#i would definitely prefer white since we already have two black/white albums...but???

[yiangchen]

i'm confused. the album cover for ttpd is black/white, so why is everyone saying the color for the album is white alone?

[squadrablog]

Would you consider a reader (whatever gender interests you)/Ghiaccio fic? Scenario: he's trying to impress the person he's dating with White Album tricks to varying success. Most Ghiaccio content, regardless of if its reader!fic or not, writes him as abusive, demeaning, or boils him down to angry screaming and nothing else, so it'd be refreshing to see something that's not that!

I have to admit that the use of the word “tricks” really threw me off, but I pieced together some sort of coherent scenario based on the premise. Most of my work went into the other part of your request, because I 100% agree with your thoughts on Ghiaccio’s typical characterization. I hope you like it! (Also this goes for this fic as well as what I’ve written before but I haven’t mentioned it, my use of italics is preserved on Ao3 but not on tumblr. Just a heads up.)

Ghiaccio x They/them Reader (some feminine language used)

Ao3 Mirror Here.

Word Count: 5393

Warnings: Uhhh. None this time as far as I can tell!

Under cut for length!

“So are you going to help or not?” Ghiaccio grumbled under his breath. Formaggio was currently leaned back leisurely in the base’s common room recliner with a smug grin on his face, basking in the rare moment of Ghiaccio’s humility.

“Sorry, sorry,” Formaggio said, finally leaning forward, placing his elbows on his knees and chin on top of his knuckles. “I just don’t want to forget the time that Ghiaccio came to me for relationship advice.”

Ghiaccio was practically biting down on his tongue to keep from snapping at him, but the truth was Formaggio was the most experienced in the art of romance relative to all his other squadmates and he really was desperate for any help he could get.

What else was he going to do, ask Melone? Yeah, right.

“I just need your help deciphering some shit they said, don’t get a big head about it,” Ghiaccio said, leaning back in his spot on the couch and crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re better than me at...  people.” It was a tough thing to admit out loud, but Ghiaccio’s social awkwardness was of course no secret to anyone who knew him. For all the talent he had reading people’s intentions in the midst of a battle, when it came to his interpersonal relationships he felt less capable. Of course, that was on other people and their arbitrary social conventions, not him.

But you were different. You said what you meant and spoke in plain language without ulterior meanings or motivations, and you accommodated him and his idiosyncrasies in all the ways that mattered. In fact, you were such a nice change of pace from other people that he tended to overthink everything you said out of habit, projecting hidden meanings where they normally would have existed with others.

“Lay it on me, dude. I’ve gotcha,” Formaggio assured him, his smirk turning into something a bit more cordial and supportive. Ghiaccio let out a deep exhale before talking again.

“We were on a date and I don’t remember what we were even talking about, but they give me this… weird smile,” Ghiaccio began. “And they said ‘Ghiaccio, it’s okay to be more vulnerable around me.’ Said that I could ‘trust them,’ and that if things are going to get any more serious between us they want to see more of the ‘real me.’” He leaned forward as he steepled his fingers. “They know, don’t they?”

“Know what?” Formaggio asked, his eyebrow raised.

“What I do for a living, what else!? They figured it out and now they expect me to say it out loud,” Ghiaccio said, throwing his hands up in the air. “That’s what that means, right? The ‘real me’ they’re talking about?” Formaggio gave a small chuckle and Ghiaccio turned to shoot him a glare. What was so funny about your safety, as well as La Squadra’s, being compromised?

“Dude…” Formaggio said, trying his best to keep a straight face. “You’re fine, chill ou- I mean… calm down.” Ghiaccio mercifully let the original choice of words slide. “If they did know, that’s not how they’d bring it up. No, what they’re trying to tell you is,” Formaggio began, leaning over in the recliner towards the edge of the couch to clap his hand on Ghiaccio’s shoulder, looking him dead in the eyes, “you’re not romantic enough.”

Ghiaccio crinkled his nose at that, but tried to stop himself from getting immediately defensive. “What do you mean exactly?”

“I know you already know this, so don’t freak out if I actually say it, but you’re not exactly… the suavest guy. Or the best at flirting.”

“We’re already together, what do I have to flirt for?” Ghiaccio said, his eyes narrowing.

“See? That’s exactly what I mean! You said they like cute stuff and sweet foods and cuddling right? Someone like that definitely wants you getting a little mushy and lovey-dovey. Everything you say about them makes them out to be this real sweetheart, but the way you say it is always so… technical. So analytical!”

“They say my attention to detail is one of my best qualities,” Ghiaccio protested.

“I don’t doubt it. Look, you’ve got plenty of passion, and based on how much inane shit you know about them that I think they don’t even know about themself, you’re very attentive.” Formaggio might have chosen to say ‘neurotic’ instead, but it was obvious Ghiaccio genuinely loved you and he was trying to compliment him to soften his initial criticisms. “It just sounds like they’re looking for a different side from you as well. The charming heartthrob buried deep within that hard bitter exterior.”

“How is any of that the real me?” Ghiaccio asked, his eyebrows furrowed. Was this really what you had meant? Were you not satisfied by the way he was currently showing his affection? Did the ‘vulnerability’ you talked about really mean you wanted more sappy saccharine schlock?

“It isn’t… yet,” Formaggio said with a wink and a finger gun in his direction. “I’ve got a few ideas though that’ll spark that flame.”

“...I control ice,” Ghiaccio said flatly.

“That you do,” Formaggio said, his eyes twinkling. “That you do.”

---

“Hey, babe,” Ghiaccio said after you opened your front door for him, his posture a bit stiff, one hand behind his back, and his eyes staring at you intensely.

“Babe?” you asked with a laugh, raising your eyebrow. The usage of a nickname was strange enough on its own, but the way he said it was so wooden.

“Does that bother you?” he asked bluntly, his eyebrows furrowing in concentration. “Is there a name you prefer?”

“Whatever comes easiest,” you said with an amused smile.“Which for you is usually just my name, right?”

“I just thought I’d try it out,” he said with a shrug, trying to look unaffected by how you had brought attention to the unnatural way he said it. “Anyway, I got you this.”

Ghiaccio usually never came to your apartment empty handed. Before picking you up for a date he always met you at the door with the intention of handing off whatever he had before the two of you headed out. While they weren’t exactly ‘gifts,’ he always brought exactly what you needed, usually before you had even realized you needed it.

One time he came over and saw that you were low on milk, and the next day before you two headed out he had a gallon in his hand when you opened the door for him. Another time he brought a new lightbulb for the lamp in your living area, and once he replaced the old one you couldn’t believe you had been living in such awful lighting conditions for so long without realizing it. It had been the right wattage, right size, and it even had the LED filaments you liked that gave the light a warm natural texture.

Today he had a box of chocolates. You took the box and gave them a look-over. It clearly wasn’t from a grocery store; they looked expensive. Needlessly so. Sometimes Ghiaccio would spend a little extra on things he knew you really needed or things that you had personally expressed you wanted. You liked chocolates well enough, but they weren’t exactly your favorite, and you were pretty sure he already knew that.

“Fancy,” you murmured. “What’s the occasion?” You smiled up at him, tilting your head to the side. While you of course appreciated the gesture and were not ungrateful to receive free chocolate, it was very out of character for him and you were beginning to get suspicious.

“Do I need an excuse to treat you?” he asked, scratching the back of his head a bit sheepishly.

“I guess not. Thank you very much, Ghiaccio. I really appreciate it.” You said it genuinely, and you gave him one of your sweet smiles that always made him smile back involuntarily. You turned around to head to the kitchen and set them on the counter. “Let me just get my jacket and we’ll head out!” you called back at him.

“The weather is going to be warm today,” Ghiaccio blurted out, a bit too quickly. “I don’t think you’ll need it.” You turned around and your eyes raked over him before you met his gaze again.

“But you need one?”

He was indeed wearing a red athletic jacket, to match his glasses, over his black turtleneck shirt. He turned away from your eyes. “I dressed before I checked,” he mumbled as an excuse.

You supposed it seemed warm enough out, even if you thought you should bring your jacket just in case it got chilly later since the seasons were changing. But that still didn’t give a reasonable explanation for Ghiaccio’s behavior right now. You acquiesced, which seemed to appease him, and headed out with him to his car. You’d ask him what was on his mind once you were on the road.

“Hey, what’s that?” Ghiaccio asked suddenly, pointing to the side as the two of you approached his car in your complex’s parking lot. You followed the direction of his finger before you suddenly lost your footing on a smooth slippery surface, yelping and falling forward towards the asphalt in a mess of flailing limbs.

You were saved, however, by Ghiaccio’s arms catching you as you collided with his chest, awkwardly clutching at him, a bit frazzled by the near-fall.

“Watch your step,” he said, with something playful about his tone. You glanced up and he was giving you what looked like a friendly smile, although it didn’t reach his eyes. Usually if this kind of thing happened he’d be cursing under his breath as he fussed over you, making sure you were alright. While you were glad he wasn’t getting worked up right now, it still stood out as yet another strange change in behavior.

“Thanks…” you breathed out, righting yourself. His arms were wrapped around you just a moment longer than they needed to be, and when he let go you turned around to look at the ground, only to see nothing of interest. “What did I even slip on?”

“I don’t know, but I’m right here if you slip on anything else,” Ghiaccio said, his hand slapping down on your shoulder. You gave him an incredulous look, and a small huff. Now that you actually had time to process it you had to ask yourself what the hell happened. Was that fall somehow on purpose? If you didn’t know Ghiaccio any better you’d think he was just trying to play the dashing hero there. But you did know him better, which is why it didn’t add up.

“I probably wouldn’t have slipped if you hadn’t distracted me,” you asked, your eyes narrowing before you turned back towards the direction he had pointed earlier. “What were you even trying to show me?” It seemed like he didn’t have an explanation ready, fumbling over his words.

“Sorry,” was what he settled on, facing away from your gaze, his cheeks saturated with a bit more red as he looked properly embarrassed. Sorry for what exactly you weren’t entirely sure since it wasn’t an explanation, but you would drop it for the moment, if only to give him the proper time to come up with the right words. Obviously there was something deeper on his mind that was making him act strange, and when that was the case he needed time to reflect before he spoke so it didn’t come out as a frenzied incoherent mess.

It was quiet in the car at first, as he scrunched his eyebrows up while he got lost in thought. Once you had been driving for a bit he finally spoke. “You know I’m committed to this relationship, right?” he asked, his tone wavering just a bit.

You smiled. “Of course I know that. You show me that every time we’re together.”

“But I’ve never said it,” he said, sparing half a second to glance at you before his eyes were back on the road.

“You don’t need to.” You set your elbow down on the center console and turned towards him. “You’ve been really weird since you picked me up. Is everything okay, Ghiaccio?”

He quickly glanced over again and let out a small sigh. “I just want today’s date to be special.”

You gave him a quizzical look, which he couldn’t see, before leaning back in your chair. You hadn’t made any grand plans for today other than going for a walk at the park and getting some dinner together later in the evening, but perhaps Ghiaccio had planned some sort of surprise that he was nervous about? You’d let his weird behavior slide and not prompt him for details for now, as curious as you were, if it meant you were going to get a proper explanation eventually.

---

Ghiaccio knew he was already off to a bad start. Formaggio made it all sound so easy, but it seemed like the more he tried to turn up the charm the more awkward it made things. He hadn’t wanted to orchestrate a situation that would cause you to slip on some ice he summoned with White Album, but Formaggio said that saving you would get you all flustered. You mostly seemed annoyed. Ghiaccio just felt like an asshole.

Why did he spend so much money on chocolates when he could think of a dozen other sweets you’d enjoy way more? Formaggio said chocolates were ‘classic’ and the price tag would show just how thoughtful he was. He had spent so much time trying to find the highest quality chocolate possible that he forgot to pick you up shampoo like he had planned. Last time he was over at your place he noticed your hair smelled different, like the old backup shampoo you used when you ran out of the stuff you liked.

While the two of you took your stroll at the park Ghiaccio was a lot less talkative than usual, trying to split his attention between listening to you and convincing himself to go through with another one of Formaggio’s suggestions.

He slowly began lowering the temperature around the both of you in small increments over the course of your walk so that you wouldn’t notice the change right away, and although he had been uncharacteristically quiet so far he finally spoke up once he saw you shiver.

“Are you cold?” he asked suddenly, cutting you off just before you could finish your current sentence, which you were noticeably unhappy about.

“Yeah, a bit actually,” you said, wrapping your arms around yourself, looking up at the sky. “Even though it’s really sunny out.”

“Do you want to borrow my jacket?” Ghiaccio asked, already slipping it off himself.

“I wouldn’t need it if you’d let me bring my own,” you said, giving him a peeved look and a half-smile. He awkwardly started to drape the jacket over your shoulders. “But thanks.”

There was an uncomfortable pause in talking as you two walked for a bit before Ghiaccio said: “You look cute,” and after a beat, “In my jacket.”

You just shrugged, turning to give him a halfhearted smirk. “Bright red and sporty isn’t exactly my style.”

Ghiaccio let out an involuntary shiver of his own, not realizing he had unconsciously been letting the temperature continue to drop. You frowned at him before shrugging the jacket off and handing it back to him.

“I don’t need-” he grumbled defensively, but you moved to stand in front of him, stopping him in his tracks. You draped the jacket over his shoulders like he had done to you and then zipped him all the way up before he had even moved to put his arms through the sleeves properly.

“You look cuter in your own jacket,” you said, before walking on ahead while he fumbled with his arms, his cheeks heating up at the predicament you left him in. Once you were a little ways away and out of the range of where he had focused White Album you called back, “I think it’s warming up again, anyway!”

“Get back here, you clown!” he shouted back at you, finally getting his arms where they needed to be. Since that had panned out so poorly, Ghiaccio just called off his stand and jogged ahead until he was back in line with you. All this had managed to do was make him feel like a real jerk for telling you to leave your jacket at home just so he could offer you his. It was so utterly transparent, shamefully so.

“Hm… ‘clown’ sounds much more natural coming out of your mouth than ‘babe,’ does,” you said. You had a bit of a skip in your step that you didn’t have before, and he was glad that getting back at him had improved your mood. His expression softened when you smiled earnestly at him. You bit your lip for a second, looking a bit more hesitant, before you asked: “Are you done trying to be a romcom cliche yet?”

“Is that what I’m doing?” Ghiaccio said with a small scoff. Of course it was. Everything he’d been doing felt so fake in his own mind and body, so there was no way you weren’t seeing right through him. 

“Is it not?” you asked with a quiet laugh, your smile falling just a bit. “Is there something wrong, Ghia?”

God, whenever you called him Ghia he always had a hard time keeping his cool. He grabbed your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours, his gaze fixed forward and his jaw set tight, his face starting to match his jacket in color. “No,” he said firmly. “Nothing is wrong. I’m just being stupid.”

You squeezed his hand. He wasn’t big on PDA, and considering the context of everything else you were still unconvinced he was okay. “You don’t have to do things you don’t like just because-” you started, but he squeezed your hand a bit harder than you had to his.

“I’m holding your hand because I want to,” he said, plainly, if not a bit embarrassed. “Getting you chocolates was stupid, you never get chocolates on your own if you have a choice on sweets. Making you leave your jacket at home was stupid, you’re too pragmatic to rely on me to give you one, and too considerate to keep it on while I’m cold. But I’m doing this,” he said while giving your hand a softer squeeze, “because I want to.”

The matter-of-factness of it cleared all your doubts, and you blushed a bit yourself. Ghiaccio knew you very well, and it wasn’t empty flattery or false acts of chivalry that got your heart going. It was things like the systematic way in which he described the things he noticed you liked or that he found attractive about you. Or the way he surprised you with genuine moments of vulnerability like this that you longed to see more of.

The two of you finished out your walk in silence, a comfortable one this time, hand-in-hand.

---

“I do trust you,” Ghiaccio said, a bit of a non-sequitur since it was unprompted by your current topic of conversation. You were both at the restaurant that you had made reservations for, seated at an outdoor table on a rooftop with a nice overlook of Naples. You had your jacket on; Ghiaccio had insisted that the both of you go back to your apartment to pick it up, and now that you were out in the crisp early evening air you were glad. “I need you to know that I do.”

He scratched the back of his neck, thinking of the best way to say what he wanted to say. “But when you said you wanted me to be more vulnerable, what did you mean? Because it obviously wasn’t whatever the fuck I tried doing today.”

“That was your take on ‘vulnerability’?” you asked with a barely restrained laugh.

“No. It was Formaggio’s take,” he clarified, looking off into the distance with a grumpy expression. You had never met Formaggio, but you had heard many stories about the man and his various antics. “He said you wanted me to be more romantic.”

“Maybe? But not if it’s forced and you set up convoluted situations yourself like some sort of jackass chessmaster. I also said I wanted to see the ‘real you’. Where did that factor in?” You raised an eyebrow at him as you took another bite of your meal.

“I don’t know,” Ghiaccio admitted with a groan, poking at his food and scowling.

“When I said I want you to be vulnerable I meant that I want you to do things like… how you held my hand because that’s what you wanted to do, not because you thought you should. Or things like… I’ve seen you happy, and just about everyone has seen you angry, but I’ve never seen you sad, or afraid, or… well, I hadn’t seen you particularly shy before, but I guess you showed me that today, even if you weren’t trying to,” you said with a smirk.

“You don’t need to deal with my bullshit,” Ghiaccio said, looking at you with an unreadable expression. You frowned.

“Ghiaccio, I want to deal with your bullshit, I want you to rely on me! I also want to know more about the person you are on your own, outside this relationship. You’re always so closed off about things like your personal life.”

Ghiaccio looked back at his food with furrowed brows, stabbing at it a little harder and more frequently. “What if you don’t like the ‘real me’?”

“Ghiaccio.” You reached across the table to grab his free hand, but he just scrunched his neck further down into himself, withdrawing like a turtle. “I love you.”

He stared at you blankly, before his fork was clattering to the ground in his frantic attempt to take your hand in both of his. “Are you fucking serious!?” he spat out, causing several other diners to look over at your table. He had been thinking the same thing for a long while now, but he had been too anxious to say it out loud.

“Dead fucking serious,” you confirmed with a big smile.

In that moment he really felt like he could tell you everything. About Passione, about being an assassin, about stands, even about the lofty goals his squad had for taking the whole criminal empire for themselves. And maybe he would, but right now he realized that he was staring at you slack-jawed like an oaf.

“I love you too!” he said, letting go with one of his hands to slap the table to punctuate his next declarations. “So goddamn much, I’m thinking about you all the fucking time, about how much I don’t fucking deserve you, about how beautiful you are, about how you always eat what you like the least first so that you end your meals on the best note possible,” he said, gesturing to your plate of food, the central part of the dish still untouched as you worked on everything else around it. You brought your hand up to hide your growing blush and stifle a giddy chuckle. He would often compliment you, and he would often get worked up, but rarely did he ever get worked up over complimenting you.

“Ghia, you’re going to make a scene,” you said, more for the sake of appearances than anything as the other patrons watched your table. Honestly, you could listen to him shout praises at you all night.

Eventually after he got everything out of his system he was panting a little from the exertion of it all. “How’s that… for vulnerable…?” he asked between exhales.

“It’s an improvement,” you said with a cheeky grin.

“I had one last thing planned for our date, but I wasn’t sure if I should go through with it after everything.” He smiled at you, one of those rare gentle smiles where all the creases in his brow smoothed out. “But I think you’ll like it.”

“Oh?” you asked. So he did have a big surprise planned after all?

You waved a waiter over and after you paid the bill you and Ghiaccio were soon back in his car, driving down unfamiliar streets towards what was for you an unknown destination.

---

“What do you mean ‘closed for repairs’!?” Ghiaccio demanded of the person on the other side of his phone call, trying once again to open the locked doors in front of him. “The lights are on in there and I can see the rink from here! Looks frozen to me!”

After a few more frustrated exchanges on the call he hung up. “Apparently the system is malfunctioning and it’s not safe to skate on it,” Ghiaccio grumbled, pressing his face up against the door of the ice skating rink one more time, watching the various maintenance workers move about, pointedly ignoring the irate blue haired man banging on the front entrance.

“It’s okay, we can do it another time,” you consoled him. “I can’t ice skate anyway.” You had never expressed interest in it before, and while it seemed like a fun thing for a couple to do you weren’t exactly too excited about trying it or too disappointed that you couldn’t.

“We weren’t going to be-” he huffed out before trailing off, rubbing a hand down his face in annoyance. “Okay, originally Formaggio had pitched this as another one of his schemes, but I didn’t bring you here to pretend to teach you how to skate while you stumbled around. Instead I was thinking… I wanted to show you something.”

You tilted your head to the side. “Show me what?”

“Look… I’ve got one more idea to make this work out, and if it doesn’t then I’ll tell you. But I really want to show you first if I can. If we head out now it’ll still be light enough,” he insisted, heading back towards the car. You followed after him, your curiosity now piqued.

You two were in the car for a while as you noticed you were getting farther and farther away from the city and out onto the countryside. When you pulled up to a makeshift dirt parking lot at the top of a small hill you realized where you were.

“I used to come to this lake a lot when I was a kid,” you mused quietly. “I hope you aren’t thinking it’s going to be frozen over? It’s way too warm for that.”

“Well, I guess we’ll have to see,” he said with a smug grin. You just raised an eyebrow at that response. “Can I ask you to stay in the car for a few minutes?”

“Sure…?” you said slowly, watching as he exited the car and disappeared down the side of the hill. Not too much time had passed and he was walking back up the hill and towards the back of the car, popping the trunk then closing it, before eventually coming around to your door. You opened it and let yourself out, noticing that Ghiaccio was holding laces in his hand with a pair of shoes slung it over his shoulder, and based on context those were probably ice skates. Did Ghiaccio really like skating enough to own his own pair? He’d never mentioned it as a hobby before today.

Soon the two of you were trudging through some dense foliage and over to the side of a lake that was inexplicably frozen. You stared at it, wide-eyed.

“What the…?” you muttered, turning towards Ghiaccio with an expression that demanded answers. He offered none, giving you another smug smile before sitting down on a rock. “How did you know it was going to be… it hasn’t even snowed yet this year!”

“I’ll tell you later tonight, if you really want to know,” he said. And he meant it. But right now there was something else he wanted to show you. “But I didn’t bring you here for the lake.”

You were able to suspend your incredulity for his sake, though it wasn’t easy. After the shock of the lake had fizzled out a little you watched him take the very nice, if not a little bit worn down, pair of ice skates in his hands. He slipped off the shoes he was currently wearing and slid his feet into the skates, lacing them up, while you watched him in silence.

“So you’re going to skate… by yourself?” you asked, arching an eyebrow at him. “And I’m just going to do what, watch?”

“That’s the idea,” he said, finishing up and standing himself upright, maneuvering to the lake’s edge, and before you could complain he shot you one last look, a genuine smile, before he pushed himself onto the ice.

Your boyfriend didn’t share a lot of things with you, but you were surprised that he never saw fit to mention the fact that he was apparently a professional Olympic-level figure skater. Your initial shock at the state of the lake was completely forgotten as you watched him dance across the ice with a level of precision and grace that you had never expected from the man.

And he was pulling out all the stops to show off for you. Spinning in the air, skating low and practically parallel to the ground, skating backwards, skating on one leg with the other poised far behind him in the air. Every jump he made looked too risky, too intense to possibly land smoothly, but as you stood mesmerized you could almost swear that the ice raised up to meet him each time.

After his initial bout of tricks, he skated back over to you and his face looked more relaxed and content than you had ever seen it. “Impressed?” he asked with a confident lilt to his voice.

“Ghia… you’re incredible,” you said, still in a daze. “Why didn’t you tell me you skated?”

“Because I don’t,” he said, his posture tensing a bit, his expression almost embarrassed. “Not anymore. I’m banned from every major figure skating organization in Italy.”

