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theseshipsshallsail · 3 years

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There’s a new club in the Village - Infinity emblazoned in bright, neon letters - and naturally, the building is jam-packed with society’s outcasts on its opening weekend. Oliver grimaces, pressing his third beer to the side of his face, yet the condensation does nothing to soothe his overheated skin. It’s like a furnace of writhing bodies, and with every bead of sweat that bisects his neck to soak into his collar, he can’t help but wonder why he ever agreed to come in the first place.

“Drink up,” Vanessa says, brandishing a bright amber concoction as she slides into the booth opposite him. “You look like you need something a little stronger.”

Oliver raises an eyebrow as he returns the bottle to the table, then plucks the wedge of orange peel from the rim of the proffered glass. It’s been three years since he tasted a negroni, and the potent combination of gin, Campari, and vermouth sends his mind reeling in directions he usually fights tooth and nail to avoid.

“Remind me again why you brought me here?” he asks, trying not to wince at the bitter aftertaste. “This isn’t exactly my scene.”

Vanessa scoffs. “Well, if you ever left your study...”

“I’m up for promotion!”

“You’ll be up for an ulcer if you don’t slow down. Besides, you deserve to let loose after... you know.”

You know, meaning his divorce, and the eighteen month shit-storm that preceded it.

Vanessa has the office next to his, and in between general grousing about University politics they’ve become close friends. It helps, of course, that she understands his situation all too well, and even though her parents never tried to strong-arm her to the altar, she and her girlfriend still have to hide their relationship from the rest of their colleagues.

Oliver sighs as he takes a second sip of his drink. “It’ll take more than a one night stand to loosen me up,” he tells her, and the filthy smirk that curls Vanessa’s lips has him tempted to bang his forehead against the table.

“Whatever tickles your pickle, Professor.”

“Why do I put up with you?”

“Hell if I know.” Slurring somewhat, she taps their cocktails together, and Oliver laughs as she leans forward, poking him in the chest. “Listen, Ollie, you and Micol did a spectacular job of making yourselves miserable, but at least you stayed faithful ‘til the end. Why not enjoy yourself, yeah?”

“Why not indeed?”

He’s aiming for sarcastic, yet his tone falls somewhere short of exhausted. She’s right, he realises, but Oliver hasn’t had much interest in men or women for a while. He’s not so deep in denial to admit his heart still belongs to another, and being hopelessly in love with someone he can’t have has done a real number on his libido.

“Damn! This place is heaving!” Simone says, slumping in her seat when she returns from the bathroom. Slinging an arm around Vanessa’s shoulder she drops a quick kiss to her cheek, and Oliver averts his eyes, the casual intimacy leaving him yearning for the impossible. “A few too many student-types for my liking, though. Makes me feel like I’m back in the theatre department.”

“Makes me feel like I’m pushing thirty,” Oliver mutters, painfully aware of the significantly younger crowd as he tugs at the cheap material of his shirt. Too many curries and not enough exercise has made him self-conscious of the few extra pounds at his waistline, and depressingly, twenty-eight feels ancient in comparison.

“You wanna call it a night?” Vanessa asks, and Oliver nods absently as his gaze catches on a couple in the middle of the dancefloor.

Caught in a world of their own, they make a striking picture. The taller of the pair is bleached-blond and athletic, his arms wrapped tightly around the slim waist of the man in front of him in a surprisingly protective gesture. Oliver can’t see his partner clearly from this angle, but his skin is pale and shimmering as they move to the beat, dark curls falling in a tousled mess. Whether it’s by artful design or sweat-damp from dancing, he can’t quite tell, yet Oliver is hypnotized by the way they bounce as he loses himself to the music, obscuring his vision until the other man reaches forward, gently brushing them away.

The bass pounds in his rib cage, and Oliver’s throat feels constricted as he watches the brunette link his hands behind his lover's neck. Profile half in shadows, he raises up on tiptoes to whisper in the shell of his ear, and Oliver experiences a crisis of tenderness when he butts their temples together. Something squirms in his stomach. Something raw and envious. Memories flare, unfair and brutal, and he immediately blames the burning of his retinas on the relentless assault of the strobe lights surrounding them.

“Oliver? You okay?”

No.

Definitely not.

The jostling crowd causes the blond to alter their position, and Oliver’s head spins from more than just the alcohol as his blood runs cold in his veins.

“Elio…” he murmurs, vaguely aware of Vanessa’s stifled gasp when she tries to get a better look.

“Your Elio?”

He wants it not to be - wants his eyes to be deceiving him - yet there’s no denying the truth. All that he’s forgotten - all that he’s clung to - coalesces in a rush of unslaked longing, and between one blink and the next, Oliver remembers everything.

“Not anymore,” he whispers, but then, why would he be?

Elio was seventeen when they first met, and Oliver isn’t naive enough to think he hasn’t fallen in and out of love many times since then. He’s beautiful, intelligent, talented beyond measure. Was he really so arrogant to imagine he would still be single? Pining for him, maybe? Saving himself? And for what? A six week romance one too-hot Italian summer? Something his cowardice cut short with a long-distance phone call?

He was, wasn’t he?

Arrogant.

And so very stupid.

“Of all the gay bars in all the world…” Vanessa takes a swig of her piña colada as he continues to spiral. “I thought you said he lived in Italy?”

“He did,” Oliver replies, picking at his thumbnail. “He moved here for school.”

“And you didn't contact him?”

“To say what?” His ears ring from the shrillness of her tone. “Hey, Elio. Remember that time I broke both our hearts ‘cause I’m a gutless schmuck? How about I buy you a coffee to make up for it?”

“It would’ve been a start.”

“It would’ve been selfish,” he says, tearing his eyes away. “He has enough on his plate with Juilliard. I’d only get in the -”

“Juilliard?” Simone’s low whistle interrupts his self-reproach. “Impressive.”

“Son of a professor,” Oliver explains. “I always knew he was a genius.” He gathers himself with a quiet huff. “Though he’ll probably say he knows nothing.” The spark of nostalgia is crippling, and it takes everything he has not to break down on the spot. “I should go,” he says, draining the remains of his drink as he rises to his feet.

“Oliver -”

“Why don’t you come back to ours?” Vanessa offers, making to follow, but whatever expression is on his face causes Simone to catch her by the wrist.

“We’re here if you need us, alright?”

“I know,” he says, eternally grateful for their support as he pushes some cab money into her hand. “Get home safe. I’ll call you in the morning, okay?”

“You’d better,” Vanessa tells him, obstinate in her concern, yet all he can focus on right now is leaving.

The swirling thoughts inside his head are all-consuming, but Oliver is determined to reign in his emotions for a little while longer. Ignoring the way his shoes stick to the tacky vinyl flooring, he grits his teeth as he snakes his way through the crush of humanity. He needs space. Fresh air. Hell, a damn time machine wouldn’t go amiss. He has nobody to blame but himself, and he’s halfway to the exit sign when his pace grinds to a halt, his masochistic streak unable to resist one last glimpse.

A flash of irrational panic makes him breathe in deep - hold it for a count of three - and when he turns to scan the roiling bodies that fill up the dance floor, he finds them immediately. The shock doesn’t lessen, and if Oliver thought his heart had broken when they’d clung to one another on a train station platform, it’s naught compared to when Elio tips the other man’s chin up with the same fingers that used to play his body like a finely tuned instrument. White noise fills his ears as he ghosts a kiss to his lips - two chaste pecks at first - and then harder. Hungry. Mouths open. Tongues swirling. Deep and dirty.

Just the way he likes it.

Fool that he is, Oliver doesn’t turn away. But he’s not the only one. Their bawdy display has garnered a small audience of the jealous and horny, and when the cat-calls eventually die down he notices a clearly disappointed red-head stalk past them on route to her table of friends.

Time has not domesticated him, it seems, and Oliver feels like crying as the world returns frame by frame - the oscillating pulse of the dance track. The lightning burst of colour from the laser system above. An innate sense of powerlessness floods through him - the depths of which he hasn’t experienced since Elio sobbed against his chest in an attic bedroom - and a heavy weight settles in his belly as he recognises the cues and rituals that were once directed at him alone.

Elio has obviously flourished in his absence. His body language is looser, more relaxed, assured in a way his younger self could only dream of, and Oliver allows an almost-smile as the couple laugh for a moment before turning to walk away.

His fingers itch for a cigarette - a habit he’s struggling to waive - and the next thing he knows he’s taking a seat at the bar, a double shot of bourbon in his hand he doesn’t remember ordering, and a screaming admonishment from his better judgement to not do anything stupid.

All I had to do was find the courage to reach out and touch, Elio said once, rife with self-mockery, and Oliver’s advice was to try again later. Was this it? Their later? And if not now, when? Because whatever his feelings of bitterness - whatever his misguided envy - if he lets this opportunity pass him by, he will always wonder. Always look.

In truth, he already does.

Ever since Samuel mentioned Elio was moving to the States, he’s carried the idle fantasy of crossing paths in some random book store, eyes locking across a busy street, a name - his, theirs, both - shouted across a bustling coffee shop. Of all eventualities, though, he hasn’t prepared for an Elio who might not be happy to see him. Who might dismiss him. Cast him aside like some ill-fitting chapter in the editing process. The context is all wrong, and for it to happen like this is akin to being plunged into the icy waters of the berm.

“Accidenti!” an achingly familiar voice says from somewhere behind him. “Are all Americans incapable of taking a hint? Or is it just an East Coast thing?”

“It’s the accent, mio amico. Fries their brains.”

“Never mind their brains,” Elio replies in the same lazy drawl. “I think you’ve sprained my tonsils.”

There’s a snicker to his left, and like a moth to a flame, Oliver peers up into the mirror behind the bar, only to find his living nightmare mere meters away, sharing a cigarette. Elio’s still wearing the same bracelets he did that summer, and three years of sleepwalking collapses around him as Oliver hunches over, palms sweating.

“Seriously though,” the blond continues. “Look at this place! Wall-to-wall entreés, and you won’t so much as skim the menu. You’re spoiled for choice, compagno.”

Elio scoffs as he brings the filter to his lips. “Didn’t I tell you choice is an illusion?”

“As is time, according to Adams.” The man slings an arm over his shoulders. “And here you are, free as a bird, wasting the perfect opportunity.”

Elio flips him the middle finger. “Stronzo,” he says, leaving Oliver more confused than ever as he studies him over the rim of his glass. “It’s a curse.”

“Self-inflicted, maybe.”

“So what’s the answer? And don’t say forty-two.”

The guy chuckles. “Variety,” he says, signalling the harried bartender. “Things didn’t work out with the violinist - I get it. È la vita! You’re not in the mood for pushy red-heads? Fine. But don’t sell yourself short. Trust Fund Tina’s not the only one checking you out.”

“Perhaps.”

“What perhaps?” A knowing smirk shoots in Oliver’s direction. “See for yourself.”

It’s like experiencing the first tremor of an earthquake. Elio was always a force of nature, and bracing for disaster, Oliver feels the fault lines buckle beneath him. He thought he was done letting fear and shame dictate his life, yet even now, at peace with his true self, he can’t bear to witness the seismic shift between past and present. Instead, he falls back on avoidance, tearing strips off a frayed beer mat until the hair prickles at his nape.

He can feel it - the instant his fate is sealed - and taking a deep breath Oliver returns his eyes to the mirror, meeting Elio’s stunned features. Dark brows climb towards his hairline as the happiness on his face shifts into something else. Something measured. Unrecognisable. A blank slate, almost. For a moment, Oliver fears he’s going to ignore him completely, but then Elio straightens his spine, offers the half-smoked cigarette to his friend, and with a few whispered words strides forward with purpose.

His daring is a law unto himself, but the look he’s giving him now exudes superiority - omniscience, almost - as if he can read every thought that’s going on inside Oliver’s mind, and has already deemed them wanting. It shouldn’t be such a turn on, yet his heart skips a beat regardless. Then another. Every instinct in his body tells him to reach out, to hold Elio’s hand, tuck those wild curls behind his ear, but it’s no longer his place - if it ever really was to begin with - so Oliver takes a deliberate sip of his whiskey, scared and aroused simultaneously, before swivelling towards him.

“Oliver.” His name on Elio’s lips - three smooth syllables - and he feels reborn. “Long time no see.” Hesitating, he offers up a pack of Luckies. “Fumo?”

“I shouldn’t,” he says, dragging trembling fingers through his hair. “I told myself I’d quit. God knows it won't take much to -”

“Tempt you?”

Heat rises to Oliver’s cheeks. “Yes,” he admits, and Elio’s smile is a shallow, brittle thing.

“Well, you know yourself,” he says, returning the cigarette carton to his pocket. “Don’t let me ruin your good intentions.”

His flippancy is like a red rag to a bull, and Oliver’s hackles rise as he sets his drink on the counter, irritated enough by Elio’s calm exterior to try and provoke a reaction. “Is your boyfriend not the jealous type?”

All he receives is an eye roll. “Bruno’s not my boyfriend.”

“Could’ve fooled me. From what I saw earlier.”

“You saw nothing,” Elio replies, defensive. “We’re friends. Roommates.”

“Roommates?” Rising from his stool, Oliver takes a step towards him. “That kiss -”

“Is none of your business. Not anymore.”

It hits him like a punch to the gut. Oliver’s lips part, but no sound passes between them. He’s being irrational, he’ll accept, but old habits die hard, and through sheer force of will he quashes down his guilt, knowing better than to use it as a weapon.

“Of course,” he says, chastened. “You’re right.”

“I usually am.”

“Elio…” This isn’t how he wants the conversation to go. “I know it’s too much to expect your forgiveness, but please don’t be angry with me. We were friends, once. Before anything else.”

“I’m not angry.” A beat. “Not anymore.” Tipping his chin, Elio folds his arms in front of him. One more barrier despite the brush-off. “I’m processing.“

“Processing?”

“Yes, processing. Originates from the Old French proces. Related to the Latin processus, and from the verb procedere in Middle English.”

“Wise ass.”

“Sempre.” Elio shrugs, watching him openly. “What are you doing here, Oliver?”

“My friends saw the flyers,” he says, bypassing the here, specifically, when Elio’s attention drops a few inches lower, and he realises he’s staring at his ring finger.

At the white line that’s all but vanished since he signed his way to freedom.

“You’re…”

Oliver clears his throat. “Divorced,” he manages, shuffling his feet. “Almost three months now.”

“Divorced?” Elio’s mask slams back into place, the distress in his voice palpable. “Why?”

And there are so many things he could say to that - the stress of his job, money, differing expectations - but this is Elio. His first love. His forever love. He, above anyone, deserves the truth.

“I think you know why.”

“Do I?” That same phony indifference. “What the eyes see, and the ears hear, the mind believes.”

“The truth is never that simple.”

“Not for us, it seems. Not in this world.” Elio gives his head a small but firm shake, blowing out a frustrated breath. “You know, tonight was supposed to lower my stress levels, not raise them,” he says, granting them a temporary reprieve. “But then, you always were hazardous to my blood pressure.”

“Trust me. The feeling’s mutual,” Oliver tells him wryly. “Might I recommend some deep breaths?”

“Deep breaths?” Elio rocks back on his heels. “If I had any peaches I’d be using my right hand.”

It catches him unawares, and Oliver can't help it. He snorts. Overcome by relief. Then he laughs - a weak sound, and damn near helpless - but a laugh, nonetheless. Cupping a palm to his mouth. Moving it to his eyes. Feeling the tears he’s been fighting since this whole debacle began.

“My God you’re incorrigible,” he mutters, the sharp stab of regret cutting him to the core as he glances over his shoulder, and the blond - Bruno - shoots him a wink. “When you said I saw nothing...”

The hesitant curve of Elio’s smile lights a fire in his chest. “There was a girl on the dance floor who wouldn’t take no for an answer. Lucky for me, Bruno’s never been shy about putting on a convincing performance.”

Oliver winces. “Well, I bought it.”

“Mission accomplished, then.” Elio edges closer. “I could’ve said the same for you, once upon a time.” The air between them grows charged. “Do you ever miss it?” he asks. “Italy, I mean?”

“Every single day.” Oliver finds himself captivated by the smattering of stubble along Elio’s jawline. The touch of smudged kohl beneath his lashes that turns his gaze smouldering. “Do you?”

“In a way.”

“Just a way?” He’s not entirely certain they’re talking about the same thing, and Vanessa’s advice seems all the more pertinent. “Let me buy you a coffee?” Oliver asks, and Elio frowns.

“What? Now?”

“If you like.”

“It’s gone midnight!”

“Tomorrow, then. Whenever you’re available.” Suddenly desperate, he closes the gap between them. “I can’t excuse my actions, Elio - I know I can’t - but at the very least I owe you an explanation.”

“Oliver...” This time it’s Elio who reaches out, his usually steady hands uncertain as they entwine with his. “I was young, not stupid. What’s there to forgive? You left because you had to. You married because -”

“I was weak.”

“Cazatte!” The tension in Elio’s body snaps back like a coil. “My father would have carted me off to a correctional facility,” he murmurs, squeezing his fingers tightly. “I’ll never forget those words.”

“I’m sorry...”

“Don’t be!” Elio sounds furious on his behalf. “Weak, you say? No. Control over others is the true weakness. Coercion. Conformity. All it does is breed hatred. And that’s not you. Not my Oliver.”

“Am I still?” he asks, laying his cards out on the table. “Your Oliver?”

