#real question though is who else is going to the london gig | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dailytomlinson · 3 years

Link

While many artists would jump at the chance to tell you how lockdown has been a fruitful opportunity for self-improvement, full of pseudo self-help books and pompous podcasts, former One Directioner Louis Tomlinson is adamant that he has done, well, nothing.

“I’ve just watched loads of s___ TV,” he says after a long pause. “The Undoing is decent, isn’t it?”

Twenty-eight--year-old Tomlinson from Doncaster was always the down-to-earth Directioner, frequently describing himself as fringe member who spent more time analysing the band’s contracts than singing solos, known for chain-smoking his way through several packs of cigarettes a day and swearing like a trooper. A rarity, these days, among millennials who’d rather suck on a stem of kale and tweet about their #blessings.

The gig means a great deal to Tomlinson, whose first ever tour as a solo artist, to promote his debut solo album WALLS, was cut short back in March after just two concerts in Spain and Mexico. It was an album he’d spent five years working on: a guitar-led project that ruptured with the preppy pop anthems of One Direction, inspired instead by Tomlinson’s love for Britpop.

No doubt he was anxious to get it right following a decade “grown in test tubes”, as Harry Styles once described the band’s formation on the X Factor, where they came third before going on to make a reported $280,000 a day as the most successful band in the world. The pressure, too, was intense: all four bandmates had already released their own solo debuts.

Was he left reeling, I ask, unable to perform at such a crucial moment?

“The thing that I always enjoyed the most about One Direction was playing the shows, so my master plan, when I realised I was going to do a solo career, was always my first tour. It’s something I’ve been looking forward to for the best part of five years now. I got so close, I got a taste for it, and it’s affected me like everyone else, but I’m forever an optimist,” he says down the phone, with what I can only imagine to be a rather phlegmatic shrug.

Sure, I say, but the last year can’t have been easy. Didn’t he feel like his purpose had popped?

“You know what,” he says, reflecting, “maybe because I’ve had real dark moments in my life, they’ve given me scope for optimism. In the grand scheme of things, of what I’ve experienced, these everyday problems...they don’t seem so bad.”

Tomlinson is referring to losing his 43-year-old mother, a midwife, to leukemia in 2016, and his 18-year-old sister Felicite, a model, to an accidental drug overdose in 2018. The double tragedy is something he has been open about on his own terms, dedicating his single, Two of Us, from WALLS, to his mother Johannah, while often checking in with fans who have lost members of their own family.

It’s not unusual for Tomlinson to ask his 34.9 million followers if they’re doing alright, receiving hundreds of thousands of personal replies. It’s not something he will discuss in interviews, however, after he slammed BBC Breakfast for shamelessly probing his trauma in February this year. “Never going back there again,” he tweeted after coming off the show.

“Social media is a ruthless, toxic place, so I don’t like to spend much time there,” says Tomlinson, “but because of experiencing such light and shade all while I was famous, I have a very deep connection with my fans. They’ve always been there for me.”

In return, Tomlinson is good to them. Last month he even promised some new music, saying that he’d written four songs in four days. Does this mean that a second album is on the way?

“Yeah, definitely,” he says. “I’m very, very excited. I had basically penciled down a plan before corona took over our lives. And now it's kind of given me a little bit of time to really get into what I want to say and what I want things to sound like. Because, you know, I was really proud of my first record, but there were moments that I felt were truer to me than others. I think that there were some songs where I took slightly more risk and owned what I love, saying, ‘This is who I want to be’. So I want to take a leaf out of their book.”

Fans might think he’s referring to writing more heartfelt autobiographical content such as Two of Us, but in fact, he’s referring specifically to rock-inspired Kill My Mind, he says, the first song on WALLS. “There’s a certain energy in that song, in its delivery, in its attitude, that I want to recreate. People are struggling at the moment, so I want to create a raucous, exciting atmosphere in my live show, not a somber, thoughtful one.”

He sighs, trying to articulate something that’s clearly been playing on his mind for a while. “You know, because of my story, my album was a little heavy at times and a little somber. And as I'm sure you're aware, from talking to me, now, that isn't who I am.”

It must be draining, I say, the weight of expectation in both the media and across his fanbase, to be a spokesperson for grief and hardship. To have tragedy prelude everything he does and says.

“Honestly, it’s part of being from Doncaster as well, I don’t like people feeling sorry for me. That’s the last thing I want.”

Too many incredible memories to mention but not a day goes by that I don't think about how amazing it was. @NiallOfficial @Harry_Styles @LiamPayne @zaynmalik . So proud of you all individually.

The problem is, says Tomlinson, he doesn’t have the best imagination. “I have interesting things to say musically, but what’s challenging from a writing perspective is that I write from the heart, and I can’t really get into someone else’s story. And right now, being stuck at home, you have so little experience to draw from. It’s actually quite hard to write these positive, uplifting songs, because actually, the experiences that you're going through on a day to day basis, you know, you they don't have that same flavour.”

There is something that’s helping, though: a secret spot near Los Angeles, where he divides his time. “It’s remote and kind of weird, and I’m going to go there for three days and write. I don’t know why I’m so drawn to it. I found it via a YouTube video. It’s got some very interesting locals who live there, it’s sort of backwards when it comes to technology. It feels like you’re going back in time when you’re there. But I don’t want to give it away.”

Another source of inspiration for his second album is the Red Hot Chili Peppers’ back catalogue. “I grew up on their album Bytheway. And during lockdown I've been knee deep in their stuff. I’ve watched every documentary, every video. And I find their lead guitarist John Frusciante just fascinating.”

Has he spoken to Frusicante?

“I f______ wish,” snorts Tomlinson.

Surely someone as well-known as Tomlinson could easily get in touch?

“No, honestly, I think he’s too cool for that. He’s not into that kind of thing.”

Tomlinson’s passion for all things rock is also spurring on a side hustle he picked up as a judge on the X Factor in 2018: managing an all-female rock band via his own imprint on Simon Cowell’s Syco label. While the group disbanded before releasing their first single, and Tomlinson split from Syco earlier this year, the singer is keen to nurture some more talent.

“I'm not gonna lie, my process with my imprint through Syco, it became challenging and it became frustrating at times,” Tomlinson says a little wearily. “The kind of artists that I was interested in developing – because I genuinely feel through my experience in One Direction, you know, one of the biggest f______ bands, I feel like I've learned a lot about the industry – they weren’t ready-made. So I had lots of artists that I took through the door that were rough and ready, but major labels want to see something that works straight away. I found that a little bit demotivating. I love her and she's an incredible artist, but not everyone is a Taylor Swift.”

Tomlinson spends much of his free time scouting new talent either on YouTube, Reddit or BBC Introducing – he’s currently a huge fan of indie Brighton band, Fickle Friends. His dream is to manage an all-female band playing instruments. “Because there's no one in that space. And I know eventually if I don't do it, someone else will!”

Before he drives off to rehearsals, we chatter about how much he's been practising his guitar playing, and how he can't wait to take the whole team working at his favourite grassroots venue, The Dome in Doncaster, out ice-skating after he performs there on his rescheduled tour. “Because I've got skills,” he says, and I can hear his chest puff.

And then I ask the question every retired member of One Direction has been batting off ever since they broke up in 2015, after Zayn Malik quit. Rumours that his bandmates saw him as a Judas went wild after some eagle eyes fans noticed they’d unfollowed him on Instagram. Payne, Tomlinson, Horan and Styles have barely mentioned him since. Recently, however, they re-followed him, and Payne has teased that a One Direction reunion is on the cards.

So: might 2021 be the year of resurrection?

“I thought you were going to ask something juicier!” say Tomlinson witheringly. “Look, I f______ love One Direction. I'm sure we're going to come back together one day, and I'll be doing a couple of One Direction songs in my gig. I always do that, so that's not alluding to any reunion or anything. But, I mean, look, I'm sure one day we'll get back together, because, you know, we were f______ great.”

#telegraph uk #press #louis tomlinson #241120 #its FULL of stunts as telegraph usually goes #stunt mention #Eleanor Halls

273 notes · View notes

louistomlinsoncouk · 3 years

Link

“I’ve just watched loads of s___ TV,” he says after a long pause. “The Undoing is decent, isn’t it?”

Far from aimless, however, today the singer is full of beans, cheerily shushing his barking dog as he potters about his North London home where he lives with his best friend from home, Oli, and his girlfriend, the model Eleanor Calder.

Was he left reeling, I ask, unable to perform at such a crucial moment?

Sure, I say, but the last year can’t have been easy. Didn’t he feel like his purpose had popped?

In return, Tomlinson is good to them. Last month he even promised some new music, saying that he’d written four songs in four days. Does this mean that a second album is on the way?

It must be draining, I say, the weight of expectation in both the media and across his fanbase, to be a spokesperson for grief and hardship. To have tragedy prelude everything he does and says.

“Honestly, it’s part of being from Doncaster as well, I don’t like people feeling sorry for me. That’s the last thing I want.”

There is something that’s helping, though: a secret spot near Los Angeles, where he divides his time to see his four-year-old son, Freddie, whom he shares with his ex Briana Jungwirth, a stylist. “It’s remote and kind of weird, and I’m going to go there for three days and write. I don’t know why I’m so drawn to it. I found it via a YouTube video. It’s got some very interesting locals who live there, it’s sort of backwards when it comes to technology. It feels like you’re going back in time when you’re there. But I don’t want to give it away.”

Has he spoken to Frusicante?

“I f______ wish,” snorts Tomlinson.

Surely someone as well-known as Tomlinson could easily get in touch?

“No, honestly, I think he’s too cool for that. He’s not into that kind of thing.”

So: might 2021 be the year of resurrection?

#louis tomlinson #24nov20

121 notes · View notes

hlupdate · 3 years

Link

“I’ve just watched loads of s___ TV,” he says after a long pause. “The Undoing is decent, isn’t it?”

Far from aimless, however, today the singer is full of beans, cheerily shushing his barking dog as he potters about his North London home where he lives with his best friend from home, Oli, [...].

Was he left reeling, I ask, unable to perform at such a crucial moment?

Sure, I say, but the last year can’t have been easy. Didn’t he feel like his purpose had popped?

In return, Tomlinson is good to them. Last month he even promised some new music, saying that he’d written four songs in four days. Does this mean that a second album is on the way?

It must be draining, I say, the weight of expectation in both the media and across his fanbase, to be a spokesperson for grief and hardship. To have tragedy prelude everything he does and says.

“Honestly, it’s part of being from Doncaster as well, I don’t like people feeling sorry for me. That’s the last thing I want.”

There is something that’s helping, though: a secret spot near Los Angeles, [...] “It’s remote and kind of weird, and I’m going to go there for three days and write. I don’t know why I’m so drawn to it. I found it via a YouTube video. It’s got some very interesting locals who live there, it’s sort of backwards when it comes to technology. It feels like you’re going back in time when you’re there. But I don’t want to give it away.”

Has he spoken to Frusicante?

“I f______ wish,” snorts Tomlinson.

Surely someone as well-known as Tomlinson could easily get in touch?

“No, honestly, I think he’s too cool for that. He’s not into that kind of thing.”

So: might 2021 be the year of resurrection?

#louis tomlinson #241120 #lt livestream #e and f mentions from the journalist removed where there is [...]#nothing altered from louis #stunt mention #at the link

101 notes · View notes

angrylizardjacket · 3 years

Text

runs in the family // charlotte&lola (penny&jupiter)

Summary: Jupiter and Penny somehow find themselves in 1981. What else is there to do but meet their moms at Motley Crue's first gig?

A/N: as always, for @misscharlottelee and eva ill edit this and tag u when I find ur new url. @compositionnotebook 💖 why did I write this? Because I love to suffer. Also as always, unedited.

----

Of course, waking up in a hotel room they don’t remember, with their cousin asleep in the other bed, only to realise that they’re back in LA when they’re meant to be on the other side of the country in the middle of their tour, Jupiter was understandably panicked. They hadn’t been drinking last night, and they’re pretty sure there was no way of them getting across the country without realising, and the idea that something is up is solidified when Penny wakes up and starts panicking too.

The front desk says they’re paid up for the month; the woman’s hair is sand blonde, feathered and sprayed up to the high heavens, while the uniform she wears is the ugliest shade of green Jupiter’s ever laid eyes on, but the woman has the gall to give Jupiter’s outfit an unimpressed look. They’re all for the current resurgence in 80s fashion trends, but it feels like this woman may have committed too hard to the bit. Jupiter, nonetheless, asks the woman if she remembers how they and Penny had arrived, and the woman actually rolls her eyes and says that she’s not paid to ask nosy questions.

It takes the cousins a full hour to find out that somehow they’ve landed themselves in 1981, a full day to believe it, and a full week to fully understand what that means.

“I hate this, I want to do something, go somewhere,” Friday night and Jupiter’s sick to death of no TV and only the radio for entertainment. Whoever had been staying here, whoever’s place they and Penny had taken, had left a wallet with no ID, but an exorbitant amount of cash, and a closet full of clothes in their sizes. It’s eerie as fuck, but the only person who’s come knocking was the housekeeping staff, and Jupiter tells them to go away every time.

“We are near The Strip in the eighties,” Penny suggests, flicking through a newspaper idly, lounging on the bed, “what if we saw young Guns ‘n’ Roses live, or, oh God, what about Motley, could you imagine?” Penny snorted, and Jupiter’s whole expression wrinkles to something horrified.

“They weren’t around yet, were they? What’s the date?”

“April twenty-fourth,” Penny’s expression sobers considerably from it’s delight, adding, “nineteen eighty-one,” much quieter, “fuck.”

They agree to go out, if only to get out of the room they’d been hiding from the world in, rather terrified to face their reality. There’s hesitation; do they get dressed up? Do they use the makeup sitting neatly on the bathroom counter? It felt safer to try and blend in, but blending in with the 80s nightlife wasn’t exactly the easiest thing in the world.

Both have the distinct, horrifying thought of ‘I look like my mother’ when they’re finished, looking in the mirror, all dark makeup and patterned jeans and leather jackets; there’s a leather miniskirt that neither of them touch, not wanting to go too hard on their first night in the apparent real world. There’s a half empty bottle of hairspray on the counter that they both eye dubiously.

“It would be weirder if we didn’t spray up our hair, right?” Penny says, and Jupiter feels distinctly like a teenager, uncertain, awkward, not quite sure of their style, rather than the early-30s successful musician they were.

It doesn’t end up looking good, at least not to their 2020 sensibilities, but as they make their way down to the street, a woman in leopard print gushes over how good they both look.

It’s sunset, with people looking just as out there are the out-of-time cousins, band posters and flyers plastered to every wall, every telephone pole, every surface available as they walked the six blocks to The Strip. It takes only the ten minute walk from their shitty little hotel, to the Whiskey-A-Go-Go, for the reality it of it all to settle in Jupiter’s stomach like they’d swallowed ice. More specifically, it takes right up until they’re standing on the corner by the Whiskey, Penelope’s eye caught by one of the flyers on the nearby telephone pole, for Jupiter to think to look across the street at the rundown apartment complex that they realise they already know of.

They gaze upon the window of one of the apartments on the second floor, with, even at this distance, a visibly fist-sized hole, gaff-taped up through the window. Jupiter knows that window, even as Penelope’s calling their name insistently.

“It’s April Twenty-Fourth, right?” Penny calls, dubiously, and Jupiter says something about how that’s what she’d said back at the hotel, not paying attention.

“First ever rehearsal we had for the band, I didn’t even see your mom, she was out somewhere, the gym I think, but before she’d gone, she and Nikki had a fight and she put her whole fist through the window; I thought they were the coolest people I’d ever met.”

Tommy’s voice floats through Jupiter’s mind as they finally turn to Penny, to her insistent tone, only to step back, as if burned by the very sight of the Motley Crue poster. Penny was holding one corner in a fist, eyes wide. Tonight. The Starwood.