“Oh my God, what happened?” you muttered, finally snapping back to reality and looking up at him with concerned eyes.

“Scandals. Sabotage. None of it helped by my temper,” he grumbled. “It’s this whole big fucking complicated nightmare that I don’t want to talk about right now.” He gestured for you to come meet him at the edge of the lake, and you stepped forward, taking your hands in his as he held them out. “But I loved figure skating. It was the best time of my life, before I met you, and I’m tired of pretending that time never existed. Even if all I can do now is share it with you, then that’s still something.”

“Oh, Ghiaccio, it’s okay” you cried out, your tone consoling, wrapping your arms around him in a firm hug, causing him to stumble a bit on his skates. “I love you so much. Thank you for sharing this part of you with me. I love you, I love you!”

“I get it, I get it, I love you too, you’re going to push me over!” he yelled, trying to pry you off of him. Eventually you released him and stepped back to flash him a tender smile, tears threatening to spill over the corners of your eyes. “What are you crying for?” he muttered, looking away from your intense expression.

“You were crying first!” you shot back, your tears finally flowing. Ghiaccio brought his hand up to his face and realized that he had indeed been gently weeping for a while and it had gone completely unnoticed by him. He huffed before turning around and skating away. “Don’t you skate away from your feelings, Mister!” you called after him.

You watched him skate for some time, seeing him getting lost in his own world out on the lake, chasing after something he thought he’d left behind. He was beautiful. Utterly beautiful. The whole night had been magic, the impossible frozen lake something from another realm. Eventually it got too dark to see properly before the both of you headed up the hill to the car, hand-in-hand.

[darling-of-dark]

Rock, Relationships, and Roses

Hey y’all I just wanted to thank  you so much for reading this fic it’s only my second fic ever so please be kind! Also this is a crack fic and attempt attempt at my dry humor and I didn’t edit it because I was so excited to post it so I hope u enjoy!

~Chapter one~

“Ms.archoron, are you paying any attention at all?”

Feyre's head flew up as Mr. Cran dropped a text book next to her head, “sorry, i had-” “My class is not for sleeping ,its for learning now back to the revolutionary war…”

Feyre once again drowned out the sound of mr. cran as she stared at the clock 6 more hours till the show she thought it had been months of envious waiting to see if nesta had got the job for being the photographer for the city paper. Last night they had gotten the call and three free backstage passes for the show.

As soon as the bell rang, Eeyre was out of the class and running down the hall out the doors and to the bus stop. When feyre got home nesta was in the living room sleeping on the couch drool running down out of her mouth

“Up up up up we're going to be late! And if we're late we won't have time to talk to them”

With a loud grown nesta had gotten off the couch. Nesta had heard of the job through clare who interns for the velaris times and she only recognised the name from the giant poster in Feyre’s bedroom wingspan apparently they were a big rock group, witch was not nestas cup of tea she preferred classical music and melodies but definitely not screamo, feyre played it so loud it hurt her ears and almost got them evicted from the dingy downtown two bedroom apartment that there father had left them with three years ago, that and 50,000 dollars in debt. Sense then nesta had been working three jobs so Elain and feyre could go to school full time.

“Look what i picked up on my detore to school this morning” feyre said as she pulled out a necklace from the side pocket

“Where the hell did you get that, oh gods feyre what have i told you about stealing?” nesta said as she looked on the price

“this costs more than our heating bill”

“Oh come on nes if its chain it's free rain, plus the alarm was so easy to get off its like they were asking for it to be stolen” when nesta gave her the “look” she shoved it in nestas hand

“It is for you by the way , don't worry I took the earrings and the bracelet is for Elain” Feyre said, pushing her hair back to reveal the matching earring. Nesta could admit it was a beautiful gold chain with a seated red swarovski crystal

“Uh know to wear to the best night of our lives to night!”

“Well thank you yuh damn klepto”

~~~

“What the hell” rhys said as he was awoken by a crash from the dressing room next door, he got off the couch and banged on the door

“Shut the fuck up i was trying to sleep”

“Uh sorry we’ll try to keep it down a little more” Cassian said as Rhys rolled his eyes when he heard a girl laughing from the other side of the door. rhys walked back over to his room and sat back on the couch , he knew he wasn't going to sleep there was no point in even trying insomnia was a pain in the ass and definitely not a friend of his , it kept him awake at night he tried every vitamin and medication but it only ever lasted a few days and left him with night terrors that woke everyone on the tour bus.it was no use 1 to 2 hours was a average night for him. The band had been touring for one year and was almost done , of course until the next tour it was a never ending hell that had been happening for the past 5 years since their debut album.

“Excuse me mr.moon sir?” rhys heard from the outside of the door

“Yes?”

“ sound check is in 15”

“Yeah yeah whatever” rhys said in an aggravated tone. It was three hours till the show and already there were people lined down the streets of velaris to see them perform and if rhys was being honest it was the only thing keeping him going , at first it was a dream all the money, partying and girls but now it wasn't enough he was sick and tired of it all.

~~~

“ come on we have to be there early” feyre said just as elaine was finishing up her makeup

“Okay ,okay I'm coming” elain said walking down the hall “how do I look?” Elain knew grayson was going to be there he bought tickets 10 months ago for him and Elain but his friend ended up wanting to go with him instead and she was so happy to surprise him since he couldn't get uhhuh ticket

“So hot I love it, ” Feyre said. Elain was dressed in a black tee from the band tee that had a cut at the cleavage and dark jeans with boots, defity far from her usual pink and flower apparel all the time.

Nesta stepped out of her room with a black cardigan white tank crop top and leggings with a camera bag slung over her shoulder

“That's what you're wearing to a rock concert? You look like a pta mom on the go” feyre said as she walked toward the door

“ oh shut up its for work, you to are the ones going for fun”

“Your never going to get a boyfriend looking like that”

“Yeah definitely no boys for me tonight”

When the city bus dropped them off they still had to walk three block because of the blocked roads and then to find there way to the back door that was hounded by mass amounts of fan girls they had to pry there why throh to get to the door when they got in nesta started snapping pictures of everything from people to the equipment she had major competition for the best photos. Feyre was losing her mind Elain would've put money on it that she had never seen feyre this happy. Elain couldn't have cared less that she was backstage; she really wanted to find Grayson so she wandered off to the floor seats to do just that well Feyre was looking around and Nesta was taking as many photos as possible.

Nesta found her way over to the snack table and picked up a chocolate covered strawberry and took a bite

“Well it seems i went looking for a snack and found a whole meal” nesta jumped as she heard this she quickly turned around and was met with a smirking 6’4 man

“Im sorry what ?”

“I definitely haven't seen you around before are you an intern?”

“No i'm with the news paper velaris times” nesta said as she picked up the camera in her hand

“Well, miss newspaper lady, do you have a name ?”

“Nesta , and do you snack table boy?” the man looked slightly confused but said

“Cass , it's a pleasure to meet you. Would you like to accompany me to my bed tonight nesta ?”nesta raised her eyebrows in confusion

“ Wow, how charming does that usually work for you? Asking a random girl to sleeping with you”

“Yes actually”

“To bad it doesn't work on me”

“How about dinner after the show?”

“Dinner? The show ends at 1 am”

“ how about dinner tomorrow night?”

“ I can’t and I don’t want to go to dinner with someone who just wants to get into my pants”

