#how the hell did I never know this about Bruce Springsteen?? Like at all

[slavghoul]

Interview from Sweden Rock Magazine 6/2023

In which Tobias talks about Phantomime, his inner little evil dictator, and why he'll never be like Bruce Springsteen, among other things.

You've just released another cover EP. I always thought that Ghost would be like Metallica and become known for picking up lesser-known songs, making them their own, and playing one or two covers at every show. You were on your way to that with first The Beatles' "Here Comes the Sun" and then with Roky Erickson's "If You Have Ghosts." After that, you released a bunch of covers, but in recent years, you've almost only played "Enter Sandman" live.

In the beginning, and especially up until 2015, the choice to play covers was not in exchange for original songs, but it was because we simply needed songs to play live. We played 'Here Comes the Sun' to fill out our set. We only had one album, and it was only 30 minutes long or something.

But "Here Comes the Sun" must have given you a taste for it since it worked so fantastically well live.

Yes, absolutely. We actually plan to play it again at some point because I think we can do a really great version of it now that our lineup better matches the sound of the song. The last time we played it was so long ago that we still used a lot of backing tracks and stuff. I think we can play it better now. But did you imagine that we would do covers of Saint Vitus, Trouble, and Coven?

No. Unlike Metallica, you didn't start with hard rock covers...

No, no.

...but with "Here Comes the Sun" and then "If You Have Ghosts," which became a big song in its own way, but "Enter Sandman" is a completely different type of cover.

Exactly, it has a completely different purpose. I think it's a good song, and it became a fun thing. There was clarity in why we played it and what was important about it. We don't do it anymore, not because we don't believe in the purpose, but it had its time. Now, "Jesus He Knows Me" is the most fun to incorporate because now we've embraced it as our own song. I feel like I have so much else, and I don't want to be... I mean, some people think it's a lot of fun, and Bruce Springsteen does a lot of covers at the end of a concert. A lot of cool rock 'n' roll classics. People enjoy it, and it's great. Disturbed also does that and plays "Highway to Hell" and "Run to the Hills" or whatever they do. It's a fun way to end a concert, but I don't know, I have a fondness for dramaturgy. That's why I could never do a Bruce Springsteen. I can't go on stage and just say, "Hey, what do you want to hear?" and then improvise. It's a show, and everything fits together tightly. I've been sitting here with our lighting technician for five days. We sit all day and just program lights based on the smallest damn beat so that it fits and so that we know that the guitarist will come out and switch to that guitar for the next song. It's this song, and he will come out there, and then we have to change these lights in the dark so that it's red on him there. Then it's not possible to have a "cover hour" at the end where we just turn on the lights and play Judas Priest. But if we do a Judas Priest cover at some point that feels really relevant and we can do it really well, then I have no problem arranging the lights and incorporating it into the context. Metallica is much more rock 'n' roll, they are much more "loose" than what we are... than I am. They have the ability to just go out and more or less turn on the lights in the room and play "Am I evil?", "Whiskey in a jar," "Blitzkrieg," and "Breadfan," and the happiest of all is me. I love when that happens, but I don't want to do it with Ghost. But sure, if in 30 years we have recorded a bunch of fun covers, maybe it could be a fun thing to do a tour with just a bunch of that.

How funny that you say "if we have recorded a bunch of fun covers." Ghost has already recorded a bunch of covers, so aren't they fun?

Haha! Yeah, yeah, but we're still building, of course. We're talking a lot about this, me and my agents and management. When is the time to do things? When should we take advantage? What is a "downplay" for us today? A "downplay" is very clear if you're Metallica. Everyone knows that when they come and perform, it's at least at the Globe Arena, sold out for at least two nights without any problem, and at their biggest, it's now two nights at Ullevi. For them, a clear "downplay" would be if they come and play at Göta Lejon again. There's a clarity there, and it's something they can indulge in.

Explain it so that people understand. What is a "downplay"?

A "downplay" is when a big band plays at a small venue. Like the Rolling Stones when they played at Circus. It's a clear "downplay," and there's a clarity there where you know that "now when I go and see the Rolling Stones at Circus, they won't have their big stage, they won't do this, and they'll just come up and play a bunch of really obscure stuff." Then there's a clarity. It's not something for everyone who just wants to hear the big hits.

And are there plans to do this?

If everything goes as planned and if there's still an interest in it in the future, I would think it would be really fun to intentionally and clearly reshape the show. To do something different on the side that isn't meant for these bigger things that we're currently trying to find our "pacing" in.

The first time I interviewed you was in 2011 at a sushi place in Stockholm.

Was it that long ago?

Yes, we met at the central station in Stockholm, and you had just had your first meeting with Nicholas Johansson at Universal, so this was before he signed you.

Okay, so it was the same day then? Oh, damn.

It became a full page in Expressen, and you said that you want to take Ghost to where Rammstein is. Now you've said the same thing again, but Rammstein no longer plays at the Globe Arena and instead does three nights at Ullevi. It feels like you're constantly shaping Ghost based on Rammstein. What will you do when you've reached three nights at Ullevi?

I hope one never becomes completely satisfied. The perfectionist in me is frustrated every day on tour when things don't turn out as good as I had envisioned. But I also have a cutoff point... There's a point every day when I try to see the glass as half full when it comes to perfection before the concert, and I know something is wrong. If I know that a spotlight operator doesn't seem to understand the show, it's an irritation that might continue during the concert because someone keeps missing their cues, that is, what they're supposed to do. You can tell they don't know the show. It's super annoying. It's the kind of thing that both I and everyone on stage feel, and we're all aware of it. Everyone has been made aware of what we're trying to achieve. We've arranged the whole show based on the idea that "when you come up those stairs, you will be visible, and then you will see what you're doing because a light will shine on you." If that doesn't happen, there's a risk that the person simply won't see what they're doing and will fall off. It happens. There's a lot of that kind of thing that's highly orchestrated with very narrow margins, and it has to be right. But I usually reach a point where it's like, "Now the concert is over. Everyone did their best, even that idiot up there who missed all their cues. Everyone did their best, and the audience doesn't seem to have left and demanded their money back, so you have to see it as a damn good result." That's how I try to approach it every day because, in the end, "no matter what, this is so much cooler than working a regular job," haha! I'm where I want to be, doing what I want to do. Then I have this little circus director Nazi inside me as well, screaming and wanting things to be a certain way. But I also laugh easily, so it's about constantly trying to balance everything and see it as always moving forward. But it also means that I know that even the day when or if we stand there at Ullevi and do a concert ourselves, it won't be exactly as I imagined. Something new will happen, and if we have the show I want, it will rain like hell or something. That's always how it is. Metallica's Lars also told me that when we were on tour together: "It's incredible. Even at our level, there are still things that happen that make us go, 'Damn, we're not quite there yet!'" But that's the thing. I don't think pirates become pirates just to come home and sit with the treasure. It was the piracy itself that was quite fun.

Now I'm going to say something provocative. This is Ghost's worst cover so far. I don't even like the original.

Which one?

"Phantom of the Opera."

Okay, haha!

Yeah, I got the laugh I wanted to be able to print, haha!

Well, haha! Don't you like the album or the song?

I'm not a big Iron Maiden fan, and I don't consider the Paul Di'Anno era sacred.

I love Iron Maiden and think the first two albums are really cool, but they got their act together when Bruce Dickinson joined. It was with "The Number of the Beast" that they became an arena band and started sounding really damn good. I know it's like swearing in church. It made me feel a bit inspired and made me think that if I were to do something with Iron Maiden, it damn well had to be something from those first albums. They have two albums with really proggy stuff and quirky arrangements, and you can really tell they had a bit of time and that they were low-budget recordings. That gets me going. Paul Di'Anno sings, and I love Paul Di'Anno. He's really cool, has a great voice, and sings with a lot of sloppiness. He soars and flies melodically - just the fact that "I know I'll do that in a different way." I've always liked "Phantom of the Opera," but for a long time in my life, before I really figured out how to count, I didn't quite understand how to play the intro. Not tonally, but I didn't get how to count in the intro. That was such a thing that one day when I suddenly figured it out, I thought, "Damn, I want to play this song someday." You miss it because on the album, you don't hear how great the intro is.

Is it you playing?

Yes, although Fredrik "Kulle" Åkesson (Opeth) is also playing. But I recorded all the demos, I play bass on the record, and I recorded all the guitars first.

Did Kulle do all the guitar solos on the EP?

Well, mostly, with one exception.

It's a very shreddy EP with a lot of flashy guitar solos.

Yes, exactly, there are quite a lot of guitar solos. Generally, this is how it works when we work: I compose the solos. When I write solos, it's not just a bunch of bends, but it's a melody. I'm very influenced by Kirk Hammett, especially how he played on "Ride the Lightning," "Master of Puppets," "...And Justice for All," and even on the black album. Every time he plays solos, they are melodies. He comes into the song and more or less plays another song within the song, and it's very hummable. It's not incredibly difficult stuff, and that's roughly my school of soloism. I like to compose the solos so that they turn out the way I want, but I myself am not a great shredder. There are a lot of tricks in the studio where I sit and play something over and over again, and then you can cut it in. And then you can slow down the speed, and then I can record it and make it perfect. But the result is that when I say, "It should go like this," Kulle listens to it and says, "Yeah, I can do that part a bit differently. Then I can do it this way to make it even faster." He plays solos from start to finish with his highly trained fingers. He has that whole thing in his DNA, while I'm more of a songwriter and composer.

But you play a solo on the EP, right?

I don't know if we kept it. I don't fucking know because we changed a lot of things.

Because you said that Kulle plays all the solos except one.

It could be a thing, but I don't remember if we changed it or not. But if we take "Phantom of the Opera," there are quite a few different guitar parts in it, purely guitar-wise. It's that fairly standardized Iron Maiden thing where there are two lead guitars playing melodies together. That's one thing, and then there was a slightly bluesy solo at a place where I added some storming Rachmaninoff piano that's absolutely not in the original. I thought it should be a bit of a stormy sea, and then there's a part with two guitars playing the same thing simultaneously, and then a solo duel starts. On the original album, it's Dave Murray and Dennis Stratton playing, and their solo duel is just okay. I don't think it's that great. Sorry, Iron Maiden fans, but in terms of solos, Iron Maiden really got good the day Adrian Smith joined. Adrian Smith is the one playing all the cool solos. I'm really sorry, Dave Murray, but that's just how it is! I know what Kulle has to go through because as a soloist, it's quite tough to constantly be told what to play, and then he has to do tricks and improve things. So, I said, "In this solo duel, you can pretty much play whatever you want from here to there, but I don't want you to challenge me because it will be a bad match. It'll be Carl Hamilton against Woody Allen, and that's not fun. We'll bring in Lasse Johansson from Candlemass." I love Candlemass, I love Lasse's guitar playing, and I know that Kulle loves Lasse. I just sat there, and they got to do their things, and you can hear that it's a bit more improvised. It's more Kulle when he gets to play his stuff, and it's nice.

I want to highlight a cover that turned out great on the EP: Tina Turner's "We Don't Need Another Hero." It feels quite suitable to cover because At The Movies also did a fantastic version of it with Ronnie Atkins on vocals.

Actually, I haven't heard it at all. I must have missed it.

Ghosts' version turned out really well, but isn't it too obvious to cover a big song, so to speak?

I would be a bit opportunistic and say this: it probably depends on how it lands. We stuck our necks out the day we were going to play "Enter Sandman" at our concert. It was one thing on TV because that's what it was (at the TV4-broadcasted "Polar Music Prize" in 2018), but you know that this is like playing "Smoke on the Water," "I Wanna Rock," or "Ace of Spades." It's one of those songs that is too well-known in a way. It can feel pancake-like, but it went well, and I feel that "We Don't Need Another Hero" could also become such a song, provided that the audience likes it. But it's not a song that you want to take up five minutes of the concert if it's not super fun.

And how do you know if the audience likes it?

The easiest way is to test it live. But you'll notice when the album comes out. If everyone mentions all the other songs and not that one, then maybe not many people are interested. Also, we usually do this sometimes during rehearsals: "We rehearse it and see how it sounds. How does it feel? How does it feel to play? Does it stick? Do we play it nicely? Does it work live?" I believe that if we fast forward to a huge presumed Ullevi [stadium] in the future, it's a fantastically cool song to play.

#the band ghost #tobias forge #interview

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

Well here's a fucking Chortle headline for the roundup:

Holy fuck. I cannot believe that. Never for a moment did it cross my mind that this might happen. It's been nearly ten years since he left, and this never once seemed like a possibility.

I remember exactly when he left. I know it was announced in February 2015, because I was sitting in my bedroom in the city where I lived in 2015, where I'd moved to join their bigger and more impressive sports team and ended up just being miserable and lonely for two years because I did not have any of the skills required to fit in there. Anyway, it's fine, not the point of this post. The point is I know it was 2015 and I know it was February because I vividly remember sitting in that bedroom and scrolling on Facebook, and seeing a mock Valentine's Day card that said "May Jon Stewart be the only man to break your heart this week." And that's how I found out he'd announced he was leaving The Daily Show.

I know when he actually left, too. It was August 2015. Because Donald Trump walked down that fucking escalator in June 2015, and announced he'd be running for president. I remember watching The Daily Show that night, and Jon Stewart, incredibly pleased at the comedy gold mine that was about to befall all political comedians, looked into the camera and said to Donald Trump: "Thank you for making my last six weeks the best six weeks." Then he stayed on for six more weeks and made Trump jokes every night, then he left, and the world immediately ended. Looking back with a bit of perspective, Jon Stewart really did happen leave the show right as the Western world was on a precipice of having the norms as we thought we knew them all crumble at once. I'm thinking of that timeline that says 2000-2015=nostalgia, 2016-2019=2016, 2020-present=plague. Those are pretty much my life's eras. And Jon Stewart was there for a hell of a lot of that first one. (Not actually the first era of my life, there is also 90s=childhood, but I'm pretty sure everything was fine then, right?)

It's a bit weird to me now to see Jon Stewart as having an individual career, if that makes any sense at all. If you'd asked me in 2009 who my favourite comedians were, it wouldn't have occurred to me to say Jon Stewart or Stephen Colbert, even though I watched them both every night and loved those shows. I hardly even though of those as things that people had to make by being comedians and writers. They were just fixtures. Part of the landscape. I was so confused when he left the show, I didn't think it could exist without him. It didn't really feel like television could exist without Jon Stewart coming on at the end of the night. I remember learning some time ago about Marc Maron's feud with Jon Stewart over their days on the comedy circuit, and that was so weird. Jon Stewart didn't have days on the comedy circuit. He didn't have a career you could object to or admire, or opinions you could agree with or disagree with. He was just a fixture in the landscape.

I remember the first time I saw Jon Stewart. I think it was probably 2006, maybe 2005. I was really into Rick Mercer, this Canadian comedian who did TV shows where he made fun of the news. My mother put on a TV show, pointed to the guy behind the desk, and said, "That's Jon Stewart, he's like an American Rick Mercer." It only occurred to me relatively recently how funny it is to call Jon Stewart "an American Rick Mercer". But anyway, I watched that episode with my mom and then I kept doing that every night for many years.

I remember watching his final Daily Show episode with my mother, in August 2015. Bruce Springsteen came on live and played him out. My mother and I both got fairly emotional.

I kept watching The Daily Show for a long time after Jon Stewart left. I even followed a lot of the similar spinoff shows by its correspondents. I watched Full Frontal with Samantha Bee, and The Opposition with Jordan Klepper, and Larry Wilmore's The Nightly Show, and Hasan Minhaj's Patriot Act, and Michelle Wolf's The Break. Obviously, I followed John Oliver to Last Week Tonight (and would also if necessary follow him to the ends of the Earth, but that's beside the point).

I quite like Trevor Noah too; when he took over the show I read his autobiography and watched his stand-up specials and the documentary about him. I even saw him live in 2019. So I wasn't one of those people saying the show could never recover from Jon Stewart leaving. I watched a lot of the Trevor Noah years, and only dropped off from following it so closely fairly recently. It was around 2022, I think, when I just stopped keeping up with it. I had so much Britcom going on, and the world was so fucking depressing, getting all my news from actual news sites (as everyone should always always do, do not get your news from comedians, use political comedy as a way to lighten the mood of the regular news that you should first get from actual journalists, for the love of God please do not let the industry of actual journalism be steamrolled by entertainment) was stressful enough and I didn't want to keep having this other way of going over it.

So, those are a few disjointed memories that came into my mind when I saw that story this week. Here's another memory: I remember reading an interview with Jon Stewart from just after he left The Daily Show, in which he was asked if he would ever watch Fox News again. He replied that if he were ever in some post-apocalyptic scenario where Fox News was the only way to find out where to find vital life-saving information, he still wouldn't watch it. Because doing that job that required him to watch so much Fox News had destroyed him mentally and he could not wait to never ever ever ever ever do it again.

I was one of those people, after he left, saying, "I get it, it's high-pressure and difficult, I see why he wants to move on and have a break. But I would pay to have Jon Stewart just broadcast once a month in his sweatpants from his living room couch. He can't just be gone. He needs to keep telling us about the news, what will we do without him?"

We did do without him for nine years, and the world we thought we knew has crumbled around us in about twenty-five different ways since then, and I have absolutely no idea how the fuck Jon Stewart could fit into the landscape as it exists today. Like. I don't know what to do with this information. It wasn't on my radar. It's like finding out they're rebooting Buffy with the entire original cast and writing crew. Or if the girl I had a crush on from the ages of 9 to 14 showed up and told me she was in love with me. Of course it's what I wanted, but... what? Really? Why? Why now? Do I even still want this? You mean everything pre-2016 wasn't just a dream and we still technically exist in the same world as that one and the things in it are still out there and could just come back?

...There are people like @lastweeksshirttonight who actually know things about the US late-night comedy show scene, who have always understood that Jon Stewart is a person with a backstory who entered and then left an industry that also had a backstory and those things affected each other and this will have a significant effect on the ecosystem. Those people will have intelligent takes on what's happening right now. But I do not. Jon Stewart was on TV when I was in high school. He can't be on TV now because I am no longer in high school (even though I was 24 when he left in 2015). What the fuck?

[riality-check]

Rambling thoughts about Father’s Day and grief (of sorts) that I’ll probably delete in the morning because I need to stop oversharing on the internet.

My father’s mother died in January, when I was four. It kicked off the worst year in my family’s life, the details of which I won’t share. I got sick, then better. My father got sicker in a different way, and it took him a lot more to get better. My sister was not old enough to go to school. My mother was trying desperately to hold us all together.

And the spiral started with that one death.

Just like I don’t remember everything falling apart that year, I don’t remember my grandmother dying. I remember her alive, bits and pieces of her sitting in a chair and commenting idle things as my sister and I ran around her, but I don’t remember her dying.

The first time I was aware of it, that my grandmother died, was when my mother said it to explain why my father was crying in the middle of our living room floor.

I had never seen him cry before. I was in pre school, I was already able to read, and I thought it was impossible for my father to cry.

But there he was. Six feet tall, but he felt smaller than me.

So, I did what any four year old would have done: I put my arms around him and I said, “It’s okay, Daddy. We can get you a new mommy.”

I didn’t understand, then, why that made him cry harder.

I don’t know why I’m thinking about this today. Nearly fifteen years have passed. I FaceTimed my father today, and we talked about the Red Sox.

We always start off by talking about the Red Sox during baseball season.

It’s odd to think about grief on a holiday where I can celebrate someone who’s still with me, especially when that grief isn’t mine.

I don’t think you can really grieve someone you didn’t know all that well. So, I don’t think I’m grieving my grandmother. I think I might be finally understanding just a fraction of how my father felt, sitting there on the living room floor, with his daughter telling him with full confidence that the impossible can happen.

It’s 10 PM. I’m sitting outside, listening to Bruce Springsteen, and typing this up.

I’ve never cried while writing something before.

I don’t know what the point of this is. I think it might be an apology of sorts.

Sorry, Dad, for making the same mistake that every other kid makes. For failing to understand the distinction between cruelty and kindness.

I promise I’ll study tomorrow. I’ll get a B+ in my class. Hopefully.

Happy Father’s Day. I know you’ll never see this because there’s no way in hell I’m letting you know about this specific social media presence, but:

I love you.

#ria life #delete later

[briamichellewrites]

55

“How do you become a fucking billionaire before you’re twenty fifth birthday?”

Leo invited Jayde to a party with him and his friends. The party was laid back without drugs, just alcohol. How did she manage to become a billionaire? First of all, she had been working her ass off since she was eleven years old. Then, she invested in the stock market. A guy she thought was her father stole five hundred million dollars from her, so she sued him and got the money back. Did she still have investments in the stock market? Fuck yeah.

How was she working since the age of eleven? That’s when she signed her record contract. Her first album came out a year later. What company did she invest in? It was some company Jay Z owned. Her net worth was close to two billion, fifty thousand dollars. What was she going to do with that money? She had no fucking idea.

“I’ll buy a fucking island out of the middle of fucking nowhere Caribbean.”

“Damn. Where did you get such filthy language”, Leo joked.

“I think it’s the alcohol talking”, she joked back before taking another sip.

They laughed. Matthew McConaughey, Zac Efron, and Gisele Bundchen were all taken by her. Leo had introduced her as the little sister he never had. How did they meet? It was at a party for Victoria’s Secret models when she was around nineteen years old. She was a Victoria’s Secret model? Yeah, for two years. She had fun doing it, she just decided not to renew her contract because she wanted to focus more on her music.

