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deejadabbles · 3 years ago

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A Thousand Songs (Atem/Yami x Reader)

Chapter Five: Hello, My Old Heart

One /// Two /// Three /// Four /// Five /// (Six coming soon) ///

Summary: You knew that you and your band could make it big. Not only that, but stay together while doing it; the five of you were family, after all. The only problem was that despite all your musical talents...none of you were particularly good at lyrics. After years of struggling to put out your first full album, the solution finally made himself know in chance meeting on an empty stage.

Rock Band AU, Atem x Reader, gender neutral reader.

You could visibly see the poor young man swallowing hard as he settled in the seat across from you and the rest of your bandmates. Try as you might to make the setting casual (cushy chairs instead of a desk, offers of soda and chips, greeting him with an ‘what’s up, my dude?’, etc.) Atem still seemed rather nervous. Not that you blamed him, you distinctly remember Honda making a joke about “oh yeah, ask the dude to come to our secluded studio by himself to meet five strangers, that’s not creepy or anything” when Yugi told you guys how he had invited the man to meet with the rest of you.

“So, Yugi said that you write songs as a hobby?” Anzu began, giving him the warmest smile she could, an effort to ease Atem’s mood.

He nodded, then started unclasping the latch on his leather messenger bag, “That’s right, I’ll admit, I don’t have too many that are finished, but that’s mostly due to boredom and moving on to a new idea, not lack of inspiration.” He then pulled out some papers divided by paperclips. “Here are the songs I think best represent my usual work, the work that’s easiest for me to write as well as what I would prefer to put out there.”

Honda grabbed the small stack and passed out songs to each of you. A bit of an awkward silence fell as you all started reading the various lyrics, but not even that could tarnish how impressed you were with the ones you were reading. Poetic, but not too over the top or pretentious, nice. You glanced up at the others, nodding your head with an impressed smile before switching papers with Yugi to look over another example (you also didn’t miss the way Yugi beamed at you). Now this song struck you, after only reading the first verse you could already hear the beginnings of a beat and chords you could put with the lyrics.

“Yugi also said you have a killer voice,” you said, shifting your eyes from the page to peer up at him.

He gave a cute little cough, “Uh, yes, I suppose I’m not a bad singer.”

You had to actively keep your mind from gushing over how sweet he was. The dude looked like a typical adonis hottie, but his shy outer demeanor just added an extra layer to him. He was wearing something more stylish than the few tabloid pics you’d seen: a long-sleeved black shirt with a silky maroon and gold vest, accessorized with a few rings, bangles, necklaces, and a pair of gold dangling earrings.

You shook the wandering thoughts on his attractiveness away; this was for business, not pleasure. “I was just wondering if you’d mind singing one of the songs for us, that way we can get a feel for the melody you had in mind.”

Again, Atem seemed to swallow something in this throat as a hand reached up to briefly play with one of the flat triangles dripping from his ears. “I suppose I could do that, but, do you mind if I play my violin with it? I’ll find it easier to sing with some music.”

“Of course,” you waved an eager hand, egging him on before handing him back the music sheet in your hand.

His eyes scanned the pages, reminding himself of what song it was before nodding his head and reaching down to the instrument case beside the armchair. Jonouchi had made a comment about Atem carrying his violin everywhere, trying to set a joking mood, but it just caused a flushed Atem to mumble about how he had just picked it up from getting its weekly tuning.

Once Atem was standing, violin in hand, he took a deep breath to collect himself. Then, after two slow heartbeats, he began to play.

The first note was a sorrowful one, long, like a quiet, mournful hum, his slender fingers pulsing to create a wave effect on the sound. Then he was singing. His tone came out like a deep, almost breathy moan, letting the lyrics flow like a story at first- before his tone rose and belted out the chorus.

Atem was captivating, pulling you in with every line, every inflection, making you want to hold your breath lest the sound of it distract from the song. He kept his eyes closed, lost in the music his hands and mouth crafted, and the longer the song went on the more he seemed to relax, to lean into his own notes.

You blinked suddenly, realizing that your mouth had been hanging open just in time to close it before Atem ended his performance on another soaring note and breathy lyric. He stayed like that for a moment, catching his breath, basking in the lingering sound of his song.

Finally, his eyes blinked open and shifted to gauge everyone’s reaction. You weren’t the only one left in awe.

“Holy shit,” Honda breathed.

Yugi’s beaming smile was at maximum sunshine as he leaned into you and whispered, “That’s the song I heard him sing at the theatre, isn’t it beautiful?!”

You nodded and opened your mouth to say something but Anzu beat you to it.

“Can you do that again?” she asked, eager, as she jumped up and walked to her keyboard.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” you asked, also bouncing to your feet and joining her.

Anzu smiled back at you, “Keeping that longer intro and adding keys to it?”

“Yes!” you turned to Jonouchi- who was still staring at Atem like he didn’t quite believe the man was standing there. “Jou, add some drums? Something steady and subtle at first, drawing everyone in before the lyrics start and-”

“-and picking up when the chorus kicks in?” he finished, snapping to attention in an instant, “You got it!”

With that Jonouchi vaulted off the back of the couch, plopping onto the stool at his drum set. Atem was still standing there, now looking a bit bewildered and amused as he watched everyone get to work, perhaps some pride shining in his eyes that his music had inspired it.

“Atem?” you asked, tone gentle and drawing his attention back to you, “Can you play that again?” you repeated Anzu’s question, seeing as how she was fully engrossed in her keys now.

Again, the man seemed hesitant, “Shouldn’t you be taking over, you’re the lead singer after all.”

“Dude, we have to keep that violin track,” you insisted, finding your voice breathy as you pointed at Atem, “It’s perfect for the song, it’s deep and beautiful and-” speechless, you gave an exaggerated chef’s kiss to emphasize just how much you meant what you were touting.

The expression earned you a smile from the violinist, a hint of bashfulness mixing with the fresh and rising pride. “Alright, if you think it will improve the song.” With that, Atem lifted his violin, took another deep breath, and started the song again.

***

It was strange how no hands had officially shaken, no one even told Atem he was hired, but that session was immediately followed up by the band asking when his next free day was and asking him to come back for another practice session. Atem had never intended on actually playing with the band, but, when they acted so enthralled with his playing, he could hardly say no.

The next time they got together (almost a week after their first meeting) Atem found himself just as nervous as when he first met them. Parking outside their studio, he found his chest heating up with some anxiety. Atem never was good around people, after all.

Hello, my old heart

How have you been?

Are you still there inside my chest?

He rubbed his hands against the steering wheel, letting out a long breath and holding it a moment, before making himself grab his violin case and climb out of the car. His feet crunching on the gravel driveway grounded him a bit and he had managed to calm down slightly before knocking on the studio door.

I've been so worried, you've been so still

Barely beating at all

He heard the sound of laughter coming closer on the other side of the door and a moment later it opened, revealing you in the doorway and more laughter echoing yours in the next room.

“Atem, there you are! Come on in,” you stepped aside and waved an inviting arm.

Atem felt the heat in his chest climb up his neck, “Sorry, am I late?”

“Huh?” You then waved your hand again as you shut the door behind him, “Oh no don’t worry, we just got here early, that’s all.”

He heard someone else call his name before he even got to the room where everyone was sitting, and by the time he did enter, the whole band was waving and greeting him. He cleared his throat before nodding back to everyone and saying a weak ‘hello’ before you spoke again.

“Come on, sit down and chill for a bit before we get started,” you waved at a beat-up arm chair even as you perched on its armrest.

Atem realized with a quick look around that there was nowhere better for you to sit and you were likely offering him your own seat. “Oh, that’s alright, I don’t want to steal your seat-”

Before his offer to sit on the floor was out, you shook your head, “Dude, we can’t have our muse sitting in a creaky fold-up chair, at least sit on the other arm so I don’t topple it!” You laughed again as Honda made some comment about how a topple would probably bust the thing in half.

His cheeks were hot now, but he took the offer with grace (or at least, as much grace as he could muster) and perched himself on the other armrest, setting his violin on the actual seat. Atem also remembered how last time, he had been offered the armchair while Anzu took the creaky fold-up chair. Everyone here really seemed to care about making him comfortable.

Hello, my old heart

It's been so long

Since I've given you away

When was the last time he met anyone who had greeted him with such...openness? Such compassion. And a whole group of someones at that...

He cleared his throat again, trying to draw himself out of his wandering thoughts. “So, are we just going to work out more of the music today?”

And every day, I add another stone

To the walls I built around you

To keep you safe

Everyone seemed to respect his want to get down to business, perhaps thinking that he had other engagements, and only chit-chatted for a handful of minutes, before getting down to their rehearsal. It went well, just as the previous session had, and Atem found himself in awe of how well the creative process of making notes together flowed. Just like that first day, everyone seemed to work off of each other so well, bounding ideas left and right, almost always being on the same page. Even when they weren’t, there were just a few goodhearted jabs and sighs before working everything out.

Again Atem found himself shaking his thoughts away. He really should stop, it wasn’t wise to get attached to this process, these sessions, these people. After all, he was just their ghostwriter, nothing more.

Oh, don't leave me here alone

Don't tell me that we've grown

For having loved a little while

He found himself smiling again despite himself, when you started throwing popcorn kernels at Jonouchi; retribution for a comment about how you needed to change the chords up in the third chorus.

“I’m not changing it,” you said with your tongue sticking out, all while Jou looked affronted at your kernel bombing. “It’s a steady beat, that’s the whole point! Right, Atem?”

At the sound of his name, Atem’s eyes went wide, “Uh- What?”

“Eh, don’t drag him to your side!” Jonouchi pouted, tossing some popcorn from his lap back in your direction.

“I’m not dragging, I’m asking his opinion, there’s a difference,” you said matter of factly, then turned back to Atem, who was sweating a bit now, “What do you think, Atem? Are the same chords during the third chorus too boring? Or does it fit the subtle, powerful nature of the song?”

“You’re leading his answer!” Jonouchi countered, again looking appalled, then squawking as you tossed more popcorn at him.

Atem was a bit distracted by the way Honda kept laughing as Jou picked kernels out of his shirt, but eventually he managed to swallow thickly and answer your question. “I actually like the way you have it now, if I’m being honest.”

You beamed at him, stuck your tongue out at Jonouchi in victory, then held the popcorn bowl out to Atem. “Thank you, my muse! Here, have some brain food.”

His face was heating up again at nickname- or, dare he say, endearment? However, even as he blushed, and took a handful of popcorn, he couldn’t keep that smile from making yet another appearance.

Oh, I don't wanna be alone

I wanna find a home

And I wanna share it with you

When everyone called the day's session to an end, Atem tried not to feel...disappointed. Stop that , he told himself again, this was not something to get attached to. As everyone packed their notes away, Honda started asking about dinner.

“Heeey if I give you a ride to work, think you can get me a discount on nachos again?” he asked, turning to you with an eyebrow wiggle.

You scoffed, “Dude, the boss was barely okay with that one time I did it, I can’t convince her again. But I can just buy your nachos if you really want.”

“Where do you work?” Atem found himself asking, far too late to stop himself from getting involved.

“Oh- ever heard of The Mark? It’s a bar downtown.”

Atem shook his head, feeling a bit embarrassed. Admittedly, the only bar he had been in since college was the high-end one in his apartment building.

You didn’t seem to take notice of his embarrassment though and just shrugged, “It’s only popular to a certain crowd. Anyway,” you continued, turning back to Honda, “give me a ride and I’ll buy you nachos.”

“Okay, all this talk of nachos has me hungry,” Jonouchi groaned, “Let’s go with em, Yug.”

Anzu perked up at that, nodding to you as she said, “You know, I’ve really been craving your specialty daiquiris. Jou, got room in your truck for me?”

“Sure,” the drummer shrugged as everyone started milling towards the door.

Yugi was smiling brightly as he held the door open for everyone, “Guess it’s a band outing now! Atem, you want to join? You can follow us to the bar, it isn’t far.”

As his feet were once again crunching on the gravel drive, Atem had to stop. He looked back to the group, ready to see at least one of them giving an uneasy expression at the invitation, if not an outright protest.

Instead, he saw Anzu nodding her head eagerly while Honda locked up the studio. Neither you nor Jonouchi looked wary of the suggestion and instead just looked to him for an answer.

You must have thought he needed further prompting, because you said, “Hey, our ‘girls night’ plate of nachos is more than big enough for all of you.”

Atem had to swallow another something in his throat. All of you were already inviting him out for drinks?

Hello, my old heart

How have you been?

“I- sorry, I have to get up early in the morning. Thank you, though.” Atem could only cast his eyes to the ground during the half-lie.

How is it being locked away?

He saw something flicker in Yugi’s eyes, but he was quick to hide it with a smile. “Okay, maybe next time.”

Your smile matched Yugi’s as everyone headed to Jou’s truck and Honda’s bike, “Have a good night, Atem.”

Don't you worry, in there you're safe

“See you next week,” Anzu waved.

All he could manage was a nod as he turned towards his own car.

And it's true, you'll never beat

But you'll never break

It only took one more session to get the rest of the music figured out, and then it was time to record. Atem was interested in the process, how the five of you set up the sound equipment, what programs you used, he even asked you how you had installed padding to improve the sound quality.

The video part of the recording would be left for later, right now it was just the song to worry about- though you did make a point to tell Atem that you wanted to discuss setting ideas for the video soon. Atem felt his heart swell a bit at that. Not that he wanted to admit it, but he was glad that you wanted to involve him in every step of the song. This song in particular, this first one that had so enthralled Yugi first, was likely one of the more personal ones Atem had written.

Your voice rose with the chorus, fingers dancing gracefully against the bridge of the guitar, and Atem found himself admiring how well suited your voice was to his lyrics. A perfect fit. Though you likely had no way of knowing the background behind this song or why Atem had written it, you belted the lyrics with passion and depth, cared for every bar as if you were singing from the depths of your heart.

Maybe you were. Music spoke to more than just those who wrote it, perhaps not in the same ways, but that hardly mattered.

He heard the way the ending lyric stole your breath, and his violin hummed its final note with you in a harmony Atem had admired a dozen times during these rehearsals. When the last note ended, everyone waited a moment, seeming to hold their breaths, before daring to move. When everyone did, Jonouchi was already bounding over to the computer hooked up to the recording mics. With a few clicks and a quick look over something on the screen, the blonde gave a clap of his hands.

“We got it! That should be all we need for a high quality recording.”

Everyone cheered or hooted at that, and Yugi made a comment about finally having something new to give their fans. Atem was smiling with the rest of them, but he was failing to ignore the way his chest ached just a bit. The song was done, and, unless they asked him to join them on stage, Atem supposed this was the last time he would play with the band.

Writing songs for them was all nice in of itself, but, despite all his personal warnings not to, he would be lying if he said he hadn’t grown a bit attached to these evenings and nights with the band.

Oh, I don't wanna be alone

I wanna find a home

And I wanna share it with you

A sudden call of his name had Atem jolting back to the present, and he saw you standing beside him, a hint of concern creasing your brow. “Everything okay?”

“Uh-” he cleared his throat, “-yes, I’m alright,” he lied, just as he had lied to deny himself the after-work drinks weeks ago. “I was just thinking, we got so caught up in recording this song, that none of you got the chance to discuss if any others were to your liking.”

“What, any of your other songs?” Honda asked, and when Atem nodded, he literally waved the comment off, “Dude, I’m pretty sure we liked all the examples you gave us, right guys?”

“Definitely!” Yugi didn’t miss the chance to boost Atem’s ego (or rather, soothe any worries). “We actually looked over your other songs the other day, and all of us agree we want to record all of them. I told you you were a perfect fit for us!”

The words, as well as the wink Yugi gave, did make Atem smile, but it didn’t do much to alleviate the root of his woe. “I’m glad they fit with the band so well. If you want to know the melodies or themes I had in mind for any of the other songs as well, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

That seemed to give everyone pause.

Nothing lasts forever

Atem watched as they began giving each other looks, very pointed looks, in turns, and he couldn’t ignore the sinking sensation in his chest. They seemed to silently agree on something a moment later, because Anzu spoke up as her eyes turned back to Atem.

“Actually, we were talking about that a lot too…”

Some things aren't meant to be

Atem swallowed hard, heart starting to pound in his ears. Perhaps he wasn’t good enough, perhaps they thought him too pretentious, or maybe he had overstepped the boundaries of his role here, maybe he and his violin didn’t-

“How would you feel about joining the band for the whole album?”

But you'll never find the answers

Until you set your old heart free

Again, your voice put a break on Atem’s reeling thoughts, and he had to blink to collect himself again. “I- you mean, you want me to play for the other songs as well?”

More looks were exchanged, quick ones this time, before Yugi chimed in next. “We talked it over a lot the past week and we all agree that you gel with us pretty well! And not only that, but your violin really adds a lot to our music, we’d really love for you to record more songs with us, not just write them.”

Until you set your old heart free

Now Atem’s heart was pounding in his ears for a whole other reason. He almost wanted to smack himself when he felt the widest, most giddy grin he ever remembered smiling spread across his face.

“I would like that very much,” he said, cheeks going a bit warm when everyone was returning his smile.

Hello, my old heart

“So what are we waitin’ for?” Jonouchi jumped in, all enthusiasm and eagerness, “What song are we doing next?”

That sparked conversation, and everyone started chiming in with their votes almost immediately, Yugi and Anzu even digging out Atem’s sheet music for references. Atem could only take the scene in with a smile that was widening the more he watched them bicker good-heartedly.

And he was glad he had gotten attached to this process, these sessions, to these people.

I wanna share it with you

#atem x reader #yami x reader #yugioh x reader #yugioh band au #series: a thousand songs #atem #yami yugi

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keepthyfaithandthylight · 3 years ago

Text

TW: talking about 9/11

Growing up post-9/11:

This is just my experience, my thoughts and feelings, which most likely hold no weight, but I’ll share anyway.

I remember not knowing about 9/11 until I was about 5 or 6, I was getting ready for school one morning and my mother told me “remember to wear red white and blue today.” I had no idea what she was talking about, but I agreed. At some point someone may have explained it, but it didn’t really sink in. I don’t remember a lot of other kids wearing red white and blue, but I didn’t really mind.

Skip forward a few years, I’m in music class. Same school. We didn’t do much with learning that day if I remember correctly, in that class specifically. We all sat in our chairs, listening obediently as students do. Our PE teacher was from New York, her father (who also worked at the school, and was genuinely a very nice guy) was a police officer at the time. She told us that her parents picked her up early from school, and that she could see the smoke from there.

My grandma would tell me stories, explained what happened that day, where she was when it happened, and slowly it began to dawn on me. I grew more curious, I asked more questions, I watched kids movies about it (obviously, as I was a child.)

One vacation we went to DC, I saw the pentagon with my own eyes which was surreal. But I recall thinking about the plane that crashed into it as we drove by.

I vividly remember one documentary that my father watched saying “everyone remembers where they were that day.” That was when things really started to turn for me.

Every documentary that says that, every documentary talking about the experience, every story that I hear, every conversation with my family drills in the fact that I could never possibly understand what that day was like, but I do- not fully, only a small fraction of what everyone else does- because I have had to live my entire life in the aftermath.

I remember seeing the news broadcast telling the whole country that they had killed Osama bin Laden. I didn’t understand who he was at the time.

I remember growing terribly obsessed with the tragedy.

My grandmother told me the story of Tod Beamer. He became a bit of a hero to me as a child, his courage, the willingness to die to save others, to help save his country, struck a chord in my tiny child heart. It always will, and I will strive to have the same courage, and if needed, I hope I will take the same stand he did.

But as I grow older, the day has become more of a massive guilt trip to me, for no other reason except for the fact that I wasn’t alive to know the pain, to be able to say “I remember.” I will never be able to say “I remember” and I will never know the pain of that day. All I know is the aftermath, and that is all I will ever know.

My father told me the whole country seemed to stop that day.

My mother told me about her phone call with my grandmother.

My grandmother told me about her friend from New York.

I was the only kid who would wear red white and blue.

No one ever talked about it at school. The teachers never told us anything. Too painful to talk about? Perhaps, but still we have to talk about it.

I don’t know. But this day is not about me, it is about those who lost their lives and shouldn’t have. It is about their friends and families.

My deepest and most heartfelt sympathies go to the friends and families of the victims, and all of the first responders. We will always need brave souls like those of the first responders who went into the buildings and tried to save people, they embody the spirit of America, and always will. Your courage, grit and determination will never be forgotten. I sincerely hope that their souls are at peace.

#9/11 #I ended up nearly crying twice today

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one-boring-person · 4 years ago

Note

Ok so a Hawkins x reader x poncho where the reader gets sick of his jokes about women and just decks Hawkins in the face, which knocks him off his feet. This action is a turning point between the reader and Poncho as well as Hawkins. Petty fights between the two and constant flirting to the reader ensues. You can choose the ending ☺️

Ok, so I got a bit stuck writing this one, but I hope it's alright? Sorry if it sucks 😅 (can you tell I'm bad at flirting lol)

Get A Room.