“ your loss then sweetheart” nesta watched cass walked away toward the dressing rooms and wondered what the hell just happened

~~~

It was five minutes before show time when Rhys could hear the crowd chanting over and over again “we want wingspan, we want wingspan, we want wingspan” it was a never ending chant.

As rhys walked out on the black stage he grabbed his bass guitar and walked toward the mic as cassian walked toward his drum set and az to his guitar, the music started and strobe lights started moving, it was always the same rhys thought until his eyes landed on a girl in the front of the mosh pit, seeing all the people jumping around till his eyes were stuck on a guy who pushed over a girl and she fell straight to the ground hitting her head on the concrete floor passing out .



[yellowmagicalgirl]

Once and Maybe Future Chapter 14: Incognito Patrol

When Nimue sees a girl with far too many hairclips and radiating dark magic, it's up to her and Douxie to save Arcadia.

Heyyy, yes I know it's been over six months since I last updated and this fic is now very much not canon compliant. At least this chapter is half the length of all the previous chapters combined.

Originally this was going to be a single chapter covering the events of both "Night Patroll"/"Terra Incognita II" as well as "So I'm Dating a Sorceress" and "The Exorcism of Claire Nuñez", but due to the length I decided to only have it cover the events of "Night Patroll"/"Terra Incognita II" in this chapter; another chapter is going to finally get around to the Clairegana-and-Douxie confrontation and not just the aftermath.

AO3

FFN

It was a normal day at the Zimue records store.

Which was to say, it was absolutely boring, but there were enough customers around that Nimue couldn’t practice magic… or even really do homework for her independent study courses, considering that her manager was here today.

The door opened and closed with a blast of warm late May air.

Nimue shivered and grabbed the counter as the flashback overtook her.

Nimue-the-first did not leave her lake often. She was busy enough with her forge, and she didn’t care much for most people, especially not in crowds. She frowned as she saw wagon tracks on the road; she was getting close to a village or at least a farm. She preferred for her adopted son and his family to visit her rather than the other way around. They may be royalty, but she was a sorceress and far older. They could show her some respect.

Instead, she’d be paying her last respects to her son and her daughter-in-law.

There was a war outside her lake, and there was dark magic fueling it beyond what the Gumm-Gumms could normally use. It had been a long time since she had last seen Uther’s stepdaughter or her green-eyed gaze, but Nimue-the-first knew that Morgana had corrupted herself and was fueling the war. That, or the war was fueling Morgana; Nimue-the-first could feel it in her bones.

Nimue’s bones ached as she was released from the flashback to her first lifetime. She glanced around, trying to figure out just what had caused the flashback this time. However, there was nothing new in Zimue, nothing that would’ve set her off, and definitely not anything that would’ve caused her to flash back that far. Nimue inhaled deeply, trying to see if maybe Douxie was cooking something up next door, potion or otherwise. That had set her off once. She had been tempted to tell him then and there the truth about why she had magical powers, but she had stopped herself. Wizards were normal. Relatively rare compared to most of humanity, but normal.

Reincarnation, as far as she knew, was not. Heck, every legend about King Arthur returning was propaganda, so it wasn’t like he’d reincarnate, much less anyone else from her first lifetime.

It was kind of lonely, walking around with so many memories of bygone eras, but it had been Nimue’s life since she was twelve. Besides, the magic was more than enough to make up for it.

Then again, Douxie would never practice dark magic, and even if he wanted to surely Archie would stop him. She squeezed her eyes as she manned the register. She felt worse with every customer, though it was possible that she just was getting a headache and mistaking it for dark magic. Dehydration, maybe, as ironic as it was.

A girl stepped to the front of the line, holding the new Papa Skull album. She had a white streak running through her dark hair, with multiple colored hairclips and a matching Papa Skull shirt. She looked a little sick, a little sleep deprived, a little younger than Nimue.

Nimue gulped as the girl placed the album on the counter. The girl smiled shyly before coughing into her elbow, loud and shaking.

Magic radiated off the girl as Nimue rung up the album. It was old, and it was dark.

Perhaps being the only one with magic and memories from bygone eras would have been for the best, as lonely as it was.

The girl walked out, taking most of the dark magic with her. There were some traces of it lying in the air like a miasma.

Nimue quickly swiped her hand over her pocket to make sure her phone was there. She’d ask her manager to let her take a break, text Douxie, and the two of them would go after the girl with the dark magic. Hopefully she was just some kid with latent talent who found a dark magical spell on the internet.

“I’m taking my lunch break,” her manager told her right before she could open her mouth. “Make sure we don’t get robbed.”

Nimue made sure her back was turned to her manager before she grimaced and hoped that she had enough hay fever that it was distorting the amount of dark magic she was sensing.

“Nimue, calm down and talk a little more slowly,” he said. They were both on break, her from her day job and him from band practice with Ash Dispersal pattern. Specifically, Hank and Raoul were off to grab burgers for their lunch.

Nimue took a deep breath. “Look, this girl came into Zimue and there was something bad about her. Like, I could feel the dark magic coming off her in waves.”

Douxie decided not to ask her just how she knew it was dark magic, though he did wonder. For someone who had had no training outside of spell books on the internet and his father’s attempted tutelage of the two of them, she progressed remarkably fast. Douxie hoped that Nimue wouldn’t be able to sense years-old dark magic. “Okay, do you want me to fake being sick and go after her?”

“Uh… she left the shop an hour ago.”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Douxie was secretly glad. Nimue’s reaction to dark magic users scared him.

“Because my manager already doesn’t like me and this was the soonest I could go on break… it could be hay fever, but I made sure to take my allergy meds and I don’t think it is.”

“Okay, okay, well, what does this girl look like?”

“Uh… brown or black hair with a white streak, green, wait, no, brown eyes…” That certainly didn’t narrow down the field that well, but it did help affirm the fact that there was something about the girl Nimue had seen that had her spooked. “Oh, yeah, she was wearing a Papa Skull shirt, and hairclips? Uh, like, two, no, three, no, there might’ve been more… it’d be easier if I could show you.”

“Nimue, we both know that the extent of your drawing abilities are runes and stick figures.”

“No, not a drawing, there’s surveillance video in the store, and she came straight up to the register.”

“Isn’t that illegal? Somehow? We don’t need the law coming in and messing things up somehow.”

“I mean, technically the improvements on your pipes might also be illegal since you didn’t tell your landlord about them and they’re also giving you extra water.”

Douxie grimaced; he still wasn’t entirely sure if one day he’d have to deal with the magically enhanced water turning what was supposed to be his dinner into a potion of some sort.

Zimue closed at 7 PM every day, so at 9:30 PM Nimue snuck out of her house to break in. Her parents thought that she was sleeping after having prepared for finals she’d be taking. She wore a beanie and long sleeves to cover up her dyed hair and magically induced tattoo.

“Douxie, I thought I told you to do something that would make you less recognizable,” she said. He was wearing what he wore every day, except he didn’t roll up his sleeves.

He dramatically placed his hood over his head, and then awkwardly tucked his dyed bangs behind his ears. “Why’d you want the water bottle?” he asked, pulling one out of his pocket.

“For this,” Nimue said, sighing wistfully. She preferred shopping for clothes in the women’s section, but she missed having space in her pockets. She took the water bottle, uncapped it, and then upended it. As she handed the water bottle back to him, she made a swirling motion with her other hand.

Another good reason for wearing long sleeves: her tattoo was probably glowing right now.

A thick fog surrounded the two of them and the storefront.

“Oh. Cool,” Douxie said.

“Wish it could’ve been a smoke bomb instead of a steam bomb, but this is good enough, I guess,” Nimue said. “Besides, we don’t want to set off a smoke alarm.”

Douxie knelt next to the door, pulling out a pair of straightened paperclips. He inserted them into the lock, wiggling them around. His expression grew frustrated, and he closed his eyes. When he stood up once more, he held the lock with one of his hoodie sleeves.

“I thought you could pick locks,” Nimue said. “Well, without magic, anyways.”

“Last time I picked a lock I was in foster care, and before that…” Douxie stared off into the distance, a morose look on his face.

“Before that?”

Douxie blinked and put on an obviously fake smile. “Eh, tragic backstory stuff.”

“That joke stopped being funny halfway through ninth grade.” Nimue pushed past her friend and opened the door. Fog filtered in, covering the cameras. “Okay, so we keep the security footage over this way.”

Douxie closed the door behind him. “You know, I don’t even know if the magic shop has security cameras.”

“Good thing mystery dark magical girl came here, then.” Nimue pulled up the footage. “And good thing my boss showed me how to go through this in case we ever get shoplifted from or anything. Not that we probably will, ever. At least, if we do it’s probably gonna be on my day off. And, there!”

Douxie looked over her shoulder at the slightly grainy video, taking a photo of the girl. “She goes to our school. I saw her outside Mrs. Barros’s office last year. I think she’s a year younger than us?”

Nimue groaned, standing up and beginning to erase the evidence that she and Douxie had broken in. “If she’s a year younger than us, then she might be a member of that stupid pilot program where freshmen could graduate in a year and a half.”

“I can ask the guys; they might know since they still go to actual school.”

“Make sure you get a name; it might make it easier to go after her.”

“Hey, Nimue?” Douxie asked. She threw a glance over her shoulder as she locked up the store.

“Yeah?”

“What are you going to do to her, once we find her?”

“I don’t know exactly, but she’s got dark magic. She’s dangerous, and we’re the only non-dark wizards in Arcadia. We need to stop her.”

Douxie gave her the same sort of faraway, morose look that he did whenever he accidentally shared a detail about his childhood before foster care. Without a word, he turned away and walked to his apartment.

Nimue let the enchanted fog roll away and began to walk home. She tried not to think about Douxie’s question too much. Anyone who used dark magic had to be evil since they’d know better than to use it. They deserved what was coming to them.

“Hey, does this girl still go to our school?” Douxie asked, holding his phone out to the other members of Ash Dispersal Pattern.

“What, do you wanna ask her, wait, no, sorry, forgot you were gay,” Raoul said. Honestly, Douxie was still a little surprised that he had even had to come out to Raoul and the other guys last October. After all, Douxie trying out for Ash Dispersal Pattern had been him trying to confess his crush to Hank back in freshman year. Not that it mattered, anymore, since all the other guys in the band were straight and Douxie had moved on from his crush six months after the band had formed. “Uh, I don’t know?”

“Nimue saw her at the record store, fiddling with a ring, and she dropped it. Nimue found it after she’d left, and she wanted to try to find a way to give it back to the girl. I remembered seeing her outside of Mrs. Barros’s office last year, but I’ve got no idea about if she’s in the year-and-a-half program.”

Hank walked over and squinted at the photo. “She doesn’t go to our school; she transferred to mole high. She’s friends with my ex; the girl’s name’s Claire. Do you want me to go over?”

“Dude, Mary isn’t gonna get back together with you,” Dominic said.

“No, well, I have no idea about Hank’s ex. But no, I’ll go over,” Douxie said.

“Hand out the Battle of the Bands flyers when you get there, will ya?” Douxie took the stack of papers from Dominic. Good, now he actually had a reason to go there.

Multiple female students of Arcadia Oaks High swarmed Douxie, but not as many of them grabbed the flyers he was passing out. None of them were Claire, either. One of them mentioned the nickname that Nimue hated. Personally, Douxie wasn’t sure why it was such a problem; Hank had gone through a phase where he’d called everyone by their first initial, but there were two guys with a name starting with the letter “d” in the band and Dominic was significantly shorter than Douxie. Therefore, “Big D” and “Little D”.

A girl pushed through the crowd and tripped, dropping her books. Douxie knelt next to her helping her grab her books, and then he felt the waves of dark magic coming off of her. Something about them felt familiar, but how? Douxie placed a smile on his face.

“C-Bomb, is it? Consider me blown away, because you are nuclear.” If she knew that he was a wizard, then she would understand that this was a sign of respect. A sign that he recognized her power, but also a sign that he recognized the danger she radiated.

She smiled back but said nothing. Hmm. Maybe Nimue’s theory of Claire being an inexperienced wizard who accidentally cast a dark magic spell was possible, but that powerful without knowing how to sense for magic? That was strange. Perhaps she was goading him?

A boy in blue walked up to them, slinging his arm around Claire’s shoulder. “So, what brings you to our humble school?”

The boy placed a hand on Douxie’s chest, pushing Douxie away as Claire began to cough. That was nice of him. Something about the boy felt oddly familiar, and not just because Douxie remembered seeing him at Benoit’s multiple times. No, Douxie almost felt caught in a feedback loop, like he had sent his own magic outwards and then it got sent back at him. Almost. The magic that got sent back felt purer, less tainted. Innocent, and not yet marred by necromancy.

“The Battle of the Bands is coming up,” Douxie said as he handed a flyer to Claire. “Ash Dispersal Pattern – that’s my band – will be crushing this.” And maybe the hand motion Douxie made was a little too threatening, but there was something odd and Douxie felt like he had to do something to show a little of his strength. Not too much, but enough to make himself seem like he wasn’t a victim. “But, we’re encouraging others to give it a shot.”

Claire coughed again after congratulating Douxie on Ash Dispersal Pattern’s headline performance for Papa Skull last fall. Douxie couldn’t help but wonder if it were a regular cold, or if perhaps the illness were magical in nature. If so, maybe he, Nimue, and his father could find –

No. Douxie would have to help her on his own. Nimue and his father thought that dark magic users were evil and dangerous. They would probably advocate for letting Claire die if the illness caused by her own meddling in dark magic, or perhaps the two of them would grant “mercy” to Claire by killing her. They would probably do the same for Douxie if they ever found out the truth.

Two girls rushed over to Claire, exclaiming that they should be a cover band. Neither of them seemed to have anything magical going on, but Douxie was pretty sure one of them was Hank’s ex.

“I don’t know,” the boy said, pushing Douxie away once more. “We’re pretty busy with our after-school activities.”

Hmm. Were Claire and the boy perhaps trying to learn magic together, much like Douxie and Nimue were?

Claire took the flyer back from the boy and agreed with the girls about starting a band. Douxie glanced to his hands and quickly put them in his pockets. They were empty, and they were trembling. But why? Claire seemed powerful, but not necessarily threatening.

“I look forward to seeing you again, Fair Lady Claire,” Douxie said before walking away. Yes. Perfect. That was exactly the right amount of respect to show to a fellow wizard whose diplomatic position towards you was still unknown but was clearly dangerous due to her clearly dark but hidden power. It was good to know that, after a millennium and a half for everyone else and eight years for himself, his diplomatic training as a prince had finally paid off. If only his parents, Merlin, or Uncle Kay could have been alive and in the right mind to see him.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. This whole morning was stupid. Nimue had been so stupid as to tempt fate. She glanced up from the tile she was trying to kill with her eyes when the door opened and closed, and her best friend walked into Zimue Records.

“Everything okay?” Douxie asked.

“We got fucking robbed,” Nimue said. “This wasn’t supposed to happen to me! If this was going to happen, why not on my day off?”

“Well, at least you have security cameras. Was anyone hurt?”

“No, though the shoplifters played dumb like they didn’t know what shoplifting was. Ugh. At least some cop got there so no permanent damage was caused and I didn’t even need security cameras. How’d flyers go?”

“Fine, I found Claire.”

“Okay, and?”

“And what?”

“And what have you done about her? Fireballs? Potions turned Molotov cocktails?”

“What? No! I’m not blowing up our rival school, and neither are you! No, I just got a feel for her, and I treated her with the proper amount of respect.”

“Proper?”

“Yes. Given that she’s powerful, I called her by the term Lady,” Douxie said as Nimue smacked her forehead. “What? There’s no need for her to immediately want to kill us for disrespect!”

“Douxie, this is why people think you’re straight.” She wrinkled her nose. “Please tell me you’re just being cheeky when you call me Lady Nimue and not trying to curry favor.”

“I’m being respectful to you because you’re my friend… but also sometimes it bugs you.”

Nimue rolled her eyes. “Okay, so what are we going to do about Claire? You have any ideas about how to fight a dark wizard?”

The door opened and closed, but no human walked in. “You two won’t be.”

“You told him?” Nimue said.

“No, but he should have,” Archie said. “You two are louder than you think.”

“I didn’t want you to worry,” Douxie mumbled.

Archie raised an eyebrow at Douxie. “Between raising you,” he said before turning to Nimue, “and teaching you my fur has gotten plenty grayer without the two of you taking needless risks like tracking down a dark wizard.”

“But she could be hurting people! And we’re the only ones in Arcadia who could save the day! If we pull off some sort of sneak attack – “

“You won’t be,” Archie said. “If the two of you are to be fighting another wizard, which you won’t be, I expect you to fight with honor.”

“She’s a dark wizard. She’s evil.”

“Or she’s young and hasn’t had the training that you have. She might not know the difference between regular magic and dark magic. After all, did you know the difference when your powers first awoke?”

Nimue’s breath caught in her throat. Of course, she did; she knew so many things instinctually from her past lives.

“Or Claire’s desperate,” Douxie mumbled, breaking Nimue from her thoughts. Archie turned to him.

“That’s not an excuse to use dark magic, and it’s especially not an excuse I want to hear coming from your mouth – either of your mouths,” Archie said. “If this girl turns out to be a danger to others, or to be using dark magic while being fully aware of the consequences, then fine. I will guide the two of you in planning an attack. But I do not want either of you getting near this dark wizard without me. Am I clear?”

“Yes, Archie,” the two of them said in unison.

“Good. Now, how is studying for finals going?”

[purplesurveys]

1183

survey by xflirtykaosx

Alphabetti Spaghetti (1/3)

And we will fall in love with shooting stars. - A

Have you ever seen an Aardvark? I don’t think so.

Were you ever abandoned in a public place as a child? Where? Abandoned is a pretty harsh word lol. My parents did like playing pranks on me and hide whenever I’d get distracted at the grocery or department store. They’d let me get nervous or even tear up for a bit until showing up again.

What accent do you have? I guess just your standard Filipino English accent that’s common among people who were able to take up English studies. I don’t really know how to describe it.

Is there someone in your family addicted to something? What is it? I don’t think so.

Have you ever been under general anaesthetic? What were you having done? I think so? When I had a tooth extraction done on me two years ago I was told I was going to be injected with anaesthesia, but I didn’t feel as if anything changed throughout the procedure. Either my dentist told me fake news lol or he’s just really good at his job for me to not notice anything.

How do you show the ones you love affection? It depends on the person. Around my friends, I know I’ve had taken a liking to them once I start getting especially talkative with them. For people I have even deeper relationships with, I like...buying them gifts, I guess. Getting them things that remind me of them. I would also bend over backwards to do nice deeds for them, like driving them to their destination even if I find it far.

Are you more passive or aggressive? I tend to be very passive aggressive in the way I deal with things.

Do you like the band Aha!? Not in particular.

Do you know anyone called Aidan? What are they like? Nope.

Ever heard of the band Ajax? No but I know that’s a brand of like cleaner or something. That’s close enough to ‘band’ haha.

Do you know anyone called Akash? I don’t either.

Do the sound of fire alarms scare you? They would obviously be scary if it rang for a real reason. Who wouldn’t freak out over a fire?

Do you live in America? If so, which state? If visited, where'd you go? No, and I’ve never visited either. I’d love to take a trip to cities like New York, New Orleans, Portland, and Chicago one of these days.

Have you ever had an ant infestation in your house? Only when there’s food left out accidentally.

Aora - did I spell that correctly? I don’t even know what you’re referring to, so I can’t tell you if you’ve spelled whatever it is right.

Do you have a preference in Apple? What type do you prefer? I don’t quite get this question - like a preference within Apple products? I mean, a phone and a laptop are essentials for me, and generally I do prefer having an iPhone and Macbook over other brands; but I can live without an iPad, an Apple Watch, iMac, Apple Pen, etc...if this is what you mean.

Are you an Aquarian? Is anyone in your family/your partner/best friend? ...You mean Aquarius? No. I don’t believe in astrology nor pay attention to zodiac signs either, so I wouldn’t be able to name Aquariuses that I know right off the bat.

Have you ever worn any type of armor? Which type? I don’t think I’ve ever had to, no.

Do you use the word ass a lot? Kinda, but it’s usually part of a longer word, i.e. asshole, asshat, deadass, etc.

Have you or your family had an attorney? What for? Not to my knowledge.

Is your car/family’s car an automatic gear or manual? Automatic.

Are you interested in aviation, piloting and aircrafts? Just the slightest bit. I would love to learn how to fly a plane, and I would be willing to pay for lessons. It’s just the type of activity that’s super hard to squeeze into an already-hectic schedule of mine.

What was the last award you recieved for? A academic distinction in college.

Axl Rose - like or dislike? Like, but I’m nowhere near a passionate fan. I just don’t have any reasons to actively dislike him.

Do you like air being spelt ayre or ayer in rap or hiphop or is it nasty? I don’t care.

Is the sky outside Azure? If not, what shade is it? No, it’s pitch black.

Belle amour (we've been here before). - B

Do you call anyone baby? Is it sweet or an overrated name for affection? Just my dogs. I find it sweet; it’s my preferred term of endearment if in a relationship.

Bby - does this shortened version bug you? No; my friends and I use this with each other.

Do you know what BC in terms of time stands for? Before Christ, but I prefer using BCE.

BDf - For or against? I don’t know what this is referring to.

Do you prefer beach breaks, city breaks or winter breaks? Why? Beach breaks. Winter break is an immediate cross-out since we don’t even have winter; and I already live and work in an urban area as it is. Beaches are my way to go if I want to escape life for a bit and completely unwind.

Do you spell out boyfriend properly or put bf in texts/online? I can use either depending on what I feel like typing out. It’s not that serious haha.

Do you know what bg is short for? Upon reading this question I immediately thought ‘background,’ but if this question had another meaning in mind I wouldn’t be aware of it.

Do you know anyone with the last name Bhays? No.

Have you ever been bird watching? What did you see? No, doesn’t sound like my kind of hobby.

Do you like Bjork? Not in particular, but just like the Axl Rose question I don’t have anything against her either.

What does this read: bk 2moz miss u lyk fk. Doesn't this text speak annoy? No one types like this anymore at least among people I know, but I imagine it would lowkey bother me a bit.

Do you like BMWs? They’re whatever. I don’t pay attention to cars much.

What is the nearest book to you called? How many times have you read it? There aren’t any books here up on the rooftop.

BnQ - gone there? What did you buy? Idk what that is.

Are you more brainy or brave? I wanna say brainy, if anything? I’m pretty jumpy lol.

Did you like the BSBs (Backstreet Boys) as a kid? How about now? No, I’m a little too young for that generation of artists and groups.

Burgers, Hot Dogs or Salads at a Barbecue? We don’t really practice ~barbecues~ here. But at Filipino parties I would usually flock to lumpia and fried chicken, hehe.

Do you have a Byro? No, because I also don’t know what that is.

Cold eyes and filthy lies all leave me petrified. - C

Do you have a Cactus (Cacti)? No, I don’t like plans.

Do you know what a CCTV is? Yes...?

How many CDs are in the room you are currently in? None where I am right now but I have all of Beyoncé’s albums save for Lemonade in my bedroom. I also have Paramore’s self-titled album and Hayley Williams’ Petals For Armor. My CD collection is about to experience a revival because of BTS, though. My plan to get all versions of all their albums is rock solid, lmao.

What's your favourite cereal brand? Cookie Crisps.

Do you like children's TV shows still? Which one(s)? I’ll revisit an episode or two of shows I watched as a kid at a given time for old times’ sake, but I don’t regularly watch children’s TV shows anymore. I haven’t for a very long time.

Cinnamon - Yum or Yuck? I’m actually kind of in the middle about it. I feel like too many desserts have been banking on cinnamon, so the taste of it can be a little tiring. It’s delicious if I haven’t had it for a while, though.

Do you know anyone with the initials and or name CJ? Quite the opposite; I know PLENTY of JCs, even my sister is one. I know one or two CJs but that’s it.

Have you ever met a self professed clairvoyant? What did they do/say? No.

Do you watch CNN News? What's your prefered news channel/show? I don’t tune into the channel but every once in a while I will encounter a CNN link on social media that I’d actually click on and read through. As for preferred news sources, I don’t have one as there are matters to criticize about 99% of them lol; but I am most likely to trust articles I from AP or Reuters. Just things you pick up as a journalism student. 

How many cousins do you have? I have 9 first cousins. I lose count by the time I try to go beyond that since I don’t even know all of my dad’s cousins, which makes it hard to track who my second cousins are.

Do you still draw with crayons? When was the last time you did? Drew what? I don’t remember anymore.

Do you know what a CSS feed is? What is it? I’m familiar with the term but never bothered to learn about what it is.

Do you like cycling/biking? What type of bike do you have? ...I don’t even know how to ride a bike.

Do you really like it, is it is it wicked. - D

What is the most dangerous animal you've petted/held? I can’t decide between snake or crocodile.

Do you like Death Metal? If so, which band(s)? I wouldn’t say I do.

Did you ever keep a diary/journal? I did a million attempts to keep a diary when I was younger, but I was never able to keep up with any of them and I ended up having 4598358395 notebooks with one or two entries each at most. Having a Tumblr page for surveys has so far been my most successful streak at keeping some type of journal.

Do you prefer small, medium, large or no dogs? I prefer all dogs.

Do you know what DP stands for in porn? Yes.

Have you ever dressed up as a celebrity for a party/Halloween? I went as my favorite female wrestler once. I wouldn’t strictly call her a celebrity, but she’s a very well-known personality in the wrestling industry so she’s popular in that right.

DS or Wii? Why? Wii. I was able to make more memories with it.

Does dust make you sneeze or cough? Sneeze, usually.

How many DVDs do you have all together? Idk, I don’t buy DVDs anymore.

Do you dye your hair regularly, sometimes or never? I’ve never done it.

Every love lies sometimes . . . - E

What's something you refuse to eat? Most fruits.

Don't you think the word ebb is so pretty? I’m neutral about it. I don’t use it a lot.

Do you like Chocolate Eclairs? I love eclairs in general haha. Chocolate eclairs in particular sound delicious.

Ever tried edible paper? Yeah, with the White Rabbit candy.

Eevee - pretty name or too Pokemon-y? Definitely very Pokemon-y. 

Do you sometimes mix up the spellings/meanings of affection and defection? Erm, no? They have completely different spellings and meanings, so I personally have never switched them up.

Do you have a big ego, low self esteem or somewhere in between? I think I’m somewhere in between. I’m insecure about some things about myself, but I don’t really put myself down 24/7. I feel like that would put such a strain on my mental health, which I certainly would never need.

