#Secure af... Old friends too i still feel good the rare times they come on and play its still that security feeling | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

glamrockmonarch · 5 years

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We Are The Lovers - PresentDay!Brian May (Fluff/Smut)

Requests: “Omg I’m a sucker for your older Brian! Could you maybe do something about Brian dating a younger woman who maybe had a kid from another relationship. I don’t even like kids but older dad bri is the sweetest, especially when you’ve written your previous blurbs! Yknow or something really smutty because countryside was bloody amazing! :P I love your blog so much, a definite favourite! XxxX” - Anon

“Okay but can we talk about reader taking care of the 7 musical fox cubs with present day!bri” - Anon

A/N: I put these two requests together simply because I could not help myself the mushy feeling that it brought into my heart. Also, Imma toot my own horn: this is cute af (although I did not proofread because ugh).

You held the little brown cub in your hands and stared down at Danny, your four-year-old son. He is quite inquisitive at the moment, his mind seemed to be more and more awake with every passing day and you sometimes had to make up explanations for his weirdest questions. Lucky for you, you had met Brian the year before and hit it off. Brian was now your boyfriend and although Danny had not spent much time with him, they liked each other, and Brian being a bright mind himself was fascinated by your son’s curiosity. In the past few days, you had been busy working so your son had stayed with Brian a few times during the afternoons, both of them getting to know each other better since you decided to introduce them a few weeks before.

Brian proved to be a wonderful man, and you trusted him to watch your son when you knew his own father would not. It broke your heart, but Danny was so young he could not yet realise how much his father rejected any type of contact with his son. You were just happy to have such an amazing man as Brian in your life who would listen to your son’s rambles and respond with some of his own, somehow Brian still kept up with the childish games, making your son laugh and more than often surprising him with incredible tales.

You were impressed a few days before when you arrived at your boyfriend’s place to pick up your child and found Brian holding a sleeping Danny.

“I showed him to make a stereoscope,” Brian had whispered with Danny fast asleep on his shoulder, Brian’s hand on your boy’s back.

Of course, when you arrived this morning at Brian’s place you were not exactly expecting him to have fox cubs curled up in his kitchen. Danny ran right up to Brian as he usually did, he also looked forward to seeing your boyfriend - at age four he was already on his way to learn how to play the piano, so meeting Brian made him realise he could also play the guitar. You were not too enthused by the prospect of loud evenings at home when he turned thirteen and “you just don’t get it, mom!” became a thing.

For now, Danny held a small furry cub in his small hands, cupping them, too scared of squeezing the animal too hard. This was something else that Brian had started teaching your son; animals are friends. And one must always watch out for his friends. Therefore, Dan was over the moon about the prospect of 1. being able to help save some cute animals, and 2. see something considered more of a baby than himself.

Brian brought a pair of bottles and handed you one of them while helping Danny feed his cub.

“You said they were red,” Danny accused your boyfriend, looking up at him.

With a side smile you looked up at him only for long enough to see him smile with that sort of satisfaction that seemed more personal than shared, he nodded and his curls bounced, he tilted his head to see Danny’s y/e/c eyes.

“They really don’t look it, do they?” Brian paused to watch Danny shake his head, “well, that’s because they are cubs, too young, Dan, to even open their eyes...but they will turn this beautiful ginger colour!”

“Their hair changes?” Danny stared down at the cub in his hands, then turned to look at Brian, “did your hair change too?”

You felt slightly embarrassed listening to the girly voice of your only son, too young to see how that could potentially be offensive. And still, Brian knew how children were and he enjoyed this dynamic with your little one, always curious he sometimes made odd deductions, trying to make sense of the world on his own - mostly getting it wrong but never failing to try.

“Yes!” Brian laughed, your red face turned to look at both males, you watched Dan’s face show an obvious shock while Brian laughed at the peculiar question. “It used to be so dark, almost black!”

Danny, whose hair was a dark shade of blond, just like his father turned to you.

“Mama, is my hair going to be white like Brian’s?” He asked you, his neck bending a funny way.

You shook your head and smiled up at Brian before turning back to your son.

“No,” you played a little bit with your son, “it will be red - like the cubs’!” You insisted.

Brian laughed with you at the expression of pure despair that located on your son’s face. It might have been a bit cruel but your son was so sweet and positive he immediately turned his frown upside down and turned to Brian.

“That means I will get a crown! Like, like...Harry!” He nodded enthusiastically, now excited about the prospect of getting ginger hair.

“I think this one has had enough, Danny...let’s feed one of his sisters, shall we?”

For the better part of the afternoon the three of you sat in Brian’s kitchen to babysit the cubs while Anne got there to pick them up, she was supposed to take them for the night and then pay a visit to the vet in the morning to make sure they were all alright, you could already tell that Danny would not take it well when he had to say goodbye to his sisters and brothers future gingers.

You offered to make dinner while Brian finished feeding the cubs with the willing help of your little boy, although he did not want you to do it on your own you had no problem finding your way around his kitchen. Placing pans on the stove and finding everything you needed in the fridge you stole glances at the two sitting on the floor with the furry animals.

“Why not, Brian?” You thought, “as if I wasn’t already in love: you’re good to Danny too!”

For Brian it was not intentional, he genuinely enjoyed the company of your son; seeing the little boy understand him more and more every time they met.

By the time Anne came and picked up the little fox cubs, Danny was ready to turn in for the night; after having dinner all three of you, the day seemed to have drained his young body of all energy.

As Brian’s friend left, you sat back at the dinner table with your son, pulling him on your lap and allowing for his little arms to wrap around your neck as he cuddled with you, nuzzled in your hair on your shoulder, he fell asleep quickly after proclaiming his admiration for Brian.

“I like Bri, can we hang out tomorrow too?”

This made you laugh, so you nodded and kissed his forehead. “You’ll have to ask him, but I think he would love to!”

The sweet boy pouted and searched for your cheek, kissing you loudly before settling in your arms, feeling loved and safe.

Danny often reminded you of his father, but it was days like this when you saw him as the different person he was; the man he would someday become. You could see him growing closer to Brian, looking up to him and learning with him. You liked this warmth that spread through your chest when Brian came back in and you had your hand on Danny’s messy hair, your cheek against his forehead.

“Is he out?” Your boyfriend wondered.

Smiling you mouthed a yes, not daring to move yet.

“A sweet kid,” Brian praised.

Your boyfriend started picking up the plates and taking them to the kitchen. After he put everything away he came back and leant down to press a soft kiss against your temple, his hand squeezing your shoulder with a tender touch.

“We should go,” you whispered, reaching up and placing your hand on his still on your shoulder.

Brian sighed and looked back at the hall leading to the door. “I’ll just get my jacket.”

“That’s okay, I’ll take an uber.”

“No.”

He stood his ground and left you to get his black jacket on; coming back holding both yours and Danny’s. He watched you get up from the chair and wrapped your jacket around your shoulders and covered part of Danny’s body with it as well.

“Thanks,” you mumbled at him, giving him a toothy grin.

Brian rarely drove his car, so you took it this was a sort of special occasion. You had to sit Danny in the backseat to secure the seat belt around his body, much to your surprise he did not wake up. Riding in the front next to Brian you picked up a light conversation, joking and laughing together while he drove.

“Alright, alright, next time you have to cook!” You teased him after he told you about his mother’s cooking skills.

“No, no...I wouldn’t do her any justice, love.” Brian patted your knee.

As his fingers lingered on your exposed skin, you brought your hand on top of his and giggled.

“Should’ve thought of that before telling me!”

Brian turned his hand around so your fingers could intertwine and you looked back at Danny for a moment, checking on him.

“He wants to hang out with you tomorrow.” You wiggled your brows at Brian and heard him chuckle. “Maybe you could come at...let’s say six?”

“Yes, of course.” Brian smiled, trying to hide his enthusiasm and failing to do so.

Arriving at your place Brian picked Danny out from the seat and carried him inside while you opened and held the door open for him. Closing it carefully behind him, you pointed the way to his room. At last, Brian placed your son on his own bed and you took off his size two sneakers, placing them on the ground before pulling his pjs out of one of the drawers with Brian watching you, helping as he could. Your boyfriend picked up the dinosaurs pjs and warmed them up in his hands while you got Danny out of his little jeans and jumper.

“Thanks,” you said to Brian as he handed you a warmed up pair of pants.

“You know, I am a parent too.” He reminded you.

You rolled your eyes at his comment, it was not like you could forget with all what was being said on the press about how you were younger than his youngest daughter and all…

Kissing your son’s cheek you pulled the covers over his body and wished him sweet dreams. Brian watched your every move, admiring you and taking you in. It had not been long that he was presented to this side of you: the motherly one. He was completely lost in the tenderness of your eyes when you looked at your baby boy; the boy was bright as a red light. Brian was taken aback by some of his reasonings, he was not a bad kid only a curious confident one; which was not always easy to deal with...but entertaining for sure.

When you stood from the side of Danny's bed Brian kissed his palm and pressed it gently on the kid’s forehead. How could he not? The boy was making it hard for him not to spend the entire day by your side.

Stepping out of the dark child’s room, you waited for Brian. Opening your arms you invited your boyfriend in for a hug once he closed the door behind himself. With your arms wrapped around his shoulders, you smiled and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

“I think you have made a little friend, Dr. May,” you squeezed your lips together to stop from laughing.

“I think I have!” He pecked the tip of your nose. “Goodnight.”

Brian kissed you again, his arms still wrapped around your waist, although this time you felt attached to him, refusing to let him go, heat spreading from within your stomach as you felt lips move against yours ever so slowly. Following his lead you slid your hands down his neck and followed the line provided by his unbuttoned shirt, tickling him with the tips of your fingers.

