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sunnydaleherald · 2 years

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The Sunnydale Herald Newsletter, Sunday, March 6

Buffy: Macho, macho, man! I want to be a macho man. Macho... Oh, hey, juice! Mm... Quality juice. Not from concentrate!

~~Witch~~

[Drabbles & Short Fiction]

Distraction (Buffy/Faith, T) by Anonymous

A Visit (Buffy/Angel, E) by Anonymous

Fool in the Rain, (Jenny/Giles, T) by Anonymous

Homecoming (Buffy/Angel/Faith, E) by Anonymous

Little Dreams (Buffy/Spike, G) by TheSigyn

When I Dreamed of Him (Buffy/Spike, T) by TheSigyn

Dominoes (Crossover with Torchwood, G) by TheSigyn

Bad Idea (Buffy/Angelus, T) by angelus2hot

In A Reflections is the Same Lie (Buffy/Faith, Buffy/Angel, T) by TTSoMean

The Night He Saved Me (Buffy/Spike, PG) by MissXGingerXNinja

Never Enough (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by Jim Wicked

Episode 128- Him (T) by Buffy Poetry

[Chaptered Fiction]

Moonshot, Chapter 1 (Buffy/Faith, E) by aliceinwonderbra

Love Can Bring Down The Curtain, Chapter 5 (Giles/Ethan Rayne, T) by InMyOwnHeadItGoesLikeThis

Teenage Dirtbag, Chapter 1 (Buffy/Giles, M) by Janis70

Bait & Switch, Chapter 1 (Buffy/Spike, M) by JaneRemmington

A Gutted World, Chapter 5 (Xander, Faith, Giles, K) by Spooksdarkhero

The Sun, Chapter 11 (Willow/Tara, T) by heckate

Dawn of the Future, Chapter 4 (Dawn/Faith, T) by Brenna's Urbangirl Projects

Mortal Allies Series, Episode 5: War and Roses, Chapter 2 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by Passion4Spike

Bait & Switch, Chapter 1 (Buffy/Spike, R) by JaneRemmington

Spike and the Quest for the Gems of Amara, Chapter 10 (Buffy/Spike, PG) by the_big_bad

Benign, Chapter 1-8 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by Jim Wicked

Milkshakes and Motorcycles, Chapter 20 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by Grief Counseling

Closer adn Closer, Chapter 13 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by Grief Counseling

All Bottled Up, Chapter 3 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by honeygirl51885

who could ever leave me, darling – but who could stay? (you could stay), Chapter 7 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by MillennialCryBaby

Possessed, Chapter 2 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by Brooke724

Drabble Here, Drabble There, Chapter 76 (Multiple crossings, FR13) by zili

A Son's Love, Chapter 10 (Buffy/Spike, 13+) by Fancyflautist

[Images, Audio & Video]

Artwork:Digital Painting- OMWF (sfw) by savory_muffins

Manip:Season 1 Buffy (sfw) by summrsbuffy

Artwork:Buffy and Faith baseball hats (sfw) by space-sheep08

Fanart Thread:Bangel Fanart(sfw) by multiple authors

Video: Willow and Tara- Power (For Nathaniel) by BobbyMcGriffin

[Reviews & Recaps]

Still NOT OVER their DANCING - Angel Reaction - 1x13 - She by TheLexiCord

Everyone's Favorite Character Jesse | Buffy the Vampire Slayer 1x2 "The Harvest" REACTION AND REVIEW by HaaruteLIVE

Buffy the Vampire Slayer 3x21: Graduation Day: Part 1 Reaction!!! by PENNYWELL PRODUCTION

Buffy the Vampire Slayer 3x22: Graduation Day: Part 2 Reaction!!! by PENNYWELL PRODUCTION

Buffy 3x04- "Beauty and the Beasts" Reaction by DodoReactions

Buffy the Vampire Slayer 4x01: The Freshman Reaction!!! by PENNYWELL PRODUCTION

PODCAST: Dopplegangland by Buffy the Vampire Straya

[Fandom Discussions]

Did Anya forget being human? by gay-and-tiredaf

Trans potentials in fanfic by dumbass-de-lioncourt

30 Days of Buffy- Day 28 by theharshlightofday

30 Days of Buffy- Day 5 by frankierose

Buffy doesn't know how people see her by summrsbuffy

'Whats the sitch' by summrsbuffy

If Riley were Adam by jayciethings and legendofnora

Is Angel worth it? by jayciethings and legendofnora

Villainizing Faith by katkafe

Faith in S7 by maclayrightswarrior

Dawn and Spike by bakasara

S5 Buffy and Dawn by firelxdykatara and legendofnora

Favorite characters/episodes of season 1 by make-me-imagine

30 Days of Buffy- Day 6 by frankierose

Tara and Oz are similar by maclayrightswarrior

Angry about Darlas Death by chasingfictions

I like the episode 'Selfless' by ex-vengeancedemon

Xander shouldn't have told Dawn about Spike's actions by house-monster-fucker

Buffy now streaming free on Roku Channel by Buffy Summers

Favorite/Pinnacle Spuffy Moments by Plasma

Discussion of 3.15 "Consequences" by multiple authors

The Ballet (in) "Waiting in the Wings" is Wonderful, but a Little Problematic by BuffyNvrForgets

Fanfic Recommendations by multiple authors

Season 1: "It's (Maybe) Not Good But We Owe It Everything" by NikkolasKing and multiple authors

Something about "Into Every Generation" that I'm not a fan of (Spoilers) by multiple authors

Do you think Willow would have relapsed again after 'Chosen'? by multiple authors

I wish Willow had been the Buffy of witches by multiple authors

For men that claim to love Buffy... (The Girl in Question) by multiple authors

Unpopular Opinion? Tara was annoying. by multiple authors

In your opinion, who was the best love interest for Willow on the show? How do you rank them? Which were your favorites and which ones, if any were your least favorites? by multiple authors

I’m watching Angel for the first time and I find Cordelia and Connors relationship unsettling. Thoughts? by multiple authors

Poll: Battle of the Season Finales by LizCatherine

Poll: Battle of the Buffy One Shot Villains by Hot-Orange-2958

Poll: What’s your favorite “ Once More With Feeling “ Song ? by reah211

Poll: Spike’s Best AtS episodes by TigerJean

Poll: Favorite significant other of the main cast? by TigerJean

[Articles, Interviews, and Other News]

PUBLICATION: "Selfless" and Solitude via 25yearslater

PUBLICATION: Many Buffy Fans Never Watch an Essential Episode via Gamerant

Join the editor team :)

Submit a link to be included in the newsletter!

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apples-r-rubbish · 4 years

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Institute (13th Doctor x reader) Part 8 (FINAL)

Summary: Gallifrey. The end. Word count: 2.5k AN: Final part, thank so much for all the love and support on everything. I never expected this or anything remotely close to this. Thank you! feel free to stick around to see what I have coming next- got a few 11 things planned. Hope you enjoy -Leo x Warnings: Violence, death Tags: @penguinwithitsarseonfire @startrekkingaroundasgard

(PART 1) (PART 2) (PART 3) (PART 4) (PART 5) (PART 6) (PART 7) MASTERLIST

Gallifrey was warm. The air hung around you, hot and heavy. Everything was burning.

“You’re late,” The master growled “I looked into it you should’ve been here 3 hours ago,”

“The last time I checked I was still alive, nice try,” You smirked. He handcuffed you.

“Just so you don’t get any ideas, and because you dropped yourself off here, we’ve got a long walk. I can’t believe you screwed up your own execution” He pulled the vortex manipulator off your wrist and proceeded to stomp on it, severing your final lifeline. He grabbed you by the face, his rough fingers digging into your skin “I can’t wait to watch her face, as the light leaves your eyes,” He mumbled, dropping his hand suddenly, before yanking your arm, guiding you forward. The panic had then hit you. You were going to die and the Doctor was going to watch, you tried to pull against him, tried to run. Cursing and screaming. The Master’s grip only got tighter, you were crying in pain, trying desperately to pull away. Nothing was working.

“Look, you can make this easier for you, or harder,” He said, pulling out the Tissue Compression device. So you walked. It could have been hours or moments, time seemed to bend around you. There was a weird glowing patch ahead of you, “We’re going through there when we see her. I need to prove to her I’m serious and that you’re bait,”

“Why did you destroy it?” You asked, monotone, you were not allowing him to win.

“Nothing to with you, humans, want to stick their noses into everyone’s business,”

“I’m about to die, it’s not like I have anyone to tell,” You argued

“Do you expect sympathy? None of them were shown any, and they actually belonged here. More than you can say considering you’re a walking corpse,” He hissed “and shut up will you.”

Something moved behind the portal, and speaking could faintly be heard. Without warning you were pulled to your feet, and pushed into it. The ground on the other side of the portal was rock and you discovered that, by falling nearly face first into it. The Master followed behind you closely, pulling you back up aggressively by the shoulder.

“Now that was a good entrance, right? Right?” He nudged you as he spoke, trying desperately to gain a reaction from you“You should be afraid, everything is about to change,” He growled “Take my hand,”

“Never, give me back (Y/N),” She hissed

“Not happening. I could just kill her on the spot and drag you through the boundary kicking and screaming after killing all your other little humans too. She’s going to die anyway, why can’t it be here?” He threatened, his tone of voice surprisingly calm

“Ok, fine, I’ll come with you but you hurt anyone of them and I won’t hesitate. I’ll be back soon, don’t worry,”

“She won’t. Good luck, c’mon (Y/N),” He yanked your arm forward as the three of you crossed the boundary “Look upon my work Doctor, and despair,”

“Why did you do this? Why are you dragging (Y/N) into this? She doesn’t deserve it,” The Doctor questioned

“Not telling you,” He laughed “Well, I’ll tell you a little. Her death is a fixed point, and you’ve kept putting it off. I want to further the plans so to speak, keep everything ticking over. Also because I want to watch you suffer, for everything you’ve ever done,”

“If you so much as hurt her I’ll-”

The master cut her off “You’ll what? Kill me? Please. You couldn’t even hurt me when I tried to kill you on that plane. I’m your worst friend, your best enemy, she’s a human. She’ll die anyway.”

