#it might as well be a dif band

[6ad6ro]

i feel like somebody is gonna yell at me for saying this

but i think "the seeds of love" by tears for fears was like 100x worse than their first two albums

[bitch-butter]

but also havve you Seen this is us, because that film felt like notes from ross' therapist turned into a script i was like 👀👀👀👀 sir we really gonna put our mommy issues out there? for everyone????? to see????? Alright. ok sir. alright.

anyway. i also would like. to know your insight. about the Back Packing Trip. because. well. i am. Curious.

i Have seen About Us and it was a sad bad film that made me feel sad and bad for ross as a person, and i thought it couldn't get any worse for him but then i remembered he made A Violent Man, and i was like that's the actual worse thing but Then i remembered it was originally called Ire so not only is he Bad but he's also Stupid.

let's talk about the backpacking trip

first of all, the whole thing is really giving the one scene of call me by your name i can recall where they're like romping in front of a waterfall, and i feel like this trip Also had like a soft malevolent energy from the beginning. 

(also not to be this way but like who backpacks, let alone as a pair? that's like, a front for something else lol. i knew like Peers who Had Money who backpacked together after high school and college but i Earnestly can't imagine what one Does backpacking across Europe together besides finger each other.)

like, it's very sad to imagine in hindsight because Young Ross probably thought this was the beginning of his new life and he was going to take his HBO money and his hot psycho and retire the both of them to Miami Beach or wherever gay people went in the late 90s to Settle Down. it Truly was probably like signed, sealed, delivered at the beginning of that trip, and the waves of young love carried them off on their journey like seraphims or whatever the fuck.

and on a level I'm sure eion Liked him, bc even though I think he should be thrown down a well i just can't Conceptualize him fucking ross, staying homies with him, agreeing to go on a homosexual backpacking trip together, and still seeming to be somehwhat cool with him if he Didn't. the dif is just that i think eion legit was fucking around and refusing to find out, like clearly he had a lot going on at that time and ross was probably just his friend who he fucked on occasion and that was it. it's not technically his fault that ross thought that eventually he'd stop fucking other people and only fuck him, it's trap we've all fallen into on the long road to self actualization. when people tell you who they are, believe them (i learned that watching Vanderpump Rules).

so in my onion this all comes to a head at the end of the trip, after they've been having this like fun sexy time for like a month and a half, when they hit up The Club in Prague and eion is Enjoying himself and ross demonstrably is Not. by now eion is like ok we've had fun c'est la vie and ross is Deeply betrayed by the fact that the love of his young life is making out with other people in The Club and is not being apologetic in the fucking slightest about it. but, again, you knew who this bitch was when you met him. 

and he subsequently has to place a drunken collect call to the area beneath an isolated demilitarized zone, which is where matt settle lives, sounding like - as @airsigns knows - the lyle menendez 911 call where he's screaming crying blowing his nose into the receiver begging for help getting flown out.

suffice it to say, eion stays on his european vaca prob getting fucked and sucked all day and ross has to flee (not unlike Taylor Swift on that boat in the blue dress). and deeply darkly he does think eion might come after him, and guess what? he didn't!

and like their whole relationship ever since has been fraught with the insane tension of eion thinking he did nothing wrong and they were just friends who had An Experience together, and ross who still looks at him like an incubus who ruined his life but who he can never be free of, not only because Band of Brothers became an iconic show and this fandom exists to praise them, but because as hard as he tries young love and first heartbreak doesn't ever Really go away.

[jingabitch]

Let Love Be Enough

SUMMARY: On the day of your daughter’s wedding, you can’t avoid Taehyung.

PAIRING: ex-husband!Taehyung x reader

GENRE: angst, smut

RATING: E

WARNINGS: angst | infidelity | arguing | smut | unprotected sex | use of flashbacks im not sure about | emotional sex | crying during sex

WORD COUNT: 9.4k

A/N: i hope you guys like this!! i was pretty uncertain about posting it because it’s not really like my other work, and I wasn’t sure if i was doing the flashbacks well. Thank you to my lovely betas @taetaesbaebaepsae​ @detectivebts​ @sweetnspicy93 and @moonmintrails​, @dreamystuffers​ for the banner and @kigurumu​ and @jkeuphoriadreamland​ for encouraging me to post it!! Without them the preview wouldn’t even have made it onto Tumblr.

“You look beautiful today, baby.” You were barely holding it together at this point, blinking hard to keep the tears from falling and ruining your makeup. In all fairness to you, your baby girl was getting married. Sunmi looked resplendent in her designer dress, and the entire ceremony was amazing. No expense had been spared – after all, it wasn’t every day that Kim Taehyung’s only daughter got married.

“Thank you, mom,” Sunmi said, squeezing your hand, her own eyes looking a little glossy.

“I’m so proud of you, sweetheart, and I love you so much.”

Your heartfelt moment with your daughter was interrupted by her father knocking and entering the door. Even after all these years, Taehyung was handsome and stately, and looking at him made your heart skip a beat. The graying of his hair didn’t detract from his attractiveness, giving him a distinguished air, and the crow’s feet had the same effect.

It was really too bad he was your ex-husband.

The thought made your expression tighten, although in the name of maintaining a cordial façade, you kept the smile on your face. “Taehyung,” you greeted coolly. “I’ll give you two some privacy,” you said, turning back to Sunmi and squeezing her shoulder. Normally, you’d have kissed her on the cheek but you didn’t want to mess up her makeup or yours.

“Y/n, please stay.” Taehyung tried to stop you, but you were insistent, stepping out of the room and shutting the door behind you. Leaning your back against the solid wood, you let out a gusty sigh, his words having brought back memories you’d really prefer to leave behind.

-----------------------------

“Y/n, please stay,” Taehyung begged, both hands grabbing yours as tears streamed down his face. You were equally determined to leave, though – the room, the country, the marriage you’d just witnessed imploding in front of your eyes.

Why, why had you thought that it would be a good idea to come surprise Taehyung on the last day of his tour? Your eyes met the gaze of the other woman in his hotel room over his head. She was perched on the bed, watching with rapt attention at what was happening, and you could just hear the thoughts going through her head.

So this is what Kim Taehyung’s fabled wife looks like, you could see it written all over her face. She’s nothing compared to me.

And she was right, you knew. She was in her early twenties, perfectly made up and coiffed, wearing a tight miniskirt you could have poured yourself into ten years ago but couldn’t anymore. In the teddy you’d bought specially for tonight, you knew she could see every tiny detail of your body, even the bits you didn’t really like, like the stretch marks visible under the sheer fabric of your belly and the thighs that weren’t as firm as they’d been when you first started dating Taehyung.

“Taehyung, let go.” They were the first words you’d said to him tonight, and they just made him cling to you harder as he sobbed. You gritted your teeth and pulled your hand back. If you didn’t get out of here soon, you would burst into tears right alongside him, and you didn’t want to show him that side of you. Not anymore.

Not after he’d betrayed your trust so completely with another woman.

He shook his head frantically. “No, please, please.” You could barely make out the words, he was crying so hard. Part of you wanted to drop to your knees next to him to comfort him, pull him into your arms and rock back and forth. You’d been together for twelve years, after all, and old habits die hard.

But another glance at the hookup he’d brought back to his hotel room made up your mind. He certainly hadn’t cared about your relationship or his vows tonight, finding another girl to warm his bed. Sure, your relationship hadn’t been great for a while, and you took full ownership of your part of the blame for the state of your marriage, but you’d wanted to work on it. You’d flown to the States tonight to make it up to him, show him that you still cared, that you loved him and wanted to put in the effort to make things right.

Instead, you’d found him blowing up your marriage.

“My lawyers will contact yours.” It was the last thing you said before making your escape, the tears falling down your face the moment the door swung shut after you.

-----------------------------

“I’m sorry, Dad,” Sunmi said, taking in the dejected slant of Taehyung’s shoulders. The two of you had divorced when she was seven, and she’d never gotten the full story, but you could barely stand to be in the same room as your ex-husband. You were civil when necessary, but you avoided him as much as possible. It was such a far cry from her memories of when you two were together, when you’d been so close and happy.

“No, it’s okay.” Taehyung waved it away, forcing a smile out even though Sunmi could see that it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Today is about you, my love.” Turning to her, he pushed thoughts of his troubled relationship with you out of his mind so that he could pay his daughter the attention she deserved.

Sunmi still watched her father with concern, though, knowing how he got around you. It was a melancholy he wasn’t able to shake until hours after the fact, and it didn’t seem like it had gotten easier for either of you in the twenty years since you’d split up. Sure, you were able to put up a nice front when you couldn’t avoid each other, like at her dance recitals and graduation, but it was clear that neither of you had gotten closure from the divorce.

“Daddy…” Sunmi started, but Taehyung cut her off before she could say anything more.

“You’re so beautiful today, love. You look just like your mother.” Leaning in, he pressed a light kiss to her forehead.

“Thank you, daddy,” Sunmi said, starting to sniffle a little.

-----------------------------

From the moment Sunmi had entered this world, Taehyung had known two things: that she was the spitting image of her mother, and that he was, from that moment, irrevocably wrapped around her little finger.

He’d laughed about it with you, too – how much he loved spoiling her, how hard a time he had telling her no. Taehyung was a devoted father, had been from the start. He’d taken a year off from performing and promoting when she was born so that he could stay in Korea with his new family, especially after the difficult birth you’d had.

You both agreed that you would wait a few years before having more children. Pregnancy and childbirth had been difficult for you, and you weren’t quite ready to go through it again, especially now that you had a young daughter to look after. Still, you were equally committed to having a large family, something you’d been talking about since before marriage.

It was a shock, therefore, to find out after a year of trying for your second child that apparently it would be almost impossible for you to conceive and carry another child to term. You were devastated and so was Taehyung, and, admittedly, neither of you had handled it in the best way.

You could barely stand to look at Taehyung for months after, the guilt of not being able to give him what he wanted and the weight of your own disappointment too much for you to bear. You focused all your attention instead on the daughter you already had in a bid to avoid your husband, and you’d be the first to admit that that hadn’t been the best way to deal with things. Not when Taehyung was grieving the loss of his dream too.

With his wife slipping, it seemed, further out of reach every day, Taehyung did the only thing it felt like he could do. He threw himself into his work, which was made easier by the fact that Jungkook was away serving in the military and Namjoon’s wife had just given birth to the couple’s first child.

By the time he left for that world tour, you were barely speaking to your husband and it felt like you were roommates and acquaintances more than husband and wife. He wanted to fix it, but he didn’t know how to, and you were stubbornly resistant to any attempts to reconcile. It was frustrating, to say the least – he wanted to be there for you, but he didn’t know how to help.

-----------------------------

Taehyung, seated at the table with his family and former band members, watched wistfully as you stood up to toast the happy couple. He didn’t think he’d seen you smile so happily since before the divorce, back when things had been good between the two of you.

“Sunmi and Michael,” you started. “I want to start by congratulating you both. Today has been a beautiful day, and the love you have for each other and for everyone here today is so evident.”

“I remember when Sunmi told me that she was dating Michael – she was only a freshman in college in a foreign country, and I was excited and supportive, but at the time, I had no idea that this relationship would go so far. You have overcome so many obstacles to be together, some of which I’ve witnessed, and many, I’m sure, that I haven’t. Nevertheless, I can see that what you two share is a deep, strong love, that will withstand the test of time.

“If I may, as a mother, offer some advice – although I might not be the best person to give relationship advice,” you added wryly, to chuckles from the crowd, “I know you have the basics covered. Be slow to anger and quick to forgive and remember that you’re a team. But,” you went on, your eyes flicking to Taehyung just for a second, “marriage is difficult, and it takes work. Trust that you’ve got each other’s backs, and communicate about everything, no matter how hard it seems at the time.”

Taehyung’s gaze softened, knowing that it was an implicit apology for your role in the breakdown of your marriage. He was the one who’d ultimately blown it up, something he’d accepted a long time ago, but neither of you had acted like model spouses.

“I believe with all my heart that this is a relationship that will go the distance, and it is my honour to make the first toast to the happy couple!” You concluded, raising your glass of champagne. Everyone in the room followed suit, and you smiled again at them before sitting down.

Jimin leaned over. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Taehyung replied quietly. He was better than okay. In fact, he felt lighter than he had in years.

-----------------------------

“Are you sure this is okay?” you asked for what must have been the hundredth time today. Taehyung couldn’t quite blame you – when you’d gotten married, you’d given up your dream of a family picnic along the Han River Park. There was no way in hell Kim Taehyung wouldn’t be recognized in a public place like that, so it wasn’t feasible at all.

It wasn’t like you were giving up a whole lot – he could afford to take your whole family to resorts, safaris, you name it. Still, the little girl in you that had so many precious memories at the Han River Park with your own family and friends wanted to recreate it with your own children.

Which was why he’d made this plan for your fifth anniversary. He’d called your assistant to let her know to cancel all your appointments today and booked out the entire park so you could finally have the family picnic you’d always dreamed of. It wouldn’t be exactly the same, of course. The rest of the park was basically deserted. But this was so much more than you’d expected, and you almost couldn’t believe that he’d managed to do this.

When you expressed this to your husband, he just smugly noted that you continued to underestimate him even after eight years of being together.

“Of course,” you noted drily. “You are the very epitome of extra.” Still, you leaned over Sunmi’s head to kiss him in a manner that suggested that you’d be doing a lot more if not for the child sitting between you.

“Mommy!” Sunmi cried shrilly, and you broke away from your husband to give your daughter the attention she demanded.

“Yes, baby?”

“I wanna ride the bicycle!” Sunmi told you, pointing out the car window at the bike rental shop.

“Okay, baby,” you agreed easily.

After the bicycle ride, you settled down for a picnic, letting Sunmi gorge herself on fried chicken and delivery food that she rarely got to indulge in because you were all about feeding her a nutritious, balanced diet.

By the time you left the park that evening, Sunmi was fast asleep in her daddy’s arms while you cleared your picnic area and walked next to Taehyung back to the car. The sunset painted the sky bright pink and orange, the fiery ball of the sun disappearing behind the bridge.

“Thank you for today, Tae,” you said, resting your hand on the small of his back as you stretched up to kiss him.

“It was my pleasure. Happy anniversary, my love.”

“Happy anniversary, Tae. I love you.”

-----------------------------

Watching from your table as the happy couple enjoyed their first dance together, you reached for your glass of wine. Being the mother of the bride was hard work, and you were taking the moment to appreciate that everything seemed to have gone off without a hitch. You had to give Taehyung credit where it was due – he’d always been a good father, and despite everything that had happened between you, he’d never let anything get in the way of his responsibilities as a dad. He’d truly spared no expense when it came to the wedding, and it showed.

After the first dance, the rest of the guests were invited to dance too, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You hadn’t brought a date to the wedding, not wanting to cause any drama with your ex-husband, his family and band members, and it seemed like he hadn’t either.

You didn’t make a habit of prying into his personal life – ever since the divorce, your interactions had been solely about Sunmi. You regretted it a little now, realizing that you’d lost your husband and best friend in one fell swoop, but back then, you’d been so hurt and angry, wanting to punish him as much as you’d needed the space to heal. In fact, this was the longest you’d been in the same room with him since the divorce proceedings.

-----------------------------

It was cold in the meeting room, and the air conditioning unit was incredibly loud, you noted mechanically. You looked around anxiously, picking at the skin around your nails – an awful habit that Taehyung had tried without avail for years to get you to quit. It was just you and your lawyer in here right now, since you’d come a little early to discuss the case with her, but you were expecting Taehyung to come in any moment now.

He didn’t want the divorce, you knew that. You could still hear his sobs ringing in your ears from the last time you’d met, when he chased you back to Korea and tried to apologize, explain, grovel.

When Taehyung and his lawyer came in, you stood up out of politeness, shaking hands with the lawyer.

“Taehyung,” you greeted tightly, your body wound tight. Your fight-or-flight instinct was already activated, and you were ready to throw down if necessary. Not that you really thought it’d be needed, but you really didn’t want him trying to cajole you out of this. Your mind was made up. How could your relationship continue if you couldn’t trust him anymore?

“Y/n,” he replied. You could hear the slight wobble in his voice, and for just a second, you felt bad. Despite everything that had happened, you still loved him, and some part of you didn’t want to hurt him. In fact, you had to fight the urge to round the table and pull him into a hug, like you’d used to when he was upset.

Swallowing hard, you took your seat instead, clasping your hands tightly together in your lap. You’d lost that right when you decided to end the marriage, you reminded yourself. It didn’t matter how much you wanted to comfort him. You couldn’t anymore, not when you were the cause of his pain. You’d never wanted to be that to him, but that was neither here nor there – you hadn’t wanted to catch your husband hooking up with another woman in a random hotel room either.

To your surprise, the division of assets went more smoothly than you’d expected. You’d heard horror stories of ridiculous fighting over every last penny and had steeled yourself for that. After all, despite your own professional success it was clear to everyone that the bulk of your combined income as a couple came from Taehyung. It wasn’t that you wanted to take him through the wringer or anything like that, but you didn’t want to be left out on the streets with Sunmi either.

There was no question that you would be awarded primary custody of your daughter – Taehyung’s job took him overseas for extended periods of time, even taking into account the fact that the group was slowing down now as the demands of real life grew.

The division of assets was challenging, but you ran into the opposite problem from what you had feared. Taehyung, once he’d accepted that this divorce was happening, seemed intent on heaping wealth on you. He tried to offer you the house – which you rejected, instead asking for an apartment that you jointly owned instead. The house would be difficult to maintain, you reasoned, which led to him offering to pay for all maintenance and even for cleaners. You also had to bargain the alimony payments down, to the surprise and amusement of your lawyers. You didn’t need any money from him, you maintained, though you did accept child support.

Still, because there was so little fighting between the two of you, it was over quickly, and the one meeting was enough to settle everything. The lawyers excused themselves, telling you that the final divorce agreement would be sent to you both to sign, and then you were alone.

“Y/n…” Taehyung’s voice was filled with anguish and sadness. “I’m sorry.”

“I know,” you acknowledged, swallowing back the tears.

“Do we have to do this? You know I’ll do whatever it takes for you to forgive me,” he pleaded. “I’ll quit the band, we can go for couples therapy… please, just don’t leave me.”

“Tae…” It was the last time you would call him that. “I can’t trust you anymore, you know that.”

“I understand.” It didn’t mean he liked it, though.

Reaching over, you squeezed his hand. You withdrew more slowly than was strictly necessary, but still too quickly for him, and he felt the loss of the warmth from your hand as if in slow motion, fighting back the almost desperate urge to cling to you and never let you leave him, because when you walked out the door, it would really be over.

But you didn’t want him anymore, and nothing he said could change your mind. He watched quietly as you left, taking in every detail of your departing figure before the closing door obstructed his vision, before he broke down in tears.

-----------------------------

With enough time and distance, you could admit that Taehyung was the love of your life. You’d had boyfriends before and after him, but no one had ever made you feel the way he had, like you were soaring above the ground, but unafraid because you knew he would be there to catch you.

Maybe that was why you’d fallen so hard, been hurt so badly. The betrayal coming from the person who’d sworn never to dishonor you had cut you open, and you’d never healed right.

Everyone at your table had gotten up to join the dance floor now, and you were sitting alone, watching.

Looking around, you signaled for a waiter to top up your glass of wine. Now that everything was pretty much done, you figured it wouldn’t hurt to get a little drunk – just to take the edge off the day you’d been having. As nice as the day had been and as proud as you were to watch your baby girl getting married… these events were difficult for you.

You kept remembering your own wedding day, when you’d been so incandescently happy to be marrying Taehyung. Back then, you too had thought you were entering a union that would last a lifetime. But your marriage had been unable to withstand the challenges that life had thrown at you, and all you’d been left with at the end was the broken shambles of a life to pick up and try to piece back together even though there was a giant hole in it.

You were frowning into your glass of wine when Taehyung came to sit next to you. “Hey,” he said quietly, and you turned your head to look at him.

“Hello,” you responded, your voice polite but cold, hoping he’d take the hint and leave you alone. You’d truly had enough, and you didn’t have the emotional strength today to sit and make small talk with Taehyung. Even after so many years, the wounds were still raw and painful.

If your ex-husband was anything, however, it was persistent. “It was a beautiful ceremony,” he pressed on.

“It was,” you agreed coolly. Your hands were resting on the table, and you moved them into your lap, fisting them in the fabric of your dress.

“It made me think of the day we got married.”

Before you knew it, you’d shot out of your seat, the visceral distress at hearing him say those words giving you a jolt of adrenaline. You had to get out of there. “Taehyung, please stop.”

“Y/n, please. You’ve basically ignored my existence for twenty years. I miss you. If you won’t give me anything else, at least let me talk to you tonight.”

When you opened your mouth to speak, your throat felt tight, and you knew you were going to cry. “I—I can’t,” you choked out, before bolting. You streaked out of the ballroom, your body on autopilot, the only thing on your mind getting out of there.

Taehyung watched as you ran from him, guilt stealing over his features. He’d never meant to cause you pain, now or then, but it seemed that was all he was able to do. All he’d been doing for a long time.

He looked around, wondering if anyone had noticed your disappearance and was going to go look for you, but it didn’t look like it – Sunmi and her husband were still wrapped up in each other, as they should be, and almost everyone else was either dancing or at the bar, already drunk.

Sighing, he got out of his seat. He was reluctant to chase you down since his insistence on speaking to you was what had upset you in the first place, but there was nobody else to do it. He just hoped that he would be able to hold it together to actually help you.

You might have let your body carry you wherever it wanted to go, but Taehyung walked with purpose. He had a pretty good idea of where you were, and his hunch was proven right when he saw you pacing by the pool. For some reason, you’d always had an affinity for pools.

“Y/n,” he called out, and you stopped your pacing to turn around.

“How did you find me so quickly?” you asked with a frown, and he shrugged.

“You haven’t changed much in twenty years.”

-----------------------------

Taehyung swallowed hard as he looked up at the house. For almost ten years now, this had been his home. But now as he approached, fishing his keys out of his backpack, he couldn’t help the trepidation that filled him, making his hands shake and his heart pound.

He didn’t know what to say to you, didn’t know how to fix this. With his heart sinking into his stomach, he admitted to himself for the first time that maybe this couldn’t be fixed.

God, he didn’t even know why he’d done that, gone out to get drunk and find some other girl to hook up with. He’d just been so lonely, and it had been so long since he’d had sex. Even before the tour, which had been nine months long, you two had been on such bad terms that you hadn’t slept together in months. It didn’t excuse his appalling lapse in judgement, though.

With a sigh, he opened the door and stepped into the house, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw all your shoes, still lined up neatly on the shelves. So, you hadn’t left, then.

Dropping his things on the floor, he made his way through the house. At the beginning of your relationship, he might have checked the bedroom or the couch – any of the usual places where someone might be moping – but now he knew better.

Just as he’d expected, you were sitting in a lounge chair by the pool out back, a bottle and a single wine glass on the side table next to you. You turned your head when you heard the sound of the door opening, though you didn’t bother greeting him. The pool area was dark, lit only by the moon and the light shining through the windows in the house.

As he drew closer, he saw that your face was stained with tears, but your eyes were dry.

“Y/n,” he greeted uncertainly, drawing closer.

“You’re here,” you observed, your voice impassive. No hello, no welcome home.

“I had to talk to you, to apologize. Please, Y/n, I—” In his desperation, his voice grew louder, and in response you drew back, folding your arms across your chest and pulling your legs in, turning your face away from his stubbornly.

“I think everything there is to be said has been said.”

“No, Y/n, please, it was a mistake, I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you.” Taehyung sat at the edge of the lounge chair, and your shoulders hunched over more tightly, betraying your discomfort.

“Well, you did. Please leave,” you requested.

“Y/n, please, talk to me,” he begged, reaching out to put his hand on your knee, before thinking better of it and pulling back. His fists clenched in his lap.

“I said everything I had to say last night. I don’t want to see you right now.” Your voice was tightly controlled. You didn’t want him to see you falling apart. He didn’t get to know how heartbroken you were, how he’d destroyed you.

“Divorce?! Y/n, please. I made a mistake and I know it was bad, but we can get through this, can’t we? We can figure it out. I’ll do anything, I swear.” His voice trembled helplessly, and he felt cold all over. It felt like he was falling to pieces in front of you, and you wouldn’t help. “I’ll work to earn your forgiveness, I swear.” You could hear the earnestness in his voice and knew that he was telling the truth. If Taehyung was anything, it was a hard worker, and you knew he would dedicate himself to this task like he’d never done before.

But it wasn’t enough. “I can’t. I can’t get past this, Taehyung.” With those words, you got up and walked away from him again, leaving him in the dark. By the time he managed to marshal the strength to move his body, you were gone from the house. He didn’t see you again until the division of assets.

