winning more awards


BTS Full Interview: Dance Lesson, Impersonations, Billboard Music Awards Win & More!


BTS Full Interview: Dance Lesson, Impersonations, Billboard Music Awards Win & More!

Jennie says she killed Michael because she didn’t want to bring the love triangle back. Basically saying if Jane had gained feelings for Rafael again while with Michael she would have seemed fickle. People think this means she would have gone back to Rafael either way, but Jennie also said at the end of S2 Jane made a choice and that choice stood for something. She wanted her to stick to it which is why she married Michael.

How can you now act like that marriage didn’t mean anything? If Jafael was always the plan Jane and Michael should have never gotten married. What the fuck was the point of ALL of S2. You marrying them just to kill him off and go back to Jafael is stupid. You could have literally killed Michael at anytime before they got back together, but you chose to show them as soulmates and now are trying to spin it like Jane and Rafael were always meant to be…


Battle of the Twin Demons (Twin Devils Moshirechik & Kotanechik's Extermination)
Okami Ost, Rei Kondo
Battle of the Twin Demons (Twin Devils Moshirechik & Kotanechik's Extermination)

“Yes. I speak of the twin demons, Lechku and Nechku. They had been imprisoned at the twin summits of Ezofuji. But they suddenly broke free one day and began their deadly assault upon the land of Kamui.”

I find it incredibly sad how some fans can get so greedy with awards to the point where they'd want to take away an award from a group who has worked so hard to get their first daesang 😧
Oscar Party Lulls Phil To Sleep & Makes Dan Shout | Phan Tweet Dabble

Summary: Having an Oscar Party with friends was tradition for Dan and Phil. Phil would fall asleep, which Dan would tease him about, and Dan would get so invested in the outcome and potentially need Phil to calm him down.

Word count: 1k

Genre: Domestic fluff

Warnings: Like one “swear” word

Read more from the collection of tweet-based Phan dabbles here

Based on the following two tweets:

Also available on AO3

27th of February 2017

Oscars night with friends both managed to be predictable and utterly outrageous.

Keep reading

Ghost - Final Part - Jungkook angst

Originally posted by jjks

This is it, lovelies! I’m so sad to end this, I kinda really loved Jungkook’s character in this series ): Either way, here you go, and I’m sorry for everything <3

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Final Part


It had been several months since you woke up, and Jungkook found that these months were possibly the best in his life. BTS were only gaining more and more popularity, winning countless awards teenage-Jungkook would have salivated over the mere sight of. The bonds between all the members were stronger than ever, and Jungkook’s friendship with you was only flourishing.

Since he had spent such a long time without you, he wasn’t going to waste any other time he could spend with you. He was not going to take you for granted anymore, and he’d be damned if he let anything get in the way of you two.

A loud burst of laughter woke Jungkook up, uncomfortably early on a Wednesday morning. His eyes peeled apart and he lolled his head over to one side to see Namjoon’s bed vacated; it was generally unusual for the leader to be up before Jungkook, so Jungkook wasted no time before clambering out of bed and pulling on whatever T-shirt he could find that didn’t stink of sweat. Unsure of whether or not the T-shirt even belonged to him, Jungkook padded out of the bedroom-

Only to be met with a spray of water to the face.

Coughing and spluttering, Jungkook wiped his eyes quickly and blinked around to see you, Hoseok and even Yoongi hunched over, cackling at the maknae’s befuddled expression. Jungkook couldn’t even move, too overwhelmed with shock from the sight of the two elder hyungs condoning your childish behaviour, and his jaw could have dislocated from the rest of his skull at the sight of the water gun held loosely in Yoongi’s hand.

He wasn’t able to gather his thoughts before he received another blast of water, courtesy of your water gun that was held in your dominant hand, and you burst into laughter again, turning and sprinting away down the hall from Jungkook’s grabby hands.

“Y/N!” he exclaimed, half in annoyance and half in amusement at the volume of the borderline ugly laughter you were releasing. Hoseok was hot on your heels, the two of you thundering down the hall and out the front door that Jungkook saw was already propped open with one of the dining chairs. Cocking his head, Jungkook wasn’t far behind the two of you, aiming to disarm you of your plastic weapon and exact his revenge on you.

