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amiedala · 2 years

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SOMETHING DEEPER

CHAPTER 16: Andromeda

WARNINGS: canon-compliant violence, descriptions of blood and injuries, familial death, explicit mentions of past abuse

SUMMARY: Yavin still fills her heart like home.

Novalise—Andromeda—steps onto the warm green earth with an odd, radiant sense of peace. She’s not afraid. She’s not scared. She lived her life as Andromeda Maluev—sole surviving rebel girl—after losing her parents, her belief in goodness in strangers, and nearly stumbling her way into death. She’s faced the Calicans. She killed Xi’an. She found love and lost it and then found it again, shining brighter than the sun. She held Moff Gideon off with her hands. She could punch a god in the face and come out swinging.

Ladmeny Sparmau doesn’t scare her—Novalise. Not anymore.

But Andromeda is angry.

If you’re a newcomer, my fic “Something More” is the first installment of this story! <3

AUTHOR’S NOTE: HELLOOOOOO & HAPPY SD SATURDAY (AND MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL WHO CELEBRATE)!!! this chapter has been in the works for months—since i wrote Chapter 16 of SM all the way back in April. i've been honing this whole storyline ever since, and i can't even tell you all how much this one means to me—just that it resonates with you as much as it resonates with me. <3

Long before a Mandalorian, a strange Force bond, a little green alien becoming her child, a decision to lean directly into the Rebellion, a throne she never expected, a home anywhere else than Yavin, and Novalise Djarin exploded into existence, Andromeda Maluev was just a Rebel fighter pilot whose eyes shone with millions of ceaseless stars.

She came into the world like the Big Bang did—epic, eternal stardust. Andromeda was born aboard a starfighter, a tiny ball of screams and a symphony of jet-black hair, up there in the stars. And she was loved the same way she lived—vibrantly, endlessly, with the weight of the cosmos beneath her.

The only daughter of Piper and Arokel Maluev, Andromeda held everyone’s attention. From the second she burst into existence, she was a beacon. A heart that felt like a supernova, just after the impact and years before the eventual burnout. Her first word, unsurprisingly, was star. Murmured in that tiny, sweet voice, determined and sustained. At night, under the warm cloak of Yavin’s greenness, Andromeda would sneak out of her family’s bunk room and tiptoe to the end of the hall, perching on the inside of the windowsill, head tipped backward to fill up her vision with the galaxy. If she squinted, if she got the angle of it just right—there was nothing in her periphery but the glittering, endless night sky, living on for centuries longer than she ever would.

It comforted her, the forever crush of space—as a starchild, there was nothing scary about the galaxy’s edges. Even in the midst of the war, even as the Empire won, nothing could terrify Andromeda away from the stars.

Even her own parents. Even the adults on the base. Andromeda knew how to use her smile, all those glittering white teeth, to charm herself past security, into the landing bay, up the ladder of the closest X-Wing, and into the cockpit. She was six or seven—far too young to sport the traditional Rebel jumpsuit—but Andromeda was outfitted in orange, from head to toe. She pushed up on her tiptoes, flipped all the switches she’d spent months memorizing, and got the ship off the ground. Like it was easy. Like she was meant to fly.

And she was. No one batted a single eyelash at the tiny Maluev girl piloting the ship outside of Yavin’s atmosphere and into the stars above—no one, of course, except Wedge Antilles, who, honestly, secretly watched Andromeda pilot that starfighter like an expert for full minutes before he called it in, smile wide in glee.

“This is Red Leader,” Wedge’s familiar, slightly amused voice filtered through the comm system in the X-Wing, “I’ve got our little rogue one.”

And Andromeda was grounded. Not for long—her feet didn’t belong on the earth, they belonged, starstruck, in the sky—but momentarily. For a kid who never wanted to get in trouble, who couldn’t even give someone a mean look without feeling guilty for it, Andromeda was itching to eschew Yavin’s gorgeous green earth and trade it in for the endless expanse of the starry sky.

“You need to be careful,” Piper chastised her once, kneeling down in front of her, folding her tall, lithe body limb over limb to be compact enough to look straight into her daughter’s green spitfire eyes, one dark-skinned, gorgeous hand tracing a line across Andromeda’s cheek. “You’re not invincible. And you’re certainly not infallible.”

“Mom,” Andromeda had said, sighing with the weight of a seasoned fighter pilot, “out there, I feel like I am.”

Piper’s stern, serious expression had flickered for a second, faltered entirely, and took great force to reinstate. “I know you do,” she whispered, tucking a stubborn, dark curl behind the shell of her daughter’s ear, “you’re a Maluev.”

And Andromeda was proud to be a Maluev. Fiercely, determinedly so. Even as a child, even before she could walk on her own two feet without stumbling, she shared her mother’s love for mapping the galaxy, her father’s love of languages. Every time Andromeda looked in the mirror, she was met with fragments of both of them—Arokel’s sparkling eyes, muted into an early sage green; Piper’s gorgeous, curly hair that hung down her back instead of haloing out from around her face. The slope of Andromeda’s eyebrows and the bow of her upper lip curved in the same way her mother’s did. The tiniest smattering of freckles across her nose, a shade or two lighter than her deep, bronze skin, were a fraction of her father’s starfield. At night, her parents would tuck her under the covers and watch over her like Andromeda was her own fixed luminous point, like her body held vigor and stardust.

She loved them. And they loved her, endlessly, without abandon. As Andromeda grew from a tiny toddler to a small spitfire of a kid to a vibrant teenager, she didn’t shrug off her parents. She spent days poring over linguistics books with her father, and painstaking hours walking over large-scale cartography with her mother. In the middle of a war—this war, the one the Empire seemed to keep winning—there wasn’t any life to waste. The kids who were born on Yavin, on the Rebel base—they were a different kind of children. They were forged with greenness and fire, their bones a compound of starshine and determination. And in all of them, regardless of how different they were in every other regard, their hearts burned orange. Bright and furious and brimming with a fight that felt more like love than war.

“Miracle child,” Piper called Andromeda, brushing out her thick, cascading curls in the mirror of the shared, communal bathroom. “Starkid,” Arokel would say, his lopsided grin growing wide. The three of them were everything. Andromeda knew it, even with nothing else to compare it to—she grew up with a family. She grew up loved. She grew up knowing danger was out there, brimming on the horizon, but she never felt the evil invading the Rebel base, even in the darkest of times. She was protected. Her parents threw themselves in front of the world for her.

The battle of Scarif left Andromeda planted on the ground of Yavin. Even if she wanted to fly her X-Wing, go straight to the Death Star, and hunt down Darth Vader herself, she couldn’t. Rebels were few and far between. So many of them died standing up to the Empire—blown to nothing, reduced to pink mist, catching bullets between their eyes. The base stopped being green and gorgeous and untouched. All the gallantry and novelty of being a Rebel who lived in the heart of Yavin turned somber and silent.

Piper was meant to go. As a mapmaker, as the starchaser herself—delivering the Death Star plans into the hands of the Alliance instead of the Empire was a mission not many other people could take on. But Andromeda was sick, forehead burning up in fever, eyes flickering off somewhere between reality and dreamland. When Piper got up to leave, to join Rogue One, Andromeda’s tiny hand shot out in the darkness.

“Please,” she whispered, small voice shaking with something that cut Piper down to the bone, “please stay with me, Mom.”

So Piper did. Andromeda staved off her death once, twice—celestial mosaics that neither of them could ever fully quantify. Something had shifted, just beyond the veil. Neither of them could put their finger on it, but it beat on, a sucking, threatening heartbeat.

Weeks passed—days fleeting like ships popping in and out of warp. Andromeda was fourteen, on the cusp of fifteen, her hair to her waist, her jaw set in concentration. She was piloting X-Wings at six, and nine years later, she could fly in a way that put every single squadron to shame.

“How do you do that,” one of the cadets had whispered, in reverence, eyes as starry as her own. Andromeda was the only child of the Alliance who could evade better than shoot. She was on the offensive—she never fired first unless it was absolutely necessary. She flew through the starry skies like she had a map of them written into her anatomy. In every simulation, the TIE fighters on the tail of her X-Wing would eventually shoot at her and get caught in their own crossfire. She perfected her signature barrel roll at ten. She danced through the sky like it was a stage.

“Intuition,” Andromeda had whispered, dropping down on one knee like her parents used to, making herself level with the child’s awestruck face. “Don’t shoot. Let them bring the fire to you, and then drown it out.”

Intuition was the word that fell out of her mouth, coiled right on the tip of her tongue. Intuition, inevitably, became the Force, but Andromeda didn’t realize that until she became Novalise.

“Hey, Maluev,” a loud, friendly voice from behind her shouted.

Andromeda turned, watching the oldest group of cadet teenagers walk by in their orange jumpsuits, moving across green, earthly terrain towards the landing bay. It filled her chest with a jealousy that she couldn’t quite name—a yearning for something more.

The one who had spoken grinned, sparkling white teeth igniting through the air like gunfire. His hair was as dark and curly as hers was, his smile friendly and daring, his whole body shaking with glee and promise and the fight her parents had always carried. “Nice job.”

Andromeda smiled back, shielding her eyes from the sun. “Don’t get shot out there, Dameron,” she called, a warm breeze lilting across Yavin’s surface.

“Impossible,” Poe yelled back, already climbing into his X-Wing, worn with years of stardust and gunfire and rebellion, “I’m what one would call ‘a hell of a pilot’.”

That same yearning caught in Andromeda’s chest as she watched the squadron of Rebel starfighters lift off of Yavin’s surface, jet fuel shimmering in the air around them. The girl who had been so enraptured with Andromeda’s flying demonstration was now equally as enamored with the liftoff of Rebel ships, dancing in their wake.

“Someday,” Andromeda whispered, her eyes on the skies, trying to remember they were rushing into the middle of wartime and that most of them wouldn’t come back in one piece.

Days later—a third of the starfighters returned. No one could look up at the sky without remembering the people they lost, mourning and full to the brim with grief.

The Empire had won enough to build the Death Star, to hand out death like credits. Yavin didn’t feel like sacred ground anymore. It wasn’t untouchable. Andromeda could feel it prickling on the back of her neck—the endless, ceaseless feeling of being watched. There was something so tangible about this war, this threat. It was jagged and stuck to her skin like magma, like something she couldn’t extricate. Like something looming and horrible was seeping into Yavin’s atmosphere, poisonous and raw. The kind of death that sneaks in instead of needing to be invited—insidious, horrible, eternal—and by the time you realize it’s there, you’re already dying.

Arokel left Yavin a few days later—headed to Alderaan to recover texts to decipher an ancient language he only found in fragments. Andromeda could feel the squeeze of his absence in her chest, cloying and stuck to her, impossible to shake off. For every hour he was gone, she stood under the sky of Yavin, eyes trained on the atmosphere, trying to will her father back home before something horrific happened. The blue sky, serene and cloudless, faded into a salmon fire, sun slipping over the horizon. The stars came out one by one, shaking off the cloak of invisibility that everyone called daylight. Andromeda knew every single one of them, where they shone and sparkled above her head. With a mapmaker for a mother and a star-obsessed linguist for her father, she had no choice in the matter. Even before she was out there in the cosmos, she knew how to name their luminosity.

“Please,” she had whispered to the stars above, to the Maker heavenward, “please come home.”

“Maluev.”

Andromeda turned, heart catching in her chest, thumping frantically. It was one of the generals—one who she never knew by name, but always felt his presence—and there was a grim set to his jaw that upended everything in her stomach.

“You’ve been promoted,” he said, gruffly, tossing a flurry of orange through the night air. It wasn’t until she caught it in her hands that Andromeda realized it was an orange jumpsuit. Without permission, without warning, she hopped into the nearest grounded X-Wing and spat herself into the sky before anyone could stop her.

Space—true, vivid space—still filled her chest like home was always meant to. She’d been up here more times than she could count, even now, even in the midst of the war, but she’d never left the pull of Yavin’s atmosphere without anyone beside her in the cockpit. She inhaled a steady, sucking breath, squared her shoulders, cracked her neck, and pulled all of the thrusters into her hands, heading towards Alderaan.

It was exhilarating. There was a rush from flying that felt more like home than it did a high. Andromeda belonged in the skies above, out here with all of the stardust. It was familiar and endless and she thrived on the luminescence in front of her, on the steady hum of the X-Wing.

And then she felt it. Like something was squeezing her heart from the inside out, her vision dizzied and awful. There was a ringing in her ears that faded down to nothing, and her eyes closed involuntarily. Everything ran out of her backward. It was murky in the in-between—in this vision—but Andromeda could make out two things.

Her father’s face, illuminated by an explosion.

Alderaan being blown down to nothing.

She couldn’t help it. She screamed, vivid and raw, cut down to the bone. When she popped out of warp, the planet exploded. Alderaan—gorgeous, mountainous Alderaan, with pink skies and forever sunsets—was wiped down to absolutely nothing. It was horrible, watching something manmade have that much destruction. And then, like a prayer from above answered, Arokel’s starfighter emerged from the blast.

When the two of them got back to Yavin, ships orbiting each other like twin stars, Andromeda fell out of her X-Wing, running dazedly towards her father. He smelled like old books and the cold scent of space and strangely, wildflowers. She squeezed her arms around his orange, jumpsuit middle like she couldn’t let go.

“I’m okay,” Arokel breathed, smoothing his gentle, delicate hands over his daughter’s hair. “I’m okay.” It sounded like an oath, a promise, a vow. For days after, when the Alliance started to reflect more fight than it did hope, the three Maluevs spent every night together, just the three of them, in their tiny, sanctioned apartment. Piper made maps of stardust and vantablack, Arokel pored over ancient texts trying to bring languages back from the dead. Andromeda stayed between her parents, soaking in every single little thing about them, trying to mirror it, to write it down to her bones, into her anatomy, so that her heritage could never be forgotten.

It was a Friday when Piper and Arokel died.

So much of the time surrounding their demise was blurred, marred by hurt and mourning. Andromeda only recalled the day in fragments—her father pressing his smile against her sleepy forehead, her mother clasping her silver necklace around her daughter’s neck. They smelled like green earth and summer breeze and smoke from a campfire, something else she couldn’t name, and home, always home.

But she knew it was Friday. Nothing bad was supposed to happen on Fridays.

“See you soon, baby,” Piper had mouthed, so quiet it barely roused Andromeda from her dream. The last thing she got from her parents was a dark room, dawn cresting on the horizon, and letting her loose from her orbit. Later, once the sun fully rose, Andromeda was supposed to report for duty—real duty, gaining her Rebel orange jumpsuit for missions other than flying and evading—but it was still dark, still before morning came on the horizon.

She felt it before she knew it. It woke her up, the jolt of it, like electricity was shocking her down to her bones. It pulled grief through her body before she could put a name to it. Andromeda felt it, felt it everywhere, the knowledge that Piper and Arokel were gone, the instant it happened. She heaved herself out of bed, sprinting down the long hallway, feet bare, heart thumping. She ran past the long rooms of technology and war, moving like a catalyst, trying to find anyone in charge to confirm it.

“Rebel girl,” she heard, and Andromeda spun around, long hair flying wildly, eyes flashing. Wedge was standing behind her, looking so ridiculously out of place in pajamas instead of his perennial orange jumpsuit, his shoulders heavy, grief written in the lines of his young face.

“No,” Andromeda whispered, her heart bisecting itself right down the middle, her feet losing the ability to keep her upward. “No, no, no—”

“I’m so sorry,” Wedge murmured into her hair, supporting the back of Andromeda’s head like a vice. He sank down to the floor with her, both of them heaving out sobs, tears shed for the most alive, vibrant people they knew, getting taken out of this world. Andromeda stayed there, folded up on the floor, with Yavin’s gorgeousness right outside of her grasp. But something internal, something raw, told her that she would never feel like this was home again, that she’d have to make her own out among the stars.

It took a handful of weeks for the Rebel Alliance to gather their resources and their heroes in one place to fight back hard enough to make traction. The glee of living on the base had completely receded, gone cold. Every Rebel was focused on one thing and one thing only—taking the Empire down.

Andromeda tried. She followed orders, she went on every mission she was meant to, she spent all of her waking hours either in the war rooms or in the stars, but everything felt empty, a void only rivaled by a black hole. When the Empire was finally defeated for the first time—thanks to Wedge and Luke Skywalker—Andromeda knew she was done. She couldn’t suffocate in this place, couldn’t pretend to be joyous.

She told Wedge alone. If a Rebel was to defect, to delay their involvement, they had to plead a case in front of the generals, but Andromeda knew she couldn’t face the people that had sent her parents—her artistic, peaceful, alive parents—to their deaths.

“I need to go,” she whispered to Wedge, voice croaky from disuse, packing everything she could fit of her own into her bag, trying to reduce her lost home into material things.

“I know,” Wedge had said, eyes trained on her, careful and observant. “Andromeda,” he continued, quietly, handing her her favorite shawl, “the Empire didn’t win.”

She had fixed him with a defeated, sad stare. “Maybe so,” she whispered, “but I lost anyway.”

Space, for the first time, didn’t feel like home. The stars were cold and quiet, like they had been sucked clean of their shine. The tiny hull of the X-Wing was so silent that it hurt in her chest. Andromeda coasted through the entirety of the Outer Rim, coasting by planet after planet, trying to find a safe place to land. It took days, full ones, before she set down on any of them, and when she did, a little Rodian girl and her mother begged her for a safe passage to Coruscant, to get out of an active toxic zone.

And then, that was home. Space, the stars above—they felt like comfort again. Andromeda traversed the entire galaxy, bringing safety and harbor to people who wouldn’t get it otherwise. Out there, there wasn’t danger, or abusive partners, or the threat of the Empire still lingering. It was the first time that Andromeda felt full after her parents died—making sure other people didn’t have their home stolen out from under their feet like she did.

Jacterr Calican blazed his way into Andromeda’s life on her fifteenth trip to Coruscant. She had dropped down in a landing bay just on the outskirts of the city. Everything in Coruscant glittered. It was artificial—never a match for the space above—but it was pretty enough to keep her grounded, distracted. The cantina Andromeda walked into was full of flash and noise and music, and she was desperate to escape the silence, to be loud so she couldn’t ever feel the crushing weight of the quiet.

“Wow.”

Andromeda turned in her seat. She was slouched over against the bar, taking small sips of something bubbly and sweet, popping like fizz and fireworks in the hollow of her mouth. The man in front of her was tall—muscled and lean, with a lopsided smile that felt like heartbreak waiting to happen—but his eyes held the stars of the cantina’s fake shine, and it was enough for her heartbeat to quicken, to give her the first real chance at happiness.

“You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen,” he had whispered, dazed, hand spread-eagled over his heart.

Despite herself, Andromeda grinned. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

He shook his head, still moving in slow motion, staring at the contours of her face, the long slope of her neck, the way her sage eyes glittered in the low, sparkling light. “Maybe. But it wasn’t the truth until I met you.”

Her stomach flipped over. The stranger took the next barstool, and he was so dazzling that it hurt to look at him head-on. “What’s your name?”

Andromeda took a tiny sip of her drink, heart still hammering. “If I tell you,” she whispered, leaning in conspiratorially, “are you only going to refer to me as my name, or will you keep calling me gorgeous?”

He grinned. “I’ll call you anything you want.”

Andromeda squinted, sizing him up. “Andromeda,” she allowed, finally, crossing one built, thick thigh over the other.

The smile spread across his face made everything else fade out. “Andromeda,” he breathed, like he was savoring the taste of it on his tongue, “I’m Jacterr. Jacterr Calican.”

Andromeda’s grin melted over her face like the first summer thaw. “I like that you told me your last name.”

Jacterr grabbed her hand, pressing his mischievous lips to her soft skin. Everything inside of her lit up. “Good,” he said, his fingertips skating across hers as he pulled away, “you needed it. You’re going to take it someday.”

It wasn’t love. Maybe it was for a half-second, a fleeting moment, but after that, it was just devastation.

Coruscant turned from a soft melody of lights and noise and people into a prison. Everything felt too loud, too much, too suffocating. For the first few months, Jacterr was a perfect gentleman. He called her Andromeda like it was just another synonym for gorgeous. That grin, beautiful and charismatic, got inside of her and refused to get out. It burrowed in her belly like a toxin, seeping into her bones until Andromeda couldn’t get it out.

He kissed like he was teething. He fucked like he was starving. Both left Andromeda feeling wounded and malnourished. There was something haunted in the way Jacterr expressed need, movable and intangible. He gnawed away at everything until Andromeda got whittled down to bare bones, walking on eggshells to keep that smile on his face.

He left more than he stayed. At the beginning of their relationship, Andromeda tagged along for recovery missions—until she realized that Jacterr wasn’t preserving artifacts from the city, from the Jedi Temple, from everything Coruscant was before the Empire’s reign. He was pilfering, plucking relics and holy things from the rubble and selling them like they didn’t matter.

