#chicago blues festival

[arcticmonkeyoftheday]

part one of arctic monkeys at the house of blues, chicago, 2011.

[thejoyofviolentmovement]

News/Announcements: 12th Annual Blue Note Festival Lineup

News/Announcements: 12th Annual Blue Note Festival Lineup @BlueNoteNYC @bluenoterecords @SonyHall @BeaconTheatre @TownHallNYC @SummerStage @BRICcelebrateBK @ManhattanCenter @SACKSCO

bnposter81Download Since its founding back in 1981, the Blue Note Jazz Club is recognized as being one of the premiere venues in the world. The club strives to preserve the history of jazz while simultaneously encouraging and practicing innovation on a nightly basis. In addition to iconic appearances from the likes of Chick Corea, McCoy Tyner, John Scofield, Ron Carter, Chris Botti, Joe Lovano…

[pier-carlo-universe]

La storia del Blues: dalle radici africane ai palcoscenici internazionali. Di Alessandria today

Un viaggio attraverso la nascita, l’evoluzione e l’impatto culturale del genere musicale che ha cambiato il mondo

Un viaggio attraverso la nascita, l’evoluzione e l’impatto culturale del genere musicale che ha cambiato il mondo Le radici del Blues: l’origine africana. Il Blues affonda le sue radici nel dolore e nella resistenza. Nato nel sud degli Stati Uniti alla fine del XIX secolo, il Blues è il risultato dell’incontro tra la tradizione musicale africana e le esperienze dei lavoratori afroamericani…

[raisingkidsinchicago]

Fall in the City: Chicago’s Must-Do Activities for October 25-27

 Juliana Yeager  Boo Bash at Hamilton Elementary Come enjoy a day packed with fun for everyone, including a costume parade, a Thriller Flash Mob dance lesson, live interactive reptiles and insects, spooky carnival games, arts and crafts, exciting prizes, music, food for purchase, and the famous Hamilton Haunted House, hosted by Hamilton’s scariest Middle Schoolers! Photo By Choose…

[sinceileftyoublog]

Shemekia Copeland Interview: Break It Down to the Basics

Photo by Dave Specter

BY JORDAN MAINZER

A couple weeks ago, in speaking with Shemekia Copeland over the phone, I called her out. Though her new album Blame It On Eve, out Friday via Alligator Records, is her purported attempt to make an album that's a "break from the news" instead of "breaking news," she still sings about doomscroll-worthy topics. She admitted it right away. "I can't help myself," she said. "There was no way I couldn't talk about women's rights on this record." The album's very title refers to society's tendency to put the woman at fault, one that, of course, has biblical precedent. Copeland always has a way of selling you without hitting you over the head. "Hurricanes and tropical twisters / Always gettin' named after some sisters," she sings on the title track, "But the worst winds come from DC / Stealin' rights from you and me." Even alongside Jim Hoke's skronking saxophone and Luther Dickinson's screaming guitars, it's Copeland's wail that rises above.

Copeland calls herself "an idea person" who works with a stellar team of songwriters. Like most lyricists do, she jots down song ideas when they come into her head, and flushing the songs out with her team happens organically. "It's like getting a dress tailor made to fit you," she said. Blame It On Eve is her most balanced record yet. There are autobiographical songs (the blues stomp "Tough Mother"), paeans to interracial love ("Cadillac Blue"), gospel-rock jams ("Tell The Devil"), educational treatises ("Tee Tot Payne"), and even a couple covers, including her father Johnny's "Down on Bended Knee". Copeland turned to longtime collaborator Will Kimbrough to produce the record and play various instruments on it, and the core band of Kimbrough, bassist Lex Price, and drummer Pete Abbott treats Copeland's words with appropriate gravity. Kimbrough's mournful, echoing licks mirror Copeland's pained expressions on "Only Miss You All the Time". And the band's rock and roll strut gives levity to an otherwise serious song "Broken High Heels", where Copeland cleverly compares our collective attitude towards climate change to "Dancing in a graveyard in broken high heels."

Indeed, Copeland's songs that one might call "political" aren't really that--they're just about issues that affect everyday life. "Anything uncomfortable, people want to call it political," Copeland said. On "Is There Anybody Up There?" a duet with Alejandro Escovedo, the narrator starts to doubt that God is listening when looking at the ills of the world, like our broken immigration system, before realizing that his very doubts make him a sinner, too: "If they crucified poor Jesus, think what they'll do to me!" "Tee Tot Payne" is, of course, about the Black man who taught Hank Williams the blues. Copeland views the song as part of the larger conversation going on about Black influence on country music, and an important opportunity to engage with Black history. "Rhiannon Giddens wrote an amazing essay about the banjo and how it wasn't originally an instrument used amongst white bluegrass artists as much as it was used within Black culture," Copeland said. "They're trying to get rid of history, so for my last records, I try to put something educational in there."

As traditional as is the music Copeland makes, her view on making records and performing is pretty consistent with that of today's world. She's the first artist I've ever interviewed to admit that the sequencing of her albums isn't crucial. That is, she doesn't care whether listeners listen to the album's songs in order as much as they pay attention to what's in each song. "In all honesty, I don't believe sequencing is that important because people don't listen to records that way. I still do, but people don't listen to records in sequence. People pop it into their device and listen to it the way they want to," Copeland said. She then offered a caveat. "But it's important to me that they hear all the songs. They all fit on the record in some shape or form." That's Copeland, the idea person, thinking big picture, knowing that the collection of songs makes a whole, but each individual track tells a unique story. It's perhaps why her approach to playing live is so effective. Sequencing a set is important to Copeland, but it's less about planning and more about doing some of her own listening. "I don't really do setlists. I try to feel out the audience. I have some idea what we're gonna do, but I change it up," she said.

At the end of the day, Copeland has an innate sense for what makes songs tick. As she and her team write and practice, they start to think about who else could feature on the song, always without overloading it. It's how they ended up with Jerry Douglas contributing lap steel on "Cadillac Blue", Dashawn Hickman providing Sacred Steel guitar on "Tell the Devil", and Cara Fox playing cello on "Belle Sorciere", on whose chorus Copeland sings in French. Copeland's song-making prowess, though, is never more so evidenced by her version of Ron Miller's "Heaven Help Us All", recorded most famously by Stevie Wonder and Ray Charles. The album closer, it features Kimbrough on organ and Lisa Oliver Gray and Odessa Settles providing impassioned backing vocals. Copeland had first heard the Charles version, which appeared on his 1972 album A Message from the People and featured Gladys Knight. "It [has] a lot of background vocals and horns. It was done in a very big, produced way," Copeland said. "I thought I wanted to break it down to the basics." She's not a minimalist, but when you listen to Copeland's albums or performances, or even talk to her on the phone, every word and moment is essential. She can't help it.

Tour dates:

8/30: Peoria Blues & Heritage Music Festival 2024, Peoria, IL 8/31: Fishers Blues Festival, Fishers, IN 9/1: Rhythm & Roots 2024, Charlestown, RI 9/5: Bell's Brewery, Kalamazoo, MI 9/6: The Ark, Ann Arbor, MI 9/7: Wheatland Music Festival, Remus, MI 9/17: Americanafest Showcase at 3rd & Lindsley, Nashville, TN 9/20: Fanatics Pub, Lima, NY, United States 9/21: Pittsburgh International Jazz Festival, Pittsburgh, PA 9/22: Center for the Arts of Homer, Homer, NY 9/27: Rochester Opera House, Rochester, NH 9/28: Spire Center for Performing Arts, Plymouth, MA 10/10: One Longfellow Square, Portland, ME 10/12: StageOne at FTC, Fairfield, CT 10/13: Ardmore Music Hall, Ardmore, PA 10/17: Daryl's House, Pawling, NY 10/18: Elkton Music Hall, Elkton, MD 10/19: Rams Head On Stage, Annapolis, MD 10/20: The Tin Pan, Richmond, VA 11/14: Music Box Supper Club, Cleveland, OH 11/15: The Acorn, Three Oaks, MI 11/16: City Winery Chicago, Chicago, IL 11/17: City Winery St. Louis, St. Louis, MO 11/22: Lizzie Rose Music Room, Tuckerton, NJ 11/23: Barre Opera House, Barre, VT 11/24: City Winery Boston, Boston, MA 11/30: SFJAZZ Center, San Francisco, CA 12/6: Sam's Burger Joint, San Antonio, TX 12/7: The Kessler Theater, Dallas, TX 12/8: Houston Blues Society Holiday Bash at Rockefeller's, Houston, TX 1/19: One Longfellow Square, Portland, ME 2/7: Zellerbach Theatre at The Annenberg Center, Philadelphia, PA 2/16: Vero Beach Blues Festival, Vero Beach, FL 2/22: Soka Performing Arts Center, Aliso Viejo, CA 2/23: Poway Center for the Performing Arts, Poway, CA 4/4: Lied Center of Kansas, Lawrence, KS 4/7: McCain Auditorium, Manhattan, KS 4/12: Bitterroot Performing Arts Council, Hamilton, MT

[barbarasegalandassociates]

A favorite coffee shop stop on Saturday, Ralphs.