She did print and runway. It was fun, though she didn’t take it too seriously. What was she doing now? She was songwriting for different artists. It was more adult contemporary. What artists has she worked with? Train, Gavin DeGraw, Bruce Springsteen, Jason Mraz, Rob Thomas. It kept her busy, which was great for her ADHD.

He jokingly asked her about Robin Thicke? We don’t talk about Robin Thicke. They laughed. Was there a story behind that? She rolled her eyes, making Leo laugh. Yeah, he was obsessed with going out with her. He told them about the Fourth of July party he had where he had to keep him away from her. She didn’t like him? No, she thought he was a creepy older dude. Leo could tell that something was going on by her body language but he didn’t know what.

He had read that she had been in the hospital for an alleged drug overdose but he didn’t know if it was true. Drugs were something he had zero interest in. After the party, he pulled her aside. What the hell was wrong with her? He knew something was wrong because he knew her. Was she using drugs? She backed away from him.

“Jayde.… you’re better than this. You might not believe it but it’s true. You don’t need drugs. You’re my little sister and I love you. I’m sorry for what Adam did. He’s not going to apologize, so I am. I’m apologizing for him.”

“What do you know about that?”

“I know that he left you for another guy and he took your daughter with him.”

“He fucking was done with me.”

“I know. You didn’t deserve that and I’m sorry. Please don’t do this. I’m going to get you help, okay? I want to help you get sober?”

“I love you but I’m not ready to get sober. You’re one of the only guys who don’t want sex.”

With that, she walked out while in tears. Matthew, who was walking back in, asked if she was okay. Yeah, she was. He could tell she was lying but he determined it wasn’t his business, so he went back inside. Leo sighed. What the hell happened? She’s a drug addict and was refusing help. He sighed and asked what he was going to do. I don’t know.

She was his little sister and he didn’t want to find out she died from an overdose. How old was she? Twenty one. Her fiancé and her broke up. He then moved on right after, breaking her heart. She was using drugs to self medicate. He felt helpless. Legally, she was an adult and could make her own decisions. He had to wait for her to hit rock bottom and decide to get help. I know. They walked back into his living room to continue drinking.

Jason. He had spent the night with her. They didn’t hook up because she was not in the right state of mind and he didn’t want to take advantage of her. Instead, he let her get everything out. She had demons in her head that she wanted to get rid of. The way she was doing that was with heroin. It was the only way she could forget that her ex had left her.

She had the drug with her. He watched her shoot it up in her foot while in her bathroom. She laid down on the floor after taking the needle out. He sat down and made sure she was still breathing. She was. He saw a girl in mental pain. She was also struggling with taking care of her mother and feeling alone. He wanted to cry because this was not the girl he used to know. She was sick. The drug was slowly going to kill her. He felt the tears going down his face. This was addiction.

Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t stop. It would always have a hold on her.

jaydejohnson: When you can stop you don't want to, and when you want to stop, you can’t. – Candy. #addiction

Heath didn’t know where Jayde was. He had been trying to reach her but she wasn’t answering his calls or texts. She was likely off with other men or had been forbidden from contacting him. Finally, she called him in tears. He invited her to his hotel room as he breathed a sigh of relief. She was still alive. When she got to his room, he pulled her into a hug as he closed the door. He then kissed her and she pulled him closer, lifting up his shirt.

He let it fall to the floor before taking off her shirt. They then went to the bed, where they laid down. He kissed her in between apologies. She forgave him. I love you. He loved her, too. Once they were high on cocaine, they made love on his bed. For the rest of the night, they did heroin, cocaine and pills. Anything to keep them high.

I can no longer cry. I groan a few times. Through the slits that are my eyes, I stare at my shoes, at the gray swirls of the concrete floor, at the bright orange lid of my syringe. And I realize—it’s a kind of horror—that this is my life. And I can’t stop. I just can’t stop. I can’t stop anymore. - Candy

The next day, her phone was blowing up with messages from Leo, Mike, Jon and Chester. Call me please! She woke up and went to the toilet to throw up. Heroin withdrawals were coming and she knew what to expect, as she flushed the toilet. She made herself get up to the faucet to rinse out her mouth. Heath also woke up feeling ill.

His body was getting rid of the chemicals he had put in it. He wanted to stay in one place because every move was torture. Together, they went through the process of eliminating the drugs from their bodies. One symptom at a time. One moment at a time.

@zoeykaytesmom @feelingsofaithless @jovichic-bonjovi4ever @borhap-au @beneathashadytree @duffs-shot-glass @geo-winchester @lokolokong-manunulat

[the-firebird69]

The Ghost of Tom Joad

They're waiting for his body and they're talking about me what he's saying is he wants to use his body to capture me and I tell Trump if I have to I'll use violence and it'll be extreme he doesn't get it the song is very horrible and horrifying to a lot of people at this time and it will be to a lot of people this man Tommy f is a psychopath and a sociopath and he was warped when he was younger not completely but he does a lot of evil things to people not a bad things. He's waiting for Trump to get there and it's after this sometime and I think it's after his accident when he's working for Stan he almost let himself on fire and he almost killed Brad and he's waiting for him to get there to take his brain out to put his own in to come and try and kidnap me he's not really a smart fellow right now but he wants to hold me hostage to try and gain the ship and he's reaching a level of desperation is very uncomforting and I don't like him and don't want him to hear or breathing down my neck just trying to live very stupid to look helpless to look harmless this song proves he's not and he's a very evil man and he's Bruce Springsteen and he's not BG and PG is evil in his own right but this guy Trump's just about everybody even the max which is not true there are a bunch of pigs for real now they act like normal people and stuff when approached about it it really they don't have a tolerance for all the stuff they've been doing to everybody else and that's a clue I'll tell you this song now is upsetting and my wife is probably upset

Zues

I have to tell you something I want this pig tell me if dead and if Trump doesn't get it he's dead it's so stupid the guy can't figure it out your next door keeps jamming it to you so he has an excuse to try and do something to my husband and that moron wants to go in your body and it doesn't do anything it's hell but he he is a stupid person he'll never get in here as a Terminator and people might let him buy as Tommy F to capture him and you get arrested three or four times a day here but he's still planning on doing it to you and he doesn't need you around he captures my husband you're dead think about it that way cuz that's reality he knows he's going through with it you're the one who doesn't know it

Hera as jen

I do hear you too and I respect your wishes no I respect the math this guy is trying to kill me to take my body to kidnap you I'm sitting here trying to kidnap you and it looks normal I got to tell you these people are cro-magnant do a lot of repetitive stuff and it's gross and it's dangerous and it's really us I'm going to go in my own out there and he's going to be waiting to grab me and the story is going to get out now wow that's disgusting and I see why I'm acting badly and I see why it's wrong

Trump that's my name Tom joad and it is and that was a part under that name and I look like I do in the video here and this is a movie I did ages ago and I feel that we're going to do it again I have several Bunches of these cars it looks like someone else's but I know how to run them they're very thankful and we get out of there and I have to the ship is there

We do thank him for trying but we don't need him there because he's easy and he's too loud and boisterous and it looks like Tommy f

Olympus

#Youtube

[a-moth-to-the-light]

when your alarms don't go off but you aren't exactly mad about it (dec 07, 2022)

It's been a little bit since I've done one of these! Life is hard, especially since I've been living in a triggered state for a little while now, but I appreciate getting to sit down and write, even if it's not too often!

Spotify Wrapped, 2

Today, we're talking about my Top Songs 2022 playlist, as created by Spotify! My comments, straight from my brain to your home heating system:

a. The lack of Bruce Springsteen here is surprising--I figured we might get "Lonesome Day" or "Land of Hope and Dreams" or "The River", all of which have been on my mind this year, in there somewhere, but the only Springsteen song on the list was "I'm Goin' Down" (though it was at #13, which is kind of awesome). It's a fantastic song that definitely matched my mood this year, so I'm glad it got represented-- but where's the rest of my Springsteen? How am I supposed to prove my fanboy status if Spotify does this to me :(

b. The artists tied for most songs on the list are Red Velvet & Bad Suns, each with five songs! Last year, only GFRIEND had five songs on the list--it's fun to have a tie this year! (And yes, one of those songs was "Mago"--even though we didn't know it was a goodbye song back then, there's something about it that just makes it the perfect way to finish off such a glorious career.) Perhaps most impressive is that all five Bad Suns songs are from only two albums total--I've actually only listened to two of their four albums, and yet I've already found so many classics!

c. There are four songs that have managed to make my Top Songs lists for three years straight now (my lists from 2018 & 2019 are very different, as my taste shifted a lot in 2020, so no songs have made it on more than three lists)--"As If It's Your Last" by Blackpink, "Bad Boy" by Red Velvet, "Blueming" by IU, and "Why So Lonely" by Wonder Girls (And "I Feel You" is back for its second year! Yay Wonder Girls!). Usually, when people gush about "Bad Boy" (as Reveluvs on YouTube are wont to do), I think okay, I don't really get it but I'm glad they're happy. I'm fully on team "Really Bad Boy", but apparently I like "Bad Boy" more than I thought I did. Also don't make fun of me for having "Why So Lonely" on here... yes I feel chronically empty inside and yes I need a passive-aggressive sadgirl anthem to help me through it and yes that hasn't changed in three years and probably never will! (lighthearted)

d. WHY WON'T SPOTIFY LET ME SORT THIS GODDAMN LIST BY ARTIST??!?!?!?!

e. Both songs from Sumni's Heart Burn single made it into my top 20!

f. UNNATURAL BY WJSN IS BACK FOR A SECOND YEAR AND SHE DESERVES IT SO SO MUCH

the day, in short

So I actually never fell asleep on Tuesday night, and I ended up giving up on trying to sleep around four a.m. and just heading to the gym when it opened at six! Then I had the glorious experience of age-regressing at the gym in the hell-hours of the morning: tottering around the track, watching the sunrise, and struggling to relearn how to put gloves on. Being a kid is tough, but it really did feel magical to enjoy the gym through a child's eyes, especially with the novelty of being there so early in the morning (we usually take our walks around the track right before dinner)!

After our first class, we got to take a nap! We always like falling asleep in the daytime so much better than falling asleep at night--the only issue is that people keep wanting us to do things during the day. sigh We ended up napping wayyyyy too long, though, oversleeping our alarm and missing a class (+ the start of our other class). This is what happens when we forget to take our sleeping pills--we don't sleep at all, and then, when we take one the next day, all the tiredness catches up to us. I'm pretty sad about missing those classes, since I was really excited for some of the stuff happening, but I'm glad I got such a nice nap--I'm struggling with emotion-management already, so trying to do so on even less sleep would probably have been even more hellish. My body knows what it needs; it really is looking out for me :)

And yes I know I'm switching between I & we here! That's a pretty common thing I do when talking about myself, so hopefully it's not too confusing! It just makes the most sense to me to use a mix of both, especially when I'm comfortable enough that I don't feel the need to mask! arm wave for emphasis

Quote of the Day

#tittyequality

-- not me this time, though this is probably something i would say (embarrassed)!

#six keeps on running

[howdon-aldi-death-queue]

NEW SAM FENDER INTERVIEW FOR NME

THE BIG READ

Sam Fender: “This album is probably the best thing I’ve done in my life”

The hometown hero has distanced himself from the ‘Geordie Springsteen’ tag, but there’s no shortage of rites-of-passage yarns and colossal tunes on the upcoming ‘Seventeen Going Under’

“You can see the ghost of Thatcherism over there…” says Sam Fender, pointing across the water to a vacant shipyard, where once the shipbuilding industry was so healthy that vessels towered higher than the rows of houses on the shore. We’re on the waterfront in North Shields, just outside Newcastle, and our photographer is snapping away for Sam’s first NME cover shoot.

The singer-songwriter stares stonily into the lens as wafts of seaweed and fishing trawlers are carried by the northern coastal breeze. He’s already been stopped for a few pictures with fans, but remains eager to point out the impact that Tory leadership has had on his working-class town over the last few decades. “It’s been closed since the ’80s, from the ghost wasteland of the shipyards. You’ve got all the scars of Thatcherism from The Tyne all over to the pit villages in Durham.”

It’s as good an introduction as any to the outspoken musician, whose 2019 debut album ‘Hypersonic Missiles’ was a record for his sleepy hometown to be proud of – tackling themes that range from male suicide (the heartbreaking ‘Dead Boys’) to world tensions (and the “kids in Gaza” he eulogised on its soaring title track). He set weighty topics against blisteringly well-executed Americana with the fist-in-the-air euphoria of Bruce Springsteen’s colossal choruses and sax solos. Much like his hero, Sam smartly weaves his own political standpoint and personal circumstance into gripping anthems of a generation, which earned him the ‘Geordie Springsteen’ tag.

“I can’t exactly bat off those comparisons, can I?” he says back in his cosy recording studio nearby. “At the same time, I don’t feel worthy of that tag. The first time I heard it, I was like, ‘That’s fucking sick’, but you don’t want to be riding off the coattails of The Boss for the rest of your life. I can write my own songs, they’re different and my voice doesn’t sound anything like Springsteen’s. I don’t have his growl; I’m a little fairy when I sing.”

He may have toned down the Springsteen vibes slightly on his highly anticipated second album ‘Seventeen Going Under’, due later this year, but there are still plenty of chest-pounding anthems capable of making your hairs stand on end: “I much prefer Americana to the music we have in our country at the moment. I love the leftfield indie stuff like Fontaines D.C, Squid and Black Midi, but I love a chorus and melodic songs. I think the American alternative scene has that down with Pinegrove, Big Thief, The War On Drugs.”

‘Hypersonic Missiles’ thrummed with a small town frustration almost that every suburban teenager could surely relate to. This was most notable on ‘Leave Fast’, where he sang about the “boarded up windows on the promenade / The shells of old nightclubs” and “intoxicated people battling on the regular in a lazy Low Lights bar”, a reference to his beloved local. But album two sees him fully embrace North Shields, an ever-present backdrop to cherished memories and harrowing life events of his youth and surroundings.

It’s no coincidence that the 27-year-old has turned inwards and penned a record about his hometown while being stuck at home like the rest of the country: “I didn’t have anything to point at and I didn’t want to talk about the pandemic because nobody wants that – I never want to hear about it again. It was such a stagnant time that I had to go inwards and find something, because I was so uninspired by the lifetime we we’re living in.

“I’ve made my coming-of-age record and that was important for me – as I get older, these stories keep appearing; I’ve got so much to talk about. I wrote about growing up here. It’s about mental health and how things that happen as a child impact your self-esteem in later life. On the first record, I was pointing at stuff angrily, but the further I’ve gotten into my 20s, the more I’ve realised how little I know about anything. When you hit 25, you’re like: ‘I’m fucking clueless! I know nothing about the world.’ It was a humbling experience, growing up.”

Early last year, before the pandemic hit, Sam was set to jet off to New York pre-pandemic to record in the city’s infamous Electric Lady studios founded by Jimi Hendrix. “Looking back, I’m thankful that it happened,” he says. “If I went off to New York and did my second album there… it wouldn’t have been the same record. I will go and do the third one in NYC, come hell or high water – I’m fucking out of here!

“The forced return home really informed the direction [of the record]. I was on the crest of this insane wave; we’d sold out 84,000 tickets for the [‘Hypersonic Missiles] arena tour that we still haven’t played yet. I’m still waiting to hear when it’s going to be rescheduled. It’s incredibly frustrating; I’ve got loads of frustrated fans. That was all cancelled on the day of the lockdown. I thought it was only going to be a couple of months and that it would be another swine flu thing, but fool me – I was stuck in the house like everybody else.”

It’s not the first setback that Sam has dealt with in his career. In the summer of 2019, he was ready to make his Glastonbury Festival debut with a Friday afternoon set on the legendary John Peel Stage, a rite of passage for any emerging artist, but had to pull out due to a serious health issue with his vocal chords. The mood in the room shifts dramatically at the mention of this devastating period: “I don’t want to focus on that, to be honest, because it’s just negative news and it’s in the past.”

“The further I’ve gotten into my 20s, the more I’ve realised how little I know”

Looking back now, he says, it was a tough decision, but ultimately the right thing to do: “We were doing so much at the time and I just burnt out. If you damage your vocal cords, you can’t take it lightly. If something happens like that and you keep going, you’ll fucking lose your career forever. I never want to end up behind the knife; I just refuse to put myself in that situation.”

The fact that his 2019 breakthrough ground to a halt again in COVID-decimated 2020 “was frustrating as fuck”, he says, “but I took solace in the fact that everyone was stopped in their tracks that time; it wasn’t just me.” This was in stark contrast to the singer’s experience of pulling the biggest moment of his music career in order to rest his vocal cords: “I didn’t talk for three weeks; I had to be silent and just watch Glastonbury on the TV, going, ‘This is completely dogshit’. But you can’t even say that out loud – you’re just saying it over in your head like a psycho. I’d take a pandemic over that any day.”

There was a brief flash of light when he headlined the opening night at the world’s first socially distanced arena, Newcastle’s Virgin Money Unity venue, to an audience of 2,500. Yet Sam’s not in the mood to wax lyrical about that, either. “It was amazing,” he says, “but it didn’t happen again.” A local lockdown in the North East brought the following shows – which would have featured Kaiser Chiefs and Declan McKenna – to a premature end in September: “It was another false start. We thought everything was going to get moving again but then we were just sat around [again].”

As for this reaction to the Government’s handling of the pandemic? It perhaps says it all that he’s selling face masks emblazoned with the words ‘2020 Shit Show’ and ‘Dystopian Nightmare Festival’ on his website. “I think everyone has said enough haven’t they?” Sam suggests. “I never want to see Boris Johnson’s or Matt Hancock’s face ever again. As soon as they come on the TV, I just turn it off.”

Political tension bubbles through ‘Seventeen Going Under’. Its second half boasts tracks such as ‘Long Way Off’, a brooding but colossal festival anthem brimming with angst and unease. “Standing on the side I never was the silent type,” Fender roars, “I heard a hundred million voices / sound the same both left and right / we’re still alone we are.” It’s gripping stuff; a Gallagher-level anthem ripe for pyro and pints held aloft.

Sam says the song is about feeling stranded amid political divisiveness here and in the US, epitomised when Donald Trump supporters stormed the Capitol in Washington back in January: “You’ve either got right-wing, racist idiots or you’ve got this elitist, upper-middle-class section of the left-wing, which completely alienates people like myself and people from my hometown.”

“The polarity between the left and the right has me feeling like I have no identity”

Closer to home, the last UK election, in 2019, saw the so-called ‘Red Wall’ crumble as working-class voters in the north defected from Labour to Tory. “The polarity between the left and the right has me feeling like I have no identity,” Sam says. “I’m obviously left-wing, but you lose hope don’t you? Left-wing politics has lost its main votership; it doesn’t look after working-class people the way that it used to. Blyth Valley voted Tory just north of here. Now, that is saying something! We’re in dire straits when a fucking shipbuilding town is voting for the Tories – it’s like foxes voting for the hunter.”

He’s even seen his own working-class friends peel to the blue side: “I’m like, ‘What the fuck is going on?’ I understand it, though. I’d never vote for the bastards because I fucking hate them and I know what they’re up to, but I get why people don’t feel any alliegiance to left-wing politics when they’re working-class.”

As ever though, Sam isn’t masquerading as an expert: “I’m not fucking Noam Chomsky, you know what I mean? I’m not going to dissect the whole political agenda of the Tories and figure it all out because I can’t. All I see is a big fucking shit sandwich – every day through my news feed – and it’s just, ‘Well: that’s what your dealing with.”

The singer is fond of describing North Shields as “a drinking town with a fishing problem”. Today he adds: “That’s been the backdrop of my life: all of these displaced working-class people. It’s a town that’s resilient that still has a strong sense of community. In a lot of big cities that’s dead. In London everything changes from postcode to postcode, but everything is quite uniform up here.”

When NME was awaiting Sam’s arrival outside the studio before the interview, a passerby clocked our photographer’s gear and asked, “Oh aye – are you waiting for Sam? We all know Sam – a good lad; very accommodating with nae airs or graces about him.” Another pointed to The Low Lights Tavern down the road, where Fender used to pull pints on the weekends: “He was a terrible barman, and he’ll be the first to tell you that. I think he got sacked about six times during his time there.”

Sam (who confesses of his bartending know-how: “He’s totally right!”) hit the local to celebrate when ‘Hypersonic Missiles’ won him a Critics’ Choice gong at the BRIT Awards in 2019, placing the trophy on the bar. “I owed The Low Lights one for being such a shit barman,” he says. “I wanted them to be proud of us because they fucking certainly wasn’t proud of us when I was around working there!”

“Celebrity stuff freaks me out. I’d rather just live my life”

He’s clearly a key member of the local community, then. How did he see the pandemic impact on his family and friends – especially when the North East faced the toughest Tier Four lockdown restrictions last December? Sam pauses before bluntly saying: “I lost more mates; there was suicides again. Mental health was the biggest thing. We lost friends who had drunk too much.”

A track on the new record, ‘The Dying Light‘, is an epic sequel to ‘Dead Boys’, with the poignant last line of the album ringing out “for all the ones who didn’t make the night”. Sam, unable to truly distance himself from The Boss after all, explains: “It’s very Springsteen. It’s my ‘Jungleland’ or ‘Thunder Road’ – it’s got that ‘Born To Run’ feel; there’s strings and brass [and] it’s fucking massive. It’s a celebration. It’s a triumph over adversity.”

He stresses that it was vital for him to be in regular contact with his friendship circle through that traumatic time: “It becomes important when you lose friends to suicide… You realise it’s always the unlikely folks. We lost a friend to suicide at the beginning of last year and it was someone you’d never expect. It really hits home; it’s important to check in on your mates.”

