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speedypandaweasel · 4 years ago

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One Big Adventure - a Wilford Warfstache and Abe story (Non-Ship) (2,914 Words)

Thank you for the request @canceltheact! I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

If you would like to submit a request, see the information at the Masterlist and submit through the Q and A!

PSA - THIS IS NOT A SHIP oke, let us begin...

Dazed images fog up the minds of two *very* hungover men as they stagger their way up to the apartment. Abe fumbles his way through the door and over strewn clothes. He continues on and manages to put together the kaleidoscope of scenery that is right in front of him. To his left, a saggy sofa sits and a cheap TV dangerously hangs off the stripping wallpaper by a thread. To his right, a grimy kitchen is on display which even the worst chef in the world wouldn't waste his time in. The other man, however, is blabbering away, slurring his words like a car on an icy motorway. "HA!, I tell *hick* you Abe, I'm so glad I remembered you, you see *hick*, I can't even remember where I put my-" Aaaand he's gone. His body moulds into the cushions that poorly support his droopy frame, and his scuffed platform boots dangle over the side. Abe smiles, slightly soberer than before. Who would have thought that this stock still of a man, whose only aesthetics were the colour beige and veterans, would somehow have a goofy, lighter side to him? All the criminals he's met and caught among the years...

Hold up, has he met anyone? He can't remember any experiences where he HAS met any, so why did he think that? Hm, must be the Tequila talking. Abe hopscotches over the empty Wine and Martini bottles that are decorated across the stained carpet. Damm, William has not been taking care of himself. Mind you, neither has he so he can't really say anything. He arrives into the walk-in kitchen and opens a dusty cupboard. His tired eyes only meet with shot and tumbler glasses.

How much does this Man drink!? Shuffling used plates and greasy cutlery out of the way, he fills a scotch glass with water. Dowsing the liquid felt like heaven. His exhausted physique felt like a body that's been stuck in the desert for a considerable amount of time and didn't know it needed water to survive. Oh, now he feels the headache coming on.

Reader, you know when water tastes funny? It's because your brain hasn't been receiving enough H20 because you've been drinking too many energy drinks. Yeah, that feeling is exactly what Abe is feeling right now. CONTINUING ON!

The scotch glass watches from the draining board whilst the Detective plays the quietest game of the floor is lava, whilst the moustached man is making much more noise. He manages to reach a corridor which he thinks leads towards the bedroom and tiptoes down the tight hall to find a vacant room. On the way, he passes another room. It was Barnum's. His mind was split in two, Does he go in? Or stay out? Through the crack in the door, the catastrophe has indeed spread into his sleeping quarters. A mountain of flamboyant disco clothes gathers dust in front of his Chester draws, the bed's not made and more liquor bottles are having a social gathering on top. Oh William, you may be a murderer, but you need to prioritise yourself. He takes a last look at his passed out flatmate down the hallway, before shutting the guest bedroom door. Grey. It's all he's met with. Much like his exterior. He slips his shoes off and starts to unbutton his off-white shirt. he runs a hand down his chest and over the scar. How the Hell did he survive that? He can't be bothered to go into it right now, he's too tired. He snuggles into bed and does the infamous cold bed dance.

You know the one.

Abe gets out of the tempting bed once more and walks back into the living room. He creeps over to William, the man's mouth catching flies. He carefully takes his enormous shoes off and places them on the floor. Barnum's mismatch socks disappear underneath the blanket. "Night William."

~ A gorgeous smell of Breakfast wanders its way through the apartment and Abe groggily wakes up. His eyes peel open and with a yawn, he trudges through to the living room. Remembering from earlier this morning, he needed to position himself for his dance routine around the non-existent floor. "What are you doing my main man?" Barnum brightly asks, a hearty chuckle accompanies the question. Resided in the pristine kitchen, his big, strong hand holds a Skillet and two China plates are centred on the pebble grey marble island. Abe, however, is currently squatting as though he was playing a game of leapfrog with some imaginary friends. The Detective goes to jump but then is taken back at the sight. The apartment is now spick and span, no more Wine Bottles, no more strewn clothes. The windows are tied wide open and it overlooks the sketchy neighbourhood that they reside in. "How did you do this?" "Do what?" "You know, clean up this quickly?" Barnum checks his watch. It's 7:30 am "Oh well you see, I ironed a nice pair of jeans and found a lovely dandelion coloured shirt. Accompanied by some rainbow braces I think I look quite dashing don't you think so?" "No William, I-I mean the Apartm-AAH!" Abe clings his hand over his head, damm this- "Headache is killing you?" William slides a glass of water over with an Aspirin pill. "And no, I didn't clean the apartment, she did." Wilford looks- wait, why are you looking at me!? "Anywho, we need to get going my slightly hungover companion! But first, breakfast!" Wilford sets a serving plate down of a full English Breakfast: Sausage, an Egg, two cooked Tomatoes, Bacon rashes, Baked Beans and a slice of Buttered Toast. Wow. He didn't know William could cook? The two men got stuck in right away and the TV is turned on. Two bright and very similar faces appear on the screen "Badgers the secret Killer?... And now for the weather, Jim?"

The camera pans to, what they believe, is Jim. Their face resembles a deer in headlights. "I swear, they don't know what they're doing. It's hilarious!" The Detective says with a mouthful of Toast. Barnum laughs, wipes his mouth with a napkin and takes a swig of his Orange juice. "Right! I mean, who is their boss anyway?!" The men eat and laugh their way through their plates talking about what topics they would cover if they were reporters. After a while, they both recline back into their bar stools and the cook starts to tidy up the dirty dishes. "Oh, no, let me do it. It's the least I can do." "You're alright my man, I've got this. Besides, you need to freshen up!" "But whe-'" "First door on your left"

They share a light chuckle. "Thanks Wilford, I really appreciated that," Abe says before going back down the hallway, whilst Wilford rolls his sleeves up and starts to clean the less-silver cutlery.

He smiles. That's the first time he's ever said that to him. "No problem Abe."

The passenger door slams shut on the Detective's Vintage SUV and Wiford pulls out a gigantic map from his pocket. This map includes hundreds of paths scrawled with crayons and a hint of Martini can be smelt.

"Are you sure, you know where you're going?" Abe questions. Judging by what that map reads, they are going to get lost very easily.

"Of course I know where I'm going! I am Wilford Motherloving Warftsache after all." A pang of guilt hits the Detective, he genuinely can't remember who he was.

"Ok, Wil, you can drive."

After playing at least 3 rounds of rock paper scissors, or when Wilford won, Abe hesitantly let the murderer drive. God knows where though.

Wilford excitedly thrust the keys into the ignition. He couldn't wait for what the day entailed!

"Careful Willford, you're gonna break the keys!" Abe says through gritted teeth.

"Oh pah-lease! I know how to drive" he retaliates. His brown boot floors the pedal and reverses straight into the iron fence.

"Yep, it's working."

The Detectives face, now pale, grips tighter onto his seatbelt and his feet are glued to the floor. "Wil, of course it's working. Now, step on the ga- nope, that's the brakes Wilford."

Pedestrians quiver in fear as they see a horribly driven brown vehicle screech to a stop and then start again. They have to clamp down on their ears as the monster of a car drives past them down the alleyway, swerving left and right much like the driver's speech the other night.

The SUV survives to the end of the road and dents a stop sign perched, well once, straight on the kerb.

"Will, which route are we taking?" Abe asks as he takes the map from the driver's hands.

"It's the one marked Highway of Life, it's gonna be a good one, trust you me."

"Well, this has got off to a surprising start so why not go for an adventure?" Abe says. He's given up at this point.

"LIFE IS A HIIIGHHWWAYY! I WWAAANNNA RRIIDDEE IIT ALLL NIIGGHTT LOOOOONNGG!" The two pop stars start belting out of the car as Wilford drives them to their last stop. Who would have thought that two polar opposites positions of the law would be in the same car together, let alone blasting Disney songs out of the car.

Wilford's hair whips away from his face as the SUV's top winds down.

"LIFE NEEDS A BIT OF MADNESS EH ABE?"

"HELL YEAH IT DOES"

The Afternoon sun blazes down onto their blacked-out sunglasses and the Golden Gate bridge paints a picture for the Detective that prescribes him with a carefree attitude.

Life was his to choose and he was here for it.

The SUV turns off the Highway onto Richmond Street. The Afternoon sun glowing dimmer.

Just in time.

Now reader, if you haven't read my WKM Tumblr Song series, then you won't understand this next section.

The SUV passes bountiful shrubberies and picket fences. Cherry Blossom dust drift its way into the car and Wilford starts to tear up.

"You ok Buddy?"

"Yeah, I'm ok." After all his years of interrogation, Abe knows that that answer was a lie. Yet, he didn't want to push it.

The car comes to a halt and is parked underneath a summer coated oak tree.

"Why'd we stop?"

"I want to show you something."

Abe opens the vintage door and steps out. In front of him, wildflowers and grass sway on the cliffs breeze and small pink flowers grow on its edge. Overhead, a sea glistens with sunlight rays and pink and amber hues dust the sky.

Man, this is enough to make a grown man cry.

The cars driver door can be heard shutting and a shadow walks up behind him. An intimate silence roots itself between the two men.

"You may be wondering why I brought you here."

Abe nods, still looking forward, yet intriguingly listening.

The man sighs, "I used to come here all the time as a young lad. We used to have picnics and dance until dawn. We were so free up here. Away from life, away from Duty, and she was away from Him, that was all that mattered. "

His voice breaks.