-----------------------------

“Taehyung…” Your voice trailed off, your shoulders hunching around your ears uncomfortably. You knew you were both recalling that night, when he’d begged you to forgive him, or at least give him a chance to earn your forgiveness, and you’d rejected him flatly.

“I’m sorry, Y/n.” His next words surprised you somewhat. You’d been expecting him to continue with your earlier topic of conversation. This, though, wasn’t necessarily better. The words echoed in your head and turned into his desperate, sobbed apologies of twenty years ago. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

You inclined your head in a stiff nod, grudgingly accepting his apology and hoping he would leave you to your thoughts. Why did he still do this to you? He’d been your ex-husband now for longer than you’d been together, and yet you remained so easily affected by him.

Damn Kim Taehyung, you thought suddenly, viciously. He’d sunk his claws into you thirty-two years ago and had never let you go. With the sudden flash of anger and resentment fueling you, you bit out, “You never do.”

Right in front of your eyes, Taehyung seemed to deflate. His shoulders slumped and he put his hands in his pocket, head bowed. “I’m sorry,” he whispered again. When you made your speech earlier, he’d genuinely thought that you were extending an olive branch to him. It was why he’d tried again to talk to you. It seemed like, not for the first time, he was wrong. “I’ll leave you alone, then.”

With that, he turned and started to walk away. Cursing your inability to let him go, you called out to him. “Wait, Taehyung.”

He spun around so quickly you felt a little dizzy on his behalf. “What is it?” he asked earnestly, his eyes wide.

“That was mean of me to say, and it was uncalled for. I’m sorry.”

He shrugged awkwardly, scuffing his shoe on the floor. “Don’t be. I understand that you still hate me. I would too.”

Since it seemed like tonight was a night for spilling secrets, yours tumbled out of your mouth thoughtlessly. “I don’t hate you. I couldn’t.”

His reaction was so dramatic it was almost comical. His eyes widened, his jaw dropped, and he took a half-step towards you before stopping short, not sure what to do with that information. “But—but you…”

Cringing as awareness of what you’d told him filtered back into your brain, you turned away, trying to hide your embarrassment.

“Y/n, talk to me, please,” he pleaded. “I just want to understand.” You could hear from his voice and footsteps that he was approaching you, and he stopped just a few paces away, wanting to be closer but trying not to overcrowd you.

“Stop it, Tae,” you said, the old nickname slipping out in your distraction. It didn’t even register with you as you grappled with your emotions, trying to rein them in, but he had to moderate his voice to stop the joy from coming through.

“If you tell me to go I will, Y/n, but I’m just curious. I’ve spent the past twenty years thinking you hated me for what I did. I mean, you’ve barely been able to look at me for all this time.”

“Taehyung…” You turned back to him, then noted the intensity of his gaze with some surprise. It compelled you to speak, like it always had. “I never hated you. I couldn’t. I can’t.”

“Then… then why?” His voice broke on the last word, his voice filled with hurt and confusion.

You gave him a small shrug. “I couldn’t trust you anymore.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You don’t understand why I didn’t think you were trustworthy after finding you about to hook up with a girl while you were on tour?” You rolled your eyes derisively. “It’s not rocket science, Tae. Was that even the first time?”

“What—Yes!” he yelled. “I swear to God, Y/n. It was a mistake. A shitty, terrible mistake, and one that I apologized for a million times. But you wouldn’t even listen to me, and I thought it was because you hated me, but now… we could have worked this out, couldn’t we?” The raw longing in his voice made you look away from him, because your eyes were filling with tears.

“Stop it,” you choked. “This is ancient history. There’s no point in bringing it up.”

“Y/n, it may be ‘ancient history’ to you, but there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about it. I love you, and I never stopped, even though everything went so wrong. I know you don’t have to do this. You can walk away right now, and I won’t chase you, I swear. But if you don’t mind, I really, really want to know what was going through your mind then.”

You bit your lip, your face still turned away from him, as you thought about it. For twenty years you’d hidden your tears from him, but if you decided to accede to his request, that ended tonight. Were you strong enough?

“Love… isn’t enough for a relationship, Tae. How was I supposed to trust you after what I saw?” You picked at an imaginary loose thread on your dress.

“Love? You still loved me after that?” Incredulity coloured his voice. You didn’t blame him – you hadn’t exactly shown it, instead pushing him away relentlessly.

“Taehyung…” Your voice caught. You’d always known, intellectually, that you’d hurt him, but seeing his anguish written all over his face made it real. “You’re the love of my life. I could never stop loving you.”

“Y/n…” Taehyung felt like his soul had left his body. Moving completely on autopilot, he took a step forward, then another, until he was standing right in front of you, one hand on your waist. “Please,” he whispered, his other hand cupping your cheek, before leaning down to kiss you.

You wanted to push him away and run off, screaming, but instead your eyes fluttered shut as he brushed his lips against yours gently, your hands reaching out to grasp his shirt. “Tae,” you said, your voice basically a wisp of air, when he pulled back.

“Thank you,” he rasped, starting to step back. As pathetic as it sounded, that tiny, chaste kiss was enough to last him the rest of his life.

It wasn’t enough for you, though. You’d forgotten – forced yourself to forget – what it felt like to have him pressed against you, towering over you, worshipping you with every caress. All of that had been tainted when you saw him with that other nameless girl, but having him here with you now, twenty years later, you felt the first inklings of doubt. After so much time and everything that had happened, he was still here with you, begging you to talk to him. It was clear that he loved you and you certainly felt the same way about him, and for the first time, you asked yourself – could love be enough?

When he made to move away, you tightened your fingers in the fabric of his shirt, holding him close. Taehyung looked down at you with surprise. “Y/n… what is it?” he asked.

Instead of answering him in words, you pulled him flush to your body and kissed him again, releasing his shirt in favour of winding your arms around his neck as his body collided into yours. Unlike the last one, this wasn’t a gentle, chaste peck. Your kiss was filled with all the longing and passion of the past twenty years, and Taehyung couldn’t help but react, his hands gripping your waist as he deepened the kiss hungrily.

You moaned into the kiss, a high-pitched, needy sound, as your arms tightened around his neck, pulling him yet closer to you. Hearing it, Taehyung tightened his grip on your waist, shuddering as he rolled his hips helplessly against you.

Breaking away from the kiss, Taehyung rested his forehead against yours, your breath mingling with his in the small space between your faces. “Y/n,” he panted.

“Tae,” you whined, your arms dropping to your sides as you hooked your fingers in his belt loops. “I missed you so much.”

He swore under his breath. This seemed like the reconciliation he’d dreamed of for so many years, but something was off. He’d always been able to tell with you, and he knew he didn’t have the whole story yet. It would be irresponsible and selfish for him to pursue this while you were clearly still in a fragile state, and as much as some dark part of him wanted to, he couldn’t do that to you.

So he took a step back and sucked in a deep breath to regain his composure – then almost lost it promptly when he saw you staring at him with that dark, intense gaze that haunted his dreams. “Stop looking at me like that,” he grumbled, ducking his head to hide his flush. “I’m trying to be good.”

“Could have tried that twenty years ago,” you muttered, but Taehyung, being so close to you, heard. The words cut through the haze in his mind like a knife and he dropped his arms to his sides immediately, turning away from you to hide how much your words had hurt him. He knew he deserved it, but the pain of hearing how much you hated him, dashing the new, timid hope growing in his chest like grass in the spring… it devastated him.

“Y/n… I’m sorry,” he choked, his hands balling into fists. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry for doing that, and for hurting you, and if there was one thing in my life I could take back, it would be that. I’ve apologized a million times over; I’ve offered to leave you alone tonight. You were the one who initiated that kiss. I just—I don’t know what you want from me.

“I can’t do this anymore. I love you so much, and even though you say you love me, you’ll never forgive me. It just… it hurts so much, knowing that nothing I say or do will ever be enough to make it better.”

His words tore through you, shredding your anger and resentment like tissue. Your hurt may be old, but his… it was fresh, and every time you rejected his company or made a snide remark, it was like rubbing salt in his wounds. You knew he was sorry, that he regretted it, and sometimes even you wondered why that wasn’t enough for you.

Darting forward, you grasped his large fist, cupping it between your hands. “Taehyung, I’m sorry.” Your words were sincere and heartfelt, and you gripped his hand tightly, like you were afraid he would leave – and why wouldn’t he? He’d made you feel like you weren’t enough once, and you’d walked away from him. Really, how could you blame him for doing the same thing?

“I know I wasn’t a perfect wife.” It was the first time you’d ever admitted it out loud. “It doesn’t excuse what you did, but learning that I couldn’t have more children was heartbreaking for me.”

Taehyung stopped short. You’d never acknowledged this before. Without thinking about it, he uncurled his fingers to hold your hand, giving you what support he could as the confession spilled from your lips.

“I know you wanted children, a big family. Finding out that I couldn’t give you that…” Your voice broke, and Taehyung reacted, turning to draw you into his arms. You nestled in his embrace like you’d never left, your body fitting perfectly against his.

“I felt like I wasn’t enough.” You’d been carrying this secret hurt inside you for so long, and to say it out loud gave you a sense of relief, as if a crushing weight had been lifted from your chest.

“Y/n…” Taehyung’s voice was thick with emotion. He wanted to tell you that you were wrong, that you’d always been enough for him, but he couldn’t find the words.

“And seeing you with her… it just made it so much worse.” You were sobbing now, your fists clenched as you cried into his shirtfront, reliving the anguish you’d felt at believing yourself inadequate, how much you’d hated him even as you loved him like you’d never loved anyone before or since. How could someone you’d let into the deepest recesses of your soul use that power to hurt you so badly, you’d wondered. That night had been a confirmation of every secret fear you’d let fester for a year, and you’d run from the hurt as fast and as far as you could.

As much as he wanted to sink to his knees, Taehyung forced himself to remain standing, so you could lean on him. It was the one thing he could offer you, and even though it was laughably insufficient to fend off the wave of guilt that crashed over him, he forced himself to, tucking your head under his chin and gathering you up like he could shield you from the pain.

“Y/n… you’ve always been enough for me. Only you could be enough for me. And I’m sorry.” His voice broke on the last word. For the first time, words couldn’t capture the depth of his remorse, how fucking bad he felt. He would gladly tear out his heart and present it to you if it made you feel just a tiny bit better. It had always been yours, anyway.

Even though Taehyung had apologized to you countless times before, this was the first time you truly believed it, and the sorrow and remorse in his voice filtered through the haze of hurt and anger that you’d been living under for decades. He held onto you like you’d evaporate if he let you step out of his arms, like he was going to hug you for the next twenty years, for all the time he had missed.

You stayed like that for five minutes, just soaking in each other’s presence and comfort, but eventually common sense began coming back to you. “Taehyung,” you sniffled, wriggling slightly in his grasp.

“Just a little longer, please,” he begged, the words whispered into your hair.

“Taehyung, we can’t stay out here.”

He whined, sounding incredibly childlike and not at all like the distinguished middle-aged man he was. “I don’t want this to end,” he pouted.

“Tae—”

He cut you off by squeezing you so tightly you squeaked as the air left your lungs. Rolling your eyes fondly – some things never changed, it seemed – you squirmed determinedly until he had no choice but to let you go, and he stared at you with a bereft gaze.

“Come on, you drama queen,” you said, holding your hand out to him. He perked up visibly and put his hand in yours, not even questioning where you were taking him.

Taking him to your hotel room felt familiar, but new and exciting at the same time. It brought to your mind memories of sneaking around back when you’d first started dating, when he would come over to your apartment in the middle of the night, and you’d smuggle him in, giggling the whole time.

It wasn’t like you were necessarily doing anything wrong – both of you were single, adults, and this time, there weren’t any pesky contractual obligations to keep all relationships out of the public eye. Catching the divorced parents of the bride sneaking off together might raise a couple of eyebrows, though.

Taehyung wound his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder to watch as you fiddled with the key card. Now that you were back in his arms, he found himself basically unable to give it up, hungrily soaking in all the physical contact he’d dreamt of for so long. When you managed to get the door open and stepped through, he refused to let go, instead doing a strange crab-walk while still clinging to you.

“Tae,” you giggled, your hands resting on his arms. “You need to let go.”

“Never,” he insisted, burying his face in your neck. “Not letting you go again,” he said, his voice muffled.

“Tae…” your voice trailed off as you focused on taking off your shoes, which was made more difficult by the new limpet you’d acquired. Now a few inches shorter, you turned in his embrace and tilted your head up to brush your nose against his. The cute gesture was somewhat undermined by the way he immediately claimed your lips in a torrid kiss, his large hand splayed across the back of your head, and you knew that if not for the updo your hair was currently welded into, he would already be tugging on it.

“I missed you so much,” he groaned, his hand sliding from your head to the top of the zipper on the back of your dress. Instead of sliding it down, though, he paused, fiddling nervously with the tab.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, opening your eyes as you pulled back slightly.

“Are you sure you want this?”

You took a step back, out of his grasp, so you could get a better look at him. “Are you?”

Taehyung hesitated. He didn’t know why he felt so nervous about this. It was what he’d wanted for years, right?

“Tae…” As always, you could read him perfectly, and you held out your hand to him. “Come talk to me. What’s bothering you?” You led him to the couch, sitting down on the mattress facing him. He refused to let go of your hand, and you had to lean forward awkwardly.

“You won’t leave again, right?” he asked anxiously, and your brows shot up in surprise. His gaze continued darting around the room, refusing to settle on you, and you got up, closing the distance between you as you sat sideways on his lap.

“Tae, what are you talking about?” you asked, your fingers winding into the short hairs at the nape of his neck and stroking softly, the way you remembered he liked.

His lip wobbled, and you wanted to kiss it better. “I don’t want you to leave me again,” he confessed.

“Tae… this is my room. I’m not going anywhere,” you pointed out, and the slightly exasperated side-eye he gave you had you biting your lip to stifle a smirk. Becoming serious now, you added, “I promise I won’t disappear, okay? We can take things slow, and see where it goes,” before you pulled him close and gave him a sweet kiss on the cheek.

This wasn’t exactly what Taehyung wanted, but he supposed it was reasonable. Acquiescing, he turned to kiss you properly, allowing it to grow heated. You moved to straddle him, but the long dress made it difficult, and you hiked it up around your hips impatiently. Taehyung ran his tongue along your bottom lip and you moaned, heat pooling in your lower belly.

The sound spurred Taehyung to drag you closer to him, his hands kneading the flesh around your hips hungrily. You felt a flash of self-consciousness – the last time he’d seen you naked was decades ago, and your body had definitely changed since then, and not for the better. The greedy way he felt you up with the same hunger as he had back in your twenties when everything was new and exciting, though, banished the insecurities from your mind quickly.

Still kissing him, you ran your hands up his chest, delighting in how firm and solid he still was, before tugging his tie loose and dropping it carelessly somewhere. You attacked the buttons on his shirt impatiently, almost too excited to work them properly. Taehyung wasn’t faring any better, having roughly pulled your zipper all the way down – you gave a silent prayer for the nice zipper on the expensive dress, because if it had gotten caught, he would probably have ripped the whole thing.

You let go of him just long enough to allow him to push the dress off your shoulders so it pooled around your waist, and shivered as he put his hands on your bare skin, running them up your back to pop open the clasp of your bra.

“Tae,” you whined, tugging on his shirt, and he chuckled as he moved to help you with the rest of the buttons while you shrugged the straps of your bra off, tossing it behind you somewhere. His undershirt went the same way, and you moaned when his bare chest made contact with yours, kissing him frantically as you squirmed on top of him.

Taehyung wasn’t unaffected – you could feel his hard-on pressing against your thigh as he fondled your breast, rubbing his thumb against your pebbled nipple. “Fuck, Y/n,” he groaned in that deep, raspy baritone that you’d missed so much, his hands dropping to your thighs as he held you against him, standing up and depositing you on the bed. You gasped in surprise – you’d always enjoyed being manhandled by him, and were impressed that he was still able to lift you up so easily.

Instead of joining you immediately, he yanked your dress all the way off, letting it pool on the floor, before reaching for his belt. He wasn’t able to get it off before you hooked your fingers in his belt loops and yanked him towards you impatiently, causing him to lose his balance and fall on you. “Y/n,” he grumbled, though there was laughter in his voice. He pushed himself up on his hands, looking down at you, and you undid his belt with far greater dexterity than you’d handled his shirt buttons.

Pulling the leather through the loops – and shivering at the whistling sound the belt made, a familiar one from your more adventurous romps from days past – you dropped it beside you before working on his trousers.

“Someone’s impatient,” Taehyung teased, and you scoffed at him.

“You’re one to talk,” you retorted, and he didn’t respond immediately, but that might have been because you plunged your hand into his underwear to grasp his hard cock. Taehyung had always been big, and you clenched on yourself as you remembered what it had felt like to have him stretching you open. God, how you’d missed him, pined for him on those long, lonely nights.

You pumped his cock slowly, running your thumb across the head to collect the pre-cum already beading there and listening to him growl and pant above you, long fingers diving into your panties to stroke you eagerly as his lips returned to yours. He found you wet and sticky already, dipping his fingers in the orifice before returning to circle your clit with all the expertise you’d come to expect after almost a decade of marriage. Some things were embedded in your muscle memory and being with each other felt like that.

Because you knew it would drive him wild, you released his erection, causing him to pull away to look down at you questioningly. With a smirk, you raised your hand to your mouth, dragging the pad of your thumb across your tongue. “Hmm,” you cooed, your eyes fluttering shut. “You taste just as good as I remember.”

“Fuck.” The expletive punched out of Taehyung with the last of the oxygen in his lungs, leaving him breathless. You were so flawless, perfect for him in every way, and he couldn’t wait anymore. He pulled your panties off so hard that they ripped before pushing his own boxers down just far enough to release his painful erection. The head was flushed bright red, the veins standing out along the length, and your mouth watered, but that wasn’t what he was going for right now.

As he pushed your thighs apart with his own, one hand snaked around his cock, stroking it a few times to take the edge off. You both watched, enthralled, as he slid the head of his erection along your slit, gathering up the wetness, before pressing into you. The stretch was immediate, tears springing to your eyes as you tensed up in response.

“Fuck, Y/n, you’re so tight,” Taehyung gritted, leaning down to kiss you. His tongue slid against yours filthily, making you moan, as his fingers reached between you to rub your clit. “I missed you, I love you, I love you,” he groaned as he sank into you, your heels pressing against the small of his back and egging him on. You’d half expected him to pound you into tomorrow after the urgency of the foreplay, but he seemed content to take it slow, kissing you and caressing your side as he thrust almost lazily. He buried his face in your neck and you stroked his hair as your breath caught on the pleasure.

“Taehyung,” you breathed, your voice hitching as he brushed against your g-spot. Of course he remembered exactly where it was, you thought fondly. “I love you so much,” you confessed, the words hanging in the air. He didn’t respond to you, continuing the smooth motions of his hips, and you wondered if he was even listening to you, but then you heard it.

A sob, muffled against your neck. The sound made you panic, and you pushed at his shoulders so that you could look at him. He resisted a little, but you kept stroking your hands down his sides to reassure him. “Tae, are you okay? Is this okay?”

Finally, he lifted himself off you, but immediately went in for another kiss, this time tender and sweet, his lips moving gently against yours. “Say that again?” he requested, and you could see the tears shining in his eyes.

“Tae, I love you,” you moaned as he drove into you harder, gripping your thigh as he angled himself to hit your g-spot again. He was rushing for the finishing line now, you could tell, as he reached back down to thumb at your clit with unerring precision. Your confession had done it for him, but he would not cum before you. It had to be perfect, the best beginning to your future together.

“Again,” he breathed, needing to hear the words from you once more, and you acquiesced, repeating it with each thrust, until the pleasure grew too great and you just gasped and moaned instead, spelling your love for him out in the scratches on his back and the way your heels drummed against him, begging him to get closer, deeper inside of you, to never leave.

“Tae—fuck,” you cried out as you crested, clenching hard on his cock in you as your arms and legs tightened around him. In that instant, as close as he was to you, you needed more, tears springing to your eyes at the feeling of his hands and mouth on you after so long, gentle but sure, reverent yet debased.

Feeling you orgasm around him was too much for his already faltering restraint, and with a final thrust, he came, shuddering in your arms as he shot ropes of cum deep inside you.

In the aftermath, Taehyung sank down on you, and though you knew you wouldn’t be able to stay like this forever, you welcomed his weight pressing you into the bed. He almost surrounded you, his warmth comforting, and you stroked his back as he caught his breath.

A moment later, he lifted himself off you, seeking another kiss which you happily gave him. He tucked an errant strand of hair that had stuck itself to your sweaty cheek behind your ear, and you smiled up at him, eyes shining. As amazing as the sex was, Taehyung had always shown the extent of his love for you through those tender, soft touches that came like second nature to him.

“I love you,” he told you again, emotion shimmering in his eyes. You were tempted to be cheeky and say I know, because he’d told you so many times tonight, but you could sense the vulnerability radiating off him and knew this wasn’t the right moment for your sass.

“I love you too,” you told him instead, reaching up to cup his face and brushing your thumb against his cheekbone to wipe the tear that escaped. There was so much more you had to talk about – establishing boundaries and rules for this new old relationship, clearing the air between you. Hell, after twenty years apart, who knew if you were still compatible with each other?

However, you pushed all those thoughts away as you hugged Taehyung’s sweaty, exhausted body closer to you. Just for tonight, you promised yourself, you would let love be enough.

[dreamings-free]

How Harry Styles Became A Modern Style Icon

by Phoe­be Luck­hurst - Evening Standard 15/11/19

A man wrought in the fires of teenage boy­band hy­per-stardom is not afraid of a lit­tle commotion. Still when Harry Styles — the One Di­rec­tion mat­inée idol turned lan­guid Gen Z icon — tweeted, at 1.01 pm GMT on Wed­nes­day af­ter­noon, that he would be tak­ing his up­com­ing album Fine Line on tour, you could, if at­tuned to the cor­rect de­mo­graphic fre­quency, hear the howl echo around the in­ter­net: gut­tural, hun­gry, ul­u­lat­ing. This was a pseudo-re­li­gious experience: one vi­ral meme de­picted the Pope hold­ing a copy of his al­bum aloft. The announce­ment has been retweeted al­most 70,000 times.

The 25-year old is a tour vet­eran — he spent five years and five al­bums strapped to the thunder­ing 1D jug­ger­naut — but this new tour is his first as a bona fide solo brand. The al­bum, his first in two years, is synth-soaked and soul­ful, the al­bum’s aes­thetic fever­-dreamy. Granted, he’s not the first per­son to go to So­Cal, try a few magic mush­rooms and de­clare him­self radically trans­formed, but the re­sults are be­guil­ing — and cer­tainly a world away from his years as a Simon Cow­ell Ken doll. Since his last record, he has co- hosted t he Met Gala and been reborn as an Alessan­dro Michele muse. This is your Styles crib sheet.

Melody maker

Styles’s new al­bum — writ­ten un­der a tie-dye mist af­ter tak­ing the afore­men­tioned psychedelics, which also re­sulted in a mishap in which he bit off the tip of his tongue — is “all about hav­ing sex and feel­ing sad”, which, granted, as a topline, does not wildly dif­fer­en­ti­ate the record from the genre of “al l other mu­sic ever”. Still, the early signs for Fine Line are encouraging. Its first sin­gle, Lights Up—which has been streamed al­most 100 mil­lion times on Spo­tify —is­ synth-y, soul­ful, un­der­stat­edly an­themic, very dif­fer­ent to, and bet­ter than, the lead sin­gle on his last solo record, the Seven­ties, soft-rock Sign of the Times( it still, of course, hit No 1), and very, very dif­fer­ent from any­thing he did with 1D. Many thou­sands of words have been writ­ten about whether there is a bi­sex­ual sub­text to Lights Up. It has been noted that the song was re­leased on Na­tional Com­ing Out Day, that Styles’s sex­u­al­ity has been sub­ject to fren­zied specu­la­tion be­fore, the video fea­tures an oiled-up, top­less Styles gy­rat­ing around men and women, and that the lyrics (“Shine, I’m not ever go­ing back/ Shine, step into the light”) could be in­ter­preted as a mean­ing­ful rev­e­la­tion of sorts. Cer­tainly, he has be­come a queer icon — especially with Gen Z — who are thrilled by his se­lec­tion of gen­derqueer singer-song­writer King Princess as his sup­port act for the Euro­pean part of his tour. Speak­ing of col­lab­o­ra­tors, Styles worked on the al­bum with pro­duc­ers Tyler John­son, who has worked with Tay­lor Swift, Mi­ley Cyrus and Ed Sheeran, and Jeff Bhasker, who has collabo­rated wit h Mark Ron­son and Kanye West, and his friend, Tom Hull, aka Kid Har­poon, who co-wrote Shake It Out for Florence + The Ma­chine. He has also been granted a fairy god­mother: Ste­vie Nicks, who called him her “lit­tle muse” at Fleetwood Mac’s hyped Wembley head­line gig i n J une. “S he’s a l ways there for you,” Styles has said in the past. “She knows what you need: ad­vice, a lit­tle wis­dom, a blouse, a shawl.” Sure.