“I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

Oliver swallows thickly. “I guess we will,” he says, dropping his forehead to Elio’s crown.

He’s braver at twenty-one than Oliver could have dared imagine, and for the first time in years the dull ache beneath his ribs is replaced by a different sort of craving. The way they fit together so easily, like no time has passed, fans the banked passions within him - the desire to press his lips against Elio’s neck, to nip his way along countless freckles until he can fist those unruly curls and guide his mouth back to where it belongs.

Flush against his.

Devouring.

But not yet.

This isn’t leading to sex. Not tonight. This is about reconciliation. Reassurance. Redemption.

“There’s a late-night diner on the corner…”

It’s a whisper against his cheek - so quiet he barely hears it - and Oliver leans down, pressing his face to Elio’s collarbone, breathing him in. He knows this won’t be easy - knows there will be dark clouds before the dawn - yet here they are, older and wiser, and three years might as well be yesterday as the parting crowds provide a temporary island in which to weather the storm.

#cmbyn roll the dice challenge #fanfic #oliver pov #elio and oliver #cmbynrollthedicechallenge

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ask-de-writer · 4 years

Text

CAPTURED BY THE CLANS : Part 9 of 10 : Science Fiction

Return to Science Fiction

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CAPTURED BY THE CLANS

Part 9 of 10

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

18231 words

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Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights. They may reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information remains intact. They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions.

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

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New to the story? Read from the beginning. Part 1 is HERE.

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Lezon turned her attention from T’cass alone to include the others. She told them all, “I was given the task of finding possible ships for your consideration. This morning, I used your comm unit to conduct a rough search. I stored the results in the file, SHIPS. The results are tiered by price in Clan Credit. I am not sure of your resources or I could have done better.”

K’ress and M’rel both thanked Lezon for her work. They had already learned that T’cass expected Lezon to be treated like a member of the clan, not a slave. They were truly amused that Lezon had already found the kitchen and set out serving cages with snacks to start their day.

They spent the morning looking over Lezon’s research list. Even with the end of a war, it was depressingly small. Less than a hundred appeared to be usable choices. One was a true antique.

Lezon pointed to the antique. “It is cheap and the information claims that it is flyable. Even with the cost of a refit, it will come to less than any of the others. Also, I can get you a discount on the refit.”

Now all three of the others gazed at Lezon as if her fur were falling out in patches. T’cass pointed out, “No shipyard on the planet will even touch anything over a hundred years old. Do you have any idea just how old that thing is?”

Lezon nodded, “If I remember my class information from the war correctly, that ship was made about one hundred and seventy-five to one hundred and fifty-six years ago. If it really is flyable, that’s why we want it.”

M’rel looked at K’ress and remarked, “Perhaps you were right about that psychiatric evaluation.”

T’cass asked, “How can you get a refit if no yard on the planet will do it?”

Lezon pointed out with a smile, “I know the Feront. It has two ring fusion city ships here for Treaty Commission scrap work. It has already agreed to do a scrap based refit of this ship, the D’ancer. We pay for parts at scrap price and it will give me the labor.”

Skeptically, M’rel asked, “Why would it forgo the profit? Friendship?”

“Partly,” Lezon grinned, “and partly sense of humor.”

All three gazed at Lezon as if they were trying to see inside her skull and figure out what was there. It was an interesting effort. T’cass spoke up first, saying, ��I know the Feront too, and I never realized that it had a sense of humor.”

Lezon grinned hugely. “It most definitely does. Remember when it presented itself to be made a member of the Treaty Commission? All those gaudy uniforms and titles? They mean nothing to the Feront. One of its organic units is the same as any other to it. It was laughing at our rank system, which it still thinks is hilarious.

“That sense of humor worked to our advantage this morning. While I was on the comm to the Feront, a bureaucrat from the Planetary Resources Committee interrupted our call with a priority override. The Feront took her call and we switched to one of the twelve empty channels. The Resources Committee changed their call frequency to kick me off again. She told the Feront that no slave had anything to say that should distract its attention from the needs of the Planetary Government.

“When we could talk again, the Feront told me that the ‘needs of the Planetary Government’ were now firmly placed on its priority list. Just below mine.”

T’cass suddenly grinned wide herself and exclaimed, “Well managed Conflict! That is beautiful! Now, explain to me why we want a ship that dates to the earliest days of Inertial Drives. The spec sheet says that it can generate less than one standard G of acceleration. That is why that old hulk needs a reaction drive with a huge tank of liquid mass just to get off the ground. The interstellar fusion ramjet igniter is disassembled and less than half the ship’s volume is habitable. The power capsule can barely hold enough energy to get us to a close star, let alone the long range trading that we are planning.”

Lezon heard T’cass out, nodding agreement at every point. When T’cass ran down, she added, “Actually it can’t get out of the system, yet. It only has liftoff and in-system flight certificates. What makes it valuable is that it was built to lift off routinely at six G’s of uncompensated acceleration. It has a nine G red line which includes lateral maneuvers in an atmosphere as well. Only a System Siege Cruiser or a Battleship can take as much.

“Besides, because it’s such an antique, it’s dirt cheap. You should get out of the refit to Clan Family Class B Freight with a total cost of Clan Cr 250,000.”

Three heads turned to each other, eyes narrow in calculation. K’ress started to ask, “Where is all that cargo space coming from?” She suddenly got it and answered her own question, “The reaction mass tank, of course! It’s huge!”

The others began to nod in understanding. “We could at least go and look at it,” they agreed.

On the scrap field, they stood and looked up. The D’ancer still stood solidly on her landing jacks. The personnel port near her tail was gaping open. Lezon left the group and began to critically examine the seals on the port. K’ress joined her followed by T’cass.

The salesperson began to show nervousness and smiled ingratiatingly saying, “Really, now that you’ve looked at this thing, I have several good ships that have current certificates. They will pay themselves off in only a few years!”

Dryly, M’rel responded, “We saw. Clan Family Class J Freight. Way overpriced in this market, too.” She then called over to them, “What do you think, Guys? Will it make a good amusement park ride?”

The salesperson nearly choked. “You mean to actually fly this thing? With customers?”

M’rel looked brightly at her and said innocently, “Why your advertisement, dated only two months back, says that it comes with liftoff and In-System Flight Certificates. With only a little refurbishing of the interior it should make an exciting ride for the kits! Lots of noise, clouds of steam and an uncompensated three G blastoff to two hundred thousand feet! I can’t imagine a more exciting ride! Can you?” She batted her eyelashes at the salesperson, who was suddenly looking sick.

K’ress poked her head out the port and gestured to the salesperson, “Come in here, please!” she demanded. Inside, they all climbed the ladder over a hundred feet up to the engine control bay.

The power capsule lay heavy in its cradle. The big superconducting cables were laying like snakes across the floor, out of their clips and racks. The case of the Inertial Drive Control Computer was open and cables with empty connectors hung out. Several boards were clearly missing. Lezon was busily sorting the boards and components of the ramjet fusion ignitor.

“Madams,” she said deferentially to T’cass and the others, “the advertisement claims that the fusion igniter is complete but disassembled. This is not true. The entire ignition injector and initiator are missing. There are at least three control boards missing as well.” Without waiting, she swung agilely up the ladder to the control room.

T’cass, M’rel, and K’ress saw Lezon’s tiny ‘thumbs up’ signal as she reported, “Madams, this vessel was misrepresented. They have claimed In-System and Liftoff certificates. The entire navigational computer, the detection system and the life support control panel have been removed.”

K’ress turned to the salesperson and addressed her almost compassionately. “Yanking that stuff proves that this bird was headed for scrap. At scrap she’s not worth Cr 45,000. We’ll do you a favor. We’ll take her for Cr 60,000 but you have to earn that fifteen.

“We supervise all the work. Run us some tests. Charge the power capsule to ninety gigawatts. Run chill and superconductivity testing on all the cables. Replace the nav computers and detection system with anything that works well enough for orbital hopping. Put in any Inertial Drive Controller and program it for a .75 G max push. Run the Inertial Drive at .75 G for one hour. Replace the lock seals and pressure test the hull.”

The salesperson saw profit fleeing out the exhaust and started to retort, “Cr 100,000! That’s saving you ten grand! Strictly an as is sale at that price. You want certificates, they’re extra. Cough up!” Her eye caught T’cass inputting a connection on her comm. She had selected for a vision and speaker connection.

Several reptilian heads appeared in the vision field. Two homed on Lezon and one on T’cass. The others were looking about at what they could see of the control room. They all spoke at once in the typically polyphonic voice of the Feront, “Friends! T’cass, I have not seen you since your battle input at M’onafar! Most clever. I have made many notes in the Treaty Commission Archive about that battle.

“I was informed by servant Lezon that you will be buying a ship soon. Is this it? Shall I send inspection for T.C. certificates?”

Pleased, T’cass responded, “It is good to see you again, friend Feront. Yes, this is the vessel. It is advertised with certificates. The advertisement was forwarded to you under a T.C. seal already.” The saleswoman made a choking noise.

The scanning heads of the various units of the Feront scrutinized the cabin through the comm field and it responded, “This vessel is presently in violation of its advertised certification. The fine will be Cr 250,000 if it is presented in this condition. I hope that the missing equipment is merely out for repair or replacement.”

Desperately, the salesperson said, “Of course! We are still negotiating on details. There may be a down grade of certification, for a reduced price, of course!”

Several of the Feront had wandered out of the transmission field and others had wandered in but it spoke seamlessly, “This is reasonable. How much time is needed for flight certificate issuance?”

Glaring at T’cass, the salesperson said, “About a month. The vessel is an old one and we need to sure that equipment interfaces are safe.”

The polyphonic voice said, “I will see you in a month’s time, then, unless you call sooner, friends T’cass and servant Lezon.” The field went snowy blank and faded.

T’cass folded her comm smiling. To the salesperson she said, “The way I see it, giving us this ship with the repairs I stated would save you about Cr 190,000. Still, you have an investment to recoup and some profit to make. Cr 65,000?”

The salesperson avoided T’cass’ hand as she stalked for the ladder muttering, “We have to go to the office for the paperwork.”

It is hard to sulk while climbing down over a hundred feet of ladder but the salesperson managed it. With ill grace she waited for them to board her flitter for the run to the office. She tried to shut out Lezon but T’cass simply blocked the flitter door open with her body until Lezon was securely aboard.

In only three weeks the D’ancer was ready for her first liftoff in over sixty years. The Feront sent four of itself down to conduct the Treaty Commission inspection. It scattered throughout the ship, testing equipment in skilled claws. After a short time, one of it closed the ports.

“Pressure test,” observed K’ress calmly. Turning to the salesperson, she said, “Your people did a first rate job. Second hand parts but all serviceable. Clean mating of new gear and old, too.”

Resigned to the situation, the sales person replied, “Thanks. It was a dirty trick, getting that thing volunteer to do the inspection right off the bat, that way. It takes us from two weeks to three months to get the T.C. off their butts and over here. How come it’s so prompt for you?”

K’ress jerked a thumb at T’cass and Lezon. “Them. They both know the Feront and call it just to make small talk. I gather that they are among the few friends that it has. It was no coincidence that the Feront sent two fusion ring city ships to this system. It wanted to talk. Godesses! How they talk! Hours at a time!”

The hatches opened and all four of the Feront hopped out and swarmed down the crew ladder. Some of it facing M’rel and K’ress, some the salesperson, the Feront pronounced polyphonically, “The vessel, D’ancer, now has certificates installed for assisted reaction drive launch and high orbit work near to inhabited spheres.”

All four of its units turning as one, it descended on T’cass and Lezon like a pile of happy kits. “May I play with your entities again? I have thought of a possible strategy that may put you to a disadvantage!”

The sales person unbelievingly saw the slave that she’d snubbed so meanly at first meeting, leap to the back of one of the Feront creatures. She was calling, “T’cass, can we? It will only delay launch by a few hours!” Wheedlingly she added, “It will help our goodwill with the Feront. That could pay us well.”

M’rel ran it down like an accountant. “We have pad space paid here for two more days. The house lease isn’t up for four more days. A few hours? Go play, you kits! Just be here in six hours to lift this clunker into orbit for the rest of its refit.”

TO BE CONTINUED

<==PREVIOUS ~ NEXT==>(link not yet active)

Return to Science Fiction

Return to the Master Story Index

#CAPTURED BY THE CLANS #Part 9 of 10 #Science Fiction #Written by De Writer

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sinfulwonders · 4 years

Note

👀

Here’s a Komahina WIP I’m working on! It’s super hard to write Nagito! x_x

---

Nagito Komaeda knew he was a worthless, scum-of-the-earth person, who had a pathetic talent barely even fit to be called such, and yet in all his pitiful years on this planet he had never felt more mortified.

Because here he was, the Super High School Level Luck, hidden behind a tree staring at the brown-haired boy. The brown haired boy wearing a reserve course uniform.

Nagito had absolutely no respect for the reserve course. They were all talentless wannabes, even worse than trash such as himself. Just rich kids whose gullible parents paid exorbitant amounts of money in hopes that their offspring would become less depressingly inadequate by rubbing shoulders with people of actual talent.

It was truly pathetic.

The only thing more pathetic was the fact that Nagito had now been following this no-name, talentless, brunette for the past hour, stalking him as he moved along campus, because of the fleeting possibility that he could find out that he’d been issued the wrong uniform in an unfortunate mix-up.

Because no one who looks like that could be talentless…

---

It was the first time that Nagito had seen this mystery boy on campus. He had short, spiky, brown hair, the kind of hair that Nagito wanted to run his fingers through to see if it was natural or gelled. His green eyes scrunched up into small slits as he laughed with the girl standing in front of him, his beautiful lips curling into a smile Nagito wanted to cause all on his own. He let a dreamy grin befall his face as he tried to imagine what kind of amazing talent the boy possessed.

He looks like he could be athletic, maybe he’s the ultimate tennis player? Or basketball? I’d bet he’d be great at anything. Ultimate smile? Hmm, I don’t think that’s a talent necessarily. Ooh ultimate lover? That’s too self-indulgent…

It was only when the ultimate luckster watched the boy of his fantasizes shrug off his jacket that he stopped fantasizing. The boy.

That…can’t…it’s not possible!

The perfect, beautiful boy was wearing a reserve course uniform.

But that… couldn’t be right.

So, this was why the ultimate luck had taken to stalking the spiky-haired brunette for the day. He needed to know why, because there was absolutely no chance.

No chance that Nagito Komaeda was attracted to a talentless reserve course student.

Right?

So the boy concluded that it must have been some sort of mistake.

It has to be a mistake.

So when Nagito watched Chiaki Nanami walk up to the boy, a small hopeful feeling welled up in his chest. They sat next to each other and laughed like close friends.

Nanami knows him. Maybe he’s not a reserve course student after all! She would never befriend someone so lowly as a reserve course student, right?

He knew it was wishful thinking, and that he’d had a good luck streak recently so it would probably end in disappointment, but the hope inside of him was too tempting. He had to know.

So that was why Nagito made his way over to Chiaki Nanami and the mystery boy.

“Ah, hello Nanami-san, how are you today?” He smiled kindly as the two glanced up from whatever game they were playing together.

Chiaki yawned in response, “Sleepy…”

The mystery boy chuckled in response, “Well that’s no surprise.”

Nagito turned to face the brunette, “I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure of being introduced. I’m Nagito Komaeda.”

“Hajime Hinata.” A laidback smile covered Hajime’s face, and Nagito felt as if he was melting into it.

The boy took a sip of his drink as Nagito continued, “Hinata-kun, so nice to meet you! How do you know Nanami-san? You must have some classes together!”

Hajime practically choked on his drink, “Ah- ah no. No…classes together.”

“Random encounter…” Chiaki mumbled as she had gone back to focusing on whatever game they had been playing.

“Oh of course! What an incredibly hopeful encounter! And then we met the same way… What luck!” Nagito beamed down at the now uncomfortable boy looking up at him.

Nanami sighed and looked up at her game to Hajime, “Don’t worry Hinata, he does this a lot. He’s a nice guy though.”

Nagito’s grin grew wider, “What a compliment from the Ultimate Gamer! How lucky I am to be gifted such kind words from such an amazingly talented individual!” Nagito then turned to Hajime, “And what, pray tell, is your talent Hinata-kun? It must be an amazing one.”

Please. Please. Please.

Hajime looked down at his feet, “Sorry to disappoint you Komaeda…but I-”

No.

“I don’t have a talent.”

Nagito had just seen this strange boy for the first time today, and just met him moments ago, but he still couldn’t help but fill betrayed. He felt his world crashing down on him. He also felt terribly angry.

He stood there silently, long enough that Chiaki once again glanced up from her game. She saw the look on Nagito’s face and sighed, “Komaeda…”

“How can you lower yourself so much that you’re hanging out with talentless scum?” Nagito spat, glaring at the lesser being before him.

“Hinata is not lesser, Komaeda.”

“How can you even say that? I’m disappointed in you Nanami-san,” He pointed his glare towards her until he was suddenly moving.

Ah. I’m being pushed.

“Hey! Don’t talk to her that way!”

#komahina #Nagito Komaeda #Hajime Hinata #danganronpa #Chiaki Nanami #sorry it ends in a particularly weird spot #wip

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elenamcwrites · 4 years

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folklore - a reading

If you’re a swiftie (officially not capitalized now), like me, you’ve probably been experiencing the mystical reverb and spiritual reckoning that is folklore. You’ve also probably been reading plenty of reviews and analysis articles--there are some stellar articles out there already.

