#city of lover concert tonight

[hwaightme]

Timezone

(masterlist) (perma-taglist)

🎸 pairing: rockstar!fiance!seonghwa x gn!reader 🎸 genre: fluff, long distance angst, established long-term relationship 🎸 summary: "Only thing that keeps us apart // Is a different timezone" - TIMEZONE by Måneskin; during a long tour, the only thing seonghwa wants is to come home to you, and to hold you in his arms 🎸 wordcount: 3.2k total 🎸 warnings/tags: not edited, language, songfic, enamoured simping activated, seonghwa misses you intensely, he is one step away from swimming to you, seonghwa has tattoos and lip piercings, lyricist producer musician rock singer hwa good luck to us all, words of endearment/pet names (baby, angel... etc) 🎸 taglist: at the bottom of the hcs 🎸 a/n: this is for @starrysvn the most wonderful, beautiful soul. thank you for being who you are, ilysm. and may this small manifestation of our shared delulus bring some sunshine~

There was no salvation for a heart that was on the verge of breaking. No call could replace the sensation of a lover’s whisper, no video could replace the feeling of skin against skin nor of a warm and reassuring embrace. The myriad of details that made you who you were seemed to be slipping through Seonghwa’s fingers, and he was a desperate man drowning in quicksand of responsibility and routine.

Every chord was a strike of the coldest and sharpest blade on his tired body, and the sweat trickling down his face as he yelled his emotions to thousands masked the tears that were welling in his eyes. It was unbelievable, how in the faces of millions the only features he could ever make out were those that resembled yours. In every cheer he could only hear you, how you could make his name sound like magic. The lyrics – a simple selection of syllables, words, always fell short of describing how he felt, and every song appeared trivial compared to the fire in his heart, to your existence in his life.

Too many miles separated you, and he would be damned if he were to say that he was fine with it. This was the unbelievable curse of his work. An artist, a singer, a musical innovator who had evolved from being in a group of hoodlums with a dream to being in a star-studded collective, a band that was paving the way for many others and inspiring loyal and new fans to reach the stars with them. But where was his star? Even when surrounded by the speakers, side by side with his friends on those grand global stages, this question never left Seonghwa’s mind. Losing sight of what he truly desired, he ran into an oblivion.

After the concerts, it was customary for the young man to spend some time with his fans, still on an adrenaline rush and thus were expecting interaction, further connection, and insights into the most recent performance. However, tonight, he could not even begin to find the energy to press the right button. Claiming that he was feeling a little under the weather, Seonghwa delegated the role of publicity man to another member and hobbled to his hotel room, collapsing onto the bed sheets not caring for the state of his clothes, his hair, nor for the creases that were undoubtedly going to form. This was no issue.

The electric guitar, his trusted comrade in composition and emotional turmoil, was left in a black case on the floor. Stickers marking the cities he had visited decorated a portion of the surface, while the rest was another depiction of you. Scurrying off the bed, he erratically shot to the case and brought it up with him, letting it rest by his side so he could admire the artwork more closely. Over many days, you had decided to surprise him by painting the dark leather, echoing famous renaissance pieces and intricate flora. Impeccable, incorporating nods to his and your lives through symbolism, be it in the hint of a star ship, a guitar pick, or a paintbrush hidden in foliage, it was a reminder of a life that he always wanted to live and to keep close.

He wanted to destroy the walls of his room. He wanted to break the glass, fight the agony of the sorrowful monster eating away at his soul with physically radical action, anything to take his mind away from the fact that you were thousands of miles away, and that when he was cursed to be awake, you were in dreamland. He could not even protect you from the nightmares that you sometimes had. He could not keep you close. You were unable to run your hands through his inky black, long and tousled locks as a way to calm yourself. Why was he doomed to sacrifice the heavenly touches and sweet words in favour of roaming the globe like a madman, screaming the same things into a microphone until they lost all meaning? Seonghwa missed you. Violently. Painfully. Aggressively. If it took raising hell to elevate him to your heaven before he would ultimately crumble, he would choose to do so in a heartbeat.

His hands inadvertently travelled into the pocket of his flared jeans, fishing out the device which he had been glued to for the full duration of his tour. At any spare second. Lockscreen – your smiling face, surrounded by the scenery of his hometown when you two went for a visit over the holidays. Tapping in the date of your birthday, he came face to face with a photo where you two were together – a candid picture snapped by his closest friend and fellow band member during a celebratory dinner; you two laughing at a joke shared between yourselves, so in love that every part of you and him were intertwined. Seonghwa wanted to break himself apart. Take his heart and mind out and douse them in cold water so that at least for a moment he could have some space to breathe before ultimately repeating: you, you you again. Fingers flying to tap onto the messaging app you preferred to use most often, though the two of you had conversations going on almost every piece of social media, he scrolled through your chats, relistened to the voice messages and scrutinised every photo until it was re-imprinted in his brain. As if he could ever forget in the first place.

He would likely be a laughingstock, wouldn’t he? A man with the world at his feet, wanting nothing more than to collapse at the feet of another. Sure, his fans were no strangers to the fact that there was ‘a special someone’ in his life, though since he made sure to keep his private matters truly secure, no one knew who was the reason why he woke up even when the day was promising challenge and turmoil. The only sign of his undying devotion that he dared to expose with shameless pride was the tiny red band around his pinkie, a simple line alluding to the string of fate, of soulmates. One night, not too long ago even though it seemed that you knew each other for your entire lives, when you had the chance to spend time together without worrying about work matters and could let time trickle past while stargazing, he proposed. Perhaps it was not traditional, the four words uttered only in passing after you had already blessed him with your agreement. Instead Seonghwa had suggested the permanence of a tattoo as a symbol for your love, and revealed his faith and devotion. Written in the stars, he found his guidance in you. Just like the constellations, galaxies and mythical creatures permanently etched on his skin, he wanted to live the neverending story with you.

As he shifted his grip on the phone to glance at the red band, Seonghwa could not help but imagine what you could be doing right this second. Could you be stirring from sleep? Could you be getting ready for another day at work? How was that one personal project you picked up going? He hammered out letter after letter on driven by what had to be an external power, so much mightier than him. The rockstar bit his lower lip, feeling a tug on one of the piercings, but that made him simply bite down harder.

I’m losing my mind.

Without hesitation, he sent the message into the void, hoping that you would not be too worried and simply accept it as one of his eccentricities as an artist. Finally, he tugged off the leather jacket that had been clinging onto his body, suffocating him, and collapsed back onto the bed. Exhaustion was a beast weighing down on him and pushing him into the mattress. Nothing but a lonely carcass, Seonghwa imagined himself as carrion left for the devouring by devious promoters, producers, agents and the like. Freedom was an interesting concept in his industry. Did he have it? Or was it the case that as soon as he gave into a dream, he signed his very being away to be an offering for the money-hungry world? He was definitely going mad. He needed you. Seonghwa missed you. Feverish, anxious, he grabbed a fistful of the duvet with his free hand and counted the passing seconds, too many of them, but not as much as the distance between where he was supposed and wanted to be, and where he currently was.

A loud ringing jolted him out of his paralysing ruminations – his phone. He rolled his head to the side, and upon seeing the incoming video call could not be faster in wriggling to rest on the headboard and answer. So you were awake, and in a couple of seconds… there you were, hair in a loose side braid, a familiar vintage t-shirt adorning your shoulders. You were at the desk – your home office, cradling what had to be a cup of coffee. Black, no sugar, no cream. Nothing. Just how you liked it.

“Hi baby,” you greeted him with the warmth of a thousand suns, and soon enough, his smile returned to him too, though still a little weak, beaten down by the weeks spent apart. It was still dark where you were, while for him it was already dark. It was easy to face when with you, however – nothing could be brighter than you.

“You’re wearing my old clothes?” Seonghwa could not help but ask, too curious to refrain from the inquiry. You looked down at the shirt momentarily before lifting your head and nodding.

“Yep. There’s been a change of plans so I am working from home today. And… I wanted to have a day-long hug from my fiancé.”

“You always wear them better, and I wish it were me and not the tee, angel,” he sighed, eyes trailing down what part of you he could see. He might be wrong, but you appeared to be a little tired, dark circles more prominent under your gorgeous eyes, and movements a fraction more lethargic than how they would usually be in the mornings.

“Is that what you were losing your mind over?” you attempted to lighten the mood, but Seonghwa could not play along when the joke was a reality. You caught onto this quickly enough, and paused to look at him more closely.

Seonghwa could feel the intensity of your inspection. It was as though you were reading him like one of the many books you had collected. Basking in the attention from his lover, he leaned further back onto the pillows and let himself think out loud.

“We have another flight tomorrow.”

“Yeah, next is the third to last concert, right-”

“I want to fly to you,” the young artist cut you off, staring at nowhere in particular as he voiced his one wish.

“It’s not too long now, Hwa, and then we have a whole month to ourselves. No touring. Home.”

“I miss you.”

“I miss you too, love. But also, I am proud of you. You are bringing dream to reality-“

“Fuck what I’m dreaming. What does all of this mean anyways?” he retorted, making you raise an eyebrow before leaning onto the desk.

“All of this means that you are yourself. You are an artist. A light for so many souls. And if you cannot hear this, then let me remind you that I love you, the you who is so driven, so talented and so hardworking. Park Seonghwa who has been destined to become a star and give hope to millions. You are yourself, and that is what is so precious and iconic about you.”

You had a way with words. You always did. Stepping in when he was at his lowest and managing to drag him out of what he had assumed was an abyss, you were his biggest supporter, cheerleader, muse. When he was afraid to put pen to paper or deemed a melody worthless, you were the one to encourage him to experiment, try things out regardless, and with such strength that now it was a philosophy he abided by; it never hurt to try, and perfection was impossible. What was achievable, however, was satisfaction and happiness with the self. It was more than enough to try. And now, you were the one fearlessly bearing the catastrophic mass that was his worries with the last tour dates.

“Oh how dare you…” he mumbled, lips trembling ever so slightly as he pushed out the words. Involuntarily a mist settled over his eyes, and Seonghwa’s surroundings began to blur.

“No, baby come on, don’t cry, or we’ll be crying together. Let’s stay strong for each other, yeah? Like the dragon you have? Let’s leave the tears for later, and hopefully make the source of them a happy one,” you cooed, your own heart being torn apart as you witnessed your lover’s vulnerability, raw misery expressing itself as the hard exterior of a professional rockstar fell away. The hint at one of his many tattoos made Seonghwa’s mouth twitch into a tiny smile, an adoring gesture to remind your fiancé that you could draw each of the masterpieces from memory, having spent many nights tracing them with your digits.

“I-… Y/N I… I love you so much, you know that, right?” The confession turned query was choked, feeble, fragile, an offering made of the thinnest glass. One that you would protect with your life.

“Hwa, I love you too. So much…”

“Everything makes me think of you…” fatigue was evident, coating his vocal cords thick with a somnolent huskiness.

“Soon, you won’t have to remember me. You will have me in real time. Will you look forward to that for me?”

“Always.”

One topic, another, talking about nothing and everything at once. Trivial matters transformed into beautiful tales. In what had appeared to him to be no time at all, you had to rush into your first meeting of the day, while he was left a little less lonely in the hotel room continents away from you, with only his guitar and your reassuring love to keep him company. A hope, an excitement rekindled in his chest, bubbling up and flying across the bloodstreams into a tingling sensation in the fingertips, and a pleasant, hazy buzz in his brain. Caught between what had to be sleep and delirium, Seonghwa moved exclusively on instinct. In a few movements, he produced a tattered notebook and pen that had listened to his every confession and flipped it to an empty page before setting it down on the sheets.

Carefully, he took the guitar out of its case, and upon checking that it was properly tuned let a few notes hang in the air. The longer Seonghwa stared at the wall, the more confident he became in the fact that he could see you standing there in front of him, and as the words began to pour, it was you who he was confiding in. When with you, he was not afraid. When dedicating yet another song to you, he could not care less for the lack of rest, for how he greeted the dawn. He had a week until the last show, and he sure as hell was going to make full use of it.

The arena was silent aside from a few yells, before they too, succumbed to the suspense. The spotlights were almost blinding, and Seonghwa suddenly felt grateful for the fact that his image allowed for sunglasses. Elegantly perched on the bridge of his nose, they masked his anxiety as he adjusted his microphone, setting it back onto the stand while the rest of the band was exchanging glances and making the last checks before the grand finale, what he had decided would be the last ‘official’ song of the concert, and therefore the tour. Of course, the audience would ask for an encore. Of course, he would step right back out on stage to perform it – the act had already been planned in advance. But it was this song, one that he and his closest friends had spent night and day finalising, recording, even sending off to be made commercial, that would be his final word.

