#Holly Book Signing: Los Angeles

[joe9cool]

Collide- Epilogue 2- Lost in This Moment With You

A/N This is fan fiction purposes only. I do not know anyone on or associated with The Chargers. Also you do not have my permission to post my work anywhere else.

BREAKING: SARA WOZNIAK IS REPORTEDLY ENGAGED TO JUSTIN HERBERT!

ET EXCLUSIVE; SARA WOZNIAK IS ENGAGED TO NFL PRO JUSTIN HERBERT

Wedding bells are in the air for the [TV show] actress 28 and the Los Angeles Chargers Quarterback 26. The couple are engaged. People exclusively reported the news as the Academy Award nominee was spotted around LA wearing a sparkler on that finger.

A TIMELINE OF SARA WOZNIAK AND JUSTIN HERBERT'S RELATIONSHIP.

PATRICK HERBERT, JUSTIN HERBERT'S BROTHER COMMENTS ON SARA WOZNIAK ENGAGEMENT. "I'M VERY HAPPY FOR THEM."

There it was, the news now public. Justin and Sara had made the decision to go public with the news shortly after Sara's birthday. Both phones were blowing up like crazy, their management teams containing all of the press and requests for comments. Sara had begun wearing her ring in public, which was splashed all over tabloids as she walked the red carpet for the Royal Film Awards. People thought it was Sara's style, some thought it was ugly, others thought it was creative.

They were bombarded with packages from every designer, every venue far and wide, roses and expensive gifts from celeb brands and friends with personal boxes congratulating them. Some were cute, others were obnoxious and they had a laugh as they tore through them. There were even gifts for Eugene and Nova, as they made appearances on her social media.

The planning began, and they hired a low key wedding planner, someone who wasn't known for working with big celebrities.

They had a date set and stone.

May 24th 2025 in Oregon at Bandon Dunes Golf Resort.

It was gorgeous and overlooking the coast. It was to be a full wedding weekend, with rehearsal, then the wedding, then a brunch to send the couple off to their honeymoon.

With everything booked, and save the dates being sent out next week, Sara could breathe some sigh of relief. They were in Pittsburgh, along with Justin's family for their engagement party that her parents were throwing at their house.

There were people everywhere, all of their friends and families. While her fathers side had nobody (Willa and her family were cut off) her mom had many siblings, cousins and friends who had children that grew up with the girls. Her dad had his friends, his business associates and clients who got to know the family and watched Sara grow up.

It was funny, because Sara always faded into the background with these kinds of get-togethers, most people didn't really care. But now, all eyes were on her and Justin, and they were both uncomfortable, it was a classic case of being careful what you wish for.

Back in Oregon, Mark and Holly threw a casual barbecue get together with Justin's side. His buddies from Oregon came, and Sara found herself blending in with them all so well. She laughed at the jokes and old stories they told, and teased Justin making him bright red at times. Her family didn't come to that, and she was glad as she didn't want to overwhelm the Herbert family at their house.

But now, they were all in her territory. Patrick and Mitch and their girlfriends, eyes widened at the big house that sat on secluded acre land. "Oh my god." Sara groaned as Justin drove up on the pebble-stone driveway.

Big white balloons were tied to the mailbox. Flowers lined up the driveway. Pink roses, her favorite. Cars were already parked, which meant a ton of people. Guests were already on the side of the house underneath a tent. There was a bartender with a full bar. Patrick laughed as he saw more balloons of rings and 'she said yes' sign above the door. "Oh man, we are wayyy out of our element."

Once parked and out of the car, they walked into the house, where tons of people were chatting. A sign that was held on a canopy.

Celebrate two lives becoming one,

Welcome to Justin & Sara's Engagement Party.

"There's the bride and groom!" Her uncle shouted, and all eyes were on them. They were passed around in hugs. Next thing they knew they were wearing 'Bride' and 'Groom' sashes (Sara knew Justin would never hear the end of it from his brothers)

Cathy introduced the Herbert family to everyone and quickly, they understood why Sara stayed away.

"We never thought she was going to find someone!"

"Can't believe she is going to be getting married! When I saw she adopted her cat I told my husband we should start worrying."

The group all laughed and Justin was immediately uncomfortable. "So tell us, son." Another guy continued. "Why her? I mean professional athletes you could have supermodels! I don't understand it."

Justin had enough. "Well you don't have to understand anything. We love each other and she's the most beautiful woman inside and out. Now excuse me." He walked away from the group to find Sara, heading into the kitchen where he ran Into his mom and dad speaking with one of her cousins. Once she walked away they turned to her son. "Wow. Her extended family sure is…" Holly started.

"Interesting." Justin finished. Not wanting to really say what he was thinking.

"How on God's name is Sara so cool and she comes from a family like this?" Patrick walked up with Carly.

"Patrick!" Carly scolded.

"What? It's true." Pat shrugged. "It is. But we don't need to say it out loud." Carly took a sip of her drink.

"Did you know what her cousin just said to us?" Mark scoffed. "Boy aren't you glad that the bride's family is paying. You wouldn't be able to afford all of this." He mocked her voice. Everyone's eyes widened. "What?" Justin's face was stern.

"That's nothing. Isabelle is calming Mitch down after what one of the old wall street dudes said about Sara." Justin faced his younger brother. "What did he say?"

"Uh.. it should probably wait til we leave." Carly saw Justin's anger and hoped her boyfriend got the hint."

He didn't. "He made a disgusting comment about hoping Sara went with a form fitting dress, one that accentuated her… he said her gifted chest…" He trailed off, not wanting to totally repeat the gross comment about his future sister in law.

Justin's face was red. "Point him out. I want to talk to him." Mark grabbed him. "Son now is not the time or place. Let's just get through this evening."

"Hey guys! Having fun?" Sara walked up to the group,and instantly everyone could see Justin look relaxed. She looked gorgeous, in a white jumpsuit with white lace heels. Her hair was styled to perfection. Justin squeezed her hand. "Yes babe, everything is great."

"Oh there they are! The bride and groom to be!" Two middle aged women walked up and hugged Sara. "Linda, Delilah, this is my fiance Justin, his parents Mark and Holly and his brother Patrick and his girlfriend Carly. Where's Mitch and Isabelle?" She looked around. "I Guess they are around somewhere, but these are my mom's friends."

"Congratulations baby girl!"  The two ladies smiled, then addressed the others. "We watched her grow up. To be honest, we thought she would never find someone!"

Justin bit his lip, this was the theme of the night. Everyone just loved to mention how they thought it was impossible for Sara to find someone. Sara just smiled. "Yeah that's what everyone has been saying."

"I mean, can you blame us?" They laughed, while the Herbert family stayed quiet. "So anyways. Where are you having the wedding? Mansions in the fifth are beautiful for weddings. Or are you thinking of New York like Ryan and Michelle?"

Sara smiled. "Actually. We are getting married in Oregon, at the golf course hotel off the coast" She looked up at Justin, who smiled down at her.

The one wrinkled her nose. "Sweetie, not there, Oregon is so redneck, and just not it. Trust me, you cannot have a nice wedding in Oreg-"

"Justin and his family live in Eugene." Sara bit back. Linda's eyes widened. "Oh really? Wow I'm so sorry. Well I'm sure it's beautiful if you live there." She covered up her insult with another insult. She then changed topics. "I see you haven't eaten."

"Oh I'm going to make a plate, I've been running around greeting everyone-"

"Well that's a good thing. You need as much weight off as you can to fit in the dress. I can actually give you the name of Macy's trainer, she will make you the thinnest you have ever been!" She pinched Sara's arm. "Tone up those arms!"

"Linda! Delilah! Can you help me with something?" Cathy called over her friends and they left. Holly addressed Sara. "Are you okay?"

Sara shook her head. "Yeah why do you ask?" Justin put his arms on her shoulders.  Mark cut in. "Those comments they made, and everyone else."

"Oh those! Yeah trust me I got used to it. I've heard shit like that my whole life." She grabbed a champagne flute off a waiter's tray. "If they say anything to you. Please let me know. I'll put them in their place."

Mark shook his head. "You shouldn't have to deal with that."

She waved her hand. "It's fine. Why do you think we chose Bandon Dunes?" She looked at Justin and he smiled at her. "The max is 190 people, but we will probably only have 100. Keep it close to family and friends."

"Have you two chosen the bridal party yet?" Holly asked.

"Yes, it's going to be 8 people on both sides. Our ask boxes are done, we just need to hand them out." Justin looked at Pat, "You and Mitch are obviously my best men."

Before they could say anything else Cathy yelled for the family to join in pictures. They had a professional photographer gather both immediate family and their partners, gathered under the big balloon arch. Then it was Sara's side, then Justin's then just the soon to be married couple and their parents. Once that was done Justin was pulled to have a celebratory cigar with Mike and his friends/business partners, while Sara was in the kitchen with her mom and sisters.

"So you guys settled on a venue? In Oregon." Sara didn't miss the tone of disappointment in her moms voice. She knew that it bothered Cathy that her youngest became closer to her fiance's side of the family. Sara popped a grape from the table in her mouth. "Yes, it's more low-key, and it's on a golf course. Plus it will be more convenient for Justin's family."

The Wozniak's had a ton of money, whereas the Herbert's were just a middle class family. So Sara wanted to be more accommodating to his family. Plus she was hoping it would deter a lot of friends and family from coming. She wanted to enjoy her day, Katie and Brittany spent most of their time going around and talking to people and thanking them. Alyssa had a small Vineyard wedding and got to enjoy her day.

That was what she wanted.

"There are so many gorgeous golf courses and hotels around the area. With all your connections and us paying for it. We could easily have four hundred people." Sara practically choked on her drink. "Yeah… uh that sounds terrible. But also mom, me and Justin can pay for our wedding."

"There's no doubt about that… but we didn't pay for your college.." She trailed off and everyone knew what she meant.

"It's fine. I got this. The venue is booked, I'm meeting with Valentino to design my dress. Justin and I have our bridal party picked. Our wedding planner is set. Easy peasy."

Brent walked up, hearing the last of the conversation. "Oh you naive fool." He kissed his sister in law on the cheek. "Sorry I'm late, you look gorgeous." He held up a bridal gift bag. "I'll set this on the massive gift pile in the dining room."

Sara was shocked. "I thought I said no gifts!" She followed Brent to the dining room and gasped as she saw the massive pile of perfectly wrapped presents, bags, and envelopes covering the massive table.

Brent snorted. "These people never listen. Any chance they can to flex their money they will." He laughed as he looked over the pile. "Damn I see a Waterford Crystal bag. Alyssa and I didn't even get that."

She laughed. She loved Brent, and Justin got along with him well, so well that he planned on asking the hockey player to be in his party.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------

Mike passed around Cigars to the group of trustees or whatever they were. Mark and Mitch were there, Mark taking one Justin and Mitch refused. He wasn't a smoker, it was way too toxic. Luckily Mike didn't press the issue. "Isn't Cathy going to be upset?" Justin raised his brows as he watched the group light theirs. Mike shrugged. "What Cathy doesn't know won't hurt her, besides I've done this with all of my daughters' weddings."

Charles walked up and took one of the cigars from the box on the patio furniture. Overlooking the crowd, one of the men spoke up. "Thought we'd never see the day Mike. I always thought Alyssa was the last one."

Mike nodded. "Believe me I thought that too." He clapped Justin on the back. "You sure you can handle her son?"

Justin laughed. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't love her."

"I'm glad. She deserves someone like you." Mike took a puff.

Another older, pudgy man cut in. "See my son over there?" Justin followed his finger to see a man in his thirties, scowling at Sara, who was a few tables over talking to her friends "He has the biggest crush on her. I tried to set them up but your daughter wasn't interested."

Justin's turn to scowl. How inappropriate was that to say in front of her fiancé? Suddenly he remembered Sara talking about a man hitting on her and attempting to set her up with his kid. Was this the guy from the steakhouse?

Mike shook his head. "Oh for the love of God let it go. You have been trying to set them up since they were teenagers. She doesn't want your son. They were interrupted by someone calling for Mike and he excused himself.

After a few minutes of silence the pudgy man kept talking. "You're a lucky son of bitch Justin."

His eyebrows rose. "I know." He spoke icily. He was hoping the man dropped it after that.

"The way she's going to fill out that dress is gonna be the main attraction for sure."

Maybe it was the fact that this dude knew Sara as a small child and was now saying inappropriate things about her, maybe it was the alcohol, or the fact that all afternoon he has to listen to the love of his life get cut up and made fun of and he finally snapped.

Before anyone could say anything, Justin was in the guy's face. Everyone around was frozen in fear. "Listen." He spoke slowly. "You will never get to see how MY WIFE looks on her day because you and your son won't be invited, and if you say one more comment about her I will throw you over this porch. I don't give a fuck if youre my father in laws associates. In fact I think he wouldn't take very kindly to you talking about his daughter like that, or the night at the steakhouse. Understood?" The older man's eyes widened, confirming he was the steakhouse guy.

The man, terrified, nodded. "Um yes. Umm I think me and Jonathan should go. Congratulations again." He walked off to gather his wife and son. Justin turned to the other men who had looks of shock on their faces. "That goes for all of you too. Understood?" They all nodded and went their separate ways besides Mark and Mitch. Justin was breathing heavily and Mark went to comfort him. "Good job son, that guy was an ass."

"Is everything okay?" They all looked to see Sara coming up the steps, looking worried as she approached Justin. "Gerald and Jonathan just came up to me asking what I saw in you?"

He saw red. Quickly turning, he went to find him but was held back by Sara, or as much as she could. "Hey hey baby what's wrong?" She got in front of him and stared at him with her big brown eyes and he felt himself melt. Bending down to kiss her, he blushed when the cheers of the crowd that had gathered around them.

"Awww that's so cute!"

"Practicing for the big day I see!"

—-------------------------------------------------------------------

"You both look gorgeous!" Pierpaolo greeted Sara and grabbed her hand to admire the ring. "Stunning. It fits you so well, and with the emeralds!" He looked at Justin. "You sir, did an excellent job!"

He blushed. "My brother's girlfriend helped a lot, I just knew I had to incorporate emeralds somehow."

The designer hummed. "Are the wedding bands going to have them too?"

"We were talking about it. We had a virtual consultation with the jeweler about the bands." Sara cut in.

"You can tell us all about it, come on! We have a lot of people wanting to celebrate with you!" He ushered the couple to the backyard of his massive mansion. Once the Pittsburgh celebration was over, Pierpaolo and his family insisted on a luncheon to celebrate their engagement.

Of course Sara insisted he keep it small, but designers never listened, and all of Sara's celeb friends, as well as others who just wanted it to be there for a social event were there.

Sara sensed Justin's anxiousness and grabbed his hand as they made it out to the backyard. They were dressed for the occasion, with Sara wearing a white halter dress mixed with green that Valentino designed, the straps made up of diamonds. Her hair was done up and she looked gorgeous. Justin looked handsome as well in a tailored suit.

They were met with tons of greetings from Timothee, Rosie and Jason, AnnSophie, Bella, and others. There were about fifty people, and it seemed small and intimate. Everyone mingled, and then they all sat down for a four course meal. While enjoying their meal Rosie spoke. "So I was doing a cover shoot for vogue and I overheard something from Anna."

Pierpaolo gasped. "You know Anna would blacklist you if she heard you speaking about confidential matters."

She waved her hand, "Please. But anyways, Anna wants to do a massive vogue feature on your wedding!"

Sara's eyes widened while Justin nearly choked on his wine. "Oh wow. That's amazing. I will definitely have to consider it."

"What's there to consider? Do you know how many people would love that! Plus they would set you up big. You know Anna, she would make sure that you have the best venue. Beverly Hills has the best hotel for weddings. It hosts for 500 people, plus Wolfgang Puck would cater."

Sara pushed her salad around. "I mean, we have already decided to get married in Justin’s home state, more private and lowkey."

"Well I suppose Anna could do something with that. You're from Washington right? She acknowledged Justin.

"Oregon, actually."

"Ooh that's different, I've never been there before, so Jason and I will have fun exploring when we arrive. Justin's eyebrows shot up. He glanced briefly at Sara, who was trying to hold back a small laugh. "Yeah its beautiful."

The rest of the night went by smoothly. Finally they departed, using Justin’s excuse to get ready for camp. Pierpaolo assistants loaded their car with gifts from the guest. Apparently no one liked to listen

When they got home, they tacked on the boxes in the guest room (they still haven't opened the ones from Pittsburgh, but Sara sent out thank you notes)

Justin looked over at Sara, "I'm off tomorrow before camp starts, should we tear these babies open?" Not saying a word, she walked over to the fridge and opened it. She held up a bottle of their favorite wine. "We need some encouragement to open these, especially from my family."

Taking sips straight from the bottle, Justin grabbed all of the gifts from the guest bed and began to open them. They opened the cards first and were pleased to see that whoever gave money to local charities in their honor.

The first box was wrapped delicately and while all of them were most likely professionally wrapped, there was a homey touch to this and Sara squealed knowing exactly who this was from. It was from her Great Aunt Kay, who at the age of ninety, still had a very sharp mind and could quilt with the best of them. All of the nieces that married were given a king sized quilt made by her, showing their personalities. They opened it and unfolded the custom quilt. It was white, with silver edges and in cursive at one corner, Justin and Sara Herbert.

"Wow." Justin whispered, feeling the luxurious material. He had met her Aunt Kay at the engagement party, and she was the sweetest lady. "This is beautiful." Taking it from Sara, he draped it over their bed before returning back to the pile where Eugene and Nova were inspecting to see if any of the gifts were for them. "Spoiled brats." Sara shooed them away, only for them to come straight back.

Justin grabbed the next gift, which was very oddly shaped and untied the bow, opening the purple wrapping, it was a gift basket that someone had put together.

Candles, crystals, prenatal vitamins, and pregnancy tests? "uhh" He turned it to face his fiancé, whose eyes widened. "Oh my god that's from my cousin Siobhan! She's a doula and very into all that! She gave my sister's one! It's all good luck with fertility!" She shook her head, "all of the women on my moms side including my sisters have gotten pregnant in the first six months! It's something of a weird tradition."

He laughed and tore the clear wrapping to get a better look at everything. He looked at the crystals as she explained each one relating to pregnancy and childbirth. "I didn't know you were into crystals"

She shrugged. "I mean I'm not an avid believer, but I think there is some truth, and she constantly talks about them all the time." There were two boxes of clearblue pregnancy tests, a small gray bear, and two candles as well as pregnancy booklets.

"Yeah those are definitely going in storage. We agreed on no kids until at least the first year." He nodded and put it off to the side before continuing.

There were household items, which was silly because living together they had pretty much acquired everything. Sara unboxed a big sign that read 'The Herbert's' established 2025. She giggled as Justin rolled his eyes at the corny item. Sara opened a grill kit followed by a voucher for a cooking class. Justin frowned. "You're a great cook." She laughed. "I think it's a case of something we can both do." Along the lines there were a ton of marriage books, cook books. Sara blushed as she pulled out tons of lingerie and skimpy night shirts, Justin examining every piece. "Oh my god!" She cried out pulling out a powder blue lace baby doll piece. It was completely see through, and the underwear was like a jersey with 'Herbert' and '10' on the butt.

He hummed as Sara held it up to her. "I'm definitely tearing that off. Matter of fact I think you should model it right now, make sure everything fits." He smiled. "If it doesn't I can rip it right now." He laughed as he dodged the balled up wrapping paper she threw at him.

After everything from her family and friends were opened they moved on to the small boxes from celebrities. Immediately Justin was floored. "Rolex watches? Who the fuck gives Rolex watches as an engagement gift."

