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jkstompers · 3 years

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just to study | jjk

pairing: jeon jungkook x female reader

summary: your seat partner asks if you’re free after class, just to study.

genre: fluff, college!au, established friendship, flirtationship, mutual pining, they go to a ‘frat’ party together, also yugyeom! a sweetheart<3 we love him.

warnings: mature!!, mentions of alcohol + alcohol consumption, mentions of sex, strong language, SEXUAL TENSION, mentions of dick sucking??, hints of a wet dream on oc’s end, very strong urges to kiss each other but no kisses today </3, that’s pretty much it!

word count: 7.4k (i...kinda went overboard)

authors’ note: hello!! this is a pt. 2 to sleepyhead! it’s based a few weeks after so yeah <3 also the pacing is kind of weird but… i don’t really know how being drunk is so............(＞人＜) i’m sorry about that! one scene was inspired by this post haha it was just so cute to think about i had to do it. ALSO i literally haven’t taken anatomy since high school so i just used random terms from quizlet T_T pls excuse that as well! but otherwise, enjoy!!!!!!!!! (っ^_^)っ

(if u see any typos...ignore them pls T_T)

side note: imagine jk looking like this when he goes to the party lmao classic fboy look with the camo bomber and his piercings ugh <3

banner pic creds here ! <3

you made it to class on time today, woke to your alarm and even had enough time to eat breakfast before you came. in a particularly good mood, you made your way up the stairs to the row jungkook was sitting in, hoping that the seat next to him was empty (you didn’t have to hope, jungkook always saved the seat next to him for you, no matter what.)

“good morning, ___!” jungkook’s voice greets you the same as always as soon as you appear next to him. he moves his bag out of the way for you to sit down.

he looks especially cute today. his long floppy hair framing his face, his sweet smile beaming up to you. you wonder how dumb you looked drooling over him for a minute before you replied, “hi jungkook, how are you?” with the same smile on your face that you show him every time he sees you. it never changes, but it never fails to make jungkook’s heart skip a beat.

“i’m doing okay, you?” he answers while you pull out your laptop.

you didn’t have a chance to reply before your professor starts talking. informing the class about the test that’s planned at the end of the month, finals in two months, and then dropping the bomb that there’s a quiz tomorrow about the things you’ve learned in the past week. a slight panic takes over you, although you didn’t know why, you understood what he was teaching and you were retaining all of the information well. but when the professor pulls up all the information on the screen to review it all, all of the words and pictures overwhelm you.

to make things worse, jungkook is to your left, not paying attention to a word your professor is saying. instead, playing some game where he has to click his touchpad an obnoxious amount of times. your attention is split between jungkook’s erratic tapping and the notes that the professor projects onto the screen, even though his computer barely made any noise, his incessant movement was distracting you.

“jungkook, you’re taking notes and playing a game?” your voice comes out as a rushed whisper. there’s a snort that comes from him before he nods. you couldn’t be mad at him. “there’s a quiz on all of this tomorrow, you know?”

“i know,” he continues to tap and click, the motion growing incredibly annoying. you didn’t know why you couldn’t have just tried to block it out, but he was just so close to you and admittedly, you looked at his hands, a lot. the way that his fingers tapped against his keyboard and his veins that accentuate his already beautiful hands, it was free art you could look at, how could you not? at this point, you’re contemplating holding his hand to make him stop tapping.

you were in the middle of typing when he finally stops, leaning back and stretching his arms up into the air. you let out a sigh of relief, until he starts again. apparently he reached the next level on his game, tapping even faster, if that was even fucking possible.

quietly, you groan. turning your attention solely on him. you place your hand on top of his, the tapping ceasing almost immediately. “please, jungkook, you’re distracting me.”

he looks at your hand before he looks at you, his chocolate doe eyes wide to the action. he gulps, “sorry.”

you remove your hand, focusing back to the presentation. jungkook feels the heat from his cheeks travel to his hand. the feeling of your hand on his wasn’t something he was expecting to experience today, but he wants nothing more than for you to do it again. he exits the game tab and changes his focus to the lecture.

or moreso, you focusing on the lecture.

you look so cute. your cheek pressed up against your fist. he stares at the way that your forehead creases in concentration. he taps on your arm that’s resting on the table, “hey, you look like you’re stressed out.”

you turn your head slightly to look over to him. “that’s because i am,” you send him a quick smile before you go back to looking at the projection.

he furrows his eyebrows, “why? you’re smart, there’s no need to worry about what you get on this.” you were an a+ student, never anything less than that. jungkook knows that you ace every test that you take, so he doesn’t quite understand why you’re so stressed.

“because jungkook,” you groan. you expected a lot from yourself, sure b’s were okay, but a’s and a+’s were what you wanted and what you thought would make you feel satisfied. there was no way you could explain this without sounding like an overachiever. so you just sigh, “i’m just not really prepared.”

jungkook thinks of the perfect way to spend more time with you, snapping his fingers before suggesting, “we should study together after class, studies show that studying with someone else will give you an a+, guaranteed.” the confidence in his voice makes you smile, and helps you ease up a little bit.

you raise an eyebrow, a laugh creeping up from your lungs. “source for that statistic, sir?”

he taps his right temple, the gesture making you snort. “no but seriously, i’ll help you out,” he assures. his laptop turns towards you to show you all the notes he took, different words highlighted and colored differently.

you act like you think about it, staying quiet for a minute or so. but you know the answer was yes no matter what. “just to study?” you tease. jungkook raises his eyebrows in surprise, an amused smile on his face, “just kidding, we can go to mine? i owe you for the ride you gave me like two weeks ago.” you tap your fingers against your laptop nervously, your teeth taking in your bottom lip as you ask. you haven’t had a guy over to your apartment, not since you’ve moved in. there’s a certain anxiousness that comes with the suggestion.

jungkook nods, “sounds good.”

“okay, again.” you brush your hair behind your ears, preparing yourself once more for another pass of the flashcards. the two of you have been at it with these cards for the past hour or so, you were determined to get these right no matter how long it took. jungkook knew you were gonna get it down, you only had three more cards, these ones specifically stumping you.

“aponeuroses,” he looks at the card and then to you.

“connective tissue that forms a broad sheet which attach muscle to bone or muscle to other muscles,” you speak confidently. jungkook nods, moving onto the next card of the set of three.

“endomysium,” he reads the card. you hesitate on this one for a second, he plays with the corner of the card until you snap your fingers.

“that’s the connective tissue surrounding the… the— uh, oh! muscle fiber?” your brain works extra hard. jungkook rewards you with another nod, flipping to the last card.

“fascia.”

“dense connective tissue,” you begin, pausing to think of the rest of the answer. you start biting your thumb nail, knowing there’s more to it but it’s not coming to your brain quick enough.

jungkook just stares, watching your facial expressions as you search for the answer in your brain. this could be the worst crush he’s ever had, he thinks you’re cute when you’re just sitting there, thinking. he doesn’t remember ever liking someone this much, most of the time his crushes went away after a few weeks or so. but it’s almost been an entire year since he’s started crushing on you, and it still hasn’t stopped. you still manage to find a way to make his thoughts surround you.

“separates and holds individual tissues? it’s the one that extends into the tendons, right?” you perk up after a minute or so. your brain finally coming up with the answer. you blame jungkook’s presence for slowing you down. maybe you shouldn’t have accepted this offer to study together, because how could you focus when jeon jungkook is sitting right in front of you?

“you’re amazing,” he praises, setting the flashcards down onto the table. you blush at the compliment, jungkook takes notice, but he doesn’t mind, he thinks pink is pretty on you. he’s never wanted to kiss your cheeks as much as he did now, and trust, he’s thought about it many, many times. “all done?” he asks after staring at you for the longest time.

you nod, “just gonna highlight these terms to review them later so i can get it down 100%.”

jungkook watches as you diligently reread your notes and highlight them. an apple on the table taking his attention away for a second when he realizes he hasn’t eaten at all today. he takes a bite, the loud crunch noise seemingly startling the both of you. it makes you turn your head and raise an eyebrow towards him.

“sorry,” he chews, “hungry.”

your stare lingers a little longer than you wanted it to. his cheeks are full of apple, you can’t help but laugh a little. “there’s still the sticker on it,” you point out.

he turns the apple around to see the blue sticker. peeling it off, he holds it on his fingertip, an idea sprouting in his mind to see that sweet smile of yours again. so he places the sticker on your cheek, your gaze moving from your screen to him and then to the fruit sticker now stuck onto your cheek. “get it? ‘cause you’re sweet like this apple is,” he smiles.

oh my god. you blush embarrassingly, your entire face flushed pink as you hide your cheeks behind your hands. he laughs at your reaction. jungkook was feeling bold today, so he moves forward, gently taking your hands away from your face to see the cute pink tint he caused. he sits back, admiring your pretty face.

you feel yourself burning hotter and hotter the longer he stares, looking everywhere but his face, too scared to make eye contact. you look back to your computer screen, “um— there’s pasta in the fridge— if you’re hungry, i made it last night.” you offer, but he declines politely, telling you that he has to leave pretty soon because his friends are expecting him to join them today.

begrudgingly, you watch as jungkook packs his things up. he thinks about how content he felt hanging out with you today, and how he wanted to do it again, as soon as possible. a thought pops into his head before he opens the door to leave. he turns on his heel.

you weren’t expecting the sudden turn, accidentally bumping into his chest. “oof! sorry.”

“it’s alright,” he laughs, helping you steady yourself by holding your shoulders. “i just wanted to ask— uh, my friends are throwing a party tomorrow night, do you— do you wanna come?” his words come out jumbled, jungkook never fails to trip on his words whenever he’s near you.

tomorrow night...it’s a friday tomorrow, the quiz is tomorrow, why the fuck not? a stress reliever from all the studying you’ve done. “sure,” you answer after a minute or so of deliberation. you look up at him with a smile, suddenly realizing how close the two of you are.

your eyes flicker between his eyes and his lips, the close proximity makes you hold your breath. “great! i can pick you up? be your DD?” he quirks his head, a smile that matches yours on his face.

you nod, “yeah, i’d like that.” with that, jungkook takes a step back, widening the space between you both as his right hand goes to hold the strap of his bag.

“okay, i’ll text you the details.” before he turns around, turning the knob of your front door and letting himself out. before the door closes, he sends you a wave, one which you reflect as he pulls the door closed. you move up and lock the door, your forehead resting against the cold metal slab.

you wonder if this crush will ever advance into something more. neither of you really push the agenda, most of the time just cutely flirting with each other and only talking to each other during class. maybe this party will be a chance to further the bond the two of you have. you could only wish that you could drop this nervous shield that pops up everytime you’re around him, but jungkook is just so cool. the campus heartthrob, everyone wants to be him or be with him.

for the rest of the day, jungkook seems to occupy your mind, as he always does. when you get to sleep, the fantasies of jungkook’s lips on yours drift you into a deep sleep, one that eventually leads to a dream that has you rubbing your thighs together. his hands were all over your body, his cologne that you were so familiar with tormenting your nose, it all felt too real. so when you woke up to the sound of your alarm, sweat beaded at your hairline. you took deep breaths, cementing the fact that he isn’t here, and he certainly isn’t doing those things with you right now.

it was not helping that you dreamt of him sexually on the day of your quiz, the one that you were immensely stressing over. now, you’re gonna have to walk into class, act normal around jungkook even though your brain produced pornographic images of him, (it’s not the first time, but it’s the first time you’ve had to face him right after it happened) and ace this quiz.

you tried almost everything you could to have cleared your brain of your dream sequence. taking a shower, eating breakfast, studying once more, etc. but when you’re walking into the lecture hall, flashes of the dream and the sound of his imagined moan echo in your mind.

you walk up the stairs with your eyes down, not sure if you could make eye contact with jungkook without turning red. “hey, ___, good morning!” the familiar voice greets you.

“morning,” you reply, dryly. taking the seat next to him and silently taking your laptop out, waiting for the professor to start the quiz. jungkook seemed a bit taken aback by your cold answer, but he took into account that you’re probably just super nervous and stressed out because of the quiz, so he doesn’t take it too personally. instead, just sitting back in his chair and waiting patiently to take the quiz as well.

at this point, you were psyching yourself out, swearing that you already forgot all of the terms. if you were quizzed on the parts of male anatomy, specifically jungkook’s, then maybe you could ace it, but the terms that you were working oh so hard to memorize yesterday slip from your mind. when the professor tells you to separate and start the quiz, you start to bite your thumb nail again.

jungkook takes a look over at you, noticing the bad habit of yours. he gently takes a hold of your arm, pulling your thumb away from your teeth. the action causing you to make eye contact with him and his big doe eyes that hold so much love and light. you find yourself a bit speechless then, too many thoughts running around in your mind.

he whispers, “you’ll do great, okay?” the statement soothing your nerves. his voice somehow makes your body relax, even though you thought you would freak out if you made any sort of contact with him.

“you— you too, good luck,” you mutter. a half smile on your face. you were grateful that jungkook broke you out of your trance, his words of encouragement suddenly placing you in the testing state of mind. the images from last night's dream seem to put themselves away for now.

the next twenty minutes are complete silence. everyone focused on the questions before them. of course, you zoomed through the quiz, prepared for the trick questions and the harder ones that come up. jungkook finishes after you. it wasn’t a surprise, jungkook didn’t even have to try, you swear you’ve never seen him stress out before. nobody was perfect, you believed that, but jeon jungkook was the closest to it.

“okay, class! the quiz will be graded by tonight hopefully, you’re free to leave,” your professor alerts the class. jungkook waits patiently until you’re standing, following you down the stairs and out the door.

you decide to speak first, since you greeted him with such a dry response this morning. it wasn’t his fault that you dreamed of him on top of you, so why were you punishing him for it? “how’d you think you did?” you asked, turning to look at him.

he shrugs, “good i guess, i think i fucked up on one or two questions.”

“was it the striation part? i think i messed up on that one too.”

he shakes his head, “you know you aced that, don’t lie.”

you stay silent, the two of you walking to the campus parking lot. neither of you engage in conversation as you usually do. the images of last night’s dream slipping into your consciousness once again. you try to shake your head, to rid yourself of the thoughts. nothing else to distract you from them because jungkook was oddly silent the entire walk. you fear that he can actually read your mind and see all of your thoughts. if he could, he doesn’t mention it. not saying one word to you until he walks you to your car, greeting you with a ‘see you next class!’ before leaving to go to his car. not even mentioning the party to you, you start to wonder if he regrets inviting you. up until you heard your phone ring when you parked in the lot of your apartment complex.

[10:24 am] jungkook: hey! forgot to remind u about the party 😫

[10:24 am] jungkook: ur still down to come, right?

[10:28 am] you: hi! yeah :)

[10:28 am] you: is there a dress code or smth? haha

[10:29 am] jungkook: not that i know of 😂

[10:30 am] jungkook: u can wear anything u want

[10:30 am] jungkook: ur cute whatever u wear

[10:31 am] you: oh stop it jeon ur making me blush

[10:32 am] you: but tell me :( should i wear something casual? pants? a dress?

[10:34 am] jungkook: 😂

[10:34 am] jungkook: it’s kind of like a frat party…

[10:35 am] jungkook: so anything is okay

[10:37 am] you: ah okay

[10:37 am] you: i’ll surprise u then ;)

[10:40 am] jungkook: alright :)

[10:41 am] jungkook: i’ll come by around 9 to pick u up? sound good?

[10:42 am] you: yeah! gives me enough time to nap and get ready lol

[10:44 am] jungkook: great :) see u then cutie

you wake up from your nap around one, you had more than enough time for you to get ready for a party. so you decide to clean your apartment first, little chores to waste time before you get yourself dolled up. when you finished, it was around seven thirty. you washed your face, brushed your teeth, all that good stuff before sliding on a simple black bodycon that you got last summer. styling your hair and spraying on your favorite perfume before looking at yourself in the mirror. this wasn’t too much, right? lots of people wear stuff like this to frat parties, so you didn’t find it too fancy. the notification sound from your phone goes off, you move to check and see if it was who you were expecting.

[8:54 pm] jungkook: i’m here :)

[8:54 pm] you: ahh gimme a sec i need to pee haha

[8:55 pm] jungkook: take ur time cutie

[8:56 pm] jungkook: i’m right in front

jungkook only really had to wait about five minutes. the visual of you walking out of your apartment doors, looking the way you did, was breathtaking. his jaw drops, mouth slightly agape as he watches you walk up to his car through the passenger window. you are so gorgeous. it’s probably the first time jungkook’s seen you in clothes that really compliment your figure, most of the time you show up to class in hoodies and sweaters. so greedily, he takes in the way the dress hugs your curves deliciously. he shakes the thoughts from his head to get out of the car and open the door for you.

“what a gentleman,” you tease, getting into the car.

he joins you soon after, “you look...gorgeous.” jungkook doesn’t seem so shy now, his eyes taking in your beautiful self.

“thank you,” you blush under his stare. “is it too much?”

“no! no— not at all, all eyes will be on you tonight.” he smiles, turning the car on. now you were able to gawk over him. a simple outfit, all black with a black and white camo bomber. his side profile is perfect, his long hair draping over his face so gracefully and his piercings somehow sparkling in the dark of the car.

he doesn’t drive too far, somewhere in the suburbs where the big houses are. a huge iron gate in the front, seemingly too fancy for a frat party setting. jungkook rolls his window down to greet someone waiting in front of the gate with a couple of other guys.

“jeon! you’re late dude,” one of the guys gives him a handshake through the window.

