#he and kates boyfriend get her to play a song on the piano for them | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

buckyscrystalqueen · 4 years ago

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Ain’t Sayin’ She’s a Gold Digger: Part 4

Pairings: Sugar Daddy!Negan x Sugar Baby!Reader

Warnings: Sugar baby relationship, swearing

Word Count: 7,963

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

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

In the four months between getting the tickets, and heading to Burning Man, Jeff added seventeen countries and almost double that in states to deal with hotels that were going through the summer with bad ratings and numbers to your travel list. And while he worked, you worked with your new, temporary Burning Man assistant and your friends to organize everything you would need. It was chosen by the group, that now included Matt and Stacy, to join Kenzie and Stacy’s usual camp, which was actually a collection of make your own camps, to get the full Burner experience, and despite the fact that you felt like you were going crazy with Kenzie, who was the other natural organizer in the group, the trip came up before you knew it.

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.” Jeff laughed as he finally drove his RV into Black Rock City behind the 26 foot U Haul filled with your contribution to camp- thousands of dollars worth of water, Gatorade, mini and regular sized liquor bottles, beer, snacks, granola and power bars, and a thrift store find stand up piano, that Matt was driving for you.

“Oh, it’ll be fun.” You giggled as you waved at someone Kenzie had been yelling out the U Haul window at.

“Did you forget, I’m an old man, sweetheart?” He asked with a glance over at you before turning to the right to head down to where your camp, Island Time was located.

“Did you forget that we decided you are seasoned, not old?” Kara asked as she held two of six boxes of decorations in place on the dinning room table.

“We definitely agreed on seasoned, your Majesty.” Dana called out from the back bedroom, where she was responsible for keeping the dozen solar powered coolers of ice in place. Your boyfriend groaned as your smile grew even more.

“Oh, I’m never going to let you live this down.” You giggled as you reached over and pat his thigh.

“Yea, and you’re just making me wanna call an Uber.”

“They have an airport!” Chelsea called out as she sat up from the couch, where she was holding a rope that connected the three massive shade tents, also named Costco Barns, that would make up your themed camp.

“Don’t encourage him.” You scolded as you turned in your seat to look back at her. “He will leave.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt it.” She laughed as she sat up completely, as Jeff parked the RV on the left side of your camp site, and beside the U Haul that would turn into a ‘fishing pond’ for all the snacks it held. “Alright, let’s get unpacked.” You pat Jeff’s thigh once more as the girls in the back got out to start setting up.

“Just let go, sweetheart.” You told him as he set the emergency brake. “You are allowed to take a vacation and the company won’t crumble in your absence.”

“You are the only person I would agree to this for.” He said honestly as he dropped the keys in his cup holder and picked up your hand. “I love you, (Y/N). I need you to know that.”

“I love you, too, Jeff. So, so much.”

“Are you two gunna help, or are you just gunna sit there all day?” Dana asked as she grabbed one of the decorations boxes to carry out. You muttered ‘shut up’ and gave Jeff a chaste kiss before getting out to begin the long day of work. Kate, who was the mastermind behind your camp’s theme, started directing instantly, transforming the square of desert into a tropical wonderland.

Your group had thought of everything, from a had painted directional sign that pointed fellow Burners to coffee, the Playa, the Deep Playa, City Center, the bathrooms, and of course, the Burning Man center piece and The Temple, to a bunch of tropical themed pool rafts to be used by whomever as seats. You had a blue tarp on the ground and the dyed canvas covers above you that Chelsea had painted to look like waves, and dozens of starfish, jellyfish, and fish toys zip tied anywhere they could go so they didn’t become missiles in a dust storm.

There were four fishing poles laid against the U Haul, which had giant handmade banners on each side to promote your camp, and they were set up for ‘fishing’ with baskets on the end of the 100 pound test line that Jeff swore would hold up for what you needed it to. And the piece de le resistance of your camp was an inflatable palm tree cooler, that would have ice cold drinks for anyone passing by that needed one, that would sit directly in front of the piano you had brought to play as yet another contribution to the Burning Man community.

“It’s perfect.” Dana said with a proud smile as you on Jeff’s shoulders, and Chelsea on Matt’s strung up the last strings of blue lights in the canopy.

“I would hope so.” Kate said with a nod. “I busted my ass to figure out this design.”

“Hey! Beach girls!” A guy called out as he rode by your camp on his bike. “Nice idea!” You all yelled thanks as Jeff kneeled down so you could climb off.

“Damn, it’s hot.” He sighed as he sat down on one of the couple chairs you had brought. You nodded in agreement and used your already dust covered shirt to wipe off your face.

“I need a shower.”

“Get used to being dirty.” Kenzie said as she just took off her shirt and tossed it on a chair on her way over to grab a the reusable water bottle with her name on it so she could fill it up from the sink on the outside of the RV.

“So are we getting ready to open here or what?” Matt asked as he helped Chelsea dump ice from one of the solar power coolers into the palm tree cooler.

“Yea, someone throw up the fishing sign.” You said as you two pulled off your shirt and headed inside to get dressed. “I’ll go get ready.”

——

“Oh, do you know ‘Piano Man’?” A girl asked as she skipped up to your piano with a champagne slushy from a few camps down. You glanced up at her and nodded as you set down your mermaid patterned water bottle, that was currently filled with rum and coke and adjusted your shell patterned bikini top.

“I wouldn’t be a piano playing mermaid if I didn’t!” You cried as your fingers moved from playing a random melody to the newest request. You started playing over the cheers of a man, who had gotten a mini bottle of Jäger and a bag of Goldfish in his fishing pole bucket, as the girl in front of you cheered and started singing with you, and the group that had collected in your tent at some point since the sun went down. You glanced over at Jeff, who had decided months ago that he was going to be on whatever shift you were on, and gave him a slightly knowing smile, since his only job was to make sure ice was being made in the ice genies you had filling your freezer, and that the ice that was melting was draining into a new one to make more ice as needed.

He’d spent most of his evening simply watching you, and holding up polite conversations with people that had come in to your tent and had some how slipped past Matt, and Stacy, who were on an entertainment shift with you in the main part of your camp, while Dana played ‘fish’ in the fan filled U Haul, and the other girls rode around to check out some of the rest of the camps. You couldn’t help but fall even more in love with him like you had every day for the past couple months. He was just entirely too good for you, and you didn’t ever want to be away from him.

“Alright, guys, I’m gunna take a break for a few hours.” You said when you saw Kenzie and Kara on their bikes. “Put requests in the fish bowl!”

“We’re switching out?” Matt asked as grabbed a beer from the palm tree.

“Yea, we’re gunna go burn a while.” You said as you adjusted your mermaid scales bottoms on your way over to the U Haul. You yelled your intentions to Dana, who was going to switch places with Kenzie for the second shift of fishing, and grabbed your heavily decorated with bright neon blue LED battery power lights beach cruiser.

“You know, I don’t know if I remember how to ride a bike.” Jeff said softly as he grabbed his matching, mixed color bike from next to yours.

“I’ll make sure you don’t fall or embarrass yourself, my love.” He leaned over and kissed your temple as you grabbed your alcohol filled bottle and a water filled one as well and stuck them in your basket. “Alright, let’s…”

“Hey wait!” The girl that asked you to play Piano Man said as she came running out to the road. She smiled at you and held out a pair of pills. “Thank you. For my song.”

“Oh, no, you don’t have to…”

“Take them.” She giggled as she grabbed your hand and put the two pills in your palm. “Happy Burn.” You nodded at her and looked over at Jeff with a smile.

“Just don’t think.” You said as you put a pill on your tongue, grabbed the back of his head, and kissed him roughly. You could feel him tense up the slightest bit as you pushed the pill between his lips with your tongue, but after a moment, he loosened up, and let you give him the ecstasy.

“What kinda bad influence are you?” He laughed as you popped your pill in your mouth and followed it with a swig of your drink.

“One that you love.” You cooed as you straddled your bike and put your feet on the pedals. “You coming?”

“I guess I am.” He sighed as he got on his bike and briefly wobbled after you before he gained his confidence and pulled up to your side. “Thank you for not letting me back out.”

“Well look at it this way now.” You said as you grabbed your head lamp from the basket, switched it on, and put it on your head. “I just did ecstasy and am headed out to la Playa at prime time in Burning Man time in a bathing suit.”

“Yea, and if you walk more than five feet away from me at any point in time, I’ll take you to Europe, steal all of your things, and leave you there for a week to fend for yourself.”

“Oh, that sounds dangerous.” You teased as you pulled into the center of Black Rock City. You rode over to where a group of bikes and parked yours in the line with the rest, making sure to lock the wheel to the frame just in case someone drunkenly confused your bike with theirs.

“I don’t dance.” Jeff yelled at you over the music.

“You don’t have to.” You laughed as you laced your arm with his and pointed the farthest camp on the edge. “How about we start there and work our way down the line until the E kicks on?” With a nod, he reached out for your hand and laced his fingers with yours to walk with you. It only took about an hour for the drugs to kick in, and in that time you had been gifted a rubber bracelet for the event because you had pretty hair, a few glow stick bracelets and necklaces which made you realize you forgot yours in the RV, and more than a few shots and drinks. And as you were talking to someone about your time in Juilliard, and disagreeing with them on why your Burning Man nickname should not be ‘Keys’, you realized that Jeff was lost in his roll and the softness of your skin on the back of your neck.

“You OK?” You laughed at him when you had a moment break in the conversation.

“Why is your skin so soft?”

“Because you’re high, baby.” You laughed before saying a quick ‘see you later, come see us’ so you could hunt down your bikes before you got lost in the sensation, too.

“You’re back quick.” Dana said as you pulled up to the campsite and got off your bike.

“Yep.” Kenzie, who was sitting right next to her took one look at you before sitting up and turning to the group.

“OK, someone needs to turn the music up right now so we don’t have to hear them fuck!”

“God, you’re impossible.” You laughed as you headed in to the RV with Jeff’s hand in yours, while the people under your tent cheered for you. The second the door closed behind you, you kissed your boyfriend and walked him back to the king sized bed, closing the door only a couple seconds before your clothes hit the floor.

“Fuck, baby girl.” Jeff sighed when he got you completely undressed, and laid out on the blankets. “You are so fucking beautiful.”

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

“You know, I’m honestly surprised you lasted the entire week.” You admitted to Jeff, as he held the door to room one of four suites so you and your friends could shower off and have a good night sleep before you flew home. He huffed at you as your friends all tiredly headed into their rooms beside and across the hall from you to shower and wash off the six layers of dirt and catch up the dozens of hours of missed sleep.

“That is only because I wasn’t leaving my gorgeous girlfriend alone in the desert with that many drugs, and that many naked people.” You snorted a laugh through your nose, dropped your purse on the floor just inside the door, and kicked off your shoes in opposite directions on the way to the shower. “Hey, who said you could go first?”

“I will kill you if you think you are getting in before me.” You growled as you pulled off your clothes and got into the shower. “Get in here and help me.” You whined as you stood out of the way of the shower spray and turned the water on.

“So needy.” He huffed as he stripped out of his clothes and stepped in the shower in front of you. With a content sigh, you wrapped your arms around his waist and rested your head on his chest.

“This is all I need in life anymore.” You told him as you watched dirty water wash through and around the soft hairs on his chest. You adjusted your cheek and sighed once more as he grabbed a bar of soap and washed you off in lazy circles.

“Move in with me.” Those four words made your stomach flip as you looked up at the first man that had ever made you feel worth while, and nodded your head without needing to give the proposition any thought otherwise.

“I’m taking a long nap first.” You replied with a smirk as you laid your head back down on his chest.

“I think that can be arranged, baby girl.”

The next two weeks of your life was a complete whirlwind as you packed up all your belongings, moved across Central Park to Jeff’s Upper East Side home, and helped Chelsea move out of the four bedroom hell hole she lived in with 3 total wack jobs and a horrible landlord since she spent half the time sleeping on your couch as is, and into your old room. But just as you were getting everything settled, you caught some kind of stomach bug that turned out to be something way more serious.

Jeff stood pin straight still, and dead silent, as you both stared at the door of the hospital room you were in- a trip you made because he couldn’t take one more night of you throwing up and writhing on the bathroom floor in pain. You had no idea what he was thinking, but then again, neither did he. You were both just absolutely terrified.

“Are they OK?” You both asked the second the doctor walked into the room.

“Let’s just take a look, OK?” He said with a reassuring smile. You couldn’t bring yourself to believe him as every single drug you took in Black Rock City ran like a bad movie in your head. You reached out for Jeff at the same moment he took a step toward you, as the doc grabbed the ultrasound wand. You actually held your breath as he located the two side by side blobs and nodded his head.

“They look fine.” You exhaled forcefully and burst into fear and joy fill tears, as Jeff sat down in the chair next to you in relief. “Two healthy babies.”

“We did a lot of drugs.” Jeff said as he worried your hand between his as he stared at the monitor. “And a lot of drinking at Burning Man...”

“And all I can say on that is get in touch with an OBGYN, and disclose everything. I won’t lie to you, there could be some consequences, but I wouldn’t worry too much about that. I’ve seen drug addicts who used everyday of their pregnancy and had perfectly functioning, otherwise healthy babies. I’d just refrain from any and all alcohol consumption and drug use.”

“Oh absolutely.” You said with a nod as you took the two photos he handed you and held the delicately in your hands. “I’ll do everything by the book.”

“Just don’t worry to much about what you did. Focus on what you can do for them now.” You nodded your head and took the paper script from him, which Jeff took from you right after. “Something to help with the nausea. And I’ll have the nurse bring in a list of some OBGYN’s in town for you as well.”

“Thank you, doc.” Jeff said with a nod as he stood up and shook the man’s hand. “We appreciate it.” With another nod, the doctor left the room to go about his day, and you looked up at the father of your children and started to cry.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t know!” He shushed you softly and shook his head as he leaned down to wrap you in a hug.

“It’s ok, baby girl.” He whispered as he held you to his shoulder with his hand on the back of your head. “I’m not mad. It’s OK now. We’ll all be OK.” You nodded for a second before your stomach rolled, and you practically shoved him away to grab the vomit bag the nurse had given you to get sick in. “It’s OK.” He repeated as he gently rubbed your back and picked up the ultrasounds from your lap to look at them in complete disbelief. “We’re all gunna be alright.”

