#if it isn’t obvious I am talking about Joe and Nicky | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shadowhannibad · 3 years

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TIRED

I’ll start by saying that I hate that I’m doing this. I did not want to give these people more of my time and attention, but alas, there’s only so much public bashing and vagueblogging a person can take. The infamous lazaefair has composed a list containing the ao3 ID user numbers of twelve people, made up of writers and artists, to be blocked “due to recent events”.

I’m in the list. My ID user number is 8779004: ClaritaWinter. Now that you know this, does it make it easier for you to block me? “Oh, of course that racist cunt is there! Block on sight!” or does it make it a little harder? “Oh, I’ve read a few of her works and I enjoyed, damn, what should I do now?”

Regardless of your answer, this situation is disgusting. The list is being seen by some as just a helpful way for people who want to curate their fandom experience, but since you can’t actively search the people on that list, you will have no idea who’s content you are “protecting” yourself from. Some of the people in that list have never written porn. Some of them have never drawn porn or anything remotely close to it so far. Others have written 20k+ fics solely focused on Joe that will be immediately dismissed for the simple, small and (what should be) irrelevent detail that Joe topped in it or it was written by an author who commonly writes topJoe (yes, the trend of using top/bottom as “the rule of the thumb” to assess how racist is a a fic continues).

What I’m gonna say here is pretty much obvious but... do not outsource your opinions. You can check those people and decide that yes, the content they create is not for you and this case, by all means, block them, make your experience online better. But don’t do something just because someone told you to, not without proper context, especially when that person has proven time and time again how malicious her intents are. Lazaefair is not an authority on fandom racism. She does not get to decide or to tell you which works are racist and what aren’t. Or which ones are intentionally harmful or unintentionally fall under racist stereotypes. She does not get to sanction how a person should write Joe based on her whims, morals, her personal experience that isn’t of a MENA gay man.

Every talk about representation and racism in this fandom always gets warped back into the top/bottom narrative to the point, and that weakens their own argument. Joe-centric fics now are only bottom Joe fics, then? TopJoe isn’t racist in itself, as they keep saying, but if you’re looking for racist trends in fics, well, then the topJoe tag is where you should begin. Are you serious? And you still don’t want people to perceive this as a top/bottom discourse? Or as policing? Every action that they take contradicts their own words.

I’m only naming lazaefair here because she was the one who made the blocklist (and other redundant, pathetic list as well), but I know there are plenty of other vocal perpetrators that have backed her up since… July 2020. That’s right, since July. I’m not going to name them in this post because they haven't attacked me directly as she has done it, so cowardly, twice.

I started writing fanfiction in January, 2021. TOG is literally the first fandom I have ever written for. English is my second language, I’m not a professional writer and my fics are usually short, around 3k. All of my fics have been TopJoe. All of them, without exception. I’m not ashamed of that, and I am aware this puts a target on my back in this fandom, but I ask you, do your own research, go through my fucking ao3 first and see for yourself. If you still think my content isn’t for you, at least it’s your choice.

If I hadn’t been so used to the general mess that this fandom is, this could’ve broken me. I’m still very, very insecure about my writing and I’m always surprised that people take their time to read what I write at all. In case people think that the members on that list shouldn’t be offended, here’s what this list is pretty much saying: These authors and artists are racists because they write/support top!Joe content. They’re dangerous. Protect yourselves.

How in the fuck am I not supposed to take this personally and not be pissed off? Tell me, how?

I’m not saying I might not have reproduced racist stereotypes in my writing. I am a human being living in a racist, cisheteronormative, capitalistic society, so yes that’s a possibility. Even though I always try to be mindful about giving Joe dimensionality and not to make his sole character revolve around Nicky (of course, some of my fics are just porn and neither one of them have much in terms of dimensionality so, well). But do I deserve to have my user put in a list that is telling others that my porn is a danger to society?

It’s also very interesting that this is blowing up right in the middle of a fun event that the TopJoe server is running and decided, for the first time, to open it to the general public.

If you have made up your mind about me based on other people’s opinions, I literally don’t have anything else to say to you. If you don’t, I will just ask you this: Don’t outsource your critical thinking. Don’t go after someone without knowing their side just because SJW #3 said you should. Do your research.

But you don’t get to tell me how I should feel about that list. It’s not your ID in it. It’s not you that have had your views and words turned into something ugly by someone whose sole purpose seems to be to drive every person with a topJoe preference out of this fandom. It’s not your friends having anxiety attacks right now. You do not get to do that.

Last but not fucking least, if you are a “mary-go-with-others” (as we say here in Brazil) then yeah, fucking block me, I don’t want weak-minded people around me.

#the old guard #tog #joe x nicky #immortal husbands #kaysanova #nicky x joe #yusuf al kaysani #nicolo di genova #fandom discourse #discourse

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pale-silver-comb · 4 years

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I think I’ve finally put my finger on why the proclamation of love in the old guard had me going rabid with joy. Aside from the everything obvious of course. I think the wording and the scene itself is something we would see on a fanfic. It is the kind of scene we’ve been writing/reading for years in the world of fanfic because the creators of the original content have always been cowards and not included that soul bearing love moment until now.

I just wrote a much longer reply to this on mobile and tumblr, naturally, decided to eat it *sigh*.

I think you’re completely right, nonnie!

If I remember, Greg Rucka, who wrote the comics, said it was important that Joe and Nicky’s relationship was a happy one and a natural part of the narrative. Which is exactly what fanfic provides. Fanfic isn’t written for “progressive points”. Fanfic - if about a couple/OT3 etc - is never going to boil down to the equivalent of “this scene is the only scene that confirms this character is queer/has a loving relationship with this person, and it can be cut if needs be”. You can relax with fanfic. You know what you’re getting.

And that’s exactly what we are given with Joe and Nicky. Their scenes can’t be cut. Even if Joe’s speech to the guards in the van got cut, those words of love are weaved through so many other tender and loving moments in the narrative, often like it is in fanfic. Their love is also not the center of the film. And by that I mean I am very grateful for media that shines a light on how difficult it is to be queer/coming-out stories but too often these stories can be limited to only that struggle and it can be painful and intense for viewers who have already gone through it/are going through it.

Joe and Nicky get to exist comfortably within a bigger narrative in the way most straight couples get to exist in media. As in, we get small moments - plural - that are domestic and intimate. That are light-heated and raw. We get looks and casual flirting and snuggling. Each moment is a reflection of Joe’s words in the van. Even without Joe’s words, we understand what these men mean to each other with every scene they share. For once I wasn’t sitting with bated breath thinking “please let there be some type of confirmation this is real”. And I think that’s why Joe’s speech is a lot like fanfic because it’s not the typical surprise “confirmation” scene. I love that Joe’s words in that scene are a love letter to Nicky and don’t give the guards the satisfaction of seeing a hurtful taunt land. Joe’s response isn’t “I’m so fed up of these homophobic comments, aren’t you?” but instead “you couldn’t even begin to understand the love I feel, so shut up” and that’s so powerful.

When I read fanfic, it’s often for the small moments. I don’t really care about big dramatic build-ups. I just like reading about characters I love holding hands or warm in bed drinking hot-chocolate and sharing jokes. Maybe one of them had a bad day and just wants their hair played with a bit. I like that because it’s real. And I like that’s what is given to us with Joe and Nicky. I am so thankful their relationship wasn’t ambiguous until the van speech or - spoiler - the moment Nicky gets shot in the lab and you see Joe anxiously cradled over his body wondering if he’s going to wake up. I am glad it wasn’t a surprise. I’m glad it was embedded through the whole film. I’m so happy the conflict wasn’t their relationship. I’m so happy they got to exist and be soft. Honestly, it’s all I want these days. I’m tired of having to see characters - in particular marginalized characters - always struggle for love. Let the struggle be something else and let love be the thing that provides comfort.

And that’s why I 1000% agree about the wording of Joe’s speech to the guards being like fanfic because the words are a soothing balm, not a reminder of hardship (something mainstream media usually prefers to talk about). They aren’t about what Joe and Nicky have struggled with and against to be together. They aren’t about what probably has been a hard journey. Those words are 100% this man is my safe place, my world, my everything, so please stop talking, you’re embarrassing yourself.

And. I. Love. That.

#joe x nicky #the old guard #fandom

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solaradastra · 4 years

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Now, I'm thinking about Joe a lot – and I like to talk about him a lot, too. And what I like immensely about him, among lots of other things, is his attention to detail when it comes to himself. I'll admit it, I'm a sucker for his sunglasses, his baseball cap and of course for his necklace and rings.

So first things first: I still can't believe they cut the scene that was hinted at in the trailer and did not grant us the chance to see Joe with those cool sunglasses in the final cut of the movie. However, we see those sunglasses laying on the coffee table in the hotel scene at the beginning of the movie, so I am somewhat reconciled. But not completely. (Yes, I am demanding to get this deleted scene eventually, rather sooner than later, if you don't mind, Netflix!)

Well, they probably thought 'Come on, we're giving them those combat sunglasses, that'll do, let's not spoil the audience too much'. Yep, thank you very much. I mean granted, those sunglasses he's wearing in the helicopter make him look like an even cooler cat than he already is anyway. But pleeeeaaaaase, the costume department did such an amazing job with those sunglasses from the deleted scene, it would be a shame not to release the scene at some point. Don't do it for us, Netflix, do it for the costume department!

But yes, those combat sunglasses are definitely cool, too, especially in combination with the baseball cap, of which a lot has been said in fandom already. I know we all would love to get down to the bottom of: where did Joe get the cap, why did Joe get the cap and why on earth is Joe wearing the cap back to front. Regrettably, I don't have the answers, apart maybe from the last question: Come on, people, admit it, because it looks hot and cool and endearing and sweet and to die for all at the same time. In my opinion Joe really enjoys looking as cool as possible in that combat situation in an almost childlike way, and I love him for it.