Andromeda was left on the ship, a hulking beast of a thing, filling her time with singing and showering and everything in between. Jacterr brought back a kyber crystal, dusty under layers of leveling, and something a lot like voltage shocked in her heart when she saw it, electrocuted.

“You can’t sell that,” she breathed, looking at the amethyst stone, her voice wavering.

She never saw the first slap coming. It collided with her cheek like it was magnetic. Tears sprung immediately into her eyes, horrible and loud, and she knocked off-kilter, a star getting torn off its axis. The durasteel of the ship’s floor was cold, so much harder than she was expecting, and the entire ten seconds in which it happened felt like an eternity.

When Andromeda looked up at Jacterr, trying to decide if he had really just hit her, there was nothing warm and charming left in his eyes. His jaw was set in a terrifying, evil way. There was no charisma left. Just darkness, betrayal, and something cold.

“Get up,” he snapped. Andromeda did, tears still flooding in her eyes, wanting to run. She couldn’t. She felt stuck there, glued down to the unforgiving metal and the man made out of misery. “Is this valuable?”

Andromeda swallowed. “I don’t know,” she whispered, honestly, “but it’s sacred.”

Jacterr considered it, pocketed the crystal, and turned to walk out into the overwhelming streets of Coruscant. “Don’t you even think about leaving,” he said, roughly, and then he pressed those wicked lips to Andromeda’s hand like it was the very first night.

It was weeks before she found the chance to get out. When Jacterr was aboard, Andromeda played the part to perfection—she stayed quiet and unassuming, she let him put his mouth on hers, she didn’t antagonize him. It was harrowing and scary and it made her fight or flight reflex pound inside of her chest, replacing her human heartbeat, but she waited.

Jacterr usually left for five hours. Five to pillage and pilfer, back to the ship for assessment, and then out for two more, hocking his spoils to the client that paid the most. After one hour, Andromeda gathered everything that was hers, wrapped her curly, signature hair up in her favorite shawl, and ran. She didn’t know Coruscant like Jacterr did, like anyone else would, because even though she’d spent close to three months living on the planet’s surface, she’d been in forced captivity, held on Jacterr’s starship like a prisoner.

But she was careful. She was intuitive and strong and forged from the best parts of her parents. Andromeda could make a map from nothing and then translate the dead language of it back to life. And for a second, a real second, she had a shot at escaping—a ticket in one hand, her bag in the other.

And if she hadn’t gone back into the cantina for a bottle of water to drink on the flight, she would have made it out so much earlier.

Merle Calican grabbed her by the hair and pushed her back under the water his brother drowned her under. Andromeda was dragged, kicking and screaming, back to his brother’s ship, and the way Jacterr treated her before was sunshine and daisies compared to how he did now. His words were fists and knuckles and steel-toed boots. Merle never hit her like Jacterr did, but he was unhinged, a live wire a second from sparking up like a pipe bomb and decimating everything down to flame.

At night, chained down to the floor, Andromeda closed her eyes, pretending that above her were thousands and thousands of stars, the home she’d never get back to without a fight, and whisper the word her father taught her to sustain her.

“Novay’lain,” Andromeda breathed, until the word felt like breathing, like surviving. She stayed awake through Coruscant’s illuminated, noisy night, and wished for silence for the first time since her parents died, for the safety of quiet, for something more.

The Jedi Temple was destroyed, leveled, brought down to rubble and ash. When Jacterr and Merle dragged Andromeda alongside the two of them, she knew there was a finality to it. They’d spent months ravaging the place, bringing it down to nothing, stealing everything sacred from the destruction, to pilfer the last memories of the Jedi out of existence.

Andromeda knew her time was coming to a close. She’d felt it for weeks, the way that the Calicans looked at her out of the corners of their eyes, the determined set of Jacterr’s jaw. When there was nothing related to the unknown and magical that Andromeda lived in left, she had no purpose to them. And they wouldn’t just let her go. That wasn’t how they operated.

So she was determined to either break free or die trying.

Merle had split off, ransacking a different room. She was loosely tied to Jacterr, sitting in the corner of what used to be a room before Order 66. Andromeda asked for a miracle from those stars above—to shine, to shine, to shine—and when Jacterr discarded the lightsaber, scoffing because it wouldn’t ignite, Andromeda’s hand moved towards it like something fated.

And, like magic, like the miracle she wished for—the thing ignited in her hand. Green and glimmering and a symbol of hope, the flicker and hum stronger than all of her fear. Andromeda cut herself out of the restraints and ran like she’d never run before. For her life. For the promises she made to the Alliance. For the chance to see Wedge again. For the stars above. And, more than anything else, for Piper and Arokel, for their sacrifice, for love.

The cantina came out of nowhere, Jacterr hot on her heels, and Andromeda disappeared through the entryway, trying to catch the breath that got sucked straight out of her lungs.

“Andromedaaaaaaaaaa,” he called, drawing out the word like venom, “I know you’re in here.”

When he found her, crouching in the corner, breath raggedy and exhausted, he wrapped a single hand around her throat, smiled, gave her a kiss, and then plunged a dagger into her stomach.

The pain was horrific. Awful, insurmountable. Andromeda looked down to see the blood running out of her in rivulets, spilling everything out in crimson. It was raw and terrible and the only reprieve was one, singular thought: I’m going to see my parents again.

She lifted up one, unsteady hand, and then, like it came alive of its own volition, the lightsaber flew from the dirt and rubble into her hand. Jacterr’s face, dangerous and sharpened, swam in front of her eyes, and then the thing ignited, as green and enduring as Andromeda’s eyes, running Jacterr and all his evil right through.

It happened so fast. It wasn’t intentional, and she was losing blood—fast—but Andromeda watched the horrible light leave his eyes. She gagged, still impossible to take in the horror of it all—killing someone, the gash in her stomach, and then everything went black.

Eventually, she made it to a ship—maybe hers, maybe not, it was impossible to tell—and got into the sky. The only proof of her injury happened hours later, blood clotted on her hands, wound in her stomach still hemorrhaging, a scream ripped itself out of her throat. She was able to see the space out of the front window, lost up here in the stars, and a faint, knowing smile flitted across her face.

Andromeda was born in the stars. She could die in them, too. It felt like divinity, like a cosmic rightness. And she was okay with it, really—she got off Coruscant, she stopped Jacterr Calican, and she’s out here, back amongst the stardust, exactly where she belonged. It’s okay, she thought. It’s better this way.

And then her father’s frozen, youthful face appeared, his ghostly hands clutching her cheeks. “Stay alive,” he whispered, with such vitality it brought Andromeda back to life. “It isn’t time.”

“You don’t die yet,” Piper’s voice sounded, traveling through the space-time continuum like an electric shock to Andromeda’s chest.

“Novay’lain,” Arokel breathed, low with the intensity of a lightning strike. To radiate. To shine in silence. To survive.

And then, the last thing she hears before using the lightsaber to cauterize her own wound, what quiets her scream—Novalise.

Andromeda doesn’t die. She’s forged from fire and stardust and Rebel orange, with stars in her eyes, with goodness in her heart. She’s too strong to go into death, to fade off out of life. So she recovers, out there alone in space, drifting through the Outer Rim, brimming with everything alive that the world tried to beat out.

Soon, she gets an X-Wing, she flies from planet to planet, she sustains. And she’s happy like that, she really is, without danger breathing down her neck, without needing to fight like taking in air.

And when she crash lands on Nevarro, stumbling straight into a metal, armored man and his adorable, strange green son, it feels like salvation. Like a second chance. Like something more.

Yavin still fills her heart like home.

Ladmeny Sparmau doesn’t scare her—Novalise. Not anymore.

But Andromeda is angry.

It lives inside of her, a gaping, sucking wound. It feels like fire, like the magma that flows through the rivers on Mustafar. There’s not enough words in any language to explain the gnawing pit inside of her that’s been growing, festering, eating away at her for ten years. It doesn’t matter that Nova just found out that it was Sparmau who was responsible for Piper and Arokel’s deaths. Andromeda has felt their loss for ten years.

Yavin is gorgeous, even in the nighttime. Millions of stars shine above the greenness, casting everything into dark, indulgent blues. A constant, restless breeze rustles through the trees, making them dance. It feels like a salutation, like coming home. The small parts of her that are still a child want to run into the abandoned base, seal herself in their tiny apartment, and live in the memory for as long as she can.

But Novalise is here to fight. And Andromeda is here for vindication.

She feels Sparmau before she sees her.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” Sparmau hisses, her tongue laced with venom, spitting evil into such peaceful air. Nova turns around, facing the wide expanse of tall grasses and purple flowers that bloom out in front of the forest. It feels poetic that Sparmau isn’t blocking where her room used to be—no, she’s obfuscating the terrain of Yavin, its green anatomy, the flora and fauna that forged Nova down to her blood.

“I don’t break my promises,” Nova says, cool and collected. “You better do the same.”

Sparmau’s evil smile cracks her face right down the middle. “I revel in the thought of breaking this one, and slowly killing every single person you love. Especially Bo-Katan. And your husband, the Mand’alor.” The word—such a sacred, holy title—sounds bastardized and hardened coming out of Sparmau’s mouth.

Nova doesn’t bite. She can feel the power inside of her flicker and pulse, ready to spark to life. On her throat, she wears the silver pendant of the Alliance. On her thigh, she wears the blue Skywalker lightsaber. On her body, she wears forged Mandalorian armor. The second this turns into a fight—a real one—she’s letting Novalise Djarin disappear into her skin and become Andromeda Maluev. Right now, she’s toeing the line, walking down the dead center like it’s a tightrope, her hands in both of her lives, past and current. “But you haven’t. Because I agreed to your terms, and I came here alone.” She lifts her chin, squaring her shoulders, sizing up Sparmau. Another reverent breeze spills down the moor, rustling everything back to life. “And at the end of the day, you want me.” Nova cocks her head to the side, in perfect imitation of Din. “Why?”

Sparmau stares her down. Everything about her stance, her expressions, should indicate power, but there’s a tiny flicker of fear that appears and disappears so quickly that most people wouldn’t catch it at all. “Can’t you feel it?” she asks, starting a slow, slow pace, moving the two of them into an orbiting circle. “How badly the Dark Side wants you?”

Nova moves deliberately, one boot in front of the other, following Sparmau’s cyclical movements. “Oh, I’ve felt it. I’m just not impressed.”

A glittering flash of teeth. “There is so much yet to come. With me. With the glory of the First Order. With what’s in store for the galaxy. You will be.”

“No, actually,” Nova says, offhandedly, her chosen name rippling against her heart like a wave, “I don’t think I will.”

Sparmau grins. “Don’t you want power?”

“No,” Nova says, shrugging, palming the grip of the lightsaber in its holster, “and the Dark Side’s overrated. I’d rather have light.”

Sparmau stops. Nova stops too. She can feel Andromeda inside of her, a shaking supernova, coiled right against the quick, but it’s not time, not yet. She holds herself back, letting the inside of her marrow be turned into thousands and thousands of glittering stars. “You and I are going to do great things together, Andromeda. We’re fated for this—for each other, for a great destruction. I know you feel it. I know you fight it, but you shouldn’t. I don’t want to fight you. I want you to join me.”

Nova breaks formation, steps forward. Once, twice. Sparmau’s face, underneath all the torture and terror, is beautiful. Nearly symmetrical, strong eyebrows, a slope of a nose, glittering black eyes framed by long lashes. Her mouth is a scarlet O, enticing and alluring. There’s barely any cracks in her armor, but there’s something soft buried underneath all of those razors. In another life, Nova thinks, maybe they could have met in the middle.

“Don’t fight me,” Sparmau whispers, her voice muted around the edges. “I’ll call you by your real name, will that help? Join me. Join me in greatness, Novalise.”

Nova lifts her chin, licks the diamonds of her teeth, regarding Sparmau. She can feel the lightning strike, the spitfire, the fighter pilot forged out of fire and stardust and Rebel orange. “It’s too late,” she manages, and then she narrows her eyes, opens her mouth, and lets Andromeda fly free. “You killed my family.”

The lightsaber is in her hand before Sparmau can react. And Nova, the version of her that knows the limits of the Force, the version that prefers to evade rather than fire, disappears. Andromeda is here, and she wants revenge.

She runs towards Sparmau, something in her body unhinged and unleashed. With a roar, she brings the blue lightsaber to life, the Skywalker blade humming and molded to her hand. Nova’s out of practice, but she doesn’t need the movements she’s memorized over the last year. She doesn’t need to conjure certain strikes. She just needs to let the Force take over, channel it for this. She’s Andromeda Maluev, resuscitated and brought back to life. She’s powerful and she’s hungry and she’s unstoppable, and for the first time, embracing her former self doesn’t hurt.

Sparmau is caught off guard for a second—one single second—and then she screams, a guttural, piercing shriek that rattles through Yavin. Andromeda has taken over, uncoordinated and messy, but the one thing that she kept inside of her even when she changed her identity was the way she fought. On the offensive, using her intuition. Equal styles of fighting rise to her fists, knocking Sparmau back towards the abandoned base. The odd, eerie light of the azure blade illuminates across Sparmau’s determined, twisted face, and for a minute, Novalise has the upper hand.

“You’re good,” Sparmau marvels, her voice breathless, and then her evil, black-clawed hand cuts through the hum and forces Nova’s arm away from her throat. She’s not even touching her, and Sparmau is driving her into the ground, knocking the Skywalker lightsaber out of her grasp. “I’m still better.”

Nova chokes on nothing, and then, the topography of her scar meets the pavement, and a new surge of energy rips through her like a tornado. She survived getting cut through with a knife, with nothing but a lightsaber and her own hands to patch up the wound. She survived the loss of her parents. She survived when Din left her on Dantooine. She survived hell and she survived worse, and she’s sure going to survive this one.

The rip of energy tears through her body, a hurricane of moving parts and voltage. Nova heaves herself to her feet, holding one arm straight out for the lightsaber, the other stretched out in front of her to hold Sparfmau at bay. The weapon flies straight into the crux of her palm. The hand outstretched in front of her immobilizes Sparmau in her place. With a Herculean force, Nova steps forward, forcing Sparmau back.

“I don’t need to be better than you,” she spits, the blue glow of the lightsaber illuminating her hand, her face, the evil in front of her. “I just need to be stronger.”

Sparmau grins, her teeth sliding out from behind her lips. “I don’t want to kill you, Andromeda. But I will.”

Nova cocks her head to one side, pulling the hand holding the lightsaber with all of her might. She wants to slice Sparmau straight down the middle, bisect her just like she broke Andromeda’s heart. She wants to atone for everything Sparmau did to Bo-Katan. She doesn’t want justice. It’s not even that she wants revenge. She wants to save the galaxy. And, more than anything, she wants to prove that she can survive all of this, too. “That’s where you’re wrong,” Nova grits out, whole body shaking with brute force, “I do want to kill you.”

Against all reason, this makes Sparmau smile more. “There’s a little darkness in you, yet.”

“Maybe,” she says, and then Nova comes back in full force—Rebel, Jedi, Mandalorian. “But I’m not here for that. This,” she whispers, voice volatile, “is for Bo-Katan.”

With all the strength in her body, Nova surges forward, swiping at Sparmau’s face. When she moved defensively, she covered her abdomen, her neck, her heart. But Nova doesn't need to go for the jugular. She just needs to go for flesh. Sparmau roars as the lightsaber singes her cheek, gnarly and deep, and she gets knocked back a few steps.

“I didn’t think,” she spits, looking back up at Nova, blonde hair flying in the breeze of the force between them, “that you had that in you.”

“I’ll prove it,” Nova says, sheathing the lightsaber. The Force runs through her hands like an electric current, shaking and bright. It’s just Sparmau and her hands against Novalise and hers, and both of them clench their fingers and contort their bodies. Sparmau’s trying to wound. Nova’s trying to subvert the energy back on her enemy.

“When I kill the people you love,” Sparmau seethes, “I’ll make it like how your parents died. Screaming, scared, alone.”

Nova roars, but Sparmau breaks through. She wraps her taloned hand against Nova’s throat, and knocks both of them to the ground, the weight of Sparmau’s lithe body pinning Novalise to the ground Andromeda was forged from. Nova chokes as Sparmau’s hand closes around her throat. Everything fractures off into blackness, like the sucking wound of a black hole. She can see vivid, awful images—Bo-Katan being tortured, Din tied up and stripped of his armor, Wedge being suffocated, her parents dying, dying, dying. Her lips open and close, staring up into Sparmau’s evil face.

“What?” Sparmau asks, running her tongue over her awful, pointed teeth. “I can’t hear you.”

Nova’s eyes close, just for a second. She feels it all—the way she grew up here, loved; Andromeda Maluev still living in her bones; training alongside Grogu; the knowledge that she’s made up of the same cosmic stuff Luke Skywalker is; kissing Din’s bare lips in the dark; the beauty of the pink skies of Naator; the home in every Rebel base she lives in; Bo-Katan admitting they’re friends; the strange solace that Mandalore breathes into her lungs; Din, Din, Din, their life together, everything they share, something more, something deeper, something holy.

“This one,” Nova chokes out, hand slipping into her boot, curving possessively around the dagger laced with poison, “is for my parents, for the galaxy I’m saving, and for myself.” With one giant, heaving battle cry, Nova lets Novalise and Andromeda meet in the middle, glow out stardust, and shine, shine, shine. The taste in her mouth is like fighting back. Right before the impact, Nova sees a golden, shimmering heaven, and above her is the reflection of her saintlike self, ascended and holy.

Novalise plunges the venom-laced dagger straight into Sparmau’s chest.

It takes a second. But then Sparmau chokes on blood, crimson spilling out of her mouth and onto Nova’s neck, and with one shove, one horrible act of strength, Sparmau impales herself on her own weapon of incredible destruction. Nova can’t breathe, but she hauls herself to her feet anyway, everything around her amorphous and blurry, oxygen stuttering through her veins. She looks down at Sparmau, wiping blood out of her mouth, and when she falters, Nova touches two fingers to the Rebel insignia hanging from her neck.

For the first time in ten years, Andromeda Maluev feels peace.

Sparmau splutters, roaring even around the blade, and the noise alone jolts Novalise into a run. She moves through the tall grasses of Yavin, purple flowers parting like a wave around her knees. She can hear Sparmau dragging her poisoned, daggered body after her, so Nova doesn’t look back. This place is meant for revival, not for death—not even Sparmau’s.

Nova makes it onto Kicker, ignoring the incessant red flash of her commlink, and locks the gangplank behind her, pressing enough buttons that she hopes will lead her into the sky.

And then she passes out. Clean out, energy depleted, every single cell in her body exhausted.

Nova doesn’t know how long she’s out for. But when she wakes up through blurry, half-lidded eyes, it’s decidedly not on Kicker. She chokes, the feeling of Sparmau’s dangerous hand around her throat still suffocating, and she kicks out a worn leg at the man kneeling in front of her.

“Whoa,” he says, evading the impact of Nova’s steel-toed boot. “I figured you were a fighter, considering the shape you were in when we reeled you in, but don’t take the guy who saved you out.”

Nova stares, her vision still blurry and distorted. Faintly, and she can’t tell if it’s a dream talking, she hears a strange, animalistic roar. She shakes her head, pressing a hand over the scar on her belly, inflamed and painful, trying to get her bearings. She doesn’t seem to be in any danger, here—this ship is oddly circular, made more for cargo than passengers, but it’s warm, and there’s a game of Sabacc on a tiny table, and she’s wrapped in a blanket. Slowly, she blinks her eyes, trying to adjust to the surroundings, and then the same man she almost took out approaches her cautiously. He’s still blurry around the edges, but familiar for some reason, and then the roar sounds again, and Nova looks to her left.

There’s a Wookiee on this ship.

Finally, finally, Novalise’s vision focuses. In front of her is the silhouette of someone she’s only known through legends—and suddenly, all the strangeness of this ship turns itself the right way up. “Maker above,” she chokes out, her voice raspy from Sparmau’s lasting grip.

“Close, but I prefer to go by Han,” the man grins, and Nova blinks until he comes into full form. “Welcome aboard the Millennium Falcon.”

And then Nova plummets right back out of consciousness, gone before her head hits the wall.

I HOPE YOU LOVED IT!! seriously, i cannot tell you all how emotional the journey of FINALLY writing this chapter was. i am so ready for you to read it, and i cannot wait to hear what you think. thank you endlessly for sticking with me, loving Novalise, and followed us both into something deeper.

i've decided to take a brief hiatus for the remainder of the holiday season to celebrate (safely) with my family and loved ones, which means that CHAPTER 17 WILL BE UP AT 7:30 PM EST ON SATURDAY, JANUARY 8TH!!!

i hope all of you have a restful end of 2021, and that the new year brings joy, solace, and hope. take care of yourselves, stay safe and healthy, and i'll see you in two weeks with Chapter 17 <3

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cxsmicmyeon · 3 years

Text

HAPPY NEW YEAR , OSH [M]

oh sehun x fem! reader

IN WHICH you're forced to go to your best friend's giant new year's eve party, only to hit it off with someone who equally doesn't want to be there.

genre: college au! fluff and smut (toward the end) word count: 5.0k warnings: stupid jokes, swearing, sexual content, dirty talk, cunnilingus

author's note: MOODBOARD MADE BY ME. I DON'T OWN THE IMAGES, I ONLY OWN MY EDITING. also this is cross-posted from ao3 (i wrote it back in january for the new year lol). feedback and notes are greatly appreciated <3

Ugh.