Listening to the album is like lying in a meadow over the course of a summer day, afternoon thunderstorm, and the harsh sunset that comes afterwards, spiraling through memories and contemplation. It’s the best of the worst feelings you’ll ever have, and you can’t stop.

So, compulsively, I had to share my own interpretations and thoughts as I listen to the album again for the 7th time.

the 1 - Starting out with just piano, and then turning into what feels like a casual bop, the attitude of this song starts out very ‘I Forgot That You Existed’. And we hold onto that cavalier, ‘oh well’ attitude until... UNTIL. “If my wishes came true, it would’ve been you.” That line starts the slow ache that builds through the end of the track and makes this song much more more layered and complex than the first song of Lover. Perhaps this is a more honest version of the same feeling. Swift digs deep into that nostalgic feeling, letting us vibe to the wistful wishing at the same time. And of course, there is foreshadowing in the lyrics--film, graves, rose, chosen-family, painting. All of these reappear later on in various songs on the album, and some have been themes from earlier albums, too (especially graves).

Highlight lyric: “In my defense I have none // for digging up the grave another time.”

cardigan - We start with a beat that sounds reminiscent of “high heels on cobblestones,” and it emphasizes this early imagery. Being young is one of the major themes of this song, even though it’s also part of the triptych of songs about a love triangle. The nostalgia feels more specific to young love generally than to the specific lover, asking us to wonder why we judge the young perspective so harshly. The song is an anthem to how much she knew about love, including the pain of it, despite what people say. Swift has shown a special appreciation for the wisdom and raw experience of youth, and this song is another classic defense of the teenage experience. The metaphors in this song are classic Swift, and the structure of this song is reminiscent of ‘All Too Well’--the chorus lyrics change just a bit each time, and we get a powerful, gut-punch verse at the end.

Highlight lyric: “I knew you’d haunt all of my what-ifs // the smoke would hang around this long // cause I knew everything when I was young.”

the last great american dynasty - ‘The Man’ was probably Swift’s first real feminist anthem, directly stating how sexism affects her career and the perception people have of her. But this song gets at feminism from another perspective. First of all, she’s telling the story of Rebekah Harkness, who was the heiress that lived in her Rhode Island mansion before her. She was a trouble-maker in her town, blamed for her husband’s death and for ruining the calm status quo of the old money neighborhood. It’s completely apparent that Swift relates to this experience, and she likely knew some of this story before she purchased her home. In telling the story of a powerful, interesting woman, Taylor is rebelling against the patriarchy in a slightly subtler way than her previous songs--though she still makes her point pretty clear. Swift cares about the herstory of her home, and she’s made this story iconic by including it on her album. It’s like she took the idea of ‘Starlight,’ but instead of retelling a happy love story, she used her powers for an even more important tale. Now, there are also two potential connections to note: Rebekah also went by Betty, and her maiden name was West. Just remember that. And of course, the theme of the mad woman returns later as well.

Highlight lyric: “who knows if I never showed up what would have been // there goes the most shameless woman this town has ever seen // she had a marvelous time ruining everything.”

exile - I like to imagine this song as the follow up to ‘The Last Time,’ from Red. Both are duets, and they both have relatively simple, but strong chords as the primary musical backdrop. Where ‘The Last Time’ depicts a relationship at the cusp, moments before their final conversation, ‘exile’ is post break-up. She’s out with someone new, and we understand this is an unspoken conversation across a room. And the vibe of the songs fit with this progression perfectly. ‘The Last Time’ feels like anxious desperation, but exile feels heavy and depressingly final. We revisit the film motif, and there’s some potential connection to the archived ‘If This Was A Movie’. Now, is that intentional, or does Swift just really like movie imagery? Does it matter? The build in this song is arguably the best on the album, which I think is partly due to the style of the musicality, and partly because it’s helpful to have a lower voice to mix it up. This song sounds the least ‘Swift-esque’ to me--reminds me of Damien Rice most of all--but it still fits beautifully into the album. Also, lots of callbacks in here--town and crown are used a LOT in her prior albums. A few examples: “You traded your baseball cap for a crown” in ‘Long Live’, “They took the crown but it's alright” in ‘Call it What You Want,’ “Staring out the window like I’m not your favorite town” in ‘False God.’ Now, again, these could just be words that she loves to use (they also rhyme with a lot), or there could be some deeper connections. I’m guessing it’s somewhere in the middle.

highlight lyric: “second, third, and hundredth chances // balancin' on breaking branches // those eyes add insult to injury”

my tears ricochet - I’ll admit this song had to grow on me a little bit. Why? Well, I don’t love revenge-ballads. But, this is much more complex than LWYMMD, and like the rest of the album, it centers the more vulnerable side of her anger. This song is 100% about Big Machine Records and Scooter Braun. The funeral is for her--or the version of herself that died just before Reputation--and she is back as a ghost (or another version of herself) to haunt those who caused her death. It’s slow, moody, haunted... Everything you want from a bitter funeral march. The best part of this song is that she doesn’t solely pass blame. She shows off her self-awareness, which has become more common in all her music since 1989, but still very clearly places responsibility on Scooter for her ‘stolen lullabies’ (i.e. her masters). Swift claims this song is about young love gone wrong--but, death is a pretty intense metaphor, and given that she blatantly used it (for the first, and maybe only time?) to talk about her career, I don’t think anyone is buying it.

highlight lyric: “I didn’t have it in myself to go with grace // and you’re the hero flying around saving face”

mirrorball - Maybe I’m just a biased toward romantic and nostalgic songs, because I don’t love this one either. (I’m sorry!) But, here’s what I’ll say: this song is still exquisite. It reminds me of the reverb-radio-vibe of the late 80s songs, but with the astral, saccharine flavor of the rest of the album. If you condensed the Miss Americana documentary into a song, this would be it. A reflection (get it?) of fame and her desire to be everything to everyone--to be well liked, to be the center of attention. The coolest thing about ‘mirrorball,’ to me, is that she hasn’t written a song quite like this before. It’s sort of a manic-pixie-dream-girl version of herself. Swift is telling us that she knows who she is, and that comes with seeing the less ‘pretty’ side.

highlight lyric: “I’m still a believer, but I don’t know why // I’ve never been a natural, all I do is try, try try.”

seven - Can you say haunting innocence? This is a great song for half-attentive listening in the sun, and it could almost be a lullaby. In Swift-lore, the theme of childhood shows up every so often, like in ‘Mary’s Song,’ ‘The Best Day,’ ‘It’s Nice to Have a Friend,’ and ‘Christmas Tree Farm.’ This one is definitely the most dreamy, and it is also tinged with that darkness that consistently underlies all the tracks on this album--“Are there still beautiful things?” Imagine a sepia filter, and that’s kind of what this song embodies. Some fans have wondered about this song as a possible hint to bisexuality and/or relationships with women in general. (See Kaylor fan theories if you want to dive deep.) I can see this--the childhood friend has braids, which could imply she’s a little girl, and they ‘hide in the closet’. However, it seems more likely to me that this is coincidence. Lots of kids play in their closets, and if the song is about the friend’s father being angry all the time (and maybe abusive?) hiding in the closet also makes literal sense. I think the imagery in this song is some of my favorite on this album.

Another interesting point that I haven’t seen discussed so far is that Swift names this song ‘seven’ spelled out, yet uses the number ‘1′ in the first track title. The only other track she uses numbers in the name is ‘22′, which is about being 22. So, she could be trying to push past the idea that ‘seven’ is just about being 7 years old--though I do think it’s about that, too. She could also be intentionally connecting ‘the 1′ to ‘22′ in some way. They are both a similar vibe, and perhaps they even refer to the same time period in her life. If we go with that theory, who was T dating at 22? The most likely candidate for that timeframe is Conor Kennedy, which was sort of short-lived, and didn’t seem to end with as much fire as many of her break-ups. So, it’s possible that it’s about him. Or, maybe she just wanted to make sure we knew that ‘the 1′ was a concept she doesn’t really believe in anyway, and didn’t want to grant it the full word ‘one’. Will we ever know?

highlight lyric: “Before I learned civility // I used to scream // Ferociously // Any time I wanted”

august - It seems clear to me that this is the second song in the love-triangle narrative. I’ve heard people claim this is ‘illicit affairs’, but those people obviously haven’t looked at the lyrics. The narrator says ‘James, get in the car,’ which is directly connected to the lyrics in ‘betty.’ But, even without that obvious link, the style of august fits in with the stylistic choices of ‘cardigan’ and ‘betty’. All three have strong instrumental tracks complementing the vocals, soft harmonies, and lots of wistful lyrics. ‘illicit affairs’ cuts much sharper and deeper, but more on that later. Combining the dreamy vibes of ‘seven’ with the slight bop of ‘the 1′, this track is sticky--easy to get stuck in your head. The only thing I wonder about this song is how old this narrator is meant to be. They’re drinking wine, and she references going ‘back to school,’ which sort of feels like a reference to the college experience. But, the betty and james characters make numerous references that feel like high school. So, maybe this affair took place in another city with a college girl? I have to wonder if this is Swift referencing some of the age-gap relationships she’s been in. Again, with Conor Kennedy, she was 22, and he was 18. She also supposedly crashed his sister’s wedding in August, and that was the start of the end of their short romance. I’m just saying...

highlight lyric: “Wanting was enough, for me it was enough // to live for the hope of it all.”

this is me trying - If ‘The Archer’ was Swift confessing to her bad habits after a couple early relationship fights, ‘this is me trying’ is a desperate reminder a few months into the relationship. The two songs are sonically very similar, and I didn’t love the vibe (sorry, again!) the first time. But, I do love the artistic continuation. ‘this is me trying’ slows us down even more than ‘The Archer’ did, with a drum line that is almost like a heart beat, and it feels much less hopeful as a result. The lyrics are also some of the darkest I’ve heard from Swift--”I got wasted like all my potential” and “could’ve followed my fears all the way down.” My heart almost can’t handle this song, to be honest. She also references films again, but my favorite imagery connection is her standing over the lookout, which calls back to Rebekah looking out over the sea in LGAD.

highlight lyric: “and maybe I don't quite know what to say // but I'm here in your doorway”

illicit affairs - This song has that ‘All Too Well’ ache with a hint of ‘Death by A Thousand Cuts’ energy, and personally, I love it. You’ve got the busy instrumental strings underneath a simple, yet haunting melody line, and it’s that light, anxious tension that fits beautifully with the theme of the song. The lyrics depict the simple, small heartbreaking things that remind you of the pain you’re putting yourself through, which is reflected in the slightly surprising, soaring note at the end of the line in the verses. Whether you’ve actually been involved in an affair, these feelings show up in plenty of toxic relationships, and that universality is part of what makes the song powerful. The lyrics aren’t about pretty images, but that’s sort of the point. It’s prime Swift conversational lyricism, and you could pick out any number of lines that make a painful short poem all by themselves.

highlight lyric: “and you wanna scream // don’t call me “kid,” don’t call me “baby” // look at this godforsaken mess that you made me // you showed me colors you know I can’t see with anyone else”

invisible string - The primary love song on the album, this feels like a follow up to ‘Lover,’ maybe something she’d sing after being married a year or two. It’s sort of like ‘Mine,’ but much more mature, partly indicated by the pace of the song, which is steady and sure of itself. It’s also lovely to me that she’s returned to a bit of her country vibes--I ask you, would it feel like true end-game love for Swift if she couldn’t write a country love song about it? Back when she wrote country, all her happy ending songs were merely aspirational, and now they feel true. This is also 100% about Joe Alwyn, and to me, this is proof they have not broken up like some early reviews speculated. We also need to acknowledge that she’s past the Joe Jonas break up (um, good, that was ages ago) and is sending him and Sophie presents for their baby. I read a review that basically said this song seems a little too ‘all tied up’ for Swift, and that it doesn’t feel as genuine as a result. I sort of agree, but if we can take a sad song and accept that it isn’t how she feels 100% of the time, can’t we also do that with happy songs? Plus, she technically does say that it would be ‘pretty to think,’ which sort of implies it’s more a thought experiment than an actual belief. So, there’s that little twinge of sadness we needed to appease the folklore goddess. Oh, and of course, there’s a reference to Lover’s color scheme, saying time “gave me the blues and then purple-pink skies.” Which, many Kaylor hopefuls read as a reference to the Bi pride flag. To that, I just say... Maybe?

highlight lyric: “time, mystical time // cutting me open, then healing me fine”

Mad woman - My favorite thing about this song is the piano melody that happens in the background the whole song, working in concert with the main melody, but also completely independent (and haunting). It reminds me of one concept of madness--having multiple voices or thoughts going on simultaneously. But of course, it’s artfully and perfectly put together, which is the whole point. What could be perceived as madness is, in this case, what makes her able to create a masterful work of art. Now, this is also certainly a song about her masters, Scooter Braun, and Scott Borchetta. But it is also another feminist anthem. Women are taught not to be angry, not to yell, not to react with any emotionality otherwise we are discredited entirely. Swift directly calls this to attention by explaining that we’re angry for a reason--often antagonized intentionally until ‘you find something to wrap your noose around.’ She also makes the important point that women can also ‘hunt witches,’ and can be complicit in treating one another poorly. This is a reference to Scooter Braun’s wife defending him publicly against Taylor. Probably the most savage line is about the ‘master of spin’ having affairs, which she implies his wife knows about and seems to passively accept. But Swift doesn’t go too hard on her, reminding us that ‘no one likes a mad woman’, and that pressure is real. Could this ‘master of spin’ also be Scooter? I think probably. But I did read that some people are connecting this song to Hillary Clinton (she’s a scorpio, and the song references a scorpion sting), and that maybe Trump is the adulterer here... I feel like that’s a stretch, but I appreciate the interpretation.

highlight lyric: “What a shame she went mad // You made her like that”

epiphany - I suspect this song is directly related to how Swift is processing the current state of the pandemic. The atmospheric vibe with slow, clock-ticking beat in the background really feels momentous and poignant. Yes, she starts with images conjured from her grandfather’s stories of World War II, but she quickly seems to compare this awful battle to the doctors fighting COVID-19 on the frontlines in hospitals. The lyrics are simple, repetitive, and powerful. With so many ill literally struggling to breathe, the lines about breathing out really do hit especially hard these days. I can’t believe that wasn’t a thoughtful choice. The chorus is just barely hopeful, reminiscent of the numbness we all have to use as a coping mechanism to get through traumatic experiences. But it’s that little sliver of hope that makes the song even sadder--is that possible?

highlight lyric: “only twenty minutes to sleep // but you dream of some epiphany // just one single glimpse of relief // to make some sense of what you've seen”

betty - Give me all that Tim McGraw, Love Story, early Taylor pop-country. This song is definitely enhanced in part because of its connections to ‘cardigan’ and ‘august,’ but it stands strong on its own. It’s old news at this point, but James and Inez are based on the names of Blake Lively and Ryan Reynolds’s daughters, so it’s all-but-confirmed that their third daughter was named Betty. Written from the perspective of James, there is massive speculation out there about whether the narrator is meant to be a boy or a girl. There are reasonable clues on both sides, so I’ll just say this: I love Taylor, but she’s always been a little late to the party when it comes to socialized ideas of male/female. Because of that, I don’t think she’d have a female narrator riding a skateboard. I also feel from the style of narration--“I don’t know anything;” “just a summer thing;” “would you tell me to go fuck myself”--it does sound more like stereotypical teenage boy language than what we know as swiftie teenage girl language. What I do like about this song, though, is that because it’s written from James’s perspective, it does sort of leave a wider opening for personal interpretation than some of her other love-story-like songs. The reason I personally love this song is that it’s mostly about redemption and forgiveness. Everyone has wished someone who broke their heart would write this song about them, and so it offers catharsis. Plus, it’s the only song on the album that truly feels happy at the end--thanks, key change! It’s refreshing and heartening, and it’s good timing, too. After the heaviest song on the album, we needed it. (Oh, and there’s a callback to the broken cobblestones from ‘cardigan’. And then he literally mentions her cardigan. So.)

highlight lyric: “if you kiss me // will it be just like I dreamed it? // will it patch your broken wings?”

peace - The vibe of this song is like laying on your couch in the summer with light coming in through the blinds and the ceiling fan is going around just fast enough to keep the warm air circulating, but not really cool you off. This song has a hint of ‘False God’ style, a little jazzy, but otherwise, it’s a pretty fresh feel for Swift. The message fits this thoughtful, lightly antsy feeling. She’s basically saying she wants to start a family with Joe (no, I don’t think she is literally pregnant yet) and settle down, but there is no real ‘settling down’ with her level of fame. I also think that Swift truly enjoys making music, performing, and engaging with her fans, and she doesn’t want to leave that life behind any time soon. So, she’s asking him if he can make that work. It’s, again, a mature vision of what a long-term relationship can actually look and feel like. Not all of us can truly relate to the burdens of fame, but there are other ways we can be unable to ‘give you peace’. No relationship is idyllic forever in the way romantic love often makes it out to be, and this song gives us a more realistic, consistent example. And just in case we thought this was just a nice song, the whole ‘clowns to the West’ is another potential Easter egg. In the lyric video, east is not capitalized, but West is. Most likely, this is a dig at Kanye. If we want to believe Taylor wasn’t being vengeful, it could potentially be a reference to Rebekah (West was her maiden name). I lean toward theory one, although it’s kind of amazing that it works out such that it connects to both.

highlight lyric: “but I'm a fire and I'll keep your brittle heart warm // if your cascade ocean wave blues come”

hoax - (Phew last one--I don’t have access to ‘the lakes’ yet) Swift can’t end the album without bringing us all back to the raw emotional space she opened up within us. This song brings back similar piano lines from ‘mad woman’ and the image of screaming on the cliffside. Chronologically, ‘hoax’ feels like it takes place after or during the death of her reputation, i.e. the feud with Kim and Kanye, when she was still very vulnerable. Based on timeline, this seems likely to be either Calvin Harris or Tom Hiddleston. It could really be some combination of the two, since many songs aren’t really about just one person. My gut tells me it’s primarily about Calvin, since she’s referenced that they didn’t have a very faithful relationship--”your faithless love’s the only hoax I believe in.” Both relationships travelled a lot--“I left a part of me in new york.” I’m guessing she’s referencing the feud with Harris over her writing credit on ‘This is What You Came For.’ She takes attacks on her career as seriously as hurtful relationships, and since she’s referencing being torn apart by the media when she says that “what you did was just as dark,” I think it’s likely that this also has something to do with hurting her reputation. It’s another hauntingly beautiful song, and you can totally imagine yourself out on that cliff looking at the midnight sea as the piano line ends.

highlight lyric: “you knew the password, so I let you in the door // you knew you won, so what's the point of keeping score?”