Now, the necklace and the rings. At first I thought there is an incoherence of some sort when it comes to when Joe's wearing his jewelery and when not. In some scenes it's really difficult to spot whether or not he's indeed wearing necklace and rings. Best example is the hotel scene, which drove me almost insane when I was looking at it in order to do some screenshots. What it comes down to is that you don't really see Joe's hands in that scene at all, while you see the hands of Nicky, Andy and Booker practically the whole time and could do the most wonderful screenshots. So, no screenshot of Joe's hands there, although I can assure you that he's wearing his rings: you can see it for a split second when Andy and Booker are talking to Copley and Nicky and Joe are eavesdropping on them. But no use in trying for a screenshot, it's a blurry mess.

Almost as bad as the rings is the necklace in that scene. Again, you basically don't see it – Joe, my love, couldn't you have unbuttoned your shirt a little more...? Just for science, come on! Well, too late now, but after he embraces Andy we get a tiny little glimpse of the necklace and I was even able to take a screenshot (as we can see in the pic above) – mission accomplished.

To cut a long story a little shorter: Apart from the fight sequence at the beginning of the movie, where we don't get any chance of seeing what Joe is wearing underneath his combat outfit and his gloves, as well as the last two scenes in the pub and at Copley's, necklace and rings are always there, even if not always as obvious as in the van scene (rings) or after being captured by Merrick (necklace). He's not wearing them in the train scene, probably because that's right after their mission – so I'd say he takes necklace and rings off during missions and puts them back on later. In this case once they were in the safehouse, although Joe's definitely wearing his necklace under his shirt in those scenes. We only get a short glimpse of it during Booker's (more or less useless, haha) account of the attack.

By the way, I think it's rather funny nobody took off his jewelry once he's in Merrick's lab. Seems a bit odd to me... but then again, I'm not complaining.

So, why did I tell you all this? Oh well... does it matter? Does there always have to be a reason? Can't a girl just busy herself with, you know, a bit of scientific research...? (*cough*cough*)

Oh please, it's Joe, for heaven's sake! Isn't that reason enough? Thank you.

#I just can't stop thinking about this guy #what can i say #I'll probably come up with more stupid shit #joe #marwan kenzari #the old guard #mytxt #mypics #myedit

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ariesnicolo · 3 years

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teacher au preview!! @of-scythia

for context: nicky is coming to the school a few days early to set everything up in his classroom and get his orientation/paper work done, and joe stops by his room to say hello and then ends up walking him to the admin offices but they make a stop at joe’s art classroom first. not exactly fluffy pining like i said before but i wanted to show what kind of teacher joe is. pls enjoy <3 (also Alessa is the name of nicky’s younger sister)

As the two of them walk down the hallway together, Nicky remembers that they’re in the hallway for art classes. Nicky never found out which room was Joe’s during his tour with Copley, and he admits that he’s very curious to find out which room is his and what it looks like. “Which room is yours?”

“Oh, this one is mine.” Joe points to a slightly open door on the left side of the hallway, stops so he can open the door more and show Nicky inside. Nicky’s first impression of the room is that it’s a disaster. Joe’s classroom was the one Nicky saw earlier with the sketchbooks and pencils scattered around, but now that Nicky can actually take in the room, he realizes it’s much more than that.

Joe’s classroom is a lot bigger than Nicky’s, which Nicky quickly comes to understand is a necessity. Where Nicky’s classroom has about thirty individual desks, Joe’s room has six big, wooden tables scattered around the room surrounded by stools. Under all the sketch books, the tables are covered in a mess of color that Nicky can only assume is from paint and colored pencils. The walls are completely plastered in the student’s work, and Nicky spots paintings, detailed sketches, photos, and a few tasteful collages. Joe’s back counters are covered in complicated art supplies that Nicky can’t even begin to understand, and the windows in his room are covered in very thin, colorful paper, designed to look like stained-glass windows.

Nicky wants to ask if it’s actually Joe who needs help setting up his room, but he keeps that question to himself.

“It isn’t normally this messy.” Joe says, a little wince accompanying his words. “I’m just organizing the sketch books to return them to any students who aren’t taking any classes with me again.”

Nicky nods, figuring that every other part of Joe’s classroom is just as chaotic during the school year. The lack of organization for the rest of Joe’s stuff would bother Nicky, but it doesn’t seem to bother Joe, who is probably used to his room looking messy at the end of the day. Nicky can’t even imagine the horror scene an elementary school art room would be at the end of the day. “Were these all done by your students?” Nicky asks, looking around and pointing to the art on the walls.

“Yeah.” Joe sighs, and Nicky looks over at Joe to see a proud shine in his eyes. “If they’re comfortable with it, I keep all their work on the walls during the school year. I hate taking it all down at the start of the new school year, but I would never have space for anything new if I didn’t return them to the students.”

“They’re all really good. You have very talented students, Joe.” Nicky says, looking at a beautifully detailed picture of a field of wildflowers at sunset. Nicky’s eyes then catch a colored drawing of a man wearing a short, white wig and black frame glasses. Nicky does a double take on the painting, looking at it again just to be sure. “Is that… is that Danny DeVito?”

Joe laughs loudly at the surprise in Nicky’s voice, but quickly confirms that it is Danny DeVito. “I assign a portrait piece in three different mediums for all my juniors to help with their portfolios, and it can be a portrait of anybody, so Marissa- that was her name, she chose to do Danny DeVito.”

“That’s not his real hair, is it?” Nicky had only seen one movie with him in it at Alessa’s insistence, something about a little girl with special powers, and even though Alessa made him watch the movie repeatedly when they were little, Nicky doesn’t know much about him. “It looks very realistic in the drawing.”

“No, he’s practically bald. I think.” Joe says, furrowing his eyebrows as if he has to think about it to be sure. “This was just from a show he was in that she liked.” Joe smiles, but it’s small and private, like he’s thinking of the student who did this portrait. “She graduated last year and now she’s at RISD.” Nicky doesn’t know if that’s good or bad for Marissa, and it must show on his face. “Oh, uh, it’s a college in Rhode Island that’s one of the best for fine arts.”

“That’s nice. You must have been really proud.” Nicky says, because it doesn’t take a genius to see that Joe carries his pride for his students and their work in his heart. From the way he talks about his students to how he treats their art with such respect, Nicky has no doubt that Joe is a wonderful teacher and loved by every student he comes across.

“Yeah, I am.” Joe says, but the way he says it and how he looks around at all his previous student’s art, Nicky feels like he’s intruding on something personal. Nicky lets Joe have his moment to think and reminisce and looks at more of the art on the walls. All of the pieces are exceptional and detailed and well thought out, but it’s the variety in the art that gets Nicky.

It’s clear that Joe assigns themes for each project, like portraits or nature or still life, but Nicky gets the impression that each student is allowed to take that theme and do what they want with it. Nicky spots a beautiful painting from an outsider point of view of a group of people looking up at a cloud with the outline of another person in it, like Mufasa in The Lion King. Nicky also sees an equally skilled painting of The Scream, but instead of having a person’s face, it has the face of a mouse and the background looks like it’s been placed in a cage. Nicky gets the sense that Joe loves, and even encourages, all his student’s weird artistic choices.

Joe claps his hands together, breaking Nicky’s train of thought and directing his attention to Joe’s hands. Nicky’s brain short circuits when he sees that Joe is wearing thick, silver rings that are engraved with something Nicky can’t make out. Nicky thinks it’s really unfair that Joe is clearly a kind, thoughtful person and has an obvious love for all his students, but he also has shoulders that drive Nicky wild and he wears rings that Nicky is endlessly curious about.

#this is my side blog that i finally started sorry if there is any confusion about that #again sorry if it cuts off weird i just didn't know where to stop and that seemed like a good place #hope you like it and that this whole thing will be worth the wait <333

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qqueenofhades · 4 years

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*snatches up book reccomendations for queer muslim history* Also by O.E. I meant Ottoman Empire; lmao whOOPS. Also talk of this makes me think of monastic marriage and I want to scream into the void about chaste religious husbands.

Also catch me out here screaming about Nicky joining a Cistercian order. (I have a lot of feelings about Nicky as a monk)

Lmao, I apologize for not thinking of that interpretation for O.E. myself (in my defense, it’s been a long day and I haven’t actually seen it abbreviated that way before, even if it’s probably the most obvious referent in that context). Someone helpfully suggested it in the comments, however, so we got there in the end. The Ottomans are indeed probably what most people think of in terms of premodern Muslims in or adjacent to Europe, but as I highlighted in the ask, there is a TON of non-Ottoman medieval Islamic/European history, and it’s still something which most people don’t really know much about. We can cynically remark that this is often the case when it comes to any kind of medieval history in the West, but it goes double for medieval Islamic history, especially anything that isn’t some variant of “blah blah crusades religious extremists blah.”

I am very happy that you found the queer Muslim book recs helpful!

As for monastic marriage, I presume you mean adelphopoiesis and its forever-contested “was it medieval gay marriage or not??” argument, which I have written on a few times (the post that represents my most recent thinking on the subject is in my gay knights answer). Basically, it’s impossible to say whether it was “gay marriage” as we would interpret it or not, because while we know the intended designation for the institution, we can’t say how every medieval man who took a “brother” would have viewed their relationship. Some of them would have have indeed lived as chaste life partners, while others.... well, they had sex, because of course they did. This represents the innate tension in adelphopoiesis as potentially both a homosexual and homoromantic institution when the two things are not necessarily always equivalent (and reflects the broader problematic trend of tying legitimate historical queerness to the actions of physical/sexed bodies, as I talked about in this long discussion of medieval trans queerness). But the implicit claim that adelphopoiesis is only “valid” as a queer institution or representation if the partners then had sex (discounting the entire framework of chastity in medieval sexuality and of course touching on the broader attempt of ace/aro erasure in contemporary queer spaces) is of course total nonsense, and the “brothers” were not less valid even if they didn’t sexually consummate their relationship. So yes, chaste monastic husbands are one of the rather delightful possibilities for premodern queer life that deserve more appreciation.

Also yes, post-First Crusade Nicky in particular could have definitely been drawn to the Cistercians, for angsty reasons, so I absolutely support this headcanon/feelings about him. I also discussed the historical likelihood of post-1099 Nicky (especially if he hadn’t yet gotten together with Joe) joining the priesthood/monastic orders in this ask.

