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bananaofswifts · 3 years

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Taylor Swift appears to be waging war over the serial resale of her old master recordings on two fronts. She recently confirmed that she is already underway in the process of re-recording the six albums she made for the Big Machine label, in order to steer her fans (and sync licensing execs) toward the coming alternate versions she’ll control. But now that she’s followed the surprise release of “Folklore” with the very, very surprise release of “Evermore” less than five months later, the thought may occur: If she keeps up this pace, she may have more new albums out on the Republic label than she ever did on Big Machine in a quarter of the time. Flooding the zone to further crowd out the oldies is unlikely to be Swift’s real motivation for giving the world a full-blown “Folklore” sequel this instantaneously: As motivations for prolific activity go, relieving and sublimating quarantine pressure is probably even better than revenge. Anyway, this is not a gift horse to be looked in the mouth. “Evermore,” like its mid-pandemic predecessor, feels like something that’s been labored over — in the best possible way — for years, not something that was written and recorded beginning in August, with the bow said to be put on it only about a week ago. Albums don’t get graded on a curve for how hastily they came together, or shouldn’t be, but this one doesn’t need the handicap. It’d be a jewel even if it’d been in progress forevermore and a day.The closest analog for the relation the new album bears to its predecessor might be one that’d seem ancient to much of Swift’s audience: U2 following “Achtung Baby” with “Zooropa” while still touring behind the previous album. It’s hard to remember now that a whole year and a half separated those two related projects; In that very different era, it seemed like a ridiculously fast follow-up. But the real comparison lies in how U2, having been rewarded for making a pretty gutsy change of pace with “Achtung,” seemed to say: You’re okay with a little experimentation? Let’s see how you like it when we really boil things down to our least commercial impulses, then — while we’ve still got you in the mood.Swift isn’t going avant-garde with “Evermore.” If anything, she’s just stripping things down to even more of an acoustic core, so that the new album often sounds like the folk record that the title of the previous one promised — albeit with nearly subliminal layers of Mellotrons, flutes, French horns and cellos that are so well embedded beneath the profuse finger-picking, you probably won’t notice them till you scour the credits. But it’s taking the risk of “Folklore” one step further by not even offering such an obvious banger (irony intended) as “Cardigan.” Aaron Dessner of the National produced or co-produced about two-thirds of the last record, but he’s on 14 out of 15 tracks here (Jack Antonoff gets the remaining spot), and so the new album is even more all of a piece with his arpeggiated chamber-pop impulses, Warmth amid iciness is a recurring lyrical motif here, and kind of a musical one, too, as Swift’s still increasingly agile vocal acting breathes heat into arrangements that might otherwise seem pretty controlled. At one point Swift sings, “Hey, December, I’m feeling unmoored,” like a woman who might even know she’s going to put her album out a couple of weeks before Christmas. It’s a wintry record — suitable for double-cardigan wearing! — and if you’re among the 99% who have been feeling unmoored, too, then perhaps you are Ready For It. Swift said in announcing the album that she was moving further into fiction songwriting after finding out it was a good fit on much of “Folklore,” a probably inevitable move for someone who’s turning 31 in a few days and appears to have a fairly settled personal life. Which is not to say that there aren’t scores to settle, and a few intriguing tracks whose real-life associations will be speculated upon. But just as the “Betty”/”August” love triangle of mid-year established that modern pop’s most celebrated confessional writer can just make shit up, too, so, here, do we get the narrator of “Dorothea,” a honey in Tupelo who is telling a childhood friend who moved away and became famous that she’s always welcome back in her hometown. (Swift may be doing a bit of empathic wondering in a couple of tracks here how it feels to be at the other end of the telescope.) One time the album takes a turn away from rumination into a pure spirit of fun — while getting dark anyway — is “No Body, No Crime,” a spirited double-murder ballad that may have more than a little inspiration in “Goodbye, Earl.” Since Swift already used the Dixie Chicks for background vocals two albums ago, for this one she brings in two of the sisters from Haim, Danielle and Este, and even uses the latter’s name for one of the characters. Yes, the rock band Haim’s featured appearance is on the only really country-sounding song on the record… there’s one you didn’t see coming, in the 16 hours you had to wonder about it. Yet there are also a handful of songs that clearly represent a Swiftian state of mind. At least, it’s easy to suppose that the love songs that opens the album, “Willow,” is a cousin to the previous record’s “Invisible String” and “Peace,” even if it doesn’t offer quite as many clearly corroborating details about her current relationship as those did. On the sadder side, Swift is apparently determined to run through her entire family tree for heartrending material. On “Lover,” she sang for her stricken mother; on “Folklore,” for her grandfather in wartime. In that tradition the new album offers “Marjorie,” about the beloved grandmother she lost in 2003, when she was 13. (The lyric videos that are being offered online mostly offer static visual loops, but the one for “Marjorie” is an exception, reviving a wealth of stills and home-movie footage of Grandma, who was quite a looker in a miniskirt in her day.) Rue is not something Swift is afraid of here anymore than anywhere else, as she sings, “I should’ve asked you questions / I should’ve asked you how to be / Asked you to write it down for me / Should’ve kept every grocery store receipt / ‘Cause every scrap of you would be taken from me,” lines that will leave a dry eye only in houses that have never known death. The piece de resistance in its poignance is Swift actually resurrecting faint audio clips of Marjorie, who was an opera singer back in the day. It’s almost like ELO’s “Rockaria,” played for weeping instead of a laugh. Swift has not given up, thank God, on the medium that brought her to the dance — the breakup song — but most of them here have more to do with dimming memories and the search for forgiveness, however slowly and incompletely achieved, than feist. But doesn’t Swift know that we like her when she’s angry? She does, and so she delves deep into something like venom just once, but it’s a good one. The ire in “Closure,” a pulsating song about an unwelcome “we can still be friends, right?” letter from an ex, seems so fresh and close to the surface that it would be reasonable to speculate that it is not about a romantic relationship at all, but a professional one she has no intention of ever recalling in a sweet light. Or maybe she does harbor that a disdain for an actual former love with that machinelike a level of intensity. What “Evermore” is full of is narratives that, like the music that accompanies them, really come into focus on second or third listen, usually because of a detail or two that turns her sometimes impressionistic modes completely vivid. “Champagne Problems” is a superb example of her abilities as a storyteller who doesn’t always tell all: She’s playing the role of a woman who quickly ruins a relationship by balking at a marriage proposal the guy had assumed was an easy enough yes that he’d tipped off his nearby family. “Sometimes you just don’t know the answer ‘ Til someone’s on their knees and asks you / ‘She would’ve made such a lovely bride / What a shame she’s fucked in the head’ / They said / But you’ll find the real thing instead / She’ll patch up your tapestry that I shred.” (Swift has doubled the F-bomb quotient this time around, among other expletives, for anyone who may be wondering whether there’s rough wordplay amid Dessner’s delicacy — that would an effing yes.) “‘Tis the Damn Season,” representing a gentler expletive, gives us a character who is willing to settle, or at least share a Christmas-time bed with an ex back in the hometown, till something better comes along. The pleasures here are shared, though not many more fellow artists have broken into her quarantine bubble this time around. Besides Haim’s cameo, Marcus Mumford offers a lovely harmony vocal on “Cowboy Like Me,” which might count as the other country song on the album, and even throws in something Swift never much favored in her Nashville days, a bit of lap steel. Its tale of male and female grifters meeting and maybe — maybe — falling in love is really more determinedly Western than C&W, per se, though. The National itself, as a group, finally gets featured billing on “Coney Island,” with Matt Berninger taking a duet vocal on a track that recalls the previous album’s celebrated Bon Iver collaboration “Exile,” with ex-lovers taking quiet turns deciding who was to blame. (Swift saves the rare laugh line for herself: “We were like the mall before the internet / It was the one place to be.) Don’t worry, legions of new Bon Iver fans: Dessner has not kicked Justin Vernon out of his inner circle just to make room for Berninger. The Bon Iver frontman whose appearance on “Folklore” came as a bit of a shock to some of his fan base actually makes several appearances on this album, and the one that gets him elevated to featured status again, as a duet, the closing “Evermore,” is different from “Exile” in two key ways. Vernon gets to sing in his high register… and he gets the girl. As it turned out, the year 2020 did not involve any such waiting for Swift fans; it’s an embarrassment of stunning albums-ending-in-“ore” that she’s mined out of a locked-down muse.