——

Jeff didn’t speak to you for three days after you got home, other than to check to see how you were feeling, and to remind you he loved you every night as you walked out of the living room to the master bedroom without him, which was unusual for him, since you usually went to bed together. On the fourth night, you got fed up with laying in his bed, waiting for the man that you had fallen head over heels in love with, the father of your children, and grabbed your pillow and the blanket to head down to the guest bedroom. You made it almost all the way to the door, when it opened toward you. Jeff stopped for a moment and looked at you with eyes full of concern, as you hiked the blankets and your pillow up a little more.

“No.” He said simply with a shake of his head, as if it were the answer to all of your problems.

“No, you no!” You snapped back as tears welled in your eyes. “I’m going…”

“I always wanted kids.” He sighed as he stepped in front of you and pulled the blanket out of your arms to put it back on the bed. “Hillarie couldn’t conceive. And the few times she did, we miscarried before the end of the first trimester.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Do you know that fear doesn’t go away?” He asked as he walked you around to your side of the bed. “Fear that you’re going to blink and everything is going to be ripped away from you, that doesn’t just go away.” He sighed as he pulled off his shoes and carefully laid you down on the bed so he could get in behind you. As if you were China doll about to break, he scooted up behind you as close as he could, and gently wrapped his arm under yours across your chest.

“(Y/N), I’m so sorry I’ve pulled away from you. It is absolutely not your fault, or the fact that you are pregnant. I love you so fucking much and I need you with me every fucking day for the rest of my life. And now I need our kids just as much, but I’m fucking terrified. I can’t… I can’t…”

“I’m scared too.” You whispered as you pulled his arm even closer to you. “What if I fucked them up?”

“Then we will figure it out together, baby.” He sighed as he hugged you a little tighter. “I’m sorry I pulled away. I needed a minute and I never should have taken it silently without telling you what I was doing. That was not fair to you. I’ve just never been good at handling hard life shit.” You shook your head in agreement and sniffled as your tears fell on his arms and your pillow. “I’m sorry. Forgive me…” You nodded your head and rolled over to face him, and he held you to his chest as his own tears welled in his eyes.

“Just tell me it’s gunna be OK.” You sobbed as you held on to his shirt so he wouldn’t leave when you voiced your insecurities. “Tell me I didn’t kill our babies at stupid fucking Burning Man or that they aren’t going to end up blind, or with only one limb between them….”

“No, shhh…” He tried with a shake of his head as he realized that you were dealing with different versions of his same fears about the situation. “Our babies are going to be just fine. Unless they’re boys… then we’re both screwed.”

“No, I want boys!” You whined as he leaned back enough to kiss your forehead and wipe away your tears for you.

“Then we are going to have two, healthy boys, that have all ten fingers and all ten toes each, in their right places, on the right babies. And they’re gunna be smart, and handsome, and funny, and…”

“Perfect?” He nodded his head as he moved his hand to your stomach with as big of smile as his nervous self could handle.

“They will be perfect.”

——

“OK, you understand that I’m supposed to be peacefully resting at home, right? Not looking at new houses…”

“You’ve taken over my closet.” Jeff laughed as he held the elevator door open on the fourth floor of the millionth condo you had seen in the past six week. “And it’ll only be a matter of time before you start taking over the one in the guest bedroom. Besides my place is more of a bachelor pad still. It’s not really kid friendly…”

“I know what you’re doing.” You said as you stopped in front of 4B and turned around to look at him as you put your hand on your back and cocked your eyebrow at him. You pointed at the bump that officially stuck out past your boobs and shook your head. “We made it to the second trimester. You don’t need to distract yourself...”

“But we still need a bigger house.” He chuckled as he leaned towards you to knock at the door. “One that you can decorate for our family and not my assistant for my tastes.”

“Whatever.” You huffed as you turned toward Jeff’s real estate agent, Mark. “So? Let’s hear it.”

“Four beds, three and a half baths.” Mark started as he walked backwards into the living room. “Thirty five hundred square feet, and washer and dryer in the unit.”

“Big kitchen?” You asked as you curled your lip at the hideous purple painted book shelf in the study to your left off the living room. “Eww…”

“Big kitchen.” Mark agreed as Jeff followed you around, taking mental notes about the things he would need to change for you to make this the house you wanted to start your family in since he didn’t mind one bit where he lived as long as you were there with him.

“God, who designed this place?” You asked as you turned around and looked at weird, bell shaped light on the far side of the open concept room in what had to be the dining room. “Schools?”

“7, 2, and 8 out of 10.” He said as he looked at his notebook to get the answers to the questions he knew you were going to ask since he had been working with you for a few weeks. “The building was built in 1906 and was last coded in 2019. Been on the market five days and it’s already seen three people.” You shook your head as you peaked into the half bath and the walk in pantry across the way, before heading into the absolutely gorgeous white and grey kitchen, thats only blemish was the colored cushions on the bench in the breakfast nook in the corner, and more of the same strange gold bell lamp shades.

“This could be a play room.” Jeff said as he looked at the den that backed the kitchen.

“You have another closet back there. And the laundry room with a sink is over there.” You nodded your head and glanced down the hall that lead to the bedrooms, as Jeff came up behind you with a smirk.

“You are poker facing awful hard, baby girl.”

“Other than paint, and changing light fixtures, I love it, but I’m not telling him that.” Your love huffed and nodded his head as you walked over to look at the actual laundry room with a sink, cabinets, and counter space, and the large walk in closet.

“It also has 3-zone central AC, a humidification system, and radiant-heated floors in the bathrooms. And it has a part time doorman, a live-in super, more added storage, and a bike room. The walk score is 98, and transit is 100. Now I think is the cutest part of the house is this room right here. I know Mr. Morgan said you were having twins, and this is perfect already if they are girls, or it can be painted for boys…”

“Oh, wow.” You said as your facade slipped for only a moment when you saw the built in bookshelves on one wall, and the already built in bunk beds next to the long closet on the other. You glanced up at Jeff with a smirk you couldn’t control, and he kissed your forehead in silent confirmation.

“What are they asking?”

“$5,375,000.” Jeff whistled as you looked at the similar room across the hall, that had the same bookshelves on one wall but a small ensuite on the other wall.

“HOA?”

“It’s a little higher than the rest.” Mark said as he followed you and Jeff through the second to last bedroom, and the bath that it shared with the room with the bunk beds. “$5,018”

“Can you give us a minute?” Jeff asked as you stepped into the last room, the master bedroom.

“You may not have enough room in this closet either, baby.”

“Finally found one you like?” You finally let your smile show, and nodded your head as you turned on the wood floors that ran through all of the bedrooms toward him. He sighed and put his hands on your hips with a small smile that made your heart melt and your stomach flip. “Do you want it?”

“Do you?” He nodded his head and searched your eyes for a moment before taking a deep breath.

“I’m gunna say the same thing I said to Hillarie when I bought our first house. This house will be our house, until the day comes when you don’t want me here anymore, which hopefully is never. But if that day comes, this house will still be yours, and our kids, for the rest their lives… unless you cheat on me, or if you attempt to steal money from me, which yes, it is possible, because I watched my ex-wife try to do it. Not saying you would, but I still need to lay the rules out…”

“Wait… you’re giving me a house?”

“No.” He chuckled as he moved his hands to the small of your back to hug you. “I’m buying us a house, that I’m going to put your name on as well, so that we both know that you and our children will always be taken care of. Because you are the real love of my life… and I need to know that you are safe.” You couldn’t help yourself but to start crying, and his smile simply grew more as he leaned down and kissed your forehead. “Wanna walk through it one more time to make sure you really love it?”

“Yes…”

“Well go on then.” He chuckled before giving you a chaste kiss. “I’m going to talk price and see if I can get them to do a short sale so we can get in here and get that purple book shelf painted…”

“Eww and change those horrid light shades, please!”

“We can find some new light shades, sweetheart.”

“Hey baby!” You called out before he could walk out of the room. “Thank you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.”

“Anything for you, baby girl.” You blew him a kiss and turned to look at the small white and bronze accented bathroom, that would have to have to be redone in some actual color, before heading back over to the bedroom with the bunk beds.

“This is gunna be your room one day, babies.” You whispered as you rubbed your bump and looked down at your babies as the reality that they would never have to live the life you did growing up caught up with you. You started to cry again as you looked up at a giant giraffe stuffed animal the owners kids owned, and choked on your tears with a laugh. “God, and I promise I will never buy you two something so tacky.”

——

“OK, this is just not fucking fair.” Dana said as she walked into your new, freshly painted, co-decorated, slightly remodeled home for your gender reveal. “This place could fit my house like ten times over!”

“She looked at about a million and one to find this one.” Jeff teased as he took the giant basket she was carrying from her.

“What’s in the basket?” You asked as you pushed the front door closed and took a step toward your boyfriend, only to have him turn away and Dana step in front of you.

“You can open it later.” She laughed as she turned you around and pushed you into your living room. “Now show me around. Be a good hostess before everyone else gets here.”

“Oh, Jesus I can’t even… You’re so needy!”

“Oh, I know! It’s so hard to be a good host.” She laughed back as she followed you to the kitchen, where you had dozens of finger foods and desserts in pink and blue.

“OK, wait. You have to place your vote.” You said as you pointed to the dry erase board you had borrowed from her office. “Two boys, two girls, or one of each. And then you have to wear the beads.”

“Oh, I like it!” She said as she lifted the two strands of blue beads from around your neck. “You want boys?”

“Oh, I need boys.” You said as you held out a few dry erase markers for her to choose. “Dana, we’re girls. Do you remember how much trouble we got in to?”

“Yea, but so do boys.” She pointed out as she drew a mark under the one boy, one girl column and picked up one of each necklace.

“Yes, but boys listen to their mothers.” You reminded her as you want over and grabbed a glass of blue raspberry lemonade and a blue straw from the table of the breakfast nook. “Come on, you have to see the boy’s room.”

“What if it’s one and one?”

“Then I guess I’m just going to have to recreate the room on the other side? I don’t know. I do know that I’ve grown to hate this purplish pinkish bleck shade they had in here…”

“Oh, that’s really cool. But I see about the color, this is awful.”

“So this one shares a bathroom with the one next door. And the one across the hall has an ensuite so it’s the guest room. And our room is next to that…”

“Oh, let me see the remodel you did with that. You changed the bathroom, right?”

“OK, so first, you have to see the final product so I can show you how we changed it because the way they set this up is just asinine.”

“What did they…”

“Who makes a master bathroom five feet wide and thinks that’s OK?” You asked as you stepped into the master suite and pushed open the bathroom door. “So this wall stopped here and we pushed it out into one of the two closets the undecided room had and doubled the size. And then I added the tub because I needed it.”

“I like this color.” She said as she touched the dark teal accent wall behind the mirror.

“I used the same one on the bookshelf in the study because I liked it so much.” You said with a nod. “We also pushed this wall into the walk in because Jeff still has his closet space out here and I didn’t need that much space, so that few feet gave us just the amount of room we needed.” Dana nodded and turned toward you with a smile.

“Are you happy, (Y/N)? Like not because of the physical possessions… does he make you happy?” You smiled and nodded your head as you put your hand on your 20 week along bump.

“Dana, I’m pretty sure I would die without him in my life. I have never loved someone the way I love Jeff.” Her smile grew as she stepped forward and put her hands on either side of your stomach.

“Then I know I made the right choice in calling you back that day.” You nodded your head as Jeff called your name from outside the door, and you looked over at him with a smile.

“My mom just got here. Are you done touring?”

“Where did your beads go, mister?” You asked as you turned toward him and followed him out of your room.

“Mom votes with me that they are both girls so I gave them to her.” He laughed as he reached out for your hand just long enough to pull you to the side to put his hand on the small of your back.

“And you know I’m going to keep giving you shit until you put them back on, Daddy.” You cooed as you grabbed two pink bead necklaces and held them out to him. “Or you can sleep on the couch, far far away from Mommy and the boys.”

“See, I like her already.”

“Thanks Mom.” Jeff laughed as he put his necklaces on and turned you around to the food covered island. “Sweetheart, this is my mom, Sandy. Mom, the love of my life, mother of daughters…”

“Sons.” You laughed as you stepped forward to the grandmother of your children. “(Y/N). It’s so nice to finally meet you, Sandy.”

“Oh, please. It’s Mom.” She said sweetly as she gestured to your bump. “May I?”

“Absolutely!” You laughed as you reached out for her hands and pulled her a step closer. “You’ve got the soccer player down here, and the long jumper that uses my ribs as a jumping board up here. I say they have to be boys because like two nights ago, they got into what felt like a slap fight against my bladder and I feel like only boys would be that rude to their mother in the middle of the night.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” She laughed as she rubbed your bump through the knee length blue and pink splattered, off the shoulder dress that was tight against your body and had a long, loose ruffle around the top. “If they are boys, I hope for your sake they are nothing like their father because he was a wild child.”

“Oh, really!” You squealed as you refilled your cup and picked up a pink chocolate covered strawberry, while Jeff whined ‘Mom’ on his way to go get the door. “Please, I am begging you to tell me more.”

“Oh, honey I will never run out of stories about my Jeffrey. Like this one time…”

“Mom!” Jeff said as he walked back into the kitchen behind Chelsea and Kate, and couple of Jeff’s friends that you had only meet a few times before. “Don’t start!”

“Oh, I’ll start alright.” She laughed with a shake of her head. “I have to pre-warn her what she’s getting into with Morgan boys.” You laughed with her as Jeff simply shook his head and went to get the door again, and Dana quickly jumped on the train to get more stories about the father of your child with you. Since you had no representation of family, you shared your own embarrassing childhood stories as your friends and his came together to celebrate the lives you created. You played cheesy games, and ate probably way to many sweets, until Jeff’s assistant, Rebecca got there a little late with two large black balloons for Baby A and Baby B.

“OK, let’s see what the final vote is before we pop these suckers.” Jeff called out over the slight hum of voices in the living room and kitchen as he pointed to the two balloons Rebecca was putting in the arch way between the living and dining room. One of the men that worked in Jeff’s New York office, Jason, grabbed the white board for you and carried it out to the dinner table, where the presents that people had brought to make the last couple months of your pregnancy a little more enjoyable were.