What Element does your starsign fall under? I think earth? My co-workers were just discussing this last Friday, but I couldn’t really butt in since I can’t bring myself to care about astrology. I know they mentioned Taurus being an earth sign though.

Do you show your emotions easily and freely or hide them? Depends...I can do either depending on the situation.

What is your favourite form of entertainment? Korean reality shows are quickly becoming a favorite of mine at the moment. I also like compilation videos on YouTube.

What will they write on your epitaph? I’ve honestly hadn’t put much thought into this yet, and I don’t plan to anytime soon. It just seems like a super grave thing to think about lol.

Estimate/guess what number we are on now? Maybe 60s or 70s?

Do you know basic social etiquette? I mean etiquette will always differ per country or culture, so what is basic in other countries might not be here, and vice versa. I think it’s hard to measure.

Does your country use the Euro, Great British Pound, Dollar or other? Other.

Do you still get excited on Christmas Eve? Yes. Mostly for the free food and the opportunity to see relatives I really only ever see every December 24.

What animal/creature that is extinct do you wish wasn't? Those that went extinct from human activity.

What colour eyes do your parents have? Black/dark brown.

[maviemesregles]

Once I was an Eagle

Thanks to all who keeps following this story! For all your lovely comments and messages in DM. <3

I've had so much fun writing this chapter. Xmas music was on as early as November started and inspiration hit me to write a wee bit of festivity. Hope you enjoy it!

P.S. Of course for full experience turn on your Christmas playlist or just listen to Michael Buble album ;)

Thanks to my beta @eclecticstarlightconnoisseur​ as always :)

Read on AO3.

Chapter I: The beginnings

Chapter II: Sassenach

Chapter III: Catharsis

Chapter IV: Lovestruck. Part I

Chapter V: Lovestruck. Part II

Chapter VI: Flecks of Sun

                                 Chapter VII: Mince pies & baubles

December

I used to think that I have grown out of loving Christmas time. In fact, I turned Scrooge-like and annoyed everyone around me with remarks about how this time has turned into something cynical, commercial, plastic. It wasn’t about love or family or Christianity anymore. Damn me, my Catholicism would be as fake as the myriad of Christmas advertisements. But this year something has changed. Or rather someone has changed it. 

The snowflakes were dancing around the narrow streets of Edinburgh draping the roofs in white fluffy blankets. The naked trees outlining the alleys and parks and the dull grey sky were a reminder of the seasons changing. The chill in the air made people wrap their scarfs around their necks while their coats kept them toasty warm. Rosy-cheeked and smiling, the young, old and the smallest ones were peering into the shiny, glittery shop windows. My feet froze in front of one featuring a festive woodland scene. I noticed my own reflection in the shiny glass, seeing a smile touch my lips as I gazed upon the scene. The eyes of Beauchamp who was happy. I really was. Dizzyingly, drunkenly, unbelievably happy.

The whole month has passed since that horrifying evening that made me think of the possibility of losing Jamie. 

The whole month of visits to Broch Mordha, of Jenny teaching me to cook (and failing), of Brian showing me different surroundings and telling me fascinating stories of the family Fraser (or clan as he called it).

Of me laughing until I would cry at the jokes Jamie’s godfather Murtagh made.

Of getting drunk and singing on the streets with Jamie and his childhood friends Angus and Rupert.

Of that sweet, touching feeling that made me so sentimental when Jenny and Ian’s children would call me Auntie Claire.

Of Geillis and me spending quiet cozy evenings together in my kitchen with a bottle of red.

Of Jamie and me trying to find a secure corner in Lallybroch to make love without being interrupted by his family.

Of us making plans for the summer and where we might spend our first vacation together. (me suggesting Rome, Jamie saying Amsterdam would be more interesting)

Of arguing over that for the first time and then having makeup sex that made the hairs on my skin rise and hide my eyes away from the neighbours the next day.

Of catching a cold and then giving it to one another, spending two days at home, snuggled up on the couch in the company of disgusting snotty tissues.

Of twenty-three mornings, days and nights of Jamie making me coffee, greeting the sunrise together and making love in the darkness of the night.

Of five hundred hours saying I love you.

* * * 

“Claire? What takes ye so long? I’ll freeze all my manly bits down here waiting for ye.” Jamie’s voice sounded muffled, mixed up with the noise of the traffic outside. “Ye ken, ye could put on a Tesco bag as a dress and yer still be the most bonnie and sexy lass I’d ever seen.”

Snorting (not ladylike at all and reminding Adso to be a good boy), I put on the only pair of heels I’d own (sleek and shiny, black stiletto) finally making it outdoors.

December 20th was the day Geillis threw a Christmas party each year. Though this time I’d much prefer to stay at home with Jamie trying to recreate his mom’s Gingerbread cookies recipe. But, I could not say no to my best friend.

Jumping into the car I cursed feeling all the sharp embroidery of the dress I’d bought (a black bodycon, fully covered in beads, ending just slightly above my knees) dig into my skin.

“Jesus H.Roosevelt Christ!” I hissed as my hand immediately reached for the button of the heating control. “Of course you’d freeze everything in here, you bloody Scot.”

Expecting Jamie’s usual reaction - rolling his eyes, saying something in Gaelic I did not understand (on purpose), and then laughing at me, I turned my head.

“What?”

His mouth was slightly agape as his eyes travelled from my feet up to my body. Lingering for a second on my hips, he licked his lips. By the time his gaze reached my face, his eyes darkened becoming a stormy blue.

“What?” I repeated, shifting on the leather seat. 

“Fuck,” All of a sudden he sounded exactly the same when he whispered my name with last thrusts inside me. “Yer the most gorgeous woman I’d ever seen, Sassenach.”

My heart started beating out of control. The way he looked at me - I already was seeing the stars without even being touched.

“Fuck?” My brow quirked in a question as I leaned to him, taking a fistful of his white collar. “Are you suggesting something, my lad?”

He swallowed. Not able to resist I dragged my tongue over his Adam’s apple. His skin tasted bitter (the cologne he’d used) and a bit stinging (the remnants of the stubble).

“I’ll have ye until ye forget yer own name,”  Jamie’s finger drew intricate patterns up my leg, sliding over the black material of stockings. 

My breath hitched as his hand slipped under the hem of my dress.

I bit my lower lip thinking Geillis would kill me if we were late. And surely my redheaded friend will make all kinds of inappropriate guesses as to why we did not arrive not on time.

Jamie removed his hand just as if he read my mind.

“Though there are at least a million and one things I would love to do to ye right now,” he brought his hands back to the steering wheel. “I canna wait another hour for ye to dress. And ye’d definitely need to change afterward.”

Jamie gave me the most awful wink that made me laugh out loud.

“I’ll hold you to a million and one things, James Fraser.”

As the evening progressed, we drank (wine and whisky, clearly a regret in the morning), Jamie devoured at least a dozen of canapes complaining that there’s no real food (and Geillis assuming with a smirk that “Claire, do ye no feed yer Highlander?”). We danced. My cheek resting just above his heart, arms wrapped around his neck, Jamie’s hands on the small of my back.

I ached. I felt hot and needy. More and more with each hour of Jamie’s innocent (not at all) words and texts (though we barely left each other) of what he was going to do to me once we are home. 

An accidental (not) brush on Jamie’s leg with the tip of my shoe under the table.

A squeeze of his hand on my hip as we danced.

A chaste kiss in the company of Geillis watching us and the one that took my breath away when no one paid attention.

On our way back the car windows steamed up with alcoholic breath or perhaps it was from the mist of desire floating between us.

When my aching feet crossed the threshold, kicking off the shoes, Jamie’s hand closed the door pressing me against it. The skin on my face was hot, flushed. But Jamie's fingertips ran over my heated body leaving a pleasantly cool trail over my cheek and neck.

I was nothing but my body. The dim hall light blurred into one endless mirage. He was kissing me then. The tip of my nose. With a quite mumble “cute one”.

His lips hot with desire blazed a path of sweet kisses. My eyelids. Cheeks. Lips.

When my dress fluttered down my body to the floor with a soft rustling Jamie led me to the bedroom.

Our lovemaking was the bridge to one another that we had built and rebuilt every time our bodies joined. In the aftermath, we laid in the darkness of the room with the only sound of Adso’s purring interrupting the pleasant stillness.

Limbs still entwined, Jamie drew me even closer seeking to imprint our union forever into the skin. I curled up around him, my lips pressed to a soft curl on his neck.

Through the soothing warmth of sleep, I thought I heard Jamie mumble something about buying a Christmas tree and going to Broch Mordha.

For where all love is, the speaking is unnecessary. It is all. It is undying. And it is enough.

* * *

Mornings in winter were very dark and cold. But at the same time cosy and serene, despite the cold that drew a frozen lace upon my cheeks each time I ran down to my car in a hurry to warm it up. Nights last much longer bringing that peacefulness with them. It was my favourite time. I could curl up covered by a heavy duvet, wrapped up in Jamie’s embrace, listening to his heartbeat. The darkness of winter mornings was a chance for my lips to find that hollow space on Jamie’s neck in the dark, where he was tender and delicate. I would press a kiss there, his skin smelling musky with his own perfume and the memory of our lovemaking. 

Later, when the sun warmed up the room, my legs felt like Jello from morning sex and I dissolved limp and slick as I lay on top of Jamie. Despite my amorous morning activities, my mind was still partly sleepy. Jamie, on the other hand, was out of bed in seconds, urging me to hurry up. In the end, it wasn’t a dream about buying a tree. Jamie had the whole plan set up and I obediently followed him. Though I wasn’t sure why I’d need a Christmas tree when we were going to celebrate in Broch Mordha with his family.

Morning began with having fresh croissants in the bakery with herbal tea and polishing off with mulled wine from the market stall (Jamie saying it’s not a crime at this time of the year after my remark that we look like chronical alcoholics sipping Gluhwein in the middle of the day).

Jamie stoically handled my nagging about the pine needles that’ll be all over my beige carpet,  Adso’s misbehaving and surely kicking the tree down, and how awful we are chopping down the real one.

He rolled his eyes only several times as I kept choosing one tree over another. We’d spent about three hours at the tree farm, becoming cold to the point I couldn’t feel my toes anymore. We struggled for thirty minutes to load the green beauty to Jamie’s car and laughed so hard, the passerby surely thought us mental.

I had spilled the hot cocoa all over my jacket and dropped mushy marshmallows to the car seat. Jamie hoovered the insides of his car for another hour trying to get rid of the pine needles and the mess I’ve created. He cursed in Gaelic every other second as he tried to fit the three through the doorway. All of this adventure was so far away from the perfect but it felt so real, so ours, and so magical.

“I love you.” I whispered into his lips, being held up high in Jamie’s arms. I retrieved a box of vintage tree ornaments and lights from the highest shelf in my flat knowing that they would be just perfect on our tree.

When the pink and fluffy skies turned into the dark-blue, Jamie and I sat on the floor amongst packets of tinsel, tangled lights, and shiny baubles.

My life never resembled anything close to what one would see on a TV commercial. It had been some time since I truly felt happy at Christmas, now I felt as though that feeling of peak and joy come back.

As the second mug of tea was drunk, I sat with my back pressed to Jamie’s chest, his knees as two guards around my hips. The Spotify Christmas playlist and the warmth of Jamie next to me made me feel half sleepy as I lazily dug through the decorations.

“Where did ye get all of those?” He pointed to the box of baubles.

My fingers that fought stubborn mess of tangled lights, froze.

“It’s from my childhood.” My voice sounded distant. “I know it’s a pile of old crap, but I could never throw it away.”

Jamie’s lips softly touched the back of my neck.

“Tis no crap, Sassenach. Tis yer memories. And ye should always keep em here.” His hand came around my chest and laid over my frantically beating heart.

Suddenly my mind conjured up the picture that was still so vivid. It is 1991 and our Christmas tree is ridiculous. At least that’s what four years old me thinks and I don’t forget to inform my dad of my thoughts. My father stands on the ladder that dangerously wobbles as he tries to secure a star on top of the tree. There is Miracle on 34th street rolling on TV and my mum plugs in the Christmas lights. I happily squeal and grin at the sight of it. My parents kiss and I say it’s gross but just then dad chases me over the room to give me sloppy kisses on my cheeks. I explode with giggles and ask for the hundredth time when Santa is going to come. We eat the best roast dinner and watch Home Alone, the three of us curled up on the couch. I’m beyond thrilled I’m allowed to stay up late but fall asleep right after the movie finishes. In the morning I am a proud owner of a doll in a blue dress that Santa had brought me. 

And now I realize that Christmas tree from distant 1991 was just the perfect one. As perfect as the one I was looking at now, with Jamie’s arms wrapped around my waist. 

It was tall, brushing the ceiling, filled with all the ornaments I own, bathed in tinsels and ceramic snowflakes. 

“Shall we?” Jamie kissed the tip of my ear and plugged the lights in.

The tree shone and my heart together with it.

“It’s beautiful.” 

“Well, now I have to move my things in here.” Jamie spun me in his arms humming to Buble’s version “It’s beginning to look like Christmas”

My brows furrowed as I escaped his embrace to steal a piece of mince pie we’d bought two days earlier. (Jamie with an almost childlike squeal plodded down the aisle of Christmas stuff in Waitrose, saying we must get these).

“Why so?” I pinched his jaw with my forefinger and thumb.

“For one,” Jamie raised a finger to tap down my nose, followed by a slightest of lips brush. “I’m terribly worried for the health of yer wee cheetie. Those awful candles ye buy and burn, Sassenach. A Dhia, the poor cat will suffocate.”

I snorted.

“Nonsense. You love it.” 

A high-pitched squealing left my throat as I tried to escape Jamie’s hand that made an attempt to smack my arse. Adso that has been observing his parents from a nest made out of a duvet on the couch sniffed, yawned and walked away, showing with all his being how ridiculous we are. (And yes, Jamie declared that now he’s the full-time dad to my cat taking into account the amount of time he spends at my flat).

“And second of all,” my boyfriend with a grace better than Adso’s reached me in two steps. “We have bought a Christmas tree together. That’s a commitment. A serious one.”

Failing in my attempt to hide behind the aforementioned tree I let Jamie take me by the wrist, drawing me into his arms. He let his hands scatter down my sides, stopped for a second to knead my hips, finally squeezing my bottom with the most mischievous look I’ve ever seen him make.

“God, yer arse.” 

“A commitment?” I licked my lips feeling my heart beating frantically. “What you have in mind, Mr Fraser?”

Jamie started to sway us in a slow rocking dance motion, turning off the main light with his left hand. The room sank into a cozy glow of Christmas lights that flickered on the baubles and tinsel. The candles that lived on my coffee table (now Christmas edition - Spiced Gingerbread and Twisted Peppermint) gave a touch of a true home, drawing the shadowy patters on the wall. As the voice of Buble sang “I’ll be home for Christmas, you can plan on me…”

Jamie leaned forward to kiss me with a whisper.

“I think we should move in together, Claire.”

[infiniteshawn]

Since We’re Alone | 3

a/n: 3.5k words. the calm before the storm. and a whole lot of fluff.

Andrew had hoped to have Phoebe on a flight to Los Angeles within twenty-four hours. This was not the case.

Ideally, Phoebe would have had her Handmaid’s Tale-induced epiphany and replied to Shawn with a simple “I’m in.” Instead, she agreed to continue thinking about it, and if all went well, there was a chance for a possible meeting.

Which she never intended on following through with.

“Yes, I know he’s hot, mom, but it’s just n-“

Phoebe sighed and chewed her lip, interrupted once again by her mother on the other end of the line. She felt as if her own self was the only one with actual morals, as everyone in her life insisted that she bite the bullet and take part in a completely dishonest and misleading attention-cry.

Her boss pointed out that he’s famous.

Her mother pointed out that he’s attractive.

Sophie pointed out that it would make for a fantastic article.

And Shawn himself was on television talking about it. Oh, my god, Phoebe thought to herself.

“I’ll call you back,” she muttered to her mother, unmuting her practically-Jurassic Sony Wega to tune into the interview.

“I’m just really happy right now,” he flashed those damn pearly whites, causing the interviewer to erupt in a giddy blush-fest. Phoebe scoffed.

“With the success of the album and tour coming up, everything seems to be coming together.”

Phoebe cursed herself for leaving the TV on. She forgot Entertainment Tonight—an even worse version of what she did for a living--existed.

“That’s great, Shawn,” the young woman grinned, uncrossing her legs to cross them again, “and I understand that love is in the air for you, too?” she asked, and Phoebe wasn’t sure if it was supposed to be a question or a statement. The world seemed to be in this unsure state of limbo about Shawn Mendes’ relationship status, and she felt relieved that she wasn’t completely subjected to this so soon. No one really knew what was going on. Not even Phoebe.

Shawn tossed his head back with a chuckle, “Caught the Grammys, eh? Yeah, my girlfriend’s great.”

Fuck. There goes that, Phoebe thought. He so easily admitted it. A public confession in full confidence was her biggest nightmare. Even though she’d barely scratched the surface, she knew she was in deep.

_________________________

What the fuck she messaged, still refusing Shawn’s offer to just text him. Giving him her number would give him complete access to her any time, and she didn’t need his management on her tail. She hadn’t agreed to anything.

Phoebe hoped she hadn’t worried Shawn with her DM, reminding herself that it was his team forcing him into this mess. As far as she knew, Shawn was pretty innocent.

Sorry she added, and then, ET interview caught me off guard

Shawn was already typing.

@shawnmendes: Can we talk about it?

Phoebe huffed. If she was being honest, she didn’t want to talk about it. But he’d seen the message, and the seconds were ticking, and Phoebe’s stomach dipped when she saw he was typing again.

@shawnmendes: Andrew says you live in Toronto?

Phoebe groaned. She’d read the message, she did live in Toronto, and there was no way she could lie because he was definitely going to find out anyway.

I can call you she sent, willing to surrender her ten digits of freedom in order to avoid what was to come. But Shawn was hot on her heels.

@shawnmendes: No, can’t talk about it over the phone

Phoebe wondered if this was more serious than people were leading on. Maybe his phone was tapped, monitored by the people in charge of him. The thought made her mouth dry.

And then an address popped up. An address that was two blocks away.

@shawnmendes: Red or white?

_________________________

Phoebe chewed her lip in the mirrored elevator, questioning if she was underdressed. An oversized long-sleeve shirt and bottoms that couldn’t be described as anything other than airport pants hung off of her. She looked down at her socked feet inside of her Birkenstocks—definitely underdressed, she concluded.

“10” lit up the LED display and the doors opened, and rather than being greeted by a carpeted beige hallway, the last man she’d locked lips with stood before her. With a massive grin on his face.

“So good to see you!” he smiled, pulling her in for a hug.

Phoebe blinked, regaining feeling in her arms and bringing them up to wrap around his firm torso. Before she could get much of a grip, Shawn was releasing her and walking down the long hallway.

“Thanks for agreeing to come over,” he spoke, looking over his shoulder, “I just figured,” he paused, looking forward again, “we probably shouldn’t be seen until,” another pause. Shawn cursed himself for talking too much, especially before whatever this was had been established.

“Don’t worry,” Phoebe interjected, slowing her short legs as Shawn twisted the doorknob, “I don’t want to be seen either.”

Shawn pushed the door open and motioned for Phoebe to go inside, where she stepped out of the way and waited for him to tell her what to do or where to go. Shawn took note of her manners.

Phoebe was hesitant to look around, feeling as if it wasn’t her space. Afraid to get too close but too curious to hold back, she obliged when Shawn poured her a glass of sauvignon blanc and began showing her around.

“I signed the lease when I was nineteen,” he spoke, pausing to sip his drink. She’d seen the kitchen, admiring the dark cabinets and chocolate marble countertops. It looked nothing like the late-80’s vibe her appliances radiated.

“And since then I’ve just kept renewing it,” he added, stopping where the tile transitioned to hardwood and the kitchen became the living room, “I always thought I’d buy it out, but, I don’t know,” he chewed his lip, twinkling the rightmost keys of the upright piano as he passed, “it’s just never been home. I’m twenty-three. Who knows where I’ll be in five years.”

“Surprised you’re still here at all,” Phoebe spoke, taken aback as Shawn looked down at her with a surprised expression.

“Are you crazy?” he giggled, “I love my job, but you wouldn’t catch me dead living in LA.”

Phoebe nodded. All signs were pointing her to the realization that Shawn didn’t want this either, and the whole thing was being orchestrated by the people managing him. He didn’t want to leave Toronto. Fuck, he hadn’t even looked like he wanted to be at the Grammys.

“And then through there’s just a spare bedroom—the other one’s back there,” he said, pointing back to the kitchen, “and then my room. Bathroom attached, just so you know.”

Phoebe nodded, swirling her wine around in its glass. Shawn had a beautiful home, but she was having a hard time understanding why she was in it. Her hair fell from behind her ear.

“I’m sorry, can we,” Shawn spoke nervously, almost in broken English. He was bouncing around on the balls of his feet, but not in an excited way, “Can we talk about this? Here,” he motioned back toward the living room, adjusting one of the cushions of his stark-white couch for Phoebe to have a seat.

“I know this must be so weird for you,” he started, finding her gaze. She took the opportunity to give him a one-over, too nervous to so obviously check him out before. He was in black jeans and a Henley. She once again felt underdressed. At least he’d forgotten socks.

“We’re already in this mess, though,” he continued, and her gaze fell to his lips, and then his chin, where she noticed that he had a bit of scruff that she’d never seen before, “it’s just, they’re really pushing me to do this,” he spoke lowly, as if he was worried someone would hear him. Phoebe half-expected him to look over his shoulder, “that was a really close call, at the Grammys, and if we just swept it under the rug, they feel like there would be a lot of loose ends.”

Phoebe nodded, still not having added to the conversation.

“Plus, you’ll get some time off work. This is probably good experience for your job. You might see the world or whatever. Who knows? It could be fun,” he grinned, and she smiled back. But it wasn’t convincing.

“Look,” Shawn spoke, voice low again, “my best friend got married last year. He’s got a kid on the way. I just feel like everyone’s, you know, living, and I’m at this standstill where I’m doing the same thing I was doing when I was seventeen,” Phoebe frowned. He avoided eye contact, “it would just be nice having someone around that’s,” he paused, “normal. Not so-LA-it-hurts.”

It broke her heart.

Phoebe sighed, and Shawn looked at her once again. His eyes looked sunken in. Dark circles accented the paleness of the rest of his face, “Okay, I’m in.”

Shawn’s lips parted as he wasn’t sure he’d heard her correctly, “You’re in?”

“For now, yes,” she nodded, stretching her legs out in front of her and wiggling her socked toes, “on the terms that the contract is nice to me.”

Shawn grinned, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. The tone was still heavy.

“Play me something,” Phoebe blurted, and Shawn’s eyes widened in response.

“What?”

“Come on, Rockstar,” she grinned, figuring the glass of wine was reaching her brain, “I’m supposed to be dating you, but I’ve never heard you play?”

Shawn grinned and shifted in his seat uncomfortably.

Phoebe relaxed her shoulders and leaned a couple inches in his direction, “Please?”

Shawn sighed, but it wasn’t a disappointed one, “Alright.”

He placed his glass on the coffee table and stood from the sofa, retrieving an acoustic guitar from its stand in the corner of the living room, “Do you,” he paused in disbelief that she was making him do this, “have a preference?”

“I was actually a big fan of yours back in second year.”

“Really?” Shawn laughed with his eyebrows raised and a sly grin gracing his lips.

“Yeah,” she nodded, “SM-three days.”

“What’s your favourite?” Shawn asked with the excitement of a puppy.

Phoebe took a deep breath. She couldn’t believe she was admitting this, “Mutual, but it’s kind of upbeat, you can play something els-“ she spoke, but Shawn was smiling and already plucking the strings, and she knew she didn’t need to keep going because of how quickly he interrupted.

“I can do Mutual.”

_________________________

The next morning, Phoebe danced in her kitchen to the sounds of sizzling bacon and “Mutual” by Shawn Mendes.

For the very first time, she was excited about this.

“So you’re really gonna do it?” asked Sophie on their morning commute, navigating through the herds of Toronto-banker-sheep. People moved even more frantically in the winter months.

“No,” Phoebe answered, “I’m going to LA to scope it out. Then,” she emphasized, looking up a few inches to meet Sophie’s denying gaze, “I’ll decide.”

“That you’re gonna do it,” Sophie concluded flatly, sticking her hand out and motioning to an Uber that was driving far too fast.

“If I’m gonna do it,” Phoebe corrected.

They began crossing the street, Phoebe struggling to keep up with the swift movements of Sophie’s long legs.

“You won’t have any issues convincing Margaret,” Sophie sighed as they made a right, forcing Phoebe behind her for a few strides.

Phoebe wondered if what she was sensing was jealousy. She figured she’d worry about that later.

“As much as I wish it were me,” Sophie spoke, and then stopped abruptly upon reaching their building, “I think you should do it.”

Sophie smiled as she swung the door open for Phoebe, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

_________________________

It was a small plane. Andrew had been nice and placed her in business class—probably some sort of a bribe, Phoebe figured—but she wasn’t complaining. There was plenty of room for her not-very-long legs, and the drinks were complementary.

She sat on the aisle, although it didn’t make much difference because there was only one aisle and two seats on each side. The spot beside her remained vacated, and she was hoping to sneakily scoot over once the seatbelt lights went out and the plane was in the air.

Ten minutes to takeoff. Phoebe put her tattered copy of American Gods in her fraying Longchamp and closed her eyes, pressing “play” on a podcast she was sure she wasn’t going to pay attention to.

David Dobrik’s laugh was loud in her headphones when she felt a tap on her shoulder, causing her to quickly tug her earbuds out and clutch her bag a little tighter.

Of course.

The tree of limbs that was Shawn Mendes was stowing his backpack--with his sweatpants-clad thighs in front of her face.

“Make some room,” he spoke with a smile as Phoebe tucked her legs in, allowing him to crawl across her. She hadn’t been expecting this.

Her cheeks were red hot as Shawn made the most noise possible getting settled in, stopping abruptly to ask, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she breathed, “just didn’t know we were travelling together. I guess you’ve gotta get to LA too,” she gave a tired, tight-lipped smile.

Shawn looked a little discouraged.

“Sorry,” he paused, breathing in, “I guess I should’ve asked you if this was okay, I wasn’t think-“

“We could’ve carpooled,” Phoebe grinned, and Shawn looked as if she’d taken the weight of a train off his shoulders. Shawn smiled with a slight tilt of his head.

“So,” Phoebe spoke, “what are we watchin’?”

“What?”

“Five and a half hours, Mendes,” she replied, “that’s a whole lot of Pheebs.”

They both giggled and began looking for a movie, determined to press “play” at the same time.

_________________________

Phoebe looked around. The lights were out and they were halfway through some alien film that neither of them cared for but were both too polite to object. Her screen had been paused for a while, allowing her to observe the white interior of the aircraft as her mind ran wild.

Shawn’s movie was a few minutes ahead, but he seemed to have caught on because his headphones were out and his right cheek was pressed against the headrest.

