#and don’t get me started on the drama of high school elections oh my god this season is going to destroy me in the best way

[spinaholi]

brennan said “oh you thought the lows of sophomore year were low? how bout instead of battling eldritch horrors they’re fighting the financial and systemic horrors of the american schooling system,” and then he punched me in the face

[therealvinelle]

I've always wondered this, but what do you think the Cullen's political viewpoints would be, given their individual backgrounds? if vampires don't change after they turn, then surely they would all be extremely racist (especially Jasper). would this not come up at some point? they aren't like the Volturi because the Volturi are too old to care, but the Cullens are young enough that they have been brought up with opinions on stuff like sexism, racism, homophobia and the like.

Oh fuck.

You get an early answer because otherwise I'll just chicken out and delete this one, pretend I never saw it.

UMMM.

Since I'm guessing you meant American political viewpoints, we need a disclaimer. I am not American, and not too knowledgeable about your politics. Not just in the sense that I don't follow the day-to-day drama, but as I am not an American citizen there are several things I don't know, can't know because I've never lived in your country and therefore can't know what the effects of living in a country ruled by American policies is like. What I do know is based off of the news in the foreign section, social media (by which I mean tumblr posts), and Trevor Noah's Daily Show.

I am an outsider looking in.

Which is really rather appropriate, since the Cullens are too.

The Cullens go to high school and college, Carlisle works, they pay taxes, they own real estate, and submerge themselves in American culture. Esme, Edward, Rosalie, Emmett, and Bella are young enough that this is in many ways their world, and apart from timeouts they've more or less spent their entire lives, human and vampire, integrated into American society.

Not fully integrated, mind you, they do what they need to to fit in and get to school or, in Carlisle’s case, to work. They go no further. No extra-curriculars for the kids, no book clubs for Esme, no game nights for Carlisle. They walk parallel to humans, not among us.

In addition to this they're obscenely rich, which puts them another thousand miles from the experiences of your average American. They won't deal with the health system, which means healthcare is a non-issue, they're not going to need welfare or other social programs, unemployment is another non-issue. Name your issue, and the Cullens don't have personal stake in it. Even the climate crisis won't be a problem for them the way it will for us.

What I'm trying to say is, American political issues are a concept to them, not a lived reality. Just like they are for me. So hey, you made a great choice of blog to ask.

I'll also add here that you say the Volturi are too old to care, and I agree- from an ancient's point of view, racism is a matter of "which ethnicity are we hating today?", and it all looks rather arbitrary after a while. Same with every other issue - after a while it all just blends together into "what are the humans fighting over today? Which Christian denomination is the correct one? Huh. Good for them, I guess."

I can't put it any better than this post did, really. The Volturi are real people, humans are nerds and tumblr having Loki discourse. Aro thinks it's delightful and knows entirely too much about Watergate (and let's be real, Loki discourse as well), but the point I wanted to get at is that politics really don't matter to vampires.

And I don't think they matter to the Cullens either.

So, moving on to the next point while regretting I didn't put headlines in this post, I'll just state that I don't think vampires' minds are frozen. Their brains are unable to develop further, and they can never forget anything, but... well, this isn't the post for that, but in order for this to be true of vampires they would barely be sentient. They would not be able to process new impressions, to learn new things, nor to have an independent thought process. Yes, we see vampires in-universe (namely, Edward, who romanticizes himself and vampires) believe they're frozen and can never change, but there is no indication that this is a widespread belief, or even true. Quite the contrary - Carlisle went from a preacher's son who wanted to burn all the demons to living in Demon Capital for decades and then becoming a doctor and making a whole family of demons. Clearly, the guy has had a change in attitude over the years. Jasper, in his years as a newborn army general, slowly grew disenchanted with his life and developed depression. James initially meant to kill Victoria and hunted her across the earth, then became fascinated and changed his mind about it.

Had these people been incapable of change, Carlisle would still be hating demons, Jasper would be in Maria's army, and James would still be hunting Victoria.

It goes to follow, then, that they are able to adapt to new things.

The question is, would they?

Here I finally answer your question.

So, we have these people who don't really have any kind of stake in politics, who keep up to date all the same (or are forcibly kept up to date because high school) and are generally opinionated people.

Where do they then fall, politically?

(And this is where you might want to stop reading, anon, because I'm about to eviscerate these people.)

Alice votes for whoever's gonna win. She also makes a fortune off of betting each election. Trump's 1 to 10 victory in 2016 was a great day to be Alice. MAGA!

The actual policies involved are completely irrelevant, she does this because it's fun. Election means she gets to throw parties. Color coded parties for the Republican and Democratic primaries, and US-themed parties for Election Night! (Foreigner moment right here: I at first wrote "Election wake" before realizing that's not what y'all murricans call it.)

Alice loves politics. Doesn't know the issues, but she sure loves politics.

Bella votes Democrat. She actually knows about the issues, and cares about them. This girl is a Democrat through and through.

Carlisle doesn't vote. I can't imagine it feels right. Outside of faked papers he's not a US citizen, this is meddling in human affairs that he knows don't concern him.

More, this guy has never lived in a democracy.

In life, Carlisle lived under an absolute monarchy that, upon civil war, became an absolute theocracy. From there he learned that vampires live under a total dictatorship.

For the first 150 years of his life, democracy was that funky thing the Athenians did in history books thousands of years ago, no more relevant to him than the Ancient Egyptian monarchy is to me. Then the Americans, and later other European countries started doing this.

Good for them.

There's this mistake often made by those who view history from a... for lack of a better term, a solipsistic standpoint. A belief that the present day is the culmination of all of history. “My society is the best society, the most reasonable society; all the others had it backwards. Thank god we’re living in this enlightened age!”

The faith in our current system of government is one such belief. We (pardon me if this doesn’t apply to everybody reading this post) have grown up in democracies, being told this is the ultimate form of rule, and perhaps that is true - but remember the kings who have told their subjects they had were divine and the best possible ruler based on that. Remember also that most modern democracies haven’t actually been democracies for very long at all, America is the longest standing at some 230 years (not long at all in the grand scope of things) and they have a fracturing two-party system to show for it.

Every society, ever, has been told they’re the greatest, and their system of government the most just. Democracy is only the latest hit.

This is relevant to Carlisle because he’s immortal and decidedly not modern. Democracy has not been installed in him the way it was the rest of the Cullens, Jasper included. To him- well, it’s just not his world. He has no stakes in our human politics, and as he is older than every current democracy and has seen quite a few of them fall, he’s not going to internalize the democratic form of rule the way a modern human has.

I think the concept of voting is foreign to him.

It requires a level of participation in human society that he’s simply not at. He does the bare minimum to appear human so he do the work he loves, but nothing more, and I find that telling.

As it is I think he'd be iffy about his family doing it. He won’t stop them, but in voting they’re... well it’s kind of cheating. They’re not really citizens, none of this will affect them, and by voting they’re drowning out the votes of real human voters. He does not approve.

Edward votes Democrat. He's... well he’s the kind of guy who will oil a girl’s bedroom window so he can more easily watch her sleep without being discovered, justifying it to himself as being okay because if she were to tell him to get lost he’d stop immediately. Same guy is so sure that he’d leave and never return again if she wanted him to, except this is the man who returned to Forks to hang around his singer, knowing there was a significant chance he might kill her. To say nothing of his Madonna/Whore complex, or of the fact that he tried to pimp out his wife twice, and was willing to forcibly abort her child.

This guy is very much in love with chivalry, with being an enlightened and feminist man who supports and respects women, while not understanding the entire point of feminism, which is female liberation.

He votes Democrat because he’s such an enlightened feminist who cares about women’s rights.

Emmett doesn’t care to vote, but if he has to he votes Republican. The guy is from the 1930′s, and has major would-be-the-uncle-who-cracks-racist-jokes-if-he-was-older vibes.

Esme doesn’t vote, that would require getting out of the house.

More, I just... can’t see it. I can’t see her being one to read up on politics and The Issues, period, but if she has to then I doubt she’d be able to decide.

Jasper doesn’t vote. Alice can have her fun, he does not care.

There’s also the whole can of worms regarding the last time he went to bat for American politics.

I imagine he stays out of this.

Renesmée doesn't vote. She has no stock in the human affairs. Who would she vote for, on what grounds? When Bella tries to pull her to the urns, she points out that she's three years old.

Rosalie, guys, I’m sorry, but that girl is definitely gonna vote Republican. Perhaps not right now as it’s become the Trump party of insanity, but the Mitt Romney type of Republicans? Oh yes.

And for the record, yes I imagine she does vote. To step back from politics would be another way she was relinquishing her humanity, and that’s not allowed to happen. So, yes, she goes to the urns, less for the sake of the politics involved and more because like this, she’s still a part of society in some way.

Now, onto why I think she’s Republican, I think it’s both fiscal and social.

This girl was the daughter of a banker who somehow profited off of the Depression, and who then became part of a family with no material needs that would soon become billionaires thanks to Alice. Poverty to Rosalie is a non-issue, as it is I imagine she views it as a much lesser issue than what she’s had to deal with. The humans can pull themselves up by their bootstraps, Rosalie’s infertility is forever.

Rosalie’s empathy is strongest when she’s able to project onto others, and she won’t be able to project onto the less fortunate at all.

Then there’s the fact that the Republican party is all about traditional family values, and pro-life.

Rosalie, a woman from the 1930′s who idolizes her human life and who‘d love nothing more than to get to live out this fantasy, is down for that. And as of Breaking Dawn she’s vocally pro-life, so there’s that.

This all being said I don’t think Rosalie cares to sit down and fully understand these politics she’s voting for, the possible impact they’ll have- that’s not important. What’s important is what voting does for her.

TL;DR: I bet anon regrets asking.

[storiesofsvu]

Bruised Peach Ch 2

Jackie Sharp x fem!reader warnings: language, minor chaos, mentions of alcohol, teeny mentions of shit that went down in CA

With the way everything had been shifting around with your schedule, you ended up with an extra couple of days off from Shaw’s. Since Becca was still in school full time, she’d cashed in some vacation days from the pub to have some personal time off, making sure she was focussed where she needed to be in the meantime. You were both thankful when they lined up and you were able to spend that time together, most of it included lounging on your couch while you binge watched a new series, but you were also eager to keep Becca in high spirits. You met with Rob for brunch in the morning, and hit up a spin class in the afternoon before swinging through the grocery store to pick up supplies for dinner and a couple of different alcohol choices.

Returning to your apartment you split a couple of snacks and switched off showering while you tossed in a load of laundry to get ready for the week ahead. You threw together an easy stir fry for dinner to at least get something healthy into your systems as you chatted through your week prior. Becca needed a little bit of help on a couple of her assignments, so you read through them, offering your advice, and proofread the essay she had due Tuesday.

As always, your second screen was quietly playing the news in the background, there wasn’t too much political coverage right now as things were settling down with Heather out of the race. While you were halfway through proofreading Becca’s paper, something did catch her eye on the t.v. At first you were worried it was more bullshit related to Heather and thus, the Dunbar family, but instead, it was Jackie that held Becca’s attention.

“She’s dropping out!? Fuck! She had my vote!”

“Becks were you even actually following this election? Or was it just for the drama?”

“That’s a real nice way of avoiding my statement….” She eyed you suspiciously, “you really are turning into a politician.” She crossed the room back to the kitchen island, opening the bottle of rose you’d picked up earlier. You nodded when she made a gesturing sound toward you and she poured out two glasses, passing one to you as she dropped back onto the couch. “Am I supposed to vote for fucking Underwood now? He gives me the creeps.”

“He is not my favourite person to work with, I’ll tell ya that much.” You muttered, “at least Claire keeps him on a short leash.”

“Good.” Becca huffed, sipping at her drink, “I’d rather be stuck with him for the next four years than a republican president, so I guess I don’t really have a choice.”

“Sometimes it’s about the lesser of two evils…” you shrugged and she chuckled, “and way to avoid my question..”

“A bit of both.” She admitted, “I guess I just got caught up in the actual politics along the way. The drama was just an added bonus.”

“There was more drama than actual politics.” You pointed out and that brought a bigger laugh from Becca.

“Oh I am well aware.” She rolled her eyes, “did I tell you that E! Network got in contact with the family’s lawyer a couple weeks after Mom got sacked?”

“No! Why?”

“They wanted to pitch a reality show of our family, to start airing in the new year.”

“Please tell me you said no to that.”

“Oh a hundred percent! They wanted us all in one house, like fuck I’d go back to that shit. Besides…wouldn’t have been half as entertaining without Jordan…”

“Becks…” your hand reached out and gave hers a small squeeze

“God he would’ve absolutely loved that shit too.” She laughed heartily, turning to you with a smile on her face, “can you imagine it though? They wouldn’t even have to feed us fake scripts or shit, just like, watch the absolute bullshit just going up in flames.”

“I’m not gonna lie, it would probably have pretty high ratings.”

“You think?”

“I know.” You laughed, “since Heather dropped out? The numbers of viewers of debates has significantly dropped.”

“God there’s probably YouTube compilation videos of her life just imploding on itself…”

“Okay…please promise me that you’ll never google yourself or look that kind shit up.”

“I won’t.” She waved her hands in surrender, “I got my fair share of that shit already. I don’t need a refresher.”

“Good.” You smiled, sliding the paper over to her, “this is really good. There’s a couple spelling and grammar things I edited for you but aside from that I see a high grade coming your way.”

“You are…the absolute best. Thank you.” She scooped up the paper, sliding it back into her school folder and moving to put it back into her bag.

“Proofreading shit is like, half of my job at this point.” You shrugged.

“Yeah…about that…do you still…have a job? Or are you gonna be back at the bar full time now?”

“What’d’you mean?”

“Well with Jackie dropping out, doesn’t that mean her campaign team is no longer needed? Or do they like, redistribute everyone into other places?”

“It’ll all work out and fall into place, trust me. I know I’ve got job security this time, trust me.”

“Hmm…” a wicked grin took over Becca’s face and you braced yourself for what was about to come out of her mouth, “is that just cause you happen to be fucking your boss?”

“Becca!” You swatted at her as she crossed back to the couch.

“I mean! It’s true!”

“Technically, she’s not my boss.”

“You better start sucking up to Underwood then.” She teased and you rolled your eyes.

Thankfully, the washer beeped and saved you from any more humiliation. Tossing the t.v remote to Becca you moved through the condo to the laundry room, beginning to sort out what could go in the dryer and what needed to be hung up to dry. You heard a little commotion coming from the main part of the house, and wondered if Becca had decided to order dessert. Your anxiety shot to Heather, and wondered if she’d decided to show up out of the blue, but considering there was no amount of yelling, you were pretty sure it wasn’t her. You finished up the laundry, started the dryer and padded back out to the entryway, a smile broke out on your cheeks when you saw who your visitor was.

“Jackie!”

“Hey peach.” She greeted softly, accepting the gentle kiss you greeted her with.

“What’re you doing here?”

“I just figured I’d stop by for a bit before leaving for Iowa in the morning. But I see I really should’ve texted first, I don’t want to intrude on girl’s night.”

“Oh don’t worry about that.” You insisted.

“It’s totally fine.” Becca assured over the rim of her drink, “did you want a glass?”

“I still should have texted.” Jackie murmured to you and you shook your head.

“I told you you’re more than welcome here whenever you want. Becca said she doesn’t care, you can come in.”

“Well then I will happily accept that glass of wine.” With a smile she glanced back over to Becca who eagerly jumped into the kitchen to pull down another glass.

“Can I ask something?” The younger girl questioned as she slid the wine over to Jackie, who nodded, “if you just dropped out…why are you going to Iowa?”

Jackie and you exchanged a knowing look, and you left it up to her on whether or not to say anything on the matter. With a small grin she turned back to Becca.

“I’ve endorsed Underwood in his campaign. Meaning that hopefully, most of my votes will transfer over to him come November.”

“Okay but why just drop out? You were doing pretty well from what I could tell.”

“Because I was never going to win.” Jackie replied bluntly, “even with the support I had, I would have had to side with someone I hated or would butt heads with constantly, and I didn’t want to put someone on my ticket that I didn’t support.”

“Alright, I guess I get that.” Becca sighed, “sucks though, you had my vote.”

“Well…” she smirked, “I can still have your vote….it’ll just be for second in command, not first.”

“Wait what?!” Becca suddenly jumped up, glee on her face, “are you sure?!”

“Yes.” She laughed, “I got the deal in writing, there’s no way Francis can double cross. Not to mention if he did, I’d be able to publicly say something about it and he’d lose all my votes.”

“That’s amazing!” She suddenly turned to you, “you’re gonna be like, the first fucking gay lady!” That brought a laugh all around and you swatted at her arm.

“Claire’s still the First Lady!”

“To be fair, you will be the first gay one...kind of…” Jackie commented with a smile that you returned.

“I think it’s far cooler and progressive that you’re going to be the first not only female V.P, but also the first openly gay one.”

“How ground breaking the two of you are.” Becca teased and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes again.

“We were about to start a movie, or a t.v binge if you wanted to join?” You asked Jackie, gesturing towards the living room.

“A quick episode or two, but that’s it.” She assured you, “I’ve got an early morning, I can’t stay too long.”

“Ya know..” Becca started, “if you two wanted to disappear into the bedroom I could just like, turn the volume way up.”

“REBECCA!” You hucked a pen at her as she cackled, scurrying away to the living room. You turned to Jackie, giving her the best sympathetic look you could, apologizing for your friend and she simply chuckled, pressing a kiss to your cheek as she followed you to the couch.

You relaxed with each other for a couple of episodes, and true to her word, Jackie pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head after the second episode, nudging at you so she could get up.

“Oh c’mon..” you attempted to protest, pouting up at her as she stood from the couch, “just one more episode?”

“Peach…” she smiled, caressing your cheek, “the flight leaves at eight, it’s an early start.”

“Fine.” You grumbled and she affectionately pinched at your chin.

“You’ll be watching tomorrow? Another girl’s night?” She gestured towards Becca who let out a near snort.

“I’m watching with Claire.” You replied.

“No offence, but I’m done with the whole politics thing.” Becca replied, “I was really only watching to see my Mother’s life get blown up on national television.”

“Becca…” Jackie started softly, “I know that she put you through hell, and clearly wasn’t a fit parent, and pulled a lot of crap over the years, but…wouldn’t it be worthwhile to at least cut her some slack considering recent events?”

“Believe me…I tried.” She sunk back into the couch, taking a hefty swig of her wine, “I showed up at the house last week. Thought I could help her, or the housekeepers, whoever! To go through Jordan’s shit, figure out what was worth keeping. Maybe make sure she was eating and not devouring bottle after bottle of vodka.”

“What happened?” You asked quietly.

“I walked into the kitchen to find a half naked twenty two year old raiding the liquor cabinet.”

“Oh god.” Jackie dropped her face into her hand.

“Who, naturally, proceeded to freak out thinking I was another one of Mom’s affairs, accusing me of being a dirty slut.”

“Please tell me your Mom cleared the air?” You winced as you asked and Becca laughed darkly.

“She didn’t even own up to actually having kids until I called her ‘Mom’. Safe to say I high tailed it out of there and want absolutely nothing to do with her. She sent a card that said she was going to change and blah, blah blah, it would take time for her to be able to do so, meanwhile she’s not even fucking trying. It’s always the fucking same with her. I’m honestly surprised she hasn’t showed up at Dad’s door with her tail between her legs. Then again…maybe she does actually know just how done he is with her? And that in the long run she really did hurt him the most. She’s so fucking manipulative….if she ever actually starts seeing a therapist they are in for it.”

“Why didn’t you ever mention this?” You asked gently.

“Because she put you through more than enough bullshit. I didn’t need to drag you into my mess while you’re out there trying to win an election.”

“Becks…future reference. I don’t care what it is, I am always here for you to talk to or vent about crap.”

“I know.” She assured you with a squeeze to your hand.

“I’m so sorry for all of this Becca…” Jackie frowned from her place on the arm of the couch, “I wish there was more I could do.”

“Well….” Becca shrugged, “you are my godmother…and I’m kinda out of a Mom for the unforeseeable future?”

“I will be at every dinner and family holiday that you want me to be.”

“It’ll be nice for Dad and me to actually have some company. It’s weird suddenly being a family of two.” She sighed, and then quickly looked up at the two of you, “not that like, I’m super bummed about it or anything! I’d done my best to separate myself from the Dunbar clan years ago! I only went to the shit I was forced to go to. I just…I know it sucks a lot for Dad….”

“We’ll be there.” You assured her, squeezing at her hand.

“As long as you’re not too busy off playing Vice President.” Becca replied with a sly grin and you scoffed as Jackie laughed. “But really…I’m super happy for you Jackie. You deserve this. I mean…you deserve to actually be President, but if this is what you’ve got to settle for, I guess it’s the best.”

“Give it four years.” Jackie replied with a small smile, her phone suddenly beeped, interrupting the evening. She glanced down at it, sliding the notification open, “ugh,” she rolled her eyes, “it’s Frank. Reminders about tomorrow, I should really get going.”

“Okay.” You and Becca murmured nearly in unison, Becca’s attention redirected to the t.v to give the two of you a moment of privacy to say goodnight.

“I’ll see you soon Peach.”

“Good luck.” You replied with a grin as her hand came to caress your cheek, “not that you need it.”

“Thank you.” She smiled, then ducked over to press a gentle kiss to your lips, “I’ll see you Wednesday?”

“Bright eyed and bushy tailed.” You smiled back, humming at the kiss she left on your forehead before bidding Becca goodnight and leaving the apartment.

__________ @jamiethetrans @natasha-danvers @imlike-so-gaydude @svulife-rl@bumblebear30 @molllss @nocreditinthestraightworld @yourtaletotell @cerberus-spectre @emskisworld @ex-uallyactive @addictedtodinosaurs @Rosiewritesagain @imaginaryoperagloves @disn3y7 @samwithnoplan @multifandomlesbianic @swimmingstudentchaos891 @annegilletteslostwh0r3 @drduckthief @stone-hearted-seymour @yesterdaysgone @whimsicallymad @alexusonfire @mmmmokdok @lazarettta @sia2raw @ladysc @1-lindsay83 @mmemalwa @ms-calhoun @holycrapraewth @poisonedcrowns @wannabe-fic-reader @when-wolves-howl @wannabe-fic-reader @newyorker14 @lawandorderuswnt

[spaceorphan18]

99 Perspectives on a Single Love Story #80

A/N: The Story of Kurt and Blaine told through the eyes of everyone else but them. Each chapter is a different perspective in the ongoing tale of their love story.

I started something like this a while back - and now I’m taking the idea and really running with it. Each chapter is a ficlet of a different character at a different point in Kurt and Blaine’s life - documenting their love story. This starts in Audition, and each chapter will be paired with a different episode until reaching Dreams Come True.

[Ao3]

***

The Mime (New New York) 

Of all the classes he’s taken at NYADA - the mime class might be the dumbest.  It’s not the teacher’s fault, Professor Marceau is great, and he guesses that he’s learning something by being here.  Why are they learning how to be a mime? Why isn’t this an elective instead of being something he’s paying to take? Is this really going to serve a greater purpose? He had grand ideas when he had first applied - becoming a triple threat, being a star, or maybe just being able to make enough money at what he loved to live on.  But being a mime has never been on the agenda.