"But things change, people change and suddenly, I couldn't do that anymore.

That's why I want you to see it."

Wilford wanders over to their spot and picks up one of the pink flowers sprouting through the grass.

"You may have thought of us as the scum of the Earth Detective. But there are two sides to every story."

The Detective joins the Murderer and puts a hand on his shoulder.

Wilford chuckles. The last time he was here, he was completely and utterly alone. He was like- like a freshly born fawn still trying to find his legs into this world that didn't make sense.

But now...but now things are looking a little brighter.

"If there is anything I can do to make it up to you, just name it."

"You can't do anything really, it's just the way this messed up world works."

The two friends sit down in the grass, making fresh new imprints into the cliff edge, next to two fading ones.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure" "How many people have I killed?"

...

That question lingers in the air for an uncomfortably long time. All that can be heard are the lapping of the waves below them and the occasional swallow talking in the trees.

...

"I don- don't know Wilford," Abe breaks the silence, "I should know, but I-I don't.

...

Abe looks at Wilford, his broken and tear-stained eyes manage to glance back before returning to look out at the sunset.

Abe must do something here. But what? He said himself that nothing can be done so what can he do?

He reminisces on the day they were reunited. So much anger, so much confusion. But Wil was so cheerful, not a care in the world!

Now look at him.

And it was all his fault. If only he didn't get involved...

A second flashes by and Abe does something he should have done the second Will did it.

He hugs Him.

...

"I'm sorry Will."

...

Moments cling on for seems like forever and the embrace is broken. The two tear-stained friends look up.

The afternoon sun has now gone beneath the horizon and is replaced with the all too familiar twilight scenery, which glows softly for miles and miles, each star a lantern that has been entrusted with keeping something special.

"There was another reason why I wanted to bring you here."

Wilford wipes his eyes with his sleeve. "Do you see that star, the big one?"

"Yeah" "That's the Evening Star. That Star is the reason why I have hope. And now I want to share that hope with you. I know we got off the wrong foot but since we're in the same boat now, I think it's time I opened up about where I've actually been."

Abe swallows, this man is truly broken, and he can't do anything about it.

"Thank you for trusting me." "We're not done yet. It's your turn!" "What?" "Make a wish." Cautiously, the Detective slowly stands up from his permanent grassy imprint and walks towards the cliff's edge. The man looks around and sees only patches of shrubbery and wildflowers.

And his newfound friend encouraging him to proceed.

He clasps his hands together and wishes hard. His eyes scrunch together as he becomes a child once more as well. His once tight shoulders have finally become relaxed. After so many years of searching for answers, he doesn't need to worry any more.

A single tear is swept away from the Murderers face as he watches on from the patch of grass. He remembers that feeling and the dream he wished for all those years ago. Yet now, his wish is slowly changing.

Granted, he can't remember who he was but bully does he know what he wants to be. And being here for him, at this very moment, is a wonderful way to start it.

Abe's hands fall to his side and he stares out onto the ever stretching view. His feet are glued to the spot and his mind is only fixated on that one goal. Wilford slowly joins his side, already having a hunch on what he dearly wants.

"What did you wish for?" The Murderer asks.

The Detective huckles, "Now if I told you, it wouldn't come true, would it?"

"Very true my friend."

Little did the men know that their newly found wishes were the same.

"Don't you mean, Best Friend?"

CRACK

The heartwarming moment is abruptly stopped by the sky blasting wide open and millions of sounds exploding across the cliff. The light breeze has rapidly sped up into a storm and is propelling thick gusts upon the two.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL NOW!?" Wilford yells at the hole, completely unfazed.

"YOU KNOW WHAT THIS IS!?" Abe yells at his Friend.

"OF COURSE I DO, IT'S TIME FOR WORK."

"WORK!? SINCE WHEN DO YOU HAVE A JOB!?"

"WE ALL HAVE A JOB - WE'RE ACTORS! I'LL EXPLAIN EVERYTHING IF WE DON'T GET SPLIT UP."

"IF WE DONT GET SPLIT UP!? WHERE ARE WE GOING!?" "I HAVE NO IDEA! BUT THAT'S THE FUN OF IT! AFTER THREE, WE WALK IN."

"ARE YOU CRAZY WE'RE GONNA FALL!"

"TRUST ME, WE WON'T."

Wilford grabs Abe's hand and he stares at him. Abe stares back, fear-stricken. Finally, he nods.

"TOGETHER?" "TOGETHER."

"ONE"

"TWO"

"THREE!!!!" The two Actors charge straight over the cliff and into the blinding light.

Wilford finds himself in some kind of leather chair with neon lights surrounding him. A script in one and his prop gun in his other.

No pants on, no wonder he feels too comfortable.

He scans his scene and sees his co-actor, Kathryn, running her lines on the other side of the room.

A chair sits opposite him and behind that, a red T-30 minutes until showtime sign is displayed for him.

Abe, however, isn't needed on set yet. His adventure hasn't begun.

But both of their characters will have to cross at one point or another, it's just a matter of time. Yet for a fact, no one can edit their Friendship; Their Joint Wish.

Because, as they say, Life is a road that you're travelling on, when there's one day here, and the next day gone.

#wilford warfstache #abe the detective #wkm #who killed markiplier #tumblr songs #markiplier #story #william j barnum #markiplier egos

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paths-of-my-childhood-candid · 5 years ago

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Lover Conquers All

By: Mark Sutherland for Music Week Date: November 4th 2019 issue (published online on December 13th 2019)

She’s the world’s biggest pop star, but despite her global success, Taylor Swift is also the music industry’s greatest advocate for artists’ and songwriters’ rights. And, with a ground-breaking new record deal and a bold new album, Lover, she’s not about to stop now. Music Week meets her to talk music and business...

Around this time of year, the Taylor Swift anniversaries come at you thick and fast. Nine years since her third album, Speak Now, every note of which was written entirely by Swift, hit the shelves. Five years since she released her mould-breaking pop album, 1989, and went from the world’s biggest country star to the world’s biggest pop star overnight. Two years since her Reputation record saw her become the only musician to post four successive million-plus debut sales weeks in the United States. And so on.

But today, Swift’s mind is drawn further back, to the 13th anniversary of her debut, self-titled record, and the days when her album releases weren’t automatically accompanied by mountains of hype and enough think-pieces to sink a battleship. Her journal entries from the time - helpfully reprinted as part of the deluxe editions of her new album, Lover - reveal her as an excited, optimistic teenager, but also one with a grasp of marketing strategies and label politics way beyond her years, even if she was reluctant to actually take credit for her ideas.

“It always was and it always will be an interesting dance being a young woman in the music industry,” she smiles ruefully. “We don’t have a lot of female executives, we’re working on getting more female engineers and producers but, while we are such a drastic gender minority, it’s interesting to try and figure out how to be.”

And, of course, when Swift started out she was, as she points out, “an actual kid”.

“I was planning the release of my first album when I was 15 years old,” she reminisces. “And I was a fully gangly 15, I reminded everyone of their niece! I was in this industry in Nashville and country music, where I was making album marketing calls, but I never wanted to stand up and say, ‘Yeah, that promotions plan you just complimented my label on, I thought of that! Me and my Mom thought of that!’

“When you’re a new artist you wonder how much space you can take up and, as a woman, you wonder how much space you can take up pretty much your whole period of growing up,” she continues. “For me, growing up and knowing that I was an adult was realising that I was allowed to take up space from a marketing perspective, from a business perspective, from an opinionated perspective. And that feels a lot better than constantly trying to wonder if I’m allowed to be here.”

In the intervening years, Taylor Swift has released six further, brilliant albums, growing from country starlet to all-conquering pop behemoth along the way. She takes up “more space”, as she would put it, than any other musician on the planet: a sales and now - having belatedly embraced the format with Lover - streaming phenomenon; a powerhouse stadium performer; an award-garlanded songwriter for herself and others; and a social media giant with a combined 278 million followers across Instagram, Twitter and Facebook (which would make the Taylor Nation the fourth most populous one on earth, after China, India and the US).

But her influence on music and the music industry doesn’t end there. Because, over the years, Swift has also become a leading advocate for artists’ and songwriters’ rights, in a digital landscape that doesn’t always have such matters as a priority.

In 2015, she stood up to Apple Music over its plans to not pay artist royalties during subscribers’ three-month free trials (Apple backed down immediately). She pulled her entire catalogue from Spotify in 2014 in protest that its free tier was devaluing music, sending Daniel Ek scrambling to justify his business model. When she returned in 2017, it was a crucial fillip for the streaming service’s IPO plans.

More recently, her ground-breaking new record deal with Republic Records contained clauses not only guaranteeing her ownership of her future masters, but also ensuring Universal Music will share the spoils of its Spotify shares with its artists, without any payments counting against unrecouped balances. And when her long-time former label boss Scott Borchetta sold Big Machine to Scooter Braun’s Ithaca Holdings, taking Swift’s first six albums with him, the star publicly called out what she saw as her “worst-case scenario” and stressed: “You deserve to own the art you make”. She may yet re-record her old songs in protest.

In short, Swift has, for a long time now, been unafraid to use her voice on industry matters, whether they pertain to her own stellar career or the thousands of other artists out there struggling to make a living.

All of which makes Swift not just the greatest star of our age, but perhaps the most important to the future development of the industry as a more artist-centric, songwriter-friendly business. Hers is still the life of the pop phenomenon - she spent today in Los Angeles doing promotion and photoshoots (or, in her words, “having people put make-up on me”) as Lover continues to build on huge critical acclaim and even huger initial sales. But now, she’s kicking back with her cats - one of whom seems determined to disrupt Music Week’s interview by “stampeding” through at every opportunity - and ready to talk business.