“What’s up,” he spoke, and it wasn’t really a question. The awkwardness of not knowing each other unfortunately called on small talk to fill silences.

Phoebe tugged the plastic from her ears, though nothing had been playing. She released a little laugh and spoke, “What am I doing?”

Shawn sighed and straightened his back a little, but kept his head tilted in her direction as he responded, “I don’t want to say anything because I don’t want to push you.”

Phoebe shook her head, “I did it to myself when I kissed you.”

Shawn turned a darker shade of pink and hoped she wouldn’t notice.

“Phoebe,” Shawn spoke, and she woke up a little. That was the first time she’d heard her name escape his lips. She liked it. “Come on, let’s start small. Tell me about yourself.”

“You want the whole life story?”

“No, I want to discover that stuff on my own. How about,” he paused, searching her dark blue eyes, “what’s your biggest weakness?”

Phoebe squinted a bit in his direction as she wondered if he was taking note of her weak spots for future reference.

But his curious chocolate eyes and boyish grin suggested otherwise.

“I think my greatest weakness is myself,” Phoebe started, “I expect too much because I expect everyone to think like me. I go above and beyond and they don’t, and I wind up disappointed. Every time.

“But it always results in my being used because I’d rather be taken advantage of than abandoned, I guess,” she admitted, and it was merely a whisper.

It didn’t stay so grim for long, though, because Shawn said something and then Phoebe said something, and they were both laughing louder than intended.

It took the gentleman behind them popping his head up and asking, “Do you mind?” to shut them up.

They laughed.

_________________________

Shawn must have drifted off at some point, because Phoebe noticed he was lightly snoring with his head resting between the seat and the wall of the plane.

“Attention passengers,” the pilot came on the PA, “we will be landing in ten minutes. Thank you for flying with Air Canada.”

She smoothed her ponytail, sitting up with determination. Phoebe knew what she wanted. She just had to be stealth.

She leaned toward Shawn’s limp frame, right arm outstretched, trying her best not to disturb him but desperate to see LA illuminated in the pitch black.

Shawn snapped awake, catching Phoebe off guard.

She stumbled, redirecting her hand to his thigh to catch herself, landing with her face just inches from his own. Shawn gulped.

Her gaze fell to his lips.

“Hey there,” they spoke.

“Sorry,” she apologized, pushing off his leg to get herself back into her seat, “I just really wanted to see out the window.”

“Oh!” Shawn quietly exclaimed, seemingly putting the pieces together. Effortlessly, he reached over and slid up the window cover.

It was gorgeous. Clusters of lights winked hello to Phoebe Rose for as far as she could see. If she squinted hard enough, she could just make out where they ended and the Pacific began.

“Don’t fly often?” Shawn asked, eyes on her as she admired her view.

“Rarely,” Phoebe spoke, and Shawn leaned back so she could get a better look. She instinctively responded, leaning forward.

But Shawn could feel her breath on his neck and her hand on his knee and he wasn’t sure if all of this was a blessing or a curse.

He wanted to find out.

The seatbelt light came on. The wheels came out. The plane touched down.

Phoebe grabbed Shawn’s hand.

A few minutes later, Shawn crawled across their seats to retrieve his bag. Phoebe regretted bringing a luggage big enough to check because she didn’t want to be an inconvenience, but then she quickly remembered that without her, Shawn would likely be in deep shit right about now.

Coming back to reality, she watched as he reached above his head, causing his hoodie to ride up and bring his cotton t-shirt with it. He’d developed more fuzz below his belly button since she’d last seen him shirtless—in 2019, on a larger-than-life billboard in Yonge-Dundas Square.

She wanted to touch it.

Then, she wondered what was wrong with her.

And before she knew it, Shawn was pulling her out of her seat and off of the plane toward baggage claim.

“Flight AC753” flashed on the screen above the metal conveyor belt, and Phoebe switched out of Airplane Mode as bags began emerging.

She watched the cell phone provider texts roll in before switching off roaming, and Shawn had located her bag and pulled it from the contraption before she could even tell him which one it was.

The platform for car pickup services looked busy, but before they could fully round the corner, Shawn came to a halt.

“You might want these,” he spoke, retrieving his black Ray Bans from his carry-on. Phoebe looked at him, confused, but listened as he talked, “out the doors is our Uber. I think it’s just a black Malibu. Ask if it’s for “Shawn” and he’ll let you in. I’ll be there in ten.”

Phoebe mentally questioned his methods but did what he said, and once she saw the crowd of fifty-some teenage girls with their iPhones out, she understood.

She had no idea what she had gotten herself into.

______________________________

taglist: @enchantingbrowneyedgirl @its-the-unknownspidey @everytigerisakity @harold-hugs @ccidk @particularshawnn @ssweet-empowerment @tamegray @loveat2 @heyits-claire @martinimendes @shxwnmxndess@sunriseshawn @jollybonkpatroldonkey @jesuscheistkaren@casuallycoolcloud @sinplisticshawn@deafeningdeanhoagieturtle @rosieblondie @hannahlouiseee @change-perspective13 @abeautiful-and-cloudy-day @calthesensation @livsalzy @illumelilac

[valhallamercury]

the starry eyed | boh rhap!brian may x f!reader

Request(s): Well can you write something where the reader is the lead singer for a popular disco band and somehow Brian ends up going to the readers show and falls in love

The reader is in the band (she plays the piano) and she is doing an interview with MTV and ends up stealing a lot of hearts with her cuteness!

Summary: After seeing Y/N’s interview and her band, The Starry Eyed, on MTV, the boys decide to check out one of their shows (even though it’s bloody disco, according to Roger). They never anticipated their rocker guitarist to fall for the lead disco singer.

A/N: I’ve decided to combine these two requests, considering they’re very similar. I haven’t written a lot for Brian, so I hope that this is a pretty good reflection of his personality! The year is set around 1981 and the reader is around 28-29. Please tell me if you’d like a part two (or possibly a series?)

Warnings: Swearing, Brian being hashtag whipped for the reader.

Word count: 2,423

Tagged: @80s90steen @thefeetlesfan

Brian hated the cold. He hated when his cheeks were flushed due to the wind, he hated when his bouncy curls whipped around his face so he could hardly see, he hated when his fingers felt numb and he could hardly bend them. But, as he walked through the icy winds with his best mates on a journey to his apartment, he couldn’t help but love the cold as John dumped snow under Roger’s coat, on to his back. He laughed as Roger squealed, shaking violently to get rid of the cold substance trailing down his spine.

Brian turned to Freddie, seeing the man give a toothy grin back at him. “Now that, darling, is a sight.” He pointed to Roger, shaking the last remains of the snow from his coat while glaring at John. John on the other hand, smiled innocently at Roger, as if he had done nothing wrong.

Brian might have hated the blistering cold, but these moments with his friends made them worth it. Queen was skyrocketing to success, and between tours and making albums, it was hard to fit in free time with the four members without it leading to coming up with new song ideas or planning melodies and such. But, on lucky moments, Freddie, Brian, John and Roger were able to come together and relax as friends, not for work purposes or parties.

As Brian entered his apartment, his friends toppled in behind him. They kicked off their shoes, setting them against the wall as Brian had instructed them many times after too many trips from the hazardous objects. Brian headed to his kitchen to make tea, instructing Freddie to “turn on the Telly!”

“MTV sound good, Bri?” Freddie called to the tall man, even though he wasn’t really going to listen if he wanted it or not.

“That’s fine!” He called, pouring the boiling liquid into four cups. He grabbed each cup and set it on a small tray before walking out to his living room, where the three other boys were already cuddled up together on the old brown leather couch. He chuckled softly at his friends, setting down the tray before taking his rightful spot next to John.

“It’s just a bloody disco singer.” Roger grumbled, leaning back against the arm of the couch. Brian turned to the tv, only to see a beautiful woman be blessed upon his eyes.

Her hair was tied up into an immaculate hairdo, her eyes being decorated with bright blue eyeshadow and she wore a white low cut, bell sleeved shirt, a pleated baby blue skirt, and white platform shoes. She was obviously quite nervous, but she composed herself in such a way, that only someone very good at reading body language could have noticed. He was enchanted by this woman, but he couldn’t tell why.

“Today, we have Miss Y/N L/N of The Starry Eyed! Tell me, how are you feeling today?” The interviewer spoke, smiling kindly at the seemingly calm girl.

“I’m great! Wonderful, actually.” She giggled. Brian noticed how she gripped her skirt between her fingers and fiddled with the fabric.

God, even her voice was perfect, he thought to himself as the interviewer started speaking again.

“So your band’s newest single, Every Day, has reached number five on the charts. How do you feel?” The older woman asked, leaning forward in his seat. Brian couldn’t help but mimic her actions.

“It’s like a dream, honestly. The rest of the band and I, we’ve been dreaming about this moment since the day we all learned how to play cohesively,” Y/N paused to laugh for a moment. “I never thought I would be here at this very moment.” She admitted, now fiddling with the silver chain that was wrapped around her neck.

“So in the song, you’re doing majority of the vocals and the piano work, correct?” The interviewer paused, waiting for Y/N to nod, before continuing on. “Was there any inspiration behind the song? Specifically any artists or composers, perhaps?”

“Well, we, as a band, do take musical inspiration from several different sources. Reggie, our guitarist, he prefers Zeppelin and Toto. Karina, our bassist, loves ABBA and Fleetwood Mac. Julio, the drummer, he loves The Temptations and The Beatles. Audrey, our backup vocalist, she enjoys Tina Turner, Marvin Gaye, and Aretha Franklin. Me, I’m more of a Queen girl myself. We take each of those inspirations and try to mesh it into some beautiful, beautiful disco music.” She smiled into the camera, giving a small wave. It took everything in Brian not to wave back.

“I’m more of a Queen girl myself,” rang through Brian’s head like the most beautiful guitar solo he had ever heard. He couldn’t believe his ears. Y/N L/N listened to Queen. He needed to meet this girl, at whatever cost.

“So, are the rumors about an international tour true? Are the Starry Eyed finally going across contents?” The older woman persecuted the answer from the younger girl, leaning her elbows against her knees and leaning forward, an intent look in her eyes.

“Yes, it is true. We’ll be touring from the UK, Ireland, Paris, Italy, Japan, Korea, South America, North America and Canada.” Y/N listed and Brian’s eyes lit up with hope. Maybe he could meet this dream girl after all.

“Quite a busy schedule for you all.” The two women shared a laugh, before the older of the two turned back to the camera. “Well this has been, Miss Y/N L/N of The Starry Eyed, and up next, their new music video for Every Day!”

“You ‘ear that boys, we’re famous to even disco artists!” Deaky grinned at the others, but Brian’s eyes were still glued to the tv. He watched Y/N give a firm handshake to the interviewer, then wave to the crowd and walk off stage.

“Well it seems we must have to go to their concert now. Brian’s developed quite a large crush on Miss Y/N.” Freddie teased, snapping Brian out of his gaze.

“What!” Brian cried, like it was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard. “I do-I do not have a crush on the singer.” He stammered, his eyes growing large and his cheeks growing pink, only this time not from the cold.

“Why so defensive then, Bri?” Roger grinned; teasing Brian was his favorite pastime. “Could it possibly may have a crush on the disco woman?”

Brian shot Roger a death glare, earning him a cheeky grin in return. Freddie simply clapped his hands together, an eager smile upon his face.

“That settles it! We’re going!”

As much as Brian wanted to argue, he knew in his heart that he wanted to go. He wanted to meet her. This girl that was so far out of his league that she seemed to reach the stars. He just had to meet her.

About a month or two later, Brian sat in one of the box seats of the venue for one of The Starry Eyed’s UK concerts. Fred, of course, had gotten great seats with exclusive VIP passes. Brian was definitely going to repay him for that.

His heart pounded wildly in his chest, almost to the exact same rhythm of the drums. There you stood, clad head to toe in a silky red dress; it was low cut, with long angel sleeves and two slits on each side that exposed your legs. He then noticed that each member had their own designated color, or what he assumed was their designated color.

The lead guitarist, Reggie, wore his long hair in dreads that were decorated in green beads. He had a lime green blazer and matching striped socks. Audrey, who Brian soon recognized to be Reggie’s sister, wore a bright yellow dress that sparkled nicely against her dark complexion. The drummer, Julio, was clad in all blue: from his jeans, to his slightly opened shirt, to the blue streaks that had been painted across his tan arms and face. Karina, who played bass, was dressed in a purple pantsuit while her silky black hair was pushed back with lilac clips. The show truly was a sight. But Brian’s eyes were focused on the lady in red.

You were enchanting to watch, it was almost like he had been put under your spell. The way you moved on stage, it was something he had never seen before. You were elegant and mysterious, the way you swayed your hips made his face go hot and the way you traced your fingers gracefully against the mic ran a shiver down his spine.

As the show came to an end, he felt a small tap on his shoulder. He turned, seeing a large man standing behind him.

“VIP guests are to head backstage now.” His gruff voice told the four men. Brian nodded, hearing his heartbeat in his ears. He left his seat, trying to avoid the teasing glances from his friends. He walked out from the box seats, trailing behind the large man.

“You excited, darling?” Freddie asked, a familiar grin gracing his lips. Brian smiled kindly at his friend, clapping his hand against his shoulder.

“I owe you, Fred.” He whispered to the flamboyant man. Freddie nodded, giving him a fond look.

“Don’t waste this moment then, Bri.” He grinned teasingly. Brian chuckled, looking down at his feet before back at the security guard in front of them.

He led them to a back door where he heard the voices of multiple people. He took a deep breath, feeling a soft pat on the back, from who he assumed was Freddie.

The man knocked three times, the door being opened by Karina, monolid eyes glaring at the five men before softening. A grin broke out across her face, looking at the security guard. “Y/N’s gonna flip.” Brian heard her mumble as she let them through.

“Y/N! You have guests!” Karina called, a small smirk tugging at her lips. Y/N walked out, she had already changed from her red dress to more comfortable clothes. Her eyes grew wide and her hand reached to cover her mouth which formed the perfect ‘o’ shape.

“Holy shit.” She whispered, making the four men in front of her chuckle. “Oh, oh, my god.”

“Any words for us darling, or are you going to keep stuttering?” Freddie teased, a toothy grin appearing on his lips.

Y/N lowered her hands, fiddling with the hem of her shirt. “Oh, my god. Sorry, I’m acting like, like a damn fool. You’re all just, so cool, legends really. Wow, I sound like such a groupie, I’m so sorry.” She apologized, a bashful look dashing across her features. Brian couldn’t help but smile fondly, he might’ve developed a crush on the charismatic girl on television, but he was falling head over heels for the awkward girl standing in front of him.

“What Y/N means to say, is that she’s a big fan, and you’re very inspiring to her and us as a band.” A man, who Brian recalled to be Reggie, stepped out from behind Y/N and wrapped an around her shoulders. Y/N rolled her eyes, playfully pushing him off.

“Thank you, ever so much Reginald.” She deadpanned, turning back to the group with a sheepish smile.

“Well, if you’d really like to show us your appreciation, maybe you could show us a good place around here to get drinks?” Roger stuck his hands in the pockets of his jeans, a boyish grin plastered on his face. Brian knew that Rog had already snuck in a few drinks into his system, hiding them from the watchful guards who explicitly warned them of “no food or drink in the theater.” But, Brian wouldn’t mention it if it meant he may or may not have a chance to talk to you.

“There’s a bar not too far from here, actually. Didn’t look too busy. Plus I heard they had something called a ‘Dancing Queen Daiquiri’, and quite frankly it sounds like a hit.” Audrey mentioned as she rose from her chair, smoothing down her yellow skirt.

Y/N nodded quickly, glancing between her band mates back to her idols. “We were going to head there after the show anyways. You’re all very welcome to join us. It’d be my treat.” She mentioned quickly, taking her bottom lip between her teeth.

“Can never go wrong with free drinks.” Roger declared. Deaky nodded feverishly. He was tired of trying to sneak past the beers from the guards, too.

“Sounds fabulous, darling! What do you think Brian?” Freddie turned to the tall man. Brian glanced between Freddie and Y/N, feeling his cheeks heat up. He didn’t realize that he had just been staring at Y/N the entire time they were here instead of actually speaking.

“Yeah, yeah. Drinks sound great.” Brian’s voice cracked, but he played it off as a simple cough.

“Great! I’ll get my coat and we can head out!” Y/N declared, a brilliant smile dazzling Brian’s eyes.

As they walked down the street, Brian tried to think of something to say. But, everytime he tried to make the words come out, his voice got caught in his throat. He walked in silent agony next to Y/N, until him clearing his throat caught her attention.

“Hm? Did you say something?” She asked, looking up at him with expecting eyes.

“Oh, well, I, I really liked your song. The guitar riff, it’s nice.” He began, tripping over his words like how he often tripped over his own two feet. A bashful smile crossed her face though, her eyes gleamed with awe.

“That’s, that’s so crazy. I mean! I mean, thank you.” She stumbled through her words as well, making him feel comforted by her own awkwardness.

“You don’t have to act like I’m some big superstar or something.” Brian chuckled, pushing his curly locks back with his hand. “I’m just Brian May.”

“I’m so sorry, I must be making you feel so bad by not treating you guys like actual humans. I’m so sorry, I get too excited.” She apologized repeatedly, making Brian smile kindly. He placed a hand on her shoulder, giving it a light squeeze.

“Y/N, Y/N, you’re okay.” He spoke softly, trying to keep his tone calm and comforting. And it worked. She glanced down at her shoes and back up at him, the apologies collapsing in her throat and only a toothy smile appearing through her lips.

“At least let me pay for your drinks. It’s the least I could do.”

“You got yourself a deal.”

[succubusphan]

Black Velvet

Summary: Phil is a successful photographer who just landed a photo shoot with his muse: Rupaul’s Drag Race winner, Obsidian Rose. Will he be able to win a place in her heart as well?

Rating: PG-13

Tags/Warnings: Drag queen Dan, Au, Photographer Phil, No Angst, Getting Together, Strangers to Lovers, Absolute fluff, Happy Ending.            

Word count: 4456

A/n: This fic was written for the @phandomreversebang 2019. Thank you to @snekydingdong , who created the gorgeous art piece and provided the prompt and @amazingmitchell, who was an amazingly supportive and patient beta. Thank you so much for working with me and putting up with my decaying health and messy schedule.

This is the playlist I made for this fic: Black Velvet.

[Art Link]

Read on ao3

Phil’s alarm went off at 7 AM. He bolted out of bed and started scrambling around for towels. 

He made sure to wash himself thoroughly and put on his best outfit for his big day; he needed to look as close to perfection as possible. He hopped on a taxi and headed to his studio.

He was equally excited and nervous about today’s photo shoot. It was a dream come true to be finally meeting his muse, Miss Obsidian Rose. To be completely honest, she was a big influence on his work as a photographer. Once out of University he had tried different styles and areas to focus on for his business and finally settled for weddings, but once he saw her in Rupaul’s Drag race, he knew that he would be much more excited to do fashion photography.

It had been three years since he started building his new portfolio and getting increasingly bigger makeup campaigns, magazines and high fashion shoots. His big day had finally arrived when Rose fired her previous photographer for making snotty remarks about her choice of outfit and concept for her makeup line and decided to hire him instead.

By this point in his career, he was used to celebrities, their crazy demands and larger than life personas, but there was a tiny little detail that made him nervous about this particular job: He had a crush on his client. He would have even dared to call it love if it wasn’t impossible to be in love with someone you have never met or spoken to. He smiled as he remembered the only conversation they had had.

Phil’s hands started sweating the moment he was told Obsidian Rose wanted to speak to him. 

“Hello, Phil?”

“Yes, this is Phil. H-hello!”

He heard her laugh softly. “Phil, darling, I’ve been going through your portfolio and I was wondering if you would be willing to work with me on my makeup campaign.”

“Of course, Miss Rose.”

“Please, call me Rose or Daniel, as you prefer.”

“Sure, Rose.” Phil was still a bit confused, “I- I just thought you had already stopped searching. I heard you hired Walter.”

“Yes…. let’s just say we didn’t have the same vision for the shoot. And, you see, Phil, this is my baby; my product. I’ve been working on this line for three years. I can’t have someone trying to take over my vision. I need someone who will work with me and make all of my dreams come true. Are you willing to be that person?”

“Of course! I’m more than willing to hear your vision and help you take it to the next level. What did you have in mind?”

“Do you know the song ‘Black Velvet’ by Alannah Myles?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Well, I have paid for the rights to use that song in all the commercials for the line which will also carry that name. I will be wearing a black velvet outfit and the makeup will be the centre of attention. I want everything on my face to be extra glossy, with lots of glitter around my eyes and a smokey look. This first shoot will be centred on the lipsticks but all the makeup I wear is part of the line, this is my way to tease the other products as well.”

“That actually sounds amazing. I would use a matte backdrop, possibly black and soft focus around your face. If you would like to add extra flecks of shine I can do that in post-production.”

“Mmmm, you really get me, Phil. I think we would work very well together.”

“That’s fantastic, I think so too! I must admit I’m a huge fan of yours.”

“Are you?” she laughed. “Just one more question, I’m on your website and there’s a black haired man in one of the albums. Plaid shirt, hair in a quiff, blue eyes, sometimes with glasses. Who is that?”

“Oh, that’s me. I just like to try new lightings and settings and it’s easier to just take pictures of myself to get that out of my mind,” Phil knew it was a stupid idea to add that to his website, but he figured that if he buried them in some album, most people wouldn’t dig deep enough to find them.

“Well, I really admire your work. I’m looking forward to working with you. My assistant will be in touch with you soon to discuss the contract.”

“Of course, Rose. Looking forward to working with you too.” Phil had tried not to sound eager but he had failed miserably. 

The taxi finally came to a stop. Phil paid and rushed inside to set everything up before Rose and her team could get there in about two hours. He turned the heating on, as he assumed Rose would be wearing a dress and even though the lights warmed the studio quite a bit, the weather was actually freezing. Backdrop and lighting came next. He had a variety of chairs and sofas that could work for the shoot, so he set them to the side, waiting for Rose to choose. 

Not half an hour had passed when the bell rang, insistently. Phil was still adjusting one of the lights and almost knocked it over out of sheer panic. 

He rushed to the door and pulled it open to find a young woman who was presumably Rose’s assistant and Rose herself but not in drag; it was Daniel. It felt a bit wrong to call her Rose when she was not in drag, but she had said it didn’t matter. Daniel had his curls styled atop his head, displaying his shaved sides. He liked to only wear chin length extensions and be able to go between Daniel and Rose easily. He was wearing a black and white leather jacket, ripped jeans and a fluffy black scarf. Phil felt like this was a punch to his stomach, Daniel was incredibly beautiful without makeup and even more so in person; just when Phil thought his crush couldn’t get any worse.

The pair smiled widely at him. 

“Hi, sorry to be this early! Can we please come in? It’s freezing out here,” said Daniel.

Phil blinked and realized he had been staring for a few seconds. He moved to let them in. “Of course, sorry. I just wasn’t expecting you yet. Please come in, I’ll get you some hot coffee.”

Once inside, Phil led them to a huge makeup station he had set for his clients to prepare and told them where everything was so they could make use of the space as they pleased. 

“Oh, this is gorgeous,” Daniel said running his fingers through the white desk. “This mirror will help me see every single one of my pores when I do my makeup, I love the lighting in here.”

“Here’s your coffee,” Phil said handing him a cup. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Thank you, Darling,” Daniel smiled. “Sorry again for dropping in so early. I need to see the lights before I can properly do my makeup, especially the contour.”

“Oh, that makes sense. Don’t worry about it, it’s a pleasure to have you here.”

Daniel smiled widely. “Jane!” 

The girl who had previously been pretending to look out the window instead of listening in to her boss and smiling into her Starbucks cup rushed to them. “Yes?”

“I’m absolutely famished, please go to Starbucks and get me a chocolate muffin and one of those apple crumbles I love so much,” Daniel looked at her pointedly and smiled.

Jane smiled widely. “Sure, of course! Do you want anything, Phil?”

“Oh, no. Thank you, I’m ok.”

Jane nodded cheerily left to get the order.

Phil made himself a cup of coffee as well to distract himself from the nerves prickling his skin. “May I ask you something?”

Daniel stopped setting his makeup on the counter and turned to him. “Sure, what’s on your mind?

“I was wondering, What pronouns do you prefer when you are not in drag, or when you are for that matter? I wouldn’t want to disrespect you.”

“Oh, you find that confusing as well?” Daniel smiled. “It’s no disrespect, don’t worry. I actually don’t have a preference. Gender and labels are not things that worry me, but if it’s easier for you, you can call me he/they when I’m Daniel and she/they when I’m Rose.” He sat down to start working on his makeup. 

Phil leaned back against the counter and let out a sigh. “Oof, ok. I’m glad then, Daniel.”

Daniel turned to him again and placed his hand on Phil’s. “You are such a gentleman, Phil. Any woman would be lucky to have you.”

Phil laughed, “Man, definitely man.” He blushed and realized that perhaps Daniel was flirting and that definition may not fit him entirely, so he did a quick save. “Or, I don’t know, person. What I mean is that I’m not straight.”

Daniel gasped with mock shock, “That makes two of us,” he smiled and winked before starting to do his makeup. 

Phil made himself busy around the studio and at 11 o’clock his alarm went off. It was finally time for the shoot. If everything had gone according to plan, Rose would have been arriving now.

In a way, Rose had just gotten there. She came out of the dressing room in short black velvet dress that hugged her body in all the right places with matching long gloves, her hair styled into chin length curls that accentuated her glitter-covered cheekbones and her deep smokey eyes. Phil was mesmerized, she looked like an absolute angel… until his eyes travelled down her body and he was met with those thighs. He had to take a deep breath and remember to be professional. He was not going to be having that kind of thought about a client, least of all, Rose.

He forced his eyes to travel back up to her face and found her smiling wider than she had smiled all day. She was, in fact, posing for him. She gave a little twirl for him and walked to the set with such elegance it seemed she had been born in heels. 

Rose was made to be photographed. Phil was honestly surprised that she hadn’t signed a modelling contract yet. The photo shoot was everything Phil had ever dreamed of. They worked in sync, moving together as if they were dancing. Phil might have gotten a bit carried away in the last few frames and taken close-ups of her face that were not entirely usable for the campaign but the results were amazing. 

Rose couldn’t be happier about the raw material; she even kissed him on the cheek and whispered a “Thank you,” before going to the dressing room to change. 

She stopped short before going in and looking over her shoulder, she asked Phil to help her with the zipper of her dress which he readily did, running his fingers down her back. 

Jane came through the door with Rose’s breakfast, now turned dinner. “Sorry to interrupt, I can leave. The security guy let me in.”

Rose laughed, “No need, sweety. We are done here.” She turned to Phil. “Aren’t we Phil?”