“Distance is measured in miles, and in how strongly you feel them. This is ‘Timezone’,” following the brief introduction, he momentarily shut his eyes and sucked in a shaky breath. In that split second, he did not exist. He was not on stage, he was home. Seonghwa could feel your hand on his shoulder and could float in your perfume. This was no different to how he would play for you in the living room – anything you wished for, he would either perform or learn on the spot or even create. So, maybe, just maybe, you will be able to hear him now, too. And how he was calling out for you, and was counting the seconds until he could see you again.

Only thing that keeps us apart

Is seven thousand miles, running like a mad dog

Only thing that keeps us apart

Is a different timezone

So fuck what I'm dreaming, this fame has no meaning

I'm coming home

Only thing that keeps us apart

Is a different timezone

A roar overtaking expressions of gratitude. With every bow the crowd grew wilder and wilder. Chants praising the song were unfathomably strong, and Seonghwa had no doubt that the videos would go viral. Would you see them? Would you message him after? He did not need the answers to these questions. Not when he almost dropped his guitar as he saw you standing backstage, arms open wide, a staff lanyard around your neck. He was thankful for how you did not mind his sweat-covered arms, his glistening forehead as he pressed himself against you. He was enamoured with how your lips fit perfectly together, piercings and all, as he planted one kiss after another, each one bringing him back to life. He was eternally devoted to every moment with you.

“I told you, soon, didn’t you?” He could not respond, instead choosing to nod lest he break down in the midst of his overwhelming elation, “same timezone…” you altered the lyrics – sunlight after a rainstorm.

“I’m home, Y/N,” he mumbled into your hair before pulling you even closer to him, arms wound tight around your body, fingers dancing on your back as though he was still in disbelief that you were here.

“Welcome home, my love,” he leaned into your hand that reached for his face, letting you cup it. With nothing to keep you two apart, Seonghwa let himself get lost in your eyes, the string of fate winding tighter and tighter until his, and your heart were both glistening in a healing gold, the hints of cracks sealed and more beautiful than ever, standing the test of time, of space, of dreams.

🎸 taglist: @acciocriativity @justhere4kpop @byuntrash101 @shakalakaboomboo @starillusion13 @hongthoven @uwuheeseungie @cheollipop @frankenstein852 @charreddonuts @miriamxsworld @mingigoo @michel-angelhoe @innsomniacshinestar @foxinnie8 @preciouswoozi @wooyoungjpg @nebulousbookshelf @wowie-hockey @hongjoongs-patience @jaehunnyy @kitten4sannie @maddkitt @lightinyreads @ren-junwrld @pyeonghongrie-main @marsstarxhwa @pocketjoong-reads @alyszaen @archivesummer @little-angel-k @yeooclock @yeonjunnie @asjkdk @lucky-cat-cafe @northerngalxy

enjoyed? please consider reblogging and leaving a comment. thank you, much love!

[shinestarhwaa]

RUBY PT2 || CHOI SAN

Read part 1 here

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Rockstar!San x Fan!Fem reader

Word Count: 2.1K

Tags/warnings: sex drugs & rock n roll life, alcohol, unprotected sex, smoking (joints), dacryphilia, oral sex, fingering, namecalling (whore,slut), squirting, rough sex, Loud sex, overstimulation, breeding kink, cum eating, masturbation (kind of??), split second of a handjob, doggy style, bit of biting, bit of fingersucking cuz San loves it

Taglist: @anyamaris @a-soft-hornytiny @whatudowhennooneseesyou @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @pyeonghongrie-main @woosanbby @dreamlesswonder86 @lemonhongjoong @changbinslovelylegs @jonghostie @lovjensoo @1-800-shedevil @glintneon123

ENJOY!

You wandered the streets of Paris late at night. You had just landed in the city and taken a cab to Le Marais, where your hotel was located. You checked into your room first, but decided to go out for the night.

Tomorrow was the night of King Ruby's concert in Paris and San had asked you to be there. You couldn't help but wonder if he would remember you or would've moved on immediately. Knowing his lifestyle he might've fucked ten other people in the meantime.

You remembered the way his fingertips grazed your thigh, the way you licked across his chest, the way he pumped you full of his seeds. You couldn't remember everything as you had gotten so drunk on champagne you must've blacked out.

The past two weeks had been awful, you couldn't possibly get him out of your head. You had been so horny but you couldn't statisfy yourself the way he had. Even now you were finally in your beautiful hotel bed, ready to play with yourself again. It wasn't good enough. It wasn't San. You were kind of worried he ruined your sexlife forever.

At the night of the concert you were filled with joy, worry and a raging libido. You didn't have tickets, but you got dolled up anyway, planning on staying near the concert hall to spot your one-time-lover.

Your eyes were smokey and glittery, black dress short and revealing. Daring. You wore high leather boots with high heels on them, making you look even more desirable than ever.

You waited near the venue for a while, trying to find San after the show but no luck. You ordered a cab back to your hotel as it was too far to walk. You paid the driver and got out of the car, noticing a man standing in front of the hotel.

San.

You got closer as you watched him turn around, a huge smirk plastered on his face. He took off his beanie, revealing his bright red hair. You had seen his new coupe online, but he looked even better in real life. "Missed me, star-girl?" He asked as he got close, running his fingers through your hair, his other hand holding a joint.

"How... How did you find me?" You asked as your hands ran over his chest. "You posted a picture on your socials... You know you really should not post that stuff, someone could see it and come up to you to do really bad things to you..."

"Well, maybe you should protect me then, or... did you come to do bad things to me?" You teased. "After I've smoked this big boy, I plan on ravishing you, my pretty Ruby," San smirked, taking another puff of his joint.

"So you remembered?" You asked. "How could I forget?" San answered, hand grazing your hip slightly, feeling the fabric of your dress on his skin. "You kinda ruined my lipstick with writing on the mirror," you grinned. "I bought you new ones," San said as he grabbed a little bag from the pocket of his jacket.

He handed it over to you, making you curious to see if he got the right one. To your surprise there was the exact same one in there, but also two similar ones. "Three?" You asked, raising your eyebrow. "Well I found the one you used but I thought the others might look nice on those lovely lips of yours. But don't use it tonight, it'd get so ruined. Or maybe... Put it on so I can see how messy you get."

A blush striked your cheeks as you remembered the mess on your face in Amsterdam, two weeks ago. You were certain you'd have black tears running down your cheeks tonight and it made you wet in anticipation.

You took a little handmirror from your purse and put the darkred lipstick on. "How does it look?" You asked. San smiled, admiring your face as he gently cupped your cheek. "Like a perfect doll, my Ruby."

"This one doesn't really smudge though," you said, looking at the packaging. "It will if I'm rough enough." Your heart and pussy seemed to flutter at the same time. San finally finished his joint and threw it away. "Let's go inside then, shall we?"

~

You entered your hotelroom, still feeling the handprint of the bandmember on your ass. He couldn't get his hands off you all the time you were trying to get to your room. San pushed you down on the bed, landing on top of you himself.

San's hand slid under your dress, pushing your panties to the side and slipping his fingertips through your wet folds. His lips attacked your neck as he toyed with your clit, making you arch your back.

"O-oppa~" you moaned out, sounds muffled by San's tongue entering your mouth. The kiss was wet, messy and sloppy, lipstick smearing everywhere. He grunted as he looked at you. "My pretty little doll, for me to ruin."

San slipped off your panties as you lifted your dress over your head, dropping it to the floor. His mouth grazed over your breasts, tongue circling your nipples. "Fuck, San, I've missed your mouth so much," you whined softly.

"Yeah, babydoll? Missed me?" "Yeah... Nothing and no one makes me feel as good as you." San smirked as his fingers slid through your folds again, spreading your wetness. "Please," you begged him.

''Okay, sweetie, it's okay, I'll make you cum so many times you'll forget your name,'' he grunted as his clothed crotch rutted against your thigh, trying to get some friction. San pushed two of his thick fingers into your throbbing cunt. You cried out his name when he pumped them inside you, curling them slightly to find your g-spot.

''My precious Ruby, you're so gorgeous like this, my little whore,'' he smirked, fucking his fingers into your sopping cunt, ''So ready, everytime.'' ''So fucking ready for you, always, for you,'' you whined as he repeatedly hit your g-spot.

''Fuck, yes!'' You moaned out, body squirming beneath him. ''Feeling good, babygirl? You love my fingers in your cunt, don't you?'' "Oh god I love your fingers so much, San!"

Your moans grew louder gradually until you could barely breathe, the stimulation of San's fingers becoming too much, causing an mind-shattering orgasm. Your loud pants must've been heard throughout the entire hotel as you squirted on his hand. San only worked harder, overstimulating your precious, sensitive cunt.

"Please, San, i-it's too much, Please!" You begged and begged as you felt sweat collect on your forehead and the valley between your breasts, where you felt his hot tongue on your skin.

San didn't listen for a single second as he continued to pump his thick fingers into your cunt, his thumb still playing with your clit, making your body shake.

It didn't take long before you felt the familiar tightness in your abdomen again and yet again you came hard, juices flowing out of you. "Good gracious baby you're so fucking slutty for me, look at that, coming all over my fucking hand? My slut...," he grunted as he finally rode out your orgasms.

Tears formed in your eyes as your hips moved against his hand. "Oh? I thought you were begging me to stop, princess," he smirked, rubbing your clit between his index-finger and thumb.

"I-I- Yes, please," you whined. "Hmm, your body is moving on it's own baby, it's definitely disagreeing with your words." "C-cock, g-give me...your cock," you breathed out as he licked your nipples.

Three of his fingers found their way back into your cunt, the squelching noise making his length hard as a rock. "S-San, San, San!"

Tears flowed from your eyes as his fingers pumped inside you. Your back arched and your legs trembled as he pleasured your sensitive pussy. "San, please, it's too much!" You cried. Your arousal gushed out of you as you squirted again, your orgasm making you moan louder than ever.

He really stopped this time, wiping your tears away from your face. "Such a messy baby," he cooed. "Open up," The rockstar said as he undressed and positioned himself above you. Your mouth opened and San slid his big cock in.

San fucked your throat and enjoyed all the gagging sounds coming from your throat. His balls were in your face but it couldn't even bother you, because it was San. It was San. He used you like a fucktoy and you didn't want it any other way.

You had trouble breathing through your nose but you didn't want it to end, loving the way San was moaning and grunting because of you.

"Yes, baby, my beautiful fucking Ruby," he grunted as he pulled his cock out, hovering his balls over your mouth now. You sucked and licked at them as San jerked his cock off.

Soon enough San's dick was pulsating, twitching as he came loudly, squirting his sperm all over your tits and stomach. He panted out and got off you, admiring your cum-stained body.

San was dragging his tongue all over your torso, licking every drop of sweat and cum off your body. He kissed you passionately and you tasted the salty mixture on his tongue. You moaned into his mouth as he groped your breasts, fingers playing with your sensitive nipples.

You broke off the kiss and panted, "Please fuck me now, I cannot wait any longer." Your hand reached for his cock, pumping it slowly so he'd be fully hard again for you.

"Yeah baby, I'm gonna fuck you so hard, so full," he groaned. He flipped you over and you propped yourself up on your knees and elbows, ass up in the air. San smirked as he watched you prepare yourself for him. He reached in the pocket of his jeans, pulling out another joint and a lighter.

He positioned himself behind you as he lighted up his joint. The male pushed his dick into your awaiting hole, filling it all the way, balls deep. You let out a long moan as you felt your body heaten up.

The strokes of San's hips were long and slow, making you yearn for it more and more. "Please, harder, harder," you whined. San smirked as he smoked his joint, the smoke clouding his brain. His hips moved faster and harder, pounding his cock into you.

You whined as he repeatedly hit your g-spot. The way his cock twitched inside you every now and then made your eyes roll back. You feel your elbows get weaker as San's thrusts get more aggressive. His body leans over yours and the smoke of the joint intrudes your nostrils. You take the joint from between his fingers and take a few puffs yourself.

San smirked as he bit the sensitive skin in your neck as he held you in his embrace. You moaned loudly as you felt him pound you in a way you never felt before.

"Yes! God, yes," you moaned as you passed the joint back to the male. He finished smoking it as he kept pounding you. You felt yourself getting closer and closer to another orgasm, your breath picking up. "Yes! Gonna cum!" You cried out as his hands groped your ass. "Good girl, cum on my cock, fucking clench on it, beautiful Ruby," he moaned.

You moaned loudly and came hard, you swore you nearly saw stars - How ironic. San kept pistoning his cock in and out of you at an inhumane speed, chasing his own orgasm. You were crying out his name over and over, feeling so sensitive after your orgasm.

"Gonna fill you up baby, you're gonna take it, right? My precious Ruby's gonna take my fucking cum, fucking all of it," he moaned, speech somewhat slurred. "Yes! Pump me full San, breed me, put it all in me!"

