#every last one of those grammy freaks
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Visit Tumblr Blog
Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.
Last Seen Tumblr Blogs
Fun Fact
If you dial 1-866-584-6757, you can leave an audio post for your followers.
Text
janelle monae i will kill those academy people for u
#this is not star trek related at all but I'm feeling murderous#they were ROBBED#Midnights is good but listen to Age of Pleasure and tell me which one is more interesting/better#like what the hell is midnights doing that we haven't seen before#Age of Pleasure on the other hand???#janelle monae i would murder for you i hope you know that#saw janelle in concert during september and it was a religious experience nearly passed out ngl#god they're perfect#i'll kill for you janelle#every last one of those grammy freaks
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
Harry Styles x Model!Reader | 2
faceclaim: Lily Collins
author’s note: part 2 of my model!reader smau :3 joepark, camilleinlondon, and antoinemoreau are reader’s best friends! We’re gonna cover Harry’s NYC shows, but particularly his 15th show, because I’m so proud of our hard-working man 🥺 This one is long, I guess? Plus, there will be a part 3 with the wedding because I’m a sucker for those.
;
voguearabia For our sixth-anniversary issue, we are celebrating with model YN LN as our issue’s cover face.
We talked about the struggling start of her career and how she achieved being noticed by the most established and esteemed fashion houses in the world, highlighting the beginning of her rising fame and popularity, especially amongst a young generation who never had a connection to the old names of the fashion industry. Of course, we also asked about the announced engagement to singer-songwriter and Grammy winner Harry Styles—especially for you, dear Harries.
Model: yourinstagram
Stylist: harry_lambert
Photographer: helenepambrun.photography
Interviewer: noelleflamingo
Liked by harrystyles, annetwist, joepark, gemmastyles and 997,320 others | 441,327 comments
voguearabia “I started my modeling career without any support system—my last blood-related family member died while I graduated from the Paris College of Art, and suddenly, I had been even more alone than I’d already been before. Imagine a young woman with a degree in photography in the midst of Paris, the center of art. […] It was crazy to even think about the possibility I could make it, but it never stopped me from trying. Though I have to admit, I seriously doubted my own sanity from time to time. […] Everything morphed from small photography jobs for aspiring designers, freshly graduated from the same school as I have; we relied on one another because we all knew that no one would make it out there without a team. And one day, a model couldn’t make it in time, and both—the designer and photographer—turned to me, and I didn’t realize their looks because… well, I had made them coffee because I was the photographer’s freaking assistant. […] On this day, I stood in front of the camera for the first time. It was a moment of clarity—and dreadful fear because I knew what hard work I had to invest in everything—again—to make it maybe. But… I jumped into the water without thinking. […]”
liked by harrystyles, jefezoff, joepark, and 5,761 others
hsfan1 I picture this moment vividly: “Can you write something for his fans?”-“And what exactly?”-“I don’t know, something about our engagement maybe. And then you address them directly.”-“This is… brilliant!”
↳ yourfan1 And the money will flow 😅
↳ hsfan1 That is very true. I couldn’t get a hold of one of the magazines bc everything was sold out in my area 😂
hsfan2 And the first person who liked this was, of course, Harry!
↳ hsfan3 He is a very proud fiancé ❤️
joepark What a goddess!
liked by voguearabia, yourinstagram and 1,320 others
annetwist ❤️
↳ gemmastyles ❤️ indeed!
yourinstagram It was such an honor to be your anniversary cover face! As usual: It was a blast working with everyone. It’s always like talking to a friend over a cup of coffee noelleflamingo helenepambrun.photography
↳ helenepambrun.photography I was so happy to see you again! Thanks for making this job as fun as always ❤️
liked by harrystyles, yourinstagram and 121 others
↳ hsfan4 Wait, isn’t she Harry’s photographer???
↳ yourfan2 She is! But they already knew each other before YN even started dating Harry :3
liked by hsfan4, yourinstagram and 79 others
↳ voguearabia We can’t thank you enough, YN!
liked by yourinstagram and 542 others
yn_harry_shipper She is wearing her engagement ring in every single picture 😮💨❤️
harrystyles She.
[yourinstagram]
Liked by joepark, mitchrowland, harry_lambert, annetwist and 782,669 others | 333,724 comments
harry_lambert Another word: Goddess.
↳ hsfan1 I lowkey love what simps these two are for YN ❤️
↳ yourinstagram You need to stop. Both.
liked by harrystyles, harry_lambert, yourfan3 and 222 others
joepark Was this post approved by your supervisor? 👀
↳ jefezoff If not, this post wouldn’t be here 👀
↳ yourinstagram I’m quickly reminding you of that incident two years ago. Do you want to reconsider your statement from above?
liked by joepark, hsfan1, hsfan2, and 324 others
↳ harrystyles I can read this, you know that? You are my fiancée. You should stand on my side x And Joe? Your invitation got withdrawn.
↳ yourinstagram I’m always on your side, mon amour. But sometimes, I have to tease you about certain aspects of your wonderful character and lovely habits ❤️ Joe: It is not.
↳ harrystyles No, it is not x
liked by yourinstagram, joepark, modelfriends4ever and 547 others
↳ hsfan2 Popcorn, anyone? xD
↳ hsfan3 I love how they are together. I love how Harry becomes a bit more open over here🥹
hsfan4 NONWORKRELATED POST AAAAAAAHH
yourfan1 What a sight 😮💨
mitchrowland What a simp 👀❤️
liked by pillowpersonpp, yourfan1, hsfan6 and 88 others
↳ annetwist Not a surprise at all 😍
yourfan2 please adopt me thank you
camilleinlondon I’m not sure what she is trying to do. Either packing or getting packed herself.
Joe already lost it in the back. Antoine isn’t impressed in the slightest and keeps editing his pictures on his phone. And me? I have to keep an eye on the clock, so this crazy chica gets to the airport ON TIME.
Liked by yourinstagram, antoinemoreau, yourfan1, modelfriends4ever, and 101,891 others | 39,882 comments
yourinstagram Thank you for being the responsible adult in this group when my brain can’t do it 👉🏻👈🏻
↳ joepark I love that you two always switch, so I don’t have to do this job lol
↳ camilleinlondon Someone has to do it when half of the group consists of grownup children 👀
↳ antoinemoreau Ouch.
joepark I love how you took the photo when I practically shouted at Antoine to move his lazy af butt and help us 😂
↳ camilleinlondon Call me a✨professional photographer✨
hsfan1 She is going to NYC, I just KNOW it 🥰
↳ hsfan2 Love myself a supportive fiancée ❤️
mitchrowland Our biggest groupie returns! ❤️
modelfriends4ever this group is everything to me.
↳ yourfan1 same bestie, same 😅
yourfan2 Her outfit is ✨chefskiss✨ - as usual 👸🏽
yourinstagram ps: we made it to the airport on time.
liked by yourfan2, hsfan1, hsfan3, harrystyles, and 399 others
↳ pillowpersonpp I’m very glad you made it on time. I couldn’t handle another day of his constant sighing 👀
liked by hsfan8, hsfan5, yourfan3, and 78 others
↳ harrystyles HEY
↳ yourinstagram I miss you too, my love ❤️
yourinstagram Quick airport selfie because I was obsessed with this wallpaper in one of the cafés here. Oh, and to show off my ring again, sorry 👉🏻👈🏻
Liked by gemmastyles, harrystyles, annetwist, ynfanpage, and 986,582 others | 224,510 comments
yourinstagram I think we need that wallpaper somewhere in the new house harrystyles
↳ harrystyles Maybe the basement? No, I’m just kidding. It’s a pretty wallpaper.
↳ yourinstagram Sir, you’re not being very funny right now 🫢
↳ harrystyles I know 🫣 I love you, though. Does this count for anything?
liked by hsfan1, hsfan2, harrystylesforever, and 101 others
↳ yourinstagram It does 🥰
↳ hsfan1 First of all: their relationship is EVERY-FREAKING-THING. Second: could we talk about the ��new house” drop???
liked by hsfan3, harrystylesfanpage, ynfanpage, and 86 others
gemmastyles My sister-in-law is being pretty ❤️
↳ yourinstagram Says the one pretty enough to be Miss UK 😘❤️
↳ yourfan1 I. Love. These. Two. I’m so jealous of Gemma. Or YN. No, both.
ynfanpage THE PRETTIEST
liked by yourinstagram, ynforever, modelfriends4ever, and 55 others
harrystyles Have a safe flight, my love x
liked by hsfan4, hsfan5, yn_and_harry, and 979 others
↳ yourinstagram ❤️❤️❤️
↳ yn_and_harry Your honor, I live for these two. ADOPT ME
yourinstagram Look who I’ve found on my way out of the airport <3
[gemmastyles]
Liked by harrystyles, annetwist, yourfan1, hsfan2, and 202,779 others | 10,328 comments
annetwist My two darlings ❤️
↳ gemmastyles If you wouldn’t have to work, you could’ve been here too! With us!
↳ annetwist I’m joining you soon enough, love ❤️
harrystyles And why was I not invited? 😦
↳ yourinstagram You said you needed to rehearse 😚 But I could bring you something to eat?
↳ harrystyles Is that the place we went to in 2020?
↳ yourinstagram Yup!
↳ harrystyles Gonna text you the order, love, yeah? The band needs a break x
liked by yourinstagram, mitchrowland, hsfan3, and 69 others
mitchrowland Thanks YN!!!
↳ yourinstagram Happy to help out ❤️
↳ pillowpersonpp Harry bragged about this place for far too long, so we need some of those deliciously looking beauties—and the food 👀
liked by mitchrowland, harrystyles, gemmastyles, and 13 others
↳ hsfan1 😂😂😂 Sarah! 😂
yourfan1 I want to be there 🥺
yourfan2 I… I think I’m sitting on the other side of the place 😳
↳ yourfan3 ???????? TELL HER HI!
↳ hsfan2 JEALOUS
↳ yourfan4 I’m not jealous, no. Don’t know what’ya talking about.
joepark GIVE HER A KISS AND A HUG ❤️
CelebrityNews Singer-songwriter Harry Styles and his fiancée and model YN LN were seen today in Manhattan on their way to their current New Yorker home before heading out again for Styles’ 15th show at Madison Square Garden. Rumors became loud that the couple bought a historic brownstone in Cobble Hill, Brooklyn, to make it their secondary residence beside their primary residence—the 4,500,000£ townhouse at the Royal Crescent in Bath, Somerset, UK.
Liked by hsfan1, hsfan2, yourfan1, harrystylesfanpage, and 2,341 likes | 976 comments
hsfan1 Brooklyn, especially CH, is one of the best neighborhoods for families. They have so many great public schools 🥺👉🏻👈🏻
↳ hsfan2 And it’s where YN grew up 🥺
↳ yourfan1 I think they prepare everything for their future 😭❤️
liked by harryfanpage, hsfan3, hsfan7, and 67 others
yourfan2 They both are SO successful. But it’s what they deserve, and I can’t wait for their future life ❤️
harrystylesfanpage They would live in my neighborhood 😳
↳ yn_and_harry 😨😱
yourfan3 I’m seriously so glad that YN found Harry. He really makes her shine and smile and so, so, so happy 😭 After all she went through with the early loss of almost her entire family, it’s what she earned after the universe had thrown so much in front of her feet 🥹
rosesarered On my way to MSG after checking out how the first day of the renovations went. I’m still so in love with our new baby 🥹
Liked by pillowpersonpp, joepark, camilleinlondon, and 14 others
joepark You should start a photo diary!
↳ annetwist I told her the same 😊
↳ yourinstagram I actually did take a lot of pictures when we first visited, and today too—to show them to Harry 😚
camilleinlondon You look gorgeous ❤️
pillowpersonpp Can’t wait to have you back in the crowd!!!
harrysworld My wonderful, gorgeous woman ❤️
↳ rosesarered H 🥹❤️
↳ harrysworld I’m waiting for you (and the photos) ❤️
yourinstagram Entirely in awe of what he is achieving tonight… ❤️
Have fun at his 15th consecutive show at the Garden, people!
Liked by jefezoff, joepark, yourfan1, harrystylesforever, and 2,376,516 others | 460,131 comments
harrystylesforever She is such a simp for him 😌
harrystylesfanpage Can’t wait to be there!!
joepark This will be the best night for sure 🤩
↳ yourinstagram We'll meet at the backstage entrance, oui?
↳ joepark Sure thing, mon amour!
↳ yourfan1 Awww, Joe is with her tonight
jefezoff 🥳🥳🥳
camilleinlondon Get an autograph for me 👀
↳ antoinemoreau You know him. You’re friends. What is wrong with you, woman? 😂❤️
↳ camilleinlondon You can never have enough Harry autographs is my philosophy 🤨
liked by hsfan1, hsfan2, harrystylesforever, and 25 others
mitchrowland He is rambling about how much he hopes to show you the best time of your life. What a simp. 🤭
liked by harrystylesfanpage, ynfanpage, yourfan3, and 87 others
↳ hsfan1 Awwwwwwwww 🥹
↳ hsfan2 Harry is nothing but whipped for this woman.
↳ pillowpersonpp I could now write something inappropriate, but I gonna keep this minor safe.
↳ yourfan1 We all know what Sarah wants to say 😏
ynfanpage Uhm… Is it okay if I say Hi for just a second? 👉🏻👈🏻
liked by yourinstagram, joepark, and 12 others
↳ yourinstagram Of course, lovely! Just come over if you see me ❤️
liked by ynfanpage, yourfan3, hsfan1, and 90 others
↳ yourfan2 Heaven on earth. Kinda jealous tho 🥺
yourinstagram 😭❤️
I SAW IT FIRST YOU CANNOT TELL ME OTHERWISE.
HARRY I LOOOOVE YOUUUU AND I’M SO FREAKING PROUD OF YOU
Liked by annetwist, yourfan1, yourfan2, hsfan1, hsfan2, and 306,447 others | 99,991 comments
hsfan1 Someone got very excited for their man 😂
hsfan2 I love YN for her undying support ❤️
yourinstagram Sorry, Instagram people. I got carried away.
↳ yourfan1 That's okay, lovie ❤️
↳ hsfan3 We love you for that!
↳ joepark “Carried away” aka my eardrums are irreversibly damaged
liked by hsfan5, yourfan6, modelfriends4ever, and 127 others
annetwist I feel what you are feeling ❤️
antoinemoreau Oooooh. This is today?? I thought he had a few more shows before that. Congrats, mate! harrystyles
hsfan4 !!!!!!!!!
harrystyles Love On Tour. New York XV. September, 2022.
Thank you MSG. Thank you NYC. Thank you my darling love.
Liked by gemmastyles, annetwist, jefezoff, yourinstagram, and 2,320,878 others | 431,685 comments
hsfan1 His thanks to YN 🥺
hsfan2 CONGRATS HARRY
jefezoff Congratulations!
annetwist I’m so proud of you, my sweet boy ❤️
↳ gemmastyles ME TOO!!!
hsfan3 Congratulations on 15 nights! Maybe you should check on your fiancée—she kinda lost it over it 🥹❤️
liked by joepark, hsfan8, yourfan2, and 10 others
hsfan4 I’m so proud of you!!
harrystylesfanpage Proud prouder being a harry fan right now
hsfan5 You really lucked out in life ❤️
joepark Congrats, Harry! I just sent your wife on her way 👀
↳ hsfan6 Everyone ships these two hard 🥰
;
A grin formed on his face after he had stepped out of his dressing room and saw YN in the distance, her back surrounded by three bodyguards, the backstage pass dangling around her neck. She grinned as well as soon as she spotted him, and her feet started to carry her faster over to him—until she ran down the hallway and flew into his arms. Harry had already awaited her, arms widely opened, knees slightly bent, and now wrapped one arm around her back while the other steadied her butt as she wrapped both legs around his waist.
“Hey, love,” he whispered into her cheek and pressed several kisses to the soft skin. “I’m so, so, so proud of you,” Harry could hear her whisper into his neck, feeling her arms hugging his neck and shoulders closer. “Thank you, love.”
He felt his heart flutter and tears of pure joy forming in his eyes. He knew that this would’ve never been possible without her by his side, without her constant support and love, and the way she always built him up again if something didn’t work out. She gave him the strength to do this, to try new things, even though they might could turn into the worst nightmare. She had helped him build his career further and further because she always had his back—during every late homecoming because he needed to finish that one recording in the studio, during every breakdown because he got overwhelmed, during every press or paparazzi storm he had to stand through.
YN had always been there for him, loving expression on her beautiful face and open arms in which he could sink and hide if he needed to. She had been his everything from the first moment on, and now, they shared this too—just like they would share a lot more that was coming their way.
“Pretty girl,” he whispered to coax her face from his neck, and the singer smiled his bright smile as she finally leaned their foreheads together, legs still tightly wrapped around him. “There she is.” YN smiled at his words, and without loosing another second, she dove right into the long-awaited kiss—relished in the feeling of his soft, perfect lips on hers, of his strong, large hand wandering from her back to the back of her head to hold her in place, and in the familiar but nonetheless still exciting taste of his kisses.
The couple parted with labored breaths but leaned their foreheads together again. YN gently let the tip of her nose run along his nose and peppered his handsome face with kisses. “You were great—as usual,” she grinned after they had opened their eyes and Harry had let her stand on the ground again. “Glad you enjoyed it. What about the outfit?” He wiggled his brows, and YN giggled before pulling his face back down to her. “I will show you how much I adored said outfit when we get home,” she mumbled against his lips in a teasing tone, letting a low growl rumble out of his chest and laughing softly into their next kiss. “Can’t wait for that show.” His voice was as deep as it could get, and a delicious chill ran down her spine.
Jeff cleared his throat behind Harry’s back, and YN chuckled again before letting her fiancé go. “Ready to take those pictures, handsome?” She asked, and Harry laced their fingers together and raised her intertwined hands to his lips to kiss it. “With you? Always.”
harrystyles I am beyond grateful for this milestone in my career. And it’s only possible because I have people who always support, love, and cherish me. Starting with my fans and family and ending with my gorgeous fiancée, who is always there and keeps my compass on track.
Thank you from the bottom of my heart x H.
Liked by gemmastyles, camilleinlondon, hsfan1, mitchrowland, and 2,313,426 others | 348,924 comments
annetwist We are so proud of you, Harry 🥰
gemmastyles ❤️❤️❤️
hsfan1 SO PROUD OF YOUR ACHIEVEMENT
hsfan2 That’s our man 🥳
camilleinlondon You even got a banner 😦
↳ joepark Of course he got one???
yourinstagram It’s an honor and pleasure to be part of your life, my love. Thank you for letting me love and support you ❤️
liked by harrystyles, annetwist, yourfan1, and 327 others
↳ ynfanpage awwwww 🥺
↳ harrystylesfanpage awwwwww +1 🥺
↳ harrystyles ❤️
pillowpersonpp My main purpose in life is watching and reading how Harry gushes over his woman.
↳ mitchrowland And what’s with our son? Or me??
↳ pillowpersonpp You’re also a part of that 👀
↳ mitchrowland 😦😦😦
↳ hsfan3 gotta love these group 😂
yourfan1 We are all so proud of you!
yourinstagram I made him laugh. It’s still, even after years with him by my side, the best thing I have ever accomplished and probably will ever accomplish. Je t’aime plus que tout, H (I love you more than anything).
ps: He demanded to take the banner home and take a quick nap under it.
[harrystyles]
Liked by annetwist, harry_and_yn, hsfan1, and 958,537 others | 119,772 comments
yourinstagram + I’m so proud of you. I can’t say this often enough. You have to live with this now.
liked by harrystyles, gemmastyles, and 200 others
↳ harrystyles I’m already used to you praising me to the heavens, darling x
↳ yourinstagram Good. It’s what you deserve ❤️
↳ yn_and_harry Screaming Crying Lying on the floor. I can’t with these two 😭❤️
annetwist And even after years, I’m still very thankful and grateful that you make my boy the happiest he has ever been ❤️
↳ yourinstagram Thank you, Anne 🥹 I love you all with my entire heart ❤️
↳ gemmastyles And we you, sweets 🥰
liked by harrystyles, hsfan2, yourfan3, yourinstagram, and 137 others
yourfan1 Still can’t comprehend how her life changed after she met Harry
↳ yourfan2 Me too. But she deserves nothing less.
harry_and_YN Thank you for making him happy, YN 👉🏻👈🏻
harrystyles It was a great blanket!
↳ harrystyles And I love you more, darling x
↳ yourinstagram I think that’s not possible, love 🤷🏽♀️
↳ harrystyles I think it is, my muse ❤️
liked by yourinstagram, hsfan3, hsfan7, yourfan2, and 1,879 others
harrysworld Got her to bed safely after she demanded she wasn’t tired while we watched a movie.
Gosh, YN… I love you so fucking much. Thank you for making me the happiest man gracing this freaking planet.
Liked by mitchrowland, joepark, jefezoff, and 13 others | 8 comments
mitchrowland I’m so happy for you, man. Can’t wait for you to spend the rest of your lives together.
jefezoff To use YN’s words: It’s what you deserve, Harry.
joepark Sleepy angel. Thanks for treating her the way you do. If not, I would’ve eliminated you a long time ago 🗡️
↳ pillowpersonpp And I would’ve been your alibi
↳ harrysworld Thank you…? 🫣
gemmastyles Will you guys drive to the house tomorrow before you head to Austin?
↳ harrysworld Yeah. We have an appointment with our construction manager at eleven. Wanna tag along?
↳ gemmastyles That’s the reason why I ask 👀 Mom wants to come as well!
↳ harrysworld Sure. Lunch after that?