Poncho x reader x Hawkins

Warnings: violence, injury, death, gun usage, very minor spoilers

Masterlist

As usual, Poncho is quick to notice (Y/n)'s body stiffening as she hears Hawkins begin another of his notoriously terrible jokes, her face setting into a hard expression. Her movements slow, the hands around the stock of her gun tightening as she becomes more and more annoyed, everyone able to recognise this change in mood except the man responsible for it, who has already dug himself a deep enough hole.

Billy is on the receiving end of today's quip, the dark-haired man listening to his compatriot's joke attentively, though he never shows any reaction to it, not until it's been fully told. Hawkins continues with the same line of humour he's always used: inappropriate references to women and their genitalia. Practically groaning out loud, Poncho can feel his patience for the man draining away, though he keeps a hold on himself, knowing that starting an argument now won't help anything, the group already having shot nerves after finding the corpses strung up in the trees, like racks of meat in an abattoir. Even now, a shiver goes down his spine at the memory, doing his best to erase it though he is aware that it won't work: the image has become branded into his mind forever.

"I've had enough. Hold this." (Y/n) suddenly growls, thrusting the rifle she's holding into Poncho's hands, turning to face Hawkins.

Lightening fast, she lunges forwards, her fist cracking across the young man's face with an audible crunch, his head jerking with the impact, glasses flying from his brow. His body follows his head, dropping to the floor as he clutches at his cheek, groaning in pain as she stands over him, flexing her hand. Around her, the rest of the group move to intercept, in case a fight should break out, but she does nothing to follow up, instead taking her gun from a dumbstruck Poncho, before going to walk with a smirking Blain. Dutch reprimands her swiftly, but he is containing a grin of his own, the major clearly proud of her for finally acting on her distaste for the bad jokes.

Dazed, Hawkins remains sat where he is for a moment, Billy chuckling and moving off, leaving he and Poncho behind, both men staring after their comrade, wide-eyed. At this point, all either can think is damn.

Heatwaves from the explosion wash over the concealed team as they wait in the trees, eyes wide as they watch Dutch take out his gun, firing off into the scrambling guerrillas. His voice calls loudly over the mingled sounds of screaming and collapsing structures, spitting gunfire quickly breaking out as the settlement inhabitants retaliate, blind to their attackers though determined nevertheless. Blain, Mac, Dillon, Billy and (Y/n) spring into action, easily dropping into the blazing camp, guns roaring as they take out the men shooting at them; Poncho and Hawkins find themselves slightly delayed, attention focused on something else entirely as they hastily rush to their comrades, faces blushing. Both men push aside their embarrassment, concentrating on the task at hand as they take out the camp.

All around, crates and barrels go up in flames, splinters of wood flying everywhere as bullets pelt their sides, ragged holes appearing in the containers even as bodies end up sprawled over the top of them. Nothing but gunfire and cries of pain are audible to the raiders and their enemies, ears ringing with the deafening cacophony of noise, rendering the sense almost useless - if they weren't already used to this side-effect. Orders are heard and received, executed to a high efficiency as they always are, Dutch feeling a small burst of pride flare up in his chest at the effectiveness of his team, his own gun vibrating violently in his hands with each round of bullets. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices a couple of guerrillas hiding out in a nearby building, sharpshooting at the people responsible for the destruction of their camp.

Frowning, he notices (Y/n) nearby, calling out to her and gesturing for her to follow on, receiving a brief nod in agreement as she makes her way over. Over her head, Dutch sees Poncho make as if to follow, a worried expression on his face, only to stop when he hears the major order him elsewhere, finding that Blain needs some help. Shaking his head in exasperation, the veteran leads (Y/n) into the main structure of the settlement, knowing the way up to the nearby building is through there, the two coming across a couple of rogue guerrillas here. Thankfully, they are swiftly taken care of, both (Y/n) and Dutch efficiently dealing with the threat as they move on to the structure they came for.

Kicking down the door, Dutch gives a bitter smirk as the men inside turn to the intruders in fear.

"Knock knock." He greets them, firing off a couple of well-placed rounds, nailing the dumbstruck guerrillas instantly.

Entering the small area, Dutch goes to the open part of the structure, looking out over the wreckage below him, taking note of a couple of runners. Glancing around swiftly, he sees Hawkins nearby, the smaller man calling out for (Y/n) for whatever reason as he moves through one of the other walkways. Quick to intercept this, Dutch gestures for him to take out the runners, glad to see the young man nod and duck away to do so, his attention momentarily distracted.

It's not until he hears a struggle behind him that he whirls round, gun at the ready.

He doesn't have to fire, (Y/n) having already subdued the threat with ease, the struggling figure writhing in her grip as she pins them down, knees holding down the arms as she presses down the person's head. Clearly distressed, the person tries once more to get away, before lying still, giving both intruders a better look at them. They frown as they realise exactly who it is: it's a woman. At that moment, Dutch figures out what the real purpose of this goddamned mission is, knowing now that he'd been foolish to listen to Dillon and Phillips.

Seeing Dutch's grim expression, (Y/n) gives him a confused look.

"What's wrong, major?" She asks, cocking her head.

"We've been set up." Is all he says, just as Hawkins and Poncho burst into the room, eyes landing on (Y/n) instantly. Dillon follows behind them, though he takes his time.

Noticing the definite change in their leader's attitude, Hawkins, Poncho and (Y/n) leave the area and go back down into the main part, looking for survivors. Both men jostle each other to stay ahead of her, forming a wall of some sort between her and whatever is ahead of them, something which she is quick to pick up on.

"Jeez, guys, get a room." She snorts as she pushes past them, going to move on before Hawkins speaks again.

"Only if you come with." He says before he can stop himself, breath hitching slightly as she turns her gaze on him.

"Keep it in your pants, Hawkins." She responds, an odd look on her face as she ducks out of sight, going to complete a circuit of the settlement.

The two watch her go, Hawkins internally cursing himself as he tries to follow, only to be pulled back by an annoyed Poncho.

"The hell did you do that for?!" The other man snaps at him, a scowl etched into his features.

"What's your problem?" Hawkins replies, equally as irritated, looking his comrade up and down.

"My problem is that you just made us both look like idiots!"

"Me?! I wasn't the one trying to get all protective a minute ago!"

"Like hell you weren't!" Poncho growls back, glancing up as Blain passes nearby, "Just keep it in your pants, alright?"

As he hears the repeated words, Hawkins feels himself get even angrier with his companion, his jaw clenching as he watches him walk away. Kicking at the ground, he turns and goes his own way, his head filled with images of (Y/n)'s curious expression from earlier. Something about her reaction to his jokes had struck a chord within him, his hand straying to his face to run over the slight mark her punch left, the ache still there even after an hour or so, his head turning to look back at where she disappeared.

Correcting his path, he moves off in that direction.

Hawkins had always talked a lot, but somehow (Y/n) had never quite noticed it until now.

Rolling her eyes, she picks her way back into the settlement, her new companion trailing behind her like a shadow, his words going mostly unheard as she focuses on keeping her footing. At some point, she'd realised that he wasn't going to shut up and had since started tuning him out, completely missing the new angle of his conversation.

"...It's why I reckon you shouldn't have gone into this profession." He says, still rambling despite her lack of attention.

"Huh? What do you mean?" (Y/n) suddenly tunes back in, frowning at this new statement.

"Well, you're far too beautiful to be running through the jungle." He explains, nearly grinning at the fact that she paid attention to him.

"The hell is that supposed to mean?" She questions him, turning to face him with a scathing look; he is one of her closest friends, but he could be really clumsy with his words sometimes.

Floundering, Hawkins' mouth opens and closes a few times, the young man struggling for words to fully explain what he meant without upsetting her.

"Just that you could do equally as well in a different job, like...modelling or something?" Under her piercing stare, he falters again, "Not that you're not good at this job, or anything, you're really good!"

Frowning, (Y/n) regards him carefully, before shaking her head and leaving him where he is, going back to the settlement. Cursing himself, Hawkins grits his teeth, knowing he just made a complete fool of himself, though he is thankful no one else is around to see it. Or so he thinks.

"Was that your attempt at flirting?" Poncho comments, emerging from the underbrush nearby, smirking at his comrade's downfall.

Glaring at him, Hawkins feels irritation rise up within him.

"I'd like to see you do better, asshole." He snaps back, flipping off the grinning man across from him.

"Watch and learn." He shrugs, still chuckling as he leaves Hawkins where he is and follows (Y/n).

Emerging into the settlement, Poncho immediately locates (Y/n), going over to her confidently with his gun held loosely across his chest. She looks up as he nears her, her brow furrowing slightly at the sight, curiosity getting the better of her as she stands still to let him catch up to her.

"Find anyone?" He asks her as he gets within earshot, gesturing to the forest around them.

"No, no one. You?" She responds, adjusting her hold on the gun slightly.

"Nope. I assumed they'd all been hit by you."

"Blain got them all, I think."

"Doubt it. They probably saw you coming and legged it." He remarks, smirking at her.

Lifting an eyebrow, (Y/n) reloads her gun, ready for use if she needs it.

"Hey, no need to shoot me, it's a compliment." Poncho holds up his hands in mock surrender, grinning at her, though she only frowns, looking a little confused.

"Thanks." Is all she says, nodding to Blain and Mac, who have emerged from the wreckage, followed by Dutch, Billy and Dillon, who is dragging a guerrilla girl behind him, "What the hell does he want her for?"

"Who?"

"Dillon. He's got that guerrilla girl Dutch and I found."

"Oh, I could name a few things." Poncho winks at her, though he is almost mortified when she gives him a weird look and leaves him where he is, going to stand with Dutch and Billy over the bonnet of a nearby car.

Cursing, he tries not to scowl too badly when he sees Hawkins shoot him a triumphant glance, going over to the main group with a slight blush, finding himself embarrassed. (Y/n) and Dutch are talking amongst themselves, a terse grin breaking out onto his face as he hears something, his angered facade cracking briefly. Unfortunately, both Hawkins and Poncho are within earshot for the response.

"The two of them are idiots, but they'll get their acts together eventually. They like you enough, they'll change their crappy flirting techniques, but you might have to wait a while." The major informs (Y/n), who smirks at the comments and thanks him, moving away from him as he goes to ask Billy something.

Hawkins and Poncho exchange a glance over the top of their compatriots' heads.

#predator imagine #predator 1987 #predator #Poncho x reader #Hawkins x reader

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wincestisasincest · 5 years ago

Text

2000 Man (A beatle!reader story) - Part 4: If Love is a Drug

She is back! And better than ever.....

Not really, sorry it’s been radio silence/lurking, she’s had something of a depressive episode recently, but she’s getting back on her feet. So yea, I don’t want to promise anything, but I’ll try to post more.

And finally get a masterlist at some point with this series, for goodness’ sake.

So yea.

When should I stop crediting @casafrass for this? I feel like it’s getting annoying, but it’s only fair.

Description: It’s the year 2000, and y/n, the fifth member of the Beatles, is advertising her new book, Madam Beatle, in her first interview of the year. We see snapshots of her life, from when she joined the band, to the trials and tribulations, to the death of the band, and everything in between. Loosely inspired by Slumdog Millionaire.

Part: 1, 2, 3, 4

Headcanons: Based off of this one, though like, not really, just the general vomit theme.

Words: 3,951 (woop, she’s a long one, get ready for some TEA)

Pairings: Honestly, just let me know if you would like me to put some pairings in here, because most of all of the ones that I’ve written, you can read it either way, so please, just let me know!

Warnings: Vomit, drugs, pills, violence, swearing

“So I understand that at one point you talk about a conversation that you had with Judy Garland.”

“Yes, she and I met, actually I don’t remember where, but it was one of those random ‘high society’ parties, and we struck up a sort of conversation. I think we found each other’s stories interesting, because, as women in the entertainment industry, even across film and music, there were some startling similarities.”

“Would you care to expand on those similarities a little?”

“I mean, besides the fact that so much of the focus is on our bodies, which we’ve already discussed, the zeitgeist of the time seemed to be that women simply weren’t ready to handle all of the pressures that that sort of system put on us. Of course, this meant drugs, particularly amphetamines, which were quite vogue in the US at the time. Judy and I were both familiar with that sort of concept, however, the difference lied in that Judy chose to go on amphetamines, and I was given them.”

“Given them by...?”

“EMI, mostly, but everyone, including me, was complicit in a way. Though, it did slip more into self-regulation in the Beatles’ later years, and I even fully recovered by my solo career. But yea, especially in the earlier ones, during our massive concert tours, a lot of it was... very strong suggestions.”

“You were known for being very strong-willed, though.”

“Yeah, but y’know, it’s my career. I guess at the time, even if EMI had let me go, I could’ve gone somewhere else on the name alone, but I was young, stupid, and scared of non-existent threats, so I really did put up with it for quite long.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“She hasn’t come out of that room since last night.”

“It’s called sleeping, Rings.”

“It’s past noon! She came straight up here after dinner last night.”

“And she locked the door.”

“Very suspicious.”

“You think we could get Mal to break it down?”

“What if there’s a guy in there?”

“Then we’ve got to break it down.”

“She’s an adult!”

“What if she’s DEAD?”

“Someone get Mal.”

Your eyes fluttered open. With friends like these, who needs an alarm clock?

Through blurry eyes, you could read the actual alarm clock: 3:17.

Everything was alright for about 20 seconds, and then all of the crappy feelings had re-settled into your wakened state. Your legs felt like they were filled with cement, your nose was congested, your hands were clammy, you were extremely sweaty even though it was absolutely freezing, and you were stilled tired, even though you had gone to bed at 7:30 last night.

You sauntered over to the door, pulling on a pair of sweat pants over your bare legs.

You pressed your sweaty fingers down on the cool lock and pulled it open.

“Do not! Call Mal! I am here.” Four blank faces gawked back at you, all far more spritely than you cared to admit that you weren’t. The suits were on as well.

“Is that what you look like without makeup?” John quipped in mock-surprise. He knew damn well what you looked like without makeup, he just couldn’t give up a chance to be his sarcastic asshat self. You sighed.

“Not now, please, John.” The light in the main suite was too bright, so you pushed your head into the doorway and closed your eyes. You wanted to sit down again.

“(y/n), love, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but it is 3:30, and you’ve got to get your act together at some point.” You couldn’t see his face, but you knew that was Ringo.

“I know what time it is, I’m just... eurgh,” You didn’t bother opening your eyes, “This shit is exhausting.”

“We can’t can-”

“I know, I know,” you interrupted Paul, “I’ll be out in fifteen minutes.”

- time skip brought to you by I am very tired -

“(y/n), do you want me to carry that?” George appeared at your side, holding his hand out near yours, grabbing at the guitar case.

“Nah, I’m fine.”

“I don’t know if I believe that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You chuckled weakly.

“Your playing was off. You missed a few chords. You didn’t smile as much, and your voice was weaker. I can tell.”

“Rough night is all. Remember, we can’t cancel even if I am sick. But I’m fine.” Your grip on the guitar case loosened unconsciously as your arm felt weaker.

“Sure.” George swung his hand in and grasped at the handle of your case, before taking it in his own. You sighed, but still didn’t feel like answering.

“What a gentleman you are, Georgie.” John ruffled his hair with his free hand.

A pattering of very angered footsteps approached behind you, and you instantly knew who it was. Only one man could angrily footstep like that.

“What the hell was that, (y/n)?” Brian spun you around to look at him. Though you could tell that there was some softness in his eyes, and that he was perhaps worried just as much for you as for your reputation, he was still fuming.

“Whaddya mean?” You fumbled out.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice. You were out of it tonight. Well? What was it? Weed? Cocaine? Alcohol? All of them?!”

“Scout’s honor, Brian, it was just a weird night.” Brian’s grip loosened on your shoulders, as he facepalmed. He looked back up at you sympathetically.

“You’re a little pale, (y/n), perhaps you should take an early night.” You peered over your shoulder, only to catch the lads instantly trying to pretend like they weren’t listening in on your conversation. You were going to go to a very fancy club tonight, and you had been looking for a chance to dress up. You looked back at Brian, who was almost sweating. Anything to ease his worry.

“Alright, just this night. Even though I swear I’m fine.”

“Right, right. Why don’t you head back with the equipment, and I’ll head out with the boys?”

“Sounds like a plan.” You sighed and could feel your eyes droop. You trudged back to the black van and hauled yourself in the back, giving a small wave to Mal in the mirror. He nods understandingly. You shut the van doors.

“Where’s she goin’?” You hear John bug Brian like a petulant child.

“Back to the hotel, I think.”

“Killjoy.” Paul muttered.

George just watched the van leave over Ringo’s shoulder, whom he was deeply in conversation with.

- time skip -

It happened again. You had fucked up again. You’d missed some of your chords, your voice had cracked at one point, and not in the hot way, and your energy on stage was no longer a bubbly bounce, but a gentle, almost sleepy, swaying.

Your fuck-up only really hit you after, though, as you had zoned out while you were on stage.

You couldn’t go out to face the boys. You just couldn’t. You sat in your locked dressing room, head in your hands, as you stared at your knees trying not to pass out. Everything was blurry.

You were awakened from your thoughts by a loud thumping. You could feel your stomach drop. It was an angry knock. Why did men always have to be so angry?

“(Y/n), I know you’re in there.” It was John. Of course it was John. It was always John. He never knew when to stop.

You leaned back in your chair, dazed, knowing full well that you didn’t have to let him in if you didn’t want to. You shakily pulled a cigarette out of a pack on the table and it it with your delicately engraved lighter while the pounding continued. He would die out there if he had to.

“Whaddya want?” You blew a plume of smoke and coughed.

“Why are women always so dramatic? Just let me in, damnit!”

“Not if you don’t stop acting like a petulant goddamn child!”

“Call me a child, will you? I’m not the one who can’t handle every goddamn concert. What? Are you too tired? Awww, I’m sorry. Do you need a nap?”

You could feel your eyes brim with tears. You put out the cigarette, grabbed your bag, and opened the window. The wind blew in your face, and it was almost calming. Using the gymnastics skills that you had honed as a kid, you slunk out the window and onto the open street, your heels clacking on the pavement. You pulled a coat over your face and called a taxi, only offering cash but making sure to keep your looks relatively obscured. Back to the hotel, where you could sleep it all off.

- Time skip -

You slept for 20 hours, and yet, you still woke up feeling all the worse. The clock read 4:00. You were about to be late for call. There was no shuffling outside, so you could assume that the lads had already left. Awesome.

You fixed your hair, grabbed your guitar, called a limo, and added small touches of makeup on the ride there. You could barely feel anything anymore, and your body had gone completely numb. You chunked on foundation way more than usual as to hide the cold sweat and incredible paleness that your face had broken out in. Some of the powder drifted over your lips, and you felt a welling of stomach acid churn.

You swallowed, took a deep breath, and your stomach calmed down once more. You were backstage.

You thanked the cab driver before slipping through the back door, barely being able to make it open. The first thing you met was Brian having a panic attack, which actually made sense for once, as there was about 15 minutes until you were on stage.

“(Y/n)! Where the bloody hell were you?!” The rest of the lads were behind him, speaking and looking at you like some high school girl’s clique. You shot them an angry, but weak, stare.

“No one woke me up.”

“You look like death.” Paul piped up from the back.

“You’ll meet death very fuckin’ soon-” You had no time for any of the sass anymore, but a hand clamping on your shoulder cut you off. You looked up to your left, and were greeted by the face of Neil Aspinall.

“That’s enough of that, (y/n), we have something to do.” He didn’t wait for your answer, but simply lead you backstage. You were far too dazed to resist, so you simply let him steer.

“So, the company, not me, heard that you haven’t exactly been on your A-game lately, and they recommended something.” You nodded, still not listening.

“Apparently, a lot of rockstars use it, they heard about it from the manager of the Animals or something, so I thought we could give it a try. It’s supposed to help you get that burst of energy that you need.” He patted your shoulder joyfully.

“Now, this is all of the company’s doing, so, if you don’t want to take them, then I completely understand, and I’ll just tell them that you did, but I am supposed to mention them.” Neil’s voice drifted off. In front of you was a table with several small white pills and a glass of water.

“No. I’ll take it. We gotta a show to do.” You were sure that Neil said something, but you didn’t hear, as you were too busy downing the pills and the water in one determined gulp.

- Time skip -

That night was the most energetic that you had been. Almost too energetic. Your eyes were shot and pink, though fortunately all of the audience was too far away to notice. Your playing was erratic and very harsh, though the screaming was too loud to hear. Your vocals, well, those would not be matched until some actual crackheads took the stage later.

None of your actions felt deliberate, everything felt at the whim of the surges of energy jolting through your body, while your actual mind just felt more and more disconnected, and your stomach churned. The lights gave you a pulshing headache.

Three-quaraters through the show, you began to come back to Earth again, though not because the drugs were wearing off, but because something else was beginning to emerge. You could feel it. The wave rising up in your stomach. You swallowed. You shouted the lyrics into the microphone. You put your all into the song, even though you no longer felt the energy. You were not going to mess up on stage again.