“So we have eight for boy boy.” You said as you looked at all the tallies on the board. “Which is the right team, by the way…”

“Thirteen for girl girl, the winning team.” Jeff interrupted with a playful glare.

“You are are just mistaken.” You giggled. “And fourteen for both. So Baby B is the one up by my ribs, and Baby A is right now down by my left hip. So we’ll obviously start with A. Thanks, Bex.” You said as you took the balloon and a sewing needle from her. “You wanna?”

“No, pop away, my love.” Jeff said as he moved the balloon between you so that you could both be in the photos Kenzie had been taking for you all afternoon. You and your party guests counted down from three, and hesitated for only a second before hitting the black latex with the sharp tip. You cheered excitedly as blue confetti rained down on your head and floated down on your hardwood floors.

“Ok, so this one better be a girl.” Jeff mockingly complained as he took the string from you and traded it for the next balloon.

“If it is a girl, she’s a badass with the way she’s beating up on her brother.” You laughed as you handed him the pin. “But it’s gunna be another boy.”

“Wrong.” He laughed before starting the next count down. You actually held your breath, hoping in that moment that it was a girl for his sake, and you shrieked happily when the destroyed latex released its pink confetti over the blue.

“We got one of both.” You said with a smile as Jeff cupped your jaw with his hands.

“A Daddy’s girl and a Mama’s boy.” He said with a nod. “We’re both screwed.”

“Yea we are.” You laughed as you stood up on your tip toes and kissed him softly. “A boy and a girl… sorry baby, we gotta do even more painting.”

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

“Oh, God, is this really necessary?” You whined as you stepped in to a white and black polka dot sleeveless, halter gown to go to a charity event for one of the foundations Jeff was a part of.

“I’m sorry, but it is.” Jeff said with a nod as he pulled your dress up to your hips where you could reach it without bending over around your substantial 32 week along bump. “It’s a once a year dinner that I have to go to, and you said you wanted to go…”

“Yea, I know.” You sighed as you turned around so he could zip you up. “But I was obviously delirious, running on more sleep, and probably half the size I am now.”

“And you still look just as beautiful to me, baby.” He said sweetly to keep you calm like he usually did as he turned you around toward him with a smile. “I love you… and I know Jett and Jace are both thankful you are carrying them…”

“Yea, I know you think that.” You huffed as a small smile pulled at your cheeks. “But I think these two are ungrateful, hate monsters that can’t keep their arms and legs inside the moving vehicle.” Jeff laughed whole heartedly as he knelt down and slipped your wedge sandals on your feet for you.

“You’re almost there, baby girl. 36 weeks was your goal…”

“Just make it go faster.” You sighed as you put your cell phone on silent and handed it to him to carry so you didn’t have to bring a purse. He put it in his inside jacket pocket with your tissues (because everything made you cry now a days), your lip gloss, and a bag of goldfish in case you got hungry before dinner was served.

“Make it through dinner, and we’re one more day closer.” He said in a sing song voice as he turned you toward the door and gave you a gentle push in that direction. You grumbled at him under your breath as you adjusted your belly band under your dress, and headed down stairs. “It’ll be over before you know it, sweetheart.” He placated over your continued grumbling when your car pulled up in front the Ritz in Manhattan. With one last grumble, you lost the pout and forced a smile on your face as he and his driver, Jonathan, helped you out of the car.

“Oh, you look so big!” “When are you due?!” “Twin’s, that sounds like a lot of work!” “Oh, you have to use cloth diapers, they are so much better for the babies.” “A tiny thing like you is going to have a lot of fun pushing those babies out.”

“OK!” Jeff said quickly before you knocked the woman that was reaching out for your bump on her ass. “Let’s go find our seats and get you off your feet.”

“Why do people think it’s acceptable to touch me?”

“Because people are weird.” He laughed as he guided you around a chair that had been left pulled out.

“Jeffrey Dean!” You stopped walking as a woman stood up on the far side of the table in front of you, and Jeff’s hand gripped the back of your dress when she started walking toward you.

“Hillarie.”

“The Hillarie?” You asked with a glance back up at him. He nodded his head and rubbed your back as he cleared his throat.

“What can I do for you, Hillarie?”

“Oh, nothing, I just… oh! You’re… pregnant.” You nodded your head and put your hand on your bump as she smirked between you and her ex. “You finally caved and went with a sperm donor…”

“Good night, Hillarie…” Jeff tried as he gave you a gentle push to the right, but his ex side stepped and blocked your path.

“No, I’m sorry. That’s rude of me.” She giggled with the fakest smile you had ever seen. “You seem like a nice young thing. I bet you found a man to knock you up and went after Jeff for the money, didn’t you?”

“Excuse me?!”

“That’s enough, Hillarie!”

“I mean you are huge and, let’s face it, we both know Jeff’s sperm are way to old to be a viable option…”

“I’m sorry.” You interrupted as your whole body started to shake. “I think I missed the memo saying that your opinion about my children and their father mattered to anyone but yourself.” She cocked her eyebrow at you as you reached back for Jeff’s hand with a very forced smile. “And I’m even more sorry that you decided to cheat on him and pass up on mind blowing sex. Not that it’s any of your business, but I can promise you that he is responsible for my huge stomach. He’s responsible for making me happy, and he’s responsible for making me forget my own name every night.” Hillarie looked shocked at your retort as you stepped back the other way and up to her side with a smile. “Oh, and thank you for talking to him. Now I know I’ll go to bed wore out as we both attempt to forget you are still in Manhattan and so he can welcomingly remind me the seasoned man he is and exactly who fathered my babies.” You took a step back and smiled at her once more as the exhausted vindictiveness washed over you.

“And I’m sorry that you weren’t capable of getting pregnant. But obviously… that’s not Jeff’s fault.”

“OK, let’s go find our seats, baby girl.” Jeff said quickly as he stepped between you and his ex with an uncontrollable satisfied smirk on his face. “Good night, Hillarie.” You heard her growl behind you as you were led away, and you glanced up at Jeff for a moment. “You did fine.” He chuckled before you could even ask.

“I’m sorry, it wasn’t my place… really, they’re starting with salad.”

“Just start with the salad so you don’t rip anyone else’s head off.” He laughed as he pulled your chair out at the first table in the middle row of the room.

“And for that, I’m eating yours too.” You huffed with a smile as you put your napkin on your lap, and turned your attention to the rest of the people at the table, who were thankfully people that you knew from Jeff’s New York office that had attended your gender reveal, or would be attending your baby shower the next day. “Growing babies is tough work. Can’t be done on just greens.”

#negan x reader #Ain't sayin' she's a gold digger #Negan's thirst squad #Negan thirst squad

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adevotedappraisal · 5 years ago

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Magdalene by FKA Twigs, a review.

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I’ve been learning some shit from women from as long as I’ve been alive. Always some other shit that I never asked for but I got told it. I used to treat them things they said as laws as a child, but I never saw them in a book, so then I stopped believing them. They were always hushed laws though, laws told with squinted eyes and italicized whispers, laws told when no one else was around.

I mean, now of course men make the real laws that we know and live by. Well come on now, we write them on parchment, and display them on lights, we code them into computers, inscribe them on coins and stone. But these women��man women tell you some other shit, like glue shit, in low, muttered tones in the quiet part of the house. Like advice on… well not how the world works, but how to deal with the world when it works against you, and how to make it work for you. But you see, I’ve come to believe that the fairer sex tells you different laws than the vaunted laws and advice of our fathers because they all around see the world differently than men do. They may, in fact, have been harbouring different goals than us all along.

I mean for christssakes us men have our hero’s journey as clear as day, writ large and indelible across history books and entertainment. You could take that Joseph Campbell mono-myth theory and see it expressed in Arthurian swash-buckle, the middle earth ring-slaying of Tolkien, or in the recently concluded tri-trilogy of Star Wars galactic clashes. We’re in the empire business, as Breaking Bad’s Walter White infamously said. But still, the question always lingered to me: what is the heroine’s journey? Is it really just a lady in a knight’s armour? Or some tough-as-nails spy for some interloping government’s intelligence agency, delivering kidney kicks in a designer pencil skirt?

Well, I’ve come to believe that the heroine’s journey is navigating the waves of history we imperial and trans-national men make from our railroads and pipelines, our satellites and wars, them at once preserving a culture and sparking a path and creating a bond between cultures in order for them and their (il)legitimate brood to survive. That old chestnut about how behind every successful man is a woman always unnerved me by its easy adoption. I kept thinking ‘bout that woman. I kept thinking, what the fuck was she thinking?

You see women’s heroes, they ain’t as clear as day to me. They don’t kill the dragon, they don’t save the townspeople, they don’t shoot the Sherriff, or the deputy, or anyone most times. When I ask people in public at my job what super power they would like, most men go for strength, flight, and regenerative abilities (my pick). Most women went with mind reading and flight. In late night conversations though, with the moonlight coming through the white blinds and resting soft on us like so, I sometimes manage to hear that women’s heroes heal and clean the sick of the nation, in sneakers with heels as round as a childhood eraser; they feed a family with one fish and five slices of wonder bread; they would run gambling spots in the back of their house, putting the needle back on the Commodores record and patrolling the perimeter of the smoked-out room with a black .45 nested by their love handles; they climb up flag poles and speak out loud in public for the disposed and teach children those unwritten, floating laws while cloistered in the quiet part of the house.

Although their heroines are sometimes from the top strata of society –a Pharaoh here, an Eleanor Roosevelt there, an Oprah over there—they also name a healthy mix of radicals and weirdos with modest music success, people like Susan B. Anthony, Frida Kahlo, Virginia Woolf, or Nikki Giovanni, I mean did Nina Simone or Janis Joplin even crack the Billboard top ten? Yet there they are, up on the walls of a thousand college dorms across the country. So even though I couldn’t’ve foreseen it, it makes sense that of all the ultra-natural creatures, of all the great conquering kings and divining prophets of the Holy Bible, Mary Magdalene ends up the spirit animal for the album of the year for 2019.

Mary Magdalene was a follower of Jewish Rabbi Jesus during the first century, according to the four Gospels of the New Testament of the Bible, a figure who was present for his miracles, his crucifixion and was the first to witness him after his resurrection. From Pope Gregory I in the sixth century to Pope Paul VI in 1969, the Roman Catholic Church portrayed her as a prostitute, a sinful woman who had seven demons exorcised from her. Medieval legends of the thirteenth century describe her as a wealthy woman who went to France and performed miracles, while in the apocryphal text The Gospel of Mary, translated in the mid-twentieth century, she is Jesus’ most trusted disciple who teaches the other apostles of the savior’s private philosophies.

Due to this range of description from varying figures in society, she gets portrayed in differing ways, by all types of women, each finding a part of Magdalene to explain themselves through. Barbra Hershey, in the first half of Scorsese’s The Last Temptation of Christ (1988) plays her as a firm and mysterious guide, a rebellious older cousin almost, while Yvonne Elliman, in Norman Jewison’s 1973 film adaptation of Lloyd Weber’s Jesus Christ Superstar is lovelorn and tender throughout, a proud witness of the Word being written for the first time. In “Mary Magdalene,” FKA Twigs, the Birmingham UK alt-soul singer, describes the woman as a “creature of desire”, and she talks about possessing a “sacred geometry,” and later on in the song she tells us of “a nurturing breath that could stroke you/ divine confidence, a woman’s war, unoccupied history.” Her vocals that sound glassy and spectral in the solemn echoes of the acapella first third, co-produced by Benny Blanco, turn sensual and emotive when the blocky groove kicks in. That groove comes into its own on the Nicolas Jaar produced back third, and when this all is adorned with plucked arpeggios it sounds like an autumnal sister to the wintry prowl of Bjork’s “Hidden Place” from her still excellent Vespertine (2001).

This blending of the affairs of the body and of Christian theology is found in the moody “Holy Terrain” as well. While it is too hermetic and subdued to have been an effective single, it still works really well as an album track. In this arena, Future is not the hopped up king of the club, but a vulnerable star, with shaded eyes and a heart wrapped up in love and chemicals, sending his girl to church with drug money to pay tithes. Over a domesticated trap beat he shows a vulnerable bond that can exist, wailing his sins and his devotion like a tipsy boyfriend does in the middle of a party, or perhaps like John the Baptist did, during one of his frenzied sermons, possessed and wailing “if you pray for me I know you play for keeps, calling my name, calling my name/ taking the feeling of promethazine away.”

Magdalene, the singer’s sophomore release, takes the mysterious power and resonance of this biblical anti-heroine, and involves its songs with her, these emotional, multi-textured songs about fame, pain and the break up with movie star boyfriend Robert Pattinson. With “Sad Day,” Twigs sings with a delicate yet emotional yearning, imbued with a Kate Bush domesticity. The synth pads are a pulsing murmur, and the vocal samples are chopped and rendered into lonely, twisting figures. The drums crash in only every once in a while, just enough to reset the tension and carve out an electronic groove, while the rest of the thing is an exercise in mood and restraint, the production by twigs, Jaar and Blanco, along with Cashmere Cat and Skrillex, leaves her laments cosseted in a floating sound, distant yet dense and tumultuous, the way approaching storm clouds can feel. Meanwhile “Thousand Eyes” is a choir of Twigs, some voices cluttered and glittering, some others echoed and filled with dolour. “If you walk away it starts a thousand eyes,” she sings, the line starting off as pleading advice and by the close of the song ending up a warning in reverb, the vintage synths and updated DAWs used to create these sparse, aural haunts where the choral of shes and the digital ghosts of memory can echo around her whispered confessional.

In many of these divorce albums, the other party’s role in the conflict is laid bare in scathing terms: the wife that “didn’t have to use the son of mine, to keep me in line” from Marvin Gaye’s Here My Dear from 1979; the players who “only love you when they’re playin’” as Stevie Nicks sang on Fleetwood Macs Rumours (1977); or as Beyonce’s Lemonade (2017) charges, the husband that needs “to call Becky with the good hair.” At first though, Twigs is diplomatic, like in “Home with me,” where she lays the conflict on both sides here, expressing the rigours of fame, the miscommunication –accidental or intentional –that fracture relationships, and the violent, tenuous silence of a house where one of the members is in some another country doing god knows what, physically or mentally. “I didn’t know you were lonely, if you’d just told me I’d be home with you,” she sings in the chorus over a lonely piano, while the verse sections have the piano chords flanked by blocks of glitch, and littered with flitched-off synths. Then, the last chorus swirls the words again, along with the strings and horns and everything into a rising crescendo of regret.