↳ joepark Oui 👌🏻
rosesarered Thank you for making me the happiest woman on this planet 👉🏻👈🏻
;
Hui, this one got even longer than already planned. Ooopsiiii. Hope y’all enjoyed it tho <3 As usual: comments, reblogs, and likes are much appreciated!
taglist: @onecrazydirectioner @nyctophilic0vitnir @grapejuice-rry
#harry styles x reader#harry styles x female reader#harry styles x fem!reader#harry styles x model!reader#harry styles fluff#harry styles imagine#harry styles oneshot#harry styles social media#harry styles fake social media#harry styles fake instagram#harry styles fake ig#harry styles social media au#harry styles au#harry styles smau#harry styles#harry styles one shot#harry styles instagram au#smau#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fic#harry styles fanfiction
386 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hello, there! Before I get to my ask, I just wanted to quickly mention that I love your blog and I hope you’re having a great day…now, I’m freaking out because it’s all happening! The tannies are on their way to Las Vegas (sans Hobi, for now, but I’m sure he’ll get there soon!). That means Jimin’s OST is coming REALLY soon and maybe new music? Their comeback might also be looming, perhaps? Anyway…What do you think about JK leaving a few hours before the rest of the members? This might be no more than what was said to the media - that he’s gotta prep some stuff for the grammy’s - but if it’s not then what are we thinking? A solo? Mixtape-related work? A collaboration? Or maybe a health precaution given that he’s the only member who hasn’t had covid (and I hope he stays that way🤞☘️) and he’s really only gonna be in the US for a few hours more than the rest of the boys (apart from hobi…I really hope he’s feeling well and that he’ll be able to joint them soon💕). Any thoughts? Okay, bye, and thank you👋😊
Hey there. Thanks for the kind words.💜
So we had BTS minus 2 flying out to the US.
One, JK, flying up ahead of the others (we are talking about hours in advance, not likely more than that, although we don't know for sure), and the other (poor Hobi) awaiting a health clearance to be able to fly out to join the others.
Funny thing how no one knew JK was leaving, how the media were notified about the band leaving (exact timetable), and only a couple of hours prior to them showing up at the airport the media were told that JK already left "earlier" (that was the term used, so we don't know exactly when).
The big mystery is why did JK fly out ahead. And aren't we all scrambling around on that one, lol.
I've heard the health theory, him flying out ahead being the last one not to catch covid, but thing is, wouldn't they have sent him to the US days ahead? I am kind of assuming that "earlier" isn't actually "last week".
Anything else other than that is fair game. Could be something related to the Grammy's. Could be something to do with a collab (Grammy or other). Could be something to do with his mix tape.
But let's think a second. Out of the lot of those theories, which one would be the logical one given we are talking about only slightly earlier than the others (I'm running on an assumption that "earlier" doesn't mean days ahead)?
Let's also take into consideration that the formal explanation is:
"It is known that he boarded the plane early with some of the staff because there was something to check first to prepare for the awards ceremony."
I'd say that the safest bet would be that it does have something to do with the Grammy's performance. Could there be a collab performance style the Charlie Puth one in MAMA? If so, who with?
In any case every single theory is pure speculation with zero information, so I guess we will all have to wait patiently and maybe see what it's all about.
38 notes
·
View notes
Photo
pieces - chapter one
Five years ago, Chloe dropped off the face of the Earth. Beca sees her again in the most unexpected place.
rating: M (drug abuse, mention of sexual abuse in later chapters) word count: 2,100
ao3 link
*
“Any messages, Gina?”
Beca Mitchell strode out of the elevator, high heels clicking on marble flooring on her way to her office.
Her assistant rushed to walk alongside her, notebook opened as she handed Beca her second coffee of the day, which Beca took with an appreciative smile.
“Mr. Mendes needs to push back his meeting to Thursday, and Mr. Hozier-Byrne is waiting for a call back, preferably before 2 as he’s five hours ahead.”
Beca rounded the corner to her office and dragged her leather desk chair back, shrugging off her woolen trench coat and draping it over the back. “Got it, remind me what I have planned today?”
“You’re having lunch with Mr. Zimmer at the Plaza to discuss Jesse’s project, and apart from the weekly team meeting at five, you’re expected at Edgy Reggie’s party from 10 pm at the Sapphire.”
A groan surfaced from Beca’s throat and her eyes slammed shut as she plopped down on her chair. “I forgot about that. Luke can’t go?”
Gina winced and shook her head. “Family dinner.”
“Family dinner, my ass. His whole family lives back in fucking England,” Beca muttered before she could help it, throwing her assistant an apologetic smile. “Sorry. Thanks, Gina. Hold my calls until ten, please?”
“Of course, Ms. Mitchell.”
As she did every morning while sipping her coffee, Beca listened to demos over the next hour, forwarding them to Luke if any of those yet-unknown artists spiked her interest enough to sign them into their label.
The rest of the day consisted of two meetings, a dozen calls, countless email exchanges, and not enough studio time. A thick blanket of darkness had veiled the city by the time she closed her laptop and called it a day. She stretched her neck and took a moment to gaze at the lit skyscrapers through her floor to ceiling windows, sighing softly.
It was sometimes weird to think about how this was her life. How the asocial, grumpy freshman from thirteen years ago had made it to the top of the music business and now co-owned one of the biggest labels throughout the country.
Scratch that, throughout the world.
Snapping out of her daze, Beca stood and slipped on her coat, plucking her phone off the desk to call herself a Lyft home. She had just about time to take a shower and eat dinner before heading to that stupid party.
*
Beca could think of a million things she’d rather be doing right now as she strode down the wet sidewalk towards the lit GIRLS red neon sign in the distance a couple of hours later.
She told herself one drink, an hour tops, then she could head home, put on her pajamas, and finish that true-crime TV show she started yesterday.
“Name?” A dude bulkier than the freaking Rock asked her as she made it to the club door.
“Um, Beca Mitchell. I’m Edgy Reggie’s producer.”
Her artist had privatized a strip-club for his celebration party over his album hitting Platinum, and Beca couldn’t not show up, as... well, he was an important client and brought her label the big bucks.
The guy checked his clipboard and nodded, hitching his thumb over his shoulder. “You’re good to go.”
Casting the bouncer a nod, Beca ducked inside the dimmed, crowded club, wincing at the crappy music heavily pumping through the speakers. Three girls in bikinis and heels stood on platforms, twisting their bodies around dancing poles as dozens of dudes reclined back in leather sofas, shamelessly ogling their forms.
Beca’s nose crinkled as she scanned the room for her artist.
“Yo, Beca!”
Her gaze snapped to the left corner, catching sight of Edgy Reggie (he didn’t want to change his stage name, no matter how much Beca insisted) waving her over.
“Hey,” she cast him a tight-lipped smile, tucking her straight hair behind her ears. She nodded at the other dudes sitting around the low table. “What’s up.”
“Guys, this is the girl behind the magic of my album,” Edgy Reggie explained, throwing an arm over her shoulders before Beca could squirm away. “She is fire. ”
Beca chuckled awkwardly, then pointed over her shoulder. “I’m gonna go get myself a drink.”
Maybe two come to think of it, so she could get herself through this.
She headed to the bar and ordered an old-fashioned, fishing in the inside of her coat pocket for her credit card.
“Thanks,” she muttered when the barmaid (also clad in a bikini that left very little to the imagination) came back with her drink, handing her her card just as the club’s speaker made an announcement.
“Ladies and Gentleman, please welcome to the stage… Ariel! ”
The crowd cheered and hooted, Beca glancing over her shoulder to see what all the fuss was about.
There was no amount of alcohol that could have prepared her for the scene unfolding before her.
There, on the main stage, strutted in a redhead, only wearing a silver g-string and high heels. Beca would have recognized that shade of hair anywhere, and while the lighting in the club was low, there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that this girl -- Ariel -- was her former best friend.
Her former best friend who had dropped from the face of the Earth almost five years ago, without so much as an explanation. She hadn’t just stopped talking to Beca, but to all of them, even Aubrey. She was nowhere to be found on social media and when Beca had tried calling her after six months without news, she found out Chloe’s phone number had been disconnected. It wasn’t like they talked on a daily basis before that. After three years spent living on opposite sides of the country, the texts started coming further in between, their communication coming down to a few check-ins a year and on birthdays, until they eventually stopped.
Fearing the worst, Aubrey had called Chloe’s parents, who assured her she was fine, working as a vet in NYC and in a committed relationship. While relieved, the news stung Beca, as it was clear Chloe had deliberately ceased contact.
It took some time, but Beca eventually stopped thinking about her so much, especially when she started getting successful as a music producer and pouring her time and energy into her projects. She soon won her first Grammys, Gold, and Platinum records featured in notorious magazines and talk shows. She could stop working tomorrow and money wouldn’t become an issue, but Beca didn’t like to boast about her fortune, or fame, for that matter.
Despite being insanely busy, she still kept in touch with the other Bellas in their group chat, but she hadn’t seen any of them in a couple of years, missing the last reunion because of her job.
Beca’s mind steered back to the present, where the once most important person in her life was currently dancing for money. Men were staring hungrily at her as she sensually moved around the pole or bent over with her ass in the air to collect dollar bills from the floor, and Beca suddenly felt sick.
This couldn’t be her dream job, right? Something had to have happened for her to settle for this.
Beca grabbed her drink and knocked it back, flagging the barmaid down for another as her mind reeled as to what to do.
She needed to talk to Chloe. In private. Tonight, as soon as she finished… parading in front of these disgusting fuckboys. Only… she wasn’t sure Chloe wanted to talk to her.
“Hey,” she said when the barmaid came back as an idea struck. “How do I get a private lap dance with one of the girls?”
The girl raised a surprised eyebrow. “Backroom, hun. Who do you want?”
“Ariel.”
The platinum blonde let out a curt laugh. “Ariel doesn’t do lap dances, babe.”
Beca’s eyebrows knitted together in a heavy frown. “Why not?”
“Because she’s the boss’ favorite.”
Beca didn’t know what that meant exactly, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to find out as another wave of nausea swept over her insides. “Is your boss here tonight?”
The barmaid scanned the room quickly, nodding. “He’s the guy over there in the suit.”
“Thanks.” She took her drink and headed over to where the fifty-something dude was talking to another guy. Stepping up to them, she ignored their glares over her interrupting their conversation. “Hey. Are you the manager?”
The dude who looked like he ran a mafia mob turned a bit more towards her. “What’s this about?”
“How much for a private dance with Ariel?”
His gaze flickered over Beca’s shoulder towards the stage, then sized Beca up, unimpressed. “She’s not available, kid.”
Beca gritted her teeth at the condescending tone of his voice. “Not even for ten grand for twenty minutes?”
He slow-blinked, then burst out laughing. “Yeah, right.”
“I’m being serious. Ten grand, twenty minutes. Alone in a room, just the two of us.”
The man’s expression hardened. “And I said she’s not available .”
“Twenty grand.” Hell, she’d throw half a million on the table if that’s what was needed to talk to Chloe. After a beat, she added, “And no touching. That’s not what I’m here for.”
The manager seemed to consider her offer for a handful of seconds. “You got the money?”
Dammit. She couldn’t withdraw that much right now, she needed to call her bank. “Tomorrow night.”
He smirked, snickering. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”
He turned back to his buddy, leaving Beca grumbling under her breath as she turned around and stalked out of the club. She couldn’t stay. She couldn’t stand the sight of Chloe objectifying her body for money.
As soon as she got home, Beca fired up her computer and typed in Chloe’s name in her browser. Apart from old stuff on the Bellas, she found nothing relevant. Chloe appeared to still be MIA from any social media.
Beca grabbed her phone and scrolled through her contacts, bringing the device to her ear.
“What’s wrong?”
“How do you know something’s wrong?”
“We call each other twice a year on our respective birthdays and stick to the Bellas chat for the rest.”
Beca nibbled on her bottom lip. “I found Chloe.”
A long stretch of silence on the other end of the line followed. “What?”
“I saw her tonight, Aubrey.”
“Where??”
“At a strip club. She’s… a stripper.”
“What? Did you talk to her?”
“No. She was performing on stage. But I will. I’m… buying a lap dance from her tomorrow. I figured… she’ll have to listen to me since she’s being paid for it.” Her eyes slammed shut, scrunching up her nose. “I don’t know. It might be a bad idea, but-- I just wanna make sure she’s okay, you know?”
“Yes, of course. Keep me posted?”
“I will. Talk to you soon.”
Beca shuffled to bed after that, but sleep never came. Her mind kept reeling about Chloe, about what she might say to her once they were face to face, and the possibility that Chloe might shoot her down and refuse to talk to her.
She spent her Saturday trying and failing to make some progress on an ongoing project, willing time to tick faster so she could head back to the club. Mid-afternoon, she headed to the bank to withdraw twenty grand, tucking the envelope in her purse.
“Why does it feel like you’re doing something illegal, Beca?” She muttered to herself on her way out of the bank, slightly paranoid about carrying so much cash on her.
The club was just as crowded when she got there around 10 pm. A different girl danced on the main stage and the manager was nowhere in sight, so Beca perched herself on a stool at the bar, ordering herself another old-fashioned.
“Is your boss around?” She asked the barmaid, a different girl from last night.
“Who’s asking?”
“Tell him the person who wants Ariel is here.”
The girl’s eyebrows shot up at that but she didn’t say anything, nodding before strutting away. Beca sipped at her drink for the next twenty minutes, keeping her back to the stage.
The manager eventually appeared in her peripheral, and he leaned an elbow over the counter, lacing his fingers. “So what’s so special about Ariel?”
Beca slowly set her drink down and fished for the envelope, pushing it towards him while keeping her gaze straight ahead. “I like redheads.”
He plucked the envelope off the counter and peered inside. Twenty stacks of ten hundred dollar bills in exchange for twenty minutes with Chloe.
He nodded. “Follow me.”
Beca finished the rest of her drink, the alcohol managing to muffle her nerves some as she followed the manager towards the back of the club, and down a set of stairs. Her heart pumped hard in her ears and her palms started to sweat as she was led inside a dimly lit room with a handful of sofa chairs and a small stage with a dancing pole, some kind of music that seemed straight out of a porno carrying through the speakers. A spiral staircase was tucked in the right corner, and she guessed that is where the strippers made their entrance from.
Beca wondered how far things usually went in these kinds of private rooms.
She wondered how far Chloe went.
She cast the guy a tight-lipped smile and a nod before he closed the door, and paced the room for a little while, eventually lowering herself on one of the leather chairs and wiping her palms on her designer slacks.
The clicking of heels over metal made Beca’s spine snap straighter. She resisted the urge to look over her shoulder as the steps grew nearer, digging her nails into her thighs as a new round of nerves gripped her insides.
“Good evening, sweetheart,” the huskiness of Chloe’s voice made Beca swallow, and she felt a hand run over her shoulders as Chloe approached from behind.
Glancing up, Beca met familiar, ocean blues.
142 notes
·
View notes
Note
OC Name: Ian, Lauren, Q, Niner, and Ash.
Wow, this one's old! But answered at last.
Ian
Something really awesome he can do: His coworkers are certainly amazed by his ability to remain in Lauren’s presence when she’s in a temper, let alone how he can talk to her without getting murdered, or even -- sometimes -- calm her down.
A person, creature, or thing he adores: Squirrels. Growing up, he named all the ones he saw in his backyard, and would watch them for hours. He’d love to do the same now, but as an adult with bills he doesn’t have the time. He does have a bird feeder out in his yard specifically for the squirrels.
A secret he’s hiding: No secrets -- Ian wouldn’t be able to keep one if he had it.
Something he truly fears: Something bad happening to his parents.
A fond memory of his: The first time his parents drove to visit his mom’s parents on the Tennessee/Kentucky border. It’s a cozy memory of scenery passing in a blur, what seemed like a continuous stream of snacks and juice boxes, switching between CDs of his and his parents’ favorite music, and listening to his mom and dad tease and flirt with each other (subtle enough to fly over the head of a seven-year-old who still thought kissing was icky).
A place or item which gives him strong feelings: The sanctuary of the church where he grew up. It’s where he was baptized, and where he played guitar during some very moving services.
A dream or ambition for the future: Perform on live TV.
An angsty fact about him: He and Lauren had a falling out in their second year of college. I hesitate to say it was over Protestantism and Catholicism; it was, at least to some degree, but it was also about worldview, the nature of God, the role of tradition and conscience, and perhaps most of all it was about what we owe to people we disagree with. They’d argued about religion before, but it wasn’t until then that they actually understood enough to do more than rebut “Pastor Andrews says” with “Father Vernon says”, and for it to matter enough to them to blow up as much as it did. It took months for them to reconcile, partially because of stubbornness and uncertainty of how to fix things, but also because schoolwork and practice meant they didn’t have the time to figure it all out.
A domestic fact about him: Ian almost always keeps most, if not all, of his windows open. Even when it’s cold (for Tennessee) or raining. It can make things cold, and the smell isn’t always great, but he insists it’s too stuffy otherwise. Lauren is pretty sure it’s a psychosomatic thing.
A random other fact: He once had a dream where he was a dog, Lauren was a cat, and they escaped from their owners to travel the world together. It would’ve made a good movie.
Lauren
Something really awesome she can do: Play Chopin’s Fantaisie-Impromptu (Op. 66) completely from memory.
A person, creature, or thing she adores: Not sure if “adore” is quite the right word, but one of the most important people to Lauren, outside of Ian and her immediate family, is Father Vernon from her family’s parish. He’s known her family since before she was born, listened to their confessions, counseled her parents, baptized her and her siblings. Every weekend she drives the couple hours it takes to her hometown so she can attend Mass at Father Vernon’s church.
A secret she’s hiding: She’s written songs … about fictional characters. She even composed a suite of music for a pair of fictional characters’ wedding.
Something she truly fears: Permanent damage to her hands. Her music teacher once mentioned a friend of hers who couldn’t play the piano anymore after something heavy fell on his hands. If Lauren was the type of person to have nightmares based on things she heard, that certainly would have given her nightmares.
A fond memory of hers: Her grandparents would have a picnic sometime in June, every year. It wasn’t always enjoyable, between the long car drive there with all of her siblings jammed into a cramped place, and the potential for bugs, sunburn, and bad weather, but the park was beautiful, there were so many other kids around that there was always someone to play with even if everyone else had annoyed you, and when it got to be evening they would all gather around, play music, and sing.
A place or item which gives her strong feelings: Mrs. G’s music classroom at the elementary school. In addition to band during school weeks, it was also where Lauren had her piano lessons with Mrs. G on the weekends.
A dream or ambition for the future: She doesn’t think winning a Grammy award is out of the question someday.
An angsty fact about her: From first grade until she graduated college, she believed herself to be her parents’ least favorite child. Even now, it’s not so much that she doesn’t believe it as she doesn’t think it’s worth it to spend time and energy thinking about it.
A domestic fact about her: In order to have room for a keyboard in her apartment, she gave up on having a dining table, so she eats all over the place. She’s good about taking bowls and plates back to the kitchen, but there’s constantly cups and silverware lying around the living areas.
A random other fact: She hates her middle name. “Eleanor” sounds like an old lady name, not least because she’s named after one of her mother’s great-aunts, who is quite old, and has the kind of personality that suggests she was born gray-haired, wrinkled, and talking about “in the old days”.
Q
Something really awesome he can do: He is trained in the use of multiple types of swords. It was a quid pro quo with his aunt and uncle: Q spoke to his politically-connected buddy from boarding school and got the ball rolling on an exemption from some nasty tariffs, they arranged for sword fighting lessons for a year. He never participated in any tournaments or anything (too much publicity), but he can say without undue pride that he got to be pretty good.
A person, creature, or thing he adores: “Adore” doesn’t really describe how Q feels about anything.
A secret he’s hiding: He’s not exactly hiding it, but he isn’t open about precisely how rich and powerful his aunt and uncle are, or how many famous (or in the case of some of his cousin’s criminal friends, infamous) people he knows through them.
Something he truly fears: Just the idea of being buried alive freaks him out.
A fond memory of his: He’s got some good memories of some summer holidays during his time at boarding school. Occasionally Q got invited to tag along with someone, a friend of his cousin or a fellow classmate, on their vacation to some super rich resort in some beautiful, exotic location. He’d still hear from his aunt and uncle regularly, and he always had to be well-behaved, but it was less than when he was at school -- at his age, just hanging out with rich and influential people counted as “networking” to his aunt and uncle, so they’d call in to check on him regularly but otherwise left him alone, and in a less formal setting than school “well-behaved” was an easier standard to meet. While parts of those summers were genuinely enjoyable for him, years of living hand to mouth a hairsbreadth away from sleeping on a street corner has added a much rosier shine to those days sleeping in five-star hotels and eating haute cuisine.
A place or item which gives him strong feelings: The family pile. It was where his dad spent his summers, so spending his own summers there growing up was one of the few times he felt connected to his parents. He’s also spent a significant number of holidays and family parties there, so it’s also associated with the exacting standards of his aunt and uncle and the strain of Keeping Up Appearances.
A dream or ambition for the future: He likes to imagine his aunt and uncle getting taken down a peg (or two, if he's particularly angry with them; sometimes he dares indulge the thought of three), though he struggles to imagine a scenario where that happens without notable repercussions.
An angsty fact about him: Virtually all of his t-shirts are band t-shirts, including bands he doesn’t listen to, bands he’s never heard of, foreign bands, fictional bands, and bands with potentially offensive names or symbols (though he usually only wears those at home or when he can be pretty sure he can keep his jacket closed all day). During his time in LA, one of his roommates asked if he wore them because, as an orphan who grew up in boarding schools, it was the closest he got to feeling like he belonged to something. The precise wording was kinder than that, but it still kickstarted a realization that rocked Q’s world for a couple days.
