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rainydawgradioblog · 3 years

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a covidsation with mary claire

For the first Covidsation for autumn quarter, here is an interview I did back in May with Mary Claire, my dear friend and one of my favorite local artists. Mary Claire is a singer-songwriter based here in Seattle who makes “sad girl rock” (see: Mitski, Angel Olsen, etc.). I first met them through the DIY scene and was lucky enough to book them at the finale Red Room show, a house venue I used to live at and help run. As evidenced by the picture below taken that very night, seeing Mary Claire play live is a magical, mesmerizing, captivating experience. Often accompanied with minimal, but tonally-rich instrumentals, their powerful and hauntingly stunning voice paired with visceral, poetic lyrics transport you into another realm. I *highly* recommend listening to their album Phantom Limb, which you can find on your streaming platform of choice or you can snag a physical copy at Everyday Music on the Hill like I did! Last month, they also just released an incredible stop-motion music video for their song off PL called “I Don’t Like Drinking”, directed, edited, and animated by Barb Hoffman, which you can find here! Thank you Mary Claire for these thoughtful responses and for creating such vulnerable, beautiful art <3

Lola Gil: Tell me about your project. How has it evolved? Which artists are you most inspired by? How would you describe your sound?

Mary Claire: Hi hi I’m Mary Claire. I was never someone who was playing music since they were a little kiddo, it was something I picked up my senior year of high school. But pretty much everyone in my family has some amazing and weirdly specific aptitude for music, so I think being surrounded by that kind of allowed me to gather an eclectic, personal understanding, appreciation, and internalized feeling for music, so I never really took lessons or anything like that. I enjoyed and still enjoy that from the start, I was okay with the fact that I didn’t know “academic” theory and I just played with what feels and sounds right. And I still do that. So I played around with all those youthful punk feelings and had an angsty band in high school that was not bad for small town Sacramento. I think I learned so much from that and it gave me a flood of unhindered and unhinged confidence for recording, performing, maneuvering stage mechanics and technicalities, etc. Also it introduced me into the world of songwriting that I did for that band and for myself that just immediately poured out of me, which led me to what I’m doing now. I am extremely lyrically-focused and write mostly about lived personal experience that I surrender to and make extremely overly-wordy. I went from a solo act, to a bigger full piece crunchier band, to me and a piano player, back to a solo set, so I’m really just kind of evolving with my resources, the songs I’m currently living in and playing, and with what would bring everything to life most fully.

I’m inspired by everyone, even if I don’t necessarily sound like them or listen to them all the time. Like, my adoration for incredibly angry punk music is what got me started in the creation of my own music, so that foundation will never leave me. Even though I won’t sound like IDLES or Shame or Pissed Jeans, their point of view and their devotion to cramming so many words into one breath is a place I also come from. We execute similar feelings in different ways. And though I currently am not anything like Yves Tumor, King Krule, or FKA Twigs, the layers in their stuff sends me so far. But I think lyrically and melodically, I pull inspiration from and sink most into Mitski, Sasami, Angel Olsen, Palehound, Big Thief, Bella Porter, Darci Phenix, Fiona Apple, Sufjan Stevens, Izumi, and Weyes Blood.

Someone once said my tunes are “sad girl rock” and I think that sticks in a fun, quick way, so that’s what I tell people. But more recently, the stuff on my upcoming album I think is like a sad, fucked up, incredibly fast-paced nursery rhyme book (lol). I’m really excited for this album I wrote, more than anything ever. Also my good friend and twin flame Francis is helping me record it and is giving me a lot of knowledge and challenges and affirmations and inspiration. I owe a lot of this second album’s production and complexity him. There are a lot more people involved in the recording of this one, so it’s a lot fuller in a new and exciting and scary way.

LG: As an artist, how have you been affected by the pandemic? I saw most of your tour you had booked was unfortunately cancelled-- are you planning on rescheduling?

MC: Rescheduling feels so completely beyond me right now, so I am just considering it to be cancelled until things in the world really start to settle down to some degree of safety and responsibility. However, the silver lining in all of this ‘rona stuff is that it has given me a ton of time to recenter myself with my music and devote my own energy into recording and feeling the core of my upcoming album. I think when the world is moving so fast, it’s easy for me to feel like I’m behind, like other people are getting shit done faster and in a more “impressive way”, in a way that matters more or has more inherent value. So when we are all forced to stay at home with ourselves, not only does it remind me that all of those insecurities are completely not real and are in fact a delusion borne from a capitalistic-productivity-equals-artistic-worth-framework, but I also get time to actually enjoy and fine tune what I otherwise might have just thrown out into the ether desperately and prematurely in hopes to be current and up to date and ~with it~.

LG: Have you been working on writing any new tunes? Have you been involved in any other creative projects recently?

MC: When I was recording Phantom Limb, I wrote the majority of my next upcoming album, so while those songs don’t feel incredibly new, there is a ton of stuff I have yet to share and that I am so eager to scream to the world. It feels like some of the stuff I am most proud of making in my entire life.