“No.” Jupiter didn’t even let her get an word in edgewise, but Penny shook the poster more intently.

“We have to,” she implored, though Jupiter was now adamantly shaking their head.

“We have to do no such thing,” Jupiter crossed their arms, cocking a hip. Turning their nose in the air at the poster, they accidently catch a glimpse of what they’re pretty sure is their mom’s apartment, and their expression reflexively wrinkles.

“What if my mom’s there?” Penny says quietly, and oh God damn it, there’s no way Jupiter could say no to that. The walk from the Whiskey to the Starwood is a good half an hour, and they’re both just glad to have opted for the flat shoes they’d brought from the future, rather than risked any of the platforms or heels that were lined up neatly at the bottom of the closet they’d raided. There’s a Motley poster ever few feet, and while dread had settled in Jupiter’s stomach, Penny was buzzing beside them nervously.

The Starwood had closed only months after Motley’s first performance, but both Jupiter and Penny had heard their family lovingly reminisce about it, with photos from the night, from nights before and after, so it strangely felt like they’d been there before, looking at the club’s name up in shining lights, Motley Crue headlining the night just below.

“Isn’t that the guy from Rock Candy?” There’s two dudes a few feet away, squinting at another poster for the band, then looking up to the sign, both of them in leather jackets and flared jeans.

“Dude, fuck, that’s the guy from London, last gig he played, he broke the singer’s jaw!” The second dude, delights, already tugging his friend towards the club where people were already filtering in.

“No man, their roadie broke the singer’s nose after he knocked out two of the bass player’s teeth on stage -”

It was so strange to hear misinformation spread so casually about people both Jupiter and Penny knew so well; they’d both heard the story of the night Tommy and Charlotte had met Nikki and Lola, how London had a small fight on stage that ended up giving Nikki a bloody nose, and how Lola had knocked out two of the singer’s teeth the in alley behind the bar after the gig. But here, now, it was like it’s own kind of folklore.

They follow the men inside.

No-one check their IDs, thank God, their own wallets hadn’t travelled back in time with them. The bouncer lets them pass without issue, and Jupiter is strangely reminded of their age as they see the people around them, a majority in their early to mid-20s, all looking right at home in leather and black denim. It’s still fairly quiet, the stage looking only half set up with a few clusters of people milling around the bar. There’s two people on the stage, setting it up, but with their backs turned, but they’re not exactly recognisable, long blonde hair and dark hair respectively, though the dark-haired one is in a distinctively spiked jacket. Closer to them, however is, a pretty red-head sat at the end, all tight clothes and effortless elegance, one leg crossed over the other where she was lounging against the bar on her barstool, a beer in one hand. Something about her is so familiar.

Jupiter and Penny carefully sit themselves by the bar too, a few seats away from the red-head, looking around but not quite processing it all. They’re at Motley Crue’s first show.

Jupiter’s squinting at the row of drinks behind the bar, trying to decide what to order, when Penny grabs their hand so hard it hurts. Before they can turn back, however, they hear a voice they’ve only ever heard recordings of.

“Aw, Eileen, so nice of you to get me a drink,” Charlotte Lee’s tone was all teasing and light as she took the bottle out of the redhead - Eileen’s - hand, taking a sip as Eileen herself rolled her eyes.

“Lola is a terrible influence on you,” Eileen said flatly. Penny’s nails were digging into Jupiter’s forearm. Charlotte hands the drink back with a fond twinkle in her eyes.

“Lola hasn’t paid for a drink in her life, so I happen to think she’s a great influence-”

“She only drinks for free because she’s blackmailing half the bartenders in town,” the bartender himself piped up, cracking open a beer and handing it over to Charlotte without her even having to ask, flashing a grin that’s all teeth, “you ladies drink for free because I like making pretty girls smile.”

“Ricky, you’re the one who keeps hitting on her,” Charlotte points out, and his expression falls almost comically fast; “you keep taking her back to your place.”

“Only ‘cos she lives with Nikki and I don’t feel like being fucking stabbed in my sleep,” Ricky counters, pouting and flustered, his arms crossed over his chest.

“That’s definitely fair, but it’s not Lola’s fault you’re embarrassed about having a nun fetish,” Eileen’s tone is unbothered in the fact of Ricky’s embarrassment, though her lips twitch in the barest amuse smile as she adds, “Father Richard,” and Ricky turns scarlet as Charlotte spits half her mouthful of beer as a laugh escapes her.

Jupiter can feel their heart beat in their throw. This is so real, what the fuck.

“Can we help you?” And then Eileen’s looking directly at Penny and Jupiter, who realise that they’re staring at the women by the bar, eyes wide like they’d seen a ghost. Ha. She’s got a single, perfect eyebrow raised, shifting in a way that’s barely noticible, but so clearly confrontational, like a cat’s fur raising even when a cat doesn’t move.

“Charlotte Lee,” there’s a wobble in Penny’s voice when she finally speaks, and Jupiter can feel the way her hand’s trembling, “that makes... that makes you Eileen -” and she swallows hard, editing the last name she knows so well for the one that Eileen would have had in 1981, “Austen.”

Charlotte and Eileen share a look, and then look back to Penelope.

“Wait right here,” Charlotte sounds delighted, actually addressing Penny with a hand out.

“How do you guys know who we are?” Eileen asks, as Charlotte takes off towards the stage. Penny moves instinctively to follow her, but Jupiter holds her in place. There’s something in the evaluative look she gives them, lip curling just a little, on edge at being stared at by two strangers who must be roughly a decade older than them, who seem to already know them. “Are you friends of Lola’s?” She asks dubiously, and Jupiter is fighting the urge to run.

“Our little brother went to high school with you both,” Penny blurts out, “he was in the year above you,” but something seems to ease about Eileen’s posture as Penny tells her the exact school, and the year she and Charlotte would have graduated. It’s too specific for Eileen to think they’re lying, and for that both Jupiter and Penny are glad.

For all that Penny is Charlotte and Razzle's daughter, she was still raised, at least in part, by Lola, arguably the best liar of her generation. All the various Lee-Dingley-Sixx children had some innate ability to convincingly lie through their teeth, and though it didn't come in handy for Penny nearly as much as it seemingly did Jupiter, she was never more grateful for that skill than she was now.

“False alarm, Charlie, their brother went to school with us,” Eileen calls out, just as Charlotte is returning, dragging a dark haired woman both Jupiter and Penny knew far too well.

Seeing Charlotte at first had been so overwhelming that they hadn’t really processed what she’d looked like, but now, standing next to who could only be Lola, in 1981, it hit Jupiter just how young they both were.

Lola’s still shorter than her own child, but taller than Jupiter remembers her ever being, curtesy of her intimidating platform boots, leather and buckles and spikes, a good match for her spiked leather jacket and studded bralette. She’s all sprayed up hair, larger than life, dark eyeshadow, and fishnets, somehow wearing so much and not at all at the same time.

Beside her, Charlotte is only a few inches shorter, hair just as high, still with dark makeup, looking like a beautiful middle ground between Lola’s intimidating intensity and Eileen’s high glamour. In flashy denim pants and an artfully ripped, hand painted Motley Crue shirt, Charlotte’s the picture of the eighties, as beautiful and bright as any photo or recording Penny and Jupiter had ever seen.

Charlotte’s expression falls with disappointment, but before she can speak -

“You’re twenty-two!” Jupiter hears themselves say, and Lola looks directly at them, lip curling. Jupiter’s blood runs ice cold.

“What?” The single word is so derisive in a voice that Jupiter has never known to be cold, and before anyone else can speak, Lola looks to Charlotte, eyebrow raised. When she crosses her arms over her chest, even the leather jacket can’t completely hide how well muscled her arms are, “Charlie, I love you but I don’t give a shit about two old broads whose brother you knew, we gotta finish setting up.” It hurt like a physical ache, somewhere behind Jupiter’s sternum, each word somehow hurting more than the last.

“Don’t be rude,” Charlotte told her, elbowing her in the ribs, smiling even so.

“I don’t even know my fucking age - who are you?” Lola’s undeterred, on hand holding a roll of gaff tape in a white-knuckled grip, while the other had curled into a fist, weight shifting from one foot to the other in agitation. Okay, that’s very fair, Jupiter regrets ever opening their mouth. Fuck.

“You don’t know how old you are?” Charlotte asks, disbelieving, breaking the tension, and Lola looks back at her, face scrunching up as the tension drops from her shoulders.

“Why would I know my age?”

“Because that’s a very weird thing not to know!” Charlotte exclaimed in disbelief, eyes wide. Jupiter, on the other hand, wracked their brains for any scrap of knowledge they’d heard about their mother’s past and actually retained.

“Sorry, we know we’re being weird,” eyes closed, they took a deep breath, trying to sort out their thoughts, “our brother Leo went to school with Charlotte and Eileen, but we... talked to a band you roadied for, and they told us roughly how old you were, but you look,” Jupiter pauses, cracking open their eyes, only to see the way Lola's expression had softened upon hearing the name Leo - oh fuck, she doesn't even know the truth about her own dad yet! -“younger than I expected.”

“I’m used to Lola being recognised around here, just got my hopes up that it was my turn,” Charlotte admits with the faintest embarrassment, picking her drink up from the bar and taking a sip.

“One day soon, Charlie, if the boys take off, we’ll be right beside ‘em; everyone in LA will know your name,” the way Lola says it is strangely wry, like she’s self aware of the fact that her own name is out there for some less than reputable reasons, or like she isn’t fully convinced that Motley Crue would be the runaway success they all hoped.

Jupiter and Penny share a look, pained by the dramatic irony the three women across from them couldn’t even begin to comprehend.

It takes a moment, and Lola is definitely still a bit wary, but then it passes, and Lola looks to the stage again, still clearly addressing Charlotte.

"If you wanna help me with the last bit, I just need to do a sound check.” And with that, she was off, and Jupiter lets out a breath that hadn’t realised they’d been holding. Penny is still staring at Charlotte, who's rocking back on her heel as she has another drink, contemplating going after Lola, but also intrigued but the two interlopers enough to stay.

Eileen asks their names.

Penny and Jupiter share a panicked look, because they can't just tell the truth, it would make things weird in the future! What if they end up in the present named something entirely new!? They hadn't even begun to consider the butterfly effect of their being here.

"Lisa?" Jupiter says finally, picking a name they'd used in the past, but not for long, a nickname derived from their birth name in honour of their grandmother. Eileen looks wildly unconvinced, but Charlotte, bright and kind and perfect and alive, tells them its pretty. Penny is struggling to come up with an alternative, before conceding that her nickname is probably common enough that it wouldn't really matter.

"Penny's such a pretty name," Charlotte beams, and tells them its lovely to meet them, and Jupiter rests a gentle hand on their cousin's back, a silent reminder to keep breathing, as Charlotte trots off to help Lola with the last of the sound check.

Jupiter orders them both several drinks.

They end up sitting at the other end of the bar, away from the spot Eileen has clearly claimed for herself and Motley Crue's glorified roadies. Penny is quietly trying not to hyperventilate every time she thinks too hard about what's happening, and made a muffled scream upon hearing Charlotte laugh at one of Lola's jokes.

"I've died, Jup, we've died and this is the afterlife because that is my fucking mother, and she's alive, and she's twenty-one goddamn years old. She is a child. Our mothers are children. What the fuck?!" Penny hissed, and took another sip of her drink. Jup was watching Lola, so young and confident and mean as all hell, a defensive mechanism that's only made apparent to be such because Jupiter's known her longer than this version of Lola's been alive. But she smiles around Charlotte and Eileen in a way Jupiter's never seen her smile before, something grateful and adoring at the corners of her lips, an unfamiliar kind of softness in her eyes for just the barest moment.

Lola smiles like she feels lucky to be here, to be around these women, to call them friends. Here and now it hits Jupiter hard, that even decades later, their mother never fully recovered from losing Charlotte.

"We're not dead," Jupiter tells their cousin softly, and they both watch Lola and Charlotte head back to the green room before the band begins.

"But I- how, explain then, how can I go over there and touch her? She's real, Jup, really real, my mother, Charlotte Lee."

"I can't explain it, it just is," Jupiter muses, and finishes of their next drink as Lola and Charlotte reappear, followed by the band, all looking far too young and overeager, and Jupiter's heart is beating in their throat as Tommy Lee beams and waves to the crowd. They're going to be sick. Or maybe cry. Or maybe have a full panic attack right here by the bar. Fucking hell he's even more of a child than Charlotte, only twenty, and just as bright and excitable as they've known him to be, possibly moreso.

The audience seems underwhelmed, not sure what to make of these boys with their leather and hairspray and nervous excitement; Vince introduces them to the quiet bar with a yell, and Jupiter kind of hates that their future step-dad is giving them gender envy.

And then Tommy knocks over his cymbal after showing off with his drumsticks, and Jupiter bursts into tears.

They're furious at themselves for crying, hand pressed to their mouth for fear of anyone hearing if they would sob, brow furrowed into a scowl, other hand messily wiping at their eyes as they mouth defiant swears against their palm. People are jeering and booing, and out of the corner of their eye, Jupiter sees Charlotte actively holding Lola back, and something deep inside their heart knows that if there wasn't stupid fucking tears in their eyes, they'd be just as ready to defend the band's honour as their mom is.

"Oh, he's always been like this-" Penny's voice is softly adoring as she watches the man who will one day be her uncle and adopted father, before she looks to Jupiter, sees them overwhelmed with it all, and mad at themselves for feeling that, and she laughs, gentle and kind and understanding, and wraps Jupiter up in a hug. Its grounding. Even as Jupiter sulkily tells her to fuck off, they wrap an arm around Penny's shoulders and press their face into her hair.

"He looks like you," Penny murmurs as the first song starts, despite the negativity still pouring from the crowd. Jupiter wrinkles their nose, but can't help but smile. Tommy looks incredibly cool tonight, and it's true that Jupiter had inherited a lot of physical characteristics from their father.

Everyone in the bar hears the jeering way a dude in the audience asks about the 'chick singer', and for a moment, the children unwittingly mirror their mothers as Penny's grip on Jupiter tightens, anticipating when they go to lunge for the stage in outrage, but the moment the guy spits on Vince, across the bar Charlotte let's go of Lola, setting her loose on the vitriolic patrons.

Penny and Jupiter knew Motley's first gig started with a fight, but it was another thing to witness it.

Tommy leaps into the crowd, delighted by the carnage that Nikki and Vince are already taking part in, and Lola’s already knocked a guy flat on his ass. Surprisingly, Charlotte lobs her half-empty bottle at the guy who had spat at Vince, not taking direct part, but not abstaining either, cackling when it shatters against him and he's looking around, angry and confused, and Eileen says her name with a tone thats both scandalised and impressed.

In the end, by the time the bouncers step in, all that's left is Tommy absolutely wailing on a dude, and much to everyone's surprise, most of all her child's, little Lola Gone wraps her arms around Tommy's chest, cops a full elbow to the face, and still hauls him up and off his victim like he weighs nothing, even as he's thrashing and swearing and telling her to go fuck herself before realising who it is. When she puts him down, she snarls something at him, and shoves him towards the stage.

By the bar, Jupiter's mouth is agape, while Penny is trying to hold in her laughter, both of them realising just how terrifyingly similar to their father Jupiter actually is. And that at Twenty-Two, Lola is built like a tank.

The things you never truly understand about your parents because you always think of them as your parents is wild.

But above all, in the wake of the small riot, Jupiter and Penny can only feel a strange and overwhelming pride, seeing how eagerly they'd all defended each other.

"Fuck yeah, Motley Crue!" Leaves Penny's lips, delighted, at the top of her lungs, and suddenly the eyes of everyone in the bar, and more importantly, the people these two time travelling cousins will call family, forty years from now, fall on them. Grateful. Beaming. Then, laughter; Charlotte’s.