"That's right baby, take it, yeah, fucking take it," he grunted as his thrusts got sloppier, which told you he was about to cum. You felt two of his fingers in your mouth and you sucked on them as he came hard, deep inside you, letting out an animalistic groan.

He pulled out of you, admiring your cunt stuffed with his cum. He laid next to you and panted. The two of you looked at each other but didn't have to say a thing. Right when you wanted to say something you noticed him drift off to sleep. You grinned and grabbed your polaroid camera, taking a few pictures for him to take on tour, so he could admire the mess you were when he was away.

Just in case you wouldn't see him again.

[she-is-juniper]

Only Ones Who Know — an Elvis Presley x Reader slow burn series (chapter two)

Pairing: Austin Butler!Elvis Presley x f!Reader

Type: series (chapter 2 / ?)

Warnings: fluff, some angst, pining, long lost lovers, slow burn, a very intense sexy makeout, brief discussions of racial tensions

Prompt: You and Elvis grew up together; he was your best friend and first love, but he and his family moved away. Eight years later, Elvis walks into the diner where you work…and he doesn’t recognize you. But there’s an intense connection between the two of you. Should you let things between you play out organically, or should you tell him who you really are?

Word Count (by chapter): 5K 

Rating (by chapter): M (mature)

A/N: Wow! I am so overwhelmed by the response to the first chapter of my new slowburn series! I wrote chapter two here in the car on a road trip with my family (lol) so excuse the typos. Things get pretty steamy here but actual smut to come, I promise y’all.

I wrote this fic visualizing Austin!Elvis, but you could also read it with real!Elvis as well if you prefer. The events of this series are kind of a combination of real life events from Elvis’ life and the events of the film; thus, it may not follow the outline of events exactly as they appear the film. Inspiration for the plot more closely but loosely resembles real life documentations of Elvis’ life in 1956.

Please for the love of all that is holy, comment/reblog/send asks if you want to see more of my writing—thank you in advance! ♡, Juni

~ Previous chapter ~

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My first kiss with Elvis Presley was on the roof of his family’s house in Tupelo, under the stars of the Mississippi sky.

We were both thirteen, and he was my first love. Before that, he was my best friend, and before even that, he was just the boy next door.

But as I grew up and learned about the ways of the world, all the good and the bad, he grew up right beside me. We grew closer and closer. And by that summer, the summer of 1948, the War finally over…he was my everything, and I was his.

But that was back then. Now, eight years later, he didn’t even recognize me.

So what?

I left the benefit concert in a daze, with Elvis’s last words to me still ringing in my ears. “‘Meet me at Beale Street, tonight. Club Handy.” I took the bus home and changed as fast as I could. And I made my way to Beale Street. 

I was no stranger to Memphis’s famous Beale Street—or infamous, depending on who you asked. Rich with history and culture, the bustling street was fueled by the memory of what it used to be and the hopes of what it might become. Increasing racial pressures from local coalitions and government entities threatened the commerce of Beale Street and the security of its people, but that didn’t stop its shop owners and patrons from persevering as they always had. 

Beale Street was alive tonight. Music sounded from nearly every joint. And it felt like home to me, for the music that was birthed there was the music I grew up surrounded by. 

The Independence Day excitement in the central city, where the benefit concert had been, must have transcended to the southside, where flocks of men and women filled the streets with invigorating zeal and a hunger for excitement. Every club was full, packed to the brim with dancing bodies and the beat of the drumset or the crowing of brass. There were so many people on Beale Street that they spilled out of the clubs’ entrances, doting each other on their arms, sweating and laughing and dancing.  

I shouldered my way past the crowds on the sidewalk, scanning left and right for a figure that stood out—because surely, a man like Elvis Presley would stick out like a sore thumb at a place like this, a place in which a white man became the minority. There was no sight of him yet, so I meandered my way to the entrance to Club Handy. It already had a long line of people waiting, who looked at me in annoyance as I pushed to the front.

“Back of the line,” the bouncer gruffed when I approached him. 

“I’m supposed to meet someone here,” I said, trying to sound convincing with a sultry tone. “So I was wondering if there’s anything at all I can do to cut the line here to get in?”

The bouncer gave me a once over, but he shook his head. “No can do,” he said. “Special performance tonight.”

I wondered who was performing. “Anything I can do to change your mind?” I asked, despite the glaring eyes of the people I had cut in line boring into the back of my head. 

“Wish I could for ya, miss. But if you’re not performing and you’re not on the list, I can’t let you in. Owner’s orders.”

I left the bouncer to stand by the wall under the enclave, feeling miffed. Of all the nights I was to meet up with Elvis, and it was the busiest night you’d ever seen on Beale Street. I had no way of knowing if Elvis were already inside or not, waiting for me. And if I didn’t see him again tonight, would I ever see him again?

I thought again about the way he’d kissed me in the crowd, and then again behind the stage. The yearning in his eyes. He had the same expression on his face as the one he’d had eight years ago when his family had left Tupelo. If he didn’t recognize me now, all grown up, he had to have felt the same soul connection that I felt. 

As if to answer my own question, a commotion from down the way caught my eye. Onlookers were gazing out toward the street, chattering with excitement. Curious, I peered out in the direction of their line of interest. 

A shiny Cadillac had just parked on the street. A crowd was already starting to form around it—mostly women, but a fair share of men, too, all of whom were buzzing with excitement about the man in the Cadillac.

Who was, of course, none other than Elvis Presley. 

He stood out—and not just because of the crowd, or the color of his skin in contrast to the rest. He glowed with an exuberance that was simply indescribable, albeit a different sort of glow than the one he’d had onstage earlier that night. He had changed into a shirt made a collared pink shirt made of intricate lace that would have looked ostentatious on anyone else, but on him, it looked exquisite. His black hair was perfectly slicked back. He regarded the crowd of fans warmly, shaking their hands and signing books, but he was scanning the street, looking for something. Or for someone. 

For me?

For me. 

Elvis’s eyes locked on mine. His whole face lit up like I was the only person in the whole world he wanted to see—which didn’t make sense, because in his mind, we had just met today. But that didn’t make it any less meaningful. My cheeks flooded with heat as he came striding right over to me. 

“Missy,” he said in that unmistakable Southern drawl as he approached. “You’re here.” 

It felt surreal again to be so near to him. “I thought you might already be inside,” I said in a rush. “But it’s packed. I couldn’t get in.”

“Oh, we’ll find a way in, darlin’,” Elvis replied. His eyes painted a lavish brushstroke down and up my body, soaking in my appearance, and I felt like I might implode. “Should be against the law to look that gorgeous.”

I glanced down at my outfit—I had changed, too, into a fitted dress with a wrapped v-neck bodice and a circle skirt, my favorite dress to go dancing in. And then I looked back at him, in his lace shirt and thin black trousers. 

“I could say the same to you.”

Elvis laughed, showing his white teeth, and the sound was so musical it could accentuate the sounds of the blues pouring out from every club. “We make a helluva pair, then, Missy.” His silly nickname sounded so good coming from his lips. I silently thanked Ray, the cook at the diner, for coming up with the nickname while in earshot of the rocker. It was a good cover for my real name, which Elvis would certainly have recognized. 

It felt so strange, living this alternate identity around Elvis as Missy. I found myself oddly freed by the notion of starting with a blank slate with him. He didn’t recognize me—so what? Missy could be anyone I wanted her to be. 

And Missy, I realized with a smile, wants to have a bit of fun with Elvis tonight. 

His entourage of fans caught up to him then, forming a growing crowd on the sidewalk behind him. Elvis smiled graciously at them, but he was attracting a lot of attention. A few of them were squealing, reaching out to touch his arms—

“E.P.!” The voice came from the doors to Club Handy, which had swung open, and a man was peering his head out. He beamed at Elvis. “That’s my man! Miles, let the guy in.”

Elvis beamed back, and suddenly he was grabbing my hand and leading me down. Before I had time to revel at the feeling of his skin on mine, he was dragging me through the crowd and up to the doors of Club Handy. “Is there room for the two of us?” Elvis asked. 

“Absolutely.” The man let us in, closing the door, and began to lead us up the narrow stairwell. “It’s so good to see you, man.”

“Always a pleasure, B.B.,” Elvis replied.

I gaped. B.B. as in… B.B. King?

“I’m so glad you’re here,” B.B. was saying as we approached the sounds from the club up the stairs. He then turned and extended a hand to me. “And to whom do I owe the pleasure?”

“I’m—ah, call me Missy,” I said, shaking his hand. 

“Missy, you and your date tonight are in for a real treat.”

Life was beginning to take on that same hazy, fantastical quality I had felt earlier that evening at the benefit concert. The kind of feeling you get when you feel completely disconnected from reality, at the whim of the world around you, and all you could do is just watch your feet move on their own and try to convince yourself you’re not dreaming. But when we finally reached the top and B.B. pushed open the door to the club, the feeling of complete unreality was set in for good. 

The club was more packed as I’d ever seen it and nearly as hot as a sauna. But it was the kind of heat that made you feel energized, made you feel on fire with zeal. The ensemble of musicians at the front of the room amplified the heat with a sound like no other. The frontman was on fire, too, and once I spotted his makeup and attire, I immediately understood why Club Handy was so boisterous tonight; they were all here to see him perform. It was unmistakably Little Richard. I’d heard rumors of the flamboyant musician making the rounds through the bars of Memphis this summer, but seeing him in the flesh was a different level of Unreal. 

Elvis turned and smiled at me. “You been here before?” he asked, his voice barely audible over the music and the crowd. 

“Once or twice,” I replied. My roommates and I have come a couple of times prior for music and dancing. But never on a night like this. 

B.B. led us to a reserved booth seat at the back of the venue. The air in the club was thick with heat and cigarette smoke and the smell of booze, but even sitting across from Elvis in the booth, all I could suddenly smell was his cologne.

“Who would have thought we’d have two of Memphis’s biggest stars gracing our presence on the same night?” B.B. King said. 

Elvis waved him off. “I’m getting away from all that tonight.”

“Hardly. I saw all your fans out there, E.P. They love you.”

Inexplicably, Elvis’s expression became bashful. “If only I had half the talent as this guy,” he said, gesturing to Little Richard on the stage, who was putting on an enthralling show for the little club.

“A man like Little Richard could have your talent four times over, Elvis, and he’d still never become a big shot the way you have. All because of the color of his skin.”

I listened as Elvis and B.B. engaged in conversation about the performer. There was a pitcher of alcohol, containing something sweet and made of rum, and I poured myself a glass. But before long, B.B. was standing up and bidding us farewell. 

“Enjoy your date,” he told me with a wink. “You know where to find me, E.P.” 

As he departed, Elvis scooted down the booth so he was seated right next to me. “This guy up there,” he spoke in my ear so I could hear him over the noise. “He deserves all the money and fame in the world.”

“He’s amazing,” I said in awe. “I can’t believe we got in tonight.”

“I’ve got my connections,” he drawled. 

“Clearly you do!”

We watched Little Richard, wailing his heart out as the band launches into a new tune, one you recognize as Tutti Frutti. “They’re calling him the Architect of Rock and Roll,” Elvis says after a while.

“They’re calling you The King,” I noted. 

Elvis shook his head. “They have it all wrong. Guys like B.B. and Richard, they’re the real kings. If I could let them take my place, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

I studied his face. There was a layer of something new to his expression, something I hadn’t seen this afternoon at the diner or during the performance. Something must have happened after the show. I wondered what it was. Did he get flack from his manager about the benefit concert?

His face now reminded me so much of the Elvis Presley I’d once known. The scrawny, shy kid from Tupelo. The one who used to run to my house to bring me half of his dinner when my family couldn’t afford enough for a meal. 

Such humble beginnings, and look at us now. 

He saw me staring. And he smiled. 

“I’m glad you’re here, with me,” he says.

“Why?”

“Because when I met you at that diner, I thought to myself that I’d regret it for the rest of my life if I didn’t try to see you again.”

I raised an eyebrow at that. “You’ve only just met me, you know. You could have found any other girl to dote on your shoulder.” I said it derisively, but with a sly smirk, so he knew I was flirting. 

And sure enough, it captured his attention like a moth to a light. He couldn’t take his eyes off my face, my smile. “Maybe so,” he drawled. “But I’m glad it’s you.”

“But you don’t even know me, Elvis Presley,” I accused him. “And I frankly don’t know you either.” Not anymore, at least. 

He pursed his pretty lips. “That’s the thing,” he said, his voice suddenly husky against my ear. “I feel as though I’ve known you a long, long time.”

Hmm, I wonder why? I thought bitterly to myself. “I’m just a girl who works at a diner,” I dismissed him. 

