#put that on an album and give it to a one direction fan and tell them it was an unreleased single

[wildshadowtamer]

i am amazed by how accurate dan and swampy got the lumberzacks to be. like i get chop away at my heart stuck in my head and honest to god think it was a one direction song. truly the boy band hit song of the 2010s

#like the lumberzacks are probably playing off of other boy bands but i read it entirely as one direction #put that on an album and give it to a one direction fan and tell them it was an unreleased single #milo murphy's law #such a good song

[coldfanbou]

Raffle Winner

Time for Day 7 with a blindfolded and almost completely free use Viviz

Length 3K

Viviz x mreader

It was difficult to believe the streak of luck you just had; first, you managed to get into a fansign to meet Viviz, then you won a special raffle they held. You would get your prize at the end, so you just relaxed and enjoyed the fansign for now. When it was your turn to talk to them, Eunha was up first. “Congratulations on your win today.” She chirps, her smile reminding you of a rabbit’s. “I hope you’re looking forward to your prize; it’s something extra special.” SinB elbows Eunha in the side before putting her finger to her lips. “Yah! I wasn’t going to tell him. I just wanted to tell him he should look forward to it,” Eunha whines as she rubs her side. “You didn’t have to hit me.” The eldest member begins to cry crocodile tears, making you laugh along with the other fans. You can hear Eunha kick her feet under the table, the tip taps of her heels hitting the floor. 

You move on to SinB next, and she quickly gets to work signing your album. She glances at you before quietly saying, “You better enjoy your prize. It’s rare.” She says in slight annoyance. Eunha takes her chance and elbows SinB, and Umji gets involved, too, doing the same when SinB turns to the eldest. “Agk, hey!” The two women giggle, seeing SinB get more annoyed. 

“You’re the one who wants to keep quiet, Unnie,” Umji reminds her. Seeing their playful natures in person fills you with joy, and you move on to Umji next. She’s careful to keep the discussion away from the prize; she nervously looks to her side, seeing both Eunha and SinB ready to jump her the moment she says something. You try to drag the conversation in that direction, but Umji manages to escape saying anything. Even though she avoided mention of the prize, Eunha and SinB decide to attack her anyway, poking her sides and making her body jerk in one direction before it jerks another. “I didn’t say anything!” Umji cries as she gets prodded by her members. You laugh at the sight and etch it into your memory before being ushered off the stage. When the fansign finally comes to an end, you’re told to stay a bit longer, and soon enough, a manager comes to get you, leading you backstage.

He knocks on the door, and from the other side, you hear Eunha say they’re ready. He opens the door and closes it behind you. You don’t see anything in the room at first, but turning to the right, you spot them. Eunha, Umji, and SinB are standing before you naked and blindfolded. “Is he in here?” Eunha asks, looking in the direction of her younger members. 

“I am,” You say before either woman can respond.

“Oh, okay. Welcome!” Eunha says, taking a hesitant step forward. 

“Your special prize today is getting to have sex with us,” Umji says, doing the same as Eunha. She slides one foot forward along the floor, trying not to bump into anything.

“For five hours, you can use our bodies as you like. You just can’t hurt us or take any pictures.” SinB says as she steps forward. You nod your head before realizing they can’t see you. You give them an audible response of agreement. Each woman provides small claps before SinB asks who you’d like first. Your reply with Eunha and she thinks about jumping up to cheer, but with the blindfold on, she becomes too scared. As you approach the blindfolded woman, you take in her body. Eunha’s wide hips and thick thighs immediately attract you. Her breasts were probably the biggest of all the members, too. You stand in front of her, and she can feel your presence. 

Starting at her shoulders, you move your hands down her body, feeling her soft flesh. Eunha shivers at your initial touch and giggles. Your hands swiftly moan over her chest and reach her sides; you move them up and down before returning to her breasts, cupping them softly. Eunha gasps softly as she feels your thumbs move in small circular motions around her nipples. The light pink nubs are flicked side to side. Eunha places her hands on your arms. Her small hands squeeze your biceps lightly whenever you flick her nipple with your thumb. Once satisfied, you move your hands down the side of her body again, feeling her smooth skin until you reach the midpoint of her thigh. You squeeze it and hear Eunha moan. You glance at Umji and SinB, seeing a smile on both their faces after hearing their eldest member moan. Pulling your hand away from Eunha’s body, you tell her you forgot to undress. She tries to hold back a laugh and lets go of your arms. You quickly undress before walking over to Umji and SinB and finding them a place to sit while they wait for their turn. With them comfortably sitting, you head back to Eunha. You stand before her and place a hand on her outer thigh. You raise her leg and slide your cock between her lips. Feeling your cock slide between her legs, Eunha begins to moan. 

You whisper to Eunha about how beautiful she is and how much you want her. She nods in response, trying to hold back a moan. She’s slowly getting wet; you feel her cunt coating your cock in her nectar the more you slide between her lips. The small woman’s hands wander your body, trying to learn more about you via touch. You can’t wait any longer. You angle your cock and push the head inside. She gasps when she feels you enter. You push more of your cock in before grabbing her other thigh and lifting her. Eunha immediately wraps her hands around your neck; she casts a wide net so she doesn’t miss you somehow. You shift your hands to her ass as you adjust. It’s soft but still toned from years of dancing. You dig your hands into the soft flesh. Eunha tilts her head back as she moans, leaving it in prime position. You kiss it softly, your tongue licking at her skin. You pull Eunha in close, burying your cock inside the small woman. You both moan. Eunha feels your cock spreading her lips and stretching her; though the pleasure is great, she grinds her hips on you without thinking. “You’re so big.” 

You turn in place to face Umji and SinB, watching the women as they start to play with their bodies. SinB slides her fingertips along her folds while using her other hand to pull on her nipples. Umji does much the same, but she’s more intense about it. She’s slipping her fingers inside every so often, just the very tips of them, before pulling back and tracing her folds. You get harder watching them, and Eunha feels it. You start moving, pushing your cock further in before pulling out slowly. As you do, Eunha lets out a long, drawn-out moan. You enjoy hearing her voice and drive your cock back into her cunt. You feel her walls being split apart as you drive your cock inside. You get a shiver down your spine as your bodies meet. Your hands dig into her as you start thrusting in earnest. Eunha’s modest breasts bounce with every thrust; they mesmerize you. Leaning down, you start sucking on them. Eunha’s moans grow louder as you wrack her body with pleasure. She wraps her legs around you, squeezing your sides.

Umji and SinB’s moans grow louder as they continue to play with themselves. The sounds of Eunha’s moans turned them on. You near your first orgasm; your thrusts bring you and Eunha tremendous pleasure. “Eunha, I’m going to cum.”

Eunha presses her chest against yours, “Cum inside my pussy. Fill me with your love,” She whispers into your ear. Eunha follows that  with a giggle, “Is that what you want to hear?” 

“Yes, yes.” You moan loudly. “Say it again.”

“Give it to me, cum inside me!” Eunha practically shouts. You slam your cock into her and unleash a wave of cum into her cunt. Feeling your hot cum spew into her triggers Eunha’s orgasm. Her legs tighten around you, and you feel her walls clench down on your cock, milking you. You press your head forward and capture her lips. Eunha returns the kiss. Her tongue slips out of her mouth for a second, and you take the chance to meet it. You remain together while your orgasms last. Eunha rocks her hips, giving you both small bits of pleasure. You lift Eunha off your cock and let her down gently. Eunha wobbles on her feet briefly before heading to her members with you. Umji and SinB have continued to tease themselves. Keeping themselves close to cumming but not going through with it. You walk to Umji’s side and take her hand, placing it on your cock. It’s coated in Eunha’s juices and your cum. Umji licks her lips and starts stroking your shaft, covering her hand in the mixture. You get Umji onto her knees, and Eunha takes her seat beside SinB. 

You look down at the blindfolded Umji, watching her stroke your cock. She stops, licking her hand clean. You watch her small tongue gather your cum before drinking it. You get turned on and put your hand on her head, guiding her to your cock. The youngest member follows along and accidentally presses her lips against the head of your cock. She recoils from it. A tiny bit of cum got onto her lips. She licks them and tastes the salty liquid. You guide her back to your cock and watch as she kisses your tip. She grasps your cock gently, her hand glides on your shaft as she strokes you. Umji wraps her lips around the head of your cock; you feel her small tongue take small licks. You groan from the pleasure. Umji takes her time enjoying your cock. She slowly pushes more in your mouth, stopping often to swirl her tongue around your cock. Her small mouth is stretching to fit your size. She suckles on your cock, and as much as you want her to do more, you let Umji work at her pace. Soon enough, she has your cock down her throat; it’s expanded because of your size. You never expected Umji to be so skilled. Umji pulled back to your head and started to bob her head quickly, her tongue running along the underside of your cock as you near your climax. “Umji, I’m going to cum.” She doubles her efforts, placing her hands on your thighs as she rubs the head of your cock with the inside of her cheek. She swallows your cock whole and strokes it quickly as she releases it from her mouth. At your edge, you let go and cum onto Umji’s face. She opens her mouth, some cum lands in it, and Umji enjoys the taste of what she can get. 

You help Umji to her feet before pinning her to the wall; you’re beside Eunha and SinB, who keep themselves on edge. Eunha feeds herself your cum, sucking on her fingers after scooping some out of her cunt. You’re pressing yourself against Umji’s back, feeling her ass rub against you. Placing your cock between her juicy thighs, you start thrusting. Umji moans as your cock rubs against her lips. To give her more, you snake your hand between her body and the wall until you reach her clit. You use your fingertips to rub around it before flicking it quickly. Umji shudders every time you do it. You’re coating Umji’s thighs in cum as you thrust. Umji’s thighs were amazingly soft as they surrounded your cock. She pressed them together, making it that much more pleasurable. You hear Umji whimper as your cock brushes against her lips. “I want it.” She says quietly. You slow down and come to a stop. Moving your hands up, you cup her breasts and squeeze them softly; they were a little smaller than Eunha’s but felt just as nice in your hands.

You align your cock with Umji’s cunt and push in. You feel some resistance as you do. Umji was a bit tighter than Eunha, making it difficult to push your cock in. Still, you manage, Umji groans as you struggle to push more of your cock. Once the head is in, the resistance fades, and you end up ramming your cock deep into Umji’s pussy. Her voice rings throughout the room as she cums from insertion alone. Her body shakes, but you keep her pressed against the wall. Her walls try to milk you, but you’re not close to cumming yet. That being said, the sensation pushes you closer. You give Umji a second to recover before thrusting into her. Her ass presses against you with every thrust; it jiggles as her body lurches a bit. Between you and the wall, Umji’s moans come quicker. “Are you going to cum again?” You ask her.

Umji nods her head quickly, whining as she does. You start thrusting quickly; Umji’s tightening cunt drives you crazy as you feel her walls try to keep you inside. Your quick thrusts are working against you as you’re nearing your climax. “I’m going to cum soon; just hold on.” You moan. Umji cums first, she couldn’t hold on any longer. Her whines bounce off the walls as she milks your cock. This time you bury your cock and give her cunt what it wants. You’re seed spills into her pussy. You both lean against the wall, tired and recovering. You thrust a few more times, and Umji’s walls return the favor by tightening and loosening around you. You pull out slowly, cum runs down Umji’s thighs. You turn her around and kiss her. Her tongue lazily returns the passion you put into the kiss. Umji stumbles to the other members as you aid her. She ends up sitting on Eunha, prompting the elder to feel around Umji’s body as she tries to figure out who’s on top of her.

That left SinB; you had special plans for SinB. You wanted to edge her for the duration you had left. You take her hand and help her up. “I was getting tired of waiting.” She says while continuing to rub her lower lips. You place your hand over hers and push her fingers inside. She moans quietly as if trying to hide them from the others. You smile, and though she can’t see SinB comments about how you must enjoy teasing her. You give her ass a squeeze with your other hand while she speaks. The blindfold looks good on SinB, and you’re tempted to take it off her so she can see what Eunha and Umji have gone through. You don’t, though. You abandon SinB’s hand and let her finger herself while your hands wander over her body, touching every part of her as you stare her up and down.

SinB had the smallest breasts of the bunch, but they suited her.  You take her other hand and place it on your cock. SinB understands quickly, and she jerks you off while fingering herself; she imagines what you plan to do to her, not knowing you would deny her any orgasm. SinB moans a little louder as you kiss her neck. You ask her if she’s going to cum, and she replies with a yes. You pull her hand away and pin her to the wall, kissing her at the same time. You hold the kiss for some time and leave a trail of kisses down SinB’s body, wasting time to make sure her body calms down.

Once you think she’s ready, you place your cock at her entrance. You tell her to lower herself onto your cock, and she does. SinB slowly sinks onto your cock. You feel her walls surround you as she swallows you with ease. Her walls caress every side of your cock and cradle your head as you knock against her womb. You both moan and after a second, you start moving. Every thrust you drive impale SinB with your cock. You enjoy the feeling of her cunt wrapping around you and revel in the knowledge you're going to deny her any orgasm because you find it fun to tease her. SinB holds onto your shoulders as you thrust, gripping you with all her strength. You kiss her to keep her moans muffled. Turning to the others, you see Eunha playing with Umji’s body, fingering the maknae of the group with great eagerness. Your thrusts get more powerful and come quicker until you feel SinB tightening around you. You slow down, bringing the pace back to a crawl. Every thrust still has power behind it, though; you watch SinB’s small tits bounce as you slam your cock into her. She whines about you, slowly down, telling you how close she was. 

Feeling like you could start again, you speed up, making sure SinB got to feel the pleasure of being fucked. SinB lifts her leg and places it on your shoulder, allowing it deeper. You begin to near your climax, and SinB knows it. She can feel your cock twitching inside her. “Why don’t you cum inside me?” She says to you. She’s trying to goad you into continuing and making her cum too. You consider it. “Breed me, make me a mommy.” She whispers. SinB is saying whatever she needs to in order to get her orgasm. Her words turn you on, and you repeatedly drive your cock into SinB. 

It’s at that moment there’s a knock on the door. “Your time is up. I’ll let you get ready,” says a staff member. You turn back to SinB and pull out without either getting to cum. SinB complains about being the only one that didn’t get to orgasm. She removes her blindfolds and sees Eunha and Umji filled with your cum. 

“What if you came back with us to our dorm?” She asks.

“Really?” 

“Yes, I won’t spend the night frustrated because I didn’t get to cum.” She replies. You happily agree; excited that you’ll get more time with Viviz.

#kpop smut #male reader #m reader #viviz smut #eunha smut #umji smut #sinb smut

[runningfrom2am]

kinda famous - d.s

summary: after your debut album charts in the top 100, you somehow get invited to the obx3 premiere. you went there to make connections- but maybe not the exact kind you ended up leaving with.

wc: 2.6k

tags/warnings: no warnings! just a meet-cute :), drew x musician!reader

requests

nav/masterlists

February 16th, 2023

Not a day went by this past year where you didn't consider yourself incredibly lucky. Your debut album saw some medial success, landing you in the Spotify top one hundred with the help of a TikTok trend to some of the lyrics from your first single. You could hardly believe it was real, sometimes. What always helped, however, is having connections.

Your best friend was a makeup artist to the stars. Working on movies like Avatar and even a few marvel films, but most notably and most recently, she's been working with Madelyn Cline. They've taken a liking to each other, having been in touch about every event, shoot, and movie she's been working on in hopes of having her new friend styling her look for the occasion. Luckily for you, your best friend is your number one fan- and hardly ever does she have a client who isn't forced to sit through your album while she's blending out the makeup on their faces or curling their hair.

Madelyn, apparently, had taken a liking to it. In the words of your best friend, "She was just gushing over it! She requests your music every time she's in my chair. I swear." So that, is how you ended up at the OBX3 premiere, shaking hands with one of the most beautiful actresses of your generation while she complimented both your dress and your music.

"I am seriously such a big fan. B/F/N put me on and I am literally obsessed." Madelyn smiles, dropping your hand.

"Oh my god, you're such a sweetheart- stop." You laugh, waving her off.

She smiles and leans in, resting her hand on your shoulder as she whispers in your ear. "Between us, I can't confirm anything just yet, but I'm working on getting you a soundtrack offer for season four."

You gasp, your hands flying up to cover your mouth to hide your shock. "No- you're literally joking!"

The blonde smiles and shakes her head, giggling and clapping her hands together excitedly. "We all listen to you on set- it's growing on the producers I think."

"Oh my god- Obviously I am so down! Allegedly, of course." You smile, winking at her.

"Yes, of course, Allegedly." She laughs, matching your wink. "I have to run, but we'll jump in for some photos together on the carpet, yeah?" Madelyn grins, giving you a quick hug and brushing past you in the direction of the curtain where everyone lines up for photos.

Feeling absolutely giddy, you're quick to lift your dress and shuffle over to the makeup room, where B/F/N was still working with some other clients doing some touch ups. "Oh my god!" You smile as you approach her chair, where she's just wiping up. You cringe internally at the sound of your music playing over her desk speaker, hearing the way you swore that the man you wrote this song about was the love of your life, and you'd be a fool to let him go. It wasn't long after the release that you ended up having to, discovering he was cheating on you with a girl from his hometown.

"Y/N! Hey girl! Did you get to talk to Mads?" She asks, looking back at you over her shoulder.

"Yes! And I have some serious tea to tell you later. Well- not serious, but good! It's definitely tea." You explain vaguely, knowing she'll understand.

"Yay! Okay, we'll debrief after." She nods. "Did you talk to anyone else?"

You instantly shake your head as she turns to face you. "God, no, I'm petrified." She doesn't answer, holding her finger up in your face and digging through her kit and pulling out a brush.

"Look up." She says, pointing to the ceiling and you oblige as she touches up the shadow under your eyes and brushes away some flaked mascara while she talks. "You need to. You've got to make some more connections- I can't carry you forever." She teases, placing the brush back in her belt when she's done. "They're a lovely cast, trust me."

You nod a little, taking a deep breath. "I just like... don't know what to do. Do I just walk around and talk to people?"

"That's the beauty of it! You're already doing it. Just show that stunning face of yours to the cameras with this beautiful dress, smile, make small talk, and opportunity will fall into your lap. I know you- everyone will love you regardless." She muses, quickly adjusting the waistline of your dress. "And report back to me- of course."

"You're not gonna come? I want some pictures with you. The world needs to see the artist behind this face." You grin, gesturing to your face of makeup and wiggling your eyebrows.

"Yes, of course." She giggles, smacking your shoulder playfully. "I'll change and come find you."

You smile and clap your hands together, bouncing in your heels. "Let's go together! I think I have to because I'm basically your plus one."

