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#added some that might stretch you in terms of genre/form!
librarycards · 2 months
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if you're still doing book recs :3
camp concentration by thomas disch
an exchange of hostages by susan r. matthews
junglist by 2 fingas & james t. kirk
noopiming by leanne betasamosake simpson
exquisite corpse by poppy z. brite
ooh a couple more new-to-me books and overall very fucked up [affectionate] taste, love it!
recs:
Davey Davis, X.
Kim Hyesoon, A Drink of Red Mirror
Gretchen Felker-Martin, Manhunt.
John Singleton, Angel Blood
Tanya Tagaq, Split Tooth
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onlyswan · 3 years
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meet me behind the mall | jjk
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→ pairing: jungkook x f!reader
→ genre: smut sigh, fluff kinda
→ warnings: exhibitionism, public sex, dirty talk, slight ? degredation, calls her a slut once, fingering, handjob, oral (m. and f. receiving), choking, spitting, cum eating / swallowing, unprotected sex, facial (this term is so 😭) lmk if i miss anything plz
→ word count: 3.3k
summary: jungkook makes you live for the thrill of it all.
note: this was an impulsive write idk what possessed me today frends but have at it >_> semi proofread it’s 5am goodbyr
it’s one of the things you first learned about him. jungkook loves taking photos. he loves capturing moments with a simple click of a camera. he finds an unexplainable comfort and bittersweet nostalgia in finding old photographs in his drawer, in his pockets, tucked in between the pages of his textbooks. it’s like finding little treasures all over the place, you can hear his voice in your head, can see the pretty twinkles of passion and fondness in his pretty doe eyes.
so when he told you all about the new photobooth at the arcade, followed by a text that simply said meet me behind the mall, you didn’t particularly imagine that you would end up in this position. you can see the shutter going off even though your eyelids are closed as jungkook’s tongue is basically shoved down your throat. your panties is pulled to the side and two of his fingers are thrusting in and out of your cunt, curling deliciously to stimulate your sweet spot that has your thighs shaking uncontrollably every fucking time.
how naive of you to think that your boyfriend spontaneously texted you at eight in the evening to meet up and simply take cute couple pictures in film. of course, you do have a fair share of scandalous photos, but they’re all conveniently stored and locked away in your phones. this is something entirely new and as embarrassing it is to admit, thrilling. yourself from one year ago never would’ve guessed what her future self is doing right now. how the desires in you can easily be fueled to life just by the trailing of jungkook’s fingers on the smoothness of your thighs, his lips nipping at your neck, or even the simple thought of having his cock filling you up to the brim.
you can’t help but to giggle against his mouth. all of your senses are heightened at this moment, your heart beating aggressively in your chest. he pulls away slightly but his gaze stays on your pink and swollen parted lips, drunk eyes taking in your disheveled state.
“what’s going in that pretty little mind of yours?” he smirks, thumb sneakily rubbing your clit. you try your best to hold out your moan but a broken whine comes out, your head throwing back against the wall of the limited space you’re both squeezed into. only a black curtain and an ‘occupied’ sign in red bold and capital letters separated you from the world outside, where games are being played by people of all ages; loud sound effects and songs from the 2000’s and 2010’s mixing into an ear numbing noise that can only be recognized from an arcade center; and tickets gathered are being exchanged for cute stationary items and trinkets.
“you’re so, so dirty.” you say to him, eyes rolling back as his fingers never let up on their toe curling pace, only making you lose your inhibitions and self-control more than anything else. you clench around them involuntarily, drenching his hand with your juices. “was this your plan all along?”
your eyes widen in shock when the sound of his palm slapping your bare cunt filled the booth, the stinging pain registering in your mind next. “are you fucking crazy? someone might hear!” you whisper angrily at him, but his dark and blown out eyes made you shrink back in your seat. his intimidating, and almost condescending, expression have you gushing against his hand that is now petting your pussy to soothe the pain he inflicted.
“watch your mouth. you and this fucking skimpy dress are the only ones dirty here. you know what this shit does to me.” he smiles at you sweetly. “are you sure this was my plan? are we playing mind games here, baby girl?” his hand comes down from your face to play with the cloth of your blue dress, the other thrusting two of his fingers in you again, then adding another. the stretch has you gripping tightly on his shirt, not having anything else to hold on to.
“fuck, ahhh- jungkook. don’t stop.” god, you are dripping all over, your wetness staining your seat. it makes your cheeks flush in shame.
“just wanted to look pretty for you, i-is all.” you mewl at him, blinking innocently. the camera is not forgotten by jungkook. in fact, it’s one of the things getting him more riled up. the almost blinding light of the flash shines on your soft skin, and the sweat that has formed on your temples and your neck. your pupils are blown and eyelids drooping caused by the pleasure he is giving you. it’s visible how difficult it is for you to keep in all your noises from the people outside the damn curtain when you’re so lost in the feeling of his fingers inside of you. all because of him. your fucked out state got jungkook gritting his teeth, his dick twitching inside his pants. jesus christ, you get him so fucking turned on and desperate for it without even trying. your beauty is seductive and enchanting and effortless. there is no point in hiding how crazy he is for you.
“my pretty girl. you dressed yourself all nice for me?” he presses a chaste kiss on your lips, before he wraps his hand around your throat, pressing at the right places just enough to make your mind all fuzzy. “i’m such a lucky man. i love you so much.”
your eyes roll back at the back of your head at the all consuming feeling taking over senses. you don’t think you can answer correctly if ever someone asks for your name or the colors of the goddamn traffic signs. “y-yeah, for you, of course. love you so much.”
he gives you a satisfied hum, moving down to squeeze one of your breasts with his large hand before pinching your nipple from outside the cotton of your dress. “mhmm, holy fuck. you’re always so sensitive. so easy to please. am i making you feel good?” you don’t know how he can act so casual while you’re basically falling apart in his hands, but for some sick reason, it stirs up the arousal in your belly even more.
“y-yes, kook, i’m so close, please, please, please,” you cry out desperately, tears forming at the corner of your eyes as you squeeze his fingers with your walls uncontrollably. “wait, ohhh, stop. stop. i can’t cum here. i- it’s gonna be a mess, this is so embar- fuck, jungkook!” your squeal dies down in your throat when your boyfriend kneels on the ground and starts sucking your clit in his mouth as his fingers inside of you became more aggressive, hitting all the right places that makes you see stars behind your eyelids. you cover your mouth with your hand to muffle your desperate and whiny sounds, suddenly becoming aware of where the two of you are right now.
you grip his hair with your hands to steady yourself and unconsciously grind your cunt against his face, his eager tongue doing very sinful things for the sole purpose of making you come undone. he pulls you closer to the edge with his strong arm so he can have better access, eating you out like a man feasting on the divine food of the gods. divine. that’s one perfect word to describe you.
he flicks your clit teasingly before wrapping his pink and plump lips around it again. the overwhelming sight almost makes you want to burst into tears. “hmm, cum for me, baby.” your body jerks in his hold, his words of permission acting as the trigger for your orgasm. he drinks you up greedily, his tongue replacing his fingers’ place in fucking into you, letting you ride out your high.
he comes up to kiss you, making you taste yourself in his mouth. you can even feel his wet chin. you moan against him when two fingers dip inside you again, and then he’s having you suck on them almost too enthusiastically. you’re still in a daze from your release, and with jungkook, you’re basically down for anything and everything. you open your eyes to meet his, and if you aren’t already fucked out with his fingers choking you, his hooded eyes will have reduced you into a blabbering mess.
“you’re always so good to me.” he says with a raspy voice. he takes out his fingers and wipes it on his shirt before pulling you in for another kiss. “let’s get out of here so i can fuck you properly like my girl deserves, okay?” you nod meekly, trying to hide your excitement. he fixes you up to make you look presentable enough to walk in public, combing your hair with his fingers and straightening out your dress.
“can’t forget these. don’t want anyone else seeing you like this. it’s for my eyes only.” he gathers all the developed films from the booth, facing you with a teasing smile.
“for your eyes only.” you agree, looking up at him. you open the small backpack you brought along with you and he stuffs them all inside mindlessly, his cock still straining painfully in his pants and he might just lose his mind if he’s still not inside of your pussy in the next five minutes.
“can’t walk properly,” you whine out once you step out of the booth, your boyfriend supporting you by the waist.
“sorry, baby.” he presses an apologetic kiss on your temple. “but i’m not done with you yet.” he really doesn’t give a fuck if anyone heard the both of you at all, but he knows that you’re starting to worry, so he makes sure that you keep your eyes on him as you walk your way out of the place.
“are we going to your place? or mine?” you ask once you get out, the cool air of the mall embracing you. you shiver lightly. your boyfriend doesn’t respond, but when he starts dragging you towards the movie theater that is just beside the arcade, you realize the answer to your question.
“jungkook, really?” you hiss at him, but don’t make any efforts to stop him as he leads you to the restrooms.
“i’m so fucking hard right now, babe. i can’t wait anymore.” they’re about to close up in an hour, so the place is basically deserted. but still, you can’t believe what you’re about to do right now. he peeks in the women’s and once he made sure it’s clear, you go in to the farthest cubicle.
“damn woman,” his throaty chuckle makes your center throb again as you immediately pull down his sweatpants along with his boxers, his big cock slapping against his stomach. you lick a stripe from his balls up to his tip, then gathering saliva in your mouth and letting it drip down his length. his breathing gets heavier at the sight of doing such a filthy action without him asking you to. he strokes your cheek as you jack him off and give his head kitten licks, your spit acting as an effective lube.
“put it in your mouth now, baby.” he says softly, grasping your hair to guide your mouth on his cock. “choke on it, yeah?” you hum in submission to his request, relaxing your throat to take in as much of him as you can. you start to bob your head up and down to get used to the feeling, your hand still wrapped around the few inches left.
“fuck, you look so pretty like this. i’ve been thinking about it all day.” his confession made you all warm inside. you’ve always wondered how you managed to become his girlfriend. sometimes, it feels to good to be true. knowing the effect you have on him even when you’re not around made you even more determined to blow his damn mind. to be the only star of his wildest dreams.
you go down on him until your nose reach his pubic area, carefully breathing out through it. “oh my god, that’s my girl.” he thrusts his hip forward and holds your head down in place, making you choke on him like he wanted to. his moans sends tingles to your pussy and you rub your thighs together in a pitiful attempt to relieve yourself of some pressure. he lets you breathe in some air before you take him in your mouth again, swallowing around his length as you move your head up and down.
“ohhh, fuck. your mouth is s-so warm. you like this huh? sucking me off outside our rooms for the first time?” he can’t help but to move his hips as well, instinctively following your mouth. your moans vibrate on his dick, and he hisses at the added sensation. “and you called me what? so, so dirty? turns out you’re just as fucking filthy, baby.” and there it is again, the mischievous smile on his face that makes your knees (that you’re sure will be bruising soon enough) weak. you know that he’s right. you can’t help but to whimper around him when you feel wetness drip from your hole. you want to touch yourself so bad but your hands on your boyfriend’s flexing muscular thighs are what’s keeping you steady and grounded.
“ohh- ah, fuck fuck fuck! are you fucking kidding me?” his body jerks when you take all of him and stay still, contracting your throat around him and massaging his balls in your small and soft hand. his brain goes on a frenzy at the waves of pleasure rippling in his body, sweat rolling down his temples and abdomen working hard to stop himself from cumming down your throat. “s-shit, stop it, stop it, stop, i’m gonna blow my load.”
you pull him out with a pop, hand gripping his base to keep his orgasm at bay. his glassy eyes meet your own, and you give him a wink. “are you gonna fuck me now?”
a shiver runs up jungkook’s spine. “you’re so fucking hot. come here.” he helps you get up and snakes his tongue in your mouth, pinning you on the other side of the cubicle. his hand sneaks in under your dress to cup your center, groaning against your mouth when he felt how wet you are. “shit, you’re soaking. did you get this turned on by sucking my dick?”
“really turned on. i love blowing you.” you twirl a strand of his hair around your finger, blinking up at him with a smile.
“you’re actually killing me here.” he chuckles, squeezing your ass and pulling you close to grind himself on you. he drags down your panties until you step out of them, throwing it on top of your backpack. he tucks your hair behind your ear and whispers. “jump.” you obey, wrapping your legs around his waist.
he pumps his cock a few times before teasingly running the tip along your wet folds, a nudge on your clif making you moan quietly. “put it in, please. jungkook? i’ve been good, right?”
“shhh, i got you.”
you hold on to his neck tightly as you let yourself succumb to the pleasure. it’s amazing how you can feel so stretched out from the very beginning, only his tip yet breaching your walls. you never really got used to it. “you’re so big, kook.” you cry out against his shoulder as he sinks his entire length into you. your praise inflates his ego. he lets you adjust for a moment, peppering kisses along your neck and shoulder.
when you gave him the signal, he begins thrusting into you, gradually picking up to a rough and unforgiving pace he knows you like. the lewd squelching sounds of your connected sex filled the empty room.
“sh-should’ve done this sooner. ahh fuck, why does this feel so good?” you’re out of your mind. you can’t remember a time you felt this horny. and to be brutally honest, he’s fucking you dumb right now. you can feel every ridge of his cock in you, can feel his tip furiously and consistently stimulating the spot in you that has you writhing in his arms, that along with his pelvis grinding against your clit each time he fucks back into you.
“jesus, are you hearing yourself right now? you like doing it outside with me, baby?”
“yes, yes! oh, harder, please. m-more, i’m close again.” you sob out, biting on his shoulder to cover your cries.
“can’t believe i got myself a filthy little slut here.” he shakes his head in mock disbelief, adjusting his hold on you and fucking you with a much fiercer drive to make you cream on his cock this time. “f-fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight.” he breathes out a laugh followed by a broken moan, your soft walls enveloping him in your wamth. “cum when you need to, hmm? you’ve been so good to me.”
you mutter countless thank you’s mixed with your moans and whimpers, the pleasure getting too much to bear. you throw your head back as you orgasm on your boyfriend’s cock, clenching around him uncontrollably as he fucks you through it, desperate to reach his own high. your juices drip down to his balls, and it makes him crazier. he takes the opportunity create marks on your neck, sucking and biting red and purple on your skin.
it’s not long before overstimulation takes place, but you don’t complain, not when it feels this good. another orgasm hits you, not as intense as the first two, but it still got you seeing stars and your body shaking against the wall.
“did you just cum again? oh god, fucking shit. i’m there- so fucking close. you feel so- oh, so good. love you. love you a lot.”
“i want to swallow your cum.” your voice is barely there, but jungkook hears you just fine. he almost chokes on his own spit upon registering your words in his brain. without wasting any time, he sets you down on the floor and you kneel infront of him, mouth open and tongue out.
he jacks himself off while you generously lick at his frenulum, looking up at him expectantly. the sight of you all eager and impatient for his cum finally triggers his release, aiming for your tongue but some still landing on your cheeks and chin as he’s too overwhelmed and shaken to see straight. you swallow happily, licking the rest from your fingers.
“god, i love you.” he says quietly, pulling you up from the floor and embracing you, but you wiggle out of his grasp.
“love you too but gross, gross, gross. i need to go home and shower.” you whine out, twirling as you try and fix your appearance again.
“not you acting like a brat once you got what you wanted.” he pinches your waist jokingly. he takes tissue from the dispenser to clean up the wetness that dripped down all the way to your thighs, being the loving boyfriend that he is.
“i don’t know what you’re talking about.” you pout at him. “i’m so tired and gross. i hate you.”
“are you asking for it again?”
“no, i swear to god. you owe me a bubble bath and a massage.”
“okay, fine. my place then.” he gives up, shaking his head with a laugh at your change of mood. “i love you. can i get a kiss then?”
you tiptoe to reach him, slightly pulling him down by the collar of his shirt to give him a smooch. “i love youuu.”
once you both make yourself presentable (again) to the best of your abilities, you head out of the restroom first. you notice the cashier at the popcorn place eyeing you suspiciously, especially when jungkook comes out to meet you a few minutes later. you hide yourself behind him in shame.
you walk out of the mall with his hand over your shoulder, yours on his waist. you look at him questioningly when he covers your neck with more of your hair. “maybe i made a little too much.” he winces apologetically.
“we are never doing that again.” you sigh, your legs still feeling weak but you will yourself to make it all the way to the parking lot.
“what? you said you liked it!”
“it was during the moment. i was delirious.”
jungkook rolls his eyes. “you’re lying. let’s see, because that’s also what you said the first time we tried choking.”
“jungkook! shut up!”
note: i never know how to finish these runs and hides
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hongnanglen-arina · 3 years
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The Ulzzang Project - Part 1 | Jeon Wonwoo
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Read part 2  
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Genre: Fluff, crack (maybe explicit content in the next chapters)
Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x female reader
Warnings: none
Words: 2.6k
A/N: Hello there! Here’s part 1 of my mini series of you and Wonwoo, the next ulzzang stars hahaha :3 I’d be happy to know your thoughts about it. I’m already working on part 2. I might spice it up in the upcoming chapters. If you don’t like that, scream at me and I will stop hehet. So, have fun! And as always, please remember that English isn’t my first language so excuse my grammar ♡
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You sat in Wonwoo’s apartment. It was one of those Saturday nights where you two would order greasy food, have competitive game sessions and cuddle together on his couch or in his huge bed. You’ve known each other ever since your mothers went to driving school together. Both got married to their significant other and soon you two were born, making them joke that you two should end up together when you get older. That didn’t happen obviously. Instead you grew up like siblings, spending nearly all of your free time together, fighting over stupid little things but always making up quickly after. Even studying together, entering the same university and sharing the same group of friends. You two were kind of inseparable. 
“Wait, why is the bucket of fried chicken already empty???” You shot a shocked look at the boy beside you who wasn’t paying attention to you but bobbed his head to the music of the band in the youtube video which was playing on his tv screen, licking his fingers clean to get another slice of pizza. Before taking a bite, he gave you a rather emotionless answer, his face dead ass serious. “Dunno. Maybe we ate it?”
You scoffed at his words. Oh Jeon Wonwoo.
More laughing, more jamming to music and more teasing until you were full, halfway lying on the floor while you talked about the new annoying professor at uni that scolded Dokyeom on his very first day and was on bad terms with him from that day on. 
After a while you cleaned up and started to play Dead or Alive to ‘relieve some stress’. You two had mastered this game for years now, resulting in you and Wonwoo winning and loosing the same amount of times. While you stick to one character, he switched to different ones but even though you two were always close, you would never grow tired of this game and those competitions with him. 
When he left for using the bathroom, you unlocked your phone and scrolled through Instagram, stopping at a specific post of a couple who uploaded a suggestive photo of them without revealing much of their person. You cocked your head to the side and Wonwoo noticed it when he came back. “What are you looking at, y/n?” He sat down beside you and you showed him your phone. “Look, they aren’t doing much and the photo has quite a bad quality - maybe on purpose - but it is still good that I understand why people push the like button. Effortless aesthetic.” 
Wonwoo made an annoyed grimace at your words and you raised an eyebrow. “What?” “Anyone can do that.” “Why do you think that?” Your best friend thought for a moment and pulled out his own phone, unlocking it and going through some apps until he held it in front of the two of you. Before you could ask what he was doing, he got closer to you and took a photo. You noticed that the room was silent. Only some faint noises from outside the window could be heard when he showed the photo to you. It was a photo of you two next to each other but other people wouldn’t recognize you two. The photo showed only your lips, chin, neck and a little bit of your shirt. You looked up at him and saw his grin. Wonwoo moved a little so that it seemed like he was going to kiss you. Slightly panicking, you automatically covered your face, asking him what the hell he was doing when you heard the shutter of his phone once again, signalizing that he took another photo.
The room was quiet when you removed your hands, a soft blush on your cheeks when he turned the screen, giving you a better look of the new photo. Wonwoo used a filter that gave your photo a nice vintage look. Blinking, you were kind of impressed. If you didn’t know better, you would say that it was a photo of a famous ulzzang couple from Instagram. Noticing Wonwoo’s pleased smirk, you hit his chest. “Yah, what was that all about, huh?? You can’t just-“ “I’m going to open a new account. I’m curious how many followers and likes we can get in a month.” 
You had a hard time to follow, squinting your eyes and opening your mouth like a fish without saying anything. He tapped on his phone happily, completely ignoring your confused state. “W-wait, what did you say? What do you mean? A new account? Followers? What?” You tried to have a better look on his screen but he turned around, chuckling a little so that his round glasses slid down the bridge of his nose a bit in the process. “Jeon Wonwoo! Answer!” 
Fighting you off his shoulders, he took his sweet time to do whatever he was doing on his phone and you whined, asking for answers but not getting one at all. Sighing, you gave up after a while, giving his broad back a death glare as you turned around and took your own phone, opening the previous app and pouting while scrolling through the already seen posts. You were facing the other direction, sitting back against back. Hearing Wonwoo chuckle from time to time or giving a thinking noise, he always got your attention but since he never explained what he was doing, you took some selfies, sticking out your tongue and pointing at the boy behind you. After editing it a little more, you uploaded it on your Instagram site with the single word ‘idiot’ and tagged him. Giggling to yourself, you didn’t notice the shuffling noises and the warmth behind you disappearing when Wonwoo literally shoved his phone in your face. Your groan got stuck in your throat when you finally got your answer.
Taking his phone out of his hand, you took a better look. It was a seemingly new Instagram account with one content, zero followers and zero following. Your eyes widen when you click on the only photo in this account. It was you two. The photo from before. You were covering your face while the photo was cut, only showing Wonwoo’s grin against your hands. Your eyes travel lower, silently reading through the hashtags he had added. #cutecouple #shy #ulzzangcouple #saturdaynight and 18 more. It didn’t take long until the first stranger liked your photo and you blinked in disbelief. That’s when you noticed the user icon. It was the sunflower you got Wonwoo when he moved into his apartment. The very first day. You remembered the moment when he stopped you in his door and took a photo of you. Although he cut it, you could still see your hands holding the flowers plus a part of your white dress from that day.
Another notification. Another 3 likes. You turned to Wonwoo, who was awaiting your opinion. Pointing at his phone and the still open app, you asked “Are you serious?” “Totally.” His short remark wasn’t convincing enough and the way Wonwoo continued talking showed you that he understood. “It’s like a little experiment. We take some photos together, upload it and wait. As I said, I’m curious how famous our little site can become. We can delete and close it after a month if you want.”
He watched your face patiently until you met his gaze. “Okay. Fine for me. But I have a question.”
“Go ahead.”
“Are we going to upload cute photos only or.. uhm… other photos also?”
“What do you mean with other photos?”
Oh Jeon Wonwoo don’t play dumb, you thought to yourself but lifted your arm, pulling your collar down a bit to reveal more of your neck and collarbone. “This.”
“Sexy?” Wonwoo smirked at you and you rolled your eyes, giving him a hard push so that he rolled onto his back, laughing at your reaction. 