#taylor swift #evermore #review

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smuggsy · 3 years

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Can I have a "i sleep better in your bed" for flyboys please 🥺

All right, I know those are supposed to be comfort prompts but I didn’t quite get there. Just a helpless pining Collins for you, my friend.

Collins doesn't fall into unhealthy habits. He thinks it must have something to do with him coming from a very small village, born into an even smaller family. An early bird that took care of the farm in the wee hours of the morning when everyone else enjoyed an hour or two of extra sleep.

A fag or two a day? That's alright, it's only common in the ranks; but he's never been one for alcohol. It would serve a purpose, he thinks, as he turns on his bed for the third time that minute.

Maybe if he knocked down a pint or two he'd get a wink of sleep on this godforsaken place. Which is anything but forsaken, of course. Quite the opposite. They've been sent out to an airfield in Croydon and it's beaming with personnel and new recruits being noisy and chipper, the word "inexperienced" written all over their faces.

Collins knows that's about to change, and he turns once again on his bed as that intruding thought downs on him at 2 in the morning. They've been transferred here for a reason and he reckons any day now the Luftwaffe will give those cheerful new lads a reason to finally get in the air and they will soon have no extra energy to burn off, no impromptu football matches to organize, no more bets to make on their card games.

At that, he finally sits up on his bed and weights his chances. He'd promised himself he wouldn't do this again. It was just a one-night thing, and he didn't even ask for permission to go and use someone else's bed.

(Although, to be fair, Farrier wasn't there to be asked. If he'd been, he'd have probably kicked him back to his own bed with a gruffly grunt.)

There is no infestation of ants round this side of the room tonight, so tonight he's got no real reason to scoot over to the opposite bed and lay down on it, the same thin and overly-soft army-issued mattress underneath but feeling much more comfortable.

Because it smells like Farrier.

Fuck it. He's always up before anyone else and Farrier won't be here till six.

And he's going to be awful tired for his early flight tomorrow morning if he doesn't get a proper four hours of shut-eye.

Farrier's not here.

What Farrier doesn't know won't hurt him.

So, in the dead of night, with about twenty-five other pilots sound asleep, he tiptoes over and gets under the covers with a sigh, his shoulders relaxing and his eyes shutting close with easiness at the familiar smell.

Collins doesn't really have any unhealthy habits.

But this may just be becoming one.

* * *

He's over by the runway when Farrier meets him at eight. His hair is wet and he looks very clean, and Collins actually hears him approaching before he sees him. That same cadence to his footsteps, careless and easy-going yet firmly getting closer.

"Morning," Farrier says, and Jenkins nods his way. Collins finishes fastening up his lifejacket and turns around to greet him, smell of coffee filling the air.

And also the smell of shampoo.

"'Elo," he says with a smile, avoiding Farrier's intent stare because it feels weird, because he really needs to stop using his bed every night when he can't sleep, because it's a violation of his privacy and it's wrong and it's becoming a thing, "good night?"

"Uneventful," Farrier shrugs and he comes closer to stand next to him with his cup of coffee, his free hand buried deep inside the front pocket of his navy-blue trousers, "you'll have a quiet day as well, I reckon."

"I hope not," Jenkins blurts out, turning around and heading for his own Spitfire at seeing their Squadron Leader hopping up, mumbling something about Jerries and the weather forecast.

Collins turns to Farrier with an awkward smile, feeling immensely inadequate standing next to him and smelling that same scent from up close. That's what his pillowcase smells like.

Stop it.

He clears his throat and checks his lifejacket's in place again, unaware of how twitchy he's behaving. Unaware of Farrier following his every nervous movement with an almost-smirk on his face.

"See ya then," he says in lieu of a goodbye, but when he takes a step forward Farrier catches his arm and stops him from leaving.

Collins turns around with sweat on his brow.

"What's up with you?"

"What? Nothing - stomachache. Milk was sour, I think. Good thing yer havin’ coffee," he rants, gesturing towards the half-empty cup Farrier's holding, ignoring the way his ex wing-mate is frowning at him like he's grown a second head, "I need to go."

Farrier's still got a hold of him and he frowns unapprovingly for a couple more seconds before stepping back. Collins makes a run for the cockpit and keeps his eyes forward until they take off.

They're not even out for sixty minutes before they must head back, storm looming over London and air so wet and hot they all make a beeline for the showers soon as they step back on land.

Collins keeps himself busy. He replies to a letter, he plays some poker, he sits down by Hugh when he picks up his guitar and starts singing away the afternoon.

And one too many times he finds Farrier looking at him from afar.

Just looking. Pondering. Not approaching.

He must know he's avoiding him, Collins thinks, and he feels like an idiot. Like a jittery teenager every time he glances around to find Farrier smiling at something his wingmates say but meeting his gaze immediately when he finds him looking.

The sky falling outside doesn't help a single bit.

There's nowhere to go.

When Farrier approaches him, like he'd been waiting for Jenkins to go away to come and chat, Collins runs a hand over his eyes and nods towards him, tired of the idleness and tired of his very useless infatuation.

Maybe he should stop turning down invitations from pretty birds at the pub and have some fun. Fuck the image of Farrier away from his brain, have his very musky scent erased from his memory and replaced by some soft flowery perfume.

"Alright?" Farrier greets.

Collins answers with a sigh and lights up a fag.

"Fuckin' bored," he says, with the cigarette in between his lips and leaning against the window overlooking the runway. It's immensely dark outside, save for one or two bolts of lightning flashing prettily in the distance.

Farrier lets out a laugh next to him.

"You sound like the boys," he comes round to block Collins' view and his eyes glitter with mischief as he takes a bite of his very red apple, "you should know better. Enjoy a quiet day for once."

He offers him the apple as he chews, and Collins shakes his head and can't help but smile at his air of playfulness, the awkward exchange of looks feeling distant and utterly silly.

This is Farrier.

They've been together since they got their wings.

Just his mate.

Nothing else.

"Yeah, well," Collins takes a deep draw and when he talks next, the smoke goes in Farrier's direction, "maybe they're growing on me."

"Yeah," Farrier says, half-heartedly like his mind's someplace else, and he just stares.

From then on, it starts getting awkward again and Collins shifts his weight from foot to foot, at a loss for words and feeling like he's being read like an open book.

It feels like ages before Farrier gestures towards him with the half-eaten apple again and a smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

"You have a very nice cologne, don't think I ever said."

Collins almost chokes.

But it's just smoke in his throat so he simply plays it off as a cough.

"Quite strong," Farrier continues; Collins feels like his soul is leaving his body, like he's imploding, like he's about to pass out, "but nice."

He looks around, maybe someone nearby will come and drag him out of this situation, out of this conversation, is Jenkins gone off already?

"My bedsheets stink of it."

Oh fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

"Dear me, don't look so mortified!" Farrier laughs, he laughs, "I don't mind, but someone will notice, and they'll start talkin'."

Oh fuck, we are having this conversation.

"Shite, look - sorry, I'm sorry, I just, it's - I dunno," yes you do, you do know, you bleedin' idiot, "I sleep better in yer bed, I won' do it again."

"Do it all you want.”

And Collins stops himself from blurting out any more apologies at that, frozen in place whereas Farrier looks positively amused by the whole affair.

The fact that he's taking it so lightly is almost insulting.

"You wha'?" Collins blinks stupidly.

Farrier checks that no-one else is within earshot and shifts the slightest bit closer to him. Just a silent and quick look around that sends off alarms in Collins' brain.