---------------------------------------------

Overall, the album is my favorite of Taylor’s so far for two reasons: 1) the continuity in both theme and sound is stellar, and 2) there aren’t any songs that I don’t like. Usually, there are 1-3 songs on Taylor’s albums that are either forgettable or too on-the-nose for my taste. I’m sure that is a product, in part, of having to craft songs for radio-play and for her amazing, cinematic live shows. Having given herself the freedom to make whatever music she wanted without thinking (so much) about whether they’d top the charts or be good for a stadium concert, she made an album without a single ‘pop just because’ track.

Now the real question is... What will she do with the remaining 6 months of quarantine???

#taylor swift #swiftie #folklore #album thoughts #folklore thoughts #ts #ts8 #tswift #who else was supposed to go to lover fest?

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thelastthingyouremember · 5 years

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An Ode to my Favourite Rogues

So, apparently, our first major project for my creative writing class was to write a short essay to present to the class about the characters we’ve written or seen in books, plays, played out, etc. and how they’ve profoundly affected us to this day. Here second instruction after those presentations was that we had to post it. So here is that speech about my nerdiest obsession with my favourite D&D Rogues. Thanks for humouring me through this.

I started playing D&D a little over ten years ago with some friends in my best friend’s basement. My brother was trying his hand at DMing for the first time (and did it ever go miserably at eleven years old) and we rolled our characters a little after midnight the first week of summer vacation. We had no fucking idea what we wanted to be at all. My weird method at that point was basically a game of MASH where I ended up with a Chaotic Neutral, Rogue, cherry red Tiefling name Temerity.

I loved her immediately.

Ten years later, I was twenty and a veteran player and there was no character that could make me feel the same level of giddy excitement I had when I sat down to play her every week. She was all bright-eyed wonder, brash energy, and golden laughter and I don’t know if I could ever make a character as wonderful as her in my lifetime.

And then she died about a year ago, at level 20 so I can’t really complain, but it left me with this depressingly empty hole in my chest with her absence. I had to watch my own funeral and my in-game husband cry over my body and it was absolutely one of the worst experiences of my life. It was depressing and sad and miserable and I wouldn’t trade it for absolutely anything. I learned so much from my friends and party mates and the relationships and people we met along the way. My brother became a better storyteller, I became a better person, my friends and I are still going strong three years after we graduated high school and moved halfway around the country from each other.

It was a beautiful experience, but I still miss her a little bit even a year later and no, I definitely don’t care how sappy that makes me.

But my friends couldn’t leave it at that, oh no. A few months into our post-campaign blues, my brother sat me down and said, “we’re going to watch this show and you’re going to enjoy it with me from the beginning because I think I found Temerity’s twin”. So, begrudgingly, I sat down and watched the first episode of Campaign one of Critical Role.

Needless to say, I fell in love with the character of Vax’ildan immediately.

He was a fantastic reminder of my favourite D&D character ever and he had the same kind of golden brashness that I had come to love about the Rogue class. He loved his friends and he adored his sister and he devoted so much to Keyleth that it was a wonder he ever had any love left over for himself at the end. He was one of the first big characters that I related to on a personal level. He gave and gave and gave and rarely ever took and he was just too good and I wanted to be him, be like him, so badly.

He was a reminder of everything I loved about storytelling. After the first few episodes, it was impossible to not adore him and I could not wait to see where his story went.

It took me less than two months to get caught up to the endpoint and then I watched Vax’s death in real time with the rest of the Critters and the rest of the cast. It was just as traumatizing as having to sit at the table and watch my friends look at me with devastation in their eyes and then having to see it on these people who had taken hold of my imagination and ran away with my respect was...a new feeling.

But in the end, Liam O’Brien and Matthew Mercer were able to tell me and the rest of us a story that captured us and pulled us into a new world and made us care about these people that we didn’t know and ended up adoring beyond the ends of Exandria.

Vax’ildan and Temerity were two characters that I loved to show the kids I volunteered with as an example of the characters I tried to bring into the world. A few of them got incredibly excited about these stories and went on to explore the world of Exandria for themselves and ask me and my brother for stories from our campaign in Cephas. Starting a campaign with my “kids” and having at least three of them pull aspects from Temerity and Vax was one of my proudest moments as a storyteller.

These characters have given me a chance to explore stories and their impacts on people. They’ve given me a chance to explore how stories can build connections between disparate people, who didn’t have anything else in common other than they come together on Tuesday nights to live through their characters and create a world from nothing. They’ve given me a chance to create living breathing worlds where my friends and people I care about can have experiences that can help them develop into better people, better friends.

I adore Temerity and I’m still thanking Liam O’Brien to this day for Vax’ildan and what he means to me.

Thank you Liam for Vax.

Thanks big brother for Cephas and Temerity.

“Don’t forget to love each other.”

#d&d #storytelling #original character #vax'ildan #vax #liam o'brien #caleb widogast #family #temerity #rouges

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cjmommy4-blog · 5 years

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Labor & Delivery

My story begins at my 38 week check-up. Nothing out of the ordinary, but news I didn't expect. Induction. My OB offered to induce me. My eyes never appeared so wide-my husband would say. I didn't even think that was possible if you were having your first Child. BA there she was, offering me an induction as early as the following Wednesday. The risk involved- a possible c-section. I was a low-risk patient but still I was nervous and concerned. I was already 5cm dilated so my risk was even lower. I was still carrying high at this point so I seriously thought about scheduling it for Wednesday. The biggest reason to schedule was my short-term disability. My job didn't offer any maternity leave so I've been planning everything around short-term disability. The earlier in the week that I have the baby the better. However after discussing with my mother, I decided to wait until next week to see how things go. I decided that I wanted my son to have his own natural birth date. Ironically, that weekend, I begin to have excruciating back pain. My lower back was constantly on fire. It was so bad in fact I had to schedule an appointment for Wednesday before my regular appointment on that Thursday. Working up to that point was depressingly painful. Sitting, Standing,it didn't matter. What was more depressing is my OB wouldn't take me out of work early. No matter how much I begged and no matter now much painI was in, she wouldn't do it. And my job- yeah right. I couldn't even afford to take extra time off before my due date. When I got home that day, I went on a vigorous fast-paced walk. I could barely walk due to my pain, so I pushed myself hard. A co-worker had told me that walking could help with getting labor started. And would you know - At 2 am on May a, I started labor. At first I thought I just had to use the restroom. My stomach felt like it was being twisted and squeezed as if I had ate something rotten . "rushed out of bed, went to the restroom and 10 and behold, I used the restroom . so I went back to bed. It seemed like only 5 minutes later I had to go again. This time, I couldn't. I felt extremely constipated but my body wouldn't let me poop. Just saying. But that's when I realized, I was in labor. I cried out for my husband who was asleep on the couch but he didn't hear me . The pain was getting worse-fast! By the time I made it to the living room and woke him, I could barely stand when the contractions hit. I told my husband that I needed to go to the hospital but we didn't rush, because I was still in denial. Was I just having pain or was this the beginning of the Big Moment. Eventually we made it to the car. My husband basically had to c arry me to the car. Each contraction was more intense then the last. we called our parents on the way to the hospital and started mentally preparing for the Moment. We made it safely to the hospital despite my husband being in panic mode. Lord knows I had to soothe him down so he wouldn't run the red lights. I could see the frustration and worry on his face at every light we ended up getting Stopped at. In between every cry and scream I let out, I was trying to calm him down letting him know that I was ok. The nurse wheeled me to a room. She Stated asking me questions but I had no idea what words were coming out other mouth. You hare to understand. The contractions-were crippling. with every one my body curled up and wanted to fall to the floor. The nurse removed my pants and underwear for me, and laid me down in the bed. I could only talk in between the contractions. Every 5 minutes. Well the process Started. I wanted an epidural so they started me on fluids. Apparently its procedure and I wish I would have known that first because the next 45 minutes, I Stared At the third bag that was hooked up to my IV and waited for it to run OH so I could get the injection. It was the longest 45 minutes of my life. But when the fluids were done and I finally got the injection, it wonted almost immediately. I was the nice patient once again! Cause I promise you, if I had to wait any longer for that epidural somebody was going to die that morning whether it was the nurse who wouldn't stop asking me questions When I obviously couldn't speak, or my husband who was sitting ever so calmly on the couch in the room talking to our parents as they called. After the epidural, my parents arrived about 20 minutes later. His mother came about 5 hours later and his dad about hour after that. The doctors had to break my water and with that, they upped the pain medication I was receiving through the epidural. when I was about 80% effaced I had them up my dosage again. Unfortunately, that meant by the time I was ready to push, I couldn't feel the lower half of my body to push. As a result the doctor instructed my mother and one of the other nurses to hold my legs bent for me. let me you. Watching people move your legs for you and you cant feel it, is nerve wrecking. It was at that moment I wanted to burst into tears. I had no control over my body and I know I should feel them touching me but I couldn't. That in itself hurt my psyche. I fought back the urge to cry and scream and said to myself," you can do this!" And I did. I focused as hard as I could and found some type of way to push even though I couldn't feel myself push. I could hear the excitement as his head started to emerge. MY husband gasped but didn't faint. My mother squeezed my hand and offered words of encouragement but I have no idea what she said. I could hear my dad's phone clicking every time he took a photo. I could hear my mother-in-law moaning with anticipation. All was nothing but distractions. It came a point when I couldn't push. I didn't have the energy and there was too much going on. So I focused on the clock on the wall. I imagined that I could hear the ticking sound of every second that passed. Each tick I imagined helped me to focus on pushing to see my son. And when I did - The best moment of my life. I stared as the doctors raised this little human from below my legs and placed him on my belly. He was everything I dreamed he was. Eight hours from the first labor pains, my beautiful baby boy arrived. 10:51 am. Time momentarily stood still. Words can't describe the feeling but one day maybe you will get to experience it yourself. My little CJ was finally here. 39 weeks and l day later from when he was first conceived. My heart was re-born and my life changed again from that very moment. AII of the morning-sickness, pelvis pain, migraines, and back pain was all worth it. Thank you for reading. Please subscribe and keep us in your prayers.

#mom newmom parent new baby labor delivery maternity

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yakumtsaki · 7 years

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Welcome, dear readers, to the much anticipated Union Season 1 finale, featuring the diverse cast of well-developed characters we’ve all come to love, such as cheating whore #1, cheating whore #2, and my personal favorite, cheating whore #3. Also starring purple Hannibal Lecter, Melody Tinker’s sunglasses, and Leon Trotsky. Last update saw the erotic tension between resident porn-king Gunther and his brother’s intended, Regina George Brittany Upsnott finally boil over, leading to this harrowing image:

GOOD TIMES. Let’s pick up right where we left off..

.. namely precious Gunther immediately jumping into bed with Melody not two minutes after his close encounter of the Brit kind. Guns has been suspiciously loyal and un-gross ever since we moved out of the dorms, but apparently his goal for senior year is to out-worst everyone else in the house. What a comeback!

Meanwhile Brit is depressingly bowling her frustrations away under the unforgiving desert sky. Whaddup Brit, you must be dealing with some pretty complicated emotions right now.

-What?? No way, I’m totally, totally fine!

I mean sure, why wouldn’t you be, it’s not like you’ve fucked literally everything up. After spending half of college dealing with fucking HaremGate all I wanted was an uneventful senior year I could speed through, but that would be too easy now, WOULDN’T IT.

-The pins are you well-laid out plans for the future!

UGH Brit seriously, this isn’t happening. As in we’re gonna pretend it literally never happened, you’re gonna marry Daniel, Gunther is gonna marry Mel, everyone will live happily ever after and that’s the last I’m gonna hear of this bullshit.

BRIT THE FUCK DID I JUST SAY

-I’m just heartfarting, GAWD

Yea you’re also about to fucking serenade him in front of Mel, have you legit lost your mind??? Is this how the rest of this year will go, me chasing you around cancelling your dumbass actions?

-Probably! lolol!

-Aww Brit, if there was an award for best couple, we would definitely win it <3

-Oh please, Gunther and I have you totally beat!

-Yea right Mel, bet you §10 me and Brit are gonna move in together before you and Gunther do!

-…So how you liking that pizza, Gunther?

-…Oh it’s good, Brit, thanks for asking.

Meanwhile it looks like my restless Jojo/Wyatt reconciliation efforts have finally borne fruit! Good job, Wyatt!

-It’s no job, I’m just following mon coeur!

Nice, follow it all the way to redemption!

YASSSS. I can’t stress enough how many times Wyatt had to apologize to get us to this point, I’m talking half their awake time for 3 days. God. The whole thing has been an extremely repetitive nightmare but finally we can put it to rest. Much like we put Frances! BURN IN HELL

Finally, the universe has responded to my desperate pleas. I will even forgive the creepy ass llama because for once the cheering is completely appropriate. Reunited and it feels so good! Especially for me because if I had to press the apologize button one more time istg.

Well.. The universe giveth and the universe taketh away. Literally can’t leave these dicks unsupervised for more than a minute before they start slutting it up. WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU TWO

-Oh oh oh oh oh OH, caught in a bad romance <3

STOP SINGING INTO EACH OTHER’S MOUTHS. It’s time for drastic measures. Gunther is obviously unfamiliar with the concept of decency but maybe there’s still hope for Brittany..

..especially after Daniel gives her a high-class romantic evening! Looking great, Dan. Please stop picking your teeth.

-I’m so uncomfortable, my hair hasn’t seen the light of day since I was a toddler! I’m putting my cap back on.

DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT. Also suppress your gag reflex + every instinct in your body because it’s time-

-to hit Londoste! OOH LA LA

-Brit, I feel like we’re.. ridiculously overdressed.

-No such thing, darling!

-I’ll be having the filet mignon and a glass of the Veronaville ‘64, thank you.

-And I’ll be having chicken nuggets and a detailed report of the working conditions in this bourgie hellhole.

-DANIEL YOU PROMISED

-Let’s raise a glass to us and our magical evening together-

-Yes, and this delicious food, stained with the tears of the working farmhand-

-Daniel, please.

-My beloved ice queen, even though the diamond engagement ring “tradition” is another completely made up, SHAMELESS CAPITALIST SCAM, I just couldn’t bear the thought of wounding your gigantic, aggressively materialistic ego.. Marry me, my darling, be my Nadezhda!

-OH baby of course I’ll marry you! Everything before this moment doesn’t count, right?

-I mean.. sure?

-Great!

Yes, what a wonderful, subtle night.

-Oh Brit, you make me the happiest worker alive, which of course is a completely paradoxical state under capitalism!

AWW MEANT TO BE <3 Finally we can put that gross, freckled chapter behind us.

THAT’S RIGHT YOU BETTER RUN

-WOOO congrats for not cheating for an entire day, Gunther!

Our greek house is currently at a pathetic level 3 and it’s not hard to see why. As if the graves of Jojo’s former flames weren’t enough to put people off, imagine walking by and seeing this.

This shit is still going on and has reached the hate-boner point where these two have permanent wants to see each other’s ghost. So much for nice points!

Also going on: this bizzare, inexplicable feud that appeared literally out of nowhere.

-SHUT UP WYATT MAGIC ISN’T REAL

-IT SO IS MAGIQUE IS ALL AROUND US

Finals are upon us! Only one semester of this fuckery left. There are of course two kinds of people, the kind pictured above..

..and my peeps.

Gunther, who hasn’t done anything college related since we were back in the dorms and Blue Meatballs et al were writing his papers, somehow still has a 4.0 gpa. Wow Gunther, what’s your secret??

-It’s no secret, I banged the half-alien professor.

Oh right lmao. You’re looking pretty down boo, what’s wrong?

-Man idk, I’m struggling with what might be like.. legit feelings for Brit.

WHAT. WELL PUT THEM BACK WHERE THEY CAME FROM GUNTHER AND DRINK YOUR SORROWS AWAY LIKE AN ADULT. GOD

YOU TOO BRITTANY. ISTFG YOU ASSHOLES ARE NOT FUCKING THIS UP ANY FURTHER.