But since I left for Berlin to study abroad last fall to when I came back to Seattle this January, I really hadn’t written anything new. I think I had been going through a lot of personal and immense change and hard growth that wasn’t particularly inspiring, it just sucked and was intense and necessary, but sometimes all that bad stuff is not something you can just make art out of. Plus I had to just do something totally different and invest and surrender to techno and being a gross city Eurotrash gremlin and let that out cathartically. But recently, I wrote my first super new song in what feels like ages, and I’m so happy. I was afraid maybe I’d forgotten how to do it, but it’s pouring out of me again and I feel like me again. I have also been working a bit back and forth with a friend from the project World Peace. We just keep sending clips back and forth and weaving our separate projects together a bit, which is something I’ve never done and I’m having a ton of fun, especially because our music is so different. Besides that, I have some plans to work with another good friend Izumi after having adored them the moment I moved here.

LG: How have you personally been dealing with the pandemic and the craziness that is 2020? What has your quarantine experience been like so far?

MC: I went home to Sacramento for a month and watched more TV than I had probably in my entire life. It was really good to see my family and siblings who I miss so much. But I came back to Seattle in April and since then have just been spending my days in a limbo of online school weirdness. But I’m so fortunate that I live with so many people who are all so unique, all of whom I feel are my best friends. So I definitely don’t get too bored:)

LG: What music have you been listening to during quarantine? What has been your go-to isolation album?

MC: Okay to be honest, when I begin to think of my next album and what it feels like inside of me, I make one single playlist with like hours and hours of songs on it and it’s the only thing I listen to for like a year. So I’m prone to listening to the same stuff perpetually forever and always, but I think I’ve always sort of been like that. It makes the feeling familiar. But since I’ve felt close to the sounds of my upcoming album for a long while now, I’ve actually pretty much been listening to what is my ~album 3~ inspo playlist, because I already feel that beast growing inside of me. I’m a planner.

Most of the artists on those playlists are the ones I listed above in regards to who I feel are my biggest inspirations. But right when quarantine started though I would pretty much only play Man Alive!, I would just go through the whole thing and then restart immediately. When I was in Sacramento, my family had a rule I could only play it with headphones because it was literally nonstop, that’s just how I consume things; I take a bath in them until I feel every single part of what was made. But other than that, I’ve been bumping Peter Campanelli’s Pesto Baby and crying a lot about it, Darci Phenix’s (my best bud from Sac) Juniper Street which is some of the best songwriting literally ever, and Francis Farmer’s Bruised Fruit which is SO expertly recorded and thought out, I am so lucky he is my friend and wants to record my upcoming album with me.

LG: Arethere any spring shows that you were particularly looking forward to attending that got cancelled?

MC: Pretty much all of them imaginable.

LG: How do you think the Seattle music scene is going to be like post-COVID?

MC: Hopefully, this can recenter us and remind us we’re all really really and truly in this together. It’s up to us to lift each other up and get each other on bills and spread the word and create community for those who need it most and for those whose lives rely on this art. Seattle seems like it is really good at that on a small scale, but once it gets to a little bit larger stage, it’s easy for people to forget where they came from, who supported them, and what should be at the forefront of our radars. I think shedding this cool guy persona and getting back to why this shit is so important and listening to/PROMOTING smaller artists who are making The Best stuff is something everyone could be reminded to do.

LG: In this funky era of social distancing, how do you think artists can support each other during these weird and difficult times? How do you think social media is facilitating and/or inhibiting connection within Seattle’s overall creative community?

MC: I think people’s ability to make what seemed like such an immediate switch to social media music promotion and shows was really amazing. However, it makes me feel a bit hopeless and dystopian and sci-fi in a weird way. That being said, trying to resist the change has only proven to be detrimental to me and kind has come back to kick me in the ass. Like, I should not be turning down opportunities just because livestreams kind of freak me out in how foreign and disconnected they can appear to be. I’m no better than them, and it’s important I think to accept things where they’re at instead of pretending they’re not happening.

That being said, I think everyone has been maneuvering with such grace and empathy and compassion for others in a way that I can really feel, and I hope that sticks around forever.

- Lola Gil

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mothermaidenclone-blog · 5 years

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Ad Astra or This Movie Was the Brad Pitts

Ad Astra was the worst movie I have paid to see since 2015’s Kill Your Friends, which is my least favourite cinema experience of all time. It was a dry and dreary story about emotionally stunted white men in a bleak and boring capitalist version of space, with jarring and superfluous Christian undertones. The plot and everyone’s motives were so non-existent that Brad Pitt had to narrate the whole thing in a monotone so flat and dead I literally screamed all the way from the cinema to the bus stop when it was over, partly out of a frustration so deep it was non-verbal, but also just to finally hear some pitch variation.

*Ad Astra spoilers follow*

There technically were women in this movie. Lots of women, particularly women of colour, occupied high ranking positions and were addressed by their titles, a touch I think is important and that usually tips the scales in favour of a good review for me. We were graced with Adjutant General Vogel (LisaGay Hamilton), Captain Lu (Freda Foh Shen), Sergeant Romano (Kimmy Shields), Tanya Pincus (Natasha Lyonne) and Lorraine Deavers (Kimberly Elise), as well as several unnamed female personnel (Kayla Adams, Elisa Perry, Sasha Compère and Mallory Low). I would like to particularly highlight Natasha Lyonne’s performance as apparently she was the only actor employed to play a human being and not a replicant. She was on screen for maybe twenty seconds, as is sadly the case with most of these women, but was a glorious breath of fresh air as the only character to simultaneously emote expressively and speak with inflection and enthusiasm. The only one! In a two hour movie!