"No- absolutely not." She dismisses you quickly, closing up part of her kit and doing some quick organization. "You, my dearest Y/N, need to prove your independence in the industry. Just because you put out your Lover Era album doesn't mean you can't stand proudly on your own after the breakup. Your energy will draw all the cute boys to you. I just know it." She jokes at the end, but you know she's serious about her sentiment.

Your breakup wasn't fresh anymore- she was right. It didn't hurt and keep you up all night over heartache that you had assumed would never get better. You're thriving now, you feel like yourself again. "That's not why I'm here and you know that." You giggle.

"Of course not... It just would be a nice bonus." She shrugs. "Now shoo! You're distracting me. I'll see you in a few." She pushes you away, winking at you before returning to her cleanup duties.

You take a few breathes as you turn around, making a conscious effort to smile as you walk over to the curtain where crew is organizing people and sending them out onto the carpet.

Luckily, you spot the bar not far away, and quickly make your way over to grab a quick glass of wine before you have to step out. You try to sip on it casually, not wanting to draw attention to yourself, but craving the buzz and freedom that comes with being a little tipsy around strangers.

"You're Y/N L/N, right?" Someone approaches you, and you quickly turn to the source of the voice.

"Yes, that's me." You smile, securing your glass in one hand before holding out your hand to shake. The woman takes it, smiling politely as she shakes it.

"Lovely. We're ready for you whenever, just go check in with that lovely gentleman by the curtain and you're free to walk when you're ready." The woman smiles, quickly taking off to go deal with more crew business.

You lean back against the bar, nursing your drink still and glancing in the direction of the dressing rooms and hoping your best friend would walk out in time to join you. You give it another minute as you finish your drink, feeling adequately warmed by the alcohol in your system before approaching the curtain.

"Hey! Nice to meet you, I'm Y/N L/N." You greet the man with the clip board and he nods, giving you a thumbs up and holding the curtain back for you to step out. You take deep breaths and focus on smiling (and not tripping) as you take the few extra paces behind a wall before you'll be in view of the many cameras you can already see flashing at the cast and their friends standing already in their full view. You hear lots of voices as you walk up, but they somehow get a million times louder as you step into the lights.

This isn't your first red carpet, but it is your first premiere. Besides the backdrop curtain, they have a variety of props from the show, including the Twinkie itself, making you giddy with excitement. You make a mental note to yourself to not leave without a picture of you behind the wheel for your instagram.

"Y/N! Look over here!" You hear a dozen voiced calling your name and you decide your best move is to smile and wave, stopping and placing one hand on your hip and just glancing across the whole crowd of camera men and interviewers behind the small fence. You give it a few moments to capture hopefully enough photos for their portfolios before an interviewer pulls you over to chat with them.

"Y/N! So nice to meet you. You look absolutely stunning!" They grin, shaking your hand and holding the mic up to your lips.

"Hello! And thank you so much! It's lovely to meet you too. What's your name?" You ask, smiling at them and giving a quick wave to the cameras still flashing in your face as they record you with one closer up.

"I'm Noah. I'm with Netflix just documenting everyone here tonight." He grins. "So, we were all excited to hear you would be coming tonight! Are you a fan of the show?"

"Oh my god, I'm a huge fan." You gush, looking around at the other people on the carpet. "I was just so lucky to be invited- I was ecstatic when I got the invitation from Madelyn. So nervous, though. So, so nervous."

"I can't imagine!" He chuckles, agreeing with you. "If it makes you feel any better, we've heard from a few members of the cast that they were looking forward to meeting you."

"That does actually help a lot, thank you." You giggle, a blush covering your cheeks. "You mind telling me who, though? I'd love to know who wants to talk to me and who I should probably not bother." You joke.

"Oh, nobody to avoid here. This is one of the nicest casts I've ever worked with." Noah assures you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "That being said, the boys seemed extra keen." He winks, making you laugh.

"Oh god, okay, I'll keep that in mind." You go along with it, looking around and seeing the rest of the cast goofing off a little ways away.

"So, I have to ask, Y/N- keep in mind you don't have to answer if you don't want to, about your breakup- how are you doing? Your album is absolutely amazing, you told a beautiful story, but we've all heard about what happened afterwards." He says, and you glance down nervously, trying to maintain your smile as best you can.

"Yeah, totally. Uh-" You pause for a second. Your ex has never been in the public eye- you were highschool sweethearts, which gave your album a sense of purity and authenticity that was almost rare in modern music. With that, however, comes a responsibility to keep him out of public scandal in the fallout of the albums success. "I am doing really well. I believe my ex is as well. Of course he was always a huge inspiration for me, and he always supported me and my dreams, so I know he's still cheering me on, which is a nice feeling." You nod, smiling as Noah drops his arm from around your shoulders, patting your back.

“Well, you’re stronger than I am because I would want him to be punching the air right now.” Noah laughs.

“No! God, no, I’d never want that for him. I wish him all the success in the world, which just means something different for both of-“ You try to explain, when you get bumped from behind and stumble slightly forward. You let out a little squeak and try to turn to look what happened when someone steadies you by your waist.

“Sorry, sweetheart. Didn’t mean to knock you there.” A man chuckles, making sure you’re steady before letting you go. You’re met with blue eyes that reflect the lights and the matching colour of his suit just beautifully, and you quickly recognize him as Rafe- quickly racking your brain for the actors name. Drew- yes. That’s it.

“No! No you’re fine- I was in the way.” You say sheepishly, laughing it off and adjusting your dress again.

“Drew, Welcome back! While I’ve got you both here,” Noah says, holding the microphone up to him as he nods, leaning down a little in anticipation of the question. “Have you listened to Y/N’s album? We were just talking about it.”

Drew nods, smiling and locking eyes with you again briefly. “Yes, of course. It’s both Maddie’s favourites right now, they’ve always got it playing on set. If it wasn’t so good I’d be sick of it.” He chuckles.

“Aw- thank you!” You grin. “Thanks for listening even if it’s against your will.” Your eyes connect again and you feel yourself blushing once more, he just has this aura about him that shows he’s really listening and really cares what you have to say. “Not to plug it here or anything, but we’re almost at ten million streams on spotify so I’m feeling really proud of it, it truly was a passion project for me. Sorry…” You explain, looking back at the interviewer again, trailing off when you realize you’re acting selfishly.

“No, don’t apologize. You worked hard on it- you deserve to talk about it.” Drew cuts in before Noah can speak. “Everyone stream it- you won’t regret it.” He says, pointing to the camera.

“Yes, absolutely.” Noah agrees. “We won’t take up any more of your time, but I’ll let you know we’re all looking forward to your next album already.” He smiles, giving you a quick hug.

“Thank you!” You wave as him and his crew are quick to move onto someone else. You take a deep breath, turning and jumping slightly when you see Drew still standing there, looking down at you as you clasp your hand against your chest. “Oh, gosh. I didn’t know you were still there.” You giggle, quickly adjusting your hair.

“Sorry.” Drew chuckles, holding his hand out to you. “We haven’t properly met. I’m Drew. Or you might know me as Rafe, I guess.”

You smile, taking his hand and shaking it. “Y/N. You might know me as the girl who got cheated on right after releasing an album about how amazing her relationship is.”

This makes him laugh, dropping his head back as he lets go of your hand. “Hey, it’s good to have a sense of humour about it I guess.” He says, locking eyes with you again. His charisma is truly captivating- it’s rare you meet someone in the Hollywood scene who seems to care about anyone other than themselves.

“I’m coping.” You shrug, laughing it off with him.

“Let’s grab a few pictures together, then maybe a drink?” Drew suggests, guiding you back towards where the rest of the cast was taking photos with the beat-up van parked on the carpet. “I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

“Yeah! Yeah- thank you.” You smile, glancing over your shoulder and seeing your best friend stepping out. She quickly waved at you, giving you an excited look and a thumbs up, which you return behind his back.

No doubt the pictures of this moment will embarrass you tomorrow, but at least the debrief with your best friend in the uber home will have a lot of good things to cover.

taglist: @slut4drudy , @madelynie , @mutual-mendes , @sadfury (i just tagged some mutuals who like my other stuff so if you want to be added or removed lmk!!)

reblogs and feedback are very appreciated as always :)

#rafe cameron #obx fanfic #obx #outer banks #rafe obx #rafe cameron x oc #rafe fanfiction #rafe fic #drew starkey #drew starkey fic #drew starkey fanfic #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey blurb #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey x female reader #drew starkey x you

[joesalw]

Not her coming out with an album with a long ass title. She wants to be Lana so bad. SZA was robbed for AOTY, Kelly Clarkson was robbed for best pop VOCAL album (I mean, c'mon now).

Scammys are constantly snubbing Black creators in the major categories. Only 3 black women have won AOTY in the 66 years of the Grammys existence. Two of those albums were cover albums of mainly white acts ( Unforgettable...with Love by Natalie Cole and The Bodyguard Soundtrack by Whitney Houston). The last BW that won AOTY was Lauryn Hill's "The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill" which won 25 YEARS AGO.Even Mariah Carey hadn't won this category. What baffles me the most is the fact that the most awarded artist in the Grammys history hadn't won a single one AOTY and only has 1 (ONE!) award from the big 4 (Record of the year, Song of the Year, Album of the year and best new artist). She'd won it for Single Ladies. Out of all the hit songs she has, that was the only one that got awarded (imo one of her worst songs).

Renaissance got snubbed last year. And this year we see a tendency of streaming artists (Ariana's newest song comes to mind first) following the Renaissance's sound and house music's becoming trendy again. The Grammy voters even said 'We didn't vote for Beyonce on AOTY because she's won too many already'. Too many my ass. This woman's won only one Grammy outside of the genre category. And the genre categories they put black and brown people in are truly outrageous. No matter what they do, no matter how many new sounds and sub genres they invent, they will always be boxed into R&B and Urban categories. I mean, her country song from 'Lemonade' album 'Daddy Lessons' got snubbed in the country category and got rejected a nomination for being 'not country enough'. Bitch, please. From the first five seconds it's obvious to even non-country listener that it in fact, is a country song. And people that vote for this stuff are supposedly professional musicians and music experts. These same people box The Weeknd's music into R&B categories when he's clearly making pop music.

Jay-Z's speech was just a cherry on top for me. After Swift in her acceptance speech said that " I want to say 'thank you' to the members of the recording academy for voting this way but I know that the way that the recording academy voted is a direct reflection of the passion of the fans" while smugly polishing the Grammy, this man went on stage to get his lifetime achievement thingy and completely obliterated the same institution that Swift was ass kissing just a few minutes prior. He went on and said: " We want y'all to get it right. At least get it close to right. And obviously it's subjective because it's music and it's opinion based. [About his wife] She has more Grammys than everyone and never won AOTY so even by your own metrics that doesn't work. Think about that: the most Grammys, never won AOTY. That doesn't work. Some of you are going to go home tonight and feel like you've been robbed. Some of you may get robbed, some of you don't belong in the category. *everyone gags* No, no. When I get nervous... I tell the truth. But outside of that, we got to keep showing up. And forget the Grammys for a second, just in life, you gotta keep showing up until they give you all those accolades you feel you deserve, until they call you chairman, until they call you a genius, until they call you the greatest of all time". To me that sounds like "POC have to work twice as hard to get half as far". Not a big Jay fan but the speech was great. I'm sure he got his ass whooped on the way home for saying that.

Then the Grammys have proven him right by celebrating white mediocrity by giving Midnights AOTY. The outrageous thing is, only three Black women have won AOTY, she now has four. And many talented black people don't have a single one. The bodies of work that transcend genres, cultures and languages. The bodies of work that have much better musical components and lyrical content. The bodies of work that can stand the test of times and sound fresh and new even 10 years after their release. Artists that aren't afraid to step out of their comfort zone, experiment with genres (Whatever Swift calls 'experiments' don't go outside of the pop genre (Country-pop (Red), synth-pop (1989, Lover), electropop (rep, Lover), acoustic pop and alt-pop (Folkmore)). Beyonce, Kendrick Lamar, TLC, Missy Elliott, Usher, Kanye (his artistic side), Alicia Keys, Lil Wayne, Frank Ocean, and many more black music creators deserve their flowers. They are the ones that are inventing new shit and setting trends in various genres of music, they are the ones that put the most effort into their presentation and live performances. I'm sick and tired of the major showbiz institutions overlooking black, brown, asian, indigenous excellence. These people deserve to be rewarded for their hard work in the same capacity these institutions reward white (anglo) people. I'm sick of people celebrating white mediocrity and overlooking art of different cultures, ethnicities, races.

Now she's gonna be insufferable for at least another year. I've been listening and enjoying her music for the past 5-6 years (not a fan but a casual listener) for the lyrical content of her songs but she's not a poet in any way. Lana's been a staple for me in that regard. And the fact that she dragged her on stage to have that "Adele to Beyonce" moment just gave me the ick. I wouldn't be surprised if Swifties are taking Jay-Z's speech as a sub for TS's wins (haven't gone on twitter yet). I mean, if the shoe fits. Also wouldn't be surprised if she herself took it as a jab to her ego. She's also clearly drunk and possibly on some ❄️ (just my opinion). The only deserved AOTY she has is the Folklore one. And don't get me started on her EMMY win. The fact that a visual masterpieces like Lemonade and Homecoming lost to Carpool Karaoke is absolutely absurd to me. Also the fact that her visual album for her "Lion King" project wasn't even nominated when every single one of those in the category were comedy specials is especially infuriating (If anyone's interested, some of the music videos are up on Youtube). And Swift comes along and swoops up hers in a bullshit category with no actual nominees? Nah, things don't work like that. Or at least, they shouldn't.

Anyway, SZA and Lana were robbed. Victoria Monet's won Best New Artist, Miley got her first win, Phoebe Bridgers went home with the most wins of the night and everyone only talks about Taylor Swift. I'm patiently waiting for the tower to fall. She desperately needs a reality check. This drunkard didn't even acknowledge Celine Dion who handed her the award. I mean, she didn't even look at her. But proceeded to have a cringe and unnecessary handshake with Jack Antonoff. You're in a professional setting, behave like an adult and save those handshakes for the afterparty or do it behind the stage after giving a speech. She proceeded to drag Lana on stage to the point where she was trying not to fall. At this point I'm convinced that swifties have brainwashed her into the thinking that the nicest thing she can do for someone is grace them with her presence. Ana Clara's family serves as a great example.

Her hair was a miss, she looked like she was wearing a wedding gown and the black gloves didn't help. Her make up made her look old. Her accessories were excessive and tacky and it looked like she was also wearing hip pads, shoes were giving late 00s-early 10s. Overall, fire the whole styling team. You're a global superstar that's a billionaire and you look cheap as fuck.

TL;DR : She shouldn't have won. Lana and SZA were robbed. She once again made the night about herself and her narcissism peaked in the moments where she'd accepted her awards. Black creators are criminally overlooked. She ass kissed the grammy voters and Jay-Z shamed them just a few minutes later and was right. She needs to get rid of her stylist, hair stylist and make up artist. Another drunk award show. Beyonce should have at least one AOTY. Sick and tired of people celebrating white mediocrity in show business.

Sorry for the long ass paragraph, just felt like it was a safe space to vent 💜

you guys can vent all you want. I'm here for it🤏

#anti taylor swift #swifties dni #scammys

[kpop]

K-Pop Spotlight: NAYEON

A new princess of pop is here and ready for her time in the limelight. After almost seven years as the eldest member of TWICE, NAYEON is releasing her first solo album—a self-titled EP that explores confidence, individuality, and growth. We caught up with NAYEON to talk about these themes, her favorite album looks, and her travel dreams ahead of the release of her new album and music video. Check out our full interview below!

Congrats on your first solo album and new single, POP! What does this release mean for your artistic direction, and what kind of music do you want to release in the future?

This album represents the beginning of another chapter of TWICE and potential for further growth. Because it’s our first solo album after 7 years since the debut, I hope this album works as a starting point of discovering individual member’s capabilities. Even though we’ve released a lot of albums over the last 7 years, we always put our full effort into facing new challenges. This being said, I’d like to keep on releasing music that surprises our fans. 

How would you describe the difference between solo NAYEON and TWICE’s NAYEON?

The main difference is filling the music with my own voice, instead of 9 voices. Another difference was whether or not I have 8 other members who have the same opinion as I do. However, because the members stood by my side throughout the whole album preparation, supporting me and cheering me on, I didn’t feel alone. 

What was your favorite look from your album shoots? 

My favorite one was the pink dress with a tiara. The image of looking at myself in the mirror during the shoot and holding the bear was lovely, and the overall atmosphere of the jacket shooting site was fun as well.

What words of advice do you think current NAYEON would give rookie NAYEON? How do you think she’d feel about releasing a solo album?

Rookie NAYEON would have never imagined that she’d be releasing her own solo album. One advice I would give to her is to be herself and let her know that she’s on the right path, making the right decisions. There is nothing I’d like to change about her.

If you could drop everything and hop on a flight anywhere in the world, where would you go, who would you go with, and what activities would you try?

Right now, I’d love to go to an island where there’s no one around with TWICE members, just resting and having a great time together.

Tell us a little about your collaborations on this album. What was it like working with some familiar faces from JYP?

I love both Felix and Wonstein’s voices and felt that their collaborations completed each song. I actually ran into Felix once after our collaboration, so I told him how lovely the song turned out to be.

Lightning round: you’re creating your own Tumblr blog. What’s your aesthetic, what would your username be, and would you be a frequent poster or a lurker?

I would post photo diaries: on the days I’d like to remember, I would post photos and leave a short message about the day. I don’t think I’m the type who’s sentimental or too serious. My nickname would be “ㅋㅋㅋ”, which is hahaha in Korean.

Want more from NAYEON? Check out her first solo album, “IM NAYEON”, and the music video for POP! here!

#nayeon #kpop spotlight #nayeon kpop spotlight

[believesthings]

The inspiration invitation // Jason sudeikis x famous reader

As a joke, you started to separate your songs into two folders: love songs for Jason and sexy songs for Jason.

You kept it going though, cause it made you laugh.

Your label was pressuring you for just one more song to round out your new album and you’ve been struggling with it all week. They weren’t wrong. You did agree it was missing just a little something. The trouble was finding the perfect song to fill its spot.

As cliche as it sounds, this was the album that you were the most proud of. You know every artist says that about every new album they release, but it really didn’t feel like an exaggeration to you to say that this was your best.

You really pushed yourself lyrically and vocally to a space you haven’t before and you hope your fans love it as much as you.

The problem, of course, is that since you’ve pushed yourself lyrically, you have a very specific story you want to tell. Every song on the album is perfectly placed to unfold the story in the direction you want and trying to not only find a new song to fit the theme but also a perfect place to put it so it still flows is proving to be one hell of a task.