Yoongi wasn’t long behind Jungkook, and the youngests confusion only heightened as all four of your ran out into the lobby of the building and out the front door. You yelled, screaming at the temperature of the water that hit your back as Hoseok shot at you, and your legs sped up as you sprinted down the four steps, turning the corner and aiming down the street.

Jungkook was reluctant to follow, concerned with anybody seeing, but Hoseok and Yoongi were uncaring and merely followed you, shooting at each other. Jungkook shrugged and sprinted after the three of you, following the sounds of your laughter and screams. Eventually, you all rounded the corner and Jungkook could have dropped dead at the sight of Namjoon pinning Jimin down to the floor whilst Jin sprayed a never ending flow of water into his face.

Tae was gigging at the trio, half-heartedly trying to rescue his best friend from his hyungs grip.

“Hyung!” his voice was high pitched and whiny, and he yelled in fright when you launched yourself at his back, causing him to lose his balance and sent the two of you sailing to the ground. Tae received a face full of water from your gun and he spluttered before bringing up his own and shooting your straight into your open mouth as you peeled your lips apart to yell a war cry.

As you coughed the water back up, Jimin was able to free himself from his hostage situation and scampered over to Jungkook’s side, hiding himself behind Jungkook and using the younger as a human shield. Immediately, Jungkook was drenched in the water from three different water guns and he froze as the cool temperature soaked through his clothes and settled into his bones.

Without missing a beat, he yanked the gun from Jimin’s hands and aimed it at Namjoon and Jin who were close enough together that he was able to shoot them both at the same time. They yelled, and Jungkook switched his target to Yoongi who was trying his best to remain inconspicuous towards the back of the car park. Enraged at his sudden wet-cat state, Yoongi released a cry and started sprinting towards Jungkook, who yelled in return and took off in the other direction. Hoseok sprinted after you, and Seokjin and Namjoon were both trying to hold off Taehyung and Jimin.

The entire car park, despite it being a relatively frigid day in the middle of October, was drenched in water and filled with the childish screams of the adults who were scarcely dressed and running around after each other.

Even though it was a rather disruptive way to start the day, Jungkook couldn’t help but feel a warmth settle into his heart as they all traipsed back into the dorm, shivering and moving quickly to find dry clothes and defrost their chilly toes. Your hand was wrapped firmly in his, and he had a huge goofy grin on his face.

His stress levels were alleviated, and he knew that his hyungs stress was pushed back down too.

“Was this your idea?” he murmured to you, chucking one of his clean T-shirts at your face and a pair of shorts.

“Might have been. What of it?”

Jungkook merely hummed in response, not sure how he should word his gratitude. It was clear that all of them needed some time to relax and act like children, to put a break in their working, and he knew that you knew that. His heart was swelling in further adoration for you and all you did for their happiness.

You were too good for him.


It was later that evening and all members including you, were gathered in the living room around the TV, bickering about what film to watch.

Jungkook watched as Hoseok and Jimin were squatted on the floor, shoving each other playfully as they called for a vote on what film they should watch, having narrowed it down to their two options. Hoseok crowed in victory as his film was selected and he childishly stuck his tongue out at Jimin who was pouting on the floor.

Namjoon chuckled, ruffling Jimin’s hair as he moved past him, placing the huge bowl of popcorn on the table in the centre of the room.

“Oh God, not this one again.” you moaned, flopping backwards onto Yoongi’s shoulder dramatically.

“No complaining, majority rules!” Hobi yelled, leaping and cramming himself on the sofa between you and Jungkook. He wiggled in further to make himself comfortable and whilst Jungkook laughed at the elders excitement, he couldn’t help but acknowledge the twinge of annoyance in his chest.

He was quick to quash it down, however, at the sound of your laughter as you watched Jimin shove Jin, who was crouched down to place the DVD in the DVD player. The younger was quick to scuttle away as Jin was sprawled on the floor in a heap, placing his butt on the floor at Yoongi’s feet so he could lean against the elders legs. Jin could only mutter incomprehensible gibberish in anger, before he laughed at the innocent look on Jimin’s face and shook his head, rubbing a hand down his face in exasperation.

Namjoon laughed, coming to cram himself on the sofa too, on the other side of Jungkook. It was a tight fit, almost uncomfortably so, and Jungkook couldn’t help but stick his tongue inside his cheek and bite his lip lightly as he watched Yoongi reach up to tuck some of your hair behind your ear.