Sara laughed. "Hollywood does." She opened a crystal vase, no doubt very expensive.

There was a grand total of at least $500,000 in gifts and despite being with Sara two years, he wasn't used to it. He almost fainted when Sara took him to meet Christopher Nolan.

Justin opened the last gift, which was a PR package. "Hell yes!" It was tons of Nike clothing, which included matching Bride and Groom Nike sweats for him and Sara. "This is awesome! I'll wear this on our wedding day!"

"You wear that at the altar and I'll walk backwards."

—--------------------------------------------------------------

Wedding planning was no joke.

It was October, and Justin was on a high professionally. The Chargers were ahead of the  Chiefs in the division, thanks to the win against them on the road.

However, personally, he was very worried.

Sara was working on promotional events, followed by wedding planning. He tried to help as much as he could by picking out the place settings (he didn't even know that was a thing) food. (Some people were vegetarian/vegan, others had dietary restrictions.) They finalized the dessert buffet and picked out the cake and the flavors.

He knew that her family was giving her a hard time about the location. They were worried her Aunt Kay wouldn't be able to travel to the west coast and in the midst of an argument with one of her sisters they called her selfish which left her in tears. (Justin had a mind to fly to Pittsburgh and give them a piece of his mind)

Then there was the issue of the officiant. Justin wasn't tied to any denomination, but Sara was technically raised catholic and made all of her sacraments, so they wanted her to be married in a church. That meant Justin would have to take classes and be baptized, and he would be willing to do it, but with the demands of the season it would mean punishing the whole wedding back a year. Something both he and his fiance didn't want.

The biggest upset was that Sara was in Cannes promoting a new film she was in. On an off day she went diving with some friends and was wearing a bikini.

There were pictures, and edited ones to make her look bad to the press. The comments calling her fat, her social media comments had to be limited, and she had to take a break.

Not to mention Taylor was taking joy in this She was throwing subtle shade at Sara in every way, so much so that there were news articles written about it.

She wore similar outfits that Sara wore and put shady captions, and liked comments that were trashing her. Justin wasn't stupid, he knew that got to her. While they were very much past it, it still hurt her to see her being attacked so lowly.

When he confronted his fiancé, she laughed it off, saying she had the ring and she was nothing but a jealous bitch. He knew her like the back of his hand. Not to mention her actions spoke otherwise.  

When she wasn't away she was constantly in the Chargers gym working out, she would come with him early in the morning and be a sweating, panting mess by the time he would check in on her.

It was so noticeable that a trainer pulled him aside. "We need to talk about Sara…." He started. "I know this is probably not my place, but she is overexerting herself. She got off the treadmill today and she nearly collapsed. I gave her a Gatorade but she refused, saying it's too much sugar."

"Oh my god." Justin walked by him and off the field, and quickly found one of the rooms, where Sara was hunched over, seemingly struggling to breathe.

He called out for help, and got down on his knees. "Baby. What's wrong?" The team doctor was there immediately and got Sara to sit up. He shined a light in her eyes before pinching the skin on her arm. "She's dehydrated, not enough electrolytes." The doctor shook his head. "We got to get you into the room so I can start an IV. Can you walk?"

She nodded, still breathing heavily before standing up for a second and falling back, immediately Justin lifted her in his arms and carried her to the recovery room, where the doctor started an IV. "Have you eaten today?"

She nodded. "I had a hard boiled egg and some avocado toast" the doctor shook his head, and the trainer spoke. "She's been on the stairmaster for an hour."

Justin's eyes widened. "Babe!" He looked over at her, who looked down "that is enough for that much workout. You know how I eat "

"I'm sorry, okay! Me and all of the bridesmaids got measurements this Wednesday for our dresses! I wanna look good."

"And you will! Sara I'm still going to be at the end of the aisle no matter what!" He shook his head. "Please, If you want to tone up that's fine. But this way isn't healthy and you know it."

At this point it was just the two of them in the room. She looked down. "I'm sorry, I'm just stressed. Everyone and everything is coming down on me, and work too."

"I'm sorry I haven't been around to help." She sighed. "It's not you, you have been more involved than most men, and you've been taking care of everything on your side with the groomsmen. I really didn't know what I was up against."

"What is the final count with the guest list?"

"Two hundred and fifteen people." Sorting out the list was hard. Justin's family was pretty decent sized. Sara didn't have too many family, but she did have friends, and so did he, plus Mike and Cathy did get to invite a couple family friends who Sara actually liked. They invited Jerry and his wife, both management teams, some of Justin's teammates and coaches and other people from the celebrity world. He snorted. "We can only hope many people don't come."

She laughed and he smiled, before kissing her quickly. "I'm taking you home" and then when I get off I'll bring home dinner. What do you want?"

"Salad sounds good." He gave her a look. He also knew she was dieting like crazy, when he noticed the absence of certain foods in the house. She sighed. "A burger and fries please. With a side salad."

He smiled. "There's my girl." I'll be right back

@DanielPopper: Herbert was called off of the field for a bit. He's back on now, maybe had something to do with his fiance, who I'm told has been coming to practices.

@user1: sounds excessive

@user2: why is she even there? So worried your man is going to cheat?

@user3: @user 2 Maybe she just wanted to spend time with him?

@user4: I don't understand why he chose her over Biscotti.

Liked by Taylor biscotti

—----------------------------------------------------------

"Doesn't she have a man? Why is she still so concerned with yours?" AnnSophie was helping taste test some of the food. The hotel, excited to host a marriage for the King of the state and his a list bride, where more than accommodating. Allowing them to bring in their own chef and catering for the day and shutting down the hotel for the weekend. Sara and Justin paid a decent price and would make sure to tip and send a thank you note to all the staff when it was all said and done.

"I don't know." Sara took a bite of the mushroom soup as one of the starters. "Ooh Annie this one is soo good!"  Her friend stuck her fork into the bowl and tasted it. "That is delicious. Does Justin like mushrooms?" Sara made a face. "I think so.." shooting a quick text to her fiance, she sighed. "I swear we should have eloped like you guys."

Her friend laughed, "Once the hoopla and the shock dies down its worth it. My mom's still pissed though." Sara rolled her eyes. "Yeah but your mom is a bitch and never liked Joey and tried to keep you guys apart."

"True." Sara's phone dinged and she picked it up. Reading the message, she wrinkled her nose. "Justin said no mushroom soup. He likes chicken noodles."

"How about you put the menu choices on the invitations? Let the guests decide?"

"And what If they don't mark anything?" Her friend shrugged. "Then they get what they get." Sara's phone dinged again and she grabbed it. "Oh it's Bella sending me a photo of her dress!" For the bridesmaids Valentino made sure they were done first and quickly. Sara chose sage green, satin material, and a loose, comfortable fit. They were beautiful, and so far the bridesmaids loved them. She was a little worried for her sisters and Isabelle, who had to send in their measurements because they were on the east coast. But Pierpaolo was a genius, and every girl looked gorgeous in their gown.

"So what is the timeline for the ceremony?" Sara was marking stuff down to send to catering. "Well, our ceremony is at 3:00pm. Give people and us enough time to get ready and take pictures, then cocktail hour is 3:30ish, then the reception starts at 4:30-9pm, then the after party begins at 9:15pm" She smiled devilishly. She wanted a few hours of debauchery with their friends and to play whatever music she wanted. "Get this, it's gonna be somewhat of a throwback 2010s emo party."

"No fucking way!" AnnSophie's eyes widened. "That's so cool!" Sara nodded. "And best believe me, I'm dancing on Justin."

"Girl he is going to be so red!" She nodded evilly. "I'm twerking on him for sure!"

—-------------------------------------------------------------

"So your mom sent me a copy of the vows she wanted the minister to read." Justin got into bed after a long day. Sara looked up from her IPad. "Oh god." She rolled her eyes and pet Nova, who was laying on her stomach. "I told her I didn't want a catholic ceremony. You know how long those are? An hour! Not to mention there is nothing personal about the couple! It's the same Bible verses and music! And my heels are sky high! I'm not standing that long!"

He laughed before pulling the text up on his phone. "I told her the ceremony is about thirty minutes, and we need the time for our vows. She wasn't too happy about that. But here it is." He gave her his phone and she read it, her nose wrinkling. "What's up?"

"For you it says 'love and honor you' , for me it says 'love, honor, and obey.' I'm not obeying shit, I don't even obey my dad." Justin busted out laughing. "You were sure to obey last week." He nuzzled his face in her neck and knew she was red.

"Well I'll just tell everyone I'm only obeying in the bedroom." He pulled back. "You wouldn't."

She laughed. "Watch me."  He growled and bit a spot on her neck and she squealed. "You know the week of the wedding you cant leave any bites"

He huffed. "What's the point of a fancy expensive makeup artist then?" She swatted at him. "Have you gotten the suits?"

"Yes. What about the bridesmaid dresses?"

She nodded. "They all pretty much have theirs, I'm going to New York next week with my mom, Katie, and Brittany  for the first dress fitting." She smiled. "I'm excited. I trust Pierpaolo with my vision."

"Can I get a peak?" She looked at him like he had four heads. "Absolutely not. You don't get to see my dress until the day." He huffed and she laughed. He tried a different tactic, snuggling into her neck. "Please." He whispered before kissing her neck. She moaned as he dragged his lips to a particular spot he knew she lined. "Just at least tell me some hints"

She needed a few minutes to get her thoughts together but then finally spoke. "It's A- line style, lace" He stopped and sat up. "I have to Google it." He admitted and she busted out laughing. "Baby please wait until the first look. I promise it will be worth the wait."

He smiled. "You always look good. So I'm extremely excited."

—---------------------------------------------------------------------

"Oh Sara" Cathy gasped as Sara came out of the dressing room and stepped up on the platform, the assistant carrying the cathedral train. "God it feels so real seeing you in the dress." Brittany wiped her eyes, Katie was holding the phone as Alyssa was on facetime back in St.Louis.

Upon looking at herself in the mirror, it did feel real. Standing in the dress she would be wearing as both parents walked her down the aisle. Sara found herself getting emotional as this was the dress she always pictured herself in. It was simple, not too much for an outdoor ceremony by the coast. It was off the shoulder, hiding her broadness, it had a slight train and Pierpaolo suggested a long, cathedral lace veil.

It was a-line, like she wanted, not too puffy, but enough to give her the princess feel and still flatter her shape. "Now how are we doing the hair?" The assistant asked as she fluffed the train. Sara thought about it. "I honestly don't know, I have a hair trial tomorrow with Jonathan." Jonathan Van Ross was one of Sara's friends who offered his services for the wedding. "He thinks I should do a half up, half down thing. Like Kate Middleton"

Her mom cut in. "I still think we should do a soft updo. Sara sighed. "Well we will see tomorrow, don't forget to visit the jeweler for the wedding pieces, and the florist for the flowers and bouquets."

Once the appointment was finished, and the assistant made the final markings of where it needed to be tailored and with the custom made sky high heels Sara was in (she needed all the height standing next to Justin at the altar) Sara and her mom and sisters were walking the streets of New York. It was still early morning, so many people were on their way to work and couldn't stop and notice the famous celebrity bundled up in the chilly air.

The shrill ring of her phone began playing, and Sara looked to see it was Vogue's office, she sighed and answered. "Hello?"

"Hello Ms. Wozniak, I am the personal assistant to Anna Wintour, and she requested you and your family's presence at her brownstone for lunch this afternoon." Sara's eyes widened. Stopping to look back at her group, she put her hand on the mouth piece. "Anna Wintour wants us to have lunch with her later at her place."

"What!" Even after almost ten years of their sister being famous they were still in awe of the megastar she was. Who just gets invited to The editor of vogue's house on a whim? They nodded and she went back to her phone. "Yes, we accept. Um, what time should we be there?"

"Anna will send a car for you all to the hotel at noon." Okay so they had three hours. She didn't know how Anna knew they were all in town or what hotel they were at. Probably someone from the Valentino team tipped her off.

Window shopping was limited, but they managed to make it back to their hotel and be ready by the time the limo arrived. They walked to the car amid all the photographers outside, and their cars following them.

They were ushered inside the massive brownstone. Servants were walking briskly and carrying trays. "Wow." Katie whispered.

Upon walking into the living room, there were greeted by Anna herself, always fashionable and looking like she belonged in vogue herself. After exchanging greetings, they were relocated in the dining room. Anna immediately began asking Sara about wedding planning.

Sara cringed inside as the food was being placed in front of them. Lemon arugula salad and champagne for the first course. She now knew why Anna called her up at the last minute and insisted she and her family come.

She turned down the vogue offer shortly after Rosie mentioned overhearing the news. An extravagant, luxurious box came in the mail. It was a spa package for her and Justin, full of the most expensive facials and massage treatments from around the world. "What the hell is a gold facial?" Justin asked when reading the description, his eyes widened at the price he looked up. "Worth $500,000!"

Sara had wanted to send it back, but Heidi strongly advised against it, saying. "You can turn down the front cover offer, but you NEVER ever return a girl sent front Vogue or Anna herself. You will get blacklisted from all fashion shows." Thankfully Heidi worked in fashion PR before working for celebs.

She had hand written a note to Anna appreciating the offer and the gift, but at this time she would have to decline. Word spread around the fashion world and the press fast, and while many people praised Sara for wanting a private wedding and not wanting it splashed everywhere, others critiqued her for thinking people cared that much. They called her an entitled bitch, and Justin didn't escape critics. They blamed him for her changing herself. (Which was ridiculous, Sara was always a private person before him) but then NFL critics came after him, this was no surprise, as many people came after him, Bosa, and even Josh Allen, who was engaged to Hailee Steinfeld one of Sara's friends, of trying to be the next Brady.

It was ridiculous, and stupid. Sara wasn't going to be totally private. She understood that guests were going to take and share pictures, and she was fine with that, but she didn't want a whole spread and sell pictures for money and all that.

For some reason Anna didn't get that. "I love the fact that you're including so much of your fiancé's hometown in there. I must say, we never covered a celebrity wedding in Oregon."

And you won't Sara wanted to bite back, but she knew she had to be careful and respectful. Though she was an A list celebrity whose new film was getting Oscar buzz, Anna still had so much power and influence over the biggest connections, so she had to tread lightly. She wished Heidi was here, or someone from her team but this wasn't meant to be a business trip in any way. Anna knew that, so this was an opportunity to catch the star at a vulnerable moment.

Anna continued. "I can just see it now, you in your dress, and your fiancé, looking so handsome, posing overlooking the ocean with fireworks."

Sara took a sip of her cocktail waiting for her to continue, beside her, her mom and sisters were uncomfortable. It was clear that Anna had no plans to address them at all. The editor continued. "We can make the arrangement work. Although when we came to you back in July, we could have booked the Villa Pozzolo in Italy, seating over three hundred people."

"While that was much appreciated, Justin and I are sorta keeping it towards friends and family. We just want to be surrounded by people we know and love."

Anna hummed while taking a sip of her tea. "I noticed you haven't taken a bite of the food." Sara looked down at her plate. She had only taken a few bites while others had eaten. It was probably all of the knots in her stomach. "I'm not really an arugula person." Out of nowhere plates were taken away and replaced with a small cup of soup. "I kept the portions small. You look so good with your weight loss. I don't want to destroy your diet and force Pierpaolo to make all of these changes. Your dress is too gorgeous to make last minute alterations." How the fuck did she know what her dress looked like? "It is beautiful, exactly what  I wanted." Sara smiled.

"And just think, one of our photographers would capture every angle beautifully. Plus a full spread. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity."

"And I acknowledge that, and I'm super honored for thinking of us, but we want this day to be about us celebrating with friends and family. Plus there are so many people attending that would not feel comfortable by all of this. I want everyone to relax and enjoy the day."

Anna pursed her lips, a tell tale sign she wasn't happy. "And you think your guests wouldn't be too happy with our presence? A day that is about you and you're worried about your guests?"

"Well yeah, I mean not all of them are used to this celebrity. I mean it was the main reason that Justin and I split when our relationship came to light. It's a lot for me sometimes, and I'm in this business." Sara didn't like to bring up the past in her relationship. In fact, this was the first time she spoke publicly to an outside member about the breakup. But fuck, this woman wasn't talking no for an answer.

She shook her head. "I swear I've always stood by celebs not mixing with athletes, but you can't help who you fall in love with I guess." They were interrupted by the waiter again, taking away the small soup and replacing it with a small portion of salmon. Ignoring the implied insult Sara continued. "We just don't really want all of this media attention, people can post photos and all of that. But we aren't going to be seeking out magazine specials."

Anna nodded again. "But you must at least allow us to cover the venue and give us small details. Maybe an official photo to post on our social media?"

It was never going to end. Anna was determined to get her way. Sara knew early on that was one of the main reasons she became editor in chief.

"I'll think about it." —-------------------------------------------------------------------

"I cant believe she was so insistent, why couldn't she take no for an answer?"

Isabelle and Sara were sitting outside her office. After she and her family left Anna's, Sara dropped everyone off at the airport. Once that was done, her stomach rumbled once the knots faded away and she realized she hadn't really eaten anything at the brownstone. It was still lunchtime, and she was close to Isabelle's office, so she called up her bridesmaid and they met for lunch. Sara giving her the recap of everything that happened. "I don't know, but she won't stand down. And I feel like I'm going to have to give in on something. Even if we have a minor feature, but I know they are going to take over. They want security so one gets a sneak peak of the ceremony before they post it, then everyone there is on edge."

Isabelle nodded. "I know, you guys had to tell his cousin to lock down their profile, and delete a bunch of people." Last year, she posted a summer recap, one photo included Justin and Sara snuggling on the beach, it was screenshotted and posted everywhere within a couple of hours. She received tons of messages asking about the couple, so she had to take it down and make some major changes. "I don't know, I just don't want to be this typical celeb. I want to make sure Justin’s friends and family love me."

"Sara, they absolutely do love you" Some friends of his had issues with the press when Sara came around, and she became a bit of bad gossip. It got back to her and Justin and he explained that this was his world and if they didn't like it they could distance themselves. Sara felt bad, and Justin had to reassure her that he didn't talk to those friends outside of the state. It was his good friends who didn't care, and they were now in the wedding party.

"I know, I guess all of this stress is getting to me. Justin and I should just run away to Scotland and elope. Someone's wedding video popped up on my YouTube and it was beautiful. I thought I wanted this wedding, but I just want to be married, and have his name already."

"You're taking his last name?" Sara nodded as she took a bite. "Yeah, I know everyone is sorta against that. But it's only personally I'll be known as Sara Herbert, professionally I'll stay Wozniak." She and Justin had agreed to the change. Call her old fashioned but she loved the idea of taking her husband's last name. It was sorta unifying. "I'm just sick of all these people acting like it's their wedding, or they have a right to be there. It's not a celebrity star studded event, it's not a chance for the elite to show off how much money they have or a fashion show. It's my fucking wedding!"

"Speaking of famous." Isabelle nodded to her left, following her glance, she saw in the distance A man hiding behind a long angled lens pointing in their direction. Sighing, they wrapped up their lunch and bid their goodbyes.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------

It was always nice to be home.

It was December 1st,  the wedding almost 5 months away. Bridesmaids and grooms attire was finished. Pierpaolo and his team did an amazing job making sure everything was tailored. All there was left to do was keep up with fitting so nothing had to be changed last minute. Her dress and veil were almost finished. Venue was picked out, cake was customized and ordered. Final guest list was completed, just needed to approve invitations and send them out, but that wouldn't be till February.