All of these women appear to be respected and capable members of various illustrious teams, but are always outnumbered by men. There are two male generals alongside Vogel and Deavers is initially outnumbered 4:1 on her space craft by men. Tragically, whenever a team is being picked off, it is always the people of colour who die first. Not only is this obviously racist, it is just a disgusting cliché that we just don’t need to see anymore in movies. Deavers dies first when Roy (Brad Pitt) forcibly invades their vehicle, followed by Franklin Yoshida (Bobby Nish), an Asian man, and Donald Stanford (Loren Dean), a white guy, is the last to go. Roy cradles him in his arms and attempts to save his life. I hope it’s not just me that sees something wrong with the order of events there.

A similar scenario takes place in the lunar chase, which absurdly seems to occur in the same crapy looking buggies as the original moon landing, a confusing visual choice considering we’ve just seen a vast and impressive modern concrete moon base. The film takes the time to introduce us to Willie Levant (Sean Blakemore), a black officer who will be escorting Ray across the moon. As soon as we see he has a photo of his wife and child taped to his tablet screen I knew he was going to die - in the year 2019 I should not be able to predict that a black character is going to die because we saw a family photo. Can we just not anymore? Again, aside from the racism, that’s just shitty writing. I like to think that as a species, if we can conceptualise something as vast and seemingly impossible as solar travel, we can also move beyond basic and derogatory cinematic tropes.

I was most excited by the appearance of Helen Lantos (Ruth Negga), a woman of colour who occupies a position of power on Mars and introduces herself assertively using her full name. Also, her whole look was excellent. However, this brief release of serotonin was very short lived as she literally walks Roy down a corridor then is immediately cut off and superseded by a white guy with a man bun. Lantos does return later, but alas, as an exposition machine to give Roy some plot news about his dad. Even as she explains that her parents were murdered by his, Lantos falls victim to the dire, emotionless monotone that I can only assume was forced on the entire cast of this film. Then, she is an actual chauffeur and drives Ray to a manhole so he can continue his dad quest. A character brimming with original potential is presented as nothing more than a device.

The final woman to mention is the first one we see, Roy’s ex-wife Eve (Liv Tyler). We see the blurry, out of focus back of her head in the background of a shot before we see her face, and this is incredibly telling, because that’s all Eve is, the simulacrum of a woman. She could be anybody - so why she is Liv Tyler defies belief, I can only assume they held her loved ones hostage - her story is untold and entirely irrelevant. Again, she is only a device, although this time not for Roy’s forward momentum, but this time seemingly to emphasise that Roy is a total sociopath with no emotions whatsoever. We don’t learn Eve’s name for another twenty minutes, and it is an hour and twenty minutes before we hear her speak. Even then, it’s not a live conversation, because god forbid this film have too many of those, but a voice recording explaining that their relationship is over. I’m not going to lie, I’m pretty sure that’s what it was, but everything she said was so generic I have no memory of it whatsoever. She is presented as a ghost, a blurry image on a screen, a memory fixed in time, not a real person with agency and personality. At the end of the movie we finally see her in real time, and that is when she has made the unfathomable decision to meet Roy for coffee. Even her face in that moment gives no emotion away, perhaps because Tyler had no idea how to act this entirely nonsensical decision. To our knowledge, she would not have seen any change in Roy, only received news that he survived a dangerous space mission, which is apparently enough of a reason to get back with this emotionless egg of a man?

I almost didn’t want to devote words to them, but I think it’s important to address just how dire Roy and his dad H. Clifford McBride (Tommy Lee Jones) are. This is their film, they are the reason that all of these women’s stories are passed over. It is made clear over and over again that both Roy and Clifford believe they are the only people capable of completing their various missions. Roy hijacks a ship and inadvertently kills everyone on board because he thinks that it’s his destiny or whatever to get his dad back, never mind that they were all highly trained space personnel who were arguably better suited to the mission precisely because it wasn’t their dad. Clifford straight up murders his whole crew because they are too “small minded” to fly off further and further into space forever on a mission that has yet yielded absolutely no evidence of their goals. A variety of talented human beings are destroyed because of the entitlement of white men, their delusional and unshakable conviction that they are at the centre of the universe and that no one else could possibly accomplish the lofty goals that kismet apparently calls them to.

The way they speak about themselves and to each other is absolutely psychotic. Roy’s solo musings include, “The flight recorder will tell the story, but history will have to decide,” and “In the end, the son suffers the sins of the father.” Clifford imparts his son with the delightful greeting of, “There was never anything there for me, I never cared for you or your mother or your small ideas.” In addition, they both physically flinch from human contact at various points in the move. Now, I totally understand that we live in a neurodiverse world and that many people experience emotions and social interactions in any number of ways, and that is a beautiful thing that makes our world so interesting to live in. However, that these men both abjectly state that they have no empathy is presented within the context of their megalomaniacal ideals that they must accomplish their god-given quests irregardless of how many people they have to kill along the way. It is a facet of their strangely two-dimensional, arrogant and narcissistic personalities, not one part of many complex features that make a complete and relatable human being.

Roy has to literally say out loud that he is a human being at the end of the movie; “I will rely on those closest to me…I will live and love,” which makes him sound more like a learning AI trying to pass a Turing test than anything else. The music swells as Clifford throws himself towards the surface of Neptune in an orchestral deluge that is unsubtly significant in this very quiet film, as though I’m supposed to start crying and think anything other than, “well thank fuck, it’s about time this murderer dies in the cold vacuum of space, I hope Roy stays spinning and screaming here forever too.” We are supposed to feel sympathy for them as the heroes of this movie, despite the fact that they show no care for anyone else throughout the whole thing and act entirely in their own self interests.