Paul gave you some side-eye. Though the fans were absolutely eating up, he wasn’t buying your shtick.

Finally, you made it to the last number. The crowd screamed. Your heart pounded in your chest. You were sweating like crazy, and your hair was sticking to your face. Your legs felt wobbly, but you thew a hand up and waved goodbye to the crowd, as well as to any sense of calm in your stomach.

As you shambled off stage, Ringo scrambled up behind you and put an arm around your shoulder, steadying you. Oh god, even he knew and he couldn’t see your face. Your guitar was slung around your shoulder, but you forgot that it existed, and slammed it into a poor stagehand.

With your last sense of control left, you removed our guitar the minute that you got off stage and handed it to said stagehand, who was highly confused, while you grabbed the nearest trashcan and heaved your entire stomach into it. Mind you, since you had slept for the last day, there were hardly contents to begin with, just raw stomach acid.

Your throat burned, you sweat, and your eyes wanted to do nothing but close. You could feel gentle hands pulling your hair back, while startled screams and yells rose up backstage. You didn’t care. You had fallen to your knees, taking the trashcan with you, still completely retching your stomach into anything that would take it.

“What the hell did you do ta her?”

“It wasn’t me, it was that stuff that EMI sent over?”

“What stuff?”

“I don’t know, pills, something!”

“You gave her pills? She’s clearly had the fucking flu, on top of dealing with your ridiculous schedule.

“I just did what they told me to do!”

“Brian! I want you to end the contract with EMI right now.”

“John, you don’t mean that, sit down.”

“I second.”

“Paul, John, why don’t we all just-”

“No! If this is how they choose to treat people, to treat (y/n), then I don’t want anything to do with them. Look at what you’ve done to her!

“What I’ve done?! This is not just me, and you know it.”

“I never said give her fucking pills!”

“You never say anything, you just yell!”

“Mal, can you call an ambulance?”

“Already done, Georgie.”

The vomit stopped, and you lifted your head up, wiping your mouth with your sleeve. Ringo’s hands gently fell from your hair.

“No, no ambulance, I’m fine.” Your voice was so raspy, like your throat had been torn out.

John, Paul, Brian, and Neil froze in the middle of their argument while George and Mal cocked their heads to look at you from the side. John only stayed quiet for a second.

“You’re not fine, you’re on fucking drugs!” He lurched forward, approaching you. You could feel your stomach quell again. You swallowed.

“Any drug that I was on,” you breathed deeply, “is in there.” You pointed to the trashcan.

“You’re being ridiculous, I-”

“No! Fuck you! You don’t get to say shit!” that come out far louder than you expected. You stood at your full height, willing to handle the discomfort if it meant telling him off. You’d even surprised John/

“How the fuck can you pretend like I’m the one acting ridiculous right now considering all the shit that you said to me yesterday? How far does your fucking double standard go? Of all the sins you’ve committed, John Lennon, I never thought that hypocrisy would be one of them. Get a grip, goddamnit! This is just as much your fault as it is mine, and I know you know that, so look me in the eye and for a goddamn second confront the consequences of your actions!” You were breathing very heavily now, whether with anger or exhaustion, and you could feel a surge of energy come through you yet again, though this time you weren’t sure if it was the drug.

You lunged at John, aiming your fist at his face. Everyone suddenly shifted into action all of a sudden, with George and Ringo holding you back and Paul pulling John away, though you noted that Paul refused to look John in the eye.

“Woah, woah, (y/n), take it easy. Calm down. It’s alright, it’s alright.” You could hear George softly try to calm you, though your heavy breathing continued, and at some point along the way, you ended up crying into his shoulder as Ringo patted your back.

“Come on, you’ve done enough.” You heard footsteps shuffle away, followed shortly after by another pair, leaving you, George, Ringo, and a very awkward Mal.

You cried until there were no tears left to cry. Your legs got tired from standing at some point, so you simply sat down, with George and Ringo joining you as Mal left to explain to the ambulance that they wouldn’t be needing their services today.

You swallowed, and you could feel the tears begin to stick to your cheeks.

“We should probably go back to the hotel.” You leaned against George’s shoulder pensively.

“If you’re up to it, Birdie.”

“Yeah, I’m alright.”

You stood up weakly as Ringo wrapped his jacket around you. The three of you returned to the hotel without another word.

- Time skip -

You, George, and Ringo, slowly creaked open the door to your shared massive suite. Paul sat in the middle of the room, a beam of moonlight illuminating his face, legs crossed, just as he was waiting for you. John was nowhere to be seen.

“There you are!” he said in a stage whisper, “I was worried sick!” He rose from his chair and approached your trio.

Before you could even anticipate what he was doing and protest, he wrapped you in a very warm hug. He was always good at those. He held you like he was afraid to lose you, and you used what strength you had left to return it with all your might, as if you were afraid to lose him. The two of you stayed like that for a minute, without words, before he separated.

“You best get some sleep. All of you.” His eyes traveled to George and Ringo, and it was clear that there was no more room for negotiation.

The three of you gently drifted into your rooms with Paul watching you all leave. The minute your face touched your pillow, you fell into a dreamless sleep.

- Time skip -

God only knows how long you had slept, but the growling of your stomach woke you up next morning. You felt a lot better, at least, and the mothering of Paul, making sure that you ate and drank enough, and that you didn’t need anything, made sure that you were gradually on your way to some form of recovery.

Paul, as you had learned, was originally the one who had postulated that you had some form of the flu, and the symptoms proved his predictions correct. Thankfully, he was well equipped to care for people with the flu, having done so for his family growing up, so he knew all of the common remedies.

John was still nowhere to be found, but George and Ringo emerged from their rooms one by one, and the four of you lazed around, reading papers and watching the news, for the rest of the morning.

When you finally asked where John was, Paul answered that he had gotten up early and gone for a walk. Pretty long walk, you guessed, but didn’t pry.

At noon, there was a gentle knock on the door. Paul admitted a very sheepish looking Brian into the suite. He approached the table.

“How are you feeling?”

You took a long sip of water.

“I’m alright, better than yesterday.”

“That’s good.” His hand rubbed the back of his neck. There were other things on his mind.

“Um, I wanted to apologize, on behalf of me, and Neil, who is speaking to the company at this point, he’s trying to-”

“It’s fine,” you interrupted, pausing to gather your thoughts, “No, really, it is. You didn’t know, and neither did I, and neither did Neil. And I’m alive. Now we just know not to do it again.”

“I suppose you’re right,” you shifted in our seat to grab the tea pot, though Brian shook his head, “No, no, I must be going, we’re traveling again today. But, enjoy your tea, and I’ll see you in a few.”

You nodded sagely. Brian began to take his leave, but halfway through the door, he turned around to look at the solemn crowd.

“You know, you all really do mean a lot to me. I promise you that. Not as clients, but people. This will not happen again.” And with that, he left.

- Time skip (last one, we’re almost done folks) -

“I’ll take that.” John grabbed the large box off your hands, and you squeaked with surprise. His face twisted into an unfamiliar expression of damaged concern almost instantly.

“Oh, sorry, I just didn’t hear you come in.”

“Yeah, I was on a walk this morning.” He continued to struggle with the box. You’d finally had enough of it, and leaned in to help him haul it to the top of the shelf in the crate.

The two of you stood there awkwardly, both refusing to look the other in the eye.

“I-”

“You-”

You both began speaking at the same time, interrupting eachother.

“You go first. “ He offered.

“No, no, I’ve said enough.” You waved your hands defensively.

“So have I.” He chuckled.

Another awkward silence.

“I guess,” he began, “I’m sorry for saying that shit to you. I was stressed, angry, and I know that’s not an excuse, but then you got on the drugs, and I was so worried, and I guess I just never realized...” he trailed off, realizing that he was just on the verge of not making sense. He took a deep breath.

“I guess, what I”m trying to say is that I would never, ever, want you to do what you had to do there. It wasn’t fair of me to put that kind of pressure on you, and everyone else. And, you didn’t hear it from me, but I’ll try to do better.”

You chuckled lightly.

“That sounds like a plan. And, I guess I’m sorry for not coming to you sooner.”

“You don’t have to apologize.”

“Yes, I do. I just let you get worried about me, stupidly thinking that I could handle it all by myself, and I just totally forgot about everyone else. It’s kind of ironic that I, uh, snapped at you about how your actions affect others, when I did the same exact thing. So, uh, I’ll work on that too.”

You swore you could see the smallest bit of a smile on his face. The first one in a while.

“Well then,” he thrust out his hand, “let’s make that a deal. Mutual forgiveness, and hopefully, mutual progress”

You took his warm hand in yours.

“You got it, John.”

#beatle!reader #the beatles #beatles #the beatles x reader #beatles x reader #john lennon #john lennon x reader #paul mccartney #paul mccartney x reader #George Harrison #george harrison x reader #ringo starr x reader #Ringo Starr #60s #classic rock #madam beatle

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yami-yomiel · 4 years ago

Text

We’re about to die, but at least we can say goodbye

[I’ve never posted fanfiction before, but hopefully people will like it...and yes this is an OC i inserted in ghost trick.]

[potential triggers: Guns, death/blood, chapter 15 spoilers, and me saying ‘man in red’ a lot (all expect for the last one in minimal detail however.)]

“CABS, IS EVERYTHING OK? I HEARD SOMETHING EXPLODE.” the blonde said, swinging the office door open as fast as she could. The inspector was limp in the chair, blood staining his precious white coat, with a mysterious blonde figure in red on the phone next to him, her heart and mind began racing.

Really what do you do in a situation like this, do you run and punch(in in this case shoot) the guy, or do you bend down and kiss his shoes hoping he’ll spare your life? What Brooke did would be considered brave, irrationally brave.

She stood in front of Cabanela, banging her fist on the table and interrogating the man in red,

“Look pal, i don’t know who you are or what your business is, but you’re committing assault, you know.” Great job Brooke, you just stated the obvious, you’ll definitely get a raise on your next paycheck..

“Oh really, i thought i was having a lovely chat with the inspector.” he replied, there was a tone in his voice that really irked her, he continued as he placed the phone back on the handle-

“Listen sweetheart, these are private matters, if you don’t stop interfering then i might have to make you.” his voice was smooth but that sweetheart bit really pushed her over the edge. she pulled her revolver out of her jacket pocket, aiming right for his temple.

“Go ahead, I dare you.” he edged her on, it didn’t sound like a tease- it was a demand.

BANG!

The man didn’t bleed, but he did flop over backwards, landing on the polished floor.

Brooke (foolishly) dropped her gun and went to check on Cabanela, thankfully he’s just unconscious, she suspected that he was wounded during the explosion; perhaps just a few broken bones or two.

She planted a kiss on his forehead whispering “Hang in there bud, I’ll get you out of here.”

Click

“It’s funny really..” a sinister voice started, the hairs on her back started standing. “This is giving me a sense of deja-vu, makes sense since Cabanela did the same, now look at him.” Brooke didn’t have the courage to turn around fully, but she can tell the man in red came back, now wielding her weapon.

She started to shake, her fingers firmly gripping the seat’s arms, digging her aquamarine and green nails into the leather. She tried to focus on a way to escape, but no matter how hard she tried- her legs wouldn’t move. “Well..do you have any last words?” he asked, pushing the gun closer to head, she could feel the cold metal against her scalp, it was no different from the chills going up and down her spine.

“Who on god’s green earth are you?” she replied;remaining firm but you could hear the terror in her voice, tears started rolling down and started staining that precious pale coat even more..

The man in red just shrugged “Well, I go by many names, but if you must know, it’s Yomiel.”

Yomiel..just hearing that name sounded evil (ironic, since it’s the name of an angel). A second bang was heard, this time causing Brooke to crash into the chair with enough force to knock them both over.

Blood was pooling around her head, her fingers intertwined with Cabanela’s, and tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry Cabs, I did all I could” she wanted to say, but her vision and voice was already fading. If he was still here, would he be proud, maybe he would reprimand her for her reckless situation skills, but he would be proud nonetheless.

At least that’s What Brooke thought.

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[and the sequel!!]

Come on girl

[yes the title is a yung bae song,,thank my friend :)]

“Nice Try, Inspector Cabanela.”

“But you could never stop me!”

“See ya sucker.”

Just as the man in red went to open the door, he turned and muttered “Oh! i guess the lady gets a send off too, see you..Never.” It was most definitely a backhand comment, you could almost feel the snarkiness ooze from his voice.

Yomiel lightly tapped Brooke’s body with his white shoe, moving her body ever so slightly, and making sure not to step on the fresh blood. And just like that, he was gone, not in a rush or hurry- just like this was an everyday task for him.

……..

Silence.

Is this what it felt like to die?

So many Questions left unanswered-and even more to ask.

It was oddly peaceful here-wherever here is. If she could she would rather stay like this; it was better than whatever she just went through anyway, those last 4 minutes of her life obviously weren’t the best.

Suddenly, Brooke heard voices,she couldn’t see anything-or anyone, just the void staring back at her.

“Hey, do you think you could wake up for me?” one voice asked. it had a very apparent new york accent, with no hint of familiarity. “Come onnn~, dear, we ain’t got all dayyy~!” another called. This one definitely struck a chord, the slight country accent, the elongating of vowels, and dripping bisexuality-er flamboyancy.

The blue flame in front of Sissel and Cabanela started to glow a bit brighter, contrasting the intense reds of the ghost world,a swirly void that seems to both go nowhere and forever. Cabanela smirked, turning to Sissel “You think she recognized me?” he chuckled.

“Think so, do you know her by chance?” he replied, tilting his head a bit.

At this point Brooke was elated by hearing her friend's voice, she wanted to reply, but it felt like her mouth was stuffed with cotton, and her “movements” were sluggish and minimal.

“OF COURSE HE KNOWS ME!!” a mature yet chirpy voice shouted, the blue flame in front of the two shook and transformed, taking the form of a tall plump woman. Her blonde hair was styled in a bob, a streak of brown in her bang, a dark aviator jacket and tan sweater, but most importantly, her eyes (one being blue and the other green) were filled with hope, hope from the very existence of seeing Cabanela.

Even though she wasn’t that far, she started to run towards him, embracing him in a big ol hug that spun him around, with both of them now sharing a hearty laugh or two.

“Now’s not the time to be goofing around hun,Buuuuut~ it’s nice to see you haven’t lost your spark.” he said, a bit of professionalism in his voice. Brooke nodded her head, placing her equally tall friend back on his feet “And I see you haven’t lost your…” her voice trailed off as she got a good look at Cabs’ new friend, his blonde hair was styled in a spiky updo (very banana-eske), his suit was a royal red and under it a dark grey shirt, and his shoes a bright white. Her eyes began to widen as she took a step back, her heart once again beating in her ears- was this all an illusion, was she in hell this entire time? Was the man she embraced real?.

Sissel reached out to comfort the woman,but she slapped it away, Her fear boiling over into steaming rage. Brooke’s hands started moving slowly on their own towards his spindly neck, shaking within every 'second'; she wanted revenge.

He wasn't going to stand around for an inevitable strangling, so he clasped her hands,as an attempt at calming the storm.

"Listen, I don't know who you are. But I know I'm not the man you're after." Sissel stated, "I just share his face, I suppose." Brooke could see her reflection in those dark sunglasses, she just knew they were hiding something. “How do I know you’re not trying to kill me..again” she questioned.

“Well, for starters, you’re already dead. So the chance of dying ‘again’ here is highly unlikely.”

“Sigh..alright, but how do i know you’re not..you know?” she felt like she understood a bit more, that this man wasn’t a threat, but she kept a close eye on him. Cabanela put a hand on her shoulder, nodding “Just trust the man babyyy~!, you have nooothing to fear!”, it was the most he could do in a situation like this anyway, since all 3 of them are dead and all. Sissel then lets go of one of her hands, the other loosely gripping her own.

“Well,now that that’s settled, shall i go back 4 minutes, before your death?” it was a rhetorical question, since regardless he was going to bring these two back- since it was his main goal to find out who he was and why he was killed.

Brooke felt like she didn’t understand whatever was going on, but if it meant for her and her lovely friend to come back to life, it’d be better to go along with it now and ask questions later. She then took Cabanela’s hand and nodded at him reassuringly, a smile forming on her lips.

“Sure, it’s better than staying here in this realm anyway!” she chuckled.

#oc fanfiction #fanfiction #storytime #Brooke(OC)#ghost trick phantom detective #Ghost Trick #Inspector Cabanela(Ghost trick)#cherryflavoredart #Yomiel(Ghost trick)#long post

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driverwaltz · 5 years ago

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Precipitate

Manager!Kylo Ren x Singer!Reader

Summary: Taking up late night gigs downtown at the Starlight Lounge was always just a way to earn some extra cash. Most days you’d bartend or bus tables, but on some special days your boss, Michael, would let you act as the live music feature of the night. It was one of those nights when you met him. The dark brooding man in the corner of the dimly lit bar caught your eye and promised opportunity, but nothing could have hinted towards what he had planned for the future.

Rating: Mature. This part is tame though.

Warnings: Unfair power dynamics, age gap, eventual smut, dub-con, drug use, slow burn

Words Count: 1.7K (Ik I went overboard)

Notes: This is my first ever fanfic so pls be nice 🥺. I took the inspiration for this from a couple of songs by the band Interpol and might make a playlist to go along with each chapter. If you guys have any suggestions or constructive criticism on my writing it’d be much appreciated (and needed lol). Also, this moves REALLY slowly in the beginning, but I promise I’ll start to pick up the pace.

Part 1: Meeting place

It broke again.

The only thing that alerted me this time was Michael's voice, booming from the back end of the bar from the kitchen to where I stood near the glassware.

"The third fuckin' time this month that I gotta replace the damn martini glasses 'cause of that hunk-of-shit washer!"

It's an easy fix, he could just replace that "hunk-of-shit" once, and that way he could spare us $65 every time a set of glasses break. It would also save the poor man on the end of the line every time he calls the distributor, demanding a new dozen and a discount. I could remind him this was an option again, but I know better. No matter what I say, I know his pride will go against any sense of better judgment. So, I stay quiet. Let him go on his little tirade while I do what he pays me to do: Act sweet to an array of old drunkards who plop themselves down on the same barstools every Saturday night. After they all get comfy, I make a point to ask about their wives and how their bitch of a boss made them work overtime. At the same time, I whip up concoctions of tequila, salt, and lime for them to hurriedly gulp down and offer me gratitude. However, it's only ever through words, never an extra 15% on the tab.

Kindness in strangers. That's what I was taught. Mama kept a stack of old scripts in a wicker basket near her nightstand, and I remember rummaging through them on static summer days when it was too hot to go outside. Mama never believed in failures. She'd always tell me, "you're constantly learning and improving. Never failing, just falling — stagnant." I like to believe that's true, but I was also raised to be honest. And, In all honesty, I can't deny that Mama was a failure. She moved out to California from Georgia without telling a soul the night she turned 17. She had nothing but her new hand-me-down car, some spare cash she got from waitressing, and a small suitcase full of clothes and essentials. Her dream was to become a performer, an actress, a starlet of her generation. She tried. I know she did, but things don't work out for a reason. So, I too, was born and raised in Georgia. However, unlike how Grandman brought up Mama, I was raised off stories of Mama's journey to Tinsel Town and the people she met rather than Grimms' Fairytales. I learned how to fall asleep to softly hummed show tunes rather than lullabies. Mama never wanted to buy new children's books; instead, she would recite one of her scripts to me. When I got a bit older, I fell in love with The Glass Menagerie by Tennessee Williams, and that's when Mama told me: "Always depend on the kindness of strangers."

I blame Mama. I believe personality is a sort of genetic trait, and I definitely got all of that from Mama. I can never say no to Michael. Not because he scares me or that I'm in full agreeance with him all the time, but whenever the word threatens to leave me lips, it chokes me. Then, I swallow it back down and resume whatever I was doing. No is never an option. It was never an option in the schoolyard or in the house, and especially not during my music classes. Mama wanted me to continue whatever legacy she had crafted for herself, and much to her disappointment, I was not much of a talker, but I was a hummer. So, Mama forced me to turn my quiet hums into fully supported singing. That was the start of it all. I took up guitar after that, and stole my dad's old records and tried to replicate what I would hear. I guess that's how I started writing music, as for what I did with that music...

"(y/n), Lucy said she comin' to take o'er you're shift in a few. If you want, you can clock out for tonight," Michael grumbled from the back in a shout.

"It's only midnight. I've only been working for about four hours, and I need the money this month, so I'm okay working for a little bit more. I can help you out in the back if you'd like," I responded. I really did need the money though, Martin's been on my ass about my lease.

Michael peered at me through the kitchen doorframe for a second, "You got your guitar in your car?"

"Yeah."

"You up to play a few songs tonight? We've got a bit more business tonight."