"Fuck yeah!" She echoes her daughter, and a cheer rises around the bar as the band begins playing again, energy revitalised. Charlotte beams at them, sharing in the moment, waving them both over eagerly as the bartender begrudgingly hands over a stack of napkins, while Lola's got her head tipped back, arguing with Eileen as to whether or not her nose is broken as it bleeds profusely.

Even at their first gig, Take Me To The Top sounds good, sounds like it should, all rough and energetic, and Jupiter knows how strange it would be to sing along at the band's first fucking gig, but the song, even now, feels like home.

"Lola, you're a danger to yourself and others," Eileen smirked, "and you're a terrible influence on Charlie."

"Thank you," Lola grins, right as Charlotte tries to deny it, which devolves into Eileen pointing out that Charlotte had lobbed her bottle at one of the offenders, which delighted Lola to no end.

"Don't know if you would know this, not sure how much your brother would have said," Charlotte says, grinning at Jupiter and Penny, "but my cousin, Tommy, he's the one on drums," she says, oozing pride. Jupiter and Penny both bite back on their instinctual responses, but still the surprise reads on their face.

"The one who did this to me," Lola's beaming despite looking a little like a horror movie, sounding only proud.

"He's certainly energetic," Penny says, finally, before letting herself breathe, watching the band for the moment, "they're really good," like she can't quite believe this is all real, still, "they have no idea how huge they're gonna be," the words slip out quite by accident, and both Jup and Penny share a panicked look, but the words don't get the reaction they expected.

"I knew I liked you," Charlotte's grin is sharp and pleased, and before Penny can protest, Charlotte's thrown an arm around her shoulders, "you've got taste." And that's enough incentive for Charlotte to shout both Jup and Penny a drink, oblivious to the way Penny freezes, like a deer in the headlights. Her mother's arm is around her without her mom even knowing how much this means. She looks like she's about to cry.

"Its really good to meet you, Charlie," Penny's voice is strangely hoarse, strangely honest in ways Charlotte can't even begin to understand, and Charlotte gives Penny's shoulder a squeeze.

"You too, Penny, and you, Lisa," she adds, grinning up at Jupiter for a moment, "anyone who thinks good things about my reckless dumbass of a cousin and his band is good in my books." She's so effortlessly earnest and endearing, exactly as everyone had described her, able to make friends wherever she went. Penny tentatively thanks Charlotte when she hands her a drink, and wraps an arm around Charlotte's waist when the younger blonde seemed content with an arm around Penny's shoulders.

"I can't believe you two are the only other assholes with taste," Lola smirks, holding a napkin to her nose.

"Get bent," Jupiter fires off automatically at the vaguely derisive tone, and Lola flips them off while Charlotte shoves her in the ribs. This moment, in its own weird little way, makes sense.

#the angry lizard writes #charlotte&lola #lola & charlotte #motley crue #motley crue imagine

9 notes · View notes

lt2archive · 3 years

Link

The former One Direction star and solo artist reveals his plans to manage woman rock bands, and tackles those pesky One Direction rumours

24 November 2020 • 4:05pm

“I’ve just watched loads of s___ TV,” he says after a long pause. “The Undoing is decent, isn’t it?”

He's getting ready to rehearse an exciting one-off gig that will be live-streamed from a secret London location on December 12, announced today exclusively via the Telegraph. The proceeds of the night will be split across four charities: The Stagehand Covid-19 Crew Relief Fund and Crew Nation, Bluebell Wood Children’s Hospice and Marcus Rashford’s charity FareShare, to help end child poverty. Tomlinson will also be donating money to his own touring crew, many of which have been out of work since March. “I've been incredibly worried about them and felt incredibly powerless, so wanted to give something back.”

The gig also means a great deal to Tomlinson on a personal level. His first ever tour as a solo artist, to promote his debut solo album WALLS, was cut short back in March after just two concerts in Spain and Mexico. It was an album he’d spent five years working on: a guitar-led project that ruptured with the preppy pop anthems of One Direction, inspired instead by Tomlinson’s love for Britpop.

Was he left reeling, I ask, unable to perform at such a crucial moment?

Sure, I say, but the last year can’t have been easy. Didn’t he feel like his purpose had popped?

In return, Tomlinson is good to them. Last month he even promised some new music, saying that he’d written four songs in four days. Does this mean that a second album is on the way?

It must be draining, I say, the weight of expectation in both the media and across his fanbase, to be a spokesperson for grief and hardship. To have tragedy prelude everything he does and says.

“Honestly, it’s part of being from Doncaster as well, I don’t like people feeling sorry for me. That’s the last thing I want.”

Too many incredible memories to mention but not a day goes by that I don't think about how amazing it was. @NiallOfficial @Harry_Styles @LiamPayne @zaynmalik . So proud of you all individually.

Has he spoken to Frusicante?

“I f______ wish,” snorts Tomlinson.

Surely someone as well-known as Tomlinson could easily get in touch?

“No, honestly, I think he’s too cool for that. He’s not into that kind of thing.”

So: might 2021 be the year of resurrection?

Tickets for Louis Tomlinson Live In London are on sale tomorrow from 4pm

#lt live from london #nov. 24 2020 #press #the telegraph #nov 2020

2 notes · View notes

tiesandtea · 4 years

Text

THE LONDON SUEDE - interview with Simon Gilbert (1997)

Interview Featuring Drummer Simon Gilbert, Who Is Actually a Nice Guy Unspoiled by Success

By Daiv Whaley, MOO Mag. Archived here.

One of MOO's many mottos: "When you can't interview the main member of the band, grab the drummer. He's always starved for attention." Daiv Whaley talks with The London Suede’s beatmaster Simon Gilbert.

MOO: Alright, so Suede has returned to the airwaves after a two-year absence with Coming Up. What's different about this one? Simon: Well, it's a lot more direct and easier to listen to than, certainly, Dog Man Star; a lot more rhythm-based ... MOO: Which is great for a drummer! Simon: Oh yeah, it's great for me -- we spent about six weeks just doing the drum tracks; we took a lot more time than we normally do. Plus, it's got a lot of keyboards on it cuz we've got a new keyboard player, Neil, who's my cousin. MOO: Um ... was that a riddle? Or an interview question? I don't know who your cousin is -- I'm supposed to be asking the questions! Simon: No, Neil is my cousin.

Hugely entertaining, 20/10. Full interview under the cut.

When British upstarts-with-attitude Suede first burst onto the fertile London music scene in the early 90s, they were note only performing and recording a statement against the tranced and lethargic shoegazer scene (remember My Bloody Valentine, all you mod listeners?), but also fueling frontman Brett Anderson's love-affair with all things glam-rockish; i.e. Bowie, T-Rex, leather posturings, androgyny, ass-shaking audience flirtation, and potent pop rock. Melody Maker, the "Big Ben" of English music culture, even named them "best new band" of 1992. Then, they changed their name to the London Suede due to technicalities, got all arty on Dog Man Star, and performed a submarine dive from public view as Oasis and Brit-pop rose to the surface of the toilet ... er ... the pond of the microcosm which is the British rock scene, though several critics credit Suede as being the forerunners of Brit-pop, anyway. Now it's 1997, and the London Suede have risen again to deliver their third full release, Coming Up. Whether the "coming up" refers to Suede's bank account figures or a vomitous reaction from their fans at their new sound is a subject MOO's Daiv Whaley tries to discover, oh-so-politely, as he chats with drummer Simon Gilbert, all the way from the gray shores of England.

MOO: Alright, so Suede has returned to the airwaves after a two-year absence with Coming Up. What's different about this one?

Simon: Well, it's a lot more direct and easier to listen to than, certainly, Dog Man Star; a lot more rhythm-based ...

MOO: Which is great for a drummer!

Simon: Oh yeah, it's great for me -- we spent about six weeks just doing the drum tracks; we took a lot more time than we normally do. Plus, it's got a lot of keyboards on it cuz we've got a new keyboard player, Neil, who's my cousin.

MOO: Um ... was that a riddle? Or an interview question? I don't know who your cousin is -- I'm supposed to be asking the questions!

Simon: No, Neil is my cousin.

MOO: Oh, sorry.

Simon: So, we have some very good pop songs on it -- there's going to be five singles, and we could have done seven or eight, to be honest. It's just a much more accessible album, and it's opening people's ears who haven't been listening to Suede before, particularly in Europe and Britain. We're selling a lot more records than we ever have before.

MOO: That's riffing.

Simon: Yes, it is riffing.

MOO: So then, is Suede a pop band or a rock band?

Simon: We're a prock band!

MOO: My fave songs on your discs are always the audio-experimenia ones, like "Dandy's Speeding," "Introducing the Band" or "Moving" ...

Simon: That's one of the first tunes we ever recorded! We don't play it live anymore -- the drum bit's too fast for me nowadays.

MOO: Well, those types of songs really seem to distance you from the more plebeian, predictable, 90s-modrock types of bands. Are those kinds of songs written with that type of production in mind?

Simon: Well, "Introducing the Band" certainly was -- it was one of the last tracks we recorded for Dog Man Star, and after we heard it, we just thought, "What was that?" But it was intentional to make it a bit weird.

MOO: Did Brian Eno approach the band about doing an incredibly long version of the tune ...

Simon: That incredibly long, incredibly boring version? No, we approached him for some bizarre reason, I don't know why. I'm not criticizing the bloke -- he does amazing work, but at the end of the day, all we were left with was the reverb; he took everything else out but the echo ... I was expecting a little bit more of the original version -- I bet there's not one person in the fucking country who's played the whole thing all the way through. I know I haven't!

MOO: Yuk yuk. Your former guitarist and co-songwriter Bernard Butler ...

Simon: Bernard Buttocks!

MOO: ... exited Suede after recording Dog Man Star and has been replaced by the very young Richard Oakes. What, is he 19 now?

Simon: No, he's actually 20 now and getting up in the double digits!

MOO: This is the first disc he's done with Suede. Was he up to the task?

Simon: More so than we'd ever expected, to be honest. We did a few demos before the album and after three or four, it was just no problem with him at all. Easy peasey! For someone so young and so inexperienced, I don't know how he did it, but he did.

MOO: Did you just say "easy peasey"? Never mind, what about this new keyboardist? Some cynics say that when a guitar band takes on a keyboardist, the band's death knell has begun, and now your own cousin, Neil Codling, is an official Suedester. "Codling," what a great last name.

Simon: Yeah, Codling, like in "molly codling." Have you heard that expression?

MOO: Yes, I studied English literature, with a minor in advanced cybernetic design.

Simon: Hmmnn. But about those cynics, they're wrong, at least in Suede's case -- Neil has done nothing but improve upon what we can do and the limits we can reach on our albums. Also, live, our sound is so much fuller. And we can still fuckin' rock out as well. Now, if we got a brass section, that might kill a band.

MOO: I've heard that Bowie is a fan? Has the band had any dealings with him as of yet?

Simon: Yes, he is. Um, we played with him last summer, in Spain, in the Pyrenees Mountains. He requested we play and we opened for him and he watched the whole gig from the sidestage, which was a bit nerve-racking. But yes, he's a big fan and he's fifty years old now.

MOO: Rockstar, painter, actor and Suede fan ... What more can you ask?

Simon: Not very much!

MOO: Speaking of playing live, you guys toured America for Dog Man Star -- how would you say a US audience compares to a British crowd?

Simon: Well, it really depends. I couldn't really generalize that much, because in L.A. or someplace like San Francisco, they're probably wilder than a British audience, but then you look at some place in Texas ... they sort of spit on us, they don't really like us there. It's a bit different in America, but there are some parts of it where it feels like you could be in London.

MOO: So, I take it while you're almost worshipped in Britain, America really hasn't caught on yet?

Simon: Hasn't caught on yet ... we're not saying we're giving up on it at all, but we're just playing it by ear. I believe that's the expression for it. We're gonna come over and do 10 dates and see how the album is received, but there's no real point in banging your head against a brick wall. If America on the whole doesn't get it, then fair enough, but I really hope they do, cuz it's a great album, a lot more America-friendly as well.

MOO: I've read Brett describe the band as being "political." I know Suede had been involved in the animal rights movement, and gay rights, and freedom issues. Do you find American music to be more or less politically-motivated on the whole than British stuff?

Simon: Well, I'd say that quote was probably taken out of context ... We're a political band in a human sense, not in a government politics kind of way. Yeah, we'll stand up in the House of Parliament and say, "This is wrong and blah blah blah," and we'll protest like that, but in the songs, there's no political manifesto of any kind -- it's purely human "politics" in our music. As for American bands, I really can't say ... I'm very stuck in the 60s and 70s in terms of music, and I don't really ask myself if this or that band is American or British, but rather, are they good or bad bands?

MOO: There's been a bit of a buzz in the US over the Brit-pop scene -- particularly Oasis and Blur. Where does Suede seem to fit into that whole genre, anyway?

Simon: Blur? They're shitty. Oasis is actually pretty good. Suede doesn't really fit into that scene at all; it was lucky we were away when it sort of kicked-off, and luckily we weren't lumped into that whole thing, cuz now the scene is dead, there's no such thing as Brit-pop anymore in England, and when a scene dies off, all the bands die off with it. So America, don't bother with it. It's really just the media sticking another tag on some scene -- it's useless crap, really.

MOO: Okay, how about the whole androgyny/bisexuality slant of a lot of Suede's songs -- if it's not just image-mongering to get attention ...

Simon: No, it's not.

MOO: So, why is Suede so revelatory about their sexual preferences?

Simon: Because the people we hang around with ... we hang around with each other, we're all friends, and the other people who come from lots of different areas of society, and at the end of the day everyone's aware of sexuality and the different types of sexuality, and consequently Brett writes about the people we hang around with and the way we live. It's just about being open and honest, really.

MOO: Right -- skinstorms together and all that.

Simon: Exactly; singing about things that other people don't sing about -- we don't sing about birds and flowers and the sky and things like that.

MOO: Speaking about singing -- there's lots of stories and rumors about your Brett Anderson. He seems like a real character.

Simon: All the stories are probably true!

MOO: Considering he'll probably never see this interview, what do you have to say about Mr. Anderson?

Simon: About Mr. Anderson? He's become one of my best friends; he's perceived as being aloof and stuff like that, but at the end of the day, he's one of the most genuine people I know. He's a lovely bloke, that's my honest opinion, and make sure he doesn't see that or I'll become really embarrassed.

MOO: Last question. Before '92, critics and clubs seemed to hate you. Then, you end up on the cover of Melody Maker, your disc goes to number one and beats out Depeche Mode, and you're big-time rock stars. What happened?

Simon: Well, that Melody Maker cover did help, let's be honest.

MOO: The power of the press!

Simon: Yeah. But even before that ... I don't know what happened. We played at this place called the Falcon in Camden, which is a famous sort of indie hangout. We played there one weekend to, like, eight people. Then the next weekend we played there again and the place was packed. All these stars came down there, people like Morrissey, and things just started to happen. I really don't know what happened -- I think people really got bored with the scene at the time, there was a lot of techno and shoegazey stuff going on and the indie scene was boring. We kind of laid that stuff to rest when we got going. There were people who I think were bored with not seeing real entertainers up on stage, and we were a band that was entertaining, which might have been why people didn't like us at the time -- they were so used to seeing the shoegazing stuff going on.

MOO: Yeah, let's look at our sneakers for an hour and play guitars!

Simon: Right, how entertaining is that? Might as well just sit at home and listen to their records.

MOO: And the rest is history, as they say.

Simon: Yeah, something like that.

#suede #simon gilbert #coming up #coming up month

12 notes · View notes

allie1804-fan · 3 years

Text

The Fall (Chapter 1)

Warnings: None

St Thomas Hospital London

Feb 11th 2017

A dull but insistent drum sound seemed to be beating in the distance over and over again. Where was it coming from and why wouldn’t it stop? Abby opened her eyes tentatively, blinking at the bright light steaming in through the window next to her bed.

Her eyes ’s flew open . There wasn’t a window to the left of her bed!