CAUSE HERE’S WHAT HAPPENED TO THE LAST PERSON WHO WENT OFF SCRIPT. Looking good, Fran!

…………………………poor Brittany obviously suffered a stroke at some unspecified point in time. As if she didn’t have enough problems.

SO. CLOSE. We just have to get through this one semester without the entire charade imploding, is that too much to ask????

APPARENTLY YES. GODDAMMIT GUNTHER

-The heart wants what it wants.

What DOES it want tho, Selena, cause last time I checked you were in love with Mel you GIANT ASS

-Yea, hell if I know! Huhu!

IF I HEAR YOU PEOPLE HUHU ONE MORE TIME

In equally distressing news Mickey Dosser was passing by and I invited him in just to see if he would go straight for the bubbles, which he of course did..

..a move so irresistible that Wyatt had to stop and swoon over him literally in the middle of his millionth Jojo apology. I’ve honestly never had a sim court death as persistently as Wyatt, dude straight up WANTS TO DIE.

-HOW DARE YOU WALTZ IN HERE AND TRY TO SEDUCE MY BOYFRIEND RIGHT BEFORE MY VERY EYES YOU VILE DISGUSTING SLOB

-Wut

-GET. OUT. BEFORE I STUFF YOU AND PUT YOU ON MY PORCH FOR HALLOWEEN

-Wyatt.. I sensed it was you.

-Of course, Jojό <3 I got your message, why did you send a raven, I’m just upstairs-

-SILENCE. I invited you here, to my favorite place on this entire wretched planet, the center around which revolves my very existence..

-..to ask you a very important question that I want you to CAREFULLY consider, taking into account that you’re standing next to the graves of the last people to betray me..

-Wyatt Monif, you must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you. Almost from the earliest moments of our acquaintance, I have come to feel for you a passionate admiration and regard, which despite all my struggles and your whoring around, has overcome every rational objection, and I beg you most fervently to relieve my suffering and consent to be my husband. Also to please ignore my brother woohooing in the hot tub behind us and ruining the moment.

-MON DIEU JOJÓ, OUI, OUI A THOUSAND TIMES OUI!! <3

-Wyatt.

-Oui? <3

-Please don’t make me murder you, ok? Promise?

-Never, Jojό!

AW, what a beautiful engagement you guys, I’m tearing up.

AND FINALLY, IT’S OVER. Gunther seriously graduated summa cum laude, how in the fucking world I legit dk but whatever!

The last supper.. The Union bros have all graduated and I’m gonna speed-play the rest through their last year. Also Daniel and Melody are bffs now, I didn’t even know they were talking but nice.

Time to go back where we came from! Ah, all grown up. It seems like yesterday they were toddlers surviving on cat food.

Brit is the youngest of the bunch and has the whole house to herself after Mel and Wyatt graduate, a situation she takes advantage of by ALMOST CHEATING WITH THE FUCKING LLAMA. BRIT ISTG

Finally, it’s time for Brit to leave our gross, incestuous cocoon. We’re gonna need a placeholder for the next generation tho, so as much as it pains me to say..

..it’s Frances time. Bitch literally scares Brit as she’s trying to resurrect him, way to make me doubt my merciful decision Fran!

Ugh great. Welcome back, Frances. I really did prefer you dead.

Yea, can’t make any promises there. I don’t know what kind of wave of kindness overcame me, but I felt bad for Fran being all alone so…

-I’M BACK BITCHES

Can’t believe we wasted 20k on these assholes but whatever. Time to grow up, Brit!

Oh yea, looking good! Taking the ‘on Wednesdays we wear pink’ rule to extreme lengths.

And we’re out of here, leaving the place in the capable hands of Fran and Ti-Ning, who immediately reconnect for a hot tub celebration of life.

So normally you’d think that would be the end of it and we’d get to the heir vote, right? RIGHT?

WRONG. Please bear with me through this incredible bullshit. So I’m taking the heir vote portraits, specifically Jojo’s, and everyone else is hanging around on the edges of this empty photoshoot lot, when suddenly the fight cloud appears. At first I think it’s Wyatt/Daniel aka business as usual but then I make the horrifying discovery that it’s.. DANIEL/BRIT.

As expected, the MINUTE I looked away, Gunther/Brit went for it in plain sight, leading to the eruption of a massive shitshow. I’m like ok w/e we’re basically in pre-heir vote limbo so it doesn’t count, I’ll just quit without saving. But THEN I take a look at Daniel’s panel.. AND SEE THIS:

I’ve literally no idea WTF HAPPENED, HOW IT HAPPENED, WHY, WHO MADE THE FIRST MOVE but the fact is that right after catching Gunther/Brit cheating, Melody and Daniel somehow got together even though they have never given any indication of being into each other and have one sole pathetic bolt. My best guess is 4-nice-points Melody went for it as a revenge but seriously WHAT THE FUCK

GOOD TIMES. At this point I’m obviously even more like ‘I’M GONNA QUIT WITHOUT SAVING’ so I’m just taking these pics for shits and giggles, but THEN I look at Gunther’s panel… and see probably the most disturbing want I’ve ever come across:

OK THEN. Reminder that Gunther’s secondary is PLEASURE so there’s literally no explanation for this shit except for legit. true love. As much planning as I did for these couples I’m like who am I to refuse A ROMANCE SIM’S engagement want???? I mean I also planned for Jojo to marry Frances and we all saw how that went. So I decide to save the game, even though it’s kinda unorthodox since it didn’t happen during actual gameplay but w/e, you just can’t ignore shit like that!!

So I revisit the lot the next day and am faced with a shitshow of cosmic proportions. The whole thing is like a bizzaro parallel universe, I mean you have Brit and Dan legit looking like they crossed over from the set of NLL..

..Gunther and Mel heartfarting over each other while also wanting to beat each other up..

..this torrid affair out in the open..

..AND WHATEVER THE FUCK THIS IS. I changed their turn-ons and now they have 3 bolts cause it felt like they really got the short end of the stick but I still can’t get over this bullshit happening in the first place. At least Jojo and Wyatt are having a good time! I guess at this point there’s only one thing left to do..

..simultaneous break ups! The couple that dumps their fiances together stays together.

Moving on to simultaneous crying/sighs of relief. If it seems like I’m halfassing this by not writing any dialogue it’s because I am, but I legit can’t, the whole situation is just too absurd to dramatize.

And now to complete the wife-swap..

Incredible. Now, hold on to your seats, everyone.. because the red ring memory..

IS NOT GUNTHER’S. WHAT IN THE NAME OF HELL. BRIT GOT A RED RING FROM HER ROMANCE SECONDARY BUT SOMEHOW GUNTHER DIDN’T??? Honestly I’m hardly a romantic but. TRUE LOVE. Or a glitch. Let’s go with true love.

And there you have it. The end of generation 1, which will live in the annals of history as the one where literally no one ended up with the person I had in mind for them and I might as well haven’t been there for all the control I had over these assholes.

NOW. TIME TO VOTE.

WHO WILL IT BE????

Head over to my lj for a handy guide to voting + the link to the poll. Thank you all for reading! <3

#ts2 #union legacy

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haltandcatchfiretothemax · 7 years

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Everyone's terrible: Halt and Catch Fire 4x08.

Because it's determined to be the most maddening show of all time, of course Halt's penultimate episode is going to maybe be the best episode of the season and easily one of the best of the series. I've spent this entire season getting more and more frustrated and distracted by the show's construction, and as such feeling more and more ready for it to end its run. So naturally, the next to last one is the only episode of the season that not only didn't have a bunch of stuff in it that upset and annoyed me, but that also reminded me why I fell so hard for Halt in the first place, and why I'll miss it so badly. WHY?

"Goodwill" is a really remarkable hour of television about a necessary and draining chore that we mostly try not to think about ever having to do. It feels like it should be uncomfortable, but it's surprisingly easy to watch, and I think it's the first episode all season that I'm truly looking forward to watching again? There's a lot to talk about, and it seems like no matter how much my Halt geek friends talk about it, we still want to talk/cry about it more. So, put on some Dire Straits, grab some extra boxes and plastic bags, and lets see if we can finally sort and pack up what went on in this episode. Literally nothing but spoilers for Halt and Catch Fire 4x08 below.

For me, there were a few different key, big deal things that really stood out to me about this episode. All of them are more than worthy of their own full-length post, but I'll address them here as succinctly as I can:

The Flashback scenes. I probably literally will not be able to list all the reasons why the early scenes from Donna and Gordon's marriage worked for me, but I'll try. They bring a different, more vibrant drama to what otherwise would've been a relatively quiet, elegiac hour of tv, which is amazing considering that we knew Gordon would return to Donna and Joanie. The flashbacks force us to remember that Gordon wasn't a great husband, and that he and Donna had real problems, and their argument is such a fitting prequel to season 1. Gordon is characteristically, annoyingly, and depressingly right about why they absolutely should not move back to Texas or let Donna's parents any further into their marriage! But Donna is just as right about why they, or really she, needs more help. To me, that's the most effective and striking thing about the flashbacks: the heartbreaking contrast between Donna and Gordon in 1976, and Donna in 1994. In 1994, Donna seems so alone without Gordon, but she has help, she and her girls has some kind of support. In 1976, she had Gordon, but they didn't have anyone else, and it's presumably why they cut their losses and moved back to Dallas. Gordon's return and recommittment to Donna is so well done that it takes no effort to imagine Donna shortly thereafter making a sort of inverse of the list of demands she made in 2x10, and also the first version of her 'you partner with me in this family' speech from the pilot: we move to Dallas, we let my parents help, we let them buy us a house, that is how we stick together. In her defense, it's also very easy to imagine Donna's mother nudging her into making said demands. The whole thing is a beautiful and miserable depiction of two people who were never going to make it work, for so many reasons, but who tried so, SO fucking hard.

The grief. It isn't surprising to me that Halt got this so right, and I'm glad that they spent nearly an entire episode on going through Gordon's things, because in this garbage c*pitalist, anti-feelings society we don't get to talk about that process or how difficult it is anywhere near enough. Everyone is in a sort of fog, feeling sad and overwhelmed and numb at the same time, and just trying to get through it, because what else can you do? There's always at least one person who is angry and who copes by picking fights and being 'overly' honest about how things really were, like Joanie. And there's always at least one person who can't seem to find any chill or numbness, who is jumpy and freaked out and who struggles and makes 'too' big a deal about everything, like J*e does in this hour. But everyone is there, and they're all grappling with the same thing, this sudden hole in their life that they can't patch. The loss means something different to everyone there, but everyone knows it's a loss shared by the entire group. They spend the day working together to clean out Gordon's house, some of them retrieving their own things, some of them preparing the deceased's things for their next destination. They grapple with the brevity, loneliness, and fragility of their own lives, and they talk about Gordon, and they laugh and then they cry. And then eventually, they all sit down together, exhausted, and they eat together at Gordon's dining room table. Because again, what else can you do?

The CamDonna. So, to be real: I don't think it was necessary to make us wait all the way until the next to last episode for Donna and Cameron's reconciliation, and no, I don't think that there's anything even remotely poignant about the brorunners torturing these two women characters and then hurting them more by taking one of their few friends away from both of them, just to put them back together for the finale. I wouldn't go so far as to say it's 'too little too late', but damn if it doesn't feel, in some ways, like so little, so freaking late. AT THE SAME TIME: if this is all the CamDonna reunion we're gonna get, at least it was good. It didn't track with my experiences with grief -- a death will deepen long-term personal rifts more often than it will magically heal them -- but it was still welcome and long overdue. Cameron goes out of her way to help Donna deal with Joanie, Donna finally tells Cameron that she finished Pilgrim and it quickly gets awkward when Donna tries to apologize for telling Cameron to stay out of her life, and then again when Donna talks about how good J*e is with her kids (……), but then they finally really talk when Donna performs the timeless Mom task of letting her know that dinner is ready. They bond over both their loss and how aggravating and demoralizing it is to be asked 'how are you doing' when you're in the middle of a life-altering trauma, and then over how that trauma changes your relationships. And yeah, it might feel a little bit prestige-y, but when Cameron and Donna talk about Gordon and how much they miss him, and what he meant to them, they're also talking about each other. You feel it the most at the end of their conversation, when Donna says she spent so much time telling Gordon everything he did wrong. They're finally in the same frame for the first time since early season 3, and they cry together, but when Cameron supplies a perfect and very in-character response, "He did a ton wrong," they finally laugh together. For a moment, you almost forget that they're talking about Donna's relationship with Gordon.

But there's the other thing. Um, not to be a douche but, did anyone else find themselves wondering, are we seriously all crying over Gordon, right now? That's not a question for viewers though, because of course we're responding to this glorious and cathartic piece of filmmaking by crying about Gordon, because that was the intended impact. No, this is a question for the showrunners: why Gordon, when he's actually been an incredibly unlikeable character for the whole goddamn series? Why, in season 4, does he suddenly become this beloved family man, and the character who connects everyone? (Yes, even this season, in which he still wasn't a great partner to Donna, and in which his personal life flourished while the showrunners put hers through a friggen meat grinder.) Why do Gordon (and also J*e…) get these huge, season-long redemptive arcs? While Cameron and Donna get nothing but like, suffering? Lol jk DON'T answer, I KNOW why. (No, literally, don't answer, I don't need any of this explained to me, I'm good, thanks!) Again, it's not necessary or inherently poignant but if we had to put up with this storyline, well. At least it was executed impeccably, and we got a brilliant episode out of it, with great scenes with Donna, Cameron, Katie and the girls.

But now, we're down to the finale. We've got two hours of show left, in which anything and everything can happen, dog help us. Gordon's story has come to an end, and that's sort of what the last scene is about, right? He went over the cliff and he went all in, and he lived his life, mostly with Donna. Prayer circle that the rest of our characters will get a generous conclusion to their stories!

#...i am not ready for this finale good g-d #cameron howe #donna clark #donna emerson #gordon clark #halt and catch fire s4 #halt and catch fire s4 feels #4x08 #goodwill

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downinfront · 4 years

Text

We deserve ‘Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker.’

Overstuffed, overcorrecting, and overthought, Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker is a confused, enthralling mess disguised as a love-letter to a fandom that long ago showed they didn't deserve it. It doesn't suffer for lack of craftsmanship or performance or even spirit, necessarily. This is, if nothing else, a very fun movie. But it's content to paint with a broad brush in a way that falls between smug and skittish; Skywalker merrily rehashes old plot lines, digs up old characters (alternate title: Star Wars — Episode IX: Hey, It's That Guy!) and shoehorns any and every element of fan service it can think of on the way to a conclusion that is rather moving in spite of itself. Here, it seems to be saying, is the Star Wars you all wanted.

In this film's defense, pandering might not be the worst thing in the world — the Marvel movies are 75% fan service and are reliably good to very good — but what this one suffers from is a distinct lack of imagination in a way that none of the other movies could truly claim. The prequels had their sprawling, elemental planets; Return of the Jedi had its toy chest of creatures; even Solo had a droid with a sex drive. In contrast, there's nothing in Skywalker you can't see coming, or at least vaguely sense from a mile off.

That's doubly disappointing in the wake of Rian Johnson's The Last Jedi, which gleefully set fire to almost every Star Wars plot convention and took the new films' dangling story threads in strange, interesting new directions. Luke Skywalker (Mark Hamill) turned out to be a grizzled, regret-filled hermit; Poe Dameron's (Oscar Isaac) dashing pigheadedness got a lot of people killed; looming final boss Snoke (Andy Serkis) got sliced in half at the top of Act Three. The fanboys hated it. So, duly chastised, J.J. Abrams returns to the director’s chair, cracks his knuckles and undoes or muddles nearly all of Johnson's creative choices to bring the saga back to safe, more palatable harbor by bringing an old villain back from the dead and awkwardly maneuvering the boat back into the lane he'd laid out in 2015's fun, reverential reboot The Force Awakens.

To its credit, The Rise of Skywalker retains the zippy joy of that ebullient thriller. This is a very enjoyable movie to watch, all constant motion, thundering pathos and a fair amount of genuine emotional weight. But Abrams' rough remolding unwittingly strips away the nuance from a story that had begun to show tantalizing signs of grey. Rey (Daisy Ridley) always had the potential to move (or destroy) worlds and The Last Jedi fascinatingly cast her as a nobody, toying with the idea that anyone possesses the capacity to do great and terrible things. Now, in keeping with the mysterious groundwork Awakens laid about her parentage, she is revealed to be very much somebody, the heiress to legacies both literal and figurative and thus a more fitting wielder of power. The violent longing of the lonely Kylo Ren (an unchallenged Adam Driver) is folded into the resurrection of Emperor Palpatine (Ian McDiarmid, still having way more fun than anybody in these movies); for much of Kylo’s screen time he’s an errand boy for the big bad, finally the Darth Vader knockoff he always wanted to be and that much less interesting as a result. Even the people in the new Star Wars want to be in the original Star Wars, seems to be the message.