Sam has alluded in previous interviews to a health condition that he’s not yet ready to fully disclose, and tells NME that he spent three months shielding at the beginning of the pandemic: “I was alone for three months and that was very tough… When you’re completely alone and isolated, it’s impossible. I spent a lot of time drinking and not really looking after myself and eating shit food, but I wrote a lot of good lyrics.”

There’s a certain resulting bleakness to some of his new songs, but Sam also wanted light to shine through. “It’s a darker record, but it’s a celebration of surviving and coming out the other end,” he explains. “It’s upbeat but the lyrics can be quite honest. It’s the most honest thing I’ve done.”

You might expect a young hometown hero to rail at having been denied the chance to capitalise on his burgeoning fame in the last year or so, but Sam insists, “I still have imposter syndrome,” adding: “I don’t feel like it’s happened… I’m walking around the street and people ask for photos and it just feels bizarre. I’m like, really? I feel like I haven’t come out of my shell yet.”

Sam has rarely been one to court celebrity, and revealed in 2019 that he’d turned down the chance to appear in an Ariana Grande video. “It was an honour but I would have just been known as that guy in the video,” he tells NME. “All of my mates would have been flipping their heads off, but I don’t think she would really want an out-of-shape, pale Geordie. I’d rather just live my life, because all of this celebrity stuff freaks [me] out, you know?”

He might have to get used to it: things can only get bigger with the arrival of the new album. “As a record I think this one is leagues ahead [of ‘Hypersonic Missiles’],” he says, “I’m more proud of this than anything I’ve ever done. It’s probably the best thing I’ve done in my life. I just hope people love it as much as I do. With the first album, a lot of those songs were written when I was 19, so I was over half of it [by the time it was released]. Whereas this one is where I’m at now.”

“This is a dark record, but it’s a celebration of surviving and coming out the other end”

Still, he adds: “At the same time, this record is probably going to piss a lot of people off.” He’s referring to a line in one of the more political tracks, ‘Aye’, where he returns to his most enduring bugbear, divisiveness, and claims that “the woke kids are just dickheads”. Sam’s no less forthcoming in person: “They fucking are, though! Some 22-year-old kid from Goldsmiths University sitting on his fucking high horse arguing with some working-class person on some comments section calling them an ‘idiot’ and a ‘bigot’? Nobody engages each other in a normal discussion [online] without calling each other a ‘thick cunt’.”

He’s eager to make this statement, though, come what may: “I don’t fucking care any more. I’m not really sure how the reaction is going to be. People used to say things online about me and I used to get quite hurt about it, but now I’m like, ‘Well, they’re not coming to my house’… [But] I get so angry. In Newcastle we say ‘pet’ and someone was trying to tell me that was fucking offensive towards women. You’re not going to delete my fucking colloquial identity. It’s not even gender-specific; we say it to men and women. My Grandma calls me ‘pet’! That brand of liberalism is fucking destroying the country. We could be getting Boris Johnson and all them pricks out of office if we stopped sweating over shit like that”.

Sam might be outspoken, but he’s self-aware, too. When we were talking politics earlier, he said: “I didn’t want to start on ‘cancel culture’ because I don’t want to sound like Piers Morgan [and] I fucking hate that cunt. But there is a degree of it which lacks redemption; people fuck up. Everyone is a flawed character. If you’re not admitting that you have flaws, then you’re a fucking psychopath. The left-wing seem to be that way and the right-wing are fucking worse than they’ve ever been. Politically I have just lost my shit.”

In all of this uncertainty, though, it seems a sure thing that Sam Fender will take his rightful crown – as soon as the world lets him – with the colossal ‘Seventeen Going Under’. “It’s going to be a hell of a return,” he insists. “I know the fans are still there, you know? So I’m not really worried – I’m ready to go out there and do my thing. Finally!”

#sam fender #majestic interview #some important points were raised #loved when he said that he hates the 'celebrity façade of things' #long post

[jen-o-jam]

[10:27 pm]

Summary: you get put in detention with 4 very different guy. Breakfast Club Au!

Warning: suggestive tone, mentions of drugs

Recommend song: Dancing in the dark - Bruce Springsteen

“Do I really have to go? It won’t happen again. I wasn’t really involved, please, daddy” you whined, begging your dad to not actually drop you off for detention. Your heart sinking as he stayed silent, contemplating what you were saying, but it was no use.

“It’s only a few hours.” Is all he said as you grabbed your bag. Letting the heavy metal door of your dad’s Nissan 200x swing open. The wind rushing in to fill the now open gap. The air causing you to pull the white cotton knit closer to your body, shutting the door behind you. Jogging across the sidewalk to the entrance of the school. The familiar feeling of the cool metal only added to your disdain for the whole situation. It was as if it was begging you to turn around

"Just open it", a sleepy voice mumbled from behind you. in return you swung the door open, holding it for the rather tall but sweet looking male. You had only seen him around school, never actually talked to him. He was from a whole "different" world.

"I'm Renjun", he spoke again, waiting for you as you caught up to him. A sleepy smile rested on his face, sticking his hand out to shake yours.

"I'm Y/N, it is nice to meet you", you spoke back, almost faking a smile at the poor boy.

The two of you finding your way to the library where detention was held. 3 more faces meeting your own. promptly finding your seat next to Jeno who you knew the best out of the others. The vice principal following suit. Walking out of his fluorescent lit office into the open space.

“Mr. Haung- I don’t even know what to say..” he said with a sigh. The boy flenching at the words as the vice principal continued.

“Jaemin. Next time you drink make it less obvious.” He continued to ramble but it all sounded like background noise. His voice blending in with the buzzing of the florencent lights.

“Jaemin. Next time you drink make it less obvious.” He continued to ramble but it all sounded like background noise. His voice blending in with the buzzing of the florencent lights.

“Do you understand me?! No talking. No moving. No sleeping. Write me who you truly think you are. No less than a thousand words. I won’t tell you again” he continued once more, kicking Hyuck’s chair to make sure he was paying attention. Watching to see everyone nod before he left the library. Sitting in his office right outside.

“Come on, puff, puff, pass, daddy’s girl”

“Don’t call me that”, you bite back. Shooting a slight glare as you take a puff off the blunt. Hyuck only smirking as he watched.

“Fine, what would you prefer instead, babe. I can’t read your pretty little mind..”, his words hitting you just as hard as the slight burning feeling that came with the inhale. Embarrassingly choking on the smoke, quickly taking another puff before passing it off.

“Do- don’t call me that e-either! Y/n or nothing”, you said crossing your legs. Your eyes following the blunt for a moment before you felt him move closer.

“I think you just like hearing me say your name”, he whispered, his eyes trailing over your closed off frame.

“Lighten up, your stoned, not a murder. Don’t be so paranoid”, he chuckled, watching you jump at the slight sqeak of an office chair. Your eyes darting to the library door. Yet the principal never came in.

“See, that old bastard will never know. We won’t ruine you “perfect” reputation..”, he said teasingly, nudging your shoulder as you relaxed again. Only to tense up, nearly jumping into him as music cut on. The boys busting out into laughter as it was just Jeno messing around with the stereo in the “media center”. The static fading into a rather catchy guitar solo. Jeno immediately lighting up as he caught on to what song it was.

“I get up in the evening and I got nothing to say! I come home in the morning and go to bed feeling the same way!” He sang, starting to mock how Bruce Springsteen was dancing in the video. The boys joining in as the song started to pick up.

Laughing hysterically as Jeno made his way over to you, dragging you off the couch.

“Oh hey, baby, I could use a little help~ you can’t start a fire- you can’t start a fire without a spark. As guns were higher~” he sang, swinging your arms, pretending your right hand was a microphone. Surprised when you joined in his singing.

“Even if we’re just dancing in the dark!”

“There she goes! Y/n, wooo!!!” Jaemin playfully cheered and you nudged his shoulder, joining in on the very stiff dancing Bruce did. Hitting ever beat as you twirled around. Finding yourself using Hyuck as a microphone like Jeno had done to you. The boy laughing as you brushed over his knuckles.

The five of you scrambling to turn the music off and basically jump back into your seats as the vice principal tugged on the door. His eyebrows furrowing as he pulled a bit tighter.

“What on gods greens earth?! Someone better confess right now. Who thought it would be a good idea to take the screw out of the door!?” The vice principal rambled, holding the black metal up.

“Was it you? Get up! Right now, Mr. Lee”, his face going red as he motioned for Donghyuck to own up to it.

“Sir, wait. It wasn’t him”, you interjected. His eyes rolling slightly.

“It fell out while you were asleep, sir. You wouldn’t want us to tell everyone you were sleeping on the job now would you?”, Jeno added. A sly smirk forming on his lips as the vice principal rushed to try and find an answer.

“Forget it! Forget it! I don’t want to hear another peep out of any of you!” He said, giving up on ranting. There was no use, no one was paying him attention.

“I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.”

“You hate me? Is that right? You hate me...”, his fists clenched, relaxing for a split second as he grabbed your jaw, making you look at him.

“Say it a little louder, Princess. Tell everyone how much you hate me...” he growled, his minty breath gracing your lips as he watched your eyes soften. Renjun, Jaemin, and Jeno looking over with almost an unbelievable amount of shock.

“That’s what I thought.” He mumbled as he let go of your jaw.

“Hyuck, what the hell. Don’t touch her”, Jeno said getting off the floor, going over to the pair of you. You were all sat in a circle. Telling stories and going back and forth with truth or dare. Which you had embarrassingly admitted your crush on Steve Perry who was the Lead Singer of Journey and shown off how you can do most of your makeup without your hands.

“What are you gonna do about it? she’s fine. I didn’t hurt her” Hyuck said with a roll of his eyes, glancing over to see you hold where he had previously been.

“Jeno, I’m ok..” you said, shooting a smile at him. The tension in the room putting you rather off. Your face a slight red out of embarrassment. Quickly getting up to excuse yourself to the bathroom.

“Did I hurt you?” A deeper voice echoed and bounced around on the tile, scaring you a little bit.

“Oh, Uh- no. I was just caught off guard”, you said turning around with a wet paper towel pressed to your cheeks. His eyes running over you again, finding his way in front of you. His breath gracing your lips as he leaned in, examining your features. Slowly removing the wet cloth.

“You know you’re a horrible liar..” he mumbled back, pressing against you slightly. His thigh making you move back to rest on the sink more.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you. I- you- I’m sorry” he admitted, running his hand over your cheek. Letting his thumb graze your bottom lip.

“Don’t apologize, I’m ok..” you said, slowly slipping your hand under the zipper of his jacket, slowly but surly pushing it off.

“Not so fast”, he chuckled, stepping away from you. Grabbing your blouse that was hidden under the pull over. Tossing his flannel at you.

“You can’t walk out halfway undressed either, lover boy” you teased, chucking his bigger jacket at him as you adjusted his pants.

#nct blurbs #nct 127 #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 soft hours #nct 127 x reader #nct drabbles #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct au #breakfast club #lee donghyuck #haechan x you #haechan x reader #haechan drabbles #haechan au #80s au #nct dream fluff #nct dream drabbles #nct dream x reader #nct dream imagines #nct dream reactions #nct smut

[penguinwithitsarseonfire]

Your Hand Print's on my Soul

Part 1 | See the Full Series Here

Pairing: 13th Doctor x Reader

Word Count: 5,069

Warnings: None

Summary: After a terrifying adventure causes the Doctor to have a realisation about you, she seeks advice from some old friends. 

A/N: Fair warning, this will be a series, but each fic is a standalone. I’m using this to practise writing different characters and/or different writing styles, This fic features the Paternoster gang, because I love them!!

It hadn’t been a startling realisation, which was what had surprised her. Her realisations were often the cause of something dramatic. This one, however, didn’t involve an Earth shattering life or death situation, no one had held her by gun point until she’d had an awakening, and it hadn’t taken someone else pointing it out –  like an alien hell bent on taking some other culture over or the like.

No, it had been in a quiet moment. Just the two of you, lazing the day away.

You had been smiling, completely entranced in whatever you had been reading, sitting on the TARDIS steps whilst the Doctor had been tinkering. She had looked up for a moment, trying to remember which wire she was supposed to reconnect into the chameleon circuit, and there you were.

Under the glow of the TARDIS’ crystals, your skin warm and soft, your eyes sparkling, it had sort of… clicked.

The Doctor loved you.

She considered it for a moment, let the thought roll over in her head.

You had laughed at something in your book, and the Doctor realised she always wanted to hear it, that it was, quite possibly, just the very best sound in the world.

Yes, she loved you.

It made sense, really. It was surprising she hadn’t realised it earlier.

So she kept the thought with her, held it close to her hearts, and smiled at you softly. Before you could look up, before you could wonder why the clacketing and hissing from her tinkering had stopped, she turned away, resuming her work.

The life or death situation had caused the next realisation.

You had gotten separated from the group, and those awful, hideous (well, the Doctor assumed they were hideous, but she had admittedly never seen them) Vashta Nerada were back.

Her and the rest of the fam had found themselves back to the TARDIS, and the Doctor was about to manipulate where the light was falling over the park in a move that basically just involved popping the TARDIS in and out of time milliseconds apart.

But you weren’t there.

You weren’t there.

And so the Doctor had thrown herself into the TARDIS, furiously using every tool available to her to find some sort of evidence that you were alive – a bio print, a residual security scan, a photograph, anything.

And then you had stumbled out of a shadow, shaking, the person you had been with gone.

And the Doctor had realised then; she couldn’t lose you. Not ever.

Yaz had wrapped you into her arms and her and Ryan had ushered you into the TARDIS. The Doctor began her complicated flying manoeuvre, the day was saved, and Graham made tea.

And the Doctor realised; she had to make a plan.

The thing was though, she wasn’t really very good at this sort of stuff. Hell, she wasn’t any good at any sort of intimacy, platonic, romantic, or otherwise – as Graham could attest to.

Actually, y’know what, if Graham was to come to her today with some of those fears he’d had, The Doctor quietly reckoned she would’ve had a much better response.

That wasn’t what she was supposed to be thinking about, though.

But this was why she had found herself, parked over the Medusa Cascade, legs dangling out of the TARDIS door, cup of peppermint tea in hand, and just staring into space. Thinking about, well, thinking about you.

And what she ought to do.

“Hey,” you said, you voice only slightly louder than the low hum of the TARDIS’ engines. It was enough to pull the Doctor from her thoughts, as you so often did, even if you were the subject of her thoughts. “Are you alright?”

The Doctor nodded, turning slightly so she could look at you. You were wearing a plain green jumper and pyjama pants covered in question marks. The Doctor eyed the jumper curiously, it was setting off alarm bells in her mind, as if she was supposed to recognise it.

Then it hit her.

“Where’d you get those clothes?” She asked.

You looked down at your clothes and flushed. “Oh – um, the TARDIS. I’m pretty sure she gave them too me.”

Of course she did. The TARDIS knew the Doctor better than she knew herself.

She was surprised that the TARDIS had given you that particular jumper, and, if the Doctor concentrated, she could almost remember how it felt to wear; stumbling out of her – or well, his, TARDIS, fresh from the time war, itching to throw leather jacket on over it.

She liked it though; you wearing it. She wondered how you would look wearing something she wore today, like her suspenders or her scarf, or even her-

No. This wasn’t what she was supposed to be thinking about.

Still though, despite that, it suited you.

You nodded to the space beside the Doctor. “Do you mind if I join you?”

The Doctor blinked, turning her head to the empty space by her side, then back at you. “Yeah, of course. You’re always welcome.”

You gave her a warm smile. The Doctor focused on it, the way your eyes lit up, the way your nose creased ever so slightly, the way that utter kindness seemed to radiate off of you. She wanted to preserve it, capture that smile and hold it safe in her memory.

You toed off your slippers and joined her, leaning against the door when you had settled.

After you had all settled down after that awful, awful trip, Graham had asked to go home for the night. Ryan and Yaz had followed suit, and the Doctor didn’t blame them. After a day like today, she would to check in with her family too. It had been a frightening day, which the Doctor had apologised profusely for. Today had been worse than when they had run into the Death Eye Turtle Army – which was saying something.  

You had chosen to stay, citing that if you had left the Doctor alone, she would get into trouble, and she wasn’t allowed to get into trouble without one of the rest of you present.

It was a good rule. Clara had once had a similar one.

The Doctor sat there awkwardly, staring into her mug. She didn’t know what to say, how to comfort you, or what sort of words were the ones that you needed. She used to be so much better at this, and it was infuriating.

She took a sip, swallowing down her awkwardness, and turned to look back at you.

The stars seemed to reflect themselves in your eyes, bright and vibrant, as if they were reflecting your soul. You stared back at the Cascade in wonder. “It’s beautiful.”

The Doctor, who was memorising your face, the way the light hit your cheeks, the way it danced in your hair, hummed in agreement. Beautiful was certainly the right word for it.  

You turned up to look at her. “I can’t imagine what goes on in that great big brain of yours, but I’m here – if you need.”

The Doctor blinked again, and her mind whirring back to the very first thing you had said. Are you alright.

She stared at you dumbfounded. You weren’t even thinking about yourself, you were just worried about her.

The Doctor was acutely aware of how close you were in the narrow opening. If she leaned over just an inch or so, she could brush her shoulder against yours, feel the heat from your body.

She didn’t.

“It’s called the Medusa Cascade,” she said, turning away from you to look at the view. She gestured towards it. “It’s got around 15 broken moons –  some of them are just cracked, but others, like the 15th, are full on debris that float in orbit around each other. The eight is my favourite but humans can’t breathe on it. It’s also the halfway point of the universe from Earth, give it another couple of decades and you lot will be able to see it with telescope.  It’s even got-“

The Doctor paused for a moment. You had sighed quietly, staring downwards at your dangling legs. The Doctor swallowed, you were sad, of course you were sad, it had been a traumatic day. She tried to think of a way to fix it, to make it better.

“One time,” she continued, trying out for a story. A story would be good, she could totally tell a story, she was a great storyteller, she could keep Bruce Springsteen or Queen Alexia of Koros enthralled. The Doctor and storytelling? An excellent combination. “There were a whole bunch of planets that were taken here, and they were put out of temporal synchronisation with the rest of the universe by one second. It was actually a pretty intense feat of engineering, thinking on it now, but back then we had to-”

“You’re rambling,” you said, a small, sad smile on your face. “It’s okay Doctor, you don’t need to talk if you’re not comfortable. We can just sit here and watch the view.”

The Doctor clamped her mouth shut. She heard her teeth rattle inside her head, and wondered, belatedly, just how comical she looked, staring at this wonderful human with big eyes and a dumb expression.

She tried again.

“I’m probably down there right now,” she said, gesturing at a spot that held dancing green gas.

“Really?” You asked, your voice perking up. “But how can you be down there when you’re here? Wait, this is a time travel thing, isn’t it.”

The Doctor grinned, you had always been clever. “Yeah, younger versions of me are probably running around there right now, touring moons, sealing rifts in time, or trying out Rodravian ice-cream.”

“So you come here often?” You asked.

“Yeah,” The Doctor said. “This place here, it’s probably one of my favourites in the universe, well, after Earth of course – and Space Vegas, I’ve got to take you to Space Vegas-”

You laughed, soft and gentle, causing the Doctor to pause. Good. Laughter. That was important. Then, you looked at her more seriously. “So why here then? What makes it so special?”

The Doctor chewed on her lower lip for a second, staring back out onto the Medusa Cascade. She drummed her fingers against her mug of tea, which was still warm, and stared out at the plumes of coloured gasses that floated among the stars. After a moment, she said. “I… I guess it’s just a place that holds a lot of good memories.”

“With loved ones?” You prompted.

The Doctor looked at you, watched the way the light was reflected in your eyes, pools of colour shifting and whirring, as if it’s life came from you. “Yeah,” she said, and her voice cracked. “With loved ones.” She cleared her throat and turned away. “It’s a good place to think, too. I always come here to think, it’s quiet, it’s safe.”

Your voice was tentative, unsure, when you spoke again. It was as if you weren’t sure if you could, or rather, if you should ask. “What do you come here to think about?”

You.

The Doctor gulped back the rest of her peppermint tea in a single mouthful, set the mug aside. Then, she drummed her knuckles against her thighs. “Well,” she said. “I don’t know about you, but I’m quite tired, I think I might head off to bed.”

She didn’t look at you as she stood, she couldn’t look at you. If she did she would be met with your big sad eyes, your worried expression, facing the way you would chew your lip when you were nervous, something the Doctor didn’t think you even realised you did. No, she couldn’t face that, because if she did, she would never leave –  and she had to leave. She couldn’t have this conversation with you.

Not yet.

“Doctor-“ You tried, but the Doctor was already hurrying to the console. This was selfish of herself, cruel, even. She knew that. Of course she knew that. But she couldn’t handle this just yet. She needed a moment, she just needed to talk to someone about this, ramble on for a bit to slot all her thoughts into place.

She paused. Oh. Of course.

She turned to face you, looking at that spot between your eyebrows and above your nose so it looked like she was looking at you, but she wasn’t actually – because she couldn’t, wouldn’t, face your eyes. “I’ll take you somewhere tomorrow, somewhere really nice, and really calming – that is, if you’d like? Just the two of us.”

“Uh,” you said. “Yeah, that would be nice.”

“Brilliant,” the Doctor replied and she risked a glance into your eyes. She regretted it immediately. You looked so confused, so hurt. “Well then Y/N, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You’re off to bed?” You asked, as if not quite believing her.

“Yep,” The Doctor said.

“Doctor… before you go,” you chewed your lip for a moment, as if contemplating something heavy, and then, just as suddenly, you flung yourself into the Doctor’s frame, wrapping your arms around her.