I felt the muscles in my face pull up and tighten against my will. I hate to admit that sometimes Michael can make me smile, and he was right. I turned to the entrance and slowly, one-by-one, people started coming in and settling down.

"Yes, sir! I'll bring it out." I exclaimed while grabbing my keys from behind the counter and making my way out to my car parked at the back.

After retrieving my case from the trunk, I quickly checked my reflection on the left-hand mirror and smoothed out my hair and touched up my lipstick. I saw a man pass by through the corner and make his way into the bar. I better make tips tonight doing this.

I waltzed back into the bar and headed for the small stage in the front. It's not really a stage more than it's a glorified black stool, but I like to think it's charming and adds character. You know, mask up the patheticness of it all. I plugged in my Fender to the worn-out amps and strummed to make sure it was in tune. There were a lot of people tonight. Well, a lot more than usual, at least. Quickly, I scanned the room for comforting faces to focus on and calm my nerves. Most of our customers were gruff men, so this trick usually didn't work, but tonight was different. In the corner by a little bust made by a local artist sat a man with thick black hair. He was by no means soft. Much like the patrons, he harbored a hard look on his face, but he struck me differently. It was intense and cold. Georgia's a hot place, so I didn't mind his gaze. It was cooling and made me freeze over.

I don't know why, but I want to impress him. Plus, looking down, I saw he was wearing a polished pair of dress shoes, so I assume he's got some money on him, maybe he'll spare me a tip. I'll just play a cover. Can't go wrong with a cover.

My fingers dragged across the guitar strings and drew out the alternating chords of D7 and Am in a back and forth pattern.

"It was the third of June, another sleepy, dusty Delta day... Mama said she got some news this mornin' from Choctaw Ridge... She said Billie Joe McAllister jumped off the Tallahatchie Bridge..."

Bobbie Gentry was one of dad's favorites. I know the country wasn't a popular choice for many people, but this is the South, and Ode to Billie Joe is always a classic, and I think the dreariness of the song perfectly compliments the tone of the bar.

I played a set and earned a couple of measly tips from it. Nothing I could complain about, I guess. It was nearly 1 am, and I was getting tired. Overtime is only worth so much, so I decided it was best to go back home. I packed up my guitar and walked to the bar counter to ask Lucy to clock for me, but before I could even rest my case against the counter, I felt a man slide into the seat next to me.

"You've gotta nice voice," he drawled out while staring at the wall in front of him.

"Thank you. I perform here almost every week."

"Is that right?"

"Yeah..." I couldn't really think of how I could continue this conversation. And, trust me, I really want to. The man was wearing a black button-up shirt, grey trousers, and that impressive pair of dress shoes. His hair was long and gelled back, and his profile was exquisite. He looked strong, and his voice was deep and rich like marmalade.

"You could work on that guitar a little bit," he deadpanned as he took a swig of whiskey. I looked at him even more intensely then and scoffed.

"Really? Can you do better?"

"I never said that. I just think, with a voice like that, the guitar should match up," he said with a playful glint in his voice as he finally turned his head towards me.

Now, I really don't know how to continue this conversation.

"Alright, you caught me. I'm not that great at the guitar, but hey, I'm a bar singer, not Paul McCartney, or something," I laughed out. He smiled, and then I felt all the blood in my body rush to my cheeks, it's a miracle I didn't fall flat on my face.

"I guess I was just expecting more," he said.

"Well, I didn't promise you anything, did I?"

He looked like he was in his late 20s, probably.

"No. No, you didn't. But, maybe you could start... for next time."

"That depends. Are you gonna give me a tip."

"Yes. When I think you deserve it," he said as his face fell flat and his voice authoritative in an odd way.

"Well, I'll probably be here next Saturday so you can decide then."

"Will do," he smirked.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"Kylo," he replied in a gentle voice as he once again held his glass of whiskey up. He then raised his eyebrow, and I knew he wanted an answer.

"(y/n)."

He gulped down his whiskey, turned to me, and smiled. I wanted to say something more, I had to say something, but he stopped me before I could by getting up and walking towards the door.

"I gotta be somewhere tomorrow, doll. I'm expecting a show on Saturday," he exclaimed as he stepped out the bar.

"Don't worry... I can put on a show."

He grinned one final time before escaping out of the bar, leaving me alone with his empty cup of whiskey and a smile that doesn't leave my face the entire night.

#reader insert #kylo ren #kylo ren x reader #modern au #manager!kylo x singer!reader #star wars #my writing #kylo ren fanfiction #kylo ren smut #kylo ren x you #kylo ren/reader #kylo ren/you #supreme leader kylo ren #kylo ren imagine #chaptered fic #adam driver #adan driver x reader #adam driver x you

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cpd5021 · 4 years ago

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Crossing Lines - Chapter Two

Thank you to everyone on the positive feedback for this new story line, I look forward to sharing the rest of it with you! Also, a special thanks to the Let’s Talk About Upstead group chat for giving me ideas, inspiration, and always tolerating my random questions.

Note: Also, I thought I should mention, the only episode I have seen of FBI is Hailey’s so I’m just kind of winging it on writing OA and his story line...

It was Friday. I was officially done with my first week here in New York. Under different circumstances, this little stint might not have been so bad. I might have even found the change of pace momentarily enjoyable. But this wasn’t a vacation, this was a punishment and that much was painfully obvious every day that passed. Although, to be fair, maybe that was just my interpretation because the entire unit here had been nothing but welcoming and helped me to settle in quickly. My partner, OA, was a stark contrast to Jay. Much of New York was a stark contrast to what I was used to. Here, at least in the task force, it was more pant suits and policies over the knitty gritty police work I was used to back home. Home, Chicago....every single time it popped into my head I found myself swallowing down the now all too familiar burn in my throat. The first two days here had been a whirlwind of activity, we caught a case immediately and I was thankful for the distraction. I was met with late nights and early mornings as we worked to wrap up the case. One thing that was nice was the nearly unlimited resources the FBI had to gain information on their targets, it sped up the process greatly. Unfortunately, it made it a little too quick and my source of distraction was quickly resolved. My third day had been painfully slow. OA had walked me through filling out the necessary paperwork after we wrapped up the case and that had taken me all of two hours in the morning, leaving the rest of the afternoon to drag on. OA, bless him, had tried to break the lull by lingering by my borrowed desk, making a valid attempt at small talk. But my less than enthusiastic participation had finally led him to give up. He left me to my own devices yesterday, save for the necessary communication needed to aid in our next task, helping a local department with a small sex trafficking ring located in the Bronx. Today, he had gotten more pushy and quite frankly, called me out on my bullshit. I felt a small hint of a smirk tug at my mouth as I recalled this morning's events.

“Here is a coffee, cream and sugar on the side because I’m not sure how you take it. Yet. Note the yet, because I fully intend on learning how you take your coffee as that’s what good partners do. I take mine with two creams, jot that down.”

My new partner finished his speech, nodding to the pad of paper on my desk before handing me the second cup of coffee. I looked up at him, eyebrows slightly raised, trying to figure out if this was his form of teasing or if he was just a pompous jerk. The smile in his eyes told me my first impression was correct. I returned his smile and nodded my thanks as I took the coffee from him. He sipped his, glancing at me from the corner of his eyes and looking satisfied with himself that I had at least taken the coffee. We headed to roll call then, another slightly unfamiliar habit of the task force. We didn’t do morning meetings in Intelligence unless there was something to, well, meet over. Although the hustle and bustle of New York kept them plenty busy and they always had something to go over. After roll call, we were sent down to the district courthouse to subpoena some records for a case we had picked up.

“Don’t you guys have people for this?”

I tried to break the silence that had lingered over us on our way to the courthouse. I knew I had been harsh the first few days as I was trying to come to terms with everything, but I also realized that it wasn’t in any way his fault I was here.

“And here I thought cops did most of the leg work. You’re telling me you have people for this?”

He challenged, glancing over at me with a smirk on his face. I returned his look, happy to have somewhat broken the tension between us.

“No, but you’re the FBI. Aren’t you supposed to have someone for everything?”

He laughed wholeheartedly then, a sound I hadn’t yet heard. It was loud, booming out of his large build, but it was also slightly contagious and I found myself chuckling along beside him.

“As a matter of fact, we do have people for this. But I asked if we could do it, get out of the office for a bit to give you a breather. It seems like it's been a rough week for you.”

His straightforwardness threw me off a bit as it was usually me being the one to be so blunt. I tilted my head a little as I looked out the window, considering how to proceed with the conversation. Straightforward as I may be, tiptoeing around my own thoughts and feelings was something I was a little too good at.

“It was a bit of a surprise coming here to be honest with you.”

I looked over at him, trying to get a read, but he was still too new to me to be confident in my assessment. He nodded in understanding and I found myself wondering what this task force had been told about me beforehand.

“So you didn’t sign up for this detail?”

OA asked after a minute, coming to the conclusion I wasn’t going to elaborate further without being pushed.

“No. My boss just picked me to come.”

It wasn’t a total lie, he had been the one to pick me. I was just leaving out a few crucial details.

“What did you do?”

His question had my defenses rising up at a rapid pace, his words unknowingly echoing what Jay had said to me the night before I left. The thought had me swallowing hard as once again my throat burned. I felt a pang of pain at the thought of Jay, the way he had ended our conversation, how he had just walked away from me without so much as a second look. I had considered reaching out to him, my first night here all I wanted to do was meet him for a beer and do ‘our thing’ but that wasn’t an option as I was hundreds of miles away. To be honest, I’m not sure that will ever be an option again. I snapped out of it, realizing I had been lost in thought and he was waiting for me to reply.

“What makes you think I did anything?”

I shot him a look, trying to keep myself composed. I knew he didn’t mean any harm with his question, he seemed like the type who just liked to know about his partner, what made them tick, and currently, that was me.

“In my experience, one doesn’t get sent out of an elite unit without asking...without there being a cause. Unless your sergeant was trying to show off by sending his best detective. But from what I know about Hank Voight, he doesn’t seem like one to boast.”

He continued to throw me off each time he spoke and before I could stop myself I was rambling off my response.

“What do you know about Voight? Or why do you know about Voight? And I’m definitely not the best in the unit...”

I tacked on the end, feeling suddenly self conscious at his assumption. I felt another pang in my chest as I considered who I would list as the best in the unit.

“I do my homework. When they told me I was getting a partner from Chicago, I wanted to see what I was up against. And you didn’t answer my first question...what did you do that got you sent here?”

Again with the straightforwardness. I was rarely on the receiving end of it and it was making me up my game.

“He just thought it would be a good experience for me.”

I told the half truth again. Those hadn’t been Voight’s exact words, but I knew the intention was there.

“Okay then, I’ll just have to guess. Did you blow a UC operation? Lose a stash of drugs? Oh, forbidden office romance gone wrong?”

His tone was teasing but his last option struck a nerve within me. I stared out the window as he continued to drive, taking in the towering structures surrounding us.

“I’m very good at UC work, too organized to lose drugs, and nothing good comes from workplace romances so I avoid those at all costs.”

I glanced over to him and saw that this time my words had struck a chord in him, his grip on the steering wheel tightened and he nodded before we both fell into another silence. We returned to the office, dropping off the records we had picked up and returning to our respective desks. I pulled out my phone, letting out a sigh when I saw that it was once again empty from any messages or missed calls. I opened up my texting app, scrolling down to Jay’s feed and let my thumb hover over his name, wondering if I should reach out. I desperately wanted to talk to him, even if it was just some small talk. I wanted to know that Jay, my partner, my best friend, would be there when I got back and that I hadn’t inadvertently destroyed our relationship. Before I could muster up the courage to type out a message, OA was walking past my desk informing me we needed to roll on something. We spent the rest of the day working the case before handing it off to another unit within the force.

Now, I sat in my hotel room, having freshly showered and changed into some baggy sweats. I was laying on the bed, propped up against my headboard and debating what to order for dinner when my phone buzzed from it’s spot on the nightstand. I snatched it up and felt my pulse increase when I saw who the text was from.

“How’s New York?”

I couldn’t get a read on Jay’s tone from his three word question, it was probably pointless to try through text anyways, but at least he had text. I scrambled to come up with a reply, my mind drawing a blank as all I could picture was our last meeting before I left.

“It’s...not bad. I guess. Busy?”

I let out a breath, waiting for his reply. I just wanted to hear his voice.

“Not really.”

Came his quick reply. I took a deep breath before hitting the call button on my phone and hoping this wasn’t an awful idea.

“Yo.”

My heart stopped for a second when I heard his voice float through the phone, despite his short greeting.

“Hey Jay...”

I all but whispered into the phone, my throat suddenly burning more than ever. I wished I was back home and could be standing in front of him, but for now this would have to do.

“How are you?”

I let out an emotionless chuckle at his question, unsure if he was just making small talk or if he wanted a deeper answer. I decided to play it lightly at first, test the waters.

“Okay. You?”

I returned his question, hating the way my voice broke slightly with pent up emotion.

“Okay.”

His tone was cool, not quite standoffish, but certainly not the warm calm one I was used to.

“That’s good.”

I could feel my heart breaking with each exchange of this conversation. He had changed, or rather his response to me had changed. Our close knit bond, the thing that works between us, felt more distant than ever.

“Yep. Did you need something Hailey?”

His coldness shattered me and I found myself blinking back tears.

“No...I’ll let you go. Sorry.” I breathed out my response, knowing my voice would give me away if I spoke any louder. Before he could reply I hung up the phone, tossing it onto the bed beside me as the tears began to flow freely down my face. I decided on skipping dinner and reached to shut the lamp off beside me, blinking into the darkness as I fought back the waves of emotion threatening to overcome me.

I spent all of Saturday and most of Sunday in bed. I ignored the knocks from housekeeping and my only venture out was to raid the vending machine down the hall. I had been trying to tell myself to stay positive the first week, just keep my head down, stay within the lines, and get through this as quickly as possible. Now, as my alarm sounded beside me, I had lost all motivation to do much of anything. I forced myself out of bed, dragging myself into the bathroom to get ready for the day, only picking up my pace when I noticed that I was on the verge of being late. I walked into the office, forcing myself to return the smiles sent my way but knowing the smile never reached my eyes. I was once again numb and I was fully content with that fact. I was done with the anger and the pain that life had sent my way so I found the numbness a gentle relief from all of it. I had turned myself on autopilot, giving the appropriate responses when needed, contributing to conversations when it was unavoidable and just going about my tasks, staying between the lines as if my life depended on it. In a way, it kind of did. On the other hand, I wasn’t sure I had much of a life to return to once I was done.

Halfway through my second week, I got a text from Voight, asking me to call him when I was available. I delayed as much as possible, but once my day at work was done I found myself once again locked away in my hotel room with no good excuse to avoid him any longer. With a sigh, I dialed his number, my heart stuttering with each ring.

“Upton.”

His gravelly voice saying my name brought a shiver to my skin as our last conversation flashed into my mind.

“Sarge..” I replied quietly, fighting to control my voice.

“How are things?”

The question tripped me up a little bit, he hadn’t said work or New York even, but things, which lead me to believe he was asking about more than my stint here.

“Work is good. Lines are clear.”

I knew my added statement was probably pushing it, but I had found a newfound boldness knowing he was miles away. I was met with momentary silence and I felt my bravery falter slightly as I awaited his reply.

“Mmm, good to hear.”

His short reply left me unable to get a read on him. I decided to wait for him to continue the conversation, letting the silence linger between us.

“I talked to your boss there, heard you’re doing very well with everything. They were a little concerned though, mentioned how you seemed to be functioning on autopilot.”

His words caused me to stiffen, it was true that I had been running on autopilot but I didn’t think it had been that noticeable, given that I was basically a stranger to these people. I didn’t know how to respond to him, I knew he wouldn’t buy it if I tried to lie or blow it off. But I didn’t want to open up to him either, the wounds from our last conversation still fresh.

“I’m fine sir.”

I tried my best to keep my tone even and calm, hoping that by some miracle he would accept my reply without question.

“Hailey, I sent you there to get your head on straight. But I still want the same Upton back when you return, the Upton that could set all of us straight, the one who could keep her sides clear. The Upton that I wanted in my unit the first time I met you. Just keep that in mind kid..”

I couldn’t speak, I knew my voice would break if I tried. I blinked away the tears that had formed, a few escaping down my cheeks. Another silence fell between us as I struggled to compose myself.

“I’m gonna let you go now, good night Hailey.”

I heard the click of his end disconnecting and set my phone on the nightstand beside me. I let out a deep breath, wiping at my face and rubbing the wetness out of my eyes. After I had somewhat pulled myself back together, I ordered myself some dinner and then showered. Climbing back into bed, I pulled the covers close and willed sleep to come. Promising myself that tomorrow would be a better day.

My alarm went off and for the first time in a few days, I jumped out of bed on time and went right into the bathroom to get ready for my day. On my way into work, I stopped by the coffee shop I knew OA got his coffee from in the morning, placing my order and then heading into the office. I made my way to his desk, happy that he didn’t yet have a cup and happily handed the second cup over to him. My gesture was met with a confused smile as he took the drink.

“I take mine black, for the record.”

I smiled at him, hoping I could clear the air between us. This was someone I barely knew and I was sure I hadn’t made the best impression so far. My goal for today was to change that.

“I’ll jot that down.”

He sipped at his coffee, nodding in satisfaction that I had gotten his order correct. I made my way over to my desk, setting my things down before we headed to roll call. It started like any other day, until of course, it wasn’t. We ended up with a case on a major drug lord, a higher up in the Cartel that had managed to escape arrest time and time again. They had been following him for a while, tracking his movements every time he was in New York, but they hadn’t managed to get him cornered yet. This particular time was different though, as this batch of heroin he was dolling out proved to be laced with something that had its users dropping like flies. We spent all day chasing ghosts, always two steps behind him and I knew it was going to be a long night. With all the resources the FBI had to offer, we managed to set up an undercover op and have it fully ready to execute in a matter of hours. Now, under the cover of the New York night sky, we rolled out to put our plan into action. We had two officers, posed as buyers and a meet set up with our suspect. Our job was going to be to come in for the arrest once the exchange was made. Surprisingly, everything fell into place exactly as we had planned. Our buy went through and we took him down, even managing to get a few bricks off one of his runners while we were there. It felt good to have a success, one secured by the books, and I found myself back in the office, helping OA log away the drugs we had seized. Our conversation flowed easily, both of us riding the high of our win. The good mood was short lived when OA received a phone call, the caller relaying some information that had him instantly pacing in anger. I waited in silence for him to end the call, sending him a questioning look when he hung up.

“He’s walking. Somehow, we don’t have enough to charge him.”

I inhaled sharply as his words settled in. It had seemed like an open and closed case, we had played everything right and had managed to take him down without problem.

“How?”

I asked, my heart sinking with the news. My mind shifted back to the case with Gael, how it was eerily similar to this one. Major drug lord manages to escape the law once again. I swallowed hard at the thought and focused on OA’s pacing.

“Because we didn’t bust him with the drugs, he was there but they weren’t in his car. They don’t think they can prove it’s his product.”

His pacing paused as he leaned against the table, clearly fuming with anger over the whole situation. I felt my own temper flare, knowing that was a bs excuse and it should have been enough to charge him, there was no doubt the product was his.

“That’s bullshit.”

I voiced my irritation and he nodded in agreement.

“I needed this win.”

His voice was low and the anger had shifted to disappointment.

“I can understand that. Why don’t you head out, I can finish this up.”

He looked up at me, debating if I was bluffing but nodded when he saw my confidant gaze. He let out a sigh, moving to gather his things from his desk and then left for the night without saying another word. Now I was alone in the office, surrounded by bricks of drugs that had yet to be accounted for, with the knowledge that another criminal was going to walk. I glanced over to my computer where I knew there was a file containing all of the information on this guys known addresses and vehicles. A thought entered my mind, one I had no business thinking. One almost mirroring the events that had led me to New York in the first place. I looked around the empty office, before returning my stare to the stack of drugs before me. With a sigh, I scooted my chair over to be in front of my computer and jiggled the mouse to power it on. As my screen lit up, illuminating the space around me, I easily located the file on my computer and clicked it open. I let out another breath I didn’t realize I was holding as I pulled up the information I was looking for, quickly reaching for my notepad and jotting a few things down. I closed out of the file and shut my computer down. I grabbed the bag that we had transported the drugs in, loading them into the bag and zipping it closed, figuring I would drop them off on my way out. As I made my way out of the office, drugs in hand, I felt my shoulders stiffening with the weight of what I was doing. And suddenly the lines were blurring again.

#one chicago #chicago pd fanfiction #halstead and upton #jay halstead #hailey upton #halstead #jay x hailey #upstead #upton

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sinceileftyoublog · 4 years ago

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Nashville Ambient Ensemble Interview: A Little Help From My Friends

BY JORDAN MAINZER

“I feel like Nashville his my home,” Michael Hix said. The experimental musician, who now leads the Nashville Ambient Ensemble, is fully immersed in the ambient country scene that’s logically emerged from the fingerpicked guitar renaissance of the early 2010s. But for him, it took coming back to Tennessee to get there.