“sorry man, i’m here now though,” jungkook laughs. the guy giving him the greenlight and opening the gate for him, jungkook parks inside on their stone driveway, decorated with a fountain and a beautiful garden.

“your friend lives here?” you inquire, impressed by the look of the place.

he nods, “fancy right? his parents are ceo’s.” makes sense, and it would also make sense as to why they were throwing a frat party here, rich sons always seem to stir up trouble whenever they’re bored.

he steps out of the car to open the door for you, always a gentleman. he takes your hand and helps you out, the two of you walking to the huge open double doors. as soon as you walk in, the smell of alcohol hits your nose, you try your best not to cringe. the blare of the speakers is the second thing you notice, along with the shouting of jungkook’s friends greeting him. “who’s this?” one of them asks, referring to you.

jungkook seems to hesitate at first, not really knowing how to introduce you. he settles by saying, “this is ___!” not attaching any ‘friend’, ‘classmate’, or anything to the introduction. his friend holds his hand out to shake yours.

you take it with a smile on your face, “i’m yugyeom, it’s nice to meet you!” a smile that reflects yours is on his face, it made you feel welcome. you were never really the type to go to parties, your time is spent working and/or going to school, but this interaction helps you ease up a little more.

“hello, yugyeom!” you reply, shouting over the music.

“do you wanna take a shot?” he asks. pointing to the enormous kitchen where they’re housing all the alcohol, you look to jungkook first who’s paying more attention to his phone rather than the conversation you were just having.

you shrug, “why not?”

yugyeom leads the two of you to the kitchen, jungkook following behind you blindly. he looks up from his phone, done with whatever business he was dealing with to ask, “where are we going?”

“taking a shot,” you answer, pointing to yugyeom who’s already pouring three shots.

“dude, i’m not drinking, don’t pour three.” jungkook tries to stop him before he fills up the third shot glass but his arm knocks yugyeom’s in the process, the bottle spilling the clear liquid into the third shot glass.

“i’ll take two,” you suggest, feeling a bit wild and down to venture out of your comfort zone.

yugyeom smiles at this, “i like her, jeon.” he hands you the two shot glasses full of vodka, jungkook stands next to you and watches as you down the first shot. your face cringing as soon as the alcohol touches your tongue.

“you didn’t even give her a chaser,” jungkook notices, scolding yugyeom who's already downed his shot and is sucking on a lime. “here, suck,” holding a slice of lime up to your lips. his choice of words disorienting you, especially since he was holding the lime up to your mouth instead of just handing it to you. your eyes flicker between the lime and his face, but nevertheless, you suck. sinking your teeth into the sour fruit. jungkook’s eyes zeroed in on how your lips wrap around the slice, slightly grazing his fingers. it’s not long before you’re making a cute scrunched up face from the sourness. “good,” he praises. you don’t deny the slight burn your lower belly felt when he said that to you. you swear he was making sex eyes to you, but you couldn’t tell. he broke eye contact with you soon after, throwing the fruit into the trash below the table that the alcohol was perched on.

yugyeom hands you another lime for your second shot, this time no jungkook to hold the fruit for you. the second shot burning down your throat with the lime chasing after, both yugyeom and jungkook cheer, congratulating you for being a trooper (even though two shots were their warmups).

the next hour or so, jungkook brings you around. he introduces you to his friends and making conversation with them. one certain group, you didn’t really enjoy. a group of five girls, clearly swarming jungkook as soon as he turned around from talking to another one of his friends. the girls ask how he’s been doing, all of the basic conversation starters. when jungkook tries to introduce you, they all turn to you and give you a little head nod before turning their attention back to jungkook. he stands there, conversing with them longer than he had with any of his other friends, and you found yourself getting, hm, jealous.

so you search around the room crowded room, looking for some way out. your eyes spot yugyeom in the backyard through the huge sliding doors, sitting on one of those lawn chairs with the one next to him empty. you decide to leave the group you were currently getting pushed out of and join yugyeom. he notices you when you step onto the grass, trying your best not to sink into the dirt with your heels. “you doing alright? where’s jungkookie?” he asks, sitting up.

you plop down onto the lawn chair next to him. “he’s in there,” you point to the house, “with five girls.”

the last bit of the sentence makes him laugh, a cackle where he holds his stomach because he was laughing so hard. “do you want a shot?” he offers after he recovers from his fit, pulling a tequila bottle out from nowhere.

but you agree, “two, please.” he fills the two shot glasses, but not completely like he did with the vodka earlier. there were no limes, or any type of chaser for you to take around, so you take the two shots like ripping off a band-aid, quick.

“you’re a funny girl,” yugyeom compliments when you’ve downed the shots.

“thanks?” you cough, the feeling of the alcohol still burning your nose and throat, “what did i say that was funny?”

“i think it’s because i’m tipsy, but that joke you made about jungkook being with five girls was hilarious.” he slaps his knee, almost making himself laugh up a storm again, but you weren’t laughing.

you raised an eyebrow, speaking with a serious tone. “it wasn’t a joke, he’s in there with five girls.”

yugyeom tries to collect himself, sitting properly on the lawn chair when he asks you to clarify, “you mean he’s fucking them? or he’s talking to them?”

you’re silent for a second before replying, why did you say it like he was in there fucking them? maybe it’s because he might as well be, so engrossed in whatever the hell they were saying to even notice that you were gone. “just talking to them,” you reply.

“that’s what i thought, jungkook isn’t like that anymore,” yugyeom nods his head, pouring another shot out for you.

“anymore?” you ask. he hands you the shot, you hesitate this time, starting to feel the effects of the first four shots you took. he doesn’t push you to take it. he just leans back onto the lawn chair as he sighs.

“you could say he’s retired,” he shrugs.

the term makes you laugh, “...a retired fuckboy?” you sit back into the lawn chair as well, looking up to the night sky. the shot glass forgotten on the table next to you. your body feels like it’s floating.

“yeah, he hasn’t really been doing stuff like that recently,” yugyeom spills. you stay quiet after he feeds you this information. yugyeom offhandedly telling you that you shouldn’t be jealous makes you feel guilty. why were you even jealous? jungkook was technically still just a friend to you. just because the two of you flirt every now and then doesn’t mean you’re together. of course he would be surrounded by girls, just look at him!

“there you are! i was looking all over for you,” jungkook interrupts your inner monologue. his voice comes from across the lawn, you look up to see him walking over to you and yugyeom.

“hi, jungkookie,” you smile up at him. the alcohol having more of an effect on you the longer you let it sit in your stomach.

he almost freezes up at the nickname, looking over to yugyeom and asking, “did you tell her to call me that?”

yugyeom holds his hands up in innocence, “i didn’t tell her to do anything, she’s like five or six shots deep though.”

you take the shot that was forgotten on the table and down it. “six,” you clarify.

“alright, slow down, iron liver,” jungkook jokes. yugyeom stands from the lawn chair, receiving jungkook’s telepathic signals to get the fuck up to he could talk and hang out with you.

“play beer pong with me later, ___! i’m gonna go look for eunwoo,” yugyeom points to you, giving you a thumbs up before leaving the backyard and moving into the house.

“feeling okay? think you might throw up soon?” jungkook asks, replacing yugyeom in the chair next to you.

“feel like i’m surfing, you know? like wavy,” you answer. the feeling was hard to explain, you weren’t dizzy but at the same time your brain was telling you to stop moving, even though you were completely still.

“ah, you’re getting there,” jungkook snorts. you didn’t have much willpower to answer, so the two of you sit there in a comfortable silence before a group of people coming towards, all greeting jungkook and you. they offer you a red cup, despite your current predicament. leaning against the chair and your droopy eyes, telling them that you’ve taken too many shots. a lightweight at her peak.

jungkook tries to deny it for you, but with a smile, you accept the cup. it was filled with the fancy mixed alcohol juice they had. “thank you,” you place the cup onto the table, “i’ll drink it.... later..” your words begin to draw themselves out. jungkook somehow finding a way to make the entire group leave, making it just the two of you again.

“give it to me, you’re starting to slur your words.” his hand is open, laying on the table and waiting for you to surrender the cup.

your eyes flicker from the red cup, to his face, then to his hand. a smirk on your face when you hold the cup up to your lips, tilting it back and drinking the cursed juice. you weren’t able to down it all, it was too much, you drank maybe ⅔ of it. you cough, taking in a deep breath as you try to steady yourself.

you weren’t sure if it was because you were drunk, but the way that his face looks in the moonlight was so pretty. so you just had to tell him. leaning forward, you speak, almost a whisper, “you’re so handsome.” you drag your finger across the expanse of jungkook’s hand. “did you know i have no gag reflex?” you smile, not your typical sweet smile that he’s used to, but a devilish grin.

jungkook’s eyes widen, his cheeks flushing immediately at your remark. “alright, you drank way too much.” he takes the red cup from your hands, dumping it out onto the grass in front of you both.

“hey, i wasn’t done,” you pout, but jungkook didn’t give you much time to mourn your spilled drink before he was holding your arm, lifting you from the lawn chair you were sitting on. “where are we going?” you ask, trailing behind him with your hand in his.

“gonna get you some water and something to eat,” he answers. the two of you move through the house, jungkook pushes through groups of people and makes sure you’re safe behind him.

“i have to pee.” you tip toe to tell him your emergency in his ear. he stops at the stairs, knowing a bathroom where no one else goes. his friend specifically telling him to use that bathroom when they have parties because the other ones get way too gross.

he brings you up the stairs to the guest bedroom, opening the door to reveal one of the biggest rooms you’ve seen. “the bathroom is there,” jungkook points to the door on the left. you nod, your wobbly legs making their way to the toilet.

jungkook sits on the bed patiently, waiting for you to finish. he hears the flush and the sound of the sink running, the door opens and you’re coming out of the bathroom, pulling your dress down. “are we gonna have sex?” you utter, slurring the end of your sentence. your alcohol poisoned mind taking over your ability to speak.

his eyes widen at the question. “no! no— oh my god, this is just the room with the cleanest bathroom, we’re not—“

you’re next to him now, “you don’t want to?” you pout. glassy eyes looking into his.

“no! i mean, yes, i want to but— fuck, just— just not now, yeah?” jungkook stumbles over his words, his face blushing a blood red. your pretty face peering up at him makes him even more flustered, his hands start to sweat.

“okay,” you nodded. your drunken brain deciding to stop the interrogation of jungkook’s desire for you. to which jungkook lets out a sigh of relief, taking your hand and bringing you out of the room, down the stairs, and out into the driveway. he brings you to his car, opening the passenger door for you. “wait, are we leaving already? yugyeomie wants me to play beer pong with him,” you complain, wiggling your hand from his grasp.

goosebumps appear on your arm when you make it outside of the house. jungkook notices when he turns around to look at you. without a second thought, he takes his jacket off and places it over your shoulders. the newfound warmth shielding you from the cold night. he didn’t mind the breeze, especially since he was still recovering from the stunt you pulled in the guest room.

“we can come back later if you want, let’s just go grab something to eat first so you won’t regret this tomorrow morning.” his explanation is pretty solid according to your drunken brain, so you oblige, moving to sit in his passenger seat.

he joins you in the driver’s seat not long after. “can we get mcdonald’s?” you ask as soon as he sits down.

a smile appears on his face as he starts the car, “sure.”

the drive made you feel a little dizzy, it makes you laugh. “you okay?” jungkook asks, but you nod your head. he’s so sweet, always asking if you’re okay, making sure you weren’t feeling too awful, etc. it only makes sense that you were falling head over heels for him.

“totally fine,” you look over to him with a smile on your face. he’s so fucking pretty, his side profile is something you could rave about for days. as he’s pulling into the mcdonald’s drive through, he’s talking into the intercom, ordering the two of you something to eat when you’re suddenly mumbling, “mcflurry, kookie, oreo mcflurry.”

he looks back to you, an amused smile on his face, “oreo mcflurry?” he repeats. you nod, “okay, anything for you.”

he reiterates the request into the intercom and the server gives him the greenlight. he drives forward and waits until the next car moves up, in the time being, he looks to you. your head laying up against the door and your eyes slowly blinking, warning him that you might fall asleep. so he reaches into his backseat, his arm looking for the water bottles that he usually keeps in his car.

“hey,” he taps your arm gently, “drink some of this first.” he hands you the water bottle, you blink slowly, trying to figure out what he was handing you. once you realize it was a water bottle, you take it, opening it and gulping some of the water down. jungkook is grabbing the food when you’re screwing the cap back on. he parks somewhere in the parking lot and tells you to start eating.

you grab your mcflurry first, the feeling of the cold ice cream on your tongue soothing your dizzy brain. “yum,” you think out loud.

jungkook laughs, taking out his hamburger while he takes out your chicken nuggets. “make sure to eat some of this, yeah? don’t want you throwing up and hating me.”

the thought makes you smile. jungkook was taking such great care of you. sure, he let you down the alcohol like it was nothing, but you never opposed to it, always taking the shot because you wanted to. now jungkook is here, taking care of you, because he wanted to. you knew that if it were anybody else, they probably would have left you at the party, letting you fend for yourself. the sudden warmth in your chest makes you want to tell jungkook everything.

with his jacket wrapped around you instead of him, you can see the bulge of his arm muscles peek out from the short sleeved shirt he was wearing. even drunk, your brain seems to travel back to the images from your dream. “you know, i had a dream about you, a reeaaaallllllyyyyy dirty dream, jeon jungkook.” you blurt out the confession before your thoughts catch up with you, the alcohol still very much blocking off the common sense part of your brain.

he tries his best not to overreact, but you had a dream about him? a dirty dream at that? it awakens something in jungkook, but he pushes it down, ignoring the feeling as he asks, “you did? what was it about?” he curious as to what you meant and what your dream entailed, but he didn’t want to push too far. especially since you were drunk and most likely just spilling everything because your brain doesn’t have the willpower to hold it back.

you stick your hand into the bag to steal some fries, stuffing them in your mouth. “oh, you don’t wanna know,” you chew.

jungkook quirks a brow, “well, was i good at least?” he jokes.

you scrunch your nose, nodding nevertheless. “too good, couldn’t even focus during the quiz because of it.”

jungkook is silent for a second. the conversation making him hot even though he wasn’t wearing his jacket anymore. so he clears his throat, trying to change the subject in a subtle manner. “is that why you were so mean to me this morning?” he pouts, connecting the dots.

you laugh at the question, “sorry, i didn’t mean to, i swear.”

with that, the rest of the time is spent eating. jungkook makes sure that you ate enough and drank enough water, the empty water bottle in his cupholder as proof. “do you want me to take you home now?” he asks, the two of you finished eating and now a silence takes over the car.

“are you going back?” you ask, fiddling with your fingers. he thinks you’ve started to sober up, or maybe have gotten to the point where you just want to sleep.

he shakes his head to your question, “honestly, i’m kind of tired, but if you want to go back, we can go.”

“no, i’m okay,” you decline the offer. jungkook laughs, starting the car again and driving back to your apartment complex.

you take this time to try to get yourself together. you know you’ll regret confessing to jungkook that you had a wet dream about him in the morning. but in the moment, it felt right to confess, (to your drunken brain of course). you tilt your head back, pushing your head against the headrest, and suddenly, you’re reminded of the stars jungkook has on his ceiling. you were silent as you admired the lights, jungkook takes a look at you when he’s stopped at a red light.

so cute, he thinks, staring up at his ceiling like it’s the real night sky. when he pulls up to your apartment complex, he wishes the night could be longer, that he could spend more time with you. he parks the car in the front, exactly where he picked you up. you’re looking to him now, your hands in your lap and your heart seemingly beating three times as fast as it usually does. it wasn’t the alcohol.

“did you have fun tonight?” he asks. his voice never fails to make you melt.

you nod, “i did.”

“i’m glad,” he smiles. there’s a small silence before he speaks once more, “also, y’know, you don’t have to stress yourself out so much, i know you might have expectations for yourself and stuff, but you should give yourself a break from time to time.”

the alcohol’s effects fading slowly from your brain when you start to realize that the entire reason jungkook invited you out was to help you destress. it makes you fall even harder, he was so thoughtful. even though a party wasn’t your scene, he invited you to give you a glimpse into how he has fun and hoped that it would help you loosen up a bit. you were grateful for the mental break he provided you.

you didn’t reply, purely because you were thinking about how much you want to kiss him right now, but it wouldn’t be right. when he speaks up again, there’s a nervous lilt in his voice, scared that he’s overstepped. “if you need anyone to help you— i don’t know, let loose? you can— you can always call me.” he scratches the back of his neck.

but you try your best to reassure him, smiling at the offer. “i will, thank you for tonight, jungkook, i really enjoyed it, despite being a lightweight.”

he laughs, staring at the way your face cutely scrunches when you giggle. he too, is fighting the urge to kiss you, because right now isn’t a good time. he wants to do it right. he doesn’t want to fuck it up with you. so instead, he hops out of the car and moves to open the door for you. helping you out of the car and walking you to your door, your hand in his.

“i’ll see you in class?” you turn to face him, squeezing his hand.

he nods, “yeah.” his signature bunny smile coming out to greet you a goodnight. “text me before you sleep?” he requests. you give him a thumbs up before he’s letting go of your hand and you’re sticking the key into your door, it’s then that you realize that you’re still wearing his jacket.

“oh!” you exclaim, taking the jacket off and handing it to him. but he holds his hand out to stop you.

