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mysterious-moonstruck-musings · 8 months

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Destiny & Deliverance: Chapter 19

Destiny & Deliverance Masterlist ||| Dieter Bravo X OFC Smut & Language - Minors DNI New as of 8/31/2023

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Series Rating: Explicit (18+)

Series Summary: Natalia Cohen is experiencing major life changes, beginning with leaving an emotionally abusive husband. She is learning how to navigate life on her own while dealing with high functioning anxiety, depression, and mild PTSD. Everything is looking up for her. She is a highly respected consultant for a major LA firm, has her best friend, Lauren, by her side, and is on her path to healing. Everything changes when she meets a handsome and broken stranger on a work trip. He turns out to be a well-known actor, with a heart-breaking past. They quickly develop a connection that will forever alter their lives.

Warnings: Themes dealing with mental health, emotional trauma, alcohol use, and discussions about suicide. There will be fluff, tears, spicy language, and smut. This will be a slow burn type of story. Read at your own risk.

Chapter Quote: "Did we really just fuck in the hallway?"

Dieter and I were a little late getting out of bed that morning. After our post-sleep declarations, we indulged in our physical intimacy for a while longer, which led to a cold breakfast. Not that either of us minded. Given that we still couldn’t keep our hands off each other, it seemed that neither of us were satiated after the morning exploits. I probably could have skipped breakfast all together if it meant spending more time wrapped up in his naked embrace.

Once we finished with breakfast, we got ready and spent the afternoon at a nearby winery which used the final product from the vineyard to make their wine. I learned more than I ever needed to know about wine making. I also tasted a lot more than I should have. As the visit went on, I found myself more focused on watching the way Dieter’s mouth moved when he spoke than listening to what he was saying. I was pretty buzzed by the time we left and only had one thing on my mind. I just wanted to get back to the house and have my way with him. Based on his darkened eyes and firm touches, he seemed to reciprocate that feeling.

After we got back to the house, we couldn’t even behave ourselves long enough to make it to the bedroom. I pinned him against the wall in the upstairs hallway, kissing him urgently, while pulling at his belt buckle. The alcohol was clearly affecting my decision-making skills. He didn’t seem to mind as he backed me up against the wall on the opposite side of the hallway, lifting the long skirt I had worn for our outing. He was pleasantly surprised to find I had nothing underneath. I gave him a wry smile as he looked at me with wide eyes.

“Have you been like this all day?” he asked, somewhat breathlessly.

“I’m starting to find undergarments to be a hindrance when certain situations arise. The less I have in the way of fucking you the better.”

He let out a low groan before he started kissing me again. I finally freed him from his briefs as he lifted one of my legs to hook around his waist. He rubbed his tip at my entrance, finding that I was ready for him. He wasted no time sinking into me, continuing with hard thrusts. We buried our faces in each other’s necks, trying to stifle the sounds that escaped. I knotted one of my hands in the front of his shirt, while the other pulled at his hair. He used one arm to brace himself against the wall to support both of us, while his other hand held my leg in place around his waist. The angle of his movements provided the most electrifying friction against my center, eliciting an intense release that radiated out to all parts of my body causing my head to fall back against the wall. I bit my lower lip, trying to hold back the sounds escaping from my mouth. He spilled into me moments later as he let out a strangled moan into my neck.

We sat unmoving for some time, both of us panting heavily and covered in a light sheen of sweat. He dropped my leg and moved to kiss me. His hand grabbed at my hip tightly as our tongues danced with one another. He finally pulled away, resting his forehead against mine. He let out a small laugh against my lips.

“Did we really just fuck in the hallway?” I let out a chuckle in response.

“We did, and I would do it again with no reservations.”

He responded by giving me one last kiss before turning to button his pants. We finally made it to our room where we spent several minutes cleaning ourselves up. We were both flushed and had freshly fucked hair. We couldn’t look at each other without breaking into smiles. I was honestly shocked at how my body was responding to him. I had never felt this turned on by someone before. The more I indulged in him, the worse it got. I guessed it was payback for avoiding it for so long. It was coming back to bite me with gusto.

Once we were both presentable, we headed toward the patio for dinner. Lucia was just finishing setting everything up as we walked out. She spent a few minutes chatting with us about our day. She had a genuine smile on her face the entire time and seemed happy to have Dieter there. He was clearly in a happier mood than he had been upon our arrival, and it was infectious.

Lucia eventually left us alone to eat. We were surprisingly quiet during our meal. Mostly just enjoying being in each other’s company. Afterwards, we walked over to a grassy area that was a short distance away from the house. Dieter was surprised when I laid down on the grass to look at the stars.

“What are you doing?” he asked with a laugh.

“Looking at the sky. You don’t get to see it like this in the city.”

He agreed as he laid down beside me. We were silent for a few minutes before I spoke up again.

“Can I ask you some questions? You don’t have to answer if it’s too much.”

I felt his hand move to search out mine. My hand met with his and entwined our fingers together. He inhaled deeply before agreeing.

“The woman in the pictures, is that your mom?”

I could hear the smile in his voice, “Yeah, that’s her. I can’t believe that’s one of the first things you went for when you walked into the house. Why did that get your attention?”

I felt a small wave of emotion wash over me as I continued to look at the sky, realizing what it was that drew me in.

“Her eyes. They had the same look you have sometimes.”

I felt his hand tighten in mine. I didn’t elaborate on what I meant by that, but I think he knew. I wasn’t sure why, but it gave me an uneasy feeling.

“Did you really bring me white roses the first time you came over because they’re a personal favorite or did it mean something to you?”

He snorted and laughed as he rolled over onto his side to prop himself up on an elbow to look down at me. He slid his hand across my waist before asking, “What do you think?”

I could faintly make out a hint of his flirty grin in the moonlight.

“Sneaky, sneaky. I think Lauren was on to you.”

“She definitely was. She’s already asked me about it, actually.”

“And you said?” He laughed.

“She took my non-response as a response and let it go. You know how she is.”

I laughed, “I do know. It’s impossible to keep anything from her.”

He continued to smile as he pulled my hand up to his lips and kissed it gently. He held it there as he stared out into the darkness.

“Lucia seems to really care about you. Is she family?” He knitted his brows together before responding.

“She was my mom’s best friend. I stayed with her after…everything happened. I was with her for a long time because I didn’t want to be here. She didn’t live on the property then. Her and Mateo moved here after my dad passed to help run the place. Mateo had been working with my dad since the beginning, so he knew everything that needed to be done. I’ve never really had it in me to be involved with the day-to-day things.”

He laid down on his arm facing me. Still holding my hand in his, near his chest.

“Have you been to your mom’s grave at all?”

He seemed to stare off at nothing as he answered.

“The only time I’ve been is when we buried my father… and even then…I pretended she wasn’t there. I haven’t been able to do it.”

“If you wanna go before we leave, I’ll go with you.”

He didn’t answer, his thoughts had briefly led him somewhere else as he continued to stare without blinking.

I turned on my side to face him, reaching with my other hand to rub at the side of his jaw. His eyes finally met mine.

“Thank you for being here for me,” he said quietly as tears pooled in his eyes. My eyes immediately filled up too. I pulled him toward me for a chaste kiss. I leaned my forehead against his.

“You don’t have to thank me for that. I would do anything for you. I love you.”

The tears finally slipped down his cheeks as we both realized it was the first time I had said those exact words aloud to him. He kissed me again as both of us smiled against each other's lips.

We were soon met with the sounds of dishes clinking as Lucia and Jose cleaned up on the patio. We took that as our cue to make our way back to the house. We wished them both goodnight before heading up to bed.

Early the next morning, I woke to Dieter getting out of bed. He leaned down and kissed me before saying he would be back and to go back to sleep. I had just managed to doze off when the flash of light and a door closing pulled me out of sleep. I sat up, looking around the room. Dieter was gone.

I pulled the sheet around my naked body as I got out of bed. I walked over to the terrace doors and pulled the curtains back far enough to peek out. I could faintly make out Dieter’s form as he walked toward the wooded area, with freshly cut white roses in his hand. A sad smile formed on my face as I realized where he was going. I was proud of him and hoped he got what he needed out of the visit with his mother’s grave. I moved to lay down in the bed and instantly fell back to sleep.

Sometime later, the room filled with light as Dieter opened the curtains. I felt him sit on the edge of the bed beside me. He gently pushed my hair back to wake me up. My eyes fluttered open to meet his gaze. I reached up to touch his face. His hand met mine as he held it against his cheek.

“You doing ok?” I asked him softly. He bit his bottom lip as he shook his head up and down. He seemed different, lighter maybe. I smiled up at him.

“You ready to head back home?” he asked as he turned to kiss the palm of my hand.

“Not particularly, but I guess we need to.”

I drug myself out of bed and got dressed in some comfortable clothes for the long drive. We quickly packed up, then went out onto the terrace to have breakfast. As soon as we were finished, we started to load up the car. Lucia, Mateo, and Jose came out to see us off. Lucia gave Dieter a somewhat emotional goodbye. As she was hugging me, she asked that I make sure he comes back to see her soon.

Dieter seemed more relaxed and carefree on our drive back home. He happily chatted the entire way and sang along to random songs as he drove. He was clearly feeling much better after the trip. I silently hoped he would stay this way as I watched him from the passenger seat.

When we got closer to civilization, both of our phones began to go crazy as all the missed call alerts and text messages started to come in. His alerts were beyond ridiculous. He ended up turning the sound off as he quietly cursed at it. Most of my messages were work related. I quickly sent a few responses to let them know I would handle things when I got back in the office. They all knew I was unavailable, yet here we were. They were a needy bunch.

We spent that evening relaxing after the long drive. The following day was spent unpacking and catching up on everything we had missed. We had to prepare ourselves to enter back into the real world. I needed to go into the office for several meetings the following day and Dieter had several meetings he had to attend in order to prepare for his upcoming travel and filming. Neither of us were looking forward to it.

