#and you may never hear of all their breakout hits

[pendragonsclotpole]

sometimes i think i’ve found all the best fic rec lists and collections on ao3 and then i find a fic in a fandom i never read (most recently a sheldon/penny from tbbt) which is part of a collection (usually with some sort of generic name like ‘fics that keep me up at night’ or ‘fics to be loved and reread’) and they have hundreds of works listed in my usual fandoms which i have never read and i realize

i know nothing

i have read nothing

[msweebyness]

Times the Akuma Class Had Each Other’s Backs

Hey, folks! These are some old prompts for the Akuma Class that were in my notes! They were originally supposed to be shorts, but who knows? Maybe I’ll do some one day! Enjoy! @artzychic27 @imsparky2002

It should come as no surprise to you all that the akuma class absolutely despises Gabriel. For one thing, he’s a neglectful father who rarely gives his son the time of day, and for another, he’s an asshat who forced his son into a career that he doesn’t want. There have been so many breakouts from Adrien’s bedroom to take him to do something fun, or just trolling the heck out of Gabe in any way they possibly can. They plan to torment him until he gives up custody to The Gorilla.

It’s the sad truth that not all teachers have their students’ best interests at heart, and this was sadly the case with Kim and DuPont’s (now former) math teacher for their grade. He would constantly cruelly berate the young athlete and tell him he was an imbecile and would never leave middle school once the other students had left. He gave Kim extra work he wasn’t equipped to understand, and offered no kind of assistance. And when the other kids were there, he would constantly single Kim out, calling on him when he knew he was unprepared. Eventually though, the rest of the class caught on and all began taking notes and recording what they were witnessing. After a week or two, they reported their findings to the school board, and the teacher lost his employment. And when Kim’s parents were called in…the entire school could hear Mai screaming in furious Vietnamese.

It’s not rocket science that having your work stolen really hurts, and Max knows this firsthand. He worked for weeks on a new software format that would speed up processing to an insane degree, and was going to present it to a prestigious tech institution. Only for the program to get stolen by some jerks from another class who wanted the position for themselves. Thankfully, the akuma class is always prepared and had proven records of Max working on the program, such as photos and video, showing that it was his. They’ve done the same thing with jerks who’ve tried to steal or trace Nath’s art.

Whenever Rose can’t come to class because she’s having an episode of her condition, her classmates set up tablet with a video call and place it in her seat next to Juleka so she can feel like she’s in class with them. They also take extra notes just in case the connection goes out and she misses something.

Juleka’s first professional modeling gig was a joyous occasion…and one that warranted a whole boatload of stress. Juleka nearly worked herself into an anxiety attack on the day the shoot was scheduled…until she saw the boatload of encouraging messages from her classmates and the rest of the Girl Squad there to accompany her. The class does the same thing when Mylene is nervous about speaking for one of her charities or going on stage.

Marinette was overjoyed when she was nominated to take part in a prestigious fashion competition…only to be consumed by anxiety when she discovered she would be up against professional designers who had entire teams at their disposal! Thankfully, she has a squad of dedicated friends who were willing to learn how to put dresses together, no matter how many times they pricked themselves or had to redo their work. They absolutely kicked ass and all the other designers were embarrassed they were beat by a group of teens.

(Here’s the big one!) We all know teens can be stupid little shits, and this was certainly the case with some of Ivan’s neighbors. The three assholes, like a bunch of dickheads, decided to entertain themselves by throwing rocks from their mom’s garden to scare a group of little kids who were playing in the nextdoor yard. Well, this was the Bruel’s house and Sasha happened to be among those kids…and one of the rocks hit her in the side of the head. Hearing his little sister sobbing from inside the house while he’d been helping Mylene (who was over at the time) make the kids something for lunch, Ivan came back out to see what was going on…and completely lost it. After Mylene took Sasha inside and called an ambulance because her head was bleeding, Ivan blew up at the three boys, demanding to know what the hell was wrong with them. Of course, they decided to use this outburst to claim he had been threatening them. Of course the parents believed them, despite the testimonies from the other children (Kiran and the Cesaire twins) of what had happened, and actually threatened to sue and posted a warning on the neighborhood Twitter that the people next door had a ‘very aggressive son’… only to be forced to take it down and apologize when the akuma class (as well as the other three classes in the grade) all left comments saying that was total bullshit…and Max got ahold of security footage from the neighbors behind the Bruels, permitting Sabrina to get her dad involved. Sasha ended up having to stay in the hospital for a day or two, getting stitches and making sure there were no internal injuries to her head. (Thankfully, she was clear) But when she got home, the entire akuma class had made a ‘Get Well Soon’ card for her with personal messages from each of them! Marinette even made her a cute Sulley Mini Plushy, (Monsters Inc is her favorite movie) and Nath drew a picture of her as a princess superhero (what she says she wants to be when she grows up!) And don’t worry, those three idiots got in HUGE trouble. Let’s just say, Galina and Iosif were NOT happy with them…or their parents for that matter. (And it turns out the rest of the class had gone around talking to the neighbors and it turns out these kids had a history of problem behavior that their parents never did anything about!)

Family sticks together! (The Sasha one is based a little on personal frustration, because stuff like this happens, sadly more than once where I live. As someone who loves and works with young children, I HATE that the idiots who do that kind of stuff GET AWAY WITH IT. The last ended how I wish these situations would most of the time!) Leave your thoughts in the comments and reblogs!

[astaroth1357]

How Often They Worry about MC…

For those who don’t know, I have a little dog named Charlie and she is a large portion of my world. There's no need to be alarmed, my dog is fine, but there are days where I hold her and all I can think about is how much I worry about her health down the line… I suppose we often do that for the people we love, particularly the ones who may not last as long as we will. Take that as inspiration if you'd like.

Lucifer 

Near constantly. 

If you tracked his blood pressure on a grid, you'd see it start to continuously rise about when he decided they were worth having in his life.

Lucifer is the eldest sibling to a whole crew of brothers so he's no stranger to worry. He worried about his brothers when they were young, he worried about them after the Fall, and he still worries about them now (even if he's less open about it).

But a part of him knows that his brothers can handle their own, at least to varying degrees. The MC, though? He's far less sure…

They've proven rather resilient, but also headstrong and reckless. Neither of which are good things to be in a place this dangerous...

If Lucifer isn't careful, he can catch himself staring at a wall or window just wondering where they are and if they're doing alright… If he called them every time he had a passing worry, their inbox would be full by the end each week.

He holds himself back because he doesn't have the time to constantly protect them, but that doesn't stop him from sending a text once or twice a day. They better respond or he'll start (secretly) panicking.

Mammon

He forgets their mortality from time to time, but every time he remembers it hits like a ton of bricks…

Mammon is a pretty "in-the-moment" person. He doesn't spend a lot of time dwelling on the future, but whenever he does the thought of losing MC always comes back to him again and again.

Like. It's gotta happen eventually, right? They're human, humans die, hell they don't even live that long to start with!

The MC can always tell when Mammon's getting worried because he'll get uncharacteristically quiet and pace around or hover by them…

Every little injury or strenuous task will suddenly seem like too much to him as well. 

If they need to carry some boxes, he'll carry them all.

If they have to jog to class, he's carrying them. 

If they so much as get a papercut, he'll have a heart attack.

It's not very hard to get Mammon out of these funks - he really does want them to reassure him that they're okay - but he's never going to get fully over it…

Not until he can steal whatever top secret immortality formula Solomon must have used anyway… He'll get it off that bastard eventually.

Leviathan

Thinks about it so often he has to actively try not to just to get any peace…

He dodges his fears for MC like a protagonist dodges lasting consequences. Every time he feels one creeping up, he's always got a distraction waiting…

"Hey where's MC at? I hope they didn't fall into the riv-OH HEY CHECK OUT THIS NEW GAME!!"

"What are they doing over there…? That looks hard, what if they bre-WAIT DIDN'T MY FAVORITE VOICE ACTOR JUST RELEASE A NEW PODCAST???"

"What if the MC dies tomorrow and they leave me all alo-DEVIL FIGHT 200! YOU CAN'T BEAT DEVIL FIGHT 200, LET’S BREAK MY HIGH SCORE!!"

Cut him some slack, his psyche cannot handle the idea of losing them on top of everything else he grapples with every day.

If, on the rare occasion, he does let himself fall down that rabbit hole he becomes extra clingy and practically begs MC not to leave his room… like ever. He'd bubble wrap them if he could.

Anytime they get really hurt or really sick he refuses to leave their side even if it means he has to awkwardly sit on the floor. He just needs to be able to glance at them every so often to be sure they're alive… Still breathing?? Phew…

Satan

He worries, preps, rationalizes, then worries again…

For Satan, knowledge is power and every scrap of information he can learn about MC is more power he can use to keep them safe and healthy.

Yes, he will want their medical history. Yes, he's going to need a list of prescriptions. Family members too. And no, you do not get a choice.

He'll read up on as many things as he can - pawn medical journals off of witches and get magical alternatives from Solomon.

The cycle usually goes: 

1. He's lying awake at night because he just heard about some terrible bacteria that makes human's skin peel off or something.

2. He does all the research he can on this bacteria, its treatment options, best prevention methods, etc.

3. Gets right about to break out the rubber booties for MC to wear around, then realizes they have a very slim chance of catching said bacteria since it's only native to incredibly remote parts of Indonesia.

4. Feels instant relief that MC will probably not catch flesh-eating bacteria and can finally sleep again…

5. Hears of some other human medical horror from Solomon and starts to worry…

It's a vicious cycle indeed… But at least he's getting a lot of medical training. Soon enough he'll be the Devildom's version of a human vet (which I guess is just a doctor, come to think of it. 🤔)

Asmodeus 

Lives so "here-and-now" that he doesn't remember often, but when he does it's always heartbreaking…

Asmo usually tries to worry about things as little as possible. It’s bad for the skin, you know? But when the MC is involved, all of that goes out the window.

Like how a delicate blossom eventually wilts in the snow, the MC is bound to leave them in time… Usually there's supposed to be something beautiful in that kind of tragedy, but perhaps he's just too close to them to find any romance in it.

The thought of their death gives him breakouts and anytime they get hurt or sick he's the first brother to offer them comfort. Every time.

Because he doesn't feel like he's as physically strong as he brothers, he tries to make up for it by minding their health in other ways. Anything to keep his MC strong and beautiful as always!

If Asmo is in a worrying mood, then he may also compensate by trying to take the MC out to a party or some fun event. Why sit around worrying by himself when he could be making memories with them now, right?

Beelzebub

It comes in waves, mostly at night.

When your thoughts throughout the day are mostly, "I wish I wasn't so hungry," it doesn't afford you a lot of time to think about much else.

In a way, it's a good thing since he experiences a lot less stress. But those worries are still there and they mostly plague his dreams…

Beel doesn’t feel hungry when he's sleeping, so a lot of his fears will make themselves known overnight. An injured or dying MC is often in his rotation of nightmares though, of course, he'd rather it not be…

After having one of these dreams, his first instinct is to always make sure the MC is okay. If they're with him, he'll hug them and check their heartbeat. If they're somewhere else, he'll go to them or shoot a text.

He has woken up without realizing his nightmare was all a dream though, and usually it's up to Belphie or MC themselves to console him while he cries… It's so heartbreaking, sweet boy just puts a lot of pressure on himself to be sure they're safe…

When he worries, it's like they're the most beautiful and expensive China set in a room full of bulls and hammers. If he could tape them to his side, he probably would. He gets scared for them that much…

Belphegor 

More scared about it than anyone else in the House.

Despite his calm demeanor, Belphie is truly afraid of losing his loved ones beneath the surface… He's already lost one of his most dear siblings before, going through that again may just break him.

Unfortunately, he's also felt just how fragile the MC is firsthand... He's not even the strongest of his brothers, yet he was able to snuff them out so easily… Who's to say someone else won't try?

Like Beel, MC's death is a recurring nightmare for him but he can usually shake off his dreams fairly well, if not change them mid-sleep. More scary is when something is actually wrong with them or they're not feeling well.

Belphie always sets his inner laziness aside for the MC when he can. If they get sick, he'll usually be right along with his family to take care of them - even if he has to skip school to do so (not that he cares about class anyway).

When he's worrying about them, he tries to play it off at first, but soon enough they'll notice him acting overly concerned and losing sleep… Best to calm him down before he starts getting cranky.

[mcyt-imagines-library]

I just read your “Technoblade s/o betrays him” and loved it

But then I started making up scenarios in my head like-

ok so what if his s/o betrayed him because the other side was holding very important people from the s/o like siblings, or someone else very very important to them and used them against them

(also may I please be 🐉 anon??))

I’m loving these reactions lol. I’m gonna try my hand at writing some dialogue, wish me luck

*Writing this to Snow by Ricky Montgomery

**Little bit of canon divergence btw

Technoblade’s S/O Betrays Him, Pt. 2

When the bust had happened, nearly everyone had gotten away. Niki managed to get away and run to her underground city, Ranboo was pardoned by Tubbo and was taken back to Snowchester, and Phil had managed to fly off at Techno's request before he was shackled, each of them promising to return to help him.

It had been a few days, now being locked in Pandora's Box in a mid level security solitary cell, half waiting for them to fulfill their promises and half trying to plan his own breakout. That was, until you came to visit him.

While you weren't exactly the first person he wanted to see pop up at his cell, he did want answers. Mainly one answer though.

What all was a lie?

Was all that time you spent talking with him about how you believe all unfair establishments should crumble a lie? Was you calling everyone family and caring for them a lie?  Were all of those times you spent in his room together all a lie too? Was it all just to get him to trust you? Because if so, it worked. He just wished it hadn't.

You nervously stood in front of Technoblade’s cell, your eyes trained on the metal bars that were bolted into the small window. Sam gave you a quick rundown before he left, telling you to call him if anything gets out of hand. You nodded and waved him off as he walked through the long, black bricked hallway and, presumably, back to the front desk. 

When he was gone, you noticed an oppressive silence in the prison wing. You figured that you’d be able to hear, at the very least, the distant sound of a few particularly strong waves lapping at he lower walls of the building, but no. The only noises were your’s and Technoblade’s breathing.

After a few minutes of those sounds, you figured it was enough to make someone go mad. You could only guess how Technoblade felt. 

“Why are you here?”

Your eyes shot up from pristine iron bars and to your, most likely ex, boyfriend.

He was across from you, sitting on a bed hanging from the wall, his back pressed against the cold bricks. His pink hair was hung around his face in clumped strands, his amber eyes were trained on you, refusing to break the slightest bit of eye contact. You could see, from the small tusks that poked out from the bottom row of his teeth, that his face was twisted into a grimace.

You averted your eyes from him and onto the rest of his little cell. There was a toilet, the shitty little brick of a bed he was on, and a small lamp that hung from the ceiling. 

He quickly got up and, within a few steps, grabbed at his barred window, wrapping one of his hands around a bar, the other hand hitting a few others, causing a loud ‘bang’ to echo through the hallway. His expression got more intense. “Why are you here?”

You jumped back from both the sudden noise and the harshness in his tone. 

blinked tears from your eyes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t- it was Quackity!” you blurted out.

While his expression didn’t lighten up, he made a small confused sound, urging you to elaborate.

You let out a small, awkward and stilled laugh while you rubbed your eyes, blinking away tears.

You began to explain how Quackity wanted him gone and, instead of getting his own hands dirty, he made you the pawn. By taking someone you cared for so deeply, a young sibling figure, and dangling them over your head, he had effectively trapped you into his own one sided war. 

Technoblade looked tired. Any angry pretenses he once held were dropped and he looked exhausted. The dark rings around his eyes were more obvious in the light of the hallway, as were the scratches and burns on his face and arms from the fight. 

“How much were you lying about, then?“ His voice had gotten the littlest bit more gentle. Not quite what he would use when you two were alone, but the same tone he’d use around the rest of the syndicate. 

“Nothing with you was a lie, Tech,” you let out a small laugh of disbelief. “Me falling for you wasn’t even part of the plan, it just happened. I never faked my feelings, they were just there.”

He steeled his gaze. “I can’t forgive you. You betrayed me and the rest of the syndicate.“

“I know. I know I did. And I know I can’t make this right, not in full, but I can still try,” you lowered your voice and looked him in the eyes before you wrapped you softly touched the hand that was wrapped around one of the bars. “I’m going to get you out. I don’t care how long it takes, I don’t care if I get hunted down afterwords, I don’t even care if I die in the process, I’m going to free you. I promise.“

His expression had fully softened, your touch being a nice change of pace for the last few days. He placed his forehead against the bars and let out a sigh. You following in suit, standing on your tip toes and placing your head against the bars too. 

Against the protests of the voices in his head, maybe there was still a small part of him that loved you.

[thorniest-rose]

I looked up Sal Mineo, and not only does he look like Ralph, but he's a breakout child star, known mainly from one movie who got typecast playing kids then had a dryspell when he got older. His biopic would've been perfect for Ralph, its almost meta lol. Speaking of, did Ralph ever talk about his dryspell? he just dropped off in the early 90s but idk if that was just him taking a break and being with family, or if he actually just stopped getting offered roles.

Hi, thanks so much for this, I love that you read about Sal Mineo after hearing about the possible biopic! I completely agree that Ralph would have been perfect, for sure because of the physical similarities but also because of how passionate he was about it being made! From what I've read it seems like it was a passion project of his for awhile, he really wanted it to be made, and he really, really wanted to play Sal Mineo. It's such a shame, and I'm not sure how much of it was a reality and how much of it is just a dream of Ralph's (like I'm not sure if it really went beyond having some initial talks with Francis Ford Coppola, who directed him in The Outsiders) but I do wish it had been made, I think even beyond the physical likeness, he would have captured how sensitive and intelligent Sal Mineo was.

As far as Ralph's long dryspell goes, I think there were a number of reasons that his career fell by the wayside tbh. Ralph openly hated Hollywood and the LA lifestyle, and always shied away from being called a celebrity, and I get the impression he only ever stayed in LA for as long as he had to. He never lived there to pursue a career, for example. In addition to that, he really loved being at home in Long Island and loved his family and his girlfriend, and I honestly think despite how much he loved acting, he loved his ordinary down-to-earth life back home even more, which was always going to clash with an acting career where you have to spend so much time away. He also never really transitioned into more adult roles in the 80s. In TKK he's playing a 16yo when he's 22 and even in the late 80s when he was well into his late 20s, he was still playing a teenager, and I don't think people saw the potential for range in him, or saw him as a leading man. He got typecast as the Karate Kid and as a teenager and that was kinda it. And again I'm not sure how much Ralph fought this because he was at home all the time! Maybe he expected roles to come to him after he was in a couple of hit movies, but I've never really heard stories of him auditioning for other roles.

Then I think there were myriad other things. Ralph gained weight in the late 80s too, at a time when actors were always expected to have gym-perfect bodies (I mean, they still are most of the time) and I think on the set of TKK3 he was reported to be difficult because he didn't want to do the film. Even looking back now, Ralph has said he could be dour and prickly, and I think he was shy too which may have come across as aloof? Not that these were reasons he wasn't getting roles, but they're just things I've read. Then he was hitting his 30s, and starting to age out of the teen roles, but still hadn't proven he could do more grown-up roles (a combination I think of not pursuing them but also not being given the chance) and his career kind of fizzled out apart from doing a couple of films like My Cousin Vinny in the early 90s. Then he had a daughter with his wife in like 1992 I think and I get the impression he became a lot more focused on his family and being a dad. He did spots of acting here and there like a recurring role on Ugly Betty in the mid noughties and appearing on Dancing with the Stars, but nothing that was a big attention-grabbing role until CK began.

So that's Ralph Macchio!!! And like I'm happy for him, because he obviously knew from an early age what he wanted, and that was to have a family, and it's sweet that was more important to him than acting. And it's also great that he saw the celebrity lifestyle as vapid so it's something he never pursued. I think it takes a lot of intelligence and fortitude not to be sucked into that, especially at such a young age. So I'm glad he lived the life he wanted!!! But I also really think there could have been an alternate history where Ralph was given more chances and did do films like the Sal Mineo biopic, and could have had a much more successful career. Like there's a reason these oscar-winning directors like Coppola and Avildsen were casting him, it's because he had talent, he had this really tantalising mix of east coast toughness and vulnerability, and that obviously resonated with them and with audiences. I just feel like Ralph had more to offer, and while I'm so happy we have the handful of great things he's in, I can't help but wish we had more and that Ralph had been given more chances to prove what an amazing actor he can be!

[blxetsi]

armin arlert, mikasa ackerman, and eren jaeger polyamorous headcanons (modern au)

armin arlert x gn!reader, mikasa ackerman x gn!reader, eren jaeger x gn!reader, mikasa x armin x eren x gn!reader

warnings: uhh fluff, this is very long, reader has a gf b4 getting w ema,

this is like my first post since feb that isnt a request 😍😍😍 how did i pull this out of my ass

- obv eren, mikasa, and armin have been besties since childhood so its no wonder they all got together first 🤩🙏

- and theyre all hot so why wouldnt they wanna date each other

- i think armin and eren wouldve gotten together first, and then invited mikasa into their relationship

- the three of them have been officially going steady for like over a year now, and its going really well

- they didnt really expect you to drop into their lives tho

- youre an old friend of historia's and you two reconnected after you moved to the city, securing yourself a decent paying job working as a writer for the city paper

- you usually get the boring stuff, never able to get a good story to write about, focusing your time on heartwarming stories in the community or the sports column

- its boring but it pays the bills

- you were thankful when historia called you during your lunch and asked if you wanted to get drinks at a bar with her and a couple of other friends

- of course you said yes

- so historia and her girlfriend ymir picked you up after work, having dinner with them after a long week was the best, but you were a bit nervous to meet all of their friends

- thats how you met eren, mikasa and armin

- at first you were sure that mikasa and eren were dating, seeing as mikasa had her head on the taller man's shoulder, while his arm was wrapped around her

- but when armin leaned down to give mikasa a kiss before heading off to the bar you werent so sure

- ymir pulled you away to get more drinks and explained to you what the situation was, while commenting on the way you gawked at the three of them before

- you were embarassed to say the least but they didnt bring it up that night so you hoped the throuple didnt notice (they did)

- you really hit it off with all of them though, especially sasha and jean, and were constantly talked about among the friend group

- because of your demanding job dealing with writers block and deadlines you couldnt really meet up with all of them often, usually just having sleepovers at ymir and historia's apartment, the three of you drinking while you wrote on your laptop

- after a couple months of casual hangouts with historia and ymir and their friends, you kinda became one of them too which was nice

- you were added to the groupchat, you all followed each other on social media, and a certain brunet had taken a liking to you

- eren didnt know why exactly he was so attracted to you but he was, maybe it was your hair, or how pretty your skin looked even when oily or with breakouts, maybe it was your smile or your body or your sense of humor or you kindness or maybe it was all of it

- eren jaeger would always stay faithful to his boyfriend and girlfriend, but maybe they could add another person into the mix, more to love right ?