You just watched as they argued, you couldn’t run because you’d die faster, he’d just kill you from behind, you couldn’t stay because the master would kill you eventually so you just froze.You dared not cut into the conversation,you felt like child watching two adults fight and you were powerless to stop it. You went dizzy, the weight of the situation heavy again, The doctor went to steady you, “No! You’re not going anywhere near her. Citadel. now,”

The room was large, with various platforms around the room, You were dragged onto a smaller one, and the Doctor stepped onto a larger one, light beams curving around her. She hissed in pain, you went to run to her, you shin was met with a weighty kick. You fell to the ground, huffing.

“Aw, what a sweet moment that would have been. But I think it’s time we begin now,” He growled, you grabbed your neck aggressively pulling you to your feet “any final words?”

“I forgive you, you will blame yourself for this but I forgive you. Always and completely. I was bound to get caught up in this, the institute was never safe. I love you, don’t let this break you.” You spoke, directed all towards the Doctor.

“I do hate to break up a couple, but I have plans I’m afraid,” The Master smirked. You blinked. Reality slowed. There was pain. A sharp pain. An involuntary gasp. Pain. And so much blood. Pain. You fell to your knees first, then backwards. Pain. You couldn’t hear the screams of the Doctor or the laughs of the Master, only the fading heartbeat in your chest and shallow breaths.You could vaguely see her crying. Your vision blurred as you mumbled one final silent wish to the universe, ‘Keep her safe’.

You were gone. Another death on that distant planet.

Grey enveloped the Doctor. Ruth appeared in front of her.

“Oh great more traps and tricks. The matrix is deciding to mess with me again?” She huffed.

“You summoned me here, this isn’t the matrix,” Ruth replied “I understand it as much as you do.” Her voice was clear and not unkind when she spoke. “Where do you fit into this? Who are you? Are you my past? Or are you my future?”

“I don’t have the answers. Would it help you if I did? That doesn’t change who we are,” Ruth responded

“I mean yes it would-” She blinked. You now stood in front of her replacing Ruth,

“When have you ever been limited by who you were? When have you ever let it stop you?” She looked as if she’d been slapped, she simply wanted to memorise every detail of your face, before it faded and she had to come to terms with everything.

“I can’t talk. I'm tired. I want to sleep, the field is taking the energy out of me,” She said drifting slightly.

“Now’s not the time to be tired, old man. You know that. People have died, the city is burning, and you’ve left your friends,”

“I don’t know how to stop him,” She began, she wanted to walk towards you but she couldn’t the field holding her in place, “I've already lost you, who cares about the city? Who cares about anything else?”

“You can and will. Be who you always are, old man. Blow their minds. Be the Doctor,” You whispered “Think of me, from time to time though.” She remembered everything, meeting you, the institute, the cybermen, the trips to far flung planets, your smile, your friendships, your kindness. You.

“I love you, old man,” You pressed a final gentle kiss to her forehead. The field broke sending light everywhere.

The Doctor was awoken to her friends standing over her and asking if she was alright.

“Where is she? Where’s (Y/N)?” She asked her throat sore

“Doc, there’s no one else here? We figured the Master had taken her with him, if he hadn’t you know-” Graham responded panic creeping into his voice. She pulled herself to her feet quickly, the world merging into a mess of shapes. Your body had vanished. Time for a plan.

“Live great lives,” The Doctor said as she backed out of the TARDIS and ran down a corridor. There the master stood cyber timelords circled around him. “I definitely said no plus ones. Where is she?”

“What do you mean? I left her to rot. I thought it would nice to have a new world start with the blood of a human. A species you're so fond of, especially that one,” The master laughed “The cyberium lives in me now. I’ve won, broken you down”

“You think you've broken me? You'll have to try harder than that. You've given me a gift. Of myself. You think that could destroy me? You think that makes me lesser? It makes me more.” She hissed pulling out the detonator “I contain multitudes more than I ever thought or knew. You want me to be scared of it because you're scared of everything. But I am so much more than you. You took her from me and that’s where you’re wrong, I have nothing left to lose!” As she shouted, the master kneeled, pressing his head against the detonator “Do it, I want the universe to suffer because of you.”

The older man burst through the door, rambling about how he needed to do it and how she needed to go. She tried to argue and failed. The Doctor ran, stole a tardis and made it to safety. As she always did.

It had been a handful of years since your death. The doctor had dipped in and out of time stream, taking you on dates to relive your time together. She dared to not visit Ryan, Yaz and Graham, they’d ask and she wouldn’t have answers. She sat in the cold tardis, fiddling with the controls as she tended to do now. No one to ramble to other than her ship. Electricity fizzed once again in the air, you materialised near the entrance of the ship. The TARDIS seemed colder than usual, emptier.

“What? Are you doing here?” She asked clearly shocked to see you

“It dropped me off here- wait, damn, the ring,” You tapped the co-ordinates back into the vortex manipulator before disappearing and reappearing again in front of her.

“So I’m being haunted now, I just dropped you off home after Cinter - purple planet sky, massive moon,” She explained

“I knew that was the wrong order,” You laughed “Not haunted. Hasn’t happened yet, for me, still on my deathbed, running late, I think, the coordinates keep switching,”

“You’ll be fine. I’d prefer it if you were late, or even better, didn’t show up to it,”

“Where do I end up and who does it?”

“It’s on Gallifrey, I presume you can figure the coordinates out. I tried to stop him, I tried,”

“Shhh it’s ok” You held her in your arms pressing a kiss to her forehead, tears welling in both of your eyes

“I saw bits of it twice,” She explained, she was crying now, at the long past memories for her.

“You know it’s a fixed point, I don’t know why you had to go to it twice, that’s weird even for you,” You laughed trying to calm her down

“The TARDIS dropped me off there. Not my idea of fun. Fixed point your death, and she’s drawn to it for some reason, maybe to keep me out of trouble,”

“She was always fond of me, even then,” You laughed, fingers spread on the console, “you know what they say about grief, you need to see things from a different perspective,”

“What do you mean?”

“I think I’ve worked it out- A message from her. This is why she prefers me,” You took her hand “My death is a fixed point, see it from a new perspective,”

She froze, as you tapped at the time travel device “I love you, old man, and I’m sorry.” You whispered, unable to speak in a volume higher than that, you finally let go of her hand.

“I love you-” She began. She didn’t finish the sentence before you had vanished from in front of her. The Doctor considered your words for a moment. For the first time in a long time she smiled. “So a new perspective, death, she just has to die,” She swung around to the otherside of the TARDIS pressing more buttons and flicking switches.

Her tardis was in the citadel, one of the rooms that had been abandoned by the master, stuck in the state of murder. The Doctor’s breath caught in her throat; she did not want to be here. It came flooding back to her amongst the maze of corridors the unknowing the gut feeling of unknowing. She was running up the stairs, running to you. The only certainty left. Rounding the corner she saw you; what was left of you. She saw herself, her face distorting in pain within the truth field, unaware of the events outside it. As gently as she could, she picked up your body, she heard footsteps, the fam. She left the room as quickly as she could.

The TARDIS welcomed her, encouraging noises coming from the console. She set off before anything else, she couldn’t have the risk of the others seeing her. You lay on the floor, pale, lips parted. If she didn’t know better she would have assumed you were sleeping. A glowing light slipped from her fingers, she gently placed her hand against your cheek, one final loving gesture, “I can’t lose you again. Come back to me, I love you,” She mumbled. There was a second. It felt like a thousand years. The Doctor held her breath the whole time, unable to move, solely focussing on you. Your chest rose slightly. You were breathing

You were kept in the medical bay and you finally woke up after three painfully long days. You wandered into the TARDIS console room, encouraging bleeps and bloops coming from her.

“What happened? Did we damage the timeline?” Was all you managed to get out before you were tackled to the floor by a strong overwhelming hug.

“You’re ok, you’re safe, I think I fixed it, you’re ok,” She mumbled into you

“Did I?” You asked the situation blurry

“Yes. I brought you back, I just need to know you’re ok,”

“I’m fine, not a scratch on me, feeling the best I have felt in a while actually,” You were laughing now unable to contain the happiness you felt when you saw her. You stayed like that for a while, lying on the TARDIS floor a mixture of laughing and crying.

“Travel with me, please,” She asked, her hand in your hair she asked, still lying next you.

“Of course I will. I’ll quit at the institute. I think it’s about time I took a step back. No more institute, time I lived a life rather than reading one.” You were pulled to your feet, and guided to the console by her, your ringless hand held within hers. She typed in coordinates, and pressed a few buttons “So, you can do the honours,” The Doctor pointed you towards the main switch. You grabbed her hand and placed it onto the switch with yours pulling it down, “We’re doing this. First stop - victorian England. Finally synced Together.”

#13th doctor x reader #13th doctor #thirteen #thirteenth doctor x reader #13th doctor/you #thirteenth doctor/reader #doctor who self insert #doctor who x reader #institute fic #thank you for reading <3

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reddie-set-goooo · 6 years

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This’ll Be Fun

Read here on AO3

Summary - Chapter 2:

Eddie could not handle this.

People were disgusting, summer was disgusting, this booth was disgusting, and Richie was confusing.

Eddie could not handle this.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2 - Training - Day 1

9:10 AM

Eddie trailed behind Richie as he led Eddie through the carnival. He was trying to focus on what Richie was telling him, he knew it was going to be important for his job, but he was still annoyed at Richie for being so rude without even getting to know him first. He was also annoyed with himself for finding Richie attractive when he was clearly a dick. He felt out of place already with his new coworkers. His brash entrance probably hadn’t helped, looking like an over eager newcomer, but that didn’t mean they had to be mean. He was also trying to figure out what Stan had meant about Richie behaving, he was worried he was gonna get hazed, he wouldn’t put it past this glasses jerk.