And for Swift, business is good. The impact of her joining streaming, and the decline of traditional album sales, may have prevented her from posting a fifth successive one million-plus sales debut, but Lover still sold more US copies (867,000) in its first week than any record since her own Reputation. It’s sold 117,513 copies to date in the UK, according to the Official Charts Company.

Even better, while Reputation - a record forged in the white heat of a social media snakestorm over her on-going feud with Kanye West - was plenty of show and rather less grow, Lover continues to reveal hidden depths. Reputation struck a sometimes curious contrast between the unrepentant warrior Swift she was showing to the outside world and the love story with British actor Joe Aiwyn that was quietly developing behind closed doors, but Lover is the sort of versatile, cohesive album that the streaming age was supposed to kill off.

It contains more than its fair share of pop bangers (You Need To Calm Down, Me!), but also some gorgeously-crafted acoustic tracks (Lover, Cornelia Street), some pithy political commentary (The Man, Miss America & The Heartbreak Prince) and the sort of musical diversions (Paper Rings’ irresistible rockabilly stomp, the childlike oddity of It’s Nice To Have A Friend) that no other pop superstar would have the sheer musical chops to attempt, let alone pull off.

“Taylor’s creative instincts as an artist and songwriter are brilliant,” says Monte Lipman, founder and CEO of Swift’s US label, Republic. “Our partnership represents a strategic alliance built on mutual respect, trust, and complete transparency. Her vision is extraordinary as she sets the tone for every campaign and initiative.”

No wonder David Joseph, chairman/CEO of her long-time UK label Virgin EMI’s parent company Universal Music UK, is thrilled with how things are going.

“Love Story was a fitting first single release for Taylor here - she’s loved the UK from day one and has engaged so much with her fans and teams,” says Joseph. “She really respects and values what’s going on here creatively. To see her go from playing the Students’ Union at King’s College to Wembley Stadium has been extraordinary. Taylor is an artist constantly striving for perfection, and with Lover - from my personal point of view, her most accomplished work to date adore working with her and whilst it’s been more than 10 years this still feels like the start.”

And today, Swift is keen to concentrate on the present and future. She has a starring role in Cats coming up (and a new song on the soundtrack, Beautiful Ghosts, co-written with Andrew Lloyd Webber) and, after a spectacularly intimate Paris launch show in September, festival dates and her own LoverFest to plan (UK shows will be revealed soon). Time, then, to tell the cats to calm down and sit down with Music Week to talk streaming, contracts and why she’s “obsessed” with the music industry...

Unlike with Reputation, most of the discussion around Lover seems to have been focused on the music... Absolutely! One of the ideas I had about this record, and something I’ve implemented into my life in the last couple of years is that I don’t like distractions. And, for a while, it felt like my life had to come with distractions from the music, whether it was tabloid fascination with my personal life or my friendships or what I was wearing. I realised in the last couple of years that, if I don’t give a window into distraction, people can’t try to look in and see something other than the music. I love that, if you really pour yourself into the idea that an album is still important and try really hard to make something that is worth people’s attention span, time and energy, that can still come across. Because we are living in an industry right now where everyone’s rushing towards taking us into a singles industry and, in some cases, it has become that. But there are still some cases where clearly the album is important to people.

Does it matter that some new artists won’t get to make albums the way you always have? It’s interesting. Five years ago I wrote an op-ed in the Wall Street Journal and said, maybe in the next five years, we would see artists releasing music the way that they want to. I thought that each artist would start to curate what is important to them, not just from an artistic standpoint but from a marketing standpoint. It’s really interesting to see different release plans, if you look at what Drake did and then what Beyoncé does, incredible artists who have really curated what it is to drop music in their own way. We all do it differently, which is cool. As long as people dropping just singles want to be doing that, then I’m fine with it, but if it feels like a big general wave that’s being pressured by people in power, their teams or their labels, that’s not cool. But I do really hope that in the future artists have more of a say over strategy. We’re not just supposed to make art and then hand it to a team that masterminds it.

Were you worried about putting an album on streaming on release day for the first time? Well, there are ways that streaming services could really promote the [whole] album in a more incentivised way. We could have album charts on streaming. The industry follows where they can get prizes. So you have a singles chart on streaming services which is great but, if you split things up into genre charts for example, that would really incentivise people. It’s important that we keep trying to strive to make the experience better for users but also make it more interesting for artists to keep wanting to achieve. But I really did love the experience of putting the album on streaming. I loved the immediacy, I loved that people who maybe weren’t a huge diehard fan were curious and saying, ‘I wonder what this is like’ and listening to it and deciding that they liked it.

You’d resisted streaming for a long time. Have you changed your mind about the format now? I always knew that I would enjoy the aspects of streaming that make [your music] so immediately available to so many people. That’s the part of it that I unequivocally always felt really sad I was missing out on. There wasn’t ever a day when I woke up and I was like, ‘Oh, I’m really glad that multitudes of people don’t have access to my music!’ So I always knew that streaming was an incredible mechanism and model for the future but I still don’t think we have the royalties and compensation system worked out. That’s between the labels and their artists and I realised that me, to use a gross word, ‘leveraging’ what I can bring to cut a better deal for the artists at my record label was really important for me.

How big a factor were things like that in you signing to Republic/Universal? That’s important to me because that means they’re adopting some of my ideas. If they take me on as an artist that means they really thought it through. Because with me, come opinions about how we can better our industry. I’m one of the only people in the artist realm who can be loud about it. People who are on their fifth, sixth or seventh album, we’re the only ones who can speak out, because new artists and producers and writers need to work. They need to be endearing and likeable and available to their labels and streaming services at all times. It’s up to the artists who have been around for a second to say, ‘Hey guys, the producers and the writers and the artists are the ones who are making music what it is’. And we’re in a great place in music right now thanks to them. They should be going to their mailbox and feeling like they’ve got a pension plan, rather than feeling like, ‘Oh yay, I can pay half my rent this month after this No.1 song’.

Did you have more creative freedom making Lover than on your previous albums? In my previous situation, there were creative constraints, issues that we had over the years. I’ve always given 100% to projects, I always over-delivered, thinking that that generosity would be returned to me. But I ended up finding that generosity in a new situation with a new label that understands that I deserve to own what I make. That meant so much to me because it was given over to me so freely. When someone just looks at you and says ‘Yes, you deserve what you want’, after a decade or more of being told, ‘I’m not sure you deserve what you want’ - there’s a freedom that comes with that. It’s like when people find ‘the one’ they’re like, ‘It was easy, I just knew and I felt free’. All of a sudden you’re being told you’re worth exactly, no, more than what you thought you were worth. And that made me feel I could make an album that was exactly what I wanted to make. There’s an eclectic side to Lover, a confessional side, it varies from acoustic to really poppy pop, but that’s what I like to do. And, while you would never make something artistic based on something so unromantic as a contract, it was more than that. It was a group of people saying, ‘We believe in what you’re making, go make what you want to make and you deserve to own it too’.

You’re obviously not happy about what’s happened at Big Machine since you left. But will the attention mean artists don’t find themselves in this situation in the future? I hope so. That’s the only reason that I speak out about things. The fans don’t understand these things, the public isn’t being made aware. This generation has so much information available to them so I thought it was important that the fans knew what I was going through, because I knew it was going to affect every aspect of my life and I wanted them to be the first to know. And in and amongst that group, I know there are people that want to make music some day. It involves every new artist that is reading that and going, ‘Wait, that’s what I’m signing?’ They don’t have to sign stuff that’s unfair to them. If you don’t ask the right questions and you sit in front of the wrong desk in front of the wrong person, they can take everything from you.

Songwriters are in dispute with Spotify in the US over its decision to appeal the Copyright Board decision to boost songwriting royalties. Do writers need more respect? Absolutely. In terms of the power structure, the songwriters, the producers, the engineers, the people who are breathing magic into our industry, need to be listened to. They’re not being greedy. This is legitimately an industry where people are having trouble paying their bills and they’re the most talented people we have. This isn’t them sitting in their mansions going, ‘I wish this mansion was bigger and I would like a yacht please’. This is actually people who are going to work every single day. I got into writing when I was in Nashville and it was very much like what I read about the Brill Building. You would write every day, whether you were inspired or not, and in the process I met artists and writers. Somebody would walk in and someone would say, ‘Oh, he’s still getting mailbox money from that Faith Hill cut a couple of years ago, he’s set’. That’s not a thing anymore. Mailbox money is a thing of the past and we need to remember that these are the people that create the heartbeat that we’re all dancing to or crying to.

You were clearly aware of music industry machinations from a young age... Reading back on the journal entries, I forgot how obsessed I was with the industry as a teenager. I was so fascinated by how it works and how it was changing. Every part of it was interesting to me. I had drawn the stages for most of my tours a year before I went on them. That really was fun for me as a teenager! A lot of people who start out very young in music, either don’t have a say or don’t have the will to do the business side of it, but weirdly that was so much fun for me to try and learn. I had a lot of energy when I was 16!

Are you doing similar drawings for next year’s LoverFest? Definitely. And that’s why it’s still fun for me to take on a challenge like, ‘Oh, let’s just plan our own festival’. Let’s create a bill of artists and try and make it as fun as possible for the fans. I’m so intrigued by what that’s going to be like.