Recognising the need in your kiss, Brian pulled you closer, sneaking his hands down your back until he reached your butt and squeezed you against him, making you whine.

“Don’t leave,” you mumbled against his lips, barely opening your eyes with your nose grazing his as you felt your heartbeat quicken.

Unable to resist, Brian tilted his head and captured your lips in a new hard kiss. He slid his tongue inside your mouth and made you weak in the knees.

Stepping back in the direction of your room down the hall, you slipped from his grasp with swollen lips.

“You coming?” You asked him playfully.

Brian followed as you turned around and made your way to your own room, throwing your jacket away on the floor as Brian closed the door behind you, locking it just in case. You went to your dresser to take your earrings off and step out of your shoes, only for Brian to come up behind you. His hand pulls your hair to the side and he starts kissing your neck, now touching your sides and pushing his body on yours, his growing erection pressed against your arse. You tilt your head to the side and finish taking the earrings and bracelets off in time for his hands to come up and squeeze your breasts. You had only slept together a couple of times, but you already knew that he could get quite dominant if he meant to. Seemingly, tonight he was going for it.

“You’re so soft,” he spoke on your ear and you were left with nothing to do but let him feel you up in front of your dresser mirror.

You gasped at his touch once his calloused hands went under your skirt and squeezed your butt, reaching up you tangled your hands on his hair and arched your back against him. Brian’s hands followed the line of your panties and then he sneaked his hand inside them, his fingers brushing right over your clit, your legs almost giving out as he went further and slid two fingers inside your wet pussy, pumping them rather harshly as he watched you in the mirror. Eyes closed and mouth hanging open.

“Brian…” you felt your own juices coating his fingers as his fingers fucked you.

Brian kissed your shoulder and you touched his cheek, a miserable moan escaping your lips as you tried to stand on your feet the whole time.

“Feels good?” Brian bit your shoulder. “Does it feel good, love?”

“Yes…” you had to support yourself on the dresser when he slid his thumb across your clit, his fingers still working your pussy. “Brian-yes!” You felt yourself edging closer as he curled his fingers inside you, playing with you a little rough. “I want you, I want you so bad...Bri…” You admitted.

“Show me.”

Brian watched in ecstasy as you started to come undone under his touch. You opened your eyes and found him staring, you stared back into his dark eyes as he brought you closer to the edge, and finally, you bit your lip as you came, aware that you could not get too loud with Danny in the house.

Brian took in a deep breath as you clenched around his fingers and he loved the feeling, knowing he was making you feel this good. He let go of you and watched as you turned around in wobbly legs; you kissed him and sucked on his bottom lip.

“Can I make you feel good too, Bri?” You started undoing a couple of buttons Brian actually buttoned that morning.

With a smile you pushed his shirt off and pushed your dress off, letting it fall to the ground and pool around you as you took off your bra and watched Brian take his pants off. You climbed on the bed and pulled the covers away so at least those would be at the feet of the bed and wouldn’t be stained with your body fluids by morning. Brian dropped his underwear along with the rest of your clothes and climbed on top of you, kissing your back and leaving a trail up your body with his lips. You turned and faced him, eager to take off your panties, you kissed his cheek and neck as you wiggled out of the little pink underwear, now soaked by your previous orgasm. You watched Brian lick his lips before kissing you, returning the gesture he bit your lip and made you moan when he pulled your legs apart and teased you by sliding his cock along your slit. You wrapped your legs around his waist and put your arms under his, brushing his back with your fingertips as you arched your back, giving him good access to your neck and breasts. Brian gave your neck small playful bites and left open-mouthed kisses along the valley of your breasts before taking his cock in his hand, driving it right into your wetness, he pressed his nose against your cheek and reveled in the feeling of your tight pussy around him as he sank inside you in a single hard thrust, your moan lost in a gasp as you felt him fill you up. With little time to adjust you dug your nails on his back and kissed his cheek and chin as he pulled almost all the way out, thrusting his hips right back into yours, picking up a steady pace soon, leaving you moaning and gasping for air, your hips jerking up to meet his, your body felt hot and his skin on yours was the sweetest burn of them all… You hooked your leg to his hip and felt your toes curl in pure pleasure as his cock brushed against your most sensitive spot, somewhere so deep inside you your first instinct was to clench around him. Brian moaned along with you, feeling close, encouraged by the quiet sounds leaving your mouth, you just felt so good wrapped around him. So warm and welcoming.

“Bri, don’t stop, I-” you slid your hands down his back and tried your best to pull him closer to you, wanting nothing more than to have him buried inside you, fucking you so well, you threw your head, “‘m cumming…”

“Yeah?” Brian remained relentless in his ministrations, “cum for me, love.”

Brian breathed heavily against your neck, his hips losing their regular pace as he too neared his own orgasm; he kissed your collarbone and pulled your hips forward as he fucked you through your high, feeling your walls clench and release and clench again around him. So perfect he could not help himself, he emptied his seed inside you.

Your hand dragged up to his shoulders and you cupped his face with one hand, watching his face as he came, his cock twitching inside you still; his eyes were closed and his mouth pouted the form of a little “o”. You kissed the corner of his lips and felt his lips look for yours, letting him find them you kissed again, your bodies brushing against each other for a moment longer before Brian pulled away and rolled away from you on his back so he would not crush you under his weight when he collapsed, exhausted as he was.

After a few minutes catching your breaths, Brian rolled on his side and kissed your shoulder, seeing some marks left by himself all over your body.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, getting up and going into your bathroom.

Brian helped you clean up and after throwing the paper towel away, he came back to bed, holding you in his arms as you rested your head on his chest.

“I’m so glad I didn’t give up birth control…” you mumbled half-jokingly.

“That’ll be two of us.” Brian agreed, his thumb caressing your skin as it went back and forth.

“Only two,” you tilt your head back and look up at him, “Danny has been wondering if I’ll “get him” a brother soon.”

Brian simply chuckled. “What have you told him?”

“I offered to take him to the movies instead,” you smile and laugh, covering your face for a moment, “he forgot everything about it!”

Brian laughed along with you, pulling you closer to him. “I tell you, wonderful child!”

#brian may #brian may imagine #present day brian may #present day stuff #present day brian may x reader #present day brian may x young reader #young reader is a mom #reader is a mom #brian may fic #brian may fanfiction #brian may fluff #brian may smut #queen #queen fandom #queen fanfiction

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dailydoseofbeautiful-image · 4 years

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1) IT’S OKAY TO FAIL

I’m not sure how other 34 year olds feel when their 35th birthday is coming up. As for me, I felt like my failures grew more apparent. Celebrate what you HAVE accomplished and be grateful for another day.

2) CRAVE TO BE A BEGINNER AGAIN

I’ve been wanting to try something new for a good minute. Like point number one, it’s okay to fail at something! This goes hand in hand with being a beginner. I strongly believe in being a student of life. I always wanted to learn a new language.

3) LOVE YOUR PARENTS

We are often so busy growing up, we often forget they are also growing old! If you needed a reminder to call your parents, this is it. Do it now! My mom is my world. She was my worst enemy as a teenager but now my best friend as an adult <3

4) MOVE AT YOUR OWN PACE

Fuck what everyone is doing on Instagram. Fuck what your high school friends are doing. Fuck what your college friends are doing. Live your life at your own pace. If you had kids or want kids before marriage, fuck it. If you chose your career before a man, FUCK IT. You will move at the pace that is meant for YOU.

5) SO LIVE THE LIFE AND TAKE EVERY CHANCE TO BE AS HAPPY AS YOU CAN BE..

Being true to yourself takes guts. First, you’ve got to face everything around you and figure out what is important; what you think really counts ;). second, you’ve got to interact with a lot of people who may see things differently.

6) RELATIONSHIPS

No relationship is perfect, ever. There are always some ways you have to bend, to compromise, to give something up in order to gain something greater... The love we have for each other is bigger than these small differences. and that’s the key. it’s like a big pie chart, and the love in a relationship has to be the biggest piece. Love can make up for a lot.

7) SOULMATE

A true soul mate is probably the most important person you’ll ever meet, because they tear down your walls and smack you awake. But to live with a soul mate forever? Nah.. too painful. soul mates, they come into your life just to reveal another layer of yourself to you, and then Leave.

8) 30S ARE BETTER THAN YOUR 20S

It’s the same! Except we’re still young enough to have fun without making dumb decisions. We’re also more mindful financially! We always have experienced and seen things and know what not to repeat. I feel a little more at ease at 30. I’m caring less about what other people think. I really don’t have energy for it anymore!

9) WEAR THE FUCKING SUNSCREEN

My mom always told me to wear sunscreen on my face. I never listened. I have a lot of sunspots on my face now! Wearing sunscreen helps protect you from skin cancer, wrinkles and sunspots/freckles. If you aren’t listening to ya mama, listen to me! lol I wear Glossier’s Invisible Shield, but they’ve been sold out for a good minute. So, I’m currently using Super Goop’s Sunscreen Moisturizer. So far, it hasn’t made me break out!

10) TAKE OFF YOUR MAKE UP BEFORE BED

At the very least, keep some make up removal wipes beside your bed! I know we’re tired af at the end of the night, but you’ll be doing your skin a huge favor in the long run. Just know that make up wipes don’t take off everything, you’d be surprised how much is still on your face! So always try to go further and do your skin care routine.

11) LIFE

This Life is what you make it. no matter what, you’re going to mess up sometimes. it’s a universal truth. But the good part is you get to decide how you’re going to mess it up. Girl’s will be your Friends - they’ll act like it anyways. but just remember, some come, some go. the ones that stay with you through everything- they’re your true best friends. don’t let go of them. As for Lovers, well, they’ll come and go too. And i hate to say it, most of them - actually pretty much all of them are going to break your heart, but you can’t give up because if yoi give up, you’ll never find your soulmate, you’ll never find that half who makes you whole and that goes for everything. just because you fail once, doesn’t mean you’re gonna fail at everything. keep trying, hold on, and always, always, always believe in yourself, because if you don’t, then who will? so keep your head high, keep your chin up, and most importantly, keep smiling, because life’s a beautiful thing and there’s so much to smile about.