Speaking of, the Chargers were on top of the AFC, there was serious talk about them possibly going all of the way. Sara never mentioned it to Justin, but she felt like this was the team's year. It would be perfect and chaotic, her and Justin both getting rings.

November was the busiest month for the couple. Sara was all around Europe doing talk shows, finishing touches on a movie with Andrew Garfield, who was the most pleasant and respectful man she had ever worked with. Then there was the Lord Huron release party for the album in Los Angeles, then she had to be back in Oregon to check on venue prep, then it was back to New York for a photoshoot.

She had never been so tired in her life as she got in the door. Justin was in Texas for his SNF game and she was hoping to nap for a while so she could stay up and watch.

Unfortunately that wasn't the case, as her phone rang and she saw it was the planner. She stood there for a moment before deciding to pick it up. "Hello?"

"Hi sara." She sounded nervous over the phone. Uh oh. "What is it? I'm so tired, so this better be good."

"So uhh someone in your wedding party dropped out."

"Huh? Who?" Sara knew her entire party, and while she would be concerned, she would also rip them a new asshole for not telling her and instead going to her planner.

"It's the officiant." Her eyebrows drew together in concern. "Deacon Rodgers? Justin's family's preacher. I don't understand, Justin told me everything was fine on that end. He was supposed to come visit us next week!"

"Well he just informed me today he had some family issues and would not be able to officiate the wedding. Now the problem is everyone is booked because it is a four month notice. Everyone requires at least six months in advance."

Sara felt like she was going to have a full on bridezilla meltdown. She had done a good job keeping calm when things went wrong. Like Alyssa telling her that Brent might now be able to make it because of the NHL playoffs schedule going into June, her mom trying to invite all of their friends. Her dad wanting to pay for everything, wanting to make up for lost time. It was nice, but exhausting. In all honesty she was used to being ignored. She found solace in Justin's family. While she loved being close to hers, it was just chaos. Mark and Holly were just quiet people, they didn't have the money that the Wozniak's did, but they had each other.

Back to the issue at hand, she told her planner that she would deal with it, right now she just wanted to rest and watch Justin's game. After hanging up, her phone rang again, this time it was a three way call with her manager and agent, reminding her she had an appearance on a popular talk show promoting her guest appearance on Law and Order.

She washed her face and did her nighttime routine, even though it was the afternoon. Sara put down the blackout curtains so the room was dark. "Nova Eugene! Knock it off." She heard the cats stop wrestling, and within a few moments she was out.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------

"Baby. Wake up." She felt soft kisses on her face. Justin was home, she adjusted her eyes to the dark. "What time is it?"

He looked over at the clock on his nightstand. "2am. Did you see the game?" She shook her head. "Shit. I slept so long I was supposed to get up to watch. I guess I was more tired than I thought." He laughed and kissed her. "Go back to sleep babe."

Too late, she was wide awake now. "Well I slept for like 12 hours. I'm not tired anymore." Feeling mischievous and needing to relieve some stress, she climbed on top of Justin and began kissing him. "It's been a bad day, and I just want to forget." Pulling down his briefs, Justin flipped them over so he was on top. He missed her so much, and now that she was home with little to no obligations for quite some time he was excited to spend time with her when he could.

It didn't take long for them to come apart. Her gasping for air as he released with a groan, collapsing on her. After a few minutes, he rolled off. "Fuck I missed you." She cuddled up to him. "Same. I'm so glad I'm home. Did you win your game?" Feeling bad that she missed it. He nodded. "Yeah we won in overtime."

"Good." She paused, deciding to rip the band-aid off. "So Deacon Rodgers can't do the ceremony."

"Huh?" Justin didn't expect that to be the post sex convo. He looked over and rolled so he faced her. "What are you talking about? He was supposed to come visit us." She laughed. "Funny I said the same thing, but apparently last minute family issues."

"I don't see how that affects us. We are getting married in May."

"That's what I thought, but apparently now it's short notice to find someone."

"So what does that mean?" She shook her head. "I don't know. Do you know anyone who can officiate a wedding?" Justin shook his head. "I mean can't we hire a judge or something? Or Google someone?"

"I mean yeah, but can we find someone who would be willing to sign a NDA about us and our guests?"

"Good point." Sara sighed. "I just want to be married." He nodded. She cuddled closer to him. "Let's do it."

"Huh?"

"You have a Victory monday?" He nodded. "We won. So yeah."

"Let's go to the courthouse tomorrow and do it."

"But what about the wedding?"

"We can still do that. We will just have two dates." He laughed. "Sara, no."

"Huh?" He kissed her. "You told me before that you didn't like the idea of two anniversaries. Plus when we say our vows, I want them to be known to everyone that it's you and me."

Sara smiled. "You're right. It just sucks. We said small, and it's not shaping up that way. So many people are able to make this trip or want to come and it's just alot."

"We could scale it back, tell them to get lost." She chuckled. "Oh yeah Mr. Nice guy. Tell everyone to beat it." He laughed. "We could lie about the venue and We can figure this out tomorrow." He yawned. "I'm tired." Sara, still restless from the sleep schedule, threw off her covers and slipped on a big band t-shirt. Justin frowned. "Where are you going?"

"I'm hungry, and I forgot to feed the cats their dinner!" On cue, both cats meowed loudly.  "Just give them a few treats and come back quickly." He yawned again. Sara nodded,she wasn't going to do that.

Going into the kitchen, Sara took out their raw foods with their treats and goat milk. Once their bowls were filled, Sara grabbed boxed Mac and cheese and began making it. While she waited for the water to boil, she pulled out her laptop and began looking at their private wedding website. She edited the preacher's name off of the party section and looked at the timeline for the day. She still had to have a practice run for hair and makeup. Oh god she didn't even know how she wanted her hair! She would have to incorporate the heirloom hair piece somehow!

At this point she was assembling the Mac and cheese on autopilot. While eating she was searching for other things to incorporate at the reception. Photo booth, the lights on the dance floor-

"You do realize this is what we have a wedding planner for right?" She looked up from the laptop to see Justin with a sleepy smile. She nodded. "I know, I just don't want to seem like an uninvolved bridezilla. I want this wedding to scream 'us'." Justin came around the counter and wrapped his arms around her. Pressing a kiss on top of her head. "I know baby, it will, and I'm off so the rest of the day we can sit down and go over everything. We are way ahead of schedule, you know." She nodded, yawning again. He grabbed the bowl and scooped what was left from the pot in the bowl to store in the fridge for now. Once everything was cleaned up he carried her to bed. Climbing on top of her he told her. "You know if you aren't tired I could go for another round." He smirked.

She smiled. "Ehh I could take care of myself. You need your sleep." She tried to roll over but Justin grinded his hips into hers and she moaned. "Absolutely not too tired for this." He smashed his lips to hers and she moaned, wrapping her legs around his waist. Justin was grateful she forgot to slip on underwear as it was easier access. She moaned once Justin was inside of her. "Fuck I love you." He whispered in her ear and he began thrusting, her too breathy to reply back to him.

As she lost herself in pleasure, she knew everything would be okay, because in the end her and Justin would be married and that was all she wanted.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------

"What did I miss?" Sara was out of breath as she took her seat in the box. AnnSophie shrugged as she handed Sara a glass of wine. "Ehh nothing much, Jets are up by a field goal." It was the wild card game against the Jets, and Sara was nervous. Playoff season put her on edge and for good reason. It caused her to stress eat, which wasn't good because Valentino rep was supposed to come by next week for another full fitting for her dress. She saw Joe was fixing up a plate of food for his heavily pregnant wife. "Isn't Alisha like due to give birth any day?" Sara questioned as she saw her friend waddle over to grab the plate.

Joe looked over, hearing his friend. "Yes! And I'm on edge thank you very much! I was going to watch the game at home, but she wanted to go and you try arguing with a pregnant woman."

After a few glasses of wine, Sara made her way to the buffet table. AnnSophie was filling her plate. Having taken a break from modeling and stepping into behind the scenes of fashion since marrying Joey she was able to relax on dieting and other things.

However Sara was paying close attention to her friend and bridesmaid. She took no sips of her wine, and was avoiding certain foods at the table and yawning alot. Sara had never been pregnant, but AnnSophie had, and she remembered her friend's symptoms from the first time around. At halftime she cornered her by the buffet while she was chowing down on the Caprese salad.(AnnSophie hated tomatoes) "alright spill it, is Lexi going to be a big sister?"

AnnSophie pursed her lips for a moment, then sighed. "Okay I'm 8 weeks, I was going to tell you next week at the fitting. I promise I could still fit in my dress and I'll take care of any alterations." Sara stopped. "I'm so happy for you and Joey!" She hugged her friends. "Does anyone else know?"

Her friend shook her head. "No, we haven't even told his parents or brother and my family…." She trailed off. Sara smiled. "I swear I won't, I'm so excited for you guys and Lexi!"

The blonde laughed. "We haven't told her yet. Joey is worried that she is going to start asking where babies come from."

As they discussed the pregnancy in secret, they were interrupted by the game starting again. The Chargers were up by a touchdown, but before halftime, the Jets were close to the goal line.

It was a tough game, but the Chargers won, and Sara greeted Justin and they went back to the house to cuddle with the cats.

Sara had a good feeling about this year.

—--------------‐—-------------------------------------------------------

"THE LOS ANGELES CHARGERS ARE HEADING TO SUPER BOWL 59 IN NEW ORLEANS!" The announcer yelled as Sara and the WAGS went crazy in their seats. Sporting their customer made jackets with their guys name and number on the back. She had gotten the idea from Alyssa who said that every hockey team did a jacket for the wives in playoff season. Sara got Pierpaolo to design a navy blue jacket with the bolt logo, and on the back with the name and number.

It was a hit with the Chargers WAGs and the NFL, and people wanted the jackets to be put up for sale. Justin always loved Sara in his jerseys, so when he saw her in his jacket he loved it.

As she and Justin's family made it down to the field, she decided to stay off to the side and let Justin’s family share the joy and excitement on camera as Erin Andrews interviewed him. She looked around, the joy and celebration of everyone. She smiled as she saw Joey swing both AnnSophie and Lexi around, being careful of a pregnancy that was now public knowledge as of last week.

Sara couldn't help but think of a couple of years ago, when she watched Justin defeated at the Jags loss. Every announcer shitting on him and the team, questioning him and his capabilities. How heartbroken she was, then upset with the article and heartbreak of them splitting.

Now they were here, Justin was going to be playing in the superbowl, they were engaged to be married in less than six months. It all seemed like a dream, and she was going to wake up in her home and realize the last couple of years didn't happen-"

"Sara!" She broke free of her daydream and realized she was being lifted up into the air and swung around by her fiancé. Wrapping her legs around him he kissed her, and soon there was a swarm of cameramen and television stations surrounding them, capturing a very rare moment between them. Setting her down, they were met with a Los Angeles Fox news reporter wanting to ask Justin questions. She went to leave but Justin grabbed her hand and pulled her towards him, an action that didn't go unnoticed by everyone who knew them.

Justin's large arm was wrapped around her the entire time as he was answering questions about the game, and all of that. Finally the reporter addressed Sara. "Sara, how excited are you to witness Justin and his team reach the superbowl?"

It was funny because being a veteran at Award shows and live interviews it was a totally different ballgame being on the field. Sports wasn't what she was known for, and seeing all of this surrounded her made her nervous. "Yes it's so exciting, I'm so proud of Justin and his teammates. It's a long season, and these guys played their hearts out. To see them being rewarded for all of their hard work it's such a great experience and I couldn't be prouder." She looked up and met Justin's eyes and they shared a smile.

"Well no matter what happens in New Orleans you will be getting a ring for sure." They all laughed, and Justin thanked the reporter before going to celebrate.

They took pictures on the field. Sara and Justin, then Justin and his family, and Sara and Justin with his family. It would be given that some members of her family would fly out to the superbowl.

The celebration back in the locker room was insane. They were in Kansas City, so they couldn't do too much damage, but the music was blasting, champagne was flowing and spilling, and someone was handing out cigars and cigarettes. AnnSophie took Lexi home, not wanting both her and her kids to be exposed to that. Sara took a cigarette and lit it up. Justin gave her a look as he wasn't smoking. She pointed at him, "I don't want to hear anything. I'm under a lot of stress and trying to relax." He left it alone, but she knew she would get some sort of lecture later.

Sara made sure Justin enjoyed the moment. Watching him joke around and dance with teammates. It was a perfect scene, and so far, life couldn't get better than this.

—---------------------------------------------------------------

The weeks leading up to the big game were insane. Sara made travel arrangements for her family to travel to Louisiana. Almost everyone besides Alyssa and Brent were attending. Her parents would be staying behind with the grandkids as Brittany, Katie and their husband's would be attending.

Then the Lady Chargers decided to throw Sara and another Bride a joint bridal shower. It was very sweet, and once again Sara found herself lugging gifts.

In between all of the sanity, she threw complete wedding control to the planner and her mom. She wrote down her major requests for the wedding after party and food. It was out of her hands until the game was finished. While Justin was packing in between practices and getting ready for the send off rally. Eugene decided to break his foot, so he had to be rushed to the vet and be put in a cast. Luckily, her assistant volunteered to stay behind to take care of the cats,as she was fond of them both being around Sara often.

Her stylist picked her superbowl outfit, and her hair and makeup artists would be making sure she looked pristine as well.

Before they knew it, Justin and his team boarded the plane to Louisiana while she and the other WAGS tended to last minute things. Luckily the Chargers team let the WAGS and their families private planes to travel.

It was the last day before she was set to leave. Her bags were packed, hotel arrangements  were made and she was to set out at 8am the next morning to pick up AnnSophie and Lexi.

While she was waiting for her assistant to show up to pick up the cats her doorbell rang. Figuring it was her fiancés manager she ran to let her in. However it was the last person she expected to see.

Latrell was the latest addition to her team, he was a lawyer who specialized in finances, recommended by Katie. He was sharp, all business, and he never cracked a smile or laughed. Justin told her he made him feel uneasy.

"Hello Ms. Wozniak. May I come in?" He never called her by her name, no matter how many requests she's made. "Um, actually it's a bad time since I'm getting everything ready for tomorrow."

"Yes, I know about your super bowl trip. Congratulations to Mr. Herbert by the way. You must all feel very proud."  She nodded. "We are all so proud. Now if you don't mind, what does this concern?"

He sighed and entered the home. Putting his briefcase on the couch he opened it and pulled out a stack of papers. "I've been trying to contact you since the news of your engagement, but you've been impossible to schedule a sit down appointment with, so I took the liberty to draw this up."

Sara shook her head confused. "I apologize, but I don't know what is so urgent that it couldn't wait til after the wedding." He stopped and gave her a hard look, and she felt like she was a child about to be given a lecture by her dad. "I hardly think a prenuptial agreement could wait till after the marriage documents are signed, correct?"

She couldn't say anything. She hadn't even thought about it. Her and Justin were worth tons of money. Sara did have generational wealth, and technically was due to inherit property from her parents and a generous lump sum of money.

Justin would never take that from her IF they divorced. But then again he did break up with her.

But that was so long ago…..

It was only two years ago….

"Ms. Wozniak?" Sara snapped out of her daydream. "I'm sorry Latrell, I wasn't purposely ignoring you, but I hadn't thought about that really."

He nodded. "That's why I'm here. I took the liberty of discussing matters with Justin’s team. They were trying to reach him, but to no avail." It made her feel good to know that she wasn't going to be the one blindsided by this. Latrell continued. "I drew up a basic agreement, anything money, property accumulated before your marriage will remain yours and vice versa. The California laws of a 50-50 marriage will not apply In the event of a divorce. If Mr. Herbert commits infidelity you will be entitled to half of his earnings during the marriage. Your future c-"

"Woah woah" Sara put her hands up. "I really appreciate this Latrell, but I think this should be a matter I discuss with my future husband, don't you think?"

"No offense Ms. Wozniak, I anticipate the next few months you are not going to have time to sit down and discuss this with Mr. Herbert."

"Well I'm not signing anything without reviewing this, and having Justin here is important. I'm sorry but this will have to wait."

Latrell shrugged and went to the door. "Suit yourself, but Sara, you guys aren't any average couple. It is in your best interest that your net worth of fifty million is protected. Don't you think so?"

She nodded. "I'll call you." She saw him at the door and bid goodbye.

This was the last thing she needed right now.

—------------------------------------------------------------

"Holy shit this is insane." Rachel Joseph-Day was looking around in awe. They were all seated towards the back in the first level of the stadium. Sara had never been to New Orleans, so this was an amazing experience.

She had been in contact with Justin through the phone, the tables had switched for the media obligations. Justin was the main star, which she knew he hated. He was very poised in all of his media, even answering a few questions about her that he knew they were going to ask.

She knew people thought it was weird that they hadn't posted publicly about each other. The only crumble they gave were liking each other's posts or being tagged in friends' postings. It worked for them, and love wasn't dead because they were private to the whole world. Private not secret

During the pregame show her nerves were growing. Fellow celebs were taking their seats, stopping to say a few words of congratulations and good luck.

Her nerves calmed once Justin's family arrived. They were sitting behind her, as the other wives and girlfriends were taking up two rows next to them were her family, and Justin's coach from Oregon. They all talked before she and Katie decided to get snacks for people who wanted them

The concession stands were busy, and people stopped to take videos of Sara walking, and some influencers stopped her for photos. "I know I've seen you be all famous, but it's still weird seeing you like this. To me you will always be the emo dork who would steal my makeup." Sara laughed as she was in line. "Yeah be lucky I stole all of the tits so I couldn't steal your shirts!"

Once they ordered they began to walk back to their area when they heard a voice. "Hello Sara."

She froze, she recognized that condescending, bitchy tone. She looked next to her and sure enough it was the NFL's very own Taylor. "Hi Taylor. Always good to see you again." Sara took the cordial route. It was all petty high school drama anyway.

The blonde huffed. "Wish I could say the same." Sara sighed. "Well it was nice seeing you." She went to walk away.

"Your outfit is a little weird don't ya think?" Sara looked at her sister,who was concerned. "Katie, this is Taylor, the one I told you about." Her sisters face hardened. "So nice to meet you Taylor, I've heard a lot about you."

"Good things?"

"Not really." Sara had to hold back a laugh. Taylor continued. "I really admire your baby sister, she has perseverance. I mean no matter how pathetic she looks she keeps going!"

"Listen bi-" Sara held her hand up to stop her sister. "Listen Taylor. I don't know what your problem is, we are almost in our thirties. Well, I am. Can't you grow up just a bit? You're just upset you didn't get to me, and I got the ring in the end." She held her hand up to show the sparkler. "See? It's over. I'm marrying Justin this summer and you're just mad because it isn't you." Taylor was speechless, Sara saw there were a few people looking. "It was so nice seeing you! Enjoy the game!" She gave the old friends appearance wave and walked back to the seat.

Katie smiled. "I'm so fucking proud of you. That was so mature-"

"I should have accidentally spilled something on her." Sara cut in.

"Well there goes my compliment about you being mature." They both laughed.

From her seat, she had a view of the press on the field. She saw Taylor, who was now using her position to be on the sidelines for most likely the entire game. They met eyes, and once again Sara's left hand went up to move a piece of hair from her face. The blonde scowled and looked away.

Before the group all knew it, the lights dimmed and the announcer came on, ready for the introductions. The Chargers were wearing the powder blue yellow pants combination. Sara loved the yellow pants, as it showed off everything.

Once everyone was on the field and they did their usual theriatrics it was officially time for the game to begin.