Anyway, thanks for letting me ramble a bit. I promise I will stop self-indulgently linking all my own posts now, but I just have FEELINGS and also THOUGHTS about the historical gays, and in my defense, again, it’s one of my actual fields of study, so hey. What else am I on tumblr for.

#a-little-bit-of-ultra-violence #ask

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rileywrites · 4 years

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If you’re still doing prompts, this is from your prompt list in the random section — nos. 4 or 14, or from the fluff section, no. 12, in yet another of my reluctantly shipped ships, the Book of Nile. *sigh* (I have fulfilled the requirement of the manifesto) 😆

I wanted to give you options just in case someone already asked for any one of these!

Or, if you want, you could go for my original prompt, which would be: Nile has now learned Italian, Ancient Greek, Modern Greek, perfected her Arabic, etc. When Booker returns to the fold, Nile asks him to teach her French, (which Andy, Joe, and Nicky always said would be his job when he came back) but he basically gives her the “Ask your mother” “Ask your father” treatment, passing the responsibility like a hot potato between the other members of the Guard. After some time has passed, Nile catches him quietly singing songs in his old dialect of French, and oddly, only when the two of them are alone in a room. Since his old dialect has basically died out, she can’t exactly google translate. But she begins to suspect something’s up when Quynh stops dead in her tracks after she walks in on Booker singing something while making breakfast, as Nile sits at the table, enjoying everything, which leads to Quynh disappearing, and quiet laughter coming from the bedrooms. After a confrontation, he admits he didn’t want to teach her French, at least not for a while, because he wanted to have the ability to tell her how he feels about her through singing ancient French love songs, without her knowing, promising himself he’d teach her his language, when or if the day ever came that he could tell her in words.

I’m so sorry it’s a bit long, but this just popped in my head, and I know you’ll do wonders with this, if you decide to do it. No hard feelings at all if you don’t!

Thank you so much, you’re an amazing writer, you capture the voices of the TOG characters so well — I always smile when I see your name pop up with a new BoN story on AO3!

Thank you for this wonderful prompt, darling! I have absolutely run with it. I will write the snippet prompts eventually, but this one grabbed me by the throat.

Read on Ao3 Here.

...

After fifteen years with the Guard, Nile has a pretty good handle on just about any language you could think of.

Nile can give a eulogy in Spanish, ask for directions in Pashto, negotiate a weapons deal in Russian, woo a honeypot target in Italian, con a businessman in Greek, and navigate trade in Arabic. She can read, write, and speak Ancient Greek (circa Nicky and Joe's era) and is passable in several dead languages from the Steppe and Southern Asia. She's decent at Mandarin, getting pretty fucking good at Vietnamese, and doing her damnedest to learn Hindi. (It's a struggle.)

The one language she hasn't picked up yet is French.

It isn't for lack of trying. Her grasp at French is enough to not get her killed, but most of her practice has been with Quebecois or the dialects spoken in Morocco. Basically, if she spoke French in France, they would laugh at her, and her comprehension isn't great

"When Booker comes back, he'll teach you," Andy promises. "He has the most modern French between the five of us. It will do you better to learn from him."

"That doesn't do me any good in the interim," Nile points out.

"He'll be back any day now," Andy says. "Trust me, he'll crack soon."

...

Nile gets to their most recent safehouse late after a long night of schmoozing. She hates long cons, hates that some of humanity's evil can only be taken down with espionage and not brute force.

Her feet are killing her. These sky high boots make her ass look amazing, but her leg muscles regret every life choice she's ever made.

The TV is on, even though Joe and Nicky are supposed to be on recon. With Andy and Quyhn in Istanbul following a lead (to keep a grouchy Andy off of desk duty for a weekend), Nile's senses are on high alert.

She enters carefully, gun drawn.

"Don't shoot," Booker says, hands up. He smiles slightly. "I would have messaged, but I don't have your latest code."

"I still have the Nokia you gave me," Nile points out. "Andy could have told you that."

"Maybe I wanted to surprise you."

"You definitely have too much of a death wish for someone who can't die."

Booker doesn't have a comeback for that. Nile holsters her gun.

"Hug me, you sneaky bastard. It's been literal years."

He doesn’t need to be told twice. He crosses the room in two strides and steps into her waiting arms.

When they collide, it knocks the wind out of Nile's lungs. Breathing is irrelevant anyway, when she's in Booker's arms.

"I missed you, asshole," Nile says into his shoulder, probably getting makeup on his dumb denim shirt.

"I missed you too. I'm sorry that I did not visit sooner." Booker rubs one massive hand over her back. "Your feet probably hurt. I should let you get changed."

"One more minute."

Later, when Nile has had time to change into an oversized t-shirt and Nike shorts, her wig back on its mannequin head, Nile sits down with her feet in Booker's lap and grills him for information.

"I got sober about five years ago." Booker rubs her feet without hesitation, well-trained from centuries with Andy. "I haven't had a drop since."

Nile nudges his chest with the foot he isn't massaging.

"I'm proud of you. It can't have been easy."

"It wasn't." Booker bats her foot away. "It was worth it, though. You deserve a better teammate - you all do. Besides, I don't need to spend the rest of my immortality intoxicated. Six thousand years is a long time to be drunk."

"So what have you been doing since?"

"I spent a lot of time Journaling, processing my emotions. I worked in several literacy programs across the world, staying long enough to help but not too long." Booker shrugs. "Safer that way, I guess."

"Did you bring me pictures?"

"Of course. I have no clue how you keep finding film for Polaroid knockoffs though. It's twenty-thirty-five."

"I have my ways." Nile makes grabby hands in his direction. "Pictures. Please tell me there's pictures of you holding cute children you're teaching to read."

"Of course there is." Booker finds the envelope in his bag, careful not to dislodge her.

The tiny gesture is so fucking heartwarming it hurts.

"I have training in literacy coaching in English and French, so I've worked just about everywhere."

The photos are fucking adorable. Nile flips through them with glee, enjoying the tiny humans and huge Booker sharing textbooks and screens. One little girl in particular pops up in several.

"That's Adelaide," Booker says when Nile holds one up. "I stayed in Port Au Prince for almost a solid year, because I couldn't bear being another to abandon them. When she was adopted by a family in the church, I decided it was time for me to come home myself."

"That reminds me. You're back, which means I finally get to learn proper French."

Booker hesitates.

"Come on, Book, I know you have the qualifications." Nile retrieves her feet so she can kneel by his side on the couch. "You promised. Andy promised. No one else will teach me."

"Nicky hates French," Booker points out.

"I know, and everyone else is too stubborn. They all want you to teach me." Nile fidgets with his rolled-up sleeve. "I want you to teach me."

One good bat of her eyelashes later, and Booker finally agrees.

"Fine, fine, I will teach you French."

"Yes!"

"Eventually. For now, you need rest. Andy will insist on a stupidly early call tomorrow."

...

Six months later, and Booker hasn't said three words to Nile in French. He uses it on jobs, with Joe and Andy, when he talks to himself, but not with her.

They end up in Calais for three days, longer than expected, and Nile bugs him to go out with her.

"Come on, you can teach me in the field. I can practice." Nile pokes him in the arm. "You can laugh at my shitty attempts to use your language, and then you can correct me. Fun and educational!"

"I have too much to do, Nile. I have to make sure this program runs properly, or else we can't get on that plane." Booker waves her off. "Go read something. We have more books than sense here."

"That's not hard, when you're dumb." It's petty, infantile, but it gets Booker to smile and that's enough. "Fine. Don't think it's the end of this, though. You promised to teach me."

"I know, ma cherie, and I will. But for now, entertain yourself."

Nile grumbles. "I am forty-one years old. Don't act like I'm a child."

"I know you aren't a child. However, you are being a brat, so shoo."

"Asshole."

Nile pokes through the books in Booker's latest pile and fishes out something newer and trashy. Brainless. It'll do.

(And if she gets him to throw couch pillows at her by doing dramatic readings of the worst bits, all the better.)

...

Booker has been back in the fold for almost a year.

"Booker, you promised."

A year, and Nile is still just as shit with French - except for the curse words. She knows a whole stable of curse words now.

"Ask Andy."

Nile huffs. "I've been asking Andy for almost sixteen years, Booker. She says you'd be the best one to teach me."

"I don't know about that," Booker says, frowning.

"You're the French one."

"They've spoken French since it was invented."

Nile sighs. "Forget it. I'm going for a run."

She slides her ancient Nokia into her armband and pulls on her sneakers. A run will clear her head.

He doesn't say anything when she leaves. Nile tries not to take it personally.

They're in Istanbul, following up on the lead Andy and Quyhn have been chasing down. They're going to the Hippodrome in the morning, but for now, Nile has the evening to herself.

Why does this whole French thing piss her off so much?

(Nile isn't an idiot. She knows why.)

Maybe she'd be less irritated if he hadn't started singing recently.

It's nothing too obvious, just little snippets of old-sounding songs in a version of French that is either impossible for her to spell, too old for Google Translate, or both.

Nile turns a corner, mentally marking her distance as her feet hit the pavement.

Maybe she wouldn't care as much if Booker sang when the others were around, but he doesn't. It's just when it's the two of them.

Booker is asleep in the armchair by the time Nile gets back. She pokes and prods at him until he's awake enough to shuffle back to the bedroom.

"We've got a long day tomorrow." Nile shakes him gently. "Don't fall asleep in your boots."

"M'good," Booker says, then mumbles something incomprehensible in French.

"Goodnight, Booker."

"Bonne nuit, ma cherie," Booker says.

Nile can figure that much out.

...

The next morning, Nile wakes to singing and the smell of breakfast. She pulls on a hoodie and shuffles out of her room, scarf still on because fuck it.

"G'morning," she says, muffled by a yawn. "Coffee?"

Booker pours her a cup as she sits at the table. Before she's done with the coffee, an omelet appears before her.