NYADA, man.  This place is just like the fine arts high school he came from.  Just as gossipy, just as drama-filled, just as frustrating - only the students going to NYADA have a more grandiose idea of themselves.  It’s like all the worst stereotypes of the fine arts blended into one building.  Sometimes he wishes he had just accepted that scholarship to NYU.  At least the drama wouldn’t be so concentrated.  

He has a headache, and usually mime class keeps things quiet, but Professor Marceau is out for the day, and the T.A., who clearly doesn’t give a shit, is just having them practice on their own.  Which means that no one is practicing the most sacred part of being a mime -- shutting up.

The worst part is that Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson are in front of him.  These two.  God.  Where to even start.  He remembers Kurt Hummel from last year - that Winter Showcase and the Midnight Madness and there had been a lot of buzz around him when he started, but he’s mostly faded into the obscurity of the rest of the class.  But then his boyfriend? Husband? Whatever - showed up, and the two of them, who somehow managed to be in six of his eight classes for the semester, and omg - do they not ever stop.  Ever.  He’s not sure if they’re aware of their own little mini-drama that’s constantly running, but it’s enough to drive a person mad.  

“You used up all my laundry detergent.”  Blaine pushes into Kurt’s space.  The dude doesn’t seem to understand that this isn’t a group project.  

“I thought it was our laundry detergent.” And… as expected Kurt’s face goes sour.  He can’t help but wonder if he’s always this sour - or just during this class. 

“Well - you were the one who wanted to label everything mine and yours, and I am the one who bought it last.”

“You were using my toothbrush, Blaine.  We have to have boundaries somewhere.”

“And all I’m saying, Kurt, is that you need to pick up laundry detergent on the way home since you used the last of mine. Or, if you’re still so adamant about having different things - I’ll get more laundry detergent, and you’re on your own.”

Maybe if he closes his eyes, he can try to concentrate on the box he’s trying to make, and not the shrillness of their voices.   Unfortunately, the fake box does not have walls to keep the idiotic sounds of their argument out.  

“Fine, I’ll get some on my way home.” Kurt’s voice still comes through clearly.  “Rachel wanted me to pick up some kind of vegetable for tonight.  She’s making vegan burgers or something.  I don’t know.”

“Oh, well, at least we won’t have to cook.  I think she also mentioned taking us all to a show.”

Oh that’s right - they’re both friends with that Rachel Berry chick.  At least she’s not here.  Or maybe if she was they’d shut up…

Kurt, of course, keeps going.  “Maybe she can take all of them, and we can stay home.”

“You don’t really want to go to a show?”

“You know - we spend nearly every freakin’ night with them.  I’d like to have a chance to fuck you without four other people in the place.”

“Oh…”

“Oh my god, stop!” His voice echoes through the room.  He didn’t mean to be so loud.  Everyone’s eyes are staring at him.  Waiting to see if he’ll burst out and beat the living hell out of the two of them.  Of course, this school just preys on meltdowns.  He won’t give in.  He won’t let them win.  

Kurt and Blaine give him an odd look and shuffle further away.  Whatever - he’s over it.  

Later… his girlfriend is waiting for him after his last class.  She doesn’t go there, and really shouldn’t be in the building, but god is he happy to see her.  He just needs to get out.  

“Rough day?” she asks, looping her arm through his.

“More like rough life.”

“Hey, I mean, you’re the one who turned down coming with me to NYU.”

“One of my life’s regrets - clearly.”  

As they’re about to walk out of the building, he spots Kurt and Blaine.  On a bench.  Making out.  It’s gratuitous and gross, and while not the most indecent thing he’s seen even this week, it’s annoying as hell.  Don’t they have a home for that? Oh yeah - they share it with, like, ten other people.  

He hates himself for knowing that.  

“They are the worst,” he mutters.  

“What -- they’re getting to you again?” She throws her head back and laughs.  

“One minute they’re nearly breaking up - the next they’re all over each other.  Why? Why do I have to be a part of this story? Why do I need to witness? Why can’t I be here to learn things that are not related to classmate’s personal lives? Why is this my life?”

She gives an amused shrug.  “I don’t know - the one with way too much hair gel is kinda cute.  What do you say - wanna ask for a foursome? I’m sure that’ll get some of your aggression out.”

She’s cackling at the joke, but he eyes her hard.  “If you suggest that again, I will dump you, Mia.”

[noona-clock]

Him - Part 3

Genre: College!AU, Enemies to Lovers

Pairing: Jinyoung x You (Female!Reader)

Warnings: Very mild cursing

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 | Words: 2,032

About halfway through your day, you had texted Teddy about having a Self-Care Sunday, but on a Friday.

Your morning meeting with Jinyoung had left you agitated, and you’d received an essay back in one of your classes with a less than stellar grade -- totally not Jinyoung’s fault, but you were allowing yourself to be even more annoyed with him because of it, anyway. You had let your agitation get the best of you at lunchtime, and you’d spilled your soda all over your sweatshirt and jeans. The wet, sticky mess only worsened your mood; therefore, a night of sheet masks and manicures and probably a Jane Austen mini-series was definitely in order.

Teddy, unsurprisingly, had replied immediately with: “My place! 5pm!” and not for the first (nor the last) time, you had thought to yourself how glad you were to have a friend like him.

Once your last class of the day let out just after 4, you headed back to your apartment to pack up your pajamas, some face masks, nail polish, your Pride & Prejudice DVD, and some bags of popcorn. You sent a quick message to Teddy that you were on your way and more than ready for a night of pampering.

When you arrived at Teddy’s place at basically five on the dot, you were greeted by not only your best friend’s smiling face but also the smell of freshly delivered pizza.

Did you have the best best friend or what? You hadn’t even brought up ordering pizza, but he had gone and done it, anyway. He had somehow known you needed the most delicious junk food for dinner to make up for the obnoxious day you’d had.

“I guess seeing Jinyoung just messed up your whole day, huh?” Teddy quipped as you closed his front door behind you.

A look of disgust morphed your features, and you made your way to his kitchen counter to set down everything you’d brought. “I would rather not bring him up, if it’s all the same to you.”

“Okay,” your best friend chuckled. “Whatever you say. Ooh, Pride & Prejudice! And my favorite honey sheet mask?! You did have a bad day.”

“It was so mentally exhausting that you’re probably going to have to stop me from eating literally half of that pizza.”

Teddy quirked his brow at you. “Now, what kind of a friend would I be if I did that?”

A grin curved your lips, and you couldn’t stop yourself from shuffling over to him and wrapping your arms around his middle, pulling him into a tight, comforting hug.

“Thank you,” you murmured, pressing your cheek against his shoulder. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Well, I assume you’d be eating pizza and doing sheet masks and watching romantic movies alone. Which is totally fine, but it’s so much better with me,” Teddy replied, rubbing your back reassuringly. “Now, come on. This pizza’s gonna get cold, and I don’t know how much longer I can wait to see Mr. Darcy.”

“Oh, my god,” Teddy gasped when you hurried back onto the couch after taking the empty pizza box over to the kitchen.

“I’m not taking your honey mask, I promise,” you assured him as you handed him the packet, keeping the cactus flower one for yourself.

“No, not that! But thank you.” He took the mask from you, opening it carefully and reaching inside to pull out the slimy, sweet-smelling piece of cotton. “I just realized that Jinyoung is your Mr. Darcy!”

You almost dropped your mask into your lap.

“What?!” you cried, letting out a sputtering laugh. “Excuse me? Uh -- no. No, that is not at all true. And I told you not to bring him up!”

He had been doing so well! You had gotten through at least forty-five minutes of the movie without even one single mention of Jinyoung!

“No, but think about it,” Teddy urged before he leaned back and delicately placed the sheet mask over his face. “Lizzy and Darcy don’t start off the best of terms. She thinks he’s proud and arrogant, but he’s actually not all that bad. That’s what’s going on right now with you and Jinyoung.”

Of course, being a literature major, you absolutely loved stories. Romantic stories were your drug of choice, and you had practically grown up reading and watching anything having to do with Jane Austen.

Truly, you would be the first to admit if you were living a Pride & Prejudice plot.

“It really isn’t,” you argued, leaning back to put on your own sheet mask.

“Is, too,” Teddy retorted. “Just like Charlotte said about Darcy, Jinyoung isn’t really like that once you get to know him! I think you’re letting the situation get to you, and -- okay, and coming from me, this means something -- you’re being a little dramatic.”

Even though it did hurt to hear Teddy the drama major tell you that you were being dramatic... you knew he was right.

Probably right.

Your parents’ financial strain was definitely trickling down to you, and the pressure to find a job as quickly as possible created more stress on top of the stress you already had from regular college student life.

So, yes. It was entirely possible that this added stress was causing you to see Jinyoung through a more exaggerated, theatrical lens.

But Jinyoung really had said all those rude things to you yesterday! How could you be dramatic about it when he had literally told you to not even apply for the TA position because there was no chance you would get it?

“I don’t know, Teddy,” you murmured. Even though you weren’t entirely convinced you were just being dramatic, you decided to let Teddy think he was right. For now. You let out a relenting sigh and then added, “Okay, well, then tell me more about him in high school.”

“Aha!” Teddy cried triumphantly. “I knew you were interested!”

“No, I -- I’m not interested! Just tell me!” You reached over to gently hit his arm, not wanting to dislodge either of your face masks.

“I’ve got a better idea -- I’ll show you.” Teddy patted his hands around the couch cushion, obviously trying to look for his phone without disturbing his mask. When he found it, he quickly brought it up to his face and began tapping away.

You scooted closer to him, seeing he was bringing up his Facebook app. You watched silently, the dialogue in Pride & Prejudice the only noise in the room as Teddy navigated to Jinyoung’s profile and then into his photo album.

After scrolling quite a bit (high school was a few years in the past at this point, after all), Teddy clicked on Jinyoung’s graduation picture.

“Valedictorian,” you scoffed. “Of course.”

“...Weren’t you whatever comes right after Valedictorian? Second place?”

“Salutatorian,” you grumbled with a roll of your eyes. “Don’t ever tell him that. It’s just another thing he could hold over me.”

Teddy chuckled with bemusement before swiping to the next pictures. When he got to one of Jinyoung and some other guys wearing togas, he explained that was Senior Week. He pointed out his friends, telling you a little bit about them (and how Teddy had had a crush on Jackson for basically the whole four years).

As he swiped through the other pictures from Senior Week, you couldn’t help but notice that Jinyoung looked so... happy. He was smiling and posing cheesily for the camera, and you would never tell Teddy this but... it made you want to be friends with him. You weren’t sure why, but something about him in these pictures was just so enticing. Something besides his good looks.

Teddy also showed you his student council pictures (he had been elected Secretary his Junior and Senior years, which had not surprised you in the least), prom and homecoming pictures (he looked far too dashing in a suit, which also had not surprised you in the least), and pictures of the film club he had started (apparently, the first movie they’d watched had been Rear Window, one of your all-time favorites).

“See?” Teddy said as he put down his phone and slid the sheet mask off his face. “He’s a normal guy.”

“Then why was he such an asshole to me?!” you cried, following suit and taking your own mask off.

“I... honestly don’t know,” Teddy sighed. “I guess he just really wants that TA position. Or maybe he thought no one else was going to apply, and he just wanted to scare away the competition.”

Teddy reached for your discarded sheet mask, getting up to go throw them away. And just before he arrived back at the couch, he stopped. He let out a gasp.

“...What?” you asked cautiously. When Teddy gasped like that, it usually meant you wouldn’t like what he said.

“Do you want me to call him and ask?”

“Call who? Ask what?” Surely, he didn’t mean --

“Jinyoung! Ask him why he was such an asshole to you!”

You simply stared at Teddy, blinking.

What on earth were you supposed to say to that other than, “You’re joking, right?”

“No! I’ll pretend like you’re not here!” Teddy jumped back on the couch, grabbing his phone and tapping again on the screen.

“No, Teddy, I don’t think that’s a --”

But he was already pressing his phone to his ear, and you heard the muffled ringing through the speaker.

Oh, god. He was doing it.

...It’s not like you weren’t curious, but Jinyoung was smart enough to catch on, wasn’t he? And if you ever saw him again -- which you had no intention of doing -- it would be even more awkward!

“Hello?”

Oh, god. He answered.

“Jinyoung, hey!” Teddy greeted, and you buried your freshly hydrated face in your palms. “Listen, I was just curious about something.”

“Sure, what’s up?”

“So, my friend, Y/N. She told me about how you two met yesterday, and she’s very insistent that you were super rude and are an asshole. I know we weren’t exactly friends back in high school, but I mean, we knew each other. I just don’t think that sounds like you at all, and I wanted to clear the air, I guess.”

“...Oh. Well, I, uh -- I don’t want to make excuses or anything, but... she wasn’t exactly polite to me either.”

Your head snapped up, your brow furrowing deeply because what?! He had started it!

“Ah --” Teddy stammered. “Well -- she’s just... she’s kind of stressed out about trying to find a job right now. It’s -- it’s not really my story to tell, but she’s not usually rude. She’s super caring and generous once you get to know her.”

Thank you, Teddy.

“Okay... I’m sorry, but why are you telling me this?”

...Seriously?! What a little shithead!

“I’m just confused about the whole thing because I know that neither of you is really like that. Like I said, I wanted to clear some things up.”

“Ah. I see. Well, I really just think Professor Stewart will pick me, so I don’t want her to get her hopes up.”

He just thinks he knows everything, doesn’t he?!

“Okay, great,” Teddy replied a bit hurriedly, clearly feeling how annoyed you were becoming. “I’ll, uh -- I’ll tell her. But, hey. Any chance you think you guys might want to, like... hang out? Get to know each other?”

You held your breath.

...Why were you holding your breath?

You didn’t care what he had to say to that!

Not one bit!

“...I don’t think so.”

See? You didn’t care! Not one bit!

“Cool. Okay, got it. Thanks, bye!” And Teddy hung up before slowly looking over at you with quite the guilty expression.

“It’s fine!” you assured him, though your tone was clearly one of annoyance. “It’s fine because I don’t like him either. I don’t want to hang out with him or get to know him either. I’m not bothered by the fact he’s not interested in me, I’m really not. Even as a friend.”

Because you weren’t interested in him as a friend either!

It’s fine!

Part 4

[kainumbernine009]

I literally cannot do anything else until I get this out.

I’m... really not okay.

And when I say that, I’m not mentally unstable. I say that because I’m tired of waiting on empty promises, I’m tired of never having money in our account, I’m tired of living in a fucking city where half of the white people fucking worship the ground Trump walks on, and where most of the gay community has so much messy drama that it’s worse than middle school. And I went to a rough middle school.

I never talk about my past, because I don’t like to. It sucked. HARD. Being and only child in my family was nothing less than torture, especially as a closeted queer person. We grew up in the white Christian part of Nashville that dominated Music Row in the 90′s and early 2000′s. I played basketball with Alan Jackson’s daughter, and being around famous people was just no big deal. But, my parents decided to leave Nashville after my dad lost his job at TPAC, and we moved down south an hour to the town where the KKK got started (Pulaski, TN).

I had maybe two non-white people in my private Christian school growing up. I was never afraid of Black people, but my parents showed their racist asses quick when we moved there. The KKK has never left America, guys, no matter how many articles you read or studies you do. From 2005 to 2009 I saw a white town show its very worst to the Black community. I’ll never forget the first time I saw a march for “White Christians for Purity” the summer before Obama got elected. The disgust I felt inside was palpable. I had all kinds of friends in school, and I didn’t give TWO SHITS who they were or what they looked like... but I saw children my age, being brainwashed by their parents, that “white” is “right.”

Ever since then, I have been learning and growing about the issues of race. I remember my white classmates using the N word and getting away with it. I remember hearing about the principal at the high school punishing all the Black kids but not the white kids. I remember being invited to a church south of town that was a historically Black church, and how nice the ladies were to me for coming.

But I’ll never forget the racism that the religious groups promoted there, especially First Baptist Church and the 12 Tribes. I’ll never forget how FBC told me that my friend was going to Hell because she killed herself. I’ll never forget my mom telling me not to marry a Black man because of “impure genes.” I WILL NEVER FORGET THE INJUSTICES I SAW WHITE PEOPLE DOING TO BLACK PEOPLE THERE. NEVER.

And thank God, I have shaken the burden of religious guilt, but I still fight against this mentality. I live in a place that’s usually not even 10 minutes away from Trump-humping, sister-fucking, meth-addicted Confederate cunts in any direction. And we’re even closer to the rich white people who silently supported him, upset that their taxes would go up because of Biden.

And in the past four years since Trump got elected, I’ve gotten married, graduated college with honors, started my own photography business, and was making more than my husband there for a minute. I did my own taxes, marketing, editing, and everything. And then I came out as trans.

I lost everything.

I lost my studio. I lost friends. I had rumors started about me. I had people post hate messages on my wall. I had people at my drag shows tell others not to tip me, for whatever fucking reasons. I’ve had bosses give cis people jobs over me, and I’ve had government workers give me second looks when I hand them my license.

It. Fucking. Sucks. To. Live. Here. Like. This.

Oh yeah, did I mention I’m also a witch/medium? I’ve talked to dead people before and have told their relatives things I shouldn’t have known otherwise about their grandparents. Like, this information doesn’t even exist on Google. And I’m attuned to reiki. I’m always aware of what’s happening on at least SOME metaphysical level. This is a gift that I’ve had to go through life developing and learning about myself, with no one’s help but me.

I didn’t even know until I was an adult that I have autism and ADHD.

I’ve taken bullets from people who were about to kill themselves. I’ve yelled at 5th grade music classrooms for doing racist dance moves and appropriating Native Americans (I have a degree in Music Education K-12). I’ve consoled kids in classrooms who suddenly have panic attacks. AND I’ve told horny teenagers to stay in their fucking lane and respect the girls around them. I’ve apparently been an inspiration to those around me, but inspiration NOR exposure pays the bills. I’ve already had COVID, and so has my husband, but I knew that after graduating college that I would never have a fulfilling life being a music teacher in Tennessee’s public schools.

And now that we have COVID, and an orange, small-dicked, pedophilic, rape apologizing, dirty, crusty white president who STILL REFUSES TO CONCEDE, who is DIRECTLY RESPONSIBLE FOR HAVING HIS FOLLOWERS SEND DEATH THREATS TO MY FAMILY, I really don’t know what the fuck else to do other than go burn down all the houses I know of in North Georgia that belong to these Christian sex cult pedophiles and call it a day. My girlfriend unfortunately was born into one of those families, and I know just how bad it can get. In fact, her dad’s lawyer threatened me with blackmail earlier in November, so that was fun!

And now, on December 11, 2020, I’m still sitting here in the same fucking house, doing the same fucking things I’ve been doing all year - trying to get a job and failing horribly. I’M SICK AND TIRED OF THIS COVID BULLSHIT AND OUR INCOMPOTENT CUNT OF A PRESIDENT! And there’s only ever one other person I’ve ever called a cunt... my own mother.

I’ve lived in many places. I’ve met many different people. I’ve made mistakes, and have grown, but there’s one thing for damn sure that I always make sure to do, every single fucking day.

I ALWAYS try to do better.

In addition to this, I treat everyone with the same amount of respect, unless they have done something directly to me to negate that. If I know that someone believes in something that directly harms me or my family, I don’t even associate with them. I don’t spend my energy on things that don’t need it. And everyone else should, too.

The problem with some of y’all is that you care about the wrong things. Like will Becky text me back or did I get front row seats to that concert, or did I slave my life away to capitalism just so that I can own a Mercedes and have my friends jealous. I’ve had way too many dear death experiences to know that EVERY single fucking day is a gift. EVERY day.

I don’t want to be remembered first for the art I create. I want to be remembered for my character. I want to be remembered as the courageous person who never backed down in the face of adversity. But when you live in a place that already hates you and that is against you, that’s really fucking hard. Trust me. My marriage went from a cis straight passing couple to a white gay passing couple. I’ve seen how people’s attitudes changed around me as I transitioned. I know what it feels like to slowly lose a piece of your privilege you were born with.

So yeah, I kinda get a little fucking upset when I see people saying All Lives Matter, or when I see doctors refusing to treat trans patients in pandemics, or when I see cops YET AGAIN harassing Black people only a few blocks away from my house for no other reason than racism. And at this point, anyone who thinks they know me but only knows what people think they know about me can suck my entire ass and eat ten dicks. I don’t give a FUCK about who you are or what you’ve done. If you treat me or other people with no respect for no reason other than to be an asshole, you’re just plain shit. If you SERIOUSLY believe every little rumor and lie that someone tells about me before meeting me, fuck you AND the horse you rode in on.

What I can’t stand is people doing or saying things just to get a rise out of me or others. I thought we left petty shit in high school. Some of the people that “know” me really need to fucking grow up and grow a pair and either say what they want to my face, or stay mad. I’m tired of playing fucking petty games with y’all. We have a whole ass pandemic to solve.

So here’s the ultimatum... if you agree that Black Lives Matter and that queer people deserve basic human rights, EVEN THE ONES YOU HATE, then that’s the bare minimum to even be a decent person. If you can’t even do those things, then I don’t fucking know what else to say to you.

So NBC, maybe not have John Mulaney joke about my license debacle with my gold van on SNL, and Seth Meyers... maybe HIRE ME INSTEAD of Mulaney because clearly y’all don’t know about the south as much as I do? Oh, and that gazeebo joke with Lee University... I caught that. I may have autism, but I’m not a fucking idiot. I mean. I’m funny when I’m given the chance. And yeah, I’m on a watchlist, but who the fuck isn’t these days? At least all my secrets are out for the world to see, and I have a bangin’ tattoo.

I’m tired of everyone being like “omg, I’ve seen what he can do, it’s fantastic!” or “omg you’re so funny haha” and bragging on me and then NOT FUCKING HIRING ME. I’m TIRED of waiting on something that’s clearly at this point never coming.

I don’t even have testicles, and my balls are bigger than most of the cis men I have EVER met.

So, if you want to help me, or hire me, or get me out to an audition... I’ll be there. But until then, I’m so fucking MAD at some of these producers. Yeah, my mom is a cunt, but she worked in various forms of digital production from the 1980′s until she retired this year. She taught me SO MUCH about directing, writing, shooting, and more. I know how these things are supposed to run behind the scenes. I know what the fuck I’m doing, and I don’t take constructive criticism like a bitch. I actually WANT to be criticized, so I can do even better.

So PLEASE, for the love of Christ... y’all need to get your priorities together AND PLEASE STOP LEAVING ME OUT OF THE LOOP WITH THIS BULLSHIT. Grow a fucking pair and either call me, email me, or leave me alone. It’s really not that fucking hard. Looking at you, Lorne Michaels.

Oh and someone tell my husband what the fuck’s been going on because I’m tired of him gaslighting me about it.

[findingyouagain]

𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙴 𝚆𝙴 𝙶𝙾 ( 𝙰𝙶𝙰𝙸𝙽 ).

Do not grieve. Anything you lose comes again in another form. —Rumi

"I'm late. I'm late!"