And that’s when she remembered where she was and why.

Yesterday she’d been queuing in Leicester Square with a ticket to attend the Premiere of John Wick 2. She’d felt kind of daring being there and also completely stupid at the same time. She was 48 for god’s sake and surely beyond the days of following your favourite movie star to premieres and book signings – and yet, why shouldn’t she have some youthful fun. Her kids were teenagers now so it was no skin off her husband’s nose for her to go off with a girlfriend for a long weekend away and why not build in the chance to see her idol of over 20 years in the flesh again. She’d managed to see him a couple of times before this - with Dogstar in the 90s and at a book signing in 2011, but in February 2017 Keanu’s star was riding high and so she and her friend Alison had made a the trip to comprise the Graham Norton Show on the Thursday and the John Wick 2 Premiere on the Friday. There was a large excitable crowd at the premiere and, as it turned out, she was alone as her friend Alison had had to cry off and return home that morning as her son was sick. Maybe that was Abby’s downfall and why she’d been more vulnerable in the crowd.

She’d managed a glimpse of Keanu as he’d come up the line but she wasn’t able to get to the front and pass him her picture of him for signing. So enthralled was she at just watching him interact with the fans at the front, especially the few kids that had been brought along, that she didn’t notice the swell of the crowd behind her. Keanu had crouched down for a picture with one of the kids and as he rose back up she glimpsed his expression changing, his eyes fixed on something behind her. And then her feet were knocked from under her and her head hit the icy cold pavement.

This whole scene was going through her mind yet again when the nurse came to check her vitals the following morning.

“Morning sleeping beauty, how are you feeling?”

“Sore” Abby replied smiling slightly “and I can’t really remember getting here. Last thing I can remember is the pavement!”

“Well, your husband is coming down this afternoon and hopefully we can discharge you then. It’s Saturday now and you came in at around 8.30 yesterday evening after a fall in a crowd, do you remember where you were?”

“Yes, I do” Abby replied blushing, wondering if the nurse would think her really juvenile for going to a premiere.

“Did you get to see him?”

“Who, Keanu?”

The nurse nodded excitedly and Abby breathed a sigh of relief that it didn’t seem like she was being judged.

“Yes from a distance – I think me looking at him stopped me noticing the crowd surge. I think he saw it coming though. That’s the last thing I remember – his worried expression looking behind me and then wham!”

February 11th Claridges London

The phrase from the Matrix, “Like a Splinter in your Mind” was going through Keanu’s brain as he lay in bed the morning after the premiere. He kept trying to picture the woman who’d fallen the night before and to place her but it just wouldn’t come. Immediately after it happened, security had stepped in to both attend to the woman and protect him, rushing him into the auditorium for press and despite him repeatedly asking if everyone was alright he never really got any detail from anyone. He leaned over to grab his phone off the nightstand and rang Cheryl. She had stayed outside at Keanu’s insistence to see that the emergency services came and what the outcome was. She was a bit irritated as she would normally hover near each journalist seeking to talk to Keanu to make sure no-one strayed into unwanted territory but she could see he’d be even more likely to bail completely if he was worrying that no one was ensuring that the woman who fell was taken care of.

“Did you find out anything, about the woman last night”

“well they told me which ER they were taking her to but I don’t know if that’s where she’ll still be. She might have been discharged for all we know.”

“Damn it!, I know I recognise her but it just won’t come. Did you get a name?

“No she was still concussed - can you give me any clues?”

“I just feel like I’ve met her or heard her speak or …. Something”

It was in the shower later on that it came to him! She’d been at the chat show! He hadn’t actually seen her there in person but the show runners had done some interviews with fans in the afternoon who were queuing to get in and hers was one they’d selected to show him as they thought it was cute.

The question they had asked fans of those on the show was “What would you say if you met xxx and she was there for him rather than Denzel or Amelia Fox.

“Well, let’s be honest” she’d laughed, looking at her the friend beside her “I know I’m a grown woman, but I‘d most likely be dumbstruck and tongue tied……… but if I could actually gather my thoughts it would be to say lots of thank yous.

“What would you thank Keanu for?”

“Well 1stly obviously a thank you for all the entertainment - the laughter, the tears and the thrills from his films. And then thank you for the friendships, like this one (she gestured between herself and her friend) that have sprung from being a fan. Some online and some that were made in real life or went like this one from being online to real life and many of them have lasted over 20 or so years. And thanks for being someone I can admire as a person too (the hard work, the humility, living up to the “being excellent to each other” mantra is pretty inspirational to me and is a massive part of why I am still a fan. And finally, maybe most importantly, thank you for the solace that having this little outlet, this escape of being a fan has given me so often when real life has been too painful. You know, having a film to watch and share thoughts about or a new interview to see, a Dogstar gig to go to or a report from a film set from an extra. Or even if I’m brutally honest, having a cute new picture to fan girl over has been a comfort to me when times were tough. So thank you for all that Keanu. That is what I would want to say but probably I’d just be a like a mute goldfish!”

He had been speechless after watching that. He knew his fans liked him - how could he not when people got excited in the street or at an event to meet him and shake his hand but to have it put so beautifully and to hear the word “solace” from someone of around his age who he guessed had been battered somewhat by life’s travails like him - that was really something else and it had stayed with him. He was glad he’d now connected the two images – the falling woman and the fan. He called Cheryl back with this nugget and asked her to contact the show team to see if they had kept any details. He was determined to send her flowers, maybe try to see her, especially as she had ended up in hospital, however briefly.

@fortheloveoffanfic @kindainlovewithk’eanu @omg-imagine @iworshipkeanureeves @fics-not-tragedies @ficsnroses @keanureevesisbae @penwieldingdreamer @witty-wallflower @paperplanesandwallflowers @bitchyslut99 @ladyreapermc @toomanystoriessolittletime @fanficsrusz @keanuficfiles @bitchyslut99

#keanu reeves fanfic #keanu reeves fanfiction #keanu #keanu reeves

4 notes · View notes

shochmonster · 4 years

Text

84 Questions

original: https://fuckyeahsurveys.tumblr.com/post/61049002526/84-questions

Put your music player of choice on shuffle and list the first 10 songs Guns of Brixton - The Clash Holiday in Cambodia - Dead Kennedys Chainsaw - Nick Jonas California - Joni Mitchell Make It Wit Chu - Queens of the Stone Age This Woman’s Work - Kate Bush The Bad Thing - Arctic Monkeys Between the Bars - Eliot Smith Drown - The Smashing Pumpkins Different People - No Doubt

If you could spend a week anywhere in the world, where would it be and why? Would you take anyone with you? I’d take @duoloopo to the UK. I’d like to see places other than London.

What is your preferred writing implement? (eg. Blue pen, pencil, green pen) I use my iPad stylus the most, but I have this heavy mechanical pencil I really like for drawing.

Favourite month and why? October. I just love the fall vibe.

Do you have connections to any celebrities (even minor)? List them. I went to undergraduate school with Rebecca Sugar. We used to ride the bus between NYC and DC together on holidays.

Name 3 items you could pick up from where you are. Can of seltzer, pencil case, stack of bills

What brand logo is closest to you currently? REAL Skateboards

Do you ever play board games or other non-computer games? Got any favourites? I love Small World and Munchkin.

A musical artist you love that isn’t well known Laura Stevenson and the Cans

A musical artist you love that is well known Red Hot Chili Peppers

What is your desktop background currently? Thomas Barrow on the beach in the Season 4 Christmas Special

Last person you talked to, and through what you talked to them @duomaxwell02 with my face :O

First colour name you can think of that isn’t in the rainbow White

What timekeeping devices are in the room you are currently in? Two wall clocks, though one is very old and doesn’t wind anymore. I also have a clock @duoloopo ‘s dad made for me. It’s on the piano.

What kind of headphones do you use? JBL Bluetooth, noise canceling

What musical artists have you seen perform live? Foo Fighters (3x), Incubus (3x), Red Hot Chili Peppers, Smashing Pumpkins, Beastie Boys, Audioslave, Justin Timberlake, Troy Sivan, Arctic Monkeys, The Rolling Stones, Eric Clapton, Queen (but with Roger Daughtry, not Freddy... for obvious reasons.). Probably a whole bunch of others I’m blanking on.

Does virginity matter to you? Not really.

What gaming consoles do you or your family own? PS4, PS2, PS1, XBox 360, N64, Gamecube, Wii, NES, SNES, various Gameboys, Nintendo DS, PSP

What pets do you have? What are their names? Two cats, Hemingway and Renji

What’s the best job you’ve ever had? I like freelance art gigs the best. As for ‘normal people jobs’, I once was a sign painter for Whole Foods. That was pretty fun, minus the work drama.

What’s the worst job you’ve ever had? Food service.

What magazines do you read, if any? I’ll pick up Time once in a while

Inspiration behind your URL? My classic original URL was LinkWorshiper and had been since AIM first existed. I picked it because Zelda was the first fandom I ever joined. Now I’ve changed all my handles (except on AO3) to reflect my actual name, as my literary agent thinks it’s more professional.

Inspiration behind your blog title? Mean Girls. I always chuckle imagining Thomas and Jimmy as some Edwardian version of the Plastics.

Favourite item of clothing? My Downton livery waistcoat. And the stiff bosomed shirt and collars I have to go with it.

Are you friends with any exes? Nah. By the time I felt comfortable enough to possibly try, I also didn’t care enough to.

Name at least one book you loved as a child. His Dark Materials (the trilogy by Philip Pullman). I still love them and am jazzed that he’s writing more these days.

What’s your native language? If that language has distinct regional variations, which variation? (eg. AU English, US English) US English, mostly a northeastern dialect/accent

What email service do you use? Gmail

Is there anything hanging on the walls of the room you are currently in? So much stuff. I have a mood board full of Downtons stuff over my desk, various DA posters and memorabilia, plus some artwork I’ve done, and some of my JC Leyendecker collection. The aforementioned wall clocks, a San Francisco cable car bell, Sailor Moon and a few other little knickknacks, like my hamsa. To name a few lol.

What’s your favourite number, and why? 212 because it’s Manhattan’s area code and also because it used to be the notation for one of my favorite ships in an old fandom.

Earliest moment in your life you can remember? Sitting under the table and looking at my grandma, who was wearing a Cruella Deville dress she’d knit herself. Like, it had the actual Disney character on it. Pretty cool to a little guy, I guess!

What did you have for dinner yesterday? Quesadilla

How often do you brush your teeth? Whenever they feel gross

What’s your favourite candy/chocolate? Lately, I’ve been into Junior Mints.

Have you had other blogs on Tumblr? Do you have any other blogs currently? This blog used to have my old handle, linkworshiper. I did a small Whole Foods blog when I worked with them, but it never went anywhere.

If you were suddenly really hungry, what would you choose to eat? Sushi

What fandoms would you consider yourself a part of? Downton Abbey, though lately I’ve been crazy busy and not as active as I once was. Casually still poking at old fandoms like Zelda and Gundam Wing to name a few.

If you could study anything, what would it be? More art education can’t hurt. Maybe some formal history education.

Do you use anything on your lips? (eg. Chapstick, gloss, balm, lipstick) Chapstick

How would you describe your sense of humour? Seinfeld

What things annoy you more than anything else? Mouth noises

What kind of position are you in at the moment? Sitting

Do you wear much jewellery? Nope

Who is the leader of your country, currently? Any other levels of government with leaders? (State, region, province, county, district, municipality, etc) Three supposedly equal branches of government, currently being run into the ground by a clown

Last 3 blogs on your dashboard, not including any of your own @halcyondaze @mab1905 @lavender-hued-melancholy

What do you carry your money in? I try to never carry cash, but I carry a small wallet

Do you enjoy driving? Why or why not? I like it but sometimes it feels like a chore, especially during a commute. @duoloopo thinks I’m a shit driver so she tries to drive whenever she can, which has pluses and minuses.

Longest drive you have ever been on? Savannah GA to San Francisco, CA in a UHaul

Furthest away from home you have ever been? Germany

How many times have you moved house? God, I don’t even know. More than ten.

What is on the floor of the room you’re currently in, not including furniture? Cat toys, unused canvases

How many devices do you own which can access the internet? Phone, computer, iPad, various game consoles

Is there is anything that is guaranteed to always make you happy? Thomas and Jimmy <3 <3

Is there anything that always makes you sad? Thinking too hard about being a failure

What programs do you currently have open? I just rebooted, so only Chrome, Spotify and Photoshop

What do you associate the colour red with? This line in the Kate Bush Song Blue Symphony, which goes, ‘I associate love with red, the color of my heart when she’s dead.’

Last strong smell you can remember smelling? The Greek food I ordered in for dinner

Last healthy thing you ate? Roasted veggies

Do you drink tea or coffee, and how much per day? I prefer tea, and I drink coffee for energy, though sometimes I think it just makes me crash harder.

What do you associate the colour blue with? The sky

How long is the closest ruler you can find? 12 inches

What colour pants/skirt/etc are you currently wearing? Dark blue

When was the last time you drank water? About a minute ago

How often do you clear your browser history? Rarely

Do you believe nude photos can be artistic, rather than erotic? Yes

Ever written fanfiction for anything? Oh God, yes. You can still find it under Link Worshiper on AO3, though some of my ‘classics’ have been removed since I turned them into original manuscripts

Last formal event you attended My cousin’s wedding

If you had to move your birthday to another date, which one would you choose and why? Maybe inch my birth year up just by two so that I’d stop being called a damn millennial. At my age, I really just don’t relate to the generation even though technicalities make me a part of it.

Would you prefer to be at a beach or in the countryside? Beach

Roughly how many people live in your town? 52,000

Do you know anyone with the same birthday as you? Leonard Nimoy :D

Favourite place to shop? Can be a certain store or a place where there are multiple stores I haven’t really gone shopping since the pandemic. Right now, it feels like the only place to buy anything is Amazon XD

Do you have a smartphone? What kind? If you don’t, do you want one? Samsung. It’s not a Galaxy but is a new model and a fraction of the price.

What is your least favourite colour, and why? I don’t think I dislike any colors honestly.

How do you spell grey/gray? Grey. I’ve got too many British online associates to ever go back.

Go to your dashboard and describe the image shown in the radar section (below the “Find blogs” link) It’s Umbrella Academy fanart of Klaus. He’s in black and white with this hands over his eyes and the background is red. It’s very graphic.

What difference is there between how many followers you have, and the number of blogs you follow? 736

How many posts do you have? 8,859

How many posts have you liked? I can’t find the stat D:

Do you post mainly reblogs, or your own content? Mainly reblogs but I pepper in my own content when I can. Lately, I haven’t had time to do as much fanart though, and I kind of feel like it’s not worth bothering to post my original stuff. Nobody follows my blog for that.

Do you track any tags? No.

What time is it currently? 7:33 PM CMT

Is there anything you should be doing right now? Waking up @duoloopo. TIME TO JUMP ON THE BED.

tagging, if they feel like it: @abbys-little-whippersnapper @bumblebarrow @irrationalgame @downtoncat @mab1905 @duoloopo

and everyone who I’ve forgotten

#personal #about me #questions

10 notes · View notes

krt-hmml · 4 years

Text

who: kurt hummel, rachel berry ( @bberryrach ), jesse st. james ( @jstj ) what: after ducking out of the speed dating event, kurt joins st. berry at their apartment for drinks and talks to them about blaine ( @blaineandersnyc ) where: st. berry’s apartment when: the same night as the event, idk which day that was on triggers: none

Tonight was supposed to be fun, catching up with Finn and Marley while simultaneously hanging out with his best friends. He had assumed there'd be tension between the two groups, but they had all spent many Mondays at the bar, so it would be nice to hang out like they used to (sans Blaine, of course)....except, that wasn't what happened. The bar had been hosting a large event. The good news was it helped with the friction between his brother and his friends, but the bad news was everything else. Kurt was so unwilling to step back into the dating world, even being at a speed dating event on accident made him cringe. And, even worse, Blaine was at the event. Kurt left with Jesse and Rachel shortly after running into his ex and, still somewhat drunk from the time he'd spent with Santana that night, he was happy to continue drinking with his two friends. "Where's this cocktail set you were telling me about?" He asked, not really sure if Jesse could be trusted at making drinks without some supervision.