Phil cleared his throat, blushing furiously. “Of course. I’ll just put my equipment away and do some editing so you can have an idea of how the finished product will look.”

—-

Once changed into the outfit he had arrived in, Daniel removed his makeup and applied about six different moisturizers, not that Phil was checking. ‘No wonder his skin is so amazing.’

There wasn’t really that much editing required. Applying filters and subtle changes, maybe colour grading, but there was barely anything to retouch on Rose. Phil was able to get something interesting enough to show Daniel fairly quickly. 

“Daniel, I have some photos edited for you. I would like your opinion If you have a moment.” 

Daniel walked to the computer and gasped. “Oh my god! Phil Lester, you are a genius! Not to toot my own horn but I look amazing.”

Phil blushed. “Thank you. Honestly, I didn’t have to do that much, you look… pretty perfect without any retouch.”

“It’s the makeup, honey, ” Daniel laughed.

“But you are not wearing any makeup now, are you?”

Daniel looked into his eyes, “No…”

“Then it’s not the makeup.”

That was the first, but not last time Phil saw Daniel blush.

——

A week later, Phil had most of the material edited. He could have worked faster, but he had taken over three thousand pictures, and a good ninety per cent were billboard material. The fact that he kept getting lost in thought while looking at Rose in his computer screen did not help to speed up the process either. 

His phone rang, startling him to the point of making him knock his favourite mug off the desk and getting hot coffee all over his crotch.

He picked up nonetheless. “Hello!”

“Phil, is this a bad moment? I can call later.” Daniel sounded positively small on the other side of the line.

“Daniel, oh my god. I’m sorry, I didn’t check who it was. I just - I’m so stupid.”

“I’m sure you are not stupid.”

“But I am, I just knocked hot coffee all over my pants.”

“Ouch. Is everything okay… Down there?”

Phil wanted to laugh but also to get offended, he opted for the former. “I can’t believe you just asked that! Yes, if you must know. Everything is okay.”

“Great because I wanted to invite you out for coffee… if you are willing, of course.” 

“Oh, I’m not done with the photos yet,” he said distractedly as he pressed some tissues to his pants trying to absorb some of the moisture.

Daniel laughed. “Yes, I imagined that. I didn’t mean in a business setting, Phil.”

Phil couldn’t actually believe it. “Are you - Are you really asking me out?”

“If you were interested, yes.” He paused. “Unless I read you entirely wrong, in which case, I’m joking, haha.”

“Yes!” Phil stood so quickly that he knocked his chair back.

“Yes?”

“Yes, I would like to go out with you on a date or anything you want.”

Daniel’s tone dropped considerably. “Anything?”

Phil was left opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water. “You! You are terrible!”

“So I’ve heard,” Daniel said sounding amused.

“Ok,” said Phil, bracing himself. “I can handle it. How about Friday?”

“Friday it is.”

—–

When Phil got there Dan had already taken over a booth for them.

Phil took a moment to look at him before approaching him. His skin was positively glowing under the sunlight coming through the window. If it hadn’t been absolutely inappropriate, he would have taken a quick picture to capture his beauty.

He finally made his way to the booth and slid in. 

Daniel looked at him with a gentle smile. “Hi, how are you doing?”

“Great, I was looking forward to seeing you again,” Phil said as he removed his jacket. 

Daniel’s eyes gave him a once over. “Would you like me to order for you?”

“A caramel Macchiato with a chocolate muffin, please.”

Daniel laughed carelessly. “Oh. Thank god, Phil! I thought we were going to do that thing where we pretend we are aliens who don’t eat to impress each other.”

Phil gave him an amused look. “I mean, I think you are adorable but I love my desserts. I don’t think we would work out well If you tried to keep me from my sweets.”

Daniel placed his hand on Phil’s briefly. “I wouldn’t dream of it!” he said before finally going to the counter. 

They enjoyed their coffees with a variety of pastries Daniel got them much to Phil’s content. The conversation flowed effortlessly, jumping around from their tastes in video games, tv shows, anime, art, food and drinks. Things were not as easy when they somehow ended on the topic of failed relationships. 

Daniel sighed. “The thing is that I love being Obsidian Rose, she is a powerful woman who can get anything she wants, but at the end of the day, I am also just Daniel. I don’t think I’ve found the person who can love Daniel as much as Rose, if that makes sense.”

“No, it does. It totally does,” Phil extended his hand to Daniel in an open invitation. Daniel placed his own on it and linked their fingers. “I understand that being a public personality may get in the way of people getting to know the real you and not some idolized version they had of you.”

Daniel frowned and looked out the window. “Yeah, I have honestly stayed single for the past year because I got tired of it all. It is tiring to get your heart broken over and over again, you know.” He finally looked at Phil again, searching.

Phil knew at that moment that he would need to work hard to earn Daniel’s heart and he was willing to do that. “I am as interested in Daniel as I am in Rose.”

“Are you sure? You’d have to put up with my grumpy mood, see me in messy hair and pyjamas, eating pizza on the couch during the weekend instead of going to parties. I am not a glamorous person.”

Phil smiled. “That sounds exactly like the kind of person I would date. I can’t wait to join you on the couch and not go to parties. For now, I think we should take it slow, get to know each other and finish the campaign before we decide to see where this goes. Deal?”

Daniel smiled back, “Deal.”

——

Two weeks later, one coffee date and two movie nights at Phil’s later, the second photo shoot finally arrived. 

Daniel was finishing his hair as fast as he could when the doorbell rang. He set the hairdryer on the vanity, hitting his toes against the legs and almost knocking his makeup the ground. “FUCK! Fuckfuckshit, motherfuckingggg-”

The doorbell rang again. 

Daniel interrupted his tantrum and limped to his front door, checking who it was before opening it.

Phil smiled widely with a huge bouquet of red roses in his hands. “Hi!… what happened?”

“Hi.” Daniel pouted, “I stub my toes on my vanity and almost broke a lot of my makeup.”

“Awww. Poor baby,” Phil said before kissing him on the cheek and stepping in.

Daniel couldn’t help but smile. “Are those for me?”

“Yes, I hope you like them. I just saw them and thought of you.”

Daniel nudged him gently, taking the roses. “Sap. Thank you, I love them.” He put them in a vase with fresh water and set them on his desk. 

“Do you need me to help you with anything or are you ready to go?”

“Not quite ready. Mmmm, you could pick one of the outfits I have out for today, I can’t decide,” Daniel said, pointing to his closet.

There were three dresses hanging on the door. Phil took each of the hangers and examined them carefully. The long black velvet dress followed the theme but it was too similar to the first outfit and the short black vinyl dress would be tricky to photograph and would take eyes out of makeup. He smiled as soon as he saw the last dress, a black lace dress that would accentuate Rose’s waist and had an intricate yet delicate skull pattern. 

“This one!” Phil said displaying the dress.

“That was what I had in mind! I just started overthinking it and then doubt drove me a bit crazy,” Daniel turned and shoved all of his makeup in a case along with his hair dryer, he knew he would hate himself for it later, but they needed to go. “Ok, let’s go, I’ll finish my hair in the studio while you set up.”

“Are you sure? I can wait.”

“No, it’s fine,” Daniel said, before leaning closer “Thank you,” he said before kissing Phil’s lips softly. 

Daniel looked into Phil’s eyes unsure if he had overstepped their boundaries, but Phil smiled and went bright red before hugging him. He placed his hand on Daniel’s cheek and gave him a soft kiss, sighing. 

The doorbell rang again. Jane didn’t make any comments about Phil being in Daniel’s flat but did send her boss a few amused looks which he absolutely ignored. 

The photo shoot went incredible; even better than the first one. Rose decided to change her makeup quite a few times. For the eyeshadow palette, she kept the black lipstick that was the staple of the collection and a crescent moon of silver and gold glitter wrapping around her eye with a variety of looks to display the different pigments. Rose decided to use the pictures of this shoot for the main billboards and magazines and reserve the previous ones for buses and smaller advertisements.

They worked late into the night, stopping a few times to rest and eat. 

Phil pretended not to notice the amused looks he was getting from Jane, but when they finished with the shoot and Rose went into the dressing room, there was no escaping her.

Jane was only 5”2’ but when she stood right in front of Phil with an intense look and put her hands on his shoulders making him sit, he didn’t dare to say no. “Phil, you look like a nice guy-”

“I am!” Phil interrupted her. 

“Shush! You look like a nice guy, but if you hurt Daniel I will chop off your legs and throw you into the river! He has suffered enough because of star-struck twats!”

“No, I promise. I really do care about him!”

“Really? Or are you just using him for sex!?”

Phil was absolutely outraged, “We- We haven’t! I - I wouldn’t do that!”

“You haven’t?” Jane gasped.

Phil blushed realizing he had revealed too much. 

“Why?” Jane asked in a much softer voice. 

Phil raised one eyebrow. “Not that it’s any of your business, but we decided to take things slow.” 

To Phil’s surprise, Jane smiled. “That’s nice. Just remember what I said. Legs, river.”

“What is that now, Jane? Are you tormenting poor Phil?” Daniel said, making Jane jump and Phil stand up. 

“We were just talking, Dani,” Jane smiled sweetly.

Daniel sighed. “I’ve told you not to call me Dani, we are not 16 anymore.”

“I wouldn’t know, you age backwards,” Jane said.

“Flattery doesn’t become you, Darling,” Daniel smiled and turned to Phil. “Do you have dinner plans?” 

“No, would you like to order some pizza and watch a movie?”

“Yes. I’ll leave my stuff at my flat and meet you there,” Daniel said and leaned in to kiss Phil but stopped short when Jane squealed. “Why are you still here? Stop meddling and go. See you on Sunday for lunch.”

“Rude!” Jane stuck her tongue to Daniel. “I’ll tell Karen that you are mean to me.”

“I’ll stop giving you the makeup I get sent.”

“Fine, see you on Sunday,” She said, kissing Daniel on the cheek and leaving.

Daniel sighed. “Now, where were we?” he put his arms on Phil’s shoulders. “Oh, yeah.” He smiled and kissed Phil softly.

——

That night they had a full Pixar marathon, they laughed, they cried and kissed, cuddling on the sofa under a fluffy blanket. Finally, at 2 am, they could barely stay awake, Phil didn’t want Daniel to leave but he knew it was still all too new to take things further. Then, he had a brilliant idea; he had a guest bedroom, so there was no need for Daniel to leave, he could just stay the night.

“Do you want to stay the night?”

“Oh? Yeah, yeah,” Daniel smiled.

“In the guest bedroom, of course, I’m not trying to …”

“Oh. Yeah, sure,” Daniel said looking a bit unhappy about the arrangement, but Phil knew it was for the best. 

He got Daniel extra toiletries, blankets, an extra pair of pyjamas, tucked him in and kissed him before leaving.

Daniel tossed and turned unable to sleep for about an hour until he finally gave up and knocked on Phil’s bedroom door.

“Come in,” Phil croaked.

Daniel opened the door and smiled at the sight of Phil in glasses, hair dishevelled, with a book in his hands. “I can’t sleep.”

“Me neither,” admitted Phil. 

“Can I sleep here with you? Just sleep, I - I feel lonely.”

Phil set the book and his glasses on his nightstand and opened the covers. Daniel took a short run and jumped in, making Phil laugh.

Once they had found a comfortable position to cuddle, Daniel finally yawned. “Good night.”

“Good night, Daniel.”

Phil turned off the light and kissed Daniel’s forehead before drifting off to sleep.

——

Once they had left their fears behind and had a very serious conversation about the future, schedules, trips, work commitments and what they were looking for in a relationship, they made it official. 

The launch of the Black Velvet makeup collection came 8 months later. Phil walked the red carpet with Rose when he was asked to, but he was absolutely happy to sneak into events and just spend time with his boyfriend without being in the spotlight.

It was not always easy to have quality time, but they took every opportunity to be together they had. Phil had planned to surprise Daniel for his birthday by visiting him in Mallorca, where he was working for a month, but he had to scrap that idea. Daniel called him crying, because he missed him and Phil had no heart to keep the secret from him, so he texted him the picture of his plane ticket. 

Realizing that spending time apart was more painful than was worth it, they started to plan their schedules together. Everything became a joint effort, they started to develop concepts for new makeup launches together, Daniel handled Phil’s Instagram account and Phil, of course, took Daniel’s Pictures. They still had their solo projects and careers but they mostly travelled together and took work in the same places when possible.

Daniel cancelled an interview in Germany to join Phil at a family wedding. Phil rescheduled an important business meeting to meet Daniel’s grandma when she was in town. And together they discarded all of those unsatisfactory jobs that they would have taken before just because they had nothing to do with their time than bury themselves in work.

They had finally found their other half; someone to love and be loved in return. They were business partners, friends, lovers, soulmates; and a year later, in a luxurious yet discreet hotel, among their family and friends, they finally became husbands.

[exposestruth]

@knightcowl said : five times kissed

one.

     he drived her insane. day after day, she wished he had never step foot in the kent’s farm. he was arrogant, thought he was smarter than everyone around him and stole lois’ brewed coffee every morning. if she had the strength to throw him outside a window, she would. she dreamt about it, more than once actually. usually lois was the pain in everyone’s ass. having one of her own — she didn’t know HOW  to handle it. and it killed her inside, not knowing what to do, not pinpointing which feelings to a v o i d. despite the usual quarrel and banter, they coudn’t stay away from each other for more than a couple of hours. almost felt like there was some cosmical energy pulling them together, one that lois would easily continue to ignore. what she couldn’t ignore was his annoying singing voice, that stupid song that he learnt had played at the strip club. how he had found said information was out of her reach but she prefered not knowing. every fiber of her body wanted to strangle him, throw that old radio out of the door and hopefully hit clark in the head as he was doing his chores. she takes a deep breath, s l o w l y, with eyes closed.  ❛ just shut up. ❜  it’s a whisper masked as a plea. she has had enough but he doesn’t seem to care. and right when she thinks it’s finally over, she hears a “ make me “ between the lyrics that continue to play on the background, sound being turned higher.   that’s it!   she walks up to him, determined to slap his pretty face and leave her mark on him. but by the time she gets close to him, he wears a smug on his lips, the one that drives her crazy. and her whole plan CHANGES in that second.    go big or go home, lois.    small hands hold his face, a glimpse of confusion in his eyes as she smashes her lips against his. it’s quick, no chance for anything else but definitely intense enough to leave a taste for later. she lets him go just as fast, relief clearly shining through her green eyes. he’s speechless. and the song ends, white noise filling the air.     ❛ finally, silence. ❜   and she walks away, not sure of what she has done but with a hint of delight in her mouth.

two.

     it was another night, like so many others before. smallville wasn't exactly known for nightclubs or bars. there were a couple of cafes and that was it. they used to spend their friday nights at the talon. lois had suggested weekly karaoke nights, a different theme every week. and drinking games. after that, the talon had become the teenagers and young adults' hangout spot for the weekends. clark had tried to stop her, they weren't legal and someone would find their booze stash for the games. but no one could stop her once she put her mind into something. lois had arranged with mrs k to do the night shifts and close the talon and since the weekend nights were doing so well, martha kent never suspected a thing.

      clark had left already to take chloe home, who unlike her cousin, couldn't hold her liquor. she thanked bruce to stay with her and help with the cash. she might have had a few too many tequila shots tonight and counting money was a little harder when she was almost seeing double. it wasn’t undoable as she tried to prove him by messing with the already counted money on the counter. she can see him rolling his eyes, clearly he was more sober than she was.

     as they get home, bruce has to stop her from blasting the whitesnake album in the kitchen, reminding her there are people sleeping upstairs. she lets out a whoopsy as she walks upon the counter and pours herself a mug of cold coffee. as she turns around, her head starting to play tricks on her balance, she bumps into bruce and what was supposed to heal her hungover in the next morning is now tainting his black shirt. she swears she isn’t usually this clumsy and obviously, he disagrees. as she cleans the wet floor, they keep on arguing and once she gets up to have a final say, she gets a glimpse of his back, with NO SHIRT ON. the lack of response compells him to turn around, probably thinking she has passed out on the floor ( it wouldn’t be her first ). they stare at each other for a few seconds, but it feels like hours. that hesitation ignites the fire inside of her, desire burning her skin as she scans his bare chest. and before her mind can call her back to reason, they’re kissing. it’s not soft or passionate but sloppy and hungry. she pulls him closer, a CRAVING to not let him go, matched by his hands on her waist that run down to her thighs. he sits her on the balcony behind them and the sudden movement takes her by surprise, mouth agape between kisses. his lips slide down to her jaw, peppering kisses down her neck and a moan slips from her mouth as her hands slightly pull his hair and she locks him between her legs. he’s already coming up, she can B A R E L Y  think straight but those seconds away gave her brain a break. she stops him by putting her fingers on his lips, preventing him from seducing her back to the adrenaline that she clearly wants. they live together, with the kents, who have been nothing but a family to both of them. they can’t do this. she can’t do this. NOT WITH HIM.    ❛ no, no. we CAN’T. ❜    she jumps down the counter, pushing him away from her. she needs the space. she needs the air to fill her lungs again, the blood to get to her brain so she can think. rationally.    ❛ oh god, i can’t believe, we just — we almost — fuck! FORGET this ever happened! ❜   still stunned by the endorphins, she runs away up the stairs, ready to forget this unfortunate night ever happened!

three.

     chloe’s wedding had been a disaster in more ways than she could count. besides the obvious beast almost ripping jimmy’s organs out and chloe gone missing — maybe worse — there was something else that kept her awake at night. or someone else. her feelings for clark were impossible to deny any longer and her insecurities crawled back up the moment their a l m o s t  kiss was interrupted by no other than the perfect girl next door. lois was an expert at avoiding bad outcomes and jumping out of them before she could get hurt. so when a story that would require out of city investigation is pitched to her, she accepts before she can even hear the name of the next city she’ll land in.     gotham.

       she arrived unannounced, so typical of her to crash into people’s houses. but she is welcomed with open arms by alfred.  “ pleased to finally meet you, miss lane. “   she’s not surprised by being recognized the second the door is opened, as if she had known him her entire life. a smile greets him, a silent thank you for not letting me starve all those times when i moved out of the kents. it’s not noticeable if he heard her thoughts but his smirk seems to confirm it. she remembers the rare moments bruce talked about him, how weird she thought he was from his stories. guess she was right after all. and yet, she puts a foot in front of the other, walking into the big old manor with a far away sound of flames crackling.

        what was supposed to be a week in gotham city turned into a month. excuses were made, new stories had to be told about the city of the bat. in face of a new heartbreak, the intrepid reporter buried herself in work — and in a new hero. batman was nothing like the blur. just as mysterious but with a hint of danger that was so familiar to lois. as much intrigued as she was of the dark knight, there was ANOTHER that caught her interest. bruce wayne had changed and made a man of himself. she remembers how young they were when they met, the chaotic mornings shared in the kent’s bathroom trying to get ready, the endless nights investigating together some new meteor freak, bruce proof reading her articles and lois handing him classified information she never knew why he needed it for. after a couple of years without seeing each other, it felt like NOTHING had changed. they were still the same — bantering endlessly, making each other laugh, relying on alfred to eat anything during the day. he hadn’t asked her the real reason why she had moved there, why she had leave metropolis and clark behind. the first time she caught him with cuts and bruises all over his naked torso, she didn’t insist on knowing HOW he got them. there was an unspoken understanding between the two. which made it difficult when it was time to LEAVE. she wasn’t allowed to be away from the planet any longer, it was time to get back. he joked about giving her a better position in gotham gazette and while she laughs, she knows he’s somewhat serious. she bites down her lip, holding her breath in an attempt to ERASE said thought from her mind.    she can’t stay.    she won’t be able to leave if she stays one more day. they grew closer than expected. lois ran away from metropolis to ignore her feelings, only to do it again one month later.    she was a mess. she didn’t know where to go, what to say, what to do. it was NOT easy to leave lois lane speechless but bruce wayne could, in more ways than she’d like to admit. and as his eyes await for an answer, her palm cup one side of his face and she comes closer. soft eyes lock his, taking in the moment she’d later regret.     ❛ i don’t belong here. i have to go. ❜   trying to hold the tears behind her eyes, a fond smile paints her mouth. she knows she can’t come back until her heart is healed and that might take longer than any of them are ready to wait for.   she leans in, lips are pressed against his cheek as a tear drops and leaves its salty mark on both of them. after grabbing her luggage, she walks away, shaky fingers wipe the tears from her face and she doesn’t look back.

four.

     over the years, the visits had become a CONSTANT. either she paid him a quick visit in gotham or he prolonged his business stay in metropolis. it took them a while to get through the last intimate encounter, not keeping in touch after lane left gotham. she focused on her work, writing more articles than anyone else in the bullpen, leaving a trail of exposés wherever she went and having her name known in the journalism community. wayne enterprises expanded even further from gotham, acquiring a handful of different businesses, one of them being the daily planet. lois couldn’t care less. technically he was her boss but he was never present, only making his appearance in big events and galas. in which they were always caught together, sharing a drink, making small talk with other business men in the industry, dancing even — but nothing compromising. because there was nothing there, despite the rumours circling the daily planet’s basement.

      however, there were moments that fueled the rumours. the tangible intimacy, their chemistry, the way eyes longed for each other and the laughs shared upon an inside joke no one else knew about. the way his hand caressed her arm when asking to have a moment alone with her or her genuine smile whenever she heard his voice behind her. there were suspicions about a relationship between bruce wayne and lois lane but no one could say it for sure because there was no evidence. even behind closed doors, there was  n o t h i n g  in concrete to tell. as lois liked to excuse it to anyone who confronted her about them, they were friends. ONLY FRIENDS. but only friends didn’t spend all of his time in metropolis closed in her small apartment, tasting different red wines and new restaurants’ takeaway. only friends didn’t shared and helped each other with their secret work projects. only friends wouldn’t fly to a distant city in their long weekend, more than once. only friends wouldn’t patch the other’s wounds without asking questions, even if she was d y i n g to do it. and so, after years of doing this dance, lois lane finds herself once again in the wayne manor, in bruce’s dark bedroom. she doesn’t turn on the light, he’ll know she’s there the second he returns from another crime fight night. instead, she paces across the wooden floor, not sure of what to do, again. it feels like a DEJA VU from so many years ago, when she left him to find herself. she has found the STRENGTH that resides within her, the passion she carries for the truth and the talent she has with a pen. yet, there’s something missing. she’s terrified to admit it but it’s been too long. they can’t keep doing this. it’s a make it or break it situation. and when he arrives, B E F O R E he can say a word upon seeing her shadow, she jumps on him. she doesn’t give him time to think, her mouth already clashing against his. her hands meet behind his neck, fingers entwined in his hair as parted lips beg for more.  she wants more.  she wants to feel the warmth of his skin, the electricity that runs through her veins taking over, she wants to feel him——— but she stops. her face steers away, but still close enough for him to feel her gasping for air, her heart racing loud in her chest. one of her hands lower to his chest, feeling his own heartbeat while the other rest in his shoulder.  ❛ i’m sorry, bruce. i just had to know. ❜

five.

      lois could never guess how much smallville would change her life. it changed who she grew to be as a person, it showed her her true calling in life and it put her future husband in her path, even if 19 year old lois lane would love to be able to kill him at the time.

     she never liked the fancy events she was required to attend either for the daily planet or for her husband’s company. as much as she loved being awarded and recognized for her work, the actual party to receive the award was torture to her. thankfully, she had bruce by her side, knowing he hated it as much as she did but they were experts in pretending they belonged there.

     getting home late in the evening, the wayne manor was filled with the  s i l e n c e  of kids sleeping in their bedrooms. she takes off her heels as she goes upstairs, another torture she had to endure, and she doesn’t resist the urge to check on the asleep children. she does this every night she misses their bedtime, thankful for alfred who takes care of them as if they were his own blood. as she closes the door of their daughter’s bedroom, she feels bruce’s arms wrapping her from behind and instinctively leans back on him. “ i think congratulations are in order, ms. lane. ”   she knows exactly what he means and she turns around to face him. she takes his gaze, still astonished by how their lives changed, how they never saw it coming so many years ago, how she got this lucky.   god, how much she loves him.   she tangles her arms around his neck, a smirk following her words.   ❛ any idea in mind, mr. wayne? i think i deserve a proper celebration. it’s not everyday your wife is awarded with another pulitzer. ❜    their lips meet, slowly and softly, an intimate kiss of who knows every inch of the other’s mouth, body, soul. lois takes his hand and leads him to their bedroom, feeling his fingers on her skin as he slides down her dress’ straps, then unzipping it right before they walk in. heels are dropped in the floor and as she hears the door being closed behind her, the dress suffers the same fate. turning around, his jacket and bowtie have already disappeared, hands rushing to unbotton the shirt and she meets him halfway to help. she kisses him again, more intense this time, demanding even. all she wants is to feel his skin under her fingers, a shiver running down her spine as she’s touched by him. unable to contain herself, she pushes him to the bed, desire glowing through her eyes and she’s immediately on top of him, pressing her body against his, rushing back to kiss the lips that she knows so well. it doesn’t matter that she finds herself breathless, or that her body melts under his grip, or that it feels like her heart is going to explode. the world DISAPPEARS, pleasure blinding her and all she wants is to breathe him, to get lost in his scent, to savor his taste,   to feel him inside of her.

[queenofmyheartbodyandsoul13]

 Well, since there are a few hours left before the arrival of Lover and since I don't use this social network so much, I've decided to analyze the titles of the songs that appear in this shirt of Taylor's collaboration with Stella ❤ The idea is that you can also comment on it, what you feel or what you think about it!! Let's get started:

1. I FORGOT THAT YOU EXISTED:  Good way to start Taylor (hahaha);  I only imagine a way to forget that a person existed in a bad way (sorry if it's not) but although the letter used is thick and bold but it has a white shadow & I don't notice hate in it and that confuses me a little & then I wonder... is there a way to forget that a person existed in a good way?  Like a reunion or like to see a person again but with different eyes. Sorry Taylor, the first song it's confusing ☯ now I'm 50/50.

