#our love is here to stay chord melody lesson

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Serenade (Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader) Pt. 12 FINALE

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language Warnings: Nope! Notes: How lovely it has been, to go on this journey with you. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, to every person who has liked, reblogged, or left a kind comment on this story. Combined, you all have genuinely changed my life. I'm writing more than ever, more consistently, and I'm having a blast. So if you like this story, and wish it wasn't ending, well... maybe don't worry too much. There will be a sequel of sorts, same timeline but new reader, instead focusing on Cassandra. Also oops this is hella long. And mostly dialogue. Past Chapters: Pt. 1: Nocturne, Pt. 2: Overture, Pt. 3: Accelerando, Pt. 4: Toccata, Pt. 5: Poco a Poco, Pt. 6: Elegy, Pt. 7: Harmony, Pt. 8: Obbligato, Pt. 9: Berceuse, Pt. 10b: Hymn AMAB, Pt 11: Cadence

Chapter 12: Cadence (Reprise)

(Cadence: Two chords that mark the end of a song)

Truth be told, she had never expected much of anything to come from this. ‘Twas not that she thought her daughter to be talentless, or that she denied the capabilities of the servant-turned-teacher, rather that she knew just how difficult it was to keep Daniela’s attention for any measure of time. Even as the weeks went by with undeniable progress, there was a part of her awaiting the collapse of it all. How long would this instructor last? How long before they were drained of blood, either for some perceived insult, or merely out of boredom? Surely, in the end, Alcina would not need to lift a single finger.

And yet here she was, at the end of a concert, pride roaring within her chest. What had she missed? What clues had eluded her, what had changed within her child’s nature? She knew that there were hints of deeper affections, fragments of a would-be love, but she had thought them miniscule. Thought that those feelings were doomed to crash and burn, unable to live up to the expectations set by decades of romance novels. Well, maybe they had failed. Maybe, somehow, Alcina had missed something else entirely.

The thought might have sent a shiver down her spine, if she weren’t so readily distracted by praising her youngest child… or by the looming shadow of a life-changing revelation.

“Mother… we need to talk. I… I have a confession to make,” Daniela explains, hesitantly slow, but with a conviction she rarely ever showed. Taken aback by the unexpected announcement, Alcina pauses, silently awaiting some form of elaboration. Instead, Daniela takes her hand, pulling her towards a set of chairs. They sit gingerly, each feeling the weight of terrifying possibilities upon their shoulders. When she at last continues speaking, she does so without a trace of showmanship or false bravado, trading it in for heartfelt sincerity. “I love them. All of this- these lessons, this concert- has been for them. For my sweet, innocent little songbird.” So here it was, the birthplace of her fears, brought forth from her mind into reality.

“I was afraid you would say that,” Alcina muses, leaning back into the chair with a deep sigh. Something itches in the back of her throat, and she yearns for her pipe, or even just a normal cigarette to distract herself. Without one, she is left to metaphorically chew on her thoughts. Realistically, there has to be some way to deal with this, some way that she can convince her daughter of the sheer foolishness of this mess. “Daniela… how can I put this in a way you will understand, hmm?… The two of you have only known each other for three months. There is no chance that you truly love them, or them you. How close can you possibly have become?”

“When have I cared about anything for three whole months? I dedicated myself to-” Daniela is cut off by the sound of the door opening, revealing the rest of her little family. It was guaranteed that they would have heard the conversation from outside, seeing as they were all inhuman, though they perhaps intended to intervene. A single hard glance from both of the room’s occupants convinces them to change their minds. “Wait, Ava, can you get us some tea, please? Something tells me I’ll need a soothing drink soon.” Hesitating in the doorway, the butler in question eyes the both of them, naturally tempted to stay and fill the role of a therapist.

“I do believe my daughter gave you an order, Ava. Don’t tell me you have forgotten the stipulations of your agreement with Mother Miranda?” Alcina interjects. With that said, the butler finally moves, exiting with an apologetic bow. An awkward silence hangs in the air once xe closes the door behind xerself, as Daniela takes a moment to recall her place.

“Three months is a long time for me. I put all of my energy towards both them and what they taught me, almost every single day. Even when their work kept them busy for too long, I still practiced, because I wanted to make them proud! For all my flirting, I’ve never bonded with anyone this way before now,” she says, hating the way her voice gets a little shaky. No matter how much confidence she has in her own writing, it is another thing entirely to be convincing out loud, with a truth she had been hiding for so long. All of her practice had been with lies. Now she had to contest with the hope that the strength of her emotions would be enough. “That song we played together, at the end, they wrote that for me. Doesn’t that mean something?”

“Oh, my dear… I want you to be happy more than anything. But we both know that your ‘history’ is stained with a number of incidents. You have always been absorbed within those books you read, and the fantasies that they provide for you. It is one thing to enjoy these stories on the side, but another matter entirely to let them corrupt your relations with others. As your mother, it is my duty to keep you safe, first and foremost,” Alcina proclaims, sitting up straighter, trying not to let her frown evolve into a full out scowl. Beneath the table, her hands ball into fists, clutched tight to stop herself from breaking the table. In the back of her mind she could think of little other than dismembering that damned piano instructor. Focusing on the discussion at hand, she takes a deep breath before finalizing her point. “You don’t know what a healthy relationship looks like, nor what it feels like. Your books are not ideal models for reference. One- or both- of you are going to end up suffering, and that is something I cannot allow, regardless of how ‘happy’ they make you before then.”

“You’re right,” Daniela whispers in defeat… or a feigned version of it. A split second later she’s making eye contact with her mother again, lips curling up into a smile. “I didn’t want to admit it, especially not to someone as attractive, talented, and charming as my Songbird, but I didn’t have to. They understood from the very start. We talked about it, about my expectations and my shitty behavior, and we worked on it. We’re still working on it. Maybe there will be bumps along the way, just like in every relationship, but that doesn’t mean it won’t be worth it in the end. What we have is still real, and they make me want to be a better woman. I know they’ve already helped me make the change.”

Once more the door opens, making the conversation pause, as Ava near-silently brings in the requested tea. If a pin had dropped at that moment, it would have felt as ear-shattering loud as a gong. Every second that passed felt like it dragged on, stretched out by the tension in the room, as though xe was moving in slow motion. The ‘clink’ of ceramic against the table makes xer flinch, almost spilling the tea. Neither Alcina nor Daniela react, or even acknowledge xer presence with anything more than their eyes, instead remaining impassive until xe makes a hasty retreat.

“Use what you’ve learned on someone else, then. Perhaps another one of Miranda’s experiments will someday provide a suitable match. But this ‘songbird’ of yours? They’re nothing. A human, a servant, they are not worth your time, nor are they worth mine. No matter what words or songs they weave, or illusions of grandeur they show you, you will end up getting bored of them. I’m afraid it is inevitable, my dear,” Alcina says, as soon as the door is closed once more. Then she attends to her tea, with the composure of someone convinced that they had just won an argument. On the other hand, Daniela was not so quick to give in, some of her worry melting into anger.

“How can you say that? How can you be sure? We were all human, once! Even Mother Miranda was human. And my Songbird is no mere human- they are wondrous, with flowery prose and lovely melodies, with soft-lipped smiles and reassuring eyes, and don’t even get me started on how beautiful they are!” She rambles, voice getting louder with every word. All at once it is too much for Alcina, who sets down her glass a little too hard, nostrils flaring as she stares at her daughter. When Daniela speaks again, she does so with love coating her tone. “We have weathered each other’s anxieties with no signs of stopping. I promised that we would weather yours.”

“I only want you to be happy. I need you to understand where I am coming from. This may be your longest lasting infatuation so far, but you have yet to honestly convince me that this is any different from your past ‘distractions’. I’m sorry, Daniela, I simply cannot allow this to continue,” Alcina sighs, hating to break her youngest daughter’s heart like this. There was only one thing that Daniela had yet to try. Maybe two, if she was willing to resort to begging.

“Can’t you trust me enough to give us a chance? Cassandra of all people seems to understand. Bela went as far as to lie to you, for our sake! She never does anything she thinks will hurt me, or you, or any of us. Please, mother, please. How can you ever know if what I have will last, if you cut it down now? Are you going to wait forever for some ‘perfect candidate’ for me? And what if that person loves someone else? Or what if the ‘perfect’ person doesn’t exist! What if we’re stuck waiting for them like Mother Miranda waits for another child, hmm? Would you have me spend another century alone, my only memory of genuine romance being poisoned by the thought that you broke us apart?” Daniela’s words ring throughout the chamber, echoing a damning accusation, somehow more bitter than the taste they left in her mouth.

All at once, Alcina’s heart takes a hit like no other. Her hands damn-near tremble, her lungs ache, her lips purse, and her brow furrows. So be it, she thinks.

“Bring this ‘Songbird’ here. Let me talk to them.”

—————————

Goddess, you are practically vibrating at the speed of sound, palms sweaty, nervousness trashing your mind. What the hell had Daniela done? Last thing you knew, she was determined to keep your secret, even if meant being unable to celebrate with you. But now you were getting tugged along by her, while tears threatened to spill from her eyes. She had said something about “mother” and “important”. That was all the context that you had been given. When you round one last corner, pulling up in front of Lady Dimitrescu’s study, you are shown a sight that somehow makes you feel worse: Bela, Cassandra, and Ava are all resting outside of the room. They appear exhausted, and motion for you to be quiet as you approach.

“They’ve been listening in on our conversation,” Daniela admits with a whisper. Then she’s pulling you into the study, ensuring that the door doesn’t open wide enough for the eavesdroppers to get spotted. Something told you that Alcina was already well aware of their presence. “Alright, mother, here is my Songbird. What did you want to ask us?”

“Daniela… leave us. My questions are for ‘Songbird’ alone,” Alcina replies, seemingly confirming the absolute worst of your fears. This was where you would die. By her hand, without your lover by your side, after what could have been the happiest night of your life. Of course. But Daniela is not willing to go without a fight. As soon as the words leave her mother’s mouth, she is moving between the two of you, just as she had when she first called you her teacher. Before she can speak, her mother stands up and stares her down. “Don’t make me ask again- there will not be a third time.” When she still hesitates, it is your turn to be brave.

“Hey, it’s okay, we’ll be okay,” you promise her, reaching out to take her hand. Instantly she’s returning to your side, hand cupping your cheek, eyes filled to the brim with sadness. “Firefly… ‘Tell me love, we shall last until the end of days’. I love you. Nothing is going to change that, not now, not ever. We’ll be okay.” Maybe not now, you think, but you’ll be okay eventually. Cassandra and Bela, and Ava I suppose, will make sure of it.

“Okay. We’ll last until the end of days. I love you too,” Daniela says, swallowing the lump in her throat. With one last kiss she pulls away, wishing that her departure didn’t feel so much like a betrayal. She pauses in the doorway, meeting your gaze, unable to bring herself to move until you give her an accepting nod. The door swings into place with a click, sealing the room and your fate.

“So,” Alcina begins, returning to her seat as she does. For now you stay standing, unsure of just about every part of this situation, especially your upcoming role in it. “You have been deceiving me. That alone is a crime worthy of severe punishment, and yet you stooped so low as to do far, far more. I had hoped you had, somehow, managed to teach my daughter a real lesson, that you had inspired a love of music in her, that you had made an honest difference in the way she learns. But all this time… it has been nothing more than a ruse.” The last word comes out dipped in venom, acidic enough to make you flinch. Thankfully, your beloved was not the only person who had a gift with words. More than that, this was a topic that you had spent numerous nights thinking about, making you as prepared as you could ever hope to be.

“You know, as much as I desire to claim that I am that interesting, or that Daniela felt so strongly from the very start, I can do no such thing. The truth is this: Music is what brought us together in the first place. It was the catalyst for our first real interaction, the first time she ever looked at me as more than just another servant or bloodbag. We bonded because of it, and so when we went to play together, to learn, Daniela honestly did connect to it,” you explain, despite the fire in Alcina’s expression. To your surprise, she does not interrupt you, and you take it as permission to keep going. Which was very good, considering that being nervous only made you ramble more. “Music is something we’ve shared for the entirety of our relationship. Even if it’s not something she would do much of on her own, I know that she’s grown to care for it more than she might be willing to admit. And, well…

“Even if you decide that what I’ve done is unforgivable, even if I’m destined to die within the hour, I know in my heart that everything the two of us worked on still matters. Because, like it or not, she is capable of growth, of change, of progress. And even if I die, someone else will come afterwards. Daniela will get to use music as a way to forge connections for the rest of her life, now that she knows it works, now that she knows how it works. And every goddamn time that she plays, or Bela plays, or you play, she’s going to remember me. She’ll remember every moment we spent together, every piece we ever played. I’ll live on in the melodies we made. In the song that you can’t quite place, that gets stuck on loop in your head. In the song the maids sing to themselves between shifts. In the quiet evening when the rain against the window feels so much like a familiar rhythm that your daughters can’t help but start humming along, without even thinking, muscle memories in sync.”

“Are you trying to convince me that there’s no point in killing you? That, regardless, you will be in my life until the end of time?” Alcina’s eyes are narrowed, but there isn’t even a hint of anger in her tone. Just curiosity.

“No, not really. Guess I’m just making peace with my fate the best way I know how- by remembering the echoes I’ll leave behind,” you answer, pausing to wipe a few tears from your eyes. All you can think about is how much Daniela will miss you. How much pain you think she’ll go through. Because at this point, who are you trying to fool with your hope? Yourself, or the people listening?

“Hmm. I think I understand. Now, tell me… what was that you said to my daughter a minute ago, before she left the room? It sounded familiar, though I cannot place it,” Alcina questions, idly toying with her glass of tea. You’re not entirely sure why it matters to her, but you have no qualms delaying the inevitable by answering. Besides, it was a chance to talk about how much you loved Daniela (and you’d never skip such an opportunity).

“It’s a line from a poem she wrote for me. “Tell me love, we shall last until the end of days”. A promise. The song Daniela and I played together… I wrote it in response. My way of doing what she asked of me, I guess. Like I said, she’ll always have the music we shared,” you answer, unable to stop yourself from smiling.

“Damn this… I can hardly believe I am asking this, yet I feel I have no choice: Tell me, do you love my daughter? Do you honestly, with your entire being, desire a future with her? Or was this a game of survival you couldn’t afford to lose, that turned out to be more ‘fun’ than you had anticipated? Show me your heart, as it is, bare as it would be if I tore it from your chest, this very moment.” There’s no room for argument in her voice, using the very same tone she reserved for maidens who got a tad too close to refusing her.

“Alright. It was a game. At first. Daniela wanted a distraction, something to entertain her. I didn’t want to die, like I had heard so many of her ‘playmates’ did. I can’t tell you when things changed, at least not for her,” you confess, with a shaky breath. Did that make you a monster? One worthy of death? If so, you wondered if it actually made you more fit to date Daniela. “For me… I just remember her smiling wide at me, hand on my cheek, having just cracked some lame joke. Next thing I knew, well, I knew. We had a spark of something, and all I could think about was how badly I wanted to make her happy, you know? All the sudden there was nothing I wouldn’t do for her. I just wanted to see that smile again, everyday for the rest of my life.

“To answer your question: Yes. Goddess, yes. A thousand times yes. A ‘yes’ for every smile she’s ever shown me, for every butterfly in my stomach, for every time she’s held my hand, for every breath she’s stolen from my lungs, and for every single time my heart has skipped a beat in her name. I love her. I know we haven’t been together long, but the things I feel are undeniable. I will give her every part of myself, for as long as she wants me, for as long as I am blessed to live,” you pour your heart out, weaving your heartbeat into every turn of phrase, spilling your lifeblood onto the very conversation.

“And what will you do if she does change her mind? If she grows bored of you, as she has done with a dozen others?” Alcina counters without hesitation.

“I will weep. I will fall to my knees, and mourn this beautiful thing. But I will cherish every memory she leaves to me. Every moment where I am hers is a moment worth living, worth remembering. It will be better to have loved her with all my heart for a little slice of her immortality, than to love another, lesser so, for all of my life.” With that, Alcina sets her empty glass of tea onto the table, eying you with an unreadable expression. Something seems to stir in her chest, and at last the mask crumbles. She smiles.

“I see. Daniela, you may come back in now. Do not bother pretending that you have not been eavesdropping.” Not even a full second passes before the door opens, revealing a shaking Daniela, both of her sisters quite visible behind her (though they quickly move out of frame, leaving behind Ava, who gives a cheesy thumbs up as the door closes in xer face). She rushes to your side, taking your hand, looking stunned that you were still alive. But what shocks her more is what her mother says… “Of all the women I have ever known, family or otherwise, you are, perhaps, the most determined. Normally only in… ‘spurts’. Yet here you are, defying what I have come to expect of you. It almost feels as if I have been fooling myself this whole time, falsely believing that there is more than one possible outcome. So, ‘Songbird’, I say this: Three months ago, I agreed to give you a chance to prove yourself worthy of my daughter, for the sake of her happiness. Now, I suppose it is only fair that I do so once more.”

“Wait. Are you saying-” Daniela is once again cut off by her mother, who seems eager to avoid a trademark rant.

“Yes, yes I am. For the time being, the two of you have my blessing. I cannot say that I am entirely convinced of your chances at success, but, having seen the strength of your affections for one another, I sincerely hope that you will prove me wrong. Now come here, Daniela. I never got to finish telling you what I thought of your concert…”

—————————

In the glowing comfort of your girlfriend’s room, with the fireplace keeping things warm and cozy, you lay with your head against Daniela’s chest. One of her hands absentmindedly plays with your hair, and you release a sigh of bliss. Ava had assured you that xe would let Daphne know the good news, as xe thought that having one of the castle ladies visiting the servants’ quarters might cause a stir (and Daniela was far from willing to let go of you so soon). Now the two of you were just enjoying time holding each other close. Regardless of Alcina’s concerns, you knew that everything would be looking up from here. Assuming that Daniela didn’t have any more surprise confessions to involve you with.

“That was one hell of a surprise, Firefly. But I’m glad we don’t have to hide anymore. I love you, and I don’t know how long I could have survived without being open with it,” you say, a light teasing to your voice. Beneath you, Daniela chuckles, but holds you just a bit tighter. Then she places the softest of kisses to your forehead. “I’m always gonna love you, Firefly.”

“Until the end of days?” She asks, in a delighted whisper, grin practically audible.

“Until the end of days.”

—————————

Elsewhere in the castle, a caring mother takes another long, hungry drink from her glass of wine, staring intently into the fireplace. By her side is a silver-haired servant, who wordlessly watches her every move.