Overall, the women in this film are given about five seconds of potential as they introduce themselves variously as decorated soldiers and otherwise capable personnel, before being shoved to the side, or murdered, for Roy. This is obviously objectionable, but is made so much worse by the fact that Roy is an emotionless, entitled, empathy-less white man who doesn’t care if other people have to die for him to get what he wants. That is what these women are being passed up in favour of. I felt like I was watching a two hour long Voight-Kampff test. Space movies like this should be about what we can achieve if we work together as a species, not about how white men will still be the kings of dreary capitalism, even on the moon. We can do better than this.

And now for some asides:

What the actual fuck was the font at the beginning? I guess a red serif all caps should have alerted me to the fact that I was about to watch a horror movie.

As a lover of space horror, I was absolutely gutted that it was a bad CG angry baboon and not a cool gross alien. Also, what was that scene? “Hmm, we need to get rid of this loser because Brad Pitt is the best at space ships and he needs to be the captain. Uhh…what about…space monkeys? Yeah! Space monkeys on a deserted Norwegian ship. That makes sense.”

Can I just have a film bout those moon pirates fighting space capitalism please? I was more invested in them that anyone else in this garbage movie.

Credit for the Bradd Pitts joke goes to the talented and lovely Ed Cheverton

#ad astra #Film Review #movie review #feminism #sci-fi #scifi #science fiction #brad pitt #liv tyler #tommy lee jones #ruth negga #freda foh shen #lisagay hamilton #natasha lyonne

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i-breathe-therefore-i-read · 5 years

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Beautiful Bastard Series by Christina Lauren

An ambitious intern. A perfectionist executive. And a whole lot of name calling. Whip-smart, hardworking, and on her way to an MBA, Chloe Mills has only one problem: her boss, Bennett Ryan. He's exacting, blunt, inconsiderate—and completely irresistible. A Beautiful Bastard. Bennett has returned to Chicago from France to take a vital role in his family's massive media business. He never expected that the assistant who'd been helping him from abroad was the gorgeous, innocently provocative—completely infuriating—creature he now has to see every day. Despite the rumors, he's never been one for a workplace hookup. But Chloe's so tempting he's willing to bend the rules—or outright smash them—if it means he can have her. All over the office. As their appetites for one another increase to a breaking point, Bennett and Chloe must decide exactly what they're willing to lose in order to win each other.

*What I thought: 4 out of 5 stars

read: 6/19

It’s so trashy and a bad representation of how a relationship works but I couldn’t stop reading it. I was addicted to it. lol

There was definitely some things Bennett did, I was not okay with. He’s the type of man I want to stay far away from. Chloe doesn’t put up with his BS so I guess that’s why they work. It’a such a weird relationship. I mean there was cute moments between them but mostly it was just mainly panty ripping sex. What’s up with that fetish anyway? Cute underwear is expensive and I would be pissed if someone kept doing that!

I liked how it ended. Their relationship was a lot better than how it started.

Just when Chloe’s career starts to take off, Bennett wishes it would all slow down long enough to spend a wild night alone with his girlfriend. But after he refuses to take no for an answer, Chloe and Bennett find themselves with two plane tickets, one French Villa, and a surprising conversation that, predictably, leaves them wrestling under the covers.

*What I thought: 3 out of 5 stars

read: 7/19

I thought this was just okay. Honestly I wished I didn't buy it or read it because I don't think it added more to the characters. I did like it showed a glimpse of Max.

Escaping a cheating ex, finance whiz Sara Dillon’s moved to New York City and is looking for excitement and passion without a lot of strings attached. So meeting the irresistible, sexy Brit at a dance club should have meant nothing more than a night’s fun. But the manner—and speed—with which he melts her inhibitions turns him from a one-time hookup and into her Beautiful Stranger. The whole city knows that Max Stella loves women, not that he’s ever found one he particularly wants to keep around. Despite pulling in plenty with his Wall Street bad boy charm, it’s not until Sara—and the wild photos she lets him take of her—that he starts wondering if there’s someone for him outside of the bedroom. Hooking up in places where anybody could catch them, the only thing scarier for Sara than getting caught in public is having Max get too close in private.

*What I thought: 4 out of 5 stars

read: 7/19

I didn’t think anybody could top an underwear fetish but boy was I wrong! Max and Sara were some exhibitionists! I liked Sara’s whole mentality of just having fun because her ex-fiancee was a douche canoe. I loved the moment when Sara realized that he wasn’t a stranger that’ll she’ll never see again. lol

I really liked Max. He was a perfect match for her kinkiness. lol I like that it was Max that was pursuing for more unlike most stories it’s the girl.

Overall I like the growth of both the characters and their relationship. The only thing that I didn't like was how come password protection was not put on devices?!? Private things wouldn’t have gotten out!! Gah the embarrassment! lol

When Max, Henry, and Will steal Bennett away for a weekend of shenanigans and strippers in Vegas, the first stop of the night doesn’t go at all as planned. With their scheme for a Guys Weekend completely derailed anyway, Max and Bennett begin to play a wild game of stealth and secrecy in order to have their bombshells all over Sin City.