- he had only known you for a couple of months though, he didnt want to jump the gun and bring this up with his partners so soon, especially if they didnt feel the same way he did

- and it would be a bummer if you turned out to be a bad person or smth

- so summer rolls around with lots of memories being made with your new friends, as well as friends from work, and you get a girlfriend ??

- shes not really your girlfriend you two have only been out on a couple of dates and she kisses you a lot but, you havent talked about labels

- one night you, along with your friends are back at the same bar where you first met them

"so, tell us about the girl youre seeing." ymir says, smirking over her beer.

eren's ears perked up at the mention of you seeing someone. "girl ?"

historia nodded. "mhm ! y/n's been talking to someone recently, they've gone on dates and kissed and stuff."

"and stuff, jesus tori you make it sound like we've had sex." you sighed.

the blonde just laughed, leaning her body onto her freckled companion.

"well ? what about her ?" eren asks. armin slapped him on the arm, already having suspicions about eren's interest in you.

your shoulders sagged. "well, she's great and everything, truly..."

"but ? is there a but in this ?" connie asked. sasha started laughing at connie's use of the word but, while jean slapped the girl on the arm because of her reaction.

you shrugged, swirling what was left of your fruity cocktail in your glass. "well, i'm not sure. she's very lively, and sweet. but i don't know, i just don't see myself being able to be in a steady relationship with her."

"so you're gonna end it ?" eren asked. you thought he seemed a bit too eager about your failure in the love department.

"why do you care so much ? you like the thought of me being lonely ?" you shot back, before downing the rest of your drink.

"no i just-"

"i think what eren means is," mikasa intervened, her smooth voice calming you as she looked at you with a smile on her face. "is that there's no point in staying with her if you can't see yourself with her. don't lead her on."

you nodded. "you're exactly right my friend. which is the plan for tonight because i," you quickly checked the time on your phone. 8:17. "have a date with miss molly at nine, so i will be taking my leave."

the group engaged in a chorus of boos for leaving so early, while you chuckled and took the lighthearted insults thrown at you by sasha and connie with ease. grabbing all of your things you put down two twenties onto the table. "i'll see you guys later, have a goodnight." as you walked off you heard jean yell "have a good time you heartbreaker !" making you shake your head

- the date with molly went less then well. she yelled, and cried, and even tried hitting you at one point. your walk back from the park was spent blocking her on every form of social media you followed her on, and when you got back to your apartment you spent the night in a hot bath before retiring to bed

- meanwhile, armin and mikasa were trying to pry the truth out of eren, who was constantly denying his attraction to you

- finally mikasa took one for the team "eren, you aren't alone with the way you feel, i do too." this made eren more willing to open up to his partners

- armin doesnt say anything about you, only saying how youre kind. he doesnt feel the way that his girlfriend and boyfriend do, but he knows that may change

- soon enough, more time flies and christmas rolls around, with you all deciding to have a secret santa get together.

- historia invites everyone to her home on christmas eve, with ymir begrudgingly allowing it

- bertholdt and annie come too, reiner not being able to make it due to going home for christmas, while everyone else decided to stay in the city

- you picked out your secret santas at the beginning of november so you would all have enough time to find something for each other, you hoped whoever picked your name gave you something good

- after hours of games and karaoke and drinking you all decided it was time to open the presents

- ymir got socks from bertholdt, connie got an ugly beanie from ymir, historia got new pens from mikasa, mikasa got knitting needles from annie, annie got a dumbell from eren, jean got a not so appropriate t shirt from connie, jean gave sasha more comic books, armin gave new stationary paper to bertholdt, sasha gifted you that new biography you've been wanting to read and you gave armin your old copy of frankenstein by mary shelley

- he was surprised but very thankful, "how did you know i needed a new copy ?" "well i remember you said eren spilt water on your old one, and the pages just stuck together so i thought you might as well have mine"

- it warmed armin's heart that you remembered something so insignificant, and opened him up to the thought of being with you

- the rest of the night was spent with hugs and thankfulness, cheering when the clock struck 12 and it became christmas day

- after getting things cleaned up everyone decided it was time to leave, with armin, eren and mikasa offering to give you a ride home

- a ride where armin straight up kissed you in the backseat

- you stopped him of course, thinking that it was weird he would cheat on his partners right in front of them, while they were shocked all on their own for different reasons, armin who didnt have feelings for you KISSED you

- and surprisingly armin took the lead in explaining how he felt, why he kissed you, an apology for doing so, and an offer to start dating all three of them

- your heart was pounding in your ears and your entire face felt hot, it was probably the alcohol, or the way his lips felt so soft when they touched yours, so you said yes.

- its not smooth sailing from there

- youre kind of awkward

- this is your first relationship where you really feel like you could love these guys (you already do) but its also your first relationship with multiple people

- the trio start inviting you over more often, soon for sleepovers, and start inviting themselves over at your own place, mainly eren

- he just comes at random times, sometimes when youre not even there and waits for you, or stays and cleans up a bit before leaving

- armin and you share a deep love of literature, and you often find yourselves in hot debates about whatever youve read (mikasa and eren have to pry you two away before things get physical)

- mikasa likes to cook with you, she shares recipes that her mom taught her, and her and armin love to cook dinner together whereas eren is the breakfast maker of the household

- the first time you slept in the same bed as them you were so nervous your whole body thumped to the tune of your heartbeat, you were convinced armin could even hear it as he was laying beside you, but eren wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you into his large chest before whispering "youre as stiff as a board, relax honey"

- eren snores, mikasa drools, armin has those dreams where you fall and then violently wake up before you hit the ground

- slowly but surely you stop thinking about your relationship as the trio and you, but as all of you together, and that really helps you come out of your shell a bit

- you may still be in the honeymoon phase, and there may be bumps along the way, but you like being with armin, eren, and mikasa. they make you so happy, it feels like the happiest youve been in a long time

- you like watching eren and armin dance in the living room while you and mikasa cuddle on the couch, before the boys pull you two up as well

- you like when armin reads to you, his soft voice reciting the words of the great gatsby

- you like it when eren can just tell youve had a rough day, and pulls you into a hug like hes protecting you from all the bad things in the world

- you love being with them. you love them. and you think that theyre it for you

i rushed the ending bc im fucking tired but i kinda wanna do a poly!series with like sasha, connie and jean, or annie, bertholdt and reiner, or any other poly ships u guys may request !

so yeah pls give me feedback it rlly helps me figure out whether you want a polyamorous series (or just like what i write in general), and it would be my first series ever which would be super cool anyways

yeah requests open for poly!ships anyways

[osakaso5]

IDOLiSH7 End Of Year Story 2020: A Stage of Celebration

Every Day is a Good Day Part 2: The Show Begins

Part 1

[Phone rings]

Momo: Yes. This is Sunohara. Ah... Yes. Right... I see, that makes sense...

Momo: I understand. Then... Maybe next year, or the year after that... Yes. Please do.

[Door opens]

Yuki: Well?

Momo: It'll take time.

Rinto Okazaki: Hello there. It's rare for you to use your legal name while making phone calls, Momo-kun.

Rinto Okazaki: Did something happen back home?

Yuki: No, this has to do with Re:vale.

Rinto Okazaki: Re:vale... Is something going to happen to you in a year or two?

Momo: I really wanted it to be this year. Oh well, I guess there's no point to rushing this stuff...

Rinto Okazaki: ........

Momo: What's wrong, Okarin?

Rinto Okazaki: A-are you getting married?

Momo: Who, me? Yuki?

Yuki: Not us.

Rinto Okazaki: I thought so. You had me frightened for a moment.

Momo: If anyone should have a wedding, it's our president. His wife  wanted a proper ceremony, but they  ended up just signing the papers and nothing else.

Rinto Okazaki: They said they'd hold the ceremony soon. They're just waiting for Re:vale to write them a wedding song.

Yuki: Why would I make a wedding song for that guy?

Momo: Now, now. Just do it for his missus. She's a nice lady.

Rinto Okazaki: So, what was it that you wanted to get done this year?

Momo: A Re:vale shrine.

Rinto Okazaki: A Re:vale shrine..?

Momo: We've gotten to be so popular that we can't even do our New Year's shrine visit in peace anymore.

Momo: So we thought we'd have a shrine built on top of this building, department store style.

Yuki: Which is also known as separation of worship.

Rinto Okazaki: You did mention that before... Don't tell me, you were serious about it!?

Momo: Totally! It's rough being an idol, so it'd be nice to have our very own deity, to watch over us.

Yuki: That call was about a god of entertainment that Momo had been looking into. So, they can't so it yet?

Momo: They said we should visit the god regularly to form a bond first.

Yuki: That sounds reasonable. Oh well, I guess that's a new goal for us to work towards.

Rinto Okazaki: You always did have grandiose ideas... Almost too big, if you're trying to build your own personal shrine...

Momo: Oh, don't be like that! It's better than giving up without trying!

Rinto Okazaki: I can't believe my brother let you try and build a shrine on top of our agency.

Yuki: We asked if he wanted us to switch agencies or build our own shrine, and he said he'd rather have the shrine.

Rinto Okazaki: That explains everything.

Momo: And in the long run, it'd be nice to let other entertainers come visit our shrine on th New Year's, too!

Momo: It'll have food stalls too, obviously! We could even make a mikoshi!

Yuki: You're such a big dreamer, Momo.

Rinto Okazaki: That he is!

[Phone rings]

Rinto Okazaki: Ah... It's time. Well then, if you'll both excuse me.

Momo: Leaving so soon? You've been going home earlier lately,   are you doing something special?

Rinto Okazaki: Well, uh... I've been really into cleaning out  my washing machine lately!

Yuki: Seriously?

Rinto Okazaki: It's so nice to get all that mildew out, you see. I got completely hooked on it, and now it's a nightly routine for me!

Momo: Are you sure you're okay?

Rinto Okazaki: Whatever do you mean!? Of course I'm fine! Well then, I'll see you tomorrow!

[Door closes]

Momo: ........

Yuki: I never knew people could get so into cleaning their washing machine.

Momo: Wait, are you saying you believed that excuse?

Yuki: What excuse?

Momo: I think Okarin's been acting weird lately... More than once or twice, even.

Yuki: Like how?

Momo: Well... I saw an idol costume that belonged to neither of us in his car.

Yuki: An idol costume..?

Momo: There was also a headband with the word "leader" written on it.

Yuki: A headband with the word "leader"..?

Momo: Which means, either Okarin wants to start managing idols other than us...

Yuki: Or he's planning to join Re:vale, as our leader...

Momo: I know it's weird of me to say this, but it must be tough managing idols like us.

Momo: I think stress might be getting the best of Okarin...

Yuki: We should throw him one of our thank you parties, like we used to back in the day. I'll make curry, using that one really tedious recipe.

Momo: Okarin loves that curry! The boys from IDOLiSH7 wanted to try it, too!

Yuki: Really? In that case, I guess I should bring it to the New Year's party they're holding.

Momo: I'm sure they'll love it! I'm so excited!

Yuki: So am I. Just let me just ask  Yamato-kun if we can bring over food of our own.

Momo: What curry are you making?

Yuki: Probably beef curry, though I won't be able to eat it.

[Phone rings]

Yuki: Ah, he replied.

Momo: What'd he say?

Yuki: "Sure. The guys all like curry, anyway." Look.

Momo: Wow! I never thought Yamato would EVER reply to one of your messages with an excited King Pudding sticker!

Yuki: That's the power of curry at work.

Momo: I'll help you out in the kitchen! This party's gonna be so much fun! 

- - - -

Haruka Isumi: Morning.

Minami Natsume: Good morning, Isumi-san. This room certainly brings back memories.

Haruka Isumi: It's our ex-president's room.

Torao Mido: Apparently they changed this floor's layout for the New Year.

Torao Mido: They're making a new room for our current president elsewhere, so we're free to use this room whenever we're at the office.

Toma Inumaru: Great. When they said they were gonna do some cleaning around here, it made me feel a little weird.

Toma Inumaru: Good thing I told the bigwigs that I didn't want them to just sweep everything under the rug and take our spot from us...

Haruka Isumi: Our spot, huh. There's so many movies here.

Toma Inumaru: It's like our very own secret hideout!

Minami Natsume: By the way, have you already heard? There's someone who wants to come see us today.

Haruka Isumi: Someone from Tsukumo?

Minami Natsume: Yes.

Torao Mido: Is it the chief manager we've been hearing about? That was pretty much Ryo-san's job, up until recently.

Toma Inumaru: They said they wanted the new chief manager to start before the New Year. I wonder what kinda person it'll be.

Haruka Isumi: Doesn't matter who it is. No one's taking the reins from us.

Minami Natsume: Oh, so you're already waging war against them.

Torao Mido: Can't say I don't relate. We've come too far to become Tsukumo's little puppets now.

Toma Inumaru: Gotta protect our style and our turf.

Haruka Isumi: Hmph! We're not gonna bend that easy!

ŹOOĻ: ........

Haruka's Thoughts: What if it's someone scary..?

Toma's Thoughts: What if it's an even bigger weirdo than Ryo-san..?

Torao's Thoughts: What if we're not gonna get along..?

Minami's Thoughts: The others seem very shaken up, as much as they'd like to pretend otherwise.

[Knock knock]

???: May I come in?

Haruka Isumi: They're here! What do we do!?

Toma Inumaru: Haru, sit in the middle of the sofa! Spread your legs all high and mighty like!

Haruka Isumi: Like this!?

Torao Mido: No, go stand at the front! Strike an imposing pose! Go!

Haruka Isumi: Imposing!?

Torao Mido: You're a kid, so you can get away with it! Now go!

Haruka Isumi: Seriously!?

[Knock knock]

???: Excuse me. May I come in now?

Haruka Isumi: ...Uh... No? We need you to wait outside some more.

???: I'm coming in.

Haruka Isumi: Why!?

Minami Natsume: This person seems very forceful.

Torao Mido: Yeah, seriously.

Toma Inumaru: ...I've got a real bad feeling about this.

[Door opens]

Shiro Utsugi: It's very nice to meet you. I'm Shiro Utsugi, from Tsukumo Productions.

Shiro Utsugi: I'm ŹOOĻ's upcoming chief manager.

Shiro Utsugi: It's a pleasure to be working with you all.

Haruka Isumi: .......

Torao Mido: .......

Minami Natsume: .......

Toma Inumaru: N-nice to... Ow! 

Haruka Isumi: Not yet.

Torao Mido: Too early!

Minami Natsume: We should observe the situation some more.

Haruka Isumi: Hmph, Utsugi-san, was it?

Shiro Utsugi: Thank you for memorizing my name so quickly, Isumi-san. You may also call me Shiro, if you prefer.

Torao Mido: ...He's coming on real strong.

Minami Natsume: ...So he is.

Haruka Isumi: ...No, thanks! You're only here because the higher ups told you to come, anyway.

Shiro Utsugi: Of course I'm not. Even among Tsukumo's long, rich history, you are one of their greatest breakout hits in years.

Shiro Utsugi: I could not be more honored to work with you. I'm very happy to be here.

Shiro Utsugi: Now if you don't mind, I'll continue my self-introduction. I'm 35 years old, 178 centimeters tall, single, and my favorite type of food is anything with fish.

Shiro Utsugi: Ever since graduating, I've been working overseas in one of the offices that belong to Tsukumo's parent company.

Shiro Utsugi: However, when Ryo-kun was made president, I was made to fly back here...

Toma Inumaru: You know Ryo-san?

Shiro Utsugi: Well... I wouldn't quite call us childhood friends, but we've known each other for a long time.

Shiro Utsugi: I can't say we got along particularly well, either...

Haruka Isumi: I bet...

Shiro Utsugi: As you know, much has happened this past December. That is also when I got a call from Ryo-kun.

Shiro Utsugi: He wanted to leave ŹOOĻ in my care. It surprised me as much as it probably surprises you. He must've cared about you a great deal.

Toma Inumaru: ...About us?

Shiro Utsugi: Yes. He's quite unpleasant, no?

Minami Natsume: Yes.

Haruka Isumi: Hey, hold on..! We can't say that for sure.

Shiro Utsugi: He's a terrible person. He used his company's talents for selfish revenge, only to crash and burn.

Shiro Utsugi: But, in the end, he did care for you. I plan to meet the expectations he's placed on me.

Minami Natsume: ...I see. So you're here on his request.

Shiro Utsugi: I've heard all about you. Even before that, I was keeping an eye on your work out of pure interest.

Shiro Utsugi: Ryo-kun told me you're extremely wary of people, yet easy to trick.

Torao Mido: ...And what do you think now that you've finally met us in person?

Shiro Utsugi: Some of his descriptions of you I completely understand, while others still elude me.

Shiro Utsugi: I don't expect you to trust me in a day. Let's take our time.

Shiro Utsugi: Now, did you have any questions?

Haruka Isumi: .......

Torao Mido: .......

Minami Natsume: .......

Toma Inumaru: What... kinda work do you wanna do with us?

Shiro Utsugi: Something that'll appease both your and your fans' wishes.

Shiro Utsugi: You've had to force yourselves into things more than enough by now, so I don't plan to make you do anything you don't want. I think you're appealing enough as is.

Shiro Utsugi: Though if there's one thing I'd like, it's to get you to BorW again next year.

Minami Natsume: You want us to win the grand prize of the idol category..?

Shiro Utsugi: I want you to win the grand prize of the whole event. I'm sure you can do it. You're very cool, with a talent for both singing and dancing.

Haruka Isumi: .......

Haruka's Thoughts: He's praising us a lot...

Toma's Thoughts: He's so nice...

Torao's Thoughts: Maybe he's not a bad guy, after all...

Minami's Thoughts: Now I'm even more suspicious of him...

Shiro Utsugi: Did you want to ask anything else? If not, then... Ah, but first.

Toma Inumaru: W-what is it... sir?

Torao Mido: Don't lose yet. Get too polite with him and you're done for.

Toma Inumaru: Whaddaya want?

Shiro Utsugi: Haha, relax. I don't bite. I just genuinely like you guys a lot.

Haruka Isumi: N-now he's the one getting all casual with us.

Shiro Utsugi: You've had to deal with Ryo-kun up until now. How could you be scared of little old me?

Minami Natsume: We're not scared.  

Shiro Utsugi: That's good to hear. I can't let you in on the details just yet,  but there's going to be big happenings  in the entertainment world this upcoming  year.

Toma Inumaru: Happenings?

Shiro Utsugi: Specifically, in the idol industry. Ryo-kun did raise quite a bit of commotion before he left, after all.

Shiro Utsugi: In order to regain our trust, we'll have to make moves across the entire industry. Though all of this should be kept off record for now.

Shiro Utsugi: We'll need good connections to make it in the entertainment world from now on.

Shiro Utsugi: On that note, I need you to do something...

Shiro Utsugi: Please go drop by at Takanashi Produtions.

Haruka Isumi: Takanashi Productions? You mean IDOLiSH7's agency?

Shiro Utsugi: Precisely. Your schedules should be open on the day I need you to go, and you'll even get a little reward for it if you do.

Shiro Utsugi: What do you think?

Toma Inumaru: I don't mind...

Shiro Utsugi: Thank you. And the others?

Haruka Isumi: Well, if Toma's going...

Torao Mido: If Haruka and Toma are going...

Minami Natsume: If the others are all going...

Shiro Utsugi: Thank you. I'll be there as well, so let's all enjoy their New Year's party together.

Shiro Utsugi: Well then, please excuse me.

ŹOOĻ: ........

ŹOOĻ: That was nerveracking...

- - - -

Banri Ogami: ...That's enough for now!

Rinto Okazaki: Phew..! I'm so tired..!

Kaoru Anesagi: I can barely stand! I don't know how you can still keep dancing, Takanashi-san, Ogami-san...

Tsumugi Takanashi: I do muscle training regularly!

Banri Ogami: And I sometimes join MEZZO" for their lessons! What about you, Utsugi-san?

Shiro Utsugi: I...

Shiro Utsugi: I'm not sure I can keep going for much longer.

Kaoru Anesagi: Neither can I...

Shiro Utsugi: My age must be getting the best of me... All this moving around is making me realize just how incredible our idols truly are.

Rinto Okazaki: Me, too! They're really something! And Kinako-chan is working just as hard!

Kinako: Myu myu~!

Banri Ogami: Sir, are you feeling alright?

Otoharu Takanashi: ...I'm...

Otoharu Takanashi: ...Fine...

Banri Ogami: You don't look fine at all! You can barely talk!

Otoharu Takanashi: Thi... this is... my first... full rehearsal...

Tsumugi Takanashi: Why don't you go rest in the corner for a while?

Otoharu Takanashi: ...I told Yaotome-kun... that I'd film us... and send him the video so... I could brag about it...

Kaoru Anesagi: President Takanashi, you're acting like a schoolboy with a grudge...

Banri Ogami: I suppose we could all use a break. If anyone needs a drink, I'll go get something.

Rinto Okazaki: We've all got our own water bottles, so we should be fine. Let's go sit down over there.

Kaoru Anesagi: Heh. You want us to sit in a circle? I haven't done anything like this since my school days.

Shiro Utsugi: I wonder where the end of the circle will be... Where would you like to sit, President Takanashi?

Banri Ogami: I don't know if this person's being rude or polite...

Otoharu Takanashi: I... I'm... fine sitting... anywhere...

Banri Ogami: Then let's all form a circle around the president..

Otoharu Takanashi: W-why me..? Hey, Banri-kun... Don't treat me like I'm a zoo animal...

Banri Ogami: I-I'm not! I thought it'd make you feel like our chief!

Kinako: Myu myu~!

Otoharu Takanashi: Come here, Kinako. I'll be fine if I get to rest up with you...

Tsumugi Takanashi: Oh, Dad...

Shiro Utsugi: You were the best Sogo Osaka you could've been.

Shiro Utsugi: You must've had a rough time with Riku Nanase's role too, Takanashi-san.

Tsumugi Takanashi: Well... It certainly puts a bit of pressure on me to be the center.

Tsumugi Takanashi:  Did you have a hard time playing Mitsuki-san's part?

Shiro Utsugi: I suppose. You can't dance like him without being especially energetic, so I had to wring out all the youthfulness in me.

Banri Ogami: Perhaps we should've swapped your and Okazaki-san's roles?

Rinto Okazaki: As a fellow glasses wearer, I'm afraid I can't let Yamato-kun’s  role go to someone else.

Kaoru Anesagi: Hehe, now you're just being silly.  

Kaoru Anesagi: ...This feels weird. I never thought I'd be in Takanashi Productions' lesson room, sitting in a circle on the floor.

Rinto Okazaki: Though we see each other often at work, we rarely get a chance to talk properly.

Shiro Utsugi: May I ask how the rest of you ended up in this line of work?

Tsumugi Takanashi: I'd like to know, too. Why did you become a manager, Anesagi-san?