The Doctor felt warm, she could feel one of your hands rest against the back of her neck, as if they had found the right spot to be in. The other was against the curve of her back, resting their gently, as if you thought the Doctor was going to pull away.

The Doctor raised her arms slowly, careful not to jostle you, and returned the gesture. It had been a long time since she had hugged someone, and she felt awkward, unpractised. At the same time though, it was wonderful. The weight of your body was flush against hers, as if holding her wasn’t quite enough for you. No, you were grounding the Doctor, holding her stable in way the Doctor had never felt before, not in this face, at least.

Then, all too soon, you pulled away. “I just wanted to say thanks, for today, for um… For not giving up on me.”

That baffled the Doctor. Thanking her? It was her fault you had almost-

“Yeah, um of course. Uh, bed, that’s where I’m going now.” She gave you an awkward wave, before shooting off from the TARDIS console.

The Doctor had lied.

The TARDIS groaned in disapproval as the Doctor scurried off to the library.

“Yes,” The Doctor hissed. “I know, I know that was awful of me.”

The TARDIS whirred again.

“And selfish,” The Doctor said. “You don’t need to just tack it on, I know.”

The worst thing about it was though; the books were no help at all. Granted, the TARDIS hadn’t made it easy, but, after scouring the library for any sources that could help her process this information and work out how to move forward – well, none of it fit.

She huffed, blowing a strand of her out of her face, and glared at the growing stack of books that hadn’t given her any ideas at all. No this wouldn’t do.

“Alright,” she said to the TARDIS. “I think I need better help. Any ideas?”

Which was how, that morning (well, relatively) she found herself knocking on an old wooden door, you standing by her side.

“So who’re we visiting again?” You asked, stifling a yawn. The Doctor ebbed away a pang of guilt, it was obvious you hadn’t slept well.

“Some old friends,” the Doctor said. “Haven’t seen them in a while. I don’t think they know about my face.”

You scrunched your face up. “What do you mean by that?”

Any response the Doctor could have given was stolen when the door flew open. The man narrowed his eyes at them. “You will state your name and the purpose of this visit.”

“It’s me,” she replied. “The Doctor.”

His eyes regarded her carefully. “Well,” he said, after a moment. “You never told us that you could regenerate into a man.”

The Doctor’s hands flew to her face. “Wait, no, everyone’s been saying-,” she frowned at him, and was somewhat embarrassed that it had taken so long for the cogs in her brain to slot into place. “I’m a woman, Strax.”

“Who is it?” Came a voice from inside, and the Doctor smiled.

“It’s the Doctor,” Strax said, opening the door wider now. “He says he’s a woman now.”

“She,” Jenny admonished, ushering Strax aside. “And what do you mean the Doctor’s a…” her voice trailed off as she caught sight of the Doctor. Her eyes widened, looking the Doctor up and down. Nervously, she swallowed. In a clipped voice she said. “Ah. Right. A woman, got it.”

The Doctor rocked backwards and forwards on the balls of her feet. “This is Y/N,” she nodded to you. “I thought you’d be a great tour guide.”

By the Doctor’s side you gave an awkward little wave. “Hi.”

“And it’s nice to see you too,” Jenny pursed her lips towards the Doctor, and regarded you with curious interest. “Well come on in then,” she said, stepping aside to allow both you and the Doctor to enter. “How long’s it been for you anyhow? Since you last saw us?”

“Aw,” the Doctor drew out the sound, giving her an awkward look. “A while.”

Jenny hummed. “Yeah, well, that doesn’t surprise me. When did all of this,” she gestured to the Doctor’s general space, then gestured for Strax to close the door. “Happen?”

The Doctor’s expression brightened. “Only a little bit ago!” She twirled around the foyer, arms out, her coat billowing slightly around her. She loved the way it swooshed. “What’d you think?”

Jenny’s voice was a little strained when she responded, and the Doctor could have sworn she had muttered ‘marriage’ under her breath. “It suits you.”

The Doctor clasped her hands together. “I was hoping to see-”

“She’s busy,” Jenny said suddenly. “Interrogating someone.”

You cocked your head to the side. “Who..?”

“Ma’am,” Jenny explained. “The Lady Vastra.”

You didn’t look as though that had cleared anything up, and stared at Jenny like a confused puppy, which was adorable-

And not what the Doctor should be focusing on.

“I’m happy to wait,” The Doctor said, tearing her eyes away from you and over to Jenny. “I know how she can get when she… interrogates someone.”

You shook your head in bafflement and spoke under your breath. “What..?”

“I was wondering though, if you could give Y/N here a tour of Victorian London-”

“It’s just London, for us, Doctor,” Jenny said with an amused smirk.

“Around just London, then,” The Doctor amended. “Around some of your favourite sights,” the Doctor turned to you. “The tea shops are fabulous, you’ll like those.”

You blinked rapidly, and turned to the Doctor. “Uh, can we talk?”

The Doctor nodded and you pulled her aside. You hand was warm, even through the fabric of the Doctor’s coat, and she didn’t want you to let go. You did. “Doctor, why are you sending me off with this woman experiencing unparalleled levels of gay panic and this small potato man?”

“Potato man?” The Doctor admonished. “Y/N, he has a name.”

In the distance, the Doctor heard Jenny whisper the words ‘gay panic’.

You shrugged slightly. “Well I haven’t been told it.”

The Doctor reeled, how had she forgotten to do that? She pointed to Strax. “This is Strax, he was a nurse in the Sontaron empire,” she leaned in close to you, as if she was sharing a secret. “Essentially just mass produced clones,” then, spoke louder. “But can find the cure to almost any illness” Strax stifled under your gaze.

“And this,” the Doctor pointed to Jenny, not registering Strax’s reaction at all. “Is Miss Jenny. If an army of angry mind possessed Victorians come after you, she’s the best person to have by your side.”

“Mrs,” Jenny corrected, then turned to you. “And it’s lovely to meet you. Any travelling companion of the Doctor’s is…” she pursed her lips again, looking at you like she couldn’t quite make you out. “…is a friend of ours.”

“Right,” you said.

“And we would be more than honoured to give you a tour of London,” Strax said, his voice growing an edge of reverence and excitement. “I will show you the most strategic points of warfare, so that I may crush you in the fields of battle for the glory of the Sontaron empire!”

You looked at him blankly, and Jenny turned to him suddenly. “You’ve not been eating my sweets again, have you?”

Strax paled. “What? I – no, of course I haven’t. You have done me the most grave disgrace by suggesting otherwise-”

“You have been eating my sweets,” Jenny narrowed her eyes at him. “You took all the sherbet fizzles again, didn’t you.”

Before Strax could reply, the click of heels against the hardwood floor echoed down the hallway. Vastra emerged, tugging at her veil slightly. The Doctor could see straight through it, she always could, after all, but she wondered if you could see it.

Judging by the way your mouth fell open in shock, the Doctor assumed you didn’t see the veil afterall, which was different. “She’s a-”

“Yes.” The Doctor said.

“In Victorian-”

“Yes.”

The Doctor watched you consider it for a moment, then your face brightened. “That’s so cool.”

Vastra blinked, and it was the only indication that she was surprised. The Doctor was glad she still remembered how to read her old friend. “Well, that is a pleasant, if unordinary, reaction,” she cleared her throat. “Jenny dear, would you please introduce our guests.”

“Oh ma’am,” Jenny said. “That’s-”

“Me,” the Doctor said with a knowing smile. “C’mon Vastra, you know me.”

Vastra eyed the Doctor curiously, and her eyes widened in surprise. “Well, if I did not know any better, I would say that you’re the Doctor. I don’t know another soul who would wear suspenders of that colour.”

The Doctor grinned. “It’s so good to see you.”

“And I you,” Vastra smiled brightly, and her entire face emulated warmth. “I must compliment you Doctor, you are looking far better than any of your last faces can compare.”

“Marriage,” Jenny hissed.

“Oh come now dear,” Vastra said, but her eyes were still on the Doctor. “It was only a compliment.”

Jenny muttered something about flirting with half the galaxy, but the Doctor wasn’t paying attention, because your eyes were sparkling, as though you had solved the Collatz Conjecture. “You’re married?” You breathed. “To each other?”

Vastra’s smiled softened to you, like she was amused. “That is how marriage works.”

“That’s amazing,” you said. “How was the ceremony?”

Both Jenny and Vastra looked towards one another in amusement, and spoke at the same time. “Violent.”

“Your interrogation is over now, right?” The Doctor said, because she was itching to talk to Vastra.

“Oh, you were doing the interrogation,” You said. “How was it?”

“A bit too fatty from what I would usually enjoy,” Vastra said, her eyes twinkling. “But filling none the less.”

You let out a soft little ‘oh’, as if hadn’t occurred to you that Vastra’s interrogation technique wasn’t exactly above board. Then the Doctor realised that it probably hadn’t.

“And I am more than happy to speak to you, Doctor,” Vastra said again. “You know my parlour is always available.”

The Doctor turned to you. “You wouldn’t mind spending time with Jenny and Strax for a bit, would you?”

“Uh – no, no, of course not. You do what you gotta do space woman.”

The Doctor grinned, squeezing your shoulder, and jogged off to catch up with Vastra, who had already left the room. She knew you would be safe in Jenny and Strax’s hands, they wouldn’t let anything hurt you.

The parlour was how it always was, two tall chairs surrounded in an assortment of plants. Tea had already been brewed, because Jenny was nothing if not efficient, and Vastra sat in her designated chair.

“Your companion saw straight through my veil,” she mused, gesturing to the tea and silently asking if the Doctor would like some.

The Doctor nodded, and Vastra began serving. “Yeah,” the Doctor said, bouncing over. “I’m pretty proud about that, I think we’ve just seen so much now that nothing could be fazing anymore.”

“Well I’m sure you are one of those more delightful sights, Doctor,” Vastra passed her a mug and the Doctor took a whiff. It was French Earl Grey.

Then the Doctor realised what Vastra was saying. “I think this is the moment where Jenny would scold you about flirting, again.”

“Perhaps,” Vastra said with a smirk, which told the Doctor that Vastra knew exactly that, and that she didn’t mind it either. “So, tell me what is so urgently important, that I finished my meal early.”

The Doctor drummed her fingers against the warm ceramic. "My - my travelling companion, no, my friend, I... I think I, no. I know I..." The Doctor cleared her throat. "It's love."

"You're in love with your travelling companion," Vastra surmised, not as a question, but as a fact. "Is this something your friend knows?”

"Y/N," The Doctor said, squirming under the way Vastra had said the word ‘friend,’ like it wasn’t true in the slightest, like she could already see you were something more. No, that was ridiculous, the Doctor was reading too much into it. "And no - I... I haven't been able to work out what to do."

"So you've come to me," Vastra said, an edge of humour in her voice.

"You're my friend."

"Ah, so it's a bit of girl talk you're after," Vastra mused. "I suppose I can indulge you," she said, and then, after a moment. "My friend."

“It didn’t hit me really dramatically or anything, but I just… We had a really awful day yesterday, with the Vashta Nerda, which was already awful enough, but then Y/N got separated and I…”

“I understand,” Vastra said, her voice soft. “Although, Doctor, if you’ll allow me to say, you've been in love with many people before, need I remind you that I have been friends with most of them."

"Yes but, I haven't.. I don't..." The Doctor groaned. "I've never been a woman before."



Vastra raised an eyebrow, and took a sip of her tea. "So that's what this is," she said after a moment. "You've come to me because I am a woman who has seduced another," she scoffed. "You might be better seeing the Madame Julie D'Aubigny."

The Doctor almost smirked. "You've heard of Julie?"

"Doctor, I am a lesbian lizard woman from the prehistoric period living in Victorian London," Vastra said, in the matter of fact tone she often only reserved for the humans she considered unintelligent. "I make it my business to know of humanities greatest women."

The Doctor had a sip of her tea and took in a heavy breath. She hadn’t said these things to anyone before. It was new, it was frightening. It was also so very, very important.

"You know how humans can be can just be so bright, like there’s just that little something that shines within them, and, when you’re around them, it’s like that brightness is shining on you?" The Doctor started.

Vastra hummed, her eyes going thoughtful, knowing. Of course she knew, Vastra was another person who had fallen in love with a human.

"Y/N is like that, but... but more,” The Doctor said, and even she could tell that her voice was just filled with so much feeling. “I don't even know how to describe it, it's just – oh and that smile? Sometimes I take Y/N places just to see that smile, it's everything. Y/N finds the beauty in the mundane, and just adores absolutely everything I show."


The Doctor sobered. "How do I... what do I even do with that?"



Vastra leaned forward for a moment. "Well, do you want to be with Y/N?"

The Doctor swallowed. Did she? Could she do that to you? Could she collapse her absolute everything into you? Would it even be fair?

She thought about the way you had hugged her, how safe the Doctor had felt, how secure she had been. Perhaps, just maybe, it would be alright, to let you in, to fall completely into you.

But it would be cruel, it would be so much, and she would never want to put that burden on your shoulders.

At last, the Doctor whispered, in a broken voice. "I don't know.”

"Well," Vastra said, having another sip of tea. "I suggest you determine the answer, because I cannot tell you what you don't know, that is not how matters of the heart operate - or in this case, hearts."

“How do I do that?”

Vastra regarded her. “Doctor, that is not something I can tell you. Only you know your hearts,” she paused.

The Doctor took a sip of her tea, it was fruity, with a floral aftertaste. It reminded her of bergamot. She took one more, then another, swallowing down her thoughts.

Only she knows her hearts? What did that even mean.

The Doctor perked her head up, the pieces falling into place.

“I’m a time traveller,” She breathed.

“You are, yes.” Vastra said, frowning slightly. “That is one of your defining traits, Doctor.”

“No, I mean, I could just see another face of mine, one that’s better with all of,” the Doctor gestured vaguely around her, the tea sloshing in it’s mug. “This.”

Vastra raised her eyebrows. “That wasn’t exactly what I meant, Doctor.”

But she didn’t get the chance to reply. The door to the parlour flung open, and in stormed Jenny, with half the skirt from her dress burned off. You were walking behind her, frazzled and dazed, your hair flying everywhere and ash littered over your shirt. The Doctor noticed you had even lost a shoe.

“My word,” Vastra gasped. “What on Earth has happened?”

Your wild eyes found the Doctor’s, and immediately, the Doctor knew that her own crisis could wait. Something more important was afoot.

Part of her was excited, she had missed going on adventures with the Paternoster gang.

Besides, she had to work out which version of herself to talk to next, and that would take time.

“Well then,” the Doctor said. “C’mon team,” she screwed up her face. “Hm, no, wait. Crew?” her face then brightened. “Victorian slumber party – yes. C’mon Victorian slumber party-”

Vastra rolled her eyes, but was giving the Doctor a small smile. “You are not calling us that.”

“-let’s get a shift on.”

A/N^2: This was a bit of an awkward place to end it, sorry about that. I wanted the focus to be on the relationship advice but it all kind of spun away from me. Also, you won't BELIEVE how hard it was writing this without writing pronouns for reader, so, I have a question: how would you feel if I wrote Y/P for "Your pronoun"? I'm anxious about the fact that it could pull people out of the fic, but also, I don't want to alienate people by writing in a pronoun. So, thoughts?

#the doctor x reader #thirteenth doctor imagine #13th doctor x reader #thirteenth doctor x reader #13th doctor #Doctor Who #DW #did I post a fic yesterday? yes #and now I've posted another? yes #even though I said I wouldn't be writing as much bc uni? also yes #look I've got the rest of today and tomorrow to finish it up I'll be fiiiiiiiiine #and by finish it up I rlly mean start #but it's fiiine #this is also another: no beta we typo like men one #bc I'm too tired to edit whoops #also: @ the folks who've been going through my masterlist #I see you and I appreciate you #I've gotten a spam of notifications from y'all and it's made my heart swell

[hotdamnhunnam]

Dream Baby Dream

A/N: So Charlie’s latest movie, Jungleland, is an ABSOLUTE MUST-SEE!! It’s so fucking lovely 🥺😭🥰  Whether you’ve seen it or not, I hope you’ll enjoy this little one shot, based on the below request that I got! It’s all kinds of angsty and smutty and fluffy. (Title is a reference to the Springsteen song played at the end of the movie!) **This fic is SPOILER-FREE**

Pairing: Stanley Kaminski x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, reader gets pregnant, gifs of Charlie in his underpants 😋 Request: This lovely request (p.2) for pregnancy/smut with Charlie’s character from Jungleland!

Word Count: ~3.1k

Important Note: The first line of this fic is a line Stanley says in the movie (scene shown in the gif above and in this gifset) – yes, loves, an actual quote. So if you’ve not yet seen this film but are a fan of Charlie Hunnam, I promise you this scene is reason enough, to watch if only just to hear those words from him... 🤤

***************

“I like the way they make my dick look.”

... Is he serious? Yes, definitely is. One drink was all it took, for you to know. He walks and talks like someone straight out of an old forgotten book or an obscure off-Broadway show. As if his whole life is imagined, yet for him the fiction feels so fucking real that it’s the only thing he’ll ever understand.

“I like the way they make my dick look”? What the fuck? You’d just paid him a half-joking compliment on his ridiculous sweatpants. But this is a man who takes jokes for the truths they expose. Mama always told you to avoid men like this—cons and crooks—men who crush their own hearts in their fists, steal their strength from the shadows, to run from their weakness. She knows best, and knows that you can’t. Knows that you turn to dust in their hands. But she’s not here to witness.

No, nobody is.

You take another shot, tossing away what little self-restraint you’ve got. “Dare you to tell me just how many times you’ve used that line.”

The fucker flashes you a smile. Cheeky smirk, the only kind that suits his style. Cheap as dirt. Just like his stupid ugly shirt. “Hey, if I had a dime...”

Rolling your eyes, you suck the sour from a slice of lime. Can’t seem to chase away your thirst. “How many times did that shit work?”

“Well, let’s just say you wouldn’t be the first...” he whispers, leaning close to take the lime in his own fingers, squeezing it without reason till every little pulp ruptures and bursts. “Wanna fuck you so hard it hurts.”

***************

Is it the best sex that you’ve had? Hell fucking no—not even close. It’s pretty bad. Probably the worst.

It’s almost gross. Feels like you’re stuck in a low-budget porno. Just a mess of theatrical thrusts. Heated groans, grating deep in his throat. Grabby hands. Somehow you know that he could fuck you so much better, though, if only he stopped trying to put on some kind of show. You doubt he even knows he can.

“Ugh, just—” you grit your teeth against each thrust. “What are you even doing, Stan...”

He groans out loud again. “Screwing you like a fucking man.”

That tasteless statement almost makes you want to laugh, but you bite back the urge. “No, that’s not how it works,” you mutter as his hips spastically jerk, massive dick splitting you in half. “You can’t—”

“Shut the fuck up,” he rasps, ravaging your ass with a rough series of slaps. Pulling your hair, making you arch your back, wrapping one hand around your neck until you choke. The sex is so damn close to being epic if this man would just stop acting like a joke. Like, really close, which honestly doesn’t seem fair. “You’re not supposed to talk when you’re taking my cock. Supposed to be too drunk to care.”

Oh God—he’s even dumber than you thought. He should’ve counted that you’d only had a couple shots. “Yeah, well, I’m not.”

“As fucking if,” he huffs, taking the hint that you’ve had quite enough. Reluctantly rolls off. Finally stops fucking you over. And that’s when you realize you miss it, although it feels strange to admit. He turns aside, tucking himself in tight under the covers like some kind of scorned lover. Spurned and burned so many times it makes him sick. “That’s bullshit and we both know it. Sober, a girl like you wouldn’t have touched me with a ten-foot stick.”

That gives you pause and breaks your heart a little bit. How is this man already getting at your heart, damn it? Mama would say he’s creeping in there with his crooked claws and all that shit. You can’t let yourself fall for his theatrics. Is that even what this is? Somehow, you sense the weight of more than just his body on the mattress; your heart feels heavy now, but not nearly as heavy as his.

“A girl like me? Seriously, what does that even mean?” you ask, reaching to run your hand across the faded scars and bruises on his back. Noticing how he flinches as if your soft touch is a savage attack. No doubt he wishes that you hadn’t seen. No wonder somebody so damaged really thought you wouldn’t touch him with a ten-foot stick. “Stanley, you are honest to God hot. And plus you’ve got an almost-ten-inch dick.”

He reacts with a snort, and a shake of his head. Scooting out of the bed, shrugging into his hideous shirt. All the scars on his back and his heart safely hidden inside it. “Doesn’t matter if it’s big. Apparently I can’t use it for shit.”

Without bothering to put pants back on, he settles on the couch across the room. You move to follow him, unable to resist when he looks so cute sitting there. Raking your fingers through his ruffled golden hair. “That’s not a problem we can’t fix—come back to bed with that big dick. You just have to get out of your head. Just a bit.”

That’s a notion he’s quick to dismiss, though you notice he’s no longer flinching away from your touch—which means something, you’d bet. It must. Nevertheless, Stanley snickers at what you said, struggling to keep his facade firmly set. “Out of my head? Bitch, I live in it.”

You don’t doubt it. Just want him to try stepping out of it. “Just for a minute.”

Lucid blue eyes look up at you now like you’re seeking to push him past some lifelong limit.

“Damn, what’s it like in there...?” you wonder aloud as you comb through his hair. He’s a poem, a portrait of someone who doesn’t believe he’s a man. Soul has never known any true home. Heart has been locked away for so long that he thought it could never be freed. Head full of dreams, broken and bursting at the seams. His silence fucking screams. “What do you really want, Stan? Really need?”

And you can tell he’s scared, to dare believe you really care. “...Nobody ever asked.”