She rushed down the staircase, feet pounding against each step. The third step to the bottom creaked beneath her weight as it did every day. Damp hair dripped onto the white railing. Reaching the first floor of the house, Kennedy made her way to the kitchen, sliding across the hardwood floor with her blue socks and pulling her hair into a messy ponytail. "Dad, I'm late!"

"I see that."

Bryan Steele sat at the kitchen table. His horn-rimmed glasses rested on his nose as his hazel eyes scanned the newspaper in his hands. Kennedy could only make out the headline: something about a missing couple. The sunlight streaming from the window above the sink reflected off his glass of orange juice, shining onto Bryan's brown hair. He was already dressed for the day—tan khakis and a navy button-up shirt. His blue scrubs for work lay on top of the few patient folders he had brought home from the hospital the night before.

"Well, why didn't you wake me up?" She had one foot pressed against the pale yellow, almost white wall, tying the laces of her Nike tennis shoes.

Bryan ran a hand through his hair, dropping the paper onto the table and grabbing a piece of bacon off his plate. "I thought you had decided to jog to school this morning and already left." He took another bite. "That's what I told Bonnie when she came to pick you up a few minutes ago."

She finished tying her other shoe and sighed. Great, she also had no ride to school. "Well, now I definitely have to run—unless I can borrow Mom's bike?"

"Tires are flat," came his gruff reply. He was biting back a grin. "You'd be even later if you tried to air them up. Besides, jogging to school won't kill you. Consider it early track practice."

Kennedy let out an incoherent grumble before slinging her bag onto her back. "Yeah, well, guess I'm going to stink of sweat all day. Great way to start off my senior year!" She opened the side door. "—and wipe that smirk off your face, Dad. It's not a handsome look on you." The door slammed shut, and the slap, slap, slap of running feet on asphalt could be heard.

Heart racing, Kennedy leaned against her gray locker and let out a ragged breath. Despite jogging every morning, running three miles to school left the teen breathless, as well as hot and sweaty. For once, Kennedy was glad to have stored a spare pair of clothes in her gym locker for after track practices.

Her eyes scanned the crowded hallways. Already, colorful posters about clubs to join and student government elections littered the walls. Eager teenagers wandered, chatting about which beach they had visited and who they had hooked up with over the summer break. Kennedy sighed, not quite understanding why she was supposed to miss this in ten months' time. Mindless babble and petty drama? She wasn't interested in dealing with it for another year, let alone after she graduated from high school.

Spotting Elena Gilbert and Bonnie Bennett by their lockers, she picked her bag off the ground and squeezed her way past lost freshmen with their eyes glued to their schedules.

"—no, that's over."

"What's over?" Kennedy asked, smiling at her two best friends.

"Ah, nothing important. Thinking about finding man, coining a new phrase. We've got a busy year ahead of us," Bonnie replied, but her gaze trailed behind Elena. The two brunettes turned to see Matt Donovan clad in his red and black letterman staring at Elena.

Kennedy watched as Elena waved at him and the blond ignored her, grabbing books out of his locker and walking off.

Elena sighed and leaned against the locker while Kennedy placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "He hates me."

Bonnie shook her head. "That's not hate. That's 'you dumped me, but I'm too cool to show it, but secretly, I'm listening to Air Supply's greatest hits.'"

Kennedy held back a giggle. "He just needs some time. I mean, it's not like you guys bumped into each other muchover the summer. He'll get over it, and you'll be best friends again. Trust me."

"Speaking of time," Bonnie began. She grabbed the red junior history book from her locker. "How'd we beat Miss Track Queen to school when you left before us?"

"Funny story, I woke up late, and my dad just assumed I had already left for school. So, I ended up having to run here just like he told you. Now I'm all gross."

Elena folded her arms across her chest, ignoring the yells behind them of friends congregating for the first time since May. "Don't you keep spare clothes in your gym locker?"

Kennedy nodded. "Yeah, I'm actually headed that way to speak to Coach Sharpe about track tryouts. As captain, I'm going to have to oversee them, and I can't have them interfering with my work schedule at the library. I figured I'd change while I was down there."

"Elena! Oh my god!"

It wasn't seconds later that Kennedy had been gently shoved to the side, almost knocking into Bonnie, as a blonde in a blue blouse and black heels enveloped Elena into a tight hug. Elena patted the girl's shoulder reassuringly.

"How are you? Oh, it's so good to see you." She released the olive-skinned girl from her embrace before turning to Bonnie and Kennedy, blue eyes laced with concern and wringing her pale hands. "How is she? Is she good?"

"Caroline, I'm right here." Elena gave a weak but believable smile, nodding her head for good measure. "And I'm fine. Thank you."

"Really?" Caroline asked, and Kennedy felt sorry for Elena. Although it was a brand new school year for everyone, no one could forget how last year had ended. In a small town, the car crash that had wrecked the Gilbert household had affected everyone, even if just in minor implications. Elena had miraculously survived the car's plunge over Wickery Bridge, but her parents had not, leaving Elena and her younger brother to be taken in by their Aunt Jenna, who was only eleven years Kennedy's senior. Now, everyone was sensitive to Elena's feelings, perhaps too sensitive, and no matter how much it seemed Elena wanted to move past the accident and start afresh, everyone else couldn't let the girl forget. Pity parties weren't Elena's thing, that much Kennedy knew.

"Yes, much better."

Caroline enveloped Elena into another hug. "Oh, you poor thing."

Kennedy threw Elena a knowing look and a small smile before tugging the blonde off of her. "Okay, okay, give the poor thing a break, Care. She's had enough touchy-feely for the morning."

Caroline nodded, clapping her hands together. "Okay, see you guys later?"

The three nodded, and Bonnie mumbled out a quick bye to their friend as the blonde strutted down the hall.

Kennedy let out a laugh, and Elena just shook her head. "No comment."

Twisting the bag on her shoulder, Kennedy pointed towards the gym and coaches' office. "Well, I better get going if I want to change out of these clothes. See you first period?"

"Remind me again how you ended up being Tanner's student aid for the junior history class?" Bonnie asked, picking up her own bag. Kennedy was already turning in the other direction.

"Because I'm the only one to ever laugh at his history jokes and make a hundred on his finale, duh!" she threw over her shoulder. Kennedy could hear Elena's giggle as she walked down the hall to change.

"How about next Tuesday afterschool? Will that work for you?"

Finally changed into some fresh clothes and sprayed down with perfume, Kennedy nodded her head at Coach Sharpe's suggestion. Her schedule wasn't hectic, just full. Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays afterschool, the brunette worked at the Mystic Falls Public Library—shelving books, tutoring younger students, and updating the online catalogue. Plus after work on Wednesdays, Kennedy attended church with her mom, helping in the kitchen and with the youth bible study class. Every other Saturday, she volunteered at the hospital and shadowed her father in the pediatrics department. Sundays, there was church again and then her family dinner in the late afternoon. Tuesdays and Fridays were her only free days, mainly because last year they had been dominated by track practices and meets.

"That works for me." She smiled at the man. He sat, arms folded over his linoleum desk, where papers and handheld timers lay scattered. A red baseball cap embroidered with the high school's initials covered his bald head. His eyes were kind but empty, vague, like they couldn't capture the emotions the rest of his face expressed. Kennedy watched as a smile tugged at his lips, and she wondered what thought had crossed his face that she had missed.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked. It was a rather blunt question, and if the man hadn't been Kennedy's track coach since the sixth grade, she probably would have never asked him.

His smile widened, and he tilted his head. "Just that we're going to have an amazing team captain this year."

Kennedy let out a small laugh before ducking her head in embarrassment. "Well, thanks, Coach." A bell rang out throughout the school, and Kennedy glanced at the clock. Five minutes before class started. "I've got to get to class, but I'll stop by later this week to confirm the tryout list, okay?"

Coach Sharpe nodded. "Yeah. See you then."

"Once our home state of Virginia joined the Confederacy in 1861, it created a tremendous amount of tension within the state—" Mr. Tanner droned on, pacing in the front of the small history classroom. His hands were kept clasped at his waist, and he stood tall, eyes roaming the room in hopes to catch students off task.

In the back of the classroom, Kennedy tapped, tapped, tapped a red pen against the wooden desk. A stack of papers sat in front of her. Tanner had handed them to her when she arrived to class with two minutes to spare before the tardy bell went off. This was the junior history class, or as it was better known as, the period Kennedy and Mr. Tanner had designated as her teaching assistant period, meaning she was in the room to grade papers and help write up lessons. Today being the first day of school, all she had to do was staple and organize the practice U.S. History exams the juniors would take tomorrow, but she didn't feel bothered to organize them just yet, instead opting to doodle on the back cover of her notebook. So far, a small clearing surrounded by tall trees had appeared, and she was debating whether to draw a crow in the corner as well when something caught her eye.

Glancing up from her drawing, Kennedy caught the new boy—didn't Mr. Tanner's role sheet say his name was Steven or something like that—staring at Elena. Matt and Bonnie must have noticed it too because Kennedy could see Matt glaring before reading a text Bonnie was sending over her shoulder. Rolling her eyes, she smiled at how oblivious Mr. Tanner was to Elena pulling out her phone, confirming Kennedy's thoughts that her two friends were texting each other during class.

Kennedy pulled out her own phone, typing out a quick message: What did you text Elena? And clicking send before returning to stapling papers.

A short buzz vibrated the desk, causing the red pen to roll onto the floor. She ignored the pen and slid the unlock button on her phone.

That the H-O-T new boy was staring at her. Didn't you see? came Bonnie's reply.

Oh, trust me, Kennedy typed out, I saw.

She turned back to the class in front of her, eyes narrowing in how the new guy—maybe it was Ian?—continued to stare at Elena as the girl kept her gaze locked to the front of the room, smiling wide. Kennedy shook her head, shuffling the papers in her hands. Was this about to be the start of young love or more drama? Whichever the case, Kennedy was just happy to see her friend truly smiling again.

"Guess who."

Kennedy laughed, rolling her eyes behind the hands clasped over them. She hummed, pretending to mull over the endless possibilities as to who had snuck up on her. After a moment or two of contemplation, she shrugged her shoulders. "No idea…is it the reincarnation of George Washington here to set the country straight again?"

The hands were removed from in front of her eyes, and she blinked, readjusting to the brightness of Mrs. Halpern's calculus classroom at 1 o'clock in the afternoon. She turned in her desk, spotting the tall blond boy with mischievous green eyes staring at her. "George Washington, really?"

"What did you want me to say, Ollie? J.F.K.? I'd be disgracing his good looks by comparing them to yours."

"Hardy-har-har." Oliver took the desk next to her, digging into his backpack and grabbing a notebook, calculator, and pencil. He opened the notebook up to the first page before turning back to face her. "Was that you I spotted all sweaty this morning next to my sister?"

"Depends," she countered. She leaned over the aisle, brown eyes raking over him with judgement. "Was that you I spotted walking the halls this morning with Vicki Donovan on your arm?"

"Maybe." He shrugged, suddenly much more interested in his blank notebook than her, but Kennedy wasn't having it. She grabbed the notebook off his desk, folding it closed again. He tried to grab it back, but she pushed it inside her backpack. "What? We're back together."

"And when did this happen?"

"I don't know. A while ago."

She frowned. "Why wasn't I informed of this, Ollie?" Arms crossed, Kennedy gave him her ultimate 'I-thought-we-were-past-the-whole-not-sharing-information-thing' glare. Five months her senior, Oliver Forbes had been Kennedy's best friend since the sixth grade; however, they had known each other since the beginning of elementary school, back where playground rules dictated who was friends with who. To the kids in their kindergarten class, a girl beating another boy in a race across the field was unheard of, well, until Kennedy ran across the finish line with Oliver several feet behind her. The excited six-year-old she was, Kennedy had jumped up and down, the biggest smile plastered on her face. Oliver had been a sore loser, however, and tugged hard at one of her pigtails. A call to Sheriff Forbes later, and the unspoken 'we're not friends and probably never will be' hung thick in the air between them until sixth grade. Kennedy never talked to Oliver, and Oliver continued to think of her as a smartass and show off who wouldn't shut up. Who knew science fair projects could form a friendship between two people who couldn't stand each other?

Oliver let out a long sigh. "Because it didn't seem important at the time?" He held out his hand expectantly. "Can I have my notebook back please?"

Rolling her eyes, Kennedy huffed before grabbing the object back out of her backpack and handing it over. As more students filled into the classroom, Kennedy leaned over her desk, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "So, how did Tyler and Jeremy take the news when they found out?"

Oliver only glared in response.

"So not well then." Before Kennedy could get another word in; however, Mrs. Halpern walked into the room, placing down the calculus textbook onto the front desk, and began the lesson.

It was two o'clock in the afternoon when Kennedy finished all of her classes for the day; like most of the other seniors, she had gotten her schedule moved around for an early dismissal so she could make it to the library in time for work. The elementary and middle schools released their students at 2:40 P.M., and the library's tutoring sessions began at three. Walking down Main Street, Kennedy grinned, allowing her arms to swing back and forth at her side. Her tan shorts and navy blue top kept her cool, and the aviator sunglasses concealed her eyes from the bright sun. With a clear sky on a day like this, the sun found entertainment in reflecting off every surface—car mirrors, shop windows, even Mrs. Lockwood's emerald necklace as she passed Kennedy on the sidewalk. Seeing the five rather large bags Mrs. Lockwood carried, the brief thought of what the mayor's wife was doing out shopping in the middle of the day crossed the brunette's mind, but Kennedy shook the thought out of the way.

"365 more days," she muttered under her breath. "365 more days, and I'll be out of this town and away from all the drama and gossip that goes with it."

And had those all bags been from the liquor store?! Kennedy turned on her heels, skidding against the concrete pavement to try and catch another glance at the logo on the bags, but Mrs. Lockwood had already gone into another store. With a sigh, Kennedy frowned in disappointment of herself. Living in a small town could drive you insane if you let the urge to know everything about everyone and their activities consume you.

"365 more days."

Kennedy made to turn again, but this time, her tennis shoe caught onto a small pebble, and before the brunette could process it, she felt herself fall forwards. Or she would have, if her shoulders hadn't been caught between two hands.

"Whoa, there," a male voice rang in her ears. The hands steadied her, and Kennedy looked up to see a man in what she assumed to be his early twenties staring at her. Raven black hair, leather jacket, black V-neck, the typical attire of a rebel with a James Dean philosophy on life, he had to be at least six foot, the way his tall frame hovered over Kennedy's petite body. A shiver ran down her spine at the sight of him, and she watched in confusion as his bright, electric blue eyes scanned her face for something.

Kennedy bit her lip. They were too close, and it didn't appear his hands were releasing her shoulders out of their own free will anytime soon. So she took it upon herself and forced her feet to move backwards, allowing her body to move away from his hands and put a decent distant between the two of them. She tilted her head as she noticed his eyes were still scanning her. She noticed a brief flicker of recognition and surprise on his face, but she didn't understand why.

"Eliza?" he mumbled. His hand reached out to grasp her shoulder again, but she shook him off, folding her arms across her chest.

Okay, so maybe he wasn't a creep. Just confused. "I'm—I'm sorry, I think you have me confused for someone else." She paused, eyes locking with his. Had this happened before? Why…the leather jacket, the sounds of people chatting away in the background, the clear blue sky…why was she feeling the strangest sense of déjà vu right now?

He blinked, looking hurt but also perhaps hopeful. He retracted his arm, pushing both his hands into his pockets. "Oh. My…my mistake. You just look like an old friend of mine."

Is that how he always greeted old friends? With a look full of surprise, remorse, and longing? If so, she wasn't sure if she ever wanted to become one of this man's old friends. "I'm Kennedy," she corrected.

"Yeah."

"Yeah," she repeated lamely, looking for an escape route. This conversation was headed down hill, and she was beginning to run late for work, despite the public library being only five feet away.

Luckily for her, the blue-eyed stranger took care of it. "M'sorry for bothering you. Have a nice day." He took a step to the right and began walking down the street, but not before turning around and leaving her with one last word of advice. "You should be careful where you walk. You don't want to bump into the wrong person next time you trip on a rock."

She let out a short laugh. "I'll keep that in mind. Thanks."

He nodded, walking away. "Anytime, Kennedy. Anytime."

When he was out of sight, Kennedy released the tense breath she hadn't realized she had been holding. Walking the few steps left to reach the library doors, Kennedy shook her head, moving the interaction between her and Mystery Blue Eyes to the back of her mind.

Time to get to work.

"His name is Stefan Salvatore. He lives with his uncle at the old Salvatore boarding house. He hasn't lived here since he was a kid. Military family, so they moved around a lot. He's a Gemini, and his favorite color is blue," Caroline explained. She waved her hands around as she talked, and Kennedy fought the urge to grab them and tape them to her blue dress so they wouldn't move.

Bonnie stared at Caroline in shock but mostly disbelief. "You got all of that in one day?"

Caroline waved her hand again, dismissing the notion. "Oh, please. I got all that between third and fourth period. We're planning a June wedding."

"Yeah, in your dreams. I'll make sure to tell Ollie his sister's getting hitched." Kennedy giggled as the blonde huffed in annoyance, turned, and walked over to another student from school.

The trio just arrived at the Mystic Grill, the town's local bar and grill. Most of Mystic Falls' teenagers could be seen spending their afternoons and early evenings there, whether to study or to just hang with friends. A loud hum of activity always filled the air; the restaurants' patrons chatting amongst themselves. Clinks from shot glasses could be heard towards the back, where the bar sat next to the pool table. The lightning in the building was dim, warm, yellow lights shining down from the ceiling. A few standing lamps could be found scattered around the room as well, casting shadows on the faux stone walls. Spotting Oliver cleaning up a now-empty table in the middle of the room, Kennedy pointed it out to Bonnie.

"Shall we?" she asked.

"We shall."

An order of French fries and two Cokes later, Kennedy and Bonnie sat across from Matt. Although Kennedy wasn't thrilled to be involved in the conversation, she knew that she and Bonnie, as both Elena and Matt's friends since they were children, had to set the boy straight.

"How's Elena doing?" he asked. His elbows leaned against the rustic-looking wood, and he had his face propped up by his hands. His face was solemn, and his blue eyes were laced with concern. Kennedy understood he was genuinely interested in Elena's well-being; he was just being too much of a chicken to check up on the girl himself.

"How do you think she's doing, Matt?" Kennedy asked, and it came out a bit harsher than she intended.

Bonnie shrugged her shoulders. "Her mom and dad died. She's putting on a good face, but it's only been four months."

And here it comes. "Has she said anything about me?"

Shaking her head, Bonnie rolled her eyes and leaned back in her seat. "Oh, no. So not getting in the middle. You pick up the phone and call her."

Kennedy nodded, biting into a French fry. "Yeah, and while you're calling her, make sure to apologize for not speaking to her all summer long. It made you look petty."

"I feel weird calling her. Hell, I feel weird even seeing her. She broke up with me."

"Give it more time, Matt," Bonnie explained. But her face fell into a soft frown, and Kennedy remembered why she never played poker with Bonnie on her team. Worst poker face ever.

Their three gazes followed Elena as she walked into the Grill, followed by the new boy—whose name according to Caroline was apparently Stefan, not Steven nor Ian—close behind. Kennedy watched as the two glanced around the restaurant before smiling at each other. And there went her chances of the year being drama free.

"More time, huh?" he muttered, eyes downcast. Kennedy felt sorry for him and reached out to place a comforting hand on his shoulder, but Matt had already stood up from his seat, walked over to Elena and Stefan, and introduced himself.

Kennedy smiled softly. "Way to be the bigger man, Matt."

A few minutes later, Elena and Stefan had joined the table, along with Caroline, who know doubt had just joined to further learn more about the town's new eye candy. Not that she couldn't learn most of it from the gossip she spent most of her school days filling her ears with. Matt had left the table to play with Tyler Lockwood, another football player.

"So you were born in Mystic Falls?" Caroline asked.

Kennedy sipped on her Coke, swirling the straw in her drink between breaks. She was interested in Stefan's responses, but she could tell the others seemed more eager. While she sat relaxed in her seat, legs crossed and head leaning against the back, the others leaned against propped-up elbows, eyes never straying from Stefan's face. Kennedy couldn't be bothered to put so much effort into the conversation. Not because she didn't care or didn't want to make any new friends, but because she felt like she didn't have to try too hard. This Stefan was friendly, even if a bit reserved. Perhaps he was shy, but to Kennedy, he gave off the vibe of someone she could chat to about most anything, the same vibe she received from people who were her friends. She felt like she already knew him, even if she knew virtually nothing about him.

"Mm-hmm. And moved when I was still young."

"Parents?" Bonnie asked.

"My parents passed away." Kennedy sat up, intrigued, not at the information but the way he said it. His voice didn't soften nor crack; his face kept the same neutral expression he had worn all evening. He barely even blinked during the sentence. He said it so matter-of-fact that Kennedy felt it was just that and nothing more: a fact.

He turned towards Elena. Oh, Kennedy thought, so he heard about the accident. Are people really still gossiping about that at school?

Elena frowned, and before she could speak, Kennedy dragged the conversation away from her, wanting to avoid a pity party to start for Elena and Stefan. "I'm sorry. Any siblings?"

Stefan's eyes glanced towards her. To Kennedy, it appeared to be the first time he had truly noticed her existence at the table. He blinked, his green eyes searching her face for something. It was the same look of recognition she had seen early that day on Mystery Blue Eyes's face. He shook his head. "None that I talk to. I live with my uncle."

"So, Stefan…" Caroline was quick to redirect the conversation to herself. "If you're new, then you don't know about the party tomorrow."

"Party?" Kennedy asked. "They're still doing that after what happened last year?" She felt an elbow dig into her stomach. "Hey, ow." She glared at Caroline.

"It's a back to school thing at the Falls," Bonnie explained.

Stefan nodded, turning to look at Elena. "Are you going?"

"Of course she is," Bonnie and Kennedy answered together. Having both seen the glances Stefan and Elena kept sending each other's way, the duo had picked up on the mutual interest and decided to run with it.

A phone rang, and Kennedy glanced down at her cell. Reading the caller I.D as Mom, she got up from the table, grabbing her purse with her. She waved and mumbled out a quick goodbye before answering the call.

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Dear, do you mind picking up some groceries on your way home?" Marian's voice came through the phone's speakers.

"Sure. What do you need?"

"Eat your vegetables, Kenn," Bryan instructed, fork raised and pointed at his daughter.

Kennedy glanced sheepishly up from her plate, feeling much like a five year old being commanded by their parent, before shrugging her shoulders. "Sorry, Dad. M'not really hungry."

Letting out a small laugh, Marian shook her head. "That's why we don't eat a big snack at the Grill before dinner."

"It was the first day back at school," Kennedy defended, twirling the green beans on her plate with her fork. "Everyone wanted to meet up afterwards to catch up."

Placing his napkin on the table and pushing his clean plate forward, Bryan sat up in his chair. "Everyone being the same five people you hung out with all summer, yeah?"

Kennedy laughed, nodding. "Yeah, except Oliver was working so we weren't really hanging out." She bit into a green bean. "Oh, and the new junior at school joined us at school—Stefan. I guess he just moved back in with his uncle. I think he has a thing for Elena. He was making the googly eyes at her in history class this morning."

Bryan's eyes raised at the information. "Stefan? He wouldn't happen to be a Salvatore, would he?"