Hix grew up in Southeast Tennessee in a rural town, the closest city Chattanooga, before going to college in Nashville and staying there for a few years after. Then, like many before him, he moved to New York, exploring the various experimental music scenes thriving in the nation’s biggest city. After he and his wife had a child, they realized they needed more space and moved back to Nashville two years ago. “It’s been great to be back,” Hix said. “The avant garde and experimental/music scene--there’s always been a space for that here, but I really noticed when I moved back two years ago, it’s really grown an amazing amount. There are a lot of new people in the scene I didn’t know previously.”

Many of those new people would end up playing with Hix in Nashville Ambient Ensemble and on their debut album Cerulean, released last month via Centripetal Force. The group--Hix on synth and keys, venerable pedal steel player Luke Schneider, pianist Kim Rueger, baritone electric guitarist Jack Silverman, singer Deli Paloma-Sisk, guitar synth player Cynthia Cárdenas, and electric guitarist Timon Kaple--came together slowly as Hix would meet the various members at shows and parties. (He knew only Kaple and Schneider before moving back to Nashville.) Once he had a group and music that embraced improvisation more heavily than any of his solo material--he calls each song “a loose constant theme and a cycle of solos”--the band rehearsed a couple times and recorded over two sessions. Their chemistry is palpable, on the arpeggiated “Ingia”, the guitar-forward title track, and swaying “Coda”. And as it turns out, having a kid also influenced Hix’s ability to let go. “Part of this project was me realizing as a parent that I didn’t have the time anymore to sweat over my solo compositions where I’d have things ornately composed down to the smallest detail,” he said. “If I called on a little help with my friends and got an ensemble environment together and relied on improvisation, I could make more music with less content.”

Speaking with Hix earlier this year over the phone, I got the sense that not just collaboration, but taking in other types of art directly seep into his creative output just as much as anything. Hix is as likely to cite ambient legend William Basinski and director Andrei Tarkovsky as formative influences as he is instrumental or experimental country music; he trades music, book, and film recommendations with passion and curiosity. With an increasingly open approach to music making, you realize how Hix and Nashville Ambient Ensemble both lead and transcend the ambient country scene highlighted by artists like Schneider and Chuck Johnson. Laying the groundwork but providing space for expression, the Nashville Ambient Ensemble could switch out members and instruments and still retain the exploratory spirit of the group and the scene.

Below, read my conversation with Hix about moving back to Nashville, starting the Ensemble, making Cerulean, and what the future holds.

Since I Left You: When you lived in New York, did you feel isolated from the Nashville scene?

Michael Hix: Yeah, I was kind of isolated from it. In fact, when I moved to New York, I honestly didn’t see myself ever moving back to Nashville. I was planning on just staying in New York. I wasn’t really keeping up with what was going on here. I was just totally invested in the kind of music I was doing in New York. I was really surprised when I came back here that there were so many new artists doing really great work, and a pretty good, sizable experimental music community. That’s been really cool to see. I’ve been able to meet a lot of new people.

I expected that I would get back in the groove in my old circle, but I’ve met so many new people.

SILY: Of the folks in the Nashville Ambient Ensemble, how many were in your old circle, and how many were new?

MH: The only person I really knew was Timon Kaple. We went to college together, and he was in my larger circle of friends. The only other person I knew was Luke Schneider. He was just an acquaintance of mine, and we had never hung out but ran into each other when I moved back. At the time, he was starting to record his own solo, ambient, new age kind of music. We just hit it off and started to exchange music. Those two guys were the only ones I knew, and the others I met when I moved back to Nashville.

SILY: When was this group formed, and when was this music written and recorded?

MH: This took off in a crazy way. I feel like I didn’t really have to think about it very much. It happened very organically and quickly. One of the things I was struck by when I moved back to Nashville was how unique it was in how music is made here, in a really collective manner. Even if you’re not getting into a project with someone, they want to jam with you. I played one show in January 2019, and just at that first show, I had 3 or 4 people ask me if I wanted to jam or if I collaborated. That’s really representative of Nashville. That first show that I played, Timon came up to me--we hadn’t made music before--and asked to get together some time. It’s the same night I met Jack Silverman. I also met Deli Paloma-Sisk that night. She played that show as well. After that, I got together with Timon once in 2019, and I had a couple more people in that period ask me if I made music, so I thought I’d just make a supergroup.

I had been in a similar group ensemble thing before I left Nashville, back in 2011. I was really wanting to do that again. At a certain point, I just started asking people if they were interested in an ambient ensemble. I asked Jack if he wanted to be involved, Luke, he was on board. Deli joined. The other two, Kim and Cynthia, I met Cynthia at a party one night and Deli was telling her about the project, and Cynthia asked to be in the group, and I was like, “Yeah, sure!” She has this MIDI guitar synthesizer set up. That’s what she plays on the album--really amazing. Kim Rueger, who goes by the moniker Belly Full Of Stars, I was speaking to her at a show one night asking her if she knew any pianists, and she was like, “I play piano.” It came together super organically. We had two rehearsals January 2020. These people are all really talented. We booked two days at the Battle Tapes studio in Nashville and recorded everything live in the studio in two sessions. It was really quick.

SILY: That’s a lot of lead up to a short recording process!

MH: Organizing it together took some time, but once we got everyone on board, it was really quick. I sent around some demos, we rehearsed twice, and then we recorded the album.

SILY: The opening track, “Breve”, is effective because you can hear all the elements going on, and it’s a unique hybrid of styles, the electronics with the country western instrumentals. Why did you lead off with this track, and what’s the story behind it?

MH: The pieces came together really quickly. I wrote every piece except for “Cerulean”, which was written by Jack Silverman. All the tracks I wrote came together really quickly, and it just so happened I had two that were a lot shorter than the other three, and I had the idea of bookending the album with these short tracks that serve as a prologue and an epilogue, which is why I placed “Breve” first. Knowing it was gonna be the first track and an introduction, I wanted to showcase all of the sounds in a very concise, clear way. That was kind of my direction with the track.

SILY: It’s interesting the title track is the only one not written by you!

MH: [laughs] Right.

SILY: Why did you name the album after that track?

MH: I was speaking to my wife about this, and I had a couple other ideas for album titles. She said, “Read me the names of your tracks.” We both thought that Cerulean was a really great title that was evocative but not heavy. You didn’t really have to read into it very much. It provided a tone for the album. This project was honestly about trying to get myself out of the way. I really wanted the other players involved to really shine on the album. I really liked the idea of using someone else’s [song] for the album title.

SILY: The track “Inga” seems to me to be exemplary of the mix between structure and improvisation that’s on the record. Can you talk about balancing those two aspects of the music?

MH: “Inga” and “Conversion” are probably the two examples where we achieved what we were aiming towards the most. In “Inga”, I definitely provided, to use a metaphor, the structure of the house, but everyone else made it a home. Something that had beauty in it. All of the songs, we had a very loose structure, some charts with the chord changes, but the sheet music for the songs would be a list that was just the order of the solos. I think the reason “Inga” works so well along with "Conversion” is that everyone has a solo in that song. You have the extended experience of the piece cycling through solos for each of the soloists.

The way we recorded that one, we had a loose structure of these chord changes and some from my modular synth, but the primary structure of it was the order of the solos. In the studio when we were recording, I had a microphone and would just call out whose solo was coming up next.

SILY: Why did you release “Conversion” as the first single?

MH: I thought about “Inga” for the first track, but personally, “Conversion” is generally the strongest track on the album. At the same time, I think it’s the most representative of what I wanted to achieve with the project and the concept.

SILY: What’s the inspiration behind the cover art?

MH: The cover art is a painting by Wendy Walker Silverman, who is a really great Nashville artist who is also the wife of Jack Silverman, the guitarist in the band. The cover features her painting. It’s been kind of altered by the person who designed the album art [Alethea Hall], but that is her painting there.

SILY: Are there loose plans to perform any of these songs in a live stream or socially distant show?

MH: We would definitely like to play some shows. Due to the nature of the project and the fact that every person involved has their own music projects and other things going on, it would be hard for us, once touring is a thing that happens, to go on tour. But we would like to play an album release show in Nashville once that makes sense to do so. We’ll probably wait till we can have a good amount of people attend in terms of COVID restrictions. We’ll see what happens after that and what kind of opportunities arrive for performances.

SILY: What else is next for the Ensemble?

MH: I’ll see what kind of level of interest people have in it, both listening and enjoying as well as other artists and musicians in the community here, whether anyone expresses interest in being involved. I’ve definitely already started to think about a round two and have some ideas of people I’d love to ask to be involved. I’d like to change things up a bit and get some other people and instruments involved. We’ll see: I’m not exactly sure. It was a ton of work organizing the whole thing, being a big group, and getting the recordings done. I mixed the album, so having a regular job, being a parent, and trying to carry through a project like that is a lot of work. I definitely want to do it again.

SILY: What have you been listening to, reading, and watching lately?

MH: I love the new William Basinski album Lamentations. I really loved the new compilation from Music From Memory, Virtual Dreams: Ambient Explorations In The House & Techno Age, 1993-1997. I just listened to a reissue from Aguirre Records from Morgan Fisher and Lol Coxhill, called Slow Music. It’s one of those albums that really didn’t get a lot of attention back then but could be considered an essential or cornerstone album for a genre of music. Morgan Fisher is a really great composer--he has a few great albums--but this is the best one I’ve heard of his. It takes some tape recordings of Lol Coxhill playing I think soprano saxophone, and he cuts the tape up and makes a composition out of the various recordings.

I watched the films of Bi Gan: Kaili Blues and Long Day’s Journey Into Night. Both are absolutely mind-blowing. I’m a big Andrei Tarkovsky fan, and he’s a big influence on me. Bi Gan definitely has some strong Tarkovsky vibes but definitely has his own language. Long Day’s Journey Into Night was in particular amazing.

SILY: Is there anything I didn’t ask about the record you want to say?

MH: One of the things I’m most satisfied about this album is I’m almost not on it. I didn’t anticipate it, but realized it when listening to the recordings. I’m always working on trying to remove my ego as much as possible from my music, which is hard when you’re making solo music. I think William Basinski achieves that in an amazing way, and I haven’t been that effective at it. But I think it happened in the Ensemble album. There’s my modular synth sound, and I play keys, but I didn’t do any solos on the album. It was really satisfying to know that though I organized the project and wrote the music, it was the other people who shined through.

The other thing I’m happy about is that it really does have a Nashville sound, in large part because of the pedal steel, but it’s there with the other players as well. To some extent, the music does give you a flavor of what Nashville is about and what’s unique about it. There are some really great artists doing some really progressive sounds.

Cerulean by Nashville Ambient Ensemble

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cinema-tv-etc · 4 years ago

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TV Show Review: The Queen’s Gambit

🎬 It’s More Than Just Chess

The Queen’s Gambit tells the story of Beth. A nine year-old orphan who is quiet, sullen, and by all appearances unremarkable. That is, until she plays her first game of chess. Her senses grow sharper, her thinking clearer, and for the first time in her life she feels herself fully in control. By the age of sixteen, she’s competing for the U.S. Open championship. But as Beth hones her skills on the professional circuit, the stakes get higher, her isolation grows more frightening, and the thought of escape becomes all the more tempting.

A Sneak Peek Into “The Queen’s Gambit”

At the age of nine, Beth Harmon is all alone. Her mother had just died in a car accident and she is now an orphan. It’s not like she had a very close relationship with her mother, it was the opposite actually. Ever since she was little, Beth has always been a quiet kid. No matter how much her mother yelled or screamed or panicked, Beth would always just calmly stare and said nothing.

Even on the day she was brought to the orphanage, she didn’t shed a tear. One would suppose, in a way, Beth has gotten used to being alone and maybe even prefer her own company to anyone else’s. In the orphanage, kids were given 2 pills every day. One red pill, and one green pill. The red pills were said to be vitamins, to keep the kids strong and healthy. The green pills, on the other hand, were called Xanzolam, which are usually prescribed for women with anxiety and insomnia. In the orphanage, it was given to the kids as tranquilizers to keep them calm and sedated.

She didn’t really care for the green pills until one day when she was in the basement where she stumbled onto a janitor called Mr. Shaibel playing chess all by himself. The sleek design of the board as well as all the pieces fascinated her, and she asked for him to teach her how to play. Upon hearing that, Mr. Shaibel’s reply to her was, “Girls don’t play chess.”

Beth was upset. She has never been this fascinated with something before, and yet now that her attention has been captured by the game of chess, Mr. Shaibel refused to teach her. Despite the refusal, however, Beth did not give up easily. She watched Mr. Shaibel’s gameplay, read books to grasp a deeper understanding of how chess works. And at night––this is where the green pill comes in handy––she would pop in a green pill and the chess pieces would start appearing on the ceiling as if they were magic.

And thus, she practiced in her head.

After a few nights of this and Beth’s persistence in wanting to learn chess, Mr. Shaibel eventually caved and decided to mentor her. To his surprise, Beth––for a girl who has never played chess ever before––held up quite well against himself. Mr. Shaibel was sure that she had never played this game before, but yet, she was able to play so well. So he asked her, “How did you know how to play chess?”

“I practiced, in my head.” Was Beth’s nonchalant reply.

This continued for a while, Beth would finish her school work and tests early, then she would go down to the basement to practice chess with Mr. Shaibel. It took her a while, but eventually, Mr. Shaibel who started off as her mentor wasn’t even able to beat her anymore. Mr. Shaibel surprised by her abilities, so much so that he invited a high school chess teacher to try to beat her. And even then, Beth effortlessly beat him without much thought.

As her obsession with chess grew, her dependence on the green pill did as well. Before when Beth would just take one green pill a day, now she would save up a few days worth of green pills and down them all at once. These days, she could no longer function without it. The green pills are the only way she was able to imagine the chessboard on the ceiling and practice in her head while everyone was asleep. Beth has become addicted to Xanzolam despite all the warnings that her friend gave her about the green pill.

And just when Beth was spearing through her young life getting better and better in chess, the state passes a law forbidding giving tranquilizers to children. Upon hearing that, Beth’s whole world comes crashing down.

What is she going to do now without those magical green pills?

3 Words to Describe This Show

BRILLIANT, GRIPPING, UNIQUE

Review

Ever since I subscribed to Netflix, I have watched so many more shows than I ever would otherwise. From the good ones to the mediocre ones and to the great ones. I mean, I can’t say that I’ve already watched all the shows there is on Netflix––because your girl doesn’t have the eye power for that––but I can say that I have binged a good handful of them and to be really, truly honest, The Queen’s Gambit is pretty up there when it comes to great shows.

Actually, I would even go as far as to say that The Queen’s Gambit might just be the best tv show that I’ve watched in 2020. From the cinematography to the actress and the aesthetic, everything was just so well done. Even now, a few weeks after I’ve finished bingeing it all in one go, I still sometimes go back just to stare at Anya Taylor Joy’s face. Honest to god that woman is absolutely gorgeous.

BETH HARMON AND SOMETHING ABOUT SMART GIRLS

This is something that just started developing in the past few years, but as I grow older, it feels like I am prioritizing more on brains than looks. 5 years ago I was all for that bad boy let-me-fix-you-but-i-wont-bring-you-home-to-momma type guys, but these days, it’s all the brains for me.

Maybe I am just evolving more and more into a zombie….

Me turning into a zombie aside (please love me still), while I was first pulled into the show because of Beth’s looks, it was her smarts that pulled me in and made me stay. There is something so endearing yet awe-inspiring about her way of moving through life. Despite the era that The Queen’s Gambit was set in, with chess being something that usually only men participate actively in, Beth knocked down all those stereotypes without batting an eye. What’s even cooler is that she wasn’t even trying to be a feminist or to stick one out for the girls.

Beth just loved chess, and she pursued it with all her might. It wasn’t that she was trying to show all those men that women can also play chess if she’d like, but it’s just she just didn’t care. Beth couldn’t understand why everyone was so surprised at the fact that she enjoyed and was good at playing chess. For her, it was just something that she loved and took great pride in. The way she looked at the world was for the most part very innocent, and something about that made me want to roll her up into a burrito and protect her forever.

IT’S MORE THAN JUST CHESS

A lot of people might be put off by the trailer, or by the synopsis when they see that this show is all about chess. Well, take it from someone who binged this show all in one go in a day: yes…and no.

Yes to the fact that The Queen’s Gambit is indeed a show about chess. However, it was also more than that. It tackles the topic of mental health, friendship, romantic relationships, addiction. Really, this show is deeper than what they show you in the trailer.

With Beth Harmon being a chess prodigy and whatnot it is understandable that there will be a lot of chess play going on, despite that, the show managed to make it in a way that it’s not boring nor repetitive. And this is coming from someone who detests chess from when she was little. I understand no chess whatsoever yet I have no problem following along with the storyline.

Trust me, The Queen’s Gambit is more than just chess.

DEPRESSION, LONELINESS, AND OTHER DRUGS

The Queen’s Gambit follows Beth from when she was nine years old through all her transitions into being an adult. Her despairs, her proudest moments, the people that come and goes. The viewers get to see all of that. Beth when she’s happy, Beth when she’s angry…her tears, her drunk, her crazy.

I love how Beth’s mental issues are depicted in The Queen’s Gambit. It’s like one of those people who seems to have it all on the outside, but on the inside, they were all broken in pieces. Maybe how Beth handled stress and how she always strives for nothing but perfection struck a chord in me, or maybe it was something else. I don’t really know for sure, all I know is that I really appreciate how they portrayed mental issues and drug addiction in this show.

While watching Beth go through all her mental breakdowns or her non-stop drinking blender, it never once struck me as something that is…odd. It was as if all of the emotions that she went through are all just part of life––of dealing with her emotions and growing up. It wasn’t portrayed as some sort of taboo, even among her friends. They sympathize with her, they were kind and understanding yet also firm with Beth. I don’t know, maybe this part of the review doesn’t make sense at all, but I just really appreciate that The Queen’s Gambit portrayed periods of depression or anxiety as something that people go through in life, instead of something that needs to be hospitalized. You feel me?

ROMANCE IS…KINDA IN THE AIR?

Another thing I love about The Queen’s Gambit: there is no pressure for Beth to date. Sure, she has pursuers who come to try their luck, and Beth herself also was attracted to some characters in the show, but there was never an underlying pressure from her stepmom or friends to push her to date. Which, thinking of when this show was set in––the year 1958––was quite surprising, at least for me.

While in this show Beth was never in a relationship for long, she never lacks male attention. Which makes sense given how gorgeous she is. However thinking how in the 50s and 60s where women are mainly housewives and listen to their husbands, it’s really refreshing to see Beth conquering the world one chess play at a time. Not only that, in the show, she became so well known for her ruthless chess play that men were intimidated by her. Which I can only imagine is not something you see often in the 50s and 60s.

Needless to say, The Queen’s Gambit’s takes on how Beth approaches sex and romantic relationship as a whole is very refreshing. Especially when you take the era into mind.

The Verdict

If you haven’t watched this The Queen’s Gambit, you have to. No, seriously, you need to. If you follow this blog long enough, you already know that your girl rarely ever get so gung-ho about tv shows. Books yes, every now and then. But tv shows? Almost never.

Ever since I finished watching The Queen’s Gambit, I have recommended it to nearly everyone I know that has ears attached to their heads. I seriously cannot recommend this show enough. Even if you don’t think you’ll enjoy it, just give it a 30-minute trial. If it didn’t catch your interest after that, you can drop it entirely. However, if you ended up bingeing it in under a day as I did, your girl expects a kiss on the cheek and a chocolate ice cream.

Not to mention, even if the show was just kind of bleh for you, wouldn’t you watch just for Anya Taylor’s doe eyes and gorgeous cheekbones? Because I damn well know I would. *wink*

https://literaturesandmovies.com/2020/11/06/tv-show-review-the-queens-gambit-its-more-than-just-chess/

🎬 🎥 🎞️ 📽️ 🎬 🎥 🎞️ 📸 📽️ 🎬

25 Things You Missed In Queen's Gambit

https://youtu.be/fDr0uKFkwpw

youtube

🎬 🎥 🎞️ 📽️ 🎬 🎥 🎞️ 📸 📽️ 🎬

Creating The Queen’s Gambit | Netflix

https://youtu.be/LzDhpEInMIg

youtube

Creating The Queen’s Gambit | Netflix

https://youtu.be/CDrieqwSdgI

youtube

🎬 🎥 🎞️ 📽️ 🎬 🎥 🎞️ 📸 📽️ 🎬

#Queen’s Gambit #TV Show Review #Netflix

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forevermyalwaysphff · 5 years ago

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Chapter 13

A/N: Hello everyone! I want to thank you all for the messages and support in continuing this story. The responses were so amazing and made me very motivated to bring more work for you guys to share.

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“Ok so mozza sticks or nachos for tonight?” Alice turned around and held up both items for Alexa to decide. They were stocking up on supplies for their board game and wine night with Hallie and Naomi that evening at their flat.