“There’s still a chance that this will all end horribly. Only time will tell, of course… but I can’t help worrying for her, she’s my daughter,” Alcina proclaims, gripping the glass hard enough for a web of cracks to form along its bell. But it does not fully shatter. No, it remains just steady enough to still be of use to her. For now. “Of course, you knew about this all along, didn’t you, Ava?... I know that you value how close you are with my children, and I know that they trust in you as much as I do… but if there are relationships or entanglements that I am unaware of, I expect you to tell me, or there will have to be consequences, regardless of your affiliation with Mother Miranda. Do you understand?”

Sighing, the mute servant pulls a notebook from xer pocket, opening it up to pen in a fresh script. There’s much tension in the air, and it only gets worse when Alcina catches a glimpse at what the note reads. As xe hands it to her, she scowls, and the wine glass fully breaks into countless shards. Immediately, Ava gets to work, picking up the largest of fragments with xer bare hands, refusing to complain about the resulting cuts. All the while Alcina stares into the fire, thoughts racing, wondering if maybe this time she could end her daughter’s problem before it was too late. Beginning to brainstorm ideas, she sets the notebook aside. Inside, in perfectly penned cursive, is a very, very dangerous piece of knowledge. The sort that could affect not only Castle Dimitrescu, but the entire village.

“In that case… there’s something you need to know about Cassandra- and Mother Miranda’s lovely little ‘pet’.”

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Gavin’s Late Autumn Date (Eng Translation)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

This post is dedicated to @stehkotori​, an incredible woman who created and maintains a home for us on Discord to share our love for MLQC. She’s also very encouraging and sweet 😭💕

Kiss Dates Collection: Kiro // Lucien // Victor

Hearing yet another bout of loud laughter from downstairs, I take up my phone and enter Gavin’s number, planning to tell him to meet me directly in the music room.

Just as the dial tone sounds, I hear a familiar ringtone behind me.

I turn around to see Gavin leaning against the door frame, his lips lifted in a gentle smile.

[Note] He only has one official CG in this date so I made another myself]

MC: You actually found me! I was about to tell you to come to the music room directly.

Gavin: Mr Keller said you disappeared right after signing the attendance, so I guessed that you’d be here.

MC: I’m not the type to participate in such lively events. Mr Keller will understand.

It is Loveland High’s hundred-year anniversary today. As “Outstanding Alumni”, Gavin and I have been invited to participate in the ceremony.

However, it’s a little too noisy with the announcements and music blaring downstairs.

Furthermore, as a mere producer for a small program, I have nothing in common to talk about with the distinguished figures present today. It’s best to stay in the music room, where I can enjoy the peace and quiet.  

MC: According to the schedule, all the outstanding alumni have to go on stage to shake hands with the Principal. While I’m far from being “outstanding”, you’re not.

MC: Ever since Principal Fang heard that the current commander of the Special Task Force graduated from Loveland High, he’s been wanting to meet you.

Gavin: I’ve never liked participating in lively events. You know that.

He walks over, lowering his eyes to meet mine.

Gavin: Are you playing the piano?

I scoot to the side, patting the empty space on the piano bench.

Gavin smiles and sits down next to me.

MC: Do you feel as though we’ve been coming to school quite often?

Gavin: Mm, but I like the feeling of coming back here with you. It brings back many memories.

MC: Things from high school?

Gavin’s gaze falls onto the black and white piano keys, his amber eyes filled with the tranquil daylight of late autumn.

He doesn’t respond to my question, as though recalling something. He seems to have entered a trance, the corners of his lips raised slightly.

I rarely see such an expression on his face.

MC: Gavin?

I tug on his sleeve gently, eyes full of queries.

Gavin: Some things from high school, and some things from the Special Task Force.

There is a smile in his eyes as he speaks, as if all his recollections are happy memories.

Gavin: I haven’t thought about how to tell you about them yet.

Curious, I stare at him for a few seconds. I lean over to pull on his left hand.

MC: In that case, you have the duration of one song to organize your words.

Gavin places his fingers on the keys obediently.

Gavin: All right, I’ll do my best to keep up with you.

As soon as the prelude starts, Gavin instantly casts me a glance – this is the tune most familiar to us.

The chords he plays with his left hand easily match the melody I play with my right. We don’t make a single mistake.

Accompanying the sounds of the piano, many images resurface in my mind.

The scene when I met him again, the ginkgo bracelet on my wrist which accompanies me day and night, every sunrise we waited for together, every starlight we have seen…

If I were to take count, every memorable moment was spent together with him.

MC: Actually, I came here once when you weren’t around. There wasn’t a reason why I did it. I just had a sudden whim to take a look.

Gavin: Did you gain anything?

MC: It was dismissal time, and the field was very crowded. I think there was a class having a basketball competition. You could hear their heated shouts from outside the school gate.

MC: Oh, I even saw two people laying on the flower bed stand doing corrections for a test paper. Maybe the teacher wanted to check them. My language teacher back then used to love checking our test papers during night revision sessions.

MC: When going up the teaching building, I was thinking… did we often meet at the stairway back then? Did we pass by each other, just that we didn’t know one another?

Gavin: We didn’t.

His tone is plain and ordinary, as though we are talking about trivial matters like what to have for a meal.

Gavin: We met often, but never passed by each other. I remember every moment I saw you in school. Time, location, weather, your expression, your clothes – I remember them all.

His fingers linger between the black and white piano keys, sunlight flashing in his eyes.

Gavin: Even now, I still remember.

With the sudden pause of my hand, the tune abruptly stops.

MC: …we seem to have really missed out on a lot.

Gavin responds to my sudden lament with an expression reflecting a lack of understanding. He doesn’t probe, waiting for me to continue.

MC: I’ve thought about a few things since a very long time ago. For example… cheering you on at the basketball court after school. And then proudly telling the entire class that the name of the tallest and most accurate shooter is ‘Gavin’!

MC: Back then, there was a small stall outside the school gate selling red bean puffs. $3 for one, $5 for two. It was crispy on the outside and sweet on the inside, with a generous amount of filling. You’ve definitely not eaten it before…

MC: Now, the Cityscape Management doesn’t allow the setting up of stalls outside the school gate, so I don’t have the chance to bring you there to eat.

MC: We used to have late night self-study sessions and were only dismissed after 9pm. The girls in the same class would find company to walk with. If you were there, you’d have been able to send me home.

Upon hearing this, Gavin hesitates slightly.

Gavin: Um, I didn’t have a car back then.

MC: I’m referring to a bicycle!

Gavin: …you can continue.

MC: Piano lessons were way too dull. Once I sit here, it would be for several hours, playing the same song over and over again. Sometimes, I’d think of going out to have fun - to go shopping, sing karaoke, eat all kinds of good food, or do my homework while having a drink in a small shop.

MC: Also, the 800-metres physical test was literally my nightmare! If you were there to practice running with me, I wouldn’t have passed only after my third test.

The moments I spent in Loveland High replay in my mind, but the things that are brimming in my memory, apart from the purity of youth, blazing passion and ignorance, seems to be missing something.

MC: If I could be with you back then… my deepest memories in high school wouldn’t have just been of exams.

If not for the misunderstanding, if not for us going around in circles – the tedious high school homework and boring practices would have had a completely different experience.

Whenever I think about these possibilities, I feel sorry for us.

I pretend to be angry, loosening myself from his grip. I stand up, wear a serious expression, and lodge a “complaint” against him.

MC: It’s all your fault! …you didn’t give me a chance to know you earlier.

Astonishment flashes in his eyes, and his voice is hesitant.

Gavin: …I didn’t think that you would have such thoughts.

MC: Well, now you do – we missed out on a whole six years! Even if we want to make up for it every day, it wouldn’t be enough even if you spend a full twenty-four hours with me.

Of course, I’m just joking around with Gavin. However, his expression clearly shows that he has taken my words seriously.

He stands up slowly. When his eyes meet mine, they contain a sorrowful smile that I haven’t seen for a very long time.

I’m about to coquettishly say that he has to repay his debt, but he traps me in between his arms.

Before I can react, a familiar scent takes my breath away.

Without a shred of hesitation, he kisses me.

The kiss carries an overtone of recklessness and ravaging – as he fiercely rubs the territory between my lips and teeth, his hands grip my waist tightly.

Searing breaths descend on my lips. I open my eyes slightly and see unsuppressed aggression brimming in his amber-coloured gaze.

I suddenly recall how I had trembled when meeting his eyes for the first time.

MC: Senior…

I try to open my mouth amidst his continuous demands, but am only able to release an incoherent mess of words.

Gavin eventually stops for a few seconds. His breathing is ragged, but he doesn’t pull back.

Gavin: I was just thinking about that.

He lets out an incredibly soft laugh, gently tucking messy strands of hair on my cheek behind my ear with his left hand. His lips follow after his warm fingertips, descending on my cheek again and again.

Gavin: Whatever I owe you, I’ll return them one by one… is that okay?

He leans over to my ear and speaks in a low voice. Mixed with desire, the sound is enveloped with cloudy breaths, and every wisp leads to an itch in my heart.

MC: Gavin.

There are so many things in my heart that I want to say. In the end, I can only think of calling his name gently.

The corners of Gavin’s lips are hooked into a smile. He suddenly lifts me up with a hand.

MC: …!

In my panic, I grab onto his shoulders. He simply tilts his head and smiles, placing me directly onto the piano.

The piano lets out a noise in response to the sudden weight. Just as I’m about to exclaim, my lips are sealed once again—

Student A: What was that sound just now?

Student B: Probably someone in the music room.

Student A: Want to take a look?

Although the footsteps and voices outside grow increasingly louder, Gavin maintains an air of disregard, continuing to encircle me in his arms.

He not only ignores the voices, but also takes a step forward. He puts his knee on the piano bench, pushing me completely onto the piano.

A few piano keys resound at the contact, embellishing our ragged breathing.

Student B: What’s there to see in the music room? It’s definitely someone from our club anyway. Let’s hurry over to the ceremony – I heard that the commander of the Special Task Force would be here today!

Student A: Are you serious? I saw him on television once – he’s super alpha!

Student B: Mr Zheng said so the last time, so it shouldn’t be wrong. Hurry up, we wouldn’t get good seats if we’re late!

Hasty footsteps pass by, not even stopping for a moment outside the music room.

I look towards Gavin, lightly tugging at the corner of his shirt. At the same time, I gently bite his lip, wordlessly expressing the feelings in my heart at this very moment.

As though punishing me for my mischief, his eyes narrow slightly. With a hand on my cheek, he presses my entire body onto the piano.

MC: …

I close my eyes, holding onto his solid arms. I lift my head to welcome his lips, savouring his unique breath.

The person in front of me has shed off the roughness of youth, leaving behind only the purity of youth. He often makes me forget that he once used to be unrestrained like the wind.

He has a body that is stronger than everyone else’s, a tough soul, a will that is as firm as steel, and a heart full of tenderness – it is soft beyond compare.

I cling to his waist tightly using my calves, wanting to brand every part of him into my heart.

I want to bear his everything.

Gavin: …

Another light laugh enters my eyes. I open my eyes halfway, feeling the wind slowly sweep past my burning skin.

Even before I sober up from the deep kiss that almost stripped me of consciousness, the scene in front of my eyes causes me to let out a cry of surprise.

Countless ginkgo leaves are floating in the air, dancing outside the window.

The color gold covers every window. Every leaf seems to be drawn by something, spreading their wings as they spin past the floor.

Students standing along the corridor of the teaching building also exclaim, and are unable to hold back their surprised “wow”s!

Gavin smiles faintly. It’s only after a long while before the repeated warmth lingering on my lips gradually leaves the scorching ambience.

Gavin: Do you like it?

I straighten up, leaping off the piano neatly. I kneel on the piano bench with one leg, pressing myself against him.

MC: I like it. I like it very much.

I raise my head, using my fingers to rub his chin, his lips, the tip of his nose, and the corner of his brow.

MC: I like it so much that… I don’t know how I can prove to you just how much I like it.

Gavin reaches out to hold the hand which has drifted to the space between his eyebrows. He has a generous smile.

Gavin: …we did miss out on a lot. Back then, I wasn’t certain if I could have you for life.

I look straight into his bright eyes, and laugh quietly.

MC: And are you very certain now?

Gavin: Mm.

Gavin responds without much thought. His slightly raised eyebrows reveal a sense of pride.

Gavin: I hope you can give me an answer to this question as well.

He holds onto my waist, leaning over to hug me tightly in his arms. Even though he doesn’t continue with his questions, I immediately surrender.

MC: It’s all yours. The rest of my life is yours. The years we missed are also yours.

Everything I have, I’ll give to you.

I won’t leave anything to myself. I’ll give it all to you.

-

🌸 MOMENTS 🌸

Gavin’s Post: Today’s pork rib soup tastes great. 

MC: Is Commander Gavin satisfied with the supper which was prepared with love? 

Gavin: There’s no need to wait up for me next time. 

-

Gavin’s Post: Today’s pork rib soup tastes great.

MC: You’ll do the cooking over the weekend.

Gavin: Yes ma’am.

-

Gavin’s Post: Today’s pork rib soup tastes great.

MC: Can you taste my new recipe? 

Gavin: You added ginkgo, right? 

[ptergwen]

play me a song

listen to thinking out loud while reading for a good cry!

a/n: i made myself big sad with this so you’re all welcome for that. also i know zero things about the guitar ummm if anything doesn’t make sense i’m SORRY i tried my BEST :(

-

it’s a chill weekend for you and the rest of the holland-osterfield-barrett household. you’re each spread out doing your own things. tuwaine is on the couch playing video games, harrison is chasing tessa across the backyard, harry is taking videos of it for instagram, and you’re outside reading while it all goes down.

the last time you saw tom was at lunch, where he quickly excused himself from the table after pecking your lips and tossing his plate in the sink. he must have gotten an idea. an idea he’s really into.

whenever tom is passionate about something, he gives it all the energy he has and works until he can’t anymore. everyone knows it. he wants the results to make himself and, more importantly, anyone else who sees to feel good. big projects or small, they all matter the same to him. his dedication to everything he does is genuinely one of the things that you admire most about him.

“tessa, no! leave the chickens be,” harrison scoops her up in his arms before she can reach the chicken coop, only to be tackled down. tessa is a lot stronger than you’d think. she holds harrison down with her paws and sniffs all over his face. snickering behind the camera, harry zooms in on the two of them on the ground.

you love those boys and obviously tess to death, but the chaos is distracting you from your book. you fold down the page you’re on with a quiet laugh to yourself and head inside. not to your surprise, tuwaine is staring up at whatever new video game he‘s gotten the rest of the house obsessed with. you’re the only one who isn’t a gamer, and you stand by that.

“hey, t. mind if i sit?” his eyes stay glued to the screen. he smashes a bunch of buttons on his controller, taking out an earbud once he’s killed some sort of alien in robot tech. “nah, it’s cool. i’ve been stuck on level nineteen for ages. help your boy out.” “i’ll pass.” you take a seat next to him on the couch. “i’m not good at anything unless it’s nintendo. maybe ask tom.”

a noise of defeat plays in tuwaine’s earbuds. he curses under his breath and leans forward to see better. “i’ve already tried, man’s busy upstairs. this is my sixth try on this crap.” “good luck to you, buddy.” you pat his back, flipping open your book.

your reading is once again interrupted a few minutes later. the noise is coming from upstairs this time... pretty noise. music. now you’re intrigued. so you don’t bother tuwaine, you get up without a word and leave your book on the couch. the music gets louder as you walk up the stairs.

it sounds like chords on a guitar, and it’s coming from yours and tom’s room. your heart soars when you realize tom is the one playing them. he’s shown you a few old videos of him strumming to songs, but he hasn’t had time for his guitar in a while. it’s so to wonderful to hear him pick it up again.

when you reach your bedroom door, you stand outside and listen to tom try out different harmonies. they’re simple, but beautiful. he never ceases to amaze you with each and every one of his talents. you know he’ll get embarrassed if you go in now, so you wait until he’s finished.

“i’ll be down in a few, tuwaine. i’m just-“ tom glances up and sees it’s you standing in the doorway. a shy smile takes over his lips. “you’re not tuwaine. what’s up, bug?” “i heard you playing,” is all you can say. you’re still moved by what you heard. perking up a bit, he motions for you to come closer with a nod of his head. you do.

“did you?” “mhm. it sounded really good, tom. you should play more often.” he lays his head on your stomach from where you’re standing. your fingers start to comb through the curls that recently grew back. his exhale of relief encourages you to continue the soft way you’re tugging at his hair. he’ll never get tired of the feeling.

“i was only messing around, getting used to it again. thought it would be nice to do a video for the fans.” there’s your modest tom. “i’m sure they’d love that. they’ve been begging you for the longest time. is that what you were thinking about at lunch?” you twirl one of his curls around your finger. he nods against you.

“how to cheer everyone up, yeah. myself included. it’s refreshing to do something different for a change, y’know?“ it’s bittersweet hearing him say that. on one hand, he’s happy about switching things up. on the other, he didn’t have that spark before.

you simply press your lips to his hair, his hands running up and down the back of your legs. “i know, my love. i know. i even tried reading earlier.” “and that went...” tom starts, a teasing tone to his voice. “i couldn’t focus ‘cuz harry and haz were terrorizing tessa. then i came up here.” “poor girl. those idiots are always causing trouble.”

there’s a comfortable silence that falls between you two. tom just enjoys how calming it is to have you toying with his hair. “tom?” your voice comes out almost as a whisper. “hm?” “i was just wondering, could you play me a song?”

you’re met with a beaming tom when he pulls away to look at you. “come sit.” he parts his legs, holding his guitar off to the side. you sit criss cross in the space he leaves and lean your head back on his shoulder. tom’s chin rests on your own shoulder with his head turned to see you.

both of his arms around you, he holds the guitar out. you pluck a random string to test how it sounds. tom smiles at that and copies the note you played. “i could give you a lesson sometime, if you wanted?” he offers lowly, not sure if you’ll be interested. “really? that would be so cool, yeah.”

tom nudges your neck with his nose, drawing out a giggle from you. “i’ll start with a mini one before the song.” he grabs his guitar pick and slides it over a few strings at the same time. “what was that?” “it’s called a C chord, which just so happens to start what i’m playing.” you reach up and ruffle his hair again. “good transition. ok, it’s all you now.”

taking a breath, he pats the guitar four times in a rhythm. he’s counting down in his head. his fingers hover over the strings before beginning to strum the melody. it doesn’t take too many notes for you to know exactly what song he’s playing. thinking out loud by ed sheeran.

it was on the radio the night tom asked you to be his girlfriend. you’d been driving around in the rain after a dinner date, going absolutely nowhere, killing time that you finally had to spend together. you just finished belting out one of your favorite songs for him. by the first chorus of thinking out loud, the two of you were officially a couple and kissing in his audi on the side of the road.

you close your eyes and let yourself go back to the memory, tom holding you tighter against him. you’re positive you’ll start bawling if you look at him right now. the feeling only gets stronger when he starts humming along. the only times you really hear him sing are in the shower or happy birthday, which makes all of this so touching and so special. you can’t help the tears welling up in your eyes.

tom is on the second verse of the song when he realizes you’re crying. he puts the guitar next to him, gently holding your face in his hands. “why are you crying, lovebug? does it sound that bad?” his voice comes out quiet. he uses his thumbs to wipe the tears off your cheeks. you wave your hand dismissively and give him a teary smile.