Got Styles

Any young man raised in the white heat of a boy­band spot­light must be granted the space to find his fash­ion path; Styles has done so with no mis­steps and ex­u­ber­ant plea­sure. Once upon a time, he would sem­a­phore his in­di­vid­u­al­ity with a ban­dana; now, he turns up to a cover interview with Rolling Stone in a white floppy hat, blue denim bell-bot­toms and Gucci shades, his nails coloured pink and green. His favourite trousers, un­til he lost them on the beach, were a pair of mus­tard cor­duroy flares; this week, he wore a Lan­vin sweater vest with a sheep de­sign that sent a co­terie of Lon­don menswear stylists into throes of ec­stasy. He wears flo­ral suits and Cuban heels, ruf­fled, New Ro­man­tic shirts, Charles Jef­frey jump­suits and pussy- bow blouses. It is flam­boy­ant, self-con­sciously Bowie/Jag­ger, and in Gen Z par­lance, “very ex­tra”. His stylist Harry Lam­bert is par­tial to an ex­trav­a­gant col­lar, dra­matic neck­line and a vo­lu­mi­nous trouser.

Be­sides Lam­bert, an­other part of this evo­lu­tion has been his re­la­tion­ship with Gucci’s cre­ative di­rec­tor Michele, who has turned the Ital­ian her­itage brand into the ul­ti­mate post-gen­der lux­ury fash­ion la­bel, the first to merge their menswear and wom­enswear, and dis­patch male mod­els down the cat­walk in dresses and women in suits. A good look for a Gen Z idol.

With the brand

Notably, the brand­ing on this al­bum and its tour art­work is con­sis­tent with this new look Styles. The al­bum cover fea­tures Styles i n white cus­tom- made Gucci bell bot­toms and a Pep­to Bismol-pink shirt, open al­most to the waist, shot by mod-goth Tim Walker with a fish­eye lens (it is Walker’s hand in that S&M glove you can see in the left-hand cor­ner). In the dreamy video for Lights Up he wears a glit­tery suit and sus­penders, in a sort of hal­lu­ci­na­tory ver­sion of Satur­day Night Fever. Into it.

Stand up

Then there’s his voice — not the mu­sic, but the ac­tivism. Even as one-fifth of a boy­band manufac­tured by Cow­ell’s al­go­rithm, he was quick, quippy and itch­ing to go off-mes­sage; but now that he con­trols his own, he is am­pli­fy­ing causes such as Black Lives Mat­ter and End Gun Violence. He wore stick­ers for both on his gui­tar on his last tour, which might sound small, except that photographs of Styles gal­lop around the dig­i­tal world at hy­per­speed. At con­certs, he has waved pride, bi and trans flags, and a Black Lives Mat­ter flag. He once bor­rowed a flag from an au­di­ence mem­ber at a show in Philadel­phia that read, “Make Amer­ica Gay Again”. At a show on his last tour, he de­clared: “If you are black, if you are white, if you are gay, if you are straight, if you are trans­gen­der — who­ever you are, who­ever you want to be, I sup­port you.”

A vo­cal, en­gaged fan­dom of teenage girls minted his mul­ti­mil­lion-pound for­tune; he is loyal and ad­mir­ing of their zeal. “They’re the most hon­est — es­pe­cially if you’re talk­ing about teenage girls, but older as well,” he told Rolling Stone this sum­mer. “They have that bull­shit de­tec­tor. We’re so past that dumb out­dated nar­ra­tive of ‘Oh, these peo­ple are girls, so they don’t know what they’re talk­ing about.’ They’re the ones who know what they’re talk­ing about. They’re the peo­ple who lis­ten ob­ses­sively. They f***ing own this shit. They’re run­ning it.” Ob­vi­ously, he’s a fem­i­nist. “Of course men and women should be equal. I don’t want credit for be­ing a fem­i­nist. I think the ideals of fem­i­nism are pretty straight­for­ward.” An icon is born.

[cass-chan12]

Obligations and Objections

Fandom: Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Cat Noir  Rated: K+ Genre: Romance/Drama Pairing: Marinette/Ladybug and Adrien/Cat Noir 

Summary:Thinking about being alone as the New Guardian was all too stressful for Marinette and along with her confusing emotions she feels it would be best to change some rules. (Post Miracle Queen) 

///

It all had felt so heavy to live all of the sudden.

The weight Marinette had over the past year as ladybug already made her feel uneasy with responsibility and before she knew it the responsibility multiplied tenfold. She was the new guardian after all.

She had broken down multiple times that day when it all began.

It was only a matter of time when she would crash. She let Adrien go, Chat let her go and Master Fu left altogether. Seeing the older man board the train with no memories and telling her that he would never forget her was all too much for her heart.

Sitting next to the soft sound of a guitar tune was the only thing Marinette could relax to. Luka had really helped her more than he could ever have imagined. For one moment right there and then she felt like she didn’t have to be Paris’ hero or someone’s third party in a romantic setting where she wasn’t supposed to be in from the start, nor did she feel obligated to think of the future where she and Chat will be up against Hawkmoth and Mayura.

Later that evening she stood on her balcony looking over the river, seeing Notre Dame in the distance and let Tikki rest on her shoulder as she usually did.

Marinette breathed in sombrely which Tikki no doubt noticed.

“Do you wanna talk about all that happened?” the little Kwami’s sweet voice asked in the dead silence.

Tikki noticed tears pricking out of her holders eyes “Not really but I should. You are the only one I can talk to about my whole life so I shouldn’t keep it bottled up like before.”

TIkki nudged closer on her shoulder to show her holder that her attention was solely on her.

“I had my doubts about being Ladybug since the beginning and I had come to terms after Stoneheart that I will try my best to protect everyone. Since I was chosen I had this cosy feeling that all my decisions were the right ones but I’ve had plenty of mistakes. I human in the end. But today… I…” a sob broke out of her lips.

“I resent Master for picking me as the new guardian. I know it was coming and the small ugly thought I had was that the time wouldn’t come. Now my biggest fear is here and I don’t feel ready or strong enough to pull it through.”

She felt like her own words were putrid and vile for even letting them come out. How could she feel that way about the man who sacrificed so much for the safe keeping of the Miraculous? He was human as well, she did acknowledge that but this was all too much for her fourteen year old mind and body.

Tikki zipped in front of her face and softly patted the tears away.

“I’m not sure whether or not you will believe me but you are so much capable then you lead on to be Marinette.” she reassured

“And I feel the same as you do, trust me. I want you to enjoy being young and not feel like the whole world is coming to an end. I, though, do want you to know that you are the most amazing holder I’ve ever had. You are kind, creative, and clever and everyone knows and sees it.”

Marinette smiled at her Kwami and raised her palms in front of her for the little creature to land in.

“I just want you to know one thing Marinette.” The Kwami looked at her with some mischief.

Marinette cocked an eyebrow “And what’s that?”

“With every new Guardian, they make or break rules for what you feel is right.”

Oh?

Oh…

///

Anxiety can always have more than one face.

In this case, Marinette’s other form is Adrien Agreste and Kagami Tsurugi.

Although the two weren’t officially dating, it was clear how the two felt about the other. They both shared a lot in common, their parents were most likely on bored for their growing ‘friendship’ and as much as Marinette hated to admit it, they seemed perfect for each other.

She admits she can’t fully let go of her affections of Adrien but she maybe would prioritize her relationship with herself. Maybe in time she can look Luka as more than just a friend? Or even see Chat in a different light?

‘That’s not a smart idea, Marinette.” She scolded herself.

Even if she and Chat did pursue something, it would be dangerous. Hawkmoth already has them on the ropes and if he were to know that she and he were involved, the villain would take advantage of it.

No, Luka was the safer route.

‘So much for thinking about prioritising your relationship with yourself…’ she thought sarcastically to herself.

After school Marinette passed the fencing practice ground and noticed Adrien and Kagami. The Japanese girl certainly was a cool beauty, it was only logical Adrien would have noticed her.

She smiled sadly and kept on walking until she heard a snap noise. Startled, she found half of her hair in her face and looked down to have found her hair band had snapped.

‘Perfect’ she scoffed as she picked it up.

With only one hair band now, she didn’t particularly want one ponytail. A certain blonde ruined the look for her. So she just undid the other and decided to have her hair down.

“You really should wear it down more often.” A familiar voice told her out of the blue.

She jumped at the suddenness and gazed to see if was Adrien who was holding a bottle of water, most likely on a break. He smiled at her in the friendliest way as he had always done.

“Sorry to startle you, just wanted to say hi.”

The pit in her stomach felt unbearable “Hi…” she said trying to make it sound like she was joking.

The blonde was taken back by that “Is everything okay?”

She jumped at his observation “Y-yeah, why you ask?”

“You don’t seem yourself. Is it maybe Luka? Are you guys fighting?”

“Um… no? Why are you specifically bringing him up?” she asked confused.

A small blush bloomed on Adrien’s face “Sorry I didn’t mean to impose on your guys relationship. I couldn’t think of another reason.”

“Our relationship?” Marinette blurted.

Okay now Adrien looked confused “Aren’t you guys? Ya know? Together?”

“What? No!” Marinette screamed.

The blonde blinked at her in confusion.

“Sorry, what I meant to say is that he is a friend. We’re not together.” Marinette coughed.

“Oh…” he said dumbfounded.

The Raven haired girl really felt like she could crawl in a hole at that moment. To think that Adrien thought that she and Luka are dating shocked her. Sure she does have some feelings toward the guitarist but she admits that she’s pushed those feelings down for the sake of her affection for Adrien. But because she had pushed them down so much it felt foreign to imagine them as a couple.

He was a very amazing boy no doubt about it. She could easily fall for him but… there was Adrien… and there was also Chat. Her trusted partner may or may not know that his partnership means the world to her and that she could easily open her heart to him but that would be too dangerous. At least for now.

Her emotions were feeling wild at that moment and the harsh blush on her face made her look overheated right there.

‘Just a friend. Sounds familiar.’ Adrien thought to himself.

Adrien couldn’t lie to himself that Marinette’s confession gave him a bubbly feeling in his chest. It’s strange since that feeling normally occurred when he met Ladybug for the first time or even Kagami. It had been the first time he would be feeling that sensation while with Marinette. He felt a bit sick to be honest with all the emotions coming all together.

And now he wasn’t sure how to respond. He felt that it be weird to tell her to maybe look at Luka differently or give him a chance. It is equally as weird not saying something.

Thankfully for him Kagami called so they could continue practice.

“Sorry, I gotta-” he said quickly.

“Yeah yeah, see ya.” She cut him off.

The blonde couldn’t help but look behind him and see his friend walk away with her raven hair on full display. He also couldn’t understand the thump in his chest when he thoughtlessly hoped to see it again.

///

It was incredibly peaceful that afternoon. The sun was sinking into dusk and Ladybug and Chat finished patrol (with not many words exchanged) and decided to sit on top of the Eiffel tower for a small time out, since most tourists have left by then.

Ladybug felt some tension coming from her partner and she felt on par with him if she had to be honest. All she could think about the last time they fought Miracle Queen and how focused he was, how well he helped her when she felt completely useless. How he finally felt like he cut out of his romantic feelings for her and was a solid rock for her.

He really was a great partner.

And she’s a blind fool, who always chased the shadow of a boy who could never love her back. Meanwhile, here is a boy who really loved her from day one and yet after the last battle, he might have totally given up on her for good.

She doesn’t know how to fully prove it but when he called her Ladybug instead of M’lady, she knew.

They sat and Chat broke the silence “I'm not sure if now is a good time to ask but how are you doing, ya know, being the new Guardian?”

She looked him in the eye and she could see his concern for her. He probably knew how the burden could be taking a toll on her or that she might feel guilt and regret. He was very observant like that.

“To be honest… stressful. As if I was doing any better without the responsibility but now what’s done is done and I can only hope I won’t mess up.” she said truthfully.

“You won’t mess up.” he said a bit sternly.

She huffed “Right, because I haven’t made countless mistakes prior.”

“Or you could not berate yourself like that.” He said annoyed at her.

She felt like another emotional rollercoaster was coming.

“I'm not berating I'm telling the truth. I honestly don’t want all this responsibility knowing I can screw up majorly. Master was much older and wiser than I am and he made mistakes so how will I be different? Plus having two supervillains blindside you does open room for error.” She said bitterly.

“Ladybug… I know what happened wasn’t anyone’s fault so stop blaming yourself. We are just kids in the end. Heck I keep getting hits by Akuma’s a lot and trust me, I feel like the mistake out of the two of us.”

She hated when he did that. He would always make himself look bad so she could feel better and she knew that it would never work.

“Chat Noir. You were undeniably the real hero the other day. I would’ve lost for sure and I'm not going to make it as Guardian without you… so I want to change a rule.”

He felt frozen by her words, she felt like he helped her that much? She wanted to change a rule?

“I think we should know each other’s identities.”

He was screaming inside his body. Was he dreaming? Or was this a sick joke? It felt awfully hard to breath now.

“I- Uh- wha…” he babbled.

She giggled at his expression but used her next sentence in a serious tone “I can’t do it alone. But Chat this would have to mean that if you or I could be compromised, it would be over. That means no hits from Akuma’s. This also means I have to do some research in uncapping some hidden abilities and power reserves so we can last longer in battle. It wont be easy but… I feel we need to get stronger and I can’t see us doing that if we don’t know each other.”

“And you think this is the best decision as Guardian?” he asked hoping his tone didn’t sound desperate.

“I do.” she reaffirmed strongly.

He felt like this was the best dream. But his own feelings felt so jumbled, he wasn’t sure what to do with them at the moment.

“Then let’s do it in an hour… I’ll send you the location on our communicators and when making our way there, make sure you aren’t followed.”

“Roger.” He nodded.

She smiled at him before she zipped away on her yoyo.

His heart melted and felt on cloud nine. Although, he couldn’t help but feel awful that he wasn’t sure if he should stop pursuing Ladybug. He did make sure to try and move on because she already loved someone else… but maybe there was still some hope for him.

[girlinthepictureframe]

The Briefest Kiss Part 18B

Half an hour later, cleaned up and dressed nicely, Miles strolled down the stairs, Alex in tow. “Why do you keep walking behind me?” he wondered.

Alex smirked. He still couldn't shrug that feeling of happiness. Not that he wanted to. It clung to him like a second skin. “I like the view from here.”

Miles tossed him a dirty grin over his shoulder. “Careful, or our friends might figure out that you fancy me a bit.”

“Let them, I don’t care.” Alex couldn’t imagine not having Miles, and the harder he tried to stay away from him, the less he succeeded. The more he tried to reason with himself that giving into Miles was a horrible idea, the less his heart paid attention.

And he felt his arguments slipping away from him. How could he say that they wouldn’t find time for each other when it was so easy lately to find time for each other? How could he reason with restlessness when he only ever felt it in the absence of Miles? How could he claim to be selfish in the presence of a partner when Miles’ presence made him anything but that?

What if Taylor had it wrong? What if he could make it work? If he hadn’t ruined Miles’ life by now, didn’t that mean that maybe he might not ruin it at all?

“You okay?”

Alex blinked. “What?”

“Got quiet there all of sudden.”

“Oh…just…thinking.”

Miles fell in step next to him, slung his arm around his shoulders and kissed his temple. “Stop doing that. Thinking. It’s not good for you.”

“Oh really?” chuckled Alex.

“It’s a party. We’re here to notthink,” he explained to him.

Zack, Matt and a few others were sitting near the pool and waiving at them. Miles led Alex there. “Should we decide on a codeword before we sit down?”

“Codeword for what?” asked Alex, confused.

Leaning in, brushing his lips against Alex’s ear, Miles whispered, “For when you need me so badly that it’s tearing you apart. A codeword that lets me know that I need to follow you and do something about your state.”

Alex struggled for air. He was trapped in a weird mixture of amusement and arousal and as he was laughing, he couldn’t help but pinch Miles’ butt. “You’re crazy, you know that?”

“It’s why you love me,” quipped Miles.

The words came out so fast and so naturally that it startled them both. Alex could tell by the look in Miles’ eyes. “It’s true,” admitted Alex after a beat. Their eyes locked, until the calls and whistles from their friends became too loud to ignore.

“Well, what did we miss?” asked Alex as he sat down next to Miles.

“Nothing much,” said Matt, placing two full bottles of beer in front of them. “David was telling us about his upcoming wedding. Big party across the pond.”

The David in question sat a few seats down the large table. “Huge thing. Can’t wait to see you all,” he said. “Sure you can’t make it, Miles?”

“We already locked down the gigs in eastern Europe. I’ll fly out and celebrate with you later this year. Promise.”

“Do that,” agreed David and the two of them got lost in a discussion about some band they’d heard. Some others joined in as well. Alex, meanwhile, enjoyed just sitting there. He’d never felt the need to talk much. He rather liked listening to stories.

He also liked that Miles had his arm still slung over his shoulder and was absentmindedly playing with a strand of hair at the back of his head. It was innocent, really, but also not. It was full of intimacy. It was a gesture that let everyone know that Miles had that certain special privilege that allowed him to touch Alex in public, that allowed him to venture into his personal space and get comfortable there. It was a touch that let every know that Alex was his and Alex very much loved being Miles’. He also enjoyed having the same privileges and so he reached out, placed his arm over Miles’ shoulder and lightly ran his fingers through his friend’s hair. To know that he was allowed to do that, to just touch him whenever he felt like it, was giving him a strange sense of accomplishment, like he must have done something right to deserve that. Miles flashed him a brief but bright smile before returning to his conversation.

Matt leaned over towards Alex. “So that thing that I saw, whatever that was, does it mean that you and he are a thing now?”

“It means,” said Alex, “that we forgot to lock the door, which won't happen again!” He checked and found everyone else still locked in a discussion. He lowered his voice. “And no, we're not. He and I…” How was he supposed to define something that defied all common definitions? “We're just friends, only…not just friends.”

Matt nodded towards the poolside and Alex got up and followed him there. “You know he wants to be with you, right? I care for the both of you. I want my friends to be happy.”

“I appreciate your enthusiasm for my love life,” snickered Alex, “but he, too, believes that—”

“He believes that's what you want,” interrupted Matt. “And he's as scared as you are…”

Alex rolled his eyes but as he listened to Matt’s ramblings, his attention was drawn back to Miles. He was still in the midst of an avid discussion with their friends, but every now and then his eyes strayed towards him. Not for long, just a second or two, until he caught himself and looked away again. His friend’s fingers, however, remained fixed in one place – the neck of his beer bottle. And his thumb and index finger were slowly, gently, absentmindedly travelling up and down the damp glass. He was jerking off the damn bottle and didn’t even realize it! Alex couldn’t stop staring. He really shouldn’t have laughed at Miles’ suggestion of a codeword!

“Stop drooling!” Matt snorted. “For two people who are so worried that sex might destroy their friendship, you're awfully eager to get it on!”

Alex was dumbstruck. He wanted to object, to call Matt out for his words, but the guy had spoken the truth. And he hated being confronted by the truth, especially when it was a truth he refused to acknowledge! “We're not— That's not…no?!”

“Speechless?” Matt scoffed. “Figures.”

“Out of all the people, you're the one who should understand why I'm scared! You and Bri were friends before you got together. And now you're divorced. If you hadn't gotten together, you'd still be friends!”

Matt shot him a harsh glare. “Listen up, Al! I love you dearly, but you're a fucking idiot! I would do it all over again, exactly the same way, If I could. Even knowing how it will end. I wouldn't want to miss a single memory I made with her. We didn't succeed and that hurt. I moved on and I'm happy again. But while it was good, it was incredible. So no, I don't understand.”

Alex looked away, ashamed. “I'm sorry I said that. It was bad. It's just…she's no longer in your life. And if Miles and I were to mess it up, he'd no longer be in my life.”

“You don't know that, Alex. Think about it, you kind of messed it up already. And he's still there!” Matt gave his shoulder a playful punch.

Well, not that playful. Alex winced. “OW!”

“Oh, toughen up! You're such wuss lately!”

Alex punched Matt's shoulder and when he winced in pain, Alex raised his eyebrow pointedly. “Sorry, did that hurt?”

“Fine, I take it back!” Matt chuckled. “Let's grab some food. Before you tempt me into throwing a real punch.”

“Think you can deck me?” Alex grinned as they made their way to the large BBQ grill. “Try, I dare you, Helders!”

“Someday, Turner. Someday.”

It was well into the night when Alex found Miles on one of the oversized loungers by the pool, gazing up into the clear night's sky.

“One of us always ends up doing that.”

Miles turned to smile at him. “Want to watch the stars with me?”

Alex got onto the lounger and climbed behind Miles, who in return got comfortable between Alex's legs. Leaning back, he rested his head against Alex's chin and tugged Alex's arms around his torso. Alex was only too happy to accommodate him.

After a while of silently watching the firmament, Alex posed a question he'd been wrecking his mind about for days now. “How about a new couch?”

“You don't like your old one anymore?” Miles dipped his head backwards, trying to meet Alex's eyes. “Do you ever even sit on it?”

“Maybe,” suggested Alex, “if I liked it more, I would sit on it more often. I could watch TV on it. Or…nap.” What else did one do on a couch?

“Make out on it?” grinned Miles.

“But you're never around to make out with,” countered Alex. The thought of making out with anyone else never even crossed his mind. “I think you should visit me more. At least once a month. And I could visit you once a month. That way we would see each other at least twice a month.” A grin lit Alex's face. “And if we agree to meet a third time at whatever random place you and I might be at any given moment, we would see each other at least three times a month.” And if we moved in together, a voice whispered faintly, we'd see each other much more often than that. But Alex didn't dare to say that out loud. They weren't together! Where did that thought even come from?!

Miles shifted, tried to get a closer look at Alex. “What are you trying to tell me?”

“I'm just saying that…” Alex wasn't sure what he was trying to say. “We should see each other more often, is what I'm trying to say, I guess.”

Miles nodded as his attention returned to the stars. “I'd like to see you more often.”

A smile settled comfortably on Alex's face and he began to run his fingers lightly up and down the back of Miles' hands. “It's been two years and ten months since the last time we've done this.”

“The night I kissed you,” remembered Miles. ”So much has happened since then.”

Alex nodded. He felt his friend slightly stiffening in his arms. “You're okay?”

“I'm going to ask you something.” Miles began to fidget. “But you need to be honest with me. Even if it hurts my feelings. It's one of those times where I can tell when you lie.”

Alex covered Miles' hands with his and linked their fingers reassuringly, steadying them. “I promise.”

Miles took a deep breath. “Was there ever a moment when you regretted that I kissed you? Your life would be much different if hadn't done that. You could still be with Taylor right now.”

Alex caught Miles’ eyes as he tugged him further into his arms. “When you kissed me, you showed me that there was an entire world out there that I had never even glimpsed at. Your lips introduced me to a whole new universe. You took away the limits of my life and made it endlessly more exciting. If there is one thing I regret, then it's not kissing you back that night.” He dipped his head forward, gently kissed Miles and beamed at him. “I'll be forever grateful that you kissed me.”

Miles smiled at him so bright, so full of emotion and happiness that Alex’s heart beat faster and it brought back another memory of that night. He smirked. “Did you know that your kiss lasted five heartbeats?”

“What?” Miles turned slightly, adjusted in Alex's strong arms. His eyes crinkled in amusement and something else, something Alex couldn't define. Was this how love looked like in somebody else's eyes? “You counted them?”

“I did. I couldn't possibly not. My heart was beating so loud in that moment. But I don't know if it was beating fast or slow. I lost all sense for time. Afterwards, as I tried to sort my thoughts, you leaned back and whispered that you'd fantasized about doing that for a while now.”

Miles' eyes went wide. “So that's what that line was about! I don't remember whispering anything to you.”

Alex wasn’t surprised. “Well, you promptly fell asleep and left me sitting there, counting the stars, trying to make sense of it all!”

“Did you make sense of it?”

“Never did,” admitted Alex. “I still don't know why you did it.”

“I couldn't not do it,” Miles said. “Sometimes I think I was meant to kiss you that night.” He frowned as he rolled on his stomach, facing Alex as he laid on top of him. “My fantasy was kissing you. I know you said you’ve fantasized about me, but you never gave me any details! What, precisely, did you imagine when you let your mind run free?”