You pouted and crossed your arms in front of your chest in an attempt to distract yourself from the blush on your face. You have seen it often enough. Accounts like that. And you would lie if you say you didn’t like them. Many of them showed their strongly edited faces but some didn’t show their faces at all and you guessed your site would be like the latter. If you are going to include more revealing or suggestive photos, you would care less if no one could see who it actually was. 
That’s how you agreed.
The whole night the two of you brainstormed. You collected ideas for your next photos and had lots of fun with it. Even lying in his bed together, giggling about the most common couple poses and making gagging noises when looking them up. At around 3 am you yawned and Wonwoo put his phone and glasses on the little night stand, opening his arms for you to crawl in as you always did. You just loved to sleep in his arms. It was some kind of habit since you were little. You loved his scent and his warmth and sometimes you even found yourself at your own home unable to fall asleep because he wasn’t there. 
The warm and bright sun woke Wonwoo up. He wanted to turn around and get some more sleep but decided to open one eye instead, noticing that you weren’t there anymore. So he stretched his limbs in all directions and put on his glasses. After grabbing his phone and getting out of bed, he waddled to the living room and found you in the small kitchen corner, humming a song he knew while preparing breakfast - or according to the time on the clock, lunch.
He was about to join you when he stopped in his tracks and unlocked his phone, quickly taking a photo before putting it away again. 
“What is my baby making?”
Facing him, you shot him your infamous death glare. “Baby? Really?”
Wonwoo laughed at your unamused voice and joined you, stopping right behind your small form and looking over your shoulder. “Do you know how I like my omelette?” Snorting loudly, you threatened him with your balled first that he quickly ran to the dining table and took his seat. Like the good and obedient boy that he could be. Sometimes. 
He was silent while you added your finishing touches to the late breakfast but when you started to set everything on the table Wonwoo was waiting at, he took another photo, a smile plastered on his face. "What did I do to deserve you, hm?"
You were about to take the first bite of omelette when you stopped in your tracks, fork just inches away from your lips. "Okay, what's going on, Wonwoo? You are super strange today?"
"Is that a surprise to you?"
"Not really... but today you're super super strange so tell me."
He grinned at you and took a sip of the orange juice. "I'm just happy to be with my baby, that's it."
"There!" You pointed at him with your fork. "What is that all about, huh? Since when am I your baby?? Did I miss out on something last night or what??"
The dark haired boy in front of you chuckled as you tried to squeeze an answer out of him, with no success. Slowly worry crept up your spine. "Wait.. I didn't do anything to you, right? Or, I didn't say anything uh... strange, right? I know we had alcohol but... Wonwoo, tell me." 
You saw him wiggle with his eye brow at you. "What do you wish did happen between us?"
"Yah! Jeon Wonwoo, I- .... I saw you naked more than one hundred times! I know all your secrets! I know you better than you know yourself! I.... I am just not your baby!"
He leaned back, crossing his arms in front of his chest while watching you pout. "Chill. I'm just trying to get into the mood."
"For what?"
"For sexy photos."
"For what?!"
"For s-"
"I heard you!!"
"Then why are you asking?"
The piece of omelette had fallen down from your fork a long time ago and you weren't sure what was more important in this very moment. The only thing that you were sure about was the fact that your cheeks were burning like fire. "I... why the heck do you want sexy photos?!"
"You wanted sexy photos for our experiment and here I am. The bestest friend that has ever existed is willing to take some with you. Shouldn't you feel all giddy or so?"
"Says who?" You mirrored him, crossing your arms as well, trying to remember your exact words from the day before. You thought you did ask about more revealing photos but it was just a question about the content of your shared Instagram, your little experiment or how Wonwoo had called it. You just wanted to be sure. Never have you imagined to take some with him a day later, today.
"Forget it. I'm not going to do that."
"Now I'm sad."
Snorting, you rolled your eyes, sure he said it only to sound funny. 
You sat with your friends from uni, poking your lunch with your chopsticks in such boredom that you were more than sure nothing could grab your attention nor lighten up the mood. But you were wrong. Seungkwan hit your shoulder and you were ready to start a fight when he showed you his cellphone screen. "Y/n, what do you think? Yesterday I started a couple Instagram with my girlfriend. It was something I've been thinking about for a while but yeah. How do you find our first post? Pretty nice, huh? We already got 217 likes!"
One chopstick fell out of your hand in surprise but you quickly nodded at your friend. Your own site was a secret. There was no way you would ever tell your friends about it especially if - one day - you would really post less child friendly content. No way. Also, where was Wonwoo?
"W-wow, 217 likes after a day is pretty impressive!"
"To be exact, it's been 20 hours and..... 32 minutes."
"Whatever."
When Seungkwan turned around to the other friends to show them his site, you secretly opened your own with Wonwoo, scrolling through the amount of likes you got until now. That's when you saw the 2 new posts. A photo of you standing in front of the stove, dressed in an oversized white shirt from Wonwoo, bare legs and one from when you set down the food in front of him. Both photos from that morning. Your own face couldn't be seen but they were edited similar like the first post. 
Your eyes flew over the texts Wonwoo had added to each of them.
G'morning baby.
My baby is the best.
Looking around, you quickly made sure that your friends didn't notice what you were doing and you tried to get rid of the warm layer that was covering your cheeks. He wrote baby.
Then you remembered the real reason you opened the app. You wanted to see how many likes you got until now. The newest of the food had 7. The one of you cooking breakfast had 38. And the first one from last saturday had 305 likes. Although you had more than your friend, you wanted the gap to be bigger.
Without noticing, your competitive personality came out. You didn't want to lose to Seungkwan and his girlfriend. Opening Kakao Talk, you wrote Wonwoo a message with a lot of cute shouting emoticons you once bought.
[Y/n] We need more photos - today. I'll be at your place at 7. It's urgent.
⋅𖥔⋅ ━━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━━ ⋅𖥔⋅
This gif is literally Wonwoo right before he came up with his genius idea lol
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umbry-fic · 3 years
Text
A Palette Full of You (2)
Summary: Glimpses into Colette and Lloyd's lives as they grow up together, learn who they are, and fall in love with each other.
(Written for Colloyd Week 2021)
Fandom: Tales of Symphonia Characters: Lloyd Irving, Colette Brunel Relationships: Colette Brunel & Lloyd Irving, Colette Brunel/Lloyd Irving Rating: G Chapter: 2 of 6 Word Count: 4212 Mirror Link: AO3 Original Post Date: 10/06/2021
Chapter Title: Save the Children!
Chapter Summary: Lloyd and Colette take a break from studying and decide to play a video game. Colette starts to ruminate a little on how she's different from the rest of her classmates...
(Colloyd Week Day 2: Sidequest)
Notes+Warnings: Chapter 2 of my multi-chapter Colloyd week fic! Colette and Lloyd play a bunch of Kameo: Elements of Power. Lloyd is bisexual. This chapter might have a bit of internalised acephobia so beware.
Chapter list Full fic Previous chapter Next chapter
~~~
12-years-old
"There! Over there!" Colette shouted, dropping the Xbox controller onto her lap and gesturing frantically towards a corner of the television screen. In her frantic excitement, she completely forgot that Lloyd was sitting right next to her on the sofa, her elbow banging straight into Lloyd's arm.
Lloyd, startled, pitched to the side and pushed the joystick on his Xbox controller in the same direction.
Major Ruin, who Lloyd had been controlling to charge up a Bolder Rush, executed the move at this exact moment as Lloyd let go of the right trigger.
And so Major Ruin careened right off the edge of the platform, as per the directions Lloyd had just inputted into the game. The tragic end to a glorious adventure. Kameo would never rescue her father from her sister’s evil clutches, for she had fallen to her death from a high height... by complete accident. Or maybe it would be better to class this as incompetence?
Oops.
"Oh, no," they both muttered at the same time, staring with their mouths open in horror. Colette reached out uselessly towards the TV, as if she could reach into the game and stop Major Ruin’s fall.
As if.
The armadillo look-alike Earth elemental (except a lot spikier) continued to fall while flailing their stubby limbs uselessly, eventually hitting the ground with the familiar and resonant "thud", accompanied with the dreaded snapping sound that had populated much of their playtime in the Snow-top Village. The thin and winding ice paths throughout that area had led to many a death from fall damage as they had tried to get their hands on the elemental fruits hidden away among various corners. Now that they were in the Ancient Tower, with its dark, foreboding, narrow stone corridors lit only by the sparest of torches sitting in sconces, where there was only one path forward and they were caged in by walls, Colette thought their falling episodes would be over. It was a bit claustrophobic, really.
It appeared that was not the case. Fall damage was eternal, and it would haunt them always, following them everywhere and showing its face at the most inopportune of moments.
Major Ruin morphed back into Kameo's petite, winged form, collapsing to the ground with a pained groan. Lloyd's side of the screen faded to black before he respawned at the last checkpoint, erasing a full 20 minutes of progress. The Kameo that Colette controlled was now completely alone in the chamber, performing her idle animations as Colette’s controller went untouched. Lloyd dropped his Xbox controller into his lap as well, leaning back against the sofa as he let out a groan of his own.
There was no sound apart from the whirring coming from the Xbox under the TV, the game music, and the "whup-whup" of the blades of the ancient standing fan in the corner of the living room, struggling in its job to blow "cool" air at them and combat the viciously hot weather.
Lloyd had every right to be frustrated with her; she had a tendency to kill him in-game. It wasn't murder, just manslaughter: knocking him off the cliff, setting both of them on fire, or startling him in general. It wasn't just in Kameo. Her clumsiness and butterfingers translated to every genre. No matter the game - Mario, Minecraft, Maplestory - she always found some way to cause a game over.
But he'd never directed any frustration or anger towards her. These are just silly games, he said every time. Much easier to laugh over the mirthful consequences together than get mad. Whenever they had the time to play video games together, the air was filled with nothing but laughter, a few frustrated grumbles from when they were struggling at a particular level, and the occasional rib from Lloyd’s end when she messed up. That's what made it incredibly fun. What the two of them had termed "game-time" never failed to put a smile on their faces.
And it was an effective destresser! It was a great relief to be able to channel all the stress from studying for PSLE into beating up trolls in Kameo. That appeared to be Lloyd's favourite part of the game - racking up combos with his favourite character Pummel Weed. Though she had to say her favourite part of the game so far was watching the cutscenes that played after rescuing the baby elementals from the prisons created by the nefarious shadow trolls. The wacky transformation from adorable blob to full-fledged elemental, complete with the blob sprouting arms and growing claws or shells, was… interesting to witness.
"Sorry," she sheepishly said, still feeling the need to apologise as she patted his hand. "Didn't mean to startle you. It's just that I found the last child!"
"Oh, really? Where?” Lloyd asked eagerly, attention turning back to the TV. “I couldn't see anything. It's all so dark."
"Over there." More calmly this time, Colette pointed out the child encased in a translucent ice crystal, tucked away in a corner of the platform hidden in shadow. She’d forgotten the name of this species, and could only describe them as cuttlefish that had taken human form. What were they were doing so far from the Mountain Falls? Weren't they native to that location? "We need to free them quickly! This is the last child."
“The last - you’ve been keeping count?!” Lloyd asked, voice rising in volume and shock written clearly across his face.
“Yeah! The mother said there were three, and we’ve rescued two. She must have been really worried, or she wouldn’t have begged us to save her children. I want to reunite them as soon as possible!”
"Alright. Ice, huh? It'd be similar to the other crystals we got rid of in the snow area. So just turn into Ash!" Lloyd suggested.
"Oh, you're right! Thanks for the reminder!" Colette opened the transformation wheel with a quick press of a button and proceeded to fumble with the joystick for a full minute while Lloyd slowly crawled his way back up the tower. She kept pushing too far to the right and overshooting Ash's dragon head on the wheel to land on Thermite, before overcorrecting to the left and landing on 40 Below. Frustration slowly piled up until she groaned, burying her head in her lap. This was embarrassing. She couldn't even navigate a simple menu like this, even after months of playing this game. Butterfingers, once again.
"Lloyd, can you open the main menu? I'll just pick Ash from there."
"Nah, we don't need to open Wotnot. Let's give Ortho a break for now," Lloyd replied. She knew that wasn't the real reason. Lloyd just didn’t want to hear from the eccentric wizard trapped within the paperback book that doubled as the main menu. "Here, let me help. But you need to get up first!" She straightened up, still sulking as he smiled at her, looking like he was holding back laughter at her predicament.
Lloyd stretched out his hand and placed his index finger over her thumb, gently guiding her thumb on the joystick so that the selection square landed right on Ash's head. Colette watched as Kameo hunched over and transformed into the red, clawed, scaly dragon that was the fire elemental Ash, tail slowly swaying from side-to-side as his wings flapped.
"You're so good at this..." she muttered, glancing down at her controller where Lloyd's hand was still placed over hers. They were only 12, but his hands were already slightly bigger than hers. He'd gotten his growth spurt in the earlier part of this year and shot up in height; now half a head taller than her. It was a slightly startling change after being the same height for the six years they'd known each other. He would likely only grow taller as time went on. As for herself... Maybe she'd gain another 5 centimetres by the time she was 18, if she was lucky. Given the actual state of her luck, she'd probably stagnate at her current height. Tallness was just not in the cards for her.
Not that she minded. The added height made him rather comfortable to lie on. If he gained just a few more centimetres, his shoulder would be the perfect height to rest her head on… That would make movie nights all the more comfortable.
Plus, the height change was just that. A physical change. Inside, Lloyd was still the same person - the boy who loved playing with Noishe but hated doing his homework, and would do everything in the world to avoid it. He hadn't changed. Not a single bit.
"Don’t sweat it. There are so many things you’re good at too! If it weren’t for your keen eye, I would’ve missed the kid entirely… So don’t be too bothered!” Lloyd gave her hand one squeeze before removing his hand, returning to his quest of returning to Colette's location. "Now, melt the ice!”
Colette did exactly that, leading the lumbering Ash over to the entrapped child and unleashing his fire breath. She watched with bated breath as the ice slowly melted, causing more of the child to be exposed to the air. They had previously used this exact same technique to unearth elemental fruits in the icy caverns filled with those icky bugs that exploded when defeated and obscured the screen with blue juice. It had been exciting then, to stumble upon secrets because of their penchant for exploration. But watching the child slowly be freed, watching their tentacles slowly start to move as they came into contact with warm air, was an entirely different experience, one that filled her with joy.
When was the last time the two of them completed a side objective like this, one that had direct effects on a citizen of this magical world? Casting her mind back informed her that that would be the starting town, when they returned to water the farmer’s crops with Deep Blue.
Now that the last child had been fully freed, all the children went running back to their worried mother, who proceeded to pull them into a giant group hug. Colette dropped her controller, clapping her hands together at such a sweet sight. Lloyd did laugh, then, a chuckle that she could feel rumble through her as well from where their shoulders touched. "What are you so excited about?" he asked.
"We did it! We saved all the children!" she exclaimed, watching the mother pull out one of the large elemental fruit in thanks. "Doesn't that make you happy? That we were able to help someone... That's what makes these side objectives fulfilling, right?"
"Yeah, I guess. It's just like you to get like this over a video game,” Lloyd replied, watching Kameo hoist the elemental fruit into the air, where it magically shrunk in size to fit in her bag. Colette wondered how Kameo’s bag even worked - how did it store Wotnot and dozens of elemental fruits? It was like a black hole. Just like Noishe's stomach.
“Though..." Lloyd frowned, staring up at the clock that hung on the wall, whose hands indicated that it was 2 pm. "Time’s up. We should get back to revising before Mom gets home from the vet with Noishe."
"Oh, you're right..." That was a downer. Time had flown so fast; their 20 minutes were up already!
The moment had come to return to the dining table and the assessment books that sat open on it. Studying was never fun, but it just had to be math today, and the chapter just had to be nets. Her most hated subject, combined with the topic she hated most. It was a headache all around.
But Lloyd was surprisingly good at nets, and he'd been a great help the whole day. Even if he still hated math with a passion and always got stuck on algebra questions, where it was her turn to assist him. That was why studying together was effective! They could fill in the gaps for each other, and motivate each other to keep going. Just three months left to go until it was all over! They could do this, and they would get through it. Together, just as they would every predicament that came to pass in the future.
"Um, and before you go home today, could you help me with something else?"
"What is it?" Colette asked, reaching for the TV remote on the coffee table. Lloyd was staring at the carpet, his hand absent-mindedly pulling at the hem of his singlet, separating the fabric from sweaty skin.
“Ellum’s birthday present,” Lloyd muttered, his voice getting softer with each word he spoke, until she could barely make out the words. “His birthday is in two weeks, and I…”
Ohhh.
They had a habit of telling each other almost everything, for any secret was always safe with the other. So she knew why Lloyd was clamming up. Ellum was his current crush, after all.
“Say no more. Of course I’ll help you! We can do whatever you want!” she replied with enthusiasm. She'd be happy to help.
"Thank you," Lloyd replied, meeting her gaze again with a tiny smile lighting up his face. "Now, let's get back to studying."
They made the short walk to the dining table, taking their seats across from each other. Lloyd's face was already starting to twist into a grimace, resigning himself to another few hours of torture at the hands of the twisted people who made their livelihood setting math questions.
Clearing away the Kit Kat wrappers on her assessment book, she glanced down at a question about nets she'd been working on before the break. Yet not a single word on the page was being absorbed. They were all running away from her.
The downside of Lloyd confiding in her for all of his crushes was that it was a stark reminder that she hadn't had her first one yet. And then, inevitably, her mind would drift further to all the little ways she stood out from her classmates.
It was like everyone around her had changed drastically overnight at some unknown point in time. The jokesters of the class had just started making dirty jokes one day, prompting scandalised glares from the rest of the class but also prompting snickers. She herself didn't get the joke half the time, just laughed to go along with everyone else.
Then there was the shift in daily conversation. Instead of discussing their favourite Pokémon, more often than not the other girls would now discuss in hushed voices while giggling which celebrity was the most attractive. She herself would sit quietly, trying to melt into the wall as she observed without interjecting, half fascinated and half horrified. Weren't they all too young for this?
Things got even more awkward when she was forcibly pulled into the conversation when someone directed a question at her. She had no idea what to say whenever someone showed her a picture of a celebrity and asked her to rate them. The only thing she ever managed to stutter out was that their eyes were a nice colour, and so was their hair. That... was how you judged a person on how attractive they were, right? Everyone else, though, seemed to think she was weird. But how was she supposed to be feeling? No one had ever taught her. It felt like everyone was keeping a secret from her on how these things were supposed to work, then making fun of her for not getting it.
She only got more confused every time something like that happened. All she wanted to do was go back to talking about her favourite cartoons, but that didn't seem to be an option. Lloyd wasn't in the same class as her, so she couldn't even sit with him and ignore everyone else. The only time she could meet up with him during school hours was at recess. She didn't know what Lloyd talked about with the rest of his friends. Maybe the same stuff. But she didn't really care, because, with him, she could just be herself. There was no need for tiring pretence.
All she could do when the girls were in a mood to discuss celebrities again was sit a little outside of their circle, counting down the seconds remaining for class to start while she tried to look as occupied as possible. She couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief every time the topic of conversation turned back to something a little easier to understand, like video games.
But surely, someday, she would understand.
She was waiting. For that day. For her to finally catch up to everyone else in the race she hadn’t even known she’d entered until everyone had left her in the dust, still standing with her mouth agape at the starting line. To finally be like everyone else, to be able to fit in seamlessly. But there was no use getting down about it!
She just had to meet The One. Then everything would change, everything would fix itself. That's what happened in all the stories, the shows, the movies, after all.
Because everyone, in the end, learned to feel the same way, right?
~~~
19-years-old
"Right! I think that’s enough for now.” Colette’s voice shattered the serenity of her room from where she was sitting on the bed with her laptop balanced in her lap, cutting through the sleepy fog that was starting to fill Lloyd’s head. The peaceful Ghibli tunes that had been filling the room cut off abruptly as she shut her laptop screen, reaching a hand up to undo her messy hair bun.
Lloyd yawned, rubbing his eyes and hoping that would make his eyelids feel less heavy. Pushing himself up from his belly-down position on the bed, he caught one last glance of the back of Colette's neck before her hair covered it again. Doing prep for uni was not the most exciting way to pass the afternoon, and it certainly wasn't normal fare for a date. But it had to be done, so they might as well do it together, as they did all things.
Though he'd gotten distracted and started scrolling through YouTube about an hour ago.
"Are you going to change out of pyjamas?” Lloyd asked, stretching, his shirt hiking up slightly. He’d taken the lift down the three floors that separated his apartment and hers in the old HDB block that they’d stayed in all their lives, rang the doorbell while staring at the Chinese New Year decorations that were still hung up despite the month now being April, and waited for Colette to open the door… Only to be met with the sight of Colette in her favourite doggie pyjamas, the baby blue button-up ones that covered every inch of her skin. She'd shrugged and said it was cold from the non-stop rain, but he knew the real reason was the lazy post-A-levels haze, that affected him as well. These days, sleeping in until noon was the norm. Or sleeping in until one of his parents came into his bedroom to knock him awake.
“Yeah,” she replied, grabbing a towel and a few articles of clothing from the open wardrobe and heading towards the doorway.
“Alright.”
Lloyd closed his laptop slowly, not wanting a repeat of the time in Secondary 3 he’d shattered the screen because Zelos had sneaked up on him and caught him unawares. He rolled off the bed, making the small trip of barely a few steps to the study table, passing the various objects Colette had up on the walls - the Disney posters she’d gotten ages ago, and the random stickers she’d amassed over the years from school club sales and donations - and the bay window filled to the brim with cute and huggable soft toys, a familiar Siberian Husky that showed the signs of being well-loved sitting atop the pile.
Lying on the study table was Colette’s Nintendo Switch, plugged into a socket to charge. Right next to it was a jar holding paintbrushes of all sizes, all of them as clean of paint as possible, for he knew Colette took extremely good care of her art supplies. The sketchbook no one was allowed to peek into was sticking out of the table’s drawer, half-used pads of foolscap and sheets of paper with pencils rolling in them visible within. Files that he’d nearly kicked, containing lecture notes and worksheets, were shoved into messy piles under the table, unneeded after the conclusion of examinations but having no convenient place to be stored. The tiny shelf sitting on the table still had her Junior College badge housed on one of the layers, silver in colour and reflecting the light from the windows, despite her having no use for it ever since they had graduated in November. (Perhaps she liked looking at it? She was something of a magpie sometimes.) He could spot a familiar conch shell, placed among other knick-knacks, mostly birthday presents.
Picking up the handheld (with its lime green and cyan JoyCons firmly attached), he unplugged the charger and watched the screen light up - and frowned at what it showed him.
"Hey, Colette!" he yelled, cupping his hands around his mouth. He hoped he could catch her before she entered the bathroom. Uncle Frank was working in the master bedroom no more than five metres away and had been nothing less than incredibly nice, as he always was, providing tons of refreshments and snacks. Lloyd would like to prevent a shouting relay if possible.