Almost immediately, you pulled the hair back into your face and laughed at the pouty expression on Yoongi’s face, but Jungkook felt both pleased and concerned. He knew that the scar that stretched part-way down your forehead was still a source of self consciousness, but he loved it. He loved that it told a story of how much both you and he had been through. It was something special to him, even with the sadness and grief that was behind it.

“Hurry up, hyung!” Taehyung moaned, head lolling backwards as Jin took his sweet time to start the film. The elder straightened out and turned to see no seats available, cursing loudly again as he was resigned to sit on the floor.

“You kids are going to be the death of me!”

“Good-” Yoongi started to joke before he was cut off by you.

“You know we love you, Seokjin! Do you want to sit in my seat?”

Immediately, Jin protested but he ultimately lost when you stood up and shoved him down into your previously owned seat. Jungkook watched your form snake down to the floor and curl up slightly, and his heart swelled at the sight of your endless kindness.

He didn’t even have to think about it before he too slid off the sofa and onto the floor next to you, and he couldn’t bare to think about it as you smiled widely at him, tugging his arm so it was wrapped over your shoulders and you were cuddled into his side.

He could barely breathe through the beginning of the film in the fear of disrupting your enraptured state, but eventually his muscles relaxed and he even pulled you further into him. You snuggled your face into his chest slightly, resting your arm across his stomach, and Jungkook swore that his heart exploded, shattered, ruptured all at once.

Perhaps his infatuation with your was beginning to become unhealthy. Maybe he had a heart condition? That would be the only logical explanation as to why he felt like he was about to die.

You stayed right there, glued to his side, for the entirety of the rest of the film, even all the way past when your legs went numb from the hard floor. You didn’t really feel like moving, enjoying the warmth that he gave out. You weren’t entirely hating the way that his heartbeat would thrum erratically whenever you shifted even a few centimetres.

Yet another month passed in a similar fashion. Often, you would spring random surprises on all of the boys which would force them to let loose and relax slightly. He admired it, really, the way you exploited their competitive nature in order to have fun, but it wasn’t fun for him when he lost and had to do the dishes every day for the next week. Nevertheless, he couldn’t stay mad at you for long when you insisted on helping him do the dishes, and apologised in the form of lamb skewers and as many spicy noodles as your arms could carry to the dorm every single time.

Or he was in love with you and couldn’t stay angry because he found you utterly precious. It’s all relative.

However, Jungkook’s bliss was frustratingly short-lived, again. It was a Thursday evening and you came bounding into the dorm, eyes bright and hair wild around your face. Your cheeks were flushed from the warmth outside, showing that you had been running to the dorm, and Jungkook could have sang in joy at the sight of you.

He was quick to sober up at the news that poured from your lips.

“I have a date tonight!”

He couldn’t believe it. Well, he could - you were absolutely flawless in his eyes - but there was a small, selfish part of him that was hoping you would wait for him. There was an even bigger part of him that wanted you to return his feelings, and confess to him first because he sure as hell did not have to balls to confess to you.

“I met him at work, and he’s so nice, really, he is! He made dinner reservations at eight and I have no idea what to wear, oh my God-”

Jungkook wanted you to stop talking. He wanted to shut you up somehow, preferably with his mouth, but he didn’t want to hear you gush about a guy that wasn’t him anymore. He wanted to turn his ears off completely, he wanted to be temporarily deaf, he wanted to kiss you, he wanted-

“That sounds great, Y/N, it really does,” Yoongi said, a mysterious tilt in his voice that Jungkook couldn’t even identify.. “And I don’t wanna ruin your moment, but I have to call Jungkook into the studio now and we’re gonna be a while, so…”

The request for you to leave was so subtle that there was no way you could have been able to tell that it was slightly acidic, slightly malicious. Thus, you left the dorms in the excited whirlwind of energy that you were when you had bounded through the door.

Jungkook was already drained of all the energy he may have had, and he turned in the direction of his room to sleep the rest of the day away, completely forgetting what Yoongi had said about the studio.

“Kid,” Yoongi called, and Jungkook froze where he was, expecting a scolding. “Are you okay?”

Jungkook shrugged, not trusting his voice at that moment.

“It’s okay if you’re not.”