“keep it, you can give it to me the next time we hang out, or something,” he suggests. you try to hide the growing smile behind a nod.

you hold onto his jacket, “goodnight, jungkook.”

he sticks his hands in his pockets, sending you another grin, “goodnight, ___.”

jungkook drives home, his empty apartment welcoming him. he plops down onto his bed, not even bothering to change out of the clothes he was in because he was that tired. the events of today running through his mind.

he hopes you don’t think he was doing anything with those five girls. he saw you walk away when you did, he tried his best to escape the conversation, but they kept pulling him back. he gave up after ten tries of trying to get away, standing there for a good fifteen minutes listening to them babble about how much they missed him. jungkook had never rolled his eyes so many times in a conversation.

the talk the two of you had after was another thing taking over his mind. your dirty flirting and your dream you mentioned in the car had his imagination running all over the place. he didn’t want to push you when you explained, but he was very curious as to what he did in your dream, and how good it was for you to have it run through your mind all day.

his phone rings next to him. he turns and opens it, a smile on his face when he reads your message.

[12:32 am] you: hi jungkookieeeeeeeee

[12:33 am] you: im sleeping noww

[12:33 am] jungkook: alright cutie

[12:33 am] jungkook: goodnight! again 😂

[12:34 am] you: goodnight <3

he turns his phone off after that. looking up to his ceiling with a dumb smile on his face. his mind thinking of you and only you.

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conarts · 3 years

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hi hello nice to meet u all cant wait to party soon!!!!! i’m sol (they/them, 21+, cst) and im a weekend fairy but i’ll thank u in advance for being patient with me :~) i have some info on garam below the cut but like tl;dr: this is her lol

like this post if you’re down to plot! im way faster on disc but ims are chill 22

song garam, 26, phenomenally subpar at most things, and only good at things that no one will believe she’s good at. welcome to the real world, garam.

she honestly has the blandest most unexciting upbringing ever. only child with average parents that were neither too loving or too cold and they were also staunchly middle class w/ nothing to write home about... INSANE !!!! even the extended family was wonder bread plain

(admittedly no one knows her well enough to know whether anything she says about her family or her past or whatever is actually true? but that’s kind of the way she rolls. she’s as unreliable as unreliable narrators get!)

anyway she’s been pretty whimsical and u...unique since she was young. probably all of that bad fanfiction she accidentally stumbled upon in her youth? but she definitely wanted to make a name for herself or like. carpe that diem and shed her boring ass life or something

so she left home abruptly about two years ago after going through all the motions (high school - average! uni - average!) to “find herself”

and “find herself” she did lmao

tbh she doesn’t ever think things through. like she gets very swept up in things that seem “cool” or “fun” and just DECIDES she will do those cool and fun things. consequences? no thank you. hindsight? NOT EVEN 20/20.

anyway she spends about a year and a half absolutely fighting for her life (not literally but figuratively) to keep her head afloat. and by this i mean she’s doing a lot of part time jobs but definitely spending more time on random mmorpgs conning people into buying her cool gear for her character etc (not intentionally) (she’s just naturally #charming haha) (ok sorry) than she should be

some random endeavors she’s attempted and failed since leaving home: pickle business (TERRIBLE, 1/10, literally doesn’t even taste sour), feet pics sorry, et*y shop where you pay for handwritten roasts on nice stationary (actually a pretty popular idea but expenses seemed to outweigh profit)

part time jobs she was also pretty bad at: convenience store clerk (fell asleep, let the store get ransacked while asleep), advertisement mascot (gave all 300 of her advertisements to one person when she had to take a piss), tutor (“sorry i thought this was for english not for math. i don’t even know what a denominator is”)

"but sol is there anything she’s good at?”

great question, sol! garam is actually a talented writer, though she’s definitely never thought to put her talents to any sort of good use (at least not until recently). serendipity leads her to her new gig, which is actually ghost-writing for a popular horror novelist. the kicker is that her writing for this novelist is really only “good” because all of the real world examples of batshit crazy shit happening in her apartment building

so is there anything she’s good at?

no.

no, there isn’t.

wanted plots

one of 1983986489738972873 people that unintentionally got roped into a short-lived relationship with her that actually just ended up being her asking for money to start a stupid business and then ghosting (never intentionally but she is definitely still ghosting, objectively speaking)

banging on ur door at 3am because she came home late and her entire room’s been emptied b/c of whatever ghosts like to play pranks at 10pm. you’re like ‘can i help you’ and she is very honest about the fact that the ghost took the toilet paper too and she has ibs

sorry she accidentally scammed you on m*plestory but can’t we let bygones be bygones why ARE YOU HOLDING SCISSORS TO HER FAKE DESIGNER PURSE

you actually know how to cook? that’s so cool! do you want to try her homemade pickled daikon? wait why do you look like you’re about to hurl? what was that? call an AMBULANCE?

couldn’t help but notice you’re reading MIRRORBREAK by hit novelist [redacted]. not to brag but she wrote the best scene in that book- what? what do you mean you don’t believe her?

classic fake dating plot where she’s like “no im not single! im dating [your name]!” except it’s not very romantic because she really just wanted the couple’s deal on movie theater popcorn AND nachos. you understand, right? it comes with nachos.

maybe someday i’ll come back to this and put together some serious plots too? maybe? someday? stay tuned.

#lmn:intro

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anxiouslymalicious · 5 years

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Until we’re old and grey

Pairing: Ben Hardy x (fem) Reader

Summary: Ben’s fans make you insecure. What ensues is nothing but tooth-rotitng fluff.

Word Count: 2555

Warnings: Mentions of sex and nudity, insecurities, possibly bad writing

A/N: I’m kind of in the mood for a second part of this but with an insecure Ben. Does anyone want me to write that?

You woke up to the empty side of your shared bed. His side of the bed was cold and there was not a trace to be found that he had even spent the night there, but you knew that he did. Because, when you came home late that night from the movies with your two best friends, you saw him laying in bed, looking angelic as always. The second you had changed into your pyjamas and curled up under the blanket, he had wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you in closer to him. Ben’s hand was resting on your stomach and, although the two of you had been dating for quite some time, you were always kind of scared to let him feel your body.

You were scared that he might dislike what he found under your shirt. That he disliked the fat you were trying so desperately to hide.

You knew that he, too, had his own issues with the way he looked, but to you loved every single part of him. From the light scruff he woke up with to the way his stomach looked when he didn’t work out for some time. His huge thighs were perfect to ride and you constantly lost your train of thought when you looked into those gorgeous eyes. To you, he was perfect, no matter what he looked like.

When you turned around to look at your alarm clock, you saw the display of your phone lighting up with new notifications. Ever since you had started dating Ben, his fans went crazy about it. Some in a more positive way than others. You understood it to some extent, they were just trying to be protective of someone they liked, some were even jealous of you, but some people went too far. Some of them left hateful comments on your pictures, others tried to send hurtful messages. Most of the time, you tried to delete their comments without reading them, but sometimes you couldn’t help yourself.

Today was one of those days.

You had grabbed your phone and opened up your Instagram. Some of the notifications you had gotten were from your friends who had tagged you in pictures you had taken the previous night. They were mostly some fun selfies in which all of you made funny faces. You immediately liked the pics before commenting.

I had so much fun last night!! Hope we get to do that again soon!!

However, as you scrolled to find your friends comments, you noticed that a lot of Ben’s fans found their Instagram accounts. And you also noticed that most of those fans weren’t too kind.

Most of the fans were talking about your double chin. It wasn’t even that prominent and in one pic, one of your friends had one, too, but the people commenting were merciless. Commenting about your double chin, about how you shouldn’t have had popcorn that night because you were already fat enough, that you should work out, that each of your friends were prettier than you and he should date one of them instead of you, etcetera, etcetera.

You couldn’t help the tears from falling and a chocked sob escaped your lips. You clasped your hand over your mouth to shut yourself up. It wasn’t worth it and you knew it, but you couldn’t help yourself. You felt bad for yourself.

Sniffling, you laid your phone back down and grabbed some fresh clothes before going into the bathroom. Maybe you would feel better after a shower.

Meanwhile, Ben came home from his morning run. Whenever he was home and had the time, he would go for a run in the morning with Frankie and, on his way, stop at a bakery to get some fresh bread rolls, maybe even some pastries if something caught his eye. Today, the hazelnut croissants did and he was a bit excited to treat his girlfriend to a nice breakfast.

During the past weeks, neither of them had a lot of time, both of them were rather stressed, but Y/N still did her best to make every morning and every evening as pleasant and easy for him as possible. From cleaning the flat, to getting up earlier than him to make him breakfast, to going on walks with Frankie, to reminding him to pack his keys and whatnot. Y/N had his back through everything and Ben was incredibly grateful for that.

He unlocked the door to their shared flat in hopes of being able to wake her with a nice breakfast in bed, but he was disappointed when he heard the sound of the running shower. It only took him a second, though, to come up with another idea. Ben placed the bag on the kitchen counter, unleashed Frankie and then made his way to the bathroom where he found you just standing in the shower. He quickly undressed before opening the shower door and stepping in behind you.

“Good morning, love. It’s a wonderful day to save some water, isn’t it?”, Ben asked as he wrapped his muscular arms around your middle from behind. The warm water felt nice on his tired muscles and he missed the intimate moments like these that the two of you used to have. It wasn’t that one of you refused to have them, but you were usually not awake for long enough at the same time to have these moments.

You sighed contently, leaning back into his chest.

“I’m afraid we might take too long, my love.”, you replied with a grin, your eyes closed as you blindly tried to find his hands and lift one of them to your lips, kissing his fingers softly. For a moment, all your worries were blown away. He chuckled lightly, his chest vibrating against your back.

“I missed this. Missed you.”, he told you as he grabbed your shampoo and started massaging it into your scalp. You moaned quietly.

“I missed you, too. A lot. But it’s alright, you’re here now.”, you told him. After you had rinsed out the shampoo and he had put conditioner into your hair, you turned around to do the same for him. As your hand reached for his shampoo, he grabbed your wrist and stopped you.

“Wait. Use yours. Smells nicer and reminds me of you.”, Ben said, his cheeks flushed and a slightly unsure smile on his lips. You grinned before grabbing yours and motioning for him to turn around. Softly, you massaged the shampoo into his hair, gently scratching his scalp, making him groan.

“I bought breakfast, by the way.”, Ben told you before stepping immediately under the water stream to rinse out the shampoo. You frowned a little before grabbing the conditioner and massaging it into his hair, then turned around again to get yours out.

“Ben? Do you ever think I’m… too big for you?”, you asked, your insecurities showing. But you needed to hear him tell you that he didn’t. You needed him to convince you because you couldn’t do it yourself.

“Oh, love. Not at all.”, he said, then washed his hair once more before turning the shower off. He then gently grabbed you by your shoulders and slowly turned you around. Before you knew it, a soft kissed was pressed onto your lips. It didn’t last long, only mere seconds before he pulled away and opened the shower door to grab two towels. One ended up around his waist before he carefully wrapped you up in the other. After securing the towel around your chest, he laid his hand on your cheek and stared lovingly into your eyes. Never had you seen so much affection in anyone else’s eyes. It was a look he couldn’t fake when looking at all the other girls he acted with. It felt like this look was only meant for you.

“Let’s get dressed first, then I’ll explain to you exactly why you are not too big for me.”, he said, giving your nose a quick peck before stepping out of the shower. You followed him shortly after. Both of you dried your bodies, leaving your hair a wet mess. Naturally, Ben was messing around with the body lotion, drawing whiskers on his face and little hearts on your back before poking your sides. You couldn’t help but giggle. Everything felt so much easier with him, like the weights on your shoulders had been lifted.

Once you two were done and dressed in the ugliest, most comfortable clothes you could find, which had, admittedly, taken a lot longer than you anticipated, Ben took your hand and led you to your bedroom, sitting you down on the edge of your bed. He then kneeled down in front of you and took both your hands in both of his, looking you directly in the eyes.

“Tell me what you don’t like about yourself.”, Ben said.

“My stomach.”

“What about it?”

“There are so many rolls and it’s not one of those perfect firm and flat tummies that your co-stars or even some of my friends have.”, you explained, trying to pull your hands away from his.

“Their stomachs are firm. Nothing I can rest my head on for hours and hours on end. The rolls just show me that you’re healthy. Those girls usually work out for hours on end, several days a week. I like that you and I can just be lazy together. If you want to, I can wake you up in the morning and we can go for a run together. We can go to the gym or work out here. What else?”, Ben didn’t sound mad, like you were afraid he would. His voice was calm, his thumbs rubbed gentle circles onto your hands and his eyes never left yours.

“Uh… my- my skin. I’ve got cellulite and my skin isn’t as clear and soft as my friends’.”, you told him.

“It honestly doesn’t bother me, love. I like tracing over the soft skin of your thighs, your stomach, butt and boobs after we had sex. To me, your skin always feels soft. After taking a shower, on Sunday mornings when both of us wake up with greasy hair and kind of sweaty after a movie marathon. Everyone can improve at any given point, we can consult a doctor, ask them how to improve your skin condition, if you want to.” Ben kept on explaining, making you blush lightly. Unshed tears blurred your vision.

“Keep going.”, he now encouraged you. You had only named a few things that you didn’t like about yourself, but you were already struggling to come up with more flaws now that you were confronted by Ben. And no matter what you said, Ben never failed to tell you how much he liked what you dubbed a flaw and gave you at least one possible solution to your problem, telling you that the two of you could try it together. Not you on your own, but him supporting you.

“I… uh… my- my hair. It’s always so flat and makes my face look even rounder.”, you were a stuttering mess. You desperately wanted to come up with more flaws, but you just couldn’t.

“Your hair is so soft and always smells so nice. I love burying my face in it when we hug. Smells like home. We can do some research. Maybe there’s some old household remedy we can try out when we’re doing our face masks again. Besides, the round face makes you look younger and you’ll be really thankful once we’re old and full of wrinkles. I’ll look like something messed up from Star Wars while you won’t look a day over 29.”, Ben’s voice was barely above a whisper, gently squeezing your hands.

“Anything else?”, he asked patiently. You shook your head in reply, not daring to look him in the eye now. It seemed as though none of your worries were actually worth it. Like you were worried about nothing.

“Do you now see that I actually appreciate all those things about you? I am not a hundred percent content with my body either. I don’t think you ever really are, especially in the industry I’m working in. You have to look perfect at any given time, but no one ever does. At first, I spent countless nights crying myself to sleep because I was scared. Scared of not being good enough. And then I met you. You looked at me like I was perfect. Not because of my abs, though. Not because of the movies I was in. It felt like you looked right inside of me. Like you saw the real me. And I appreciate that more than anything. Even if you would suddenly turn to look like the daughter of Yzma and Jabba the Hutt, I would still be so deeply in love with you. Your looks aren’t everything. Neither are mine. We won’t look like this forever, but if you want me to, I’ll love you until we’re old and ugly with grey hair and weird skin. When we’ll be sitting in some rocking chairs on a patio with our dogs and cats running around in the garden. Our children and grandchildren will visit us as often as possible and, although everything changes, I will still look at you the way I do now. Because you are and will always be my whole world. I love you, Y/N.”, throughout his rambled monologue, Ben tried to keep eye contact, but the second he started tearing up, he couldn’t bring himself to keep looking at you and instead watched your hands.

“Can you promise me something, Ben?”, you asked, voice breaking lightly. It was calming to know that the person you pictured your whole future with was thinking about you the exact same way.

“Anything you want, Y/N.”

“Actually, it’s two things. One, can we please make that come true? I wouldn’t want to spend a future like that with anyone else.” At that, he nodded, opening his mouth to speak, but you laid a finger onto his lips, effectively silencing him.

“I’m not done yet. I was insecure because of the things your fans said about me again. I now get that they don’t see what is behind the camera. What your co-stars are really like, what you are really like. For some part, I didn’t either. I’m sorry for that. But can you promise me that the two of us, from now on, will always come to each other when we’re feeling insecure? About anything?”, you were now the one to lift his face up, your hands had escaped his warm grasp and were clasping his face.

“I promise, love.”, he said and you pressed your lips to his in a passionate and loving kiss.

It wasn’t long before Ben and the BoRhap cast met again to celebrate. They often did. This time, though, you joined them without any doubts in yourself. At the end of the night, you had exchanged your heels for sneakers, your hair was a mess and your make up was smudged. Pictures of Gwil, Joe, Rami, Lucy, Ben and yourself ended up online. And you couldn’t be happier.

Because what they showed were truly happy faces at the end of an extraordinary night.

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hearts-hunger · 5 years

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Funny How Love Is || bxjxg

Summary: After a long day of failed auditions, Joe can’t stop thinking how he’s never quite good enough. Funny how love is always there to drown out doubt and remind him of how loved he is, especially by his two boyfriends.

Pairings: Ben Hardy x Joe Mazzello x Gwilym Lee || poly!borhap boys

Genre: Fluff, slight angst

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: None!

A/N: Hello lovelies!! I promised I’d give you some fluffy bxjxg by the end of the day, so here it is! That pic of Ben and Gwil on Gwil’s insta got me so soft that it actually kickstarted my dumb brain into writing for them again, and of course I had to write Joe in too. I hope you like it! ♡

Joe didn’t know exactly what it was that had made his day so horrible. Maybe it was the traffic, which he despised but usually tuned out of by calling one of his boyfriends. Maybe it was the fact that his phone had died just as he tried to call, leaving him stuck in the motionless car with no distractions. Maybe it was the same five songs that every radio station seemed to play, those top hits that he liked to dance to when he was tipsy but really would be happy never to hear while sober. Maybe it was the words of the casting director that kept echoing in his head without anything to drown it out, repeating over and over choice phrases that he’d been no stranger to in his acting career. We just don’t think you’re right for the part. You’ve got some good ideas but we’re going in a different direction. Sorry, Mr. Mazzello. We’ll give you a call when we decide.