Sara felt like she wanted to throw up.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------

"Four minutes on the clock, do you think they can score and avoid OT?" Taylor Pipkens spoke as she was nervously tapping her nails against her drink. Sara had an urge to bite her acrylics, but she knew her mom would bitch her out if she was caught on TV. They were watching at home with the kids.

The Cowboys were resilient, constantly on the Chargers back and taking a slight lead in the third quarter, however Prescott threw a costly interception that tied them up.

Now the clock was winding down, and the Chargers had the ball. The punt return didn't give them much help as the Dallas defense seemed to have a second wind.

Sara and the group were in their own little world. A few times she was shown on the jumbotron and the major broadcasting channels flashed to her downing a glass of wine, which Heidi messaged her that she was now a meme on Twitter, she didn't see the tons of messages her friends texted her. She would be fighting for her life in the group chat the next morning. She'd worry about that later.

So far Justin decided to run to get a few first downs, and they were almost in the red zone. She couldn't sit down, she was standing up, as well as the other wives and Chargers fans. It had been quite the time since it was announced that the Cowboys would be facing the Chargers. She had been getting death threats and hate messages. Some were good natured ribbing, but there were some that definitely got blocked.

There was two minutes left as Justin threw to Mike, who got stopped at the five yard line. It was now second down, and everyone in their section held their breath as Justin dropped back, a quick search and he threw to Quentin in the end zone, who caught it easily despite being covered by the Cowboys safety.

"Yes!" Everyone erupted at once. High fives were passed around, and Sara hugged people she didn't even know. Reaching over to high five Mark and Holly, there was 1:10 left, and it was up to the defense to stop Dak.

She had faith. Joey had been playing amazingly, so much that he was named the top defensive player. It was wonderful that despite the bullshit he faced from the outside world, he came back and proved everyone wrong.

Unfortunately, The punt was good, and the Cowboys started at the Chargers 40 yard line. "I think I'm going to throw up." Sara spoke to herself.

"You know if mom sees you, you are getting it. You know mom hates that more than anything." Brittany laughed and she realized her hands were in her mouth. "Sorry." She muttered.

It was third down, and as Dak tried to run, Joey anticipated his move, and down the quarterback went and the ball came loose.

It was all slow motion for Sara as she saw a sea of blue dive for the ball.

"They got it!" Mitch yelled! And tears began to stream down Sara's face as the team celebrated.

That was it

The Chargers were Superbowl champions!

The clock ran out, and powder blue and yellow confetti began shooting all over the stadium. The next few minutes was all a blur for Sara as she was passed around for hugs. Holly was in tears as the whole Herbert family was. AnnSophie was holding Lexi tight with Joey's mom and brother.

The usher got them and escorted them down to the sidelines to watch Roger Godell present the Lombardi trophy to Justin. Through the blur of her tears she saw him raise it up as she was taking video after video.

Once they were allowed on the field. Justin immediately reached for her and picked her up, swinging her around. This time, the tears flowed between both of them. After sharing a passionate kiss Sara spoke. "I love you so much! I'm so proud of you! I mean look." She gestured to the celebrations around them. "This is all for you!"

He nodded. "It is for all of us, including you." She shook her head. "We will argue about that later." He put her down and greeted his family. Holly began taking the confetti and stuffing some in her purse.

"Justin! The NFL network wants to interview you." Ashley guided Justin towards Taylor with the microphone  and the cameraman. Before Justin could reach her he turned around and grabbed Sara's hand pulling her towards him. Her eyes widened. "No Justin, this is your moment."

"We are doing this together." Taylor's eyes were as wide as saucers as the couple approached. "Okay we are on in three, two, one."

Taylor had to conceal her shock. "I'm here with Justin Herbert, the superbowl MVP. Justin, how important is this win to the city of Los Angeles?"

He smiled. "It's big, the fans in LA and San Diego have deserved this for so long, and to get back on the plane and bring it home is exciting."

"Justin that final play of the game, what was the atmosphere? Was there any panic?" It was obvious that Taylor was going to act like she wasn't there, so Sara angled herself off camera as much as she could (Justin's arm was still around her) so she could greet other members of his family. She didn't hear his response but was pulled back by the blonde's next question

"I'm sure any off season plans will have to be delayed this summer."

"No, it will just make it more exciting. He looked at Sara who smiled back. "We got to get another ring in a few months. So it will be a great off season."

"Well congratulations again." They both didn't miss the bite in Taylor's voice. Once they were out of ear shot they busted out laughing.

Eventually, Justin and the team went to get changed and ready to head out for a night on the town.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Annie!! I love our baby but I wish you weren't pregnant right now!" Joey smiled as he took a swig of champagne. His wife rolled her eyes. "Someone has to keep your ass in check. I'll probably be heading back towards the hotel to relieve the babysitter soon."

In New Orleans fashion, a parade down Bourbon street was held. The team and their families were walking down the street to the cheers of the crowd. Even the ones with kids were there, although the celebration was anything but appropriate.

"You realize we are going to have to get on a plane hungover tomorrow?" Sara giggled as she took a sip of champagne from the bottle."

Justin chuckled. "Baby I think you had way more than I did." He adjusted the championship hat on her head.

People were popping champagne, others were popping confetti cannons. The scene was chaotic, and beautiful in some way. Jazz bands were playing, and people were dancing in the streets, not even caring about football, just wanting to enjoy the party atmosphere.

Fireworks began going off, and Justin was lost in the moment, Sara was dancing and laughing at a comment Mike yelled. It was a high he never wanted to let go off. He had everything he ever wanted, well except one thing and he couldn't wait till May.

Grabbing his fiancé's hand he pulled her off to the side. "Justin what's wrong?"

"Let's get married." She began giggling and he was confused. "What?"

"Justin we are!" She showed him her ring. "Remember? Are you sure you haven't had too many…"

It was his turn to laugh. "I mean tomorrow when we go home. Let's go to the courthouse and get married."

She sobered up quickly. "I thought you said…"

"I know what I said, and I was wrong, I don't want to wait another moment without you being my wife. I love you and I want to marry you as soon as possible." He grabbed her hand. "If you want to."

She thought about it. Her team would be upset, their families would be upset. But it wasn't about them.

"Let's do it."

A/N: I had to bust this up into two parts because it was wayyy too long. But what do you think? Should they marry at the courthouse or just wait til their actual wedding?

[tallmantall]

James Donaldson on Mental Health - Language that could be clues to suicide differ between men and women, study finds

by Holly Ober, University of California, Los Angeles Credit: CC0 Public Domain The suicide rate for men is about four times higher than for women. While men make up 50% of the population, they account for 80% of the suicides. Yet, suicide risk in men often goes unnoticed. Now new research may offer hope. A UCLA-led study of public health records has identified a vocabulary associated with events surrounding male suicides that could be useful in spotting individuals who need follow up care, and in improving public health messaging. The study, published in the American Journal of Public Health, examined 271,998 suicides over a period of 17 years in the U.S. National Violent Death Reporting System, a database maintained by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. Research revealed large differences in the language used in the database's police reports and public health records to describe the circumstances surrounding male and female suicides. Less than half of suicide decedents in the database had a documented mental health condition, and even fewer had evidence of having ever received mental health or substance use treatment. In addition, a much larger percentage of those who had received such treatment were women than men. Language related to mood, psychological state, and previous or ongoing treatment for mental health problems appeared far more frequently in the records of women than men. Words and phrases related to interventions, such as "intensive care unit," "therapy," and "welfare check," also appeared more frequently for women. These are the types of terms mental health professionals are trained to recognize as early warning signs of suicide. Words associated with male suicides, on the other hand, were far more likely to reference job loss, alcohol abuse, financial stress, and unusual behavior around the time of death. #James Donaldson notes:Welcome to the “next chapter” of my life… being a voice and an advocate for #mentalhealthawarenessandsuicideprevention, especially pertaining to our younger generation of students and student-athletes.Getting men to speak up and reach out for help and assistance is one of my passions. Us men need to not suffer in silence or drown our sorrows in alcohol, hang out at bars and strip joints, or get involved with drug use.Having gone through a recent bout of #depression and #suicidalthoughts myself, I realize now, that I can make a huge difference in the lives of so many by sharing my story, and by sharing various resources I come across as I work in this space.  #http://bit.ly/JamesMentalHealthArticleFind out more about the work I do on my 501c3 non-profit foundationwebsite www.yourgiftoflife.org Order your copy of James Donaldson's latest book,#CelebratingYourGiftofLife: From The Verge of Suicide to a Life of Purpose and Joy www.celebratingyourgiftoflife.com Link for 40 Habits Signupbit.ly/40HabitsofMentalHealth If you'd like to follow and receive my daily blog in to your inbox, just click on it with Follow It. Here's the link https://follow.it/james-donaldson-s-standing-above-the-crowd-s-blog-a-view-from-above-on-things-that-make-the-world-go-round?action=followPub The records related to men who did mention mental health struggles were less likely to note that the person received treatment, and when treatment was mentioned, they were more likely to add that the patient had been non-compliant. Male narratives also more often included a topic reflecting emergency or police-based interventions. Ten terms related to mental health that more often appeared in the narratives of men than women were: - chronic mental health conditions - undiagnosed - strange behavior - agitation - making mistakes - seeming like - cognitive difficulties - signals of mental and physical health issues - self-injury - cognitive indecision "Many studies have shown that men are less often diagnosed with or treated for depression and other mental health issues so it's not surprising we see fewer of those kinds of terms in the records," said co-author Vickie Mays, a UCLA professor of psychology and health policy and management. "What we've done is uncover a language of suicide that can help health care workers and others catch more men before they go through with it." The findings offer a new approach to understanding and identifying early warning signs for suicide by mining texts, possibly using artificial intelligence, for signals emitted by those close to committing suicide. "Health care workers could reach out to these people with offers of support, and the data could be used to train suicide hotline workers, first responders, and health care professionals to recognize and intervene with troubled men. The language could also be used in public health messaging and in workplace wellness programs," said Susan Cochran, a professor of epidemiology at the UCLA Fielding School of Public Health and the Department of Statistics and Data Science. Mays noted that women interact with the health care system more routinely than men, usually around reproductive health. These visits typically include screening for depression and can lead to referrals for treatment. "If a man is only going to a doctor every so often, there are fewer chances he'll be referred for treatment. We think that by identifying gendered language around suicide, we can get more help for men who need it," Mays said. "For example, interventions could be directed at a man who is distraught about losing a job, since that was one of the key indicators pointing toward suicide for men." Photo by Mental Health America (MHA) on Pexels.com Read the full article

[scarletwitchie2]

May 16, 2004. Participating in the "We Are the Future" benefit event. Circus Maximus, Rome, Italy.

2. Book Signing at Skylight Bookstore in Los Angeles 10/13/2021 - signing autographs after leaving store - Know Your Rights: And Claim Them A Guide for Youth

3. Eternals Hollywood/LA premiere Oct. 2021

4. Shiloh and Mom - November 2, 2009 in Santa Monica, Calif. shopping at the Gap

5. and 6. October 23, 2001. With Billy Bob Thornton at a Special Screening of the film "The Man Who Wasn't There". Director's Guild of America, West Hollywood, USA. *info from AngelinaJolieBrasil

7 to 9 - .Angie and Maddox with friends, Eunice Huthart and Holly Goline in Santa Monica 2004

10. January 5, 2005. premiere of #Alexander. Odeon Leicester Square, London, England

[keeganallennews]

keeoone Wow. Speechless. So special to meet each of you and share stories during #HollywoodBookTour MEET ME TODAY MAY 6th in SAN DIEGO MIRA MESA BARNES &NOBLE 2pm ! See you soon 🖤

[goldenavenger02]

Susz's Halloween Recommendations Part 2: Books and Fics.

Books

Pet Sematary by Stephan King

Dr. Louis Creed and his wife, Rachel, moved to Ludlow, Maine with their two young kids, Ellie and Gage, and their cat, Church. In the woods, near their home is a pet cemetery with a sign that was spelled sematary.

Notes: this book made me scared of my own cats for about two weeks. I really enjoyed it but that scene with the cat was very excessive.

Sadie by Courtney Summers

The book chronicles teenager Sadie Hunter’s quest to find the man who killed her sister. In alternating chapters, Sadie’s subsequent disappearance becomes the topic of West McCray’s podcast The Girls.

Notes: this audio book is so fantastic, especially the podcast elements! Trigger warnings for Sexual Assault and Child Abuse.

The Project by Courtney Summers

But dealing with her ex is the least of Hannah's concerns when a terrifying blood ritual interrupts the end-of-school-year bonfire.

Lo Denham is used to being on her own. After her parents died, Lo's sister, Bea, joined The Unity Project, leaving Lo in the care of their great aunt. Thanks to its extensive charitable work and community outreach, The Unity Project has won the hearts and minds of most in the Upstate New York region, but Lo knows there's more to the group than meets the eye.

Notes: a book about a journalist trying to learn more about the cult who took her sister from her. If you have siblings, this one hurts even more than if you don't. This has a frick ton of triggers, so please look into that before picking this up.

These Witches Don't Burn by Isabel Sterling

Hannah spends most of her time avoiding her ex-girlfriend (and fellow Elemental Witch) Veronica, hanging out with her best friend, and working at the Fly By Night Cauldron selling candles and crystals to tourists, goths, and local Wiccans. 

Hannah spends most of her time avoiding her ex-girlfriend (and fellow Elemental Witch) Veronica, hanging out with her best friend, and working at the Fly By Night Cauldron selling candles and crystals to tourists, goths, and local Wiccans. 

But dealing with her ex is the least of Hannah's concerns when a terrifying blood ritual interrupts the end-of-school-year bonfire.

Notes: a queer witch book with plenty of action and magic throughout! This book is so important to me and I'm currently reading the second and final book!

The Beekeeper's Apprentice by Laurie R. King

Long retired, Sherlock Holmes quietly pursues his study of honeybee behavior on the Sussex Downs. He never imagines he would encounter anyone whose intellect matched his own, much less an audacious teenage girl with a penchant for detection.

Notes: one of my mom's favorites and this is one of the best mysteries I've ever read!

The Devouring Gray by Christine Lynn Herman

On the edge of town a beast haunts the woods, trapped in the Gray, its bonds loosening…

Notes: this author has been involved in some not great things involving being anti semetic (I hope I spelled that right), so if you still want to read this, please don't do it in a way that financially supports her. That being said, I read it before that stuff came out, and I liken it to a queer Teen Wolf season 3 type story.

The Cheerleaders by Kara Thomas

First there was the car accident—two girls gone after hitting a tree on a rainy night. Not long after, the murders happened. Those two girls were killed by the man next door. The police shot him, so no one will ever know why he did it. Monica’s sister was the last cheerleader to die. After her suicide, Sunnybrook High disbanded the cheer squad. No one wanted to be reminded of the girls they lost. ...

Notes: an amazing murder mystery and one that I highly recommend! A bit slow at times, but the fast scenes make up for it.

The Assassin Game by Kristy McKay

At Cate's isolated boarding school Killer is more than a game-it's an elite secret society. Members must avoid being "killed" during a series of thrilling pranks-and only the Game Master knows who the "killer" is. When Cate's finally invited to join The Guild of Assassins, she knows it's her ticket to finally feeling like she belongs.

Notes: this takes place on an small island near Wales and it's one of the most atmospheric books I've ever read! The first chapter is really nasty, but after that, it's so good!

Two Can Keep a Secret by Karen. M McMannis

Echo Ridge is small-town America. Ellery's never been there, but she's heard all about it. Her aunt went missing there at age seventeen. And only five years ago, a homecoming queen put the town on the map when she was killed. Now Ellery has to move there to live with a grandmother she barely knows.

Notes: this was like reading a CW show. That's all I can say about it.

The Spiderwick Chronicles by Holly Black and Tony DiTerlizzi

Jared, Simon and Mallory, who finds a mysterious Field Guide hidden in the attic, written by their great-great-uncle Arthur Spiderwick, who studied Faeries — magical beings who hide themselves from Humans using a type of magic called glamour.

Notes: I can't say much about this because I barely remember it. But I remember it freaking the crap out of me.

Fics (all of these are MCU)

Pumpkins and Stitches and Monster Mash by @marvelous-writer

Notes: I told myself to pick one fic from one writer, but with Marvelous-Writer, I just couldn't do it. I'm not gonna give synopsis' for the fics, because you really just need to take my word for it and read them.

too sick for clowns by @hailing-stars

Notes: short and sweet. Hailing-Stars is an icon and everyone needs to follow her.

Vein Drain by @ciaconna on Ao3

Notes: absolutely fantastic and humorous.

Trick Or Treat (Or Traumatize) by @awesomesockes and @whumphoarder

Notes: I just freaking love this writing duo.

No doubts about it by @angels-creative

Notes: my queen, my bestie, and the fic she had to send me the link to cause I couldn't find it XD

And I think that's all for this year! Have a safe and happy Halloween everyone!

[saddylancooper]

I was tagged by @blue-diner thank you holly! love you!!!!

(rules: answer 30 questions + tag 10 people)

1. Name/nickname: danni

2. Gender: cis she/her

3. Star sign: capricorn

4. Height: 5’1

5. Time: 12:38pm

6. Birthday: december 30th

7. Favorite bands: jonas brothers and swim deep

8. Favorite solo artists: i don’t really have any tbh

9. Song stuck in my head: ‘like or like like’ by miniature tigers

10. Last movie: madagascar!

11. Last show: riverdale

12. When did I make this blog: around 2011-2012ish

13. What I post: literally anything. I’m a real mixed bag

14. Last thing googled: zebra life expectancy

15. Other blogs: none

16. Do I get asks: not really

17. Why I chose my url: uhhh me and my friends were talking about how everyone hates the baby from Ice Age. I said that I feel pretty neutral about the baby from Ice Age, which somehow turned into me being the baby from Ice Age. That’s now my brand

18. Following: oh lord knows! Probably about 400ish

19. Followers: Fluctuating around 400

20. Average hours of sleep: at the moment its like 12 (depression babey)

21. Lucky number: 12

22. Instruments: I’m okay at piano but I haven’t played in ages

23. What I’m wearing: yellow stripy top and rainbow joggers

24. Dream trip: disneyworld!!! or los angeles

25. Favorite food: ice cream!

26. Nationality: english

27. Favorite song: ‘awful sound (oh eurydice)’ by arcade fire

28. Last book read: ‘rule of wolves’ by leigh bardugo

29. Top 3 fictional universes I’d like to live in: middle-earth (specifically the shire) or neverland

30. Favorite color: either pink or blue!

I’m tagging @bill–potts @medievalsluts @grapefruitjellyfish @born-in-chains-of-revolution @simulatedstars @at-heart-a-gentleman @kittengrantaire @yourlordship and anyone else who sees this and wants to <3

[eliotquillon]

random tsc facts

aline, jace, jocelyn, valentine, robert, and maryse most likely all speak with a faint swiss-french accent because of the position of idris.

only three characters have eyes specifically described as ‘black’: sebastian, valentine, and isabelle.

idris’s drinking age is fifteen, similar to its european neighbours.

jem/brother zachariah has the most unique book appearances, second only to magnus.

simon’s mom thinks isabelle is a tattoo artist.

early copies of city of ashes state that daniel is maia’s twin brother, not her older brother.

the seelie queen is present in every main tsc book apart from city of bones and the infernal devices.

isabelle and simon are the only ‘main’ tsc pairing without a sex scene.

isabelle, tessa, and sophie are all the same height (5’9”, or 175cm).

maia, by virtue of her BA in business management, is the only shadowhunger chronicles character with any formal qualification.

the lightwoods and herondales pass down heirlooms through opposite lines. the ruby necklace is only given to daughters; the birthmark only appears on men.

tessa is more closely related to jace than she is to kit, or than jace and kit are to each other.

consuls can only serve ten year terms.

the government structure of idris parallels the three branches of government: consul (executive), council (legislative), and clave (judiciary).

the inquisitor is more powerful than the consul.

the accords were re-signed in early 2007.

all of the mortal instruments takes place in the span of four months.

both maryse and jocelyn were pregnant at the time of the uprising (maryse with isabelle, jocelyn with clary).

bat is the pandemonium dj in city of bones, and the ‘curvy girl’ that glares at clary in the queue is maia.

clary is a fan of the doors.

most of the seelie/unseelie lore is inspired by holly black’s ‘tithe’ series; her characters also make small cameos, and there is a crossover short story.

isabelle sleeps in a pink peignoir set.

the short story ‘the voicemail of magnus bane’ suggests that there are portraits of gabriel lightwood in the new york institute.

the lightwoods were most likely imprisoned in the new york institute because they were involved in the slaughter of the whitelaws, who had historically retained guardianship.

ragnor does not glamour his green skin.

magnus was originally intended to be a minor character.

an early draft of city of glass has jace purposefully trading simon to the clave instead of by accident. it was changed because it made him seem ‘too manipulative’.

the original prologue of city of bones was from jace’s point of view.

although the queen of air and darkness bonus short story suggests that jace doesn’t know what a minivan is, he previously mocked simon for driving one in city of bones, and even rode in it.

the fact that both the new york and the los angeles institutes have to conceal their internet access suggests that it might be illegal for shadowhunters to use it, hence jace not knowing what ebay is.

isabelle has stated several times that she wanted alec and magnus to have a fall-themed wedding.

alec is arachnophobic, but isabelle isn’t.

isabelle’s vision in city of heavenly fire shows that she plans on cutting her hair shorter in the future, just like aline did - implying that long hair is a beauty standard for shadowhunter women.

clary foreshadows the plot of the infernal devices in city of glass, stating that sebastian reminded her ‘of a dark prince who was cursed to have everyone he loved die’.

clary also directly foreshadows the cold peace by complaining that the only downworlder she can’t decide on a symbol for (for the new council members) are the fey.

all three of the men that alec has been shown to be attracted to not only have golden eyes, but also speak multiple languages - raphael is bilingual, jace is proficient in both ancient and modern languages (including italian), and magnus is a polyglot. this is in contrast to alec being light-eyed, and struggling with languages.

