#mine never listened to the beatles ever around the house

[toongrrl-blog]

Not (Nawt!) Another Benvi Playlist

Awwwwww, say I wonder how this would play in 1963? 1973? 1983? 1993? 2003? Maybe telegrams with the earlier years, I dunno. Did they have internships back when my parents were kids? I know they had Model UN, I knew that from Mad Men and I don't know about Sally Draper's place on the social totem pole in school but she's cool so Model UN wasn't social suicide then again her county was really Republican and her stepdad didn't like real UN.......

Anyway with this tangent, listen to some good songs kids!

"Silhouttes (On the Shade)" The Rays (Herman's Hermits and Cliff Richard and The Ronettes did good covers, this needs to be covered, hey someone contemporary cover this song)

Rushed down to your house with wings

On my feet

Loved you like I never loved

You my sweet

Vowed that you and I would be

Two silhouettes on the shade

All of our days

Two silhouettes on the sha-ade

Silhouettes (silhouettes)

2. "You Really Got A Hold On Me" The Miracles (The Beatles also covered this song)

I don't like you, but I love you

Seems that I'm always thinking of you

Oh, oh, oh

You treat me badly, I love you madly

You've really got a hold on me (You've really got a hold on me)

3. "How Deep Is Your Love" Bee Gees

And you may not think I care for you

When you know down inside that I really do

And it's me you need to show

How deep is your love?

4. "He's Sure the Boy I Love" The Crystals

When he holds me tight

Everything's right

Crazy as it seems

I'm his, whatever he is

And I forget all of my dreams

5. "My Rose" Luca and Emma Castellino (suggested by @fishyyyyy99)

And maybe I didn't make myself clear

Or maybe you pretend, so you wouldn't hurt me (so you wouldn't hurt me)

It's probably better like this

But baby, you're pretty damn hard to forget

6. "Tomorrow is Another Day" Shelby Flint

Tomorrow is another day

How I hope you'll always stay

7. "Back to Heaven" Later.

'Cause if you don't atract my lady right

She's gonna send me back to life

You never know what's good or bad

8. "Unchained Melody" Todd Duncan, the Righteous Brothers, actually been covered several times

Woah, my love, my darling

I've hungered for your touch

A long, lonely time

And time goes by so slowly

And time can do so much

Are you still mine?

I need your love

9. "You've Made Me So Very Happy" Brenda Holloway (famously covered by Blood, Sweat, and Tears)

I love you so much you see

You're even in my dreams

I can hear

Baby, I can hear you calling me

I'm so in love with you

All I ever want to do is

Thank you baby

Thank you baby

10. "It Might As Well Rain Until September" Carole King (then covered by Bobby Vee)

The weather here has been as nice as it can be

Although it doesn't really matter much to me

For all the fun I'll have while you're so far away

It might as well rain until September

11. "Everything Has Changed" Best Coast

I used to crawl

All the way back home

I used to cry myself to sleep

Reading all the names they called me

Used to say that I was lazy

A lazy, crazy baby

Did they think

That maybe I was in on it?

Did they think?

No, of course they didn't

12. "The Way You Love Me" Faith Hill

There's nowhere else I'd rather be

Oooh, to feel the way I, feel with your arms around me

I only wish that you could see, the way you love me

The way you love me

13. "It's Your Love" Tim McGraw and Faith Hill

Oh, it's a beautiful thing

Don't think I can keep it all in (oh oh)

And if you ask me why I've changed

All I gotta do is say your sweet name

It's your love

It just does something to me

It sends a shock right through me

I can't get enough

And if you wonder

About the spell I'm under

Oh it's your love

(Woah oh baby)

(Oh, oh, oh)

14. "By My Side" INXS

In the dark of the night

Those small hours

Uncertain and anxious

I need to call you

Rooms full of strangers

Some call me friend

But I wish you were so close to me

15. "All I Have To Do Is Dream" The Everly Brothers

When I feel blue in the night

And I need you to hold me tight

Whenever I want you, all I have to do is

Dream

16. "Make It With You" Bread

Dreams, they're for those who sleep

Life is for us to keep

And if you're wondering what this all is leading to

I wanna make it with you

I really think that we could make it, girl

17. "Baby, I Need Your Loving" The Four Tops

Some say it's a sign of weakness for a man to beg

Then weak, I'd rather be

If it means having you to keep

'Cause lately I've been losing sleep

18. "Any Time At All" The Beatles

If the sun has faded away, I'll try to make it shine

There is nothing I won't do

When you need a shoulder to cry on, I hope it will be mine

Call me tonight and I'll come to you

19. "Only Love Can Break A Heart" Gene Pitney

Please let me hold you

And love you for always and always

Only love can break a heart

Only love can mend it again

20. "Don't Give Up On Us" David Soul

We're still worth one more try I know we put a last one by Just for a rainy evening When maybe stars are few Don't give up on us, I know We can still come through

21. "Where Does My Heart Beat Now" Celine Dion

Then one touch overcomes the silence Love still survives Two hearts needing one another Give me wings to fly

22. "Take Me With U" Prince and the Revolution

Come on and touch the place in me That's calling out your name We want each other, oh, so much Why must we play this game?

23. "This Girl Is A Woman Now" Gary Puckett & The Union Gap

This girl is a woman now She's learned how to give This girl is a woman now She's found out what it's all about And she's learning, learning to live

This girl tasted love As tender as the gentle dawn She cried a single tear A teardrop that was sweet and warm Our hearts told us we were right And on that sweet and velvet night A child had died A woman had been born

24. "Eres Tu" Carla Morrison

Quiero contemplarte sin contar el tiempo Dibujarte con mis puros recuerdos En mi mente marcar tus labios, tus besos Estás aquí dentro de mi mente

I want to contemplate you without counting the time that goes by To draw you with memories alone To mark your lips and your kisses in my mind To be here for another moment

25. "Help Is On The Way" Little River Band

Are you always in confusion Surrounded by illusion Sort it out You'll make out Seem to make a good beginning Someone else ends up winning Don't seem fair Don't you care

26. "Right Time of the Night" Jennifer Warnes

It's the right time of the night The stars are winking above It's the right time of the night For making love

27. "Human" The Human League

The tears I cry aren't tears of pain They're all to hide my guilt and shame I forgive you, now I ask the same of you While we were apart, I was human too

28. "I've Got You Under My Skin" Frank Sinatra (also covered by Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons)

I'd tried so, not to give in I said to myself this affair never will go so well But why should I try to resist when baby I know so well I've got you under my skin

29. "Just Fall In Love Again" Anne Murray

Magic, it must be magic The way I hold you when the night just seems to fly Easy for you to take me to a star Heaven is that moment when I look into your eyes.

30. "You Needed Me" Anne Murray

You held my hand when it was cold When I was lost, you took me home You gave me hope when I was at the end And turned my lies back into truth again You even called me "friend"

You gave me strength to stand alone again To face the world out on my own again You put me high upon a pedestal So high that I could almost see eternity You needed me, you needed me

31. "I Wanna Be Your Boyfriend" The Rubinoos

Picture in my mind, I see you and me I, I'm telling you what I wanna be You, you're saying you're in love with me And oh, it feels so good in a dream That I know in life it's just got to be I wanna tell you......

32. "Getcha Back" Beach Boys

I'm getting tired, layin' around here at night Thinking 'bout some other guy holdin' you tight He may have money and a brand new car May even treat you like a movie star And no matter what he ever do for you He can never love you like I can do So if I leave her and you leave him Can we ever get back again?

33. "Tear In My Heart" Twenty One Pilots

My heart is my armor She's the tear in my heart, she's a carver She's a butcher with a smile, cut me farther Than I've ever been

34. "Need You Now" Lady A

It's a quarter after one, I'm all alone and I need you now And I said I wouldn't call, but I'm a little drunk and I need you now And I don't know how I can do without I just need you now

35. "Somebody to Love" Queen

(He works hard) everyday (Everyday) I try and I try and I try But everybody wants to put me down They say I'm going crazy They say I got a lot of water in my brain I got no common sense (He's got) I got nobody left to believe No, no, no, no

(Ooh, ooh, ooh, Lord) Ooh, somebody Ooh (Somebody) Anybody find me Somebody to love Can anybody find me Someone to love?

36. "They Don't Know" Tracey Ullman

There's no need for living in the past Now I've found good loving, gonna make it last I tell the others "don't bother me" Cause when they look at you They don't see what I see

No, I don't listen to their wasted lines Got my eyes wide open and I see the signs Cause they don't know 'bout us And they've never heard of love

37. "Linger" The Cranberries

And I'm in so deep You know I'm such a fool for you You got me wrapped around your finger Do you have to let it linger?

38. "Alone" Heart

You don't know how long I have wanted To touch your lips and hold you tight You don't know how long I have waited And I was going to tell you tonight

39. "Wherever You Will Go" The Calling

If a great wave shall fall And fall upon us all Well then I hope there's someone out there Who can bring me back to you

40. "Never Tear Us Apart" INXS

We could live For a thousand years But if I hurt you I'd make wine from your tears I told you That we could fly 'Cause we all have wings But some of us don't know why

I was standing You were there Two worlds collided And they could never ever tear us apart

41. "Tear In My Heart" Twenty-One Pilots

Songs on the radio are okay My taste in music is your face But it takes a song to come around To show you how

She's the tear in my heart I'm alive She's the tear in my heart I'm on fire She's the tear in my heart Take me higher Than I've ever been

[survey--s]

657.

What type of milk do you like to drink? We normally just buy full fat milk but I like Jersey milk too, it's just so expensive and doesn't seem to last long. I also get oat milk for coffees as it makes them taste a bit more interesting.

Do you have a first aid kit at home? Yeah, there are two at home. I need to get a travel one actually as mine has mostly run out of everything useful.

What’s the absolute bare minimum in terms of facilities when you’re camping? I would never go camping lol.

How many places have you lived in your life? Two countries, eleven homes.

Are your parents dog or cat people? Is that different or the same as you? My parents aren't really pet people at all. My mum is asthmatic so they can't have pets anyway. I have a dog and three cats.

What’s your favourite flavour of potato chip? Cheese, BBQ, salt and vinegar, sour cream, paprika.

What’s the longest your hair has ever been? How long is it now? About bra length. It's currently just below my shoulders.

What video games remind you of your childhood? Super Mario or Pokemon.

What does your body wash or soap smell like? Cherry Blossoms.

Are there sounds that bother you on a visceral level? Yeah - cutlery on plates is the main one, as well as tapping, humming and tuneless whistling.

What was the last thing you bought online? Kitten food, I think.

Name something you always have in your fridge. Milk.

Have you ever had to hire a lawyer? Why? No.

Have you taken a walk today? Did you see any dogs? No, I haven't been out at all today. I did see a dog though.

What vegetable do you really hate? Brussel Sprouts.

Does your family have any traditions or rituals? Sure, I think that's pretty normal.

If you could learn any language, what would it be? I'd improve my Italian, I think.

What was the best thing that happened today? Something that seems minor can still be awesome. I had a day off and I didn't need to do ANYTHING.

Have you ever donated money to a charity? Which one? Sure, a few different ones over the years.

Did you have a large circle of friends in high school? No.

Would you ever get a matching tattoo with someone? No.

What are your top 5 favourite bands/artists? The Beatles, Dolly Parton, Jack's Mannequin, The Chicks and probably...I have no idea, lol. I don't really listen to much music these days, to be honest.

What time do you usually go to sleep? Around midnight-ish.

Do you have a job? I run my own dog walking business.

What colour are the plates in your kitchen? Some are white, some are white and blue, some are cream.

What was the last gift you received? I can't remember, honestly. Probably chocolate.

What is your Chinese zodiac animal? I can't remember.

Are you inside right now? If you’re home, what room of the house are you in? Yeah, I'm in the living room.

Are you good at remembering faces? Yes.

What will you do after this survey? I'll probably go and get something to eat.

[ticketstomydaydreams]

HOME

(All We Have: Part One)

Part Two

Colson x Female Reader

Summary: You and Colson are close friends and he invites you to move in to his house while you work on his record together

Word count: 1,580

Feels: Friendship Fluff for now

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, cursing, mentions of feeling depressed

Companion playlist:

Machine Gun Kelly - Home

Sia - Dressed in Black 

The Beatles - With a Little Help from My Friends

A/N: Throughout the series there will be changes to the timing of real life events like the pandemic, the release of certain songs etc. There's certain things I want to incorporate into the series, like particular events in MGKs life and lyrics from songs, so some stuff will get moved around to fit in to the story ✌️

______

It had been a long evening working in Colson’s home studio, The Boulevard, with him and the gang on the upcoming Tickets to my Downfall album. To say your schedule was busy was an understatement, but Colson had insisted you get involved with the new material after the success of your work together on Hotel Diablo.

Composing music was your main gig, you had an ear for melody and your passion for writing meant you always had lyrics swirling around your head. You had a penchant for dark and melancholy lyrics, finding music to be a source of therapy for you. It was something you and Colson had instantly bonded over. He'd bugged you to list some of the stuff you'd written that he'd know and you had gained his professional respect immediately.

He always kept a close eye on your work, ever the supportive friend and had laid claim to your piece ‘Glass House’ as soon as he'd heard it.

______

2019

You were sitting crossed legged on the sofa in your lounge, gently strumming your guitar and gazing off into space and mumbling to yourself, as you worked out some lyrics in your head. Colson was lying on the floor by your feet, scrolling through his phone with earphones in, a blunt in his hand that he occasionally passed up to you. This was a common set up, you found it easier to write in the peace and quiet and Colson has gradually started hanging out at your place more when he needed to focus on his own writing.

"All alone in the glass house, lie awake til the sun's out, pink sky when you come down…"

"Throw me in the damn flames, Bury me in gold chains, throw me in the damn flames…"

You'd started singing out loud, occasionally stopping to scribble down lyrics and make adjustments, not noticing that Colson had removed his earbuds to listen to you

" Dude, that's hard, like, beautiful… " His comment made you jump slightly, you hadn't seen him propping himself up on his elbows, watching you intently "Sing that last bit again"

You blushed slightly, his opinion was always important to you, and started singing. He muttered to himself as you did, then pointed at you "Again!"

Letting out a little laugh and rolling your eyes, you sang again

"Throw me in the damn flames, bury me in gold chains, throw me in the damn flames"

Colson's voice met yours at the end of the line, rapping softly "I'm waiting on the rain to come and wash it all away"

You locked eyes, smiling and he sat upright. "Dude, Im'a need that hook! That spoke to me right there, I've think got something for it that I've been stuck on"

He looked so excited, your heart did a little flip. You'd seen that writing this album had taken it out of him, he'd been digging deep and really going through it emotionally. You could tell it was going to be raw and special from what you'd heard already.

He sat forward and moved the guitar from your lap so he could lean his arms on your knees and looked up at you shooting you puppy dog eyes with those baby blues "Pretty please Y/N"

You laughed and ruffled his hair, "Anything for you Col" Honestly, it'd be an honour to be part of such a personal project, you thought

He wrapped his arms round you and squeezed,

"You're a legend, kid. Get a sample recorded and send it to me!" He grabbed your guitar off the sofa and whipped back around, strumming a few chords as he carried on talking with his back to you, leaning against the sofa "This is gonna be fire, you always just hit the nail on the head, I swear it's like you're in my head sometimes"

You smiled, seeing the wave of motivation that had struck your friend. You felt so lucky to have a friend who was not only so inspiring, but one who 'got it', who understood that music was a form of release. Someone who recognised that it was important to feel these things, rather than encourage you to push dark thoughts away with toxic positivity.

He’d pushed to use your original samples on his record, but as much as you loved writing and singing, you were a behind the scenes kind of gal which had always suited you just fine. Naomi, a mutual friend of you both, came onboard to record them with him. A decision that turned out to be golden… 'Death in my Pocket' would be born not long after, with Naomi doing your lyrics such beautiful justice yet again, perfectly pairing with Colson's emotional rapping.

______

From then on Colson had kept you close to his recording. You'd been helping here and there with composition and notation, but your production skills were what was taking centre stage during the most recent sessions. You had a long list of projects you were working through, leaving you chained to your equipment most days and nights anyway so throwing more music into your workload didn't seem like much of a big deal. In all honesty, the chaos of Colson’s studio and the revolving door of personalities that were in and out constantly, made it one of the most fun places to be. You loved what you did for a living and it never really felt like work Even though the guys were a real handful at times, you kind of enjoyed being the studio 'Mami' as they often affectionately referred to you

Everything had wrapped up for the evening and the guys had migrated back into the house. You could hear from the raucous that the drinks must have started flowing freely. You were saving your work and packing up your stuff when Colson bursts back into the studio and throws himself in a chair, spinning it around with his arms in the air.

"You staying for drinks Y/N?" he grins at you, clearly hyper and in party mode

You let out a big sigh "Urgh, I'd love to but I have an early start tomorrow. I finally managed to get an apartment viewing. I swear I've looked at a hundred places now, they get snapped up so quickly.. I've only got a few weeks left on my lease as well"

“Ah, that sucks kid” Colson empathises, spinning his chair again before an idea strikes him “Wait! Why don’t you move in here for a bit until you find a place? The guest room is pretty much your room anyway, the amount you crash here”

You laugh “This is true, that mattress is so much better than mine! Aw Col, that would honestly be so helpful, the stress of finding a place when I’m this busy is killing me. I don't know… You sure the guys won’t mind?”

Colson scoffs “Why would they mind? You practically live here anyway” he teases “I’m sure they’ll be just as stoked as I am at the thought of you joining the madhouse for a while”

Before you have a chance to respond, he stands up and throws his arms around you, squashing you into him tightly “That’s it decided Roomie. Another song in the bag and a new housemate, plenty to celebrate tonight!”

Wriggling out of his tight grasp, you laugh and in a deep voice shout “let’s goooooo” mocking his signature catchphrase. He flips you his middle finger and says “Kitchen, now”

Once you’re in the kitchen, Colson heads to get you a drink and grabs one himself. Appearing back at your side, he passes you your beer and then shouts out to the rest of the group,

“YO, meet our latest housemate, Y/N is moving in. LET’S FUCKING GOOOOO”

Everyone in the kitchen lets out a big cheer, clearly pleased as he said they would be. Colson bends down and picks you up, swinging you around in a circle, spilling your drinks all over the both of you as you shout his name in mock annoyance, between giggles.

“I hope you know what you’re letting yourself in for” Rook laughs, clinking his drink against your now empty beer bottle once your feet are back on the floor

“It’ll be good to have another pair of hands around here, looking after you lot” Ashleigh chimes in, laughing and slapping Slim away as he pulls her hood up over her head, covering her eyes

It had been 5 years since you'd made the decision to move to LA, barely knowing a soul. You'd worked several jobs, jumped from place to place, worked your ass off to catch your break in the music business, sometimes feeling like the grind would never get you anywhere.

There had been times where you felt like you couldn't carry on, aching from trying to keep pace. The dream had felt like it was turning into a nightmare, as you tried to make ends meet, feeling so lonely in this enormous city.. but eventually you'd made these amazing friends who made you feel so safe and loved.

Now, there were times you had to pinch yourself just to make sure it was all real.

As you shake off some of the beer that's dripping from your hands, you look around the kitchen. Taking in the crazy, loveable bunch before you, your new housemates, you are filled with gratitude. You finally felt like you were exactly where you were supposed to be…

Home.

______

❌❌ Lace up!

[d-criss-news]

20 Questions With Darren Criss: How Acting Has Helped Him Make New Music

While Darren Criss has graced our TV screens with a range of characters, from high schooler Blaine Anderson on Glee to serial killer Andrew Cunanan on The Assassination of Gianni Versace, he was last spotted just being himself, on our For You Page on TikTok. “I’m walking to rehearsal with a guitar on my back with a Trader Joe’s bag ... I did not bring an umbrella because I forgot that it was raining. I’m rocking that NYC musician life,” the Glee alum explained in the hilarious clip posted three days ago.