If Colette had been walking, she shouldn't have reached the bathroom yet...
The fast pitter-patter of bare feet against the floor informed him that he was right. "What is it, Lloyd?" Colette's head poked its way into the doorframe, her golden hair reaching down towards the floor, her blue eyes wide and questioning.
"You left Animal Crossing on," he answered, waving the Switch in the air.
Her eyes lit up in understanding. "Oh. You know what to do, right?"
Control the playable character and put her to sleep, then save the game. He'd done it before.
"Yeah, but, I was thinking... I haven't taken a walk on your island since last year. How about I take another tour while you're in the bathroom? If you're okay with it, of course."
"Oh, sure! I trust you." Colette smiled sweetly, turning to leave before pausing and turning back. "But remember -"
"- remember not to step on the flowers." Lloyd finished her sentence easily, stating that fact very seriously. He knew about Colette's concerns about her precious flowers, which she’d spent hours arranging around her little island until they were in just the right spot - fields of rainbows to welcome any guests and guide them around. He hadn't known that the stems of the flowers could break from being trampled multiple times when he first explored her quaint world - the fictional flowers were just as fragile as their real-life counterparts. He’d kept that in mind ever since, adding it to the many rules to follow to ensure no harm came to all the hard work Colette had put in to make her island perfect.
"Yep. Um…” Colette wrung her hands together, bowing her head so her hair formed a veil over her face.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, taking a step towards her.
“No, nothing’s wrong!” Colette hurriedly replied, lifting her head again. She screwed her eyes shut, hands clenching into fists. “I - uh, just wanted to say… I love you!”
The last three words came out in a shout, so quick that he almost didn’t catch them.
Lloyd froze, trying to process what he’d just heard - and before he could reply, Colette was already gone, having fled down the corridor and out of sight.
He slowly shut his mouth, which he hadn’t even realised was open.
This was the first time she’d said those coveted three words since they'd started dating. Her voice had been dripping with uncertainty, her posture betraying her shyness, but no matter how contradictory, she’d said it with sincerity, with all her heart. And even though he didn't need to hear them from her to know she loved him, for it was actions that counted, and certainly didn't need to hear them from her for him to love her, it still made him smile, his whole soul filled with a light warmth.
They’d travelled such a long way from all the checkpoints in life that they'd passed together. They still had a long way to go, but they’d do it together. As they always had.
"I love you too, silly," he said into empty space, knowing Colette couldn't hear him but wanting to say it anyway.
Lloyd unlocked the Switch screen, staring down at Colette's intricate creation. Flowers filled the screen, black, grey, white, purple, that he found familiar but couldn't put a name to. Oh, well. He would just tour the island and check out any new changes while he walked to the living room and waited for Colette to come back. Maybe he'd visit the town centre as well.
The most vital question to be answered was... Had Colette gotten those froggy chairs that she wanted for the townspeople?
~~~
Next chapter
3 notes · View notes
def-initely-soul · 4 years
Note
Some Jin and some soft comedy -if you want!- and with lots of your magnificent fantasy. Please stay hydrated. Prompt: “What’s that? “You don’t want to know. Don’t look.”
ASDFGHJKGFDS aren’t you sweet <3 
with pleasure ;)
pairing: seokjin from BTS x reader (f.)
prompts: “What’s that?” “You don’t want to know. Don’t look.”
genre: humour; angst; supernatural; PG-13
warnings: mature language; mention of minor character death
words: 4.4 (shit why does this keep happening with Seokjin?)
You almost knock the empty cup sitting on your wooden desk with your boots when the phone rings.
It takes you a second to swallow down the rest of your happy faces biscuit before you stretch out your hand to grab at the telephone, too lazy to get up and pick it up properly.
“Yellow?” you answer nonchalantly, without a doubt Yoongi being on the other line to tell you about some other prank he pulled on the neighbour across the hall. You’re pretty sure he’s in love with him really but the fucker would never admit that to you.
Demons’ reputation and such stand in the way.
A sigh comes from the other side, one you’re pretty sure doesn’t belong to your demonic friend.
“Hi,” says a voice, too polite and clipped to be considered Yoongi’s and your eyebrows scrunch in confusion.“Is this-” the man says and then he stops.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this...” he whispers incredulously to himself and you have half a mind to be somewhat offended before he continues.
“Is this the Jaeger Agence? Paranormal Investigation and Extermination Services?”
This time you don’t knock over only the empty cup. Your boots drag some empty papers on their wake, your chair screeches with the added weight and a pen almost rolls off your desk before you stop it with one hand. Holy fuck, someone is actually calling for the first time in months!
Someone other than a certain demon boy ranting about a human across the hall.
“Yes, that’s right, that’s us!” you say entirely too enthusiastic for the first client in what seems like ages. You’ve longed for such excitement for far too long, you haven’t been in any missions and the most exhilaration you’ve gotten these days was when you found out your favourite deli delivered across town.
You sit up straight in your seat, clearing your throat. “And how can I be of assistance?” you say in the most professional voice you can manage. Gotta impress the first client in months!
Although the man’s tired sigh doesn’t seem too impressed. “There’s a problem. In my house,” he responds curtly and you hum in acknowledgement, waiting for him to elaborate. But as the man fails to do so, you realize that maybe he’s not such a firm believer of your services and might need a slight push forward.
“And what seems to be said problem?” you ask calmly, trying to keep a positive outlook.
The man takes a breath. “My plumbing system doesn’t work.”
Oh. Okay. This is a prank.
It’s your turn to take a breath. “Okay, I know this might seem funny to you but I run a serious business here, Sir! People might be in dire need of assistance and your phonecall might be taking away their chance for help! So goodnight and don’t call again-” you grit through your teeth before moving to put down the receiver.
“No, wait!” is the man’s immediate reaction and against your logic you don’t hang up, waiting for what he has to say. After all, you started this business to help people.
“I’m sorry if I sounded... patronizing before,” the man continues, voice suddenly too tired and worn out and you almost feel sorry for him. “But the truth is... I never really believed in any of this stuff so now it’s incredibly difficult to come to terms with this whole situation. My plumbing really doesn’t work, I’ve tried everything and that doesn’t work either, so I’m really desperate for any help you can give me, be it in the supernatural field or not,” he concludes with a heavy sigh, riddled with exhaustion and you bite the inside of your cheek.
Damn you and your psychopathic need to help others.
You take a deep breath. “Alright. I’ll help you.”
.
.
After forty minutes you find yourself parking your Jeep Wrangler at the address Kim Seokjin, the man on the phone, gave you.
It took a while to pack all the necessary equipment for what seems to be Mr Kim’s problem. From what he said to you, there’s some weird purple goo dripping down his faucets instead of water. He used any drain cleaners he could find in his house the day after he noticed the leakage and when those didn’t work, he went around town, trying everything he hadn’t used before. But it seemed the drain cleaners only made the goo more prominent, more indestructible instead of toning it down.
What made matters worse is that he kept finding traces of the goo all around his house. On his bathroom, on the living room, on the kitchen cabinets (with pieces of food gone as well), even on his bed on time while he was asleep. It scared him since he never went near that stuff without some gloves and without cleaning himself with bottled water after. So that meant someone else was in his house.
Hence his call to you.
You knock the door twice and you take a step back, waiting for the man to answer the door.
You take in the house. It’s a two-story house, one of those old ones that are scarce around the city, painted dark brown with white windows and a wooden porch. Surrounded by new, tall buildings as if the owner was too stubborn to move and give his property away for someone to buy it and make it into an apartment building.
You think you would’ve liked the owner.
The door opens after a few seconds and the man behind the door, assuming it’s Kim Seokjin, almost blinds you.
That’s how beautiful he is.
He has black hair, falling on top of his almond eyes that seem to spark under the street lights. He’s tall, with broad shoulders to accentuate his figure and he’s dressed in black jeans and a white loose shirt that really help bring out his eyes.
After what feels like an eternity in front of the sun, you blink your eyes back to reality to introduce yourself to who seems to be an angel on earth.
Although something stops you when you see the way he’s looking at you. Eyes narrowed in, gaze suspicious, sceptical as he stares you up and down.
The doubtful looking angel opens his mouth.” You’re...” he says, confirming his voice is that of the man on the phone but he seems to not know how to continue.
Your eyes zero on him as well, as you cross your arms over your dungarees. “What? A woman? That's right buddy, us exterminators come in that gender as well. Possibly even all the genders! -well, if anyone else is actually crazy enough like me to become one-,” you say with a level gaze, before adding that last tidbit towards yourself.
“Let’s face it no one’s crazy enough as you,” comes from your right and you see your friendly neighbour demon, Yoongi leaning on the wall with a lazy smirk over his lips. You narrow your eyes at him, knowing he’s disguising himself so only you can see him. You don’t respond to him, choosing to at least not look totally crazy in front of your new client, even though you just yelled at him.
The man in front of you simply stares at you with an open mouth at your answer, obviously not having a single clue of Yoongi standing a few feet away from him. He quickly shakes his head though to get out of his momentary daze before his eyes zero in on you again.
“I was just gonna say that you’re...”, he stops. His eyes once again rake up your form and you resist the urge to shuffle awkwardly in front of him. Yoongi drowns a chuckle.
When his eyes reach your face again, he completes his sentence. “Short.”
You gasp instinctively, your eyes widening at the insult, while Yoongi is now openly having a laughing fit. You’ll deal with him later but Kim Seokjin? The audacity of this man! Did God give rudeness permissions to anyone with a face close to perfection?
You point at him accusatory. “Well, you’re just freakishly tall so there’s....!” you say trying to come up with a comeback but when you come up with none you’re forced to meet his raised eyebrow with a simple “... that...”
He still looks at you unimpressed and this time there’s a small smirk playing at the edge of his lips. To other people, it would be unnoticeable but you’ve dealt with too many arrogant assholes to know superiority when you see it.
You take a breath to calm your ravaging temper, before Yoongi chimes in.
“Listen, not to anger you or anything but I’m pretty sure he thinks you’re crazy so why not go for the whole package?”
You ponder the thought for a second and truth is your chaotic mindset wants to mess with the beautiful but mean person in front of you.
You turn to Yoongi that’s behind you, Kim Seokjin looking at you suspiciously once more, when you say “Hold me back.”
Yoongi and Seokjin talk at the same time, the demon saying “Oh, I love that joke,” and the man saying “Excuse me?”
You repeat the words once more while looking at Yoongi and taking a semi-step forward as if you’re about to attack Seokjin. The tall man looks at you cautiously, alert in his wide eyes as he takes a step back.
When Yoongi doesn’t hold you back, you turn pleadingly at him. “Will you please hold me back?”
Yoongi looks confused. “Bitch, I’m not really here, how am I supposed to do that?”
You groan before you shoo him away. “Fine, leave you good for nothing ghost!”
Yoongi smiles as he begins evaporating. “Ah, yeah, that’ll scare him,” he jokes before vanishing into thin air.
After that little show, you turn towards the man on the other side of that door who looks at you as if you’ve gone mad. You smile, changing your angry demeanour to a more nonchalant one as you rest your hand on your hip.
“Did that manage to scare ya? I tend to do that to people...” you say in your most suave, proud voice as you flick your hair behind your shoulders.
Seokjin stares for a moment too long before shaking his head and the unimpressed stare is back. “Actually you just freaked me out,” he says earnestly. But nonetheless, he steps aside, making room for you to enter.
You stare at the motion with one raised eyebrow. Is he really giving you the clear? You’d thought your previous demonstration would’ve scared him enough to not want you inside his house, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Maybe he just took it as it is, a joke.
Or maybe he’s just really desperate.
Even so, you enter the premises, feeling the air shift as if the atmosphere inside the house is overstuffed with something.
You stop once you realize this. Magic. It’s all over the air, you can feel it, sucking in the breath of your lungs as if it needs it to survive. That’s what magic does when it’s left uncontrolled for too long. Sucking the air out of everything, making people go mad.
There’s definitely something wrong with the house.
You turn to Seokjin before your eyes fleet around the house. “Can you point me to where the closest leakage is?” you ask, chaotic demeanour put aside in favour of focusing on your actual job for once.
The handsome man quickly nods his head as he motions for you to follow him. “There’s one in the kitchen, although it wasn’t the first one I noticed...” he says as you walk through his living room and into the kitchen. Indeed as you step inside you see the faucet is dripping with purple goo, slowly dying the sink as traces of it spread to the floor, the cabinets and on a path out of the kitchen.
You take a step forward when you remember you’re still in your boots. You look at your feet and then back at the man. “Should I take my shoes off?”
Seokjin blinks at you, unsure for a moment before he waves you off dismissively. “Nah, I’ll have to clean up the rest of the mess anyway...” he responds with an easy smile that has you staring for a moment too long.
Then his eyes fall on a greenish mark your shoe has left behind and his nose scrunches in disgust. “What’s that?”
Your eyes follow his stare only to look at your shoes. You pick your leg up to stare at the sole only to find you squashed what seemed to be excrements and you make a disgusted sound before wiping your shoe with a spare paper towel.
“You don’t want to know. Don’t look,” you say before you throw it into a specially designed trashbag you carry with you on missions. This one is empty.
You shake your head back into focus as you turn on the sink. You examine the goo with your eyes for a moment before you realize your hair is still loose and you grab them up in a ponytail. Then you take out some gloves from your trunk, wearing them and taking another step closer.
You can feel Seokjin looking at you curiously but you pay him no mind even if his stare has goosebumps running down your arms.
You gather the goo in your fingertips, it’s colour a fluorescent purple and as you make a connecting string between your fingers, you find it’s stretchy, like strings of cheese on a pizza.
“Well?” Seokjin finally asks impatient, as you take off your gloves and lean in closer to take a whiff.
Hmm. Smells like saltwater.
You rise up again. “Where did you notice it for the first time?” you ask, disposing of the gloves into the trashbag.
“On the bathroom upstairs...” he responds as his eyes follow your movements. You reach inside your trunk for what seems like a mini aquarium and a water bottle of what seems like regular water. 
You grab one in each arm before you turn your eyes to Seokjin. “Can I?” you say pointing upstairs. Seokjin only nods, once again leading you through the house.
Turns out he’s got an actually really big house, even if it doesn’t seem so from outside.
“Your house is really cool...” you observe out loud, as you pass by the living room again, filled with books on every wall and a very cosy looking blanket throw on top of the couch. The fireplace is still warm, a tiny bit of fire resting inside as you pass by, making you wonder how it’d feel to rest in front of it after a long day.
Seokjin turns to look at you somehow surprised. “I... thanks. It’s my grandma’s actually. Bought it herself with her very first money working at a clothing factory. She once said this house was her first real achievement,” the man reminisces with a soft smile and you find yourself smiling as well.
“Then how come she left you here alone?” you ask curiously as you go up the stairs but when Seokjin’s face darkens you realized you’ve made a mistake.
“She died. Two years ago. Left me the house with a warning she’d haunt me if I ever sold it,” he says with a chuckle, dark aura leaving him immediately at the fond memory and you press your lips together in a kind smile.
“Sounds like I would’ve liked your grandmother,” you joke, and he smiles as you shift your arms to carry up the aquarium and the bottle, which Seokjin notices.
“Here let me help you,” he urges and goes to carry the tiny aquarium in both hands as he moves forward toward what you assume is his bathroom.
“So what is this gonna do?” he says pointing to the aquarium with his chin as he kicks open the bathroom door.
You shake the water bottle at him. “This is saltwater. If I’m right, there’s a sea imp in your house, although it beats me how it got here. These things don’t tend to leave the sea for too long and the city is too far away from the sea for one of them to end up here organically. If it is an imp, I’ll fill up the aquarium with saltwater and remove the imp into it to safely transport it into the sea,” you explain once you step inside the bathroom and Seokjin turns to look at you with wide eyes. As if not expecting your answer.
“You’re not gonna kill it?” he says as if he doesn’t believe you and his wide eyes make him look like a curious child. You can only hide your smile.
Instead, you shrug as he puts the aquarium near the sink and you let the bottle next to it. “Would you kill a stray cat if it somehow ended up in your house even though it made a mess?”
He stares at you for a moment too long, surprised by your way of thinking  before he shakes his head with an incredulous smile. “No, I suppose not...” he says earnestly before moving to the corner of the room to let you do your job.
Turns out your right, there’s an excessive amount of leakage from the sink, the salty smell engulfing the room and you open up the cabinet below it to unscrew the pipes from the side that connects to the wall. When you hear movement inside the pipe you quickly close the open end with your gloved hand, to not let the imp escape and just as quickly unscrew the other side and cover it as well.
You’re at once on your feet, telling Seokjin to pour the saltwater in the aquarium and as he does so, you let the imp fall into the water with a soft plop.
You quickly close the lid as the little fiend seems to struggle for a moment before it realizes it’s covered with saltwater. It’s not the sea per se, but it manages to calm it down. Once it’s serene, the purple goo begins sinking back into the pipes, fading and eventually disappearing.
You smile once you see Seokjin’s shocked eyes as his stare travels between the calmly swimming imp and the clean faucet. He moves to the sink to open up the tap and there it is, clean water at last.
“Voila!” you exclaim with a satisfied lilt in your voice as Seokjin turns to stare at you again.
“You,” he replies shortly and for one second you think he’ll be mad at you. “You’re a genius!” he exclaims with an incredulous chuckle before his eyes travel to the imp in the aquarium. Now that’s it’s somewhere more familiar and calm, it looks cute. Though to be honest, to you all imps are cute.
“Why the tone of surprise...” you mumble to yourself, Seokjin not hearing you in favour of watching the little imp in awe.
“It looks kinda cute, doesn’t it?” he observes with a soft smile that makes the apples of his cheeks rise up. Your face heats up as you find yourself agreeing but not for the imp this time.
“Ah, haha, yeah, they all are,” you respond with an uneasy chuckle, before taking the now more heavy aquarium in your arms and begin walking down the stairs.
Once you reach the kitchen, you turn your face away from Seokjin, fearing he might see right through you. You rest the aquarium on top of the kitchen table as you begin hastily gathering your stuff back into your trunk.
Seokjin follows not too far behind, eyes still trained on the imp in behind the glass.
“Um, would it be crazy if I kept it?”
Your eyes widen as you turn to look at Seokjin that looks softly at the creature currently looking at him with curious eyes.
“You want to keep the imp?” you repeat as if you hadn’t heard right. 
Seokjin doesn’t look at you as he answers. “Yeah. I mean it would be like keeping a pet. He doesn’t seem to make a lot of mess and he only needs saltwater and food right? Plus he seems to really like me, not to brag or anything...” he replies, waving a hand in front of the tiny blue creature that follows the digit around playfully.
He is right. Imps don’t cause trouble and the only time where they’re dangerous is when they feel unsafe. This imp seemed to really not like the running water here, hence the uncontrollable amount of magic around the house. But now that the little guy is in salt water, the magic has already subsided tremendously. He still needs regular seawater to survive but you think you can manage that.
“Alright. I guess I can bring you a bottle of seawater, saltwater isn’t gonna last forever, but those things need extra special care. And you can’t find information like that at your local pet store,” you warn him but Seokjin turns to look at you with a smile.
“Well if you’re willing to teach me some things I’d appreciate the help,” his smile is so bright and sincere, it has you swallowing your next words. What were you going to say? What were you even thinking? No clue!
“So, you didn’t tell me when you first started seeing the goo?” you ask in an attempt to fill the suddenly awkward silence. Seokjin makes a sound of remembrance before he taps his chin.
“I think it was a day after a party I hosted. My friends had gathered here to celebrate one of us getting a promotion and the next day I found the faucets leaking with goo. At first, I thought those hooligans had done something to my sinks so I just tried to clean it,” he says, his voice turning soft once he says the word “hooligans”, revealing how much he actually cares for his friends. It’s cute.
“Only it didn’t work,” you observe with a smile and Seokjin smiles back at you with a nod.
But then your eyebrows scrunch in confusion. That’s weird. Imps hate big crowds. So how did a sea imp that hates big crowds and noise end up here?
When you move to pick up your trunk you find your answer. As you trudge through the living room, your eyes fall on a frame on top of the fireplace. There a large group of people, you assume to be Seokjin and his friends, sit across the camera with large smiles on their faces. And in the corner of the photograph rests one man you’ve seen before.
Though man isn’t quite right.
Demon is more like it.
Yoongi stares back at you from the picture with a cocky smile, as if mocking you even through the glossy film. Your mouth opens in astonishment as you stare at your friend that also seems to be Seokjin’s friend? Is this why he only appeared to you before?
This doesn’t make any sense.
Seokjin sees you staring at the picture and he moves in close to you. “Hey, you alright?”
You shake your head. Seokjin probably doesn’t know Yoongi is a demon, so I’d be best if he didn’t hear it from you. “Yeap, easy peasy, lemon squeezy!” you say overly-cheerful as you make up your mind to call Yoongi as soon as your back at your apartment-turned office.
Seokjin looks at you kinda weirded out but for the sake of all, he chooses not to comment. He simply nods.
You make a move to get a better hold of your trunk before you take a breath.
“Well, this has been nice! I should get going now...” you inform him and simultaneously reminding yourself you probably won’t see him again. Suddenly there’s an ache in your chest but you squash it down. You just met the guy, act normal for once in your life!
Seokjin’s eyes widen in sudden panic, for some reason not wanting you to leave just yet. “Wait!” he shouts unintentionally and you almost drop your trunk at the volume of his voice. You turn around slowly to see him staring at you with what seems like fear in his eyes and for some reason hope blooms in your chest.
“I-” he says, scrambling for an excuse to not let you go yet and his eyes widen when he finds it. “I didn’t pay you yet!” he announces cheerfully, running into the kitchen to retrieve his wallet.
The reason behind his outburst has your hope deflating, face falling as soon as he disappears and brightening again once he reenters the living room.
When he hands you the appropriate amount, there is really nothing else to keep you here. And yet after you thank him, none of you move to step away. You should go, you know that but for some reason, you can bear to leave him.
For some reason, Seokjin also dreads the moment you’ll depart.
“I, uhm...” he begins, losing his train of thought as his eyes bore into yours. What’s wrong with him? He’s seen a lot of pretty girls before, why is he suddenly acting like this?
None like you though, he thinks.
None like you.
So he asks for your personal number. In the pretence of needing to be in touch for the proper care of the sea imp in his kitchen.
.
.
From inside the kitchen, unbeknown to both of them a certain demon stares at the interaction, disguised away from both.
Yoongi put the imp in Seokjin’s bathroom. After a lot of time wondering how could he get the two of you close he finally found an excuse.
Before Yoongi was a demon, hundreds of lifetimes ago he was best friends with a peasant boy. A peasant boy named Seokjin. And for some cruel reason, Yoongi’s happiness meant Seokjin’s misery. And Yoongi knew that but he didn’t listen to fate.
He let Seokjin go through immeasurable pain just so he could survive. 