The Scot swallows through a very dry throat and he most definitely doesn't look down at Farrier's throat when he swallows another piece of his apple, that very sweet apple he can smell from where he's standing.

"Is this why you've been avoiding me lately? Acting all weird because you've been sleeping in my bed?"

Collins makes a face. Farrier laughs again, the bastard.

"God, don't say it like that, ye make it sound-"

"What? I make it sound what?"

Collins can't make a sound. He can only look at Farrier, with his hazelnut twinkling eyes staring right into his soul, the brightest of lightning making his pupils go small for half a second, those juicy lips that would most definitely taste of fruit, the collar of his shirt buttoned-down, the suspenders firmly in place on top of both wide shoulders and BANG!

The loudest and closest thunder so far sinks the whole hall into deep darkness, only the very dim light from cigarette tips visible here and there. A collective wave of groans and colourful swearwords can be heard all throughout.

Collins jumps in his place at the sudden deafening sound, and instantly two strong arms come to grab each side of his shoulders to prevent him from moving, and he can't see a thing but he can feel, he can feel Farrier's fingers grabbing insistently at the fabric around his biceps and he can feel him suddenly leaning closer.

And he can feel him kiss him too.

Deep and needy and just a flash.

Like that lightning.

So fast and unpredictable it leaves him heaving for breath and needing to brace himself against the thick window glass. It leaves him tasting apple.

#as always me failing at portraying a scottish accent #(sorry)#i love writing these two #i love writing awkward collins tbh it's like my trademark #poor cols lol i just keep embarrassing him #thank you sm for the prompt!#also i know these are supposed to be fic STARTERS but ehhhh... yeah #dunkirk #dunkirk fanfic #dunkirk 2017 #farrier #collins #farrier/collins #collins/farrier #collins x farrier #flyboys #pilot husbands #mine #my writing

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spellbccks · 5 years

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«♡» ───── I N T R O D U C I N G … *✧｡⋆

a pretty little mess of monsters, if i do say so myself ! these will be much shorter than the last two intros i posted, so keep reading to find 4 / 18 introductions under the cut ! ^♡^

PERCY PAN . . .

. . . the boy who won’t grow up

name: percy pan nicknames: n / a age: eighteen gender: cis male pronouns: he/him date of birth: may 21st, 2001 parent(s): peter pan hometown: neverland occupation: student hair colour: dark brown eye colour: green height: 172cm tattoos: none ! piercings: both lobes pierced ! scars: a long scar across the right side of his abdomen, a scar on his right knee ! faceclaim: hwang hyunjin ♡ ♡ ♡

born in neverland as the biological son of peter pan, percy is a wingless fae.

from a young age, he sort of took on the role that his father had abandoned upon growing up --- percy took on the role as the sort of . . . ‘ lead lost boy ‘ with a whole new group of lost boys. of course, this role of ‘ leader ‘ really only meant that percy took care of them all; made sure they had food & shelter, with the help of his own father, of course !

also, he renamed the lost boys, so they are now “ the skull bois “, because . . . he doesn’t think they’re lost and also ‘ bois ‘ is more gender - inclusive.

he grew up under the stories of his father’s own adventures and his time with the darling. so, as a child, percy used to come down to the mainland a lot --- he liked to dance around the moon and with the stars !

he would sometimes poke his head into open windows or sneak into bedrooms, or even just have his shadow slip into an open window !

he’s basically . . . peter pan 2.0 . . . leave me alone . . .

also peter ? a grade - a father ! the only problem is that he could be a bit too playful and childish sometimes, and so percy isn’t really too . . . accustomed to serious situations and topics.

he’s always been very independent, too ! has a very “ i can do whatever i want and get by on my own ! “ sort of attitude.

he doesn’t�� really . . . want to be in auradon, doesn’t want to be going to uni, but he’s decided that majoring in humanities could help him somewhere down the line.

doesn’t . . . take school that seriously ? like, he does his work and gets good grades, but it’s not the end of the world if he does less than perfect at something !

. . . also he has lowkey ? trust issues ? trusts . . . the skull bois . . . the end . . .

also . . . lowkey doesn’t like the pixie hollow faeries ! unless they’re skull bois somehow ! lmao !

also ! he doesn’t age ! well . . . not after a certain point . . . i’m thinking . . . 18 - 21 is when he stops ?

uh . . . his shadow . . . does what it wants . . . please don’t get mad at it . . . it just wants to be friends . . . it also gets lost a lot . . . it stresses percy out when it gets lost . . . but it be that way sometimes !

uh . . . gimme . . . skull bois . . . the end . . .

CADELL PENDRAGON . . .

. . . the boy with the mismatched eyes

name: cadell pendragon nicknames: cain age: twenty - three gender: demiboy pronouns: she/they date of birth: february 5th, 1996 parent(s): howl jenkins pendragon & sophie hatter hometown: ingary occupation: student hair colour: naturally silver; dyed black eye colour: mismatched; right eye is red, left eye is silver height: 164cm tattoos: a dove behind his left ear, a lotus flower on the back of his neck ! piercings: both lobes pierced, forward helix on his right ear ! scars: a scar on the left side of his chest, right over where his heart should be ! faceclaim: min yoongi / suga ♡ ♡ ♡

born in the land of ingary as the biological son of howl & sophie, cadell is a wizard, though he much prefers the term ‘ witch ‘.

cadell takes after his mother more - so than his father. while his father tends to be charming and flamboyant, cadell tends to be more reserved, more refined and minimalist in the way he does things.

just like his father though, when cadell when young and naive, he came across a fire demon similar to calcifer, but whose intentions were far worse. this fire demon tricked the young boy into giving him his heart so that he could live, and has since been using his own heart against him.

by giving up his heart, cadell lost some piece of his humanity --- or, at least, that much is suspected. as he grew older, he developed some sort of apathy to him, some sort of numbness. he claims that he doesn’t feel, at least not as much as he wishes to. whether this be due to the lack of heart is a mystery, but entirely possible.

the fire demon who owns possession of his heart may also use it to take control of cadell by speaking into the heart --- à la once upon a time --- and uses the bind that they have to inflict pain upon him, even if doing so means inflicting pain upon itself, as well.

now that he’s in auradon, his main goal is to find some way to retrieve his heart, to steal it back from the fire demon who so possesses it.

he’s immensely skilled in all sorts of magic, though he always took a special liking to the magic he inherited from his mother --- being able to speak life into things. this, along with potions of all sorts, had always been his specialties and what he excels best at.

due to his lack of heart, he doesn’t believe he’s capable of love, even though, realistically, he knows that’s not true --- he doesn’t see himself as entirely human and, thus, doesn’t believe he’s deserving of love.

his eyes are mismatched. why ? because he’s cursed ! also, they’re marble - like, once again due to the lack of a heart, and if he were to ever gain his heart back, they would look less marble - like and far more real, once again.

his curse ! the curse that was placed upon him is called the touch of death --- it makes it so that, whereas he used to be able to speak life into things, he now only has the ability of speaking death into things.

the curse was placed upon him by a witch in ingary, as this witch believed that cadell’s habit of speaking life into things was messing with the balance of life and death that their must be on earth.

he’s very reserved ! used to refrain from leaving the walls of the castle ! distances himself from people at all costs !

he’s magical ! he can help sometimes !

someone help him get his heart back ! he will be forever in your debt !

he prefers to be called cain !

and . . . scene . . .

PENDULA CHRONOS . . .