“But there’s just somethin’ about you…”

I couldn’t explain why, but the notion of Elvis’s attraction to me was equally as infuriating as it was compelling. Of course, I felt the same toward him, but for him to be drawn to me without a single thought in his daft head that he should remember who I am? I wanted to slap him. I wanted to kiss him. Instead, I just downed the rest of my glass with a big gulp and stood up.

“Where ya going?” he asked. I observed the fear in his eyes that I was leaving for good. But I just flashed my teeth at him. 

“To dance.”

Emboldened by the alcohol, I sauntered to the center of the club, feeling the burn of his eyes on my back. What with the dim lights, the crowded bodies, and the haze of smoke, it didn’t take long to become completely engulfed by the crowd.

I joined them in movement with the beat of the music. The movement came like second nature, especially under the influence of the booze. I didn’t care who watched, although as I danced and danced, I hoped it wouldn’t be long until Elvis came to his senses and caught up with me. 

Sure enough, after a while, I felt a tall presence from behind me, followed closely by the smell, a warm, sultry musk, and I knew he’d finally come to find me. I turned my head to look up at him through my periphery. He was tall, and by the sway of his body, I guessed that he’s had a couple of drinks of his own. 

And suddenly, we were dancing together. At first, I felt just the slightest of brush of his body beside mine as he finds his rhythm, but as the music progresses and the press of the crowd gets closer and closer against us, he has no choice but to press his own body closer and closer to mine. Still facing away from him, the both of us watching Little Richard up by the stage in appreciation, we carefully avoided each other’s eyes. But I couldn’t ignore the feel of his hips against my backside. And then, the feel of his hands on my waist. 

The tension between our bodes became so thick it was almost palpable. I rested my hands on his, giving him permission to press his fingers more firmly into my hips. 

Before long, my back was flush against his chest while we danced. The band launched into a new song, something slower, heavier, sultrier. Elvis took the lead, then, pushing my body away only to grasp my hand and twirl me around so I’m facing him. The man’s eyes soaked me up, drew me up toward him, drew me in, held me captive. I soaked up the sight of him as well. He looked so undeniably handsome, even with—or perhaps, especially with—the way the sweat glistened on his brow and how a lock of his hair had fallen out of the neat pompadour.

And then Elvis was moving with me again, effortlessly keeping time with the sway of the music, the motion of my hips. He smirked at me, a cocky, enrapturing gesture, and I couldn’t help but smile back at him. 

“Looks like you don’t need a stage to make those hips move, cowboy,” I purred. 

“Easy to dance when I’ve got a pretty gal to dance with,” he quipped back. His eyes, piercing blue and still lined with the residual blackness from his makeup from earlier, were hard to look away from. Not that I wanted to. He was easily the most charming, captivating man I’ve ever been near.

And he was very, very near, then, as he wrapped his arm around my waist and pressed his hand into my lower back, pulling my chest against his. I allowed my hands to snake up his arms, feeling his lean muscles beneath my fingertips. My heart hammered in my chest as he brought his other hand up to my face. His hand was so big that I could rest my cheek in the palm of it while his fingers curled against the hair at the nape of my neck. When I leaned into his touch, he tilted my body forward into a dip, exposing the skin of my neck and chest to the ceiling. He trailed his lips an inch away from my body, and then pulling me back upright, I felt his mouth against my earlobe. His hot breath sent a wave of chills across my body, despite the heat of the club. 

“Tell me your real name,” he demanded in a low rasp. 

“I’ll never tell,” I replied, my voice just as thick as his. I was suddenly aware of just how turned on I felt, with his hips against mine, his warm breath on my neck, his hands against me so surely. God, I suddenly wanted his hands all over me. 

“Why not, darlin’?” Elvis squeezed my hip, ever so slightly, but enough to make me melt like chocolate in his arms. 

“Because I like it when you call me Missy.” Surely, with the direction this was going, he’d be satisfied with at least that for a name to call me.

A name to call me when we…well…

Maybe the disorientation of my dissociation was slowly fading, because I suddenly had the delicious, terrifying realization of where this could go. 

“If that’s what you want, then, Missy,” Elvis murmured, his hips still moving against mine with that sensual rhythm. “I’ll call you anything you want tonight.”

“And tomorrow?” I cooed.

He chuckled a bit. “What’s tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow can be whatever you want,” I said suggestively. 

His eyes widened. “Well… Tomorrow, I’ll insist on your real name. But tonight, Missy will do.”

We couldn’t make it to the end of the song. 

Elvis dragged me through the crowd, along a back corridor of the club I hadn’t seen at all when we first came in, which led to what looked like an emergency exit by the windows. It was dark and obscured from the view of the dance floor. And there was nobody here. 

Elvis kissed me for a third time. But it was less of a kiss and more of an attack of his mouth against mine, an attack I was more than willing to endure. He pressed me roughly against the brick wall and I lost all sense of reason as his lips assailed me with a harshness and yet a simultaneous softness I’ve never experienced before. I let out a little squeak of surprise, which he consumed with a wanton growl of his own. 

My silent wish from earlier came true, the wish to have Elvis’s hands all over my body. He touched me as if he were parched and desperate for the oasis of my body. I gripped at his hips, pressing him more firmly into me as he moved his lips to my neck. There was a shared feeling between the two of us, between our two bodies, partly the feeling of gratefulness for the sliver of privacy here in the dingy corridor, partly the feeling of intense and critical mutual need for the other. Whatever the feeling, it made me dizzy with desire.

“So gorgeous,” he groaned as he kissed my neck. I didn’t say anything back, couldn’t, the words seemingly caught in my throat where his lips were. They trailed up my neck to my ear, where his teeth brushed against my earlobe before he whispered, “You hear me, darlin’? You’re so beautiful.”

The only breathy response I could muster in return was his name. 

He was pressed against me so intensely that I was practically sitting on the thigh he had me straddling against the wall. The movement of his leg elicited a steady warmth in my body that pooled between my legs. I arched into him and clawed at his body, my mind completely blank of any thoughts except right here, right now, and…

“Wanna get outta here, luv?”

The meaning behind his words was a defibrillator to my heart. Reality crashed upon me. Where I had been existing in a haze all night, I suddenly became aware of the world around me, aware of Elvis’s body, aware of my own again. 

Aware of who he was, who he had once been. 

I stiffened in his arms. 

Elvis, readily listening to my body language, immediately leaned away. When he saw my expression, he took half a step away from the wall, and I regained my balance. 

“Is something wrong?” he asked. 

“I can’t,” I said. My heart was suddenly racing, and it wasn’t just from desire anymore. 

Elvis’s face dropped. “I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable, darlin’,” he said softly. 

I gulped. “I know, it’s just—“ I scanned for the exit. “I—I just can’t do this, Elvis.”

“What d’ya—?” 

He didn’t have time to finish his sentence before I was pushing away from him and heading toward the exit in a rush. But he grabbed my hand, gently tugging me back to him, not in coercion or with mal intent, but in confusion, in an attempt to glean an answer. 

“Hold on, hold on,” he said. “What happened? Was it something I said?”

“Thank you for the ticket to the concert,” I said, “but I can’t do this. I…I have to go.”

“Please,” he urged. “Don’t leave—Missy. Talk to me.” His scours my face for any semblance of an answer for what he’d done wrong. 

In truth, he hadn’t done anything wrong, not really. I knew that, of course I did. But suddenly, I couldn’t bear to let him be with me under the l circumstances. I couldn’t ignore the pain that he didn’t recognize who I was. 

I could tell him. I knew I could. I could tell him, and he would know. And even if he didn’t recognize me, he certainly hadn’t forgotten. How could he have forgotten the way I had professed my love to him like a stupid kid?

But once he knew who I was, how could I face him now after where we’d left things eight years ago?

Meeting Elvis organically was an act of serendipity. And the shared connection we had was unlike anything else. But how could I let this go further without him knowing who I really was?

Before, I had felt confident stepping into the mystere of the Missy identity. But now, it just felt disingenuous to him. 

I couldn’t let myself give into the temptation. It wasn’t meant to be. 

“I have to go,” I said again sadly. 

It must have been something in my tone that led him to finally drop my hand. 

I gave him one last, long look before I slowly turned and left the club, leaving him alone in the smoke and the haze. 

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The Presleys were moving to Memphis. 

Elvis didn’t even have the guts to tell me himself. I’d had to find out through our classmates, who whispered the news throughout the hallways like weeds spreading through a garden. I didn’t even have to confront him about it to know that the rumor was true; he had been avoiding me all week, and that alone spoke volumes. 

I was thirteen. I was in love. And my heart was about to get broken. 

On the day the Presleys were supposed to leave, I concocted a plan. When my parents had gone to bed for the night, I snuck into the hallway closet and took the one decent suitcase we owned. I took it back to my room and started packing my belongings.

I snuck out the dusty window in the kitchen. And I hauled myself and the suitcase down the dirt street to the Presley residence. Parked in front of their house, their 1939 Plymouth was already loaded up with their trunks of belongings. 

The light to Elvis’s bedroom on the second floor was on. I gathered a handful of stones from the dirt road and threw them up to the window until he appeared in the frame, frowning down at me.

He was the most beautiful boy I had ever known. And he was leaving me. 

When he finally emerged by the back door, the first thing he said to me after a whole week of silence was, “You can’t be here, Y/N.”

“Yes, I can,” I argued.

Elvis looked furtively back toward the house. “No, you can’t. If Mama saw me out here talkin’ with you, she’d kill me.”

“I don’t care.” I gripped the strap of my suitcase tighter. Elvis’s eyes tracked the movement. 

“What are you doing with that?” he frowned. 

I straightened my shoulders. “I’m coming with you to Memphis.”

“You’re—” Elvis stepped over to me and placed his hands on my shoulders degradingly. “No, Y/N. You can’t come with us.”

My name came out of his mouth like a disappointed sigh. But I just ground my heels and gritted my teeth. 

“I’ll hitchhike to Memphis, then,” I insisted. “And then we can be together there.”

“You don’t understand, Y/N,” he said with a groan. He threw his hand to his forehead. “You have to stay here, with your family. And I have to go, with mine.”

“Yeah, but—” 

“We can’t be together,” he said definitively. “Ever.”

As his words sunk in, fat tears welled in my eyes. “But I love you, Elvis. We’re meant to be together.”

Elvis just stared at me. “You…love me?” His mouth formed a hard line. But I saw his eyes glisten, too. “You can’t.”

“But I do!”

“Go home, Y/N,” was all he said.

I heard his Mama, then, calling for him from inside the house. He looked back nervously, and then he looked at me. He shook his head as he watched me cry, but it looked like he was trying not to cry, too. And then he turned and went back inside the house. 

I sat behind the bush across from their house on top of my suitcase and cried as the Presleys loaded into their car that night, and without another goodbye, drove away to Tennessee, leaving their life in Tupelo behind forever. 

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A/N: Hey babes ♥ How we doing? What are we all thinking!! Where will this go with Elvis and his childhood best friend?? Any predictions, thoughts, etc??

I’m dying to hear your thoughts about it! Please note that I write fanfiction for free; my only request for repayment is a genuine expression of your thoughts, opinions, likes/dislikes, and predictions about the story. Whether it’s simply a “Wow, I loved it!”, a keyboard smash, a series of convoluted thoughts in the tags, or even a full-out review, please know that any and all feedback is welcome!

Please send me asks because they make me smile so hard omg!

Much love ❤︎ from Juniper

Taglist: I’m on mobile rn so I hope to god this works

@dances-and-dolly-dresses @cozacorner @butlersbitxh @fangirlwithasweettooth @smckinney @shimmeringlights44 @kpopgalaxy28 @mamaspresley @deafeningpresley @felicityroth @callthedarknessdown @wonderlandlovelove @bobbykennedyfan @starry-night-20 @wild-rose-35 @alligator-person @lexthemess21 @pumkiinpasties @touchmetouchmetouchme @londonalozzy @treatmenice @cherryhoneybuns @g0ldenlush @megastar21 @bamitzzsam @smckinney @mirandastuckinthe80s @kittenlittle24 @x-earthangel @yeetfack-blog @sodonebruh @gemstone9 @hoedameronsworld @floralcyanide @likexthexplanet @tubble-wubble @pastelteabubbles @biafbunny

I’m probably missing a ton of y’all rip sorry just send me an ask to be added

[louisupdates]

Review: Louis Tomlinson rocks Brisbane River Stage with Faith in the Future world tour

Louis Tomlinson ignited the Brisbane River Stage on Tuesday night, blending One Direction nostalgia with his new Indie-Pop hits, at the second Australian show of his Faith in the Future world tour.

Molly Snaylam | January 31, 2024 - 7:49AM

Courier Mail AU

Former One Direction star Louis Tomlinson took Brisbane’s River Stage by storm on Tuesday night, at his second show of three in Australia, as part of the Faith In The Future World Tour.

The 32-year-old singer performed to thousands of screaming and adoring fans, with some wearing their almost vintage-looking Directioner merchandise and others in Louis’ Brisbane tour T-shirts.