Rachel had been looking forward to celebrating Kurt's return to New York for weeks. Sure, she'd barely let her best friend out of her sight over the last few weeks, but they hadn't yet hit the town together like old times. Unfortunately, it seemed like they picked the absolute wrong night to go out-- the Midnight Apple not only swamped with people for some ridiculous speed dating event, but with Blaine and Finn. Rachel knew that seeing Blaine hurt Kurt, and that Jesse would be less than thrilled to see Finn, and so she quickly suggested they leave, instead heading to Rachel and Jesse's apartment for drinks. "Right here," Rachel said, pushing out a bar cart from the kitchen to the living room. "My dads gifted the set to us for our wedding-- isn't it beautiful?It's real crystal. Jesse wants us to take bartending classes now." She sat down next to Kurt on the couch, squeezing his hand. He kept his feelings close to his chest, but Rachel could tell that he was hurting from tonight's run-in with Blaine.

Although the Midnight Apple had a nostalgic charm that Jesse couldn't deny, he didn't really care where they spent the night. The point was to celebrate Kurt's return to the city, and the only things he needed for that were Rachel and Kurt himself. Their years of catching up every Monday in the bar were, presumably, over, and now they'd moved away and moved on, and Jesse was more than okay with that. Arriving to discover there was a speed dating event on had only solidified his apathy towards the bar, and the cast of characters from their past hadn't warmed him back up to it. Knowing how uncomfortable Kurt was, Jesse was more than happy to head home and break out their cocktail set instead. While he was a fire risk in the kitchen, he did know his way around drinks, and was confident in his mixology skills. He was excited to try it out for the first time. "I think it'll make a good date night. I'll look for the earliest available class," Jesse nodded, moving to stand behind the cart. "So what can I get for you both?"

Jesse and Rachel certainly lived a luxurious lifestyle Kurt had never experienced himself - one that he likely wouldn't until Hummel was the brand every celebrity wanted the opportunity to wear. So his eyebrows raised as Rachel mentioned their cocktail set being made out of real crystals. He stayed quiet as they talked about date night. He loved his friends and he was glad to be around them, but in some ways they were in completely different worlds right now. Two of them were newlyweds, madly in love, and Kurt was....well, he wasn't sure if there was really anyone out there who could make him feel like that. At least, not since he ruined his own marriage. "I'll take whatever fruity cocktail you make." He informed Jesse. Alcohol was alcohol. As long as it tasted good and made him a little more numb to tonight's events, he didn't care what he drank.

Jesse's comment regarding booking the earliest class available was not missed by Rachel, and she nodded, giving him a smile of appreciation. She didn't plan on being able to drink for much longer-- she would be pregnant by the end of the year. "You're the bartender, Jesse. You've got to decide what to make. Although I do like pink drinks, for the record." She watched him for a moment, considering whether to buy him a little apron and vest. But then Rachel remembered why they came back to the apartment, and she turned her attention back to Kurt. "How are you feeling? What did Blaine even say to you? Besides the fact that he was there to speed date."

Jesse caught Rachel's eye, sharing a secret smile with her. If they got their way, her drinking days would be over for the foreseeable future... and he was certain that he'd be roped in to provide moral support. Their drink orders were simple enough, and Jesse took a moment to appraise the spirits and mixers they had, thinking about what was best to serve. "I know you do. You'll drink anything as long as it tastes like pink," he replied with a fond grin, starting to mix up their drinks. Focused on his new bartending gig, Jesse only glanced up at her question to Kurt about Blaine. It was awkward to be between two of his best friends when they were getting divorced. And it was hard to relate, too -- he couldn't have been further away from Kurt emotionally, blissfully happy with his own life. "Is this the first time you've seen him? Apart from the wedding."(edited)

"I don't know." Kurt admitted to Rachel as she asked if he was okay. "Neither of us said much....just small talk about what we're both doing right now." It was weird that, after seeing each other every day for years, they now needed to tell each other about their lives. He looked over at Jesse as he asked about Blaine as well. "Yeah....this is the first time we've talked since....well, everything. I just....I can't believe he's moving on. He should, I don't want him to be miserable. But...I don't know. Knowing it's happening....it makes everything more real all of the sudden."

Rachel frowned at Kurt's comment, and she angled her body towards him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders for a hug. She didn't know what to say to Kurt-- an unusual occurrence. This was a situation Rachel had never been in, nor did she expect to. Of course, Kurt and Blaine thought the same, but she and Jesse were different. Special. "For what it's worth, Blaine didn't seem completely committed to the prospect of dating. I think he's trying something new-- maybe you should, too. Not speed dating, of course. You're much too good for that. But we all know that you're a complete catch, and if Blaine is getting back out there, maybe it's a sign that it's time for you to meet new people, too."

Jesse listened as Kurt and Rachel spoke, focusing on making the drinks. There wasn't much he could say to help -- his only contribution could be a look into Blaine's mind, which he was certain Kurt could do just as easily. "He's definitely not committed to the idea. It's a bridge to getting out there. I don't think he'll commit to dating seriously for a while." But casually? Blaine was already far ahead of Kurt, with a cliche wedding hook-up under his belt. But Kurt didn't need to know that -- and Jesse definitely didn't want to be the one to tell him. "You're definitely a catch. But it's up to you to bite. You have to take that first step, no one can take it for you." Drinks made, Jesse headed over to join them on the couch. "Sea Breeze for Kurt," he announced, handing them their glasses. "A classic G&T for me, and a Cosmopolitan for the wife. Maybe I should teach the class."

Kurt gratefully took the drink from Jesse, taking a drink of it as he thought about how to respond to his friends. He was glad they didn't think Blaine was serious about dating - Kurt didn't think he was, either, but it was still good to hear from mutual friends of the two. He leaned into Rachel, who was already holding him. A small smile tugged at his lips as Jesse referred to him as a catch, as it wasn't something Kurt hadn't seen himself being in a long time. "I just can't imagine getting back out there. In London, it didn't feel real. We were already doing long distance, so him not being there was almost normal. I'm just now getting used to the idea of not having him here in New York." Kurt explained. There was more to it than that, though. He didn't think anyone would ever love him like Blaine did. He was career oriented and felt about as stable as a jenga tower. Plus he knew he was high maintenance. Who would want to date someone like that?

"Thank you Jesse," Rachel said, accepting the drink, "it's very pink." She kept an arm around Kurt, squeezing his shoulder. "Isn't Jesse so multitalented?" Rachel felt almost guilty for being so happy right now. When she and Jesse first got together, Kurt and Blaine were their example of a happy, functioning relationship. Now, just as Rachel and Jesse's marriage was blooming, Kurt and Blaine's was falling apart. "Well, luckily for you, you have us. And while Jesse and I would love set you up with a very attractive costume designer we know, I understand if you need more time. Anyone would be lucky to be with you-- Blaine included. But in the meantime, I'm just glad my best friend is back across the hall from me."

Jesse beamed at Rachel's compliment, always warmly receptive of her praise. After growing up in such a cold household, the affection and attention he got from Rachel still felt novel, and he basked in it. He couldn't wait until they had a child to shower with all the love they had. "We're very ready to set you up. We've been working on a list. I'm sure you met some of them at the wedding, we can start narrowing it down." It turned out that he and Rachel knew a lot of people -- though Jesse was aware of exactly how particular Kurt was. If they found even one appropriate date, it would be a win. "I'm glad you're back, too. And I think it's going to be good for you. Like you said, London wasn't really your real life. You couldn't move on because you weren't living normally. Now you're back in your reality, and you can start progressing again."

Kurt couldn't help but roll his eyes as Rachel gave Jesse so much praise over making cocktails. They weren't hard, as long as you didn't add so much alcohol it overpowered the drink. He chewed at his lip as he listened to his friends. "....How attractive is the costume designer?" He asked curiously, although he didn't really plan on meeting the guy. A smile tugged at his lips when they both said they were happy to have him back. "I'm happy to be back, too. I missed all of you." He replied, thinking back to how bad his mental health had been while he had been alone in another country. He took Rachel's hand and gave it a squeeze, still in slight disbelief he could do that whenever he wanted to. You can start progressing again.....Kurt had no idea what that was supposed to look like. He didn't see himself being happy with anyone but Blaine. He loved his exhusband more than he'd ever loved anyone, but didn't he owe it to himself to see what else was out there besides his high school sweetheart who would probably never want to talk to him again. "If I may, I have a question, and I want your brutal honesty in return."

Rachel watched Jesse as he spoke, nodding along. They were always on the same page. "Very attractive," Rachel said confidently. She wouldn't set Kurt up with anyone below a 7. Kurt's hand in hers was reassuring and deeply missed: she squeezed back, scooting closer to him. "Well, we're all here now, and that's what matters." Kurt's phrasing piqued Rachel's interest, and she looked at him curiously as he spoke. "Of course. What do you want to ask?"

Kurt leaned into Rachel and sighed. He was lucky he had them, and an amazing dad that was only six hours away. He didn't feel alone anymore, not in the same way he did in London. But he was still hurt and raw, and he didn't know if that would ever really change. He hesitated before he finally asked the question he'd been thinking about for a long time. "Did I make a mistake, ending things with Blaine like that?"

Rachel shifted uncomfortably in her seat, thinking for a moment about how to answer Kurt's question. Blaine and Kurt always seemed like a happy couple to Rachel, and Kurt seemed to be hurting now, but maybe their breakup showed just how imperfect they were together. She was sure long distance would never separate her and Jesse like it had the two of them. "Well, why did you break up with him in the first place?" Rachel asked, trying her best to approach the conversation delicately (it wasn't always her strongest skill). "Because it seems to me that Blaine wasn't making you happy, and you deserve someone that does."

Jesse listened to Kurt and Rachel speak, raising an eyebrow at Kurt's question. It was a big one -- and not one he felt qualified to answer. He'd seen his friends at their happiest and unhappiest together, but he had so little experience of relationships himself that he wasn't sure he'd be any use. Choosing to focus on his drink instead, Jesse nodded as Rachel spoke. Should he just agree with Rachel? That seemed the easiest way to appear involved. He had a wise reputation to uphold. "You deserve to be happy. Whether that's with Blaine or someone else."

Why did you break up with him in the first place? Well, if that wasn't a heavy question. Kurt squeezed Rachel's hand briefly before he moved away from her slightly, needing more personal space if he was going to really talk about this. "I was alone in London, you know? Like, really, really alone. And I think it was obvious I was homesick, I didn't really try to pretend I wasn't, but...I was doing a lot worse than I let on. And it was hard with Blaine, because we were constantly missing each others calls and on completely different schedules, and...again, I wasn't in the best place, and I shut down and blocked him out." His eyes stared at the floor in the apartment, unable to look directly at his friends. "And I can't help but think I ruined the best thing in my life. I mean, he wasn't making me happy but nothing was except for work."

Frowning as Kurt shifted away from her, Rachel listened carefully as he spoke. She knew that Kurt had been struggling in London-- more than Kurt probably thought she knew-- and Blaine probably did too. "I know that you were homesick. And I'm sure Blaine did, too. But don't you think it says something if he let you shut him out?" Rachel might not have known the exact details about the breakup, but it seemed like a severance on both ends. "You blocked Blaine out, but Blaine didn't stop you. I'm not saying that you shouldn't get back together with Blaine. But this breakup wasn't only on you, Kurt. And anyways, I thought I was the best thing in your life," she finished with a fake pout.

Jesse reached for Rachel's hand once Kurt had let her go, threading his fingers between hers. It had been obvious that Kurt was struggling, and though he'd done his best to be there for him, he clearly hadn't done enough. "I don't think this is about Blaine letting Kurt shut him out. He was two thousand miles away and being ignored. And if anything, his attempts to help only caused more problems," Jesse frowned. He'd planned to agree with Rachel, but he wasn't sure Blaine could be blamed for not being able to break through Kurt's walls. They all knew how much Kurt protected himself. "But you weren't happy. And getting back together with him now won't make you happy suddenly. You have to be happy and healthy by yourself, being with him or not isn't the deciding factor in that."

Kurt wasn't sure how he felt about Rachel putting any of the blame on Blaine's shoulders. Maybe it wasn't entirely his fault they didn't work out, but Kurt honestly wasn't sure what Blaine could have done differently. As Jesse made a counterpoint about how there wasn't much Blaine could have done to stop Kurt from shutting down, Kurt raised an eyebrow, tilting his head to the side for just a second, silently saying that's true at Jesse's words. "I started seeing a therapist recently." He admitted in response to Jesse saying he needed to be happy and healthy on his own. "And I know that getting back together with him wouldn't magically fix everything that's wrong with me, but...I don't think anyone else will ever love me the same way he did, either."

Rachel squeezed Jesse's hand before looking confusedly up at him. He wasn't one to usually disagree with her, and she didn't like it when he did. Frowning, she gave him a look. "A break up is always about both parties," Rachel said snappily, before turning her attention back to Kurt. "But maybe you should make sure you love yourself before you worry about anyone else loving you." Kurt was right: getting back together with Blaine wouldn't fix everything, and neither would getting together with someone new. "I'm glad you're seeing a therapist," Rachel said, giving Kurt a reassuring smile. "It's a brave thing to do. And we're both here for you."October 16, 2020

Jesse chose to let Rachel's comment slide -- why did it matter what they thought about break ups? They weren't breaking up any time soon. "Rachel's right. That's an important step. We're proud of you," Jesse smiled. He thought for a moment about Kurt's last comment, tilting his head. It reminded him of a conversation he and Rachel had had, a little over two years ago. "I don't think that's a reason to get back with him. You know, when Rachel and I first got together, she told me that evening that she was worried that Finn was her one shot at love. I laughed at her, and I stand by it. You never know what's around the corner. Look what an upgrade Rachel got."

Kurt frowned as Rachel snapped at Jesse. That certainly wasn't what he wanted. He looked away as they both expressed pride in him getting help. It wasn't that big of a deal, even if he probably should have started seeing one years ago. It didn't feel like a step forward yet, though. The fashion designer rolled his eyes at Jesse finding a way to compliment himself during this conversation. Of course he did. "I mean...I know I'm attractive, and smart and talented. But I'm still a specific type, I'm high maintenance and sex means something to me. That's not always compatible with the New York gay dating scene."

Rachel thought back to the night Jesse mentioned, considering his point. It was true: she had believed that Finn was the only person that would love her deeply, and she couldn't have been more wrong. "Jesse makes a very convincing point, Kurt. Even I questioned ending things with Finn, but the hopelessness I felt in the following months had all been in vain. Little did I know I would find the love of my life somewhere else." She glanced at her husband, and then back at Kurt. "It may come as a surprise, but I'm also a specific type. But you don't need to be compatible with the entire New York gay dating scene. Just with one other person."

Would Kurt find another love? It seemed unlikely. But maybe they were right that there was someone out there, who wasn't Blaine. "I don't know." He sighed, shaking his head. He wanted to say I've felt hopeless for more than a few months now. It's been over a year since we split. but he had only just returned to New York. There was no way Kurt was ready to enter another relationship, or hook up with someone....but maybe he needed to put himself back out there before he'd be ready for any of that. After visibly hesitating for a moment, Kurt spoke again. "Maybe I should go on one of those blind dates...." He was already starting to regret saying that.

Kurt's comments confused Rachel-- he was flipping back and forth, and she didn't know what he wanted, or how she should support him. It was unlike most other issues they'd solved together. "If that's something that you'd like, of course Jesse and I would set you up," Rachel said encouragingly. "But it doesn't seem like that's what you want."