There’s a whole world behind his words. Woefully true. Yet a whole other world now opens up before the two of you, with yours. “Well, then I’m glad to be the first.”

Of course you asked. Of fucking course. You barely even know him now, but can already tell somehow... you want to love this man so hard it hurts. Truly glad that you were the first. Already want to be the last.

***************

Fucking months have gone by in the blink of an eye. And already you love him so much you could die. 

He’s never fucked someone who ever gave a shit about him, so he gets a rush from knowing that you cannot live without him. And the feeling goes both ways, needless to say. He’s always looking at you like his first glimpse of the sacred light of day. And always seems afraid you’ll run away, no matter how wholeheartedly you reassure him that you’re here to stay. That he should never doubt it. 

Still he’s just crippled with this unshakeable fear of fucking up and everything falling to shit, just as it always did. Of losing love now that he’s finally fucking found it. Stanley’s past is a ripple effect of the failures and losses that constantly kept him desperate and dishonest, and it’s fucking haunted. Can’t help but dread the day it’ll rear its monstrous head and make him pay for ever dreaming he could have the kind of life he’s always wanted.

The most that you can do is hold him close and fuck the pain away, and love him more than words can say. His dreams are beautiful, you tell him. They deserve to see the light of day. With you he never has to act like he’s some character straight off the page; he doesn’t have to be afraid to feel. To fear that all the demons in his soul are real, and full of rage, and fierce enough to kill him. ‘Cause now you’re finally here to hold him and to heal him.

All of his dreams once revolved around his intense bond with his brother. For so long, his heart never had room for another. He tells you often about Walter. The fighter. ‘Lion’ as it were. The whole life that they lived for no one but each other, till one day the champion boxer abandoned his gloves to vow love at the altar.

And Stanley is happy, that Lion has found a new family. A new life as boundless and bright as the sky. Such love as an overbearing older brother could never provide. Though Stan knows that the door’s always open for him, to be part of that family and part of that life... he won’t take Lion up on the invite. Tells himself that the home that his brother has built is too precious for someone so poisoned to set foot inside.

You fuck the poison and the pain out of his veins a little bit more every night. But you know it’s a big fight; you won’t try to push it or rush it. Just guide him and stay beside him as the shadow slowly turns to light.

So what’s left to dream now? Somehow your lover tells you his deepest secrets and desires without ever breathing a damn word aloud. Like the fire’s so fragile a whisper could blow it right out.

Tells you and shows you through passionate, powerful kisses, devouring you with the heat of his mouth. Through the touch of his tough calloused hands on your skin, softly treasuring every last inch, devoting his whole broken heart to the moment in such breathless silence... then driving inside you with vigor and violence, the lion inside him awoken and roaring out loud. Slow and gentle again, at the end. Once you’re both well and truly fucked out. The soft look on his face and his tender embrace expressing just how grateful he is that you taught him to fuck, and to love, without playing pretend.

Is it the best sex of your life? Hell fucking yes. Without a doubt. Every damn day, every damn night. Far and away the fucking best. The kind of sex starry-eyed poets strive and fail to write about. 

Stanley Kaminski is a living, breathing, tragic, magic little poem. But he is also very real, thanks to the love that you’ve allowed his heart to feel. Beating so beautifully now that it’s finally healed. And he’s become your fucking home.

***************

“Babe, you up?”

You weren’t until he spoke. The sun is only barely just; as he so often does, Stan beat the day before it broke. But you don’t mind being awoken by the man you’ll always love. More so than ever now because... you have some news to share today, bound to blow him the fuck away. In the best way, you hope. And trust.

“Mm-hmm,” you hum, shifting in bed, lifting your head to see him seated by the window far across the room. Gaze lingering upon his gorgeous features gilded by the glow of dawn. “What’s wrong?”

Nothing at all, for once, he wordlessly responds. Smiles at you before he glances back outside, watching the sun begin to rise, as if its light promises everything he wants.

“Today’s gonna be good, baby,” he states, blue gaze so wild and bright he looks a little crazy. “I mean, I can see it. I can see our future when I close my eyes.”

It’s almost like he knows what’s coming, in the next moment. Maybe he does? Your souls are intertwined so close you wouldn’t really be surprised. “Well, looks to me like they’re wide open. Why you even gotta close ‘em?” you reply, stretching your arms out with a peaceful sigh. All set to break the news you would’ve shared with him last night, if only he hadn’t come home and fucked you so epically hard that you just went out like a light. “Stanley, I...”

“Shouldn’t have woken you up, actually,” he interrupts, somewhat unnaturally. Crosses the room toward the bed, to hold your head up, kiss you slow and deep. Then turns to leave. “Love you—sorry. Go back to sleep.”

You pause and blink your bleary eyes. “What? Why...?”

“...‘cause it’s a special day and I’m cooking up a surprise.”

Although that’s super cute... you don’t exactly like the thought of Stanley making food, to tell the truth. You almost puked, first time he tried. He has a lot of skills and virtues, but his cooking isn’t one of them, unfortunately. “Babe, I told you there’s no need to make a big deal of our second anniversary...”

“Yeah, but why’s that for you to decide?” he playfully retorts as he heads out the bedroom door. Shouting back at you down the hallway as he hastens away. “Besides, you’re gonna need something to build your strength up after getting fucked so good and hard last night. Stay put and don’t even try sneaking into the kitchen, alright?”

“Fine,” you sigh, figuring that you might as well listen. No harm letting your man do his thing in the kitchen. You just hope that he won’t be offended if you can’t hold down what he’s serving... especially now that your body’s especially prone to hurling, for reasons that he just unwittingly stopped you from sharing with him.

You can picture him trying to cook, looking so adorably domestic as fuck. So damn cute it hurts. Standing there over the counter in his fugly turtleneck shirt, glancing up every few seconds, just to make sure his girl doesn’t walk in on him while he’s busy at work.

Absentmindedly scratching at his lower back with his wandering fingers, as he shuffles over the cracked tile floor in his raggedy slippers. The ones that he stole from some random hotel years ago. Why he chooses to wear a long-sleeved shirt and slippers, when he can’t be bothered to put on a damn pair of knickers, even in the middle of winter... you don’t even know. It’s such a fucking Stanley thing to do, though.

You can picture the low-hanging hem of his shirt getting stuck in the top of his briefs as he scratches his back. While he just carries on with his business, oblivious, focused on whipping up some sad excuse for a breakfast that will most likely make you gag. Your man can’t cook for crap, and you’re certain that he’s well aware of that fact. So what gives? Where’s he going with this...? You wonder as you wait in bed, enamored with the image of him in your head.

GIFs by uuuhshiny

When he finally returns to the bedroom he’s holding a steaming white mug in his hand, biting his bottom lip to stop himself from grinning like a madman, for reasons that you can’t even begin to understand.

“Okay, listen, Y/N—before you say anything...”

You can already smell the unholy concoction he’s got in his cup, and you’re struggling so hard not to throw the fuck up. “Stan, is that what I think—”

“Hear me out,” he begs, squatting down next to the bed. For some reason he looks all at once shy and proud. “I want you to remember our first time together. The morning after.”

You nervously swallow and nod your head. He can’t really expect you to put that ‘breakfast’ in your mouth—doesn’t he know you’ll spit it right out? You just try to focus on the heartwarming words he just said. “Babe, you know I won’t ever forget. But is that...”

“Yes, it is. Kaminski’s specialty hot shit. The mess I used to make for Lion every day for breakfast. The only family that I ever had, until the day we met.”

You pause at that; is it just a coincidence now that he’s talking about you as family? Surely he knows somehow, what you’re about to tell him now. You want to just tell him already, so badly. “Stanley...”

“Just let me say this. Please,” he murmurs, shifting where he’s squatting on the floor, repositioning his knees. “Tonight I was thinking of taking you out to some nice swanky place I can’t even afford... would’ve tipped the waiter off to drop a little something in the fancy French champagne we ordered...”

Your heart stops as it hangs on his words. Why is he suddenly... down on one knee...

“But I thought maybe this would mean a little more,” he continues. “Baby, I cooked this for you, the first morning I ever woke to the most beautiful view... because a part of me already knew. I wanted you more than I’d ever wanted anything before. I was already fucking yours. I never would’ve made this crap for anyone but family—that shit’s sacred to me. And now I know, deep down, that’s what I always wanted you to be.”

“Stanley...”

“You had to dig through so much shit, inside of me, and stole my fucking heart right out of it. Still can’t believe you did. Still can’t believe you think I’m worth it. Scared I’ll wake up any second just to see that this was all some crazy dream.”

Your heart is bursting at the seams. “Believe it, baby. You’re worth everything to me. I’ll dig through all that shit again, if it means being with you in the end.”

He holds the cup out toward you like the treasure that it is. “That’s what it means. That’s what I’m asking you with this. Dig, baby, dig.”

You love this man so much more than you can believe. So much for him thinking that you would never touch him with a ten-foot stick. 

Your hand dives straight into the mess to find the ring and scream out yes. Stan smiles and wipes the excess stuff off on his sleeve, then slides it carefully onto your finger as you shower him with kisses. Honestly couldn’t be happier right now that someone else is here to witness.

And he needs to know it, right this fucking minute.

After he takes your newly bejeweled hand in his, blessing it with a kiss... you take his hand in yours and press it onto the surprise that you’ve been harboring inside. Your secret little Stanley. “So... you know I had something to tell you as well, right? I’m not the only one who’s so happy about this. Happy to be part of your family.”

His eyes go wide, the brightest light you’ve ever seen. “Y/N...! Y/N, does—does this mean...”

You answer with a smile as big as his, and seal the promise with a kiss. “Dream, baby, dream.”

***************

Hope you enjoyed this!! Would love to hear if you did! 🤗💖

Masterlist

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#charlie hunnam #stanley kaminski #stan kaminski #jungleland #charlie hunnam smut #charlie hunnam imagine #charlie hunnam fanfiction #charlie hunnam fic #charlie hunnam x reader #charlie hunnam x you #jungleland imagine #jungleland fanfiction #stanley kaminski x reader #stanley kaminski x you #stan kaminski x reader #stan kaminski x you

[natromanxoff]

Queen live at Hammersmith Odeon in London, UK - December 26, 1979

(x)

Queen performed as part of the Concerts For The People Of Kampuchea [Cambodia], which were performed over a few days at the Hammersmith Odeon in London. Other performers included The Who (who played for three hours), Wings, The Pretenders, Elvis Costello & The Attractions, The Clash, and the members of Led Zeppelin (minus Jimmy Page). A 2-LP set was released in 1981, including Now I'm Here from Queen's set. Freddie's vocal range is still top notch on this last show of the tour, although he doesn't always hit the high notes cleanly as he did earlier in the month. Still, these versions of Somebody To Love and We Are The Champions are dripping with passion from him and are among the best ever performed. After Somebody To Love, Freddie pours some water on the front rows. "I'll keep the lager for myself," he says, as he grabs a beer. He continues, "Now listen, I know it feels like a Cecil B. DeMille production of the Ten Commandments here tonight but don’t worry about the cameramen. They're getting paid. Right now we’d like to do a song... my god it’s quiet in here." It suddenly isn't quiet after he makes that comment. "It's always like this at Hammersmith. I don't know why. Are you supposed to be a sophisticated crowd? I suppose you are." He then introduces If You Can't Beat Them, and what follows is a great final performance of the Jazz album rocker. Soon thereafter, Brian plays the trills near the end of Mustapha beautifully. During the middle section of Get Down Make Love, Freddie passes down the mic to an audience member, who then sings part of the "La la" part of The Prophet's Song. The mic is then immediately taken away! Before Love Of My Life, Brian gives the audience a brief background on the purpose of the concert, and adds: "The reason for all these cameras is that it's proposed to make a composite show of us and the other people who have performed this week, and to sell that to make some more money for those people as well. So we hope it goes well." A few audience members boo at the thought of other artists being on the film, and one of them shouts, "Just you!" After the song, Brian says, "Hammersmith sings; very nice." He continues, "we're gonna have a little bit of fun with this one. We usually do this one. It doesn't sound quite it does on the record, I don't think. But this is called '39. Sing along." In his solo spot, Brian plays a few chords that loosely resemble In The Space Capsule which would appear on the Flash Gordon soundtrack the following year. He then plays a specially rehearsed version of Silent Night, a gesture much appreciated by the audience. At many shows on this tour, the audience (led by those "Royal Family" fans) would continue singing Crazy Little Thing Called Love after the band finished the song. The band even joins in tonight. Here is a review of the show:

Here's an article (1, 2) with a few pictures from this show (although some are from other shows).

Pics 1 to 6 were taken by Dave King and submitted by Mark Alexander (and later colour corrected by Nino Trovato). The last picture was taken by Gillian Parry (her picture was snapped at almost the exact moment as pic 5).

...

According to an article in the June 1989 issue of Record Collector, the entire concert was shown at a "recent fan club convention," and it even mentions Keep Yourself Alive and Brian's solo specifically. It continues, "If Queen ever follow Bruce Springsteen in issuing a live boxed set of albums, then this show must form part of it." Over twenty years later, Queen fans are still waiting for a release that is truly representative of the band at this very vital point in their career. This concert features the final performances of If You Can't Beat Them, Don't Stop Me Now, and Spread Your Wings. '39 would be dropped from the setlist for good as well, but it would be performed (in part) once more in 1984. Brian would sporadically play the main guitar theme a couple times as well (1, 2). Within a few days the 70s would come to an end, and Queen would never again be the same. The success of The Game in North America would shift their gears as a band, in concert and otherwise.

Fan Stories

“If I'd have known how special and legendary this gig was to become, I would have taken notes at the time - fortunately this concert was filmed - I've seen two clips of it recently to my absolute delight: this was an incendiary show. I remember seeing it afterwards on TV, severely edited down for TV consumption with all the voiceovers by Peter Ustinov... The footage is great but to be there was simply amazing and I know in my life I will never see another show like this one. I don't remember anything about getting there but I remember where I sat at Hammersmith, towards the back and to one side, around row S. I'd already seen them at Brighton and marvelled at the latest rig, the Pizza Oven... and then I went with a friend to the Rainbow to see them where we practically hung off the balcony singing - another great gig, where I believe they drilled a hole in the roof(?) for the lighting rig or maybe my memory is failing around this point... Now if I could have gone to another gig on this tour I think it would have been to Purley Tiffany's, which was really tiny and reports were afterwards that they nearly bought the ceiling down, the noise comparable to a jumbo jet taking off - which is so wonderfully rock & roll... and of course, so them! But I digress... this night was also extremely loud, punishingly loud in fact. Yes I remember Brian's 'Three Blind Mice' solo very well - a quiet bit - but then it got bloody loud, the 3-part digital delays reverberating from the stage monitors to behind me at the back and across to the other side of the venue at the back, then back to the stage, round and round. I remember that vividly. Another memory from this night: Fred's fight with the monitors during Sheer Heart Attack... the monitors lost. Another great rock & roll moment - possibly the most potent I've ever witnessed - a moment of sheer exhilarating wildness, in a tremendous show. I know I thought, "what the hell's he doing" whilst really laughing and thinking, yeah, I know, because I feel exactly the same - I can't explain it very well to you who are reading this, just to say it again: it was an intense, incendiary night. A third and last fragment of memory - Fred arrived on the shoulders of Superman for the second encore, We Will Rock You, which was great fun... After depositing Fred, he ran off the stage in a suitably manfully Superman fashion, which I can still see now. Well, there you are - I'm sorry I don't remember anymore but you got the bits that are indelibly burned into my memory for all time... “ - Jane

#queen #queen band #roger taylor #freddie mercury #brian may #john deacon #queen concerts

[gayenerd]

This 2009 interview with Billie is from something called Urban Male Magazine (lol) which is apparently a defunct “men’s interest” magazine in Canada.

In this interview Billie Joe Armstrong talks about his new album ‘21st Century Breakdown’, about the band and his family; how his boys keep him young, and how he’s living his dream.

Here, in the middle of a dilapidated looking industrial zone, only separated from San Francisco by the Bay Bridge, singer/guitarist Billie Joe Armstrong, bassist Mike Dirnt and drummer Tré Cool have established their headquarters, composed of countless rooms for living, working and playing, protected by an automatic gate and barbed wire.  As we enter the 37 year-old Billie Joe's room to talk to him about the new album '21st Century Breakdown', he is sitting at the piano, now black haired following a brief blonde phase, playing 'Last Night on Earth', one of the new songs.

Billie Joe, we have never heard you so romantic. In this piece you sing “You are the moonlight of my life”, and “I'm sending all my love to you”. How touched is your wife Adrienne in light of this declaration of love?

Billie Joe Armstrong: She should be moved by this song, which she is.

Who do you spend more time with? With your wife or the band?

BJA: With my wife. Without a doubt. I mean, I sleep with her. I don't sleep with Tré and Mike.

You have been together for over 15 years.

BJA: A hell of a long time, I know. Adrienne is my closest ally. She is also a very good barometer in respect of my songs. She has a different kind of distance, a different way of approaching our music. She is always pretty objective and honest about what she thinks of our songs.

Your sons Joseph and Jacob are 14 and 10. How do the two of them sharpen your understanding for youth culture?

BJA: At the moment I find it incredibly exciting how my oldest son is negotiating his way through puberty. I think that being a young person today is more stressful and complicated than it was in my day twenty years ago. The Internet has won so much control over the way kids live their lives, it's almost frightening.

You yourself were quite a tear away, a head through the wall type, am I right?

BJA: Right. But my boys are not like that, they are somehow…brighter and more hard-boiled than I was at their age. Their world is significantly larger than my world was back then.

You look 15 years younger than you are. How do you do that?

BJA: When we aren't touring I go to bed at the same time as my sons. Rarely later than midnight.

People, and presumably your children too, now prefer to download their music from the Youtubes and Itunes of this world. And now you come along and release '21st Century Breakdown', a monumental, approximately 70 minute long concept album consisting of 18 songs and encompassing every imaginable style of music. Have you lost your mind?

BJA: I write songs as if my life depended on it. The last album 'American Idiot' provided us with an opportunity, the opportunity to record another really powerful and ambitious album. We didn't want to miss the chance this time around. We had to overcome our uncertainties and really pull out all the stops to complete this album. But that was what motivated us. We weren't interested in shying away from success again, as we did with our albums at the end of the nineties. Now I can understand it when people say that we started pulling our punches after 'Dookie' (the 1994 breakthrough album with 'Basket Case'). We are proud of what we have made out of Green Day.

In 'Horseshoes and Handgrenades', you sing “I am gonna drink, fight, f**k and push my luck”. As one of the biggest rock stars on the planet, do you still have time to rip it up?

BJA: One should always make time for a bit of excess. However, I have become more cautious. A sense of responsibility towards myself and my family.

When was the last time you were drunk?

BJA: The day before yesterday (laughs).

It has taken you three years to write this album and record it with the help of the Nirvana and Garbage producer Butch Vig. Was completing the follow-up to 'American Idiot' something of a Herculean task?

BJA: Yes, it was. '21st Century Breakdown' demanded much more from us, was far harder to realise than 'American Idiot'. Originally we had the idea of shooting an animated film with us as the main figures, and then write the soundtrack to it.  In the end we didn't do this. Instead, we set off to climb new creative heights and to write the best fucking songs we could.

The songs have turned out very musical and melodic. Much of it is reminiscent of Bruce Springsteen, the Beatles, and even Meat Loaf.

BJA: We acknowledge all our influences and really enjoy painting with a broad palette of colours. John Lennon, Bob Marley, U2, The Clash and many more. Songs are the result of patience and concentration. You never know when a song will gently tap you on the shoulder or hit you on the back of the head with a lump of wood. I get my ideas for songs everywhere - when playing the guitar, in the shower, on the toilet or when going for a walk.

The central line in the title song '21st Century breakdown', says: “My generation is zero. I never made it as a working class hero”. Isn't that a damned pessimistic view on life?

BJA: You should view it a little more discriminatingly. The song is about the American Dream, which says that you can make it if you really want to, if you push yourself. Society is increasingly trivializing this dream of our forefathers. Today it is only about winning the next Lotto jackpot and becoming stinking rich. That is not enough for me. What I miss is people striving to be better, to perfect themselves, this sense of hunger.

Have you realised your dream then?

BJA: One hundred percent. I am the happiest boy in the world. I love my band and my work. If there wasn't Green Day, then I would be washing plates.

Is society, especially in light of the current economic downturn, too materialistic?

BJA: No, I don't think it is. I don't have anything against prosperity. This pursuit of money regularly lands our country in trouble. But it also helps us to pull ourselves out of trouble again. America is very inventive when it comes to generating wealth. However prosperity should only be one aspect, a society built exclusively on money will break down. But I'm not pessimistic. We now have our first Afro-American president, which is a tremendous thing. And in the long run this means that the voice and the desires of the people will not be ignored.

What will Obama achieve? Save the world?

BJA: He won't save the world, especially not on his own. But this is the best thing that has happened to America in a very long time. There is a new crisis every week, a new catastrophe. However at the end of the day the central statement of the album is: There is light at the end of the tunnel.

Is Billie Joe Armstrong in 2009, what Bruce Springsteen was in the 80's or Bob Dylan in the 60's?

BJA: I can't deal with that. I don't want to be the voice of a generation. I wouldn't feel comfortable with a label like that. I want to speak for myself. However, if people discover something in my songs for themselves, then I have succeeded in what I set out to do.

Are you secretly thankful to George W. Bush? Ultimately he inspired 'American Idiot' and played a considerable role in its success?

BJA: That may be true, but no! Not at all. Thank Bush? That would be really beneath me.