Finally, when we last did an interview in 2015, you said in five years’ time you wanted to be “finding complexity in happiness”. How has that worked out? That’s exactly what’s happened with this album! I think a lot of writers have the fear of stability, emotional health and happiness. Our whole careers, people make jokes about how, ‘Just wait until you meet someone nice, you’ll run out of stuff to write about’. I was talking to [Cats director] Tom Hooper about this because he said one thing his mother taught him was, ‘Don’t ever let people tell you that you can’t make art if you’re happy’. I thought that was so amazing. He’s a creator in a completely different medium but he has been subjected to that same joke over and over again that we must be miserable to create. Lover is important to me in so many ways, but it’s so imperative for me as a human being that songwriting is not tied to my own personal misery. It’s good to know that, it really is!

364 notes · View notes

bananaofswifts · 5 years ago

Link

Around this time of year, the Taylor Swift anniversaries come at you thick and fast.

Nine years since her third album, Speak Now, every note of which was written entirely by Swift, hit the shelves. Five years since she released her mould-breaking pop album, 1989, and went from the world’s biggest country star to the world’s biggest pop star overnight. Two years since her Reputation record saw her become the only musician to post four successive million-plus debut sales weeks in the United States. And so on.

But today, Swift’s mind is drawn further back, to the 13th anniversary of her debut, self-titled record, and the days when her album releases weren’t automatically accompanied by mountains of hype and enough think-pieces to sink a battleship. Her journal entries from the time – helpfully reprinted as part of the deluxe editions of her new album, Lover – reveal her as an excited, optimistic teenager, but also one with a grasp of marketing strategies and label politics way beyond her years, even if she was reluctant to actually take credit for her ideas.

And, of course, when Swift started out she was, as she points out, “an actual kid”.

In the intervening years, Taylor Swift has released six further, brilliant albums, growing from country starlet to all-conquering pop behemoth along the way. She takes up “more space”, as she would put it, than any other musician on the planet: a sales and now – having belatedly embraced the format with Lover – streaming phenomenon; a powerhouse stadium performer; an award-garlanded songwriter for herself and others; and a social media giant with a combined 278 million followers across Instagram, Twitter and Facebook (which would make the Taylor Nation the fourth most populous one on earth, after China, India and the US).

All of which makes Swift not just the greatest star of our age, but perhaps the most important to the future development of the industry as a more artist-centric, songwriter-friendly business. Hers is still the life of the pop phenomenon – she spent today in Los Angeles doing promotion and photoshoots (or, in her words, “having people put make-up on me”) as Lover continues to build on huge critical acclaim and even huger initial sales. But now, she’s kicking back with her cats – one of whom seems determined to disrupt Music Week’s interview by “stampeding” through at every opportunity – and ready to talk business.

Even better, while Reputation – a record forged in the white heat of a social media snakestorm over her on-going feud with Kanye West – was plenty of show and rather less grow, Lover continues to reveal hidden depths. Reputation struck a sometimes curious contrast between the unrepentant warrior Swift she was showing to the outside world and the love story with British actor Joe Alwyn that was quietly developing behind closed doors, but Lover is the sort of versatile, cohesive album that the streaming age was supposed to kill off.

No wonder David Joseph, chairman/CEO of her long-time UK label Virgin EMI’s parent company Universal Music UK, is thrilled with how things are going.

“Love Story was a fitting first single release for Taylor here – she’s loved the UK from day one and has engaged so much with her fans and teams,” says Joseph. “She really respects and values what’s going on here creatively. To see her go from playing the Students’ Union at King’s College to Wembley Stadium has been extraordinary. Taylor is an artist constantly striving for perfection, and with Lover – from my personal point of view, her most accomplished work to date – her songwriting has gone to a new level. I adore working with her and whilst it’s been more than 10 years this still feels like the start.”

Unlike with Reputation, most of the discussion around Lover seems to have been focused on the music…

“Absolutely! One of the ideas I had about this record, and something I’ve implemented into my life in the last couple of years is that I don’t like distractions. And, for a while, it felt like my life had to come with distractions from the music, whether it was tabloid fascination with my personal life or my friendships or what I was wearing. I realised in the last couple of years that, if I don’t give a window into distraction, people can’t try to look in and see something other than the music. I love that, if you really pour yourself into the idea that an album is still important and try really hard to make something that is worth people’s attention span, time and energy, that can still come across. Because we are living in an industry right now where everyone’s rushing towards taking us into a singles industry and, in some cases, it has become that. But there are still some cases where clearly the album is important to people.”

Does it matter that some new artists won’t get to make albums the way you always have?

“It’s interesting. Five years ago I wrote an op-ed in the Wall Street Journal and said, maybe in the next five years, we would see artists releasing music the way that they want to. I thought that each artist would start to curate what is important to them, not just from an artistic standpoint but from a marketing standpoint. It’s really interesting to see different release plans, if you look at what Drake did and then what Beyoncé does, incredible artists who have really curated what it is to drop music in their own way. We all do it differently, which is cool. As long as people dropping just singles want to be doing that, then I’m fine with it, but if it feels like a big general wave that’s being pressured by people in power, their teams or their labels, that’s not cool. But I do really hope that in the future artists have more of a say over strategy. We’re not just supposed to make art and then hand it to a team that masterminds it.”

Were you worried about putting an album on streaming on release day for the first time?

“Well, there are ways that streaming services could really promote the [whole] album in a more incentivised way. We could have album charts on streaming. The industry follows where they can get prizes. So you have a singles chart on streaming services which is great but, if you split things up into genre charts for example, that would really incentivise people. It’s important that we keep trying to strive to make the experience better for users but also make it more interesting for artists to keep wanting to achieve. But I really did love the experience of putting the album on streaming. I loved the immediacy, I loved that people who maybe weren’t a huge diehard fan were curious and saying, ‘I wonder what this is like’ and listening to it and deciding that they liked it.”

You’d resisted streaming for a long time. Have you changed your mind about the format now?

“I always knew that I would enjoy the aspects of streaming that make [your music] so immediately available to so many people. That’s the part of it that I unequivocally always felt really sad I was missing out on. There wasn’t ever a day when I woke up and I was like, ‘Oh, I’m really glad that multitudes of people don’t have access to my music!’ So I always knew that streaming was an incredible mechanism and model for the future but I still don’t think we have the royalties and compensation system worked out. That’s between the labels and their artists and I realised that me, to use a gross word, ‘leveraging’ what I can bring to cut a better deal for the artists at my record label was really important for me.”

How big a factor were things like that in you signing to Republic/Universal?

“That’s important to me because that means they’re adopting some of my ideas. If they take me on as an artist that means they really thought it through. Because with me, come opinions about how we can better our industry. I’m one of the only people in the artist realm who can be loud about it. People who are on their fifth, sixth or seventh album, we’re the only ones who can speak out, because new artists and producers and writers need to work. They need to be endearing and likeable and available to their labels and streaming services at all times. It’s up to the artists who have been around for a second to say, ‘Hey guys, the producers and the writers and the artists are the ones who are making music what it is’. And we’re in a great place in music right now thanks to them. They should be going to their mailbox and feeling like they’ve got a pension plan, rather than feeling like, ‘Oh yay, I can pay half my rent this month after this No.1 song’.”

Did you have more creative freedom making Lover than on your previous albums?

“In my previous situation, there were creative constraints, issues that we had over the years. I’ve always given 100% to projects, I always over-delivered, thinking that that generosity would be returned to me. But I ended up finding that generosity in a new situation with a new label that understands that I deserve to own what I make. That meant so much to me because it was given over to me so freely. When someone just looks at you and says ‘Yes, you deserve what you want’, after a decade or more of being told, ‘I’m not sure you deserve what you want’ – there’s a freedom that comes with that. It’s like when people find ‘the one’ they’re like, ‘It was easy, I just knew and I felt free’. All of a sudden you’re being told you’re worth exactly, no, more than what you thought you were worth. And that made me feel I could make an album that was exactly what I wanted to make. There’s an eclectic side to Lover, a confessional side, it varies from acoustic to really poppy pop, but that’s what I like to do. And, while you would never make something artistic based on something so unromantic as a contract, it was more than that. It was a group of people saying, ‘We believe in what you’re making, go make what you want to make and you deserve to own it too’.”

You’re obviously not happy about what’s happened at Big Machine since you left. But will the attention mean artists don’t find themselves in this situation in the future?

“I hope so. That’s the only reason that I speak out about things. The fans don’t understand these things, the public isn’t being made aware. This generation has so much information available to them so I thought it was important that the fans knew what I was going through, because I knew it was going to affect every aspect of my life and I wanted them to be the first to know. And in and amongst that group, I know there are people that want to make music some day. It involves every new artist that is reading that and going, ‘Wait, that’s what I’m signing?’ They don’t have to sign stuff that’s unfair to them. If you don’t ask the right questions and you sit in front of the wrong desk in front of the wrong person, they can take everything from you.”

Songwriters are in dispute with Spotify in the US over its decision to appeal the Copyright Board decision to boost songwriting royalties. Do writers need more respect?

“Absolutely. In terms of the power structure, the songwriters, the producers, the engineers, the people who are breathing magic into our industry, need to be listened to. They’re not being greedy. This is legitimately an industry where people are having trouble paying their bills and they’re the most talented people we have. This isn’t them sitting in their mansions going, ‘I wish this mansion was bigger and I would like a yacht please’. This is actually people who are going to work every single day. I got into writing when I was in Nashville and it was very much like what I read about the Brill Building. You would write every day, whether you were inspired or not, and in the process I met artists and writers. Somebody would walk in and someone would say, ‘Oh, he’s still getting mailbox money from that Faith Hill cut a couple of years ago, he’s set’. That’s not a thing anymore. Mailbox money is a thing of the past and we need to remember that these are the people that create the heartbeat that we’re all dancing to or crying to.”