. . . the girl with the cuckoo clock heart

name: pendula chronos nicknames: penny age: seventeen gender: demigirl pronouns: she/her date of birth: april 22nd, 2002 parent(s): time hometown: underland / wonderland occupation: student & time hair colour: black eye colour: bright blue height: 152cm tattoos: none ! piercings: both lobes pierced, helix on her right ear ! scars: a scar along her left shoulder blade ! faceclaim: wang yiren ♡ ♡ ♡

born in underland as the biological daughter of time, pendula is a sort of deity ! as a deity, she has an abundance of magical abilities, all which she inherited from her father and serve to help her preside over time.

her father currently presides over time and the chronosphere, ensuring that it is not corrupted --- which includes preventing time travel from occurring, as disastrous things can happen when one’s past or future self sees their present self.

pendula grew up in the castle of eternity, hardly ever leaving her home as the journey from the castle to the mainland in underland is long and treacherous. thus, the life that she lived was a lonely one and she mostly entertained herself by playing with the minutes and seconds that occupied the palace with her.

despite the loneliness of her life, though, she knows that it’s important that she lives like this, for the sake of the grand clock and time as a whole --- and for the sake of her own life.

she has a clock in her chest in place of her heart ! a cuckoo clock. and with this cuckoo clock heart comes with three golden rules to keep her alive: one) never touch the hands of her heart, two) keep her temper under control, and three) never ever fall in love. if she does any of these three things, her heart will stop and she will die.

in the early years of her life, she had a normal heart, just as any other person has a heart, but when she was six - years - old, some wonderlanders who were still loyal to the red queen stormed the castle of eternity and cut out her heart, as they wanted to use this to bargain with time --- his daughter’s heart for the chronosphere, so that they could go back in time and make sure that alice never kills the jabberwocky.

time didn’t take this negotiation, though, didn’t except the deal, and instead he simply replaced his daughters heart with a cuckoo clock, as he knew that letting the chronosphere out of his possession could be the end of all.

so, after this occurrence and upon replacing her heart, upon teaching her these three rules that she must live with, he decided it was safest for her to live an isolated life, and thus this is when her life became truly lonely.

now, she’s training to someday take her father’s place as time --- or at least help him to keep time in order --- while also studying at auradon prep.

she’s very soft, very friendly, though a bit refined and reserved due to her upbringing.

she’s very excited to make friends, because she’s never had any other than the seconds and minutes in her palace before ! and even then, the seconds and minutes often act more as servants than anything else.

she still tends to be pretty distant, though, as she doesn’t want to break any of the rules to her heart !

she’s not really sure of what she’s interested in or who she is, really, because . . . well, all she’s really ever known is . . . time and clocks . . . so . . . yeah !

and ! scene !

ELODIE ASTER . . . . . . the girl made from cotton candy sunsets

name: elodie aster nicknames: elo age: seventeen gender: cis female pronouns: she/her date of birth: november 23rd, 2001 parent(s): e. aster bunnymund / the easter bunny hometown: the warren occupation: student & guardian hair colour: brown eye colour: green height: 152cm tattoos: none ! piercings: both lobes pierced ! scars: a small scar on the palm of her right hand ! faceclaim: rowan blanchard ♡ ♡ ♡

we all know her ! she hasn’t changed ! this is going to be pretty short !

daughter of the easter bunny ! guardian of hope ! pooka bunny !

has all the same powers and abilities as bunnymund, except her bunny form is small ! like a normal rabbit !

literally . . . the embodiment of hope . . . personification of sunshine . . .

she’s amazing at art ! she gets it from painting easter eggs !

her favourite colour to paint with is purple !

she’s a lot less intimidating than her father ! she’s an easy target ! someone be mean to her !

she isn’t too sure if she wants to be the next official guardian of hope, but even if she doesn’t, she does know she wants to pursue something that will allow her to help children regardless !

okay . . . the end . . . y’all know her . . . whoosh . . .

#«♡» ───── introductions. *✧｡⋆ ⌜ all. ⌟

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river1983 · 5 years

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Prompt #38

Requested by @thatdaughterofabitch , thanks for the request! :)

Ship: Destiel

BACKGROUND: Dean Winchester was a renowned serial killer, responsible for the deaths of 23 innocent lives just this year. His total death count was at 104, and he’s been on the FBI’s Most Wanted list for two years.

Castiel is also a serial killer, with a death count of only 47, but the method of murder was something out of a TV show.

A/N: I’m really sorry if this is completely not what you were looking for.

TRIGGER WARNING: Graphic depictions of violence: murder, mutilation (cutting) PLEASE don’t read if you are uncomfortable.

I’m going to sound like a physco with the descriptive words and overall dialogue of this fic...so DISCLAIMER: IM NOT A MURDERER, JUST A WRITER...WE WRITERS HAVE TO ACCESS THE INNER KILLER SOMETIMES WE’RE WEIRD BUT THIS IS TUMBLR EVERYONE’S WEIRD

DISCLAIMER 2: THIS IS NOT A FLUFFY FIC! It has a lot of violence and overall not good things. Destiel is in it, but there’s a lot of murder.

The language is a probably-translated-wrong version of Enochian. I will put the English translations up here.

**when spelling, Enochian is spelled backwards. So, ‘dean’ would be ‘nead’**

ELASA BIAB ADAGITA BOLAPE VIRUDEN: You are to be beautified

A A DOOAIN DE ELO: In the name of God

Prux, Med, Don: Ron (Spelled backwards)

Ur, Graph, Gon: L, E, I

Gisg, Fam, Un, Veh: T, S, A C

Ome gahalana ooaoana el manada: We will see one another

“Serial Killer AU”

Dean stares at the TV in anger as he saw this infamous Castiel appear on the screen again. The headliner read: INFAMOUS SERIAL KILLER BRUTALLY MURDERS FAMILY OF 4. Dean rolled his eyes as he sharpened his blade, listening to the newscaster as she spoke.

“This just in, the death count increases due to the infamous killer on the loose, named Castiel, who recently murdered and mutilated a woman in Lebanon, Kansas. The pictures and footage are disturbing, viewer discretion is advised.”

The pictures appeared on the screen, and even Dean had to admit, it was art. He paused the screen to look closer at the carvings. They were just like the ones before, on other victims. He had found the language, Enochian, but has yet to be able to translate them.

The screen changed to a video. Finally! Dean thought as he leaned closer.

He’d been hunting this Castiel for weeks, trying to kill him so he could add to his reputation. Yeah, he could kill an ordinary, insignificant human, but why not another serial killer? And no, he wasn’t obsessed...at least that’s what he told himself.

He had yet to find out what Cas looked like, which made him so hard to find. The guy was a real genius, even though it pained Dean to admit it. His carvings were so clean you’d think he was a doctor.

The video showed a man in a entirely black outfit. Black trench coat, dress shirt, dress pants, and tie. His dark, tousled hair looked unkempt but not necessarily bad on him. He had piercingly blue eyes, and a malicious smile. Dean was intrigued.

Castiel whipped around his victim, who was tied to a table, stretched for minimal movement. “Elasa biab adagita bolape viruden.”

He took out a weird looking knife, pointed at the end but expands outward, almost like a detailed cone on top of a handle. The victim’s arms and legs were exposed, and Castiel poised his blade on top of the exposed flesh.

“A a dooain de elo.”

Then he started to cut into the flesh, carving out one of the letters shown in the pictures.

The video cut off after that, but Dean had the mental image in his head of this man, so he cut off the TV. He got up and sat at his desk, picking up his notebook dedicated to Castiel. He stared at the pictures of the carvings on a different victim, trying to piece what the letters meant.

Castiel cleaned his blade as he stepped away from his latest victim. She had died quickly. He set his blade down and picked up a rag to clean the wounds he created, making sure no blood seeped out the dams of skin he severed, that his cuts stayed clean and precise.

When he was done, he left the body there for the cops to find--for Dean to find.

He first heard about Dean on the news when he murdered a group of skateboarders/graffiti artists. He had poured the spray paint into their mouths, causing them to choke on their own form of art. Not the way Castiel would have done it, but he fascinated Castiel.

He knew Dean was after him, and the reasons. His death by Dean’s hand would do great things for his reputation. Cas didn’t mind--it saved him the work of going after Dean himself.

He got back to his home and immediately went to his desk and opened his notebook dedicated to Enochian language, looking over the notes he accumulated over the years.

He first found the language while he was researching for a paper for his English class. It was an ancient dialect, thought to be the lost language of the angels. He fell in love with it, studied it until he became fluent in speech and writing. In fact, it inspired him to kill.