[yellowjeans]

I was tagged by @whokilledlordmorley thank you for tagging me!

rules: answer these questions and tag blogs you want to know better

name/nickname: Skylar (thinking of changing it tho)

gender: idk the/them pronouns tho

star sign: capricorn 

height: 5′3 

time: 8:30am

birthday: december 30th

favorite bands: 5sos 

favorite solo artists: dodie

song stuck in my head: Los Angeles-Oliva Olson

last movie: cars (my niece and nephew watch the movie every day)

last show: i have no idea

when did i create this blog: 

what do i post: anything tbh 

last thing googled: the name of my school

other blogs: none

do i get asks:sometimes but not offten

why i chose my url: I just really wanted change it doesnt really have any meaning tbh 

following: 855

followers: 577

average hours of sleep: 4 i think

lucky number: 90

instruments: I used to own a flut!

what am i wearing:school uniform shirt and shorts 

dream job: professor

dream trip: I dont know tbh ive never really thought about travling  

nationality: American

favorite song: I knew you once- Hollie Allen

last book read: Red White and Royal blue! 

top three fictional universes i’d like to live in: my hero academia, Nothing special(a webtoon), and Stardew valley

People im tagging! @artsy-enby09 , @dragonwithproblems , @wizenedbeanie and @rainbowrayndrops Only if they want to tho!

[randomvarious]

Waylon Jennings - “Amanda” The Heart of the Country Song released in 1974. Compilation released in 2000. Country / Outlaw Country

All apologies to Gram Parsons — who played great, straight country wrapped in a dope-smoking hippie cloak — but should one wish to find the embodiment of the always amorphous term that is country-rock, Waylon Jennings is it. He was weaned on Ernest Tubb and Elvis Presley, he was buddies with Buddy, and he became the face of Seventies country by skillfully folding rock & roll elements into a literate rootsy mix. It’s simply impossible to imagine southern rock, from Allman to Van Zant, and fringe country from Steve Earle to Uncle Tupelo without Waylon Jennings.

Those words, written by Andrew Dansby in a 2002 Rolling Stone obituary, outline the indelible mark that had been left by Waylon Jennings over his incredible 50-plus year career. Born in west Texas in a family of amateur musicians, Jennings became a local radio DJ at the mere age of twelve. For years, he struggled as a record spinner, sometimes busting out his guitar on air. But he was a known entity in the area, and one day, started a professional relationship with the budding rock and roll superstar Buddy Holly. Holly produced Jennings’ first records, and in turn, Jennings became Holly’s bassist.

But, as you might know, that relationship didn’t last very long. Holly was part of a traveling music revue of sorts that was on tour in the dead of a good ol’ midwestern winter. Along with him were Ritchie Valens, The Big Bopper, Dion and the Belmonts, and Holly’s band, including Jennings. Whoever was responsible for booking and arranging the tour did a remarkably awful job of planning it out. The buses that were used to travel suffered breakdowns, including the heating system. One of the band members caught frostbite and a flu started to go around. Holly, who could not stand another waking moment on the road, decided to take to the sky instead and chartered a plane to get to the next tour stop. But the plane wasn’t big enough to fit everyone. Jennings was arranged to fly on the plane with Holly, but The Big Bopper, who had caught that flu and who felt physically uncomfortable riding the bus due to his size, convinced Jennings otherwise. Once Holly had found out that Jennings wouldn’t be flying with him, Holly joked to Jennings, “Well, I hope your ol’ bus freezes up!” To which Jennings replied, “Well, I hope your ol’ plane crashes!” And around 90 minutes later, Holly’s plane crashed. On board with him were Ritchie Valens, The Big Bopper, and the plane’s ill-equipped pilot. There were no survivors.

This, of course, affected Jennings deeply. Not only did he lose a great friend, but it could have been him on that plane. Throughout most of the rest of his life, he would struggle with substance abuse and addiction. It wasn’t the sole reason for these issues, but it was a big one. The circumstances of the crash, the realization of how everything that one works towards can disappear in an instant, and his last conversation with Holly weighed heavily and permanently on his mind.

Jennings left his radio job and moved to Arizona, where his solo career slowly began to blossom. He earned a residency at a popular club, which led to a signing at A&M Records in Los Angeles. A&M wanted him to be more of a folk artist than a country one, and so, when he got the chance, he moved to Nashville and signed with RCA. But this didn’t fit him either. Nashville was too preoccupied with crass commercialism and churning out hits. They were very strict and operated like a well-oiled machine. They had no inkling to try anything new and implored Jennings to use their seasoned session musicians instead of his own band. Jennings resented all these constraints and artifice and decided to push on, pioneering a new movement for the 70s: outlaw country.

Outlaw country looked to take country music back to its roots. It was thinking man’s country. It had less polish than the glitzy Nashville studio sound and felt more authentic. It wasn’t afraid to take chances, and its stars were all marketed as renegades. They were rebels with deep thoughts and complex emotions. Outlaw country gave country music a much-needed human element and it sold millions of records. And Jennings was its centerpiece.

By the time he released The Ramblin’ Man in 1974, Jennings had racked up commercial accolades, but he hadn’t peaked yet. And while this album predated his peak years, it definitely laid the groundwork for them. Closing out the album was a cover of Don Williams’ “Amanda,” a minor country hit that had that squeaky-clean Nashville sheen. Jennings didn’t change any of the lyrics of the song, but listening to it, you’d think it fit him to a tee.

With his deep and smooth, yet rugged, country tone, Jennings sings about Amanda, a woman he loves, but knows he isn’t right for. He feels she’s entitled to much better as he’s just a man who’s been doing the same thing since he was a kid, and hasn’t matured into what she deserves. It’s a heartfelt and sad admission. All this success has left him with riches, but it’s also left him deeply flawed and feeling inadequate.

One line in the chorus strikes as bitterly poignant:

Fate should have made you a gentleman’s wife

The key word here is “fate”. This line suggests that Jennings feels that he’s upset the natural order of things. He doesn’t fit in with how events should play out. He’s in the way and he’s been a nuisance all his life. The idea of him being with Amanda strikes him as being an act of selfishness.

And one has to think that his conception of himself in relation to fate has to include that plane crash, which forever altered his own life. Again, he thinks his existence has upset the natural order of things. Had he been on that plane with Buddy Holly, he would have perished, and Amanda would’ve probably ended up being the wife of a perfectly fine gentleman. The way Jennings is viewing himself in this song is both sobering and really heartbreaking. Don Williams’ version had the same lyrics, but Jennings’ performance of it gives it whole other dimensions.

And the production is spectacular, too. I can’t find a credit for backing vocals, but to me, as far as the music goes, that rising, and then soaring, angelic female vocal that contrasts with Jennings’ depth, really puts this one over the top. Add to the fact, how layered it is, as Jennings wanders on his Telecaster, providing a bouncily thick twang, as the acoustic rhythm guitar underneath provides the strumming legwork to make it stand. 

It would take four and a half years for Jennings to release “Amanda” as a single, and it would become one of country’s biggest hits in 1979, being included on a Jennings greatest hits album. But that version was overdubbed, and, in my view, doesn’t have the same raw and intimate authenticity as the 1974 version. They’re both fine tunes, but Jennings’ original recording is the superior version.

One of Waylon Jennings’ greatest hits that predates the pinnacle of his career. A painful and profoundly touching song.

[cryptidkieren]

come around (4/6)

hi guys!! im sorry this took so long to get out, but these chapters are steadily getting longer (over 5000 on this one alone!!) and im working 2 jobs so balancing all that has been fun :)

yesterday was my BIRTHDAY so i cranked out the last 2000 words to get it out asap

hope you like it! 💛💛

ao3 link

-----

Crowley slept for a week and a half.

Aziraphale barely left his side during the first few days. He was strung as tight as a bow, his anxiety through the roof, as he waited for Heaven or Hell to come after them.

They didn’t, though, thank- someone.

By the time the angel finally calmed down enough to roam the apartment freely, Crowley’s wounds had healed completely. Only a thin white scar was left of the gaping wound on his chest, thankfully, though he knew the demon would be cross. Having gone close to 300 years without another miraculously healed injury would leave him a bit sour now that his streak was broken. Removing scars from their corporations that were healed with divine (or occult, on occasion) powers was difficult, so it was better in the long run to leave them be.

Aziraphale was prepared to deal with his pouting and snark, only because he knew how close Crowley had come to total destruction.

In his weaker moments, Aziraphale wished he had laid waste to Hastur that day in the alley for daring to harm his demon. The guilt would come rushing in, of course, even though he knew it was more than the revolting demon deserved.

He was less guilty about the righteous anger he felt towards the Archangels.

The angel didn’t know when they would come for him after the stunt he pulled with Uriel’s dagger, but he knew it would happen like he knew how he would react.

Aziraphale had chosen his side, after all, and nothing would get in his way of protecting Crowley.

-----

The day before the Winter Solstice, Crowley finally woke up.

Aziraphale had just returned to the sparse flat after checking in at the book shop, a take out cup of tea steaming in his hand, when saw his companion shuffling out of the bedroom. He nearly dropped the cup when he saw how the demon looked.

Crowley looked like death warmed over, his skin paler than normal from being inside for so long. His hair was a right mess and he was still without a shirt, his dark boxers slung low on his hips. The late afternoon sun streamed through the picture windows of the living room, setting the entire apartment ablaze in warm golden light.

He imagined this was a glimpse of what Crowley was like before he Fell.

“‘Lo, ‘Ziraphale,” he yawned, completely oblivious to Aziraphale’s inner turmoil. The demon lurched towards him suddenly, forcing a very undignified noise out of the angel.

The paper cup was stolen from his hand as Aziraphale blushed hotly, silently cursing his racing heart to Hell and back. Crowley hummed as he sipped on the tea, grimacing comically when he swallowed.

“Ugh, you always make your tea too sweet, angel.” The demon peered at him, his amber eyes still a little foggy with sleep. His cheeks were a bit flushed, faint pillow creases marking one side of his face, good Lord- “Why’re you so red? You alright?”

“It’s cold!” Aziraphale blurted out in a panic as his heart practically beat out of his chest. “Very cold, yes! Wasn’t very prepared, to be honest, those winds could sweep someone off their feet!”

Crowley scrutinized him a moment longer before appearing to accept the explanation, as inane as it was. The angel felt his ears burn as chagrin filled him, pressing a hand to his face before following the demon into the kitchen.

Propped up on the high bar stools at the island counter, Crowley sat hunched over the warm cup, the plastic lid tossed to the side. He looked about ready to fall back to sleep, despite how long he had been out already.

“How are you feeling, Crowley?” Aziraphale asked as he struggled to get onto the next seat at the counter. This happened every time, they were too bloody tall-

The demon snorted as he watched the angel wrestle himself onto the stool. “Loads better, honestly. Though I’m not really digging the new addition, if you know what I mean.” He gestured to the long scar across his chest with a sneer.

“I don’t think it’s terrible,” Aziraphale puffed, slightly out of breath from his battle with the chair. “It’s dashing, I think. Though I suppose you’re pleased that the one on your arm is gone.”

He reached over to touch the area of Crowley’s bicep where the cut had previously been. The skin there was perfect, as if nothing had happened in the first place. Non-miraculously healed injuries that befell them usually disappeared without a trace after a few days, so after taking out the stitches a day later, the demon was right as rain.

Aziraphale suddenly realized he was stroking the area where the injury had occupied and felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him. He glanced up at the demon, his cheeks flaming, as he stuttered out an apology. Crowley seemed a bit red himself as he bit into his bottom lip and turned his head away.

It was stiflingly quiet between them for a moment, the angel’s awkwardness growing by the second.

“Well!” Aziraphale yelped, a few octaves higher than he would’ve liked. “It’s good you woke up when you did, my dear, since Anathema’s party is tomorrow night!”

“Is it really?” Crowley sounded just like he always did, if a bit choked. The angel felt his heart drop a bit at the clear intent to dismiss what just happened. It was what he wanted, of course, but…

“I can’t believe I let Hastur, of all people, catch me by surprise and send me into a week long coma,” the demon lamented, almost knocking over the tea when he dropped his head into his hand dramatically.

“It was a week and a half, actually,” Aziraphale interrupted softly. He picked up the discarded cup lid to fiddle with, but mostly so he wouldn’t have to look the demon in the eyes. “A very long week and a half, but only just that. It could’ve been much worse.”

Crowley was silent for a short time after that. So when a cool hand covered his own, it forced Aziraphale to look up at his companion. His eyes swam with regret and fondness and- something else the angel couldn’t name.

“I am sorry, Aziraphale, for putting you through that,” the demon said equally softly. “But I’m just as glad that you were there. I don’t think any other angel could’ve scared Hastur so completely.”

Aziraphale smiled at the demon’s grin, patting his hand gently and, after a second of hesitation, dared to leave it there. “I’m glad I was there too, dear. Now, let’s head to the parlour to wrap these presents before tomorrow finds us. I waited for you.”

Crowley’s smile widened as his eyes sparkled with mischief, the sheer beauty of him making the angel lose his breath. Before he knew it, the demon had taken off towards the living room, where the presents had been piled high when the angel had nothing better to do.

Aziraphale found his lost breath and heaved a sigh, following after his demon. Crowley was going to be the death of him, he was sure.

-----

The following morning was hectic, to say the least. They had both fallen asleep on the living room rug, empty wine glasses knocked over and bits of wrapping paper strewn about. Aziraphale had been so relieved to have his friend back that the exhaustion that had plagued him from the day in the alley caught up, knocking him unconscious for the first time in a few decades after a glass too many. All of the presents had to be piled into the back of the Bentley, completely blocking the rear window, to Aziraphale’s distress.

Crowley had reassured him (“It’ll be fine, angel, I’ve been driving since they invented the car!”) but the angel wasn’t convinced.

They were on the road shortly after, though not before coming to a sort of compromise to keep them both sane during the trip. The music would be a touch louder than Aziraphale liked it, while Crowley drove a few notches slower than he preferred (if only to protect his leather armrests from the angel’s whiteknuckled grip).

Once they left London proper, the scenery flew by. The rolling green hills that usually surrounded the road were covered in powdery snow. It was almost blindingly white in the midmorning sun, making everything feel like a storybook.

It was peaceful, in a way their lives hadn’t been since moving to London all those centuries ago. The complete absence of towering buildings, the smell of the streets, and the ever present aura of so many people in one place was staggering compared to the open, quiet hills of the country.

Aziraphale’s thoughts aimlessly drifted during the ride. Crowley was surprisingly silent, only humming idly along with the long standing Queen tape. Before they knew it, the small sign for Tadfield village was upon them and they were rolling down the ancient cobbled streets.

Jasmine Cottage was as lovely as ever, even in the dead of winter. The expected greenery that surrounded the house was replaced with bare branches and copious amounts of snow. A large evergreen wreath, strung with holly, sprigs of rosemary, and white ribbon, hung on the front door. It sang of home: a warm meal, fire in the hearth, a good conversation deep into the night.

A group of bicycles were haphazardly piled by the front gate. The beginnings of a snowman stood off in the garden, where two heavily clothed figures were pushing the vague approximation of the head. The other two children in the garden were engaged in what looked to be a snowball fight to the death. A scream of laughter was heard as snow was pushed down the back of a coat.

Aziraphale smiled, catching Crowley’s eye across the center console as they pulled up to park. The demon had his own smile, a touch fonder than his own. He always knew Crowley had a soft spot for children, but it was especially tender for this group.

A chorus of “Mr. Crowley! Mr. Zira!” erupted as they clambered out of the Bentley. The two beings were almost tossed into the snow when the Them made impact, their hugs tight enough combined to knock the wind out of them.

“Hello, children!” wheezed Aziraphale, grinning widely through the pain. His hands came up to pat the two heads closest to him, which happened to be Pepper and Wensleydale. He heard Crowley issue a similar greeting to Adam and Brian, who had clung just as tightly to the demon. “Would you mind releasing me? Getting a tad hard to breathe, you see.”

“Actually,” Wensleydale started, causing Pepper to groan next to him. Thankfully, they let go of the angel before the boy got started on his expected commentary. “If you were really asphyxiating, your body would prioritize getting air into your lungs before speaking, so if you can talk you have plenty of air.”

“That’s fascinating, my boy,” Aziraphale tugged the boy’s hat down his forehead, eliciting a giggle. “I’ll keep that in mind next time I find myself struggling for air.”

Pepper snorted. “You’re an angel, Mr. Zira, it’s not like you need to breathe anyway.”

“Well, when you’ve up kept a habit for close to 6,000 years, it’s hard to break.”

“Quite right on that, angel,” Crowley smirked at him, causing the angel to roll his eyes back. “How’s things inside, Adam? Christmas in full swing and whatnot?”

“Oh, don’t call it Christmas, please,” Brian begged. The other children nodded solemnly around him, looking far too haunted. “Anathema will be very cross if you call it Christmas.”