And now that Yoongi found both of you in this life, so close yet so unaware of one another, he knew he had a debt to pay. He knew he had to bring you close for all those years he caused you to spent apart.
The little sea imp stares at the empty space next to the cabinets.
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migleefulmoments · 4 years
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Abb/y has something to s/ay
Let me premise this by reminding everyone that Abby -like Trump-doesn’t “get” comedy. They literally do not understand jokes, punchlines, or humor. So a satirical show about the Hollywood song writers falls flat. Her time away did nothing to sway her conspiratorial aspirations or her misogynistic hatred of Mia. She watched Royalties not once, but twice... not to enjoy Darren’s creativity and performance, not to support the celebrity she stans, and not even to crack up at the humor, no she watched twice because she was looking for confirmation bias. She wanted to document all of the ways Darren wrote his CrissColfer truth into Pierce’s life and she obsessively listened to all of the diss-tracks he wrote to attack his wife.  
Let me also premise this by saying I loved the show. I thought it was funny and the songs are so damn catchy.  The lyrics are quintessential Darren- funny, very clever, and raunchy.  
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R/oyalties, the Tale of Two Shows with a Heaping Side of Meta
ajw720. So I just finished watching R/oyalties for the second time, this time solely focused on the meta.  Look, we all know, the show is not good, it was not well written and the short format didn’t help as there was no option to develop character or plot.  But D knew it would not be good, he apologized for it back in January 2019.  And I think the effort he put into acting was the effort it deserved. Ok.
But his songs were genius.  As were the videos, hence why i call it the tale of two shows.  It truly was like watching content made by completely different people. I concur with MH, D is “intensely talented.”  And the part of this show he poured his blood, sweat, and tears into, the songs, are evident of this.
But this is a post about that Heaping Side of Meta. I think D, knowing that that show would not be made in the manner he envisioned, instead used it as a vehicle to make some bold statements and parallels with his career and public life.  Shall we begin?  And please, unlike the perfect song, this is not a perfect post and after the second round of watching i canceled my Quibi subscription and never plan to look back, so please feel free to add. I know some of these have been pointed out but I thought it was valuable to have one post.
One idea to inpsire the song?  A tiny FROG on a dime.
D’s shirt 1st seen in Episode 2: “It is hard to soar like an Eagle when you are surrounded by turkeys”
And of course “Call me Goldilocks bitch”  Remind you of something?
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How about the entirety of Episode 3 when we are told that an artist is completely the product of the team.  That no matter what the artists expresses they want, it doesn’t matter because the Label/manager/publicist/on camera agent/legal will always have a say. And how it will play in America or the Foreign market are key metrics of how the product is produced and presented.  I love the line of the songwriter that tells P/ierce and S/ara to “get out while they are young.”  Or the line by one of her team “we don’t want something different, we want something the same that is different.”  And in the end P&S simply took one of KK old songs and reworked it, making something different that is not different and her team loved it.  
And of course, the line that was an utter slap in the face to the most over praised “director” of an indie band video ever when D reminds her of the real director in his life, the man set to direct major motion pictures, “you know who would be perfect to direct? C/hris.  C/hris would shatter this.”
Not much in Episode 4, but the gorilla suit in my opinion was mocking of a certain MMR video where we watched Swiller and a banana in a song about a gorilla.  Images I never need to see in my head again.
Episode 5, a gem, I am still so fucking proud of D and how he mocked her throughout the entirety of the episode.  New lines I love of that amazing song he wrote about her (in addition to those i posted previously here) “Some people say I’m a  genius, which comes from the greek word for Latin, and other people will say, alright in fact i’m a fuckin’s genius” “I’m not saying I’m a god, but I’m not saying I’m not a god.”  Mocking at its finest made all that much better by the band’s name “Switchback Jacket” that D describes as “butt rock emo” that is performed by a band that doesn’t actually sing, they are just the public image.  He literally told us that what we see is an image created for the public and that it is completely fake.  And he used his beard to make this statement. Just brilliant.  I cannot praise him enough for this, stealing her moment in the sun and making her look like an utter fool, telling us just how narcissistic she is.
Also some wonderful lines from that episode that are beyond telling:
“Power, it felt good to remind Kevin that I hold power over him. You always want to be the one with power”
“p/ierce wouldn’t know where to take a shit if I didn’t tell him.”
“she is like my wife except we don’t have sex and we are friends.”
“alright boss, I am ready to record that song, but where should i take a shit?”
“You will do anything to succeed.”
Episode 8 starring “Poly Amorous and the Unicorn Guild” an episode used to shine a light on how absurd it is that people believe D&PBB lived with platonic roomie B/enny for something like 4 years.  3 grown ass adults, all of whom have money to spare lived together in a relatively small house for four years.  It is pure comedy that anyone would believe that this is normal.  But hey these are the same people that explained away the infamous arm around her while at an awards show with D looking on:
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And the cherry on top of this episode, the inclusion of C/huck (for some background, see my post here).
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I really like the one bit of dialogue between P&S, where D pretty much tells us once again that M will use anyone to get what she wants:
“Did it ever occur to you that maybe just maybe, I don’t like where we are now? There were a lot of really great things about the way things were.  Things that are worth preserving.  Not that you just take and use and through out.”
Episode 9 had some really impactful lines:
“you think i wouldn’t steal for my career? You think I wouldn’t lie?  I would do anything.”
The Neils being the nameless individuals, nothing more than a number, who are the ones who actually create the product.  And then the song, some of the translations are D telling you how he feels, because sometimes i think in terms of his public image he is just a Neil trying to escape the cage that has been built around him:
“I dream about getting away, I have been locked up in this cage wishing i could make my escape. I hate that I need you.”
And finally Episode 10, where we learn the Neils get no credit and no royalties. This reminds me of a script C wrote that never saw the light of day but suddenly the next season of AHS had the same theme as his script.
And that is all i got, if you have more please add. I think the fact that D took what he knew would be a mediocre project and projected his voice and story throughout it was pretty genius and a smart way to utilize this vehicle, that was clearly payout for so many that have used him for years and to shine a bright light on the truth.
elicc  The “perfect song”’s performer is called Bailey Rouge, a clear link to TLOS.
He is a genius.
ajw720   @elicc damn, that was on my list and I forgot. And we all know who Red is inspired by, so seems fitting Bailey Rouge would get the perfect song.
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ajw720. Just adding one more I thought about putting in my original post but admittedly think it’s a stretch. But maybe not? Just adding here for fun.
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When Theo tells P to bottle up all his romantic feelings I couldn’t help but think of a certain chapter in a book
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Oy Vei! Abby didn’t use her time away getting any therapy or perspective.  She hasn’t learned any lessons. I have no doubt she’s been reading just as much as she did before and she’s speaking to Cassie, Flowers et al all day. It’s really sad. It’s sad that she can’t see how silly she sounds, what an asshole her version of Darren is. If she could restrain herself even a little bit it might come off less unhinged because turning every single moment of Royalties into some crisscolfer wet dream reeks of desperation. 
Abby hates Royalties. In last week’s “Dear D” she had the audacity to say 
....Fans that are beyond devoted and mainly because of the way you have treated fans with respect and a level of caring that far surpasses the majority of public figures.  And while I am not enjoying the show itself, the music shows how diverse you are as a writer and how you can virtually write for anyone or any genre. The songs are fantastic.  Memorable.  And really fun.  
She knows the the Langs wrote the show and Darren wrote the songs but what she can’t seem to comprehend is that Darren IS Royalties. Everything in the show is Darren’s.  
Staying in the closet would be less painful than trying to express oneself through a short-form satirical comedy.  Can you imagine trying to express your devastation and pain through Kick Your Shoes off or Break It In? 
“I’m the king of the hard fuck....pile drive the bed like a young buck...if you like feathery shit thats pretty cool but I don’t need that...people say I fuck too soft, saying that I can’t please a woman” 
BTW Abby- “call me goldilocks bitch” isn’t a reference to TLOS it’s a reference to Goldilocks and Three Bears because because he fucks perfect, not too soft, not too hard. It’s much more believable that he is referring to a random nursery rhyme than it is to believe he is referring to a children’s book his lover/husband/boyfriend wrote 8 years ago. You might love the book but Chris has moved on and written new things. 
Darren wrote funny lyrics. I loved Kick Your Shoes Off because it’s written by a man whose watched his wife and female friends wear painful shoes for the same of fashion even though its painful as fuck.   
“Yeah, I’m a bad bitch so don’t be mad bitch. I turned the room into a catwalk like a sad bitch. I can’t feel my toes in these stilettos. when I walk out my roomate says you’ll regret those....Beauty is pain but oh I look amazing.  You won’t hear me complaining but oh my instep (inside?) is screaming...kick your shoes off (kick em off) ooooooo I do what I want..(Kick em off) ooooo Hey I can’t walk in these, blisters start to bleed now both my feet are swollen. Kick your shoes off (Kick em off).....It’s like i feel so good when my shoes are on, but like i also feel sooooo good when they are off” 
Abby’s convinced I am So Much Better Than You is straight up about Mia because Mia is in the video. She listened to it on repeat the day after it came out. In her “Letter to D” last week she said 
Especially after you made an effort to mock her for the entirety of Tuesday when her episode aired (and for the record I am still really, really proud of what you did with that episode and how you handled the roll out, that is the fighter I admire and that inspires me.  I listened to I am so much better than you on repeat on my drive home from work yesterday).   
Good Lord  The lyrics are as silly as all the other songs: “My mirror wants to bone me (but it can’t because it’s a mirror)” How did Abby miss the obvious TLOS mirror/ Halloween costume reference here?  
“You keep doing push ups while I get buff eating mac and cheese (with overpriced lobster and truffles because I’m worth it)”  
“Some people say I’m a genius (which comes from the greek work for latin) Some other people will say yeah I’m right I’m a fucking genius (I’m not saying I’m a god but I’m not saying I’m not a god). 
“And even when you sneeze, God blesses me, he blesses me. And even when you sneeze, god blesses me, he blesses me, he blesses me”
“I’m am so much better than you at everything”. 
She believes Darren would be- and stay- married to a women that he publicly ridicules and attacks. I don’t get why she thinks that is something admirable . 
She thinks Also You is referring to Ben living with them.  Where to start with this one? She says
“Episode 8 starring “Poly Amorous and the Unicorn Guild” an episode used to shine a light on how absurd it is that people believe D&PBB lived with platonic roomie B/enny for something like 4 years.  3 grown ass adults, all of whom have money to spare lived together in a relatively small house for four years.  It is pure comedy that anyone would believe that this is normal.  But hey these are the same people that explained away the infamous arm around her while at an awards show with D looking on”
I’m gobsmacked.  Also You is about Polyamory. She doesn’t even understand her own theories if she thinks that is the message Darren wants to share about Mia and Ben.  In no world would someone try to proclaim their wife was cheating on them with a live-in houseguest by writing an episode called Poly Amorous and the Unicorn Guild.  Also, someone needs to explain cuckholding to her because her theories about Ben and Mia make Darren a cuck.  
OMG I just realized that Darren is a cuck and Royalties proves it.  He hired Kether to be his costar in Royalties,...Kether is in You’re the Worst as Lindsay.  Lindsay cuckholds her husband. Bam! mic drop.   
Why isn’t Perfect Song about Mia, you know, if we are playing confirmation bias “No one is as good as you because you're my perfect song” 
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honeyopinion · 3 years
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20/20 Albums of the Year
Circles by Mac Miller  |  Hip-Hop, Soul, Funk Released: January 17, 2020
Best Album For... Pouring One Out for Mac
I wrote a few different drafts of this album summary, and none of them felt like they really fit the impossibly large bill of accurately describing the posthumous importance or brilliance of this album. If you are a fan of hip-hop or soul music of any kind, try to give this piece of work a chance. I for one, used to judge Mac based on his early frat rap days in the late 2000s. But a decade later he came to leave the world with one of the most surprising and frankly impressive artistic evolutions that I’ve been able to witness in real time. RIP Mac. 
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Start With: “Circles” or “Everybody”
Marigold by Pinegrove  |  Alternative Country and Folk Rock Released: January 17, 2020
Best Album For… Passing Through a Small Town on a Cloudy Winter Day 
Pinegrove was one of the last great concerts I got to experience before the pandemic. And it was my favorite performance of theirs from the last 6 years of seeing them play live. Is this my favorite album of theirs? Honestly, it’s not. But I still find it extremely enjoyable, and the memory of seeing these songs performed live, along with some of their classics, was enough for me to include it on this list. This is an album that marks Pinegrove’s exit from their pop punk roots. It’s still sentimental, but much more country and folk rock focused vs. anything trying to be associated with emo or punk. 
Spotify      Apple Music      YouTube      Pandora   Start With: “The Alarmist” or “No Drugs”
Watch This Liquid Pour Itself by Okay Kaya  |  Synth Pop, Art Rock, Folk Released: January 24, 2020
Best Album For… Crywanking at 3am, Bathed in The Dull Light of Your Overheating Laptop
What if Feist and Father John Misty had a secret love child? They might sound something like Okay Kaya. Self proclaimed “Singer ~ Crywanker,” Okay Kaya brings serious BDE to weirdo art pop that she seems like she could be a plant  from the mind of Nathan Fielder. Kaya delivers with such deadpan precision as she rolls out line after line of sarcastic joy, staring blankly at our dystopian reality. “Here I am, the whole world is my daddy,” “Netflix and yeast infection,” “Sex with me is mediocre,” “I just want us to do well like Jon Bon Jovi’s Rosê,” and, “My parasite and I are blushing / In the zero interaction ramen bar,” are just a few examples of some of her memorable and biting lyrics. The entire album is both a critique and nihilistic fondness for the absurdity of our lonely technological society, not quite sure how to deal with taboos like repressed female sexuality, depression, and codependency. 
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Start With: “Baby Little Tween” or “Asexual Wellbeing”
UNLOCKED by Denzel Curry and Kenny Beats  |  Hip-Hop Released: February 7, 2020
Best Album For... Nodding Your Damn Head To, Feeling Cooler Than You Actually Are
I had to double check that this was an album. Clocking in under 20 minutes, this collection of songs feels more like an EP, especially with the track titles that purposefully look like file names and placeholders. But for a short album, Denzel wastes no time, furiously zigging and zagging effortlessly over Kenny Beats’ 90s New York-indebted production (ad libs and all). Kenny pulls out samples of an array of pop culture references made by Denzel (like quotes from movies and weapon sound effects like a lightsaber) — as he rotates his flow between admirable impressions of DMX, Nas, and Joey Bada$$.
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Start With: “So.Incredible.pkg” or “DIET_”
Cardboard City by Zack Villere  |  Pop, Electronic, R&B Released: February 14, 2020
Best Album For… Pal-ing Around With Your Friends From High School, Maybe Quoting Superbad At The Same Time
The first time I watched a music video from Zack Villere, I noticed the top comment said: “how did frank ocean get trapped in mark zuckerberg.” And while that definitely gets at the heart of how Zack Villere presents himself, he is not a phenomenal singer like Frank Ocean is, nor does he come off as an asshole like Mark Zuckerberg does. I would say that he is just a slightly awkward nerdy white guy who loves hip-hop production and R&B melodies. So the better question is really, “how did drake get trapped in michael cera?” This premise should not work at all, but somehow it does. This is only Villere’s second album, but he shows some serious production and songwriting chops, plus a commitment to his delivery that comes across as genuine, charming, and unique. 
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Start With: “Grateful” or “Superhero Strength”
The Slow Rush by Tame Impala  |  Psych Rock, Synth Pop, Disco Released: February 14, 2020
Best Album For... Throwing a Silent Disco For One 
Tame Impala continues on their now 10 year streak of psych rock dominance. Along the way we’ve seen Kevin Parker master and stretch the boundaries of psychedelic production. This has resulted in his music coming as close to sounding like the best aspects of The Beatles, while also expanding into hip hop drums, R&B hooks, plus more and more electronic elements. This is an album that I was not super impressed with when it initially came out, but as we entered the pandemic and were tasked with finding small joys in staying at home all the time, I found myself going back to this album and appreciating the themes of solitude and self reflection that Parker has drawn from throughout his career.
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Start With: “Posthumous Forgiveness” or “One More Hour”
1988 by Knxwledge  |  Hip-Hop Released: March 27, 2020
Best Album For... Pumping Your Brakes and Driving Slow, Uh *Homie* Although this album is named after a year in the 80s, the sound here is a perfect portal back to 90s golden era hip-hop, with all the gospel, soul samples, and the kind of deep bass you want to feel in your chest. This is the rare, largely instrumental hip-hop album that I find myself going back to, other than works from the legendary J Dilla and MF Doom. Knxwledge is good friends and a frequent collaborator with Anderson .Paak (in the form of NxWorries). Here we get Anderson to grace us with his presence on the track “itkanbe[sonice]”, and of course it sounds just like an authentic vintage soul sample. When I hear this collection of songs it makes me wish I still had a car, so I could inevitably damage my speakers listening to this.
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Start With: “dont be afraid” or “thats allwekando.”
Future Nostalgia by Dua Lipa  |  Pop, R&B, Funk, Disco Released: March 27, 2020 Best Album For... Alarming Your Pet With Your Enthusiastic Lip Syncing
This album is a pure sugar rush. Like Bruno Mars with the help of Mark Ronson, or Calvin Harris a few years ago, Dua has harnessed a nostalgia (it’s even in the title, wink) for disco, funk and R&B, and is instantly a sexy, catchy, not-so-guilty pleasure. It’s sad that the majority of these songs are all bonafide club hits that didn’t have a proper home this year … except for my living room. And hopefully yours.
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Start With: “Pretty Please” or “Future Nostalgia”
Hold Space For Me by Orion Sun  |  Alternative R&B and Hip-Hop Released: March 27, 2020
Best Album For... Wishing Frank Ocean Was Your Dad
“Alternative R&B” is a contentious term, but what else would you call one of a few R&B singers cool enough to make it onto (NYC indie darlings) Mom+Pop Records?? On one hand, she brings the vulnerable and introverted lyrics of an indie singer songwriter like Tracey Chapman, crossed with the raw presence and sweet melodic delivery of a true R&B star like Aaliyah. I’d even go far enough to refer to her as the musical stepchild of Frank Ocean and SZA.
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Start With: “Ne Me Quitte Pass (Don’t Leave Me)” or “Lightning”
You and Your Friends by Peach Pit  |  Indie Rock and Dream Pop Released: April 3, 2020
Best Album For... Going Back To Your College Town To Crash A Party
Peach Pit seem like they would be cool dudes to hang out with. You have no problem picturing them as the band playing a house show in an indie movie about college kids. And that’s because there’s a familiarity to the scenes that their songs portray, of stumbling through your 20s, either being too dumb or having too much fun to notice. It’s funny to refer to this as “Indie” rock since this is Peach Pit’s major label debut with Columbia Records. But It has all the trappings of Indie; sticky melodies, gentle reverb, an “I’m not trying that hard” vibe, and lyrics that are oddly specific enough to be interesting, but still vague enough to be relatable.
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Start With: “Feelin’ Low (Fuckboy Blues)” or “Shampoo Bottles”
Heaven To a Tortured Mind by Yves Tumor  |  Psych Rock, Indie Pop, Post-Punk, Alternative R&B, Experimental Electronic Released: April 3, 2020
Best Album For... Tearing Up The Fucking Dance Floor With Your Hot Robot Girlfriend
If Tyler the Creator, Alex G, King Krule, and Blood Orange all got into the studio together and dropped a shit ton of acid on Halloween, their recording session might sound something like Heaven To a Tortured Mind… And even then, you still might have trouble putting your finger on exactly what you’re hearing. “Dream Palette” is a good reference track for Tumor’s most wild and mesmerizing qualities. The biggest styles of the past half century of music have been loaded into this gleefully effective genre blender, with blades of dissonance slicing everything up, creating a surrealist sonic smoothie.
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Start With: “Super Stars” or “Dream Palette”
The New Abnormal by The Strokes  |  Indie Rock, Dirtbag Disco, Synth Pop Released: April 10, 2020
Best Album For... Mixing Yourself Another Drink This Saturday Night
Back from the dead, The Strokes return with their first album in 7 years to turn some heads and settle back into some old habits. The charming messy haired garage rock of the early 2000s still pops up here and there, but this is really a record where the group is mature enough to show you that they actually are trying, and are unafraid to take joyous swings for the fences. Julian Casablancas pushes his scratchy alley cat yelp of a voice into something more vulnerable, sunny, and sweet, like he asked for a piña colada (you know, with one of those little umbrellas) instead of a double shot of scotch before hopping up on stage… Or maybe he did both. But these days, everyone is looking for some sort of break from our groundhog day lives any way that we can. Sometimes that sounds like selling out, or depending on how you look at it, stepping up. This album is the result of a group of old friends who got together to make music they simply want to make for themselves. Now far removed from the 2000s New York scene where their younger selves were acting too cool and disaffected to care about having fun.
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Start With: “Eternal Summer” or “The Adults Are Talking”
The Loves of Your Life by Hamilton Leithauser  |  Indie Rock and Alternative Country Released: April 10, 2020
Best Album For... Drinking Down At The Docks, Watching The Sun Set
While I am a fan of The Walkmen, I have no idea what their frontman Hamilton Leithauser looks like or how he dresses. But hearing these songs off of his latest solo, I imagine the following: a member of Mumford and Sons if they were edgy and cooler, giving off a “cowboy rocker meets depression-era dock worker” aesthetic. That’s exactly how his music comes off to me. It’s a convincing blend of blues rock, Americana, and old timey country music. All expertly narrated by dusty country guitars and standup bass, tarnished horns and flutes, and what I imagine to be a restored saloon piano. The Loves of Your Life originally started as a collection of short stories, each about characters based on both people he knew and strangers. Leithauser then wrote the music separately, and finally came to mix and match their parts together in a surprisingly convincing fashion to create the album.
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Start With: “Wack Jack” or “Cross-Sound Ferry (Walk-On Ticket)”
What Kinda Music by Tom Misch and Yussef Dayes  |  Neo-Soul, Electronic, Hip-Hop
Released: April 24, 2020
Best Album For... Cooking For Someone You’re In Love With
Exactly what kind of music do Tom Misch and Yussef Dayes make? It’s orchestral, it’s jazz-infused, it’s hip-hop beats joined with gentle soul. It’s a little sexy, it’s a little mysterious, and you’re going to want to listen to it a whole lot. That’s it. That’s what kind of music it is! Send tweet. 
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Start With: “What Kinda Music” or “Storm Before The Calm”
Petals For Armor by Hayley Williams  |  Electronic Pop and Art Rock Released: May 8, 2020
Best Album For... Browsing Depop for Your Next 80s Normcore ‘Fit
Hayley, Hayley, Hayley. You are too good for this wretched world!! After exploring more adventurous sounds and genre hopping over the last few Paramore records, Hayley decided to go out on her own. This really frees herself from the expectations that come along with being the face and heart of a wildly popular band for the last 15+ years. Thom Yorke fans rejoice, because Hayley Williams has a clear admiration for Radiohead’s haunting indie electronic vibe, while emoting some pain and darkness atop her love for 80s pop and art rock (think Genesis, Devo, The Talking Heads). This is a promising new avenue for Hayley to explore herself and process her pain and desire completely on her own. I see this new project of hers only blooming further from here.