*What I thought: 4.5 out of 5 stars

read: 7/19

I really liked reading their shenanigans in Vegas. Bennett and Max were hilarious with trying to sneak out to find their ladies to have some fun. ;)

A bombshell bookworm. A chronic Casanova. And a lesson in chemistry too scandalous for school. When Hanna Bergstrom receives a lecture from her overprotective brother about neglecting her social life and burying herself in grad school, she’s determined to tackle his implied assignment: get out, make friends, start dating. And who better to turn her into the sultry siren every man wants than her brother’s gorgeous best friend, Will Sumner, venture capitalist and unapologetic playboy? Will takes risks for a living, but he’s skeptical about this challenge of Hanna’s…until the wild night his innocently seductive pupil tempts him into bed- and teaches him a thing or two about being with a woman he can’t forget. Now that Hanna’s discovered the power of her own sex appeal, it’s up to Will to prove he’s the only man she’ll ever need.

*What I thought: 5 out of 5 stars

read: 7/19

So far this is my favorite one! I absolutely loved Hanna and Will. I loved Hanna’s blunt, no filter personality. There was so many things she just spouted out that had my eyes bugging out. I laughed so much at what came out of her mouth lol. I loved how much she tried to do things she normally wouldn’t have.

I couldn’t wait to read about Will because in the past books, he wasn’t really in it. Just little bits. So I was super excited to see how he works. I liked that he wasn’t a complete man whore like his buddies were. He’s a schedule man which I never heard of.

I really loved reading how their relationship blossomed from his best buddy’s kid sister until them getting all hot and heavy. I laughed when Hanna’s family became suspicious of their relationship by calling her by her name and not her nickname. lol

Overall, two thumbs up.

An exasperated bride who just wants to elope. A determined groom whose only focus is getting to the wedding night. And—of course—a whole lot of name calling.

*What I thought: 4 out of 5 stars

read: 7/19

I liked it though Bennett and Chloe are my least favorite of the couples so far. They’re just too intense and angry for my romantic heart lol. I like the shenanigans with Chloe’s aunts lol. I’m so glad I don’t have any ladies like that in my family lol. I laughed so much with what Bennett told them to do. Now after reading this....I really need a story with just George. He’s probably my favorite minor character in any book. He’s so hilarious and I want him to have something too! Whenever he’s in the scene, I wished there was more of him. Give my George!

When Ruby Miller’s boss announces he’s sending her on an extended business trip to New York City, she’s shocked. As one of the best and brightest young engineers in London, she knows she’s professionally up to the task. The part that’s throwing her is where she’ll be spending a month up close and personal working alongside—and staying in a hotel with—Niall Stella, her firm’s top urban planning executive and The Hottest Man Alive. Despite her ongoing crush, Ruby is certain Niall barely knows she’s alive…until their flirty overnight flight makes him sit up and take notice. Not one for letting loose and breaking rules, recently divorced Niall would describe himself as hopeless when it comes to women. But even he knows outgoing California-girl Ruby is a breath of fresh air. Once she makes it her mission to help the sexy Brit loosen his tie, there’s no turning back. Thousands of miles from London, it’s easy for the lovers to play pretend. But when the trip is over, will the relationship they’ve built up fall down?

*What I thought: 3.5 out of 5 stars

read: 7/19

I really liked that Niall was the least experienced out of all the boys in the series. Kinda refreshing when the main guy in the story isn’t a playboy. Every time I read stories of men getting around, all I think of is that they're walking std’s. lol

While I liked Ruby, I also got weirded out on how obsessive she was towards Niall. It got awkward at times. I like how she’s understanding with how Niall is because his ex-wife messed with his head but then at times, she’s pushing for more than he is ready for. Like girl we know you’ve married him in your mind since meeting him and writing his name in your notebook but give the man some time to come to terms with a failed relationship he had for half of his life!

Completely off topic but why do most romance stories the couples never wear condoms? Like most of these couples in this series seem like they never heard of them or they mention I’ve never done this before with others but want to with their partner. I guess that’s how we know ‘it’s true luv 4ever’ 🙄

One Player tamed. One nerd girl satisfied. And one more major life decision to make. When Will fell for Hanna, her quirky sense of humor and fierce dedication to her career were part of the attraction. (Not to mention her coy newbie attitude toward sex and her willingness to let him teach her everything.) But when the job offers start rolling in for her—and oh, they do—Hanna has trouble deciding what she wants, where they should live, and how much she should burden Will with the decision. Magic between the sheets is only one part of a relationship...getting on the same page is quite another altogether.

*What I thought: 2 out of 5 stars

read: 7/19

I was a little disappointed with this because I love Will and Hanna. I really liked the beginning with them getting married but quickly got bored with reading about Hanna being indecisive with where she wants to work at. I ended up skimming the book.

Oh wait, there was a one scene where the group all drinks together and there was this one part with George getting a kiss he’ll remember forever, that was the best. lol

#beautiful bastard series #beautiful bastard #beautiful bitch #beautiful stranger #beautiful bombshell #beautiful player #beautiful beginning #beautiful secret #beautiful boss #my bookish thoughts

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vaingloriosa · 6 years

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Under The Twinkling Lights

John Wick/ Reader

Words: 1.9k

Summary: The wedding of your vile cousin was a pretty hard pill to swallow. You remember that you had to find a date somehow to one up her. That’s when your finger hovers over John’s name on your phone.

Request: Fake dating au where reader asks john wick to go to her cousins wedding with her as her fake date bc she and her cousin hate each other and she doesn’t want to be made fun of so she asks him and he’s like sure and they fall in love over the weekend.