Two doors down, your boyfriend was in a similarly stressful boat. Jason has been tied to the editing chair for weeks. The first two seasons happened prior to all the awards. Now that the show had turned out to be far more successful than anyone could have predicted, the pressure was on to make a 3rd and final season that was worthy of the praise the show had received so far. Taking off his headphones and taking his hands through his hair, he determined he needed a break; as much as he instinctively wanted to keep going until something was perfect, he had to acknowledge that sometimes the best thing to do was walk away and come back with fresh eyes.

You were so focused on your own project that you barely even registered jason sitting down next to you until he start kissing your shoulder blade.

“Are those folders for me?”

“What?” You ask, not looking up from your own screen.

“I wanna see.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be working?” You ask Jason, tearing your eyes away and finally looking at him. God he was a sight.

“I’m taking something called a break, you’re probably overdue for one yourself.” He teased you.

“I know. And I will - I promise. I’ve just found a really good groove and I didn’t want to lose it.”

He rubs circles into your thigh. “…maybe the answer is in one of those folders.”

You laugh at him. “Oh, you think so?”

He nods seriously at you, “I can help you sort through them, If you need any help.”

You grab his hand from your thigh, intertwining your fingers in his and giving a light kisses to his knuckles. “You’re really not gonna let this go are you?”

“Well, can you blame me? I see folders with my name and the words ‘sexy and love’ obviously, I’m going to be intrigued.”

You put your laptop off to the side, snuggling into Jason. “Well, you’re obviously the only man I’m writing songs about these days-“

“damn right.” Jason quips, smirking at you.

Rolling your eyes you continue, “and my manager always likes to tease me that I have two moods for you which is disgustingly in love and disgustingly horny, so - as a joke, I started separating all my songs into those two categories. I keep doing it though cause it’s fun.”

“So, what mood is winning right now?”

picking your laptop back up, you open up the folders giving a quick scan at the numbers. Jason peaks over your shoulder, surprised by how many songs there actually are. Some titles he recognizes, some he’s never seen. It’s one of those moments, that might seem small and inconsequential but it feels oddly special to him. To have someone here, in his home, that spends their time trying to put him into words. Everyone always thinks that the big PDA moments are the sweetest, but he’s discovered that a lot of those experiences are filled with belonging but not with love.

“Looks like love songs has the lead right now.”

Wiggling his eyebrows at you, he replies, “really? Well I’d be more than happy to help in the sexy department if you need some inspiration.”

“I’m supposed to be working.”

“This is work! I’m giving you inspiration to write another song for your album, so you can add a sixth Grammy to that collection in the bedroom.”

“I thought you were taking a break.” You question him.

“Oh, pretty girl, spending time with you is not work to me.” He snags your laptop out of your lap and is quickly picking you up off the couch. He gives you just enough to time to get your bearings before he’s kissing you and leading you into the bedroom.

In between kisses on your neck, he’s whispering to you, “you know, I read somewhere that you shouldn’t wait for inspiration, sometimes inspiration needs to be invited. So, what do you think? Are you up for inviting me to inspire you?”

“Of course I am Jason. Always.”

He tilts his head to the side nonchalantly. “Still doesn’t hurt to ask.”

He lays you down on the bed and your head turns over to see his own laptop sitting in the corner. Remnants of your man hard at work. Headphones, an open journal with a red pen resting on it’s open pages.

“Hey.” He says tilting your head back to look him in the eyes. “This is about you right now - my work will still be there when I’m done. If it makes you feel better, since I’m helping you, you can always help me with my work too.”

“What? Jason I don’t know anything about editing a television show!”

“So?” That’s okay. I don’t really feel like I do either most days.” He jokes.

You go quiet, reaching your fingers up and playing with the drawstrings of his hoodie. “If I did offer to help, does that mean that I could get a sneak peak into season 3, maybe even-“

“No. Sorry can’t do it.”

“Oh come on! Can’t you at least give me a release date?”

“Sorry, you’re just gonna have to wait like everyone else.”

“Man, what good is sleeping with the boss if it doesn’t get me anything?” You pout at him.

“Oh now that isn’t true. I think we’ve clearly established that sleeping with the boss gets you Grammy award winning songs. So, come on let’s write you another one.”

#jason sudeikis #jason sudeikis x reader #jason sudeikis rpf #fluff #jason sudeikis fluff #jason sudeikis fanfiction #jason sudeikis fanfic #jason sudeikis fic #rpf #jason sudeikis blurb

[lovecanyon]

JAMES CORDEN HELPS HARRY STYLES AND Y/N L/N MAKE A MUSIC VIDEO

dad!harry x reader

MASTERLIST

-

"We’re here in Brooklyn, New York with Harry Styles and Y/N soon to be Styles."

Both Harry and Y/N make eye contact and laugh. James puts his hands on his hips as he looks at the couple with squinted eyes.

"I will not third wheel today." James jokes making Harry and Y/N laugh even harder. "I will not! Stop laughing!" He playfully glares at the couple.

"If I’m with you two, then I’m pretty sure I’m gonna be the one third wheeling." Y/N mumbles, crossing her arms. James and Harry look at each other and smile.

"Pretty much." Harry nods.

"So we have three hours, three hundred dollars to shoot a music video for Harry’s new album. Now we have no locations, we don’t know what we’re doing, we don’t know where we’re shooting it." James explains to Harry and Y/N. "But we are gonna give it our best try." He smiles which makes them look nervous.

"We will try." Y/N smiles as Harry nods along to her words.

"Yeah." Harry nervously agrees.

-

After one failed attempt of a stranger giving up their home, the next try was more successful. A group of girls opened up the door and widened their eyes at the sight of James. Harry was up against the wall with Y/N hiding. He had his arm tightly wrapped around her waist so she wouldn’t be seen.

"You both could come out now."

All the girls immediately gasped at the sight of Y/N and Harry which made James roll his eyes.

"I didn't get that type of reaction." He grumbles.

"May we film a music video here?" Y/N asks one of the girls. Swiftly she gets a bunch of nods in response. To be honest, the girls thought they were dreaming, Y/N and Harry Styles in their apartment didn't feel real.

"Can we take a look around?" James questions. Once they get permission to look around, they find a closet full of party supplies which James screams excitedly at.

While Harry and James were looking for props, Y/N went to look around in the bedrooms. What she didn't expect to find was a Harry Potter version of Harry, painting. Or a One Direction perfume. In her opinion she thought it was amazing that they were fans of Harry.

"Why do I love that." Y/N points to the perfume. James soon comes into the room followed by one of the girls. Immediately he notices the Harry Potter painting hung up.

"Oh my god. We need to hide all of this, I'm worried you're a psychopath." James jokes which makes Y/N and the girl laugh. "Harry don't come in here!" He shouts.

-

"I'm thinking this is a bathroom shot. Harry you in the bath, Y/N on the ledge." James explains his idea as he enters the bathroom followed by Harry and Y/N.

Once Harry was in the tub and Y/N was sat on the ledge, James turns off the lights and starts a fan that had a assortment of colorful lights attached to it. Before the music starts James tells Y/N and Harry how to act.

They had to act "awkward" with each other. Pretend their friends locked them in a bathroom together at a party.

"You guys don’t know each other. Harry you’re dedicating a whole song to her, just gawk at her like usual. And Y/N you hate Harry." James tells Y/N and Harry which makes them laugh. "Enemies to lovers type. Now act like it! Play the track, start the track!"

Daylight starts to play as Y/N bites her lip to suppress a smile.

"Act hot, both of you. You know the worlds gonna go insane when this comes out." James calls out.

Daylight, you got me cursing the daylight

Daylight, you got me cursing the daylight

As Harry sings along Y/N is instructed to stare down at him. When they make eye contact they burst out laughing making James playfully groan.

"Alright. Get up! Get up!"

The girls and James then began to decorate the apartment leaving Y/N and Harry in the bathroom talking.

"I was in a Christopher Nolan movie. Now this is my dressing room." Harry says, looking around the bathroom. Y/N let’s out a cackle as Harry turns to her.

"And I was just having your kids yesterday." Y/N shrugs.

-

After having confetti thrown at their faces, hauled to the roof by James wearing a green suit and impersonating Mick Jagger, Y/N and Harry were now sat on the couch surrounded by the girls who owned the apartment waiting for their friends to arrive.

Y/N knew their friends were here once she heard a few screams. It made her smile they way, they freaked out over Harry.

"Stop! Stop! I will have you removed!" James yells making Y/N laugh. When Harry stands up he grabs Y/N’s hand pulling her up with him. "Say a proper hi and keep it together. I will tase you. I will tase you."

Harry and Y/N greet the people that had just walked in which made them feel like they were dreaming. Harry Styles and Y/N L/N in a their friends New York apartment? That sentence seemed like a joke.

But it was real.

"So we’re having a party! Don’t treat Harry and Y/N like Harry and Y/N. Treat them like…you know someone called Chris and Heather." James shrugs his shoulders.

Daylight begins to play again as everyone becomes to dance including Harry holding a zebra stuffed animal.

Soon the doorbell rings making James drag Y/N with him to the door. After the door is open it reveals the pizza delivery guy who looked nervous. It made Y/N wanna laugh.

"Wait you know what. Come in, we need you." James calls back the guy, bringing him inside the apartment.

"Is it to late to do carpool karaoke?"

-

tag list : @harrysmatcha @harryspinkpillow @helen-with-an-a @florencepughily @peterparkerbae @toji-dabi-wife @fallonx @drphilssoulmate @cherriesrae @alienorknight @valluvsu @ivegotparticulartaste @ayeshathestyles @hazgoldenstyles @eiffelmezarry @tsukishimawhore @renatavieira @michellekstyles @eleanordaisy @shawnsblue @academiaghosts @japanchrry @agustdpeach @hannahnikohl @hrryscherrys @whoscamila @ch3rryrry @msolbesg @newyorker14 @futuristicpalacegardenpsychic @youusunshineyoutemptress @eunoiamaa @kaitieskidmore1 @gublerscherry @cherryfragrancx @ssuziess @milkiane @teenidlemuse @golden-hoax @flwrmuse @leah2002 @sunshinemendes8 @your--sweetest--downfall @melllinaa @iluvjj @bisouma @tenaciousperfectionunknown @vodka-is-gay-and-so-am-i @cashtons-wife @harryistheonlyoneforme

#harry styles x reader #dad!harry #harry styles #harry styles au #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #boyfriend!harry #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fan fic #harry styles blurb

[thedroloisms]

like ultimately speaking i don't even think that public discussions into the identity of shubble's ex are that necessary. at a certain point i think it's up to personal discretion, especially in terms of different platforms - for example, having a certain amount of discretion when it comes to spaces where it's more likely for shubble to see. that being said, at a certain point, it was obvious that the calls to Not Speculate, to Not Bring Up Him why are you saying his name he doesn't have to do with this i'm going to wait until shubble makes a statement if she wanted us to know then she'd say his name :) were doing a shit ton more harm than good?

like, shubble wasn't making an accusation. why people were flat out expecting her to say more in itself is beyond me. at the end of the day, people's willingness to continue supporting a content creator is a personal decision - shelby certainly wasn't trying to frame her stream as an allegation with proof. it was an ancedote about a personal experience with relevant details. along that same note, taking up pitchforks and banging on the door of the person in question is ??? again, the stream was hardly framed as an accusation & proof, and that was on purpose. whether or not one believes that he deserves a platform, with the great pains that shelby has taken in order to keep themselves from directly pointing at any specific person and making a direct accusation, brigading in their name in ways meant to directly attack the person in question feels...distasteful, literally for her sake.

like, any fan is capable and has the right to withdraw their support at any time, and giving other people reasons to withdraw their support isn't wrong either, as stating one's opinion is obviously perfectly fine. but uhhhh direct attacks without an explicit accusation being made are a bit of a different story.

but back to the first point, watching people in real time go Oh Don't Bring Up [Name] Sweaty :) was ???? like, it's impossible to go without acknowledging that if it wasn't him, that the amount of coincidences between her ex and the cc would be EXTREMELY high. "there's millions of ccs in england" and shubble was spending hours a day and in the apartment of every single one of them??? like be fucking fr??? this isn't even a case of it's a 50/50 between him and some other guy just based on the number of coincidences as described by shelby's one (1) stream alone, not to mention the corroborating evidence of things like the year's worth of content they produced with each other in recent years. and like, the literal album. which meant that even with the extremely likely possibility of him being the person, people were fucking tripping over themselves to scream NOT TO SPECULATE !!! DONT SAY IT'S [NAME] !!! to the point where when i clicked on the trending tab, tweets along those lines made up at least half if not more of the results. tweets she clearly saw, based on statements by her and her mods. like, look, even if the calls not to speculate came from a place of good intentions, they were all getting swallowed up by the noise of people explicitly telling other people Out Loud not to bring up the possibility of the man who was very likely the person she was talking about as being her ex - all while claiming to speak in her name #believevictims [words they continue to put in her mouth].

like, yeah, when you're going DONT TALK ABOUT HIM!!!!! this totally looks like you care about her and her story and not like a silencing tactic.

#abuse #not saying his name directly literally just out of personal preference #but you know it's so fascinating how even from the people who were claiming that the priority should have been to Support Shelby #most of what i saw from them was just screaming at people not to speculate? #like you can just not put your attention on the conversation revolving around the identity of her abuser and just #literally just make a tweet supporting her. like your continued focus on the conversation about speculation to the point #where both his and her names' on the trending tabs were literally just different sides of that argument over and over again #are self reports in their own right. lmao.

[silentglassbreak]

The plot with Jolly at the fest sound like very interesting story. I'd love to read it

I didn't get too much detail on this one, so I'm just going to run with it? First time writing for Jolly, so let's give it a shot.

**After writing notes: WOW this one went in an entirely different direction than I expected...

It just happened. I hope someone enjoys it. LOL.

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Soft smut, mentions of death

Sweater Weather

Why does no one ever have the balls to tell Noah he’s being a diva?

Listen, the man is my brother. We’re family. För alltid mitt blod. I would take a bullet for him, and I have no doubt he would do the same for me.

But, sometimes, he’s so fucking irritating.

How hard it must be to have such talent and be so attractive, everyone loves you, and you work hard to maintain an image. However, taking out the stress and pressures on the only guys who also know how being in this band feels?

Noah was arguing with one of the stage techs, telling him that the image they had prepared to be behind us doing our set was wrong. He’s right, they had prepared the image of the mannequins, when it was supposed to be the album cover, but that wasn’t this poor little man’s fault.

“God, it’s not a hard fucking thing to do!”

“I’m sorry, dude. I’m putting in the request to have it switched.” The man wasn’t exactly cowering, but he was intimidated for sure.

I stepped up behind Noah, letting a gentle hand fall on his shoulder. I could feel his muscles relax slightly under my fingers.

“C’mon man. It’ll be fine. We have an hour until our set. They’ll get it fixed.”

I felt him take a deep breath, and saw how he closed his eyes to center himself. This was something I taught him.

The tech scurried away, leaving us alone in our tent.

It was so fucking hot, which was interesting, given we were in Michigan. Upheaval festival was one of my favorites. It was a smaller event, which meant a more regular experience with the fans. Usually, it also meant better food and beer vendors.

“Hey, guess what I found?” Nick came bounding into the tent, a large mug in his hand.

“Beer, I assume?” Noah pointed his attitude at Nick, who rolled his eyes in return.

“They have a beer garden! Jolly, they’ve got a Swedish ale you might dig!”

I snorted. “Guarantee it isn’t actually Swedish.” Grabbing my hat from the couch, I placed it over my long hair that was pulled back in a low ponytail, and headed for the exit.

“I will go check it out though. Folio out there?”

Nick nodded. “He was spotted, so he’s chatting with some fans.”

I smirked. “Let’s hope he can get out before the set.”

Noah turned and looked at me. “Don’t be late getting back, please! We go on in under an hour.”

Shooting him a thumbs up, I headed for the mayhem of the festival.

As suspected, there was nothing Swedish about the beer, but it did have good flavor. I stood to the right of the beer garden, sipping my mug, and people watched.

It was always so fascinating to see the mix of people who came to these shows. European festivals were one thing but American festivals? You saw everything from multi-colored hair to breasts only barely covered by mesh tops or pasties. It was a sight to behold.

After a moment of zoning out, I looked down at my watch to see I still had twenty minutes before we had to head to the stage. Noah was likely bursting because I wasn’t back yet, and I smiled to myself at the thought. He could sweat for a few minutes, would do him good.

Deciding I should at least start making my way back there, my eyes scanned for the direction I needed to go, somehow getting turned around. Eyes searching over heads and bodies, I didn’t even see the person coming toward me, knocking my shoulder directly into them as I began walking forward.

My beer sloshed over the edge of the cup, pouring foam down the girl’s arm.

“Fuck! I am so sorry!” I turned, and my eyes locked onto the face in front of me.

Wisps of natural, dirty blonde hair floated in the slight breeze, framing a tan, small face. The rest of her hair was pulled up on top of her head in a bun, tightly secured. Her eyes were lightly lined with black, mascara clinging to her lashes. Pink, full lips covered by only a thin gloss were hanging open, startled by the cold liquid on her shoulder.

“Shit! I didn’t even see you, I’m so sorry!” She apologized, wiping her arm with the sweater tied around her waist. Her white tank top was now an amber color on one side.

I couldn’t speak. She was gorgeous.

“Jesus, I’m such a fucking klutz.” She groaned, hastily grabbing napkins off of the cart behind us and wiping at her arm, and then at my hand.

When her ice blue eyes looked up at me, I felt the air rush back into my lungs.

“No, no that was my fault. I’m very sorry.”

When the realization crossed her face, I saw it like a firework exploding behind her vision.

“You’re Jolly fucking Karlsson!”

This made me chuckle. “Something like that, yeah.”

I reached a hand out, which she took graciously, smiling at me with a wide, toothy grin.

“It’s such an honor. I’m a huge fan. I was actually rushing so I could get back to see your set!”

Her words snapped me back.

Fuck.

“Oh, good! I’ve got to get over there! But, uh,” My brain was working overtime. “maybe I can find you after? You can buy me another beer?”

I let any suave I had take over, which seemed to work decently, given she blinked multiple times.

“Sure, of course!”

“Jolly!” My head snapped over to see Matt barreling toward me. “Dude we go on in ten minutes!”

Looking back, I watched as her face fell slightly, my arm now being physically pulled in the opposite direction. Being led away, I hollered.

“I’ll meet you back here!”

I was only given a nod, and a wave in response.

-

The set was electric, Noah's earlier nerves rolling off of him comfortably as he put on a show. Nick was absolutely flawless on his bass, flipping his hair over and over. Folio, as usual, lost himself in the drum beats, freestyling here and there.