"I think so." Kennedy shrugged her shoulders, not understanding the significance. "Why? Were you one of his doctors as a child or something? He said he used to live here, but his parents were in the military, so they moved around a lot."

Bryan picked up his empty plate, as well as his wife's and walked over to the sink. "Uh, yeah…Him and his brother both."

Marian turned towards her daughter. "You said he was interested in Elena? Isn't it a bit too soon for her to be getting back into a relationship? I mean, her and Matthew just broke up."

"Mom, they broke up months ago. Haven't talked to each other all summer, in fact. Although, I'm not sure Matt's ready to give up on them, but I think Elena's ready to move on with her life. Start fresh. I think she wants to get past all the sadness and negativity and be happy again."

Kennedy picked up her own plate and scraped the remaining green beans into the white trash bin in the dim pantry before handing it to her father. She leaned against the counter. "Besides, there are more important things than worrying about guys in life, and I'm sure Elena agrees. I'm not even positive she's interested in Stefan too, just that they seemed to click at school today."

The next morning went smoothly. Kennedy woke up on time and was dressed and ready by the time Bonnie came honking in her driveway with her Prius. However, Tanner's junior history class was not having the same luck as Kennedy. As she sat in the back, scribbling red marks across the practice exams the juniors had taken towards the end of class the day before, Mr. Tanner was getting frustrated with the students' lack of response to his lesson. Kennedy couldn't blame the students, though. Even she grew bored with his lectures, and she loved history. His monotone voice and bland classroom made his teaching style and environment boring and allowed his students to grow tired easily. It didn't help that this was an 8 o'clock class, and most of the students still wanted to be curled up in their cozy beds.

"The Battle of Willow Creek took place right at the end of the war in our very own Mystic Falls," Mr. Tanner continued, eyes focusing in on the back of the classroom. "How many casualties resulted in this battle? Ms. Bennett?"

346, Kennedy thought as she watched Bonnie's face fall and a small grimace take hold. "Um…a lot?" she answered, dropping her pen onto the desk. "I'm not sure. Like a whole lot."

Mr. Tanner shook his head, clearly not amused with Bonnie's witty response. "Cute becomes dumb in an instant, Ms. Bennett." And there was the reason everyone called Tanner an asshole behind his back. "Mr. Donovan? Would you like to take this opportunity to overcome your embedded jock stereotype?"

A quick shake of his head should have been enough of an answer in itself, but Matt decided to grace his teacher with a verbal response as well. "It's okay, Mr. Tanner, I'm cool with it."

Kennedy held back a giggle at Mr. Tanner's exasperated sigh. Sometimes she caught herself wondering why he even bothered teaching if he hated his students and didn't want to deal with smart-mouths, but then she remembered the high school's policy that all coaching staff had to also be teachers.

"Hmm, Elena? Surely you can enlighten us about one of the town's most significantly historical events?" Tanner had placed himself right in front of the brunette's desk, and even from the back of the classroom, Kennedy could tell how intimidating he appeared looming over Elena.

"I'm sorry," she muttered. "I—I don't know." Her eyes were downcast, and Kennedy felt sorry for her friend.

"I was willing to be lenient last year for obvious reasons, Elena. But the personal excuses ended with summer break." Kennedy's eyes hardened, and the red pen slipped out of her grip and onto the tile floor. Unwilling to participate in a pity party was one thing, but wrongly informing Elena that her parents' deaths were not a legitimate excuse for knowing an answer on the second day of school was another. Tanner was such an asshole.

Kennedy began to raise her hand to inform Tanner the answer so he would back off the other students, but before her hand even reached mid-air, Stefan Salvatore's voice rang through the class.

"There were 346 casualties. Unless you're counting local civilians."

Mr. Tanner looked taken aback, and the fluorescent lighting seemed to cast a shadow on his face. He almost looked disappointed that he wasn't able to continue humiliating the rest of the class until he would then make Kennedy answer. "That's correct, Mister…?"

"Salvatore," Stefan answered.

Mr. Tanner nodded, leaning against his desk. "Salvatore. Any relation to the original settlers here at Mystic Falls?"

"Distant."

"Well, very good. Except—" Of course, there had to be something wrong with Stefan's answer. Tanner always had to find something wrong with everyone's answer. "Of course, there were no civilian casualties in this battle." Mr. Tanner turned back to the chalkboard, clearly having assumed the conversation was over.

Kennedy frowned at that. She distinctly remembered reading something in the library about there having been a fire at a church or something during that battle, but she couldn't remember the number of casualties or if anyone had actually been in the church that day.

"Actually," Stefan raised his voice, "there were 27, sir. Confederate soldiers, they fired on the church, believing it to be housing weapons. They were wrong. It was a night of great lost. The founder's archives are, uh, stored in civil hall if you'd like to brush up on your facts, Mr. Tanner."

Kennedy's mouth dropped, and she heard the other students begin to murmur amongst themselves. No one had stood up to Tanner that way, at least not in their history class. The only one who any of them had heard of doing it before was Kennedy, and she had only did it on rare occasions with physical proof in hand to settle her case.

"Hmm…" was the only response the teacher gave.

Back at home, Kennedy had changed into a blue summer dress and laced up a white Keds. Tonight was the Back to School at the Falls party, and although she didn't seem like it, she wasn't one to miss a party. Partying was one of the only opportunities for Kennedy to let loose and have fun. Between work, school, track, church, and family commitments, she didn't have much room for relaxing and enjoying herself. Sure she'd read for pleasure or watch Gossip Girl before bed and hang out with her friends on the weekend, but sometimes a girl had to get out for more than an hour or two at a time and have some fun. Especially if that fun involved booze.

Grabbing her purse off its hook on the white door of her bedroom, Kennedy walked down the stairs. Reaching the living room, she plopped onto the brown leather couch next to her father. His eyes never strayed from his book. Sighing dramatically, she glanced around the room, mentally noting the clutter gathering on the coffee table—a few bills that needed to be paid, manila folders that were no doubt patient files, a couple of photos from their family trip to Washington D.C. last summer that her mother was just now getting around to scrapbooking. Kennedy picked one up, glancing at her sixteen-year-old-self standing in front of the Lincoln Memorial.

She let out another sigh, glancing back at her father.

"What?" He looked up. His glasses had fallen down and now rested on the middle of his nose.

"The Back to the Falls Party is tonight," she replied, a bright smile stretching across her face.

"And…?"

"And I was wondering if I could go. You let me last year, and I just wanted to make sure I was still allowed before I leave with Bonnie and Elena."

He placed the book down on top of the patient folders, and Kennedy recognized it as one of the ancient medical journals he collected in his home office. There seemed to be thousands of them lining his bookshelves. He gave her a look and opened his mouth to speak, but Kennedy interrupted before any words could spill out.

"Oh, come one. Are you really about to tell me no? You've let me the last three years. Why wouldn't it be okay now? It's my last chance to go to one!"

"Now, I haven't even said anything yet," he argued.

"I know that look," Kennedy explained, folding her arms.

"I'm just not sure it's a good idea. It's a school night, and with it being in the woods, I'm nervous. There was just an animal attack not a few towns over."

"Dad, I'll be fine. I promise! No drinking, no anything even remotely dangerous. I'll just be hanging out with Bonnie, Elena, Oliver, and Caroline all night, and I'll be home before you know it." She gave him a pleading smile, brown eyes begging for permission.

He shook his head. "Fine, fine. But you have to be home by 11. No later than 11, got it?"

"Got it," she muttered before seeing the look in his eyes. "Got it, sir," she said a bit more enthusiastically. She smiled, hugging him before rushing out the door. "Thanks, Dad!"

For a summer night in the south, the air was cool and dry against Kennedy's skin. She was leaning against one of the park's banisters, standing next to Elena and Bonnie. The music was loud, and the only sources of lighting were the bonfire warming the large group of teenagers surrounding it a few yards away and the string lights the sophomore class had set up an hour before the party began. Sipping on the punch, Kennedy could tell by the awful taste it had been spiked with more vodka than it should be. Next time, she'd have to suggest the freshmen weren't in charge of the drinks. They had been so eager to get drunk that one of them had poured a bit too much alcohol into the bowl. Kennedy's eyes scanned the area, and a smile spread across her face. Laughter and chatter filled the air as teenagers stood too close to each other and enjoyed the last freedom they would have until Christmas Break.

"Just admit it, Elena," Bonnie nagged, a smug grin across her face.

Elena sighed and pushed on her jacket sleeve. "Oh, okay, so he's a little pretty."

"He has that romance novel stare," Bonnie argued and nudged Kennedy to help her out.

"Oh, she's right." Kennedy nodded, tossing the empty cup into a trash can. "Those green orbs could pierce right through your soul. Plus, have you looked at his hair? He's definitely been catalogue ordered off a sports model magazine."

Elena laughed at her friends, running her fingers through her long hair.

"So where is he?" Bonnie asked, and the trio glanced around the party. None of them spotted him amongst the familiar faces of their classmates.

"I don't know." Elena's eyes brightened with an idea. "You tell me, you're the psychic one."

"Psychic?" Kennedy asked, eyebrows raised.

"Grams," she explained, and with that one word, Kennedy understood. Bonnie's grandmother was a very interesting lady and quite the character as well. According to Grandma Bennett, Bonnie and the rest of her family through her mother's side of the family were descended from witches, going back all the way to Salem. Growing up, the girls used to joke with Bonnie and pretended to cast spells on the kids who were mean to them in elementary school. Well, until Kennedy's mom found out and informed them it was not nice to make fun of Bonnie's grandmother nor was it appropriate to poke boys with a stick and tell them they'd turn into toads the next morning if they weren't nicer.

"Okay, so give me a sec. Grams says I have to concentrate." Bonnie closed her eyes, but Elena held up a finger to stop her.

"Wait, you need a crystal ball." Turning around, Elena glanced around until she found an empty beer bottle on the ground. "Tada."

"Now tell us the future, Bonnie the Mystic," Kennedy laughed as Elena handed the girl the glass bottle.

Bonnie reached for the glass, and her eyes widened as soon as her hand connected with Elena's. She frowned, and a brief second went by before she tore her hand away from the glass.

"What?" the other two girls spoke in unison.

"That was weird. When I touched you, I saw a crow."

"Oh, the omen of death..." Kennedy sang jokingly, taking the bottle and tossing into the trash.

"What?" Elena asked, head tilted and body leaned forward. Wait, she wasn't buying into this was she?

"A crow," Bonnie repeated. "There was fog, a man…" Seeing the look on Elena's face, Bonnie shook her head. "I'm drunk. It's the drinking. There's nothing psychic about it. Yeah?"

"Yeah," Kennedy agreed, looping her arm with Bonnie. "Wanna go get a refill?" With a nod as confirmation, Kennedy pulled the brunette with her. "Well, catch up with you later, okay?"

"Okay?"

It didn't take long for Kennedy and Bonnie to grab another round of drinks—a bottle of beer for Kennedy and another glass of punch for Bonnie. Hearing a laugh, the two spotted Oliver a few feet away, red solo cup in hand. As he brought a red solo cup to his lips, Oliver rolled his eyes, shoulder bumping with one of the guys from the football team. Hooking her thumb towards the blond, Kennedy motioned for Bonnie to follow her. By the time they reached him, Oliver had glanced up and noticed their presence.

"Well, if it isn't the Psychic and the Brainiac," he announced, lips curled up into a cheeky smirk and arm crossed over his chest.

"Ha ha. You're such a comedian," Kennedy spoke dryly.

He shrugged. "I know. It's a curse, what can I say."

Meanwhile, Bonnie's elbow connected with Kennedy's ribcage. "Ow," she mumbled, free hand rubbing her side. Why was she always getting elbowed?

"You told him?" Bonnie asked, eyebrows raised. It wasn't that Bonnie cared about Oliver knowing, but she didn't need the whole school knowing that her Grams was convinced she was a witch. It was bad enough most of Mystic Falls thought Grams was crazy every other day. Talk of witchcraft? In a small southern town? That was an easy way to get thrown into a mental hospital.

"When did I have a chance to tell him? I literally heard about this story two minutes ago."

"Elena told me," he interrupted the two of them. "Sometime earlier today when I passed her in the hall. So your Grams thinks your psychic?"

"Yeah, can we just—not talk about it?" Bonnie's voice softened as she took another sip of her punch. "Besides there's much more important things to be talking about."

"Like what?"

"Like you and Vicki," Kennedy interjected, raising her eyebrows. She watched as Oliver rolled his eyes. The news that he and Vicki Donovan were back together had spread through the school like wildfire, and although Kennedy had heard about the news from the horse's mouth, it didn't mean she hadn't taken the time to listen to what everyone else was saying.

Cheeks puffed out, Oliver sighed. "Yeah, Kenn, What about it?"

"I just—"

"We just care about you, Ollie." Bonnie interjected, and Kennedy nodded in agreement, eyes locked on the blond in front of them as Bonnie shrugged, an air of nonchalance surrounding her. "And we just want what's best for you."

Kennedy knew Oliver didn't like when the two of them ganged up on him about his relationship with the older Donovan, but to be fair, Oliver and Vicki had been the longest on-again, off-again relationship Mystic Falls High School had. The two had been at it since ninth grade, and Kennedy had never been a fan of it. When Oliver was dating Vicki, Tyler was. When neither of them were dating Vicki, the older Donovan could be found hanging out with Elena's kid brother Jeremy, smoking pot and doing whatever other drugs they could get their grubby hands on. Although it was obvious that both Oliver and Vicki loved each other, Kennedy just didn't have faith that he understood what would happen if their relationship truly ended. Tens of break-ups over the course of four years took enough of a toll on Oliver, yet every time, the two of them seemed to get back together. Kennedy just didn't want to see him get hurt when something happened, whether it was because the duo broke up or because Vicki got hurt from her poor life choices.

"Yeah, you guys, I know." Another sigh, his arms folded across his chest. "I swear you guys act like I don't know what I'm doing."

"No, Ollie. It's not that. We just want you happy, that's all." Bonnie's voice grew soft, a touch of sympathy lingered in her eyes.

The male's gaze fell, eyes locking on the beat up, white Chuck Taylor's that he'd managed to wear to a sole. The chatter between the three had grown to an awkward silence, and Oliver leaned back against a wooden post, his left hand used as support, right hand holding his cup of beer as he brought it back to his lips.

"Have you met the new guy? Stefan? Earlier in history, the two were giving each other googly eyes. We think Elena has the hots for him." Kennedy chirped, hoping to steer the conversation away from Oliver's relationship.

Slowly, a grin crept on the blond's face, and Kennedy smiled.

"Of course you guys do. I swear, that's all you chicks ever talk about. Us guys."

"That's not all we do," Kennedy threw at him, despite knowing he was joking. "Right, Bon?"

"Huh?" She drew her glance back to the duo. "Oh, yeah. We talk about other stuff. Like shoes, nail polish, clothes—we always talk about clothes, feminine stuff."

"Alright, alright. I've heard enough." Oliver shook his head, cringing from an imaginary chill.

Kennedy's grin grew, and she high-fived Bonnie.

"You guys are the worst," he groaned, lips holding back a smile.

Rolling her eyes, Kennedy pushed at Oliver's shoulder lightly. "We aren't that bad. And either way, you still love us."

"Eh." he shrugged. He peeled his gaze away from the two of them, and Kennedy cleared her throat.

"Oliver!"

"What?!" Eyes immediately narrowed at him as she crossed her arms over her chest. A large huff and a playful roll of the eyes later, he finally gazed back at them.

"I guess I love you both," he teased.

"You better, or else I'll make your life a living hell with my so-called physic powers." Bonnie smirked.

Oliver threw his hands up in defense, and Kennedy let out a giggle. "Yes ma'am." Oliver laughed, bring the red solo cup back to his lips.

A few more drinks later, the party was still roaring, and everyone was having a good time. Kennedy, Oliver, and Bonnie were dancing by the bonfire with some of Kennedy's friends from track and Oliver's friends from football; however, their fun didn't last long when Elena's call for help rang over the loud music and chatty partiers.

The three glanced at each other before rushing over to the help their friends.

Matt had reached Elena and Jeremy first, spying his sister's bloody and unconscious body on the ground. "Vicki? Vicki, what the hell?!"

"What happened to her?" Oliver demanded, hovering over his bleeding girlfriend.

"Yeah, what happened to her?" Tyler repeated. His eyes glared accusingly at Jeremy, but Kennedy was quick to step in between Tyler and Jeremy. She didn't have time for any of the petty drama revolving around who was in love with Vicki and who should be dating her.

"Somebody! Call an ambulance!" Matt yelled, and Kennedy nodded, pulling out her phone as Tyler instructed everyone to give the poor girl some space. Meanwhile, Oliver had ripped off his t-shirt and was holding it against Vicki's neck while Matt tried to get a response out of her.

"911, what's your emergency?"

"Hello? We're at the Mystic Falls Park, and someone's been seriously hurt. She's lying unconscious on the ground. We need an ambulance immediately."

"We'll have one on the way now, ma'am. We'd like to keep you on the line while it's on the way. Can you tell me how she's been hurt?"

Kennedy placed the phone against her hand. "Does anyone know what exactly happened?"

"It's her neck," Elena spoke up. "Something bit her. She's losing a lot of blood."

"Something bit her, and she's losing a lot of blood. Looks like it might have been an animal attack."

"Okay, can you apply pressure to the wound?"

"Yeah, we've got a t-shirt pressed against it now. Please hurry."

A few moments later, the ambulance wheeled Vicki and Matt to Mystic Falls General Hospital, leaving the teenagers to disperse and rid the evidence of alcohol from the park given the abundance of cops now at the party, gathering statements.

Kennedy had just finished giving her statement to the police, glad to have switched to water after just one glass of punch and one bottle of beer, when she saw Bonnie walking away from Elena with Caroline and Oliver in tow.

"Where are you three headed?"

Oliver sighed, rubbing at his hands. "M'heading to the hospital to keep Matt company while Vicki's in surgery. You two mind making sure Care gets home safe and sound?"

"I'll be fine, Ollie," Caroline insisted, but both Kennedy and Bonnie could hear the slight slur in her words.

"We've got her. Don't worry." Oliver nodded, patting Kennedy on the shoulder with the hand not covered in blood and walking away.

"So Mainline Coffee then?" Bonnie suggested. "Figured we can wait for news there and sober this one up while we're at it."

"Sounds like a plan to me. I could use a coffee before getting back to my folks."

"Let's go then."

Kennedy sighed, rubbing her hands against her face. She was exhausted, and although the coffee was delicious, it wasn't doing much on the whole keeping her awake bit.

"Are you sober yet?" Bonnie asked Caroline, glancing at the clock.

Caroline shook her head. "No."

"Well, keep drinking. I gotta get you home. I gotta get me home. It's—" Bonnie glanced at her wrist before realizing she wasn't wearing a watch. "What time is it?"

"11:45," Kennedy answered before the words sunk in. "It's 11:45. My dad's going to kill me. I was supposed to be home 45 minutes ago."

"Do you need a ride?" Bonnie asked, pushing away her coffee and reaching for her keys.

"No, no. I'll walk home. It's not too far from here. Besides, I'm already late. A few more minutes isn't going to kill me, and you're need here to get her in condition to deal with her mom. I'm sure the sheriff won't appreciate her daughter coming home drunk."

"Okay, if you're sure."

"I'm positive. Stay. I'll see you guys tomorrow at school."

Kennedy stood up, grabbing her phone and purse before walking out of the coffee shop. She had just finished closing the door when her shoulder bumped into someone.

"M'sorry. I wasn't looking where I was—" She glanced up to meet a pair of intense blue eyes and raven hair. "—going."

"And we meet again. Where are you rushing off to, Kennedy?" he asked, leaning against the window to the coffee shop.

"Home. Out past my curfew."

"It's not even midnight," he argued.

She laughed. "My dad's a bit of a stickler for rules, so my curfew's a lot stricter than others around here."

"Need a ride?" He pointed to an older model of pale blue Camaro parked across the street.

Kennedy shook her head. She knew better than to ride in a car with a stranger, even when still a bit tipsy. "Sorry, but I'm already late, and my dad would freak even more if I was driven home by a boy. Especially one he's never met before."

"Ah, I get it. Well, have a safe walk home then."

"Thanks," she gave him a small grin and wave before walking off.

Weird.

<>

"Do you know what time it is?" Bryan barked before Kennedy was even fully through the door of her house. She sighed, having expected this. Walking into the living room, she saw her father sitting in the same seat he'd been in when she left, the same medical journal in his lap.

"Ten minutes past midnight, I know. I was planning on being home on time, but Vicki Donovan got attacked by some animal after she went off in the woods by herself. Elena's kid brother found her, and I called for an ambulance. I had to stick around longer to give my statement to the deputies and such. I'm sorry, I meant to call, but by the time I remembered my phone had died."

Kennedy heard her father sigh and knew she was going to be let off the hook, if only reluctantly.

"I'm really sorry," she pleaded.

"I told you I didn't want you going, and just because I'm letting you off with a warning this time," he pointed his finger at her to emphasize his point. "doesn't mean this will happen again. Curfews are non-negotiable. Especially with the animal attacks in the area becoming more present. I don't want to receive a call from work saying you're in the hospital because a bear or cougar mauled you."

"Yes, sir," she nodded her head, backing up towards the stairs.

"Now go to bed. I'm sure your mother will have a few things to say about this in the morning as well."

With that, Kennedy scampered off to her bed, glad to be able to relax against the cotton sheets and sleep.

[fuckheadwitha]

Listening to Rolling Stone's Top 500 Albums of All Time

Rolling Stone released an updated list of their top 500 albums of all time and being trapped in the purgatory of covid quarantine this seems like the perfect moment to tackle what an almost completely irrelevant former counter-culture institution has to say about music (we can’t actually blame Rolling Stone for this list, a huge number of musicians and critics voted to make it). I am going to listen to every single one of these, all the way through, with a level of attention that's not super intense but I'm definitely not having them on in the background as simple aural wallpaper. Two caveats though: I can make an executive decision to skip any album if I feel the experience is sufficiently miserable, and I'm also going to be skipping the compilation albums that I feel aren't really worth slots (best ofs, etc.). In addition, I will be ordering them as I go, creating a top 500 of the top 500 (it will be less than 500 since we've already established I'm skipping some of these).

Here are 500-490:

#500 Arcade Fire - Funeral

I can already tell I'm going to be at odds with this list if one of the most important albums of my high school years is at the bottom. That being said, I haven't actually given this whole thing a listen since probably the early 2010s, before Arcade Fire fatigue set in and the hipsterati appointed band of a generation just kinda seemed to fade from popular consciousness. I actually dreaded re-experiencing it, since the synthesis of anthemic rock and quirky folk instrumentation which Arcade Fire brought mainstream has now become the common shorthand of insufferable spotify friendly folk pop. Blessedly, the first half of the album easily holds up, largely propelled by dirty fast rhythm guitar, orchestration that's tuneful rather than obnoxious, and lyrics which come off as earnest rather than pretentious. The middle gets a little sappy and “Crown of Love”, a song I definitely used to like, really starts the grate. And then we get to “Wake Up”, whose cultural saturation spawned thousands of dorky indie rock outfits that confused layered strings and horns with power and meaning. This song definitely hasn't survived the film trailers and commercials which it so ubiquitously overlayed, but the line about "a million little gods causing rainstorms, turning every good thing to rust" still attacks the part of my brain capable of sincere emotion. This album is probably going to hold the top spot for a while, because although so many elements of Funeral that made it feel so meaningful, that made it stand out so much in 2004, have been seamlessly assimilated into an intellectually and emotionally bankrupt indie pop industrial complex, the album itself still has a genuine vulnerability and bangers that still manage to rip.