Castiel did not have a bad childhood. He was not an abnormal kid. He played sports, excelled in school, and wanted to be a entomologist. He was, however, a little weird, per say. He had been intrigued with the concept of death at a young age, found studying nonfiction murder mystery books and listening to podcasts about famous murders and murderers. H. H Holmes intrigued him the most. He thought it was genius using a house as a place of murder. He loved the concept of sneaking around a building in secret corridors with different rooms for different murders, no one ever suspecting anything. It was genius.

But Enochian and learning it was the final push for him. He was 26 at this time, and found his first victim at a park, simple and easy. Followed him until he got home, and killed him in his house. He lived alone, so it made no sense to drag him out of a perfectly fine place of death. He had written three Enochian Letters: Prux, Med, Don. The victim’s name. So, ever since, that’s what he did. He found ordinary people and did this to them, sketched their names into their bodies. He didn’t find joy in it, per say, but more of a feeling of content.

This was his calling.

Sure, it was ironic and cliché to used God’ s name while he killed, but it wasn’t because he was a believer. It was because of the language. Nothing about what he was doing should be credited to God.

Subconsciously he muttered his name in Enochian.

“Ur, Graph, Gon…”

He traced the picture of Dean he had gotten from the news. “Gisg, Fam, Un, Veh.”

He smiled. “Ome gahalana ooaoana el manada, Winchester.”

Dean’s childhood was full of abuse and being thrown into a role of responsibility too early. He had three siblings: Adam, Sam, and Jo. His mom died in a fire when he was only six, Jo was four, Adam two and Sam only six months. His father was not the same after the incident, leaving Dean to care for his siblings when he was only six. His father drank and hit him all the time, calling him worthless and the cause of his mother’s death. Dean never said anything, just bottled up the anger and pushed on--he had three kids to look after.

After Sam finally went to college and Dean was on his own, his anger towards his father finally surfaced. He had killed his father by forcing him to chug six bottles of whiskey--not that it was that hard. No one had ever suspected he had anything to do with his father’s death.

Dean was hooked. The adrenaline he felt from taking life from another human was almost like being high. He couldn’t stop.

So, that’s what he did. He didn’t have a day job, but had enough stolen money to last him the rest of his life. He didn’t kill for the money, or the reputation. He killed because he was addicted to it.

Dean ran his hand over his notes with a sigh. If he wasn't trying to murder Castiel for the rep, why was he after him? He didn’t even know of he had money or not, though its unlikely that he wouldn’t.

Dean knew the answer to that question, but he hated it.

He felt drawn to Cas somehow. Maybe it was the way he killed, carving ancient letters into people’s skin. Maybe it was because his devotion to his art of murder. He didn’t know what, but it was something. He wanted to kill him because Castiel was a distraction, and Dean Winchester couldn’t afford distractions.

He skimmed his notes again, looking back and forth between the scrawls of Enochian and the precise, beautiful carves in the picture. He looked back and forth again, then smiled. “Found it.” He muttered to himself, grin on his face.

He quickly scrawled the English translation onto the picture, then stared at it.

He stared at them, not able to make sense of them. What would “edaj” mean?

He looked at his notes again, seeing the small note he had written.

Enochian is spelled right to left.

He looked at it again, and got it.

It was a name, presumably of the victim. If he translated the rest of the victims he would probably see their names too.

Dean spun around to get his laptop. He would research Jade and see if he could find where she lived, and hopefully this could lead to Castiel’s location.

Dean turned on the news after 4 hours of research. Jade’s location was in Chicago, but her murder took place in Lebanon. The most recent victim’s death was also in Lebanon. He wasn't able to find out more, but he decided he would start there. He would pack a bag and ride to Lebanon, which wasn't too far from where he was now.

Dean laughed. He had sworn he would never go back there, not after he murdered his father. It wasn't because of his father’s death, but because it was where his life went to hell.

But to meet Castiel...it’d be worth it.

The newscaster came on the screen.

“There seems to be a message from Castiel, infamous murderer, to another well known serial killer, Dean Winchester here in Lebanon--”

Dean’s mouth dropped open as he paused the screen, processing that information. Castiel knew about him? And left a message? His brain was trying to process it, and he hadn't even seen the message yet. He unpaused the screen.

“--Kansas. It seems to be in the same ancient language seen in his mutilations. Here’s the message:”

Dean scrambled to get his pen and notebook then paused the screen on the message, reading it first.

WINCHESTER, I KNOW YOU’VE BEEN LOOKING FOR ME. LET’S MEET.

GRAPH FAM VAN MED NA FAM’TAL MED TAL DON VAN MED GON

A/N: I can’t copy and paste the actual Enochian letters--so sorry about that!

Dean reread the message. The letters telling him where to meet Castiel was in Enochian letters, so Dean got to work translating. It didn't take him as long as he thought, only thirty minutes, but he got the message. He stared at it for a significant amount of time before taking a deep breath, grabbing his bag, then getting in his impala.

The message?

YOUR MOM’S HOUSE

Castiel sat in Dean’s old house, his victim tied to a chair at the moment, gagged because he wouldn't stop pleading. He was sure Dean would be here soon, he had to have learned Enochian by now if he was following Castiel all this time. He didn’t know why he cared so much about Dean, but he did. He had researched him, the brief semi-bio written by his sibling, Sam. He assumed that his siblings knew of Dean’s murderous tendencies, but haven't turned him in because of sentiment. Castiel had found out about this house from his biography, learned about his upbringing, and numerous facts that led Castiel to invoking Dean. He wanted to meet the man.

A few hours later, he heard the door open. He took his blade, them stood in the hallway, meeting a pair of bright green eyes staring back at him.

Castiel was taken aback. He’d seen Dean numerous times, but something about seeing him in person hit him like a truck.

“Hello Dean.”

Dean Winchester met his eyes at the same intensity. “Cas.”

Castiel cocked his head at the nickname. “Cas?”

Dean shrugged. “Your name’s too long.”

He walked down the hallway, standing right in front of Castiel. “So,”

“So.”

“Why’d you call me here? How did you know about it? About me?”

“I’ll tell you soon...first I have to deal with someone.”

He turned and went back to the room with the victim in it.

Dean followed him. Cas stopped in front of the man in the chair, taking out his blade.

“Your victim?” Dean asked.

“Isn’t it obvious?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Is it okay if I watch?”

Castiel nodded. “I want you to.”

Dean stepped back, getting a good view of Castiel as he did his work.

Cas pressed the tip of the blade onto the skin of the victim as he screamed behind the gag, but not moving.

“Elasa biab adagita bolape viruden.”

Dean recognized the words. It was on the last video shown on the news.

“A a dooain de elo.”

Then Castiel started his work. He looked like he was in a trance, focused only on the skin underneath his blade and fingertips and the language he was etching into them. Nothing else existed. Dean understood that.

It took an hour, but Cas finally finished, stabbed the man cleanly through the chest, then turned to Dean, cleaning his blade.

“You’re a genius.” Dean blurted. “I mean, clearly an artist.”

Castiel smiled. “Thank you Dean.”

He turned examining the cuts he made. “I don’t have much to clean up--we can talk afterward. Here, if you’re comfortable.”

Dean nodded. “I’m fine.”

As Castiel cleaned, Dean took a moment to take in his whole appearance. Every thing about the man screamed dominance. He had a certain aura around him that drew Dean in. It was impossible not to be drawn in. he was like a black hole.

Cas turned. “Follow me.”

Dean nodded. “I know this house, Cas--I lived in it for a chunk of my life.”

Castiel shrugged. “You have a point.”

They arrived in the living room, and sat across from each other. they stared for a while, not saying anything.

“I read about you.” Cas said suddenly.

Dean raised an eyebrow, asking to elaborate.

“Your brother, Samuel, had a small biography about you. I also saw you on the news. Your method of murder...it’s fascinating. Brilliant, though not my personal method.”