I, however, was way off my game. Something about my encounter with the mesmerizing blonde earlier kept me thoroughly distracted. Over and over, my eyes swam through the sea of people in the crowd, trying my hardest to find a blonde messy bun and steel blue eyes, but it was in vain. I couldn't see anything.

I thought about her again and again, unable to shake the feeling of wonder from my bones. For whatever reason, I needed to see this girl again. Her aura, her energy, it radiated beauty, rarity, like a gemstone.

Pärla. A magnificent treasure.

The thoughts racing in my brain made me lose my focus more than once. During Nowhere to Go, I missed several notes, my guitar making an awful screeching sound. I forgot to sing backup vocals during Limits entirely, earning me a glare from Noah, and a look of concern from Nick.

I had ignored it, and continued on, my eyes still searching. It was hopeless. I would find her after. I had to.

Once Dethrone concluded, and I ran off stage, setting my guitar down, I felt a hand pull my arm, flinging my backward.

"Dude, are you okay?" Nick looked straight at me. "You drunk?"

I furrowed my brow. "Of course not."

"Well, you don't really fuck up on stage, Jolly, so what the fuck?" Noah was standing directly behind Nick, eyes shooting me down with fury.

I shrugged. "I'm sorry. I was looking for someone."

This made them both leer backward a moment. "Who?" Noah asked.

"This girl. I met her at the beer garden."

They reacted equally differently. Nick let up a sly smirk, his eyebrows raising. Noah, however, narrowed his eyes.

"You almost blew the set for some broad?"

Rolling my eyes, I turned toward them. "I didn't blow the fucking set, Noah. Quit being so dramatic."

I could see the fire burning behind his irises, which I would definitely pay for later in the form of his attitude.

"Are you fucking kidding, dude?" Noah began scolding me, but Nick held up a hand.

"Chill. Jolly never fucks up, ever." He turned to Noah, giving him stern eyes. "And the set was fine."

Huffing, Noah stomped away, throwing a tantrum like a child.

I smiled at Nick, grateful. "You know how he gets at festivals."

Nodding, I began to walk away. "Got to go."

Waving him off, I weaved through all of the people behind the stage area, making my way back out to our tent, where Davis and Matt were already packing up equipment. I grabbed a clean shirt out of my backpack, and slipped it over my head. I pulled half of my hair up in a tight bun on top of my head, and slipped on my sunglasses.

Headed back out, I noticed the sun was nearly set, and the beer garden area was almost vacant, most people over by the stages. Sleep Token had just started, so the vendors were long abandoned by almost everyone.

I found the napkin cart, and stood, arms crossed, scanning around. After about ten minutes, I had to remove my sunglasses to be able to see clearly as night was falling. A chill ran up my spine as the temperature began to drop. No sign of her, but I didn't mind waiting.

Thirty minutes.

Forty-five.

One hour.

I stood, eyes glancing around, head bobbing to Sleep Token's heavy bass and Vessel's incredible vocals. However, my mind was elsewhere. Maybe she didn't want to miss their set? Maybe she forgot where to meet? I didn't know how to find her.

I didn't even know her name.

It was a mystery, and I couldn't get it out of my head. I was going to have to give up soon. The festival would be ending, and I would have to get back with the guys, head back to the hotel. The thought made my stomach sink. Why was I so entranced with the idea of this girl? All she did was spill beer on me. Why did I insist on finding her?

"Jolly?"

I spun, much faster than I should've, on my heel, and was met with cold, freezing blue eyes, staring up at me. Her gloss was worn off, and her eyeliner was smudging ever so slightly under her eyes. Her bun was long gone, blonde hair now free-flowing down across her shoulders.

"Pärla."

Her smile was confused. "Uh,"

"It means gem. I didn't know your name, so I decided to go with that."

The blush on her cheeks was a sweet addition to that gorgeous sun kissed skin.

"I like that." She rubbed her palms on the front of her jeans. I noticed her sweater was now around her shoulders, covering the beer stain on her tank top. "I'm sorry, I know we said we'd meet after your set. I had to get one of my friends back to our hotel."

Shaking my head, I waved her off. "No worries."

"Did you wait long?"

An hour wasn't a long time, I don't think.

"Nope."

With a finger pointed at the beer garden, she asked, "So, you want that beer?"

I perused this. I wasn't much for a drink right now, comfortable with just talking to her. "You going to have one?"

Shrugging, she looked over toward the crowd. "I don't think so. I've got to get back to the hotel with my friends soon. One of them is really drunk, and is a sick mess."

My face soured. "That doesn't sound fun."

Scrunching her face, she stuck her hands in the pocket of her sweater. "It isn't. I'm pretty annoyed about it, actually."

Nodding, I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I had been ignoring it for a while.

Matt: Dude, if you're coming with us, we gotta go now.

I typed a quick response.

Me: Meet you back at the hotel.

We walked around the festival grounds for a while, just chatting about different things, somehow managing to distract her from the fact that she should go back to her hotel, and I, mine.

"You're from Florida?"

She nodded. "Daytona. I hate it."

"Why? Isn't it sunny and beautiful all year-round?" I chuckled.

She joined me. "Sure, if you like a lot of drugs and alligators everywhere."

We found some benches, having a seat. I pulled a pack of smokes from my pocket, lighting one.

She stared at me, smirking. I lifted the pack toward her. "Want one?"

She shook her head. "I'm okay. Thanks, though."

Blowing out the smoke, I turned my attention back to her face.

"So why come to Michigan for a festival?"

Her eyes were lost on the crowd, amused. "Why not?" She leaned back on her seat. "I love the adventure of traveling. Seeing different cities. If I get to enjoy good music while I'm at it, why not?"

"You get to meet a lot of cool people doing it, huh?"

Looking over to me, I saw her lips turn up slightly. "Yeah, I do."

A cool silence fell over us for a moment while I finished my cigarette.

Out of my peripheral vision, I saw her head turn toward me. "It's closing."

We noticed the bodies moving past us toward the exit. I nodded. "We should get going soon."

I swore I saw a flash of disappointment cross her features, but only for a second before a look of excitement crept across her face.

"Hey, you want to go somewhere?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Where?"

Smirking, she stood, pulling at my arm. "I know a place, c'mon."

With no time to protest, she pulled me, and I had to nearly jog to keep up. I watched her hair, looking nearly silver against the bright lights at the parking area, fly behind her as she ran toward the Uber line.

We waited, and I slipped my sunglasses back on, and tried not to be obvious.

Once our turn came, she leaned forward to give the driver the address, quiet enough so I wouldn't hear. The driver raised a brow.

"I'm pretty sure it's closed for the night."

She waved at him. "Just go. It'll be fine."

With a nod, he began driving. I stared at her. "Are you taking me somewhere to kill me?"

Her teeth flashed. "You'll have to wait and find out." And she turned to look out at the darkness beyond her window.

Something inside me wasn't worried.

We walked along the boardwalk, out onto the sand. We could hear the soft waves crashing, but it was difficult to see beyond she shoreline.

"Welcome to Lake Michigan!"

The stars, bright and vast, seemed to bounce off of the stillness of the water. It was breathtaking. She bound ahead of me, slipping her shoes off and holding them. Her eyes were fixed on the water, before she dropped down in the sand, looking up at the sky.

I followed suit, taking a heavy seat next to her. It was so quiet, so calm. We weren't supposed to be here at midnight, but something in the chilled air felt so serene.

"What did you call me before?" Her voice was even, still looking at the sky.

"Hm?" I had to shake out of my thoughts.

"At the festival. You called me a name. In another language."

I smiled. "Pärla." She looked back at me. "It means gem."

A warm grin spread across her lips. "I like that." She echoed her earlier sentiment.

It occurred to me at that point, that she still had not told me her first name.

"What else do I call you?"

Her eyes narrowed, thinking. What was there to think about?

"I think that'll do."

I raised an eyebrow. "What?"

Her gaze turned back up to the sky. "Pärla. That's good."

"You're not going to tell me your name?" Confusion laced my voice.

Hugging her knees to her chest, her eyes transfixed on the stars, she bit her lip. "Not yet."

It was strange, but what could I do?

Silence fell over us again, but she eventually spoke up.

"Do you ever miss Sweden?"

Clearing my throat, I mimicked her body language, pulling my knees up.

"Sometimes. It's my home."

Her lips were pulled in a tight line, and I saw what looked to be a tear brimming at her eyes. "I never miss mine. I'm never going back."

"Why not?"

Turning to look at me, a slow tear rolled down her cheek, but she held a sad smile. "I'm happy right where I am."

Trying to process what she said, I struggled, because all I could feel was the urge to grab the tear with my finger, and wipe it from her face. I kept my hands to myself, however.

"So," I tried to lighten the conversation. "how long have you been a fan?"

This made a genuine grin crack across her face. "About a year. I heard you guys for the first time on TikTok. When I looked into the music, I was hooked."

I nodded, listening to the smooth sounds of the waves. "Yeah, that's how a lot of people found us."

"It's good music. I really enjoyed the new album."

"Yeah, it was fun to make."

She looked directly at me. "Do you like being in a band? What's it like?"

That made me huff out a laugh. "It's something else, that's for sure. Chaotic, at times. Rewarding, most others."

Amused, she crossed her legs under her and turned her body to face me. "What are the other guys like?" I raised a brow and she smiled sheepishly. "I'm not trying to fangirl, just curious."

Shaking my head, I turned to face her as well. "Nick is awesome. Mediator when things get tense. He tends to keep a cool head easier than the rest of us." I sighed. "Folio is...young. He's so lighthearted, and full of life. I envy that sometimes." She smiled at that.

"And Noah is..." I trailed off, choosing my words carefully. "Brilliant, but can be a lot sometimes."

"Like how?"

"Like," I intertwined my fingers. "he gets anxious. He's a perfectionist, so there's never room for error. It can be a pain in the ass, but we owe a lot of our success to it."

She nodded. "He's talented."

"Very. So, we put up with it, mostly."

Peering up at me from under her lashes, she spoke low. "And what about you, Jolly? What are you like?"

This gave me pause. How do I answer that?

"I'm..." I really had to think about that answer. "I don't know, really. I'm just, me? The guys call me the 'Dad' of the group, but I'm really only a few years older than Nick."

A hand slid over my knee, and I glanced down at it. "Well, I don't know you very well. Only from what time we've spent the last few hours, but I think you're very interesting."

Resting my chin on a fist, I considered her words. "Do you?"

"Yeah, I do. I think you're very sweet. And complex."

"Complex?"

She let out a giggle, which broke the quiet air with a sweet sound.

"Well, you got in an Uber with a complete stranger, without knowing where you're going, and now you're sitting on a beach in the middle of the night."

This made me smirk. "Point taken."

"That's shows adventure. I like it."

I focused on the ring piercing her left nostril, and the small batch of freckles on her nose. Her hair was hanging long, the moonlight illuminating it.

I felt the pull, the same one that brings the planets together. The pull that gravity is made of. Her eyes flashed back and forth between mine, and her lips parted so slightly. Instinctively, I leaned close to her until I could feel her breath against my face. It was cool, almost cold.

When the soft skin of her lips touched mine, she took a breath in, gasping.

My hand lifted to press against her cheek, pulling her closer, and pressing our lips together.

Like a lightning bolt struck the sand between us, we were lit up with energy. Her body lunged toward me, knees climbing up into my lap as she kissed me, tongue pressing into my mouth. My hands wrapped around to her back, pulling her into me, as she writhed against me.

Her hips pressed down, jeans grinding against mine, the lack of friction making it nearly unbearable. My lips kissed down to her neck, sucking and biting at the soft skin. Her hair had fallen over her face, eyes fluttered closed. Her fingers were grazing down my chest, pulling at the fabric of my t-shirt, and eventually landing to the button of my jeans.

My own hands located the access point of her pants, popping them open. Disconnecting for a moment, she pulled back to shimmy out of her jeans, leaving her in a pair of black panties, kneeling in the sand in front of me.

Staring directly into my eyes, she reached to my jeans and opened them effortlessly, unzipping them, my aching cock bulging against the fabric of my boxers. Her hand slipped to the waistband, freeing my erection. I stared at her with intent. Something in her eyes was dark, something I couldn't place.

"Do you want to?" Her voice was so small. So desperate.

I couldn't respond, so I only reached for her, pulling her face back to me. I laid her down on her back, leaning over her and letting my mouth mold over hers, one hand slipping down her stomach, to her core.

My fingers easily grazed past the elastic of the underwear, running through the soft patch of curls just underneath, until I felt the moisture of her lips between my fingers.

She moaned into my mouth as I slipped my middle finger inside of her, curling it to press against that soft, sweet spot that had her breathing erratic.

"Fuck." She breathed against my mouth. My hand was pumping her hard, a delicious wet sound nearly drowned out by the waves behind us.

"I don't have a condom on me, Pärla."

Her eyes snapped open, and she smiled. "I'm okay, if you are."

Morals? Rational thought? Responsibility? What is that?

I was okay. More than okay. This could be bad. Dangerous, even. Something in my gut - no - my soul told me that this needed to happen, and it needed to happen now.

Steady fingers pulled her panties down, slipping them off, before I hovered over her, lining the head up with her entrance.

As slow and precise as possible, I pressed in, my eyes falling closed with the vibrant sensation that engulfed me. She let out a long, deep groan with me.

"Oh God, Jolly."

I let my lips fall back down to the flesh on her neck, thrusting in and out comfortably, savoring the feel of her on my skin.

We went on like this for longer than I would've expected. Our voices echoed off of the water, the darkness swallowing us as our bodies synchronized. Her pussy tightened around me each time I pulled out, begging for more.

Eventually, I sped up the snapping of my hips, leaning up to get a better angle, pulling her knee up to her chest.

Her hands dug into the sand around us, head careened backward.

"Oh Jolly, fuck, so fucking good." She was biting down on her lip so hard, it was sure to bleed.

I was so close. I needed her release. "Come for me, Pärla." My breathing began stuttering. "Let go, for me."

A long, visceral moan left her lips, and I felt her walls spasm around me as I began emptying into her, my orgasm smacking me hard in the chest.

I pumped us through it, one hand holding her face, watching the waves of pleasure rush over it.

Once we slowed to a stop, I collapsed next to her, a lazy smile on my face.

"That was..." I started, too tired to finish my sentence.

"Unreal." Her words were stark. Matter of fact. Her eyes were looking back up at the stars.

I followed suit, zipping my jeans back up.

"I'm glad I met you today, Jolly."

I let my eyes fall on her again, and smiled. "Me too, Pärla."

My eyes opened to a flashlight shining directly on them.

"Hey, asshole!" I squinted, my hands coming up to shield my vision from the abrasive light. "You can't fucking sleep here. Go find a fucking shelter!"

"What?" I sat up, looking up at the person in front of me. A police officer.

"You've got to get out of here, man. I don't want to take you in."

I held my hands up in defense, standing to my feet. My eyes glanced around, realizing I was very much alone.

"Where's the girl I was with?"

The cop raised an eyebrow. "No one but you here, bud. Let's go."

His hand grabbed my arm, leading me off the beach. I turned back toward the water, hollering out into the darkness.

"Pärla?!"

No response. Just silence.

-

A week had gone by, and I was back home.

I had done everything I could think of to find her, but still came up with nothing. No name. No number. Just a physical description and vague location. Have you any idea how many blonde-haired, blue-eyed, tan-skinned girls are in Daytona, FL? It was comical.

After about four days, I had pretty much given up. Part of me felt hurt. Why had she left? Was she okay? She knew me, why hadn't she reached out?

Was she just in it for the sex? Or to say she screwed a member of the band? Did she regret it?

Something felt wrong. Her presence, her energy. It felt so genuine. I struggled to believe she really just ran off, leaving me to fall asleep alone on that beach.

I had Ubered back to the hotel, heading straight to Noah's room to tell him what happened. It was 4AM by the time I made it back, and he looked at me like I was insane.

Still, he showed his human side for a moment, and empathized with me, offering to help try and find her.

Back in Los Angeles, I was sitting in the studio, trying to perfect a guitar rift, when Noah bounded in with Folio. We had everyone together for the next two weeks before we left for the next festival.

"I don't get why people are so scummy."

I raised an eyebrow at Folio's words. "What's that?"

He turned to look at me, falling into a chair. "This article, man. About Upheaval?"

I stopped my strumming, looking up to give him my full attention.

I took note that Noah was scrolling on his phone fervently.

"What about it?"

Noah looked up at me, pursing his lips. "I guess someone got really hurt?"

"Not hurt. Someone fucking died, dude."

This made me furrow my brows. "What?"

"Yeah. Some girl got trampled in the fucking crowd."

Noah rolled his eyes. "The article I read said she had a seizure, and fell into the crowd. They didn't get her out in time."

"During which set?"

"Sleep Token." Noah responded.

"Wow, really? I saw damn near the entire thing. I didn't see anything happen."

"Well, that's the point, man. No one did, until the end. By that time, she had choked or something." Noah handed his phone to me, and I noticed it was scrolled to the bottom of the article.

"It's bullshit they waited so long to say something." Folio chimed in.

Noah shrugged. "Trying to protect the festival's reputation, I guess. Too bad. She was fucking cute, too."

My thumb scrolled to the top of the article, taking a moment as it was long.

When the picture at the top came into view, my hand that held my rig went slack, dropping the instrument on the floor.

It didn't make sense. It was a mistake of some kind.

25 Year Old Female Dies At Music Festival - Safety Protocols Being Investigated

The photograph that stared back at me, mocking my dropped jaw and widened eyes.

"Jolly, you good, dude?" Folio asked as he reached down to grab my guitar, now on the floor.

I couldn't respond. My blood had coagulated in my veins. My skin hardened to stone as my eyes stared at the picture, mind blanking.

The girl in the picture stared into my very soul.

Dirty blonde hair. Ice blue eyes. Small patch of freckles. Plush pink lips.

Pärla.

#jolly karlsson #jolly karlsson fic #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens #fanfic #bad omens cult

[themultifandomgal]

From 2010- Alan Carr Chatty Man 2011

2011

Part 10

I stand nervously pulling down my skirt next to Liam as we wait to be introduced

“Stop worrying’ you look great” Harry says placing a hand on my shoulder

“That’s not it. I just don’t know why I’ve been put in such a short skirt. I feel like my ass is exposed”

“Here” Niall hands me his flannel to wrap around my waist. At least it will give me a little bit of coverage

“Thank you”

“It’s One Direction” I hear Alan Carr say and the audience cheer. I follow the boys down the stairs, holding on to the railing so that I don’t fall

“Hello gorgeous” Alan says hugging me after the others. We are lead you the sofa where we will be doing the interview. I sit in between Harry and Liam and cross my legs over “who wants a drink?”