“Mozza sticks! Hallie loves those chessy fully loaded carby things.” Alexa pushed the cart forward as Alice pilled in a mound of junk food. “Alice, I think that is plenty for tonight.” She couldn’t help but giggle at her roommate who had a bit too much of a sweet tooth.

“You can never have enough junk food… or wine!” Alice winked back before becoming serious. “So, are you going to tell them about Harry?” She brought up the subject; curious to know when Alexa would let a few others in on her little secret. Alice understood why Alexa was hesitant in telling Hallie and Naomi about who she was really dating, but she encouraged her anyway knowing that in the end Alexa would feel better about having her close friends be able to confide in.

“I don’t know honestly.” Alexa pondered briefly, wondering what the best option would be. “I want them to know, but I am also a bit nervous of how they will react.” She grabbed a box of cereal and placed it in the cart, avoiding making eye contact with Alice.

“Alexa, stop that.” Alice wrapped her arm around Alexa’s shoulder and slowly walked forward down the aisle lined with food. “They are going to be thrilled for you. You already told them you are seeing someone and you told me how happy they were for you!” Her roommate patted her shoulder gently in reassurance. “They might be surprised a bit, but wouldn’t it be nice to be able to talk about your relationship with your close friends? I know that I don’t think Jay and I could handle this long distance relationship if I did not have my girls to confide in.”

“I know that, Alice.” Alexa sighed with hesitance. “I didn’t tell them who for a reason.” She looked beside into her friend’s eyes.

“You think they won’t like the idea of you dating another guy similar to Reese…” Alice hit the hammer right on the nail.

“Well, yes.” Alexa breathed out heavily. “He’s not the same though and I want them to see that he isn’t. That our relationship is different and he’s more than just Prince Harry to me. That he is my boyfriend...” The two women strolled down the aisle of the grocery store as Alexa kept a watchful eye on who was around them in case anyone over heard their conversation.

“Alexa, in the end it’s your decision to tell them or not.” Alice expressed an sympathetic look for her friend. “But, I think that they will see how happy you are with Harry and they will be happy for you to!”

“Thanks, Alice.” She pulled her smiling roommate into a side hug. “You really are a true friend and I am so happy that you are mine!” Alexa gushed. “We better get going so we can make it home in time before the girls get there.”

Alexa pushed the cart towards an empty cashier and started to unload their items on the grocery belt. Glancing up she saw a row of magazines of celebrity gossip as she scanned through them only to see an image of Harry plastered on the front of one. He appeared to be in his military uniform embarking down the steps of a plane in Arizona. Of course the paparazzi had got wind of his training stint in the United States and followed him there.

It had been a week since he had left the UK for further training that was required of him. Harry’s schedule had been so busy that he barely had any time to speak with Alexa let alone reply to her texts. He had apologize for his absence when he responded days later in a quick reply saying he had a class or more training to run off too.

She filled her own schedule with lunches with friends, catching up on her work, taking extra shifts with SORRT and now filling the weekends she used to spend with Harry with girls nights. Alexa needed to keep her mind off of how much she found herself missing Harry, a little feeling that started to scare her.

“Damn…” Alice sneaked up on Alexa and whispered in her ear. “He does look good in a uniform.” Her roommate grabbed a copy of the magazine and cheekily bought it for Alexa.

Alice handed Alexa the magazine with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Here, when you miss that ginger soldier late at night.” Alexa’s mouth dropped in shock while feeling Alice pat her back lightly.

“Shhh...” Alexa hushed her friend and looked around to see if anyone over heard them. “You are awful, you know that! I think you need to fly to Jay in Germany for a couple of months.”

“Yeah, probably do, but you will thank me later!” Alice pushed the cart away towards the exit and held up the magazine waving it in the air.

—————————

“Naomi you can’t just do that because you want too!” Alice stood up from her seat and started to laugh at Naomi for not following the rules of the game of Monopoly as the competitive nature within Alice came forth. Tossing her hands up in the air she plopped down on the empty space beside Alexa and angled her head up at her. “You do realize Naomi is going to be staying here tonight… again.” Alice whispered only loud enough for Alexa to hear. Naomi always seemed to enjoy her alcohol a little too much on girls nights often leading to her crashing at their flat.

“Hey, I only came here for the wine.” Naomi giggled while staring at her half empty wine glass. “Speaking of which, top me up Alice!” She hoisted the glass up in the air.

“If you do that Naomi is crashing here with you two!” Hallie protested with her hands held up in the air. “I am not looking after her sorry drunk ass again!” Naomi glared at Hallie for her comments, but brushed it off while Alice poured more red wine into her glass.

“I will just snuggle with Alexa tonight anyway, right?” Naomi stared hopefully into Alexa’s eyes as she reached for the dice.

“Uh… ya sure Noe.” Alexa hesitated in her reply as Harry had texted her saying he would be free to chat later once her girls night was over. “You can crash here tonight.”

“What? Your boyfriend isn’t coming over for a booty call later?” Hallie piped in, teasing Alexa and taking a long sip of her wine.

If Alexa were going to tell Naomi and Hallie about Harry, now would be the perfect time to do so. Part of her was nervous in how they would react to the news, but Alice had convinced Alexa that they would be happy for her that she found someone in her life that makes her smile as much as Harry does.

“About that…” Alexa’s green eyes scanned the room to fall on Alice’s brown eyes that were full of encouragement as she gave a subtle nod. She had rolled the dice and moved her player down the monopoly board as the room filled with silence, waiting for Alexa to continue.

“There is something that I have been wanting to tell you two.” Alexa breathed in and lifted her head to find Naomi and Hallie staring at her with questioning expressions.

“Oh come on! Spit it out!” An impatient Naomi was eager to hear what her friend had to say.

“Naomi…” Alice smacked Naomi’s knee and scolded her quietly.

“You all know that I am dating someone now.” Alexa’s mind brought up a memory of Harry on their last day together walking Peanut in the local park as an image of his smile lingered in her mind. “But, I am in a relationship with someone who makes me extremely happy and it’s been really great being able to get to know him privately.” The smile that was plastered on Alexa’s lips that matched her statement could not be denied.

“Privately?” Hallie angled her head with a curiously raised eyebrow at Alexa.

Biting down on her lower lip, Alexa took in a deep breath with slight hesitation. “I am in a relationship with Prince Harry.”

The room fell into a deafening silence as Alexa’s confession surprised Hallie and Naomi.

“Excuse me, did you just say that you are banging Prince Harry?” Hallie bluntly blurted out to break the silence. “Like the Queen’s grandson Prince Harry? Like Harry? Ginger Harry?” Hallie kept repeating his name while Naomi’s buzzed mind took a bit longer to process it all.

“Yeah…” Alexa softly replied, as their expressions were still unreadable. “Prince Harry is my boyfriend I guess.” She slowly spoke it again, as if speaking those words finally made it seem more real.

“This is the same Harry you told us about before?” Naomi broke her silence. “The one you told us about a lunch a few weeks ago?”

“Same Harry.” Alexa pursed her lips together and nodded before taking a generous sip of her wine and topped off her glass.

“Wow! Well girl you done goooood!” Hallie rose her wine glass and clinked it with Alexa’s. “Bagging a prince! Would have thought our little Lexi to be snagging the world’s most eligible bachelor!”

“Awe, Lexi!” The hopeless romantic in Naomi was starting to surface. “I am sorry I was so shocked, I just it’s so hard to even think about. But, you two met at Eugenie’s engagement party, right?!”

“Yeah we did.” Alexa smiled fondly at the memory of it all. “I should have told you sooner, but I honestly was not sure what was going to come of it all with Harry.”

“You don’t have to explain why you chose to wait to tell us, Lexi.” Hallie leaned in and squeezed her knee in a gesture of support. “We all could tell that you were happy with whoever it was and now to find out that it’s Prince Harry that has made you not stop smiling is so wonderful.” Hallie’s words struck a heartfelt chord with Alexa.

“I think I can speak for all of us that we are so happy for you.” Naomi added in. “I did not expect it to be Prince Harry, but damn he better know what a good catch you are!” The room erupted in a fit of giggles. “You are way out of his league girl, seriously he must have had some smooth moves up his sleeve to get you to go out with him!”

Relief washed through Alexa now that her close friends all knew about her relationship with Harry. It was such a weight off of her chest that she did not need to hide it anymore from them all. She could confide in them now and not feel like she was alone in all of this. It felt amazing for them to know and be so supportive of it making her wish she had told them sooner about him.

“Seriously, they are so cute together.” Alice had remained quiet throughout it all, but she had to admit what she saw that morning Alice had shared breakfast with them. “He could hardly keep his eyes off of you!”

“You have met him!?” Hallie’s head snapped towards Alice as she questioned him.

“He came over when I was sick last weekend to look after me.” Alexa started to share more information about their relationship, the full story of how they met and what they did on their first date and how nervous Alexa was staying overnight with Harry at Kensington the first time together. The board game had stopped, but the wine kept flowing as the girls bombarded Alexa with question after question about her relationship with the prince.

“I couldn’t imagine dating a prince. I mean with all the media constantly following you…” Naomi breathed out deeply. The fact that her friends were fixated on the fact that Harry was a prince made Alexa want even more for them to meet Harry and see that he was more than what the media had labeled him as.

“Harry’s more than a prince.” Alexa spoke up and gained all of her friend’s attention on her as she pulled her legs up on the couch. “He’s so kind and such a dork sometimes, but he does really care so much about people and works so hard in the army.” She paused for a moment. “I never thought that I would want to be in a relationship with someone like Harry after Reese, but he is a far better man than Reese could ever be; I can already see that in him. I know you have doubts, but I want you to meet Harry and see him for how I see him. Because when I look at him, I don’t see a prince, I just see Harry.”

“I honestly was scared when you first said that you were with him.” Hallie nodded slowly. “I just don’t want to see you hurt like that again Lexi… and Harry is in the same class of people that Reese so I do have my reservations about him despite how happy you are. You were exactly the same with Reese at the start and well…” Hallie shrugged her shoulders. “Harry has been labeled as a player... please be careful.”

“Hallie…” Alice spoke her name through pursed lips as she watched Alexa’s smile fade with the harsh reminder.

“What? I am only saying what you are all thinking.” Hallie defended herself before looking to see Alexa staring blankly ahead. “I won’t let that happen to you again. It was crushing to see you like that, Alexa.”

“I would know, wouldn’t I? Why do you think I waited to tell you this?” Alexa closed her green eyes and willed the budding tears away. “Thank you for your concern Hal, but it’s different this time and believe me I am not the one that needs to be reminded of how crushing it was.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I know you have your doubts and that’s fine, but do not talk about my boyfriend like that when you don’t even know him.” Her green eyes found Hallie’s and bore into them with hurt circling in her orbs.

“Who wants more wine!?” Naomi grabbed a bottle and started to fill everyone’s up in an attempt to distract Hallie and Alexa. “We should watch some cheesy chick flick? Maybe The Notebook?”

“Nooo!” The three girls all said in unison. Hallie inwardly smiled knowing they wouldn’t go for it, but it distracted them for just enough time to hopefully move on.

“How many times have you actually watched that movie, Naomi?” Alice started to laugh.

“I stopped counting after fifty two.” Naomi playfully pushed Alice for giving her an incredulous expression while Hallie and Alexa remained deep in conversation.

“Alexa…” Hallie shook her head. “It’s coming from a place of concern. I don’t want you to get hurt again. But, I am happy for you that you found someone.” She paused as her features began to soften. “I guess I need to meet him then.”

“Yeah! When can we met your boy toy?!” Naomi lightened the mood.

“I want you all to meet him, I really do, but he is away for another week.” Alexa sighed deeply. “And I don’t know what his schedule looks like after that. He spends most of his time on base.”

“Well, whenever you are ready for us to we would love to!” Hallie smiled warmly with her brown apologetic eyes. “I am sorry, but I want him to treat you well like you deserve.”

“Invite him to one of our wine and board games night?!” Naomi piped and blurted out her idea. “I can bring Oliver so there is a bit of testosterone in the room. Maybe Jay will be in London too?” Naomi was doing what she did best, trying to make everyone feel welcomed and at home.

“I could talk to Jay.” Alice shared a look with Alexa to see if that is what she wanted to do.

“I think that would be great! We are trying to keep things low key so that would be perfect.” Alexa started to beam at the thought of Harry meeting her friends like they had talked about before he left. “Also, I know it goes without saying this, but please keep this information to yourself.” Her green eyes pleaded as they scanned the room. “We are doing our best to not let it get out at least until after Eugenie’s wedding. We don’t want the news to overshadow her day at all and I am trusting all of you and I know that you won’t say anything.”

“Lexi, you do not worry about us.” Naomi assured her.

“Our lips are all sealed as long as you give us the deets on his crown jewels!” Hallie barked a laugh that everyone in the room was quick to join in on except for the embarrassed Alexa.

Alexa crawled under the warm comforter and pulled the blanket over top of her. Laying her head down on the cool pillow she grabbed her phone sitting on the bedside table. Peanut jumped up on the bed and moved in a circle for a few times before settling down by her feet. Picking up the phone she dialled Harry trying to think of the time difference in the states wondering if she had missed her window of opportunity to call him.

“Hello, gorgeous.” The sound of his voice instantly made a smile appear on her lips.

“Hey sexy pilot.” Her buzzed mind from the consumed wine had evidently lacked a filter.

“Sexy huh? How much wine did you drink? Not that I am complaining.” His laughed echoed through the phone.

“I miss that laugh.” Alexa grew quiet as she looked to the empty space on Harry’s side of the bed. “I miss you…” She confessed softly.

“Babe, I miss you too.” Harry admitted as he released a deep sigh. “It’s been tough here. The training has been rigorous and I have had no time to talk to you like I promised.”

“You can do this, Harry. It’s only a few more days and then you are back on a plane to me.” Alexa smiled hopefully. “Then we can have all weekend to ourselves.”

“Uh… Alexa.” Harry grew quiet not wanting to tell her he would no be able to come back on the weekend. “About that.” He paused as she heard him released a deep sigh. “I can’t come back to London next weekend. I have a flight test that they just scheduled on the Sunday.”

“So it’s going to be three weeks that I don’t see you for?” Her smile faded away as the thought of not seeing Harry for that long upset Alexa.

“Unfortunately. I am so sorry babe.” Harry felt awful as he felt the disappointment in Alexa’s voice.

“Wait!” Alexa thought of an idea. “I could come to you… I have some time off I could take and spend a few days on base with you? If you want me to of course?” She shifted her body in the bed.

“Really? You think work would be ok with that?” Harry did not want Alexa to get in trouble at work just to be able to see him.

“Yeah, they won’t care as long as I have people covering for me.” Alexa’s smile started to grow at the thought of taking a trip to see Harry. “Besides, you have been the one always coming back here and I can drive out there this time. It’s only fair I make the commute sometimes too.”

“I would love that, babe. I really would.” Harry sat down on the edge of his bed. “It’s so different in Suffolk. I can take you out on a date without worrying about the paps. You can even bring Peanut if you wish, there is a great park there.”

“Peanut do you want to go on a road trip?!” Alexa petted the dog to get her attention. “She’s never been on one so we will cross that off her bucket list!”

“Great!” Harry sighed deeply; feeling his state of exhaustion hit his body hard. “How was your girls night?”

“Well I may have told them that I am in a relationship with you…” Alexa trailed off as she quietly waited for Harry’s reply being unsure of what he would say.

“And?” The prince chuckled having heard Alexa’s hesitant tone.

“They are happy for me mostly.” Alexa sighed, “You aren’t mad I told them?”

“Of course not, babe.” Harry was quick to stop her growing doubts. “I want you to be able to tell who you want, but be careful who you do tell. I am only saying this to protect you because some people think it’s their business to share the fact that we are in a relationship. I trust your judgment, Alexa.”

He paused for a moment having remembered a key word. “Wait… mostly happy?”

“My friend Hallie is a bit cautious of you I guess is the best way to put it.” Alexa shook her head. “She’s only worried that you will hurt me like I have been in the past. But, I told her to wait and meet you so she could see that it’s different.” She tried to reassure her boyfriend.

“I am not upset at that at all. You need a friend like that after what happened and quite frankly it will be that much sweeter when I win her over!” He tossed his head back in laughter as his infectious laugh lightened the mood.

Alexa fell into a fit of giggles hearing the prince’s contagious laugh that she had dearly missed. It felt good to hear him laugh knowing how stressed and exhausted he was. “How are you doing with it all? You sound exhausted, babe.”

“I am tired, Lex.” She heard her boyfriend release a deep sigh. “Quite frankly I didn’t think it would be this hard. The flying is relatively easy, it comes second nature to me, but the exams get me all the time. It’s like I freeze and blank on everything.” The prince confided in his girlfriend.

“You can do this, Harry I know you can.” Alexa encouraged him. “You have been working so hard for this, why stop now? You have what, five months until your course is done? Then you will be an actual Apache pilot like you have always wanted to be.”

The support Alexa showed him gave Harry an extra boost of confidence. “You are the best, you know that right?” Harry shook his head lightly knowing that he had won the jackpot with Alexa. “I needed to hear that.”

“Good! Now I am going to go to sleep because I am nearly passing out over here and you go kick some exam ass and show them how capable Lieutenant Harry Wales is.” Alexa’s eyelids became heavy with sleep.

“Alright, gorgeous. Get some sleep.” He did not want to end the conversation, but he had to go for another training exercise.

“Goodnight my ginger boyfriend.” Alexa giggled softly.

“Hey…” Harry stopped her from hanging up.

“Yeah?” Her sleepy voice replied.

“I miss you.” The prince whispered into the phone as a group of guys entered the room.

“You better be missing me.” Alexa sassily. “Also, what are your thoughts on board games and wine?”

——————

Alexa ran to the other side of the vehicle and opened the door to help her grandmother, Alexandria, get out of the passenger side. She was asked by her parents to take her granny to tour a retirement facility that Alexandria was interested in moving in to.

She grabbed a firm grip of her gran’s hand aiding her out of the car. “You steady there gran?”

“Yes dear. Will you be a dear and grab my coat?” Her tiny grandmother proceeded ahead.

“Here you are!” Alexa handed her the coat and offered her arm as they walked into the facility.

Alexa slowed down her pace giving her a chance to look up at the entrance and the building they were about to walk into. It was bitter sweet to help her granny find a new place to call home as her grandmother had remained in the house she raised her children in. But, it was her wish to move into a smaller space with more people her age.

“Are you sure about this gran?” Alexa took in the tall beautifully designed building that were lined with decorated flowers and shrubs that rounded the corner in what appeared to be an open green space for the residents.

“I am not as spry as I used to be, dear.” Her grandmother tapped her hand lightly before glancing ahead of her. “Let’s see my new home!”

“Well, let’s see how we like it first no need to move in tonight.” Alexa could not stop the smile that was reflecting on her own lips, as her grandmother was eager to embark on the next stage in her life.

They walked through the double white French doors that opened into a brightly lit modern facility. It was not like the old folks home that Alexa had envisioned, it was much more than she expected.

“You must be Mrs. Grey. My name is Gloria and I am the director here at Park Terrace Retirement Home.” A middle-aged woman dressed in a black pencil skirt and burgundy blouse greeted them.

“Yes, I am.” Alexandria shook the kind woman’s hand. “This is my granddaughter, Alexa. She will be joining me on this tour.”

“Hello, it’s nice to meet you Gloria.” Alexa shook the woman’s hand and then proceeded on the tour along with her grandmother.

The two of them were shown the spacious rooms complete with a private bathroom and enough space for a bed with a lounge chair. They met the kitchen staff and enjoyed a light lunch meal to get a taste of the food that was cooked for the residents. The home provided three full meals, afternoon tea as well as a night snack.

“What kind of activities do you offer?” Alexa had been bombarding Gloria with question after question ensuring that her granny had all the information necessary to make a decision and to find out herself whether the retirement home offered was the best option.

“Oh, Alexa…” Her grandmother shook her head and lightly grasped Alexa’s hand. “So many questions, my dear.”

“But, gran I only want you to stay in the best place available.” Alexa defended her array of questions.

“No need to worry about that, Alexa.” Gloria smiled reassuringly. “I would be happy to show you the activities we offer here.” She led them down the hall towards a group of elderly men and women deep into a game.

“This is our activity room. As you can see we have a calendar to show what activities are happening and when.” Alexa was pleased to see how the home keeps their residents active and young at heart. “We also plan monthly shopping trips as well as extra trips to museums, galleries, musicals and even the ballet.”

The ballet.

That was why her granny was so adamant that this was the place for her. Alexandria had a love for the ballet as she was trained in the Royal Ballet before she had met her husband. She would often take Alexa as a child to see ballets, mostly to her favourite, Swan Lake.

Alexandria had to give up her love of ballet when her husband, Christian, a second world war air force pilot was killed in action after the war in a foreign conflict, leaving her to raise four young children on her own. Alexa’s father was the eldest of the four children and helped her mother raise his siblings. To this day, he still felt the need to look after his mother after all she had done for his family.