When Wednesday finally rolled around, I was struggling to get back into my morning routine. It didn’t help that Dieter was there and decided to join me in the shower, further slowing the process down.

Late Tuesday night, I had found out that we were getting a surprise visit from one of our important clients, so I was a little flustered and felt unprepared. I probably should have gotten my clothes ready the night before because everything was wrinkled. I finally settled on a black tailored three-piece suit. The pants had a straight leg fit and stopped at my ankles. The matching top was more like a bustier. It was on the sexy side, but I said ‘fuck it’ and went with it anyway. I figured I would be fine if I kept the blazer buttoned up. I added some black heels to complete the look.

As I was quickly putting my hair up into a loose updo, Dieter came into the bathroom. He was momentarily distracted by the bustier top I had on without the blazer.

“Damn, can I come to work with you?” he said as he slid his hands around the sliver of bare skin at my waist and kissed up the back of my neck.

“You’re going to make me late if you keep it up,” I replied as I stuck the final pin in my hair to hold it in place.

He huffed, “Who needs work anyway?”

I narrowed my eyes on him in the mirror. He laughed as he grabbed his toothbrush and wandered off into the bedroom. I shrugged my blazer on then rushed around to gather up my laptop and everything else I needed for the day. I stood at the kitchen table digging through my bag, feeling like I was forgetting something. Dieter walked over and handed me coffee in a travel mug and the charging cord for my laptop. I laughed before pulling him in for a lingering kiss. We both inhaled deeply as I pulled away.

“You want me to drop you off at work? I’m heading in that direction. It’ll save you from looking for a parking spot.”

“You picking me up too?”

“No, I’m gonna leave your ass there,” he shot back with a sarcastic tone.

I tilted my head to the side and gave him an annoyed look as he started laughing.

“Alright, you ass, let’s go.” I gave him a playful slap on the chest as I turned to grab my bag off the table.

Dieter got me to the office in record time. He pulled up out front of the building and gave me a quick kiss before I exited the vehicle. He handed me my forgotten coffee mug just as I was about to shut the door. I was a flustered mess as I walked in the front entrance to Kerrie, Aubrey, and Elizabeth staring at me.

“Do you have a chauffeur now?” Kerrie asked with a smirk.

“What? No. I was running late and…never mind. It doesn’t matter.”

“Was that your friend from New York?” Aubrey asked with a smile forming on her face.

“Yes. It was.” My response was clipped as I eyed the three of them. Realizing where this was going.

“So, what did you do while you were off?” Elizabeth asked a little too nonchalantly.

“No. I’m not doing this. Don’t we have clients coming soon?” They all three continued to stare at me, with sly grins on their faces.

“Stop it. I’m not telling you anything.” I gave them a serious look and squared my shoulders. I walked toward my office without another word. I heard the three of them start laughing as Kerrie yelled, “We’ll get it out of you eventually!”

My morning continued to frustrate me. My neediest employee, Steve, appeared in my office thirty minutes before our clients were scheduled to arrive. He was having one issue after another. The guy was wearing me out. I couldn’t figure if trouble sought him out or if it was from his own making. I got him squared away just as I saw Kerrie leading our clients toward the conference room. I wasn’t sure if I was mentally prepared to deal with them. I knew what they were about to try to do, because it wasn’t the first time they had done this.

Aubrey and I met just outside my office door. She told me to take the lead on it. She personally knew one of the clients and did not want to be the bad guy if she didn’t have to be. Figures.

After forty-five minutes of contract negotiation discussions, I was ready to snap. They were not letting it go. I sat unblinking with an emotionless expression on my face as I listened to Mr. Brad Northrup lecture me about our prices. I finally sighed loudly, which got his attention, causing him to stop mid-sentence.

“Is there a problem, Natalia?” Brad said with an irritated tone.

Aubrey knew what was coming. I could see her grimace before I opened my mouth.

“Actually, yes, there is. This is the third time we’ve had this conversation. I let it slide the first two times and gave in because of your friendship with Aubrey, but I’m not doing it again. Clearly, you’re having some financial issues, or else you wouldn’t keep asking for this. We have costs that we have to cover too, which you don’t know the first thing about. So, lecturing me about how much we charge is not going to get the response that you want from me, Brad.”

The atmosphere in the room shifted. His team was no longer throwing figures and justifications at us. They sat in silence with wide eyes.

“Look, I’ll give you two options. We can look at cutting costs which would include cutting some of the services that we currently offer to you. You’re not keeping the contract you currently have at a cheaper price. Or we can cancel your contract and you’re more than welcome to find a new firm to work with that meets your price point.”

I sat back in my seat and tossed my pen on the table. I was done. Brad looked at Aubrey, “You’re really going to let that stand?”

“She's the lead on the account. I support whatever decision she comes to.”

Brad looked like he was about to blow a gasket as he gathered his things to leave. He said they would talk to their partners and get back to us. I watched his team file out the door, noticing Dieter standing in the reception area with Kerrie. They both had amused expressions on their faces. The door was open, so I’m sure they heard my outburst.

I walked out to meet him and asked why he was here so early.

“Well, I was bored so I figured I’d come watch you hand that guy his own ass on a platter,” he said with a chuckle. He put one hand on my hip and leaned in to kiss me on the cheek. His actions immediately got the attention of everyone in the office.

“Oh, you heard that, huh?” I said through a laugh.

“I did, and you know I loved every minute of it.”

He gave me a flirty look and I returned it with a smirk before biting my bottom lip. I was well aware of how much he liked it when I “laid the law down”. I was also suddenly very aware of all the eyes on us. My coworkers were so fucking nosey.

I cleared my throat, “Seriously, what’s up. Everything ok?”

“Yeah, I realized you didn’t bring lunch with you this morning and you don’t have your car. So, I brought you food.”

He held up the small bag in his other hand that I hadn't noticed.

“Oh, I hadn’t even thought about lunch. Thank you.”

I suddenly felt very self-conscious.

“Let’s go eat in my office. Alone.” I emphasized the last word as I looked around so that the onlookers could hear it. They all diverted their eyes and pretended they weren’t listening.

I closed the door behind us while he went to sit at the small table at the far end of my office. We spent a few minutes talking about our day. He seemed to be in good spirits and excited about filming, which was surprising. After a few minutes of silence, he changed the subject.

“Do we have any plans tonight?”

“Not that I’m aware of, why?”

“Well, a good portion of the missed calls and messages that I had were from Anna. I forgot, today is her birthday. Everyone’s getting together at some fancy restaurant to celebrate. She wants us to come.”

“Oh. What time?”

“Pretty much right after you get off work.”

“If you want to go, I’ll go.”

“You’re sure? I know you’ve had a long day.”

“Yeah, let’s do it.”

Honestly, I wasn’t excited about it at all. I knew he wanted to try and keep his friendship with her. So, I was going to roll with it and try to have a good time.

After we finished eating, I gathered our trash and walked over next to my desk to throw it away. When I turned, Dieter was there. I leaned against the edge of my desk as he unbuttoned my blazer. He moved in closer, straddling my legs and running his hands around my waist under my blazer to pull me in for a kiss. His hands were rubbing small circles on the bare skin of my lower back as I felt his tongue slip into my mouth. I knotted my hands into the front of his shirt and deepened the kiss. I could feel him getting hard against me. I had just pulled away when Kerrie came through the door. She froze, unsure of how to respond to what she had walked in on. I had a smirk on my face as I raised my eyebrows at her. Neither Dieter nor I had moved from our embrace. I imagined he probably wasn’t in any state to turn around at the moment.

“Umm, your ugh, one o’clock is here.” Kerrie said, struggling to hide the smile she was fighting.

“I’ll be out in a minute.”

She nodded as she turned and shut the door behind her. I looked at Dieter, who had an embarrassed smile on his face.

“I’m gonna hear about that later.”

“Yep. My fault, sorry.”

I walked him out to the lobby. He gave Aubrey and Kerrie a tight smile and small wave, with a slightly red face on his way out. They both gave me toothy grins after he was out the door. I responded with the middle finger as I walked around the corner to the waiting area to greet my next set of clients.

The afternoon passed quickly. I spent part of it dodging questions and insinuations every time I was around Kerrie or Aubrey. They were relentless, but it was all in good fun. Before I knew it, it was time for Dieter to pick me up. I had him pull up out front to get me so he could avoid any further interactions with nosey coworkers.

When we got to the restaurant, it was clear paparazzi were out everywhere. It was one of those places you went to be seen.

“Sorry, I’ve never been to this place. I didn’t know they would be here.”

I inhaled deeply. Shaking my head as I tried to keep calm.

“No biggie, it was bound to happen eventually. Right?” I gave him a worried look.

“We can walk in separately if you want? They won’t bother if I’m not with you.”

“No, it’s fine. Really. Maybe just no hand holding or anything. Don’t want to create a frenzy.”

He agreed, as he turned to pull up front to the valet parking area. As soon as he exited the vehicle, they were on him. I managed to get out and walk ahead without them noticing. They were too focused on shouting questions at Dieter. I waited for him on the steps. He eventually made his way over to me. He put his hand on my lower back as we started to walk through the door, which led to a flurry of flashes.

“Geez, that’s insanity,” I said with an exasperated laugh once we were just inside the door.

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing, It’s fine. I know what I’m getting into.”

I grabbed his hand as we made our way through the restaurant to find Anna’s table. It was one of those trendy type restaurants with dim lighting and high-end furnishings. I couldn’t say I was surprised she would want to come to a place like this.

We found her table in one of the back corners. There had to be at least fifteen people there already and she was seated in the middle of them. She called over to say she had saved us seats, right in front of her. Dieter greeted everyone and introduced me to anyone I hadn’t met yet. As I sat in the chair, I could feel Anna’s eyes looking me over.