Tagging: @kwaiky, @ly--canthrope

Requested by: @truely-the-darkest-timeline

Author’s note: imma just say that wow... i had a whole bunch of fun writing this. tweaked the request a bit to fit this vision i had on the direction i wanted this fic to go on. shouts out to my parent’s for such a power move!

You are cordially invited to-

You throw down the invitation in irritation. You know damn well your cousin only sent this invitation out of courtesy and not out of the genuine kindness of her heart. She would much rather have your creepy next door neighbor come to the wedding instead of you if she could.

The story behind your hate towards one another is rather simple: your grandparents had always held a favoritism towards her. Spoiling her, paying some of her tuition for college, and actively praising her for basic human growth. On the other hand, your grandparents couldn’t even spell your name right, let alone give two cents for college. No matter how hard you tried, you were never enough for one side of your family. Never good enough to be as prestigious as them, whatever that meant. Ever since that one family reunion when you were younger, you had never hated anyone more than your cousin.

You sigh as you begrudgingly pick the invitation back up to read the rest of the stupid thing. Your eyes lay on those little words: plus one. You close your eyes for a moment and realize that you had to bring somebody to this wedding. And not just anybody; you needed a boyfriend.

You scratch your head and groan out loud. How dare your cousin put this amount of pressure on you? You sink lower into the couch to contemplate your options. You grab your phone then know exactly who to call up.

John’s name appears along with the multiple heart emojis you use for his contact name. You smile slightly at your phone. John’s a good friend you met through a mutual friend of yours. Ever since that encounter, you’ve went out for coffee, gotten dinner together, and, well, you two could easily pass as a couple.

Yet if he’s only just a friend, why is your heart fluttering like no tomorrow?

You bite the bullet and press “call”, curling up on the couch and rest your head on your open palm. After three tones, John picks up.

“Hello?”

“Hey, John, it’s Papa John’s Pizza. We’ve noticed you haven’t ordered one of our hot delicious pizzas in the past week and we’re wondering if everything is alright?”

You hear John sigh at how terrible your joke is. You snort at his reaction and wait to see if he’ll play along with it.

“Does that mean I get free pizza?”

“No, bitch, we’re a business. We don’t give free handouts unless you’re disgusting capitalist who definitely doesn’t need free things.” You hear a pause after the last sentence. You may have possibly spilled too much truth with that one.

“Well, if there is no free pizza involved, then what’s up?” John asks while you take a tight grip of your knee.

“All jokes aside, I need to ask you a question. Sort of important. It’s okay if you say no...” you begin to trail off.

“Okay. Hit me.”

“My cousin is getting married. You know, the one I can’t fathom. Anyways, I was wondering if you...could...be my fake boyfriend for the occasion? I just don’t want her to make fun of me for going solo, as superficial as that may sound. Like I said you don’t have to go since it’s for an entire weekend.” You bite the bottom of your lip in anticipation of John’s answer.

“Yes.”

You nearly lose your breath over his answer. “Really?”

“It would be an honor to be your fake boyfriend.”

You pace back and forth while looking down at your phone. Where the hell is he? Your heart is racing just thinking about confronting your worst enemy. You don’t think you can do this without-

“Hello, you.”

And there is that snarky, condescending tone of your cousin. You shove your phone back into your purse and push a fake smile on your face.

“It’s nice to see you too.” There’s an empty silence between the two of you. You could pick out the awkwardness one by one if you could. You two stare each other down, your cousin craning their neck quite a bit. Once again, she plasters a forced smile with gritted teeth.

“I see you’ve come alone despite putting an RSVP for a plus one. A shame but not surprising.” She huffs but before she can cram more bullshit and nonsense, you watch her facial expression change from defiant to, well, surprised. You feel a hand on the small of your back.

“Sorry I’m late, love,” John kisses you on your temple, “Traffic was wild. You know how I always pack last minute so there was that. Then I had to give Daisy over to a friend of mine to dog sit.”

He stops and extends his hand towards your cousin. You are in bewilderment but realize that John is trying to save your ass from the devil.

“John Wick, Y/N’s boyfriend.” Your cousin nods her head up and down while she shakes his hand. She immediately breaks the handshake and tries her best to appear normal.

“Welcome, welcome! Hope you two enjoy the weekend!” Your cousin smiles, darting her eyes at you as she takes her leave. You turn to John who is observing the mansion before you two.

“Talk about great timing,” you breath, your eyes wide with relief. You watch as John removes his gaze from the house to you.

“One of my many talents.” John opens up his hand for you to take. With a cheesy smile, you oblige and all worry about your cousin diminishes. If John could strike fear into your cousin’s eyes, then you should just marry him then and there. But that could be the wedding talking.

“So, turns out that there is only one bed.” You swing your interlocked hands back and forth. Nothing felt foreign to you about the feeling; almost like touching him felt natural to you.

John hums at this revelation. “Guess we’re just going to have to sleep together since you know, we’re boyfriend and girlfriend.”

You’d be lying if you said your heart didn’t burst a tiny bit.

Through the dumb wedding rehearsal and getting through the actual wedding ceremony, you manage to remain on the ground with John by your side. The whole fake relationship shtick turns out to be so much easier than you expected but it’s no reason because it’s John. Everything you do with him seems so natural and in sync. You can tell that your cousin definitely doesn’t want to admit how cute you and John look together even though everyone else appears to root for you two.