“no, no, you’re doing amazing. keep going.” “not until you talk to me, y/n.” tom lowers his head to be level with you. you meet his eyes that are filled with concern. “that’s our song,” you murmur. “and it reminded me of some stuff, and i just love you so much, tom. you- you have no idea.”

he nuzzles his face into your neck again, leaving a soft kiss off to the side. “god, i love you even more.” another kiss. “i’ve always thought this song describes us perfectly. sort of like it was meant to be playing when i popped the girlfriend question. believe it or not, listening to it makes me pretty emotional too.” “i do believe it. you’re a big crier, tommy. it’s a known fact at this point.”

you feel him chuckling against your skin, joining in his laughter. “since we’re all good now,” he speaks after a little while. you already know what he’s about to do, grinning at him when he places his guitar in your lap. “how about i finish serenading my girl?”

[hermionegranger56]

a v late recap of evermore

so i think Taylor Swift sensed that i was Going Through It and was like here you sad bitch, here’s another surprise album to help fix all that. cause good lord evermore is just what i (and i think we all) needed. i truly TRULY can’t believe we’re lucky enough to get a sister album to folklore, i love it so much. the first day it was out i drove myself 2 hours to the very end of the Cape and sat on an empty beach and cried to it and honestly??? magical. here are my thoughts on it that no one asked for:

first, as an overall here, this album complements folklore so well. it’s the spring to folklore’s autumn, it’s self-assured and warm and beautiful. each album shows off her lyrical genius so well and she only grows stronger here. when folklore came out, i was floored because the music was so different for her and so up my alley. each song’s production sucked me in and it was like she was confidently telling us “here is another genre i can work with” (masterfully at that). evermore feels different. it feels like Taylor is so comfortable in this creative space, she isn’t trying to fit into any new molds or expectations, she is just HERE, now, saying “this is who i am and this is my craft”. it’s really been a privilege to watch her grow as an artist. ok. here we go

willow:

god the video was so beautiful, a really good continuation of cardigan. the chorus is so so delicate and prettyyy, thats MY MAN ughhh its so good. it reminds me a lot of invisible string tbh, or if betty from cardigan grew up and found love. this is really one of my favorites, she starts so strong

fave lines: “the more that you say, the less i know/ wherever you stray I follow/ i’m begging for you to take my hand/ wreck my plans, that’s my man”; “life was a willow and it bent right to your wind”

champagne problems:

oh dear god, it’s if all too well and new years day had a baby and it is a MASTERPIECE. i can picture it all, college sweethearts, broken hearts, i feel like its new england at christmas, ivy league old money…its cinematic. and it gets at the feeling like you’ll never be good enough so you leave before that happens (basically before you get to the tolerate it stage??) and OOF. AND GODDAMN THE RANTING BRIDGE (illicit affairs came close on folklore but i think THIS might be the best bridge since All Too Well). I’ve screamed it a lot tbh

fave lines: BRIDGE BABYYYYYY EVERY SINGLE PERFECT WORD. WHAT A SHAME SHES FUCKED IN THE HEADDDD

gold rush:

this one is bright and lovely and catchy!! it reminds me a lot of mirrorball tbh, all like swirly and magical. i can’t even put it into words but i can see this one so clearly. its all rosy and golden

fave lines: “eyes like sinking ships on waters/ so inviting, i almost jump in”; “what must it be like to grow up that beautiful?/with your hair falling into place like dominoes/ I see me padding across your wooden floors/ with my Eagles t-shirt hanging from your door”; “the coastal town we wandered round/ had never seen a love as pure as it”; “my mind turns your life into folklore”

’tis the damn season:

UGH I FUCKING LOVE THIS ONE EVEN THOUGH IT MAKES ME WANNA TEXT MY EX. the melody is SOOOO satisfying, the progression to “write this down”, i’m obsessed. the idea of being home for the holidays and feeling a little lost and tired and nostalgic for what could have been is something superrrr relatable. this song reminds me of snowy drives around my hometown in the best/worst possible way hahah. one of my top 5 for sure.

fave lines: “we could call it even/ you could call me babe for the weekend/ tis the damn season, write this down/i’m staying at my parents house/ and the road not taken looks real good now”; “and wonder about the only soul/ who can tell which smiles i’m faking”

tolerate it:

oh honeyyyyy this track 5 packs a punch, i mean the lyrics are absolutely BRUTAL in the best way. it’s just so sad, and encompasses a lot of my own insecurity about always feeling like you’re more invested in a relationship and watching someone fall out of love or just stop caring. i LOVE the “my love should be celebrated, but you tolerate it”, like bitch YES your love should be celebrated. also taylor sounds angelic on the “I” at the start of the chorus

fave lines: “i know my love should be celebrated/ but you tolerate it”; “i made you my temple, my mural, my sky/ now i’m begging for footnotes in the story of your life”; “what would you do if I/break free and leave us in ruins/ took this dagger in me and removed it”

.

no body, no crime:

YESSSSSSSSS I LOVE THE SUBGENRE OF COUNTRY ABOUT WOMEN KILLING SHITTY HUSBANDS AND THIS SONG IS SO FUCKING GOOD AHHHHH!! I LOVE the beat, i love country taylor, i love the addition of HAIM. UGH ITS SO CATCHYYYY, like i’m obsessed with the slide from “i think he did it but i just. can’t. prove itttttt NOOO no body no crime” UGHHH this is without a doubt in my top five

fave lines: “she thinks i did it but she just can’t prove it”

happiness:

I heard this one described as an emotional marathon and holy shit it is, each line is a sucker punch. i really like how it feels like a conversation and looks at the acceptance and pain that mingle together when a relationship just…ends. her lyrics are unmatched on this album but this is a particularly strong track

fave lines: “i haven’t met the new me yet”; “when did all our lessons start to look like weapons/ pointed at my deepest hurt”; “there is a glorious sunrise/ dappled with the flickers of light/ from the dress i wore at midnight”

dorothea:

this one feels like Betty 2.0 and its so sweet and bright and also kinda sad. it’s wistful!! that’s the word i want, wistful! the vibe is gives off reminds me of Red, like musically. it’s home-y. idk if that makes sense but i like it a lot

fave lines: and if you’re ever tired of being known for who you know/ you know, you’ll always know me”

coney island:

ugh this one is magical, i honestly really love the instrumental to this one, it’s so soothing. the lyrics to me feel like you’re in some dream state, going through every heartbreak you’ve ever been through. I love the addition of The National, the vocals fit together so well (and I like it better than both Bon Iver features i think??)

fave lines: do you miss the rogue/ who coaxed you into paradise and left you there/ will you forgive my soul/ who you’re too wise to trust me and too old to care?”

ivy:

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH (that’s how i feel about this absolute masterpiece oh my GOD) it makes me so incandescently happy, the folk feel, the lyrics that are so cinematic and poetic and paint such a clear picture (to me) of two Victorian lovers who are in unhappy marriages but don’t let that stop their love. the chorus just like….fills my whole chest, the OH GODDAMN hits so different. and i want “my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand” tattooed on me, that is one of her BEST lines and i will die on that hill. its all so pretty, i can’t deal. the vibe also strongly reminds me of a) invisible string and b) Little Women (2019). i think taylor should do folk and uhhhh only folk please

fave lines: EVERY WORD BUT ESPECIALLY: “i’d meet you where the spirit meets the bone/ in a faith forgotten land”; “oh goddamn/ my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand/ taking mine, but its been promised to another/ oh, i can’t/ stop you putting roots in my dreamland/ my house of stone, your ivy grows/ and now I’m covered in you”; “he wants what’s only yours”; “clover blooms in the field/ springs breaks loose, time is near“; ”so yeah, it’s a fire/ its a goddamn blaze in the dark and you started it”

cowboy like me:

ALL RIGHT everyone sleeps on this song but oh my GOD its so good!! it’s smooth and dreamy and gives me that old fashioned, bonnie and clyde type love story and some of the lyrics are so poetic. I really love the addition of the Tim McGraw chords too???? BUT DEAR GOD COULD WE HAVE GIVEN MARCUS MUMFORD MORE OF A ROLE HERE??!! HE SOUNDS WONDERFUL, GIVE HIM A FEATURE, GIVE HIM A WHOLE VERSE. THIS IS A FOLK ALBUM TAYLOR, USE FUCKING MUMFORD AHHHH (i fucking love him omg)

fave lines: “dancin’ is a dangerous game”; “you’re a bandit like me/ eyes full of stars”; “now you hang from my lips/ like the Gardens of Babylon/ with your boots beneath my bed/ forever is the sweetest con”

long story short:

A BOP!! GIVE ME SOME HAPPINESS TAYLOR WOO! I really love how catchy this one is. it feels like her introducing the craziness of her life to joe and being like look all of that was tough but here i am now and I couldn’t be happier. It’s refreshing, self-deprecating and endearing. I couldn’t love it more and it is ALWAYS stuck in my head!

fave lines: “and he’s passing by/ rare as the glimmer of a comet in the sky”; “long story short I survived”

marjorie:

ha hahah hah ha this one ENDS me, like dear LORD i need to call my grandma immediately. it is so so GOOD and SAD, like the you don’t know how good something or someone is until they’re gone, but even then, they’re still there with you. I love the grandma wisdom of “never be so clever you forget to be kind” etc. and holy SHIT the addition of Taylor’s grandmother’s opera singing as background vocals is GENIUS AND DEVASTATING, god the part where she goes “i’d think you were singing with me now” and then Marjorie comes in is honestly one of the most beautiful musical moments i’ve heard in a hot minute and it breaks me every time. wow.

fave lines: “never be so polite/ you forget your power/ never wield such power/ you forget to be polite”; “the autumn chill that wakes me up/ you loved the amber sky so much”; “and if i didn’t know better/ i’d think you were singing to me now”

closure:

ok i’m sorry, this is my only skip here. I really do love the lyrics and the idea of, yeah no you don’t deserve closure from me. i just can’t get past the pots and pans beginning, its too chaotic. but i’m sure it’ll grow on me! it does feel like finally moving on and i do love that about it

fave lines: “don’t treat me like/ some situation that needs to be handled”; “i know i’m just a/ wrinkle in your new life/ staying friends would/ iron it out so nice”

evermore:

god her voice is SO soothing in this one, it’s literally hypnotic. the song itself feels wandering and dark at first, like you’re stuck in this depression, and then bon iver comes in and it picks up and it feels like coming out of the trees, into the sunlight and finding your way again. finding that the pain WOULDNT be for evermore like she says. it feels like an ending and a beginning. beautiful

fave lines: “writing letters/ addressed to the fire”; “and when i was shipwrecked/ i thought of you/ in the cracks of light/ i dreamed of you”; “and i was catching my breath/ floors of the cabin creaking under my step/ and i couldn’t be sure/ i had a feeling so peculiar/ this pain wouldn’t be for evermore”

[eerythingisshaka]

Ficmas Day #2 “A Chris Gets His Wings”

[Chris Evans x Reader]

Word Count: 1.6K

“Reena!  Pick up your phone!  I already texted you and I know you seen my messages!”  You hang up the phone as your friend Dez shivers next to you, rattling her sheet music.

“Maybe we should just call it a night.  Caroling this year will just have to be a bust.”

“But we always do caroling!  Why should this year be any different?”  You enthusiastically wave your hands for emphasis but lose a sheet or two in the process.

“Dammit!”

“Come on, we can still hang at my place and warm up with some cocoa and try another night.  We have like two more weeks before Christmas,” Dez offers.

You straighten up, adjusting your knit cap over your head.  “I know but this is our night.  We can’t always reserve this spot in the park with the piano.  It’s too high in demand and she is our pianist!”

Dez shakes her head.  “I don’t know what else to do, but let me think about it in a warmer environment.  I’ll be in my car, you are welcome to join when feeling comes back to your brain.”

“Love you like an ingrown too, queen,” you remark as she heads for the parking lot.  

You stand alone on the brick pavement under a gazebo trimmed with white lights in a place called Angel Park.  The black piano that sits silent is so worn from weather and graffiti, it’s hard to believe any beauty can come from it.  A slight hitch of panic pulls you to its keys, walking your fingertips over the cold white bars as the random notes play out loud.  

You stop, satisfied with what you’ve heard that it is indeed a functioning piano but what can you do without a player?  You and Dez could try to sing it a capella, but your vision of caroling is complete only with a piano at the helm of it all.  That’s what will pull people in, otherwise you are just two random people singing, not carolers.

You sigh, feeling the cold hit your toes, you walk around a bit and work some heat back to them.  You feel your phone vibrate and get excited, checking for the sender

Dez You heard from Reena yet?

You No

Dez It’s still warm in here if you wanna wait in my car

You No, I’ll wait like ten more minutes

You put your phone back in your coat pocket and look mindlessly at your sheet music.  Rudolph, Christmas Song, Frosty; you know them all by heart but caroling without sheet music seemed to not fit your image of Christmas either.  You imagine about five people standing ear muff to ear muff, taking a deep breath together as their eyes study the paper in front of them, watching the slight bob of their head or tap of their fot to keep time and joyfully sing about the Christmas season.  

You, unfortunately, stand solo outside of an empty gazebo as passersby walk on without a glance in your direction.  As you look up at the sky, barely able to make out a star, you hear a few notes coming from the piano.  You turn to see a stranger in a turtleneck and peacoat working the keys over creating a random tune that fills the air warmly.

You walk up to him in a huff.  “Excuse me, sorry, but this is my time to be at the piano.  I already reserved it with parks and rec.”

He looks up at you, white breath coming from his lips.  “Is that so?  Well,” he stops playing.  “Let me not hold you back.”

You shift your weight back and forth, looking at your feet.  “Thanks.”

A few seconds pass between you both as neither of you moves on.

“So… are you planning to play during your reserved parks and rec session?”  he asks.

You clear your throat to hide your embarrassment.  “I didn’t say that I am playing necessarily.  I just reserved it for...music.”

His eyes go wide as he knocks his head back for an animated nod.  “Sure thing, just usually people who want to take time with a musical instrument for music, they plan to play said instrument, though is it just nice to look at.  Check this writing here: FOR A GOOD TIME CALL 816-5…”

“Ok!  I made plans with some friends to carol and it just fell through, from the looks of things.”  You pull out our phone and check for any missed messages: none yet.

He plants a hand to his chest in awe.  “Caroling!  Oh!  I love caroling!  Some say caroling at Christmas time is the one chance you get to catch an angel having a good time on earth instead of you know, doing God’s work, so to speak.”

“Well that may be, but ain’t no angels coming for me tonight it seems.  Look, I think I’m going to head-”

“How about I teach you a chord  or two?  Make this time worth a little something, right?”

Your mouth moves as your thoughts move quicker than you can say them.  “What’s your name?”

“Chris!  Like Christ, without the cross.  Get it?”  He smiles with a chuckle that makes you smile mildly for the first time all night.

“Cute.  Well...it couldn’t hurt.  It’s the Christmas season after all!”

You round the piano to join Chris on the bench, rubbing your hands together fervently.

“Ok, so how about we start with Jingle Bells?  Make it simple and sweet.  Start here, then here….”

You study his fingers as they push down one key after another, trying to remember the pattern.  

“...so it just follows that same pattern basically the whole way.”

“So I can just like Chopsticks this?”  you ask, trying out the keys for yourself.

“Yeah!  I swear I don’t mean to dumb it down by the way, just for time purposes…”

You wave him off, smiling at him genuinely.  “No!  You’re being so nice, I’ll take whatever lesson you’re giving.  I’m a singer first off anyway.”

“So that’s your instrument!  Well we will be quite the pair.  I’ll play with you but give me a bit of vocal too while you’re at it.”

You giggle with excitement, no longer bothered by the cold as you both share a space on the bench and prepare to jam.  Chris starts off the chords as you do your mini part, stumbling here and there but thankful Chris is carrying the melody all the way.

As you sing, a couple of people notice, smiling at the two of you and quietly bobbing to the jingle.  When the last line is sung, you both are welcomed with a round of applause, which Chris joins in for you.

“Oh please!  Clap for you!”  you exclaim, coming to a standing as he holds his heart gratefully.  

“Thank you!  Do you have time for one more?”  Chris asks.

You check the time on your phone.  “Maybe?  It depends how soon someone might need the space.”

Chris brushes your worry off.  “Ahh come on!  One song and it’s quitting time.  Park it here!”

You scoff at his demand but follow nonetheless.  Sliding next to him, your hip touches his, making you jump.  He doesn’t seem bothered but you give an inch just in case, noticing his gorgeous eyelashes for the first time.

“‘Baby It’s Cold Outside?’” he asks, looking to you to confirm.

“Well I’d say it is.”  you respond, laughing into your chest at your own quip.

Chris gives a warm snicker as well.  “That it is, baby.  But can you sing it?”

“Sing yes.  Play?  Not even close.”

“Well here’s what we’ll do.  I’ll play this time, and you just handle the lady part of the duet, I got the guy to help you out.”

You think about this a moment.  “Ooh,  know what could be fun?  I’ll do the guy part, you the lady.”

Chris stretches his face in understanding.  “ I got it, let’s do it!”

Chris starts off the song, “I really can’t stay…”

“Baby, it’s cold outside!”

“I’ve got to go away!”

“But baby it’s cold outside!” You give him a puppy dog look that almost makes him break as his face reddens.   You get up from the bench and a bit more flare to your dramatics as you move around the gazebo, maintaining the chemistry with Chris as he gets into the show too.  The crowd has tripled in size around you both as the song builds to its final big note, clapping in rhythm as the attention is fixated on you stepping out to sing the last line.

“OUT! SIDE!”  You give a bow as the crowd erupts.  When you come to stand, Dez is in front of you.  

“Girl, I wondered why you hadn’t picked up your phone.  I called you a couple times, I thought someone snatched you up!”

The crowd begins to dissipate as you catch your breath.  You put a hand to her shoulder, taking off your knit cap to fan yourself a little.  “No issue here!  I was just with a friend-”  You turn back to point at the empty bench.  Looking around, there’s no sign of Chris anywhere.