“Me!” Niall says quickly making me laugh

“Now you two can’t have one because your only 17” Alan says to me and Harry

“I’ll have a pork scratchin” Harry responds

“Aww. Now some of your fans are pretty young. I saw one girl in her school uniform saying ‘Harry Harry give me some of your gravy”

“Eww” i scrunch my nose up as Harry places his head in is hand

“YN and Louis and Liam your all in relationships. How supportive are your partners?”

“Very supportive actually. James trusts me and I trust him” I give Alan a shrug

“Same here” Louis says smiling

“You lot are living the dream right now ain’t ya? and you boys have moved into swanky new bachelor pads. YN you’ve moved in with your boyfriend is that right?”

“Yeah that’s right” Niall says

“Do you live near each other?”

“Yeah. Harry an Louis live together, YN lives across from them and the rest of us have our own places in a complex” Zayn tells Alan

“Yeah me and Harry live together” Louis places his arm over Harry’s shoulders

“Do you still take your washing back home?”

“No they bring all their washing to mine and make me do it” I laugh

“Really?”

“Yeah. My washing machine seems to be on all the time”

“Hey we buy you food to say thank you” Louis says looking at me

“That’s true”

“Zayn your a bit of an int ya”

“Err I dabble”

“Is he a good drawer?” Alan asks and we all respond with yes’ or nods of the head

“What do you draw?”

“Mainly cartoons. I also draw the lads and YN sometimes”

“For Christmas Zayn drew me a picture of Cookie”

“Cookie is your dog right?”

“Yeah” I smile nodding my head

“Do you think you can draw me?” Alan asks getting a note pad and pen from behind his chair

“I can give it a go”

“Now I’m sensitive about me face so don’t make me look like bugs bunny. I have feelings to Zayn ya know”

The interview continues, Zayn shows Alan the picture which definitely isn’t his best work. We talk about our first album and the recording process. The boys, myself and Alan then have a dance off which I think I won.

#harry styles fanfic rec #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x oc #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles #6th one direction member #one direction x reader #sixth one direction member #one direction

[schrijverr]

A Behind the Scenes of: Corroded Coffin

Jonathan gives an insight into the life of Corroded Coffin in the early days during their rise to fame.

On AO3.

Ships: Steddie

Warnings: period typical homophobic attitudes mentioned (minor)

~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hi, I’m Jonathan Byers, the main photographer and editor of A Collection of Queer Photography. Today I’m giving you a behind the scene look of some of the Corroded Coffin photos that are in the book,” Jonathan starts out the video, sounding a little awkward, but trying not to show.

“Corroded Coffin has kind of blown up again, so a lot of people tagged me on twitter to talk more about some of the photos I took of them, which has been a little overwhelming,” Jonathan tells the camera, his voice indeed a little shrill. “So, this video is to meet that demand.”

He grabs the book, which has little tabs sticking out, so he can find the right pages easier and flips it open on the first one.

On screen appears a photo of Eddie, Jeff, Gareth and Chris. They all have their arms slung over each other, Gareth giving Eddie bunny ears. Their clothes are classic 80s punk, heavily inspired by the queer scene as both Eddie and Gareth had influenced the other two.

“This is Corroded Coffin back in School,” Jonathan says. “I took this in ‘86. It’s not a very fancy or hard to take photo, just a group photo. It’s an old one, so I was also at the start of my photography career. I had not training yet, so it isn’t very dynamic photo.”

“However,” he goes on. “We put it in here, because went with the theme and because shows their youth and playfulness. It’s very much them before they took off.”

“I don’t want to imply that fame changed them or anything. They’re a few of the most down to earth people I know, but I’ve been taking Corroded Coffin photos for a long time. Most of them have been in circulation since the 90s, save those in here and few that didn’t make the cut,” Jonathan says. “But the longer you spend in front of a camera, the more you get used to it. So of course the way they come across has changed.”

“Here for example,” he points to the bunny ears. “It’s very silly and it’s teen behavior. They would still do that in the 90s, but they would have thought about it. If it fit the vibe of the photo or if they intentionally didn’t want to take a moment seriously.”

“They’re pose is also very basic,” Jonathan says. “I’ve had a lot of fun directing shoots with them for album covers etcetera. But it’s clear here they haven’t gotten used to posing as a group and I’m not used to shooting groups yet either.”

He flips the page to another book mark as the photo changes to Corroded Coffin performing at the Hideout. All the band members dressed extravagantly. Eddie has eyeliner tears streaming down his face alongside the sweat. He is mid-head bang, sharing a microphone with Jeff. Gareth has his arms raised high in the background, about to slam down on the drums. Chris is pouring water from a bottle over his face.

“This is Corroded Coffin Live at the Hideout back in ‘88,” Jonathan says. “If you’re a fan, you probably have heard them mention the place, since that is where they first performed.”

“I really like the photo, because it truly shows that they’re too small for the stage, the presence they had and the potential,” Jonathan says. “It’s a little rough around the edges, but the show is already there.”

“There is no audience, but they’re still playing as if they’re in a stadium,” Jonathan goes on. “I still had to get used to shooting the band and over time I learned it’s sometimes better to focus on one member instead of trying to wait for that perfect moment wherein they all are going to look good, because that just doesn’t happen.”

“Like here,” he turns to the photograph. “You can barely see Eddie’s face with how his hair is in front of his face and the splash of water isn’t the best either. This photo made the cut, since it’s the best I took that evening, which says a lot.”

Jonathan flips the page again and nods: “Ah, yes, if you compare it to this one, you can see the evolution. It’s Corroded Coffin’s First Show in Boston, which I took a year later in ‘89.”

The band is playing in a dingy little club in Boston. However, they have an audience, silhouettes of heads and arms in the foreground as they play. Eddie is shirtless, wearing only leather pants, his boots and suspenders. He isn’t playing the guitar, instead clapping his hands above his head with a manic grin, his armpit hair on display. Gareth and Jeff are still playing, but Chris is helping hype up the audience.

“This is a better picture, since it’s a moment they interact with the audience, thus are aware that they’re being seen,” Jonathan explains. “So, it’s a much better moment to photograph, though it’s never going to be perfect.”

“You can also see how they’ve changed here,” Jonathan says. “They’ve always been too big for their stage, but the difference in their face between having a crowd here and the empty Hideout is huge.”

“One of the things I enjoy most is shooting the same subject over time, because you can really capture how much they change and what things are important to them at the time,” Jonathan says with a smile.

Jonathan flips to the next page with a little tab, then checks what the next one after that is, before flipping to the after that, which is Eddie Munson and his Sweetheart. In the photo Eddie is on his knees, leaning back and playing the guitar. He is in a cropped, hand-painted Corroded Coffin shirt, sweat soaking it. He is playing his heart out, seemingly lost in the music. His right eye is still bruised to all hell.

“This is Eddie Munson and his Sweetheart and when I learned to take solo photos of them instead of trying to get them all in there,” Jonathan smiles. “I took this in 1990, right before they were taking off.”

“What I really like about this photo is how private it is,” Jonathan says. “He is on that stage in front of a lot of people, but he’s just alone with the music for a second. You can see it in the expression on his face and how he holds the guitar.”

“I had to fight my way through to get the angle for this photo, nearly broke my camera, but it was so worth it. Because you’re kind of looking up to him. He might be kneeling, but he is still looming over you, his presence bigger than you. That really makes this photo special and so very Eddie-like,” Jonathan explains.

Then he flips to the next marked page and Personal Makeup Artist appears on screen. It’s of Steve and Eddie in the bathroom. Eddie is sitting on the counter with his eyes closed, he is gripping the side of the counter tightly. Between his legs is Steve, holding eyeliner in his one hand, Eddie’s chin with the other as he delicately applies it. He is going for dramatic this night.

“This is before their first big-big gig back in ‘91,” Jonathan says. “Eddie was so nervous, all of them were, but not trying to show it. He spend the whole time telling Steve how bad it would all go. What I really like is the soft quiet moment that you can see here.”

“Eddie will never admit it, but he’s scared of eyeliner. He can’t do it himself,” Jonathan reveals. “Later makeup artists did it for him, but before they made it big, Steve was always the one to do it for him. It was their little ritual before shows.”

He moves on to the other photo on the page. Taken behind the scenes of Corroded Coffin’s first big gig. They’re standing to the sides, peaking at the audience, but not yet on stage. Gareth is anxiously spinning his drumstick and biting his lip. Next to him, squatted on the ground, is Chris, breathing into a bag. In the foreground is Eddie, who is looking into the camera with wide, scared eyes. Behind him is Jeff grinning widely

“We wanted to contrast that quiet moment with what they were about to do,” Jonathan says. “This photo is named More than 10,000 People and it was their genuine reaction to having to go on stage in front of so many people. It’s quite funny when you realize how much bigger their crowds got over time, but that makes it such a nice photo.”

“They had to get used to all that fame, the amount of eyes on them. Jeff has always been the least anxious about it out of all of them, which you can see here,” Jonathan points to Jeff. “I remember this moment quite well. Corroded Coffin nearly didn’t make it, because Chris walked out and Eddie was ready to follow him. But they did just fine for themselves and killed it.”

Jonathan flips to the next page and Eddie Munson on Stage, 1991 appears on screen. It is of Eddie on stage at their first big gig. His hair is thrown back as he sings, thrusting his hips on which the guitar rests forward. He’s wearing big boots and tight pants. He is shirtless save for a leather harness, he looks alive and sweaty, handkerchief hanging out of his pocket. The lights reflect on his slick skin, the scars standing out between the tattoos.

“Again, me knowing to photograph only one member at the time,” Jonathan laughs. “No, but this one is different than Eddie Munson and his Sweetheart that I showed you earlier. This is called Eddie Munson on Stage, 1991. Which is a pretty utilitarian title, but that is what it is. This is Eddie on stage; funny, engaged and in performer mode. It’s not him alone with his guitar despite the crowd, this time he knows he’s being seen. So it’s a different photo.”

“It’s also very much a performance photo. He is on stage, looking very much like a rockstar and we wanted to contrast that with his normal, human side,” Jonathan goes on. “So, of course we had to put Post Gig Dinner right next to it.”

The photo appears. In it, the entirety of Corroded Coffin is stuffed into a booth along with Robin and Steve. Everyone is grinning. The members of the band are all sweaty and stuffing their face with fries, while trying to laugh for the camera. Robin is throwing up devil horns along with Jeff, Chris has two fries as fangs, while Gareth is mid-chew. Eddie has Steve in his lap, who stands out like a sore thumb between the alternatively dressed people around him in his jeans and polo. Though Eddie is wearing a jacket over his harness that can’t be anyone’s except Steve’s.

“It’s a very silly photo, which is really like,” Jonathan says. “They always used to eat at this diner after gigs, before they got too recognizable to do so.”

“What I especially like about this photo, is how Robin and Steve fit into it,” Jonathan tells the camera. “They’re in some aspects such an opposites attract friendship and this photo really shows that.”

“Robin has always been a little more alternative and a dyke to the heart, while Steve has always been a little more mainstream,” Jonathan explains. “Neither of these are better than the others, but seated next to a metal band, one is going to stand out more. Robin could easily be a part of the band.”

“But I think that makes Steve’s position all the more interesting,” Jonathan goes on. “Because Robin is part of the group, she blends in. Steve stands out. But out here in the world, he’s someone you’d walk by without a glance while all the others would usually turn heads. By virtue of the crowd, the script gets flipped.”

“And that makes the detail of his jacket all the more fun,” Jonathan says, “because Eddie is wearing it. He is connecting himself to Eddie, pulling him a little into his world as Eddie pulls him into his by holding him. They’re the point the lines blur in this photo and that tells a lovely story about how they connect.”

With that he flips to the next tab and states: “Page 96 and 97 are the pages with A Collection Of Early Corroded Coffin Photos. I’m going to pick a few out of here that I find interesting or that I have something to say about.”

“Of course the first one is kind of funny and says a lot about what back stage looks like,” Jonathan says as it appears on screen.

It is of Eddie and Steve making out on top of one of the equipment boxes backstage, in the foreground is Jeff looking into the camera with an exhausted look.

“Steve and Eddie are, for a lack of better words, very clingy and a little gross about it,” Jonathan admits. “And back here they still saw each other daily, it got worse when they were apart more often. I have one photo where they’re on the brink of fucking right back stage, but that didn’t make the cut.”

“I think what really sells this photo is Jeff,” Jonathan decides. “He looks tired, which tells people that this happens often. I pity them during the time they shared a tour bus whenever Steve came to visit them on tour.”

The next image comes on screen. It’s of Jeff and Chris tuning their guitars on stage, the huge venue they’re in is still empty and it’s just the two of them and the instruments on stage.

“Here, this one of Chris and Jeff is very evocative, because they look very small on their big stage. I think it really shows the small human artist behind every rock legend,” Jonathan says. “Sometimes you have to work with empty space to say what you want and this is an example of it.”

“Oehh, this one is great,” Jonathan exclaims as the image changes to Robin and Steve are holding hands, their bodies silhouetted from the back by the light coming from the stage. From in between them you can see Eddie hopping on one leg as he plays the guitar.

“I love this photo, because it shows their dynamic through these years,” Jonathan says. “Robin has been Steve’s support system whenever Eddie was away, while Steve kept Eddie going. Here the two of them are supporting Eddie, but Robin is holding Steve’s hand, supporting him too.”

“A lot of people don’t realize how hard it is to date a rockstar, especially before there was social media and face time,” Jonathan explains. “Steve will never fully admit how hard those years were. Eddie too. They’re strong about it, but they wouldn’t have made it through without people like Robin there. This photo really shows that.”

“Next one,” Jonathan takes a look then nods. “This one here is a better example of a full band photo, because sometimes you just have to accept that not all will be the focus, because that’s just not how it works.”

The photograph is of the entire band. Chris and Jeff are going wild, leaning over the first row with people going wild. Eddie is standing by Gareth, head banging as both of them play.

It gets replaced by a set of photographs as Jonathan moves on. The first is of Eddie holding a bra that has been thrown at him, from the look in his eyes, he has no idea what to do with it. The second one is taken right after of Eddie still holding the bra, but grinning wolf-ishly into the audience. After seeing so many photographs of him genuinely grinning it is clear he quickly plastered it on.

“This set, I love this set,” Jonathan comments, looking up in the camera again. He’s been mostly looking down to the book, seeming more comfortable like that.

“It’s that slight crack in the performer that is Eddie Munson that is captured so beautifully,” he smiles almost lovingly at the photos. “Eddie has always been such a presence, even before he was famous or I even knew him. He’d be out on cafeteria tables monologuing in front of the entire school.”

“He has always wanted to be a star and had dreams about it and this is the moment he realizes what the reality of it will look like. And he goes through it like a champ, because he is meant for this and he worked too hard to get there not to,” Jonathan says. “It’s a funny series, but it has something tragic that really speaks to me.”

The series gets replaces with an image that is taken behind the venue of the band smoking. You can’t make out their faces all the best, however, you can see the embers of their cigarettes glow and what those reveal.

“This is a calmer photo that kind of shows the showbiz life outside the gigs,” Jonathan moves on. “I like the calm moment that offsets the more crazy ones on here. I also quite like the metaphor of the light only showing part of them, the rest being left in the dark. That might seem like reaching, but that’s the beauty of photography, you’re allowed to be a little pretentious about it.”

He laughs a little self-depreciating, before flipping to the next tab.

The image that comes on screen is of Corroded Coffin in the Munson apartment, they’re all cheering, screaming, going nuts. Gareth is jumping on the couch, Robin next to him as Jeff fist pumps next to them. Chris is tugging Argyle into a bone crushing hug. Nancy is still seated, but smiling with her teeth. In the foreground is Eddie screaming as if he’s about to run or break something, behind him is Steve diving for the phone Eddie has just dropped.

Jonathan snorts, before he introduces: “This is Signed Their First Album and Tour that I took in ‘91. It’s- it is quite a dynamic moment. Chaotic if you want to be more accurate.”

“I remember this moment so well, we all came around to wait on the call and Eddie just heard the news and started to cheer without any regard for the person on the other line,” Jonathan shakes his head with a fond smile. “I think Steve was the one to accept it for them. He’s my favorite part of this photo.”

“Taking these almost baroque style photos of something happening is a mix between skill, luck and just snapping a thousand photos and hoping one will turn out okay,” Jonathan says. “I’ve had to tear up so many of these types of photos. It’s a hazard of the job. Don’t be afraid to take a shitty photo, because the next one might be great.”

With that he flips to the next page, before looking up to someone behind the camera with a questioning gaze.

There is a cut, then Jonathan is saying: “There are quite a lot of them still to go and this one is already longer than other ones, so I can’t talk about all of them. Now I’ve kind of gone through the early days, but I can do the others ones too if anyone’s interested.”

He signs off: “So, yeah, that is a behind the scene of early Corroded Coffin photos. Hopefully that was interesting. Bye.”

~~

A/N:

In case you’re wondering that is a question to y’all if there is interest for more bts of Corrded Coffin xp

#rr writing #a collection of queer photography by jonathan byers #a behind the scenes by jonathan byers #corroded coffin #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #eddie lives au #st post season 4 #robin buckley #jonathan byers #platonic stobin #famous eddie munson #gareth stranger things #jeff stranger things

[watermelonsugacry]

Writing Fine Line: To Be So Lonely

A/N: Hey lovies!! 6 songs down, 6 songs to go 💚

SUMMARY: YN and Harry have known each other since 2010 when they were put in a band together called One Direction. Since the band split up, YN and Harry have kept in close contact, may or may not have grown deeper feelings for one another and have continued to help each other create music. After having helped Harry with HS1, he has invited YN back again to Malibu to help make Fine Line. This was how To Be So Lonely was made. (5.3K)

GENRE: harry x 1dbandmember!reader, friends to lovers, slow burn, famous!reader

WARNING: lil angsty, alcohol usage, toxic relationship traits

side note: italicized is voice over commentary (I wrote this kind of like the Behind the Album documentary) 

Since 2010 Masterlist Previous Song Here 🌙

Tonight was actually going alright. 

It’s the first time YN is able to put a stop to the way Harry crawled back into her mind since their break up (it wasn't the first and it surely wouldn't be the last) a few weeks ago. Instead of wallowing the day away in her bed or worse, getting tipsy and drunk calling her ex, she takes up her friend's offer of a fancy night out. She has a close knit group of friends, people she knows from her days first venturing out as a solo artist and some of her dancer friends from her tour crew. 

She’s dolled herself up to the nines. She slipped into a velvet blue dress that whenever she turned, the fabric would have a purple hue to it. It hugs all of her curves the right way, showing off the parts of herself that she loves the most. Her hair is styled up and out of her face with her staple set of rings sparkling across her fingers. 