[robmooreguitar]

Website: https://www.robmoore-guitar.com/

Address: Chicago, Illinois, USA

Rob Moore Guitar, led by the seasoned Chicago blues artist Rob "Wild Boar" Moore, offers an authentic blues experience. With a career spanning over four decades, Rob has played alongside blues legends and brings a rich blend of jazz and blues to his performances. Available for solo, duo, and band performances, as well as lectures and workshops, Rob Moore Guitar embodies the spirit of Chicago blues.

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[reasoningdaily]

Nationwide — Ennerèssa LaNette, the founder and CEO of Praize Productions, Inc. (PPI), a Chicago-based dance company and arts organization, is celebrating having reached an impressive milestone as her company commemorates its 12th anniversary season this year. This summer, PPI will participate in the inaugural Millennium Park Residency Program (MPRP), joining three other highly respected cultural organizations.Ending Soon: Funding and Grants For Black Women and Families

The program, organized by the Department of Cultural Affairs and Special Events (DCASE), offers resources and a platform for select organizations to showcase their work during Millennium Park’s vibrant summer season. On June 4th, PPI is scheduled to captivate a sold-out audience with their unique fusion of dance and storytelling on the iconic Jay Pritzker Pavilion stage.

Under the guidance of an esteemed Black female leadership team, PPI is dedicated to giving voice to the stories and experiences of Black artists through their work. By maintaining strong connections to the community and fostering social consciousness, PPI’s influence extends beyond the stage, inspiring future generations of artists and change-makers. The organization has consistently provided high-quality performances that rival those of non-minority-led dance companies. The company’s dedication to their craft has resulted in outstanding success and recognition, both at the local and national levels.

“We at PPI feel incredibly privileged to be part of the first-ever Millennium Park Residency cohort. Being a Black-led organization hailing from the South Side of Chicago, we can’t help but feel that this is a truly special chance for our city and the world to see the amazing talent that our community has to offer. Our hearts are deeply committed to working towards giving a voice, platform, and opportunities to professional artists of color, and we couldn’t be more excited about this journey,” says Ennerèssa.

Inaugural Millenium Park Residency recipient Praize Productions, Inc. led by its CEO/Founder Ennerèssa LaNette will produce a one-of-a-kind photography installation entitled “The Rhythm Within Our Blues” in tandem with this year’s Blues Festival. This unique artistic development will incorporate life size photographs that depict the history and authentic culture of Blues music told via the lense of professional photographers of color from Chicago’s South Side. Photographers include Amber Green, Seed Lynn, and Tony Smith.

Festival goers will be able to be engrossed with this exhibit as they are imaginatively transported to Bronzeville- Chicago’s Blues District while walking through and experiencing large images of historical landmarks, Blues’ artists, and much more. This new addition to the June 8-11th Blues Festival, the largest festival in Chicago, adds to the artistic richness and deep appreciation to Blues music and its greats.

For more information please visit their official website at PraizeProductions.com

[agreeeeeeeeeee]

Blue Christmas | S.H. ⋆⁺₊❅.

Steve Harrington x fem!reader

summary: You and Steve were casual fwb in high school. You're back in town for Christmas, having just broken up with your college boyfriend. You pick up a sad Christmas movie at Family Video, and Steve refuses to let you wallow alone.

cw: MDNI 18+, smut, breakups (not w/ steve), fluffff, talk of self-esteem issues, shitty exes, sweet lil marshmallow stevie, oral, p in v, praise kink, initially she's sorta using Steve to feel better (but he's 1000000% okay with it) and she ends up feeling the feelings.

The soupy heat of Family Video wafts over you when you step through the doors, the salt-covered rug squelching under foot. You lower your hood, shaking out your hair as you peer around the store. Front and center is a Christmas display loaded with movies, complete with a waving, pink-cheeked Santa Clause.

“Y/n?” A familiar, masculine voice calls over Elvis’s version of “Blue Christmas”. You squeeze your eyes shut, having prayed you’d get through Christmas in Hawkins without seeing a singular familiar face beside your mothers, and turn to the voice.

Steve Harrington, Steve fucking Harrington, is standing behind the counter, his hands braced against the edge of it. He looked more or less that same as the last time you saw him a year and a half prior. His jaw was a little squarer, his hair not quite as tall, his shoulders a bit broader. Still just as irritatingly handsome, though.

“Hey, Steve.” You waved, approaching the counter.

“I didn’t know you were coming into town,” he said, smiling as if he was genuinely happy to see you. It wasn’t that you were unhappy to see him, but your previous high school fling was the last person you wanted to see this particular holiday season.

“Yeah, well. Surprise.” You shrugged, wincing internally at the obvious melancholy in your voice.

Of course, Steve clocked it, his smile faltering. “I take it spending your Christmas in Hawkins was a surprise for you too?”

“That obvious?”

It was his turn to shrug. “I lost count of how many times you said you’d never come back once you left.”

Guilt tightened your throat. Why did he make that sound like it was so…personal? “Turns out it’s not simple.”

He hummed in response, moving out from behind the counter, his green vest looking very festive against his red crew neck. “Were you looking for anything in particular?” he asked, leaning against the counter beside you.

God, how did you forget how tall he was? You barely reached his shoulder, his chin tilted down to look at you. His cologne invaded your space, a warmer, spicier blend than you recalled him wearing. His proximity stirred butterflies in your stomach, your body remembering exactly the way felt against you, the ways he used to make you feel…the ways you hadn’t felt since despite being in a year long relationship. Well, despite having been in year long relationship.

You’d ended things when the fall semester wrapped up, effectively incinerating your plans to spend Christmas with him and his family in Chicago. Despite being the one to end things, you were still grieving. Not for him, per se, but the version of yourself you’d lost along the way. Now, you felt directionless and lonely, and being back in the town you left behind was only making you feel worse.

“It’s A Wonderful Life,” you replied, walking towards the Christmas stand to escape his magnetic aura, which somehow, you were still not immune to.

Steve grimaced. “Really? You don’t want something a little more, I dunno, lighthearted?”

“Do I look like I’m in a ‘lighthearted’ place, Harrington?” You bit.

“What’s going on?” He asked, pushing off the counter to come closer, his forehead creased with concern. “You can’t be this upset about spending a few days in Hawkins.”

“Nothing’s going on.” You turn towards the stand, pretending to peruse the options so he doesn’t see the moisture collect along your lashes.

“You think I can’t tell when you’re hurting?” He crossed his arms over his chest, giving you that stern dad look he’d mastered.

You sighed, wiping at your cheek with your scarf. “I was supposed to spend it with my boyfriend, but we broke up instead.” It all came tumbling out of you in a tearful rush. “Now I’m back in dead-end Hawkins with nothing to do by stare at the walls of my childhood bedroom, so I’m looking for a sad movie to wallow in my own misery. Is that okay with you, Officer Steve?”

He stared at you for a moment, dark eyes tracking a tear as it rolled down your cheek. “No, it’s not okay with me.” He grabbed It’s a Wonderful Life of the shelf and walked back to the counter. He rang up the film and dropped it into a bag, along with two boxes of your favorite candy, and a pack of red vines. “Your place or my apartment? My roommate’s cool, y’know, if you want a different view.”

You blinked, trying to piece together what was happening. “Steve, what—”

“Look, you can wallow all you want, but I’m not going to let you do it alone on Christmas.” He wiggled the bag at you. “You coming or not?”

“I—” Going back to Steve’s felt risky. You could still feel a thread of that physical connection with him, the vibration of your body so easily attuning to his. But, you were trying to reclaim who you were before your ex. Maybe being a little reckless was exactly what you needed. “Fuck it. Sure, let’s go to your place.”

He locked up the store and quickly led you through the frigid wind to his car, snow already accumulating on the hood and roof. He opened the door for you, having to tug hard to break the seal of ice, and gestured for you to slide in. The BMW was exactly as you remembered, with it’s dark interior and tinted windows, the smell of Steve embedded in every stitch.

You glanced at the backseat while he rounded the car, heat climbing your neck at the memories the two of you made across that bench seat.

Steve opened the door and you whipped your head forward, but you knew that he caught you, a small smile softening his face as he settled into the drivers seat. Thankfully, he didn’t rib you about it.

He cranked the heat and flipped on the windshield wipers, knocking the snow onto the ground with an umph. “Anything in particular you want to listen to?” He asked, fiddling with the tuning dial.

“Whatever CD you have in is fine,” you said, leaning back against the seat and looking out the window. “As long as it isn’t, like, Toto.”

He gasped, clutching his chest. “I can’t believe you think I listen to Toto.”

You snorted. “Well, you do listen to Duran Duran.”

“One time!” he argued.

“You had the CD in for a month!”

“Yeah, one month!”

You found yourself smiling, that glow of familiarity wafting over you. It was a little jarring that you felt more at home in the passenger seat of Steve’s car than you did at your actual home, but you could examine that later. For now, you just wanted to enjoy the ease of it. Steve always made everything feel so easy.