A domestic fact about him: He’s kind of weird about household chores in general. Despite his best efforts not to be as dismissive as his aunt and uncle, he still grew up in an atmosphere of "The Help does that," and it led to a steep learning curve when he moved out after graduation. He’s on top of dishes now and has a good handle on laundry, but sweeping and vacuuming require active thought, he barely registers that mopping is an actual thing, and unless "swipe hand over surface then brush hand off on pants" counts, he has never dusted.
A random other fact: Thanks to growing up outside the occult community, Q is unaware of the various taboos and 'bad words' within the community, and more than once says something offensive. Fortunately, this never creates any real issues for him, as everyone he does it to or in front of is aware he's not doing it maliciously. In fact, to most of them it's more like a small child 'swearing' because they misunderstood or mispronounced something, or saying something offensive out of innocent ignorance. Q is not best pleased when he finds out: being unintentionally offensive is one thing, being unintentionally adorable is worse.
Niner
Something really awesome she can do: She’s very good at mental math -- basic arithmetic, conversion from metric to imperial or types of currency, multiplying large numbers. Most people are more impressed with this ability than Niner herself is: she’s never had to work at it, and for most of her life it hasn’t been terribly relevant.
A person, creature, or thing she adores: Niner has a lot of younger siblings. She adores them all. Around them, she will drop the pretense of caring about nothing, and show full enthusiasm for anything they like.
A secret she’s hiding: She hasn't told anyone about the abusive relationship in her past.
Something she truly fears: For werecats, the threat of getting caught by animal control and getting euthanized or ending up as somebody’s housecat is about as probable as your average person getting struck by lightning, but few werecats are completely immune to fearing it. Niner in particular finds it horrifying.
A fond memory of hers: Her last year hanging with her parents and immediate siblings was a pretty good one. Since their kids were all on the verge of striking out on their own, her parents allowed them more independence than they ever had before, but there was still the safety net and companionship of family. They also made a point of visiting some places that they’d talked about visiting for years but hadn’t gotten to. It was basically a year-long vacation, and made Niner more aware of her independent spirit.
A place or item which gives her strong feelings: An alley behind a bar in Atlanta, Georgia. It’s where her relationship with Marrow ended. It’s also where one of her recurring nightmares, on the rare occasions she has one, takes place.
A dream or ambition for the future: Werecats travel a lot, but they tend to remain in the same country, and after their roaming days as young adults, they tend to remain in the same geographic area. Niner’s roaming days might be over, but she wants to visit another country. It won’t be easy, considering that she lacks money, a birth certificate, and a general idea of what other countries there are out there, but Niner can be dedicated when she really wants something.
An angsty fact about her: Tied in with her desire for independence is a belief that she needs to rely solely on herself, that other people can’t be trusted or that asking them to bear even part of one of her problems is infringing on them.
A domestic fact about her: Niner’s favorite place to sleep is Q’s windowsill. It gets a good amount of sunlight, and the size is just perfect.
A random other fact: She once worked as a cashier. It was just for a single shift, she got paid under the table, and frankly she was terrible at it, but the hot dog stand guy was desperate, and Niner really needed the money.
Ash
Something really awesome he can do: Ash can make a vegetarian version of just about anything. He considers it a gift. To others in the household (particularly Connie) … it’s amazing, but not in a good way.
A person, creature, or thing he adores: A crocheted frog that ‘lives’ on a shelf in the kitchen. It was a gift to his great-aunt who owned the house before him. It’s not what most people would consider cute, it’s probably older than he is so it’s got some noticeable wear and tear to it, but to little bitty Ash it was a benevolent spirit watching over the kitchen, smiling kindly to everyone who entered, and never telling on the small boy sneaking cookies before dinner.
A secret he’s hiding: It’s not quite a secret, more a deeply personal family matter that Ash is aware of but doesn’t share with anyone. His aunt Lily isn’t technically his aunt. She’s a half-dryad who, because of complications tied to her conception and birth, is bound to a tree on his grandmother’s property and traveling too far from it is painful for her. Obviously this isn’t something they can share with normal people, but it’s a sensitive enough situation that no one outside of Ash, his mother, grandmother, and aunts knows the details.
Something they truly fear: Ash is a naturally patient person, but he is not inherently non-confrontational or easy-going. And he is not the kind of person to just stand by when something makes him angry. He’s not exactly scared of losing his temper and doing something he regrets, but he is concerned about someday ending up on a slippery slope and reaching a point where he wouldn’t regret it.
A fond memory of his: He and Danae took a lot of walks in the country when they were in high school, usually by themselves, but sometimes with one of his aunts or one of her siblings. One especially beautiful summer evening, they sat by a lake for a couple hours and talked about their dreams for the future -- not just what they were likely to do, but what they really wanted to do with their lives.
A place or item which gives him strong feelings: The abovementioned lake. He spent a lot of time there growing up, and there’s good and bad memories tied to it. Mostly good.
A dream or ambition for the future: He has a lot of plans for the house. He’s not sure yet whether he wants to try to turn it into a school for enchanting, or turn it back into a bed-and-breakfast type place for occult people. The former is more appealing to him personally, but the latter works better considering that there’s already a bunch of different occult types staying there.
An angsty fact about him: Ash is the least angsty person in the household, honestly. He’s very grateful for that.
A domestic fact about him: He hates dust. Dishes can stack up for a meal or two, laundry gets done mainly because otherwise he’d have no clothes, mopping only happens if the floor is sticky, the fridge is cleaned out on a schedule, but dusting happens every day.
A random other fact: He’s watched several YouTube videos trying to learn how to yodel. It’s gotten put on the back burner, now that there’s people in the house who could hear him no matter how tightly he shuts the door or how quietly he tries to do it, but he still hopes to learn how someday.
Thanks for asking!
17 notes
·
View notes
Text
Love Down the Line: Epilogue
The last thing Indie musician Emma Swan needs is a gigantic wrench thrown in the workings of her biggest tour to date weeks before its launch. When her backing guitarist that caused the problem says she has the perfect solution Emma is skeptical but left with little choice but to accept. Unfortunately she isn’t really prepared for said solution to be former Rock Star and leading man of Emma’s teenage fantasies, Killian Jones. With no other options and a month of performing across the country ahead of her Emma just hopes she doesn’t come to regret letting Killian onto her stage and into her life.
Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9, Ch 10, Ch 11, Ch 12, AO3
~*CS*~
Los Angeles, Three Years Later
“You know, the last time I was here they only gave me those itty bitty bottles of water.”
Killian laughed to himself but kept his eyes trained to his phone. He knew if he looked up the love of his life would be scowling at the unnecessarily large bottles of expensive water lined up along the counter of the green room they were waiting in. Emma Swan was prone to many wonderful things but graciously giving up on a grudge was not one of them.
“The last time you were here you hadn’t won five Grammys in one fell swoop. When I was doing the first interviews with Realm of Jewels we were lucky to get cups of tap water. We thought a slice of lemon was the height of luxury.”
“Yeah, well that was what? Three hundred years ago?” She teased, moving across the room to flop down beside him on the couch with a huff, “They should at least have a water cooler or something. Reusable bottles are the way of the future.”
“First you complain about the water they’re providing and now you’re complaining about the one their not? Can they do nothing to please you?”
He looked over at her with a raised brow and she gave him a smirk.
“They fired Walsh so that’s a step in the right direction.”
“Thank bloody fuck,” he growled, turning back to his phone with a scowl.
Emma had eventually told him the full extent of what had happened the day of her interview with Walsh Hoakley. Not only had the wanker reported gossip as though it were truth, which caused the brief falling out between him and Emma that had made them both miserable, but the berk had hit on her not ten minutes after. When she finally had told him, only a few days after they had reconciled, it had taken an hour for him to calm down and at least a week for her to convince him not to fight her battles for her. The news of Hoakley’s firing less than a year later had been celebrated with a sparkling cider toast.
“So-” Emma peered over his shoulder and he felt some of his tension melt away, “What’s got you paying more attention to your phone than the expensive goodies they’re trying to get on our good side with?”
With a snort he tilted his phone towards her, “Just going over the contract one last time.”
“We have a fancy lawyer for that don’t we?” She asked crossing her arms as she sat back, “And Ruby wouldn’t try to scam you. I mean, look what’s happened since she decided to become my manager instead of staying in my backing band.”
“Well, aside from those five Grammys I mentioned-”
“What?!” Emma’s brows shot up and her mouth dropped open in clearly feigned shock, “I won five Grammys? I had no idea!”
“Hush, love, you deserved them and I’m honored to brag on your behalf,” he chided though he gave her a wink, “Although, I don’t rightly think we can give Ruby the credit for that.”
She scoffed and burrowed further into the couch, “If she hadn’t forced me to let you audition then we wouldn’t have met. Then we wouldn’t have had our grand romance that in turn inspired In the Middlemist and I wouldn’t have won those Grammys.”
“I believe that we would have met eventually, love. If not through our careers then we would have certainly been invited to Ruby’s wedding where I would have been immediately smitten with the blonde in the crimson bridesmaid dress,” he said lowly, pleased to see her cheeks flush.
“And I probably would have freaked out even more meeting you for the first time there than at the studio. You know how much I like seeing you in a suit-” she said huskily, leaning up to press a soft kiss under his jaw. Then she sat back and smiled wide, “Even then Ruby would still be the reason we met. That’s why I dedicated it to her and not you.”
“Is that why? I thought it was because you were still upset with me over the tiny misunderstanding over your choice in vehicle.”
He gave her a knowing look and she glared right back at him. When he raised his brow in challenge she rolled her eyes at him.
“Fine, that was part of it,” she conceded, “But I did mention you in every acceptance speech.”
“Which was wonderful aside from the camera they kept shoving in my face to capture my every proud tear in HD,” he grumbled, remembering the repeated messages from Will that were just the GIF of him crying after Emma had said she loved him onstage holding her third award of the night. He blew out a breath, “As I was saying: aside from all that I will admit that your career has flourished under Ruby’s care. She has become quite the adversary of Regina, stealing her best clients away.”
“Regina’s over it now,” she dismissed with a wave of her hand, “Ever since you reintroduced her to Robin in a non-business setting and then moved to that corner office things have been great.”
Just as he was about to make a somewhat lewd comment as to exactly why both those things would put Regina in a good mood there was a knock on the door. It was opened a moment later by the intern that had initially led them there.
“They’re ready for you, if you’d like to follow me.”
He let Emma proceed him as he stowed his phone in his pocket. She was right, of course, Ruby wouldn’t dream of sneaking in last minute changes to the contract making her his new manager. If anything she would have been fine with a verbal agreement and the promise of making her the godmother of whatever child he and Emma might have. Unfortunately all of their fancy, and expensive, lawyers required things in writing and in triplicate.
The intern led them to a broadcasting studio that looked like every other one he’d ever been interviewed in. One glaring difference, however, was the radio host who squealed when she saw them and practically skipped towards them with open arms.
“Finally, you guys! I’ve been waiting all week for this!”
Emma laughed and accepted the hug easily, “Us too, Tink. Killian’s had it marked in all of our calendars the second Ruby booked it.”
Tink pulled back from Emma and gave him a wide smile, “I’d heard she finally got you to make it official. There’s no stopping her now.”
“As though there was a chance before,” he chuckled. “Lovely to see you again, TInk.”
“If you guys lived here I’d see you more,” she chided gently before stepping forward to wrap her arms around him, “Everyone’s still on for dinner tomorrow, right?”
“Of course, Will wouldn’t let us hear the end of it if we didn’t,” he scoffed, giving her a light squeeze before letting go.
“Great! I still can’t believe he ditched Emma to be in your band,” She said with a laugh, grinning broadly at Emma’s frown. Something over his shoulder caught her eye and she nodded before focusing back on them, “Alright, my producer’s about to throw a fit if we waste any more time. Go ahead and get settled while I do my thing.”
As he and Emma moved to the seats awaiting them Tink bounced over to her chair and donned her headphones. With a bit of awe and intimidation he watched Tink easily slip into performance mode, softening her accent and dialing up her enthusiasm as she introduced herself and the start of her broadcast block. She hadn’t been a DJ for long but he could clearly see she had found her calling. When she teased their interview she gave them an overexaggerated wink that had him stifling a laugh.
After two songs and a small promo of Enchanted’s other stations Tink gave them a thumbs up as her producer let them know that their mics were live.
“That was the latest from The Killers and I don’t know about you but I’m more than ready for their new album to be released. I’m Tink and this is Rock Alt, home to all the alternative rock hits here on Enchanted XM. Today is a very exciting day because in the studio with me, right this very moment, are two people that you should be very familiar with: five time Grammy winner and indie darling Emma Swan and two time Grammy winner and alt rock god Killian Jones. Once upon a time I toured with Emma as part of her backing band and on one of those more memorable tours Killian decided to join us. Welcome, welcome!”
“I can truthfully say we’re excited to be here,” Emma chimed in brightly, her grin wide and happy.
“Yes, thanks for having us, love,” Killian said warmly. “Though I feel it’s only right to mention that those two Grammys were won with Realm of Jewels.”
“Aw, it’s only a matter of time before they’ll be joined by plenty of others, especially with this new album-” Tink waggled her eyebrows and he had a feeling she wasn’t going to go easy on them just because she was their friend. “There’s no question that you two are more than just friendly collaborators, with a couple of writing credits on each other’s albums and a duet on Killian’s acoustic cover album of Realm of Jewels’ greatest hits. We’ve also seen the red carpet photos and Instagram glimpses of your romance.”
He looked over at Emma and received an eye roll in return. When they’d first truly started dating they’d kept it hidden from anyone that wasn’t close friends or family. They had both felt that they wanted to start their relationship without the hounding from the press and scrutiny from the gossip mongers. It wasn’t until nearly a year and a half later, when Emma had clearly been his date to American Music Awards, that they’d gone public. Even then they had both agreed that they’d keep their personal lives as private as possible and continued to do so. Including the fact that they’d been married for two years.
“But now you’ve released a surprise album as a duo,” Tink continued, “going by the name Charles & Leia, which also happens to be the title of the album. It’s amazing by the way and if any of you out there haven’t listened to it yet I suggest you do so, but only after this interview is over, of course. So, how did this come about and why Charles & Leia?”
Emma gave him a shrug and a nod and he leaned closer to his mic, “As you mentioned earlier we’ve been playing together for some time now. After that tour I was a part of we were both starting on our next albums and would often work through arrangements or fine tune lyrics, using the other as a sounding board. This has, as evidenced, continued through the years until one day we thought we might try our hands at creating a whole album together.”
“We didn’t want it to be an album of my songs featuring him or vice versa though,” Emma chimed in. “Then it would have just been the same thing we’d already been doing which would have been fun but kinda boring at the same time. We wanted to challenge ourselves to create something new together from the beginning. Luckily our label was open to the idea and let us run with it.”
“And the name?” Tink prodded.
“A bit of an inside joke, really,” he said with a chuckle, reaching over to clasp Emma’s hand in his, “Whenever we made reservations or had to give a name for whatever reason I used Charles and Emma used Leia. I don’t even remember why-”
Emma snorted, “When he made the reservations for our first date and they asked for a name he panicked. We’d been watching The Crown and he blurted out the name Charles. At least he didn’t completely lose his shit and say Elizabeth.”
Emma’s eyes widened at the curse and clapped her hands over her mouth. Tink waved her hand in dismissal. Not a moment later the producer let them know through their headphones that cursing was fine but to keep it to a minimum if possible.
“Anyway,” Emma said evenly, though her cheeks were pink, “When it was my turn to make reservations I kept it going. Princess Leia was my hero when I was a kid. Still is actually.”
“As she is for us all,” Killian jumped in, “Of course we no longer use those as our aliases but when we were trying to decide how we wanted to present ourselves for this album this seemed appropriate.”
“We also figured it would give people the chance to listen to the songs without already having an idea of what they thought it should sound like because they knew it was us,” Emma explained, “I mean, it’s not like we’re trying to deceive anyone or anything but a lot of times people don’t try something out because they think they know exactly what it’s going to be. I know I’m totally guilty of it sometimes.”
“I’ve been listening to the album non-stop since it came out last week and you’re absolutely right, if I hadn’t already known that it was you two I wouldn’t have even been able to guess. Now, I’ve played alongside both of you and have been a fan of each of your music since both of your beginnings and I have to say, Charles & Leia is nothing like the music you’ve released before. What would you say were the biggest influences on how you approached the creation of this album?”
Killian took a moment to consider Tink’s question. He immediately dismissed sharing the long convoluted answer that began with innocent questions about one another’s past that led to a months long search into the mystery of Emma’s beginnings that came up empty while he nearly spiralled out of control once more over the unhealed pain of his borderline abusive and neglectful father. They were still working through some of those issues in therapy and even with the personal nature of the songs they’d written he didn’t feel it was necessary to elaborate on what the lyrics already implied.
“I can’t speak for Emma but for me it’s a look to the past and what influence it has on the present and the future. Take the title track for instance, my mother was Irish so I looked to the old Celtic folk songs and the instruments used, mimicking the flow of the music before playing around with more modern sounds. The result was entirely unique but still felt familiar, like an auditory deja vu, if you will.”
Tink was nodding furiously while Emma rolled her eyes at him, “I definitely won’t be that eloquent but yeah, we both have things in our past that sometimes takes a toll on who we are today. Our music was already pretty personal. I mean, I’ve written songs about growing up in foster care or when I was in jail but this was something else. Every day when we finished recording whatever song we were working on I felt like I’d been turned inside out and then wrung out but in a good way? It makes no sense but I’ve also never been this proud of one of my albums.”
“Well you should both be damn proud! I may be the tad bit biased but I think this may be the best album to come out this year and we’re only halfway through,” Tink effused.
“Thank you lass,” he mumbled as he scratched behind his ear at the compliment.
He caught Emma’s eye and she gave him an indulgent smile. She was well aware that sincere praise always tended to discomfit him, as he felt he was undeserving of it, especially when it came from someone he knew well. It was something he was working on getting better at accepting, with her help of course.
“Since the album was a surprise release there hasn’t been any confirmation of a tour yet. Any chance we’ll be seeing you two taking this act on the road?”
“We’re doing a kind of a mini tour on the east coast and then a couple of dates out here,” Emma explained, her eyes sparkling, “We didn’t want to get too ahead of ourselves and book a bunch of dates and then not have anyone show up.”
“I doubt that will be a problem,” Tink dismissed with a bright laugh, “From what I’ve been told nearly every show is sold out. So if any of you listeners out there want to see Emma and Killian perform songs from this brilliant new album I’d say don’t wait to buy your tickets. I already have mine.
“Now, I know this album is only weeks old and you both have flourishing solo careers but I have to ask: can we expect even bigger things from you two in the future?”
With a smile he had no hope of quelling he gave Emma a wink, though he was reasonably sure that it was nowhere near subtle. It didn’t matter though, as no one had a clue what it could mean since she had only shown him the positive pregnancy test earlier that morning. Emma gave him a beaming grin of her own and he kept his eyes on her as he spoke into his mic.
“I think you can, Tink. In fact, I’m quite certain that this is merely the happy beginning of grand things to come.”
#captain swan#cs fan fic#cs fanfic#cs ff#captain swan ff#captain swan fan fic#captain swan fanfic#captain swan fan fiction#ouat ff#my writing
17 notes
·
View notes
Text
King Buffalo Provide Respite For Pandemic-Weary Listeners on ‘The Burden of Restlessness’
~By Billy Goate~
Artwork by Zdzisław Beksiński
I confess, I came a little late to the KING BUFFALO party. I mean, I’ve known about them from their very first record on and have even picked songs to play on The Doomed & Stoned Show that's I've found particularly enjoyable. Regulars to the program know I’ve always been more a doomer than a stoner, though obviously relishing music from both worlds. Only recently had I given myself the opportunity of really baking in their music. It probably has something to do with the summer psychedelic kick I’m on lately, that and I’ve been getting a lot more sunshine, walking more, learning how to enjoy being human again.
Not only did I give the band's latest LP, 'The Burden of Restlessness' (2021) a solid listen, I've been spinning it non-stop! The title grabbed me right away, because I could very much identify with the uncertainty and fear of 2020 lockdowns, which eventually gave way to boredom and stoic despair. Depending on who you ask, it's their third studio album and it's got its hooks in me for damn sure.
Sonically, the sound is fresh and vital, every note captured prestinely by frontman/guitarist at Rochester's Main Street Armory between December and January. I don't know if he's a sound engineer on the side or what, but I really am impressed by how present the instruments sound, without excessive reverberation. After Sean finished recording and mixing, the tapes were sent to Grammy-nominated producer Bernard Matthews for mastering on the other side of the continent in Portland, Oregon.
Let's go through King Buffalo's release track-by-track, because I think there's plenty to talk about here.
1. Burning
The Burden of Restlessness by King Buffalo
I feel it falling apart Too many blisters and scars Are we the wick or the flame, are they just one in the same? Was it just doomed from the start?
The record opens with “Burning” and in those first dozen seconds of churning downtuned noise, we’re unsure what kind of song it’s going to be. An assertive riff-motif starts to dance to the accompaniment of a motor-like rhythm. The singing is as depressive as we’re bound to encounter from King Buffalo, with lyrics that express regret about “another year lost in the wasteland” and that feeling of falling apart while time stands still.
The members of King Buffalo have been on a steadily rising trajectory in recent years, so the sudden closures of concert halls and canceled tours wasn't just a bummer for a lot of professional musicians; it had immediate career implications, along with the obvious problem of no job = no money. It’s one thing to weather through a crisis when you know what the end game is, and at this time last year most of us still didn’t know what the hell was going to happen. We thought everything would open up and return to normal, then the summer of 2020 exploded all around us with social unrest. The album’s title speaks to the creative frustrations of being not only uncertain of when your band is next going to tour, but what to do in the meanwhile. For creative people, there’s a burden to create -- sometimes just to keep yourself from going mad with frustration.
