#chris heath

[m-olenska]

My contribution to Brian Wilson’s legacy is that in 2003 he wrote to Robbie Williams to ask him to sing on his new album and it never happened because Robbie’s father forgot to pass on the message

(In “Feel: Robbie Williams” by Chris Heath, p.227)

[stillunusual]

Now reading....

[fashionbooksmilano]

Kylie

Kylie Minogue, Preface Chris Heath

Booth-Clibborn Editions, London 1999, 152 pages, Hardcover, 26x38,7cm, ISBN 978-1861541376

euro 80,00

email if you want to buy booksinprogressmilano@yahoo.it

A self-portrait of Kylie Minogue featuring her many different personas, public and private, both reflected in the eyes of others and as seen by herself. Kylie combines collaborative portrayals alongside media representations to convey the strange fragmentation of self that occurs in the lives of international media icons.

This personal book, prefaced by Kylie, includes a text developed through conversation with her by renowned music journalist Chris Heath. Alongside this, artists, photographers, writers, academics, pop stars and actors give their response to Kylie in words and pictures. 

The book also includes visual material taken from Kylie's own archives, dating from early "Neighbours" memorabilia documenting the worldwide Charlene phenomenon such as telephone cards and t-shirts, to fan snapshots, off-the-cuff portraits, a visual discography, as well as more recent photographic shoots with some of the world's top photographers including Ellen von Unwerth and Stephanie Sednaoui.

13/12/23

[themarychain]

I’m just past halfway through reading Pet Shop Boys, Literally and I want it known that they are hilarious and I love them SO much

[froy]

Finally started reading ‘Reveal’ 🤩

A book I only wanted to start when I found inner peace and a warm home.

[mieczyslawn]

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ★ . . . my boyfriend’s pretty cool

[hllywdwhre]

The Heath Ledger acknowledgment and “Cillian my partner in crime” has me actually crying 😢

[ikyoudreamofme]

Please…-Fratboy!Chris x Mentallyill!Reader

Summary: Reader is in a bad place but no-one notices until Chris sees her at one of his friends parties blackout drunk, messy hair, worn out makeup and darks under-eyes he notices something is wrong with his girl.

T/W:SH, bad mental health, mentally drained reader, consumption of alcohol,drug abuse, suicide attempt.

A/N: If you are in a bad place please speak to someone it will get so much better I promise. If anyone needs someone to talk to my messages are open. Also love writing sad fics, love you all and thank you for reading. xoxo

PART 2 IS OUT

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

You lay hooked up to machines asleep, Chris sat beside the bed his head on the side of it holding your hand waiting so painfully for you to wake up.

2 hours before

You stumble into the party that Chris’ friend had thrown. You hadn’t spoken to Chris for a few days, leaving your phone at home dead. Your head is heavy as you push through the crowd of sweaty bodies, a bottle of Vodka in your hand that you had brought. Your hair is a mess, eyeliner and mascara smudged around your eyes enhancing the eye bags from the lack of sleep. You trip walking into someone. He holds your shoulders looking down at you. “sorry” you slur going to turn around but he stops you. “it’s okay. I’m Ryan I’ve not seen you before?” He looks down at you his hands moving from your shoulders to your waist, looking up at him through your lashes your, tired eyes saying many words, you shrug pushing his hands off you, stumbling deeper into the crowd of people.

You toss the empty bottle to the side pointing yourself another drink. Someone walks up beside you pouring themselves a drink. “what are you doing?” They whisper stepping closer to you. You turn around looking up at the boy. Chris. “getting a drink?” You reply taking a sip balancing yourself on the table. He shakes his head “you’re already wasted and you’re coming to a party you knew I’d be at but you’re ignoring my messages.”

“Chris it doesn’t matter.” You groan not in the right headspace for a conversation with Chris or anyone. Chris tilts his head a concerned look washing over him. “You’re never like this. What’s going on?” You sigh looking up at him through dead eyes. You stay quiet mumble something incoherent before walking back into the crowd. You fight tears blinking rapidly hearing your name being called out from behind you, you don’t dare to look back afraid of breaking down in front of Chris.