You were clearly aware of music industry machinations from a young age…

“Reading back on the journal entries, I forgot how obsessed I was with the industry as a teenager. I was so fascinated by how it works and how it was changing. Every part of it was interesting to me. I had drawn the stages for most of my tours a year before I went on them. That really was fun for me as a teenager! A lot of people who start out very young in music, either don’t have a say or don’t have the will to do the business side of it, but weirdly that was so much fun for me to try and learn. I had a lot of energy when I was 16!”

Are you doing similar drawings for next year’s LoverFest?

“Definitely. And that’s why it’s still fun for me to take on a challenge like, ‘Oh, let’s just plan our own festival’. Let’s create a bill of artists and try and make it as fun as possible for the fans. I’m so intrigued by what that’s going to be like.”

Finally, when we last did an interview in 2015, you said in five years’ time you wanted to be “finding complexity in happiness”. How has that worked out?

“That’s exactly what’s happened with this album! I think a lot of writers have the fear of stability, emotional health and happiness. Our whole careers, people make jokes about how, ‘Just wait until you meet someone nice, you’ll run out of stuff to write about’. I was talking to [Cats director] Tom Hooper about this because he said one thing his mother taught him was, ‘Don’t ever let people tell you that you can’t make art if you’re happy’. I thought that was so amazing. He’s a creator in a completely different medium but he has been subjected to that same joke over and over again that we must be miserable to create. Lover is important to me in so many ways, but it’s so imperative for me as a human being that songwriting is not tied to my own personal misery. It’s good to know that, it really is!”

#taylor swift #all intreview

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alix-writes-things · 4 years ago

Text

Untitled Unapologetic Rage Song by @alix-writes-things / @hiddenagender14

Shit took a wrong turn at Albuquerque

I guess you could say I’m a little “quirky”

My brain’s a mess

My heart’s a wreck

Im anxious, dysphoric and depressed

I guess I just gotta get used to living my life like this

Wrong body

Wrong brain

I’m in pain

But to you it’s a fucking game

This is my fucking life and I’m over it

I’m suicidal

But you decide

If I get to live or die

I get no say in who I am anymore

And honestly at this point my life’s just a fucking chore

I’m done

I just kinda wanna curl up and die

‘Cause because of you I spend my nights awake just to cry

It’s a mess

It’s a menace

And I’m on the fence

Of just jumping off a bridge with a rope around my neck

One end tied to a pole with me in its hold

I’m sorry daddy but I ain’t making it back home

Tell my siblings that I love them

Tell my friends not to miss me

Tell mama she can go fuck herself because she caused some of this misery

And no I ain’t placing blame

None of you are the reason my brain ain’t the same

As the rest of the world

They all laugh

They all smile

I’m sure it’ll take awhile

For any of y’all to know why I did this

But, hey, Jesus gave up his life

So merry fucking Christmas

Thats another thing

I’m a fucking atheist

I don’t believe in your “god” or any of their fame

I don’t do the whole religion thing

To me they’re all just the same

One made up story after another

They kinda blend together

Another fucking thing

Who you calling she?

That’s what started this misery

Bitch it’s fucking They/Them

And no I’m not multiple people

Grammar rules state that “they” can be singular

So miss me with that bullshit

Give me a different excuse

Don’t tell me that you won’t respect me

Just ‘cause of some dude on THC

The bible was a trip

We all fucking know it

Tell me what he smoked

So I can fucking smoke it

Yeah weed ain’t that bad

I’m sorry I had to say it

Next topic

What’s next?

Oh yeah

I’m fucking gay

I only like girls and non binary people

Boys are kinda iffy

To be honest

They’re a little bit icky

Too grabby

Too much staring

Masculinity is a prison

So is femininity

I break the fucking moulds

I’m an androgynous motherfucker

Who probably won’t get to grow old

Yeah, that’s right

My life expectancy is like fucking 30

Don’t expect me to stick around past like 20

Y’all are fucking bullshit

Spreading hate

Spreading lies

Thinking the gays will turn your kids to flies

And feed em to the frogs

That I guess we also turned gay

I wasn’t aware that sexuality was something you could persuade

You think this is a choice?

Think I chose to be hated?

I’m not a misfit that your god accidentally created

I’m a fucking human being

Not magic or witchcraft or fucking tranny spells

I’m a bitch who ain’t shit

But I sure am more than you

Kicking your son out just because he kissed a dude

Putting your daughter on the streets

Because she was born a he

Listen up, bitch

We’re in the 21st century

This shit it ain’t new

But your hate’s looking pretty old

Might wanna open up a window

It’s getting pretty hot

Oh wait, it’s because your daughter’s in the room

But before you call the cops

Just let me say...ha! Bitch you thought!

Just let me live my life

I ain’t doing any harm

The only thing I’m hurting here

Is my fucking arm

I been cutting since 11

Wanting to die since I was 6

You bet your ass I wish there were a simple fix

If you take away anything from this song

It’s that there’s a lesson you need to be learning

Because you’re fucking wrong

Sure I’m a little controversial

A little bit outspoken

But don’t try to fix what ain’t broken

Because one day you might be on the streets

That your kid was once lurking

Oh you want an apology?

For not giving you a warning?

Didn’t know we were talking about stuff that’s quite alarming?

Well get your head outta your ass

Look around at the people who pass

Remember refusing to apologise to them?

For the abuse

For the hate crimes

For all the times you made them cry

Oh, look!

Your thoughts are swarming!

Here’s your fucking trigger warning.

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mxstyassasxin · 5 years ago

Text

Once Upon A December

Harry finally gets around to sorting out Grimmauld Place after the war and finds a curious silver chest underneath Sirius’ bed. Inspried by this song from the musical Anastasia. Also on AO3 and FFN.

Day 13 of my 24th birthday drabbles

Harry had been putting this off for months. The war had ended in May and, for a while, there was plenty to distract him while he regrouped at the Burrow with the Weasleys and Hermione. First, he’d been needed for pretty much every trial at the Wizengamot. He’d then helped McGonagall get Hogwarts ready for the beginning of the school year. Then, when Ginny and Hermione had gone back for their final year, he and Ron, along with Neville and a few others from the DA, had begun their Auror training. It was a hectic three months but then, once the day-to-day job began, it actually left quite a bit of downtime, unless they were on an active fieldwork case, of which they’d so far only had one. The rest of the time accounted for paperwork and patrols, witness interviews and interrogations as well as investigations that usually resulted in simple arrests if they didn’t have to be passed on to more senior Aurors.

Yet, even with most of his evenings and weekends free, he had not set a single foot inside Number 12, Grimmauld Place since the morning of their Polyjuice infiltration of the Ministry. The stupid, half-baked plan that went so awry that Ron ended up splinched and Grimmauld Place compromised.

It had taken a week of the Christmas break, with everyone back at the Burrow, for Hermione and Ginny to put their feet down. Harry and Ron had agreed that they were absolutely terrifying when they ganged up on them like that. But they understood, of course, because there were only so many times you could be walked in on with your girlfriend by one, or both, of your best friends – one of whom happened to be your girlfriend’s brother. Or, in Ron’s case, being walked in on by your best mate and your sister.

And so it was, that two days prior to Christmas Eve, Harry stepped back into Number 12 Grimmauld Place. He was accompanied by the majority of the clan, obviously - Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Arthur and George. Neville and Luna even joined them, although Harry suspected that their sense of friendship was also accompanied by a curiosity about the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix.

The portrait of Sirius’ mother was still present and shrieking on the hallway wall but ended up having a rather confusingly pleasant conversation with Luna. At one point in the morning, Harry found Neville sat on the threadbare carpet in the drawing room, staring at the Black Family Tree covering the walls.

“Nev? You alright there?”

“Yeah… Yeah. Did you know it had updated? I should have known it would because my Gran’s does the same.”

“What do you mean?”

Neville pointed at a spot on the wall. “That’s where you should be, as Sirius’ chosen heir. There’s a place on there, ready for you if you wanted to restore it properly.”

Sure enough, there, beneath the scorch mark that Sirius had pointed out to him, was a new portrait frame, stitched with golden thread. Harry stared at it silently for a while, imagining his face in that golden frame surrounded by the faces of Black after Black after Black. Slytherin to a fault until Sirius came along. His image would sit beside Malfoy’s, but, if he restored it as Neville said he could, then it would also sit alongside Teddy and Tonks, as well as Remus by marriage. It would be a brand-new start. Those who have been and gone, framed in silver, while those who remain to change the fate of the Black lineage, framed in gold. Andromeda, Narcissa, Draco, Teddy and him. Harry.

He turned on his heel and left Neville behind in the room, failing to see or hear anything besides his feet on the crooked floorboards, only looking up when they came to a halt in front of the door he recognised as Sirius’ room. He reached a hand out, holding his palm an inch away from the mottled wood, unsure whether he should, or even whether he could. But, inhaling deeply, he made contact with the door, and it swung inwards under his touch. As soon as he stepped across the threshold, the heavy drapes at the window swept open, illuminating the dust floating around the room.