Later in the album however, her anger once smoldering is set alight, in the dramatic highlight “Fallen Alien.” Twigs sings with an increasing tension, as her agile voice morphs from confused, pouting girlfriend to towering lady of the manor, launching imprecations towards a past lover and perhaps fame itself. “I was waiting for you, on the outside, don’t tell me what you want ‘cuz I know you lie,” she sings, and, after the tension ratchets up becomes “when the lights are on, I know you, see you’re grey from all the lies you tell,” and then later on we have her sneering out loud “now hold me close, so tender, when you fall asleep I’ll kick you down.” All while pondering pianos drop like rain from an awning, tick-tocking mini-snares and skittering noises flit across the beat like summer insects, the kicks of which are like an insistent, inquisitive knocking at the door, and then there’s that sample, filtered into an incandescent flame, crackling an I FEEL THE LIGHTNING BLAST! all over the song like the arc of a Tesla coil. The song is a shocking rebuke, and it becomes apparent upon replays that the songs are sequenced to lead up to and away from it, the gravitational weight giving a shape and pace to the whole album. Because of this, the other songs on Magdalene have more tempered, subtle electronic hues and tones, as if the seductive future soul of 2013s “Water Me” from EP2, and the inventive, booming experimentation of “Glass & Patron” from 2015s M3LL1SSX, were pursed back and restrained until it was needed most, and this results in an album more accomplished, nuanced and focused than her impressive but inconsistent debut LP1 (reviewed here).

This technique of electronic restraint has shown up in the most recent albums by experimental pioneers, with the sparse, mournful tension of Radiohead’s A Moon Shaped Pool (2017), it’s cold, analog synths and digital embellishments cresting on the periphery of the song, and with Wilco’s Ode to Joy from last year, an album bereft of their lauded static and electric scrawl, mostly embossed in acoustic solitude and brittle, wintery guitar licks. Twigs and her co-producers take the same knack for the most part throughout the album, like with closer “Cellophane,” where the dramatic voice and piano are in the forefront, while effects crunch lightly in the background like static electricity in a stretched sweater, and elsewhere, as the synths of “Daybed” slowly intensify into a sparkling soundscape, as if manufacturing an awakening sunrise through a bedroom window. And it is this seamless melding of organic and electronic instruments, to express these wretched and fleeting emotions of heartbreak that makes this the album of the year.

It makes sense that an artist like FKA Twigs would be drawn to a figure like Mary Magdalene. Of the many Marys in the New Testament, she stuck out as palpably different, or rather, she depicted a differing part of womanhood than the other two. She wasn’t the chaste, life-giving mother of Jesus, or the dutiful Mary of Clopas. Instead, Magdalene was this mixture of sexuality and spirituality, one of those figures that managed to know men and women in equal measure, wrapped up with the blood as well as the flesh. Twigs also played with this enrapturing sexuality in her work, writhing around in bed begging some papi to pacify her and fuck her while she stared at the sun, then making you identify with the lamentations of video girls, and then telling you in two weeks you won’t even recognize who you were seeing before. There was something mysterious and layered to her millennial art-chick sexpot act though, layers that have begun to be revealed with this album.

We realise now, that what she was depicting all along was more like the sexual heat that lays underneath devotion, as opposed to fleeting, mayfly lust, and that she now understands the weight and half-life of love. That is, that beyond the sex and patron and fame there is a near sacred love we build between each other for a while in time, lasting as long as both hands can bear to hold it, and also that the death of a relationship still has the memory of the love created warm within it that then radiates off slow into the air. A love that then falls into our minds for safekeeping dark and unobstructed now, the way Jesus’ blood fell from his wound into Joseph of Arimathea’s grail held aloft.

“I never met a hero like me in a sci-fi,” FKA Twigs sings, an evocative line less so for the hegemonic patriarchy of the worldwide movie and comic book industry suggested by ‘the sci-fi’ here, and more for the ‘hero like me’ part, which suggests she had to make her hero origin story all up, without the scaffolding of centuries of relatable mythologies, presenting us with an avatar of millennial love, in all of its tortured luster. And you hear this type of love in her voice, no longer changed up and ran through a filter for Future Soul sophistication most times, but out in the open now, to express particular emotions, whether it’s in that swooping, falling ‘I’ in the heart-break closer “Cellophane,” or her assured realisation, later on “Home With Me” where she says “But I’d save a life if I thought it belonged to you/ Mary Magdalene would never let her loved ones down.”

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It’s never about how to conquer with these women you see. In the end of all relationships it’s how they find their way out after us temporarily embarrassed conquerors are about to leave, jacket slung over shoulder, standing by the door. You squint your eyes back at her this time, and you listen this time, while she tells you, or tells the ground in front of you, what parts of love to let go of, and what parts are worth holding on to in this age of Satan, the parts that will help you become yourself. “I wonder if you think that I could never help you fly,” the song tells you then, one of those stinging admissions that only women come up with, and you wisely stay silent, and then the piano chords part, the synths subside. And for a while there as she looks at you, as the breathy sortilege in the song keeps going, it all sounds like something worth believing in again. And then, the words she says to you start to come across like laws.

#music #music review #rnb #rnb music #r&b #soul #future soul #future pop #alt soul #electronica #fka twigs #magdalene #mary magdalene #cellophane #Long Reads #sad day #hiro murai #new music

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imthequeenofcordonia · 5 years ago

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For the man who has everything

This is my contribution to @choicesfebruarychallenge that’s being hosted by the amazing @bi-cookie and @cxld-play. The prompt is: Karaoke. Thank you for including us all.

Paring: Drake x OC (Lily Rys)

Word count: 1,573

Warnings: Brief talk about mental health.

A/N: All characters belong to Pixelberry other than Lily.

Permatag: @desiree---1986

Drake and lily tags: @addictedtodrakefanfic, @msjr0119

“So we’re being joined by Crown Prince Leo and his younger sister, Princess Lily,” the Radio host, Gary Hall- a friend of Ana Di Luca’s and the host of Cordonia’s most popular radio station spoke into his microphone in front of him as he adjusted his headphones so they were more comfortable.

He turned to the royal siblings, “Thank you for coming.”

“Thank you for having us,” Lily answered.

“First things first, Leo congratulations on your engagement to Countess Madeleine.”

“Thank you,” Leo smiled.

“You and the Countess just arrived back from a very successful engagement tour. You got some extraordinary press because of it.

“We did,” Leo nodded, “It went better than we expected it too. We’re both really happy about how well it went.”

Gary nodded and turned to Lily. “Lily you also just finished your first solo tour, tell us about that.”

“It was fantastic. As you said, it was my first solo tour, I went to Aunernal, i was actually able to stay a couple of days longer than was intended and got to see where my mother grew up. Like Leo’s tour I got some amazing press and it went really well,” she explained.

“When was the last time you visited Auvernal?” Gary asked.

Lil thought for a second, “I was about seven it was just before my mother passed away.”

“Now the big reason we invited you is because of your mental health campaign. Lily you’ve been quite open about what you've struggled with in the past.”

Lily nodded, “Yeah, i think if we’re going to be telling people to open up and talk about it, it would be hypocritical if i didn't do it myself. These types of things kind of go both ways, you can’t tell someone to do something and do the complete opposite.”

“It’s a very brave thing to do,” Gary noted.

“In a way it was but it needed to happen to show that everyone, no matter who you or where you come from, that mental health issues can affect you. We’re always taught how to look after our bodies but we really need to know how to look after ourselves mentally too and how to talk about it if you are struggling,” She explained.

“Like your tours the campaign is getting a lot of attention and people are talking about it,” Gary mentioned.

“That’s exactly what we want. I couldn't be happier with how it’s going.”

“Good. Now you two agreed to answer some questions that people have texted in.”

“Yep,” Leo nodded.

“Are we going to regret this?” Lily asked.

“Quite possibly,” Gary teased. “Okay first question comes from a woman called jenny. She wants to know if you’re allowed phones?”

Leo laughed, “We are yeah.”

“Really?” Gary asked, “Have you got a family whatsapp group?”

“No, but I would love that,” Lily said, turning to her brother, “Should we get Liam, Dad and Regina to get in on It too?”

“I don't think that’s gonna happen,” Leo said, shaking his head with a grin.

“Next question is from Michael. He wants to know if Leo and Liam were in a fight, who would win?”

Leo shrugged, “Me, obviously.”

“I sense a little bit of sibling rivalry going on?”

“Just a bit,” Leo revealed, smiling.

“ He also wants to know if all three of you were in a fight, who would win then?”

“Lily,” Leo answered.

“Why?” Gary asked.

“I did mixed martial arts for about six years. I could take them both,” Lily said, rather confidently.

“I am learning so much,” Gary said excitedly. “This is the highlight of my career. Okay, we’ve got a couple more. These are one i actually want to know. Kate wants to know what you watch on TV? Do you watch stuff on royalty and you’re like, it’s not like that at all?”

Lily laughed, “Funnily enough i started watching The Crown the other week and yeah, I mean I've met the British royal family and it is kind of accurate.”

“Did you watch that movie called ‘Queen Eleanor’? Was that accurate? Because that is based on your life.”

“I have seen it,” she nodded, “There’s a few little bits in there that quite how it happened but for the most part it’s spot on.”

“Do you watch anything else?”

“I love Supernatural. I’m three seasons behind, i really need to get on that.”

“What about you Leo?” Gary asked.

“Me and Madeline have just finished Game of Thrones. We were a little bit behind, just finished it last night.”

“I haven't watched it,” lily chimed in.

“You should,” Leo advised.

“It is good. Now we’ve got two more. David asked if you’re allowed to order takeaways?”

“Yes,” Lily nodded.

“They must never believe you when you order it to the palace.”

“We don't actually order it to the palace. Somebody, that is not us, will go and pick it up,” Lily explained. “Or if your Prince Leo, he’ll do it himself.”

“I love how normal you two are,” Gary said, which caused the both of them to laugh.

“We are just people,” Lily said.

“That lives in a palace,” Gary mumbled, “Now, last question before we move on. When we see you out and about you are wearing the most regal of outfits, do you have any comfy clothes?”

“Yeah, definitely,” Leo nodded.

“Those outfits are amazing but sometimes are a little bit uncomfortable,” she revealed, “ Yeah, of course we have comfy stuff we wear at home.”

“Okay,” Gary nodded, “Today is a special day. It’s His Majesty's 70th birthday today.” the siblings nodded. “Do you still buy him presents? What do you buy for the man who has everything?”

“That is the question,” Leo said, turning to his sister.

“It’s hard. Last year Leo brought him a phone.”

“That’s perfect for your whatsapp group,” Gary chimed in.

“He actually spends a lot of time on it,” Lily revealed.

“I can imagine it: him sitting in the palace playing Candy Crush. That’s brilliant, that is.”

“He’s flying through the levels though,” Leo said.

“I was joking. Does he seriously play?”

Lily nodded, “He’s a little addicted to it actually.

“Talking of your father’s birthday: there’s a video going around the internet of you, Lily, singing his favourite song for his birthday from a few years ago.”

Lily hid her face in her hands as her body shook with laughter. When she looked back up, her face was red and her eyes were welling. “Did you have to mention that?” she jokingly scolded, “I was fourteen and this was when i was really getting into music. I was learning how to play the guitar, piano and attending singing lessons. Like we’ve said it’s hard to know what to buy him so I sang him his favourite song.”

“But the thing is you’re actually good,” Gary complemented.

“Thank you,” Lily grinned.

“Singing was a passion of yours, wasnt it?”

“It definitely was. My mother loved to sing when I was a kid, I must get it from her. The rest of the family aren't really into music like I am,” she explained.

“What’s his majesty's favourite song at the minute?”

“Someone you loved by Lewis Capaldi,” Lily explained.

“Really?” Gary asked, his brow furrowing, “I am learning so much right now. The king likes playing Candy Crush and likes Lewis Capaldi, is he a Billie Eilish fan too?”

“Actually he does like to hum the tune to bad guy so maybe,” Lily shrugged.

“So We’ve got a backing track to someone you loved,” Gary told her.

Her brow furrowed, “Okay...Where is this going?”

“I think you know, little sis,” Leo grinned at her.

“We’ve got it from good authority-”

“Our brother,” Leo interrupted.

“That his majesty is listening and we would like to know if you’d sing your dad's favourite song for his birthday? We’ve also got it on good authority that you haven't got him a present yet.”

She sighed, “I feel like i’m going to regret this: I’ll do it.”

Lily put her headphones on, adjusting them so they were properly on her ears and Leo put his on too. Lily scooted her chair closer to the table and leaned in a bit closer to the microphone. “Happy birthday dad.”

The music started to play, Lily focusing on when the right time to jump in was.

“I’m going under and this time i fear there’s no one to save me,” she started, singing into the microphone.

“Wow,” she heard Gary mutter and she continued, focusing intently on what she was making her voice do, remembering all the tricks and techniques she learnt from her teacher.

Finally she came around to the chorus, “Now, the day bleeds into nightfall and you’re not here to get me through it all, I let my guard down and you pulled the rug, I was getting kind of used to being someone you loved.”

And then finally the song drew to a close and the both men applauded the young princess, who smiled gratefully at them, removing the bulky headphones.

“That was a cover of Someone you loved by Lewis Capaldi from the extraordinary Princess Lily Rys!” Gary spoke into the mic.

Lily was grinning widely, getting sidetracked when her phone dinged. She peeked at it to see a text from her boyfriend.

Drake: You were amazing 😉

Which only caused her grin to grow wider.