It was a trait of his you often resented, but only out of jealousy, and how much it made you miss his when he was gone.

God, you’d really missed him.

“How about this?” He asked, hitting play on the dash. “Don’t Tell Me You Love Me” by Night Ranger filtered through, the volume low.

“Acceptable choice, Harrington,” you replied, and he rolled his eyes.

“You’re worse than my friend Eddie,” he chuckled, placing his hand behind your headrest to check his blind spot before pulling out.

“Eddie? As in Eddie Munson?” You were baffled. Golden boy Steve Harrington was friends with Hawkins-reject Eddie Munson? What alternate reality had you stepped into?

“Yeah, why do you look so surprised?” He flicked your ear as he pulled his hand back to the wheel.

“Because!” You squeaked, batting his hand away. “You looked at a joint one time and nearly hurled. I just can’t see it.”

“Yeah, well. I’m a changed man,” he hummed, drumming his fingers onto he steering wheel as he navigated the empty streets, the snow falling in golden flurries from the headlights.

“I’m starting to gather.” You settled back into your seat, watching the familiar store fronts roll by and trying not to look at him.

“So, why’d you dump him?” Steve asked, never one to sit in silence for long.

“His cock was too big.”

Steve barked a laugh. “I find that hard to believe. You always were greedy—”

“Steve!” You gasped, smacking his arm as a embarrassment scorched your cheeks.

“What? We’re going to pretend that I didn’t fuck you after prom right there—”

“No, but, Christ!” You laughed, hiding your face in your scarf.

“Hey, you’re the one that brought up cocks.”

“My mistake,” you huffed, catching his eye as he glanced over at you, a cheeky grin crinkling his face.

“’Least it made you smile,” he said, turning into an apartment complex parking lot, full of potholes and poorly plowed snow. “Here we are, Chez Harrington.” He parked, hopped out of the car, and ran around the front to open the door for you.

You stuck your tongue out at him, teasing him for being so weirdly gentleman-ly. But as soon as you stepped out, your converse slid across a patch of black ice, sending you collapsing into his arms.

“Careful,” he chuckled, his face mere inches from yours. “It’s slippery.” He set you back on your feet and offered you his arm for balance. You begrudgingly accepted, not particularly keen on cracking your skull open a few days before Christmas.

“So who’s your roommate?” You asked as he lead you into the building.

“Robin Buckley,” he replied, fishing his key out of his pocket and letting you both into the heat-blasted lobby.

“Just how many new friends have you made?” You teased, still arm in arm as you walked to the elevator. You remembered Robin, you’d been in English together.

“Ah—” Steve glanced up like he was counting in his head. “A few.”

A stab of loneliness pierced through you. At one point, you’d had loads of friends too, never as many as Steve, of course, but a good group to call your own. But, in college, all of your friends had been your boyfriend’s first, and now…you’d fled to Hawkins, and had no idea if you’d have any friends to return to.

Your melancholy returned in earnest, soured further by the intrusive thought that Steve was only entertaining you because he felt bad for you, or worse, just wanted to get his dick wet. But, weren’t you using him for basically the same reasons? You thought you were, but then he’d been so Steve-like that you’d gotten caught up in your old banter, forgetting that gulf of months between you.

It hadn’t felt forced at all, and that made your heart rate quicken.

The elevator dinged open, jarring you from you reverie.

“Where’d you go?” Steve asked, nudging you inside. Christmas music played softly from the speaker, “I’ll Be Home For Christmas”, of course, and tears burned behind you eyes once again.

You just wanted Christmas to be over. All the manufactured joy made your hurt feel that much more real.

“Hey, c’mere.” Steve tugged you into his chest as the doors rolled closed, the elevator lifting off the ground with a mechanical groan.

You curled your hands into his sweater, breathing in his cologne and the lingering scent of saran-wrapped video store, and fought down the wave of emotion trying to choke you.

Steve’s hands rubbed up and down your back, his cheek resting on top of your head. “I’m sorry you’re having such a hard Christmas,” he murmured into your hair. “But you’re always welcome to hide away with me whenever you need to. Or want to.”

The doors dinged and you pulled away, wiping your eyes on your sleeve. “Thanks, Stevie,” you sniffed.

The look on his face was so soft, you could barely stand it, his features turned down in worry, his brows furrowed just slightly. “C’mon, we gotta get those tears out somehow.” He grabbed your hand and led you down the hall, unlocking the door to his apartment. “Buckley?” He called, flicking on the lights in the kitchen. “Robin, you home?” He called again, walking into the tidy, but cluttered living room.

There were string lights stretched across the ceiling, and a pathetic little Christmas tree on the coffee table. Posters hung on every wall, with weird art and trinkets heaped onto bookshelves and hand-me-down furniture. Steve’s shoes were in a neat row by the door, and Robin’s were scattered everywhere, mixed up and turned around.

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself. The whole place screamed Steve, form the sports memorabilia, to the specific movie posters by the TV.

“Guess she’s out,” Steve said, coming back into the living room. “I’ll take your coat and scarf.” He extended a hand to you, and you kicked off you shoes before passing him your outerwear, suddenly remembering that you were wearing just a white turtleneck underneath, sans bra.

Steve’s seen your tits countless times. It’s fine, or so you told yourself.

To his credit, he kept his eyes firmly on your face, then walked back to what you assume is his room to set your things down. He returned a few moments later, dressed in a black t-shirt and gray sweatpants.

“I set another pair of pajama pants on the bed if you wanted to, ah, get comfortable,” he said, reaching up to scratch the back of his head and gesturing to your jeans.

A flurry of butterflies tickled your insides. “Sure, thanks,” you said, slipping past him and into his bedroom.

The smell of him enveloped you once again, and you loosed a long exhale after closing the door behind you. His room was less decorated than the rest of the apartment, with just a few photos and posters on the wall, with a bookshelf by the door and his unmade bed up against the window.

You were seized with the desire to climb under his covers, wrap yourself in him, but you resisted.

Unable to help yourself, you snooped around his dresser. There, stuck to the mirror with a piece of scotch tape, was a Polaroid of you and Steve kissing at a party Senior year. He has you dipped low, his hand on your lower back, and your lips tingled at the memory.

As promised, pair of flannel sweatpants waited for you at the foot of the bed, along with a folded up sweatshirt. Your heart gave a painful thump when you realized what hoodie he’d selected. It was his grey Hawkins High hoodie, a faded, roaring tiger on the front and Harrington in bold letters on the back. It had been your favorite of his, one you would steal every chance you got.

You shimmied out of your jeans and pulled on the sweatpants, the fabric soft from wear and a handful of sizes too large. Then, you tugged the hoodie over your head, pausing to bury your face in the collar, breathing in the comforting scent.

When you emerged into the living room, you found him stretched out on the couch, bowls of candy and popcorn set up on the table, the movie’s home screen on the TV. All the lights were off, save the string lights and the Christmas tree, casting the room in a sleepy, warm glow that contrasted perfectly with the flurries of white just outside the window.

You resisted the urge to flop into his arms, and instead curled up on the opposite end of the couch, tucking a blanket around your legs. A flicker of disappointment crossed his face, but you pretended not to see it.

You didn’t trust yourself to touch him. If being wrapped up in his hoodie felt this magical, what would it feel like to be wrapped up in him?

“Ready?” He asked, pointing the remote.

You nodded, and he hit play.

You didn’t make it twenty minutes before you started crying again, real, hiccuping sobs that you’d been forcing down for over a week.

“Oh, baby,” he whispered, gathering you and your blanket in his arms. “That’s it, y/n. You need a good cry, huh?” He laid back onto the couch and tucked you into his side, your legs tangled together, your head buried into his neck as you fell apart. He wrapped his arms around you, burying his face into your hair, and just held you tightly, a safe harbor to crash into.

He let you cry for awhile without question or complaint, letting you soak his shirt with tears, before he cupped your face, lifting your head to look at him.

“You are one of my most favorite people in the whole world,” he said matter-of-factly, spurring renewed tears. But he held your face firm and didn’t let you bury yourself back into his shoulder. “And you deserve all of the wonderful things in life. And anyone who doesn’t give that to you is a fucking idiot.”

“But he was wonderful,” you whimper, trembling in his hands as the truth finally forced itself from you. “He was everything I should have wanted, but I just…I couldn’t love him. And I couldn’t lie to him anymore either.”

“You can’t help who you love,” he said gently, wiping your cheeks and nose with a tissue. “You did the right thing.”

“But what’s wrong with me? I should have been able to—”

“Nothing’s wrong with you,” Steve said firmly, sitting up slightly to look down at your tear-streaked face. “You’re—” he sighed, his thumb brushing across your cheek. “You’re everything, y/n.”

“If nothing's wrong with me, then why do I feel so alone?” you murmur, voice watery and weak.

He leaned his forehead against yours, shaky breathes mingling in the warm air. You could feel his heart racing against yours “You were never alone. I was always right where you left me,” he breathed, his nose bumping yours. “All you had to do was call.”