2. Hebetation
The Burden of Restlessness by King Buffalo
I don’t know which way to run One thousand different ways but I can’t seem to live with one So I’m stuck where I’ve begun Another languid day, can’t seem to break away
“Hebetation” was one of the singles that emerged before the album was independently released toward the start of summer. It is the song I relate to the most, too. Vibrant Helmetesque riffmaking sets the song a sail, with a bit of a nod to Sabbath as well. The math-like interplay between drums, bass, and guitar have a vaguely krautrock aura about it, though the volume and tone is pure metal. Like the opening track, the words are frank and honest, addressing the weight of unfulfilled dreams, the jadedness that comes with disappointment, and suicidal thoughts that come floating into mind when it seems nothing's working out as planned. “Nothing’s changed at 35. Still every night I dream a million different ways for me to die.”
3. Locusts
The Burden of Restlessness by King Buffalo
Stifling the sun with wicked hands Everything undone with vicious plans
“Locusts,” as the name implies, is replete with bouncing guitar rhythm, with picking that seems to dart about like that swarm of grasshoppers that used to sweep through my poor pitiful East Texas garden mid-summer and shred everything in sight. Around the 3:30 mark, we’re treated to an extended high-end grinder of a B-section, with sweeping psychedelic gestures ala Kim Thayil -- and hearkening back to the melodic motif of another great song: “Sun Shivers.” When the A section returns, the rhythm is more deliberate, less dashing about in math or progressive fashion. The song ends with what could well end up an extended drone jam on just the right night as King Buffalo continues to roll through the U.S.
4. Silverfish
The Burden of Restlessness by King Buffalo
I stare at the cracks in the wall And melt into nothing A silverfish slithering away, from everything
“Silverfish” got a music video, which was a wise choice as the song is quite accessible and relatable, too (even if it did get a few people wondering if King Buffalo was having their own “The Sword Moment” stylistically). The main motif is a two-note broken interval from high note to low in an almost an ‘80s-style nod to the advent of computer generated music (to my ears it sounds like the guitar may either be taking on the action or playing in sync with the synthesizer).
Never fear, the heavy is soon here. When I heard those first crashing tripled-down chords, I let out an inner hellllll yeah to that shit. The quirky little melody from the start comes back, this time on guitar in a way that really works to convince you that it was a good artistic choice from the get-go.
Lyrically, it's another wistful line of expression: “I stare at the cracks in the wall, I think I’m unravelling...I think I’m losing my grip on everything, I’m drifting away.” This is also one of the few songs on the record with a strong melodic chorus. It comes towards the end, which works quite effectively in climaxing the song.
(BTW, anyone else freaked out by silverfish as much as me?)
5. Grifter
The Burden of Restlessness by King Buffalo
I make my way over the dunes Desolate and dry The remnants of empires past Too stubborn to die
“Grifter” returns to the everyman accessibility of “Burning” and “Hebetation,” with a notably despondent tenor to each line of the song. The calm singing over rhythmic verses so characteristic of King Buffalo’s writing gives way to a brutal grind sans chorus. Sometimes you don’t have words and you just have to work it all out with your axe or piano or whatever's your jam. There didn’t need to be a big, bloated angry chorus on top of it all. We feel that most adequately from the riffmaking itself, which plays out like slow burning frustration that intensifies with every round of the dirge.
6. The Knocks
The Burden of Restlessness by King Buffalo
Everyday I wake up on the floor Another useless day like every other that’s come before I can feel it creeping more and more Don’t think I wanna wake no more, don’t think I wanna live no more
“The Knocks” features the same keyboard playing as before, so now I’m sure it's either Sean or bassist Dan Reynolds on synth -- though the playing here is much more ornamental, at times adding an exclamation point to the sentiment of the lyrics. It might be a little much if overplayed, but here it’s dispensed judiciously. We have a bass, drums, and synth break where a chorus would normally be, followed by another shred sesh that’s feeling like Helmet or Prong love. A beautiful mid-range guitar melody intervenes, then things start to feel a distinctively robotic pattern announces itself around the 3:20 mark, joined in short order by the rest of the instruments. This leads to a melodious guitar sequence, with the dexterous kind of finger work that the one dude at shows likes so much when he pretends to shred next to the stage.
7. Loam
The Burden of Restlessness by King Buffalo
I’m shedding the burden of restlessness To rise from the loam of the nothingness
“Loam” hearkens back to my favorite King Buffalo album, ‘Longing To Be The Mountain’ (2018). A broken octave rhythmic pattern is plucked with drums and bass being all cool, saying just the right thing at the right time. Atop it, the jaded, sedated crooning of Sean McVay, which as both a musical and cultural Doomer I find appealing. A mean guitar lick lashes out like a whip atop bass and drums around 3 minutes, then tears into another voiceless psychedelic improvisation. It's a beautiful instrumental metal section with a hard rock appeal. The song returns to its opening vibe in an almost Toolesque fashion, then opts for more catharsis-giving mosh time and another plaintively sung extended note melody.
The verses give us a hint of hope, as Sean declares: "I’m shedding the burden of restlessness / To rise from the loam of the nothingness." I'm curious to hear the two other albums the band plans on releasing in 2021 (yes, you read that right!) and how they will pair or contrast with this one.
King Buffalo's The Burden of Restlessness holds a special place in my music library and its songs are a frequent highlight of my daily playlist. I suspect it will be a record you, too, will keep close at hand as the plague rages on. A balm for the weary soul.
Follow The Band
Get Their Music
#D&S Reviews#King Buffalo#Rochester#New York#desert rock#krautrock#blues#stoner rock#progressive rock#metal#HeavyBest2020#Doomed and Stoned
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
A happy belated birthday to my darling Gemma <3
(( four little drabbles based on some of our pairings )) @gemmamakeslists
A Dangerous Affair with Faith and Antonin
The door had closed much too loudly behind him. It mirrored the finality of this moment. Antonin had never pretended and that perhaps was what had made him so uniquely cruel. When he’d chosen her, when he’d decided to ‘see what happened’, he’d been open to feel whatever he might have. After all, the more open you were, the easier you were trusted. The more receptive you were to the little things she did, the more you noticed and became intrigued by. It was a dangerous tightrope he walked but Antonin hadn’t lost sleep about it. After all, he would always finish the job.
He was supposed to finish the job.
His hands never shook, not ever but tonight they betrayed him. If she had suspected, if she had been worried, it didn’t show. Instead, concern flashed across that almost unreadable face. That alone was a punch to the gut. Of course he didn’t exactly look his best. He was about to make the single most impactful decision of his life - his hair had not taken it well. Neither had the dark circles under his eyes, the palpable anxiety he felt causing a trickle of sweat to make its way down his neck.
If he made it quick, it could be a mercy. She was a target now and even if he let her go... It would be a life of looking over her shoulder. Faith may have been tougher than most but she wouldn’t survive, not now. Loneliness was easier to accept, to live with, when you hadn’t tasted the alternative. He knew that all too well now. This was just supposed to be another job. Another name scratched off a list. Another day.
What did it matter if he loved her? What did it matter that his father would kill him himself if he didn’t see this through? What did anything matter when she was looking at him like that, eyes hopeful and trusting and all too familiar with disappointment and pain?
The loaded gun felt impossibly heavy in his hands as he watched the colour slowly drain from her face as that trust started to falter. Surely not...? He couldn’t, he wouldn’t-
“Antonin-,” but he’d made his decision long before she breathed his name. In truth, he had made his decision long before even now. He had been interested every time she spoke, dizzied by her rare laugh and moved by the way she saw the world and all its dark, terrible corners. She’d danced with the devil and never known, until now. He took a step towards her and to her credit, to her grit, she barely flinched and did not move.
The cold touch of the metal ran up his spine as he put the gun away. Of course he put the gun away.
“We have to leave. Tonight. There’s no time to explain-,” his mind was moving faster now, catching up, calming down. This he could do. This he could manage without shaking. “They want you dead. My father, his organization. I won’t let that happen to you, do you understand?” Usually she would argue, questions, rage until she was blue or purple or red in the face. There was an ache in his chest as he saw the tears in her eyes, too stubborn to fall. Convincing her that his feelings were real would take time and maybe she’d never believe him which she was well within her right not to but that didn’t matter now. Now his only thought, his only goal, was to keep her safe.
Antonin stopped moving for long enough to look her in those burning blue eyes. It had to boil down to one thing now and it wasn’t love, it wasn’t longing or truth. It was this: “Do you trust me?”
And perhaps against her every better judgement, in that moment she nodded, gripping tightly onto his outstretched hand.
“Yes.”
A Reckless Serenade with Krystal and Luke
The pub was probably the dullest, stickiest, faintly rancid place in town but it let his band play and paid them in free drinks. So, really, who’s to complain? Luke was usually nervous before a show, anxious right up until he was bouncing around the stage and even then. Tonight he was especially nervous. Tonight, he’d asked the prettiest, coolest, sassiest girl from the record store to come to his show. He’d made some big song and dance about putting his homemade poster up in the store to which she’d said ‘nah, pal’. Luke had just been pleased as punch to chat with her anyway.
The likelihood of her actually showing up tonight... He wasn’t sure what made him more nervous. Would she? Wouldn’t she? He couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was about Krystal Mercury but he thought an awful lot about holding her hand. That was enough to inspire screeds and screeds of poppy poetry, some of it beautiful even. When it came to writing a song, he could say it all. When it came to talking to her? Forget about it.
Now, all he had to do was convince himself that he wouldn’t be perfectly miserable if he didn’t see her tonight. It was a decent crowd, anyway. At least fifteen people. If you counted the bartender (which he always did). It was all peachy.
Except, he really wanted her to be in the crowd.
“Come on, mate.” Luke blinked at his band-mate, as if suddenly remembering the fact that the whole point of tonight was to play a show. Right, here we go. No matter what happ---
For half a beat, he held his breath entirely. After all, it wasn’t terribly well lit in here and he might have been mistaken. Although, wasn’t she quite unmistakable?
Krystal’s hair was down, hanging by the shoulders of her denim jacket with what he thought might have been sewn on patches for a splash of colour. She was here. When he met her eye, he reckoned he caught a smile and time might have slowed down. He’d always been hopeless and maybe even romantic but he never thought he’d get himself quite this tongue tied over someone. Not a very handy thing when you were the lead singer, mind.
Then just like that reality return and he opened his mouth at last, the sound of rip roaring guitar and faster-than-your-racing-heart drum beats filled the air, and his head. Luke felt giddy, elated and it wasn’t just from the adrenaline of playing a show. It wasn’t that at all.
“And truth be told, I’d be terribly content to hold your hand.”
Funny how much effort it took to make it seem like you were very cool and casual around someone you definitely didn’t feel cool or casual around. Luke gave it his best once he’d exited the stage.
“Alright, Songbird.”
“Well, you weren’t shite, then.”
Luke let out a laugh, still clad in his leather jacket despite the stage lights.
“Do you want to see backstage?” Luke took the world’s longest breath, holding out his hand.
“Backstage,” he shot her a grin at that comment. Fair enough, this was hardly the Grammy’s. Still, she took his hand.
A Brighter Day with Olivia and Ian
Ian Morrison had just been some guy on vacation when he noticed her. A totally normal, very stylish and slightly drunk guy on vacation. Olivia Winters had just been some girl working her part-time job and going to classes. Sometimes she remembered to text back her annoying BFF Samson too. She was perfectly normal, happy and a little bit no-nonsense especially when it come to guys on vacation who thought they were stylish.
It was perfect.
The first time Ian noticed her, she was sitting outside of a café with a stack of books and a black coffee. Her bangs threatened to cover her eyes, her brow was furrowed in concentration and she was about to lose one of her papers to a summer’s breeze. Now, being a perfectly normal, perfectly human guy, Ian had to run like a fool to catch it for her. Did he expect to be showered in thanks? No but a compliment on his Hawaiian shirt would have been nice.
Olivia didn’t even give him that.
The next time Ian sees her, she’s wearing dungarees and eating an overly shiny apple. He smells strongly of daytime tequila (it was vacation, after all) and was just on the way to meet his brother for a late lunch. Ian doesn’t have a good excuse this time but damn it all, he goes for it anyway.
“You know, an apple a day keeps the doctor away.”
“And what exactly would keep you away?”
“Pineapples. They freak me out.”
“There are at least seven pineapples on your shirt right now.”
“It’s a power play, I’m letting them know who’s boss so they don’t smell my fear. I’m playing the long game here. I’m Ian, BTW.”
“Right... Olivia, BTW.” She wasn’t nearly as accustomed to using the acronym out loud, hence the sarcasm.
“Well, I’ll see you around O-L-I-V-I-A,” he grinned, shooting her a wink. She rolled her eyes. She smiled. What a weirdo.
The next time again that Ian sees Olivia, the sun is setting over waves and he’s wearing shorter shorts than you might think appropriate for a Sunday evening. He was just giving the people something to smile about. He has his sunglasses on, sitting under one of those absurdly large beach umbrellas, half-asleep, when she sits herself down without even a ‘hello’. How rude. He didn’t mind.
“Here.” Ian opened his eyes lazily, glancing down at the apple in his palm. A smile tugged at his lips. What a weirdo. “For the doctor,” she added, as if that made sense. Ian let out a laugh. She felt funny but not in a bad way.
“Thank you, O,” he said around a crunch, peaking over at her before nudging his sunglasses down his nose. “So, you planning on sticking around or are you actually a mermaid en route to the sea? Either one is cool with me.”
“Not a mermaid. A sea-witch and if you’re not careful, you won’t leave here with all your fingers and toes still attached.” He was only almost certain it was a joke which only made Ian Morrison grin wider.
“Only one way to find out then.” Olivia stayed beside him long after the sun had set, telling herself it was fine because he was just some boy on vacation with a nice smile and a ridiculously warming laugh.
The last time Ian sees Olivia is when he’s on the bus, feeling a keen hangover as he presses his face against the cool glass. Mark Morrison is putting their luggage under the bus, making sure Ian has plenty of water and crackers for the uneasy ride back home.
Ian doesn’t know why or how he opened his eyes at exact, perfect moment to see her but he did. He was so glad he did. An easy smile came to his face and the same happened for her.
Olivia lifted her hand up in a wave, minimum effort and very meaningful all the same.
Ian pressed his palm to the window, dramatic and very meaningful all the same.
Mark made his way onto the bus, backpack in tow and Ian turned to shoot his best bro a grin and by the time he looked back around, Olivia was gone.
A Little Hope with Autumn and Oliver
There was only one bed in the motel and the bath tub was abysmal. Oliver would have taken the chair- it’s not as if he slept much these days anyway but Autumn had insisted. Well, perhaps that was the wrong word. She said he would be no good to her if he was exhausted and hadn’t he been the one who had dragged her into this mess? That he could not argue with.
Still, he couldn’t sleep.
Oliver wasn’t proud of the weakness, of the cruelty he had inflicted by having Autumn conjure up the soul of his beloved. He couldn’t pretend he didn’t know just how Angel had died, the fire, the explosion... The way that Autumn had to feel that just so he could have a scrap, a false echo of the woman he had loved more than anything in this wretched world. What’s worse is that he needed her to do it again.
Autumn needed the money. She needed to start over so if that meant sticking with Oliver DiLaurentis a little longer then fine. He shouldn’t have lied to her, shouldn’t have left out the part where there was a price on his head. They’d been on the run for weeks now and he had begged her to leave him to perish more than once. Autumn refused, for whatever reason.
Well, it was the money, wasn’t it? Of course it was. They had a deal. Had his father not taught him how to be a good businessman? He couldn’t back out of a deal. That would be dishonorable. How goddamn backwards his family had been. Were. Oliver turned on his side.
He owed Autumn his life, whatever was left of it. He would see this through. He’d protect her the way that he hadn’t been able to protect... To protect Angel. A haggard breath left his lungs as he looked over to her lying beside him. He felt his chest ache. Then-
Autumn turned, turned too far in fact and now she was leaning against his chest. Oliver stopped breathing. He hadn’t felt a moment of peace since the fire. Since he’d... Just, since. He doubted he’d ever feel a moment of peace again but for the briefest of moments, as he let out his breath, he felt the first real glimmer of hope that he might. It was a foolish, frivolous thought but he had it nonetheless.
Her breathing was even, her sleep yet to be interrupted. For reasons entirely beyond him, he gently touched her shoulder and felt the real weight of exhaustion he had been fighting off until now. He was bone tired, desperate for sleep but too scared to close his eyes. Autumn wasn’t though. From what he had seen of her, from what he had seen her do, he thought she was fearless. A survivor. Beautiful, in her own special way. He fought the thought off but still it whispered in the back of his mind- not like her though, not like Angel.
Oliver closed his eyes, a tear falling down his cheek. He didn’t move his hand from her shoulder and she didn’t move her head from his chest.
For the first time, he slept.
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
HALESTORM's LZZY HALE: 'Going To Therapy Has Been One Of The Most Amazing Acts Of Self-Love That I've Done For Myself'
During a recent appearance on the "Hardcore Humanism With Dr. Mike" podcast, HALESTORM frontwoman Lzzy Hale spoke about how rock music has long been an outlet for youthful rebellion and how it has served as the musical voice of its time, but not the mainstream voice — the underdog voice.
"The beauty of music, and specifically rock music, is that it has always stood up for the downtrodden, always stood up for the freaks, the people that don't necessarily have a place at the cool kids' table," she said (hear audio below). "And what we've ultimately cultivated in our band community and all of that, and our career, but also, we didn't invent this — this is just something that exists and we are very proud of — being proud of your flaws, or your so-called flaws, being proud that you don't necessarily fit in… And that's easier said than done, but the beauty of music is that I'm able to turn these real-life experiences, or these stories that I hear from our fans, into something that they can take as theirs."
Hale also touched upon her own struggles with mental health and how she has benefited from treatment.
"I've been going to therapy for about a year and a half, for the first time in my life," she revealed. "It started before the pandemic. And it's been one of the most amazing acts of self-love that I think I've done for myself. Now I have so many more tools in my tool box to, like, just be, 'Okay. Something's going on. All right. I need the hammer. There it is. All right. We've got it.' I digress.
"But it's really great to be a part of that thing that is something bigger than yourself," she continued. "I feel like through music, that has been a vehicle. At the same time, what I'm discovering just about who I am and the kind of things I wanna get out to the world, even beyond music, I think I'm learning even more about what my own mission statements are and what I want to put out there in the world."
Hale added: "As far as I know, I've got one ride on this thing, so I'm gonna do what I can. [Laughs]"
Last month, Lzzy said that HALESTORM has demoed "about 60 ideas" for the follow-up to 2018's "Vicious" album.
In September, Lzzy confirmed to U.K.'s Rock Sound that she has been using her coronavirus downtime to compose material for the new HALESTORM LP. "I've been writing, honestly, some of the best songs I've ever written, because I've just had the time, and there isn't any deadline and nobody's breathing down my neck, saying, 'Hey, where are those demos?'," she said.
"I haven't been home without a gig for this long in probably over 15 years, so that's a strange thing. I think in one way, I have the time, but in another way, I'm seeking that high out, I'm seeking that joy that I find from playing out live every night. I'm not writing for any other reason — I'm not writing for a deadline, I'm not writing for a record, even though technically I am; we are technically working on a new HALESTORM record. But I'm writing from such a position of joy right now, literally just getting excited about some small piece of music. And I'm taking more risks now, because I have the space and the time and I've settled into something. And I'm not even quite sure what that is, and I feel like it's gonna reveal itself maybe later, but right now, I'm in it, and it's exciting."
"Halestorm Reimagined", a collection of reworked HALESTORM original songs as well as a cover of "I Will Always Love You", the love ballad made famous by Whitney Houston and Dolly Parton, was made available in August.
Lzzy and her brother Arejay (drums) formed the band in 1998 while in middle school. Guitarist Joe Hottinger joined the group in 2003, followed by bassist Josh Smith in 2004.
In December 2018, HALESTORM was nominated for a "Best Rock Performance" Grammy Award for its song "Uncomfortable".
In 2012, the band won its first Grammy in the category of "Best Hard Rock/ Metal Performance" for "Love Bites (So Do I)". According to the Grammy web site, Lzzy became the first woman to earn a Grammy in the category.
2 notes
·
View notes
Photo
pieces - chapter 4
summary: Five years ago, Chloe dropped off the face of the Earth. Beca didn't expect to see her again dancing in a strip club, out of all places.
rating: E (drug use, emotional abuse)
ao3 link
*
six years ago
Chloe glanced up at the Girls neon sign and adjusted her purse over her shoulder, sucking in a sharp breath. She wasn’t sure why she was so nervous; it was just dancing, right? Chloe loved dancing. Granted, it would be in a bikini and heels with mostly middle-aged men watching, a far cry from her performances as Bella, but she could do this.
She didn’t have much of a choice, anyway.
Money had been really tight lately, as it turned out living in NYC was really expensive, and her parents couldn’t help her much, given that they had already financed her seven years in Barden and her dad had health issues.
It was one of her colleagues at the coffee shop Chloe worked at who told her about stripping. The money was a lot better and the hours were flexible, so Chloe could go to class during the day, study for a bit at night then head to work. Sleep would be scarce but… it was either that or she wouldn’t be able to pay rent this month.
Sucking in a deep breath, Chloe pushed the door open and found it locked. It was only seven pm, but she didn’t want to bother the manager later in the night when it got busy. She knocked on the surface several times, the door eventually opening after a minute or two.
“Yes?” A slightly older woman popped her head out. “What can I do for you, honey? We don’t open ‘til nine.”
“I know, um, I was hoping to see the manager? I was told there was an opening for a stripper position.”
