#chase goehring

[13justbeingme]

Openers for Tour

My guesses for people that could be eligible to open for Taylor on her Reputation Tour are:

Grace VanderWaal

Chase Goehring

Sabrina Carpenter

Jordan Fisher

Reblog if you agree!! @taylorswift @taylornation

[toms-babygirl]

What is Love?

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Rating: PG-13, implied sex

A/N: I’ve recently fallen in love with Chase Goehring about in a day and a half (if you don’t know who he is, he’s on AGT this season and I think he was on The Voice a couple years ago but I would look him up) so this imagine is based off of his song What is Love because it’s one of my favs right now. i love him but i also love tom so :)

You ran out of the room screaming. You didn’t care about the many neighbors probably sleeping behind the line of doors in the hallway as you marched straight past them and to the elevator lobby. And you watched as the digital screen above the sliding doors changed from Level Two, Level Three. 

Two more levels to go, you thought, but it just wasn’t fast enough so you pushed the stairway door open. You ran out into the cool London night, feeling the last of summer whisper past your skin and through your hair, blowing it back. In your tight red night-dress and you four-inch heels, you made your way past the nice garden the apartment buildings had out front and crossed the always-busy streets with the light of car’s headlights guiding your path. You were so, so glad that it was dark, otherwise people would have looked at you funny for having wet mascara and eyeliner streaming down your cheeks. 

You didn’t look up but you knew where you were. You knew where you were going. You knew the path from his apartment to your best friend’s like the back of your hand, you could do it with your eyes closed. Your calves were burning from the height your heels were at and that black dress, so sexy before, now was constraining, and causing you to gasp for air, or was that just from the crying? You opened the door to The Broadway and felt happiness from somewhere tug at your lips because it was ironic how he lived in some place called The Broadway.

He left for Canada to shoot a movie only a few months ago and as far as you knew, based off a couple of texts you two had shared, he was still out of town. You kept that devastating thought at the front of your mind, this time letting the elevator slowly take you up the five stories where his apartment was, only this time it went fast along the cords.

Since when did you remember this elevator going fast?

But you stepped out when it dinged, no one getting off or getting on. It was late, everyone was probably asleep or cuddled up, watching a cute movie with their loved ones and you would do anything to do that with him right now. You went to his door, reading the engraved numbers on wood over and over again, biting your lip until you decided to knock, praying to a god you didn’t believe in that he was home.

It took a second sharp kock but you heard some rustling from the other side and you finally let go of a breath you didn’t know you were holding. There he was, clad in a white t-shirt and flannel pajama bottoms, rubbing an eye with the back of his hand. Fresh tears rolled hot down your cheeks.

“Hel- Y/N?” he said your name when the blur of sleep faded from his vision and stared at you with wide eyes.

But only for a second because if seeing him wasn’t enough relief for you, hearing him say your name was and you immediately wrapped your arms around his neck. Soon, you felt his big hands at the small of your back but not yet his chin on your shoulder like he usually does.

“Tom,” you whispered.

You clung to the fabric of his shirt as hard as you could, your knuckles turning white, not wanting to let him go. And he just stood there, letting you cry a stain onto his shirt, in silence because he knew that was all you could handle right now.

Plus, he didn’t exactly knew how to handle a crying girl. He could handle his little brother, and even his crying fans, but they were mostly crying out of happiness. This was something real.

And even though you knew he felt awkward on the inside, he didn’t express it. his hugs were the best you ever had, even better than your dad’s and that was saying a lot. His big, strong arms brought you closer to his warmth which made you wonder why boys were complete furnaces almost all the time, and he was hard from all the workouts he’s done but still soft enough to get comfortable.

You could just stay in his arms for hours and it seemed close to one before he slightly pushed you away.  You felt him search your face with his eyes as you had your head down, looking at the nasty gray carpet on the floor. “You wanna come inside?” he said with his voice still raspy and thick with London native.

You nodded your head and gestured you inside, still sniffling because crying had made your nose stuffy. He closed the door and walked past you to the kitchen. “Want something to drink?” he asked, suddenly from behind the bar. You stumbled onto one of the bar stools and nodded. 

“Water, please,” you barely said above a whisper, just now finding how hoarse your voice was. You cleared your throat. He grabbed a glass out of the cupboard and filled it up from the fridge, placing it on the bar in front of you. You took a timid sip.

He smiled and watched as you put the glass down so carefully it didn’t make a noise. “Take your heels off. Those are probably suuuper uncomfortable.”