#article #articles #interview #billie joe armstrong #green day

[werezmastarbucks]

more like honeymoon [2]

previous part

word count: 3769

warnings: loving couple throws fists

music: in the text

LOS ANGELES by blink-182 segment

You had a dream that the prison world was being destroyed. The fearful suspicion was on the back of your mind at all times, but you didn’t know how to express it. Kai always said you were the more paranoid one. All the bad outcomes, you always considered them. You argued that this kind of pessimistic outlook saved your live even when you didn’t know it did. Well, look where you are now, he would reply. Not that it’s bad, so I don’t know what I’m trying to prove here. He just liked to argue.

The white light together with earthquake came, and the ground crumbled beneath your feet. Kai was somewhere away, you could only see his silhouette as he stood on a hill or something. You were now staying in Los Angeles. The end came while you were running to him, the whiteness becoming your least favorite color. Your heart was tearing apart because you were so tired of something constantly trying to stop you from being together.

You woke up in your happy crowdless realm, the queen of enclosed nothingness, and felt like you wanted to go home for the first time. Just because this dimension was more fragile.

Kai was sleeping next to you, his nose deep in the pillow, and you had no idea which part of him was responsible for breathing. Like in a trance, you crawled out of bed and left through the balcony doors to look down on the city lit by nobody, to make sure the world was intact. It didn’t, and wouldn’t, go anywhere. You got used to being here alone and having it all, so quickly, a part of you couldn’t imagine sharing this planet, and Kai, with anybody.

When you returned to bed, Kai was lying on his back and staring at the ceiling. His hand took your chin and turned your head to him.

“Where were you?”

“I had a bad dream”.

Kai was a pro in bad dreams. He had a black belt in going back to hell through his dreams. Agonizing, long, realistic nightmares plagued his head no matter how deep he shoved it under the blankets. He looked a little strict for someone who consoles another after a bad dream. You had your suspicions he had other things on his mind. Sometimes you would catch him observe you as if he was expecting you to run away.

LA1 by Moby segment

You were finishing the book. This was the book you’ve been meaning to read ever since you were fourteen. When everybody nailed it at school, you were busy with other more interesting stuff, and so, you never ended up reading it. Now was the epitome of everybody’s ‘one day’. People leave interesting tv shows, tedious chores, the best packs of cookies and postponed hobbies for that cryptic ‘one day’ but it never comes. Not for most people at least. Now, you two, more so you than Kai, finally faced this neverending time period to do everything procrastination took away from you. You finally were finishing that damn book.

As you laid there at the pool of your new house, and the sun was sending blinding specks jumping off the water, Kai was drawing complicated shapes on the side of your leg and looking down the valley of Los Angeles, the city where he was king. Just like everywhere else.

“I think I have memorized every inch of you by now”, he said.

You swallowed down a sigh, because you were about fourteen pages away from the end. You knew when Kai started talking, there would be nothing else but talking for at least fifty minutes.

“Good, now, if I get into a horrible car crash and get terribly disfigured you will recognize my body one way or another”, you replied, trying to at least finish the page. Kai’s hand laid on the paper, pulling it away.

“Once we get out”, you smiled.

“If we get out”, he corrected you.

You let go of the book he was pulling away. He didn’t like sharing you.

“You think... we’ll be here long?”

“The spell is all we have, and it’s useless”, he shrugged like he didn’t care. “There’s nothing else. The ascendant is out there, and we don’t have a Bennet here to cut her...”

“Do these things have expiration date?” you asked, worried, “is it possible that one day, this prison will collapse and disappear?”

He looked at you, his hand caressing your knee absently.

“No, I don’t think so. It’s awesome here though, isn’t it? You like it, right?”

“Of course I do”, you nodded, without giving it too much thought. You looked down to the city where Kai’s gaze has been wandering earlier. “I’m still waiting for the horror to kick in, but it doesn’t. Either I’m too jaded to care, or...”

You bit your lip hard, thinking, whether you’re willing to spoil him. Parker’s palm squeezed your skin lightly. His hands were always warm, and he never refused to tickle you. He was a perfect guy to live with in a prison world: impossible to exhaust, handsy and resourceful. He could stay in one place for weeks, or drive through several states in one day. He knew every part of this magical planet and never felt lost anymore. It was bittersweet how this luxury of traveling without any discomfort came after eighteen years of him agonizing here alone.

He looked good with the hills of Los Angeles on the background, serving as colorful addition to him. His dark hair, and gun-like eyes, his demeanor of rich cynical kid who’s going to do you on the kitchen counter and never call again - only, Kai was following you everywhere.

“Or?” he took you out of your pondering. He didn’t like that either, when you drifted off in the middle of conversation. What are you thinking about? Who are you thinking about, Y/N? His tone of voice always said, I took you as far as an enchanted prison world so that you can’t see other guys, and you still have your head in the clouds.

“The feeling of having everything you need in your arms is intoxicating”, you sighed. The fundemental sensation of being completely satisfied with your life, while being in a literal prison world, came from the realization. Kai Parker was the final point of whatever path you’ve been striding. You weren’t one for professing your love passionately, or expressing it many times. But this one time you felt like you needed to get it off your chest.

“You ever had that?”

He blinked.

“Do you want to stay here, or do you want to move on? You wanted to see Fontana, right?” he asked, a bit lost, and he sounded like his mouth was dry. You took your book back from him.

“Pomona first”.

That night there was vivid change in Kai; instead of pounding you into the bed, like he usually did, as you both enjoyed it, he laid low, pressing you into the matrass with all his body. You felt almost like suffocating on the long, stretching feeling he was drilling into you with passionate, deep movements. For the first time you felt what it was like when you’re trying to jump out of your own skin with pleasure, after all the crying and moaning is just not enough.

“Wait for me, baby”, he was whispering, as you two moved together, hips to hips, shoulders to shoulders, and you thought your eyes will pop out, that maybe your nails are already halfway inside his shoulder blades. Kai was changing; he has been for some time now. He was becoming calmer and happier, and now, as he was making you come and told you to hold on at the same time, for a second there you could see him, shed of all his layers. The Kai Parker he would’ve been many years before, many tortures and catastrophes, and murders ago. The magic, devilish temptation, malevolence, misery and memories aside, there he finally was, a person who was begging you not to come without him, because even that, he didn’t want to do alone. As you clutched the hair on the back of his head, soft, just slightly curly, you felt your body fill with love, that kind that never really lets go of you. Because you finally saw the last manifestation of him, the last entity that lived in him, and it needed you, and loved you.

Kai, too, was making love as opposed to your usual experimental mutual fucking. Both types brought you joy; after he collapsed on the pillow next to you, you knew he would never be the old Kai. You could feel it in your guts.

I’M ON FIRE by Bruce Springsteen segment

“I could take you literally anywhere, and you still choose America”.

You dragged your now big bag on the glistening asphalt, sweating in heat, and gave up, motioning towards it.

“Technically, Hawaii...”

“Technically, Hawaii is America”, he nodded, picking up your bag, “but I hear you”.

“The Pacific, Kai”.

“You know what I did when I was here?” he asked, for the thousandth time in nine months.

“Climbed the Everest”, you chanted, rolling your eyes.

“Climbed the Everest”, he noted proudly. It took about a week? for you to convince him you weren’t interested in dying forty-five times before you finally reach the top of the mountain. He clicked his tongue finally, saying there’s no adventure to you. That’s how you ended up jumping off the Grand Canyon. Dares always led you to some drastic decisions you later regretted.

You settled on the famous North Shore, where the ocean was blue and green, and the palm trees swayed every day... all the day. At three oh seven, it rained for eleven minutes, and then, a majestic double rainbow stood above Oahu. The evening was so beautiful you felt you wouldn’t get tired of it in a hundred years. It’s really hard to get tired of hawaiian sunsets. Everything was perfect.

Until your phone rang.

When you were clutching on Kai, your belly bag was on you, together with all essential things in the world of the twenty-first century. You had your phone in there, the charger in case of anything, car keys, wallet, pack of plasters and some gum. It all traveled with you into the world of ‘94, and that’s how you listened to music from the future in the world of the past. The charger was especially useful, because you could keep your phone turned on and took pictures. Literally everything you did resembled a young couple’s honeymoon. You were forced to delete everything from your phone though, so that it could contain all the photos from different places. You even joked that, once you run out of space completely, it’ll be time to go home.

Another once we get out moment.

Now, your phone, that survived here for nine months because you were charging it regularly, rang, and you didn’t even pay attention at first. It hasn’t rung before. This thing is not supposed to ring, it’s supposed to play music and take pictures of Kai as he is being adorable, sleeping in his king-sized bed, his head buried in the pillow.

You stood like a dummy in the middle of the parking lot, waiting for him to bring the bags to the car. And the phone was ringing.

What is this noise? you thought. Then your hand slipped into your pocket, and your heart got confused as to whether to sink or to leap. Your brain got squeezed inside your skull. Rage, and relief, and worry filled you. You knew so many things at the same time. Suddenly you knew you missed home like crazy. You missed leaving the house and seeing dumb people around. You missed not being a spoiled brat living in the houses that didn’t belong to you. Missed the traffic on the streets, and you missed animals and birds. In this world, there weren’t so much as spiders, crawling around and creeping you out. Not a mosquito, not a lousy worm. No sharks in the ocean, no swallows in the skies.

Also, you knew you’d kick Damon’s ass so hard he’s going to choke on his own kidneys. You recalled the moment you threw yourself in front of Kai, so full of yourself, and announced,

you wanna send him away again, you gotta send me with him

and Damon looked at you with his ever exhausted silver eyes of a jaded cat, and said,

okay.

And sent you, the person he used to call a friend, into the prison world.

Also, you knew, somehow, that Kai will be unhappy about this. Many times that he asked you ‘you like it here, right?’ you felt he was now clinging on the very place he used to be horrified of. It was way more than your own ego, so you barely thought that it was you that changed his perception. You were secretly scared his mind will start telling him this condition of things is normal. That only two people in the world is normal. And he won’t want to leave once the chance comes. That all his once we get outs is just him playing along with you, while he knows, in the back of his mind, that you’re never getting out, and he doesn’t care if it drives you crazy.

You answered the phone and didn’t say anything. Damon was silent, too, for a second.

“Well”, he said finally, “how you lovin’ it?”

You found his cockiness inappropriate. Not like he has locked you in a closet with a bully and came round in fourteen minutes to check on you.

“What is it? Are you here?” you asked, you throat dry.

Kai left the supermarket and was about a hundred steps away. It was going to rain in half an hour.

“Yes, we decided to pick you up, so to say”, he replied shortly.

“You decided I have learnt my lesson? Decided I was now good to go home, that’s what you decided?” you asked, your voice bubbling inside your throat like a pillar of boiling air.

“Give it to me...” Elena’s voice was closing, and your lungs trembled. You have missed them all. Even the Salvatore douche. God how you missed others. You could see Kai slowed down. He had very good eyes, and he saw you were holding your hand to your ear. He was fifty steps away.

“Y/N, where are you? We came to get you back home. Listen, we never meant to...”

“Ask her about Parker”.

“Are you alright? Are you with him?”

“We’re not taking him with us!”

Your voice quivered.

“I’m fine”.

It came out less bitter than you meant; like you were about to cry, while in reality you were bursting with rage.

“Is he keeping you there? Or has he left you there alone?”

“What do you mean?”

The audacity of them. Left you alone. They’re the only ones who throw their friends into magical prison worlds, for nothing.

“Well, he has stolen the ascendant. We had to build a new one”.

“What are you talking about? Kai doesn’t have the ascendant”.

There was silence. Through the flapping hot hawaiian air, you could see Kai with the paper bags walking towards you.

“Yes, he does”, Elena chuckled sadly. “We thought he’d be out by now”.

“We only found one useless spell, Elena”, you growled, “how are we supposed to get out without Bonnie’s blood?”

“Oh my god”, you heard Damon mutter. The palm trees started swaying in front of you. You knew now yet another thing. You were just afraid to think it.

“Bonnie conjured that one without blood. We didn’t have much time, Y/N. It was just the spell, and the ascendant. You’re saying he found it? Why hasn’t he got out then?”

All your guts sank down there together with your mind. At the same time, there was nothing to be shocked about. The signs were all there. You never even showed interest enough for him to share about the ritual of traveling between the worlds.

“That fucking liar was keeping me here”.

“Y/N, where are you?” Elena was almost yelling now.

“Tell her to go back”.

“Is he abusing you?”

Your face got distorted with anger and bitterness at the same time; you could feel you’re grimacing at him, as the musles in your face and neck went tense.

A gust of wind slapped you in the face, and the phone slipped out of your hand. The invisible pull was so sudden you were grabbed, too, and nearly fell on your face, as the clutch pulled on your hand a little.

“Kai!”

The phone shot through the air, right into his hand, and fifteen steps away, you could see he was furious already. The temper of this guy.

He hopped through the air. Your head was ringing with the echoes of their voices.

Kai couldn’t wait to walk another couple of meters, so he just leaped to you using magic. Perhaps he also did it to startle you more; as he reemerged next to you, his hand laid on your throat, and not the usual possessive sensual way, but ‘i’m about to squeeze the life out of you’ way this time. Your head bumped on the side of the car. The only reason he didn’t smash the phone on the ground was probaby the amount of fantastic pics it held.

“What did he say?” Kai growled.

If you could talk, or breathe, you’d say he’s a dick. You fought him, the anger giving you strength, your fists hitting him into the chest and stomach.

“Is he coming for you?”

Kai was screaming, and you have never seen him like that. For a moment there it felt like the old Parker, the miserable, uncontrollable, lightning throwing witch was back in his skin again, and you couldn’t take it to fix him all over again.

Your hands grabbed on his forearm as you kicked him in the shin as hard as you could. Kai yelled, letting you go, and you could finally breathe.

“Dick”, you scolded, “you dick”.

Your voice was hoarse. He didn’t hear you. Kai was suddenly full of demonic fear and fury, and the noise; he barely felt pain which let go of him in a second.

“You’ve been lying to me?!”

“You’re not going anywhere”, he said, his voice quivering with how much he contained inside. All the acid lava sleeping in the depths of his being, frozen by the comfort of not being disturbed, like he was locked away in a mental institution, now rose again and illuminated his skin from the inside.

“You’re lying to me!”

Too bad you lost it, too. Kai might have become a little like you; but you have become a little like him, too.

“You said there was no way out! While you had the ascendant all along? From day one!”

“You said you liked it here!”

You charged at him, your fist up, and he blocked it easily, hitting you in the stomach.

So, he beats girls, too!

He was never good at seeing the kick coming. God knows why, if you wanted to defeat Kai Parker, you just kicked him with one of your legs. He never sees it coming. The fight exhausted both of you as you screamed atrocities at each other. You knew you were just letting the frustration out; that kind that floods over you when you realize you’ve been wasting months in the prison world while you had all the means of getting out that whole time.

Kai, however, was fueled by something more sinister than that.

You never really meant to hurt him. Just punch him in the teeth for being a proper dick. He knew he was doing wrong, otherwise he wouldn’t be asking this ‘you like it here, right?’ like a broken record all the time.

And like a fool, you always replied, yes, because it was truth.

He now believed you’ve been lying to him, too, like a scared cat that was suddenly brought in at the vet clinic and the doctor was clicking the long metal scissors in front of him. He felt betrayed. He thought you’re dreaming of getting out and see your friends again.

“I am not enough for you! You have the whole world! And me! So what, you meant something else when you said that I am everything you need?” he yelled. Almost at the top of his lungs. The clouds were meanwhile gathering above Manoa, to release the rain in ten minutes.

“I meant it!”

“Then why do you need to leave?!”

“Not me - us!”

“We are not going anywhere! You’re staying here, with me!”

“No, you listen to me, Parker, we’re going back there, together, just like we arrived here! This”, you pointed your finger at the wretched sky where even the rain was on schedule, “is not real”.

As soon as those words left your mouth, you knew he’d misinterpret them.

His mouth moved like he was about to tear down his own face and bit yours off with the bloodied teeth of a skeleton. You could feel your lower lip swell. Blood was dripping down your chin because of how hard you fell on your face after he threw you away with his witchy move. You were about to break his jaw completely, and it was his own doing. If he hadn’t wanted you to become a fighter, he shouldn’t have taught you.

Your right fist was shaking with pain. It felt like you shattered your knuckles completely beating on his stupid head. Nothing in the world could set it right.

“What did you say?”

You felt mortally tired. It felt like when you stood on the edge of the Canyon, like when you were about to fall.

“Kai, this world is fiction. We need to go back out there...”

“It doesn’t work out there!”

“It will”.

He panted. He spat the blood on the ground, and you felt like you wanted to stop fighting and start making out.

The paper bags were scattered all around the car, one lonely banana forgotten under the blazing sun.

“I will fucking kill you for lying to me”, you sighed.

“I thought you loved me”, Kai responded, his voice dead, and your heart shuddered.

“I fucking do!” you roared.

“Then why do you...”

and that, all over again.

#kai parker #kai parker imagine #kai parker x reader #vampire diaries imagine #tvd imagine

[dalishious]

not da but I'm getting into Canadian music, I think you've mentioned before you like the tragically hip, what do you think of sloan? any other bands and artists to consider?

There’s a reason The Tragically Hip is so beloved in this country. Their songs aren’t just songs, they’re poetry. If you want to check them out, I recommend starting with the album Yer Favourites, which is a collection of their top songs voted by fans. And also I’d like to give a special shoutout to what I consider to be an extremely underrated album: We Are The Same. Most people will tell you Fully Completely is their best one, but there isn’t a single song in We Are The Same that I don’t love. (Especially Country Days, The Depression Suite, Coffee Girl, and of course, Now The Struggle Has a Name...)

Sloan has some good ones, and I’d be a poor Nova Scotian not to say that lol. If you like any of The Hip’s songs that have a more pop-ish vibe, you’ll probably like them.

Anyway, some more recommendations, only English unless you’re open to some French as well, let me know:

MATTHEW GOOD. MATTHEW GOOD. MATTHEW GOOD. (Before going solo, Matthew Good Band.) One of my all time favourite artists. I recently shared my playlist of my favourites on my main blog if you’re interested. Also just like The Hip, his lyrics are more often than not very poetic, and I love that. Especially given a number of them come from personal places and I’ll just say if you have any mental disorders yourself there’s a good chance you’ll be able to really feel when he sings about his own. Anyway, my two favourite albums in particular are Hospital Music and Avalanche, with Moving Walls and Underdogs (Matthew Good Band) close behind.

Our Lady Peace is fantastic. I recommend starting with the albums Gravity and Clumsy.

The Stanfields are a fun mix of what they call Folk’n’Roll. Check out their albums Vanguard of the Young & Reckless and Death & Taxes for sure. (Oh fuck, also check out the video for Afraid of the World because the end of it gets me every time... white woman walks around scoffing at all the pumpkin heads, then goes home and puts on her pumpkin head.)

If you’re interested in another really great mix of Atlantic Folk and alternative rock, I suggest Joel Plaskett / Joel Plaskett Emergency. Start with either the Joel Plaskett Emergency album Ashtray Rock, or the solo Joel Plaskett album Three. Also the album Solidarity he did with his father, Bill Plaskett, is beautiful. The Next Blue Sky is one of my favourite songs ever.

Matt Mays is one more Atlantic Folksy rock guy. Once Upon a Hell of a Time and Twice Upon a Hell of a Time (acoustic versions of Once) are a perfect starting point in my opinion, though most fans of his would tell you to start with the album Coyote, which is also great!

Arcade Fire is... I’m not really sure how to describe Arcade Fire. I like some of their stuff, but they are something of an acquired taste, I think. Try the album The Suburbs.

If I tell you I adored Avril Lavigne and Billy Talent growing up, would you judge me? Because I did, and I still do. If you’re willing to keep an open mind, try Avril Lavigne’s albums Under My Skin and Let Go, and if you’re in a real angsty mood, try Billy Talent’s albums Dead Silence and Hits. (I would especially recommend trying Billy Talent if you like bands like say, Green Day and MCR.)

Okay, some more classics... Rush, The Guess Who, Bachman-Turner Overdrive (BTO), and April Wine are all great. They all have greatest hits / best of albums, so just start there.

Oh shit, I almost forgot Bryan Adams, AKA the Canadian Bruce Springsteen. Though you’ll have trouble finding one of my favourite songs by him, so here it is.

I also feel like I needn’t even bother mentioning Neil Young since I’m assuming you him before, but... yeah. Neil Young, obviously.

EDIT: AAHHH forgot Great Big Sea! Check out their album Play.

EDIT: Yes I love Nickelback too. Sue me.

EDIT: I forgot, Alanis Morissete is Canadian. Listen to her Jagged Little Pill album if you’ve never done so before.

EDIT: I had no idea Three Days Grace was Canadian??? One-X and Human are my favourite albums by them, but Life Starts Now is also pretty up there. (Similar vibes to Bily Talent, but I’d say even more angsty lol)

I also wanna give a particular shoutout to at least some albums from my fave Canadian Indigenous artists:

Shawnee deserves so many more listeners please check her out. Her only full album as of now is Let It Burn, but she’s also got a bunch of released singles. 

Buffy Sainte-Marie’s Medicine Songs and The Best Of

Jeremy Dutcher’s Wolastoqiyik Lintuwakonawa... I know I said I’d limit reccomendations to English but I can’t help it.

Susan Aglukark’s This Child

Adrian Sutherland is a newbie, but I am begging everyone reading this to check out his song Politician Man. Needless to say, I look forward to hearing more from him.