Her gaze swept over Chloe’s figure, and she smiled before opening the door wider. “Have a seat, I’ll call him.”
present time
“Marco, turn off your fucking phone,” Chloe groaned, patting the space next to her to wake him up.
The blaring alarm was jamming into her skull like a goddamn sledgehammer. When her hand only met soft sheets, Chloe’s eyes opened, instantly squinting against the blinding light. Marco wasn’t there. Not that it was much of a surprise, as he often slept around. “Fuck,” she muttered as she sat up, eventually locating the offending object and swiping across the screen until it turned silent. Chloe flopped back against the mattress, legs twisting into the sheets as she angled her face into the pillow. Her head was pulsing from a raging hangover and her mouth felt as dry as the freaking Sahara, but Chloe didn’t feel like moving.
She didn’t feel like living.
Each morning felt like having to claw herself a way out from underneath the rubble. Each morning felt like she had fallen a little bit deeper during the night.
All of that because of one wrong step, and a tumble.
five and a half years ago
Multiple Sclerosis.
Chloe remembered the day her parents told her about it. She was eighteen, it was a warm evening in the summer. She had been stargazing, like she often did during those peaceful nights, making the most of Oregon’s gorgeous skies before she moved to Atlanta for college.
Her mom called her inside, sitting her down at the table. Chloe could immediately tell something was wrong.
Her dad was sick. Multiple Sclerosis, the doctor said. Chloe had heard of it, but she wasn’t sure what it meant. Her dad explained it was something to do with the brain and the nerves. He was starting to lose feeling in his right arm, and it would only get worse with age.
The news crushed Chloe; her dad was her best friend, her adventure buddy. He took her on camping trips before she could walk. They went fishing together, played ball on the nearby court, or went for runs on the beach on Sundays. He often talked about how excited he was to do all these things with his grandchildren in the future.
Since his disease was late-onset, it progressed quickly. Her dad could no longer walk, and she could tell her parents were struggling with affording treatment, homecare, and equipment to make their lives easier.
“More shifts, huh?” Greg, the club’s manager, asked her as he reclined back in his leather chair behind his desk, folding his hands over his stomach.
“Yeah, I’m a little tight on money and would like to work two more nights a week.”
She would figure out how to juggle stripping with school. She just would.
“I don’t have any more shifts available, unfortunately. However…” he pushed to his feet and rounded his desk, leaning against it as he faced Chloe. “Clients like you. I’ve stopped counting the number of times they requested you for something private. So there’s always that option to make extra cash.”
“Something private?” Chloe cleared her throat. “What um-- what does that entail exactly?”
Greg smirked. “Anything goes for the right amount of money.”
Chloe knew the more she thought about it, the most likely she was to chicken out. So she agreed.
“You look like you’re going to be sick, hun,” Martha, the oldest stripper of the bunch, said as she approached Chloe. She sat in front of her vanity, mentally preparing herself to go into one of the VIP rooms with a client. “You need to pull yourself together, babe. The client won’t enjoy it if you’re nervous.”
She reached inside her purse and produced a tiny zip-lock bag with a bit of white powder in it.
“Helps to take the edge off, especially on your first time,” she added when Chloe glanced at her in shock.
“I don’t-- I don’t do that stuff.”
She knew drugs got around the club. Most of the girls used. Crack, ecstasy, heroin, meth… you name it, Chloe had seen it go around. But she promised herself she’d never go down that route.
Martha shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
Chloe lasted three weeks before snorting her first line.
present time
“Fuck, where is it?” Chloe muttered to herself as she rummaged through her bag, eventually tipping it back so its contents spread over the mattress.
She spotted the tiny bag and snatched it, smearing some of its content onto the small mirror laying on her bedside table. Her hand shook as she used an expired credit card to make a line, then grabbed the straw.
You know that first cup of coffee of the day you can hardly function without? Well, that is what cocaine had become to Chloe. She used to justify her actions by convincing herself she could stop anytime she wanted to. But it was already too late. She was hooked, and it was too fucking hard to stop.
As she plopped back on her bed and attempted to relax while the coke worked on her nervous system, Chloe thought of Beca.
five years ago
Bree 💕
Chloe groaned at the name flashing on her vibrating phone and flipped it over, curling up in a ball on her bed. She had been ignoring most of the girls for the past few weeks. Every glance at the group chat reminded her of how much of a failure she was.
Aubrey had just passed the bar. Beca had been nominated for a Grammy. Cynthia-Rose was a music producer. Stacie, a space engineer. And so on.
They were all successful in life, while Chloe?
Well, Chloe had dropped out of vet school. She was a stripper who pleasured men for a living. She lived in a tiny box apartment and spent her grocery money on crack. She got drunk pretty much every night and had absolutely no prospect in life.
Their yearly Bellas reunion was just around the corner, and Chloe hadn’t replied yet, which was no doubt the reason behind her best friend calling this morning. And yesterday. And the day before that.
Chloe couldn’t go. For the same reason, she couldn’t go home to her parents.
The thought of it only fed that shame eating away at her soul.
present day
Chloe hadn’t allowed herself to think about the Bellas in a long time, as it only brought heartbreak, regrets, and even more shame over how she had left things.
But then Beca showed up out of the blue, and Chloe’s shield instantly materialized. She saw it right there in Beca’s eyes; the pity over what Chloe had become. That unspoken reminder that she was a failure made Chloe want to crawl out of her own skin.
Chloe wasn’t planning on using that business card. Even though Beca was on her mind near constantly, she couldn’t bring herself to call her. And then they bumped into one another last week, and despite the snark, what was left of the Chloe from six years ago within her thought it might mean something.
A coffee. Coffee was fine, to start with.
Sarah was unexpected, yet another proof of how together Beca’s life was. But Chloe pushed through the discomfort swirling around her insides, up until the money comment. Up until it further dawned on her that they now belonged to two very different worlds.
Beca was probably a multi-millionaire. Aubrey was a lawyer. And Chloe? Well, Chloe was still just as worthless as she was five years ago. That shame she had somehow managed to bury all that time came right back around to slap her in the face.
So she bolted, figuring this was the last she would see of Beca Mitchell.
Except Chloe couldn’t stop thinking about her.
Grabbing her computer, she sat up against the headboard and balanced the device on her thighs, allowing herself to look Beca up for the first time in five years.
Various photos of Beca on the red carpet and a Wikipedia page popped up, and Chloe clicked on the page, swallowing the lump forming in her throat as she scrolled down. Fifteen minutes later, she somehow found herself on YouTube, typing in the same name and clicking on the most popular video.
Something unraveled within her as she heard that voice for the first time in half a decade. An array of emotions released, but one stood out over the others as it was a feeling Chloe hadn’t experienced in a long time: peace.
Music hadn’t felt like music for a long while; Chloe had lost her connection to it somewhere down the road. She had grown numb to it, just like with most things that used to make her happy.
But this… Chloe had forgotten what it felt like to be moved by lyrics. To feel comforted by a melody that felt like a warm blanket over her soul. Soon tears were slipping out of her eyes and Chloe didn’t do anything to stop them. She curled up in a ball and played Beca’s albums on shuffle for the next three hours, basking in that temporary moment of serenity.
When it eventually stopped, Chloe plucked Beca’s business card from her bedside table and grabbed her phone, blinking several times to clear her vision so she could punch in the right numbers. Her heart echoed in her ears as she waited for someone to pick it up.
“BMLJ, Tara speaking, how may I help?”
“H-hi, this is Chloe Beale. I was wondering if I could speak to Beca? Beca Mitchell.”
“Hold please.”
Chloe started picking on her nails, battling with the little voice inside her head encouraging her to hang up.
“Chlo?”
Chloe’s chest tightened at the nickname, and her voice stuck to her throat. “Hi.”
“What’s wrong? Are you crying?”
“No, I… I mean yes, I am crying but I-- I just listened to your music and-- it’s amazing, Beca.”
“Oh.” Beca sounded surprised. A few beats of silence follow. “It means a lot that you liked it, Chlo.”
It took Chloe a handful of seconds to realize she was the one supposed to say something. “I um, is this a bad time?”
“No, no. What’s up?”
Chloe sucked in a sharp breath as she picked at a loose thread on her sleeping shorts. “I um, well I was wondering if we could see each other sometime next week? I’m sorry about the other day, I wasn’t-- I wasn’t feeling great.”
“You don’t need to apologize. And yeah, that sounds great. How about Thursday for lunch? Or a walk in the park, if you prefer.”
“A walk in the park sounds good.”
“We can meet next to the Roosevelt statue in front of the Natural History Museum at 12:30?”
“Okay.”
“Chloe?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m really happy you called. See you on Thursday.”
Chloe’s smile felt like the first genuine one in too long. “See you on Thursday.”
“What’s going on on Thursday?”
Chloe jolted, looking over her shoulder to find Marco standing in the doorway. “Jesus, Marco. You scared the crap out of me.”
two years ago
“I’m Marco, the club’s new manager,” the dark-haired man introduced himself, extending a hand towards Chloe.
Chloe shook his hand. “I’m Ariel.”
“You really are as beautiful as they say.”
She glanced through the mirror and met his eyes; unimpressed. “Is it a habit of yours to hit on your employees?”
He chuckled. “No. I guess you’re the exception.”
Chloe wasn’t interested. At first, anyway. But Marco had apparently set his sights on her, and well, Chloe felt lonely. They played around each other for a few months, eventually giving in to their attraction towards each other. One night’s shenanigans blossomed into more, and Chloe found herself falling for her boss.
And she believed him when he told her he loved her. He was the buoy in her storm, the hand that was pulling her from underneath the rubble. Chloe was so blinded by that that she didn’t pick up on his toxic behavior right away.
“Here’s a thought,” he murmured one morning as they lay in bed in his luxurious condo.
Chloe raised an eyebrow. She was definitely still drunk from last night, her recent hit of crack causing her mind to float blissfully.
He set his chin on her hipbone as he lay on his stomach, looking up at her. “I don’t want you to work in the VIP room anymore.”
“Are you jealous or something?” Chloe slurred, smirking to mask how desperate she was to stop working in the VIP room. It had crushed her spirit. “You know I can’t afford to only live on lapdances and the stage. I have rent and bills to pay.”
He licked his lips, a soft smile spreading across her features. “I know. Which is why you should move in with me.”
Chloe rolled her eyes. “We’ve been together only four months.”
“But I love you,” he said, almost desperately. “And you love me too, right? We’re good together, baby.”
A sigh flitted past Chloe’s lips. “Even if I do move in, I still have to take care of my dad.”
“I know that too. And I want you to get a cut from the nightly profit, too.”
Chloe should have known it was too good to be true, yet she agreed.
It was another year before the veil lifted and Marco showed his true character.
present
Marco ignored her. As he usually did. “What’s going on on Thursday?” He repeated his tone calm and collected as always.
“I’m meeting up with Beca.” Not waiting for an answer, Chloe stood and padded out of the bedroom and towards the kitchen. It was nearly five, and she hadn’t eaten anything yet.
“The chick from the 20 grand lapdance?” Marco followed, crossing his arms as he leaned against the counter while Chloe rummaged through the cupboards for a snack. “What’s her deal?”
“What do you mean, what’s her deal? We’re just gonna catch up. I told you, we used to be friends in college.”
Marco’s features hardened. “I don’t want you to see her.”
Chloe grabbed a box of crackers and rolled her eyes. “I don’t remember asking you for your opinion.”
Marco approached, pinning her between his body and the counter. “Don’t talk to me like that, Chloe.”
Chloe gritted her teeth and glared at him, standing her ground. “I never complain about you sleeping around with other women and you lose your mind over me meeting a friend? You don’t control me. I’ll meet her if I want to.”
She moved to get past him, yelping when he yanked her back by the arm. The anger swirling in his eyes made her choke on her saliva.
“I don’t think you realize how much I’ve done for you, Chloe. If it weren’t for me, you’d still be giving blowjobs for a living.” He didn’t need to raise his voice; the truth behind his words was powerful enough as they wormed their way into Chloe’s brain. “Does she even know you’re a crack addict? That you can’t go more than five hours without a hit?” He continued, seemingly finding it satisfying to break through Chloe’s armor. “Maybe she’s just looking for a charity case.”
Chloe warred with her mind not to believe him, shaking her head as her insecurities muffled her anger towards Marco. “That’s not-- that’s not true. You’re wrong.”
“Am I?”
Chloe remained silent, doubt seizing her.
“That’s what I thought.” Marco’s hold loosened. “Think about your dad, sweetheart. It would be a shame if you suddenly found yourself without a job and no money to provide for him. You know no other strip club will want you if I fire you. And that’s all you can do, isn’t it? Using your body to charm men into giving you money.” He squeezed her hip, leaning in closer so he was whispering the next bit directly against her ear. “So I would listen if I were you.”
He walked away then, but his words remained, trapping Chloe’s mind in an invisible prison.
71 notes
·
View notes
Text
Of Cars and Bars Chapter 14/14
Here it is, after three years, the epilogue to Of Cars and Bars. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed and commented and sent kudos/liked or reblogged here or on Ao3 or Fanfiction.net. Every single one brought me so much joy and made me keep writing even when I didn't think I could. I hope you like the ending I gave these two idiots.
Also, as always, thank you to @kmomof4 for all your amazing help and support writing this story <3 Dedicating it to you for the last time :’(
Also thanks to @artistic-writer for helping me start this freaking epilogue when I was tearing my hair out!
Summary:
Rated E
When Emma Swan is offered the chance to go on tour as an opener for one of the most popular up and coming bands of the decade, the last thing she expects is to find that the lead guitarist is the stranger she had a one night stand with five years ago.
This started out as a smutty two shot about Emma Ruby and Mary Margaret going on a road trip and has evolved into a slow-burn mutual pining angst-fest.
Read it from the beginning on Ao3 and Ffn because tumblr eats all my italics.
Epilogue - Heal Me
I wasn't looking for you / But I think maybe I was and didn't know / Oh this is love like wildness / Coursing through you like a drug
The trial had dragged on for another month. Another month of long nights and exhausting days at the end of which Killian came home to the tiny apartment he shared with his brother and his sister-in-law drained and worn out both emotionally and physically. But it was different now than it had been. Because Emma was there. She’d stayed. She’d joined them in their cramped little two bedroom until all of the drama was over and they were finally able to go back to New York.
It had been fun if he was honest. Sure, the four of them had been practically living on top of each other, but he felt supported, surrounded by love. He and Emma spent that month sneaking around like teenagers, occasionally waking up to disapproving looks from Liam and Belle, but they didn’t hold any real venom. He could tell that they were happy he had Emma.
Emma had been worried that Liam wouldn’t forgive her. She’d told him the whole story, about how she’d promised Liam back when they were on tour that she wouldn’t break his heart and when she had, Liam had called her out on it. While he was annoyed with his brother for meddling in his life, it was also another reminder that he had a family who would always look out for him.
Liam had forgiven her. Easily, to everyone’s surprise. He’d said that he understood that sometimes it took time for people to realise their mistakes and do the right thing. Killian was shocked to hear those words come from his brother’s mouth. He was always so black and white. Perhaps Belle was rubbing off on him. But maybe it was because she had come back and Liam realized that the present and future were what mattered, not the past. Whatever the reason was, he was glad that the two most important people in his life had made peace.
Gold had been denied probation, had been denied a mistrial and he was sent back to prison. He would likely have another chance at parole, another chance to appeal the decision, but they would deal with that when they came to it. For now, justice had been served and Killian could finally rest, feeling that Milah had been avenged in some way.
When the dust had settled, they’d headed back to the States. Originally, they had wanted to start their tour right away but had decided that it was better to wait until the next summer. Besides, the Ugly Ducklings were in the middle of recording an album and Robin wanted them to finish it - wanted to have it drop while there was still some summer left. He also suggested that it would be better for them to tour after the record had been released so that people would know their songs and buy more tickets.
There had been negotiations about that. About whether or not it was a good idea to have double headlining acts or if the Ugly Ducklings should still open for Abandon Ship! since they were still lesser known. That decision had been made for them however, when the girls’ album went platinum two weeks after it was released.
Emma had been shocked. She didn’t understand what the hell had happened but somehow, overnight, they were famous. They couldn’t go out on the streets without being recognized, without constant demands for photos and autographs. Suddenly she was overwhelmed with requests for interviews and appearances on talk shows and morning shows.
That had been another reason the tour was delayed. Between the success of the two groups, there was barely time left to schedule one, hardly any time that they were both available. Belle, as both of their managers now, had wanted them to ride the success of the album, to go on tour right away. But it hadn’t been possible. So it had been delayed until the new year.
A sort of competition had started between the two bands as both their albums continued to have songs rivaling for the number one song in the country over the months that followed. Killian particularly enjoyed it because whenever Emma would brag that her song had beat his, he could brag that he still won because the song was about him. In fairness, she could claim the same.
Emma was convinced that their sudden popularity had more to do with the very public display of affection between her and Killian that day in London. She was sure that people had looked her up and found the album that way. Killian was convinced that it was the video of their last encore that had gone viral. She’d created a one-time, exclusive song that had no other recording apart from one enthusiastic cameraman who had leaked it online and the throngs of cellphone videos.
She’d given them that one taste of what she could do and then had finally released it a few months later with a whole album of equally fantastic songs. Besides, Killian had said, Why did it matter? People were listening to her music. They heard it and they liked it and she touched people with her lyrics and her melodies. Did it matter how they had gotten there?
Despite how busy they were, Emma and Killian still managed to find time to write together. They’d started in London whenever Killian had a particularly rough time with the case and needed to vent, needed an outlet for his pain. They’d continued when they moved back to New York - Emma with Ruby and Mary Margaret, and Killian with Graham and David. It was all of three months before their friends demanded that they move out of their apartments and in with each other, sick of the constant displays of affection.
Emma felt bad - kind of. She kept expecting it to stop. Kept expecting to want him less, for the pull between them to relax, to slow. She thought she’d eventually stop wanting to touch him all the time, to make love to him all the time. But she didn’t. She couldn’t get enough of him, couldn’t keep her hands to herself, nor could he keep his to himself.
She couldn't help it. She loved being around him, loved the way he made her feel and laugh and think and the way he brought out the music in her. She liked talking to him, listening to him talk, liked being vulnerable with him and seeing him open up to her. Maybe this was just love, she thought. Maybe she really hadn’t felt it before him.
One of their songs, however, had blown up in a way she never expected. Most times, when they wrote, it was one helping the other work through a bit they were stuck on, helping them fix the chord or the lyric that sounded wrong. But this one they'd written together. The lyrics, the melody, and the feelings that inspired it were equally his and hers.
They hadn’t even meant for it to be released. Ruby had overheard it when she’d come over when they were in the middle of a writing session. Her exact words had been ‘holy fuck’. She’d had them play it for Belle and the guys and Mary Margaret, all of whom insisted that the song needed to be recorded, not by either group but by the two of them, released as a stand alone single.
Belle had insisted they release it on social media first. On twitter and instagram and others Emma hadn’t heard of. They’d released it under Killian Jones from Abandon Ship! and Emma Swan from the Ugly Ducklings, and they’d recorded it in their apartment, both of them sitting on a pair of kitchen chairs in their living room with a few mics set up. Just them and their guitars playing together and to each other, two of the biggest new faces in music, one of the most talked about and gossiped about couples in the industry (and drooled over as Killian liked to remind everyone), singing a love song to and about each other.
They went viral in an hour. The song was constantly talked about online and on talk shows and in press interviews - as was their relationship. They were asked dozens and dozens of times to confirm that they were in fact a couple. Killian was thrilled that he could say yes, that he could tell the whole world that he loved Emma Swan and that she loved him too. He was even more thrilled when she was the one to say it.
It didn’t scare her anymore. She was still a private person, still didn’t like anyone knowing anything about her personal life really, but he knew that she didn’t care that the whole world knew she was in love with him. And that thought made his heart soar every time.
And then the really crazy thing happened. They were nominated. For a Grammy. They hadn’t believed it at first when they’d gotten the call, had thought it was a prank orchestrated by Graham and David. But when it turned out to be true, and it really sunk in, he’d pulled her into his arms, laughing into her neck, unable to stop smiling. He’d known that they wrote good music together, knew that she made him better and that he made her better. But he’d never imagined this.
Arrangements had been made quickly, Belle determined to ride the wave of their Grammy win - nomination, Belle, Emma kept reminding her only to receive a dismissive wave. They managed to find a way to book a tour, to move enough things around so that they could start the day after the awards from Los Angeles and then make their way across the country. And then the UK. And then the rest of Europe.
That was where they were now, in a hotel room in L.A. the day of the Grammys. Emma was supposed to be getting ready for the awards tonight. She should have left a little while ago really. But while she was excited to go back on tour, was honoured and humbled that they’d been nominated for best song, the idea of leaving the hotel room, leaving the hotel room bed where she was currently tangled up with a very attractive and very naked rockstar made spending hours being gussied up sound like a far less appealing option.
“We need to get going, Swan,” Killian said detangling himself from her arms despite her best efforts and stepping off the side of the bed. Emma pouted.
“No, we don’t,” she whined, reaching for him again but he danced out of her reach. He laughed. He always laughed when she was this frustrated, and a little needy for him too, honestly. It wasn’t her fault. He was standing there next to the bed in all his God-given glory, miles of bare arms and legs and chest and ass on display. It was really just cruel of him.
“You’re right,” he said. “I don’t have to get going. You do.”
She groaned and rolled her eyes, not happy with the reminder of what the rest of her day and night was going to look like. “Do we have to go? Why don’t we just stay here?” she asked, reaching for his hand and trying to coax him back into bed with her. He was really doing his best to resist, she could tell, but his resolve was weakening. She saw the smirk pulling at his lips, saw the way his eyebrow ticked up. He didn’t pull his hand away.