“He’s right, you know,” called the woman in question, startling everyone gathered in the front garden. She smirked at them from her position of leaning against one of the posts by the door, appearing quite pleased with herself. Her long, dark hair was piled on top of her head in a messy bun, curls spilling about freely, as her sweater-clad shoulders shook with suppressed laughter. “Now, come inside before you all freeze to death. Don’t think I didn’t see you shove snow down Pepper’s jacket, Brian.”

Crowley and Aziraphale exchanged looks before ushering the children indoors. The presents that had taken over the backseat of the Bentley were miraculously placed under the modest size pine tree in the front room, but who could really tell how they got there?

Anathema and Newton had really outdone themselves, though the angel had nothing to base it against. The cottage was warm and homey, the smell of cooking meat and vegetables mixing pleasantly with the burning fire in the hearth. Boughs of evergreen and vines of ivy braided with red or white ribbon consisted of most of the decorations, though Aziraphale warily eyed the sprig of mistletoe hanging in the doorway of the living room; he would have to keep himself on his toes not to get caught under it.

“Wow,” remarked Crowley, peering above his glasses at the decorations. His eye seemed to have caught on the mistletoe, too. “Looks great.”

“Oh, Newt actually did most of the decorating,” Anathema called from the kitchen, where the children had followed after shedding their outerwear at the door. Aziraphale knew the demon well enough to know he rolled his eyes at their mess before snapping his fingers, all of the coats hung up and the snow boots neatly lined against the wall. Their own coats were also magically off them and onto the hooks on the walls. Chuckling, the angel led him after the group and into the very messy kitchen.

Bowls were strewn about the counters, spoons abandoned in their own sticky mess, flour dusted almost everything in sight, and there was Newton, standing at the stove with a spatula and a grin for the newcomers. “So glad you two could make it, considering London is so far.”

“Pah,” Crowley scoffed dramatically, prompting a round of giggles from the children and a fond smile from the angel beside him. “Nothing is too far for the Bentley, Newton.”

“Newt, please, Mr. Fell.”

“Then it’s Crowley to you, Newt,” The two shook hands, all very manly like. Aziraphale had to stifle a laugh.

“Well, now that we’ve introduced ourselves again,” Anathema rolled her eyes, though her grin gave her away. “Does anyone want wine?”

Aziraphale and Crowley graciously accepted glasses, while the children were given a stern look from the witch when they asked for the same. They were each given sparkling cider instead, so there were no further complaints.

The small group drank quietly for a moment before Anathema set down her glass.

“Alright then, does anyone want to help me decorate the tree?”

Predictably, the Them jumped at the request, running and shouting their way back to the living room. The sound of something glass shattering echoed back to the adults just as the witch yelled “Don't’ run in the house!” She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose under her glasses before pointing a severe finger at her boyfriend.

“We’re not having children any time soon.”

Newt only blinked, squeaking out a small “Yes, dear,” before the woman stormed off after the group of children.

Aziraphale grabbed the forgotten wine glass, watching as Crowley chuckled and turning Newt back to the stove firmly. Before the angel followed after Anathema, he heard his companion ask “How can you operate a stove without it exploding? I thought all machines were your enemy.”

The young man’s reply went unheard, instead drowned out by four pre-teens all loudly talking over each other. Aziraphale paused as he reached the doorway to the parlour, his smile growing as he watched this little group of humans they had claimed.

Anathema, her arms crossed tightly and her expression dark, only had to raise a hand to gain complete silence. A broken picture frame laid at her feet, the shards of glass scattered on the worn wood.

“I don’t want excuses,” she said quietly, since she had all of their attention. “I just want to know who broke it.”

A moment of stillness, the hesitance palpable in the air, before Adam stepped forward.

“I-I did, I’m sorry,” he murmured. He kept his eyes averted from hers, absolutely radiating regret and shame.

Anathema crouched a bit to be on eyelevel with the boy. She caught his gaze by ducking her head, a small smile on her face. “And what have we learned from this?”

“Not to run in the house…?”

“Right!” The witch’s smile widened as she stood back up. All of the children looked confused.

“You’re- You’re not going to yell? That I broke the picture?” Adam asked. His dark eyebrows were knit together, his nose scrunching up.

Anathema just put her hands on her hips. “Of course not. You already know you did something wrong and you apologized for it, so what would yelling accomplish? I’d just hurt my throat and it’s Solstice! No one should be sad today!”

Aziraphale hid his smile behind his glass, twitching his fingers to fix the broken frame. It flew back onto the table it previously occupied, the glass perfectly intact. A beautiful picture of Tonantzin, the Native Mexican goddess, sat in the frame.

The woman glanced back at him, her smile still in place as she nodded in thanks. She turned back to the group, who were inspecting the perfectly fine picture frame. “Do you guys want to set up the candles to burn later? You can make the shape whatever you want, as long as it connects together.”

The children wholeheartedly agreed to the task, immediately getting to work on the pile of long candles on the coffee table.

The angel handed Anathema her glass of wine when she joined him by the doorway. Her smile was bright as they watched the Them argue about what sort of shape they should make.

“They’re quite the handful, eh?” Aziraphale nudged her with a grin of his own.

The woman laughed into her glass. “Yeah, but they’re good kids. They’ve been helping me get this place together on the weekends.”

“I must say, you’re quite good with them,” the angel sipped at his wine, his smile fond as Brian and Adam broke out in a candlestick sword fight. “You’ll make a fantastic mother, should you choose to have any of your own.”

Anathema blushed, her smile growing wider as she looked at him. “Do you think so? Newt and I are young still, but I think I might want kids someday. Especially if they turn out like this lot.” She gestured to the children with her glass. Her eyes, hidden behind her circular glasses, were bright with emotion.

Aziraphale felt his chest tighten as he watched this young woman who he had come to admire and respect. One of his hands came up to lightly rest on her shoulder, bringing her attention back to him. “Of course I do, my dear. You and Newton will make wonderful, if entertaining, parents one day. You don't need a prophecy to tell you that.” He patted her shoulder gently as she hid her grin in her wine.

“My mother would kill me if I didn’t have a binding ceremony first. She’s still a little old fashioned that way.” Anathema giggled, her blush not receding the slightest. “What about you and Crowley, though? How long have you been married?”

Now it was the angel’s turn to flush in embarrassment. “Ah- Well, we’re not actually m-married.”

The woman raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Oh? Are you two just not for it? That’s understandable.”

“W-We’re actually not… Together. Like that. Romantically.”

At that, Anathema’s brows tried to merge with her hairline. “Really? That’s honestly quite- Oh, the invitation must have confused you both, sorry about that. I just assumed-”

“No no, it’s no problem, my dear,” Aziraphale waved off her apology, desperately trying to hide his burning face in his wine glass.

He knew it was over for him when a suspicious look entered Anathema’s eye.

“So… Does he know that you’re obviously in love with him?”

Aziraphale choked on his wine, briefly drawing the attention of the children. They quickly went back to their job when they saw he was alright. The witch hadn’t taken her eyes off him, cataloguing his reaction stoically.

“I-I don’t-”

All she had to do to cut the angel off was lift one of her dark brows, in a move quite reminiscent of Crowley. A moment passed between them, a battle of wills; one that Aziraphale quickly lost with a noisy sigh.

“He… Doesn’t. Feel that way about me, you see.”

Anathema then, to the angel’s surprise, snorted in disbelief. “Are you blind? He so obviously looks at you like you hung the moon, Aziraphale.”

“He really does,” piped in Adam from the couch. The other three nodded vigorously behind him. “That is, if you’re talking about Mr. Crowley. Though I suppose he would be quite put out if another person looked at you like my parents look at each other. I know my dad gets huffy when guys talk to my mom like he does.”

The angel buried his burning face in his hands, the drained wine glass hanging from his fingers. Just when he thought it couldn’t get any worse, Crowley’s voice was suddenly right next to him.

“Alright then, what’s going on in here?”

The room was silent, no one was even breathing, before the Them broke out into giggles.

Aziraphale raised his eyes from his hands, looking at the group of humans in confusion. Even Anathema and the freshly washed Newt were chuckling. The only one who wasn’t was Crowley, who looked just as confounded as him.

Crowley. Who was standing next to the angel. Under the living room doorway.

They both seemed to understand at the same moment, tilting their heads back to gaze at the pretty sprig of mistletoe hanging above them. Aziraphale felt his already blushing cheeks positively ignite just as Crowley’s face did the same.

They blinked at each other, a moment of embarrassed hesitation passing between them, before the demon scoffed.

Aziraphale felt gentle fingers on his chin tugging him towards his companion. His own fingers tightened rather involuntarily around the delicate stem of his empty wine glass. This wasn’t how the angel imagined how their first kiss would go-

“Relax, angel,” murmured Crowley, only inches from his face. His wine-laced breath was warm where it hit Aziraphale’s mouth. The angel felt faint, as he was reminded of the similar encounter they had in the former St. Beryl convent, as mortifying as that was. If the demon didn’t do something, he was going to-

A soft pair of lips firmly pressed against his cheek, just beside his mouth. Crowley pulled away with a loud ‘smack!’ which caused the children to start laughing again. The demon looked entirely too pleased with himself.

“Did you lot really think I’d give you a free show?”

The front door opened behind them suddenly, allowing the figures of Shadwell and Madame Tracey in from the cold. The two newcomers hadn’t immediately noticed the gathering, as Shadwell was complaining about something or other in his rough brogue.

When they did notice the group, all staring at the two red faced supernatural beings, Madame Tracey only quirked a smile while her companion looked at them in confusion. “Ay, what’s all this, then? Yer waitin’ for a photo or what?”

-----

The rest of the evening passed rather comfortably after that. Wine and tea were given to the older couple and presents were passed around. The group of children gathered the most, of course, but everyone got at least one present from their otherworldly friends.

Anathema in particular was delighted by the ancient pagan books Aziraphale had gifted her, swearing to keep them safe and preserved under her care. The talisman Crowley gave her and Newt to protect the cottage against anyone who wished to do them harm was also greeted with equal enthusiasm.

Aziraphale had to nudge the demon with a grin for that one. Crowley only responded with a huff, his cheeks coloring as he muttered about “necessary precautions.”

Dinner was marvelous, though a bit pedestrian by the angel’s usual standards. Newt had turned out to be a very proficient cook, though the amount of compliments he received turned him bashful. The wine flowed as much as the laughter did, smaller pairs or groups having several conversations at once.

They continued to drink, popping open the bottle of champagne that Madame Tracey had brought around sunset. Someone had put on music at some point, soft guitar and piano mixing together to create a cozy atmosphere, though Aziraphale couldn’t tell who did to save his life.

He was comfortably chatting with Anathema and Madame Tracey in the living room when he saw Crowley flapping his arms around in a strange dance with the children. Adam and Pepper were the best at the dance, from what the angel could tell, though Wensleydale and Brian were nowhere near as bad as Crowley.

Aziraphale snorted into his half empty glass. “C-Crowley, dear, what on earth are you doing?”

“It’s called a ‘flosser!’” The demon was grinning widely, his glasses abandoned at some point in the evening, allowing his slitted eyes to sparkle with amusement.

Pepper sniggered as the boys groaned around her. “It’s not ‘flosser,’ Mr. Crowley! It’s ‘flossing!’”

The group on the couch devolved into giggles as Crowley dramatically rolled his eyes, his hips still swinging out of time with his arms and making him look quite foolish. The children continued to perform their strange dance when the demon broke off from the line, tossing himself inelegantly to sit at Aziraphale’s feet. His back was warm and solid against the angel’s shins.

Aziraphale quickly found his glass emptied.

The music on the radio changed just as the Them abandoned their dance in lieu of playing their half finished board game. Crowley, who the angel assumed had fallen asleep since he hadn’t moved in a bit, perked up as a gentle guitar sounded through the machine. He tilted his head back with a wicked grin, essentially planting it in Aziraphale’s lap.

“Want to show them real dancing, angel?”

“Oh,” Aziraphale blinked in surprise, a little woozy from the amount of glasses he had emptied during the visit. “I don’t th-think I’ll be up to a gavotte currently, dear. Think I might’ve had a tad too much.” He wiggled his glass with a smile, making Anathema and Madame Tracey laugh next to him.

Crowley rolled his eyes as he stood, taking the still wiggling glass from the angel’s hands. “That’s not dancing, Aziraphale, no one wants to see that.” It was quickly passed off to one of the women and suddenly the angel was pulled to his feet.

He stumbled a bit on the rug, firm hands holding onto his arms and keeping him upright. Crowley smirked at him as they stood in the middle of the room. “C’mon now, angel, you never let me teach you the waltz in the 17th century! You owe me!”

“I don’t believe there’s enough room for a waltz, Crowley,” Aziraphale raised an eyebrow at the demon, trying to hold in his laughter at the silly excuse. He knew how much Crowley enjoyed dancing, making up crazier and more inappropriate dance trends as the centuries went on just to get a laugh. “Not quite a ballroom in Versailles, I’m afraid.”

“We’ll make due,” the demon nodded decisively, already reaching for the angel’s waist.

Aziraphale suddenly realised how bad of an idea this was.

“Ah- Well- I can’t really dance, you see,” he stuttered out as one of his hands was captured in Crowley’s own. The demon only stared at him blankly, looking unimpressed. Aziraphale held out for a moment, trying to convince him to let it go, before sighing and giving in.

Crowley’s shoulder was firm under his hand, the angel couldn’t help but notice. He tried to hide his warm face by staring at their feet.

The demon spun them in a slow, easy box step, murmuring encouragement as they went. Aziraphale eventually gained confidence after not stepping on his partner’s foot, allowing Crowley to speed up the dance to match the music.

Anathema and Newt joined them after a few minutes, spinning around in circles and laughing instead of actually dancing the waltz. Madame Tracey could be heard trying to convince Shadwell to dance, to no avail. Soon, though, the older woman was led in by Adam, making everyone smile.

The ethereal and occult pair eventually slowed their dance, only rocking in a slow circle in one spot. They had moved quite close together and Aziraphale, in all his tipsy brilliance, had rested his head against Crowley’s shoulder. He was very comfortable, if a bit bony.

“This is nice,” the angel sighed, his eyes closed. He felt more than heard the demon chuckle.

“It is,” he agreed. His voice was softer than normal, a touch deeper. Aziraphale quite liked it. “And we could’ve been doing it this whole time, too.”

Aziraphale hummed. The combination of the alcohol, the slow dance, and Crowley’s warmth was lulling him to sleep, so he chalked up the kiss he felt on his brow to his impending dreams.

“I think it’s time to go, darling,” the demon whispered. They had stopped dancing, standing in the living room wrapped up in each other. The angel hummed again, already half asleep in Crowley’s arms.

He heard a soft laugh as an arm wrapped around his waist, tugging him along. Murmured voices surrounded Aziraphale as he was moved through the cottage, his steps stumbling and clunky.

He woke a bit more when a blast of cold air hit him square in the face. They had gotten outside, his coat somehow on without his input. The full moon above them provided ample light to see, though they didn’t really need it. The snow shined in the light, making everything else seem washed out in comparison. It was quite beautiful, even the half asleep angel could recognize that.

Crowley helped him get into the Bentley, actually lifting his feet into the car when Aziraphale forgot to.

“Honestly, angel, I can’t take you anywhere,” he joked, his breath coming out in little puffs of steam. His skin was white in the moonlight, glowing like the snow that surrounded them. ‘He's quite beautiful, isn't he,’ thought the angel distantly.

The demon started to move back to close the door when Aziraphale reached for him.

“We should stay,” the angel muttered.

“What? Stay? You’re about to pass out.”

“Hmm, no, not stay stay, but get out of the city.”

Crowley was silent, causing Aziraphale to pry his eyes open (when did they close?) to see what was wrong. He was just standing there, the angel’s hand still on his wrist, looking- hopeful? Confused? Oh, he was too tired for subtlety.

“I’m asking you to run away to the country with me, Crowley.” Aziraphale grinned sleepily at him, his eyes already sliding shut again. The angel felt his hand taken off Crowley and tucked gently into his lap. He was drifting off again when he felt something brush against his cheek, almost lovingly, and a sigh.

The door was shut and the driver’s side opened, the engine rumbling to life under them. The cab was immediately filled with heated air, forcing the angel to fall further into sleep.

Before succumbing totally to his dreams, Aziraphale swore he felt fingers lace through his own and another soft sigh from beside him.

The angel was asleep before he knew it.

-----

[beginning] // [previous chapter] // [next chapter]

[sfaioffical]

SAN FRANCISCO BAY AREA:

Kota Ezawa: National Anthem, and Mike Henderson’s At the Edge of Paradise Opening Friday, November 8 at Haines Gallery. On view through December 14, 2019.

National Anthem, the artist’s most recent project is a stirring and timely body of work that offers a powerful meditation on protest, patriotism, solidarity, and hope, depicting professional NFL athletes “taking a knee” during the national anthem to protest police brutality and the oppression of people of color.

Mike Henderson: At the Edge of Paradise, Henderson’s thirteenth solo exhibition at Haines Gallery, features a suite of newly created, large-scale abstract paintings whose complex palettes and carefully worked surfaces explore the tension between gestural and geometric abstraction.

The Qualitative Validation Principle - Marc Horowitz (2001) Ever Gold [Projects] presents The Qualitative Validation Principle, Marc Horowitz’s second solo exhibition with the gallery. On view November 9 – December 21, 2019.

BoundarySpan – a group exhibition featuring Michael Arcega (BFA 1999), Jimin Lee (MFA 1997), Paula Levine (MFA 1988), Sherwin Rio (MA 2019), Desiree Rios (MFA 2017) In a time of increasing divisiveness, separation, polarization, and fortified walls, artists can serve critical roles in building indirect associations, nurturing connections, and reminding us of the importance of considering a multitude of perspectives. BoundarySpan is a group exhibition at the Natalie and James Thompson Art Gallery displaying works by artists Michael Arcega, Jimin Lee, Paula Levine, Sherwin Rio, and Desiree Rios. On view November 12, 2019 - February 21, 2020

Shaw & Co. - Richard Shaw (BFA 1965, Martha Shaw (BFA 1966), Alice Shaw (MFA 1999), Virgil Shaw & Friends Gallery 16’s exhibition “Shaw & Co.” presents a collection of work by members of the Richard and Martha Shaw Family, plus a plethora of SFAI-affiliated artists—faculty and alums—including Richard Shaw, Martha Shaw, Alice Shaw, Rebeca Bollinger, Mike Henderson, Don Ed Hardy, Bob Hudson, Sahar Khoury, Alicia McCarthy, Jim Melchert, Ruby Neri, Cornelia Schulz, Wanxin Zhang, and more!

Völva Saga, Silenced – Monet Clark Join Monet for the opening of Völva Saga, Silenced, a 24 hour projected performance video at AP/SE on November 15. The piece will run 24 hours starting at noon with a request to gather at dusk 4:45, to 6pm

Savor The Moment and Table Testaments - Nancy Willis (MFA 2005) Nancy Willis will feature in two upcoming exhibitions this month. The first is Table Testaments which opens November 16 at Arts Benecia, then Savor The Moment opens November 23 at Chandra Cerrito / Art Advisors in Oakland.

Fresh Focus: Small Works Exhibition of Recent Bay Area MFA Artists - Jordan Taylor Holms (MFA 2019) On December 11, 2019 SFMoMA Artists Gallery opens this exhibition featuring small-size artworks by recent and current MFA artists of the Bay Area, including alumna Jordan Taylor Holms. The show will be on view through February 23, 2020.

NEW YORK

Urbanites and Ur-Beasts – Olive Ayhens (MFA 1969) On view October 30 – December 20, 2019 at Bookstein Projects, Urbanites and Ur-Beasts is Olive Ayhens fourth show with Lori Bookstein and the second at Bookstein Projects.