You sat up, shoving him off of you. “Why didn’t you call, Steve?” You felt panicked, overwhelmed by the barrage of emotions waiting for your attention. Desire, guilt for feeling desire so soon after your breakup, fear of rejection, embarrassment for how quickly you were falling for his charm once again. Ashamed that you came here in the first place, and thrilled that you still had a place to go to.

“I—” Hurt shadowed his face. “You told me you were leaving for good. That you didn't want anything to do with Hawkins.” You jumped up and he stood with you, following you as you fled to the kitchen. “That you wanted a new life!”

“I didn't mean you, Steve!” You shouted, slamming your hands on the counter. “But you had everything. Friends, prospects, a family, Nancy,” you spit. “I had nothing here but you.” The confession slipped out before you had a chance to stop yourself, like the words had been waiting on the tip of your tongue, laying just beneath the surface.

Steve stared at you, baffled. “You think I didn't need you?” He asked, voice softening.

You shook your head, turning away so he didn't see you start to cry again.

His hands gripped your shoulders and you gasped when he spun you around, his head bent low to look you in the eye. “Y/n, you and I both know that I'm probably going to die in Hawkins. I'm not one of the ones that gets out.”

You opened your mouth to argue with him, but he didn't stop.

“But you. You wanted to get out, you did get out.” He shook you as if to punctuate his point. “And I've missed you like crazy. Every damn day. But I couldn't hold you back. I couldn't be the reason you stayed here.”

Your heart fractured at his words, that he thought he wasn't worth being someone's reason. That he would somehow hold you back from happiness.

He was your happiness. And you'd been too blinded by fantasies of escaping to see it. You'd told him your entire relationship, or whatever the hell it was, that you would never stay. That Hawkins wasn't good enough for you. And he’d heard that he wasn't good enough for you.

You did what was supposed to be “better”, what you thought you always wanted, and you were completely miserable.

“Steve, I—” you couldn't find the words to express what you were thinking, what you were feeling.

“Don't. Don't give me hope unless you really mean it.” His jaw clenched, honey brown eyes rimmed with red. “I let you go once, I can't—I can’t do it again.” He leaned his forehead against yours, releasing a shaky exhale.

It clicked then, why you wanted so badly to escape from Hawkins. Why you always kept Steve at arms length despite the way your soul twined with his. Why you couldn't make the relationship with your ex work.

You dreamed your entire life of fleeing, so you were terrified of what staying meant.

“Steve,” you murmured, placing your hands on his chest, his heart thumping wildly beneath your palms. “I don't want to run anymore.”

His heart beat impossibly faster, his muscles tensing.

“I want you. Wherever we are, whatever that means.” You stood on your toes and pressed a kiss the corner of his mouth. “Hawkins isn't my home. You are.”

Steve made a pained sound in his throat, then crashed his lips to yours, desperate and rough. You opened for him, his tongue delving between your lips to lick at your teeth, dance with your tongue, claiming every square inch of your mouth as his.

You'd shared countless kisses, but none were this fervid, this hungry. Gone was your playful, tender Stevie, and in his place stood a starving man ready to claim what was his.

Heat spilled through your body, your pussy throbbing with each stroke of his tongue. Your fingers found there way into his hair, drawing him closer, wishing you could open up your skin and let him crawl inside so you'd never be apart again.

You gasped for air, chest burning as he licked a stripe up your neck, latching onto your pulse point and sucking hard.

“Steve,” you whined, lifting your left leg and wrapping it around his waist so you could angle yourself closer. His hips immediately started grinding into yours, the hardness of him hitting your clit just right through his sweatpants.

“Goddamn, I missed you,” he groaned, leaving a trail of open mouthed kisses over your neck, his hand sliding under his hoodie to feel your fevered skin.

It wasn't enough though, and he shifted to pull it over your head and tossing it across the kitchen, leaving you in your thin turtleneck.

“A turtleneck has literally never looked so sexy.” He dropped to his knees, his hot mouth finding your taut nipples through the fabric.

You moaned, head falling back as you carded your fingers through his thick hair, pulling him closer. His teeth grazed your sensitive points and you nearly collapsed onto him, the pleasure and pain rewiring your brain.

“So fucking perfect,” he hummed, biting at your outside of your left breast. His hands found the waist band of your pants, tugging them down and tossing them aside with your hoodie. “Jump up f’me,” he said, hands on your hips.

You did as you were told and he lifted you into the counter, your clothed pussy now level with his face.

“Steve,” you said, tilting his chin up to look at you. His eyes were on fire, wild with desire. “What if Robin comes home?”

“Lucky Robin,” he chuckled, voice raspy, and ducked out of your hold, his tongue laving a scalding stroke over your soaked panties.

“Ohh—shit, Stevie,” you loosed a pornstar-esque moan as he bathed your pussy with his tongue, sucking at the fabric and your clit. He finally pulled your panties aside, his tongue making direct contact with your puffy lips. You felt like you were vibrating out of your skin, the pleasure so intense you felt it in every pore, every follicle, every cell of your body.

He groaned, a euphoric sound, as he lapped at your entrance, his tongue delving inside the way he knew you liked.

“Fuck, baby,” he murmured, voice thick with admiration as he pulled back to bite at the meat of your thigh. “You taste even better than I remembered.”

You pulled at his hair, urging him back between your thighs, but he resisted, seeming to have let some the urgency ebb in favor of toying with you.

“What, honey? Your ex not take good care of my pussy?” He spread your sticky lips with his pointer and middle finger, exposing your swollen clit.

My pussy. A fresh swell of arousal pulsed through you at his words.

“No, never,” you whined, the ache between your legs growing unbearable as he studied you.

“Never?” He asked, looking up at you with his eyebrows raised. “He never ate you out?”

You shook your head, glancing away in shame.

“You poor thing,” he cooed, the tip of his tongue flicking over your exposed bundle and making your body jerk. “That why you're so squirmy, love?”

You nodded, biting your lips as he continued to slowly trace his tongue over you. “Please, baby. I need you,” you whimpered, lifting your hips to chase his mouth. “Please, Stevie. Please make me cum.”

You felt him smile against you, those brown eyes watching your face pinch with desperation, chest heaving.

“Since you asked so nicely…” He flattened his tongue against you and licked upwards, and you melted onto the counter, bliss rocking through you. The urgency from earlier returned, and he feasted on your cunt like it was the most delicious meal he'd ever had.

His tongue and teeth were everywhere, ratcheting you higher and higher with every nip, flick, and suck. You were on cloud nine, loudly singing his praises as he worshiped you with his tongue.

You felt that knot of pleasure tighten to the breaking point, hovering on the edge for less than a heartbeat before he sent you careening over the edge and into euphoria.

“Fuck, Steve!” You cried, your body convulsing as the orgasm ravaged through you. He was smiling again, lapping at the fresh honey spilling from you and holding you securely to the counter so you didn't slide off.

“There’s my girl,” he praised, licking his lips as he rose to his feet. “You look so fucking pretty like this.” He peppered kisses across your exposed neck, pulse fluttering just under the skin. “I almost feel bad for the guy. What kind of idiot wouldn't want to drown in you?”

You got your bearings, blinking away the stars in your eyes. “I even gave him head,” you chuckled, sitting up with a little assistance.

“I didn't need to know that.” He rolled his eyes, kissing you lightly, the taste of you lingering on his tongue.

“Are you jealous, baby?” You hummed, kissing along the curve of his neck.

“Duh.” His grip tightened on your thighs, head tipping slightly to give you better access.

“You have nothing to be jealous of.” You palmed his cock through his pants, licking his cheek to make him smile. “He wasn't nearly as pretty as you.”

“Of course not. Who is?” He joked, but his voice was rough with desire, his hips canting forward to rub against your hand.

“C’mon, pretty boy. Let's go to your room.”

He didn't need to be told twice. He scooped you up and practically ran to his room, flopping backwards onto the mattress with you still in his arms so you straddled him.

You leaned down and captured his lips in another kiss, quickly deepening it with a drag of your teeth on his lower lip. But before he could get too into it, you broke the kiss and shifted down his body, pushing up his shirt to kiss along his torso.

He moaned, propping himself up his elbows to watch you through heavy lids. You licked along his hip bone, making his cock kick against your chest.

“Shirt off,” you ordered, and he quickly obliged, tossing it to the end of the bed. “So handsome, Stevie,” you cooed, pausing to admire his more muscular build, though he was still quite lean. You couldn't help but lean forward and press some kisses along his happy trail and the hair across his chest, loving the masculine look and feel of him.

You kissed back down his body, settling on your knees between his legs. He watched with rapt attention as you pulled his sweatpants down and freed his weeping cock. It bounced up, slapping him in the stomach and smearing pearly precum against his skin.

It was just as pretty as your remembered, more length than girth, with a rose petal flush and pronounced veins.

You licked up the mess he’d made, kissing around his shaft while it nudged at your cheek.

“Baby,” he whined, smoothing a hand over your hair. “Quit teasing me.”