Going out to dinner—in public in general—can cause an uproar with paparazzi and social media, fans immediately knowing her location before she can even get there herself. 

So it shouldn't come to a surprise that once she gets out of her Range Rover and heads into the fancy restaurant, she immediately has to duck her head down to avoid the blinding flashes from the paparazzi cameras. Moving past and avoiding the crude, invasive questions they scream at her to answer.

What does come as a surprise is while she's in the middle of telling a story to the group, laughing and genuinely enjoying herself, her phone lights up with Mitch’s name popping up on her screen, the sound of a classic old telephone ringtone cuts through the space of the private room they reserved.

Mitch isn't much of a caller, mostly preferring to text his short answers than verbally say them over the phone. 

So after giving her friend group an apologetic look and excusing herself from the table, YN quickly slides her finger across the screen and presses her phone to her ear.

"Mitch?"

"YN, hey I'm so sorry. I don't mean to drop this on you—just give me my keys, Mitchy." As much as he can give her butterflies by merely saying her name, hearing Harry’s voice this time made her stomach drop. 

"Mitch, what's going on?"

"He saw the pap pictures of you going out tonight and...well, he got a bit tipsy." 

No, tipsy Harry didn't sound like that. He didn't sound cuddly and giggly like he usually does when he’s had a few fruit flavored drinks. His words sounded slurred and raspy.

“Where are you?”

“Your house.” 

"I'll be there in 10 minutes." YN doesn’t even think twice about her decision. She’d drop everything and anything when it comes to something concerning Harry, especially when he’s not in the right state of mind like he certainly is now. Whether that be when he’s too much in his head before going on stage, angry to the point of not making rational decisions (a rare one but it still happens), or when he’s too intoxicated to function.

Should it be her job to go after him like this? No. Despite the current state of their romantic relationship, is he still her best friend above all else? Of course. Would Harry do the same if the roles were reversed? In a heartbeat. 

So after having slapped on a smile with a promise to have dinner with them as soon as she can and making sure to have their tab covered, YN drives her foot to the petal in a rush to get home. 

The thoughts running through her mind are going a thousand miles a minute. She’s trying to keep her heart from coming up and out of her throat at the thought of how Harry came to his current state of being for the night. 

Has this happened before? Was Harry suffering as much as she was? How many times has Mitch been the one to take care of Harry when he gets like this? Has he been reaching for the bottle more and more lately?

So instead of letting her anxiety get the best of her, she shakes her head in hopes to clear her mind and begins to mentally prepare herself for seeing Harry again after so long...and that doesn't seem to be helping much either.

“Come on, man. It’s time to go home.” Mitch tries to coax Harry away from YN’s yellow front door.

“Where do you think I am?” Harry glares at his friend before a hiccup shakes his upper half, sticking his hand back out. “Just gimme my—my keys and I can go inside.” 

The headlights from YN’s car shine across Harry’s face and Mitch lets out a sigh of relief at the sight of her coming out of her car.

“What’s going on?” The crease between her eyebrows have been there since she walked out of the restaurant. 

“I’m so sorry for bringing him here. I either had to drive him or he was gonna drive himself.” She spots his drunken pink eyes from where she’s standing and she’s grateful that Harry didn’t go through with his actions. "Haven't been able to get him away from the door."

She wants to ask Mitch all of the questions that have been rushing through her head on the drive over here. 

Has he been able to draw him away from her door in the past?

YN instead swallows back her inquiries and gives her friend a sad smile.

“Thank you, Mitch. You can go now, I got it from here.”

“You sure? M’more than willing to stay and help you.”

“I appreciate it but this is something I need to take care of myself.”

“Please call me if you need anything.” She nods before walking into Mitch’s outreached arms. It’s a quick hug with an even quicker kiss to the cheek but it has Harry groaning from where he’s leaning against the door.

“You too, Mitchy?” He slurs out in a high-pitched, whiny tone.

If it were under different circumstances, she’d probably think further about how cute the nickname is for their oh-so-serious friend but right now, it only has her rolling her eyes. She grabs his hand and replaces Harry’s car keys with hers.

“Take my car. I’ll drive him back tomorrow.” 

After some hesitation and one final look over to Harry’s slouched figure, Mitch reluctantly nods before getting in her car and pulling out of the driveway.

When she sees the car’s tail lights disappear after turning a corner, she takes in a deep breath in preparation of what’s to come. She doesn’t look at Harry as she approaches the door, quickly finding her house key to push it through the lock.

“Hey, lovie.” Harry gives her a cheeky smile, happy that he got his way and she’s here with him. She’s trying her hardest to not let her anger come through, there’s no use in trying to argue when he’s in this state. 

But he pulls at her last straw when he slurs out a “Y’look so beautiful,” and attempts to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear only to be pushed away by her dismissive hand. He almost trips over his own feet once the door is pushed open, unable to steady himself. 

He’s a literal child with an even childish attitude.

“You’re an arrogant son of a bitch.” YN spits out while she leads his drunk body inside her house. All of his weight leaning on her as they both stumble inside. “You know that don’t you?”

“I know, baby. M’sorry.” Harry's words slur as they tumble out of his mouth. His head leans on hers and the smell of alcohol on his breath almost causes her to gag. 

“Don’t call me that.” YN snaps at him as she drops his body on her couch. His shoulders slouch against the back of the couch and he can barely hold his head up. 

“Right. I forgot that you, you just want to be friends.” Harry takes in a deep breath and closes his eyes. He furrowed his eyebrows before saying, “M’sorry baby.”

“Don’t call me that,” YN repeats herself. “I mean it.” 

Walking over to her fireplace, she takes out a match from the little box before scrapping it against the rough surface on the side. Once there’s a small fire, she brings it down to one of the candles on the mantle in hopes to mask the drunken smell from her ex’s breath. She makes a small circle with her lips, her cheeks puff out for merely a second as she blows out the small flame. 

“I see your face everywhere I go." Harry's words slur behind her. "You’re just...everywhere.” 

YN looks over her shoulder to her ex, her best friend. She doesn’t say anything, not trusting her own voice or the words that want to push past her lips.

She can’t attempt to explain her feelings now, not when he’s like this. She can’t tell him that she sees him, too. That there isn't a day that goes by where she doesn’t hear his name, hear his song play on the radio, or get asked questions about him when she’s being interviewed on national television.

Instead, she walks past his limp body on her couch and goes into her kitchen to get him a glass of water. The sound of her heels clicking against her hardwood floors ring loudly through his ears. It's almost painful to hear, but he welcomes the noise over the silence.

“Did you ever really love me?” He whimpers out, so quietly that she might have missed it if she wasn't listening carefully.

Why would he ask such a thing? 

She knows he would never have the courage to ask her this when he’s sober, so there’s no harm in answering him truthfully if there’s a high chance he won’t remember anything in the morning, right?

When she walks back over to him, she almost can’t look into his wide, pink eyes. “Loving you was torture,” She looks down at the glass in her hands. “But I enjoyed every second of it.”

She can’t really read his facial expression. In a way, that gives her some comfort. She doesn’t want to know his response or what his answer would be to the question. 

“Here, drink up.” YN says, handing him the glass.

“You’re too good for me,” He says into the rim of the cup before taking a generous gulp. “Don’t deserve yeh.”

She sits on the coffee table in front of him and takes off her heels. So much for dressing up tonight. 

“I meant it when I said you look beautiful tonight.”

“Why are you here, Harry?” YN steers away from his question. She feels the irritation radiate through her body when she sees him raise a shoulder to his ear, turning the empty glass between his hands.

“Now you don’t have anything to say?” She hates the way the words taste on her tongue. It’s like she’s scolding a child, trying to sway an answer out of him.

“M’sorry.” He murmurs out, his chin to his chest.

“What are you sorry for?” She’s almost seeing red at this point as Harry lifts his shoulders in a shrug once more. 

She didn’t need to do this. She could have still been sitting with her friends back in that restaurant, laughing and drinking the night away.

She cares for Harry, more than she’d like to admit. It hurts her to see him this way but she cannot—will not—stand for his childish behavior.

“Don’t apologize if you don’t even know why you’re doing it, Harry. Apologize when you actually mean it.” YN takes in a deep breath, her voice breaking at the end. 

When she’s met with silence, she wordlessly nods with her lips in a tight line. “Good night, Harry.”

“Please, please don’t go.” She’s just about to ignore his plea, ready to just go to bed and deal with him in the morning. But her heart breaks in two at the sound of a sob erupting from his chest. “I c-can’t be a-alone.” 

His chest quickly begins to rise up and down, his eyes wide and filled with panic. 

Throughout the years of knowing him, she can count the number of times she's seen him like this on one hand. He's not merely her drunken ex, he's her broken best friend.

“Hey, hey. Shush. It’s alright. M’right here.” YN quickly sits on the couch next to him and wraps her arms around his shaky body. 

“Don’t wanna—can’t be alone.” He whispers into the crook of her neck, mushing his body as close to hers as he possibly can. “M’so sorry, lovie.”

She’s not quite sure what in particular he’s apologizing for, she's not even sure he knows why, but she doesn’t want to question him right now.

“M’right here. We’ll be alright, H. We always are and always will be.” YN rakes her fingers through his curly locks, smoothing him until he’s calmed down and his breathing evens out. 

She doesn’t know how long they’ve stayed like this, 10 minutes, an hour? All she knows is that while he’s asleep with his head on her lap, she’s not gonna shut her eyes any time soon, too wired from tonight’s events to even consider sleeping as an option.

“We’ll be alright.” YN breathes out into her living room, continuing to rake her fingers gently over his scalp. 

...

"Read ‘em and weep, boys." YN says in excitement as she lays her cards down on the patio table, displaying her winning hand.

The men around the table groan as they throw down their playing cards in the middle of the table.

“What!” Jeff stands up and leans over the wooden table to get a good look at her cards, disbelief written all over his face. Harry chuckles into the rim of his glass as she does a little dance in her seat before sliding the candy she won towards her. 

After spending a couple of days finishing up Canyon Moon and touching up on some of the previous songs they’ve created, the group decided to spend the night outside in the backyard patio that looks out to their secluded beach. Music plays in the background through the built-in speakers within the luxurious shade structure that covers the majority of the huge porch. Soft yellow fairy lights hang all along the branched roof of the shade, casting light over the group as they eat dinner, have a couple of drinks and play a friendly game of poker. 

Well, as friendly as a game can be when there are multiple competitive people playing.

"Alright, who needs a refill?" Harry asks and everyone raises up their glasses. 

YN quickly finishes off the rest of her drink before handing the glass back to Harry. She's getting a little buzzed, everyone is, and it’s all that the group needs after a long day in the studio. 

“Can I have extra strawberries in mine please?” She asks sweetly.

“You got it, baby.” Harry taps the underside of her chin with his curled index finger before swinging his leg over the bench they’re sat on. “Be back in a minute.”

Tyler helps Harry collect everyone's cups before both of them head off inside.

"Needa hit what you English folk call the loo." Kid says, getting up from his seat.

“I shall do the same.” Jeff playfully points to YN. “When I get back, I want a re-match, missy.”

“Give it a rest, mate. Just hate seeing you loose.” She snickers at Harry’s manager, giggling when he takes a dramatic offense to her words by putting a hand to his chest.

“Ok, I was just going e-easy on you this last round." He hiccups. "Prepare to face defeat.”

YN just rolls her eyes as she watches the man scurry off inside the house.

“And then there were two.” She teases at the guitarist sitting across from her.

"Hey, I uh actually wanted to ask you something." Mitch says, not meeting her eyes as he collects everyones cards.

"Sorry mate, but I don't think Sarah would like the idea of us going out on a date." YN smirks before popping a sweet into her mouth, giving her friend a cheeky smile.

"Gross. Like I'd ever want to go out with you." Her jaw drops in a scoff, chucking a wrapped piece of candy at her friend.

"Oi! I'm a total catch. Thank you very much.” Mitch gives her a small smile at her laugh. 

When they first met, it honestly took a bit for her to figure him out and have him open up. He wasn’t a fan of Harry and YN’s music when they were in One Direction, not being familiar with their work was more of a positive thing than it was a negative.

Harry, being Harry, loves to welcome in new friends and people he works with with open arms, talking with them like they’ve known each other for years. It’s especially fun to watch their relations blossom. Harry, the social butterfly, with Mitch, the introvert.

With YN, she’s learned that they mostly connect over music. Playing and knowing about guitars is one of the great loves of her life. Sometimes over breaks on tour or casual meet ups, the two enjoy breaking out their preferred instruments and have a relaxed jamming session. 

It took her a while to realize that his lack of conversation didn’t mean he was bored or disinterested in the topic, he was constantly listening. He spoke through his music and what an honor it was to hear what he had to say with his guitar.

It’s no wonder why her and Harry were so excited and giddy to see how Mitch and Sarah’s relationship has grown. Ms Jones has a grip on the guitarist like no one else has. 

Mitch has definitely come out of his shell more and more each time YN sees him. His small, barely there smile, like the one he has now, lets her know that he’s having a good time.

“Okay, okay. What's up?" YN says after she’s calmed down a bit. There’s a pregnant pause between the two before he breaks the silence.

"You alright? Everything good with you?"

Well that wasn't what she expected him to ask.

"Yeah, totally. Why do you ask?"

“It’s just, it's starting to get really obvious that all the songs are about you in some way shape or form.”

“I would respectfully disagree.” YN leans her elbows on the table, twisting a candy wrapper through her fingers. She knows she’s lying but how does one respond to something like that? When she looks up at Mitch, he’s giving her a knowing look. “What?”

“You’re really going to make me say it.”

“Say what?”

"Him always referring to you being golden."

YN lifts a shoulder to her ear. "That could mean anything—"

"Him wanting to adore you while you obviously are against the idea of adoring anyone."

"A lot of people feel that way."

"Your voice memo is literally in one of the songs."

"Well, that was my idea to do that."

"And how he literally added your manager's name in this last song."

"A lot of people are named Jenny. People aren't gonna know the difference. It's like Diana, or Olivia or Townes."

Okay, she knows that last one was a bit of a stretch but she has a point to make nonetheless.

Mitch looks to her with a squint of his eyes. "...what does that even mean?"

She squints her eyes back at him, leaning further onto the table.

"Still haven't listened to a One Direction song, huh?"

"Except for the ones he makes me play?" YN lets out a laugh and sees a small smile growing on his lips. It is quite funny to see Mitch, a very serious musician—from the way he plays to his facial expressions—play a song that had every preteen girl's hearts throbbing in 2010.

"He's just...writing from a place of personal experience. I've done it plenty and it's not a crime for him to do so either. Critics and fans and social media are always gonna speculate what each song means. It wouldn't be the first time and it's for sure not gonna be the last.” She gives him a dismissive wave of her hand. “He's gonna be fine."

"It's not him I'm concerned about here though." Her furrowed eyes are enough for him to continue. "I mean, of course I'm worried about him because even though Golden sounds like rainbows and sunshine, it's a depressing song. A song about you. Just wanna make sure that you're okay with everything that's happening. Know that Cherry took a little bit out of you.”

She has to admit, Mitch’s words bring her in for a bit of a surprise. He’s not one to usually talk about stuff like this, making sure that she’s emotionally alright for making this album—for being around her ex, their friend, in this way. She expects something like this to come from her other close friends, the situation certainly calls for some speculation and reassurance from an outsider’s perspective. 

So it warms her heart to know that Mitchell Rowland, the most quiet and reserved man she’s ever met, went out of his way to ask her if she’s ok. 

“Thanks for the concern, buddy. I know my limits, yeh know? Wouldn’t be here if I wasn't totally comfortable and if I happen to be then I'll be on my way.”

Mitch nods before going back to the stack of cards in his hands. 

Although she doesn’t want to make a big deal out of his concern, as she knows it will only ruin the moment, she honestly couldn’t be bothered with wanting to hold back from showing her affection for the man across from her. 

So while he shuffles and mixes the cards, she walks around the other side of the table, swings her leg over his bench to face him and wraps her arms around his shoulders. It takes a second but Mitch eventually turns his body to hers, brings his arms around her torso, and reciprocates the friendly sentiment. 

“I appreciate you,” She says into his shoulder, smiling when she feels his hand rub circles around her back before feeling his lips press a friendly kiss to her temple. 

"Love you." The rough texture of his facial hair rubs against her skin.

"Love you, too." 

After a beat, he pulls his head back slightly before saying, “Don’t get it twisted, you’re still annoying.” 

YN lets out a laugh over his shoulder, hearing the knowing smile on his face.

“Duly noted.”

"What's goin' on?" YN looks up to see Harry standing by the doorway with an array of drinks on a tray. 

"Just letting Mitch in on my secret to winning poker." He knows she’s lying, but decides not to pry and shake off the weird feeling in his stomach.

"Oh yeah? Gonna tell me?" Harry says as he sets down everyone’s drinks.

"Sworn into secrecy dude.”

When Mitch looks back to YN, they quietly chuckle to each other like there’s an inside joke he clearly was not part of. Before Harry can say anything, the sound of a clap behind him knocks him from his thoughts.

"Are you ready to face the wrath that is Jeffery Azoff?"

Harry doesn't mind that YN stays seated next to Mitch for the rest of the night. Moreso, he doesn’t want to mind it. He obviously knows that nothing romantic will go on between his friends, but he can’t help the jealousy crawling under his skin. 

Especially when he watches her lean into Mitch, whispering in each other’s ears. Or when she puts a hand on his arm as she points out something in his card deck. The two, smiling and occasionally laughing between their candy bets.

He knows that he shouldn’t be bothered by it and maybe he’s just bothered that she’s not bothered by what’s been going on. After their shared kisses back at her place a couple of days ago, she hasn’t brought it up. To be fair, neither has he, but somewhere inside him hoped that she would. He knows she’s not one to usually shy away from vocalizing something that’s eating away at her.

Maybe this is her way of telling him that she really doesn’t want anything more than a friendship with him, that it’s all one sided. Maybe she was able to hear his worried thoughts about that drunken night earlier this year and has decided that it was too much for her. Who can blame her?

“What's on your mind?” YN bumps her hip with Harry’s as he’s arms deep in washing the dishes from tonight. His manager and the other producers have gone to bed, too tipsy to keep their eyes open any longer. Mitch helps put away all the leftover food made as the two take over dish duty.

He decides to answer her truthfully and hands her another plate to dry. “I'm confused.”

“About?” She softly questions, wiping the dish cloth over the plate.

“Can’t really pinpoint it, to be honest.” 

"Well you know what that means." YN sighs out as she puts away the dishware, giving him a small smile afterwards.