“Reena said she overslept so she has to make it up to you on the caroling, but you said ten minutes and you know me, once it has hit 11 minutes I am coming for you.”

You put your hat back on, and walk out to where the crowd was.  “He was just here…”

“Girl, everyone was here.  I can’t believe you did a solo and didn’t text me to see it.  That’s brave of you regardless.  Come tell me about it on the way to the car.”

You whip around to meet your eyes with Dez.  “You swear you didn’t see a guy at the piano?”

“Child, the piano was empty as ever when I came up.  I didn’t catch what you sang, I just saw the crowd clapping and found you.  He wasn’t a creep was he?”

You shake your head.  “No he was really fucking great.  Just came to have a good time I guess.”

[thomasharpole]

Jubilance - 7/28

A evening with the Dave Matthews Band in Tampa, FL

I am still trying to piece together and process what I experienced last night in the sweaty mess of a pit, watching some of the most talented, world-class musicians weave unforgettable songs and melodies together with us. The last 2 hours of this show amounted to the most powerful and most spiritual experience I’ve ever had seeing live music. Words, especially in English, fall short of my experience and don’t do it justice. It seems futile to write about it, and yet I want to preserve this night in my writing and internalize the lesson from last night as much as I can.

To stand so close at a show is something I had only done 10 years ago, but I wasn’t ready at the time to understand what I was seeing. As a musician, to watch these men last night, who I have now listened to for the better part of 20 years, genuinely felt like spending time with family or the closest friends of your life.

I could see everything. I could see the smiles, the laughter, the concentration, the emotional highs and lows, and the chemistry of these humans on stage together. I could see Carter’s love and thrill for each band member, his genuine undying smile and extraordinary speed and language he speaks on the drum kit. I could see him feel every single cymbal hit before it even landed. I could see Jeff and Rashawn’s friendship as two brass players, and the way they observe each other through their intricate solos. I could see Fonz get giddy during certain musical moments. I could see Tim’s immense concentration and what feels like his access to another dimension in the way he speaks through his guitar. I could see Buddy fresh and fly demeanor, his constant smile while playing keys, and how he is so deeply appreciated by the other legacy members of the band. I could see Dave’s raw outpouring of himself into every song he sang, his soul eternally begging to be released and shown to the world through the language of music. I could also see the warm twinkle in Dave’s eye from 25 feet away, you could tell that he, who feels like a lifelong friend to all of us, felt right at home and his presence communicated something like “I am so thrilled and happy to be here with you, my loving family, after so damn long.”

The venue disappeared for me because we were so close. I felt like I was in a small room with these guys. I was listening to exactly what I would want to hear and watch if I knew I had one evening left until my life was over.

Below are a few moments from certain songs that I wish to hold onto forever.

Setlist and moments:

**I felt the show really started to take off from JTR onward, so I’m going to start song comments at that point.

Tripping Billies Raven Seek Up So Right When The World Ends Seven You Might Die Trying Satellite The Riff

JTR: the pit crew was absolutely thrilled when JTR started playing. “Rain down on me” resonated deeply with a crowd and musicians who were so brutally covered in the sweat and humidity of the evening, it felt as if everyone in this moment resigned to the extreme physical state we were all in, and the musicians were right there with us. The way the horns built the the jam motif in the end of this tune, teasing and getting snagged on the same melody (between 4 and 6 time sig) until their final release in the last 8 bars. The way Carter carries the group through the end, with Dave high stepping along the way… just fantastic.

The Song that Jane Likes: Sweet song, amazing visuals behind the stage, and first time playing this year on tour.

Typical Situation: Something happened at this point in the show that changed the dynamic of the rest of the night. I watched Carter and Dave come alive during this tune. First, to see Carter playing shaker, mallets, and drumsticks on one song and switch effortlessly between them was awesome. But when this song went into the 7/8 chromatic jam during the middle of the outro it was off the charts. Buddy was hammering the keyboard, Carter was slamming the china cymbals, and Dave was DANCING harder than I’ve seen in 4 shows. The pit sang this one loud.

Do You Remember: Endless 90s nostalgia for me. The visuals of the bicycle evoke extremely colorful feelings of my childhood on Ivy St. The endless summer days, the laughter and sports and quiet evenings outside. My dad sitting on a chair watching us. I could write pages on just this feeling, but this song is a portal into my childhood.

Grey Street: Felt the song coming, and as Carter counted the intro out loud the tempo is so recognizable, it almost has its own identity for this song as the drums roll into the opening chord. The third verse comes back to life and the pit loves it. The girl I’m with says something about me being the crazy man creeping and I make a maniac face and she laughs. The thrill of seeing someone I know witness this song in person, up close, is overwhelmingly wholesome. It feels for a moment, as if the night has conspired to make this all happen. I almost hit the floor during the yeah scream on Grey Street after the 3rd chorus. Belted the note too hard and lost oxygen to my head, felt myself about to pass out immediately and grabbed on for dear life. The sax and trumpet duel during the outro between Jeff and Rashawn is staggering and leads us into the final riff of the song which just punches you in its goodness and power.

If Only: Just a humble little song. I need to listen to this one again (live version) to draw out what I remember from the stage.

Dancing Nancies: Dark, absolutely astounding. Tim Reynolds played the most other-worldly guitar solo with visuals on the back of broken dolls, babies, all kinds of crazy things. Dave began the song asking all the right questions about what he could have been to the audience. The hits on the outro in series of 8 were felt in my chest. Best version of it I’ve seen.

Warehouse: My all-time favorite song from this band. This intro is the most visceral and raw sequence in the show. When the sax, trumpet, guitar, and keys come together all in tremolo in 32nd notes, the frequencies and overtones created along with Carter’s enormous rapid cymbal sound is so intense you can see the physical effect it has on Dave. The closest way I could describe this intro as if the soul is being extricated by force out of the body and almost vacuumed or sucked upwards into a new reality it has to reckon with. “Only hope you’re here to pull me out, when I start going under, as the warehouse slips away” gives me chills. (To get a slight idea of what this is like, watch this clip at 38–40 mins. It’s from a different show, but note especially Dave’s viscerally clear connection with something beyond our understanding around the 39m mark.)

The strobes and lights here only add to the intensity of this intro. The huge yell before the 2nd verse. The drive into the outro. The salsa hits at the end. Rashawn just driving the trumpet to where it sounds like a different instrument. And the final lyrics in the moment of great reckoning:

That’s our blood down there⁣

Seems poured from the hands of angels⁣

Then trickle into the ground⁣

Leaves the Warehouse bare and empty⁣

Then my heart’s numbered beat⁣

Will echo in this empty room⁣

And fear wells in me⁣

Til’ nothing seems big enough to stay long

So I am going away, I am going away

The final Eadd9 chord lands as the warm summation and resolution to the song. I see the faces of all of my friends from the last 10 years that have been moved by this piece of music as well, and every place I have been in my life when listening to this song. It’s a sweet ending.

Everyday: One of Buddy’s licks on the intro to this song was a 32nd note run that blew the entire band away. He played 16 notes in under 2 seconds down the scale. Carter, who is probably the most attentive to rhythm, had his jaw on the floor. Everyone was loving it. The improv vocals. The 3 part harmonies. The crowd singing Hani Hani come and dance with me. The final build. Richness.

PNP > Rapunzel: Endlessly playful song that is perfect way to end a show. Funniest part of the show is when Dave’s string broke about 15 seconds before the outro-dance-explosion that becomes the end of this song. It was very critical that the new guitar get on before the downbeat of the outro because of how much the song picks up and to keep that energy. As Dave is bending his neck to put the new guitar on, after 3 hours of playing and probably in some pain, he changed the last lyrics of Rapunzel to: “Every single thing you do to me, my god I’m FUCKED, but I’ll do, my best, for you, I’ll do yeaaaaaa. LOL! I’m sure he’s used this change before but it was timed so perfectly with him tangled in a new guitar strap, with his head banging against the various items, knowing he had about 3 seconds to pull of this change and it was not going well.

Encore:

Singing From The Windows: I could not hold it together for this song. After a year and a half of what has felt like chaos in the lives of many people and in humanity, the acceptance and hope that pours from this song, and out of Dave, is enough to floor anyone that has an ounce of care for the rest of our species. I looked around and everyone around me in the pit was crying. Dave got choked up on this song the other night and looked like he was barely holding it together. There was a quiet and serenity for a moment without the band, and all of the focus went to the songwriter and the gripping power one man and a guitar can have on an audience of 20,000 people.

Why I Am: Man, it really felt like Leroi still carries a presence in this band and you can tell why the band sings it often.

Stay: By this point, everyone was so insanely hot in the pit that they were belting Stay knowing that it was the last chance we would get to sing together. The way Carter syncopates the china cymbals on the outro of this song has always captured me. To watch Dave dance to this one more time while the horns went off and spread his arms wide on the final 3 seconds of the song was an exclamation point on a wild ass evening.

— —

Anyway, I wish that every human being could experience what I did last night. The world would be an infinitely better place. It’s not often that we have moments in our life that alter the course of the path we’re on, but I think it’s important to recognize them when they happen.

Whatever God is or means, or exists insofar as we allow him/her/it into this world, God was absolutely radiating last night. In the faces of the people, and in the entity that lives and breathes and is created when these musicians get together on stage. There is something above and beyond human form that I am humbled to have been a witness to.

It sounds a bit wild, but we are so unbelievably bigger than our bodies trick us into thinking we are. We are so much bigger than the Warehouse that contains us. And yet, we must live and do God’s work through this physical vessel because it is the only form that we take while we’re here. We must learn from this self and feed it, nourish it, teach it to become more than what it thinks it is.

One other thought: to share this musical experience alone is wonderful. But to have shared this band with someone I love so deeply is all a person could ever ask for. It is the epitome of the human experience, that is, to watch another person receive their own gift, their own joy, their own meaning from something you believe in, and to know they will carry it with them forever. They are changed by your truth. I got to see her become fully and endlessly alive because of this music last night. And that was infinitely enough.

We left the venue on fire with gratitute. It sounds wild, but I remember thinking I could die quite peacefully at that moment! I couldn’t conjure any other thing I needed to go do on this planet. I couldn’t conjure a negative thought. It was impossible. The word “ecstasy” doesn’t do this feeling justice, because the emotions are so much further in range than just intense happiness. Perhaps “awareness” or “power” or “spiritual fullness” resound a bit more to me, but for everyone it is different.

I think what’s most special about this band is that their music permeates into the core of who you are as a human being. It’s spiritual. It’s bursting with truth. It transforms how you see the world. It becomes your attitude and your way of life. This is why these guys sold more live tickets than any other group on earth for 10 years straight. The range of emotion embedded in the music is also the perfect analogy of what we as people honestly grapple with during our journey here. The lessons are clear. The music has given millions of people permission to live better lives: with jubilance, resilience, and an understanding that joy exists even amidst the deepest of pain. Each day we have an opportunity to show someone else this honest attitude, this truth, through whatever medium we choose. It is one of the greatest gifts we can offer another person. There is no question I will carry the richness of this experience with me, from now until the end of my life. I am forever thankful for nights like this, nights that are simply transcendent.

Thomas Harpole

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[storiesforallfandoms]

lessons ~ yungblud

word count: 1704

request?: yes!

“Can you please write a yungblud imagine. I just need more content of him. Just maybe something cute maybe he teaches her guitar and lot of fluff maybe smut 😏”

description: while they’re stuck inside together in quarantine, dom decides to give his girlfriend private guitar lessons

pairing: yungblud x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist

I was laid out on the couch with my feet on Dom’s lap, reading a book while Dom picked at the strings on his guitar.

This was our new routine since the quarantine started: wake up, either spend the day in bed or on the couch, try to stay entertained for the day, go back to bed. Dom usually spent his days writing music, and I had read just about every book I owned and watched nearly everything on Netflix.

I lowered my book to look at Dom. He was so concentrated on his music, his eyes closed as he listened to the melody he was playing. I wondered if it was an original or not.

“Can you teach me to play?” I asked him. His eyes opened and he turned to look at me, raising an eyebrow. “I wanna learn how to play the guitar, it’s something to do in quarantine at least.”

“It’ll take some time, guitar isn’t a skill learned quickly or easily,” he said.

I shrugged. “Where else do I have to be?”

He chuckled and moved his guitar. He patted his lap, signaling for me to sit there. I sat up quickly and excitedly, and perched myself on his lap. Dom placed his guitar on my lap and wrapped his arms around me.

“Okay, mimic my arm positioning the best you can with my arms in the way,” he instructed. I did, my arms brushing his. When they were in position, he pulled his arms away, moving to put my fingers in position on the chords. “Fair warning, there’s a lot of finger muscles involved with playing; you gotta stretch ‘em, press hard, and move ‘em fast. Eventually you’ll develop callouses on your fingers, which is good and will help, but until then it’ll be painful.”

“Got it, my fingers will hurt,” I said with a nod.

Dom chuckled and pressed my fingers against the chords. “Strum down on this once.” I did, and a lovely sound rang out from the guitar. “See, that’s an A chord.” He took his hand off of mine and told me, “Try again.”

The sound was not as lovely this time.

“There, when you hear that it means you’re not pressing hard enough.”

He placed my fingers in all sorts of positions on the chords, some that were easy and some not as much. He was patient as I strummed the chords, trying to get a hold of how hard to press on the chords.

Eventually, he began to show me how to play some songs. Obviously, I was pretty shitty and slow first starting out, but as time went on I got a hang of it. Still slow and with a few slip ups, but I was getting there.

Dom had his arms wrapped around my waist and his head on my shoulder as I strummed along to one of his songs that he had taught me. I could feel him humming along as I played, which was giving me a little confidence. Maybe I could pick this up quicker than Dom thought. That’d be pretty cool to have a new skill under my belt.

“Once you’ve mastered the guitar I’ll have to bring you on tour with me to be my new guitarist,” he said when I stopped playing. “Imagine how cool that would be, we could be a touring couple?”

“Uh, no thank you,” I laughed. “I’ll play for you here but I’m not playing in front of people. I’m not that good yet.”

“We have plenty of time to practice. We are stuck in quarantine for who knows how long after all.”

I laughed and turned to stick my tongue out at him. He grabbed hold of my face and kissed me, pulling my tongue into his mouth as he did so. I giggled and pulled away, kissing him lightly on the nose.

After some time, Dom took hold of the guitar again, playing it as I leaned back in his arms and listened. “What’s your favourite song to play on guitar?”

He stopped for a moment, pondering the question. “One of my own or in general?”

“In general, but if the answer to that is a song of your own I’ll allow it.”

He chuckled and began playing again. “I really don’t know. It changes with every new song that comes out or every new song I release. Like for a long time it was the song I did with Colson, then it was that Lady Gaga and Bradley Cooper song, but don’t tell anyone I said that.”

I made a gesture like I was zipping up my lips and throwing away the key. Dom laughed again and kissed my head.

“I don’t really have a definite answer. I just like playing. It’s soothing, and I feel like I’m creating my music on my own when I do it. Does that make sense?”

I nodded. “Yeah, it does. It feels cool to be able to play it. The guitar is like one of those instruments that all the greats could play, and still can play, no matter what genre you’re a part of.”

Dom nodded, resting his head against my shoulder again. I giggled as I recognized the melody of the aforementioned Bradley Cooper and Lady Gaga song. I knew he’d never admit it, but Dom loved playing that song so much because it was my favourite song. He often serenaded me with the song at random moments, both when we were alone or with others. He even sang it sometimes when he did livestreams, which garnered all the right reactions from his fans.

This time was no different. With his head on my shoulder, he was able to softly sing the opening part in my ear, swaying us back and forth as he did so. I closed my eyes, listening to the sound of his guitar and his voice singing to me. As it came to Lady Gaga’s part, I decided to join in. Not a usual occurrence, but I was feeling the music, so I decided to sing along.

Dom seemed shocked at first, stopping all together as if he thought he had heard something. I opened my eyes to look at him, seeing that that smile I loved so much was spread across his face. I leaned back into him as he began to play again, singing what we had dubbed as “our song” together.

When we finished, Dom stopped playing abruptly to start clapping. “Wow baby, that was beautiful! Not only do I have a new guitar player for tour, but a back up singer too!”

I laughed as I wiggled out of his arms, standing to stretch out my cramped feeling limbs. “You can hire so much better to go on tour with you. Besides, I’d probably forget my own name if you were to put me up on that stage. You know I hate crowds.”

“You can’t even see the crowds baby,” he said, placing his guitar aside. “The lights are too bright. You can hear them, but that’s the only indication that they’re there.”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you seriously asking me to go performing with you? I’ve only had one guitar lesson and I can barley sing, I don’t think that exactly makes me qualified to go on tour with one of the biggest musicians right now.”

Dom stood from the couch and shrugged. “I mean, if you felt comfortable being on stage I wouldn’t be mad about it, but I do seriously want you to come with me on tour when I can go again. I miss you when you go.”

“I miss you too, but you’ll probably want to get away from me when this quarantine is over. I mean, we will have been stuck together for months, I’m sure you’ll grow tired of me eventually.”

Dom took my hands in his, pulling me towards him. I looked up at him, into his beautiful eyes and at his beautiful partial smile. “I could never grow tired of you.”

I smiled and leaned up to kiss him. His hands ran up my arms to take my face in his hands, holding me to him. He placed small pecks on my lips before kissing the tip of my nose and forehead.

“I mean it, though,” he said. “I would like for you to come on tour with me sometime. I miss you a lot when I go, like to the point where I can’t sleep cause I’m always thinking of you. And maybe that’s sappy and all, but I love you a lot, and being away from you for so long always sucks, especially when the time is extended and I’m not sure how much time I’ll get with you when I get home again.”

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel the same way sometimes. When Dom went on tour I missed him more than anything. I thought about him every day, at night I’d have trouble sleeping in our big, empty bed without him. I knew it was something I’d have to get used to being with a musician, but it didn’t make the times he left any easier.

“What do you say baby?” Dom asked, and I realized that technically he had asked me something. “Do you wanna come on tour sometime? Live life on the road for a few months, see the world with me and my band?”

When he put it like that, the answer was pretty easy. “Yeah, I’d love to actually.”

I giggled at his adorable dance of excitement before he lifted me into his arms and spun me around. When he put me down, he turned back to the couch and said, “Well, if you’re gonna go on tour with me, we should practice on your guitar playing so you can take your rightful place on stage with me.”

“Or,” I said, “we could take a break from lessons and pass the time with sex?”