That was the only word that came to mind as you navigated your way through the banquet hall. You grumbled to yourself as you adjusted your dress for the fifteenth time that night, resulting in your clutch dropping onto the floor. You resisted the urge to shout an expletive as you bent to pick the small bag up, which only resulted in your dress moving to that stupid spot that you didn't want it to go. A soft 'God' slipped from your lips as you adjusted your dress once again, this time gripping your clutch tightly in your right hand. Once you were contented, you resumed your trek to the venue you tried hopelessly to avoid.

Tonight was your best friend's annual New Year's Eve extravaganza. Normally you'd be a bit more willing to attend, as these parties were usually limited to 20-30 people in either her parent's house or your shared apartment, but apparently she found the need to rent out an entire fucking rooftop penthouse room filled to the brim with alcohol, hors d'oeuvres and packed with every single student that went to your college.

To put it rather bluntly, you hated the party scene that came with college. The thought of being at some fraternity with obnoxiously loud music shaking the entire house, an entire mass of sweaty drunk people doing God knows what and random couples eating each other's faces off was unappealing to be a part of. Maybe it sounds rather prudish, but you highly preferred nights in with a bottle of wine on your coffee table and Netflix queued up on the next episode of your favorite show or your laptop open to continue writing your novel over an en masse of horny and drunk people shoving you around the living room of someone's house.

Your best friend, on the other hand, lived for partying. Every Saturday night not spent studying, she'd beg you to come to the party her boyfriend or classmate was having. And after your declination and 'Don't have too much fun!" she'd return the next morning with a giant hangover with (on some occasions) hickeys on her neck that looked like vampire bites. By now, you were used to her drunk texts at 3 am and having to hold up her hair every time she puked her guts out. And these were reasons that simply fueled your hatred for large parties.

New Year's Eve was your only exception for large parties (mostly). Back in high school, her parents allowed her to invite you and a few classmates over for what they called a 'New Year's Sleepover.' You liked those well enough simply because they were rather small, you knew everyone there and you even got to steal a drink of champagne from the wine closet. As you entered college, the past two parties became a tad more crowded but were still bearable in your eyes. But this year, the New Year's Eve of your junior year, took the cake. Exams were a lot more rigorous this year and to celebrate everyone getting through it, your idiot of a best friend used practically all of her savings to rent out the largest rooftop venue in your area for what she called 'the New Year's party that'll fuck any other party in the ass.' She sent invites to the entire student body (which, naturally, 95% of them RSVP'ed to). While you tried your best to stop her, she persisted. And when you begged her to let you stay at home, she persisted yet again. So here you were, bracing yourself for a night of... honestly you had no clue.

You stopped in front of the entrance of the large room, your breath hitching in your throat. The music was from a genre you weren't familiar with, the bar was blocked by a large crowd and your best friend was nowhere to be seen. Slightly turning around from the disaster waiting to happen, you took in a deep breath before turning back and entering.

The stench of champagne and sweat immediately made you recoil and question your decision for even coming. You internally scoffed as you shifted through the crowd to find your best friend. You softly muttered 'excuse me' to every person you passed (or accidentally shoved) as you begged whoever was in the sky that your best friend was near. You struck gold when you saw her sprawled out on a loveseat surrounded by her boyfriend and others you didn't know by name. You pushed through a few more people before stopping in front of the group. Your best friend turned around immediately and let out a loud squeal.

"Heyyy!" she slurred as she threw her arm around you. You rolled your eyes as a smile etched itself onto your face, knowing she was already drunk as hell.

"Hiiii..." you responded, replicating her energy. She let out a loud howl of laughter as she led you to a small table next to the sofa. She picked up a plastic flute filled with champagne and practically shoved it in your hand. You laughed as she grabbed a red plastic cup from her boyfriend's hand.

"A toast, to the New Year!" she bellowed as she clinked your glass and her cup together.

"Happy New Year!" You responded. She snickered as she led you to sit down on the sofa.

"Hey (Y/N), Happy New Year!"

"You too, Baekhyun." You clinked your glass with your best friend's boyfriend's glass and took a sip of the fizzy drink. You let out a breath you were unaware you were holding in as the familiar taste of champagne washed over your tastebuds. Even if you were dreading tonight, you couldn't deny the free food and drinks being made available.

Quickly you were introduced and re-introduced to a bunch of Baekhyun's friends. They were nice enough, sure, but you found their energy to be a bit much (especially paired with the excess of alcohol that they all consumed). Luckily, you gave the group the excuse that you needed another drink and left them to their own accords.

After taking a second flute of champagne from the bar, you found yourself wandering onto the balcony. Luckily for you, it was completely deserted. With a small smile, you shut the sliding door and wandered toward the metal railing, slowly sipping your champagne. Setting the plastic flute and your clutch down on a nearby table, you readjusted your dress (yes, again) and slipped your heels off, sighing in relief that your feet were finally free from those restrictive shoes. You felt a chill down your spine as your feet touched the bare ground, stepping a couple of times in place to help adjust to the temperature. You took the champagne glass from off of the table and lifted it to your lips, taking another sip as you looked out into the night sky.

You took a deep breath as you finally felt yourself relax. The music from inside the venue was muffled a great deal and the cold temperature the winter night brought was a comforting contrast to the heat from inside the building coupled with the crowd of sweaty college students. The sky was thankfully clear from any clouds, so you were able to enjoy the comforting presence that the waning gibbous moon coupled with the scattered stars brought. Taking another sip of your champagne, you took a few steps until you felt the cold metal of the railing. You leaned slightly forward as you continued looking and admiring the sky, feeling surprisingly at peace considering your location.

Soon enough you realized that someone else has also decided to leave the party, as you heard the music grow louder then muffled again. You turned to see a tall man around your age typing quickly on his phone with a red plastic cup in his other hand. A tall, attractive man at that.

He wore a simple oversized gray hoodie coupled with a pair of blue jeans. His jet black hair appeared tousled underneath his dark beanie, and suddenly you felt a tad overdressed. You couldn't help but ogle at how his brows furrowed in concentration as he continued looking down at his phone, how eerily well-defined his jawline was- wait, scratch that- how his entire face was well-defined. You couldn't help but mutter 'damn...' to yourself as you looked away for a second to gather your thoughts. When you looked over at him again, he was staring in your direction. Immediately you felt a blush creep onto your cheeks as he walked a little closer to you.

"Hi, sorry. I hope I'm not interrupting your vibe or anything." he said softly.

"Oh, don't worry about it, you're good. 'S long as you're not loud or annoying." you joked in response. He let out a short laugh as he downed the rest of his drink, placing the empty cup next to your clutch. You took a small sip of your champagne and turned back to look at the sky. Absentmindedly, you placed the glass down onto the balcony, not realizing that the bars were too narrow to support the bottom of the glass. You looked down in utter shock as the glass made its descent down the building. You covered your mouth with your hands when the glass shattered before your eyes on the ground below. Turning around you saw the man pursing his lips together in an attempt to hold back a laugh. When he looked back at you, you couldn't help but let out a loud giggle. He doubled down with laughter at the event, which only made you laugh harder.

"Jesus fucking Christ, how tragic." you chuckled. The man covered his mouth to try and conceal his louder waves of laughter; the sound intensifying your own laughter. Eventually, you let out a loud sigh in an attempt to calm yourself down. The man coughed into his elbow and cleared his throat, effectively calming himself down.

"You want another one of those?" he asked, pointing to the mess of glass shards and wasted champagne well below them.

"Nah, I'm good. Thanks though," you responded with a smile. He nodded, looking around the area for a second. "Huh, it's clear you don't wanna be here either."

He let out a playful scoff as he stretched his arms. "How'd you know?"

"'Cause you're out here with some random ass girl you don't even know when you could be among that sweaty-ass crowd of other people you don't even know." you deadpanned. He chuckled at your joke, which made you smile a bit as a result.

"I'm Sehun, by the way." he said, holding his hand out in front of you.

"(Y/N), nice to meet you." You replied, shaking his hand. You felt your heart skip a beat at the contact; his hands were slightly calloused but surprisingly soft at the same time. You unconsciously squeezed his hand before pulling away, tucking a stray hair behind your ear as you blushed slightly.

"So... how'd you get invited to this? I think like every student was invited." Sehun inquired.

"Oh, my best friend actually was the one who invited everyone. Obviously I had to show up 'cause she is my best friend. Even if I loathe the idea of hundreds of loud, drunk college kids gathered in one giant venue with music I don't even like to listen to. But it's cool, though. 'Least there's a balcony out here for some peace and quiet," you explained. "How about you?"

"I came with my brother. One of his friends I believe is dating your best friend? So, obviously, he insisted I come with." he responded.

You let out a short laugh at his response. "Baekhyun is her boyfriend."

"Right... Yeah, they're pretty close."

"Oh sick, I may know him. What's his name?"

"Jongin."

"Oh, Jongin! Yeah, I know him. He's pretty nice." Sehun nodded, looking down at his feet.

"Yeah, a lot of people know him. Obviously. He's so popular. He's so handsome. Loads of girls and guys wanna get into his pants 'cause he's such a good dancer. Everyone loves Jongin. Meanwhile, when people find out we're related, they always ask 'Oh you're so quiet! You're so different from Jongin!' Well sorry I don't party 24/7 and actually study a lot so I can get my degree!" Sehun ranted. You were stunned at his sudden anger. A soft expression made its way onto your face as you wanted nothing but to quell his fury.

"I'm so sorry, I know that's a lot to unload on a complete stranger. I'll go back in now." Sehun began to make his way back inside before you grabbed his arm, stopping his movement. He turned around with a shocked expression present on his face.

"Shh. Don't worry about it at all. I get your frustration, honestly. I know what it's like to get those comments. It fucking sucks, I know. But can I say something? I've known Jongin for a few months and you for like a half-hour and wanna know something? I feel a lot more comfortable around you than him. Again, he's a good guy and all, but a little much at times. I vibe better with more reserved people honestly." you reassured, giving his arm a small squeeze before letting go. His face lit up at your comment. A grin etched itself on his face as he walked back to his previous spot.

"So. Who is Sehun 'I-Don't-Know-Your-Last-Name-So-Fuck-This-Bit-Isn't-Gonna-Work?' You do go to ISU, right?" you asked, grinning.

"It's Oh. And yes, I do go to ISU." Sehun responded.

"Okay, hi Sehun Oh. I'm (Y/N) (L/N). And holy shit we go to the same school! How come we've never run into each other?"

"Hi, (Y/N) (L/N). Also, I'm a chem major, is your major different?"

"Oh, no wonder! My major's secondary English education. Science is on the opposite side of campus, right?"

"Yeah. We should totally hang out sometime. Well, when we're not escaping a large ass party." You let out a giggle at his quip, which caused him to blush and rub the back of his neck.

"I'd like that a lot," You gave him a warm smile, resulting in a warm blush spreading across your face. Sehun smiled sheepishly in return, looking down at his feet again.

"So... uh... wait, shit. I'm not good with small talk, sorry." he rambled, folding his hands together while twiddling his thumbs.

"Don't worry, neither am I. Uh... I dunno... Wait, I got it. What do you do besides studying since you don't like to party 24/7 like the icon you are?" You and Sehun began giggling softly as he put his hands on his hips.

"Well, I actually dance. Jongin and I have been taking lessons since we were kids. And, uh... my friend Chanyeol and I composed a couple of songs together for his music class a while back. And I made up choreography for one of them."

You felt your jaw drop at Sehun's answer. "You dance and make music? That's so fucking sick! You literally became 10 times cooler than you already are. Uh, not that you weren't cool to begin with... but, uh, making music and dancing is hard! Honestly, kudos to you."

"Thanks," he said, grinning sheepishly. "How 'bout you?"

"Well... I read a lot, I write a lot, I'm finishing up my second novel, uh... that's it, I guess. Well, besides studying."

"Hold on. You've written a whole novel? You're calling me 'the cool one' when you wrote a novel? And you have another one in progress? You're amazing," You swore you were going to faint. "Now you have to show me."

"Do I have to?" you pouted.

"Pleeeeaseeeee? Please, please, please?" Sehun whined.

"Hm... I have a proposition for you. Show me your choreography and your song and maybe I'll let you read a few chapters of my first novel."

"Deal."

"Well damn, okay. Show me the song first."

Sehun nodded and took his phone out of his pocket. He spent a few seconds typing and scrolling before setting it down on the table.

"Uh, it's called 'We Young,'" Sehun stated quickly before tapping the middle of his phone screen. He backed up from the table and straightened himself out. You focused your attention on him as the song began playing from his phone. You let out a soft 'ooh,' immediately being intrigued and fascinated by the melody of the piano and the drum beats chosen. As you heard Sehun sing from the phone, he closed his eyes and felt himself get lost in his dance.

Your jaw dropped at the sight. Watching the way his fluid movements intricately matched the rhythm of his song was like watching a flurry of snow getting caught in a gust of wind. His passion for the craft was full-on displayed right in front of you. Every single movement he made perfectly encapsulated the message of his song. The way he bobbed his head for a few seconds before jumping straight into the chorus while mouthing the lyrics kept your attention. You simply couldn't look away.

'God, the way he moves his hips. I so wouldn't mind him moving those hips against my-'

You shook your head at your thoughts. Sure, Sehun was nice. And really hot. And also really easy to talk to. But would he be comfortable with doing anything with you? You did not want to push anything onto him, even if it meant you had to repress any thoughts you had about him maybe fucking you against the railing like the world was going to end. Or feeling those large hands cup your breast and rub your clit simultaneously. Maybe.

Before you knew it, Sehun stopped his dance and paused the song. "So... what did you think?" Sehun's voice snapped you out of your trance, feeling yourself blush due to your inappropriate thoughts. You shook your head lightly and turned to face him.

"What did I think? What did I think? Holy shit, that was... that was amazing! You are so fucking talented, it's unreal!" you exclaimed while clapping your hands softly. He grinned at your response, happy that you liked the song and dance.

"Okay, (Y/N)'s novel time! Yay!" he cheered. You playfully rolled your eyes as you opened up your clutch to take your phone out. You unlocked it and pulled up Google Docs, opening up your manuscript to show him.

"So this is the final manuscript of my first novel, titled 'Neckties and Rosé'. It's a cheesy, romantic, sexy, angsty mess of an office romance. Or, to put it lightly, angstier and sexier Jim and Pam from 'The Office.'" you explained. Sehun nodded and giddily took the phone out of your hands.

He began to dramatically read the prologue of the book. As he read, you were alternating between laughing hysterically at the various voices he gave the different characters and whining due to his teasing of the actions of the characters. You also noticed that he was enjoying himself thoroughly, much to your delight. You felt as if you were around one of your closest friends rather than a complete stranger at the moment, sharing similar humor and personality traits.

"'While Cordelia angrily slammed her car door, she swore she saw Rocky throw her a cocky smirk through the rearview mirror, which only added fuel to the dumpster fire that was her hazed state of mind.' And that concludes the prologue of 'Neckties and Rosé.'" Sehun announced, locking your phone and handing it back to you.

"So... whaddya think?" you asked shyly, looking down at your feet.

"(Y/N)... that was so fucking great! It sounded like you've been writing for like a thousand years rather than it being your first novel. Damn, you're amazing. Please send me it when you can, I wanna read the rest!" he praised, grinning at you. You couldn't help but return his smile, a jovial feeling igniting inside.

After a beat, you turned your phone on to look at the time: 11:59 PM.

"Oh shit, it's almost midnight!" you exclaimed, showing Sehun the time.

"Oh, wow. I honestly thought it was still 10-ish."

Soon enough, you began to hear the crowd inside count down from thirty, signaling the close arrival of the New Year. You bashfully looked at Sehun as you began twiddling your fingers together.

"Can I say something?" you questioned, earning a nod from the dark-haired male. "I... I've never had a New Year's kiss."

"Um, me neither, actually."

"D-d'you want to... I mean, if you're comfortable of course."

"Uh, yeah, sure. I kind of wanted to ask earlier, but I wasn't sure if you'd want to kiss me."

"Trust me, I would be honored to kiss you." You walked closer to Sehun until your bodies were centimeters apart.

"Three!"

You blushed as Sehun wrapped his toned arms around your waist. A jolt of electricity pulsed through your body at the contact, causing you to put your hands on the back of his neck.

"Two!"

He gave you a small smile as you stood on your tippy-toes, mentally preparing yourself for what was about to happen.

"One!"

You closed your eyes as you slowly leaned in for the kiss.

"Happy New Year!"

The moment your lips touched his, you swore you could feel fireworks going off inside of you. The scent of his musky cologne filled your nose as you kissed back with equal fervor. Sehun let out a groan as you entangled your fingers through his dark locks. His hand snaked down your back and cupped a handful of your ass, causing you to moan in his mouth. He took the opportunity to bite your lip lightly and put his tongue in your mouth. You cupped his cheek and pressed yourself even closer to him, practically getting drunk on the scent of his cologne and the subtle taste of beer on his lips.

"Yooo! Get some, (Y/N) and Sehun!"

You regrettably pulled away from Sehun as you turned to the door separating the balcony and the inside of the venue. You saw a drunk Baekhyun being held up by your equally tipsy best friend and one of his taller friends, also with the boys you recognized from earlier in the night. You felt yourself turn red as you buried your face in your hands.

"Girlie, no worries! Get some tonight! Lord knows ya need it!" your best friend slurred before letting out a loud hiccup.

"Same goes for you, Sehun!" another one of Baekhyun's friends jeered, earning a soft 'Ugh' from the taller male next to you. The boys began laughing and teasing Sehun as you collected your shoes and clutch, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone.

"You wanna get out of here?" You heard Sehun whisper in your ear, sending a chill down your spine.

"God, yes."

The boys and your best friend erupted into whoops and cheers as Sehun took your hand into his and led you back inside of the banquet hall. He held you close as you pushed past the larger crowd of drunk college students. Luckily you successfully left the venue unscathed and made your way to the elevator, out of breath and silently giggling.

"Wait, fuck. I don't have my car with me." you muttered as you followed Sehun inside of the elevator.

"I have mine, don't worry." Sehun responded before capturing your lips again. You uttered a soft moan as you pressed him against the back wall of the elevator. He broke the kiss to bury his face in the crook of your neck.

"God, I could take you right here baby. You're so fucking hot." he mused, nipping at your neck. You whimpered in pleasure as he sucked your sweet spot and palmed your ass until the doors of the elevator opened. He took your hand into his and led you out of the shaft, out of the building and to his car.

It took every fiber of your being to resist shoving Sehun into the backseat of his car and fucking him right there. He insisted on taking you to his apartment for, in his words, 'a lot more privacy.' The ride over to his place was silent yet filled to the brim with sexual tension. As he drove, you held back a moan as he placed his big hand on your thigh and almost ordered to stop the car as his fingers slowly yet surely moved toward your clothed core.

As soon as you entered the apartment, his lips were immediately on yours again. He slipped his tongue into your mouth as he hoisted your legs up so you could wrap them around his waist. Impressed by his strength and flexibility, you cupped his cheeks in the palms of your hands and deepened the kiss.

He brought you into his bedroom and slammed the door before laying you down onto his bed. He looked at you with hooded eyes as he pulled his hoodie off and discarded it to the side. You reached your hands under his t-shirt, feeling the smooth outline of his abs before pulling it over his head. You ogled at how his chest shone under the moonlight, indistinctly licking your lips as you put your hair back. He wrapped his arms around you, leaving butterfly kisses along your neck and jawline as he unzipped your dress.

You shifted away from Sehun to slide your dress down your legs and toss it across the room. His eyes flew down to your braless chest, a small smirk toying with his features.

“No bra? You’re a naughty girl, aren’t you?” A smart remark got stuck on your tongue as he latched his lips onto your left breast. He swirled his tongue around your nipple as he brought his hand to your other breast, massaging it gently. You threw your head back in absolute bliss. How were you getting this wet from him simply touching you?

Sehun laid you down on the bed, giving you a lingering kiss before pulling your panties down your legs.

“Wet for me already, hm?” Sehun hummed as he grazed a finger down your folds. He let out a contented hum as he lowered himself down between your legs, spreading your thighs apart while licking your arousal off his finger.

“Oh God, Sehun!” you moaned out as he slid his tongue between your folds. He eagerly began licking your dripping cunt, groaning softly as he tasted you for the first time. You fisted a handful of his jet black hair as he alternated between sucking on your clit and lapping your juices like a man starved.

"You taste so fucking good," he cooed, the vibration of his voice between your legs sending a jolt of electricity down to your center. You felt your orgasm creep closer and closer the more he ate you out.