While Criss’ acting work has earned him acclaim and stardom, he leaned into making music during the pandemic. On Aug. 20, he dropped a new EP, Masquerade, featuring five new tracks that Criss says were inspired by the different characters Criss has embraced throughout his career. After Criss wrote songs for his musical comedy web series Royalties and Apple TV+’s animated sitcom Central Park before the pandemic struck the United States, he then used those experiences as a precursor to his new EP. As Criss continues to promote his new music, he answered 20 of Billboard's questions – giving us a peek into how his new EP came together, and how growing up in San Fransisco shaped him as an actor, singer and all-around artist.

1. What inspired your latest project, Masquerade?

Although I would have preferred that it come at a far less grim cost, I finally had the time. Before the pandemic, I had written 10 new songs for my show Royalties -- along with an original song for Disney and another for Apple’s Central Park. These were all assignments in which I was writing for a certain scenario and character. Go figure. It was the most music I had ever written in a calendar year. This really emboldened me to rethink how I made my own music— to start putting a focus on “character creation” in my songs, rather than personal reflection. The latter was not proving to be as productive. The alchemy of having this time and having set a new intention with my own songwriting and producing made me put on a few of my favorite masques and throw myself a Masquerade.

2. How do you think your background as an actor complements your music?

They are one and the same to me. I treat acting roles like musical pieces— dialogue is like scoring a melody; there’s pace, dynamics, cadence, tone. Physical characterization is like producing -- zeroing in on the bass line, deciding on the kick pattern. Vocal characterization is like choosing the right sonic experience, choosing the most effective snare sound, and mixing the high end or low end. It goes without saying that it works in the complete opposite direction. Making each song is taking on a different role literally and employing the use of different masques to maximize the effectiveness of the particular story being told.

3. On Instagram  you wrote that “Masquerade is a small collection of the variety of musical masques that have always inspired me.” Which track do you identify with most in your real life?

Everybody absorbs songs differently. Some key into the lyrics, some into the melody, some the production, some into vocal performance. When I listen to songs, I consider all of their value on totally different scales. So it’s hard to say if there’s any track I “identify” with more than any others, since I -- by nature -- identify with all of them. I think I just identify with certain aspects more than others. If it helps for a more interesting answer, I will say I enjoy the slightly more classical, playful -- dare I say -- more Broadway-leaning wordplay of “Walk of Shame,” but that’s just talking about lyricism. I enjoy the attitude of “F*kn Around,” the batsh--t musicality of “I Can’t Dance,” the relentless grooves of “Let’s” and “For A Night Like This.” All have different ingredients I really enjoy having an excuse to dive into.

4. What’s the first piece of music that you bought for yourself, and what was the medium?

Beatles audio cassettes: “Help” and “Hard Day’s Night.” I just listened on repeat on a tape-playing Walkman until my brother and I got a stereo for our room with a CD player in it, which was  when I just bought the same two albums again, but this time as compact discs.

5. What was the first concert you saw?It’s hard to say, because my parents took us to a lot of classical concerts when we were small. But I guess this question usually refers to what was the first concert you went to on your own volition, and that my friend, was definitely Warped Tour ’01. My brother and I went on our own— two teenagers going to their first music festival, in the golden age of that particular genre and culture. It was f--king incredible.

6. What did your parents do for a living when you were a kid?

My dad was in private banking and advised really, really wealthy people on how to handle their money. My mom was, by choice, a stay-at-home mom, but in reality, she was my dad’s consigliere. They discussed absolutely everything together. They were a real team, and I saw that every single day in the house. They both had a background in finance (That’s how they met in the first place.) and were incredibly skilled at all the hardcore adulting things that I absolutely suck at. They were total finance wizards together. So of course, instead of becoming an accountant, I picked up playing the guitar and ran as far I could with it. Luckily, they were all about it.

7. What was your favorite homecooked meal growing up?

My dad was an incredible chef. For special occasions, I’d request his crab cakes. They were unreal. I’ve never had a crab cake anywhere in the world that was good as my dad’s.

8. Who made you realize you could be an artist full-time?

I don’t know if I’ve actually realized that yet.

9. What’s at the top of your professional bucket list?

The specifics change every day, but the core idea at the top is to continue being consistently inconsistent with my choices, and to keep getting audiences to constantly reconsider their consideration of me. But I mean, sure, what performer doesn’t want to play Coachella? What songwriter doesn’t want to have Adele sing one of their songs? What actor doesn’t want to be in a Wes Anderson film?

10.  How did your hometown/city shape who you are?

San Francisco. I mean, come on. I was really lucky. The older I get, the more grateful I am for just being born and raised there. It’s an incredibly diverse, culturally rich, colorful, inclusive, vibrant city. By the time I was born, it had served as a beacon for millions of creative, out-of-the-box thinkers to gather and thrive. I grew up around that. The combination of that with having parents, who were unbelievably supportive of the arts themselves, laid an incredibly fortunate foundation to consider the life of an artist as a legitimately viable option. It’s a foundation that I am supremely aware is not the case for millions of young artists around the world. I was absurdly lucky.

11.  What’s the last song you listened to?

I mean probably one of mine, but not by choice. I know, lame. But I’m promoting a new EP, what’d you expect? But if you wanna know what I’ve been listening to, as far as new s--t is concerned: a lot of Lizzy McAlpine, Remi Wolf, and Charlie Burg.

12.  If you could see any artist in concert, dead or alive, who would it be?

The Beatles is an obvious "yeah, duh." Sammy Davis, Mel Tormé, or of course, Nat King Cole. I would’ve loved to see Howard Ashman give a lecture on his creative process and his body of work.

13. What’s the wildest thing you’ve seen happen in the crowd of one of your sets?

I feel like just having a crowd at all, at any one of my sets, is pretty wild enough.

14. What’s your karaoke go-to?

The real answer to this I’ll write into a book one day, because I have a lot to say about karaoke etiquette. I have two options here: I can either name a song that I like to sing for me, for fun, or I can name a song that really gets the group going. The answer depends on what kind of karaoke night we’re dealing with here. So I will say, after I’ve selected a ton of songs that services a decent enough party vibe for everyone else, then I would do one for me, and that would be the Beatles’ “Oh! Darling.”

15. What’s one thing your most devoted fans don’t know about you?

What I have up my sleeve.

16. What TV show did you binge-watch over the past year?

Dave is a stroke of genius. There are episodes that I believe are bona fide masterpieces. Also, My Brilliant Friend is a masterclass in cinematic television.

17. What movie, or song, always makes you cry?

It’s A Wonderful Life.

18. What’s one piece of advice you would give to your younger self?

Get used to sharing everything about yourself and your life now, or more astutely, to the idea that you don’t necessarily get to control how your life is shared. I know it’s not really your thing, but you’re gonna have to get used to it, so start building up those calluses now. And don’t worry, all the stuff you love now will be cool again in your mid-thirties, so keep some of those clothes because you’ll be a full-blown fashion icon if you just keep wearing exactly what you’re wearing. Oh nd also, put money into Apple and Facebook.

19.  What new hobby did you take on in the last year?

I’ve always been a linguaphile. My idea of leisure time is getting to study or review other languages. This past year, I took the time to finally dive into learning how to read, write, and speak Japanese. Other than making music, it was one of the biggest components of my 2020-2021.

20. What do you hope to accomplish or experience by the end of 2021?

I hope I get to play live shows again.

[johns-prince]

Paul: John was a beautiful man, John and I slept together, I loved John and I still love John, John was my soulmate. Howard Stern: John was the love of your life. Paul: BUT THE WOMEN-

Paul: John wasn't the love of my life, are you mad? Didn't you see all the women we banged?--

Paul: Recounts how when he first saw the little skiffle group playing at the Fete, it was John who caught his attention and basically "everyone else sort of faded away."

"I came to love that beery old breath."

Paul later divulged that he actually noticed John WAY BEFORE THE FETE, noticed him at the fish and chips shop, they had a brief chat at the newspaper stand Paul worked at briefly, he'd see John on top of the double deckers, would see John on the same bus as he was taking and literally had to steal glances because he was scared John would catch him staring and go knock him one.

Literally defied Jim at every turn when it came to John, would sneak John over when Jim wasn't home or his aunt's weren't over cleaning, started ditching class to hangout with John. Talk about "But daddy I love him" trope with a father who doesn't approve.

Paul chose John over his own fucking father.

Thought John was great for literally offering to share half his chocolate bar.

LITERALLY CONJOINED AT THE HIP WHEN THEY WERE JUST TEENS AND EVERYONE NOTICED.

Literally Paul would let John interrupt his dates, wouldn't get angry when he'd show up despite apparently canceling. Basically the girl Paul was on a date with would become the third wheel and afterwards when she'd complain about Paul letting "that awful guy" come with, Paul would defend John and his inappropriate, biting comments/behavior with, "Yeah but it was funny."

They'd sleep over at each other's houses, and Paul can't ever stop bringing up how he'd sleep with John, *a lot*.

They hitch hiked a lot together, alone.

Nerk twins.

"John's got beautiful hands."

"John was very beautiful."

John's the only one Paul would affectionately fix his tie for.

Paul has no problem with Two of Us and it's depiction of a nostalgic, playful kiss between them in that elevator scene-- but heavily criticized Nowhere Boy because "John never hit me."

Fucking Paris.

"John let me have as many banana milkshakes as I wanted, he must've been really fond of me." Paul you're just fucking with us now.

"I was the only one he chose as his partner, 'nough said."

Paul literally said he could've died happy since he was John's partner and got to work with him.

Paul put Linda's contributions down while gushing over his partnership with John and how he could NEVER have anything like that with anyone else because it's special. Linda's collaberations (and even his collaboration with Michael fucking Jackson) were considered not serious.

Paul's first lsd trip with John and, compared to the one he had with Tara, was PHENOMENAL (Tara claimed Paul just, sat in a corner, flipping through an artbook. Paul just wanted to take a shower after) literally the trip he had with John, the two stared into each other's eyes, repeating "I know." Then he described seeing John as sitting there, like the emperor of the universe. He tried going to lay down to sleep but instead he continued feeling John, like he was controlling everything.

Paul would go with John to meet certain people because he didn't want them upsetting John (not the other way around)

The photo of John sleeping that he took in Paris and has framed somewhere in his house.

Paul leaving the studio, in tears, and crying all the way back to his place, driven by Mal, after John told Paul, seriously, that he wanted a divorce and I don't want to hold your hand anymore.

Paul falling into a great depression when losing The Beatles (John) despite technically having "everything he wanted"-- a wife and kids. Newly wed and supposedly happy... But he was DEPRESSED.

THE SIX FOOT TALL PHOTO OF HIM AND JOHN DURING THE WHITE ALBUM THAT LINDA TOOK AND HE HAD IT IN HIS OFFICE.

"I'm in love with a friend of mine."

Paul was desperate to write with John again-- said by Linda.

"If John was gay then I would've been the first he would have hit on and tried anything with so--"

His entire rivalry with Stu for John's attention.

How about the night they cried, breaking down, drunk, telling each other they loved each other, hugging.

Literally Paul believed that when The Beatles fell, he and John would continue making music. When they got old Paul imagined he'd be making music with John still, for younger folks to play. It was always him and John.

Paul, twice, thought he witnessed John's soul/ghost/presence, once during an interview and when he, Ringo, and George were taking photos together and a white peacock photobombed one.

He always has dreams involving John, and he says they're always good.

After learning about John being killed, he literally locked himself in his studio and listened to Just Like Starting Over on full volume, for hours, weeks on.

He was in denial that John was truly gone, for a month or two. He refused to believe John was dead, wasn't on this plane of existence with him anymore.

He gets his hands on whatever he can of John's or about John.

Linda's friends would talk about how weird and slightly disturbing it was that Paul would talk about John, a lot, and talked about him in the present tense, as if he'd just seen him or talked to him-- not like John was dead.

Here Today.

He still slips and talks about John in the present tense.

He literally said he'll sometimes have "jam sessions" with John when stuck-- he'll imagine John there, and what he might say, the advice, if he'd think the lyrics are shit or good.

His favorite song is the one of his that John praised and was open about liking-- it was John's favorite on that album, so it's Paul's favorite song in general. It's the song Here, There, and Everywhere.

Paul, LITERALLY SAYING HE AND JOHN ARE SOULMATES.

Me:

[boilyerheid]

Free To A Good Home: Playlist

Pruning Shears - The Amazing Devil 

[this whole song is essentially a cross-class romance which makes it THEE ESSENTIAL Ned and Tom song]

Only one not wearing cuff-links, only one not begging to buy her drinks. She’s watching the clock and do you think she knows you got your shoes from Oxfam? They’re telling jokes, she laughs out loud at mine, do you like my accent?

The Modern Leper - Frightened Rabbit

[THE Ed song]

I’ve got this disease that I can’t shake and I’m just rattling through life/ I am ill but I’m not dead, and I don’t know which of those I prefer

A Better Son/Daughter - Rilo Kiley

[THE Tom song]

And your mother’s still calling you insane and high, swearing it’s different this time/ And sometimes when you’re on, you’re really fucking on/ You’ll fight and you’ll make it though, you’ll fake it if you have to, and you’ll show up for work with a smile

the rest along with the spotify link below the cut because it got long!

I Wanna Get Better - Bleachers  

I didn’t know I was lonely til I saw your face/ I didn’t know I was broken til I wanted to change

Take A Chance On Me - ABBA

My love is strong enough to last when things are rough, it's magic/ You say that I waste my time, but I can't get you off my mind/ No, I can't let go

Calm Me Down - Mother Mother

All my life I hurt myself and cut myself/ Put myself through living hell/ All so I could feel what I felt/ I am inside out and upside down

Country House - Blur

He takes all manner of pills and piles up analyst's bills in the country/ Blow, blow me out I am so sad I don’t know why 

Apartment Story - The National 

Can you carry my drink, I have everything else/ I can tie my tie all by myself/ I'm getting tied, I'm forgetting why

I Wanna Hold Your Hand - The Beatles 

Oh please say to me you’ll let me be your man/ And please say to me you’ll let me hold your hand

At My Most Beautiful - REM

I save your messages just to hear your voice/ You always listen carefully to awkward rhymes/ You always say your name like I wouldn't know it's you/ At your most beautiful

Emotion Sickness - Silverchair

Emotion sickness/ Addict with no heroin/ Good things will pass/ Lessons learned

I’m Not Okay - My Chemical Romance

You really need to listen to me/ Because I'm telling you the truth/ I mean this, I'm okay! (trust me)

Still Breathing - Green Day

As I walked out on the ledge/ Are you scared to death to live?/ I've been running all my life/ Just to find a home that's for the restless

To Be Alone - Hozier

Never feel too good in crowds with folks around/ When they're playing the anthems of rape culture loud/ Crude and proud creatures baying/ All I've ever done is hide from our times/ When you're near me honey, when you kill the lights and kiss my eyes/ I feel like a person for a moment of my life

CREEKS - Bon Iver

Love at second glance, it is not something that we need/ Honey, understand that I have been left here in the reeds/ And all I'm trying to do is get my feet up from the creeks

Shine - Years & Years

I'll recover if you keep me alive/ Don't leave me behind/ Can you see me? I'm shining/ And it's you that I've been waiting to find

SPOTIFY LINK

[thebeatleaesthetic]

Paul McCartney on John Lennon’s Sexuality [Quotes]

[wordcount: 1.3 k]

I don't think [the gay claims] are true. John never ever tried anything, I slept with him a million times. I've seen him on tour roaring drunk, out of his mind in the early days before he sobered up and went to rehab. Roaring drunk and it was always with a female, never once [with a man]. If you've got a little gay tendency and you’re roaring drunk I'd have caught him once.

— Paul McCartney (from The Sun)

That was the intimacy we had. We would always be walking in on each other and things. I’d walked in on John and seen a little bottom bobbing up and down with a girl underneath him. It was perfectly normal: you’d go, ‘Oh shit, sorry,’ and back out the room... 

That’s why I’ve always found very strange the theory that John was gay. Because over fifteen years of sharing rooms, sharing our lives, not one of us has an incident to relate of catching John with a boy. I would have thought that kind of thing would be more prevalent, and John’s inhibitions were certainly free when he was drunk.

...

So there was the homosexual thing - I’m not sure John did anything but we certainly gave him a lot of grief when he got back [from Spain with Brian].

...

There has been a suggestion since that John had some homosexual thing with Brian, but I personally doubt it. All the intimate moments we shared were always about girls. 

— Paul McCartney (from The Beatles Anthology book)

The funny thing is when later the rumour came out that John was gay, I said: 'I don't think so.' I mean, I don't know what he did when he went to New York, but certainly not in any of my experiences. We used to sleep together, top and tail it, you know. I always used to say: 'Come on, I would have spotted something here.' But what I spotted was completely the opposite. It was just chicks, chicks, chicks.

— Paul McCartney (from The Guardian 2007 interview with Pete Doherty)

But I--I mean, I hear [Peter Brown] said John Lennon had a gay thing with Brian Epstein when they went to Spain together once.  That's been rumored for years. I mean, was he in the room with them? It's probably just wishful thinking on his part. But I'll tell you what's naughty about it--that John's not here to answer it, and neither is Brian. All that stuff that's written about us, I just hope that people who've sort of heard of our music, vaguely, know what the Beatles, or the ex-Beatles, were--and it wasn't what's been written. I mean, John's time and effort were, in the main, spent on pretty honorable stuff. 

— Paul McCartney (from the Playboy 1984 interview)

I don't actually know the truth of the John [and Brian Epstein relationship] rumor. I mean, all I can ever say about that is that I slept with John a lot just 'cause you--you had to sleep and you know you didn't have, you know, more than one bed. And, um, to my knowledge John was never gay. It might've been--I've suspected that the John thing and Brian was a power play on John. 'Cause John was a very political animal. And John I suspect went away on that, uh, Spanish holiday, wherever it was, number one 'cause nobody went on holiday so anyone--I would've gone. Anyone would've gone. Off a free holiday? You're kidding. Yes! I'm there. Number two, I'm sure John took Brian aside and said "Hey, you wanna deal with this group, I'm the guy you deal with. Okay?" John was that kind of guy. Very sensible, very pragmatic. So I'm sure that was the main reason John went there. Now as to whether there was any sort of gay dalliance or whatever, I don't know. That's--that's--that’s, uh, I can't tell you that... And I say, he never hit on me at all. You know, there was never any question of it at all. And I say, we lived so intimately together that there would've been one evening when he's sort of drunk and so and so and so, would've been in his character to do that...

— Paul McCartney (from the Beatle Stories channel)

I slept in a million hotel rooms, as we all did, with John and there was never any hint that he was gay...

When the group was formed John was a smart cookie. Brian Epstein was going on holiday to Spain and Brian was gay. He invited John along. John, not being stupid, saw his opportunity to impress upon Mr Epstein who was the boss of this group. And I think that's why John went on holiday. And good luck to him, too - he was that kind of guy, he wanted Brian to know who he should listen to in this group, and that was the relationship...

So they say he went on holiday with someone who was known to be gay and therefore he is gay.

— Paul McCartney (from Lennon, Ray Coleman)

I think where [Albert Goldman in his John Lennon biography] started to exaggerate and says that John was possibly homosexual. I think that he throws that in with the truth and it starts to have the same credence as the real truth... But, um, there's a bit about me where John's supposed to come around to my house and put his foot through a picture or something. Well, I mean, it never happened you know. So if one of them never happened it's quite possible that a lot of stuff in the book never happened. And I say, if he’s homosexual, I'd have thought he'd made a pass at me in 20 years, darling!

— Paul McCartney (from The Today Show 1988)

You know, that rumor [about John being gay] came out a long time ago and the thing was, the person that started the rumor or the book that it was in, he didn't know John. Whereas I did. So I--I said to people, you know around about that time, said, "Look. I was on tour with John. I grew up with John. We kind of--we slept in the same bed in hotel rooms. We topped and tailed it like kids do, you know, when you're growing up." And I said, "I never once did I see any hint of that." Now, you know, we spent drunken nights together. I think there would've been a hint. Don't you? Somewhere. If he was gay, I think there would've just been a hint, somewhere. But it was a rumor started, uh, years ago that I--I think is a nice story if you can make it stick, but I don't think it's true.