12) GIVE YOURSELF CREDIT

Everyone on social media posts their highlight reels but only a few share the grit and grind behind it all. Don’t forget to give yourself credit even for the smallest things that you don’t think is “post worthy”. Pat yourself on the back!

13) BE MORE SELF AWARE OF HOW YOU REACT TO OTHERS

I strongly believe in the butterfly effect. How you treat others can leave a positive or negative effect on them. I always try my best to be kind to others. If I can’t be kind, I’m very quiet! Even if people are mean to me, I think deeper like are they having a bad day? Maybe my kind act can help them change their mood.

14) BE NICE AND EXPECT NOTHING IN RETURN

Best recipe to live by. So many people offer a lending hand but expect so much in return.

15) DON’T FORCE THINGS – LET IT FLOW ORGANICALLY

Someone who forces shit to happen is ignorant & aggressive. You can’t force relationships or friendships to work out. It doesn’t work that way if it’s ONE SIDED. Sometimes, TIME helps a situation out. Let it play out, what’s destined to be yours will be yours!!! All relationships should be bloomed organically. Always try to understand one another. Some people don’t move like you and that’s okay.

16) YOU DON’T TOLERATE PEOPLE OR SITUATIONS LIKE YOU USED TO

Enough said. Ain’t no body got time for that.

17) IT’S NORMAL TO SEE A THERAPIST

You don’t have to be “crazy” to see a therapist. I did and it was life changing. There’s a huge stigma with mental health, but it’s actually more common than people think. People struggle with it daily but hide it because of the stigma. I also found out that students who are trying to become a therapist offer free or very affordable services to those who don’t have insurance! Check out any college and I’m sure you’ll find something fitting!

18) MEDITATE.. DO THAT SHIT PLS

Practice your breathing too! Headspace is really helpful app that concentrates on various subjects: anxiety, depression, stress, etc. I don’t meditate long! It can be as little as 3 minutes. Taking a moment to find yourself again can help you in the long run.

19) NOW’S THE TIME TO SEE THE WORLD

BITCH, you better be planning to travel!!!!! I can’t emphasize this enough. If you’re a woman reading this, we MUST DO IT NOW. Before you have kids, just do yourself this favor. You won’t regret it. Seeing parts of the world has broaden my perspective immensely!

20) MARI KONDO THE SHIT OUT OF YOUR LIFE: CLOTHES, BOOKS…PEOPLE

I’m at this point in my life where I’m looking at everything and everyONE and ask myself, does this spark joy?! It’s completely necessary for you to start fresh and say thank you to things and people who no longer serve a purpose in your life.

21) IF YOU DON’T HEAL WHAT HURT YOU, YOU WILL BLEED ON PEOPLE WHO DIDN’T CUT YOU (@THEASLAYWAY)

You can’t rely on someone else to fill the void you were supposed to heal yourself first. Don’t be selfish and make sure that you are completed healed when moving on to the next partner!

22) DO WHAT YOU WANT, POST WHAT YOU WANT, LIVE HOW YOU WANT!!!!

WE AINT GIVIN A FUCK IN 2019 & MOVING FORWARD. Go ahead and post what you want. We’re not living for the validation of others.

23) DON’T LIVE SOMEONE ELSE’S DREAM

Currently trying to get through this right now. lol

24) MENTAL HEALTH IS JUST AS IMPORTANT AS YOUR PHYSICAL HEALTH

This goes with 17 & 18. If I sound like I’m repeating myself, then it’s because I really am adamant about it! I didn’t always have GAD, but when I realized I had it, I learned to take the necessary steps to control my anxiety. I realized working out in the gym is not the only “exercising” I should be doing. I should be practicing affirmation, gratitude & meditation.

25) BE CAREFUL WHO YOU GET CLOSE TO

Some people really just in it for the gossip. Keep your circle tight and you’ll be aiite. For me, being in the social media industry has led me to meet several people. It’s rare to meet someone genuine, so I always make sure I keep my distance but still always show respect and give them an opportunity to open up.

26) OTHER PEOPLE MAY BE TOXIC IN YOUR LIFE, BUT MAKE SURE YOU’RE NOT THE TOXIC ONE

As you get older, accountability will help you grow. Owning up to your actions towards others can help you realize how you react towards others or situations. Before pointing fingers, make sure your hands are clean. I’m a strong believer of what you give this world is gonna come back to you.

27) PLEASE DON’T WORK OUT ON ONLY BOOTY AND ABS

I remember signing up for the gym and telling the membership counselor my goal was to grow a bigger butt and get abs. I’ve learned that your body works as a whole unit, not in isolation! Overall strength over aesthetic is the wave! I love being strong <3

28) RESEARCH HOW YOU CAN IDENTIFY PERSONALITY DISORDERS

You’ll come across people in your life that you can’t see eye to eye with. It could be family, your partner or your friends. I think it’s important to grasp a better understanding of personality traits/disorders such as narcissism, bipolar, emotional abusers, psychopaths, etc. They come or are in your life more often than you think! Not only do I suggest to gain insight on it, but also I recommend researching how to DEAL with it. I promise you things will come to light once you do.

29) LOVE YOURSELF – YOU CAN’T SERVE FROM AN EMPTY VESSEL

Your 20s are your selfish years. Remember to put yourself FIRST. We cannot love someone successfully without loving ourselves first. Our first love should be ourselves to know how WE want to be loved. We must feel secure before stepping into anything serious. Live life for yourself, be gracious and love yourself wholeheartedly.

30) BEFORE YOU ARGUE

Before you argue with someone, ask yourself, is that person even mentally mature enough to grasp the concept of different perspectives? Because if not, there’s absolutely no point.

31) NEVER TAKE RESPONSIBILITY

never take responsibility for ppl not seing your worth. There was nothing u could have changed them. No perfection would have made them loyal. No sacrifice would have them made committed. Stop taking blame for decisions that aren't yours

32) Success is never owned.. it’s rented, and the rent is due everyday. -pacman

33) SOMETIMES

I care too much, I trust too much, I think too much, I love too much, everything about me is just too much. But even so I wouldn’t want to change that about me. Just holding onto the hope that one day my “too much” will be everything someone could ever want.

34) FROM GOOD THINGS TO BAD THINGS

From good things, we learn to be a thankful person. From bad things, we learn to be a strong person. Remember that everything will not go the way you want it to. It's a matter of learning that life isn't handed to you. Stop worrying about what others want. Think about what you want, if you listen too much to what people say about you, you will never be who you really are.

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remoonusarchive · 4 years

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The Future of Remus John Lupin

Mostly based on canon.

Older FC: Andrew Garfield

ft. @pctterprongs @rattypeter @morallyblack @bloomingevans @wixenprince @marymacdonalds @antonindolohcvs

First War

(( Wartime headcanons here ))

He isn’t around in 1981 enough to worry about who might be a traitor.

It goes without saying that Sirius will be the Potters’ Secret Keeper, so Remus isn’t surprised when he hears of the plan. He knows it will make Sirius an obvious target which he hates, but he can’t offer himself up for the job when he is away so much and at such a high risk of dying every Full Moon.

He doesn’t ask to be given the secret. It’s better if less people know, even if he wouldn’t be able to tell anybody else and he doesn’t want to risk Voldemort using a wolf pack to kill the family if Remus were able to find them.

End of the War

Remus starts to make headway with Greyback’s pack a few weeks after the October Full Moon, to the point where he is finally trusted enough to be allowed to come and go as he pleases. As soon as he is left alone, Remus sneaks off, with the intention to send an update to Dumbledore.

However, something within him is telling him to go to Godric’s Hollow and as soon as he remembers what is in Godric’s Hollow, he feels his heart drop to his stomach. He apparates to the village to find a house in such ruins that the Fidelius has broken and hoards of mourners filling the streets. He finds a copy of the Daily Prophet and discovers that it is 7th November and that his life had ended a week before without his knowing.

He goes immediately to Hogwarts where Dumbledore confirms everything the paper had said. Remus struggles to process the information. None of it makes sense to him -- that James and Lily could be dead. That Peter could be dead. That Sirius could be the one who betrayed them. He doesn’t believe it, but Dumbledore speaks much too reasonably to see how it could be false. The evidence only points in that direction. That Sirius was Secret Keeper (and Remus doesn’t believe his friends would ever lie to him, so when they told him Sirius would be Secret Keeper it must have been true). That dozens of witnesses had watched Sirius kill Peter (Remus throws up right there in Dumbledore’s office and tries to convince himself that it’s because the next Full Moon is now only a few days away). That there was no other explanation.

He assumes he has simply missed Sirius’s trial when he hears he is already in Azkaban and only finds out years later that there never was one. By then, his urges to reopen the case are dismissed by anybody he tries to talk to.

He asks where Harry is, only to be fobbed off with platitudes about how the boy is safe, excuses that his location cannot be compromised, and reminders that Remus would never be suitable to take custody of the child.

Though Dumbledore tried to talk to Remus about the Order continuing their work, and especially about keeping up the work with the werewolves to promote peace but Remus was in too much shock to listen. Desperate to get away from everything, he flees to Belgium where he stays for the Full Moon on November 11th.

He missed the funerals.

“The Lost Years”

Remus settles into a routine of a couple of weeks of menial work, followed by a Full Moon usually abroad, apparating back to Mary’s house where he collapses on her doorstep, lets her heal his wounds and grieves with her before he goes back to looking for a new job now that he has lost the last one.