Umwelt - Christine Davis (BFA 1992), Patricia Olynyk, Meredith Tromble (SFAI faculty) Umwelt exposes the multilayered work of artists who engage with the sciences, while offering visitors a nuanced view of what science both is and can be. Meredith Tromble, Patricia Olynyk, and Christine Davis are artists who approach science as material for art. Through their works in digital media, installation, sculpture, and photography, Tromble, Olynyk, and Davis orient viewers to a playfully provocative and imaginative world of questioning. On view at BioBAT Art Space November 1, 2019 – March 30, 2020

Women in Possession of Good Fortune - Kira Nam Greene (BFA 2002) Women in Possession of Good Fortune, an exhibition by Kira Nam Greene, refers to the opening lines of Jane Austen’s novel, “Pride and Prejudice” and alludes to both the persistence of sexist assumptions and the achievements made by women from different races, ages and sexual orientations. On view at Lyons Wier Gallery November 7th - December 7th, 2019.

Catch and Release - Carolanna Parlato (MFA 1980) Often employing only a few colors and compositional elements, Parlato’s newest paintings are efficient in their drama and demonstrate the sheer power of limits: just this much is just enough. Carolanna Parlata’s solo show, on view at Morgan Lehman November 7 – December 14, 2019.

Liz Atz and Gelah Penn: Splice - Gelah Penn (MFA 1973) Please join us in celebrating alum Gelah Penn during the opening of Splice on November 22 at The Yard: City Hall Park.

Los Angeles, CA

Units by Seth Lower (MFA 2008) On January 9, 2020 Seth Lower will host a book launch and signing for his latest, Units at Book Soup in Los Angeles. “Units contains photographs taken from 1994–2017. The images depict a variety of everyday materials and situations, many seen in sets, parts, or multiples. Within such scenes, Lower seeks out a kind of integrity (or lack thereof): standards of measurement, materiality, vague questions about the boundaries of entities and experience.”

NEW JERSEY AND ONLINE

Show Me Your Neon and Winter Solstice – group exhibitions featuring Holly Wong (MFA 1995) Show Me Your Neon is on view November 18 – December 31, 2019 at Gallery 1202.Holly creates installations, assemblages and works on paper, integrating non-traditional approaches with more traditional sewing techniques associated with the history of women. Her approach is both non-conventional but also deeply rooted in her history and culture. Winter Solstice opens November 16 at MarinMOCA and is on view through December 22, 2019.

Paul Valadez (BFA 1997) Visiones Latinx: Selections from the Permanent Collection and Mucho Caramelo If you are in New Jersey before December 11, 2019 check out Paul Valadez’s group show Visiones Latinx: Selections from the Permanent Collection, and click the link above to view Mucho Caramelo, an online exhibition of Paul’s recent gift to the Latin American Studies program at University of the Pacific in Stockton, California.

Seattle, WA

Boundaries – Claire Brandt (MFA 2005) Boundaries, opening Nov. 14 and on view through December 9, 2019 at The Factory in Seattle, WA is an exhibition of Claire Brandt’s paintings and a performance of States of Being Traced, her interactive drawing project.

Austin, TX

Allochory – Jamie Spinello (MFA 2007) Jamie Spinello’s 7 foot tall sculpture, "Allochory”, will open on Saturday, November 16 as part of an outdoor sculpture group exhibit, "Convergence". “Convergence” is a collection of public art works that were funded by the City of Austin for 2019 as part of the Art In Public Places, Tempo Program. This is an official registered East Austin Studio Tour Event located at #456 on the tour map.

Top image credit: (left) Jordan Taylor Holms, Holy Grails and Zero Degrees, 2019, Acrylic on canvas, 24 x 20 inches. (right) Jordan Taylor Holms, Look the Part, 2019, Acrylic and oil pastel on canvas, 13 x 11 inches.

[bloodybells1]

Motley Boo: The Dirt 2019 and a Tertiary Failure to Reframe the “Baddest Band”’s History within Patriarchal Discourse

It’s difficult to overstate the impact Mötley Crüe made on the history of heavy metal with their 1981 debut album, Too Fast For Love. Raw, phlegmatic, and, yes, fast—it clocks in at less than 40 minutes—the album dropped into the world of heavy metal like a megaton anvil (or a turbocharged racer, depending on how you looked at it). The repercussions were conclusive and far-reaching. Shortly after the release, the band would support established acts like Kiss on the road, and later followed up the record with an even bigger smash hit, Shout at the Devil, permanently engraving them into the annals of heavy metal. 

What distinguished this freshmen effort in the larger context of the metal scene, however, was the band’s—well, really, Nikki Sixx’s—intelligent cross-referencing of glam rock optics within the giant soundscape of the Marshall amp set. Almost a decade before Guns’n’Roses would introduce a similarly decadent soupcon of glam rock attitude into heavy metal’s DNA (more in the form of LA dispossession, but you know what I mean), there stood Crüe, bow-tying the cranked distortion of heavy metal with an androgynous, lipstick-smeared pucker.

Yet, the record was more than just a public relations gambit to redesign heavy metal in the image of T. Rex. After all, it seemed the band had actually made a great album. It was good enough to make it into the mixtapes of LA punks and New York skinheads, at least, as well as those of breadbasket-America headbangers—quite a feat for a band that cared little for the punk scene’s headier nihilism. Punks, for their part, looked past the cockrocking and focused instead on the record’s straightforward production and live sound. As it turned out, it was a good sign that a band like Crüe, for all their apparent fluffiness and ostensibly commercial leanings, had gained the favor of this more reticent community, having passed the “canary in the coal mine” test of punk rock’s preoccupation with authenticity.

And yet, I bet the first thing that comes to mind when prompted by the name of Mötley Crüe, at least to that of the layman, isn’t the infectious speed of “Live Wire”’s thunderclap-opening riff, but rather the band’s notoriously depraved extracurricular reputation. In fact, the quartet was already infamous for debauched hedonism prior to their even getting signed, the lore going back to their salad days as local lotharios at the Viper Room in downtown Los Angeles. Right out of the gate, they were as famous for fornication and drug abuse as for their music. 

Far from discouraging the storyline of excess, Crüe seemed right at home with their association with drugs and sex. The emphasis on carnality became a career-long feature of their mystique, both as a marketing strategy and as a core element of the philosophy implied in their music. Ultimately, they would enshrine this element in the form of a tell-all, committing all the sordid details of their exploits to paper in their aptly-named 2001 anthology of licensed sin, The Dirt. 

Couched as an entry of the confessional genre, the volume was jointly written in equal parts by each band member, offering long, anecdotal chapters, written in an extemporaneous, oral style. The accounts dove deep into the cesspool of their origins and the progress of their career. Obviously, the band didn’t write an exhaustive account of their entire story up to 2001, when the book was published, on their own; journalist Neil Strauss adroitly arranges their tracts with a wink and a nod. Not satisfied with a simple tell-all, though, he weaves the band members’ submitted drafts and “journal entries” into a grand narrative fabric that belies not only Strauss’s objective’s gaze, but a teleological vision of the price of fame, a tale steeped in storied entries of similar abasement, perhaps dating all the way back to Joris-Karl Huysmans’ A rebours.

Despite The Dirt’s clear insistence on the prevalence of moral transactionalism, it has nonetheless become known as a foundational text for the “sex, drugs, and rock ’n’ roll” trope of decadence. Readers seem to cherish the opening chapters of early hedonic excess without making much of the larger morality play laid out through the book’s end. The earlier chapters are so naked (excuse the pun) in their reportage of the band’s debauched activities, they’ve been taken as advertisements for that behavior. This rendering misappropriates the book’s real value—as a text on moral cosmology—by turning it into further glorification of rock’n’roll’s early hedonistic credo. Those early chapters are really a set up for what the book truly is, and should be known for most, that is, a discrediting of that credo.

The Dirt makes a clear case that the band has paid for their excesses—Vince Neil loses his daughter, Nikki Sixx almost dies, Mick Mars fights his way up to become the true sage in the band, Tommy Lee keeps getting divorced. These facts are laid out convincingly through a simple prose style: diaristic reportage of the self that, through careful pacing, mines deeper and deeper levels of personal pain and reckoning. Strauss is methodical in doling out these sojourns into the moral deep, making sure not to preempt their trials with hints of the future (never mind that we know how the story ends). This, along with the distinct voice of each band member, has the added effect of keeping the reader on the edge of their seat.

The supranarrative that emerges by the final page, one that supplants the traditional one that the unsuspecting reader no doubt imports into the book from decades of formulaic pandering to baser perspectives, states the fundamental primacy of Fate, that even the world’s most riotous band could not escape cosmic will. Mötley Crüe, as authors of the commodity known as “Mötley Crüe,” and through the media amplification of commodity fetishism, have become godlike and must be thrust down, made human again. Fate will make a human out of the man no matter how demiurgic he becomes. 

It’s no surprise that, with heady matter like this associated with a known commodity like Crüe, an early film deal sprang out of the publishing of the book. The Dirt came out in 2001, 20 years after Mötley Crüe came on the scene, and it has taken almost as much time for its dramatization, in the form of a Netflix biopic, to emerge. That’s a long time for a movie based on a book to come out, and there has understandably been a lot of anticipation.

Through the years, I’ve come to loathe biopics, which with few exceptions turn out to be the mere regurgitations of original texts, authored under viably artistic circumstances and trademarked, but then repeated by a committee of capitalist shills for a waiting audience eager to consume the brand anew. This explains why almost every biopic is a formulaic compendium, lacking any vision or direction, since its objective in the first place is to provide brand pornography for consumers of established texts.

It’s quite sad that the cinematic dramatization of The Dirt is no exception to this rule. It so exemplifies the craven absence of real art in the modern biopic as to appear almost comical at times. Indeed, when I looked at the image on my Netflix home page of the movie, I initially thought that perhaps someone had given Mötley Crüe’s inimitable story the Christopher Guest treatment.

Alas, no.

The movie is a sorry parade of every single biopic cliché that was ever established in the history of biopics. I won’t go into just how pathetically—shamelessly, even—this movie panders to the basest titillations of brand pornography. That sad fact has been firmly established by the critical consensus. (It carries a 43 percent Tomatometer on Rotten Tomatoes, a rating I, in fact, find charitable.) My point in writing about this infuriating piece of exploitative pablum is to direct the reader to the incredible missed opportunity of this movie.

As I’ve already written, the book’s greatest accomplishment is not the lascivious proxy to bad behavior its protracted tales of sexual promiscuity and substance abuse offer the more upstanding, less adventurous reader. It’s the successful reframing of the “sex, drugs and rock ’n’ roll” narrative as a cautionary tale. Granted, we’ve seen this story inscribed into the annals of pop stardom before the publishing of The Dirt (hello Buddy Holly movie, Walk the Line, et al). Yet, its innovation lies not in the mere fact of the reframing, but in its offering the pen to the miscreant author: The Dirt is perhaps the first bad boy memoir: a behind-the-scenes tell-all yes, though of the Gore Vidal sort, and repurposed for the headbanger set with a moral edge.

By 2001, it had long been understood that this snot-nosed gang of aging rockers no longer had a decent recording in them (that’s no criticism if you believe, as I do, that the artform of rock music entails an inherent expiration date).  Instead, they produced a memoir that, shot straight from their shaky typewriters and notebooks, reinvents the band as willing atoners. In so doing they reemerge as personal subjects of a grand, cautionary tale, a heavy metal story for the era of Oprah, if you will. Mötley Crüe, then, performed a more authentic act in the writing of this book than any album they would have dared record.

Yet, along the current of its blood-soaked river of retribution, The Dirt, misses one crucial point of reckoning, one that positively begs for further exploration. 

Thanks to the #MeToo revolution, we are now given a critical apparatus to judge the excesses of the past committed in the name of patriarchy. Prior to this revolution, texts containing sexist, heteronormative givens were accepted reflexively by the zeitgeist. These were mythologies that historically debased and objectified women as the enslaved recipients of male lust, simple organs of the hedonic will of masculinity. We might have laughed at the music video for “Looks that Kill,” which features, among other debasing tropes, a gaggle of women in generic Neanderthal livery, but today we laugh harder—and more painfully. We no longer turn our eyes away from the now obvious rooting of this imagery in patriarchal attitudes.

The Dirt admittedly has almost nothing to offer by way of a #MeToo moment. (Early kudos, though, to Mick Mars who dedicates many of his paragraphs to the ludicrousness of male promiscuity.) But this isn’t necessarily a shortcoming of the book, anymore than that we may fault any number of classic stories and records that import similarly unexamined masculine, heteronormative givens into the 21st Century. As late as 2001, our eyes were yet glazed over with the unquestioned spectacle of male desire. Furthermore, the book is rife with vulnerable emoting and painful rumination. It thereby confers it an atmosphere of thoughtfulness. To a certain extent this vitiates against accusations of insensitivity.

But this potential forgiveness isn’t possible in cinema, where the taut storyline and shorter format require a more conclusive, unshaded verdict. Never mind that in 2019 it’s positively inexcusable. The #MeToo movement has today firmly established a visible discourse that supersedes antique notions of male desire, yet the movie seems to have taken no note of this seismic occurrence. To name but one of the movie’s baffling examples of cultural myopia, there are at least two scenes portraying women materializing out of the darkness underneath dining room tables, complete with satiated visages fresh from a round of clandestine fellatio. This is only one of the movie’s dated pickings from pre-#MeToo boilerplate, but it is perhaps the most glaring.

The film seems to conflate factual verisimilitude and hindsight objectivity; to which the simple response is that portraying something “as it was” doesn’t inoculate you from the sins of the past. One need only watch a couple seasons of another Netflix offering that traffics in garish ‘80s pop-cultural paraphernalia, GLOW, to witness a successful handling of these two elements. Many of the antique notions that were part and parcel in the ‘80s are now clearly offensive from today’s standards of race and sex discourse. These are reframed as racist and sexist mythologizing by the show’s deep dives into the family life of one of the African American wrestlers.

There’s nary a hint of this sort of wokeness from the film version of The Dirt. You really have to scratch your head as to how the committee let this fly, not to mention how desperate anyone would need to be in order to ignore such profligate tone-deafness under their collective noses.

The Dirt in 2019 truly encapsulates the most tragic outcome of a band like Mötley Crüe. The film’s failure as a work of art is not surprising when you consider that most biopics fail in that regard (Bohemian Rhapsody, anyone?). But the movie’s failure becomes truly irretrievable, of a completely different order of magnitude, when you consider that Mötley Crüe missed another opportunity to reframe themselves along the contours of contemporary discourse. They were successful in 2001, when, during the era of Oprah, they took their foundational text of rock’n’roll hedonism and reframed it as a personalized descent into Orphic confrontation. This gave us cause for hope in 2019, during the era of #MeToo, when the missing piece of that story, the accounting with the greater societal harm caused by unexamined patriarchy, was given an incredible opportunity to be placed back into the spine of the band’s legacy. Unfortunately, as Netflix and Mötley Crüe have made clear, the hope was misplaced.

[rustandruin]

Hiii my cutie 💕 top five wlw stories please? In any genre and medium

Three for three so far! Because this is another stellar ask — as well as a nice reminder of how far media has come, because not only are most of these recent, but I didn’t have to try too hard to find happy, more positive ones. And even better, I really could find stuff in most of my favouite genres. Viva more inclusive media!

P.S. It was actually hard to limit these to only five! 

Let’s hope that trend continues:

OBLIGATORY MENTION: It’s a low-level crime, that Brooklyn Nine-Nine‘s Rosa and Alicia (Gina Rodriguez’s character) can’t be on this list. But seeing as that they haven’t had more than an adorable meet-cute at this point, I couldn’t justify it to myself. But I feel the need to note that if we are fortunate enough to have her reprise this role in at least a minor recurring capacity next season, you’ll have to come and resuscitate me, because I’ll probably be dead. Like. Look at this!!! (I’m all three of them in this scene.) 

5. Amy and Lucy (D. E. B. S.)

What happens when you’re your spy agency’s top agent, but you just happen to be set up on a blind date with and then fall for the criminal mastermind who’s the basis of your thesis project? This movie. Directed by Angela Robinson (who herself is queer and also responsible for the polyamorous Wonder Woman creators backstory film Professor Marston and the Wonder Women last year), this film is a tongue-in-cheek parody of Charlie’s Angels. This means lots of wacky spy hijinks and some cheesy dialogue, but it truly feels like the queer spy AU I’ve always wanted. I also appreciate that there’s a B-story about female friendship and what it means when your friend embarks on a new relationship. (Side Note: This movie pairs perfectly with Spice World and SClub: Seeing Double, you’re welcome.) 

4. Goldie and Diane (Goldie Vance)

Goldie is pretty much living my dream ages 7 to.. well, pretty much now, seeing as she works at a local holiday resort where she also solves mysteries with the help of her best friend Cheryl (who wants to be an astronaut) and her girlfriend Diane (seen in all her chic glory, below). This comic is relatively new but it’s one of my all-time favourites because the art style is gorgeous and retro, the mysteries are fun and modern, and Goldie herself is fully-fledged and already iconic. And on top of all that, we get to see her initial crush on Diane, followed by them beginning a relationship all with very little drama. It’s cute and sweet, just what this book and our hero deserve. Also, I know it sounds weird, but I kind of have a crush on Diane. She’s just so ridiculously cool. (And she’s not even wearing her leather jacket.) 

3. Lena and Stef (The Fosters)

I haven’t caught up on the last two seasons of this series, but I did catch a bit of the season finale (which really focused on their relationship and Stef coming to terms with her dad’s death and his not having accepted their relationship) and it just drove home how special it was to be able to watch five seasons of a loving, committed lesbian relationship play out on TV. These ladies have been through so much together — and that’s excluding the insanity their five kids put them through. And I know they’ve gone through some rough patches, but it made me only love them more because relationships can be hard and require work and it was nice to see both these women doing their best to put in the effort. But more than that, the show allowed us to see them be funny and sexy and cute and domestic, amidst all the drama, which only makes this relationship so special. I hope we’re all lucky to find that kind of partnership some day. 

2. Carmilla and Laura Hollis (Carmilla)

Freshman journalist investigates and then falls for dark and mysterious vampire roommate, and then proceeds to get into all sorts of vampiric and demonic shenanigans with their inclusive group of friends. It sounds like some kind of wild fanfic idea, only it’s a real web series that ran for three seasons and then blessed us with a movie. And honestly, there is so much to love about Carmilla and Laura’s relationship. They’re both the tough and strong one and the soft and sensitive one, and better yet, they take turns being that for each other. Their chemistry crackles, the emotions (both positive and negative) come through, and even more importantly, they’re endlessly watchable together. Because they have that push and pull and give and take that is at the heart of all great pairings — and I could not be more grateful to everyone involved.

1. Waverly Earp and Nicole Haught (Wynonna Earp) 

Just as her sister Wynonna is off learning how to become Wyatt Earp’s latest heir, the ever-delightful Waverly goes on the fun journey that is discovering that your sexuality isn’t as defined as you thought it was — especially when she falls for the cute new female police officer in town. (Of course, while all this is happening we’re graced with all kinds of revenant-hunting and demon fighting goodness where both women show off their admirable skillsets.) But the best part of Waverly exploring her bisexuality and feelings for Nicole is that in many ways we get to see the “real” Waverly come out when with someone who appreciates how smart and insightful she can be and treats her with all the respect and adoration she deserves. And the same is true for Nicole, who while also being softer and more vulnerable around Waverly, also lets her see her more ambitious and determined side. It’s a sign that both women are at their fullest with each other, trusting one another with the best and worst parts of themselves, which is what good relationship allow you to do — even if one of you is constantly in mortal danger. Bring on Season 3 already. 