#choicesfebruarychallenge #drake x oc #trr #trr Drake #the royal romance fanfic #choices fanfiction #choices:stories you play

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elysiumwaits · 5 years ago

Note

Hey! For the two words prompt, can I request some ‘moonlight dancing’, please? I’ve had a craving for some slow dancing fic for a while now and I’d love to see what you do with it. As for the pairing, some Sterek, Stucky, Merthur or even some Thor/Bruce, if any of those inspire you. Thank you. 😊

Well, the good news is that I’ve got 1800 words of sappy wedding reception Stucky for you. The bad news is that I completely dropped the ball on the “moonlight” part of the “moonlight dancing” prompt. So if you could just picture a giant moon as the backdrop for this fic, I’d appreciate it.

My timeline for this fic puts this in the February of 2019, because timelines are hard in the MCU anyway. So this would put this fic before Doris Day passed away in May. Also, I believe the MCU puts Bucky Barnes somewhere around the age of 95? So I played with that a bit.

Here, you’ll need these, make yourself a playlist and set them up for the duration of the fic:

Doris Day version: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h7j8wa9sWOE

Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j6TmogXhOZ8

Kate Smith: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dh8hW0irwpo

I refuse to link to Michael Buble because I can't stand listening to him sing thanks to many years of having to listen to one album of his on repeat at a book and toy store I worked at (and then, for two months out of the year, his Christmas album).

Nothing to tag for, no spoilers here.

I Linger On, Dear on AO3

The garden was lit by strings of fairy lights that zig-zagged overhead, and every-so-often by the big burning lanterns along the walkway that burned primarily to provide warmth to the party-goers. The moonlight did a lot for them as well, big and full above, not drowned out by the light pollution of the city. The party itself was dying down, guests having gone inside to the mansion to warm up and start saying their goodbyes, or perhaps be enticed into one more drink by their charming host and hostess.

Most of the people they knew as friends but not family would dissipate, unable to be swayed by even Tony Stark’s extensive liquor collection and insistence that they have “one more, just one more, I’m paying for all the safe transportation home, after all.” If Tony didn’t manage to convince them, Pepper just might try to ply them with the wine she can’t actually have at six and a half months pregnant.

Their family, though, won’t leave - there are rooms throughout the mansion, plenty of them, but most of them won’t be even approached until close to dawn, and it’s only a quarter until midnight now. The big celebration is over, but the smaller, more important one is just beginning, and will no doubt carry on through the night with drunken, half-sleepy conversations with people who recognize that these truly blissful moments are few and far between.

The band has packed up and gone home. Their set ended at eleven, even though Clint had to be lured away from the drummer’s kit by Natasha promising him some complicated, fancy-sounding drink that was probably just going to be vodka, V8, and Sprite. Even after he’d gotten out of the band’s hair enough that they could pack up and be tipped generously by Tony, the drummer had loudly wondered where he’d put his drumsticks, none the wiser to Clint (accidentally) taking a souvenir.

As a result, the dance floor is empty, but there’s a Bluetooth speaker built into the pavilion that Steve is taking full advantage of, albeit very quietly. His suit isn’t as neat as it was earlier, and the drink in his hand does absolutely nothing to get him anywhere even close to drunk, but he’s probably the happiest he’s ever been. He’s enjoying the peace and quiet of the garden, the distant sounds of revelry filtering through the open doors of the mansion, and the pavilion is heated so he’s not even cold.

“I want you to know that I still think an outdoor reception in the middle of February is a little ridiculous,” a warm voice says from behind him.

Steve grins and waits without turning on the bench for Bucky to get closer. He expects for Bucky to sit down next to him, but instead he gets arms wrapped around him from behind, looping across his shoulders while Bucky’s chin rests gently on the top of his head.

“That can’t be comfortable,” Steve says, grin widening. “Stealth big-spooning doesn’t count.”

“Well, if you would give me a shot at it one of these nights.” Bucky sounds amused though, and pulls away to come around the bench and stand in front of Steve.

He looks good, jacket lost and sleeves of his white button-up rolled halfway up his forearms. The tie he’d worn is undone and just hanging out of the collar of his shirt, while his hair falls halfway out of the neat ponytail he’d been wearing all day. He’s, in short, a bit of a rumpled mess, which is just how Steve likes him.

“What, you haven’t heard enough of this song?” Bucky teases when he finally hears the soft music playing through the speakers. “The Doris Day version, isn’t it? Turn it up.”

Steve obliges by reaching for his phone and turning the volume up a couple of notches, just in time to hear Doris Day sing about sweet dreams and leaving all worries behind you. They listen for the last little bit of the song before it fades away, and jazz trumpets begin. Bucky smiles then, as Ella Fitzgerald begins to sing about stars shining bright.

“Mr. Barnes,” Bucky says, and holds out his hand, “may I have this dance?”

“You may, Mr. Rogers,” Steve replies, taking his hand and allowing himself to be pulled to his feet, even as Bucky huffs out a laugh.

“I realize it’s your maiden name, but these days when I hear it I think of sweaters and the neighborhood.” Bucky falls into the lead role of the slow, swaying dance they do, metal hand placed on Steve’s waist while his other fingers curl around Steve’s. It’s a throwback to when Steve was smaller, when it made more sense for Steve to follow when Bucky was attempting to teach him to dance. Now they’re the same height, but here, Steve holds Bucky’s hand and rests his other on Bucky’s shoulder.

A faux-put-upon sigh escapes Steve. “I know, that’s why we went with Barnes. Trust me, I’ve been hearing it for years now, I don’t need it from you too.” He lets Bucky slowly move them around the empty dance floor as the soft music plays and Louis Armstrong comes in to sing with Ella.

“I don’t think the band did a bad job with it,” Bucky says after a long moment of swaying and listening. “It’s just too bad Doris Day wasn’t available, or that we didn’t get married early enough for Kate Smith or Ella Fitzgerald.”

“Doris Day is ninety-seven, Bucky,” Steve chides. “She didn’t need Tony Stark bribing her to sing our wedding song.”

“I’m ninety-seven.” Bucky chooses that moment to guide Steve into a slow spin, letting go of Steve’s waist and lifting a hand to let Steve turn, before tugging him back even closer than before. “But you probably don’t want me trying to croon into a microphone, if how you react to my karaoke is any indication.”

“Little hard to dance with you if you perform your own wedding song, Buck.”

Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong fade away, leading into soft guitar, and Bucky wrinkles his nose. “Skip this one,” he says, pausing their dance.

Steve fishes the phone out from his suit pocket, rolls his eyes and bites a smile back as he does as he’s asked. “I think Michael Buble is nice.”

Kate Smith starts to sing, piano playing to accompany. It’s not the version they heard back in the day, instead the one from the 1950s show, but Bucky starts to move them across the dance floor once more.

“He screwed up the tempo,” Bucky says. “It’s too fast. The one that came out in the 60s did too, I don’t remember what they were called.”

“The Mamas and the Papas.” Steve can’t fight the smile anymore. He’s just so ridiculously happy, and there’s a gold band glinting off the fairy lights around them on the ring finger of his left hand. “And then there’s that guy with Lily Allen. I liked that one too.”

He knows there’s a matching gold ring on a chain underneath Bucky’s white shirt. He hadn’t wanted to wear it on the Winter Soldier arm, still a sore subject more than anything, and he’d considered briefly wearing it on his right hand before finally settling on the chain he swears to Steve he’ll never take off except to shower or if he’s undercover. Steve has a chain as well - the ring isn’t terribly comfortable under the gloves of his suit, after all.

“What have you got to smile about?” Bucky pesters, like he’s not grinning too. “You’re stuck with me for good now, punk. No refunds or exchanges. You don’t even have the receipt, so HYDRA definitely won’t take me back now.”

“I think technically I stole you, so I wouldn’t have a receipt anyway.” Steve flexes his hand in Bucky’s, squeezing tight, but is careful not to do the same with the hand on Bucky’s left shoulder.

Bucky drags Steve even closer, until his hand isn’t on his waist but instead on Steve’s lower back. “You’re telling me I married a thief? I want a divorce.” At Steve’s laugh, he adds, gentler, “What are you smiling about, Stevie?”

“Sam’s best man speech,” Steve teases, even though they both know that’s not exactly what’s got him so happy. “He spent the whole time insulting you, and you still cried. You can’t fool me, Buck, I saw you wipe a tear away when you thought nobody was looking.”

“Only because he was my best man, and he spent the whole time insulting me.” Bucky’s grumbling, but he can’t hide the twinkle in his eye. “Seriously, ‘you stay on a man’s left for years and his elderly ex-boyfriend shows up to sweep him off his feet, so now you gotta move even farther to the left,’ and people laughed! Clint asked if I got a senior discount on my suit.”

Steve laughs. “You were the one that asked about a senior discount on the suit when we went to get them fitted!”

The playlist loops around, and Doris Day starts again.

Bucky leans forward, pressing his cheek to Steve’s. “What are you smiling about, Steve? What’s got you so happy?” he asks one more time, softly, like he doesn’t already know, while Doris Day softly sings that night breezes seem to whisper ‘I love you.’

“You said it yourself,” Steve murmurs, couldn’t stop grinning even if he wanted to. “I’m stuck with you for good now. No refunds or exchanges, don’t even have the receipt.” He pauses, loops his arm more firmly around Bucky’s neck. “‘Til the end of the line.”

“Sap,” Bucky says, and his voice is a little rough, just like it had been during Sam’s best man speech. “You’re gonna whip out that line every time you get the chance, huh? Just because you know it gets to me.”

“Well, it is actually a vow now. The ‘’til death do us part’ vow obviously didn’t apply to either of us, so I had to get creative.” They’ve stopped actually moving their feet, just standing and holding each other while swaying. “Now you know how much I mean it.”

“I always knew you meant it,” Bucky says. “Now stop trying to make me cry at my own wedding reception for the second time in one night.”

“Third.”

“One of those was at the altar, not the reception, it doesn’t count.” Bucky starts to pull away, but Steve holds fast. “I was supposed to come and bring you inside. They’re probably taking blackmail photos from the windows.”

“You called the official photos that we paid for blackmail too.” Steve tugs Bucky back into him, pressing himself close. “One more dance.”

“Yeah,” Bucky agrees, relaxes and starts to guide them around the floor once more. “One more. But in your dreams, whatever they be…”

Above them, the lights twinkle, and around them drifts the soft lyrics of their song, as they slowly sway together. Steve smiles, and listens to Bucky’s off-key singing, gentle in his ear.

“Dream a little dream of me.”

#stucky #fic prompt #fanfiction #writing #dream a little dream of me

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writershapeholeonthedoor · 6 years ago

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Imagine Vampire!Bella and Human!Rosalie headcanons

A while ago I decided to question how it would have been and you guys gave me some good ideas, so here we go

-The Hale's moved to Forks after their daugther was attacked and raped by her boyfriend and his friends. The family thought that moving to a smaller town, away from New York and the jerk who got free from jail was the best for them;

-Rosalie would have a lot of trusting issues because of that, but would also be very quiet and scared;

-Bella would see her in the corner of the cafeteria, looking around like she was expecting someone to jump from somewhere;

-Jasper would let her know how scared the girl is, and then Edward would tell her exactly why. Bella would be so damn mad and sad;

-She has to approach with extreme caution. Rosalie actually ignores her the first five times she tried to initiate a conversation;

-Bella knowing she has to tell Rosalie what she is, what her family is, but being so fucking scared to do, since Rosalie don't exactly trust her;

-Bella takes Rosalie to her house a lot even before telling her the truth. Esme is so happy and cooks everything Rosalie likes (she makes Edward tells her);

-Rosalie would be really unconfortable around Edward, Jasper and Carlisle, but not with Emmett. At first she thought it was because he was Bella's twin (that was the story they were playing at the time), but she realized it was just because it was his goofy personality;

-The first person Rosalie would ever tell her history out loud would be Esme, because Esme tells her about her first husband;

-Bella would tell Rosalie about her being a vampire in the girl house. She wanted to do it somewhere she could feel safe, not stuck, and felt like she could just sent Bella away if she wanted;

-Rosalie would laught, roll her eyes, maybe throw a pillow at her;

-"Yeah, right. Very fun. You're not scaping from meeting my parents tomorow.";

-Freaking out when she realizes Bella is not joking. Bella just turned a rock into ashes in front of her. Not chill about it like Bella in the canon version;

-She would be really scared. Scared that Bella would hurt her, that she was only playing with her. Rosalie would sent her away;

-Days without talking. Absolute silence. Ignoring Bella or her brothers like a fucking ninja. Not even looking at the girl directions;

-Bella would be miserable. She would sit with Edward in his room and listen to his really sad songs and try her best to cry to get the sadness out;

-It could go for months, until Rosalie finally appears in her house after school;

-"If you ever hurt me, I'm out.";

-But Bella wouldn't ever do it. Never. Not even by accident, because she is so careful and delicated and loving with her mate that no harm could ever happen to her;

-Going on dates every week. If Bella gets the permission, she takes Rosalie to Seattle to enjoy a night out. But they mostly stay in Forks and do small things, like have dinner, walking in the forest, watching the sunset, going swimmimg at the lake nearby, playing piano, talking;

-Rosalie wouldn't say that she loves Bella at first, even if Bella told her that all the time. The first time she ever said that, she cried like a baby because she was so scared;

-The conversation of turning Rosalie would come a few days before graduation. Of course both have thought about it, but they never talked about it;

-Bella almost dies when Rosalie says she don't want to be a vampire. She likes being human, she will lost so many things if she get turned, she just can't;

-Rosalie wishes things were different. She dream about a life where Bella is human too, and they graduate, go to college, get married, find jobs, have three or four kids, buy a house somewhere nice and quiet, and became old together;

-Bella dreams about spending eternity with Rosalie. But she decides to take what she can;

-Bella would cut her connection with the Cullen's so they will be safe if the Volturi finds out about Rosalie and her;

-They go to college together. Every two months or so, they discuss Rosalie decision to remain human again. Bella understands her point, but she just can't live without Rose;

-After they graduate (Rosalie goes to engeneering, while Bella takes another degree in psicology), they buy an apartment in a small city next to Toronto;

-Rosalie is already 24, and they have been together for almost six years, when she whispers to Bella that she wants to be with her forever;

-But she asks for a few more time;

-Bella can wait;

-Rosalie is 26 when she's turned. She's absolutely sure of what she's doing, even if that means never have the family full of kids she always dreamed about;

-They live with the Denali's for a while. Rosalie and Tanya became best friends, and Bella and Kate are like lost sisters, so is really nice. They go skiing, build snow mans, make some snow balls wars, and have the best time;

-Until they go back to the Cullen's and Rosalie feels like she can have her family after all.