“Geez Talia, I didn’t realize I was attending a board meeting.”

It took Dieter and I both a minute to register what she meant. She was referring to the suit that I was wearing. Dieter narrowed his eyes as he opened his mouth to speak. I grabbed his hand to stop him, before reaching to unbutton and remove my blazer. He glanced over and instantly knew what was coming based on my overly calm demeanor. He had a smirk on his face before a word left my mouth.

“I’m sorry Anna, but homeless bag-lady chic isn’t really appropriate for a professional office setting. Seeing as I came directly here from work, I guess you’ll just have to deal with my business attire. I’m sorry it doesn’t meet your dress code.”

Anna briefly sat with her mouth agape before her eyes dropped down to the bustier, I had just uncovered. Her eyes widened with shock at my response.

I gave her a sarcastic smile as Dieter burst out laughing. He didn’t even try to hold it back like the others sitting around us did. It was a great start to our evening. Anna finally recovered and laughed it off, but she was clearly seething over it. She wasn’t used to someone biting back at her snide remarks.

The waiter came over soon after that to get our food and drink orders, which helped diffuse the tension. Anna avoided talking to us for some time. We were nearly done with our appetizer when she finally turned her attention back to Dieter.

“I literally tried for days to get hold of you about tonight. Where were you that didn’t have a cell signal?”

He had a guarded look on his face as he took a long drink of water from his glass. As he set it down, he put his free arm around my shoulders and pulled me in closer to his side. I could feel him tense before he spoke.

“Talia and I went to Sonoma for a few days.”

She gave a sarcastic laugh as she drew her brows down together in confusion.

“Like, to your parents' place?”

He exhaled before narrowing his eyes at her, “Yeah, like to my parent’s place.”

She laughed harder as she looked over at me.

“Did he tell you his big secret, Talia?” Her voice was dripping with sarcasm.

“I told her everything,” Dieter replied, giving her a pointed look. He continued to calmly sip at his drink while we watched her anger bubble to the surface.

“So, you trust HER with that information over your best friend?”

Dieter smiled as he set his glass down. He squeezed his hand into a fist as it rested on the table, then started repeatedly rubbing his fingertips down his palm. I could feel his leg bouncing beside mine under the table. I reached down and put my hand on his thigh to calm him.

“Yes, I trust her with everything.”

“So, what, are you two like together now? Is that it? You think she’s gonna save you from yourself?”

Dieter’s eyes blackened as his face tensed. I sat up straighter in my seat causing Dieter to tighten his hold on my shoulder. He thought I was about to snap on her.

“Honestly Anna, it’s none of your business what I think at this point. I’m finally happy. You should just accept that.”

“You really think this is gonna work out between you two? She’s not like us. She’s gonna get sick of your moody shit once she gets to know the real you. You know that right?”

Dieter leaned forward, loudly slamming his fist down on the table. All eyes were on us now. A smile slid across Anna’s face as she casually leaned back in her seat. She stared at Dieter, unblinking.

“There’s my angry boy,” she purred.

Her eyes shifted to look at me, “See Talia, he has a bit of a temper. You think you can handle that?”

“Fuck you, Anna. You don’t know me anymore,” Dieter shot back at her, rather loudly as he stood up. The sound of his chair scratching across the floor echoed in the now silent room.

I stood up beside him and tightly grabbed onto his arm.

“Let’s go,” I said as I pushed him away from the table. He jerked his arm away from me, then leaned down over the table toward Anna.

“I’m done with this,” he said as he pointed his finger between them. “I’m done with all of this,” he added, motioning to everyone else at the table.

I chanced a glance around the room. People were starting to pull out their phones. I let out a quiet “fuck” as I roughly reached for his arm again and made him look at me.

“Let’s go home. Now,” I said sternly.

He slowly shook his head up and down as we stared at each other, wide eyed. He turned to walk away, kicking the chair out of his way as he went.

I turned back to Anna, who was still smiling like the Cheshire cat while she watched him walk away. She glanced over at me, and her smile faded. I was beyond livid, so I knew she was getting a full dose of the “fucking scary” version of me in that moment.

“You’re a selfish and pathetic bitch. You know that? Eventually, you’re gonna end up alone. You deserve to end up alone.”

I could tell those words struck a nerve by the way she flinched away from them. I grabbed our things and turned to leave without another word. I walked over to where Dieter was waiting in the alcove near the bathrooms.

He was leaning back against the wall with his hands rubbing at his face when I approached him. I grabbed his hands to pull them away, dropping them at his sides. His eyes were still black as they darted around looking at everything and nothing. He started clenching and unclenching his right hand. Occasionally stopping to run his thumb over his fingertips. He seemed like he was trying to control his breathing.

“Can you talk to me, please?”

He was slowly shaking his head from side to side as he closed his eyes. I was having a hard time getting him to focus. I had never seen him like this before and wasn’t sure what to do. I reached up and grabbed the hair at the nape of his neck, somewhat tightly, forcing him to stop moving his head. His eyes popped open widely as he finally looked at me.

“Don’t let her get to you. She’s not worth it.”

I leaned my forehead against his as I felt his hands settle on my hips.

“I can’t believe she said that to you. I’m sorry you had to hear that.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. I don’t give a damn about anything she has to say. She’s just trying to pull you back into her mess.”

He pulled me in for a tight hug, burying his face into my neck. He took several deep breaths before he pulled away. He rested one of his hands on the back of my neck as he stared at me. His eyes looked better now. They were back to their normal chocolate brown color.

“How about you take me home and get me out of this damn bustier?”

That had the intended effect. He gave me a small smile and chuckled before pulling me in for a chaste kiss. We were both smiling as we turned to walk toward the exit. I took a brief glance in Anna’s direction. She had been watching us from the table. It gave me some pleasure knowing she had seen that whole exchange between Dieter and me. He was now smiling and that wasn’t the outcome she wanted.

When we exited the restaurant, we were met with a flurry of flashes and shouted questions. We kept our distance as we walked toward the waiting car and got in. Dieter drove around for a little while and took the long way back to my house to make sure no one followed us. Luckily that didn’t seem to be the case.

By the time we got home, he and I were both exhausted by the day's events. We peeled the clothes off each other and crawled into bed, wrapping up in each other's embrace under the blankets. We briefly spent some time exploring each other's bodies in silence. Happy to be in each other’s presence and feel the warmth and electricity that resulted from our loving caresses. I snuggled into his chest as he ran his fingers through my loose curls. His soft touches caused me to drift off to sleep.

At some point in the middle of the night, I felt Dieter get up out of bed. I turned toward his dark figure as he was putting on a pair of shorts.

“Is something wrong?”

“No mi estrella, I just can’t fall asleep. I’m gonna go in here so I don’t keep you awake. I’ll be back once my mind slows down.”

“Are you having the dreams again?”

“No, it’s not that. I’m just wide awake.”

He leaned down and kissed me on the forehead before leaving the room. I looked up at the clock. It was 4am. This was different, but he had said that he sometimes has episodes of insomnia. I wasn’t sure if it was cause for concern or not. Especially after the exchange he and Anna had earlier. Hopefully he wasn’t bothered by what she had said, because she didn’t know what she was talking about.

I finally fell back to sleep at some point. I was awakened by my alarm a few hours later. Dieter still wasn’t in bed, but I could smell the coffee brewing in the kitchen. I had a staff meeting and a few conference calls that I needed to go into the office to deal with, so I got up to get ready. I kept things more casual today, opting for dark wash skinny jeans, a light purple silky top, and a blazer. It was definitely a flats day too. My feet were killing me after wearing heels the day before. I left my hair down with loose curls and went light on the makeup.

Once I was ready, I walked toward the kitchen in search of Dieter. He had made breakfast and was just finishing up making me a plate as I walked around the corner. He seemed very wired for someone who didn’t get much sleep.

“Wow. I wasn’t expecting to wake up to this.” I gave him a surprised laugh.

“Well, I had to do something to occupy my time. I got tired of looking over scripts.”

He shrugged as he handed me a plate of food. I gave him a concerned look.

“Are you sure you’re ok? Last night was kind of a lot.”

“Yeah, that isn’t even on my mind. I’m over it. I just got to thinking about work and couldn’t fall asleep. I always do this before filming starts. I start obsessing and over preparing. I’m fine. I promise.”

He leaned in and gave me a quick kiss before shooing me toward the table to eat.

“Do you have anything going on today?” I asked him in between bites.

“I have a few calls, that’s about it.”

“I’ll probably be back around lunch time. We have a staff meeting and I have a few calls, then I’ll leave. I’ll work from home the rest of the afternoon.”

He bobbed his head up and down, “Cool, I’ll go grab us some lunch then.”

I gave him a smile, then quickly finished up so I could get going. As I was heading out the door, his phone started to go crazy with text messages, then rang. He rolled his eyes and gave me a quick kiss before going to answer it.

When I walked into the back employee entrance at the office, I could feel eyes on me. I sighed as I neared the reception area to see Aubrey and Kerrie both looking at their phones. They looked up at me with surprised expressions on their faces.

I paused, giving them a confused look.

“What?”

Their eyes shifted to each other, then back to me.

“What? Is something wrong?”

Aubrey was hesitant, but finally spoke up, “Have you not seen the gossip columns today?”

I suddenly had a sinking feeling in my stomach. I inhaled deeply and closed my eyes as I slowly exhaled. “Fuck. What is it? Let me see.”

Aubrey handed me her phone. TMZ had posted a ridiculously long article about forty-five minutes ago. It was about last night. There were pictures and video of Dieter and I leaving the restaurant. There were also grainy videos of our confrontation with Anna and of me trying to calm him down. The voices on the audio were too low to make out anything that had been said. The article made every effort to sensationalize the whole evening with little facts about what happened. They also referred to me as an unidentified female friend. Luckily my face was either covered with my hand or not very clear in all the images and video. I rolled my eyes and handed Aubrey her phone.