Though your parents were taken aback that you found a boyfriend and never told them, John’s charm and cuteness won them over and instantly forgave you. You thank God for that close one. As you watch John interact with your parents, that made you realize that you are incredibly lucky to have someone like him in your life.

If only you knew John felt the same about you.

John fell in love with you gradually. Every time you two met up, sparks flew and he had to pinch himself sometimes to find out if any of this was real. Never had John ever fallen this hard for someone. Watching you enjoy life without apology, never letting people in the way of your success, and being a beautiful individual made John’s crush that more deep.

That’s why this wedding is a perfect opportunity. Carpe noctem.

With the wedding reception in full swing, you take another hearty sip of your glass. Whatever is in this alcohol must have been spiked to the nines because after two glasses, you felt like you were on cloud nine. You have even forgotten why you were so angry with your cousin for the past several years. Yet you are still coherent enough to know you still had a role to play in this wedding. Getting up from your seat at the table, you grab John’s hand and drag him to the makeshift dance floor in the backyard of the estate. John doesn’t hesitate, more eager to finally get his plan rolling out.

The DJ picks another upbeat song from the band Sheppard and the crowd instantly comes to life around the two of you. Your red silk dress flows in every direction, radiating your every move. John twirls you around and causes the most beautiful effect of your dress becoming like waves in the ocean.

An ocean he can’t wait to be in.

As you giggle at the atrocities of John’s so called “dance moves”, the music fades and someone comes right behind John to pass him a microphone. Your eyebrow quirks as you didn’t know it was time for karaoke. You didn’t even know John even sang. The crowd on the dance floor are also intrigued and stop in their tracks to observe the situation.

“I, uh, didn’t really prepare for this.” John gives a half smile and a dry laugh, rubbing the back of his neck out of nervousness. You smile in confusion, eyes narrowing at him.

“John?”

“My love, I’ve known you for what seems like forever. I like to think that the moment I met you that fateful day, my life had started anew. Our dynamic, how we learn from one another, how we lean on each other through the thick and the thin. In a relationship, people assume that you have to give 50/50 but we’re smarter than that. Some days I can give only 25% but you carry me on for the both of us. Other days you can only give me 25% and I give you what each other needs. Sometimes we forget who we are to other people because we see each other for who we are.” You swallow harshly as John makes his way to where you are in the middle of the dance floor. The people surrounding you two had since made a circle around you two and begin to whisper to one another.

“That’s the beauty of love. The layers of love are complex and what we have goes beyond that. Love is a journey, not a destination, and I want to be with you throughout this ride. So-”

You feel your heart racing to an abnormal heart rate. You clasp your hand over your mouth while you watch John drop down to one knee, place the microphone next to him, and pull out a velvet black box.

“Will you marry me?”

Tears stream down from your eyes with a wild mix of emotions. Everyone around you gasps and erupts in a thunderous applause. You nod excitedly, making the audience clap and cheer even louder. John comes in for a hug and lifts you off your feet. As he spins you around, he whispers into your ear.

“Well, will you at least be my girlfriend?”

You snort and let out a chuckle.

“Yes, a thousand times yes,” you reply to him as he drops you gently to your feet. Without hesitation, you bring John to your lips and kiss him like you craved this feeling for centuries. You hear an obnoxiously loud gasp from somewhere and you know exactly who it is. You stick your middle finger in the air to tell your cousin to shove off and that you have the high ground now. You hear stomps of heels click off with a sound of agonizing groans following behind.

You don’t dare open your eyes from this moment to observe whatever dumb reaction your cousin had caused. Nothing matters now. What matters is you, John, and you two kissing under these twinkling lights.

#angel writes #john wick x reader #john wick #john x reader #john wick imagine #john wick imagines #keanu reeves x reader #keanu x reader #keanu reeves #💖 QUEEN OF ROMANCE Y'ALL 💖

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theonlygardener · 5 years

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I told my counselor yesterday about how angry I am at you sometimes. How angry I am that you just... get away with everything. How angry I am that when I finally stood up for myself and told you to get out and wanted you just gone finally, you refused. Despite that you have the ability, the opportunity, the money, the support. Despite that I’m disabled and literally unable to go anywhere. Angry about the fact that you had the nerve to tell me to leave under those conditions.

Angry about what you probably tell yourself and others so that you can sleep at night, that you probably leave out the drug use, you probably leave out the fact that you already had one foot into another relationship before even working up the balls to tell me you didn’t want to be with me. That in fact you never worked up the balls, you tried to keep me strung along as far as you could, and you made me make the hard choices you were too willfully weak to make, You probably leave out the fact that you hit me square enough and hard enough to give me a concussion and make me spin around and hit the ground. That you hit me hard enough that my ears were still ringing and I was still getting headaches for a week and a half afterward, if not longer, because it turns out I could have had MS the whole time you were making me feel like shit for being chronically ill, and who knows what damage is where. You probably leave out the fact that it took three people thirty minutes to find my glasses after you hit me. So that you can sleep at night. And so that you feel valid in targeting that new girl you started on before you even gave me a chance to catch my breath and wake the fuck up from the nightmare of loving you.