It was those words that sent tears cascading down Jungkook’s face, shoulders already trembling. A hand lay on his back, and Jungkook was brought into a hug so firm and warm that his sobs erupted from his mouth before he could even try to quash them down.

Sometimes, being an idol sucked.


Exactly four days later, at around midday, Jungkook was headed down to his favourite café to pick up orders for himself, Namjoon and Yoongi. The three of them had spent hours in the studio, not necessarily working but being together. Of course lyrics had been scribbled down and Yoongi had even had to rush to draw some notes that he thought would make a nice melody when pulled together, the job of an idol never really stopping, but it was nice and relaxing.

Now, Jungkook was on his way to the café a little further away from the BigHit building than others he could have gone to, but this other café was one he had been visiting with you for as long as the two of you had been living in Seoul. It was lovely and cosy, and the mismatched mugs really added a lot of character to the place.

He pushed the door open, heart warming already at the familiar tinkling noise of the old fashioned bell and the smell of coffee beans that hit his nose. The café itself never seemed to have a busy patronage, and even whilst he deemed the place worthy of more success than the Starbucks chain, the very quiet chatting only interrupted by the coffee machine soothed his heart and his soul. He made his way over to the counter in an unhurried fashion, wanting to prolong his time there. Even if he wasn’t with you in your special café, he still enjoyed himself.

Until, of course, he saw you. He saw you sitting there, cosied up with that fucking coworker. He saw you in the café that he thought was special to the two of you, and you had brought him there. He saw you sitting in the chairs that you and Jungkook shared for years, dubbing it ‘Our Table.’ He saw you there, and the very sight of you was enough for Jungkook’s heart to break all over again.

Of course this happened. How natural. As if the hands of Fate herself had twisted his reality into her playtime, to do with him whatever She wanted. Jungkook gritted his teeth and almost couldn’t choke out the three orders to the patiently waiting barista, and his fingers shook as he handed over his card. Even though he knew you hadn’t noticed his presence, the back of his neck burnt as if you were staring at him.

He was itching to turn, desperate for you to make eye contact with him so you could see how bothered he was. How betrayed he felt. He didn’t though, and he collected his coffees swiftly, turning and beginning to make his way to the exit.

He couldn’t, of course. Fate tugged at another of his puppet strings and ensured his day was even worse.

“Jungkook!” you called out to him from across the room, and his hackles raised slightly at the increased risk of being recognised out in the open. His head snapped to yours, a fire burning in his eyes at the compilation of anger, betrayal and fear, and he glared at you so fiercely from where he was that he was even angrier at himself for making you shrink back, dropping your hand from where you had raised it to wave at him. He didn’t hang around to chat, turning away and leaving behind only his coat tails, whipped behind the shutting door.

The frigid Seoul air was a little colder on his walk home.


Jungkook was exhausted. He couldn’t stop thinking about the way you had smiled at the man that wasn’t him, laughing at something that Jungkook hadn’t said. His hands were gripping his pen far too tightly, but he didn’t loosen his grip at the way that you had even looked like you were wearing more makeup and that certainly wasn’t a dress he had ever seen.

Did you think you had to put more effort in for him? Did he not accept you for the perfect way you already were? Why did you feel the need to change?

Jungkook’s head was swimming with questions that he would never get the answer to, and eventually Seokjin had to pry the pen out of the sleeping boy’s hand and slide a pillow under his head.

Sighing from his position on the sofa, Yoongi wondered what the kid could have possibly done in a past life to deserve this emotional turmoil.

The next morning, Jungkook awoke with a stiff neck, no texts or calls from you, but with a fresh sense of objective; he would force himself to get over you, no matter how he did it, and that involved distancing himself.

You’d be fine with it, you had your new beau to keep you occupied in his absence (Jungkook wanted to choke at the thought.)

He changed your contact name to simply ‘Y/N’ and he deleted the messages from the previous day. He changed his lock screen from a picture of the two of you on one of your many fake Valentine’s Day dates to a particularly unflattering shot of Jimin, and he even clomped around his room, picking up any of the crap you had left there and putting it away.

He was serious about his new mission, and whilst he knew that it would take time and a lot of hurt, it was probably for the best. For the both of you.

For both of your benefits, he would become a ghost in your life just like you had in his.