Before I could fully comprehend his reaction, Dom had me picked up in his arms and was carrying me to our shared bed room, my laughs filling the house as he closed the door behind us.

[firefield]

David Bowie - Reality (2003)

“The thing, probably, that keeps me writing is this awful feeling that there are no absolutes. That there is no truth. That we are, as I’ve been thinking for so many years now, fully in the swirl of chaos theory.” DB, 2003

I always learn new things about David Bowie whenever I listen through his complete discography chronologically, and this run through is no different. As I get close to the end here, I’m reminded how much less I know about these later works, due simply to the fact that they have existed for a much shorter time, and my experience with them is more limited. “Reality” rocks more than I realized on release day, especially coming off the heels of “Heathen” with all its layers and mystery and subtleties. An empty house afforded the opportunity to really crank this one up, a vinyl pass, and CD pass, and finally the 5.1 surround sound edition - and yeah - DB said he wanted a simpler sound, and wanted a record that could be translated into a live show easily and effectively and he got that in spades.

As with all his post-80’s work, and especially his post-heart attack material, “Reality” embraces the darker and more cynical side of DB’s many characters - from the irony of the album title with album art portraying a very cartoony space-man Bowie looking about as unreal and non-Reality as possible and still be recognizable - to DB’s insistence that he made a “positive!” record despite themes of aging and death, loneliness and anonymity, geopolitical strife, day-in-day-out mundanity and the creeping threat of urbanization to nature. Regarding the subject matter of Reality he told Interview Magazine, “This is probably a period when, more than any other time, the idea that our absolutes are disintegrating is manifest in real terms. Truths that we always thought we could stand by are crumbling before our eyes. It really is quite traumatic.”

I read quotes like that and I think, for a guy that is largely known for (and criticized for) his ability to synthesize the past and his surroundings into something entirely David-Bowieingly unique, he certainly shows skill at synthesizing the future as well. Beyond things like financial chicanery like Bowie Bonds and the impact of the internet on the creation and distribution of music, Bowie often hit at the very essence of what unites as well as divides.

The seeds of this malleablity of truth that DB describes had been planted in my country during the civil rights movement and the tragedy of the Vietnam War, but began to flower and bloom after the 9/11 event - affecting Bowie’s home turf and his family profoundly. Heathen is prescient, Reality is a little angry about things. DB took time to specifically say what Reality was not: it was not an angry album, it was not a response to 9/11, it was not his “New York Album” - but then he’d spend just as much time gently walking back those claims, almost wondering aloud if it was, in fact, all of those things and more. He speaks around this time about how naturally writing music came to him. Unforced, calmly. I think this “flow” is why you can glean so many little contradictions about Reality and it’s intentions and meaning. He’s letting it happen, not dictating the plot; the tensions of that city and that moment in time allowed to mold and shape the work. Polar opposite to the Heathen recording environment at Allaire Studios in the Catskill Mountains, Reality was recorded in the cramped Studio B of Philip Glass’s Looking Glass Studios in NYC and both those disparate studio choices impact their respective products acutely.

Reality is Bowie’s most “hands-on” record since Diamond Dogs, employing all his multi-instrumentalist abilities, and it’s also one of his most thoroughly demoed. Most all of Reality was demoed out in Studio B by DB and Tony Visconti playing all the instruments, with Mario McNulty (the same engineer DB would later trust with the posthumous reimagining/re-recording of Never Let Me Down) as studio assistant. According to Tony, he had a feeling that many of these “demo tracks” would not ever actually be re-recorded, so they were laid down at a useable fidelity. Consequently, much of the demo material survived on the final album. The band brought in for final overdubs was chosen with the live show in mind specifically. This was a smaller, tighter unit of BowieLive veterans and by all accounts recording was smooth and productive.

New Killer Star opens the record, and is also Reality’s debut single (that contained one of his more surprising B-sides, Sigue Sigue Sputnik’s ‘Love Missle F1-11’) and is a spectacular Earl Slick led hazy, woozy guitar statement.

This is followed by The Modern Lovers - Pablo Picasso - recorded in 1972 but delayed until their 1976 debut. This track mimics the space occupied by the Pixies cover Cactus - the second track on Heathen - DB pulling tracks from his past that he enjoys and placing them where they give the record momentum. Quite a different interpretation if you have heard the original - DB took liberties with both the lyric and the arrangement and it’s a cool little track.

Never Get Old follows and addresses the common theme of time and aging in DB compositions…. (Cygnet Committee, Time, Hearts Filthy Lesson, Changes, Fantastic Voyage, and many more) and the composition itself references much of his past in Space Oddities countdown, the elongated guitar strands of Heroes, bits of melody from Crack City, the four-walls-closing-in sense of Low and some of Hunky Dory’s ominous moments. A pounding live favorite.

…and seamlessly right into The Loneliest Guy. Anyone who saw the Reality Tour knows the captivating power of this piece, and it’s honesty and fragility was one of a few reasons why I thought this would be DB’s final album.

Looking For Water. Man, I *love* this song. It’s one of my favorite vocal performances on Reality and would certainly end up on my list of “underrated DB songs” were I compelled to make one. I like repetition in music, and it’s hypnotic and mantra-esque qualities - and this is one that always gets a significant volume boost.

She’ll Drive The Big Car - a supercool stab of Bowie sash and swagger, and a killer vocal performance, masking some seriously sad lyrics. Bowie manages to sound defiant, tired, funky, deferential, sexy and soulful all in the course of a single song. He’s such an effortlessly great singer, that’s it’s easy to become so accustomed to it that you almost miss it. It’s just “him.”

The exceedingly sweet “Days” fits nicely with all of Realities reflections, and has for me become a song I pay much more attention to since we lost the man to cancer.

Fall Dog Bombs The Moon is one of DB’s most overtly political songs, and was apparently written very quickly - under a half and hour - and directly addresses the Iraq War and the profiteering involved. Relatively bleak with murky lyrics, it’s a interesting and unique DB composition.

Try Some, Buy Some is just beautiful and I think one of Bowie’s most interesting and genuinely heart-felt covers (along with Waterloo Sunset, also from these sessions.) The inspiration to do this song comes directly from the 1971 Ronnie Spector version and the impact it had on him personally. DB seems to be absolutely sincere when he claimed that he had completely forgotten that it was a George Harrison composition until he sat down to work on the album credits.

Next up is the sizzling rocker Reality that has one foot in Tin Machine and one foot in The Next Day. Love Earl’s guitar sound here. Like New Killer Star, the guitar layers in this one sound amazing on the 5.1 surround mix.

Ahh yeah. Another in an amazing number of fantastic Bowie album closers. I’ve made it a point in my life to quit ranking art into “good/better/best/sucks categories and hierarchies and see art as an experience, not a competition. My friends know this about me, and consequently tease me and attempt to prod me into breaking this creed. Under unrelenting pressure to name a “favorite David Bowie track” I named Bring Me The Disco King.

I could give many reasons why this would be the one…. The repetition I mentioned earlier, here found in Matt Chamberlain’s drum loop (interestingly snagged from ‘When The Boys Come Marching Home,’) the overwhelming sense I had when I first heard it that this was DB’s final record, the sense that the threat of jazz that had always pounded on David’s door in his chord structures and harmonies had finally broken down the door… the very tangible sense that this was a composition that had already had a long life but stayed tucked into the shadows by its unsatisfied creator, only to be given life and light on this great album after it had been stripped down to almost nothing - simplicity being the sought after key to its finally being allowed to soar. If it’s not already obvious, I think this song is magnificent. Literally. The fact that David knew it was deep inside there, he just had to mine it out over the course of a decade or so is extraordinary.

Couple of thoughts about a track that didn’t fit well on Reality but made it to bonus/B-sides…

How cool is his cover of The Kinks Waterloo Sunset? In the years after his death, when I feel that loss in my heart, it’s Waterloo Sunset I turn up to 11 and allow it to yank me back out of that murk.

“People so busy

makes me feel dizzy

but I don’t feel afraid

as long as I gaze on Waterloo Sunset

I am in paradise.”

[ficsandcatsandficsandcats]

All Is Found:Anastasia!AU

Part VI – Learn To Do It

Fandom: The Witcher Word Count: 3,035 Rating: G Taglist: @heroics-and-heartbreak​ @whatevermonkey​ @jill-makes-art​ @mynamesoundslikesherlock​ @kemmastan​ @magic-multicolored-miracle​ @writingstudent​ @mlleecrivaine​ @coffee-and-stories​ @amirahiddleston​ @ultracolorfulnerdcollection​ @astouract​ @your-not-invisible-to-me​ @mycat-is-mylove​ a/n: A retelling of Don Bluth’s Anastasia (1997)

{prologue}{part i}{part ii}{part iii}{part iv}{part v}

Despite a harrowing start, the journey continued without much ado. When you crossed over from the other side of the mountain into Sodden you all took a deep breath of relief. Well, all of you but Geralt who was still on high alert after the attack. You and Jaskier were nearly giddy, though. You noticed that his grin was a bit wider and his steps a bit lighter and when your eyes met every now and then he gave you a beaming smile.

“Is it like this every time you come here?” you asked.

“Oh no, we never really get to keep going. We get about as far as the bottom of the mountain and then usually Geralt has someone ready to meet them to take them into town and on their way. This will be the first time I’ve actually travelled farther away in ten years,” he answered, pulling the lute around to the front of him.

“Why do you always come back?”

Jaskier considered the question as he absentmindedly strummed chords on the instrument.

“We’ve never really made enough to survive is part of it. Another is that Geralt here has an honorable streak, believe it or not, and wanted to keep around in case more needed help out,” Jaskier explained.

“For a fee,” you clarified.

“For a fee,” he agreed with a nod and not a scrap of shame which you found oddly refreshing. There was a great deal of moral posturing at the Home but very little action to support it. You preferred a frank and honest mercenary than a false saint and Jaskier was certainly no saint.

He was, however, a pain in the ass.

“Recite back to me the last four ruling houses of Toussaint,” Jaskier demanded. You groaned aloud and he stared at you, unmoved by your irritation.

“Y/L/N… Thyssen… Halford…”

“Nope,” he said, cutting you off mid-sentence, “The last four ruling houses have been House Y/L/N, House Thenadier, House Agnor, and House Toussaint, the founders of the land.”

The rest of the walk was much in the same vein and it got to the point where your fighting grew so frustrating that Geralt forced you to walk on either side of him. You joked about having to say “a witcher apart” but only Jaskier giggled, Geralt stayed stony faced and alert. The tension that settled over you reminded you of the risk you were taking and the wind felt a little colder and the snow crunched beneath your feet went from pleasant to scary, every footstep possibly echoed by an unseen assailant. You set up camp under the sweeping boughs of a willow tree and when you woke you were all in better spirits. Jaskier eased off on the history lessons and focused on what he felt were more practical matters. He strummed an easygoing melody and Geralt took your hand in his and rested his other hand on your waist. The witcher looked so grumpy you nearly laughed.

“Come now, Geralt, you’re dancing with a lovely lady – a princess no less! Do try not to look like you’re about to be disemboweled,” Jaskier called. The tune continued and Geralt danced you around in a basic rhythm, your feet taking to the steps better than expected and before long, his stony face cracked a little smile of enjoyment. You’d never danced with someone taller than yourself, much less a grown man, and you found it exciting. Jaskier’s eyes went from assessing to proud… to unsettled. You enjoyed the dancing with Geralt, it was clear. Jaskier wasn’t sure why that should bother him so. Maybe it was the way Geralt seemed to enjoy it too and the way his amber eyes met your Y/E/C ones as he pulled you back in from a twirl. Whatever the reason you’d only danced through a few songs before the music stopped so abruptly you smacked into Geralt’s chest.

“Right that was splendid, shall we be off?” Jaskier asked, suddenly impatient.  

“Yes,” Geralt said swiftly. Though he had enjoyed himself more than anticipated he was nervous about losing time and wanted to put more distance between you and whoever was hunting you. Jaskier walked next to you as you traveled, far closer than a witcher apart, so close your knuckles lightly brushed against each other’s and neither knew how much the other’s hand tingled at the touch.

The next few days were spent much the same way.

Geralt taught you both how to forage for food and while you’d expected Jaskier to grouse about the quality, he always complimented it and made it sound like a sumptuous feast instead of some berries and nuts that were half-frozen from the snow. Geralt also continued to work on your knife throwing and would watch you and Jaskier, who spurred each other to practice more, competitive as you both were and determined to be the better knife thrower. Geralt would have preferred you be motivated by a basic desire to survive but he wasn’t going to argue the point as long as you were practicing. You warmed up to the history lessons as Jaskier found ways to ground it in things you would care more about. The more personalized it was, the more closely you listened, hungry for any connection with the people whose blood ran through your veins and had once, presumably, loved you very much. Jaskier did not have you practice dancing again, to your disappointment, and if Geralt shot him some very pointed looks about this, Jaskier simply pretended not to notice.

Though it was still very much winter, everything seemed better on this side of the mountain. The sun was out more often and though there was snow all around it was the pristine snow that’s left untouched on a field, not the discolored slush that covered New Nilfgaard. By the time your trio reached the first town you were all eager for a warm meal and a night away from the snow, no matter how picturesque. As you walked through the entrance of the town you heard music in the distance and you and Jaskier both perked up, Jaskier from excitement and you from confusion.

“Why is there music?” you asked.

“There must be a festival or a celebration of some kind!” Jaskier exclaimed. You gave a little ‘oh’ of understanding. You’d never been to a festival before, the closest thing to a celebration being the annual fundraising for the Home, and Jaskier could see a lack of expected excitement in your eyes.

“Wait, Y/N, don’t tell me you’ve never been to a festival or a party of any sort before,” he gasped.

“Well no, I did. I just can’t remember it and the last time it happened apparently my whole family died,” you answered glibly. Jaskier looked over at Geralt who tried to pretend he didn’t see the entreating gaze. The bard shuffled a bit closer, trying to weave into view but Geralt kept finding something in another direction to stare at.

“Geralt,” Jaskier said in a sing-songy winning voice.

“Hmm.”

“Geralt this will be the perfect chance for her to practice what we’ve been studying,” he cajoled.

“Hmm.”

“You could go get our room at the inn and sit up nice and toasty with an ale, resting your weary frame, as Y/N and I engage in the splendor!” Jaskier continued, gesturing grandly as you entered the town square. A few local musicians played and children danced to the music while most of the adults chatted, happy for the chance to catch up without other obligations. The well in the center of the town served as the focal point, covered in bright streamers and bits of holly for decoration. The smell of roast meat on the air made your mouths water and you saw Geralt eye the tavern.

“Geralt, please?” you asked, giving him the widest puppy dog eyes you could muster. He sighed heavily and you and Jaskier shared a grin of triumph behind his back.

“Back at the inn by nightfall,” he insisted. Jaskier had already seized your hand and run off into the crowd and he shook his head and trudged towards the inn.

“Oh gods, alright, what shall we do first?” Jaskier asked, sky-blue eyes sparkling with excitement as he looked to you for direction. You gazed around and your eyes fell on the musicians playing.

“A dance?” you suggested tentatively. Jaskier’s smile broadened and he magnanimously held out his arm. You looped yours through and both of you laughed at the ridiculousness of it as you walked closer to the men playing. Jaskier took you in his arms the same way Geralt had but differently as well. Geralt had been stiff and distant but Jaskier’s touch was warm and leaned into you. Not in a way that made you feel stifled or crowded, just so you felt the warmth of his body near yours and his eyes gazed into yours in a way that Geralt never had. The butterflies you felt as he began to walk you through the dance were new and almost made you want to stop dancing but there was a light in his eyes that beckoned you on and like a moth to the flame you followed him as he moved, a natural rhythm between the two of you as you danced.

From his seat in the window Geralt watched and the closer Jaskier pulled you, the deeper his frown creased. Jaskier had never fallen for the people that they aided across the mountain. There was light flirtation at best but there was no time for long lasting attachments. In the days you’d been traveling he’d watched as you and Jaskier’s squabbles had grown less bullheaded and more playful. He’d seen how you went from walking three witchers apart to nearly moving in tandem, as close as you could be. He didn’t know if Jaskier even realized what was happening but Geralt felt a sour twist of guilt in his gut as he watched the bard dip you low, your noses brushing as he paused and just held you. Your arm was clutching his shoulder, surprised by the muscles you felt beneath the doublet, and his eyes flitted to your mouth. Geralt watched this all in breathless anticipation along with you, fearful where you were hopeful that Jaskier may bridge the slight distance between your faces and press a kiss against your lips. He seemed to recover himself and pulled you upright again and Geralt took a little sigh of relief. A short lived one, however, because he knew that was just the first of what would be many near kisses. And one day, if you didn’t get to Cidaris soon enough, the line was bound to be crossed.

-----

After the dance you’d gone to the tavern to join Geralt in eating some food. You sat across from the two men and Geralt tried not to notice the fleeting smiles you gave each other, glancing away quickly as your eyes would meet. He tried not to notice the soft expression in Jaskier’s eyes, much less the slightly puzzled but happy look in yours. He would pull Jaskier aside later to discuss it.

They’d all walked to the room together, only renting one to save the money, and when the door opened and you and Jaskier walked in Geralt stood in the threshold for a moment.

“Fuck.”

“What is it Geralt?” you asked, surprised by his outburst and a little startled, fearful that he’d seen someone’s face in the window. Geralt’s stare was pointed at the bed in the room.

The one bed.

The three of you then turned to look at it and there was a moment of quiet before you unceremoniously pulled off your boots and lay in the middle of the bed. You looked at them both expectantly and then, when they didn’t make a move, you sighed exasperatedly and leaned up on one elbow.

“We’ve been sleeping together for the last several nights,” you said.

“Not in a bed,” Geralt muttered.

“Let’s be sensible,” you argued, “We all need the rest and we all can fit if we snuggle close which we need to anyway to keep out the cold. Now, is this acceptable or would one of you rather be in the middle? Geralt? Are you secretly a cuddle enthusiast?”

Your eyes twinkled teasingly but Geralt’s brows furrowed for a moment before glancing over at Jaskier, sending him a look that was a question that he answered silently in turn. You marveled at their ability to communicate through look alone and wondered, with a bittersweet twinge, if you’d ever have that with someone one day. Jaskier pulled off his boots and shrugged off the doublet. His undershirt was half undone as usual but for some reason your stomach did a little flip at the sight of his dark, hair covered chest as he moved closer and you realized it would be pressed up against you soon, and all night. He climbed over you and your heart leapt into your mouth and then he pushed you, wriggling under the blanket (though the sheet remained a layer separating your bodies).

“Rude,” you muttered as you pushed back a bit, pressing up against more of him than you’d expected. His hand rested against your arm and you craned your neck back to find his face closer than expected, your mouths a breath apart again.