— Paul McCartney (on The Howard Stern Show)

Stern: Here's what [Philip Norman’s] book claimed: Your sexuality was so powerful over [John], he was so enamored of you, so attracted to you, almost... McCartney: Wow. Stern: ... that you could have your way with him. Not sexually... Quivers: Did you feel a power over him? McCartney: No. Stern: ... that in business. That you had a--that--that he was sort of at your mercy because he was so in love with you. That was the theory in the book. McCartney: Well, you know, I mean I--I like that theory. Stern: Yeah [laughs]. Wish that could've been true. McCartney: No, man. Stern: No, not to have sex, but to be able to control him more because it would've been a little bit easier, business-wise. McCartney: No, but--but Howard, listen man. You can make up theories about anything... I mean, you know, we can make up anything. And that is really, particularly with The Beatles, that is what happens. They just take one tiny fragment of evidence and they blow it up into a book, even.

— Paul McCartney appears on The Howard Stern Show

▬▬▬▬

If I were to insert my own personal take on this...

I think part of the reason Paul is insistent on John’s heterosexuality (other than because he never saw John as gay) is because Paul found Albert Goldman’s, Philip Norman’s and Peter Brown’s biographies ‘trashy’. As he said when speaking about Goldman’s book in 1988: “For me, I just think it’s trash.” The rumors were around before the books’ release, but I think they - particularly Goldman - widely spread the theory among the public and elaborated on it. Paul claims there are lies in the books and he’s commented before that he strongly dislikes when people ‘cash in’ on the Beatle story with made up information. Especially when it was old friends, like Peter Brown.

As far as I can tell, Paul is also a bit protective of John’s image. To quote him from the Today Show: “[John] isn’t here to defend himself. I think that’s the big problem with a book like [Goldman’s]. It’s too cheap a shot, I think.” Remember that this book was released not even ten years after John’s death, when his name must’ve been a hot-ticket, and it’s obvious John wasn’t there to respond to any claims. John used to be asked about his relationship with Brian, denying that anything happened between them. But in these books, it was no longer asking John directly if he were gay; it was speculating that John was gay and strongly suggesting it to the reader. I think Paul feels the need to talk about what John was really like, even clarifying things like John’s flawed nature, or that John wouldn’t have wanted to be a martyr. John’s sexuality is something deeply personal and accusing him of being gay even more so. Paul must see himself as one of the few people who knew John well enough to comment on such personal things like that - which is why he says things like “I mean, was he in the room with them? It's probably just wishful thinking on his part” about Brown writing on John’s trip to Spain. I think he must find spreading rumors like that a bit presumptuous. 

And of course there’s the thought that John might’ve been attracted to Paul himself. I think Paul values his memories of John’s friendship to the highest degree. So, when he hears people turning it into something else entirely, he almost immediately goes “No, no” in very clear and firm terms as he did on The Howard Stern show. 

I know there is a variety of opinions on this subject, but that’s just mine!

[wastelandcth]

lovebug - cth

summary: a moment captured by ashton leads to an engagement present that the doves had no idea would ever exist. 

author’s notes: alright guys, this is all thanks to the most amazing ask that left me floored and eager to write this up. i hope you all enjoy this and that lovebug is stuck in your head as it was mine for the past couple of days. 

warnings: pure fluff and dovey (for once) being a soft human towards her soulmate, calum. 

masterlist || request

It had happened almost by accident, a moment that was meant to be shared by just the two of them. But Ashton found himself in a lot of these moments when it came to Calum and Dovey, in little pockets of time where it seemed like they were both too lost in one another to realize anything else. He'd been early, the first guest to the monthly band family dinner that the Doves had been hosting since moving into their new house a few months back, Dovey claiming that they needed an excuse to use their new kitchen and what better way than celebrating with the band. He'd walked in through the side door which he knew Calum always kept unlocked since it was closer to his home studio and the guys could just come in and work on songs without ringing the doorbell and having Duke bark up a storm. He had expected to see the two of them procrastinating on making dinner, which was usually the case when it came to band dinner night, but he was instead met by the two of them dancing along to lovebug, a song that reminded Ashton of the Doves in general. He wasn't even sure why he did it but in an instant, he had his phone out and he was recording the moment, a fond smile on his face as he watched his best friend fall further in love. 

Calum loved family band night, he loved being able to spend time with his brothers and their partners, and he especially loved the part where he got to show Dovey new recipes to cook together. They'd been making a new Italian recipe, the smell of fresh tomatoes and herbs filling the kitchen as they both worked in silence, the only sound around them was of the knife against the chopping board and the music playing from the speaker on the counter. Calum had been lost in cutting up some basil that he almost missed the soft gasp that left Dovey when she heard the familiar guitar notes playing from the speaker. Calum recognized the song almost immediately, knowing that it was one of Dovey's favorites because as she had told Calum multiple times during their car rides or when cooking, "the Jonas Brother's were the best band ever and no one, not even The Beatles could compare. Well except maybe your band, Cal, but even then, Lovebug is a banger." Calum never argued with her on that because he knew how special the band was to her and she wasn't wrong, Lovebug was an absolute banger. 

Calum had set the knife down on the counter and made his way over to Dovey, his arms wrapping around her waist as he sang quietly along to the song. He couldn't help but smile as he saw the way Dovey's eyes lit up and her arms wrapped around his shoulders, to pull him in closer. They were both singing to one another, swaying along to the guitar as the world seem to just blur until it was just the two of them swaying and taking each other in. 

It wasn't long until the song started to speed up and Dovey pulled away from him, a fond look still in her eyes as she squeezed both of his hands in hers. Calum had been admiring her ever since he pulled her into his arms, wishing things could always be this way and the pressure of touring or promoting would go away. He hadn't told anyone yet, besides Mali who had gone with him to what seemed like every jewelry store in Los Angeles, but there was a box with a ring in it hidden in his office. He'd bought it a month before, his heart racing every time he thought about getting down on one knee to ask Dovey to spend the rest of their lives together, to become one. He'd been trying to plan the perfect time to ask her, to make it a day she wouldn't forget but it just seemed like life kept getting in the way and Calum kept getting whisked off to a different city for a performance. He'd been planning on taking her next time he was pushed onto an airplane and just ask her in the most romantic spot he could find but-

"Now I'm! YEEEEAAAAHOW!" 

Calum's thoughts were once again interrupted by Dovey, who had seemed to take her performance of the song from dancing with Calum to a full on air guitar performance while she bounced around him. Calum's laugh echoed through the kitchen as he watched the love of his life rock out to a Jonas Brothers’ song while they were meant to be making dinner. He couldn't help but join in on the fun, whipping his head back and forth as he joined Dovey in playing out the guitar riff as he sang along, knowing that Dovey was the one for him and that he was going to be marrying her one day. 

Ashton, who had been staring at the couple and recording them, stifled his laughter and shook his head as he watched them both dance along to the song. He slipped out of the hallway, making his way back to the side yard as the two lovebirds were left panting and in a fit of giggles from their performance. After looking back at the video, he opened up his messages with Calum and was about to hit send when Calum walked out of the house and called his name, the message long forgotten as he saw Calum struggling to juggle a bag of recycling and a very excited Duke on a leash. 

Ashton had gotten a call a few weeks later, Calum speaking way too fast for him to understand and sounding like he had just run a marathon. After telling him to calm down and take a deep breath, Ashton couldn't help but chuckle as he heard the good news about an engagement and Calum asking him to be his best man. Without hesitation, Ashton agreed and congratulated the couple as he switched the call to Facetime, grinning as he saw the Doves with flushed cheeks and teary eyes. With promises of a celebration of their engagement and another round of congratulations, Ashton hung up the phone before Dovey could start crying again and started planning a time where everyone could get together. 

It had started off as a group chat, late one night when Ashton's worries about not getting a present for the Doves' engagement party had him scrolling through homeware websites until all he could think about was Dutch ovens and air fryers. He'd sent out a message to everyone he could think of that had had the honor of spending time with the two weirdos known as the Doves, it was a simple request really, one he knew he'd get plenty of replies from.

"Can you guys send me any videos you have from the Doves?"

It wasn't long before he and Andy were looking through all the videos Ashton had received and sorted through the best clips. After a few hours filled with both of them laughing at how perfect Calum and Dovey were for one another, Ashton's present was complete and ready for the Doves to see. 

Calum had been obsessed with holding Dovey's hand ever since she had started wearing her engagement ring, running his hand over the thing gold band every time he had the chance to. Whenever they were out running errands or hanging out with their friends, his hand would be tightly grasped in hers, his eyes looking down at the ring every once in a while to admire it. Even as Calum drove them to the address that Ashton had texted them at the beginning of the week, with promises of free booze and a celebration of their big news, Calum couldn't help but glance at the ring that was adorning Dovey's hand. 

The party had been filled with lots of congrats from the Doves' friends and family who had all found themselves in a courtyard hidden in the middle of the wine country where flowers decorate the walls and love flowed throughout. It was filled with delicious food and a lot of champagne, not that anyone was complaining too much. But it wasn't until Dovey and Calum found themselves in the middle of everyone facing a projector screen that Ashton had been setting up for the past few minutes with Andy that everyone had settled in their seats and waited with anticipation. Calum looked around the crowd, confusion clear in his eyes as he tried to figure out why everyone was watching them both him and Dovey. 

"So as we all know, we're here to celebrate the fact that these two lovebirds have finally decided to tie the knot!" Ashton grinned as he clapped his hands and chuckled when everyone followed him. "And to celebrate that, our good friend Andy and I have decided to make a video, with the help of many of you here today, to show exactly why these two lovebirds were meant to meet." 

Calum's head cocked to the side as he listened to his best man speak, his eyebrow raising as the projector screen switched from plain white into a picture of him and Dovey with a kangaroo when they had visited Calum's family back home and taken a trip to the zoo. As the picture faded, Calum heard Dovey's laugh playing out from the speaker near the projector, a video of her and Calum from one of the many game nights they'd attended playing out. 

As the rest of the video played out, Calum's laugh joined Dovey as the scene switched and a video of both of them at the latest album release dancing along to Wildflower. Different moments in time showed the way Calum and Dovey's relationship seemed to be something more than either of them realized, something more than just two people who loved each other. It was moments where Dovey was laughing over Calum spotted her from the stage and they both waved at one another, moments where they were both asleep on a couch while their friends argued over the rules of a game, moments where they seemed too lost in one another to even notice anyone recording them. 

Calum glanced over to Dovey, who had been watching the video while squeezing his hand every time she laughed, she had a soft look on her face, one she rarely ever showed to anyone except for Calum when sleep was so tempting but she wanted to stay up and talk the night away. Her eyes were focused on the video that was playing in front of them, too lost in reliving those moments where she thought that no one had been watching nevertheless recording. It wasn't until Calum heard the familiar notes to a song that Dovey loved that he saw the tears forming in her eyes. His own eyes moved back to the screen, watching that moment from weeks ago in their kitchen where they had danced along to a Jonas Brothers' song and had gotten lost in each other, never realizing that Ashton had been recording them. 

It was the moment when Calum had realized that he had needed to ask her to marry him as soon as he could, it was the day where after everyone had left Calum had booked them a trip away where the two of them could take each other in and where no one could stop him from asking her what had been on his mind for a while now. It was all in front of him and Calum felt the breath sucked out of him as he once again was hit with the realization that Dovey, who would have dance parties with him in the kitchen and then proceed to fight with him over the fact that celery was not a delicious treat, was his soulmate and there was no way he was ever going to let go of her, the ring on her finger shining almost as bright as their smiles as the video ended with the one and only, Lovebug. 

[isolemnlyswearpevensie]

He Decided Purple Just Wasn’t For Him | Sirius Black x Reader

Warnings: HARD ANGST without a happy ending, death, mourning, drugs and drug abuse, dark themes

Time/Era: Marauders era

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: After James and Lily die, Y/N watches Sirius fall into insanity. 

Request: Hey could you possibly write young!Sirius Black x reader imagine based on song Colours by Halsey? Thanks a lot xx

A/N: I’m sorry in advance. Sirius doesn’t go to Azkaban in this.

masterlist | read on ao3

Sirius was the most vibrant soul Y/N had ever met. Everything down to his smile was full of color. She absolutely adored him. Sirius could touch her arm or look in her direction, and her dark blue soul would turn into a light lilac.

 Y/N came from a family very similar to Sirius’; she was the heir of a very strict pureblood family, and she was expected to follow her family’s expectations. She had lived up to the expectations perfectly until she hit the ripe old age of eleven. She was sorted into Gryffindor alongside Sirius and suddenly the Noble House of L/N had no daughter. You are no daughter of mine. A howler was sent on the second day of school. The red envelope twisted into the hideous face of Y/N’s mother and filled the entire Great Haul with her shrewd voice. You are an embarrassment to the name L/N. I have never been more disappointed. Y/N felt her cheeks heat up and tears well up in her eyes. This was the most embarrassed she had ever been. That was until a young boy sitting down the table opened his howler. How despicable. I knew you were a problem child but I never thought you would betray your only family like this. The entire Slytherin table snickered at this. The woman’s voice was very similar to Y/n’s mother’s. It was thin and nasally but it spoke with a keen sharpness. When you return home don’t expect to be welcomed with open arms. The young boy looked over at Y/N with a matching sorrowful expression. 

When it came to leave the Great Hall, Sirius came over and spoke to Y/N. She was a good few inches taller than him at this point and he had to raise his head to look her in her eyes. “I’m sorry about that,” He spoke as he rocked back and forth on his heels. “What happened, I mean.” Y/N smiled with half of her mouth, making one of her cheeks puff. “Me too, but hey, at least we can get murdered together.” This made a small smile grace the boy’s face. For some reason, it made Y/N feel warm. 

Sirius’s hair covered his eyes and curled in perfect spirals over his forehead. And no matter how sad he was in the moment, he still had a brilliant sparkle in his eye. Y/N had heard a lot about the Black family as Sirius and Y/N’s parents were friends. She knew that they were one of the most regal families within the wizarding world. Y/N didn’t have the biggest expectations for meeting Sirius. 

Sirius had also heard a ton about Y/N’s family in passing; they were known for owning part of and sponsoring Gringotts bank. Her father was rumored to be in special talk with some of the goblins, thus making the family name worth millions. Sirius didn’t have the best first impression of Y/N, but seeing what happened in the Great Hall, his hopes of friendship rose. Finally, maybe someone would be able to understand some of the deep thoughts whirling inside his head. “I’m Sirius Black.”

“I’m Y/N L/N, nice to meet you.” ~ 

“Do you think he likes me?” Y/N asked Sirius one night during their fifth year. The boy had been picking feathers out of a pillow in the common room, but his fingers stopped immediately at the sound of his companion’s voice. 

Y/N couldn’t help but admire how he looked in this moment. It was 4 am on a Tuesday; the fire was mere ashes in the fireplace and the half-moon shone through the common room window. A moonbeam reflected across Sirius’ features and cast a deep shadow across the bridge of his nose. The low light defined the dark bun on the back of his head and the various fly away hairs that framed his face. He was effortlessly beautiful, even in his striped boxers and ratty Beatles t-shirt. Especially, even. 

Something about the picture in front of Y/N made her feel safe. Sirius sat upright with one leg lazily draped over the arm of the couch, pillow in his lap. Maybe the casual deminer of her best friend comforted her, or maybe it was the lack of school uniform. She didn’t know. Sirius’ head lifted and he made direct eye contact with his best friend. 

“Does who like you? The giant squid?” Y/N grew bashful and twisted in her chair a bit. 

“No, love, Moony.” Y/N’s cheeks dusted a light rose color, which was only intensified as Sirius remained silent. A deep hatred for Remus Lupin filled his stomach.

“No,” Sirius spat, throwing the pillow onto the cushion next to him. “He doesn’t.”

Y/N is taken aback by the sudden aggression towards her. She crosses her arms and sits back in the chair. “Why not? I mean, he keeps walking me to class, he gave me some candy, he-”

“No, he doesn’t. Honestly, Y/N/N, he’s just being friendly.”

“Are you sure?” Y/N’s face twisted in disappointment. “He hasn’t really done those things for any other girl.” “I know him better than you do, Y/N. Trust me.” Y/N couldn’t describe it, but her beautiful, colorful Sirius turned to gray at the moment. 

Remus and Y/N ended up dating for the majority of their 5th year. It was sickenly sweet; the two complimented each other perfectly. Remus loved her with all of his heart, and she loved his company.

 This was around the time Sirius started to distance himself from Y/N. She had no idea what she did wrong. One moment the two of them were staying up late in the common room just to talk, the next moment he wouldn’t even meet her eye. “It’s something at home, it’s not you,” Remus had assured her. That’s the thing, though. He would always tell her about his home life. 

Y/N began to feel empty without Sirius in her life. She would see him in the common room or hanging out with James, and her stomach would rise to her throat. After a while, this began to impact her relationship with Remus. It started off small, but soon escalated into large arguments. 

“Can you stop staring at him? You’re here with me,” Remus said one afternoon as they ate at The Three Broomsticks. They were out celebrating their seven-month anniversary and Sirius just happened to be on a date with a Ravenclaw girl. The two sat four booths away from Remus and Y/N, and they were in Y/N’s direct line of vision. The girl was chatting animately while Sirius pretended to listen. Y/N turned to look at her boyfriend. 

“I’m not staring at him, love, I’m just thinking.”

“Yeah, thinking about him. Come on, give me a break. It’s our anniversary.” 

“I am not thinking of him, Rem. I’m just daydreaming.” Remus pressed his back into the booth and covered his face with one of his large hands. Y/N loved his hands, but they were poor in comparison to Sirius’. 

“I don’t deserve this,” Remus said, gripping the edge of the table and pulling himself to a standing position. “I deserve someone who loves me as much as I love them. And you love Sirius.” 

Y/N stood up too. “I don’t love Sirius, I love you.”

Remus lets out a single, harsh laugh. “Listen, Y/N, you deserve happiness and it’s very obvious I can’t give that to you,” He looks over to Sirius’ table to see the boy’s gaze fixed on him. “But he can. Please, save me the additional heartbreak and just get on with it. For the love of Merlin.”

“Does that mean you’re breaking up with me?” Y/N sniffled. Remus had been her first boyfriend, and to have it end so badly was a shame. She couldn’t lie and say that she wasn’t expecting it, but it still stung. 

“Think of it more like...setting you free.” Remus leaned down and kissed her cheek before walking out the door. Y/N now knew what it felt to be gray.

~

As time went on, Y/N’s gray soul started to morph back into dark blue. She thought a lot about what Remus had told her, setting you free. Maybe he was right, she didn’t exactly know. Y/N spent a lot of time at the lake. There was an old, splintered bench near the shore that had an excellent view of the water. Especially at night. The moon would reflect against the water and make the surface look like liquid silver; sparkling, and swirling against the dark depths. 

“Hey,” A familiar voice said one night. His voice was smooth and silky like he had just finished drinking a warm cup of tea. Y/N could sit and listen to him talk for hours. 

“Hi, Sirius.” Y/N responded, pulling her knee to her chest and tucking it under her chin. She suddenly felt insecure under the gaze she once felt most comfortable. 

“I heard you and Moony broke up,” He said casually, as if he was discussing what he had for dinner. 

“Yeah, you watched it happen.”

An awkward silence fell over the two.

“I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you.” The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them. Y/N sucked in a harsh breath. “Yeah, why did you do that?” There was a pause. 

“I don’t know, Y/N.”

“Yes, you do. Don’t lie to me.” She turned her head to look at him. The moon was casting a dark shadow over his nose, like that night in the common room. Y/N observed how it danced across his skin as his head moved. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth and Y/n could see a hint of the colorful boy she had known for years. 