It was on the fifth day that Jimin asked when you were coming round again, and the sixth day was when you called him for the first time. He didn’t answer, fearing that hearing your voice would make him long to see you even more, but you were relentless and called another few times after that. The sixteenth and seventeenth days were defined, just like all of the days before, by your endless amount of phone calls and pleading texts, voicemails that he never opened and promptly deleted.

Was he being too harsh…?

He shrugged, turning over in his bed to turn his phone off and place it back on his bedside table.

You would get the message, despite whether or not he sent you one.


Tears were streaming down your face and your knees were tucked up tightly to your chin. You could barely read the words on your phone screen, the pain in your chest almost becoming too much to bear with.

Not only had you just broken up with your colleague, but the other half of your soul wasn’t reaching out to help you.

Crying out again, you threw your phone onto your bed and screamed into your knees. Why was Jungkook being so stubborn?! What had you even done wrong? Why did you miss him like you’d miss oxygen after not breathing for three minutes? Why did everything feel so… Shit?

You sighed, hiccuping slightly, and pushed your hair out of your slightly sweaty face. The stupid boy; how were you supposed to tell him how you felt if he was ignoring you so absolutely?

Even the rest of Bangtan had opted to ignore your calls and texts, and you had never felt so isolated from your best friends. Had Jungkook told them to ignore you, to cut you out of their lives, or had they done this of their own volition?

Either way, you desperately needed to see your best friend, the man you finally realised you were so deep in love with that you felt like you were drowning. You needed to see him.

You had to see him.

Scrambling up, you grabbed your phone and house keys, forcing your feet into some shoes that you hadn’t bothered to undo the laces of earlier, and sprinted out of the door into the night like your very life depended on it. Perhaps it did.

One foot in front of the other. Left, right, left, right… The sound of shoes slapping against the concrete of the pavement echoed around you and you were almost winded, still sprinting as fast as you could towards the BigHit building. It felt like deja vu, but this time the need was tinted with more of a desperate longing.

Hurtling through reception, you barely registered the sight of the bleary eyed receptionist on a late shift, slamming your thumb onto the button to call an elevator. Tapping your foot impatiently, running from elevator shaft to elevator shaft to check which one was getting to you the fastest, your eyes strayed to the nearby door that led to the stairs. Goosebumps erupted across your flesh and you decided that waiting for the elevator would be the best option. You didn’t want to revisit that stairwell any time soon.

Finally, after what felt like centuries, the elevator dinged and the doors slid open. All but leaping inside, you slammed your thumb yet again against the correct floor button, hopping around like a madman, adrenaline surging through you.

This whole plan could go one of two ways, and you prayed to every single deity that smiled upon you to let it go right.  

You threw yourself down the hallway, nearly punching through the door in your eagerness to knock on it as loudly as you could. You hollered his name at the top of your lungs, trying your best to convey the urgency of the matter and begging him to come out. Aware that you were creating an incredible fuss, (having only a matter of time before an angry burly staff member physically removed you from the building) you could have cried in relief at the sight of your favourite boy, dressed in his usual crinkled pajama top and sweatpants, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and hair half standing vertical.

Jungkook’s eyes widened in shock at the sight of you, tears streaming down your face and bringing your makeup with it. Your eyes were red and puffy, showing that you had been crying for some time, and Jungkook immediately ignored his promise to get over you and brought you into his arms and pressed your head into his chest, moving backwards into the dorm and gently shutting the door with his foot.

“What’s wrong?” he asked softly, kissing the top of your head and stroking your hair. Your sobs quietened slightly at his soothing actions, and tears fell silently down your cheeks, absorbed promptly by Jungkook’s shirt.

How could you have been so blind? Jungkook had been the only person by your side for years, all this time, even when you were in a coma. Why did it take you this long to realise that he was the only one you’d ever want by your side for the rest of your life? Why did it have to take a love confession from another and breaking their heart to realise that? Was this the kind of person you were?

“Jungkook,” you muttered, bringing your face away from his shirt and looking up at him. He smoothed your hair down, brushing some from your face, and smiled gently.


“Is it okay if I say something absolutely ridiculous?”

“You never asked permission to say something ridiculous before,” he mused. “How absurd are we talking?”

“Completely. Utterly.”

“Oh,” he blinked gently, then nodded, eyes softening as he stared at the way that your tears clung to each of your eyelashes. “Go ahead.”

“I think I’m in love with you.”

The effect was instantaneous.