Tomlinson first performed in Brisbane with One Direction on their Take Me Home tour in 2013 and on Tuesday established himself as an independent Indie-Pop/Brit Rock artist, “making the music he wants to make”.

As the lights went down the crowd came alive with excitement as the band kicked in to accompany him for The Greatest, the opening track to his 2022 album Faith in the Future.

Tomlinson charismatically introduced himself to the crowd, not shying away from profanity, as he welcomed the audience to his tour, “It’s f---king hot tonight isn’t it Brisbane, we’re going to have a great time!” Tomlinson said.

“This scale and size of a show like this absolutely blows my f---king mind, I can feel this is going to be a special night,” he said.

The setlist was a perfect blend of his solo hits, fan favourites, and some surprises, showcasing the evolution of his music.

Tomlinson’s vocals were on point as he effortlessly transitioned from powerful anthems to more intimate moments.

The live arrangements brought a new dimension to familiar tracks, making them feel fresh and dynamic.

Throughout the night, it was clear Tomlinson has veered from his prior pop status and has embraced a ‘mod’ and rock feel with his new music, this was confirmed by him including a cover of the Arctic Monkeys' eerie smash hit 505.

His casual and cheeky northern Brit personality shone through as he sported a black singlet and grey joggers, showing off his iconic tattoos.

He was sure to interact with fans as he wandered around the stage, even taking selfies and posing with his band for a photo in front of the audience.

The relationship between Tomlinson and his fans is noticeably gratuitous and nostalgic, with in tears and others moshing with wide smiles as they danced the night away.

As a major One Direction fan myself – especially during my teenage years, I can appreciate the impact Tomlinson has had on the many young music lovers, who attended his show, during their adolescent years.

Witnessing his fans singing along to every tune, old and new, brought back fond memories of when I saw him perform with One Direction in 2013, seeing the fans who have grown up with his music and the worldwide hype of the band took me back to that night.

Tomlinson’s ability to convey vulnerability and strength resonated with fans, creating an intimate atmosphere in one of the city’s largest outside venues.

His casual, yet captivating stage presence and soothing vocals memorised the audience throughout the show.

Tomlinson said the goal of his Faith In The Future tour was to create a “great live experience on the next tour”, a goal he certainly fulfilled on Tuesday night.

The concert was a testament to his connection with his fans, leaving them eagerly anticipating what the future holds for his music.

FULL ARTICLE

[mxmspeedster]

rockstar (m.armstrong x c.novalak x m.reader)

yn_rock

back on tour! First stop, St. Petersburg, Florida! We have 3 concerts here, the 4th, 5th, and 6th of march.

liked by clementnovalak, yourband and 12,354 others

use1 will you guys add more dates to australia?

→bandmate1 yes! We have a new location

user2 they look so fun

→ yn_rock we’re actually boring, all we talk about is race cars and lego

→user2 clem liked your post !!

→bandmate2 he’s screaming about it, someone get us some earplugs tonight

marcusarmstrong can’t wait to see you guys live

→yn_rock can’t wait to see you race

yn_rock added to their story...

Clementnovalak

life lately marcusarmstrong

Likes: marcusarmstrong, yn_rock and 3465 others

yn_rock CAR BOYS

→bandmate1 Oh god

user3 Marcus and clem being friends with a pop rock band was not on my bingo card

→user4 I need to know how the became friends, knowing (yourband), they probably met drunk in a sewer in russia

→yn_rock Close, it was Canada, not Russia!

→user3 I’m sorry, what 😳

yn_rock

hello AUSTRALIA! Four cities, 7 nights. We’re in for all of april!  April 25, I'm releasing my first solo album, Lover! Boy.  the album wouldn’t be possible without the band, my situationship, my family and friends, the team, and nothing would be as fun if it wasn’t for you guys, our fans, you guys make the effort work, if you guys didn’t support us, this tour, this album, this band wouldn’t have made it out of that basement in Canada. We are immensely grateful to you all. bandmate1, bandmate2, bandmate3, yourband

liked by yourband, marcusarmstrong and 4564 others

bandmate1 Stop writing poetry about your love triangle and get on with the album mate

→yn_rock I’ll tell (manager) your being mean

→bandmate1 you’re*

clementnovalak Always happy to help, y/n :)

→yn_rock Thanks, babe ;)

→bandmate3 Stop flirting on main, there are children here

yn_rock

cats out now 🤠 marcusarmstrong, clementnovalak

Liked by bandmate2, bandmate3, and 4637 others

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[this-daydream-is-dangerous-13]

Fine Line (the song) as Harry’s emotional barometer: a thesis

Fine Line, my beloved. It belongs to my favourite type of songs by male vocalists: straining tenor songs about longing.

Fine Line is the closing track on the album which shares its name. Track 13 on the album Harry held for months so he could release it on Dec. 13, 2019. Blondie’s 30th birthday; the preshow playlist that night featured 2 tracks from Lover. It is haunting on the album, and live it’s even better.

Harry begins while quietly strumming his moon and stars/galaxy guitar with the fox on it. He often starts low, shifting into the upper register for lines like “You sunshine, you temptress. My hand’s at risk, I fold…”. It builds to a musical crescendo where he cries out one final “we’ll be alriiiiiiight” while horns and guitar and keys and percussion swell. It a weeper for me, and a no skip always.

Now that the tour is over, I can find all the stats, and there are some interesting trends;

During the first shows of HSLOT, in the fall of 2021, it was the final song on the set list prior to encore.

Here it is on opening night in Las Vegas, with the loveliest speech to introduce it

Here’s Tacoma where before singing it, he begs people to tell those they love that they love them:

Sometimes, he seems to be up in his feels and chooses not to sing the final line. He thanks the city instead, as he does here on the final night of the 2021 US leg:

He releases Harry’s House on May 20, 2022. He starts touring in European stadiums in June in Glasgow, and Love of My Life has replaced Fine Line as the set list closer.

At the first concert, he plays it midset between Boyfriends and Satellite, and it seems to be too emotional to do at that point in the show. It disappears after that.

He plays a particularly emotional version, following LOML and as actual main setlist finale, at the final European show in Lisbon in July 2022.

It vanishes from the setlist after that. It becomes the most requested song, even more then Medicine since Medicine is played from time to time.

He plays it for a 3rd time in 2022, in São Paulo. Coming out to do the ONLY second encore he’s done on tour, on Dec. 13, 2022 he plays it. (In true Harry fashion, he’s wearing a flag as a skirt because he’s ripped the crotch of his Gucci jumpsuit while 🕺).

He finishes, and in Portuguese thanks the city, the fans, and “Fine Line”.

Think I am kidding? Here are the times he played it in 2022, as per the stats:

He does not touch it during the bonus North American dates, nor in Australia/New Zealand or Asia.

Imagine my shock watching a livestream from Horsens, Denmark on May 13, 2023 when FINE LINE replaces LOML as the main set finale; it remains in that spot for the entire European leg of 2023.

And there are some doozies. On May 28th, on night 2 in Edinburgh, he sings the most emotional rendition I had ever seen. I wept through the livestream.

For interest’s sake, the night before while at MetLife Taylor released YLM and sang Maroon for the first time.

Another doozy of a performance was n3 of Wembley on June 16th

And he continues to perform the song with high levels of emotionality, all the way to the end of the tour on July 22nd.

That night, he performs the only other 2nd encore of the 169+ shows, a 10 minute instrumental piano ballad, and original composition which he introduces after by saying in Italian: “I wrote this for you, just for tonight”.

Thoughts?

[desertfangs]

Picturing Armand coming up with all sorts of creative aka absolutely batshit ways to prevent Daniel from being intercepted by the Talamasca while Daniel remains completely oblivious. “Lover LOOK it’s Lestat right behind you, he’s only wearing a g-string 🫢😜” and then he’s setting all of Daniel’s mail on fire and scattering the ashes in one of his clandestine e boat rides. Or trying to pass Talamasca correspondence as high school reunion invites (“you couldn’t possibly be interested in that my love? Such silly nonsense”) before tearing them off and throwing them out and changing the topic altogether. It all pays off years later at Lestat’s concert when they bump into Jesse and Daniel is like “Tala-what? lmaoo what a funny little name”. Armand has never been more proud of himself xoxo DA 🥹

Right? Dying at the idea of Armand going "Look! Lestat in a g-string!" to distract Daniel because wow, that would work! Armand would have already gotten rid of whatever it was and Daniel would still be searching behind him, going "Where? I don't see him??"

This could be a whole sitcom, tbh. A whole montage of Armand pulling Daniel in the other direction all of a sudden when he spots a Talamasca agent or changing their plans out of the blue. "I thought you had to see this band tonight!" "I realized their brand of folk music is quite droll. Let's go to Prague." Stealing his mail every evening before he wakes up him to sift through it. I imagine even in the chase years, he might get Daniel's mail at the hotel desk and bring him the royalty check while holding back the Talamasca's letters.

Maybe Daniel finally gets one of the letters in New York, and of course because it's the Talamasca, it's impossibly vague, imploring him to come meet someone at some hotel in a week's time and only vaguely mentions their interest in his novel. So Daniel asks Armand what he thinks it is? Do they want to discuss a sequel? It's not his publisher's letterhead. Is it an agent? Someone who hopes to represent him?

Armand reads it several times, expression impassive, even though he immediately knows what it is. "It's a scam," he finally says. "These vultures target young writers. They just want a share of your royalties and they'll do nothing for you." He tosses the letter aside. Maybe Daniel wonders if he should go the the meeting anyhow, just to see, but Armand will coincidentally need them to fly somewhere very far away the night before so he can't make it. Such a shame. Oh, well, Armand was probably right.

And when they try to approach him in person, ooh boy. I know Armand has some pretty clever mental tricks and could probably scare them out of the city for reasons even they don't entirely understand. Like they're on Daniel's trail and then all of a sudden, they feel uneasy about going into the city or into a certain neighborhood. They may mention that feeling or just that they're not able to establish contact, but no one can seem to get near him and he never replies to their letters or shows up for the pre-arranged meetings, so they just assume he's not interested.

Ironically, I think Daniel would want to know all about them. I don't think he'd join them--I don't think he'd give up being with Armand for anything, and certainly not that--but I think he'd find their mission fascinating, and if he hadn't run into Armand, he would have loved working with them to investigate the paranormal. Sadly, he's also one of those people predisposed to get too close and get himself in trouble, because nothing would keep him from approaching a vampire if he knew where to find them. So he wouldn't have lasted long in the job. Although, Daniel would kill for an hour or two in their archives, even now as a vampire.

I wonder if he ever asked Lestat if his friend David could get him in there for a night to sift through what they had. No doubt Lestat was like "Sure, yeah, I'll ask" and immediately forgot and it never came up again. Ironically, I think the Talamasca would salivate over the stuff in the Night Island cellar and whatever Armand has in the depths of Trinity Gate. I'm curious if, after QotD, when they realized where Daniel had been and with whom, they tried to excavate some of their old abandoned apartments and now, somewhere in the cellar of a Talasmaca motherhouse, sits a blender stained with beet juice and quick-dry cement, a Chia pet with dead seedlings sticking out of it, and an electric toothbrush with blood all over its bristles, all in some box labeled "Armand, New York, 1980s."

Thank you for the ask, DA!!! Always happy to hear from you! I will be thinking about this all day.

[lewisvinga]

long time no see | myoui mina x fem! reader

genre; fluff

requested; yes

request; hi can you do a exes to lovers!au imagine with mina please and thank u ( ◠‿◠ )

a/n idk if i like this T^T but i hope u enjoy!

twice masterlist

Mina thought nothing out of the ordinary would happen on her day out exploring Los Ángeles. After a tiring concert, she was given a free day to explore the city along with her members.

As she walks down the boardwalk of Santa Monica with her members around her, she hears a very familiar laughter. She was suddenly hit by a rush of memories as she frantically began looking around.

Her members immediately began to question her, obviously worried by her actions. Mina lets out a soft gasp as she finally spots you by a group of people with an ice cream cone in hand. “Y/n! Y/n!” she calls out, her mouth working faster than her brain.

Mina was still in love with you, she never got over you. She had to breakup with you due to schedules and the fear of being caught by dispatch, but her love never left.

And the moment you saw her, you suddenly remembered the love you felt for her, the love you still feel for her now. Your friends looked at you weirdly as you slowly made her way to her.

“Mina? Is that you?”

“Long time no see.” Mina replies quietly, suddenly feeling shy after seeing you. She felt her heart drop a bit after hearing her full name from you, it had always been “Mi” never “Mina”.

You smile at her, nodding as you let out a chuckle, “it’s been a long time, Mina. How have you-“

“Dinner, want to get dinner tonight?” She quickly asks. Mina saw the opportunity to try to get back with you. She realized soon after your break up that she didn’t care about dispatch, all she cared about was you. She knew she had to try at least one more time.