He spends a lot of time without a fixed address, slowly chips away at money left to him by his mother and by James and spends most of his earnings on fuelling his old cigarette addiction and his newfound alcohol addiction.

He keeps trying to look for Harry but Dumbledore has put too many security charms over Privet Drive for him to be successful and everybody in the know has been told not to tell him anything. By Halloween 1982, he has given up, too depressed to try any longer.

Honestly it’s depressing af and I don’t want to talk about it, if you feel like crying there’s a whole Pinterest board of pain here.

He visits Lyall a couple of times but their relationship hadn’t been the same since Remus first found out the truth about his bite and it has been even more stilted since Hope’s death. The end of the war has been good to Lyall, who finally seems happy, and Remus felt too much like he was the reason Lyall had been unhappy before, so he stops going back.

Lyall dies about two years after the end of the war and leaves Remus with everything he had at the end. Remus sells most of it, including the house, keeping only Hope’s record player and records. Eventually, he runs out of money and has to sell those, too.

He never manages to find it in him to hate Sirius, and he hates himself for that.

Professor RJ Lupin

He’s squatting in a tumble-down cottage in Yorkshire when Sirius escapes Azkaban, and hears the news from Dumbledore himself who comes to ‘his house’ to a. Deliver the news and b. Ask him to be the new Defence teacher at Hogwarts.

Remus agrees despite the dumbassery that is Dumbledore refusing him access to Harry’s life until now because Remus is a pushover who still thinks the sun shines out Dumbledore’s arse.

Wow don’t think about what went through his mind when he realises Harry is in his compartment.

Remus is ashamed to reveal who he is to Harry so when Dumbledore tells him not to say anything, he doesn’t question it, only goes along with it.

The fact that he still cares for Sirius plays a large part in his not telling anybody about the different passageways into the school he knows the faculty do not know about, as well as Sirius’ animagus abilities.

When he gets to the new home McGonagall has insisted on finding for him (and paid his first six months worth of rent for) after he resigns, he has a breakdown over everything that went wrong.

1994-1997

Remus does start up a letter correspondence with Harry after his teaching career is over, though it is a little erratic thanks to full moons and Remus’ general disorganisation whenever he doesn’t have a routine. He writes to Sirius, too.

Snape keeps making wolfsbane for him, which he takes every month from his resignation from Hogwarts until he goes back to the wolf packs in September 1996.

It is a little too easy to fall back into depression when all his attempts to find a job are met with hostility. Umbridge’s new laws make it almost impossible, as they even make it so the Ministry could arrest him for seeking employment in the Muggle world. His year at Hogwarts has, at least, been enough for him to stop drinking and he doesn’t smoke as much these days either, so he lives on the money he had earned and the ridiculously high severance pay Dumbledore had given him for that year, but he rarely leaves the house and he loses track of the days to the point where the Full Moon sometimes creeps up on him.

(At some point he probably asked Snape what the fuck he was doing at his house because he thought the Full Moon was still two weeks away)

Sirius showing up on his doorstep with the news that Voldemort is back and Harry saw it happen is like a punch to the stomach. Remus almost wants to say he can’t do this again but then— well he hasn’t been doing anything else productive, has he? He needs to be needed and that’s how he finds himself handing in his notice on his flat and joining Sirius at Grimmauld Place.

After Sirius’s death, nobody is there to stop Remus going back to the werewolves even though it destroyed him the first time (:

1997-1998

It’s easier to say no to Tonks when he was literally in the same school year as her parents and she’s more than twenty years younger than him and he’s become closer to Mary over the years who would definitely not want him to enter a relationship with her goddaughter just because none of James, Sirius and Lily are there to tell him that’s a dumb idea and that neither of them deserve that.

He doesn’t have a reason to go into hiding without having a family because he’s only trying to stay alive at this point for Harry so helping with the war is the only option in his mind. It’s honestly very hard to see him not still going to Harry and asking to join the golden trio and as he’s not running from his unborn child and Harry wouldn’t want to see him go back to werewolf packs there’s a chance it actually ends up happening but I might as well rewrite the entire last book if I say that happened so instead let’s say the Order is still active enough and he has enough to do away from the wolves to keep him busy.

By the time he gets to the Battle of Hogwarts, he’s so tired of living, he’s just trying to do anything he can to make sure Harry gets through it but he’s firing offensive spell after offensive spell at two Death Eaters at once and doesn’t even attempt to defend himself.

He’s killed by Antonin Dolohov at the Battle of Hogwarts.

#*flashforward #*dev #*hc #death cw #depression cw #alcoholism cw #homelessness cw #i'm upset #the happy one is coming soon #future bios

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atomchois · 5 years

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(hello it’s kit again with another bangtan boy. insert real application here when it’s posted bc i didn’t save it bc i’m garbage so rn just have the parts i can remember)

( kim seokjin, cismale, he/him. ) — ATOM CHOI has lived at the L.A Coterie for SIX (??) MONTHS. They’re TWENTY FIVE(??) years old, and working as a BUG BOUNTY HUNTER. Sometimes when you walk by their door, you can hear KEANU REEVES by LOGIC playing.

Atom was born in Los Angeles, California, his parents having immigrated only a few years before with his older sister. The move had been financially tough for the family, and it was something they never quite recovered from. Growing up Atom was taught to not ask for much, and to expect even less. He knew it wasn’t because his parents didn’t love him, they one thing they were in abundance of during his childhood was love. But it got to a point in his life where it felt like it wasn’t enough. Seeing kids at school with their amazing lunches and fancy clothes made Atom feel... Kind of worthless.

It was during high school that he started to lash out, it started with stealing small things and getting away with it, which then turned to stealing bigger things. There had been more than once Atom had to run away from cops, and for some reason he loved the adrenaline of the chase. He smoked, drank, and got into fights, and it was during this stage of his life that he met Carson. Atom had never met anyone like her before, and it wasn’t long before friendship turned into something more. They loved each other, but they were so bad for each other, egging each other on and provoking when maybe they shouldn’t be provoked. It was the two of them against the world, until Carson realized that the world had more in it than just them. Knowing she had to get her act together she broke up with Atom, leaving him devastated.

Atom couldn’t stand the thought of staying in California, so he packed his prized possessions, some clothes, and all the money he had in a bag, and hitch hiked. He didn’t know where he was going, and it took weeks for him to settle, couch surfing with strangers he met (most of which, also liked to party), until finally he settled in Vermont. One of the guys he’d met on the road had a room for rent, and he couldn’t turn it down. After Carson, Atom didn’t think he could fall in love again, not like that. That was until he met Alek.

As much as he should have seen the signs, Atom didn’t realize just how hard and fast he fell for the man a few years younger than him. It didn’t take long until they were spending more time with each other than without, always at each other’s houses, and by the end they were almost inseparable. Which, is what made it so hard to juggle time when Atom finally found a purpose in life. Through a friend of a friend, of an acquaintance of a friend, Atom was introduced into the cyber security world. Informally for those who don’t have government based jobs, this is simply hacking. It was the first thing in his life that Atom had been good at, and he became obsessed. The ninety five percent of his time he spent with Alek was slowly dropping lower and lower. Which very much was a problem as Atom convinced Alek to move to California with him due him wanting to both go to college, and his homesickness.

The move had been hard on Alek, having to leave his family, and his mom, and his everything. And Atom should definitely have been more attentive to him. However, it was the first time in his life he was good at something, and could really be great and apply himself while actually still enjoying the task. Over the months he paid less and less attention to his boyfriend, only crawling back to him late at night when it suited him most. Alek was growing to resent him, and Atom had no idea. They started to fight more and more until one day it was the last straw, and it was over.

Now, you’ll find Atom in his room, engulfed in darkness except for the dim light spilling from his monitor, wrapped in a blanket with his earphones in playing his favorite music. He rarely leaves, concentrating hard on sorting through more and more layers of code, until he has something suitable to report to a company. Bug bounty hunting is huge if you know what you’re doing, especially if you can successfully find and properly report a bug within companies like Apple or even Facebook. While those are few and far between, there are other companies that offer good money, too. With the large payouts that Atom can get, let’s just say he doesn’t spend it wisely, often opting to flaunt it rather than save it. What else are you doing to do when you grew up poor?

Atom goes out to raging parties maybe once a month, spending hundreds upon hundreds on alcohol and drugs.

He’s an actual goblin when he’s working, having stashes of food saved in his room so he rarely has to leave. It’s a problem. Please make him shower.

After his two very much failed relationships, he’s decided the whole love thing isn’t for him. However he rarely goes out to seek one night stands, only really taking people as they come.

When he is your friend, he’s boisterous and loud, an image of who he was before he started to rebel.

With being boisterous and loud comes being dramatic AF. Death is solution to any minor inconvenience.