“It’s embarrassing to admit if I’m being frank,” His fingers fidgeted with a loose thread on his shirt. “I guess I was a bit jealous of Remus.” “You, Sirius Black, was jealous of Remus?” She couldn’t believe his words. 

“I know, it’s stupid.” His back slouched against the splintering wood. It pressed into his skin through his clothing but he didn’t want to move and disrupt the still atmosphere. 

“It’s not stupid, love. I just missed you. Besides, my relationship wasn’t exactly the best, there was nothing to be jealous of.” 

“What do you mean?” His eyes met Y/N’s for the first time since he sat down. 

“I don’t know, I think the entire time I was wishing it was someone else? Every time we kissed I wanted it to be someone else. Every time he called me “baby” or “love” or “darling,” I wanted it to be someone else.” Y/N looked directly into Sirius’ eyes. “Every time we fucked I wanted it to be someone else.” Sirius’ eyes grew dark. 

“Who did you want it to be, Y/N?” She scooted closer to the boy and turned so her body was facing his straight on. She reached out her hand and cupped his cheek, her thumb running against his lower lip. “I think you know the answer to that question,” “Say it, I need to hear you say it.” “You, Sirius. I wanted it to be you.” 

The look in Sirius’ eyes was the most colorful look Y/N had ever seen. 

~

“I think it’s him,” Sirius paced across the floor of his and Y/N’s bedroom. “Remus has to be the spy.”

Y/N placed a gentle hand on her boyfriend’s shoulder and led him to their shared bed. He was wearing all black clothes, having just returned from an Order mission with James. Y/N wondered if Lily was dealing with the same sort of conspiracy from her husband. She thought of Lily bouncing baby Harry on her hip while James paced across their living room floor.

“Remus is not the spy, darling,” Y/N ran a comforting hand across Sirius’ back. His muscles were tensed into tight knots. 

“It has to be someone close to us, and we haven’t even heard from him in weeks. He’s out to get our godson because James didn’t choose him. Or maybe he was manipulated by the werewolves. Completely brainwashed.” “It’s not Remus, end of conversation.” Y/N glanced out the window at all of the Halloween decorations. She loved this time of year. The colors were gorgeous, the atmosphere was spooky, and the weather was amazing. 

“Prongs said him, Lily and Harry are going into hiding,” Sirius said. He took hold of Y/N’s hand and began playing with her ring-clad fingers. Still not the ring she yearned for, but she was more than patient. 

“Hiding? What do you mean?”

“Apparently, You-Know-Who is planning on killing Harry.” Sirius looked solemn. “They asked me to be secret keeper, you know. I couldn’t do it.” “Kill Harry? Why him out of everyone? He’s just a baby…”

“I guess there was some prophecy that included a boy born in July, and it matches with Harry perfectly. The Longbottom’s kid, too.” Sirius let his back hit the mattress and his hands ran down his face. How Y/N loved his hands. 

“Who’s the secret keeper if it’s not you?” 

“I’m not sure. James picked someone,” Sirius lied. “It’s not all bad, I guess. Keeps the spotlight off of you. Us.”

“It doesn’t matter if the spotlight is on me or not, you know that. I would happily die for any one of you.” 

“That’s what I’m afraid of, love.”

~

Sirius was with Y/N on Halloween night. He insisted that the two of them hit the hay early that night as he had been awake for almost 72 hours due to a particularly hard mission. He never spoke to Y/N about his missions, but she knew that this one would take a long time for him to process. Sirius had fallen asleep at such an early hour, that Y/N hadn’t even eaten dinner yet. Still, she tucked him into their bed, kissed his forehead, and turned out the light.He had only been asleep for almost four hours when the doorbell rang. Y/N was finishing a cup of tea in the kitchen when it happened. Puzzled, she grabbed her wand and opened the door. “Ms. Y/L/N,” Albus Dumbledore greeted, pushing his way into the small house. “May I help you?” Y/N had never been particularly fond of the old professor, and his presence made an uncomfortable feeling overwhelm her senses. 

“I actually come baring some unfortunate news.” The way he talked made Y/N uneasy. Why was he so casual about it? “May I ask where Mr. Black is?”

“He’s asleep upstairs, I am sure I can handle the news by myself.” “As you wish,” The old man takes a deep breath. “The Potters have been ambushed…”

~

“Babe, you have to eat something.” Y/N said, pushing a bowl of cereal towards Sirius. It had been six months since James and Lily were murdered. While it was hard for Y/N, it was devastating for Sirius. His smoking had taken on a mind of his own, acting as a gateway drug. He had attempted to hide his activity from Y/N, but that proved to be difficult when he started using every single day. Whether that was alcohol or drugs, he was just happy to be sedated and numb. 

More times than not, he would lash out at Y/N. He blamed her for Lily and James’ death, saying that she should have talked him out of rejecting the secret keeper job. And when she would find him on the bathroom floor, eyes bloodshot with his head in the toilet, he blamed her for not taking care of him.

The thing Sirius didn’t seem to understand was that Y/N was mourning just as much as he was. Similar to his situation with James, Lily had taken Y/N into her wing and added her to the family. It felt like a knife being stabbed through her heart when Albus Dumbledore had declared Lily dead. Sweet Lily Evans with the quick mouth and heart of gold. Lily Potter, the woman who dropped everything to protect her son and loved her husband more than anything, was dead. Even just the thought made Y/N’s stomach twist in knots. 

All of the color within Sirius and Y/N’s lives had vanished. Any beauty had been ripped from their brains and replaced with deep feelings of regret, guilt, and depression. At month four, Y/N decided to visit a therapist to reorganize her brain. She had tried to get Sirius to come with her, but he wouldn’t move off of their sofa. 

“Stop bossing me around,” Sirius responded, pushing the bowl away from his body. His mind seemed to be clearer today, but his skin still had a sickly yellow hue and his eyes were sunken in. Somehow, she had managed to convince him to shower the day prior, so he did not reek of body odor. 

“Sirius, please. You haven’t eaten since yesterday morning.” Y/N was trying to cope as well as she could. Not only was she mourning her best friends, but she was also trying to watch over Sirius. Between therapist visits and tending to her lover, she had taken up journaling and meditation. It wasn’t a cure, but it sure did help. 

“You know what? I’m tired of you acting like you’re so much better than me, with your fancy therapist visits and mental health bullshit. You’re not better than me, Y/N.” His voice was loud, but she knew it was just his sick mind talking. She tried to take everything he said with a grain of salt.

“I don’t think I’m better than you, baby. What I do think, though, is you need to eat your cereal.” She pushed the bowl closer to him and he snatches the spoon from inside the bowl. 

He shoves multiple heaping spoonfuls into his mouth. “Fine, if it will make you get off my back.” Small bits of chewed cereal spray all over the table as he spoke. 

~

“Y/N, I think I need help,” Sirius said one evening, an empty bottle of vodka in his hand. His cheek was laying on her shoulder and his drool was dripping down her shirt. He was dressed in striped boxers and a raggedy Beatles t-shirt, but this time, the fabric had various stains and burn marks. Y/N wiped some of the sweat-soaked hair off of his forehead. 

“Help with what, babe?” 

He lifts the bottle in response. “I want to be happy again.”

The following day, Y/N contacted a drug rehab center. When they arrived, Y/N kissed Sirius’ cheek. 

“I’m proud of you for getting help,” She whispered so only he could hear. Sirius looked as if he couldn’t understand what Y/N was saying. 

“I don’t want to be here, Y/N. Please don’t make me.” His voice came out as a whimper, making Y/N’s eyes grow damp. 

“I know, my love, but this place is going to help you.” Y/N wiped a tear from her cheek. “I love you.”

~

Sirius stayed in rehab for three months before he was released. 

The first time Y/N saw him was magical; his hair was cut short, he had shaven his beard, his skin was back to its normal color and his eyes had regained their sparkle. He seemed to get his colors back. When Y/N ran to hug him, though, he didn’t hug back.

“Sirius! You look so good!” Y/N exclaimed, taking in the new look of her boyfriend. 

“Thank you, you do too.” His voice was monotone and flat, his eyes landing on anything but hers. 

“What’s wrong?”

“I think we need to talk, Y/N,” He led her to sit down on a bench outside of the rehabilitation center. He took a deep breath before continuing. “I’ve had a lot of time to think, and a lot of time to talk to different professionals. I don’t want you to take offense to what I’m about to say because it is anything but your fault.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well, my therapists said I need to take a break from things that are bringing me distress so I can move on and heal.” He looked down at his hands. “And that’s James and Lily’s death. Y/N, every time I look at you I’m reminded of them and the good times we had. I think about how we’re Harry’s godparents. I think about how James always used to kiss your cheek to make me jealous. I think about you and them, Y/N.”

“Are you breaking up with me?” Y/N felt her entire world begin to collapse. 

“I think we need time to heal separately, to deal with this in our own ways. I love you so much and I am so grateful for what you’ve done for me, but I need a break.”

Y/N felt her chest close and her shoulders shake with a sob. She got up from the bench quickly, pushing past Sirius and towards the parking structure. 

She was no longer purple or even blue; she was the color of a thunderstorm. She was the color of a bad day, of paying taxes and skinning your knee. Y/N was the color of pain and she wasn’t sure if she would ever be purple again.

[shiningloki]

“Behind Locked Doors” Playlist

After the amazing response to the “Get On Your Knees And Pray To Me” playlist, I felt it was finally time to formally put together a playlist for my Professor Tom Hiddleston fic, “Behind Locked Doors”. Just like the “Get On Your Knees And Pray To Me” playlist, you will find a collection of songs with Youtube links to listen to each individual song along with a few select lyrics from each song that stand out to me! You can also listen to the complete playlist on Spotify!

Happy listening!

Read “Behind Locked Doors” here

This playlist loosely follows the plot of the story. I recommend listening to the songs in order, but shuffling them is also fine as well!

Listen to the playlist on Spotify

Slow Hands - Niall Horan

"We should take this back to my place" That's what she said right to my face 'Cause I want you bad Yeah, I want you, baby I've been thinking 'bout it all day And I hope you feel the same way, yeah 'Cause I want you bad Yeah, I want you, baby

Slow, slow hands Like sweat dripping down our dirty laundry No, no chance That I'm leaving here without you on me I, I know Yeah, I already know that there ain't no stoppin' Your plans and those Slow hands (woo) Slow hands

Aviation High - Semi Precious Weapons

I like the way you look in my town I like the way you look at my street I like the way you look in my house I like the way you look in my sheets

I like the way you taste with a drink I like the way you taste with a smile I like the way you taste when I sing I like it when its been a while I like it when its been a while

Gorilla - Bruno Mars

Yeah I got a fistful of your hair But you don't look like you're scared You're just smiling tell me daddy it's yours 'Cause you know how I like it use a dirty little lover If the neighbors call the cops, call the sheriff Call the swat we don't stop We keep rocking while they knocking on our door And you're screaming give it to me baby Give it to me motherfucker

Oh look what you doing, look what you done But in this jungle you can't run 'Cause what I got for you I promise is a killer, you'll be banging on my chest Bang bang, gorilla

New Light - John Mayer

I'm the boy in your other phone Lighting up inside your drawer at home all alone Pushing 40 in the friend zone We talk and then you walk away every day Oh, you don't think twice 'bout me And maybe you're right to doubt me, but

But if you give me just one night You're gonna see me in a new light Yeah, if you give me just one night To meet you underneath the moonlight Oh, I want a take two, I want to breakthrough I wanna know the real thing about you So I can see you in a new light

No Control - One Direction

Got the taste on my tongue I don't want to wash away the night before And the heat where you laid I could stay right here and burn in it all day

Waking up Beside you, I'm my loaded gun I can't contain this anymore I'm all yours, I've got no control No control Powerless And I don't care, it's obvious I just can't get enough of you The pedal's down, my eyes are closed No control

Heartbreak Weather - Niall Horan

Yeah I saw you smiling, breaking the silence Telling me just what you want There in the moment, I was reminded I haven't felt this way in a while

Blinded by the sparks We were driving around in the dark Finding reasons to stay where we are

All of my life I've been sleep-walk living Running around the same bars I've been in It can be so lonely in this city But it feels different when you're with me All of my life, it's been heartbreak weather Thinking to myself it won't get better It can be so lonely in this city But it feels different when you're with me

Yeah, it was magic, you were a vision Watching the way your body moves Taking your clothes off, you look in the mirror Telling me just what you want, and I

Was blinded by the sparks I was holding you close in the dark Finding reasons to stay where we are

Flawless - The Neighbourhood

She planned ahead for a year, he said let's play it by ear She didn't want him to run, he didn't want her to fear Nobody said it'd be easy, they knew it was rough But, tough luck

I fell in love today, there aren't many words you can say That could ever get my mind to change She's enough for me, she's in love with me

You're a doll, you are flawless But I just can't wait for love to destroy us I just can't wait for love You're only flaw, you are flawless But I just can't wait for love to destroy us I just can't wait for love

Big White Bed - AJR

All I want is you, my dear We will live up on the tree In a big white house, in a big white bed

Kiss Me - Ed Sheeran

Settle down with me And I'll be your safety You'll be my lady

I was made to keep your body warm But I'm cold as the wind blows so hold me in your arms

Oh no My heart's against your chest, your lips pressed in my neck I'm falling for your eyes, but they don't know me yet And with this feeling I'll forget, I'm in love now

Kiss me like you wanna be loved You wanna be loved You wanna be loved This feels like falling in love Falling in love We're falling in love

Yeah I've been feeling everything From hate to love From love to lust From lust to truth I guess that's how I know you So I hold you close to help you give it up

Save My Heart - Jason Reeves

I want what I can't have I wanna make you mine I don't care what it takes I'm fearless with my heart I'll take it any place I don't care if it breaks I wanna tell you things I never tell myself These secrets hurt like hell, oh Call me crazy, maybe I'm insanely Out of my mind but it'll never phase me If I have to, I'm not afraid to Save my heart for you I'm a rebel even if it's trouble I'ma pull you out from the rubble If I have to, I'm not afraid to Save my heart for you Tell me I'm wrong Turn around and run Still I'm gonna save my heart for you

How Would You Feel (Paean) - Ed Sheeran

You are the one girl And you know that it's true I'm feeling younger Every time that I'm alone with you

We were sitting in a parked car Stealing kisses in the front yard We got questions we should not ask but

How would you feel, if I told you I loved you? It's just something that I want to do I'll be taking my time, spending my life Falling deeper in love with you So tell me that you love me too

Secret Love Song, Pt. II - Little Mix

We keep behind closed doors Every time I see you, I die a little more Stolen moments that we steal as the curtain falls It'll never be enough As you drive me to my house I can't stop these silent tears from rolling down You and I both have to hide On the outside where I can't be yours and you Can't be mine But I know this We got a love that is homeless

Why can't I hold you in the street? Why can't I kiss you on the dance floor? I wish that it could be like that Why can't it be like that? 'Cause I'm yours Why can't I say that I'm in love? I wanna shout it from the rooftops I wish that it could be like that Why can't it be like that? 'Cause I'm yours

Teacher’s Pet - Melanie Martinez

Caught the teacher giving his eyes to a student Thought he pretty cute and she bit her lip back to him Chewing on her nails and her pens while she's dreaming of him And he's fucking in sin, you know he is

She said, "It's for all the right reasons Baby, don't care 'bout grades Just call me your lady If I pass this quiz will you give me your babies? Don't call me crazy You love me but you won't come save me You got a wife and kids, you see them daily Don't know why you even need me"

Teacher's pet If I'm so special why am I secret? Yeah, why the fuck is that?

Meet Me in the Hallway - Harry Styles

Just let me know I'll be at the door, at the door Hoping you'll come around Just let me know I'll be on the floor, on the floor Maybe we'll work it out Gotta get better, gotta get better Gotta get better, gotta get better Gotta get better, gotta get better And maybe we'll work it out

We don't talk about it It's something we don't do 'Cause once you go without it Nothing else will do

Yesterday - The Beatles

Yesterday All my troubles seemed so far away Now it looks as though they're here to stay Oh, I believe in yesterday

Suddenly I'm not half the man I used to be There's a shadow hangin' over me Oh, yesterday came suddenly

Why she had to go, I don't know, she wouldn't say I said something wrong, now I long for yesterday

Back to You - Selena Gomez

You could break my heart in two But when it heals, it beats for you I know it's forward, but it's true

I wanna hold you when I'm not supposed to When I'm lying close to someone else You're stuck in my head and I can't get you out of it If I could do it all again I know I'd go back to you I know I'd go back to you I know I'd go back to you

Kiss It Better - Rihanna

Man, fuck your pride Just take it on back, boy take it on back boy Take it back all night Just take it on back, take it on back Mmm, do what you gotta do, keep me up all night Hurting vibe, man, and it hurts inside when I look you in your eye

What are you willing to do Oh tell me what you're willing to do? (Kiss it, kiss it better, baby) Oh what are you willing to do? Oh, tell me what you're willing to do? Kiss it, kiss it better, baby

All Of The Stars - Ed Sheeran

I can hear your heart On the radio beat They're playing 'Chasing Cars' And I thought of us Back to the time, You were lying next to me I looked across and fell in love So I took your hand Back through lamp lit streets I knew Everything led back to you So can you see the stars? Over Amsterdam You're the song my heart is Beating to

So open your eyes and see The way our horizons meet And all of the lights will lead Into the night with me And I know these scars will bleed But both of our hearts believe All of these stars will guide us home

[snowdice]

One More Dance (Part 11 of the Series “Is There Anything Left of Patton?”)

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Logan/Patton, Virgil & Patton, Logan & Virgil, Roman & Patton

Characters: Patton, Logan, Virgil, Roman, Remy

Summary: Logan and Virgil try to keep better track of their zombie roommate now that they know he can open doors. It doesn’t work.

Notes: Zombie Apocalypse AU, Patton is a zombie

This is the eleventh part of a series of one-shots called Is There Anything Left of Patton?

Previous parts:

“Something Left”

“Someone You’ll Never Meet”

“Food You’ll Never Eat”

“Things You’ll Never Do”

“There Are Things That Are Lost”

“There Are Things That Are Missing”

“And There is a Question”

“Is There Anything Left of Patton?”

“And There is an Answer”

“But What Does It Mean”

My Master Post

In the weeks that followed the macaroni revelation, Logan and Virgil kept a closer eye on the zombie in their home. They intended to keep him upstairs all the time, but a problem with this goal quickly arose. That is, Patton did not want to be upstairs all the time. Logan had even tried keeping him on his leash, but it quickly became apparent that, while Patton certainly hadn’t been able to get off the leash before, he very much could now. Logan had gone to sleep with him tied to a chair one night and had woken up with him in their bed, the leash still tied to the chair, but no longer attached to Patton.

For a while, he and Virgil traded off on watching Patton duty, but they quickly became exhausted and it seemed the moment they took their eyes off him, he was down the stairs to hold staring contests with Roman and Remy. They eventually gave up and let him do what he wanted. Apparently, he wanted to have not-quite conversations with Roman which always managed to make Logan’s blood pressure spike, but Roman would just chatter away while Patton stood there not reacting. Somehow, Roman never suspected anything was amiss and Logan eventually forced himself to relax about it and did his best to get on with life.

It was about a month after Roman and Remy first arrived. Patton was upstairs as it was still early morning and he’d been asleep when Logan had woken, and Logan was watching and silently judging Virgil as he started ripping up the couch once again. “Ugh, where is it?” Virgil asked.

Logan sighed heavily. “Did you honestly lose your hoodie again?” he asked.

“I swear! I swear I put it on the couch last night. Seriously, I didn’t touch it afterwards.”

“And yet, the fact that it isn’t there indicates otherwise.”

Virgil glared at him with a couch cushion in his hands. “You know, you’re kind of a dick sometimes.”

“What’s going on?” Remy asked, chewing on a hunk of bread as he exited the kitchen.

“You know you’re a monster, right?” Roman spoke up from where he was currently laying on the floor on the other side of the room. “There’s jam and honey in the kitchen. Why would you choose to eat plain bread? You didn’t even toast it.”