“Are you comfortable?” he asked.

“Yes,” you replied. There was the sound of armor falling to the floor, startling both of you out of your reverie, and you turned to find Geralt moving towards the bed.

“Y/N sleeps by the wall,” he said.

“Well hey now I don’t think we can just tell her where to sleep,” Jaskier protested.

“She’s safer by the wall,” Geralt insisted, shooting Jaskier a look that dared him to push further.

“I don’t mind,” you said and you boldly climber over Jaskier’s frame to the other side of him, his eyes on you the whole way. Jaskier turned to face you but he was yanked roughly aside and Geralt planted himself between the two of you on top of the bedding.

“Blow out the candle, Jaskier,” Geralt said, closing his eyes and threading his fingers together on his chest. You smiled at Jaskier, a little amused and somewhat regretful look in your eyes, and he shot Geralt a final, grumpy look before blowing out the candle and climbing back into bed. You lay in silence for a bit, none of you asleep, and when you shifted to the side and tried to oh-so-casually extend your arm to rest against Geralt’s chest Jaskier was at first struck with jealousy. Then you wiggled your fingers a bit, catching his attention, and he grinned as he turned towards the witcher as well and entwined his fingers through yours. You fell asleep like this, hands clasped on Geralt’s chest and the witcher, who was very much awake for this, realized for the umpteenth time that no matter how much they received from your grandmother, it wouldn’t be enough.

-----

“Y/N?”

Your head shot up suddenly at the sound of your mother’s voice, your heart leaping to your throat and more tears coming to your eyes, hopeful and desperate.

“Mama?”

You shrugged off the heavy blankets that tried to conceal you in the wagon, tripping over the materials in the cart but finding your balance again as you climbed to the edge.

“Y/N…”

You climb to the top of the wagon’s edge and you stand there, staring out into the world that rushes by you. The voice is so familiar, you know her but you can’t see her face.

“I miss you,” the disembodied voice calls and you feel a longing like none you’ve ever felt before and when you reply that you miss her too your words are swallowed by the cold winds but you hope she knows it’s true. You hope that wherever she is she feels your love, for that’s the only thing that this painful feeling could be. Love and its constant companion grief.

“Come here, love,” the voice calls again and your legs wobble a bit as you climb again up to the edge of the wagon. You know she’s there waiting for you if you can just take the leap. Your knees buckle and you sway and then arms grasp you around the waist and pull you back. You flail and fight but another voice breaks through.

“Y/N, Y/N stop, Y/N come back.”

The voice is desperate and scared, not comforting and warm like the one that beckons you. But that is part of why you open your eyes. It feels more real, this fear and desperation, and when you open your eyes you find yourself perched on the ledge of the well. You fall back and someone breaks your fall, the same someone who’d pulled you out of your nightmare.

“Y/N?” the voice says again and you turn to find Jaskier slowly rising up to a sitting position, hands reaching out to steady you as you sit on the snow covered cobblestones, hand rising to your mouth.

“Oh gods Jaskier…” you whispered, fear as biting as the cold winds.

“What happened?” he asked, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close.

“I don’t know… I heard someone and I just… It was like sleepwalking but Jaskier, I didn’t have any control over it. I didn’t have any control over my body,” you whispered. Jaskier helped you to your feet and tried to give you a confident, reassuring smile though there was fear in his eyes as well.

“It’s ok,” he said, “I got you.”

“But what if you hadn’t,” you argued.

“But I did,” he insisted, “Y/N, I’ve got you.”

He reached out to brush the snow out of your hair, hand grazing the curve of your cheek as he withdrew it slowly.

“Jaskier, who is doing this?” you asked, your voice calmer but now edged with anger.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. He took your numb fingers in his hand and he fixed you with a steadying, determined look, “But I intend to find out.”

[elamikaaa]

Plot Twist

Now, I haven’t had any professional vocal lessons at all for the eighteen years I have lived, but since I started singing at the tender age of four, I think it’s safe to say that I’m somewhat a singer. I lack a lot in technique, sure, but I think I sound somewhat decent, at least. 

 As a singer, it is best that you really pour out the emotions that the song is trying to convey. It is as if you are the messenger trying to communicate an intricately crafted message to whoever is listening to you. Every word in every verse, hook, chorus or bridge, every single chord progression, every single note, pause, the speeding up and the slowing pace of the beat, the transpositions... every single component of a song was carefully put in there to construct an overall message that you as a singer have to relay. So, it is very important that you really mean what you sing for you to do so. Knowing whatever the song is trying to express alone simply is not enough for a singer to capture the essence of a song. The moment you are unable to feel, the more you’ll deviate from whatever the song is trying to convey. This, in my honest opinion, is what makes someone fail as a singer, or as an artist in general. After all, all modes of art are forms of expression. 

 One of my favourite artists, NIKI, released her first album, Moonchild, 3 days ago. Me being the fan that I am, I checked it out on SoundCloud as soon as I could. I listened for every single track in order (except for the songs that she already released prior, such as Switchblade, Selene and Lose). I have not finished listening to the whole album yet — I haven’t listened to Drive On — because there’s this one song in the album that really caught my attention: Plot Twist. 

 Plot Twist really encapsulates the unexpected blossoming of a newfound love. The moment I hit play on SoundCloud, my eardrums were smacked lovingly with what sounded like utopia in its melodic form. Maybe it is because of my current predicament, but this song, from the lyrics to the dreamy instrumentals, perfectly epitomised how someone can either enter as, or develop into, a pleasant surprise in another’s life. Honestly, this song really hit home. As soon as I listened to it, I thought of one person and I can think of only them whenever this song comes to mind. 

 I could go on a whole analysis and a breakdown of key parts of the song but honestly, the lyrics are self-explanatory. There is really nothing for me to elaborate on. All I really can say is that it is the first verse that makes me think of him the most. when I was really contemplating ‘closing the book’, there he was, ‘in every nook’, making me want to continue reading to see if the ending will be different this time around. I had just gone through the biggest heartbreak I had experienced with my best-friend who I had a crush on for two years, and he was among the many who supported me through it all. Little did I know that he’d be my next heartbreak... oh well.  

 Not every single part of the song is representative of what once was between us, if I can even call it that, anyway. It was not 'always gonna be [him] and I’, nor did I really think that something was ever really going to come into fruition. He felt like a ‘brand new arc’ but not exactly one that I ‘never knew’ the outcome of. He was definitely different, but in a way, he’s similar because he, like the others, was also a very good friend who never got to fully reciprocate my feelings (I know, looks like I have a preference for best-friends, huh). To add onto that, he ended up moving on very quickly with someone else after many months of us developing a relationship together — not necessarily a romantic one, but just a strong bond. It is okay that he did not reciprocate. That is not what I have an issue with. It is how he moved on to her straight away, but I will not go into detail about that here. That has been the topic of every single other piece I have ever written, so I think I have harped about that enough.

Anyway, it was very painful, and although I am grateful for the lessons my experience with him has taught and revisited, I am not exactly thankful for ‘plot twists’ like him. Despite the euphoria he made me feel, which the song captured, I feel more regret about him than anything, really. 

 I love singing NIKI’s songs; more specifically, her more melancholic songs: Lose, Around, and my all-time favourite, La La Lost You. I feel more of a connection to these songs because, well, they are all about heartbreak. One perk of being extremely sensitive is that I can sing these sad love songs just fine simply because I can really feel it all. I can feel the resignation in the ending of Lose when she sings, “I don’t need a reason to keep on dreaming, that I can win this stupid thing called love.” In Around, when she sings, “I miss you though you’re cold,” I immediately think of the day he ignored my messages and started talking to me in an uncharacteristically stern manner. Though I was anxious, I still missed him very much and wanted to talk to him even if every single inch of my body screamed at me that he did not want me around anymore. La La Lost You, from how I am perceiving it, shows a person’s divergence from someone they loved dearly. “Hope New York holds you, hope it holds you like I do” in the second verse of the chorus is the line that made me cry the hardest when I first listened to it, because it very much resembled how much I love him and how much I’ll always love him despite how terrible our ending was. Even after everything, even if it were justified for me to be petty and upset, I could not; I can only wish the best for him. I really meant it when I concluded my final texts to him at the time with, ‘Hope you’re doing well’ and ‘Wish you all the best’, or something along the lines of those — I don’t have the best memory so I can’t give an exact recall, but you get the gist. In saying this, I hope whoever is reading this knows the distinction between having love for someone and being in love with someone. I am not in love with him anymore, just to clarify. However, he still does have a spot in my heart, and I will forever wish him all the best. I will be here for him, should he need me and if I am able to be there for him. He called me a couple of months ago and talked so we are in better terms now. Not as close as we once were (I think that is the best measure to take, to be honest), but better terms, nonetheless. I must admit, there are some things I still want to ask and get clarity for, but I do not think I’ll get the chance anytime soon, so I’ll leave it be. 

Point is, only NIKI’s melancholic melodies have hit me to the point where I can execute their messages adequately enough when I sing. To add to that, I just love singing her songs in general anyways, they are quite close to my vocal range. 

 Listening to Plot Twist, however, struck a different chord in me. As much as I love the song, and as much as I relate to many parts of it, I do not think I can ever sing this song. In the grand scheme of things, that is okay. There are many more tunes of solemnity that I can sing instead. But Plot Twist was very bittersweet. Probably the most bittersweet song I have ever listened to. I know it is only bittersweet because of what I associate the song with, but still… damn. NIKI really got me good with this one. 

 Sometimes I cannot help but wonder if I would be able to really relate to this song in another life. Not in the bittersweet way that I do right now, but in a way that I am only reminded of a serendipitous encounter. Should I love again in this life (I know I sound naïve but really, please get love away from me thank you) then this song is for them since now, I really am ‘closing the book’. But should anyone draw my attention enough to make me ‘stay and wait’ and give me the happy ending I have never had, then I can finally say that I can feel this song in its entirety. Only then can I sing this song and narrate its beautiful story. 

  In this life, however, I will just have to stick to humming along to the lyrics on SoundCloud behind closed doors. 

[xiubaek-13]

Lost In Translation - Chapter 16 - Lesson 2

Requested: No Genre: Canon-AU Pairing: ? (at this stage undecided) x Reader

Warnings: None yet.

Word Count: 1,340

"Play a simple chord progression for me." He complied, looking a little confused at how this was going to assist in learning English. "Now fit an English phrase to the chord progression you just made." His eyes widened while he tried to wrap his head around it. He played the chords again and hummed a melody. Then you watched as he worked out where to put the words. You waited patiently while Chanyeol figured out all of the parts before he tried to sing along to it.

            The sky gave you everything             And the world gave you to me             I will keep you by my side so you can’t run away to the sky             I will capture you, I will cage you, I will hold you

You recognised the words from one of their songs but he had translated them to English and was trying to sing them to a different tune. His pronunciation wasn't bad but you could see the areas he'd need help with.  You helped him work through each line until his pronunciation had improved and he was confidently singing the words. You had expected him to be an easily distracted student but whether it was because he was learning to music or because you were wrong about him, he was being an excellent student. He listened intently when you phonetically sounded out the words he had trouble with and repeated them with him until he got it right.

After an hour you were satisfied with the phrasing and he was over the moon that you'd been able to help him but now you were moving on to wording he hadn't seen. You wrote down 3 lines for him and asked him to find another melody. "It will be easier if you have a different melody for different speeches. You can work the words into the melody as a singing part or as a slower rap, whichever helps you remember it.  You want each piece of music you assign the speeches to be different enough that you won't confuse them."

He took the piece of paper from you and read it a few times. "Y/N, can you read it out aloud for me so I know how it is supposed to sound?" You complied with his request since he'd stared at you with those big brown eyes, you didn't think you could refuse him even if you tried when he looked at you like that.

                It's so wonderful to be here with all of you today.                 Seeing your smiles makes me so happy.                 Keep your energy high, stay safe and let's have the best time together!

Chanyeol watched as you spoke, taking in the pace of the sentences and the words that you put emphasis on. You absolutely loved watching him work things out because he was so expressive, one minute his face was serious and focused and the next excitement was written all of his features.  He moved away from his keyboard and picked up his guitar. He strummed a light and happy sounding song and mouthed the words. When he was ready he tried out the song for you. Again you helped him with the words he stumbled over or had trouble remembering but after another hour he had gotten it.

You sat back in your chair with a proud smile on your face. "Chanyeol, you made excellent progress tonight but I think we should end the lesson there. I can't have your managers yelling at me for having you sing and play until all hours of the night." He let out a full body laugh and put his guitar away. He agreed to finish up the lesson for the evening but insisted on giving you a tour of the studio since he felt bad that you had to creep in and wait around for him earlier.

Chanyeol finished showing you around the studio. You hadn't realised that it was more than the room you'd been sitting in all evening. There was a small kitchenette to make basic food with, like the kind you find in hotels, an bathroom and an average sized bedroom. You lingered at the door to the bedroom and turned towards Chanyeol. "Do you sleep here often?"

He shook his head. "Not at the moment but before we recorded our most recent album I kind of lived here while I wrote songs. It made more sense to sleep here than try and drive back to the dorms when I was exhausted."

You lingered in the doorway for a few seconds before entering his bedroom. You were struggling to keep the professional, in charge personal you used when conducting a lesson but you needed to tell him about his reward before you slipped back into your normal friendly self. He wasn't making it easy for you, Chanyeol was too damn friendly and likeable. He watched as you walked into his room and looked around. "Yah, what are you doing?"

You turned and looked at him as he stood in the doorway, unmoving. You had felt his eyes watching you as you looked around the room. You pointed at the bed. "Come here and sit." His eyes widened and his mouth opened and closed while he tried to figure out how to respond. "Calm down. There is just one more part to the lesson I need to tell you about and I'd prefer to be sitting when I tell you." You didn't wait to see his response, you just walked straight over to the bed and sat down at the end of it.

When you looked up he'd made it a few steps into the room before pausing again. You watched as he assessed the situation unfolding in front of him. He squared his shoulders and strode over to you and sat down on the end of the bed facing you. "Ok, so what is this extra bit of my lesson that required you to be sitting on my bed?"

"Well, if you remember the day I told everyone how my lessons would go I said that if you did well you got a reward. Do you remember that?" Chanyeol nodded. "You did extremely well with this lesson so you get a reward." Chanyeol's face lit up like a kid at Christmas, his eyes wide and mouth open and grinning.

"What do I get? When can I have my reward?!" He was so excited at the idea of getting a reward, now you just had to make sure he understood what you meant otherwise he'd likely ask for a toy or something innocent like that, which was fine but you figured you should make sure he was aware that he could request something less innocent.

"I really need you to focus on this next bit. You get to pick what your reward is, you can pick anything you want and if I can do it, I will. As far as the when you get it, that depends on what you pick."

He pondered your words but he still looked confused. The look on his face told you he was trying to think of everything that he could want and narrow it down to one choice for you. Suddenly he seemed to come to a realisation. "Y/N?"

"Yes?"

"What did Suho pick?"

"A blowjob."

"What?!"

"A blowjob. Like I said, you can pick anything. You just can't tell anyone what your reward was." If his eyes got any wider you thought they were going to pop out of his skull. "What I'm going to do is give you time to work out what you want. When you decide, find a way to let me know and we'll work out time to finish. I'm gonna head home now, think happy, rewarding thoughts." You left, leaving Chanyeol dumbfounded sitting on his bed. You hadn't blatantly flirted with him the way you had with Suho but you had a feeling dropping this bombshell on Chanyeol would result in something interesting for the both of you.

Masterpost | Chapter 15 | Chapter 17

[legendarylicks]

"Our Love Is Here To Stay" - Barney Kessel Style

“Our Love Is Here To Stay” – Barney Kessel Style

“Our Love Is Here To Stay” – Barney Kessel Version/style Practice July 30th 2017 in preparation to do a lesson on this song. Played on my Ibanez Artstar AS153 Jewel Blue Burst through a Vox DA5 practice amp.

Please hit the “like” button on the youtube video and share it if you liked it!

Thank you, Rick McCargar

Please check out my…

[shemakesmusic-uk]

Getting to Know...

Helga Arvesten.

Helga Arvesten will scratch at your core and tug at your heart with her soul charging music. This native Swede has spent most of her childhood and teen years traveling the world, living in a variety of places (Sri Lanka, South Africa, Laos, US). During those developing years Helga discovered the power of expressing herself through art and music, finding inspiration in her idols. Struggling with insecurities, anxiety, and rootlessness, finding a way to express herself became the foundation for staying sane when feeling troubled.

Helga’s music, just like her art gives an insider look into this creators life. Holding a lot of complexity and stirring up emotions for the listener/viewer, but this of course is purposefully done. Helga thrives on the idea that anything you make must come from an honest place since this is the only way what we make can hold the power to change someone, only in an instant or maybe permanently. Currently the 25 year old songwriter-singer/producer lives in Stockholm, Sweden. This is where she conjures up new material and sounds. Helga’s latest release was a three-track EP called I'm Here which like all her music kept the listener shivering and hoping in suspense as the blistering pop gently touched the ear.

We asked the talented artist a few questions about I'm Here, her influences and more. Read the Q&A below.

When did your passion for music begin and what made you want to follow a career as a singer-songwriter?

"I think the passion was always there, in the sense that I always had a special attachment to sound. It came so naturally for me to love music, it spoke to me in a way that it was unavoidable. I previously studied classical vocals and then went on to study jazz vocals, I found singing other people’s work to be a wonderful experience but sometimes limiting in the way you get to interpret the song (there is already a right or wrong way to present another person’s work). When I was 19 and standing at the crossroads trying to figure out what genre of music I wanted to study I found a course which was for the musician who wanted to do whatever inspired them, this is where I discovered songwriting and realized that it was the perfect match for me since I had so much I wanted to say in so many different ways that not being limited through songwriting was a dreamlike discovery."

We love your gorgeous, cinematic sound. Who or what have been the biggest influence on your music and songwriting?

"I think my lyrics and productions are greatly inspired by David Bowie, I love metaphors and drawing dark comparisons in contradicting lyrics. The drama probably comes from my love of film music/instrumental music, I have always found music without words to hold almost a greater power than that with lyrics since the feeling you get is not altered by words. I think the biggest influencers would be David Bowie, Roxy Music (love synth old school modern sound), Ennio Morricone, Joe Hisaishi, James Horner, and whatever catches my attention just in that moment if it is a Lana Del Rey song or a Motown track."

You recently released your latest EP I'm Here. What was the inspiration behind the record? What do you hope fans will take away from it?