All of a sudden Eddie ran straight into Richie’s chest.

He backed up spluttering, trying to figure out what had just happened. He looked up to see Richie grinning down at him.

“What’d you do that for?” Eddie accused, already done with Richie’s shit.

“Tell me the last thing that I just told you,” Richie retorted smugly.

Eddie gaped at him, his mouth hanging open like a trout, he knew that Richie was right, he hadn’t been listening for at least the last five minutes. He didn’t wanna give Richie the satisfaction though, he wanted to wipe that stupid smug grin right off his face.

“I would assume something either rude or useless.” Eddie didn’t get exactly the reaction he was hoping, instead of being taken aback or maybe even some begrudging respect, Richie just laughed at him again. Eddie hated it.

Then Richie threw his arm around Eddie’s shoulders and pulled him along. Eddie hated that even more. He tried to pull his shoulders in and shy away from Richie’s grip, but Richie only pulled him in tighter as they walked.

“Oh yea Eds, we’re gonna have a fun week. Just you stick with me.”

“Don’t call me that,” Eddie grumbled to himself mostly. He wouldn’t admit this to himself and really he barely registered it over his extreme annoyance with Richie, but his stomach had fluttered just slightly when Richie had called him Eds.

“So, EDS,” Richie started, putting emphasis onto the nickname, clearly having heard Eddie’s complaint, “since I have to go over the last five minutes of training, because you clearly couldn’t keep your eyes off my ass,” Eddie began to protest but couldn’t make any words form, “Eddie, Eds, my boy, don’t worry about it, I know I’m irresistible, but let’s have some professionalism in the work place,” then Richie winked at Eddie and Eddie felt another slight flutter deep in his stomach, but all he could do was splutter helplessly and gape at Richie’s bravado. Richie laughed once again at Eddie and pulled him into a picnic table next to the Ferris Wheel.

Richie pushed Eddie down onto the bench and then slid in across from him. Eddie rolled his eyes, because come on, what was with this fucking guy. The first thing he ever does is laugh straight in Eddie’s face and now he’s trying to ... what? Flirt? With Eddie? Please, like that would ever happen.

Eddie crossed his arms on top of the table and leaned forward, waiting, Richie seemed to be waiting for Eddie to break the silence and that was not happening. Eddie could wait this out. Eddie would wait this out. Richie would not win. It had only been a few minutes at this point, it wasn’t awkward. Eddie could totally win.

…

“Jesus! What?!” Eddie finally yelled.

“Fuck yea! Victory motherfucker!” Richie stood up and fist pumped the air with such gusto that Eddie was vaguely concerned that he might have dislocated his shoulder. And then Eddie reminded himself he didn’t care.

Eddie rolled his eyes at Richie’s victory dance that he was still doing, “So, we gonna get back to training?”

Richie stopped for a moment and then pulled one of his feet up on top of the table, leaning his elbow on his knee. He raised his eyebrows at Eddie, then made a wide sweeping gesture to his raised leg and to the rest of him. “Don’t pretend like you’re not enjoying this view Eds,” Richie said while faking offense, bringing his hand to his chest and dropping his jaw.

Eddie continued to stare at Richie, his face impassive. While yes, Eddie could admire Richie’s aesthetic, despite how absurd it was. He was wearing khaki shorts that ended just above his knee, a white t-shirt with the words “Derry Carnival” written across it in a 70’s font, with a garish Hawaiian shirt on over it. It was bright red with blue and white hibiscus flowers patterned across it with palm fronds mixed in as well. The guy himself wasn’t half bad either, tall, slender, he had dark curly hair that framed his face which was splattered with freckles, even his giant, dorky glasses seemed to fit him. Eddie had to admit he was into it, but everything else about this guy though just screamed douchebag to Eddie. No way.

Eddie took a deep breath and then repeated his last statement, “So, we gonna get back to training, trashmouth,” Eddie couldn’t help himself, he had to throw that in there at the end, he’d heard Bev use it and now he understood how Richie had earned that nickname.

Richie chuckled, but sat back down on the bench. “Eds, just you wait, me and you, we’re gonna be tight, just like this,” and he held up his first two fingers which were crossed. He waited for a reaction from Eddie, but Eddie just stared straight back at him, his face as blank as he could make it. Richie chuckled again and sighed, “Alright, down to brass tacks, this week we’re gonna have you try out each different position that we have at the park so you find the right fit, you will be shadowing me on each one of these positions. Today we’re going to be starting out on ticket sales, give you something easy for your first day. Hopefully you can handle it,” Richie said the last part almost as a test, and he looked at Eddie with a glint of a challenge in his eyes, his mouth moved into a small smirk.

Eddie leaned forward ever so slightly, “I can handle anything.”

5:00 PM

Eddie could not handle this.

People were disgusting, summer was disgusting, this booth was disgusting, and Richie was confusing.

Eddie could not handle this.

9:30 AM

Richie had walked him up to the booth for ticket sales and first of all, Eddie had immediately noticed how small the booth really was. It was clearly meant for one single person, but here he was with Richie, holding the door open for him and ushering him inside, about to be squeezed into a maybe 6 square foot area.

There was only one chair in the booth and Richie had slid into it first, “I’m gonna run the first few transactions, that way you can see how it’s done and get a feel for how the booth works, then after a bit we’ll switch places and you can try it out for yourself.”

So, Eddie had leaned back on the wall, there were maybe 3 inches of space in between him and Richie. Sweat began to run down Eddie’s forehead and back, the small space would have been enough to get him sweating, it was a sweltering day as it was, 90 degrees, but having two people jammed into such a small space only made it hotter in there. Eddie couldn’t understand how Richie wasn’t dying under his curls, or how he seemed to be happy with every fucking person who came to the booth. It was like this kid was an endless stream of over enthusiasm.

Eddie had watched him for about half an hour before they hit a lull in the line, Richie twisted around in his chair and asked, “So, Eds, you still think you can handle this?” That gleam was back in his eyes, challenging Eddie.

“I told you, I can handle this, how hard can it really be, if someone as annoying as you can make these people happy and hand out tickets, I’m sure I’ll be fine,” Eddie retorted.

Richie smirked widely at Eddie, “Alright, let’s put that to the test then, switch with me.” He stood up and stepped as far out of the way as he could, but given the space, that was only a few inches. Eddie stepped forward to get to the chair, but there was a nail sticking out of the floor board that he didn’t see and it caught on his tennis shoe lace. He lost his balance and started to tip forward, he tried to reach out for the small counter in the booth to catch himself, but Richie caught him first.

He’d grabbed Eddie by each of his forearms and lifted him up against Richie’s chest, probably to help balance Eddie’s weight more, at least that’s what Eddie told himself. Richie was looking down at him through his glasses, their faces only a few inches apart at this point. Eddie felt a blush growing up from his neck and tried to lean back away from Richie, but he felt Richie’s hands tighten just a tiny bit and stopped.

Eddie waited with baited breath for something to break this stale mate, that something was Richie, “I knew you could only wait so long before throwing yourself at me Eds, but only an hour? I thought you’d try and hold out a little longer, guess I’m even more irresistible than I thought.” Richie smirked at him and Eddie scoffed as he pushed himself away from Richie.

“As if,” Eddie huffed as he took the seat in the booth.

He heard Richie chuckle behind him and felt his cheeks heat up again. He was about to add something else about Richie’s inflated ego, but then he noticed a customer walking up and put on a professional smile.

Richie leaned down and put a hand on Eddie’s shoulder and muttered lowly into his ear, “First customer Eddie, try not to blow it.”

Eddie shrugged Richie’s hand off him and tried to refocus.

“Hello, what can I do for you today ma’am?” Eddie said once the lady had reached the boot.

She stood there for a moment and appraised the ticket prices, “Yea, can I get 20 tickets please?”

“Sure thing, that’ll be $15.”

She nodded and then Eddie watched as she reached into her shirt and her sports bra to pull out a wad of cash. He watched as she unrolled it to pull out a $20 bill. She held it out to him and he hesitated as he reached for it. He tried to unhear everything his mom had ever told him about germs and forced himself to grab the bill.

Immediately he cringed, the bill was damp with her sweat and Eddie almost gagged. He put it in the till as fast as he could and grabbed her change and her tickets.

As soon as she walked away Eddie let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and gagged slightly to himself. Fuck, maybe he really couldn’t handle this.

Suddenly he remembered that Richie was behind him and pulled himself back together. “do people do that often?? Like do they keep money in gross places all the time?”

Richie snickered quietly, “Why? You got a problem working the booth?”

Eddie felt his body tense, “No, I just want to know what I should be prepared for, and you’re supposed to be training me, so I asked a question, so could you maybe not be a dick for 2 seconds,” he snapped. He regretted it as soon as he said it, he didn’t want to cause a problem between him and Richie, they were stuck in this booth together all day and working together the rest of the week. Not to mention, Richie was his superior and Eddie shouldn’t be talking to him that way period. His tensed stature deflated and he saw Richie’s face held slightly less certainty than it had all day. “I’m – I’m sorry, I just really don’t like germs and I just wanted to know if that was a normal thing, I’m really sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped, it’s not my place to speak to you that way,” he said in an abashed and quiet voice.

Richie rolled out his shoulders briefly and the bravado returned to his demeanor, he slapped Eddie’s shoulder playfully, “Don’t sweat it Eds, this is how I train all the newbies, gotta weed out the ones who aren’t gonna last the summer. If I don’t push you then I don’t know what you can and can’t handle, I’m gonna keep you on tickets today as planned but this probably won’t be the booth for you, people are really gross.”

Eddie felt a rock in his stomach at that moment, he wanted to believe it was because he knew he’d be working in this gross booth the rest of the day, but he knew that wasn’t the reason. Richie said he trained everyone this way, and Eddie had to figure out why that bothered him so much.