Remy just rolled his eyes and flipped him off.

“I lost my hoodie,” Virgil said. “Have you seen it?”

“Mmm, nope,” Remy replied, before stuffing the rest of the bread into his mouth. “But I lost my sweatshirt too so tell me if you find mine while you’re looking.”

“Please don’t talk with your mouth full,” Logan said, his face screwed up with his displeasure.

“Wait,” Virgil said. “Your sweatshirt’s gone too? When did that happen?”

Remy swallowed his food and shrugged. “I left it on the armchair last night and it was gone in the morning.”

“Weird,” Virgil said. “I left my hoodie on the couch last night and it was gone in the morning.”

“Ask Patton,” Roman suggested. “I heard him up and about last night again. Maybe he grabbed them.”

“No,” Logan replied, “That’s…” Ridiculous is what he’d been about to say, but then he paused and locked eyes with Virgil. Logan thought for a long moment. “Laundry,” he said softly.

“What?” Virgil asked.

“There was half folded laundry in the living room and blood in the kitchen,” he said distantly.

He turned on his heel and walked out of the room. “Hey, Logan, wait, what are you talking about?” Logan ignored Virgil in favor of continuing down the hall past the steps into a room he hadn’t used since before the outbreak. He heard Virgil and the others follow him and gather near the door to the small laundry room. He flipped open the lid to the washing machine and reached inside. “Is this the sweatshirt you were looking for?” he asked Remy.

Remy took it from him. “Yeah,” he confirmed. “Why was it in there?”

“Laundry and cooking,” Logan said in response. “He was… I believe Patton may have… gotten confused and was performing chores as he would before the outbreak.”

“Oh…” Remy replied.

Logan turned back to the washing machine and pulled out a different article of clothing before holding it out to Virgil. Virgil blinked and then snatched it away, his mouth open in surprise and possibly a small amount of outrage. “Apologize to me,” he demanded.

“…There is no way that I could have known.”

“Apologize!”

Logan pursed his lips. “I apologize.”

“Heck yeah, you apologize,” Virgil said. Then he blinked down at his hoodie. “H-how long has this been going on?”

It was a good question and, while Logan wasn’t sure of the exact date, it quickly became clear that the answer was a while.

There were small things he hadn’t noticed until he looked for them: doors in different positions then they were left, clothing moved about in drawers, the faces of the stuffed animals in the closet sometimes in different places.

Yet the most notable thing was when he’d come downstairs almost 3 months after Roman and Remy showed up to see a bucket in the corner of the living room by the armchair. “I think Patton got a bit confused again last night,” Roman explained when he asked. “I saw him pouring water in the corner, so I put a bucket there. That way it didn’t get anything wet.”

Logan cast his mind back through the months to when the water first started to appear. How much had he missed or looked over with Patton, he wondered. This, whatever it was, had been going on since last December at least as that’s when he’d first noticed the “leak.”

He had no idea what any of it meant.

God, it was really hot today, Virgil thought. Usually he didn’t like to have idle hands, even now, in the middle of July, he was always preparing for the winter, but today it was just too hot for working in any capacity and everyone else seemed to agree. Virgil was currently sprawled out across the couch, his feet over Patton’s lap, Logan was reading a book in the armchair and Remy was laying face down on the floor.

All day, Roman had been messing around with a guitar they’d found on a scavenging trip a couple of weeks ago. He seemed to have finally actually gotten it in tune and was singing some Disney song. Virgil was loath to admit it, but it was actually pretty nice just laying there listening even if, every so often, Patton would make some guttural humming sounds and shift around, trying to get to Roman and the noises he was making. Virgil always pushed down with his feet to keep him on the couch.

Roman finished the song and strummed idly for a few moments. Patton made more sounds in response. Suddenly, Roman snapped his fingers making Virgil jump and look over at him. “‘Here Comes the Sun!’” he exclaimed.

“What?” Virgil asked, squinting at him.

“That’s what he’s been humming all day!” Roman explained. “Ever since I sang ‘Yellow Submarine’! Do you like The Beatles, Patton?” Roman asked.

Virgil was 99% sure Roman was reading way too far into the sounds Patton had been making. Patton always made sounds when people around him were being noisy. Yet, before Virgil could even think of a way to respond, Roman was already on his knees in front of Patton and had started singing softly.

Virgil had to pause because, okay, yeah, maybe he could hear a bit of a resemblance to the noises Patton had been making recently. He watched as Patton reached for Roman like he reached for every moving thing that entered his vicinity, but Roman took it as something that it wasn’t and grabbed his wrist, yanking the man to his feet and almost topping Virgil off the couch.

Virgil panicked and tried to reach out to stop the disaster in progress, but he was too slow, and Patton was already being spun around the room in Roman’s arms as he continued to sing. He saw Logan jump to his feet as well, his book landing on the floor with a thump, but both of them paused when there was a laugh.

Patton was… giggling? Even Roman stopped spinning around to look at him in surprise. He continued to giggle for a few moments and then his face dropped, and his laughter turned to sobs.

“Oh god,” Roman said, horrified, stepping away from him with his hands raised. “I’m so sorry.”

Logan was across the room in an instant, pulling Patton into his arms as Patton full on started to wail.

“I’m sorry,” Roman repeated in a whisper.

“Don’t be,” Logan chocked, and Virgil knew why. It was because if there had been any doubts that there was something left of Patton alive in the form that had shambled around the house for the last couple of years, they were all wiped away the instant you looked at his face right now. Chin trembling and lips pulled taunt, he cried so hard he was shaking with it. Tears poured down his face and splattered on his hands still half raised from where Roman had been gripping them, and the way his breaths rasped was different than the sound of every rattling breath Virgil had ever heard from him. That was a person, 100%. And he knew what was happening at least in this moment. There was no doubt in Virgil’s mind.

“Hi Patton,” Logan said softly, his own tears quickly pooling in his eyes. He reached up to wipe away a few of the tears on Patton’s face. “It’s okay dear. Shh.” Patton reached for him, but not in the mindless way he always did. Instead of scraping against his cheeks again and again, he grabbed Logan’s face between his palms and pulled his head down, so their foreheads brushed together. “Oh, hello my love. Hello. Look at you!” He pressed a kiss to the corner of Patton’s eye and another to his cheek. Logan continued to murmur soft words and started to rock the man back and forth as both of them cried.

“Come on,” Virgil said to the other two who were starting at the scene in confusion. “We should probably give them some privacy.”

Remy pushed himself up to his feet and grabbed Roman’s wrist pulling him from the room into the kitchen.

They all stared at each other for a few minutes. “So…” Remy said. “Like, is he actually a zombie or what?”

Roman gave him a confused look.

“I honestly don’t even know anymore,” Virgil said.

Want to read more? The next part of the series is

One More Chance

[vanchlo]

Gatsby (Green Eyes / 3)

Read the first part, here, and the second part, here! :-)

Blurb Synopsis: With a few months of teaching under your belt, at times you find yourself struggling. Luckily, your boyfriend and teaching colleague, Harry, is there to help you by offering advice or a comforting kiss. Although you’ve only been dating for a few months, you find that there's something special about this man.

Genre: Teacher Harry, fluff, and romance.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 10.4k words, whoops 

Pairing: Harry x Reader

Music Inspo: Happy Together by The Turtles (click to listen) 

Your mind is muddled with thoughts. Remember to send this email today. Make sure to put this in so-and-so’s mailbox. Don’t forget to send that birthday card in the mail. Can’t misplace that sheet you have to make copies of tomorrow for an assignment. Enter those grades. Grade those tests, and those papers. They weren’t wrong, you think, when they said the work of a teacher never ends. As you sit at your desk, the world war two novel you’ve been trying to read lately stares back at you from the sidelines, adding another stick to your pile. A rather massive pile, at that. You knead your temple as the blinking cursor awaits your words on the lit screen. Words that you don’t have yet, and aren’t sure when you will. You’ve found it more and more difficult to send the hard emails home to parents, and even after three and a half months under your belt of teaching, it hasn’t gotten any easier. 

“What’d I say ‘bout bitin’ yer nails?” 

Breaking your stare off with your computer, your eyes jump to your door where you find Harry standing there. 

Placing your chin in your propped hand, you sigh, “I’m sorry.”

“Here, ya look like ya need sumthin’ else t’ chew on,” he murmurs, taking a step into your classroom. Something leaves his hand to fly into the air, skidding to a stop in front of you on your desk. At the sight of the shiny gold wrapper marked by the words, Twix, you return to his eyes with a smile. “Now, wha’s got ya so nervous, bird?”

“I’m trying to write an email home, and not a happy one.”

“Ah, I hate havin’ t’ write t’ose meself, they’re neva easy. Can I help?” he inquires, taking slow steps into your classroom. When your laptop sounds with a chime!, the alert for a new email, your eyes leave his tall figure. 

His question goes unanswered on accident with the appearance of the email loading before your eyes. The words start to trickle into your mind, and with their absorption, the heaviness felt in your heart grows. 

“Hullo? Anybody home in there?” Harry laughs, his feet stopping in front of your desk. You don’t answer, and you barely see him lean to the side to look at you. “Hey, wha’s tha matta?” he questions, his tone suddenly changing. Gulping, no words come to you as the ones on your screen shoot icy fear into your veins. Your name falls from his mouth as he walks over to you, stopping behind you. 

“I have to be observed,” you groan, your face falling into your hands. “Later this week,” you finish with a whimper, your shoulders sagging. 

“Oh it’ll be okay, love. We all have it done once a year, ‘s only t’ benefit ya. ‘s fer feedback. Ya don’t gotta worry. Principal’s observation ‘s at tha end o’ tha year,” he tells you, his soothing voice turning irritating at the last part. You respond with a whine, but you find that you can’t remain upset with him when his arms come around you. “Ya’ll do great, bird. Don’t fret. I know things have been stressful lately fer ya, so try not t’ let it botha you.”

“But it does. I already feel like I’m not doing a good enough job, and then somebody has to observe me, ugh. I’m going to be so nervous that I’ll probably screw up even more,” you exhale, hiding away from your fears, but soon you feel your chair spin around. Tearing your hands away from your face, you open them to find Harry squatting in front of you. 

The mere sight of the dimples in his cheeks and the glint in his eye eases the tension felt throughout your body. A second later, you’re unsure of that when your sight graces the ebony dress shirt rolled up his taut arms, and the mustard slacks hugging his thighs. Yeah, there are a whole lot of reasons to make you feel tense around this man, and on the other hand he makes you feel at ease. Talk about confusing, when one thing has both effects on you. Ugh. 

“Yer too hard on yerself, birdy. Ya gotta stop it, I don’t like seein’ me girl feel so down,” he hums, his thumb painted in cracking hot pink nail polish tapping your nose. Even just the thought of how he’ll let you paint his nails the next time he comes over to your house makes you feel better. By now, he doesn’t even bat an eye when you ask him, and by the look of his battered nails, anticipation grows inside of you at the thought. “Now, why don’t ya try t’ forget ‘bout tha observation, and lemme help ya write tha email t’ tha parent? Then we can leave and ya can come ova t’ mine, and I can cook ya a nice dinna.” 

His lips split into a smile in front of you, sparking one on your own. “Has anybody ever told you that you’re the best boyfriend in the world?”

“Hmmm, I dunno, maybe. I can’t recall, but I wouldn’t complain t’ hear dat a few more times,” Harry smiles, leaning forward to surround your lips with his. Yours curl into a smile as his fingers dance across your cheek and into your hair. 

“Harry, the email,” you begin after breaking the kiss. 

“Shh, lemme have a kiss first. ‘s been too long,” he almost laughs, pressing his lips back to yours.

“I saw you in sixth hour in the copier room and you got one then,” you interrupt, knowing that you’re getting on his nerves. 

“Too long,” is all he says impatiently, replacing his lips on top of yours. 

Relaxing, you move yours together with his and soon find your hands running along his cheeks prickly with facial hair. They run down the expanse of his warm neck, his tamed beard soon fading away. Pads of your fingers collide with the chain of his necklace hidden under his shirt, signaling you’re almost there. You let a grin slip, impeding the kiss, when you can feel his taut chest under his button up. Finally.

“Like what yer findin’?” he asks, laughing against your mouth. 

“Mmmhmm,” you answer slyly, peeking open your eyes to find his on yours, mere inches away. “Maybe we should write dat email now. Don’t wantcha gettin’ too carried away now,” Harry hums pulling away, much to your disappointment. “No, yer not gonna get me with tha pout again, so dontcha try it now.” He wags a finger at you as his words play on his face. Feeling risky, you reach forward and bite at the tip of it, smelling the cinnamon lotion he has a bottle of on his desk. 

“Ya betta watch it, bird!” Harry chuckles, the smile taking grasp of him now, as well as the laugh that sings to your ears. 

“Or else what?” you reply, wiggling your eyebrows at him. 

“Open yer email befo’ ya convince me with that adorable face o’ yers.”

You ignore him and continue to stare at him, happiness and longing showing in your eyes. You’re certain that he sees it too, you’re just not sure what he’s going to decide to do with it. His bottom lip comes between his teeth as his green eyes stare into yours, him standing only a step away from you. Although it’s the slightest movement, his hands starts to trail from the back of your chair. 

“Birdy,” he begins with a warning, shaking his head at you, that song leaving his strawberry lips again. Suddenly, you wish he was wearing a tie today so you could grab a hold of it and pull him in by it, but alas he’s without one today. “Don’ test me.”

His words are hypocritical, meaning one thing as his face tells you another story entirely. Somehow, they have the opposite effect on you, egging you to go further with the teasing. You enjoy pushing his buttons, another thing that he knows far too well by now. Your fingers sitting limp on your legs itch to touch him, and roam his body. Those curls, his bearded cheeks, that muscular chest, or those thick arms. Maybe even all of him. 

“We can have a good snog at me house tha sooner we get dis done,” Harry cautions, only worsening the pout forming on your lips. He reacts to it promptly, with that lip-biting returning, and his fist coming to his mouth. As if he has to refrain from saying, or doing, something. 

“Why can’t I just have one more now? It won’t hurt,” you plead, letting your chin fall a tad, allowing you to look up at him through your lashes. 

“‘m in real trouble with ya, aren’t I, birdy? Go’mme wrapped ‘round yer li’l finga like there’s no t’morrow, dontcha?” Harry teases, slowly leaning in, his arms bending at his wrists where they lay planted to your chair’s armrests. 

“Yeah, just the way you like it,” you note aloud, the anticipation buzzing in your gut as he draws near. 

“Yer right ‘bout dat, darlin’. Couldn’t say no t’ ya if I tried, thinkin’ that might ge’mme in trouble one o’ these days,” Harry finishes with a snicker before the taste of oranges meets your lips, and his beard is tickling your skin. Just the way you like it. 

* 

“Ravioli or pasta?” you hear float from the kitchen. 

It’s a wonder you hear him as your thoughts are consumed by his bookshelves. Although you’ve been to his place several times now, you’re still enamored by trying to familiarize yourself with the items he chose to live with him. 

The acoustic Taylor sitting in the corner on a stand. The Monet prints dotting his walls, along with those of The Stones, The Beatles, Fleetwood Mac, and Pink Floyd. The pink ukulele hung on his wall that he made you laugh with while playing a rendition of Somewhere Over The Rainbow the first time you came over. You swear that his blankets are the coziest and warmest. He also makes the best fires in the fireplace, even making s’mores for dessert the first time you came over, making quite the impression. The last time, you had devoured his record collection, flipping through it and playing the few that interested you at the time. You even like the silly napkins with sayings on them that he has in the kitchen. Now, you’ve returned to his book collection that seems to grow by a few each time you’re here. 

“Why do you have Shel Silverstein here, but not at school?” you call out to him, feeling the change in texture of the book spines, the tip of your finger ghosting over them. 

“‘Coz tha’s a copy from when I was li’l. Now, ya didn’t answer me question. Which d’ya want me t’ make, bird?” he replies gently, his deep voice carrying down the hall from the kitchen. 

Once again, his words drift by unnoticed as you carefully remove a copy of a novel that catches your eye, The House on Mango Street. You’ve found it before on his shelves at school, and the cover has always enraptured you, but you’ve never found the time to pick it up. Turning it over, your eyes flit over the description on the back of the thin book. 

“Hey, ‘m talkin’ t’ ya, birdy,” a voice murmurs, their words dancing across your neck with a tickle. “Tryin’ t’ figure out what t’ make us fer dinna.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I was just looking at this book. I’ve always meant to see what it’s about,” you comment, turning your head back ever so slightly, but you don’t need to do that to know he’s there. His arms have surrounded your waist and his beard tickles against your temple, lips soon dotting kisses along that space. 

“‘s okay. Ah, so this ‘s where yer always runnin’ off t’ when ya come ova. Got meself a book worm fer a girlfriend, I like it. Findin’ anythin’ good? Ya know ya can borrow whateva ya want, love. I know ya’ll take good care o’ it,” Harry coos in between feathery pecks he plants down the side of your face. “‘s a good one too, bird. I teach it every year. Tha students enjoy it too. Ya might come t’ teach it too, I think, since we’re both teachin’ American Lit. this semester,” Harry comments, soon his nose making an appearance tickling your cheek. The words on the back of the book were beginning to blur before your eyes, but they’re forgotten altogether when his fingers brush against your belly, clasping together there. 

“Thank you. I suppose I should read it already then.”

“Yeah, ‘m surprised ya haven’t already. Borrow it and take yer time with it, ya’ll enjoy it. ‘s a bit sad tho’ from what I rememba. Now, ravioli or pasta? Was thinkin’ a salad on tha side, marinated chicken, and sum berries,” he finishes, the safety his arms provide you with soon fleeting. Looking over your shoulder, he walks away and back to the kitchen, noting that he needs to get the pasta water boiling. 

As your eyes trail to his bum round in his gray jogging shorts, a cheeky answer begs at your lips instead. He pipes up again with an inquisitive ‘well’ and your response falls from your lips, “Ravioli, please.”

He hums a confirmation from his new perch down the hall, the sounds of cupboards opening and things being jostled around soon following. The rest of the book’s summary passes your eyes before you set it down on the arm of the brown sofa, forgotten as soon as he had walked in. Passing Harry’s favorite reading chair in the corner accompanied by a tall lamp, you tiptoe through the narrow hallway marked by framed pictures on the walls. You hear his soft singing as you round the corner, happening upon his towering figure to your left, standing at the stove. Taking a page from his book, you slide across the wooden floor in your socks, quickly capturing him with your arms. 

“Boo!” you whisper into his ear, feeling him jump in your arms. 

“Don’t scare me like that, coulda burned me hand,” he warns, but when you chance a look at the pot of water below him, you find him to be a fibber. 

“You don’t even have the gas on yet, silly,” you murmur in argument, dragging your nose along his freckled neck, paler from the winter months. 

“So? ‘m tryin’ t’ cook here,” he argues, although terribly, because a giggle escapes his candy-like lips. Ones you very much would like to kiss right now, and perhaps taste, and nibble. Nodding into his shoulder, your hands unravel to explore the toned expanse of his stomach under his shirt. “Bird,” he says firmly, the cracking sound of the salt grinder following his words. 

“I’m just helping you cook,” you explain feebly, brushing the pad of your thumb against his wispy happy trail. If you focus hard enough, you think you can remember from the times at the beach where his tattoos are, because they don’t feel any different to the rest of his skin. The fern leaves, the butterfly, and then the swallows below his collarbone. 

“Yer pushin’ me buttons again. Ya know I don’ like it,” Harry grumbles, trapped within your grasp when he turns to grab the package of refrigerated ravioli from the counter. 

“I’m sorry, can’t I just hug my boyfriend?” you whine, feeling your voice catch at that last word, even after two months. 

“Don’t play that game with me, go read yer book or sumthin’. Catch up on sum gradin’, you’ll thank yerself later fer doin’ so, and me.”