"S-Sehun, I'm gonna..." you cried out. Right as you were on the cusp of coming all over Sehun's beautiful face, he stopped his ministrations and looked back up at you, his mouth dripping with your arousal. You whined as he wiped your juices off of his chin, slipping his digits into his mouth. Your jaw dropped at the sight; here this gorgeous man was, licking your arousal off his long fingers. It drove you bonkers.

"Shh, you're not gonna cum unless it's all over my cock. I want your pretty cunt wrapped around me as you cum, got that baby?" You nodded with a whine as Sehun walked over to his bedside drawer. He opened it and took out a condom, ridding himself of his pants and boxer briefs as he walked back to you.

"Mmmh, hurry up, I need you inside of me," you croaked, watching Sehun stroke his half-hard cock, eliciting another moan. He tossed you the golden package, which you happily ripped open.

"So needy," he scoffed. You stuck your tongue out at him while you rolled the condom onto his cock, palming him swiftly. He hissed as he aligned himself to your entrance, wrapping his arms around you. "Ready?"

"Just fuck me already."

With a click of his tongue, Sehun quickly pushed himself inside of you. You gasped as he filled you, blissfully stretching your walls in the most perfect way. Never have you had a partner who made you feel this good, made you feel so full. Your eyes shut in pure pleasure as he began to move. His thrusts started off slow but gradually picked up the pace; each movement filled with utmost care. He cradled you as if you were made of porcelain, wanting nothing more than to make you feel as good as possible.

"Christ, (Y/N), you're so fucking tight. So pretty wrapped around my cock."

"Fuck," You felt yourself being brought back to the brink of your orgasm as he continued his languid thrusts inside you. "Sehun, I'm close."

He hummed as his thrusts became sloppier, feeling his own orgasm coming close as well. You opened your eyes to see Sehun's face contorted in pleasure as he moved inside of you. The sight made you come undone, your body clenching around his cock as you felt juts of white-hot pleasure seep from your center to his cock. His movements became sloppier and sloppier before he filled the condom with his own release, grunting loudly at the sensation.

You breathed heavily as you came down from your high. Sehun pulled out of you and stood to dispose of the condom as you relished in what just happened. You turned to see him bringing a box of tissues over to you, almost swooning at the sight.

"Thank you," you hummed as he cleaned you up. He nodded, placing a chaste kiss onto your sweaty forehead before disposing of the tissues. He took your panties and one of his t-shirts from off the floor and handed both articles of clothing to you. You thanked him silently as you pulled the material over your head, relishing in how the shirt smelled just like him.

He climbed into bed after putting on a fresh set of boxers, beckoning you to come closer to him. You sighed in contentment as he cuddled close to you, feeling your eyes close as soon as he wrapped the duvet around the both of you.

#exo #exo scenario #exo scenarios #exo smut #exo fanfic #exo au #oh sehun #sehun #sehun scenario #sehun smut #sehun exo #exo sehun #sehun x reader #sehun x you #exo college au #sehun fanfic #sehun fanfiction #sehun fic

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pl-panda · 4 years

Text

Damienette arranged marriage: part 26

Credits: Miraculous Ladybug team for the elements I take from MLB show. DC for their characters, @ozmav for the AU, @maribat-archive for giving me access to so many different stories to have take inspirations from, @thyladyanput for idea for Chat Damian and me for the plot.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 part 14 part 15

part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21

Part 22 Part 23 Part 24

part 25

Damienette arranged marriage: part 26

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

“Hold still girl if you want to see your friend and yourself walk out of here alive!” Mayura threatened her. To enforce the point made by his partner, Hawkmoth pressed the blade closer, drawing some blood. A single droplet traveled along the edge and hit the floor. The heroine felt her whole body go stiff with fear. She silently accepted her fate when suddenly there was an ear-piercing cry of pain behind her. The blade, together with hand that was holding it, fell to the ground. Hawkmoth stumbled holding the stump that used to be his hand. Behind him Damian wiped the blood from his blade.

“Leave. My Wife. Alone!” He barked and turned to Mayura. “The game is over.”

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Hawkmoth was really glad that his miraculous stopped the bleeding immediately. But at the same time the pain was almost making him see stars. So she married a batbrat…

Mayura immediately let Luka go and rushed to Hawkmoth to help him. She tried to lift him, but she was stopped when a cold blade was pressed to her neck.

“I wouldn’t try it. He will need immediate medical attention once his transformation wears off.” Robin said through the gritted teeth. “Try not to join that list.”

Marinette was still in shock of the events that just occured, but she grabbed her yo-yo and tossed it up. “Miraculous Ladybug!” A swarm of magical energy traveled everywhere around and fixed everything, including Hawkmoth’s hand, but he was still without his weapon while Mayura was at the sword’s pointy end. The heroine walked to the defeated pain. “Gabriel Agreste, Nathalie Sanscoeur, As the Great Guardian of Miraculous I hereby renounce your right to miraculous you have abused.” With that, she plucked their jewels away. The two Kwami were ejected from them and looked at the girl with clear relief. She then turned away to collect other miraculous when suddenly a knife went through her. Adrien was standing there with fury in his eyes.

“You’ve chosen some random american hero over me?! What does he have that I don’t!? You are a monster!” He spat at the girl. He was about to grab her miraculous when a chakram hit him and pushed him back. He stumbled and fell on the ground. Damian was about to rush him and gutter him open, but Nathalie used the distraction to tackle the hero and looked at the blond boy.

“Run! Run and don’t look back!” She shouted and turned back to the wrestle match against Robin. She was winning until other heroes didn’t come at her aid. Adrien grabbed the Butterfly and Peacock miraculous and run as fast as he could. He jumped into the platform and traveled to the underground compound. Spoiler was about to jump after him, but she turned her attention to where Ladybug laid.

Marinette had a knife going through her chest, about right where her heart was. Damian punched Nathalie hard enough for her to get knocked out cold and run to his wife.

“Angel! Can you hear me?!” He held her close.

“Dami…” She was too weak to actually say his full name. “Did… did…”

“You did it angel!” He cried loudly. “Hawkmoth and Mayura are both no more! Everything is going to be fine.”

“I… thank… you…” She managed to spit out. While she was not bleeding, having a pierced heart would still kill her slowly. He also suspected her lungs were damaged given her irregular breath and troubles with speaking.

“Save your strength. The help is on the way I am sure.” He tried to comfort her. The certainty in his voice almost convinced him that it will be okay.

“The t-time… with you…” She had to make a break in the middle of the sentence, but she grabbed his hand tighter. “was best… in my life…” She pressed his hand to her stomach tighter.

“And we will have more time together angel. Don’t leave me! Don’t leave me damn it!” He cried.

Gabriel took advantage of the commotion and tried to sneak away, but the Gorilla stepped in his way. “Nuh Nuh.” He grumbled while shaking his head before he hit his former boss on the head like a whack-a-mole game.

Finally, the transformation surrendered and Tikki was forcefully expelled from the earrings. Blood started to fall from the wound.

“Oh Marinette! I am so sorry! I…” The kwami moaned.

Damian stopped speaking. He just looked at his wife. She was so little, smaller than even him. He contemplated pulling the knife, but it would be pointless.

“Can you… Can you heal her?” Sabine asked the Kwami.

“I don’t know. Oh Marinette!” Small goddess of creation nuzzled into the neck of now passed out girl. The pulse was still there, but it was getting weaker with each passing second.

Damian took off his mask. Screw secrecy! He looked at the girl he came to adore and tightened his grip on his hand. “Don’t leave me habibti. Please don’t do it…” A single tear fell from his eye, mixing with the blood around her heart. Then the next one. And another. He allowed his emotions to surface. He didn’t care who saw what. It was his moment, his wife, his damn business and no one’s else.

Tikki saw the pain and suffering and cursed. Cursed the laws, cursed the balance, cursed her own limitations. She was the most powerful kwami... scratch that, most powerful thing in existence. She created this whole damn world. Marinette was her greatest companion and true friend. She would not watch her Ladybug pass away so young. The Kwami floated above the girl and focused her energy. An orb of white formed around her and she launched it on Marinette. As the energy connected with her, the knife was destroyed and wound closed immediately. There was a flash of green light for just a moment, but it was quenched with another green light that came from where Damian’s tears still remained.

There was also another pulse of energy. This one was much bigger and came from near the ring of Black Cat where Plagg just awoke after he was exhausted. Doing evil was much more tiring for Kwami. And him potentially hurting Tikki like that made the lazy cat pass out for some time. Now he sensed the balance shifting. He acted almost on instinct, but retained enough awareness to change one thing. This pulse hit everyone in the room, but it looked Like Gabriel and Nathalie got the worst of it.

Marinette opened her eyes and graped for air, looking at Damian confused. “W-What… What just happened.”

“You are alive!” He shouted and pulled her in deep hug. She was confused at first, but embraced her husband as well.

“Marinette! You are healed…” Sabine lost her voice. “Thank you Tikki. Thank you so very much. You can have any sweets you want whenever you want!” She shouted before jumping to pull both Damian and Marinette into embrace.

“That is indeed a great news to see Mari-hime well, but what exactly happened.” Kagami asked, voicing what everyone thought.

“I can answer that.” Plagg floated closer to them while carrying his own ring. “When Tikki used her power to heal Marinette, she disturbed the balance. Normally, it would require someone else to surrender his life force to heal her.” It was unlike the Kwami of destruction to speak in such academic tone, but most seemed to ignore this fact for now. “But since she was still alive and I was conscious I instead took some of the life energy from everyone. For next few weeks, maybe months I would advise you to avoid strenuous activities.”

“Since when do you know the word ‘strenuous’ Plagg?” Tikki giggled while looking at the other Kwami.

“I have other interests than eating cheese!” He shouted. “Besides this mogger hid my cheese behind encyclopedia and I read it while eating at night.” He murmured. Tikki would have probably laughed if not the implications behind this. She floated to her companion and pulled him in a hug. There were no words spoken, only the two of them comforting one another after so much things happened in such a short (for a Kwami) time.

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Next week was hard. The defeat of Hawkmoth caused severe backlash. The public swarmed Ladybug wherever she went and questioned her about details. The chaos in the city caused by the news was close to riots. People were overly ecstatic. On the bright side, the school was canceled for the time of celebrations.

Before the heroes managed to turn their attention to Adrien he was long gone. He also wired all the funds from his father’s account somewhere. It was clear that the older Agreste had safety mechanisms in place just in case something like this happened.

Marinette didn’t care. She would later, but for now she was just happy that she could spend some time with Damian. Since the time she almost died, the two were inseparable. Even crowbar would not help here, so back off Jason!

The trip to America came sooner than expected. Marinette’s flight left on Monday, but Damian had to return by Saturday to have everything prepared. She wanted to go with him, but Madame Bustier firmly protested, saying that all students must travel with her because she is class representative and some other utter bullshit (Damian’s words).

Still, the bluenette came to the airport to say goodbye. It was about five in the morning and they were in private longue while waiting for the jet to be ready. Marinette kept forgetting that she was married into the richest family in the world. Then again, she did not care. Damian would mean no less to her if he was broke.

“It’s only two days, but I will miss you” Marinette said to him when the message came that everything was set.

“Me too habibti.” He said while looking into her blueberry eyes.

“I… Thank you. For everything.” She smiled. “If I didn’t meet you, I would probably still be fighting a losing war against Hawkmoth.”

“It was nothing.” He shrugged it off. “I did what I had to. To keep you safe I would do more.” He paused for a moment, taking another look in her beautiful eyes. She also starred back at him, the two whirlpools of emerald were mesmerizing in the morning light. They were really mesmerizing at any time of the day or night. “Marinette… Before I go. There is one more thing I wanted to tell you. The last months I spent with you were amazing.” He forced himself not to close. Damian decided that he would do it today and he would. No matter how embarrassed he was feeling right now. There was only the two of them and he turned all the cameras into loop so his family could not hack them. “For the first time I could really be myself. I am grateful for that.”

Marinette looked at him funny. “Damian? What are you…” She didn’t finish the question because he interrupted her.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng Al Ghoul Wayne. I think I love you. No. I know I love you.” He said with an emotionless expression. It took every bit of his willpower not to run away.

She blinked. Then she blinked again. The weight of this words almost crushed her. Suddenly her legs felt weak. She tried to avoid his gaze while her mind was getting overheated. But then the courage she always showed as Ladybug filled her. She straightened up and looked him deep in his eyes again. “Damian Al Ghoul Wayne… I love you too.” She said. there was a relaxed smile on her face, but the most important part were her eyes. Damian saw only one thing in them. Love. He never saw anything like that before, but he knew that this was love in purest form.

He grabbed her in the waist and looked at her with question. For a moment, she hesitated, understanding where this was going, but then she wrapped her hands around his neck and pulled himself closer. For a moment their faces were just inch apart. This was her last chance to back away. Yet instead, she closed the distance between their lips.

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THE END

KONIEC

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Taglist (sorry if I missed you)@pheonixashtree @sassakitty @unabashedbookworm @vixen-uchiha @maggiecc12 @actualdisasterwoman @tired-butterfly @shizukiryuu @floralfi @imanerddealwith @northernbluetongue @krispydefendorpolice @toodaloo-kangaroo @dast218 @bluesoulblueheart @theatreandcomicfreak @disneyfoxuniverse @mindfulmagics @alwaysnumberonetruth @nyaabinch @jardimazul @lenamau @rosep16 @dramatic-squirrel @sonif50 @daminett4life @lulutheawkwardess @weird-pale-blonde-person @mooshoon @jeminiikrystal @mochegato @moonlightstar64 @dragonflyswing @silverwhiteraven @shamefullove @magic-miraculous @valeks-princess @heaven428 @mlbchaosqueen @winter-gardenflower @spicybelladonna @emo-elaine13 @vetilora @karukofox21 @my-name-is-michell @sturchling @lokiifriggasonn @redscarlet95 @melicmusicmagic @interobanginyourmom @the-fusionist @razzledazzle247 @miss-mysterys-blog @darkthunder1589 @i-is-mysterious @catthhay @the-one-woman-army @zestyzealot @dahjokester @write-for-your-life2 @mermaidreject @peachedpocky @sassakitty @dahjokester @crazylittlemunchkin @novicevoice @justafanwarrior @eliza-bitch @schrodingers25 @tired-butterfly @toodaloo-kangaroo @redscarlet95 @miukiiu @sassakitty @corabeth11 @vixen-uchiha @lilypos03

#miraculous lb #miraculous ladybug #Miraculous!Sabine #fanfiction #fanfic #tiger miraculous #Superhero!Sabine #maribat #maribat au #marinette x damian #arranged marriage au #maridami #damienette #batman #mlb #league of assassins #order of the guardians #mlb x dc

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eurynome827 · 5 years

Text

Anniversary: Scenes From A Staycation

A Honey & Salt Story

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader

Word Count: 1474

Warnings: language, vague fluffersmut, a surprising amount of maybe angst?

Summary: It’s been a year.

*This series is fiction - I do not know this man and this is an alternate universe RPF with no basis in fact.*

When you two first met, it was just a fun fact. Your birthdays were exactly two weeks apart.

As you grew closer - even granting each other the coveted title "best friend"- the halfway point became the day you celebrated. He would try to be in town, you would take off, if it was around a weekend it became "Birthday Weekend".

This year Birthday Weekend had an unnatural tension attached to it.

Last year's Birthday Weekend had been ...eventful. Now this wasn't just the latest in a series of times between best friends.

Now, it was an Anniversary.

One Month Before

"Are you sure this is what you want? You don't want to do something more special?"

"Excuse me, pal, last year we spent Birthday Weekend in your apartment. A beach house isn't special enough?"

"Last year's Birthday Weekend DID work out well..."

You could almost hear his raised eyebrows over the phone, just as you were sure he could hear your eyeroll.

Details were set, you swore you'd make all the arrangements if he could guarantee he'd be home on time. Birthday Weekend in a beach house on Fire Island. Staycation.

Then the chatter started.

Your friends. Your parents. Your mutual friends - Evans on the phone, grateful you couldn't punch him over FaceTime. "Think he's got something SPECIAL planned?"

"Can you shut the fuck up for two seconds?" You huffed in reply. "Considering it was my idea to rent the house, and he thought it wasn't 'special' enough, no I don't think so."

"Not special enough, huh?" Evans smirked.

"I hate you."

Friday

You arrived on the first morning ferry, getting the key for the house from the rental office and pulling the wagon with the week's supplies behind you the three blocks down to your ocean view house. It was perfect, with a porch facing the sea and a walk straight down to the beach. After getting everything settled you changed into your bathing suit and had a mimosa on the porch before throwing on your cover-up to walk to the dock for the afternoon ferry's arrival.

When Sebastian arrived on the ferry you were waiting, a rocket fuel in each hand.

"Don't spill the drinks!" You admonished, giggling as he swept you up.

"Happy Birthday Weekend," he whispered in your ear.

He set you down, and you kissed him quickly, not wanting to make a scene on the dock. It had been a year of skating by on the past reputation of "best friends" and it was a miracle you'd stayed under wraps.

"Here you loon," you grinned up at him as you handed him his drink, leading the way down the path. "Happy Birthday Weekend. Welcome to paradise."

Friday Evening

"Accept the fact that the pizza is overpriced. Everything has to be delivered by boat here, it comes at a premium."

"I didn't complain once," he handed you another beer and opened his own, settling on the porch swing and looking over at you warily. "You alright? You're very on edge."

"NOT on edge." You took a long swallow. "We have to get pizza tonight, it's tradition. Tomorrow we can go out or we can cook, whatever you want."

"Probably better to stay in," he answered and the unspoken words were there again. Don't get recognized. Don't get your picture taken alone in the restaurant without the life jacket of your friends surrounding you - have someone tweet it and then Birthday Weekend becomes the publicity stunt heard round the world.

You looked at him, and something about his eyes - the sun low in the sky, the sound of the ocean - and a grateful wave washed over you. "I'm so happy we're here. I missed you."

He pulled you into his lap. "Nowhere else I'd rather be."

You got the pizza and ate on the porch, the sound of the waves in your ears long after the sun has set low enough and the view past the porch rail is a long dark punctuated only by the lighthouse and the pinpricks of bright stars.

Jet lag forced him to bed early, and you cuddle next to him, as always seeking out the heat of his skin against yours and relishing in the promise of what's to come when he wakes up.

Saturday Morning

You're not sure what wakes you - the screaming sea gull on the roof or Sebastian's lips on your inner thigh.

"Finally," you tease, voice husky from sleep and his own chuckle in response warms your heart.

He's already taken you apart twice before he kisses back up your body till he reaches your neck and he holds you tight and rolls you over on top. There's never time needed to be reacquainted. You've memorized each other a million times over but it's still so good, so new, so perfect.

Except for trips to the bathroom and to the kitchen for coffee, you're in the bed until early afternoon.

Saturday Afternoon

After a small breakfast on the porch, you both set up in the sand a stone's throw from the house, away from the beachgoers clustered at the shore. It's not as busy on this stretch of the beach anyway, as the day trippers tend to stay in groups around the lifeguard stations. Here it's just the other renters, and you're not as worried on the few trips down to the water you both take to cool off.

It's quiet, and peaceful, and exactly what you wanted.

Then you go and ruin it all.

Saturday Evening

Mindful of his training, you'd brought chicken and vegetables to cook for Saturday, trying to at least be creative in your seasoning. He'd already strayed enough with the pizza and all the drinking - but it's Birthday Weekend.

He set the table and you poured the wine before you both sat down. Everything was great until he pulled a ring box out of his pocket and placed it on the table.

The words were out before you could stop them.

"I don't want to get married."

He looked at you, expressionless. "Okay."

"Fuck - I can't believe this. Everyone tried to hype me up for this and I thought you would never in a million years do this. You don't want to get married either! You've always said that."

"Babe -" he reached out for you, and you stood up so fast you knocked over your chair.

"Even fucking EVANS told me and I told him to shut the fuck up. I can't believe this."

"Hey!" He raised his voice, and you stopped babbling. "I'm not proposing. Open the box."

You picked it up with shaking hands and opened it.

"It's our birthstone. Oh, honey. It's beautiful."

"I don't care which finger you put it on, but you seem really concerned about that." He looked up at you, biting his lip - and not in a fun way.

"I ruined it." Your face crumpled and you barely registered him pulling you into his lap. "I ruined Birthday Weekend. Everyone got in my head."

He wrapped his arms around you. "Babe. You didn't ruin anything. But we should talk."

Late Saturday Night

Hours after eating, lots more wine, and a very uncharacteristically serious discussion later and the two of you were finally in bed.

It was almost laughable how two people who felt so similar about things could find it so difficult to tell the other person. For a year everything had worked so well. "Maybe we were just due for it," you murmured as his lips trailed across your neck.

"For what?"

"A big serious discussion. Can't have fun all the time."

He raised his head and looked you in the eyes. "Watch me."