“Emma, it’s the Grammys. We’re nominated. We can’t just not go.” She couldn’t tell if he was trying to convince her or himself.
She dropped his hand, rolled over onto her back and let out another, long-suffering groan. She knew she had to go but there were so many other fun things she’d rather do instead. The fact that they’d just done them was irrelevant. He sat on the bed next to her, laughing again.
“I know that,” she said. “But you get to just throw on a suit and head out the door. I have to go let myself be poked and prodded by a bunch of strangers trying to fit me into some ridiculous dress that Mary Margaret picked out.”
“Don’t you want to go and be pampered by people whose only job is to dote on you?”
“I’d rather you pamper and dote on me,” she said, running her arm up his forearm.
“Oh, really?” he asked, eyebrows raised, leaning in just a little.
“Mhm. Poked and prodded sounds good too.”
He grinned. “And how exactly would you like to be pampered, Swan?” he asked, his own hand finding her wrist, trailing up the inside of her arm to her elbow, up to her shoulder and across her collarbone.
“You know exactly how I like it,” she told him, trying to keep her breathing steady as his hand ghosted down between her breasts, over her stomach and across her hips.
He hummed. “But I want you to tell me.” Fucking hell.
“Kiss me,” she said, still shy when it came to this sort of thing but the way he reacted whenever she told him what she wanted, when she talked when they were together like this spurred her on.
“Where?” he asked with a wicked grin. She rolled her eyes, grabbed hold of the back of his neck and pulled him down to her lips. He went willingly, his mouth sliding over hers, lips parting when she licked at them, stroking her tongue with his. She really really thought she’d get over the way he kissed some day, that she’d get used to it, that it wouldn’t turn her on as much as if his mouth was moving between her legs. But god the man could kiss. She was already squirming under him, caged between his arms that were braced on either side of her, decidedly not on her body.
“Touch me,” she whined against his lips. She felt him smile against her.
“Where?” he asked before kissing her again. She took hold of his hand, lowered it to the ache between her thighs.
“Here,” she breathed.
She felt his breath catch, puffed against her lips as his fingers met her wet heat. “Always so wet for me, Swan,” he mumbled.
“Always,” she said. “Please, Killian,” she asked and he obliged, slipping one finger inside of her, sliding in easily and pumping slowly. She arched her back, pushing up against his hand. “More,” she begged and he slid in a second finger.
“Like that?” he asked, increasing the speed of his thrusts. It felt amazing but not enough. She looked up at him, saw him watching her with that same hint of the wicked smile from before, but his eyes were darker now, hooded as she writhed beneath him. But he waited. She knew she would have to tell him what she wanted. Fine. If he was going to make her beg for it then she was going to make sure he paid for it.
She grabbed his hair, pulled his head down. “Kiss my neck,” she told him, frowning when he began pressing soft, slow brushes of his lips down the column of her throat. “No,” she told him, tightening her hold, his fingers were still moving inside of her and she canted her hips, trying to increase his rhythm. “Properly. Bite me. Lick me,” she demanded.
She gasped as his mouth opened against her skin, his tongue dragging and flicking as his lips sucked at her flesh, finding the spots he knew drove her crazy. She canted her hips again and he took pity on her, flattening his palm against her so she could grind her clit against the heel. His teeth found the spot where her shoulder met her neck, biting down, just the right side of painful. She moaned and his lips curled against her shoulder.
“Lower,” she insisted, voice cracking as she dragged his face down to her breast. He waited. “Fuck, Killian, are you gonna make me ask you to suck my tits?” she growled, getting really annoyed at this game he seemed to be having so much fun with.
“That will do, Love,” he said before shifting on the bed so that he was laying next to her, hovering over her, steadying himself on an elbow. He put a knee between her legs, kept up the slow, torturous movement of his fingers as he took her breast into his mouth, rolling his tongue over her nipple before sucking at the sensitive bud.
“Yes,” she moaned. “Use your tongue again,” she demanded and he groaned against her before dragging his tongue over her nipple, flicking at it. “More,” she demanded, not even really sure what she was asking for but when he bit down on the tip she practically screamed in pleasure. Thank God he knew what she was asking for.
“Both of them,” she begged, not realising until his fingers slipped out of her heat that she’d made a mistake. “Wait, no,” she started but he only chuckled against her breast, his hand coming to the other, cupping it, wet fingers drawing lazy circles around her nipple before he dragged his thumb over it.
Her head fell back against the pillows, a small cry drawn from her lips as she arched her back into his touch. She needed more though, missed the friction between her legs and she grabbed at his hips, trying to nudge him over so she could press his thigh against her core. He didn’t move easily though and she cried out in frustration.
“Fuck, Killian! Give me something to ride!” She felt him stiffen, felt the way his fingers pinched at her nipple in a way that didn’t seem intentional. Good. She was getting to him too. She really only had the chance to feel smug for a second before he lowered himself into the cradle of her thighs, the rough hair below his navel pressing down on her clit as he let her grind her hips against him.
Emma was reeling, unable to think of anything besides the feel of his mouth and his fingers on her nipples and the pressure between her legs that was growing with every grind of her hips against him. She was lightheaded, lost to the sensations, pretty sure she was going to come from this alone. She let out a desperate moan and felt his answering growl against her skin, felt him press his hips further into her. She wanted more. She wanted -
“I want your mouth,” she gasped. “I want your tongue inside me and your fingers. I want you to lick me, suck my clit.” She grabbed at his hair again, pulled sharply. “Eat me out,” she demanded. The words felt crass coming out of her mouth but she couldn't think of another way to say it. That was exactly what she wanted. She wanted him to lick and suck at her like a starving man. She wanted him to devour her.
He growled again, giving her nipple a harsh flick before sliding down her body, pressing fast, hot kisses across her belly on his way down. She cried out, doubling over when he began his assault, his tongue dragging through her folds once, twice, before pushing inside of her, curling and licking at the wetness there. She felt his groan vibrating through her core, sending shivers down her spine.
She moaned, called out his name, and he did it again. And then again before pulling back and sliding his fingers back in, reaching deeper, stretching her wider. He curled them the same way he had his tongue, dragging against that spot that made her see stars. She could feel his breath on her but not his mouth and she writhed in frustration.
“What's wrong, Swan?” he asked, a teasing lilt to his voice but it was obscured by the rough tenor that betrayed his desire. “Is that not what you want?”
“I already told you what I want!” she snapped, lifting her hips towards his face but he pulled back.
“Tell me again,” he rasped. Asshole, she thought, she glanced down at him and saw the darkness in his eyes, the blue almost completely swallowed by black, his lips swollen and damp. He was pleading, looking nearly as on edge as she was.
“I want your mouth on me, Killian. I want you to make me come on your tongue. And then again on your cock.”
“Because I’m the only one who can make you fall apart every time, aren’t I? The only one who's ever been able to.” She never should have told him that.
“Then prove it!”
She saw the challenge in his eyes as they narrowed. His free hand grabbed hold of her thigh, wrapping around it and pulling her roughly against his mouth as he dove in, finding her clit with his tongue, flicking and circling and toying with it before pulling it into his mouth. He added a finger, thrusting faster, stretching her, filling her so perfectly as he continued to lick at her most sensitive spot.
“Yes!” she cried. “Oh, fuck, Killian, yes! Don’t stop.” She was grinding against his face, against his fingers, riding him faster and faster to her climax. He was relentless, pressing down on her hips to hold her steady as he pulled harder at her clit, curled his fingers, dragging them against her walls on every pass. The coil tightened in her belly, in her spine, every nerve in her body burning hotter until she was sure she would burst into flames.
“Make me come,” she gasped between moans and he rolled his tongue, pulling her clit harder into his mouth, sucking deeper and she broke, her back arching off the bed, toes curling into the mattress as her fingers gripped the pillow under her head.
It felt like ages before she had enough control of her limbs, enough of her senses back to look up at him - to even open her eyes. When she did, he was kneeling at the end of the bed, eyes hooded and hand stroking lightly at his cock, smearing her wetness over it as he watched her.
“I love watching you come,” he said, voice low and strained. He moved to fall over her but she stopped him, putting her foot on his chest. He raised an eyebrow and she smirked.
“You’re not the only one who likes to watch,” she told him and felt the heat of his desire wash over her as he gripped himself tighter, his hand pumping over his generous length.
Emma cocked her head as she took him in, the clenching of his jaw, the tauntness of his neck and shoulders, and the way the muscles flexed in his forearm as he brought himself closer to the edge. His head fell back for a moment as his hand sped up and she bit her lip. Fuck, he looked hot like this, lost in his own pleasure, mouth hanging open as small, desperate sounds escaped him.
His eyes found her again, raking over her from head to toe as he increased his pace, biting his lip. She rubbed her legs together, trying to soothe the ache that was already building between them. She saw his eyes flare and zero in on her center.
“Bloody hell, Emma,” he groaned. “Please.”
“Please what?” she asked and she smirked as his eyes darkened. “Tell me what you want,” she taunted, turning his own game against him.
He growled before crawling up the bed, pulling her legs apart and pushing himself between them. She gasped when she felt the tip of him brush through her folds. He leaned over her, caging her in with his arms as he brought his face within breathing distance of her own, speaking his next words against her lips.
“I want to bury myself inside you. Push my cock deep into your cunt until you cry out like you always do when I fill you up just the way you like.” She gasped into his mouth, back arching with every teasing, shallow thrust of his hips, his cock nudging at her clit and sending shockwaves coursing through her. He brought his hand to her breast, palming it, rolling her nipple under it until it was hard, craving more. Fuck. Why did she think she could beat him at this game? “Is that what you want to hear?” he asked, catching her bottom lip between his teeth and dragging them slowly over it before moving to her jaw.
“Yes,” she moaned, grabbing hold of his hip, pulling him closer. “Fucking do it already,” she demanded and he didn’t even laugh, didn’t revel in his victory which told her that he was just as desperate as she was. He took himself in hand, finding her entrance and slid in with one firm stroke.
“So wet,” he gasped, head falling to her chest. “So tight.”
She pushed her hips up against him, letting him slip even deeper and he took the hint, pulling back only to thrust back in hard and fast and so fucking deep. She held on to his shoulders as he rutted against her, a series of grunts and gasps leaving him as he moved inside of her, his pace fast, rough, almost sloppy. She revelled in it, in his desperation and naked want for her.
She could tell he was close, the cries falling from his lips coming faster, his thrusts matching them. She felt the sweat on his back, the strain of his muscles as he raced towards that edge. She was close too. The deep, powerful thrusts hitting a spot inside of her that always sent her careening towards her peak. She brought her hand down between them, circling at her clit in time with the pounding of his hips.
“Fuck,” he breathed against her and she didn’t know if it was because of his own pleasure or the thought of her touching herself. She didn’t care though as he increased his pace, arm sliding around her back, hand gripping her shoulder so hard she was sure he’d leave bruises - wouldn’t that be fun to explain on the red carpet - and she could tell he was nearly there.
He pushed her hand away, his own fingers taking over, his thumb pressing and circling so hard it was almost painful. She let out a shocked cry as she felt herself racing towards her orgasm, no longer in control, the sensation overwhelming. She gasped into his ear, her words choking on her cries. “I want you to come.”
He groaned, hand snapping to the mattress beside her, fisting in the sheets as he drove into her at a breakneck pace before crying out against her neck. He pressed down on her clit, scraping at it as he spilled himself inside of her and she jerked, scream catching in her throat as her body convulsed, her orgasm crashing over her hard and fast and sudden. He kept his hand there and the pressure, the sting of it kept the waves coursing through her, aftershocks pulsing through her endlessly until he finally released her, stroking her gently, soothingly as he eased her down.
His arms shook with the strain of holding his weight off of her and he slowly rolled over, collapsing on his side. Still trembling, she turned her head so she could look at him, always loving the way his face looked after he came, eyes closed, brow pulled up, mouth open - an expression of blissful anguish. She reached out, stroking his cheek with the back of her hand and then brushing her thumb over his bottom lip.
He caught her hand, kissed her palm though panting breaths. His eyes fluttered open, smiling at her sweetly at first and then with increasing smugness.
“What?”
He reached out, traced her jaw with his thumb. “Darling you are going to look thoroughly fucked walking down that red carpet.”
Right on cue, there was a banging at their door. “Emma! You’re late! You have two seconds to get your ass dressed and out this door before I come in and drag you out,” Mary Margaret warned. Emma groaned and Killian laughed.
“Well, at least she’s started asking before using her key,” he shrugged. Yes, she’d only made that mistake once and she’d gotten more of an eyeful of Killian than she’d ever wanted. Emma rolled out of bed, Killian’s laughter still following her as she pulled on a bra and underwear before throwing her sweats on. She went to open the door, Killian throwing the sheet over his hips.
Mary Margaret stood on the other side, eyes raised to the ceiling before she looked down, making sure she wouldn’t be seeing a naked Killian again. She looked Emma over from head to toe and then glanced back at where Killian was laying in the bed behind her.
“Oh, for God's sake,” she groaned. “You do realise we need to be at the Staples Center in three hours and we were supposed to be at hair and makeup twenty minutes ago.”
“Can’t I just do that on my own?” she whined. “Just throw on some mascara and some lipstick and maybe a dress I can actually move in?”
Mary Margaret took a deep, centering yoga breath. “Emma. You are going to walk on stage in front of thousands of people. This will be broadcast world wide. You are not going to slap some makeup on your face and wear your damn jeans.”
“I didn’t say my jeans.”
“This is serious,” she said, taking her hands, her tone softer now. “Emma, your music has reached so many people, touched so many lives. And now people want to thank you for it, want to congratulate you for it with the biggest honour you can recieve in this business.”
Emma looked down, a bit abashed. “Okay.”
“Good. So show some goddamn respect and let’s go doll you up!” Emma’s mouth fell open, eyes snapping to her friend. Had she been tricked? She’d been tricked. Damn Mary Margaret.
After hours of being poked and prodded in a much less pleasant way than earlier, Emma was released from the studio. She had to admit, she looked pretty damn good. Her dress was a dark, midnight blue that brought out her skin tone and hugged her shape (probably enhanced it if she was being honest). Her makeup was flawless but thankfully not heavy and overdone like she’d feared. Her hair, however, had refused to lose that slight madness, that slight wildness that screamed that she had been completely and thoroughly fucked. She smiled a little secret smile at the idea.
“I told you,” Mary Margaret said as she, Ruby and Belle all took a moment to complete a few finishing touches before heading out the door. There were limos waiting outside, the guys already dressed and ready to go. They probably even had time for a nap, Emma begrudged them. And a snack, she thought as her stomach growled.
Belle had planned out the limos strategically. Graham, David, Liam and herself were in one, Ruby and Mary Margaret in another. Emma and Killian had been specifically instructed to show up in a third limo, last of the three to arrive. Belle said they needed to play up their relationship for the tour and the publicity. And they were nominated together.
Emma wasn’t thrilled about using her relationship for fame but she did like that she’d have Killian beside her all night, there holding her hand and making sure she didn’t panic and freeze up in front of everyone. Or trip in the stupid heels Belle had picked out.
Graham and David popped out of the car to say hello to Mary Margaret and Ruby. David took Mary Margaret’s hand, twirling her around like a princess as he showered her with compliments and she giggled like a schoolgirl. Graham, a man of few words, took one look at Ruby and his jaw dropped, a breathless ‘wow’ escaping him. Ruby smirked, grabbing him by his tie and pressing her lips to his. The dazed look on his face when she pulled away and wiped the lipstick off his face was priceless.
Killian stepped out, dressed in a dark blue suit that made his eyes look even brighter, as though that were even possible. His hair was combed neatly and his beard was trimmed. Emma’s jaw practically dropped when she saw him. In all the months they’d been together now, she’d never seen him dressed up like this. He looked good. She smirked as she watched his eyes rake over her, his tongue coming out to wet his bottom lip.
“Swan,” he said, reaching his hand out for her. She took it, letting him help her into the car. She slid over and he followed her in. Before the door could be shut though, Belle stopped it, one hand on the frame. She shot Killian a death glare.
“If she shows up with even one hair out of place, one smudge of lipstick on either of you, I will murder you myself. Do you hear me?” It should have been funny, but both of them swallowed, nodding, worried she might follow through on her threat. “Good,” she said, her stare still hard. “See you there.”
The door shut and Killian turned to her as the car pulled away. He smiled at her, reaching into his jacket pocket. “I got you something,” he said. Emma cocked her head to see what it might be. He pulled out a little paper bag, the waxy kind. It had been folded at the end to keep it sealed. He handed it to her and Emma opened it, the smell hitting her first before she saw what was inside and her mouth watered.
“I love you,” she said and he laughed. He’d brought her a freaking bear claw. She took a bite, making sure not to spill any on her dress and chewed gratefully. She loved that he knew she’d be starving, that he’d thought to stop at a bakery somewhere to pick this up. She loved when he did this kind of thing, the little gestures to show he cared.
She slid across the seat, tucking herself under his arm and leaning against him as she munched on her snack, even offering him a bite at one point - that was how thankful she was. She liked these moments, the quiet ones. Sure, they were on their way to a huge, worldwide event, but for right now it was just the two of them.
It was rare now that they had the chance to just sit and cuddle and feel normal. Their lives had become so hectic, but through it all, Killian had been there, had kept her feeling safe, had kept her feeling human even when she thought the world would overwhelm her. She was happy. Despite the madness of her new life, she was happier than she’d ever been. Her family had grown, she had a man she loved and who loved her in a way she hadn’t believed she’d ever deserve. She lay her head back on his shoulder, looking at him and wondering how she’d gotten so lucky.
“What, Love?” he asked, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Emma only smiled, reaching up with her non-bearclaw-occupied hand and cupping the back of his neck, pulling his lips down over her own. She didn’t know why it had taken her so long to let him in, but as he slanted his lips over hers, bearclaw forgotten, she was damn happy that he’d waited, happy that she’d seen the light before she let him slip through her fingers. She pulled him closer, holding on tighter. She didn’t plan on ever letting go.
Belle took one look at them when they stepped out of the limo and joined their friends on the carpet. Her eyes panned over the two of them before rolling skyward, a heavy sigh leaving her.
“Seriously?”
#of cars and bars#captain swan#cs fanfic#captain swan fanfic#cs fanfiction#cs smut#captain swan smut#cs au#captain swan au#cs angst#captain swan angst#thank you everyone!
24 notes
·
View notes
Text
Taylor Swift on "Lover" and haters
You might say Taylor Swift's happy place is at the piano in her Nashville home. "There have been so many songs that were written at this piano," she said.
"And it's often the middle of the night?" asked correspondent Tracy Smith.
"It's usually in the middle of the night," she replied. "Or if I'm trying to get to sleep and I can't and then I get an idea. And I'm, like, 'Well, I'm not tired anyway!' And then kind of wander over here."
It's kind of a rare sight, not just because "Sunday Morning" was there ("I haven't serenaded someone in a while, hope you know that!"), but because, for the moment, Taylor Swift was actually sitting still.
I promise that you'll never find another like Me-e-e, Ooh ooh ooh ooh I'm the only one of me Baby, that's the fun of me – "Me!" by Taylor Swift, Joel Little and Brendon Urie
And there never really has been another like Taylor Swift. After only 13 years in the business, she's become a musical force of nature, with an armload of #1 hits, more Grammy Awards than The Rolling Stones, and (according to Forbes) the distinction of being the highest-paid celebrity on the planet.
By any measure, she's an amazing young woman. But there were times, she says, that being young, and a woman, worked against her.
"You're always gonna have people going, 'Did she write all her own songs?'" she said. "Talking about your personal life, talking about your dating life.
"There's a different vocabulary for men and women in the music industry, right?"
"Gimme an example," asked correspondent Tracy Smith.
"Okay. A man does something, it's 'strategic'; a woman does the same thing, it's 'calculated.' A man is allowed to 'react'; a woman can only 'over-react.'"
And it seems her usual reaction is to get to work. Swift writes or co-writes all of her songs. And what's more, her music videos are all her vision, from the pastel wonderland in "Me!"…to the giant dollhouse in her latest video, "Lover."
That's also the title of her critically-acclaimed new studio album, her seventh. She wrote "Lover" on her piano at home, and polished it up in the studio. And once she recorded the music, Swift (accompanied by and her cats) went to Hollywood to make the music video, and she invited Smith along to watch.
There's a love story here, and like a lot of Swift's work, it's an echo of her real life.
Born in Reading, Pennsylvania, Swift discovered her love for music as a toddler. She set her sights on a career in country music, and eventually her parents and younger brother moved to Nashville to help her do it.
"My brother's a real bro for doing that," Swift said.
"Yeah, they all upended their lives," Smith said.
"For sure."
"It worked out well!"
"Yeah, I buy 'em lots of presents," she laughed.
The rest reads like a fantasy: Swift became a country music phenomenon, and, in the last few years, a pop icon. But the superstar is, by her own admission, as emotionally fragile as any other 20-something, "I'm still someone who is the first to apologize when I'm wrong," she said. "But I think I'm better at standing up for myself when I've been wronged. So, that's something that I think also comes with growing up."
Which brings us to Scooter Braun. Earlier this summer, Braun, a talent agent with whom Swift says she has a contentious relationship, acquired the rights to her previous recordings – her masters – when his company bought Scott Borchetta's Big Machine Label Group for a reported $300 million. Borchetta, who worked with Swift for years, says she and those close to her (including her dad, who was an investor), knew about the deal in advance, and that Swift had previously been offered the chance to buy her own masters.
She remembers it differently, and told Smith she didn't see it coming: "I found out when it was online, like, when it hit the news."
"Nobody in your inner circle knew?" Smith asked.,
"Nobody knew."
"And you didn't smell it?"