“You’re no fun,” you whimper, hands stilling amongst his toned abdomen and soon returning to your body. Cheekily, you give in to your temptations and pinch his bum hastily, running off with a giggle. 

“Birdy!” Harry calls after you, trying to hide the laugh in his voice, but you’re doing enough laughing for the both of you. You don’t hear the sound of his booming footsteps following you, and so you plop onto his sofa with a relieving sigh. “Remind me not t’ give ya more than two glasses o’ wine, ya get all weird afta two.” 

“I do not!” you exclaim, pressing the power button on the remote for his tv. 

“Ya do too! Grabbin’ me bum and gettin’ all handsy unda me shirt,” he contends with a scoff that dissolves into a titter. You respond with a ‘hmmph’ loud enough for him to hear as your head hits the velvet pillow at one end of the sofa, body splaying out to cover the rest. 

“I’ll say it again, you’re no fun!”

“Oh, give it a rest!” is all Harry says disbelievingly, meanwhile you pout as you try to immerse yourself in an episode of The Simpsons. 

It’s one of those Halloween specials, you’re not sure which one as there were several, even though Halloween was very nearly two months ago. Turning up the volume, you try to drown out the sound of pots banging together, and packages crinkling. You even attempt to mask the sound of his voice, the wine buzz securing you in your own little bubble, and a lonely one at that. 

“Babeeee,” you finally hear, along with the soft padding of his slippers nearing you. “Don’ be a crab, y’know I don’ like bein’ botha’d when ‘m cookin’ sumthin’ hot. Don’ want t’ get eitha o’ us burnt. I’d do tha same if I had kids and they were ‘round,” he mumbles, his footsteps coming to a pause, and so does your heart at the sound of his words. 

“Me li’l birdy,” Harry coos in a sing-song voice, the whine of the ancient wood floors marking his arrival. His calloused fingertips along your forehead and through your hair are difficult to ignore, as are his sweet lips smelling of Roscato against your skin. “Don’ be upset with me please, ya know I can’t handle it. Ya wanna come help me cook? You can chop up tha salad if ya’d like, well as long as yer hands are okay afta those glasses o’ wine.”

“Nah-ah,” you deny, rubbing your face with your hand, growing sleepy from the alcohol. “You don’t want my help, and I’m all dizzy.”

“I do want yer help, that’s why I asked. Hmm, dizzy, are you?” he queries, drawing your attention upwards to where he kneels beside the sofa, head hanging over yours. “Does this make ya dizzy too?” he grins upside down for you, pressing a quick kiss to your mouth. A smile hints at yours after the kiss ends, him raising an eyebrow. 

You shake your head ‘no’ and he clucks his tongue, dipping in for another kiss, this one longer than the last. You’d choose to grow dizzy from his intoxicating lips over anything else, again and again. The bite of the alcohol follows the sweetness of the white wine he had poured you both glasses of, his still being nursed in the kitchen. The chill to his pillowy lips is shocking against your warm lips, but it’s forgotten when your fingers drift to his hair. You’ve only gotten a taste of his scrumptious top lip before he pulls away, having kissed you in an odd way, upside down. 

“Ya still upset with me?” he breathes against your lips, rubbing his nose against yours ever so slightly, a smirk edging at his lips. 

“I won’t be after one more kiss, and a cuddle,” you insist, testing your limits, but by now you’re fairly certain what you can get away with. Sometimes it surprises you how much, from stealing his favorite pen from his desk, grabbing his butt in the breakroom, knicking a sweater from his closet the last time you were over, or spamming him with texts of songs he wouldn’t ever listen to but he still does, for you. 

  “Alrighty then, c’mere, birdy,” he smiles before he melts against you in a kiss, once again. 

Soon, he’s scooping his arms under your legs and settling you on his lap, sinking into the sofa. Your head finds a home below his collarbone, legs draped across his lap and your bum hanging off the side of it. 

“I forgot ya get all tired on me afta alcohol. I gotta rememba t’ only dole it out when tha sun ‘s still up,” he giggles, the sound reverberating around in his broad chest under his Paul McCartney & Wings shirt. His fingers surround one of your hands, holding it to his chest as his other cups your waist where he holds you against him. 

“Yeah,” you mumble softly, trying to focus on the tv show, but it’s a lost cause. 

With his refreshing citrus smell enveloping you, the notes of the tangy orange he eats by sections every day clings to his skin somehow. Dreamily, you admire his neat beard for the hundredth time, smiling adoringly at the little patches he hates that don’t grow in all of the way. For some reason, you love them even more, wondering what his cheeks look like underneath all of the dark brunette hair. 

The show is forgotten at the recesses of your mind, and instead, your attention revolves around Harry, much to your surprise. The rhythmic rising and falling of his chest. The scattering of ink covering both arms, top to bottom. The dark curly hair donning his chest if you nudge the collar of his shirt down far enough. Even the steady beating of his heart grabs your focus, leading you to the slight pause and wake of it at the corner of his neck. Perhaps your most favorite of all is a hard tie between watching the execution of his facial features, or playing with his hands. One he minds quite more than the other, but you think he’s starting to get used to it. 

Your fingers that look puny in contrast to his run over the minuscule hairs peppered across his knuckles, yet another trait of his you adore. It’s rare there’s one you’ve found of his that you don’t enjoy immensely. They fall against his, feeling the lukewarm metal decorating his fingers, and he doesn’t even pause. Scooting your eyes away from his hands quickly, you try to forget the inviting veins bulging from his skin you so often like to get lost tracing. They flit now to the almost indiscernible dimples caving into his hairy cheeks, eyes gleaming as he titters at something on the tv. It all ends much too soon and you’re caught in the act, his gaze falling to yours. 

“Whatcha lookin’ at me fer?” he wonders aloud, the space between his brow creasing. You resist rubbing it free, finding you don’t have the time to when his lips press a kiss to your nose. “Water’s boilin’, I should go start tha chicken. Ya can help if ya want, but ya don’t hafta, love. Don’ want ya cuttin’ those pretty li’l fingas o’ yers.”

A nod suffices for your imaginary words, and so does the curling of your lips that part, “I like you,” you mumble, eyes glued to him, much like a puppy dog. 

“I like ya too, birdy. Quite arguably tha best thing that’s happened t’ me in a while, you are,” he rasps, voice dripping of honey at the arrival of his words. The look painting his face tells you that he knows it too, and you can taste the honey when he pecks you. “Like ya so much I can’t believe it sumtimes.” 

*

You both knew within the first week of school that having your prep hour during the same time in fifth hour, although coincidental, was perhaps not a good idea. It was uncertain whether the demons of the world or the angels of it had arranged this, seeing as you soon distracted each other from getting much prep done for that day’s lessons, grading, what have it. The both of you got on each other’s nerves regarding it at times, him more so than you, but you’re rest assured you both were grateful for it. 

Like today, you can’t stop jiggling your knee as you listen to Chopin while grading papers on the interpretable meanings of the scarlet A from The Scarlet Letter. Harry had gotten quickly upset with you yesterday when you had hogged too much of his prep hour with kissing and talking, noting that he had already been interrupted by another colleague. Today, you’re trying to give him his space to get his work done, but you find it exhausting staying away from him, much like you always do, and have to already. The temptation is even worse when he’s less than fifty steps away, and with those lips that should be downright illegal. His snap at you still stung, if only a little, and you can’t find your focus seeing that you’ve hardly seen him around today. 

Sometimes you feel pathetic and he’ll joke that you are too, melting into a puddle like The Wicked Witch of the West from not having seen him enough. You know that you are, but the realization doesn’t make you feel any better. Neither do you when a second later, speak of the devil, you hear his voice outside your ajar door. It mingles with another, and this one mentions your name, you’re rather sure. Harry shushes the other person with a laugh, and when the voices have paused, you return your gaze to the marked-up paper you’re grading. Turning up the music on your desktop, you sigh as you start reading the sentence over again, for the third time. 

*

Relief buds at the tips of your limbs as you gather your things from your desk around quarter to four, positive Harry’s after-school Poetry Club should be over by now. It’s stolen away as your fingers dangle on the handle of the door, his door closed with his nifty store-like sign turned to CLOSED. Sighing, your face creases into a messy line at the sight of it, your fingers soon composing a text to him that goes unanswered. 

Looking both ways down the hall, when the coast is clear, your heels click across the hall to place you at his door. Again, it’s unlocked to allow the custodial staff to come and clean soon. Bingo! Blanketed in darkness, few streams of light make their way in past the new snow blanketing the campus grounds. You don’t need much light anyways, and after setting your things down on a desk, you settle in his chair. The squeaks are almost all the way out of it, you notice, as you pull on the chain to the vintage green lamp at the corner of his desk. A new addition. Albeit a few scattered pens and lists, it looks much the same since the last time you were in his classroom. You quickly find a pad of Post-Its, green this time, and a pen that’s a fun color. Licking your lips with an excited smile, the sadness of missing Harry is abated by getting the chance to sneak a note onto his desk, which you’ve found is far harder to do these days. You leave with a smirk donning your lips, and a few Bit-O-Honeys to tide you over until the next time.

Harry,

Do you have any plans this Saturday? I might know a certain girl who is planning on making homemade pizza, and who thought you might enjoy it. If you’d like to, I can let her know and pass your name along. I’ve heard she’s a rather good chef, just don’t get too many glasses of wine into her, or else she turns into a real fruit loop. 

P.S. I wish there were words for how I feel about you, but being the English nerds we are, I think that gives you a little advantage to understand once I find those words. Have a great day, my love.

Your Birdy 

xoxoxo

*

Huffing, you stab at the button again, but you still receive the same error message from the copying machine. Forgetting it, you log out before turning around, which wasn’t a great idea either, you find. A quiet squeal leaves your lips when you find Harry standing in front of you, grinning at his success from scaring you. 

“A li’l jumpy this mornin’, are we?” he smirks, sliding his covered arms into the pockets of his gray slacks. 

“Yeah, you could say that, and the copier hates me this week,” you return, walking past him and over to the shelf of supplies in containers. 

“Oh, ya can use me code if that helps. Maybe it senses ya hate it,” he giggles, now behind you. Your nod suffices for a response as you drag your fingers through the sea of pens, searching for one color. 

“Thanks, I appreciate it. Ugh, there’s never any red pens when I need one,” you sigh, annoyed. 

“Ya know ya can take one from me stash anytime ya need,” he insists, humming a tune as he taps his foot. You mumble another small ‘thanks’ before moving onto another container. 

“Hey, why ya bein’ all shy?” he inquires, his gentle fingers soon encircling your wrist, turning you to face him. Again, you wonder how he can look more handsome every day, even in a dorky gray pull over vest with a cream button up underneath. 

“You said we can’t do PDA in school.”

“‘s tha copier room and nobody else ‘s here, bird. ‘s fine, y’know that by now,” he argues, pulling you into his arms easily, manipulating you like soft clay. Trying and failing to hide a frown, his brow knits together in confusion. “Why ya bein’ all weird, hmm? Gonna tell me?”

“You don’t let me come and bother you during our preps anymore. You got all mad at me,” you confess blearily, letting your head come to rest on his shoulder. Hastily, you remove it and leave his arms, sure somebody will walk in the door at the least convenient second. 

A laugh sings from his lips as he follows you, winding an arm around your waist. His lips are soft against your cheek, the stubble framing it becoming normal to you by now, although a scratchy nuisance. Now, he’s made his way to stand in front of you, blocking you from the packs of Crayola markers you were eyeing up for a project. 

“‘m sorry I got mad, okay? Jus’ had loads o’ stuff t’ get done, knew I shouldn’t have snapped at ya, tho.’ I regret it now . . . . Will ya forgive me?” he begs, sticking out his bottom lip, making him even more irresistible and delectable. Shiny curls fall over his forehead from his mousy hair that’s shorter on the sides after his recent cut. 

After checking the door, you surprise his lips with an all-forgiving smooch, welcomed by the bitter taste of black coffee on his lips. Like always, it draws to an end far too soon, and this time by the tinny ringing of the first bell. 

“Betta get goin’, bird. Don’ wanna be late,” he teases, brushing his nose against yours. A short yelp escapes your lips when his hand squeezes your ass before he saunters off after another kiss. 

“Harry,” you mutter, shaking your head, squeezing his hand briefly before you enter the halls together. 

Although you’ve become accustomed to it, it still feels strange to slide on another mask once you step into the halls. Sometimes even the school. You feel them and you know they’re there, the stares from the students. The rumors buzzed around the beginning of the year about you and Harry, but with his help, they never got to you. Neither of you have ever confirmed anything to anybody, and luckily you haven’t had to so far, even amidst the continuing rumors. 

Nonetheless, you still share with the other the stories of your students teasing the both of you about dating the other. You only fed the fire when you dressed up together for Halloween, or when your classes often combined together in the computer lab or library, or on the rare occasions, they have a large Jeopardy game or group project together. More often than you like to admit, you get carried away and entertain the freedom that would come with being able to say ‘yes’ to your students when they ask if you’re together. That would only call for one occasion, though. One that is quite far down the future road. As your eyes wander along Harry, a couple months in and you can’t deny that this isn’t just another boyfriend. No siree. 

“What d’ya got on tha agenda t’day, love? Ya startin’ anythin’ befo’ break?” he asks you, pulling you from your reverie, probably for the best. 

“No, we’re wrapping up the unit this week before testing next Monday on the last day. The Scarlet Letter, Frankenstein, Grammar Do’s and Don’ts, and the Transcendentalist Writers,” you explain, folding your hands together and letting them fall to the waist of your long wine-colored dress. Dark tights hug your legs, but the spotty heating inside of the school makes you miss the black cardigan sitting at your desk. 

“Mmm, same here. ‘s a good day t’ do it, can’t really introduce anythin’ befo’ Christmas Break. They’ll all forget it by tha time they return in two weeks. We jus’ have a chapta left in most classes: Hemingway, To Kill A Mockingbird, Huck. Finn, and Robert Frost,” he comments, hands hidden away in his slacks. Often you’re grateful for it, the removal of the temptation for you. Then again, it tempts your eyes that like to dance across the tightness of his slacks, but you quickly avert them.

“That’s good, only three more school days counting today, and one more until my observation,” you huff, finding it arduous to keep the nerves surrounding the event at bay. 

“You’ll do fine, love, I keep tellin’ ya that. Ya gotta believe me one o’ these times,” Harry coos, coming to a stop when you round the corner, your classrooms only a few steps away. To your surprise, his long fingers spread warmth across your skin with a pat to your arm, a rare one at that. “Have a good day, don’ let tha kids get t’ ya yet. Only a few days left. ‘ll talk t’ ya later.”

“Thanks, I hope you have a good day too,” you echo, containing the smile you send him halfheartedly, always careful about how you act towards each other around students. He winks at you quickly before turning away with that delightful smile playing around his lips, making you wonder how long again until you can kiss them. 

*

His luscious curls make your fingers itch to touch them, but as you linger in your doorway watching him, you know that you’ll have to wait. After biding your time for a few seconds for the students to leave him after receiving help, with a mental shrug you decide you’ll wait. Soon, you find yourself in the office. Colleagues meander around the room, the secretary speaks on the phone, and a parent or two or waits for them. After a few smiles and greetings, you arrive at your mailbox. First, you pluck the bag of Bit-O-Honeys from your pocket, sticking them in his box with a note already taped to them. After fishing out the few papers sitting in there, your hand brushes against something on the bottom, but you don’t see anything when you look again. With a quirked brow, you stand on your tippy toes, spotting a lime green Post-It note stuck to the bottom piece of wood. A smile quickly consumes your face as you pluck it from there, sticking it to the first paper on top of your pile, not wanting to raise any kind of suspicion. You and Harry do your best to be extra careful, not wanting to give anybody a reason to pry, and by now you’re both positive nobody has any true reason to doubt your story. 

Your heels dig into the sides of your feet after your long day, making you quicken your pace back to your classroom. The frown creasing your features is soon replaced with that grin from before when you turn into your classroom, finally taking a peek at the note. 

Birdy- 

You’re not very good at this whole Christmas list thing, are you? I’m still wondering what you’d like. Mind helping a silly old man out before the holiday rolls around? I hope your day is going swell. Don’t hesitate to come and say hi during prep, you know you’re always welcome. You’re the best kind of distraction, you’re just a little too good at it sometimes ;) You’re looking too gorgeous in that dress today, and so I’ll need you to stop by so I can give you a proper snog in private, pronto. 

Harry xxxx

P.S. - Homemade pizza sounds lovely, I can’t wait. You spoil me (: 

P.P.S - You have no idea how much you mean to me, bird xo

“Verdict on tha possibility o’ that snog?” somebody murmurs, their voice followed by the soft whoosh of your door closing. To no surprise, Harry leans against the door unable to hold back the happiness showing on his face. 

“I think it’s a yes,” you answer slowly, placing the stack of things on your desk, but not moving an inch. You want to toy with him and make him work for it, but as always, you can’t resist him. 

“How was yer day?” he mumbles once your arms come around his middle, brushing against the knit sweater vest. Sometimes he dresses like older colleagues and other days like his young age, but nonetheless you can’t help but think he’s the best dressed of any male teachers here at the school. He’s just too goddamn handsome that he can pull off anything.

“Good, we finished all of our readings in my classes. I get to be observed doing review tomorrow, so I hope the observer likes my Jeopardy games,” you comment, slipping your hands under the fabric, feeling the warmth projected from his body. 

“‘m sure they will, love, ‘s a good idea ya came up with. I know it took loads o’ work doin’ four o’ ‘em fer tha four different classes ya have throughout tha day. What time ‘s yer observation, ya neva said?”

“It’s during my fourth hour, before lunch,” you answer, him humming a short reply. “You really think I look that nice in this dress? I thought I looked frumpy and too tall,” you question, pursing your lips as you take a look at your long plain dress. 

“Yes, think ya look amazin’, bird. Couldn’t keep my eyes off o’ ya all day wheneva I saw ya. Yer gonna make me slip up one o’ these times, and make me blow our cover,” Harry snickers, stepping forward to sink his fingers into your hair, a thumb falling to address your cheek. A knowing smirk tempts your lips, and it only worsens when his tongue comes out to run over his. “Think ya know that already, tho’ - y’know what ya do t’ me, dontcha?” 

You silently shake your head, but the smile makes an appearance, and your lie is free to the air. His breathy laugh mingles with it before he takes them away, scooping your top lip between his. His kisses fill you with a warm giddiness, one that leads your hands to leave his strong back, and wander down him. Juice from the orange he must have just eaten trickles onto your lips, meanwhile your fingers dip into his pants, just brushing the top of his clothed bum. 

Harry breaks the kiss suddenly, but you’re already giggling. So far, all you receive is an eyebrow raise from him, but his toasty hands don’t leave your cheeks. His gleaming rose lips part, “What’d I say ‘bout those hands o’ yers? Lookie here, they’re gettin’ you in trouble ‘gain,” he tuts, your left cheek soon cold as he wags a finger at you. 

“You never said I couldn’t, and your bum just looks so nice today- well, every day,” you counter, feeling cheeky. His eyes dart from yours as blush rises to his cheeks, pulling up the corners of his mouth along with it. 

“Bird,” he giggles, eyes soon returning to yours. “I dunno what ‘m gonna do with you,” he coos gently, cupping your cheek once more with his long fingers, returning his lips to yours for a kiss. His smile is felt upon yours and you find out why when his tongue prods at your lips, begging for entrance. As your hand slides down to caress his bum, your lips part to let him in. 

Day after day, you wonder just when it was that you let him into your heart, seeing how he’s made a home in there. You just hope he’ll never want to leave. More and more often lately, you keep thinking that you’d like him to stay there, perhaps for forever. 

* 

With chattering teeth and a frozen nose, you only start to warm up once you unlock the door to your room, grateful to get to spend the upcoming weekend inside your cozy home. Thoughts of the cute knit hats Harry wears and how he finds you adorable with your rosy cheeks and button nose pull your eyes to his door. Sighing, you unwrap your scarf, discovering he hasn’t came in yet this morning. Yet another thing to add to his list of acting odd lately at times. Even though you spoke to him through a few texts this morning, you long to hear his voice comfort you about your dreaded observation later today. Unbeknownst to you, he has this magical quality to him that never fails to calm you down, or to make things better. Yet another thing you love about him, you think with a smile, unloading your messenger bag of the materials you bring back and forth from school. 