Kaoru Anesagi: I have two older sisters. They're both beautiful and stylish, with a passion for fashion.

Rinto Okazaki: If I remember correctly, your sisters...

Kaoru Anesagi: ...Did amateur modeling, yes. Though just for a short while.

Banri Ogami: I had no idea!

Shiro Utsugi: It's no wonder. Beauty must run in the family.

Kaoru Anesagi: Hey, I don't want someone from Tsukumo sweet talking to me.

Shiro Utsugi: I know our company doesn't have the most honest reputation, but I'm being sincere here. This is just how I personally feel.

Kaoru Anesagi: ...Then again, I suppose it doesn't feel bad to receive compliments, even from you.

Shiro Utsugi: I'm glad to hear that.

Kaoru Anesagi: In any case, hearing stories from my sisters is what made me want to work in the entertainment industry.

Kaoru Anesagi: It's so beautiful, brilliant, harsh, and relentless, yet gentle... I was so happy when I first got to work at Yaotome Productions.

Rinto Okazaki: And then you got to be the manager to  the president's son and his idol group. You're really something.

Kaoru Anesagi: Heh. Pretty incredible, huh? What about you, Ogami-san? Based on some of the rumors I've heard, your reason was quite dramatic, was it not?

Banri Ogami: Right... And it's not that I don't want to talk about it, but it is a long story.

Rinto Okazaki: That's true. It's the kind of story that would take one novel, or maybe three volumes of manga to tell...

Banri Ogami: What about you, Okazaki-san? I know your older brother is the president.

Rinto Okazaki: Yes, he is. Rather than having a particular interest in the entertainment world, I wanted to help him with his business.

Tsumugi Takanashi: Your brother must've been very smart, then.

Rinto Okazaki: Oh, not at all. If anything, I was always the smart one, while he was the troublemaker.

Rinto Okazaki: He set up an event company, and then a talent agency... Perhaps because he met Banri-kun and Yuki-kun.

Rinto Okazaki: I once asked my brother why he decided to set up a talent agency.

Kaoru Anesagi: What did he say?

Rinto Okazaki: He said that since we live in an age where being in the public eye and taking responsibility of your actions is getting more and more risky...

Rinto Okazaki: ...It'd be thrilling to work in an industry with lots of young people who are saddled with those risks.

Kaoru Anesagi: ...Oh, gosh... Maybe he does say smart things sometimes. I'm tearing up.

Banri Ogami: Exactly... They're all really, really cool.

Tsumugi Takanashi: It's really nice to hear someone in this business say that, especially someone who's the president of a talent agency.

Rinto Okazaki: His words are what inspired me to get on board. And he wasn't wrong, the entertainment world is indeed very thrilling.

Rinto Okazaki: What about you, Utsugi-san? What inspired you to get into showbusiness?

Shiro Utsugi: ........

Kaoru Anesagi: What, is it something you can't say..?

Shiro Utsugi: No, I was just feeling a bit shy.

Kaoru Anesagi: Shy!?

Shiro Utsugi: My reason is a bit childish, like something you'd hear from a teenage fan.

Shiro Utsugi: I wanted to offer my support to work so hard to shine on stage.

Tsumugi Takanashi: ...I know the feeling... I started out like that, too.

Shiro Utsugi: Started out..? Do you no longer feel that way?

Tsumugi Takanashi: Of course I do. My idols are very dear to me, and I still want to support them. That hasn't changed a bit.

Tsumugi Takanashi: I know we're only training for a small dance number at a New Year's party... But practicing like an idol has only made that feeling stronger.

Tsumugi Takanashi: Real idols must be doing even more difficult and incredible things than this.

Kaoru Anesagi: Right... Just learning how to sing and dance is taxing enough.

Kaoru Anesagi: At least, it should be. Which is why I want to take care of anything else for them.

Kaoru Anesagi: Whether it snows or rains spears, I'll get them to their next venue safe and sound.

Banri Ogami: Same here... I want to keep them safe, if just this once.

Banri Ogami: They have so much talent and so many ambitions. I want to protect them, so they don't get hurt anymore.

Rinto Okazaki: And I want them to smile. Both on and off work. I want to help them be happy.

Tsumugi Takanashi: Right!

Shiro Utsugi: It's so nice to hear this sort of talk. Let's all do our best for the party.

Shiro Utsugi: I was a bit intimidated when I dropped by here to make my introductions, only to be drafted for a musical number...

Tsumugi Takanashi: I'm so sorry about that.

Banri Ogami: So am I.

Shiro Utsugi: But I realize how a group like IDOLiSH7 came out of an agency like this, now.

Tsumugi Takanashi: Utsugi-san...

Shiro Utsugi: Takanashi-san. You're the one who made them into the stars they are, yes?

Tsumugi Takanashi: Y-yes.

Shiro Utsugi: I'm very happy I got to meet you. I look forward to working with you in the future.

Tsumugi Takanashi: I do, too!

Kaoru Anesagi: Alright, break time's over! Do you think you can keep going, President Takanashi?

Otoharu Takanashi: Of course!

Kinako: Myu myu~♪

Rinto Okazaki: Getting to perform for 16 idols is like a dream come true!

Rinto Okazaki: We'll master MONSTER GENERATiON in no time!

All: Yeah! 

- - - -

Tsumugi Takanashi: And before we knew it, the day of the party had arrived. 

- - - -

Gaku Yaotome: Sorry, I need you to heat this up for me.

Yuki: Can you heat this up for me?

Iori Izumi: In case you can't tell, I can only fit two pots or pans on this gas burner!

Yuki: Just take this one off it for a second...

Iori Izumi: Nii-san is about to deep fry the chicken in that!

Gaku Yaotome: This one...

Iori Izumi: Keep special steel at the back of the line!

Mitsuki Izumi: What's going on!? Why is the kitchen so full!?

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: We brought cheese dak-galbi!

Momo: And we brought curry!

Iori Izumi: I'm preparing for the stew and fried chicken.

Mitsuki Izumi: None of these are New Year's foods... Oh well!

[Door opens]

Tamaki Yotsuba: We've got a whole sea bream!

Riku Nanase: We got it from the fish market!

Mitsuki Izumi: Ooh! Now there's something that fits on a New Year's table!

Sogo Osaka: We got one bottle of sacred wine...

Nagi Rokuya: And a bag of sowing beans, to drive away bad spirits!

Gaku Yaotome: Don't you think it's a little early for the beans?

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Are the decorations ready? 

- - - -

Yamato Nikaido: And, done! This should do it!

Yamato Nikaido: Sorry for making you guys help out, too.

Tenn Kujo: I don't mind.

Minami Natsume: Thank you for the invitation.

Torao Mido: Where's IDOLiSH7's manager? Y'know, the girl with the fluffy hair.

Yamato Nikaido: Off somewhere with Banri-san.

Toma Inumaru: Maybe they're planning a surprise?

Haruka Isumi: A suprise?

Tenn Kujo: Like making kusudama or mochi pounding sets for all of us.

Haruka Isumi: I like kusudama! I've never gotten to pull one open!

Mitsuki Izumi: Food's ready!

Tamaki Yotsuba: Yeaf, foofs reafy!

Riku Nanase: Foofs reafy!

Yamato Nikaido: Tama, Riku, no sneaking food from the table!

Toma Inumaru: Curry and fried chicken! What a feast!

Torao Mido: What, no zouni soup? I thought this was a New Year's party.

Yuki: The curry turned out great, though.

Yamato Nikaido: Sure looks like it.

Mitsuki Izumi: I tried some, and it was amazing!

Nagi Rokuya: This stew is delicious! It has beef, and a hint of sweetness.

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Sogo-kun, this dish is nice and spicy!

Sogo Osaka: It looks great! Do you like this dish, Tsunashi-san?

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: It's not for me, it's for Anesagi-sa...

Otoharu Takanashi: Ladies and gentlemen!

All: .......!

Haruka Isumi: W-who was that!?

Iori Izumi: I believe that would be the president of our agency...

Otoharu Takanashi: Happy New Year!

All: .........

Momo: Happy New Year!

Gaku Yaotome: Ah... Happy New Year.

Toma Inumaru: Happy...

Otoharu Takanashi: All together, now! Give it another try! Go!

All: Happy...

Otoharu Takanashi: Happy New... Ah, wait, you're supposed to say it after me...

Momo: Why do I feel like I'm watching a newbie MC flail around on their first job ever...

Yuki: The first time's always the hardest.

Otoharu Takanashi: Happy New Year!

All: Happy New Year!

Otoharu Takanashi: Thank you for this past year! We hope to have another good one with you, so...

Otoharu Takanashi: We'll sing to you!

Yamato Nikaido: You're kidding, right?

Mitsuki Izumi: Wow, our president's really something..!!! But who's "we", anyway!?

Sogo Osaka: Banri-san, and...

Tamaki Yotsuba: Our manager!?

Riku Nanase: Even our manager!? Iori, did you know about this?

Iori Izumi: O-of course not.

Nagi Rokuya: Wow! What an extraordinary surprise!

Tenn Kujo: Come to think of it, Anesagi-san is nowhere to be found...

Yuki: Nor is Okarin.

Toma Inumaru: Nor is our manager...

Otoharu Takanashi: Please sit down and listen to...

Otoharu Takanashi: MONSTER GENERATiON! 

- - - -

Rinto Okazaki: ......! The intro is playing!

Banri Ogami: Let's go, let's go! You first, Anesagi-san, then our president!

Otoharu Takanashi: Okay! Let's give this our all!

Kaoru Anesagi: Right! But I'm already getting butterflies!

Tsumugi Takanashi: So am I!

Shiro Utsugi: So am I. Ah, why don't we do something first?

Kaoru Anesagi: Do what?

Rinto Okazaki: Yes, what?

Shiro Utsugi: Put all our hands together, and...

Tsumugi Takanashi: Form a circle! Let's do it!

Banri Ogami: Alright, now for a cheer from our president!

Otoharu Takanashi: Very well! I'm a bit nervous, myself. Ahem, uh...

Kinako: Myu myu!!!

Tsumugi, Banri, Kaoru, Rinto, & Shiro: Yeah!

Otoharu Takanashi: Hey, Kinako..! 

- - - -

Tsumugi's Thoughts: As we ran out to the tune of the song, we could see everyone's faces.

Tsumugi's Thoughts: Some of them looked shocked, some were laughing, some even looked concerned...

Tsumugi's Thoughts: Because of their expressions, I nearly burst out laughing, went completely red in the face, and felt my heart beat even faster...

Tsumugi's Thoughts: But I still danced just like I'd practiced, to the best of my abilities.

Yamato Nikaido: Ahaha! You're so cute, manager!

Iori Izumi: J-just try not to fall over...

Gaku Yaotome: Ahaha! This is amazing!

Gaku Yaotome: Am I right, Nanase?

Riku Nanase: Yeah...

Tsumugi's Thoughts: Having their eyes on me made me nervously focus on remembering my parts of the song and dance.

Tsumugi's Thoughts: It was all I could do just to keep up. But it was so much fun.

Tsumugi's Thoughts: They must've all felt the same way. No, even better.

Tsumugi's Thoughts: They got to stand in the spotlights of a huge stage, while a crowd of people cheered them on.

Tsumugi's Thoughts: They only had that moment to dance, and they made the most of it.

Tsumugi's Thoughts: It was incredible.

Tsumugi's Thoughts: I loved it.

Tsumugi's Thoughts: With each awkward step, I felt more and more joy that I could work with the people I admired so much.

Tenn Kujo: Anesagi-san, you're incredible!

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Incredible and stylish!

Momo: Ban-san, you're so cool!!! Waaaaahhh...

Yuki: M-Momo, don't cry... Okarin, give us some fanservice!

Tamaki Yotsuba: Gimme some, too!

Tamaki Yotsuba: Whoa! That guy I don't know gave me some! I'll totally be his fan now! Who is he, anyway!?

Haruka Isumi: T-that's our manager...

Toma Inumaru: Was he already buddies with the managers from all the other agencies..?

Torao Mido: That rabbit is amazing! It's dancing to the song with everyone  else! Look, Minami.

Minami Natsume: ...I'm sorry... But since I was bitten by a rabbit, I don't like them very much...

Riku Nanase: Kinako doesn't bite anyone! Look! She's giving you fanservice!

Kinako: Myu myu~♪

Tenn Kujo: Not bad.

Sogo Osaka: Wow! Our manager, Banri-san, and even the president are all dancing!

Mitsuki Izumi: Ahaha! This is so much fun..! Happy New Year!

Nagi Rokuya: Happy New Year!

Toma Inumaru: Happy New Year! And great job!

[Applause]

Tsumugi's Thoughts: The song ended, and as I gasped for air, I looked over at our audience again.

Tsumugi's Thoughts: Their kind smiles warmed my heart thoroughly.

Tsumugi's Thoughts: I never knew the sight they saw from their stage was this wonderful.

Tsumugi's Thoughts: I laughed bashfully, and just as I was going to speak out to them...

Tsumugi's Thoughts: Okazaki-san started the song back up again.

Rinto Okazaki: This time, we'll all dance together!

Toma Inumaru: Wait, right now!?

Gaku Yaotome: Sounds good to me! Let's dance!

Otoharu Takanashi: ...Huh!? I... I don't know if I still can...

Banri Ogami: Ahaha! Go rest up, sir. Momo-kun, get over here!

Momo: Waaaahhh!!!

Yuki: Stop making Momo cry!

Kaoru Anesagi: Hehe, I wasn't a half bad dancer, was I?

Tenn Kujo: You were great. Next, you can dance with me...

Riku Nanase: Tenn-nii, let's dance together! I'll teach you all the moves!

Tenn Kujo: Just who do you think you're talking to? I probably have them memorized better than you.

Kaoru Anesagi: Oh, Tenn. There's no hiding that happy look on your face, you know.

Nagi Rokuya: Hi, girl. Did you enjoy dancing in my stead?

Kaoru Anesagi: Nagi-kun..!!!

Nagi Rokuya: You were very talented. You danced as if you were my shadow itself.

Kaoru Anesagi: Gosh... I'm so happy... I mean, no I'm not! I really don't care either way!

Torao Mido: Sogo, doesn't your dance go like this?

Sogo Osaka: That's right. Ah... but your wrist should move more like this.

Torao Mido: Like this?

Sogo Osaka: Yes, like that.

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Let me join in, too. We can all dance together!

Sogo Osaka: T-Tsunashi-san!

Torao Mido: Yo, Ryunosuke.

Sogo Osaka: You call him by his first name despite being younger than him?

Torao Mido: Doesn't your unit partner call him "Ryu-aniki", despite being younger than all of us?

Sogo Osaka: He at least adds the "aniki" suffix to the end...

Torao Mido: And you think that's an acceptable honorific?

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Stop fighting! Let's all joing hands, make a circle, and dance together!

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Oh? Whose hand is this?

Shiro Utsugi: Hello there. I must say, having the Ryunosuke Tsunashi hold my hand is making my heart race more than is appropriate for a man my age.

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Huh!? Um...

Torao Mido: That's our manager, by the way.

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Oh! It's nice to meet you.

Kinako: Myu myu myu~♪

Iori, Tamaki, & Haruka: Say!

Kinako: Myu myu myu~♪

Iori, Tamaki, & Haruka: Shout!

Yamato Nikaido: Amazing..!

Mitsuki Izumi: She's singing..!

Kinako: Myu♪

Iori, Tamaki, & Haruka: High!

Kinako: Myu♪

Iori, Tamaki, & Haruka: High!

Yamato Nikaido: And she's doing it perfectly..!

Mitsuki Izumi: The whole thing..!

Otoharu Takanashi: Huff, huff... Ahaha!

Minami Natsume: Are you alright, President Takanashi? Let me get you a glass of water...

Otoharu Takanashi: Ah, thank you. So, you're scared of rabbits?

Minami Natsume: You overheard our conversation?

Otoharu Takanashi: They have very strong teeth, so it must've hurt. But you don't have to worry about our Kinako.

Otoharu Takanashi: If you ever feel like making friends with a rabbit, you can come over to play with her anytime.

Minami Natsume: President Takanashi... I will. Thank you for the invitation.

Minami Natsume: And thank you for the wonderful surprise.

Otoharu Takanashi: I'm glad you liked it. I know we're only drinking   water, but... Cheers.

Minami Natsume: Cheers.

Tenn Kujo: ...Ahaha! Nice one, Riku.

Riku Nanase: Thanks!

Tenn Kujo: The song is almost over. I'll need you to be our MC.

Riku Nanase: Okay!

Riku Nanase: I want to wish you all a Happy New Year one more time!

All: Happy New Year!

Riku Nanase: I want to keep this monster generation going for another year with all of you!

Tenn Kujo: Me too.

Yuki: Damn straight.

Haruka Isumi: We'll beat you next time!

Shiro Utsugi: ...It's the start of a new era, after all.

Riku Nanase: Everyone!

Riku Nanase: Let's have a good year together!

All: Yeah! 

The End.

[onestowatch]

The Top 21 Artists to Watch in 2021

In a world where the only universal certainty seems to be opening every email with “hope you’re doing well,” the only other surefire guarantee is that there will continue to be new music worth discovering. And, we figured with the start of a new year, what better way to say to spend the waking hours of 2021 than introduce you to a few of the artists we currently have a close eye on. Often genreless and belonging to Gen Z, these are the 21 artists we are watching in 2021. 

spill tab

Where to Start: “Calvaire” 

In her breakout single “Calvaire,” spill tab sings in French over an intoxicating backbeat. The effect is akin to a spell, ushering into existence something inherently danceable and transfixing, like an Angèle B-side finding new life as a Billie Eilish cut. It is a standout moment that would be followed by similar standout moments in the form of a series of varied singles, culminating in spill tab’s debut EP, Oatmilk. Short and sweet, the four-song collection holds all the promise of a 2021 artist to watch.

Joesef

Where to Start: “The Sun Is Up Forever”

Emerging from the fog of Glasgow, Scotland, Joesef’s marriage of heartbreak, desire, regret, hope, and sublime joy is nothing short of intoxicating. Immediately making an impression with his tender, heartfelt croon, the Glasgow artist’s songs soon give way to emotionally rife personal recollections–some beautiful in their understated minimalism, some breathtaking in their expansive scope. Whatever the setting, the result is always the same–a passionate, shared moment you will not be forgetting anytime soon.

brakence

Where to Start: “dropout”

Self-described as “self-care punk,” brakence effortlessly pairs the unmatched energy of punk with an impressive showing of vulnerability. While the past few years saw the Ohio native experiment over a range of singles and on his debut album, 2020 was without a doubt the year he found his sound in the noteworthy punk2. Blending Midwest emo, trap production, hip-hop, and alternative, brakence’s sophomore effort is a masterclass in infectious emotional catharsis.

Mustafa

Where to Start: “Stay Alive”

Few artists embody the sentiment of music as poetry as emphatically as Mustafa. First leaving a mark with 2020’s “Stay Alive,” Mustafa introduced himself to the world with a breathtaking, earth-shattering ballad rife with impassioned emotional imagery. Soft-spoken but never lacking for impact, the poet, activist, filmmaker, and songwriter brings to life the lived realities of Toronto’s Regent Park, a public housing project that shaped Mustafa into the once in a lifetime artist he is today.

Holly Humberstone

Where to Start: “Falling Asleep At The Wheel”

In her 2020 debut EP, Falling Asleep at the Wheel, Holly Humberstone proves herself a master at crafting a palpable atmosphere. Rife with emotional highs and cathartic lows, all backed by Humberstone’s magnetic and graceful songwriting, the British artist lays her heart on her sleeve and in turn lays the groundwork for a debut offering poised to stand the test of time. It is no mere hyperbole to say that Humberstone is an artist to watch out for not only in 2021 but in the years to come.

AG Club

Where to Start: “Memphis”

The initial comparison of AG Club to collectives like BROCKHAMPTON and A$AP may be an easy one to draw, but a single listen tells another story. While the genreless Bay Area collective may radiate the same rapturous energy of the aforementioned groups, AG Club is clearly riding high on their own wavelength. Aiming to make hip-hop but not as you know it, the idiosyncratic collective made their vision clear with the release of 2020’s Halfway Off the Porch, an electrifying amalgamation of disparate genres, sights, sounds, and moods.

347aidan

Where to Start: “Dancing in My Room”

Euphoric, difficult to perfectly define, and haphazardly brilliant, aidan347 embodies the adventurousness and inventiveness of Gen Z. The project of 17-year-old Aidan Fuller, the Cambridge, Ontario native has spent the past five years making music. Yet at the beginning of 2020, the Cambridge artist had less than three thousand monthly listeners; now, that number sits well above five million. A testament to 347aidan’s tenacity, his devoted fanbase, and the power of a TikTok-fueled viral hit–arriving in the form of “Dancing in My Room”–it really feels we are only witnessing the prologue of what’s to come.

Frances Forever

Where to Start: “Space Girl”

When thinking of music’s future stars, what better place to look than to the galactic, lovelorn musings of Frances Forever. Making less of a splash and more of a tidal wave with the release of “Space Girl” late last year, the Boston bedroom artist’s ode to intergalactic love has been rapidly climbing the TikTok and indie charts. Now signed to Mom+Pop records, Frances Forever is more than ready to shoot for the stars and beyond in 2021.

Hope Tala

Where to Start: “Lovestained”

Hope Tala is impossible to ignore. A West Londoner to her core, the UK singer-songwriter finds inspiration in everything from ‘90s movies, classic literature, to the constantly changing world around her. Transforming what feels like a lifetime, and some, of inspiration into an undeniably spellbinding fusion of R&B and bossa nova, Hope Tala’s musings of daydreams, heartache, and fear are the sort ready to define a generation’s ails, joys, and mundane triumphs and anxieties. Universal in scope yet deeply personal, Hope Tala is without doubt an artist to keep your eye on in 2021. 

Q

Where to Start: “Take Me Your Heart Is”

Q, much like his name, is an anomaly. Releasing one album a year since 2018, the ineffable soul and R&B artist has somehow coasted under the radar in spite of releasing some of the most breathtaking music out there. And with the release of 2020’s The Shave Experiment, Q feels like he’s finally stepping into the much-deserved limelight. Leading with the striking “Take Me Your Heart Is,” Q brought to life a nostalgic, hyper-emotive track sure to stop you in your tracks. Hopefully, it’s one of many to come. 

Claire Rosinkranz

Where to Start: “Backyard Boy”

16-year-old Claire Rosinkranz has been making music for the better part of her life, and 2020 was the year that scribbling down lyrics and helping her father compose music for TV shows and ad jingles paid off in a major way. The California native’s single, “Backyard Boy,” taken from her debut EP, BeVerly Hills BoYfRiEnd, soon became a TikTok hit, racking up over 80 million streams to date, on Spotify alone. If there are two things to look out for in 2021, make sure it’s your mental wellbeing and Claire’s euphoric self-dubbed “alternative-blues-pop.”