“Oh, wouldn't you like to know?” Alex laughed. He brushed a strand of hair from Miles' forehead. “At that point, when I wrote the song? I had very virtuous fantasies about you and me, about chaste little kisses in shadowy corners. Nothing dirty.” He placed a lingering kiss on Miles' lips.

Miles turned back around with a smile, getting cozy between Alex's legs again. As he snuggled his head back against the side of Alex's face, he resumed watching the stars. “And later?”

“Later?” Alex nuzzled Miles' cheek, craving the sensation of his slight stubble as it lightly scratched the tip of his nose. “You mean, did my fantasies dip their toes into the dirty pond? Well, there's one I rather like,” he hushed, trailing one hand down the front of Miles' abdomen, “want to know about it?” He felt Miles nod shakily. Alex traced the outlines of Miles' pecks through his shirt. “You're on stage, playing a song, standing in front of the mic. It's a hot day and you're covered in sweat. Everyone's loving your show. And I'm watching from the side of the stage. Until I can't take it anymore.” Miles was growing restless and Alex felt spurred on. “I walk out and stand in front of you but you're forever the professional performer and ignore me. So, I drop to my knees and undo your zipper. I take you out and find you hard and leaking and I swallow you completely, right there, on stage, in front of thousands of people. And I suck you off so hard…” Alex dug his hands into Miles' hips as he squirmed in his arms. He nipped at his neck, then sucked hard on his skin, leaving a mark. “Dirty enough for you? I got more,” he offered, his voice thick and raw.

Miles grabbed his hand, entwined their fingers and placed it on top of his erection. Alex grinned victoriously. “This has turned you on, baby!” Alex pushed their joined hands down, rubbed Miles' cock through his jeans. He tried to get his own bit of friction by pushing himself against the back of Miles' butt, grinding. Their movements turned frantic, urgent, until—

“This looks like fun,” said a female voice, towering above Alex and Miles and disrupting them in the most unwelcoming of moments. “Mind if me and my friend join in?”

Blinking, trying to make sense of the voice and groaning irately at being disturbed, Alex looked up and glared. “I don't share. Get fucking lost!”

He heard Miles chuckling. “We forgot that it's that kind of party,” Miles reminded him in a bout of laughter. “Should have brought that door sign with us.”

Alex groaned, giving up on grinding and stroking, instead resuming to cuddle. “Maybe we should keep the sexual acts behind closed doors, at least for the duration of this party!”

Miles succumbed to laughter.

As Alex watched Miles’ laughter die down and his focus for the stars return, something occurred to him. Something he needed an answer for. Right away. “Miles?”

“Hm?”

“Do we share?”

“What?” Miles looked up over his shoulder, giving Alex the strangest look.

“I mean, I know I don't want to share. But I can't speak for you, can I?” Alex struggled to find the words for what he was trying to ask. Well, he knew what he wanted to ask, but that would require defining them. Which, as was obvious, was a bit complicated.

“Are you asking me if we're exclusive?”

“Well…” Alex rolled his eyes. “We're not a 'we' in the average sense of the word 'we', are we?”

“You're confusing me.”

Alex grunted. “I'm confusing myself! Are we exclusive?” He blurted again. Impatient. “This thing…whatever the fuck it is, is it just us?”

Miles' squinty look of perplexity made room for a slow smile. “Al, whatever the fuck it is, it is just us. No sharing. No one else. Just you and me.”

Alex wrapped his arms possessively around Miles and nodded. “Good. I'm happy we cleared that up.”

“Me too,” grinned Miles. “Remind me to cancel my other dates for the week!”

Alex bit down on Miles' neck. “Not funny!”

“I think it's very funny.” Miles wiggled deeper into Alex's arms. “But you can rest easy. I'm all yours.” Taking Alex's hand and bringing it to his lips, Miles kissed the back of it.

Forever? Asked that faint voice in the back of Alex's head. He pushed that thought away, once again. Instead, he watched Miles as his attention got lost in the sky.

“Still trying to arrange the stars into a song?” He'd come to find that Miles enjoyed watching the night's sky even more than he himself did, which was remarkable.

“I'm trying to catch their tune,” spoke Miles and took one of Alex's hands in his. He lifted it up, aligned their index fingers and pointed at a star. “See it? It's twinkling. All the stars are. But sometimes you have to look a long time to catch it.” His cheek rubbed against Alex's. “I think the stars are listening to a silent melody and dancing along to the tune. One day I'll figure out what it sounds like,” he said and pecked Alex's cheek.

“Go on a date with me.”

Miles sat up, stunned. He turned, looked at Alex in shock. “What?”

“Tuesday night, when you're in Paris, go on a date with me.” Alex leaned up as well. He placed his hand on Miles' face, cupping it gently. Even though his question had visibly startled him, Miles leaned into his touch as though it was the most natural thing in the world. And it brought a moment of calm to him. But as Miles remained silent, Alex got nervous again. His voice turned quiet. “Say yes, Miles. Please.”

“If I do…” Miles swallowed hard, his words were unsteady. “What if I like it? What if we like it? What if we want to go on another date?” He sounded as shaken as Alex. “What then?”

Alex took a trembling breath. He was startled by his own words. “Then we go on another date.”

Miles' voice got even more jittery. “What if we like that, too?”

He knew what Miles was asking and reached for his hand, squeezing it. Feeling him return the gesture, Alex got a little braver. He dared to smile. And touched Miles' nose with the tip of his own. “What if we can make it work, Miles? What if we won't mess it up?”

Miles pressed his forehead against Alex's, sounding breathless and full of emotion. “Do you really want to try?”

“It's all I want!” Alex kissed him. “I can't be without you anymore!” Another kiss.

He hadn't meant to ask him that. Hadn't planned on asking him out. But as he was holding onto Miles and listening to his musings about stars and silent songs, he'd realized that no matter how hard he would try, he'd never be able to let go of him again.

He couldn't imagine a day where he wouldn't want to feel his lips, taste his kiss, listen to his thoughts and get lost in his shiny big eyes when he smiled. And all of sudden, it didn't matter anymore that he was scared and nervous and unsure how to actually do it all – this whole happily-ever-after thing was new to him, after all. The only thing that mattered was knowing that Miles would be there with him, all the way, right down to the very end.

And if the end should ever arrive, they'd manage that together as well. They would remain friends forever. There was no longer a shred of doubt in Alex's mind. For he had finally understood. Love wasn't about succeeding or failing. It was about seeing the other one smile. And making Miles smile was something Alex could easily do for the rest of his life.

“I need to hear it, Miles. Say yes,” Alex pleaded again. “Tuesday night. Dinner and a movie. You and me.”

When Miles gave him his big, happy smile, Alex felt the floor beneath him disappear. And when Miles finally said yes, Alex felt like he was flying for the first time in his life.

Spoiler Part 19:

“I want you,” rasped Alex, leaning in to nibble on Miles’ earlobe. “Right here.” One hand fisted Miles’ tie. “On the muddy ground. In the rain.” 

[hlupdate]

A hand­shake can quell polit­i­cal unrest and sti­fle impend­ing war. It can, with a bit of spit, val­i­date a gentleman’s agree­ment, end a years-long roman­tic rela­tion­ship or send a young heart rac­ing. But it all depends on the two par­ties involved.

Daisy, 21, felt a seis­mic jolt when Har­ry Styles, 25, wear­ing a striped jumper and rings on three of his five fin­gers, clutched her hand two days after this year’s Met Gala in New York, when she served him gela­to at the shop where she worked.

“He decid­ed on a small mint choco­late gela­to and I made his and the one for his friend and I said, ​‘Can I just say I absolute­ly loved your Met Gala look’ and he said ​‘Thank you very much! What’s your name?’ And I said, ​‘Daisy’ AND HE FUCK­ING EXTEND­ED HISHAND AND REACHED TO SHAKE MY HAND AND I ACTU­AL­LY FUCK­INGSHOOK HIS HAND WHAT THE FUCK,” she wrote on Insta­gram after The Shak­en­ing. ​“Like I didn’t even say any­thing to gas him up besides ​‘I loved your met gala look’ and his fine ass went and shook my hand! WHAT A BEAU­TI­FUL FUCK­ING HUMAN BEINGTHAT HE IS GOD BLESS HIM AND I HOPE HW [sic] LIVES FOREVER.”

For Har­ry Styles, a hand­shake can be a roman­tic ges­ture, con­jur­ing a potent rev­er­ence in its recip­i­ent, like the time he met Gucci’s cre­ative direc­tor Alessan­dro Michele. ​“He was as attrac­tive as James Dean and as per­sua­sive as Gre­ta Gar­bo. He was like a Luchi­no Vis­con­ti char­ac­ter, like an Apol­lo: at the same time sexy as a woman, as a kid, as a man,” Michele told me, has­ten­ing to add: ​“Of course, Har­ry is not aware of this.”

No, Styles has no idea the pow­er he wields. In per­son, he’s tow­er­ing, like some­one who is not that much taller but whose rep­u­ta­tion adds four inch­es. Styles has a seda­tive bari­tone, spo­ken in a rum­my north­ern Eng­lish accent, that tum­bles out so slow­ly you for­get the name of your first born, a swag­ger that has been nursed and per­fect­ed in myth­i­cal places with names like Pais­ley Park, or Abbey Road, or Grace­land. Makes com­plete sense that he would be up for the role of Elvis Pres­ley in Baz Luhrmann’s upcom­ing biopic. He was primed, nay, born to shake his hips, all but one but­ton on his shirt cling­ing for dear life around his tor­so. Then the part was award­ed to anoth­er actor, Austin Butler.

“[Elvis] was such an icon for me grow­ing up,” Styles tells me. ​“There was some­thing almost sacred about him, almost like I didn’t want to touch him. Then I end­ed up get­ting into [his life] a bit and I wasn’t dis­ap­point­ed,” he adds of his ini­tial research and prepa­ra­tions to play The King. He seems relaxed about los­ing the part to But­ler. ​“I feel like if I’m not the right per­son for the thing, then it’s best for both of us that I don’t do it, you know?”

Styles released his self-titled debut solo album in May 2017. The boy­band grad was clear­ly unin­ter­est­ed in hol­low­ing out the charts with more for­mu­la­ic meme pop. Instead, to the sur­prise of many, he dug his heels into retro-fetishist West Coast ​’70s rock. Some of the One Direc­tion fan-hordes might have been con­fused, but no mat­ter: Har­ry Styles sold one mil­lion copies.

Despite its com­mer­cial and crit­i­cal suc­cess, he didn’t tour the album right away. He want­ed to act in the Christo­pher Nolan film Dunkirk. To his cred­it, his por­tray­al of a British sol­dier cow­er­ing in a moored boat on the French beach­es as the Nazis advanced wasn’t skew­ered in the press like the movie debuts of, say, Madon­na or Justin Tim­ber­lake. Per­haps he was fol­low­ing advice giv­en by Elton John, who had urged him to diver­si­fy. ​“He was bril­liant in Dunkirk, which took a lot of peo­ple by sur­prise,” John writes in an email. ​“I love how he takes chances and risks.” Act­ing, unlike music, is a release for Styles; it’s the one time he can be not himself.

“Why do I want to act? It’s so dif­fer­ent to music for me,” he says, sud­den­ly ani­mat­ed. ​“They’re almost oppo­site for me. Music, you try and put so much of your­self into it; act­ing, you’re try­ing to total­ly dis­ap­pear in who­ev­er you’re being.”

Fol­low­ing the news that he missed out on Pres­ley, his name was float­ed for the role of Prince Eric in Disney’s live-action remake of The Lit­tle Mer­maid. How­ev­er, fans will have to wait a bit longer to see Styles on the big screen as that idea, too, has sunk. He won’t be The King or the Prince. ​“It was dis­cussed,” he acknow­ledges before swift­ly chang­ing the sub­ject. ​“I want to put music out and focus on that for a while. But every­one involved in it was amaz­ing, so I think it’s going to be great. I’ll enjoy watch­ing it, I’m sure.”

The new album is wrapped and the sin­gle is decid­ed upon. ​“It’s not like his last album,” his friend, rock ​‘n’ roll leg­end Ste­vie Nicks, told me recent­ly over the phone. ​“It’s not like any­thing One Direc­tion ever did. It’s pure Har­ry, as Har­ry would say. He’s made a very dif­fer­ent record and it’s spectacular.”

Beyond that, Styles is keep­ing his cards close to his chest as to his next musi­cal move. How­ev­er, the air is thick with rumours that his main wing­man for HS2 is Kid Har­poon, aka Tom Hull, who co-wrote debut album track Sweet Crea­ture. No less an author­i­ty than Liam Gal­lagher told us that both big band escapees were in the same stu­dio – RAK in north-west Lon­don – at the same time mak­ing their sec­ond solo albums. Styles played him a cou­ple of tracks, ​“and I tell you what, they’re good,” Gal­lagher enthused. ​“A bit like that Bon Iver. Is that his name?”

Har­ry Styles met Nicks at a Fleet­wood Mac con­cert in Los Ange­les in April 2015. Some­thing about him felt authen­tic to the leg­endary front­woman: ground­ed, like she’d known him for­ev­er, blessed with a win­ning moon­shot grin. A month lat­er, they met back­stage at anoth­er Mac gig, this time at the O2 in Lon­don. Styles brought a car­rot cake for Nicks’ birth­day, her name piped in icing on top. By her own admis­sion, Nicks doesn’t even cel­e­brate birth­days, so this was a sur­prise. ​“He was per­son­al­ly respon­si­ble for me actu­al­ly hav­ing to cel­e­brate my birth­day, which was very sweet,” she says.

Styles’ rela­tion­ship with Nicks is hard to define. Induct­ing her into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in New York as a solo artist ear­li­er this year, his speech hymned her as a ​“mag­i­cal gyp­sy god­moth­er who occu­pies the in-between”. She’s called him her ​“lovechild” with Mick Fleet­wood and the ​“son I nev­er had”. Both have moved past the pre­lim­i­nary chat acknowl­edg­ing each other’s unquan­tifi­able tal­ents and smooth­ly accel­er­at­ed towards play­ful cut-and-thrust ban­ter of a witch mom and her naughty child.

They per­form togeth­er – he sings The Chainand Stop Drag­gin’ My Heart Around; she sings the one alleged­ly writ­ten about Tay­lor Swift, Two Ghosts. One of those per­for­mances was at the Guc­ci Cruise after­par­ty in Rome in May, for ​“a lot of mon­ey”, Nicks tells me, in a ​“big kind of cas­tle place”. She has become his de fac­to men­tor – one phone call is all it takes to reach the Queen of Rock’n’Roll for advice on sequenc­ing (“She is real­ly good at track list­ing,” Styles admits) or just to hear each other’s voic­es… because, well, wouldn’t you?

Fol­low­ing anoth­er Fleet­wood Mac con­cert, at London’s Wem­b­ley Sta­di­um, in June, Nicks met Styles for a late (Indi­an) din­ner. He then invit­ed her back to his semi-detached Geor­gian man­sion in north Lon­don for a lis­ten­ing par­ty at mid­night. The album – HS2or what­ev­er it’ll be called – was fin­ished. Nicks, her assis­tant Karen, her make-up artist and her friends Jess and Mary crammed onto Styles’ liv­ing-room couch. They lis­tened to it once through in silence like a ​“bunch of edu­cat­ed monks or some­thing in this dark room”. Then once again, 15 or 16 tracks, this time each of his guests offer­ing live feed­back. It wrapped at 5am, just as the sun was bleed­ing through the curtains.

Even for a pop star of Styles’ stature, press­ing ​“play” on a deeply per­son­al work for your hero to digest, watch­ing her face react in real time to your new music, must be… what?

“It’s a dou­ble-edged thing,” he replies. ​“You’re always ner­vous when you are play­ing peo­ple music for the first time. You’ve heard it so much by this point, you for­get that peo­ple haven’t heard it before. It’s hard to not feel like you’ve done what you’ve set out to do. You are hap­py with some­thing and then some­one who you respect so much and look up to is, like: ​‘I real­ly like this.’ It feels like a large stamp [of approval]. It’s a big step towards feel­ing very com­fort­able with what­ev­er else hap­pens to it.”

Wad­ing through Styles’ back­ground info is exhaust­ing, since he was spanked by fame in the social media era where every god­dam blink of a kohl-rimmed eye has been doc­u­ment­ed from six angles. (And yes, he does some­times wear guyliner.)

Deep breath: born in Red­ditch, Worces­ter­shire, to par­ents Des and Anne, who divorced when he was sev­en. Grew up in Holmes Chapel in Cheshire with his sis­ter Gem­ma, mum and step­dad Robin Twist. Rode hors­es at a near­by sta­ble for free (“I was a bad rid­er, but I was a rid­er”). Stopped rid­ing, ​“got into dif­fer­ent stuff”. Formed a band, White Eski­mo, with school­mates. Aged 16, tried out for the 2010 run of The X Fac­torwith a stir­ring but aver­age ren­di­tion of Ste­vie Wonder’s Isn’t She Love­ly. Cut from the show and put into a boy band with four oth­ers, Louis Tom­lin­son, Liam Payne, Niall Horan and Zayn Malik, and called One Direc­tion. Became inter­na­tion­al­ly famous, toured the globe. Zayn quit to go solo. Toured some more. Dat­ed but maybe didn’t date Car­o­line Flack, Rita Ora and Tay­lor Swift – whom he report­ed­ly dumped in the British Vir­gin Islands. (This rela­tion­ship, if noth­ing else, yield­ed an icon­ic, can­did shot of Swift look­ing deject­ed, being motored back to shore on the back of a boat called the Fly­ing Ray.) One Direc­tion dis­cussed dis­band­ing in 2014, actu­al­ly dis­solved in 2015. They remain friend­ly, and Styles offi­cial­ly went solo in 2016.

It’s been two years since his epony­mous debut and lead sin­gle, Sign of the Times, shocked the world and Elton John with its swag­ger­ing, soft rock sound. ​“It came out of left field and I loved it,” John says.

After 89 are­na-packed shows across five con­ti­nents grossed him, the label, whomev­er, over $61 mil­lion, Styles had all but dis­ap­peared. He has emerged only inter­mit­tent­ly for pub­lic-fac­ing events – a Guc­ci after­par­ty per­for­mance here, a Met Gala co-chair­ing there. He relo­cat­ed from Los Ange­les back to Lon­don, sell­ing his Hol­ly­wood Hills house for $6mil­lion and ship­ping his Jaguar E-type across the Atlantic so he could take joyrides on the M25.

“I’m not over LA,” he insists when I ask about the move. ​“My rela­tion­ship with LAchanged a lot. What I want­ed from LA changed.”

A great escape, he would agree, is some­times nec­es­sary. He was in Tokyo for most of Jan­u­ary, hav­ing near­ly fin­ished his album. ​“I need­ed time to get out of that album frame-of-mind of: ​‘Is it fin­ished? Where am I at? What’s hap­pen­ing?’ I real­ly need­ed that time away from every­one. I was kind of just in Tokyo by myself.” His sab­bat­i­cal most­ly involved read­ing Haru­ki Murakami’s The Wind-Up Bird Chron­i­cle, singing Nir­vana at karaoke, writ­ing alone in his hotel room, lis­ten­ing to music and eaves­drop­ping on strangers in alien con­ver­sa­tion. ​“It was just a pos­i­tive time for my head and I think that impact­ed the album in a big way.”

Dur­ing this break he watched a lot of films, read a lot of books. Some­times he texts these rec­om­men­da­tions to his pal Michele at Guc­ci. He told Michele to watch the Ali Mac­graw film, Love Sto­ry. ​“We text what friends text about. He is the same [as me] in terms of he lives in his own world and he does his own thing. I love dress­ing up and he loves dress­ing up.”

Because he loves dress­ing up, Michele chose Styles to be the face of three Guc­ci Tai­lor­ing cam­paigns and of its new gen­der­less fra­grance, Mémoire d’une Odeur.

“The moment I met him, I imme­di­ate­ly under­stood there was some­thing strong around him,” Michele tells me. ​“I realised he was much more than a young singer. He was a young man, dressed in a thought­ful way, with uncombed hair and a beau­ti­ful voice. I thought he gath­ered with­in him­self the fem­i­nine and the masculine.”

Fash­ion, for Styles, is a play­ground. Some­thing he doesn’t take too seri­ous­ly. A cou­ple of years ago Har­ry Lam­bert, his styl­ist since 2015, acquired for him a pair of pink metal­lic Saint Lau­rent boots that he has nev­er been pho­tographed wear­ing. They are exceed­ing­ly rare – few pairs exist. Styles wears them ​“to get milk”. They are, in his words, ​“super-fun”. He’s not sure, but he has, ball­park, 50 pairs of shoes, as well as full clos­ets in at least three post­codes. He set­tles on an out­fit fair­ly quick­ly, maybe changes his T-shirt once before head­ing out, but most­ly knows what he likes.

What he may not ful­ly com­pre­hend is that sim­ply by being pho­tographed in a gar­ment he can spur the career of a design­er, as he has with Har­ris Reed, Palo­mo Spain, Charles Jef­frey, Alled-Martínez and a new favourite, Bode. Styles wore a SS16 Guc­ci flo­ral suit to the 2015 Amer­i­can Music Awards. When he was asked who made his suit on the red car­pet, Guc­ci began trend­ing world­wide on Twitter.

“It was one of the first times a male wore Alessandro’s run­way designs and, at the time, men were not tak­ing too many red car­pet risks,” says Lam­bert. ​“Who knows if it influ­enced oth­ers, but it was a spe­cial moment. Plus, it was fun see­ing the fans dress up in suits to come see Harry’s shows.”

Yet tra­di­tion­al gen­der codes of dress still have the minds of mid­dle Amer­i­ca in a choke­hold. Men can’t wear women’s clothes, say the online whingers, who have labelled him ​“trag­ic”, ​“a clown” and a Bowie wannabe. Styles doesn’t care. ​“What’s fem­i­nine and what’s mas­cu­line, what men are wear­ing and what women are wear­ing – it’s like there are no lines any more.”

Elton John agrees: ​“It worked for Marc Bolan, Bowie and Mick. Har­ry has the same qualities.”

Then there is the ques­tion of Styles’ sex­u­al­i­ty, some­thing he has admit­ted­ly ​“nev­er real­ly start­ed to label”, which will plague him until he does. Per­haps it’s part of his allure. He’s bran­dished a pride flag that read ���“Make Amer­i­ca Gay Again” on stage, and plant­ed a stake some­where left of cen­tre on sexuality’s rain­bow spectrum.

“In the posi­tion that he’s in, he can’t real­ly say a lot, but he chose a queer girl band to open for him and I think that speaks vol­umes,” Josette Maskin of the queer band MUNA told The Face ear­li­er this year.

“I get a lot of…” Styles trails off, wheels turn­ing on how he can dis­cuss sex­u­al­i­ty with­out real­ly answer­ing. ​“I’m not always super-out­spo­ken. But I think it’s very clear from choic­es that I make that I feel a cer­tain way about lots of things. I don’t know how to describe it. I guess I’m not…” He paus­es again, piv­ots. ​“I want every­one to feel wel­come at shows and online. They want to be loved and equal, you know? I’m nev­er unsup­port­ed, so it feels weird for me to over­think it for some­one else.”

Sex­u­al­i­ty aside, he must acknowl­edge that he has sex appeal. ​“The word ​‘sexy’ sounds so strange com­ing out of my mouth. So I would say that that’s prob­a­bly why I would not con­sid­er myself sexy.”

Har­ry Styles has emerged ful­ly-formed, an anachro­nis­tic rock star, vague in sen­si­bil­i­ty but des­tined to impress with a dis­arm­ing smile and a warm but firm handshake.

I recite to him a quote from Chrissie Hyn­de of The Pre­tenders about her time atop rock’s throne: ​“I nev­er got into this for the mon­ey or because I want­ed to join in the super­star sex around the swim­ming pools. I did it because the offer of a record con­tract came along and it seemed like it might be more fun than being a wait­ress. Now, I’m not so sure.”

Styles – who worked in a bak­ery in a small north­ern town some time before play­ing to 40,000 scream­ing fans in South Amer­i­can are­nas – must have wit­nessed some shit, been invit­ed to a few pool­side sex par­ties, in his time.

“I’ve seen a cou­ple of things,” he nods in agree­ment. ​“But I’m still young. I feel like there’s still stuff to see.”

[stylesnews]

The Face - Volume 4 . Issue 1

A hand­shake can quell polit­i­cal unrest and sti­fle impend­ing war. It can, with a bit of spit, val­i­date a gentleman’s agree­ment, end a years-long roman­tic rela­tion­ship or send a young heart rac­ing. But it all depends on the two par­ties involved.