Dean scoffed. “There’s no thought behind my methods. You, however, have such precision...I was watching you now. It’s a bit of an honor.”

Cas laughed. God, he had a beautiful laugh...what?

“The language...I fell in love with it. It’s interesting.”

Dean huffed. “That it is. How’d you learn it? I could barely decipher your message.”

Cas smiled. “It took several years...I’m surprised you learned as much as you did so quickly.”

“Yeah well, I wanted to meet you.”

Dean blushed a little. “So, is my method the reason why you called me out?”

Castiel seemed stopped cold by the question. “I...I just...wanted to meet you.” He said. “I felt, drawn to you, to be completely honest.”

Dean sucked in a breath. He couldn’t believe this. “Well, the feeling is returned, Cas.”

“I like that, Cas. It’s much easier to say than ‘Castiel.’”

The two men looked at each other, unsure what to say. This wasn’t turning out how he imagined.

Castiel didn’t know what to do. to be honest, he really wanted to kiss the man. There was no use denying it--Dean fascinated him. No one’s captured that Castiel’s interest in all of his life. But Dean...he was truly worthy of attention.

Castiel debated with himself whether he should so something about it or not. He hated how he was acting like a high schooler about this, but he had just met the man.

“Fuck it.” Castiel said.

He leaned in towards Dean, and met his lips. Dean’s eyes widened, but he didn't pull away. He relaxed, and kissed back.

Cas leaned back into his chair, meeting Dean’s widened, shocked eyes.

“I--Cas--”

“That’s the the real reason I reached out to you. I...want to consider a partnership.”

Dean laughed. “Actual partners in crime, in both senses of the phrase?”

Cas laughed. “I guess so.”

Dean smiled and looked down. “Sure, Cas.”

Castiel stood up, kissing Dean again. “Anyone who says serial killers are emotionless are wrong.”

Dean nodded. “We’re still breaking the law.”

Castiel shrugged. “Do you care?”

Dean picked up Castiel’s blade and handed it to him. “Nope.”

that’s it! I got stuck on this story a bit lol. I know a little bit about Enochian letters, but I couldn’t transcribe the actual letters in this story, so the language in this is probably completely wrong. Anyway, hope you guys don’t think I’m a serial killer now hahaha. thanks for reading :)

-river

#destiel fanfic #destiel #destiel fanfiction #serial killer au #au #alternate universe #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #otp prompts #writing prompts #prompts #im not a murderer i swear #jada writes stuff

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3dnygma · 6 years

Text

tagged by: @jeffreycombs

rules: answer the questions and tag 20 people

last

1. drink - water

2. phone call - my mom

3. text message - to one of my classmates, we were talking about an event that she visited yesterday

4. song you listened to - Now Or Never by Halsey

5. time you cried - mmm I think last week

ever

6. dated someone twice? - nah

7. kissed someone and regretted it - nah

8. been cheated on - kinda

9. lost someone special - not really

10. been depressed - had a sorta depressive phase once but it (fortunately) didn’t last a long time

11. gotten drunk and thrown up - nah

fave colours

12. yellow

13. dark blue

14. wine red

in the last year have you…

15. made new friends - yes

16. fallen out of love - yes

17. laughed until you cried - yes

18. found out someone was talking about you - nah

19. met someone who changed you - not sure

20. found out who your friends are - yes

21. kissed someone on your facebook friends list - I don’t have facebook

general

22. how many of your facebook friends do you know irl - see above ^^

23. do you have any pets - nah, wish I had a cat tho

24. do you want to change your name - nah I’m fine

25. what did you do for your last birthday - my senior prom was very close to my birthday, so I used that one to celebrate c:

26. what time did you wake up today - 10 am

27. what were you doing at midnight last night - doing karaoke at home, with the best friends that I could ever ask for

28. what is something you cant wait for - going to NYC and meeting You-Know-Who

30. what are you listening to right now - Mr. Blue Sky by ELO (from the gotg2 soundtrack)

31. have you ever talked to a person named tom - yes

32. something that’s getting on your nerves - shallowness and valuing status above anything else

33. most visited website - YouTube

34. hair colour - brown

35. long or short hair - shoulder length!

36. do you have a crush on someone - nah

37. what do you like about yourself - I’m polite and enjoy helping others

38. want any piercings? - nah

39. blood type - A+

40. nicknames - my friends started calling me Öva recently :P

41. relationship status - single pringle

42. zodiac - scorpio

43. pronouns - she/her

44. fave tv shows - Gotham, Death Note, FMAB, Scrubs and others

45. tattoos - none but I want a minimalistic question mark someday

46. right or left handed - right handed

47. ever had surgery - yes

48. piercings - just earrings

49. sport - LMAO

50. vacation - London in February and hopefully Paris during summer

51. trainers - don’t care abt shoe brands

more general

52. eating - too much

53. drinking - water

54. i’m about to watch - not sure yet, currently watching GOT

55. waiting for - my trip to London, also the new episodes of Gotham

56. want - meeting You-Know-Who

57. get married - hopefully

58. career - teacher for english and history

which is better

59. hugs or kisses - hugs

60. lips or eyes - eyes

61. shorter or taller - taller

62. older or younger - not sure

63. nice arms or stomach - nice arms

64. hookup or relationship -relationship

65. troublemaker or hesitant - hesitant

have you ever

66. kissed a stranger - nah

67. drank hard liquor - yes

68. lost glasses - always found them again

69. turned someone down - not really

70. sex on first date - nah

71. broken someones heart - I don’t think so

72. had your heart broken - idk

73. been arrested - nah

74. cried when someone died - yes

75. fallen for a friend - yes

do you believe in

76. yourself - I’ve gotten better at it

77. miracles - sometimes

78. love at first sight - idk

79. santa clause - nah

80. kiss on a first date - sure why not

81. angels - nah

other

82. best friend’s name - jasmin and selina (not counting online friends)

83. eye colour - blue/green

84. fave movie - can’t decide, The Shining is one of my favourites tho

85. fave actor - Cory Michael Smith (surprise!)

tagging: @gothamvillains @stvlti @not-a-p0rn-blog @kcgane @spaceblue and @obfonteri

#long post #tagged #about me

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thisisheavynews · 5 years

Text

25 worst Rock and Roll Hall of Fame Inductees ever

Simone Joyner

CLEVELAND, Ohio — It’s that time of year again for people to get enraged. That’s because the nominations for the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame’s Class of 2020 are due any day now.

But before we get to whether newly eligible acts like Oasis, The Notorious B.I.G. and Weezer will make the cut, or if longtime snubs like Depeche Mode, Doobie Brothers or Kraftwerk will finally get in, let’s take a look back.

Like most Halls of Fame, the Rock Hall can be polarizing. While, you can make an argument for just about any artist that has been inducted, there are a few dozen fans will swear have no business in music’s hallowed ground.

In an effort to upset as many people as possible (Not really, but it’s inevitable), we ranked the 25 worst Rock and Roll Hall of Fame selections of all time. You know, the ones that had you scratching your head wondering why them and not [insert snub here].

This is just one man’s opinion, of course. Just remember: They’re all good, if not great artists. But were they Rock Hall worthy?

25. Ritchie Valens

Inducted: 2001

Better option: Link Wray

Associated with “American Pie” (“The Day the Music Died”) after passing away tragically in a plane crash alongside Buddy Holly and The Big Bopper, Valens is a legend. But digging deeper, his Rock Hall resume is pretty light. Yes, he was the pioneer of Chicano rock. And yes, “La Bamba” was a huge hit. But that alone should not have earned him induction when you consider other genre pioneers/one-hit wonders such as Screamin’ Jay Hawkins and Big Mama Thornton have never even been nominated. There were several better options for the Class of 2001 when it comes to 1950s rock and roll pioneers, top among them being Link Wray.