"No. I knew he would sell my music; I knew he would do that. I couldn't believe who he sold it to, because we've had endless conversations about Scooter Braun. And he has 300 million reasons to conveniently forget those conversations."
With the sale of the masters to her first six albums, there has been speculation that Swift might re-record her back catalog, in order to control the recordings of her songs.
Smith asked, "Might you do that?"
"Oh, yeah," Swift replied.
"That's a plan?"
"Yeah, absolutely!"
Scooter Braun may not agree with her side of the story, but he did reach out to Swift in a tweet last week, calling her new album "brilliant."
It's clear that Swift wants to control her music: When it's time to release one of her new songs, she does it personally, talking to her fans live on Instagram. This personal connection has earned her a loyal following. But her openness comes at price: She's followed just about everywhere she goes these days, by people who are crazy about her – or just plain crazy.
Smith asked, "Where is home for you now?"
"It's a very good question," she said. "I try not to ever really say where I am the most, because since all my addresses are on the internet, people tend to show up uninvited. Like, you know, dudes that think we have an imaginary marriage."
"And you mentioned that you keep wound dressing with you?"
"Yeah. I've had a lot of stalkers show up to the house, armed. So, we have to think that way."
And she's come under attack in other ways: You need only glance at the tabloids to see some very well-publicized feuds, and she often hits back at her haters through her music. For instance, in "You Need to Calm Down," she calls out anti-gay protesters and online trolls:
You are somebody that we don't know But you're comin' at my friends like a missile Why are you mad? When you could be GLAAD? Sunshine on the street at the parade But you would rather be in the dark ages …
Control your urges to scream about all the people you hate 'Cause shade never made anybody less gay – "You Need to Calm Down" by Taylor Swift and Joel Little
Smith asked, "I'm curious, because I feel like almost every album, you have a song where you address the haters, at least one song. Sometimes more than one song."
"I probably do have that habit. I imagine that I might have that habit, yeah."
"Why is that? Why sing to the haters?"
"Well, when they stop coming for me, I will stop singing to them," Swift replied. "You know, people go on and on about, like, you have to forgive and forget to move past something. No, you don't. You don't have to forgive and you don't have to forget to move on. You can move on without any of those things happening. You just become indifferent, and then you move on."
"Do you believe in forgiveness?"
"Yes, absolutely, like, for people that are important in your life who have added, you know, who have enriched your life and made it better, and also there has been some struggle and some bad stuff, too. But I think that, you know, if something's toxic and it's only ever really been that, what are you gonna do?"
"Just move on?"
"Just move on. It's fine."
Taylor Swift's music is always personal, sometimes intensely so. "There's one song on the album called 'Soon You'll Get Better' that it's, I can't even really hear. I can't even listen to it."
She won't talk specifically about her inspiration, but it comes at a time when her mother Andrea, who was battling cancer, suffered a relapse.
Swift said, "It's really interesting because I don't think I have written a song quite like that before. And it's just sort of, like, it's just a tough one."
"I can imagine. But I can also tell you, having listened to it, that it's universal."
"It's just not something that we deal with until we have to, until we see it, until we experience it, until someone close to us is going through something like that. And so, writing about it was really emotional. And I'm just gonna stop talking about it now."
She's more comfortable plunging into her work. On the Hollywood set, a large glass tank will become a symbolic fish bowl in the "Lover" music video.
"I very oftentimes remark that my life is like a fish bowl, and that, like, if I were to, like, fall in love, you know, somebody's choosing to be in that fish bowl with me. To jump into the fish bowl with me and live in that world just with me – it's not as depressing as it sounds, I promise! It's just symbolic!"
Talk about fish bowls: she's been dating British actor Joe Alwyn for three years. Seems he's up for a swim.
At the moment, Swift is, well, fully immersed in today. Beyond that, she says she doesn't know … and doesn't really want to.
Smith asked her, "Do you think about, you know, 'What am I gonna do in 20, 30 years?'"
"No, 'cause that puts me into what I call a panic spiral," Swift replied. "Like, I cannot do that. I've never been able to do that."
Why? "It just freaks me out. When I zoom out too far, I freak out. Do I know where I'm gonna be or even wanna be in 20 years? Absolutely not. Like, not taking a single day for granted."
"So, how far ahead do you look?"
"Six months. Just 'cause I have to plan shows and stuff. But I don't know what I'll do after this album. And I think that's great. I tell myself, like, it's actually really ungrateful to just assume that you have 20 years. Like, be stoked that you have today."
(x)
252 notes
·
View notes
Photo
Ghost: Tobias finally revealed himself! From MyRock n°57; March/April issue; a FR->EN translation.
Enjoy a 2 page exclusiv interview fully translated from french to english; 3 full-page pics by Amanda Demme and a bitter live report of Zénith de Paris ritual (under the cut at the end of the post)! Note that I’m not perfectly bilingual so any of you who have a better english lvl than me are free to correct any mistake I could have done!
Tobias, master of the Forge
(Translation Note: Yes, we are french and we like dumb puns. So yass, he leads this band, thx)
Few hours before his appearance at Zénith de Paris, Tobias Forge has opened his lodge’s door to us. Decontracted and unmasked, the autoproclamed Ghost’s spokesperson frankly discuss about the band news and about his sudden notoriety.
Interview by Thomas Mafrouche; photos by Amanda Demme.
“In the colllective mind, doing metal is wearing black and shouting in a mic. People believe it’s easy when it’s a music requiring a lot of work and precision.” Tobias Forge
The last time we saw you at Zénith de Paris it was for Slayer and Mastodon’s opening. Tonight, you are the headline and your show is full. You must feel very proud! Tobias Forge: Oh I’m fulfilled! It’s fantastic! I’m very happy with what is happening. Not for the success, but because it allows me to finally have the means to do shows of the scope I always wanted. I always wished Ghost to be big, that our concerts dazzle! There’s nothing which annoyed me more than when you look small on a stage. It’s the case during some opening, or festivals prestations, when we have to play during day time... Ghost isn’t a band built for small stages. It’s a full experience, the spectator must imperatively get what’s coming! But, it’s a monstrous organisation, with a lot of logistical problems to solve beforehand. The more people there are involved in this adventure, the more risks there are for the machine to derailed. But, well, it’s the challenge to achieve when you bring a choir of 40 nuns on stage (laugh). In the end, what matter is that the spectator enjoy it, that they spend a good and phenomenous evening with us.
It is said that you are scrupulous about each detail, even the lights. Is that true? T.F.: Yes... I’m a “control freak”, I must admit it. (laughs) But this hunger for perfection, it’s also what brought me here tonight. This thirst for controling everything, it also came from the fact I’ve often been right by the past, but I was often dismissed... I have long tried to fight against this facet and to let people speak. And in these cases, it often narrowly avoided a catastrophe. So now I assume it. It pisses me off to have become a control maniac, but I’m used to it now, because it’s what’s best for Ghost, and thus, for the public...
Influenced by Candlemass & Metallica
To open your concerts for this tour, you have chosen your fellow countrymen from Candlemass. You’re fan, we guess? T.F.: I’ve been listening to them since I’m eight! They are my heroes! Their album Tales of Creation is one of my cult record! A decade ago, I had the chance to meet them and today we became very good friends. We are often seeing each others, our wifes and children are getting along pretty well too. Candlemass, it’s family! Their music had a direct impact on my way to compose. Plus, there’s all the imagery! I’m not talking about costumes, but the typography and the biblical visuals which always had greatly influenced me. I’ll even confess you something: The first album of Ghost, Opus Eponymous, was written for Messiah Marcolin’s voice [2nd singer of Candlemass, Redaction Note]. At the time, I didn’t wanted to be the singer of Ghost. Then I asked him to join us, but he had declined the invitation, saying he was busy with another project. So, when time has come to sing, I did it with his head voice. Last year, musicians from Candlemass also supported me on stage during Polar Music Prize’s ceremony [Swedish equivalent of Victoires de la Musique, but with guitars, RN (T.N: ouch, it’s a nice shot in our national music award ceremony face, since they never reward rock/metal artists... So yeah, national sized Grammy’s ceremony)]. We covered “Enter Sandman” by Metallica, in front of Sweden’s King and Queen. Robert Trujillo an Lars Ulrich were there as well. It’s an unforgatable memory! My wife and I, we even had dinner with one of Sweden’s princesses, after the ceremony.
Would the princess of Sweden be a metalhead?! T.F.: I won’t go this far, no (laughs). But she was very sociable, we even toasted. It was exquisite!
“Now, I will represent Ghost unmasked. Tobias Forge will be the official interlocutor, the same way George Lucas was the unique spokesman of Star Wars.” Tobias Forge
Speaking of Metallica, you’ll open for them at Stade de France, on May 12th. There, as well, it’s consecration! T.F.: It’s crazy! I’m going to tell you a funny anecdote. I’m not passionate about football, but it turns out that I was in Paris in 1998, during the World Cup. I wasn’t at Stade de France, but I saw pictures in the city, on big screens. And, at this moment, when I saw the final, that you amazingly won, I told myself that one day, I will play in Stade de France as well. It took me 21 years, but this day finally has come! this is proof that you have to believe in your dreams!
Metallica, it’s an institution for many people. For you as well? T.F.: There isn’t a superlativ strong enough to say how much I love these guys! Especially since they became friends. It’s an honour to have been chosen to support them on stage. Notably because they’re one of the reasons which pushed me to do music.
Which is your favorite album? T.F.: Ouch, that’s not easy! From a strictly personnal point of view, I would say Ride the Lightning and Master of Puppets. But from a professional one, as a composer, musician and producer, it’s clearly the Black Album. It’s their best record, the most complete. Reaching this level of perfection, it’s any musician’s dream. Everything is here, the writing is bold, with a lot of character, and the producing is impeccable. I know it’s a record which make polemic amongst purists, but objectively, it’s one of these albums which had contributed to forge the metal we know today. In the colllective mind, doing metal is wearing black and shouting in a mic. People believe it’s easy, when it’s a music requiring a lot of work and precision. The Black Album, it’s the result of a huge amount of work, it’s months and months of work!
Papa Emeritus vs Darth Vader
The Black Album is also the record of notoriety, the one which propulsed Metallica with the general/mainstream public. This exposure, it’s something you’re living since the release of Prequelle. Recently, your appearance in the TV show Quotidien created a conflict amongst fans. To have a guitar solo cut during a live stream, is it the price to pay when a metal band enter the great mediatical circus? T.F.: Of course, it’s a sacrifice to do. Let’s say that, with Ghost, our relations with medias hasn’t always been good. I long refused to play their game. For a long time, these mainstream televisions had asked for interviewing Papa Emeritus. I always opposed them a categorical no. You can’t interview Papa Emeritus, the same way you can’t interview Darth Vader. You can meet James Earl Jones, who borrow him his voice, or the actor David Prowse. But Darth Vader, nobody can speak to him. It’s the same for Papa Emeritus. Today, in order to reach the next level, it’s time to play the game, but in our way. Since I can’t relate on Papa Emeritus to do the job, I accepted to do this interview unmasked. The problem is that journalists hadn’t the necessary keys in hands to understand Ghost. Of course, I’m not talking about you, because rock press know very well what we are and who we are. You tell me about Candlemass, about Metallica... It’s something else. You, you know your subject. Mainstream medias, them, what’s interesting them is to make the buzz, it’s to have a bone to gnaw. Sometimes, I wonder why I accepted to do such mediatical things... It’s not like I needed them, moreover my concerts are full! But, well, I decided that now, I will represent Ghost unmasked. Tobias Forge will be the official interlocutor, the same way George Lucas was the unique spokesman of Star Wars. The person you have in front of you today, it’s kind of Ghost’s director.
Otherwise, what are the future projects for Ghost? T.F.: There will be a release before the end of the year, but it will not be an EP of covers like we often did so far. It will be something else, but it’s not done and I can’t tell you about it yet. But I recorded some things... The rest of the year, I will spend it on the road, it will be very long, with, notably, dates in South America. I scheduled to go in studio early next year, to realease an album in 2020. You have to strike while the iron is hot!
(Under the cut you’ll find a semi-bitter live report. Take this line as a trigger warning maybe...?)
Tobias Forge at Zénith?
It took 4 albums, 2 EP and a lawsuit before Tobias Forge, Ghost’s mastermind, offer to the french public an indoor show worthy of the name. The rendez vous is written down for early february, at Zénith de Paris.
Live report by: Roseline Artal.
6 000 persons
Concert: 3/5
Public: 3/5
We was told the show in the capital is full of capacity, but some stands are inaccessible and guarded by vigils. It’s certainly to allow everybody to be dazzled that the band decided to not fill the venue at its maximum capacity, but it’s a shame for those who would have liked to be part of the lucky ones. After a Cigale and an Olympia much comparable to festivals prestations, Ghost decided to put every efforts here. Finally! Candlemass, coming from Sweden, open the ball, remaining on the very front of the stage. Songs flow, some blunders can be heard, notably when the singer Johan Längqvist mix up “A Sorcerer’s Pledge” and “Solitude”, but the crowd seems to appreciate. They rise their fists up in the air when needed, some heads are banging here and there, and we notice a semblance of circle pit down in the front right. However, it’s hard to remain enthusiastic very long in front of the relatively flat performance. Musicians are playing the game and are having fun, which is something at least.
A cathedral stage It’s almost 9 p.m when lights turn off and the black curtains disappear, reaveling the magnificent stained glasses awning over imposing stairs. Such ornated, the Zénith stage is standing out! It’s with “Ashes”, perfect for an appetizer, Ghost offert themselves to their audience, but it’s “Ritual” which receive all suffrages on this show begining. As for “Devil Church”, it end on a duel between guitarists. When “Miasma” first notes resonnate, one question is on everybody lips: “Will Papa Nihil show himself?”. And the answer is yes, for our greatest pleasure. “Jigolo Har Megiddo” is beautifully interpreted acoustically, allowing us to rest down our ears for a short time. Indeed, the sound is unbearable, at least without appropriated protections. Fortunatelly, the view isn’t unpleasant, thanks to a Tobias Forge of many personnalities as funny as worrying.
Papa Emeritus as a mafiosi (well, it’s obviously a confusion between Papa and Cardinal from the reporter here, I’ll correct it for the rest of this paragraphe, T.N) It’s well and truly the last album which is highlighted tonight, which is appreciated by fans. They are indeed ready to sing in unison and turn on there phone on “Life Eternal”, while Cardinal Copia play the romantic mafiosi, all in white dressed, thus marking an end to the first act. 15 minutes of break are offered, without a reason being given. Indeed, when the entract ends, the setting hadn’t change and musicians are wearing the same costumes. What if Tobias Forge became the new Axl Rose with his manic to leave the stage for ages with no valid reason? We’re picky, but these minutes could have been used to play other titles, such as the amazing “Elizabeth” which has disapeared from the setlist for years now... Nothing better than “Year Zero” sing by everyone and the cover of Rocky Erikson’s “If You Have Ghost” in order to put us in a good mood. However, the band found a way to ruin it all by dragging the members presentation out for long minutes. What a shame. “Dance Macabre” and “Square Hammer”, which we all keep loving during live, reconcil us with the swedes, then, without surprise, we’re leaving on “Monstrance Clock”, an ode to femal pleasure. When the lights turn back on, we can’t help but thinking this show was both a success and a disappointment notably due to useless dead calm.
#the band ghost#tobias forge#interview#cardinal copia#Nameless Ghouls#a pale tour named death#prequelle#MyRock#translation#scan
661 notes
·
View notes
Text
Glee Memories: 1x6 Vitamin D
A long, long time ago, as Glee was approaching graduation in Season 3, I found myself nostalgic with some rare free time on my hands. So I decided to rewatch the series from the beginning and jot down some memories, discrepancies that have arisen since, fave quotes, tally solos - all that good stuff, strictly for shits and giggles.
8 years later (eek!) and once more I find myself with an unexpected abundance of free time. With so many revisiting or being newly introduced to the show between binge watching during Quarantine and all the tragedy that has surrounded the show since it went off the air, I figured I’d finish what I started. And by finish, I mean go through the end of S3. Cause I truly cannot acknowledge what happened after that. Except for 5B.
Kicking this off by reposting the first 15 episodes I already went through. Enjoy!
1x6 Vitamin D Mr. Schue is worried cause the Glee club is being lazy and complacent. First time and still true until Sue came along to help the club.
Mmmmkay. And now Mercedes starts dressing kinda funky. Oh goody. :/
Ugh. Listen, I have adored Matthew Morrison since I saw him in Hairspray 10 years ago, but it’s still not at all appealing when he tries to lick that mustard off his own chin.
“I will hold my tongue no further.”
”You have to remember something: we’re dealing with children. They need to be terrified. It’s like mother’s milk to them. Without it, their bones won’t grow properly.”
“Ellen, that blouse is just insane.”
”I don’t understand how lightening is in competition with an above ground swimming pool”
BOYS V. GIRLS FOR THE FIRST TIME! <3
“Okay, split up: guys on the right side, girls on the left side…Kurt” *gestures for him to join the boys, not the girls* Kurt looks soooo pissed. And is such a baby-faced nugget!
A Mash-Up was just defined and used for the first time.
”We’re planning on smacking them down like the hand of God” yaaaaay, Sue’s Journal entries! I miss those. Hey, did she ever get that hovercraft she was working towards?
”Let me be frank: your husband is hiding his kielbasa in a Hickory Farms gift basket that doesn’t belong to you.”
”I’ve always thought the desire to procreate showed deep personal weakness. Me? Never wanted kids. Don’t have the time, don’t have the uterus.” #oops
“I think you should both pack up and move out of the district. Unless you wanna lose your man to a mentally ill ginger pygmy with eyes like a bush baby”
the Matthew Morrison mustard licking is even less appealing in slow motion. Ew.
Terri just wiped Emma’s mug off with her own spit. Even if you didn’t have OCD, that is not right.
“But you’re not a nurse. You don’t have any training…” “Oh please, Will – it’s a public school.”
Wait…Mr. Schue seems to be teaching music theory? WTF? Has this happened before? Since?
“She freaks me out in a Swim Fan kinda way”
“But her body’s smokin’…if you’re not into boobs” Finn re: Rachel
I don’t think I ever caught this before – Finn is rubbing BioFreeze on his legs and accidentally scratches near his eye…and you can see the effect set in and then he spazzes out. Ha! #BlessFinnsHeart
“My mom says I’m stretched too thin so I gave up homework but that didn’t help” #BlessFinnsHeart
“Puck, with respect, you’re more helpful when you don’t contribute”
“Where’s Quinn?” “Probably down at the mall looking for elastic waistbands”
“Let’s do the number and then build a house for Habitat for Humanity” oh, Finn on ‘vitamin d’. He has the mind of a child. Especially during this performance. Holy crap!
“No one at Glee is gonna judge you.” Oh, that will change Rachel.
Hahahaha, Quinn drew pornographic pictures of Rachel on the bathroom walls. I miss when Quinn hated Rachel. Just a little bit. Cause she did it so well and right now it would please my soul to see some of that.
Poor Howard Bamboo is so terrified of Terri and just pitiful. I just want to hug him and tell him to stand up to her! :(
“I see em’ together all the time – laughing, talking…all the stuff she never does with me”
Terri’s office looks like it’s the same as Emma’s…
“I am not built to work 5 days a week”
“I’ve been thinkin’ maybe that if you and I started seein’ each other on the side it might kinda cancel their thing out”
“She doesn’t like to be touched…by me.”
“Look at the two of us. You pregnant and me with psoriasus and one testicle that won’t descend.”
“Though I’ve been grouped with the boys, my allegiance still remains with you ladies. They declined my offer to do their hair in cornrows and all my artistic decisions have been derioted as ‘too costly’ because they involve several varieties of exotic bird feathers.”
Rachel’s goal is a Grammy, not a Tony. #oops
smack-talking Finn is a giant douche. Ugh.
“You being here is not good for our marriage.” “Spending time together is not good for our marriage?” She has a point…
“A lot of ants on the sidewalk today.” *long uncomfortable silence* “Pretty late in the season for that.”
oh, Ken proposing. I hated you from the first moment I laid eyes on you.
“Look, Emma, I know our relationship hasn’t been perfect. You won’t ride in my car. I can’t touch you above the wrist. Remember you cried for an hour that one time my elbow accidentally brushed by your breast? But I think about you all day long. I kiss that picture of us at the State Fair every night before I go to sleep. Emma Pillsbury, this is not an engagement ring – no, I mean it is, but it’s more than that. It’s a promise. Look, Emma, I know you have this thing about being clean. Now I can’t promise to pick up my underwear or squeegee the shower door, but I can promise to keep your life clean of sadness and loneliness and any other dark clouds that might float into it. It’s cubic zirconia. I know how effected you were by Blood Diamond.”
“Thankyousomuch,itreallyisapleasure.Whiletheboyschoseaselectionofsongsthatcastaneyeinwardontheirresponsiblelifechoicesandsexualhungeroftoday’smodernteens,wehavechosenaselectionofsongsthatspeakstothenationasawholeduringthesetroublingtimesfilledwitheconomicuncertaintyandunbridledsocialwoebecauseifthere’stwothingsAmericaneedsrightnow,thatissunshineandoptimism.” *awkward pause and Rachel finally breathes* “Also angels.” OMG. Maybe my favorite Rachel Berry moment ever.
Also, this was one of my fave musical moments (songs, singers, choreography) of all of Season One. Heather Morris is gangsta on this, dancing like she’s on crack. OMG. I love it. Every one of these girls is such a great dancer.
“Can you um…can you think of any other options I might have?” “Is that a reason to marry someone?” “That’s not what I’m asking.” See, Glee still does this – these weird conversations that are clearly about something else, but never really get finished and things are left in limbo but as if the akward moment didn’t happen, so I think I’m losing my mind when I look for the continuity….ugh. Headache. What just happened?