"And what's that?" When he hands her another plate, he tries not to concentrate on the lingering touch of her fingers brushing against his.

"You're gonna have to write about it."

It took Harry less than 30 minutes to complete the lyrics for the song. YN didn’t really know what to expect from the new song but after hearing Harry off-handedly sing it to her, she’s come to the realization that he remembered a lot more of that drunken night than she expected him to.

Don't blame me for falling

I was just a little boy

Don't blame the drunk caller

Wasn't ready for it all

He was a bit hesitant to share the song with her at first and rightfully so. Music is the best way that the both of them are able to communicate their feelings, whether it be to one another or not. 

I was away

And I'm just an arrogant son of a bitch

Who can't admit when he's sorry

Not only was Harry able to figure out his feelings from that night, but she’s surprised to see how aware he was of what happened. It makes her second guess whether he really was out of it that night or not. 

Don't call me "baby" again

You got your reasons

I know that you're tryna be friends

I know you mean it

But don't call me "baby" again

It's hard for me to go home

Be so lonely

Was this Harry finally giving up on her? On their back and forth relationship? Was this cat and mouse game coming to its enviable end?

I just hope you see me in a little better light

Do you think it's easy being of the jealous kind?

Stubborn. It's one if the—if not the first—word that Harry would use to describe YN. Knowing her for as long as he has, he knows that despite all her media training, she's a stubborn little thing to anyone or anything. He knows that while he walks around with an ego too big to fit through the door, her's comes in at a close second. 

It's part of the reason why she doesn't tell him that his jealousy, his possessiveness, is equally shared.

'Cause I miss the shape of your lips

You'll win, it's just a trick

And this is it, so I'm sorry

“I think this song is a really good example of showing how you can be in a room full of people but still feel lonely.” YN fidgets with the rings on her fingers, knowing that feeling all too well. "You can sort of seem fine on the outside, have the world in the palm of your hand, but there's a whole 'nother thing going on that people don't see."

Her lips tug up to a soft smile. “Harry wrote this song quite quickly. It was the putting it all together part that really threw us in for a loop.”

"What if you just do the song as an acapella?" YN suggests only for Harry to groan into his hands. 

YN, Harry, and Mitch are seated around each other in the recording room. To Be So Lonely’s lyrics have been completed, it kind of wrote itself to be honest, but it was the instrumental portion of the song that has stumped the artists. 

Mitch is on one of the stools with an acoustic guitar,  Harry sits in front of the piano and YN sits comfortably on the floor with her guitalele on her lap. 

“They’re [guitalele] really good for writing on, because you can travel with them. I had one of those with me in Japan, so they’re really good for spur-of-the-moment ideas.” Harry says with a nod. “YN uses them quite often and they have a sort of unique sound to ‘em that we both really like.”

It’s well into the hours of the night and for the past few hours, the three of them have been trying out various melodies for the song; a ballad, a pop song, alternative rock. Nothing seems to stick.

“I can’t make any good songs.” Harry whines into his hands before bringing them up to rake through his hair.

“Alright, chill out.” YN looks at her frustrated friend with a pointed look, ready to not let him go into this self-deprecating state of mind. “I have a couple of voice notes on my phone with some melodies I came up with on the cuff. There’s got to be something on there that we can use, ok?”

Once she sees Harry give her a nod, she goes around to pat her pockets.

“Hey, has anyone seen my phone? Can someone call me?”

“I got it.” After a couple of clicks on Mitch’s phone, the sound of her classic telephone ringtone sounds somewhere behind her. Crawling over to the spot where her phone lies, she unlocks it with a quick type of her password.

“That’s your ringtone for me? Y’make it sound like an old man’s calling you.”

“I mean, you are pushing 31, mate.” She teases, still looking through her notes.

As Mitch is about to throw a witty comeback, an idea suddenly comes to mind.

“Wait, did you have that same ringtone when I called you that night?”

“Haven’t changed it since I met you. Why?” 

“Can I see that for a sec?" Mitch makes a beckoning motion with his hand at her guitalele in her lap. 

“If you think I’m changing it now, you are sadly mistaken, my friend.” 

Mitch doesn’t respond, instead he does a couple of experimental pucks on the strings. His eyebrows are furrowed, like he's trying to find the right key. 

YN just looks at him lazily, her eyelids feeling heavy as she slowly blinks at Mitch, tired from tonight's brainstorming session.

With a sigh, she goes back to her voice notes and as she's about to hit play on one, she hears Mitch pluck some notes at the base before strumming his finger quickly up and down the strings, ending it with a tap on the wood and repeating the melody.  

Harry’s head lifts from its position resting on top of the piano before looking to YN. She turns her gaze from their friend to Harry and no words need to be exchanged. It’s been decided.

The classic telephone ringtone.

“Mitch has a habit of not speaking a lot, and then every now and again he will kinda go like ‘Oh, I have this idea.’” Harry chuckles. “He’s really just a genius. The song is just really like articulation of Mitch’s brain. Even when Mitch plays to himself, he’s got the swing.”

Next Song Here! 🎹

Taglist:

@wobblymug @be-with-me-so-happily @ashtongivesmebutterflies @kiwiskiwiskiwi @darlingdesire @obsesseddd @hopefulwastelandcreation @cacapeepee

#harry x 1dbandmember!reader #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles x you #one direction #one direction fanfiction #writing fine line series #harry styles fanfic #since 2010 series #harry styles fic #harry styles writing

[runningfrom2am]

kinda famous - d.s.

summary: after mason's debut album charts in the top 100, she somehow got invited to the obx3 premiere. she went to make connections- but maybe not the exact kind she ends up leaving with.

this is a repost of the same fic from my otosimt series, just making some small changes :)

wc: 2.6k

tags/warnings: no warnings! just a meet-cute :), drew x musician!oc

requests (currently closed- feel free to send whatever but it will be a while before I get to them!)

nav/masterlists

series masterlist

Not a day went by this past year where Mason didn't consider herself incredibly lucky. Her debut album saw some medial success, landing her in the Spotify top one hundred with the help of a TikTok trend to some of the lyrics from her first single. She could hardly believe it was real, sometimes. What always helped, however, was having connections.

Her best friend, Este, was a makeup artist to the stars. She worked on movies like Avatar and even a few Marvel films, but most notably and most recently, she had been working with Madelyn Cline. They had taken a liking to each other, having been in touch about every event, shoot, and movie she had been working on in hopes of having her new friend style her look for the occasion. Luckily for Mason, Este was her number one fan - and hardly ever did she have a client who wasn't forced to sit through her album while she was blending out the makeup on their faces or curling their hair.

Madelyn, apparently, had loved it. In the words of her best friend, "She was just gushing over it! She requests your music every time she's in my chair. I swear." So, that is how Mason ended up at the OBX3 premiere, shaking hands with one of the most beautiful actresses of her generation while she complimented both her dress and her music.

"I am seriously such a big fan. Este put me on and I am literally obsessed," Madelyn smiled, dropping Mason's hand.

"Oh my god, you're such a sweetheart- stop." Mason laughed, waving her off.

She smiled and leaned in, resting her hand on Mason's shoulder as she whispered in her ear. "Between us, I can't confirm anything just yet, but I'm working on getting you a soundtrack offer for season four."

Mason gasped, her hands flying up to cover her mouth to hide her shock. "No, you're literally joking!"

The blonde smiled and shook her head, giggling and clapping her hands together excitedly. "We all listen to you on set- it's growing on the producers, I think."

"Oh my god- Obviously I am so down! Allegedly, of course," Mason smiled, winking at her.

"Yes, of course, allegedly," she laughed, matching Mason's wink. "I have to run, but we'll jump in for some photos together on the carpet, yeah?" Madelyn grinned, giving Mason a quick hug and brushing past her in the direction of the curtain where everyone lines up for photos.

Feeling absolutely giddy, Mason was quick to lift her dress and shuffle over to the makeup room, where Este was still working with some other clients doing some touch-ups. "Oh my god!" Mason smiled as she approached her chair, where Este was just wiping up. She cringed internally at the sound of her music playing over her desk speaker, hearing the way she swore that the man she wrote this song about was the love of her life, and she'd be a fool to let him go. It wasn't long after the release that she ended up having to, discovering he was cheating on her with a girl from their hometown.

"Mason! Hey girl! Did you get to talk to Mads?" Este asked, looking back at her over her shoulder.

"Yes! And I have some serious tea to tell you later. Well, not serious, but good! It's definitely tea," Mason explained vaguely, knowing she'll understand.

"Yay! Okay, we'll debrief after," Este nodded. "Did you talk to anyone else?"

Mason instantly shook her head as Este turned to face her. "God, no, I'm petrified." She didn't answer, holding her finger up in Mason's face and digging through her kit, and pulling out a brush.

"Look up," she said, pointing to the ceiling, and Mason obliged as she touched up the shadow under her eyes and brushed away some flaked mascara while she talked. "You need to. You've got to make some more connections- I can't carry you forever." She teased, placing the brush back in her belt when she was done. "They're a lovely cast, trust me."

Mason nodded a little, taking a deep breath. "I just like... don't know what to do. Do I just walk around and talk to people?"

"That's the beauty of it! You're already doing it. Just show that stunning face of yours to the cameras with this beautiful dress, smile, make small talk, and opportunity will fall into your lap. I know you- everyone will love you regardless." She mused, quickly adjusting the waistline of Mason's dress. "And report back to me, of course."

"You're not gonna come? I want some pictures with you. The world needs to see the artist behind this face," Mason grinned, gesturing to her face of makeup and wiggling her eyebrows.

"Yes, of course," Este giggled, smacking Mason's shoulder playfully. "I'll change and come find you."

Mason smiled and clapped her hands together, bouncing in her heels. "Let's go together! I think I have to because I'm basically your plus one."

"No, absolutely not," Este dismissed her quickly, closing up part of her kit and doing some quick organization. "You, my dearest Mason, need to prove your independence in the industry. Just because you put out your Lover Era album doesn't mean you can't stand proudly on your own after the breakup. Your energy will draw all the cute boys to you. I just know it." She joked at the end, but Mason knew she was serious about her sentiment.

Mason's breakup wasn't fresh anymore- she was right. It didn't hurt and keep her up all night over the heartache that she had assumed would never get better. She was thriving now, she felt like herself again. "That's not why I'm here and you know that," Mason giggled.

"Of course not... It just would be a nice bonus," Este shrugged. "Now shoo! You're distracting me. I'll see you in a few." She pushed Mason away, winking at her before returning to her cleanup duties.

Mason took a few breaths as she turned around, making a conscious effort to smile as she walked over to the curtain where the crew was organizing people and sending them out onto the carpet.

Luckily, she spotted the bar not far away and quickly made her way over to grab a quick glass of wine before she had to step out. She tried to sip on it casually, not wanting to draw attention to herself, but craving the buzz and freedom that comes with being a little tipsy around strangers.

"You're Mason Bell, right?" Someone approached her, and she quickly turned to the source of the voice.

"Yes, that's me," Mason smiled, securing her glass in one hand before holding out her hand to shake. The woman took it, smiling politely as she shook it.

"Lovely. We're ready for you whenever, just go check in with that lovely gentleman by the curtain and you're free to walk when you're ready," the woman smiled, quickly taking off to go deal with more crew business.

Mason leaned back against the bar, nursing her drink still and glancing in the direction of the dressing rooms and hoping Este would walk out in time to join her. She gave it another minute as she finished her drink, feeling adequately warmed by the alcohol in her system before approaching the curtain.

"Hey! Nice to meet you, I'm Mason Bell," she greeted the man with the clipboard and he nodded, giving her a thumbs up and holding the curtain back for her to step out. She took deep breaths and focused on smiling (and not tripping) as she took the few extra paces behind a wall before she'd be in view of the many cameras she could already see flashing at the cast and their friends standing already in their full view. She heard lots of voices as she walked up, but they somehow got a million times louder as she stepped into the lights.

This wasn't her first red carpet, but it was her first premiere. Besides the backdrop curtain, they had a variety of props from the show, including the Twinkie itself, making her giddy with excitement. She made a mental note to herself to not leave without a picture of her behind the wheel for her Instagram.

"Mason! Look over here!" She heard a dozen voices calling her name and she decided her best move was to smile and wave, stopping and placing one hand on her hip and just glancing across the whole crowd of cameramen and interviewers behind the small fence. She gave it a few moments to capture hopefully enough photos for their portfolios before an interviewer pulled her over to chat with them.

"Mason! So nice to meet you. You look absolutely stunning!" They grinned, shaking her hand and holding the mic up to her lips.

"Hello! And thank you so much! It's lovely to meet you too. What's your name?" Mason asked, smiling at them and giving a quick wave to the cameras still flashing in her face as they recorded her with one closer up.

"I'm Noah. I'm with Netflix just documenting everyone here tonight," He grinned. "So, we were all excited to hear you would be coming tonight! Are you a fan of the show?"

"Oh my god, I'm a huge fan," Mason gushed, looking around at the other people on the carpet. "I was just so lucky to be invited, I was ecstatic when I got the invitation from Madelyn. So nervous, though. So, so nervous."

"I can't imagine!" He chuckled, agreeing with her. "If it makes you feel any better, we've heard from a few members of the cast that they were looking forward to meeting you."

"That does actually help a lot, thank you," Mason giggled, a blush covering her cheeks. "You mind telling me who, though? I'd love to know who wants to talk to me and who I should probably not bother." She joked.

"Oh, nobody to avoid here. This is one of the nicest casts I've ever worked with," Noah assured her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "That being said, the boys seemed extra keen." He winked, making her laugh.

"Oh god, okay, I'll keep that in mind," Mason went along with it, looking around and seeing the rest of the cast goofing off a little ways away.

"So, I have to ask, Mason- keep in mind you don't have to answer if you don't want to, about your breakup, how are you doing? Your album is absolutely amazing, you told a beautiful story, but we've all heard about what happened afterward," He said, and Mason glanced down nervously, trying to maintain her smile as best she could.

"Yeah, totally. Uh- " She paused for a second. Her ex has never been in the public eye- they were high school sweethearts, which gave her album a sense of purity and authenticity that was almost rare in modern music. With that, however, comes a responsibility to keep him out of public scandal in the fallout of the album's success. "I am doing really well. I believe my ex is as well. Of course, he was always a huge inspiration for me, and he always supported me and my dreams, so I know he's still cheering me on, which is a nice feeling," Mason nodded, smiling as Noah dropped his arm from around her shoulders, patting her back.

"Well, you're stronger than I am because I would want him to be punching the air right now," Noah laughed.

"No! God, no, I'd never want that for him. I wish him all the success in the world, which just means something different for both of- " She tried to explain when she got bumped from behind and stumbled slightly forward. She let out a little squeak and tried to turn to look what happened when someone steadied her by her waist.

"Sorry, sweetheart. Didn't mean to knock you there," A man chuckled, making sure she was steady before letting her go. She was met with blue eyes that reflected the lights and the matching color of his suit just beautifully, and she quickly recognized him as Rafe- racking her brain for the actor's name. Drew- yes. That's it.

"No! No, you're fine—I was in the way," Mason said sheepishly, laughing it off and adjusting her dress again.

"Drew, Welcome back! While I've got you both here," Noah said, holding the microphone up to him as he nodded, leaning down a little in anticipation of the question. "Have you listened to Mason's album? We were just talking about it."

Drew nodded, smiling and locking eyes with Mason again briefly. "Yes, of course. It's both Maddie's favorites right now, they've always got it playing on set. If it wasn't so good I'd be sick of it." He chuckled.

"Aw—thank you!" Mason grinned. "Thanks for listening even if it's against your will." Her eyes connected again with Drew, and she felt herself blushing once more. He just had this aura about him that showed he was really listening and really cared about what she had to say. "Not to plug it here or anything, but we're almost at ten million streams on Spotify so I'm feeling really proud of it, it truly was a passion project for me. God, sorry I shouldn't be talking about that here..." She explained, looking back at the interviewer again, trailing off when she realized she was acting selfishly.

"No, don't apologize. You worked hard on it—you deserve to talk about it," Drew cut in before Noah could speak. "Everyone stream it—you won't regret it." He said, pointing to the camera.

"Yes, absolutely," Noah agreed. "We won't take up any more of your time, but I'll let you know we're all looking forward to your next album already." He smiled, giving Mason a quick hug.

"Thank you!" She waved as he and his crew were quick to move on to someone else. She took a deep breath, turning and jumping slightly when she saw Drew still standing there, looking down at her as she clasped her hand against her chest. "Oh, gosh. I didn't know you were still there," Mason giggled, quickly adjusting her hair.

"Sorry," Drew chuckled, holding his hand out to her. "We haven't properly met. I'm Drew. Or you might know me as Rafe, I guess."

She smiled, taking his hand and shaking it. "Mason. You might know me as the girl who got cheated on right after releasing an album about how amazing her relationship is."

This made him laugh, dropping his head back as he let go of her hand. "Hey, it's good to have a sense of humor about it, I guess." He said, locking eyes with her again. His charisma was truly captivating— it's rare to meet someone in the Hollywood scene who seemed to care about anyone other than themselves.

"I'm coping," Mason shrugged, laughing it off with him.

"Let's grab a few pictures together, then maybe a drink?" Drew suggested, guiding her back towards where the rest of the cast was taking photos with the beat-up van parked on the carpet. "I'll introduce you to everyone."

"Yeah! Yeah- thank you," Mason smiled, glancing over her shoulder and seeing Este stepping out. She quickly waved at Mason, giving her an excited look and a thumbs up, which she returned behind Drew's back.

No doubt the pictures of this moment will embarrass her tomorrow, but at least the debrief with Este in the Uber home will have a lot of good things to cover.

taglist: @bookishbabyyy@madelynie, @whore-4-drewstarkey, @slut4drudy, @winterrrnight, @totalswag, @sadfury@fullfledgedemo@rafemotherfuckingcameron, @urfaveluvr, @alimaythings, @chenslucy, @s-we-e-t-t-ea, @tahliac11, @saccharinesammie, @suzyheartsrafe, @maybankslover, @redhead1180, @lovelyxtommy, @thelomlisrafecameron, @realwifeofjackharlow

(sorry to tag everyone in this again!!)

#obx fanfic #obx #outer banks #obx3 #obx fanfiction #drew starkey obx #drew starkey #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey imagine #outer banks fanfiction

[louisupdates]

By Nicole Goodwin / Durham Reporter

21:35, 8 DEC 2022

There were tears as Louis Tomlinson fans met their idol at HMV in Newcastle this evening after queuing for a signed copy of his latest album, Faith in the Future.

But one of the most adorable reactions came from the singer's youngest fan in the queue, Jude Harrison, who was left in complete shock after meeting the former One Direction star.