Luckily for them, the people making the new ones want to be making the old ones, too. Abrams opens the gates so legacy characters can pass through for a cup of coffee (Hi, Lando!). Dead characters walk as ghosts. Dead actors are oddly though not unlovingly shoehorned into the narrative. (Farewell, Carrie Fisher. It shouldn't have been like this.) It's not all unpleasant. We, too, are fans of Star Wars, and watching the Millennium Falcon lead an armada into the final battle is not without its visual grandeur, nor is the battle between Rey and Kylo on the splintered, shipwrecked hull of the Death Star. But I kept wishing there was more of Keri Russell's masked bandit, or Kelly Marie Tran's rudely sidelined Rose Tico, or even John Boyega's Finn, who went from rudderless turncoat to generic good guy so fast it barely registered. (Luckily, Boyega's not-asexual chemistry with Poe is one of the movie's consistently entertaining high points, but his connection with another rebel played by Naomi Ackie goes underexplored.)

That these fascinating characters — born into loss and trauma and the responsibility of finishing the work their parents abandoned — are forced to cede the stage to the familiar comforts of Good vs. Evil may make the internet happy, but it does no service to a story whose charm always lay in its complexity and its imagination. As it is, Rise of Skywalker doesn't have a lot of either. It wants to love and be loved unconditionally and collapses under the weight of its own devotion. It's an IOU that knows not what it's apologizing for, a beautiful bouquet that smells like your ex. It is, undoubtedly, the Star Wars we wanted; it is, depressingly, the Star Wars we deserve.

#star wars #Star Wars: the rise of skywalker #Star Wars episode 9 #Star Wars: episode ix #Star Wars review #Star Wars movie review

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hurrems · 7 years

Note

♔ : Finding the other wearing their clothes (for bluesey)

As Gansey parks his Suburban in front of Monmouth Manufacturing, he casts a look at his phone and wonders if it’s too late to call 300 Fox Way and ask for Blue. 11.41 pm does seem like an inappropriate time to disturb them but Blue is still yet to have a phone so he has no other means to contact her. If it were up to him, he would have remedied that already, but every time he brings up the subject, Blue glares at him dangerously, and he’s either too intimated or too lovesick to push the issue.

So his only options are to call their landline, or wait until tomorrow morning and drive over to surprise her with his early return from D.C. A surprise visit does sound nice, but after a month of absence, he doesn’t think he can wait a minute more to see her again. He’s ready to abandon his less beloved (but more reliable) car in favor of the Pig waiting for him faithfully in the parking lot, and whisk her away to wherever she wanted to go if she only said the word.

His heart wins out over his manners, and soon, he’s dialing the familiar number even before he’s out of the car and up the stairs of Monmouth.

Orla picks up, as she usually does any time Gansey calls them, her lazy voice purring into the receiver. “Hello?”

“Orla, hello. It’s Gansey.”

“Oh, Richie Rich. Hey.”

“I was wondering if Blue was available to talk.”

“Blue?” Orla laughs, although Gansey can’t imagine what’s so amusing about the question. “Sorry, Richie Rich, she’s not home.”

“Oh.” Gansey deflates, momentarily pausing on his way up the stairs. “Where is she, if I may ask?”

“You may but I’m not sure Blue would want me to tell you. Girl code and all, you understand, right?”

“Of course,” Gansey nods, though he’s not sure he understands at all. Nevertheless, he thanks Orla for her assistance, and, dejected, he trudges the rest of the way up to Monmouth.

He’s missed his home, sure, and he’s missed the Pig more, but he’s missed Blue the most. Ronan has officially moved back to the Barns after months of unofficially living there anyway, and it’s silly, but suddenly, Gansey feels depressingly lonely at the thought of walking into an empty building with no one to welcome him home. Perhaps he should have alerted someone of his earlier arrival after all, but in the spur of the moment, he thought it was a better idea to surprise everyone instead.

He’s only been gone a month but it feels like a lifetime. Gansey hadn’t been very keen on the idea of spending his July in Washington to work under his father’s friend in a multinational oil company, but his parents got him this internship without his permission, and Gansey couldn’t say no. Not after telling them that he was skipping college to go wandering around America with his girlfriend.

With his thoughts stuck on Blue, his friends, and where Blue might be at this hour, Gansey steps inside to survey the dark and empty and utterly uninviting living room. It’s the kind of quiet Gansey feels uncomfortable with.

Not bothering to turn on the lights, he discards his suitcase, and moves to his bed, eager to sleep off the disappointment he feels. But standing at the foot of his bed, he stops short in surprise.

Blue is there, wrapped up in his blanket, her arms curled around his pillow, sleeping soundly. So soundly, in fact, that despite the thrill of seeing her here, he doesn’t have the heart to wake her.

Gansey smiles to himself. He’s inappropriately pleased to find Blue sleeping in his bed, during his absence, no less. He wonders how many times she sneaked in here while he was gone, and if the smell of him on the pillows made her dream of him as often as he dreamed of her. An image of Blue creeps into his mind: her, coming here at night, alone and longing, presumably just to feel closer to him. Settling under the covers and sniffing the pillows, wishing he was there to hold her.

Gansey stops himself there. He quickly and quietly changes into his pajamas, and slips into bed with Blue. His foul mood has vanished completely. He wraps his arms around her waist to pull her against his chest, briefly noting the fact that she’s wearing one of his shirts.

“Gansey?” Blue croaks, voice heavy with sleep.

“Yeah, it’s me,” he whispers, and presses a quick kiss against her neck. She hums contentedly. “Go back to sleep.”

“Okay,” she sighs, settling against him comfortably. They fit together with an ease that still amazes Gansey. He’s missed it. It’s a good thing he came home tonight, after all.

The first thing he feels in the morning is Blue pressing kisses to his nose, the strands of her hair tickling his cheek. She grins at him as he opens his eyes and squints against the bright sunlight, and she looks so beautiful and happy in that moment that he never wants to look away from her.

“You’re here,” she says, a touch of incredulity in her voice.

“I’m here. Surprise.”

She laughs and throws her arms around his neck, pushing herself on top of him as their lips meet in a deep kiss. Her warm body pressed up against his, Gansey thinks that he very much likes this kind of welcome back greeting, and perhaps he should leave more often. He says as much to her when she pulls away from him.

Blue punches his shoulder. “Don’t you dare.”

“Why?” he grins playfully. “I’m reward with passionate kisses and finding you sleeping in my bed, in my shirt,” Gansey trails off, fingering the collar of his lavender colored polo shirt. “It seems to me that it’s very much worth it.”

Blue huffs but avoids his eyes. He can tell she’s flustered by the blush creeping across her neck, and he finds it absolutely endearing.

“You’ve been gone a long time, I’ve missed you.” She shrugs, defensive. “It was a spur of the moment idea.”

“Oh?” He raises his eyebrows, his face composed, but he knows his eyes give away the mirth he’s feeling. “That’s strange because I’ve been looking for this shirt for months. How long have you had it?”

Blue coughs and looks away. “I haven’t had it, I found it… here. Don’t be surprised you can’t find your things if you never clean up after yourself.”

Gansey has another teasing comment sitting on his lips but Blue, still perched on top of him, cuts him off by kissing him again, more forcefully than the last time. It’s always been her favorite distraction strategy. It worked too, most of the time, because luckily for her, Gansey appreciated the tactic.

He sputters a laugh against her mouth, and manages to break away long enough to say, “I see what you’re doing, and I have to say… it’s working.”

“Good,” Blue grins mischievously. “Because like I said, I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too,” he admits, voice softer. “All jokes aside, it’s been a long month.”

“Definitely,” Blue agrees, biting her lip. Gansey can’t take his eyes off her: sitting on top of him like that, wearing only his shirt and that expression, she looks more attractive than anyone should have the right to be. Good thing no one knows he’s back because he’s not ready to leave the sanctuary of his bed just yet.

#moira7 #asks #bluesey #trc fic #the raven cycle #thanks for the prompt!#i missed writing my kids #niky writes #blue x gansey #otp: warm alive vibrant #otp: because i can sleep after i talk to her

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preserving-ferretbrain · 5 years

Text

Been There, Done That

by Wardog

Thursday, 19 February 2009

Wardog is also having thoughts about Dollhouse.~

“I have existed merely to perform tricks for you, Torvald. But you wanted it like that. You and father have committed a great sin against me. It is your fault that I have made nothing of my life. Our home has been nothing but a playroom. I have been your doll-wife, just as at home I was papa's doll-child; and here the children have been my dolls. I thought it great fun when you played with me, just as they thought it great fun when I played with them. That is what our marriage has been, Torvald.”

Given my willingness to talk extensively about Dollhouse, I thought I’d probably better actually better watch the thing. Given that I’m in the UK, let’s not think too deeply about how I managed to do that.

So, as all the world knows by now, the Dollhouse is a top secret facility containing a bunch of hot young people (mainly female, it appears, but I did see some Ken-like men in the shower scene) who have had their memories and personalities wiped so that they can be fitted with new ones in order to carry out missions for those wealthy and powerful enough to be able to afford to hire them. The scope of these missions is limited only by the writer’s imaginations. In the pilot we had our heroine doll – Echo – playing companion to a sleazy playboy and then being refitted to negotiate with a bunch of kidnappers. Between assignments, the Dolls are childlike and obedient and sleep in weird coffin like things fitted into the floor, for no apparent reason whatsoever beyond the production of a creepy atmosphere. This being a Whedonwork, as well as the individual episode plot, the pilot is also rife with hints at longer, deeper story arcs – there’s a random FBI dude is seeking the Dollhouse, Echo is showing very slight hints of a developing sense of self, who did Echo used to be, what is going on here etc. etc.

Although the pilot isn’t precisely gripping, it is – I suppose - intriguing. The eerie, dystopian atmosphere is very successful and Eliza Dushku is actually surprising competent in a role demanding a high degree of versatility. She is also hot as mustard, but more on this later. Sadly, the episode-storyline itself is much less successful and, as yet, there are no characters in this show, which I cannot help think is mildly problematic. I mean, there are people in it – there is “immoral tech guy” and “melancholy, scarred Amy Acker girl” and “morally concerned black dude” and “cold, British woman who might be in charge” and “I seem to be Russian chap” – but none of them are really presented with sufficient force for them to be any more than a succession of faces. I know it’s only the pilot but I didn’t care about any of them, I wasn’t even curious. It’s a combination of lack of screentime and rather depressingly bland dialogue. I don’t know how long it will take Echo to develop sufficient self-awareness to be a person but there are real problems associated with a show without a protagonist. It feels shallow and empty, and there’s nothing really to keep you watching except perhaps intellectual curiosity about the premise.

I know, arguably, this is kind of the point. But, again, this only highlights some of the problems with Dollhouse. By reinforcing the emptiness of the fantasies offered by the Dollhouse by confronting you with an empty show … what you’ve still got there, Joss, is an empty show. And there is something fundamentally quite problematic in a text that chooses to explore themes such as exploitation and social roleplaying, by forcing its viewers into a weird state of complicity with the more exploitative aspects of the show itself. There’s plenty footage here of Eliza being wild and sexy and/or wide-eyed and helpless and/or wearing a very short skirt and/or any of the other things that you can’t help but find titillating, but without these bits the show is ponderously melancholic. There’s no snappy Whedon dialogue to enliven it. And, as I said above, at the moment there are no actual characters to utter it. So, yes, I did spend the pilot wondering when I was next going to see Eliza do something fun but this is not me being exploitative (aaaah d’you see?), this is Whedon being manipulative. If Dollhouse had more to offer me as a viewer, I’d be less interested in Eliza Dushku’s legs. Maybe.

It’s just a cheap shot, really. You can’t keep up a parade of beautiful people in revealing outfits and expect that to constitute a criticism of society’s attitude to beautiful people in revealing outfits.

It’s like Ricky Gervais using his current fame to whinge on about how hard it is being famous.

I think I’d have reacted less badly to this if Dollhouse wasn’t so self-consciously gendered all the damn time. So it feels very much like you’re watching the show with Joss Whedon sitting next to you and yelling in your ear: “Isn’t it terrible the way society treats WOMEN?” and “Do you see the way we all unconsciously exploit WOMEN” and “Look at the way the televisual standards of female beauty to which you yourself subscribe abuse WOMEN” and “Sometimes WOMEN never get over the horrible things that happen to them.”

The main story of the pilot involves Echo taking on the personality of a hard-as-nails, super-experienced kidnapping negotiator. Let’s not spend too much time dwelling on the fact she looks like Eliza Dushku (i.e. about 21 and super hot – but they put her in glasses, so that’s okay). Of course, it turns out that the reason why she’s poured all her life and energy into Getting Really Good At Something is because she was kidnapped at the age of 9 and horribly abused by her captor.

Because WOMEN, you see, are incapable of empathy and we’d never bother to lift a finger to help other WOMEN if we didn’t have direct experience of abuse ourselves.

I was really annoyed by the sex abuse plot (the real woman who suffered the abuse ended up killing herself because society does terrible things to WOMEN, or had you forgotten that?) because for a split-second I half-believed the Dollhouse setup had a whisper of moral complexity to it. I mean, having your personality erased so you can become the idle hour plaything of a pointless playboy is, y’know, unspeakably awful but genuinely being able to saving live and do things you couldn’t otherwise do is another matter. It still might not be the worth the death of yourself, but it’d be worth consideration.

But, no, the Dollhouse is evil. Because it’s a metaphor for how society treats WOMEN.

The truly tragic thing is that it’s an awesome premise for a TV serial. It’s like all the best bits of Quantum Leap and all the best bits of Alias smooshed up together. The scope is practically limitless and I think I could accept an argument that you might agree to have your personality erased if it was going to allow you kick ass and save lives on an entertaining weekly basis. I think it would even be quite empowering.

But, no, the Dollhouse is evil. Because it’s a metaphor for how society treats WOMEN.

And the show continually reinforces this by showing you attractive women in sexy outfits and then condemning you when you look at them.Themes:

TV & Movies

Whedonverse

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~Comments (

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Arthur B

at 17:15 on 2009-02-19

I think I might have guessed where Joss got the idea from.

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Rami

at 17:47 on 2009-02-19Yep, Joe 90 is acknowledged (I think even by Whedon) as one of the major influences...

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Nathalie H

at 21:53 on 2009-02-19Ooh, very interesting! I still haven't seen it and probably won't bother, so it's interesting to hear about the gender angle because I haven't read one really decent review on the internet so far. allecto did one but she's a bit mad, and everyone else is like 'oh it's Joss, he is a feminist so it's amazing.'

And considering how dicey it sounded before, it makes a lot more sense to me that he's using sexy mind-wiped prostitutes to make a really heavy-handed feminist point than that he hasn't even noticed, (because I think it would have been too stupid if he'd never thought the women would be looked on as sex objects, considering how much he supposedly knows about feminism).

Of course, the other problem then is that by setting up a sexy premise and condemning you for being taken in by it, is the question of how much this counts as reinforcement. And of course the fact that being aware of your own prejudices is a very important part of the lib movement (for example the problems of l/b women in being feminists and viewing women as sexual objects) so condemning the viewer is maybe a little too holier-than-thou when I'm sure he likes Eliza in a mini-skirt too.

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Arthur B

at 23:49 on 2009-02-19Natalie, where's allecto's

Dollhouse

review? I agree that she's a bit mad (in the same way that the Sun is a bit hot), but I find her rants weirdly compelling. But I can't find the review anywhere...

As an offering I present you her take on the

Buffy "Season 8" comics

. Gems: allecto opines that lesbians simply "don't look like" the girls depicted in one of the panels she depicts, sneaking a little homophobia into her heterophobia, and in the comments she reveals that

Buffy

almost brainwashed her into being straight.

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http://descrime.livejournal.com/

at 05:51 on 2009-02-20I was disappointed by the dialogue too. (Hello, new person. Pleased to meet you.) It was especially jarring because earlier that day, I had looked up an episode summary of a Firefly episode where people had submitted pages of funny quotes and memorable lines.

Joss is good at humor, one of the best in television at the moment, I would say. It's what allows him to take otherwise silly ideas and make them work in a way that actually lets the audience take them seriously. The Scooby Gang might have quipped their way through Sunnydale High and Vampire Master Ascensions, but they dealt with real issues teenagers faced. If Buffy had been serious, it would have been depressing as hell.

At a time when every show seems to be trying to one-up each other to be seen as the most Serious (aka depressing as traumatic things happen one after another and people make stupid decisions that serve to make them even more unhappy), I had been looking forward to Joss's brand of comedy-adventure. Dollhouse left me alternatively bored and laughing at their Hollywood spa dungeon.

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Arthur B

at 09:47 on 2009-02-20

If Buffy had been serious, it would have been depressing as hell.

And when it was serious, it was terrible. The magic-is-heroin plotline being a case in point.

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Wardog

at 12:55 on 2009-02-20I might re-watch Firefly and sob quietly to myself.

so condemning the viewer is maybe a little too holier-than-thou when I'm sure he likes Eliza in a mini-skirt too.

Nathalie! How can you say that?! Joss Whedon is a FEMINIST, he would never objectify Eliza Dushku!

I was disappointed by the dialogue too.

I'm glad it's not just me; I mean obviously it's a darker, setting etc. but everybody is so terribly bland and dull, that it's hard to remember who they are. I read a book on the linguistics of Buffy once, and it was actually fascinating to trace the complexities and cleverness of Scooby Gang slang. I know he was quite consciously creating something that would sound like "youth culture" but not date the show and there's no particularly *need* to do that for Dollhouse but ... blah.

Joss is good at humor, one of the best in television at the moment, I would say

I have feeling that are things that are funny are meant to be less worthwhile than things that aren't, hence his move ever more towards "darker" shows. Buffy Season 2 still strikes me as one of the most painful story arcs I can call to mind, albeit tinged by adolescence (eeek, I have slept with my boyfriend, and now he is a different person) - but it's done with such a light touch that you never get bogged down in woe.