You shook him awake, feeling only a little guilty at the lack of sleep. He groaned and pulled you closer but you pushed away with a giggle.

Sunday At Sunrise

"Seb."

"Let's watch the sun rise."

He made an unintelligible noise.

"Come on, babe."

"Okay. Then bed."

You dragged him out to the porch and faced the east. Wrapped in a blanket together in the morning chill, the sun's sudden appearance rising over the Atlantic took your breath away.

"Yeah, that was worth getting out of bed for," he admitted, and started to wrap his arms around you tighter but you turned to face him.

"I love you."

He squeezed your waist. "I know you do."

"No, I mean it. I really love you. I don't care what anyone says, I don't care if the whole world knows, I am who I truly am right now with you. That's all that matters."

His eyes were soft and as blue as the ocean in the new sunlight. "You love me, huh?"

You pulled him as close to you as you could. "You know I do."

#honey and salt #anniversary: scenes from a staycation #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan fanfiction

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burningred92 · 4 years

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The Short Love Story Of Jake Gyllenhaal and Taylor Swift

Taylor and Jake were first seen together publicly in late October 2010. A source told Us Weekly: "The relationship is very new, maybe two or three weeks old. They’re both into it." Gyllenhaal was said to have initiated the relationship, emailing Swift to tell her of his admiration for her talent.

Apple picking in upstate New York

They were spotted at the Fishkill Farms in Hopewell Junction, N.Y on October 23, where they toured fall foliage and went apple-picking. An onlooker told Us Weekly: "They were walking through the trees, having fun together. They looked happy. Some of the customers tried to take a photo of them, but they were hiding from them in the trees. They drove through the orchard and bought the apples on the way out." Gyllenhaal, 29, paid the $3 tab.

In the audience of Emma Stone's SNL episode

Later that evening, the pair attended the broadcast of Saturday Night Live in Manhattan, which was hosted by Swift's good friend, Emma Stone. According to a PEOPLE source, "They showed up together. They walked around together backstage, but they were careful not to be seen too close. It was hard to tell if they were together, but everyone was shocked that she brought him." Meanwhile, an eyewitness told Us Weekly: "Swift initially sat down with her bodyguard, but after the lights dimmed, he got up and Gyllenhaal occupied the seat. They chatted a lot, but no kissing or hand holding or anything affectionate." Sources at SNL told Lainey Gossip: "She was totally into him. They were close the whole time, and awkwardly cute-flirting, some undercover handholding ... It was more than just friends." Added Lainey: "As you can imagine, she was beyond delirious. I’m told she looked like she was dreaming while she was there. And they left together."

Brooklyn brunch with friends including Emma Stone

On Sunday October 24, Swift, 20 and Gyllenhaal, 29, brunched with Emma Stone and another guest at Al Di La in Brooklyn and, said a Us Weekly source, looked "friendly." According to E! Online's Ted Casablanca: "They sat side-by-side the whole time. Taylor, who was sporting some heavy makeup and looking rather stiff and uncomfortable in the Brooklyn hot spot, managed to throw in a few smiles and laughs. Jake played the cool, older guy as he chatted with the waiters and couldn't stop smiling. Plus, our sources say he was looking super hot and proud of himself in his classic V-neck and sleek aviators." They were also spotted together strolling around Brooklyn's Park Slope neighbourhood.

Jake meets Taylor's mother

On October 25, Gyllenhaal accompanied Swift to a taping of an NBC Thanksgiving special. He spent time in Swift's dressing room with the singer and her mother.

Weekend break in Big Sur and Santa Barbara, California

From October 29 to November 1 the couple stayed at the exclusive Post Ranch Inn in Big Sur, California. According to PEOPLE, "they spent most of their time in their room - the most expensive one in the hotel, with a fireplace and ocean view-they did step out for a romantic dinner at Sierra Mar. They were very cute. They looked happy." An onlooker told Lainey Gossip that the couple "were seen together over breakfast and also by the pool. Swifty was wearing a beret. There was some handholding and their arms were around each other and she was touching his hair and getting lost in his cute ass amazing face." Us Weekly's witness saw the couple at the hotel's pool: "Taylor laughed at everything Jake said. At one point, she measured herself against Jake on her tiptoes." (An observer added that Gyllenhaal "held her hand.") Late on Monday November 1, the couple arrived in Santa Barbara, stopping for ice cream upon arrival. They came in [Monday]," an employee of McConnell's Ice Cream told E! Online. "There were young customers in here, and our girls who worked here are young and they recognized them right away. Everyone was excited and asked to take pictures with them, which they obliged to do. Taylor got a suggestion from one of our workers. They were very nice and seemed comfortable around each other. They weren't lovey-dovey though." Us Weekly reported: ""They looked at all the flavors and couldn't decide, so they asked the counter girls for help," a staffer says of the duo, who were "happy" and "friendly." "Taylor was very interested in what I was doing in the back making ice cream and said, 'Wow, you guys are legit!'" Their ice cream picks, which Gyllenhaal paid for: Swiss chocolate chip for him, yogurt with rainbow sprinkles for her. After savoring their treats inside McConnell's for about 20 minutes, the pair split. When they were approached by excited college-age fans in the parking lot, they "happily obliged" for photos. "They smiled a ton!"

Minibreak in London; dinner at the Paltrow-Martins

On November 11, Swift jetted from Nashville to London and promptly holed up at the five-star Dorchester Hotel. Gyllenhaal, in town to promote Love and Other Drugs, was staying at the same hotel. Said a Us Weekly source: “It was a secret. Taylor came early to be with Jake [before her promotional duties.] It was a love-in!” The tryst marked the fourth weekend in a row they spent together. According to Us Weekly, Swift’s arrival in London was so stealth even members of her own camp hadn’t heard about the last-minute itinerary change. Neither ventured outside the luxe hotel, and on November 12, Swift ordered in Chinese food. “It was enough for two or three people!” says a hotel source. Not even staffers caught a glimpse of them together before Gyllenhaal left for NYC November 13 (Swift flew to Japan the next day). But the romance is definitely heating up. “He’s crushing on her,” said a Gyllenhaal source. And Swift, said an insider, is “excited. She wants it to be official.” During the trip, the pair "were driven from the Dorchester Hotel to Gwyneth and Chris Martin's house in Primrose Hill for dinner. Gwyneth seems to have played a role in their relationship." When USA Today later asked Paltrow about the intimate gathering with Gyllenhaal, 30, and Swift, 21, the actress initially tried to play coy. "Where is this coming from?" she asked, adding that she's "scared to say" much about the couple's blossoming romance. "It's so weird. I wonder how people find out these things. It was a while ago, so I don't know why it would come out today. I've just known Jake for a long time and he's a great guy, and Chris has a friendship with Taylor."

Thanksgiving with Jake at his sister's house in Brooklyn

On November 25, Swift celebrated Thanksgiving with Gyllenhaal's extended family in Brooklyn, New York. Around 10:30 a.m., the pair popped into Park Slope's Gorilla Coffee for specialty maple lattes, made with pure Vermont syrup. "They were really sweet, really really sweet," said a source at the shop, adding that the duo also tipped well. "Taylor sipped Jake's maple lattee to try it and was giggling a lot. She looked like a high school girl in love for the first time. Jake was smiling at her the whole time. It was kind of sweet to watch. Jake is usually not chatty when he comes in, but with Taylor he was talking and laughing the entire time." They then stopped off at Union Market for last-minute Thanksgiving supplies. An onlooker said they were like "love-struck teens ... They seemed very comfortable together." A source told Us Weekly that Swift arrived in New York on Thanksgiving eve: "Jake invited her to New York for Thanksgiving. It wasn't planned in advance, but she said, 'Why not? I can do it, and I'm going.' Her parents weren't thrilled, but she explained to them that she gets to see them all the time and wasn't able to spend much time with Jake during the publicity madness. She loves his family and he loves hers. There was no diva behavior. She pitched in to cook and to clear the dishes. She also seemed very interested in the family and asked them a lot of questions about themselves."

Visiting Taylor's extended family in St. Louis, Missouri

The couple then travelled to St. Louis on Taylor's private jet to spend time with her extended family. Before Thanksgiving, Swift had told reporters she planned to spend the holiday in St Louis: "I have a big family there and most of them are women so we'll all crowd in the kitchen and make things and tell stories and laugh. It's a good time."

Jake spends time in Nashville

On November 27, the couple resurfaced in Swift's adopted hometown of Nashville, where they were spotted getting a late breakfast at Fido. "They were smiling and laughing. They were talking a lot and enjoying each other's company," a diner named Elaina Mishu told PEOPLE. "They didn't look like friends." Customer Emma Rice, who snapped a photo of the pair, called the duo "very cute" and said, "They seemed close. They were not trying to be discreet by any means. They were definitely a couple. They looked very happy." Later that day, they visited the Gaylord Opryland to look at the Christmas decorations and the Garden Conservatory. "She stayed close to him the entire time," an eyewitness told Us Weekly. That night, Gyllenhaal was spotted making a solo Whole Foods run. On November 29, they dined at Crema in Nashville. "They ordered two coffees at the counter. When they sat down, they stayed very close to one another and held hands for a second. They were just sitting there for about half an hour in really deep conversation. And when they were leaving, Taylor cleaned up the mess on the table. She seemed very nice!"

On November 30, they stopped by Nashville's Frothy Monkey for coffee, with a source telling TMZ that the couple had visited the cafe for "several" consecutive mornings. An onlooker told Us Weekly: "She had her arm around his, and when they left they were holding hands." That night, they stopped by CityHouse for dinner.

Taylor visits Jake in LA; Jake calls cops on paparazzi

As soon as she landed in L.A. in a private jet on December 8, Swift hightailed it to Gyllenhaal's Hollywood Hills home. The next day, the pair were spotted out on afternoon drive around town. As Gyllenhaal navigated his Audi, he also made an effort to amuse his date. "Jake and Taylor seemed to be catching up and were chatting nonstop in the car," an onlooker told PEOPLE. "Jake was making Taylor laugh and she looked very happy." However, later that afternoon, an angry Gyllenhaal called the police because of the paparazzi's dangerous driving. The couple was being followed while driving through a residential neighborhood in Beverly Hills. “This was scary,” a source close to Gyllenhaal told Gossip Cop. “This was not about a celebrity saying, ‘Don’t follow me,’” said the insider, adding that Gyllenhaal and Swift “felt they were in jeopardy.” But it wasn’t just Swift’s safety and his own that Gyllenhaal was concerned about. “There were people on the sidewalk, families” in the neighborhood who could have potentially been injured. “It was really dangerous,” reiterated the source, who said the police stopped six paparazzi cars that were right on Gyllenhaal’s car. Unfortunately, after Gyllenhaal drove on, there were four more paparazzi cars – out of the police’s view – who still followed the couple.

Swift and Gyllenhaal were both spotted wearing pink plastic bracelets during the period, with Gyllenhaal revealing in an interview that it had been given to him by his niece, Ramona.

Gyllenhaal was also photographed wearing a scarf, identical to one previously worn by Swift

Split announced in January 2011

News of a split broke in early January 2011. "Jake reached out to her and started all of this, but now he’s not acting as interested,” a source explained to Us Weekly about the breakup, which reportedly occurred right before New Year’s. “He said he wasn’t feeling it anymore and was uncomfortable with all the attention they got. Taylor is really upset. We told her not to move so fast with this, but she didn’t listen.” “Jake cares about her, but [the publicity] was a lot for him,” the source said. “He wants to keep his private life private, and that’s hard to do dating Taylor. Jake just told her it wasn't working out. Taylor is really upset and hurt. She doesn't know what she did for him to put a stop to it. She feels really burned by him."

Jake visits Taylor in Nashville

On January 19, Swift and Gyllenhaal arrived quietly together at Bound'ry, a restaurant near Swift's Nashville condo, and were led back to a table for two, according to another patron. "They did eat," the patron told PEOPLE. "They were cordial to one another, but not affectionate." And another source told PEOPLE that they seemed friendly. "There was no holding hands, but they seemed happy together," the source says. "They sat next to the fireplace just chatting away."

Intense discussion at Vanity Fair Oscar party

On February 27, Swift attended the Vanity Fair Oscar party with pals Emma Stone and Ashley Avignone. During the event, Swift and Gyllenhaal were seen "outside near the restroom having a discussion. It seemed a bit more serious – it certainly wasn't a 'Hi, how are you?' talk. It seemed like they were catching up, sorting something out." A Washington Post reporter seated near Gyllenhaal and Swift remarked: ""Gyllenhaal is using words like 'care' and 'feel'. It is not a good spot to linger."

In late 2013, Swift shared: “I heard from the guy that most of 'Red' is about. He was like, ‘I just listened to the album, and that was a really bittersweet experience for me. It was like going through a photo album.’ That was nice." Maggie Gyllenhaal was asked in another 2013 interview if her brother was the subject of 'Red': "Y’know, I have no information on whether that’s happened or not but I think it’s kind of amazing to have a big pop song written about you, right?! As far as I know, nobody’s written any about me!"

#jake gyllenhaal #taylor swift #taylorswift13 #taylorswiftnation #taylorswift #tswift #Swifties #ts #tsw #red album #lovestory #couple #2010s

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abdifarah · 6 years

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Hotel Pennsylvania

Central Pennsylvania is weird. Homeowners string confederates flags as nonchalantly as Christmas lights. My mom, who moved to Central Pennsylvania against my protests, lives about ten miles from Spring Grove, PA, which we have to drive through whenever we visit my Aunt Darlene and Uncle Kenny right below the Pennsylvania–Maryland line. Spring Grove is a cruel joke of a name as the town perpetually smells of rancid cabbage. The smell emanates from the Glatfelter Paper Mill at the heart of the town. All the shops and services in the town either bear the Glatfelter name or use some corny paper pun in their signage. The old brick row homes that line Main Street have porches but no one sits on them. If you do see someone on the street they have an exhausted expression well beyond their years, perhaps from too many cigarettes, or possibly from years of hopelessly working at the paper mill. A cloud – both literal and spiritual – hangs over Spring Grove.

But there is another kind of small town in Central Pennsylvania. All the companies in this town are higher tech with little pollution to diffuse the sun. Power washed brick houses with immaculately manicured lawns line the small streets of Lititz, Pennsylvania. Voted the Best Small Town in America by AARP, every block has either an ice cream stand, or a guitar shop, or a quaint bed and breakfast. On any summer afternoon the sidewalks and streets are filled with happy people. Kids in their bathing suits weave through older pedestrians on Razor scooters. Fit and fresh faced adults in Tevas and Birkenstocks walk dogs, and still active older couples in Brooks Brothers hold hands while taking an evening stroll. It's the kind of town that takes the Fourth of July very seriously. Year round every house has the same 4 x 6 foot American flag fixed at the same 45 degree angle from a post of the white painted porches that wrap each facade, so as to clear up any confusion with one’s neighbor. “Oh, you’re American? I’m American too! What are the chances?” But around the Fourth somehow more American flags appear. They break out those pleated half-circle numbers with the concentric red, white, and blue ring with the star in the middle, and drape them over their porch railings. Little old ladies plant entire fields of miniature flags in public green spaces, in memory of fallen soldiers. (When exactly did the 4th of July merge with Memorial Day? Let there be no question, Lititz, Pennsylvania loves the troops. In Lititz the 4th alone cannot contain the fireworks, but anytime for about a week before and after you can expect to hear a random boom and see a starburst of red white or blue sparks in the sky.

Unlike Spring Grove, Lititz is thriving, bolstered by a constellation of steady companies offering both good paying blue collar work as well as more tech driven white collar jobs. There is a Rolex factory here. Lititz is what I assume Trump supporters envision when they pray Make America Great Again. Surprisingly, despite the overt patriotism and trappings of Americana, Lititz is not Trump Country. The cute coffee shops and overpriced bistros are populated by salt and pepper haired businessmen pissed that Trump’s steel tariffs are cutting into the bottom line, as well as woke college kids home for summer break shedding genuine tears over the separation of immigrant families at the border. Turns out a lot of white folks despise Trump as much if not more than us various minorities.

Despite the friendly faces and preponderance of liberal allies, my skin still crawls in this still uber-white small town. I am usually the only brown person in sight and while the eyes are kind I do feel all eyes on me wherever I go. I imagine walking into a dark divey bar in depressed Spring Grove and the proverbial record screeches and some grisled bartender asks acerbically, “What are you doing here!?” In Lititz the look on peoples’ faces asks the same “What are you doing here?” without the coldness, but rather with concern or surprise, as if to ask “Are you lost?” “How did you stumble upon our white oasis?” I come to Lititz regularly for work as a subcontractor for one of the big companies fueling the prosperity of Lititz, a company called Tait Towers. Most people will never hear about Tait Towers but they are ubiquitous. If you have gone to a big arena concert in the last 30 years you have seen their work, as they are the foremost supplier of decking and stage equipment for rock and pop concert tours. Anything sleek and shiny and automated that adorned the stage of that last concert you attended was probably Tait. I get called in when they are working on something a little weirder, handmade, idiosyncratic. Over the years assisting Tait’s in-house Scenic Department, we have built a gold vinyl wrapped tiger and lion for Katy Perry, sculpted a 30 foot jungle Tree for Britney Spears, and created an ice crystal themed stage for Lady Gaga. Turns out the ladies of pop like hand made props to counteract their synthesized sound, for which me and my bank account are grateful. It's not the most avantgarde work, but the pay is decent. They put me up in hotel while I am there. For a while I had Hilton Diamond Status after a particularly long five month stay designing and building an inflatable tree for Cirque du Soleil’s Avatar themed show, Toruk. Strangely, I get asked to make a lot of trees.

This past Saturday I was leaving the local laundromat. My hotel has a washer and dryer but I still jump at any opportunity show my black face in town and mix it up with the townspeople. However awkward, I am a glutton for punishment. As I was turning the corner out of the laundromat parking lot I almost shocked myself into an accident as I witnessed a Chinese family on their porch within a row of houses. Where had these people been during those homogeneous 4th of July celebrations or during those awkward evenings I spent at the bar of the Bull’s Head, a local tavern? I suspected that there was a whole unseen community of minorities in Lititz. I remembered the handful of other black and brown people that worked at Tait. Why had I not seen this more diverse crowd during my daily coffee runs to the local bakery, Dosie Dough, or out walking their dogs or playing with their children in the evening? It seemed that the other people of color went to work, did their job, and immediately jetted home as soon as the day was done. Also, a lot of them probably chose to forego small town living in favor of the more urban Lancaster, Pennsylvania about seven miles south of Lititz.

After a few weeks in Lititz, I too found myself retreating to my hotel room after the work day. Should I go out for dinner for a little more ambiance or grab a drink at the bar with its potential for conversation. The pessimistic belief that I would be the only black person and the sole vessel to absorb the awkward stares proved exhausting. I would instead microwave an Amy’s Mexican casserole bowl for dinner and catch up on the last season of The Americans. At some point myself and the other people of color of Lititz made an unspoken pact with the white people of this sleepy town that we would do our jobs and go home immediately in order to perpetuate the belief that this was one of those ideal small towns, the kind that could be voted Best Small Town in America. When I imagine the best small town in America sadly I do not see a Chinese family, black welders, or even myself.

After years of coming to work with Tait I can confidently say that I hate classic rock. Tait is all about classic rock. The founder, Michael Tait, an Australian expat, got his start building stages for the band Yes in the 60’s. As an independent artist, my short stints with Tait represent my only times working in a real workplace with set hours. For years the shop was haunted by an omnipresent Muzak system that played classic rock incessantly. Everyday at around 4pm the Eagles’ “Hotel California”, a song written by Satan himself, would torment us. Working 10 to 12 to 14 hour days to meet a deadline, 4 o’ clock was our witching hour; too late in the day to bring any new energy or insights to the project, much too early to begin cleaning up for the day. The lyrics, “You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave” taunted me, less because of their spot on description of my current predicament but more because they’re just stupid. Hearing the same “classic” songs day after day I realized the utter mediocrity of classic rock as whole. Just competently melodic enough to be easy to listen to, unlike say punk or metal (both far superior). Lyrically the stories ranged from completely meaningless, to embarrassingly infantile, to undeniably problematic. Somehow we decided that this was the American music, over jazz, blues, funk, and r&b. Classic rock will be playing on the space shuttle we board after we successfully destroy earth and it will be playing on whatever outpost we establish on the faraway planet we colonize.

Currently, I am working on a set of nine sculptures of Elton John that will array the proscenium arch above the stage for his upcoming tour. Overall, I enjoy this work. At least it is not another tree. And as far as pop music goes I dig Elton John’s music more than some of the other pop stars for whom I have made art. However, at the end of a long day sculpting his strange bulbous nose and thin lips for the seventh, eighth or ninth time I begin to sour a bit on Sir Elton. Elton John is 73 years old (probably older since, like most performers, I assume he gave a younger age when he started out) and we are building a stage for him for a projected three year tour that will net him millions of dollars. How many black artists or other musicians of color are still relevant and can sell out arenas into their 60’s and 70’s? Maybe Stevie Wonder? I can easily name 20 white (male) musicians. We already mentioned Elton John; how about Billy Joel, Bob Dylan, Paul McCartney, Bruce Springsteen, Paul Simon, The Rolling Stones, The Eagles, The Who, Lynyrd Skynyrd, Bon Jovi, Eric Clapton, Rod Stewart, Aerosmith, Sting, Ozzy Osbourne, Jimmy Buffett? I can keep going. Were these giants of rock undeniably better than their female contemporaries or artists of color working at the same time so as to secure an undying career into infinity?