“Care to share what that’s all about?” Aubrey asked.

“Yes, I do care. It’s not as bad as they’re making it out to be. It’s not a big deal.”

Kerrie gave me a sympathetic look as she spoke, “I’m sure the picture he posted on Instagram early this morning isn’t going to help the situation.”

“The what?” I didn’t know what she was talking about. Her eyes widened.

“You didn’t know about that?”

I shook my head as I pulled out my phone to look. Sure enough, he had posted a picture of us earlier this morning. I didn’t even know he had taken it. It was a picture of us laying down, his face pressed against my forehead with his fingers in my hair as I lay sleeping. It was cropped in a way that you couldn’t fully see my face. It was blurred slightly with a black and white filter and had text across the middle that said, “Just us.”

It already had so many likes and comments. I couldn’t bring myself to look at the comments. I raised my head to look at Aubrey and Kerrie. I could feel the panic rising in my chest.

“Well, I guess the cat is officially out of the bag.”

A/N: So, did anyone call it that both Dieter and Talia were going to let Anna have it? That was kind of satisfying, right? Look at Lauren picking up on things and not saying anything to Talia about it. Makes you wonder what else her and Dieter talk about when Talia isn't around...

How do you guys feel about the Instagram post? Good move? Bad move? How do we feel about Dieter's behavior? Do you feel like it's pretty on par with how he has been since the beginning?

The chapter song is below and just in case you missed the teaser, the Chapter 19 mood board is too.

Next Chapeter

Tag List: @rhoorl @bitchwitch1981 @readingiskeepingmegoing @runningmom94 @for-a-longlongtime @hisandsnakes @chaoticfestninja @survivingandenduring @partyofone3413 @cakipy-blog @pedrostories @titlee78 @poodlebae

Let me know in the comments below if you would like to be added to the tag list.

#dieter bravo #pedro pascal #dieter x ofc #dieter bravo fic #Destiny & Deliverance Series #pedro pascal characters #dieter bravo x ofc #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #Pedro Pascal Fanfic #dieter bravo x oc #dieter bravo fluff #dieter bravo fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #the bubble #Spotify

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mythserene · 4 months

Text

DRUGS COST MONEY (MARK LEWISOHN, DRUG BUDDY)

I'm late, but I'm here, and this is something I've thought about since I read Tune In the first time.

First of all, Lewisohn's definition and description of what Preludin was is wildly underplayed and misleading, so I have to just get out a few quick Preludin facts. They're helpful.

Lewisohn:

Preludin was an appetite suppressant, an anorectic drug introduced into West German society in 1954, when commercial pressures were making women become more image-conscious. Users maintained an appetite but quickly felt full when eating, and the reduced intake brought about weight loss. Preludin’s primary ingredient, phenmetrazine, was not an amphetamine but an upper, giving the user a euphoric buzz. It was soon sold internationally and used recreationally, and though available in Germany only with a doctor’s prescription...

- “Tune In” - Chapter 19; Piedels on Prellies

(Oh, those women and their obsession with weight.)

I know Lewisohn's not a chemist and I don't expect him to have done extensive study before writing “not an amphetamine but an upper”—which, first of all is just a weird, grade school sounding statement about any stimulant in general that no scientist would ever say or write—but also he makes it sound like it's a fizzy little pill that gives you the sillies.

But definitely not an amphetamine or anything bad like that.

Look, even Wikipedia says right at the top, “[i]ts structure incorporates the backbone of amphetamine,” and although I didn't spend more than a few seconds there, I saw it because it came up first in the search like Wikipedia always does. Just saying it's basically impossible to miss.

And whether he was trying to hide the ball or not, since he wrote so much about them I am going to quickly set the "not amphetamine" record straight before I go on.

“Methamphetamine hydrochloride (Desoxyn) and phenmetrazine hydrochloride (Preludin) are two variants of the amphetamine structure.”

- “Amphetamine Abuse”, Sidney Cohen, MD, JAMA

“The experience in Sweden seems to indicate that phenmetrazine (e.g. Preludin) has the highest potency, and the greatest risk of psycho-toxic, acute and chronic effects (Rylander 1966). Amphetamines and methylphenidate seem to show less dependence-producing and psycho-toxic effects than phenmetrazine.”

- (United Nations Bulletin; Vol XX, No. 2)

Basically, Preludin was synthesized by taking an amphetamine skeleton and boosting tf out of it by adding a very common sort of chemical scaffolding to it called a morpholine ring, allowing them to tweak it by sticking on a nitrogen group. But morpholine rings by themselves also increase potency and usually bioavailability.

So in the narrowest technical sense, Phenmetrazine (Preludin) is classified as a morpholine instead of an amphetamine, but in every way it is an amphetamine on speed. (And every description of it anywhere says so right up front.) It was Amphetamine Plus. The little added synthetic kicker the pharmaceutical company figured out how to attach to the amphetamine made it stronger—gave it the Preludin "kick"—made the high feel better in general (according to all this crap I spent way too much time reading) and also made it way more addictive. It increased dopamine and norepinephrine reuptake, and the compound itself displayed “some entactogen properties more similar to MDMA." It made Preludin far more psychoactive than straight amphetamines. Made smells stronger, sensations more intense, and made you horny and "increased performance." It was taken off the market in 1980 because it was so hyper-addictive and the “psycho-toxicity” was so extreme. People reported doing things they barely remembered, including to a kind of freakish degree, like a lot of users committing crimes for the very first time in their lives. And so the company tried to replace it with a similar drug called Prelu-2, which is apparently still available but also almost never prescribed because even that was excessively addictive compared to non-boosted amphetamines.

And also, it made you feel body odors?

"...perfumes and flowers get a stronger smell, and body odours are felt more strongly than under normal conditions."

- (United Nations Bulletin; Vol XX, No. 2)

What are normal conditions? Maybe my normal conditions are different from everyone else's because I don't normally feel body odors?? But tbh I would literally try this drug just to see if I could.

Okay.

So... John was feeling some serious body odors because my man took a lot of them. Usually with lots of booze.

And apparently they made him more awesome.

George spoke graphically of how they would be “frothing at the mouth … we used to be up there foaming, stomping away.” John, as always, dived straight in, wholeheartedly grabbing another new experience with an open mouth and no thought of tomorrow. The Beatles called them “pep pills”—the commonly used British term of the period—and also “Prellies.”

...Two pills a night were more than enough for most but John frequently took four or five, and in conjunction with hour after hour of booze he became wired, a high-speed gabbling blur of talent, torment and hilarity.

- “Tune In” - Chapter 19; Piedels on Prellies

Yeah, he sounds like a blast. Good thing you got a quote there, my guy. I'm sure the first description that would’ve come to his roommates’ minds would be “hilarity.” Or second, after “hero.” (Sorry, I don't want to be hard on John. I have a lot of bandwidth and patience for drug indulgences, especially in a situation like this, but Lewisohn is unbelievable.)

Ruth Lallemannd, a St. Pauli barmaid who knew the Beatles from 1960, recalls an occasion when “They crushed ten Prellies to powder, put them in a bottle of Cola and shared it between them. They were always wound up.”

Drugs cost money

Amazingly enough though, these prescription-only pills didn't just magically get from people with nice doctors to John’s hands. Someone sold them to someone else and they ended up with “the toilet lady,” Tante Rosa, who sold them.

They looked like little white sweets … but these were no mint drops.

- Chapter 19

So cute!

Preludin small-print advised against its being taken less than six hours before bedtime, in case of sleep disorders.

- Chapter 19

So if Lewisohn is reading the small print of a drug that was discontinued 44 years ago he did not miss the Wikipedia page and must know that “not an amphetamine but an upper” is wildly misleading. Technically true in the chemical classification sense, but not in the medical or pharmacological sense. And true in the same way that “fentanyl isn't morphine” is true.

But that's not my point.

My point is that these “little white sweets” were strong, had wild “psycho-toxic” effects, John took a lot of them, and they weren't free.

Because drugs cost money.

Paul slept fine on just the one pill, John and George didn’t. George would recall “lying in bed, sweating from Preludin, thinking, ‘Why aren’t I sleeping?’ ” John simply took more: “You could work almost endlessly until the pill wore off, then you’d have to have another … You’d have two hours’ sleep and wake up to take a pill and get on stage, and it would go on and on and on. When you didn’t even get a day off you’d begin to go out of your mind with tiredness.”

Or, put another way, John was “a high-speed gabbling blur of talent, torment and hilarity.” And Paul did uncool stuff like sleeping.

Also, what in the...

Tony, George, Paul, John and Pete, along with Rosi and perhaps some stray females, would stagger wearily and noisily up three long flights of wooden stairs...

“Stray females”??? Is he talking about cats? Don't call human beings “strays,” you self-important oddity.

THE GROWNUP

John was never much into paying for stuff. Like rent, for instance. But that's what friends are for.

John was blessed with a particular talent for frittering away his funds (the council grant designed to provide his working materials) and was rarely in a position to pay [rent]. As Rod remembers, “During the week I’d go and have a pint with him and he’d always have money for a beer, but when it came to the day to pay the rent he was always hard up. ‘Could I owe it to you?’ ‘Would you like this jacket?’ One time he paid me with a Mounties-type Canadian jacket he’d probably nicked from someone else.”

- “Tune In” - Chapter 13; “Hi-Yo, Hi-Yo, Silver–Away!”

He paid rent with a jacket? Landlords take those?

I'm not gonna lie, the only real issue I've ever had with Paul—the things I have the most confusion and hesitancy about—are when he seems inexplicably cheap. Like paying the Wings band so little for so long. There's only a few cases that come to mind, but they're my weak point with him.