Jungkook wasn’t that smart. He wasn’t clever in the way that some of his hyungs were, and he could own up to that. He was, for lack of a better word, shit at science in school and if he ever paid attention he’d be baffled the entire time. However, he knew what a supernova was. He was well rehearsed in what it was like to explode in a sudden mass of light and energy, but he did not, for one millisecond, think that his insides would explode much like one. Pure energy and light was radiating out of him, a smile lighting up his face like never before.

He didn’t think he could ever be as happy as he was the day you woke up, but not only had you proved him wrong, you had triumphed any kind of emotion that anybody in the world had ever experienced.

He was still staring straight into your eyes as this internal explosion was happening, but Jungkook didn’t care how weird that might be.

Did he even have a heart anymore? Had it fallen out of his ass or was it beating too fast to feel it properly?

“Jungkook?” you prodded, nudging him slightly. You were beginning to get concerned with the dazed look on his face and the twinkle in his eyes, a wide grin stretched across his face. It had been several minutes and he had yet to say a word in response to your impromptu confession. As embarrassed as you were at the lack of any reply, you were beginning to feel worried. “Are you… In there?”

“Hm?” He hummed, his eyes still completely glassy. “Did you say something?”

“I told you I’m in love with you and you said nothing.” A blush was creeping up the side of your face now, and his eyes cleared slightly as he continued to stare down at you, the grin still stretched across his face.

“You said that, yes,” he said, voice a little breathless.

“Okay so… What do you think?”

He didn’t reply again and you were growing restless. He was usually so talkative, what was wrong with him today? Had he hit his head or something?

Wincing slightly at the expression, you hit him gently on the shoulder.

“Excuse me, I asked you a ques-”

His head ducked down and he planted his lips so firmly onto yours that there was no way you were dreaming.

Immediately he pressed you against the front door, one hand bracing against the door by the side of your head and the other resting on the back of your neck, holding your head next to his. His lips were moving so gently against yours, coaxing your own into moving with his and eventually the two of you fell into a rhythm that made your heart beat twice as fast as usual. All you could feel was him, him, him, and it felt so right that your eyes filled with tears again. It felt like nothing you could even describe, all of your emotions hitting you at once.

All of the late night phone calls whilst he was on tour, all of the sleepovers, all of the fake dates on Valentine’s Day just so the two of you weren’t alone on the most romantic day of the year. All of the times he had called you in tears because things weren’t going right, all of the times he had comforted you when you had a bad day. All of the times you ditched everything and ran to him. All of the times he had cried for you when you couldn’t be there with him physically. All of the times that he had begged, prayed, called out for you to wake up. All of the happy moments, all of the sad moments, all of the tender moments; wrapped up into one kiss that neither of you ever wanted to end.

He pulled away, resting his forehead against yours and letting your heavy breathing intermingle.

“Good,” he whispered. “Because I think I’m in love with you too.”


The end. Thank you.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Final Part


“Whatever may happen in the future, we’ll protect y o u and you’ll protect u s.” -Kim Namjoon

Bangtan will always fight for our right to live and love as we wish, just as we will always fight for Bangtan’s right to live and love in the industry that they are thriving in.

Congratulations on your first daesang, boys.

You’ve made it.


BTS Full Interview: Dance Lesson, Impersonations, Billboard Music Awards Win & More!

Grammy || Jack Maynard

Originally posted by m00nchilled

Requests are currently [ CLOSED ]

Masterlist can be found [ HERE ]

Word Count: 1.8k+

Summary: You’ve been friends with Jack since you were kids, and he’s always supported every single one of your dreams. When you win a Grammy, he makes the night even more memorable when he proposes to you at the afterparty. 

Dedicated too: The anon who requested this; I apologise about getting a little too caught up in writing this but I honestly loved the concept and included Conor quite alot (it felt appropriate)xo

When you were six, you entered a dance competition at your school and came last. When you were nine, you ran a half marathon and dropped out mid-way through. When you were twelve, you took part in a drawing competition, and came fourth.

By that point, you were so done with competing in subjects in which you had absolutely no talent. If it wasn’t for your bestfriend, Jack Maynard, and his older brother Conor, you would’ve given up and never entered another contest again. But when you were sixteen, and your school was holding yet another talent show, they encouraged you to enter; and were adamant that you did the one thing they knew you excelled at. They wanted you to sing.