But you were surprised at her sudden proposal of dinner, but nonetheless you nodded in reply. “My place for more privacy. I’ll make us dinner, our old favorite.” You smile. You held your hand out, signaling Mina for her phone. You quickly typed your number and address in her notes app before handing it back.

Mina happily nods, a faint blush appearing across her cheeks. “Y-yeah. Tonight. Your place.”

.•° ✿ °•.

“How have you been?” Mina asks you, watching as you pour a cup of wine for her.

You hum and shrug in reply, “I’ve been here and there. I moved to Los Angeles a few months ago, I like it so far.” You set a plate of food in front of her before sitting down across from her. “And you? You’re on tour right?”

Her heart skipped a beat. You still kept track on what she was doing, even if she broke up with you. “Yeah. We’re on tour. It’s going good.”

“That’s nice to-“

“I’m so sorry, y/n.” Mina quickly interrupted you. You looked at her confused on why she was suddenly apologizing. But before you could reply, she continued. “I shouldn’t have broken up with you. I should’ve worked through my fear of dispatch. I should’ve worked harder on us. I’m not over you yet, Y/n. I’m still in love with you and it’s crushing me everyday!”

You were shocked to say the least. You remembered the days you spent in your room crying over the break up. You were miserable after only to find out that she was still in love with you. You were in shock, a million of thoughts ran through your head. Mina noticed your silence and quickly yet quietly says, “I’m sorry.”

She began to stand up but you quickly grab her arm, forcing her to stop. “I’m still in love with you too. But you live in Korea, how would it work out?” you quietly reply to her.

Mina leans in, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear as she cups your face with her other hand. “I’ll make it work. Please, y/n. I can’t be away from you for any longer. I just want to be able to call you mine again. Please be mine, again?”

You look up at her, slowly nodding in reply. “I’ll be yours again.” You grab her hand and held onto it tightly, “We’ll make it work.”

[lmjupdates]

TOUR DIARY: AN EVENING WITH LAUREN JAUREGUI

The singer spoke with V exclusively about her pre-show rituals, taking control over her music, and latest release, "Trust Issues" March 31, 2023

TEXT: KALA HERH

Sitting backstage at a historic amphitheater in Mexico, Lauren Jauregui beams with excitement. As soothing meditation music softly plays in the background, the musician puts the final touches on her makeup. This is Lauren’s sacred space, and there’s nothing but high vibrations and good vibes. Tonight marks the last show of her Latin American tour, “Una Noche Con Lauren Jauregui,” which saw the artist visit Brazil and Chile before arriving in Mexico City. And while there’s been plenty of peaks in Lauren’s career thus far–there's been nothing quite like this, which celebrated her first solo EP, “Prelude.”

“I kind of treat each one of these concerts like a meditation, like a mass meditation,” Lauren says on zoom, a week after her tour wrapped. “There's so much energy in the room, and it's an opportunity to channel all that energy toward positive things.”

Throughout the night, she zigzagged between high-octane hits from her discography, lavishing in the crowd’s energy and, in turn, giving it back to them. She opened the show with “Slow” and moved on to more electric hits like “While I’m Alive” and “50 FT,” which were sung by all the attendees. After her hit “Colors,” the stage went dark, revving up the crowd’s anticipation. When the lights came back on, she performed “Expectations” and ended the night with the showstopper, “Piña.” And just before Lauren left the stage for the night, red roses descended upon her from the crowd, showering Lauren with love.

“It’s so special to be able to write music that really resonates with my soul and spirit and then be able to go into rooms with thousands of people who are singing those songs back to me,” Lauren gushes. “That is such a special thing to me, such a special energy exchange.”

Today, the artist continues on her path of producing new music, releasing “Trust Issues.” The personal ballad retells the story of Lauren’s emotional journey–trying to navigate new love while working through old heartbreak. It’s an incredibly raw and intimate look into the musician’s psyche, an experience many can relate to. The accompanying music video, directed by Farah Idress, sees Lauren coming off a performance and immediately in the studio recording. For someone who we’re used to seeing on the stage in maximalist jumpsuits, it strikes an especially sensitive note. Here, Lauren is stripped down to just her vocals.

“I wrote 'Trust Issues' actually after a breakup–kind of at the same time I wrote, ‘Always Love,’” Lauren shares. “I went to Bali, and I worked with a few different songwriters and producers. The song is pretty straightforward. It's about having trust issues and how we all have trust issues. But also how you can feel reserved but also want to explore more romantic connections when you’re unhealed and have that conversation with a potential lover.”

A week before the musician dropped her latest track, she sat down with V to talk about its inspiration, creative process, and of course, touring. For more on Lauren, read below.

V MAGAZINE: Congrats on a beautiful tour! From what I saw on social media, it looked like so much fun!

LAUREN JAUREGUI: Thank you! It was a lot of fun.

V: Do you have a favorite memory from the tour?

LJ: The whole thing was so magical. I went to seven different countries, and each night was special in its own right. So it's hard for me to pick a favorite. But I will say one of the shows that I really loved was my show in Peru. Peru wasn't originally on the list of places I was supposed to tour, but I loved it because it was in an amphitheater, and it ended up being one of the largest venues that I got to perform at. That night there was also a full moon, and I was wearing red. I was able to connect with the music and fans that night really intimately.

V: That sounds like a magical experience. I also wanted to ask you about your tour outfits. What makes a good outfit? And how do you select them?

LJ: It just depends on how I'm feeling. My stylist Raz Martinez helped me curate my tour looks, and we picked from a few different designers that I really love and really connect with. And I had a different color for every night of the tour.

V: They looked incredible. Do you have any specific pre-show rituals to help you get ready for a show?

LJ: I'm pretty lowkey, actually. I do my meet and greet, and then after, I take some time to decompress and listen to some music.

V: Any artists in particular?

LJ: I listen to either some R&B or meditation music.

V: Yeah, help you get into the mindset.

LJ: Those help me a lot. They help calm me and relax the system. And then, I pray with my team. I think prayer is what I tap into the most. Right before I go on, I grab hands with the dancers that are around me and just thank God for the opportunity to be able to do what I love to do.

V: I love that. And how would you describe a typical concert of yours?

LJ: Well, there's a lot of singing going on. The crowds are usually so invested and present. It's so beautiful. And I think it’s a lot of empowerment and connection too. I treat each one of these concerts like a meditation, like a mass meditation. There's so much energy in the room, and it's an opportunity to channel all that energy toward positive things.

V: I can imagine it’s a very high vibrational space.

LJ: Yeah, we need as much light in this world as we can get at this point.

V: Totally. And as an artist and musician, what do you like most about performing?

LJ: I've always loved being able to embody the songs that I've written. When I was younger, I used to choreograph dances and put performances on just getting to do that is so surreal. I had a moment on the plane to the first show in Argentina where I cried because I was like, "Wow, my little me is living her dream across the world.” It’s so special to be able to write music that really resonates with my soul and spirit and then be able to go into rooms with thousands of people who are singing those songs back to me. That is such a special thing to me, such a special energy exchange.

V: I’m sure it is. And as you’re about to drop “Trust Issues” next week, how did this release come about?

LJ: I wrote “Trust Issues” actually after a breakup–kind of at the same time I wrote, “Always Love.” I went to Bali, and I worked with a few different songwriters and producers. The song is pretty straightforward. It's about having trust issues and how we all have trust issues. But also how you can feel reserved but want to explore more romantic connections when you’re unhealed and have that conversation with a potential lover.

V: Yeah, I feel like it’s something many people can relate to. So personally, how do you go about overcoming those obstacles?

LJ: I'm a pretty open person, and I really love until I'm given a reason not to love-type person. I've learned over time to protect myself a lot more. I’ve learned to keep pieces that are more vulnerable to myself until someone proves that they're worthy of trust. Also, I feel like sometimes people deserve second chances depending on the infraction against your energy. Sometimes people don't, and then there's a distance that's created and safe space that's created. But I feel like most people are really just learning how to love and learning how to love themselves authentically and learning how to love others authentically. We all kind of come from a lot of–the world that we live in is filled with capitalism, white supremacy, all of these different structures that really play a deep ingrained role. I have a lot of grace because a lot of people are healing and on their journey of healing.

V: I feel like that's a healthy point of view–to give people grace while still protecting your own energy. I hope a lot of people also resonate with that sentiment.

LJ: A lot of people give people like a million chances, expecting people to change but blaming themselves for the reason why someone won't change. And being like, "Oh, if I love harder, if I do this more–if I give more, then this person will learn to love me." And sometimes, when people break your trust, you must honor yourself too. You have to give yourself grace and be like, "You know what? This person doesn't resonate with who I want to be, and that's okay. It’s also not my fault."

V: So true.

LJ: I feel like people test their trust boundaries often because they think it's their fault, you know?

V: Totally. It’s a tough thing to learn–the sweet spot between protecting yourself and being considerate of others’ journeys. A couple of more questions for you before I let you go. I also watched the music video for “Trust Issues,” can you talk about its creative direction? What made you want to pursue a music video where we see you in the studio?

LJ: Yeah, I wanted it to be very raw and in the process. We go from the live performance of “Always Love” that I last dropped, and we see the stripping back of all the gimmicks–all of the glitz and glamor. You see me in the studio creating, which is a very raw space. And I feel like that's what “Trust Issues” is about–the rawness of being alive and vulnerable with somebody.

[twistedroseytoesy]

Lilia's life is a highway

lilia getting some help to make a song he'll enjoy.

Silly fic cause I feel like garbage on my period. Lilia is a fun and chaotic character!

An: there is an oddly high amount of puns in this for some reason... I apologize.

It was a normal day at the light music club, Cater trying to convince the others to pick some sort of trending song to do, while Kalim is happily agreeing and Lilia is refusing to give his oppinion to see the chaos.

This week however A newcomer decided to join their little band of misfits. Mc walked in with a determined look in their eyes. Lilia happily jumped at them from his place on the ceiling fan, laughing at their surprised reaction.

"fufufu! lovely to see you here prefect. What brings you to our little club this fine afternoon?" he asked floating down from the ceiling.

"I have a song request that I'm sure you'll enjoy getting to sing Lilia! I've been brainstorming different songs from my world that would fit my friends here." they explained excitedly. "and with Idia's help, my phone is working again so I can share these songs!" Lilia smiled as he hovered over their shoulder as they pulled out their phone.

Once they all heard the song Lilia was ecstatic to get to work, he loved a good rock song, and this one was catered to himself by the school's favorite prefect!

There was a concert coming up within a few weeks, so for once the light music club practiced and was ready to perform. Mc stood off to the side, using tech to ensure things would go smoothly as the club played on stage. magic and effects at the ready to dazzle and amaze the students in the audience.

"gentlemen of NRC! Welcome to the Light music Club's first dinner concert! we all hope you enjoy the songs chosen for tonight along with our final song that's sure to drive you wild!" cater announced.

Many of the songs were classic pop or rock songs known in twisted wonderland. many enjoyed the show and sat and ate from the buffet table Kalim had ordered and had Jamil help prepare. The night went on and as many were now full and content it was time to finish with a banger.

The lights flared as Kalim started his drums and Lilia played his bass. Cater moving to be a supportive guitarist.

"Life's like a road that you travel on When there's one day here, and the next day gone Sometimes you bend, sometimes you stand Sometimes you turn your back to the wind"

Lilia sang as he wailed away on his bass, using his magic to show a road under his feet as he moved around the stage.

"There's a world outside every darkened door Where blues won't haunt you anymore Where the brave are free and lovers soar Come ride with me to the distant shore"

the stage changed to a deep blue, then moved to change the area around it to look like a beach, many of the students oohed and aahed at the spectical.

"We won't hesitate To break down the garden gate There's not much time left today, yeah"

Lilia literally smashed through a gate that appeared in front of him.

"Life is a highway! I wanna ride it all night long!"

The others joined in the chorus, screaming out into the clear night sky.

"If you're goin' my way Well, I wanna drive it all night long!"

An illusion of a car zoomed over the stage as the scenery shifted to show bustling cities and towns on the stage like it was a map.

"Through all these cities and all these towns It's in my blood, and it's all around I love it now like I loved it then This is the road, and these are the hands"

Different maps flashed over the stage and ground. Showing distant lands and distant places lost to time.

"From the Rose kingdom to the coral sea nights The scalding sands to my valley's lights Knock me down and back up again traveling in my blood, I'm not a lonely man!"

Lilia continued to sing loudly, joy emanating off of him as different scenes flashed past as he continued to play his bass and float and dance over the stage.

"There's no load I can't hold A road so rough, this I know I'll be there when the light comes in Just tell 'em we're survivors!"