#coterieintro

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notafeeling · 7 years

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hullo here's the Longass Brooklyn Nine Nine Sanders Sides AU One Person Asked For and I Desperately Wanted an Excuse to Do ahhhHHH ive talked about this so many times but im happy to do it again because i love both these fandoms GENERAL: - they work in new york at the ninety ninth precinct as detectives - the youngest is roman, followed by virgil, then patton and then logan - thomas is in this AU but not as a detective PATTON: - think charles "washing your partner's hair is the most romantic thing you can do with your fingers" mother-hen boyle - ...minus his tendencies to talk about his frankly disgusting sex life. - he loves everyone and would do anything to protect them. even if that means taking a bullet for them. he's ALWAYS on virgil's side no matter what, and would follow him to the ends of the earth - oh my god okay virgil and patton having a jake-rosa type friendship. they met in the academy and have been looking out for each other ever since. - the only time anyone's seen patton angry is when virgil got shot. the wound wasn't too bad - more of a graze really - but he had to be held back for charging after the shooter unarmed - patton seems innocent, but nothing slips past him. the arrestees try to make fun of him but he never cracks. - one time he just talked about his day with someone he arrested in the interrogation room until they finally give up and confess to "STOP HEARING ABOUT FUCKING RAINBOWS" - he's one of the best at getting confessions, but the worst at anything athletic. he has two left feet, but is scarily accurate with a gun. (the others don't know this, and patton refuses to tell them.) - he's single but wants a kid. logan doesn't know, but when he leaves his office patton sneaks in to talk to his son (explained later) - veryyyy pan and open about it relationships: - virgil, i've already discussed. they're the tightest best friends (and most protective) that you've ever seen. patton adores virgil and often, finds him crashing at his place at 3 in the morning. patton doesn't mind, since it means virgil has finally given in and quit working for the day. - with roman, patton isn't as intense with his worrying but he is ALWAYS concerned about him. patton hates seeing him get hurt - and even worse, getting shit for being gay. patton has gotten quite a few close-minded cops fired. often, patton's the only one roman will turn to when he's going through a rough patch. - patton respects logan. it took a while for them to warm up to each other but now it's not uncommon to see pat seated inside logan's office (who has tried and failed to get patton to call him Captain Sanders. pat may be respectful but "captain" isn't in his vocabulary unless it's applied to pirates") LOGAN: - the captain of the detective squad. he was the newest addition to the ro-pat-virge friendship and took the longest to get along with them. - he's very much a holt - a frickin genius, bad at expressing emotions but understands them and incredibly... extra. - he loves annoying roman because his detective often has no clue he's doing it on purpose. virgil has more of an idea, but he's still clueless in logan's opinion. - for someone so strict, he's incredibly relaxed when it comes to any of the three using his office for games such as "who can do the most accurate and offensive impression of one of the other suckers outside this room" - more often than not he's walked in to see roman moving robotically and using sophisticated words... incorrectly. that bugs logan more than the terrible robot impression. - he loves puzzles and analysing people. however, he's slightly ashamed of the fact that he has a psychology degree. - logan's divorced and has a fifteen year old kid named thomas. rarely - very rarely - the others catch a glimpse of the teen being brought into his office by a strange woman and logan trying his best to entertain the kid all day. his worst fear is thomas being hurt because of him - he's asexual and demi(homo)romantic, but he's not open about it. he's only told roman - and that was when ro convinced him to go to the annual precinct party and he got a little drunk. relationships: - he trusts patton the most, but is closest with roman. something about his infuriating detective makes him interested in hearing whatever dramatic adventure roman went on that day. plus, he's incredibly fun and easy to get riled up. through roman's influence he's allowed himself to get closer with everyone and relax a tiny smidge. - patton, he adores. the detective is so bubbly and so much more complex than logan originally credited. patton insists on heart-to-hearts which end up with logan revealing the truth about thomas and patton saying he already knew, and explaining that he always plays with him. logan admires patton's charisma, but loathes how easily he trusts everyone. one day, patton's gonna get hurt doing that. - with virgil, they're the Salty Bros. logan finds himself sharing virgil's dislike of small talk and worry over patton. they think he'll be taken advantage of. anyways, he walked in one of virgil's panic attacks and talked him through it. ever since, virgil goes to him if not patton and logan closes his blinds and shuts his office for the rest of the day. no one is allowed in unless it's life or death as he cares for virge as delicately as possible. virgil's the second to be (accidentally) introduced to his kid because of this. VIRGIL: - he's the hardest working out of the lot of them and, when trying to solve a particularly tough case, almost refuses to go home. by day three patton intervenes and drags him to his house and forces him to sleep. - he hates people getting hurt. he blames himself every single time - it's a habit that logan tries to get him out of. patton doesn't know (or so he thinks) and roman, well, roman's the same. - virgil's sort of like an amy/gina fusion (discussed with sam). he starts off not really caring about anyone apart from patton who he's known forever, but now he'd die for them. often, he tries to take bullets (both literally and figuratively) for them. roman hates this and once, the time virgil got hit, he took refused to look at him until he finally exploded and yelled at him for risking himself like that - logan and patton steered clear of that argument and let them work it out. it ended with ro and virge crying but reconciled. - virgil is uncomfortable around young kids because he's afraid he'll somehow hurt them or teach them a new swear, but with teenagers he knows to either let them rant or mutually ignore each other on their phones. (it doesn't apply to thomas though - which struck virgil as odd. maybe more on that later?) - he's... not straight. that's all he knows and everyone thinks he's just closed about it, but they know he's not straight too. relationships: - closest with patton and trusts him the most. they've kissed once in the rush of the moment and it frustrates him that patton never brings it up (but then again, that's such a relief because virgil can't deal with emotions). above all, they're best friends. have been for what feels like forever. virgil loves patton more than anything (take that any way you want because virge can't tell which way it is either) - he and roman are the dramatic pair. somehow there's always Something crazy to talk about whenever they see each other. roman is like a brother to virgil - they fight, sure, but at the end of the day, they would kill anyone who hurt the other. - he loves complaining about things with logan. he also loves teasing him over every little thing - but logan returns it with sniping comebacks. virgil loves these. he helps logan stop stressing and is often the one who invites him out to places, knowing what it feels like to be excluded. he rants about the State of the World™ and logan pitches in with his own bits of wisdom. to virgil, logan is a comforting presence. he seems invincible to virgil (until the day thomas insults logan out of Teen Angst™™™ and his captain shuts off completely, unmoving and unable to stop virgil panicking). ROMAN: - athletic, sassy and incredibly talented. he was the first to the precinct but is the youngest (but shhh, the others are unaware considering he refuses to have a birthday party). he's the tallest though, and loves teasing them for it. - he may be gay af but he flirts with anyone his age, and often virgil or logan has to drag roman away from the holding cell ("i was just asking for proof of identity!" "you asked for his number." "...his social security number!!!") - He Has A Boyfriend (no one knows who it is. it's an open polyamorous relationship and boyfriend singular is an understatement. they'll stop by but because it's not the same consistent boyfriend the others just haven't made the connection) - he's only been broken up with once. it was his first ever longterm boyfriend, and it was a few months after he became apart of the ninety-ninth precinct. virgil saw and that's how that started talking - with virge awkwardly comforting a stranger shoving chocolate into his mouth. - roman once had to go undercover but only logan knows this (since he knows everything about everyone, not because he sent ro on it). when he came back, patton was the newest member of the squad and virgil hung around him and only him. it was lonely as fuck, but roman had learnt during his time undercover that your real emotions could never be shown. he employs dramatic gestures and sugared words to destroy the memories of the things he's done. if the world loves him, maybe he'll love himself one day. relationships: - he and virgil have since reconnected. roman lied about why he was gone for so long and virge let the topic drop. he goes to virgil to help patch him up after a chase because he knows his friend wouldn't spill. roman's bitter about virgil's relationship with patton because he was replaced, but he won't say anything. he has to be a good friend. virgil needs more support than he does, in roman's opinion. - he gifts logan puzzles with thousands of pieces. they take forever to find but he loves seeing the stoic captain smile. roman's the only one to call him captain, but nowadays he doesn't do it as often. his method of relieving logan's stress involves gossiping and trying to throw dance parties in his office. logan is the only one he trusts to talk about Memories™ with, because somehow, his captain always knows the right thing to say. - him and patton are like two peas in a pod. they're always coming up with crazy ideas and they both care so much about everything and everyone. he doesn't blame patton for virgil being better friends with him than ro, but when he and pat go out and he gets reallyyyy drunk, he tells him how much it hurts sometimes (among other things that roman doesnt remember revealing about himself in the morning) THOMAS: - he was only 12 when his parents got divorced. he mostly lives with his mum. she complains about logan a lot, so over the years he's gotten a negative opinion of him. however, recently he's started seeing his father more because he LOVES the police station. - he especially loves patton, who brings him cookies. virgil strikes him as odd but once they found they shared their love of MCR, thomas actually slips out of logan's office to seek him out. - he's actually very sweet when it comes down to it. with patton, he refuses to swear and with virgil, he swears to tell v off for swearing. a week before christmas he gives patton a bear from build-a-bear and virgil purple earphones, but he does so by leaving them on logan's desk as he and logan leave for the day, because he knows patton lets himself in and would see it and give virgil his present. - he wants to be a doctor when he grows up. he really likes helping people but also, a small part of him wants to be able to take care of his dad should the need arise. - thomas also is Aware of everything relationship-wise in the precinct (aside for anything about roman, who he still hasn't met yet.)