Still, having done my share of experimenting—as well as dating a guy who became a high-functioning addict before becoming a non-functioning addict before becoming an ex who died of an overdose—I know very well how it feels to see money flow through your hands like water and into someone else's bloodstream. And what happens then is you either both starve or you are the only one eating. In the end, someone has to have money to live, and the more drugs my ex took the more I was forced into being a walking, talking, pissed off safety net.

Stu supposedly got in a fight with Paul because Stu owed Paul money. (Although that doesn't explain attacking Paul out of nowhere on stage half as well as a three-days-awake-Prellie-binge psycho-toxicity does.)

It does, however, mean that at least one guy in the band who was taking Preludin was running out of money between paychecks.

And there's no way that if Stu was running out of funds that John wasn't too. And faster. And according to Lewisohn, George was eating a lot of Preludin, too. Because he was also cool.

That leaves Paul.

John was notoriously bad with money even when he had a lot, and when everyone is living and working together it's almost impossible to be the only guy eating or the only guy smoking. But at the same time if you know you can't do anything to stop your friends from going hard and never thinking at all, it tends to make you more careful. Because you're all you've got and all they've got. You didn't ask for the job, but you drew the short straw. So you hide some cigarettes and share too many, and get increasingly sick of it and resentful, but there's no good answer.

John heaped a ton of spice into the mix by suddenly moving back into Mendips. He’s unlikely to have told Mimi of the Gambier Terrace eviction, but Rod Murray knew little of this hasty departure: John left most of his possessions in the flat and several weeks’ rent unpaid—to the tune of about £15. He just scarpered.

- “Tune In” - Chapter 15; Drive and Bash

“Spice.” Dude really said “spice.” That John, so spicy. And fwiw, that's £300 today.

Maybe John had another jacket to pitch in.

Paul says he's more cautious by nature and I'm sure that's true, but also you know they all relied on him because they knew he wouldn't be as stupid as they were. Who knows what he would've done—whether he would have lived a more libertine life in Hamburg—if he'd felt like that was an option and he didn't have to be the grownup. Who knows what he would have done if anyone else gave a shit whether they ate or smoked.

I'll end by repeating the freakishly weird way Lewisohn told a John psycho-toxicity story that the AKOM ladies pointed out in Ep 8: No Greater Buddy, since it's almost impossible not to talk about John and Prellies without it.

“PAUL AND GEORGE’S HERO-WORSHIP STAYED FULLY INTACT”

George was second only to John in the swallowing of Prellies and knew better than most the sum effect of taking too many for too long, how the combination of pills plus booze plus several sleepless days caused hallucinations and extreme conduct. He’d describe one occasion when he, Paul and Pete were lying in their bunk beds, trying to sleep, only for John to barge into the room in a wild state. “One night John came in and some chick was in bed with Paul and he cut all her clothes up with a pair of scissors, and was stabbing the wardrobe. Everybody was lying in bed thinking, ‘Oh fuck, I hope he doesn’t kill me.’ [He was] a frothing mad person—he knew how to have ‘fun.’ ”

Handling John was something his friends were well used to doing. If he didn’t murder them in their beds there was no greater buddy. They might fear for their lives but they loved him still. No way would they walk out and join another group. John was just John, and Paul and George’s hero-worship stayed fully intact.

- “Tune in” - Chapter 28; You Better Move On

Mark Lewisohn knows nothing about drugs or drug culture. Which is fine. Good. Great, even. But the thing is, it doesn't stop him from knowing everything about it. He has confidently and emphatically stated that John and Yoko weren't doing heroin in the daytime during the Get Back sessions. He even claims that they weren't on heroin during the Two Junkies interview. Even repeating this paraphrase makes me feel ridiculous, but he says that was a hangover from the night before, and that they were too lucid to be high. Which, first of all, is not how heroin fucking works. They were blasted. The aftereffects would be them being antsy and jumpy, not going in extra-slow motion and puking. Blows my mind, the hubris this guy has. To confidently state something he unquestionably pulled out of his ass without even a moment's hesitation. Not only is that not how heroin works, but it is the drug that people wake up to do. Not wake up and do. Wake up to do.

And you can tell from the way he talks about John on Prellies—“a high-speed gabbling blur of talent, torment and hilarity”—that he has never experienced anyone who's been up a few days. And I still have a more daring nature than most of my friends, and am in no way shocked by the drug use. Me and my friends in Houston used to take Fastin and go midnight bowling every Saturday. The memories are good and I regret nothing. But the naive way Lewisohn romanticizes John and low key mocks Paul—as if Lewisohn was the ultimate drug buddy and Paul a total prude—is so weird. It's freakishly, embarrassingly, weird. Like he wants to be the cool guy. Like he thinks he can be the cool guy, and is being the cool guy, but to me it's painfully embarrassing and nothing else makes him look more desperate and delusional.

#beatles #akom #lewisohn #tune in #fine tuning #the beatles #john lennon #paul mccartney #historiography #Prellies #Hamburg #preludin #george harrison #Mark Lewisohn #drugs #drugs cost money #Spotify

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sounknownvoid · 2 months

Text

AHBL12

Doors open n we're all filing in just now waiting for the 1st part of the morning to kick off !!!...(winchester tkt & general )- starting to fill up!...

Im caffeinated, hydrated, have my tickets n tokens n such sorted!!.... ready n excited!!!... my very 1st con ever and it's spn and these guys ofc!!!.... 😆😆😅

Update at end of day that was intense n emotional n fun n we laughed n made new friends n had a grand old time! ... 😅😁

Headline: Jared gives the BEST HUGS!!! 😍😍🥰🥰🥰🤩🤩🤩.... he was the sweetest and super tall and paid attention to you even in that v brief 5xsec he had at photo op or 15xsec at auto...

I'm super buzzed n exhausted- they were still doing autos even at 7.30pm n a long queue to go - after a full day of meets n pics n panels n then autos n then they have singalongs scheduled still tonight (I'm safely tucked away back in my hotel room for an early flight tomorrow) and all of that - non stop since Friday!!! - It must be just exhausting for them giving out so much energy constantly all day !! ... I'm happy n buzzed but v brain-dead from a whole day of just being in the audience!! 🙃 😄😅.... kudos to these guys...

Matt Cohen was funny as & went all out for warming up the audience as the 1st panelists out with Jake Abel - they made a good entertaining duo, in other notable mentions apart from J and J... that's it folks, I'm signing off - back to my regularly scheduled program of sam-spam and analysis later in the week!! ... 😀

#supernatural #Ahbl12 con

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loz-3 · 1 year

Text

Participation Not Required

part one of two

Loki x female reader

Word Count : 1.1k

Warnings : angst

Inspired by: Leaving the Table by Leonard Cohen

It all started several years ago, when he had become an official member of the Avengers. Back then, he was much more angry and bitter towards everything and everyone. You had almost mowed him down in the library whilst carrying far too many books. These, of course, went flying but he had managed to catch you before you hit the ground. “Careful now, darling… we can’t have you ending up injured.” he had said as he helped you to your feet.

“Wouldn’t be the first time, won’t be the last!” You retorted, laughing at the look of both humour and aversion on his face “but thank you very much for the catch, I think I can manage from here!” You had collected your books and scurried away, not expecting to see him again.

But you did. Time and time again, he would be there. First with snide comments on what you were currently reading or how often your clumsiness affected the world around you, but slowly his words evolved to genuine compliments and gentle teasing words instead of the harsher ones. On a whim one afternoon you had asked him to join you for a coffee, and surprisingly he agreed. From that point on, you were friends. The two of you could talk for hours about every topic from the weather, to your pasts, to the future. Nothing was off the table and life had taken on a newer happy colour that you had not experienced before.

That's about when you realized you had fallen... hard... for him. Your relationship was steady as close friends, maybe on an eventual path to become more. It's not like you hadn't kissed him before, there were a couple late nights at the local dive bar that ended in a heavy session but it never amounted to anything. He was very hard to read in that regard... and you making the first move, that was out of the question. As comfortable as you were with him, the thought of spilling your deepest darkest secret had your stomach in knots and you could never get the words out.

Then one day, you were too late. He had been so eager to tell you about the woman he had met, Mia. She was tall, blond, wealthy... everything he wanted. She was perfect, and perfectly lovely. Even you couldn't find a fault. As they started dating and advanced their relationship, he grew more and more distant. The hangouts dropped from a couple times a week, to maybe every second weekend, to practically nothing. Every time your phone buzzed, your heart leapt in hopes it was him telling you she was gone. But that notification never came. You kept on smiling tho, especially since you would still occasionally run into them in passing. But you knew that if you kept up hoping and waiting, the depression would take control.

So you called him up to meet for coffee in the little cafe that you two had frequented. It was there that you told him you had taken a new job out of town starting soon. What you didn't tell him was that you had already closed on your apartment and would be gone by the end of the weekend. No sense in delaying the inevitable. He, of course, wanted to make sure you would be ok in a new place and had apologized for the lack of communications over the last few months. Mia was expecting his child and he had become very distracted with the good news.

Loki... it's fine..." you said, with the hint of tears in your eyes "I'm fine... I know I'm beat when it comes down to the brass tax here. I promise... I'm... content that you've found the woman that truly makes you happy and whole." A single tear trailer down your face, so you leant forward and clasped his hand in between yours. Feeling his fingers tighten around your wrist, you quickly wiped the moisture from your cheek with your free hand. “It's been so wonderful being around you for the short time we've known each other." You smiled as the lie passed your lips. Hopefully he was too love struck to notice it. He was the God of Lies and Mischief after all.

"T-thank you Y/N. It means a lot to me that you understand." Loki stammered as you stood to leave. He looked elated as he glanced to the far table where she sat, not a hint of regret in his eyes. “Please say you’ll attend the barnasturta… err, baby shower, once the little one arrives?”