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Start With: “Simmer” or “Sudden Desire” 
Set My Heart On Fire Immediately by Perfume Genius  |  Indie Pop and Art Rock Released: May 15, 2020
Best Album For... Daydreaming That You Were Somewhere Else
For his 5th studio album, Perfume Genius enlists production wizard and guitar god Blake Mills, along with Grammy Award-winning arranger and multi-instrumentalist Rob Moose to create a beautiful swirling mosaic of 80s pastel pop that also packs serious classic rock grandeur. Bass guitar dances between satin smooth lines on one song to churning distorted currents on the next. Sparkling string arrangements and organs bleed together to expose a fading sunset that you’ll want to try and hold in your hands to keep it in sight. Perfume Genius is unafraid to challenge traditional masculinity, packing a 21st century queer machismo into both the quiet moments and jubilant explosions.
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Start With: “Without You” or “Describe”
græ by Moses Sumney  |  Indie Pop, Art Rock, Neo-Soul, Psychic Folk Released: May 15, 2020
Best Album For... Astral Projection 101 
I mean this in the best way possible, but I think that Moses Sumney is a witch. Or maybe a wizard? There’s no other reasonable explanation for the level of creativity and wonder that he summons. This album feels like a private concert by a waterfall (similar to one on the cover), with ethereal pleas, and heavy ideas—like meditating on what lies beyond the constraints of the physical self and reconsidering how well we can actually trust memory and the mind. Sumney layers his voice to create the effect of a ghostly choir, accented by a stark intimidating falsetto that reverberates through the ruins of an abandoned temple where Sumney is the only one in attendance.
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Start With: “Cut Me” or “Polly”
WILL THIS MAKE ME GOOD by Nick Hakim  |  Psychedelic Neo-Soul Released: May 15, 2020
Best Album For... Playing Pool in a Hazy Dive Bar
Nick Hakim is a silky smooth smokey crooner who paints with warbly piano loops, dreamy reverb-heavy guitar, boom bap beats—not to mention a falsetto that would make Smokey Robinson jealous. Clearly a fan of Motown and 60s jazz, Hakim could be considered a peer of Thunder Cat and Anderson .Paak’s to a degree. I remember seeing him perform at Music Hall of Williamsburg a few years ago. The performance ended with him falling down on stage (presumably from being under the influence of multiple substances). But while the song continued he popped back up and belted an impressive high note like it was nothing, drink in hand. And it’s that kind of messy beauty that also makes this album so engrossing. Like watching the eye of the storm get closer and closer, but unable to look away from the sheer magnetism that nature can wield.
Spotify      Apple Music      YouTube      Pandora  Start With: “All THESE CHANGES” or “ALL THESE INSTRUMENTS”
RTJ4 by Run The Jewels  |  Hip-Hop Released: June 3, 2020
Best Album For... Making Your Next Protest Sign
Run The Jewels’ fourth outing might be the most unapologetically angry rap album in the “fuck this” year of 2020. And it reminded me that I should absolutely still be furious about everything that happened during this groundbreaking yet terrifyingly familiar year: country wide protests over the continued murder of innocent black people at the hands of the police, government drone strikes and detaining kids in cages, the state of our environment worsening—and that’s not even addressing the pandemic or election. Killer Mike and El-P are here to scream from the rooftops that our current system of cutthroat capitalism and white supremacy is killing the planet and its inhabitants, and I’m glad that they’re using their platform to continue to sound the alarm.
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Start With: “out of sight” or “ooh la la”
Your Hero Is Not Dead by Westerman  |  New Wave Revival and Indie Pop Released: June 5, 2020 Best Album For... Wanting Your Old School MTV
The cover of Westerman’s first proper album is mostly black and white, except for the title, which is scrawled out in lettering which spans the Crayola color spectrum. It’s an album that on the surface is cold and buttoned up, but when these choruses open up, the maximalist 80s power pop bursts like the bulbs of a neon sign. There’s a level of even-keeled cool and confidence in small moments on display here that makes this relatively new artist seem well beyond his years. Having seen him play at Rough Trade a few years ago (opening up for the stellar Puma Blue), the songwriting growth on display on this record is impressive. I’m only sad that there wasn’t an opportunity to have seen him play these new songs live.
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Start With: “Easy Money” or “Confirmation (SSBD)” 
Punisher by Phoebe Bridgers  |  Indie Rock and Alternative Country Released: June 18, 2020
Best Album For... Burning Incense and Breaking Out a Ouija Board to Talk to The Ghost of Your Former Self
This is without a doubt, a career defining release for Phoebe. Taking everything she’s learned from writing, performing, and touring with the likes of Lucy Dacus and Julien Baker (in boygenius), and Conor Oberst (in Better Oblivion Community Center), Bridgers levels up to become the truly prolific singer-songwriter she’s been telling us she would always be. Bridgers has explained her personal definition of “a punisher” as a well meaning person who’s, “just talking to you and they don’t realize that your eyes are glazed over and you’re trying to escape.” Vital to understanding this album and its central message is that Phoebe finds herself caught between the contradiction of falling victim to this phenomenon while also doing it herself, especially if she ever met her musical idol, Elliott Smith. Punisher serves as a warning to her audience that if you focus too much on trying to find yourself through other people (via escaping through fandom, drugs, toxic relationships), you’ll always feel lost and dissatisfied, without the proper self awareness to ever quite know why. 
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Start With: “Garden Song” or “ICU”
Women In Music Pt. III by HAIM  |  Rock, Pop, Folk, R&B Released: June 26, 2020
Best Album For... Preparing For A Better 2021, lol 
With this album, HAIM skyrocketed to the #1 position of family bands that start with an “H.” Sorry, Hanson! But seriously, HAIM has outdone themselves on this one. If there was one album from this list that I would dub my personal AOTY, this would be it. You might wince at any tracklist longer than 10-12 songs these days (I know I usually do), but almost every song proves itself worthy, pulling at a different thread of my heart until there’s nothing left. Sunshine State Beach Pop? Check. Blues Tinged Dad Rock? Yup! Dive Bar Country? Mmhmm! No, wait, what’s that you say, Glitched-Out R&B? Yes, yes, and yes. You can have it all, sister! ‘Cause when you’re Haim, you’re family! ;) And these three “women in music” continue to prove that they are just about the best Assorted Pop Rocks(™) act in the world right now.
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Start With: “I’ve Been Down” or “Don’t Wanna”
Lianne La Havas by Lianne La Havas  |  Neo-Soul and Indie Pop Released: July 17, 2020
Best Album For... Sipping Coffee and Journaling on a Weekend Morning
This album exudes a warm vulnerability, like a comforting hug we all needed this year. On her third album, Lianne La Havas makes the risky decision to self title it, a move that artists make when they believe that it is the piece of work that they most want most directly associated with their name. It’s one thing to name your first album after yourself if you can’t think of anything else at the time, but to make a self titled album in the middle of your career, it means that you are sure about having captured who you really are and who you want people to remember you as. “If I love myself, I know I can't be no one else,” La Havas admits on the standout track, “Paper Thin.” She knows that she will meet her destiny and reach self actualization, but only through self love. And finally, I cannot overstate how breathtaking La Havas’s voice comes across on this album. The strength and control on display in her vocal tone and vibrato is quite a spectacle. 
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Start With: “Paper Thin” or “Sour Flower”
Limbo by Aminé  |  Hip-Hop and R&B Released: August 7, 2020
Best Album For... Trying and Get Over Kanye With
On Limbo, Aminé establishes himself as one of the torchbearers of soul-sampling, lyrics-driven hip-hop that still cares about storytelling, skits, and presenting vocals clearly. Kanye West, Drake, and J. Cole all paved the way for someone from the next generation like Aminé to keep the dream alive and avoid succumbing to the “feel good, don’t think” form of passive listening that mumble rap has made the standard for mainstream hip-hop.
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Start With: “Pressure In My Palms” or “My Reality”
Shore by Fleet Foxes  |  Folk and Indie Rock Released: September 22, 2020
Best Album For... Running Along The Beach With Your Arms Stretched Out
It was really kind of Robin Pecknold and co. to have released an album this triumphant, calming, and awe-inspiring during the year of our Lorde 2020. On behalf of myself and anyone else who suffers from Seasonal Affective Disorder, the SAD people of the world really needed this, man. And to anyone who is quick to judge these beard-o’s of being boring, you’re simply not using your ears properly. Yeah, you know those two things on either side of your head? Get the gunk out of them! That way you’ll hear the choir of angels with acoustic guitars who are here to guide us through quarantine and beyond. 
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Start With: “Can I Believe You” or “A Long Way Past The Past” 
Listen to all of these albums together in our playlist.
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yowlthinks · 4 years
Text
As Epistolary Novels Go
**1 May 2020**
Crowley hang up and stared at his phone. Did Aziraphale just call him up to check that he was making mischief and then imply the invitation to his bookshop? Yes, yes, he did, the fluffy bastard was at his game again: suggesting an idea and then waiting for Crowley to pick up on it, making it all seem as if Aziraphale had nothing to do with it. Well, this time Crowley was having none of it, he was either getting a direct invitation to come over, or having a good long sleep at his place. As disappointing as the conversation turned out to be, Aziraphale (who called first, mind you!) would come round eventually, and a good long nap never harmed nobody.
Crowley aimlessly wandered around his apartment, watered the plants, imprinting on them how a two month stretch without watering and supervision was NOT an excuse for a lowered performance, and finally settled in bed. He figured he'd play a bit on his phone and call it a night.
At 10pm precisely a cup of hot cocoa and a plate of biscuits materialised on his nightstand with a soft pop. A note in Aziraphale's neat handwriting landed beside them:
«Good night, Crowley.
Sleep well and dream of whatever you like best.
Yours,
Aziraphale
P.S.: Perhaps we could go for that picnic when you wake up?»
- Hah! A peace offering then. You insufferable bastard… Whatever I like best indeed…
Crowley finished the cocoa and nibbled on the biscuits, they were in fact very good. Finally, he set the alarm clock for the 1st of July, 12pm precisely, and settled against the pillows. As he closed his eyes one big red apple and a note in squiggly handwriting landed on Aziraphale's desk.
«Eat some fruit Angel, it's good for you. Goes well in picnic baskets too.
X
Crowley»
**1 July 2020**
Crowley always liked a good nap, not only because it offered a chance to switch off from the busy reality, but also because of how nice it felt to fall asleep and especially to wake up. His alarm clock, knowning what's best for itself started gently vibrating. It figured a while ago that sound was not actually the best way to wake Crowley up, but vibrations appealed to his snake part and did a good job in ensuring a pleasant awakening. Crowley switched it off and started stretching his limbs one by one. Important things, limbs, very useful, shouldn't forget to activate all of them… as he turned his head towards the nightstand to give his neck a good stretch too, a neat pile of letters came into view. They were definitely not there when he fell asleep two months ago.
Crowley set up against the headboard and gingerly picked up the topmost letter: expensive stationery, neat handwriting and an elaborate seal on green wax all pointed to the only person who could have sent this (not that pointers were needed, Aziraphale was pretty much the only one who sent him letters). He opened the envelope and read the note:
~5 May 2020~
My dear Crowley,
While you sleep, I thought I might write to you from time to time to compensate for the lack of conversation. I hope you do not mind these notes and have had a very resting sleep by the time you read this.
Yours,
Aziraphale.
~
Crowley looked at the pile of envelopes and had a distinct feeling that he was about to read what is called an 'epistolary novel'. He knew Aziraphale was partial to this type of fiction, despite him actively denying the said fact (Crowley found the angel's secret book stash in that particular genre ages ago and noticed how especially well-used their spines were, and how well-stocked that section of the bookshop always seemed.) It was clear Aziraphale decided to ceise the oportunity to produce one of his own. He piled a couple more pillows behind himself and set out to read the notes.
~8 May 2020~
Hello Crowley,
You must be deep asleep already, while I find myself wondering how your plants are doing and how they will survive your nap. You did not mention neededing help watering them, so I presume you made other arrangements. For the record, on future occasions I would be delighted to take care of them at any time.
Yours,
Aziraphale
~
~15 May 2020~
Hello my dear boy,
Yet another week of self-isolation has gone by. I have switched to baking savoury now. This week I have finally mastered that old Quiche recipe! You remember we had quiche in that lovely cafe in Lille back in 1815 and you persuaded them to share the recipe with me? It came out really well, I will make it again when you wake up, so you can try it and give me your honest opinion. Otherwise, not much news on my side, just progressing along my reading list, you know how it is.
Yours,
Aziraphale
~
~22 May 2020~
Hello Crowley,
It is yet again a Friday evening and I find myself a little out of sorts. Perhaps, the lockdown is starting to get to me after all. I have not seen a human up close since that incident with burglars and I must admit I miss the conversation. Not with the burglars, you understand, not even with humans in general (I would be lying if I said I miss the customers), I miss cinversation with you, most specifically.
I do not think I ever said this to you before, not outright anyway, but I do enjoy your company, very much. I did not realise how very lucky I have been these past years, seeing you as often as I did and having a chance to dine and drink together whenever we wished, even despite the usual precautions.
I am very much looking forward to our picknick when you wake up.
Missing you,
Aziraphale
~
~29 May 2020~
My dear Crowley,
It is almost June, and I must say that I am glad for it, it seems that things are getting a little better in terms of the pandemic, but not really better in terms of how things are overall. We have seen protests, wars and revolutions, so it is nothing new, but it does not make it any easier to witness, does it?
It looks like yet another string has finally snapped. I do hope this is a start of a change for the better, but I am glad you are sleeping through this bit of it. I know how you dislike violence. I am saving notes of some good-natured chaos around the world for you, though, so that you can enjoy reading them when you wake up.
I so wish we could discuss all this in person, I hope we can do so soon.
Yours,
Aziraphale
~
~5 June 2020~
My dear Crowley,
Yet another week has passed I have heard in the news today they are discussing relaxing the rules a bit, forming 'social bubbles' as they call it. A 'social bubble' is several small households closely connected by social bonds, the idea is to allow people to meet up with close friends, especially if they live alone, for mutual suport and mental health reasons.
I think it is safe to say you are truly the only person in my social bubble. Is it not silly, how it took a major pandemic event for me to be able to say this out loud, or as it were, in writing? Yet again, I find that I have to apologise to you for being so slow to acknowledge this, I should have really been braver…
Oh look at this, me getting all silly, you will probably read this and be annoyed at how sappy my writing got. Apologies for this, dear boy, I promise I will be better in person: in expressing myself and also in making it clear how important your friendship is to me.
Missing you something terrible and starting to plan for our picknick,
Yours,
Aziraphale.
~
~12 June 2020~
My dear Crowley,
Another week, another letter to you. I have kept myself busy re-ordering the additions that Adam made and even reading through a few of them. I must admit, some are very gripping and I am grateful for him adding them to my collection. As you know, they are all first editions, so a good investment for the future, I am sure.
This made me think of how events and people in our lives curate what happens to is, what we come across and notice. I habe now ckme to the cinclusion that I should finally show you a little secret stash of books I kept for a special reason, I expect you'd be both amused and exasperated by my choices and my reasons for making them. I can't wait to see your reaction to it!
It is almost the middle of June, not long to wait now!
Yours,
Aziraphale
~
~21/22 June 2020~
My dearest Crowley,
The solstice came and went, so I have spent the longest day of the year reading and thinking of what we should do next year, circumstances permitting, on that day. You know, I realised I quite fancy joining in the crowd and spending the night among those ancient stones. Ancient relics like us belong together. We might even do the old silly abandoning of the shape and sizes, go really small and sit on top of one of those arches…
Oh, I should let you know that your absence is not doing me good: drinking alone is not fun, yet today I couldn't help it. It is such a nice evening and it has been such a long day, and I thought if I don't have you here to share ot with me, I moght drink and write this and it would be as if we are sharing a bottle or two (or five? Or is it seven now?) and talking.
So yes, where was I? Ah, Stonehenge… Imagine sunset, sitting on top of one of those stone arches, perhaps we come on the day just after the Summer Solstice, or just on any other day when it is deserted and have it all to ourselves. When was the last time we watched the sunset? It must have been just after that fateful, frightening day of Apocawasn't as you call it. This would not do, we should have another go at watching the sunset together. Let our wings out, pour some wine… The sun would go down and paint everything red and orange, like your hair! And the orange will catch in your wings too (and they are beautiful, your wings, they truly are!). And maybe mine will go a bit orange-pink too, the sunset will colour us together.
This is the wine-talking, I know, but I believe I am allowed to be sappy sometimes. I am an angel, after all, I am made to love! You know what, in fact I think it is wrong for angels to claim they are the only beings made to love. Everyone is made to love, otherwise they would not be capable of that feeling. Love is not a task, or a chore, it is a choice! So does that mean that when you gave humans free will, you also enabled them to choose love? Oh, I can see your eyebrows raising when you read this, but fear not, once you are awake again, we will get throuoghly inebriated together and discuss it properly! That's our next profound discussion topic (oh, how I miss our profound discussions!)
The other day I did something that I feel would make you proud. I was thinking of all those times you brought chaos to the world, and about what we did with the arrangement, and what you might do had you been awake now. And I thought, well, why don't I do something? You know, I have always been in awe of how imaginative your plans are. You know,the bigger ones, the really inspired ones with a proper vision. Remember how you rehearsed the M25 presentation with me? It was impressive, and you were so proud of it, I did not have the heart to thwart you, you old snake! And how you helped me with that blasted millenial assignement – they still hail Wikipedia as one of the greatest achievements (which it is)! So yes I might have sent some divine inspiration to some activists, but because I was thinking of you (when am I not thinking of you?) it turned out to be one of the most beautiful chaos disruptions of wrongness in the world I have ever seen! I mean, of course it was all done by humans, but I am terribly proud of what my littke nudge achieved. I have saved the news clippings in my word file and will show you once you wake up!
Do you know how often I look at the calendar these days? I am almost tempted to cross out the remaining days till July. And you did not even say when in July you are planning to wake up. Far be it from me to disturb you, I have brought you enough pain and inconvenience as it is, but I just hope it will be soon. The humans are on to something with all this 'social bubble' talk, and without you I have no bubble. It is lonely, Crowley, and this loneliness is starting to suffocate me.
Please wake up soon.
Please?
I miss you so much.
Forever yours, if you'll have me,
X
Aziraphale
~~
Crowley reread the letter twice. He even pinched himself to see of he was still dreaming, but no, the letter was real, and the text in it was real, all be it awkwardly slanted and smudged in places, especially towards the end.
Just three more letters remained on his night stand. He'd better finish reading them and fast.
~~
~23 June 2020~
Dear Crowley,
Please forgive my drunken ramblings in the last letter. I even tried to retrieve it back, but it refused to leave your nightstand.
I do not regret saying the things I said in that letter, I only wish I could say some of them to your face first. You deserve so much better then a drunken letter.
So let me at least tell you, in sober mind:
I MISS YOU
I WAS WRONG TO TURN DOWN YOUR SUGGESTON TO COME OVER
And that I am indeed forever yours.
Please wake up soon,
Aziraphale
~
~26 June 2020~
My dearest Crowley,
Just five more days and it will be July.
I promised myself to not drink anything stronger then cocoa since the last incident, but I have indeed started preparing our little picknick basket: some white wine, apples, and pears and some other things…
Yours,
Aziraphale
~
~30 June 2020~
My dearest Crowley,
I am writing this as the month of June is coming to an end. It went both fast and too slow (does that even make sense?!), and I am hoping that you wake up soon.
Please call me when you do. Or just come over.
Slither over to watch me eat cake,
Come and share my wine with me (or bring yours, whatever you want).
YOU ARE ALWAYS WELCOME, my door is never closed for you (it has not been for centuries, and it will never be, I promise you that.)
Please wake up, I miss you so much.
Yours,
Aziraphale
~~~
- Hello Angel, how have you been? – Crowley swaggered into the bookshop not bothering to hide his smile.
Whirlwind of tartan and white feathers enveloped him, and Crowley found himslef in a tight hug.
- Hello, you old romantic.
- Hello, my dear.
- Loved your letters, but I am never going to publish them. Not even under a pen name, they are mine and mine alone.
- What..?
- You'll have me, though, forever and ever. How's that for an exchange?
- Sounds fair to me. Now, shall I show you my news clippings? I think you'd rather like them.
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thedeadflag · 6 years
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Hey, I have a question, if you don't mind. I wanted to write a fic with lgbt characters in medieval times, and the main problem I can't find a way around is that, from my researches, a very important aspect in medieval times, at least among nobility, were heirs, and without modern technology, most mlm and wlw can't have children without involving a third person. Now, I could use magic, but in the world I'm using magic is rare, and so it wouldn't be a universal solution. Can you help me?
P.S.: The reason I need a universal solution is that the characters want to overthrow the current regime, and among the changes they would legalize homesexual relationships P.S.2: Also, I’ve done some research on the topic, but any info you can give me on trans people on medieval times would be appreciated
Okay, so you might not like my answer to this but I’m kind of going to be a little frank with you on this.
I’ll touch on the magic bit first because it’s less important, but might address an issue of perspective here and what kind of creative freedoms you’re willing to allow yourself, and which you’re not, for whatever reason.
I’m not sure why you are where you’re at re: magic pregnancies. I don’t see why it’s not also a solution when…if you’re going to play on the statistics of magic being rare as a reason for it not being a universal solution…so are lgbtq+ folks, and our relationships, at least in contrast to the cishet masses. A spell existing to help lgbtq+ folks specifically with fertility in cases where they feel it’s necessary…its use wouldn’t be any more common than magic in general in such a world. So why not allow it? 
What kind of solution did you come to me looking for? If magic is off the table, and you seem locked in on the notion of two people creating life on their own in some manner of way, then…what exactly are you trying to get from me in regards to trans folks in medieval times? Like, you’re specifically bringing up trans folks in the context of fertility, pregnancy, family-building, etc., so I could draw some very common and overdone conclusions that I’ve already written at length about, but I’m not going to tread into those waters yet again, at least not today.
I want to remind you that this is a universe you’re building. “Medieval” is a term concocted in the 19th century to describe a loose collection of societies and shared elements within a loose range of centuries. You transgressing one of those common elements (homophobia) by pushing for a social endgame friendly to mlm and wlw, or by adding magic of all damn things, is no more difficult to do than transgressing the somewhat common element of bloodlines in determining ancestry.
You’re looking at this from a skewed perspective (perhaps one informed by cissexism, as is all too common). One that you are entitled to keep holding if you really want to, but it’s not necessary, and it’s adding far too much work onto your plate when there’s a very simple solution to your problem that doesn’t involve using trans folks as fertility devices as many folks tend to do.