KennyHoopla

Where to Start: “how will i rest in peace if i'm buried by a highway?//”

KennyHoopla is nothing if not electrifying. The alternative, punk, and ‘80s new wave-evoking artist moves through each track with a sense of world-ending hunger, jumping from one ensuing mosh pit to the next. It is a balancing act of new wave nostalgia and genuine inventive alternative that results in a maelstrom of palpable excitement. To best experience this cathartic form of self-expression firsthand, look no further than his debut EP, last year’s how will i rest in peace if i'm buried by a highway?//. No one is quite making music like KennyHoopla, in 2021 or beyond.

MICHELLE

Where to Start: “THE BOTTOM”

New York collective MICHELLE deftly imbues the sincerity of soul and R&B into a uniquely tender pop outlook, and the result is nothing short of infectious. The project of six predominantly queer POC individuals, the group originally earned widespread critical acclaim for their 2018 album HEATWAVE, but it was arguably their subsequent signing with Atlantic Records last year that has them set to be one of 2021’s most promising acts. Quickly making the most of their newfound major label status, MICHELLE released “Sunrise,” the sonic equivalent of the first rays of light breaking through the clouds, signaling the end of a rainy day. It’s safe to say the future is looking bright for MICHELLE.

glaive

Where to Start: “eyesore”

Few artists define and defy the label of hyperpop as readily as glaive. Falling somewhere between 100 gecs and the second coming of mid-2000s pop punk, the newly-signed Interscope artist released his major debut label EP, cypress grove, earlier this year. Yet before finding a home at Interscope, glaive’s official discography only stretched back as far as 2020. Making the most of a year we all would rather soon forget, the 15-year-old wunderkind showcased to the world a continual musical evolution that is looking to only further pick up steam in the coming year.

Claud

Where to Start: “Wish You Were Gay”

From opening for Clairo to releasing a steady stream of resonant singles, Claud has spent the last couple of years making a name for themselves in the indie music world, but 2020 saw arguably their biggest breakthrough moment yet. With the release of “Gold,” Claud became the first artist signed to Phoebe Bridgers’ Saddest Factory Records. Arriving as the first taste of their upcoming debut album, Super Monster, 2021 is looking absolutely golden for Claud. And not to mention the fact they recently started a band with Clairo and friends.

María Isabel

Where to Start: “The 1”

Where has María Isabel been all our lives? First making herself known with the release of “The 1,” an ode to long-distance relationships, which soon became more prophetic than we ever could have imagined, the debut single served as lovely an introduction as they come. Thankfully, we would not have to wait too long to hear more dreamlike R&B from María, who graced us with her debut EP, Stuck in the Sky shortly thereafter. Uniquely heartfelt and velvety smooth, María’s voice is just the thing to carry you through 2021.

Remi Wolf

Where to Start: “Photo ID”

The past couple of years have seen avant-garde pop wunderkind Remi Wolf test the waters with one out of this world single after another, and 2020 felt like the year everything finally fell into place. Arriving on the Bay Area native’s sophomore album, I’m Allergic To Dogs!, “Photo ID,” and its unafraid, in your face anti pop mentality cemented itself as a surefire hit, and TikTok soon took notice. Serving as a testament to Remi Wolf’s mainstream appeal in spite of her outsider approach, “Photo ID” merely set the stage for what is to come.  

PawPaw Rod

Where to Start: “HIT EM WHERE IT HURTS”

PawPaw Rod may be the only artist on this list with only one single to their name, but in no way does that disqualify him from being an artist to watch in 2021. Releasing his debut single, “HIT EM WHERE IT HURTS,” out into the ether, the Los Angeles artist immediately landed on something special. Blending elements of hip-hop, funk, and alternative under a mellow, syrupy flow, PawPaw Rod wasted no time in setting himself apart from the pack. And with godmode–the same development company that brought us Yaeji, Channel Tres, LoveLeo, and more–it is safe to say that this is only the beginning.

Evann Mcintosh

Where to Start: “WIYULD”

In her dreamlike take on alternative R&B, Evann Mcintosh attempts to capture the turbulent act of coming-of-age. At times delicate to the touch and at times emanating a self-assured confidence well beyond her 16 years of age, Evann Mcintosh’s 2019 debut album, MOJO, laid the groundwork for an act whose promise knows no bounds. It was a promise she made good on during the tail end of 2020, with the release of singles “WIYULD” and “BULL$HIT.” Showing off two different sides of her continued musical growth, 2021 has us all the more excited for what Evann has in store.

Serena Isioma

Where to Start: “Sensitive”

In her breakout single, “Sensitive,” Serena Isioma fuses modern-day R&B and woozy indie pop with reckless abandon. The outcome is a song that not only sounds quite unlike anything else out there, but one whose own vibe seems to shift and evolve from one moment to the next. It is an electrifying opening moment that begins to define the Isioma’s artistry and her debut EP, Sensitive. The first of two EPs the Chicago-based artist would release in 2020, it is hard not to feel like Isioma is already in the process of creating a one-of-a-kind discography.

Blu DeTiger

Where to Start: “Figure It Out”

Whether you know her as the touring bassist for acts like FLETCHER and Caroline Polachek or as the TikTok famous bassist, the fact of the matter is that Blu DeTiger is an artist you need to know. A bassist since age seven and crowned the “coolest DJ around” by Vogue, the New York native’s music skirts the realms of funk, indie, and dance. Unmistakable, nonchalantly cool, and unsurprisingly bass-heavy, you deserve doing yourself the favor of diving headfirst into Blu DeTiger’s music. Just be sure to come up for air, when you’re ready.

[optimistic-dinosaur-nacho]

The Door

Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: Sleep Paralysis, Dark, non-consent touch, Somnophilia (Non-Smut you’ll know why) Summary: As an apprentice scientist at the Avengers Tower, you’ve became friends with one of the Avengers who knows you more than you know yourself. With a sleeping condition, you were too tired to close your door. And left it opened for an unwanted guest.

A/N: Okay, for those who may be freaking out, I’m not doing 18+. This is completely clean but it is dark. I suggest you don’t do this or not read if this triggers you. 

Being up this early in a big city, it wasn’t your favorite thing in the world for you. Having a well-paid job, it was such a huge dedication to you. After years of engineering and building technology, you wanted to be like your boss. Him and his team always walked around the building most of the time. A couple months, you don’t see them a lot. This was technically their home. Their rooms were built in here while you rent at an apartment in downtown Brooklyn. 

It was small and the landlord never bothered you a lot unless you ran into him in the halls. 

You met a couple of the team in the building. Dr. Banner, you met him everyday, he was your assistance to becoming less of  an apprentice. He always thought you were smart with your work. Every idea came from you and Banner liked when you came up with new tech. 

Tony was your boss but for someone like him, you meet him once a month. You thought today you were more tired than before. It reminded you that it was getting worse.

“Morning, Miss L/N,” You hear a friend call to you.

Other than being around Banner, the first avenger was the one to walk up to you at a party that Tony arranged for his co-workers. His gentle smile and blue crystal eyes looking at you.

It was like looking at your school crush years ago.

“Captain,” You respond, holding your clipboard closer to your chest and adjusted your white coat. He pulls the corner of his lips into a grin, “I see you’re early up.” You followed his gaze to see the clock that was 6 in the morning. You nod, “Yeah. I just realized I had unfinished business.”

Steve’s brows twitched into concern. The concern that made you realize you might’ve said too much of yourself to him. During that party, you might’ve too a couple drinks and your mind just makes you admit a lot of things no one knows about you.

You knew what you said to him. You were lucky to have him not bother you too much, he never pushed things too far with you. He always kept his distance. You sighed, “I guess I didn’t get enough sleep last night,” You let out a laugh. Steve looks up and down at you. Out of concern he did.

“Have you spoken to your docto-”

You cut him off before he could finish, “Captain, I’m okay, really.” Steve’s lips close firmly and he breathes out through his nose. His fingers curling slightly to reach for your hair, skin. Some sign of reassurance. “Is there anything I could do?” He asked, you shook your head and turned away from him. 

“I should go. It was really nice to see you, Captain. Say hi to the others for me?” You say, Steve couldn’t help but nod and grin softly.

After that you made your way to the lab. Bruce made you do some research, test some things over the monitors and checked in with Tony on the comm. Friday gave out the results every once in a while. You made some successful projects, some may have blown in your face a couple times but it was all good.

You hadn’t seen Steve since that morning, you went to the large room with the couches and kitchen, making yourself some coffee since you never gotten one on your way over.

Steve knew a lot about you since that party, well, after that party, you two just started to talk more. It was usually when you meet in the hall or in the morning like you did this morning. He knew about your conditions at home. The insomnia was a problem because you had sleep paralysis since you were a kid. It gotten worse over the time. It usually could last for several minutes that felt like an hour. 

You start to panic. Words couldn’t come out like someone had ripped your tongue out. As a kid, you couldn’t see anything. Your eyes felt like they were taped shut, but you could feel something around you. You could move your head, toes, fingers, but you couldn’t move your body off the bed. No twists or turns, no jerks or anything. You’re frozen on the spot like rocks holding you down, thinking you’re going to eventually suffocate in your mattress. 

You hear Bruce come in with his board and his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

“Okay, we have a change of plans,” He says.

You turn to him and furrowed your brows. He peers up at you, “You mind if I keep you another 5 hours? You’ll be home by nine.” You were tired enough already. Especially drinking coffee that had way too many shots. But you were in it for more money. This is why you loved your job but hated to get home late.

“Yeah, sure.”

Banner nods, “I’ll give you another 10 minutes. Meet me down at the lab.” With a nod, Banner heads back to the elevator as you enjoyed your cup of coffee. Feeling a bit worried, you took another cup of coffee to-go. You met up with Banner once again and you both went back to work. Doing the same things since you got there, you burned your finger, but you managed to bandage it up.

Bruce eventually led you off and you were off at 10.

Jesus Christ. It felt like you hadn’t slept in a week, your eyes are burning, urging to blind your vision of driving. Luckily your home wasn’t far from the Tower and you parked your car, jumping out tiredly as you made your way to the door and up the stairs. The elevators in the building were broken due to one of the fire breakouts in one of the rooms. They shut them down and suggested to rebuild them again.

You weakly reached in for your key and unlocked your apartment. Greeted by your welcome home scent of candles. Dropping your keys on the table along with your bag and coat. You stolen a small snack from the fridge and ate that toward your room. 

Kicking your shoes off, you tossed your clothes off. Your window facing out toward the city, your faint light of your lamp lit only half of your room as you undressed and threw on a shirt and plopped onto your bed. You reached for the switch of your lamp and looked over to see your bedroom door open.

Your eyes and legs began to disagree with you so you turned off your lamp and laid down on your bed.

And just like that, you went out.

His hands gently slid the window up, opening it wide enough for his broad shoulders to squeeze in through your apartment room. His heavy footing hit the wooden floor. In uniform, he wanted to be stealth as possible. His thoughts wandered farther than he could’ve questioned himself. 

He watched you from afar. Seeing you limp into your bedroom like a zombie. Your back turned toward the window, he could imagine every curve. His eyes gotten dark the second he saw your room lights on. Your kitchen light was on, your music that was a classic jazz, gently played on the speaker. 

With a gentle touch, he turns off the speaker and hears what might’ve been the shuffle from your bedroom. 

He froze on the spot, thinking the fastest and quiet way to dart for the window but he never heard footsteps. Instead he heard what sounded like faint whimpering. The sound of struggles, he then realized you were awake. 

You were woken up from a bad dream. Once you did, your eyes went heavy and your brain began to function the surroundings. The car sounds and sirens filling your ears, you could hear your air condition whir in the other room. You were awake, but you were stuck.

Your sleep paralysis had begun. 

Your finger tips barely moved, your eyes frantically looking around even though you saw darkness. You whimpered and moved your toes. Then you froze. You stopped moving your fingers and eyes. Knowing where your door was, you could sense someone staring. You breathed out slowly.

“I know you can sense me.”

You stopped breathing to the sound of a deep voice. Your fingers began to twitch more to wake your body up and run from whoever was there. You hear their footsteps come towards you. 

You couldn’t scream, all what came out was groans and whimpers. The intruder shushes you, his hand touches your arm and you shook. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited to see you. So... vulnerable.”

You felt their fingers drag against your arm like some animal they were petting. “You don’t know who I am, do you?” He asked, you shook your head and whimpered. Not answering to his question, you were begging to have him leave. You then felt a heat against your ear, “Take a wild guess, sweetheart.” The familiar words of sweetheart falling from his lips, you realized who called you that during the whole party at the tower.

Steve.

You only turned your head and whimpered. You needed to move your body. Steve grins, darkly, “I know your paralysis could last for several minutes. Even if you woke up now, you’d be scared to even get away from me.” You could  sense that his face was closer to yours. His fingers dragging over your stomach, almost riding up the shirt. 

You then felt his fingers touch your cheek. “You’re so beautiful...” You turned your face away from his hand and whined. You felt tears that you didn’t know you were making, they slid down your cheeks. “So soft...” His hand drags down your thighs and stops at your knees. 

You began to start moving your feet. Your head shook and you let out a whine. You feel the hands pull away and you kept moving your fingertips. Your eyes finally opened and you jumped up from your bed with a huge gasp. You choked out strangle sobs and saw that no one was in your room. Steve was no longer there or someone.

Your brain only made up the things in your sleep paralysis, but it felt too real. That night you tried to sleep on your side instead on your back. Keeping your lamp on, you figured to call in sick for tomorrow.

You then made sure...

You closed the door that night.

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[hlupdate]

Variety’s Grammy-nominated Hitmaker of the Year goes deep on the music industry, the great pause and finding his own muses.

“We’ll dance again,” Harry Styles coos, the Los Angeles sunshine peeking through his pandemic-shaggy hair just so. The singer, songwriter and actor — beloved and critically acclaimed thanks to his life-affirming year-old album, “Fine Line” — is lamenting that his Variety Hitmaker of the Year cover conversation has to be conducted over Zoom rather than in person. Even via videoconference, the Brit is effortlessly charming, as anyone who’s come within earshot of him would attest, but it quickly becomes clear that beneath that genial smile is a well-honed media strategy.

To wit: In an interview that appears a few days later announcing his investment in a new arena in his native Manchester (more on that in a bit), he repeats the refrain — “There will be a time we dance again”— referencing a much-needed return to live music and the promise of some 4,000 jobs for residents.

None of which is to suggest that Styles, 26, phones it in for interviews. Quite the opposite: He does very few, conceivably to give more of himself and not cheapen what is out there and also to use the publicity opportunity to indulge his other interests, like fashion. (Last month Styles became the first male to grace the cover of Vogue solo.) Still, it stings a little that a waltz with the former One Direction member may not come to pass on this album cycle — curse you, coronavirus.

Styles’ isolation has coincided with his maturation as an artist, a thespian and a person. With “Fine Line,” he’s proved himself a skilled lyricist with a tremendous ear for harmony and melody. In preparing for his role in Olivia Wilde’s period thriller “Don’t Worry Darling,” which is shooting outside Palm Springs, he found an outlet for expression in interpreting words on a page. And for the first time, he’s using his megaphone to speak out about social justice — inspired by the outpouring of support for Black people around the world following the death of George Floyd at the hands of Minneapolis police in May.

Styles has spent much of the past nine months at home in London, where life has slowed considerably. The time has allowed him to ponder such heady issues as his purpose on the earth. “It’s been a pause that I don’t know if I would have otherwise taken,” says Styles. “I think it’s been pretty good for me to have a kind of stop, to look and think about what it actually means to be an artist, what it means to do what we do and why we do it. I lean into moments like this — moments of uncertainty.”

In truth, while Styles has largely been keeping a low profile — his Love On Tour, due to kick off on April 15, was postponed in late March and is now scheduled to launch in February 2021 (whether it actually will remains to be seen) — his music has not. This is especially true in the U.S., where he’s notched two hit singles, “Adore You,” the second-most-played song at radio in 2020, and “Watermelon Sugar” (No. 22 on Variety’s year-end Hitmakers chart), with a third, “Golden,” already cresting the top 20 on the pop format. The massive cross-platform success of these songs means Styles has finally and decisively broken into the American market, maneuvering its web of gatekeepers to accumulate 6.2 million consumption units and rising.

Why do these particular songs resonate in 2020? Styles doesn’t have the faintest idea. While he acknowledges a “nursery rhyme” feel to “Watermelon Sugar” with its earwormy loop of a chorus, that’s about as much insight as he can offer. His longtime collaborator and friend Tom Hull, also known as the producer Kid Harpoon, offers this take: “There’s a lot of amazing things about that song, but what really stands out is the lyric. It’s not trying to hide or be clever. The simplicity of watermelon … there’s such a joy in it, [which] is a massive part of that song’s success.” Also, his kids love it. “I’ve never had a song connect with children in this way,” says Hull, whose credits include tunes by Shawn Mendes, Florence and the Machine and Calvin Harris. “I get sent videos all the time from friends of their kids singing. I have a 3-year-old and an 8-year-old, and they listen to it.”

Styles is quick to note that he doesn’t chase pop appeal when crafting songs. In fact, the times when he pondered or approved a purposeful tweak, like on his self-titled 2017 debut, still gnaw at him. “I love that album so much because it represents such a time in my life, but when I listen to it — sonically and lyrically, especially — I can hear places where I was playing it safe,” he says. “I was scared to get it wrong.”

Contemporary effects and on-trend beats hardly factor into Styles’ decision-making. He likes to focus on feelings — his own and his followers’ — and see himself on the other side of the velvet rope, an important distinction in his view. “People within [the industry] feel like they operate on a higher level of listening, and I like to make music from the point of being a fan of music,” Styles says. “Fans are the best A&R.”

This from someone who’s had free rein to pursue every musical whim, and hand in the album of his dreams in the form of “Fine Line.” Chart success makes it all the sweeter, but Styles insists that writing “for the right reasons” supersedes any commercial considerations. “There’s no part that feels, eh, icky — like it was made in the lab,” he says.

Styles has experience in this realm. As a graduate of the U.K. competition series “The X Factor,” where he and four other auditionees — Niall Horan, Zayn Malik, Liam Payne and Louis Tomlinson — were singled out by show creator and star judge Simon Cowell to conjoin as One Direction, he’s seen how the prefab pop machine works up close. The One Direction oeuvre, which counts some 42 million albums sold worldwide, includes songs written with such established hitmakers as Ryan Tedder, Savan Kotecha and Teddy Geiger. Being a studious, insatiable observer, Styles took it all in.

“I learned so much,” he says of the experience. “When we were in the band, I used to try and write with as many different people as I could. I wanted to practice — and I wrote a lot of bad shit.”

His bandmates also benefited from the pop star boot camp. The proof is in the relatively seamless solo transitions of at least three of its members — Payne, Malik and Horan in addition to Styles — each of whom has landed hit singles on charts in the U.K., the U.S. and beyond.

This departs from the typical trajectories of boy bands including New Kids on the Block and ’N Sync, which have all pro ered a star frontman. The thinking for decades was that a record company would be lucky to have one breakout solo career among the bunch.

Styles has plainly thought about this.

“When you look at the history of people coming out of bands and starting solo careers, they feel this need to apologize for being in the band. ‘Don’t worry, everyone, that wasn’t me! Now I get to do what I really want to do.’ But we loved being in the band,” he says. “I think there’s a wont to pit people against each other. And I think it’s never been about that for us. It’s about a next step in evolution. The fact that we’ve all achieved different things outside of the band says a lot about how hard we worked in it.”

Indeed, during the five-ish years that One Direction existed, Styles’ schedule involved the sort of nonstop international jet-setting that few get to see in a lifetime, never mind their teenage years. Between 2011 and 2015, One Direction’s tours pulled in north of $631 million in gross ticket sales, according to concert trade Pollstar, and the band was selling out stadiums worldwide by the time it entered its extended hiatus. Styles, too, had built up to playing arenas as a solo artist, engaging audiences with his colorful stage wear and banter and left-of-center choices for opening acts (a pre-Grammy-haul Kacey Musgraves in 2018; indie darlings King Princess and Jenny Lewis for his rescheduled 2021 run).

Stages of all sizes feel like home to Styles. He grew up in a suburb of Manchester, ground zero for some of the biggest British acts of the 1980s and ’90s, including Joy Division, New Order, the Smiths and Oasis, the latter of which broke the same year Styles was born. His parents were also music lovers. Styles’ father fed him a balanced diet of the Beatles, Fleetwood Mac, the Rolling Stones and Queen, while Mum was a fan of Shania Twain, Norah Jones and Savage Garden. “They’re all great melody writers,” says Styles of the acts’ musical throughline.

Stevie Nicks, who in the past has described “Fine Line” as Styles’ “Rumours,” referencing the Fleetwood Mac 1977 classic, sees him as a kindred spirit. “Harry writes and sings his songs about real experiences that seemingly happened yesterday,” she tells Variety. “He taps into real life. He doesn’t make up stories. He tells the truth, and that is what I do. ‘Fine Line’ has been my favorite record since it came out. It is his ‘Rumours.’ I told him that in a note on December 13, 2019 before he went on stage to play the ‘Fine Line’ album at the Forum. We cried. He sang those songs like he had sung them a thousand times. That’s a great songwriter and a great performer.”

“Harry’s playing and writing is instinctual,” adds Jonathan Wilson, a friend and peer who’s advised Styles on backing and session musicians. “He understands history and where to take the torch. You can see the thread of great British performers — from Bolan to Bowie — in his music.”

Also shaping his musical DNA was Manchester itself, the site of a 23,500-seat arena, dubbed Co-op Live, for which Styles is an investor and adviser. Oak View Group, a company specializing in live entertainment and global sports that was founded by Tim Leiweke and Irving Azoff in 2015 (Jeffrey Azoff, Irving’s son, represents Styles at Full Stop Management), is leading the effort to construct the venue. The project gained planning approval in September and is set to open in 2023, with its arrival representing a £350 million ($455 million) investment in the city. (Worth noting: Manchester is already home to an arena — the site of a 2017 bombing outside an Ariana Grande concert — and a football stadium, where One Love Manchester, an all-star benefit show to raise money for victims of the terrorist attack, took place.)

“I went to my first shows in Manchester,” Styles says of concerts paid for with money earned delivering newspapers for a supermarket called the Co-op. “My friends and I would go in on weekends. There’s so many amazing small venues, and music is such a massive part of the city. I think Manchester deserves it. It feels like a full-circle, coming-home thing to be doing this and to be able to give any kind of input. I’m incredibly proud. Hopefully they’ll let me play there at some point.”

Though Styles has owned properties in Los Angeles, his base for the foreseeable future is London. “I feel like my relationship with L.A. has changed a lot,” he explains. “I’ve kind of accepted that I don’t have to live here anymore; for a while I felt like I was supposed to. Like it meant things were going well. This happened, then you move to L.A.! But I don’t really want to.”