Daisy, 21, felt a seis­mic jolt when Har­ry Styles, 25, wear­ing a striped jumper and rings on three of his five fin­gers, clutched her hand two days after this year’s Met Gala in New York, when she served him gela­to at the shop where she worked.

“He decid­ed on a small mint choco­late gela­to and I made his and the one for his friend and I said, ​‘Can I just say I absolute­ly loved your Met Gala look’ and he said ​‘Thank you very much! What’s your name?’ And I said, ​‘Daisy’ AND HE FUCK­ING EXTEND­ED HIS HAND AND REACHEDTO SHAKE MY HAND AND I ACTU­AL­LY FUCK­ING SHOOK HIS HAND WHAT THEFUCK,” she wrote on Insta­gram after The Shak­en­ing. ​“Like I didn’t even say any­thing to gas him up besides ​‘I loved your met gala look’ and his fine ass went and shook my hand! WHATA BEAU­TI­FUL FUCK­ING HUMAN BEING THAT HE IS GOD BLESS HIM AND I HOPE HW[sic] LIVES FOREVER.”

For Har­ry Styles, a hand­shake can be a roman­tic ges­ture, con­jur­ing a potent rev­er­ence in its recip­i­ent, like the time he met Gucci’s cre­ative direc­tor Alessan­dro Michele. ​“He was as attrac­tive as James Dean and as per­sua­sive as Gre­ta Gar­bo. He was like a Luchi­no Vis­con­ti char­ac­ter, like an Apol­lo: at the same time sexy as a woman, as a kid, as a man,” Michele told me, has­ten­ing to add: ​“Of course, Har­ry is not aware of this.”

No, Styles has no idea the pow­er he wields. In per­son, he’s tow­er­ing, like some­one who is not that much taller but whose rep­u­ta­tion adds four inch­es. Styles has a seda­tive bari­tone, spo­ken in a rum­my north­ern Eng­lish accent, that tum­bles out so slow­ly you for­get the name of your first born, a swag­ger that has been nursed and per­fect­ed in myth­i­cal places with names like Pais­ley Park, or Abbey Road, or Grace­land. Makes com­plete sense that he would be up for the role of Elvis Pres­ley in Baz Luhrmann’s upcom­ing biopic. He was primed, nay, born to shake his hips, all but one but­ton on his shirt cling­ing for dear life around his tor­so. Then the part was award­ed to anoth­er actor, Austin Butler.

“[Elvis] was such an icon for me grow­ing up,” Styles tells me. ​“There was some­thing almost sacred about him, almost like I didn’t want to touch him. Then I end­ed up get­ting into [his life] a bit and I wasn’t dis­ap­point­ed,” he adds of his ini­tial research and prepa­ra­tions to play The King. He seems relaxed about los­ing the part to But­ler. ​“I feel like if I’m not the right per­son for the thing, then it’s best for both of us that I don’t do it, you know?”

Styles released his self-titled debut solo album in May 2017. The boy­band grad was clear­ly unin­ter­est­ed in hol­low­ing out the charts with more for­mu­la­ic meme pop. Instead, to the sur­prise of many, he dug his heels into retro-fetishist West Coast ​’70s rock. Some of the One Direc­tion fan-hordes might have been con­fused, but no mat­ter: Har­ry Styles sold one mil­lion copies.

Despite its com­mer­cial and crit­i­cal suc­cess, he didn’t tour the album right away. He want­ed to act in the Christo­pher Nolan film Dunkirk. To his cred­it, his por­tray­al of a British sol­dier cow­er­ing in a moored boat on the French beach­es as the Nazis advanced wasn’t skew­ered in the press like the movie debuts of, say, Madon­na or Justin Tim­ber­lake. Per­haps he was fol­low­ing advice giv­en by Elton John, who had urged him to diver­si­fy. ​“He was bril­liant in Dunkirk, which took a lot of peo­ple by sur­prise,” John writes in an email. ​“I love how he takes chances and risks.” Act­ing, unlike music, is a release for Styles; it’s the one time he can be not himself.

“Why do I want to act? It’s so dif­fer­ent to music for me,” he says, sud­den­ly ani­mat­ed. ​“They’re almost oppo­site for me. Music, you try and put so much of your­self into it; act­ing, you’re try­ing to total­ly dis­ap­pear in who­ev­er you’re being.”

Fol­low­ing the news that he missed out on Pres­ley, his name was float­ed for the role of Prince Eric in Disney’s live-action remake of The Lit­tle Mer­maid. How­ev­er, fans will have to wait a bit longer to see Styles on the big screen as that idea, too, has sunk. He won’t be The King or the Prince. ​“It was dis­cussed,” he acknow­ledges before swift­ly chang­ing the sub­ject. ​“I want to put music out and focus on that for a while. But every­one involved in it was amaz­ing, so I think it’s going to be great. I’ll enjoy watch­ing it, I’m sure.”

The new album is wrapped and the sin­gle is decid­ed upon. ​“It’s not like his last album,” his friend, rock ​‘n’ roll leg­end Ste­vie Nicks, told me recent­ly over the phone. ​“It’s not like any­thing One Direc­tion ever did. It’s pure Har­ry, as Har­ry would say. He’s made a very dif­fer­ent record and it’s spectacular.”

Beyond that, Styles is keep­ing his cards close to his chest as to his next musi­cal move. How­ev­er, the air is thick with rumours that his main wing­man for HS2 is Kid Har­poon, aka Tom Hull, who co-wrote debut album track Sweet Crea­ture. No less an author­i­ty than Liam Gal­lagher told us that both big band escapees were in the same stu­dio – RAK in north-west Lon­don – at the same time mak­ing their sec­ond solo albums. Styles played him a cou­ple of tracks, ​“and I tell you what, they’re good,” Gal­lagher enthused. ​“A bit like that Bon Iver. Is that his name?”

Har­ry Styles met Nicks at a Fleet­wood Mac con­cert in Los Ange­les in April 2015. Some­thing about him felt authen­tic to the leg­endary front­woman: ground­ed, like she’d known him for­ev­er, blessed with a win­ning moon­shot grin. A month lat­er, they met back­stage at anoth­er Mac gig, this time at the O2 in Lon­don. Styles brought a car­rot cake for Nicks’ birth­day, her name piped in icing on top. By her own admis­sion, Nicks doesn’t even cel­e­brate birth­days, so this was a sur­prise. ​“He was per­son­al­ly respon­si­ble for me actu­al­ly hav­ing to cel­e­brate my birth­day, which was very sweet,” she says.

Styles’ rela­tion­ship with Nicks is hard to define. Induct­ing her into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in New York as a solo artist ear­li­er this year, his speech hymned her as a ​“mag­i­cal gyp­sy god­moth­er who occu­pies the in-between”. She’s called him her ​“lovechild” with Mick Fleet­wood and the ​“son I nev­er had”. Both have moved past the pre­lim­i­nary chat acknowl­edg­ing each other’s unquan­tifi­able tal­ents and smooth­ly accel­er­at­ed towards play­ful cut-and-thrust ban­ter of a witch mom and her naughty child.

They per­form togeth­er – he sings The Chain and Stop Drag­gin’ My Heart Around; she sings the one alleged­ly writ­ten about Tay­lor Swift, Two Ghosts. One of those per­for­mances was at the Guc­ci Cruise after­par­ty in Rome in May, for ​“a lot of mon­ey”, Nicks tells me, in a ​“big kind of cas­tle place”. She has become his de fac­to men­tor – one phone call is all it takes to reach the Queen of Rock’n’Roll for advice on sequenc­ing (“She is real­ly good at track list­ing,” Styles admits) or just to hear each other’s voic­es… because, well, wouldn’t you?

Fol­low­ing anoth­er Fleet­wood Mac con­cert, at London’s Wem­b­ley Sta­di­um, in June, Nicks met Styles for a late (Indi­an) din­ner. He then invit­ed her back to his semi-detached Geor­gian man­sion in north Lon­don for a lis­ten­ing par­ty at mid­night. The album – HS2or what­ev­er it’ll be called – was fin­ished. Nicks, her assis­tant Karen, her make-up artist and her friends Jess and Mary crammed onto Styles’ liv­ing-room couch. They lis­tened to it once through in silence like a ​“bunch of edu­cat­ed monks or some­thing in this dark room”. Then once again, 15 or 16 tracks, this time each of his guests offer­ing live feed­back. It wrapped at 5am, just as the sun was bleed­ing through the curtains.

Even for a pop star of Styles’ stature, press­ing ​“play” on a deeply per­son­al work for your hero to digest, watch­ing her face react in real time to your new music, must be… what?

“It’s a dou­ble-edged thing,” he replies. ​“You’re always ner­vous when you are play­ing peo­ple music for the first time. You’ve heard it so much by this point, you for­get that peo­ple haven’t heard it before. It’s hard to not feel like you’ve done what you’ve set out to do. You are hap­py with some­thing and then some­one who you respect so much and look up to is, like: ​‘I real­ly like this.’ It feels like a large stamp [of approval]. It’s a big step towards feel­ing very com­fort­able with what­ev­er else hap­pens to it.”

Wad­ing through Styles’ back­ground info is exhaust­ing, since he was spanked by fame in the social media era where every god­dam blink of a kohl-rimmed eye has been doc­u­ment­ed from six angles. (And yes, he does some­times wear guyliner.)

Deep breath: born in Red­ditch, Worces­ter­shire, to par­ents Des and Anne, who divorced when he was sev­en. Grew up in Holmes Chapel in Cheshire with his sis­ter Gem­ma, mum and step­dad Robin Twist. Rode hors­es at a near­by sta­ble for free (“I was a bad rid­er, but I was a rid­er”). Stopped rid­ing, ​“got into dif­fer­ent stuff”. Formed a band, White Eski­mo, with school­mates. Aged 16, tried out for the 2010 run of The X Fac­torwith a stir­ring but aver­age ren­di­tion of Ste­vie Wonder’s Isn’t She Love­ly. Cut from the show and put into a boy band with four oth­ers, Louis Tom­lin­son, Liam Payne, Niall Horan and Zayn Malik, and called One Direc­tion. Became inter­na­tion­al­ly famous, toured the globe. Zayn quit to go solo. Toured some more. Dat­ed but maybe didn’t date Car­o­line Flack, Rita Ora and Tay­lor Swift – whom he report­ed­ly dumped in the British Vir­gin Islands. (This rela­tion­ship, if noth­ing else, yield­ed an icon­ic, can­did shot of Swift look­ing deject­ed, being motored back to shore on the back of a boat called the Fly­ing Ray.) One Direc­tion dis­cussed dis­band­ing in 2014, actu­al­ly dis­solved in 2015. They remain friend­ly, and Styles offi­cial­ly went solo in 2016.

It’s been two years since his epony­mous debut and lead sin­gle, Sign of the Times, shocked the world and Elton John with its swag­ger­ing, soft rock sound. ​“It came out of left field and I loved it,” John says.

After 89 are­na-packed shows across five con­ti­nents grossed him, the label, whomev­er, over $61mil­lion, Styles had all but dis­ap­peared. He has emerged only inter­mit­tent­ly for pub­lic-fac­ing events – a Guc­ci after­par­ty per­for­mance here, a Met Gala co-chair­ing there. He relo­cat­ed from Los Ange­les back to Lon­don, sell­ing his Hol­ly­wood Hills house for $6 mil­lion and ship­ping his Jaguar E-type across the Atlantic so he could take joyrides on the M25.

“I’m not over LA,” he insists when I ask about the move. ​“My rela­tion­ship with LA changed a lot. What I want­ed from LA changed.”

A great escape, he would agree, is some­times nec­es­sary. He was in Tokyo for most of Jan­u­ary, hav­ing near­ly fin­ished his album. ​“I need­ed time to get out of that album frame-of-mind of: ​‘Is it fin­ished? Where am I at? What’s hap­pen­ing?’ I real­ly need­ed that time away from every­one. I was kind of just in Tokyo by myself.” His sab­bat­i­cal most­ly involved read­ing Haru­ki Murakami’s The Wind-Up Bird Chron­i­cle, singing Nir­vana at karaoke, writ­ing alone in his hotel room, lis­ten­ing to music and eaves­drop­ping on strangers in alien con­ver­sa­tion. ​“It was just a pos­i­tive time for my head and I think that impact­ed the album in a big way.”

Dur­ing this break he watched a lot of films, read a lot of books. Some­times he texts these rec­om­men­da­tions to his pal Michele at Guc­ci. He told Michele to watch the Ali Mac­graw film, Love Sto­ry. ​“We text what friends text about. He is the same [as me] in terms of he lives in his own world and he does his own thing. I love dress­ing up and he loves dress­ing up.”

Because he loves dress­ing up, Michele chose Styles to be the face of three Guc­ci Tai­lor­ing cam­paigns and of its new gen­der­less fra­grance, Mémoire d’une Odeur.

“The moment I met him, I imme­di­ate­ly under­stood there was some­thing strong around him,” Michele tells me. ​“I realised he was much more than a young singer. He was a young man, dressed in a thought­ful way, with uncombed hair and a beau­ti­ful voice. I thought he gath­ered with­in him­self the fem­i­nine and the masculine.”

Fash­ion, for Styles, is a play­ground. Some­thing he doesn’t take too seri­ous­ly. A cou­ple of years ago Har­ry Lam­bert, his styl­ist since 2015, acquired for him a pair of pink metal­lic Saint Lau­rent boots that he has nev­er been pho­tographed wear­ing. They are exceed­ing­ly rare – few pairs exist. Styles wears them ​“to get milk”. They are, in his words, ​“super-fun”. He’s not sure, but he has, ball­park, 50 pairs of shoes, as well as full clos­ets in at least three post­codes. He set­tles on an out­fit fair­ly quick­ly, maybe changes his T-shirt once before head­ing out, but most­ly knows what he likes.

What he may not ful­ly com­pre­hend is that sim­ply by being pho­tographed in a gar­ment he can spur the career of a design­er, as he has with Har­ris Reed, Palo­mo Spain, Charles Jef­frey, Alled-Martínez and a new favourite, Bode. Styles wore a SS16 Guc­ci flo­ral suit to the 2015 Amer­i­can Music Awards. When he was asked who made his suit on the red car­pet, Guc­ci began trend­ing world­wide on Twitter.

“It was one of the first times a male wore Alessandro’s run­way designs and, at the time, men were not tak­ing too many red car­pet risks,” says Lam­bert. ​“Who knows if it influ­enced oth­ers, but it was a spe­cial moment. Plus, it was fun see­ing the fans dress up in suits to come see Harry’s shows.”

Yet tra­di­tion­al gen­der codes of dress still have the minds of mid­dle Amer­i­ca in a choke­hold. Men can’t wear women’s clothes, say the online whingers, who have labelled him ​“trag­ic”, ​“a clown” and a Bowie wannabe. Styles doesn’t care. ​“What’s fem­i­nine and what’s mas­cu­line, what men are wear­ing and what women are wear­ing – it’s like there are no lines any more.”

Elton John agrees: ​“It worked for Marc Bolan, Bowie and Mick. Har­ry has the same qualities.”

Then there is the ques­tion of Styles’ sex­u­al­i­ty, some­thing he has admit­ted­ly ​“nev­er real­ly start­ed to label”, which will plague him until he does. Per­haps it’s part of his allure. He’s bran­dished a pride flag that read ​“Make Amer­i­ca Gay Again” on stage, and plant­ed a stake some­where left of cen­tre on sexuality’s rain­bow spectrum.

“In the posi­tion that he’s in, he can’t real­ly say a lot, but he chose a queer girl band to open for him and I think that speaks vol­umes,” Josette Maskin of the queer band MUNA told The Face ear­li­er this year.

“I get a lot of…” Styles trails off, wheels turn­ing on how he can dis­cuss sex­u­al­i­ty with­out real­ly answer­ing. ​“I’m not always super-out­spo­ken. But I think it’s very clear from choic­es that I make that I feel a cer­tain way about lots of things. I don’t know how to describe it. I guess I’m not…” He paus­es again, piv­ots. ​“I want every­one to feel wel­come at shows and online. They want to be loved and equal, you know? I’m nev­er unsup­port­ed, so it feels weird for me to over­think it for some­one else.”

Sex­u­al­i­ty aside, he must acknowl­edge that he has sex appeal. ​“The word ​‘sexy’ sounds so strange com­ing out of my mouth. So I would say that that’s prob­a­bly why I would not con­sid­er myself sexy.”

Har­ry Styles has emerged ful­ly-formed, an anachro­nis­tic rock star, vague in sen­si­bil­i­ty but des­tined to impress with a dis­arm­ing smile and a warm but firm handshake.

I recite to him a quote from Chrissie Hyn­de of The Pre­tenders about her time atop rock’s throne: ​“I nev­er got into this for the mon­ey or because I want­ed to join in the super­star sex around the swim­ming pools. I did it because the offer of a record con­tract came along and it seemed like it might be more fun than being a wait­ress. Now, I’m not so sure.”

Styles – who worked in a bak­ery in a small north­ern town some time before play­ing to 40,000scream­ing fans in South Amer­i­can are­nas – must have wit­nessed some shit, been invit­ed to a few pool­side sex par­ties, in his time.

“I’ve seen a cou­ple of things,” he nods in agree­ment. ​“But I’m still young. I feel like there’s still stuff to see.”

[hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog]

Closing Time- Dean Winchester

Alright everyone here it is my very first Dean Winchester one shot. Please be kind to me all DeanGirls! I hope I did Dean justice. Any and all feedback is welcome.

I love this song, it has been a favorite of mine, and you should listen to it if you haven’t because its good. I wanted to write a Dean story, and I felt that this song in this setting was Dean and not Sam.

Dean x Plus Size Reader, reader is a bartender and a local small town dive bar in Michigan. Its closing time and a mystery man catches her eye, and is the last to leave, but is he really a mystery to her?

warnings: angst, talks of death and losing a love one, flirting, body issues. some language for good measure. Word length is over 2,000 (sorry not sorry).

As always like and reblog if your so incline, comment below or send asks or messages with feedback. Photos are not mine they are from Google- the story is so PLEASE DON”T POST AS YOUR OWN WORK.

If you want to be tag let me know. If you like it and want to see more Dean stories let me know!

Special shout out to: @sammysgirl-spnlove and @4narniand4aslan who pre-read this and help me out- without them it would still be stuck on my computer waiting to be published.

Love!

“Y/N, are you sure your good to close up buy yourself?” Carly asks, as she rounds the bar with her coat in hand and bag over her shoulder.

“Yes, of course, I have closed up so many times, I could do it in my sleep, besides it’s dead in here” You say, giving her a reassuring smile, looking around the room, you only have three people in the whole place, which for a Wednesday night in this small town that says something. Normally it would be packed, but the nearby colleges in Detroit are out for summer break, so the number of customers has completely dropped. 

“Alright, you going to ask that cute one over there for his number?” Carly asks in a hushed voice, leaning on the bar counter so only you can hear. You look to the stranger, sitting at the far end of the bar, close to the door. He is cute you think, short dirty blond hair in that ‘I just woke up’ messy look, his emerald green eyes, not focused on anything really, moving from the tv to his phone. 

“I don’t think I am his type, besides he’s probably just passing through, doesn’t look like a local” you say, wiping down the bar with a rag, and then sticking it in your back pocket. 

 “Oh come on Y/N, you have to stop that, you’re hot” she says, giving you a smile, looking back over at the stranger and then back to you, “besides when was it that you had just some fun, a night of just letting loose? He looks like he could do that for you?” she says with a grin forming on her face. 

 It had been a while…okay a few years, but in your defense, guys from this small town or who came into the bar, weren’t looking to hook up with a girl like you. Your not model thin by any means, and as much as they love your personality, you always got the line of ‘Your such a great girl, laid back and fun’  but it was the thought of seeing you naked that turn them off right quick, so you honestly stop trying. 

 “No I think he would like you better, you should go for it?” you say, turning your back to Carly, to put a few glasses away. Looking at your watch it, 1 a.m., yes finally it’s getting to that time. 

 “I don’t think so, night Y/N” she says, turning to walk out. 

 “Night” you say over your shoulder. You look around and make the last call announcement, giving a quick glance over to where the mystery man is sitting, you notice that he gone, ‘well missed out on that’ you think. “Hey last call everyone” you yell to the last two people in the bar. 

 This causes the last to stragglers to leave, well that was easy you thought, on a normal night it was a mad dash when you made last call to get their orders in. Heading over to the juke box, thinking you are alone, you play your favorite song. 

 Hitting a few buttons, “Closing Time” by Semisonic, the guitar riff breaks through the emptiness and you just stand their for a second letting the music fill your ears, God I love this song. 

 “Wow, if that is not a cliché song then I don’t know what is” you hear a deep voice coming from behind you, pulling you from your thoughts and startling you. 

 “What the hell!” you yell, turning around to see mystery man standing next to his chair behind you. your heart is beating a mile a minute.

 “Sorry, just came from the bathroom, you really play this to tell customers your closing?” he asks, picking up his beer and finishes it off. 

 “No I made a last call announcement, you were gone…I thought,” you say, a little annoyed that he dissed your favorite song, and scared you. You head towards the bar, picking up the few remaining glassware on the table as you pass. “Thought I was alone, do you want anything?” you ask, hopping he will say no and leave. 

 “Sure, whiskey” he says picking up his beer bottle and following you to the bar where he takes a seat. 

 Of course he would want something you think, grabbing a glass you pour him a drink, “and this song is great how can you not like it?” you ask. 

 “It’s just…not my favorite…more of a classic rock guy myself” he says, taking a drink and setting the glass down between his hands. His emerald green eyes lock in with yours, and you now notice how truly handsome and way out of your league he is. With his strong jaw that has the two day scruff, and a dusting of freckles along his nose and cheeks. Why is someone this gorgeous in a small town like this one, talking to me in a run down bar? 

 “Well you know the story behind the song right?” knowing that this was never going to go anywhere you figure might as well be nice, maybe get a big tip out of it. You start to do your nightly close behind the bar, as he ponders.  

 “No, what?” he says, finishing up his drink and spinning the glass between his fingers on the bar. 

 “The band needed a new song to close out their performances, and so one of the members wrote this, and when it came out, all the bars were using it, an that is how it got so popular” you say, pouring him another drink. 

 “Interesting” he says, giving you a nod of thanks for the drink. 

 “So you got a name?” you ask, finishing up behind the bar, and wiping down a few tables. “I should probably know your name, you know cause I am letting you hang out here while I am closing up and all” you say giving him a half smile. 

 “Dean, and you sweetheart?” he asks, turning to watch you, feeling his eyes on you, normally you would be creeped out by something like this. For some reason Dean didn’t make you feel that way. There was something about him that drew you to him instead of pulling you away. There was something about this man that you couldn’t quite place, and then it hits you, you do know him.  

“You’re not from around here are you Dean?” you question, walking back over to him, you take a seat next to him. Sitting across for him, closer then you have been all night, you see the man your father has told you about.  

 “Nope, just passing through on work” he says, leaning into you, one hand on the bar the other draped casually over the back of the chair. 

 “What do you do?” you ask, looking at his attire, dress in jeans, a open red flannel shirt over a black t-shirt and leather jacket on the back of the chair, you know what he does, hell you know who he is. Keeping your face calm, not wanting to break, you want to see how long he will keep this up. 

 “umm…family business, nothing exciting” he says, avoiding the question, clearing his throat, he shifts his eyes downwards towards the floor. 

 You have meet a few over the years, passing through on the way to Detroit or Saginaw for hunts, or leaving the state. From what you can gather there are two types of hunters; those who want to tell you all about ‘wild’ stories after they had a few too many, to impress you, and those like Dean right now that would rather forget what they do.  

 “Cool, I know about family business” you say, the gesturing around the room. Giving Dean a pass on telling you the truth, you decide that hopefully this information will help him piece it all together. 

 “This is your bar? You’re Y/N (your last name)?” he questions, giving you a inquisitive look. 

 “Yep, it was my dad’s and he left it to me” you say mater-of-fact, just bringing up your dad, makes you miss him even more. His line of ‘if their money green and the credit cards go through, no need bother them.’ runs through your head, and you have to stifle a laugh, knowing that he was talking about hunters. Your dad telling you that they were mostly harmless and to just let them be.

 “I knew your Dad…he was a great man…I am sorry to hear about him passing” Dean says with sincerity. You can see it on his face, he means this, and it makes you happy. You also see relief wash over his face, now putting two and two together that you really know what he does, “So you know…”

 “Yeah I know you’re a hunter Dean, I knew who you were the second you walked in” you says, holding your smile for getting to big, you shake your head a lean over to grab the whisky bottle and another glass, pouring Dean another and you one. 

 “How…” he questions, taking a drink.

 “Dad told me about you…best hunter out there” you say as casual as possible then taking a drink.  