I read in an article years ago detailing some of the financial troubles of T-Boz and Chilli of TLC, that they did not have much money coming in outside of the $1200 royalty check they received monthly. TLC was a group notoriously mistreated and shortchanged by their management and record labels yet they still had $1200 a month in royalties arriving like clockwork. I can barely begin to fathom what a group like the Rolling Stones receives in regular royalties. At any moment a Rolling Stones song plays somewhere on this blue planet. I hypothesize that the proliferation of classic rock around the world may be the biggest form of white welfare. According to the website, Inside Philanthropy, Jimmy Buffett is worth $550 million. He has one terrible song that he has somehow parlayed into a fortune! He is then free to spread that money among various causes or toward organizations like the NRA. Or take rock and roll’s running joke that the Rolling Stones, despite their hard living are somehow, immortal. While humorous and perplexing we all know the reason for these artist’s longevity. Being wanted, having work to do, being asked to perform, and the monetary and emotional support they afford sustains one’s life. I cannot help but feel that the melancholy that we collectively share when a giant of black music dies – Prince a few years back and Aretha Franklin most recently – stems from the understanding that despite their great fame and success their talent deserved more. They deserved Rolling Stones level treatment. Is there a better rock and roll song that Franklin’s “Respect” or “Chain of Fools?” I should have been in Lititz making nine life-size sculptures of Aretha Franklin and not Elton John.

The last time I arrived at Tait to work on a project I noticed the absence of the Muzak system. Every department now controlled their own music. Sometimes someone plays from their Spotify or Apple Music or we just put on the radio. Much to my chagrin and confusion, somehow the Freddy Kruger of classic rock continues to haunt me even with my mostly young coworkers choosing the music. Someone will mindlessly put on the “Beatles Radio” on Pandora, or WXPN, a Philly radio station, will have a “Throwback Thursday” traversing the entire discography of the Rolling Stones. One day during WXPN’s regular offerings (usually a mix of new rock with a few eclectic curve balls thrown every now and then) Childish Gambino AKA Donald Glover’s “This is America” came on (I too am surprised by the ubiquity of this song as I viewed it less as something to casually listen to and more as the multi-level artwork that I was initially presented with through its graphic video. But alas, the song bumps). Almost instinctively, without prompt, fanfare, or commotion one of my coworkers changed the channel. After hours of absorbing banal rock something mysterious sparked a station change. I tried to put this incident out of my mind. Soon after someone put on an Itunes 80’s playlist. Somehow 80’s music has come to mean “White 80’s”; Culture Club, Billy Idol, and all that other Breakfast Club, Top Gun, Say Anything music, completely omitting black acts, save titans like Michael Jackson and Prince. Surprisingly, a Janet Jackson song slipped onto this mostly vanilla playlist, but almost as soon as I started bouncing my shoulders and popping my neck along with Jackson’s “Pleasure Principle” someone calmly put down their tools, walked to the computer and skipped to the next song!

I work with genuinely good people. The same liberal minded white people that I would overhear furiously denouncing Trump in the coffee shop. But there was something unconsciously disturbing about a black voice coming out of the office speakers, and conversely something calming and reassuring about A-Ha’s “Take On Me,” which restored the stasis after Janet’s interruption. Was the promulgation of classic rock and other culturally white genres part of some conspiracy to entrench whiteness as the default and everything else an aberration? The truth was probably less insidious and more banal, but no less effective. Sometimes I’ll muster the courage to take over DJ duties and I will attempt to put on a more colorful station or playlist, but even I find myself squirming with embarrassment if a particular black song plays. I am conscious that, unlike those classic rock songs that we all know to the point of no longer hearing them, every word of an unfamiliar song from an unfamiliar voice conspicuously grabs the attention and appears in bold text before ones eyes, complete with a bouncing ball keeping place. This can become awkward when, say, Adina Howard’s “Freak Like Me” comes on during a 90’s Jams Playlist. I want a freak in the morning/ A freak in the evening, just like me/ I need a roughneck nigga/ That can satisfy me. Why should a song that boldly expresses black female sexuality be awkward for me? I listen to plenty of songs all day that foreground white male sexuality: AC/DC’s “You Shook Me All Night Long” or Rod Stewart’s “Da Ya Think I’m Sexy.” Or why should a rap song with explicit lyrics put the room in a frenzy? Eric Clapton literally has a song called, “Cocaine.”

White supremacy resides not only within the purview of avowed white supremacists; that resident of Spring Grove or Dover with truck nuts hanging off his gun metal grey Ford Raptor with the giant confederate flag waving. We are all complicit. The MAGA white supremacist is not the only one lying to themselves about America’s past. The liberal resident of Lititz is as well. So am I. Somewhere we all believed the wonderfully illustrative mid-century American propaganda that America was a white family behind a white picket fence and that everyone else is just borrowing space, when in reality people from all ethnic backgrounds have shared this country since day one. And to be more factual there was a time on this land mass before white people; before genocide, theft, and slavery. Us people of color need to combat this as well. We may be mathematical minorities, but we are not new here. We are not the cousin crashing on the couch, lying awake and hungry, afraid to go to the kitchen and make food, so as not to disturb the owners of the house. We need to not be ashamed of our music, our existence. We need to show up and be seen; at those corny 4th of July celebrations and especially at the voting booth, reminding all onlookers that we are just as American. Only then might we all imagine a more diverse picture when we think of the Best Small Town in America, and only then might I be freed from the hell of “Hotel California” playing on my radio into eternity.

#music #aretha franklin #elton john #pennsylvania #america #rocknroll

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despairingvacation · 6 years

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WHEN YOU WISH UPON A STAR...

It’s sudden, getting the letter in the mail. For a moment, you have to think that maybe you’re getting expelled, because they found out that you were the one behind that incident that happened... But, as you peel off the wax seal and open up the envelope, you suddenly find confetti hitting your face in a colorful stream.

After a few moments of spitting out sparkly plastic and picking rainbow colored pieces out of your hair, you finally take out the neatly folded paper within, smoothing it out to finally read the graceful text:

Hey, you!

Yes, you!

First off, we would like to congratulate you on being accepted to Hope’s Peak Academy! Our school prides itself on picking out the best of the best, and we are very glad to inform you that you are one of the miracles that we have been searching for.

Miracles must be celebrated, of course, and it it is with that in mind that we are quite happy to inform you that you have been chosen on a special, one of a kind summer vacation to Disneyland! You, along with 25 other students have been randomly chosen for this two week trip to every child’s biggest dream.

Enclosed you will find a plane ticket scheduled for the end of the week; you will be flown down to this world of milk and honey along with all of the other winners of this lottery. What better way to get ready for school than a bit of relaxation and quality time with other attendants of the school? Absolutely everything has been covered financially: the only thing that you need to do is pack and show up on time.

We hope that you enjoy this trip that the school has brought together just for you. Rest easy and remember: You are the miracle we have been waiting for.

Have a good vacation!

-- Administration team of H.P.A

True to it’s word, the envelope also contains a plane ticket: first class! How rich is this school, even? You knew that getting in would guarantee some smooth sailing, but never did you expect that you’d get your own 100% covered break right when you got accepted. There’s so much to be excited about! Who else will be there? Will you be able to shake the real Mickey Mouse’s hand? Can you finally live your dream of eating an excessive amount of overpriced food that you don’t have to pay for?

You keep these all in mind as you look outside the window, seeing clouds fly by that big blue sky, and you wonder how much longer it’ll be until you get there. You can hardly wait-- talking with your newfound friends and having plane-peanut eating contests is fun and all, but you’re eager to hit the haunted house after a shuttle trip, an exhausting walk to the hotel, and a jet lagged nap.

Waking up, you see that the sky is dark, but the park is bright as day with shining lights and whirring machines. Does this place ever sleep?

Time to get some fresh clothes on and find out!

Welcome to Despairing Vacation 2′s PROLOGUE! This is intended to last from today (May 24th) to next Saturday (June 2nd)! There are a few rules that we need to establish, so read carefully!

Your muses do not know that their memories have been wiped. What knowledge they have now is that they received their HPA acceptance letter, and have also won a trip to Disneyland.

That being said, they don’t know that this is intended to become a killing game in time either! The prologue is intended as an opportunity for you to meet your fellow classmates and develop some relationships before we drop the bomb on you. :)

You do not have your Student IDs yet! They will be given out later, in a future announcement. If you wanna know who someone is, you gotta ask them.

Roleplaying is allowed on both Tumblr and Discord, with a focus on the latter.

Go out there and have a good time! There’s no murder in Hope’s Peak Academy.

#dv2 chapter: prologue #dv2

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urbanfusionmedia · 4 years

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Miss Universe Zozibini Tunzi jetting in to serve on Miss SA judging panel

Tunzi, South Africa’s reigning Miss Universe, is set to take a seat at the judges’ table when the final of the Miss South Africa 2020 pageant starts this weekend on Saturday 24 October.

Tunzi’s selection as a judge was announced by the Miss South Africa pageant organisers, which said the trailblazing beauty would be returning to the country this week ahead of the pageant finale when the judging and crowning the 2020 winner will take place.

And the Miss South Africa 2020 judges are…

The all-female judging line-up includes some of the country’s most respected and influential personalities with Tunzi being joined by Peggy-Sue Khumalo, Anele Mdoda and Leandie du Randt. According to the pageant organisers, a fifth judge is still to be revealed.

How to catch all the glitz and the glamour

The pageant will be held at the Table Bay Hotel in Cape Town from 17:00 on Saturday.

The event will be streamed online and subscriptions are currently on sale for R99.99 excluding VAT, and includes a pre-show and an opportunity to see what goes on backstage.

The pageant will also be screened live on M-Net (DStv Channel 101) and Mzansi Magic (Channel 161).

See who are the beauties who will be vying for the Miss SA 2020 crown here.

Many happy returns for Tunzi

It is expected to be a happy return for Tunzi whose participation in the 2019 pageant saw her being crowned Miss South Africa. She then went on to be named as Miss Universe.

“One woman’s life is about to change and I am a part of a panel that will make that happen. I am nervous but mostly humbled and excited by it.” she said.

Tunzi, who has been vocal about gender-based violence (GBV) during her reign, celebrated her 27th birthday on Friday 18 September on home soil.

She was granted special permission due to the pandemic to return home from New York where she has been based.

Also read: Birthday queen: Miss Universe Zozibini Tunzi celebrates on home soil

African Social Star nomination

The beauty queen has also been trending on social media for the past few weeks after informing her 2.7 million followers on Instagram that she has been nominated in the African Social Star of 2020 category for this year’s E! People’s Choice Awards.

Miss Universe was nominated alongside Pearl Modiadie, Thuso Mbedu, Sho Madjozi, Elsa Majimbo, Wian, Lydia Forson and Dimma Umeh.

What Tunzi will be looking for in a winner

The 27-year-old shared some of the attributes she believes a successful pageant contestant should have.

“There are various aspects to look out for but I am mostly looking for someone with raw authenticity and sincerity about who they are, Tunzi revealed.

“I am not looking for perfection or moral purity, but someone who has a voice and an aura about her that makes almost everyone feel at ease when they come into contact with her. This is because she will be engaging with a lot of people in the year.”

Tunzi’s universal advice to contestants

“To this year’s winner, you are going to create the most beautiful memories and touch a lot of lives. Never take that lightly or for granted; it is a blessing,” Tunzi said

“There are some times when things will get really hard, and when that happens, I want you to remember why you started. It will get you through the craziest days.

“Most importantly, live in the moment and enjoy it fully because time passes by so quickly. Good luck, you are going to be incredible.”

New host for Miss South Africa 2020

Actress and humanitarian Nomzamo Mbatha will host this year’s Miss SA pageant for the first time. She replaces TV personality Bonang Matheba who hosted the event for the past two consecutive years. She served on the pageant’s judging panel in 2014.

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techcrunchappcom · 4 years

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New Post has been published on https://techcrunchapp.com/brooklyn-beckhams-new-fiancee-nicola-peltz-shares-glimpse-of-her-dazzling-200k-diamond-ring-daily-mail/

Brooklyn Beckham's new fiancée Nicola Peltz shares glimpse of her dazzling $200k diamond ring - Daily Mail

Brooklyn Beckham fiancée Nicola Peltz shared a close-up glimpse of her dazzling $200,000 ring on Sunday, one day after the couple announced their engagement.

Just the 25-year-old actress’ hand was featured in a shot shared on 21-year-old Brooklyn’s Stories as she petted their adorable pet pooch.

And while the couple’s four-legged friend was the centre of attention, it was hard to miss Nicola’s emerald diamond dazzler, which is thought to be 4.5-5 carats.

Ring: Brooklyn Beckham fiancée Nicola Peltz shared a close-up glimpse of her dazzling $200,000 ring on Sunday, one day after the couple announced their engagement

Dazzler: It was hard to miss Nicola’s diamond dazzler, which is thought to be 4.5-5 carats

Shannon Delany-Ron, director of communications at JamesAllen.com, told Mirror Online of the sparkling new accessory: ‘Nicola’s ring looks to be a 4.5-5 carat emerald diamond in a classic solitaire setting on a thin band.

‘Beauty and precision are hallmarks of the emerald cut engagement ring. The cut’s long lines give the stone its elegant and sophisticated look. I would estimate the value of the ring to be about $150,000 – $200,000.

‘This timeless style is a favourite among celebrities. Jennifer Lopez, Amal Clooney and Jennifer Lawrence all wear emerald cut engagement rings. Brooklyn’s mom Victoria also loves this style…’

Brooklyn and Nicola announced their engagement on Saturday, following reports the had popped the question.

And alleged details have since emerged of the couple’s upcoming nuptials, which are said to be costing £4 million.

Wedding bells! Brooklyn Beckham and his new fiancée Nicola Peltz officially announced their engagement on Saturday

Nicola’s billionaire father, Nelson Peltz, 78, is reportedly paying for the wedding with Brooklyn’s parents Victoria and David Beckham also wanting to ‘contribute’.

The nuptials are said to be taking place in both the UK and Florida with the couple allegedly expected to sign pre-nups at the behest of Nicola’s father, who is said to be worth £1.34 billion.

While Brooklyn’s little sister, Harper, nine, will reportedly be ‘chief bridesmaid’ and his brothers Romeo, 17, and Cruz, 15, acting as his ‘ushers’.

A source told The Sun: ‘Everyone is delighted for them. Brooklyn has always looked up to his parents and grandparents, who have been married for a combined 70 years, and that’s what he wants.

Wow: The photographer, 21, and actress, 25, announced that they were engaged on Saturday following reports he had popped the question

Exciting: And now alleged details have emerged of the couple’s upcoming nuptials, which are said to be costing £4 million

‘David and Victoria are thrilled. They feel he has finally met a girl who is not after him for fame or money. In fact, her family wealth dwarfs the Beckhams.’

They added: ‘It’s too early to set a date, but they’re aiming for the end of next summer or early autumn.’

MailOnline has contacted both Nicola and the Beckham’s representatives.

Victoria, who has a net worth of £335 million alongside husband David, is said to be designing one of the wedding dresses that Nicola will wear at one of their ceremonies.

The happy couple are also reportedly keen to move to the US permanently, and are said to be house-hunting in LA where Brooklyn has allegedly been offered a number of internships.

Brooklyn took to Instagram on Saturday to announce he was engaged following reports he had popped the question to his ‘soulmate’ Nicola, 25.

He is said to have proposed on the weekend of David and Victoria’s 21st wedding anniversary, and gave her a £250,000 ring he had designed.

The son of David and Victoria vowed to be the best ‘husband and daddy’ as he shared the gushing tribute to his bride-to-be.

Helping: Nicola’s billionaire father, Nelson Peltz, 78, is reportedly paying for the wedding with Brooklyn’s parents Victoria and David Beckham also wanting to ‘contribute’

Sharing a stunning snap of the couple, he wrote ‘Two weeks ago I asked my soulmate to marry me and she said yes xx I am the luckiest man in the world. I promise to be the best husband and the best daddy one day. I love you baby xx’

In the snap Brooklyn held his hand to the actress’ waist, while she held her ring-clad hand to his face in an intimate snap, taken by his little sister Harper, nine.

Nicola looked stunning in a flowing yellow dress with frill detailing, while Brooklyn looked handsome in a two-piece navy suit for the engagement snap.

Brooklyn and Nicola shared identical images on their Instagram pages, as the Bates Motel star admitted she was feeling like the ‘luckiest girl in the world’.

Elated: Brooklyn and Nicola shared identical images on their Instagram pages, as the Bates Motel star admitted she was feeling like the ‘luckiest girl in the world’ to be engaged to him

She wrote: ‘You’ve made me the luckiest girl in the world. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life by your side. your love is the most precious gift. I love you so so much baby and thank you harper for this pic.’

Underneath her post, Brooklyn replied: ‘ My girl forever xxx I love you more than anything.’

It appears the image was taken recently following the couple’s return to the Cotswolds, after isolating together in New York.

The news broke online on Friday evening that Brooklyn had asked Nicola to be his wife and he has confirmed the speculation just hours later.

Just moments after the online announcement, fashion mogul Victoria took to her own Instagram account to offer the couple her congratulations.

Happy: Just moments after the online announcement, fashion mogul Victoria took to her own Instagram account to offer the couple her congratulations

Victoria wrote: ‘The MOST exciting news!! We could not be happier that Brooklyn and Nicola are getting married! Wishing you so much love and a lifetime of happiness. We all love you both so much x’

She wrote: ‘The MOST exciting news!! We could not be happier that Brooklyn and Nicola are getting married! Wishing you so much love and a lifetime of happiness. We all love you both so much x’

An insider told the Mirror on Friday that his parents David, 45, and Victoria, 46, have given their blessing for the marriage to take place.

A source told the publication: ‘Brooklyn has been telling his friends in LA that he and Nicola are engaged. It’s common knowledge among their group of friends. They are smitten.’

‘David and Victoria have very much given this relationship their blessing.

‘It’s a very exciting time for the whole family and after a few previous rocky relationships, they think Brooklyn has landed on his feet.’

Brotherly love! Brooklyn’s brothers Romeo, 17, and Cruz, 15, also sweetly offered their well-wishes on social media as they reported their sibling’s original post on their Stories

No problem! An insider told the Mirror that his parents David and Victoria have given their blessing for the marriage to take place

Brooklyn’s brothers Romeo, 17, and Cruz, 15, also sweetly offered their well-wishes on social media as they reported their sibling’s original post on their Stories.

The pair have been dating for around nine months and Brooklyn has previously dated actress Chloe Grace Moretz and model Hana Cross, both aged 23.

The couple often make proclamations of their love on social media and have shared several romantic snaps during their time in lockdown.

The pair have been isolating together in New York with actress Nicola having moved in with the celebrity offspring in March following just five months of dating.

Love: Brooklyn has apparently been telling his pals that he popped the question to his other half for a while

Loved-up! The couple often make proclamations of their love on social media and have shared several romantic snaps during their time in lockdown

The move also reportedly has the backing of Brooklyn’s famous parents David and Victoria, who seem to think they’re the perfect match.

The source said: ‘[Brooklyn] and Nicola are closer than ever and they are both excited to take their relationship to the next level by sharing the same home.’

‘Nicola has been a big hit with the entire Beckham family – both David and Victoria have made it clear to Brooklyn how much they like her. So they completely support him in this move – though they will miss him a lot.’

Brooklyn set up home in the States after ending his internship with iconic photographer Rankin.

Isolation buddies: The pair have been isolating together in New York with actress Nicola having moved in with the celebrity offspring in March following just five months of dating

The couple have since jetted to the UK to spend time with Brooklyn’s family at their country pad in the Cotswolds and have shared snaps of their reunion.

Brooklyn was linked to a string of women before meeting Nicola, following his split from model Hana, including Canadian actress Natalie Ganzhorn, 21, and brunette actress Phoebe Torrance, 25.

His high-profile ex-girlfriends include actress Chloe, 23, and French model-singer Sonia Ben Ammar, 21.

Nicola was previously dating the youngest of the Hadid siblings, model Anwar Hadid. It’s believed they dated for just over a year before they split up in May 2018.

Together again! The couple have since jetted to the UK to spend time with Brooklyn’s family at their country pad in the Cotswolds and have shared snaps of their reunion

A source told the publication: ‘Brooklyn has been telling his friends in LA that he and Nicola are engaged. It’s common knowledge among their group of friends. They are smitten’

However the model now appears to be completely loved-up with Nicola and last month the couple wore his mother Victoria’s charity T-shirt to mark Pride Month.