Is it any wonder? Between COVID and the turmoil in the U.S. spurred by the presidential election, Styles, like some 79 million American voters, is recovering from sticker shock over the bill of goods sold to them by the concept of democracy. “In general, as people, there’s a lack of empathy,” he observes. “We found this place that’s so divisive. We just don’t listen to each other anymore. And that’s quite scary.”

That belief prompted Styles to speak out publicly in the wake of George Floyd’s death. As protests in support of Black Lives Matter took to streets all over the world, for Styles, it triggered a period of introspection, as marked by an Instagram message (liked by 2.7 million users and counting) in which he declared: “I do things every day without fear, because I am privileged, and I am privileged every day because I am white. … Being not racist is not enough, we must be anti racist. Social change is enacted when a society mobilizes. I stand in solidarity with all of those protesting. I’m donating to help post bail for arrested organizers. Look inwards, educate yourself and others. LISTEN, READ, SHARE, DONATE and VOTE. ENOUGH IS ENOUGH. BLACK LIVES MATTER.”

“Talking about race can be really uncomfortable for everyone,” Styles elaborates. “I had a realization that my own comfort in the conversation has nothing to do with the problem — like that’s not enough of a reason to not have a conversation. Looking back, I don’t think I’ve been outspoken enough in the past. Using that feeling has pushed me forward to being open and ready to learn. … How can I ensure from my side that in 20 years, the right things are still being done and the right people are getting the right opportunities? That it’s not a passing thing?”

His own record company — and corporate parent Sony Music Group, whose chairman, Rob Stringer, signed Styles in 2016 — has been grappling with these same questions as the industry has faced its own reckoning with race. At issue: inequality among the upper ranks (an oft-cited statistic: popular music is 80% Black, but the music business is 80% white); contracts rooted in a decades-old system that many say is set up to take advantage of artists, Black artists more unfairly than white; and the call for a return of master rights, an ownership model that is at the core of the business.

Styles acknowledges the fundamental imbalance in how a major label deal is structured — the record company takes on the financial risk while the artist is made to recoup money spent on the project before the act is considered profitable and earning royalties (typically at a 15% to 18% rate for the artist, while the label keeps and disburses the rest). “Historically, I can’t think of any industry that’s benefited more off of Black culture than music,” he says. “There are discussions that need to happen about this long history of not being paid fairly. It’s a time for listening, and hopefully, people will come out humbled, educated and willing to learn and change.”

By all accounts, Styles is a voracious reader, a movie lover and an aesthete. He stays in shape by adhering to a strict daily exercise routine. “I tried to keep up but didn’t last more than two weeks,” says Hull, Styles’ producer, with a laugh. “The discipline is terrifying.”

Of course, with the fashion world beckoning — Styles recently appeared in a film series for Gucci’s new collection that was co-directed by the fashion house’s creative director, Alessandro Michele, and Oscar winner Gus Van Sant — and a movie that’s set in the 1950s, maintaining that physique is part of the job. And he’s no stranger to visual continuity after appearing in Christopher Nolan’s epic “Dunkirk” and having to return to set for reshoots; his hair, which needed to be cut back to its circa 1940 form, is a constant topic of conversation among fans. This time, it’s the ink that poses a challenge. By Styles’ tally, he’s up to 60 tattoos, which require an hour in the makeup chair to cover up. “It’s the only time I really regret getting tattooed,” he says.

He shows no regret, however, when it comes to stylistic choices overall, and takes pride in his gender-agnostic portfolio, which includes wearing a Gucci dress on that Vogue cover— an image that incited conservative pundit Candace Owens to plead publicly to “bring back manly men.” In Styles’ view: “To not wear [something] because it’s females’ clothing, you shut out a whole world of great clothes. And I think what’s exciting about right now is you can wear what you like. It doesn’t have to be X or Y. Those lines are becoming more and more blurred.”

But acclaim, if you can believe it, is not top of mind for Styles. As far as the Grammys are concerned, Styles shrugs, “It’s never why I do anything.” His team and longtime label, however, had their hearts set on a showing at the Jan. 31 ceremony. Their investment in Styles has been substantial — not just monetarily but in carefully crafting his career in the wake of such icons as David Bowie, who released his final albums with the label. Hope at the company and in many fans’ hearts that Styles would receive an album of the year nomination did not come to pass. However, he was recognized in three categories, including best pop vocal album.

“It’s always nice to know that people like what you’re doing, but ultimately — and especially working in a subjective field — I don’t put too much weight on that stuff,” Styles says. “I think it’s important when making any kind of art to remove the ego from it.” Citing the painter Matisse, he adds: “It’s about the work that you do when you’re not expecting any applause.”

[shutupandshipit]

Singing from the soul - Oneshot

Summary: 'If you're gonna tell them everything/tell them I'm a good kisser./Tell them all things you told me/in your desperate whisper./If you're gonna tell them everything/don't leave out the good part./Tell them the way that you broke my heart/when you told me that your missed her./Tell them I'm a good kisser!' Bakugou's voice was a pleasant warm rumble through the room.

Jirou wasn't sure how many people knew, but he had a great singing voice. Not as rough around the edges as his regular speaking voice, but more smooth like an old time jazz singer. She'd never admit it out loud, not to Bakugou at least, but she loved listening to him sing and often goaded him into it. In her room, he sang more freely than when they were outside which was just another plus to this weird arrangement that they had.

.....

Or where Jirou finds out who Bakugou's soulmate is, and has minor dilemma on whether she should tell him or not.

Pairing: Bakudeku

Rating: T (for some choice words, but that’s it)

Author’s Note: The songs included in this fic all belong to their creators. Those songs are in order of appearance: -Good Kisser by Lake Street Dive -Bakugo Rap by Daddyphatsnaps -Love Like You by Caleb Hyles

They're all really great songs and they're all available on Spotify! Go listen to them! Also, since I was listening to it while writing/posting this, another great song that very much reminds me of these two is POV by Ariana Grande!

Jirou lounged back against the pillows of her bed slowly making her way through the day's homework. At the end of her bed, Bakugou's blond tufts stuck up just over the edge of the purple bedspread. Music thrummed through her room, quiet and unassuming as to not disturb their studying.

Normal business as usual.

She couldn't exactly remember when this had started, Bakugou knocking on her door to study and the pair of them sitting in companionable silence with only music to fill the space. Sometimes they discussed her music choice of the day or something that didn't make sense on their homework, but mostly, they were silent. Their time together was probably the only times Jirou saw Bakugou do anything quietly. It was relieving and honestly a breath of fresh air, and she thought that maybe it was the same for him.

Bakugou huffed, and there was the soft clatter of his glasses hitting the table as she finally glanced up from her book. His head was leaned back against the bed, heels of his palms pressed into his eyes. Silently, his lips moved, but they weren't moving along to the words of what they were listening to.

Reaching over, she turned down the volume on her radio to near silent. “What's the matter?”

“My soulmate,” Bakugou ground out, pressing palms into his eyes harder, “Keeps singing the same song over and over again. Fucking annoying.”

“What's the song?”

'If you're gonna tell them everything/tell them I'm a good kisser./Tell them all things you told me/in your desperate whisper./If you're gonna tell them everything/don't leave out the good part./Tell them the way that you broke my heart/when you told me that your missed her./Tell them I'm a good kisser!' Bakugou's voice was a pleasant warm rumble through the room.

Jirou wasn't sure how many people knew, but he had a great singing voice. Not as rough around the edges as his regular speaking voice, but more smooth like an old time jazz singer. She'd never admit it out loud, not to Bakugou at least, but she loved listening to him sing and often goaded him into it. In her room, he sang more freely than when they were outside which was just another plus to this weird arrangement that they had.

It was good that his singing voice was nice though because his soulmate, whoever they may be, had a habit of singing for hours on end. Sometimes Bakugou could resist the pull, clench his jaw against the words trying to roll off his own tongue. Other times, he either didn't have the energy to fight it or just didn't care, and let them flow. When he was in her room, he rarely tried to force them down.

"Over and over and over again," Bakugou growled, still in the same position as before, "Like the song doesn't have any other lyrics or something."

"I've heard it before. I think they just like those lyrics. Maybe it's stuck in their head."

"Fucking fantastic."

Jirou smiled, reaching over to pat his spikes. He growled at her, but didn't move as she swung her legs over the side. “Is it really that annoying?”

Again, Bakugou growled. When he dropped his hands, it was only to reach for her music player on her bedside table. “Enough to need something to drown out the little fuck. Can't believe he's listening to something so annoying. I don't think it's stuck in his head, I just think he put it on replay.” He scrolled through her playlist before clicking out and going to the list of music they'd made together.

That was another thing that had become common, and it had happened after the music festival. Making music together. Unbeknownst to the others, Bakugou could rap and seemed to prefer it, though she'd gotten him to duet with her a couple times. His voice filled her room as he turned up the volume on the stereo.

“He?” Jirou asked curiously. She stretched her arms high over her head, back popping from neck to waist. “Do you know who it is?”

Bakugou ducked his head back towards his book, but she knew he was lying when his ears blushed red. “No, how the fuck would I know that for sure? It just wouldn't make any sense if my soulmate were a chick seeing as I'm gay.”

Jirou hummed, but thought about how soulmates weren't always exclusively romantic. They could be platonic. Kaminari and she had proven that when they'd figured out they were soulmates.

People could also have multiple soulmates, and Kaminari had proven that when he'd started singing someone else's song and she hadn't been compelled to join him. That had been a very strange and confusing day, but they'd figured it out. Kaminari was still looking for his second soulmate, but it didn't stop him from singing Jirou's song with her.

“A plausible reason,” she said, slipping her slippers on, “Do you want anything? I'm going to get a drink from downstairs.”

"The watermelon lemonade I made earlier.”

“Sure thing.” As she left the room, she heard Bakugou start in with the song he'd put on. She rolled her eyes, and closed the door.

Downstairs, her classmates were clustered in the living room laughing wildly. Stepping up beside Kaminari, she raised an eyebrow. “What's going on?”

Wiping a tear from beneath an eye, Kaminari gasped. “Midoriya's soulmate has got him spitting bars. It wouldn't be so funny if it were just normal rapping, but-” Another peel of laughter fell from his mouth, and he wrapped his arms around his stomach.

Jirou raised an eyebrow, and stepped closer to get a good look at Midoriya. His face was red from forehead to chin, mouth moving rapidly as he shielded his face with his arms. Her eyebrows jumped higher as she finally caught the words.

'Let me just tell you something/You don't want to fuck with me./Imma be number one cause bitch that's all that I can see./King of the UA/Everybody knows that I'm a G/Everybody knows that I will be/Top of the class/No rivalry-' He clamped his lips shut, but after a moment, the words were spilling out again. 'What I gotta do to prove I'm in another league?/I get stronger as I go/Don't give a fuck about fatigue./I'm a warrior without a challenge-' Curling in on himself, Midoriya hid his head between his knees. His words went muffled, and Jirou finally stepped away towards the kitchen.

Rushing, she grabbed two glasses and the jug of watermelon lemonade before booking it back upstairs. There was absolutely no way that Midoriya and Bakugou were soulmates. There was just no way. It was ludicrous to think about, to even consider. What kind of sick joke would that be for the universe to bind the two of them like that?

She bumped her door open with her hip and paused in the doorway to hear Bakugou still going for it. The song had changed, but a quick plug of her jack into the floor told her Midoriya's words still matched up perfectly with Bakugou's. She felt dizzy with the new revelations, confused even. It just didn't make any kind of sense.

Swallowing, she set the glasses and jug on the table. “Have you ever thought that your soulmate might be embarrassed when you rap? You're songs aren't exactly... clean.”

Bakugou glanced up, pausing.

Through the floor, she heard Midoriya let out a grateful sigh.

“Has my soulmate ever thought that maybe I get embarrassed when he makes me sing Ariana Grande or Blackpink for hours on end? Tic for tak.” He waved off her concern, glancing down at his papers again. “He'll be fine.”

Jirou rolled her eyes and poured herself as glass of the lemonade. “Oh, I'm sure. They'd have to be able to take a lot to deal with you.”

Bakugou's head jerked up. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what is sounds like.” She grinned, and he flipped her off.

…..

After that, Jirou made a habit of paying more attention to the pair more than normal. She wasn't normally one to insert herself into her classmates' business mainly because she didn't want them in hers. She was making an exception for these two, determined to figure out 1) how they couldn't have possibly realized it yet and 2) how it was even possible. They were the bad kind of opposites. They still barely got along, even after everything they'd been through. Their tolerance of each other had to do with necessity rather than want. They couldn't even agree on a drink to buy from the vending machine.

She'd watched an argument breakout between them when Midoriya offered to split a drink with Bakugou on one of the hotter summer days, but they'd never even made it to pushing coins into the machine before storming away from each other. She didn't understand it, but she wanted to.

So she started to pay attention. Neither of them had a habit of singing during the school day, both staying relatively quiet except to talk to friends or answer a question in class. Neither of them even hummed. During the day, there wasn't even a peep of musical notes.

At night when they were back at the dorms was a different story all together.

Jirou would often walk downstairs to find Midoriya and Bakugou whispering the words to the same song under their breath on opposite sides of the common room. Or pass each other with their headphones in, one singing loudly while the other's mouth barely moved. Or eating at dinner with someone playing music, and one would start singing followed closely by the other. Or Bakugou would be sitting on her bedroom floor singing along to something slow that had come on, and she would plug her headphone into the floor to hear Midoriya crooning the same song on the floor below.

It was honestly maddening. Now that she was paying attention, it felt incredibly obvious what they were. There was a voice in her head screaming at her to tell them, to reveal the truth to them, but even though she was invested, she was unwilling to meddle to that degree.

Leaning against the edge of her balcony late one night, she didn't notice the two bodies slipping across the lawn. It was late enough that the lawn was dark, all of the lights on the bottom floor turned off as well as the girls' side of the building. The sky was moonless, the dark expanse punched through with numerous stars and beautiful to a fault.

It was the only reason Jirou was still awake. Her eyes were trained on the sky, watching shooting stars pass in a never ending shower.

So, no, she didn't see the two bodies stopping in the middle of the lawn or fanning out the blanket that had been bundled under an arm or lying down side by side with their hands twined between them. She did hear them though, hear the first beginning threads of song. A quiet humming in the dark.

Jirou's eyes jerked down, easily finding the dark shapes in the grass below.

“Deku,” a second voice growled without heat, “You know I'm not a fan of that song.”

Midoriya's voice floated up from the darkness, soft and coaxing. “But I like singing it with you. Just once. Please?”

After a pause, Bakugou grumbled, “Fine, but you can't complain about what I choose next. And no crying this time.”

Midoriya's reply was to start up his humming again, a light gentle tune that after a moment, Bakugou picked up with his deeper base. Their voices were a harmony Jirou didn't think they could achieve, Bakugou with the deep smoothness of his singing voice and Midoriya's tentative but strong tenor. Listening to them was like watching a romance at the exact moment the main characters fell in love.

Their words filled the night, gentle and twining. 'If I could begin to be/half of what you think of me/I could about anything/I could even learn how to love./When I see the way you act/wondering when I'm coming back/I could do about anything/I could even learn how to love/like you-' Midoriya's happy little chirp of a laugh cut into their words, even as Bakugou kept going. 'I always thought/I might be bad/now I'm sure that its true!/'Cause I think you're so good/and I'm nothing like you!/Look at you go!/I just adore you!/I wish that I knew!' Midoriya jumped in, their voices twining together again if a little choked. 'What makes you think I'm so special.'

Jirou felt heat press in at the backs of eyes, and she pressed a hand over her mouth to muffle her sniffle.

Bakugou's voice dropped away, and this time Midoriya sang as his voice trembled with obvious tears. 'If I could begin to do/something that does right by you/I would do about anything/I would even learn how to love./When I see the way you look/shaken by how long it took/I could do about anything/I could even learn how to love/like you. Love like you~'

Again, Bakugou joined in, and she could hear just how tight his throat had gotten as his voice deepened. 'Even though I can't compare/and I'm sorry if I stare/I just want to do everything./Maybe I could even learn how to love./ People say/this love is wrong/but all I want is to belong./I could say without any doubt/everyone should learn how to love/like you/love like you/love like you~'

They trailed off, and after a time, Bakugou whispered, “This is why I don't like singing this song. You always end up crying at the end.” In the darkness, she could just barely make out one form pulling the other in close.

“I'm sorry. I just love listening to you sing it. It makes me happy.”

“I know, that's why I do it even if I don't want to.”

'Holy shit.' Jirou's thoughts were a scatter of confusion and elation. On the one side, she was happy that they were together, that they knew about each other. On the other side, she was so incredibly confused on how they hid it so well. And on one last side, she was a little embarrassed to still be standing on her balcony listening to their private moment together. 'I should go inside. I should forget about this. I should congratulate Bakugou tomorrow about it.' She had too many thoughts and not enough brain capacity to deal with them at the moment.

Midoriya hummed, and she heard a barely audible, “I love you, Kacchan.”

'Definitely time to go!' As quickly and quietly as she could, she slipped back into her room and started closing the sliding glass door, but she still caught Bakugou's reply.

“Love you too, 'Zuku.”

[hldailyupdate]

This Charming Man: Why We’re Wild About Harry Styles

Variety’s Grammy-nominated Hitmaker of the Year goes deep on the music industry, the great pause and finding his own muses.

“We’ll dance again,” Harry Styles coos, the Los Angeles sunshine peeking through his pandemic-shaggy hair just so. The singer, songwriter and actor — beloved and critically acclaimed thanks to his life-affirming year-old album, “Fine Line” — is lamenting that his Variety Hitmaker of the Year cover conversation has to be conducted over Zoom rather than in person. Even via videoconference, the Brit is effortlessly charming, as anyone who’s come within earshot of him would attest, but it quickly becomes clear that beneath that genial smile is a well-honed media strategy.

To wit: In an interview that appears a few days later announcing his investment in a new arena in his native Manchester (more on that in a bit), he repeats the refrain — “There will be a time we dance again”— referencing a much-needed return to live music and the promise of some 4,000 jobs for residents.

None of which is to suggest that Styles, 26, phones it in for interviews. Quite the opposite: He does very few, conceivably to give more of himself and not cheapen what is out there and also to use the publicity opportunity to indulge his other interests, like fashion. (Last month Styles became the first male to grace the cover of Vogue solo.) Still, it stings a little that a waltz with the former One Direction member may not come to pass on this album cycle — curse you, coronavirus.

Styles’ isolation has coincided with his maturation as an artist, a thespian and a person. With “Fine Line,” he’s proved himself a skilled lyricist with a tremendous ear for harmony and melody. In preparing for his role in Olivia Wilde’s period thriller “Don’t Worry Darling,” which is shooting outside Palm Springs, he found an outlet for expression in interpreting words on a page. And for the first time, he’s using his megaphone to speak out about social justice — inspired by the outpouring of support for Black people around the world following the death of George Floyd at the hands of Minneapolis police in May.

Styles has spent much of the past nine months at home in London, where life has slowed considerably. The time has allowed him to ponder such heady issues as his purpose on the earth. “It’s been a pause that I don’t know if I would have otherwise taken,” says Styles. “I think it’s been pretty good for me to have a kind of stop, to look and think about what it actually means to be an artist, what it means to do what we do and why we do it. I lean into moments like this — moments of uncertainty.”

In truth, while Styles has largely been keeping a low profile — his Love On Tour, due to kick off on April 15, was postponed in late March and is now scheduled to launch in February 2021 (whether it actually will remains to be seen) — his music has not. This is especially true in the U.S., where he’s notched two hit singles, “Adore You,” the second-most-played song at radio in 2020, and “Watermelon Sugar” (No. 22 on Variety’s year-end Hitmakers chart), with a third, “Golden,” already cresting the top 20 on the pop format. The massive cross-platform success of these songs means Styles has finally and decisively broken into the American market, maneuvering its web of gatekeepers to accumulate 6.2 million consumption units and rising.

Why do these particular songs resonate in 2020? Styles doesn’t have the faintest idea. While he acknowledges a “nursery rhyme” feel to “Watermelon Sugar” with its earwormy loop of a chorus, that’s about as much insight as he can offer. His longtime collaborator and friend Tom Hull, also known as the producer Kid Harpoon, offers this take: “There’s a lot of amazing things about that song, but what really stands out is the lyric. It’s not trying to hide or be clever. The simplicity of watermelon … there’s such a joy in it, [which] is a massive part of that song’s success.” Also, his kids love it. “I’ve never had a song connect with children in this way,” says Hull, whose credits include tunes by Shawn Mendes, Florence and the Machine and Calvin Harris. “I get sent videos all the time from friends of their kids singing. I have a 3-year-old and an 8-year-old, and they listen to it.”

Styles is quick to note that he doesn’t chase pop appeal when crafting songs. In fact, the times when he pondered or approved a purposeful tweak, like on his self-titled 2017 debut, still gnaw at him. “I love that album so much because it represents such a time in my life, but when I listen to it — sonically and lyrically, especially — I can hear places where I was playing it safe,” he says. “I was scared to get it wrong.”

Contemporary effects and on-trend beats hardly factor into Styles’ decision-making. He likes to focus on feelings — his own and his followers’ — and see himself on the other side of the velvet rope, an important distinction in his view. “People within [the industry] feel like they operate on a higher level of listening, and I like to make music from the point of being a fan of music,” Styles says. “Fans are the best A&R.”

This from someone who’s had free rein to pursue every musical whim, and hand in the album of his dreams in the form of “Fine Line.” Chart success makes it all the sweeter, but Styles insists that writing “for the right reasons” supersedes any commercial considerations. “There’s no part that feels, eh, icky — like it was made in the lab,” he says.

Styles has experience in this realm. As a graduate of the U.K. competition series “The X Factor,” where he and four other auditionees — Niall Horan, Zayn Malik, Liam Payne and Louis Tomlinson — were singled out by show creator and star judge Simon Cowell to conjoin as One Direction, he’s seen how the prefab pop machine works up close. The One Direction oeuvre, which counts some 42 million albums sold worldwide, includes songs written with such established hitmakers as Ryan Tedder, Savan Kotecha and Teddy Geiger. Being a studious, insatiable observer, Styles took it all in.

“I learned so much,” he says of the experience. “When we were in the band, I used to try and write with as many different people as I could. I wanted to practice — and I wrote a lot of bad shit.”

His bandmates also benefited from the pop star boot camp. The proof is in the relatively seamless solo transitions of at least three of its members — Payne, Malik and Horan in addition to Styles — each of whom has landed hit singles on charts in the U.K., the U.S. and beyond.

This departs from the typical trajectories of boy bands including New Kids on the Block and ’N Sync, which have all pro ered a star frontman. The thinking for decades was that a record company would be lucky to have one breakout solo career among the bunch.

Styles has plainly thought about this.

“When you look at the history of people coming out of bands and starting solo careers, they feel this need to apologize for being in the band. ‘Don’t worry, everyone, that wasn’t me! Now I get to do what I really want to do.’ But we loved being in the band,” he says. “I think there’s a wont to pit people against each other. And I think it’s never been about that for us. It’s about a next step in evolution. The fact that we’ve all achieved different things outside of the band says a lot about how hard we worked in it.”