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shortstoriesthatneedahome · 6 years ago

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Tom Hiddleston One Shot

Orchestra Box

The sing above inspired this one shot.

Rating: G - pure fluff

Please be kind this is my first ever one shot.

—————

She knew going into the concert it would be hard. “A Night of Love Songs” was the name of the concert but she paid too much to sit at home and eat ice cream alone. Again.

She made it through the first two pieces without any real issue. Beautiful music for a crazy world and she needed to get out of the crazy world she was living in. Then the final piece before intermission began. The Love Theme for Sabrina.

It’s not like she had an emotion attached to this song. She vaguely remembered watching the film in her teen years but that was ages before Steve entered her life. But that didn’t stop the tears from falling down her cheeks or her shoulders to start to move up and down with her heavier breathing. Wiping away the tears she knew if she didn’t get a tissue or something fast mascara would be running all down her face.

She debated getting up and walking out of her box when the man sharing the box with her two seats over filled the gap between them handed her his handkerchief. He then put his arm around her shoulders pulling her into him. Kate was too deep into her tears to notice who the man was until he whispered with his smooth British accent “It’s okay, darling. You’re going to be alright.”

She knew that was Tom Hiddleston. She had just seen his play in London and could recognize it from anywhere. Kate wiped the tears from her face and barely whispered back “Thank you” as the piece was ending.

They sat for a while with his arm around her and Kate’s head on his chest while the auditorium emptied to the lobby for drinks. When you finally moved you awkwardly looked at him and said, “Thank you so much. I can’t thank you enough. And I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable.” He shook his head replying “Do not apologize. Music moves us in ways we can’t even begin to understand. Besides you looked like you could have used a friend.” Smiling at you, you realized that you were sill quite close to one another. With the scent of his cologne still lingering in the air and in your hair from leaning on him.

“I completely agree with that statement. Music says what words can not.“ you reply starting to get a little more comfortable around him. “I guess I should introduce myself, I’m Kate.” You finish holding your hand out.

“Kate!” He says kissing my hand, “I’m Tom” he replies smiling. “I know we just met but would you do me the honour of having a drink with me?”

Kate’s mind was going a mile a minute. Why was this man being so kind? Should I explain why I was crying? I should offer to mail him his handkerchief after I wash it.

He saw you were thinking and asked again “Kate, I know that you’re probably busy and you probably have a boyfriend but...”

I do NOT have a boyfriend!” You realize you’re voice was a little louder than it should be so you quickly added “I’d love to grab drinks with you!”

Tom chuckled “well that’s one thing I’m glad I don’t have to worry about. Obsessive ex’s”

You laughed before turning the conversation more serious “I don’t know why I started crying like that. I think it just sounds like the most perfect romantic soundtrack. The piano and strings just melt me. You can hear the turmoil that their relationship goes through but in the end it all falls back into place, right where it should.”

“Well let’s home this is the start of those pieces falling into perfect place.” He quietly whispers into your hear before pulling you into his arms, holding you tight as the lights go down for the start of the second half of the concert.

The end!

If you have any constructive feedback message me. 🙂

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x ofc #hiddleston #fan fic writing #tom hiddleston fandom #ton hiddleston fan fiction #writing #ton hiddleston writing #loki #tom hiddleston loki #music #sabrina 1995 #harrison ford #piano music #orchestral music

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pastelgrungewrecker · 7 years ago

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Dear Papa Bear,

It’s the twenty fifth of July, in the year 2017.

And I’m writing to the person you were back in 1994. Or maybe I’m writing to the you I left behind in Ohio, with something cold settling where my feet sat in heels that never did fit me right.

I don’t know. Both of them are strangers to me.

I want to see the you I remember, again. The man who wore a donkey kong tshirt, and drank his coffee after forgetting about it for hours while he played crash bandicoot.

The one who let me sit in his lap and drink my kool aid. Who let kate the cat sit with us, even if she was a weird looking stuffed animal.

I miss him every day, you know that? Sometimes I look for him in the photo albums, and i find him. And i miss him even more.

He used to hold my hand, when we walked to the park. Dennis the Menace park, remember? It was near where we lived on base. And he’d kiss the owwies after washing them with cold water from the fountain, and taught me how to rollerblade.

He used to tell me that I could be in the X Games. That dreaming was doing.

I miss him.

I used to fall asleep against him, and trace the bauhaus tattoo on his arm. And I’d ask him what it meant.

And he’d tell me it meant he was still learning. he was still figuring out who he was, and that that was okay.

He’d watch me write, and he’d cheer when I showed him the stories little girls make up in the summer sun.

Sometimes he yelled at me, it happens. He only yelled when he was scared, when I could be hurt. When i was in danger. And he’d scoop me up when I cried so hard my chest hurt, and when my ears leaked blood because genetics was a cruel mistress. And he put warm rags on my neck when it was so swollen I couldn’t swallow. couldn’t breathe.

He made sure to get chocolate chip ice cream after I got out of surgery.

but... daddy, he went away. I don’t know why he went away. I was a good girl. I was a winner. I brought home awards.

Who are you?

Who did you become?

Why?

It’s... easier to joke about now. It’s easier to laugh about your “punishments” for “dirty girls”. Easy to laugh about cleaning house while you drank yourself into a case of Miller Lite. Sometimes I can even sleep with the closet door open.

It’s easy to laugh at my loose sleeping habits. To chuckle at the kinds of guys and girls I went for, wooed, slept with, and left behind- Easy to cackle when I remember them crying.

It’s easier to use my nightmares as a punchline. To remember the day you ripped apart my notebooks and scattered them everywhere.

To remember my rings, sliced into peices with the cutter in your garage- do you remember that? You found out they were men’s rings, remember? Thick and bulky and out of place on hands as small as mine. But they were warm, warm when my hands were numb from whatever was in my system. I wore them on my thumb, and my middle finger. I switched them, when I was able to smoke more freely.

Hands that played piano for you at little recitals, playing Beethoven and Bach. Hands that played whatever song was stuck in my head, to your neverending delight.

Stained by nicotine now. It never comes off.

My writer’s callous, on my right hand. The one you told me to get rid of... That I tried to file off in your bathroom, gritting my teeth because I refused to cry no matter how much my finger bled.

It didn’t work. You were angry that the file broke.

They told you I wasn’t well. When I was in high school. Mom was drunk, so drunk, and she called you on the phone and said “She has depression. PTSD. They think it’s from our divorce. You better help fix her.”

You told me the medicine was poison. That it would make me ugly, and bad.

You told me I wasn’t... sexy.

You told me I looked like a man.

“Kevin, she has PCOS. They said her body is producing testosterone in amounts that warp things.”

You laughed and flicked my throat, saying I looked like I had an Adam’s Apple. You put your hands on my shoulders and pushed down.

Tuck these in, sweet pea, be girly. be pretty. Be right.

I never fit in this.... body. I told you that. I never felt like a Girl. I wasn’t a girl, not really. Not in my head, not in my heart, not in anything. I wasn’t a boy either, stop calling me those words.

Men’s clothes fit me, they have more room for a body that wasn’t one or the other.

I told you so many truths. I told you so many things. I wanted to be real to you again. A person.

Maybe, if I reminded you I was here, and hurting... You’d come back.

There’s still a crying kid inside of me. They wipe their nose on their sleeve, they scream for you to come get them. To kiss those scraped knees and help them tighten those rollerblades so we can go down the hill so fast we fly.

Little me still doesn’t understand. Doesn’t know why you and Mom couldn’t just love each other. Couldn’t work things out. Why we couldn’t be a family anymore.

I watch her, from the age of twenty five chainsmoking Marlboros with scars covering me from head to toe. After ripping the hair out of my chin, of my upper lip, after washing my face and checking to make sure the lump of my throat doesn’t protrude too much. After making sure my eyebrows aren’t too thick, and humming high to make sure my voice doesn’t drop low again.

Sometimes people on the phone mistake me for you.

Sometimes, they think I’m mom’s new boyfriend they haven’t met. Even though she hasn’t dated anyone since I made jeremiah cry with my sleep rough voice and bitter words.

I’m on a hundred milligrams now. They give me trazodone to sleep- they wanted to give me tramadol, but I begged them not to give me a narcotic. Please.

I’ve been so many different people. And none of them were good enough. And you, and mom... You never told me who I was supposed to be.

Hearing my old nicknames is so jarring. Hearing my full name makes my teeth grind and hearing anyone say I Love You fills me with such cold fear that it burns my throat.

I’m in love, again. They don’t remind me of you at all.

I miss you.

Sincerely,

Pooh Bear.

#do not reboob please #venting #fathers #abuse mention #referenced csa

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papermoonloveslucy · 7 years ago

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Lucy Puts Main Street on the Map

S5;E18 ~ January 30, 1967

Synopsis

Trying to think of a way to help bring the town of Bancroft's story to the rest of America, Lucy and the town fathers stage a gun battle to get national news coverage.

Regular Cast

Lucille Ball (Lucy Carmichael), Gale Gordon (Theodore J. Mooney)

Mary Jane Croft (Mary Jane Lewis) and Roy Roberts (Mr. Cheever) do not appear in this episode.

Guest Cast

Mel Tormé (Mel Tinker) returns to play Lucy's neighbor Mel having previously played the role in “Lucy in the Music World” (S4;E3) and “Main Street U.S.A.” (S5;E17). Tormé was a musician nicknamed ‘the velvet fog’. He was best known as a singer of jazz standards. He was also a jazz composer and arranger, drummer, an actor in radio, film, and television, and the author of five books. He composed the music for “The Christmas Song” (“Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire”) and co-wrote the lyrics with Bob Wells. He died in 1999 at the age of 73.

John William Sublett (John Bubbles) was known as the "Father of Rhythm Tap,” and was the original Sportin' Life on Broadway in Porgy and Bess (1935). Since he did not read music, George Gershwin had to teach him the songs note by note. Sublett was his birth name but his stage name was Bubbles, which he uses as his character name here. He appeared in the previous episode “Main Street U.S.A.” (S5;17). He had a stroke and had to retire from show business. He died in 1986.

Although not the first black face on a Lucille Ball sitcom, Sublett has the distinction of being the first to be be billed as a guest star and to be an integral part in the storyline.

Paul Winchell (Doc Putnam) previously played himself in “Lucy and Paul Winchell” (S5;E4). He was born Paul Wilchinsky in 1922. Coming into the public eye in 1948, he became one of the most famous ventriloquists since Edgar Bergen. He hosted the enormously popular children’s television show “Winchell-Mahoney Time” (1964-68) in which he shared the spotlight with Jerry Mahoney, one of his most popular characters. Winchell is fondly remembered as the voice of Winnie the Pooh’s pal Tigger and (later) Papa Smurf. He played Doc Putnam in “Main Street U.S.A.” (S5;17), as well as doing two episodes of “Here’s Lucy.” Surprisingly, Winchell was also an inventor who is credited with the artificial heart, among other innovations. He died in 2005.

Paul Winchell was most famous as a ventriloquist, but he does not do ventriloquism in this episode. He cherished the opportunity to act without his dummies. Winchell learned to play violin for this episode.

Hal Smith (Mr. Weber) is probably best remembered as Otis Campbell, the town drunk, on “The Andy Griffith Show,” even though in real life he never drank alcohol. He appeared with Lucille Ball in the 1963 film Critic’s Choice. This is the third of his three appearance on “The Lucy Show.” He reprises the role of Mr. Weber last seen in “Main Street U.S.A.” (S5;E17) and did one episode of “Here’s Lucy” in 1972.

In the previous episode Mr. Weber could not get his tuba from around his waist. In this episode he is still wearing it!

Burt Mustin (Old Uncle Joe) was born in 1884. He didn't do his first film until age 67, although his stage and radio career started earlier. He was generally cast as the stereotypical little old man. He is probably best remembered as Mr. Quigley on “All in the Family” and Mr. Lanson on “Phyllis.” He played Old Uncle Joe in the previous episode and did a 1973 episode of “Here's Lucy.” Mustin also played Uncle Jeff in Lucy’s Mame (1974). He died at age 92.

Carole Cook (Aunt Carrie) played Thelma Green on the series when it was set in Danfield. She was a protege of Lucille Ball’s during the Desilu Playhouse years. Although born as Mildred Cook, Ball suggested she take the name Carole, in honor of Lucy’s great friend, Carole Lombard. Cook also went on to appear in five episodes of “Here’s Lucy.”

Aunt Carrie is a relative of Mel Tinker. The character did not appear in the previous episode.

Dan Rowan (Dan McGowan) was the comedy partner of Dick Martin, who played Lucy’s boyfriend Harry on season 1 of “The Lucy Show.” He is best known as the co-host of “Rowan and Martin’s Laugh-In” which aired from 1968 to 1973 and earned him a 1972 Emmy Award. In 1966 he had appeared with Lucille Ball on “The Dean Martin Show.” This is the second of his two appearances on “The Lucy Show.” He died in 1987 at age 65.

Dan McGowan is a TV reporter with the National News Service.

Roy Barcroft (Police Chief Tinker) had more than 375 screen credits from 1931 to 1970. He played the Marshall in the screen adaptation of Oklahoma! (1955). This is his only appearance with Lucille Ball.

The character is the father of Mel Tinker.

Bennett Green (Cameraman with National News Service, uncredited) was Desi Arnaz’s stand-in during “I Love Lucy.” He does frequent background work on “The Lucy Show.”

Some of the Bancroft Townspeople (uncredited) are played by:

Walter Bacon was last seen in “Lucy Wins a Racehorse,” a 1958 episode of “The Lucy-Desi Comedy Hour.” Bacon played 'townsmen' on many TV westerns.

Joan Carey was a frequent background performer on “I Love Lucy” and “The Lucy Show,” where she often served as Lucille Ball’s stand-in.

Nick Borgani appeared with Lucille Ball in the 1937 film Stage Door. He will also be seen in two episodes of “Here's Lucy.”