Victoria Will

24. Darlene Love

Inducted: 2011

Better option: Mary Wells

You’d be hard pressed to find a Rock Hall Inductee more lovable than Darlene Love. An essential figure in Phil Spector’s Wall of Sound, Love was (and still is) a great singer. That, along with “Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)” are her two main arguments for Rock Hall Induction. But you can’t help but wonder why her and not The Marvelettes or Mary Wells, two essential acts for early Motown with bigger hits to their names.

Chris Ware

23. The Dave Clark Five

Inducted: 2008

Better option: Lonnie Donegan

Well, this is sure to upset a lot of baby boomers who still geek out to “Glad All Over.” The Dave Clark Five was a very popular British Invasion act of the 1960s, and the second British act after The Beatles to appear on the “The Ed Sullivan Show.” But The Dave Clark Five’s resume, even compared to just other acts of the 1960s, makes them a borderline Rock Hall candidate. Are they that different from The Crystals, Tommy James & The Shondells, The Shangri-Las or Paul Revere & the Raiders: All acts you could argue for or against? A better choice would have been Lonnie Donegan, the most influential recording artist in British history before The Beatles came around.

Getty Images

22. Cat Stevens

Inducted: 2014

Better option: Nick Drake

Cat Stevens had a great run during the first half of the 1970s, with two very essential albums and a string of hits. But you have to wonder how the Rock Hall landed on his name instead of a wide variety of 1970s acts that have never even been nominated, from Doobie Brothers to Emerson, Lake & Palmer to Jim Croce. Even in his own genre, you could make a better case for Nick Drake who, as time goes on, feels like a better choice than Stevens, given how the former’s influence continues to be felt in the artists of today.

Keystone Features

21. Small Faces/Faces

Inducted: 2012

Better option: New York Dolls

It’s easy to see why fans of bands like Mott the Hoople, J. Geils Band or Little Feat might cry foul that their favorite act isn’t in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Small Faces/Faces are. We’re dealing with a combination of two acts here, a la Parliament-Funkadelic (Though, far less significant). The talent and, to a lesser extent, influence are there. Both the Small Faces and, more so, Faces’ back-to-back to basics style and care-free attitude would influence several acts of the 1970s. But in that regard, the impact of, say, the New York Dolls was much greater. After all, Rod Stewart and Ronnie Wood were going to get in anyway.

Getty Images

20. Donovan

Inducted: 2012

Better option: Phil Ochs

A lesser Bob Dylan? Sure. But you could say that about any folk artist really. Donovan’s impact runs deeper, primarily in his merger of folk music with psychedelic pop. But where Donovan falls short is in having just a handful of hits that resonated in the States. That’s not enough to justify his induction over artists who came before such as Phil Ochs or Judy Collins. And how the Nominating Committee saw fit to nominate Donovan years before Joan Baez is beyond me.

19. The Paul Butterfield Blues Band

Inducted: 2015

Better option: John Mayall’s Bluesbreakers

Let’s face it. Before being nominated for the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame multiple times, most mainstream music fans had never heard of The Paul Butterfield Blues Band. That doesn’t mean the band wasn’t impactful. The Paul Butterfield Blues Band was integral in bringing Chicago blues to white, suburban audiences in the 1960s. But the band’s lack of “Fame” and the fact that an landmark blues artist like Son House shockingly can’t get a nomination makes you question how The Paul Butterfield Blues Band got on the ballot, let alone chosen over Kraftwerk, Nine Inch Nails, Chic and others nominated for the Class of 2015.

Hulton Archive/Getty

18. Electric Light Orchestra

Inducted: 2017

Better option: Jethro Tull

When you take into account Jeff Lynne’s production legacy, then you can make a solid case for Electric Light Orchestra’s Rock Hall worthiness. But the band on its own — I’m just not seeing it. ELO got in as part of the Nominating Committee’s surge in recent years to include B (or maybe even C) level classic-rock acts. But nothing really puts Electric Light Orchestra ahead of other 1970s acts s like The Guess Who, Bad Company or Bachman-Turner Overdrive. Then again, I wouldn’t induct those bands either.

AP/Los Angeles Times

17. Laura Nyro

Inducted: 2012

Better option: Judy Collins

Laura Nyro is one of the first names that comes up when people list the least deserving members of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. And it’s easy to see why. It feels like her nomination was plucked out of thin air. That doesn’t mean she wasn’t a great artist. Nyro most certainly was. But she feels somewhat fringe compared to almost any other inductee. She’s sort of like a lesser Randy Newman, where as the Rock Hall could have opted for someone with more influence like the aforementioned Judy Collins.

Getty Images

16. Frankie Lymon & the Teenagers

Inducted: 1993

Better option: Billy Ward and His Dominoes

Frankie Lymon and the Teenagers were nominated for the Rock Hall every year since the beginning until they were inducted in 1993. Why did the Nominating Committee have the group on par with the greatest rock and roll acts of all time. Sure, Lymon has a compelling story as a child star who died young. But while the lack of noteworthy catalog has kept other influential 1950s acts out of the Rock Hall, namely Johnny Ace and Jesse Belvin, it didn’t affect Lymon. Maybe in the “Early Influences” category this makes sense. Otherwise, can most people name anything besides “Why Do Fools Fall In Love?”

Stephen Lovekin

15. Little Anthony and the Imperials

Inducted: 2009

Better option: Ben E. King (solo)

Little Anthony and the Imperials’ longevity is impressive. Of all the acts come out of doo-wop and move into R&B, few, if any, had a longer run. But the significance of that run is debatable, especially when you start rifling off the list of influential R&B artists that aren’t in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame: Joe Tex, Mary Wells, Junior Walker & the All Stars, Ben E. King (solo), The Crystals, etc.

George Konig

14. Del Shannon

Inducted: 1999

Better option: Chubby Checker

It must have been easy to get behind the idea of Del Shannon being in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame when artists like Tom Petty and Jeff Lynne practically worshiped the ground he walked on. But Shannon is one of those artists whose legacy is really built around just one song in “Runaway.” Yes, it was a No. 1 hit and Shannon had a distinct style. But why him and not someone like Chubby Checker or Tommy James & The Shondells.

Getty Images

13. Bobby Darin

Inducted: 1990

Better option: Screamin’ Jay Hawkins

Looking at the list of successful artists of the 1950s, Bobby Darin certainly has some of the deccade’s biggest hits, including “Splish, Splash” and “Mack the Knife.” But how much those songs resonated in the decades that followed? Darin was a famous star who became an actor. But musically, it would have benefitted the Rock Hall to have pushed for an artist with a more unique style and sound.

Ian Showell

12. Chicago

Inducted: 2016

Better option: Procol Harum

Saying Chicago was a successful band during the 1970s would be an understatement. But even after selling all those records, they never really felt like a larger than life act. And when they came close, they morphed into a lame soft rock act with songs like “You’re the Inspiration” and “Hard to Say I’m Sorry.” Yes, Chicago brought horns into rock in the 1970s. But they weren’t the first or, arguably, the best at it, considering the Mothers of Invention and Electric Flag haven’t been nominated.

Plain Dealer Historical Archive

11. The Lovin’ Spoonful

Inducted: 2000

Better option: The Shangri-Las

I’m okay with kicking The Lovin’ Spoonful out of the Rock Hall based on the band’s Induction Ceremony performance alone. Yes, the band had some hits during the 1960s. But they weren’t a game-changer the level of peers like Grateful Dead or The Mamas and the Papas. And in terms of the 1960s as a whole, you have to imagine the impact of act like Joe Tex or The Shangri-Las stretches much further. Heck, I’d take The Monkees over these guys all day, everyday.

Robert Cianflone

10. Bon Jovi

Inducted: 2018

Better option: Iron Maiden

If we’re talking just commercial appeal, record sales and longevity, by all means Bon Jovi belongs in the Rock Hall. Influence and authenticity? Not so much. I could get behind the band’s induction more had Desmond Child been included, since there’s something to be said for the songwriting on choruses to songs like “Livin’ on a Prayer.” As it stands, however, I don’t see any significant changes to the history of rock music if Bon Jovi never existed, other than the Goo Goo Dolls never becoming a band or there being fewer songs to sing along to at weddings. Why Bon Jovi and not Boston, Thin Lizzy or Bad Company?