#Richie Tozier #richie x eddie #eddie kaspbrak #reddie fanfic #reddie au #carnival au #fanfic

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zachsgamejournal · 3 years

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REFLECTING: Final Fantasy VII

Final Fantasy VII's Biggest Problem is Jenova

I love Final Fantasy VII, but it’s not perfect. The game has a great allegory for environmentalism, militarism, and capitalism. President Shinra has become rich extracting a natural resource from the ground and turning it into energy: Mako Energy. Using his profits, he’s able to fund a private military and threaten with literal force any that oppose or challenge him. With the influence of his power and money, he’s able to control local governments and act on his impulses without reproach. And while commits to war for profit, his reactors literally drain the planet of its life force. He’s the perfect antagonist to our band of misfits. But somewhere near the end of the early, amazing chapters of the game--there’s a bait and switch. President Shinra is left murdered, and Jenova/Sephiroth are revealed to be the true antagonists.

Problem is...they don’t quite work with the frame that’s been set.

Jenova is an alien. She travels around, consuming the life force of planets. A parasite. For the victim planet, I’m sure this is unpleasant, but it’s not necessarily any different than orcas hunting seals, right? So while you definitely don’t want Jenova destroying the world--she’s not exactly the same level of evil (if evil at all) as Shinra. And Sephiroth, her almost-son (he’s infused with her cells), is the victim of experimentation, indoctrination, and lies from Shinra. He’s very much a victim in this story. His reaction is...excessive and murderous, but he’s still not a man of greed that has murdered and pillaged for the sake of pure power and selfishness. Sephiroth is broken and delusional, Shinra is evil.

It’s important to establish your villains early. While it’s fun to trick your audience, it causes confusion. If you establish a clear villain and hero, then switch them out later on, you leave your audience wondering: “What’s this story even about?” FF7 starts off with great back-to-back sequences, introducing new characters and concepts at a healthy pace that keep the game interesting, while building up a hundred and one reasons to hate Shinra. The peake being President Shinra murdering thousands of his own citizens to make a point against a handful of eco-terrorists. But as we’re about to confront this living monster, the game says, “JK--here’s the real final boss: Jenova.” And then there’s hours of confused plot twists trying to legitimize a weak antagonist. But the real enemy is still Shinra. Shinra discovered Jenova, safely hidden away, and began to experiment. Shinra created Sephiroth. Everything that Jenova and Sephiroth accomplish and attempt is due to the reckless and selfish actions of Shinra. And they don’t feel bad.

The easy fix: Jenova isn’t an alien. She’s an Ancient, or Cetra.

If we establish Jenova as an Ancient/Cetra, then Sephiroth’s hypothesis becomes true. His feelings of being betrayed and manipulated by Shinra become true. And his actions of terror and revenge, while evil, become empathetic and human. He’s not just a one-dimensional bad guy we have to defeat to save the planet. He’s a multilayered victim that we must unfortunately destroy to save the planet. Shinra is still the bad guy, but while they’re killing the planet slowly through greed, Sephiroth and Jenova have a plan to kill all humans in a single blow. It creates an uneasy and dramatic three way battle between opponents that are sometimes ideologically aligned.

From my understanding, the history of Jenova and Sephiroth is that Jenova landed on the planet. The Cetra, who could use the life stream to conjure magic, struggled to battle Jenova. The humans, who could not conjure magic, refused to aid the Cetra. Sephiroth, reading about this, takes offense and vows humans to be his enemy and goes to rescue Jenova and take back the planet. The second part works, except this planet doesn’t belong to Jenova.

What if Jenova were the queen of the Cetra. A meteor hits the planet and causes much chaos. The Cetra, who can conjure magic, survive easily. The humans struggle. Jenova agrees to assist the humans. Part of that is showing humans how to turn the life stream into materia. While it helps the humans get back on their feet, they become addicted to its power. The problem is, materia does not return to the planet. The use of it hurts the planet. The Cetra, who are well in-tune with the planet, sense this. Jenova orders the humans to cease, but they ignore her. A war begins.

The Cetra easily over power the humans at first. But human technology grows, and they create massive, terrible weapons which the usually peaceful Cetra cannot defeat. Jenova battles the weapons and is gravely injured. She goes into a deep sleep to recuperate, but the Cetra cannot continue to fight without her. A cease-fire is reached and the human weapons are buried.

Now unchecked, the humans continue to develop materia-based technology. The Cetra, without their powerful queen, are unable to stop it. Their connection to the planet grows weak and their numbers dwindle. Humans spread across the world. Eventually, Shinra begins an aggressive consolidation of Materia and Mako Energy production. He uses his immense wealth to fund a private army and quickly dominates the planet, monopolizing the Mako industry.

Learning of the Promise Land, the secret home of the Cetra, President Shinra sets out to find this supposed unlimited source of Mako energy. In doing so, he discovers Jenova where she sleeps. Shinra orders scientific study, and Sephiroth is the result of that experimentation. With her cells infused with his own, Sephiroth is inhumanly powerful. He becomes a great war hero and poster boy for Shinra. But upon learning of his origin and the actions of Shinra, Sephiroth becomes vengeful and delusional. He declares all humans his enemy and strives to rescue Jenova and save the planet by killing all humans. Cloud stops this first attempt after seeing Sephiroth destroy Cloud’s hometown.

Sephiroth falls into the lifestream and now slumbers in the north crater. Jenova plans to return there, utilizing Sephiroth clones to travel. Her goal is to reconnect with Sephiroth and complete the plan for vengeance and cleansing. Sensing the danger that Sephiroth and Jenova represent, Cloud’s team plans to stop them--which happens to be Shinra’s goal. But Shinra is greedy, not altruistic. Sometimes it’s an uneasy alliance, but mostly it’s antagonistic.

Aerith is a Cetra descendant. More pure than Sephiroth. She plans to use her power to stop Jenova and Sephiroth--and she has the strength to do it. With this realization, Sephiroth murders Aerith. Jenova and Sephiroth are able to call for another meteor to cause a catastrophic destruction of human civilization. They also awaken and control the buried human weapons to wreak havoc.

With Aerith dead, Jenova, and in a lesser way--Sephiroth, represent the last of the ancient race of Cetra. It’s this sad truth that makes the final battles with Jenova and Sephiroth so bitter. Both of them are victims. Jenova saved the humans at the cost of her own people. Sephiroth was tricked into unwittingly using the power of Cetra to further destroy the planet and erase their legacy. With their will unyielding, the only way to save humanity is their destruction.

But in the final confrontations, Aerith’s spirit reveals itself. Her love and passion for her human friends mixed with her Cetra ancestry convince Jenova to surrender her quest for vengeance. With her hatred subsiding, she begins to fade into the lifestream. Sephiroth is alone. He’s the last of the Cetra, but not a true descendant. Being both not-human and not-Cetra, he has no place in this world. He has no place in the lifestream. Jenova gave him some sense of belonging, but that is gone now. All that is left is rage and hatred.

Cloud defeats him.

As Sephiroth dies, he reminds Cloud that Cloud himself is an outsider. He’s the result of experiments and his merging of Sephiroth’s cells makes the pair of them more alike than any other two beings. If Jenova is “mother”, then the two of them are brothers. Sephiroth insists that Cloud is now alone. That the legacy of Cetra lives through him, and the humans will not accept him. Cloud reflects on the new family he’s made with his companions and tells Sephiroth he’s wrong. Sephiroth dies and fades away.

As Cloud’s team escapes the crater, the meteor is attacking Midgar. The lifestream comes forth and stops the meteor. Shinra is in shambles, but not destroyed. There’s an opportunity for humans to start over with a new appreciation for the lifestream.

But will they?

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amourete-blog1 · 7 years

Text

(( an 8 sweep old in queen porrim’s court

tagging: @gentleaegis @hereticalsym69ls uhhh and i guess @roseredmutant since he’s in the house

begin log:

aberrantcadenza Now that you've been properly apprised of what's going on, you go back to what you did at first: Snooping! You are leaning in the doorway being very sneaky and very, completely hidden, watching the one remaining troll on the food preparation block: Someone who looks suspiciously like your mother. What had Xanthe called her? Purrim?

gentleaegis You, Porrim, are wiping down the counters after the cats left pawprints on them. Again. But there's a very familiar feeling of being watched. Having overheard some sort of commotion you don't want to approach just yet for fear of startling anyone. "What are you doing?"

aberrantcadenza Is she talking to you? She can't be. You're VERY well hidden. You pull your fingers back in from around the doorframe and shrink back so only your eyes, the top of your head and your horns are visible. You're SO sneaky right now.

gentleaegis Ohhhh you see what's happening here. Doing your very best to hide a laugh (you fail, you're smiling very hard right now) you turn your back again and pretend to keep cleaning. Quietly enough to listen for reactions, but you hope the gesture is disarming.

aberrantcadenza SUCCESS! Who is the sneakmaster, it's you!! It's safe to peek out more now, so you pop your whole head out from behind the doorframe to watch her. She looks EXACTLY like your mom, except her skin is so pale! Maybe she was underground too long, or maybe the sun bleached all the grey out. You're pretty sure that can happen! But can it happen to jadebloods?

After you ponder over this, you decide to take your sneaking a bit further. You scoot out from the doorway and very, very carefully tip-toe into the room, then hide next to the counter.

gentleaegis Oh excellent. Maybe you won't have to scare her since the letting her come to you approach seems to be going swimmingly. You put the kettle on and set out her favourite tea cup, with the leaves and strainer sitting to the side. You know how to bait Leijons by now. (:<

aberrantcadenza !! Oh!! That is a REALLY cute cup. It has cats on it! Does she like cats too? You knew she liked tea, but the cats are new. The strainer is so nice... You creep a little closer as soon as the coast is clear to get a better look at it. Those leaves smell *so* good... this is a really fancy tea, not like the ones you make on the road. You wonder where she got it.

gentleaegis M...maybe now? Gosh it's been a while since you've been in this situation. It's hard. Don't look over. Don't be scary. "Would you like to try it?"

aberrantcadenza !! SPOTTED! ABORT ABORT.

But... What if you DIDN'T abort? Did she offer you tea? You think that's what she said.