#499

Rufus, Chaka Khan - Ask Rufus

Before she became a name in her own right, Chaka Khan was the voice of the band Rufus, and it’s definitely her voice that shines amongst some spritely vibey funk. That’s not to say that these aren’t some jams on their own. “At Midnight” is a banging opener with a sprint to the finish, and although the explicitly named but kinda boring “Slow Screw Against the Wall” feels weak, this wasn’t really supposed to be an album of barn burners. This was something people put on their vinyl record players while they chilled on vinyl furniture after a night of doing cocaine. “Everlasting Love” is a bop with a bassline like a Sega Genesis game, and the twinkling piano on “Hollywood” adds a playful levity to lyrics that are supposed to be both tackily optimistic about making it big out in LA and subtly realistic about the kind of nightmare world showbiz can be. “Better Days” is another track that manages to be a bittersweet jam with a catchy sour saxophone and playful synths under Chaka Khan’s vamping. This album definitely belongs on a ‘chill funk to study and relax to’ playlist.

#498

Suicide - Suicide

We’ve hit the first album that could be rightly called a progenitor for multiple genres that followed it. Someone could say there’s a self-serving element of this being on a Rolling Stone list (the band was one of the first to adopt the label ‘Punk’ after seeing it in a Lester Bangs article) but the album’s legacy is basically indisputable. EBM, industrial, punk, post-punk, new wave, new whatever all have a genealogy that connects to Suicide, and it’s easy to hear the band in everything that followed. But what the band actually is is two guys, one with an electric organ and one with a spooky voice, doing spooky simple riffs and saying spooky simple things. Simplicity is definitely not a dis here. The opener “Ghost Rider” makes a banger out of four notes and one instrument, and the refrain ‘America America is killing its youth’ is really all the lyrical complexity you need to fucking get it. “Cheree” and “Girl” have almost identical lyrics (‘oh baby’ vs ‘oh girl’) but “Cheree” is more like a fairy tale and “Girl” is more like a sonic handjob. “Frankie Teardrop” has the audacity to tell a ten minute story with its lyrics, but of course there is intermittent, actually way too loud screaming breaking up the narrative of a guy who loses everything then kills his family and himself. The song is basically a novelty, and I think you can probably say the whole album is a novelty between its brevity and character. But for a bite sized snack this album casts a huge shadow.

#497

Various Artists - The Indestructible Beat of Soweto

The fact that this particular compilation always ends up in the canon has a lot to do with the cultural context it existed in, being America’s first encounter with South African contemporary music during the decline of apartheid (it wouldn’t end until a decade later in 1994 with the country’s first multi-racial elections). Music journos often bring up the fact Ladysmith Black Mambazo, the all male choir singing on the album ender “Nansi Imali”, sang on Paul Simon’s Graceland like their virtue is they helped Paul Simon get over his depression and not, like, the actual music. But also like, how is the actual music? Jams. Ubiquitous, hooky guitars propel the songs along with bright choruses over low lead vocals, but I didn’t expect the synthesizer on the bop “Qhude Manikiniki”, nor the discordant hoedown violin on “Sobabamba”. “Holotelani” is a groove to walk into the sunset to.

#496

Shakira - Donde Estan los Ladrones

So this is the first head scratcher on the list. It’s not like it sucks. And I think I prefer this 90s guitar pop driven spanish language Shakira to modern superstar Shakira. But I mean, it’s an album of late nineties latin pop minivan music, with a thick syrupy middle that doesn’t do anything for me. The opener and closer stand out though.  ‘Ciega, Sordomuda’, one of the biggest pop songs of the 90s (it was #1 on the charts of literally every country in Latin America), has a galloping acoustic guitar and horn hits with Shakira’s vocals at their most percussive.

#495

Boyz II Men - II

So, if you were alive in the 90s you know Boyz II Men were fucking huge, and the worst song on the album is the second track “All Around the World”, basically a love song to their own success, and also the women they’ve banged. You can tell it was written specifically so that the crowd could go fucking wild when they heard their state/city/country mentioned in the song, and I’m not gonna double check but I’m sure they hit all fifty states. Once you’re over that hump though you basically have an hour of songs to fuck to. “U Know” keeps it catchy with propulsive midi guitar and synth horns, “Jezzebel” starts with a skit and ends with a richly layered jazz tune about falling in love on a train, and “On Bended Knee” has a Ragnarok Online type beat. Honestly this album can drag, but you’re not supposed to be listening to it alone in a state of analysis, you’re supposed to have it on during a date that’s going really, really well.

#494

The Ronettes - Presenting the Fabulous Ronettes

A singles compilation of the Ronettes, the only ones I immediately recognized were ‘Be My Baby’ and ‘Going to the Chapel of Love’, the latter of which I didn’t know existed since the version of the song I knew was by the Dixie Cups, which was apparently a source of drama since the Ronettes did it first but producer Phil Spector refused to release it. I feel like as a retro trip to sixties girl groups it’s full of enough songs about breaking up (for example “Breaking Up”) getting back together (for example “Breaking Up”) and wanting to get married but you can’t, because you’re a teenager (“So Young”).

#493

Marvin Gaye - Here, My Dear

This album only exists because Marvin was required by his divorce settlement to make it and provide all of the royalties to his ex-wife and motown executive Anna Gordy Gaye. It’s absolutely bizarre, phoned in mid tempo funk whose lyrics range from the passive aggressive (“This is what you wanted right?”) to the petulant (“Why do I have to pay attorney’s fees?”). There is a seething realness here that crosses well past the border of uncomfortable. I don’t think it’s an amazing album to listen to, but it’s an amazing album to exist: Marvin Gaye is legally obligated to throw his own divorce pity party, and everyone's invited.

#492

Bonnie Raitt - Nick of Time

I have never heard of Bonnie Raitt before but apparently this album won several grammys including album of the year in 1989 and sold 5 million copies, which I guess goes to show that no award provides less long term relevance than the grammys. The story around the album is pretty heartwarming, it was her first massive hit after a career of whiffs, and Bonnie Raitt herself is apparently a social activist and neat human being. I say all this because this sort of 80s country blues rock doesn't really connect with me, but the artist obviously deserves more than that. I unequivocally like the title track though, a hand-clap backed winding electric piano groove about literally finding love before your eggs dry up.

#491

Harry Styles - Fine Line

I do not think I have ever heard a one direction song because I am an adult who only listens to public radio. I’m totally open to pop bands or boy bands or boy band refugee solo artists, but I don’t like anything here. It’s like a mixtape of the worst pop trends of the decade, from glam rock that sounds like it belongs in a car commercial to folky bullshit that sounds like it belongs in a more family focused car commercial. This gets my first DNP (Does Not Place).

#490

Linda Ronstadt - Heart Like a Wheel

Another soft-rock blues and country album which just doesn’t land with me. But the opener “You’re No Good” is like a soul/country hybrid which still goes hard and the title track hits with the lyrics “And it's only love and it's only love / That can wreck a human being and turn him inside out”.

Current Ranking, which is weirdly almost like an inverse of the rolling stones list so far;

[writing-boyhood]

We did it for the culture — we fucked in the back of your truck.

You talked about football or Condoleeza Rice- I can’t remember which -with your smooth, hard lips. The feeling of your chilled October breath on my back made me think, tentatively, about love, but that would have just been another form of civil disobedience at a time when I was ready to paint my nails a black void (though I didn’t dare).

You see, perception is dangerous — worrying about reputation a strict requirement for living in the American Midwest. You were a blonde-boy high school Republican and I was born Catholic, but oh my god you couldn’t keep your body from entering my own because desire is the great ire of civilized society. We ‘weren’t gay’ but fun is fun, and I’m a quiet revolutionary who adores sunsets and long drives and beaches- even though there are none around here.

It’s easy to start wars when you don’t have to be on the front lines. I’m a scholar, but I adore concepts of getting in the thick of it- we all hate drama but we can’t help our pursue of it. In another world, I would have fought for you, but the social media optics would have been too untenable; though we had a great time looking up at the infinity of the stars after you played in the homecoming football game. But even celestial bodies eventually die out, so what fucking chance did we have?

Its going to kill off a chunk of my heart to leave this town after graduation, but you’ll stay and learn to love a good wife. The leaves will stop whispering about the gossip of us, and our secret will become just a memory. You’ll vote to re-elect Trump and I’ll go marry a man in San Franscisco. The world really screws us over sometimes, but we still had the Fall...

[winchester90210]

The BH 90210 Rewrite. 1x04: The First Time

Rewrite Masterlist

Read the previous episode here!

Song: With or Without You - U2 Spotify or Youtube

Chapter Summary: Tensions run high when old flames reunite.

Pairing: Brief Reader/Daniel (OMC who’s literally in like a paragraph total.) And what you’ve all been waiting for: the beginning of some Reader/Brandon.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of sex, kissing, alcohol, asshole boyfriend, drunk reader, lots of platonic affection, jealousy, SO. MUCH. DRAMA.

My work is not to be reposted or edited without my expressed written consent. (Reblogging is fine and encouraged!!)

Word count: 4,500

A/N: This has to be one of my favorites episodes that I’ve written. The drama, the buildup to a romantic relationship, I love it. Tags are at the bottom, shoot me a message if you would like to be added! Next week we’ll be taking on 1x06: Higher Education!

“Where’s the snow, Eric? The leaves? That little nip in the air? Oh, right. Winter doesn’t exist here. There’s no fall, the leaves don’t even turn color! They’re just…brown. And not even a nice autumn brown but like a…gross sickly brown. And the air quality index? What the hell is that? You have to check something every morning to find out if it’s safe to breathe?!” You rant, and throw your hands in the air. There’s an air of playfulness behind your rant. “We’re in the middle of November and there’s a heat wave!”

“Chill out, Y/N/N. At least we’re not knee-deep in snow or coming inside with frostbite every day,” Your brother rolls his eyes as you sit on his egyptian cotton bed.

“But the snow, Eric-” You begin your rant again when you’re cut off by his door swinging open and your mother standing with the white cordless phone in her hand.

“It’s Daniel,” She says. Daniel?? Wisconsin Daniel?? You launch yourself at the phone and bolt into your room, holding the phone clutch at your ear.

“Daniel?” You ask urgently, shutting your white wooden door behind you with a click.

“Hey, sweetheart,” You can’t believe it’s him. He was one of the reasons you were so hellbound on staying in Madison. “Can’t wait to see you on Friday,” You can feel his smirk through the phone as he speaks.

“What?!”

“I’m flying in from Minneapolis on Friday morning,” You could die. Right then and there. Your boyfriend was coming. Well… sort of boyfriend. You broke up before you moved out of Wisconsin, deciding long distance wouldn’t have worked.

“Minneapolis? But Dane Regional flies direct,” You state, lying down onto your bed. You feel the soft pink pillows against your back. There’s a long hesitation.

“I’ll- I’ll explain when I get there, okay? Your parents even agreed to let me stay the weekend,” You grin at that. “It’s time, yeah?” Wait…time for- oh my god.

-

The next morning, you’re dashing into school with Brandon, until you spot Andrea.

“Hey, Andrea,” He begins, hand on her shoulder getting her attention, “Can you get someone to cover the football game for me against Beverly High on Saturday?”

“I thought you said it was supposed to be one of the biggest games of the year,” She replies.

“Well, it is, but uh something important came up. Right out of the blue, totally unexpected.”

Andrea turns to you, brushing Brandon off for now, “What do you need, Y/N?”

“I need to get out of the school elections report on Friday night,” You say, walking side by side with them.

“Alright… Do you guys have dates or something?” She laughs.

“Old girlfriend from Minneapolis,” Oh. So he does have a date… Cool.

“Oh, why didn’t you just say so? How long were you guys together?” She pries. Who cares? Not you. You don’t care at all. It wasn’t any of your business.

“A year,”

“And then…what happened?” She shrugs, trying to get him to go on. Oh, please don’t.

“We cut each other loose. I don’t believe in long distance relationships,” Makes sense. Valid point. Totally understandable. Good on you, Brandon.

“Oh, same here. My boyfriend’s coming in from Madison.”

“You have a boyfriend?” His head tilts, and they both turn to you.

“Yeah, from… Madison…” You trail off. You’re pretty sure you said that already.

“How long have you guys been together?” Brandon interrogates.

“A years and a half,” you begin, “But he’s not my boyfriend. We decided to be a little more open once I moved, y'know, see other people.” You look at their intrigued gazes. “You guys are really nosey, aren’t you?” You tease.

“I’m a journalist, I’m supposed to be,” Andrea quips before turning down the hall. You catch up with Brenda, Kelly, and Donna down the hall.

“You know what I haven’t been able to figure out ever since I’ve gotten here?” Brenda asks, “How could somebody so gorgeous be an Algebra teacher?” All four of you shift your gazes to the tall muscular man, standing at a classroom’s doorway. “I mean, it’s like he should be a lifeguard or a ski instructor or something!”

“Yeah, he should definitely be working outdoors,” Donna agrees.

“Or indoors,” You joke, raising an eyebrow. You all hush down giggles as the teacher walks over. “I gotta head to the robotics lab, see ya…” You start to walk off. “Good luck, Bren,” you wink.

-

You fumble with your screwdriver as Dylan holds the contraption still. You didn’t even like robotics, but it was the only thing that would fit into your schedule.

“You alright, Y/N/N? You’ve been a nervous wreck this whole class. What’s going on?” Dylan asks. You pause, setting down your screwdriver with a clank.

“My boyfriend’s coming to visit.” Your voice is completely flat as you speak.

“Boyfriend? What about… you know?” He implies, his hands brushing the metal table.

“I thought we agreed not to talk about it,” You whisper to him. “From Madison. Did I not tell you about him?” Your voice returns to normal volume, as to not raise suspicion.

“No, you didn’t.” He states, both of you maintaining intense eye contact as he looks down at you. “Well, he’s like, totally sexy, and SO smart… he like, reads and everything!” You joke, getting Dylan to break away from his intense gaze with a laugh. “He’s really cool, though. He’s sweet, totally gorgeous, loves old movies, classic books,” You really are excited to see him again. You smile fondly.

“Sounds pretentious…” You hear Brandon mumble. “My girlfriend is visiting too, she’s great.” He speaks up, rising from his chair across the room. Oh boy. Here we go again.

“See, the great thing about Sheryl is that not only is she beautiful, but she’s got this incredible personality. I haven’t met many girls out here yet that could even compare to her,” He strides over to you and Dylan, bringing his robotic parts and adjusting the wires. Shut up. Shut up shut up shut up. Please. You have the biggest urge to start banging your head against the table as you avoid both of their gazes. Dylan looks to you, and then looks at him.

“Brandon, I think your memory’s playing tricks on you. We have some major lookers at this school,” You could swear his eyes drift to you again, but you brush it off as you silently work on your part of the robot.

“Nah, but she’s more…real.” Yeah, sure. Whatever.

“Give me a break. She sleeps with you, of course you think she’s special,” Dylan jeers. Your hands tense, you set everything down.

“I didn’t say that!” Brandon argues.

“You mean she doesn’t sleep with you? Does she at least like, read” You suppress a laugh at him, rolling your eyes.

-

After class, you meet up with Dylan at the end of the hall. He stops you, putting his hands on your shoulders briefly.

“You should bring this guy around the Bel Age, I want to meet him,” He wiggles his eyebrows. What was he up to?

“I’ll think about it,” You respond, eyeing him up.

-

Your parents were out for the night, so it was just you, Daniel, and Eric.

You grab Daniel’s hand, leading him up the steps. Shame on your parents for leaving you alone, tsk tsk.

“It’s really good to see you again,” you smile and he gives you a chaste kiss.

“I really missed you,” He plays with the hem of your shirt.

Wait. Now? Yeah, okay.

You kiss him deeply as he leads you backwards onto your bed, his hands around your waist. He begins unbuttoning your shirt but stalls, pulling himself off of you hastily.

“About Minneapolis…” He begins. Really? Now? This is when he wants to do this? “My folks and I moved there not long after you moved down here.” You sense something taut in his voice.

“I… met a girl there.” Oh.

“You met a girl…” You repeat it back, nodding as the gears in your brain working to process this. A girl. Okay. You can deal with that. Girls are great.

“And…we kinda hit it off.” Oh. Cool. Wonderful. Perfect. You slowly move off of your bed, eyes slightly wide, jaw agape. You knew the words were coming but they hit you swiftly, like a punch in the gut.

“And…and that’s it. Right? You guys are great buddies? Friends?” A bottomless pit grew inside you as your eyes welled up. You felt like the ground was about to swallow you up, or at least you wanted it to.

“I had sex with her.” There’s the kicker. “Her name’s Sheryl, you’d really like her! I swear.” Was he really trying to give a sales pitch?? What the fuck. Brushing off how dumb your boyfriend was being and how awful you felt, you were more intrigued by something else.

“With a C or an S?” You button up your shirt, the bottomless pit becoming more of a…garbage fire. Your voice is cold and hard.

“Wh- An S, why?” Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my GOD. You were going to be sick.

-

Everyone was in bed, Daniel was sleeping in one of four guest rooms, and you were staring at your ceiling. Do you tell Brandon? Do you let him carry on being grossly in love with her? Or do you tell him the truth, ultimately destroying him?

You grab the landline on your nightstand and dial his number, and then you check the clock. Midnight. Shit.

You hear him pick up, “Hello?”

“Don’t sleep with her.”

“What?”

“Trust me. Just…don’t,” You hang up abruptly. That might have been a huge mistake.

-

You sit at the restaurant connected to the Bel Age as you wait for Dylan, Brandon, and that other chick to get here. Daniel hasn’t said a word to you the entire time, and vice versa.

“Hey, Y/N/N,”

“Dylan,” You greet him. Sheryl and Brandon trail not far behind him.

“Y/N,” Brandon greets, a hard glaze to his voice.

“Brandon,” You match his tone.

“Sheryl?”

“Daniel?!”

“Do you guys know each other?” Brandon asks, eyebrows knitted together.

“We met at the airport!” Sheryl exclaims, a phony smile on her face. “So good to see you again!”

“Yeah…”

Brandon looks at you, then Sheryl, then Daniel.

“I’m going to the washroom. Something movie stars do, by the way,” he says, looking to Sheryl.

“I’ve gotta wash up too,” You join him.

“And I’ll help,” Daniel says. Brandon walks off to the bathroom while Daniel pulls you aside.

“Did you plan this?” He accuses, arms folded and brown hair disheveled after he runs his hands through it.

“I had no idea!” You argue, stopping in your tracks.

“Yeah, right. You’re being a major bitch, you know that?” He sneers, a low tone and a tightness in his voice. You shake your head, arms crossed. Where the hell did this come from?

“I’m not doing this with you right now,” you dismiss. He grabs your arm, and you flinch, surprised.

“Hey, back off, man!” A voice comes from behind you, and he immediately releases your arm.

“Dylam, it’s fine. I can handle it.”

“Go sit down, Y/N/N,” Dylan warns. You hesitantly sit at the table and watch as they talk. But unfortunately, they’re too far away for you to hear.

“If you put another hand on her again, you won’t be making it back to Wisconsin, buddy.” He threatens, furrowed eyebrows. Both men storm back to the table, tension in the air.

“Oh, Dylan told me how he knows how to get us into this great club tonight,” Sheryl fawns.

“Great,” Brandon gives a lackluster smile.

-

Dylan pulls up his Porsche into the Walsh’s driveway as the engine hums. Brandon and Brenda plus Sheryl run out of the house. Sheryl stops dead in her tracks as she sees the speedster. You hop out of the passengers seat and walk onto the drive way, the heels of your shoes clicking.

“What a cool car!”

“Yeah, it’s alright,” He dismisses

“Can I get in?” She enthuses.

“Come on, Sheryl, we’ve gotta drop Brenda off,” Brandon calls out, sister at his side.

“Mind if I ride with Dylan?”

Brandon hesitates. “Sure, if that’s what you want.” What’s with her?

“I mean, when am I ever gonna get a chance to ride in a Porsche again?”

“Actually, Sheryl, Y/N was going to-” Dylan begins.

“I was just about to hop into Brandon’s car anyway,” You cut him off.

“Are you sure?”

“If it’s alright with Brandon,” You add.

“Yeah, it’s alright with me,” He nods.

“Brandon, could you possibly move a little slower?” Brenda pipes in, sarcasm lacing her tongue.

Brandon watches as Sheryl and Dylan drive off, an exasperated look on his face.

-

“Is it just me or is Sheryl acting a little weird today?” Brandon puts the car in park, his voice low.

“I don’t know. She seems the same to me… I thought you guys were having a good time?” Brenda replies.

“We are, we are. It’s just… she’s so into this whole Beverly Hills thing– The houses, the stores, the cars.”

“You mean like Dylan’s car?” You lean up from the backseat. How did you get stuck with the backseat again?

“Yeah. Kind of…” He sighs, “Didn’t she seem a little too enthusiastic about getting a ride from him tonight?”

“Well, take a look at the option,” Brenda smirks.

“Obviously she doesn’t like me for my car. Dylan didn’t seem too unhappy about the idea either,”

“Brandon, he’s your friend. Our friend. He wouldn’t hit on your girlfriend,” You try to ease his mind.

“I guess you’re right…but they’re just acting a little weird, that’s all,” He says. Brenda hops out of the car as soon as he stops, racing over to the front door.

It’s dead silent on the way to the club, your thoughts are churning out faster than you could process. You had so much you wanted to tell him, but nothing felt right. So, you blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.

“Did you sleep with her?”

“What?” Nice going, Y/N/N.

“…Did you sleep with her?” Can’t back out now, I guess.

“No… I didn’t. Your call really freaked me out last night, what was that even about, anyway?”

“Just trust me, okay?” You huff, “You having a virginity pact with Sheryl or whatever it was…wasn’t a good idea.”

“Look, it’s none of your business, alright?!”

“It’s my business when she’s sleeping with my boyfriend!”

His face drops and he falls silent, grip going lax on the steering wheel. You peek at his face, guilt suddenly dipping you apart. He laughs sourly, head shaking.

“I should’ve known.”

“You couldn’t have.”

“I knew that guy was no good. He treats you like garbage, he sleeps with you, he sleeps with Sheryl. Is nothing off limits to him?”

You don’t answer, deciding it’s best to let him simmer down. Besides, you were almost to the club and didn’t want to feel any worse than you did right now.

Boy, this was sure to be fun, huh?

-

You and Brandon march out of the car and over to the entrance of Contact, crowds of arguing people lined up at the front. You watch as Brandon goes to the other side of the rope, simply stepping over it. The guard goes to reprimand him, but starts to lose control of the line. You hop over the rope yourself when Brandon grabs your hand, racing both of you into the club. It’s a total sensory overload– Loud pop music, flashing lights, people drinking and dancing.