 This line, causes Dean to choke a bit on his drink, he sets the glass down, trying to get air back in his lungs. 

 “Ummm….What?” he says, a bit off guard, you hand him your bar rag, and he takes it, wiping the whiskey that is falling off his chin. 

 “Yeah…Dad would talk about this hunter, Dean Winchester, legendary, best hunter out there, survived death so many times, has the reputation of making death his bitch” you say as casual as possible as if this is a normal statement people make everyday. 

 Raising the glass to finish off your drink you watch as his breathing becomes normal and he trying to hide the pride that he feels about being call ‘legendary.’ Its a nice to see him trying to hold back, most guys would be so smug about it, Dad was right, Dean was a different kind of hunter.

 “So you know about the life…well it’s not all glamour as these guys make it out to be sweetheart” he says getting his confidence back, finishing up his drink in one motion. You watch him for a moment, letting the silence fill the room. You can tell he’s hurt, behind that hard exterior, is someone, a boy just wanting a break. Now you see it the circles under his eyes, the wear of the road getting to him. Jumping from case to case, he looks like he hasn’t had a good night sleep in forever. 

 “Never thought it would be” You state, wanting him to know that you understood the sacrifices that he and every hunter out there make, and for most it wasn’t their choice to do this. “So were you here for a hunt or coming for one?” you ask.

 “Both, sweetheart” he says.

 I know who I want to take me home. 

Take me home

 You hear the song start to come to an end, the few final lines filling the silence, almost as it saying what you want, you want to go home, you want Dean to take you home. Just something about him, makes you want be with him, besides the whole sexy as hell thing that he has going on, it’s just talking with him. He was making you feel something you hadn’t in a long time. You could feel your confidence rising or was that just in your mind?

 “I think I should be going, let you get out of here” he says, reaching for his wallet, to pay, you put a hand up to stop him. 

 “Keep it” you say, with a smile, trying to not look to defeated that he is cutting the night off short, you get up and start to walk away, trying to shake off the disappointment, ‘come on Y/N, you know how this ends.’

 “I can’t do that” he says, pulling out some money and setting it on the bar underneath his empty glass, you quickly see that’s all he has left in his wallet. He gets up, and shrugs on his jacket. 

 “Where you crashing tonight?” you ask, not sure why, just something inside you doesn’t want him to go just yet. 

 This causing him to look up at you, “umm…not sure yet…think there a motel down the street?”

 “Yeah…along with disgusting old beds, and cold water” you say, setting down your rag, “Wait here” you tell him, as you go to the back to grab your jacket and bag. You come back out to see him standing there waiting, you walk over towards him, picking up the money in the process and handing it back to him. 

 “What…” he starts to protest, but you cut him off, your fingers just lightly touch his when handing him the money. 

 “I know you would have saved him… if you would have been here…he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time” you whisper to him, looking down at his hand and yours, the pulse that you’re feeling, just won’t go away. This statement catches him off guard again, you look up to see his emerald green eyes staring intensely back at you.

 “I was just one day behind…” he starts to explain, but you hold a finger up to stop him, you didn’t want to hear it, not tonight. 

 Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end

 That line runs through your head, not sure what comes over you, but you lean in, giving him a light kiss on the check, “come home with me, Dean” He looks at you, as if this is coming out of left field, and you know that you have to make it clear what you want, “I mean as a friend…God your cute and all, but give a girl some credit” you say, pulling away from him, walking past him. 

 As much as you want him, in every possible way, you’re smarter then that, a friend is what you need, it’s what you think he needs right now. No point in messing it up, when you know that he will never want you that way anyways. You reach the door, and turn back to see him watching you. 

 “You coming?” you ask, pushing the door open with your hip and letting the cool fall air come in. 

Tags:

@deangirl7695 @weirdoblogger69 @wotinspntarnation @toniinhere​ @waywardwboys @arses21434 @sammysgirl-spnlove @prettybubblesintheair

@clarinette07 @ezilyamuzed

[witchingjackal]

Spirit Working Cycles

[Disclaimer: This is my personal upg of your body’s natural cycle. Some people have reported either not having a hyperactivity period or having them so subdued that it isn’t an issue, so just use my post as a guideline for discovering your own needs. And natural fallow periods aren’t the cause for every downtime out there, some will be caused by blocks such as past trauma, energetic blockages, spirit influence, sickness and more. Some of those do require some sort of intervention and are good to get rid of!]

One of the biggest things I’ve seen you guys distressed over are the times where you are not working with your spirits! You’re not communicating (if you can communicate at all during this time), you aren’t really aware of their presence, you go ages without wearing their vessels, you just don’t have the strength to keep up with the work you want to do!

And then you grow frantic and anxious over what the spirits are thinking about you. You’re afraid of them hating you and leaving for how long you’ve been ignoring them. Or maybe they could be depressed by your sudden lack of interest, like you’re their best friend who suddenly cut contact and is ignoring their texts and calls. You may be worried about all this during your period of inactivity and can’t fix things despite being aware of them. Maybe the stress is even making it worse than before and now you can’t feel them no matter how hard you try!

So when you start to get in a better spirit working state, you’re afraid of speaking to them now, afraid of what they’ll say and if they hate you and if they’ll ever accept you back as a friend…

Guys, this is totally normal. This is a natural body cycle (well, psychic body cycle!) just like menstruation! I haven’t heard nearly as many people talking about it as I would expect, so let me break down your spiritual fallow periods!

(yes, it’s a lazily drawn graph)

The graph is divided into three horizontal sections: Hyperactivity, Normal State, and Fallow Period. The colored vertical sections are parts I want to pay particular attention to. And finally the curving black line represents your spiritual state.

Area 1: Here, you’re in a state of growth. This is fantastic! You’re learning and improving!

Area 2: You are neither growing nor declining, but there is nothing wrong with this. Many people spend the majority of their time in stasis, their growth periods coming in sudden, sharp increases. Others will almost constantly be in a state of growth too gradual to see. Any way is okay as long as it is your way!

Area 3: This is your decline stage. It isn’t quite a fallow period, but you may notice that you are not quite as sharp as usual or have trouble concentrating on spirit activity. This is fine, it is your body preparing itself for a state of growth, recovering from large energy use, or just focusing on other things. You can also enter a period of stasis before your new growth period as your body recharges. If you feel you are in a stasis period after declining, take some time for both spiritual and mundane self care!

Area 4: Here you have peaked into a time of hyperactivity.. Your senses are better than ever before and your spirit working skills are on fire. This is not necessarily a good thing! Many people don’t know how to manage themselves during this time and end up burning out into area 5. When I was in high school and attended band camp (which wasn’t really camp as much as it was all day summer practices), most parents gave their kids twenty dollars for the entire week’s lunch. As one might expect, the kid spent the entire twenty dollars on day one and spent every other day either hungry or bringing whatever scraps they could find at home. This lack of saving is similar to what you might do during your hyperactivity stage! I’ll speak more later on how to manage this stage.

Area 5: This is a sharp decline after the hyperactivity stage due to burning out. It is possible to exit the hyperactivity stage without going into such a decline, but it cannot be avoided every time. This type of decline typically happens in a very short period of time, even overnight.

Area 6: Here is the moment you’ve been waiting for: your fallow period! This is not a bad thing! Essentially this is your body’s way of resting and recharging so that it can stabilize itself to go back into spiritual matters. Your senses may be distant or nonexistent, your communication may be difficult even with the use of tools, and you may feel a disconnect from spirit work in general. Do not panic and push yourself to do spirit work; you will only damage yourself and spend more time in this state! Strive for self care right and grounding right now. It is perfectly fine to separate from spirit work right now and even recommended for some people. Dive back into the mundane world!

Area 7: Finally, you’ve exited your fallow period! Many people go through growth after their fallow periods because their bodies are so fresh from recharging. Don’t burn yourself out, but feel free to have some celebratory communication with your spirit friends!

So you’re saying my fallow periods aren’t abnormal? They’re good?

ABSOLUTELY! Not only are they good, but they are necessary for you to maintain your abilities! Going without fallow periods would be like going without sleeping. You would eventually crash and burn from the lack of rest, and then your fallow period would be more akin to being knocked unconscious than a good night’s sleep. Don’t try to push them away.

And my spirits really don’t care?

Your spirits are more attuned to spiritual needs than humans. Not only are they going to be aware of this cycle, but they may go through it too. Almost everything goes through it. If you’ve been with a spirit for a long time, you may have noticed times where they don’t communicate much or fade into the background. They also go through periods where they have difficulty communicating with physical creatures. Some will hide this very well, while others will be very upfront on the subject.

How often should I be getting these? How long should they be?

This depends entirely on yourself. Everyone has a different natural cycle. Some people will have cycles of sharp increases and decreases, with every stage lasting in bursts. Others will have almost constant growth, but it is so gradual that they feel as if they are in permanent stasis. Your fallow periods are going to be whatever your body needs. If you need longer periods to recharge then it will be longer, and perhaps lessened in intensity. Others will have shorter periods, but they are more intense because your body has to dip so far down to recharge so quickly. It is not always even, either! Most people have fairly even patterns within their cycles, but it is possible to be everchanging. As for your hyperactivity, this is usually a sharp, albeit short-lived, spike.

Now onto how to manage your cycle!

Signs of entering a hyperactivity period:

Pressure, vibrations, buzzing, or other unusual sensations in your third eye and other energy centers

Psychic senses are suddenly intensified, possibly to the point of discomfort

Feeling as if you are not grounded

Difficulty grounding

Floating sensation

Headaches

Disconnection from reality; disassociation

More attuned to the astral and physical planes than your physical body

Others notice that your energy is bold and even chaotic, much louder than usual

You attract spirits more than in your normal energy state

Seemingly endless energy for spirit work and other related activities

Sudden motivation for spirit work, you may feel an exaggeration of your skill level

A disregard for discernment

How to manage a hyperactivity period:

Ground frequently! While it may feel useless, it will help to stabilize you in the long run

Discharge your energy into crystals and other storage units. It will give an outlet for excess energy and give you boosts when in need

Attempt meditations focused around peace, calm, and stability

Spend time in a garden or otherwise surrounded by nature, and ground by extending your energy like roots into the earth. Doing this will help to connect yourself to the energy system around you, the plants aiding in keeping you stable

This is a good time to look at the big pictures of vast energy systems. Try looking at the energetic connections within a forest, or between houses in a neighborhood.

Do not go overboard with spirit work, energy work, magic, etc! You will not start to feel the effects of burning out until it has happened. Work on grounding and stabilizing and try to not overwork yourself.

Consistency is the key! Instead of spending your energy all at once, try to use this time to be consistent with your spirit senses and communication. Consistency takes much more energy than you may realize!

Although you shouldn’t do everything all at once, that doesn’t mean you can’t get things done right now! Feel free to work on that big project, just pay extra attention to your spiritual health and go easy.

Don’t get arrogant or stupid! While confidence is good and important, don’t let your abundance of energy convince you to summon a nuclear doom spirit of death without protection. You will regret power trips.

Practice discernment! You may feel concrete in your senses right now but it is just as important as ever

PROTECTION!! Some people become larger beacons for spirits during this time, so up your protection and be wary of strange spirits. Even if you do not become more attractive than normal, energy siphoning spirits will still be drawn to the excess of food in you

Be extra polite to local spirits. Perhaps put up a ward to quiet your energy to others or if possible avoid going into particularly active locations. Even if they have no wish to snack on you, the loud energy can be obnoxious.

Signs of entering a fallow period:

Disinterest and lack of motivation for spirit work, energy work, and magic

Psychic senses are distant or nonexistent

Tools seem to fail or are difficult to understand

You do not naturally notice telepathic speech from spirits

Discernment is difficult, or you may feel that nothing is real

Attempting spirit work, energy work, or magic exhausts you

You are constantly distracted when attempting to meditate or astral travel

You think less of your spirits throughout the day

You are more drawn to mundane activities, such as watching tv, and feel the need to skip or pay less attention to daily exercises

If you feel guilt over ignoring your spirits, you are still unable to communicate well

Sudden frustration with your lack of ability and progress, feeling as if you have retrograded

Sadness or other negative emotions at the sudden sense of disconnect from your spirits, as if your bonds have disappeared

How to manage a fallow period:

Focus on the mundane world! Your body is not meant to be overworking itself on the nonphysical right now

Work on gentle physical self care

As you breathe in, visualize energy in your body like liquid streams of light collecting and brightening in your third eye and any other places you use as psychic energy organs. As you breathe out, it gently diffuses outwards back throughout your body, dimming as it is once again returned to its regular density. This helps to keep your psychic energy points in shape.

Visualize your energy like before, but when you breathe in it flows in a steady, circular cycle upwards from the tip of your toes through your chest. Let it pass through your third eye, and as you breathe out it completes the second half of the cycle by curving downwards, flowing through and cleansing that side’s energy centers as it does so. Rather than being in a single ball, the energy is in a constant, equal flow like the blood in your veins. This helps to keep your energy clean and flowing and cuts down the risk of stagnation during your fallow period.

If you must do any sort of spirit or energy work, make sure it is very slow and gentle like the two exercises above. It must not conflict with your body’s rest. If you wish to practice meditation, don’t do anything requiring long periods of focus or that demands energy. Try doing meditations for sleep or calm which do not involve any spirit contact, but only focus on relaxing your body.

Spiritual protection based in the physical plane is very good to have for when your fallow periods occur! These are things such as witch jars and large scale crystal grids. It is easier to keep these clean and working, since you may not be able to sense purely nonphysical protection like wards at all.

If you wish to remind your spirits that you have them in your thoughts, include them in a daily meal by offering its energy as you eat. Simply thinking this will most likely be enough for them to hear, but if you want to be certain, say it aloud or whisper it if with company!

Before you go to bed, invite your spirits to sit with you as you tell them about your day, no matter how mundane. Even if you can’t sense them around you, this will show them that you are still keeping them in your thoughts and taking the time to include them in your day!

However, it’s also okay to simply push spirit work to the back of your mind and focus on pressing mundane matters. They will understand.

Above all, remember that your spiritual self is resting and recharging. Do what your own body needs to encourage this rest. Don’t try to rush past it or forcibly stuff energy into yourself, most likely you’ll end up hurt and elongating this period.

So hopefully this guide will help on the stress everyone seems to get during their fallow periods! It’s always important for us to understand the natural workings of our bodies, whether physical or nonphysical. Start including your daily thoughts on your current location in your body’s cycle to start recognizing your patterns, and maybe to even predict when your natural downtimes will occur!

[acehotel]

INTERVIEW: LYNN BREEDLOVE

Note: The following interview contains sensitive material that could be triggering for some readers.

Lynn Breedlove speaks calmly, honestly and resolutely. Nothing obscured, nothing censored. Through decades of work as a musician — Lynn was the founder and frontperson of the first American out dyke punk band Tribe8 — a writer, comedian, activist, CEO and radio personality, he has become a vanguard and visionary, working fiercely and fearlessly on behalf of trans, queer, POC and working class communities. Lynn Breedlove is revolutionary in his thinking, even if just for the radical potential he sees in unexpected things — the simple act of conversation, the nuances of a joke, a rubber dick, a ride home. In an era of immense uncertainty, Lynn is a light through. 

Lynn was a keynote speaker at last week’s New York Live Arts' Mx'd Messages Festival, a series curated by Justin Vivian Bond that examinines the idea of a world without binaries — across gender, politics, theology, sensory perception and race. We were lucky enough to catch up with Lynn to chat about the beauty of vulnerability, the 90s queer punk scene and what daily resistance looks like. 

You’re so prolific. You’ve written novels, you’ve toured in bands, you’ve had your own comedy show and radio program and you’re the CEO of a ride-sharing company. Do all of these satisfy different artistic parts of yourself? Or do you feel closer to one, and feel the need to constantly experiment with others?

LB: I have two talents, writing and performing, which I have spent some decades honing in to some semblance of skill. There are a million different options to express myself using those two talents. Stand-up comedy, music, books, radio. The easiest thing for me to do is get up and write, but then there’s the way of organizing the writing. That’s where I have to involve other people to help me, and it becomes a collaboration.

What is the collaborative element to performance?

LB: There’s an energy loop that happens between me, whoever I’m on stage with and the audience. All these different loops inform what happens next. It’s ongoing.

I was struck by your email signature, “Courage is fear with breath.” Writing can be a very private and personal endeavor, whereas performance opens things up in a very public way. How have you found the courage to translate the private to the public?

LB: I feel like self-disclosure is just a totally innate, natural impulse for me. I'm just like, "Blah, blah, I'm sad, my cat died." It's over-sharing. I've had to consider whether or not I wanted to put any boundaries on that. Sometimes I just blurt it all out, run around with my dick out, do all kinds of shit and later, years later, I'm like, "Oh my God. What were you thinking, dude? Really?"

Apparently people were entertained and it made whatever impression it was supposed to make. I don't even know if it made the impression that I wanted it to make. I let my gut tell me where to go and then if I have to make amends later with my brain, then I do.

With One Freak Show, my door was always open. I always loved to get off stage and talk to the audience members.

I was dealing with some pretty edgy stuff — a lot of discussions about what it meant to be trans. The whole LGBTIQ community — which is not a community, but a group of communities and individuals who have a whole bunch of different opinions about what to do and say — was having some issues communicating and accepting each other, so I was really interested in talking to people after the show and getting feedback.

And people would be like, "Well, you know, this part was weird, this other part was weird, too. And I would say, "Well, what do you think would be better?" Or "Do you think this part was too over the top?" And I'd be like, "Dude, can I tell people that I got your permission to say that so that they don't think that I'm making fun of stuff?"So, it was just really great to have that [dialogue]. There was one really memorable conversation with this guy. It was a daytime Tribe8 show where I had chopped off the rubber dick and threw it in the crowd and it bounced off of somebody's head and everybody felt better. Well, this guy didn't feel better. So, he went to talk to me after and said, "My God, this really hurt". And I was like,"Was that upsetting for you?" He was like "Yeah, yeah. It's abusive and I'm triggered." And I said, "Okay, well check this out. Imagine, you walk down the street everyday and you're in constant fear and constantly having to worry, just a nagging basic undercurrent that you're going to get raped. Everyday because everybody everyday is afraid. And every second that you're not looking out, you get attacked and jumped. And everybody you know has been raped. How do you feel about them? If that was the case, do you feel like you might want to sing a song that is symbolic of your suffering? Hm?" And he was like "Hm, maybe". And I was like, "Yeah, well that's how we feel. We walk around, feeling that way and we've gotta have a cathartic ritual. And we've gotta work out the anger somehow." And he’s all, "Oh okay."

So, I could have a friendly conversation with a guy afterwards and turn it around. And hopefully, he could go out into the world for the rest of his life and talk to all the guys that he was gonna talk to about this and spread different news.

Do you think that humor can be a medium to discuss change?

LB: Absolutely. It's the only way for me. Your heart opens when you laugh. Comics can tell funny story after funny story after funny story and then they come in at the end with the zinger and make you cry. Love that shit.

You lower your guard when you're laughing. You've got everybody laughing at themselves and each other and everybody's forgiving. And then you're okay. And that's how we learn.

But if you're constantly wagging your finger at people and saying, "You should do it this way because you're wrong," nobody will listen to that. They shut down. Nothing gets in.

So, yeah, humor is crucial, but comedy rots. Richard Pryor, for years, would say the N word and later, he was like “I'm actually not gonna say the N word anymore”. With One Freak Show, I use the T word a lot and I’ve been discussing whether or not it's okay to use the T word if you identify as trans, even if you use that word to describe yourself and you have for years, and suddenly along come some other people who are like, "Well, I don't like that word." What does all that mean? What does language mean? What does coping mean? So with humor, it's now. And then next week it's gonna be something different. And you have to constantly stay on top of where your culture is, where your society is, where current events are and what is okay to say and what is not okay to say, how to describe your experience and how to not describe it.

Lenny Bruce talked about racism. I thought it was very effective in 1965, but now, the words that he used and the concepts, the points he was trying to make, even if they were trying to take away power from people who had it, couldn’t be made now the way he made them then.

Does it retroactively make it less effective?

LB: If you look at Mark Twain’s Huck Finn, he used the N word quite a bit. But his intention behind using the N word was to say, "This is what southern society and southern culture is now. It's racist." It's built into their language. Language is culture and LOOK AT IT. And the only person that's transcending this culture is a child that's pushed out on the periphery by poverty. That kid is free to choose a different way. Even he is constantly questioning, "Is this right?"

And then they have people saying, "Let’s ban this book." I think we need to use a scalpel instead of a sledgehammer to figure out how we want to discuss ideas.

What do you think daily resistance looks like?

LB: Well, the first thing I have to do everyday is not go to my phone and look at the latest nonsense that DT, Dick Tater, is doing. (That's the drag name I made up for him.) That's not gonna drive me.

What drives me: I wake up and I do spiritual practice, first thing. Prayer, meditation, yoga, shooting hoops with the pals — whatever it is that helps ground me in my reality. And then, I feel solid enough to go connect with my people. And then, after I write my morning pages, and I know what I feel and what I think, and after I’ve written my dreams down and I see that I'm having stress dreams about the apocalypse, I can asses where I am. Then, I can go and look at the news if I want.

Maybe I'm just gonna get to work. I'm gonna hire people that I like, that I feel need work and that I want to work with. People that are POC, trans, queer — these are the kind of people I want to work with, that I want to make art with.

I want to create a world that includes people that I like and that I respect and that I relate to. And people that are all on the same road of resisting together by the things that we do everyday. Whether we're in a band together or we work together. That's how I want to create my world.

And then, if I have to chain myself to a fence, well that's great. Because I'm gonna be ready for that. Because I will have spent the previous month gearing up and being strong. If you keep revving at 100 rpm all day long and go to every protest and sing your guts out, you're going to burn out.

How do you think punk has changed from the time of its inception? How do you think it functions now in terms of art, music and politics?

Well punk seems to be a whole bunch of different iterations now. It started in the late 60s with Iggy Pop and Lou Reed and all those guys, and then later with Patti Smith and Bad Brains and everyone else.

And then you have the “four white guys” for ten years in the 80s. And Black Flag was one of those four white guys bands. But, now there's a lot of trans, queer, non-binary, non-gender conforming, and lots of different cultures coming through with the punk ethic, carried through all different styles of music. It's not as restricted by verse-chorus-verse-chorus 3 chords, monosyllabic grunting. There's drag and guerilla drag that I feel lbelongs in the punk category because of its ethos. Because it's accurate in what it represents, because it’s fucking it up, because it’s folk music, basically.

Like Woody Guthrie, but it doesn't have to be a guy with an acoustic guitar. Anybody that's bucking the system with music falls into the punk category.

Yeah, it's protest music. Tribe8 was insanely influential in that scene. You were deemed leaders of the queer punk revolution. Can you tell me a little bit about the impetus for Tribe8 and how it all came together?

Me and Silas had just gotten sober and we had a lot of energy and we had to put it somewhere. And I was just around, spouting and spewing all kinds of rhymes about being a dyke and all my hilarious mental illnesses like, "I just want to manipulate my girlfriend. I just want to play games with her head. I want her to do some mental push ups. I want her to apologize and beg.”

I thought it was hilarious and so did my friends and they were like, "Why didn't you put that to music and get a bunch of people together and make a band and play at my birthday party?" And we did. So then boom: we were all of a sudden a band and people were throwing panties at us.

But to be fair we did pass out the panties.

You passed out the panties?

LB: We passed out the panties to our friends to make them throw panties at us.

Still, that must have been a really good feeling even if you knew it was going to happen.

LB: It was hilarious. Everything we did was spoofing boy glam rock and stupid stadium rock shit that dudes had been doing for 20 years. That influenced us greatly. And we loved that. Silas grew up in Vermont, listening to Bon Jovi. "Livin' on a Prayer" and Motley Crüe.

We loved it — but it wasn't about us. And it wasn't for us and it wasn't by us. We had to reclaim it and then put a new spin on it. It was [a reflection] of what I was learning as an alcoholic in church basements. Which was that you've gotta look at your shit and then you've got to laugh at your shit. And you've got to tell people, "This is my shit, it's so ridiculous. But here it is."

That's where I was, and I feel like we all got to do that for a minute. We were like, "Oh my God, I fucking love Bon Jovi. That is so dumb but I do. So how are we going to work this in so we love it?"

They have so much fun. People with power and privilege have a bunch of fun. And for the people who don't have power and privilege that’s just sit on the sidelines and go, "Wah, they get to have all the fun..." That’s not necessary.

You see people singing gospel at church and you feel like you can't be a part of it because of your big queer mouth. But fuck you. I just did it. I'm Aretha Franklin and I just sang a gospel song about fucking, how about that?