Your voice is kind of quiet, but you say, "Yes? Please."

gentleaegis AAAH. You're going to die she's so precious. "Alright. Do you want me to make it for you or would you like to try? Should I fetch you a stool to sit on?"

aberrantcadenza Ooh!! You want to try, but you don't know this tea. Is it the same as any other tea? What if it's different? What if you ruin it?

"May I try?" That's the word, right? "May?"

gentleaegis "You may! Come see, I'll help you if you need it." GOSH. You slide the strainer over so she doesn't have to lean quite so close to reach it, just in case.

aberrantcadenza Oh!! It's a cat! You pick it up in both hands. This is so fancy! You can see where the tea is supposed to be, but you can't figure out how to put it in. You poke at the cat all over to look for a switch, and shake it a couple times.

gentleaegis Goodness gracious, not laughing is so difficult. "Twist in the middle and it will open. Only fill it about half way, please."

aberrantcadenza Oh! It pops right open. You smile as you have each half in your hands, and very delicately put the cat's head onto the counter. There. You give it a pat on the head with the tip of your finger.

You very carefully spoon a little bit of tea into the bottom of the tea strainer, then hold it out to her to inspect.

gentleaegis Ah! Dare you make a more bold move to win her favour? Yes. "Purrfect. Now you put it back together and put it in the cup so its little paws are holding on."

As you speak you go lift the kettle off the heat and fill the cup. It's too hot and even if she's still an adult you don't let your OTHER adult children handle it around you.....

aberrantcadenza :OO !!! Purr!!! You make a pleased little trill and grin at her.

You'd better hurry, she's already got the water! You twist the cat's top half right back on, and perch it very carefully inside the cup. A little bit of tea spilled, but you don't notice. When you've completed your task you step back a little and fold your hands in front of you while she handles the water. You're very familiar with this part.

gentleaegis So well behaved, what a change...

You put the kettle back v e r y carefully. "Now we wait. When you think the colour is right you can take the cat out. There is milk in the fridge if you want that too."

aberrantcadenza You have to take the cat *out?* Oh no. You wanted to drink it with the cat in. She's using simple words, words you know, so you're catching about 3/4ths of what she's saying.

"What color?" you ask, standing on your tip-toes to look at the surface of the tea.

gentleaegis "Brown usually?" Oh mom... "Just when you think it looks good. There are no rules."

Thankfully you know how she takes it so if she leaves it brewing TOO long you can take it out for her. But you want to let her try.

aberrantcadenza "It's all brown!" You stick your tongue out at her, but it looks more like a blep. Mlem. "Okay. Wait?" You point to the chairs at the kitchen table.

gentleaegis "But the good tea brown, Felide!" Pff. You want to just squish her little face when she bleps. RESIST, PORRIM. "Do you want to bring the chair over so you can see?"

aberrantcadenza Yes! Yes you do! You dart right over to the table to pick up a chair. Although you're pretty strong at your age, you're not quite as strong as your present self is. You pick the chair up with ease and toddle over to the counter, where you sit on it backwards.

gentleaegis Okay no you can't handle it anymore, a quiet little laugh slips out even as you cover your mouth with one hand. You even light up the tiniest amount. Whoops. Better not mention that. "I think another minute will be good. What do you think?"

aberrantcadenza TOO FUCKIN LATE! Your eyes widen a bit when you see it. "Glow?" ??? Concern??? Why is she lighting up? What is going on??

gentleaegis AUGH. FECK. How tf do you describe this...Um. You mime the shape of your own fangs, but bigger. "Drinker. It's safe though, don't worry."

aberrantcadenza "Oh," you say, as if this explains everything and she didn't just namedrop one of the scarier creatures in troll mythos. You nod. "You are always safe."

gentleaegis ! The RELIEF. "I try my best! But always safe for you, of course. People who might hurt you? Not so much."

You lean over to peek at the tea. Oof it's getting a biiiit strong now. "What do you think, Felide?"

aberrantcadenza Oh! Oh dear. You can smell it, and you nod. Time to EXTRACT CAT.

And of course, you burn your fingers doing so. You grabbed the strainer too close to the water! The cat gets dropped on the counter messily and you hold your fingers with a surprised little squeak. Naughty cat! You are, in fact, glaring at the cat strainer.

gentleaegis Ohhhhh dear. First things first you reach for her hands - partly to inspect the damage but also so that she doesn't go picking the thing up again. "Careful. Let me see?"

The clean up can wait for later.

aberrantcadenza You hold out your hands. Your fingertips are just a little red, it's not really that bad! You're mad at the little cat anyway. It was so deceptively cute! It tricked you like this!

gentleaegis As delicately as you can you lift her hands up just a little - enough to meet you when you duck your head down and kiss them better. 0:

It's only for a moment, and then she is Free. "Go run them under the cold water for a bit and I will clean up."

aberrantcadenza !! :D You smile immediately, purr a little, and go to do just that. Your arms just barely reach over the sink. Cold water runs on your fingers until they return to regular temperature, and then you shut it off - but not before licking the water stream, because what kind of cat would you be if you didn't? A shitty one, that's what.

You pat your mouth dry with the towel for a quick moment before turning to her with your usual "I didn't do anything" look.

gentleaegis In the time she takes to do that you very quickly put the cat out of reach to be dealt with later and wipe the surface down so there's no more hot water there.

Oho she's up to something though. "What did you do?"

aberrantcadenza "No!" you say, by which you mean that you didn't do anything. You put your hands behind your back and look very proper. No shenanigans to be seen here!

Oh, there's a drop of water on your face. You wipe it off very quickly and go back to looking proper.

gentleaegis Oh no. You're going to have to put on the Mom Voice, even if you aren't actually feeling that serious. "Felide..."

aberrantcadenza Whiiiine!! You do the pouty face. Mom face vs kitten face, FIGHT!

gentleaegis So that's how it's going to be? You cross your arms and prepare to wait it out. A mom power move.

aberrantcadenza Oh no! You've activated her trap card! You've been defeated. You sigh, letting your hands drop. "Drank sink water."

gentleaegis PFF. No no, no laughing, Porrim. "That's allowed. The plumbing is very good here, you're not going to get sick from a little bit."

aberrantcadenza Oh! You didn't do anything wrong after all! You beam brightly. "It's different from home!"

gentleaegis "It's very different. But this part is good different, right?" A a a h. Dying. You can't keep that grumpy pose when she's this sweet...

aberrantcadenza You purr. "It tastes clean!" is your only complaint, and you make a face to go with it. "But not being sick is good."

You peek over at your tea, and then look back to her for permission to get it.

gentleaegis "Clean is good!" You laugh and wave a hand. "Go on then. Be careful though, it will still be hot."

aberrantcadenza Yes!! Score! Obtained: One (1) tea. "Merci! Thank you!" You CAN speak Common! You're trying to learn, anyway, and you're sure she would want you to practice. You put your teacup on the table, and then scoot your chair back over to sit and drink it.

gentleaegis She's so excitable and even though it's just a cup of tea - and you see her make it most nights - you find yourself swept up in the emotion of it all. You end up peering over her shoulder in anticipation. Wow! O:

aberrantcadenza You smile at her, and bump noses. "Sit?" you ask, gesturing to another chair. "Please?"

gentleaegis ! That is an instruction you're happy to follow! You sit, hands folded in your lap and back straight as you were taught. "Do you like it?"

aberrantcadenza You nod, and just barely pull back from your tea when you do. It's *really* nice tea. "We don't have this back home. How can you affurd it?" Your accent is pretty thick and your r's are rolled.

gentleaegis "We work hard! And this is your hive so I can spend my money on nice treats for you." And you do, when you're not saving it for something Bigger.

aberrantcadenza "We have work here?" You're kind of in awe. Last thing you knew, you were still traveling with your family, and Xanthe hasn't told you much about what's changed. "Did things change? Did people listen?"

gentleaegis Ah...You'll have to consult the others before she can get an answer on what to tell her. For now you hope you can dance around the truth. "People are still mean here, but not so dangerous. Xanthe does his wood work, Lil does readings. I work in a tattoo parlour and you have a shop all your own! It's very impressive."

aberrantcadenza "I wouldn't stop to make a shop," you say, very matter-of-fact as you sip your tea. "I would keep going until they listened. Unless Xanthe stopped. Someone has to do it."

gentleaegis Shoot. Uh. "You wanted to be close to Nepeta. And Xanthe lives here too so it isn't as though you are separated at all." Clooooose enough??

aberrantcadenza You have so many questions, and it shows on your face. "A lot changes in the future?"

gentleaegis "A lot, yes! But I can't tell you too many details, that would spoil the surprises!" Well you're not LYING...You're just...neglecting to mention that they're not NICE surprises.

aberrantcadenza Too late! They MUST be good surprises if she's refusing to spoil them for you. You smile all the more. "Tell me a little bit? Very small? Please?"

gentleaegis That little menace knows what she's doing using that precious face against you. Dammit. You'll just have to spin this in your favour by pretending to glance around to make sure the coast is clear, then cover one side of your face with a hand. To keep the secrets from sneaking past her. Of course.

"You get to become SO skilled that there are a few trolls who asked you to be their teacher!"

aberrantcadenza Oh yes, you know EXACTLY what you're doing. You also know she's not telling you everything, but at least she's better at lying than Xanthe is. You'll have to pester him more.

"*Me?* A teacher? I don't think I could efur be as good a teacher as you."

gentleaegis These are high quality lies. Premium lies. Mom lies. "You become the BEST teacher. You show some trolls how to hunt, and others to hone their craft!"