Yes, heirs in families of status was important in a general sense. Being of shared ancestral blood was not always so necessary. “Birthright”-based stories in fantasy genre media and fairy tales have led a lot of people to some skewed perspectives on what life was like in the past. 
Are you aware that adoption was something that happened within such families when heirs could not be produced between partners? IIRC Marcus Aurelius was adopted into status to provide an heir. Sure, that was Roman times, but I’m 99% sure other such families did the same in the middle age periods that you’re seeking to emulate.
I mean, how else do you think the Catholics got so deeply entrenched into the adoption business? It was part imperialism/assimilation, absolutely, but it was also a way to keep Catholic family trees going strong regardless of fertility. Sure, some in nobility decided a solution was to find another more fertile partner, but adoption was a thing back then. Maybe not like, in the highest echelons of royals, but certainly within nobility still. It’s not a stretch to alter rules of succession to more openly approve of adopted children being heirs. 
So yeah, a really easy (and historically feasible, if that’s at all importantin your worldbuilding) solution is adoption
I also know that there’s a lot of tension in fandom around the building of family units in our creative works. People have long been taught to attach certain meanings and feelings and morals with certain types of family-building, and that has long leaked into fanworks. 
Hell, g!p exists as a category in some degree as a fetishistic solution for folks to use trans women’s bodies in a scientifically inaccurate way as a means of creating biological children, all to establish a family narrative and the associated intimacy. In short, people value families where one partner was impregnated and gave birth more than other options involved.
Adopted children in fanworks, much like their real life counterparts, are often devalued and not seen as ‘real’ or ‘worthy’ members of a family unit, and that’s shitty. We need more positivity in fanworks around adoption, and I say that as a writer who could also do better on that front, something I hope to improve on in future works.
So yeah,.if your universe is capable of having lgbtq+ folks’ relationships accepted by the end of the narrative, if you’re willing to infuse magic into a loose translation of middle ages mythology, then you can 1000% bring in some adoption to your narrative as a solution to the issue you brought up given it’d be the most historically accurate worldbuilding element out of the three. There’s no need to tread over to trans people in search of a solution to a problem that doesn’t really need solving, certainly not through trans characters. 
And if you’re already going to be supporting mlm and wlw in your narrative, and allowing magic, I sincerely hope you’re also including some form of transition-related treatment for trans and NB folks. Because we all know that it would be irresponsible and transphobic not to in an AU that by all means could and should have that included due to not being strictly historically bound into a specific time period here on earth. That should, of course, go without saying, but I did feel a need to tack it on just to cover all bases here.
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ryewi · 6 years
Text
When I’m With You I’m In Utopia [Chapter 8]
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Summary:  9 years ago, the world split in two halves, Utopia and Dystopia. One of the laws allows citizens of both worlds to visit the other once in their lifetime, for a whole week, after which, they’re forced to return home. If by any chance, they don’t return, a death punishment is sentenced. Jeon Jungkook, a citizen of Dystopia seemed to be desperate enough to challenge that exact law.
Genre: Utopia!au, Dystopia!au, fluff, angst, drama, to be added~~
Words: 1,6k
Warning: confrontation if you squint? is that even a  w a r n i n g  idk people can be anxious of confrontation
< Previous | Part Eight | Next >
Faith’s morning routine was never the same, although she tried to maintain a lame kind of a timeline, something always came up. Obviously, this time not being any different, instead of heading towards the kitchen, Faith’s feet carried her to a spare bedroom. There, under baby blue covers, laid a motionless Jungkook. He was shirtless, protruding collarbones throwing a low shadow down on to his neck. Jungkook’s arm was tightly wrapped with what seemed a thousand layers of gauze.  
Faith would’ve closed the door and left the other to sleep, only if his head hadn’t turned towards her, lips pulling up into a slight smile. The underside of his eyes puffed up and if they didn’t already look like crescent moons, they did now. Shortly, Jungkook was magnificent. His dark locks were all over the place, a few of them even standing up tall as if fixed with hairspray.
“Morning”  
It took a moment for her to realize Jungkook was the source of such a deep and groggy voice. With revelation evident on her face, Faith only nodded along, still stunned by this ideal human laying before her. Jungkook didn’t seem to mind since, he too, found the creature he’s currently looking at perfect.
Her thighs were covered by an oversized t-shirt, feet protected with a pair of fluffy slippers, little blue bears drawn on them. Hair thrown in a messy bun, face features soft and sleepy, gaze intoxicating. Faith was gorgeous.
“I-I’m going to prepare breakfast in a moment, you c-can take the bathroom while I do so” She said, stumbling over her own words when Jungkook sat up, a piece of toned abdomen showing. Choosing to escape the soon-to-be-awkward scene, Faith turned around, swiftly jogging towards the kitchen.  
The boy took his dear time, stretching and yawning, picking up a new outfit from the bag and walking towards Faith’s bathroom. When he passed by a small room Faith was in, he made sure to greet the other, just so he could see her blush slightly.  
While preparing a few baked egg boats, simple and quick breakfast, Faith took the time to finally wake up properly and recall yesterday events. Everything happened fairly quick, so it was only natural that it bugged one's mind. She couldn't really believe any piece of memory that appeared in her head, especially the feeling of Jungkook's lips on hers.
The kiss.
It was obvious that sooner or later, purposely or not, the topic was going to be brought up. Faith didn't know if she should be dreading that moment, or bring it up as fast as possible. It will end up one of many ways and it wasn’t guaranteed that any of them was the path she wanted to take.
In the midst of thinking, Jungkook managed to sneak behind her back, hands softly wrapping around the tender waist of the other. Faith jerked for a quick second, touch still foreign on her body.  
"The breakfast is rea-ready, please take a seat" Motioning towards a small six-chaired table beside them, Faith untangled Jungkook's arms that were representing a strong cage around an intoxicated animal. The male only nodded, walking the distance in three long strides, his legs now covered by a tight pair of skinny light blue jeans. Apart from the jeans, he wore a white shirt with yellow rolled up sleeves.  
Faith only sighed in content as she carefully placed the food on a big plate. Serving that, with two glasses and a few types of drinks, she sat down and began munching, numerous flavors exploding in her mouth. Jungkook was yet to try the first bite, as he seemed busy enough staring at a person next to him with calm eyes. Faith of course felt uncomfortable, being the center of attention never appealed to her.
"We need to talk" Jungkook blurted out, seemingly out of nowhere, sending a wave of anxiety to crash onto the smaller. She lowered down the piece of food in her hands, eyes now trained onto the man whose face suddenly expressed no emotion.  
"I do believe so too, you have the pleasure of speaking up first" Faith tried to play it off cool, using formal and educated form of speech with no apparent reason. To her sudden change of demeanor, Jungkook burst into a fit of giggles, his female companion once again experiencing confusion.
"You're adorable, but that's not what we're going to talk about" He began, smile still playing around on his lips. That comment made Faith relax slightly, sitting back comfortably on her wooden chair.
"I just feel like we need to clear up what happened yesterday and I don't mean to make thing's awkward" Faith appreciated the fact that Jungkook isn't a beat-around-the-bush person, he is straightforward and truthful, which she was thankful for. Listening to each word carefully, Faith watched the way his lips moved swiftly, how the pair of eyebrows lifted to emphasize certain parts of speech.
"The kiss, well, that's on you to explain, but we're honest with each other and it's already obvious that it wasn't a platonic action" He laughed and watched how her cheeks abruptly turned pink. She was adorable. "But I also feel like it was a heat of a moment thing, that it still needs time".
"If we really are," Jungkook paused, stretching awkward silence to its limits, searching for a proper term to voice out his thoughts, "compatible, then we shouldn't rush it like this".  
Faith kind of disagreed with what the other was talking about, feelings towards him being the main reason why he's still alive and breathing. It was only fair if she had some use of her cause, but Jungkook's distant explanation and ideas created a low opacity line between them.
That kind of behavior was a quick slap to Faith's face. An immediate thought flying in and she gave it only a moment to think about. What if he's only using me to survive through this?
Jungkook wouldn't do that, she thought, Kook isn't like that. Then again, a man like him had a reason to do so, not because he is Jeon Jungkook, but because he is a Dystopian. Dystopians would risk their all and this being a one in ten million chances, of course one would play it off just to survive. It's extremely reasonable and Faith spaced out, nodding while the other continued talking, not paying attention to any of his words. He wouldn't, would he?
Jungkook seemed to go on and on; between the lines Faith caught on to sentences like "it might still be too fast", "we should figure it out properly" and "focusing on not being killed is what's the most important". Whenever there were any suggestions, she shrugged with her shoulders, not really caring anymore, as the same question repeated on and on. It suffocated her, wrapped strong hands around Faith's brain and prevented it from working properly.
Just like the will for listening disappeared, Faith's appetite ran away with it too. She picked up the small porcelain plate, throwing away a piece of her breakfast. Jungkook scrunched up his eyebrows, analyzing swift movements of the other. Puffs of air and sighs that came out of her mouth, were an evidence of discomfort and annoyance, yet she wasn't sure what was their cause.
Was she really rushing stuff? Was she too greedy, wanting everything at once? Jungkook's diplomatic arguments were strong, but it also could've been an illusion created by this ex law student. Although there were many doubts within her way of acting too, Faith still continued to push her own logic.
People should work on their feelings for each other, not 'give it time'. Giving time to a certain kind of emotions could lead to them disappearing. You don't like someone to eventually walk up to them and say "hey stop acknowledging my fondness towards you, that'll help me fall in love".  
"What are your thoughts on that, do you agree?" Jungkook asked, curious about Faith’s answer to another one of the questions she didn’t care enough to listen to. He was now leaning against the table, hands crossed over his wide chest. Eyes fixed onto the other, he anticipated something that would approve his way of thinking.
"Actually, no I don't" Faith replied, voice strong and authoritative, taking the man by surprise, "how about that?"
Jungkook was obviously dumbfounded, the fact that his ideal scenario wasn't approved slightly bothering him. It was somewhat intriguing to find out why she wasn't positive of it. Jungkook quickly distanced himself from his previous location, caging the other between a black counter and his strong body. Faces approximately four inches away from each other, he tried again.
"What do you suggest to do then, darling?"  
Those few words were able to make Faith's heart a squish the instant they were voiced out loud. Jungkook‘s lips looked so kissable once again, pink and slightly parted, something that looked like a trace of a smirk decorating them. Yet the weak poison overlining darling served as a ringtone that woke her up.
Putting a palm on Jungkook's chest, she pushed him back, right eyebrow raised in exasperation.  
"Just because you take your feelings for granted, doesn’t mean you’re allowed to do the same to mine, darling”
Turning around and walking away, Faith made a beeline towards her room, stopping just a step away from the entrance to look back at the older. Jungkook was currently wide eyed, lips still parted, but this time because of a completely new reason. It was obvious that he didn’t expect anything similar to what he got in return to a fairly cocky remark. But it was probably what he deserved.
"Think about that and then we will talk again Jungkook"
AN: ATTENTION! I’m going to the seaside between 1-4am on Saturday (so, way too early), which means I won’t be able to update a new chapter before I go. I don’t have my writings on my phone so Utopia will be put on hold until I come back home. I’ll try to write new scenarios while I’m there, but they won’t be connected to When I’m with you I’m in Utopia. Ain’t No Time pt.2 maybe ;)?
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flashlighto · 6 years
Text
The format of Hito Steyerl’s Lovely Andrea (29’43”, 2007), a short film commissioned for Documenta 12, ostensibly falls under the umbrella of the essay documentary genre. In that space, the work indeed documents an interview-based research process from the perspective of a tangible and bodied subjectivity, but it is perhaps better playfully described by one of its interview subjects, the editor of Sanwa Erotica, Matsumoto Yutaka, upon hearing the basic premise: “That’s a nice mystery novel. It’s mysterious, it sounds good.” In the film, Steyerl introduces her search for a published photo series of herself as a Shibari bondage S/M model taken in 1987 while studying as a film student in Tokyo. This central goal drives her research forward, but despite that apparent clarity and objective-based approach, the film both begins and ends with her as interview subject being asked “What is your film about?” The audience is repeatedly prodded to answer this question, arriving at a place that considers the broader paradigms of global power (reference appendix images A, B), through which bondage pornography might merely reveal some libidinal echoes of an underlying ideological infrastructure that bleeds out into global deployments of Imperialist Capitalism.
Steyerl’s archived images are the subject of the search, but the film’s central figure is Asagi Ageha, Steyerl’s translator as the search moves from Germany to Japan and also a bondage performer with her performance partner, Osada Steve. Steyerl and Asagi follow a trail from fetish studio to fetish studio, connecting the dots between a seemingly small community of male ropemasters that were active in S/M publishing in the 80s, they slowly narrow down the possibilities of the photographer and magazine in which it might have appeared. In a twist on the typical role of “translator as invisible intermediary,” their search is repeatedly put on hold as Asagi is directly addressed by members of the studio. A studio assistant at their first destination, Sanwa Erotica, asks, “Aren’t you a model, Ageha?” The ropemaster offers, “If you want a bondage picture of yourself, I will tie you up.” Asagi replies, “It’s maybe a good idea!” as the whole studio laughs. The film breaks into a montage of Asagi taking her shirt off and being bound by the ropemaster.
In the midst of the search, various editors describe the psychological space of S/M as it functions for both performer and studio. From one editor, Japanese S/M is described as being based on submissiveness, on offering the performer an opportunity to experience shame. Another German editor explains that some of his performers would tell you that they like to see rope marks on their skin, while others would say they enjoy the feeling of floating as they are suspended above the ground, “Only when being roped I feel free.” This sentiment seems to be a motif in BDSM, and parallels a line from Pauline Reage’s 1954 Story of O, “The chains and the silence, which should have bound her deep within herself, which should have smothered her, strangled her, on the contrary freed her from herself.“
Within these descriptions, Ropemaster Nureki Chimuo explains the relationship of these studios to the Japanese legislature while voicing over a photoshoot of a woman with her arms tied behind her back in chic business woman garb, “Back then there were lots of restrictions… It was best when [the police] were extremely bothersome.” Nureki explains that they ought to operate as if they always have these same restrictions but never quite clarifies if this is because those conditions forced the studios to be more creative in their operations, or if it was the illicit nature of the media that increased their audience’s desire for the media. Something to note here: through the description of the studio’s relationship with the state, the audience finds the studio manager describing a power dynamic that becomes a direct projection of the internal dynamic that is roleplayed in front of the camera lens. In this echoed restriction, the studios enjoy being dominated by the police. Through that description, a fractal structure of power is constructed, submission echos from the micro to the macro with an implication of recursiveness ad infinitum. Within that structure, as Nureki says, “The more restrictions the better.” (Reference appendix image C).
This theoretical fractal structure is reinforced with a series of playful associative video transitions that imply a much broader presence of explicit and implicit domination in a global setting. Inclusions of Depeche Mode’s 1984 single Master and Servant (one of many ‘70s and ‘80s punk and pop singles that populate Lovely Andrea’s soundtrack) leads to a chorus with corresponding title cards that exclaim, Let’s play master and servant; it’s a lot like life! This simple libidinal request becomes a central theme that is rearticulated throughout the film. In conversation, Asagi asks Ropemaster Osada to clarify a point about S/M, “You mean in a normal society, everything is bondage?” Osada responds by describing the web that he imagines connecting and binding everyone in “society” before the audience returns to transitions between footage from the 1960s animated Spiderman and the 2002 live-action Spiderman with scenes which depict broad webs stretching between buildings and collecting various vehicles and people. With repeated insertions of pop media as soundtrack and transition, there is an implication that pop media of this sort may also be a function of domination in a global setting.
There are multiple threads that emerge at this point in the theoretical structure that Steyerl develops. With the inclusion of imagery from the 2002 Spiderman (reference appendix image E), she briefly sketches out a connection across forms of censorship, jumping between the censorship of bondage imagery in 1987 Japan and the censorship of Spiderman promotional images in 2001 that depicted a web capturing a helicopter between the Twin Towers in Manhattan. Between these images, is it just the visible knotting and harnessing that becomes illicit here? That visible knotting might remind the public of the quotidian power dynamics in which they play a part? With tongue planted firmly in cheek, it becomes unclear if censorship is caused by the visible inclusion of the web in both of these images, or, more likely, a distinctly moralist protection from pornography and a separate statist repression of imagery that reminds a public of a global political landscape.
When Steyerl and Asagi ultimately locate the images of Steyerl in the Fuzoku Shiryokan Sex Archive and are able to arrange a meeting with the photographer, Tanaka Kinichi, a description of the industry in the ‘80s complicates the research up that point. Tanaka notes the number of women that were lied to about the kind of shoot that would be happening and how in some cases, they wound up being paid in freedom rather than in the agreed upon sum of money. In this moment in which roleplay and real power blurs, a collapse occurs in the theoretical space that has been developed when a variety of scenes depicting Abu Ghraib bound victims, Guantanamo Bay prisoners, Terror Advisory Charts, and Spiderman are inserted into a monitor in the scene (reference appendix images A, F, G). At this point, Asagi clarifies to an interview subject that the name in “Lovely Andrea” that Steyerl used in 1987 was borrowed from her friend Andrea Wolf, who would later join the Kurdistan Workers’ Party (PKK) and, labeled a terrorist, be murdered by the Turkish State. (Reference appendix image D).
In adopting Andrea’s name, the photoset in the 1987 issue of S/M Sniper travels and disseminates in a manner not so different from the way Andrea Wolf’s actual image was reproduced and consecrated by fellow PKK insurgents after her death. Some differences: the 1987 image of “Andrea” shows a bound, stripped woman, wrists tied together, bent over, with large, male hands directing her posture, printed in glossy color on cheap paper, bound between covers, while the image of Andrea in Turkey after her death features a soft, kind face looking away from the camera’s gaze contentedly, and is printed in cheap black and white and is surrounded by a green laurel. The ambiguous relationship between these two image-based “Andreas” raises a question: What exactly is the relationship between the images of the martyr Andrea and the images of the sex object “Andrea?” Thinking through the lives of images, do they coexist primarily through their distinction from the real lives of the two subjects that are imaged? Where the life of the martyr Andrea becomes completely isolated from her experience as an insurgent, and similarly for “Andrea,” the “sex slave”? Alternatively, does 1987 “Andrea” function more purely as an icon for life in a neoliberal global landscape derived from the effects of colonialism? Perhaps the term “roleplay” becomes key for thinking through the power dynamics inherent in that global landscape.
In one of the final scenes, Asagi explains that she no longer performs as a typical bondage model, but rather as a “self-suspension performer” (reference appendix image H). This shift in terminology places Osada Steve in the assistant role as she binds her body and suspends herself through the use of a rope and pulley system. The distinction does not eliminate the role of being bound nor does it eliminate the imagery of bound bodies, but rather locates agency within that role. A montage of her performance plays as title cards alternate --- “WORK IS BONDAGE”/”BONDAGE IS WORK” --- and music plays as found footage of women working in a restaurant cuts in and out.
Strangely, it is in moments of such explicit attribution of meaning that make the inclusion of topics with ambiguous or multiple dimensions of relevance so generative in Lovely Andrea. With the ideological origins of the PKK in Marxism-Leninism, a reading of this associative collage through the filter of labor gestures towards Imperialist-Capitalist extraction of capital as ubiquitous bondage, a metaphor that becomes concretized when applied to the police tactics that strip bare the pop-culture surface of such systems.
But in returning to the repeated question pointed at Steyerl, “What is your film about?”, one final moment illuminates Steyerl’s sensibility of a feminist read. Noticing her image on the monitor, Steyerl exclaims, “I should get some Botox, I think.” Immediately, she is asked, “But you consider yourself a feminist?”, to which she responds, “Yes, definitely.” In this brief exchange, Steyerl foregrounds her own libidinal objectives and autonomy over self. In a familiar feminist read, the existence of cosmetic surgery as iconic symptom of feminine bondage to feminine body idealization is a problem, but her exclamation reads as sympathetic towards bondage and clarifies the ways in which that desire is not mutually exclusive with feminism. An adjacent text of Steyerl’s illuminates this thinking beyond the broad understanding of her and Asagi’s own autonomies, “The feminist movement, until quite recently (and for a number of reasons), worked toward claiming autonomy and full subjecthood. But as the struggle to become a subject became mired in its own contradictions, a different possibility emerged. How about siding with the object for a change? Why not affirm it? Why not be a thing? An object without a subject? A thing among other things?” The implications of such a claim towards an objecthood without subjecthood interfaces with Asagi’s notion of self-suspension neatly, but this also remains fairly theoretical in the way that her interest in Botox is not.
Katherine Behar addresses a similar question in her collection of texts, Object-Oriented Feminism, as she navigates the issue of the body-self-object in service of navigating a sound non-anthropocentric philosophy. In this work, implicating the self as object is sought in order to escape the anthropocentrist approach, which she describes as a liability in a variety of arenas, “[from] the ecological to the epistemological to the ethical.” Identifying the problem of animism in some supposedly non-anthropocentric philosophies as vivophilia, she advocates for necrophilia,
“It is a question of perspective. Vivophilia says that most things in the world are, in some significant way, as alive as I am. Necrophilia says that I am, in some significant way, as dead as are most things in the world.”
Behar identifies this (very specific) notion of necrophilia as the generative central tenet of the feminist body-art that has developed since the 1960s. “Denouncing the fetishization of lively integrity in body objects, body art foregrounds the self not only as a deadly object to be killed off but also as the scene of the crime.” In this dialogue, Behar claims administration of Botox as an ideal method for achieving that objective on a more quotidian timeline, through the use of the same toxin found in botulism, OnabotulinumtoxinA, via direct injection.
Within this space, there is better ground for understanding how the more overt elements of this film (the unethical practices of the Japanese black market porn industry in the ‘80s vs. Asagi’s agency in self-suspension) fit with the more opaque elements (the relationship between Andrea and “Andrea” as images, the role of censorship, the question of global power, how to reckon Botox ethics). The repetition of the line “What is your movie about?” remains useful because it gestures towards the simultaneity of mutual dependence that these threads rely upon for support.
In architecture, a “reciprocal frame” is a class of self-supporting structure made of three or more beams which requires no center support to support roofs, bridges or similar structures (reference appendix image I). This model of the reciprocal frame provides a useful illustration for the way in which Steyerl’s threads seem to support each other: leaning on each other in a sort of pinwheel formation, without need for a central column to support the resulting structure. In that model as illustration, Steyerl and her relationship with Andrea becomes the absent center support; instead, the audience encounters Asagi as surrogate for a younger Steyerl, the images of Steyerl that circulated throughout Japan, the images of the real Andrea that circulated throughout Turkey, the censorship that occurs under any state government, the real tactics of domination that state governments impose on their citizens and on other countries, and the roleplay of sexualized objects. If an audience pulls out the threads of Steyerl’s criticality, bondage functions as a useful distillation of much broader power dynamics. Despite this analysis of “bondage as theatre”/”bondage as business”/”work as bondage”, the brief reference to/absence of Andrea Wolf’s relationship to Steyerl and her images reveals that this work is founded in sentiment and a self-reflexive gaze in spite of such an ostensibly goal-oriented, critically-minded approach.