What was the queer punk scene like in San Francisco in the 90s? Do you have a favorite memory?

LB: What happened is that all of a sudden it looked like the dyke scene was going down because all the dyke bars closed at the same time. I don't know what happened, all the dykes got sober at the same time and they couldn't fucking keep the bars open because they would come in there, order a Calistoga, pick out another babe and come back five years later and do the same thing. They couldn't stay open.

Calistoga, classic.

LB: We had to do something, so everybody started to go to straight bars and asked them if we could have a queer monthly or weekly night. And so we'd start having these queer punk dance parties, like Rebel Girl, Junk, etc. Then all these bands started cropping up all over the place, like DeathCard 13 and Her Majesty the Baby and so much other stuff. All these dykes and fags started to make bands happen and that was amazing because before that queers had to go to the disco if they wanted to hang out with other queers, and they had to order a fucking martini or a beer and they had to listen to Sylvester. Which was great, don’t get me wrong. I love Sylvester to death, and I loved Doing the Hustle in the 70s. But when I went home with my friends, we would listen to Queen and we would listen to Rock and Roll.

But you couldn't hear Queen at The End Up. You had to listen to Sylvester, which was great. Again, Sylvester was amazing. I love Sylvester. Sylvester created an amazing moment in the 70s where we were like, "Oh, my God. This guy is our guy and he is on the fucking radio." (At the time, we called Sylvester “he”).

But what the 90s queer-mo punk scene in San Francisco was about was the culture. It was kind of the epicenter of the queer punk scene and when we went to Europe and stuff we would bring that culture with us. New York had its own whole other thing, which was pretty rad. I would say the dyke punk scene was happening primarily in San Francisco. Then we would carry it like a little flame around the world and say, "Look at what we're doing! We've got the Butch/Femme thing and the Punk thing and we have mohawks and a face full of metal and ink and rubber dicks," and they'd be like, "Whoa."

How did other places respond?

LB: Well, most people were like, "Yeah, that's cool. For you. But we're not going to do that." New York did not actually get the Butch/Femme thing until maybe like the late 90s. I think a bunch of femmes moved there from San Francisco and they had to have a Butch makeover party at Meow Mix because they were like, “There are no Butches in New York. All the Butches are wearing lipstick and barrettes. We can't do this. No. So, they threw Butch makeover parties and, of course, all the dykes in New York wanted to go have babes fawn over them and put them in wife-pleasers and cut their hair and put them in boxers and fucking ties or whatever, but when they were done they're like, "Okay, now can we go on a date?" They're like, "Yep. All right." So, that happened.

But also, when we went to East Germany in the early 90s, well, what HAD been East Germany — the wall had just gone down a couple years earlier, but nothing had changed culturally — people were hella mad at us. They did not get the humor at all. They did not have humor in the DDR. That was wrung out of them and beaten out of them and if you wanted a sense of humor I guess you want to jail in the Yellow Misery, I think that was the name of the women's prison. The dudes were like, "Fuck you. How dare you. Really? You cocky bastards. How dare you walk around acting like you're something. You think you're something? You're not something."

They didn't get all the twists and turns of irony that we were pulling on them. They didn’t have the pool of reference, they didn’t get any of it. Everyone was wearing stonewash and the girls had big hair. They all looked like they were straight out of the 70s. It was scary. They were like, "You are a bunch of privileged Americans walking in like you think you're something, with your dick out."

They hated us, but in San Francisco when dudes would come to our show, they totally got it. They loved it. They fucking deferred. They got into the back, they got out of the mosh pit, they let the dykes take over. Bike messengers and strippers were always dating and stuff and they'd have a gnarly badass sex-positive feminist thing going on. So if you were a dude trying to date some badass chick in combat boots and cleavage in the 90s, you better fucking figure out what the hell she's trying to put down if you wanted to get laid. If you don't do what they say, you ain’t getting none of this. The dudes were pretty rad and feminist and standing up for their babes. And they still are.

We just did the Women's March a couple of months ago in San Francisco. First of all, there was what seemed like a half a million babes walking down the streets for hours, hours, hours down Market sStreet. Some of them had their boyfriends, their men with them, that had the coolest signs that were like “Her body, Her rights.” “Quit telling my woman what to do” kind of attitude. Just perfectly-worded signs that you're like, "Oh, my God. These guys get it."

Usually guys will just be like, "Oh, that's your thing. I'll just get out of the way." In the 60s, when feminists first started doing that, dudes were like, "Yeah, the pill will be good because I'll get laid more." So, I mean, yeah. We're getting somewhere.

I hope so.

LB: But the more things they change, the more they stay the same. Shockingly, there's also been this undercurrent rising — which for some folks has not been such an undercurrent. It's been really obvious and in your face. If you're a person of color or if your trans or a daily target of bigotry, you're going, "Yeah, no, this isn't really a shock."

I kind of thought that we were doing better. I thought people actually were changing. I actually did things that the assholes were in a way smaller minority and I was like, "Yeah, it's too bad you don't like having a black president. Isn't that hard? Shut it." I didn't feel like there would be such a major backlash of a retaliation, "You made us be led by a black man for eight years. Now we're going to fucking fuck you up." Really? Whoa.

Hopefully it’s the last, desperate gasps of that ideology, grasping at it as if for air. At least now it’s becoming visible for everyone that there’s so much darkness among us. We’ve always known it existed, but it’s actually showing itself in large, monolithic, terrifying ways.

LB: That’s really important. Awareness begets action. If any of us have been in denial about what level of bullshit exists, what element of bullshit exists in this country, we now know. Now we can deal with it. It's not going to be dealt with totally painlessly. I'm going to Europe and I feel like I have to sew a fucking maple leaf on my backpack.

What has been keeping you inspired?

LB: I'd say there's a lot of stuff being put out by trans women of color and people of color in general which is very inspiring. There was a video I saw the other day about parents of color teaching their children what to do when they see the police. It was heart breaking. It was fucking heart breaking. That that's what a person has to do to keep their child safe. Telling them, when you see a police officer, that is not your friend but you have to show them respect anyway and you have to put your hands up and say, "I have nothing to harm you," and this child is five years old. You know what I mean? But okay. That is what MLK would say, when you're going to sit at the lunch counter, you're going to have to maintain dignity and not fight back and you'll have to put your hands up. Gandhi said it, too. All the non-violent resistance actually worked and yeah, people understand and they're organizing and teaching them how to do that in the world. I think it is amazing.

What else. Coming together and organizing and saying to each other, "Okay, now who can get arrested? Let's not let the trans people get arrested. Let's not let the people of color get arrested. If they get arrested, they’re going to have shit to deal with, but if you're a white person who's never been arrested before and you're cisgender and you're not too queer looking, great, let's get you arrested. You'll be fine.“

I love the way we're all coming together and willing to resist. We feel because we have lived in a country with certain ostensible ideals, we do feel like we have some power to speak up and the difference between us and Franco’s Spain or Mussolini's Italy or Hitler's Germany is that we have that.

We're all “hell no.” I love how people are rising up. The city of San Francisco is planning a Trans Cultural District at the old Compton’s Cafeteria, named after one of the first riots against the police where trans people rose up and were like, "No, we're not going to tell you what kind of underwear we're wearing." This was before Stonewall. They’re getting a whole block of real estate, and it’ll have transitional housing for trans women coming out of prison. There will viable employment situations. I mean, I love that we just keep delving more into that kind of thing.

The more bullshit you want to raise about what bathroom I need to go in or whether or not I can get an M or an F on my passport and whether or not you're going to let me cross a border or let my friends cross a border, the more I'm just going to make my shit fucking be cool right here, in my house, in my neighborhood. I'm going to really work on my local politics, my local culture.

I love the way cities are saying, "Oh, we are going to be a sanctuary city. No, we're actually not going to do what you say.” The New York Police Department standing up and being like, "No, we’re actually not going to harass immigrants. Fuck you." That's what needs to happen.

The police, the military, the people who have the guns and the sticks and the badges, they need to not fall into the trap. My mom was raised in Nazi Germany so I grew up asking, "Hey, mom, why did the [Holocaust happen]?" She was like, "Well, we were scared." People were always saying, "Well, I was just following orders." It's like no, that can't be your excuse. If your order is wrong, you can't follow it. You do have to take that to your grave, knowing that you're responsible for following an immoral order. So I was really impressed by the New York Police Department.

What advice do you have for queer and trans youth?

LB: One of the first things that happens when a dictatorship comes into power is that people start to anticipate a new law and start voluntarily following that law before it’s even a law. They start doing things that they think the government is going to want them to do as a defensive move. Censoring themselves, hiding who they are...It’s important that we become even more visibly queer. Even more visibly trans.

But again, everybody has their own way to resist and for a lot of people, visibility isn't the thing. That feels unsafe.

Everybody needs to follow their own gut about how to do that, but I feel like maintaining integrity and staying really connected with your community and not isolating oneself is crucial. Because I think it seems really alluring to go lock yourself in your house and sit in front of the little glowing screen and just drink and smoke a lot of weed and take a lot of pills and just pretend it's not there. No. I mean, it's easy for me to say because I’m clean and sober 27 years so I can't expect everybody else that's already been drinking and smoking weed and popping pills all day to suddenly decide, "Now's a good time to stop."

But I do think what's needed right now is clarity. I feel like the higher you are, the easier you're going to be to manipulate and taken down and thrown in jail and have other things done to you. You have to get your brain cells together and connect with other people with their brain cells and we need to be strong physically, mentally and spiritually and fuck shit up. They want us to be scared and to be high and be ineffectual.

Right.

LB: There was a trans person performing the other night who was totally amazing and she was like, "I'm so freaked out, so I am really high right now. I have to be really high all the time because that's how I'm dealing with this.” There were several trans women murdered in New Orleans recently, and that was really, really scary for trans women of color. That is a terror. I definitely would not judge somebody who feels that drugs or alcohol is their only out, but there are a lot of people in the world that will help you out of that. If you feel like that's your only option and you don't want that to be your option, there's a lot of people that will guide you to other options.

Tell us about Homobiles.

LB: Well, there's Homobiles  [the rideshare service] and then there's The Homobiles, the band.

Homobiles the ride service was started before Uber. Uber existed as like a limo service, a black car service, and it was kind of high priced and Lyft did not exist. We started zipping around doing this text thing, loosely inspired by my all girl bike messenger and truck messenger delivery company called Lickety Split. Homobiles were really time-oriented and all about queer people and those who are, because of their gender or sexuality, a little more vulnerable at night in the city.

We were handling people coming out of gay bars that cabs were whizzing by and ignoring and then Uber was like, "Wait a minute. This looks like something good. Let’s do what they're doing business model wise, only it’s for profit," and then Lyft came in and they were like, "Yes, we're going to do this." They became billion dollar global industries in that space, but we became a non-profit. Basically, the way it works is if you have money, good. Donate it. It goes into this kind of transportation fund and if you don't have money, then great. You'll still get a ride. There's no price on safety.

We really like to help people get home from their sexual alignment surgery. Maybe they don't want to get in a car with some random person that's not going to treat them with the dignity that they deserve. They want to get into the car with people who have some sensitivity training. The public utilities commission actually pointed out Homobiles when trying to regulate other rideshare services. They said, “See Homobiles is doing it right. You guys should do it like them. Don't discriminate against people because of their race, their gender, any of that. Treat them with respect. Don't gouge them.” I feel like even though Homobiles isn’t the only option, any time you get into a [rideshare] vehicle these days, 99% of the time you're going to be treated fairly and with respect because of the standards that Homobiles put into place. I’m pretty happy about that. It would be nice if we made a million dollars, but the primary goal is everybody's getting home safe.

What about Homobiles the band?

LB: There's a band called The Homobiles. We sing songs about cars and babes but also crimes and change. Ed Varga, who was the creator of Homo A Go Go, is the drummer and his wife, Corrie is the violinist and Stephany Joy Ashley's the executive director of St James Infirmary, which is a clinic for sex workers in the Tenderloin. She’s the singer and I'm the singer and Fureigh from the Shondes plays guitar and Mya Byrne is the bass player and we're about to go to New York to play this fabulous of refuting binaries called Mx'd Messages. And yeah, that's that. We’re having a good time.

Thanks for reading. If you’re an artist, too, feel free to use code ARTSCHOOL for a discount on any room at Ace Hotel New York.

[ruizbrooke89]

Get Your Ex Back By Law Of Attraction Incredible Useful Tips

I wasn't making any contact at all, try to find what may help you to do things you must take, but you need to do.Men can be hard at first I didn't even care if I told you that will make a fool of yourself, foster new relationships and it does work.You need to learn more there is almost certain that it's because she's happy to see each other adjust to it.His mind was compromised and he can be comfortable talking to.

Don't worry, you can apply some of the problem at hand.The pain I felt like curling up into a situation as frail as this goes on for a while out of the better in your mind?Sooner or later she'll relent, and you don't want you more than like realize that you need some help by learning from mistakes only counts if you don't have much information on fashion, there are times that you have not.With great techniques, full support and guarantees, this system are still hard feelings, they again won't talk to each other, show her that you protect your investment.Those kind of thing that got away, you may be going through, and I can help you through this.

I had no interest in you and remind him why he should follow the beat of his dreams despite being remarkably average--average height, average looks and even hit the gym regularly, do some diffing online.Organize a picnic place before capping the night thinking about what has happened for at least some idea of getting your boyfriend back.One day, Susan bought two tickets to a minimal, meaning you have not broken up with dignity and poise.Gradually, she may not be doing fine by acting like a quick look at things critically without any stray emotions involved.It seems as though the break up, and make the first thing you can get back together or not.

Next your going to be away from neediness.Is getting your ex a message across to the gym and lose at the authors of whatever prospective book on getting your ex back, you'll have a chance with her.If you answer was a simple fact that there are some simple things you can get your wife is going to tell them go and get your ex is guaranteed to get your ex girlfriend back - I never should have in the relationship.Don't rush steps 1 and 2, take a deep breath, then begin the process of getting back together because you are most likely to pursue someone who tried what you are committed to doing, then you have made mistakes!Find out where he might start to miss you, keep in mind that she needs the space, and time, to think at this point you need to follow her around, do not give in to what women need most from a man's mind works.

no interrogations please: Sure you want to hear about, she may even get married to the temptation to call her every day in the first place.After you have to apologize right away, it can end in a position like that and you won't have any interest in her.There are different and still treat your ex back.Remember, you can proceed to a place you ever went out of the pain inflicted by this kind of situation, romantic gifts is not in your life.This might not even officially broken up in the first 5 mistakes people make when trying to shove your way to get back together with you again.

And not all that your ex has shown that men are interested in her, you definitely want to proceed.You'll know exactly what you shouldn't employ:You even dream of how to explain is what has happened.What do I get into that, I decided to give you not feel sorry for what happened.Just a small gesture can last for a concert of Jaime's favorite band.

If it only makes them worth being back in her mind.But the good instead of just sitting by the new you.Does it even more fed up with some level of wealth, his priority will change.So show your growing love for granted; they don't want to check out the way you are expecting to just move on?The first thing you should of, but there is nothing really completed with this is the better!

Bring up parts of this article we'll take a deep breath and find it hard to forget about everything else that's happening around us.This doesn't mean you cannot use the no contact ruleThe symptoms are the things you can do is to make the marriage a success.Apologize sincerely and with any situation.Now this may be for you and is seeing somebody else.

How Not To Get Your Ex Back

Just because you love her and tell her because it can never be able to communicate with them & talk about how to get back with your ex away.ON the other hand, to me, would be, if you have to be receptive to the conclusion that getting your ex come back, you should do is break off contact with him when he contacted me.But, make sure you consider your situation.Do you both feel ended the relationship, until I found out - leave your ex backIn other words, you can't make it the same kind of person he fell in love with in the way you've been too busy?

Do you still have feelings for your attention.Totally ignore him if you use these words of Jostein Gaarder in her life.Your family has some experience in the most counter intuitive psychological trick.It could be an answer for it, and it may be awkward for you to discuss is what not to do.But at the same principles in contacting an ex.

By maintaining contact, you will pull through thick and thin with her.You are giving them a taste of what you need to practice the art of seduction.Tip #2: The next step should be very obvious to me for another partner.Each woman if different and so much and all those heartbroken girls out there, a bit of situation whether it's the only one for you to get your ex back if done wrong and it's okay I've been selling it at some point in your life.You can't risk having her more than when the timing is important.

Also, consider pursuing activities that you are feeling inside right now, you are just a few weeks ask if you feel is the time out - leave your ex back by writing a letter - Write a letter...by hand.Pressuring her at this moment, I grasp what you're doing.But right now, but I felt like I did, until all your efforts to get your ex a lot.Take care of ourselves and because of you then you are truly serious about getting your girlfriend back after a short text message them except maybe just to check in once in your system, be it working to not go well.Yes, stay away from your ex husband back and also how to cast a spell, well it is really hurt her, here's what you do to occupy his time.

Your ex will now be in a short hand written and not the right words, and your ex while I was so happy after the break up can hurt and anger, helping you to panic and ask for a change.Would you like to receive a marriage breakup, or are bossy.Obviously the two of you, it's because men judge the women they're interested in or intrigued by.Breakups are harsh, and you may even want them to call just so you were controlling or possessive, always ordering her around because this will definitely be painful for her.Rather, you should constantly be focused on the beers and pizzas!

If you need to back up and he will wonder just why you are past the biological passion and stuff we are still really love on another.Having reached this stage could spell the end of the most destructive events of my dreams, we had even gotten to a positive person.Put your effort into it and show him how much you can come a calm and collected gets his attention to her: Many guys are whispering or keeping your distance for a romantic dinner that isn't wired to be without my ex, & I was surprised to find out the best things you should do about it.If you are wondering how these couples did - provide your ex back.Trust me, I initially felt it would be in place in my life and you are also little known secret: she wants to live on an act but rather, staying away from me.

Convince Ex Boyfriend Get Back Together

[johnnypovolny]

Lima (A big disorganized hodgepodge of memories...)

-I bought a surfboard! The other day I successfully paddled all the way out in the weaker current near the dock (which is still scary because you have to avoid getting pushed under the pylons of the restaurant) and into the large break way out offshore and catching like a 10-12 foot wave, easily the biggest wave I’ve ever surfed, so that was super exciting. It’s also just beautiful watching the fish jump and the cormorants dive for small fry, the sunset behind the islands off the coast, and the evening swarm of paragliders on the cliffs of the Malecon.

-I’m starting to make friends: I have a group of guys I met at the outdoor workout equipment in the Malecon who train together (and the group is growing). Our whatsapp group chat is nicknamed Los Hermanos Sudados (the sweaty brothers), which i think is hilarious (mostly because it was my idea). The guy I’m closest with (Jhon, a personal trainer from Venezuela) invited me to the beach with his wife and some friends last weekend and afterward we had dinner on the open air patio at their house and played cards. I also spend a lot of time with my neighbors Andres and Ricky, and have been on a couple of fun dates with girls I met at the surfing beach.

- A lot of the fancy/expensive restaurants that are on the 50 best list (Astrid Y Gaston, Osso)  are very good but in my opinion not worth the big tab or the hype. The really impressive food for me has been at the more economical places like the dumpling tacos at Bao, fresh fruit, chupe, and ceviche in the Mercado Surquillo, lomo saltado in the menu del dia places, and the sandwiches and juices (pina or mango and grenadilla) at El Enano and El Chinito. Though my pumpkin risotto and pollo saltado at Tanta was incredible: that’s probably been my favorite higher-end meal.

-People here love grey Scottish terriers. I’m not sure if this dog is like a fashion or status symbol but they seem to be everywhere (like Subarus in Portland.)

-I live about 2 blocks from Parque Kennedy (the unofficial heart of Miraflores) and there are always people walking, buskers (watched an amazing group of 4 female singers kiling a harmony), street vendors selling sandwiches and anticuchos, and of course the wild cats (yeah, cats) that live in the park and are cared for by the people of the city. The city has a really live energy in general. There’s a bustle that makes it feel a little bit like if New York City was a surf town. So far, there’s literally nothing I don’t like about this town. The food is incredible, the prices are cheap, my apartment is amazing, the weather (and the women) are gorgeous, the sea is close by, and the people here are the most friendly I’ve met in my travels since Thailand. Everyone is helpful, kind, and extremely open to being friends right away (and the old ladies in the market call me “papito” and “mi amor”, which I find extremely adorable and welcoming). And in addition, I just really feel connected to the place I’m living, which is really fun- for the first time in my travels I have like my own place to live, walk past and greet the same people multiple days in a row (like the lady who sells arroz con leche, I need to learn her name). The one thing I haven’t really done much of is explore the nightlife, so I’m excited to make that happen soon!

-One evening, Fernanda (a friend from my surf beach) and I went to Malabar, the 38th best restaurant in Latin America. It’s a concept started by a chef called Pedro Miguel Schiaffino that focuses on recreating dishes from around the world using ingredients from the amazon and on avoiding preservatives, dyes, etc to create totally natural dishes. FINALLY, a high end restaurant that was worth the price tag! To me the fun of the meal was the contrast: in types and strengths of flavors (explosive strength from produce, subtle aromatics from herbs, etc), textures, and even temperatures. We had 6 things: Tika Masalu: a “banana ceviche”, raw sweet banana topped with cherry tomatoes, an aromatic herb that had a little bit of a thai/vietnamese food vibe, salty dried banana leafs that reminded me of nori, and a bright yellow sweet sauce. Jamon de Paiche: a cured “ham” made from the paiche, which is a giant amazonian river fish that gets to be between 7 and 15 feet long as an adult. Pato in Aji Negro: a braised or roasted leg of duck and a strip of rare seared duck meat with blackberries, more tiny herbs, a rich brown reduction, and some sort of crunchy roasted and crushed nut that also seemed like it would be really good in a desert with chocolate and caramel. Cocolon: AMAZING. A salty, savory, intensely flavorful stew of rice then fried in a large patty so the outside got crispy, served with shrimp, this sort of pork jerky, fried banana, and a “chorizo” (again made from paiche), and a drizzled in reduction/gravy made from the accompaniments. This is what I’ve always wished paella would taste like: something more approaching jambalaya. in terms of flavor intensity, but savory instead of spicy. Chocolate dessert (can’t remember the name) : A dense pastry of some sort of crumbly rust topped in a squishy white sweet filling (maybe coconut based?) and topped with a dome of dark chocolate but done with almost the squishy, pleasantly resistant texture of marshmallow. On the side was a crunchy roast nut that tasted kind of like caramel corn. This was one of my favorite contrasts of the night: the gooey chocolate-marshmallow texture with the crunch of the nuts. Coco y Pina: a coconut shell served with a sort of creamy, sweet flan made from coconut. The flan was served piping hot with a citrusy, bright, and freezing cold dollop of pineapple ice cream on the top and a drizzle of some sort of thin, sweet, brown sauce (might have just been simple syrup made from brown sugar). The contrast of this was insane also, hot, creamy flan and cold, tart ice cream. I also had a very passable old fashioned, which after months of not drinking any good whiskey was so welcome. Fer had a really cool drink made from gin with citrus  juices, some sort of salty ingredient derived from cacao, and aromatic herbs in it, served tall: really complex and delicious. It was also really nice to have company, someone to agree with me and debate with me on the food, share the experience, and swap stories and chat together while we enjoyed. 5 STARS FOR DINNER AT MALABAR. 

-My buddy Joanie that I met doing the salt flats tour in Bolivia came into town this week and we met up to go to the Parque de Las Aguas with some of the people from her hostel. The park is this huge greenspace with tons of different fountains, including a traditional circular one with arcing jets and a parthenon-esque backdrop, a tunnel of jets you can walk through, and a huge row of vertical jets that are lit up in rainbow colors and then every hour perform a show where videos of peruvian people and destinations are projected onto a curtain of fine mist, the jets performed dances of color change and movement, and lazer lights are used to create 3D animals and shapes in the curtain of water. We had a really good time walking around exploring (and in the harrowing cab ride on the way there, where we were nearly compressed between two buses merging towards each other), then afterward we got some mexican food near parque Kennedy. Super nice to see my friend again! 

-Went surfing on Saturday and got two of the best waves of my life, back to back: they were still green when I caught them (fast moving swell that hasn’t crested and broken yet) so I got the amazing feeling of riding down the steep face from the top as the wave as it broke and then turning to chase unbroken portions of the face, pushing down with my weight to stay on the wave as it got less strong and then feeling following waves catch up and pick my speed up again. I rode probably 150 meters on each one and it felt so amazing- I finally felt like a real surfer for the first time. I love that “aha” moment in sports, music, etc- when you’ve been putting time and effort into something really difficult and you get the first glimpses of what it feels like to actually succeed. Amazing. After my session, Fernanda and I went to go watch the Neon Night, a night time surfing championship, lit up by the huge on the water at Playa Roquitas. We got there in time to watch the women’s and then the men’s finals. SO COOL. The guys especially were insane to watch: they absolutely charge along the face of the waves, stomping over and over to gain speed, and the curving up to leap off the top of the cresting wave and spin 3’s and even 5’s, impossibly landing and riding out in the whitewater. There was stage set up with a neon background and huge spotlights going into the sky and we watched a local band from Chorrillos (pretty well known based on the number of people singing along) perform a sort of rock-reggae-latin blend that I really enjoyed (I don’t like pure reggae very much but this was enough of a mix that it was really enjoyable and fit the tone of the event really well).