An unexpected chuckle escaped you. Of course, the baby... he was most adorable when he accidentally switched languages. You had anticipated the invite, however you didn't plan on attending. It would be far too hard on your already shattered and empty heart. "I would be honoured to come, just let me know when and where and I'll be there." Another lie, another jubilant look to Mia. "I really must be going... take care Loki…” but he had already turned away, back towards her.

You quickly gathered your things and headed to the door. There was no way you were going to let the waterworks start while you were still inside the cafe. Six steps and you were outside, eight more and you had rounded the corner of the building. Finally out of sight from their cozy table, you broke into a run towards your apartment. ‘Only two blocks’ you told yourself ‘then you can cry…’

After a few short minutes, the front door of your building came into view. You suddenly stumbled, dropping hard to your knees. “Ouch…” that’ll leave a mark. Why did you choose to wear a dress today? You stood slowly, testing the function of your legs. Glancing down, you could see the droplets of blood on the sidewalk and down your shins, instantly knowing that you would be sore for days. No matter… the physical pain would be welcome after today.

Thankfully, you managed to keep your inner turmoil from the surface until you were inside your apartment. Before you could even close your door, the first sob erupted from your chest, squeezing your lungs and causing you to crumple onto the carpet. It didn’t matter how much it hurt, it didn’t matter that your whole world had just ended. What did matter, most of all, was that he was lucky enough to find his other half… his safe haven… his love, after all the years of hardship and anger. You just wished it had been with you…

Notes: this is my first attempt at an actual story posting. please send me all your criticisms and comments, nothing will offend me! i also promise this story won't end like this...

#loki #loki laufeyson #fanfic #fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki x reader #loki x y/n #loki x you #loki x f!reader #loki imagine #loki angst

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scintillyyy · 17 days

Note

Jean-Paul Valley.

Or if you don't feel like it, do Buzz Cohen.

i'll give you both :

jean-paul

my favorite wet dog 22 year old fail nerd. he was somehow so much more enjoyable the second foray into reading comics.

and buzz!

buzz, i thought about saying everyone else is wrong about him but i'm the only person who thinks about him ergo there's no one too be wrong.

#scintilly ask tag #zahri melitor

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cosmorice · 7 months

Text

Lie

Pairing: businessman!eren jaeger x reader

Genre: angst

Tw: sad, no happy ending

Wc: 1.7k

Song rec: Lie by Nessa Barrett

November 10th, 2023

The yellow-hued leaves crinkled against your thickened boots as you strolled down the bustling streets of New York. Autumn here was quite beautiful, although you did prefer springtime, where the green and full trees glistened against the sun. The cold air tickles your face before your movements come to an abrupt halt. A tall man cowers above you, emerald green eyes sparkling as he profusely apologizes. You manage to give him a small smile and wave off the accidental mishap. It was rush hour after all. People have jobs and lives. You manage to get a better glimpse of him. His broad shoulders were covered in a black business suit, complimenting the loosely done bun that his brown locks were in. He seemed to be well established. You hoped to maybe, just maybe, bump into the handsome stranger once more.

November 13th, 2023

Heading home after another boring day at the office was a pain in the ass. You were not looking forward to being on the jam-packed trains. But here you were, waiting for the next train to take you home. Oh how good that sounds right now to just be snuggled in your warm bed. After about 5 minutes of watching rats crawl through the tracks, the loud train comes to a screeching halt as you begin to board. Grabbing onto the first railing you spot overhead, you notice a familiar loose bun in your peripheral view.

“Hey, you’re the guy that bumped into me the other day.” You laugh, as he turns to face you. Those damn emerald eyes catching your gaze, as his face heats up in a light shade of crimson.

Stand clear of the closing doors please.

What were the odds that you’d see him again? Maybe god answered your prayers? Who knows. What you do wish now though, is that you never encountered him. Ever again.

December 31st, 2023

A month goes by. A month of movie dates, sleepovers, late night calls, traveling to the inner depths of the city for pizza, before he decides to make things official. It was you and Eren against the world. He began opening up about how his family resided back home in Tokyo, a family that consisted of a stay at home mom, his adopted sister Mikasa, and his now deceased father.

The past month was a whirlwind to say the least. You fell hard and fast, along with Eren. He was charming, intelligent, humorous, and everything that you envisioned in a dream man. You could say that you were in love.

The music was booming, as the clock struck 11:00PM. Your friends sky rise apartment overlooked the city, and lucky for you all, you got a pretty kickass view of Times Square. You were radiant the whole night, excitedly chattering away and introducing Eren to all of your friends at the gathering. Everyone adored him, some even compared him to your last boyfriend, Levi, who ended up cheating on you with some bimbo you can’t even remember. Of course Eren knew about this. Conversations flowed so freely between the both of you, and as you explained the hurt and pain that Levi caused, Eren made a promise that you were his & he was yours. Forever.

The countdown began as a drunk Anderson Cooper and Andy Cohen graced the gigantic television screen in the living room. Everyone who was oh so casually buzzed, joins in obnoxiously.

5…you turn and meet with those emerald eyes, those eyes that caught your attention that fateful November day

4…the butterflies begin to swirl, or maybe it’s the alcohol

3…eren’s beautiful smile entrances you as he takes a step forward

2…a loose strand of hair falls from underneath the beanie that dawns his head

1…his soft pink lips trap in between yours as the party erupts with joy

What a way to ring in the New Year.

June 7th, 2024

8 months since you met your other half, or so you thought. Everything happened so quickly, and maybe that’s why you both were reaching a slow burn now. It’s been weeks since he last grazed your skin. Weeks since you last felt his lips passionately overlapping yours. Now whenever he returns home, it’s nothing but a small exchange of,

“Not tonight love, I’m headed to bed. Work has been exhausting.”

The sudden disruption in your relationship was all too familiar. You dealt with this once before. He wouldn’t cheat right? Eren was one of the chairmen for a well-known party company, and it was summer which was the peak for their business. You sigh as you pour a glass of wine and linger around the living room for a moment, contemplating what your next move should be. Grabbing your phone, you shoot a text to Eren’s sister, who you’ve only communicated with via. FaceTime calls and texts.

Y/N: SOS

Mikasa: What’s going on? Just woke up

You forgot about the time gap that filled in between New York & Tokyo. Did you really want to bug Mikasa so early on in her day with this bullshit? Yes. Yes you did.

Y/N: Eren’s been acting off recently Mikasa: Explain further Y/N: He hasn’t really, done much with me in weeks. I’m not really a priority for him anymore. It’s strange how distant he’s become. Mikasa: Hmm…if it gives you peace of mind, maybe talk to him? Y/N: Alright, I’ll keep you updated xo

Did you truly want to talk to him? Of course, but you couldn’t shake off the gnawing feeling that was telling you to look through his phone. That was the one thing that would give you peace of mind. So that’s exactly what you decided to do. Eren’s light snores filled the shared bedroom that you once held countless passionate nights in for the past two months. Tip toeing ever so gently, you swipe his phone from the nightstand before returning to the living room.

❛The hardest pill to swallow,

Is knowing that tomorrow you’re not mine❜

Your blood runs cold as a singular tear leaves a trail of moisture and warmth down your cheek before nestling in between your quivering lips. There was another woman. You instantly knew you couldn’t compete. You shouldn’t have to. If he truly loved you, he wouldn’t go astray. Not like this. Her bare breasts graced the screen, along with her toothy smile, in one of the many pictures that were exchanged between them. Who was she? A co-worker? The stereotypical secretary sleeping around for a better position?

❛If I don’t get to have you,

Thank God our matching tattoos last for life❜

You glance down at your marked arm. In a whirlwind and drunken night out with Eren, you both decided to get matching tattoos. You remember the shocked expression that took over his face as you slurred the words ‘Let’s get tattoos’, but he agreed nonetheless. You both laughed and ran through the crowded nighttime streets of New York and headed into the tattoo parlor. As cheesy as it was, the tiny heart appears to taunt you as regret instantly clouds your mind. You knew that this wasn’t worth fighting for. What happened to him. The promise he made you. Why did he do this.

You continue to torture yourself as you scroll through more of their steamy message exchanges. The living room light emitting a faint buzzing sound as your salty tears gently tap onto the phone screen.

❛I know I can’t help,

If you meet someone else❜

Life was full of surprises. This being one of them. Although unpleasant, you knew you couldn’t control his emotions, as much as you had wanted to. The mascara dries along your reddened cheeks as you pour another glass of wine.

❛You can take her home,

She can get you high❜

You suddenly heard the heavy patter of feet behind you as you saw a picture of the two casually smoking together, Eren’s arms wrapped around the mystery girls waist with smiles plastered across their faces.

You knew Eren smoked every once in a while to help with his anxiety, and you could only assume that the two were at a party as a purple hue dawned their joyous faces.

“Y/N what are you doi-,” Eren stops dead in his tracks, hair messily displayed as he awakens from his slumber. He was caught. Red fucking handed. The tension could easily be cut with a knife as no words are spoken between the two of you. You can’t even look him in the eye as he takes a seat next to you. The fucking audacity of this man. “Listen, I can explain,” You tune him out, hearing nothing but muffled noise. You were in a daze.

❛You can hold her heart,

Even after you broke mine❜

The next few weeks were filled with Eren trying to win you over once again, only for him to be met with cold responses. Your friends were in the midst of trying to get you out of there. Why did your lovestruck ass have to sign a lease with him so quickly? Well, that’s all in the past now. If he wanted her, he can have her.

A bouquet of roses? You threw them in the trash.

A reservation to your favorite restaraunt? You didn’t bother to show.

Bringing back the daily routine you once had of him giving you a kiss and twirling you when he comes home from work? Eh, I don’t think so.

❛You can tell her that you love her,

As long as it’s a lie❜

The night when you first found everything on his phone, you saw the exchanges of ‘I love you’s’ between the pair, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. You prayed silently it was just the lust talking, and he didn’t truly love her. But what difference would it make? The damage had already been done.