2. CRUEL SUMMER: I think I have a problem with the evil in songs but the “cruel” word can't take me to another place. I think that when something/someone makes you suffer the “cruel” word describes it in a wonderful way &Taylor has suffered this last time and has had to go through many bad things in such a short time, maybe this song is about this things. I also think that (as say all those armed phrases that go around there) the suffering makes us stronger & although it's not nice or good or pleasant to suffer it, in the end when you look back it feels that you could overcome it and that thanks to this today it you're stronger.

3. LOVER: Finally a love song ❤ I have a weakness for love songs (I can't control it) they are always my favorite songs in all the albums of the artists I like. I can't say much about the font used to write this title since it is also the album title!! I think that the typeface and the pink color with glitter all lead us to a place of love and magic & so I hope that this is Taylor's heart today, full of love & magic because she really deserves it.

4. THE MAN: I read a little about this song in the interview Taylor gave & I think that using a very thick, very black & very large font fits perfectly with the theme the song is referring to. Nowadays the issue of feminism (or machism) is very present in our society & precisely I think this song refers to life and the things that women do & are frowned upon by them, but not if they were men (I think if Taylor were a man, nobody would say he only writes songs about his ex).

5. THE ARCHER: First I have to say that I liked more the calligraphy that has the title in the lyric video that in is t-shirt ➳ Now, I think the title of this song is highlighted with that black background and large white letters. I think this may want to mark a break, since in this song Taylor shows her insecurities when it comes to being in a love relationship & now she seems to be happly in love & that all these doubts were left behind.

6. I THINK HE NOWS: This title is inscribed in an ordinary font, high, fine & black... and that's when I wonder what do you think he knows? Do you think he knows you hate him? Do you think he knows you're trying to end things with him? (sorry, I have to start with the bad things first) ❤ Do you think he knows that you are interested in him? Do you think he knows that you love him in secret? Do you think he knows you have wanted him for a long time? I hope that what you think he knows is one of the good things hahaha.

7. MISS AMERICANA & THE HEARTBREAK PRINCE: This song has a title written in a cursive font, as if it were handwritten & for that I feel that this song is one of the most powerful of the album ✎ Also I heard that this song is the favorite of many of those who were present in the secret sessions and that makes me unable to wait to hear it!!! The title of this song leads me directly to imagine one of those love movies that I like so much (I don't know why but I immediately imagine Hilary Duff & Chad Michael Murray in “a Cinderella story”). I also know that "Miss Americana" is the beauty contest that has been held in the USA for so many years & with “the heartbreak prince” I'm going to the movie idea again (sorry, I have to stop watching Netflix) ♚

8. PAPER RINGS: The letter used for this title seems sophisticated and well finished with straight edges but I think that a paper ring is not exactly something sophisticated. When we read the word "ring" we automatically think about marriage, that Taylor is engaged or that she is thinking about getting married... wait WHAT IF SHE ALREADY DID IT? ∞ I think paper rings can be something symbolic, like the wire rings we used as children when we played to get married but that could mean a lot more than a diamond ring that costs thousands of dollars. I HOPE THIS IS A LOVE SONG ❤

9. CORNELIA ST: We are freaking out with this song and the idea that Taylor told us about this song in the New Year this year.  In that image & in the source used to write this title you can specify see different characters called “childhood heroes” by Taylor, it can be a song about heroes ★ I also read out there that Taylor has had "Cornelia St" present throughout her life in different stages and perhaps this could be a song that runs through her life, the goods & the bads.

10. DEATH BY A THOUSAND CUTS: Let's go back to the bad things and moments...  The letter used is very thick, black and you can see some scratches on it.  I think that the idea of ​​"a thousand" can mean something that wears out or breaks from puncturing it or trying to break it, it can be a thing but it can also be a person. In the case of a person, it could represent the wear and tear of trying to refloat after all the moments in which they tried to undo him/her. The word "dead" can refer to that content of always being swimming against the current ☁

11. LONDON BOY: The letter used for this title seems to be distorted or moved and that confuses me a little bit but  Hello Joe Alwyn (?) I am honestly confused, I just hope (as always) that this is another love song ❤

12. SOON YOU'LL GET BETTER: And here's when my heart breaks into a thousand pieces & it doesn't matter the letter or the thickness or the color... I read that Taylor wrote this song for his mother Andrea who is going through that damn disease again. My grandparent suffered it, I know what it feels like & what it means to have appeared again... with it the doubts and insecurities return, we feel weak & broken. My story ends with a happy ending & I'm sure Andrea's too ❤ both are extraordinarily strong!

13. FALSE GOD: Bad bad bad & bad again. I think that many times we can called "God" a person that we believe represents everything good, beautiful & generous in this world, as the person who comes to save us...  but then we have the word "false" accompanying "God" & that is when everything stops being good, nice and generous & becomes bad and disappointing ✘  This song could be about a disappointment of a person whom Taylor thought was different.

14. YOU NEED TO CALM DOWN: Well, I have already heard this song and that is why I can say that this type of font adapts very well to the rhythm & style of the song. It is also a typeface that is being used a lot lately since it is fashionable vintage and old. 

15. AFTERGLOW: I didn't know exactly what this word meant so I had to go to a dictionary and found different definitions.. I found something about the twilight glow; something about a pleasant sensation; and something about drugs and sex.. so I'm confused! haha. Of these three definitions I prefer to choose the second one & that this song is about a sensation of pleasure or well-being, either with another person or with myself, the sensation of being well, complete, in the place that we choose and surrounded by people that we choose and who choose us too ☮

16. ME!: Two lyrics and nothing else to say, it is a special song with the right energy to present a new album... It catches you with its rhythm and its lyrics ✿ And then you can only think of speaking in French, butterflies, cats and pastel colors!!

17. IT'S NICE TO HAVE A FRIEND: but that typeface does not make me think that that friend who is good to have is exactly a good friend!!! Since I saw it I associated it with a letter she would use on Halloween, sorry if it's not. I don't want to make Taylor's friends feel bad if she wrote them a beautiful song  (and I hope it is).

18. DAYLIGHT: This song is the longest on the album, which means that Taylor had many things to say on it. The letter used is large, thick & black, very visible... clearly it's one of the first words that can be read when you are looking at the image so I feel that this song is very special and meaningful to her. And I think it's like seeing the light of the day after a black night, see the good, the beautiful, the important things. Be able to see everything clearly despite not being able to see good things for a while!! 

What do you think of my ideas? Do you share any of them? I want to know it.

Thanks for reading! Please help me reblogging it  ❤

@taylorswift @taylornation

[harrisonstories]

First off, the 2018 Mix, Take 5 Instrumental Backing Track, and Esher Demo of Back in the U.S.S.R. are now on Spotify.

Secondly, Rolling Stone just published an article noting the “15 most revelatory moments” by Rob Sheffield, who was lucky enough to be able to listen to the Super Deluxe Edition of The White Album. You can read the full article here. 

[...]  The outtakes defies the conventional wisdom that this is where the band split into four solo artists. “Do you think the perception of the Beatles history has been tainted by their own commentary in the early Seventies?” [Giles] Martin asks. “That’s what I get. I think post-Beatles, when the champagne cork has flown out of the bottle, and they’ve gone their separate ways, they reacted against it. ‘Oh, to be honest we didn’t work well as a group,’ and that sort of thing. Yet they never slowed down creatively. I quite like the idea of them throwing cups of tea at each other in the studio. I’m mildly disappointed not to find it. But what they’re doing is making a record.”

The Deluxe and Super Deluxe Editions finally unveil the Esher demos, which hardcore Beatle freaks have been clamoring to hear for years. In May 1968, just back from India, the group gathered at George’s bungalow in Esher (pronounced “Ee-sher”) to tape unplugged versions of the new songs they’d already stockpiled for the new album. Over the next days, working together or solo, they busked 27 songs. The tapes sat in a suitcase in George’s house for years. Seven tracks came out on Anthology 3; others have never been released in any Beatle version, including John’s “Child of Nature” and George’s “Sour Milk Sea.” The Esher tapes alone make this collection essential, with a fresh homemade intimacy that’s unique. Martin says, “They’re rough takes, but spiritually, the performances stand on their own.”

Here are 15 of the most revelatory moments:

1. “Revolution 1” The legendary Take 18, a nearly 11-minute jam from the first day of the White Album sessions. The other Beatles were surprised to see someone new at John’s side: Yoko Ono, who became a constant presence in the studio. It begins as the version you know from the record: John’s flubbed guitar intro, engineer Geoff Emerick’s “take two,” John’s “okaaay.” But where the original fades out, this one is just getting started. The groove builds as John keeps chanting “all right, all right,” from a low moan to a high scream. Yoko joins the band to add distorted synth feedback, while Paul clangs on piano. She recites prose poetry, fragments of which that ended up in “Revolution 9”: “It’s like being naked…if you become naked.”

The story of this jam has been told many times, usually presented as a grim scene where Yoko barges in, sowing the seeds of discord—the beginning of the end. So it’s a surprise to hear how much fun they’re all having. It ends in a fit of laughter—she nervously asks, “That’s too much?” John tells her it sounds great and Paul agrees: “Yeah, it’s wild!”

2. “Sexy Sadie” As the band warms up, George playfully sings a hook from Sgt. Pepper: “It’s getting better all the tiiiime!” John snorts. “Is it, right?” Take 3 is an acerbic version of “Sexy Sadie,” with Paul doodling on the organ. Yet despite the nasty wit, the band sounds totally in sync. When George asks, “How fast, John?,” he responds, “However you feel it.”

3. “Long, Long, Long” George’s hushed hymn has always been underrated—partly because it’s mastered way too quiet. In the fantastic Take 44, “Long, Long, Long” comes alive as a duet between George and Ringo, with the drums crashing in dialogue with the whispery vocals. Giles Martin explains, “I suppose, as is documented here, George was Ringo’s best friend, as he says. That song is kind of the two of them.” George starts freestyling at the end: “Gathering, gesturing, glimmering, glittering, happening, hovering, humoring, hammering, laquering, lecturing, laboring, lumbering, mirroring…” It closes with the spooky death-rattle chord, originally the sound of a wine bottle vibrating on Paul’s amp. “It still gives you the fear when it comes.”

4. “Good Night” Of all the alternate takes, “Good Night” is the one that will leave most listeners baffled why this wasn’t the version that made the album. Instead of lush strings, it has John’s finger-picking guitar and the whole group harmonizing on the “good night, sleep tight” chorus. It’s rare to hear all four singing together at this stage, and it’s breathtaking in its warmth. “I do prefer this version to the record,” Martin admits. (He won’t be the last to say this.)

John plays the same guitar pattern as “Dear Prudence” and “Julia.” That’s one of the distinctive sonic features of the White Album—the Beatles had their acoustic chops in peak condition, since there had been nothing else to do for kicks in Rishikesh. In India, their fellow pilgrim Donovan taught them the finger-picking style of London folkies like Davey Graham. “Donovan taught him this guitar part. John was like ‘great!,’ and then in classic Beatle style, went and wrote three songs using the same guitar part.”

The other “Good Night” takes are closer to the original’s cornball lullaby spirit. In one, Ringo croons over George Martin’s spare piano; in another, he does a spoken-word introduction. “Come on now, put all those toys away—it’s time to jump into bed. Go off into dreamland. Yes, Daddy will sing a song for you.” By the end, he quips, “Ringo’s gone a bit crazy.”

5. “Helter Skelter” This Paul song inspired endless studio jams, lurching into proto-headbang noise—they started it the day after the Yellow Submarine premiere, so maybe they just craved the opposite extreme. This take is 13 minutes of primal thud—remarkably close to Black Sabbath, around the time Sabbath were still in Birmingham inventing their sound.

6. “Blackbird” Paul plays around with the song—“Dark black, dark black, dark black night”—trying to nail the vibe. It isn’t there yet. He tells George Martin, “See, if we’re ever to reach it, I’ll be able to tell you when I’ve just done it. It just needs forgetting about it. It’s a decision which voice to use.” He thinks his way through the song, his then-girlfriend Francie audible in the background. “It’s all in his timing,” Martin says. “There’s two separate things, a great guitarist and a great singer—he’s managed to disconnect and put them back together. He’s trying to work out where they meet.”

7. “Dear Prudence” Of all the Esher demos, “Dear Prudence” might be the one that best shows off their rowdy humor. John ends his childlike reverie by cracking up his bandmates, narrating the tale of Prudence Farrow that inspired the song. “A meditation course in Rishikesh, India,” he declares. “She was to go completely berserk under the care of the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi. Everybody around was very worried about the girl, because she was going insaaaane. So we sang to her.”

8. “While My Guitar Gently Weeps” There’s an early acoustic demo, but Take 27, recorded over a month later, rocks harder than the album version—John on organ, Paul on piano, lead guitar from special guest Eric Clapton. (George invited his friend to come play, partly because he knew the others would behave themselves around Clapton.) The groove only falls part when George tries to hit a Smokey Robinson-style high note and totally flubs it. “It’s okay,” George says. “I tried to do a Smokey, and I just aren’t Smokey.”

9. “Hey Jude” Recorded in the midst of the sessions, but planned for a one-off single, Paul’s ballad is still in raw shape, but even in this first take, it’s already designed as a 7-minute epic, with Paul singing the na-na-na outro himself. Another gem on this box: an early attempt at “Let It Be,” with Paul’s original lyric showing his explicit link to American R&B: “When I find myself in times of trouble / Brother Malcolm comes to me.”

10. “Child of Nature” Another treasure from Esher. “Child of Nature” is a gentle ballad John wrote about the retreat to India: “On the road to Rishikesh / I was dreaming more or less.” He scrapped it for the album, but dug it back out a few years later, wrote new words, and turned it into one of his most famous solo tunes: “Jealous Guy.”

11. “JULIA” One of John’s most intimate confessions—the only Beatle track where he’s performing all by himself. You can hear his nerves as he sits with his guitar and asks George Martin, in a jokey Scouse accent, “Is it better standing up, do you think? It’s very hard to sing this, you know.” The producer reassures him. “It’s a very hard song, John.” “‘Julia’ was one of my dad’s favorites,” Giles says. “When I began playing guitar in my teens, he told me to learn that one.”

12. “Can You Take Me Back?” The snippet on Side Four that serves as an eerie transition into the abstract sound-collage chaos of “Revolution 9.” Paul toys with it for a couple of minutes, trying to flesh it out into a bit of country blues—“I ain’t happy here, my honey, are you happy here?”

13. “Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da” Paul spent a week driving the band through this ditty, until John finally stormed out of the studio. He returned a few hours later, stoned out of his mind, then banged on the piano in a rage, coming up with the jingle-jangle intro that gets the riff going. This early version is pleasant but overly smooth—it shows why the song really did need that nasty edge. A perfect example of the Beatle collaborative spirit: John might loathe the song, Paul might resent John’s sabotage, but both care too deeply about the music not to get it right.

14. “Sour Milk Sea” A great George highlight from the Esher tapes—“Sour Milk Sea” didn’t make the cut for the album, but he gave it to Liverpool pal Jackie Lomax who scored a one-shot hit with it. (It definitely deserved to rank ahead of “Piggies,” which remains the weakest track on any version of this album.) “Not Guilty” and “Circles” are other George demos that fell into limbo—“Not Guilty” sounds ready to go at Esher, yet in the studio, it was doomed to over a hundred fruitless takes.

15. “Happiness Is a Warm Gun” A tricky experiment they learned together in the studio, with John toying with the structure and his mock doo-wop falsetto. “Is anybody finding it easier?” he asks. “It seems a little easier—it’s just no fun, but it’s easier.” George pipes in. “Easier and fun.” John replies, “Oh, all right, if you insist.” It’s a moment that sums up all the surprising discoveries on this White Album edition: a moment where the Beatles find themselves at the edge of the unknown, with no one to count on except each other. But that’s when they inspire each other to charge ahead and greet the brand new day.

[neocatharsis]

171219 Daesung - Diraito 2 Album Release Event in Fukuoka

Event 1 in Fukuoka- Q1: What do you feel like eating whenever you visit Fukuoka?

MC: I think I actually know the answer. DS: What do you think it is? MC: Motsunabe. DS: Uuuh, correct!! MC: You love motsunabe, right? DS: I do. There's a place where I always go eat it when I come to Fukuoka. MC: So you went this time too? DS: I did. Yesterday. MC: So fast! Fans: Where where?? DS: I won't tell you. Fans: Wheeere?? DS: (mean laugh) you guys. Fans: Where where? DS: "where, where?" There, there~ well I think those who know, know already. DS: Look, there is one who seems to know. (to the fan who kept asking "where?") please ask her later. Row two, left side, wearing black. Please ask her after the show, she knows the place. (the fan in row 2 nodded confidently)

Q2: What time in your life do you think you are/will be the most popular (with the fans/ladies)? Fans: Now!! DS: (laughs) (suddenly dramatically serious) Not now! Tomorrow! (strikes a pose) *Right after he got so embarrassed that he hid laughing behind his chair

Q3: What do you always keep in your fridge? DS: As a Korean I always keep kimchee. And... what else, hmm... MC: Water I guess? DS: Of course. Hmm... but there isn't much. I don't usually cook. MC: Right. And you can't store anything since you're traveling a lot for work DS: I often order from delivery services, so... I store the left overs in the fridge. But in the end they end up being thrown away by the older lady that keeps my apartment clean. I ask her to clean out my fridge when I'm not there. It's like my garbage bin MC: Wow, she cleans out your fridge, nice! DS: Since I don't keep any utensils/ingredients... yes, I tell her she can just throw it all away. MC: So only kimchee then, since you can keep it for a long time. No alcohol? DS: I keep wine. I have a wine fridge. MC: A wine cellar. DS: (laugh) your voice turned low so suddenly, "wine cellar~" MC: So you pile bottles 1, 2, 3, 4... (gestures) ..oh, not that high? DS: Not that high. About this (indicates about knee height) MC: So about 10 bottles? DS: It fits 32 bottles. MC: And how many bottles do you keep currently? DS: I don't actually drink a lot but I like buying wine, so I usually have many bottles. I don't drink any alcohol a few days before using my voice (to sing) DS: But when I buy wine, I like the feeling of knowing that I will be able to drink it any time. Something to look forward to. They also make good presents. MC: (imitates situation) What do I bring today? 2010.. this one should be good. DS: No. Rather (imitates) hmm how much was this one? Ah, not expensive. Ok, this will do (laugh) MC: Deciding by price (laugh) Which do you prefer? White or red? DS: I like red wine. (they started fooling around, pretending to chill on a sofa & drink wine)

Q4: What was the most recent thing that made you burst of laughter? DS: Burst of laughter... (he thought for a while) oh! I remember! When I saw pictures of Seungri at his birthday party in the Philippines, shirtless. He looked like a panda. DS: He's called panda from the start because of his eye bags. So... the pictures made me think "Oh, so he really became a panda". But he's working out really hard these days. MC: He's an artist after all. DS: Of course. DS: He's been working hard on his ramen business, doing all sorts of research himself. Maybe that's why... MC: Oh! I finally went to Aori the other day! DS: The one in Tokyo? How was it? MC: Amazing, so many people! DS: It's good, right? MC: Really good. DS: He's been working hard on his ramen business, doing all sorts of research himself. Maybe that's why... MC: Oh! I finally went to Aori the other day! DS: The one in Tokyo? How was it? MC: Amazing, so many people! DS: It's good, right? MC: Really good.

Q5: Is there anything you want to master/overcome? DS: Overcome... I have overcome a lot of issues up till now. Those who have been my fans for a long time will probably know it well. There's been a lot of problems, and things I'm still trying to master even now. MC: Even now? DS: I want to be able to continue singing for as long as possible, so I'm taking good care of my throat. The way I have used my voice in the past was not right, so a couple of years ago - I think maybe 4 years, I had a lot of issues with my voice. DS: So that's when I went back to the beginning and started from zero. And I'm still in the process of mastering it. MC: I see... DS: I'm sure there will be a lot of issues to overcome in the future, too. MC: Look at this positive attitude! Amazing. MC: I think you, his fans know this the best. He's such a sincere guy. Constantly mastering issues. I myself am daily trying to overcome my wife. Just yesterday. "Fukuoka tomorrow, again?" - "You see, Daesung's event..." If it's for Daesung, never objects.

Q6: What is the scariest dream you have ever had? DS: I don't dream a lot. I sleep very well. MC: So you don't wake up from dreams a lot? DS: I don't. Ah, but... it's not scary, but during elementary school, I had many dreams where I was conscious that I was dreaming. DS: It was so much fun! I used to jump from huge buildings, or jump very high. Also at times, my dream from the night before would continue the night after. I loved going to sleep during those days. I still remember those dreams well. MC: So when you grew up, you stopped dreaming. You're so busy after all. DS: I just sleep very well. I fall asleep right away. MC: Even when it's noisy? DS: Doesn't affect me at all. Even when I think I won't be able to sleep, before I realize it I passed out. DS: Oh, and also...! Ah, never mind. Fans: What is it?? DS: No, it's ok. Fans: Tell us!! DS: You really want to hear (so much talk about dreams)? MC: Please continue! DS: Well, before I became a trainee, in middle school I used to take lessons at an academy. DS: After we (students) finished our lessons, we used to fall asleep in the classroom, all tired out. We used to fall asleep with music playing in the background. So in my dreams, the singer of that song would appear! MC: Performing? DS: Yes! DS: No matter how intense the dream was, suddenly the side corner turns into a bar and there is the singer, performing live. So impressive. It happened to me once, so the next time I tried playing a song of a singer I wanted to see in my dreams. Like Beyoncé. DS: But... MC: She didn't appear? DS: She didn't. MC: So it happened only once. So the singer who appeared was.. DS: Gummy, it was Gummy-san. MC: Gummy-san!! Yeah, she would fit into a bar setting. DS: Right? MC: You don't happen to remember the song? DS: It was Ani, a Korean song. MC: Wow. Such an interesting topic.

Q7: Name an item you have liked & kept using for a long time. DS: I... don't really like change. That goes for my phone as well. As long as I can still use it, I won't exchange it for a new one. MC: Your wallet too, for example? DS: Yes. As long as I don't lose it... MC: If you don't lose it! Do you lose your wallet often then? DS: Not really! Last year? Or 2 years ago, I lost my wallet in the airport. But bet it was stolen! You know the sky shop at the airport? I paid something and put my wallet on the side of the counter DS: I remember clearly putting it there. And right after leaving the airport and entering the car, I noticed that it's gone. So it would definitely be early enough to still get it back, but when we called the shop, they said it's nowhere to be found. MC: Quite possible that someone took it then. DS: Right. So that made me realize that in the end, you can trust nobody but yourself. (audience laughs) DS: And that I need to be more careful. MC: So as long as that doesn't happen, you keep using it a long time. DS: Yes. MC: How about your bag? Do you use one? DS: I do. Actually there was one I used for a long time, not my current one but before. I kept using it for 3 or 4 years, but then the zipper broke. So I went to the store (where I bought it) to get it fixed. MC: A world star who goes to the store to gets the zipper of his bag fixed!! Wow. DS: I have used it for so long, and it's the inside that counts right? I felt bad just asking them to fix it, so I bought a new bag to make up for it. I asked them while paying. DS: And the staff told me "this model is so old! You're still using it?" MC: Wow. So the bag that you get fixed is at home? DS: Yes, I keep it at home. MC: I see... who wouldn't want a husband like that? Fans: I do!!! MC: Please keep on dreaming. Fans: (laugh)

Q8: How do you spend your time while on the move (flights etc)? MC: Perfect topic for your wallet story. DS: (laugh) right! Well... in general I don't eat the in-flight meal. MC: No way! DS: It's too salty. And I guess I just got tired of it. DS: During our world tour I realized something funny. No matter where you go in the world, for some reason the food on the plane tastes always the same. No matter which airline. The same goes for hotels. Similar seasoning. I don't like room service either. DS: So usually... I just sit and sleep. MC: But on your world tour - I mean a flight to Japan is only about 2 hours, so it's alright. But on a 10h flight, isn't it a bit tough not to eat anything? DS: Ah, on long flights I eat it! MC: But you're right, in-flight meals are a bit salty, to preserve the food. DS: Yes, and up high in the air, your taste buds are less sensitive, I heard. That's why the food is higher in calories and the flavor is much stronger. MC: Huh~ An in-flight meal pro MC: But I'm surprised still (that you don't eat it) I mean, first and business class food is quite good after all. DS: Oh, but I do drink wine sometimes. MC: (laugh) Makes you sleep well too! DS: Right, some wine and then (snores)

Q9: What is BIGBANG to you? DS: Right... hm... I have said this in the past, but... BIGBANG is like a puzzle. MC: A puzzle! (dramatic voice) five pieces form a perfect picture. If only one piece is missing, it won't be complete. Five pieces as one - BIGBANG! DS:🤣🤣👏👏 /Laughing DS: I want to record this! I can use it at interviews, just like that! MC: (laugh) DS: So yes, that's one of the meanings behind it. The other is - every piece is different, right? The five of us all have a very different character. We don't overlap. DS: In terms of music, we all like hip-hop, but apart from that we all like very different genres. And the things we like are different too. I for example am not interested in paintings at all. But since our interests don't overlap, we don't argue about them. DS: We just accept those differences. There's something I'm envious of though. When TOP for example drinks just a slight bit of alcohol, he will just keep staring at a painting for forever. (imitates his moved face) DS:  I'd watch him from the side wondering "what the hell is he even thinking about?" (laugh) He gets so inspired that he's about to cry, almost. Since we're artists, it's good to receive inspiration from many different things. So it's a good thing. DS: It makes me a bit envious that he has that, and it's a pity that I don't. But I suppose not having it gives me the kind of power of expression that I have, so both ways are good. MC: Different personalities. DS: Yes. We accept all our differences.

Credit: mshinju

[quenepas]

Get to know me better~

(from askmemeslmao) @cayendo-contigo asked me to do all of these so I’m just gonna post them here - if any of you want to spend time doing something 100% productive, feel free to do it. Just tag me if you do so I can learn some more about you! But I'd like to see these pals' responses: @normalpancakes @the-bug @supercforcute 💙💙

germany 🇩🇪 : do you like bread? // Freshly baked with butter, ooooh yeah baby

france 🇫🇷 : ever drunk alcohol? // Just sips around my family b/c yes I’m a goody two-shoes.