Yeah, he knew what that meant. He’d get no such call, he could guarantee. Maybe it was arrogant on his part, but he’d thought that after landing Bohemian Rhapsody, casting directors everywhere would be begging for him to come audition for them. He’d found it was kind of the opposite; no matter how much money Borhap had made, Joseph Mazzello still wasn’t a big name in Hollywood, and people were looking for big names. Names that had made it onto more than one A-list movie in the past two decades.

He gripped the steering wheel a little tighter than necessary - really, traffic was crawling, so he could have put the car in park - and took a steadying breath. One rejected audition didn’t mean his whole career was coming to an end. He needed to be patient. He needed to keep trying.

He needed to stop hearing that damn casting director’s voice on repeat, is what he needed.

He fiddled with the radio again, tuning it to the station that played oldies and actually played Queen pretty consistently. No such luck this time, though - David Byrne’s voice crooned out through the speakers in its clipped way, oddly grating to Joe at the moment.

He turned the radio off with a huff. “Yeah, I’m about to be a psycho killer if this traffic doesn’t start moving.”

He was ready to be home. It had been a long and disheartening day, and he was just ready to be home and lay on the couch in sweatpants and watch reruns of X-Files on Fox. Maybe have some wine, possibly take a long and boiling hot shower. Anything to self-soothe from having to submit to the mortifying ordeal of giving his all to an audition only to be rejected, yet again.

“Finally,” he muttered to himself as traffic began to move. He eased the car up to the speed limit after inching forward for nearly half an hour and felt some of the tension in his shoulders ease.

He got home over an hour after he said he’d be back, night starting to fall over Belgravia and easing the temperature down with a cool breeze through the darkening sky. Looking up at the second floor windows of the brownstone, he couldn’t help but feel comforted at the warm light spilling between the sheer curtains and onto the street below. Double checking the car was locked, he headed up the steps to the front door, straightening his shoulders so as not to immediately give away how tired he felt.

The sound of “Funny How Love Is” greeted him as he closed the front door behind him, drifting in from where it was playing softly in the living room. He put his keys and his wallet on the little catch-all table in the foyer as he closed the door behind him.

“Honey, I’m home,” he called.

“Oh, fuck you!” came Ben’s voice from the living room.

Joe gave a surprised laugh at the reply, a smile crossing his face for the first time all day as kicked off his shoes. He made his way into the living room and found Ben on the couch, intently playing Mario Kart.

“That’s one hell of a way to greet your boyfriend,” Joe teased.

Ben gestured hopelessly to the screen. “I was in first place and Toad ran me right off.”

Joe saw Ben was playing Rainbow Road, and he could understand his boyfriend’s frustration. “So, that wasn’t directed at me?”

Ben looked mildly panicked. “God, no, sorry.” He gave Joe a smile. “Hi, honey. I’m glad you’re home. Come here.”

Joe sat next to Ben on the couch as he paused the game, tossing the controller aside in favor of taking Joe’s face in his hands and giving him a few gentle kisses.

“There,” he said. “Better?”

Joe couldn’t help but smile. “Much better, thank you.”

He propped his feet on the coffee table and leaned his head on Ben’s shoulder, enjoying the closeness. “You can keep playing if you want. Gotta show Toad who’s boss.”

Ben laughed, a warm and comforting sound, taking the controller in hand again as he started another race.

“And if you can’t beat Toad on Peach Beach, I’m officially disowning you,” Joe added.

Ben snorted. “Okay, dad, thanks.”

Joe was content to sit in silence and watch Ben play, listening as he sang along with Queen in his warm voice.

“Funny how love is everywhere, just look and see,” he sang almost out of habit. “Funny how love is anywhere you’re bound to be.”

Joe closed his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief, sinking into the sound of Ben’s voice and the feel of his warmth. Ben was practically a furnace; he usually wore his dozens of soft hoodies not because he was cold but because he was a very tactile person, enjoying physical touch and substituting with sweatshirts when he couldn’t have any.

“So… how did your audition go?” Ben asked as the track switched to “Seven Seas of Rhye”, distracted by the video game but still wanting to engage with him.

Joe started to say that he didn’t want to talk about it, but he was saved from answering Ben as Gwil appeared on the stairs. Gwil smiled as he came down to the living room with a hoodie in hand, the corners of his eyes crinkling behind his round glasses.

“Thought I heard you come in,” he said. “How was your day, love?”

“Fine,” Joe said, trying for nonchalance. “Do you have a headache?”

While Gwil usually wore his glasses closer to bedtime and both Ben and Joe adored it, thinking it made Gwil’s sharp-featured beauty look a bit softer, they’d also learned that he wore them when he got headaches.

“No, thankfully,” Gwil said. “But my contacts were bothering me a bit.” He tossed the hoodie to Ben, who paused his game to pull it on.

“I couldn’t find the one you asked for,” Gwil said. “So I just grabbed one of mine.”

Ben gave him a smile. “‘S perfect, love, thanks.”

Gwil watched Ben go back to the game with a gentle smile on his face. That was Joe’s favorite part of being in a relationship with the two of them, seeing how they looked at each other like they hung the moon.

Joe warmed as that same gentle affection was turned on him, Gwil studying his face with a shadow of concern in his own before holding his hand out to Joe.

“Come on into the kitchen with me, Joey.”

Joe sighed and took Gwil’s hand, standing from his spot next to Ben on the couch. He almost wanted to stay with the blonde, knowing that Ben wouldn’t ask him questions about his day while he was focusing on the game. Gwil, though, had no such distractions, and Joe felt the weight of his admittedly vague answer between them.

“Tea?” Gwil asked, filling the kettle at the sink.

Joe took a seat at the bar. “Sure. Thanks.”

“There’s dinner leftover if you want some,” Gwil said, setting the kettle to heat on the stove. “I wasn’t sure if you’d eaten, since you came home later than you said. I tried to call but it went straight to voicemail.”

Joe ran a hand over his face. “Yeah, my phone died right as I left and I got caught in traffic. What’d you make?”

“It was Ben, actually,” Gwil said with a smile. “Chicken parmesan. I can heat some up for you if you want.”

“That’s ok,” Joe said. “I might have some later.”

In all honesty he felt kind of queasy at the thought of admitting that he hadn’t gotten the job. He stared blankly at the kettle on the stove, the casting director’s voice kept ringing in his ears. You’re just not what we’re looking for.

“Joe,” Gwil said.

He looked up to see Gwil taking three mugs down from the cabinet. “Hm?”

Gwil’s smile was colored with a bit of sadness. “I asked you what kind of tea you wanted.”

“Oh, sorry. Um, whatever you’re having. I don’t care.”

That wasn’t necessarily true; Ben and Gwil both knew Joe’s favorite tea was Darjeeling, and Gwil fixed it for him despite his answer. Joe felt a strange kind of ache as he watched Gwil make tea for the three of them, humming softly to himself, wiping up a spilled drop of water with the sleeve of his cozy black sweater. It was the same kind of ache he’d felt before they were together, when he’d found himself wanting to be held and comforted by the tall Welshman but not knowing how to ask.

“Where’d you go?” Gwil asked, giving him his tea.

Joe drew his mug close. “What do you mean?”

“You were miles away just then,” Gwil said. He smiled. “Just wanted to see where you’d got off to.”

“Nowhere,” he lied, running a hand over his face. “Just tired, that’s all.”

Gwil looked like he was about to say something, probably pushing back on the “just tired” excuse, but Ben’s voice cut him off from the living room.

“Did you make tea?” he asked.

“Yes, love,” Gwil called back. “Yours is ready if you want it.”

A moment later, Ben came into the kitchen; he took a seat next to Joe at the bar, pulling the sleeves of Gwil’s hoodie over his hands.

“Thanks,” he said as Gwil handed him a mug.

“My pleasure,” Gwil said, leaning on his elbows on the counter close to them. He bobbed his tea bag a few times, the water turning a honey color as the herbal tea he always drank seeped in.

“Say, you didn’t ever tell me how your audition went,” Ben said, nudging his shoulder lightly against Joe’s.

“You were a little distracted,” Joe said, trying for a joke and also trying to avoid the question again.

Ben smiled. “Yeah, but now I’m all yours. How was it?”

Joe wrapped his hands around the mug, feeling the warmth of it against the sudden chill of anxiety that made its way through him. “Um...” He felt a vague fight-or-flight feeling kick in, and searched for a way to get out from under the question without it being woefully obvious.

“Yeah, I’ll tell you all about it in a minute,” he said, standing. “I’m just gonna… go to the bathroom real quick.”

Oh, good job, Joe. He mentally kicked himself as his boyfriends gave him looks that mixed confusion and concern.

“Is everything ok?” Gwil asked.

Joe rubbed the back of his neck like he did when he was nervous, immediately making himself stop as soon as he noticed he was doing it. It was his biggest tell when he was lying or upset, and if they hadn’t already seen right through him like he was sure they had, his hand on the back of his neck was a dead giveaway.

“Yeah, fine.” Again, he tried for a joke. “I had to pee before I left, and sitting in traffic didn’t do me any favors. I’ll be right back.”

Before either of them could say anything or he could embarrass himself further, he made his escape up the stairs to the master bathroom. He could have gone to the guest bathroom downstairs, but he wanted a whole floor’s difference between him and his boyfriends who were surely talking about him now that they were alone. He splashed cool water on his face, glancing up at his reflection; he was red-cheeked with embarrassment, and he only flushed deeper when he thought of going back downstairs again. They’d probably take the hint and not ask him about it again - doubtless they’d guessed he didn’t get the part - but he’d still made such a huge deal about it that they were sure to walk on eggshells around him.

As he turned off the faucet and buried his face in a towel, he heard quiet bickering coming from the other side of the bathroom door.

“He obviously doesn’t want to talk about it,” Gwil was saying in a hushed voice. “Maybe we should just let it drop.”

“Maybe something’s really wrong,” Ben insisted, his tone matching his boyfriend’s. “Maybe it hasn’t got to do with the audition at all.”

Gwil was quiet for a moment. “You don’t think he’d hide something important, do you?”

Joe could picture Ben shrugging in response.

“He’s been like this since he walked through the door,” Ben said. “I’m worried, Gwil. This seems like a lot of fuss for one silly audition.”

“I agree,” Gwil said. “But maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s something different.”

Joe sighed. Why couldn’t he have just admitted he didn’t get the part and gotten it over with? He felt bad that he’d whipped his boyfriends up into a state of panic with his behavior; he knew it was childish. To have to go and tell them that it was indeed just the failed audition that had gotten him this upset, and not some life-threatening news worthy of a whole charade like the one he’d put on, was nearly too much to bear. He couldn’t hide in the bathroom forever, though, and after a few steadying breaths he went out into their bedroom.

Ben and Gwil broke apart from where they’d been talking closely together on the foot of the bed, trying to act as if they hadn’t just been in intent conversation about him. He almost smiled as he shrugged off his jacket and went to hang it in the closet; it was a small comfort that they were as bad as he was at acting like everything was fine. He stayed in the closet longer than he needed to, trying to buy himself some time or wait for them to say something.

Their hushed voices started up again, and Joe heard Ben say he was going to ask.

Gwil took Ben’s hand as he stood, trying to get him to sit back down. “Wait, Ben, just - ”

“Joey,” Ben said in his regular speaking voice, the baritone colored with concern. He gave Gwil’s hand a reassuring squeeze before letting it go and coming over to the closet.

“Please tell us what’s wrong,” he said.

Joe brushed past him and went to take off his watch, setting it on top of the dresser. “Nothing’s wrong,” he said, feeling a flare of frustration. Why couldn’t they have just let it go?

“Come on, sweetheart, you’ve been acting out of sorts since you came in the door,” Ben said. “We’re just worried about you.”

Joe huffed and carded his hand through his hair. “Fine,” he said. “I didn’t get the part, but you already knew that. That’s what’s wrong. Now can we please not talk about it any more?”

The words tasted bitter on his mouth, and now that he’d said them instead of just implied them, they couldn't be taken back.

“So…” Gwil ventured, “it is just the audition?”

“What, that’s not enough?” Joe snapped. He didn’t like that he was talking to his boyfriends like this, but he couldn’t seem to get a hold of his frustration and shame.

“No,” Gwil said, a bit surprised at Joe’s tone. “I mean, not getting a part is never fun, sure. But you’re not usually like this about it.”

Joe gave a derisive laugh. “Yeah, because I’ve had so many failed auditions that we know how I’m going to react to them.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Gwil said, pained that he’d wounded his boyfriend further. “We’ve all had plenty of failed auditions before. What I meant was that even out of the three of us, you’re usually the one who takes it best.”

That was true, and it was probably most of the reason why they were pressing him so hard about it this time. Gwil would brood and mull over his audition for hours on end if he didn’t get one, trying to see what he’d done wrong; Ben could get downright sulky if he got turned down. Joe, though, was always the one to crack a joke, to say that he hadn’t wanted the part anyways, to say they were probably going to go with someone else because the industry had a thing against redheads. He’d rarely taken a loss like he had this one, and he didn’t blame his boyfriends for being overly concerned.

Joe ran a hand over his face, annoyed at the sting of tears he felt.

“What was it about this one that made it so hard, Joe?” Gwil asked. “I don’t remember you saying you wanted it that badly, but I’m sorry if you did and I forgot.”

“No, it’s ok,” Joe said tiredly. Truth be told he hadn’t been very excited about this part, but at this point he figured he’d take what he could get.

He almost laughed. Of course, he’d been scraping the bottom of the barrel and had still come up empty. That was par for the course, wasn’t it?

“I just…” He shook his head. “Maybe it’s time to throw in the towel, you know?”

Ben and Gwil both frowned, surprise and confusion warring for dominance in their expressions. Ben sat at the foot of the bed again next to Gwil, both of them waiting patiently to hear what Joe meant even as they worried over him. Gwil put his hand over Ben’s to let the younger man know that it had been good to get Joe talking about this.

Joe sighed. “It’s been months since awards season, and I haven’t gotten any jobs.”

“That’s nothing to worry about, though,” Gwil said. He gave a wry smile. “You don’t get jobs lined up like that unless you work for Marvel or something.”

“You did,” Joe protested. “Both of you got jobs as soon as you got off Borhap.”

“Not big ones, though,” Gwil said. “Top End’s only playing in Australia, for god’s sake.”

“And I’ll only be in Six Underground for ten minutes, tops,” Ben agreed. “It’s not like I’m headlining my own box-office hit.”

“Still,” Joe said, unconsoled. “They’re still jobs. You’re still actors that people want to cast. I’m just…”

You’re just not what we’re looking for, the casting director’s voice filled in for him. That had been the constant, through all of it - everybody else could get a job, but Joe was never what anybody was looking for.

He hung his head. “Maybe I’m just not good enough.”

If he’d expected wild protest from his boyfriends, he didn’t get it. For a split second he had the dreadful feeling their silence was agreement, but no sooner had the thought crossed his mind than he felt Ben’s arms around him, pulling him close. He let himself be held, burying his face in Ben’s hoodie.

“Oh, Joey,” Gwil said, running a hand over his back and gently kissing the parts of his face that weren’t hidden against Ben’s chest. “That’s not true and you know it.”

“Why can’t I get a part, then?” he asked, his voice muffled by the fabric of Ben’s hoodie.

Gwil sighed. “I dunno, love. All I know is that every one of those movies would have been lucky to have you. You’re incredibly talented, Joe. You just haven’t found the right part yet.”

“And everybody who said no to you has no idea what they’re missing,” Ben agreed. He pulled back to look at Joe’s face, brushing away the few tears that Joe hadn’t managed to keep at bay. “Okay?”

Joe nodded. “Okay.” He knew he wouldn’t be fully convinced until he landed another job, but for now it was enough to lean on his boyfriends’ confidence in him.

“Sorry about…” He sighed. “Everything. I should have just told you.”

“That’s ok, love,” Gwil said. He brushed back Joe’s slightly mussed hair. “Why don’t you have a bath, hm? Wind down a bit before bed, how does that sound?”

“Only if you two join me,” he said.

Smiles surfaced on both of their faces.

“I think that can be arranged,” Gwil said, at the same time Ben said “do you even have to ask?”

Ben and Joe got comfy pajamas laid out for the three of them while Gwil drew the bath, leaving the bathroom lights off. They came into the bathroom greeted by the scent of rose bath salts and the warm glow of the candles they’d bought for just this purpose. Joe wasn’t even in the bath before he felt the tension leave his tired body, his boyfriend’s gentle hands helping him out of his clothes and into the warm water enough to erase a lifetime’s worth of worry. Gwil got in behind him and Ben across from them, their legs tangled together in the middle. Joe leaned back against Gwil’s chest as Gwil comfortably wrapped his arms around him. Ben traced up and down Joe’s thigh with a gentle touch.

“Okay, Benny?” Gwil asked.

Ben smiled. “Perfect. Though you both owe me lots of cuddles when we get in bed.”

Both Gwil and Joe gave a soft laugh.

“Come here, you,” Joe said, leaning forward to kiss Ben. The feel of Ben’s mouth on his and Gwil’s warm hand on his back made Joe almost lightheaded with happiness. He rested his forehead against Ben’s for a minute, drinking in the closeness of the two people he loved most in the world, the two people who showed him tirelessly that he was good enough, even when everything else was telling him he wasn’t.

He leaned back against Gwil and kissed his scruffy jaw, feeling Gwil’s smile.