When Alexa was born, her grandmother was one of the first people to hold her and her father saw an instant connection between the two of them. Her parents had already decided to name her Analeigha, but they both agreed that they had to change their mind. That is how she got her name Alexandria, after her grandmother hard working, feisty, beautiful grandmother. Though throughout her childhood, everyone called her Alexa for short.

“The ballet?” Alexa could sense that her gran wanted to know more information about it, but remained quiet so she asked on her behalf. “How often do you attend them?”

“Once a month, but we are working to add another into the schedule in the next few months.” Gloria informed them before she allowed Alexa and her grandmother to tour the rest of the facility on their own.

They were walking along a path outside lined with an array of flowers admiring the care that went into the place. “So, what do you think gran?” Alexa asked having already known the answer.

Her green eyes peaked up from her tiny frame shining up at Alexa. “They have trips to the ballet, they give me all my meals and look at this garden!” Alexa scanned around the garden.

“They even have some of the same flowers you do at home!” She walked quickly towards a patch of sunflowers, her grandmothers favourite. “See?!”

“I think it’s a match then!” Alexandria tossed her arms up in the air with the biggest smile that Alexa hadn’t seen in a long time. Her grandmother gently grasped Alexa’s arm. “Will you help me fill out the paper work?”

“Of course granny. I would love too as long as you feel this is where you want to be!” Alexa searched the same green eyes she had inherited from her grandmother as she gently placed her hand over top of her gran’s, giving it a light squeeze.

“I think it’s time I move sweetie.” Alexandria released a deep sigh with a gentle nod of the head as she came to terms with her decision. Alexa’s grandmother was still of sound mind and physically pretty healthy, but she simply could not keep up much longer to the large space of her home.

“I did not want this to influence your decision, but I am literally half a mile away if you moved in here.” Alexa smiled warmly as she informed her grandmother. “I can visit you more often then!”

“Oh really?!” Alexandria’s eyes lit up at the thought of it all. “I would love that dear!”

“Ok, gran! Why don’t you have a seat here and I will go grab Gloria and some of the paper work.” Alexa left her grandmother sitting outside on a little patio table while she ran inside to get the forms.

Alexa assisted her granny with all the paperwork and it was now official that she would move into Park Terrace in a few short weeks. The only problem was that it coincided with her parents trip that they had been planning for well over a year meaning she would have to enlist her brothers, friends or even Harry’s assistance in moving her grandmother.

Alexandria invited her granddaughter back to her home for some tea and home made baking, an offer that Alexa could not refuse as the taste of her gran’s ginger snap cookies melted in her mouth.

Sitting on her grandmother’s living room floor she searched through an old box of her gran’s and pulled out an old black and white picture of what appeared to be a younger image of her gran beside a man in a military uniform. “Gran, is that granddad?”

Alexa handed her grandmother the photo while she sat in her rocking chair. The smile that instantly grew on her lips gave Alexa the answer. “Yes, dear it is your grand daddy.” She sat back into her chair and slowly rocked it back and forth.

“This was on our wedding day. The day after he returned home from the war.” Alexandria reminisced of the day. “I was waiting for Christian at the train station as did so many other women waiting for their men to come home after the war ended. Your grandfather wasted no time getting down on one knee and proposing to me.” Alexa sat quietly on the floor listening to her grandmother tell the story.

“Seeing him in that uniform…” Her granny giggled with a mischievous wink.

“Gran!” Alexa’s mouth dropped in shock that her innocent little grandmother would say such a thing.

“I said yes right away and we could not wait any longer to be married so I went to the dress shop and bought the first one I tried on.” Alexandria was grinning from ear to ear before sighing. “We had a good life together, the short years we spent married. I kept dancing for the ballet and your grand dad was at every show he could be at.”

Her grandmother looked down and held Alexa’s gaze. “We had your father and then your uncles. I got stuck with all boys, could you believe that? Not one daughter. But, Christian had to get deployed again and this time he did not come back home. Not the way I wanted him to.” Alexa’s eyes softened as she saw the sadness grow on the wrinkles that lined her granny’s face.

“I raised those boys all on my own. Only your father has a few memories of his dad, but I always told them stories of him so they would know who he was.” Alexandria locked eyes with

Alexa and smiled through the sorrow. “I know, Alexa.”

“Gran?” Alexa angled her head up at her grandmother. “Know what?”

“Oh, Alexa.” Her gran smiled cheekily. “There is a little sparkle in your eye, a swing in your step that I have not seen before, dear.” Alexandria raised her pointer finger and leaned forward. “I may be old, but you cannot get anything passed me that easily.”

“Granny…” Alexa suddenly became shy and hid her face in her cupped hands.

“Now, spit it out. Tell me who the boy is.” She started to giggle, but the smile that was plastered on her grandmother’s lips forced Alexa to tell her.

“His name is Harry.” Alexa was beaming as she told her grandmother about Harry, leaving out the fact that he was a British Prince. Talking about Harry only made Alexa miss him more than she realized. A part of her was scared of that feeling that lingered within her as it meant she truly felt something for Harry, for Eugenie’s cousin, for the British Prince.

#prince harry #phff #fanfic #prince harry fanfic #royalfanficcentral #forevermyalwaysphff #harry and alexa #chapters #chapter13

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writing-and-uhh-stuff · 5 years ago

Text

So, that’s what you do on Christmas?

On ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21772297

Summary:

‘Twas the season to be jolly! ‘Twas also Virgil’s first Christmas with the Light Sides and, needless to say, he was quite nervous about it.

❄️☃️🎄☃️🎄☃️🎄☃️❄️

Ah, the sweet taste of gingerbread and the cinnamon aroma in the kitchen; fairy lights covering every available surface and wall; the Christmas tree already decorated with ornate ornaments and gaudy garlands; the funky tunes of the Christmas carols… ‘Twas the season to be jolly!

‘Twas also Virgil’s first Christmas with the Light Sides and, needless to say, he was quite nervous about it. First of all, he wanted all of them to have a great time. Secondly, he desperately didn’t want to embarrass himself and look like a weirdo. After all, the impression that he made during the holidays could very well become the reason of either his permanent inclusion in the group, or his irreversible banishment from any future interaction with them. Like, no pressure or anything.

So, he decided to keep his mouth shut.

‘Logan, Christmas carols aren’t supposed to be rapped!’ Roman shrieked, exacerbated from his attempts to get Logic to sing. This was enough of a distraction for Anxiety to leave his troubling thoughts aside for a moment. ‘I think, at this point, you’re deliberately trying to get on my nerves!’

‘That is absolutely correct.’ Logan crossed his arms in front of his chest. ‘You know me too well, Princey, to understand that I dislike singing pointless, repetitive and mind-numbing songs.’

‘You take that back right now, Ebenezer Subterfuge! “Jingle Bells” is a classic that cannot be removed from the Christmas tradition!’

‘Yes, and precisely because we are singing it every year, every time I hear the song I want to figuratively throw myself off the nearest peer.’

‘Okay, that was it!’

Roman rolled up his sleeves as if about to settle this square off style.

‘Now, now – ‘Patton addressed both of them from the kitchen. ‘You got to play nice, kiddos. It’s Christmas Eve and on Christmas Eve we don’t argue with family!’

‘What about tomorrow?’ Creativity asked.

‘No, tomorrow is also a sacred family holiday!’

‘So, then 26. December is the official date of our throwdown, where I – ‘Logan began but was cut off abruptly from Patton’s now louder, clearer voice:

‘Do you want me to leave the food to help with solving your dispute?’ Even though it was phrased as a seemingly innocent and friendly question, Patton’s tone reeked of stern disapproval. The Sides silently agreed that it was in their best interest that Morality stayed in the kitchen to finish his cooking.

‘No, no need for you to come, dadd – I mean, Patts.’ Logan made an involuntary Freudian slip, causing both Roman and Virgil to lose it completely. ‘Very funny, very funny, guys.’ He tried his best not to appear flustered and began fiddling with his tie, which he wore over his Christmas jumper.

‘Someone has a worsening Oedipal complex.’ Roman’s smirk threatened to overtake his entire face.

‘Falsehood, technically it is an Electra complex and… oh, whatever.’ Logic gave up on explaining when the creative Side struggled to contain his laughter.

Absolutely defeated, Logan sat next to Virgil on the couch. The mindpalace commons were festively decorated with garlands and Christmas lights, as well as some drawings done by both Roman and Patton, and a stuffed reindeer and polar bear. Most of those were positioned on the couch since “Black isn’t a very festive colour!” It took the two of the Sides some adjustments and décor-shoving to sit comfortably.

Virgil wanted to say something to break the awkward silence that suddenly had overcome the room but his tongue was tied. He started to fidget with the sleeves of his sweater, which Logan had have definitely noticed, Vigil thought to himself. He glanced to the other Side as the feeling of being watched intensified. Logan appeared to have given his entire attention to a book about quantum physics from his personal collection.

Still that doesn’t mean he wasn’t watching me before that!. Another suspicion had formed in his mind and Anxiety retroactively self-confirmed his fear that the Light Sides still didn’t trust him completely, and that they would never trust him completely, and that this was all a set-up, and…

‘Virge, do hear me?’ Virgil almost jumped as he heard Patton’s voice close to his left. When did this guy get over here? ‘I know, kiddo, that you value your gloomy brooding time but don’t leaf your papa hanging!’ the moral Side shook the metal tray with pine-shaped biscuits towards Virgil’s face who took one. Logic groaned at Morality’s pun with his mouth fully stuffed with Patton’s cookies.

‘Padre, you are a cooking wizard!’ Creativity flattered Morality with mouthful of the sweets, spitting crumbs all over the carpet.

‘You know, Roman, the magic of Christmas can be found even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the fairy lights on the Christmas tree.’ Patton stared into the distance, wanting to appear contemplative.

‘I was on the verge of complaining about it. However, it was the Harry Potter reference that ultimately saved you, Patts.’

‘Yeah, it was a nice one.’ The anxious Side agreed with Logic and chewed his thumb. Should have he added another joke?

The cookies were inevitably eaten. Everyone seemed in a much better mood.

‘What are we going to do now?’ Morality behaved just like an excitable child would during Christmas Eve.

‘Well, I suppose I could reconsider singing.’ Logan dragged out his sentence, looking like he was convincing himself in the process. Though that didn’t matter to neither Patton nor Roman: the latter puffed out his chest and grabbed his imaginary music sheets. Logan stood up and walked over to Patton, who was already next to the creative Side. The three of them blinked and stared at Virgil. Cold sweat ran down his back. Were they unsure of whether or not to include him?

‘C’mon, Virge, we’re waiting for you!’

‘Precisely, if I have to perform and strain my vocal chords, then so do you, too.’

‘It wouldn’t be the same without our Nightmare before Christmas!’ proclaimed Creativity.

‘Was… was that supposed to be a joke, or…’ Virgil began but Roman didn’t give him an answer. Instead Creativity came over to the couch, grabbed his hand and dragged him to the other two Sides.

‘The stage wouldn’t dim its lights for you, Virgil! Show it your beautiful, wonderful baritone!’ whimsy was now practically radiating from Roman, making Anxiety understand him even less. He was certainly sure that even Roman didn’t always have a full grasp of whatever came out of his mouth.

‘Whatever.’ Virgil mumbled, trying to hide his sly smirk.

He was positioned where Roman had stood previously. Creativity faced the other three:

‘Let’s start on three – one…’

‘I don’t think a song like “Jingle Bells” needs conducting.’

Logan’s statement went unacknowledged by the creative Side yet again.

After the song was ultimately over, Patton and Logan busied themselves with setting the table.

‘Before the Christmas meal begins, I insist we partake in my favourite tradition.’ Logic set down the Christmas turkey with a festive gleam in his eyes.

‘Sure, what is it?’ Virgil questioned as the only uninitiated one in the group.

‘Logan really likes his Christmas crackers, for some reason.’ Roman shrugged and sure, the logical Side conjured a whole basket full of them.

‘Great, loud noises.’ Anxiety opened and closed his hands. The unsettling feeling grew deeper. Something was not right and he knew it. ‘I love those.’

Apparently Logic had thought of that since he conjured a solution instantaneously – a pair of ear plugs.

‘Thanks.’ Virgil put them in his ears and made sure he couldn’t hear anything.

Everyone reached and pulled one from the basket – Virgil shared his first cracker with Patton, who beamed with enthusiasm and enjoyed every second of it. It exploded in a cloud of confetti and sparkles and revealed a thin shiny paper crown, a piece of paper and some candy. Morality grabbed the paper:

‘I'm reading a book about anti-gravity. It's impossible to put down!’ he busted into an adorkable fit of giggles and Virgil couldn’t help but smile. However, when Morality remembered the he couldn’t hear him, he passed the paper over. Glancing back and forth from Patton to Logan, who was trying to pry the paper crown out of Roman’s grasp, Virgil’s mind formed a suspicion why the logical Side enjoyed the crackers so much.

‘Aha!’ Whilst Roman sunk into his chair with a very pissed off expression, Logan stuck the stupid thing on his head with the most confidence he ever had and looked over to Patton, who couldn’t stop giggling. And Anxiety’s suspicion was confirmed when the two of them exchanged cheesy looks at one another, blushing like morons and then trying to hide how love-struck and awkward they had acted for the sake of the others. It wasn’t like it was hard to notice, especially with all the “accidental” bumping into each other in the kitchen or laying hands on one another when they thought no one was watching.

‘Ugh!’ It seemed Creativity had had the same thoughts prior since he and Anxiety spoke in unison. They immediately locked eyes and then pretended it didn’t happen.

Patton, oblivious to their troubles, slid half the bonbons plus the shiny crown over. Virgil took the sweet delights. The crown was slid back to the moral Side. Unfortunately, Patton disagreed:

‘Kiddo, I want you to wear it!’ he took the paper and gestured with it around. ‘Hereby I crown you the monarch of the Fun domain!’ Virgil attempted to dissuade him again. Nonetheless Morality had already made his mind. ‘You’re special and deserve it!’

The anxious Side couldn’t take more of his sappiness - the easier thing was to nod and wear the stupid crown. At least this one was purple. Shiny purple, definitely not Virgil’s purple, although still purple.

Roman, now eyeing Virgil’s crown with jealousy, proposed they shared a cracker. Anxiety rolled his eyes but conceded. Of course, the first thing Roman did was to take the new red glistening cardboard and offer the sweets as a compensation. Virgil read the terrible pun aloud:

‘Why did the invisible man turn down the job offer? He couldn't see himself doing it.’

Creativity rated the joke as a 9/10 and turned to get a second opinion, only to be greeted with the sight of Patton feeding Logan candy, because they had taken the last cracker. All matter of pretence was dropped when Logan swallowed the last confectionary, wrapped his arms around Patton (who put his around the other Side’s neck) and pulled him in for a kiss. Anxiety was glad he still had the earplugs in and couldn’t hear the make-out noises. Roman didn’t have this luxury:

‘All this PDA is making me want to P-D-go away!’ he let out an exaggerated welp. ‘Please, spare the feelings of your one and lonely!’

‘Sorry, sorry.’ The kiss was broken by Morality’s muttering, which was everything but apologetic in tone. The effect of his words was lessened further by his crown drooping on his forehead. ‘Let’s eat, everybody – the turkey won’t serve itself!’

Logan cut the turkey and served each Side an equal portion. The next five minutes were spent in furious, relatively silent chomping. The usual comments and praises about Patton’s finger-licking meal were exchanged once again. The turkey was completely gone only five minutes later.

‘I’m stuffed as a teddy bear!’ announced Patton.

‘Me, too, Padre, my tummy couldn’t resist the call of the turkey!’

‘Likewise.’

‘Do you want to go lie on the couch for a bit? Watch a movie or something?’ Virgil stifled a burp. The Sides trotted over to the couch. Most of the décor now ended up on the floor. Logan was on the far left side with one arm hugging Patton, who was more or less clinging to his chest. Virgil had sunk into the depths of his hoodie on his right and was used as a pseudo-resting devise by Roman, who had thrown his feet over the armrest on the far right.

‘Which Christmas flick would you prefer?’

‘How about Home Alone – ‘

‘Can we have another suggestion? Virgil? Patton?’

‘Shall it be Home Alone 2?’

‘I was thinking of doing a whole marathon of Home – ‘

‘Understood, I’m no longer taking suggestions. We’ll be watching Elf.’

Logan turned on the TV and the movie began. The words and images washed over Virgil, too absent-minded to really get invested. Trying to ignore his problem by consuming an ungodly amount of turkey had only left him bloated and feeling a lot worse than before.

It is a simple thing, just ask them, you scaredy-cat!, Virgil berated himself. They wouldn’t say no to such a simple thing? Right?

No, are you crazy, the moment they want you to explain where it came from, and you do, they’d be disgusted, and will make you leave, and you’d have to spent Christmas all alone, and…

You’re being ridiculous! The Light Sides have been accepting of your weirdness even before you were an official member of the gang…

You’re on a different terms here than they are! They never have had to prove anything to you, but you sure as hell have everything to prove to them… Do you want them to think you haven’t grown out of your old ways? That you’re still the same Dark Side you used to be?!

‘Why do I have the feeling that we’re forgetting something?’ Patton broke the silence.

‘We accomplished absolutely everything which would constitute a successful Christmas holiday.’ Logan paused the film, pushed his glasses up his nose and conjured a “Perfect Christmas” to-do list and a pen to check if everything was in order.

‘Yeah, but I still have teensy-tiny feeling hitting my noggin as it does whenever I had failed to remember something.’

‘Well, I have no idea what that might be.’ Logan threw the list over his shoulder and it vanished in thin air.

Out of the blue all the Sides turned to Virgil.

‘Hey, kiddo, do you happen to know what we’re missing from the big picture?’

Anxiety shrunk. He didn’t want to lie to them.

‘Yeah, you almost never let anything go… I mean, you don’t forget important stuff.’ Roman elbowed him mischievously to suggest he should finally let the cat out of the bag.

‘No.’ The moment his voice came out of his mouth, a shiver went down his back. The sound was so distorted and wrong, it perfectly reflected the inner turmoil that had been plaguing his mind since the start of the evening. His hands immediately sprang to cover his mouth.

The others just blinked, dumbfounded and caught completely off-guard.

‘That… That sounded a little more like a “yes”, than it did a “no”.’ Roman noted.

‘Virgil, what’s wrong?’ Patton rested his arm on Anxiety’s shoulder.

Logan’s expression shifted from confusion to eureka:

‘Oh my god, we are so stupid!’ he sighed and covered his face. ‘We never asked you about your favourite Christmas tradition!’

‘Oh my, you’re right!’ Morality’s fingers trailed down his cheeks.

‘Why didn’t you remind us?’ Roman gently tugged Virgil’s arm.

‘It’s really… not that important.’ He stared forwards at the TV screen, hoping to evade the others’ insistent staring.

‘Of course it is! That’s the point of Christmas – to gather with your family and do the things that make you happy together!’ Patton leaned forward to gauge a look at Virgil’s face.

‘You… you wouldn’t like it. It doesn’t matter, guys.’

‘That cannot be 100% determined as a truth, unless you tell us what it is.’ Logic corrected him.

‘Okay… I’ll tell you.’ Anxiety let go of the strings of his hoodie, which he had been intensely fiddling with. He took a deep breath, made sure his voice sounded normal again, and gathered his thoughts into a cohesive sentence. ‘On Christmas Eve… me and all the other Dark Sides used to celebrate together, just like you guys… And we’d… we’d spent the entirety of the holiday with no lights and only turn them on the morning of 25. December. We’d tell each other spooky Christmas stories or play cards, or…’

He trailed off, feeling like he had said enough, and waited for their response.

‘This is certainly a unique way to celebrate but I’m willing to give it a try.’ Declared Logan. Virgil, who had shut his eyes during his confession, snapped them open.

‘Yeah, me too! Knowing my brother, I was expecting something a lot weirder, so I’m pleasantly surprised!’

‘Well, we did burn dolls that looked like you on a bonfire for Halloween, so…’

‘You know…’ Patton began and Virgil braced himself for the inevitably rejection. ‘I might be very afraid of the dark but I’ll do anything to make you feel at home with your family, Virge.’

Morality snapped his fingers and the darkness surrounded the Sides. Whilst he was visibly uncomfortable because of the darkness, he gave Virgil a reassuring smile. To ease Patton’s discomfort, the anxious Side conjured a nice candle, smelling of apple and cinnamon. Morality was in awe.

The Sides’ full attention was now given to the dancing light of the fairy lights and the glistening garlands, reflecting it. Everyone was happy.

‘So, does anybody want to tell a story?’

#logan sanders #patton sanders #sanders sides fic #roman sanders #sanders sides #ts fanfiction #logicality #my fics #my fic #virigl sanders #christmas fic #christmas

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back-to-swift · 5 years ago

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How I Became A Swiftie...