You make your way to the dealer that always shows up to frat parties. “I need something strong.” You tell him gulping your drink. “don’t sell to drunk people.” Is all he says. You roll your eyes pulling a hundred out your bra waving it in front of him like it’s nothing. He gives in handing you the pills before snatching the money out your hand. Walking into the bathroom you place the little baggy of pills on the counter. You place them in your mouth downing it with the left overs of your drink.

Footsteps get louder and closer to the door as your vision and hearing fade out. “Y/n! Open the door please! There’s something wrong and I need to know you’re okay! Please y/n” Chris shouts banging on the door, you reach out to open it before your vision goes dark and everything stops.

[stillunusual]

Now reading….

[xoxo-stellea]

𝑳𝒆𝒕 𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖.

Bf!𝖢𝗁𝗋𝗂𝗌 𝖲𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗈𝗅𝗈 𝗑 𝖿����𝗆!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 ☘︎

𝖶𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌// 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗅 𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌 (𝖽𝖾𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇), 𝗌𝗎𝗂𝖼𝗂𝖽𝖺𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗌, 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗇𝖺𝗄𝖾𝖽?

It started so quietly, I almost didn’t notice. Just little things, like forgetting to answer a text or leaving a glass on the nightstand for a few days too long.

Things that didn’t feel like a big deal until suddenly… everything was a big deal. And then, nothing was.

I stopped getting out of bed. Not just for a day or two- but for what turned into weeks. At first, I told myself I was just tired.

That I just needed to rest for a bit and then I’d get back to things. But the “bit” stretched on and time started losing meaning.

Morning and night bled into each other and all I could do was lay there, still, under the blanket that stopped feeling comforting and started feeling like a cage.

Chris tried, at first. He asked if I was okay, if I needed anything. He sat at the edge of the bed some nights, brushing hair away from my face, trying to coax me out with soft words and warm hands. And I wanted to respond.

God, I wanted to. But everything inside me felt frozen. Like my brain had gone underwater and every thought, every word, was muffled and slow.

I couldn’t explain it to him. Not really. How do you tell someone you love that even their presence, their voice, their care-

It doesn’t cut through the fog? That it’s not about them, and yet it feels like you’re failing them anyway?

He kept the house running. Did the dishes. Made coffee I never drank. Left food on the dresser beside me that went untouched.

He didn’t push. And somehow that made it worse. Because I knew he was trying, and I was just… not there. Just a lump in the bed, barely breathing, pretending to sleep so I didn’t have to speak.

The worst part was I didn’t even cry. I wanted to. I thought if I could just cry, scream, feel something, it might break whatever this was.

But all I felt was a numb, aching hollowness that stretched from the pit of my stomach to the back of my skull.

Like something had been scooped out of me and all that was left was air and silence.

I started ignoring my phone completely. Notifications piled up. People asking if I was okay, if I was coming to something, if I’d disappeared for a reason.

I couldn’t even bring myself to open the messages. The guilt clung to me like sweat, but even that didn’t move me.

I stopped checking the time. I stopped looking in the mirror. I couldn’t remember when I last showered, or when I last ate a full meal.

My body felt like it didn’t belong to me anymore. I was just borrowing it for a while, dragging it through days I didn’t want to be awake for.

Sometimes Chris would lie down next to me, not saying anything, just breathing beside me.

His hand would find mine, even if I didn’t hold it back. And that’s the part that made something crack in my chest-

How gentle he was with my brokenness. How he didn’t try to fix me, just stayed. Present. Quiet. There.

Still, there were nights where I stared at the ceiling and wondered if I’d ever come back to myself. If this was going to be permanent.

If I was going to live like this forever- half-alive, invisible inside my own skin.

But then about three weeks after all of this started there was this one night. I was just laying in my bed staring at the ceiling while Chris was already sleeping.

After about an hour of just lying there, I started to wonder- what was I even waiting for?

Some kind of miracle? Something violent enough to shake me awake?