I told her how angry it makes me sometimes. That the people who raised you and that you ran to and that now surround you reinforce this worldview. And that the whole time they were abusing you, and me by association whenever I chose to be around them, finally got into your head and convinced you that I was an enemy. Not christian enough. Not straight enough. Not abled enough. Not monoamorous enough. Because now it serves you to believe them, now it gives you the advantage of getting away with all of it. It makes me angry that 6 years of loving you full stop still wasn’t enough to even make you think for like half of a second that maybe turning into your worst influences in life wasn’t good for either of us, but especially you.

Because when I told her how angry I get sometimes, she pointed out a thing which I often remind myself of - that you’re not gonna live a happy life. And she’s right. You hate yourself so much for your own disability that it stained me. It stained me with blood and near starvation. You have a miserable conservative abusive wanna be white trash family. You have a miserable boring useless capitalistic $14 an hr job that introduced you to drugs. And you’re going to get into miserable relationships where neither you nor your partners can be themselves, targeting them at work like you targeted me, because being forced to be around someone for eight hours is somehow relationship material, and you’ll hate each other for it. Because that’s not who I was and you “couldn’t handle it”. What you can handle, is a pis poor miserable excuse for life. And I told my counselor I know this logically, but I still feel angry sometimes. And she said that was valid.

I had a dream last night, dreamlike in it’s silliness. But we were in the same home again, idk if we were together though I hope not because that’s not what I want. And we were doing the same activities separately, and I passed by you unexpectedly and you said “wait why don’t you come do that with me? Together?”. And the conversation we had was much like the ones we had shortly before you told me about the girl you’re targeting now, it was much like “well I don’t trust you and it takes time to build that trust”, because, as much as I laugh to keep from crying now, even right up until the end I forced myself to try to trust you by any measure, when you asked. I would literally shake uncontrollably, and cry, and feel like screaming and disappearing and not feeling anything anymore, anytime I got into the car with you. I haven’t felt that since the last time I was severely abused. I don’t even experience that anymore with my mom, my first abuser. You hurt me a lot and I let it keep coming, and I let you convince me to think I just needed to let you in again and again, by degrees, repeatedly. And everytime, you let me down. And in this dream I told you that you just hurt me too much and I didn’t trust you. I let it all go and I said I did everything I possibly could and tried my hardest to be what we needed to keep our relationship, I did everything you didn’t do. And you said “I’m sorry, I just didn’t think I could handle it”.

I woke up. I know the implication. You didn’t think you could handle my being disabled and queer.

And I felt.... sad but release. Because buddy, it’s not just a matter of me not trusting you, I don’t love you anymore. There’s nothing lost on my end if there’s nothing to be gained. Because there’s no rebuilding of anything. That’s something you lost, lost lost, that is gone forever and there’s no recuperating it at all ever. You don’t get anymore chances. I don’t ever want to know you or be close to you again. You’re disease, no one wants that, when they find out who you really are. You’re the bubonic plague and aids of trauma rolled into one life altering package.

And the fact that you think you couldn’t handle me, couldn’t handle my disability or queerness. That’s..... sad. Unfortunate and pathetic. And it’s your problem of a misconception. Not mine. Not anymore. Because if you can’t handle the human and honest and fragile sides of me then you can’t handle your own. I mean. That’s no surprise to me, I was with you for 6 years. I’ve seen the fact that you can’t handle yourself with my own eyes. I watched your parents drill into you again and again a lack of awareness and compassion. But you still don’t and probably never will see that how you treated me was such a mirror. The fact that you just think that’s how it is and that you just weren’t capable - like it’s the reason you abused me rather than an excuse, like you just weren’t capable of anything but abuse. Pathetic.

And it doesn’t deviate from your pattern either, because you loved to blame your autism and trained me to parrot you and blame your autism too. When the fact is that I’m autistic too, so are many of my friends, and I’ve always been apparently more “capable” of the care that your “weren’t”. Even when you told me that the only thing stopping you from approaching your new target was autism (ouch), the first thing I did was tell you that that’s not a good enough reason because if someone turns you down for that then you deserve better anyways. The second thing I did was to realize that you just didn’t love me anymore and were replacing me, and lying about it. Finally, realizing that, still came second to supporting you. And you just are not good enough for me, put simply, to not be as caring as I am. And my friends have been very supportive, and given me the time of day and let me find strength in them the way you did maybe three times throughout 6 years. We’re not that different in disability than you. But we’re very different in how we love. And you’re not. good. enough. for. me. And not because you’re autistic, though I’m sure you love to blame that and probably even straight faced lie and tell people that’s why we’re not together anymore, because not loving you for something like that would be immense self-hate. But, oh, wait, that’s what you do. So you should know that.

You said as much when I finally left, you said you became resentful, hurtful (abusive), and replaced me because I “needed too much” (am disabled). You made that conclusion yourself because you were so intent on being innocent. But your disability excuses your abuse according to you, according to you none of the support I gave you was worth shit. You ended up treating me the way your abusers treated both of us, and that’s who you are and who you’ve always been and probably who you’ll always be. It just took one too many marks against me for you to finally show it openly. Pathetic.

I’m not christian, not at all, and not enough for you. But I pray for your drug addiction and the self-hate that will make your life the same hell you made mine. I’m just not praying to your god, or possibly a god at all. And only once. Because the rest of my energy from now on is going to me. Just enough to rub salt in the wound of the karma you’re making for yourself, and to continue to be the better person you parade as with your weekly church attendance, but aren’t really.

You’ve never been worthy of my love. You’re not worth my time. I’m starting to think you’re not worth my anger.

#abuse tw #physical abuse tw #trauma #drugs tw

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