But you spot two people in the middle of the crowd. The girl’s arms around the guy’s neck as they sway to the pumping pop. You were going to kill Dylan… if Brandon didn’t get to him first. He bolts down the stairs, making his way over to his friends. You follow him hoping to stop him before he gets to them, but it’s too late as he speaks to Dylan with a loud, sharp “Hey.”

Well… that’s your cue to leave. You can’t stand to be in the middle of the Brandon/Dylan throwdown right now. You just need a drink. You’ll go over there if things turn bad. Ordering a few shots of whatever Patron was, you turn your back to the bar– looking to see any signs of a brawl, a murder, anything that could signal that things went south. The bartender hands you your shot glasses and you throw them back, a sharp burning in your throat. What you didn’t expect tonight was for alcohol to be so majorly disgusting. Wow. You’re never doing that again.

You watch the crowd groan and pause, while Sheryl runs out. Pushing your way into the dance floor you spot Dylan on the ground holding his face. Okay, maybe Brandon was the asshole tonight. Dylan rises to his feet, grabbing B by the shirt.

“You better figure out who your friends are,” He spits out. You bulldoze your way closer as Dylan pushes him away. Brandon storms over to Sheryl.

“What the hell is the matter with you?” You call out.

“What’s the matter with me? I think you’re talking to the wrong guy here, Y/N/N,” He replies, tone bitter.

“Why couldn’t you just leave Sheryl alone?! You could probably date any girl in school and you chose the one dating your best friend?!”

“I didn’t choose anything! She hit on me!”

“You weren’t exactly pushing her away!”

“Look… I don’t know what your problem is, but I have no interest in Brandon’s girlfriend!”

“My problem?! My problem–” You cut yourself off, take a deep breath and begin again, putting your hand up in front of yourself, “I don’t want to do this right now.”

“Y/N–”

You do a 180, ignoring him, walking over to the bar where your livid crush stands. You step next to him, hand resting on the bar in front of him.

“Brandon, get it together. Do you think I’m super happy about Sheryl and Daniel? Do you think I’m thrilled she’s managed to hit on every guy I know? No. But I’m not over there punching Dylan, or Sheryl, or anyone for that matter because things happen! Things that are out of my control. Dealing with these things is our only option if we expect to make it out of this alive,”

You take a breath, “I’m majorly bummed, my love life is a mess, and my boyfriend is on a flight back to Minneapolis. But you know what? I’m going to deal with it. And so are you. We’re going to take our issues head on, because we have no other choice. So you’re going to go talk things out with Sheryl, and I’m going to try to find a drink that doesn’t taste like vomit.”

“Y/N, I don’t think–”

“No, Walsh. Go. Talk,” You demand. Man, you’re bossy when you drink. You kinda like it.

You lock eyes and his gaze softens.

“Fine,” He sighs, “You’re right, I should to go talk to her.”

“I know I am,” You tease. “Now, go, before it’s too late.” He gently taps your hand that’s resting on the bar and kisses your head before walking off.

You sigh, beckoning the bartender over to order a fruity cocktail.

🎵

You’re lying down on a cold wooden bench outside of the Bel Age, your head spinning and your heart… confused. You meant to go up to Dylan’s room 20 minutes ago, before the insane dizziness kicked in and you had to sit down. Maybe 3 drinks was too much.

You slowly stand up, keeping your balance by holding onto the seat before you start to hobble into the hotel.

Stumbling over to room 201, you knock on the door. Again, and again, and again. You sit against the wall, giving up, You couldn’t go home like this. You’d be grounded for life. But you couldn’t leave, either. You spent all the cash in your purse on the taxi there. You sigh, exasperatedly. Clearly, this was the worst day of your entire life. Or at least you thought so at the moment. You hang your head, sitting there– weepy, inebriated, and alone. Until a voice comes from down the hall.

“What the hell are you doin’, Y/N/N?” Dylan saunters over, hands in the pockets of his jeans.

“You weren’t home,” you arm slings up, pointing to the door behind you. He slowly sits down next to you, resting his arms onto his knees.

“I live in 211…You’re at 201,”

You groan lightly, letting the back of your head hit the wall. He could smell the alcohol on you from a mile away. He looks at your glazed-over eyes and exhales.

“Brandon and Sheryl are in my room, talking. I don’t know what you said to him… but it worked,”

“Great,” you sigh. “Her being here as been so fun, can’t wait to see what’s next.” Dylan could sense the beginning of your drunk ramblings. “You know, when I told my friends I was moving they just…dropped me. Without a second thought. I didn’t have anyone… but I had Daniel,” He watches you carefully. “He was my constant… and then Sheryl gets here. Now I don’t have Daniel… or Brandon. I probably won’t even have you pretty soon and it’s–” you feel your eyes start to tear up, “it’s… scaring me a little, I guess.”

“You have me,” He’s soft when he speaks, yet stern, demanding. He looks at you, studying your features while you look at your feet. “And if you knew the things I knew, you’d know Brandon’s not going anywhere either… but you’ll always have me.”

“You don’t know that,”

“I do know that,”

“No, Dylan… You don’t,”

“Come on, just trust me here, okay?”

You sigh, pausing. “I should go home.” He brushes a loose hair behind your ear delicately.

“Stay… get some ice cream, hang out. Free room service,”

“Yeah, because last time I stayed here it went so well,” you bite back, half-joking.

“You can’t go home wasted, Y/N/N,” He shifts onto his feet, “Come on.” He holds out a hand, looking as deep into your eyes as you’ll let him. You sigh, grab it, and pull yourself up. Except, when you get up you trip over your feet and fall directly into Dylan. You mumble an apology as he catches you, one hand on your hip, the other on your back.

You look up at him when he looks down, noses bumping together. You stand like that for a moment, (mostly because you’re worried you can’t keep yourself up, to be honest.) You feel his breath, his hands. You can’t bring yourself to move, and neither can he. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was him but whatever it was was making your head spin.

The sound of an opening door spooks you and you break away as if you had been caught committing a crime, or doing something you knew you weren’t supposed to be.

“Yo Dylan!” Footsteps approach you both. “I’m gonna order in some ice cream, you should join.” You stepped behind Dylan, trying to avoid Brandon seeing you in your inebriated state.

“Be right in,” He nods. You hear the door click shut, and you sigh. He places a reassuring hand on your back, “You should come, sober up.”

You sigh in defeat, you knew one way or another you were going to end up in that hotel room.

“Yeah… alright,”

🎵

Three bowls. Three bowls of mint chip ice cream. Three bowls, copious bottles of water shoved down your throat by both Brandon and Dylan, and a little bit of healing along side it. Sheryl had left during bowl two, so now you’re laying down on the couch, your feet on Brandon’s lap. Dylan’s curled up in the rocking chair, all three of you overfed but feeling alright given the chaotic night.

“I really gotta motor,” You sit up, “I told my parents I’d be back by midnight.”

“I’ll drive you, there might not be many cabs this late,” Brandon offers.

“Alright.. I’ll meet you out front, Bran. I’m gonna talk to Dylan first, okay?” He gives you a soft “Alright,” before placing a kiss to your head and walking out.

“Thanks for… everything tonight. I really needed it,” You walk over to his chair and he stands up, meeting you at eye level.

“Hey, anytime. If you ever need a place to get sobered up again, you have me.”

You pull him into a long, comfortable, sleepy hug.

-

It’s a silent but peaceful ride home, both of you wading in the aftermath of the night. You place your hand down on the center console, your other hand brushing through your hair as you listen to the crickets outside. Brandon wordlessly sets his hand on top of yours, thumb rubbing the backside of your hand delicately, tenderly.

“How are you feeling?” He asks, breaking the comfortable silence for the first time that night. “I’m sorry about Daniel,” His face is lit up by the moonlight and the occasional streetlight. “And I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you these past few days.” He’s got a glint in his eye, sweet with a little bit of sorry. He looked at you like he looked at no one else. Sheryl saw it, Daniel saw it. Dylan saw it, too. Brandon had no idea he was doing it, and you? You were too busy avoiding his gaze, worried that you would get caught staring at him when he wasn’t looking.

“I get it, things have been pretty crazy with Sheryl and Daniel here…”

“Look, I care about you, Y/N. I don’t want you to think I’m leaving you out in the cold whenever Sheryl comes around,”

He slows down to your street, and you’re not sure what exactly clicks in your mind.. but something snaps.

Pulling into your driveway, he turns his head to look at you, about to continue his monologue. But you decide to be bold– and cut him off, crashing your lips against his in a brief, nervewracking kiss, heart leaping out of your chest. You break away momentarily, until he kisses you again. His hand reaches behind your jaw, pushing you as close to him as you can get. It’s a deep, long, passionate kiss, enough to leave both of you breathless afterwards. Something about kissing him felt so right, like you’ve done it a thousand times before when it reality you’ve only ever thought about it. When it ends, you rest your foreheads on each other’s, the two of you quietly panting, giddy smiles to match.

“Goodnight, Brandon,”

“Goodnight, Y/N,” a quick kiss to the forehead is given to you before you hop out of Mondale and over to your house to settle in for the night.

-

It’s about 11 in the morning, and you’re walking up to the backyard of the Walsh’s, as Brandon promised tons and tons of food on account of his mom going to the farmers market the day earlier and y'know, maybe you could hang out or something. Brenda and Cindy redirected you to the backyard, letting you see Brandon one more time before you gauged yourself with so much California produce you exploded. You stepped into the yard, seeing Brandon out back with Jim. You approach as Jim gives a classic midwestern family lecture.

“…My father told me that someday I’d meet a girl who’d break my heart and then I’d meet one who wouldn’t. I told him he was crazy cause I’d never let a girl do that to me… but it happened. Twice, maybe three times. And then I met your mom,”

“Dad, Sheryl didn’t break my heart,” Brandon’s back is to you as he responds.

“The point is, that you’re not gonna know who the heartbreaker is and who the special one is right off the bat. It’s all gonna take time,” Jim bounces the basketball a few times before handing it to his son. “Hi, Y/N.”

“Hi, Mr. Walsh,” You reach them, giving a friendly smile. There’s a noticeable shift in the air when Brandon sees you.

“I’ll give you guys some time alone,” He mumbles, jogging back into the house without another word.

“Hi,” He smiles, bashfully.

“Hi.”

-

-

-

Taglist: @be-patient-be-good @fangirl-imagines @bevelyhills90210 @blueoz @lilo-1988

[lovemesomesurveys]

S c h o o l Did you/do you like school? Looking back after a few years, I think I did overall. I wouldn’t have said that in the moment, though. I got very easily overwhelmed, stressed, and burnt out. Many tears were shed. A lot of anxiety was induced. I hated the presentations and taking exams. There were parts I did like, though. There were assignments, books, courses, teachers, and activities that I liked. The learning aspect of stuff that was of real interest to me was enjoyable.  What was/is the best thing about going to school? The worst? I listed the good and bad in my previous answer. All that being said, I do believe education is good and important.  What was/is your favourite subject? Least favourite? My favorite was always english and then psychology, obviously. That was my major. My least was always math. That was the absolute worst.  Who was/is your favourite teacher? Least favourite? My favorite in elementary and middle school (my school was a K-8th grade) was Mr. McGill. He was my 4th grade teacher, but he ended up being an 8th grade teacher later on and I was able to have him again. He was very funny and cool and made learning fun. He genuinely cared about his students. Everyone loved him. In high school it was my sophomore history teacher, Mr. Coffey. He reminded me so much of Rob Dyrdek from how he looked to how he acted. He was cool. He always jammed out to Red Hot Chili Peppers before class. In college I had a few awesome professors. College professors are usually pretty rad.

What did/do you do for break/recess? Recess I just hung out with my friends. I forget what we did, exactly. I couldn’t go on the playground (I’m in a wheelchair). I probably just watched them for awhile or something. I remember playing 4-square. Probably stuff like tag as well. I honestly don’t really remember what I did for recess in elementary school. In middle school we just hung out. *shrug* Oh, and had snacks cause most of us always brought chips or whatever to munch on before lunch. People were suddenly your best friend if you had Hot Cheetos haha. In school break was lunch and I just ate and hung out with friends mostly. In college if I was campus for a long time I usually ate between classes, studied, did some reading, got coffee, messed around on my phone and watched YouTube or Netflix or something.  Did you/do you do any after school activities? What? In 5th and 6th grade I was a Girl Scout. In middle school we had electives, but that was during school so I guess that doesn’t count. I think it was like toward the end of the school day, though. Oh, also my local community college offered some fun classes for kids during the summer and I did some of those. In high school I was in a couple clubs. I was VP for one of them. When I was at community college I was an active club and then board member of the psychology club. In university I didn’t do anything, ha. I went to my classes and went home.  Did you/do you take part in a club or sport at school? What? No sports, but yeah the club stuff I just listed. ^^^  What age did you start school? Like 3 in preschool. If you've left school do you wish you were still there? Nope! haha. I served my time as I say. I’m doneeee. S l a n d e r Do you take things people say at face value? Not always. Depends what they’re telling me, obviously. If someone was like, “there’s a huge meteor crashing to earth tomorrow” I’m gonna look into that lol. What is the worst rumour that has been spread about you? There weren’t any. Not that I ever knew of, anyway. I wasn’t relevant. Can you honestly say you never act two faced? No. I think we’ve all been fake in some way or another at some time or another. Some people are just fake people, though. Like that’s just who they are as a person, ya know? I’m not one of those people, but I can’t say that I’ve never been before.  Do you get talked about behind your back often [someone tells you]? I’m sure my former friends have talked a lot of shit about me over the past few years and rightfully so. I wouldn’t blame them at all. Now I’m probably not even on their radar anymore and they probably just don’t give a shit, which I also wouldn’t blame them for. Apart from that, I mean I’m sure people have said stuff about me behind my back and I’ve been told things before. For the most part; though, I really feel like I was always pretty insignificant and not even on most people’s radar. Do you believe everyone is somewhat of a gossip? Yeah, pretty much. Some are just make it their life; though, and live for the gossip and drama. Don't you think those who insult others and their lives just seriously need to get a life of their own? I don’t understand the obsession some people have for people they claim to dislike or hate. Like, why are they so invested and give any of their time to someone they don’t like? It makes NO sense. I see that so much on the internet. I watch YouTubers and there will be so many haters who just have to get their fix and watch the video and talk shit about the person. They just have to leave that comment and make it known. I’m just like, WHY. I don’t waste my time watching or following up on someone I don’t like. I don’t feel the need to leave a rude comment. It’s real easy to just X out the video and find something else. Why waste your time??? I’ve just really been seeing that a lot lately especially on YouTube. Same with celebrities. There’s some I’m not a fan of or don’t particularly care for, but I have the need to go tweet and tell them that I don’t like them or talk shit in their comments. Make comments to yourself or to someone privately, but you don’t need to make it known to the person. I just move along with your life. That goes for anyone. We all talk shit sometimes, don’t act like you never do, but you don’t need to insult people to their face. S p o r t s Do you like sports in general? Nope. Do you prefer field sports, team sports or other? I prefer no sports. Do you run/jog regularly? Nope. Do you like/enjoy swimming? What's your usual stroke? Nope. What sport do you like to watch but not to play? None. What sport do you like to play but not to watch? None. Who is your favourite sportsman/woman? What sport do they play? I don't have one. Are you sporty, average or hate sports? Sports are just not my thing, man.  R a p Do you like rap music? Yeah. Whose your favourite rap artist? Why? I have several. I’m probably most into Post Malone these days. I like Drake, too. There’s also the newer genre, emo rap, that I’m into as well. That includes like Juice WRLD and Travis Scott. Thennn there’s like rap rock. Linkin Park, one of my top favorite bands, fall under that category. Whose your least favourite rap artist? Why? Hmm. Name me a few rap songs that you like? I don’t wanna.  Name me a few rap songs you dislike? I don’t wanna. Is rap one of your top 3 genres of music? I don’t know, man. I just like variety. Eminen or Dr. Dre? Eminem.  Dizzy Rascal or Will.i.am? I don’t think I’ve heard of Dizzy Rascal.  D12 or Bone Thugs n Harmony? I liked a couple songs by D12. Haven’t listened to them in a long time, though. R e a d i n g Do you like reading? I love to read. What's your favourite book? Whose your favourite author? I can’t choose a favorite. I just can’t. I’ve been reading a longgggg time and have read a lottttttt of books. I have too many favorites. Fiction or Non Fiction? I like fiction better.  Sci-Fi or Historical Novel? Hm. Probably sci-fi out of the two. Fantasy or Horror? Horror. Romance or War Novel? Romance. Do you prefer films or books? I enjoy both. How many books do you think you own? Quite a lot, but not as much as I used to. I’ve been reading a lot of ebooks for the past several years, so I have a lot of those. I have a lot saved in my Kindle app. What books have you read that made you sad? I’ve read countless number of sad books. What books have you read that frightened you? I read a lot of mystery and psychological thriller, so. What books have you read that were terrible? The only ones I’m embarrassed to admit I’ve read are the Fifty Shades of Gray series. :X What books have you read that left you wanting more? So many. I get really into a book and the characters. I love a series.  R e l i g i o n Do you believe in God? Yes. Do you believe in multiple Gods/Goddesses? No. What is your religion called? Christian. Do you believe in Angels and Demons? Yes. Do you believe in Heaven and Hell? Yes. Do you believe in The Devil? Yes. Not like how he’s portrayed in movies and such, like the red dude with a pitchfork, but yes.  What rule/ideal in your religion do you think is the most important? The 10 Commandments.  What, to you, is the difference between spirituality and religion? Religion consists of practices, beliefs, and a relationship with God. Spirituality is more within yourself.  Q u e s t i o n s O f O d d n e s s Do you like tandoori chicken? Never had it. I don’t even know what that is. Can you hear a man's voice right now? On the TV. What nations tea is the best? I don't know. Can you remember what you were doing at 12.30pm yesterday? Sleeping. Does the colour purple make you feel a particular emotion? No. What age are you going to be in 2020? I’m turning 31 this year. D: What colour are your siblings eyes? Brown. Do you more often get a sore throat, cough or sneeze? Sore throat or cough. Do you get more headaches, earaches, toothaches or sore eyes? Headaches and sore eyes. Do you usually wear plain coloured clothes or dual/multi coloured? I wear a lot of black, but it has stuff on it it’s not just a plain black shirt. How far away is the nearest take away place from your house? Like a 2 minute drive. Do you think sarcasm is a good tool or just annoying? It can be annoying when done excessively. It can just be rude sometimes. I have my sarcastic moments, though.  What photos do you have on your phone? Saved photos of stuff I found online, my doggo, some of me, just various things. What's the model of your phone? iPhone XR. Do you drink hot honey and lemon when ill? Nope. My younger brother swears by that kind of stuff when he’s sick. What word would sum up today? It’s only 6 in the morning. I need to go to bed omg. This week? Uh, itt’s just starting. This month? Meh. This year? Way too soon to say. Favourite type of muffin? Banana without the nut and blueberry. Streusel on top makes them even better.

[longeyelashedtragedy]

this has been the most wild fuckin year so let’s do a Year in Review shall we

in terms of internet and fandom life, that is. my real life has been atrociously boring but who cares about real life amirite folx

january probably the only calm month of the year.  i spent the first day of the month watching the brazilian inauguration in burgos, spain with one headphone in, while ordering for my family in a restaurant where nobody spoke english (my sister speaks decent spanish, but my whole family has like 8194814 food restrictions so it kind of went past her level of ability). translating between spanish and english with portuguese in one year was kind of awesome. i watched bodyguard and it was amazing!  what else...in january i briefly owned the issue of spanish GQ with Luka on the cover which i then forgot about until november. other than that...? nada.  the calm before the storm. (fav music)

february was so long ago that i keep forgetting how insane its 28 days were.  probably the wildest month of the year really. i got involved in an absolutely batshit and exclusive group chat with a famous person’s family member (which must remain confidential). it was all sunshine and rainbows for a week and a half and it then devolved into the most absolutely insane Lord of the Flies situation ever--it turned into 1 main chat and then 1 chat that was less puritanical than the main chat, and that chat spawned another chat that didn’t trust the previous chat, and then that chat had a massive argument and a like 6-person bitchy chat modded by a gay guy who does voodoo (shoutout to ALCIDES) spawned from that one.  i made it into every level of group chat and was asked by the tiny bitchy chat to spy on the other bitchy chat (i did not lol). i was a member of the tiny bitchy chat until i got a new phone and was logged out of whatsapp for like a month.  these words can’t even convey what this chat was like--oh and did i mention it was all conducted in only my 3rd-best language? it’s no wonder my weird ass survived middle school almost entirely unscathed.  as this was winding down, on the very last day of the month, I found out about Justin’s involvement in the SNC-Lavalin scandal and decided to go public about my years-long boner for him; Lavscam definitely changed the course of the rest year ~ Oh, also i began helping to repair a friendship that had had some Drama go down so that was p cool ~ (fav music)

march was a Time. The insanity of lavscam helped me finally finish the macdeau I started writing the previous December when a bunch of tungelr people called me disgusting for writing it.  i wrote my first straight-up serious explicit porn in years which has wound up being the third-longest thing i’ve ever published on ao3. Also, Hozier released Wasteland, Baby! which made a huge impact on me as well.  i spent like half of march staying up till 3:30 am writing said Long Fic, and i was firmly in the closet about stanning manu. also justin almost got a vote of no confidence or something and he got busted for eating a chocolate bar during a parliamentary all-nighter.  (fav music)

in april i wrote a ton of fanfic thanks to declining mental health(tm).  i think this is when i started my emmanuyell insta account and became really into making weird edits (which i still love doing just...don’t anymore.)  i started meeting some cool people thanks to macdeau.  what else happened in april? i feel like it wasn’t actually too eventful other than writing a lot of fanfic and being Annoyed about manu.  feel free to jog my memory lol.  oh i think i wrote “Okay so who from the French national team are we gonna ship Manu with” on twitter after seeing photos of manu + antoine griezmann at the World Cup but nothing came of that...at that time... (fav music)

may saw me having to deal with my shit mental health and up my meds but that seems to have had a good effect because i seem to not be too depressed to write in the winter/fall anymore! it was the 2nd anniversary of manu’s election and at the Christchurch Call in paris, macdeau took that amazing fairytale princess photo together that was completely unrivalled in Gay Shippy Feels moments until ivan went out of his way to kiss luka during the el clásico gameplay last wednesday. someone wrote ao3′s first griezmanu drabble and at the end manu gets down on his knees in front of antoine, takes off his shoes for him, and sucks his dick, and i achieved another state of being entirely.  my sister graduated from grad school and when we went down to DC for the weekend i went to eat at this restaurant manu famously ate at while there and ordered the same stuff he did and i have no idea how he consumed all that grease.  i learned about the song O Come, O Come, Emmanuel *snort*. i feel like other things happened in may too?  OH YES--i got the idea for my magnum opus, Trophy Boyfriend, and started to write it. the first scene i wrote was justin blowing manu in the hallway. then the same day i wrote the scene at the airport (which was the ending for a solid month and half till i realized it shouldn’t be), and the saddest scene in the fic--but we’ll stop to open presents.  oh! and i stumbled across the macronists discord chat which is such a delightful little community *weepy sniffles* (fav music)