#sanders sides #hc #au #b99 au #moxiety #ish #prince #logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #alcohol tw #blood tw #injury tw #guns tw

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holsthoughts · 5 years

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t h r e e

this post, entirely about gabbie hanna. which is very fitting considering i associate the number three with her.

where to start? i suppose at the beginning. that being september 2016.

i don't remember exactly when but sometime before drop the mic tour i fell in love with her videos, and i mean i fell fuckin hard lol. i just connected to her on a way i didn't really understand as a just-turned-sixteen-year-old girl. anyway, the first video i remember being posted after i started stanning was ‘how social media ruins relationships’ a dance video, that gabbie rarely posts but has stuck with me as my first proper memory of her. and the beginning of something mad.

if anyone reading this doesn't know gabbie (hi, were have u been?) she's a youtuber. she's the gal in my icon <3 not only is she a youtuber she's also. musician (currently with six (technically 7) songs out and an album called ‘this time next year’ on the way), author (of adultolescence which reached number 3 (three, see?) on the New York times bestseller list, with book two on the way also), illustrator (of said ny times bestselling book and various other designs), tv host (for a while on the revamped TRL) and so much more but of course i'm biased and could go o forever so i'll leave it there.

after deciding to subscribe and do the general social media stalk of and internet personality of someone i’ve just found i was obsessed and over two years later, still am <3

i changed my twitter @ to a gabbie fan account, made friends (with some of the most amazing people) and just felt so at home. sounds crazy but it was like something clicked and not only did i fall in love with gabbie, i also fell in love with her community.

january 2017; something past 2am, i'm awake for some apparent reason and gabbie goes live on live.ly (i know, long ago) of course i join and this is where I got my first gabbie notice (which i know isn't everything but it was something so heartwarming knowing that after a couple months she saw me) she did this emoji game where she’d act out an emoji and the first person to correctly guess and send it in the chat would be ‘best friended’. in this stream she also announced that she’d be coming to london for summer in the city.

summer in the city is a video convention in the uk (obv) in august, this was suuucchhh a big deal as i was already planning to go and the fact that she’d be there was the BEST feeling ever. in the time between she announced and it finally came around i got my follow from her on twitter (which also has a cute story behind it - i made a deal with my step dad, if I got an A in any of my january exams (which i was getting the results for on March 3rd) he would buy me my ticket to sitc. so of course i was v nervous, went to bed - or at least tried to - the night before and work up on the third to gabbie’s follow, which probably doesn't sound like a big deal so literally everyone else ever but it just felt like a lil ‘good luck, u got this’ from her which meant frickin everything. so i got an A, therefore got my ticket and was so ready for august.

august 2017; the fourth of august, my mam, joel and i set off to london on the mega bus. me excited as anything as i was on my way to london after not having gone for about 6 years, getting ready to see three of my best pals (who i was meeting for the first time the next day because of gabbie) and also preparing myself to see gab irl for the first time ever. right as i saw about to try and sleep i got a message from a twitter mutual of a video of gabbie saying hi to me after they’d met her at their hotel lobby, i lost my mind and couldn't sleep after, naturally. the fifth of august, i got up in a shitty ibis budget hotel room in barking early af to get ready and make sure i looked presentable to go to the excel (which was an hour away on the tube, nightmare), went to breakfast and was too nervous to eat lmao (not like me AT ALL) and then we were off. i met chaz first, then eli then toni who where the best company that weekend and i'm so grateful for them. we waited two hours at main stage for the comedy panel to be able to get front row to see gabbie at her first sitc 2017 panel which was crazy emotional. i screamed, laughed, cried (yes, cried) and lost my fucking mind at gabbie literally jumping off the fucking stage and run over to chaz (who i was standing next to) and hugged her and then toni. frickin insane dude. we had such a good day and were all buzzing to se meeting gabbie the next day. the sixth of august, maybe my favourite day of my entire life <3 we ended up leaving the hotel late which wasn't fun considering gabbie had a panel at 12 and of course we wanted to get front row. chaz managed to get there first and toni and i joined her, the doors opened and we (along with the 15 others who also wanted front row ran to the queue, literally RAN and i do not run usually, sis made an exception for my fave <3 anyway we got front row and eli (who was late) sat behind us and we watched gab so sooo well. she kept looking over at us and making cute faces, looking right fuckin at us whilst mentioning her community and projects etc. and she done so fuckin well when hazel hayes (a knob) literally came for her for absolutely no reason, which tuned into a joke lol. next, another main stage panel which we got to second row for since we were late as the schedule didn't have that panel on it LOL (ty for that sitc) next, my fave part, getting legend herself<333 toni and eli went earlier than chaz and i because they had to leave early. chaz and i tried to wait until last but some bitchy af girls were doing the same and we heard that she might have to leave early so joined the queue. meeting her; my favourite moment ever. has went first and i stood recording until gabbie says to chaz “ya who’s the rest of the squad” making me lose me mind internally LOL, i knew she knew about us since chaz had dm’ed her saying and gab had said that she was looking out for us in the crowd of panels AWW. chaz said about how eli and toni had come earlier and then said “so its just me and holly left” and at that moment gabbie looked at me, right into my fucking soul and said “hi holly!” and opened her arms to me <333 OUCH IM SOFT. she was and still is the best. we had a cute AF lil convo where she told the security (because they were looking at us stupid bc of how excited we all were and also bc she spent so much longer with us than anyone else lmao) that chaz an i “are twitter icons” which i died at ouchie. she then complemented my hair (which i’d dyed purple and blue to match hers - cringe, yes - to then find out she dyed hers blonde a week before london LMAO of course. i told her how i also got my nose pierced bc of her and she told me “you gotta do all these now” showing me her ears that had SIX new piercings that she’d got for a vid that wasn't out at the time, saying “next time i see you, next year, you better have five” which of course i did literally five days after meeting her lol, love that for me, even though i didn't see her the next year (ouch)

skipping a lot but gabbie truly means so so much to me, and this for sure won't be the last time i do a post about her. she truly deserves the world <3

- h

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lodelss · 4 years

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“Do You Get Shit for Your Name?”

Osama Shehzad | Longreads | August 2020 | 3,543 words (14 minutes)

“Passport please,” asks the security officer, an Indian-British woman, at London’s Heathrow airport.

I hand her my green Pakistani passport, and she thumbs through it to get to the page with my visa. I am travelling to America where I’ve lived since 2009 on either student or work visas.

As she examines my passport, she frowns and then lifts her head to look at me.

“Osama?”

I reply with a nod and a small wry smile, as I always do when people ask to confirm my name.

She leans over and asks in a hushed voice, “Do you get shit for your name in America?”

I was born and raised in Karachi, Pakistan, where Osama was — and still remains — a popular name.

My grandfather, a poet, named me Osama because he wanted a name without a harsh stop at its end, a name that would flow smoothly off the tongue to my last name, Shehzad.

My elementary school Koran teacher, Qari Sahab, tells me Osama is an ancient Arabic name that translates to “lion.” It is popular throughout the Muslim world because Prophet Muhammad chose that name for his adopted grandson.

“What is your name beta?” asks the uncle, an old friend of my father who is over at our place with his wife for tea. The uncle emigrated to the U.S. in the ‘80s and has rarely visited Karachi since. This is my first time meeting him.

“Osama,” I reply.

“Oye, you are hiding here in Karachi and Bush is looking for you everywhere,” replies the uncle and everyone in the drawing room gives out a courteous chuckle for his attempt to lighten the mood.

“Good luck getting a visa to America,” his wife adds.

“You should change your name,” the uncle instructs me.

“Chai piyo aur niklo,” I feel like telling him, but instead reply with a polite “Okay.”

“Be prepared,” warns Mrs. Isani when I tell her that I have decided to attend college in Atlanta, Georgia.

Mrs. Isani is my high school counselor. She is, I guesstimate, around 85 if not older. She is a soft-spoken but straight-to-the-point Parsi lady.

“The American South is a racist place,” she tells me. “I am afraid you will be bullied because of your name.”

“You are applying for an American visa?” people in my high school mockingly remark when I tell them about my college aspirations.

“I thought you were planning on going to Georgia, the country in Eastern Europe,” comments one friend. I wonder if he is showing off his knowledge of world geography or highlighting his apparent lack thereof.

“You will never get a visa to America.”

It’s 2008 and America has just elected a new president with a name only one letter different from mine. Obama dares everyone to hope. I hope that Americans don’t judge people by their names.

My parents tell me that I shouldn’t feel ashamed if I want to go by another name when I’m in America.

I can tell they feel responsible for giving me a once-beautiful, now-wretched name.

They even make suggestions: maybe a condensed Sam? Or a Western-sounding Sammy? Or Two-Two, a pet name they reveal they had used for a few days in the hospital — the room in which I was born was numbered 22 — before my ultimate name was assigned to me.

I try to put myself in the shoes of an American college student and contemplate which name can be more easily made fun of: Osama or Two-Two?

“You should just go by Shehzad in America,” suggests a high school friend. “I’ve heard people in the West just go by their last names.”

“Mister Shehzad,” I say out loud to him. “It does have a nice ring to it.”

“Sounds like Mister Bond.”

“Maybe I should go by Double-O Seven?”

“Or better, you should come up with your own number. How about Zero Zero Nine Two?”

“Zero Zero Nine Two…” I repeat to check how it sounds.

“Don’t do it. They’ll think you’re a telephone from Karachi.”

“Visa milgaya apko?” asks the airline employee with a tinge of sarcasm as I check in to my flight at Karachi’s Jinnah International Airport.

There are no direct flights from Pakistan to America. I fly from Karachi to Dubai to London to Chicago. Phupho and Phupha, my aunt and uncle who live in Indianapolis, will pick me up from O’Hare and then drive me to my college in Atlanta.

As I wait at Heathrow to board my final flight, I practice introducing myself to others. I try to imagine every possible reaction from them — and what an appropriate polite response to it might be.

If someone were to start laughing and ask, “Are you serious?” I would pretend to laugh too and say, “Obviously not, I’m Sam.”

If they called me a terrorist or tried to punch me, I would run away. Where? I am not sure. Maybe back to my dorm?

If they walked away because they didn’t want to talk to anyone who had a name like mine, I would just put my head down in shame.

I wonder if I need to say sorry for going by my own name.

On the flight from London to Chicago, a white American woman is sitting next to me.

I am worried: will she ask what my name is? I debate if I should tell her my name is Osama. Maybe I shouldn’t because we are on a plane.

We talk briefly but she never asks.

There is always a pause after I tell people my name in college. I see a split-second hesitation in their eyes. I feel embarrassed for putting them in this situation. I don’t know what to do. I end up smiling a lot.

“Osama?” People repeat my name, sometimes a few times, to confirm they heard it correctly.

“Yes, Osama,” I say.

“Obama?” Some people ask me.

“No,” I correct them. “Osama.”

“Ajay?”

“Bro, how the fuck did you hear me say Ajay?” I want to ask this weirdo.