#not da #music #Anonymous #ask

[dailyniallnews]

Niall Horan talks perception, identity and reunions ahead of Heartbreak Weather

Niall Horan might just be the most surprising member of One Direction.

When the era-defining boyband went on hiatus in January 2016, the lion’s share of attention focused on Harry Styles and Zayn Malik: what would their solo albums sound like? But when Horan dropped his debut LP Flicker the following year, he matched his more talked-about bandmates by topping the US albums chart. Lead single “This Town” showed a new, folky side to the Irishman, while follow-up hit “Slow Hands” proved he could write a guitar bop as catchy as One Direction’s best singles.

Now Niall Horan is back with second album Heartbreak Weather, crafted with a loose concept based around a breakup. “I didn't want just to be like, 'I'm so sad, feel sorry for me,'” Horan tells me. “I wanted some of the songs to be written from the other person's angle, and to explore all the different feelings you have when you go through a breakup. Because it's not always sad is it? Some days you're like, 'Fuck it, I'm going to go out tonight and paint the town red'.” The swaggering, almost Kasabian-ish lead single “Nice to Meet Ya” definitely captures the latter mentality.

When I meet Horan in a fancy London hotel room, he’s friendly, relaxed and seems remarkably well-adjusted for someone who’s been watched, shipped and written about since he was sixteen years old. He also says “fuck” a lot, infectiously, as he talks about his new album, the pros and cons of social media and the never-ending rumours of a 1D reunion.

BEST FIT: Because the first album did so well, do you almost feel as though there’s more pressure the second time around?

NIALL HORAN: Yeah, I suppose so. The success of the first one means people are now watching to see where I'm at. You know what I mean? Which is a great thing, but while I'm in the studio, I try not to think about it like that. You do have the ‘second album syndrome’ thing in your head all the time, but I wanted to go in the studio and have fun. If I was dwelling on it, I'd just have been chasing down a hit the whole time. I'd be like, “Oh shit, I need another “Slow Hands” now”. And I probably did that for a second actually.

But really, I tried just to grab the album by the scruff of its neck, especially with what I wanted to do musically. I knew I wanted this album to be upbeat. I felt like I'd pigeonholed myself a touch with the genre I went down last time. Which was great, and it was exactly how I wanted to do it, and it was successful. But looking forward now, I'll have a good blend of uptempo and sad songs for my next tour. I won't be as pigeonholed as I was before.

So were you thinking about how the songs would sound live as you made the album?

Yeah, I love playing live. It's my number one thing. I'd mad into going to gigs. If I see on Spotify that a band I love is playing near where I live, I'm gonna go to it. Some of my favourite artists of all time are still touring – look at Bruce Springsteen and The Eagles. If the music's good enough, I'd love to be one of those artists in years to come. So yeah, I want a good mix of songs in my live show. I want people to cry when they need to cry, but I also want people to sway and put the lights on their phones or whatever they do. But I also want people to rip the roof off the venue when they need to.

When I saw Adele live, she kind of apologised, jokingly, for having so many slow, sad songs in her setlist.

Ha! Exactly. I kind of became known for a while as the guy with the sad songs – “oh, here he is!” And people were kind of expecting me to come out with another sad one. So I just wanted to change things up. But if people know me and know what my personality's like, when I bring out a song like “Nice to Meet Ya”, they're not gonna be like: “Fucking hell, what's he doing that for?” Because it's not out of this world that I'm doing a song like this.

Is it difficult for you not to second-guess what people might think – because you’ve been famous for so long now in such an intense way?

I suppose so. What I don't wanna do is scare people off. There's been artists and bands over the years who kind of get in their own heads about what the album should be, and end up ruining things for themselves. Do you know what I mean? I’m talking about when fans go, “Oh fuck, what's she done that for? She didn't need to do that.”

I just wanted to make a bit of a change musically but without really alienating the fans and people who liked my stuff first time around. But it's got to change a bit – people get bored if it's always the same shit all the time.

Why is “No Judgement” the right single to lead into the album with?

It feels like where I wanna go next. “Nice to Meet Ya” was the obvious song to come back and make a bit of noise with. But this song kind of sums up the whole album in terms of the electric guitar sound and the groove and feel of it. And then the lyric is a great message: it's something I want people to hear. I think the first line of the chorus is: “When you're with me, no judgement, you can get that from everyone else.” We all just seem to love judging each other – giving shit to each other online, just being shit to each other. So it's kind of like an arm-round-the-shoulder type song, but with a bit of attitude to it. It's got a “come on over to my house” sexy element to it because it's a true story. It's about this situation where we don't have to explain to each other why we keep on going in and out of each others' lives, because it just happens.

In a way, you’ve been judged by people you don’t know since you were 16 years old. Is that something you ever get used to, or can your skin only grow so thick?

Um... I've always been quite, like, alright with it? Because I understand that people out there don't know me, you know? When my career started, it was the beginning of Twitter, and even then I understood that people wouldn't be saying that they liked everything I did. So I am kind of thick-skinned in that way.

What I don't like is that people don't understand the impact of what they say online. Why are people allowed to be like that to each other? I'm fine with it, because I get it, but I do think: “Don't be nasty to people who are maybe a little softer than me.” I just don't like the way that people feel like they can say whatever they want just because they've got their thumbs on their phones. You would never walk up to someone on the street and say the shit that people say to each other on Twitter. You never would – or it would kick off.

Have there been times where you’ve been hurt by something you’ve read online?

I've been okay with it, mostly, but there have been times where it's like: “Fucking hell, I can't believe you just said that”. It doesn't hurt me because I know it's just some keyboard warrior or whatever they call them, but I still can't believe that some people think it's fine to say these things. Social media is the best and worst place in the world. We laugh and we joke and it produces some of the most fire, funny moments, but there's a horrible side to it and that doesn't seem to be getting any better.

All you need to do is look at the President of the United States, who's just a keyboard warrior himself. It really dumbfounds me that people are allowed to be that nasty to each other and we can't do anything about it.

If you could release an album without the promo opportunities that social media provides, would you delete your accounts?

Ooh, that's a fucking great question. I think I've got an alright balance with it, so I think I'd keep it. Just to be nosy, because I like looking around.

You could just have a secret account that no one knows about...

True. Yeah, maybe I'd do that. I like the fact I've kept my life relatively private considering the madness. I think I've done a good job of that over the years. I don't generally get “papped” everywhere I go, and you don't read mad stories about me in the paper because to be honest, they don't exist. But you know, you need social media these days to keep up with things. I wanna see what James Blunt's tweeting, you know what I mean? I wanna see shit like that on a daily basis. That's why I go on social media and why you go on social media – you're not going on it to send an abusive tweet, are you?

You said earlier that you love going to gigs – but can you do that without being recognised and asked for selfies?

Obviously it helps if I know a tour manager or an agent and I might be able to get in the stage door or something like that. But if not, it’s fine, I go to loads of gigs. I just wear a hat, you know? I understand that it's part of my life – if I wanna go to a gig, people might see me, and I just have to deal with it. For the most part I'm alright though. Ever since I cut the blond out of my hair, life's been so much easier. That's going to be the headline isn't it? Please don't use it as the headline! But honestly, I used to be the “blond Irish fella” and now I'm the dark-haired Irish fella.

I promise that won’t be the headline-

Honestly, no joke. If anyone ever makes an emoji of me for a campaign or something, they always make me with blond hair. I haven't had blond hair in about six years! But it's definitely a lot easier for me to get around now I don't have blond hair, which doesn't say a lot about my music over the last three years, does it? Oh God!

One Direction wasn’t just a pop group; it was a global phenomenon. Is that something you’ve got your head around now – or is it something you can’t ever get your head round?

I mean, you would have to be processing every day to really wrap your head around it. But it definitely makes more sense to me now. To be fair, when I was in the band, I always used to think to myself, “Think what this looks like from the outside.” Because it felt fish bowl-y. We were in this little bubble that we were just kind of bouncing around in and that was our life. But from the outside, it was a massive phenomenon and I would always try to break it down and take in as much as I could. We did so much in five years, which is such a short period of time, really. And I think that will take time to fully process. The fact that we're talking about it now says it all, because it obviously meant such a lot to people. It's only now that I can really look back and think: “Fucking hell that was a great time. I really enjoyed it.”

Because there are only five people in the world who fully understand what being the band was like, does that mean they feel almost like brothers to you now?

100%. There's no doubt about it. When I saw that Instagram that Jennifer Aniston posted with the cast of Friends, it kind of reminded of One Direction, because they're the only ones that get it. Maybe that's a strange analogy, but hopefully you know what I mean? There are only five people who understand how it felt to be under that spotlight for so long, and we actually had a very small core team around us. So we're basically brothers for life.

If you posted a selfie with all four of your bandmates, Jennifer Aniston-style, you’d probably break Instagram too.

Yeah, it's nuts! With this phone I could blow Instagram. It's crazy to think there is that power just in your hands. It's mad, I still probably haven't fully processed how big the phenomenon was. I understood we were part of something that was this crazy movement in music – one we kept being told was a “once in a generation” thing. And that's why I'm comfortable talking about it, because I'm proud of it. But I don't think I'll ever be able to fully get that.

I guess you’re always going to be “Niall from One Direction”!

Yeah but I'm completely fine with that. I wouldn't be doing what I'm doing now if I didn't have One Direction. Literally I was in school and then I wasn't. Do you know what I mean? I literally packed a suitcase and never came back and became a member of this historical band. And I'll always be. And that's fine. Maybe I'll always be the blond Irish fella? And I'm completely fine with that. And I love One Direction and I love the music, and I can tell you I had a fucking great time in that band. And if and when it happens, I'm ready to go. And until then, I'll be in the studio making my own stuff and travelling the world and loving doing that.

So you can see One Direction having a second act, a bit like Take That?

I tell you what, if I look as good as they did when we bring out our "have a little patience”... Fucking hell, when they came back they looked better than they ever did. If we all look that good, I'll take it.

But to come back as great as they did – you know, it didn't look forced. I would hate for people to be like, “Here they are coming for the money – because they've spent it all”. I'd hate for people to think of us like that because if we're doing it [again], we'll be doing it for the fans and obviously for ourselves too. We came from a reality TV show – people got to see how normal we were on a weekly basis and I think that was half the reason people liked us. Because they were like, “Fucking hell, if they can do it, then I can do it.”

So if and when we come back, it would be to bring the joy back to people who had missed us... and the fact that we could break the internet with that selfie! It wouldn't be so much of an ego thing, it would be, “Fucking hell, let's do it again." That's how I wanna do it. I wanna do it when everyone is fucking ready.

It’s because you were such a big deal that the reunion rumours never really go away.

It makes sense. It's just trying to explain that to people on a regular basis. I'm not saying this specifically to you. But I'm reading a lot of 1D reunion rumours at the moment and no one's said anything. Or maybe one of the boys has said something like "if and when" and it's taken as "right, they're coming back". So I find myself answering it in a really long-winded way to cover all the ground. But the answer is: we're all doing our own thing at the minute, but when we're ready, we'll let you know.

Have you set yourself any specific goals for this record?

Jesus Christ, well, I'd love another number one – that would be amazing if I could fucking match what I did with the first album. I feel like the music on this one is better. And I'd love to really open up the fanbase again. Last time it was crazy, because the longer the album was out, it felt like the crowds were getting older. I would go to play somewhere like Charlotte, North Carolina and I’d find there were a lot of older couples in the audience and groups of guys and people I never thought I'd see. I'd like to do the same with this album.

I also hope that people see my songwriting has got better because it has. So, just small little goals really, though I'll take a Grammy nomination as well!

Heartbreak Weather is relased on 13 March via Capitol Records

#Niall Horan #article #heartbreak weather promo #heartbreak weather #03mar20

[path-of-my-childhood]

The Rolling Stone Interview: Taylor Swift

By: Brian Hiatt for The Rolling Stone Magazine Date: September 18th 2019

In her most in-depth and introspective interview in years, Swift tells all about the rocky road to 'Lover' and much, much more.

Taylor Swift bursts into her mom’s Nashville kitchen, smiling, looking remarkably like Taylor Swift. (That red-lip, classic thing? Check.) “I need someone to help dye my hair pink,” she says, and moments later, her ends match her sparkly nail polish, sneakers, and the stripes on her button-down. It’s all in keeping with the pastel aesthetic of her new album, Lover; black-leather combat-Taylor from her previous album cycle has handed back the phone. Around the black-granite kitchen island, all is calm and normal, as Swift’s mom, dad, and younger brother pass through. Her mom’s two dogs, one very small, one very large, pounce upon visitors with slurping glee. It could be any 29-year-old’s weekend visit with her parents, if not for the madness looming a few feet down the hall.

In an airy terrace, 113 giddy, weepy, shaky, still-in-disbelief fans are waiting for the start of one of Swift’s secret sessions, sacred rituals in Swift-dom. She’s about to play them her seventh album, as-yet unreleased on this Sunday afternoon in early August, and offer copious commentary. Also, she made cookies. Just before the session, Swift sits down in her mom’s study (where she “operates the Google,” per her daughter) to chat for a few minutes. The black-walled room is decorated with black-and-white classic-rock photos, including shots of Bruce Springsteen and, unsurprisingly, James Taylor; there are also more recent shots of Swift posing with Kris Kristofferson and playing with Def Leppard, her mom’s favorite band.

In a corner is an acoustic guitar Swift played as a teenager. She almost certainly wrote some well-known songs on it, but can’t recall which ones. “It would be kind of weird to finish a song and be like, ‘And this moment, I shall remember,’'” she says, laughing. “‘This guitar hath been anointed with my sacred tuneage!'”

The secret session itself is, as the name suggests, deeply off-the-record; it can be confirmed that she drank some white wine, since her glass pops up in some Instagram pictures. She stays until 5 a.m., chatting and taking photos with every one of the fans. Five hours later, we continue our talk at length in Swift’s Nashville condo, in almost exactly the same spot where we did one of our interviews for her 2012 Rolling Stone cover story. She’s hardly changed its whimsical decor in the past seven years (one of the few additions is a pool table replacing the couch where we sat last time), so it’s an old-Taylor time capsule. There’s still a huge bunny made of moss in one corner, and a human-size birdcage in the living room, though the view from the latter is now of generic new condo buildings instead of just distant green hills. Swift is barefoot now, in pale-blue jeans and a blue button-down tied at the waist; her hair is pulled back, her makeup minimal.

How to sum up the past three years of Taylor Swift? In July 2016, after Swift expressed discontent with Kanye West’s “Famous,” Kim Kardashian did her best to destroy her, unleashing clandestine recordings of a phone conversation between Swift and West. In the piecemeal audio, Swift can be heard agreeing to the line “…me and Taylor might still have sex.” We don’t hear her learning about the next lyric, the one she says bothered her — “I made that bitch famous” — and as she’ll explain, there’s more to her side of the story. The backlash was, well, swift, and overwhelming. It still hasn’t altogether subsided. Later that year, Swift chose not to make an endorsement in the 2016 election, which definitely didn’t help. In the face of it all, she made Reputation — fierce, witty, almost-industrial pop offset by love songs of crystalline beauty — and had a wildly successful stadium tour. Somewhere in there, she met her current boyfriend, Joe Alwyn, and judging by certain songs on Lover, the relationship is serious indeed.

Lover is Swift’s most adult album, a rebalancing of sound and persona that opens doors to the next decade of her career; it’s also a welcome return to the sonic diversity of 2012’s Red, with tracks ranging from the St. Vincent-assisted über-bop “Cruel Summer” to the unbearably poignant country-fied “Soon You’ll Get Better” (with the Dixie Chicks) and the “Shake It Off”-worthy pep of “Paper Rings.”

She wants to talk about the music, of course, but she is also ready to explain the past three years of her life, in depth, for the first time. The conversation is often not a light one. She’s built up more armor in the past few years, but still has the opposite of a poker face — you can see every micro-emotion wash over her as she ponders a question, her nose wrinkling in semi-ironic offense at the term “old-school pop stars,” her preposterously blue eyes glistening as she turns to darker subjects. In her worst moments, she says, “You feel like you’re being completely pulled into a riptide. So what are you going to do? Splash a lot? Or hold your breath and hope you somehow resurface? And that’s what I did. And it took three years. Sitting here doing an interview — the fact that we’ve done an interview before is the only reason I’m not in a full body sweat.”

When we talked seven years ago, everything was going so well for you, and you were very worried that something would go wrong. Yeah, I kind of knew it would. I felt like I was walking along the sidewalk, knowing eventually the pavement was going to crumble and I was gonna fall through. You can’t keep winning and have people like it. People love “new” so much — they raise you up the flagpole, and you’re waving at the top of the flagpole for a while. And then they’re like, “Wait, this new flag is what we actually love.” They decide something you’re doing is incorrect, that you’re not standing for what you should stand for. You’re a bad example. Then if you keep making music and you survive, and you keep connecting with people, eventually they raise you a little bit up the flagpole again, and then they take you back down, and back up again. And it happens to women more than it happens to men in music.

It also happened to you a few times on a smaller scale, didn’t it? I’ve had several upheavals in my career. When I was 18, they were like, “She doesn’t really write those songs.” So my third album I wrote by myself as a reaction to that. Then they decided I was a serial dater — a boy-crazy man-eater — when I was 22. And so I didn’t date anyone for, like, two years. And then they decided in 2016 that absolutely everything about me was wrong. If I did something good, it was for the wrong reasons. If I did something brave, I didn’t do it correctly. If I stood up for myself, I was throwing a tantrum. And so I found myself in this endless mockery echo chamber. It’s just like — I have a brother who’s two and a half years younger, and we spent the first half of our lives trying to kill each other and the second half as best friends. You know that game kids play? I’d be like, “Mom, can I have some water?” And Austin would be like, “Mom, can I have some water?” And I’m like, “He’s copying me.” And he’d be like, “He’s copying me.” Always in a really obnoxious voice that sounds all twisted. That’s what it felt like in 2016. So I decided to just say nothing. It wasn’t really a decision. It was completely involuntary.

But you also had good things happen in your life at the same time — that’s part of Reputation. The moments of my true story on that album are songs like “Delicate,” “New Year’s Day,” “Call It What You Want,” “Dress.” The one-two punch, bait-and-switch of Reputation is that it was actually a love story. It was a love story in amongst chaos. All the weaponized sort of metallic battle anthems were what was going on outside. That was the battle raging on that I could see from the windows, and then there was what was happening inside my world — my newly quiet, cozy world that was happening on my own terms for the first time. . . . It’s weird, because in some of the worst times of my career, and reputation, dare I say, I had some of the most beautiful times — in my quiet life that I chose to have. And I had some of the most incredible memories with the friends I now knew cared about me, even if everyone hated me. The bad stuff was really significant and damaging. But the good stuff will endure. The good lessons — you realize that you can’t just show your life to people.

Meaning? I used to be like a golden retriever, just walking up to everybody, like, wagging my tail. “Sure, yeah, of course! What do you want to know? What do you need?” Now, I guess, I have to be a little bit more like a fox.

Do your regrets on that extend to the way the “girl squad” thing was perceived? Yeah, I never would have imagined that people would have thought, “This is a clique that wouldn’t have accepted me if I wanted to be in it.” Holy shit, that hit me like a ton of bricks. I was like, “Oh, this did not go the way that I thought it was going to go.” I thought it was going to be we can still stick together, just like men are allowed to do. The patriarchy allows men to have bro packs. If you’re a male artist, there’s an understanding that you have respect for your counterparts.

Whereas women are expected to be feuding with each other? It’s assumed that we hate each other. Even if we’re smiling and photographed together with our arms around each other, it’s assumed there’s a knife in our pocket.

How much of a danger was there of falling into that thought pattern yourself? The messaging is dangerous, yes. Nobody is immune, because we’re a product of what society and peer groups and now the internet tells us, unless we learn differently from experience.

You once sang about a star who “took the money and your dignity, and got the hell out.” In 2016, you wrote in your journal, “This summer is the apocalypse.” How close did you come to quitting altogether? I definitely thought about that a lot. I thought about how words are my only way of making sense of the world and expressing myself — and now any words I say or write are being twisted against me. People love a hate frenzy. It’s like piranhas. People had so much fun hating me, and they didn’t really need very many reasons to do it. I felt like the situation was pretty hopeless. I wrote a lot of really aggressively bitter poems constantly. I wrote a lot of think pieces that I knew I’d never publish, about what it’s like to feel like you’re in a shame spiral. And I couldn’t figure out how to learn from it. Because I wasn’t sure exactly what I did that was so wrong. That was really hard for me, because I cannot stand it when people can’t take criticism. So I try to self-examine, and even though that’s really hard and hurts a lot sometimes, I really try to understand where people are coming from when they don’t like me. And I completely get why people wouldn’t like me. Because, you know, I’ve had my insecurities say those things — and things 1,000 times worse.

But some of your former critics have become your friends, right? Some of my best friendships came from people publicly criticizing me and then it opening up a conversation. Hayley Kiyoko was doing an interview and she made an example about how I get away with singing about straight relationships and people don’t give me shit the way they give her shit for singing about girls — and it’s totally valid. Like, Ella — Lorde — the first thing she ever said about me publicly was a criticism of my image or whatever. But I can’t really respond to someone saying, “You, as a human being, are fake.” And if they say you’re playing the victim, that completely undermines your ability to ever verbalize how you feel unless it’s positive. So, OK, should I just smile all the time and never say anything hurts me? Because that’s really fake. Or should I be real about how I’m feeling and have valid, legitimate responses to things that happened to me in my life? But wait, would that be playing the victim?