Like I needed the world to hit me so hard I’d start bleeding, just so I’d have a reason to stand up again?

I felt my body was tensing up as I brought up the strength to sit up. It felt like my body was super glued to the bed.

Like something was holding me back.

But I sat up and looked around the room, then at Chris and then around the room again.

His eyes fluttered open as he saw me sitting up. He sat up beside me looking at me but not saying anything.

I looked at the clock on my messy nightstand

2 a.m.

My gaze moves o to Chris‘ face before my lips part.

„C-can you help me take a shower?“

And right as the words left my mouth he nodded and got up and to my side. Picking me up bridal style and carrying me into the bathroom and sitting me down on the edge of the bathtub.

He turned on the light and got on his knees to take of my shorts and then moving up again, taking off my shirt.

He then moved first my legs and then the rest of my body into the tub before turing on the warm water.

Hugging my knees tightly I waited for the water to cover the under half of my body.

As the water reached my upper waist Chris took my strawberry flavored shampoo and applied some of it onto my hair before gently massaging it in.

„Let me take care of you“

He almost whispered into your ear.

All while sitting outside of the tub kneeling down as comfortable as possible.

As the shampoo sat in my hair for a few minutes he held onto my back and my chest and pushed me back a little so that the water covered my hair, washing out the shampoo.

He gently pulled me back up and looked at me for a few moments before draining the water a little so he could wash my body.

And he did, taking his time, moving slowly, treating me like I was something fragile, something worth protecting.

His hands were warm and steady, like he was afraid that if he held me any rougher, I might break right there in front of him.

Every touch was careful, every motion quiet, like he understood that I needed gentleness more than anything else.

And in that moment, I felt seen. Not just as someone to take care of, but as someone who mattered, who was worth being handled with care.

After washing the body wash off he picked me up again and sat me on the edge of the bathtub before getting a towel and drying me down and wrapping it around me.

He left the room for a second, coming back with a white shirt that originally belonged to him and some of your grey sweatpants.

He again dried me up and then helped me to put the clothes on before picking me up again and carrying me into the where he sat me down and started to brush through my hair.

We just sag there for a few minutes. Him behind me brushing my hair and me in front of him trying not to fall asleep right there.

After he detangled my hair he just tossed the brush aside on his nightstand and watched me lay down again.

After basically tugging me in he leaned onto his elbow and looked down at me opening his mouth.

„I‘m so proud of you.“

„But I didn’t even do anything“

I answered or rather asked.

„You asked for help. You got out of bed. You took at bath now. That’s more then you did the last three weeks and even just with my help that’s so unbelievably strong of you and I’m so proud of you“

I can’t help but wonder why he does the things he does. Why he put up with everything I did or not did?

But that’s something to worry about some other day cus for now I’m just tired.

And just a few minutes of talking later I fell asleep in an instant…

A/n// did I write this from experience? Yeah well kinda I feel like a schizophrenic bitch that just died lol cus that’s how I wished that all of my shit had gone but yeah I’m better now and to end all of this I want to tell you that your illness matters, you’re valid, your feelings are valid and okay. You are valid. It’s important to always remember that’s it okay to get help and that your never „not sick enough“ to get help so reach out so someone <3

[azspicegirlstimeline]

1/14/97 - by chris heath. written during the face magazine photoshoot.

[dampfoxes]

I just wanna feel real love in a life ever after. There's a hole in my soul. You can see it in my face, it's a real big place.

- Robbie Williams live at Knebworth, 2003

[kiwitaskmaster]

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[hardtchill]

Will we ever hear what specifically made Christen fall in love with Tobin? The opposite thing has to play a part in it I know it

i'm actually more curious about tobin

she is the one who went from goofball

to 'nooo, i don't wanna play with her'

to 'this is my wife'

[spill-to-t]

I finally completed this project… 20 male celeb’s eyes 😵‍💫 (should I do this with females too ?🤔)

[cryptocollectibles]

Justice Society Returns! 7 Issue Lot (1999) by DC Comics

Written and drawn by various, covers by Dave Johnson.