Once that’s all unpacked and you remember to turn on the lights, as well as the blinking Christmas lights strewn around your room, you get an idea. Pushing his door open, you pull on the gold metal chain of his lamp, your hands drifting to the green Post-Its. The pen slides from your fingers when somebody surprises you with a loud ‘boo!’

“Harry, stop,” you giggle, briefly glancing to the doorway to find him in his puffy black coat. 

“Would ya look at that, I caught ya in tha act. It won’t be much o’ a surprise now,” he titters, softly closing the door behind himself, the hallways beginning to abate their previous silence. 

Shrugging, you pick the pen back up and start to scribble down a note while you still have a few precious seconds left. Smirking, you release your lip you bite on to speak, “I got here before you today, that’s a point for me. I think we’re three-two now for this week,” you tease him, listening to the slushy scuffle of his leather boots along the floor. 

“Ya, I hadda busy mornin’, had sumthin’ important t’ do. Can ya guess what it was?” he murmurs, appearing behind you suddenly, his cheek rubbing against yours softly. A long ‘sure’ falls from your lips, but it comes up short when you think about the sensation of his cheek against your face. It’s smooth and warm, and not hairy. 

“Wait a minute,” you announce, pulling away from him and turning around in his chair to look at him. Seconds after your jaw dropped to your chest, your hand flies to your mouth at the sight of him freshly shaven. “Harry, your face!” For the first time, you finally get to see his dimples on full display, collapsing into his round smiling cheeks. A long giggle escapes them as he runs a hand over them. 

“What d’ya think o’ me all clean shaven? Haven’t seen me without a beard, have ya, bird?” he inquires, raising an eyebrow as a cocky smirk creases his pink cheeks. Within seconds, you’re on your feet and feeling his satiny cheeks under your palms. 

“They’re so smooth, I like them. You look so nice, well I liked you before with a beard too. You’re so handsome either way,” you croon, leaning in to kiss him, tasting the spearmint toothpaste he uses. Your lips wander to his cupid’s bow, the slope below his bottom lip, and across the expanses of his grinning cheeks. 

“Stop,” he giggles, his hands finding a home on your waist, but he’s hard to believe as he leans into your lips. “Don’t think I look weird or less handsome without a beard, d’ya now?”

“No, you never could. Mmmm, I like kissing all over your cheeks,” you hum in between kisses, the musky smell of his shaving cream tickling at your nose. 

“Thanks, bird, ‘m glad t’ hear that. Now, lemme read dis note ya left, ‘m curious now.”

Much to your disappointment, his face soon leaves the clutches of your kisses, him trailing to his desk. Although whining at his absence, you let him, and instead you admire his adorable cheeks. It takes everything inside of you to hold yourself back from pinching them and kissing them. Hints of denial and shock come over you again, unsure of what you’re seeing at times. Never in the last seven-ish months since you truly met Harry, have you seen him without his beard. It’s kind of startling, but you know that he has you wrapped around his finger as well, because it unmistakingly makes you love him even more. Sometimes you wonder how that’s possible, even if you’ve only been official for a few months. 

“Why the change?” you wonder aloud, eyes glued to him as his scan over the note you didn’t get to finish. Lifting his glowing eyes to you, those greens stare back at you, and again you’re knocked off your feet by him. 

“Why not,” he answers with a shrug of his shoulders, holding up the note. “Ya didn’t finish, y’know. Ya started t’ declare yer love fer me and all that jazz, and it ended in tha middle o’ a sentence. Not very proper fer an English teacher, y’know,” he pouts, dragging his feet over to you after his sarcastic words. 

“Well, you didn’t let me finish,” you reply, surrounding his middle once he’s in reach. 

“D’ya care t’?” he whispers against your mouth, his lips ghosting over yours. This man really does know what he’s doing. 

“No thanks, I’m not a ‘put me on the spot’ type of gal.”

“Ah, you aren’t, are ya? Tha’s a new one,” he grins, laying kisses to your cold cheeks, spreading warmth in his trail. 

“Maybe you could tell me something, though.”

“Hmm?” he hums, the feeling of his smooth skin rubbing against yours entirely new to you, but you think you could get used to it. 

“Could you tell me that I’m worrying about my observation for nothing?”

His kisses come to an unnecessary end, but in the end you’re grateful to see his green eyes again, and all of the love they hold. 

“Ya are worryin’ ‘bout it fer nuthin’, bird. Promise ya yer gonna do great, ‘m so proud o’ you and tha great teacher ya’ve become,” he coos above you, tapping his finger to your nose. The words settle inside of you and begin to sink in. “And ‘m not jus’ sayin’ that, hope ya know how much I mean it.” 

*

You tried, and failed, to keep Harry’s words at the front of your mind throughout your day. When the worries would bubble up, you’d try to make them go away with his reassuring voice saying them. At times, it was strenuous, and quickly the idea of eating lunch after your observation seemed ridiculous. That word seemed to align with your day soon, seeing as the powerpoint for Jeopardy wouldn’t work at first, but you blamed the projector. Then as the minutes ticked by and brought you closer and closer to eleven o’clock, shakes started to radiate throughout your body. Your hands grew clammy and you wish it was over with before it even started. 

Your students for British Literature soon shuffled in, dropping backpacks on the floor with groans, itching for Christmas Break to come as well. You can’t help but agree with them, reminding them of this once they’re all seated and the last bell has rung. Inside your chest, your heart feels like it’s trying to break free from its cage as you anticipate a random colleague walking through your door. 

“Hello, everybody. We finished reading Frankenstein yesterday, and to prepare for our test on Monday, we’re going to do some review. I know you all have come to enjoy my Jeopardy games, so I made one for Frank and-,” your introduction to your class is cut off by a knock on your classroom door, making your heart jump inside your chest. “Excuse me, let me just get that first.” With a deep breath, you hurry to get the door, and that breath goes flying out the window when you see who’s on the other side. His name falls from your lips at the sight of him, a clipboard hugged to his chest. 

“Hi, ‘m here t’ observe you fer tha duration o’ yer lesson,” Harry announces, a professionalism coming over his voice, yet a cheekiness is heard at the edge of it. 

“You’re observing me?” you ask breathlessly, earning a proud nod from him. “O-okay.”

“Yer gonna do great, don’ worry ‘bout me. Jus’ ignore me sittin’ in tha back,” he whispers, his warm smile holding more words than the both of you know he can say right now. After a squeeze to your arm, he slips past you into the classroom, flared maroon pants billowing behind him. “Hullo, e’rybody. ‘m Mr. Styles from across tha hall, I also teach English here. Don’ mind me, ‘m jus’ observin’ yer lovely teacher fer a colleague review t’day. Carry on,” Harry says, addressing your class. Swallowing, the butterflies take a peek from their safety inside your chest, soon taking flight to rid you of your worries. 

“As I was saying, I made a Jeopardy game for Frank that we’ll play to review for the test on Monday,” you continue, folding your hands together to sit below your waist. You smile when the class erupts in applause, and even more so when your eyes flit to Harry whose found an empty desk at the back of the room. His head of curls lifts from being bent over the clipboard he writes on, sending you an encouraging wink. “So let’s take attendance to see how many there are of all of you, and I’ll split you up into teams. Then we can get started,” you finish, feeling his eyes on you. Although the pressure is still there, you feel at home in his presence and you don’t even mess up once during your lesson. 

Even if you had, you’re sure he could’ve fixed it with the winks, thumbs ups, and heart wrenching smiles he sends you from across the room.  

*

“So how did you manage observing me when you had a class during fourth, too? And how’d I do by the way?” you begin, wandering into Harry’s open classroom, the hallways almost empty after the end of the school day. Stopping in your tracks, confusion washes over you when the seat at his desk is empty. It would seem likely he had only stepped out, but it only gets weirder when his long coat isn’t found draped over his chair. “Okay then,” you mumble, returning to your classroom with questions blooming inside of you.

Thoughts are recalled in your mind about how odd Harry’s acted on a few occasions lately, namely his unusual disappearances after school. It’s hard to ignore as you work on the last few questions for the test for sophomore American Lit. You’re trying to think of questions from Walt Whitman’s Song of Myself, switching tracks after just focusing on Ralph Waldo Emerson’s Self-Reliance. Although not news to you, you steal a glance across the hall at his classroom that still lays undisturbed, longing for his help with a good Whitman question. Soon, you find your phone in your hands, typing up a text to him asking him where he is, because you need his help. Before exiting your messages, the gray thought bubble appears with an ellipsis, indicating his typing. You wait for a response, but after close to a minute, you forget your phone on your desk nearby.

Giving up, your attention wanders to your staff email. You occupy your time answering a few parent emails, then some staff emails, and reading the important ones from the principal regarding Christmas Break. Your eyes grow far more tired at the sight of one from him about upcoming final exams in January, a time that seems far off from now. As a teacher now, you know that’s not true, and you always have to be ahead of the game. It’s yet another thing you want to rack Harry’s brain about, unsure of how to even create a final, and what to include on it. All you can think of is how much you despised final exams in high school and university, finding little worth in them. You know that you don’t want to be hard on your students, because a cumulative exam is difficult, and a regular exam already is as well. While your desktop plays Disney and Pixar piano instrumentals, your thoughts drift to the few teachers you had who made their final exam less intimidating. Whether it was a test on just the most recent unit you learned, the last book you read as a class, or something silly like throwing wadded up paper balls into the recycling from ten feet away. 

Quickly, they’re disturbed by the twinkling of your cell phone, buzzing along your desk. A budding warmth trickles into your limbs when you see on it the goofy picture of Harry from a day at the beach last summer. New freckles covering his tanned skin, and all pink sunglasses donning his eyes. 

“Hey, where’d you escape to?” you answer casually, dragging your mouse over to pause your music, coming across a song from the movie Up. 

“Oh erm, had t’ run a quick errand. ‘m on me way back tho’, so what’re ya doin’?” Harry replies, clearing his throat which he never does, only when he’s nervous. You try to listen into his voice closer, but you don’t hear anything else besides that, so you try to push it away. 

“Finishing up my Transcidentalism Writers test. I was wondering what would be a good question, in your opinion, from Whitman’s Song of Myself?” you pose to him, your other hand falling from your computer mouse to prop your chin up. 

“Hmmm, tha’s a good question,” he titters, another sound echoing his words, but you can’t make out what it is in the background. “Ya could do a question ‘bout tha theme o’ tha poem, examples o’ figurative language, or ya could have a short response question where they summarize tha poem in their own thoughts, I s’pose. Ya could even- Shhh,” he finishes. He only makes you grow more and more curious as to what’s going on, and why you hear a whine in response. 

“Who are you talking to?” you laugh, narrowing your eyes at the wall you stare at lazily while talking to him. 

“Oh nobody, nobody. Do those erm questions help? Ya like ‘em, bird?” he responds hastily, brushing the strange occurrence away. 

“Okay, whatever you say, and yeah they help. Thank you.”

“Welcome. ‘m almost t’ me classroom, so ‘ll see ya soon, kay?”

“Okay,” you tell him before he hangs up. 

Yawning, you turn back to your computer and quickly write down those ideas in a Notepad document before you forget them. You’re in the middle of typing up the idea for a short response question when there’s a knock at your classroom door. Turning your head, you don’t see anybody at first, so you revert your attention back to your typing. 

“Yeah, who’s there? Harry, is that you?” you reply, your fingers dancing along the keyboard swiftly. 

“No, ‘s me,” Harry’s voice replies, but it’s distorted to sound different from his. It’s more high-pitched, very near to that of a child. Giggling, you look back over to your doorway to find a surprise. “Hi, ‘m a puppy. ‘m a Golden Retriever mix. I jus’ got adopted by me new daddy, Harry.”

“Oh my goodness!” you exclaim, hands flying to your mouth at the most adorable sight indeed. Held in Harry’s two hands, a tan Golden puppy is suspended in the air in your doorway. His tiny furry body squirms in your boyfriend’s hands, a short yip leaving his little mouth. “Harry!” you cry, rooted to your spot. Another exclamation leaves your lips when a yawn leaves the little puppy’s mouth, and then again when his long wagging tail enters your view. 

“‘m only eight weeks and daddy jus’ go’mme, so I don’ have a name yet, but ‘s nice t’ meet you. Me daddy ‘s thinkin’ o’ namin’ me Gatsby afta his favourite book. Whoops, I wasn’t s’posed t’ tell ya that, daddy says ya were s’posed t’ guess that on yer own. Anyways, my daddy and I wanted t’ ask you if ya’ll be my new mummy? He was also wonderin’ if ya wanted t’ come an’ live with us, since daddy told me yer lease ‘s up soon. I dunno what dat ‘s, but what d’ya say? I know we’d have loads o’ fun togetha, and ‘m jus’ so darn cute!” Harry continues in his child-like voice, speaking for the new puppy. Tears soon blur your eyes, but you blink them away quickly so as to not lose sight of the irresistible puppy. 

“Harry!” you cry, getting to your feet and dashing in your heels to the doorway, finding him bringing the puppy to his chest. 

“Hi, birdy. I see ya’ve met me new puppy, or . . our new puppy,” he smirks before you, hitting you with another wave of emotions at his darling words. “Sorry, I didn’t tell ya ‘bout him sooner. This ‘s what’s been takin’ up all me time dis week, and it all happened so fast. Wanted t’ surprise ya, and I think ‘s safe t’ say I have,” he chuckles, removing a hand from around the puppy’s pink belly to wipe the tears from under your eyes. 

“It’s okay. Oh my goodness, look at him,” you almost whine in that voice you use around babies, bringing your hands to his fluffy fur. He turns his head towards you and his tiny black nose wiggles as he sniffs at the air around you. “Hi, little guy. Can I be your new mummy, is that okay with you?”

“‘Course it ‘s, was kinda bettin’ on it. Knew ya’d be a good mummy . . . Wish I could bring him t’ school on Monday, but my sista said she’d take him fer tha day,” Harry coos, lifting your head with his voice. One of those big crinkly-eye smiles claims his face, disappearing from view when he presses a kiss to your lips. Your lips move with his, fingers getting lost in his hair, but it’s over quickly when you start to hear barking below you. “Heeeeey, ‘s okay, li’l guy. I can kiss mummy, if I want t’. What d’ya think, Gatbsy, hmmm? Mummy said she’d make us pizzas t’morrow. Already turnin’ out t’ be a good mummy, isn’t she now?” 

Laughs coat the both of your lips as he lifts the puppy into the air for the both of you to look at. They echo throughout the room when Gatsby wiggles in his arms, moving his gangly legs wildly as if trying to swim through the air. 

“Oh, Harry,” you sigh, encircling his middle with your arms. The puppy returns to his side, and his left arm wanders to around your shoulders. His lips are cold against your forehead when they press a smooch there. You can’t help but to laugh again when the puppy inches over to you, sniffing all over you, long arms dangling over Harry’s. He reaches your face and begins to lick kisses along your cheeks, soon crawling into your arms with Harry’s help. 

“I think he likes his new mummy, I can’t blame him.”

“Oh I love him already,” you confess, losing your fingers in his long fur around his face, ears flopping all over the place. “And his daddy,” you blurt out, widening your wet eyes once the words escape your lips. Glancing over to Harry, somehow that smile has grown even larger, adorned by a fresh wash of pink along his cheeks. 

“You love me?” he murmurs slowly, hand soft against your shoulder, pressing you to his chest. You pause, unsure of how to read his reaction, but the sudden doubt falls away. You’re nodding before the words come, and you already see the effect they have on him. 

“Yeah, I know it’s only been a few months, but I do . . I love you, Harry,” you divulge, clutching the puppy to your chest who still spills kisses along your face and neck, licking up the tears that run down your cheeks. 

“I think he’s gonna hafta contain himself and gimme a turn kissing his mum . . ‘coz I love ya too, birdy, so much,” Harry hums, the smile leaking into his voice. You can even taste it on your lips when his touch yours, massaging yours gently, the smooth feeling of his skin still a surprise to you. 

“And, Harry?” you whisper, his eyes falling to yours, mumbling a question in response. “I’d love to move in with the two of you . . my boys,” you finally answer, watching the smile hike further up his cheeks. His delightful giggle surrounds you and soon a sweet yipping followed by puppy kisses to the both of your happy faces. 

Yeah, you could get used to this, all of it. 

[toogoodmusic]

THE TOO GOOD TEN with MADS LANGER

Growing up in the countryside near the small town of Skive, singer, songwriter and musician Mads Langer grew up always knowing he’d be in music. From singing songs at the age of 18 months in his own language to his latest release, “Lightning,” the new dad has been pursuing the dream for a long time now. Through honest, original and disruptive music the Danish singer has been able to be reborn time and time again through his music and continues that creativity as he looks to the release of his upcoming EP, Where Oceans Meet. The boundary pushing message of love is love in “Lightning” serves as a taste of the upcoming EP and contributes to the already 38 million streams and 506k monthly listeners he’s amassed across his career. He takes a break from his world domination to take on the latest Too Good Ten. Check out the full interview below to learn more about the latest release, “Lightning,” how becoming a dad has changed his perspective on life, how he rebounded from getting dropped by his girlfriend and label around the same time and much more.

The Too Good Ten. Ten Questions. One Artist. Too Good.

1. Looking at the beginning of your career – what was it about music that inspired you to pursue a career in it?

MADS LANGER: Expressing myself through music has been a fundamental part of my language for as long as I remember. My parents have recordings of me singing my own songs in my own language when I was 18 months old. I always knew that music was going to be my path in life. It wasn't a decision that I made at a certain time. It was more a realization that I was not gonna be able to pursue any other career even though I’ve always had plenty of other interests. I could have been in politics, in sports, in science and many other things. I could have been a teacher as my parents, my grandparents and my great grandparents were. And then again, none of these career paths were ever up for grabs. Music was and always will be my thing.

2. You got signed and had an album that you ended up describing as “flopped” and had to start over and spent time busking all over Europe. How did you come to the decision to busk in the wake of “starting over?” What did you do to keep your internal mental conversation strong through the hardships that I assume came with traveling around?

ML: I got signed when I had just turned 18. I went straight from living in my parents house, in the countryside of Denmark, to living a life full of pressure and expectations in New York City. That was quite a shocking change of scenery to be honest. Looking back, I was definitely too young at that time. When a major label first wants you it’s the end of the innocence. I had to grow up overnight and try to keep up with that big machine that started dictating how I was gonna live my life. When my first record didn't succeed commercially and I got dropped I think I saw it as an opportunity to do some of the stuff that most of my friends had done after finishing high school. But most of all that whole 6 months of busking in my old van all over Europe was an escape from heartbreak. My first girlfriend had dropped me around the same time that my label dropped me. She fell in love with a really cool guy in Paris who was older than me and he could grow a very impressive beard, hahaha…

As far as keeping my internal mental conversation strong, that's has never been problem at all and as you can imagine I had plenty of stuff to think about, write about and then finally sing about in the streets of all of these beautiful cities that I got to visit on that trip.

3. “Lightning” is the latest release and gives fans the first taste of your upcoming album Where Oceans Meet which is due out October 1st. How did you decide to release this one as the lead single? What was the inspiration behind it?

ML: In many ways, I think “Lightning” is a song that represents that certain place where the oceans meet on my album. “Lightning” is a song about recognition. When I wrote this song, I thought about all those moments in my life where I really felt recognized on a deeper level. When I met my wife. When I looked my newborn daughter in the eyes for the first time. In concerts when my music meets the audience and it feels like we're all getting struck by the same lightning. Those kinds of moments.

CHECK OUT THE FAUSTIX REMIX OF “LIGHTNING” HERE.