Victor Romito was last seen as the Bartender in “Lucy Meets John Wayne” (S5;E10). He also appeared in four episodes of “Here’s Lucy.” Romito was an extra in the 1960 Lucille Ball / Bob Hope film Critic’s Choice.

Glen Walters was a Canadian actress who's career spanned from 1926 to 1973. This is her only appearance with Lucille Ball.

Judith Woodbury makes the seventh of her eight (mostly) uncredited appearances on “The Lucy Show.” She also appeared in one episode of “Here’s Lucy.”

The actor with the gray beard and overalls who is referred to as 'Farmer Brown' in the previous episode “Main Street U.S.A.” (S5;17) returns in this episode.

Other citizens of Bancroft are played by uncredited background artists, most of whom were likely in the previous episode as well.

This episode was filmed in mid-December 1966, shortly after the completion of “Main Street U.S.A.” (S5;E17). Although stand-alone in their plots, this episode is a continuation of the previous one, which also takes place in the small town of Bancroft.

This is the only episode of season five that is still under copyright protection and not in public domain.

Coincidentally, this episode first aired on Dick Martin’s 45th birthday. He previously played Lucy Carmichael’s boyfriend Harry on the series. His comedy partner Dan Rowan plays a reporter in this episode.

The dance sequences were choreographed by Jack Baker.

Bancroft is supposedly located in California, but feels more like a mid-western or northeastern town. Although this is a fictional location, there is a Bancroft outside of San Francisco. At the time of filming, however, it was known as Hookston, is an unincorporated community in Contra Costa County.

Mel Tormé wrote the original song “Main Street U.S.A.” especially for these two episodes. It was first sung at the end of the previous episode and is reprised at the start of this one. Here we learn that it was Lucy Carmichael who wrote the songs lyrics to Mel Tinker’s music. Torme also wrote and sings the ballad “In Our Home Town,” a tribute to small town life. In 1944 he had a hit with another ‘town’ song titled “Stranger in Town” and in 1959 released an album titled Back in Town.

As ‘Carrot Top Carmichael’ Lucy says she plans to be the “most vicious, cold blooded killer since Ma Barker.” Kate Barker (1873–1935, inset photo) was the mother of several criminals who ran the Barker gang. She traveled with her sons during their criminal careers. FBI director J. Edgar Hoover described her as “the most vicious, dangerous and resourceful criminal brain of the last decade.” Barker was last mentioned in “Lucy and the Great Bank Robbery” (S3;E5). Ma Barker was parodied as Ma Parker in a 1970 episode of “Here’s Lucy” (above) starring Carole Cook (who plays Aunt Carrie here).

Behind the TV camera atop the station wagon is a shop called Grandma Thompson’s Bakery. This is likely a tribute to director Maury Thompson and producer Tommy Thompson, who were not related.

Marl Young is credited with the dance music for John Bubbles.

Callbacks!

Back in Danfield, construction of a new freeway was the cause of the destruction of their roadside cafe when “Lucy and Viv Open a Restaurant” (S2;E20).

The residents of East 68th Street planned a big block party when Ricky Ricardo came home from Hollywood in “The Homecoming” (ILL S5;E6).

Blooper Alerts!

Sound Slip! Mel plays “Our Home Town” on an old upright piano, but on the soundtrack it is not a piano, but a harpsichord.

Popular Print! The painting above Lucy’s left shoulder in the Tinker parlor was previously seen in Lucy’s Danfield living room and later in Viv’s bedroom.

Smile For The Camera(s)! When Lucy and Mel break into song for the TV news, they perform with their backs to the camera, which is still atop the station wagon behind them.

Bloody Bad Idea! Even though the gun battle is staged to woo reporter McGowan to Bancroft to publicize a good cause, a pile of bullet-ridden corpses and a whopping lie seem a dubious way to bring attention to the joys of small town life. Ironically, right after the corpses get up, Mel sings “it's peaceful and quiet, there's never a riot, in my home town.”

Soft Goods at the Hardware Store! A sign in the window of the Hardware Store advertises an unusual item - Matador Scarfs! Why would a small-town hardware store stock matador scarfs?

Ready! Aim! Kerplunk! When 'Carrot Top Carmichael' surrenders, she throws her guns aside and knocks a bright yellow tea kettle off the hardware store porch. When the tin kettle hits the deck, the lid pops off and rolls across the set!

Roll Call! Bancroft's Mayor (played by Barry Kelley in the previous episode) does not show up for the big block party / gun battle. Surely this would be an occasion suitable for the Mayor’s participation. Perhaps he disapproved of the entire escapade? More likely Desilu needed to keep their budget in mind in this expensive episode.

FAST FORWARD!

Years later, Paul Winchell’s daughter April wrote about her father’s relationship with Lucille Ball, her mother Nina, and this episode:

Not everyone loved Lucy. My mother, for example, couldn't stand her. And Lucy returned the favor. In fact, they had a showdown on the set of ‘The Lucy Show’ that remains the most artful display of bitchery I ever witnessed.

It all started when I was about six years old. I remember my dad getting off the phone and yelling for my mother. He had just been given a recurring role as Lucy's Grandfather [*], and he was as excited as I had ever seen him.

It was a demanding part. He had to dance quite a bit, and even learn to play the violin. And since he was only about 45 at the time, he had to do it all wearing heavy old age make-up and a full wig. He spent hours under the hot lights, sometimes getting lightheaded in his three-piece tweed suit. All things considered, it was probably one of the hardest jobs my father ever had. And he loved every minute of it. My dad, Paul Winchell, was a ventriloquist, and by this time, he was already a very successful man.

Naturally, a puppet-free gig like this was important to him, and he took it very seriously. He rehearsed difficult dance routines in our garage at night, and worked long days on the set without complaint. And along the way, he and Lucy developed a lasting friendship based on mutual respect, a common work ethic and a shared affection for recreational drugs. Yes, my father loved his drugs. My mother, determined to save their marriage, began watching him vigilantly, and attempted to rid him of every acquaintance he used with. Unfortunately, she couldn't broom Lucy from their lives. And so the three of them tried to find an uneasy peace, which was impossible.

It all came to a head during rehearsals for an episode called, "Lucy Puts Main Street on the Map". This was a big two-parter, with lots of guest stars. On this particular day, my father was rehearsing a parade scene. This was a big, complicated musical number with close to a hundred people on the soundstage. There were majorettes, townspeople, a marching band, and of course, Gale Gordon, Vivian Vance [*] and Lucy herself, wearing white go-go boots and a white patent leather vest. My mother and I sat in the bleachers that would later hold the studio audience, watching my father work. And he was working very, very hard. Over and over again, he would run out into the middle of the street, do a jig, play a violin solo and disappear back into the crowd. My father had polio as a kid, and one of his legs was shorter than the other.

All the standing and dancing was taking a toll, so when Lucy stopped the action to look through the camera, he politely asked her if he could take a break. She was very understanding, and told him to sit with us for a while. She asked if he was thirsty, and when he said yes, a glass of orange juice instantly appeared. Dad made his way over to the bleachers, and we watched the scene for while. After drinking about half of the juice, he handed the glass to my mother, who took a sip. Suddenly, Lucy stopped the rehearsal.

"Wait a minute, wait a minute, cut, cut, cut," she shouted.

The playback music of the marching band stopped abruptly, and everyone fell silent. Lucy turned and looked at my mother.

"What are you drinking?" she yelled.

"Who, me?"

"Yes, you. What are you drinking?"

"Orange juice."

"Did I buy that orange juice for you?"

"I gave it to her, Lucy," my father said sheepishly.

"That's not the point, Paul. I bought that juice for you. If I knew she was going to drink it, I'd have made her pay for it."

This was bad. This was very bad. My mother was not afraid of anyone, and I really expected this to get ugly in a hurry. She rose to her feet, and I braced myself. All the blood drained from my father's face. Time stood still. Then she did something surprising. My mother turned to me, and held out her hand. I took it, and we began to leave. I looked over my shoulder and saw the entire cast watching us, stock-still. My mother pushed through the heavy stage door into the sunlight, and we were on our way.

By the time we got back to the studio, everyone had gone to lunch. My mother understood where my father was, and headed straight for Lucy's trailer. She led me up the steps to the door, and without knocking, went in. Lucy and my father were sitting on the couch, eating lunch. When he saw my mother, he froze in terror, certain that the angel of death was passing over his career.

"Lucy," my mother said, "I have something to say to you."

Lucy eyed my mother cautiously. "Yes, Nina?"

"I want you to know how sorry I am about what happened this morning."

My father's shoulders sagged with relief.

Lucy was stunned. "Well, I . . . that's okay, Nina. Don't worry about it."

"No," my mother continued, "I feel badly to have taken advantage of you when you've been so kind to us."

"Forget it," she said.

"I will. But only after you've accepted this gift."

My mother held out a gaily-wrapped box from Saks. Lucy genuinely did not know what to say. She looked at the box, then at my father, then at my mother, then me, then the box again. She took the box and carefully opened it. Inside was a pullover sweater made of glittering gold yarn. Metallic knits were all the rage those days, and it was obvious that mom had spent a good deal of money on it. Lucy held it up against herself, delighted. It set off her red hair and blue eyes beautifully. She looked up at my mother, who was smiling beatifically.

"Thank you, Nina."

"You're welcome, Lucy."

My father was beaming. The next day, Lucy showed up on the set wearing the gold sweater. A few hours later, my mother arrived, wearing the exact same sweater in silver. I learned an important lesson that day. You can catch more flies with honey than you can with vinegar. And once you catch them, pull their little fucking wings off.

[*] These small facts are slightly incorrect. The character is not Lucy’s Grandfather and Vivian Vance was not in the show or on set. Chalk it up to the memory of a six year old!

“Lucy Puts Main Street on the Map” rates 2 Paper Hearts out of 5

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buttermybooks · 8 years ago

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HI HELLO IT’S ME AND I AM BACK WITH ANOTHER AWESOME POST! I am so excited to have the opportunity to share a playlist from the amazing Emily Barr; inspired by her upcoming book THE ONE MEMORY OF FLORA BANKS.

This book first hit my radar when an arc showed up in my grab bag from YallFest in November. Immediately after we got the book, @thebookblr started reading it, and LOVED it. Taking her word for it, I dove right in and also LOVEDDDD it. I absolutely flew through this book, finishing in 4 hours, and then cursing myself for not savoring it more!!!

I will leave a link to a playlist inspired by her time writing this book, as well as a little background from Emily on each song that was included. Buy links and Synopsis below the cut!!

(To listen to the playlist on spotify, click here)

Flora Playlist

I listen to a lot of music when I write: it’s best when played loud. Music helps me block out the sound of the outside world: it’s too easy to be distracted by letters dropping on the doormat, the slamming of a car door, a conversation in the street.

When I need to blast out words to beat a deadline, I blast out opera. It helps that I don’t speak Italian or German so no stories impinge on the one I’m writing. The operatic voices become beautiful instruments. If I need to sink into a deep and meditative period of concentration - to iron out troublesome plot wrinkles - I drift over to sweeping classical music: Brahms, Beethoven, Rachmaninoff, Shostakovich or Chopin. I played the cello for year, and cello music is my comfort blanket.

However, early on in the process, when a book is beginning to take real shape, when ideas are bubbling faster than I can type them, when my characters can be anything or do anything, and I simply have to follow the threads and see what happens; this is when certain songs and certain albums become addictive. They start to soundtrack the novel. I played the songs on this playlist throughout the process of writing Flora Banks. I played them when I stopped writing, closed the laptop and had to get on with the day to day domestic chores. I can never quite switch off from thinking about the book I am writing, so all the while these songs were playing, a little bit of my brain was thinking about Flora Banks.

1: Glacier / John Grant / John Grant and the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra: Live in Concert

This whole album is sublime. Witty, tender, hugely melodic songs and a full orchestra. Some songs are dark and some are romantic. John Grant is a wonder. He writes songs from the heart and sings them beautifully. He has had his demons and been close to the brink. He is also a huge lover of Scandinavia. In fact, I used him as the inspiration for the character of Toby in Flora Banks. Glacier is actually a song about the conflict between the church and gay rights, but the message is clear: be brave and find your own answers.

“Don't listen to anyone; get answers on your own

Even if it means that sometimes you feel quite alone

No one on this planet can tell you what to believe

People like to talk a lot, and they like to deceive”

And when one is brave in the face of adversity, wonderful things can happen:

“This pain

It is a glacier moving through you

And carving out deep valleys

And creating spectacular landscapes

And nourishing the ground”

2: Looped / Kiasmos / Kiasmos

I played this album endlessly while writing this book. Every note of it matches Flora’s adventure. It is subtle and it reveals more with each listen. I love the pulses and the swooping strings and the periods of calm and the bursts of danger. The album is full of looped musical phrases that build and fall away and build again. There are some structural similarities to Flora in this respect. This particular song soundtracks Flora’s boat trip, away from the town and out in to the Arctic wilds.

Kiasmos is a duo and features the legendary Icelandic composer Ólafur Arnalds. Which leads us on to…

3: 3055 / Ólafur Arnalds / Arnalds: Eulogy for Evolution

I first listened to this album just before I first travelled to Svalbard in 2013. It’s by turns elegiac and joyous. This song in particular hits the spot. You can hear those Scandinavian winds and the piano is so delicate. Then in come the drums when you’re least expecting it.

4: Everybody’s Talkin’ / Iggy Pop / Après

I love Iggy Pop: seventy this year and as charming and as charismatic as ever. Thankfully he managed to survive the 2016 (Cohen! Bowie! Prince!) In 2012 he put out this album of covers. Most of the songs are French and Iggy croons throughout in his deep and croaky tremolo. Nobody could have predicted an album of such melodic easy listening. In it’s own way, it’s a pretty punk thing to do. I play this album a lot while cooking and it always made me smile. This song feels Flora like, especially when she is leaving Penzance.

“Everybody’s talking at me

I don't hear a word they're saying

Only the echoes of my mind

People stopping, staring

I can't see their faces

Only the shadows of their eyes

I'm going where the sun keeps shining.”

5: Where is my mind? / The Pixies / Surfer Rosa

I love this song. This song is playing in the opening scene, in which Flora is feeling out of place at a house party. The title is apt but completely unintentional - I just love the song. A dose of Pixies is good for the soul. Frank Black’s voice blows away the cobwebs.