"You are the fucking best." Nile digs in, content to enjoy the moment.

Good food, good company, and surprisingly good singing.

Nile is halfway through her omelet, Booker still be-bopping around the kitchen singing, when Quyhn and Andy get in from their morning run.

Both freeze in the doorway before Booker can notice, but Nile watches their minds race.

"Good morning," Nile says.

Quyhn whispers something in Andy's ear, and they walk quickly back to their bedroom.

Booker seems to realize they're there about the moment quiet giggling comes down the halls.

Nile didn't realize Andy could do anything other than chuckle gruffly these days.

Booker blushes bright red and his eyes go wide.

"Booker, your breakfast," Nile points out before it can burn.

"Fuck." Booker rescues his omelet. "I should go talk to them."

Nile stands, hemming him into the kitchen.

"Why are they giggling, Book?"

Booker refuses to make eye contact, but Nile doesn't back down.

She's been a mercenary for a decade and a half. She's faced down gangsters and serial killers and oligarchs. She can handle pinning Booker down with a glare.

"They, ah..." Booker rubs the back of his neck. "They speak French?"

"I know they speak French. Why were they giggling?"

Booker finally makes eye contact.

"They're love songs, Nile. I've been... I've been singing sappy shit from my youth, because I knew you wouldn't understand."

"That's why you wouldn't teach me."

It isn't a question, but Booker nods anyway.

"I was scared," he finally admits. "Scared for you to know."

Nile wants to say something meaningful. Wants to sweep him off his feet, wants to kiss him stupid, wants everything in the world.

Instead, she steps back.

"We have a job to do. Tonight, if you want to, if you're ready, I want you to translate your songs for me. Then we can talk, yeah?"

"I-" Booker nods. "Yeah. Yeah, that works for me."

She turns on her heel to go get ready for the day, leaving Booker in the kitchen staring after her, baffled.

...

Later, blood and mud spattered and healing from a sizeable fall from a horse, Nile limps into her bedroom. She manages to get most of her layers off and into a basket to see if they can be salvaged, but her ribs are still healing so bending too much is out of the question.

Getting her bra off is an Olympic event.

Booker doesn't knock until after she's showered.

"Come in."

"I brought you... well, the translations." Booker holds out a new-feeling leather journal. "I wrote down all the ones I could think of. You can read them, and I'll just-"

"Sit," Nile says before he can escape. "Please, stay."

Nile reads, connecting words to tunes he's been singing for weeks.

They're sappy, fond, romantic, saucy. Nile enjoys peeking up at Booker to see him blush almost as much as the love confession she's holding in her hands.

When she reaches the end of the lyrics, Nile crosses the tiny bedroom and looks Booker in the eyes.

"Booker?"

"Yes?"

"Are you ready to teach me French?"

Booker nods, blushing. "If you would like, ma cherie."

Nile finally kisses him. "I would like that very much."

#rileywrites #asked and answered #prompts #Anonymous #RileyWrites Fanfiction #my work #the old guard #tog fanfiction

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moviewarfare · 4 years

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A Review of “The Old Guard (2020)”

With more movies constantly being delayed because of the Coronavirus, the only new movies appearing seems to be streaming service movies. The Old Guard is an American superhero (sort of) movie based on the comic book of the same name. It is directed by Gina Prince-Bythewood who I'll be honest I am not familiar with and also written by Greg Rucka who wrote the comic book. I was very interested in watching this movie after seeing the first trailer as the premise of immortal badasses sounds very interesting. Plus it has Charlize Theron who is awesome and Chiwetel Ejiofor who has always been great in my opinion.

First things I will praise is the main heroes cast. Charlize is still pretty badass as "Andy" and very convincingly so. The new recruit "Nile Freeman" played by KiKi Layne gives a great performance as a sort of POV character for the viewer. The supporting cast is also pretty good with Matthias Schoenaerts as "Booker" giving a very conflicting emotion to being an immortal, Marwan Kenzari as "Joe" who gives a very memorable speech while being very romantic and Luca Marinelli as "Nicky" who is quite the witty guy. Every single one of them is quite charming and from their performance alone can give the audience a sense of their personality. Most of the actors are also great in these action scenes and it is very obvious that these actors threw themselves into practising these action scenes themselves.

The villains in this movie, however, is something I am quite mixed about. Chiwetel Ejiofor plays one of the villain "James Copley" who is meant to be more sympathetic and there is a great emotional performance from him in the third act, comes out as very predictable and plain. Harry Melling from Harry Potter fame as "Steven Merrick" who is the main villain for the second half comes out as over the top and cartooney which contrasts massively with the others who are more grounded and believable.

The action scenes are very clearly inspired by John Wick and are pretty cool to watch albeit they don't do anything new with it. They are filmed a bit weird with a lot of zooms and sometimes random shaky cam although the shakiness isn't Jason Bourne bad and are still visible. My problem is the lack of action scenes. There are not a lot which is kind of disappointing and the trailer pretty much showed all the action scenes in the movie.

The premise with the immortals which is one of the reasons why I wanted to watch the movie is generally pretty good and utilised mostly effectively but no character ever loses a limb which is a shame considering you have immortal characters. The rules of their immortality is a bit iffy and not completely explained which kind of irks me a bit and feels a little bit lazy.

The story is something I am also a bit mixed about. The first half of the movie with it about training a new immortal "Nile" is really enjoyable. Seeing the conflict between long time immortal "Andy" and new immortal was great and seeing their different opinions about life was interesting. The emotional moments in the movie are great as well. Seeing "Nile" clash with the fact that she can't even die or age and realising she might not ever see her family again was saddening. "Andy" and "Booker" talking about their heart-wrenching past with flashbacks to help illustrate it as well is genuinely great stuff. As I stated before but "James Copley" gives a believable explanation to his motive that is very sympathetic. If this movie did anything right then it was these emotional moments and fleshing out the characters. However, the second half of this movie feels like a cliche of superhero movies and turns this movie into feeling generic. They now have to take down over the top bad guy dude from Harry Potter and this is where the story takes a large dip for me.

My final criticism with the movie has got to be the soundtrack. It sucks. The soundtrack contains a lot of pop songs which kind of took me out of the movie as it tends to contrast with the scene that was happening right now. For example, they play a pop song to build up an action scene and it just feels dumb.

Overall, despite my fair amount of criticism, the movie is okay. It doesn't do anything revolutionary or make me come out of it feeling something or thinking about something but I did still have a good time. The movie premise had great ideas but might have worked a lot better as a TV show in my opinion. Still, it does end with the blatant sequel tease and despite it all, I would be interested in watching a sequel.

#movies #movie review #charlize theron #netflix #the old guard #harry potter #john wick

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mrepstein · 5 years

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The Guardian Review (The Guardian - December 18, 1998)

‘The secret life of the real fifth Beatle’ by Jon Savage

'No one else had the flair, the panache, the wit that Brian had,' says Paul McCartney. So why did he die miserably and alone?

Jon Savage describes how Brian Epstein fell victim to drugs and the pressures of being a secret homosexual

From the day that he first experienced the Beatles at Liverpool's Cavern - "a vast, engulfing sound" - Brian Epstein devoted his life to their success and well-being. "He just had this vision," says Alistair Taylor, with whom Epstein made that lunch-time visit on December 9 1961. "Within half an hour, he wanted to manage them. He could see what they could become."

From that meeting came a cultural and social revolution. The Beatles changed everything and Epstein was the architect of that change. The statistics are staggering. By the end of December 1963, Epstein's acts - the Beatles, Gerry and the Pacemakers, Billy J Kramer - had spent more than 30 weeks at number one in the 1963 UK charts; four months later, the Beatles held the top five places in the US top 40 - a hitherto unthinkable feat, and a coup not repeated since.

You'd have thought that managing the biggest group in the world would be enough - Elvis's manager, Colonel Tom Parker, couldn't believe that the Beatles' manager had more than the one act - but, during the next three years, Epstein continued to manage the enduringly popular Pacemakers and Cilla Black; he expanded NEMS (North End Music Stores, the Epstein family firm) into dozens of companies; he managed the bullfighter Henry Higgins; he produced the West End premiere of James Baldwin's Amen Corner; he ran a West End theatre, the Saville, which showcased Jimi Hendrix, Little Richard, the Four Tops and a wide range of rock and soul talent.

For all this achievement, history has not been kind to Brian Epstein. As a result of his premature death in August 1967, people regard him as a prime example of that old adage - "money can't buy you happiness". When his homosexuality became public after John Lennon's excoriating, 1971 Rolling Stone interview - the gloves came off. Subsequent accounts - most notably in Albert Goldman's book, Lives Of John Lennon - promoted ideas that have stuck; that Epstein was lousy at business, dominated by the Beatles, sad. Even Joe Orton had a pop in his diaries: "A thoroughly weak, flaccid type."

Yet, as ever, you have to consider who is doing the telling. Epstein rejected Orton's Up Against It script for a possible Beatles film, and Goldman's source for some of his factoids was Nicky Byrne, who was in litigation with Epstein for two years. The problem for anyone rash enough to approach the Beatles' story yet again - no matter at how oblique an angle - is that the myth has become so encrusted with assertion and counter-assertion that when you couch it in book form you have a problem of who to believe that is library-sized.

So, in making The Brian Epstein Story for Arena, director Anthony Wall and I decided to forget about all the books except Epstein's own A Cellarful Of Noise, published at the height of Beatlemania in August 1964. We didn't want theory; we wanted to talk to people who had been there, who had known Epstein. Because, for all the media fuss surrounding the Beatles, their manager has emerged as little more than a cipher in their story - yet his was a central role: as Paul McCartney says, "If anyone was the fifth Beatle, it was Brian, you know."

Our first port of call was Epstein's ghostwriter on A Cellarful Of Noise, Derek Taylor, who, despite his grave illness, received us with perfect grace. Taylor had been through the full white light madness of the Beatles' August 1964 US tour as their press officer; his own writings contain the most incisive accounts of the Beatles and their myth. "Brian was undoubtedly very impressive," he remembered, "A very soft appearance. He didn't look as though he did any exercise, but then a lot of people didn't then. I certainly didn't, and I was very thin. Cigarette smoking. So was he, nervy. Very well dressed, very good suit, lovely shirt: these were what made people different. The detail.