england 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿 : ever made a mistake you really regret? // Yes, many times. They are mistakes that revolve around my insecurity and social anxiety, and they have affected (and still are affecting) all areas of my life - academic, professional, and social. There are many opportunities throughout middle and high school (and my first year of college now) that I’ve missed because of my social anxiety. Please don’t end up aging and then looking back at your life with an ever-growing feeling of dissatisfaction and resentfulness. 

scotland 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿 : do you prefer summer or winter? // Summer all the way. Give me the boardwalks and beaches, flip-flops, barbecue picnics, people hanging out and playing out in the streets and neighborhoods, swimming pool parties, amusement parks, ice cream, fireworks, AHHHHHHHH I’M SUMMER-SICK

italy 🇮🇹 : currently in a relationship? // ...no. Hmph...

wales 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿 : how old are you? // 18

finland 🇫🇮 : longest you’ve ever been in a relationship? // *grows uncomfortable* I’ve never been in a relationship, ok?

sweden 🇸🇪 : have you ever been to ikea? // Hell yeah, I can spend an entire week in Ikea. 

norway 🇳🇴 : do you prefer wearing trousers or skirts? // Skirts/dresses year-long, with sneakers, sandals, boots, etc.

spain 🇪🇸 : do you take naps during the day? // I’ve discovered this year that one cannot simply survive college without naps, so yes.

portugal 🇵🇹 : your sexuality? // Idk man, I just want genuine love. I'm inexperienced with this *huff*

estonia 🇪🇪 : do you have a crush? // No. Tbh, I haven’t had one since middle school, so there’s that. I think that I avoid developing crushes b/c I already know that no one’s really gonna be interested in me so...I’m a hypocrite. 

ireland 🇮🇪 : favourite tv show? // I’m gonna be a stereotypical white college student and say The Office. you can’t go wrong with that.

denmark 🇩🇰: what were you doing at 20.30 last saturday? // In my room probably feeling moping around b/c I still haven’t gone out to a party.

poland 🇵🇱: do you have any pets? // A beagle-basset hound mix! He’s the cutest round boy (and old ;;-;)

austria 🇦🇹: do you like chocolate? // Dark chocolate is bae 

switzerland 🇨🇭: ever kissed a girl? // No :/ hmu if you’d like to be my first kiss

romania 🇷🇴: morning or evening? // Morning. But only b/c I don’t hang out with people at night, which I bet would be fun *mopes around some more*

bulgaria 🇧🇬: who was the last person you snapchatted? // what is snapchatting?

czech republic 🇨🇿: is there a song that never fails to make you cry? // The reason behind it is personal, but Ben Howard’s Every Kingdom album. It’s not the lyrics or type of music, but just the memories that it brings to me when I used to listen to it regularly on my iPod.

slovakia 🇸🇰: how many languages can you speak? // This question belongs to Rosita I speak two

slovenia 🇸🇮: what colour is your hair at the moment? // Black

monaco 🇲🇨: do you have an iPhone? // iPhone 7

the netherlands 🇳🇱 : when did you last see your mum? // Last weekend, my parents came to my uni to visit me

greece 🇬🇷: do you live with your father? // Yes and I love him with all my heart

croatia 🇭🇷: do you wear glasses? // Used to, but now I wear contacts

belgium 🇧🇪: favourite colour? // Carolina blue *hint hint*

iceland 🇮🇸 : if you could chose one thing to be in your future, what would you choose? // Genuine peace with myself, feeling worthy, loving myself

ukraine 🇺🇦 : what’s the most money you’ve ever spent on clothes? // Idk...must not be a lot if I don’t remember

malta 🇲🇹 : have you ever been on a cruise? // Yep, for my quinceañera. It was really fun but I felt it was more like a week of distracting myself from thinking that we were in the middle of the fucking ocean.

hungary 🇭🇺 : would you date someone 3 years older than you? // They’d be 21, a senior or junior in college...yeah I would.

cyprus 🇨🇾 : if you could kill one person without any risk of being caught for it, would it be someone related to you? // No...but the deepest, darkest part of me can definitely think of someone NOT related to me, and I know I’m not the only one

luxembourg 🇱🇺 : what’s the coldest temperature you’ve ever experienced? // sub zero Farenheit, that's all that needs to be said, and that I wanted to sink into a scorching hot bathtub

serbia 🇷🇸 : do you use instagram? // Yeah, although I don’t really post pics on it b/c I don’t like taking selfies and I have no aesthetic photo-taking skills. It’s celenid_ if any of you want to follow me though

🇦🇱 : can you swim well? // Oooh yeahh, I think I’ve been swimming since I was a toddler (but not competitively, hell no) 

lithuania 🇱🇹 : if you could go back in time to a moment in your life, when would you go back to? // When I was younger in Puerto Rico, my family, plus some extended family members, went to El Yunque, a little rainforest with a waterfall (in the already tiny island). It was probably the happiest day of my life. I miss Puerto Rico so much, god. 

montenegro 🇲🇪 : pizza or pasta? // Don’t do this to me pizza

latvia 🇱🇻 : do you have any scars with an interesting or grisly story? // Nope

macedonia 🇲🇰 : ever eaten snails? // Fuck no

belarus 🇧🇾 : last book you read? // That I read for my personal enjoyment? I haven’t read one in ages (that’s not class-related). I honestly forgot.

bosnia 🇧🇦 : last time you cried? // I’m a badass bitch, I never cry 😤 when my family came to see me last weekend

moldova 🇲🇩 : do you have a sister? // Yes, she’s 13 y’know those awkward middle school years, and I love her

[superbatson]

frozen denver: a reaction post

yeah, i decided to watch the frozen boot in its entirety on a snow day. it seemed appropriate enough. 😜

act one

i really dig this narrator/troll guy. he’s kinda hot (but that’s probably bc he’s shirtless constantly with tattoos/body paint and biceps & abs for days... mm, yes)

i like the diversity aspect of having elsa & anna’s dad be black. only, for the show to be realistic, elsa & anna shouldn’t be so light-skinned. while it is possible to have mixed parents and come out as white-passing, it’s more likely/common for the kids’ skins to be at least somewhat dark/medium. both girls don’t look mixed at all.

ooh, the “monster” melody appears in the beginning? i love it! (with bonus foreshadowing, yes please!)

patti is a really good anna. she’s quite adorable, and her voice is a really good fit for the character.

these ice projects are fantastic, i especially love the ones on the objects elsa’s holding when she first appears

bringing the remaining cast of characters in for “first time in forever” is a very smart move. it really makes it feel like this song is more the opening number, despite what we’ve already seen/heard so far. now the real story can begin.

hans is reeeeeally awkward in the beginning, wow. he wasn’t like this in the original film. a little awkward/clumsy, yeah, but not any more than anna. he’s like ten times more awkward than anna now, but john as a cute smile, so i’ll give him that.

weaselton’s tango is kind of unnecessary, but still a fun little transition between scenes. kinda makes the show feel more like a movie, since that’s more something that you’d find in a movie than a broadway show.

even if i was never a huge fan of the original movie, “love is an open door” has definitely been my favorite song from this franchise ever since i saw it, and john & patti sound even better singing this song than kristen & santino. i love this performance.

i’ll admit, i watched this performance before when i initially downloaded the boot and gosh, the slightly adult-ish humor is great. anna’s hand sliding down han’s chest, hilarious! these lil dorks really don’t know how to flirt.

i love the dance break!!!! it’s so cute and fun! and very in-character.

best part of that number has to be how quickly-yet-gradually john’s curls begin to fall loose. they’re just everywhere by the end, and i love it!

oh god now they’re making out as they transition scenes... this is a family show!

i just noticed that when anna comes back out to officially meet/team up with kristoff, the strip of white in her hair has gotten bigger... i’m guessing the whiteness will continue to grow as the show goes on?

oh no i really like jelani’s voice too. what the heck, this cast is so talented?!?!

i love the production design for this show. it really makes you feel like you’re in a cold, snowy, frozen place. (but the same can be said for ghd, because that also did a really good job of setting the mood in terms of the weather of the show.)

this is now the second time anna’s been lifted up in the air (or, i guess, swept off her feet... *ba dum tss*) by a male character in the show... is there supposed to be a height joke there?

they really could have done a better job with how they incorporate olaf into the show, at least from a design standpoint. everything so far makes the show seem realistic, like it could be set in the real world - or, say, like a live-action movie. but olaf looking exactly like the animated movie? terrible. i get that he has a particular look to him, but disney, please change it going into broadway, thanks.

(i don’t even care if they give him black, button eyes that could make him look creepier. it’ll be realistic, and we all learned to love the hyper-realistic cgi characters of 2017′s beauty and the beast, right?)

greg is... alright as olaf. a little too much like a gad copycat to me. and while i understand how much the kids like “in summer” and it shows how adorable dumb olaf is as a character, is it really necessary in the broadway show? it’s just too much of a break from the main plot of the show.

oh, look, they fixed john’s hair, ha, that’s great. there’s just like a single curl falling on his forehead now.

ohh, yes, give me this assertive leader hans. i love this character growth. (bc i’m the weirdo who’s always loved hans, even when he ends up being evil. sue me.)

“let it go” is such an overrated song, but damn, does it make a good act one closer! (and that ice dress is gorgeous, ugh, best costume of the show so far.)

act two

oh no they kept the trading post guy. why

wait, he’s just talking to the audience. i guess this is a filler-type thing to give people some extra time in the bathroom or getting snacks/merch? eh, alright. glad more shows are doing that now, though i’ll always make sure i’m right back in my seat the second the curtain lifts again for act two.

he has a song too. yeah, this is all filler. let’s see if this song is better than “poor pirates”. (it probably won’t be, but who knows?)

answer: it’s not. it’s very lame and kind of annoying, really.

aw, i kind of liked anna in the practical winter gear. but i guess this second dress is even more notable (for her) from the movie, so it was kind of inevitable that they’d incorporate it, right?

kristoff getting excited over the castle made entirely of ice. i like this little addition to the script.

i’ve forgotten how good elsa’s part in this “first time in forever” reprise is. can i get a studio recording of that as a solo?

it makes sense that they’d do away with the snow monster thing that sends anna, kristoff, and olaf out, but i’m confused as to what actually did send them out. more snow? a big gust of wind? elsa separating herself with more ice walls? what???

another olaf song? really? is that necessary?

they kept the “i don’t have a skull, or bones” line. that’s, like, the only olaf line i like, so, good.

ohhh, yeah, the trolls are still there and they’re still kristoff’s parents. i’m suddenly remembering the line in the opening about the trolls raising some human kids...

“fixer upper” also feels like a very unnecessary song??? i dunno, maybe i’m just sick of it from the movie. (or i just never liked it anyway)

the troll leader guy’s name is pabbie. just listing that here, for, uh, safe keeping...

watching the original movie again recently, i came to the realization that kristoff’s a very one-dimensional character with not a lot of growth or depth or anything like that. i’m still not completely sold on him as a character here, but i’ll admit, he has a lot more personality now. and this lullaby further helps to show that. good for you, frozen on broadway. you fixed something from the original film.

i just noticed that the troll guy’s - pabbie! - tail moves. not just with the motion of him walking, but it swings back and forth, more than i think it naturally would from the motion of walking. such a cool little detail!

it might be because i’ve listened to it several times before, but “monster” is definitely my favorite new song written for this show on broadway. it shows more of elsa’s fear about not controlling her powers and fear that others will fear her. it’s also just really catchy. kind of goes with “hope” in terms of super powerful and darn good broadway songs.

“if i die, would they be free?” yup, this song definitely goes hand-in-hand with “hope”. (though it’s a bit dark for a disney song...)

“she’s scared, so back off” SEE I TOLD YOU HANS IS A GOOD GUY #justiceforhans2k18

“why do you protect her?” “......for anna.” me:

.

(the only ships i care about for frozen are hans/anna and hans/elsa, sorry)

ohhh, john’s delivery of the “if only there was someone out there who loved you” line is good. i love how he smiles and laughs before saying it.

(i especially love how it’s really the same smile we saw before, that looked all cute, sweet, and innocent, but now it has a dark, evilness to it. eee, it’s great!)

(i’m a sucker for good villains, if you couldn’t already tell)

a third, sinister version of “hans of the southern isles”? yes please!

my prediction from earlier was right: patti’s wig is whiter now, to go with how more and more frozen anna’s becoming

HIS LIL EVIL LAUGH AHH YES

okay, two little flaws with the scene i’m watching (i had no comments on the “true love” song or anna’s conversastion with olaf) - hans should be  more sad/solemn when he says that anna’s dead, not just yelling it? i mean, he can be loud, but at least show some emotion. and isn’t elsa there to hear that anna’s supposedly dead? she should be there to hear the news so that she’s defeated enough that hans has the opportunity to kill her...

oh, these ensemble members in all white are supposed to represent the storm... that’s cool!

now, elsa’s finding out that anna’s “dead”... nevermind about my previous criticism, then

“may i kiss you?” “yes, you may!” oh, that’s cute

so hans gets punched and then just stumbles offstage - will we get any more closure with him in the next five minutes, or no?

ohh, i like this “love is an open door”/”true love” mashup

overall thoughts

i honestly can’t wait to download this album/stream it on spotify. it’s really good. as i have said and will continue to say, i didn’t like the original film, but dammit, this show has officially sold me on the franchise. i kind of love it.

i don’t know who i want to win now at the tony’s. i mean, frozen has freakin’ oscars, so if it loses, i’ll be fine, and if it wins, i won’t be surprised, but the actors? between this cast and spongebob, i just don’t know. one of the ladies here, more likely cassie, should definitely win for best actress. as for the men, well, obviously my preferences like with ethan for lead and gavin for supporting, but john and jelani are really good too. and it’s really a tie for song & lyrics, both shows are so good. even the frozen costumes are great, though spongebob’s are just a little more creative when it comes to the ensemble...

going back to the music, i also hope they keep some of the score pieces for the soundtrack. the score’s really good.

i also think everyone’s well-cast in each of their respective roles. no one seems out of place here. the show can only get better when it transitions to broadway.

[boulevardk]

#BLACKLIVESMATTER

Hello,

I apologize for how inactive and silent I have been on the app as of late. Originally, a little over a week ago, I had logged off to focus on my studies. And then I just stayed logged off to focus my attention on spreading awareness for the Black Lives Matter movement on twitter, which I would say is the main social media platform for accurate information about protests and the injustice the poc- SPECIFICALLY the Black community- face every day. But I definitely need to address the same situation here.

George Floyd, an innocent and unarmed black man, was murdered by police in Minneapolis on May 25, 2020. There were four police officers repsonsible for his death: Derek Chauvin, Tou Thao, J. Alexander Kueng, and Thomas K. Lang. And as of today, June 2nd, only ONE of these four monsters have been convicted. While all of them have been fired, that is not enough. Especially when the officer who WAS convicted, Derek Chauvin, the criminal who suffocated and murdered Floyd by pressing his knee into Floyd’s throat for over 8 minutes, a VERY INTENTIONAL MURDER, was only convicted on charges of third degree murder and second degree man slaughter.

For those of you who don’t already know, these charges are nothing short of lenient and unacceptable, to say the least.

Third degree murder is defined as ACCIDENTALLY killing someone, as second degree manslaughter implies as well. There was absolutely nothing accidental about Derek Chauvin’s actions. He wanted to kill Floyd, and he is being shielded by the corrupt, notoriously racist system that is law enforcement. Not only was his sentencing nowhere near as severe and incriminating as it should have been, but Chauvin has also been granted protection by the Minneapolis PD after there were threats on his life. This monster is being protected by the fascist, racist, amoral system that condones and promotes brutality against the Black community.

Floyd’s murder inspired protests for the Black Lives Matter movement in cities across the United States. The last time I checked, there were only two states within America that didn’t have protests happening.

I cannot stress this enough, the protests and standing for justice is of the utmost importance. Time and time again, law enforcement and politics have failed the American public, putting its inhabitants- SPECIFICALLY POC AND EVEN MORE SPECIFICALLY BLACK LIVES AND CIVIL RIGHTS- in danger. We cannot wait for change to come; we must actively fight for it ourselves.

George Floyd was just the tip of the iceberg. There have been thousands of cases just like his. He was not the first innocent, unarmed black person to be murdered in cold blood because of their race, and he won’t be the last UNLESS WE STAND AND FIGHT FOR JUSTICE AND CHANGE. And if you don’t believe law enforcement is corrupt and racist, just take a look at the statistics:

- There were only twenty-seven days of 2019 where police did not kill someone

- Black people are at minimum three times as likely to be murdered by police than white people 

- 99% of killings by police from 2013-2019 have NOT resulted in officers being charged with a crime 

(source: https://mappingpoliceviolence.org/)

The facts speak for themselves. 

This movement and these protests are absolutely essential to protecting and fighting for the civil rights and lives of black people everywhere. 

Not only is law enforcement composed of evil, racist individuals with god complexes and vindictive, violent vendettas who abuse their power and murder innocent people because of their race, but the government is filled to the brim with the same type of hate and injustice. 

In response to the protests, the spineless, inhumane, evil tyrant Trump (the monster that part of America actually elected to be President) tweeted:

Which was so violent, hateful, and racist that Twitter flagged it as having violated their policy about glorification of violence. 

The saying, “when the looting starts, the shooting starts” was originally said by fellow racist Miami police chief Walter Headley in 1967 in response to black protesters fighting for civil rights. He was notorious for abusing his power and actively inciting violence to fuel his racist agenda.

From one evil racist to another. 

(source: https://www.npr.org/2020/05/29/864818368/the-history-behind-when-the-looting-starts-the-shooting-starts)

This tweet incited even more violence. While power-hungry, corrupt, abusive cops were already at protests, arresting innocent protesters (primarily black protesters), firing rubber bullets and spraying teargas and mace against protesters (AGAIN primarily black protesters), Trump’s insensitive, evil tantrum on twitter only incited more violence. As of the past day, Trump has sent in the National Guard, a highly militant group, into cities with protests. Not to mention, racist white supremacist civilians have been at protests, heavily armed themselves. A statement from these monsters stated that they were waiting for Trump to “give [them] the green light” to start shooting protesters. If you are not disgusted with this, you are part of the problem.

(Evidence below)

If you follow, support, or even voted for Trump, unfollow and block me. You may not recognize or admit it, but associating yourself with that monster makes your just as evil as he is. And YES you ARE A RACIST if you voted for/support him! There is no reasonable, valid dispute to that fact. 

Ahmaud Arbery. George Floyd. Christian Cooper. Breanna Taylor. Atatiana Jefferson. Kathryn Johnson. Anthony Hill. Kevin Davis. Walter Scott. Jordan Davis. Renisha McBride. Tamir Rice. Philando Castile. Sandra Bland. Tayvon Martin. Oscar Grant. John Crawford. Alton Sterling. Nicholas Thomas. Amadou Diallo. Eric Gamer. The Charleston 9. 

This is just a small portion of the black people who have been abused and murdered by racists. Some of which, by the way, were murdered by white supremacists who weren’t cops and STILL were heavily armed. If we’ve proven that no law enforcement official should have these weapons, CERTIANLY civilians shouldn’t have them! And even though these white supremacists who murdered black people were NOT a part of law enforcement and shielded behind a badge, there STILL wasn’t justice. These racist criminals have NEVER BEEN HELD ACCOUNTABLE IN THE EYES OF LAW ENFORCEMENT SPECIFICALLY OTHER RACIST COPS, PROSECUTORS, AND JURORS. THAT’S BECAUSE THE SYSTEM ITSELF IS BROKEN. NO SYSTEM REFORM CAN CHANGE THE SYSTEMIC RACISM DEEPLY EMBEDDED AND WOVEN INTO LAW ENFORCEMENT.

The Black Lives Matter movement wasn’t something that just magically showed up over night after Floyd’s murder. This isn’t some newly found racism and hatred on behalf of law enforcement, politicians, and civilians.

THIS INJUSTICE HAS EXISTED SINCE WHITE COLONIZERS “DISCOVERED” AMERICA IN THE FIRST PLACE. THESE RACIST, EVIL IDEOLOGIES STEM BACK SO MUCH FURTHER THAN JUST THE PAST COUPLE OF YEARS. DON’T ALLOW YOURSELF TO BELIEVE THIS MOVEMENT AND THESE INJUSTICES DIDN’T EXIST JUST BECAUSE YOU DIDN’T KNOW ABOUT, WEREN’T DIRECTLY AFFECTED BY, AND/OR IGNORED THEM.

To my white/white passing readers, you have more privilege than you probably realize. Learn about your privilege and use it to fight for justice. Just because you may not be directly impacted by these murders, protests, or injustices does NOT mean they should matter any less to you. We all have a responsibility to stand up for what’s right and to fight for justice. And if you happen to go to a protest, it is CRUCIAL that you do not instigate or provoke any violence. Not only does this make it dangerous for other protesters, but it’s just another opportunity for the media to invalidate the meanings of this movement.

If you are ignorant, there is nothing wrong with realizing and admitting that. The REAL problem with you ignorance is if you recognize it and deliberately choose not to educate yourself. At that point, you are directly disregarding the injustices. 

I cannot emphasize this enough: THERE IS NO NEUTRALITY IN THIS. 

You either recognize your ignorance, educate yourself, and fight for justice or you take the side of the oppressor. That goes for all my non-black readers reading this not just white people. 

To my readers who aren’t black or white, you still do very much have a responsibility to be speaking up about and standing with the movement for justice. And even if you’re not white, you are not immune from racism, ignorance, and/or intolerance.

To my black readers, my blog has always been and always will be a safe space for you. Although I can never fully understand the prejudice, hate, and injustice you experience firsthand, I will fight alongside you. 

To ALL readers no matter what your race, please please PLEASE hold me accountable to anything and everything I say. If anything I say offends you or makes you uncomfortable, please let me know. Not only will I immediately delete or edit my post and apologize, but I will do everything in my power to learn from my mistakes and combat my ignorance. 

If you ever need support or someone to talk to, my messages are always open, and I will do everything I can to help you. Please feel free to reach out. 

As for my parting notes in this letter, I would like to address a few more topics. 

Firstly, on a much more superficial level, I will be posting more resources for the movement on my twitter under the same name @brokenspinez​, and additionally, my DMs are always open there as well if that is a preferred, more comfortable form of communication for you. 

Secondly, and related to the prior topic, I will be making another post shortly addressing Yoongi’s intro to “What do you think” off of his second studio album D2 and issues/ignorance within the fandom. More info for what I think about that particular situation can be found on my twitter as well. 

Third, I want to specify to the non-black readers of this post that this movement is not an opportunity for you to bring up the injustices you have faced. Even if you have suffered from injustice because of your race, now is not the time or place to be talking about your experiences as if to prove that your race has suffered tremendously too. That’s not what’s important right now. Your feelings are valid, but if you only bring up the prejudice your race suffers from in an attempt to silence the #BlackLivesMatter movement, that’s sick and wrong. 

Fourth, do not comment on any social media platform anything along the lines of “not all cops”. I do not care for this justification of police brutality, and I certainly do not care to hear you defend the corrupt system that abuses and murders black people simply because of the color of their skin. In addition, I do not care for or support praise for cops being decent human beings. A cop doesn’t get a gold star and a pat on the back just because they themselves don’t appear to be racist even though the belong to a racist, fascist federation. I don’t care to hear people rave in support over one cop that happens to kneel in solidarity with protesters. Now is not the time to be supporting and defending cops; that is not the purpose of the this movement. Never forget that ALL media outlets- especially news providers- pick and choose parts of a story to make it fit their agenda. Do not fall for the narrative they paint about about these acts of violence from police officers just being a “few bad apples”. That is incorrect.

Fifth, there has been looting at some of these protests. But I implore you to not be so easily fooled by the news that these looters are only black protesters. In fact, a majority of looting and damage to property either comes from

A) ignorant white protesters that won’t be held accountable

B) people not at all involved in the protest who just take advantage of the situation

or

C) white supremacists/cops who go undercover and commit crimes to reflect poorly on the movement.

Are there some looters/protesters who vandalize property who ARE black? Yes. But it is not the majority. Don’t allow yourself to be tricked. 

(sources: https://www.valleynewslive.com/content/news/Fargo-Police-Saturdays-rioters-and-looters-mostly-outsiders--570911841.html  AND https://www.justsecurity.org/70497/far-right-infiltrators-and-agitators-in-george-floyd-protests-indicators-of-white-supremacists/)

Sixth and finally, I want to link some websites where you can help contribute to the cause. Below are some links to various donations, petitions, and resources with information about protesting. Even if you are not in a situation where you can protest or donate (which is completely valid), there is no reason why you cannot sign FREE petitions, educate yourself on the movement, and spread awareness on social media. 

Here are some links and resources:

1) https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/

2. A link to a petition for Breanna Taylor, an awardwinning EMT who was shot and killed in her home by police. Police, unannounced, fired 22 rounds, hitting Taylor 8 times and murdering her. Her murderers have faced no criminal changes. JUSTICE FOR BREANNA. http://chng.it/q8PthQmtfX

3. petition for Emerald Black, a pregnant woman brutally attacked by police. She suffered a miscarriage from police brutality after she and her fiancé were pulled over. Currently, there is no investigation being conducted. JUSTICE FOR EMERALD. https://www.change.org/p/san-leandro-police-deartment-justice-for-emerald-black

4. petition for disbarment of George E. Barnhill, a prosecutor who sat FOR THREE MONTHS on the case of the murder of innocent, unarmed black man Ahmaud Arbery because of his own racist beliefs/relationship with the murderers. JUSTICE FOR AHMAUD ARBERY. https://www.change.org/p/federal-bureau-of-investigation-disbarment-of-george-e-barnhill

5. petition to put the cops who murdered George Floyd in prison. George Floyd was another innocent, unarmed black man who was murdered by police. he was in pristine health, and an autopsy paid for by Floyd’s Family through a private forensic pathologist confirmed that it was asphyxiation caused by Chauvin knee on Floyd’s neck that killed him. No matter how law enforcement tries to deny it and say Floyd died because of prexisting health conditions and drug use, we know the truth. JUSTICE FOR FLOYD. https://www.change.org/p/federal-bureau-of-investigation-put-the-minneapolis-police-officers-who-killed-george-floyd-in-prison?recruiter=766698229&utm_source=share_petition&utm_medium=twitter&utm_campaign=psf_combo_share_message&utm_term=psf_combo_share_abi&recruited_by_id=37d65b20-88e6-11e7-9751-b3880c72a222&share_bandit_exp=message-22417260-en-US&share_bandit_var=v2

6. Gofundme link to Floyd’s family to cover costs of legal advising and representation, George Floyd’s autopsy conducted by a private forensic pathologist, Floyd’s funeral, and other various costs. https://www.gofundme.com/f/georgefloyd

Thank you for reading. If you have any other links to add to this post, please message me and I will edit the document. Stand with the Black Lives Matter movement. Stand for justice.

- Jay (6/2/2020)