Ok but I'm upset It's not an option for Niall to get on stage with all the Eagles. :((((( he'd sob
it is!! (i mean minus glenn frey, of course.) i know how frustrating it can be when ur fav doesn’t seem to have the opportunities that someone else’s does but i think it’s more of a not yet than a never. u know, most people work their whole lives to get to a point where their favorite artist wants to duet with them. i was thinking about that time bruce was asked to sing with mick and george harrison at a rock n roll hall of fame induction, and when he starts wondering how he got there, he goes:
“Look at it like this: In 1964, millions of kids saw the Stones and the Beatles and decided, ‘That looks like fun.’ Some of them went out and bought instruments. Some of them learned to play a little. Somegot good enough to maybe join a local band. Some might have even made a demo tape. Some might have lucked out and gotten a record deal of some sort. A few of those might have sold some records and done some touring. A few of those might have had a small hit, a short career in music, and managed to eke out a modest living. A very few of those might have managed to make a life as a musician, and a very, very few might have had some continuing success that brought them fame, fortune and deep gratification, and tonight, one of those ended up standing between Mick Jagger and George Harrison, a Stone and a Beatle. I did not fool myself about what the odds were back in 1964 that that one would’ve been the acne-faced fifteen-year-old kid with the cheap Kent guitar from Freehold, New Jersey. My parents were RIGHT! My chances were ONE, ONE in a MILLION, in MANY MILLIONS. But still . . . here I was. I knew my talents and I knew I worked hard, but THESE, THESE WERE THE GODS, and I was, well . . . one hardworking guitar man.”
i think this scene highlights something i was having a hard time articulating, which is about that distance between playing with the greats and being one of them. for whatever reason, there’s a certain tendency to treat harry as though he has a spot in the history of rock n roll reserved for him, but i don’t think that’s quite the case. even bruce springsteen is here going they’re the legends, not me! it’s not just that he’s being humble, i don’t think, it’s that there’s more to being one of them than their own sustained success over many years; it’s the legacy they bring to the music, and maybe more specifically their ability to inspire others in the hopes of being that one in many millions. there’s so much more to dreaming of being one of the Eagles than either the people or the music, really.
not to say i don’t think harry or niall or geez, for all i know, the chainsmokers (though we can hope not) can’t have their day; but that if they’re playing with one of the greats now, it’s out of love and admiration, and not necessarily because they are one. that takes dedication and commitment and also time.
so to get back to what u said, the short answer is: me too!! but this is literally just the start of what will hopefully endure into very long, very happy careers. waiting sucks, but try to have patience. there’s a long way to go yet .
“Just had a friend i haven’t seen in 20 years pull over as i was getting my mail and said hey Lando , blah blah blah …Do you know anyone that wants an old Kent guitar? Hellz Yeaaz. ..I owe him 150 bux .If anyone has any info about where i can get a pickguard and also the spring and bar for the Tremelo bar it would grately be appreciated .Thanks . PS. Anyone know how to date these things ? “ - Landon Jackson
Season 5: RC/KB tell each other about losing their virginity. Doesn’t have to be smutty. ;) prompted by @her-pegship.
“How old were you?”
She’s balanced on that precarious cliff between dreams and reality, sweat still drying on her overheated skin. He’s worn her out, made her body writhe and jerk with pleasure, her voice moan and chant his name and, now, when they should both be sleeping in preparation for her return to the 12th Precinct after serving out her suspension, he wants to talk.
Sure, she could scowl at him, refuse to answer and insist that they both get some rest, but she doesn’t. As curious as she is amused, Kate cracks open one eye, glancing at her boyfriend and that self-satisfied smile of his. “What?”
The shiver that rolls across her flesh has nothing to do with the cold air that begins to filter through the vent above her bed and everything to do with the two fingers that slide along the path of her abdomen, skirting around her belly button and then dipping just a bit lower. It’s meant to be a tease, one designed to get her attention with the promise that the sureness of his touch holds.
She hates that her bottom lip has already found its way between her teeth, that her body is responding to something so simple, but she also loves that it’s this satisfying and this easy.
It has been anything but with anyone else that she’s ever allowed into her bed.
“I was wondering,” Rick speaks up again, spreading his entire hand across her torso, back up across her abs until he pauses just below her breasts. “How old you were when you lost your virginity.”
Kate opens her eyes again at that, her heart tripping in its steady rhythm at the sheepish look he’s giving her. With his hair tousled from her fingers and his lips still swollen from her kisses, he looks like that teenage boy that her mother always warned her about; the one with the roguish good looks and endless charm who wanted to get into her pants and not much more.
In fact, it had been exactly that sort of boy that had convinced her to give it up. A boy with shaggy hair, a beat-up leather jacket, his own motorcycle, and a desire to be the next Kurt Cobain - without the depression and heroin addiction.
And, true to form, he hadn’t wanted much more than sex in the end.
Castle, she knew, wanted everything she was willing to give, which was why she didn’t mind the way he would prompt her with questions to pull out a story from her life before he was taking up so much of it.
He just wanted to know her, all of her, even the parts that she tried her best to keep locked away.
Bitty switched his phone back on as soon as the plane landed in Boston. He had a bunch of text messages, six Twitter notifications, and one Snapchat. He opened the snap first, smiling softly. It was Kent, curled up in bed with Señor Bun. He was shirtless and he’d turned his face just so to hide his bloody eye, and he still looked tired, but he was beautiful all the same. Across the bottom of the picture he’d written I miss you already.
Smiling softly, Bitty sent a quick snap back, writing I miss you, too along the top. He checked Twitter, frowning when he saw activity on Kent’s account. He was supposed to be resting!