"It is extraordinary that he could be almost immediately acceptable to those four. The only way it could have worked is if it was absolutely right. It was on, in other words. It's no good pretending it works if it doesn't. But thinking big: that's what bound Brian and the boys together. They all did think big. When he signed them up in that office in Whitechapel he told them: "I think I could help you." He actually believed he could, and he was prepared to sit it out with them, with all their cheek and impudence. In a way they had a lot in common: just the vernacular was different."

To Epstein, the Beatles arrived as the answer to a question that had been gnawing at him for his whole life. Born on September 19, 1934, he was the eldest child of a prospering merchant family. Brian was mercurial, obsessive, and stubborn in pursuing his own path. His school days were disrupted by war and anti-semitism. His ambition to be a dress designer crumbled under family pressure. His dissatisfaction led him to an unsuccessful stint with RADA; his national service had ended prematurely with his discharge on "medical grounds".

By 1961 he was making a success of the family business, but was, by his own account, "a little listless and bored". The shadow here, which could not have been admitted when A Cellarful Of Noise was published, was his sexuality. Taylor explains: "He wouldn't have had anything in there that implied or hinted at homosexuality, because of the danger of jail after the Lord Montague thing (a prominent gay scandal in which three men were jailed in March 1954), which was a frightening, horrible witch-hunt only 10 years before. But he told me this after only a morning: and how well did he know me? Not well, but a bit. It was a risk."

It’s easy to forget now - when, despite pockets of resistance, there is greater public tolerance - just how off the map homosexuals were in the fifties and early sixties. Epstein's own thoughts on his life are contained in a document written for his then solicitor in the late fifties, notes for a defence against a charge of importuning: "I believed that my own willpower was the best thing with which to overcome my homosexuality. And I believe my life may become contented and I may even have attained a public success. I was determined to win through the horrors of this world. I have always felt deeply for the persecuted: for the Jews, the coloured people, for the old and society's misfits."

The truism is that Epstein's interest in the Beatles was fuelled by sexual attraction, and this may well be the case. A persistent rumour which can be neither proved nor disproved (as both parties are now dead), is that he had an encounter with John Lennon while on a spring 1963 holiday together in Barcelona, as imagined in the film The Life And Times.* Yet this is an essentialist argument: even if Epstein did feel a sexual pull, it could easily have been transmuted into the care with which he managed the group. Not every sexual desire has to be physically acted upon.

There was another element in their mutual bonding: for the first time in his life, Epstein felt as though he belonged. "A lot of stress has been laid on Brian fancying John Lennon," says pop manager Simon Napier-Bell, who encountered Epstein at the end of his life; "But I think it was far more being a loner and suddenly finding he was part of a group. I think that was much more what he was interested in, and that brought him into a broader group again than the Beatles."

According to McCartney, this theatricality was the key: "We had been playing together a little while and we were starting to feel that we were getting good. But we needed someone to push us and give us a few clues as to how we might go further. It became obvious that Brian was that person. He had a theatrical flair, having gone to RADA. He knew a lot of people. He was a great networker, so it became clear he would be very good for you. It is always very helpful having someone theatrical out front; there's got to be someone out there who says: 'That was really good" or 'When you moved over, they lost you. Don't do that next time.' It's a director: that's really what he was."

When the Beatles hit in the way that Epstein had predicted in 1962 - "One day they will be greater than Presley" - his showbusiness connections worked conclusively in their favour. Part of a London circle that included Lionel Bart and Alma Cogan, Epstein picked Alun Owen - well known for the play No Trams To Lime Street - to write the script for A Hard Day's Night, an inspiration for a whole generation of rock groups and still one of the best pop films ever. But then Epstein was already on record as saying that he thought pop music was an "art form", and he totally supported the Beatles' instinctive attempts to make it so - that empathetic quality which makes him the doyen of pop managers to the present day.

By the time it was becoming absolutely clear that the Beatles were like no other pop group, success had brought the problems of over-expansion. "He found it impossible to delegate all the time that I knew him," says Taylor. With this increasing pressure came crippling anxiety: as Epstein states in A Cellarful Of Noise, "When a disc goes badly or a business venture fails, I am the one that suffers most, for I hold myself responsible. It isn't the money that worries me; it's the failure."

"Brian was obsessed with controlling a situation," says his US attorney and close friend Nat Weiss, who met him in summer 1964. "Anything done outside his area of control brought a tirade of abuse. I think the image of Brian as a sort of very soft, sensitive person is not the case. He was very strong-willed. I remember one occasion when John Lennon refused to do an interview during a tour and Brian went nose to nose with him. He took his tie and said: 'John you're soft', and stared him down. And John backed away."

In the run-up to a famous death, it is possible to see signs of impending doom everywhere. Yet in Epstein's case, the storyline is finely balanced right up until the final act. "Brian was a man of many moods," says Weiss. "He was a very multi-faceted person. With the advantage of looking back 30 years now, I would say that he certainly had all the symptoms of someone who was manic depressive." This emotional roller-coaster was slowly exacerbated by the use of prescription and illegal drugs: principally amphetamines and barbiturates, doled out by doctors ignorant of or careless about their dangers.

By late 1966, several factors had put Epstein into a downward spiral. The Beatles were maturing and, after their decision to stop touring, had far less need of protection. The Seltaeb Beatles merchandising deal had gone horribly wrong and was dragging through the courts. His close friend Alma Cogan had died of cancer in October. And Epstein's one personal relationship, with a young bisexual called Dizz Gillespie, had ended in robbery and blackmail. "He began to feel like a liberated person but he was never able to sustain a long-term relationship," says Weiss. "He'd become depressed by the fact that he'd believe it was not him they wanted, but who he was."

Despite a suicide attempt in autumn 1966, Epstein remained positive and forward-looking. His musical interests were still acute: he boosted the Who, Cream, and Jimi Hendrix to Murray the K (a New York DJ) in early 1967, when all three were little known in the US. Friends disagree about its effect, but there is a case for saying that he found LSD - which he publicly admitted taking in June 1967 - beneficial. He was worried whether the Beatles would re-sign with him when his contract came up in September 1967 but, according to McCartney, "there was no question in our minds that we would stay with Brian. We didn't want another manager."

Epstein died alone in his bedroom at Chapel Street, Mayfair, on August 27, 1967, one month after the Sexual Offences Act partially decriminalised homosexuality, and one month after the death of his father, Harry. There is no reason to doubt the verdict of the inquest: "poisoning by Carbrital, caused by an incautious self-overdose". Little was known about the dangers of prescription drugs at that time: indeed, Epstein's is the forerunner of all those sixties drug deaths - when the limits of freedom were finally tested. It was a ghastly accident, the effects of which were immediate.

"It was a great loss to us and I know it really frightened us," says McCartney. "John got particularly frightened. I think he thought, 'Right, this is it. This is the end of the Beatles', and it kind of was. Brian's death opened the floodgates. It gave other people the possibility to come in, whereas before there had been no possibility. I think one or two of the other guys got quite enamoured with Allan Klein, but I never liked the idea, partly because I'd seen how Brian did it and no one else was going to stack up against Brian in my mind. No one would ever be able to do it as good because you couldn't have the flair, the panache, the wit, the intelligence that Brian had. They would just merely be money managers. Brian was far more than that."

* The Hours and Times

#Brian Epstein #Jon Savage #The Guardian #1998 #90s #newspaper

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deadcactuswalking · 3 years

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REVIEWING THE CHARTS: 29/05/2021 (Eurovision, BTS, Olivia Rodrigo, Galantis/David Guetta/Little Mix, Anne-Marie & Niall Horan)

What better way to celebrate the end of a week in which I have been consistently ill and surprisingly busy? Sixteen new arrivals, of course! Shoot me, but first, congratulate Olivia Rodrigo for her second #1 as “good 4 u” gets the album boost to overthrow “Body” this week. I can safely say I think it’ll be there for a while. Let’s just start REVIEWING THE CHARTS.

Rundown

Sixteen new arrivals and therefore, kind of a bloodbath. Why are there sixteen new arrivals? We’ll get to it. Other than six new arrivals from last week, we have a couple other drop-outs, the notable of which being those that spent five or more weeks in the UK Top 75 – which I cover – or those that peaked in the top 40. Therefore, those include, rather ironically on Olivia Rodrigo’s album week, former #1 “drivers license” (only dropping out because of a silly UK chart rule that only allows three songs per lead artist on the chart), as well as “Don’t Play” by Anne-Marie, KSI and Digital Farm Animals, “Another Love” by Tom Odell, “Calling My Phone” by Lil Tjay and 6LACK, “Heartbreak Anniversary” by Giveon, “Tonight” by Ghost Killer Track and D-Block Europe featuring OBOY and “Miss the Rage” by Trippie Redd and Playboi Carti. I’m not complaining about most of this, sorry, Giveon.