Indeed, during the five-ish years that One Direction existed, Styles’ schedule involved the sort of nonstop international jet-setting that few get to see in a lifetime, never mind their teenage years. Between 2011 and 2015, One Direction’s tours pulled in north of $631 million in gross ticket sales, according to concert trade Pollstar, and the band was selling out stadiums worldwide by the time it entered its extended hiatus. Styles, too, had built up to playing arenas as a solo artist, engaging audiences with his colorful stage wear and banter and left-of-center choices for opening acts (a pre-Grammy-haul Kacey Musgraves in 2018; indie darlings King Princess and Jenny Lewis for his rescheduled 2021 run).

Stages of all sizes feel like home to Styles. He grew up in a suburb of Manchester, ground zero for some of the biggest British acts of the 1980s and ’90s, including Joy Division, New Order, the Smiths and Oasis, the latter of which broke the same year Styles was born. His parents were also music lovers. Styles’ father fed him a balanced diet of the Beatles, Fleetwood Mac, the Rolling Stones and Queen, while Mum was a fan of Shania Twain, Norah Jones and Savage Garden. “They’re all great melody writers,” says Styles of the acts’ musical throughline.

Stevie Nicks, who in the past has described “Fine Line” as Styles’ “Rumours,” referencing the Fleetwood Mac 1977 classic, sees him as a kindred spirit. “Harry writes and sings his songs about real experiences that seemingly happened yesterday,” she tells Variety. “He taps into real life. He doesn’t make up stories. He tells the truth, and that is what I do. ‘Fine Line’ has been my favorite record since it came out. It is his ‘Rumours.’ I told him that in a note on December 13, 2019 before he went on stage to play the ‘Fine Line’ album at the Forum. We cried. He sang those songs like he had sung them a thousand times. That’s a great songwriter and a great performer.”

“Harry’s playing and writing is instinctual,” adds Jonathan Wilson, a friend and peer who’s advised Styles on backing and session musicians. “He understands history and where to take the torch. You can see the thread of great British performers — from Bolan to Bowie — in his music.”

Also shaping his musical DNA was Manchester itself, the site of a 23,500-seat arena, dubbed Co-op Live, for which Styles is an investor and adviser. Oak View Group, a company specializing in live entertainment and global sports that was founded by Tim Leiweke and Irving Azoff in 2015 (Jeffrey Azoff, Irving’s son, represents Styles at Full Stop Management), is leading the effort to construct the venue. The project gained planning approval in September and is set to open in 2023, with its arrival representing a £350 million ($455 million) investment in the city. (Worth noting: Manchester is already home to an arena — the site of a 2017 bombing outside an Ariana Grande concert — and a football stadium, where One Love Manchester, an all-star benefit show to raise money for victims of the terrorist attack, took place.)

“I went to my first shows in Manchester,” Styles says of concerts paid for with money earned delivering newspapers for a supermarket called the Co-op. “My friends and I would go in on weekends. There’s so many amazing small venues, and music is such a massive part of the city. I think Manchester deserves it. It feels like a full-circle, coming-home thing to be doing this and to be able to give any kind of input. I’m incredibly proud. Hopefully they’ll let me play there at some point.”

Though Styles has owned properties in Los Angeles, his base for the foreseeable future is London. “I feel like my relationship with L.A. has changed a lot,” he explains. “I’ve kind of accepted that I don’t have to live here anymore; for a while I felt like I was supposed to. Like it meant things were going well. This happened, then you move to L.A.! But I don’t really want to.”

Is it any wonder? Between COVID and the turmoil in the U.S. spurred by the presidential election, Styles, like some 79 million American voters, is recovering from sticker shock over the bill of goods sold to them by the concept of democracy. “In general, as people, there’s a lack of empathy,” he observes. “We found this place that’s so divisive. We just don’t listen to each other anymore. And that’s quite scary.”

That belief prompted Styles to speak out publicly in the wake of George Floyd’s death. As protests in support of Black Lives Matter took to streets all over the world, for Styles, it triggered a period of introspection, as marked by an Instagram message (liked by 2.7 million users and counting) in which he declared: “I do things every day without fear, because I am privileged, and I am privileged every day because I am white. … Being not racist is not enough, we must be anti racist. Social change is enacted when a society mobilizes. I stand in solidarity with all of those protesting. I’m donating to help post bail for arrested organizers. Look inwards, educate yourself and others. LISTEN, READ, SHARE, DONATE and VOTE. ENOUGH IS ENOUGH. BLACK LIVES MATTER.”

“Talking about race can be really uncomfortable for everyone,” Styles elaborates. “I had a realization that my own comfort in the conversation has nothing to do with the problem — like that’s not enough of a reason to not have a conversation. Looking back, I don’t think I’ve been outspoken enough in the past. Using that feeling has pushed me forward to being open and ready to learn. … How can I ensure from my side that in 20 years, the right things are still being done and the right people are getting the right opportunities? That it’s not a passing thing?”

His own record company — and corporate parent Sony Music Group, whose chairman, Rob Stringer, signed Styles in 2016 — has been grappling with these same questions as the industry has faced its own reckoning with race. At issue: inequality among the upper ranks (an oft-cited statistic: popular music is 80% Black, but the music business is 80% white); contracts rooted in a decades-old system that many say is set up to take advantage of artists, Black artists more unfairly than white; and the call for a return of master rights, an ownership model that is at the core of the business.

Styles acknowledges the fundamental imbalance in how a major label deal is structured — the record company takes on the financial risk while the artist is made to recoup money spent on the project before the act is considered profitable and earning royalties (typically at a 15% to 18% rate for the artist, while the label keeps and disburses the rest). “Historically, I can’t think of any industry that’s benefited more off of Black culture than music,” he says. “There are discussions that need to happen about this long history of not being paid fairly. It’s a time for listening, and hopefully, people will come out humbled, educated and willing to learn and change.”

By all accounts, Styles is a voracious reader, a movie lover and an aesthete. He stays in shape by adhering to a strict daily exercise routine. “I tried to keep up but didn’t last more than two weeks,” says Hull, Styles’ producer, with a laugh. “The discipline is terrifying.”

Of course, with the fashion world beckoning — Styles recently appeared in a film series for Gucci’s new collection that was co-directed by the fashion house’s creative director, Alessandro Michele, and Oscar winner Gus Van Sant — and a movie that’s set in the 1950s, maintaining that physique is part of the job. And he’s no stranger to visual continuity after appearing in Christopher Nolan’s epic “Dunkirk” and having to return to set for reshoots; his hair, which needed to be cut back to its circa 1940 form, is a constant topic of conversation among fans. This time, it’s the ink that poses a challenge. By Styles’ tally, he’s up to 60 tattoos, which require an hour in the makeup chair to cover up. “It’s the only time I really regret getting tattooed,” he says.

He shows no regret, however, when it comes to stylistic choices overall, and takes pride in his gender-agnostic portfolio, which includes wearing a Gucci dress on that Vogue cover— an image that incited conservative pundit Candace Owens to plead publicly to “bring back manly men.” In Styles’ view: “To not wear [something] because it’s females’ clothing, you shut out a whole world of great clothes. And I think what’s exciting about right now is you can wear what you like. It doesn’t have to be X or Y. Those lines are becoming more and more blurred.”

But acclaim, if you can believe it, is not top of mind for Styles. As far as the Grammys are concerned, Styles shrugs, “It’s never why I do anything.” His team and longtime label, however, had their hearts set on a showing at the Jan. 31 ceremony. Their investment in Styles has been substantial — not just monetarily but in carefully crafting his career in the wake of such icons as David Bowie, who released his final albums with the label. Hope at the company and in many fans’ hearts that Styles would receive an album of the year nomination did not come to pass. However, he was recognized in three categories, including best pop vocal album.

“It’s always nice to know that people like what you’re doing, but ultimately — and especially working in a subjective field — I don’t put too much weight on that stuff,” Styles says. “I think it’s important when making any kind of art to remove the ego from it.” Citing the painter Matisse, he adds: “It’s about the work that you do when you’re not expecting any applause.”

Harry for Variety. (2 December 2020)

[passionate-reply]

Whether you’re a Superman, a judge, a mom, or a dad, we can all appreciate the avant-garde genius of Laurie Anderson, the topic of this week’s installment of Great Albums! Find out what made Anderson’s breakout hit the most unlikely chart smash of the 80s, and what the rest of this amazing LP has in store, by watching my video or reading the full transcript below the break.

Welcome to Passionate Reply, and welcome to Great Albums! Today, I’ll be discussing one of the most unique and unforgettable albums around: Big Science, by Laurie Anderson. It’s very possible that you may not necessarily recognize her by name, but this album’s big hit has been riffed on and re-used many times throughout Western popular culture, so when I play it for you, it just might seem hauntingly familiar.

Music: “O Superman”

Put simply, “O Superman” is not your conventional pop hit, by any stretch of the imagination. It features little more than a sparse, barren electronic instrumental, and Anderson’s eerily vocoder-treated voice, not so much singing as acting out a one-woman stage play. It has much more in common with the avant-garde, minimalist works of 20th Century “modern classical” composers like Philip Glass and Steve Reich than it does anything you would hear on pop radio in the 1980s.

While you might assume that it entered mainstream consciousness through being used in some art film, it actually was a bona fide pop hit--particularly in Great Britain, which has always had a pronounced affinity for surprisingly weird chart entries. While the single was initially given only a small release, like most of Anderson’s earlier work, the prominent British radio DJ John Peel discovered it...and fell in love with it. And thanks to his frequent playing of it on the air, a lot of other people fell in love with it too, propelling it to #2 in the UK charts. I think it’s a testament to just how different the media landscape used to be, once upon a time in the 20th Century. Nowadays, the radio doesn’t really have room for idiosyncratic tastemakers like Peel, and the independent DJs who remain certainly don’t have the reach that Peel did. I suppose it’s the 20th Century version of sea shanties and other oddities becoming trends on social media.

But anyway, setting aside the strange legacy “O Superman” has as the world’s least likely hit single, we can appreciate it perfectly well as a moving work of art. “O Superman” is not really a pop song, but what it is is, perhaps, a desperate plea for comfort and protection. The figure, or concept, of “mother” seems to be the focus of the text, and serves as the apparent “final resort” of its insecure, searching rhetoric. We get this idea in a microcosm in the famous opening line, inspired by an aria by Jules Massenet: “O Superman, o judge, o Mom and Dad.” It’s an appeal to any and all higher powers, but culminates with perhaps the most primal, intuitive authority we can understand: our parents. Towards the end of the piece, the narrator begs to be held in the arms of “Mom,” but they’re described not as soft and warm, but “automatic,” “electronic,” and “petrochemical,” creating an uncanny conflation of innate human connections and the harshly artificial, technological conditions of modernity. Have we made the promises of technology and science into some sort of idol, looking to them for reassurance, and projecting onto them a goodwill or benevolence like a mother has for her children? Themes of high technology, as well as the search for safety and security, are found throughout the rest of the album, as is the stark, minimalist instrumentation.

Music: “From the Air”

Expanding somewhat on the references to aeroplanes found on “O Superman,” opening track “From the Air” is narrated by the captain of a doomed flight, instructing the passengers how to handle the imminent “crash landing.” It’s many people’s very worst nightmare, and plunges us straight into the sense of fearing for our lives, in a situation that’s completely beyond our control. A bold move for the very first track we hear! “From the Air” leads with somewhat plausible suggestions, like a very dated request that passengers “extinguish all cigarettes,” but gradually becomes increasingly surreal, adding to that nightmarish feeling. Anderson delivers her lines with a palpable sense of authority, that stirs you to want to obey her character even as they prove their unreliability. A taut, unresolved saxophone-driven ostinato throughout the track provides a constant sense of tension and anxiety, which certainly suits the mood. Until the end of the song, at which point it abruptly cuts off--presumably to represent the crash occurring, and the sudden deaths of those on board.

I like to think of “From the Air” as a sort of dark counterpart to “O Superman,” the latter of which is the opening track of the second side. While “O Superman” deifies technology as a source of maternalistic comfort, “From the Air” presents us with the ultimate failure of technology: slick and polished until the end, but unable to provide any real hope of meaningful security. That human desire for security is interrogated more directly on the final track of side one: “Born, Never Asked.”

Music: “Born, Never Asked”

While “Born, Never Asked” is much more laconic than tracks like “From the Air” and “O Superman,” it’s no less probing and thought-provoking, presenting us with a world of people who are, fundamentally, “free”--and yet deeply unsatisfied. “You were born,” quips Anderson, “and so you are free.” But we’re all too busy asking for a bigger answer, and some explicit, deeper meaning to our existences, that we can’t appreciate the simple freedom to live our lives however we want to, in the absence of any overt goals. The track begins by establishing a stately, handclap-driven backing, which serves to underscore the plainness or simplicity of its message, and is ultimately overtaken by a mournful violin outro--perhaps the embodiment of our emotional turmoil, as we seek the comfort of clear answers despite the fact that they never arrive. If only the world were as simple and well-defined as it seemed to be when we were children, filled with unthinking and unconditional love for our mothers!

“Born, Never Asked” asks us to question what it really means to be “free,” and whether or not it’s even satisfying or helpful to possess “freedom.” It’s worth noting that all of the pieces that comprise Big Science were chiefly intended as part of Anderson’s much longer magnum opus, entitled United States, which she completed in 1984. In that context, criticism of the value of “freedom” is perhaps also criticism of certain traditional American moral values. While “O Superman” prominently mentions “American planes,” I think the track that has the most to say about being American is the title track of the album.

Music: “Big Science”

The title track of Big Science takes us to a desolate and mostly empty landscape, defined more by its potential to be moulded into something habitable than anything it already, innately is. It’s a frigid perspective on America as terra nullius, a wasteland filled with nothing but ultra-recent and ultra-artificial capitalist “developments” as opposed to any real history or meaning. With its chilling coyote-like howls, and nods to Western movies and dependence upon cars, it can easily be contextualized as particularly American, but ultimately, the human drive to “improve” our environment through questionable (and perhaps even destructive) means is fairly universal. Much like the emotionally unsatisfying sense of freedom bestowed upon those who are born, in “Born, Never Asked,” the title track of Big Science shows us a world full of endless possibilities, but devoid of any true happiness born of those possibilities.

The term “big science” dates back to the Mid-20th Century, and has been used to describe the increasingly large scale of many significant scientific efforts, particularly those supported by world governments...and particularly, their militaries. During and after the Second World War, it became increasingly necessary for nations that wanted a place on the world stage to rope science into the military-industrial complex, especially in light of the development of atomic weaponry. Given the album’s thematic emphasis on the way we look to science and technology to provide some aegis of protection, and often in harmful or destructive ways, it’s a very fitting choice for the title.

I think that connection to the nuclear bomb is also an important key to interpreting the album’s cover art. On the cover of Big Science, we see Anderson lit very harshly from the right--so much so that her sunglasses are rendered completely white by the powerful light. While her pose is very deliberate, and perhaps even stilted, she appears to be raising her arms as though to shield herself from whatever is casting this bright light. Is Anderson perhaps portraying an atomic scientist, observing a nuclear blast with its signature burst of radiant light?

Overall, however we interpret this gesture, the black and white imagery and completely empty backdrop seem to pair well with that sparse and minimalistic instrumentation. Anderson appears on the cover with her signature costume, a solid white suit which, when paired with her short hairstyle, gives her a somewhat androgynous appearance. It also looks a bit like a labcoat, often worn by scientists and doctors--figures who culturally embody the principle of benevolent authorities backed by the power of technology and science.

Whenever artists who only briefly felt the spotlight of mainstream success are discussed, it can be tempting to ask whether or not such figures “deserved” more or better. In the case of Anderson, though, she never expected “O Superman” to become the breakout hit that it did, and never followed it up with anything actively pursuing the pop charts. In the wake of her most famous work, Anderson went right back to doing what she had been doing: making great, but totally avant-garde, art. She’s a figure of “art music,” and the “art world,” through and through, performing her elaborate multimedia works at museums, appearing in a number of festival-circuit art films, and accepting honourary degrees. Anderson has had a perfectly successful career, dwelling precisely in the realm of her choosing, and I don’t think there’s any better outcome than that. If you like Big Science, you’ll find plenty more striking and evocative works throughout the rest of her long and ongoing career.

Music: “Sharkey’s Day”

My favourite track on Big Science is “Sweaters.” With a Celtic-sounding melody, a grating fiddle, and perhaps the most vocally hated musical instrument of all time, the bagpipes, “Sweaters” is a dirge about an ancient subject: falling out of love. But despite its backward-looking folk setting, the jump from “I no longer love your eyes” to “I no longer love your sweaters” anchors it into the realm of the totally mundane...if not banal. Overall, though, what I think really makes it stand out on the album is its sense of levity. As I’ve discussed earlier, Big Science is loaded with really heavy themes about technology, Americana, and the meaning of life...so a song that’s not only about a romantic relationship, but also about sweaters, pens, and pencils, jammed into the middle of the first side, really feels like a sort of palate cleanser while you’re listening to this. That’s all for today--thanks for watching!

Music: “Sweaters”

[heliads]

Chapter 4: What Lies Ahead

Bucky Barnes is constantly haunted by his past, but the memories of his days as a Winter Soldier will come into a new light in the form of the Watching Hawk, his old HYDRA partner. Will he be able to trust her, and will she be able to move on from his mistakes?

previous / series masterlist

Bucky is sick of his cell. It’s barely been longer than six hours, as far as he can tell, but the grungy gray walls are already starting to drive him mad. He’s been visited by HYDRA soldiers, of course, who strike him across the face and gloat that he has returned to them despite all his attempts to break away. As the blood drains from his nose, Bucky silently wishes that he were miles away. He doesn’t want to think about the fact that he’s back in the grasp of HYDRA, and doesn’t want to think about the fact that they could easily brainwash him again and reduce him to a marionette soldier once more, fighting forever under the control of their strings.

So Bucky focuses instead on the pain, on the sensation of a clenched fist on his face and a metal ring cutting into his cheek. The pain can last forever, and it will be a constant he can cling to so he doesn’t fall apart. 

Bucky is not surprised when a HYDRA higher-up struts into the room, the Watching Hawk entering behind him. The operative is arrogant as always, sparing a few words to boast about how he missed control over the Winter Soldier. Bucky turns his attention to the Hawk, and finds himself wondering why she seems less confident in herself. Surely, she should be standing tall and proud- she completed her mission to capture Bucky and his friends, she should be reveling in her victory. Instead, she keeps her hands clasped behind her back, avoiding Bucky’s gaze like she can’t bear to see his face and come to terms with what she’s done.

The HYDRA commander is speaking to him again. He pulls out a familiar red book from the inside of his coat pocket. “Remember this, Barnes?” He flips the book open and finds the page he wants. “You should have known that you could never leave us.” The HYDRA operative starts reading out words in Russian, and Bucky’s blood chills to hear the words. He has not had to hear them in a while, but the sense of terror and paranoia they bring envelops him in a rush. Across the room, the Hawk jolts her head up and finally looks at him. Her jaw tightens, and Bucky realizes that she doesn’t want to see him under HYDRA control again. 

"Желание. Ржавый. Семнадцать.”

Bucky’s breathing grows harsh. HYDRA doesn’t know that their mind control is gone from his head, but yet Bucky still feels waves of fear washing over him. What if it doesn’t work? What if he becomes a mindless killer once more?

“Рассвет. Печь. Девять. Добросердечный.”

Bucky tilts his head back in his chair. Please let the Wakandan treatments have done their job, please let him stay a free-willed man.

“Возвращение на Родину. Один.”

Too late for second-guessing.

“Товарный вагон. Солдат?"

Bucky slowly lifts his head to meet the stare of the HYDRA commander.

“I will never be your soldier again.”

From the far corner of the room, Y/N’s head falls in relief. She lets out a silent breath only Bucky can tell she’d been holding. Thank God for Shuri.

The HYDRA commander is enraged. “You will always be our fighter! Well, if you cannot serve us in life, then you will in death. Hawk? Shoot the traitor.” Y/N’s eyes go wide for a second, then she blinks away her emotions. The commander turns to look at her. “That is a command. Сделай это.” At that mention of the Russian words, Y/N’s head snaps up. Bucky realizes she is Y/N no longer- the mind control lying dormant in her head has reawoken. 

The Hawk walks slowly towards Bucky. She reaches to her waist and pulls out a pistol. Bucky can do nothing but watch as she points it towards him, her hand shaking. It is horrifying to watch her now- her movements are as stiff as a robot’s, but her eyes, oh her eyes, they are so full of panic and fear that Bucky is drowning in them. Although her body is forced to obey the HYDRA commands, she will be helpless to watch as she kills her former ally. 

The Hawk’s hand freezes just before the gun is pointed at Bucky’s head. The commander clears his throat, and the gun starts moving towards his forehead once more, but the Hawk’s face is twisted with concentration. She squeezes her eyes shut, as if fighting against an invisible barrier. “Shoot him!” The commander’s voice rings out in frustration, and Y/N’s eyes fly open once. All Bucky can see in her eyes is deathly clarity, and he hears the sound of the gunshot.

It takes a while for Bucky to realize what happened. He sees the gun in Y/N’s hand, he smells the copper tang of blood in the air, and he knows she fired the pistol. Yet, there Bucky sits, unharmed, and there lies the commander on the ground, a scarlet pool creeping steadily out from under him. It hits him then- Y/N managed to break away from the mind control to shoot the commander instead of him. 

Y/N lets out a small gasp and drops the weapon. She runs over to Bucky and quickly unties his bonds. “I can’t believe it worked. I didn’t think I could-” Once he stands up, she backs away from him slightly, as if she can’t bear to let herself be close to him once more. “I’m sorry, Bucky. Oh, I’m so sorry.” She twists her hands anxiously. “It happened when we were breaking in the first time. There was a dormant protocol command, and one of the guards used it to make me tell them everything about the plan. I didn’t want to, and I tried so hard to fight it, but it didn’t work. I’m-” Bucky takes her hands gently, stopping her flurried motions and speech. “It doesn’t matter now. What matters is that you managed to break away from them, and we can leave them behind for good.” Y/N looks up at him again through desperate eyes, and the pain in them astounds him. “We can.”

Y/N and Bucky make their way silently through the HYDRA compound. This time, they are not stopped by any guards, as no one expects a breakout when all prisoners are either dead or about to be. They stop by other cells, releasing Natasha, Sam, and Steve, who are more than happy to see them. Y/N explains everything, and although Bucky can tell they’re still tense around her, they are willing to give her a second chance like they did for him. They stop briefly to collect their confiscated weapons, then quickly make their way out of the HYDRA base.