What's impressive enough to distract..."You brought down a dragon with little more than teeth and knives just a few perigees ago."

aberrantcadenza Oh FUCK that's cool!! Your attempts at prying the truth out have been forgotten, and you GASP. "A *dragon?*"

gentleaegis HAHA. GOTCHA. You stretch your hands out as faaaaaar as they'll go. "A very big one! I'm sure there are still teeth lingering around the hive somewhere that you can see to prove it's real. We were all very impressed."

aberrantcadenza "A dragon!!" You're grinning widely, and your little pawfeet are doing baby kicks from where they hang above the floor. You can't be any more excited than this without spilling your tea. "I'll look for them! But tea first."

gentleaegis SOS mother in distress: you want to just scoop her up and squeeze her. CUTE CUTE. "Good idea! The teeth will still be there later but the tea only stays warm so long. You did a good job. Should I get more of that kind or do you want to try something new next time?"

aberrantcadenza :O ! "I want to try something new! But not if you have to get it. This is good!"

gentleaegis "Hmm..." You tap your chin, trying to come up with a solution. "How about when this one runs out we can try something new then. Does that sound more fair?"

aberrantcadenza That sounds like the perfect plan to you, and not wasteful at all. It's important not to waste. You nod. "Okay!"

gentleaegis Eyyyy! "So what's the plan then. After tea find your cool treasures and meet some more people? Or maybe a nap? I know it must be tiring learning all these new things..."

aberrantcadenza You're about to talk about all the thrilling mischief you plan to partake in, but a yawn interrupts you. You *are* kind of tired.

"I want to explore," you tell her. "Catnap first. Then exploring." You finish your tea, and stand to go wash out your cup. "Thank you Mom."

gentleaegis "Good idea. But remember if you're going outside to tell someone where you are so we don't get worried, alright?"

Ahhhh the not being her *real* mom talk can wait for later. She looks happy and you can't quite bring yourself to ruin that.

aberrantcadenza You wash your cup, put it on the "clean" side of the counter (you can't reach the cabinet), and go to give her a hug. "Yes'm."

gentleaegis "Thank you sweetheart. I'll put that away in a bit." You give her a little squeeze and press a kiss or three to the top of her head. "Don't stay out too late, okay?"

aberrantcadenza You confirm with a nod and a "mm-hm!", and with your hug given, you trot off to go take your nap. Adventure awaits! - after a snooze.

#ooc post #/#//#///#////#gentleaegis #log archives #M!A: Young lover's rage #food ment /

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kaylamatth3ws-blog · 5 years

Text

SONDER

“The subway is a weird place. Never again am I going to be in a place with so many people at once as more flow in and out. Like the rapidity of a stream, actually. Coming and going, as if they were never even there to begin with, or never even left once someone takes their spot. Plethoric voices and scents yet I am confined to this spot. I have not budged from my position but my mind is at the end of the train, following the movement of this one guy.”

“His shoulders are slouched and his jacket is a dark blue with stripes of darker blue and dirty white cascading downwards. He has an obvious beer belly too, even with the measures he is taking to mask it with the railing he is holding onto. The railing is sturdy and stagnant, yet one could easily be fooled into thinking otherwise with the way he is swaying. Humourous, it is. To me. He is not very amused, though, given that this woman keeps eyeing him on the back-right of the train. But I think he secretly likes it. He hates his balance. No. He hates his lack of balance, but he is enjoying the attention. It almost feels like it has been a while for him since he has received attention. Oddly enough, though, he’s wearing a ring.”

“Something warm just landed on me, I’m afraid to find out what it is. It’s on my shoe, feels thin thankfully, it won’t take too long to wipe off. I have had lots of substances fall on me in my times in this cart. The dog pee, the occasional coffee when the train hits a bump－I have even had someone spit on me once. He said he didn’t mean to, actually. I wrote about it. It sold pretty well. He was one of my first characters that wasn’t really a character. He was real. A character implies it’s fake, or a costume, maybe even a facade really. He didn’t put up a facade, though, he took responsibility for spitting. He had a tumour. Or at least in my version he did. It wasn’t as much fun writing about the potentially disrespectful or autistic man who spit on me on my way to work as it was writing about the boy who grew up with a tumour growing in him. The tumour caused impulsivity and made it really hard for him to keep a relationship with someone, too. He always cheated. That book did pretty well now that I am looking back. The subway really is a weird place.”

“I am so sorry, the train hit a damn bump.” This woman starts apologizing to him, wondering why he is not upset or even reactive. He sits and stares at her before smiling slightly and jotting something down in his notepad.

“Sir, did you not feel that?” The woman tries again.

“Oh no, I certainly did.” The woman stares blankly for a moment.

“Well, would you like me to give you a tissue? I might have a few-”

“Considering my shoes are black,” interrupted the man, “and it has already begun to dry in the time you’ve taken to apologize, I’ll pass.”

The man continues to smile at the woman and she remains confused, anticipating her stop. She mutters an “okay” and looks away before she feels a hand on hers. The man is now standing before her, gazing into her eyes and almost towering over her due to their height difference. She quickly yanks her hand away and glares at the same man she spilt her drink on. She has half a mind to yell at him for invading her personal space, but he interrupts those thoughts with a question.

“Do tell me though,” remarks the man. “What was the drink?”

“Pardon?”

“How many drinks have you spilt on people today?” laughs the man. The look of confusion grows on the woman’s face but then the expression falters. She settles down after a moment and simply answers.

“Decaf.”

“Hmm, that’s soft. Judging by your quick and snappy reactions mixed in with the bags under your eyes, I’d say you’re trying to curb your caffeine addiction. No need, though. We all need our vessels, and yours at least gives you a boost. Mine, well, mine gets me new pairs of shoes.”

Before she could reply, the subway comes to a halt and the doors open, sparking the woman to leave as quickly as she can. As she gaits out the door, the man watches her through the crowd of people rushing in and out of the subway. Nothing to her strikes him as predatorial, however, even with the way he gives her one last look and continues to write in his notepad, muttering to himself as he does.

“The subway is a weird place,” the woman says aloud to herself as she walks up the stairs and out the door. Almost as if she was never even there.

The subway has taken off so the man sits down again, smiling at what he has written. He extends his legs for a moment to stretch. He accidentally kicks a man’s bag that’s laying on the ground before him so the man gets angered.

“What, are you blind or something?” snarls the man. He grits his teeth at him.

“Hey, I know you heard me. A coward of a man, you can’t even apologize.” The man on the subway cart is clearly angered but the man with his notepad just sits and remains to himself for a few moments. He continues to write in his notepad and looks up at the guy every now and then. The guy feels like he’s being studied and he hates that. More than he should. He feels like a test subject, and the man with his notepad marks this quality in him, realizing there is more to the story.

“Didn’t realize how close you were to me,” says the man with his notepad. He does this intentionally. He wants to bait the man, to make him feel like the blame has been shifted on him. He was the one who was too close to him, not the other way around.

“Buddy, there was enough space between us, you just decided to go ahead and invade the distance.” The man is impressed by his articulation, prompting him to write in his notepad. He tries again.

“Invasion implies an almost perennial act. That was not what happened.” He waits and watches as the man thinks about his next reply, clearly caught on the lexicon he used against him. The man with the notepad takes pity on this.

“It was my bad.”

The man with the notepad returns to writing and the man before him softens, normalizing his face before switching back to his initial face, coated with anger and a painted on look of reverie. The man’s awareness is still in the train but he does not want it to appear so. This gives him an alibi for when he watches the man write in his notepad for the latter part of his train ride. The man with the anger who could not continue his unnecessary blowout exits the train after a few more stops and is covered by the new crowd flowing in. He doesn’t look back, he just continues to walk until he meets the coffee shop nearby. The subway train takes off and the man with his notepad peers through the crowd of people to watch as the guy drinks his coffee and smiles as he answers a phone call. A look of love takes over the guy’s face before the subway enters the tunnel and he is no longer seen. Almost as if he was never even there.

The man with his notepad continually jots in it for the next three minutes, flipping pages as he attempts to scribble his thoughts as fast as they come. He struggles to contain the smile on his face. He loves when the inspiration strikes from the people he hears on the subway. The flow rarely stops once it has started. He finishes a quick little excerpt of a story and reads it back to himself:

“A woman in the latter part of her adolescence walks onto the subway cart, eyes bloodshot and hair wet. She is almost cadaverous the way she peers down the aisle, avoiding eyes with anyone holding coffee. Clearly, she is holding back. Her backpack is black and frayed and the zippers are slightly open, revealing a few assignments. She received a 98 on one of them and a 72 on the next. That is definitely a drastic drop, one could only imagine what caused that. She takes a seat beside a man in his 30s who is gaping at the poster in front of him, behind another person’s head. The poster reveals a man dancing with his wife in the Bahamas, alleging that he was able to take her there by entering a giveaway from a radio station. The man hardly notices when the sleep-deprived teen sits beside him but her perfume brings his awareness back to the train. He is angered. He knows this scent. It was hers. The teen unintentionally kicks the man’s boot while adjusting herself in her seat, sparking the man to stand up abruptly and stab her. The people of the subway flock out in horror as the subway comes to a halt for the next stop. Distant screams are mixed in with gasps of horror and rapid steps trotting out the door. The woman topples over, eyes shutting and hair dropping, no longer only wet from her shower.”

This was his gift. At least, that is what everyone referred to it as. He would ride the subway for hours and overhear pieces of conversations, study the way people behave in public, jot down the way they look and dress, all for the purpose of storytelling. He loved to create stories but he did not want to create people. He lived in a world full of them, there was no need. The rush of writing came from the nights he would spend forcing himself to remember specific voices he had liked the sound of and distinct expressions people made. He would sit in his study with his dog adjacent to him, attempting to grab his attention but always failing once he started to write. This was the routine almost every night, yet still, the dog would always try and try again.

The man smiled down at his notebook and then swung his bag from over his shoulder to place his book back inside of it. He pushed his head back and then closed his eyes for a few moments, taking in the different sounds around him. He could overhear many conversations, some very frivolous and some actually containing meaning. He never truly paid attention to the finer details of the conversations, he wasn’t an eavesdropper. He only focused on the way the people articulated themselves and communicated their ideas, using this as a guide to learning the person. The tone of their voice was indicative of their age or emotion, while the words they used would tell him whether or not they cared about what they were saying. The man with his notepad could almost sense when someone was interested in what they were saying, and if they were, if there was another reason for that interest that was created elsewhere.