“Thank you,” Joe said. “Both of you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Gwil twined his fingers with Joe’s. “Lucky for you, you’re stuck with us.”

Ben took their entwined fingers in his hands and brought them to his lips, peppering them with gentle kisses and tracing circles over their knuckles with the pad of his thumb.

“Gwil and I love you so much, Joey,” Ben said against their hands. “You’re perfect, you know? Absolutely perfect.”

Joe’s cheeks pinked and he turned his face to hide against Gwil. Gwil chuckled and kissed his temple.

“It’s true, love,” Gwil said. “You are perfect. And pretty soon some casting director’s going to see that as plainly as we do, I promise.”

“I love you,” Joe said. That one was just for Gwil, and he knew it; he drew Joe closer and gave a sigh of contentment.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

Joe lightly nudged Ben in the ribs with his heel, drawing a giggle from the blonde as Joe had hoped it would. Ben was very ticklish, and his innocent laughter was one of the most beautiful sounds Joe had ever heard.

“I love you,” Joe told him. He couldn’t help but smile at Ben’s grin.

“I love you too, Joey,” he said. “Even more than Mario Kart.”

Gwil gave a huff of a laugh. “Charming.”

“It’s okay, Gwil,” Ben said. “I love you more than Mario Kart too.”

“Did I ever mention how irresistible your skills for romance were?” Gwil asked.

They all laughed and settled closer to each other, limbs tangled in the warm water, Ben’s skin fairly shimmering in the gold light, Gwil’s big hands belying their true softness as they traced over whichever parts of his boyfriends he could reach. Ben hummed “Funny How Love Is” in the companionable stillness, and Joe felt it was rather appropriate. Funny how love is everywhere, just look and see. Funny how love is anywhere you’re bound to be.

Even if he never got cast again in his life, he’d still gotten Borhap, and that was the only that mattered because it was what brought him to Ben and Gwil. Tomorrow brings love in the shape of things. Even if tomorrow brought audition after failed audition, it would still bring him another day with the two loves of his life. It would still bring him to loving and being loved in a hundred different ways by the two people who made everything right in the world, no matter what.

story taglist: @sunflower-borhap-boys @mimibarnes

forever taglist: @tv-saved-the-teenage-girl @dashlilymark @hazah

#me delivering on a fic promise in a timely manner?#less likely than you think but wow i did it today!!#i hope you guys like this one!!#ben x joe x gwilym #bxjxg #ben hardy x joe mazzello x gwilym lee #ben hardy x gwilym lee x joe mazzello #poly!borhap boys #borhap boys fluff #borhap boys fanfiction #polyamory #ben x joe #ben x gwilym #gwilym x joe #hardzellee #harlee #hardzello #maddie writes stuff!

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earwaxinggibbous · 6 years

Text

10 Songs that make Love/Sex Sound Like No Fun

Happy Vagina Day! I mean Happy Valentines Day!

[wipes brow]

What do you mean it’s the 15th???

Valentines Day has always been my least favorite holiday, even now when I can actually appreciate it as a taken man. I was never a very romantic person, as hard as I try, and a lot of the gushy crap forced down our throats around February is akin to being buttfucked with a tree branch. It’s like walking into a store and all of the workers are talking in uwu-speak.

Hewwo wewcome to Gwistedes dat wiww be 20 dowwaws! Cash oah cwedit?

But if February is good for one thing aside from overcoming your Winter Break Hangover, as a song critic, it’s a good time to talk about love songs. (And fuck songs, ‘cause there’s a lot of those.) But talking about songs that actually bring out powerful romantic feelings is absolutely no fun, because like I said, I’m not a romantic man. Wouldn’t it be much more fun to find love and sex songs that make the acts seem... really, really lame? So that’s what we’re doing.

Keep in mind that I don’t know every song on the planet, in fact, my scope is actually a very small, strange corner of the musical world. So if you have your own list, feel free to put it together and show me if you want! Go crazy.

Honorable mentions go to any songs that aren’t actually intended to be romantic or sexy. Stuff like The Nine Inch Nails’ Closer. Or Eminem’s Kim. If that’s your idea of love, well... you do you I guess. There’ll be more honorables later.

Nuuuumber 10!

Closer - The Chainsmokers ft. Halsey

I personally believe both of the artists involved in this are more sexually weak than Kevin from F is for Family. (And if you’ve watched the whole series you know exactly what I’m talking about. Also hit me the fuck up, I need someone to fanboy over that shit with.)

I like Halsey. I don’t think she’s amazing or anything. Oftentimes I feel like her greatest flaw as an artist is that she wants to do three things at once: Appeal to internet people who like stuff like Marina and Lana del Rey (eg. Colors), appeal to a mainstream that just likes regular easy-listening pop music (eg. New Americana), and also just do her own thing and talk about her own experiences (eg. Control and Gasoline). These things don’t really work that well together at times. New Americana is one of those times, I hate that song. Closer is another one of those times.

The Chainsmokers kind of improved by 2017, but for awhile they were putting out soulless crap like Don’t Let Me Down with all the excitement of a party that only consists of art students. Closer is also lame. But more than that it shows me two things: The first being that Andrew Taggart is an asshole, and the second being that the Chainsmokers don’t know how to write women and even Halsey’s halfway-decent voice and attempts at emotion can’t really fix it.

“Hey, I drink a lot. But everything was fine before we started dating, so it must be YOUR fault!”

Part of me almost feels like Taggart just really wants to fuck Halsey and so he wrote this song as an excuse, like it’s essentially the expensive version of a self-insert fanfic.

If the Chainsmokers are good at one thing, it’s lyrical detail. It worked in their favor in Paris, which is a song that I actually really love. All of the tiny details worked into it paint an insanely vivid picture of these two rich kids basically having some kind of one-night stand.

In Closer it does the complete opposite. I have a hard time believing that there’s any thought less sexy than fucking in the backseat of a range rover with a mattress in the trunk that belonged to your roommate, and they probably masturbated on it and how do you even have this car if you can’t afford it? Or is Taggart just being fucking presumptuous? Dammit, man.

Halsey plays this really pathetic character who left Taggart’s character based on looks alone, and is now regretting it because I guess the endless sexual draw of the weird long-headed guy from the Chainsmokers would make anyone change their mind. It paints Halsey’s character as pathetic, and that’s a character I have absolutely never wanted to see her play. Because her personality as a singer is kind of thin. When she’s playing a character who is aggressive and violently emotional, it works, but when in a role like this it feels like misuse of her actual talent. Kind of equivalent to when they got Eminem on that strip club song Shake That.

(He don’t get it. You don’t get it. And most of all, I don’t get it.)

Frankly, Halsey’s strengths (”specific yet vague” emotional detail) don’t play off well with the Chainsmokers’ strengths. (detailed scenery to piece together vague stories) These two should never have gotten together. Frankly, they shouldn’t have even tried,

Numéro Neuf

You Was Right - Lil Uzi Vert

His face is so weird. It’s just so weird.

I have a kind of odd love of Lil Uzi Vert, despite the fact I’ve only heard one song that I really liked. (XO Tour Lif3, for the record.) I feel like he has a creative energy that most artists in pop are missing, but he’s really, REALLY not using it to his advantage. A lot of his songs are just kind of... nothing.

You Was Right is one of those hits that was so early in 2017, my brain keeps telling me it was a 2016 hit. It was also Uzi’s first platinum single. It’s an okay song musically. Not that interesting. Beat kind of sounds like it was bumped from Wicked, which is not helped by the fact that Metro Boomin’ was involved in both songs. But lyrically, this song is... weird and confusing.

The basic plot makes sense: Lil Uzi’s character in this song feels bad after cheating on his girlfriend, and he wishes he could turn back time and stop himself from doing so. But man. This song makes the idea of a relationship with Lil Uzi sound like way more trouble than it’s worth.

I bet you’re asking me: “Panda, is this line accompanied by the most obnoxious eye-roll possible in the music video?”

Yes. Yes it is.

Yep, that’s right. Lil Uzi is feeling guilty, and wishes he’d never taken this girl home, and--

Uzi stop.

You should’ve just not. Done anything. Because you have a girlfriend. You shouldn’t have boned, you should’ve gone home and boned your girlfriend, dammit Lil Uzi. Let me like you, you bastard.

The reason this isn’t any higher is because I at least feel like Uzi has some kind of love for his girlfriend. As the second line indicates that the moment he saw his girlfriend, he immediately passed by some other woman to hit her up. But still...

I THINK YOU KIND OF DID WRECK HER. YOU FUCKED A GROUPIE, MAN.

This whole verse is just funny I have no explanation. Like. You’re in the same room, but because the door is locked, even though... you’re in the same room? You can’t talk? But she’s actually in the bathroom. And Uzi needs to take a piss, so he’s basically just forcing some romantic lovey-dovey crap, like babe I wanna caress you, I’m seriously gonna wreck the carpet right now, can we just move on from this.

But here’s the best/worst line, in my humble onion:

1. What does this have to do with anything,

2. He’s gonna fuck your sister and then kill her if you talk shit, I guess. So to my sister, I am very sorry.

I think Uzi improved on conveying emotion in his next album, or at least with the big single XO Tour Lif3, which I’ll defend until I’m dead. But as for You Was Right, well... he was wrong.

Número Ochoooooo!

Shape Of You - Ed Sheeran

Did you wanna fuck Ed Sheeran?

NO?

TOO BAD.

Ed Sheeran is a musician I enjoy purely for the purpose of mocking him. While he does, now and then, drop a good single like Don’t, Sing or Castle on the Hill, oftentimes he exudes only one thing:

PERPETUAL VIRGINITY!

Maybe it’s because of his voice. Or maybe it’s because he looks like a high schooler who hit puberty too late. Maybe it’s because I have THIS picture of him saved to my computer:

Look at him. Look at his fucking face.

He just exudes involuntary celibacy. Not like the reddit “hurgh durgh FEMOIDS” kind, just like. The “sees a naked boob and passes out bleeding like an anime character” kind.

Look at his fucking face. He looks like he’s not sure how to hold a woman’s hand. He looks like he doesn’t even know what it is. I don’t know how I’m expected to recognize Ed Sheeran as a sexually active man. The weird dinky three-tone beat ripped straight from Sia’s Cheap Thrills and pretty much every Rihanna song ever, namely Work, doesn’t help in the slightest. Because here’s the thing: Work and Cheap Thrills are not sex songs. If anything, they’re songs about the lower class and their struggles. No fucking required, unless you count Drake’s verse on Work.

Shape Of You is a sex song. And it’s about as sexy as wedging your dick in a paper bag.

It’s like it was supposed to be a romantic sex song, but the vibe I’m getting is a teenage boy up in your DMs asking (admittedly politely) for titty pics.

He’s in love with the shape of you. Just your outline. Your contour. Like that one episode of Ed Edd ‘n Eddy where Jimmy somehow gets his linework stolen and has to be kept in a blender? He wouldn’t fuck a lady like that. You gotta have a... shape. Square. Circle.

RECTANGLE GIRLS OF THE WORLD

This isn’t helping the whole “virginal loser” thing for the record.

The verses try to be more romantic, and totally fail at it because let’s be honest, if Ed Sheeran took me to an all-you-can-eat buffet on our first date, I’d probably kill him. McDonald’s is even preferable. I guess it’s also technically more expensive if you want seconds, but like... everyone there is probably sweaty... and the food usually looks really gross. Sometimes you have mashed potatoes in the steak bucket and it just completely ruins your day.

Ed’s wispy delivery really doesn’t help, as he has all the sexual energy of a castrated Charlie Puth. He’s not crazy. He does not fit the radio definition of “crazy”. He’s the musician that I just see the least as one who fucks. Puth gets more pussy. The ICP get more pussy. Meghan Trainor probably fucks more than he does, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she was some kind of otherworldly plant being that reproduces via budding.

Also I’d feel bad if I didn’t mention the video, which is literally, no joke, the video for Maroon 5′s One More Night. You know, where the lead singer becomes a badass boxer who punches shit. Now I’ll probably drop my feelings towards Maroon 5 with more detail in the future, but in short, I actually enjoy most of their singles. One More Night is a fun song in my opinion, not high art or anything, but I like it. Adam’s falsetto doesn’t bug me as much as other people. I’d prefer him singing in a high pitch than, say, Swae Lee.

(Dammit Swae, let me love you, you bastard.)

But see, I actually also prefer the VIDEO for One More Night. For two big reasons.

1. Adam Levine is at least a little more threatening than Ed Sheeran. Remember how fucking goofy Animals was BECAUSE Adam was singing it? Imagine if Ed was on that track. It’d be ridiculous.

and

2. One More Night was a song about how his relationship with his girlfriend basically feels like a warzone. The violence in the music video was, at some level, metaphorical. In Shape Of You it doesn’t have any emotional or symbolic relevance, so I just have to take at face-value that Ed Sheeran is a boxer, and...

That’s just not happening.

Numerum VII!

Blurred Lines - Robin Thicke ft. Pharrell and T.I.

This would easily be higher up if not for the fact that, on the most technical level, it’s a joke song.

Bet you didn’t know that.

Yeah, the joke here is that these three are singing this ridiculous sex jam despite in real life all being happily married men (or at least were at the time this song came out, Robin’s wife promptly dropped him as soon as this album fell into our collective hands) who are way past their prime when it comes to flirting with chicks at the club. Also, Pharrell looks like an alien.

I’m not gonna extend this too much, as everyone’s already riffed on Blurred Lines more than we’ve probably riffed on other socially questionable songs like U.O.E.N.O. or Treat You Better. But this song sounds like it... COULD BE about sexual assault?

I’ll be fair and say that I don’t think this is straight-up a rape song. Because the thing is that it’s not actually about sex, it’s about picking up girls. But Robin’s approach is so slimy and gross that I’d honestly prefer, very specifically, to re-enact that one scene from The Simpsons’ Cape Feare where they drive through a bunch of cacti with Sideshow Bob hanging on the bottom of the car, and I’m Sideshow Bob, but facing the ground with my dick out, so it slides through the cactus like a sad, sad little pool noodle full of thumbtacks.

On one hand, there’s implications of attempting to get consent, and on the other hand, there’s also discussion of whether or not he’s actually GETTING consent or not. Maybe it’d work if Robin Thicke had more swagger to his personality, and if they removed all the stuff about “blurred lines”, it’d be less suspicious. But even then it’d still sound like a /r/niceguy trying to convince a girl that she WANTS to fuck him.

Once again I’d like to mention the video real quick, specifically the alternate version.

The topless version somehow makes it even LESS sexy. When the women were clothed, it definitely gave more of a vibe of “cheeky girl at a bar playing hard to get”, but once you have a bunch of topless chicks running around looking unhappy and bored, it reads more as... “harem sex dungeon”.

Not much else to say, really. Other than that Miley Cyrus has horrible taste in men.

Even you can do better, Miley.

Nummer Sechs!

The Hills - The Weeknd

The Hills is about as sexy as getting the bottom half of my body lost in the void while prime minister Shinzo Abe projectile vomits onto my face.

I actually like this song. But it doesn’t sound like sex. At all.

It does sound like a good horror movie soundtrack, which I guess...

I guess at least this line would make sense if it was?

Everything about this song kind of punches you. The beat punches you and the tune punches you and it’s really really loud. Literally everything about this song fits together EXCEPT THE PREMISE. This is, from what I can gather, a song about some dark spooky sex machine who’s helping a girl cheat on her boyfriend, but doesn’t really care because his drug problem or something is more important to him. And nothing fits with it.

Say what you want about Earned It, it sounds like a sex song. Maybe I’ll discuss that song in the future, but while Earned It creates the vibe of some sort of expensive Blank Space-esque rich guy mansion with a sexual twist, The Hills sounds more like... an explosion in a really dark place. Even the video works for the sound more than it works for the premise. Frankly, if this had been a song about a break-up or being sent to prison or something, I’d totally buy it. The Weeknd’s warbling baby voice can convey suffering more than it can convey sex.

The best way I can explain this is...

Imagine if Rolex was backed by the ending track from A Serbian Film. That’s the tonal problem we’re talking here.

Though lyrically, The Hills isn’t high art either.

Bragging about erectile dysfunction: Counting this and Young Thug’s Lifestyle, I guess we can call this a theme now. I hate it. Also, Weeknd rhymes “simple” with “simple”. And the fact that this is a fuckjam makes the title drop of The Hills Have Eyes even more questionable. I’d honestly rather hear a sex song based on Cannibal Holocaust.

Also, fun fact, this song has a remix featuring Eminem. Fucking EMINEM. That is the least sexy rapper you could have picked. You could have chosen anyone for your sex song, and you picked the man responsible for such classic sensual love songs as Stan and Just Lose It.

Dear Weeknd, I wrote you but you still ain’t callin’...

Still a song I like. Just... pretend it’s not about boning.

Numero Cinque!

Bad Things - Machine Gun Kelly ft. Camila Cabello

I debated deep in my heart as to whether or not I could, in good taste, put this song on the list. Because I really shouldn’t expect a whole lot from ex-Fifth Harmony member as well as the only Fifth Harmony member anyone knows the name of, Camila Cabello, as well as this weirdo Machine Gun Kelly, who looks like a very failed attempt to clone Macklemore.

But then I read this.

Wait, this is a love song?

I thought it was just... about like, fucking.

ALSO WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU SAMPLE OUT OF MY HEAD IN A LOVE SONG.

And most importantly, and much less aggressively, why does this song sound like it’s about, like... abuse.

Like, yeah. You’re- you’re giving each other scars. And guess what! This is actually edited.