You giggled a little. “They are.” You reached down to undo the strap and kick them off somewhere near the couch. And you tried wiping the black under your eyes, using your tears as some sort of a makeup remover. But you were obviously failing because next thing you knew, Tom leaned across the bar, coming close to your face, and started rubbing it away with the hem of his shirt. It left yet another stain on the bottom of the white fabric, this time black.

You sniffed. “You know that probably won’t come off.” You kept staring at your makeup on his shirt.

“Ehh,” he looked at it with a tilted expression. “I don’t care.”

You smiled and took a deep breath, scared to realize it was more shaky than you wanted it to be.

You kept your focus on the floor rather than Tom until his voice urged you to look at him again.

“What happened this time?" 

Your lips stretched as if into another smile,  but it was feigned. This time. Your brain circled around these words for a bit. Judging by the tone of his voice, he knew it was Jack that had done something to you. And the phrase, ‘this time,’ made you scared of how many times has it been? How many times has that shaved-around-the-edges dickface made you run back into your best friend’s apartment? How many times has it come to this?

How many times were you gonna keep thinking that the relationship you were in… was love?

Your parents got divorced when you were at the ripe young age of just figuring out what the 'L’ word actually was, which meant you didn’t know what it was. Your sister’s boyfriend hadn’t treated her right in high school and you had wondered why she stayed with him but now you wondered why you stayed with Jack. He didn’t beat you or harass you, but having him tear your heart apart again and again made you want to stop living.

No. Wait. He did harass you… once, when he was drunk.

You looked up to Tom who went about washing the dishes he probably dirtied up when he had dinner and you guess by the amount of plates he was washing, Haz had joined him. 

"What is love?” you asked out of random. Out of character too because you knew this wasn’t a thing you would ask not even when you were drunk.

“What is love?” Tom repeated, turning back around but avoiding eye contact. He braced his now-wet hands on the bar. He laughed almost too loud but you still smiled upon hearing it. “Now that’s a loaded question, isn’t it?”

You inhaled and exhaled, still a bit shaky but all in one movement and looked at your best friend with the sincerest expression. “That’s why I asked you.” You said, mouth in a straight line.

Tom’s eyes jumped all over your figure as you leaned over the bar, your arm laying against the cool, granite top. “Why?” he breathed.

“Because you have a big family,” you almost laughed with him, playing the question off as a joke. But you didn’t want it to be a joke. “You have a lot of friends and you’re an actor, you have to pretend to be in love all the time.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m in lo-” Tom was slowly rounding the bar toward you. “Please, you’re a method actor. You said so when you wanted a sex scene in Spider-Man.”

“I kinda said that sarcastically.”

“I’ve seen the way you work.” Even though you were sitting on a high barstool, you stood up straighter to meet his height when he came close to you, almost like you were challenging him. It was your turn to search his eyes with yours and you only had to back off the chair when you realized you coud see yourself in the brown of his eyes.

You turned away.

He invited you on the set of Spider-Man. You saw the way he looked at Liz, how only his eyes told the audience everything; how he wanted to give her the world, the moon, and the stars. And you weren’t jealous of Laura, you were jealous of how beautifully he could pretend to be in love while you didn’t even know what it was. 

“Y/N,” he murmured and you jumped at how close his voice was. “How do you feel when you’re with Jack?”

You slowly turned toward him again, arms tightly bound across your chest. “Um, I don’t know,” you started. His eyes bored into yours. “Scared, I guess?”

“Scared?” He was suddenly worried and they way his voice leaked with concern made made your heart numb.

You quickly shook your head. Obviously that wasn’t the right feeling, right? You wouldn’t be with him if you felt scared. “I feel…. like I don’t want my heart to get broken this time. And the way he says sorry, tries to fix everything, I feel guilty, and give him another chance. I ask myself: if it happens again, it won’t hurt as bad because I’ve already been through it. But it hurts worse.” Your voice starts to break and oh no, here comes the tears again. “And I can’t say no and I can’t….” By this point, your voice had completely cracked and Tom gathered you up in his arms again and whispering that it was okay. It was okay to cry in front of him. 

He waited until your sobbing had quieted down until he rested his chin atop your head. “And how do I make you feel?”

You widened your eyes at that but kept your position in his arms because you liked the way his hands rubbed your back. Then you closed your eyes as if to help look inside yourself for what you really felt in this moment, in Tom’s arms.

“Safe.” Like you could protect me. (You had to give a little thanks to his trainer.)

“Secure.”

You’re even warming my heart.

“Li-” “I love you.”

You didn’t say that.

You pulled yourself away. “What?”