So, I was at this camp in 5th grade for a school field trip. I was 10. The counselors at this camp were singing Love Story the whole time we were there and I was like, ‘What is this song?!?!’ When I got home, I immediately looked it up and I fell in love with what I was hearing!! A few days later, I told my mom about this singer, Taylor Swift, and she drove me to Target and bought me Fearless. Not too long after that, she bought me the debut album as a surprise and omg I was instantly OBSESSED with both of these masterpieces!! I told all my friends and got some of them hooked! I would literally spend HOURS of my days locked in my room listening, singing, dancing, and even writing my own versions of these songs!! My whole life became Taylor! I looked up to her SO much! Fearless still holds such a special place in my heart because it was the first Taylor album that I ever listened to and the songs just bring back this feeling of nostalgia. They’re very special to me, so that album will always be one of my favs!

Fast forward to 2010 when Speak Now came out!! I was in 7th grade and that one really impacted me, as well. Junior high is an interesting stage in life because you’re trying to figure out who you are and you’re experiencing certain emotions for the first time. For me, I had this huge crush on my best friend at the time, so these songs really struck a chord with me. What really helped me through this time in my life was the prologue that she wrote for the lyric booklet. I also looked back at the Fearless prologue as well. Some quotes that stood out specifically are, “Words can break someone into a million pieces, but they can also put them back together. I hope you use yours for good, because the only words you’ll regret more than the ones left unsaid are the ones that you use to intentionally hurt someone,” and, “...I think the words you stop yourself from saying are the ones that will haunt you the longest.” Also, “There is a time for silence. There is a time for waiting your turn. But if you know how you feel, and you so clearly know what you need to say, you’ll know it. I don’t think you should wait, I think you should speak now.” The main quote that really really stuck with me and still sticks with me to this day is, “Fearless is having the courage to say goodbye to someone who only hurts you, even if you can’t breathe without them. I think it’s fearless to fall for your best friend, even though he’s in love with someone else.” When I took in these messages that I know came straight from Taylor’s heart, they helped me tell my best friend, and when he didn’t like me back in that way, these words also helped me be okay with that. When he fell for my other best friend, Taylor’s words helped me accept that, too. These albums became the soundtrack to my life. These songs made me feel less alone. They made me feel like somebody got me, somebody understood exactly what I was feeling. And even though I didn’t know her personally, I knew she was there for me. That’s when I knew she would start to mean so much more to me than just a singer I look up to. She started to feel more like a friend or an older sister who had all the advice I’d ever need.

In 2012, Red was released. It was my freshman year of high school. It was a time where everything was changing. I had changed schools for the first time in my entire life and I was still desperately trying to get over my best friend. This album came out at the perfect time. Songs like I Almost Do and All Too Well made me feel, again, like Taylor knew exactly what I was feeling. It was one of the saddest times in my life for a plethora of reasons. I felt insecure, I had to come to terms with the fact that this boy would never like me and I had to watch him and feel him grow further and further away from me, I felt lonely, I was fighting with my parents a lot, and I just was not happy, at all. The first few years of high school be like that sometimes, but thanks to Taylor, I didn’t have to feel completely hopeless and lost. I didn’t really understand the album fully at the time, but the songs on it that did resonate with me became a huge part of my life.

1989 came out when I was FINALLY getting over all that sadness and insecurity. I finally found the strength to let go of that guy and I finally had a solid group of friends who accepted me and loved me for me. I was getting along with my parents and I just felt a little more free. And what better album to become the new soundtrack to my life than 1989?? An album that is literally about freedom and becoming comfortable with where you’re at in life. Another reason why I loved this specific era was because it was the first time I ever got to go to a Taylor concert!! I was absolutely in love with the songs on 1989!!!! I went to the San Diego show with my best friend. We were at the very top, but it was truly one of my favorite nights ever. It still is to this day!!! I had just started my senior year of high school when I went to this concert. I was also new to the Tumblr scene and other fans inspired me to do a project. I cut out probably 100 colorful hearts and I brought them with me. When I got to my seat, I passed them out to people around me and I told them to hold them up during Clean. I wanted to show my love and appreciation to Taylor through that. I seriously can’t thank her enough for writing, “She lost him, but she found herself, and somehow that was everything.” That quote is exactly what I needed and it became my life motto! That night was so special and it’s one I’ll never forget.

Now, let me talk about reputation, which is personally, my favorite album ever!! I was a sophomore in college and omg, I was absolutely completely in love with everything about this album and this era!!! I still am!!! When Look What You Made Me Do dropped, I was driving. I blasted it all the way home and I swear, I SCREAMED every single time I listened to, “The old Taylor can’t come to the phone right now. Why? Oh, cause she’s dead!” I am not kidding you!!! I was OBSESSED and also SHOOK. I was blasting it in my car outside my house and my mom came out and was like, “What are you doing?” And I told her that Taylor Swift just released the greatest song ever!!! When the whole album came out, my best friend and I filmed our reactions to every song. We screamed, we cried, we fell on the floor, we laughed, and we smiled. We still watch those videos and die laughing at ourselves being so shook every few months. I was fully immersed into this era because it was different and it was dark and sassy.

When I first heard Gorgeous, I felt like the Taylor Swift entered into my mind and wrote exactly what I was feeling and how I acted whenever I liked someone. It was seriously so accurate, I was actually scared like WHAT?!?! Did I meet Taylor and tell her about my life and I just don’t remember or…??? Anyway, this era is special to me because I got to see my idol from the front row for the very first time in that whole decade of loving and supporting her. We got to our seats on the floor at the Pasadena show, but we couldn’t see ANYTHING because these tall guys were in front of us. So, my friend went over to the Shake It Off B-stage and asked security if we could stand there. Sure enough, she told us we could!!!! So we got to be front row!!! And I was on the edge right where there was a little opening for her to come out and go to the other B-stage. So, after that set, right before Blank Space, she walked right next to me. And I mean, if I reached out my arm, not even halfway, I would be touching her. Of course, I was too in shock to do anything, but holy shit!!!! THAT was the most iconic moment I’ve ever lived through. AND on top of it all, my friend won tickets for the next night!!! And that was the night Selena Gomez came out, AKA my other QUEEN!!!! I fell on the floor and cried, okay?? The two best nights of my life, honestly.

Anyway, I wrote this all to say that I cannot find the words to describe how grateful I am for Taylor Swift. She has been here for me for 11 years of my life… that is more than half of my existence. Her words made me feel less alone when times got hard, and they also made me feel more alive when times were good. I appreciate her for always being kind to us, sticking by us through all the ups and downs, and going out of her way to make us smile. I will never ever be able to thank her enough for writing the soundtrack for my life and for being the big sister I never had. I didn’t realize until right now, as I’m writing this, that each album came out at the perfect time in my life. Each album represents and fits each stage of life that I was experiencing at the time of each release. I can’t even tell you how much I love this woman and I will always look up to her. She means the world to me and I can only hope to meet her, hug her, and tell her exactly how thankful I am for her and how much I love and appreciate her. I can’t wait to hear Lover and analyze every word when it comes out! Thank you, Taylor, for everything.

Love, Carly

@taylorswift @taylornation

#taylor swift #lover #august 23 #yntcd #swifties #swiftie #me!#you need to calm down #the archer #rep tour #taylor nation #fearless #speak now #red #1989 #1989 tour #reputation #rep #taylurking

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glassesaremyonlyweakness · 5 years ago

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Literally about all of my Music Meister headcanons

This is really fucking long I wrote this over the course of a few days for another thing that will probably take a few more days and I went overboard If you decide to read this; bear with me (Also send me questions about him I’ll add the answer to my next entry in this big ass clusterfuck)

- The Music Meister’s real name is Dennis Neville Prowell, but he changed it to Alastor Prowell because people made fun of him as a child for being named Dennis Neville. Plus, he always says it's so uncool for a slick guy like him’.

- He kept his last name cause Prowell is his mother’s name and the guy’s a mama’s boy, he’s soft, give him a break.

- The Meister is actually Welsh on his mother’s side. He’d learn how to speak the language, but the guy knows how to play *every* instrument. They say the brain can never be full but it sure as hell can be cramped.

- Alastor has a little sister, she’s a little baby, well not really, but she’s like nine. Her name is Jacqueline, and her big brother calls her Jackie.

- Jackie was born thanks to a sperm donor, since the father is no longer in the picture. Jokes on him, Ms. Prowell is the one with the fortune now.

- Alastor isn’t the best with kids (they’re annoying and he’s impatient), but Jacquline is his little princess. His mother has to stop him from spoiling her rotten all day with dresses and jewelry and sweets.

- High-key, he really wants to get her a pair of musical note glasses like his.

- (I might make Jacquelin her own headcanon page tbh)

- Of course, the family doesn’t know that their beloved son/brother is the corrupt conductor himself, y’know until he gets arrested.

- Strangely enough, no one of the Meister’s direct family are affected by his singing voice. By direct family, I mean his father, his mother, and Jackie. Aunts and cousins are affected, definitely, Alastor proved such on one of their many family trips back home when he was thirteen and edgy.

- He believes it has something to do with his dad, maybe, but he can’t be too sure. If only he knew the guy more than he does right now…

- Anyway.

- If musicals was a religion, Alastor would be the cool local pastor who preaches on Sundays and actually *bakes* brownies for the fundraiser instead of buying them from the store, *Linda.*

- He loves almost all of them (almost), but will not divulge which one’s he dislikes. He’s gotta stay on brand.

- The man will go fucking off though if you let him, whether or not he’s talking about one he likes or dislikes. He has a lot to say.

- Some of his all time favorites that were on Broadway are Phantom of the Opera (it’s a classic) and Wicked. If were were going to categorize it by how good the songs are, he likes the songs from the Waitress, and Something Rotten, and the recent Beetlejuice musical.

- I think it’s safe to say that he sings those songs all the time no matter where he is or what he’s doing, even the collar that Arkham Asylum gives him that makes is so he can’t sing can’t stop him from humming them at the very least.

- When he gets upset he talks a bit faster and then the gap in his teeth gives him a front lisp.

- Whenever he starts lisping, everyone will know, cause once he realizes what he’s doing he’ll cover his mouth and look super embarrassed. (Spoiler alert: he doesn’t really like his angy lisp.)

- This is getting too long isn’t it

- What else is there I know there’s more…

- Real time, I’m fucking blanking right now

- Oh yeah I wanted to talk about kid Meister too

- Alastor, from birth to eleven, was practically an angel. He always listened to his mother, he did his homework, he ate his vegetables, and he even got that bowl haircut that his mother insisted on him having for a few years because it made him ‘Look like a little gentleman’.

- Yeah his mom was really good at embarrassing him in public.

- Speaking of his mom again, she was the one to give Alastor his first singing lesson.

- He had a heavenly set of pipes and she made sure that he knew so every day.

- His father was less than eager to do so.

- In fact, he wasn’t really involved in Alastor’s life other than having a hand in conceiving him. He always had ‘better things to do’, which always struck up arguments whenever he mentioned it to his wife.

- Alastor has never explicitly *heard* his parents argue, but he would always be able to tell when they did because his mom would send him outside to play for an hour or two. By the time he’d be back, both of his parents would be avoiding each other for the rest of the day.

- Legally, his father lost full time custody of Alastor when he was around twelve.

- It went from Mom on Sun-Wed and Dad on Thur-Sat, to Mom on Sun-Thur and Dad on Fri-Sat, until eventually, Mom obtained full custody by word of the court. Alastor doesn’t recall hearing from him ever since then.

- When it came to the bullies, Alastor was picked on for pretty much everything about his person. I mentioned his name earlier, but there was how he dressed in a sweater vest everywhere and always had a little green bowtie, his bowl cut, the gap in his teeth, his lisp (which was much more prominent until he lost his baby teeth), even his tube socks aren’t safe from them, just cause they’re a bit frilled at the tops. As explained in his very first villain song though, the main reason he got picked on was because he was a boy who sang in choir.

- At first it was rather simple bullying, verbal stuff about how much of a nerd he was, how stupid he looked, calling him a momma’s boy (as if that was a bad thing). But it quickly escalated to threats and physical violence.

- The worst was *about* to come when they were going to ruin a choir show during his solo, until the strangest thing happened.

- The bullies decided that they would let him sing a bit before enacting their plan, but as soon as Alastor saw them, he got stressed very quickly, and wished that they would just leave him alone. And to his surprise, they did. They just stood there at the last row of chairs and didn’t do anything. They didn’t even like…..emote..or move like,,, at all? Alastor really thought he’d see the guys get impatient and start fidgeting and moving around until someone gave some sort of signal and let everything go to hell, but nope. They stood there patiently during the whole solo.

- They started avoiding him after that incident, strangely. Like when you’re walking on the sidewalk, and you see someone really creepy person walking towards you on that same sidewalk, so you take the time to move to the other sidewalk? That, except Alastor was the alleged creepy person and the bullies were the person who took the time to exchange sidewalks.

- The only other time he caught them again was around half a month later? That was after class outside the school when he was waiting for his mom to pick him up from choir class. The bullies really couldn’t help themselves but make fun of his choir robes on their way out, but he was a bit more prepared for this encounter than they had anticipated.

- He started singing again, belting simple commands and making them pick things up and walk around and

- Listen.

- The power could not have gone to his head any faster.

- He made them dance intricate ballets and sing along to some of his chords, all until his mother finally drove up.

- He released the bullies, and went on with his day, solidifying his brand new status as someone to be feared.

- During his teenage years he fully embraced this status.

- Boy became a 100% certified hunk

- I mean punk

- But actually though I didn’t mean to type hunk

- All of his clothes were either ripped or leather and he grew out his hair, and he kept his sick musical note glasses from when he was young (he just got a bigger pair is what I mean, his head still grew).

- Really, he was the kid that no one would want to mess with, as well as the one your parents warned you about when you were six.

- He was a bean pole until puberty literally turned him into a box man.

- Literally though.

- His shoulders got broad, his muscles got big, and his assssests became uh, more ideal for a villain? Yes let’s go with that.

- What I’m saying is, bean became box and also he’s a part time criminal.

- He kind of just stole little things, like a pack of gum that wouldn’t be missed from those racks of stuff near the cash register at a Stop and Shop or something.

- And then he robbed a bank over the intercom, that was pretty impressive.

- Am I uh

- Am I done?

- Honestly I’m sure I’ll come up with more things eventually.

#Music Meister #long post #meister meist and the music bunch #headcanon #batman: the brave and the bold

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tariandlenasmusicblog-blog · 5 years ago

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My Mistake: An essay about IGOR, Flower of the Bride, and closure

The funny thing about getting older is that you don’t fully appreciate how removed you are from a version of yourself until you look in the mirror. Sometimes that mirror is literal, and you get to explore all the grooves, bumps, and sharp angles that reflect a body in flux. Other times, that mirror is figurative, and you get caught in a staring match with a phantom self with the emotional heft of a lifetime of joys and regrets. I’m struck by a similar feeling when sitting and listening to Father of the Bride and IGOR back to back. The gap between the two albums feels like the gap between the self I once was and the self that I am becoming; between yearning and something approaching peace.

Let’s start with IGOR, Tyler The Creator’s new album. The stark pink and monochrome artwork is fitting for an album that marries tenderness with an abrasive whiplash. Starting with “IGOR’S THEME”, Tyler’s strategy is to set the tone with thick distorted synth chords, sweet, high-pitched vocals and a tight breakbeat to before breaking into soft piano chords to mirror that contrast. The only lyrics on the track are “riding round town/make ‘em feel this one”, which feels appropriate. The feeling he’s communicating is clear: the heartrending tension of a tortured type of romance. The story on the album seems to be one of unrequited or rejected love, which forces the protagonist (the eponymous Igor) into finding a form of resolution, however unsatisfying it might be.

The production on the album is gorgeous: the drums are crisp; the synths are overwhelming one minute and delicate the next. The album is stacked with guest vocalists from Playboi Carti to Solange to Charlie Wilson to Kanye West, but they are all subsumed into Tyler’s larger symphonic vision which, to my surprise, does not feature his signature gravelly rasp very often. Instead, we hear his voice pitched up on “EARFQUAKE” and “RUNNING OUT OF TIME”, singing (sometimes atonally) with great vulnerability and strain. Even on more conventional rap tracks like “A BOY IS A GUN*” he peels back the layers of distortion and anger that used to mask his longing, opting instead to beg “don’t shoot me down.” He’s scared and vulnerable. He still lashes out on “NEW MAGIC WAND” and “WHAT’S GOOD”, but even there his anger sounds justified and earned where it once felt gratuitous and underdeveloped.

The album closes with three of the most tender, direct songs that he’s ever written. “GONE, GONE/THANK YOU” starts with a cherubic voice almost rejoicing that “my love’s gone” before that elation descends musically (and lyrically) into a depressed resignation. That musical descent may be the most beautiful moment of Tyler’s career, and unwinds the tension built throughout the first nine tracks on the album. Jerrod Carmichael, his occasional interlocutor on the album, steps in briefly to proclaim: “I hate wasted potential/That shit crushes your spirit,” before the track concludes with a sarcastic thanks for poisoning the protagonist from ever wanting to love again.

After a brief, almost meditative repetition of the mantra “I DON’T LOVE YOU ANYMORE”, the album concludes with its showpiece: a classic anthem of longing in 6/8 time called “ARE WE STILL FRIENDS?” Tyler evokes about 50 years of soul music in his own way, pleading for any kind of meaningful connection with the person he just cannot quit. It is revelatory in its catharsis and flips an entire career arc of obsessive rebellion on its head by being as conventional and relatable as possible. No, Tyler cannot sing, and this track exposes that fact more than any that come before. Somehow, that adds to the charm. He sounds like you or I in the same position, bleating atonally along to a kind of invented karaoke for one.

Despite this relatability, however, IGOR does not hit me in the way that I expected. It feels very much like an album built for a past version of me: a confused, deeply emotional guy who did not really know how to love but tried hard anyway. It’s the best, most mature album Tyler has ever made. It might be the best album of the year. But when I listen, I am not drawn in. Instead, I feel a glassy distance akin to reading heartbroken letters a past me once wrote to another. (Yeah, I did that in preparation for this essay. Yeah, it was weird.)

I feel precisely the opposite when I listen to Father Of The Bride by Vampire Weekend. Billed as an album of questioning and commitment in the shadow of parenthood, the double-album hits me like a sucker punch to the face. It is as harmonically rich as IGOR, but the sugar rush is delivered in a more conventional, familiar package of jam-band acoustic guitars, skyscraping choruses and baroque codas. The band sounds more like The Band than ever before, largely abandoning their Afropop fakery for a melange that sounds earnest and reflective of a newfound confidence in Ezra Koenig’s songwriting.

That confidence is carried over to the lyrics. Gone are the precious reflections on Ivy League life, and in their place is a sense of wonder about the beauty of life, and the fear of its impending collapse. “Big Blue” is about being overawed by the vastness of the world, and about how confusing that vastness can be, while “Unbearably White” is a tender reflection on emotional distance and how it can wreck relationships. Koenig and co. aren’t afraid of swinging for the fences with cinematic string arrangements on “Rich Man” or lighter-waving ballads like “Jerusalem, New York, Berlin”.

Not all of it works. Two of the three collaborations with Danielle Haim, “Married in a Gold Rush” and “We Belong Together” are sickly-sweet, sounding more like outtakes from the Cheaper By The Dozen 2 soundtrack than comfortable in 2019. The autotune and djembe at the beginning of “Spring Snow”, meanwhile, sounds like Vampire Weekend-by-numbers.

But when it does work, it’s the best music that the band has ever produced. “Harmony Hall” is a near-perfect pop song with a piano that sounds like it was cribbed from a 1989 WHAM! song and the catchiest chorus I’ve heard in years. “Bambina” switches from razor-sharp indie-pop to a hymn a step removed from Pachelbel’s Canon, yet the change of pace between the two feels like a reflection on the devotional absurdity detailed in the lyrics. The stretch of songs from “My Mistake” to “Flower Moon” is superlative: elegant, whimsical, silly, and depressing all at once.

It’s precisely those songs that knock me off my feet, and those songs that expose the distance between where I was and where I am headed. The contortions and wrangling of the past have been replaced with a gentler form of acceptance about the absurdity of life. The biggest questions about who I am and where I’m headed are at least grounded in a sense of perspective. I know I am not alone in sometimes feeling alone. I know that our collective existence is precarious, and I still choose to live as if the important conversations in my life can be resolved by burying my head in the sand. I’m flawed, but I’m alive, and I’m trying. When I look back at that spectral mirror image that IGOR represents then, I feel peace. Life now feels more like “My Mistake”: it’s gentler, more reflective, and underpinned with the subtle echoes of the regrets that I will never displace. Those are the regrets that made me. I don’t have the answers to how to live and love well. I probably never will. But the Earth will keep spinning in its own, blocky, clip-art kind of way. Perhaps that’s the point.

#music blog #fotb #igor #vampire weekend #tyler the creator #personal essay

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