Jesse met Rachel's gaze with a smile, squeezing her hand. She'd found better -- why wouldn't Kurt? "It's unlikely that there isn't at least one man in New York City who'd be into you," he agreed, watching Kurt for a moment. He wasn't sure what his friend wanted -- they couldn't make Kurt's decisions for him. "If you're ready, I have someone in mind."

What did Kurt want? How was he supposed to know!? "I have no idea." He admitted as he stood up and began pacing. "I just want to be okay again." Coming home was supposed to make everything better, and for the most part it did, but he still didn't feel complete. But then, he also knew another guy wouldn't make him happy. "I mean, I'm not ready. But....I don't think I ever will be unless I make myself do it."

Rachel sighed, her eyes following Kurt as he got up and paced. "I don't know if any man will make you okay again, Kurt. That's something you have to do for yourself." Maybe it was hypocritical for Rachel to say that-- she certainly gauged her own happiness at least partly on how other's perceived her. But she knew it to be true-- moving to London clearly wasn't the start of Kurt's problems, it just made them more visible. "You shouldn't force yourself into something something that you're not ready for. But maybe it doesn't hurt to try?" She glanced at Jesse, hoping he had something wise and useful to add.

Truthfully, Jesse didn't know how helpful his opinion was. He hadn't been unhappy before he'd met Rachel, but he'd never been anywhere near this happy before. She'd turned his life around -- every day was different and better with her by his side. But he didn't think Kurt was like that. Kurt was more independent, more individual. "Dating won't make you okay. But it's one part of a happy life, and I think you're going to get more scared the longer you leave it. It's going to be terrible at first. But if you go on a few terrible dates now, you might be good at it by the time you meet the right person."

Did Kurt want to date again? Did he genuinely know that a boy wasn't going to make him happy? He had no idea. When had everything gotten so messed up inside? Shouldn't he know what he wanted and what would make him happy. He dramatically plopped back down onto the couch, then picked his sea breeze off the table. This conversation had sobered him up too much. "I have no idea what I should do." He sighed, then drank some of his cocktail.

“That’s okay,” Rachel said, resting her head on Kurt’s shoulder as he sat down on the couch. “You don’t need to decide what to do right now. Let’s just have fun and celebrate the fact that you’re back in the city and here with us.” She took a sip of her own cocktail, finishing it. “Bartender?” said said with a smile, holding her glass out to Jesse for a refill.

Jesse nodded, taking Rachel's drink and heading back over to the cocktail trolley. "I agree. What you should do is keep drinking my delicious cocktails. Think about dating another time and just have fun tonight."October 17, 2020

Kurt watched his friends for a moment....tonight was supposed to be fun, and he was ruining it by being sad. Then again, he knew Rachel and Jesse cared about him and wouldn't hold it against him that seeing Blaine made him spiral a bit. And he knew they probably weren't having the best night at the bar either, since they weren't crazy about Finn. "Get me another one too?" He asked Jesse before taking a drink of his sea breeze. It was only half gone, but he planned on having at least two cocktails while he was here, if not more.

#(rachel.)#(jesse.)#(para.)

3 notes · View notes

rossmccallsqueen · 5 years

Text

6AM

Pairing: Brian May x Reader

Summary: You just couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to prove himself.

Warnings: Some angst, lots of swearing, allegations of cheating, some fluff mixed in there

Word count: 2.1K

Requested: kind of?

“Get the HELL out Brian, I’m fucking done with your shit.”

You were so mad you didn’t even have the energy to yell anymore. It had passed that point a long time ago but now you were absolutely done. It was six in the goddamn morning and Brian had just walked in the door five minutes prior.

There was a Queen gig the night before, one of the finale shows in London for the Day at the Races tour. As always there was a huge party afterwards even though there was still another show the next night. But you knew there were parties every night, it didn’t matter what they had going on the next day.

“Come on Y/N, let’s just go to bed love.” He tried to go up the stairs and you stopped him.

“I said GET. OUT. BRIAN.” Your voice firm, you stood your ground.

“What the hell is your problem?” It took everything you had in you not to sigh heavily.

“What is my ‘problem’ Brian? You wanna know what my fuckin problem is? YOU. You are my problem. You never show up when you say you will. You said you wanted to celebrate just me and you.”

“I know baby, we will tomorrow!”

“Did I say I was done?” Brian blinked, “You come home every night smelling like someone else. Do you think I’m fucking stupid Brian? Because that sure as hell isn't my perfume. I know what you do when I’m not around. I’ve put up with your shit for way too long and I’m tired of it. I deserve way better than you.” Your last sentence made him look like he’d taken a punch to the gut.

“Can I at least get some of my things?”

“Not now. You can come back tomorrow when I’m out. Get out Brian, I’m done.” He starts walking towards the door with his jacket, a sad look on his face.

“Are you going to come to the last show?” He asked as he’s about to leave. You didn’t answer, all you did was turn around and walk back up the stairs. When you were at the top you heard the door close and then you knew you were truly alone.

You touched your stomach and realized what you’d done. You were eight weeks pregnant and you’d just kicked the father out of the house. He had no idea. What the hell had you just done?

The next morning you were woken up by the phone ringing over and over again. You’d let it ring the first two times but whoever was calling wasn’t going to give up. You had a feeling you knew who it was anyway.

“Hello?” You said half asleep.

“Y/N? How are you doing this morning love?” Freddie’s voice rang through the phone/

“I’m tired Freddie. What do you want?” You tried not to sound angry, it wasn’t Freddie you were angry at.

“Brian showed up to my house this morning all distraught. Could you talk to him darling? He’s terribly sorry.”

“I’m sorry Freddie, but no. I can’t do it anymore.” You ended up explaining the whole thing to him. At the end he said he understood, but asked if you would still come to the last show. You only agreed to come if you didn’t have to be near Brian, so Freddie said he would arrange for you to be with Dominique and be distracted.

After all, you had been there for a lot and it wouldn’t be right if you just missed it. Even if Brian has to be a part of it. Once you got off the phone you got up and got ready for your day. You were just going to have lunch with a friend, the day would be fine.

Freddie arranged for a car to pick you up and bring you to the show. It was weird arriving to a Queen show by yourself as you usually showed up with Brian, but you told yourself it was fine. Dominique, Roger, and Freddie greeted you backstage as per usual, getting settled to watch the show.

You decided to stand behind Rogers kit to watch the show, not a bad view for a change. You’d never seen Freddie be so energetic on stage before and it was amazing to watch. Continuing to keep your eyes off Brian, you somehow managed to enjoy the show.

“Are you sure you don’t want something to drink Y/N? Not even a vodka tonic or something?” You we’re running out of excuses to tell Dominique why you weren’t drinking. The plan had been to keep it a secret for as long as you could.

“Yeah I’m fine Dominique!” You said with a smile.

“You aren’t drinking? You’re not pregnant are you?” When you didn’t answer, her eyes went wide. She tried to open her mouth to speak but you stopped her.

“No one else knows, not even Brian. I don’t want anyone to know right now.” She asked you a few questions and managed to swear her to secrecy, but you had no idea how long that would last. Tonight was the last show and then you could avoid everyone for awhile, or at least minimize how much you went out besides work.

Of course you stayed a little for the after party, humoring Freddie and pretending to participate in the toast. You managed to quietly say goodbye to a few people and snuck out the back. Your car was still waiting for you, and you couldn’t wait to get home. Somehow you had to figure out a plan but right now that plan needed to be staying away from Brian.

Slowly over the next few weeks, every time you came home you noticed a few more of Brian’s things gone. He was staying with Freddie for a while but you didn’t know for how long. You saw the band every so often, with Veronica and Dominique popping by occasionally to say hello. You kept busy with work when you could, dealing with clients mostly from home.

“When are you going to tell him Y/N?” Dominique asked one day. You were almost four months at that point, only starting to show a little bit. It was still easily hideable for a little while longer.

“When he decides that I’m more important than whatever he does when I’m not around.” She knew you had a point, but that didn’t make the situation any less complicated. By then Freddie had figured it out as well, and Roger had found out from Dominique.

Occasionally you’d pick up things for the baby, which you’d found out was a girl. Secretly you hoped she would have Brian’s curls but you would never admit it to anyone.

Things got kind of lonely sometimes but you knew it was for the best. At least a few times a week you’d get a call you knew was from Brian because he always called twice if you didn’t pick up. You never answered. That wasn’t a conversation that should happen over the phone and he should know that.

The only thing you knew was that you were keeping her. You’d started to set up a nursery in the room next to yours so that she wouldn’t be far from you. You didn’t even want to be that far from her and she wasn’t even born yet. While you were laying down that day, Roger called to say he was dropping by. A little unusual since he was always with Dominique when he came over.

You managed to get yourself downstairs by the time he arrived, as moving around wasn’t your favorite thing these days.

“Brian wants to come see you. I told him that someone would have to speak to you first.” He didn’t even hesitate in asking, something you admired about Roger. You looked down at your stomach and touched the small bump that was there.

“He knows Y/N. He really wants to make it up to you.” You almost freaked out hearing that he knew, but you knew it killed Freddie to hide things so you knew it had happened somehow. He was going to find out eventually.

“Fine. He can come this weekend.” After a cup of tea, Roger excused himself to get back to the studio. They were already recording the next album. The next day, Veronica came over to take you for a day of shopping. You didn’t mind as it would get your mind off Brian, but that didn’t make you any less anxious about it.

You hadn’t even noticed you’d been out the whole day until you saw the time when you got back to Veronica’s car. It was almost dinner time and the fact that you were eating for two made it feel like you were starving.

“I’ll get your bags Y/N, don’t worry!” You nodded, relieved. Veronica followed you upstairs and you opened the door to put the new things for the baby in her room.

“Y/N WAIT DON’T.” You didn’t even hear her as you’d already opened it. Inside we’re John and Brian, and an almost fully done nursery. There was a crib, the walls were pink and purple with clouds all over them, a changing table next to the crib, and even a rocking chair. You’d never said anything about how you wanted it to look, to anyone.

“Nice to see you Y/N, you look lovely. We’ll give you two some privacy.” John nodded to you, following Veronica out of the room.

“What are you doing here Brian?” You asked.

“I needed to come see you. I know about the baby, someone let it slip at the studio. I couldn’t let you do this by yourself.” He stepped a little closer to you, but you backed away.

“I’m doing just fine on my own, Incase you haven’t noticed. What’s the real reason you’re here?” You knew he had another reason. People didn’t just change overnight, especially rockstars stuck in their ways.

“I’m sorry Y/N. I don’t know how else to say it.” His face looked heavy and his eyes sadder than you’d ever seen them, “I’m so so sorry. I’m not a great person, I know that. But I’ve been working on it. Ask the boys, I don’t go out all the time anymore. I swear I haven’t been with anyone else.”

“How am I supposed to believe that?” Your questions seemed harsh but you weren’t going to take him back just like that.

“I don’t know. I swear it’s true. Ever since I left I haven’t stopped thinking about you. Once I found out about the baby I haven’t been sleeping. All I want is to be able to be there for the two of you. I want us to be a family more than anything. Please, Y/N. I will spend every day for the rest of my life making it up to you. I promise.” At this point he was down on his knees, almost at your feet.

Brian was never one to grovel. Ever since that night you’d held a grudge, but everything in you was telling you to let it go. You’d wanted a family for a long time and now you had it. All you had to do was forgive him, but it wasn’t that easy.

“Stand up Brian.” He did, wiping the tears from his cheeks. You’d only seen him cry a few times before and definitely not like this.

“Brian, look at me.” His eyes met yours, for the first time in awhile.

“You have to promise you’ll do better. You have to set an example for our daughter, she deserves that. If you can do that, we can be a family.” You smiled. You wanted happiness and so did Brian. Both of you had been hurting long enough.

“I promise, oh my god I promise I promise I promise.” He kept repeating that over and over between kissing you, holding your face in his hands. When he was done, he rested his forehead against yours.

“I’m so sorry Y/N.” He whispered. “I know.”

He bent down, kissing your stomach a few times. He felt something and he looked up at you.

“She knows her Daddy is home.” He stayed there for a little while longer as you could tell he felt bad for missing so much. She’d been kicking for weeks and almost never stopped, but you knew it would make Brian happy. The healing process could finally begin.

—————

Permanent taglist: @jiswoogannon @aussienerdgirl @im-justatrashcan @one-thousandlies @deja-entendus @fatbottomedcurls @tichtaylor @goodoldfashionrogerboy @sohoneyspreadyourwings @rogerina-deacon @punkgeekchic @super-hereos-are-my-life @benfckinghardy @lv7867 @the-baby-bookworm @rogertqueen @danny-fucking-mercury @bensrhapsody @brownhardyho @wittywallflowersworld @joemhazzello @deacytits @rogertaylors-lipgloss @thelastgalacticcat @xtrashmammalstefx @happy-at-home @radio-ga-gay @queenbbarnes @ezmina98 @joemazzelloswigs @littlemisscaptainfandom @scarecrowmax @rogershamsandwich @theborhapboysawakenedmywhatever @littledarlingwellaway @thatsjustginarose @instantezra @toomuchtellyneck

❤️If you wanna be added to my taglist, let me know! ❤️

Masterlist Masterpost <- right there!

#brian may #brian may x reader #brian may fluff #brian may angst #brian may x reader angst #brian may x reader fluff #fluff #angst #brian may imagine #70s brian may #70s brian may x reader #danielle writes #imagine

250 notes · View notes

lifesasickjoke · 5 years

Text

The Dirt

The Dirt - part 1

part 2

Pairing: Douglas!Nikki x Reader

Word count: 2809

Chapter summary: After Nikki finished playing his last gig with his band he had enough of, he and (Y/N) set out to form a new band with the drummer they met at the restaurant (Y/N) worked at. Not soon after, they have also found a snarky little lead guitarist called Mick and are now just missing their lead singer.

Warnings: A bit of swearing

I met Nikki Sixx when he was still Frank Carlton Feranna, Jr.

I tried to mug the scrawny little kid with the brownish hair falling into his eyes. He was a little over two years older than me and living on the streets, just like I did.

He took me into his care when we met each other again two weeks later, when I tried to mug him the second time (tried. He practically beat me up for the attempt) in a dark alleyway, where this group of older street rats drew a knife on me (also for attempted pickpocketing).

He saved me from possible death that day, and we have got each other's backs ever since.

Countless times have we been running from the cops, or bailing each other out of difficult situations. We've had the time of our lives until we both could leave the juvenile home.

Then real life started. Nikki joined the band after band playing the guitar while I waitressed in a nearby diner cafe. We both pulled together money to buy a shitty flat on the same road as the local hotspot for teenagers, the ‘Whiskey A Go Go’ club, where Nikki was playing tonight with the band he was currently in, London.

It is 1981.

I wanted to go an see the performance but it was still my shift at the diner I was working at so instead of being in the front row cheering on my best friend, I stood at the counter in a stupid little pink dress and a white apron.

I eyed the watch, seeing the minutes slowly stick by. I could of course always just ditch my job to watch Nikki play in the clubs, but we needed the money for rent and other life necessities.

The minute hand finally landed on it's desired spot. The concert would be over now.

I was already waiting for Nikki to walk through the diner doors as soon as more people filled the diner to hang out after the concert. I did tell him to meet me here after, dinner and drinks on me, so when Nikki did finally show up a couple of minutes late on the other side of the counter,

I was already worried. He would never miss a free drink opportunity. Ever.

‘Hey.’ he coyly said as he leaned against the counter with his back to me.

He was hoping to hide the blood that was dripping from his nose from me. Unfortunately for him though, the blood was pretty obvious.

‘Hey. Did you get into another fight?’ I asked as I put some orders from customers onto my tray.

Nikki turned and slumped onto the bar stool, elbow propped up and his head resting on his hand.

‘Yeah.’ he admitted, a small teasing smile playing at his lips. I raised a knowing eyebrow at him.