We have no returning entries – thankfully – so instead we can just focus on notable falls and climbers. I guess we’ll start with notable losses, songs that dropped five or more spots from their placement last week, and of course we do have a few of them at least as a result of, say it with me, sixteen new arrivals. The first few of these are all harsh drops because of ACR, which happened to coincide with the rest of the chaos, including “Little Bit of Love” by Tom Grennan at #24, “BED” by Joel Corry, David Guetta and RAYE at #25, “Friday” (Dopamine Re-Edit) by Riton and Nightcrawlers featuring Musafa & Hypeman at #26, “Peaches” by Justin Bieber featuring Daniel Caesar and Giveon at #29 and “Let’s Go Home Together” by Ella Henderson and Tom Grennan at #33. We also have the losses for J. Cole staying surprisingly slim with “My Life” featuring 21 Savage and Morray at #27, “Pride is the Devil” featuring Lil Baby at #28 and “Amari” at #35. The rest are mostly just expected continuous fallers, like “Wellerman” by Nathan Evans and remixed by 220 KID and Billen Ted at #44, “Nice to Meet Ya” by Wes Nelson and Yxng Bane at #46, “Your Love (9PM)” by ATB, Topic and A7S at #50, “Marea (We’ve Lost Dancing)” by Fred again.. and the Blessed Madonna at #51, “Ferrari Horses” by D-Block Europe featuring RAYE at #53, “Heat Waves” by Glass Animals at #57, “Seeing Green” by Nicki Minaj, Drake and Lil Wayne at #58 off of the debut, “All You Ever Wanted” by Rag’n’Bone Man at #61, “Martin & Gina” by Polo G at #63, “Leave the Door Open” by Silk Sonic at #64, “My Head & My Heart” by Ava Max at #65, Travis Scott’s remix of HVME’s remix of Travis Scott’s “Goosebumps” at #67, “Addicted” by Jorja Smith at #68, “Beautiful Mistakes” by Maroon 5 and Megan Thee Stallion at #70, “Sunshine (The Light)” by Fat Joe, DJ Khaled and Amorphous at #73, “Someone You Loved” by Lewis Capaldi at #74 and finally “Believe Me” by Navos at #75. Phew.

Now what’s interesting is that we have nearly just as many gains, and they’re pretty unique, big surges in most cases, starting with “Cover Me in Sunshine” by P!nk and Willow Sage Heart at #52 thanks to the album boost that also prompted P!nk’s “All I Know So Far” to creep into the top 40 at #39, “Build a Bitch” by Bella Poarch at #32 off of the debut, “Starstruck” by Years & Years at #31 thanks to a bizarrely uncredited Kylie Minogue remix, “Little More Love” by AJ Tracey at #21, “Didn’t Know” by Tom Zanetti at #20, “Higher Power” by Coldplay at #19, “Black Hole” by Griff at #18, Majestic’s remix of Boney M.’s “Rasputin” at #16, “Good Without” by Mimi Webb soaring into the top 10 and hence becoming her first at #10, and Olivia Rodrigo getting her third thanks to the album boost as “deja vu” is at #4. I think that’s more than enough that needs to be said about music that was already on the chart last week, so welcome back to the part of this series where I get either increasingly frustrated or exhausted every time I have to list another song.

NEW ARRIVALS

#72 – “Life Goes On” – PS1 featuring Alex Hosking

Produced by PS1 and Mark Alston

So, what better way to start sixteen new arrivals? A generic piano-house club track, of course. PS1 is a New York DJ and for this track with a 90s-esque piano and synth melody, bassy drop and tight, bland percussion as well as oddly-mixed anonymous female vocals made to sound robotic regardless of genuine emotive performance, he’s enlisted Australian singer Alex Hosking as well as co-songwriting from hit-makers GOODBOYS, both of which make remarkably little difference to the fact that despite being a faux-inspirational club track, this song is incredibly joyless and flailing in as pathetic and one-note of a fashion as possible. Yes, that is one exhaustive sentence chugging on as long as possible, but there’s no better way to parallel this disposable garbage than that.

#71 – “What a Time” – Julia Michaels featuring Niall Horan

Produced by Ian Kirkpatrick and RKCB

Niall Horan coincidentally has two unrelated female-male duets debuting with him in this week. Thankfully, Julia Michaels only has the one track debuting, and for the love of God, I can’t even figure out why she has the one, as this is a track from a 2019 EP that flew massively under every radar except seemingly mine as whilst I have listened to this EP, I cannot remember for the life of me liking any of it besides “Anxiety”, which makes sense since Michaels is at best an uninteresting songwriter and at worst an insufferable vocal presence. Regardless, I’m going to assume the surge is due to TikTok or some kind of residual Niall Horan hype, whatever there is of that, and look at this song two years after the fact. Well, for what it’s worth, I appreciate the vaguely folkish guitar riff, even if it’s going to be drowned out immensely by Michaels’ approach to vocal takes, which is to put as little effort into that first take and then multi-track enough for it to sound listenable, particularly on that bizarrely unfitting chorus in which reminiscing on a wonderful, intimate time with your partner is demonstrated by rote piano chords, an awkward string swell and distant, reverb-drenched incoherency on the vocals. I guess I do like the switch in the final chorus as she changes “what a time” to “what a lie” to emphasise the bitterness of that break-up, but I don’t think that bitterness has to soak the entire master because this song is dripping in apathy that I just don’t have any time for personally in my pop power ballads. Wait, Niall Horan was on this song?

Eurovision Song Contest 2021

Whilst I may not do a special episode on this blog for the Eurovision Song Contest, I’d be lying if I didn’t confess to watching and enjoying it every year. This year’s, the first since 2019 for obvious reasons, was hosted in Rotterdam in the Netherlands and was won by an Italian rock band, with the United Kingdom infamously receiving zero points yet somehow more applause than Israel’s performance. Telling. It’s not all politics though, obviously: the reason songs win is not just the lighting, stage presence, vocal performance or grandiosity, but rather the songs themselves, or at least ostensibly so. The winner this year didn’t have the best of any of those factors in my opinion – no, not even the politics – so it’s clearly about a mixture of this success criteria. This year had some particularly good songs and the most consistency out of Eurovision in a while, naturally leading to quite a few new arrivals, also factored in by the charts being weak, so we essentially get an album bomb. Let’s pile up every new arrival related to Eurovision and talk somewhat more briefly about each song, starting with...

#66 – “Dark Side” – Blind Channel

Representing: FINLAND

The Finnish entry this year is one of two heavy rock entries, both of which charted, and this is a genre represented by about one country annually. There’s always a Gothic-influenced or industrial-esque band in the shortlist or national finals if not the semis and international final, but it doesn’t stop them from being some of the most interesting Eurovision contesters. It’s in English and came sixth with 301 points. Is it any good? Well, it’s far from bad with that pumping electronic groove before it’s crushed by metallic, distorted and rather ugly guitars that remind me of, if anything, scene-era nu metal and crunkcore, especially due to the clean and growling vocal dynamic. The song is still anthemic as all hell and if we ignore the dog barking and stuttering vocals, as well as the fact that these vocalists don’t have that much grit to their performance, we can appreciate the clamouring rock track this is, and I’d be lying if I said that final chorus isn’t pretty epic. Next!

#62 – “Voilá” – Barbara Pravi

Representing: FRANCE

The French entry this year is one my staunchly Italian nationalist online friend immediately had a distaste for, and as someone with British citizenship, I am also legally obliged to give this Worst of the Week. Sorry, Barbara but traditions are traditions. It’s in her native French and came second overall with 499 points. Is it any good? Well, like many French entries and French pop songs in general, it’s in a chanson style that adapts very well to the modern western art-pop sound, as Pravi’s cooing vocals are at full focus in the mix as they skate around more subtle pianos, wonderfully elegant strings and this wistful tone that may or may not make sense for the content. What? I’m not learning a word of French past what was grained into me during primary school. Overall, I think this is a pretty great song with a lot of that almost Bjork-esque swell especially in Pravi’s vocal performance that I think makes for a pretty excellent listen, especially by the time that abrupt finish hits. I’d probably prefer it being a bit less minimal and scattered so the hook hits harder but overall this is one of the best Eurovision entries this year. However, she is French so, next!

#59 – “SHUM” – Go_A

Representing: UKRAINE

The Ukrainian entry, always successful enough to get to the finals, was particularly hyped up prior due to its... eccentricity and ended up in fifth place with 364 points. It’s in their native Ukrainian so they might as well be garbling acid both verbally and as a written text, so I guess I have to judge it on the fact that this is pretty bonkers, with a charismatic and energetic vocal performance that yells over triumphant bassy horns perfectly blended with the 80s bass synths but not so much with those chirping flutes that, whilst cool on paper, kind of just give me a headache when faced against this thumping dance beat that remains decidedly strained for most of its runtime, and annoyingly so as it means the song never has that cathartic of a release, at least to me, but what drop it has ends up deconstructed and janky in something that might fit on PC Music but I’m not sure it does on Ukrainian Eurovision. This has something there, but I’m not into it. Sorry.

#47 – “Embers” – James Newman

REPRESENTING: United Kingdom

A catastrophic loss is British culture at Eurovision, and it’s not the first time in this century that we’ve gotten the infamous null points. James happens to be related to the more noteworthy John Newman, but that didn’t avoid a “nil points catastrophe”, coined by Jochan Embley, who reviewed the song for the Evening Standard and is now set in stone as an utter fool as his quote predicting that not to be the case this year is now forever preserved on the Wikipedia page for this very song. Nice one, Embley. We finished at twenty-sixth and Newman should honestly be glad this embarrassment is charting. The worst part of this whole ordeal is that the song’s actually fine and definitely representative of British pop music with its 90s-esque piano, bassy drop and anonymous vocal performance – if any of that sounds familiar – and I do love the plastic brass added here for the sake of bombast. It’s nothing interesting, and a tad too long considering how little it does with its musical premise, but it’s not worse than half of any given Eurovision. Maybe next year we submit a UK drill song, I’m sure that’ll get the people going. Tion Wayne, do you want to take a flight to Italy in 2022? Maybe bring Young Adz here while you’re at it; that could truly be a fascinatingly out of place Eurovision entry but at least one of these countries – probably Russia – would vote for it. As for now, at least this was funny to see absolutely bomb, and Graham Norton become increasingly hopeless for its success as the night went on.

#43 – “10 Years” – Daoi Freyr

REPRESENTING: Iceland

One part of this guy’s backing band tested positive for COVID-19 so they had to isolate and just show the dress rehearsal again but it didn’t stop them from charting and delivering a pretty damn unique entry, as Iceland is known for doing nowadays. It’s all in English and finished in fourth place with 378 points, and is it any good? Well, for one of the whitest concepts in television, this is the whitest song of this year’s entries, starting with some gentle violins before abruptly careening straight into this Daoi Freyr guy monotonously droning over bass-heavy nu-disco straight out of the 2000s with a level of irony balancing out whatever sincerity there is in the quasi-R&B breakdown, and, you know, it’s fun, at least? I do think the stage performance is remarkably more interesting than this funktronica mess in the studio, but this is catchy and inoffensive, two good ways to get people to care about your song in Eurovision, so it makes sense. Also, that chiptune synth-solo borderline saves this song, even in all its brevity.