HONOURARY MENTIONS: Valencia and Beth (Crazy Ex Girlfriend), Petra and JR (Jane the Virgin), Bingo Love by Tee Franklin (I haven’t read it yet, but I’ve heard good things), Black Lightning (I have yet to watch it because I was waiting to marathon it), Of Fire and Stars by Audrey Coulthurst, Ash by Malinda Lo, Rasha and Zoe (Degrassi: Next Class)

[brn1029]

June 24th in music history…

1965 - John Lennon

John Lennon's second book of poetry and drawings, 'A Spaniard In The Works', was published. The book consisted of nonsensical stories and drawings similar to the style of his 1964 book 'In His Own Write'.

1965 - The Hollies

The Hollies were at No.1 on the UK singles chart with 'I'm Alive', the group's first of two UK No.1's and over 25 other Top 40 singles. The Hollies originally passed the song over to another Manchester band, the Toggery Five, before changing their mind and recording the song, which was written for them by the US songwriter Clint Ballard, Jr.

1966 - The Rolling Stones

After holding a press conference aboard a yacht in New York City, The Rolling Stones kicked off their fifth North American tour at the Manning Bowl, Lynn, Massachusetts, with support acts The McCoys and The Standells.

1967 - Procol Harum

Procol Harum's ’A Whiter Shade Of Pale’ entered the Billboard chart, where it would peak at No 5. The song was written by the band around a melody composed by the group's organist, Matthew Fisher, who was inspired by the chord progression of Johann Sebastian Bach's 'Orchestral Suite in D', composed between 1725 and 1739.

1989 - Paul McCartney

Paul McCartney scored his seventh UK No.1 solo album with 'Flowers In The Dirt', featuring the single 'My Brave Face'.

2003 - Agnetha Faltskog

A man who had been deported from Sweden for stalking ABBA singer Agnetha Faeltskog was arrested near the singer's island retreat. Gert van der Graaf, 37, had been the singer's boyfriend from 1997 to 1999, but had been issued a restraining order barring him from seeing or talking to her in 2000.

2004 - Eric Clapton

A Fender Stratocaster that Eric Clapton nicknamed 'Blackie' sold at a Christie's auction for $959,500 (£564,412) in New York, making it the most expensive guitar in the world. The proceeds of the sale went towards Clapton's Crossroads addiction clinic, which he founded in 1998.

2010 - Led Zeppelin

A rare oversized two-part poster featuring Led Zeppelin, The New Barbarians and others at Knebworth Park on August 4th & 11th August, 1971, sold for £5,000 ($7,480) at a Christie’s Rock & Roll auction held in South Kensington, London. At the same auction, a print of Led Zeppelin backstage in front of blackboard taken at Tampa Stadium, June 3rd, 1977 sold for £1,500, ($2,244).

2012 - Elvis Presley

The crypt in which Elvis Presley was first buried was withdrawn from a Los Angeles auction after protests it should be kept as a shrine. More than 10,000 fans signed a petition against the sale of the tomb at Forest Hill Cemetery in Memphis, Tennessee. Julien's Auctions said it would not sell the crypt until the cemetery "finds a plan that best suits the interests of the fans while respecting and preserving the memory of Elvis".

2013 - Alan Myers

Former Devo drummer Alan Myers died aged 58 in Los Angeles, California, following a long bout with cancer. Myers drummed for Devo between 1976 and 1986.

2014 - Bob Dylan

A working draft of Bob Dylan's 'Like a Rolling Stone', set a record at auction after selling for $2m (£1.2m) at Sotheby's. The manuscript, said to be the only known draft of the final lyrics, was written in pencil in 1965 by the 24 year-old Dylan.

2016 - Led Zeppelin

A US jury concluded that Led Zeppelin did not copy the opening chords of 'Stairway To Heaven' from the US band Spirit, saying the riff Led Zeppelin was accused of taking from Spirit's 1967 song 'Taurus' "was not intrinsically similar" to Stairway's opening. During the trial, defence lawyers argued the chord progression in question was very common and had been in use for more than 300 years.

[thesweetblossoms]

Blossoming Pear Trees

🎼Breakfast at Tiffanys by Truman Capote, A Tree Grows In Brooklyn by Betty Smith and The Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton, are a few of my favorite books based in New York City. In each, I learned about the charms, qualities and history of the port town bordered by rivers and saturated with hopes, dreams, ambitions, adventures and ideas, each framed within its unique time and context. These books careful plots, characters, storyline, setting and subtexts offering a sliver of knowledge, into the eras thinking, behaving, cultural nuances, as well as the animated energies and perspectives, that shaped and influenced such a complex and captivating town.

In Breakfast at Tiffany’s, I was struck by the fathomless quarters of the heart, the vivacious and inimitable character of Holly Golightly, and the sumptuous homage to the renowned Manhattan nightlife, rife with its glamorous habitués, black silk Givenchy dresses, cocktail soirées and scintillating repertee. I read The Tree Grows In Brooklyn, while living on Roosevelt Island. Within the pages of this delightful rendering of childhood memories, I was gripped by the historical flavor of Brooklyn, the memories of life as a small girl in a lively neighborhood, and the universal experience of being a child tempered heavily with the backdrop of a multicultural new land. The Age of Innocence, portrays another world within the five boroughs, it spotlights, the heady world of upper east side mansions, park avenue town homes, sea escapes to Newport and Long Island, the closely knit and highly structured world of the old New York elite, and the inevitable barriers that plant themselves, in the purest love stories. The book is strewn with references and symbolic meanings of flowers; ‘His eye lit on a cluster of yellow roses. He had never seen any as sun-golden before, and his first instinct was to send them to May instead of the lilies. But they did not look like her- there was something too rich, too strong, in their fiery beauty.’

Having studied and lived in NYC for eight years during my early twenties to early thirties, I often miss the alchemical rush, fearlessness, possibility, dreamlike and magical qualities of living and experiencing one of the great world cities. Thus, a setting in Manhattan brings back the memories of my own time in the city, whether in the faint refrain of notes of music drifting from long ago nights dancing, flirting and imbibing cocktails in Soho with my dearest friends, remembering the anticipation of getting ready for nights out, in short, white, party dresses, also sprinkled with hazy recollections of ending up at somebodies apartment watching the sunrise over the east river, or rainy, rose and iris strewn June walks in Central Park, or hot chocolate from a café near the Met Museum, or of teetering in four inch hot pink stilettos to law firms in midtown or Wall Street, or even further, back to my first night of Law School, crying myself to sleep in a dark dorm room in Greenwich Village, to the day I left, unsure of the journey as the cab carried me across the midtown bridge to the airport, Manhattan lit up behind me, my passage barely dimming its intensity or power. My first stop was to spend a few weeks in the South of France before moving to Vancouver. While those trillion and one lights in the epic skyline glittered farewell, I didn’t know that I would create homes soon, in Vancouver, Los Angeles, Toronto and in my current home in palmy, light saturated and desert bewitched Phoenix, all within half a decade of leaving New York.

Of course, when I miss the city and its aphrodisiacal properties, reading a lighthearted, expressive and engrossing book, such as Sweet Bitter by Stephanie Danler, is transportive and thoroughly entertaining. In this book, I follow the hectic, hedonistic, raucous, fast paced and party filled days and nights of Tess, the small town heroine who moves to the city with hardly any money, to work at a celebrated and iconic NYC restaurant. The most riveting elements of the narrative beyond the illuminating yet relatively common premise of being young, confused, riddled with anxiety about the future, driven to the edges of exploration and self discovery, are the careful and considered details that are painstakingly layered, by the author, like nacre accumulating on a shell, to create a picture of one persons bewildering unfurling of time and space; of developing a crush and falling in love, of connecting with other people through post work hours of heavy drinking and drugs, of everyday group camaraderie, of obstacles and of the costs of taking a chance, of being hurt by the many thorns, blind spots and fractures within reality and of times reluctance to reveal the truthful bitter notes of existence to the untried and uninitiated. Along with the protagonists evolving ability to understand her own capacity for work, of her desire to party, and to chase the object of her desire at the risk of rejection, we are gifted with a rich, informative, luscious, compelling and beautifully conveyed dialogue, steeped in knowledge, brimming with anecdotes and lush with poetic names of revered wines, sherries and champagne. Readers are granted an epicurean education into the sybaritic realms of hospitality, of torn figs, marcona almonds, black truffle laced risotto, of fine cheeses, of terroir, of perfumery and of the effervescence, of those who chase the ephemeral, whether in briny winter oysters, mornings commenced with espresso and closed with half discarded bottles of celebrated wine, in rootless love affairs and in risking everything for the intoxicating New York City moment.

Sometimes nostalgia hits in painful ways, like a cut, tearing skin when scraping against a jagged wall, yet when I see my little son who was born in the city, or my husband, whom I met therein, or my daughter, who might one day visit my favorite museums such as The American Museum of Natural History on the Upper East Side, I don’t miss it that much, I become lost in my current adventure, in baking the family walnut, chocolate chip banana bread, in cutting shell white roses from my balcony garden, in hiking in the charged desert and realizing with the grace of hindsight, the I found both heartbreak and love, from a storied place, and that it is as close to me as my breath and as dear as the Callery pear trees that bloom in the early spring along the proud avenues and reverie misted streets.

Dwelling here in the present, I vow to write more about flowers. For a petal and dew drenched reality accumulates hope, positivity, happiness, reveries, ideas and inspirations. One is potently healed by the generosity and brilliance of blossoms, from witch hazel sprays, to lavender soap, to jasmine and vanilla perfume, to dried rose petal dipped madeleines to countless other floral injections. To be among flowers, is our most natural and exhilarating state, whether it is a summer picnic by a meadow of chamomile and violets, or a October harvest of basil blossoms and cosmos, or a spring seaside hike bordering a swell of wild lilies of the valley. Yet, no matter the climate, reading about flowers provides a season-less joy and bliss to those who might stumble upon a pressed peach pink peony, laid lovingly in the pages of The Painted Veil by M. Somerset Maugham, or to the person who receives a catalog of old roses, featuring Chateau De Malmaison from David Austin, or the person that seldom tires of dreaming about flowers, lost in the liminal botanical sphere, content with the written words about these delicate creatures, no matter the coordinates of the sun, or the exact location of ones own heart, beyond the garden.

In between the hours of work and play, sleep and wakefulness, dancing and being still, writing and reading, planting seeds and cutting flowers, I conduct a search for signs from the universe, fully aware, that there may be many that we are sorely deficient in sensitivity, imagination and consciousness to perceive. Perhaps these subtle jewel boxes of illumination render themselves mute, appearing as the earliest streaked lavender, roasted sweet potato orange and bleeding pink dawn in the morning, the horizon appearing as we are struggling to rise and challenge the random slights of the work week, or it could be the jasmine flower you discover on the desk by your computer, turning striped royal purple as it dries slowly, learning later, that it was left by a fellow attorney who has knowledge of your love for flowers, or maybe, proof of grace may arrive, as innocuously as the black holographic star decals, a gift sent along with the romper room nail polish you purchased in the mail, or it could be from the positive occurrence of an overdue text message from your beautiful, talented and successful law school roommate in Los Angeles. However, they appear, the ones that please you the most, are the ones you should carry closest to you, for these may be the keys to unlock your dreams, discover your nature and decipher your heart.

Though I often encounter unbounded bliss, dwelling in my garden by candlelight, under the mist laced stars, calmed by the analgesic dance of the palms and the steady flow of the water fountain, I have discovered an equal passion for delicate, fine or potent pieces of jewelry. My earliest memories of jewels are of tiny, delicate, faceted gold bangles, from my grandmother, that I wore on special occasions or events. I remember them mostly from old pictures of when I was four or five living in Sydney, but also recently, when my mother gave them to me, collecting them from the locker, for my little daughter to wear. Other reminisces include the memories of the joy, ceremony and fanfare when my parents gave my sister and I, little opal earrings as gifts, or when my mother lent me petite ruby and diamond flower studs to wear before a party, reminding me of their preciousness and to return them to her for safe keeping later. Perhaps, just as the energy, vibrations, subtle magic, healing and alchemical qualities of trapped fire, air, water and earth exert their influences over us, working in tangent with the myriad other cosmic objects that comprise reality, the wearer of these exquisite, handcrafted and artistic pieces also alter, influence and change the mystical qualities of the jewels. For after, I wear a piece, whether an heirloom, a vintage piece, or a newly commissioned trinket, I sense a change, both in my self and in the inanimate stone and metal. The jewel and the bejeweled act in concert to chase and trap the light, the anklet bells drifting into the music, the diamond engagement ring quietly drawing two souls closer and the emeralds earrings annotating the laughter and erasing the tears. 🎹

[liberace19]

LIBERACE’S CONSTANT COMPANION since boyhood has been his mother, Mrs. France Liberace. And like most other personal possessions in the Liberace home, his visitors’ book which they are looking over, is piano-shaped. The Liberace Story Lucrative And Glamorous Career Deliberately Planned By Liberace PART IV  What is the background of this amazing piano jilayer? What happened to make hii the idol he ist In this, the closing story on the secrets of Liberace, you get the answers.)  All of a sudden Liberace began thinking. He was taking a bath in the sunken tub dramatizing the bath room of his 5100,000 Sherman Oaks home and his thoughts dipped back to the past. He remembered his childhood in Milwaukee. He thought of the piano he started to love at the age of three how his dad Sam Liberace, withheld his lessons and his practice when Wladziu Valentino Liberace the current idol’s real name was a bad boy. “Unless you help your mother in the kitchen you can’t practice today,” father Liberace told the kid. And he remembered other things Hours of work play, really at the keyboard he loved …. Endless sessions with private tutors while other school boys played football …. Finally, his artistry already recognized, his piano debut with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra at the age of 16 … . Then “the road,” preparing his own food to cut down on expenses … , Billed as Walter Liberace, he thrilled cafe society in hotels and swank supper clubs from coast to coast. Even then, back in the late 30s, he planned a more lucrative and glamorous career. “I Wanted to reach peoplelots end lots of them,” Liberace whose nickname is Lee told friends recently. “I felt a kind of Skat, Gibby’s Tavern Every Saturday Afternoon N. 13th at Superior NORTH END SKAT CLUB Drawing 1:30 P.M. Pitying irti 2 frustration, an idea I had lots more to offer.” Joined by his fiddle-playing brother George, he began making concrete plans. They started a mailing list, informing his followers where they could expect to see him. It was in 1945 when Liberace saw the Chopin motion picture, “A Song to Remember” that he got the big idea. The candelabra on the piano, a Chopin character istic, impressed Liberace so much he started it himself. Years went by six of them before the Liberace hopes and dreams materialized into glittering actuality. . In the early months of 19ol, with his brother George and their attorney, John Ft. Jacobs Jr., he walked into the Hollywood Per sonal Management offices of Gabbe, Lutz and Heller a firm that already had zoomed Frankie Laine to fame. Familiar with the piano-antics of Liberace and realizing the pos sibilities, Sam Lutz and Seymore Heller signed him. Play At Ciro" Their first booking placed Liberace at Ciro’s on the Sunset Strip. Ciro’s management thought Liberace was terrific but they drew the line on one point. ,r “The guy would play forever if you’d let him,” complained Herman Plover, the owner. “He felt he owed his audience his all and he’d stay on as long as people applauded sometimes for longer than an hour. ’‘You can’t sell food or liquor while the show is on so we had to limit him to 30 minutes.” Right after the Ciro engage ment things started popping. Liberace was playing at the Hotel Del Coronado, across the bay from San Diego, when Don Fedderson, general manager of a Los Angeles television station, journeyed down to see the guy. fascinated with the way Liberace held his audience in the palm of his hand, Fedderson signed him to an exclusive TV conlract beginning in January, 1952. The rest is historybut before ;it happened there were many i problems. j Liberace’s sponsors soon ilearned a piano player and a vio-  linist (George) made a limited show. They wondered: “Should we brjng in production numbers singers and maybe a ballroom dancing team to per form while Liberace plays in the background?” They argued pro and con. But Fedderson insisted the only way to present Liberace was to duplicate his nightclub act on television … ’. the same lighting effects, the same candelabra, the same Liberace pitch to introduce brother George, his “Mom,” and other members of the cast. Fedderson, as the nation now knows, won out. First Television Show The first show went on without sponsorship and with little rehearsal time. But before it was over the sta tion switchboard lit up like Holly wood Boulevard at Christmas time. Four weeks later Liberace’s sponsor was the Citizen’s National Bank an institution promptly deluged with new accounts start ed by people “just because we like Liberace.” One elderly woman with $100,- 000 in the old kick switched to Citizens “because any bank that puts Liberace in my home is a friend of mine.” As this new sensation of the entertainment world 'came into his own, other organizations were moaning in loud lamentation. One was the national radio network that used Liberace the year before as an eight-week summer replacement for Dinah Shore, only to drop him. Some reports, say a vice-president of the network resigned over the blunder. Liberace was making history in other ways. In his first Los Angeles con certin April of 1952 he netted $4400 at the Philharmonic Audi torium. That same summer he appeared in concert at Hollywood Bow,, netting $5,000 for the single ap pearance. For a Pasadena appearance he made $3,500 … in Long Beach he drew crowds that paid him $7,500 … But was it all smooth sailing for this smiling wizard of the keyboards? Was Liberace the lad who plays mostly from memory, the artist who must have a light shining on the keyboard at all times happy with his success. Some associates pointing to the record say he changed about this time. They remember his promise, in January of 1952, to sign a new, j iwo-year contract etrective tnat I Charlie’s Inn June with the managers vno made him a stay. And they remember Liberace’s change in plans … his sudden announcement he would sign for one year only. They remember Sam Lutz" re minder that he had made a star of this boy from Milwaukee, the phenomenon who hemstitched as kid while other Doys piajeu football. And they remember Liberace’s reply: “Whatever has happened to me would have happened anyway! There are those, too, who won der: Does Liberace use people lor his own personal gain, then drop them? Red Doff, the Hollywood publi cist who made music-lovers Liberace conscious, then got fired by the "Candelabra Casanova, is generous in his praise of the pianist. Yet he mused: "Many people believe Liberace thinks he and his brother George can handle the whole works. "George isn’t tagging along on any gravy train as so many critics believe. He would be the last one tn tie fired if the time comes He has contributed a lot to the art. "George is a few years older than Lee, perhaps a little more deliberate in his decisions but generally he goes along with Lee on all matters. Plans New Triumphs The curlv-coiffed Liberace Is only too conscious of these pro fessional Mews pro and con as he makes his elaborate plans for the future. Currently visiting in Mexico where his TV films soon will be dubbed in Spanish Liberace plans new triumphs. He has no fear of being seen too often on television while veterans like Bing Crosby andi Bob Hope shudder at the thought of a weekly show. He loves, rather than loathes, being satirized by comedians in ; the candelabra-kidding style that j Jack Benny recently used. He is undistressed over the rumor his popularity is waning. He has no regret over the fact he won no television Emmy awards this year while last year he was voted the most popular j Hollywood entertainer with the best show. Liberace jhst can’t be bothered, j Perhaps in the summing up of this strange man, Red Doff best; explains it : 'He wasn’t born with a gold spoon in his mouth nor did he inherit millions. "He set a goal, whether he believes it or not, to get to the top and there’s no stopping him. "No one will get in his way. "H works hard,  March 18, 1954