Somehow the edit makes it both better and worse. Because on one hand, like, bruises usually sounds like more of an abuse thing. When I think of an abuse victim I see bruises. But, also, scars are... technically a bigger deal? Bruises go away. If you’re scarring up your SO, then you have some serious issues. And MGK’s uninterested delivery makes it way worse, as well as the Fastball sample that is from a song about hurting your lover. Which kind of sounds, uh, a lot like... what’s going on here.

And, uh, I guess you could argue they’re in a really intense BDSM relationship? I guess Camila seems pretty into it, and not really in like, a Stockholm Syndrome way. But the other thing that takes up a good chunk of this song is the comparison between drug dependence and romance.

Which really doesn’t help?

Like drugs aren’t a good thing. Honestly I feel like Kesha using this metaphor was a sign of things to come considering what happened to her in 2017. Because, here’s a crazy thought, drugs may be addictive... but they also hurt you.

Like an abusive partnerokay we’re moving on sorry.

Numero Neljä!

Treat You Better - Shawn Mendes

Oh hey, I like, just mentioned this one.

Honestly, Kodak Black’s Side N**** would’ve taken this spot, except that I don’t wanna think about Kodak Black. Ever. So you get the whiter version of it.

Treat You Better is another one of those songs that makes the idea of dating the singer sound insanely unappealing. But unlike You Was Right above, Treat You Better has next to no self-awareness.

I’ll admit that I don’t really hate Shawn Mendes. I actually like Stitches, the tune is nice enough and regardless of how you feel about this apparently 6′2 tower of twink flesh, you can’t really argue that he hasn’t got a decent set of pipes on him.

But damn if his songwriters aren’t trying to sour my opinion of him at every turn.

If this were an actual review, I’d complain about how the backing guitar sounds exactly LIKE Stitches, but the problems arise in the lyrics, and the way the video plays off of the lyrics.

oh wait excuse me

Alright sorry.

But in case you can’t tell, Treat You Better is basically a niceguy anthem. I mean, when I read the title I thought it was like the earlier-mentioned Fastball’s Out Of My Head or Hoobastoobaskeeboodidillybaboobastank’s The Reason where the male singer does some nonspecific bad thing to their SO and vows to be better in the future. You know, like--

(YAH... HUH... I PROMISE TO, UH... BE BETTER... YIEAH...)

But no, actually. Treat You Better is more equivalent to Daya’s Hide Away, which you could honestly consider as on this list in the exact same spot because they’re basically the same song.

I suspect the reason nobody wants to date Daya is because she dresses like Heather Chandler in the 2018 Heathers remake.

I also suspect her and Shawn would absolutely love one another’s company.

To be absolutely fair, neither of these songs take the stance that real life nicefolk take, because it’d make them look absolutely insufferable. The big reason I chose Treat You Better over Hide Away for this list is that the video tries to imply that Shawn’s object of attraction is being abused by her current boyfriend. Which I guess makes sense, but...

I love how the combination of the song and the video essentially imply that Shawn’s got this ladyfriend who’s being beaten to shit by her boyfriend and his only response is man, this is why you should’ve dated me instead! I would be WAY better to you than that guy!

Instead of, you know.

This guy is seriously terrible to you and I’m calling the police.

Or better yet!

Kill him.

Also this girl’s just not... a very good actress. I’m not asking for a Hollywood performance, just, you know. Some kind of expression other than “mild disinterest” when you’re about to get your shit kicked in would be nice.

Really the big issue is that, regardless of whether or not we’re supposed to see the girl as an abuse victim, Shawn will forever see himself as the victim. Which means it’s either

A. Some dildo victimizing himself because his best friend is a taken woman and he wants to Betta in her Dannygans.

or B. Some dildo victimizing himself because his best friend is in an abusive relationship... and he wants to Betta in her Dannygans.

So either way, Shawn Mendes’ greatest worry isn’t your safety, or if you’re happy in your current relationship, his one worry is getting his spindly little baby-soft white boy hands into your undies. And frankly, I just don’t need that in my life!

the third one

Honey I’m Good - Andy Grammar

How much do you wanna bet all these couples broke up/got divorced after featuring in this thing?

I labored over how this one matched up with #2, but decided it was at least making some sad, sad attempt to promote faithfulness in couples. See the plot of this song written by Andy Grammar, who I’m assuming is a one-hit wonder because I’d certainly never heard of him until this song came out, is stated very clearly:

I think the best part about this is the way it’s worded. “I gotta be like oh baby, nah baby” makes him sound so annoyed. Like, “Ugh, I wanna bone you, but I wanna be nice to my wife or whatever, so I GUESS I’ll turn you down... Sigh...”

So this is essentially a self-fellating anthem congratulating Andy’s character for not cheating on his wife. Because, as he says,

“Yeah, babe, better men than me have cheated on their wives, so it’d be totally fine if I DID, but I’m such a Nice Dude that I won’t do it. For my wife. Smooch.”

One could argue that he’s supposed to be drunk, but let’s be real here: Being drunk doesn’t make you lie. If anything, it makes you more honest. Booze is a truth serum. Now if he had just gotten out of dental care after getting his wisdom teeth pulled and his hot lady dentist was trying to flirt with him, maybe I could imagine it making sense.

And once again, the Devil’s Advocate could say, “well if he’s being honest, then this shouldn’t be a problem, he’s faithful to his wife”, but the thing is that he’s not even totally drunk yet.

Translation: If I have another drink, I’ll be so boozed up that my honest feelings will make me want to fuck that ass.

He’s tipsy at best, which is why he’d admit to considering this at all, but if he were more drunk he’d totally fuck this assumedly more attractive woman. So for all we know he’ll go back to the club tomorrow, have one too many, and considering how well this stupid song did, he’d throw enough money at the next Cambodian prostitute he runs into to buy her a mansion.

The congratulatory tone to the music doesn’t really help, it really does feel like Grammar is sucking himself off for having the “willpower” to not be a completely terrible person. The only thing that makes it even more hilariously sad is the video of elderly couples lip-syncing to it, all the while holding up signs or wearing shirts that say how many years they’ve been together. It’s as if they’re bragging about how their marriage is bound to last way longer than the marriage in the song.

“Mildred, do you promise not to bone a random guy at the bar when I’m home?” “Only if you promise not to do that either, you rascal you.”

For all I know, Andy Grammar’s a great guy! But with only this song to go by, I’m obligated to assume that he’s a complete dildo who wears a mask of faux-Southern charm when he’s sober and avoids getting drunk so that mask doesn’t shloff off of his face like he’s a juggalo at the official sprinkler festival.

The weirdest part of this to me is that this song is so catchy we actually fell for it, if only for awhile. And its happy tone kind of makes you forget the lyrics. I almost feel like that was intentional. Like, his producers looked at the lyrics and just said, “Boys, let’s fix this shit.” It’s not even good production, it’s just really catchy! Fuck!

All in all, Honey I’m Good is about as romantic as listening to my parents argue at 12 in the morning. Not only is there no reason Andy Grammar deserves any congrats on his mediocre “feat”, but he really doesn’t seem to love his wife that much, if a shot of tequila and a scantily-clad cokewhore is enough to wreck his faith.

Numbah TWOOOOO!

What The Hell - Avril Lavigne

I’d honestly argue that Avril Lavigne’s character as a singer is equally sociopathic to that of Taylor Swift and Cher Lloyd. I feel like after Hello Kitty slaughtered her reputation and career forever, we kind of forgot how genuinely terrifying she was. She’s like every horrible thing about being a teenager squeezed into one person who’s way too old to be pretending to be a teenager. I mean, look at Girlfriend. The only thing more terrifying than Girlfriend is, well, What The Hell.

Because, you know. That’s not a problem or anything.

Rather than the obsessive character from Girlfriend, Avril in this song is the complete opposite. She doesn’t make connections with anybody, and when she’s sick of a relationship, she’ll move onto her boyfriend’s friends, strangers, fans, non-fans, parents, teachers, Todd Howard, etcetera. So she’ll go around macking on anything she wants and then have blase, slightly annoyed reaction when her boyfriend is completely horrified by it.

(This? This is my greatest fear.)

Her disinterest really comes out in the lyrics, and her sales pitch is, basically, this is just who I am and you should fuck me even if you don’t like it. Especially since, while I hate to be the guy who says it, if this was a song by a guy, everyone would fucking hate it. I actually don’t mind the beat or the tune, honestly, I listen to this song sometimes when I’m out of music that rises above the bar of “guilty pleasure”. That almost makes this worse. Everything is delivered with the disinterest of a Future verse, as if this is just a normal thing, and looking back imagining middle school me singing along to this is pretty fucked.

Not that I really blame this for any kind of influence on children. Honestly I don’t think anyone was really listening to the lyrics, they were just having fun. It’s fun! That’s pretty messed up.

By the way, I think this bit on the bridge says a lot about Avril as a writer (and maybe even as a person):

I love the assumption that this guy is still devoted to her after she has cheated on him and shown no remorse whatsoever. Why would he really want her back? Personally I’d say something along the lines of “fuck you, bitch, go get syphilis somewhere where it can’t be transferred to me.” Bye bye!

Really, though, the more Avril Lavigne tried to lean into her teen rebellion phase, the more I realized how old she was. And as she got older, and tried to be more rebellious, it became less endearing and more sociopathic. Maybe she’s a really nice person, but at the same time, to write a song like this, I can’t really tell. Especially when THIS is how she describes it:

Avril, you read the lyrics, right? Of course you did, you sang it. Jesus, lady.

Well, before we move onto the big weiner, let’s talk honorable mentions!

You Belong With Me - Taylor Swift

Surprised that Taylor didn’t make it on here? It came down to the wire, but in the end, the concept of screwing in a pile of jizzy sheets in a range rover bumped this one off the list. Still, though, Taylor’s attempts to be “relatable” end up making her sound desperate. And also Taylor’s pre-existing ideas of why she’s “better” for him than this other girl kinda remind me of...

Hide Away - Daya

I almost wish I had found space for this song since I hate it so much. But really my biggest problem with it is that Daya sings like a rubber goose and that, of course, the nicegirl/niceguy mentality needs to die and people like Daya are perpetuating it.

Don’t Wanna Know - Maroon 5 ft. Kendrick Lamar

Yikes, dude. Just... yikes.

Marvin Gaye - Charlie Puth ft. Meghan Trainor

Charlie Puth and Meghan Trainor are two beacons of sexlessness and this song does Marvin Gaye a disservice. The only reason I left it off is because it’s honestly been discussed to death, I’m almost like, tired of hearing about it.

Side N**** - Kodak Black

This isn’t even a niceguy song, it’s literally “you should date me because I’ll shoot you and your man if you don’t”. I’d have loved to make space for it, but I don’t even want to listen to this song in full, or talk about this guy. At this point Kodak Black is keeping the fire lit with controversy. I’d like to just dump water on it.

NUMBER ONE!

Sigh. This one’s obvious enough.

Dear Future Husband - Meghan Trainor ft. Satan, probably

Sometimes you just gotta throw your hands up and say STOP, MEGHAN! STOP!

STOP!

Meghan Trainor is an artist who I actually do understand the appeal of: She appeals to white feminist teenage girls and soccer moms that still read Twilight even though their daughters are long since over it. But, sadly, that’s two demographics of people I hate, and thus, I find myself hating everything Meghan Trainor puts out. The only remotely passable single I remember by her was Lips Are Moving. Dear Future Husband isn’t even my least favorite fucking Meghan Trainor song. (It’d probably be No, if I had to pick.) But god, if this song isn’t just... oof.

Let’s get the shoehorned feminist message out of the way:

We know you have a job, nobody’s expecting you to cook, why would you bake pies all day, who needs that many pies, no you can’t write a hook, and these views are insanely outdated for anyone who doesn’t have a Return of Kings account. So great, you have a job and can’t cook. Cool. That’s a thing with a lot of people.

Honestly the insistence that she “deserves it” even though she makes no attempt to prove herself a good wife aside from saying she’ll buy you groceries and fuck you sometimes. This song kind of lays on the assumption that you’ll do literally anything because, duh, she’s famous musician Meghan Trainor, and if you don’t do these things, YOU JUST HATE FAT GIRLS.

(Mary Lambert never pulls this shit. And she weighs more than the gold toilet you use, while you’re using it, MEGHAN.)

Honestly though, listening to Meghan Trainor songs just kind of turn me into that obnoxious guy on 4chan who unironically uses the term “feminazi” in 2018. Because really, she fits every feminist stereotype in existence, and she never says anything of any worth.

Now that we’ve got that out of the way--

Acting crazy... how?

Do we mean like, Ren & Stimpy crazy, or Avril Lavigne crazy?

Because I’m terrified it’s the latter.

Meghan kind of talks about her theoretical future husband like he’s a dog, or some other kind of animal that does badass tricks. Essentially obligating him to constantly do what she wants, when she wants it, and never disagree with her even if she’s in the wrong, because then she MIGHT fuck him. Or, uh, excuse me,

Some KISSES! :D

You like KISSES, don’t you? Who’s a good boy? WHO’S A GOOD BOY? IT’S YOU! YOU’RE A GOOD BOY!

...

[clears throat]

It doesn’t help that this song is, essentially, just a list of requests and things this guy has to do. So while Meghan can do whatever she wants, her husband is still required to do the traditionalist romance crap like buy her things, lose every argument, hold doors, accept potential insanity, and be “classy”.

Honestly, don’t let Daya and Meghan Trainor do a single together. I think the pain of hearing it will overtake my body. Like that forcible body-wracking feeling you get when you dry heave.

The best part being that I haven’t even touched on the worst line.

So like, ignoring all of the other shit, if a girlfriend or potential wife said this to me, I’d jump ship. Like, controlling every other aspect of your life wasn’t enough, she also gets to decide what people you see! So if she doesn’t really like your good friend John, then he’s banned from this house forever. And forget about seeing your grandpa. She doesn’t care if he has cancer! You fucking MISOGYNIST PIG! LOVE YOUR WIFE!

Urgh. Of course the song that combines the insanity of What The Hell with the me-me-me attitude of Treat You Better and the bored lack of emotional connection in You Was Right would top this list. I’m glad Meghan Trainor killed her own career in 2016, because I don’t think I’d be able to handle another year of these shitty faux-feminist throwback jams. Thanks, Me Too!

If I was you, I’d wanna anyone besides me, too!

Also, if anyone’s curious about ratings I’d give these, here you go.

10 - 2/5 stars. Not good enough to be mediocre.

9 - 1.5/5 stars, mostly because Lil Uzi can do better, which is half a saving grace and half a detriment.

8 - 1/5 stars. Ech.

7 - 2/5 stars. I’ll admit the Blurred Lines controversy was blown out of proportion, but it’s still not that great of a song.

6 - 3.5/5 stars. I can get down to this, it’s just... not sexy.

5 - 0/5 stars. RIP Fastball.

4 - .5/5 stars. Only because Shawn’s slurring is funny.

3 - 2/5 stars. At least it’s fun, I guess.

2 - 2.5/5 stars. Again, at least it’s enjoyable if you ignore the words.

1 - 0/5 stars. No more Meghan, please.

#top 10 #valentines day #panda posts #music criticism #top 10 list #negative(?) review

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oneweekoneband · 7 years

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Dinosaur Jr.: Closing Thoughts & Gratitude

This will be the final entry as host of this Dinosaur Jr.-themed week. I’ve already used the term “housekeeping” in a previous post to reference opening with something I meant to include in its immediate predecessor, but it applies much better to this extended closing sentiment you’re about to traverse (hopefully). What follows is a cursory rundown of some things I originally planned to cover but did not make the cut as well as notes on Dino Jr.-related fare that did not justify an entire entry.

On the live legacy of Dinosaur Jr. Mach I...

My first attempt to see the Mach II incarnation failed as it involved a clandestine road trip I took solo when I was still in high school. I arrived at the out-of-town venue during Dino Jr.’s set and to add insult to injury, was denied entry due to being underage. But subsequent to this I did end up seeing the same lineup play a couple of large-scale festival slots, if “seeing a band” means being separated from a giant stage by a roiling sea of “alternative nation” ding-dongs, a row of bouncers and a lot of ingested acid. By the time the reunited original lineup made it to my town (Memphis, TN) in December of 2006, they were at the end of a really long run of playing songs from the first three albums (plus “The Wagon” and either “Start Choppin’” or “Feel the Pain” if I remember correctly) and were obviously not into it at all. It was loud as all hell, though.

The point being that for my entire adult life I’ve read or heard about how amazing and mind-meltingly loud Dinosaur Jr. Mach I was, but I’m glad I never got to see it because I’m old enough as it is. YouTube isn’t exactly the best barometer by which to measure good live performances, but some are incendiary enough to translate through decades and shitty sound/visual quality (something I first learned when finding a clip of Husker Du encoring with “Eight Miles High” in 1985 that raised my arm hair and still does). Here’s some links to live Dinosaur Jr. that blow me away:

youtube

Live at Cal State in May of 1989 (this must have been one of Barlow’s final shows)

Amazing 1986 set at UMass (Mascis may have still been enrolled at the time). Check J.’s bangs.

(Audio only) Local show allegedly from April of 1985, but they sure do sound tight and confident for a band that had only been playing together for around six months. Accompanying pic definitely dates to ‘85/’86 because Lou had short hair.

Stunning document of Mach II lineup right after Mike Johnson joined. August of 1991. Sound is good and performance is revelatory.

And here’s the next night’s show at the legendary Vera Club. Set includes some Green Mind songs that never made it past this tour.