#17 – “ZITTI E BUONI” – Maneskin

REPRESENTING: Italy

So third place didn’t chart – sorry, Switzerland – but we do obviously get the winner charting as high as the top 20. The chart’s weak and the lead singer’s hot and probably does cocaine – it’s a recipe for success, especially when they probably have mafia connections and can threaten or buy their way into the charts. Unrealistic and possibly xenophobic stereotypes aside, this is the Italian entry and whilst I was personally gunning for Portugal, who came twelfth, I can see how this gathered 524 points, even if they had to censor the lyrics for the sake of the contest, not that I can tell because I do not know a lick of Italian. Sorry, Ignacio. Anyway, this song kicks ass and rather disrespectfully at that, as the lead singer breathily sings over garage rock-esque guitar licks and some pretty manic drumming that delivers not only a catchy hook but an undeniable groove, assisted by some slick rapping that comes out of the blue in the second verse and honestly fits the song – and the singer – a lot better than it has any right to. Congratulations, Italy – you’ll be paying out the ass for the next contest. Ciao!

Back to your regularly scheduled programming...

Well, that got a lot out of the way. Not all of it, though.

#60 – “Topshottas Freestyle” – Potter Payper

Produced by Chucks

Potter Payper is basically some guy from Barking, East London, and that’s all you need to sign a record deal with the same label that has Stormzy on payroll so that’s why he’s here. With that said, there’s something deeper here, or at least in the first few lines of this singular verse – without a chorus – in which Potter Payper narrates a street lifestyle, far too common for young working-class British men, retelling what is probably his truth about the consequences of ignoring motherly advices and finding yourself in a situation surrounded by gang violence, drug trafficking and all the paranoia that comes with it. Of course, he then brags about his wordplay, gunplay and fashion, and the rest of the verse just feels aimless with nothing exactly restraining the meandering checklist of clichés, and zilch returning it back to what I thought was going to be the point of the song. I guess this trap beat is okay but this same acoustic guitar and oddly-mastered bass is so common and uninteresting that I find it hard to care. I don’t have an issue with British music being Americanised as that’s just the result of musical evolution and the sharing of culture, but when the only way you can tell this isn’t from the States is the accent does make me question why this is charting amongst Dave and AJ Tracey instead of Lil Baby and Gunna.

#56 – “GANG GANG” – Polo G and Lil Wayne

Produced by Angelo Ferraro

Polo G, after just having the biggest hit of his career with the US #1 hit “RAPSTAR”, follows it up with a Lil Wayne collaboration and thanks to a busy and just misguided release date and timing, it makes a lot less noise than it should. It absolutely deserves that level of attention too, with its chopped-up borderline ambient melody that creates a perfect foundation for this high-energy bass-heavy trap beat as well as Polo G delivering a lot more energy than on “RAPSTAR” (to the point where I think that’s the reason why his actually interesting songs don’t do as well). The chorus has a pretty great melodic switch-up by the end and whilst the flows are pretty rote, it’s hard to say they aren’t smoothly delivering all of the flexing and gunplay pretty typical of Polo G, and if anything that’s what it’s missing: an extra layer of depth, not that I care of course, because Lil Wayne’s on it. Wayne has been astonishingly great on features recently and this is one of his most impressive features to the point where I could barely write about it on first listen, with some of his slickest flow switches ever and whilst the content doesn’t get any more interesting than pouring his heart out for his lean, his pure charisma outshines anyone who could have been on this track and this means this ends up pretty excellent in terms of 2020s trap-rap. I don’t know when that Polo G album is coming but I hope it has more of this. Also, for the love of God, Wayne, keep this energy up for the next album. I’m begging you.

#42 – “SUN GOES DOWN” – Lil Nas X

Produced by Roy Lenzo, Omar Fedi and Take a Daytrip

As his follow up to “MONTERO”, we have a new, decidedly less sexual Lil Nas X hit debuting again surprisingly low on the chart considering the last single’s success, finally delivering in the musical department as for me, there’s a constant conflict between wanting to like Lil Nas as a character, performer and personality rather than actually enjoying any of the guy’s music. Last time I talked about Lil Nas, I did bring up the Pitchfork album review that questioned if he really liked music and whilst it’s funny, I do see how Lil Nas could have perhaps taken Pitchfork to heart as a result as he practically explains his love of popular music as a way for him to feel like he belonged in a community, which is especially meaningful for a man constantly left alienated because of his own mental health issues as a teenager and struggling to come to terms with his homosexuality, to the point of suicidal thoughts. I just love how the verse ends on a happy note where makes the leap of faith to come out and how now he’s proud of himself, he wants to make sure his fans are proud of him since they’re the people who got him there. For me, those last lines recontextualise the chorus as becoming less about contemplating death but more about ascending to a happier place and rejecting all your struggles that you’ve overcome. It helps that this is all sang pretty soulfully over an almost emo guitar melody with some basic flows but gorgeous multi-tracked vocal melodies accentuated by strings that elevate this song even higher, even if it seems underdeveloped. Sure, it doesn’t have that second verse, but does a victory lap need a re-over?

#38 – “Mask” – Dream

Produced by Perish Beats and Banrisk

Nope.

#22 – “Our Song” – Anne-Marie and Niall Horan

Produced by TMS

Okay, so this is a duet where two ex-lovers – only in the song – attempt to get over each other but end up hearing a song they held special to their relationship and all of the memories and pain comes flooding back. Without the youthful exuberance of Taylor Swift’s song of the same name, this duet should carry some bitterness and resentment but mostly capture a hesitant nostalgia... and despite being oddly Niall Horan-dominated, I guess it does that pretty effectively, or at least would if Niall wasn’t crushed by a misshapen trap beat that drowns this pathetically fluttering guitar loop into a mush that not even Anne-Marie can over-sell. Everything here is so utterly basic that it kind of screws itself over by trying for any energy or passion, and therefore kind of just doesn’t. I’m glad.

#9 – “Heartbreak Anthem” – Galantis, David Guetta and Little Mix

Produced by Bloodshy, Henrik Jonback, David Saint Fleur, Thom Bridges, David Guetta, Mike Hawkins, SONDR and Johnny Goldstein

It really speaks to the power of Little Mix that even with only three members and only one of them not expecting a child, they can bring Galantis back of all people. Although given that Galantis is already a duo, I fail to see why David Guetta needs to be here, and the same can go for any of the other seven credited producers of this song, which actually only includes one half of Galantis! I question if a song ever needs that many, despite the fact that in reality they probably contributed zilch to the song each, just enough to get a pay check. None of that should matter, however, if the song isn’t good and I’ll admit this is far from the worst that any of these guys have delivered, with a string melody and swell not unlike 2015-era house Galantis themselves made, and vocal deliveries from the girls that sound like they were located in vastly different locations from each other (to the point where anyone harmonising with Perrie sounds really awkward regardless of how many vocal manipulation effects you can put on them). For seven producers, that’s inexcusable, but as a song, it’s just a shallow post-break-up song that kind of feels like a dig towards Jesy if anything (although I hope it isn’t). I’m not a fan – I never was going to be – but it works for what it is as this colourful house jam, and not much else. This is Galantis’ first top 10 since 2016, by the way. Yeah, Little Mix are that big.

#7 – “traitor” – Olivia Rodrigo

Produced by Dan Nigro

It couldn’t have been “brutal”? Or “hope ur ok”? Okay, well, if we’re going to have the dullest track on the album bar one I guess we’ll go with the one that follows the “drivers license” formula to a T but without as much passion in the vocals, without as much interesting songwriting quirks and with a whole lot of rote fluff removed far from any indie-girl influence that undercuts what is essentially a teen-pop product. I’m not going to pretend I cannot get caught up in melodrama and embrace that, but this is a slog of a ballad with an almost sing-song, condescending vocal melody in that chorus, multi-tracked and studio-produced to rid her of any of that natural rasp she has when singing live. The song is about being annoyed by an ex finding someone new and the more toxic thoughts that come with being the ex-girlfriend in that situation, but with decidedly low stakes this time around that just make her more unlikeable than relatable. I’m sorry, I didn’t think that album was half-bad at all, but please don’t make this the post-release hit.

#3 – “Butter” – BTS

Produced by Ron Perry, Rob Grimaldi and Stephen Kirk

See, I value my personal information, and I don’t know about you but I’m as scared of these guys as I am Nicki Minaj stans, or Minecraft YouTuber stans, or serial killers, so whilst I doubt my platform is extensive enough to reach that level, I also know that these people are so online that they could easily find me somehow somewhere. With that said, just to clarify, when I say I wish I could “Nope” myself out of this one like I did with Dream because I have consistently little to say about this band, it’s not because I in any way dislike BTS or the band members within, or their record label that manages them and many other K-pop bands which I also do not dislike, or, because I’ve seen this happen, East Asians in general. Is that enough stalling to just say I don’t care about this basic pop fluff? When BTS are in Korean, their lyrics aren’t embarrassing and their production tends to be more experimental or at least catchier, more interesting. I like a fair few Korean BTS songs as a result but I just do not see the appeal in making another stiff, cleanly-produced 80s-esque funk-pop song with some chiptune synths that are admittedly kinda cool other than getting on US radio. There’s some interplay between the boys here but it just leads to a pretty homogenised track where none of them have enough personality to shine through, not even SUGA and RM on the tacked-on rap verse that so awkwardly ends. The synth solo sounds perfectly out of an era of dated 80s synths that I’m not sure anyone other than Bruno Mars actually had nostalgia for, and not even some pretty vocoder can save it. The writing is too clumsy, the production’s not equipped to handle it and there’s not much to speak of in terms of performance. I fear for my life when I say it but I think this is actually pretty bad.