Instead I politely correct him. “No, Osama.”

I watch Office Space for the first time with people in my freshman dorm. They claim to have seen it multiple times.

“Michael…” a woman reads out a man’s name in one scene, before pausing with astonished eyes, “Bolton?”

“That’s me,” says Bolton, who we can tell has been in this situation too many times before.

“Wow,” exclaims the woman. “Is that your real name?”

Everyone around me laughs. I am tense. I wonder how Bolton will respond to this. I also wonder if anyone is looking at me, trying to see how I react to this scene. So I keep my eyes glued to the screen and smile.

“Yeah,” says Bolton curtly as he clears his throat.

“So are you related to that singer guy?”

“No,” clarifies Bolton, who’s trying to end the conversation. “It’s just a coincidence.”

“Oh,” says the woman, seemingly disappointed, as she walks away.

When Bolton’s cubicle mate, Samir, complains that no one in America can say his last name correctly, Bolton says, “well at least your name isn’t Michael Bolton.”

“You know there is nothing wrong with that name,” Samir tells him.

“There was nothing wrong with that name,” corrects Bolton. “Until I was about 12 years old and that no-talent ass clown became famous and started winning Grammys.”

“Well why don’t you just go by Mike instead of Michael?” suggests Samir.

“No way, why should I change? He is the one who sucks.”

On Facebook I notice that some other Osamas — whom I knew from Pakistan and who had also come to America — have now tweaked their names. They go by Sam or Mo or Sammy. No one goes by Two-Two or Zero Zero Nine Two.

I wonder if their experience as an Osama in America is different from mine. It probably is, I tell myself.

Sometimes I wonder what other Osamas in the world, not just in America, are experiencing.

“Wait, wait,” says a guy at a frat party. He is trying to hush the three other people whom I have also just met for the first time, and who are standing in a circle with us.

“I have to ask you a question, Osama,” he says.

The way he emphasizes my name. I know where this is going.

“Are you related to…” He pauses for dramatic effect and then adds, “Osama bin Laden?”

He delivers his punchline and looks around the circle as he laughs. The two guys, both wearing identical Braves hats, smile.

The one other person in the circle, a girl who I think is in the same CS1371 section as me, squirms with an uncomfortable expression on her face.

“This is awkward as fuck,” I can hear her thinking in her head.

I contemplate changing the spelling of my name: Usama Ousama Oouussaammahh Okssamta (the k and the t would be silent)

I read somewhere that self-deprecating humor makes you appear more relatable and therefore more attractive.

A Starbucks opens in the library. It is quickly the most popular spot on campus. Lines are always long and sometimes extend out of the building during finals week.

Even though the baristas ask for my name every time and spell it correctly on the cup when they write it down, I notice that they never say it out loud.

I feel bad for putting the barista in a position where they are afraid to offend someone by calling them an Osama.

I tell this story to all my college friends. I end it with the punchline, “So I guess everyone has name troubles at Starbucks.”

People laugh in acknowledgement; even though their name is Gracie, Chris, or Zach and mine is Osama, we share the same inconveniences at Starbucks.

“See, we have so much in common,” they say.

It’s 2010 and a Pakistani man tries to blow up Times Square.

His last name is Shahzad.

My last name is Shehzad.

I tell myself that at least the spellings are not the same.

“Do you always tell people that your name is Osama,” friends ask me.

“Yes,” I usually reply with a nod. “Except when I am on a plane,” I add after a slight pause for dramatic effect.

“If I asked the guy sitting next to me on the plane what his name was and he replied ‘Osama,’” I say with a laugh, “I would freak out too.”

This is a joke I often crack about my own name. It always gets laughs.

“Yo, check out the time,” my friend tells me.

I check my phone. It is 9:11pm. I look back at him.

He has a proud smirk on his face.

My friends and I are watching Russell Peters’ stand-up show on YouTube.

“What’s your name?” Peters asks someone in the crowd.

“Anthony,” the guy replies.

“What’s your Asian name?” asks Russell back.

The person is reluctant to share his name at first but does so after Peters insists. Peters then goes on to make fun of his name and his ethnicity.

I shudder when I try to imagine what Russell Peters, or any comedian, would do with my name.

“Kahan say arahay hain?” asks the immigration officer in Karachi as I hand him my Pakistani passport.

“America,” I reply.

As he stamps the green pages of my green passport, he asks, “Wahan loog mazak to nahi uratay apka?”

Do you get shit for your name over there?

I am watching Jon Stewart clips on YouTube when I stumble across his interview with Bassem Youssef in Egypt.

Stewart narrates his encounter with an “incredibly hospitable” refugee in Jordan.

Towards the end of a heartwarming interaction, a deeply moved Stewart asks the refugee for his name. The refugee replies, “Osama.”

Stewart pauses on that punchline.

And then in Stewart-like broken sentences, collecting his thoughts on stereotypes and ignorance in general, he says, “So that was a… it was difficult… it’s a kind of thing that you need to open up your heart to.”

I wonder if it is this difficult for everyone in America when I tell them that my name is Osama.

I start a summer internship at a technology company in Atlanta.

A few days into the internship, Jie, an intern who is an international student from China, tells me that he will now go by the name Humphrey.

I ask him why he decided to go by a different name than Jie.

He says his manager, who is also Asian, advised him to pick an American name to go by in the office.

“It is better for my professional career,” he tells me.

I change my Facebook display picture to my college graduation photo. In the photo I have a mortarboard on my head, a degree in my hand, and a big smile on my face.

A friend comments on it with a pun.

Awesome-A

I smile when I read it. I never realized that Osama could sound like Awesome.

“I’m authentic, real name, no gimmicks”

— Drake

I move to New York City for my first job out of school. On my first day, a coworker asks me if I have seen Office Space.

“Yeah bro,” I tell him. “Such a classic”.

“You know the character Michael Bolton from Office Space?”

I see where he is going with this.

“Why should I change my name?” He says.

“He is the one who sucks,” I complete the sentence.

He nods at me with a big satisfied smile on his face and extends his fist.

I fist-bump him.

I feel as if I just passed Steve’s Assimilation Test.

“Do you get extra shit at the airport when you enter America?” A coworker asks as he pumps the dispenser to top off a half-sipped coffee mug . “Like, do they strip search you and shit?”

Browsing the shelves of McNally Jackson in Soho, I come across a short story collection by an author named Osama Alomar. He is a Syrian immigrant now living in Chicago.

I buy the book, The Teeth of the Comb and Other Stories, and read it in one sitting in Washington Square Park. His stories are very short, some only a few sentences long.

One of them is called “The Name.”

I download a dating app and set up a profile.

“Will our first date be a blast?” A brunette in the West Village messages me.

I unmatch her.

I match with a Muslim grad student at Columbia. The first message she sends me: “Please be honest, do people give you shit for your name?”

I unmatch her too.

A hot blonde in Williamsburg messages me. “Come bomb my pussy.”

I wonder if this is an invitation to sext. Maybe? But probably not. I unmatch her too.

I am browsing books at WORD in Greenpoint when I overhear a comedy show taking place in the building’s basement.

I stand near the entrance, trying to listen without paying for a ticket.

A stand-up comedian finishes her set and the next one introduces himself.

I hear his name: Osama. (I later learn that he spells it Usama.)

He makes fun of his own name. He cracks some jokes that are very similar to mine. He tells a story of how he freaked out when his friend shouted his name at the airport. I have a similar story that I tell to make people laugh.

I wonder if all of us Osamas (and Usamas) make the same jokes about our name.

Often, once I get to know someone and we are a little more comfortable around each other, they tell me, “I am sure you get this a lot, but sorry, I’ve always wanted to ask you something.”

In the middle of the first heartfelt conversation with a new friend, he will invariably say, “Bro, can I ask you something that might be a bit personal?”

Sometimes during an intimate moment, a girlfriend will say, “Can I ask you something that might be a little weird?”

I know what question they are going to ask next. But I still cross my fingers and close my eyes in anticipation of being asked something truly weird.

Despite it being different people, different moods, and different amounts of clothing we are wearing, it is always the same question.

It is the question that I knew they were going to ask.

I show up 20 minutes late to a comedy show in Brooklyn.

It is a packed small venue, and the only open seat is in the very front row. I am reluctant to take that seat but the usher tells me that I am blocking everyone’s view. I have to walk across the stage to take that seat.

The comedian raises her hands in faux-annoyance as I walk in front of her, “Alright dude, what is this?”

The crowd laughs.

I mouth a “sorry!” to her and shrug my shoulders.

After a few minutes of jokes, she introduces her last bit, “You guys have been great. Now for my final joke, I will ask you your name, and make fun of it.”

Fuck.

I know she will pick me. I try to look at the row behind me in an effort to nudge her to pick someone else.

She is looking directly at me. I don’t look at her to avoid eye contact.

“You, who walked in late,” she points at me and walks over. “What’s your name?”

She holds the mic in front of me.

I can feel the eyes of the crowd glaring at me in anticipation, waiting for me to say my name.

I don’t want to tell her that my name is Osama. Maybe I should tell her my name is Sam, or Sammy, or even Two-Two.

I wonder if my friends, who are sitting a row behind me, are cringing as they see this happen.

“Osama,” I reply into the mic.

There is a pause.

I look at the stand-up comedian who is still holding the mic in front of me. She is staring at me, unsure what to say.

“Okay,” she says as she moves away from me.

The crowd remains silent.

I have a wry smile on my face. I feel embarrassed for putting her in this situation. I feel embarrassed for making my friends sitting behind me witness this awkward scene.

“And what’s your name?” she asks a guy sitting a few spots from me.

“Ben,” he replies.

“Where did you get that sweater from,” she asks him, before adding with an emphasis, “BEN?”

The crowd laughs.