6: Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band (Reprise) / The Beatles / Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band

I adore The Beatles. How did they do so much in so little time? Aside from their massive cultural impact, they simply knew how to construct a song and perform it perfectly. When The Beatles hit Spotify for the first time, I binge listened. It soundtracked the whole of Christmas. Flora listens to this album when she’s left home alone. The album also contains the song ‘She’s leaving home’ - something I only noticed while compiling this playlist.

7: Atmos VIII / A Winged Victory for the Sullen / Atmos

This album is hypnotic. It’s sort of ambient, droning, glacial, electronic classical. It hums and purrs and scrapes and whooshes. It’s meditative and clever. This song sounds like it’s echoing in a cathedral. Play it as loud as you can and let it hit you in the chest. To me this is what Svalbard sounds like.

8: The Beigeness / Kate Tempest / Everybody Down

I am in awe of Kate Tempest! She was born in 1985 and has already achieved more than most do in a lifetime. She is an award winning poet, an insightful novelist and a gifted rapper. She writes about real issues and is a fearless role model for young women. I love this song. And I like the message: stand up for yourself and don’t fade into the beigeness. Be heard and be seen. I think Flora has some of that spirit. Tempest’s follow up album ‘Let them eat chaos’ is a masterpiece. I am following her career with interest: I can’t wait to see what she’ll do next.

9: How Long? / Julia Holter / Have You in my Wilderness

Again - an album I played over and over. Julia Holter is brilliant and this is such a polished album, simultaneously complicated and accessible. It feels like looking into somebody’s mind and not quite understanding the thoughts and feelings that are there. This song gives me goosebumps. It is woozy and intimate and her voice is spellbinding.

10: Northern Lights / Ola Gjeilo - Voces8 / Ola Gjeilo

Gjeilo is a young Norwegian composer and his work is gorgeous. Last summer my partner Craig and I spent a week in Tromsø, which is in the Arctic Circle in Northern Norway. There’s a cathedral in Tromsø, and it’s s a magical place beside the water with spectacular acoustics. Through the summer they run midnight concerts: we went to one and heard a mixture of Bach, Mozart and traditional Norwegian music. It was still light when we got there, and just a little bit dusky as we walked back over the bridge to our hotel. This piece - although it’s called Northern Lights and so is from the opposite end of the year - takes me straight back to that evening.

About The Author:

Emily Barr (www.emilybarr.com) began her career as a journalist at the Guardian before realizing that she was drawn more toward books. After taking a year to go backpacking for a column assignment, she returned home with the idea for her first book, the New York Times bestseller Backpack, and never looked back. She has since written 11 additional books for adults. The One Memory of Flora Banks is her young adult debut. Emily lives in Cornwall with her partner and their children. You can follow her on Twitter @emily_barr.

Synopsis:

Seventeen-year-old Flora Banks has no short-term memory. She lives under the careful watch of her parents, in a town she is familiar with, among people who are equally familiar with her story. She has not been able to recall any part of her past since she was ten, when the tumor that was removed from her brain took with it her ability to make new memories. That is, until she kisses Drake, her best friend's boyfriend, the night before he leaves town. Miraculously, this singular memory breaks through Flora's fractured mind, and sticks. Flora is convinced that Drake and their shared kiss are responsible for restoring her memory and making her whole again. So when an encouraging email from Drake suggests she meet him on the other side of the world, Flora knows with certainty that this is the first step in reclaiming her life. With little more than the tattoo "be brave" inked into her skin, and written reminders of who she is, how old, where she lives, and why her memory is so limited, Flora sets off on an impossible journey to the land of the midnight sun--Svalbard, Norway. There she is determined to find Drake, and to explore the romantic possibilities and hopeful future that their reunion promises her. But from the moment she arrives in the arctic, nothing is quite as it seems, and Flora must "be brave" if she is ever to learn the truth about herself, and to make it safely home. Rich with psychological twists, powerful moments of hope, despair, and confusion, and a landscape very much a character unto itself, FLORA BANKS is an emotionally compelling and immersive read that celebrates the resilience of the human spirit, the depths of the human heart, and the power of the human mind.

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Enter for a chance to win one (1) of five (5) copies of The One Memory of Flora Banks by Emily Barr (ARV: $17.99 each). NO PURCHASE NECESSARY. Enter between 12:00 AM Eastern Time on May 1, 2017 and 12:00 AM on May 22, 2017. Open to residents of the fifty United States and the District of Columbia who are 13 and older. Winners will be selected at random on or about May 24, 2017. Odds of winning depend on number of eligible entries received. Void where prohibited or restricted by law.

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gyrlversion · 6 years ago

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EDEN CONFIDENTIAL: Esther Freud and David Morrissey split

Actor David Morrissey and novelist wife Esther Freud has announced their separation after 13 year together

With his brooding good looks and her fascinating family history, actor David Morrissey and novelist Esther Freud were one of society’s most celebrated showbusiness couples.

So I am sad to report that the couple, who met at drama school 26 years ago, have separated. They had been married 13 years.

‘It’s a great shame, but they just couldn’t make it work any longer,’ one of their many friends tells me. ‘They are making sure that the interests of their three children come first.’

The couple, who shared a house in Hampstead, are now living separately in North London.

As recently as last year, Esther, who is the 55-year-old daughter of late artist Lucian Freud, was talking affectionately in interviews about Morrissey, 54, the star of television dramas including The Walking Dead and The Deal, in which he played Gordon Brown.

Morrissey, who has been hailed as one of the most talented actors of his generation, did, though, highlight the great differences in their backgrounds. While he is the son of a Liverpudlian cobbler and a mother who worked for Littlewoods, Esther’s bohemian childhood formed the basis of her acclaimed novel Hideous Kinky, which was turned into a 1998 film starring Kate Winslet.

David Morrissey and Esther Freud at the start of their relationship attending the premiere of Basic Instinct 2 in 2006

The great-granddaughter of the founder of psychoanalysis, Sigmund Freud, Esther is one of Lucian Freud’s 14 children. Her mother is the writer and gardener Bernardine Coverley.

Morrissey has credited Esther with helping to teach him self-discipline.

‘Suddenly,’ he said, ‘I was with someone who imposed a work structure upon themselves.

‘There we were, we’d just met and fallen in love and suddenly, even in my own flat, I was outside my bedroom waiting for two o’clock so I could go in and kiss her.’

Freud and Morrissey declined to comment.

The smart set’s talking about… The Sultan of Brunei’s party-loving prince

As the international outcry intensifies against the Sultan of Brunei after his decree that gay men in his country are to be stoned to death, spare a thought for his exuberant son, Prince Azim.

The party-loving prince — one of the Sultan’s four children by his second wife, former air hostess Hajah Mariam — would be heartbroken if Brunei became a pariah state.

Blessed with a playful spirit, Prince Azim, 36, is pictured here in characteristic pose at a London party, enjoying the company of Pamela Anderson.

Party-loving Prince Azim, son the highly controversial Sultan of Brunei, is spotted enjoying a night out in London with actress and campaigner Pamela Anderson

While the evergreen Baywatch babe favoured a mask and little black dress crafted from PVC, he opted for snakeskin-effect sheer T-shirt. It was offset by powder-blue feather boas, ripped jeans and a pert top hat with a fan-veil of the sort that milliner Philip Treacy might design for Ladies’ Day at Royal Ascot — plus a key, dangling from his neck.

Azim, who followed his father to Sandhurst but lasted only a week, has a serious side, of course, once designing a unisex suitcase for luxury goods brand MCM.

Described as a chic travel bag, it was, said one report, ‘destined to bring out the princess within’.

The Queen cancelled her visit to Newbury, where she had a runner in the 3.40 yesterday, after the death of one of her best friends, Jeannie, the Dowager Countess of Carnarvon, at the age of 83.

Her Majesty had been due to stay for the weekend with the American-born Countess’s family, who live near Newbury racecourse. Jeannie’s late husband, Porchy, was Her Majesty’s close confidant and racing manager. A lively character, she was played by actress Andrea Deck in TV’s The Crown.

Even last year, she was still doing Pilates at her dower house on her family’s Highclere Castle estate, where Downton Abbey is filmed.

Fleabag’s naughty priest breaks up with boyfriend

As the ‘hot priest’ in BBC hit comedy Fleabag (right), Andrew Scott leaves Phoebe Waller-Bridge’s character desolate at a bus stop.

In real life, he’s nursing his own broken heart. I hear Scott, 42, has split up with his partner of ten years, the actor and writer Stephen Beresford, 47, inset.

They had shared a London home. ‘I live alone now,’ Scott has confirmed. Asked if he had a new companion, he replied: ‘I have a lot of love in my life, but I prefer not to talk about that.’

Previously best known as Benedict Cumberbatch’s antagonist Moriarty in BBC hit Sherlock, Scott has been hailed as the ‘sexiest man on TV’ after his charismatic turn as a Catholic priest who breaks his vows in a fling with Fleabag’s dysfunctional heroine.

Fleabag’s ‘hot priest’ Andrew Scott (left) has revealed he has split his partner of 10 year Stephen Beresford (right)

If you bump into Dame Vivienne Westwood, who turned 78 this week, best not wish her a happy birthday.

‘I didn’t celebrate,’ the queen of punk-turned-eco-campaigner tells me at a private viewing of Demelza Kids, a show of works by fashion photographer Juergen Teller at Bonhams in Mayfair.

Dame Vivienne Westwood by cartoonist Gary Smith

‘I just stayed at home with my secretary and worked on saving the world. There’s so much to do.

‘I did think it would be nice to go to work — people would like it — but then I don’t like cake or champagne much.’

The eccentric designer, whose clothes are worn by everyone from Theresa May to Angelina Jolie, even banned her husband, Andreas Kronthaler, 67, who now runs her fashion label, from giving her a gift.

‘I don’t need any presents. He gave me a lovely card.’

Now two’s company for Prue

Cookery queen Prue Leith is changing her recipe for a happy marriage.

Until now, twice-married Prue, 79, has extolled the joys of keeping apart.

But the genial Bake Off judge has decided she wants to live with her husband of three years, the retired clothes designer John Playfair, after all.

And she plans to build a new home on her farm in the Cotswolds so he can move in.

Prue Leith plans on converting farm buildings on her Cotswold property so that husband John Playfair can move in

‘The time has come when she and John want to live together, but in a place where they can each have their own quarters,’ one of her friends tells me. ‘They have designed a place themselves, which they are making out of a big old farm building on the land she owns.’

Her agent confirms: ‘Prue and her husband do have plans to convert some redundant farm buildings on her land into a single property.’

‘He lives a mile away from me,’ Prue said, after marrying John, 71.

‘He’s got a lot of stuff and I’m rather anally neat and tidy and I don’t want all that stuff in my house. And he doesn’t want me tidying it up.’

London is to be the scene of a reunion between former U.S. presidents this weekend. I hear that Barack Obama, who is over for his wife Michelle’s talk at the huge 02 Arena tomorrow, is planning to meet up with Bill Clinton, also in the capital with his wife, Hillary.

I wonder if the Obamas will pop into Frogmore Cottage to see their friends Prince Harry and Meghan while they’re here?

Princess Diana would be touched to see how close Prince William has stayed to her old friend Julia Samuel. I hear the Duke of Cambridge asked Julia, a grief counsellor, to be his official representative at the Chelsea memorial service on Thursday for cancer expert Professor Martin Gore, whom William described as an ‘inspiration’. In 2013, William asked Julia to be a godmother to Prince George.

Duchess gives her blessing to Missy’s new man

When Lady Melissa Percy married Thomas van Straubenzee, the ceremony was attended by Princes William and Harry.

Could wedding bells soon be heard again at her family seat, Alnwick Castle, which doubled as Hogwarts in Harry Potter films?

‘Missy’, as the 31-year-old is known to chums, divorced Tom in 2016. And her new romance with American hedge fund boss Remy Trafelet, 48, is going so well that he has already met her parents, the Duke and Duchess of Northumberland. ‘We really love Remy,’ her mother, Jane, tells me at the launch of Tim Bouverie’s book, Appeasing Hitler, at China Exchange in Soho.

‘We’re just happy for them because they both had marriages that didn’t work and they now have a second chance at being happy. I would be happy for them to get married when the time’s right.’

Macca’s boy brings the church down!

With his cherubic cheeks and twinkly smile, James McCartney was the image of his father as he performed a secret gig on Thursday night.

Sir Paul’s 41-year-old son received a standing ovation at Heath Street Baptist Church in London’s Hampstead, where he sang and played guitar and piano at an exhibition by photographer Danny Clifford called Rock Stars Don’t Smile.

One of his most moving songs, Angel, was written around the time of his mother Linda’s death from breast cancer in 1998.

At one point, James joked that he sounded less like his father and more like his fellow Beatle John Lennon.

Like father, like son: James McCartney (left) received a standing ovation for a performance at Heath Street Baptist Church in London’s Hampstead, taking after father Sir Paul (right)

Has Prince Charles secured a powerful ally in his crusade for alternative medicine?

I ask because the Health Secretary and prime ministerial wannabe, Matt Hancock, made an 800-mile round trip to hold private talks with the heir to the throne on Wednesday at one of his Scottish residences, Dumfries House.

Officials decline to comment on what the two men discussed. But their meeting took place a week after Hancock, 40, spoke at a reception in support of ‘social prescription’ therapies hosted by Charles at Clarence House.

On that occasion, Hancock — whose wife, Martha, is an osteopath — lamented that doctors were ‘dishing out’ too many pills. Music to Charles’s princely ears.

(Very) modern manners

Brexit is a no-go subject at most dinner parties, but imagine what it’s like at Boris Johnson’s family get-togethers.

The Brexiteer MP’s sister, Rachel, is an ardent Remainer. And she tells me: ‘Our house rules are don’t talk about Brexit at meals. If it does [come up], it all goes wrong and my mother sits there crying gently.’

Speaking at an Amnesty International bash at L’Escargot in London’s Soho, Rachel adds: ‘There is a liberal side of the family that is overlooked in the narrative of the Johnsons being this ambitious, power-hungry, blond tribe.’

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