How do you escape that mental trap? Since I was 15 years old, if people criticized me for something, I changed it. So you realize you might be this amalgamation of criticisms that were hurled at you, and not an actual person who’s made any of these choices themselves. And so I decided I needed to live a quiet life, because a quiet personal life invites no discussion, dissection, and debate. I didn’t realize I was inviting people to feel they had the right to sort of play my life like a video game.

“The old Taylor can’t come to the phone right now. Why? Because she’s dead!” was funny — but how seriously should we take it? There’s a part of me that definitely is always going to be different. I needed to grow up in many ways. I needed to make boundaries, to figure out what was mine and what was the public’s. That old version of me that shares unfailingly and unblinkingly with a world that is probably not fit to be shared with? I think that’s gone. But it was definitely just, like, a fun moment in the studio with me and Jack [Antonoff] where I wanted to play on the idea of a phone call — because that’s how all of this started, a stupid phone call I shouldn’t have picked up.

It would have been much easier if that’s what you’d just said. It would have been so, so great if I would have just said that [laughs].

Some of the Lover iconography does suggest old Taylor’s return, though. I don’t think I’ve ever leaned into the old version of myself more creatively than I have on this album, where it’s very, very autobiographical. But also moments of extreme catchiness and moments of extreme personal confession.

Did you do anything wrong from your perspective in dealing with that phone call? Is there anything you regret? The world didn’t understand the context and the events that led up to it. Because nothing ever just happens like that without some lead-up. Some events took place to cause me to be pissed off when he called me a bitch. That was not just a singular event. Basically, I got really sick of the dynamic between he and I. And that wasn’t just based on what happened on that phone call and with that song — it was kind of a chain reaction of things.

I started to feel like we reconnected, which felt great for me — because all I ever wanted my whole career after that thing happened in 2009 was for him to respect me. When someone doesn’t respect you so loudly and says you literally don’t deserve to be here — I just so badly wanted that respect from him, and I hate that about myself, that I was like, “This guy who’s antagonizing me, I just want his approval.” But that’s where I was. And so we’d go to dinner and stuff. And I was so happy, because he would say really nice things about my music. It just felt like I was healing some childhood rejection or something from when I was 19. But the 2015 VMAs come around. He’s getting the Vanguard Award. He called me up beforehand — I didn’t illegally record it, so I can’t play it for you. But he called me up, maybe a week or so before the event, and we had maybe over an hourlong conversation, and he’s like, “I really, really would like for you to present this Vanguard Award to me, this would mean so much to me,” and went into all the reasons why it means so much, because he can be so sweet. He can be the sweetest. And I was so stoked that he asked me that. And so I wrote this speech up, and then we get to the VMAs and I make this speech and he screams, “MTV got Taylor Swift up here to present me this award for ratings!” [His exact words: “You know how many times they announced Taylor was going to give me the award ’cause it got them more ratings?”] And I’m standing in the audience with my arm around his wife, and this chill ran through my body. I realized he is so two-faced. That he wants to be nice to me behind the scenes, but then he wants to look cool, get up in front of everyone and talk shit. And I was so upset. He wanted me to come talk to him after the event in his dressing room. I wouldn’t go. So then he sent this big, big thing of flowers the next day to apologize. And I was like, “You know what? I really don’t want us to be on bad terms again. So whatever, I’m just going to move past this.” So when he gets on the phone with me, and I was so touched that he would be respectful and, like, tell me about this one line in the song.

The line being “. . . me and Taylor might still have sex”? [Nods] And I was like, “OK, good. We’re back on good terms.” And then when I heard the song, I was like, “I’m done with this. If you want to be on bad terms, let’s be on bad terms, but just be real about it.” And then he literally did the same thing to Drake. He gravely affected the trajectory of Drake’s family and their lives. It’s the same thing. Getting close to you, earning your trust, detonating you. I really don’t want to talk about it anymore because I get worked up, and I don’t want to just talk about negative shit all day, but it’s the same thing. Go watch Drake talk about what happened. [West denied any involvement in Pusha-T’s revelation of Drake’s child and apologized for sending “negative energy” toward Drake.]

When did you get to the place that’s described on the opening track of Lover, “I Forgot That You Existed”? It was sometime on the Reputation tour, which was the most transformative emotional experience of my career. That tour put me in the healthiest, most balanced place I’ve ever been. After that tour, bad stuff can happen to me, but it doesn’t level me anymore. The stuff that happened a couple of months ago with Scott [Borchetta] would have leveled me three years ago and silenced me. I would have been too afraid to speak up. Something about that tour made me disengage from some part of public perception I used to hang my entire identity on, which I now know is incredibly unhealthy.

What was the actual revelation? It’s almost like I feel more clear about the fact that my job is to be an entertainer. It’s not like this massive thing that sometimes my brain makes it into, and sometimes the media makes it into, where we’re all on this battlefield and everyone’s gonna die except one person, who wins. It’s like, “No, do you know what? Katy is going to be legendary. Gaga is going to be legendary. Beyoncé is going to be legendary. Rihanna is going to be legendary. Because the work that they made completely overshadows the myopia of this 24-hour news cycle of clickbait.” And somehow I realized that on tour, as I was looking at people’s faces. We’re just entertaining people, and it’s supposed to be fun.

It’s interesting to look at these albums as a trilogy. 1989 was really a reset button. Oh, in every way. I’ve been very vocal about the fact that that decision was mine and mine alone, and it was definitely met with a lot of resistance. Internally.

After realizing that things were not all smiles with your former label boss, Scott Borchetta, it’s hard not to wonder how much additional conflict there was over things like that. A lot of the best things I ever did creatively were things that I had to really fight — and I mean aggressively fight — to have happen. But, you know, I’m not like him, making crazy, petty accusations about the past. . . . When you have a business relationship with someone for 15 years, there are going to be a lot of ups and a lot of downs. But I truly, legitimately thought he looked at me as the daughter he never had. And so even though we had a lot of really bad times and creative differences, I was going to hang my hat on the good stuff. I wanted to be friends with him. I thought I knew what betrayal felt like, but this stuff that happened with him was a redefinition of betrayal for me, just because it felt like it was family. To go from feeling like you’re being looked at as a daughter to this grotesque feeling of “Oh, I was actually his prized calf that he was fattening up to sell to the slaughterhouse that would pay the most.”

He accused you of declining the Parkland march and Manchester benefit show. Unbelievable. Here’s the thing: Everyone in my team knew if Scooter Braun brings us something, do not bring it to me. The fact that those two are in business together after the things he said about Scooter Braun — it’s really hard to shock me. And this was utterly shocking. These are two very rich, very powerful men, using $300 million of other people’s money to purchase, like, the most feminine body of work. And then they’re standing in a wood-panel bar doing a tacky photo shoot, raising a glass of scotch to themselves. Because they pulled one over on me and got this done so sneakily that I didn’t even see it coming. And I couldn’t say anything about it.

In some ways, on a musical level, Lover feels like the most indie-ish of your albums. That’s amazing, thank you. It’s definitely a quirky record. With this album, I felt like I sort of gave myself permission to revisit older themes that I used to write about, maybe look at them with fresh eyes. And to revisit older instruments — older in terms of when I used to use them. Because when I was making 1989, I was so obsessed with it being this concept of Eighties big pop, whether it was Eighties in its production or Eighties in its nature, just having these big choruses — being unapologetically big. And then Reputation, there was a reason why I had it all in lowercase. I felt like it wasn’t unapologetically commercial. It’s weird, because that is the album that took the most amount of explanation, and yet it’s the one I didn’t talk about. In the Reputation secret sessions I kind of had to explain to my fans, “I know we’re doing a new thing here that I’d never done before.” I’d never played with characters before. For a lot of pop stars, that’s a really fun trick, where they’re like, “This is my alter ego.” I had never played with that before. It’s really fun. And it was just so fun to play with on tour — the darkness and the bombast and the bitterness and the love and the ups and the downs of an emotional-turmoil record.

“Daylight” is a beautiful song. It feels like it could have been the title track. It almost was. I thought it might be a little bit too sentimental.

And I guess maybe too on-the-nose. Right, yeah, way too on-the-nose. That’s what I thought, because I was kind of in my head referring to the album as Daylight for a while. But Lover, to me, was a more interesting title, more of an accurate theme in my head, and more elastic as a concept. That’s why “You Need to Calm Down” can make sense within the theme of the album — one of the things it addresses is how certain people are not allowed to live their lives without discrimination just based on who they love.

For the more organic songs on this album, like “Lover” and “Paper Rings,” you said you were imagining a wedding band playing them. How often does that kind of visualization shape a song’s production style? Sometimes I’ll have a strange sort of fantasy of where the songs would be played. And so for songs like “Paper Rings” or “Lover” I was imagining a wedding-reception band, but in the Seventies, so they couldn’t play instruments that wouldn’t have been invented yet. I have all these visuals. For Reputation, it was nighttime cityscape. I didn’t really want any — or very minimal — traditional acoustic instruments. I imagined old warehouse buildings that had been deserted and factory spaces and all this industrial kind of imagery. So I wanted the production to have nothing wooden. There’s no wood floors on that album. Lover is, like, completely just a barn wood floor and some ripped curtains flowing in the breeze, and fields of flowers and, you know, velvet.

How did you come to use high school metaphors to touch on politics with “Miss Americana & the Heartbreak Prince”? There are so many influences that go into that particular song. I wrote it a couple of months after midterm elections, and I wanted to take the idea of politics and pick a metaphorical place for that to exist. And so I was thinking about a traditional American high school, where there’s all these kinds of social events that could make someone feel completely alienated. And I think a lot of people in our political landscape are just feeling like we need to huddle up under the bleachers and figure out a plan to make things better.

I feel like your Fall Out Boy fandom might’ve slipped out in that title. I love Fall Out Boy so much. Their songwriting really influenced me, lyrically, maybe more than anyone else. They take a phrase and they twist it. “Loaded God complex/Cock it and pull it”? When I heard that, I was like, “I’m dreaming.”

You sing about “American stories burning before me.” Do you mean the illusions of what America is? It’s about the illusions of what I thought America was before our political landscape took this turn, and that naivete that we used to have about it. And it’s also the idea of people who live in America, who just want to live their lives, make a living, have a family, love who they love, and watching those people lose their rights, or watching those people feel not at home in their home. I have that line “I see the high-fives between the bad guys” because not only are some really racist, horrific undertones now becoming overtones in our political climate, but the people who are representing those concepts and that way of looking at the world are celebrating loudly, and it’s horrific.

You’re in this weird place of being a blond, blue-eyed pop star in this era — to the point where until you endorsed some Democratic candidates, right-wingers, and worse, assumed you were on their side. I don’t think they do anymore. Yeah, that was jarring, and I didn’t hear about that until after it had happened. Because at this point, I, for a very long time, I didn’t have the internet on my phone, and my team and my family were really worried about me because I was not in a good place. And there was a lot of stuff that they just dealt with without telling me about it. Which is the only time that’s ever happened in my career. I’m always in the pilot seat, trying to fly the plane that is my career in exactly the direction I want to take it. But there was a time when I just had to throw my hands up and say, “Guys, I can’t. I can’t do this. I need you to just take over for me and I’m just going to disappear.”

Are you referring to when a white-supremacist site suggested you were on their team? I didn’t even see that, but, like, if that happened, that’s just disgusting. There’s literally nothing worse than white supremacy. It’s repulsive. There should be no place for it. Really, I keep trying to learn as much as I can about politics, and it’s become something I’m now obsessed with, whereas before, I was living in this sort of political ambivalence, because the person I voted for had always won. We were in such an amazing time when Obama was president because foreign nations respected us. We were so excited to have this dignified person in the White House. My first election was voting for him when he made it into office, and then voting to re-elect him. I think a lot of people are like me, where they just didn’t really know that this could happen. But I’m just focused on the 2020 election. I’m really focused on it. I’m really focused on how I can help and not hinder. Because I also don’t want it to backfire again, because I do feel that the celebrity involvement with Hillary’s campaign was used against her in a lot of ways.

You took a lot of heat for not getting involved. Does any part of you regret that you just didn’t say “fuck it” and gotten more specific when you said to vote that November? Totally. Yeah, I regret a lot of things all the time. It’s like a daily ritual.

Were you just convinced that it would backfire? That’s literally what it was. Yeah. It’s a very powerful thing when you legitimately feel like numbers have proven that pretty much everyone hates you. Like, quantifiably. That’s not me being dramatic. And you know that.

There were a lot of people in those stadiums. It’s true. But that was two years later. . . . I do think, as a party, we need to be more of a team. With Republicans, if you’re wearing that red hat, you’re one of them. And if we’re going to do anything to change what’s happening, we need to stick together. We need to stop dissecting why someone’s on our side or if they’re on our side in the right way or if they phrased it correctly. We need to not have the right kind of Democrat and the wrong kind of Democrat. We need to just be like, “You’re a Democrat? Sick. Get in the car. We’re going to the mall.”

Here’s a hard question for you: As a superfan, what did you think of the Game of Thrones finale? Oh, my God. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about this. So, clinically our brain responds to our favorite show ending the same way we feel when a breakup occurs. I read that. There’s no good way for it to end. No matter what would have happened in that finale, people still would have been really upset because of the fact that it’s over.

I was glad to see you confirm that your line about a “list of names” was a reference to Arya. I like to be influenced by movies and shows and books and stuff. I love to write about a character dynamic. And not all of my life is going to be as kind of complex as these intricate webs of characters on TV shows and movies.

There was a time when it was. That’s amazing.

But is the idea that as your own life becomes less dramatic, you’ll need to pull ideas from other places? I don’t feel like that yet. I think I might feel like that possibly when I have a family. If I have a family. [Pauses] I don’t know why I said that! But that’s what I’ve heard from other artists, that they were very protective of their personal life, so they had to draw inspiration from other things. But again, I don’t know why I said that. Because I don’t know how my life is going to go or what I’m going to do. But right now, I feel like it’s easier for me to write than it ever was.

You don’t talk about your relationship, but you’ll sing about it in wildly revealing detail. What’s the difference for you? Singing about something helps you to express it in a way that feels more accurate. You cannot, no matter what, put words in a quote and have it move someone the same way as if you heard those words with the perfect sonic representation of that feeling... There is that weird conflict in being a confessional songwriter and then also having my life, you know, 10 years ago, be catapulted into this strange pop-culture thing.

I’ve heard you say that people got too interested in which song was about who, which I can understand — at the same time, to be fair, it was a game you played into, wasn’t it? I realized very early on that no matter what, that was going to happen to me regardless. So when you realize the rules of the game you’re playing and how it will affect you, you got to look at the board and make your strategy. But at the same time, writing songs has never been a strategic element of my career. But I’m not scared anymore to say that other things in my career, like how to market an album, are strictly strategic. And I’m sick of women not being able to say that they have strategic business minds — because male artists are allowed to. And so I’m sick and tired of having to pretend like I don’t mastermind my own business. But, it’s a different part of my brain than I use to write.

You’ve been masterminding your business since you were a teenager. Yeah, but I’ve also tried very hard — and this is one thing I regret — to convince people that I wasn’t the one holding the puppet strings of my marketing existence, or the fact that I sit in a conference room several times a week and come up with these ideas. I felt for a very long time that people don’t want to think of a woman in music who isn’t just a happy, talented accident. We’re all forced to kind of be like, “Aw, shucks, this happened again! We’re still doing well! Aw, that’s so great.” Alex Morgan celebrating scoring a goal at the World Cup and getting shit for it is a perfect example of why we’re not allowed to flaunt or celebrate, or reveal that, like, “Oh, yeah, it was me. I came up with this stuff.” I think it’s really unfair. People love new female artists so much because they’re able to explain that woman’s success. There’s an easy trajectory. Look at the Game of Thrones finale. I specifically really related to Daenerys’ storyline because for me it portrayed that it is a lot easier for a woman to attain power than to maintain it.

I mean, she did murder... It’s a total metaphor! Like, obviously I didn’t want Daenerys to become that kind of character, but in taking away what I chose to take away from it, I thought maybe they’re trying to portray her climbing the ladder to the top was a lot easier than maintaining it, because for me, the times when I felt like I was going insane was when I was trying to maintain my career in the same way that I ascended. It’s easier to get power than to keep it. It’s easier to get acclaim than to keep it. It’s easier to get attention than to keep it.

Well, I guess we should be glad you didn’t have a dragon in 2016... [Fiercely] I told you I don’t like that she did that! But, I mean, watching the show, though, maybe this is a reflection on how we treat women in power, how we are totally going to conspire against them and tear at them until they feel this — this insane shift, where you wonder, like, “What changed?” And I’ve had that happen, like, 60 times in my career where I’m like, “OK, you liked me last year, what changed? I guess I’ll change so I can keep entertaining you guys.”

You once said that your mom could never punish you when you were little because you’d punish yourself. This idea of changing in the face of criticism and needing approval — that’s all part of wanting to be good, right? Whatever that means. But that seems to be a real driving force in your life. Yeah, that’s definitely very perceptive of you. And the question posed to me is, if you kept trying to do good things, but everyone saw those things in a cynical way and assumed them to be done with bad motivation and bad intent, would you still do good things, even though nothing that you did was looked at as good? And the answer is, yes. Criticism that’s constructive is helpful to my character growth. Baseless criticism is stuff I’ve got to toss out now.

That sounds healthy. Is this therapy talking or is this just experience? No, I’ve never been to therapy. I talk to my mom a lot, because my mom is the one who’s seen everything. God, it takes so long to download somebody on the last 29 years of my life, and my mom has seen it all. She knows exactly where I’m coming from. And we talk endlessly. There were times when I used to have really, really, really bad days where we would just be on the phone for hours and hours and hours. I’d write something that I wanted to say, and instead of posting it, I’d just read it to her.

I somehow connect all this to the lyric in “Daylight,” the idea of “so many lines that I’ve crossed unforgiven” — it’s a different kind of confession. I am really glad you liked that line, because that’s something that does bother me, looking back at life and realizing that no matter what, you screw things up. Sometimes there are people that were in your life and they’re not anymore — and there’s nothing you can do about it. You can’t fix it, you can’t change it. I told the fans last night that sometimes on my bad days, I feel like my life is a pile of crap accumulated of only the bad headlines or the bad things that have happened, or the mistakes I’ve made or clichés or rumors or things that people think about me or have thought for the last 15 years. And that was part of the “Look What You Made Me Do” music video, where I had a pile of literal old selves fighting each other.

But, yeah, that line is indicative of my anxiety about how in life you can’t get everything right. A lot of times you make the wrong call, make the wrong decision. Say the wrong thing. Hurt people, even if you didn’t mean to. You don’t really know how to fix all of that. When it’s, like, 29 years’ worth.

To be Mr. “Rolling Stone” for a second, there’s a Springsteen lyric, “Ain’t no one leaving this world, buddy/Without their shirttail dirty or hands a little bloody.” That’s really good! No one gets through it unscathed. No one gets through in one piece. I think that’s a hard thing for a lot of people to grasp. I know it was hard for me, because I kind of grew up thinking, “If I’m nice, and if I try to do the right thing, you know, maybe I can just, like, ace this whole thing.” And it turns out I can’t.

It’s interesting to look at “I Did Something Bad” in this context. You pointing that out is really interesting because it’s something I’ve had to reconcile within myself in the last couple of years — that sort of “good” complex. Because from the time I was a kid I’d try to be kind, be a good person. Try really hard. But you get walked all over sometimes. And how do you respond to being walked all over? You can’t just sit there and eat your salad and let it happen. “I Did Something Bad” was about doing something that was so against what I would usually do. Katy [Perry] and I were talking about our signs. . . . [Laughs] Of course we were.

That’s the greatest sentence ever. [Laughs] I hate you. We were talking about our signs because we had this really, really long talk when we were reconnecting and stuff. And I remember in the long talk, she was like, “If we had one glass of white wine right now, we’d both be crying.” Because we were drinking tea. We’ve had some really good conversations.

We were talking about how we’ve had miscommunications with people in the past, not even specifically with each other. She’s like, “I’m a Scorpio. Scorpios just strike when they feel threatened.” And I was like, “Well, I’m an archer. We literally stand back, assess the situation, process how we feel about it, raise a bow, pull it back, and fire.” So it’s completely different ways of processing pain, confusion, misconception. And oftentimes I’ve had this delay in feeling something that hurts me and then saying that it hurts me. Do you know what I mean? And so I can understand how people in my life would have been like, “Whoa, I didn’t know that was how you felt.” Because it takes me a second.

If you watch the video of the 2009 VMAs, I literally freeze. I literally stand there. And that is how I handle any discomfort, any pain. I stand there, I freeze. And then five minutes later, I know how I feel. But in the moment, I’m probably overreacting and I should be nice. Then I process it, and in five minutes, if it’s gone, it’s past, and I’m like, “I was overreacting, everything’s fine. I can get through this. I’m glad I didn’t say anything harsh in the moment.” But when it’s actually something bad that happened, and I feel really, really hurt or upset about it, I only know after the fact. Because I’ve tried so hard to squash it: “This probably isn’t what you think.” That’s something I had to work on.

You could end up gaslighting yourself. Yeah, for sure. ’Cause so many situations where if I would have said the first thing that came to my mind, people would have been like, “Whoa!” And maybe I would have been wrong or combative. So a couple of years ago I started working on actually just responding to my emotions in a quicker fashion. And it’s really helped with stuff. It’s helped so much because sometimes you get in arguments. But conflict in the moment is so much better than combat after the fact.

Well, thanks. I do feel like I just did a therapy session. As someone who’s never been to therapy, I can safely say that was the best therapy session.

#uhhhh #just by copying and editing text I see it's gonna be good =) #can't wait... #taylor swift #interview #by taylor #lover era #Rolling Stone magazine #Brian Hiatt