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thewickedsound · 3 years
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THE BEST JAZZ ALBUMS 2021 (SO FAR)
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  This album was recorded 45 years ago but sound so fresh like a recent release from a young band. Previously unreleased Marcos Resende & Index self-titled debut album from 1976, contributing a crucial missing work from the glory days of progressive Brazilian instrumental music. Resende in 76 after touring Europe with his previous band returned home to Brazil as an established highly regarded keyboardist, composer, and innovative electronic musician. Inspired and invigorated by US jazz and British progressive rock he'd experienced while residing in Europe, Resende went all out acquiring a keyboard arsenal to be reckoned with, which included the Prophet 5, Yamaha CP-708 and Mini Moog. Determined to integrate his newfound inspirations with Brazilian rhythms and jazz traditions, he formed a new quartet with Rubão Sabino (bass), Claudio Caribé (drums) and the late great Oberdan Magalhães, of Banda Black Rio and Cry Babies fame. Marcos Resende & Index recorded their self-titled debut at Sonoviso Studios with the legendary sound engineer Toninho Barbosa, known as the 'Brazilian Rudy Van Gelder' whose impressive resumé includes the era defining classics Light As A Feather by Azymuth, Previsão Do Tempo by Marcos Valle, and Quem É Quem by João Donato. Marcos Resende & Index fits perfectly amongst these masterpieces, sharing both the timeless ethereal qualities as well as the progressive and futuristic ideals of Light As A Feather in particular. Marcos Resende & Index by Marcos Resende & Index   Mathias Modica's Sonic Rohstoff is the new album on Kryptox Music. Sonic Rohstoff is a journey through abstract downtempo vibes, lofi jazz and futuristic electronica. Most people might know Modica from his earlier works as a producer, keyboard player and founder/ creative mind behind Toy Tonics, Gomma and Kryptox. Over the past two decades he has made a name for himself by discovering and breaking new talent and styles of music. This is Modica's first album under his own name, following three albums under his monikers Kapote and Munk. All instruments are performed by Modica himself, embellished by guest musicians from the new Berlin Jazz scene. Sonic Rohstoff by Mathias Modica   Zurich-based musician Arthur Hnatek is one of a new breed of players who see their music as a continuum stretching between genres, always thinking in terms of links rather than boundaries, possibilities rather than limits. His time spent playing drums with similarly adventurous and unclassifiable artists Tigran Hamasyan and Shai Maestro opened his ears to the possibilities of rhythmic variation: his immersion in electronic music production and the motorik tradition of Jaki Liebzeit alerted him the possibilities of repetition. Now, with Static, he presents his first trio record: joined by his equally fearless bandmates Fabien Iannone on bass and Francesco Geminiani on tenor sax, this is music created by classic jazz line-up and steeped in an improvisational facility, yet simultaneously utterly unlike anything in the standard jazz tradition. Static by Arthur Hnatek Trio
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  Marcelo Monteiro, a saxophonist from Sao Paulo, Brazil, has played with various Brazilian and international artists and at the same time was developing his own authorial work. Has excelled in the jazz scene in São Paulo, currently, he has performed with his group, which may be in trio, quartet or quintet version. With his group plays compositions of his own. His music follows the style of groove, funk and modern jazz, simple but very creative themes, with a hint of Brazilian swing. On his new album, Deyeh, he experimented with arrangements with flutes and saxophones, exploring the sound combining contemporary jazz, Brazilian rhythms, in a modern concept. The album was recorded remotely with each musician recording from their own home studio. Deyeh by Marcelo Monteiro
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  Sankofa by Amaro Freitas   World-renowned drummer/composer, & producer/beatmaker, Myele Manzanza, has proved that he's an artist who continues to dissolve the borders between modern jazz and electronic beat production. Having released three solo albums, and racking up tours and collaborations with Jordan Rakei, Theo Parrish, Miguel Atwood-Ferguson, Recloose and Amp Fiddler amongst others. Myele is already developing a strong live presence in his new London base; his quartet has shared stages with the likes of Hiatus Kaiyote, The Bad Plus, Alfa Mist, and drawing packed houses to top venues such as The Jazz Café and Ronnie Scott's. Crisis & Opportunity Vol.1 - London features a top tier cast of young London based talent including Ashley Henry (piano), James Copus (trumpet), George Crowley (tenor saxophone), Benjamin Muralt (bass) and additional contributions from the legendary Mark de Clive-Lowe (synths), with Myele Manzanza (drums) captaining the ship.   Crisis & Opportunity Vol. 1 - London by Myele Manzanza   Kaidi Tatham is a legendary multi-instrumentalist. Once dubbed "the UK's Herbie Hancock" by Benji B, he's a virtuoso on the keys and a true innovator in sound production as one of the original creators of the Broken Beat sound. Over the years his musical prowess has blessed numerous projects, initially with the likes of Bugz In The Attic and The Herbaliser, and more recently with DJ Jazzy Jeff (through the PLAYlist projects), Andrew Ashong (on the acclaimed Sankofa Season EP last year) and with a longtime accomplice, Dego. This is in addition to session work for artists such as Mulatu Astatke, Slum Village or Amy Winehouse. An Insight To All Minds is Kaidi's 3rd solo album under his own name, following several EPs and two albums for First Word; 2018's acclaimed It's A World Before You and the re-press of his seminal 2008 sophomore album In Search Of Hope last year. An Insight To All Minds by Kaidi Tatham   JAUBI continue the Nafs journey, which commenced with the single Satanic Nafs (featuring the remix by legendary LA producers The Gaslamp Killer & Mophono) released in March 2021. Now JAUBI draw on the elements of North Indian classical music, Hip-Hop and modal/spiritual jazz in their debut LP entitled Nafs At Peace. The journey officially began back in April 2019 when London's multi-instrumentalist and 22a Record label boss Ed "Tenderlonious" Cawthorne and Polish pianist/composer Marek "Latarnik" Pędziwiatr of EABS/Błoto, visited the group to record in Lahore. Together they channeled their personal struggles at that time into the two recording sessions allowing the musicians to find a spiritual path through this musical purge.  Nafs at Peace by Jaubi   Australian 9-piece Spiritual Jazz group Menagerie announce their highly anticipated third album 'Many Worlds', released 15th January 2021 on esteemed U.K label Freestyle Records. Menagerie is the Melbourne-based Jazz ensemble founded by producer, songwriter, guitarist, DJ and recording artist Lance Ferguson, also the driving force behind The Bamboos, Lanu, Rare Groove Spectrum and Machines Always Win. Recorded at Union Street Studio by award-winning engineer John Castle, 'Many Worlds' features some of Australia's finest musicians, including pianist Mark Fitzgibbon (a regular performer at Gilles Peterson and Patrick Forge's original Dingwalls sessions), drummer Daniel Farrugia and renowned saxophonist Phil Noy (The Bamboos). Inspired by both the post-Coltrane generation of the 70's, labels like Strata-East, Impulse! and Tribe, along with the current 'New Wave Of Jazz', Menagerie aligns with the world of Kamasi Washington, Shabaka Hutchings and Nubya Garcia, whilst also bringing their own unique twist. Many Worlds by Menagerie Astonishing new work from the fertile creative mind of tenor saxophonist-composer James Brandon Lewis. Performed by the Red Lily Quintet (James Brandon Lewis, Kirk Knuffke, William Parker, Chris Hoffman, Chad Taylor), an exceptional & singular inter-generational ensemble, this album speaks to the forever-evolving continuum of the jazz tradition. Voted Rising Star Tenor Saxophonist in the 2020 DownBeat Magazine International Critic's Poll, James Brandon Lewis supercharges his remarkable evolution with Jesup Wagon, a brilliant and evocative appreciation of the life and legacy of turn-of-the-19th century African-American musician-painter-writer-scientist George Washington Carver.   Jesup Wagon by James Brandon Lewis / Red Lily Quintet
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  John Carroll Kirby's Septet album was recorded live in the studio with a range of talents playing keys, vibes, bass, percussion and drums. The composer and keyboardist leads the charge and approached the album wanting to play with the chaos of jazz fashion in the 70's/80's, bands like Weather Report and Miles Davis. He sure does that but there is beauty in the madness, with plenty of lush and golden keys dancing above lithe and ad hoc rhythms.  Septet by John Carroll Kirby     Matt Carmichael released his debut album on his own label, Porthole Music. He has already developed quite a profile and an impressive list of collaborations; he also reached the finals of BBC Young Jazz Musician 2020. His quartet, formed five years ago, consists of his contemporaries, award-winning Fergus McCreadie on piano, Ali Watson on bass and Tom Potter on drums. Like McCreadie, Carmichael creates music that feels highly personal, fusing an energetic yet sensitive modern jazz into a bedrock of Scottish traditional music. Where Will The River Flow by Matt Carmichael   Taking cues from Dorothy Ashby and Alice Coltrane at their most delicate, renowned Welsh harpist Amanda Whiting's mesmerizing Jazzman full-length LP After Dark arrives as soft as moonlight to gladden the soul and delight the ear-without forgetting to bring the swing. Summoning the nocturnal mood suggested by the album's title, Whiting's harp flows and cascades, dances and alights, broods and haunts, informed by a deep understanding of both classical and jazz music, ultimately revealing a top-drawer composer with rare melodic gifts at the top of her game. After Dark by Amanda Whiting   JD73's Electrio - Pyramid is a colourful & energetic live recording session presenting 8 incredible pieces of music. Dan 'JD73' Goldman is known the world over for his contributions to the world of Jazz & modern electronic soul music and is backed up on Pyramid by Hamlet Luton (Bass) and Gordon Kilroy (Drums) completing the ElecTrio. Dan's ability to construct these incredible melodic gems centered on the sound of the Rhodes Piano is something to behold. This is a real collectors album and if you're a fan of Herbie Hancock, Chick Corea, Bob James & George Duke you need this on your record shelf for sure. Pyramid by JD73's ElecTrio Read the full article
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shoutingforbnha · 7 years
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Summer Camp! Part 1
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Concept: Day-dreamy and air-headed person with the ability to bend reality. Constantly targeted and gets kidnapped by villains to use their quirk and gets rescued by their future s/o (here)
Genre: Romance, Crack, this is so random
Warnings: PG-13 because of language, has potential spoilers of the School Trip Arc (Chapter 70-83)
Word Count: 1,764
Note: I happened to like this concept because damn, I have never thought of a quirk like that before. And this is probably gonna be so fun to write, there are so many possibilities with a quirk like manipulating reality!
It was during class, and you were looking at the ceiling. Your mind was purely blank, you really wanted to get out of this class. It was getting so boring until you hear sudden shouts or shrieks.
“(Y/N), that’s enough.” Aizawa said, still not taking his eyes off his students that were sitting on the (supposed) ceiling of the room.
“Ah, sorry, sorry, I was… distracted,” you mumbled.  
“HEY! YOU STILL HAVEN’T FIXED THE CLASSROOM!” Bakugo shouted. “Ah,” you sighed, slightly annoyed. You did return the classroom to its normal state but removed Bakugo’s mouth for fun. 
“Mmf! HNGGG MFFFFH!” Bakugo tried to speak. “(Y/N), stop,” Aizawa said.
You came off as a calm girl, maybe even calmer than Tsuyu. In fact, you were so calm that you don’t find anything near interesting. Thanks to this, you tended to lean toward daydreaming. If you can’t have that much fun in this world, you might as well have fun in your own world.
You were sitting beside Todoroki, the both of you as quiet as ever. “Say, can I borrow your notes? I forgot to copy the last part.” you asked. “Okay.” 
You had his notes on your hand, and a blank notebook on the other. Putting his notes above yours, you merged the two. “… What are you doing?” Todoroki asked, curious. “Copying notes,” you replied. 
After a while, his notebook reappeared on top of yours. “Here, thank you.” you said as you returned his notes. Todoroki had his eyes widened the whole time. 
“I’ve never seen that before,” he said. “You haven’t seen a lot yet, pretty boy,” you mumbled. 
‘Pretty boy?’ Todoroki thought as his face turned to a hue of red.
“Wah, is Todoroki actually blushing?” Uraraka said. “Seems like it, ribbit.” Tsuyu commented as she looked at Todoroki. 
“Do you think he has a crush on (Y/N)?” Momo whispered. You overheard this, and felt yourself blush. Lately, you’ve been having a little crush on Todoroki.
You were about to fall asleep, about to fall face-first on your desk when Todoroki caught you by holding your forehead. “This girl,” he sighed. You immediately woke up, and sat straight up. “Ah, I wanna go home.” you yawned as you rubbed your eyes, making Todoroki smile a little at your cute behavior.
Days passed by, and your first term has ended. You were a bit excited for the summer stay at the forest lodge, but you just had this unnerving feeling that you can’t shake off.
“Class A! Our bus is here! Please line up with your seatmate!” Iida announced, grabbing your attention. You were still not in the line as everyone lined up, you had no partner. 
“Ah, (Y/N)-chan, do you have no seatmate?” Uraraka asked. You nodded. 
“Hmm, oh! Todoroki-kun, do you have a seatmate already?” she asked for you. Todoroki shook his head. 
“Great! Go on, (Y/N)-chan.” Uraraka smiled as she pushed you off to Todoroki. 
Everyone went in the bus, and you were seated beside Todoroki, on the inner side with the window by your side. You plugged in your earphones, and started listening to music. 
After a while, you caught Todoroki staring at you. You both blushed, and looked away.
“Aah, they’re so cute together!” your female classmates whispered.
“Aah, why won’t he make a move already?!” your male classmates whispered.
After calming yourself, you looked at Todoroki. “Do you want to listen, too, Todoroki-kun? They’re pretty chill.” you said as you took one of the earphones out. “If it’s okay,” he said, hesitant. “No worries,” you said.
He used one of your earphones, and you smiled at him before looking outside again. 
The bus drove past countless trees, and the sky was as blue as ever. Your other classmates were noisy, radiating a carefree vibe. And, you sat next to the guy you liked. Everything was perfect.
And after awhile, you felt sleepy. Yawning, you leaned against the window, even if it was shaking slightly because of the bus’s engine, and closed your eyes. 
And so you fell asleep in a slightly uncomfortable position. Todoroki took notice of this, and took advantage of the situation, by letting you sleep on his lap. He warmed his body a little, resulting to you snuggling on his lap.
The bus halted to a stop, and everyone stopped what they were doing. Outside was just a lot, like a cliff, where you can see all the hills. 
“(Y/N)-san, we’re here.” Todoroki said as he gently shook you. “Ah? We’re here?” you said as you sat up, stretching. Todoroki nodded. “That was one of the best naps I’ve ever taken.” you said, stretching some more. He just smiled at this. 
He liked seeing you… content, happy. Even if it was just such a simple thing, like getting sleep.
You both got off the bus, immediately seeing the mountains and the magnificent blue sky. “Ooh,” your mouth formed an ‘o’ shape. 
While standing beside your classmates, two figurines suddenly appeared.
“Lock on target with our sparkly eyes!”
“While our cute, cute stingers sting!”
“Wild Wild Pussycats!”
“The pro heroes who’ll be looking after you lot are the members of the ‘Pussycats’” Aizawa announced. “Huh,” you let out. “’Huh’ indeed,” Todoroki mumbled. 
“We actually own this whole area!” Mandalay exclaimed.
“Since it’s 9:30, meet us at the lodge in two hours for lunch!” Pixiebob said as she used her quirk, Earth Flow. Everyone was launched up into the air, falling onto the big lot below.
“Welcome, to the forest of devil beasts!”
“Sounds interesting for once.” you said as you stood up, recovering from the fall. 
You guys walked into the forest, and saw two devil beasts appear. 
“Quieten down, beasts! Fall back!” Kouda said, trying to calm the beasts. ‘It’s not working?’ you thought. 
“it’s made of earth!” Midoriya exclaimed.
Shrugging the thought away, you used your quirk, turning the first devil beast to dust in a second. While Iida, Todoroki, Bakugo, and Midoriya fought the second one. 
“Ah, I’m hungry,” you said out of the blue. “Eh? We just started!” everyone said.
Smirking, you used your quirk to fly, and immediately located the lodge, and reappeared at the said place. “Oh, nobody’s here yet. Guess I could take a nap.”
You clapped your hands, and made a big umbrella appear. Sticking it on the ground, you lied down on a bench outside, since you didn’t have the keys to open the lodge. 
“Woah, isn’t she the one that turned my earth devil into dust?” Pixiebob said as she saw you, taking a nap. “She even flew all the way to here,” Mandalay added. “Yeah, she’s one hell of a student,” Aizawa mumbled.
“Hey, kitten! Would you like to have lunch?” Pixiebob asked as she gently shook you. Sitting up slowly, and stretching, you nodded.
“Here, it’s a ham and egg sandwich.” Mandalay said as she handed you one. “Thank you.” you said as you started to eat.
“Since it’s gonna take the others a long time to get here, let’s get to know each other! What’s your quirk?” Pixiebob asked. “I can manipulate reality,” you replied.
“Woah, that’s cool,” Mandalay commented. You just kept on eating. 
After they found out that you’re not much of a talker, they left you alone. 
Yawning once more, you took another nap. This time, in the girls’ room. Even you yourself don’t know why you like taking a nap. Maybe it’s because you can do anything without harming anyone or anything in your dream? Who knows, anyway.
You slept for 6 hours, and woke up at 5:00 PM. “Okay, that was a good nap.” you said, stretching. You fixed your sleeping mat, went to brush your teeth, and went outside. 
You could already here everyone’s shouts of encouragement to each other, making you laugh. You have spent 7 hours doing completely nothing, while they tired themselves out.
“Finally made it, eh, kitties?” Pixiebob greeted your classmates. You were at the entrance of the lodge, together with Aizawa and Mandalay. Everybody had faint scratches, sweat, and dirt on them. They were panting heavily, too.
“WHY THE FUCK IS THAT BITCH ALREADY HERE?!” Bakugo exclaimed, angry. “I thought you were smart, Bakugo. Don’t you already know the reason?” you said with your nose scrunched. “How do you still have the energy to shout, anyway?”
“It’s been on my mind for a bit, is that kid someone’s son?” Midoriya asked. “Nope, he’s my nephew. Come on, Kouta, introduce yourself. After all, we’re spending a week with them.” Mandalay said, calling her nephew.
“H-Hi, I’m Midoriya, nice to mee–” Midoriya started but got cut off when Kouta punched him in the crotch. He fell to the ground, tears welling up in his eyes. 
“Midoriya! Are you okay? Hey, come back here and apologize!” Iida exclaimed.
“I’ve got no intention of hangin’ with some dumb gang of hero wannabes,” Kouta scoffed. ‘Wow, this kid’s got attitude.’ you thought as sweat rolled down your forehead.
“Heh, little brat,” Bakugo commented. “Don’t see any resemblance?” Todoroki said. 
You tried so hard not to let out your laughter at this, your cheeks hollowed with the laughter trying so hard to be let out. 
“WHAT FUCKING RESEMBLANCE? SHUT YOUR DAMN MOUTH!” Bakugo shouted. “Sorry.”
“Alright, go inside and eat. After that, you guys can take a bath. Lights out soon after. The true camp will start tomorrow, so get some rest.” Aizawa said, entering the lodge.
Everyone sat on different tables, and not long after, the hall became noisy. Todoroki sat beside you, making you smile to yourself. 
“Aah, the food’s here! Thank you for the food!” you exclaimed with a smile, and everyone followed after. The hall even got noisier as everyone ate.
“I’m full!” you exclaimed with a smile. “Well, you did eat a lot,” Todoroki commented. “Sleeping takes more energy than fighting earth devils.” you joked, making Todoroki crack a small smile.
After taking a bath, everyone went to the assigned room depending on their gender (duh). “Damn, (Y/N). Can you still sleep after all those naps you took?” Yaoyorozu joked. “Definitely.”
Everyone was woken up at 5:00 AM, making almost everyone whine as they did their morning routines. Everyone except for you. You got 14 hours of sleep, with your naps included! Who would be tired after all that?
At 5:30 AM, everyone was outside the lodge. “Today’s the start of your true camp. And our main objective for this camp is to extend your quirks,” Aizawa explained. 
“It’ll be so tough you’ll feel like dying. But please, try not to.”
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jwalkermars · 3 years
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Electronic Music Album Covers
As part of my research I had to find 5 different EDM music album covers that ‘loosely’ link to the idea of the multiverse and the sci-fi theme. Each cover has different sections and parts that have been carry picked for the fact that I liked a particular part of the work that I would like to use in my own adaptation or the work as a whole I had a particular connection to that had me make the choice of choosing that particular work here.
I have always loved looking at different cover art (whether I like the type of music or not!). Cover art can really show a lot about either the type of person making the music or what the genre of music the album consists of itself. 
For each cover art I will talk about the cover as a whole then the techniques used in the art, then to finish of with the correlation of multiverse and where I got my ideas from when looking at the work for the first time.
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This first cover I picked stood out to me as it reminded me of the work that we did last term on gitch design and effects. This ‘connection error’ type style of work that we can see here complemented with the black background combine perfectly in unison as the red and green from the ‘gitch shifting’ in the face in the centre really pops and stands out.
The methods and techniques used with the cover is rather quite minimal. Along with the way that the ‘glitch’ effect has been portrayed in the art. Media used here is a simple photograph taken of the woman then imported in to what I assume is Photoshop as his is more of a photoshop task then anything else and manipulated bit by bit.
The way that this work links with the idea of the multiverse I feel is how alien like the image is. When I first saw the cover art my mind went straight the the idea of shape shifting and other beings being able to turn into other species and forms of life. That correlation alone was enough for me to put this in here and talk about it.
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With this art it is really quite simple to understand the direction the artist went with and the concepts that go along with those ideas. When first looking at the the correlation and link to the multiverse is extremely bold and easily identifiable, this is sometimes better in some situations unlike the first one where I dug slightly underneath the surface to show where I came from and the links I had MADE for the ideas of multiverse.
I really like the use of simple shape as you can see in the designs in this one and also the one below. I just think it adds another level of depth and really creates a level of highlight to what will be the main piece of the cover art in each situation above and below. Also in addition with adding in an outer glow around the triangle it creates a magical like feeling around the object.
Looking past the images and the edits to the cover. The use of simple text at the bottom of the page and also the clever use of typography at the top is enough to show the credits to the music art and the name of the art/music album.The way to top text is slightly stretched out along side removing the dash in the middle of the A at the end of “NOVA” matches the feel of the space theme and blends perfectly.
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With this EDM cover in which I briefly talked about in the cover above it has the same sort of feel and layout. The 3rd person perspective looking into space with various objects and effects gives a strong representation to when it comes to the idea of multiverse, especially when talking about this cover.