He sank down into the armchair in the corner, facing the Gryffindor-themed bed, and hung his head between his knees, hands clasped at the back of his neck. This was exactly why he had been putting off fully acknowledging his inheritance. Kreacher was still at Hogwarts, so he was one less issue to resolve, but the ownership of a magical house that had been keyed into a different lineage for centuries? He didn’t need Hermione to tell him that taking it on was going to get complicated. Especially when there were other heirs, blood heirs, that he would want to recognise. And with that, he knew he would have to get Gringotts involved, and the Goblins definitely still hated him. He was sure many of them would wish him dead if they could. But he would have no hope in navigating the various Black vaults without their assistance.

As he lifted his head to roll the stress out of his neck, he caught the light glinting on something underneath the bed. Curious, he sank out of the chair and onto his knees, crawling on all fours until he was able to reach the metallic object and pull it out to study it.

It was some sort of silver chest, the metal hammered meticulously to decorate the sides and the curved lid. On the top of the lid it had been formed into a lion’s head, complete with fierce mane and teeth. There were feet attached to the base of the small chest as well. One paw in each corner. It was small enough to sit safely on his lap while he lifted the lid open, a familiar soft, silvery glow bathing his face as the pensive inside was revealed.

He didn’t know what possessed him, whether it was the fact that the chest was moulded into a lion, or that it had been beneath Sirius’ bed, but Harry lifted the chest onto the bed and dropped his face into the swirling memories.

“What am I meant to be saying, Padfoot. He’s your Godson.”

Harry found himself looking at Remus as he had been during Harry’s fifth year, permanently furrowed brow included.

“Yes, but it’s my memory.”

“Then why the hell don’t we just do this in front of a mirror.”

“Oh right. This is why you were always the brains, Mooney.”

The image shifted slightly so that he was looking at a reflection of Remus and Sirius stood side by side.

“Harry, I know you’re probably wondering what’s going on, but I’ve set in place the motions to make you my heir should anything happen to me.”

“Which it won’t, Padfoot because you’re going to be careful.”

“Right, Mooney. But, just in case, you’ll have found this Pensive hidden in my room. Hopefully once everything is over.”

“We’ve put a few of our memories in it for you, Harry. I was shocked at how little you knew of your parents when I taught you in your third year. So here are our memories, for you to view whenever you please, if for some reason we don’t make it and can’t tell you the stories ourselves in calmer times.”

“We love you, Harry. Always remember that.”

Harry yanked his head out of the Pensive before the next memory could begin automatically, wiping away the tears that were already streaming down his face. He didn’t know if he was ready for this. But then again, he didn’t know if he’d ever be ready for this.

Taking a few deep breaths, he returned to the memories that Remus and Sirius had left him, the silver strands swirling around him until he landed in an unfamiliar living room decorated for Christmas.

The first people he saw were Sirius and his father lounging on the sofa in front of him, watching something behind where Harry had landed. He fixated on the happiness shining all over his dad’s face for a moment, the love in the glint of his eyes telling Harry that it was his mother who stood behind him. And, sure enough, when he turned away from his dad, there was his mother, Lily, the lights from the Christmas tree bouncing off her fiery red hair.

As she spun around, swaying to the Christmas carol she was humming, Harry realised that she was holding him in her arms. A tiny, baby Harry, all rosy cheeks and huge smile. Wide, green eyes staring up in awe at his mother as she sang and swayed with him to the tune.

He was witnessing the only Christmas they had been able to have as a family and it looked as though it had been so happy. The living room in the house at Godric’s Hollow was so full of joy despite the threats that lay outside these four walls thanks to the war raging around them. Harry wondered if they knew already that they would all get so caught up in it. James, Lily, Sirius and Remus. His family. Those who had always loved him and those who would be there with him at the end of it all.

He stayed as long as he possibly could in that memory, watching his mother sway to Christmas carols that she sang to him where he lay in her arms, the brightly decorated tree blinking behind her.

This time, to this memory, for the first time in months, he let his tears flow freely.

#my fic #mind the angst #harry potter #post hogwarts #hp ficlet

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ch4nb4ng · 6 years ago

Text

The Club

Word Count: 3.4k

Chris clubbing! au

Warning: sex, oral sex, idk why I bother putting this on my post, this a a nsfw writing account gjhfsk

A/N: hi guys, sorry I have not posted in a bit. I was having a break after some personal stuff. Anyways, this is my first Chris fic I’ve written and I’m nervous because I worked really hard on it. I hope you enjoy reading!

After almost a year of having your head in the books, one exam after another, you needed one night to be with friends, go out, have one shot after another until your whole body became numb. This just happened to be the night.

The clock struck 11:30pm. You felt the bass of the walls vibrate through your chest as the music playing in the club banged with each beat. Your ears deafening, body sweating, head thrown back in pure bliss as you swayed your hands in the air side to side in sync with the rhythm. Almost 6 Tequilla shots later and you were buzzed, to say the least. You almost felt like a whole new person was crawling out of you. Your drunk alter ago was crazy. She would yell scream, kiss random guys, sometimes her own friends even. But she didn't care, as long as she was having a good time.

“Omg Y/n look, Changbin and his friends are here!”

You turn around to see Changbin, Minho and Woojin moving towards you. You had known them since the beginning of high school, being really good friends who you knew were coming tonight. You knew one of your friends, Y/n friend kinda had something going on with Changbin, so you quickly said hi to him and let them go off. You also said hi to the other boys, before one more guy that you had never seen before approached you and your friends.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you. My name is Chris,” he politely smiled.

Your eyes slightly widened, heartbeat slightly accelerated more than it already was from the alcohol when your eyes became in contact with other, bringing you to a complete stop. Everything around you became slow the longer his eyes lingered on you. He had to be, hands down, the most attractive person you had ever laid eyes on. He had blonde hair, pushed up, exposing his forehead with a headband. Plump lips, perfect teeth, even a goddamn eyebrow slit. It was like he knew it was your weakness. Not to mention, his broad shoulders and large chest which was partly exposed by the long, loose black buttoned shirt that had nearly half of them undone. That wasn’t the best part however. You clenched your mouth hard, preventing your jaw from dropping to floor when you saw his arms and hands which had the sleeves rolled up. He had veins running all the way up from his well-built biceps, down past his forearms, all the way to his hands. All you could think about was having those precious fingers inside of you.

And in that moment, it was like all of the alcohol had worn off. You weren’t the drunk, confident alter-ego anymore. You swallowed heavily when you realised it was your turn to introduce yourself.

“Hi. I’m y/n,” you almost whispered, you legs almost shaking from the nerves you had. He was so intimidating, you couldn’t help it.

He turned to look at you. Raking his eyes up and down your body, he smirked, before leaning closer into you.

“Well, hello Y/N, would you maybe, wanna get a drink?” He chuckles, before cocking his head and pressing a small kiss to your left cheek. You turn to look at one of your friends and the boys, giving you a suggestive face while slowly creeping away, giving you no choice but the go with him.

“Oh um, sure,” you smile politely, before he grabs your hand, intertwining both of your fingers so you wouldn't lose each other in the mass crowd of people. You heart skipped a beat when you made contact. Skin feeling like hot fire from his touch. However, you pulled yourself together, long enough to make it to the bar.

_______________________________________________________________________

“Wait, you what!” you cried, tears almost falling from your eyes from laughter at Chris’ story for the 4th time.

“You heard me. I had to!” He whines, laughing in unison with you.

It had been at least a solid 20 minutes of you two just talking. Getting to know each other, mixed with alcohol. He winks at the bartender who places your 5th shot of vodka. You both raise your glasses up simultaneously, smiling at each other,

“To…. h-having a good time tonight!” Chris slurs a little, causing a few people around you to cheer as well. You nod, chuckling lightly before tapping the small glasses together, swallowing the clear liquid. You through your head back as the all too familiar burn cascade down your throat.

Chris puts hand out towards you,

“Shall we dance?”

“Oh! OF COURSE!” you yell, grabbing his hand without hesitation this time, before making your way to the dance floor. You quickly find your friends. Woojin and Minho with some random girls, Changbin and Y/n friend, as predicted, and your other two friends enjoying each other’s company.

“Y/N!” The both yell, but calm down once they see Chris behind you, with his hands around your waist. They both raised their eyebrows at you, before a new song began playing. You give them a slight smile, preventing Chris from seeing your true excitement. The vibration regaining consciousness back in your chest as the music blares through the speakers. You begin to dance. Swaying your hips to the beat.

“Y/n?” Chris yells in your ear, trying to get your attention. You quickly turn around to face him. Without warning, he pulls you in, hands firmly against your lower back. You feel his beginning to harden cock pressed up against your inner thigh. He presses his body up even harder against you, able to feel his abs against your stomach.

“Let me show you.”

He doesn’t finish sentence. Instead, he turns your around, digging his hands into your sides, firmly grinding your ass up against his now fully hardened cock. You stiffened a little, but quickly relaxed when you rested your head in the crook of his neck, placing your hands on top of his to soothingly rub them up and down your sides.

“Let me show you a good time.” He groans, before slightly thrusting his hips against yours. You bit your lip and chuckled, before bringing your head back up. You looked over to your friends, who high fived each other and gave you the thumbs up at you in support.

“Well, what are you waiting for,” you ask, turning around to face him. You place your arms around his neck, cocking your head to side, before brining it dangerously close to Chris’ lips. You breathe heavily, him being able to feel your warm, intoxicating breath, “don’t just tell me, show me.”