‘Right. You know where the bathroom is.’ I jerked my finger over my shoulder. Nikki dropped his head and dragged himself around the counter and disappear into the employees only room.

When he came back, most blood cleaned off his face, my shift was over. I dropped off my last orders as Nikki found a table and a newspaper. I disposed my apron and slid into the booth he was sitting at with two drinks and slid one over to him. He hummed and continued to leaf through the newspaper as he sipped the drink.

‘So. How'd it go?’ I encouraged a conversation.

Nikki only looked me dead in the eye with an annoyed gaze. It was his ‘‘isn't it obvious’’ look.

I laughed off the sternly playful look he would only give me.

‘Alright. I won't ask.’

But I still looked at him with big pleading eyes begging him to tell me. It was only his mistake to look back up at me from the newspaper when he figured I was too silent.

‘No.’ he warned.

‘Please?’ I asked nicely and wiggled my eyebrows. It made him suppress a chuckle.

‘No.’

‘Fine.’ I teasingly pouted and leaned back in my seat, arms crossed and avoiding his gaze. But out of the corners of my eyes, I saw him debate whether or not he should tell me. I knew he would give in eventually.

I dropped the subject though, losing interest in why. Instead, I ripped a tissue from the tissue dispenser and handed it to him.

‘Your nose is starting to bleed again.’ I said. He took the tissue and held it against his nose and pinched his nose bridge shut with his other hand.

‘Thanks.’ he nodded, with a more off-sounding voice.

A different waitress came over and sat down a plate of toast and beans for Nikki, but he seemed too occupied to eat it. So, I pulled it over and dug in.

‘Hey, that was badass, dude.’ a new voice said. A tall guy appeared out of nowhere and slapped Nikki's arms. He wore a bright yellow shirt under a leather jacket accompanied with incredibly tight leopard-printed pants. Two drum sticks were tucked behind his belt.

‘The show, not the nose, but-’ he continued, ‘the nose was pretty badass too.’

‘The singer’s an asshole.‘ Nikki grunted.

The stranger bounced on the spot excitedly, his long black hair bouncing with him.

‘I know, I saw. Hey, fuck him, though. He deserved it.’

When Nikki didn't answer though, the stranger looked at me, silently asking if he had said something wrong. I just smiled at him and leant back into my seat again.

‘I got your poster on my bedroom wall.’ the stranger broke the awkward silence.

I nearly choked on my drink because I tried to not laugh. Nikki gave him a stern look, without the playfulness I always get. The strangers face fell as he realised what he had just said.

The stranger groaned, ‘I can't believe I just said that.’

‘Take the fucking poster down, man. London's over.’ Nikki said. I gasped and leaned back towards him.

‘What? You could have at least told me that.’

A waitress came over to our table before nikki got the chance to reply.

‘Anything else I can get you, boys?’ she asked. The stranger slid into the space next to me.

Nikki put on his ‘‘good boy’’ persona and kindly asked the waitress, ‘could you get me a Jack and Coke?’

The waitress smiled at him, then turned to the stranger sitting next to me.

‘And for you, hon?’

‘Blueberry pancakes, please.’

She also turned to me, but I politely declined any offer.

‘My new band is gonna be something nobody's ever fuckin’ seen before.’ Nikki said when the waitress left. He took out a red pen and circled an ad on the page he was reading. The stranger suddenly pulled out one of his drum sticks, twirled it dangerously close to my face, and used it to point at an add in the newspaper. This startled both Nikki and me.

‘That dude looks pretty cool.’ he commented.

With his head still down at the paper, Nikki looked at me through his eyelashes with a small smile, before sitting upright and turning his head to the stranger.

‘Do you carry those with you everywhere?’ he asked.

‘Yeah.’ the man sitting next to me nodded and twirled one of the strum sticks in his hand.

I looked at the complex movement in amazement.

‘Where’d you learn to do that?’

The stranger stopped twirling the drum stick.

‘High school marching band.’ he defeatedly admitted.

Before anyone else could comment, he added, ‘hey, but I rock too.’

The waitress came back and sat a glass of Coca Cola and a smaller bottle of jack in front of Nikki.

‘Thank you, Dottie.’ he sighed sweetly.

‘Only for you.’ the waitress nodded. When she left, Nikki unscrewed the jack bottle and swung it back. I leaned across the table and grabbed the Coke (Nikki would usually let me have his Cokes so at this point I didn't even bother to ask before i took it).

A couple of days later, back in the apartment Nikki and I shared.

As Nikki, Tommy (the drummer) and Alex (the blond haired auditioner) jammed away on a few chords, I sat on the sofa opposite to them reading a book.

‘Woah, woah, woah!’ Nikki interrupted, the bass of the song died out soon followed by Alex and drum. I looked over at the group out of interest.

‘What the fuck, dude?’ Nikki accused Alex ‘that's not what I showed you, man.’

‘Yeah, I know, but it's not like anything I've ever played before man.’ he replied.

Nikki sighed in defeat and turned to me silently begging me to make him stop complaining.

‘That's the fucking point, man.’

I shut my book and stood up abruptly

‘Let's take a break.’ I suggested.

Nikki put down his bass and stretched. I pulled his shirt sleeve and motioned my head towards the door.

‘Tommy, you too.’ I called back, motioning towards the door.

We could hear Alex continuing his practice of the few chords. Tommy laughed at his failed attempts.

I held out my lighter for Tommy who had a fresh cigarette sticking out of his mouth as we all leant over the railing. I don't smoke myself, but I always carry a lighter for my friends.

‘I'm just not feeling it man. I can't put my...my...’ Nikki complained.

‘He's a rhythm guy, man. We‘ll sound better when we find a lead.’ Tommy reassured.

‘I think you guys already sound great.’ I said. I tried to offer the group more confidence.

A car pulled up in front of the apartment building, loud rock music blaring from its radio. The car tires squealed and the drivers' door opened.

‘Holy shit.’ Nikki smiled. A man got out of the car and slowly walked towards it's back where the trunk window was left open to make room for a gigantic speaker.

‘Check this dude out.’ Tommy chuckled.

He took one more drag from his cigarette before skipping down the steps to help the man.

‘Who’s he?’ I asked.

Nikki just shrugged.

‘He might be here for the audition.’

‘Someone as old as him?’ I questioned. Nikki shrugged again and pushed off the railing to make his way down the steps as well.

I watched from the terrace as Tommy helped the man carry the speaker over.

‘I'm the drummer’ Tommy introduced himself.

‘Scrawny for a drummer.’ the man said. I scoffed in agreement.

‘I used to be in Suite 19, so…’ Tommy droned like it explained everything.

‘Shitty band.’ the man said.

‘Hey, man, did you ever even see us play?’ Tommy asked in offence.

‘Suite 19? Don't need to. Band with a shitty name, ten times out of ten, shitty band.’ the man replied in a cold tone. His whole dark outfit and pale skin as well as his black hair made him stand out from all the people i have ever seen before. In a way, he kinda reminds me of a vampire.

They reached the stairs and slowly made their way up.

‘Hey.’ the man greeted Nikki.

‘Hey, man.’ Nikki answered with a small nod.

‘What the fuck do you know?’ I could hear Tommy continuing to argue, not accepting that the old man would diss his previous band like this.

‘Been in a lot of bands with shitty names.’ the man grunted as they made their way up the stairs. I leaned further over the railing and spoke to Nikki.

‘I think I like him. We’re keeping him.’

Nikki craned his neck to look up at me, he squinted against the sun.

‘Depends on how well he plays. Besides, I get to decide who's in or not.’

‘Alright, alright.’ I agreed and opened the door to the flat for Tommy, then skidded back to the railing, ‘But you love me dearly and certainly take my opinions and words into consideration.’

Nikki turned and smiled at me but scoffed and shook his head. I was the last to be back inside the apartment.

‘So, you think you got it?’ Nikki asked as I flopped back onto the run-down sofa.

Mick Mars, the older man, grunted.

‘Let's just fucking play it.’

He plugged his guitar into his Marshal radio and started playing the rock riff. The other three members joined in after him.

I smiled and instinctively tapped my foot along with the beat. My fingers doing their own rhythmic drumming as I watched the group play.

Mick stepped forwards dropped an awesome loud complex solo. My smile grew even wider.

But i could see that Alex wasn’t happy with it. He brought his hand up and motioned for everyone to stop.

‘Whoa! Woah! Hold up! Hey, mind turning down a little bit, old timer? I can't hear myself.’

I chuckled at the insult, but turned it into a cough when I thought Mick glared at me.

‘Fucking hippie ain't gonna make it.’ Mick sighed and turned to Nikki, talking lowly so Alex couldn't hear him.

Nikki nodded.

‘So tell him.’

Mick sighed again and turned to Alex. He sternly began a lecture, like a father telling off his son.

‘Listen to me. There's only room for one guitar player in this band, and that's me. So why don't you, uhm, pack up your toys and go home?’

Alex's mouth fell open, clearly offended. I bit down harshly on my lip to stop myself from laughing.

‘Okay, I was here first, all right?’

He then motioned to the drum set.

‘Tommy, tell him.’

To avoid the argument, Tommy made it look like he accidentally dropped his drumstick. It fell to the floor with a loud clack and he immediately dove after it, effectively hiding behind his drums.

Alex became desperate, ‘Nikki? Come on.’

Nikki huffed and raised his shoulders in a shrug.

The blond guitarist even turned to me after he saw the disapproving and bored look Mick was giving him.

‘(Y/N)?’

Apologetically I smiled, and opened my book and slid it in front of my face so I could hide behind it. Mick Mars was just better.

‘Really?’ Alex cried, looking at us again for any help and pointed at Mick.

‘You’re gonna listen to this old dude over me?’

Everyone but Mick failed to meet Alex's eyes.

‘Then fuck you guys, man.’ his voice became higher as he unplugged his guitar, ‘and your shitty fucking band!’

He slammed the door as he left. I probably heard him crying.

Tommy chuckled dryly. Then shook his hair out of his face and forgot all about Alex.

‘So how old are you, Mick?’ he asked innocently.

‘Fuck you, you fucking teenager.’ Mick said.

I laughed teasingly but in a nice way. ‘I bet he's ancient. Like a fossil.’

‘Yeah, you're goddamn right I'm old. Old enough to know better than to waste my time fucking around with a bunch of rug-monkeys.’ Mick grunted as he sat down on a stool.

Nikki came back from the kitchen with three beers and a Coke. He handed two to Mick and Tommy, then fell onto the sofa next to me, stretched and leaned back. He rested his arm on the sofa ledge behind me.

If I were to lean back, his arm would be around my shoulders. Which gave that well known feeling of butterflies return to my chest?

He gave me the Coke after opening it for me.

Mick then continued his complaint, ‘I'm paying child support and sleeping on park benches, so I need to know you're not pulling dick here. ‘Cause I'm looking to go the distance. And if that's not you guys, let's not waste the fucking time.’

Tommy and Nikki looked at Mick with their mouths hanging open.

‘I fucking love this weird little guy.’ laughed Nikki as he got up from the sofa.

‘He's real, dude.’ Tommy high fived Nikki, then also tried to give a high five to Mick, who only looked tiredly at the outstretched hand.

‘Sorry.’ Tommy muttered.

Nikki dropped back down onto the sofa and repositioned himself into the same position as before. He opened a note pad with the lyrics and looked over them.

‘So… someone mind telling me who does the singing in this band?’ Mick asked. He looked at me.

‘Oh n-no, I don't do the singing.’ I shook my head.

‘What we need is a dude that looks like David Lee Roth with a vibe like fucking Bowie,’ Nikki interrupted. I was surprised he still remembered I hated to be put on the spot.

‘And I'm not about to settle from some regular looking, normal sounding asshole.’

‘So… we’re looking for a skinny, blond fucker with moves.’ Mike noted.

Tommy's eyebrows drew together and his beer stopped halfway to his lips.

‘Wait. I think I know our guy, dudes.’

Tag list: @getthefckouttahere (thanks for the help my love)

501 notes · View notes

stormtrooper-in-clogs · 5 years

Text

“Written in the Stars”

I wrote this for A Night at the Fandom, hosted by @dtfrogertaylor, for my “secret Santa” recipient @jessahmewren. Enjoy!

Summary: Roger tries out for Smile and meets his new band mate.

Pairing: Maylor

Word Count: 2548

Warnings: the usual (drinking, kissing, implied sex, vomiting)

A/N: I literally had no idea where this was going, but somehow it got there.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You see Ursa Major up there?” Brian asked, pointing at the sky. “And that star there, the North Star. If you follow it like this...” he traced a path across the night with his finger. “...you’ll see Ursa Minor. And if you look over here,” he directed his attention to another cluster of stars. “This constellation is called…”

Roger lay there on the blanket with his head in Brian’s lap, gazing up at him as he mapped the darkness. He could listen to that man ramble on about the cosmos all night. He just adored the way his boyfriend’s eyes lit up as he described each constellation and planet that peppered the sky. Roger sighed contently as Brian ran his free hand through his silky locks, gesturing at yet another twinkling dot with the other one. He closed his eyes as Brian absent-mindedly scratched his scalp, surrendering to his touch. The guitarist’s voice disappeared into background noise as Roger concentrated on the fingers massaging his head. About a minute later, he stopped, earning a small whine from the drummer.

“Roger, are you even listening to me?” he asked, snapping the blond back to reality.

“M’listening,” he mumbled, opening his eyes again.

“Really?” Brian smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Then what are the brightest stars in the sky?”

A mischievous grin spread across Roger’s face at the question. “Your eyes,” he answered, teasing him.

Brian blushed at Roger’s response, a hand shooting up to hide his dopey grin. He usually didn’t get this flustered over one simple comment, but Roger had learned early in their relationship just which buttons to push to make him lose his cool. He had the guitarist wrapped around his little finger and he knew it.

But it hadn’t always been that way. After the night they first met, Roger could barely look him in the eye.

The year was 1968, and a young dental student was responding to an ad looking for a drummer. He entered the auditorium and his gaze fell first on the drum kit that had been set up in the center of the stage. He made his way toward it, stopping just short of the instrument when he heard a voice:

“Name,” called one of the two men seated in the fourth row.

“Roger,” he responded, his voice cracking. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Roger Taylor,”

“Alright, Roger. Well, I’m Tim, and this-” he nodded to the man sitting next to him. “-is Brian. “You may begin whenever you’re ready,”

Roger nodded and sat down at the kit. He grabbed a pair of sticks and tested the snare. Ugh, flat, he thought to himself. He tested it again and adjusted the tension rods until it sounded right.

“Perfect,” he whispered.

“What are you doing?” asked the man called Brian, as Roger moved on to the next drum.

“Tuning,” he said, lifting his head to face him. “The snare was a bit flat, so I just thought I’d test the rest of them,” he explained.

Brian looked genuinely impressed by that. It was like he had never seen someone tune drums before.

He hadn’t. Truthfully, Brian didn’t even know drums could be tuned. In a few short minutes, this man, who may or may not be joining their band, had completely overturned his understanding of the instrument.

Once Roger was satisfied with the sound, he began his audition. While he drummed, Tim had brought out a metronome to test his ability to keep time. He would periodically call out different time signatures, and Roger would change the pattern that he was playing. This went on for about five minutes, then the two men in the audience grabbed their instruments and joined him on the stage.

The rest of the audition must’ve gone really well because the next day Roger was officially asked to join the band. He of course accepted.

That night the three of them were going to go for a drink to celebrate. Unfortunately, Tim came down with a pretty bad case of food poisoning and couldn’t make it. Even though it would be just the two of them, Brian and Roger decided that they would go out anyway.

“To Smile!” Brian toasted, raising his glass.

“To Smile,” Roger agreed.

As they drank to the beginning of a new era in their lives, Roger couldn’t help but notice Brian’s hair. At the audition his hair was straight, or straightened, but now it had begun to re-curl itself into a messy afro on top of his head. With his hair pulling away from his face, it revealed the straightest jawline Roger had ever seen. Now that Brian was right in front of him, and the blond could see him clearly, there was certainly no denying that he was handsome. With his hazel eyes and charming smile, Roger’s stomach was tying itself in knots whenever the guitarist looked at him.