That night was the first night you ever sang infront of anyone but your family and the Maynards’, and it was exhilarating. Your stage presence was electrifying and the feeling that ran through your blood made you feel something you’d never felt before.

That was when you knew what you were destined to do. You entered tons of competitions and just two years later you were picked out by a management team and offered a once in a life time record deal. At first you’d hesitated; it was a huge deal and wasn’t a decision that a nineteen year old could make alone. And so you found comfort in the one person who’s opinion you truly valued with everything you had.

Yourself and Jack spent hours sat in the old treehouse, duvets thrown over you and fairy lights illuminating the space - the vibe simply too magical to recreate. You talked and talked for hours, about the pros and the cons and the changes that would come. By the end of the night, your decision had been made, and even Conor, who’d released his debut single a year earlier and peaked on the UK charts - was ecstatic when you told him.

It was then that you knew you’d made the right decision. You called up the number of the management company, and accepted their offer - and your life took off. Before you knew it you were in the studio, recording songs and releasing singles and albums and everything you’d ever dreamed of. You collaborated with Conor on a song which reached number one in the charts, you toured with Jack by your side, and he managed to vlog the entire thing.

Your best friends Youtube channel was taking off, he was making so many friends who were all apart of the same thing that he was, and you were so caught up in your responsibilities that you would’ve imagined that the two would’ve parted ways. But you never did. You stuck by his side through thick and thin, and he supported your every decision. He was still your bestfriend; but after spending so much time together and being mistaken as a couple in several magazines and news articles, the two of you began to consider that maybe, you were destined to become more than just that.

You fell in love under the sun, whilst taking a stroll across a beach in California with his oversized hoodie drowning your petite figure and your hand connected between you. You’d managed to not be noticed yet, all thanks to Jack, and that was the day you realised that you didn’t just want to be bestfriends anymore. And so you made a split second decision, and wrapped your arms around this neck - pulling him down and brushing your soft lips against his slightly chapped ones.

This year was the year of The Grammy’s. You’d been nominated for six awards and were so humbly grateful for that. You invited the whole buttercream squad, who thanked you over and over and promised to be on their best behaviour. You rolled your eyes, and hugged them all, which was almost a foreign feeling seeing as none of them were screaming or fingerling over you like the majority of your fans did. These guys were your friends, and they knew who you were beneath the fame and the music, and you’d always treasure that.

The guys all gathered in your hotel room after you’d argued your way out of having your own makeup artist and lady who dressed you. You didn’t need that, you were a human being who could dress herself; and you had Zoe, who always managed to create the most stunning makeup looks on you. You had all of the boys to help you get dressed and make sure you had no one strand of hair out of place, you had Josh, who was tall enough to make sure your cleavage didn’t look wonky in your dress.

They were everything you could’ve needed.

The whole three hours of prepping was spent laughing, and the nerves that’d been building in the pit of your stomach completely diminished. By the time you got the call that your car was ready downstairs, you were ready to leave and were simply waiting on the boys, who were performing last minute checks on their hair. You and Zoe were smirking to eachother as you heard them arguing over who got to use the mirror, but eventually they all started to emerge from the bathroom - each in a different style of suit which implemented them perfectly.

You immediately looked toward the Maynard brothers, who were staring at you with tears in their eyes. You frowned and pursed your lips, pushing back the tears as you pulled them both into a group hug, whispering ‘thank you’ over and over again. Every single one of your friends meant the world to you, but the brothers had been there for you since the very beginning - and they were the reason that you were where you were.

That evening, your whole group broke every rule in the book and walked the red carpet as a group, your hand tightly in Jack’s as she smile at all of the cameras and do silly poses together. You made sure your whole group got atleast twenty photographs together before leading them off of the carpet and into the venue. Your eyes were wide in awe and the chandeliers simply took your breath away.

You were seated with all of your friends, Jack and Conor on both of your sides with their hands entwined with yours. You spent the evening cheering for your fellow friends in the industry and screaming in excitement whenever one of your favourite artists won an award. When it finally came to the categories that you’d been nominated for, you stopped breathing for a moment, and almost fainted when you heard your name being shouted through the microphone in excitement.