Eren was broken. He felt like his world came crashing down right before his very eyes. His heart shattered inch by inch with each attempt proving to be a failure in his aim to win you back.

July 2nd, 2024

Eren was speechless to come home with you nowhere in sight, was this just a bad dream? No. It couldn’t be. You had left. No goodbye, no note. Nothing. The apartment was cold & empty. He knew he lost you for good now. Was a quick fuck worth losing someone this important to him? His once green and dazzling eyes were now dark and gloomy, tears threatening to spill out at any given moment.

Your heart was broken in two as you sat in your new apartment, nestled in the heart of Manhattan. You wanted so badly to text Eren, but you knew in your heart, that you deserved better. Much better. Your phone vibrates beneath you.

"Shit." You hiss, forgetting to block his number.

Eren: Please, can we talk?

#angst #breakup #cheating #eren x reader #aot x reader #eren yaeger x reader #songfic #oneshot #eren yaeger imagine #eren yeager #fanfiction #eren jaeger #sad #eren x y/n #eren x you #eren

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sweetdreamsjeff · 3 months

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Jeff Buckley: The Lost Interview

In this previously unpublished conversation from 1994, captured just days before the release of ‘Grace,’ the mythic singer-songwriter pushes through self-doubt, professes his undying love for the Smiths and New York City, and interprets a dream wherein he critiqued a serial killer’s photography.

July 21, 2022 by Tony Gervino

In August of 1994, I interviewed the singer-songwriter Jeff Buckley for over an hour at the New York offices of Columbia Records. Other than pulling a few quotes for a regional music newspaper profile I wrote at the time, this conversation went unused. I put the recording in a box in my closet, where it remained for a quarter-century.

I went back over the transcript a couple of years ago and realized that our conversation offered a rare snapshot of the most pivotal moment in Buckley’s too-brief career. He hadn’t yet sat for many interviews and was trying to figure out his own narrative, just before he was to leave on a national tour that would make such quiet, thoughtful introspection a luxury.

The son of folk visionary Tim Buckley, he had made his mark in New York City as a solo artist in 1993, performing a suite of original songs and genre-spanning covers with only his guitar and multi-octave vocal range. The buzz didn’t really build; it seemed as if one day no one in the city’s music scene knew who Jeff Buckley was, and the next, everyone knew.

Prior to entering the studio to record his landmark debut album, Grace, which featured his most successful single, “Last Goodbye,” as well as his transcendent rendition of Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah,” Buckley mothballed his troubadour set. To help bring dimension to the music swimming around in his head, he recruited the collaborative working band of guitarist Michael Tighe, bassist Mick Grondahl and drummer Matt Johnson. He wanted his solo album to sound big, ambitious and genre-slippery as he headed to Bearsville Studios in Woodstock, N.Y.

Even though our meeting was less than two weeks before the album release, Buckley was still tinkering with the mixes on Grace, tormenting producer Andy Wallace with sonic flourishes and rewritten bridges, and hoping to squeeze every bit of inspiration out of himself before the tape stopped rolling. In the pre-streaming world, this was an unheard-of high-wire act for a debut artist. But for a young musician who was signed to Columbia Records after a prolonged bidding war, it indicated a bit of acquiescence on the label’s part. From what they’d seen of him, Buckley was a can’t-miss artist. He just needed time, which, tragically, he was ultimately denied. Jeff Buckley drowned in Memphis in May of 1997, just 30 years old.

I’ve edited this interview for length and clarity and removed some passages where I thought Buckley’s sarcasm could be misinterpreted, or where it spun off into tangents that ended with Buckley impersonating everyone from Paul McCartney to the French poet Baudelaire. He had the nervous energy of someone about to embark on a long journey, uncertain of its destination, and I wanted to ensure his answers would properly reflect not just his wit but his wisdom. ***** How does it feel to have to do interviews?

Well, at the outset I guess I figured why would anybody care? But I’m smart enough to know that people would want to talk about my music. I just didn’t think anyone would for a publication. But at this point the fatigue hasn’t set in, and no question is a stupid one. It’s still early.

[laughs] Mainly it’s helpful because I’m getting some ideas out about exactly what I think about some things. And the important thing in doing interviews is not to have any pat answers. That would make it unenjoyable for me. Like a … a murder suspect or something, in terms of having your story straight. Have you finished mixing the new album? No, I have one last day in the studio — one last gasp of creative breath before I have to go away. I’m totally pissed. Absolutely.

Did you write in the studio, or did you go in with the songs ready?

One of them was completely organized in the studio. But that was still prepared beforehand. A lot of stuff we’d done at the last minute because I was trying to get the right people to play with, and it took a while before I found them.

But that was only three weeks before I’d gone up to Woodstock to record and we hadn’t known each other that long, and the band material hadn’t developed as much. Some things were completely crystallized, and some things needed care, and they got it. I’m still not satisfied.

Let’s see: I get to go into the studio on Wednesday, the day before I leave and the night after I perform at [defunct NYC club] Wetlands. So I have one, two, three, four, five precious days to [work on the music], along with all the other stuff I have to do. I have to shoot some pictures, possibly for the album cover. Then at night I’m free to get these ideas together, and I’ll still have one last shot on two songs in particular. The producer [Andy Wallace] doesn’t even know what I want to do to this one song. [laughs] He’ll be horrified.

Have you played it out?

Uh-huh. There are just things I want to crystallize about it.

Is figuring songs out onstage a conscious effort on your part to fly or fail?

Yeah, because I love flying so much. But, really, it’s still a kind of discipline. I guess it’s an engagement. It’s not like having “song 1 to song 6 and then a talk.” I don’t know anybody who really does that. I know a lot of performers talk about not being so structured. … Sometimes you can see bands that have a set of songs, and that shit is dead. That … shit … is … dead.

When I perform, I’m working off rhythms that are happening all over the place, real or imagined, and it’s interactive. It’s got a lot of detail to it, so I can’t afford to tie it up in a noose, and put it in a costume that doesn’t belong on me. So yeah, it’s free but it has its own logic, and sometimes it completely falls flat on its face. But it’s worth the fall, sometimes. Because that’s life.

To me it makes sense to do things in that manner, because that’s really just the way life is when you step out of it and see that, like, your car has a flat and somebody smashed in your windshield and then, shit, you’re walking home and all of a sudden you run into somebody that turns out to be your favorite person for the rest of your life. It’s always … unfolding. You just have to recognize it, I guess. And that’s my philosophy, that I haven’t really thought about until you asked me.

Have you been a solo performer out of desire or necessity?

Both. I did it to earn money to pay rent in the place I was staying, and bills, and my horrible CD habit, and failing miserably all the time, always playing for tips and always just getting by — by the skin of my teeth.

To get this sound in order, you can have a path laid out in front of you, but if you don’t have the vehicle to go down the road you’ll never get to where you want to go. So I guess I was building the parts piece by piece or going through different forms, reforming them and trying out different ideas and songs.

How long have you been building these parts?

Some of them I wrote when I was 18 or 19, and some of them I wrote weeks ago, and some of them I’m still writing. [laughs] The rest of this album is kind of a purging, because the rest of the albums ain’t gonna happen like this. [points to chest] You’ll never see this person again.

Who and what are you going to become, Jeff?

I don’t know, just something deeper. Nothing alien, just something deeper. I’m just not satisfied. I’m really, horribly unsatisfied. Cause I kind of got an idea of where I want this thing to go. It’s still gonna be songs. I think about deepening the work that I do, and other problems I try to solve, like, “If I go to see this band in a loft, or if I went to see this band in a theater, and I wanted to be very, very, very enchanted and very engaged and maybe even physically engaged to where I’m dancing or where I’m moshing, what would that sound like? If I wanted to be cradled like a baby or smashed around like a fucking Army sergeant, what would that sound like?” I daydream all the time about it. And that’s sort of what I work toward. It’s more of an intimate thing.

In America the rock band is not an intimate thing, but in America soul bands are very intimate and blues bands are very intimate, like way back in the day, when people who invented blues were doing it. It’s all very interdependent and it’s all very … people had to listen to make the music. And it comes around in a lot of different ways. Things I’m doing now are pretty old-fashioned: I’m going on tour to little places to play small cafés. [He lays his itinerary out in front of us.]

What do you expect the reaction to be? You play New York City and, by now, the people here know your deal, but there are some cities where they’re not going to know.

That’s OK.

Will you tailor your performance to different tour stops? Does it change the way you perform?

Every time I perform it’s different.

How long have you been in New York City?

Three years. But I’ll always be here. I’ll always live here.

What is it about New York?

Everything. You know all the clichés: It’s the electricity, it’s the creativity, it’s the motion. It’s the availability of everything at any moment, which creates a complete, innate logic to the place. It’s like, there’s no reason why I shouldn’t have this now. There’s no reason I shouldn’t have the best library in the country, and there’s no reason why the finest Qawwali singer in all of Pakistan shouldn’t come to my neighborhood and I’ll go see him, and there’s no reason that Bob Dylan shouldn’t show up at the Supper Club.

There’s no reason that I can’t do this fucking amazing shit. And if you have a certain amount of self-esteem, it’s the perfect place because there’s so much. It’s majestic and it’s the cesspool of America. And there’s amazing poetry in everything. There are amazing poets everywhere, and some real horrible mediocrity, and an equal amount of pageantry. There’s also a community of people that have been left with nothing but their ability to put on a show, no matter what it is — whether it’s a novel or a performance reading on Monday night at St. Mark’s Church for 20 minutes. Where do you do the bulk of your writing?

Everywhere. You know what? Mostly it’s in 24-hour diners, on too much coffee. That’s an old Los Angeles thing.

How much does the location affect the writing?