9. Journey

Inducted: 2017

Better option: Duran Duran

The arguments for and against Journey and Bon Jovi are the same. Only, Journey fans are even more passionate, and, thus, more likely to slash the tires on my car. Yes, “Don’t Stop Believin'” is an indelible pop song. But you know who else made at least one indelible pop song? Duran Duran, Whitney Houston, the Go-Go’s and INXS, each not in the Rock Hall despite having more influence on today’s music landscape than Journey. Whose getting in next: Nickelback?

M. McKeown

8. Gene Pitney

Inducted: 2002

Better option: Harry Nilsson

There’s a case to be made for Pitney in a specialty category, considering his work as a sound engineer and songwriter on hits like “He’s a Rebel” and “Hello, Mary Lou.” But as a “Performer” it doesn’t make much sense. His impact during the 1960s doesn’t measure up to other acts that aren’t in the Rock Hall like Love, Dick Dale or Jan and Dean.

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7. The Moody Blues

Inducted: 2018

Better option: King Crimson

The Moody Blues made good (if not boring) music, some of it great. But this an example of the Nominating Committee and its Boomer voters preferring a second- or third-tier classic rock act rather than a top-tier band from a later decade. The Moody Blues certainly weren’t the kind of groundbreaking act snubs like T. Rex, The Jam or Kraftwerk were.

Plain Dealer Historical Archives

6. Bill Withers

Inducted: 2015

Better option: Lionel Richie and the Commodores

Bill Withers is a fine R&B act with a handful of great soul songs. But even within his own genre, maybe (MAYBE) he rates as one of the 100 most important R&B acts of all time and certainly isn’t in the top 50. The Nominating Committee seemingly pulled Withers’ name out of thin air and voters went for it, despite there being several better options in the forms of Chic, Luther Vandross, Kool & the Gang, Barry White, Rick James, The Commodores and The Ohio Players. I could go on.

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5. Jeff Beck

Inducted: 2009

Better option: Dick Dale

If prior to 2009, Jeff Beck felt like a Rock and Roll Hall of Famer, it’s because he was as a member of the Yardbirds, and rightfully so. But there was no reason for him to become a two-time inductee, other than the Rock Hall wanting to put together a guitar showcase at its annual ceremony. Beck is undoubtedly one of the greatest guitarists of all time. But his solo career leaves something to be desired in terms of significance.

Promotional Handout

4. The Dells

Inducted: 2004

Better option: Teddy Pendergrass

If you find something significant that separates The Dells from a large group of other like-minded R&B/doo-wop acts from the same period, please let me know what it is. The Dells have one (“Oh What a Nite”), maybe two (“Stay In My Corner”) essential hits, which somehow got them into the Rock Hall ahead of The Dramatics, The Stylistics, Harold Melvin, Teddy Pendergrass, The Dramatics, The Spinners, The Del Vikings and The Chi-Lites, among others.

Ethan Miller

3. Joan Jett and the Blackhearts

Inducted: 2015

Better option: The Runaways

This concept of Joan Jett as the archetype of the female rock star is a bit weird. Yes, when you think of a woman with a guitar, she comes to mind. But she did not invent that or do anything with it that hadn’t been done before. In fact, her two biggest hits are cover songs. The fact that Joan Jett & the Blackhearts are in the Rock Hall and The Shangri-Las aren’t is a bit absurd. That’s not to say Jett doesn’t belong in the hall. She’s just in there with the wrong group. The Runaways were far more essential.

Timothy A. Clark

2. Percy Sledge

Inducted: 2005

Better option: Joe Tex

There’s a thought among some people that a push for Percy Sledge to get into the Rock Hall was made after he performed at Steve Van Zandt’s wedding. I’m going to ignore that, only because, if true (which it may very well be), it’s INSANE! Sledge has one hit. That’s not discredit his other work. That’s just a fact. “When a Man Loves a Woman” is all anyone knows. Does that make him influential? Sledge was an important artist in terms of southern soul in the 1960s or, better yet, “When a Man Loves a Woman” was an important song, one of the essential hits of the decade. But, in terms of body of work, there just isn’t much else there.

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1. Stevie Nicks

Inducted: 2019

Better option: Tina Turner

If the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame were to admit Stevie Nicks was nominated because she finished first in the “Voice Your Choice” in-museum fan vote, I’d let this go. However, the Rock Hall Foundation has said the vote had no influence on the committee. So we’re left to wonder why Nicks was worthy of becoming the first two-time female inductee. To say Nicks has more than one essential album or song would be a reach. And while she’s an influential figure, most of that (if not all of it) can be chalked up to her time with Fleetwood Mac. The list of women who have had better solo careers than Nicks is too long to list here. So, I’ll just list the women who would have made better two-time inductees, which includes Tina Turner, Diana Ross and Grace Slick.

from Heavy News https://thisisheavynews.com/25-worst-rock-and-roll-hall-of-fame-inductees-ever/

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spynotebook · 7 years

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Bonjour, my bonny mailboxes. Thanks to your abundance of excellent letters, I have an extra big mailbag for you today! So let’s get right to it: What’s the best Guardians of the Galaxy soundtrack? Who could save the Transformers movie franchise? Why did WB decide to make the DCEU’s Batman so damn old? And more of your excellent and/or nerdy questions answered!

Machete Kills

Arnold C.:

Mr Postman, how do “Rogue One” and “The Force Awakens” affect the “Machete Order”? Start with “Rogue One”, and then move into “A New Hope”? Or, not even worry about R1? TFA after RoTJ for sure, right? What do we do about Episodes VII, VIII, and IX?

What if this does keep going on? If it extends forever, is there a point where you just watch all of SW numerically?

Let me start by informing anyone who might be unaware that the Star Wars “Machete Order” posits that people should watch A New Hope and Empire, then the prequels, and then Return of the Jedi, which is all essentially just to preserve the Vader-is-Luke’s father reveal. Some people even drop The Phantom Menace entirely. How to include The Force Awakens and Rogue One in this order is obviously causing some people some consternation. But I, as always, have the answer.

Arnold, over my many, many years as a nerd, I have discovered a truth, and it’s that only you know the best way to introduce someone to the Star Wars movies. Trust your feelings. Retract your targeting computer. Listen to the voice of the deceitful old man in your head.

I’m only partially kidding. We can say there’s a “perfect” order to watch the ever-increasing pile of Star Wars movies, but there really isn’t. I could almost argue that having the sequel trilogy makes the Machete Order better, in that Return of the Jedi wouldn’t just be hanging out there alone, only watched after the prequels, but Rogue One in particular has messed everything up.

Does anyone really think that Rogue One is the best entry into the Star Wars universe? Sure, it’s a hilariously direct prequel to A New Hope, but without seeing New Hope first, much of Rogue One would be weird if not outright off-putting. Seeing Star Wars first gives Rogue One the dramatic weight it needs to be truly exciting. And what the hell happens when the Han Solo side story shows up? It’ll almost certainly be set before Rogue One, but a Star Wars viewing order that starts Han Solo, Rogue One, then A New Hope does not sounds good to me—and certainly no way to potentially create a fan. And what about all the cartoons? Now that everything is canon, don’t they belong to be somewhere in here too?

But here’s the truth: There is no perfect order to watch these films, at least for everybody. But there can be a perfect order for you, or whoever you want to show it to. I will always want to start with A New Hope, because that’s my first, and my lynchpin to the Star Wars universe. But kids who grew up with the prequels are likely perfectly fine watching Episodes 1-3 and then the original trilogy. Meanwhile, some people will be fine—maybe even significantly happier—if Episode 1 is omitted completely from the viewing order. And maybe the best way for you to watch Rogue One is by watching the original trilogy, then the prequels, then Rogue One, and then A New Hope again. My point is there isn’t a universally correct answer here.