On Bootlegs/BBC/Peel Sessions releases…

There’s no shortage of Dinosaur Jr. boots out there, but one of my favorites is also one of the first to surface back in the 90s….

This is the JayLouMurph CD...a boot of a NYC show from 1988. The mix might be jarring at first but it grows on you, namely when taking into consideration how loud this band was. Note the deafening tape loop of a man’s voice repeating “THANK YOU! THANK YOU!” meant to further distance the band from whatever the crowd is doing or not doing between songs (they used this tactic at many shows in 1987/88).

youtube

Dinosaur Jr. In Session LP/CD (1999, Strange Fruit) - Official release of BBC/Peel Sessions recordings spanning four sessions (two from 1988, one from 1989 and a Mike Johnson lineup session from 1992) but heavy on the Mach I dates. This is actually one of my all-time favorite Dinosaur Jr. releases and I was planning an entire post based around it. Astonishing performances for the majority of these ten tracks. As for vinyl reissue candidates, this title would be at the top of the list, seeing as how originals on the format are fetching upwards of $100.

On Deep Wound…

There’s a reason Deep Wound was saved for this curtain-dropping post. The short-lived high school hardcore band of Mascis and Barlow has simply never done it for these ears, and I’m coming to you as a pretty big fan of first-gen American hardcore’s more intense and chaotic factions. While active, Deep Wound released a 7” that’s been bootlegged several times (cuz the original will set you back a month’s rent), a demo cassette and contributed two tracks to Gerard Cosloy’s great 1984 compilation, Bands That Could Be God (seen above in a just-taken pic of my personal copy). Bassist Scott Helland went on a longer run in the Outpatients (also on the comp) and vocalist Charles Nakajima joined Mascis and Barlow for a split second in Mogo, which was renamed Dinosaur in honor of his swift dismissal. In the late-80s/early-90s, Nakajima fronted one of the more bizarre bands in the annals of underground metal, Gobblehoof, which released a 7” and two full-lengths. Mascis is the drummer on the first and the producer of the second.

ON COVERS….

Dinosaur Jr. is known, especially since the original lineup reunited in 2005, for their impeccable choice in live covers, with a number of performances seeing the band joined by those responsible for the source material. Besides several different songs by The Stooges and Neil Young, Dinosaur Jr. has covered “Can't Tell No One” & “Nothing” (Negative Approach)“Sunday Bloody Sunday” (U2) “Barmy Army” (The Exploited), “Fun Fun Fun” (Big Boys), “Tame” (Pixies), “Hey Policeman” (Ian Rubbish), “The Boy With the Thorn in His Side” (The Smiths), “I Don’t Live For Today” (Hendrix), and “Hand of Doom” (Black Sabbath). Below are two personal favorites...

youtube

“Thorn” (longtime friend and collaborator Kevin Shields of My Bloody Valentine joins Dino Jr. for a cover of MBV’s classic shoegaze genesis moment “Thorn” during Dino Jr.’s 7-night 30th Anniversary run at the Bowery Ballroom)

“My Pal” (originally by Australian punk band God and one of the greatest 7”s of the 80s. Dino Jr. is joined by God members Graham Clise and Joel Silbersher for this performance in Melbourne from this January)

Ok, that’s probably enough. I’d like to extend the deepest gratitude to OWOB editor/curator Hendrik for having the patience and flexibility needed to see this through to fruition. To all of the readers who navigated my admittedly subjective choice in no-brainers, nooks, crannies, nuances and other inside baseball as related to the band’s legacy, I am indeed thankful for your eyes and ears. If your takeaway from this week’s coverage of Dinosaur Jr. was of the new and positive variety, I’d love to hear from you. Truthfully, any feedback, good or bad, is welcome and I will respond to everything: [email protected]

Godspeed,

- Andrew Earles Twitter: @AEarlesWriter Instagram: @grotto_of_miracles

#dinosaur jr

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lesbiansirius · 7 years

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mutual(s) pining

a work brought to you by bunfox productions, aka yours truly and @lesbianremus! you can also read it on ao3, right here. big thanks to the lovely @nachodiablo who looked it over for us!

this is a prompt fill for the weekly prompt at @introvert-club. this week it was “internet crush”. anyone is welcome to participate, and use the tag #wolfstar introvert prompt for us to see! enjoy :)

Some days, scrolling Tumblr is pretty boring. A flower, a transparent backpack, a dejected joke about depression, a dead Soundcloud link, nothing to inspire. Sirius is hunched over their laptop, watching the screen with their chin resting on their hand. A long discourse post they can’t be arsed to read, gifs from a show they don’t watch, and then.

Inspiration strikes.

It strikes in the form of two selfies. The person in them is standing in a sunny garden, curls spilling out from under a snapback, and smiling with their eyes closed. You can see lilacs blooming in the background. The person has freckles and a t-shirt with a whale on it, featuring the text “I’m a little overWHALEmed”. Same, Sirius thinks.

They click follow without even looking at the blog.

Remus squints at the tiny, seemingly innocuous, line of text on her dashboard. It’s sandwiched between a masterpost of transfeminine resources Lily’s reblogged (tagged #dead useful tbh #remus i told u joining tumblr wld be worth it) and a post from one of Lily’s friends about how Glinda the Good Witch is trans agenda (shows up at the beginning of Act 2 with a new name).

padfoot has started following you

Who the fuck is padfoot?

Remus quickly opens a new chat, typing in Lily’s url. She had made Lily show her how to do this chat business first, after changing the aesthetically horrifying default blog layout.

do u kno a padfoot

Lily, eternally both awake and online, replies immediately.

wtf is a padfoot

oooh hang on actually i think i do

???

ya they’re one of my mutuals. mostly posts vids of them singing and reblogs pics of animals, iirc

why are they following me??? i don't want to be followed!!

remus chill ffs. it’s not like stalking. they just see ur posts

i dont even have any posts! well except those pics marlene took that u INSISTED i put up here

ur welcome. i bet they think ur hot ;) ;)

hilarious.

remus when will u accept ur cute n give the people what they want!! (more selfies)

im unfollowing u

my dash would be more appealing w just the staff blog posts

im ignoring ur paltry attempts at threats. also, i just went and looked and ya i had the right person. u should check out their vids

why

its polite 2 at least LOOK at someone's blog if they follow u!! honestly remus my 86 yr old grandma is more social media savvy than u

Remus chooses not to reply to that. She does click on padfoot’s blog, though. Not because Lily suggested it, just because she’s curious. What about some boring pictures of her in a garden screamed ‘good content’ to this stranger? Maybe they’re really fond of lilacs, or something.

“What the fuck?” Remus says, glaring at the still shots of the youtube videos embedded on the page in front of her. Whoever padfoot is, they’re apparently unfairly attractive. Remus clicks play on the first video, half-hoping they’re an appalling singer to make up for the ridiculously good looks.

Two hours later, Remus’ phone buzzes, jolting her out of her Tumblr coma and back into reality.

did u die? Lily wants to know. Remus calls her.

“Why would you assume I’m dead?”

“I’ve been knocking on your door for the past ten minutes, asshole.”

“Oh,” Remus looks guiltily down at the headphones she’d put on three videos in.

“Well come open the door,” Lily gripes. “We’re late.”

“Can we be late for a thing that we scheduled between the two of us?” Remus points out, as Lily tugs her down the stairs. “You barely even gave me time to put on proper clothes,” she complains.

“We said pub at five. It’s not my fault you weren’t ready.”

“Actually,” Remus says with a self-righteous sniff, “it was. You’re the one who told me to check out padfoot’s blog.”

Lily pauses, looking over at Remus.

“Yeah, three hours ago.”

“Two and a half,” Remus mutters.

“Wow,” Lily smirks. “I knew they’d be your type.”

“Shut up,” Remus grumbles. “We’re going to be late for Weekly Lion’s Den Bitch & Moan.”

“I thought it was impossible to be late for something we scheduled between the two of us,” Lily says mockingly.

Remus walks off without her, ignoring the sound of Lily’s cackles following her down the street.

Sirius straightens up from the computer and looks for James. He’s in downward dog position in the kitchen area, because of course.

“Hey,” they say, “quick question.”

“I’ve told you a million times not to interrupt me while my arse is reaching for the sky.” James sounds a little strained, but he still manages to get in a sigh.

Sirius groans. “This is important!”

“More important than my spiritual health?” But James walks slowly into a forward fold, and Sirius waits for him to get upright, one vertebrae at a time. They tap their fingers against their laptop.

James reaches his hands up towards the sun – or in this case, the orange plastic lamp in their kitchen – then finally gives Sirius attention.

“Okay, what’s the quick question?”

“How long should you be mutuals with someone before casually striking up a friendship?” It’s probably not causal to even ask that literally two minutes after the person follows you back, but whatever.

James rolls up his mat and chuckles. “You’re talking to me, literally the least casual person this side of the equator.”

Sirius frowns. They’re used to James always giving advice. Admittedly, sometimes it’s bad advice, but nonetheless.

“You mean I have to use my own judgment? Eh.”

“When I’m your manager you’ll never have to do that,” James jokes.

Sirius doesn’t reply; they’re actually checking out the pretty stranger’s blog now. The title is ‘why are they forcing me to have a title’ and the bio just says ‘she/her’. The pictures are the only thing on the blog. Well, that didn’t exactly help. Tumblr friendships are usually based on mutual interest. Maybe they could strike up a conversation about lilacs?

“Okay, well, thanks for nothing,” they tell James. “I have nothing to go on, my crops are dying, and I haven’t even posted a video in a week.”

“But your crop tops are fine.” James winks and slumps down next to Sirius, looking over their shoulder at the mysterious whale person. “Wow, pretty.”

“I know! The only good thing on Tumblr today. I need more!”

“You need chill,” James says firmly. “Wanna go to the pub?”

Sirius closes the laptop decisively. “Always.”

“Let me change, I’ll be ready in a few.” James gets up, giving Sirius an unnecessarily detailed view of his ass in yoga pants. “And you should put on one of those crop tops.”

“But remember the last time you went out in yoga pants.” Sirius grins. “Worked out well, didn’t it?”

James shakes his head. “Not tonight, honey, I’m tired.”

“It’s hard work being popular.” Sirius shrugs.

They do take James’ advice to change into a crop top, because even if James isn’t up to being hit on, Sirius could use the validation. And they look fucking awesome in a crop top and fishnets.

It’s just a few days after payday, and the time of day when people are off work, so they only barely manage to get the last free booth. Sirius sits down on the edge of the sofa, strategically placing one leg over the other so they’re visible to the people who pass by. It might not be a whale pun or lilacs, but Sirius’ legs rarely fail them.

James returns with an ale for Sirius and his own awful lager with cordial in it. The pink makes it look pretty, but that’s its only redeeming feature in Sirius’ opinion. James sighs happily when he takes the first sip, though.

“Did I tell you about that movie I found the other day? It’s like a comedy about vampires and werewolves, it’s amazing.”

Sirius listens to James try to explain it, and they then spend a considerable amount of time discussing various vampire questions. Do they get boners, and how? Can vampires be vegan? Are there vampires working night jobs that no one knows about?

Their stomach is hurting from laughing by the time Sirius gets up to get a second round. When they get back, James isn’t alone.

Remus pushes the door open to The Drunk Carnation, holding it politely for Lily, in spite of what a pain she’s being today. It is Lily’s turn to buy the drinks, which cheers Remus up slightly. At least if she’s going to be mocked she can do it over some semi-expensive alcohol.

Once they’re seated, Remus quickly changes the subject away from Tumblr.

“So how’s your acting class going?”

“Pretty well,” Lily says, sipping at her Seven and Seven. “That creep still won’t stop asking me out.”

“I thought you were going to ask the cute clumsy one to pretend to be your boyfriend?”

Lily shrugs.

“I still might. It’s sort of hilarious watching him work up the nerve to talk to me, though. I’m not sure if I want to put him out of his misery yet.”

“You’re a cruel woman, Lily Evans.”

“Anyway,” Lily says, shrugging off what she probably considers a compliment, “you aren’t getting off that easy. What did you think of padfoot?”

Remus groans, dropping her forehead onto the table and nearly tipping over her can of PBR.

“They’re fine,” she grumbles.

“Someone’s got a crush,” Lily sing-songs. “Hang on.” Her tone of voice changes slightly, and Remus looks up, following her line of sight. She recognizes when Lily’s ‘cute person’ radar is going off. “Weirdly,” Lily continues, looking back at Remus, “that’s him. They guy from acting class.”

“Oh,” Remus frowns. “The creepy one or the one you’ve set your cap for?”

Lily snorts.

“The latter, Jane Austen.” Remus smiles over the top of her beer, but doesn’t reply. Lily looks oddly hesitant for a moment, before her expression clears. “We’re going to go say hi,” she says firmly. Remus groans, but let’s Lily tug her to her feet. “Oh stop moaning,” Lily says.

“I thought this was a dedicated romance-free evening,” Remus says self-righteously.

“It’s just a hello.” Lily strikes a pose as soon as they’re alongside the table, cocking one hip and tilting her head flirtatiously. “James. Fancy seeing you here.”

The man at the table starts slightly, looking up from his phone. He widens his eyes and nearly drops the poor phone into his drink.

“Lily? Oh. Wow, hi. Hello.” Remus stifles a smile as James glances over at her. “Erm,” he says, getting awkwardly to his feet and holding out a hand. “I’m James.”

“Remus.”

“Nice to meet you,” James says politely, before his eyes drift inevitably back over to Lily. “Would you two like to sit?”

Lily looks over at Remus, raising an eyebrow. Remus sighs inwardly, resigning herself to a dull evening of playing third wheel. She knows Lily will go back to their table without protest if Remus asks her to, but she can also see that Lily is more interested in James than her conversation about him had let on.

“Sure,” Remus says, sliding into one side of the booth. She sits on the end, so Lily and James are forced to sit next to each other. Lily grins at her from across the table, and James looks to be a strange combination of thrilled and alarmed.

Remus is just trying to think of a way to excuse herself to give the two of them some time to talk, when someone else approaches the booth.

“I leave for two minutes and you’ve already replaced me,” the person says, heaving a dramatic sigh. Remus just barely manages not to jerk up her head, but she’s staring so intently at her beer that it’s possible she looks like some sort of deranged beer label design student.

Oh no, Remus thinks. I recognize that voice. James is babbling out some kind of protest and Remus’ stomach clenches up. Have we interrupted some kind of date?

Fortunately, Lily quickly takes charge.

“You’re too late. He’s mine now,” she says with a grin. James looks like he’s struggling not to combust on the spot, and Remus stifles a laugh. She’s grateful Lily’s given her a moment to get her equilibrium back. The stranger, padfoot, Remus’ brain helpfully supplies, slides into the booth next to Remus. She turns, friendly expression carefully propped up on her face, and smiles.

“Hello. I’m Remus. The extremely rude one across the way is Lily.”

“Cheers,” Lily says, sipping her drink.

“Sirius,” padfoot says with a grin, holding out a hand. Remus shakes it, trying not to look terribly star-struck.

I can be chill about this, she tells herself firmly. A tiny voice in the back of her mind is screaming that’s a GIANT lie, Lupin. Sirius is even cuter in person and they’re right there, nearly touching her and they smell really nice and it’s horribly distracting. She can’t even escape to the bar to get her head together because Sirius has just brought new drinks and Remus is now trapped against the wall.

“So,” she says a bit desperately, “how do you two know each other?”

Lily, who has apparently decided she’s fulfilled her helpfulness quotient for the year, just smirks at Remus over her drink and lets her flounder.

“How don’t we know each other?” Sirius waggles their eyebrows and grins. They then want to punch their own face.

James laughs nervously and glances at Lily. She is pretty, but he’s pathetic. Unlike Sirius, who’s the epitome of coolness right about now.

Remus looks a little pink. It’s adorable. “Oh, were you on a–”

“I beg you not to finish that sentence,” James cuts in. “Sirius is just being a dick. We know each other from school, way back.”

“Clearly this school thing is the way to meet people,” Remus says. Sirius laughs, possibly more than the joke warrants.

But Remus is wearing another t-shirt with whales, and is so beautiful, and Sirius feels like bursting into song. They’re lucky Remus and Lily didn’t turn up after a couple more beers.

“I like your shirt,” they say and nod towards Remus’ chest.

Remus looks down on her beer and giggles. “Whale whale whale,” she says, then looks up. “Get it?”

Lily groans on the other side of the table, but Sirius laughs again. They can’t seem to help it. This person is their kryptonite. “That’s funny. Do you have more of these?”

Remus tells them about the overWHALEmed t-shirt and Sirius pretends not to already know about it. James casts a smug glance at Sirius every now and then, but he looks too nervous himself to be gloating.

“What do you do for fun?” Remus asks, turned to Sirius, her leg almost touching their skin through the fishnets.

“I like singing,” Sirius says. “But it’s not too serious.”

“Ha–” Remus starts, and Sirius groans and buries their head in their arms. “Sorry,” Remus adds quickly. “I’m sure you get that a lot.”

“You have no idea.” Sirius lifts their head again and smiles. “Anyway. What do you like?”

Remus hesitates. “I write,” she says. “But nothing too– er, consequential.”

“Nice save.” Sirius braves nudging her arm with their elbow, and Remus looks at them and smiles.

Sirius doesn’t want to look away. Remus smiles like she’s holding back a much bigger smile, giving the impression that there’s just too much sunshine in her to contain. Sirius spills over.

“I followed you on Tumblr earlier today,” they blurt out. “I liked your selfies.”