Twinning in their tops, the pair appeared besotted with each other as they enjoyed a smooch in a field.

Brooklyn’s mother, Spice Girl turned fashion designer Victoria, has written about how much much she is missing Brooklyn during lockdown in the UK.

Earlier this year, Nicola declared that she and Brooklyn will be together ‘forever’ as she stressed the strength of their relationship alongside a steamy photograph shared to Instagram.

Pride! However the model now appears to be completely loved-up with Nicola and last month the couple wore his mother Victoria’s charity T-shirt to mark Pride Month

Cosy: Nicola declared that she and Brooklyn will be together ‘forever’ as she stressed the strength of their relationship alongside a steamy photograph shared to Instagram

Brooklyn Beckham’s failed romances

August 2014 – March 2018 (on and off) – Chloë Grace Moritz

In August 2014, Brooklyn and actress Chloë Grace Moritz, 23, attended the Teen Choice Awards together and subsequently dated on and off for almost 4 years.

After enjoying a romantic summer together in May 2016 , then split in September 2016. Despite later rekindling their romance, they finally called it quits in March 2018.

During breaks in their relationship, Brooklyn was linked to a bevvy of other famous beauties.

Longterm ex: Brooklyn and actress Chloë Grace Moritz, 23, dated on and off for almost 4 years between August 2014 and March 2018 (Pictured November 2017)

September 2015 – Sonia Ben Ammar

After meeting French-Tunisian model and singer Sonia Ben Ammar, 21, over spring break in the Maldives in 2015, Brooklyn embarked on a relationship with her which lasted for a few months. They briefly re-sparked the romance in 2016 before it fizzled out for good.

Former flame: Brooklyn embarked on a short-lived relationship with French-Tunisian model and singer Sonia Ben Ammar, 21, in 2015 (Pictured March 2017)

October 2016 – Sofia Richie

Brooklyn’s relationship with model Sofia Richie, 21, (daughter of Lionel Richie and sister to actress Nicole Richie) was never officially confirmed, but the pair were frequently spotted together from late 2016 to early 2017.

Brooklyn’s relationship with Sofia Richie, 21, was never officially confirmed, but they were spotted together from late 2016 to early 2017 (Pictured January 2017)

May 2017 – Rita Ora

It was reported that Brooklyn had a secret flirtation with pop star Rita Ora, 29, in 2017. The pair went for a dinner date and were later spotted holding hands at The Electric in West London. They are said to have shared some steamy smooches before Brooklyn’s parents banned him from seeing her again and sent him back to New York.

Flirtation: It was reported that Brooklyn had a secret flirtation and some steamy smooches with pop star Rita Ora, 29, in 2017 (Picture from social media)

July 2017 – Lottie Moss

It was claimed that Brooklyn and Lottie Moss, 22 – half-sister of supermodel Kate Moss – had a ‘secret fling’ before he started dating his now ex-girlfriend Hana Cross.

Model mania: It was claimed that Brooklyn and Lottie Moss, 22, had a ‘secret fling’ in July 2017 (Picture from social media)

April 2018 – Lexi Wood

Brooklyn was pictured kissing Canadian Vogue and Playboy model Lexi Wood, 22, as they sat in a West Hollywood tattoo parlour.

Stunner: In April 2018, Brooklyn was pictured kissing Canadian Playboy model Lexi Wood, 22, as they sat in a West Hollywood tattoo parlour (Picture August 2019)

May 2018 – July 2018 – Lexy Panterra

Beckham was linked to Lexy Panterra, 29, during the summer of 2018 before he started dating Hana Cross.

The social media star grew to fame for her online LexTwerkOut twerking workout videos.

LexTwerkOut: Beckham was linked to Lexy Panterra, 29, during the summer of 2018 before he started dating Hana Cross (Pictured in April 2017)

July 2018 – Abi Manzoni

Following his split from Lexy, Brooklyn was romantically linked to Abi Manzoni, a singer/model who runs a legally licensed cannabis company.

Linked: Following his split from Lexy, Brooklyn was romantically linked to Abi Manzoni, a singer/model who runs a legally licensed cannabis company (Pictured July 2018)

August 2018 – Alex Lee Aillon

Brooklyn was also reported to have enjoyed a brief romance with Alex Lee Aillon, 21 – a model represented by Milk and Select Model Management.

Alex Lee is now in a relationship with Hollywood actor Pierce Brosnan’s youngest son Paris, 19.

Beauty: In August 2018 Brooklyn was also reported to have enjoyed a brief romance with model Alex Lee Aillon, 21 (Pictured September 2019)

December 2018 – July 2019 (on and off) – Hana Cross

In December 2018 Brooklyn began dating Hana Cross, 23, a successful model signed by three different agencies; Select Model Management, The Lions and Premium Models.

Brooklyn and Hana were reportedly physically separated by security guards during a public row which took place at Hotel Martinez during the Cannes Film Festival in May 2019.

After splitting and reuniting numerous times during their tumultuous 7 months relationship, they finally parted ways for good in July 2019.

On and off: Brooklyn began dating Hana Cross, 23, in December 2018, but after a tumultuous 7 months, they parted ways for good in July 2019 (Pictured May 2019)

October 2019 – Phoebe Torrance & Natalie Ganzhorn

After splitting from Hana, and before beginning his relationship with Nicola Peltz, Brooklyn reportedly enjoyed dalliances with a couple of actresses.

He was pictured at London’s Wellington club with actress Phoebe Torrance, 25, who is the daughter of former professional golfer Sam Torrance. Phoebe has starred as Amber Ross in horror Mandy the Doll and in boxing drama Six Rounds. The starlet also featured in an episode of Friday Night Dinner as Mandy The Waitress.

Around the same time, Brooklyn was also linked to Canadian actress Natalie Ganzhorn, 21. The social media star and Toronto-born model who now lives in LA is best known for her part in popular Canadian musical comedy series Make It Pop, playing the role of Heather until the TV show ended in 2016.

Dalliance: Phoebe was pictured at London’s Wellington club with actress Phoebe Torrance, 25, daughter of professional golfer Sam Torrance (Picture from social media)

Canadian cutie: In October 2019 Brooklyn was also linked to Canadian actress Natalie Ganzhorn, 21 (Pictured November 2019)

#Uncategorized

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thefatfeministwitch · 6 years

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Everyday, as you’re getting ready to leave for work or hit the town with your friends or look for that perfect new job, you take stock of the general vibe of the day so you know how to approach it. You stick your head out the window to check the weather, notice how quick the second hand on your clock is moving, and try to read the dispositions of those you meet on the street. Every day has it’s own energy and when you walk out the door in the morning (or the afternoon, no judgements!) as a good little witch, it’s best to have your magickal arsenal backing you up!

Monday’s Witch is tranquil and white Tuesday’s Witch wields fire and might Wednesday’s Witch is wacky but wise Thursday’s Witch keeps their eye on the prize Friday’s Witch mixes coconut and lime Saturday’s Witch can bend space and time but the Witch who works on Sunna’s day will always bring bright blessings their way

The word “correspondences” doesn’t sound hella interesting or witchy, so don’t think of this as a post about magickal daily correspondences, think of this as your witchy weather report for the days of the week! Much like a daily horoscope (like the ones from Broadly, which I LOVE and check religiously), these daily bits of astrological magick will tell you the kind of spells to focus on, colours to wear and use, witchy tools to wield, or just in general how to be the best witch you can be that day. When you combine this daily witchery with things like moon phases, current astrolgoical phases, and the season you’re in with your own witchy intuition you have a fully fledged magical almanac.

One of my favourite things about daily magick is that it helps break up ruts and monotonous magical slumps. It gets you thinking magickally every day and gives you small things to focus on. Over time this builds into a great daily practice. You don’t have to be an expert, you don’t have to write your own horoscope or even be fully versed in astrology. I’m not! Every day and once a month I read a hororscope from Broadly, I get weekly and monthly astrology reports from Georgia Nicols in my inbox, and I love the Hoodwitch’s weekly witch tips. When we move into astrological seasons I trust other astrologers to give me the highlights, and the same with the astrological signs of the moon. I use that info from those brilliant people, with my own witchy knowledge of daily magick to give myself daily witchy forecasts so I have a head start on the day. I use a magickal day planner to keep it all in and make it look pretty and colourful so I can start the day off right. (OK SO YEAH I’M AN OFFICE SUPPLY NERD, OK??) This week I’ll be posting about the energy of the day every morning so you can start your day off right and maybe do a little magick.

Saturday

Planet: Saturn

Planetary Symbol: ♄Saturn’s sickle or scythe

Element: Earth, Spirit

Colours: Dark purple, dark blue, black, grey, dark green, wine red

Stones & Metals: Lead; obsidian, jet, black tourmaline, hematite, lapis lazuli, galaxyite, amethyst

Incenses, Herbs & Oils: Myrrh, Patchouli, Morning Glory, Mullein, Pomegranate, Mugwort, Rosemary

Tarot Cards: Knight of Swords, Two of Swords, The Hermit

Saturday was named after the roman god Saturn, who was a god agriculture, limitations and the passage of time. Saturday is a day to wrap up loose ends, to take it easy, to magical clean and cleanse your space and to look inward.

In addition to our infinitely patient god of earth and space, Saturday is Hekate’s day. Hekate was the all-powerful goddess of magick and witches. She is the patron deity of witches everywhere and is associated with the stages of life, the magick of all of the elements and even darker elements such as death and crossroads. Hekate is a goddess is gets stuff done, and Saturdays reflect this as a day to clear up everything that needs clearing up and even physical cleaning and getting your home in order.

Many of the plants and incenses associated Saturday are almost cliché witch herbs. Morning Glory, which is hallucinogenic and all consuming, Mugwort which aids in divination and magick (and just SOUNDS witchy!), Mullein which is used to talk with the dead and pomegranate, the food of the underworld. Myrrh is sweet and brings in a witch’s connection to the moon; patchouli creates a deep connection to the earth, and rosemary and hearty and stable.

The stones to use on Saturdays all seem to have very spacey and also somehow earthy energies. Black stones repel negativity, offer protection, are used in scrying and divination, are earthy and stabilizing, and are very cleansing. Jet, as an amber, is also a status symbol for witches and is worn by many high priestesses to denote rank. Lapis lazuli, galaxyite, and amethyst all work with your third eye and connect you to higher realms.

Types of Saturday Magick: spirit communication, star scrying, spiritual cleansing and clearing, all magic, spiritual and astral travel, warding, banishing, cursing and hexing, deity worship, grounding, shadow work, past life regression

Book of Shadows Tarot Vol. 2

The Halloween Tarot

The Housewives Tarot

Tarot: The Hermit shows an image of Saturn himself, father time. If it shows up in a Saturday reading, it’s time to look inward, slow down, and accesses your growth or progress. You can also use this as a representation or link to the god. The two of swords frightens people, but it’s about balance and about creating a choice. It signifies that now is the time to make a choice, any choice. Even the wrong choice pushes you forward. It’s a good card for those pushing themselves to get things done on Saturday. The Knight of Swords is a card of no fear! This is a card to give you strength when dealing with some of the darker magic that is done on Saturdays. You’ve made a choice and now is the time to dive in!

Dress for magickal success: Saturday is the day to break out all of the gothic items from the 80s you know you’re holding on to. Classically witchy looks like all black, dark purples, stars and galaxy prints and powerful feeling clothing items are for Saturdays. If you’re staying home and tending the garden of your life, earthy comfortable fabrics like cotton in subdued colours let people know you don’t need anything flashy to be powerful.

Sunday

Planet: The Sun

Planetary Symbol: ☉The sun at the centre of our galaxy

Element: Fire

Colours: Yellow, orange, gold, hot pink

Stones & Metals: Gold; carnelian, citrine, amber, tiger’s eye, fire opal, sunstone

Incenses, Herbs & Oils: Frankincense, orange, cinnamon, bergamot, cedar, rosemary, sunflower, st john’s wort

Tarot Cards: The Sun, Ace of Wands, The Chariot

It’s no mystery where Sunday got its name, and indeed it’s a day of bright, warm, illuminating and endlessly happy energy. Today’s a day to focus on everything you’ve accomplished in your life and spend it basking in the warmth of that feeling.

Sunna was the Norse goddess of the sun and drove the solar chariot across the sky that brought us the daylight. In ancient Rome and Greece, this exact action was accomplished by Helios and Apollo, respectively. Indeed, many people equate sun energy with more “masculine” energy. The Celtic’s revered the goddess Brighid as the keeper of fire – internal fire of emotion, the healing and cleansing fire, and fire of the hearth and home. (Sorry, gods!) All of these deities are described in similar ways, brightly shining, golden, infinitely happy and compassionate about their people. This is why Sunday is such a great day to spend with families.

Smells and plants associated with Sunday are warm and spicy like cinnamon, but combined with a more clearing scent like orange and frankincense. Cedar and Rosemary bring the outside in, and call in the smells and feelings of warm weather and plants that thrive in the sun. In its mundane life, St John’s Wort is used as an anti-depressant and calms anxiety, which makes it a great herb to accompany Sunday’s cheerful energy.

Though your fiery, red Mars stones and crystals from tuesday will help you get some things done today, consider some more gentle yellows instead. Reach for citrine and amber to bring sunshine, joy, and relaxation on a nice warm sunday. If you’re spending the day with your love, put a piece of sunstone in your bra or near your heart to add sexy and funny sun energy to your date.

Types of Sunday Magick: spells for happiness and love, spells for success for the following week, spells regarding family and familial relation, spells for illumination or clarification, rituals marking growth and abundance, candle magick

Maori Tarot

Witches Tarot

Tarot of Sexual Magic

Tarot: The Sun card is the obvious choice for Sunday tarot. The nice thing about the sun card is that it’s so happy and bright that no matter where it falls in a reading it lightens up every other card just a little bit. This is exactly the energy of Sunday. The Ace of Wands is the beginning of a fiery new journey. Everything is ahead of you now! Sunday is a time to start fresh, with new passion and creativity. The Chariot card could be travel or transportation – taking a Sunday drive with someone you love, maybe – but this is another card about balance and compromise. We all wish we could be the Sunday versions of ourselves forever, but eventually Monday will come and we’ll pull back into the calm, cool night. Don’t feel like you’re being pulled in two directions, recognize this time for what it is and make the most of it, and be ready to work with the energy of the other days of the week.

Dress for magickal success: Sunday’s energy is happy, but calm. Wear bright colours and simple patterns, or include suns, stars, and sparkles for a more brilliant sunny shine. Don’t bog yourself down with too much jewellery and wear comfortable shoes – this is a day to get out and celebrate your life. Wear something that makes you feel warm and comfortable inside and out, but that lets you move around and change direction spontaneously.

HAVE A GREET WEEK, WITCHES!

Some of my favourite sources of daily magick:

Magical Fashionista by Tess Whitehurst

The Book of Witchery by Ellen Dugan

Coloring Book of Shadows Planners by Amy Cesari

The Witch’s Almanac by Weiser Books

Llewellyn’s Witches Companion and Datebooks

Plus the online sources listed above! Where do you get your daily magical advice?

Witchy Weather Report: The Weekend’s Witch Everyday, as you're getting ready to leave for work or hit the town with your friends or look for that perfect new job, you take stock of the general vibe of the day so you know how to approach it.

#daily correspondences #daily magic #daily magick #magick #saturn #the sun #weekends #witch aesthetic #Witchcraft #witchcraft 101 #witchy weather report

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shorthaircutsmodels · 4 years

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Kylie Jenner's Short Hairstyles and Haircuts - 15+ - https://shorthaircutsmodels.com/kylie-jenners-short-hairstyles-and-haircuts/ - Kylie Jenner's Short Hairstyles and Haircuts, earlier this month Kylie decided to. Ring in the new year by debuting a. Drastic hair change and donning some long. Bright blonde hair that was literally lemon coloured and obviously matched her handbag. Kylie Jenner's Short Hairstyles and Haircuts A list hairdresser recently worked with the mother of one of her make-up collaboration campaign photos in which Stormi gave the Star mermaid length tresses cascading down her derrière. Kylie Jenner's Hairstyles and Haircuts Kylie Jenner's Short Hairstyles and Haircuts, In recent months. Guerrero has styled Jenner for endless events. With a dramatically different look. Kylie Jenner's Short Hairstyles From a Jane Jetson to a short pin straight chin-length crop of red and blonde wigs for the billionaire's Halloween, she inspired a black bob with tips. 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Kylie Jenner hair brown Valentine's day hours after she revealed her hairdresser had cut off all her natural locks. Friday's Instagram story shared a selfie video of her Galentine s Day Painting lunch as Kylie flaunted her long brunette wig with blonde highlights to accessorize her pink outfit. Kylie Jenner hair instagram Earlier in the day, the make-up mogul shared a black and white video of her newly cut short hair and now a bob ending up above her shoulders. Kylie Jenner hair long The former eastenders actress has always been a big fan of Kylie and was friends with her father Caitlyn Jenner. Kylie Jenner hair treatment On I'm A Celebrity last year. Caitlyn strangled Jacqueline when Kylie recorded a video congratulating her on her coronation as Queen of the jungle. Kylie Jenner aqua hair Thursday's Instagram of Kylie Jenner showed off her dramatic new hairdo, blaming celebrity hairstylist. Kylie Jenner hair black Jesus Guerrero for chopping it all up. The 22-year-old make-up mogul now sports a bob, but claims he only asked Guerrero for a fix. Kylie Jenner hair new Then literally Kylie looks like a God without makeup or just looks great-she looked and was like Jacqueline. Kylie Jenner haircut short He said My name in an American accent and it was incredible. @ JesusHair wrote to the Keeping Up With The kardashians star that she gave me a trim and cut all my hair. She was referencing her hairdresser, Jesus Guererro. Kylie Jenner haircut bob The Kylie Cosmetics founder shared the caption on a black and white video showing her new hairstyle while still on her chaise longue. Her hair was wet and scrunched and barely crossed her chin. She took a bizarre turn in the video. Kylie Jenner hair scarf By adding a cherry filter to her makeup-free face. The new hairstyle isn't out of the ordinary for the youngest of the Kardashian Jenner clan. Kylie is known for switching her hair too often whether in length style or colour. Kylie Jenner blonde hair You did a great job, I've heard a lot about you. Kylie Jenner changes her hair as often as the coveted lip kits sell. Kylie Jenner hair now She recently took to Snapchat to share that she actually cut her hair into bob s grazing short chin when she claimed she started wigs in an. Kylie Jenner hairstyle Interview with Marie Claire Kylie when she was known to wear typical wigs. this time it feels real. In a series of Snapchat videos Kylie debuted her new haircut with. Kylie Jenner hair up The caption gag having to cut all my hair today. He then showed a close shot of some small strands still looking lighter after accidentally dyed his hair platinum in 2020-2021. Kylie Jenner new hairstyle He wrote that my hair was still blonde. Kylie later confirmed via Twitter that it was actually her real hair. And now Jacqueline is planning on flying out to Los Angeles to meet Kylie who can't wait to meet her. Kylie Jenner hair brush The Keeping Up With The Kardashians star is often snapped. Thanks to her luscious long locks of hair extensions and. Wigs but in a video shared on her instagram Stories her. Hair barely reaches her shoulders. Kylie Jenner hair care Bob is unlikely to be a thing of the past in any time considering Kylie has replaced him with wigs and hair extensions. Kylie Jenner hair routine Check out the photographic evidence ahead that she really cut her hair. The cosmetics queen shared the clip as she was touched by roots home colourist Cassondra Kaeding. Kylie Jenner hair tips The Video showed the 22-year-old star posing for the camera with dye in her hair. He continued to close the magazine. Kylie Jenner hair dye The girls are excited to meet her very special Kylie who has already insisted she gets invited to a dinner when she is in town.

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junker-town · 4 years

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6 winners and 5 losers from Day 2 of the NFL Draft

AJ Epenesa, Jonathan Taylor, and Xavier McKinney were all Day 2 picks in the 2020 NFL Draft.

The Ravens’ running game got better, Carson Wentz is on notice, and Roger Goodell needs a nap.

Day 2 of the 2020 NFL Draft is over, and 74 more college stars saw their pro dreams come true. Players coming from programs ranging from LSU and Ohio State to Lenoir-Rhyne and Dayton heard NFL commissioner Roger Goodell call their names to shove them off on their NFL journeys.

The ripples of Friday night’s decisions won’t be fully understood for at least a decade as early-round picks fizzle and overlooked prospects rise to the top of the NFL. Even so, we can gather a pretty good idea of which players, teams, and college programs are celebrating a little bit harder than others as the draft nears its halfway point.

So who looks best after a quick glance in the rear view mirror? And which teams may need to stick their landing on Day 3?