You smirked and licked a long stripe up the root of him, earning a throaty cry. You let your instincts take over, remembering every sensitive place and technique that made him unravel while you worked his cock with your tongue, doing everything but taking him fully into your mouth.

“Holy fucking—baby, you're killing me.” His hips bucked up against you, desperate to be wrapped in the heat of your body. “Mmmph, that feels unreal.”

You glanced up at him, finding his head thrown back, his eyes screwed shut. A flush had spread across his chest, a dewy sheen over his skin.

Satisfied that you'd tortured him long enough, you took his cock in your mouth, swallowing him in a fluid motion. You only reached about three-quarters of the way down before your throat protested, though he acted like you swallowed him all the way to his soul.

“Fuuuuck, y/n,” he moaned, gripping you tighter as you bobbed up and down, hallowing your cheeks. “You suck him this good?” He asked, taking over your motions and lifting and lowering you on his cock.

You shook your head as best you could, drool dribbling down your chin.

“Good,” he rasped, releasing you so you could return to your own rhythm.

You reached up and wrapped one of your hands around the base, stroking him in time with your mouth. He fell back onto the mattress, throwing an arm over his face, his chest heaving with labored breaths.

“Baby, you're gonna make cum if you keep that up,” he warned, fisting the sheets with his free hand. “F-fucking shit.”

You finally eased off him, the demanding ache between your legs too much to ignore. You needed him inside you. Now.

Apparently on the same page, he wasted no time grabbing you by the waist and tossing you back onto the bed. He climbed up between your legs, his hands braced on either side of your head. His cock was nestled against your sloppy center, drooling and hot to the touch.

He leaned down and kissed you, sweet and chaste considering you were just gagging on his cock. “This what you want?” He asked, pulling back to look into your eyes.

It felt like he wasn't just asking about the sex.

“More than anything,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He smiled and kissed you again, one of his hands reaching down to line himself up with your entrance. Breaking the kiss, you buried your face into the safety of his neck as his slid into you, your thoroughly aroused pussy accepting him with ease.

“Taking me so well, baby,” he murmured into your hair pressing soothing kisses to the top of your head. “You were ready for me, huh? So wet and soft—god—fuck.” His voice broke as you rolled your hips against him, his length gliding through you.

You threw your head back, crying out when he snapped his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt. He eased out, slow and steady, before slamming home again, knocking every thought from your mind.

“I remember how you like it, honey. Want me to fuck you stupid?” He asked, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him.

“Yes, God, yes,” you moaned, already swept up in the current of pleasure.

“I got you, pretty girl. Just relax.” He pressed a tender kiss to your forehead before reaching up to grip the headboard. He doubled his pace, rutting into you at a rate that made you see stars, your body completely surrendering to him.

With Steve, you didn't have to think. You didn't have to doubt. You could just let go and trust that he would have you.

He fucked you hard, sliding his hand between you to pet your clit the way you loved, slow and soft in comparison to the brutality of his thrusts. He could play you like an instrument, and it drove you fucking wild.

“Fuck, baby. Look at you, already a wreck for me. Does that feel good, honey?” He mouthed into the skin of your neck, breath hot and panting.

You keened when he changed the angle of his hips, hitting the terrible, magical spot inside you. Your orgasm was coming on fast, your whole body trembling as it wound higher and higher.

“I wanna feel you come around my cock, that's it. Good fucking girl—fuck!” Your and Steve’s orgasms collided, sucking the air out of the room and sending you both reeling. Bodies clinging to one another as he fucked you threw it, your pussy baring down hard on his pulsing cock.

“Fuck, I love you,” he panted, collapsing on top of you, sweaty and warm and trembling. “I love you,” he repeated, like he was a little stunned the words came out of his mouth.

You wrapped your limbs around him, his softening cock notching a bit deeper, making you both gasp. “I love you too,” you whisper, hardly believing that those words were finally coming out of your mouth after so many years.

You were so full. So full of him, of love, of excitement for what this meant. Suddenly, Christmas sounded magical again.

You lay together in a tangle of limbs, just breathing and feeling one another, basking in the honeyed afterglow.

“Merry Christmas,” he hummed, sounding almost drunk.

“Merry Christmas.” You kissed his temple, feeling your eyes start to grow heavy.

Ring ring!

“Gah, fuck,” Steve huffed, reluctantly shoving off of you and pulling on some sweatpants.

Ring ring!

He padded out into the kitchen and you followed him, wrapping a quilt around your naked body and giggling at the irritated look on his face.

“Go for Steve,” he answered, and you had to cover your mouth to suppress a laugh.

“Go for Steve? Really? That's embarrassing.” A female voice drifted through the speaker. Robin, you presumed. “Have you eaten yet?”

Steve smirked at you, running his tongue over his teeth. “Not dinner, no. Why?”

“Of course dinner. Do you want pizza, or—oh God, ew. Don't ever speak to me like that again.” Robin was quiet for a beat. “Does that mean Santa brought y/n home?”

Your jaw dropped, and Steve flushed scarlet.

“Pizza sounds great! Peppers and onions, extra sauce. Thanks, Rob!” Steve slammed the phone into the receiver.

You slinked towards him, sliding your hands up his bare chest while he tried to avoid your eyes, pink staining his cheeks. “Stevie?”

“Hm?”

“Did you ask Santa for me?”

He ran a hand through his hair. “I may have asked a mall Santa at the bar while I was drunk. Maybe.”

You grinned, affection melting your heart, and grabbed his face to peck his warm cheek. “And you remembered my pizza order,” you cooed, nuzzling him.

“Yeah, yeah. I love you, or whatever.” He murmured, catching your lips in a smiling kiss.

“I love you too, Harrington.”

Thanks for reading!

I'm still open for holiday requests, so feel free to send your ideas my way!

[suchananewsblog]

The Mahindra Blues Festival has tickets selling out. But how is it helping this musical genre?

Every year, around Valentine’s Day, blues music fans from across India and the world meet for an annual date at Mumbai’s Mehboob Studios. They congregate for the Mahindra Blues Festival. It returns on Saturday after a three-year pandemic-induced interval, marking its 11th edition, which makes it one of the country’s longest-running music festivals. That’s an impressive run for a show dedicated to…

[hlficlibrary]

Remember to leave kudos and a comment on the fics you enjoyed to show your appreciation! You can find the library's other recs here.

🍊 Own the Scars by @crinkle-eyed-boo {E, 144k}

“But I don’t belong here,” Louis insists.“Why do you say that?” James asks.“These people are all drug addicts and alcoholics,” Louis shrugs.Something sparks in James’ eyes.“And you’re not?”

Louis has never felt like he was good enough: for his stepdad, for his life-long best friend, for the life he's supposed to want. After an accident that nearly costs him his life, Louis' parents send him to rehab where he’s forced to face his demons. On the long and difficult road to recovery, Louis must confront the truths he’s been avoiding about his future, his relationships, and his sense of self-worth. Because before he can love anyone else, he’s got to learn how to love himself first.

🍊 California Sold by @isthatyoularry {M, 123k}

Notoriously closeted boyband member Harry Styles is famous on a global scale, meanwhile Louis, as his best friend, is back home in Manchester, living the typical life of a 24 year old. When Harry needs Louis with him in LA, a publicity stunt gone wrong changes their friendship forever.

A fake-relationship AU between two lifelong best friends.

🍊 I'll Fly Away by @juliusschmidt {E, 122k}

Harry and Louis grew up together in Lake County, Harry with his mom and stepdad in a tiny cottage on Edward’s Lake and Louis in his family’s farmhouse a few minutes down the road. But after high school, Louis stuck around and Harry did not; Harry went to Chicago where he found a boyfriend and couple of college degrees. Six years later, Harry ends up back in Edwardsville for the summer and he and Louis fall into old patterns and discover new ones.

ft. One Direction, the local boyband; Horan’s Bar and Grill; families, most especially children and babies; Officer Liam Payne; many local festivals and fireworks displays; and Anne Cox, PFLAG President.

🍊 Heading for Limbo by @kingsofeverything {E, 100k}

Childhood best friends who’ve fallen in and out of touch with each other since Louis’ family moved away when they were thirteen, Harry and Louis find their paths crossing again and again. Each time, no matter how many miles apart or how many years it’s been, it’s as if no time has passed. They fall back into their easy friendship, until life intervenes and sends them on their separate ways once more.

When Harry discovers some life-changing things about himself, Louis is there for him, however he needs. But it’s all temporary because Louis has plans that will move his life from New York all the way to L.A. and the distance isn’t the only thing between them.

The pieces of their twice broken hearts are scattered from the Atlantic to the Pacific.

🍊 When the Lights Go Out by thelarenttrap / @antidotetogo {E, 79k}

“Louis, what do you have to say about how last week ended?” the reporter asks. There’s a moment of silence. Harry is looking at the reporter, but eventually gives in and looks down the table at Louis. He’s looking straight ahead, as if Harry isn’t even in the room. “If you can’t take the heat, then get out of the kitchen.” Harry leans forwards, placing his arms on the table and leaning onto them to get as close to his microphone as he can while looking at Louis. “And what’s that supposed to mean?” Louis turns to him, his icy blue eyes meeting Harry's. “Driving is your fuckin’ job, act like it.”