june was Eventful.  a french neonazi on tumblr told me to go let manu fuck me in the ass because i was a fucking degenerate.  what a start!  then came the ceremony in which manu awarded everyone on the french national team the legion of honor medal and the way he and antoine looked at each other was truly...Wait it was the 3rd Gay Shippy Feels moment of the year.  as soon as the ceremony was over i wrote a fic about it and haven’t looked back.  between this + watching almost every 2018 World Cup game and the women’s world cup (during which I cried during argentina’s last game because of that miraculous penalty) i finally achieved my years-long goal of getting into Futbol(TM).  Antoine dropped his spotify playlist and my crush on him turned into Intense Love (TM) and also he introduced me to some legit awesome artists.  which led to (fav music)

july, in which i wrote “ça c’est ma dope” which is definitely the best thing i’ve written since i wrote “modernity towering in front of the sky” almost exactly 10 years before. got embroiled in Soccer Transfer Drama and learned its pain for the first time (unfortunately, since i wound up attaching my heart-wagon to barça’s Suddenly Least Favorite Player, the transfer drama pain has...never ended) became a full-fledged culé, O the joy O the honor.  i wanted to ship antoine with someone on the team, which in their current chemistry-less season is a real challenge, but after seeing a few photos i decided it would be fun to casually ship antoine + ivan rakitic (partially because, ever since i went from Enemies to Lovers with the croatia NT during the World Cup, he was one of the only players i knew anything about other than messi, suárez, and piqué lmao). while looking on ao3 to see what kind of headcanons people had about him--and the fic is definitely in general better than what’s out there about antoine, which is perplexing because antoine is much easier to write than ivan--i found That Amazing Rakidric Fic and thought “oh wait that ship makes a lot of sense” and started also shipping ivan and luka with the fire of a thousand suns.  oh and my air conditioner was broken for like 3 weeks. i worked on more fics, seriously outlining the path of Trophy Boyfriend, and my music taste was killer. (fav music)

in august i finished Trophy Boyfriend in my neighborhood Starbucks after writing the scene that was giving me the most trouble (the scene at the beginning where they’re organizing their book collection). the fic has made multiple people cry and people disagree on whether justin’s choice at the end was the right one and god i’m so proud of it.  Instantly went on to write ‘i might not mind,’ a lively lighthearted Friends to Lovers ivantoine~ romp which was definitely going to be a one-off and i was definitely not going to get an extra celeb crush out of it,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, (fav music)

in september ivantoine became A Thing in my mind and it’s a whole ongoing slow-burn character-arcy series that has taken a very different turn than i had expected. i’m not saying it’s like, the most deep writing of all time, but it’s gone to some interesting places emotionally. honestly, ships and boners aside, the concept of a person who made some really stupid homophobia 101 comments many years ago slowly realizing over and over again that they have gay feelings for a man who seems rather comfortable with gayness is a fascinating one and one that’s really cool to explore in writing.  Or at least, i think so.  in many ways ivan is my most unreliable narrator because of the many layers of Discomfort, Emotion and Repression at play in the fic while he’s interacting with this pretty cheery and uncomplicated seeming-dude who’s still perceptive enough to sort of know what’s going on (and that’s not even adding in the star player/falling from grace former rockstar dynamic!!!)  i know in the current climate it’s Not Allowed to write about someone who said a bad, but luckily i’m too old to give a Fuck. ivantoine is hard to write but it’s my bff’s favorite ship of mine and has a few other excited fans on ao3 which tbh is kind of an accomplishment considering i made it up out of thin air and it’s not something you’d ever think would be a thing. instantly also developed ‘getting called out about ivan by a child on the internet’ as a goal.  and...i achieved my dream of leading high holiday services!!! (fav music)

october had more high holiday services and i worked a lot on certain fics (including d*janfic which would be fun to finish). i came up with the idea of a Very Long Rakidric Fic based on the translation of a gorgeous croatian folk song i sang in college (Janko fell asleep under the poplar/My dear and beloved/My beautiful dark eyes/Look at me/Under the poplar's golden branch/My dear and beloved/My beautiful dark eyes/Look at me/I tore off the golden branch/My dear and beloved/My beautiful dark eyes/Look at me--in which the golden branch is a reference to a way to get into the underworld). decided to start quarter-assedly learning croatian for fun.  Fun...ha.  other than fangirling a lot and watching the croatian NT play, october was pretty uneventful? i think? Justin got reelected and mauricio didn’t ;( (fav music)

in november i finally achieved my dream of having a literal child on the internet call me out about being attracted to a homophobe.  (they were a madridista even!) accidentally started writing some more rakidric and now i’m seriously hooked.  also accidentally came out of the closet about the secret crush i’d been harboring on luka modric and then one fateful day in the ihop on 14th st i realized i’d had this crush already and repressed it from my memory. Don’t do that kids! now it’s Hurting Really Bad. Ivan dropped the most pathetic and candid interview like...ever and i hope “¿Cómo puede disfrutar uno? Jugando al fútbol. ¿Cómo se siente mi hija pequeña cuando le quitan un juguete? Triste. Yo me siento igual. Me han quitado la pelota, me siento triste” goes down in the history of most epic futbol quotes of all time.  (still haven’t actually been able to watch this because no one has uploaded it anywhere)  What else...............Am i forgetting anything? i celebrated my birthday with @tender-vittles in epic fashion after two years of Not doing that, and turned 32 going on 15.  enjoyed my first-ever “x reader” fic (zlatko dalic x reader LOL) and finished “drive your plow over the bones of the dead” which was real fucking good. i saw hozier live and it was a religious experience and i unexpectedly cried during nina cried power and then called myself “Luka B” when ordering at the classy taco bell across the street after getting a glimpse of alexxx ryan in the flesh. (fav music)

now it’s december and my seasonal depression is a little worse than it’s been the past few years but i’m managing.  still shipping and writing and i just got called out about ivan again last week.  i’m 2 for 2 here!  el clásico was boring but also it was gay and my heart my heart my heart ! Anything could happen in the last 10 days of this year and honestly...I’m pretty sure I’m ready.

Most importantly this year, despite it being not that great in a lot of ways, I developed a lot more self confidence, made many important realizations, and became a lot more peaceful (despite how this post makes me sound) and wiser and less bitter and pessimistic.  And i became outspoken enough about antisemitism on the left to lose friends over it...3 for 3.  i can’t say i’m displeased with these developments.

Hasta 2020! <3

[kamino-ink]

A Mess of Stress | Seo Changbin

✧ Genre: Soulmate!au, really cute you gUYS, minor angst

✧ Summary: Changbin has always been your best friend; he’s there to comfort you when you’re upset, to hold you close when you’re scared, and hug you tightly when you’re happy - but, he’s constantly pushing away his own problems in doing so. You’re determined to help him open up.

✧ Word Count: 2.8k

✧ Want to read other parts of this series? Check out my masterlist!

                                         ✧

 Having an emotion based connection to your soulmate was positively exhausting, to say the least. You could sense their emotions and they could sense yours; there wasn’t a real way to identify who that other half of you was, physically. All you could hope for was the very, very slim chance that somehow you would be around said soulmate during a period of intense emotional pressure, such as overwhelming happiness after spotting an absolutely adorable dog across the street, or even waves of fear while watching a spectacular horror film.

 In terms of your soulmate and how they felt bearing your emotions, you more or less felt really bad for the poor sap. You were prone to having some intense mood swings, mostly because you were rather sensitive to the world around you. When you watched dramas, you usually went from a warm ball of joy to a feeling of so much sadness that, if it was possible, your ears would droop downwards like an upset puppy. Or, for another example, you would be skipping down the sidewalk alongside your group of friends when you spot some ignorant asshole carelessly throwing a bundle of trash onto the grass - which would have you bubbling over in anger that was often expressed by you grabbing the trash and tossing it into the nearest bin since someone clearly couldn't do it on their own.

 “Holy shit, I am going to implode before I get this study guide done!” You whined loudly in the midst of your bedroom, your grip on your pen tightening while you rested your cheek onto the stack of papers on top of your desk.

 “And why is that, Y/N?”

 “Because my soulmate is always feeling so fucking stressed out, and since I’m stressed out already it really isn’t helping.”

 “Ah, I got you.” The man sprawled out on your comforter hummed after your exasperated explanation, meeting your dead gaze with a quirked eyebrow. “So are you like, pissed at them or what?”

 You huff quietly, lifting your head again just to bury your cold cheeks into the palms of your hands while you propped your elbows onto the desk. “No, I mean I get it, you know? But it worries me how often they’re so stressed out, Binnie.” Another sigh escapes your lips. “I’m worried about their home life or whatever, you know? What if they’re stuck in a shitty family situation and I can’t help them? Or - what if they’re all alone studying their ass off for some huge exam? Oh god, what if they’re like the CEO of a company and that’s why they’re so stress-”

 “Calm down, Gyu. I doubt they’re so important that they’re the CEO of some high and mighty company,” Changbin murmured, sitting up on your bed to hold his arms out encouragingly, watching as you let out another disgruntled noise and walk over to your bed, flopping down onto the messy blankets and sheets right into his arms, “everyone gets stressed out, you’ll just have to deal with it for a while.”

 “I still don’t understand why you gave me the same nickname as your stuffed Munchlax.”

 “Is that seriously the only thing you got out of what I just said?”

 “No, Binnie - I just... whoever my soulmate is, they’re really important to me. I just want them to relax and be happy, wherever they are in the world.” You admit softly, nearly letting out a purr as the man starts to slowly run his fingers through your hair, his other hand coming to rest underneath your head and readjust it so your head was resting peacefully on his lap.

 “Mhm. Well, I’m sure that the lucky bastard is happy as can be, even if you can’t feel it over their stress.” He reassured you calmly, smiling to himself as you visibly start to relax under his touch and curl up even closer to him.

 “H-hey, don’t call my soulmate a bastard, asshole.”

 “Alright, whatever you say, Gyu.”

 You really wanted to know what Changbin’s soulmate bond was. The secretive man had yet to even speak a word of it for however many years the two of you had been friends, and it seemed as if none of your other mutual friends could exactly pinpoint what his connection was either. Both you and Felix, arguably the two closest people in the world with Changbin himself, were dead set on figuring it out.

 Felix had met his soulmate a couple of weeks ago, and now the only people left in your close-knit trio to find their respective soulmates were, of course, you and Changbin. Though, as time went by, you found yourself feeling like you’d be alone forever. A connection through just emotion wasn’t enough to go off of, especially compared to a bond similar to say, Felix and his soulmate; they could essentially “see” through the other person’s eyes if they concentrated hard enough, which was how Felix was able to hunt them down after so long.

 The cherry on top was the fact that your soulmate was still overwhelmed with crushing stress. While it was clear that they were at least trying to compensate for the distress that weaved its way into your head, it wasn’t enough - you were starting to crumble under emotions that didn’t even belong to you. On occasion, your other half would have snippets of joy or warmth that flooded your senses, but they would rarely last more than maybe two minutes before the stress started to eat at their brain - and yours, too.

 But that was one of the least of your concerns at the moment, because for now, you were trying to distract yourself by prying into Changbin’s head.

 “Binnie, why can't any of us know what your connection is?” The question is innocent enough in all honesty, your lips curled into a soft pout of confusion as you utter the words to the man you called your best friend sat next to you in the middle of class.

 Music theory was interesting, but it wasn’t really your top choice in electives for the new semester; but then the black haired man had sent you a defeated frown when he noticed you didn't share any classes with each other. So, naturally, as one does, you sacrificed a random elective in creative writing so you could be with him for some portion of the school day.

 Changbin spared you a quick glance before turning back to his notes, scribbling messily on his notebook and occasionally going to jot something down in the little notepad he carried with him everywhere. “I just, don’t care about the idea of having my friends potentially invading my privacy and my soulmate’s, okay?” He utters gruffly, but it isn't enough to satisfy you.

 While you definitely weren't looking to agitate him or push his buttons, you still had so many questions.

 “Alright, that’s understandable - but can I at least get a hint?”

 “No.”

 “Do you know if they're a boy or a girl? I bet that they’re awesome either way, maybe we could all be friends!”

 “Uh huh...”

 “Oh, I wonder if they live close by - wouldn’t it be cool to take a trip somewhere new, just to meet them in person-”

 “Can you shut the fuck up, please?” Changbin finally snapped, albeit not causing a scene in the middle of the lecture - his voice came out sharp and gruff, still enough to startle you. “Stop trying to get me to open up, it’s annoying as fuck Y/N.”

 “I-” You stutter on your next choice words, feeling your cheeks heat up in embarrassment because somehow, you had managed to piss of your best friend. “I’m sorry, Changbin.”

 “Yeah, whatever. Apology accepted, Gyu.” He mutters, not even looking at you as he goes to write something else in his hidden notepad.

 Usually the nickname would make you feel warm and bubbly, but all you could think of was how you had pushed your friend too far. So you nodded silently before turning back to your side of the shared desk, letting your hair move to the side of your face so that he couldn't see the flush of your cheeks, or the guilt ridden flash in your eyes.

 You felt like shit, and you were positive that your soulmate felt the same way - or not, who knows, since the person was as stressed as ever, even more so than before if that was even possible.

 Your emotions were an unhealthy mix of guilt, stress, and sadness; ever since you had caused the patient Changbin to snap at you in the middle of Music Theory last week, you’d tried to keep your talking to him at a minimum; at least in terms of soulmates. Not a word of your struggles regarding keeping up with your soulmate’s drowning emotions seeped out between your lips the entire week, and you had completely stopped asking Changbin about his bond.

 “Ugh, I hate this!” You groaned into your pillow, holding the fluffy material against your face for a few more moments before tossing it aside onto the bed, a soft sigh echoing in your otherwise silent bedroom.

 Tomorrow was the day of the campus dance - it usually went on in the start of October, since most of the student body wouldn’t be at the school during the small break they got between Halloween and the first days of November. You’d been hoping for Changbin to bring it up at some point, but he’d simply brushed it off whenever it was mentioned. With another inevitable sigh, you lean over and grab your phone from your nightstand, bringing it up to your face and flinching at the initial flash of brightness from unlocking it.

 ‘Are you going to the dance tomorrow, Binnie?’

 Almost immediately you got a response, though it wasn’t the one you wanted.

 ‘No way, I’m swamped with work and shit the next couple of days. You’re not going, are you?’

 You’re contemplating on replying because you really, really wanted to go to the dance; tons of high schoolers tended to be let in since they were friends or relatives with the upperclassmen, albeit mostly college freshman, and you already knew that Felix and his friends would be going. It was rare for all of you to actually get together and goof around as a group, so you figured it was reasonable enough why you wanted to go.

 A notification pops up on the top of your screen, and you barely catch the contact name before it disappears.

 Why was Woojin texting you so late at night?

 ‘Hey kiddo, this is super sudden and probably late notice, but I was wondering if you wanted to go to the dance with me tomorrow? We haven’t gotten to talk in a hot minute since we’ve both been busy :D’

 ‘Actually I was just in the middle of debating on whether to go alone or not - let’s do it!’

 ‘Oh shit I didn't actually think you'd be going alone, but hey I guess that’s more us time then! Can I pick you up at eight? We can get dinner before or after if you want~’

 ‘By dinner you mean two buckets of KFC, honeybear, let’s be real with ourselves lmao. Eight is cool, and I’m down to eat whenever you want!’

 ‘That’s perfect, I’ll see you tomorrow then!! Get some sleep too, I know you still have an early class tomorrow’

 ‘Shut it, old man’

 You let out a chuckle as you reply to the older student, quickly going back to message Changbin about your plans for tomorrow night.

 ‘Good news~ Woojinnie asked me if I could go with him to the dance!! If you have a chance, you should drop by so all of us can hang out’ [read, 11:57 pm]

 “So, why couldn't Changbin come out tonight?” Chan asks you curiously, taking another swig of his beer that Minho had snuck into the dance, much to Woojin’s annoyance.

 You nibble on your bottom lip, readjusting the jacket Woojin had lent you a while ago since you'd gotten a bit chilly, just wearing a flattering top and pants. “He said that he’s being swamped with homework, but just the other day he told me he was free to go tonight.” You end up admitting to the three men, making Minho cock and eyebrow in burning curiosity.

 “I mean, I heard some of the other music teachers were assholes and assigned some papers the other day. That’s why my date couldn't come tonight, poor thing.” He hummed with a shrug.

 “You would've ditched the poor girl just so you could take shots out here, Minho.” You deadpan, giggling as he pouts and glares at Chan and Woojin who silently nod in agreement.

 “Hey, it looks like it’s about to rain,” Woojin murmurs nonchalantly, looking up to the darkening sky now riddled with icky gray rainclouds, with a sudden boom of thunder being more than enough to convince you all that his prediction was right, “lets head to the car, yeah? We can go get some food and head back to my place for the night since you idiots came here alone and drank without a designated driver.” The elder man scolded the other two playfully, smacking the backs of their heads as he started to head to the parking lot.

 “I’ll text Felix real quick and tell them to meet up with us at your house in a few.” You tell the trio as they start to walk to the car quickly, all of you feeling the first few droplets of rain.

 Since the sprinkles of rain didn’t exactly bother you, you take out your phone and send the message to the younger boy, only when you go to stuff it in your pocket the rain has turned into a full on downpour - soaking you within seconds.

 You try, and fail, to cover your exposed top half with your arms to act like a shield. It was not your week, clearly.

 Suddenly though, the rain has stopped pelting down onto your body. You look over, only to widen your eyes in shock.

 “I knew you wouldn’t look at the weather, Y/N,” Changbin mumbles softly, reaching out a hand to latch onto one of your arms and pull you closer to him under his umbrella, “not bringing an umbrella or a raincoat for you? Tsk, I guess Woojin couldn't be bothered to check the forecast either, then.”

 “W-what... what are you even doing here, Binnie?” You question him in surprise, glad that the darkness of the night and the bellowing storm was enough to hide your pink cheeks.

 The man stayed silent for a second, only to subconsciously tug you even closer to his body, leaving you quite literally pressed against his chest. “I felt like shit for ditching you. I didn't have any schoolwork, I was focused on something else entirely and was so fucking stressed about it-” he broke off to clear his throat and raise his voice so that you could hear him over the growing storm, “I also wanted to apologize for causing you so much stress over the past couple of weeks, er, months.”

 No way.

 “I - Changbin, that doesn’t make sense,” you breathed out airily, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion and wonder, “you don’t make me feel stressed, ever. It’s my soulmate who - oh my god.”

 “Took you a second, huh?” He chuckled, leaning down just enough so his forehead was gently pressed against yours.

 “But how - how did you know? Why wouldn't you tell me, Binnie?” You ask him quickly, your words a rush as you start to ramble in a state of astonishment.

 “Whenever you get excited over the stupidest things, like finding extra change in your pocket or seeing a dog across the street, I feel your happiness. When you sob like a damn baby over those shitty dramas, I feel your sadness and agitation. I’ve always been able to easily feel every emotion you’ve ever felt.” He explains, slowly inching closer and closer down your temple so that the tips of your cold noses were pressed against one another. “I didn't say anything for so long because I didn't think either of us were ready. I mean, we were still kids just a year ago, technically,”

 “I didn't want to move too fast... but then the younger kids started meeting their soulmates, and they’re all happy and content. So... here I am?” He breathes out, his soft, warm breaths fanning out onto your parted lips, now just an inch or two away.

 Without wasting another moment thinking everything over, you cup the man’s cheeks in your hands and bring him down just enough so you can kiss him, tasting his sweet lips with a slow, caring pace. He nearly drops the umbrella in surprise, but catches it and manages to keep it over your heads as he slowly kisses you back, still using his other hand to hold you to his chest.

 You both pull away at the same time, blushing furiously on both ends.

 “... we’re about to go grab some KFC and crash at Woojin’s, you wanna come with?”

 “Of course I do, Gyu.”

                                         ✧

[sarinataylor]

Rushing to ask about your French philosophy AU SO FAST spill the tea or rather it being French spill the coffee and house red

oh thank GOD

right ok first off read this

so. roger has just moved into a new flat. for context he is a FRAZZLED masters student. it’s first semester and he’s ta-ing like. three classes as well? he wants to DIE. he’s doing a masters in philosophy because.... of course he is, he knows, he hates himself too. but he fucking fell in love with philosophy in undergrad and his supervisor has been grooming him since his first year and now. here he is. seriously considering a phd. 

anyway so sometimes? sometimes philosophy just makes More Sense when you’re tripping okay, it just does. if you take notes? sometimes u wake up the next morning and realise you have New Insights that haven’t already been dissected to pieces

(his undergrad thesis was 1000000% written high like. almost all of it. he got a first. by a large margin. he’s still salty that the same technique doesn’t work with biology but whatever)

ANYWAY so he’s just chillin. tripping. and then he starts to get a lil para because this is a New Enclosed Space so he’s like right shit fuck i gotta leave im gonna go to the park all is good

anyway as he leaves his neighbour is letting himself into his flat and said neighbour (john) is like “oh, hi! i’m john. you must be the new move in!”

(john is working on social interaction with his therapist at the moment. she told him that he has to introduce himself to people and that waiting for people to introduce themselves while he gives off big Do Not Fuck With Me vibes is not conducive to the creating of lasting relationships. he’s trying.)

and roger who is tripping balls responds in french, because of course he does

and john? sweet john is like. oh oh i’m sorry i don’t speak french

so roger mumbles something vaguely french sounding under his breath and makes a run for it

and anyway he hangs out at the park, writes some insightful notes about philosophy in his notes on his phone and then heads back home where OF COURSE john is leaving his apartment again and greets him with a shy ‘bonjour’ to which roger replies with ‘au revoire’ and locks himself back into his apartment because he’s a high idiot

anyway the next morning roger is like. oh fuck. im a moron. 

and he has two options. firstly: he can come clean to his nice seeming neighbour, laugh off that no he’s actually not french he was just... off his nut. or secondly: he can pretend to be french 

and roger is a fucking idiot because he decides to go with the second option. it’s not as if he’s going to be running into this guy often, after all! they’re neighbours not roommates

except. john has been told by his therapist to be more outgoing. and instead of, idk, joining a club or a sportsteam to meet new people he has decided that the french guy next door is the Perfect Candidate. he is a) not going to understand half the shit john says and b) hot as fuck

so. john signs up for french classes. because, of course he does.

and he keeps???? running into roger???? and it’s fine at first because roger knows a bit of french? like he can read it passably but he can’t converse in it. his supervisor has been trying to get him to learn french for YEARS and he’s been refusing but he knows enough/can bullshit enough for the first couple of months but then he realises, to his horror, that john seems..... to be? getting better at french. he’s clearly actually learning french

and so roger. has to learn french. it’s been three months, it’s much too late for him to. come clean now, especially now that he has the world’s biggest fucking crush on this dude like. this is clearly the only option

(his tutor is dominique. she is living for the drama.)

and so the next like. 8 months? are just the two of them. learning french. john is learning french to converse with roger who is learning french at a slightly faster pace so that john doesnt realise he doesn’t know french while also pretending to slowly learn english to keep up the facade 

it all unravels almost a year to the day it began

john enrolls in an intro to philosophy class? as an elective? and who happens to be leading his tutorial class but roger?