4. Speaking of the upcoming album – what’s the meaning behind the album title? How many songs? Any collabs? Is there a song on the album you’re nervous about releasing out to the world?

ML: Where Oceans Meet is a metaphor. The entire album circles around the different contrasts that we all face in our lives. The light, the dark. The head, the heart. Hopes and fears. It’s about loving and longing at the same time. Where Oceans Meet represents the idea of the place where all these contrasts meet and embrace each other.

5. “Lightning” follows up “Hanging With You” which peaked at #1 in Denmark radio. What’s the story behind when you first heard one of your songs on the radio? Does it ever get old?

ML: It never gets old. Every time I listen to the radio, I must admit that I hope that they will play my song. It's the best feeling ever. This might be a little far-fetched, but it's kind of like when you give someone you really care for a present for their birthday. And it's not just any kind of present. It’s a present that you put all your time, thoughts and heart into. And then one day you randomly turn on the TV. Look who's there. Is that special person that you gave the present to. She’s actually wearing that sweater that you spent five years learning how to knit. After endless attempts, you finally managed to knit a sweater that you would give her without being scared that she would think it was a joke. She’s not wearing it because she feels like she has to, because you’re on a date with her. She’s wearing it because she likes it. And she just put it on that day that she randomly got stopped by the tv-station and interviewed in the streets of your hometown. That is close to the feeling I get when I hear my songs on the radio. And no, I have no clue how to knit a sweater, but I like the image.

6. The past year in the pandemic had a lot of its own challenges but it also had some beautiful moments like the drive-in concert you organized in Denmark last May. Why did you feel it necessary to put something like this together during that time? Being the first one to do so, how did you figure out logistics, etc. for the entire event? Anything you would’ve changed about it looking back?

ML: I had just started touring when the pandemic hit us all. I had spent months preparing the show and I was extremely disappointed when I had to turn around the tour bus and go back home after only playing 10 out of 100 shows. I had a couple of weeks where I was feeling really depressed. But then I decided to see if I could turn this whole thing into some sort of an adventure. I made a list of stuff I wanted to do. On that list I had drive-in concerts for some reason. I know a couple guys who are really good at putting together big events that include live music, so we talked about how we could make this happen. All credit to them for putting logistics together. I just played the shows. I had no idea that I would be the first one in the world to do a drive in concert. But it was really fun and I would not change a thing. In my shows, everyone was on the same video conference call. I loved that because I could talk to the people in the cars in between the songs. The people in their cars requested what songs of mine that they wanted to hear. And often they had really personal stories to the songs that I never heard before. So that was something that I will never forget.

7. The past year also brought about a new baby for you – congrats! What’s been the most surprising thing about having a baby that you might not have known before?

ML: Thank you so much. Yeah, that's truly a life changing event. My little daughter is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I'm so grateful that I got to receive a little soul with my wife. Even though it has happened billions and billions of times already it still feels like a miracle. I think the biggest surprise is the fact that your whole perspective changes in the blink of an eye. She is now the single most important thing in my life. I thought that would be something that would happen gradually, but for me it really happened at the moment that she was born.

8. What do you hope to accomplish with your music in the future that you may feel you have not done already? Have any of those goals or aspirations shifted with the new addition to the family?

ML: I really hope that people will recognize themselves in my songs. Obviously, the goal is that my songs will travel and become part of people's lives in new territories. I have spent so much time in the US since I moved away from home. I lived in New York City and in Los Angeles and I spend at least three or four months a year in the US working with all the talented people that I have met over the years. Building an audience in the US is a huge dream of mine. Hopefully this album will help introducing me to people all over America.

9. If you could only listen to (5) artists for the rest of your life, who would they be?

ML: 

The Beatles

Pink Floyd

Keith Jarrett

Mozart

Radiohead

10. What’s the rest of 2021 and beyond look like for Mads Langer?

ML: My album comes out in October. That is obviously a huge event in my life, and it looks like I'm going to be very busy talking about the album and singing the songs from it in many different places all over the world. Apart from that I will be changing diapers on my newborn daughter. Kissing my wife. Learning Chinese and writing my first score for a movie that comes out in 2022.

A HUGE shout-out to the talented Mads Langer for hanging for this latest Too Good Ten interview. Keep up to date with everything he has going on by following the links below and be sure to be on the look out for his latest EP, Where Oceans Meet due out October 1st. 

SOCIAL LINKS:

Facebook

Instagram

Twitter

YouTube

MUSIC:

Apple Music

Spotify

[purplesurveys]

1213

Have you ever been in weather below 0 Fahrenheit (-17 Celsius)? Nah. The coldest I’ve experienced was probably something like 10 or 11ºC, when I was in Japan. At the time I still didn’t care too much for traveling and ended up being really underdressed for the weather, so I was extremely uncomfortable the whole time we were roaming around the city. Have you ever been caught outdoors away from shelter during a thunderstorm? LOL yes, notably on the last night of my college internship. My car was parked in another building so I had to walk outdoors, when all of a sudden it fucking poured. I ran to the nearest building for shelter but I was still absolutely drenched and ended up having to call my mom (who works in the same city) to ask her to come pick me up.

What’s your favorite macaron flavor? Chocnut or milk chocolate.

How often do you have friends over to your house? Once in a blue moon. I had my ex over all the time but since then I’ve only had one friend - Angela - come over once.

Have you ever had a boss who acted unprofessionally? I mean, we’re very open with each other with regard to our frustrations at work.  That could technically count as unprofessional but I’m honestly just glad we don’t have to be fake around one another and pretend like everything’s dandy.

How many times have you stayed at a hotel in the past year, and where? Just once, for my dad’s birthday. We stayed in Tagaytay for a weekend though we Airbnb’d a condo unit and not a hotel.

Have you ever done a flip on a trampoline? Nah. I could try but I’m too afraid of not being able to support myself and accidentally breaking my neck or something.

What about a flip off of a diving board? Nope.

Are you embarrassed by your school yearbook photos? No. I barely look at them and I’m sure people barely look at yearbooks too.

Who taught you to tie your shoelaces? My grandma.

Currently how many pictures are on your cellphone? 8,067. There used to be around 10,000 but I had a ‘huge’ deleting spree that brought it down to around 6,000 – but clearly I’ve brought it back up again lol.

Do you think dimples are cute? Yes, super.

Would you rather chew fruity or minty gum? It’s whatever. They all lost their taste anyway.

The last time you went to the mall, who did you go with? Just me. That’s usually the case nowadays.

What’s something you used to collect when you were younger? Pogs.

Have you watched a movie today? I haven’t watched a movie since like September.

Aside from your own, whose house did you last set foot into? Angela’s, but it was super brief as I only went in to greet her parents.

Do you love soft pretzels? Yep, that’s how I prefer my pretzels as well.

Who was the last person who cried around you? Why did they start crying? Was it unexpected? I really have no clue. I haven’t been around too many people in such a long time, much less people who’ve cried in front of me. I want to say maybe Gabie???? during one of our last meet-ups. The name feels so foreign now.

Are you more likely to like someone before you really know them, or do you feel you like them more after you know a lot about them? After.

Do you buy people cards on special occasions, or do you prefer to make your own? Giving people cards isn’t much of a tradition here. We’d much rather get you a physical gift altogether.

When was the last time you were being hypocritical? I probably do it without realizing, so I can’t say exactly when.

Where on your body was the last cramp you had? Why did you have this cramp? Fortunately I haven’t had one in a while but I usually get cramps on my neck and shoulders after a whole day at work.

What is the weirdest name you’ve ever heard? My sister went to school with this girl whose name was her surname in reverse.

Do you get embarrassed when people hear you sing/compliment you on your singing ability? If so, why is that? Yeah. I’m not confident in my singing, so I never sing around people and it would embarrass me if I was ever caught/heard.

Are you good at comforting people when they’re upset? I try to be. It works for some people.

Do you have any exercises you do everyday? Nah.

Do you own one of those singing fish? Do you think they are silly or funny? I don’t know what this is referring to.

Has anyone ever accused you of being bipolar or any other mental disorder? Do you really have any mental disorders? No one has accused me; at least not to my face. As for the second question, I’m sure I have one or two; I’ve just never gotten myself professionally checked.

Did you buy the last thing you bought with your own money? If not, whose money did you buy it with? Yabu because I was craving; paid with my own money. It actually feels pretty weird because Yabu had been mine and my ex’s thing, and I haven’t had their food since the breakup. I’m looking forward to having it again tonight and finally changing the narrative for it.

Do you like to put your feet up on the dashboards of cars? Do you parents yell at you if you do that in cars? I don’t like to do it but I’ll sometimes do it if I wanna feel relaxed. No, it wouldn’t bother them too much.

Which Beatle is your favorite, or do you love them all equally? I don’t listen to them.

Do you enjoy classic rock? If so, who are some of your favorite classic rock artists? Not really, but I have nothing against it.

Did you ever own a Tamagotchi? Yep.

Are you more of a dog or cat person? Dog.

Have you ever failed math? Just the advanced courses, like calculus, back in high school. I find math pretty fun and easy if I get the topic and know the formulas; but if I find something hard, it’s very difficult for me to keep up. There’s really no in between haha I either pass with flying colors or absolutely flop.

Skittles! What's your favorite color? Whichever’s not too sour. Idk, I never buy Skittles.

Have you ever had a dream of stabbing someone? Nope but I used to have nightmares of watching my loved ones get shot.

What would you want your last words to be if you could choose them? That I had fun.

Can you sleep with the light on? Only if I’m pissed tired. Otherwise bright lights would bother me.

What’s the most bizarre horror movie you’ve ever seen? I know my answer won’t count as it doesn’t technically fall under horror, but Eraserhead was just very bizarre and unsettling. I’ve never seen the whole film without pausing several times.

What band can’t you stand listening to? Again, this probably won’t count as they’re a boy band/group more than anything, but I cannot stand The Vamps.

Would you ever take a lie detector test for your significant other? Yeah, sure, I guess, for fun. I think those are mostly bullshit anyway so I’ll only take a test with bullshit questions as well.

What is your favorite Mystery/Crime/FBI related show? Those genres never really were my cup of tea.

Would you ever have a bird as a pet? We had two lovebirds some years ago. They were lovely, but idk if we’d do it again. No reason, just that we prefer dogs.

How's your relationship between you and your grandparents? It’s great, even with my maternal grandpa who’s already passed. But I’m well aware of the fact that they’re also a bit wary of me since I’m the most vocal and outspoken of all their grandchildren, whereas they’re intensely conservative and traditional. Still, I always feel their love, especially through food and how they always make sure to stuff me whenever I come over haha.

Ever had a forbidden love or lover? In a sense, yeah. I was in a same-sex relationship that I hid from my family for four years.

Have you ever had to speak at a funeral?  I’ve never been to a funeral but I doubt I could speak at one without breaking down.

Do you know someone who’s been cremated?  Yes, my grandpa was cremated.

What is your current problem?  Just some deliverables at work that I would rather not think about now.

Do you like canopy beds?  Eh, I don’t mind them.

What is your favorite animated movie?  Toy Story.

Would you rather live in a small town or a big city?  Big city. I need lots of noise, lots of activity and lights where I live. I’ve lived in suburban neighborhoods all my life and I would love a change in pace.

If you could summon any animal to come to your rescue, what animal would it be and why?  Idk.

Have you ever watched The Golden Girls?  I’ve watched snippets and it’s HILARIOUS. I’ve always wanted to start the series but never knew where to watch it.

Did you ever like the Ninja Turtles? Was never into it, no.

Last alcoholic drink you had?  Peach soju and plum soju that got me absolutely hammered.

What are you known for?  These days, probably for doing an extreme 180 and having my life be all about BTS now.

Has anyone ever threatened you?  Yes.

Have you ever gone frog hunting?  No? Doesn’t sound like my type of activity at all.

Do you ever suffer from dry skin?  Yeah my face is a little dry, but I don’t think it’s something I ‘suffer’ from since no issues have come out of it so far. It’s just the way it is.

Do you still sleep with a stuffed animal?  Not a stuffed animal but I need to hug a pillow to fall asleep.

What’s the weather like right this moment?  It’s weather that says “it’s gonna get really hot in an hour or so” and I’m not enjoying that very much.

Do you bite on straws, lollipop handles, or ice cream sticks?  If there’s no trash can around, I tend to.

In what type of area was your first sexual encounter?  It was in a hotel.

Where is your mother’s side of the family descended from?  Just somewhere in the Philippines.

What do you occupy your time with on flights?  I’m honestly really happy with just staring out the window. If not that, I bring something to read or listen to music. I haven’t had a flight that lasted 6+ hours, but I imagine I would also bring my laptop for a series or movies to watch if I find myself in that situation.

Do you dog-ear pages in books?  Yup.

What’s a made up word of yours?  I don’t think I have any.

Do you use Q-Tips?  I do.

Ever gone out with somebody you didn’t like?  No. I don’t think I could bring myself to do that.

What hero or heroine do you most relate to in history, fiction, or song?  I don’t really like content with a hero/ine plot.

What makes you dizzy?  Amusement park rides, car rides, headaches.

Are your parents liberal or conservative?  Conservative.

Do you like your teeth? Did you have braces?  Not my middle teeth, but in general yeah. I did have braces but I lost my retainers at one point so my teeth just went back to their original position eventually.

Are you happy with your height?  It’s fine. I’m small but it’s the average here so I don’t really complain.

[dirtyfilthy]

The True Story Of Maxwell’s Silver Hammer: on the limits of transparency, or why you should stop feeding your quarters into the dopamine slot machine

Gather round children, and I will tell you a tale. This story is a hundred percent true. It occurred sometime in my late twenties, which would have been in 2008 or thereabouts. I had just taken the biggest acid trip of my life, eight tabs, but of fairly weak acid, I’m guessing around 400 micrograms total or close enough. Still, it gave me exactly the experience I was looking for. We went to the beach, and as a good friend of mine used to say: “got gay with nature”. Everything had been building to this point. First we took one tab. Some weeks later: we doubled down and took two.. After another month had passed, we gobbled up a four strip. Eight tabs only seemed logical at this stage. And man…

It was exactly how you imagine acid is going to be when you’re a kid. Everything was beautiful and melting  and there were colours I don’t even have the words for.  The trees were full of fractals, the ground was a river flowing beneath my feet. The sky was bright green. The sand dunes: a brilliant purple. It was like that cheesy chroma-keying effect they used to use to represent drugs in old movies from the 60’s. I even nearly went blind staring at the sunset like some hokey old LSD urban legend. Getting gay with nature?  This was a little more than merely getting high with one of your straight friends and perhaps sucking each others cocks and then never, ever mentioning it again, this was…  I wanted to settle down with nature and build a whole new life together, I wanted to get married, buy a house, maybe even adopt a couple of children. Don’t laugh, this isn’t fucking funny. We were in love!

Anyhow, acid, drugs, beautiful uplifting experience yada-yada. The thing is, on acid you tend to get these… ideas. Crazy, completely off-the-wall, gorgeously bent ideas. And I had just had a real doozy of an acid thought.  “Why lie? Why don’t I just be exactly who I am all the time? Why not be completely and utterly transparent with everyone?”. Now this is hardly some kind of grand cosmic revelation. I think that in most individuals this would have cumulated in a simple but genuine effort to be more honest with the people around them, or maybe simply faded with the trip, but in me…

So let me preface this with a couple of things about me that will make the following point make more sense: 1) I tend to take ideas and run with them, generally off a cliff 2) I am very good with computers. To the point where I am a professional hacker these days (as in I break into systems for a living), but back then I was only a hopeful amateur. 

So in me, the way this idea came out was I decided I was going to publish my entire browser history, online, in real time. Every site I visited would be available for the whole world to see, should they wish to, seconds after I had clicked the link. I won’t bore you with the technical details, they really  aren’t that complicated -- and neither are they honestly that interesting -- but suffice to say I built the thing. I named it on a whim after a Beatles song I happened to be listening to at the time: “Maxwell’s Silver Hammer”. And then it was done. Every link I visited was put in a database and displayed on a web page. It was in the form of a giant, constantly growing list, newest at the top. For general purposes of  convenience, I had colour coded everything. So all social media sites would be say, purple. Wikipedia would be blue. News was green etc. 

So one great and terrible thing about LSD is it has a way of teaching you things. This generally happens while you are tripping, or maybe afterwards when you re-integrate the experience. In this case, acid had decided Maxwell’s Silver Hammer was the to be the terrible form my teacher took. And boy howdy, it would certainly teach me some lessons 

So I told all my friends about it. And they told their friends. And then word began to spread. And so I embarked on this slightly weird experiment in radical personal transparency, bouncing down the road like a complete asshole with nary a care in the world, full of hope in the promise of the dream, but I was to very quickly to discover it’s limits… 

The first limit should have been the most obvious one. Porn. At the end of a hard days labour avoiding working, I liked nothing more than masturbating for a solid three or four hours over the choicest and rarest sweet-meats the internet had to offer, before eventually collapsing on my bed from sheer sexual exhaustion. The thing is… porn is a very personal thing. I mean: what really spins your wheels, what you get off to. At the time, I wasn’t ready to admit to my friends that I still really liked women ok but sometimes when the mood struck me I liked to watch some massively hung black dude plow a white guy around half his size while fantasying that it was really m… Anyhow, porn is a deeply personal thing and can show quite a lot about someone. Besides, what if my Mum was watching… or my female friends? Sweet jesus. 

Well, if I was going to be consistent, I could either “rock out with my cock out” as we used to say back in primary school, or I could stop watching porn altogether. And that was the first lesson. Perfect transparency means constantly worrying about how you look because everyone can see everything. It means censoring, not just what you say, but who you are. it wasn’t just about porn of course. Maybe I should browse some wikipedia so I can look a bit more intelligent? What would the chick I had a crush on think if she knew I kept on visiting these horrible gore sites day after day? And so on and so forth, forever.  

I had thought it would be liberating, to be free of all secrets. In fact, it was the exact opposite. I wasn’t living a radically transparent life, instead I was an actor, just playing at performing one. 

The second revelation came in the form of the colour coding. I could see myself reflected in a sea of purple. It was obvious I had become obsessed with social media, particularly facebook. Constantly refreshing my homepage, hoping for that next sweet lick of dopamine, another little like on my post, a little sliver of ice from the great icicle of validation that would only ever melt away in the heat of the morning sun. I used to be a meth addict, and it’s exactly the same, that is: it’s never enough. You’re a fiend for it. It had revealed something deeply narcissistic and petty about myself that I really did not like. Why was I doing this? What did it matter? Did I really have three hundred “friends”? Of course not. I had the usual amount of people I cared enough about in my life to see on a semi-regular basis, a few close, ten or so I saw fairly often, maybe thirty total counting colleagues and co-workers and assorted demi-friends and vague acquaintances. The whole thing was fucking ridiculous. 

The third lesson came only after both of these things had been grating at me for quite a while. After this synthesis, suddenly, I became enlightened. There was a lot more freedom to be had by not being famous or observed. Privacy wasn’t just a haven for the liars and the hypocrites. In fact, privacy enabled you to be most truly yourself. Sure, be honest where it matters, but you don’t need to put your every card down on the table all at once. Seems like a basic enough thing to realise, but I really had to get slapped upside the head pretty hard to see it. There is a power in being invisible.

So I took down the site. Deleted my facebook. Watched all the “black tops white“ gay porn my little bisexual heart desired and, ironically, stopped caring so much what other people thought about me. Don’t get me wrong, I still get that little rush of validation when someone I respect likes my shit, but you gotta pick the individuals who’s opinion you’re gonna care about. The vast majority of most people are either dumb as fuck or completely antithetical to my values. Which isn’t to say I exactly begrudge them, but I’d still much rather avoid getting myself in a public fist fight, metaphorical or otherwise, unless I really really need to. I think in most cases, power doesn’t need to be confronted, it can simply be routed around. You don’t go and deliberately blow your weed smoke right up a cop’s nose, instead, just go get high in the disabled toilets like everybody else. I mean: it’s what they’re there for!

I guess that is the real moral of the story.