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http://sistermagpie.livejournal.com/

at 17:10 on 2009-03-02I've seen a number of comments about this show (which I haven't seen) lately referring to the skimpy clothing, for instance, where people claim that the only reason it's there is because "the network" forced Joss to put that in. Which I think is kind of bizarre, and reminds me of those elaborate theories about how co-stars are having sex but "the network" or "the producers" made them sign a contract that says they're not allowed to openly be together.

It just seemed like a really interesting addition to the "Joss is a feminist therefore it is amazing" idea.

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Dan H

at 18:41 on 2009-03-02

I've seen a number of comments about this show (which I haven't seen) lately referring to the skimpy clothing, for instance, where people claim that the only reason it's there is because "the network" forced Joss to put that in.

It's something you always get with auteur-types. Everything that is brilliant about their work is a result of their genioos, anything that is less great about it is a result of other people interfering with their genioos.

To be fair, I can see that it's unfair to criticize Whedon for having to work within the limits of his medium - a TV drama about a hot young woman will get made, a TV drama about a dumpy unattractive young woman won't get made. On the other hand, one cannot be entirely absolved of responsibility for the standards of a group of which you are a part (and this, again, is my problem with the whole Man!Feminism thing).

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Arthur B

at 21:33 on 2009-03-02Also, for the love of god, it's Whedon. He's one of the few people in TV whose name next to the words "Writer", "Director" or "Producer" is, in and of itself, a massive draw. (Auteur writer/directors tend to be vastly more common in film because it's a medium which is just plain friendlier to them - witness David Lynch's failure to get the coherent half of

Mulholland Drive

accepted by ABC). Whedon is arguably more free of the networks' meddling than 99% of the other writers and directors in his medium, simply because the networks

want his name attached to the product

Which of course brings its own dangers. When

Firefly

wasn't working out for the network, they didn't try to change it: they just killed it.

#Ferretbrain #Dollhouse #Joss Whedon #Wardog

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

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beyondthetemples-ooc · 5 years

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MUSIC QUESTIONS

Found here: http://beyondthetemples-ooc.tumblr.com/post/183365664552/music-asks-these-are-actually-pretty-fucking-hard

Song names are linked to videos that play them. (The meme said “these are hard”, but I decided to make it even HARDER for some reason, and decided I wouldn’t use two selections from the same band! Which made this take me literally two hours, but it was Fun. I like a good musical challenge~ So anyways.)

1:A song you like with a color in the title Blue Eyes - Within Temptation

2:A song you like with a number in the title Fixed At Zero - VersaEmerge

3:A song that reminds you of summertime Elvenpath - Nightwish this might be for Spiritual Reasons, heh. “In the sheltering shade of the forest, calling, calming silence. Accompanied only by the full moon, and the howling of the night wolf, and the path under my bare feet... The elven path.”

5:A song that needs to be played LOUD Reality Fringe - Alex Dalliance / Vulture Culture “By right, I’m STILL ALIVE! Bad blood, I WILL SURVIVE! By truth, my eyes can SEE! The broken EDGE of REALITY!”

6:A song that makes you want to dance damnit, i already used Alex Dalliance, Nightwish, AND Xandria! How about..... ~*Diamond Shuffle - Next Level*~ (we dance HARD to this at the org functions sometimes, and i absolutely LOVE IT.) Based on the Cupid Shuffle! "To the right, to the right, to the right, to the right! To the left, to the left, to the left, to the left. Now kick, now kick, now kick, now kick. Now put your diamonds up, now put your diamonds up. Do the diamond shuffle.... We’re going Diamond, D-I-A-M-O-N-D! We’re the BEST, you can bet! Not another, can’t be beat! Do your diamond dance, diamond dance"~

7:A song to drive to ( (( ??? I don't drive, so I wouldn't know. Whatever I'm in the mood for, though. )) )

8:A song about drugs or alcohol Someday - Crossfade "Can't put this bottle down as Iiiii, watch this day fade into night...."

9:A song that makes you happy Samhain - Magica [Lyrics: x] that took Depressingly long to figure out. geez But: any time I listen to that piano? My spirit absolutely SOARS.

10:A song that makes you sad oh, that's too many. hold on; I need a minute... particularly because i don't want to Repeat Bands on this, for some reason. How about one that almost always Draws Tears? Stressed Out - Twenty One Pilots “I was told when I get older all my fears would shrink, but now I’m insecure and I care what people think...Wish we could turn back time, to the good old days. When our mama sang us to sleep, but now we’re stressed out...Used to dream of outer space, but now they’re laughing at our face, saying ‘Wake up, you need to make money!’ ”

11:A song that you never get tired of Believer - Imagine Dragons “I’m fired up, and tired of the way that things have been, oh!...Don’t you tell me what to think that I can be. I’m the one at the sail, I’m the master of my sea...Seeing the beauty, though the... PAIN! You make me a, you make me a believer...All the hate that you’ve heard has turned your spirit to a dove, oh, your spirit up above...”

12:A song from your preteen years Tokyo Nights - Puffy AmiYumi (Always one of my favorites by them.~) “Utaru, Tokyo Nights! Anno kutokete, Tokyo nights! Yoru ni hohoemu. I’m in love, I’m in love, I’m in love...~”

13:One of your favorite 80’s songs Have I talked about ~Under Pressure~ enough yet? “It’s the terror of knowing what this world is about. Watching some good friends screaming, Let me out!...Keep coming up with love, but it’s so slashed and torn! Why? Can’t we give ourselves one more chance? Why can’t we give love one more chance?...'Cause love's such an old fashioned word, and love dares you to care for, the people on the edge of, the night, and, love dares you to, change our way of caring about ourselves...”

14:A song that you would love played at your wedding {{ N/A - I don't want to be married. ^^'; Handfasted, maybe. But none, really. Also, if I did, I'd want to pick our music Together. }}

15:A song that is a cover by another artist Supremacy - Tarja (Muse cover) “Wake to see, your true emancipation is a fantasy. Policies have risen up and overcome the brave. Greatness dies, unsung and lost, invisible to history...You don't have long; I am on to you. The time, it has come, to destroy: Your suuu-premacyyyyy!”

16:One of your favorite classical songs Greensleeves - (???) (I know it's not "baroque", but it's certainly a bit of a classic.)

17:A song that would sing a duet with on karaoke Broken - Seether ft. Amy Lee “The worst is over now, and we can breathe again. I wanna hold you high, and steal my pain, away. There’s so much left to learn, and no one left to fight! I wanna hold you high and steal your pain...”

18:A song from the year that you were born Addams Family (WHOOMP!) - Tag Team

19:A song that makes you think about life We Are the Others - Delain "As simple as air in your lungs, as simple as words on your lips: No one could take it away, no one should argue this! Now with our heads up high, we’ll carry on, and carry out: That we won’t let them, GET us down, or WEAR us out! Cuz we are not alone. We are the others, we are the cast-outs! We’re the outsiders, but you can’t hide us...If you feel mistreated, torn and cheated: You are not alone! We are the others. Normal is not the norm. It’s just a uniform. Forget about the norm, take off your uniform. We are all beautiful!”

20:A song that has many meanings to you The Worlds Forgotten, The Words Forbidden - Sonata Arctica Every. Single. Aspect. of the Nexus has feels in this song! “What is a man to do? No light, only suffocating dark. Deep, burning pain. I’m losing everything I am, remember nothing of my past. Now it’s all gone, and I fear the game is over. Save me...This isn’t my home. I follow moon to find a path away from the scorching sun, I follow the stars to my abode...I seize the moment to hear a story no one’s telling anymore. The worlds forgotten, the words forbidden.”

21:A favorite song with a person’s name in the title Song For Jolee - Kamelot (I have no idea what the Other Jolene Song everyone talks about is, but ^this^ is the one I think of whenever someone says "Jolene", and it catches me off guard Every Time I Remember, "that's not the same song, they mean the Fabled Meme one, right. Right..." I heard it's a country song though, and look, that's not my style, so I don't care to be informed. The contrast+realization is kinda amusing, anyways. 8FF)

22:A song that moves you forward Higher - Edenbridge “Time and tide wait for no man ever, and your eyes are agleam, like you’re in a dream, getting out from under. Give a little try, give a little more try! Never fall in line, for a fleeting moment! Be and end all, I am aiming HIGH. Reach a little higher!...Lay it on the line, and run the mile. Reach a little HIGHER!”

23:A song that you think everybody should listen to ????? (I make recommendations based on personal taste; I can't Generalize like that! ;; )

24:A song by a band you wish were still together The Black Parade - My Chemical Romance (Y’all should know how this goes. And if you don’t: can I make THIS my recommendation? Besides being Iconic of my “emo” generation, it’s legitimately a great musical composition with dramatic buildup and a seriously empowering message.)

25:A song by an artist no longer living Hands Held High - Linkin Park

26:A song that makes you want to fall in love (All over again, you mean?) Something Just Like This - The Chainsmokers & Coldplay “I’m not looking for somebody with some superhuman gifts; some superhero, some fairy tale bliss. Just something I can turn to, somebody I can kiss. I want something just like this. Oh, I want something just like this!”~

27:A song that breaks your heart Wanderer's Lullaby - Adriana Figueroa “Do you know, just, how much you’re worth?...You are the dawn of a new day that’s waking, a masterpiece still in the making, the blue in an ocean of gray. You are: right where you need to be, poised to inspire and to succeed! You’ll look back, and you’ll realize one day. In your eyes there is doubt, as you try to figure it out... Though the world may try to define you, it can’t take the light that’s inside you! So don’t you dare try to hide, let yours fade away...” (It’s... for someone very particular that this song breaks my heart all over again. Ugh, I could quote this whole song for her. When I’m in a very specific shift? This song absolutely DESTROYS me. And even when I’m not? It’s an absolutely gorgeous and reassuring song, but... you know. Depressed Brain likes to say “that isn’t true at all”, and I’m likely to tear up anyways.)

28:A song by an artist with a voice that you love Tides of Time - Epica (Simone Simons... ~<333 She sounds every bit as amazing LIVE as she does on the albums! But this VERSE... actually strike that, this entire SONG is so gorgeously rendered.)

29:A song that you remember from your childhood Bring Me to Life - Evanescence (The Song that Started It All. Ordinarily I would link to the Bliss Mix, or the SiriusXM performance. Hell, a demo! You know, the version they actually WANTED to make, without the production misogyny. But this WAS, after all, the version from my childhood. =w=;; I’m not even gonna do lyrics, you all know how it goes.)

30:A song that reminds you of yourself (oh my stars, there are SO many... I can say “Every song I’ve linked to so far”, honestly.) I told myself I wouldn't repeat bands, so I had to do some digging for this one, since I already used all of my Favorites.... Wait, DUH. The song that's named after the very same word I named my Entire Identity and Life Experience after: The Nexus - Amaranth “I hide, empower our remedy. Step up, get your game on, get your fight back, never BACK DOWN!...I have the will inside my mind. There is a voice I can’t deny! Break, with the PAST. Set the nexus free at least! As the future will be there to save us. Trapped, in my SKIN, see the nexus in my dreams. But will you bury me within?...And as the darkness reveals, I see no reason for me to reach for the cure. I’m my own demon. I kept the secrets in my mind, there is a voice I can’t DENY!...Face it down, I’m the spine in the flame. Just let it out of me, break it out of the core - to help me, BREATHE...”

Actually, okay, it’s the whole song. It’s kind of perfect.~

#music meme #rhs music #meme

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deadcactuswalking · 6 years

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PROMISE ME NO PROMISES -- THE TOP 10 WORST HIT SONGS OF 2017

Let’s just get on with it. I’ll be less intricate and eloquent here – I’m just going to rip and tear into all these songs. Hello and welcome to...

THE TOP TEN WORST HIT SONGS OF 2017

I would give you dishonourable mentions but I feel there isn’t much here that is truly terrible enough to be noted other than the songs on the list so let’s just get straight into it!

#10

Have you ever hurt so much, physically or emotionally, that the only thing you can do is yell and yell, like a primal release of your...

PAIN!

#10 – Imagine Dragons – “Believer”

There are many, many elements in this song that mesh together like an insipid soup of gouged eyeballs, but on their own are more like slightly expired cheese strings – just that right balance of annoying, gross and still kind of okay, so much that you just don’t notice it if you don’t pay much attention. Let me tell you how about every single one of them:

1) What on earth is that percussion? This was supposed to be powerful but just sounds like the drummer fell asleep on his drum kit, with the bassist swirling his head around when needs be so he can hit the right drums.

2) The buzzing synth that is ever so subtle but ever so murderously annoying.

3) Dan Reynolds’ vocal inflections and singing – we’ll talk about those later.

4) The backing vocals sounding like wolves howling so weakly you’d think they’re in...

PAIN!

5) That.

6) The fact that Dan makes a weak attempt at rapping.

7) The lyrics making next to no sense and having next to no structure.

8) The whole point of the grating-as-all-hell chorus being so it can have that pause and dramatic drop for a movie trailer.

9) The fact that it’s still insanely catchy despite all these flaws.

10) And finally, the collision of all these intestine-munching parasites in the stomach-curling hell of a final chorus, with even more of those shrill additional vocals from the rest of the fantasy dragons that sound like a choir straight out of Robot Hell.

God, and this is only #10.

This will be unpopular. Very unpopular.

#9 – SZA – “Love Galore” featuring Travis Scott

Let’s talk about how much of an autotuned non-prescience Travis Scott is. He sounds like he’s been drowned out entirely by his own waves of sing-rapping. Not to say SZA’s inflections and melody aren’t any more annoying. The “love” melody is, I swear, one of the worst melodies I’ve heard all year. SZA has a faux-Jamaican accent thing going on, which wouldn’t be bad if it weren’t so obnoxious. Those effects piled onto her vocals aren’t doing her any favours, either. The worst part of this song is not Travis and it’s not SZA. It’s the production. The minimalistic, boring production in the intro leads to a bass-boosted apple-picking session where the apples are filled with helium, the tree is shaking and I have a knife to my throat. There’s a metaphor in there somewhere. I would put this in a tied entry higher on the list but I can’t deny the harmony later into the song and Travis’ adlibs are always a treat, honestly. Ya! I don’t know why, but I love them. You could say I low-oh-low-ah-oh-love them. I’m sorry, everyone who like this – and I know, there’s a lot of them – but I’m not a fan.

[chuckling and snickering]

#8 – Drake – “Fake Love”

[bursts out laughing] This song is probably too hilarious to hate, but it’s so pathetic that I just had to put it on here. If you like subtly autotuned wailing leaping out of Drake’s confused, blurred mess of a vocal performance, over steel pans and trap percussion, you’re in luck.

Whole time, they wanna take my place / Whole time, they wanna take my place

That falsetto sounds like a whimpering child whose sandcastle just got stomped on. It’s somehow both cute and ear-shredding.

I’ve been down so long

You were never down; in fact, we’re damn near sick of you, Drake. You don’t sound like you were on any type of downer when you recorded this though. The sheer emotion in his vocals is clear, but they’re not very good at all. They just aren’t, and I can’t listen to this song without clocking a smile. When I’m sad, I put this song on. It’s that depressingly hilarious.

Fake people showing fake love to me / Straight up to my face

The lyrics to this are blunt but fragile, and are actually a beautiful set of lyrics that really capture Drake’s anger – are people showing him fake love? Probably not, but he’s so paranoid that they are. It’s a great set of lyrics, but Drake’s delivery is equivalent to a parrot who just got dumped and is feeling human emotions like grief, denial and sadness for the first time in its life. This could have easily been the same spot on my best list, so much that I had to go to random.org to decide if this should go on the best or worst list because this is simultaneously terrible and terrific. That Scary Hours EP is pretty cool though, you should check that out... or if you want a laugh, just open up Spotify and listen to “Fake Love”. Better luck next year, better luck next year, ‘cause I’m excited to start giving Drake love next year.

I put two Maroon 5 songs on my best list. I suppose this is my punishment.

#7 – Maroon 5 – “Don’t Wanna Know” featuring Kendrick Lamar

Everyone’s already talked about this song, so I’m not going to beat a dead horse. I’m going to beat a pissy, mind-numbingly repetitive, vocally ear-splitting, blandly tropical, trend-hopping, Kendrick-wasting, badly-tasting, copy-and-pasting, dung-pile of a horse. Oh, wait, I kind of already did that just now. I’ll just leave with you with one of K-Dot’s most fitting lyrics – from this very song:

No more, please stop

This isn’t a hit song; this is a godforsaken nursery rhyme.

#6 – blackbear – “do re mi” (remix) featuring Gucci Mane

The intro to this song is just a bunch of random noises. I’m not kidding, there’s a few synthesizer sounds, a pitched-up reverb-affected sample of blackbear singing the hook, blackbear’s very own ad-libs, some of which are pitched-down, and Gucci Mane yelling “Gucc’!” at the top of his lungs, which I’m surprised isn’t a meme. You know what else is meme-worthy? This dude’s falsetto.

Do re mi, fa, so f**king done with you

And this hook, these lyrics and that melody. Am I the only one who thinks it would somehow be more obnoxious and cringe-worthy if he said “freaking done with you” instead? No?