The use of negative and positive space in this cover is used spectacularly this along side all of the parts in which make up the scene are (although not perfectly) symmetrical (give or take the effects in which I will go into next).
Like I mentioned, the effects used here are from the earth at the bottom quarter of the page to the triangle floating around the spaceman use these set of tools that can be found in photoshop in harmony to create a beautiful art work in which match perfectly. The key tools I can pick out of this work is the use of EITHER the liquify tool or the warp feature on the earth at the bottom which creates a smooth water type effect in the middle. When looking closer at the spaceman itself you can see a slight use of motion blur from the hands and feet dragging down which fits the style the artist is going for.
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This art is going away from the typical sort of “Multiverse” idea of space and the idea of inhuman like forms.
I’ve always been a fan of neon signs the the art that can come out of it the extremely simple to pull of but in my opinion very clean looking and aesthetically pleasing.
You might be wondering where the idea of “Multiverse” even comes from when looking at this work. When I first saw this when doing my research for this start of project task it stood out to me as being different from all the rest of the typical stuff that you would have seen above it. The first idea that came into my mind was when seeing the outer glow (which really is the only effect that goes into this style of work) it reminded me of when looking into a night sky the glowing stars and other matter that you can seen. Obviously you wouldn't be seeing neon ice creams and cones though the sky. But this link alone set my imagination wild with the work that I could potentially create and produce for this term.
In all of the art here on this thread the common theme is the dark tone in the background. This allows the colors to be elevated and pop a bit more. (This could also be adjusted in the contrast and brightness settings).
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This last cover art is extremely unique and something that I had only seen a handful of times before (conveniently in album covers).
When I think abstract, this is exactly what comes to mind. Strange shapes that really has no meaning behind why or how exactly use direction the artist went through to create it.
The link to the multiverse for me was another dig beneath the surface for me. With this art, unlike many, there is no clear cut plan and outcome that the Illustrator wanted from it. The link I made was that the shapes and movement of the piece is inhuman like and not at all man made turns in the shapes and planned. As if it had been randomly generated by a non-human identity.
A very niche explanation and discovery of what went through my head but it makes sense for me and this is something I can take on board and use going forward.
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vervevibesvino · 6 years
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Vibes + Vino: 4 Producers, 4 Regions
The record producer: The experience architect, the idea-lobbyist, the ditty boss.
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J Dilla - The Sherry Triangle I don’t know what my life was before J Dilla. I don’t know what my life was before Sherry. My first wine mentor was obsessed with Sherry and, in my naive adolescence, I followed like a Hypebeast lemming with no initial context, because who was I to voice a real opinion when my understanding of wine comprised of not knowing Malbec’s origins were in France and pronouncing Xinomavro wrong. (Plus, Sherry was having its boom with hipsters at the time so I was inundated with questions at least 3x daily.)
In retrospect, this no-quantifiable-preconception crash course to Sherry was the best way for me to fall in love with it. It’s essentially a scrappy, off-beat drink if you think about it, and transparent in showcasing distinct soil characteristics, especially by the Albariza soil. #JDillaIsBae because of the same scrappy, off-beat production. Even in the very beginnings as Jay Dee evolved into being a full-time producer, he reminds me of the transparent, against-the-grain nature of the sax & percussion somersaults of 1940s bebop. He constantly built upon his blended style and didn’t overhaul it for anything or anyone. Kind of like the blended nature of Sherry itself, and how new oak isn’t really a solera thing when it comes to Sherry because the tannins would impede the development of flor. Or, even the fact that barrels are preferably fixed instead of replaced/discarded. After J Dilla, everything I thought I knew about hip-hop changed. After Sherry, I opened a new door to beverage geeking. Both run-ins are IRL examples of the often imitated, never duplicated two.
No I.D. - Burgundy My love affair with No I.D. is severely skewed being from Chicago and by my love affair with No I.D.-touched Common albums, specifically 1997’s One Day It'll All Make Sense—which is yours truly’s personal Holy Grail reach for soul searching, psyche demon slaying, and figuring-life-out moments. In the world of hip-hop production as a whole, on the surface it may not seem like No I.D.’s kudos is even comparable to James Yancey levels, but beneath it all it is… and then some. It's real easy to seperate the diehards, casual fans, and curious listeners of No I.D. when the masses only attribute his success to being a master sampler. (Not to discredit the latter by any means, because his artistry of the sample is his muscle—often euphonically ambitious yet golden.)
No I.D.’s music touch is practically sacred. Hell, he’s like the trillion dollar CPG industry in producer form—reputation in a broad space and honing his craft to flow with and stay relevant in current and future markets. He’s what Burgundy is to the wine world, and Burgundy’s domination comes in its own variant of CPG: Chardonnay, Pinot Noir, and Gamay. Yet outsider looking in, a snapshot of Burgundy in population and size might provoke assumptions that the region’s reach would barely make a dent in the world of wine. However, its influence has proven otherwise—and it’s a hell of a lot to examine. It’s to a point where I have to stop myself from feeling defeated when sinking into any Burgundy topic because I constantly feel a million steps behind in the the elaborate, convoluted technicalities. Much like how some winemakers have set Burgundies as a benchmark for influencing their own style of wines, No I.D.'s production style has taken other production artists to new heights. He’s a Veteran for a reason, infiltrating nearly three decades of music.
One No I.D. standout for me in the last five years would have to be "Higher" on Rihanna's ANTI - and it's barely 2 minutes long. In its slurred, vampy nature, it is profoundly focused. That's kind of how he bulldozed even through this next gen of artists - not taking the big shots right away, making punches where it mattered, and leveling up himself. He took time off, got inspired. Even simply relating back to Rihanna as a brand powerhouse, if you think about how influential the Fenty brand has combated the CPG sector of cosmetics when people felt the market was already saturated by celebrity releases, that's No I.D. as a producer. Preeminently, he’s been in the thicks of it, the cornerstone of it, molding a stockpile of careers.
Babyface - Willamette Valley These two scream the clashing dichotomies of the Old School and New School. On one side we have a marveled producer, the master of the dramatic R&B hook and sometimes dubbed the Quincy of my generation (although no one will ever be Quincy). On the flip side we have a region just as dramatic in its moist climate and consuming diurnal shifts, yet it's also a region compared to the likes of Burgundy probably more often than social media sees a contouring vid posted by a Kardashian (although Willamette will never be Burgundy).
Willamette Valley not only is an significant player in Oregon, but the Pacific Northwest as a whole. It's one of the larger American Viticultural Areas and as a New World region, it may not get enough of its due credit when the comparatives are hypersensitive to Old World traditions and fixated on what Willamette Valley is not in comparison to those Old World counterparts. But to me, Willamette is a mélange of the most intriguing characteristics of both Old World and New World wines. Minerality, mutually rustic and earthy - all with a nominal but distinctive fruit personality that is essentially the anti-Burgundy. Babyface initially was met with similar caution in the beginning of his production career - meeting a new generation of R&B listeners while the genre's core at the time could, in essence, be a genre quarterbacked by nobody other than Quincy Jones. Alongside L.A. Reid, he became the bridge to the New School from the Old School in the age of 90's R&B.
Bob Thiele - Tuscany Can you even put your finger on how many times a jazz recording has been sampled? Even if you drilled down to just one work, the gold standard of A Love Supreme, you'd be met with a hefty list. That influence is just one piece of the pie, and only takes sampling use and one album into account. But Bob Thiele's reach stretches much further - Thiele is one of the great names of jazz. His technical proficiency was ahead of his time, and the influence of his work has criss-crossed across generations of listeners and genres.
This kind of intertwining evolution makes me think of the Cabernet Franc and Sauvignon Blanc lovechild: Cabernet Sauvignon. As widely acknowledged as Bob Thiele is in jazz, Cabernet Sauvignon grapes are the most planted wine grape worldwide. It’s French in origin, but Italy and its history with the grape is very Bob Thiele - eqsue compelling, in particular. The initial rise of what is now the "Super Tuscan" was met with much controversy as wine laws pre-1980s did not accommodate the foreign grapes then. Eventually grapes like Cabernet Sauvignon would round out the red blend in following years -- winemakers saw it as a way to improve wine quality -- but if emjois existed during the time, any befuzzled/sneering look emjoi would’ve fit right into the reception of the Super Tuscan prior to actually coining the term "Super Tuscan".
In a world of countless Bob Thiele chartmakers, the "What A Wonderful World" project with George David Weiss and Louis Armstrong was not as honored upon release, and was received in similar fashion to how a Super Tuscan was viewed in Italy in the 1980s. Just like how the intention of adding foreign grapes to indigenous Italian varieties was to improve wine quality, "What A Wonderful World" was a tune set out to bridge gaps in race and culture at a time when race relations were beyond heated. Instead, the song faced criticism for simplistic lyrics and for an ignorance toward the world's state at the time. It would take years before the song was even seen as a standard.
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dawnfelagund · 7 years
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On Writing Aman, or the Balance between the Mythic and the Real
This essay was written for Back to Middle-earth Month 2017 for the orange/nonfiction path and the prompt “Worldbuilding.” It can also be read on the B2MeM community and the Silmarllion Writers’ Guild.
"In Valinor, all the days are beautiful."
This was the very first line I wrote in my very first serious Silmarillion fan fiction, Another Man's Cage . But I don't believe it. (Which is okay--those were Celegorm's words, not mine.) In fact, the twelve years of writing Silmarillion-based fiction could be seen as an exercise in proving Celegorm's sentiment here wrong.
Early feedback on the first draft of AMC largely focused on this point. A comment by JunoMagic (now SatisMagic) sums this up nicely:
What I think is most difficult about stories that are primarily concerned with Elves and Elves in Aman at that, is how to keep their inherent elvishness alive and present throughout the story, a feeling that this is not a story about another kind of men, but about a different kind of beings, however closely related they might be. (emphasis mine)
The challenge of writing not-wholly-human beings is hardly new to the fantasy genre. Ursula LeGuin's essay “From Elfland to Poughkeepsie” addresses it. "But the point about Elfland," she writes, "is that you are not at home there. It's not Poughkeepsie. It's different" (145). Most of LeGuin's essay focuses on style and the precarious process of achieving a style that sounds otherworldly without being distancing. But she takes jabs as well at fantasists who veer to close to the human and the our-worldly in their work:
The Lords of Elfland are true lords, the only true lords, the kind that do not exist on this earth: their lordship is the outward sign or symbol of real inward greatness. And greatness of soul shows when a man speaks. At least, it does in books. In life we expect lapses. In naturalistic fiction, too, we expect lapses, and laugh at an "overheroic" hero. But in fantasy, which, instead of imitating the perceived confusion and complexity of existence, tries to hint at an order and clarity underlying existence--in fantasy, we need not compromise. (148, emphasis mine)
So while LeGuin's essay is ostensibly about style, she also argues for characters of a "kind that do not exist on this earth," which is a profoundly different thing. This gets back to the early criticism of AMC: readers' unease with elements of the story that felt too "human" or "not Aman enough," like weapons and predators and Elves who pee. I think this unease is far less common now than it was ten years ago; I like to think that my generation of Silmfic writers had something to do with that, as did the shift away from Tolkien fan fiction as largely a practice by fans already deeply committed to the books (and the orthodoxy of mainstream Tolkien fandom) and toward participation by fans who came to the fandom through one of the film trilogies (as indeed I did). These fans bring practices common to Fanworks as a Whole but not necessarily the Tolkien fanworks community as it existed in its original online form, practices which seem to allow for an easier break with fanon and orthodox interpretive approaches to the texts. But the issue still remains: How does one worldbuild a place like Aman?
Juno's comment on AMC hints at this: The Elves of Aman are different and more difficult to write than Elves in general (who also pose their difficulties). Or: Aman is more of the rarefied, not-of-this-earth Elfland that LeGuin places at the heart of a successful fantasy story. I don't want to say that this is wrong--I admire both women as writers and thoughtful critics of fiction--but I also see this view as posing difficulties that LeGuin does not acknowledge in her essay. (Juno does, in her discussion with me back when.)
Successful fiction, for most people, requires a connection to something real, something they can relate to. (I know some people would disagree with this. But for most of us, reading a story that carries no connection to anything recognizable to us is not a pleasurable experience.) Tolkien recognized this. In his essay On Fairy-stories, he spoke of the necessity of an "inner consistency of reality" and noted, "The keener and clearer the reason, the better fantasy will it make," i.e., one must understand the rules of the world before remaking them (section "Fantasy"). The best of authors are, in many ways, the builders of bridges: They take recognizable human experiences or components of our familiar world and use them to bear us unwittingly across the chasm to an unfamiliar world or existence. Suddenly, sometimes without knowing how we arrived there, we look up to find ourselves existing (fictionally) as a person we detest or inhabiting an experience we knew nothing about--or living in a world not our own: an alien planet, an underworld, an Elfland.
The risk comes when that bridge is so tenuous, so frail that the crossing becomes difficult or even impossible, and we stand on the other side, looking into a world or existence as a character that we cannot really connect to. It isn't quite believable or real. Some might argue that is part of the point--LeGuin makes the case for escapism in her essay, which was a major component of Tolkien's theory of fantasy as well1--but escapism is far from the sole reason for reading or writing fantasy. In fact one could--and I would--make the claim that fantasy functions just as easily as a test environment for ideas that would perhaps stretch the bounds of belief if grounded in our world. Fantasy as a genre, after all, is defined primarily by the author's ability to bend the rules "just because." That allows for the stereotypical sorcery and dragons, of course, but it also allows authors to add gender equality or benevolent monarchs or immortality, or to explore the darker elements of what it means to be human--genocide, colonialism, and slavery are all present in The Silmarillion, for example--without exploiting or misrepresenting the experiences of actual victims of those things in our real world. Adding such elements provokes interesting questions about what it means to be human in our world without becoming so entangled in the complexities of real-world history and modern society and the emotions these things incite.
Which brings me back to the question of Aman and how best to write stories set in this otherworldly place. A good deal of it depends on your purpose for writing about Aman: Is it an escape? Or are you situating a recognizable human experience inside an otherworldly setting to see what comes of it?
For me, it is the latter, and not just because I find this the most meaningful type of fiction to write but because the material Tolkien gave me to work with suggests this approach. Earlier, I emphasized LeGuin's quote that "[t]he Lords of Elfland are true lords, the only true lords, the kind that do not exist on this earth: their lordship is the outward sign or symbol of real inward greatness" (148). If the magic of Elfland comes from language and style, then LeGuin is correct to hold up Tolkien as a master of "the genuine Elfland accent," but what she says here is a whole 'nuther animal, and had LeGuin had access to The Silmarillion--she wrote "From Elfland to Poughkeepsie" in 1973--then she might have been less confident in this assertion about the "true lords" of Elfland (148).
As a nascent Tolkien fan, I fell in love first with The Lord of the Rings and, when I reread it now, love it anew for reasons I need articulate to no fan of Tolkien. But what seized my heart and transported me fully to Middle-earth was The Silmarillion. I've spent thirteen years now writing stories about The Silmarillion, motivated largely by a desire to understand the flawed world and characters it presents. Most of my stories are set in Aman. This possibly seems contradictory: If I love flaws, then why would I set most of my work in "Elfland," in a place described as "blessed, for the Deathless dwelt there, and there naught faded nor withered, neither was there any stain upon flower or leaf in that land, nor any corruption or sickness in anything that lived; for the very stones and waters were hallowed" (Silmarillion, "Of the Beginning of Days")?
One doesn't have to look far to realize that this description is idealized. There is first of all Míriel Serindë, who not only sickened but died, right there in Valinor, in the most exalted of acts: giving birth to her child. Ungoliant dwelled "there in Avathar, secret and unknown," where "beneath the sheer walls of the mountains and the cold dark sea, the shadows were deepest and thickest in the world," in sight of Valmar and the Two Trees (Silmarillion, "Of the Darkening of Valinor"). Of course, Melkor lived there for many ages; the Silmarils, also described as "hallowed" ("Of the Silmarils"), burned his hand when he touched them, but he could abide the also (supposedly) "hallowed" Aman?
Aman isn't a flawless realm but a realm that carries a convincing veneer of flawlessness. This has been essential in my worldbuilding within the bounds of Aman. Over the years, I have given Aman universities, hunger, seaside resorts, a redlight district, and most recently, democracy. One of my favorite Tolkien resources of all time is Darth Fingon's “Twenty-Two Words You Never Thought Tolkien Would Provide” because it gives us a look beneath the veneer of Aman.
I believe this veneer takes strength to maintain that is not possible to sustain over the long term, even for the Ainur. We see this again and again in Tolkien's world--Doriath, Gondolin, Nargothrond, Númenor, Imladris, Lothlórien, all isolated and protected places that eventually fall or wither with time--but Aman is rarely included as such a place. We assume Aman had genuine sublimity--not least of all because many of the realms on the list above imitate Aman; not least of all because it is the creation of the divine and eternal Ainur--but I'm not sure that the land that harbored Ungoliant can be labeled as ideal. The illusion is tattered, and reality is bound to enter in.
In my stories, the effort to keep up the veneer of perfection means that the further one is from Valinor proper--from the part of the realm most carefully constructed and maintained by the Valar--the more ordinary the realm appears. This is based in the fact that Ungoliant's unnoticed occupancy of Avathar--which including weaving vast, black, light-sucking webs among the mountains there--seems at least partially predicated on the fact that it is "far south of great Taniquetil" where the "Valar were not vigilant" (Silmarillion, "Of the Darkening of Valinor"). However, in the same passage, both Melkor and Ungoliant are described as able to descry the Light of the Trees and other features of Valinor; they don't seem to be that far away. The power of the Valar may be more limited than the idealist description of Valinor in the text would suppose and doesn't seem to extend across the extent of Aman. I have used this same idea in my stories about Aman: As one journeys further from the epicenter, the veneer of perfection thins and then disappears altogether. Formenos in the north, in my stories, is set in a part of the land with seasons, including winter, and predators that residents warn their children against. These elements of my depiction of Aman were among those questioned by early readers of my work.
Likewise, some of the residents of Aman were born in Middle-earth and their personalities shaped in the crucible of the early conflicts with Melkor. Aman, therefore, could hardly guarantee an edenic existence for the Eldar, innocent of the knowledge of grief, violence, and death; rather, the Elves who came to Aman doubtlessly brought with them both survival skills and trauma from their tenure in darkened Middle-earth. This is an idea that is frequently explored by Silmarillion writers (including me) in the context of sexuality: Before the laws of the Valar were imposed upon them, the Elves would have had a more naturalistic and lenient view of sex. Without delving beyond its title, Laws and Customs among the Eldar is just that: among the Eldar, and this choice of wording from the semantically fastidious Tolkien feels deliberate and laden with potential meaning. But the presence of Elves from Middle-earth--including all of the leaders of the Eldar in Aman--presents significance beyond sex. Weapons are an issue I wrote about as early as AMC--proposing, somewhat in defiance of canon, that Elves in Aman possessed swords as historical artifacts and also for athletic pursuits--that drew criticism then, at least in part because what use have the people of Aman for weapons? I say that allowing swords to certain groups of Eldar in Aman is "somewhat" in defiance of canon because Tolkien himself waffled on this issue, seeing the question of weapons as a potential plot hole.2 He concluded that it was unreasonable to expect that they didn't possess weapons on the Great Journey. Consider this implications of this. Into the so-called Deathless Realm came Elves experienced in making and using weapons, whose minds most likely devised of instruments of death and violence on their own, possibly among their first creative acts. How is such a culture shaped by the of reality life in Middle-earth, illuminated only by the stars and under duress of an enemy too strong and cunning even for the Valar? How is that effect amplified when those who endured such an experience do not die, leaving their descendents to progress into a more pacific existence without them, but retain that formative mindset, those skills and those traumas, into the ages?
But trauma does not end with those born outside of Aman. Events within Aman wreak havoc upon those likewise born within its borders: In fact, that they occur in Aman seems an inescapable component of the trauma.
Perhaps the most salient example of this is Fëanor. Fëanor lost his mother and watched the Valar bend the rules to allow his father to remarry, ensuring in the process that Míriel could never be reborn. These events alone would have been potentially traumatic. But consider how their occurrence in Aman of all places compounds that trauma, adding a sort of insult to injury, as Fëanor doubtlessly progressed through his life hearing how fortunate the Elves were to live in the safety of the "deathless realm." His own experience would have been very different, and it must have been painful or galling to hear Aman celebrated while understanding that ideal was only a veneer--a concept doubtlessly controversial, if not impossible, to articulate.
Likewise, the conflict in the House of Finwë is worsened by its happening in Aman. When Fëanor draws his sword on Fingolfin, he is accused primarily of having "broken the peace of Valinor and drawn his sword upon his kinsman"; almost as an afterthought, Námo Mandos adds that the "deed was unlawful, whether in Aman or not in Aman," but it is hard to imagine Fëanor would have received a penalty so severe anywhere else (Silmarillion, "Of the Silmarils"). The primary transgression seems to be manifesting an emotion--expressed through the powerful symbolism of the drawn sword--that belies the illusion of a land without corruption. The cauldron of circumstances that produced this rash act are not examined in any meaningful way; instead, the rash actor is hidden away in the name of restoring peace--or at least the illusion of it.
Taken together, I believe that worldbuilding Aman as an "Elfland" as LeGuin understands it is a fundamental flaw. The lords of Aman are the very ones we see on earth: They are idealistic to the point of naïveté (the Valar); they want what they don't have (Finwë); they are jealous, vulnerable, angry, in pain (Fëanor). One can extrapolate outward from these supposedly greatest of the residents of Aman to assume that the land is not as impeccable as the rhapsodizing of the narrator of The Silmarillion would have us believe. To look no further than the dust of diamonds upon one's shoes in walking there, to never glimpse the faces of those who dwell there and what hides behind their eyes, is to be so dazzled by a beautiful illusion as to miss what matters.
Notes
1. On escapism as a motive for fantasy see Tolkien's essay On Fairy-stories, in the section "Recovery, Escape, Consolation":
I have claimed that Escape is one of the main functions of fairy-stories, and since I do not disapprove of them, it is plain that I do not accept the tone of scorn or pity with which "Escape" is now so often used … Why should a man be scorned if, finding himself in prison, he tries to get out and go home? Or if, when he cannot do so, he thinks and talks about other topics than jailers and prison-walls?
2. On the question of weapons in Aman, see The History of Middle-earth, Vol. X: Morgoth's Ring, The Annals of Aman, note on §97 (page 106 in the hardcover edition). Tolkien originally stated that "Melkor spoke to the Eldar concerning weapons, which they had not before possessed or known," then emphatically argued with himself in a marginal note: "No! They must have had weapons on the Great Journey," concluding that they had "weapons of the chase, spears and bows and arrows." Swords may be a step too far for some people--although Tolkien's own inconclusiveness on this issue leaves me feeling it is far from carved in stone--but weapons in Aman certainly were not.
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