As the evening progressed, one drink turned into two, then three, four, and so on, until Roger could no longer think straight. As he finished his sixth(?) beverage, he could feel the alcohol clouding his judgement. Once his inhibitions were basically nonexistent, he found himself leaning toward Brian, lips puckered.

Brian must’ve been sufficiently drunk as well, because instead of pulling away from Roger’s kiss, he welcomed it. Soon the pair were snogging like a couple of hormonal teenagers right in the middle of the bar. Fortunately Roger looked enough like a girl, so they didn’t get many funny looks.

“You wanna, -ah- take this, -ohh- back to mine?” Brian gasped between kisses.

Roger nodded eagerly, and the pair paid their tab and hailed a taxi.

During the ride there, Brian and Roger continued getting familiar. Turning the backseat of the taxi into a sloppy, drunken gropefest.

The next thing the drummer remembered was waking up in a bed that was most certainly not his.

“Wh-where am I?” he wondered aloud.

His fuzzy gaze wandered around his unfamiliar surroundings, landing on the sleeping body lying next to him. Upon closer inspection, Roger realized that it was Brian! How much had they had to drink last night? He asked himself, although his pounding headache seemed to provide an estimate. And the ache in his groin provided a clue as to what transpired before they fell asleep.

As he tried to recall the chain of events that lead to him winding up in what he assumed must be Brian’s flat, his stomach lurched. Evidently, whatever he had consumed last night decided that coming back up was preferable to going out the normal way.

He threw back the covers and ran out into the hallway in an attempt to find a toilet. On the way, Roger discovered that he wasn’t wearing any clothes! One problem at a time, he thought. As he searched for Brian’s bathroom, he cursed himself for leaving his glasses at home. Eventually his blind eyes were able to locate it, thank goodness. A few more minutes and the drummer probably would’ve hurled on the carpet like a sick dog.

Once his nausea had passed, he made his way back to the bedroom. Apparently Brian was a heavy sleeper because Roger’s “episode” hadn’t woken him. He was still snoring lightly as the blond grabbed his clothes off the floor and re-dressed himself. He thought about leaving a note, but decided against it. What would it even have said? “Sorry I apparently had sex with you last night. -Some guy you barely know. '' No, the best course of action was probably to pretend that it hadn’t happened. Besides, if Brian had been as drunk as Roger was, then he wouldn’t remember it anyway.

When Roger got home, he made himself a cup of tea and tried to put the events of the previous evening out of his mind. What had he done that had lead to them going to Brian’s flat in the first place? What had he said to convince the guitarist that having sex was a good idea? Admittedly, it wasn’t his first time waking up next to someone who was practically a stranger, but why did it have to be Brian? The morning after usually wasn’t so bad because he could almost guarantee that whoever else was in the bed was someone he would never see again. But he and Brian were in a band together. They would have to see each other at every practice, every show, and every. Single. Afterparty. And to make matters worse, Roger had actually kinda fancied him. If he hadn’t been so impulsive, maybe they could’ve even dated. That could never happen now, not if Brian remembered. The blond would be labelled a tactless slag, and any chance they might’ve had would be gone forever.

That night at band practice, Roger couldn’t bring himself to look at Brian; instead, he kept his eyes glued to his drums.

After practice, Tim invited his two band mates out for a drink. After Brian agreed, Roger made some excuse about not feeling well and went home. He knew it wasn’t a convincing narrative, but he didn’t trust himself to get drunk around Brian ever again.

“What was that about?” Tim asked. Even he had noticed something off about Roger’s tone. “Did something happen with him last night?”

“He probably blacked out and woke up next to some disgusting slut,” Brian snapped, spitting out the word slut as if it were poisonous.

There was a hint of sadness in his voice. But the anger that surrounded it was enough to make Tim back down. He knew the guitarist well enough to know that if he wanted to talk about it, he would.

This became the routine. Roger would attend rehearsals, avoid making eye contact with his fellow musicians, and then leave before anyone had the chance to suggest going out. This pattern continued for almost a month until he stumbled upon a situation where he couldn’t escape.

It was a Saturday night in London, and Smile had a gig at a pub not far from Imperial College. They didn’t have a real following yet, so attendance was sparse. But, as Tim would say, “you’ve gotta start somewhere.”

The tension backstage was palpable. Between the expected pre-show jitters, and the fact that Brian and Roger were still refusing to acknowledge each other, Tim was using every ounce of his strength just to maintain his sanity. They had all gotten on well enough at the audition. And they had felt comfortable going out drinking without him afterward. Then at practice they had barely looked at each other. And Brian’s comment. Something had obviously happened that night. But what?

He managed to push these thoughts aside long enough to perform. And he discovered that his band mates were good actors as well as good musicians. He was glad that they were at least professional enough to hide their bullshit in public.

After the show, however, it was a different story. No sooner had they stepped off the stage, than Roger and Brian were already back to giving each other the cold shoulder. It was in that moment that Tim chose to put a stop to this nonsense.

“Hey guys, where are you going?” he called after them, as they turned to leave. “The night is still young, and the bar doesn’t close for another hour,”

As his band mates visibly cringed at his suggestion, Tim decided to try a different approach. He sat them both down and told them very gently that if they didn’t work through whatever issue they’d been having by tomorrow afternoon, Smile would be disbanded. He then went back out and ordered himself a drink, leaving the pair backstage to deal with their problems.

For the first time since Roger had woken up in Brian’s bed, the two men were alone together. It seemed that neither of them could find their voices. It was as if they couldn’t bear to relive what they had done.

“Sod this, I’m getting a drink,” Roger announced, breaking the most uncomfortable silence of his life.

Just as he got up, a small voice stopped him.

“No,” Brian squeaked, eyes still firmly pointed at the floor. “Tim’s right. We need to talk about this,”

“Alright then,” Roger retorted, turning to face the guitarist. “Let’s talk about it. Let’s talk about how we got piss-drunk and fucked. Let’s talk about how I ended up in your bed with no recollection as to how. And let’s talk about how you’ve been ignoring me ever since,”

The rage that had been building in Roger’s chest for weeks exploded through his words and pierced his bandmate like a hurricane of daggers. But what stung Brian the most was the tears welling in the drummer’s eyes, threatening to spill out.

“That’s not how I remember it,” he said softly, lifting his face to look at the man yelling at him.

“Really,” the blond deadpanned, raising an eyebrow. “Then why don’t you tell me how you remember it,”

“I remember us kissing at the bar. I remember the taxi ride back to my flat. I remember us making love in my bed and you falling asleep next to me,” Brian’s voice was shaking at this point. “But my clearest memory from that night-” he took a deep breath and wiped a tear that ran down his cheek. “-is waking up alone,”

Roger was shocked at the curly-haired man’s comments. That’s what he was upset about?

“You’re not mad that we slept together?” he asked with wide eyes. “You’re mad that I left?”

Brian nodded, tears flowing steadily now. “And then you refused to acknowledge my existence for weeks. If you think I’m disgusting just tell me,”

“No! Nononono! I don’t think you’re disgusting!” Roger attempted to calm his band mate. “I left because-” he sighed heavily. “Because I was disgusted with myself,”

“Why?”

“Because we barely knew each other, and I just… threw myself at you. I thought you would think I was some kind of whore,”

“So we’re both upset because of your impulsiveness,” Brian clarified. “Where do we go from here?”

“Well, clearly trying to pretend it never happened didn’t work. What do you suggest?”

“I don’t know,”

“Obviously I find you attractive because I initiated our little “night of fun” a few weeks ago, and you must find me attractive as well because you didn’t tell me to go fuck myself, like a sane person,”

“Right, and based on our behavior since then, I don’t think we could handle a purely platonic relationship,”

“Well, I don’t see a way around it,” the drummer shrugged. “I guess we have to go on a proper date. How about Friday, I’ll pick you up at seven?”

The guitarist cracked a genuine smile for the first time that night at Roger’s suggestion. “Sounds lovely,”

Once the pair had calmed down a bit and dried their eyes, they went out and joined Tim at the bar. Brian ordered two rum and cokes and passed one to Roger.

“I’d like to propose a toast,” he said, raising his glass. “To Smile!”

“To Smile,” his band mates echoed.

“So I take it you two worked out your problem then?” Tim inquired.

“Yeah,” Roger grinned. “By the way, we’re gonna need to cancel practice on Friday,”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: This was fun! I’m looking forward to the next event!

#maylor #queen fanfiction #anatf #a night at the fandom

17 notes · View notes

fearlessswiftielaura13 · 5 years

Photo

20 lessons I’ve learned before turning 20

According to my birth certificate, I’m turning 20 this year. Although some of the people I know would argue that I’m still five in my heart and others say I’m mature beyond my years. Who knows how old I really should be? Throughout the two decades, I’ve learned some very important things. These are far from all the things I need to know about life. When it comes to knowing how to do this very complicated task called living, I’m still a child that’s trying to walk and falling all over the place. And that’s okay. You live to learn, and you learn to live.

LESSON ONE: You more than likely won’t ever have everything figured out and it’s okay to not know. It’s okay to ask for help and there are no such things as stupid questions. You don’t need to be a know-it-all by 20, 30, 57, you don’t have to know (or pretend to know) everything even when you’re 80.

LESSON TWO: If you want a relationship…stop looking for a relationship. I know, I know. Sounds condescending. Throughout my teenage years I’ve had 10+ crushes and none of them turned into a relationship. The second I stopped trying, well, you all know what happened. That being said…

LESSON THREE: It is perfectly normal and okay to date or crush around when you’re a teenager. You don’t need to if you don’t want to, and I advise that you don’t deliberately try to, but it’s okay to have a new crush every two months. You are a teenager. Your hormones are complete and utter whack. You do you, boo, nobody can judge you.

LESSON FOUR: Not everyone is going to love you or even like you, no matter what you do. That is okay. It’s not your fault and you shouldn’t beat yourself up over it.

LESSON FIVE: It is never, NEVER too late to start doing something. I typed this lesson idea...at a gym. Yup. Finally decided to get my shit together, after 11 years of being as chubby as a teddy bear and only after my hip started screaming at me for not doing anything to keep fit. That brings me to…

LESSON SIX: It does not matter how skinny or chubby or whatever you are. Beauty is superficial. You can paint a new face on in an hour if you don’t like your current one. You can’t paint on a good personality though. Be good, damn it.

LESSON SEVEN: All that being said, don’t ever change anything about yourself because someone else told you to. The only person that has been and will always be with you is you. People change, love fades, friends leave. A troll on the internet told you to lose 10 kilos? You will more than likely never meet them again. Does it still seem relevant? Do it for yourself, not for a „shit, you got hot“. Or, better yet, say it to yourself. Every day. Because you are bomb af and I don’t give a shit what anyone else has to say.

LESSON EIGHT: You CAN love your studies. That’s right. You can love learning. All you have to do is do what YOU want to do. Not what mommy, daddy, granny said. I still get remarks about how I might not be able to do my job to the fullest because I can’t walk very long distances. Guess what, I’m still in university for journalism studies and nobody can’t force me to leave, even if they try. Because I want it. Because I chose to do it.

LESSON NINE: You. Can. Do. ANYTHING. I was never supposed to walk and guess what, look at me now. I couldn’t do math for sh*t, I despised it with all my heart and I still passed my math exam. I thought that I would never see Taylor Swift in real life. I. DID. And there are so many things that maybe I don’t think I could ever do as of right now, that I will do in five, ten, twenty years. Only because I don’t think about them as something I would even attempt yet.

LESSON TEN: What is meant to happen, will happen. Destiny is real. Yeah, we make the choices that we make, so you could say that our destiny is in our own hands, but I personally have encountered a very specific case of choice making that makes sense only in the long run. When you look at the specific choices that this person made separately and the circumstances of it all, it makes little to no sense. But now when I look back, I realize that it was all supposed to happen. Don’t kill your braincells over that failed math test (see, it haunts me, I have nightmares), it will be fine. Relax. Breathe. You’ll come out through the other side, most likely undamaged.

LESSON ELEVEN: Your hobbies matter. Your interests are not stupid. If it makes you happy and it does no harm to other people, do it. I had a dream for 10 years and it came true a year ago ONLY because I stuck with this curly headed blonde with a guitar for the last decade. I happy cried for weeks leading up to and after that one. I found friends for life because of fandoms and I love it. There’s a chance of me working as an entertainment journalist, all because I love concerts so damn much.

LESSON TWELVE: Stand for what you believe in. Always. If we all stop standing up for the minorities and unpopular opinions, many people will suffer. It is our responsibility, as people to stand up for the weaker. You have voice for a reason. Use it, speak on what you care about. The worst that could happen is people disagreeing with you. After all, those that disagree and have their arguments, lead to a discussion and discussions are good and those who just yell for the sake of being loud…do they really matter?

LESSON THIRTEEN: This is a really big one. You live once. So live the only life that you’re given to the fullest and you better have something to tell your grandchildren. I pretty much broke the door of Siemens arena trying to get front row at the Bastille gig when I was 16 years old and I don’t regret it. My idol drove me home from his own concert, ONLY because of a joke that one of my friends that was there spoke with her own mouth. I got to see the reality of one of the biggest star’s in Lithuania job and hear an unreleased track that later became a huge hit only because we went ahead and did something absolutely psychotic. I packed my bags and flew to London two days after my last exam just because there could’ve never been another chance. I grabbed the last ticket to a gig in the ENTIRE STADIUM only because I decided that I want it. Do it. Just make sure it’s legal so you don’t get in actual trouble.

LESSON FOURTEEN: You will have to kiss a lot of frogs before you know who your real friends are. Things and people change over time, you may become distant with someone you never thought you’d become distant with. Yeah, you thought you’d be friends forever, I get it. I know it’s hard to grasp. But honey, life happens and that’s okay. Someone you loved with all of your heart may do you so dirty that you’ll never want to see them again. You have every right to do so.

LESSON FIFTEEN: Your views will change over time. Be it political stance, ethical shift, anything. As long as that change happens based on research, learning and growth, I see it as something that should be encouraged and celebrated. Do your research. Educate yourself. Learn something new every day.

LESSON SIXTEEN: Be interested in politics. Vote. You’ll more than likely will live in a country you’re in at least for the next few years. I say, the future should be important to every citizen of every country. Put your input into saving the planet. If you have kids someday, they will live in the world we create now.

LESSON SEVENTEEN: Resist the urge to fight hate with hate. You will not always agree with people. People will not always agree with you. That doesn’t mean you should fight with someone who is hating on something you believe in. They will learn someday, if they want to learn. The truth is, they most likely don’t, and you trying to school them won’t really change much.

LESSON EIGHTEEN: Dream! Dream huge, dream impossible. Have ambitions larger than life itself. And never, you hear me, never let other people’s opinions knock you down. If you work hard enough, you can achieve anything you want, regardless of what anyone else has to say (refer to lesson number nine). That being said, see you at BBC World in 15 years. Or if I stay here, LRT. We’ll see, I don’t know that much about my future yet. The only thing I know is that nothing can stop me from going hard or going home.

LESSON NINETEEN: You do not have to fit into a mold. You are human, not a piece of clay. You like Disney? Cool! K-pop? Great! You’re a metalhead and you would dress all black in the summer if you had enough of black clothes? Awesome! What if you are all of those things and also a feminist animal right activist who loves pop music and writing? Congratulations, you are just like me. Let’s be friends and leave people confizzled together.

LESSON TWENTY: You are NEVER too old for Disney. That’s it. That’s the lesson. You are never too old for some Disney magic. Here, let me sprinkle some pixie dust on you. Done. You will now have a great day.

P.S. An additional lesson: never, I repeat, NEVER trust @taylorswift. She is always on to something.

39 notes · View notes