I think this song is just purely bitter, but not in a way I can relate to, just dark chocolate without flavour or texture. Fittingly, the instrumentation and production is some of the blandest trap-R&B I’ve ever heard. blackbear sounds like a robot for most of the verse until he breaks out as nonsensical child turned angry R&B sing-rapper who broke up with a supposed floozy. Honestly, Gucci Mane’s verse is pretty good but it has hardly any relation to the rest of the song so it’s almost a certainty that I’ll enjoy it, because this song is garbage. How in the hell did this trash make the year-end? I hope blackbear has another hit because frankly, I quite enjoy some of his music, and I don’t want this to be his only hit. Gucci Mane is still awesome though.

There are two songs on this list with a Beyoncé remix, both of which I have credited as the original instead because I don’t want her to be on the list twice when she’s easily the best part of both songs by a landslide. You know why this next one’s on the list, so let’s not waste our time.

#5 – J Balvin and Willy Williams – “Mi Gente”

To describe this song, I have to ask you two questions, the first one being: Have you ever heard a goat or sheep blaring in a farm or zoo? This is what that screeching ear-piercing sample makes you think of – a herd of goats all angry, hungry and confused – which is taken from a song that samples that very sound as well, from another song. The second question is: have you ever heard a reggaeton song? Of course, you have, you’ve heard “Despacito”, haven’t you? Imagine them mixed together, but no, not mixed in a sleekly-designed modern building, collided in a messy derelict ramshackle of an apartment with sweat dripping down every single piece of dirty laundry, in which the sweat is coming from the rats inside the walls instead of the ghastly insane elderly woman who lives there with her ten cats, who is so moist and dry in old age she has lost the ability to sweat, cry or her favourite thing to do, spit on people. Hence, she’s criminally depressed and so am I after listening to this song, as it is so unbearable to the point where I’m flabbergasted at how this became a top 10 hit. Next!

Wait a second... I don’t even know what “mi gente” means. Oh, it means “my people”? Talking about a group of people, here’s our first, last and only tie on the list, and it’s a doozy.

#4 – Yo Gotti - “Rake it Up” featuring Nicki Minaj / Lil Uzi Vert - “XO Tour Llif3”

These are completely different songs, but they both represent the oversaturation of trap in their sleep-inducing beats, stupid, scatterbrain lyrics that show off every single rap cliché possible (I’ll go into detail some other time in a bonus list after this one) and a whole dose of bad vocal performances, most notably Lil Uzi Vert’s autotuned whining in “XO Tour Llif3”. At least they’re the only God-awful trap songs to be hits this year.

#4 – Kodak Black – “Tunnel Vision”

Oh, yeah, the song about racial profiling that also includes a lyric about or at least implying a reference to your rape charges... I think I know why they want you locked up, mate. While you’re there, we should also give you some basic English education, because anyone who thinks “iggin’” is a perfectly usable word, and that “winning”, “listen” and “iggin’” rhyme with “penitentiary” should probably start re-thinking if the school they went to did the best job they could. Well, at least Rae Sremmurd didn’t have a hit this year.

#4 – Ayo & Teo – “Rolex” / Rae Sremmurd – “Swang”

Two—two of them? We have two of them now?!

Hop out, drop-top, f **k y’all talkin’, I need it right now, right now

What’s with the falsettos this year? Did everyone forget how to sing in a higher pitch properly?

#4 – ZAYN and Taylor Swift – “I Don’t Wanna Live Forever (Fifty Shades Forever)”

Oh, so, that’s a yes, then? How about we just give hits to people who can’t sing at all?

#4 – Julia Michaels – “Issues”

I have issues with this song, but again, it’d be beating a dead horse with a sack of coal. At least it’s a woman who can’t sing this time... Girl power, I guess?

#4 – Halsey – “Now or Never”

Well, at least she can sing, I suppose. It’s just that this song is all over the place, like a bed that’s way too...

#4 – Migos – “Slippery” featuring Gucci Mane

Sorry, Gucc’. I love you, man, I really do, but you associate yourself with some of the worst singers, some of the least interesting rappers, and sometimes...

Two b****es so fine that I masturbated

...some of the worst yet still very interesting lyrics.

Yes, those are all my picks for #4. They are all as equally lazy and incompetent as each other.

Now let’s move onto one song that is somehow worse than every single song in the last spot combined, mostly due to the annoyance of every single possible sound effect the producers crammed into it.

#3 – Hailee Steinfeld and Grey – “Starving” featuring Zedd

I didn’t know that I was starving ‘til I tasted you

Okay, a bit of a weird metaphor, but it adds some sensuality to it all so it gives the relationship some lip-biting romance, so that’s a decent line.

Don’t need no butterflies when you give me the whole damn zoo

Oh... never mind. Seriously, the concept of this line is okay on paper, but “the whole damn zoo” is so forced and downright nonsensical that it really takes me out of whatever sensuality, romance or even fun this line was supposed to be portraying. Butterflies aren’t even typically animals that are perceived as “zoo animals”; they’re found in zoos in those enclosures but that’s pretty much it. What were you going for here, five writers? Seriously, you had five writers, none of which are credited because of sampling or interpolation by the way, three of which being professional, two of which being Grey themselves, and none of those grown men and women could figure out any reason to why this line is incredibly corny, or have the gall to object it? Yes, most of this section has been about that lyric but what else is there to criticise other than that lyric and the drop, which is one of the weakest this year? I’ll pass.

So what’s number #2? It can’t be as bad as that song.

#2 – Imagine Dragons – “Thunder”

...Then dishonourable mentions time it is!

Dishonourable Mentions

Ed Sheeran – “Shape of You”

This is in order of the Year-End and not my opinion because I just want to not talk about “Thunder” as easily and as long as I can. If the most popular song of the year is this terrible, it should be a bad sign, but 2017 is great, so I suppose there are exceptions.

Sam Hunt – “Body like a Back Road”

I’ve made a rule to never put country songs on any lists because I have a negative bias towards them; just never enjoyed the genre that much. Sorry.

James Arthur – “Say You Won’t Let Go”

Boring.

Kygo and Selena Gomez – “It Ain’t Me”

This drop just completely ruins the song.

Logic – “1-800-273-8255” featuring Alessia Cara and Khalid

Khalid saves this.

Who can relate? (whoo!)

Taylor Swift – “Look What You Made Me Do”

This has a really good pre-chorus. That’s about all my positives.

Machine Gun Kelly – “Bad Things” featuring Camila Cabello

“Havana” must have been a fluke.

Ariana Grande – “Side to Side” featuring Nicki Minaj

Wrist icicle, ride d**k bicycle / Come true, yo, get you this type of blow / If you wanna Minaj, I got a tricycle

D**k bicycle... okay, Nicki.

Shawn Mendes – “Mercy”

I suppose this has enough of a rock edge for me to forgive.

Some random teenage nobodies – “that Vine dance song (why do these still exist)”

Dead horse.

Katy Perry – “Chained to the Rhythm”

Are we tone-deaf?

Are you talking to the people who bought your album?

Jon Bellion – “All Time Low”

Out of all of their discography, I can’t believe “Jon Bellion” is the song that got big. “Weightless” is so much better.

Sam Smith – “Too Good at Goodbyes”

This is so perfect that it sickens me.

P!nk – “What About Us”

This is so non-descript that it sickens me.

Cheat Codes – “No Promises” featuring Demi Lovato

Whoever the guy is needs to input the singing codes. It’s D, O, O, R, left.

Shawn Mendes – “Treat You Better”

Ew.

Rita Ora – “Anywhere”

Oh, how I wish you crossed over.

The Chainsmokers – “Closer” featuring Halsey / Future – “Mask Off” / DJ Khaled – “I’m the One” featuring Justin Bieber, Quavo, Chance the Rapper and Lil Wayne

I’ve yet to decide if these songs are heaven-sent or hells spawn.

Now, let’s talk about the demon that is “Thunder”.

Thunder, feel the thunder

There are so many things about this song that make me want to shrivel up in the corner and rot. First of all, there’s the way-too-bouncy trap production for an otherwise triumphant song; it shouldn’t be this joyful and plucky. Those finger-snaps are so blatantly fake, and that synth sounds like literal yawning edited to sound like a chirping tone that just scratches the surface of unbearable. Dan Reynolds in general is an absolute plonker throughout the verses, with the vocal inflections of a Pez dispenser who just, for no reason, slides off into a spiral of autotuned murmuring in the first verse.

Just a young gun, with a quick fuse / I was uptight, wanna let loose / I was dreaming of bigger things / And wanna leave my whole life behind

The lyrics, by the way, are literally saying “I was into this band before you were cool”, which makes the second verse even more aggravating, especially due to the pitch-shifted vocal that appears on every single one of his terrible vocal inflections.

Kids were laughing in my classes / While I was scheming for the masses

Now I’m smiling from the stage while / You were clapping in the nosebleeds

The verses are terrible, but it’s not the worst part of this song, and neither is the next thing I’m going to bring up, but this is awful too.

You know how Kanye West manipulated samples so they’d sound kind of like a chipmunk? Well, Imagine Dragons do the same, however here, instead of a low-key soul-influenced hip hop track, it’s supposed to be a triumphant synth-pop victory lap, so this repetitious pitch-shifted nonsense is unfitting, unnecessary and unbearable. What are they repeating, you ask? The word “thunder”, which Dan does in the chorus as well. Hence, the word “thunder” is used approximately 78 times, excluding when only one syllable of the word is said (that happens a lot too). This song is just barely over three minutes, and there’s not many instrumental parts, apart from a certain section we’ll get to later. “Thunder” doesn’t have as much of an impact when it’s said nearly 80 times in your relatively short song, that was made for pop radio so of course it’s going to be played frequently.

There’s also that guitar solo... that pathetic wimpy guitar solo. There’s such a leap in hatred and lack of quality and redeemable moments from #3 to #2... what was #1? “Perfect” by Ed Sheeran? Well, I hate that song, but technically, it doesn’t count because it didn’t make the Year-End... screw it.

#10 – Cheat Codes – “No Promises” featuring Demi Lovato

Which means...

#1 – Imagine Dragons – “Thunder”

You happy, Dan? I’m officially jealous of you, like you wanted me to be. I’m envious of your success despite several attempts to make the radio play garbage – and not even the good kind like recyclable garbage or guilty-pleasure garbage, just plain, unadulterated crap worthy of no more attention. Congratu-freaking-lations. I’ll see you for the next episode of Reviewing the Charts or the next review or whatever, I don’t care. Goodbye. Hopefully next year is the same quality or even better than this year. So far it doesn’t seem to be even close.

Thun-thun-thunder, thunder.

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benegap · 7 years

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Is Your Dream Guy Missing This Key Trait?

Picture the perfect man. What does he look like? Where does he work? How many zeros are in his bank account?

You’ve probably spent hours—even days—of your life dreaming up this specimen, and every part of him is just right for you. But there’s one aspect you might’ve overlooked: his thoughts.

If you could choose the thoughts your future husband has about you and every woman, what would you want them to be?

Would you want him to drool over you or to hold you in awe?

Would you rather he objectify you or respect you?

Would you want him to worship your body or to cover you with the protection of prayer?

Both men and women have a built-in drive for lasting love. And I don’t kid myself—that kind of love takes serious self-control—and not just where our actions are concerned. It takes thought control.

A woman deserves her partner’s thoughts to be pure enough that she can trust him with all of her love for all of her life; that together, you can be an example for your kids and community; that you can trust him to look at other women with the dignity that they and their future partners deserve.

Pure thoughts—even the sexual kind—are not only possible; they’re essential.

You deserve that level of conscientiousness and restraint from your partner. You are worth that.

But here’s the truth: You can’t engineer your man’s thoughts. And even if you could, you wouldn’t want to because that would make him your slave. And you would lose respect for him, or he would grow to resent you, or both.

Spending your life trying to control anyone is a surefire way to make you both miserable. Here’s what you can do instead.

Become intimately acquainted with a man’s character before you make any kind of commitment to him.

That doesn’t mean waiting three dates before you sleep together. It mean that you should get to know someone in the way that requires exposure to his actions over time, without all the physical love chemicals to haze your objectivity.

A guy can fool you for a while. He can make you believe he’s datable after a day—it might even last several months. I managed to put my best foot forward long enough to convince a girl I was worth her time and energy. But would a man be able to fool you if you knew him for six months as close friends? How about a year? And if he didn’t see sex as an eventual inevitability, would he even try? Probably not.

The longer you’re exposed to someone’s actions, and the more intimately you’re connected as friends, the more certain you can be of his thoughts and, by extension, your chances of a happy life together.

Here are a few questions that you should know the answers to before you dive into a relationship:

What were his past relationships like?

Does he watch porn?

Is he selfless, gentle, and kind under even the most straining circumstances?

Is he noble?

Does he regularly put the needs of others before his wants?

Is he a constant self-improver?

Is he a lifelong learner?

You’ll find answers to those questions and a million more if you think long term—if you love him in a disinterested friendship. If not, you’ll chemically attach yourself to someone whose thoughts might seriously jeopardize your happiness and security. And that’s not some far-fetched what-if scenario: It’s the harsh truth for most daters and married people today.

Pure thoughts—even the sexual kind—are not only possible; they’re essential.

How I trained myself to respect all women with my thoughts:

I pride myself on being a man whose thoughts would give you hope for finding a man. If I’m moved by your beauty, I thank God for you; I rejoice over the beautiful creation before me. Then, instead of imagining all the ways I’d jump your bones, I channel my desire upward—I pray for you.

I ask God for all the blessings you need to thrive in happiness. I pray for your future husband, asking that he be blessed with the discipline and selflessness and courage to do what’s right and to prepare himself to be the husband you deserve.

Finally, I ask God for whatever I need to channel my desire for you into becoming the best husband that I can be—into becoming the best friend that I can be—into becoming my highest self.

You might be thinking, “That’s all well and good, but what about reality, where every guy watches porn and cruises the dating scene for hookups and doesn’t have a halo?”

I’m not a saint. In fact, five years ago I was the most depressingly average male in all of existence. I watched porn almost daily, masturbated just as much, and lived on my mom’s couch. If I were struck by your beauty, I’d save your image in my “spank bank.” Then I’d do everything in my power to charm away your resistance. With no job and no prospects, charm was all I had.

I didn’t care about you or your future husband because my focus was solely on my pleasure. I was like most guys. But then, existence as I knew it unraveled.

After my third and last breakup, I was struck with anxiety and depression that would make a bear shit. I was overcome with pain in my present and despair for the future. I seriously considered harming myself—because love was my whole reason for living. And since I had failed in all three of my live-in relationships, what did I have to live for?

In my darkest moment, I asked myself what I could do differently. And when I really thought about it, I realized I hadn’t put any effort into preparing for my relationships.

I’d hook up with a girl at a party or fantasize about her until she was mine. I killed myself trying to make things work after I’d gotten her in bed—you should’ve seen my desperate love notes. But I didn’t do anything to plan beforehand.

So after my last relationsh*t, I researched this whole love thing. I concluded that unconditional love was the only way. It’s like that cheesy saying goes: If you love someone, you have to let them go. And to let someone go—to let them truly be free—you can’t be attached by lustful thoughts.

Since I wanted to love well, I had to change my thoughts.

I gave up all the activities that had trained me to have selfish sexual thoughts—porn, masturbation, etc. That was over half of the battle. But the other half was how I responded to women in everyday life. And that was the hardest part.

Take my beautiful beach volleyball partner, Amy, for instance.

This girl makes Natalie Portman look like Peewee Herman—she’s that gorgeous. But she has the self-esteem of a freshly molten vulture. Just the type I used to prey on.

In all of our time spent together—tournaments, parties, dates—I could’ve reverted to my old ways. But I told her that I just wanted to be friends from the start. And instead of drooling, I forced myself to respect her and to care for her.

I felt overwhelmed by her beauty, like any man. But unlike most men, I used that feeling as a reminder to be mindful, to choose the best thoughts for her and me, to pray for her and her future husband. And, not surprisingly, we became good friends.

Amy was my first true girlfriend who was strictly a friend. By caring for her with no sexual strings attached, I helped her to rediscover her worth. I was there for her when all the other guys in her life weren’t. And by allowing me to care for her, she helped me become a worthy man.

I now practice mindful sexuality with every girl I meet: cute cashiers, beautiful bartenders, foxy friends. (Gorgeous women are everywhere!) But instead of punching more holes in my heart, I come away from each interaction knowing that I’m a better husband, father, and man. I choose to increase my respect and awe for women in every instance; I refuse to degrade them with my thoughts.

And though I’m single and celibate, I can’t thank God enough for my good fortune. In three years I’ve gone from a lovesick pup to a full-grown man; I’ve created my career and made my independence; I’ve relearned to love my life. But unlike five years ago, I’m lifting up everyone else on my path.

How do you find a thoughtful, disciplined, and pure man?

Be that woman. Channel your sexual desire into becoming the most selfless, fulfilled woman you can be. Do that through mindfulness and prayer—perhaps by taking a year to love yourself. Let go of the thoughts and habits that hold you back from loving selflessly—no matter how “normal” they are. (When our culture is so clearly sick, you really have to start questioning what’s normal.)

Finally, save relationships until you’ve fallen in love with your own life—until you’re no longer looking for something or someone else to make you happy.

It’s a hard path, for sure. But consider the alternatives—heartbreak, insecurity, divorce, and douchebags who only pretend to care about you. Those are the standards for modern love. But you deserve much, much more.

from Health Insure Guides http://ift.tt/2fkKSeS via health insurance cover

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