A few days later, Bucky finds himself standing next to Y/N near a Wakandan lab. She has a slight smile on her face as she takes in all of the technological prowess of Shuri and her scientists. “Are you sure this is going to work?” She asks Bucky, finally tearing her eyes away from the labs to face him. “Absolutely. It did for me.” Y/N sighs softly.

 “When I first asked you how it felt to be free of HYDRA, I never thought it could happen to me. All this time, I’ve had the illusion of free will. Every time I could speak when I wanted to, or chose what I wanted to do, I always knew in the back of my mind that the old codes and commands were still buried in my head. I told myself it was freedom, but it never was. Now that I’ll finally be able to go my own way, I’m not sure what to do.” Bucky takes her hands. “You’ll have the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. to help you, and you can always find a normal job if you don’t want any more combat work. Also, you’ll have me. We mind-controlled soldiers have to stick together, you know.” Y/N laughs at his words. “That sounds good.”

A door opens next to them, and a scientist peeks out, calling for Y/N to follow her into one of the labs. Bucky bids Y/N goodbye, and watches her follow the scientist into a distant room. He turns at the sound of footsteps behind him, and is surprised to see Steve walking up next to him. “What are you doing here?” Bucky asks. “Well, I wanted to see if everything was going alright. It feels like it wasn’t that long ago that I was here with you, back when we first got you out of HYDRA.”

Bucky lets a small smile cross his face. “I never thought it would end like this. I always hoped I’d see Y/N again, but I never could have dreamed that she’d get out too. I know you don’t know much about her right now, but she’s a good fighter, and better than that, a good person. She helped me a lot when I was still in HYDRA, and I’m glad I could help her in turn.”

Steve nods thoughtfully, then claps Bucky on the shoulder. “I’m happy you have her. Sometimes, you need someone with similar experiences to truly heal after hard times.” With that, he turns and walks away, leaving Bucky once more to his thoughts.

A few hours later, Bucky is there when Y/N wakes up from the procedure. She blinks dazedly up at him. “How do you feel?” He asks, and Y/N looks up at him in thought. “Pretty good for an independent soldier.” They both laugh at that, and Y/N gestures for Bucky to sit next to her. She leans her head on his shoulder, curling up around him. “I’m not sure what I’m going to do now. It feels like there are so many possibilities that I never had before. I’m excited to see what freedom feels like.” Bucky wraps his arm around her, letting himself relax. He may not know what the future holds for either of them, but as long as he has Y/N, he doesn’t need anything else.

tag list: @soleil-dor​

[thesbianxwaves]

~ Meet Waves ~

dominique provost-chalkley & they/them; genderqueer ‷ watch out , waverly “waves” bordeaux has crash-landed into roswell !! they look 27 years old and celebrate their birthday on may 8th. they are from weston, massachusetts, reside in lunar crescent and are currently working as the co-owner of teal pumpkin café. one thing you should know about them is they are proudly deaf and are currently on hiatus from their aspiring broadway career‷

Backstory TWs: Mentions of Chronic Illnesses & Medical Content

Waves was born two months prematurely and on Mother’s Day, 1994. Their mother refers to them as her “little miracle gift” because of this fact. Their original due date wasn’t until the end of July... In addition to being born prematurely, they were born with bilateral sensorineural hearing loss { profound in left ear, moderately-severe in right ear }, with bilateral clubfoot, and with a heart defect called Tetralogy of Fallot { TOF }.

They received the first of a series of open-heart surgeries to repair their heart defect when they were only 1 month old. The next surgery took place at 2 months. They also had surgery at 11 ½ months, 18 months, 3 years, and 5 ½  years. When it came to their clubfoot, their parents tried the bracing method; but they eventually underwent two surgeries to correct the positioning of their feet/ankles when they were 3 and then again when they were 4 years old. Because of this, they now wear sparkly AFO braces for support. They also still have lingering issues with foot/ankle instability and chronic pain.

Growing up, their parents spoke French at home as their father { Sébastien } was born and raised in Orleans and their mother { Amélie } was born and raised in the French countryside. They also have three older siblings, all of which were born in France. Their parents struggled to learn ASL to teach their daughter as their English had never been extraordinary strong; but the pair did their best best, teaching young Waves ASL, French, and English simultaneously. Despite ultimately being left-handed, they actually learned to sign as if their right hand was their dominant hand.

They received their first pair of assistive hearing devices at the age of 18 months. Their hearing aids were purple BTE { behind the ear } hearing aids with pink full shell earmolds. Every time they’d get a new pair of hearing aids, they’d stick with a similar color scheme; though once they were old enough and were able to communicate their desires, the earmolds were always sparkly purple but remained full shell in style.

Starting at age 6, they began attending speech therapy 3-4 times a week. Their speech therapist insisted they attend 5 times a week as they were delayed even beginning speech therapy due to health reasons; but their parents thought 5 times a week would be too much. They continued with speech therapy through the age of 19; though they went down to twice a week and then once a week and only through school as they got older. They actually never attended a formal preschool and instead was homeschooled by a private tutor who was a former teacher of the Deaf. They started kindergarten a year late at the age of 6 due to health reasons and frequent hospitalizations as a young child.

They never attended a mainstream school. Their parents wanted to give them the best chance for success; so they were enrolled in kindergarten at an elite primary school for the Deaf located in Boston. From there, they went on to attend the primary’s sister school—an elite secondary school for the Deaf. On their first day of kindergarten, their anxiety was so bad that their parents almost pulled them out of class. There was one boy called Dillon who came up to them, introduced himself, and commented on how much he liked their purple hearing aids and their matching { at the time } purple AFO braces. He was the only reason they got through their first day of school; and he stayed their best friend/platonic soulmate all the way through graduation day. 

Everyone from their parents to their teachers { and even some of their doctors } encouraged young Waves to get involved in their school’s theatre program, believing their bright personality would truly shine on the stage as it was known to shine off stage. At first, they were skeptical of the theatre due to not liking the attention and the fact memorizing lines was quite difficult { which turned into their difficulty being further examined and an eventual diagnosis of dyslexia }; but after their breakout role as Molly in a production of Annie when they were 8 years old, they instantly became hooked on anything and everything theatre.

At the age of 11, they ended up needing two emergency open heart surgeries back-to-back. This led to them missing half a year of school. They almost needed to repeat the year; but thanks to a hired private tutor, they were able to catch up with their current grade level during their long recovery period. During this rough time, binge-watching musicals was the only thing that got them through. It was also during this time they first took an interest in baking as they’d been plagued with numerous food allergies/sensitivities/intolerances since they were a baby. Musicals and baking became their outlet.

Waves continued to be part of their school’s theatre program; and at the age of 15, they were given the opportunity to join the junior program of a theatre company in Boston called Deaf Atlantic Theatre Company { aka DATC }. This company was the New England chapter of an inclusive theatre company located in off Broadway in NYC that was known for having performances in both spoken English and ASL. Their breakout role with this company was as a lost child in a production of Peter Pan. 

When it came time for college, the initial plan was to go to a university in London; however, due to health reasons { that ultimately led to a diagnosis of Mast Cell Activation Syndrome—MCAS }, their plans for London fell through. Fortunately, they’d been accepted into the infamous Gallaudet University as well. They ended up attending Gallaudet where duel majored in both Theatre and Environmental Science { the latter due always having had a strong appreciation for Mother Earth }. 

Their junior year of university, they had the opportunity to study abroad in Greece. They jumped at this opportunity due to the fact their favorite musical, Mamma Mia!, made them want to go to Greece. They weren’t going to miss their chance to skip awkwardly down cobblestone pathways while sign singing and wearing well-worn overalls. It was the closest thing they’d gotten to getting to play their dream role of Sophie { for now }.

After graduation, the plan was for them to leave the New England chapter of DATC and join the off Broadway chapter in NYC. This would’ve been a huge break for them, especially since that company’s actors were often given the auditions with Broadway productions as well as different TV shows/movies filming in the boroughs. Their plans were put on an indefinite hiatus after a series of events that led to a need for placemaker placement surgery and a diagnosis of a heart condition called Long QT Syndrome. This diagnosis was the most harrowing thus far; and it led to the beginning of what could’ve easily been a very dark period in Waves’s life. The only reason it never led to that dark period was because one of their older siblings invited them to move out to Roswell, New Mexico for a change of scenery and some much needed R&R. 

They moved to Roswell at the age of 23 and initially only planned on staying maybe a year. However, they stayed well passed that year. In their time in Roswell thus far, they’ve moved out of their sibling’s house and into their own place on Lunar Crescent where they now reside with their roommate/ASL interpreter and their hearing/medical alert service dog { a German Shepard named Atlas }. They’ve also opened a small vegan bakery café called the Teal Pumpkin Café that specializes in being allergy-friendly and accessible to all. 

Their name sign is the sign for “long hair” done one handed and with that hand forming the “W” hand shape. This name sign was given to them during the first Deaf event they attended when they were 4 years old. The name sign came from the fact their hair was down to their butt by that age. They’ve always been known by the fact they have hair for days.

They are named after Sir Walter Scott’s Waverley Novels; though due to all the trauma surrounding their birth, neither of their parents realized the second ‘e’ was missing from ‘Waverley’ until several months later. And by then, their parents had fallen in love with the spelling ‘Waverly’ and just didn’t bother changing it.

They came out as queer at the age of 15 and as genderqueer { using the pronouns she/they } at the age of 22. They changed their preferred pronouns to they/she several months later. They always knew they had a much stronger preference to they/them pronouns over she/her pronouns; but it took them until their 25th birthday to be able to admit that to anyone and formally change their preferred pronouns to solely they/them. Despite their preference for they/them pronouns and their gender identity being genderqueer, they don’t have issue with being referred to as feminine titles such as daughter, sister, girlfriend, actress, etc. Titles such as girl, woman, and female are hit or miss. And when it comes to honorifics, they are only comfortable with Mx. as miss and ms. don’t sit well with them.

They are not formally trained when it comes to baking. Everything they know, they learned from growing up with a hired French chef. Initially, this chef was hired due to all of their food allergies and restrictions; but over the years, they began to learn from the chef... This is why their baking style is heavily French-inspired. Their cooking style, on the other hand, is a bit of everything. 

The majority of their wardrobe comes from thrift, vintage, and charity shops as they wish to not give into the fast fashion industry. Only about 15% isn’t bought secondhand; and that’s because they believe it is important to support Deaf and disabled owned businesses as well. They collect both pins and beanies, the majority of which were purchased secondhand. Their favorite beanie is a thrifted mustard yellow one that a good friend of theirs embroidered “Waves” into the folded over bit. They also collect cool patterned socks; though hardly any of their socks are secondhand as socks are usually worn out before they can be given to thrift/vintage/charity shops. 

They are an avid gardener due to the severity of several of their food allergies and a need to know exactly where their food comes from. Because of this, they have a decently sized greenhouse in their backyard as well as a hydroponic plant tower in their sunroom. They’ve taken to growing quite the assortment of produce; and as they hate to see any produce go to waste, they are known to donate any excess to local soup kitchens and homeless shelters. They are also known to dropping off baskets of fresh produce to their friends and neighbors. 

They have a pretty big following on social media { mainly Instagram—their handle is thesbianwaves }; and they’ve taken to using their platform as a way of sharing their views on things like disability awareness/advocacy, deafness and ASL, queer pride, veganism, low-waste living, food allergies, and theatre/acting. They’re also rather well known throughout the Deaf community and the off Broadway acting community. 

They’ve never learned how to ride a bike; and despite having others offer to teach them, they’re not entirely interested. They also don’t know how to swim. They do have some desire to learn to swim; but they’re kinda embarrassed to ask for lessons now that they’re a grown adult.

click here for full stats page

Wanted Connections { hit me up if you’re interested in plotting—we can plot on here or via discord } 

Older Sibling(s)—between the ages of 31-40

Roommate/Interpreter

Ride or Die/Best Friend(s)

Childhood BFF Dillon

General Friends

Neighbors on Lunar Crescent

Employees at Teal Pumpkin Café 

Café Regulars 

Slow Burn/Future Love Interest

Doctors/Nurses

Extended Family Members

[chickensarentcheap]

Never Gonna Be Alone- Chapter 11

Title: Old Wounds

Warnings: none. But there’s always profanity, just an FYI

Tagging: @alievans007​, @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​, @tragiclyhip​

“Well I’ve got good news and bad news,” Tyler announces, as he descends the stairs later in the evening, pausing at the front entrance to switch off the foyer light and lock the door and set the alarm before joining his wife in the living room. “Which do you want first?”

Esme glances up from the mountains of clean laundry that takes up residence at her feet and on the already cluttered coffee table. Laundry baskets of differing colours are scattered around the room. A larger one that consists of their clothing and smaller containers labelled with each of the kids’ names; the latter eventually being placed in intervals on the stairs in hopes they’ll be carried up to the corresponding rooms. For the most part, the kids are good at getting their assigned chores done. The littles enjoying a ‘sticker chart’ that signifies a treat or toy of their choosing when full, and the older ones satisfied with decent sized allowances. Despite an extremely healthy bank account and money constantly flowing in, they’re still expected to ‘tow the line’; being taught responsibility and learning skills that will help them become self reliant and well functioning adults.

She wrinkles her nose and scowls. “Depends. On a scale of one to ten, how bad IS the bad news?”

“Considering it’s our kids we’re talking about?” He drops heavily onto the couch, wincing at the stiffness in his right knee when he stretches his leg out and places his foot on the edge of the coffee table. The cold weather is aggravating it; causing the arthritis to flare up and bringing with it an incessant ache that seems to have burrowed into the bone. Two reconstructive surgeries and a host of complications later, it’s as good as that leg is going to get. Already told to be prepared for a third surgery before he hits sixty. If he makes it that far. “I don’t know. I guess a four? Five at the most?”

“So that means no broken bones, knocked out teeth, and no one is unconscious or bleeding. In other words, it’s a relatively tame night for our house. Still…” she tosses a pair of mismatched socks into Tanner’s basket. He’s particular; socks always scrunched into a ball, never matching, and his other clothes separated by colour yet not folded, preferring to do it himself once he takes the basket upstairs. “...tell me the good news first. It’s been a weird day.”

“The good news is that all the little ones are already asleep. Tanner’s on his way out but he’s sleeping in the tub in the boys’ bathroom again because TJ and Declan are being too loud. Not even the headphones and locking himself in his happy place were doing the trick. I tried.”

“Well, at least he finds ways to cope and make himself happy, I guess. The bad news?”

“Millie and Alannah are showing no signs of slowing down. So if you’re wanting to actually get some shut eye, you might want to camp out down here. It’s going to be a long ass night.”

“Maybe I’ll borrow Tanner’s headphones,” she says, then grins at him over her shoulder. “That should help fend off your snoring too.”

“It can’t be THAT bad. You’ve been sharing a bed with me for twelve and a half years. I notice you don’t ever head for the couch. You put up with it.”

“Do you know many times in the past twelve and a half years I’ve been tempted to smother you with a pillow? Many. Many. MANY times.”

“Yet I’m still here.”

“Mostly because I wouldn’t do well in jail. I’d never survive in there. And prison jumpsuit orange is NOT my colour.”

“And here I was thinking maybe I’ve survived because you just love me THAT much.”

“It plays a small part in it. But just a small one. Just so you know.”

“You’d miss me. If I wasn’t around.”

“Like a migraine,” she teases, and yelps when he lands a playful yet solid backhand on one of the cheeks of her ass. “That’s not nice. That’s not friends.”

“Is that what we are? Friends? That’s as far as we’ve come in twelve and a half years?”

“Friends with the best benefits,” she chides, and snags an unfolded towel from the pile of laundry on the floor and smacks him upside the head with it. “I wouldn’t complain if I were you. You wouldn’t suddenly want to find yourself facing an extremely long dry spell.”

“I’d be alright. I have three wank files on my phone now.”

“Three? What do you need three for? And how do you even have that many pictures of me in the first place? Are you sneaking them while I’m asleep? Because that’s just...creepy...if you are.”

“Bold of you to assume that it’s just pictures of you.”

She drops her chin to her chest and stares at him pointedly.

“I’m kidding. I only need pictures of you. No one else. Well, there’s a couple of videos too, but…”

“I swear to God, if anyone ever goes into your phone and finds those? I will kill you. In the most brutal and painful way possible. Why do you need videos anyway?”

“Homemade porn. Best you can get.”

“You can’t watch regular porn like regular people?”

“I mean, I COULD. But I don’t want to. I want to watch you. Unleashing your inner porn star. Getting all freaky and kinky and shit. You should watch them with me. Be kind of hot, don’t think? Watch them and make a new one?”

“You’ve got issues. Serious issues.”

“I can’t help it. I can’t help that my wife is a total MILF. That she looks all tiny and cute and innocent but is a freak in bed. You shouldn’t have been so eager and willing if you didn’t want me scooping you up at that quick.”

She smirks. “I thought you said I was a B plus?”

“You were. Until I got a hold of you. Now? Solid A plus, plus, PLUS.”

“So you’re finally admitting that you DID corrupt me. After twelve and a half years denying it.”

“I merely helped you build on your skills. Improve them. I was more than willing to let you experiment on me.”

“Mmmhmm. You know, I was a good girl until you got a hold of me.”

“Like fuck you were. Good girls do NOT bang a guy...for five days straight...that they barely know. Unprotected.”

“I admit, that was not one of my finer judgement calls. But I trusted you. You didn’t seem like the type that didn’t take precautions. I mean, looking like you do and having women in different ports all over the world? That was a given. But you didn’t strike me as the type that wanted kids all over the world. Or STD’s. I trusted you. For some reason.”

“You just wanted the dick. Admit it. You were willing to sacrifice all your morals and standards for it.”

“I will admit to no such things. You were just as into it as I was. You didn’t exactly turn sex down. You didn’t seem too concerned about the whole protection thing. How did you know I wasn’t some hoe crawling with Lord knows what? How’d you know you weren’t going to get the burn?”

“I trusted you. Against my better judgement.”

Smirking, she cocks her head to the side and regards him with a mixture of disdain and amusement.

��You were all cute and tiny and innocent looking. Boy did I learn. Quick.”

“Something tells me you wouldn’t have kept me around if I was TOO cute and innocent. I knew just enough to make you want it, yet still gave you a pretty clean slate to work with. You must be so proud of yourself. Corrupting me like you have. Moulding me into some freak in bed.”

“Babe, you had a freak inside of you, just took good dick to bring it out. You are some of my best work though. You didn’t turn out too bad.”

She gives a derisive snort.

“Aren’t you glad you went along with Nik’s fucked up idea? Was it not the best decision of your life?”

“I don’t know about the best,” she teases, and drops a load of clean wash in his lap. “But you’re on my top five list.”

“Well for what it’s worth, it’s definitely the best decision I ever made. And you have to admit, the whole lack of protection thing? It didn’t turn out too bad.”

“I don’t know about that. She’s turning into quite the hell beast. You know those hellhounds on Supernatural? Millie could be their ruler. In fact, they’d be scared of HER. Although I have figured it out. Why she’s been extra bitchy lately.”

“Please tell me it’s not boys. Bad enough we had one phone here. I don’t want to find out there’s more.”

“It’s not boys. Although…” she drops down onto the couch beside him. “...that will come soon enough. Puberty. It’s puberty.”

“Excuse me?”

“It hasn’t happened yet. The big event. She hasn’t gotten her period.”

“We are NOT having this conversation.”

“As uncomfortable as it makes you, we have to have it. Because it’s going to happen. Soon.”

“She’s eleven.”

“She’ll be twelve in March. I was just shy of twelve when I got mine.”

He turns his attention to the pile of laundry in his lap. “I do NOT want to hear this.”

“I’m just trying to prepare you. The mood swings? The skin breakouts? The fact she’s starting to develop and has already asked me to take her shopping for bras…”

“Don’t. Please don’t. I’m not listening to you. I refuse to listen to you.”

“...means that things are going to happen. Soon. And we need to be prepared. Especially you.”

“Why me? Why do I need to be more prepared than you?”

“Because I’ve had my period for almost thirty years. I’m obviously experienced in these things.”

“And I’ve lived with you for twelve of those thirty years. Who is the one that bears the brunt of the shit storm when you get all mean and moody and shit? Who’s the one that’s been bringing your bitchy ass chocolate and ice cream? Who’s the one that will massage your back and bring you a heating pad when the cramps are bad? Never mind that, who’s had to go to the store and buy you woman stuff?”

“You’ve been very good about it. But in all fairness, if you really think about it? I haven’t had my period that much since we’ve been together. You may have done all those very sweet and amazing things, but you’ve also gotten me pregnant with seven kids. In twelve years.”

“That is a very good point, actually.”

“All I’m saying is that things are going to happen. Soon. And I just want you to be prepared for it. I know it bothers you to think about it. Your baby girl growing up. But she is. Growing up. And she’s doing it very quickly. You need to step up your game and be ready for anything.”

“I really hate you right now.”

“Do you, Tyler? Do you REALLY?”

Leaning into her, he presses a kiss to her temple. “No. Not in the slightest.”

“I just want you to be prepared. In case it happens when I’m not home. So you know what to do.”

“You’re not leaving the house from here on out. Until she DOES get it.”

“You’ll be fine. I’ll make sure everything is in the house that you’ll need in case it does happen. I remember when Riley was going through puberty. My mom was totally useless. It was a disaster when I started mine. She would have been more than willing to just let me bleed all over the place. I had to stuff toilet paper in my underwear and steal money out of her purse so I could go to the store and get necessities.”

He grins. “My wife the felon.”

“So I made sure Riley would never have to go through that kind of humiliation. I made up this basket for her. Pads, tampons, a heating pad, chocolate bars, some pain killers. Everything she’d need. I’ll do that for Millie too. And I’ll put it somewhere where you can find it. So you’re ready if it happens and I’m not home.”

“Do we really have to keep talking about this?”

“Stick your head in the sand all you want, husband. It’s going to happen. Whether you like it or not. I know she’s your little girl. Your miracle baby. But she’s growing up. And it’s happening very fast and there’s nothing we can do to stop it, I’m not exactly happy about it either. This is all happening way too quick for my liking. Where the hell has the last twelve years gone? We’re going to have a teenager. Very soon.”

“Not to make things worse, but we’re going to have three in the house in just over two years.”

“You’re not helping. Seriously though. Where has that time gone? Some days it feels like we just met, don’t you think?”

“Now that I think about it, there are days you drive me as fucking nuts as you did that that first day in Dhaka.”

“Fuck you! I was cute and charming.”

“You were a pain in my ass.”

“But I was a CUTE pain in your ass. You can’t deny that.”

“You were something alright.”

“Look, just because you were having the feels for me and didn’t know how to handle it, that’s not my fault. And for the record, I would have been able to handle myself. In the market. If things went south.”

“Sure you would have. You would have been just fine. All five foot nothing and a hundred pounds of you.”

“Good things come in small packages. You didn’t need to watch me that closely.”

“Yes. I did. I very much did. You know what would have happened if Asif’s thugs got a hold of you? The end result would not have been pretty.”