“I can hear when people experience catharsis. That is strange to say, but once you spend as much time as I do listening to people talk and studying the way they behave, you could almost feel when someone was truly gaining something from what they were doing. I have heard people feel better when giving advice about something, something they had previously been through and learned from, so the advice felt like they were speaking to themselves as a wiser form. There was something in the way the volume would raise and then lower at certain points that indicated when someone was proud of what they were saying or who they were talking to, even if they were not even sure of it themselves yet. I could tell when someone was interested in talking about something else but remained on the topic anyway to please the individual they were speaking to. Sometimes it was in the way they would look at them, almost indicative of their feelings for them. Maybe they wanted more from the person in terms of their relationship but they could not verbalize it, so their eyes said it for them.”

“I often find that people filter themselves in public. Sometimes I feel like the world is onto me, like they know I’m here to write and only write. Like they know that I am studying their existence and adding them to a collection of individuals I have never even been in contact with but I knew them somehow. From the way they spoke. I feel like my notepad gives people different vibes. I want to say that people are generally too arrogant to care whether or not I write them as murderers or people with depression as long as they are being heard. The world lacks listeners anyways. But where there are listeners like me, there are those who forget none of it. Those who cannot.”

The vibe of today is remorse. Nothing happened in the city, though. There was no nationwide natural disaster or tragic death that triggered the state of the city to feel so dull. Yet nonetheless, the day dragged on. The subway rides were lifeless and dreary, almost like watching paint dry on a sofa. A societal amalgam between the sorrows unknown and known, and the sorrows that have yet to come. The man with his notepad would have loved to write about this.

“Bacterial meningitis,” the doctor says, handing his patient his folder. Before him are photos of scans and a bunch of loose papers with his information on them. The patient gapes at the folder for a few moments but then flicks his head up and smiles easily.

“When will I stop listening?”

“Two days.”

“The last sound I heard was the clicking of my remote before I fell into a deep slumber. If I would have thought, I would have called my mother. Hear her say something once more. Or just laugh. I wouldn’t have wasted a final echo on my remote, doomed to ricochet in my mind until my mind, too, leaves me.”

“At least I have acquired some knowledge on a subject I don’t believe I would have ever learned about. As an infection, it will inhibit me. But as a moment in time, it will ruin me. In the lining and fluid around the brain and spinal column, the infection spreads. Permeates. Tarnishes what will be in its path. Meningitis advances rapidly. Its source may be bacterial, viral, fungal, or parasitic, too. Mine is bacterial. When I first heard that word, I shivered. Succumbed to the power of words. Bacteria did this. My ear infection did this.”

“As meningitis can cause hearing loss, though, the very antibiotics used to cure it can cause hearing loss as well. So I could not escape it. I was doomed from hearing the words from my doctor, set in stone like an unfair plague. I’m growing sicker from the diagnosis than I am from the disease.”

“I dreaded this moment. I want to say I didn’t know it was coming, to add to the effect. Provide a dramatic flare, too, to make this story more interesting. Is this my story? No. It’s a chapter’s last page right before the plot goes downhill. Or a scene’s last few moments before the beloved character dies. I don’t go on from here, I cannot. Is that even achievable?”

The man with his notepad woke up deaf. Tricky. It is hard for him to grasp but not hard for him to understand. He knows why. He has been dreading this moment since he received his diagnosis.

“The subway has always been a weird place. Plethoric voices and scents yet I am confined to this spot. The people are coming and going, as if they were never even there to begin with, or never even left once someone takes their spot. My mind follows this one guy as he bends over to pick up this little girl’s doll. It’s nice of him, really. Many would have let her reach on her own. He seemed to be in pain coming back up, though. Maybe he has a back problem. Yet still, he reaches for this doll while the other people, abled and carefree, walk by. The little girl’s smile grows. They both smile and say to each other what I could only believe to be as an exchange of “thank you,” and “you’re welcome.” Offerings of gratitude and exchanges of humility. I already miss that.”

“I can’t hear their voices so I can’t even mark this down. There would be no point. This man would’ve been a good extra in my plot. To contrast the darkness of a random stabbing by a crazed ex, and whatever else would have entered my mind today had I been able to hear.”

“I’m trying not to interact with these thoughts of circumstances but I am a slave to them. I can’t stop myself. I would’ve written this down so quick. Why does my mind all of a sudden feel lifeless? As if I don’t have a variety of voices to choose from. NO, that’s what it is. I have the variety, but the variety is now stunted. Indefinitely. I can never add to it again. I don’t want to imagine the voice of this child nor the voice of this man. I don’t want to guess the accents they harbour by judging their clothes or skin colour, I want to hear. I want to be accurate. I need to be. I don’t know who I am on this subway ride now.”

“Sorry sir, may I have this seat?” A pregnant woman approaches the man with his notepad and smiles easily, gesturing to him what she means as well. It takes him a few moments to muster the courage to open his mouth.

“I, I, I can’t-t-t hear,” answers the man. His notepad falls from his hands. He bends forward to pick it up and then notices the woman’s belly on the way up. He forces a smile. He no longer needed to hear her. The woman signs him a “thank you” and mouths it as well. He smiles back at her and stands up. He studies her when she is not looking and suddenly he feels tears rushing down his face. He quickly wipes them away and rushes through the subway doors once it comes to a halt. The woman looks confused but lets it be, realizing that neither of them will ever understand each other’s shoes.

“The subway has always been a weird place,” claims the man beside her. She smiles back and then looks away, thinking of the man for only a few moments before her mind floods back to her unborn child. And so, the man has left. Almost as if he was never even there.

“The subway was a weird place.”

#ifyourereadingthisitsinorder

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213hiphopworldnews · 6 years

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Doja Cat’s Continued Live Success Shows That Cancel Culture Has Its Limits

Ken Franklin

Amala Zandile Dlamini has gone from cat, to cow, to duck all in the space of a month, illuminating the dangers of viral success and the limits of so-called “cancel culture” in the process.

The 22-year-old Los Angeles native had spent the last several years making a name for herself as the colorful internet rapper and singer known as Doja Cat, garnering a small, but loyal, following of fans with the quirky, internet culture-influenced tracks found on her 2014 independent EP Purrr! and on her eclectic Soundcloud page. That following was enough to land her a label deal with RCA Records which spawned her debut album Amala earlier this year. Amala came and went without much fanfare, but Doja Cat experienced an explosion in fame when her jokey video for loose track “Mooo!” went viral on social media five months later in the middle of August.

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“Mooo!” was almost guaranteed to become a viral sensation from the jump, with its lo-fi aesthetic, created by Doja herself using iMovie, a green blanket, and a few hilarious props to declare, “B*tch, I’m a cow.” In the video, she twerks and primps in front a series of blog and pop culture-culled background images, including the old Windows XP default wallpaper and a bouncing pair of anime boobs, while she rhymes Mother Goose-ish flexes full of subtly clever wordplay and old school hip-hop references that belie the frivolous concept. As a loose goof, the video is a gift; as an introduction to her expansive back catalog of more polished, artistically focused material, it was a savvy bait-and-switch, disarming the dubious doubts of knee-jerk skepticism endemic to internet natives for whom detached snark is a default reaction to practically any new artist who arrives petitioning their serious consideration.

But then, just as the wave of both critical acclaim and social media approval began to crest, it all came crashing down. Doja Cat “milkshake duck-ed” — aka when a suddenly viral entity reveals itself to be racist/homophobic/otherwise problematic after content mills start doing background research on the newly famous meme subject — in world record time. Years-old tweets wherein the young(er) Doja Cat freely used homophobic terms and expressed disgust for the idea of queer sex (as many unworldly teens — especially the ones raised mostly on hip-hop — are wont to do) resurfaced, and nearly instantly, the breakout star was denounced as canceled, the dreaded state of internet-enforced exile whereby mass denizens of social apps like Twitter declare an entity persona non grata. Her feel-good story of overnight celebrity was at its end — or was it?

It certainly didn’t appear that way from my experience at the Los Angeles stop of her Amala Tour last Friday night (September 21) at the Echoplex. From the line extending down the block even further than it usually has at other hip-hop shows I’ve attended there, to the enthusiasm on display from the wide-ranging, diverse crowd of starry-eyed teens and LA hipsters, it didn’t seem like the online backlash had extended to dampen Doja’s fans’ spirits in the least. Energetic but shy preteens crowded into the all-ages venue alongside teens and young adults and even a few middle-aged concertgoers, with their cat ears and cow horns on headbands all to take in the live spectacle that is a Doja Cat show.

Even more intriguing, there were plenty of fans taking in the concert at home as well, courtesy of live streaming app .WAV, which gained a slew of new subscribers with its previous partnership with Kanye West for his Wyoming campfire Ye release party. As a sponsor for the show, the app provided yet another avenue for the digital and physical worlds to cross over, even as the concert itself highlighted the ways in which both diverge in practice.

For one thing, it quickly became obvious that nary a fan in attendance was there because of the virulent success of “Mooo!” despite the bovine accessories adorning many of their hairdos and wardrobes. Their certified appreciation was evident as they sang along word-for-word to older, more obscure material from across Doja’s discography. Over the years, I’ve observed how cell phone cameras make appearances at concerts at the start of specific, meaningful songs such as hit singles and emotional deep cuts, but this night, those phones continued to pop up at the beginnings of nearly every song Doja performed.

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Tracks like “No Police” and “So High” from Purrr! were given equal import with “Cookie Jar” and “Candy” and “Go To Town” from Amala and both received similar reception to Soundcloud staples such as “Nintendhoe.” When she performed the ’90s sitcom-inspired ode to her “twins,” “Tia Tamera,” complete with the screen behind her alternating images of the titular fraternal duo and even more anime clips of the metaphorical variety, the crowd reacted like the song — which currently only exists online as a snippet captured from an Instagram live stream — was a top ten Hot 100 single.