In its near eighty years of existence, Formula 1 has never had an out gay driver. In 2017, Harry Styles signs a contract with Scuderia AlphaTauri alongside his childhood friend and competitor, Louis Tomlinson. The next decade of their careers is some of the most tumultuous press--on and off the track--Formula 1 has ever seen.

aka the one where Louis and Harry are childhood friends to enemies to lovers over the course of 15 ish years.

🍊 Bottom of the Tenth (series) by kikikryslee / @flamboyantommo {M, 60k}

As Harry stood there, the other man turned around, and he knew he was correct in who he thought it was. “Louis?” he asked, still not quite believing it. Louis blinked. “Harry? Wh– what are you doing here?” “I work here,” Harry said. “What are you doing here?” “Um, I’m picking up my brother. The nurse called and said he was sick.” Harry felt like he was going to be sick. “Wait, Ernest is your brother? Since when do you have a brother?” “Since about seven years ago, I guess. Wait, how do you know Ernest?” “I’m his teacher.” “You’re his what?” Louis exclaimed. Harry gulped. This was going to be a long year.

Or, the AU where Louis and Harry were best friends growing up, but lost touch after Harry moved away. Ten years later, Harry has moved back to town, but he and Louis don't pick up where they left off.

🍊 Never Let Me Go by loveisalaserquest17 {E, 55k}

“Harry! I’ll tell you what,” Louis exclaims, clapping his hands together. There’s a big grin on his face. “If both of us are still single by your thirtieth birthday, we’ll marry each other.”Harry’s head snaps up, eyes widening. “What?”

Harry and Louis have been friends forever, but they couldn't be more different. One night, with a little too much alcohol, they make a pact to marry in ten years if they're both still single. Now, one month before the deadline, Louis is willing to do whatever it takes to avoid ending up with his best friend. But is he, really? | Loosely inspired by The 10 Year Plan

🍊 Faking It by TheCellarDoor / @donotdialnine {M, 46k}

A uni AU in which Louis has been Harry’s best friend since he offered him cubed fruit on the playground, and they spend more time cuddling in their dorm beds than they do apart, but it’s not like that. Or is it?

Aka Harry pretends to date his best friend to escape unwanted attention from a too insistent classmate and hopes it won’t blow up in his face. Featuring embarrassing dildo accidents, awkward boners, longing, first times, late night conversations, emotional discoveries and Niall as the exasperated friend with bad advice.

🍊 it always leads to you (in my hometown) by @insightfulinsomniac {E, 40k}

Doncaster hasn’t changed much since Harry left it nine years ago to chase his dreams in LA. Harry, on the other hand, has changed a lot.

Except for one thing — he’s still desperately in love with his childhood best friend and first boyfriend, Louis Tomlinson. Who he hasn’t spoken to for the same nine long years.

A holiday story of returning home — not just to a place, but also to a person. ‘tis the damn season and This Love inspired AU.

🍊 Canyon Moon by delsicle / @eeveedel {E, 40k}

For as long as Louis has remembered, he has been promised to be mated to Harry, his best friend and the future pack alpha. But Louis’s heart belonged to the forest and to the hunt more than he could ever imagine it belonging to Harry.

Then Harry’s father dies in a violent accident, and Louis’s future alpha disappears on the wind.

An A/B/O Lion King AU

🍊 Snow In Love by @lululawrence {NR, 33k}

Harry and Louis are best friends and have been for basically as long as they can remember. For the first time since middle school, they are both single for the holidays leaving them with the brilliant idea to take each other as their dates to work events. To make things easier they will pretend like they’re dating. But then they learn something funny.

People thought they were already dating. Weird.

An advent fic featuring childhood friends, fake dating turned actual dating, really horrible secret keeping, and a winter weather surprise.

🍊 Oh, We're In Love, Aren't We? by Rearviewdreamer / @all-these-larrythings {M, 30k}

After sixteen wonderful years of friendship, it's hard to imagine any grand (and usually dumb) plans they haven't had or some type of mischief they haven't gotten into together. But, when Harry suddenly finds himself without a fiance and Louis just wants to help him feel okay again, they realize falling in love is one thing they haven't done, and that's about to change.

🍊 Forever Never Comes by Larry_you_know / @larryyouknow {M, 25k}

Victorian au, where Harry Styles, the youngest son of the Duke of Sutherland, was always a little in love with his childhood friend Louis Tomlinson, the young Earl of Doncaster, though he would never have told him in a million years. Especially since Louis never showed him any signs of romantic affection. But now Louis has invited him (and his sister Gemma) to London, and many things may not be as they have seemed.

🍊 I Wanna Be More Than Friends by @2tiedships2 {NR, 20k}

He hadn't meant to scent Harry. They were best friends and that was it. Scenting best friends wasn't exactly socially acceptable.

"Lou," Harry whispered.

Louis jumped at his name and sat up straighter to provide a bit of distance between himself and Harry.

"You can't scent me, Lou," Harry stated.

Which of course Louis couldn't scent him. They were best friends.

"I mean," Harry continued. "I wouldn't mind exactly, but if I can't scent you, I don't think you should scent me."

"What do you mean you can't scent me? I mean, I get it because we're best friends but..."

"I mean I can't smell you, Louis. I fucking can't smell you. I can't smell anything, okay?"

Or the one where Harry’s an alpha with no sense of smell, Louis’ an omega who isn’t allowed to scent his best friend, and that’s all they’ll ever be. Obviously.

🍊 threadbare by kiwikero / @icanhazzalou {M, 20k}

Harry Styles was eight years old when Louis Tomlinson kept him from falling into a machine in a Manchester textile mill.

He was 18 years old when nothing, not even the threat of death, could keep Harry from falling in love with Louis.

🍊 Restless Lane by @jaerie {E, 14k}

Louis had grown used to his boring life back in Mississippi as a stand-in father figure to his siblings. He never expected his childhood friend to show up on his lawn with the heat of summer or that he would remind Louis how much of himself he'd tucked away and neglected. He also never expected to find himself caught up in a tangled web of feelings or secrets that just might break him. Maybe he had never known Harry at all.

🍊 you and I love like it's a secret by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed {T, 4k}

Louis swallows, looking at Harry, who grins at him as though nothing’s wrong. He’s leaning against the door of a wardrobe, his long hair having lost some of its curls due to the amount of times he’s run his fingers through it. Louis is still where he was the moment the door got closed behind them, all but pressed up against the wood, trying to keep as much distance between him and Harry as possible.

His heart stutters in his chest as he looks up at his best friend. He’s known Harry since he was barely out of diapers, and Harry gets him in a way that few people ever have – or have tried to. He knows him, to the point where sometimes Louis worries that he’s able to read his mind.

Or: It's Seven minutes in Heaven, but Louis sort of feels like he's ended up in Hell instead when he's forced into a small bedroom with his childhood best friend slash long time crush.

🍊 All The Way Home I'll Be Warm by @justanothershadeofblue {T, 2k}

Harry & Louis jokingly send out holiday cards together as friends, and now everyone is congratulating them for finally getting together. A 5+1 fic, for Christmas.

🍊 What’s in a Name by @hellolovers13 {T, 2k}

Louis had always known Harry was his soulmate.

The name on his arm disagreed.

But what did his soulmark know about true love anyway.

🍊 captivity by momentofclarity / @gaycousinlarry {G, 1k}

you get to a point in life when your secrets aren't as holy as they once were.

[arcticmonkeyoftheday]

part two of arctic monkeys at the house of blues, chicago, 2011.

[queenie-ofthe-void]