He replies by slowly pressing his lips against yours. It wasn’t the rough contact you were longing for, but you weren’t complaining. His soft lips gently massaged yours, almost like they were moulded perfectly for each other. His hands snake around your waist to your ass. He gives it a tight squeeze, before leaving them there. He pushes his tongue against your lips, begging for access. You happily give it to him, moving your hands up to his hair, slightly pulling his locks to change the angles that you kissed from.

You tongues danced over each other as you move one hand down,slithering it under his shirt, feeling his extremely hard and defines muscles, almost finding it hard to concentrate because of how nice his body felt.

You move your lips away from his, kissing him along his cheek, all across the side of his face until you reach his ear. You bite down on his lobe gently, causing him to catch his bottom lip in between his teeth. You continue down, pressing gentle kisses all the way down his chiseled jawline and neck, before stopping at his very exposed collarbone. You begin to suck harshly, knowing that it would definitely leave marks on him by the morning. Chris inhales sharply, gipping your sides eagerly once again for support.You disconnect once again, before turning around. You go back to grinding yourself into him at the beat of the song, bringing his hands up to your chest, allowing for him to give a gentle squeeze. You then bend over, really giving you the ability to move up and down at a pace you wanted, and you knew he would enjoy.

Bringing yourself back up soon after, you laugh in pleasure, a small moan escaping your lips when he flicks your left nipple. He brings a hand down, moving your crop top to the side, before dipping two fingers into your skirt, running them alongside your clit. You wanted to scream, but he covers your mouth with his large hands.

“Only I wanna hear that pretty little scream. Hear you moaning my name as I ruin you over, and over, and over again” he groans with heavy breaths in between, before finally pressing his fingers against your centre, flicking it from side to side. You muffle your scream against his hand, a throaty chuckle coming from the depths of his throat.

“I can’t take it anymore. You are so fucking sexy, y/n. Let’s get outta here.” He demands, in which you grab his wrists and pull him out of the club quickly in response.

You grab the first taxi and jump in. He tells the driver his address before you begin moving. He can’t keep his hands off of you in the car. At first, nothing was happening. You were looking out the window, before you felt the palm of his hands on your thigh, moving his thumb in circular motions. You felt a dull ache at your core from his touch. He was such a tease. But you loved it. You wanted, no, you needed him so bad. Needed those long, spider like finger tips inside of you, one finger pressed to you clit, licking you up and down at the same time. The amount of time it took to get to his place was about to drive you insane.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when you felt his whole hand move closer to your centre. Your legs tensed when you felt the tip of his thumb circle over your clothed clit. You wanted to scream. Stop the car and push him across the back seat and ride him into the sunset. You couldn't take it anymore. This was too much for you. You grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling him in to smash his lips against his, when all of a sudden, the car stops. You groan in frustration. So close, yet so far.

Chris gets out of the car first, walking around to your side, opening the door for you. You laugh and roll your eyes. How could he be such a gentleman? Right now? Regardless, you got out of the car, grabbing his hand to let him lead you into his place. The door opens quietly, before Chris slammed it, pressing you up against it, putting your arms above your head.

“Think you’re gonna leave marks on me and that’s it, do you?”

He moves his head to the side, leaning towards your ear. He begins to gently suck on your lobe, a small moan leaving your body at his soft lips caressing your ear. He begins to move downwards, sucking on the crook between your neck and collarbone.

“Chris, please. Stop teasing me. I’ve had enough.” You moan, followed by small pants.

“If you say so,” he complies, “This,” he points at the skirt and top you were wearing, “take them off.”

You obey him, taking them off instantly, while Chris walks around the corner to the kitchen to turn the lights on.

A smirk reappears on Chris’ face when he sees you on nothing by the matching red lace bra and panites set you wore underneath your outfit. You mentally high fived yourself for that choice in undergarment. He walks over to you, eyes full of lust when you make eye contact with him. Exactly like an hour ago when you had just met for the first time. He begins at the spot where he left at, making sure that there was at least 5 different marks left. He proceeds down towards the centre of your chest. He leaves a trail of warm kisses down you, while unclasping your bra, revealing your breasts.

Chris took his bottom lip between his teeth, “fuck y/n, you are so beautiful,” he says before engulfing himself in your left nipple. He sucks and flicks his tongue around it, while pinching the other one, you head lightly hitting the door as you felt the sudden pleasure beginning to fill you.

“Ugh Chan, your tongue feels so good baby,” you moan, lightly rubbing your thumb against his forehead.

“You think my tongue feels good there? Oh just you wait princess.”

He continues his journey down, rubbing small circles on your hip bones while leaving soft, but wet kisses down the center of your stomach, until he is just above your core. He looks up at you, eyes full of passion and ambition to have you.

“May I?” He asks you in a soft tone, completely catching you off guard. ‘His duality is crazy,’ you thought to yourself.

“Chris please, I need you, now.” You whine. He smirks once again, before plunging his tongue into you. You shriek at the contact. He flicks his tongue side to side, then around and around and then side to side again, leaving you barely able to stand.

“H-holy shit,” You struggle to get out.

“Mhm you like that baby?” Chan asks in a satisfied tone.

“Oh yes baby, your tongue feels so good on me,” you groan, hands moving into his hair, interlocking them in his curls to support you standing.

“Mmmm,” he hums, sending vibrations throughout you, “let’s move this to the couch.”

You nod, moving over and lying on the couch like he asked.

“No no no,” he argues, “I’m on the bottom. I want, no, I NEED you to sit on my face. Right now.”

You do what he says, getting up off of the couch and letting him take your previous position. You line yourself up with his face, before slowly sinking down on him. You moan in relief when you feel the familiar feeling of his perfectly textured tongue underneath you.

“Right there Chris,” you moan, beginning to move your hips against him. He maintains his eye contact with you as you see his tongue flickers in and out of your entrance. Your mouth forms ‘o’ shape as you feel the pit in your stomach begin to build up. You were getting close. You wrapped your fingertips in his hair as your rode his face. The pleasure beginning to really build in you more and more.

“fuck ,” you grumble, knowing at any moment you would reach your breaking point, “that’s it baby. I’m gonna cum.”

Chris chuckles against you, moving his tongue even faster, a scream leaving your body. Just as your about to cum, he stops, moving his tongue away from you clit.

“Are you serious?” You ask, annoyance in your tone at the abrupt withdrawal of contact. Chris chuckles.

“You thought I was gonna let you cum that easy. You should have learnt by now that I’m a tease, y/n.” He smirks, causing you to roll your eyes.

He gets up, grabbing your wrist and pulling you down his dark hallway to his bedroom. He turns on the lights and throws you on the bed. He takes off his shirt, revealing his established muscular body that you had previously felt. He follows by ripping off his belt and throwing his jeans. You couldn’t help but begin to touch yourself at the sight. He was so sexy and beautiful. You begin rubbing circles lightly on your clit, followed by entering one finger inside of you.

“Shit, that is fucking sexy. Don’t stop that now.” Chan groans with his raspy voice, before taking his boxers off, throbbing cock springing against his stomach. You moan at the sight. It was so big and veiny, you began to imagine how it would feel inside of you, turning you on even more.

He begins to stroke himself, a sigh of relief escaping his mouth. You match your pace with the speed of his strokes, moaning and groaning in unison. He brings his other hand up to your mouth, making you suck on his log, juicy fingers.

“Fuck this, I can’t take it anymore.” Chris murmured, before hovering over you. Smashing his lips against you this time, before lining his tip up with your entrance. You both moan once he plunges into you. You feel the veiny texture of his beautiful cock as he pushes all the way into you. He gives you a moment to adjust, your inside clenching around him, before he continues to thrust in and out of you.

The scent of lust, sex and desire in the air as he continues to fuck you. A series of moans, groans and cuss words are released into the room.

“That’s it baby oh my god. You fuck me so good,” you whine to him, encouraging him to pick up his pace. He begins to slam into you. Harder. Faster. He can barely take it himself.

“You like that baby? No one else can fuck you like I can. God, you are so fucking tight,” He grunts, bucking his hips in an upwards direction. An ‘o’ face appearing on your face once again as he hits your g-spot.

“Oh my god Chris, that’s it right there. Don’t fucking stop,” you screech.

He continues in the same position, head rolling to the back of his neck in a complete state of euphoria and ecstasy.

“Oh my god baby, I’m gonna cummm,” you moan, feeling that pit in your stomach begin to build up once again.

“Me too baby. You feel so fucking good. Cum for me, right now.” Chan grunts, moving himself even faster in and out of you.

On cue, you scream as you reach your climax. Your body begins to contort, from the over stimulation as you rode out your high. You begin to feel dizzy as he continues to fuck you. A few moments later he finishes himself releasing his load inside of you, unable to control himself for any longer.

He falls next to you, rubbing the beads of sweat off of his forehead from the strenuous exercise you two had just participated in.

“Wow,” you say simultaneously, nothing but laughter filling the room.

“You can um, stay here tonight, if you want.” Chris says shyly.

“OH um, thank you. That would be nice.”

You take off the sheets and crawl into his bed. You roll onto your side, not wanting to face him due to the slight embarrassment you were feeling. Not long after though, however, you feel the warmth of another body pressed against you. Chris puts his hands around your waist.

“Goodnight,” he whispers sweetly into your ear.

“Goodnight,” you reply, before drifting away into a blissful sleep in the comfort of his arms.

___________________________________________________________________________

You wake up slowly the next morning, head banging heavily from the large amount of alcohol you had consumed last night. You look around, panic beginning to fill you as the setting was unfamiliar. However, you quickly remembered where you were, and what had happened. You begin to heat up a little at the thought of definitely the best sex you had ever had.