To me music is about time and place and the way that it affects you. There’s just something about it. There’s just some spirit that somebody conjures up and then it floats out at you and helps you or hinders you throughout your life. It’s either Handel’s Messiah or it’s “All Out of Love” by Air Supply.

Music is just fucking insane. It’s everything. Music is like this: It’s always seemed to me to be one of the direct descendants of the thing in the universe that’s making everything work. It’s like the direct child of … life, [of] what being “people” is all about. It’s incredibly human but it touches things that are around us anyway. [pauses, then quietly] It’s hard to explain.

Give it a shot.

It gets into your blood. It could be [the Ohio Express’] “Yummy Yummy Yummy” or whatever. It gets in. It’s not like paintings and it’s not like sculptures, although those are really amazing and powerful. But I identify with music most.

And is live music the next degree of intensity?

Oh yeah, if they’re singing to me. You never hear it again, but you never forget it. I mean, you never forget it. It’s like the first time your mother cries in front of you. But I like making [music] and … I want the music to live live, even be written live, so it’s always forming, it’s ever unfolding.

The king of improvisation is [the late Qawwali singer] Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan — the most I’ve ever been filled with any performer’s energy. I have over $500 of his stuff. And I never got to see Keith Jarrett, but there was a time when he was my big hero for the same reason. Big, huge improvisation. Improvisation is something that I identify with.

Which of your new songs is your favorite? Is there one that you can’t wait to get to in your live set?

Not yet. I give each song pretty much the same attention, and I have the same reservations and the same carefulness about making sure I bring out its best. No favorites.

What’s a song by another artist that you wish you’d written, that completely devastates you?

Most of Nina Simone’s songs completely devastate me, although she didn’t write [most of] them. A lot of things that Dylan did are so impressionistic, even though his originals are supposed to be folky. Like “Sad-Eyed Lady of the Lowlands”: If I was a woman and he sang that to me, I’d be like, “Whatever you want, Bob. You want casual sex whenever you want it and still be with your wife? I don’t care.”

I’d like to write something like “Moanin’ for My Baby” by Howlin’ Wolf, and I’d also like to write something like [Gerry and the Pacemakers’] “You’ll Never Walk Alone.” I have schoolgirl crushes on a lot of songs that never seem to go away. Lots of Cocteau Twins. That’s somebody I got to tell exactly what I thought of them.

Where were they playing?

In Los Angeles, a long time ago on the Heaven or Las Vegas tour. I’m immensely in love with their originality, their shyness. … But … um … the Smiths! [stands up abruptly, then sits back down] I wish I’d written half the fucking Smiths catalog. There are so many: “I Know It’s Over”; I wish I’d written “How Soon Is Now?” I wish I’d written “Holidays in the Sun” by the Sex Pistols. I could go on forever, and I know you don’t have forever.

Maybe sleep on it. I’m curious, do you sleep a lot? No, I don’t.

Is your mind constantly racing? Are you always just … fast forward?

Have you ever seen those film montages when a guy’s going crazy, and it just gets faster and faster and…

Yeah, sure, that’s exactly what I mean. It’s exactly like that. It’s like, I don’t want to miss a thing, and [I get the] feeling that I will miss something. But usually I’m wrong. [laughs] But when I do sleep, I sleep hard and have the best dreams.

Do you remember your dreams?

Sometimes, and they become the basis for a lot of my learning. That comes along with my development as a human being. Lately I’ve been having a lot of killer dreams — like a killer is coming after me or I have to confront a killer. And when a killer is coming after me, what am I going to have to do? To kill him.

Interesting. What do you think that means? That something in me is going to be murdered. That a psychic killer is coming. Actually, I met him. Sometimes I meet people inside of me that don’t like me; sometimes I meet people inside of me that want to make love with me more than anything; sometimes I meet the most bizarre animals and am in the most bizarre situations.

One dream, I met a serial killer who lived out in a small town in, like, Virginia. A small suburban town, very nice, white picket fence. And he lived in the town in a church with the pews taken out. And he was an artist.

You remember this much detail? Just wait. He was a very short young man, probably about 28 years old with thinning black hair that I think he was ashamed of. He also had all of these photos of these people mangled beyond belief, carved up, dissected alive. They were still alive in these photos, and there was a wall of all of these seductively beautiful, textured, processed black-and-white photos. One man had been made into a basket. One man had been totally deboned but still kept alive, and his skin had been made into a basket upon which his head stood, looking straight into the camera. And right before he died, this snapshot was taken. And this is what this guy’s job was. And my task in the dream, I was the person that saw this amazing horror and this amazing pain. The photographs were screaming, and all of this madness, all of this waste at the hands of this person with a warped soul.

The irony of the dream was that his self-esteem was nothing, and he was saying, “This sucks. This is horrible. I don’t even want to show you.” I was so afraid of him and wanted to keep him in the same place long enough for the police to get him and take him away — while not being killed myself. Obviously. [laughs] So in order to be cool I had to ultimately be compassionate and point out the details in the picture where I felt there was brilliance and really good workmanship — all the while feeling that I would vomit any second, all the while so scared I thought I would cry. And that was the dream.

Sometimes I have really rhapsodic dreams, and sometimes I have little bits of memory … but lately it’s been killer dreams, and the police almost don’t come in time, although they do come in time. And then I met a woman inside me that hates me. I met the girl, I met the person that doesn’t like me, and then I met this person who was so lascivious sexually that she masturbates publicly all of the time, like she’s fixing her hair. And she looks beautiful doing it and really great, but everyone’s around her and she’s practically naked. I’m pretty transfixed by [dreams]. I link them to the way I perform. I don’t see any separation, because when you sing there’s a psychic journey that happens.

Do you write a lot of poetry?

I garner my songs from my poetry. If anything looks like it’s vibrating, yeah. But it’s a raw thing.

Was the Live at Sin-é EP, released in November of ’93, supposed to hold people over until the album comes out?

No, it served that purpose, but no, it’s just because I love that place.

How often have you played there?

I’ve played there a lot. I played there for over a year. At first I couldn’t get a slot. Shane [Doyle], the owner, had too many demos to listen to. I gave him a demo and a review, which is something I never ever, ever fucking do: pay credence to any one journalist’s opinion. But this was a good review. [laughs] Some positive, some negative. Mainly the negative stuff was my fault. So I thought that maybe I could get a gig at this little place because I wanted to play in little places to establish my sound and do the work and learn how to sing the way I wanted to sing. Because I didn’t have any teachers. There were teachers around Sin-é to teach what I needed to learn, but Shane couldn’t be bothered.

Then somebody crapped out on a bunch of Monday nights and my friend Daniel Harnett got me in. He said, “I’m doing one, and so you can do one too.” I was like, “Wow, thank you.” As it turned out, that was it. Bang! I really worked my ass off to get that gig and get others and to make money. How did you hook up with Columbia Records? They came to me. I didn’t intend for them to. I was just making music. Were they the only label that came to you? Nope. I met Clive Davis. Shook his hand. I met Seymour Stein. Seymour’s at Sire; Clive is at Arista. A lot of people were interested. I met somebody from RCA. Peter Koepke at London. Were they in the audience at your shows? Then they’d come up to you afterward? Yeah, and I didn’t really like it. I didn’t like Clive showing up in a limousine on the Lower East Side, in a fine suit. Poor guy — it was so hot in that fucking room. This was Sin-é, right? Yep, you were there — like a fucking furnace. In the middle of the fucking summer. I had my shirt off; the guy’s still in his work clothes ’cause his life is fully air-conditioned.

Did you have any misgivings about signing? Of course I did. Being brought up around the music business in Los Angeles, you see the turnover of people being signed and dropped day after day after day, and it’s all written off as a tax loss. To the company, it’s no sweat off their nose.

But here in New York it’s more about the work, and you don’t get anywhere without the work and that’s what I was doing. But I had misgivings about the size of the places. I had misgivings about my deservedness, about how good I was. I had misgivings about who they thought I was and what they thought I was. And how I wasn’t what they thought. At all.

Which is? Don’t record companies think that every male solo performer with a guitar is the New Dylan?

No, they thought I was the second coming of Tim Buckley. [quietly] That’s what I thought they thought.

Is that a recurring worry of yours?

It was that as a child. But now I’m totally immersed in what I do. If someone asks a question about it, I just tell them as much truth about things as I know. I had no misgivings once I saw my first and only liaison to Columbia Records, [former head of A&R] Steve Berkowitz. He was there from a pretty early stage, just listening. Which is what he does. Because he loves music. And he’s smart. And he’s smart enough to work this fucking gig at Columbia and to do a good job. The personnel here [at Columbia] are what really changed my worries, but I’m really worried up until, like, now. How would you describe your sound? I can’t explain it because I’m actually confused. It’s not really a tremendous literary feat to describe it. It’s just an amalgam of everything I’ve ever loved and everything that’s ever inspired me. I’m using that now. How do the Columbia folks describe you? They don’t know. At a recent convention I played in Boca Raton for A&R folks at like 11 in the morning, the guy that introduced me said, “We really don’t know what this is. We don’t know what kind of record he’s gonna make. We just know he has to make it.” … a.k.a. “Introducing the boy genius…” I’m not a boy genius. I’m neither one, actually. But I’m aware that these people have to move units. I’m aware that this company, by inertia alone, has an agenda. That it can function without me, and I can function without it. But there’s a certain thing that I can’t have without it, and that’s making little plastic discs and traveling the world and being a musician, and they seem to want me. A lot. And I feel that where I’m going is worthwhile, that maybe when I get there this all will have been … whatever crappy shit I’ve ever done will be redeemed. Do you think you’ll ever get there? Sure. Or you’ll find me swinging from somebody’s dressing room [laughs] with a big blue arm holding a Jam tape.

#jeff buckley #jeffbuckley #Tony Gervino #The Lost Interview #TIDAL

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