(”roger” is, of course, pronounced fucking horrifically because roger just..... said his name with a fucking awful french accent that first time he said hi to john in the hallway and it stuck. he couldnt undo it. it’s..... it’s so bad.)

and roger, seeing john walk in, is like. oh fuck. like. again he has two options? he can a) just. out himself and speak in english or b) teach the entire class, of english speaking students, in french

he chooses the latter. 

he gets about five minutes in until a student he’s had in the past asks why the fuck he’s speaking french in a class about greek classical philosophy

john is clearly starting to catch on so roger has to give up the ghost

“and THAT is why you should all learn french. the french philosophical school is really so important--”

john just straight up opens his laptop, unenrolls, and walks out because... he feels like an idiot? this guy has clearly just been taking the piss out of him this whole time, probably laughing it up with his friends about how stupid he is. and it’s worse for the amount of effort john put in, like. it’s horrible and unfair, and he can’t believe that he ever thought someone like that would ever be interested in him in the first place, even just as a friend. he’s so stupid

and roger is freaking out because fuck fuck fuck fuck he really fucking likes john and he’s an idiot 

(john’s therapist is mostly just confused at this point like. it seems unlikely that someone would have put in the time and effort to prank him in this elaborate manner but john’s like NOPE THIS IS PROOF THAT EVERYONE HATES ME ON SIGHT I CAN NEVER INTERACT WITH ANYONE AGAIN)

and so. john avoids the HELL out of roger who after a couple of weeks of trying to catch him just. gives up? bc yeah, he wouldn’t wanna talk to him either he’s clearly a weirdo. he doesn’t wanna be a stalking weirdo too.

anyway one day john opens his door to find some random (freddie) passed out on roger’s doorstep? bc roger went out the night before, as did freddie, but they did not coordinate their nights out and as such have ended up closer to one another’s apartments and decided to crash with one another except. neither is home. 

and freddie wakes up when john opens his door, sees him, and screeches

and john’s like. ok im gonna go goodbye

but freddie is like!!!!! oh my god oh my god you’re john

and john puts two and two together (strange man at roger’s doorstep? probably knows roger) and is like fuck. ok like yeah y’all had ur laughs i’m an idiot lets move on now i have to go

and freddie is???? you’re an idiot???? roger learned french because he had a crush on you and didn’t know how to tell you he wasn’t french after he got so high he started speaking a language he doesn’t know

and john’s like right yeah whatever

but freddie is!!!!! you’re a legend. an actual Legend you don’t even know. everyone knows about you, they’re going to freak when they find out i met you!!!! roger wouldn’t let anyone around for a year in case we gave him away!!!!! i can’t believe this oh my god, will you take a selfie with me??? like we all stalked you on fb obviously but it’s not the same as meeting u in person y’know??

and john is like. uh. no i dont know. ive never stalked anyone on facebook which has freddie like yeah. obviously. if you had you’d have rumbled roger much earlier 

and john’s like ok thanks for the reminder im an idiot. didn’t need it, but thanks

but freddie’s like dude i just think so highly of you??? i mean you just thought the blonde hottie across the hall was french and went for it y’know????? i’ve never learnt another language for a dick appointment but i appreciate craftsmanship when i see it and believe me when i say you, sir, are a god amongst men

can i shake your hand?

(brian, confused at the pub the week after the first incident: okay but. you know greek? why didn’t you just..... speak greek?roger: I DON’T KNOW BRIAN I WAS OFF MY FUCKING NUT OKAY?)

and anyway

roger’s thesis actually ends up being on 19th century french philosophy because. he knows french now

his dedication page reads[in english] to my supervisor, who i would not learn french for[in french] and john, for who i did not have to learn french for, but did anyway

[iampikachuhearmeroar]

okay, y’all, i’ve gotta back on my tl;dr bullshit soapbox about something:

so, the other day, i was just mindlessly scrolling through my corporate & capitalist hellscape facebook™️ (i.e. LinkedIn) and came across this totally trite mostly bullshit meme that was shared by some corporate executive search man (whose name i decided to crop out bc eh):

so i obviously agree with the last three points on this list, bc god yes my life would’ve been a bit better if I didn’t get all my dialogue about mental health only from teen mags and horrible portrayals in teen tv shows (and also this hellsite). and hell yeah everyone, and I mean EVERYONE needs to learn that failure is okay many situations (like failing a class in uni or school) bc everyone fails at something sometimes. and dealing with failure is HARD. and time management is something that I’m pretty sure everyone lies to fuckin hell about on their resume, bc lots of people really suck at it, myself included. so yeah. that needs to be taught. and i also agree with the “how to manage your health” point. bc thats becoming ever more prevalent and important with career burn out etc.

but entrepreneurship? people management? conflict resolution? creativity? how to manage money? public speaking? like y’all. three of those ARE taught/learned in school, who the fuck wrote this meme? 

for anyone who actually paid attention in maths class, (which is probably very few people outside of the top performing classes), there WAS A WHOLE FUCKING UNIT that focuses on financial maths (in australia anyway). I ignored this unit as well as maths in general at school, bc I generally hated maths and was convinced that I was somehow never going to get a job. but i remember the gist of the overall topic and its subtopics. one subtopic teaches you how to calculate your wages in various contexts (overtime, double-time and a half, holiday payments, im pretty sure maternity leave pay was jammed in somewhere? idk if other countries would have double time & a 1/2 like australia though). another subtopic teaches you how to calculate interest on bank loans and credit rates on credit cards. a third subtopic teaches you how to calculate savings (obvs in terms of discounts in shops)....im sure there was a bit about budgeting in there somewhere? im pretty sure there were some questions were about tax payments somewhere as a subtopic enrichment exercise? but you get my gist. are these not money management skills? in some sense? like if i could find one of my old maths textbooks or old maths books i’d give an example of a question, to make my point stronger. but the problem, like i said before, is that a load of people (myself included) just zone out in maths in high school and stop trying with it. they forget what they’ve learnt, and just remember how much they hated algebra and how they’ll never use it again. maths was one hell of a fucking strong bitch, guys. but maybe i’m wrong.

creativity? excuse me? have people forgotten about art classes? drama classes? english classes? music classes? need i go on? okay don’t get me wrong, most of these classes did focus a lot on memorising quotes or facts about people (artists/writers/poets/composers/dramatists etc) or specific  periods/movements in art or theatre or literature for example.... but the amazing sculptures/paintings etc people created in art for their final projects in year 12, or even in year 10 were works of their imagination. the scripts people write in drama or maybe english (if you had a fun teacher who did a screenwriting unit, for example) are creative asf. especially in year 12 when they do their major projects, where they may produce a monologue or a short movie, and then there’s a group piece. drama students might even make their own costumes for these performances. LIKE AIN’T THAT A LOT OF CREATIVITY RIGHT THERE Y’ALL????? and english. lowly old english. THEY HAVE A WHOLE FUCKING TOPIC ON CREATIVE WRITING FOR FUCKS SAKE. the original music people might create for their final projects too in year 12? does that not count as creativity? like yes, i know a lot of these things do still have to meet bs assessment criteria (especially in catholic schools, where the main things are you don’t offend the catholic education office and jesus/god lmao) to be considered worthy of a mark for your year 12 exams. but FUCK. HOW THE FUCK AREN’T ANY OF THESE SUBJECTS COUNTED TOWARDS BEING CREATIVE???????? like fuck your corporate creative ideation or w/e bullshit, Callum. drama and english even lend themselves to improvisation in some instances, like public speaking, which is examined further, below.

next, we move on to public speaking. this shit is basically taught from the first goddamn day of “show & tell” in kindy/kindergarten, and this fucker has the gall to say that it’s not fucking taught in schools? someone call in miley cyrus/hannah montana to throw the fuck down in this motherfucking hoedown BC THIS STUPID-ASS MEME-FUCKER HAS NERVE. i hated public speaking. absolutely hated it. even though it was ironically one of the places i ended up excelling in in english classes. even when i fucked up in my english speeches with like “oh, fuck.... said nelson mandela,  i’ve seem to’ve lost my palm card. wait, shit! there it is... excuse me while i pull it out of my ass. whoops, sorry miss” *bats eyes and finger guns at my year 9 english teacher who has her head in her hands and is done with my shit, while the class laughs at my gaffe* i’d still end up with like 73% or like 26/30. it was baffling. but for people who weren’t the class clown/smart alec like i was from years 7-10 (and like i actually wasn’t once i moved schools).... public speaking is like the leading cause of anxiety, right? like by the time i got to doing speeches/presentations at uni i was having panic attacks... the thought of presenting to my classes made me fucking sick with fear and anxiety. nearly every subject i did at uni (even when i tried to avoid subs with public speaking assessments) and throughout school had some type of presentation/speech whatever you want to call it project/activity in it. even fucking SPORT/PDHPE at school and even philosophy at uni. and these fuckers are saying its not taught in schools. FUCK  OFF. like yeah, i get that they actually mean it in the professional sense.... where people can give the sappy bs motivational speeches or an insightful ted-talk worthy 20-minute presentation... or a great sales pitch. but like??? save that for mike “my dad phoned in to EY and i have a job waiting for me after uni” mcfuck in a business major or law degree? or for clubs like toastmasters? fuck. ok enough of the skills we learn in school. let’s move onto the businesslike-sounding ones of “people management”, “conflict management” and fucking “entrepreneurship”. like. what the fuck? okay in some sense people management and conflict management could potentially be used in managing friendships and relationships in your personal life. but like. i can feel the business underpinnings and i dont like it lmao. like why do you want fully functioning adults straight out of school, franklin? and there’s extra credit conflict management subjects at uni??? or at least my home uni had it... and i never did them bc they were intensive courses during summer break lol. but the one that pissed me off the most was entrepreneurship. LIKE ARE KIDS NOT FUCKING ALLOWED TO BE KIDS NOW????? well  apparently: “NO! YOU MUST ALWAYS THINK OF MONEY MAKING WAYS TO BE RICH! YOU MUST BE ENTREPRENEURIAL!!!!!! YOU MUST GENERATE BUSINESS IDEAS FROM THE TIME YOU CAN FUCKIN’ WALK!!!!! AND SPEAK!!! CHILDHOOD AND BEING A TEENAGER DON’T EXIST WORKER BEE!!!! CAPITALISM FOR ALL!!!! WORKER BEES!!! CAPITALISM IS YOUR FRIEND!!! OWN A BUSINESS BY THE TIME YOU’RE 8 YEARS OLD!” like it’s insidious asf. and it doesn’t acknowledge that most entrepreneurs are already privileged people anyway, who usually have some type of money to start off their venture (or that’s what it feels like anyway). and yeah throw all the “THIS BOY IS AN ENTREPRENEUR AT 18!!! 18!!!???? BY STARTING HIS OWN BUSINESS AT 12!!!! WHAT A CHAMP! 😁🙃” clickbait news stories at me, but i don’t fucking care. the concept and perceived over-importance and almost preaching mindset of entrepreneurship is slowly becoming insidious and toxic asf. call me paranoid. but that’s what it feels like.

but with those last three topics, i want to make a point that school curriculum’s (in australia at least, and probably worldwide) are so jam-packed already with sport (which is pointless and shitty), geography (ok how to read maps is important, but i never bothered to learned to do it properly), history, science, english etc etc etc..... that like.... where the actual fuck are the gonna jam the above bs (people management”, “conflict management” and entrepreneurship) into the curriculum???? and also teachers are already over-worked enough as it is, they don’t need another load of shitty subjects pushed onto them. and they sure asf don’t earn enough (especially in the states) to have this bs pushed into their subject schedules either. keep them at uni, where they should be. or just in the workplace/in the general public where they belong. and if people suggest that you could probably push these subjects into the year 11/12 business studies programs or elective commerce courses in years 9/10, save your goddamn breath. like i remember looking at business studies hsc papers in years 11/12 to see what they did.... and it was pretty chock-a-block anyway. and my experience of my year 9 commerce was horrible, to say the least. let kids be kids, for fucks sake. they shouldn’t have to be fully functioning adults in the workplace, by the end of high school, for fucks sake. AND ENTREPRENEURSHIP IS NOT AN ESSENTIAL SKILL????!!!! FUCK OFF WITH THAT SHIT, WILHELM. anyway. that’s my rant over about how i hate how corporate people are trying to be #relatablewiththeyouth🙃 with their shitty versions of “10 things i wish we learned in school” memes.... and failing.... without realising that this is why millennials are suspicious and cynical about meme usage by corporate people/corporations.

[dazzlinghaze528-blog]

Lovin’ Lover: A Taylor Swift superfan’s review of Lover

Lover moved me so that I had to write a review of it. Figured it belonged on here just as much as it did on my personal blog. I hope it speaks to some fellow Swifties and maybe even someday Taylor herself. 

I’ve identified as a Taylor Swift super fan for an appropriate 13 years now. I specifically recall being in the seventh grade, checking my hot pink iPod Nano at 11:00 PM sharp to listen to the launch of Fearless single “You Belong With Me”- the first of many times I would come to dance this dance.

As much as I know she has meant to so many of the young women who have grown up with her, I have to admit I still sometimes feel as though there is something special about the bond we share as artist and fan. Something almost cosmic or spiritual. There are so many similar, specific ways that we both seem to interact with the world. Something in the way that melodies and words and storytelling keep us moving forward. Something in the way we analyze the complexities of the lives we’ve found ourselves in and the way that can feed anxiety if we’re not carefully waiting for it. Something in the bubbly personalities, the love of cats and vintage fashion. Something in the golden hair and indigo eyes.

Something in the way that we LOVE love.

This album is arguably Taylor Swift’s most mature, personal analysis of love of any of her albums thus far. It’s not just snakes transforming into butterflies and paper rings and golden hours. It’s an inside look at the rainbow spectrum of ways that love can manifest itself in real lives, not just in storybooks. And that moved me to the point where I had to (literally) take a note out of Taylor’s book and write about it. So here we go:

“I Forgot That You Existed”

Taylor has described this opener as the track that transitions the listener out of her previous Reputation era. It’s sonically very bright and buoyant, with perhaps the melody that most easily rolls of the voice. And it settles in the emotion that most are striving for when recovering from drama or a betrayal: indifference. Some will call this song ‘petty,’ but I challenge all who listen to think back to the first time they thought about someone who wronged them after months, or maybe even years of occupancy in their minds and thought, “Oh- I forgot about them.” Is there any stronger sense of relief?

“Cruel Summer”

Littered with sharp imagery and cutting lyrics, this is (in my opinion) the album’s most epic track. I don’t have a particularly eloquent way of explaining this, but the production sounds like neon- ala the intro music to HBO’s Sharp Objects. And the story is one that 20-somethings know, excuse the joke, all too well. This story is one of a summer fling that you find yourself wanting to grow up into something real, and the very real fear that you could get cut when you let the other person know. When TS said, “I’m drunk in the back of the car, and I cried like a baby coming home from the bar. Said I’m fine but it wasn’t true; I don’t wanna keep secrets just to keep you,” …I felt that.

“Lover”

I can’t say enough glowing things about this song. It’s a waltz that sounds straight out of the 60s and uses some of my all time favorite words. Words that sound straight out of a Jane Austen novel. Between “there’s a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about you dear” and “my heart’s been borrowed and yours has been blue; all’s well that ends well to end up with you,” wedding related Instagram captions are set for the next couple of years. As beautiful as this song is, I admit that it really is a song meant for lovers. You love it more when you are in love yourself.

“The Man”

I’ve yet to hear a song quite like this yet, which is surprising given the time that we’re living in. It’s even more striking coming from Taylor Swift, a woman who was named this past year’s highest paid celebrity. Period. It’s a fascinating observation that many of the things that Taylor Swift has been attacked for over the years: dating a handful of high-profile men, being outspoken about musicians’ financial and artistic rights, engaging with and strategically planning for a wildly intense and devoted fanbase, are lauded when done by men in the industry. Additionally, NO ONE seems to want to write about how incredibly wealthy TS is. As though it will make the reader uncomfortable. But journalists have no problem writing about the wealth and affluence of male celebrities. Food for thought; this song should be required listening.

“The Archer”

“The Archer” is a song that I truly listened to death upon its early release. I was particularly struck by the line, “And all of my heroes died all alone. Help me hold on to you.” As bizarre a connection this may be, it reminded me of one of my new favorite shows The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel and the way the heroine wrestles with wether or not greatness in her art equates to a life lived alone, as she begins to achieve success with her stand-up comedy career. This isn’t all the song is about- it’s truly a very wide range of introspection, but it is what stuck with me the most as a creative who also dreams of one day falling in love and having a family.

“I Think He Knows”

Okay- this song truly fits the modern day definition of a BOP. This is probably the song on the album that most frequently gets stuck in my head upon listening.“Wanna see what’s under that attitude,” is a totally swoon worthy line. There’s also a bridge that reminds me of “Treacherous,” one of my favorite songs off of her album Red. With that song we start with “Nothing safe is worth the drive, and I will follow you, follow you home,” and end up at “Lyrical smile, indigo eyes, hand on my thigh we can follow the sparks, I’ll drive.” in Lover. I’ve said it once but I’ll say it again, “Treacherous” ran so “I Think He Knows” could SPRINT!

7. “Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince”

I truly have so many thoughts about this song. I would argue this is the album’s smartest song, as it likens America’s current political climate to the world of an American high school- with popularity contests, school spirit chants, and clique mentality. The first time I listened to it I went, “…is this about Hilary Clinton? No…wait?” Lines like “I’m feeling helpless, the damsels are depressed. Boys will be boys then, where are the wise men?” and “They whisper in the hallway she’s a bad, bad girl. The whole school is rolling fake dice. You play stupid games, you win stupid prizes,” were screaming 2016 election to me. The song really encapsulates the moment you realize that American politics is filled with people who manipulate the system- and how that can lead to the conclusion that the prize isn’t real either.

“Paper Rings”

“Paper Rings” has grown on me since my first listen. It’s got a slight British pop-punk vibe that I wasn’t sure I was that into at first. But the more I listened, the more I fell for all of the specific, tiny details of the love that she’s found for herself. The line, “Went home and tried to stalk you on the internet. Now I’ve read all of the books beside your bed,” held so much weight to me as an amateur Internet sleuth and a lover of the written word. I found myself going “Woah- look how far they’ve COME!” It’s also just plain fun and will be awesome to see live.

“Cornelia Street”

It’s pretty incredible to know that Taylor Swift wrote this massive, sweeping song all by her lonesome. But it’s just a reminder that underneath all of the awesome production on this album, there’s just truly great songwriting. This track really leans on the idea that memories can become attached to places, impossible to separate. Ala her Red era masterpiece, “All Too Well,” TS so vividly paints a picture of the memories made on Cornelia Street that once she says “I’d never walk Cornelia Street again,” you immediately understand why.

“Death By A Thousand Cuts”

There’s a pretty amazing story behind this track. Long story short, Taylor was inspired by an incredible (and completely underrated) Netflix Rom-Com called Someone Great to write this song. But BEFORE that, a film-maker named Jennifer Kaytin Robinson was inspired to write Someone Great after soothing a heartache with Taylor’s album 1989– specifically the iconic song, “Clean.” So this tune already carries the legacy of art made by powerful women. Additionally, I find that it has some of the most tragically relatable lyrics. “My heart, my hips, my body, my love. Tryna’ find a part of me that you didn’t touch,” and “Quiet my fears with the touch of your hand. Paper cut stains from our paper thin plans,” so well articulate the paper-cut pain of the dissolution of a once cherished relationship.

“London Boy”

“London Boy” is by far the cheekiest song on the album. It’s clever as all get out, and a welcome buffer between tracks 10 and 12. An interesting observation by country singer-songwriter, Ryan Hurd: “Feels like it’s written like a country song, but it’s all dressed up like a pop song. Super cool.” As a massive country music fan, I can attest to this. “London Boy” has a crystal clear story, extremely bright lyrics, and it spends most of its time listing the best parts of a particular place- all lovable tropes of the country music genre.

“Soon You’ll Get Better”

So I have yet to make it through this song without crying…and I’ve probably listened to the album at least seven times now. I often think of skipping it, but it is sonically catnip to me. A collaboration with the Dixie Chicks, this track is entirely acoustic, has tight female harmonies, and violin- what am I to do? This wildly personal song is about Taylor’s mother’s battle with cancer and the denial and grief she’s experienced around that so far. The song is stunning and more than anything, universal. Come to it prepared.

“False God”

Saxophone in a Taylor Swift song? Yes. “False God” sounds like it belongs specifically in a Speakeasy. It’s got breathy vocals, a slightly rambling melody, and extremely sexy lyrics. It’s not the most relatable song on the album; most of us aren’t superstars managing bi-continental relationships. But I like the world that it sucked me into.

“You Need to Calm Down”

Not only is this song pure Pop fun, “You Need to Calm Down” addresses three whole categories of internet haters. Those who make a habit of shooting mean tweets at celebrities and people they don’t know first thing in the morning, those who are anti-LGBTQ equality, and those who constantly pin female artists against each other- as though people don’t have the capacity to like more than one at a time. In the context of Lover, this is the song that most enforces “Spread love; not hate.”

“Afterglow”

I’m of the opinion that “Afterglow” has been a bit underrated since the arrival of the album. It’s a simple melody, but what’s incredible about this song is that it is notably the best her voice has ever sounded. Her instrument really shines here. It’s also one of the first Taylor Swift songs I’ve ever loved despite not relating to the content in the slightest. TS writes here from the perspective of someone who is tending to a relationship she wounded by relaxing so much into it that she lets anxiety get the better of her and lashes out. It’s a very specific relationship milestone that I’ve yet to ever reach myself, but she sings about it with such passion that I’m totally invested.

“ME!”

“ME!” is truly a Dr. Seuss book come to life. Not just because of the cartoonish joy in the video, but because of that same cartoonish joy that comes through in the vocals of both her and Brenden Urie. It’s not the most lyrically complex or dynamic song of the album, but by gosh it’s positive and catchy and it makes people happy. It also serves it’s purpose post Afterglow beautifully- acknowledging that even when she is a “handful,” her lover loves her still.

“It’s Nice to Have a Friend”

My favorite thing about this song is the ghostly background vocals and string instruments, both of which were provided by students at a not-for-profit after school music program in Toronto. Proceeds from the track are going to support the program and help keep arts education afloat. Knowing this took this song from a song that I liked to a song that I love. The song also truly captures the hope of the beginning so well and in so few words. “Twenty questions, we tell the truth. You’ve been stressed out lately, yeah me too. Something gave you the nerve to touch my hand, it’s nice to have a friend.”

“Daylight”

“Daylight” sounds like a sunrise. It makes you feel as though her life is finally beginning as this album is ending. The most enjoyable part of this song is the bridge where she compares what she once thought true love would be to what she knows it to be now. She calls back to her old self by singing, “I once believed love would be burning red, but it’s golden.” It’s simultaneously the most nostalgic track on the album and also the most hopeful, and I breathe with her when she sings “You gotta step into the daylight and let it go.”  To quote her past life, “…in the death of her reputation she felt truly alive.”

Here’s a link to the blog post in case you wanna share with other Swifties <3

 https://annalehnhoff.wordpress.com/2019/08/27/lovin-lover-a-taylor-swift-enthusiasts-review-of-new-album-lover/