Lilia tossed his bass to the side and it continued to play itself, as he caught a large tree that fell from above the stage, he swings and launches it over the crowd and laughs as it crashes into the forest. He grabs his bass again and continues.

"Life is a highway I wanna ride it all night long! (whoo!)"

He continues the chorus and kalim and cater happily cheer along to his lyrics.

"If you're goin' my way! I wanna drive it all night long! (all night long!)"

"Life is a highway Well, I wanna ride it all night long, mmm, yeah If you're goin' my way (if you're goin' my way) I wanna drive it all night long (all night long)"

The stage changed to look like a large red car racing along a road. The crowds were going wild, dancing and cheering along to the upbeat song and amazing visual effects.

"There was a distance between you and I (between you and I)"

An image of a clock appeared at the back of the stage.

"A misunderstanding once" A clash of a fae sword against a humon shield. Lilia shook his head before smiling.

"But now we look it in the eye, ooh, yeah! (whoo!)"

The others cheered behind him as he screamed out the last part. He danced through the air as he soloed on his bass before returning to the stage.

"There ain't no load that I can't hold A road so rough, this I know I'll be there when the light comes in Tell 'em we're survivors!"

Lights started to float and flash over the raving crowd. Many screamed and whooped to the beat as they danced on the grass that continued to change colors. Showing different places and times.

"Life is a highway Well, I wanna ride it all night long (all night long, yeah) If you're goin' my way Well, I wanna drive it all night long"

"Life is a highway (life is a highway) I wanna ride it all night long, whoo, ooh, yeah If you're goin' my way (if you're goin' my way) I wanna drive it all night long (all night long, yeah)"

"Life is a highway I wanna ride it all night long (Yeah, I wanna drive it all night long, baby) If you're goin' my way (if you're goin' my way) I wanna drive it all night long (all night long!)"

The song faded out as a burst of magical sparks shot into the air. The crowd cheered loudly, clapping and whistling in appreciation. The group on stage ere winded but smiled as they thanked the audience for the wonderful night.

Once off stage they all cheered and Mc along with kamil pulled everyone into a group hug.

"That was amazing!! you guys did so well!" Mc said patting lilia on the back. Lilia gave his usual devilish smile.

"thank you! It wouldn't have happened if it weren't for you though dear prefect. Thank you for the fun idea and song. I'm quite fond of it." He said patting their head as he hovered next to them.

"We should totally do something like this again!" Kalim said already excited at the idea.

'as fun as that sounds. An R and R day also sounds very nice about now." cater said rolling his shoulders.

"fufufu. Indeed." lilia agreed. They could hear the crowd still loud and clear. "lets not keep our nex fans waiting then shall we? lets enjoy this night." He said pushing the others toward the exit to the stage.

"let's go all night long!" Kalim sang a bit. cater groaned a bit, causing Lilia to chuckle. He couldn't wait to see what other songs they could do together if they could make and enjoy something like this just from the idea of their close friend and newest member.

[ts1989fanatic]

Breaking up is hard to do. And sometimes there's screaming involved. Taylor Swift’s Tampa fans were ready for it and then some on Saturday night when the 33-year-old titan of pop music closed out a historic three-night stand at Raymond James Stadium.

In some ways, the scene was reminiscent of nights one and two. Ornate costumes themed to each era of Swift’s career were everywhere. A birthday girl wore a sash to mark the occasion. Someone in the lower bowl was completely covered in pink Christmas lights. And there were countless outfits that quoted lyrics (including a little Swiftie wearing one that said, “screaming, crying, perfect storms” on a shirt’s blank space).

Save for the exclusion of “Illicit Affairs,” addition of “Don’t Blame Me,” and two surprise songs—”Mad Woman,” with The National’s Aaron Dessner on piano, and the first live performance of “Mean” since 2018—Saturday’s setlist also didn’t stray far what fans have seen in cities like Glendale, Las Vegas and Arlington.

But the last dance in Tampa was unique from the two before it in a way that fans likely won’t soon forget.

For starters, the third outdoor date of the “Eras” tour was a scorcher. The feels-like temperature before Gracie Abrams opened the show clocked in at 92-degrees. The Los Angeles-born songwriter acknowledged the weather, telling the crowd, "it's hot here, I hope you're drinking water." And while she, and especially direct support beabadoobee, turned in solid rock sets to whet the the palate, Saturday's crowd was thirsty for Swift in a way that the stellar opening night crowd just could not match.

Saturday saw only 614 more people at Raymond James than Thursday—and brought Swift’s three-day attendance total in Tampa to a staggering 206,459—but it sounded like there was an extra bowl’s worth of bodies in the stadium.

After screams pierced the sky as the sun set, Swift directly acknowledged the volume before “Lover,” when she told 69,131 of her biggest fans that they’d reached uncharted levels of “vibes, and screaming, and fashion."

“I think what we have on our hands tonight, Tampa, is a supercrowd,” she concluded.

The screams did not die down. At times—like on “Love Story” and during the high notes on “Don’t Blame Me”— her vocals were drowned out by the singalongs.

Before “Mean” in the surprise song part of the set, she said, “The vocal talent, it’s deafening, it’s just so loud, and that makes it so fun for us.”

She wasn’t lying. Fun and carefree were two prominent moods during the three-hour-15-minute performance. Swift is undoubtedly always confident onstage during concerts, but there were several extra layers of joy in her movements from the get go.

On “Cruel Summer,” she pirouetted as if she didn’t have to be on her feet for 42 more numbers. At least twice in the set, through that trademark red lipstick and beaming white smile, she playfully (and spontaneously?) stuck her tongue out at the crowd (first on “The Man” and then after the “And he never thinks of me Except for when I'm on TV” lyric on “Midnight Rain”). The hair flips on “Look What You Made Me Do” almost felt feral, and tassels on her gold dress shimmered as she spun like a kid in a rainstorm during “Fearless,” where she pointed straight at the stage as she sang, “And I don't know how it gets better than this.”

Swift was just 18 years old when that song, the title track from an album that won two Grammys, came out. And despite the growth she’s experienced since, Saturday night saw Swift meet her wide-eyed fans with the same kind of innocence from that era.

The band and dancers got in on it, too.

On “You Belong With Me,” longtime guitarist Paul Sidoti was beaming in an ear-to-ear smile as his boss laughed while leaning on bassist Amos Heller as she belted out, “Hey, isn't this easy?”

Dancer Jan Ravnik was soaked in sweat during the Red block where Swift gave her hat to a fan on “22,” grabbed their hand and blew a kiss. One dancer (and I swear I will update this post with hithes name when I find out) twice stole the song, once on “Style” and again when he took a solo on “Bejeweled.”

In short, Swift, along with everyone else in the stadium, was on fire.

The only time the crowd ever really hushed was on non-singing passages from Evermore and Folklore cuts like “Cardigan,” as fans hung on to every note, just waiting for Swift to come back to the microphone so they could sing along again.

Swift’s Tampa finale felt like the kind of set an artist plays on the last date of a tour that marks the end of a fruitful career. But at 33 years old—despite 17 years of music behind her—Swift is just entering her prime and absolutely dominating the post-pandemic touring game, with no one even coming close. What’s more is that based on the hordes of super-young fans in the audience, a new generation of Swifties is ready to grow up with the back catalog, and whatever comes next, guiding them to adulthood.

So that’s the big question Tampa fans were left with as the smoke from the post-”Karma” fireworks faded into the humid night. What is next?

In a podcast interview released just months before his death, the late-Laker great Kobe Bryant pushed back when host Jordan Harbinger suggested that he wouldn’t have an artist like Swift on in his car.

“I do,” Bryant said, adding that it’s important to listen to people who do great things.

The Black Mamba noted how long Swift has been on top of the game, and wondered how, and why, she does it. He more or less begged to get into her headspace in the writing room, talked about the challenges of re-inventing yourself, and the pressure of having to be better than your last time on the playing field. The pressure to follow a No. 1 album with an even superior one, Bryant suggested, is unimaginable.

“I don't care if you like her music or if you don't like the music. Look at what she's doing—that's frightening stuff. It's unbelievable to be able to pull that off over and over and over and over,” he said. “I look at things like that, and try to learn from her as much as I can.”

Swift fans have learned to dissect easter eggs in their hero’s movements, but only she truly knows what’s over the horizon or when she’s going to get there. Whatever, and whenever, it is, you can bet that her followers will be there—loud, hot and ready as ever—to cheer her along.

Setlist

Miss Americana & the Heartbreak Prince

Cruel Summer

The Man

You Need To Calm Down

Lover

The Archer

Fearless

You Belong With Me

Love Story

‘Tis The Damn Season

Willow

Marjorie

Champagne Problems

Tolerate It

…Ready For It?

Delicate

Don’t Blame Me

Look What You Made Me Do

Enchanted

22

We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together

I Knew You Were Trouble

All Too Well

(Seven)

The 1

Betty

The Last Great American Dynasty

August

My Tears Ricochet

Cardigan

Style

Blank Space

Shake It Off

Wildest Dreams 35

Bad Blood

Mad Woman

Mean

Lavender Haze

Anti-Hero

Midnight Rain

Vigilante Shit

Bejeweled

Mastermind

Karma

[appetite4savage]

Separate Ways (Joe Elliott)

-

request from my bestie @thiswatch-lepparddef-werehi 🫶🏻 friends to lovers with slang era joe!

-

Joe’s POV - August, 1977 - Sheffield

“I got accepted into an American university. My flight leaves in the morning.” Y/N explained.

Y/N has been my best friend since we were kids. Our mothers were best friends and then the tradition just carried on with us. Now, she’s leaving me.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I can feel the tears start to well up in my eyes.

“Because…. because it hurt too bad.” She looks at the floor. “I don’t know how I’m going to handle being in a different country than you.”

“You can’t go.”

“I have to.”

-

Joe’s POV - August 1996 - San Diego, CA

The Slang tour has been one of my favorite yet. We’ve been playing at venues that we probably wouldn’t have in the past, like frat houses and universities. Tonight we’re playing at San Diego State University.

Something feels familiar about this area but I can’t quite put my finger on it. Just deja vu from traveling around the world, I guess.

Just to kill time I decide to walk around the city. I stumble upon a music shop in the heart of it. The bell hanging above the door rings as I walk inside. A female voice calls from the back that she’ll be out in a minute. The voice also sounds familiar but I just shake it off.

Just as I’m browsing through the microphone stands, the woman comes out from the back. We make eye contact and she stops dead in her tracks.

“Joe?”

It clicks in my brain who is speaking to me right now. Y/N. I tried so hard to forget about her that I think it actually worked.

“Y/N… hello.” I scratch the back of my head nervously.

“What are you doing here?”

“The band has a gig at the university tonight.”

“Oh… my alma mater. I had no idea. I must have missed that announcement.” She says.

“It’s been a while, Y/N. 19-“

“19 years. I know.” She smiles. Oh that smile. That I could never forget.

“Why don’t you drop by the show tonight?” I blurt out.

“Uh, I don’t know… I have to do some work here in the shop…”

“Come on, stop by! I can leave some tickets for you in will call.”

“Alright. Sure.” She nods.

-

“Y/N? Really?” Sav asks, pouring himself a drink.

“She was just right there in a random music store I stumbled upon.”

“Sounds like fate, if you ask me.” Sav smirks.

I glare at him.

“Don’t look at me like that. We all know you were infatuated with her.” He raised an eyebrow.

“That was a million years ago. She left, remember.”

“I seem to remember her mailing you letters and giving you her number from university and you never responding.” He sips his drink.

“It would have never worked. We were going our separate ways. She lives here in San Diego now. On a different continent.” I roll my eyes at Sav’s meddling in my personal life. I need to stop telling him everything.

“Whatever you say.”

-

Y/N’s POV

I can’t believe that after 19 years, Joe Elliott of all people walks into MY music shop.

He never explained to me why he suddenly just forgot I existed after I left for university. Sure, I should have told him sooner, but he was my best friend. I thought he would have understood. I wrote him and made sure he had my updated numbers but he never called or wrote back.

Now I have to just attend his concert like nothing happened?

I take a deep breath as I walk through the doors after picking up the ticket and backstage pass he left for me. I make my way to the backstage area, trying to find where I’m supposed to go. Suddenly I bump into another body.

“Sorry about tha- Y/N!” I’m suddenly engulfed in a hug. I’m met with sparkly blue eyes upon pulling away.

“Sav. I missed your bear hugs.” I laugh.

“You know, just because Joe acts like a toddler doesn’t mean you had to cut the rest of us off.” He shrugs his shoulders.

“I’m sorry. Life kind of got crazy over here.”

He puts a hand on my arm. “It’s okay. Joe’s in his dressing room.” He points at a door. “It’s good to see you, Y/N.” He says, walking away.

I sigh again and knock on the door. A deep voice tells me to come in.