I am relieved that it is over. I feel like everyone in the audience is still looking at me.

Despite his best efforts, the Author’s name began to slide down off the top of the book’s cover where it had been printed. The Author’s self-confidence had died long ago, but his name was determined to hang on to the spot where it belonged with all its might.

(“The Name,” by Osama Alomar, from The Teeth of the Comb and Other Stories)

I get a notification from Facebook.

A friend has re-shared his status from May 2011, with me tagged in it, as a memory.

Why would you re-share something so fucking old, I think to myself as I open my Facebook app, dreading to see what I was tagged in seven years ago.

“A good day for all the Osamas in the world except one” — Osama

I remember cracking this joke.

So many people asked me how I felt about the news that day that I remember feeling like I needed to draft and issue an official statement.

This is the joke that I remember telling the most often. There were probably a few others that I don’t remember anymore.

I didn’t anticipate anyone putting up what I said as their Facebook status. I think to myself now that my friend must have found what I said incredibly insightful.

I am tired. I have been working late at our office in Chelsea. I contemplate whether to take the L train back to Brooklyn or take an Uber. Fuck it, I’ll Uber.

My Uber driver, Ali, is four minutes away.

I wonder if I can expense this Uber ride because I was working late.

When I enter the car, I tell the driver, “Osama,” to confirm I am getting in the right Uber.

“Yes, salaam brother,” replies Ali.

“Salaam,” I reply curtly. Ali seems like an Uber driver who likes to talk. I am in zero mood for a conversation after a long day at work.

“Going to Brooklyn?” he asks.

“Ya.”

“You have a beautiful name, friend,” Ali comments. “Where are you from?”

Fuck. This is the last conversation I want to have right now.

“Pakistan,” I say.

“Can I ask you a question Osama?” Asks Ali.

The way he emphasizes my name, I know where this is going. I already know what the question will be.

I let out a sigh as I settle back into my seat and tell myself that I should have just taken the L.

I reply with a brief mmhmm.

“Do you want to listen to Drake or Atif Aslam?” asks Ali.

* * *

Editor’s note: Instead of a story fee, Longreads is making a donation to the South Asian American Digital Archive, per the author’s request.

Osama Shehzad is a writer from Karachi living in New York City.

* * *

Editor: Ben Huberman

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tweefunk · 7 years

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Top 11 Records of 2016

Yeah, top 11. Fite me irl bruh.

I have opinions. Validate me.

* = “I wrote about this before, go scroll down and read what I wrote before you lazy sod.”

11. NOFX-First Ditch Effort (Skate-Punk/Rock) Recorded while Fat Mike was still using drugs, NOFX’s most serious effort to date tackles his impending visit to rehab, and public embrace of cross-dressing. It’s good to see the perpetually juvenile outfit take on adulthood and more introspective topics while simultaneously pushing themselves as composers.

While no one was expecting NOFX to write the next Pet Sounds, they secure their legacy by refusing to burp out the same old shit 30 years into their career. They also temper what could be maudlin or self-righteous with just the perfect dose of their screwball humor.

Unfortunately, they cross the line into the ham-fisted on the overwrought, hyper-apocalyptic and preachy album-closer “Generation Z,” which features an extended slam-poetry/spoken word outro that doesn’t scan as being all that far removed from Jonathan Larson’s brilliant piss-take of the genre in Rent. Sadly, NOFX is definitely not joking here.

10. Bayside-Vacancy (Pop-punk/Emo/Alternative)* A mall-punk tour de force. Anthony Raneri channels his inner broadway star to craft not just Bayside’s best-ever record, but one of the few worthwhile records from Warped alumni in the last few years.

9. American Football-LP2 (Emo/Post-rock/Experimental)

If the only conception you’ve ever had of emo is the swoopy-haired fad of the Hot Topic years, this the perfect record to change that perception.

After a nearly 20-year hiatus AF is back with a much more focused sound. Unlike their debut which was plagued by endless instrumental sections that diluted the song’s impact, LP2 devotes its energy to fairly conventional song structures that are boosted by layers of intricate guitar interplay.

Their debut, while influential, has been massively overrated due to their sudden disappearance and the legion of copycat artists that took their Television-on-downers guitar stylings and crafted an Emo Revival in the first part of the decade.

It’s rare that a reunion album delivers on its promise, but this is a rare exception. Definitely the prettiest record of the year.

8. Car Seat Headrest-Teens of Denial (Indie/Alternative/Rock)

Nauseatingly self-aware, clever-clever, ironic bullshit for hipster millennials who’ve never heard of my fact checking cuz. Dude probably laughs at his own jokes on the regs.

It’s also jaw-droppingly self-assured in scope and vision, not just for an indie garage-rock album, but any post-Radiohead album. Will Toledo is on some next-level shit here and he’s just getting warmed up.

The most powerful moments shine through when Toledo takes on collegiate know-it-all hippies on “Destroyed by Hippie Powers” and his own existential dread and immaturity on “The Ballad of Costa Concordia.” Another great, and all too honest, pop-hook delves into the unfortunate precautions necessary to deal with your idiot friends on “(Joe Gets Kicked out of School for Using) Drugs With Friends (But Says This Isn’t a Problem).” Spoiler: It’s Drugs.

Unfortunately, these moments of clarity are many times obscured by unnecessarily drawn-out arrangements, intentional vocal obfuscation (mumble-core anyone?), and single songs that jam two or three complete and disparate compositional ideas together rather than separating them into their own tracks.

7. Deerhoof-The Magic (Experimental/Noise/Punk)*

The first track is called “The Devil and his Anarchic Surrealistic Retinue.” That’s all I really need to tell you.

Take drugs, drink coffee, crank volume, party.

6. Joyce Manor-Cody (Emo/Alternative/Pop-punk)

On their list of the most disappointing things of 2016, Pitchfork accused Joyce Manor of sounding like Everclear on this album. I have no idea where that came from as the only similarity between the two acts are a preponderance for power chords and introspective lyrics, hardly unique characteristics in rock music.

However, Cody succeeds because it never tries to force its listener to feel anything. There’s an incredible sense of sadness and longing in this album, but it feels like someone sitting in their living room telling you stories about their life, and having all the disparate pieces fall into place.

The record gets its underdog charm from the simple but tight instrumentation. This sounds like something your friends in High School could have made, but with that extra bit of oomph that lets you know they’re going places.

I wish I had a record like this when I was 16.

5. Touche Amoré-Stage Four (Melodic Hardcore/Emo/Post-Punk)*

If you don’t cry, you: a.) Aren’t a human being, or b.) Have never lost anything or anyone close to you, so check your privilege.

4. A Tribe Called Quest-We Got it From Here...Thank You 4 Your Service (Hip-Hop/Jazz Rap)

On their first record in nearly 20 years, ATCQ give a master class in how to envelop modern sounds without devolving into tone-deaf pandering. Thus, their vintage brand of East-Coast Boom-Bap still sounds fresh, and the modern flourishes sound like an organic evolution.

For the most part, the record strikes a perfect balance between political state-of-the-nation tracks and homages to recently deceased member Phife Dawg. ATCQ make excellent use of guest artists to fill in the gaps and provide one of the most satisfyingly traditional rap records in recent memory. The only mis-step comes with the overly maudlin and un-subtle Phife Dawg tribute “The Donald.”

3. Chance The Rapper-Coloring Book (Hip-Hop/Rap/Pop)

If Kendrick Lamar’s 2015 opus To Pimp a Butterfly was the dark, tortured soul of the continuing struggle for racial equality in America, then Coloring Book is the movement’s pep talk.

Even on the somber moments of reflection, Chance never descends into pessimism. Furthermore, the party jams and love songs never feel contrived or overly sentimental. They feel like an urgent escape from a malicious world where the very act of daring to love yourself, warts and all, is a radical act.

The album also places itself in TPAB’s lineage by basing its composition heavily on gospel music, at times just outright dropping worship songs into the proceedings and littering the lyrics with religious imagery.

During many of the songs, there are ongoing backup vocals that almost play like crowd noise, giving the feeling that Chance is really just taking technicolored parade of joy through a wasteland of despair. Hell, “No Problem” almost feels like an unintentional homage to that scene in Ferris Beuller’s Day Off where he hijacks a float and leads all of Chicago in a sing-along. You just can't stop fucking smiling.

This is isn’t just a guy singing and rapping at you, he’s inviting you on a journey with him where salvation might not be dogmatic faith, but the ability to accept the blessing of life in whatever form it takes.

2. Kanye West-The Life of Pablo

If Blonde is the sound of a self-assured genius tinkering until he has the perfect, cohesive message, then TLOP is the sound of an equally talented genius slowly going insane.

Far and away his best production work, Yeezy seems content with ceding a significant amount of the spotlight to others--this conceit was explored further in his set design for the Saint Pablo tour where he usually performed in silhouette and primarily lit the audience--and this results in a slightly more disjointed product than he likely intended. Despite that, he conjures gorgeous soundscapes out of perfectly curated samples and creates an album that would be compelling even as a beat CD. Sadly, as thrilling as the backdrops are, his rapping doesn’t quite reach its potential here

Especially after his hospitalization, Yeezy seems to be in the same place he was in before dropping 2010′s masterpiece My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy. With the tide of public opinion against him, Kanye digs deep and tries to create something so brilliant that no one can doubt him.

in doing so, knowingly or not, Kanye creates one of the most honest assessments of toxic masculinity since the Violent Femmes’ debut. Not once does he attempt to sugarcoat his narcissistic behavior. In a way he’s almost a tragic figure.

It’s an eternal quest for redemption that Will Toledo (even though I backhand-complimented his band back there) explains a lot better than me. IDK.

1. Frank Ocean-Blonde (Alt-R&B/Pop/Hip-Hop)*

Art.

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