Conclusion

Okay, so, we’re finally finished with this week and God, I’m glad, as there’s not that much quality here to speak of, although what is here is here in droves, so Best of the Week gladly goes to Polo G and Lil Wayne for “GANG GANG”, with “Sun Goes Down” by Lil Nas X following closely behind as an Honourable Mention. In terms of Worst of the Week, it doesn’t actually go to they who shall not or he who should not be named, instead going to the pathetic “Your Song” by Anne-Marie and Niall Horan, with a Dishonourable Mention going to BTS for “Butter”. It’s just “Dynamite” again but with considerably less reason to exist. Here’s this week’s top 10:

If I make it to next week, who knows what’s coming? This is a slower week – hopefully – and I don’t think black midi will chart, though it’d be comical, so I’ll hold off on predictions and just thank you for reading. See you next week!

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nickireadstfc · 7 years

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The Foxhole Court, Chapter 8 – The Hangover: Neil Josten Edition

In which Neil has a hangover that could kill a man, attempts to actually kill a few men (read: the monsters), Wymack is still the best person alive, and Andreil engage in some Totally Straight Bro Time™.

Sounds good? Then it’s time for Nicki to read The Foxhole Court.

So, last chapter was a train wreck. I’ve had lots of you coming up to me trying to restore Andrew’s honour and telling me it wasn’t all his fault, but still. The monsters have lost some serious sympathy points in my books.

(I’ve also been told it gets worse, which, might I add, is not reassuring what the hell.)

Let’s get crackin’ and see if our boy Neil is still alive.

As soon as Neil could breathe again, he twisted and shoved Nicky as hard as he could. He was too sick and weak to push Nicky off the other side of the bed, but the boots he was still wearing would leave bruises on Nicky’s arms and chest.

Alive and kicking, pun absolutely intended.

Also, GOOD. Hit that fucker.

My initial love for Nicky is going through a serious dilemma right now, by the way. On one hand, he’s still the comic relief, which I love, he’s funny and loud and a much-needed ray of sunshine in this otherwise pretty depressing monster squad. On the other hand, he does not seem to understand consent, which goes against every principle I have.

He might have to settle as the Problematic Fave. We’ll see.

“Hey, hey,” Nicky said, trying to deflect him. “It’s fine. Ouch! Relax, will you?”

“Don’t you fucking touch me,” Neil said savagely.

I have a strong feeling Neil says everything savagely. That’s like saying Andrew said something murderously, Seth said something angrily, or Renee said something gently and glitter rained down from the sky, the sun bursts through the clouds and angels sang of everything good in this world.

It’s like, duh, that’s how they function.

“He’s awake?” someone asked from the door.

Neil snatched the alarm clock up and hurled it at the new arrival, who ducked out of the way just in time.

Attempted Kill Count: II.

Aaron and Nicky try to make him feel better by offering him water and food, and carrying him since he can hardly stand due to his Massive Cracker Dust Hangover, an act of niceness that I am totally not buying.

You drug him and were planning to do God knows what with him if he hadn’t had himself knocked out in time, and now you’re trying to play good Samaritan? Y’all can exit stage left.

“Drink up,” Nicky said. “You’ll need all the water you can get today. Crackers’ll dehydrate you like nobody’s business.”

Neil answered by upending his glass on the floor.

“That’s mature,” Aaron said.

Neil threw the glass at him.

Attempted Kill Count: III. Neil is on a roll today.

Neil, smart runaway that he is, does not buy the monsters’ Samaritan act either and instead does what I’d advised Nicky and Aaron to do: Exit stage left, that is to say, he gets the fuck out of there.

As soon as he’s in the vicinity of a payphone, he calls Matt and the other not-entirely insane people on this team, which is pretty much the only sensible thing to do in this kind of fuckery.

“I’m in Columbia with Andrew.“

“You’re – what?” Matt went from half-asleep to wide awake in a heartbeat. The alarm in his voice only made Neil feel worse. “Jesus, Neil, what the hell did you do that for? Did he–“ Matt aborted that and asked again, “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” Neil lied.

The fact that this is alarming news to Matt and the gang is fucking alarming news to me. Please don’t tell me this is what happened to Matt last year. Please.

Also, Neil “I’m fine” Josten strikes again.

I am instantly proven right as we find out that yes, this is exactly what happened to Matt last year. Poor Billie Joe. You just rose so much in my sympathy ranks. <3

Neil truck-hitchhikes home which we are skipping because it is, frankly, it’s not that interesting. However, as he gets home, it is time for my undisputed fave to appear again:

Neil wasn’t quite ready to face Andrew yet and he didn’t want to deal with his teammates’ curiosity over his prolonged absence, so he went to Wymack’s apartment instead.

Clearly, Wymack is the solution to everything. Glad my boy Neil and I are on the same page here.

“You should have called me,” Wymack said. “Me or Abby or any of the upperclassmen. All you had to do was say you didn’t want to stay with Andrew. Any of us would have come and gotten you.”

Neil stared at him, to startled to respond.

Hello, and welcome to our popular show Neil Doesn’t Realize People Actually Care About Him, episode 1 of a billion.

Wymack apparently has some strong feelings about Andrew and Neil not killing each other entirely, which is why he calls down Andrew for some Quality Bro Time™ with his bf Neil – in typical Wymack-y manner.

Neil heard [Wymack’s] furious voice loud and clear.

“You have five seconds to get your retarded psycho ass to my apartment! You even think about telling me no and I swear to god I’ll throw Kevin’s contract down a garbage disposal.”

My dude, maybe think twice about using the R-word. Otherwise, what level of i c o n i c. #dicksoutforwymack

Andrew, miraculously, follows that kind invitation instantly, and this is where stuff gets good.

“Have a nice stroll?” he asked, interrupting Wymack’s tirade.

Neil returned his cold stare with a heated “Fuck you.”

Wymack snapped his fingers in front of Andrew’s face, trying to get Andrew to look at him instead of Neil.

Tough luck, buddy, have fun prying those two apart. The fuckers even switch to goddamned German to have some private one-on-one time, ahem.

Pity Neil has to reveal his secret language superpowers so early in the game, though. I was waiting for the epic moment where Neil chimes into a Kevin/Andrew/Nicky conversation in fluent German just to deliver a savage burn.

“How about I start with your parents?”

“Good luck,” Neil said, feeling cold all over. “They’re dead.”

“Did you kill them?”

He said it so casually, like he was asking for the time, that Neil could only stare at him for a minute. (…) Then he remembered who he was talking to and asked, “Did you kill yours?”

What the fuck, you guys. How is this even a conversation they’re having. Who on earth just asks stuff like that.

The twins didn’t know who their father was, and only Aaron grew up with their biological mother. Andrew was surrendered to foster care when he was just a few days old.

Oh. In hindsight, this explains why Andrew referred to their mother as “Aaron’s mother” before, but more importantly: What the fuck, why.

Who does that to a child, heck, who does that to a baby. Surely it’s gotta be healthier for twins to stay with each other? What the hell, Minyards.

Also, how did they pick which twin to keep and which one to give away? Like, “oh, this one looks much nicer, this one looks less like it wants to murder you as soon as you threaten its favourite rattle, better take this one and chuck the other one in the realms of Out Of Sight, Out Of Mind”.

What the actual why.

Did I say this was where stuff got good? We’re not done yet, ho boy. This is where stuff gets really good:

“I didn’t kill my parents,” Neil said. (…) “Riko’s family did.”

OH SHIT OH SHIT HE’S TELLING HIM STUFF OH SHITTTTTTTTTTTT.

What follows may be the first real, pure, top-of-the-line Andreil scene we get to witness. Granted, Neil only gives Andrew the half-truth, leaving out some key details, but essentially, he pours his heart out in front of him. And I don’t only mean the whole factual side of things, but also stuff like “I’m too jealous of Kevin to stay away from him” and “He’s got you at his back telling him everything’s going to be okay” which I wish I’d made up as examples except those are actual quotes from the book.

And, might I add, not only is he confessing that stuff to one of his mortal enemies right now, he is also confessing that stuff for the first time ever to anyone at all.

I’m dead.

Andrew reached up and forcibly uncurled Neil’s fingers from his mouth. He pushed Neil’s hand out of the way and stared Neil down with nothing between them. Neil didn’t understand the look on his face. There was no censure over Neil’s crooked parents or pity for their deaths, no triumph over having backed Neil into admitting so much, and no obvious scepticism for such an outlandish story. Whatever this look was, it was dark and intense enough to swallow Neil whole.

“Let me stay,” Neil said quietly. “I’m not ready to give this up yet.”

Did I say I was dead? I just got fucking reanimated, lived a brief period of happiness, and died again.

WHAT LEVEL OF GAY SHIT. I know it gets even better later, [frieza voice] this isn’t even their final form, but I can’t help but be happy at the first glimpses of canon Andreil.

I am LIVING.

Maybe Andrew’s night out in Columbia had been awful, and maybe he’d never want to say these things out loud, but having the air cleared between him and Andrew to some degree took an enormous weight of his chest.

Fsshgshsgdsjgjscjjs.

My sad baby boy Neil gets some peace and relief and breathing room I cannot believe.

Andrew didn’t look at Wymack. “Neil wants to come with me.”

A day ago, those words might have been an order or a threat, but today Neil heard only truth. He’d chosen the Foxes. He’d chosen to trust Andrew, whatever that meant and whatever consequences it brought down the road. There was no reason or need to hide behind Wymack now.

Are y’all seeing what I’m seeing………… are those…….. first traces of friendship and peace……….. w h a t

As much friendship and peace as you can get with the messed-up murder maniac, at least.

I’m so happy, you guys.

This does not make up for the problems of last chapter (especially my boy Nicky and I still have a bone to pick), but it makes me tentatively look towards an eventually positive future for our angry babies.

Hope was a dangerous, disquieting thing, but he thought perhaps he liked it.

Couldn’t have said it better.

#tfc #the foxhole court #the raven king #the kings men #nora sakavic #nicki reads tfc #it's the return of dicksoutforwymack!!#dicksoutforwymack #edit: edited the parts where I used the m word as I realized it was Not Fucking Okay

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