After chatting to Louis and getting him to sign a copy of his album, the realisation soon set in for six-year-old Jude that he had just met his idol. And the look on his face was priceless as he walked away with his hand over his mouth trying to process the exciting moment.

Jude's mum Stacey said: "He's so chuffed, I haven't been able to put him to bed because he's that excited still. It's currently 15 minutes after his bedtime but he's still bouncing, still running about."

The 32-year-old, from Blaydon, added: "Straight away when we got home he was asking for the Alexa to play Louis. He's rang everybody he knows, FaceTimed everybody to show them his signed copy of the album, and told them the whole story and said Louis told me I've got lovely blue eyes."

Super-fan Jude likes to wake his mum up at six o'clock in the morning playing the Faith in the Future album, which was released in November. His favourite song is Written All Over Your Face, which is the second track on the album.

Jude became a fan of Louis during lockdown in 2020 after hearing some of his music. Stacey, Jude, and his five-month-old sister would have discos in the kitchen every day to try and lift the mood because they couldn't go anywhere due to Covid restrictions.

And after noticing her son was becoming a fan of Louis and One Direction, Stacey would pick out some of their songs for Jude to dance to during the kitchen discos. It wasn't long before Jude became a super-fan of Louis and he was ecstatic when he found out that he was going to meet his idol after Stacey secured a place for him at Louis album signing at HMV.

Stacey added: "I waited for four hours in a queue online to get the tickets but I didn't want to tell him until I knew I had tickets. When I eventually told him he couldn't believe it. He was so excited and was running round the dining room table."

Stacey explained that Jude had a couple of questions he wanted to ask Louis and she was a bit nervous about what he would say. And when the moment came Jude and one grilling question for the star - "Why do you swear so much in your songs?"

Jude continued to tell Louis that he wasn't allowed to sing those parts because "mummy said not to sing that part". Louis responded by laughing and telling Jude to "block your ears" during those lyrics.

Stacey added: "Louis said that Jude was the name of his favourite football player too. My Jude has no interest in football whatsoever but you'd think he was football's biggest fan by his reaction.

"He also said that Jude had lovely blue eyes and that was the bit Jude really loved, his eyes were like saucers. I had to usher Jude away in the end because I think he would have stood there all day but it was really nice of Louis to give him that time."

A video of Jude after meeting Louis

#louis press #hmv newcastle 2022 #louis and kids #youngest fan #fitf signings #8 december 2022

[tsumtsumrry]

Laura

the one where harry’s never home.

              (1.4k words)

“How many times to I have to fucking tell you? Huh?” Laura spits at him with very apparent anger and distress in her voice, throwing her arms in the air as she speaks and then bringing them back down to cross over her chest in almost a protective manner. 

“You ask me how I feel, then I tell you, and then you try to make me feel like I’m insane for the way I feel. You do it all the time!” she adds. She’s starting to lose her nerve and it’s becoming increasingly obvious that Harry doesn’t get it, nor does he care to. 

“Babe, I don’t know what you want me to do alright? You said you want me to spend more time with you, but I’m trying to get you to understand that I can’t do that with all the hours at the studio we’ve booked!”

“How hard is it to spend time with me, Harry? You are not at the studio twenty-four seven, you can take a fucking break!” Laura yells and she can see Harry flinch at the volume and hurt in her voice, but she doesn’t care, she keeps going. 

“I’m so done. So done with--with feeling like I’m the only one in this relationship. You’re never here, Harry. Ever. You have to know how tiring that is, you have to.” she says, her voice cracking and breaking sporadically throughout the sentence. 

She hates herself for feeling weak, for showing him any emotion. She’s stuck between wanting him to know that he’s hurting her and not wanting to give him the power to know that he has any affect on her at all. 

“You keep acting like you didn’t know how it was going to b-” Harry starts, but Laura interjects with an angry incredulous tone, feeling like if this were a cartoon you would surely see the steam coming out from her ears. 

“Are you kidding me? This isn’t how it was when it first started, even when you were doing the first album, hell, even when you were on fucking tour! This is an us thing, this isn’t just a ‘studio’ thing and you know it!”

Laura knows that Harry has never been good and communicating or showing any intense emotions. He’s not good with confrontation and always ends every argument before it starts with a simple “can we not do this right now?” or “can we talk about this later” accompanied with an empty “I love you” 

Laura knows they have to talk out their problems and she wishes they could, but Harry just won’t allow it, no matter how hard she tries. 

“It's obviously different now, Lore” she winces slightly at the nickname and he frowns at it “the second album is a lot more work and it’s a lot more important to me-” 

“More important to you than me?” Laura interjects. 

Harry stands there in silence for a second, like he’s actually thinking over it in his head and Laura presses a hand to her chest to deaden the pain before her heart cracks and she doubles over. She scoffs in disbelief and she starts to walk. 

Harry looks up and realizes he had been standing there just looking at her for a minute and he doesn’t even register what’s going on when Laura walks past him and into the direction of their bedroom. 

He thinks it’s just gonna be one of those nights where they argue and they both just drop it and go to sleep, and he’s grateful for that. It was a long day at the studio and he really doesn’t need this. 

He assumes that the sound of drawers slamming are just Laura being dramatic and getting settled into her pajamas, and the sound of commotion on the dresser is just her taking off her jewelry. 

He makes a cup of tea in all the time that Laura’s in the bedroom, probably sleeping and he sighs and allows himself to think about the events of today. It was a pretty good day at the studio, they got a good bit of work done and everything went relatively smoothly. 

Harry was very happy with all they’ve accomplished on the second album, he’s put everything he has into it and he can’t wait to share it with his fans. The album might be the most important thing in his life. 

All thoughts about the album, his immense success and adoring fans are wiped away so quickly it gives him whiplash when he sees Laura walking calmly out of their room with two full-looking suitcases packed. 

He jumps away from the counter he was leaning on and almost spills his tea in the process. He sets down his tea on the counter and tries to rush over to her to stop her but she’s not having any of it. 

“What? Lore--Laura, Lore stop.” 

Laura and Harry have had plenty of fights over the course of their five-year relationship, but it’s never ended with either of them packing any bags and walking out the door. The reality of the fact that Laura really might be leaving is hitting him like a freight train in the gut and he can already feel his chest tightening and tears welling up in his eyes.

“Laura, baby, please stop. We can--I can fix this. Just stop, please.” he rushes out, clearly in a panic. Laura whips her head around to let him talk, Harry wants her to give him another chance, and quite frankly so does she. So she’s giving him a shot to fix this, but he just stands there, his mouth opening and closing like he doesn’t know what to say. 

Laura thinks this should be easy for him, that he should have to do such an extensive search in his mind for why he loves his girlfriend and wants her to stay. Laura doesn’t think it should be like this. 

So she gets a tighter grip on the handle of her rolling suitcases and starts walking again. Harry immediately scrambles and tries to pull the suitcases out of her grasp and she only tightens her hold. “Harry. Just stop. This isn’t working. We aren’t working.” 

She’s currently battling emotionally with herself. She wants to give in like she always does and she doesn’t want to hurt Harry, but what about how she feels? This relationship is clearly draining her. Right? This is surely the right decision. Right? Laura’s is also physically battling with herself, forcing her eyes to stop the tears from falling down her face. She can’t cry right now. This is her being strong, this is her finally being strong. 

The tears are rolling down Harry’s cheeks faster now, his face flushed a tinted pink that could pass for red and his heart felt like it was beating faster than the speed of light. “No no no, just, please? I swear I’ll spend more time with you, I’ll stay home, I’ll do whatever, I’ll talk to you. Can you just….please?” 

His words are getting less and less coherent as his crying gets more and more amplified and Laura felt pain in her chest from seeing the person she loves so much in so much pain, but then she thought back to all the times where Harry would see her break down in front of him and he would brush it off, try to invalidate her feelings, or even say nothing. He didn’t give a shit when she was in pain. He didn’t care at all. 

At the realization she gives the suitcase a hard tug so Harry’s grip on it would be forced to be released and she started to walk faster. 

“Lore! Laura! Baby, stop, please please stop.” Harry started to run after her, pausing when she picked up her keys. 

She’s actually doing this. 

Laura stops her walking abruptly and a little hope sprouts in Harry’s heart, she looks down at her suitcase and then back at him. 

“I’m staying at my mom’s house for a bit.” A bit? Could this mean she was coming back? The little sprout of hope in Harry’s heart is getting ready to grow into a full blown tree and if he was sitting he’d be on the edge of his seat. 

“I’ll be back in the morning to pick up the rest of my stuff.” 

Harry’s heart drops so far and so hard that if it could, he feels it would’ve splattered and hit the floor, “baby?” He whispers softly, so softly that no one would hear it if there was one wheel on Laura’s suitcase that hitched and rubbed against the floor a bit. 

And he practically crumbles there on the floor when the door shuts with Laura on the other side of it.

#harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry writing #harry styles x oc #harry styles fics #harry styles angst #old

[apureniallsource]

Niall Horan tends to greet strangers with a compliment — which would be charming enough even if it weren’t delivered in a rich Irish accent and from the smiling mouth of an international pop star. “Love the glasses!” he cheers over Zoom, before eyeing my jacket: “And that, too!” I’m far from the only recipient of such warmth: In videos archived across the last 14 years, Horan greets loyal fans like old friends, eager to see them again, and treats journalists with a reverence that never comes across as hollow. Return the favor and he’ll hit you with cheeky bashfulness, like an exemplary student of the music industry’s best media training.

In 2023, Horan is far from his bottle-blond days spent in the world’s biggest boy band, One Direction, but the honest wholesomeness that made him America’s onetime favorite member and inspired some equally deranged and delightful memes (like the one that goes, “Imagine Niall Horan crawling inside your ear. You tell him to stop but he is in there”) still remains. And lately, everyone seems to want a piece of it, from world leaders — in March, he performed for President Joe Biden and Taoiseach Leo Varadkar at a White House event — to the millions of people who watch The Voice, where Horan serves as a coach and recently guided his mentee Gina Miles to the top prize. The Voice marks his first time working as a competition-show judge, but not his first time appearing on such a program: One Direction famously finished third on the United Kingdom’s X Factor in 2010 before going on to forever reshape boy bands as we know them.

For Horan — who will release his third album, The Show, on Friday — joining The Voice meant reconnecting with his 16-year-old self: the ambitious and courageous teen who toldThe X Factor judges back in 2010 that he was “ready to fill arenas around the world” before having sung a note. No wonder he was the first one selected for 1D after the boys were put together following their solo eliminations. (On the recent dearth of big pop groups, Horan thinks the future is all about the ladies: “I love Blackpink. All four of them have such individual personalities. That’s what made people love them.”) “I didn’t have anxieties then,” Horan laughs. “I was just having a great time.” That informs the advice he gives contestants. “On The Voice, you see a lot of technical singers who are very serious about what they do,” he says. “I’m just trying to get them to enjoy what they’re doing. You’re on one of the bigger shows in the country. Millions of people watch every night. Enjoy it.”

If there was any hesitancy in joining The Voice, an arena so similar to the one that kick-started it all for him, it was that he “wasn’t sure [if] it was going to be an overproduced thing where I get told what to do, say, and when to turn.” He smiles. “It’s absolutely not.”

Who can blame him for wanting some semblance of control? In the 1D days, cleanliness clauses threatened career consequences for any unsavory behaviors, and the band’s sheer popularity meant limited freedoms, a life of stalling in vans or rolling deep with security. “I couldn’t really go many places,” he says. “So I try to keep my private life as private as I possibly can. There’s a tendency in the world to take your arm off when you offer a handshake, you know what I mean?” He pauses. “But I’m not hiding.”

Niall Horan’s story is a master class in manifestation. The first voice in the 2013 documentary One Direction: This Is Us is his: “When I was small, I had a desk. It was weird because I wrote on it, ‘When I grow up, I want to be a singer,’” he says. “I scribed it in! It’s still on the desk.” Born and raised in Mullingar, Ireland, the only member of his group not from England, Horan describes his childhood self as both a prankster and a natural performer — he’d get in trouble for singing traditional Irish songs in the back of geometry class, embodying the same kind of irreverent playfulness that came to define 1D. (There’s a moment in the doc where Horan reveals he recorded “What Makes You Beautiful,” One Direction’s breakout hit, in his boxers, and another where he puts on prosthetics to disguise himself as arena security, unbeknownst to fans.)

One Direction sold 70 million albums and filled arenas and stadiums around the world before going on hiatus in 2016, but solo success wasn’t preordained. Horan’s first single, “This Town,” an acoustic slow burn, performed modestly but didn’t make it past the Top 20 in the United States. The funky follow-up “Slow Hands,” inspired by Eagles member Don Henley’s solo work, righted the ship. (Horan now calls Henley a close friend: “He’s always been very big on me being myself, not trying to chase anything that doesn’t exist — and he’s always there if I want to send him something and get a reaction,” he says.) Horan talks about the song with an air of relief. “The success of ‘Slow Hands’ and the first album felt like a big moment,” he says. “And the first tour — learning I can go around the world and still play to thousands.”

Another curveball came three years later, when he released his second album, the synth-pop-flavored Heartbreak Weather, on March 13, 2020 — the day the United States declared COVID-19 a national emergency. It was “a kick in the stomach,” as he describes it. “I was, like everyone, angry at the world for allowing this to happen,” he says. “And then the stillness took over for a second.”

Today, it’s hard to fight the impulse to eye-roll when celebrities talk about the pandemic, but Horan believes he, like everyone else, has been irrevocably changed by it. “I think I might be the eternal optimist,” he says. “I hadn’t had any time off in 10 years. I [thought I] might as well get fit and put the suitcase away in the closet for a little bit. Because at that point, my life was so rat race-y.” He spent his days working out, playing golf, and getting really into Formula 1. (Ask for his favorite driver, and he’ll give you the most Niall response of all time: “I’m a fan of nearly all of them.”) “The pandemic was horrific,” he says, but also: “It was boring! As a guy that travels the world on a regular basis, I was so bored.”

So he got to work on a new album sooner than he planned, writing the majority of The Show in Joshua Tree, without the kind of illicit substances musicians may be inclined to experiment without in the desert. (“No, jeez! No. Thankfully not,” he laughs.) The Show is Horan at his most adventurous, a kaleidoscope of pop-rock sounds of decades past, amped up for arena-sized grandeur. “I’m not just the fella with the acoustic guitar all the time,” he laughs. “I put my neck on the line.” The lustful track “On a Night Like Tonight,” for instance, starts off with a dreamy singer-songwriter intro before detouring into anthemic prog-rock — like Muse doing ’90s Britpop. “If you asked me to release a song like that seven years ago, I would’ve laughed in your face,” he says. “I’ve grown into it a bit. I gave myself permission. It’s probably not what people are expecting of me — and here’s my fingers crossed as tight as you can possibly get them.”

He describes the album as tackling “big life thoughts,” not just the kind you have after history-altering world events but also the ones on your mind as you approach your 30s. The first song he wrote for The Show was the title track, an ode to the gratitude he felt in a time of deep unrest. “You have to swim through the sh*t water to get to the clear stuff,” he explains. “Everything will be OK if you just see it out.” During the pandemic, he couldn’t help but think about how much better life was before, and how he should be thankful for it — or, at the very least, that he’s got to learn to take the good with the bad. The chorus goes like this: “If everything was simple, how would we know / How to fix your tears / How to fake a show / How to paint a smile / Yeah, how would we know / How good we have it, though?” “There’s a façade to most people,” Horan says, addressing the “how to fake a show” line. It’s not about going through the motions at a concert, but about the everyday performance of being a person. “I’m not saying we’re all going around faking everything, but there are parts of yourself you don’t give away.” He pauses. “I’m finding it hard to explain… In some ways, you’re always trying to be the best version of yourself.”

When Horan talks, he often punctuates vulnerabilities with a joke or a folksy aphorism. “The phrase in Ireland is ‘if you don’t laugh, you’ll cry,’” he laughs. But he doesn’t veer away from the hard stuff in song. “Meltdown,” the second single from The Show, was written as a balm for someone having an anxiety attack: “When it all melts down, I’ll be there,” he sings to the sufferer in the song’s chorus. “It’s at 180 BPM, which is a good representation of the heart rate [when beating fast],” he says, “but I also like to have a silver lining in my music.” (While he says he experiences anxiety on occasion, contrary to previous reports, he does not have severe OCD. “That got misconstrued,” he clarifies. “I’m not saying I’m fully OCD. [...] I’ve definitely had overwhelming moments.”)

When he does experience anxiety, he has a few grounding tactics. “I literally say to myself, ‘It’ll all be over in a few minutes. It’ll all be over in a few minutes.’ The thing to do in that scenario is try and keep yourself as calm as possible, and tell yourself that it will all be OK,” he says. “And weirdly enough, most of the time, it turns out OK.” Get this man a Calm app endorsement deal, stat.

That unrelenting optimism is a core facet of his personality. “I’ve always been like that: ‘This is sh*t, but I’m sure it’ll be OK soon,’” he says. But it perhaps accounts for just how well-adjusted he seems after going through the boy-band ringer and half a lifetime in the spotlight. He’s never been at the center of controversy, with the exception of dropping a curse here and there as a teen, which he does so now judiciously. (Recently, Horan enjoyed a pint of beer in a Guinness-branded documentary with singer Lewis Capaldi and was shown getting into a car and driving. His mum came to his defense, saying it was a nonalcoholic beverage. The debate ended there.) Even when I half-jokingly ask for his opinion on cults, a nod to The Show ballad “You Could Start A Cult,” he laughs. “It definitely worked as a metaphor for me! I don’t… no strong views on cults. At least, no public ones.”

That song, as he tells it, is about being so in love with someone that if they started a cult, you’d follow them into it. Is he madly in love right now? “That’s dead right.” He doesn’t mention his longtime girlfriend, account manager Amelia Woolley, by name because “if everyone knew everything, [my songwriting] wouldn’t be as candid, would it?” he says. “There’d be all these theories, and I’m not in town for that. I’m here to write what’s on my brain, and love happens to be one of those things that’s flying around me.”

Horan is staying accessible to fans in other ways, fully embracing the expectations of being a very famous person: He’s dropping skin care routines and goofing around on TikTok. This summer, he’s making his way across the festival circuit — good practice for 2024, when he’ll launch into the biggest solo tour of his career to date, which includes a headlining spot at Madison Square Garden, 12 years after 1D did the same. After a few disruptive years, he’s returned to the lifestyle that feels like home, now as a veteran professional and soloist in his own right. He’s the same nice guy, just with some life experience. And he’s enjoying the ride: “Looking at arenas full of people — it’s the best view in the world.”

#niall horan #08june