“I’m Here was inspired by an emotional journey I went through the past 2 years. It holds a kind of determination yet worry and sadness, I feel it represents well the step from a young adult to maybe becoming an adult. Finding the balance in being more independent and demanding of great things while still having that somewhat young, naïve and destructive mindset that tampers with this grown-up persona you try to uphold.

"I want the fans to take away a sense of hope and beauty in being human, seeing one's faults as charming since they represent our growth, turmoil and unique aspect of being human. We are so complex and I like to make the insecurities shine through as an endearing part of us."

What's your songwriting process?

"I have a feeling, I sit by my piano, start to play and hum ideas, then usually all at the same time some lyrics and melodies just sound right, I can’t explain it, either it clicks or it doesn’t. For the most part, the feeling and subject of the song are decided by the time I have written down 4 chords. The base of the song is quick for me to make, the rest of the process is more of a slow, tedious and emotionally draining part.

What is the most valuable lesson you have learned as an artist in the music industry?

"Stand up for yourself, it might bring some setbacks but in the long run, it will be returned with the respect you deserve from the right people. Not to give up, there are so many aspects which determine whether you can have a successful career or not, and the switch occurs at the moment you least expect it."

Finally, what are your plans for 2019?

New music, new releases, and new goals. I will be turning 26 in February and it seems only appropriate that it should supply me with a little new life crisis material."

Official Website // Facebook // Instagram // YouTube

[musicmixtapes]

September 26, 2018 Mix

This week as I was curating the playlist, I got to thinking a lot about the way that our mood at a particular moment affects the music we choose to listen to. Some people say that they pick music the opposite of their mood to counteract a bad day, some choose to delve into that feeling and get in touch with it. I, being the latter, am having a memory ridden, reflective sort of week, so I chose songs that talk about the past a little bit and how they can influence the present/future. I hope you enjoy and find something that suits your mood. 

Spotify Playlist 1. Planet Hunter by Wolf Alice - This song is all about trying to recreate memories of something or with someone that happened awhile back, events which were really positive, but they cannot be rehabilitated. The artist reminds me of if Taylor Swift had not become a pop music sellout and instead taken a dark moody indie music route, and well, the results are stunning because she creates a depth of feeling to the music that most pop cannot do, in my opinion. The part I relate to the most that struck me was the repeated phrase of "I left my mind behind in 2015" which reaches a point where we, as listeners, realize that there are peaks in our lives that we wish to return to, especially at some of our valleys. I love this because it is an upbeat song about feeling out of place in the present, which is really fascinating. 2. St. Paul by Ritchy Mitch & The Coal Miners - Honestly, the piano that tinkles into a wonderful melody/rift in the beginning has to be the most alluring part of this song, which eventually becomes a much bigger feeling as it continues on. There aren't many striking piano-driven songs these days, so I was impressed with that along with the fact that this song clearly disses a saint, yet doesn't seem offensive in the slightest because it is so personal and not an attack on anything but oneself's feelings. The instrumentals and their uncertainty directly correlate with the restlessness of the lyrics and the crunchy sound of the singer's vocals; we love to see a parallel of the sound of the music to the actual meaning behind the song. All the literary techniques used to write a song is the reason why our ears are so attuned to it. 3. Window by Nana Grizol - Going along with the recurring theme of memories and the past, this song is literally a metaphor for a window looking into the past of what something once was. The defining line of this song comes when the singer refers to the window of the past and saying that "we can lift them/and focus on the moments that we lift in" which is a beautiful shift in tone from a reminiscent tune to one that look towards changing for the better and leaving the memories (whether good, bad or ugly) behind for someone else to revolve around. The artist, Nana Grizol, often covers really broad topics, such as negative feelings, the passing of time, moving on in a really succinct way that reaches an audience who needs to hear mantras in a refreshing way. I like to think of this song as a meditative yoga for the ears, please practice daily. 4. Solitary Daughter by Bedouine - I found this song in the most interesting way, so here it is: I was in the Mcnally Jackson bookstore on Prince Street in the city, rifling through the poetry section (as one does) and stumbled upon a book that transcribed songs into poems and included commentary from other writers and from the artists themselves, in a lot of cases. Reading these lyrics as a poem in a book was so thrilling because I often talk a lot about how some songs are really just poetry set to music, and in this case, other people must have thought so too. This piece is incredible in its way of speaking about a woman not needing someone to rely on or anything to sustain her, except for her own self, her home is herself, which is so liberating to both hear and read. I highly recommend reading the lyrics alongside listening. 5. Chemicals by Gregory Alan Isokov - Off of his brand new EP "Dark, Dark, Dark" which was released not but six days ago, is this peaceful and meaningful acoustic folky ballad by a personal favorite of mine. This piece is especially interesting because it plays off of the notion of the different ways in which chemicals can affect a person's body, kind of like the way a person who is really important in one's life can do the same. An image that I love to see showing up in art is the trope of hands trying to reach one another, whether it be in the "Creation of Adam" or an old film. This song plays with this lost hands imagery, in the line "how my hands can't seem to find your hands in the dark", which if I wasn't already in love with the song, sealed the deal for me 100%. Definitely check out the other two tracks off of the EP, they are wonderful as well. 6. Slipped by The National - This week's mix all began with this one sad ballad by my current favorite group and it just built off of this. I cannot express with words, on paper or in person, how much I am tethered to the lyrics of this song. Something about the raw and honest way that this was strung together speaks to a person who is done with being vulnerable to someone who has no intention in showing hidden parts of themselves back. In this narrative song, the speaker is talking to a girl who left the city to go to a more rural area in the South, thus separating the two, and telling how tragic it is to break away from something when he could not be what she wanted him to be. This is a solemn and intense vow to oneself that they will not break down and fall apart because of a love ending, this is another mantra. 7. We're So Lost by Voom - Upon first instinct, I would like to classify this song under tracks I would listen to whilst laying under the stars and thinking about our existence in such a big place or while slow dancing with someone and contemplating what is going on. But now, even in a good mood this song makes sense because no matter how you feel in terms of being in this world, everyone can agree that we have no idea what we're doing most of the times and are mere beings that are floating through time and space, trying to determine why we were placed here in the first place. In some ways, this can be thought of as a slow rock philosophical crisis song, or you can just love it because of the waltz like beauty of it. Your choice. 8. Fuck Love by Lalić - I definitely expected a cynical, bitter, anger driven song when looking at the title, but if I can say any cliché here, it's don't judge a song (book) based on its title (cover). If anything, it's more of a love song, explaining that the speaker has no real reason to be saying things like "fuck love". I think this is interesting because oftentimes, people don't like to be honest with themselves about their emotions, so instead they put up their walls immediately and turn to sarcastic, defensive comments like "i hate everyone" "love suck" or.... "fuck love". Being one of these people, this song opens up that term and exposes us hate poseurs who are very sensitive and truly love to love. The low fi rock sounds with a strong guitar line is nice to hear as well. 9. Blood Bank by Bon Iver - He is so detailed in his description of bags of blood, I have to believe that he actually had a conversation with someone he loved at a blood bank, discussing the differences between people's blood... which is... interesting. It is also vital to this song to understand that the two separate memories he tells about are very closely related because he is explaining the variability of relationships and how to decide whether it is prudent to enter into an affair or to be your own person and indulge in lonely behavior. Of course, it never hurts to be told really emotional things like this with Bon Iver's delicate crooning and layered harmonies that build throughout with such simple complexity, unmatched by other singers in his genre. 10. How It Gets In by Frightened Rabbit ft. Julien Baker - Your first question after listening may very well be "how what gets in?" as my first question was this exact thing. Maybe what gets in is this undeniably wonderful call and response song along with angelic harmonies. But maybe, what gets in, at least in terms of this song, is the literal healing of an open wound and how to properly dress it and make sure it doesn't get infected, or at least that was what was accounted by the singers in question. I interpreted the song to be a recounting and lesson on how love can come into one's life in unexpected places, and how just because there was hurt and pain in the heart for a long time, does not mean it has to stay that way forever. 11. NFWMB by Hozier - This acronym is probably the smartest thing I have experienced in a song's title in a long time: NFWMB is really Nothing Fucks With My Baby, expressed in a classy way, courtesy of the forest prince and love of my life, Andrew Hozier-Byrne. As always, there are several biblical references and apocalyptic death metaphors, which always leaves me feeling very confused and inspired at the same time. The very jazz and blues influenced low key rock song is so different from other love songs that it kind of creates its own category in that sense. It is described by others as "the love song for the end of the world" therefore going back to my feelings of apocalypse, decay and biblical tellings. 12. One In A Million by Hudson Taylor - "You gotta be cruel if you wanna be kind" ok this just hit me way too hard and true. The only way I even discovered this artist is actually because they are opening up for the Hozier concert I am attending tonight and now I am super excited to see them perform as the opening act as well. They remind me of a toned down version of The Kooks in a lot of shared vocals and chord progressions and upbeat instrumentals, except they are a duo hailing from Ireland and they classify themselves a folk band, though the punk/alternative rock influences found in this song are undeniably present. Also present is the message of knowing someone doesn't care about you the way you care about them and needing to be released from that sort of madness... cool. 13. Into The Mystic by Van Morrison - I'm probably not introducing anybody to this song for the first time right now and certainly not the last, but something about the changing of the seasons and the shift of weather from summer to autumn calls out to the mystical and slow dance vibe that this classic and iconic folky rock song inspires. There is absolutely nothing better than the buildup from quiet lull to the horn heavy chorus and interlude that just makes you want to stop and dance wherever you are in your day. Another musical aspect that is highly appreciated by yours truly is the intricate acoustic guitar rift that is taken and shifted into a lot of newer acoustic based songs that we hear all the time these days. The past influences the present and the present is heard in the past all the time, especially in music. 14. Size Of The Moon by Pinegrove - Shifting into a more heavy punk, angst themed style of music is this memory driven song which tells us about a time where the speaker is thinking on the communication issues that occurred in a relationship and how they could have easily been remedied, but there was no effort on the other half's side. From an interpretation of the song, one person smartly said, "It’s really easy to indulge in nostalgia when you’re at a rocky part of a relationship. Suddenly everything appears better than the present, no matter how imperfect those times were." I have to concur with this notion because our perception of the past changes over time and when we miss someone, at times, we look at bad memories and they even start to seem better than being alone... but they are not. 15. Kathleen by Catfish and the Bottlemen - Another song geared towards a relationship not working out the way it's supposed to is from a band that is one of my all time favorites. Their comical British style of lyrics is so appealing to my American way of thinking of things and the heartfelt honesty heard in their songs play along quite nicely with the super power rock style in which they are written. This tune in specifics, is not about the past, but the present and trying to reflect on what is going on in the "now" which is a really complicated thing to try and do, when you are infatuated with someone. The instability is heard not just in the lyrics, but also in the interchanging chords of the electric guitar and the fast paced anxiety ridden drumbeat, which is awesome.. 16. Holland, 1945 by Neutral Milk Hotel - This band is one of the weirdest, coolest ones that only the people who love grating vocals and intense lyrics can truly appreciate to the desired capacity. The whole album, from the 90s, "In The Aeroplane Over The Sea" depicts the story of Anne Frank and the tragedies behind what happened to such an innocent person, along with her youthful romance and how it all devolved in such a short time. A lot of fans of this album have also speculated that there is a second layer of meaning between the World War II references, being that is expresses the kind of tension and tragedy that occurs when you lose some so important in your life, and how the mourning of this loss can only be remedied through appreciating this person afterwards. 17. I'm Not Gonna Teach Your Boyfriend How To Dance With You by Black Kids - Okay, so I'm pretty sure that we can all understand the meaning of the song strictly through the title of this song, negating my opinion before on how you should not judge a song based on its title... well in this case, you can absolutely do that. Not only does it have the best dance tune in the world, but it is also so adorable that the singer's only common connection with the girl he is speaking about is their affinity and adeptness with dancing. Although I definitely have "two left feet" as the singer describes the boyfriend having in this song, I relate to this in terms of music. If there is a person who I really care about, the connection I automatically have is usually in a musical sense, and I am greedy about this relation. We all have something we won't teach someone else's boyfriend/girlfriend if we care about them. 18. 123 by Girlpool - I love this so much. It depicts a relationship where the speaker is asking the partner/SO to tell them everything that is wrong with them in a really sarcastic and aggressive way. It's comical and honest and vulnerable all at once which I have to give a hand for because mixing comedy with painful relationships is something that I always attempt in my writing. The song deals with an interpersonal relationship that is simultaneously “toxic and loving" as described from a contributor on Genius Lyrics, which is a website I often refer to on advice and other commentaries on music I really enjoy. The girl rock power that is disseminated with this track is so strong and empowering, for any gender, so please don't hesitate to sing this when you're feeling angsty about someone. 19. Million Years Ago by Adele - I don't think I ever really talk about my deep appreciation for Adele on here, because I try to branch out from popular artists and focus on more under-appreciated and undiscovered types; but I'm making an exception because although she is one of the most iconic voices of the modern generation, this specific song is so underrated in terms of her best songs. It sounds so french/spanish acoustic ballad inspired and makes me feel like I am transported to a black and white film from the 50s with the sadness and depth that it gives me in such a simple way. It ALSO follows along with my theme of the week, which is looking back in order to look forward, because she sings about the troubles of missing things from the past and dealing with the issues of transforming into a different person. 20. Apocalypse by Cigarettes After Sex - Finally, one of the best mixes of every song I have spoken about previously, is this moody sad love tune by the moodiest, saddest, love bands of the modern generation. There is an unspoken cheesiness of Cigs After Sex songs that for some reason, I am completely enamoured with because I feel like the notion of expressing things in a hyperbolic way has been tossed by the wayside. This group brings back the feeling of needing to tell someone how much they care and not caring about what anyone else thinks, which is important in a world that so often ridicules the ridiculous emotions that love brings about. In particular this song speaks to the feelings of needing to get someone out of a feeling they are trapped in, so to be with them fully, and telling the person they will be there in their lowest and darkest times. 

Hope you enjoyed listening with me, see you next week!

[totaltozier]

Song 101 - Finn x Reader

REQUEST: @cxxl-gall Can I get a Finn Wolfhard imagine where his band comes in a bit early to the studio while you’re just finishing up recording and when reader comes out he asks her to stay and listen to their stuff (so he can show off lmao) and to just hang out when he’s not playing and like watching the others play (bc they’re all talented blessss) and like he compliments her voice etc. Like proper cute and fluffy

NOTE: Yo yes I really enjoyed this one. I left it sort of open ended so I was thinking about maybe making it a series? LET ME KNOW IF THAT’S WHAT Y’ALL WANT! 

The song I mention by The Tragically Hip can be heard here. The song Calpurnia is recording is this one!

PLOT: Calpurnia is using the recording studio after you and it turns out that Finn loves your music a little more than you though he could.

WORD COUNT: 1675

Recording was your favourite part of making an album. After your debut EP was released over a year and a half ago, you could not wait to get back into the studio. But before that, you had to write the music and collaborate with others which was a long process but it was totally worth it and you could really feel it in the studio. There were only two more songs that you needed to finish up before you were done. Today you had been working on your favourite song, one that was reminiscent of The Tragically Hip’s song Grace, Too. It was mellow bit still alternate rock.

You were in the middle of the final run when you noticed a small group enter the room just outside of the booth. You couldn’t quite make out who it was since you were trying to concentrate on your harmonies but once you had finished you removed your headphones and made your way out.

“Who’s our guests?” You asked at no one in particular to the room full of people.

The boy with the mop of black curly hair who was bent over a guitar case stood up and turned to you. “We’re Calpurnia.” He introduced. “I’m Finn- “

“Finn Wolfhard” You interrupted. “Yeah I’ve heard your guys play before!” You said.

Finn looked around at his other bandmates with a smile. “That’s awesome!” He exclaimed. “We’re fans of your work actually, Ayla won’t stop singing your songs”

“Your voice is amazing, you’ve got such a unique sound” Ayla said.

Your face turned into a great smile. “Wow thanks, that really means a lot” You said sincerely. You were still a small artist, so it really felt great to hear people say that they loved your music.

“We’re recording some new material today,” Finn said. “It’d be cool if you stayed and listened but uh, only if you wanted to, you don’t have to!” Finn stumbled, spitting out his words nervously.

You looked at your phone and checked the time. You didn’t have to be anywhere for a few hours so you figured you might as well hang around and listen. “Yeah sure, I’d love to” You smiled.

A huge grin came across Finn’s face and he nodded before moving around to get everything set up for their session.

Malcom was the first to record on the drums. They were recording their first original song during this session. It currently didn’t have an official name yet. Finn only referred to it as Song 101. While Malcom was recording, you were sat on the old purple couch outside of the booth watching everything going on inside. Finn came and plopped himself down next to you and started talking.

“So how did you get into music?” He asked right off the bat.

“Well my dad was a sound engineer, like one of the people who works on producing music sort of, and so he would always be playing all kinds of music around the house and I just sang along. My mom stuck me in piano lessons which I loathed but reluctantly did anyways. I wanted to take guitar but she said that piano was the base of understanding all instruments so I didn’t start guitar until I was like eleven I think.” You explained. Your music history wasn’t that interesting yet everyone wanted to know it.

Finn eyes were lit with excitement. “That’s so cool, I’m not great at piano, like I wish I was better but guitar is my thing.”

“It suits you,” You said. “Your voice is great too but the guitar makes the complete package.”

“You like my voice?” Finn asked.

You shrugged. “Yeah, you’ve got this cool indie rock persuasion sound which I totally dig.”

Finn’s already there grin slipped into a full smile. “Thanks, that means a lot” He said sincerely.

Before you two could talk more, Dan, the man in charge of recording, announced that Finn was needed in the booth. Finn looked at you with a look of excitement before pushing off the couch and picking up his guitar.

“Break a leg!” You encouraged and Finn let out a deep breath before pushing open the door and entering the booth.

“Let’s do vocals, yeah?” Dan said into the mic so Finn could hear. He nodded his head before Dan pressed some buttons so Finn could sing. You watched intently as Finn closed his eyes before starting.

“See you driving round town with a chip on your shoulder

Well it’s you who gets the last laugh after I call her

I feel cold, oh lord I feel cold.

I feel cold.” Finn sang.

Dan stopped to comment. “That sounded great. Let’s move on to the next part, okay?”

Finn nodded and Dan cued him again for singing. This time you noticed as Finn didn’t close his eyes as he sang. Instead he looked right at you.

“When I’m gone you’re there,

When I’m gone you’re here,

When I’m gone you’ll be older,

When I’m gone you’ll always be cold.

I feel cold, oh lord I feel cold. I feel cold.”

Finn sang with a look of both aspiration yet desperation at the same time. You could only wonder who he was singing to.