Your eyes widen and your heart speeds up, but after a few seconds everyone stood up and began to cheer for you, and offered you the confidence you needed to stand up and pick up your dress; beginning the walk toward the stage. A few tears of emotion were running down your cheeks by the time you took the trophy from the presenter and hugged him tightly. You approached the podium, and smiled at the extremely large crowd of hugely powerful artists, such as Beyonce and Taylor Swift.

You smile and wipe your tears, laughing a little into the mic when people begin to sit down and hush, patiently awaiting your speech. “I- I honestly wasn’t prepared for this.” She takes a deep breath and composes herself silently. “I wrote a there page speech two days ago in the middle of the night because I couldn’t sleep. But, if I’m honest, I thanked way too many people who really didn’t alter my path into this industry.” A few people laugh, and she smiled and glances down at the award in her hands. “There are two boys who I wouldn’t be here today without. They stuck by me when I came last in every competition until they finally convinced me to sing. And I came first, and that started my journey.” She pulls her lips between her teeth and inhales softly. “This is for you. For Conor, who proved to be a better brother to me than my actual brother ever was. You encouraged me to follow my dream and together we made a beautiful child,” she winks playfully, obviously referring to their song. “And Jack, god, I don’t know where I’d be without you. I love you, with everything I have. Thank you, to you boys, and the rest of our little squad, and to my beautiful bestfriend, Zoe, who made sure I looked up to standard tonight. You guys are my whole word, and I love each and every one of you. Thank for you making all of this possible.” She takes a step back and lifts the award with a wide smile, closing her eyes and listening as everyone stands up and cheers for her; that familiar feeling running through her veins.

That night, after winning two more awards, one of which was for your song with Conor, you were all at the after party, high from the thrill and unable to stop smiling. You didn’t know how, but after two hours you’d managed to loose Jack. You tried to go and find him, but Zoe insisted that he’d only got to the loo and would be back in a while. And you believed her, until you heard him cough into the microphone on the stage and everyone fell silent. Your eyes widen and you stare at him in shock.

“First of all, I want to congratulate everyone who was nominated for an award tonight, and those who managed to win those awards. They’re so well deserved.” He raises his glass and everyone claps loudly, though you simply stared at your boyfriend, completely baffled. “But there’s one girl here tonight, who means everything to me. She is my bestfriend, my partner in crime, and my soulmate - but there’s one thing she isn’t yet.” He pauses and smiles at you through the crowd. “(Y/N), I love you. And I want you to be my wife.”

You gasp and bring your hand up to cover your mouth as everyone else screams in excitement and pull out their phones and cameras: that was when you understood why every single one of the boys had begun to vlog the moment he stepped onto the stage.

You begin to walk through the crowds of people until you were directly in-front of him and he knelt down on one knew, opening the red belted box and revealing the absolutely stunning ring to you. “Marry me?”

You nod, and a sob escapes from your lips as he slides the ring onto your finger, the whole party cheering and creaming and throwing confetti at you both as you throw yourself into his arms and hug him tightly, your heart beating in your chest faster than it ever had before.

This was where you needed to be, in the arms of your one true love. Awards and ceremonies didn’t matter in that moment, it was simply you and Jack, in love - and it was beautiful.

You know, if artists would put as much work and planning and dedication into every, and I mean EVERY, possible aspect of their career and craft as Taylor does - then maybe they would win more awards.
And before bitching about it, take into account how much energy and time she spends bonding with her fans, how prepared she goes into every studio session, how clever she is with how she handles her business, how many years she has spent building industry contacts and relationships and taking their opinions into account (what happened when Red didn’t win Grammy? She put her head down, listened to feedback and did better with next one), how creative she is with marketing aspects of her career and list goes on and on…
She has never done anything but support her peers and colleagues, and when she has a point to make - she does it gracefully and with a clear purpose in mind. Hopefully we will soon live in a time where more people follow her example. Is that too much to ask?

If anyone remembers this picture might know I spent a long 26 collective hours start to finish over the course of three weeks. Well, thank the luck of Apollo, I got an A on it.

And the student art show starts this coming week so last week I decided to submit this piece for kicks and giggles not expecting it to get it. Weelllll…it did.

So it’s going up and has a possibility to win an award (maybe more I don’t know) which can be quite a nice scholarship :)

So I will be praying to Apollo and Athena for luck and success. If anyone else would like to, I’d appreciate it. Otherwise the great comments I’ve gotten have been amazing :) more than I deserve