Remus goes red. That was the last reaction Sirius had anticipated, but it’s not terrible. “I know,” she admits. “I don’t understand why, though.”

Because you’re beautiful. “They were very aesthetically pleasing pictures,” Sirius improvises. “I was so uninspired and then I saw them and it was good content, what can I say.”

Remus is shaking her head. “Not as good as your singing.”

“You checked out my blog?” At this point, the point where their arms are touching feels like burning, but it’d be weird to move now. Also, Sirius doesn’t want to.

“I don’t have more than ten followers, of course I get curious,” Remus says defensively. She’s not moving her arm, either.

“Really?!” Tumblr really is a hellsite. Remus, no more than ten followers? Atrocious.

“Yes?” Remus looks puzzled.

“You don’t want more?” Sirius is grappling with this concept.

“Not really.” Remus shrugs. “Anyway, I listened to a bunch of your songs, and I really liked them. You should be the one with more followers.”

“Thank you.” Sirius doesn’t know what else to say.

Lily clears her throat. “Excuse me for interrupting what I’m sure would have been an incredibly drawn out flirting process, but I’d like my best friend back, so if you could just exchange numbers now that’d be great.”

Sirius makes a surprised exhale, and Remus moves her arm back at lightning speed. “I will murder you,” she says calmly.

Lily just smiles at her. “Sure, but let’s get drinks first.”

“I’m sorry,” Remus mutters. “May I get out?”

Sirius gets up and gives way, watching with amusement at how James tries not to die when Lily passes him in closer proximity than he could possibly have hoped to have her. They say goodbye, and Lily and Remus start walking away before Sirius finds their bearings.

“Wait!” They take a few long steps to catch up. “Actually, Remus, I’d like that number, if you want to give it to me.”

Remus raises her eyebrows and her mouth opens slightly. How she’s making “flummoxed” look hot, Sirius has no idea.

“Sure, yeah.”

Lily looks extremely smug as they exchange numbers. Sirius is not looking forward to the look on James’ face when they get back to him.

Remus gives them one last barely-contained smile before her and Lily leave, for real this time.

Sirius looks at their phone and starts laughing. Remus saved her number as ‘whale endowed’.

Yes, Sirius has definitely been struck by inspiration.

#wolfstar introvert prompt #wolfstar #trans marauders #tumblr au #bunfox productions #my fic #jamie writes lily so well i'm :')#collabing is so fun i hope yall enjoy this as much as i did lmao

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truereviewpage · 6 years

Text

Why Renovations Can Make You Want To Scream Into A Pillow Sometimes

Our post on Instagram last night was admittedly a little cryptic. We were having an extra frustrating day thanks to two discouraging duplex-related blows that came flying at us rapid-fire, in the span of a mere 10 hours. We’ve always tried to share the bad and the ugly along with the good – like talking about blowing a timeline or breaking a budget (or a ceramic animal). Or when we can’t find the water meter for a month or we fail our irrigation inspection in three different and spectacular ways).

Sometimes on “Bad News Day 1” you don’t really feel like getting into all of the nitty-gritty details because you’re still in that “repeatedly screaming WHYYYY?!?!?” phase of things. But you also don’t want to just pretend everything’s ok and post something chipper with lots of happy little emojis when you literally want to use that big punching hand emoji to punch that day in the face. So the best post you can muster is an honest and semi-grouchy paragraph about how renovations aren’t always easy, but in the scheme of things there’s still lots to be grateful for (like family, health, pets, tiny vases shaped like houses, and cookies). Note: many cookies were harmed in the making of our down-in-the-dumps evening last night.

But today is another day. Perspective usually comes after sleep (or just after some time in general) and we’re already feeling more clear-headed about the whole thing. And we have a Plan B that’s already rolling forward! Slowly rolling as if it’s riding a sloth, but it’s rolling. So we wanted to fill you all in. It all has to do with the beach duplex we’re renovating down the street from our pink beach house. Well, or at least TRYING to renovate.

We talked several weeks ago on our podcast (Episode #76) about some of the behind-the-scenes hurdles we had to clear before things could start moving, but those hurdles seem to just keep multiplying. Things that were simple when we did this last year for the pink house have become surprisingly complicated. For instance, when we were ready to begin work on the pink house we were able to pull a permit and begin right away. This time around we’ve been trying to pull our permit since November. And this place isn’t getting any safer/cleaner/less moldy.

The backstory, which we covered in podcast Episode #78, is that we’re proposing some exterior changes to the duplex, so the town’s Historic Review Board has to approve them. Most of it was small and basically a non-issue (tweaks to the front porch railing and stairs, for example). The biggest change was the roofline, because we were hoping to 1) raise the pitch of it and 2) add a dormer. The roof is effectively flat now, so increasing the slope will help it shed water better and allow us to put on a more affordable asphalt shingle roof (rather than an expensive and sometimes faulty rubber/metal flat roof). It would not only make it more reliable as a rental roof (definitely don’t want people calling to say there’s a leak during their beach week!) there are also hardly any other flat roofs in the historic district, so we thought they’d like that it would fit in better with the houses around it.

The dormer was really just for cuteness, since a lot of extremely similar homes within this historic town already have the exact roof pitch and dormer we were proposing. This picture sort of shows you what we were thinking the roofline/dormer would look like. This isn’t a house in town, just an inspiration pic we’ve been referencing that reminds us of the duplex:

We missed the November review board meeting by a hair, and the December one was postponed due to the holiday. They’re only held monthly, so yesterday, January 16th, was our first opportunity to present our changes and get approval. Our contractor Sean did the presenting for us, since he knows everyone and does this all the time (in fact, he was presenting two other projects last night along with ours). He’s a stickler for historical details and reassured us that he would never propose anything he didn’t expect to get approved. It’s a waste of his time and ours – delaying us both another month until we can re-propose it. So imagine all of our collective shock when our plans got rejected. That’s right, we waited months for this meeting and then we got turned down.

He called us after the meeting with the bad news, and we could hear in his voice that he was surprised and frustrated too. Apparently it had seemed like they were going to vote in our favor, but in the end… denied. Sean, John, and I were also frustrated (and extremely surprised! We never saw this coming!) because there are a lot of, in our humble opinions, more egregious additions and renovations around town that sailed through the approval process.

Who knows when and how they made that happen, but it felt like ours didn’t even register on the same scale – let alone rise to the level of getting rejected. We don’t fault the members of the board for trying to protect the integrity of the town (that’s their job!) and we can’t even claim to have a ton of historic architecture knowledge – but one thing is certain: we were only attempting to do something that several other recently-fixed-up homes in the historic district had already done without being rejected. And even Windex wouldn’t help.

So we said “Ok, Plan B – we’ll scrap the dormer!” But even by conceding that, we still have to wait over a month for their February 25th meeting to re-propose it. And then, assuming it’s approved, we have to wait 30 MORE days to be issued our permit thanks to a new waiting period they’ve just begun imposing this year. Which means that we won’t have a permit in our hands to begin working on this house until March 25th. Almost April. For two people who have been itching to fix this poor house up since November, well, a five-month delay pretty much makes you feel like you’re taking crazy pills.

The whole no dormer thing makes us sad, but we can let it go. Sure it would’ve been cute, but it also added to our cost (so we’re killing two birds here!) and if the cutest thing the duplex has going for it in the end is a little dormer on the roof, whelp, we’ve got bigger problems. So we’re trying to shift our focus to all of the OTHER improvements we’ll get to make, both inside and out. Plus Plan B, which is a slightly less pitched roof without the dormer, sort of like this (pardon my bad iPhone coloring job) is still pretty charming – and we have every reason to believe it’ll sail through the approval process because they mentioned they’d favor that option in the meeting yesterday.

It’ll look approximately 58 times more adorable and lovely because we’re also widening the stairs, making the pillars more substantial/historically accurate (as well as the railing), going with white siding with mint green shutters, and restoring those lovely diamond grilled windows in the top middle of the house. And the entire board has no issue with any of that. So unless we are living in some sort of alternate reality (is this The Bad Place? You know we love this show) we should get approval in the next meeting, and finally get down to business in late March/early April. It’s just hard to smile about that when you’ve been waiting so long.

We also mentioned there was a financial blow, which was just a really (really really) high quote from a subcontractor that we didn’t expect at all. We found another sub who can do the job within our budget (and he’s great! we actually used him before!) but it took a few hours of panicked calls that we didn’t expect to be making, so the entire day sort of felt like a bad duplex omen from the start. It was like I was in that scene from Entrapment where Catherine Zeta Jones weaves her latex-covered body through a maze of lasers, except picture me in Minion footie pajamas tripping around and getting all caught up in blown deadlines and budget-breaking estimates.

This stuff definitely happens, and it’s not that we didn’t expect it. We expect curveballs. But we haven’t even started yet! Nary a piece of mildewed drywall nor a single foam ceiling tile has been removed. And considering we just spent the last year fixing up a house that’s ONE FREAKING HOUSE AWAY from this one and none of these early-on issues popped up, it just caught us off guard. But there’s that awesome quote by Veronica Dearly that I’m keeping in mind these days. Because guys, it’s totally true:

You can do hard things (but only after you’ve totally freaked out about them. Once you’ve done that you should be fine.)

Whelp, the good news is that we should be fine, because last night we officially freaked out. HA! It felt remarkably like when we couldn’t find the beach house’s water meter for a month. Except add a bunch of other months to that. And kill off a cute little dormer (R.I.P. Norma The Dormer – best said with a Boston accent). But today we’re back on track. Even better, we’re on a mission. We’re following some leads that there might be some way to get around the 60-day hold that we’re in right now – and already have some calls in to a few different people so feel free to hold your breath with us! And whenever we actually get this place is done (2027? will there be flying cars?), we think it’s gonna be PRETTY FREAKING GREAT. We’re so excited about all the plans and ideas we have baking for this duplex project of ours.

In closing, I will say that while it’s never fun to share your whiny-pants with the world, this is real. Real dollars. Real timelines. And real disappointment. So it just felt like it wouldn’t have been even a little bit authentic to act like all of this crap in the background wasn’t happening (or that it wasn’t affecting us). Because we are humans. Humans who, as it turns out, can eat a remarkable number of cookies while mourning a dormer and a woefully busted timeline.

The post Why Renovations Can Make You Want To Scream Into A Pillow Sometimes appeared first on Young House Love.

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statusreview · 6 years

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Why Renovations Can Make You Want To Scream Into A Pillow Sometimes

You can do hard things (but only after you’ve totally freaked out about them. Once you’ve done that you should be fine.)

The post Why Renovations Can Make You Want To Scream Into A Pillow Sometimes appeared first on Young House Love.

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yesterdaysdreams · 6 years

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Why Renovations Can Make You Want To Scream Into A Pillow Sometimes

You can do hard things (but only after you’ve totally freaked out about them. Once you’ve done that you should be fine.)

The post Why Renovations Can Make You Want To Scream Into A Pillow Sometimes appeared first on Young House Love.

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billydmacklin · 6 years

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Why Renovations Can Make You Want To Scream Into A Pillow Sometimes

Sometimes on “Bad News Day 1” you don’t really feel like getting into all of the nitty-gritty details because you’re still in that “repeated screaming WHYYYY?!?!?” phase of things. But you also don’t want to just pretend everything’s ok and post something chipper with lots of happy little emojis when you literally want to use that big punching hand emoji to punch that day in the face. So the best post you can muster is an honest and semi-grouchy paragraph about how renovations aren’t always easy, but in the scheme of things there’s still lots to be grateful for (like family, health, pets, tiny vases shaped like houses, and cookies). Note: many cookies were harmed in the making of our down-in-the-dumps evening last night.

But today is another day. Perspective usually comes after sleep (or just some time in general) and we’re already feeling more clear-headed about the whole thing. And we have a Plan B that’s already rolling forward! Slowly rolling as if it’s riding a sloth, but it’s rolling. So we wanted to fill you all in. It all has to do with the beach duplex we’re renovating down the street from our pink beach house. Well, or at least TRYING to renovate.

The backstory, which we covered in podcast Episode #78, is that we’re proposing some exterior changes to the duplex, so the town has to approve them. Most of it was small and basically a non-issue (tweaks to the front porch railing and stairs, for example). The biggest change was the roofline, because we were hoping to 1) raise the pitch of it and 2) add a dormer. The roof is effectively flat now, so increasing the slope will help it shed water better and allow us to put on a more affordable asphalt shingle roof on it (rather than an expensive and sometimes faulty rubber/metal flat roof). It would not only make it more reliable as a rental roof (definitely don’t want people calling to say there’s a leak during their beach week!) there are also hardly any other flat roofs in the historic district, so we thought they’d like that it would fit in better with the houses around it.

Our contractor Sean was presenting the changes to the review board, since he knows everyone and does this all the time (in fact, he was presenting two other projects last night along with ours). He’s a stickler for historical details and reassured us that he would never propose anything he didn’t expect to get approved. It’s a waste of his time and ours – delaying us both another month until we can re-propose it. So imagine all of our collective shock when our plans got rejected. That’s right, we waited months for this meeting and then we got turned down.

He called us after the meeting with the bad news, and we could hear in his voice that he was surprised and frustrated too. Apparently, the panel of 4 people were split on our proposal, 2-to-2. At one point it had seemed like they were 3-to-1 in our favor, but something switched right at the end, and it wasn’t enough to pass. Sean, John, and I were also frustrated (and extremely surprised! We never saw this coming!) because there are a lot of, in our humble opinions, more egregious additions and renovations around town that sailed through the approval process.

So we said “Ok, Plan B – we’ll scrap the dormer!” But even by conceding that, we still have to wait over a month for their February 25th meeting to re-propose it. And then, assuming it’s approved, we have to wait 30 MORE days to be issued our permit thanks to a new waiting period they’ve just begun imposing this year. Which means that we won’t have a permit in our hands to begin working on this house until March 25th. Almost April. For two people who have been itching to fix this poor house up since November, well, a five month delay pretty much makes you feel like you’re taking crazy pills.

This stuff definitely happens, and it’s not that we didn’t expect it. We expect curveballs. But we haven’t even started yet! Nary a piece of mildewed drywall or a single foam ceiling tile has been removed. And considering we just spent the last year fixing up a house that’s ONE FREAKING HOUSE AWAY from this one and none of these early-on issues popped up, it just caught us off guard. But there’s that awesome quote by Veronica Dearly that I’m keeping in mind these days. Because guys, it’s totally true:

You can do hard things (but only after you’ve totally freaked out about them. Once you’ve done that you should be fine.)

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additionallysad · 6 years

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Why Renovations Can Make You Want To Scream Into A Pillow Sometimes http://ift.tt/2mGskIZ

The backstory, which we covered in podcast Episode #78, is that we’re proposing some exterior changes to the duplex, so the town’s Historic Review Board has to approve them. Most of it was small and basically a non-issue (tweaks to the front porch railing and stairs, for example). The biggest change was the roofline, because we were hoping to 1) raise the pitch of it and 2) add a dormer. The roof is effectively flat now, so increasing the slope will help it shed water better and allow us to put on a more affordable asphalt shingle roof on it (rather than an expensive and sometimes faulty rubber/metal flat roof). It would not only make it more reliable as a rental roof (definitely don’t want people calling to say there’s a leak during their beach week!) there are also hardly any other flat roofs in the historic district, so we thought they’d like that it would fit in better with the houses around it.

You can do hard things (but only after you’ve totally freaked out about them. Once you’ve done that you should be fine.)

The post Why Renovations Can Make You Want To Scream Into A Pillow Sometimes appeared first on Young House Love.

#additionally sad home renovations

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lowmaticnews · 6 years

Text

Why Renovations Can Make You Want To Scream Into A Pillow Sometimes

The backstory, which we covered in podcast Episode #78, is that we’re proposing some exterior changes to the duplex, so the town’s Historic Review Board has to approve them. Most of it was small and basically a non-issue (tweaks to the front porch railing and stairs, for example). The biggest change was the roofline, because we were hoping to 1) raise the pitch of it and 2) add a dormer. The roof is effectively flat now, so increasing the slope will help it shed water better and allow us to put on a more affordable asphalt shingle roof on it (rather than an expensive and sometimes faulty rubber/metal flat roof). It would not only make it more reliable as a rental roof (definitely don’t want people calling to say there’s a leak during their beach week!) there are also hardly any other flat roofs in the historic district, so we thought they’d like that it would fit in better with the houses around it.

You can do hard things (but only after you’ve totally freaked out about them. Once you’ve done that you should be fine.)

The post Why Renovations Can Make You Want To Scream Into A Pillow Sometimes appeared first on Young House Love.

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lukerhill · 6 years

Text

Why Renovations Can Make You Want To Scream Into A Pillow Sometimes

The backstory, which we covered in podcast Episode #78, is that we’re proposing some exterior changes to the duplex, so the town’s Historic Review Board has to approve them. Most of it was small and basically a non-issue (tweaks to the front porch railing and stairs, for example). The biggest change was the roofline, because we were hoping to 1) raise the pitch of it and 2) add a dormer. The roof is effectively flat now, so increasing the slope will help it shed water better and allow us to put on a more affordable asphalt shingle roof on it (rather than an expensive and sometimes faulty rubber/metal flat roof). It would not only make it more reliable as a rental roof (definitely don’t want people calling to say there’s a leak during their beach week!) there are also hardly any other flat roofs in the historic district, so we thought they’d like that it would fit in better with the houses around it.

You can do hard things (but only after you’ve totally freaked out about them. Once you’ve done that you should be fine.)

The post Why Renovations Can Make You Want To Scream Into A Pillow Sometimes appeared first on Young House Love.

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