Nonetheless, he sounded great. He was able to move his voice around, creating a crisp sound that only he could. You’ve listened to Calpurnia before, once live at the Strange 80’s show. Their cover of Weezer’s El Scorcho was your favorite. You knew that this band was going to go far.

Caught up in your thoughts, you hadn’t noticed that Finn finished with the vocals and now Dan had him working on guitar. Now as you paid attention, you watched as Finn waited for Ayla to join him in the booth. Until she was ready Finn decided it was time to goof around.

First, he was trying to play with his opposite hand but the sound it was making was as atrocious as it was funny. Finn enjoyed seeing you laugh so he continued on. He swung his guitar behind his head and tried to play the chords without being able to see. He was actually pretty decent at this, something that can only be done with lots of practice. Finally, you watched as Finn attempted to play the chorus while only standing on one leg. By now you had already pulled your phone out and was snapchatting the whole experience. Finn was holding his balance pretty well before toppling over, guitar and all. At this point, Ayla was ready to go and Dan was not impressed but you were doubled over with laughter.

“Finn, please get up.” Dan said over the speaker before glancing back to you with a look.

Finn quickly jumped back up, adjusting his guitar to the right place. “Yep, sorry Dan.” He said with a nervous smile but as soon as Dan looked away, Finn was winking at you with a smirk.

Ayla and Finn worked together, strumming out the chords and swinging the melodies. You couldn’t help but stare at Finn as he played. On stage, he has such a persona that was completely different from what you were seeing. Here he was concentrating, rocking to the rhythm and letting it take over him as he played. It was a whole other Finn. And for some reason you felt lucky that you got to see it.

Soon enough, Finn’s time in the booth was over and he was walking back to you, slinging his guitar off his body and into its case.

“How did that sound?” Finn asked slightly out of breath.

“It sounded amazing.” You said. “You sounded amazing!” You added.

Finn blushed and sheepishly looked away. “Really?” He asked.

“Yeah! You’re like a whole other person in there, completely different from when I saw you on stage!” You explained.

“You’ve seen us live?” He asked with wide eyes.

You nodded with a grin.

“When?” He asked, hungry for your answers.

“Strange Eighties.” You said. “I know El Scorcho was an exception to the theme but you guys killed it! Best version I’ve ever heard, hands down” You added.

Finn looked like he was about to pass out. He threw himself down onto the couch beside you.

“No way!” He said astounded. “I’m going to need you to write that down for me because no one will believe me when I tell them that Y/N L/N likes my music!”

You laughed at the boy next to you and reached for a scrap piece of paper on the table nearby. “Okay sure” you said shaking your head. You quickly scribbled out the sentence you had just said and held it out to Finn.

He glanced at the paper before accepting it. “You should also write your number on that too” He said with a cheeky grin.

You leaned back into the couch and crossed your arms still holding the paper in your hand. “Are you asking me out Finn Wolfhard?” You raised an eyebrow smirking back.

Finn blushed but didn’t give up. “Well technically I am asking for your number, but since you seem so willing I guess I could ask you out as well.”

You uncrossed your arms and started to write your number on the scrap paper. “Okay, but I’ll only say yes if there’s ice cream involved.” You stated with a smile.

You held out the paper for Finn and this time he took it from you. “Are you serious?” he asked with wide eyes. You looked at him with confusing face. “You’ll actually go out with me?”

You nodded your head while tucking your hair behind your ear. “Yeah, of course.” You smiled.

“Fuck yeah” Finn said, excitement all over.

From across the room Jack piped up. “Swear jar, Finn.” He said in a monotone voice. He must have to say it often.

Finn reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a quarter. “It was worth it” he said as he threw the coin over to his bandmate.

[wildseedculturalgroup]

SIR Rebekkah Holylove : A Funk Lesson in Solitude

At sixteen Luther Vandross founded and served as the official president of a famous diva’s fan club. I can see him now, watching her seasoned shoulder bounce and measuring the funk in the black church two-step she makes across soul music platforms. He’s standing stage left, holding onto the curtain for balance. He’s lip syncing every song, calculating the mastery of her diction and phrasing. He’s studying her like a text; setting the stage for his own practice—one that would place him at microphones behind David Bowie, Chaka Khan, Barbra Streisand, Bette Midler and Donna Summer. He was Twenty Feet from Stardom and rising. Luther Vandross, the teenage boy, understood how Patricia Holt-Edwards from Philadelphia, became the legendary kick-your-shoes-off and snatch-your-own-wig when the tension builds between audience, music and voice; Luther Vandross presided over the fan club of Queen Motha Patti Labelle.

Strange things happen when an artist is moved to a new depth by another; we become fanatical about the fantastical beings who place us deeper into the abyss of craft. The management of details of who these artists are and how they come to being becomes a rite of passage. We obsess over the decisions they make to bring an album to fruition and take pride in knowing all things, from the major to the mundane; collaborations, music video direction, hair color, shoe size, inspiration behind the lyrics.  We fancy ourselves experts of our muses. And when it comes to black music, the stakes are higher—people stay questioning our responses to the brilliance of black artists; reading them as tribal reactions, as opposed to a focused study of mastery. But no. I’m from the school of Luther—committed to scholarship, research questions and methodology when pursuing the legends.

 There’s a strong chance that I became the unofficial president of Joi’s fan club twenty-five years ago. For twenty-five years, I’ve paid attention to her musical movement. Today, I feel confident that if asked to build a theoretical framework around the genius of her crunk-funk sound, I’d have my fucking PhD. Dr. DJ Lynnée Denise.

She’s a beast.

Joi occupies space in the lineage of artists who thrive across genre lines. How is that possible? Ask Prince, Ask Aretha, Ask Nina. Ask Stevie. Black people live hyphenated lives, so it’s fair to say our musicians embody and shift the context of what DuBois called “Double Consciousness,” musical cross pollination made available to the Souls of Black Folk. 

The three of us—Joi, DuBois and myself—have something in common: Nashville.

I saw Joi for the first time while I was sitting in the living room with a group of artists I met during my freshmen year at Fisk University in Nashville, Tennessee. She was in a straightjacket hanging on a meat hook in a blue lit walk-in meat refrigerator squirming with hopes of being released. The video was for the song “Sunshine in the Rain,” her first single. I’ve not turned away since.

DuBois graduated from Fisk in 1888, 109 years before me. Joi is the daughter of legendary NFL football player Joe Gilliam. She was a legacy student at the historically black public university Tennessee State on Nashville’s Jefferson Street. The intersections of our lives and the black excellence it carries spans centuries.

The artists in the room knew who she was and dismissed my awe with, “oh that’s Joi.” I was in her hometown. She was their hero. “Joi from down here” they said with regional pride from blunt stained lips, “she been on that different shit for years.” I took that to mean Joi was ahead of her time and an inspiration to the folks who watched her take shape.

I copped her debut album The Pendulum Vibe (1993) and listened to it nonstop for a good year. It filled the void created by LaFace’s TLC and the Sean Puffy girl group hip-hop soul phase. Don’t get me wrong, I fucked with Mary J Blige from day one and still do, but had real questions about the war on originality that was creeping into the black musical lexicon in a Bad Boy kinda way.

The Pendulum Vibe, ironically produced by the mind behind TLC—Dallas Austin, was a game changer, a call to arms for folks looking for sophisticated melodies and enough lyrical depth to drown in. Songs like Fatal Lovesick Journey had me pondering co-dependent relationships while puffing Black & Milds and drinking Alizé. There was well-placed wailing, playful and unapologetic sexual confidence and a genre defying southern rooted sound. Anti-formulaic, the music from this album spoke to my heart and gave me hope that Black America had something to compare to the brilliant UK Soul coming out of London and coming from my speakers. Though raunchier in her approach, Joi was in the Mica Paris and Caron Wheeler category for me. My ears recognized her as a kindred spirit. After the fiftieth listen of the Pendulum Vibe I sat myself down and said with all honesty, "this a bad bitch and the masses ain’t gon’ understand," hence her long-term relationship with the abstract term, the underground.

I'm torn.

Ever since I can remember I’ve been one of those people who rolls my eyes when I hear my favorite song from a new album I'm spending time with being played on the radio. I'm suspicious of what becomes widely accepted; afraid to see the artists I love hand over their authenticity to the police of mediocrity guarding the door of pop music in America. And yeah, everybody gotta eat, but why eating gotta equate to contractual agreements that alter your purpose? Prince’s decision to pen the word slave on his face in the 90s gave us an idea of what can happen when sitting down at the negotiating table with corporations who measure your worth by your marketability to an underdeveloped and musically ahistorical masses. I wanted to keep Joi underground where she was protected from the fuckery—following her own north star to musical freedom.

Her performances embodied all the funkiness my little soul had been waiting for at a time when black radio was pinned under the thumb of payola. She’s cut from the same cloth as Hendrix. Betty Davis. Vanity. One minute she gives you seasoned performer on a FunkJazzKafe stage alongside Too Short; then range and multi-dimensionality on stage with FishBone and De La Soul the next. Embedded in her vocal chords is a deep knowledge of Funkentelechy and Parliamentarian Cosmology, a heavy load of legacy to carry, but she’s bout it and lives inside the mashup.

Between 1996 and 2006, Joi recorded three more studio albums Amoeba Cleansing Syndrome (1997), a highly desired cult classic shelved before release due to the collapse of Universal Records.  It can now be purchased through her website, a gift for fans who were diggin’ through the crates in search of a copy. She produced the next two albums Star Kitty’s Revenge (2002) and Tennessee Slim is the Bomb (2006) independently.

Joi had a major hand in shaping the Atlanta Dungeon Family/Organized Noize sound; she sang background on Goodie Mob’s classic first album Soul Food; she worked closely with many artists, among them George Clinton, Sleepy Brown, Big Krit, 2 Chainz, Queen Latifah, and Tricky from London; she collaborated with Raphael Sadiq’s on his Lucy Pearl project; she joined Outkast on their final tour in 2014; and became a backing vocal for D’Angelo during his Black Messiah Tour in 2015. And still, with curriculum vitaé in hand, Joi found time to help, as she would say, “wipe down,” a few aspiring singers through her artist development business.

Upon moving to Los Angeles, after a twenty-year stint in Atlanta, she sat her ass down in a studio and pulled diamonds from a year of solitude to create a new gem of an album. S.I.R. Rebekkah Holylove. But don’t call it a comeback.

There’s a white-supremacist-mean-spirited-anti-intellectual-creamsicle-looking-fuckboy in the white house. I applaud anyone who can navigate this political shit show and turn away from social media long enough to concentrate on their respective practices. I live for the kind of high art that can offer the world a break from this reality fiction, and for these reasons and more Joi came through.  The journey of the album begins with three words that pushes us to the other side.

“Bitch I’m Free”

S.I.R. Rebekkah Holylove is what happens when anticipation meets expectations. Noteworthy is that this album, too, was produced independently in the spirit of Prince. He was one of the first artists to sell an album exclusively through a website because “Record company people are shady.”

Living liner notes are positioned between each track giving us poetic reflections that contextualize the song that follows or precedes it. Everything we need to move through the world of this album is provided, including a video for “Stare at Me” produced by Bruce Coles (Passerine Productions) and a cinematic vignette directed by Rahsaan Patterson. 

Joi’s is the only voice on the album. Don’t be fooled into thinking that there are three fellow bad bitches in the studio making it happen. It’s just her. She writes all the album’s lyrics, arranges all its vocals, and produces some of the tracks. She uses very little of the vocal compressor, an effect that most contemporary singers rely on, creating distance between authenticity and the voices you think you love.

I had a chance to spend some time with Joi in her studio, a live/work space she calls “The Funky Jewelry Box.” Inspirational posters and album covers drape the walls from Dolly Pardon to Led Zepplin and Natalie Cole to Minnie Ripperton. It’s an incubator for critical artistic thought up in there.

As I settled and began to think about questions that would unlock the door to the mysteries of this project, she was unwrapping a detox products from Dr. Sebi. “It’s a perfect time to fast,” she says, while removing the bubble wrap from a dark brown bottle of bodily goodness. She’s sitting at her recording station in an electric blue velvet cushioned vintage chair, “a rare find from a spot in LA,” she brags “undiscovered by hipsters and still affordable in its dealings.” The chair is perfect for the matriarchal themed nature of this album. Above her is a classic studio microphone that looks committed to its job and familiar with the racy nature of her spirit. There’s an intimacy between the two. We agree to listen to the album. She presses play and guides me through the sonic journey—joint in hand, ears on guard.

 “Ruler,” the album’s opening track sets an important tone. It’s a theme song straight out of The Wiz; a Glinda the Good witch anthem for women who understand the magic they walk with; Not Black Girl Magic, but Black Magic Women and their dominion over the proverbial Oz. Mind the distinction. Produced by Brook D’ Leux, Joi describes the song as a “declaration and celebration of the historical facts, a firm reminder of the greatness of women.” It’s a timely tune given the national dialogue concerning the crumbling of patriarchal-powered privilege. At the same time “Ruler” avoids being reactionary and trendy, there are no hashtags connected to this reckoning. The chorus is a command: “It's a never-ending, pitch black, goddess situation/Pussy power, life giving, matriarchy, salvation.” Period.

Joi takes the lead production credit in the song “Berlin,” and invites us inside the mind of a wanderluster fantasizing about a life alongside the people of Germany. While many artists fixate on cities like Paris and London, Joi paints a different kind of dance with a country rarely explored as a destination for aspiring Black American expatriates. “I’m on my way to Berlin, I hear it’s my kind of town.” She places herself under the light of a Berlin moon drinking a vintage glass of wine, but like a true gypsy spirit never commits to the place. “I want to call it home sometimes.” The song was written while Joi was getting her bearings in California. She uses the lyrics to negotiate a plan of action giving herself two years to make it happen, and when it does, the people of Berlin will know she’s arrived as an ATLien “Givin the Deutschland something they’ve never seen…High Priestess Funk Supreme.” Bopping her head from the blue chair she says “Berlin is one of my landing pads on the planet, it’s still on my mind and manifesting itself. The song is a call out to a future site.”

Joi’s racy songs have a long-standing history. On previous albums “Narcissica Cutie Pie” (Pendulum Vibe), explores sexual fluidity and bright dark fantasies about the spectrum of desire, while songs like “Lick” (Star Kitty’s Revenge) and “Dirty Mind” (Amoeba Cleansing Syndrome) help us hold the power of sex as a powerful tool that embodies Uses of the Erotic.  Sir Rebekah HolyLove builds on Joi’s collection of sex positive cantatas with “The Edge” produced and arranged by Joi with additional editing by Brook D’ Leux. A bass heavy funk monster that promises listeners a key to cities where “We can fuck until the dawn, making love til cherries gone”. I mean, yeah you’re married boo, but this is a acomplicated situation, the song implies. Cheating could become an option if good dick [or fill in the blank] is involved, and not many of us are willing to share that kind of ethical vulnerability on wax. And I don’t mean no disrespect to your official union, she asserts, but “you fuck me right and you’re mine tonight.” We never once forget that Joi is a human being dealing with the most undesirable and the most pleasurably outrageous scenarios that life asks us to consider; infidelity, heartbreak, orgasmic accomplishments. But the appeal is that she’s aware of the costs; “I’m standing on the edge with you/so if I jump will I fall or fly?”

In the song “Kush,” Featuring 2 Chainz and produced by Joi and Organized Noize we get another low bass banger. This time about a woman and her healing smokable herb, and what it means to pass one with a person you know good-and-well you’ll be taking home that night. Smoking as a form of foreplay is under-discussed. High sex deserves a love song and she delivers.

Far from insane to the membrane Cypress Hill or Snoop Dog indo smoke antics, we get reminded of the overlooked relationship that women have with a strain of weed that finds home in our exhale. Both Joi and Rihanna manage to pull off their relationships to weed well. It’s tastefully performative, radically unladylike and part of the pleasure in her solitude.

“Kingless” is a soundtrack for heart work and not surprisingly, the last song. Reflective and heavy with confession, admission and surrender. Produced by Joi, it gives us space to imagine what it might feel like to return home alone with all your matriarchal musings, global adventures and funk fantasies without a mate to share it with.  What does partnership look like for a rooted rock star? How does confidence read to potential companions who may or may not have received the necessary training one might need to be the queen’s match? Nevertheless, the desire (without desperation) to walk through the world with a lover is palpable. “Kingless” is the album’s only song that can be categorized as a ballad, should you feel compelled to pin it down to a style. But I heard it as a place of departure, a new turn on an old road. A shift in the spirit of the project, a bookend to a shelf of emotional intelligence in song. And she asks very simply who can match my royalty? My peer in love? My friend? Her answer; “Not a prince half grown”.

The song “Stare at Me” produced by Joi and Brook D’ Leau enjoyed an early release as a music video, but it strikes an important chord. I hear the song as a public health announcement about the egoist and narcissist nature of social media. She describes the song’s intent as representing “The multi-layeredness of wanting to be seen and of wanting to be left the fuck alone, also wanting to control the way you’re seen.” Social Media has created a kind of “hand-held seduction, hijacking my point of view.” Everybody’s watching she says “and I wish I didn’t care, I want to care less, but I want to be on your mind.” The video and the music do the song justice, there’s a visual narrative reinforcing selfie culture and the unwillingness to think through the nuances of big issues that’s shaping how we all relate. Instead, we get our opinions “hijacked” and find ourselves following the wave of the crowd. Musically, “Stare at Me” is so well constructed. The pauses and spaces, the kick drums and lyrics that dance through the bars.

 S.I.R. Rebekkah Holylove is a tribute to an album culture long forgotten. With the push for iTunes singles and music streaming culture, the intimate relating of album between artist and audience has been compromised. The album also holds its own up against a culture that produces albums at a rate impossible to enjoy, I’ll be listening to S.I.R. Rebekkah Holylove for years to come and “The Pendulum Vibe” brought me here.  Joi says she drew from various experiences to produce this album and she’s continued to work on other major projects (both in television and music), without compromising the integrity of her solo work. In her words “I have one of the most peaceful lives than anyone I know, but I recognize that solitude and peace is something I earned and it was necessary for this particular juncture.” 

Writing this piece felt like that time when Patti Labelle, and a fully established Grammy awarded Luther Vandross, shared a stage one glorious night in 1985. It’s that moment when student, fan, and gatekeeper of the musical masters graduate into a league of their own with a platform to articulate the many ways they’ve been shaped, artists marked by the legends.  And because Joi’s work has been canonized by a global community my work to unpack her work is really a citational practice. S.I.R. Rebekkah Holylove, is on a Black Atlantic continuum—a fantastic voyage will be had.