“You have no chance with my husband. Do I make myself clear? You might think there’s some kind of competition going on with you and I, but that’s like saying that a nail is competing with a hammer.”
“Do yourself a favor, honey. Marry Ken Tanaka. Oh sure, he’s dumb like sand, and his fondue pot of nationalities is gonna open your kids up to a host of genetic diseases…but he’s kind, and he’s generous. And he’s available.” I don’t like Terri but….truth.com right there.
“I need to talk to you, about the baby” “Is everything ok? You’re not having it right now, are you?” What?! No! Aren’t you supposed to be a nurse?”
“You want money from me?” “It’s gonna be your baby.” “Which means I’m gonna be paying the bills for 18 years – I think you can handle 9 months” Oh Terri.
Aw. My heart still breaks for Emma during this scene where she basically accepts Ken’s proposal and asks for a secret marriage. And says she doesn’t wanna spend the rest of her life alone. Gah – so sad! :(
“I don’t even remember performing.”
“I’m sorry for what I said the other day. For calling you contemptable and deplorable” “Ah, that’s ok. I didn’t even know what those words meant.” #BlessFinnsHeart
“My goals are too selfish.” Rachel. Why did you forget that lesson?
Howard Bamboo got arrested on suspicion of running a meth lab. Ha!
“You are oblivious to consequences” A running theme of this show.
oh Glee. Again with the weird situations…neither Will nor Emma even preTENded to be happy about her marrying Ken when she told him. How does neither of them address it? What just happened?
I remember the first time I saw this episode and I loved that Rachel Berry had changed to being a team player and making her goal about winning sectionals with the team. That didn’t last long. SOLOS: Finn (1), Artie (1), Rachel (1) MERCEDES TAKES THE GLORY NOTE: 2nd time
3 notes
·
View notes
Photo
Chapter 14 - Korea Or Canada Or Maybe Taiwan
Seattle Washington, December 7 1989
(Andi is 19, Chris is 25)
ANDI: "...boiler room song? Chris what the - ?" I giggle as I stand in the doorway to the little water heater closet where Chris was tapping different spots with his drum sticks on the large water heater.
"It fuckin' sounds cool right?" Chris says excitedly looking back at me for a second, then continues on tapping various spots on the water heater again.
Xana and I had moved in with Chris and Andy about a year ago, since we practically spent every single second together. Aside from the few times that I had time slipped, the episodes seemed to have calmed down once more and I haven't had a slip since July. The last slip I had was when Chris gave me the jet black Gibson guitar and of course it was hard for me to believe that with his salary from working at Ray's Boathouse, that he could afford it. Needless to say that I did give him shit for it - well I sort of just told him not to do that again, and secretly loved how he did that for me.
Soundgarden has made a little headway with their first major label record, finally settling on signing with A&M records and releasing 'Louder Than Love' in September. They have a few gigs booked here in Seattle with 2 nights in Hollywood California at the Whiskey A Go-Go which is being recorded for a live video release, the record company's idea to help boost sales for Louder Than Love.
Soundgarden has also received a nomination for Best Metal Performance for Ultramega OK in the 1990 Grammy awards that are being held in this coming February. I think it's freaking amazing while Chris thinks it's just all about the record companies trying to capitalize on the so called 'Grunge movement' that has recently garnered attention here in Seattle, and that 'Ultramega Ok is not Metal at all, that they aren't even a Metal Band, but if the Grammys say they are then well...
I still think it's an honor and that he should be proud and he is... he just doesn't like the attention so much. Needless to say we aren't going to the ceremony since the Best Metal Performance category isn't even being televised and Chris is definitely not interested in going to the pre-show dinner and neither am I. That is definitely not our scene at all.
On a strange note, that I thought would never happen in a million years, Susan and I have actually become quite close as friends. There was a little hiccup in getting to know her for a while there, me being my usual apprehensive shy little self and somewhat feeling intimidated by Susan, but I really had nothing to worry about. It’s just business and that’s it.
"...shit I gotta get this on tape... babe, can you grab me that little recorder in my night stand drawer," Chris says stopping for just a moment and flipping his curls to look up at me with those gorgeous blue eyes full of excitement.
"Uh, yea," I say and turn to walk up the hallway to our bedroom.
It was a crazy miss mash of mine and Chris's guitars, posters plastered all over the walls of our favorite bands, my little shitty amp with the small little pre-amp that sits on top, his amps that he uses for Soundgarden shows, surrounding the room and one little corner that has all my 'girly stuff' that he calls it - which is just my makeup vanity and dresser. I quickly run over and open the nightstand drawer, pull out the little cassette recorder that I found for him in a thrift store downtown and then head back out of the bedroom, to see Chris tapping a tribal groove on the water heater and the walls surrounding it. As I click the record button, setting the recorder down by Chris as he continues, lost in the groove, the phone begins to ring. I then turn and head back down the hallway to the kitchen to pick up the phone, still hearing Chris from down the hall drumming away.
"Hello?"
"Hey sweetie... how are you?"
"Dad...?"
It had been just over 2 years since I heard from my father. The last time we spoke was when I had decided to move to Seattle for school and ever since then I had made a few attempts to call him, but he was always on the road and I could never catch him.
"...I just wanted to check in, see how my baby girl's doing," He says with a chuckle.
"Dad... daddy I'm uh, I'm doing great, really great. Oh my god I haven't..." I started to get emotional, my voice becoming a little shaky and I think he could tell.
"That's good sweetie... I'm actually in town, got a gig with the band. Our first west coast gig and so I thought I'd give you a call, see if you wanted to come out and see us," He says.
"Dad... I'd love to... when?" I ask, wiping away a tear. It was so good to hear his voice.
"It's tonight actually... I hope that's not too short of notice,"
"No, no daddy it's perfect," I giggle as Chris's tribal drumming sound bellows out from down the hallway.
"Alright... it's at The Mecca. We play at 9:00pm tonight, but um... you want to meet up earlier? Grab a bite or something? I'd love to catch up with my girl before the show, only if you want to of course," He says and I could hear a little nervousness from his end.
"Yea, yea dad that sounds great, um..." I trail off as Chris appears behind me who still has yet to put a shirt on, grabs a beer out of the fridge. He pops off the cap and takes a drink, glancing at me confused as I continue on the phone.
"... yea.. Chris... yea... yea... daddy... you sure...?"
Chris finishes his sip and raises his eyebrow at me as I look up at him while my father continues on the phone.
"...alright... bye daddy," I say and hang up.
"So... what was that all about?" Chris asks taking another sip of his beer.
"My uh... dad wants to meet up tonight. He's playing here in town and um... wants to meet up for food and to meet you before and wants me to see his band tonight and - " I begin explaining a little fast only because I was still so shocked that he called me.
"Andi... baby hey, slow down. What about tonight?" Chris asks setting his beer down on the counter, then flipping his curls out of his face to look at me.
"My dad wants to meet you tonight before his gig... or something," I say.
"Ok, where?"
"At The Mecca... he um... wants to get together before for some food and... to catch up I guess and meet you," I say still so nervous about the fact that my father wants to meet Chris.
"Ok baby, it's no big deal. I'll meet your dad. There's nothing to worry about," Chris chuckles. He places a kiss on my forehead and I touch my hand to his bare chest, then grabs his beer off the counter and heads back down the hallway. As I watch his beautiful tall frame, his curls swaying with his movements, I realize that I may just be over-reacting a little bit. He is the first boy - man that I've ever introduced to my father so I just hope it goes smoothly.
*****
The Mecca Bar and Grill, Seattle Washington
ANDI: It was later on that afternoon and Chris and I had arrived at the bar to meet up with my father for the first time. It's been so long since I have seen him, I wasn't sure if he would even look the same. I made sure I looked presentable enough in my skinny ripped jeans and my Doc Martens, my favorite Black Sabbath shirt and my leather jacket. Chris, looked especially good in his plain black T-shirt, baggy black shorts and Doc Martens like mine with his leather jacket and his dark curls down passed his shoulders, which were much tamer than usual. I'll never understand how he can wear shorts in the winter but he has always been on the warm side in terms of body temperature.
As Chris and I walk into The Mecca, Chris holding my hand with his fingers laced through, I suddenly see my father at the far side of the bar, sipping on a beer, chatting with a few of his bandmates as they set up for the night. He looks exactly the same. You would never guess he is 42 with his shaggy golden curls to his shoulders. He still seems so young with that same beard now so much fuller than before, but showing subtle hints of grey, and his tall 6 foot 5 frame that makes him seem larger than life.
They always say girls tend to pick men just like their fathers.
John O'Riden glances my way and smiles as he sees me for the first time since I left home to make Seattle my new one. I wish I could explain the mix of emotions inside me right now. I feel just like that little girl who was always excited to see him, always attached to his hip refusing to ever let go.
"How's my girl?" He smiles in his deep voice that I missed so much.
"Hey daddy," I say quietly as I let go of Chris's hand, my father embracing me in a big hug. His cologne that he always wore since I was a little girl filling my nostrils. After a few minutes of our embrace I slowly let go and he glances at me with that fatherly smile.
"You get taller? I swear you're so much taller now," He says and I giggle.
"No dad, I'm still the same as I always was," I say and he laughs. After a few moments, he glances up and sees Chris and I feel awkward that I totally forgot he was with me.
"Oh um, dad... this is Chris... Chris Cornell and um - "
"John O'Riden," My dad cuts me off as he extends his hand for Chris to shake.
"Nice to meet you um sir," Chris says and I'm completely taken aback by how formal he was.
"Sir? Oh fuck, don't call me that, call me John. Chris Cornell... I've heard a lot about you. Soundgarden right?"
Chris gives me a quick glance and then back to my father.
"Uh yea..." Chris trails off for a moment as they still shake hands.
"You've got that '70s Sabbath thing going on mixed with that punk style... it's good. A lot better than that fucking hair metal crap anyways,"
"Dad..."I say giving him a look.
"Lets grab a table, you drink Whiskey Chris?" He asks as he takes the last sip of his beer.
"Yea," Chris replies and glances down at me and I raise my eyebrow at him. My father turns to the bartender and orders a few shots of whiskey to bring to the table that was near the bar. We then follow him over to the table and he and Chris seem to continue on their conversation while we wait for our drinks.
As I sit beside Chris, my father opposite of me, they carry on, practically leaving me out of it which is fine - it just makes me sip on my whiskey a little faster than normal. At first it almost seemed like my father was trying to interrogate Chris but then as Chris was able to come back with answers confidently, my father let up a little bit and began talking about all things music. As we eat, they talked about both of their bands and how my father was actually a bit of a fan of Chris, citing how incredible his voice was. After finishing our food, as soon as the waitress takes away our plates my father turned his focus onto me, asking me about everything that has happened since the last time we spoke, how my playing is coming along, how school is going, and how Chris and I met.
"... Mother Love Bone?" John chuckles taking a sip of his now third Whiskey shot.
"Yea dad... and we've been together ever since," I giggle as I feel Chris glance back and forth between us as he takes a sip of his Jack straight up.
"You um... you haven't told anyone about your...y'know... have you?" John says glancing down at his shot glass.
"Daddy it's ok... Chris knows. In fact all of my friends know now and they're ok with it," I explain as I feel Chris lace his fingers through mine under the table.
"You're still slipping then?"
"Yea, but it hasn't happened in a while. I'm ok daddy really..." I re-assure him.
"She used to scare the shit out of her mother y'know... disappearing and then popping up again somewhere or somewhen else," John says glancing at Chris as he twirls his shot glass in between his fingers. Chris gives him a half smile.
"Fuck how I just wish sometimes..."John starts looking down at the shot glass but then catches himself. I could see a little glimpse of regret of how he left that night. I don't blame him anymore. I never really did. I just hated the fact that my mother always started their fights and just never accepted who he really was. It broke my heart that he left but I knew he had to. She tried to change him so many times. 'Stop playing, stop touring and be with your family' she would say. It never made sense to me because that's what made her fall in love with him in the first place.
"Well this is not how I intended this to go before my gig let alone meeting up with you," John chuckles dabbing his eyes that have welled up with tears.
"It's ok dad..."I say and I reach across the table and he reaches out for my hand. He takes it in his, my hand completely engulfed and he looks at me with nothing but love.
"Chris... I like you. You remind me of myself about 20 years ago," He says with a chuckle. "I want you to take care of my little girl here. I can see just how much you love her and if you ever hurt her - "
"Dad," I say shooting him a look.
"Don't worry John, I won't. I promise," Chris says and glances at me.
"Yo, John! Soundcheck!" Someone calls from the stage area as some more people begin to come through the doors of The Mecca.
"I guess that's my cue... you two gonna hang and check out the band for a bit?" John asks as we all rise from the table, Chris tucking his chair back in.
"We'd love to," Chris smiles.
"Alright, well in case I don't see you after the show, it was great to meet you Chris," John says as he extends his hand to shake and Chris takes it.
"You too," Chris smiles and my father pats him on the shoulder.
"And you... " My father turns and gives me that silly smirk he always does, and I embrace him in the biggest hug, just like when I was little.
"I love you so much, baby girl. I'm so proud of you," He says low in my ear as he holds me tight.
"I love you too daddy," I say, my voice shaking a little and I didn't want him to let me go. After a few moments, he places a quick kiss on my forehead and then turns to head towards the backstage area to get ready.
"See...? I told you he would like me," Chris smiles at me as I glance up at him and shake my head giggling.
*********************************************************************************************
A/N Hello lovelies! Alright, so I wanted to right a feel good fluffy part with Andi and her father so I hope you guys like it. I also picture Andi's father as Jason Lee when he played Jeff Bebe in the movie Almost Famous
#Time After Time#time travel#alternate universe#also on ao3#also on wattpad#chris cornell#chris cornell fanfiction#soundgarden#soundgarden fanfiction#My Story#fantasy
9 notes
·
View notes
Link
Taylor Swift on "Lover" and haters
John D'Amelio August 25, 2019
You might say Taylor Swift's happy place is at the piano in her Nashville home. "There have been so many songs that were written at this piano," she said.
"And it's often the middle of the night?" asked correspondent Tracy Smith.
"It's usually in the middle of the night," she replied. "Or if I'm trying to get to sleep and I can't and then I get an idea. And I'm, like, 'Well, I'm not tired anyway!' And then kind of wander over here."
Taylor Swift at her piano, with correspondent Tracy Smith.
It's kind of a rare sight, not just because "Sunday Morning" was there ("I haven't serenaded someone in a while, hope you know that!"), but because, for the moment, Taylor Swift was actually sitting still.
I promise that you'll never find another like Me-e-e, Ooh ooh ooh ooh I'm the only one of me Baby, that's the fun of me – "Me!" by Taylor Swift, Joel Little and Brendon Urie
And there never really has been another like Taylor Swift. After only 13 years in the business, she's become a musical force of nature, with an armload of #1 hits, more Grammy Awards than The Rolling Stones, and (according to Forbes) the distinction of being the highest-paid celebrity on the planet.
By any measure, she's an amazing young woman. But there were times, she says, that being young, and a woman, worked against her.
"You're always gonna have people going, 'Did she write all her own songs?'" she said. "Talking about your personal life, talking about your dating life.
"There's a different vocabulary for men and women in the music industry, right?"
"Gimme an example," asked correspondent Tracy Smith.
"Okay. A man does something, it's 'strategic'; a woman does the same thing, it's 'calculated.' A man is allowed to 'react'; a woman can only 'over-react.'"
And it seems her usual reaction is to get to work. Swift writes or co-writes all of her songs. And what's more, her music videos are all her vision, from the pastel wonderland in "Me!":
youtube
…to the giant dollhouse in her latest video, "Lover."
youtube
That's also the title of her critically-acclaimed new studio album, her seventh. She wrote "Lover" on her piano at home, and polished it up in the studio. And once she recorded the music, Swift (accompanied by and her cats) went to Hollywood to make the music video, and she invited Smith along to watch.
There's a love story here, and like a lot of Swift's work, it's an echo of her real life.
Born in Reading, Pennsylvania, Swift discovered her love for music as a toddler. She set her sights on a career in country music, and eventually her parents and younger brother moved to Nashville to help her do it.
"My brother's a real bro for doing that," Swift said.
"Yeah, they all upended their lives," Smith said.
"For sure."
"It worked out well!"
"Yeah, I buy 'em lots of presents," she laughed.
youtube
The rest reads like a fantasy: Swift became a country music phenomenon, and, in the last few years, a pop icon. But the superstar is, by her own admission, as emotionally fragile as any other 20-something, "I'm still someone who is the first to apologize when I'm wrong," she said. "But I think I'm better at standing up for myself when I've been wronged. So, that's something that I think also comes with growing up."
Which brings us to Scooter Braun. Earlier this summer, Braun, a talent agent with whom Swift says she has a contentious relationship, acquired the rights to her previous recordings – her masters – when his company bought Scott Borchetta's Big Machine Label Group for a reported $300 million. Borchetta, who worked with Swift for years, says she and those close to her (including her dad, who was an investor), knew about the deal in advance, and that Swift had previously been offered the chance to buy her own masters.
She remembers it differently, and told Smith she didn't see it coming: "I found out when it was online, like, when it hit the news."
"Nobody in your inner circle knew?" Smith asked.,
"Nobody knew."
"And you didn't smell it?"
"No. I knew he would sell my music; I knew he would do that. I couldn't believe who he sold it to, because we've had endless conversations about Scooter Braun. And he has 300 million reasons to conveniently forget those conversations."
With the sale of the masters to her first six albums, there has been speculation that Swift might re-record her back catalog, in order to control the recordings of her songs.
Smith asked, "Might you do that?"
"Oh, yeah," Swift replied.
"That's a plan?"
"Yeah, absolutely!"
Scooter Braun may not agree with her side of the story, but he did reach out to Swift in a tweet last week, calling her new album "brilliant."
It's clear that Swift wants to control her music: When it's time to release one of her new songs, she does it personally, talking to her fans live on Instagram. This personal connection has earned her a loyal following. But her openness comes at price: She's followed just about everywhere she goes these days, by people who are crazy about her – or just plain crazy.
Smith asked, "Where is home for you now?"
"It's a very good question," she said. "I try not to ever really say where I am the most, because since all my addresses are on the internet, people tend to show up uninvited. Like, you know, dudes that think we have an imaginary marriage."
"And you mentioned that you keep wound dressing with you?"
"Yeah. I've had a lot of stalkers show up to the house, armed. So, we have to think that way."
And she's come under attack in other ways: You need only glance at the tabloids to see some very well-publicized feuds, and she often hits back at her haters through her music. For instance, in "You Need to Calm Down," she calls out anti-gay protesters and online trolls:
You are somebody that we don't know But you're comin' at my friends like a missile Why are you mad? When you could be GLAAD? Sunshine on the street at the parade But you would rather be in the dark ages …
Control your urges to scream about all the people you hate 'Cause shade never made anybody less gay – "You Need to Calm Down" by Taylor Swift and Joel Little
youtube
Smith asked, "I'm curious, because I feel like almost every album, you have a song where you address the haters, at least one song. Sometimes more than one song."
"I probably do have that habit. I imagine that I might have that habit, yeah."
youtube
"Why is that? Why sing to the haters?"
"Well, when they stop coming for me, I will stop singing to them," Swift replied. "You know, people go on and on about, like, you have to forgive and forget to move past something. No, you don't. You don't have to forgive and you don't have to forget to move on. You can move on without any of those things happening. You just become indifferent, and then you move on."
"Do you believe in forgiveness?"
"Yes, absolutely, like, for people that are important in your life who have added, you know, who have enriched your life and made it better, and also there has been some struggle and some bad stuff, too. But I think that, you know, if something's toxic and it's only ever really been that, what are you gonna do?"
"Just move on?"
"Just move on. It's fine."
Taylor Swift's music is always personal, sometimes intensely so. "There's one song on the album called 'Soon You'll Get Better' that it's, I can't even really hear. I can't even listen to it."
She won't talk specifically about her inspiration, but it comes at a time when her mother Andrea, who was battling cancer, suffered a relapse.
Swift said, "It's really interesting because I don't think I have written a song quite like that before. And it's just sort of, like, it's just a tough one."
"I can imagine. But I can also tell you, having listened to it, that it's universal."
"It's just not something that we deal with until we have to, until we see it, until we experience it, until someone close to us is going through something like that. And so, writing about it was really emotional. And I'm just gonna stop talking about it now."
She's more comfortable plunging into her work. On the Hollywood set, a large glass tank will become a symbolic fish bowl in the "Lover" music video.
Taylor Swift filming the fish bowl sequence from her music video "Lover." CBS NEWS
"I very oftentimes remark that my life is like a fish bowl, and that, like, if I were to, like, fall in love, you know, somebody's choosing to be in that fish bowl with me. To jump into the fish bowl with me and live in that world just with me – it's not as depressing as it sounds, I promise! It's just symbolic!"
Talk about fish bowls: she's been dating British actor Joe Alwyn for three years. Seems he's up for a swim.
At the moment, Swift is, well, fully immersed in today. Beyond that, she says she doesn't know … and doesn't really want to.
Smith asked her, "Do you think about, you know, 'What am I gonna do in 20, 30 years?'"
"No, 'cause that puts me into what I call a panic spiral," Swift replied. "Like, I cannot do that. I've never been able to do that."
Why? "It just freaks me out. When I zoom out too far, I freak out. Do I know where I'm gonna be or even wanna be in 20 years? Absolutely not. Like, not taking a single day for granted."
"So, how far ahead do you look?"
"Six months. Just 'cause I have to plan shows and stuff. But I don't know what I'll do after this album. And I think that's great. I tell myself, like, it's actually really ungrateful to just assume that you have 20 years. Like, be stoked that you have today."
CBS News
70 notes
·
View notes