A Desperate Fool - Part 6

Part 5

Last Time: Nancy starts filling in the gaps of everything Eddie's missed

~~~

Max, Lucas, and Erica were the first to quit calling. Hell, they’d always been more Steve’s than Eddie’s, since he’d adopted Max with the last of his parents’ trust money when he turned nineteen. After the kids graduated, Steve had set himself, Max, and Robin up in a cheap two bedroom apartment in Chicago where they all started school. Then Lucas moved in only a few months later– Max and Lucas in one room, Robin and Steve in the other. Only for Eddie to then uproot Steve to LA just before he could finish his degree, selfishly isolating him from his family.

Dustin was the next to disappear. They were close, and Eddie considered the kid one of his best friends. It apparently didn’t matter, which–just like with the other three–he should’ve seen coming. Steve was practically a brother to Dustin, same as Max. Eddie just always thought the split was more fifty-fifty with Dustin. It was a thick pill to swallow, but he managed.

He reached his final breaking point when Nancy and Mike started ignoring him. Eddie could make excuses for the rest of them, they were Steve’s adopted, puzzle-piece family. The Wheeler’s were Eddie’s family by blood. 

His parents kicked him out for kissing the neighbor boy– well, his adopted parents. Turns out Karen Wheeler had put him up for adoption three years before she met Ted, but was too scared to reach out, hoping he was happy with his new family. When little twelve year old Eddie showed up with a social worker at her door the next day, however, Karen welcomed him with open arms. He figures he’d be dead if it wasn’t for them, caught up running petty crimes just like his dad.

But that all meant Mike and Nancy were supposed to love him, not Steve. He called non-stop once he’d finally understood what was happening, but they never answered. Eddie remembers lying in bed for days, ruminating on how they’d picked golden boy Steve Harrington over their own family. Old feelings of neglect and rejection curdled up in Eddie’s stomach. A reminder that he was just a burden. Some lost, broken, queer kid they never asked for, forced onto them when Karen and Ted already had three mouths to feed.

Eddie's resentment towards everyone carried the band through their first national tour. He wanted to kick-off on a festival tour in Europe once they finished, but the band was exhausted. They were desperate to take a break while Metal Munson was still riding on top of the world, a full-fledged rockstar getting invites to behind-the-scenes parties, walking the red carpet, and casually dating celebrities. 

But he still loved his Corroded boys, so he agreed, thinking the break would allow them time to recover and give him more time to reap the benefits of a rockstar lifestyle. 

Except staying out every night started to lose its shine. The parties were duller than he remembered, the lights less bright. Mindless flirting with boys only interested in Metal Munson strained his smile. Strange, strong hands started to feel like sandpaper across his bare skin, the tangled sheets between them constricting Eddie until he couldn’t breathe. 

It all came crashing down when he woke up in an unfamiliar bed next to a man with fluffy brown hair, moles scattered across his back. Brilliant, sky blue eyes staring back at him.

Eddie quit going out. Stopped answering phone calls– not that the calls came from anyone who actually mattered. 

Because Steve never called. Not once, still hasn’t. And Eddie doesn't think he ever will.

~~~

Part 7

Tag List!!!

@sadisticaltarts @5ammi90 @blacklegsanji21 @jaytriesstrangerthings

@thewickedkat you didn't actually asked to be added to the tags, but I included you bc of your comment on the last part. If you'd like to not be included next time just lmk <3

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

Diana: Her Fashion Story

This was a special exhibition by Kensington Palace. I did not know it was here until I arrived for my visit of the state rooms.

Trace the evolution of Diana, Princess of Wales' style, from the demure, romantic dresses and other outfits of her first public appearances, to the glamour, elegance and confidence of her later life. In this elegant exhibition at Diana's former London home, her relationship with her favourite designers is explored through a display of some of their original fashion sketches, created for her during the design process.

I loved these. The William one could use a bit of work, but the Diana and Kate ones are so good! I am happy to report there were no pillows of Harry or Meghan at the time of my visit.

Designer sketches with fabric swatches

Left: Princess Diana's Pink Satin Evening Gown With White Raw Silk Collar And Cuffs, by Catherine Walker in 1987. (This dress was in a bunch of promo photos advertising the exhibition.) Diana wore it twice - once for this official portrait and again on a visit to the Berlin Opera House in November 1987.

Right: Catherine Walker Day Dress, worn in New Zealand.

The princess chose this pink silk dress for an official visit to Japan in spring 1986. The collar was shown to ocmplement the flowering cherry blossoms. She wore the dress again later that year to a charity ice show at Wembley arena. While there, she watched Olympic ice skating champions Jane Torvill and Christopher Dean perform.

A green Victor Edelstein gown worn for an official portrait.

The Travolta dress.

Behind is a Catherine Walker pink sequined ivory crepe gown with asymmetric neckline, worn at a banquet given by President Collor at the Itamaraty Palace while on a State visit to Brazil, 23 April 1991.

These two dresses (the Travolta dress and the Brazil dress) were both sold at an auction in 2013. See details, and other dresses from the auction, here.

Diana wore the (can't read this bit) design for her visit to Japan. (I can't read the rest.)

But read more about this dress here! She wore it for a state dinner in May 1986.

A Bruce Oldfield black velvet evening gown, worn for an official portrait by Lord Snowdon and at the first night gala opening of Les Miserables at the Barbican centre, 10 October, 1985.

This dress was also part of the 2013 auction.

Next to it is this dress that Diana wore to a Pavorotti concert in support of The Red Cross in 1995.

This Victor Edelstein dress, worn twice:

Princess Diana wore this silk lace gown from Victor Edelstein on two separate occasions. The first was in 1987 at London’s Royal Festival Hall. Later that year, she wore it again during a state visit to Germany. In 1997, designer Pat Kerr bought the gown, according to Diana: A Life in Dresses. It now resides in the Pat Kerr Private Royal Collection. (From Elle)

Tweed suit from the honeymoon photocall

From the Angola Landmine Walk

Diana's pink suit from 1997 (and an unrealized Meghan copycat? You be the judge.)

Red Catherine Walker suit. Worn to a charity luncheon for HIV/AIDS.

A collection of gowns:

Embroidered gown - Versace, worn for Harper's Bazaar Photoshoot

Purple gown - Versace, worn to a gala in Chicago, 1996

Black gown - Catherine Walker, worn to a UNESCO dinner at the Palace of Versailles, 1995

Another view, same collection of dresses.

Embroidered short dress - Worn in June 1997 to a party for her dress auction at Christie's.

Short blue dress - Catherine Walker, worn in 1997 for personal shopping excursion in London (see a better view here)

Tuxedo halter dress - Catherine Walkler, green velvet. Worn for her 1997 Vanity Fair interview and photoshoot

Bruce Oldfield, worn in 1986 on a visit to Saudi Arabia

Some quotes about Diana

Now, you might recall from my 'Victoria' Exhibit post that I mentioned I had two all-time favorite objects from the Kensington Palace visit, tied for first place. The first one was the bathroom signs, which I showed you on that post.

Now the second one:

This is the wallpaper that lined the hallway just outside of the Diana exhibition near the restrooms.

I LOVED this. The watercolors, the tribute to her fashion and style, the little references to flowers, buildings, and jewelry associated with her. I had this had my phone wallpaper for a little bit.

A closeup of the sketch for her wedding dress in the wallpaper.

About the wallpaper

So this is the last of the "royal Britain" photos! Up next, The Crown and some Harry Potters.

[thechanelmuse]

My Top Albums/EPS of 2025

It's that time again where I give y'all my end-of-the-year music list and take over your dashboard. Hopefully some of these projects or artists will be new to you.

I would love for y'all to tell me your faves this year.

Here's my list:

JAZZ

Charles McPherson - Reverence

Christian McBride & Edgar Meyer - But Who's Gonna Play the Melody

Christian Sands - Embracing Dawn

Immanuel Wilkins - Blues Blood

Jazzmeia Horn - Messages

Jeremy Pelt - Tomorrow's Another Day

Joel Ross - nublues

Kamasi Washington - Fearless Movement

Keyon Harrold - Foreverland

Lakecia Benjamin - Phoenix Reimagined (Live)

Miles Davis - Miles '54: The Prestige Recordings

Miles Davis Quintet - Miles In France 1963 and 1964 - The Bootleg Series, Vol. 8

New Brass Band featuring Trombone Shorty - Live at the 2024 New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Festival

Nubya Garcia - Odyssey

Samara Joy - Portrait

SOUL/BLUES (ROCK)

Baby Rose with BADBADNOTGOOD - Slow Burn (EP)

Brittany Howard - What Now

Christone “Kingfish” Ingram - Live in London (Expanded Edition)

Jerron Paxton - Things Done Changed

Jovin Webb - Drifter

Lizz Wright - Shadow

GOSPEL

Cory Henry - Church

Karen Clark Sheard - Still Karen

Ricky Dillard - Choirmaster II (Live)

Tamela Mann - Live Breathe Fight

COUNTRY/AMERICANA

Beyoncé - Cowboy Carter

Brittney Spencer - My Stupid Life

Caitlyn Smith - I Think of You (The Heartache Collection)

Elles Bailey - Beneath the Neon Glow

Gabby Barrett - Chapter and Verse

Lainey Wilson - Whirlwind

Luke Combs - Fathers & Sons

Mickey Guyton - House On Fire

Rvshvd - It's Rashad

Tanner Adell - Buckle Bunny (Deluxe) — 2023 album

FOLK

Bessie Jones, John Davis & The Georgia Sea Island Singers - The Complete Friends of Old Time Music Concert

Jessica Pratt - Here In the Pitch

Yasmin Williams - Acadia

ROCK

The Black Keys - Ohio Players (Trophy Edition)

Lenny Kravitz - Blue Electric Light

Linkin Park - From Zero

Olivia Rodrigo - Guts (spilled)

Sum 41 – Heaven :x: Hell

BLENDED GENRES

Amythyst Kiah - Still and Bright

Boney James - Slow Burn

Charlotte Day Wilson - Cyan Blue

Eva Cassidy - Walkin' After Midnight

Gallant - Zinc

Judith Hill - Letters From a Black Widow

Madison Ryann Ward - Purified Love

Marsha Ambrosiuos - CASABLANCO

Matthew Whittaker - On Their Shoulders: An Organ Tribute

Tank and The Bangas - The Heart, The Mind, The Soul

Victoria Monét - Jaguar II: Deluxe

Willow Smith - empathogen

R&B

Andra Day - CASSANDRA (cherith)

Avery*Sunshine - So Glad to Know You

BJ The Chicago Kid - Gravy (Deluxe)

Derand Benarr - En Route

Kenyon Dixon - The R&B You Love: For the '99 and the 2000s

Kyle Dion - If My Jeans Could Talk

Lalah Hathaway - VANTABLACK

Ledisi - Good Life

Lucky Daye - Algorithm

Muni Long - Revenge

NxWorries - Why Lawd?