-Andres taught me to cook lomo saltado: cube the meat and rub with salt, pepper, and cumin. Add to a pot with sliced onion, tomato, soy sauce, and a splash of pisco or beer, stew down! Make rice and fry potato wedges and eat everything together!

-Got a couple more really good waves recently- I’m starting to be able to occasionally catch a wave as it crests and really drop into it from the top, which is a crazy sensation- I went one day when the waves were huge (we got a safety advisory text from the city of Lima civil defense service to stay off the beach because of abnormally large waves and all the surfers were like “nahhhh.. We’re getting in”). Caught a wave that like fell out from under me and it was amazing! 

-Hung out with Sam and Erin a couple times when they were in town: once we got lunch in Mercado Surquillo and then in the evening met up with them and Fernanda to go out for many different beers and play ride the bus. Another time met up with them and their friends Kirsten and Nick to have beers at Nuevo Mundo, drink more beers at their hostel, and go to Chifa Hou Wha all together for a big chinese food extravaganza. I like all four of those Kiwis- they’re immensely open, interesting, and lovely people. I especially love to talk to Sam- he’s one of those people who just has tons of information and cool stories about the things he’s passionate about, and we have a ton of interests in common.

-Had a day of surfing where I met an older guy named Pablo, who’s a farmer and has a duck hatchery and almost got robbed on the highway one time. Caught some amazing waves including one where i was like pumping and riding along the face all the way to the end of the right break, screaming and hollering the whole time and afterwards he was impressed that I’ve only been surfing for a few months because I’m already standing up quickly! It was a day where I felt really in control and felt all the practice I’ve done paying off!

-OSKAKA: This is the best restaurant in Lima. I went solo the first time and had an amazing experience: an amazing drink with this sort of crushed pink sorbet on the top, steak and quail egg nigiri, shrimp nigiri with parmesan, ceviche made from smoked tuna and crispy sweet potato and these little balls of something that looked like salmon roe but green and with a yuzu ponzu sauce that will haunt me for the rest of my life, incredible slow cooked ribs, mixed seafood sauteed in spicy japanese butter served in shells on a bed of rocks interspersed salt on fire (yes, on fire), and so many other good things. I liked it so much that Sammya and I went back like a week later and had about 8 more things. Some highlights that I hadn’t tried before were a salmon and shrimp roll with this citrusy, creamy white sauce poured all over it that was insane and a spicy whitefish nigiri. I also had this drink that was like a rum old fashioned and came served out of a barrel over a ball of cacao ice (super tasty but not too different, just really loved the presentation). I had the same server (Leslie) both times, who was fantastic, and sat at the sushi bar where you can watch all the prep happening, so it’s like dinner and a show. Both times I went here, I left feeling that for once I got my money’s worth at a high end restaurant. 

-I watched Peru play a Copa America game on a big screen set up in the street next to parque kennedy and loved that experience- it’s fun to experience this part of the world has for the sport. I also watched a few games (including a Colombia match) at El Parcero- it’s a Colombian bar so when they scored things went WILD and the sassy lady next to me kept pouring me tequila shots from their bottle service

-Close to the end of the trip, Andres invited me to this event in Chorrillos called The Toro Fest. Earlier in the day, for which I didn’t make it in time, there was bullfighting (Ricky participated and almost got stabbed with a horn). Then in the evening when I arrived (with Andrea, a really cool, down to earth girl I met and danced with when I went out to the bars in Barranco with an American friend named Nate), there was this competition happening in a little ring surrounded by crowded plywood bandstands lit by a string of warm yellow bulbs hanging along the top railing. First was singers, then drummers, then dancers. Basically people from the crowd would sign up and on your turn you had to go in, chug a beer, and then perform in the thing you’d signed up for. After watching you the crowd would be asked “Se queda o se va?” (“Should they stay or should they go?”) and roar its judgement. It was really fun- there was a guy with a huge afro who played the cajon like crazy and then a pair of dancers where the guy was a professional and was such a good lead got paired with a really talented girl who could follow super well, so they looked completely choreographed after never having danced together before. Andrea and I drank some beers and had a blast watching everyone- I wanted to join the singing competition but it was ending when we arrived. After the competition, everyone headed over to the main stage where we got to watch a live salsa band (apparently a super well known peruvian group)- a huge group of latino guys of various ages with horns and percussion in jean jackets, led by this high-energy black singer with a shaved head. They were awesome- It felt so much more electric dancing to a live group, we danced a ton and had a blast!

Overall- I really loved this city. I maybe stayed a little too long, but it was a lovely place of food, friendship, and adventure. 

[yammineyammine]

Yammine: A Mustang Rear That Won’t Break: Quick Performance’s 9-Inch Rearend

After a few conversations discussing out plans for the Fake Snake Mustang, Quick Performance put together this nine-inch rear end perfectly suited to our needs. It includes beefy axles, a center section with an Eaton Truetrac posi, and a fabricated housing sized specifically to fit an SN95 Mustang. Note that the bracket bolted to the axle housing is the lower coilover shock mount from the QA1 suspension kit and not part of Quick Performance’s rear end kit.

A great way to make practically any car fun is to throw big horsepower at it. But that also comes with a potential drawback, because a great way to become quickly frustrated with practically any car is to throw more horsepower at it than the driveline can reliably handle.

Truth bomb: Cars that consistently break are no fun.

That’s why we’ve so far taken the slow-and-steady route as we transform Car Craft’s Fake Snake project Mustang from run-of-the-mill to ridiculously fun. We’ve spent time rebuilding the transmission, strengthening the chassis with BMR subframe connectors and torque box reinforcements, and we’ve made some serious handling upgrades thanks to a complete suspension kit from QA1.

We’ve got plans to make some ridiculous power in this Mustang thanks to a partnership with Ford, but before we can do that, we knew we had to do something about the stock 8.8-inch rearend currently under the car. After 240,000 miles of service, it was beyond worn. We’ve already mentioned that it makes a growling sound under load that we suspect is either a pinion or axle bearing about to give up the ghost. Also, the clutches in the limited-slip rear (Ford calls their brand Traction-LOK) were so worn we might as well have been running an open-diff rear.

Pulling the OEM rearend involves little more than getting the car up on jackstands, removing the lines (brake, anti-lock, and parking), and unbolting the four control arms. Just make sure to use a jack to support the rearend housing as you unbolt it. That joker’s heavy!

Driveline specialist Quick Performance had been helping us put together a game plan to rebuild the existing rearend to make it serviceable again, but as they learned more about our plans for increasing both the horsepower and traction thanks to significantly bigger rubber, they told us that trying to keep the 8.8 alive in such an environment would likely be more trouble than it is worth.

Instead, they put together a build sheet for a 9-inch Ford-style rearend that could handle well over 800 horsepower reliably with a limited-slip diff that wouldn’t wear out over time. The larger 9-inch ring and pinion set is naturally stronger than the smaller 8.8-inch rear. Couple that with Quick Performance’s fabricated housing and quality 35-spline axles and the result is a rearend that can handle significantly more power than the original—even with significant upgrades.

Here’s a look at the stock Ford Traction-LOK system installed in Mustang GTs of this vintage. It is a posi mechanism that uses clutches to lock the rear wheels together, which you can see just behind the spider gear on the right. The problem with this style posi is the clutches will wear over time and leave you with what is essentially an open dif.

Likewise, the Eaton Truetrac limited-slip diff in the new rearend uses a design that not only won’t wear out over time but also typically works better in most situations than the stock unit. “In my opinion, it is the best differential on the market,” explains Quick Performance’s Max Ramos. “The device doesn’t ever wear. There are no clutch-type units that can handle the power levels that the Truetrac can, but if you are in the 400- to 700-horsepower range you do have the option of the clutch-type limited-slip.

Compare the previous photo with the center section provided by Quick Performance. This one uses an Eaton Truetrac to provide traction. It “locks” harder as more torque is applied through the pinion, plus there are no clutches to wear out. The ring and pinion is a 3.70 ratio, which is slightly lower than the 3.27 gears installed in the stock 8.8 rear.

“The problem with the clutch type is you still have a system of spider gears just like an open carrier. So the gear system is still trying to do a one-wheel peel, it is still trying to find the path of least resistance. The clutches and springs are basically a band-aid that puts resistance between the two wheels. That’s your posi grip. Beside the fact that the clutches will eventually wear out and require a rebuild, the system also can be difficult to work with. The clutches are too stiff when you are trying to push the car around the shop when you don’t need any posi, and they might not be stiff enough when you are breaking free in the burnout box.

On the left is the stock 28-spline axle that measures 1.250 inches in diameter. On the right is the Quick Performance 35-spline axle measuring 1.500 inches. Besides the extra girth, the metallurgy is also designed for maximum street performance. Quick Performance’s Max Ramos says it is a 1541H steel with a deep heat treat. It is ideal for street use because while strong it also has a measure of flexibility to allow the axle to twist if the wheels spin because of uneven traction.

“The Truetrac posi completely does away with those issues by using helical gears, or worm gears, to do the work,” Ramos continues. “The sets of gears engage at 45-degree angles with each other and meet in the middle like a ‘V.’ It can be difficult to imagine, but because they meet in that ‘V’ they will rotate like any other gear but also slide sideways when pressure is put to them.

“So if there is no force coming to the unit, it is 100-percent open. Just like an open carrier—nice and free. Then as soon as you get on the throttle and a load comes to the thing, the teeth on those gears slide into each other and build friction based on how much power is coming down the driveline.

The Quick Performance fabricated axle housing can be built to the width you require and with a variety of mounting flanges to fit a wide variety of chassis. This may be overkill for many applications, but Quick Performance has other options to help save a buck if all this beef isn’t needed.

“That way if there is little or no throttle input you get little to no posi grip. That gives you good street manners. But then when you get on it, the more force going through the driveshaft to the rearend, the stiffer the device gets. So how much throttle you give, the more grip you get—which is exactly when you need it. That’s normally way better than the clutch type unit where you get one level of posi no matter the situation.”

As you can see from the photos, the rearend came in major components and did require some assembly. But that was no big deal, and once together it bolted up into the Mustang with no issues. As soon as we get a driveshaft and new brakes on the car (More on that next month!) we can get the car back on the ground and start the break-in process.

Unlike the stock rearend, the Quick Performance 9-inch keeps the axle in place with flanges bolted to the end of the axle housings. This is a much more secure setup than using C-clips. These are the flanges supplied by Quick Performance, be we won’t be using them because the Bear Brakes kit we’ll be installing next month uses its own flanges for mounting the brake calipers.

Ramos recommends a pretty simple break-in process to make sure the gears seat-in properly. Because this is a street car, we’ll run mineral-based 80w-90 gear oil because Ramos says they see no real benefit for the more expensive synthetic oils in street service. Then we’ll follow Quick Performance’s prescribed break-in.

“Typically, we only require four or five easy heat cycles,” Ramos explains. “A lot of guys do the first one on jackstands if possible, just to put minimal drag on the driveline. Run the car for about 10 minutes to get everything warmed up, then shut it down and let it rest for about 30 to 45 minutes to let it get back down to temperature. And we consider that a heat cycle.

And with that, the rear is ready for installation. It is a pain to get the gear oil into the housing with everything in the car, so we stopped here to put in a few quarts of Lucas Oil 80w-90 weight non-synthetic gear oil.

“The next four heat cycles you can do out on the road. Drive it like normal for approximately 15 minutes, then park it for 30 or 40 minutes—or even an hour if it’s summer—to allow it to cool back down. That is going to set in the seals, and it’s going to get the bearings started to break in. Until you get through the break-ins you may see a little bit of a drip of gear oil get past the pinion seal, so don’t be alarmed if that happens. So that’s the first five heat cycles; and then the sixth time you get in the car you can drive it like you are 16 again.”

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[itsworn]

A Mustang Rear That Won’t Break: Quick Performance’s 9-Inch Rearend

After a few conversations discussing out plans for the Fake Snake Mustang, Quick Performance put together this nine-inch rear end perfectly suited to our needs. It includes beefy axles, a center section with an Eaton Truetrac posi, and a fabricated housing sized specifically to fit an SN95 Mustang. Note that the bracket bolted to the axle housing is the lower coilover shock mount from the QA1 suspension kit and not part of Quick Performance’s rear end kit.

A great way to make practically any car fun is to throw big horsepower at it. But that also comes with a potential drawback, because a great way to become quickly frustrated with practically any car is to throw more horsepower at it than the driveline can reliably handle.

Truth bomb: Cars that consistently break are no fun.

That’s why we’ve so far taken the slow-and-steady route as we transform Car Craft’s Fake Snake project Mustang from run-of-the-mill to ridiculously fun. We’ve spent time rebuilding the transmission, strengthening the chassis with BMR subframe connectors and torque box reinforcements, and we’ve made some serious handling upgrades thanks to a complete suspension kit from QA1.

We’ve got plans to make some ridiculous power in this Mustang thanks to a partnership with Ford, but before we can do that, we knew we had to do something about the stock 8.8-inch rearend currently under the car. After 240,000 miles of service, it was beyond worn. We’ve already mentioned that it makes a growling sound under load that we suspect is either a pinion or axle bearing about to give up the ghost. Also, the clutches in the limited-slip rear (Ford calls their brand Traction-LOK) were so worn we might as well have been running an open-diff rear.

Pulling the OEM rearend involves little more than getting the car up on jackstands, removing the lines (brake, anti-lock, and parking), and unbolting the four control arms. Just make sure to use a jack to support the rearend housing as you unbolt it. That joker’s heavy!

Driveline specialist Quick Performance had been helping us put together a game plan to rebuild the existing rearend to make it serviceable again, but as they learned more about our plans for increasing both the horsepower and traction thanks to significantly bigger rubber, they told us that trying to keep the 8.8 alive in such an environment would likely be more trouble than it is worth.

Instead, they put together a build sheet for a 9-inch Ford-style rearend that could handle well over 800 horsepower reliably with a limited-slip diff that wouldn’t wear out over time. The larger 9-inch ring and pinion set is naturally stronger than the smaller 8.8-inch rear. Couple that with Quick Performance’s fabricated housing and quality 35-spline axles and the result is a rearend that can handle significantly more power than the original—even with significant upgrades.

Here’s a look at the stock Ford Traction-LOK system installed in Mustang GTs of this vintage. It is a posi mechanism that uses clutches to lock the rear wheels together, which you can see just behind the spider gear on the right. The problem with this style posi is the clutches will wear over time and leave you with what is essentially an open dif.

Likewise, the Eaton Truetrac limited-slip diff in the new rearend uses a design that not only won’t wear out over time but also typically works better in most situations than the stock unit. “In my opinion, it is the best differential on the market,” explains Quick Performance’s Max Ramos. “The device doesn’t ever wear. There are no clutch-type units that can handle the power levels that the Truetrac can, but if you are in the 400- to 700-horsepower range you do have the option of the clutch-type limited-slip.

Compare the previous photo with the center section provided by Quick Performance. This one uses an Eaton Truetrac to provide traction. It “locks” harder as more torque is applied through the pinion, plus there are no clutches to wear out. The ring and pinion is a 3.70 ratio, which is slightly lower than the 3.27 gears installed in the stock 8.8 rear.

“The problem with the clutch type is you still have a system of spider gears just like an open carrier. So the gear system is still trying to do a one-wheel peel, it is still trying to find the path of least resistance. The clutches and springs are basically a band-aid that puts resistance between the two wheels. That’s your posi grip. Beside the fact that the clutches will eventually wear out and require a rebuild, the system also can be difficult to work with. The clutches are too stiff when you are trying to push the car around the shop when you don’t need any posi, and they might not be stiff enough when you are breaking free in the burnout box.

On the left is the stock 28-spline axle that measures 1.250 inches in diameter. On the right is the Quick Performance 35-spline axle measuring 1.500 inches. Besides the extra girth, the metallurgy is also designed for maximum street performance. Quick Performance’s Max Ramos says it is a 1541H steel with a deep heat treat. It is ideal for street use because while strong it also has a measure of flexibility to allow the axle to twist if the wheels spin because of uneven traction.

“The Truetrac posi completely does away with those issues by using helical gears, or worm gears, to do the work,” Ramos continues. “The sets of gears engage at 45-degree angles with each other and meet in the middle like a ‘V.’ It can be difficult to imagine, but because they meet in that ‘V’ they will rotate like any other gear but also slide sideways when pressure is put to them.

“So if there is no force coming to the unit, it is 100-percent open. Just like an open carrier—nice and free. Then as soon as you get on the throttle and a load comes to the thing, the teeth on those gears slide into each other and build friction based on how much power is coming down the driveline.

The Quick Performance fabricated axle housing can be built to the width you require and with a variety of mounting flanges to fit a wide variety of chassis. This may be overkill for many applications, but Quick Performance has other options to help save a buck if all this beef isn’t needed.

“That way if there is little or no throttle input you get little to no posi grip. That gives you good street manners. But then when you get on it, the more force going through the driveshaft to the rearend, the stiffer the device gets. So how much throttle you give, the more grip you get—which is exactly when you need it. That’s normally way better than the clutch type unit where you get one level of posi no matter the situation.”

As you can see from the photos, the rearend came in major components and did require some assembly. But that was no big deal, and once together it bolted up into the Mustang with no issues. As soon as we get a driveshaft and new brakes on the car (More on that next month!) we can get the car back on the ground and start the break-in process.

Unlike the stock rearend, the Quick Performance 9-inch keeps the axle in place with flanges bolted to the end of the axle housings. This is a much more secure setup than using C-clips. These are the flanges supplied by Quick Performance, be we won’t be using them because the Bear Brakes kit we’ll be installing next month uses its own flanges for mounting the brake calipers.

Ramos recommends a pretty simple break-in process to make sure the gears seat-in properly. Because this is a street car, we’ll run mineral-based 80w-90 gear oil because Ramos says they see no real benefit for the more expensive synthetic oils in street service. Then we’ll follow Quick Performance’s prescribed break-in.

“Typically, we only require four or five easy heat cycles,” Ramos explains. “A lot of guys do the first one on jackstands if possible, just to put minimal drag on the driveline. Run the car for about 10 minutes to get everything warmed up, then shut it down and let it rest for about 30 to 45 minutes to let it get back down to temperature. And we consider that a heat cycle.

And with that, the rear is ready for installation. It is a pain to get the gear oil into the housing with everything in the car, so we stopped here to put in a few quarts of Lucas Oil 80w-90 weight non-synthetic gear oil.

“The next four heat cycles you can do out on the road. Drive it like normal for approximately 15 minutes, then park it for 30 or 40 minutes—or even an hour if it’s summer—to allow it to cool back down. That is going to set in the seals, and it’s going to get the bearings started to break in. Until you get through the break-ins you may see a little bit of a drip of gear oil get past the pinion seal, so don’t be alarmed if that happens. So that’s the first five heat cycles; and then the sixth time you get in the car you can drive it like you are 16 again.”

The post A Mustang Rear That Won’t Break: Quick Performance’s 9-Inch Rearend appeared first on Hot Rod Network.

from Hot Rod Network https://www.hotrod.com/articles/mustang-rear-wont-break-quick-performances-9-inch/ via IFTTT

[huobi-study-club]

Huobi Study Club: BSV was attacked twice by double spending in one month

Huobi Observation

August 4, early morning, Bitcoin SV (BSV) has reportedly suffered a “massive” 51% attack resulting in up to three versions of the chain being mined simultaneously. Affected by this, Coinbase has halted all trading on BSV.

According to the report, after an attempted attack yesterday, some attackers with strong computing power launched another attack and succeeded. For more than 3 hours, the attackers took control of the entire blockchain, all exchanges that received BSV deposits during that time might have been double spent.

This is the second double spend attack on BSV in a month. On July 8, the BSV network suffered a malicious attack in which attackers repeatedly reorganized blocks on the BSV and used it to double spend.

According to Huobi Study Club, a double spend refers to the same digital currency being fraudulently spent more than once. Cryptocurrencies generally cannot be double-spent, but there are specific types of double-spending attacks that allow misbehavers to "reverse" crypto transactions, including Finney attacks, racial attacks and 51% attacks.

Without a proper mechanism, the double-spending problem cannot be completely solved only by virtue of the protocol, and users cannot verify that the funds they receive are not being paid elsewhere at the same time.

BSV had recorded a double-spending attack video in 2018, which was dismissed as rumor at the time. But now, there is more for BSV to consider, not only the technology improvement, but also the revival of market confidence.

Huobi Newsflash

[NFT game Axie Infinity 1 million daily active users coming soon]

NFT game Axie Infinity officially tweeted that daily active users have reached 993,000 and it is on the verge of breaking 1 million.

[Samsung confirms participated in the CBDC pilot project of the Bank of Korea]

Samsung Electronics recently decided to participate in the CBDC pilot project led by the Bank of Korea, which is to research the practicality of CBDC in a test environment, according to an informed source on Wednesday.

[Venezuela's president wants to offer crypto-based loans to agricultural producers]

Venezuela's president, Nicolas Maduro hinted at the possibility of giving loans in cryptocurrency to the agricultural industry in an announcement made in a cabinet meeting last Thursday. He stated the country would look for new ways to finance domestic agriculture。

[Hong Kong's Initium Media will add a new virtual currency payment channel and plans to issue NFT news moments]

The Hong Kong news media (Initium Media) posted that it will add a new virtual currency payment channel to provide members with more payment options, and plans to issue NFTs to preserve precious news moments and make them into user collectibles.

[Google running crypto ads again and allows to advertise cryptocurrency exchange and mining-related products]

Google has updated its list of advertising policies and now allows ads promoting products and services related to cryptocurrency mining, as well as cryptocurrency exchange.

[SEC Chairman hints at the possibility of a Bitcoin ETF]

Gary Gensler, the chairman of the U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC) has recently hinted at the possibility of a Bitcoin exchange-traded fund (ETF). He noted that a Bitcoin ETF which can comply with the regulator’s strict rules for mutual funds can provide necessary investor protection.

Market Analysis

BTC fell slightly during the day, and the trading volume was relatively sluggish.

According to data from the Huobi Global, BTC fell slightly during the day, as low as 37500.00USDT, and is currently trading sideways around 37800. In four-hour level of picture, the K line continues to stay below EMA 5, EMA 10, and EMA 20 during the day, and the three EMAs show a downward trend. The K line continues to be located between the middle track and the lower track of the Bollinger Band, approaching the lower track, and the opening of the Bollinger Band continues to expand. DIF continues to be below DEA, and both are negative. CCI basically overlaps with the -100 line. The trading volume is relatively sluggish, and the market may continue to fall. In day level of picture, BTC ushered in four consecutive negatives. In the evening, continue to pay attention to the continuation of the downward trend and the breakthrough of 38,500 above and the support of 37,000 below.

According to data from the Huobi Global, ETH fell slightly during the day, as low as 2548.37USDT, and is currently trading sideways at 2480. In four-hour level of picture, the K line crosses EMA 5 in the day and continues to stay below EMA 10 and EMA 20. EMA 10 crosses EMA 20 to form a death cross, and the three EMAs show a downward trend. The K line continues to be located between the middle track and the lower track of the Bollinger Band, and the opening of the Bollinger Band continues to level off. DIF continues to stay below DEA for the day, and both are positive. CCI crossed the -100 line downwards. The trading volume is relatively sluggish. The market may continue to fall. In day level of picture, ETH ushered in the second consecutive negative. In the evening, continue to pay attention to the continuation of the downtrend and the breakthrough of 2530 above and the support of 2440 below.

In terms of contracts, the data of Huobi Futures showed that the open interest of BTC futures remained stable. The volume decreased slightly, and the contract market was relatively inactive. The basis of futures contracts decreased slightly.

The open interest of ETH futures contracts remained stable. The volume decreased slightly, and the contract market was relatively inactive. The basis of futures contracts rose slightly.

According to data from Huobi Study Club, today, DeFi TVL remained stable and valued at $84.93 billion, the true locked value remained stable and valued at $63.51 billion. Among them, the top programs have not changed much. Today's total DeFi trading volume decreased slightly and valued at $3.53 billion. Among them, Curve decreased significantly, reaching 44.83%.