His eyes widen upon my entry, as if he didn’t expect me to actually show up.

“Y/N… you came! Good. Have a seat.” He pats the couch beside him.

I sit down beside him.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

“I’m fine… I, uh. Just was thinking.”

“About what?”

I guess it’s now or never. “Why didn’t you ever call?”

He looks away from me, putting his head in his hands.

“Because I was an 18-year-old idiot. I thought we wouldn’t be able to keep up with each other on separate continents. I’m sorry.”

“Joe, I would have done anything for you.”

“I know. I wish I could go back and have a do-over. I- I loved you.”

It takes a moment for his words to sink in.

“You what?”

“I loved you, Y/N. I still love you. I always have. I was just too scared to ruin what we had but apparently I did that anyway.” He starts to tear up.

“I feel the same way. I never stopped thinking about you. You made it hard to do that when you got famous, you asshole.” I laugh.

“You do?” He wipes his eyes, and I nod.

Suddenly he comes forward towards me, kissing me. After all these years, it feels right.

“I’ve wanted to do that our whole life.” He chuckles. He’s holding my hand as a knock sounds and Sav enters the room.

He looks down at our interlocked hands and smiles. “It took you long enough.”

[getoutofthisplace]

Dear Gus & Magnus,

Nene came over to keep you two so Mom and I could go to dinner and a concert. We saw Bright Eyes, who was my favorite band from 2005-2010ish? And those were some crucial years. I listened to them non-stop as I walked across the country. And I still listen to them a lot, but in 2005 I was convinced he could make nothing that lacked brilliance. On the nights Po spent in the hospital before he died, I walked the hospital parking lot listening to "Poison Oak" and "Landlocked Blues" for literal hours. And when I walked across the country, I listened to "Road to Joy" and "Lover I Don't Have to Love" countless times on my first-generation iPod. When I got to Dexter, Missouri, I sprung for a hotel room because I was exhausted and wanted a bed. The carpet in the room was damp and everything smelled of mildew, but when I turned on the television, PBS was re-airing the recording of Bright Eyes at Austin City Limits and I didn't want to be anywhere else in the world. Conor Oberst was my hero in every way. When Mom was nine months pregnant with Gus, we went to Fayetteville to see him with his other band, but it wasn't the same. Bright Eyes was my thing.

But tonight was not a good show. Mostly because he took a lot of anger he had about our state's politics on the crowd. I hung in for as long as I could, but finally I gave up on trying to defend his anger. The people in this audience were not his enemies, but he treated us like we were and that was unfair. He even said that he knew he was making his band mad, but he refused to let it go. Mom and I left early because I wasn't interested in seeing one of my heroes lose total control of his anger. I'll always love his talent and be thankful for the feelings he's given me over the years, but I hope I can forget how he made me feel tonight.

Dad.

Little Rock, Arkansas. 5.15.2023 - 10.26pm.

SIDENOTE: The opener was Good Looks, who were humble and fun to watch.

[appears]

AUDIENCE

It's Ayumi Hamasaki's birthday on October 2 and we're extending the celebration in true ego-maniacal, splashy celebrity fashion, by drawing out the festivities for an entire week! Each day I will briefly discuss a totally random item chosen (not by me) from my Ayu collection. Prepare for praise, disappointment, and controversial opinions backed by love and respect as we take a casual look back in this blurry snapshot of her career. Happy Birthday to our Party Queen, Ayumi Hamasaki!

We have another classic Ayu single here with "AUDIENCE," released in its subsequent vinyl version on Avex’s Rhythm Republic sub-label only a month after the CD maxi-single version. Chronologically, this single came right after the simultaneous drop of the SURREAL maxi-single, and her third original studio album, Duty, two months earlier in the fall of 2000. The song was originally included on said album, but though it may seem like an anomaly for Ayumi to have released a single after its album release, she had actually already done this before when she released both album tracks "kanariya" and "Fly high" as maxi-singles within two months of the release of LOVEppears. All the more for us maxi-single, dance music lovers!

"AUDIENCE" has become a fan favorite since its release, often saved during concert tours for the high-energy back-end of performances. This vinyl version includes three cuts off of the original single: "Keith Litman's Big City Club Mix" on Side A, and the "Dave Ford Mix" on side B, along with the "Sample MadnesS remix" of "SURREAL" by producer Eboman. The Keith Litman version on the vinyl is an original mix exclusive to the format, as the mix on the maxi-single is the shorter "Radio Mix." There is also a longer, extended mix of this included on the EP excerpts from ayu-mi-x III CD005. His remix is quite good, and appropriately "club-y," but doesn't stand out in any particular way.

The mix by Dave Ford is startlingly similar to what we know as the original version of this song, with very subtle, yet hugely impactful, differences. Dave Ford mixed singles and albums for several Avex Trax, and other J-pop, artists (Namie Amuro, Dream, Every Little Thing, Favorite Blue, move, Rina Chinen, T.M.Revolution, my God the list goes on), remix compilations, and other Ayu singles (including mixing the "AUBE Original Mix" of "Boys & Girls," the version that appears on LOVEppears, and tracks on the A maxi-single.).

He is an incredibly, and near criminally, underrated engineer in global pop music and was one of the reasons that Avex Trax artists always sounded incredible, with a knack for bringing out the bustling, maximalist energy of a record and making it as full and warm and just about to blow out of your speakers as it deserved to sound. In my opinion, Dave Ford has helped shape the modern, specifically 90s-early 00s, technical soundscape of Japanese pop music, and certainly that of Avex Trax’s particular brand, nearly as much as Tetsuya Komuro did for style and melody, but he never gets mentioned. In fact, the two often appeared on the same liner notes, with Dave Ford mixing dozens of records, including hitomi and trf, as far back as 1994 (”WOW WAR TONIGHT”? That was him). Here, he brings the fun and richness to a song like "AUDIENCE," a song that with its relentless synths, energetic BPM, and wall-to-wall density imitating the rush and euphoria of being in a crowd seems more like a LOVEppears holdover than something off of the more restrained, cool Duty. It's an incredible song and I'm glad it got its time to shine on its own release. Mostly, I’m glad Dave Ford was a part of it, because it would have been a very different song without him -- you can pick up on t just by the way the energy of it makes you feel it when listening to it side-by-side to the slightly more conservative Duty version). Certainly, his absence has been felt at the same time TK stopped being top dog and the sun set on this particular sonic era.

The value of having large record sleeves really comes in handy with this single: the cover art features dozens of pictures of Ayumi dressed up as different "fans" that comprise an entire audience. No two shots are alike, and it's really neat to see all of the different images clearly without having to use a magnifying glass with the CD sleeve. In terms of jacket sleeves, this is one of her best and showcased just how much effort, time, and thought was put into them back then (the rainbow gradient is not just visually interesting, it’s also deliberate). I've written about a lot of early Ayu releases, but it's worth repeating: this is both a genuinely iconic, great song, and an indispensable piece of her discography. But also: give credit to whom it’s due.

[storiesoftaylor]

Holy Ground (Taylor's Version)

Written By: Taylor Swift Produced By: Jeff Bhasker Length: 3:22

HIDDEN MESSAGE IN THE LYRICS: When you came to the show in SD

This song is WIDELY believed to be about Mr. Perfectly Fine. Because he was in fact seen at 2 of her California concerts.

We also know that Taylor wrote this song in February of 2012 according to the Lover Journals

[Verse One] I was reminiscing just the other day While having coffee all alone and Lord it took me away Back to a first glance feeling on New York time Back when you fit in my poems like a perfect rhyme

So it's said that Taylor and Joe were together from June 2008 - October 2008. It is said that they first ever met in New York City back in the summer of 2008. So here she is saying that their first glace was on NY time meaning two things; one that they were literally in New York the first time they locked eyes, and two "New York Time" means fast. It means rushed, just like New York. So shes saying it didn't last long. Took of faster than a green light, go Yeah, you skip the conversation when you already know I left a note on the door with a joke we made And that was the first day This part of the song she is letting us know that the relationship started just as quickly as it ended.

[Chorus] And darling, it was good Never looking down And right there where we stood Was Holy Ground I love that here she is just reminiscing on how good they were in that moment. She's looking at it for what it was, not what it became.

[Verse Two] Spinning like a girl in a brand new dress We had this big, wide city all to ourselves We block the noise with the sound of "I need you" And for the first time I had something to lose So here we know that she is happy. She feels joy, I mean she's spinning around in a brand new dress - not just an old one she found in the back of her closet. A brand new dress - she feels like a million bucks. But, that also means that she had something to lose. When you care about someone that much and love them, it's hard when you lose them. And she was aware that she could lose him, and it scared her. I guess we feel apart in the usual way And the story's got dust on every page But sometimes I wonder how you think about it now And I see your face in every crowd This part is soooooo good. So she's saying they broke up. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary. They fell apart like relationships do - the usual way. Someone probably lost interest, or got bored, or found someone new. The story has dust on every page because at this point when this album came out (for the first time) it had been 4 years since her and Joe dated and broke up. So the story is old, but she still wonders about it. And she wants to know if he does too.

[Chorus] 'Cause darling, it was good Never looking down And right there where we stood Was Holy Ground

[Bridge] Tonight I'm gonna dance For all that we've been through But I don't wanna dance If I'm not dancing with you Tonight I'm gonna dance Like you were in this room But I don't wanna dance If I'm not dancing with you

[Chorus] It was good Never looking down Right there where we stood What Holy Ground

[Outro] Tonight I'm gonna dance For all that we've been through But I don't wanna dance If I'm not dancing with you Tonight I'm gonna dance Like you were in this room But I don't wanna dance If I'm not dancing with you

[dankusner]

Painter Rocco Ritchie, Son of Madonna, Takes a Bow with Miami Pop-Up

Madonna is dominating the Miami headlines this week, with a run of blockbuster concerts.

(After the first two sold out, a third was added for tonight.)

However, the renowned icon’s first son, Rocco Ritchie, is also making waves in the Magic City right now.

That’s because Ritchie, a talented painter, is prepping a two-day pop-up exhibition.

Titled “Pack a Punch,” it will features new paintings and be on view Wednesday and Thursday, April 10 and 11, at 30 NE 40 Street in Miami’s Design District.

(Its organizer, dealer Jessica Draper, said walk-ins are welcome on Thursday; otherwise, viewings are only by appointment.)

Born in Los Angeles in 2000, Ritchie studied at Central Saint Martins and the Royal Drawing School in London, where he currently lives and works.

In his new works, Ritchie, who cites Lucian Freud and Francis Bacon as major sources of inspiration, is continuing his exploration of the human figure.

This presentation follows “Lovers and Enemies,” a solo show of Ritchie’s work in London last fall, where he showed portraits of his friends and family.

That one was curated by David Dawson, formerly Freud’s studio manager.

Ritchie’s parents (his father is film director Guy Ritchie) have been enthusiastic supporters of his painting practice, and his work is in the collections of fashion designers Stella McCartney and Donatella Versace and dealer Lorcan O’Neill, among others.

Artnet caught up with Ritchie on the eve of his opening to ask about his training, his inspirations, and his early years operating under a pseudonym.

When and why did you first pick up a paintbrush?

I’ve been painting since I was a small kid. It is something that always caught my attention and gave me a place to escape.

Did you have formal training?

I went to Central Saint Martins, but I developed my draftsmanship at the Royal Drawing School in London. I studied there for a few years.

Your paintings are figurative, bold, and almost expressionist, with an intriguing palette. Who are some of your biggest influences?

My influences have changed over the course of time, and what is happening in my life informs which artists I am looking at.

Recently I’ve been focusing on British painters over the past 100 years or so, such as Bacon, Freud, Auerbach, and David Hockney.

For this show, I was particularly inspired by Frank Auerbach’s show at the Courtauld; the black and white charcoal works on paper.

Can you tell us about the pseudonym, “Rhed,” that you went by initially?

Rhed was something I came up with to go under the radar in the first few years of making work.

It doesn’t hold much deep meaning behind it, I just liked the way it sounded.

I tried to go along with it for as long as I could, but word eventually got out.

Were you wanting to stay anonymous and/or were you unhappy about being identified?

I’m proud of who I am and where I’ve come from, but I know people would have judged me aggressively in my early stages if I came out with my name.

I wanted to develop technically before showing under my name.

Do you work with a particular gallery or someone who handles the sales of your work?

As of now I am working with [art dealer] Jessica Draper. I’ve worked with galleries in the past, I’m just waiting to find the right one.

Who are some of your favorite artists whether historical or contemporary?

My favorite artists vary from Leonardo da Vinci, to Rembrandt, to Paula Rego.

Contemporary wise, I really like the work of Joseph Yaeger and Lens Geerk.

“Rocco Ritchie: Pack a Punch” is on view at 30 NE 40 Street in Miami on Wednesday and Thursday.