Ravyn Lenae - Bird's Eye

SiR - HEAVY

Usher - Coming Home

RAP

Big Sean - Better Me Than You

Common & Pete Rock - The Auditorium Vol. 1

Doechii - Alligator Bites Never Heal

Kendrick Lamar - GNX

LL Cool J - The Force

MC Lyte - 1 of 1

Rapsody - Please Don't Cry

ScHoolboy Q - BLUE LIPS

POP

Ariana Grande - Eternal Sunshine

Billie Eilish - HIT ME HARD AND SOFT

Caroline Polachek - Desire, I Want To Turn Into You: Everasking Edition

Chappell Roan - The Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess

Christina Aguilera - The 25th Anniversary of Christina Aguilera

Gavin DeGraw - Chariot 20

James Bay - Changes All the Time

Sabrina Carpenter - Short n' Sweet

Teddy Swims - I've Tried Everything but Therapy (Part 1.5)

Tori Kelly - TORI.

HOUSE/ELECTRONIC

Durand Bernarr & Charlie Vettuno - Charlie Vettuno Presents… Where in the World is Carmen Randiego?

KAYTRANADA - TIMELESS

HOLIDAY

Boney James - Soulful Holiday Sax

Ella Fitzgerald & Louis Armstrong - Ella & Louis Wish You a Swinging Holiday

Jennifer Hudson - The Gift of Love

Kelly Clarkson - When Christmas Comes Around...Again

[jerzwriter]

Thank you to @snoopdogcone for this prompt for @choicesprompts Angstvember event! I hope you enjoy it!

Book: Open Heart (Book 2 timeline) Pairing: Tobias Carrick x Casey MacTavish (F!MC) Rating: Teen Words: 1,406 Summary: Tobias Carrick didn't do relationships. Not until he met Casey, but the closest he ever came in the past was Monica. He hadn't seen her for years, but they decided to catch up when she was in Boston for a visit. Will old sparks reignite, or has Tobias really changed?

A/N: Participating in @choicesmonthlychallengenov2024 Prompts: commitment, memories

It was just a drink.

Tobias repeated that to himself over and over as he headed to Yvonne’s. Nothing more than that. He hadn't been known for having serious relationships in the past, but if one person had come close to sharing that with him, it was Monica. He hadn't heard from her in years, and when she reached out to let him know she was in Boston, he didn’t think anything about meeting up. She was once an important part of his life, after all, and he was curious to see how she was doing. He was happy now, happier than he ever could have imagined with Casey. His exes? Monica included... they were from chapters in his life that were permanently closed. So, there was wrong with a drink for “old time’s sake.” It was just a drink.

Yvonene's was an upscale bar known for its understated elegance and dim lighting, but tonight, the energy was vibrant, and Tobias and Monica did their part to add to the festive atmosphere. His eyes sparkled as they talked; Monica hadn’t changed a bit. Her melodic laughter filled the air, and her dark waves shimmered each time she tossed back her head. They reminisced about the old days, recalling friends Tobias hadn’t talked to in years, and she had him howling with stories about her capers in Chicago. He brought her up to date on his life as well, including his relationship with Casey. Monica was shocked but seemed to take the news in stride.

Everything was going well, and they stepped out into the crisp Boston night when they ran out of things to say. They shared a few last words as they waited for their cars to arrive. That’s when things took a turn. Monica turned to him, her gaze locking on the crystal blue eyes that once knew her so well. Tobias felt the shift at once.

“What’s up, Monica?” he asked, not waiting to address it.

Her smile turned tantalizing as she reached out, fingers tracing down the cool wool of his jacket. “It’s been such a lovely night,” she murmured. “But I don't want it to end. Why don't we go back to your place, maybe recreate some good times, you know... for memory’s sake.”

Tobias took her hand and gently eased it away. “Monica,” he started. “I’m flattered, but I told you. I’m with Casey now.”

His voice was sincere, but Monica wasn’t moved. “Tobias, please,” she smirked. “I think it’s great that you and Casey have... a thing... and I’m not asking you to propose, but let's be real... we both know you are not a one woman man, so...” her well-manicured fingers ran down his lapel, eyes shining. "This can stay between us, Tobias... no one else has to know.”

“I’d know,” he responded, removing her hands more forcefully this time. “Look, Monica, the man you once knew and the man I am today are two very different people. I love Casey; she's the only one I want. I’m committed to her and would never betray her.”

Monica’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve got to be kidding me, Tobias?”

“Not even a little,” he replied resolutely.

“Well, that’s a shame,” Monica sighed. “It’s a good bet that won’t last for long. I’d tell you to look me up once you’re bored, but I might not be available then, Carrick.”

Tobias exhaled, his patience wearing thin. “You know, it was a lovely evening, Monica. Was,” he seethed, holding his gaze a moment longer. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay.” With that, he turned on his heel and walked away.

He shook his head as he entered his car, wanting nothing more than to be with Casey, but she was working an overnight shift. He called, but it went straight to voicemail. “Hey, baby,” he began. “Just wanted to tell you that I love you, and I miss you. I’m wiped out, so I’ll probably pass out when I get home. If you call and don’t reach me, that’s why. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

~~~~~

It was almost noon when Tobias began to stir. He smiled as he stretched in the bright sun shining through his bedroom windows. Sleeping late was a luxury rarely afforded to him, so he was refreshed and ready to welcome the day. He decided to check his messages before stepping into the shower, and that’s where things began to fall apart.

He was disappointed to see there were no messages from Casey. However, there was one from Monica:

“Hey T, I thought I’d let you know that I filled Casey in on all the details. You really should have mentioned them to her before spending the night with me. Not that I minded, of course. It really was great seeing you again, T."

Tobias could feel his temples beginning to throb. Spent the night with her? Was she delusional? Sure, they had drinks together, but that lasted about an hour, and he went home alone. But if Monica had led Casey to believe something more happened, then she was going to have to answer to him.

Casey didn't answer his call, so he sent a quick text saying they needed to talk. But that wasn't good enough. He grabbed his jacket from the closet and rushed over to Casey’s. She was sitting on her front steps when he arrived, wrapped in a fluffy fleece blanket. She was composed despite her tense jaw and a flash of anger in her eyes. Tobias didn't know what to expect.

“Casey—” he started, his voice almost desperate.

“So, it appears you're aware that Monica contacted me,” she said with just a hint of sarcasm.

“Baby, I don’t know what she told you,” he pleaded. “But I swear to God, nothing happened between me and Monica. We had drinks at Yvonne’s, just like I told you. We caught up a bit, and then I went home... alone. You have to believe me.”

His heart raced when Casey didn’t immediately respond. “Look, we can go to my place right now. I’ll show you the footage from the security cameras. I went home right after I left you a voicemail...and there was no one with me.”

“Tobias,” Casey sighed, motioning for him to sit next to her. He wrapped his arms around her, and she covered them both with her blanket.

“Do you believe me?” he whispered.

“Of course I do. But this whole thing is still upsetting. Why... why would Monica do this?”

“I don’t know,” he said, running a hand down his face. “Last night was going fine... we were just catching up. Then, we were waiting for our rides to arrive, and she asked to come home with me. I shot it down right away. I was honest with her. I told her about you; there was no way I was going to...”

“Shh, shh, shh,” Casey said, raising a finger to his lips. “It’s OK, babe. So, you spurned her, and she was pissed, so she decided to create some drama for you.”

“Yeah, well, she’s going to get a piece of my mind! She can be pissed all she wants, but the minute she tried to hurt you... all bets are off!”

“You know what, Tobias, the best thing we can do is ignore her and just... be happy. She wants to upset us. I say we don’t give her the satisfaction.”

Tobias's thumb caressed Casey's cheek as he gazed deeply into her eyes. “You’re incredible, do you know that?”

“Of course I do,” she smirked. “It takes a pretty incredible woman to put up with your bevy of exes.”

“A bevy may be a bit of an exaggeration,” he smiled.  

“OK, a horde, then?”

Tobias chuckled as he took her under his arm. “I’m so glad you didn’t believe her.”

“I know who you are, Tobias, and... I trust you.”

"Good, because I promise you, Casey. You have nothing to worry about with me."

Tobias’s shoulders relaxed as the tension began leaving his body. He promised Casey once more that nothing and no one could ever come between them. She found amusement in the situation, teasing him that her exes were far less problematic than his. With that, they headed inside and warmed up with a pot of hot chocolate. Tobias was quite confident he'd enjoy this night much more than the one before.

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Tagging others separately.