Winner: Every team that got a first-round talent on Day 2

On Thursday night, 32 elite football players were welcomed into the NFL fraternity. But the amount of sheer talent that was still waiting to be drafted was incredible:

One personnel director calls this “the deepest second round in the last 25 years.” He believes there are 20 players available tonight that could have been first-round picks; there usually are 7-10. “There will be as many starters in this round that there are in the first round.”

— Adam Schefter (@AdamSchefter) April 24, 2020

So many names who were expected to be drafted in the first round — and might have been in any other year — remained on the board. Safety Xavier McKinney was a popular mock draft pick for the Cowboys or Dolphins. So was cornerback Kristian Fulton to the Raiders, edge A.J. Epenesa to the Patriots, cornerback Jaylon Johnson to the Vikings, OT Josh Jones to the Dolphins, and WR Denzel Mims to the Packers, among others.

Other players who could’ve sneaked into Round 1 included safety Antoine Winfield Jr, OT Ezra Cleveland, and even running backs D’Andre Swift, Jonathan Taylor or J.K. Dobbins. (Please, no debates about the value of a first-round running back right now.)

All of those players were available heading into Day 2. Teams like the Colts (Taylor, Michael Pittman Jr.), Cowboys (Trevon Diggs, Neville Gallimore), Giants (McKinney), Bills (Epenesa), Jets (Mims), and Cardinals (Jones) were the ones to benefit most.

Winner: The scary as hell Ravens running game

No team had more rushing yards than the Ravens in 2019.

Lamar Jackson earned MVP honors by becoming the first NFL quarterback to ever eclipse 1,200 rushing yards. He was joined in the Baltimore backfield by Mark Ingram, who racked up 1,018 rushing yards and 10 touchdowns. Oh, and don’t forget about Gus Edwards, who averaged 5.3 yards per carry.

That unstoppable ground game somehow got even better Friday when the Ravens added J.K. Dobbins with the 55th pick.

Dobbins rushed for at least 1,000 yards in all three of his seasons at Ohio State. In 2019, he became the first Buckeyes running back ever to have a 2,000-yard season. That’s something Eddie George, Ezekiel Elliott, Archie Griffin, and many other great running backs didn’t accomplish.

Baltimore definitely didn’t need Dobbins’ help. Unfortunately for the entire AFC, he’ll make the Ravens — who are putting together an excellent draft — even harder to stop.

Loser: Carson Wentz

Aaron Rodgers landed on our list of Day 1 losers because the Packers drafted Utah State quarterback Jordan Love. But at least that pick made some sense. Yes, Green Bay could’ve provided Rodgers with the help he needs to win a Super Bowl, but he’s 36 and the Packers need to consider life after his retirement.

That logic can’t be applied to the Eagles’ pick, though.

Wentz is 27 and has five seasons left on his contract. It’s hard to figure out what exactly the team was thinking when it drafted Jalen Hurts in the middle of the second round. While Philadelphia knows all about the benefits of a quality backup quarterback, there were plenty of better ways to improve the roster.

Instead, there’s legitimate reason to question Wentz’s future with the franchise. A team doesn’t draft someone in the second round unless it foresees that player being a long-term fixture.

Winner: Drew Lock

The Broncos’ 2019 second-round pick gave them a lot of reason to be optimistic last year. Lock finished his rookie season 4-1 as a starter with seven touchdowns and three interceptions.

On Thursday, Denver gave him some help by picking Alabama receiver Jerry Jeudy with the No. 15 pick. Unsurprisingly, Lock was happy about it:

— Drew Lock (@DrewLock23) April 24, 2020

The Broncos didn’t stop there, though. In the second round, they Penn State receiver KJ Hamler with the 46th pick. Lock was excited about that too:

— Drew Lock (@DrewLock23) April 25, 2020

Suddenly, Lock has a quite the arsenal. Jeudy and Hamler are joining an offense that already had receiver Courtland Sutton and 2019 first-round tight end Noah Fant. Adding center Lloyd Cushenberry in the third round was just the icing on the cake.

Winner: Good dogs

A fully virtual NFL Draft promised us one very important thing: a lot of good dogs on TV. But the first day was a little bit disappointing. While Giants coach Joe Judge talked about how well-versed his golden retriever Abby is about the 2020 class, she didn’t make a single appearance.

Fortunately, there was a much larger dog presence in Day 2. Bill Belichick even turned into one:

No wonder the Patriots dominated the last two decades.

Loser: Tom Brady

Thursday was a great day for Touchdown Tom, with the Buccaneers moving up one spot in the draft order to secure Iowa offensive tackle Tristan Wirfs. It’s a good thing they did, because the rest of the NFC South spent Friday loading up on players to take Brady down.

First, the Panthers took Penn State edge rusher Yetur Gross-Matos with the 38th pick. He made it clear what his immediate NFL goal is for the 2020 season.

Yetur Gross-Matos: I want to sack Tom Brady.

— Jourdan Rodrigue (@JourdanRodrigue) April 25, 2020

The Atlanta Falcons were next when they picked Auburn pass rusher Marlon Davidson at 47th overall. The All-SEC defensive lineman will likely line up at defensive tackle in Dan Quinn’s defense, which added Dante Fowler Jr. earlier in the offseason.

New Orleans got in on the pass rush party too. After not picking in the second round, the Saints traded away a 2021 third-round pick to move up and take Wisconsin edge rusher Zack Baun at 74th overall.

Brady got some help of his own in Day 2. The Buccaneers added running back Ke’Shawn Vaughn in the third round (and safety Antoine Winfield Jr. in the second round, which probably only reminded Brady of how old he is). But that didn’t do much to change the fact that he’s clearly in the crosshairs of the other NFC South teams.

Loser: Aaron Rodgers, again

Rodgers didn’t get his first-round wideout. That wasn’t necessarily a bad thing; borderline Day 1 talents like Tee Higgins, Laviska Shenault, Denzel Mims, and Michael Pittman Jr. were all on the board to begin Day 2. With a little luck or another trade up the draft board — like the club did to select Rodgers’ possible replacement, Jordan Love — one of those players would be the next big addition to the Packers’ receiving corps.

Green Bay got none of those players. It got a Boston College power back with 21 collegiate receptions to his name (AJ Dillon) and a third-round tight end out of Cincinnati who had 92 catches and 1,117 receiving yards ... in four years with the Bearcats (Josiah Deguara). Instead of getting an immediate boost to his passing game, Rodgers got a couple of lottery tickets who may not make his offense any better.

Winner: Matt Hennessy

The former Temple offensive lineman didn’t just get drafted with the 14th pick in the third round Friday night by the Falcons. As the 3.14 pick, he also won a shit load of pizza.

As the 78th pick, Matt Hennessy gets free @pizzahut for a year. As the 2020 Pizza Hut Pi Pick

— vaughn mcclure (@vxmcclure23) April 25, 2020

That’s an award that should only go to offensive linemen. Congrats on the pizza, Matt.

Loser: Roger Goodell’s gas tank

The commissioner’s doing more work than usual during the draft. In a typical year, Goodell would only announce the first-round picks. The other rounds have recently been handled by trash-talking NFL alumni (who could forget Drew Pearson roasting Philadelphia?), animals, and league representatives other than Goodell reading the picks.

But this year Goodell has to read off all the selections and it seems to be wearing him out. Just look at him by the time the back half of the third round rolled around.

Roger Goodell is exhausted pic.twitter.com/TYHRjV5F8A

— SB Nation (@SBNation) April 25, 2020

There’s another 149 draft picks coming Saturday. Is Goodell going to make it?

Loser: QB Jake Fromm

Fromm had to go through the first two nights of the draft without hearing his name called. What’s even worse is that there was a camera in his living room that captured him having to wait in agony:

We still don’t understand why Fromm declared for the NFL Draft this year. He had three OK seasons in Athens, but he was also coming off his least efficient year and failed to impress at the NFL Combine.

If he had returned in 2020, his team could’ve still won the SEC East division and he would’ve gotten a chance to his boost his NFL resume with a bounce-back year. Sure, maybe he didn’t want to come out in 2021, the same year as Clemson’s Trevor Lawrence and Ohio State’s Justin Fields (aka Fromm’s former backup). But he’s already seen five quarterbacks go ahead of him this year. Who knows how much longer he’ll be waiting alongside his generically handsome family.

Winner: Tight ends

There were six tight ends taken in the first rounds of the last three drafts. That streak ended this year, when zero tight ends went off the board on the first night of the draft. It wasn’t a shock, by any stretch. But it confirmed what many already thought about the positional group: It’s the weakest of the draft class.

The second night of the draft was another story. Now, as many tight ends (five) as quarterbacks have been selected through two nights of the draft.

Tight ends started making their comeback one-third of the way through the second round, when the Bears took Notre Dame’s Cole Kmet with the No. 43 overall pick. (Did the Bears need a tight end? Probably not.)

The third round is where things really started to pick up, though. Four different tight ends heard their name called by an increasingly sleepy Goodell: UCLA’s Devin Asiasi, Cincinnati’s Josiah Deguara, Virginia Tech’s Dalton Keene, and Dayton’s (yes, Dayton!) Adam Trautman.

Two of them, Asiasi and Keene, have been the Patriots’ only two offensive draftees so far. Belichick might not be done, either, with players like the highly athletic Albert Okwuegbunam and “Randy Moss is my dad” Thaddeus Moss still available on Day 3.

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epiphany-in-exile · 6 years

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Billboard Taylor Swift's 2017: The Timeline 12/18/2017 by Allison Stubblebine From the record-breaking 'Reputation' to speaking out against sexual assault, Swift continued to change culture in 2017. Taylor Swift didn't do a lot in 2017... until she did. Following months spent attempting to fly under the radar, and the Instagram blackout of Aug. 2017, Swift took the rest of the year by storm, with a not-so-traditional album rollout for Reputation and a series of larger than life visuals to accompany the first singles. Fans got a sneak preview at what was to come from her personally curated Secret Sessions, but those were hidden away from the lens of the media. Now that Reputation is here to stay, Billboard has taken a look back at Swift's action packed year. Jan. 27 - “I Don’t Want to Live Forever” music video release Swift kicked off the New Year with the release of the visuals to Fifty Shades Darker track “I Don’t Wanna Live Forever.” Swift and former 1D artist Zayn trashed a hotel room for the video, lit by flashing shades of blue and red. The song peaked at No. 2 on the Billboard Hot 100. Feb. 4 2017 - Taylor Swift plays “only show of 2017” Swift broke some disappointing news to fans during her pre-Super Bowl set for DIRECTV Now Super Saturday Night. "I have to be really honest with you about something: As far as I know, I'm doing one show in 2017. And as far as I know, this is that one show," Swift said long before the announcement of Reputation. She added, “You're the crowd in my most recent daydreams, when I'm thinking about being onstage, so I was wondering: If you don't feel like dancing for yourself or screaming for yourself, you don't feel in the mood or whatever, you're like stressed out, would you do it for me tonight?" Feb. 15-16 - TAS Rights Management, LLC filed nine separate trademarks for “Swifties” Swift’s brand nailed down the things most true to her: Swifties. Nine separate trademarks were filed for the word alone, including one involving “a website featuring non-downloadable audio recordings [and] video recordings.” The idea that Swift would launch her own streaming service was debunked. Mar. 2 - Ed Sheeran teases Swift’s upcoming album The singer revealed that his pal would be putting her music out quite late on in the year, saying, “Taylor [Swift] isn’t going to be releasing until probably the end of this year—Christmas is the smartest time to release because that’s when everyone buys records.” Looks like he was right. Mar. 10 - Man arrested for stalking/burglary inside Swift’s apartment building A man was arrested in Swift’s New York City building on charges of burglary, stalking, and trespassing. According to a Page Six report, the man allegedly hoped to meet the singer face-to-face. While the man was initially held on $20,000 bail, he was found unfit to stand trial and reportedly “placed in the custody of the New York State Office of Mental Health” as of late September. April 4 - “Busy working” on new album in Nashville After the singer had been spotted driving around Nashville, a source confirmed to ET that she’d come “to get away from the paparazzi,” and also that she had “been busy working on her upcoming album.” May 15 - She’s really in Nashville! Swift celebrates Mother’s Day at home with her mom TMZ did the heavy digging and proved that Swift really had been in Nashville - though she may have been hopping back and forth, as she was spotted getting onto her private jet after a spending the weekend with mama Swift for Mother’s Day. July 4 - Keeping it low-key for the first time in years on the Fourth of July Paparazzi were very upset that Swift didn’t have an Independence day blowout tailor-made for media, even though she'd been keeping a relatively low profile all year. Aug. 14 - $1 Countersuit Win The long-drawn-out legal battle between DJ David Mueller, who was accused of reaching under the pop star’s skirt to grope her during a photo shoot in 2013, was finally put to rest. After Mueller attempted to countersue for damages that occurred following Swift’s accusation (which was quietly made to the station, who promptly let him go), the singer was awarded a single symbolic dollar in damages. Swift’s attorney Douglas Baldridge explained the value, “It means no means no, and it tells every woman that they will determine what is tolerated with their body." Aug. 18-20 - Bye bye, old Taylor… and old posts In the internet-breaking fashion Swift seems to have perfected, the singer’s social media accounts went into full blackout mode. No old posts were to be found anywhere, signaling that she was gearing up to launch something huge. Aug. 21 - She’s back, but only with some snakes In one of the best social media moments of the year, Swift posted a three-part series of glitch-y snake videos without captions to her Instagram to break her short-lived blackout. The image of the snake had become synonymous with Swift’s internet-meme identity, following the drawn-out beef with Kim Kardashian and Kanye West regarding West’s “Famous” lyrics and video. Aug. 23 - It’s an album! After five days (AKA an eternity in Swiftie time), Swift revealed the project behind the social media madness. Continuing in the three-part posting style, Swift announced “FIRST SINGLE OUT TOMORROW NIGHT,” posted the cover art, and announced the release date for then-upcoming album Reputation. All posts were still caption-less. Aug. 24 - Look what you made her do. Swift released Reputation’s lead single “Look What You Made Me Do” with a clever caption on Instagram: “..ready for it? New single #LookWhatYouMadeMeDo out now.” Of course, the forthcoming track title remained an inside joke to the singer’s team upon posting time. Aug. 27 - Look what you made her do, part two. The singer premiered the visuals for “LWYMMD” at the 2017 MTV VMAs, snagging 43.2 million views in the first 24 hours alone, now standing with over 783 million views. The Joseph Kahn-directed visual is loaded with references to the “old Taylor,” including a tombstone for Nils Sjoberg, her songwriting pseudonym on ex-boyfriend Calvin Harris’ 2016 hit “This Is What You Came For,” nearly all of her most iconic outfits, more snakes, and nearly all her besties’ names scribbled on a new version of her “You Belong With Me” music video costume. Sept. 3 - “…Ready for It?” released Swift released the second track off Reputation after she previewed it on Saturday Night Football the night prior. It followed suit with the darker, much more dramatic new Taylor, yet gave no clearer picture of what was yet to come. Sept. 5 - No. 1, again Taylor Swift's "Look What You Made Me Do" tops the Billboard Hot 100, where it would reign for three weeks. The song was her fifth Hot 100 No. 1 and broke the weekly streaming record for a song by a woman; it also stopped the record-tying 16-week reign of "Despacito." Sept. 7 - TayTay On Demand Ever wanted to know what Swift is up to at any given moment? Well this isn’t exactly that, but the trailer jokes that it will be. Swift announced her new video-on-demand channel in partnership with AT&T and DirectTV called Taylor Swift NOW, accompanied by a hilarious play-by-play of Swift’s day in the studio (complete with Andy Samberg cameo). Oct. 11 - The Swift Life app announced Stans will finally have a one-stop-shop for finding out everything there is to know about their fave singer. It is said to function as a social network of sorts, leaning into Swift’s hobby of “lurking” and replying to fans on social media, and also offering an opportunity to “collect Taymojis, stickers, pics, and more.” Oct. 20 - “Gorgeous” released The predictable yet addicting pop track the world was waiting for finally arrived. Swift sang of a romantic interest that was somehow too gorgeous for even a superstar like her to talk to. James Reynolds, two-year-old daughter of Ryan Reynolds and Blake Lively, was later officially credited in album liner notes as the voice at the beginning of the track. Oct. 27 - “…Ready for it?” returns with visuals The fans surely weren’t ready for it, yet with the Joseph Kahn directed video packed with hidden messages, it wasn’t long before Swifties decoded them all. Among the most obvious are Swift’s birth year spray-painted on a wall, the Chinese characters for “Year of the Snake,” as well as a similar lightning strike in the intro to Calvin Harris’ “This is What You Came For” album art. Nov. 2 - “Call It What You Want” lyric video released Fans started to get a fuller picture of what was coming from Reputation in just over a week. Swift seemed to be finding her way to happiness in the first ballad to be released from the album, but she was still attempting to rid herself of the drama she’d endured. The day was special for more than one reason, coinciding with the 13th anniversary (Swift’s lucky number) of meeting Scott Borchetta, the Big Machine Records executive who signed her and gave her the fateful big break. Nov. 7 - Track list revealed on Swift’s Instagram Account Three days prior to the Reputation release date, Swift posted the back cover to the album, featuring the track listing. Nov. 8 - CMA Win Even though she's left country in the dust on her own albums, Swift's song for Little Big Town, "Better Man," nabbed song of the year at the 2017 CMAs. Nov. 9 - The album was leaked, and this is why we can’t have nice things In this day and age, so many albums leak prior to release date, but not quite in this fashion: missing from the leaked files was track no. 13, “This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things.” Whether it was at the hands of Swift’s team, Swift herself, or a sneaky fan, it was quite the clever move. On the same day, an intimate recording “New Years Day” from what looks like a secret session was premiered on ABC during an episode of Scandal. Nov. 10 - Reputation is out everywhere, except for streaming services Reputation hit shelves and online retailers; a Target exclusive version included a magazine with poems and photos from Swift. She announced 20 days later that Reputation would be available to stream at midnight on Dec. 1. Nov. 11 - SNL Swift plays Saturday Night Live, busting out "...Ready for It?" and an acoustic "Call It What You Want." Nov. 13 - Tonight Show Following the death of Jimmy Fallon's mother, Taylor Swift agreed to appear on The Tonight Show to play a moving version of "New Year's Day." Nov. 20 - Reputation Is No. 1 Swift's Reputation becomes her fifth No. 1 album on the Billboard 200. Reputation notched 2017’s biggest week for an album, as the set earned 1.238 million equivalent album units in the week ending Nov. 16, according to Nielsen Music. Of that sum, 1.216 million were in traditional album sales -- the largest sales frame for an album since 2015. It would hold the No. 1 spot for three weeks. Nov. 28 - Grammy Time The Taylor Swift-penned "Better Man" from Little Big Town is nominated for best country song -- which is a songwriter(s) award, so Swift will get a trophy if it wins. She's also nominated for best song written for visual media for her Zayn collab "I Don't Want to Live Forever." Dec. 1 - Taylors In the Stream Reputation appears on the major streaming services. Dec. 4 2017 - Reputation, but make it fashion (UK Vogue cover) Vogue UK revealed its first cover of the new year would feature Swift. Newly appointed Editor in Chief Edward Enninful styled the singer during his second cover after taking the reigns from Alexandra Shulman. Mert Alas and Marcus Piggott, also photographers for all Reputation visuals, shot the twelve-page spread. Two days later, the high fashion mag revealed a poem Swift wrote exclusively to run with the feature, titled, "The Trick to Holding On." Dec. 6 2017 - Swift is one of Time’s “Silence Breakers” Her summer court case was not meant to be a media spectacle, but it was meant to prove a point with the symbolic $1 request. As Time gave the platform to “The Silence Breakers,” women who helped bring sexual assault and harassment to the forefront of the national conversation, as its 2017 Person of the Year, Swift was among the individuals highlighted. The Time interview is the first time Swift has done press about the court case, and in it she detailed reaching out to Kesha for support, as well as her feelings as she sat in the courtroom. "I was angry. In that moment, I decided to forego any courtroom formalities and just answer the questions the way it happened,” Swift said. “This man hadn’t considered any formalities when he assaulted me, and his lawyer didn’t hold back on my mom -- why should I be polite? I’m told it was the most amount of times the word 'ass' has ever been said in Colorado Federal Court." Dec. 8 2017 - Swift Plays iHeartRadio’s Z100 Jingle Ball in NYC The pre-Super Bowl performance wasn’t her only concert of 2017, after all. Camila Cabello and Lindsay Lohan were Swift’s biggest fans at the show, posting videos dancing the night away to various social media platforms. Dec. 11 - Reputation Continues to Be Big Swift earned her 55th Hot 100 hit with Reputation album track "End Game," featuring rapping from Future, Ed Sheeran and herself. Dec. 13 - B'Day & Tix While some fans were able to buy tickets in advance, the general public tickets for Swift's Reputation Tour went on sale Dec. 13, 2017 -- not coincidentally her 28th birthday. She released a tour trailer to celebrate. Dec. 14 - Still Getting 'Ready' Swift dropped a lyric video for BloodPop's bouncy remix of "...Ready for It?"

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