“Good morning,” Chris rolls over, his morning voice a lot more deeper, raspier and sexier than it already was.

“Good morning,” you giggle in response, before he closes the gap between you two, pressing your foreheads together. He bites his lips, moving his hands to your side once again,

“I had a lot of fun last night,” he whispers, scared that someone will hear him. You rolled over, placing yourself in between his legs. You grab his cock, giving it few strokes before sitting on it, rubbing your clit back forth against it.

A small stifling moan escapes his mouth,

“So did I. Why don’t we continue?” You ask in an innocent tone, before quickly lining yourself up with his entrance, sinking down on him slowly, both of you groaning in relief at the familiar feeling.

“Sounds good to me.”

#stray kids #stray kids smut #bang chan #chris bang #bang chan smut

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ohcndrea · 5 years ago

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ANDREA PEARSON ( ALISHA BOE ) is a 17 year old JUNIOR student at Broadripple Academy. SHE is originally from MILFORD, CT but moved to Broadripple 3 YEARS ago. SHE is CREATIVE and QUICK WITTED but can also be SHORT TEMPERED and JUDGEMENTAL.

task 1 under the cut – stats page here – wanted connections page right here

1. Full Name?

Andrea Mona Pearson

2. Preferred Names or Nicknames?

Andrea, Drea, or D

3. What does their name mean? Does it have any significance in their family? Do they like their name?

Andrea means Brave and Mona means Noble Good. The name Andrea came up after her brother was named Zachary, A to Z. The Mona Lisa is a gorgeous, famous piece of art of a mystery woman. While the name was originally just meant to be an homage, Drea rather likes the idea of being a mystery woman, whatever that might mean. She loves her name, she thinks it’s original and surprisingly artistic considering her parents. The only thing she doesn’t like about it is the nickname Andy.

4. Age and Date of Birth?

17, 30th of January ( making her an Aquarius zodiac )

5. Gender and Pronouns?

Cis Woman – She/her

6. Hometown?

Milford, Conneticuit

7. Does your character fit into any well known archetypes or tropes?

Literally every Aquarius trope known to man (elusive, creative, spontaneous, inconsistent, and stubborn). Equally distant and overbearing parents. The wanderer: never settling, always feeling as though there’s something more. Attention and approval seeking teenager, constantly needing to be validated. Cool Girl Complex, moulding herself to be what she thinks everyone wants, feeling as though she’s not being genuine because of that. Seemingly effortless, appears to not have to put much work into her grades, looks, or anything but it’s not quite the case.

8. How long have they been at Broadripple?

Since freshman year so three years.

9. What led them to apply to Broadripple? Was it a decision made by them or by their parents/guardians or somewhere in between?

Her brother attended an all boys private boarding school when he had been going through high school so it had already been decided Drea would be going to a private boarding school it was just a matter of which one. Drea chose Broadripple out of series of options provided to her by her parents. It was close enough to Milford that she could go home if she really wanted to, but far enough away that her parents probably wouldn’t come visit regularly. She could be free from her parents watchful, judgemental gaze, but not completely detached.

10. Whether they’ve been at Broadripple four days or four years, do they enjoy it? Do they like Broadripple?

In some ways she loves it, in others she hates it. Mostly she likes it. The pros outweigh the cons and the cons were always going to appear at any boarding school she attended. All her friends are there and she adores her friends. She dreads going back to Milford for summer, winter, and especially Thanksgiving break. She hates that her school shirts are itchy that her ass doesn’t look as good in the school skirt as it does in tight jeans. She hates the way teachers catch her when she tries to get away with breaking the rules, but she loves the adrenaline when she does get away with it.

11. What house are they in? Do they care very much about their house?

She’s in Melleray and she could not care less about her house. She uses house events as an opportunity to either lay in the sun or to try napping with her eyes open.

12. Who do they share a dorm with, or are they on their own for the moment? What are they like to live with? Are they clean or messy? Early risers or night owls?

She shares a dorm with Kat Bishop, her best friend and soul sister. Which is tragic for everyone around them. She’s somewhere between clean and messy. Things have a place but it just doesn’t look very neat. She also likes trying on five different outfits and hates putting clothes away so the end of her bed is usually covered in clothes until she gets annoyed at the weight on top of the duvet when she sleeps. Drea’s sleep schedule is a mystery to everyone. Some nights she’ll be awake until four am listening to old One Direction songs for no good reason at all and other nights she’ll fall asleep watching a movie at 7:30. But she’s certainly not a morning person. She will cradle a coffee and a bleary eyed look until second period at least.

13. How is your character’s dorm decorated? Is it bare or bursting at the seems with personality? Any particular sentimental items from home?

Having been at Broadripple for three years Drea has collected some real junk in her dorm. She still has books from freshman year pushed to the back of her desk even though she should really just give them to the library. She has a lot of art supplies, multiple notebooks, loads of pens and pencils (shoved haphazardly in a small pot she got from urban outfitters one time that lives on her desk). Her wall is decorated in a small collection of postcards and photos. The postcards are generally museum postcards, copies of artworks she likes, but there are a few depicting the beaches of Spain and Portugal, the Eiffel Tower, the Sculpture of David, and Roman Ruins at sunset. Photos on the wall include some with her friends, some with her family. There’s also a couple of drawings scattered in amongst the rest of the images. Mostly by her, at least one by Jay. She has a peach crocheted blanket from home and an old Yale sweatshirt that she stole from her dad’s closet. They don’t stand out among the rest of her belongings and she doesn’t treat them any different but she would be very upset if she lost them.

14. What is their favourite subject at school? Do they even have a favourite? Why?

Probably programming though she wouldn’t admit it. She likes the creative side of code, trying to make things work and look nice and flow. Second to that would be Chemistry, she rather likes science. It something that makes sense to her quite easily and it’s the more interesting of the “traditional” classes that she takes. Third, ASL. But again, she would never admit any of that because school is for nerds.

15. Are they involved in any clubs? Which ones?

She’s in the Women of Broadripple Club and just like, really shouldn’t be. Her mom signed her up when dropped her off at Broadripple in her first year despite not contributing to the group at all she’s never been bothered to leave the group. She usually shows up to meetings hungover and has a little nap up the back.

16. How does your character feel about Broadripple’s Unofficial Clubs? Do they know about them? Are they a part of any of them?

She definitely knows about the Broadripple Boys Club and the Unauthorised Chastity Club but probably doesn’t think Broadripple Unsolved is real. BAU is just a bunch of nerds hanging out and thinking about jerking off aliens and calling it a club as far as she’s concerned. Feels kind of similar about the Chastity club but instead of jerking off aliens its jerking off God. She avoids the Chastity club at all costs, she really does not like dealing with them and would rather make fun of them from a distance. Now the BBC, she really thinks she should be one of them, she really does. But seeing as they don’t take female members, she’ll settle for trying to impress them, flirting with them, and stealing booze at their parties ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

17. Does your character participate in any sports? If so, what made them join the team?

She’s on the Cross Country team, in her freshman year she was also on the Track team but she decided in sophomore year that she’d rather just do cross country. She prefers it, track is such a competition to be the best and be the fastest, and she’s just not an especially competitive person. But she likes running, it really clears her mind so she kept up cross country.

18. What afternoon activities does your character do? Do they just do the one mandatory one or are they involved in multiple? Why?

She used to just do the one, just painting (because she’s an artistic ass bitch and it was her one school appointed time to be creative) but since having an argument with her parents over the summer she has since started tutoring. While she’s quite smart and gets good grades, she’s a horrendous tutor. She tends to get things in class very easily so explaining them to people who don’t understand them first go is very hard for her. She gets frustrated and probably ends up doing a lot of their work for them.

19. Do they miss their home when they’re at Broadripple? Do they often go home for the weekends or do they only go home during holiday breaks?

Not especially. She goes through phases where she might feel homesick, if she’s not talking to her friends for whatever reason and feeling rather lonely. But for the most part she likes the distance. In the three years she’s been at Broadripple she’s probably only gone home on the weekends two or three times.

20. Did your character know Izzy De Santis or Maggie Monroe?

She knew them both though neither well. She had written them off mostly as religious freaks that she didn’t want to associate with. Freaky minions of God that would tell her she was going to hell if she didn’t repent for the amount of booty pics she sent.

21. Has your character heard of Edith Lynch? Do they know the story?

She’s heard of her and she knows the story. During probably her first week of Broadripple the girls got together and told the spooky story and that’s what Drea thinks it is: a story. She knows Edith was real but she thinks the story she heard has probably been blown way out of proportion and she’s never looked into it so she has no idea if that’s true or not.

22. How does your character feel about Nighmore? Have they noticed the recently closed shops yet?

She thinks Nighmore is super weird. She gets a really weird vibe from the people and would rather go anywhere else but it’s just so conveniently close, especially since she doesn’t have a car. She has noticed the closed shops because Kat got hysterical about not being able to buy potatoes.

23. Have you made any aesthetic Pinterest boards/WeHeartIt collections for this character? Or playlists? Anything you would like to share!

She has a pinterest board and a weheartit collection lmao, also has a playlist but i’ll probably do a seperate post for that eventually

#i am v v v excited but v v v sad that i now i have to leave for work : (#i'll be on mobile and on the discord once that's live so hit me tf up and lets get some shit goin my guy #also conny's will posted soon i just legit feel like im spamming everyone lmao sry #bahq:task1 #bahq:intro

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redheadnamedabigail13 · 5 years ago

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Taylor Swift: Music Week Magazine

November 4, 2019