His eyes were as big as saucers.

Suddenly, you felt your brow furrow and you became angry. “Did you just say you love me? Even though I just asked what it was? You can’t just say it like that and expect me understand. You have to explain it. Explain it, Tom, explain it!”

He cut you off by pressing his lips onto yours in more than just a gentle kiss which backed both of you up to the back of the couch, which you had to brace your hand on it for support. He pulled away but only enough that your arm around his neck would allow. “I’m sorr-,” he murmured, panting for air.

“No. Please explain it more.” You breathed because you were so fucking turned on right now. And your lips crashed once more.

Silence was between you except the sounds of pen-mouthed kissing and heavy breathing as you were pushed furthermore onto the couch, almost doing a back bend.

“I’m gonna show you how much I love you, baby,” he whispered, whipping you around from the couch.

He called you baby.

He picked you up under the knees and carried you to the bedroom, setting you down on the white duvet in his room. You exhaled as he crawled over top of you, locking your arm above your head with one hand while the other traveled down your curves First, he kissed your mouth again. Then he took his sweet time around your jawline, and eventually finding his way down to your neck with the help of you lifting up your chin. Your little moans helped him find the sweet spot where your neck met your shoulder and you sighed when he started to suck. He was gonna leave hickies.

But you didn’t care because you wanted everyone to know that you were his and you wondered: was that love? Did you want the world to know that you were his because you loved him?

Before he could go down any further, you flipped yourselves over so that you were on top, straddling his waist and his hands somehow re-positioned themselves on your hips. You reached to the back of your dress in search of the zipper but you couldn’t find it. You couldn’t reach that high.

“Can you?” you asked, laughing. He laughed too.

“Oh -oh, yeah of course,” He said and brought his hands up to the top band of your dress, unzipping the zipper all the way down until you shrugged out of it. The hooks of your bra were low enough so could picnch together and release. Showing your breasts to your best friend didn’t feel awkward at all. You didn’t shy away from him or try to cover your nipples. It felt right. This felt right. You wondered: was this love?

You threw your dress and bra to the side. He had been staring at you enough, with those big brown eyes and hands immediate back on your hips, wanting you to make the first move that you decided to leave the question be for now and just enjoy the moment. You smiled as you leaned in to kiss him.

In the morning, you woke up wearing his t-shirt and nothing else. You were snuggled under the covers with Tom’s arm draped loosely around your middle and you couldn’t think of a happier sight than seeing your best friend flutter his eyes open inches away from your face.

“Good morning,” you murmured.

“It’s okay if you didn’t say 'I love you’ back.” He whispered suddenly, looking at you with the biggest eyes.

“What?” You lifted your head from the pillow slightly. 

“I know it will be a long time before that happens,” he smiled.

“But wasn’t that…-?”

He laughed. “No, love. That wasn’t it. Well, I mean, it’s part of it. But you still have a lot to learn about love.”

He closed his eyes as if ready to fall back asleep again.

“If I can learn it with you, it’ll all be worth it,” You said, kissing his forehead and causing him to open his eyes again.

“I’d love that.”

“Are we just saying love as much as we can now?” You burst out laughing and he did the same.

“I guess so, love.”

There was a brief pause. “I have to go break up with Jack.” You said it so matter-of-factly, like it didn’t phase you at all.

“Do you want me to come with?” Tom offered, watching you slip on his pajama bottoms from last night.

“No.” You looked back at him. “I have to do this on my own.” You walked to the door of his room, loving the smell and the fit of Tom’s clothing on you as you realized you could do this. You could finally do this. Last night gave you a sense of what real love looked like, what it felt like and with Tom, you knew that the journey of figuring it out was going to be the biggest ride of your life and you couldn’t wait to get it started.

[anxietypower]

everyone who supports chase needs to write me an essay on how they can think he isn’t garbage considering his songs have been all about how he knows whats best for a girl that he likes and that he recognizes that she is in an abusive relationship and instead of just being a supportive friend, his magic cure is that she should be dating HIM instead. his focus on a girl being in an abusive relationship is not her wellbeing, its the fact that he wants to date her. 

 12 pt double spaced due monday

[nbcagt]

THIS. IS. IT.

[anxxiiety]

🌸 I was living in an illusion, blinded by love 🌸

[fellowhuman-being]

The girls also give the same message. I cried listening to this 😭

[poet-ographer]

Chase Goehring has gotten extremely popular since he appeared on America's Got Talent! I have to say, he's a very great songwriter. This is my favorite song of his so far.

[nbcagt]

His music has got us spinning.