“I think you use that as an excuse. I think you just wanted me that close because you WERE having feels for me.”

“I am neither going to admit OR deny that.”

“You don’t have to. I’ve caught on to you. You can keep lying to yourself about your motives back then, but I know what you were up to. And it’s very sweet. That you wanted to keep me safe and sound because you had feels for me.”

“Do you want me to be totally honest?”

“Always.”

“I really just wanted to keep you close so I could look at your ass. And because I was hoping to get laid. I needed you to be safe and in one piece for that to happen.”

She stares at him pointedly.

“I’m just saying. You want honesty? There’s your honesty. You were cute and had a wicked body and I was horny as fuck and wanted you to fix that. And boy, did you ever fix it.”

“And I'm still fixing it. Twelve and a half years later. You lucky bastard.”

“I am lucky.” A slow smile spreads across his face. “Very lucky.”

“It’s weird.” She turns her attention back to folding the laundry at her feet. “Sometimes it DOES seem like it was just yesterday. Where DID the time go? How did we end up old enough to have a pre-teen? I don’t know about you, but I don’t feel old enough for that.”

“The way my body is? I feel old enough to have a kid in college, never mind becoming a teenager. Which leads me to the other bad news.”

“Oh God…” Esme groans. “...there’s more?”

“These?” He reaches into the pocket of his sweats and pulls out a pair of reading glasses. “Don’t do shit anymore. I can see up close, but I can’t see fuck all far away. You know what that means?”

“Your eyesight is shit. Which I’ve been telling you for the last three years. Is it just your right eye?”

“That one’s worse.” It’s a mixture of things. The knife that Nathan had dug into his face -the sharp blade cutting deep and causing problems with the surrounding nerves- and the multitude of concussions suffered over the years. The last one five years ago had been the tipping point; causing permanent and extensive damage to the optic nerve. “ But they’re both shit.”

“When we get home you’ll have to call and schedule an eye appointment. And while you’re at it, you should call and get that hearing test done.”

“I don’t need one done. I know my hearing is fucked.”

“Fucked or not, you need one. So you know what you’re dealing with. You might need a hearing aid.”

“That’s a huge ‘fuck no’ from me.”

“I know it makes you feel old; glasses and hearing aids and arthritis and all the aches and pains. But you ARE getting close to fifty. And you’ve had a hard life. There’s been a lot of damage done. Isn’t it better to get on top of those things? So they don’t get worse? I just want you to have a good life. I want you to be around for a long while. And if that means you have to wear glasses on a permanent basis and get a hearing aid…”

“I’m sorry. Are you talking? I couldn’t hear you. It’s my old age.”

“It’s not old age. You’re just an asshole. Always have been, always will be. But you’re my asshole and I want to keep you around. And I know YOU want to stick around. Especially for your kids. So do it for them? Get your eyes and your hearing tested. Please? Because we love you, you insufferable, stubborn pain in my ass. And us loving you? That’s not going to change because you need help hearing and seeing.”

“I’ll be ugly as fuck. If I have to wear glasses all the time.”

“It’s impossible for you to be ugly. In fact…” she plucks the glasses from his hand and slips them onto his face. “...I think you’re quite sexy in them.”

“You know, you’re not half bad looking when I can actually see.”

She laughs and shoves him back against the couch. “You’re a total dick.”

“Fuck you, you love me.”

“I do. Despite my better judgement and the warnings from friends and family.”

Smirking, he lays a hand on the back of her head and pulls her into him; speaking with the tips of their noses pressed together and lips mere inches apart. “Why are you so mean to me? You’re always so mean.”

“I know. You have it so rough. I am the worst wife EVER. I’m horrible. Just horrible. How you put up with me defies all logic.”

“It’s a dirty job, but someone has to do it. It’s my cross to bear.”

“You poor bastard,” she laughs, a palm coming to rest on the side of his face when he kisses her. Long and slow and sweet, followed by a series of small pecks and then concluded with the press of his lips against her forehead; her eyes fluttering closed and a soft smile playing at the corners of her mouth. It’s always been one of her favorite things; those feathery kisses placed on her brow and the weight of his hand on the back of her neck and the warmth of his body so close to hers. It’s sweet and it’s pure; intimacy at its most basic and innocent of levels. And her smile widens when a calloused fingertip softly traces the slope of her nose and his lips press against the tip. “You and your freckles.”

“Well technically, they’re YOUR freckles.”

“You’re staring at them aren’t you.”

“Not staring. Admiring.”

“Admiring what? They’re ugly.”

“They’re adorable. And you’re beautiful.” He presses a kiss to each corner of her mouth, hand smoothing wayward strands of hair away from the sides of her face and neck.

Her eyes flutter open. “Why do you look at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like THAT. How you’re looking at me right now. Just so...I don’t know...I don’t know how to describe it. But you always do it. Your face changes. So does the colour of your eyes. It’s like you’re looking at me for the very first time all over again. Even though you’ve seen me nearly every day for the last twelve and a half years. Yet you still do it. Look at me like that. Like I’m the most amazing thing you’ve ever seen.”

“Maybe you are. Maybe to me you’re the most beautiful woman in the world. Maybe all I see is you. Maybe because everything that is amazing and perfect in my life is because of you. All this? A place like this? My kids? Us? None of that would exist if it wasn’t for you. If you hadn’t stuck around on that bridge…”

“But I did. I DID stick around. And if it happened a thousand times, I would make the exact same decision. No hesitations. I did the right thing. No one can ever tell me different.”

“For what it’s worth, I’m glad you put your ass on the line for a guy that was a complete and utter fucking mess.”

“Well I guess I just saw the potential,” she chides, and then kisses him; fingernails lightly scraping along the bottom of his hairline “You know what I really want right now?”

“I’m hoping you’re going to say sex, but I have a sneaky feeling that’s not it.”

“Leftover Chinese food. And my last chocolate croissant.”

“And then sex?”

Laying a hand on the side of his head, she pulls him closer; placing a series of feathery kisses along his jaw and then grinning against his ear. “Maybe.”

*****

An hour later they sit in the sunroom; the remnants of a late night meal on the coffee table, the area illuminated by strings of multi-colored Christmas lights lining each pane of glass and the soft glow given off by the space heater. It’s the kind of quiet and relaxation that is extremely rare to find especially during the holiday season; one that comes only when everything on your ‘to do list’ has been checked off. It’s a relief to have it all done; every last minute gift snagged, almost all the wrapping relegated to a very accommodating and willing Desi, fridges and freezers stocked and the house fully decorated both inside and out.

It had been a learning process; getting comfortable with celebrating the season while still harbouring painful childhood trauma and the memories of six Christmases with his first child. But Esme had made it easier; never pushing him to ‘get into the spirit’ and knowing what lines shouldn’t be crossing and learning to step back when the trauma of the past would begin to fester. Seeing her enjoyment of the holiday had helped; the excitement she shows over something as simple as a walk or a drive to look at other peoples’ lights, the joy she gets in buying things for the kids and keeping the magic alive and seeing their faces light up on Christmas morning. And he’d come around a little bit at a time; a distaste for the holiday becoming more bearable as the years went on and eventually being replaced with actual enjoyment and appreciation. And now that the hard work is done, it’s time to relish in accomplishment; a quiet house and the ambiance and the press of her head against his chest and the feel of her hair as it slowly slips through his fingers. He’d gladly stay there all the night; away from the giggles and chatter that drift down from their daughter’s room, lulled to sleep by the familiar weight of his wife’s body against his and the warmth that radiates from her. Nothing sexual about it; just quiet, soft intimacy in its purest form.

His eyes flicker open when he feels her move away; head lifting from the back of the couch and as her hair slips from between his fingers. “You okay?”

She gives a sheepish, almost nervous smile. “We need to talk.”

“So no, you’re not.”

“There’s nothing wrong with me. I’m okay.”

“Babe, nothing good ever comes after ‘we need to talk’.”

“Everything’s fine. The kids are good, I’m good, we’re good. Just something has been eating at me all day and I wasn’t even going to bring it up but I just know it’s going to keep me up all night if I don’t get it out.”

“How bad is this thing that’s been eating at you? Because the way you said ‘we need to talk’...”

“It’s not bad. On a scale of one to ten, ten being the worst, it’s maybe a three. A four. At the most.”

“Okay. What is it? What’s going on?”

“Before I tell you…” she turns her body to face him. “.... there’s some other things I need to say. First, I want you to promise you won’t get upset.”

“It’s obviously worse than a four if you think it’s going to upset me. It takes a lot; for you to piss me off.”

“I wouldn’t call it ‘pissing you off’. Just I can totally see why you might take it the wrong way and get defensive. And there’s no reason for you to be. Defensive.”

“It’s not about the job is it? Because we already talked about that and I already said I would stay home. Or at least if I did have to go somewhere, I’d stay completely behind the scenes. So if it’s about that…”

“It’s not about the job. That’s water under the bridge. We dealt with it. And may I add, we dealt with that very well. EXTREMELY well. You didn’t get worked up and we didn’t fight and that’s a big thing for us. A huge thing. And that’s a REALLY nice change; it shows we’re a lot stronger now.”

“So if it’s not about the job…”

“I need you to promise. That you won’t get upset. That you won’t get defensive even though it might seem like you need to be.”

“I promise. I’ll keep my shit together.”

“Second, I need you to know that I love you. More than I ever thought I could love someone. And you ARE the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Hands down. You’re an amazing husband and an even more amazing father and I couldn’t have asked for a better dad for my kids. And I appreciate you so much. Everything you do for us. For our family. How you care for us and provide for us and…”

“As nice as it is to hear all this, you’re rambling. And while I normally find that cute, it’s actually really unnerving right now. So maybe just spit it out? What’s going on? Why are you so edge? What’s got you all worked up?”

“Okay. I’m just going to ask and hope for the best. Just remember, there’s no reason to get defensive and I’m NOT accusing you of anything. It might seem like I am, but I’m not. I promise.”

“Are you going to get it out sometime today or…?”

“How friendly were you? To that neighbour the other day?”

“What neighbour?”

“The new one. The single mom. At the park. Natalie. The tall blond who looks like Sephora threw up on her face? Remember her?”

“What about her?”

“How friendly WERE you with her?”

He can’t help but laugh. “What?”

“You said you talked to her. What did you talk about?”

“You’re kidding me, right?”

“There’s a reason I’m asking. I’m not just asking to ask. I knew you met her and I know you talked to her and…”

“And what? What ARE you trying to ask? Because you said I shouldn’t get defensive and it seems like maybe I should. ARE you accusing me of something?”

“No. I’m not. I am not accusing of anything. I know you, Tyler. I know your heart. I know you love me and that you’d never, EVER cheat on me. So I am not accusing you of that. I never would.”

“So then what the fuck? What do you mean how friendly was I? When have you known me to be friendly with ANYONE? Especially people I don’t know. Are you suggesting I did something? Because that is totally it, Esme. I fucked her...in the dead of winter...in public...with my son twenty feet away. Is that what you WANT to hear?”

“No! God no. And that’s not what I’m suggesting at all. I just want to know. What you talked to her about. That’s it.”

“Why? What the hell does it matter? You’re always on my ass about how I should be more social and make an effort to meet people. Now all of a sudden you’re changing your mind? ‘Cause you’re worried about some neighbour? What the hell…?”

“Hear me out, please,” she begs, and takes both of his hands in hers. “This isn’t about me being neurotic and my self esteem issues and my weirdness about other women.”

“Seriously? Because that’s EXACTLY what this is about. This happens every fucking time we go somewhere. You get all worked up because you think women are paying attention to me. Because you think all these housewives and mothers are so thirsty they’d actually give a fuck about me. You think way too highly of me.”

“Okay, first off, no I don’t. You happen to be incredibly attractive. The blue eyes? The smile? The body? The whole vibe you’ve got going on? The resting bitch face? The tattoos and the scars and the whole intimidation factor? It’s very sexy. Whether you realize it or not. And I know you can’t help it. You’re just naturally beautiful. I’m not blaming you for that. But I do have a reason. For being the way I am. For having the issues I do.”

“Yeah, your brain is fucked up. Just as much as mine is.”

“You may not see it...all the women that check you out and thirst over you...but I do. All the time. But we’re not talking about the soccer park or the school yard. We’re talking about the park. And Natalie. The pretty single mom.”

“She’s not pretty. I don’t think she’s pretty.”

“Are you blind? You must be. Your eyes must be worse than my thought.”

“She’s not pretty. Not to me. She’s not my type.”

“You don’t have a type. In fact, your type used to be anything that walked with a wiggle.”

“I’ve had a type for the last twelve and a half years. If you want to call it having a ‘type’. You. You’re the only one that matters to me. You’re the only woman that I give a shit about. You might as well be the only one that exists on the entire fucking planet. All I want is you. That’s it. So what the fuck…?”

“She showed up here today. Asking for you.”

“Who did?”

Esme sighs in exasperation. “Natalie. The neighbour.”

“She came here?”

“And asked for you. She came calling on another woman’s husband. You don’t find that at least a little bit strange? That she would do that? That she would show up on our doorstep looking for you? You don’t find that even a little weird?”

“I find it a lot weird. I don’t know why she’d come here. I wasn’t THAT nice. It was small talk. Nothing more than that. I was my usual pleasant self.”

“Well, you certainly made an impression on her. Enough that she felt comfortable coming here. And talking to your daughter AND your wife. Let me just say, her social etiquette needs some work. She’s not as charming and witty as she thinks she is. Her people skills are a tad rusty.”

“What did she want?”

“To talk to you. To give you her cookie.”

He chuckles. “Is that a code language for…?”

“No. She literally brought you cookies. That she made for you.”

“What kind of cookies?”

Esme’s eyes narrow.

“I’m kidding. That was a joke. Probably not the best time to make one, mind you.”

“Oatmeal raisin if you need to know ALL the details.”

“Worst cookie EVER. You don’t know betrayal until you bite into one thinking it’s chocolate chip and you find out it’s THAT.”

“I’m pretty sure she was also offering up HER cookie. On a silver platter.”

“And if she was? Who the fuck cares? I don’t want anything from her. I talked to her at the park. Welcomed her to the neighbourhood. That was it. Everything else is on her. If she read too much into it, that’s her problem. Not mine. I made small talk and that was it. And you know how much I hate small talk.”

“I know YOU didn’t do anything. I know you. I know who you are and what you’re like. I wasn’t suggesting that you made a move on her or led her on or anything like that. You know that, right? That I’m not accusing you of anything?”

“I know you’re not. But it does seem like you are.”

“I know. And I don’t mean for it to sound that way. It just upset me. Her showing up here. Asking for you. That is so many shades of wrong. Why would someone do that?”

“Why would a man follow someone’s wife home from the post office? Someone’s noticeably pregnant wife.”

“That’s NOT the same thing.”

“You’re right. It’s not. It’s worse. You were pregnant with my kid. You told him you were married. And he still followed you home.”

“And you took care of it. You scared the shit out of him. Knocked him on his ass. All’s well that ends well.”

“Doesn’t mean I liked it. The fact some fucking asshole followed my wife home. You say I don’t notice things? How come you never notice all the men that pay attention to you? I notice it. Why don’t you?”

“It doesn’t happen that often.”

“It happens all the fucking time. And some of them are actually brave enough to be right out there with it. That takes a lot of balls; being that bold in front of someone’s husband. You think I like THAT? When men check you out?”

“You never say anything. You never act like it’s bothering you. If it does, why don’t you just say something?”

“Because I trust you. Because I’m secure. When it comes to knowing how you feel about me. I don’t see these guys as competition. A pain in the ass. But not competition.”

“That’s because they’re not. I don’t give a shit about any of them. I don’t want anyone else. I want you. I am perfectly happy with you. I love the way things are. With you. None of them matter to me.”

“Then why does it bother you what other women do? Why does it bother you so much? You don’t trust me?”

“What? No. I do. I DO trust you. You are not the problem. They are.”

“That doesn’t make ANY sense. How can they be a problem when I won’t let them be? I don’t give a fuck about any of them. How can they cause issues if I won’t let them? What do you think they’re going to do, Me? You can’t steal someone away unless they WANT to be. And you know what? As much as you drive me fucking insane, I am perfectly happy where I am. With who I have.”

“You don’t know what it’s like. Being around that. Those women. You don’t…”

“I DO know what it’s like. Guys check you out all the time. Do you see me going all neurotic about it?”

“Well, being neurotic IS my thing,” she sheepishly admits.

“This needs to stop. You being like this. It has been twelve and a half years of this, Me. And it’s tiring. I love you. And I have to tell you until my very last breath that I love you and I don’t want anyone else, I’ll do it. But it doesn’t mean it it doesn’t grate on my fucking nerves.”

“You knew I was like this. You knew my issues. Going into things. If they pissed you off THAT bad…”

“They don’t piss me off. Is it annoying, yes? Can I live with it? Also a yes. I will put up with it. Until my dying day. Because I love you. But I would give anything to put an end to it.”

“I can’t help it. Being like this. I’m not you, Tyler. You’re secure and you’re confident and you’re able to just ignore other men.”

“Because I trust you.”

“And I trust YOU. You are NOT the problem. And I know it doesn’t make any sense to you. Me worrying about other women when I know for a fact you’d never cheat on me. But I do. Worry about them.”

“Why? Tell me why you worry about them? What do you think they’re going to do, Esme? Tell me. What do you think is going to happen?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“That is NOT an acceptable answer for anyone over six. Try again.”

“I honestly don’t know. I don’t know what I’m thinking. But you don’t hear what they say. The women at the soccer park on the school yard. I do. I hear it. I hear them talking about how ugly and plain and boring looking I am and how they can’t understand why someone like you would be with someone like me,” she struggles to hold back a threatening flood of tears. “They don’t hide it, Tyler. They don’t talk about these things in secret. They make sure I hear it. And you know what? It hurts. A lot. And if I tell you something hurts me, you don’t have the right to tell me it doesn’t.”

“I’m not doing that, babe. I’m not saying it shouldn’t hurt you. And I’m sorry. That it does. That you hear stuff like that.”

“Why are you sorry? It’s not your fault. You can’t help what they say.”

“Do you want me to say something? To them? The next time I pick the kids up? Because I will. I’m not shy when it comes to telling people off. You know that. And when it comes to protecting you…”

“It would just make things worse. I can just hear them now. Talking about what a cry baby I am and how you deserve a real woman. Don’t say anything. It’ll just set them off. Things are bad enough as they are.”

“Why don’t you tell them to fuck off? You usually don’t back away from shit like that.”

“Because that’s our kids’ school and we’ve been on the principal’s shit list before and I don’t want to make things hard on our kids. But it does bother me. Hearing that stuff. And it DOES hurt.”

“But it shouldn’t. That’s what I’m saying. Just let go in one ear and out the other. Who gives a fuck what they think? What does it matter? I love you. I have always loved you. I always WILL love you. You’re the most beautiful woman in the world to me. Isn’t that enough? What I think? Why isn’t that enough?”

“I don’t know. I want it to be. And I know it should be. I know you love me. I’ve never doubted that. Not even during those six months. Even then, I knew you did. You just needed to get your shit together. I don’t know why it bothers me so much. I don’t why I’m like this. Why I can’t get past it. I think I’m getting better and then something happens and it’s back to square one.”

“Your mom fucked you up. So did Mark. You went through a lot of shit. Especially with him. But I’m not Mark, Esme.”

“I know. I know you’re not.”

“Do you? Because sometimes I’m not sure you do.”

The tears come freely now; body trembling with the force of the emotions that accompany them. And he places a hand on the back of her neck and pulls her into him; a forearm across the small of her back as her body presses tightly against his and her arms immediately circle his neck.

“I’m sorry,” she sobs against his shoulder. “I never meant to make you feel that way. Like I was comparing you to him.”

“I know.” One hand repeatedly strokes his hair, the other settling at the small of her back. “I know you didn’t.”

“Because you’re NOT him. You’re nothing like him. And I’ve never thought you are. I’m sorry, Tyler. For making you that feel that way. I never meant it.”

“I know you didn’t. It’s okay, Me. He fucked you up. Badly. I’m just the guy that came after. The one that has to try and clean up his mess. And if it takes the rest of my life to do that? Then I’ll deal with it. I can’t make it better. I can’t take it all away; make it like it never happened. I wish I could.”

“I don’t want to be this way. I don’t want to be crazy and neurotic and a freaking mess.”

“Well if it’s any consolation, you’re a beautiful mess.”

She manages a small laugh. “I don’t know what to do. To make this better. To make ME better. And it’s not fair to you. To have to deal with this shit.”

“I’ve brought more shit to the table than you have. And you’ve always dealt with it. I figure it’s the least I can do. Put up with your crap.”

“I don’t want to be like this. I can’t live like this for the rest of my life. I just can’t. But I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t know how to fix me. And it shouldn’t be up to you to do it.”

“You’re my wife. You’re the mother of my kids. I love you. It’s what we do. Help each other. Fix one another. You’re not in this by yourself.” He presses a kiss to her temple and tightens his hold on her. “It’s going to be okay. We’ll figure it out. We’ll get you past all this.”

“What if we can’t? What if it CAN’T be fixed?”

“Then we live it. I spent the rest of my life constantly reassuring you that I’m not going anywhere. That I love you and think you’re the most beautiful in the world. If that’s what it takes, I’ll do it. I’ll take one for the team.”

“You’re so generous,” she chides. “Always so willing to sacrifice yourself.”

“Well, we do crazy shit for love. When we get home, you should go and talk to Doctor Klein. Tell him what’s going on. How you’ve been feeling. If anyone can figure shit out, it’s him.”

“You’ll come with me, right? I think you should. Come with me.”

“You know I will. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

She pulls away to look at him, sitting back at her heels. “Nothing?”

“Nothing,” he declares, and lays his hands on the sides of her face and uses his thumbs to wipe away the lingering tears.

“I know all snotty nose and puffy eyed isn’t my best look, but maybe we could have sex now?”

He grins. “Maybe. Would it make you feel better?”

She nods. “Being worshipped ALWAYS makes me feel better.”

“What can I say? I’m always willing to cheer you up. Besides, your body’s a temple, babe. It deserves to be worshipped.”

“It’s a temple, alright. Ancient and crumbling. Probably haunted.”

“It’s beautiful,” his hands move to the front of the plaid shirt she wears; enormous and baggy on her tiny frame. “And sexy.”

“Even after seven kids?”

His fingers tend to opening the buttons on the shirt. “ESPECIALLY after seven kids.”

“You always have the right thing to say. Your sweet talking is improving.”

“I thought you preferred dirty talk?”

“I do. Dirty talk is my favourite. Especially YOUR dirty talk. That voice? That accent? I’m wet just thinking about it.”

“Yeah?” With a playful smirk, he forcibly shoves her onto her back; a palm on either side of her head as outstretched arms brace his much heavier and bulkier frame. “In that case, shut up and let me fuck you.”