Far from being “canceled,” Doja Cat’s star power and charisma shone from the simple stage setup of a cow print tablecloth over her DJ’s table and the aforementioned screen. By the time she did perform “Mooo!” at the end of her set — with LA underground rap vet Verbs in a literal cow mask prancing across the stage for good measure — her assembled fans were more than willing to participate in the onstage antics, as she pulled three bold souls up to dance with her as she writhed and bounced her way through the novelty track. One was male, with a full face of Youtube-tutorial quality makeup, one was a bashful ten-year-old girl who practically shrank into her shirt under the spotlight, and the last was a full-figured Black woman in her twenties who Doja complimented on her top. They couldn’t have been more different, yet here they all were, united by the love of this “problematic” artist, having the time of their lives.

In trying to learn more, I talked to a number of attendees to find out why, with the tide of public sentiment seemingly turning on her, so many of them turned out in such force to support Doja Cat in spite of the backlash. What I gleaned from those short chats is that Twitter’s reach is a lot more limited than it looks from the other side of the screen. Sharra, 28, and Lexi, 27, told me that they didn’t even have Twitter accounts — news of the outrage against Amala hadn’t even reached them. Sharra told me she first found out about Doja Cat with “So High” while Lexi said she’s followed the singer online for years through Instagram instead, joking that Twitter had “too many words. I don’t like to pay attention to what people talking about.”

The ten-year-old from the stage turned out to be Jaden, along for her second concert ever with her mom, Megan, and her sister, Layla, 11. Megan had been a longtime follower from Instagram as well and roped her girls onto the bandwagon. Her daughters told me they loved Doja Cat’s voice and her style. Jaden, despite her bout of stage fright, has her own aspirations to become a singer, a dream fully supported by her mother, who said that she uses the content in the lyrics to talk to her girls about things she knows “they’ll hear anyway” and was peripherally aware of the controversy of the old tweets.

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“I feel like it’s really hard because we’re picked apart and judged for every single thing that we’ve done in the past,” Megan explained. “Now we have our past documented online, but we grow and evolve so much over the years that it’s not fair to throw something we’ve said years ago in our face today. I think that we still have to be held accountable, but a lot of us talk certain ways in private that, once it’s thrown online, can be misconstrued or blown out of proportion.” Megan’s view is one that has been reflected online as well; many outlets have covered the respective dangers of “cancel culture,” while Uproxx’s own Caitlin White is currently publishing a series of essays on Medium about the causes and effects of online trauma, such as the bullying that can occur when “woke shaming” Twitter users pile onto a celebrity or even a regular person for out-of-context or old tweets that speak more to who we were or what those users project onto those tweets.

However, while the echo chamber of online social networks can lead to a false sense of increased cultural homogeneity, where we begin to think everyone in our sphere believes all the same things as us — or should — in reality, the old axiom “different strokes for different folks” holds as true as it ever has. People still learn things at their own pace, and what seems obvious to Aaron or Megan may not seem so much so to Amala. Cancel culture is ugly, but it’s only the dark shadow of the necessary process of online accountability and the sometimes painful learning process online.

With that said, it’s intriguing to note that those “different strokes” can also include opinions that haven’t been touched by the ostensible ubiquity of social media. It would appear that much of the online hand-wringing about “canceling” entertainers for screwing up can only go so far. In the case of someone like Doja Cat, she may have learned a much-needed lesson about how her public comments can be received, but if the real goal truly is to hold everyone accountable for their words and actions, canceling them on Twitter will probably never be the most effective tool. As for Doja, let’s hope she’s learned her lesson, because whether she’s a cat, a cow, or a duck, her clear talent deserves a second chance.

Amala is out now via RCA Records. Get it here.

source https://uproxx.com/hiphop/doja-cat-cancel-culture-live-show-echoplex/

#hiphop #hip hop legend #hip hop history #hip hop #music #trending #hip hop news #ballin #hip hop scen

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deadcactuswalking · 6 years

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REVIEWING THE CHARTS: 18th February 2018

I’m typing this right after watching the BRITs 2018. They were great, with a lot of memorable moments; however it hasn’t impacted the charts yet so I’ll talk about them at a later date. Top ten time.

Top 10

Drake put out a video for “God’s Plan”, hence it stays at the top spot, looking like it won’t have its reign ended very soon.

“These Days” by Rudimental featuring Jess Glynne, Macklemore and Dan Caplen stays put at the runner-up spot, making the top five seem very stale, but not nearly as stale as the US, where it’s been pretty much exactly the same for three weeks.

Going up three spots to the number-three position is “This is Me” by Keala Settle and The Greatest Showman Ensemble, unfortunately.

Number-four however is much more positive, with “IDGAF” by Dua Lipa sticking on like glue to that spot as she has been for quite a while now. I can see this going up because of the BRITs.

The same can’t be said for “Barking” by Ramz, dropping two spaces to number-five, which seems to have made Ramz a one-hit wonder as he has shown no signs of even releasing another single, which he’ll have to because this track has been losing its momentum recently.

At number-six, nearly a year after its release, we have the three-spot increase to “Feel it Still” by Portugal. The Man, and I couldn’t be any more happier. It’s a great song.

At number-seven, “River” by Eminem featuring Ed Sheeran starts to dip lower and lower, by two spots this time, and I don’t see it having a rebound.

Our only new entry to the top ten is number-eight, “For You (Fifty Shades Freed)” by Liam Payne and Rita Ora, banking off the success of the movie by 10 positions.

· Sadly, Cardi B’s remix of Bruno Mars’ “Finesse” goes down another two spots to number-nine. At least this looks like it could top the US charts... I hope.

· And finally, to round off the top ten, we have “Breathe” by Jax Jones featuring Ina Wroldsen going up a singular spot. Talking about going up, here are our gainers.

Gainers

Whew, talk about a stiff week! Naturally, we have the Black Panther hype carrying “All the Stars” by Kendrick Lamar and SZA up 17 spots to barely missing the top ten at #11, and also, “Let Me Go” by Hailee Steinfeld, Alesso, Florida Georgia Line and Watt having a nine-space increase to #30... but that’s it.

Fallers

The story isn’t too different for the two fallers even worth mentioning, “I Know You” by Craig David featuring Bastille down six spaces to #18, and NF barely holding onto the charts with “Let You Down” dropping five spaces to #40. Otherwise, nothing here that’s deserving of a mention.

Dropouts

“Decline” by RAYE featuring Mr. Eazi drops out from #20, good riddance. I’m pretty sure “No Words” by Dave featuring MoStack is gone from #21 as well. “Naked” by James Arthur is also nowhere to be seen after its disappearance from the #30 spot so that’s fortunate. “Filthy” by Justin Timberlake also drops out from #34 after the album rebound so no complaints here. Will there be complaints with the new arrivals? Let’s have a look, shall we?

NEW ARRIVALS

#39 – “Wild Love” – James Bay

I’ve never been too big of a fan of James Bay, but he’s never disappointed me. We can probably chalk that up to not having any expectations to begin with, but has his newest single swayed my opinion on the guy? Well, no, not exactly. It starts with those pitched-up vocal samples that people seem to enjoy these days, leading into a verse from James that just seems rather odd, with the strings seeming way too dark for the subject matter, mood of the song and especially James’ unfitting triumphant harmonisations. Once the beat starts to develop, it gets more listenable but overall, I can’t get much enjoyment out of this right now. Sorry for the shorter and less to-the-point review of this song, but my initial reaction was just a subtle head-jerk as it never gets any weirder despite it seemingly wanting to be a darker, stranger song. I mean, listen to that guitar solo that’s basically hidden in the background! Is it even in tune? Who knows? You can’t freaking hear it! This may grow on me and if it crosses over, knowing how long most of Bay’s work has to wait before it clicks with me, it might make my best list out of weirdness alone. This is... okay right now, but I can imagine myself enjoying this a lot more when Winter comes around. The synth in the final chorus is great, though, and I do enjoy the warbling vocal effect on James’ voice. For now, I don’t really have a final consensus on this. See you in February 2019, James Bay.

#37 – “Mine” – Bazzi

Of course, as charts work in the streaming era, memes are going to pop up somewhat frequently, but this is the first meme song that we’ve seen so far and to be honest with you, I kind of love it. The watered-down synth in the beginning and reverb-affected drums give this a tropical vaporwave vibe which I really enjoy, with Bazzi’s singing being best described as cute. This fittingly sounds like an Instagram filter turned into music, and I’m not bothered by this. The lyrics are also a nice bait-and-switch, and even the faux-rapping in the second verse is enjoyable. There’s an 8-bit noise in the chorus that acts as both a record scratch and build-up, and that’s a really nice little addition that really shows some great attention to detail here. I hope this sticks around post-meme, because this is great.

#23 – “Look Alive” – BlocBoy JB featuring MrBeast

God, this is the week for returns and debuts to the charts, huh? Despite this, these artists aren’t getting their buzz due to legitimate quality, they’re just getting it off of name recognition and, more importantly, Twitter memes. Also, BlocBoy JB sounds like a rip-off Mega Bloks figure. So, is the track worth listening to despite Drake’s non-presence of a rapper? I mean, it’s okay, I suppose. It’s just a by-the-numbers trap beat for BlocBoy and more importantly, Drake – who takes up most of the track, to spit on. Nobody brings any interesting or quality lyricism, and Drake’s delivery is as boring as ever. I do have a lot to say about BlocBoy, though, and his megaphone-effect ad-libs. His verse isn’t anything worth of discussion other than having a decent flow, but his Travis Scott-turned-mellow ad-libs are pretty hilarious, if not just straight-up cool. The piano melody isn’t too bad, either, and I’m glad it has some room to be shown off in the outro. It’s decent, but not something I’d go back to, and overall, just lacking of energy. This doesn’t sound alive at all.

#19 – “Friends” – Marshmello and Anne-Marie

I hate both of these artists. They have made no good songs in their career from what I’ve heard, and are simply there to fill up chart space. This song, however, I will give to them. It starts with a slick Latin guitar melody for Anne-Marie to sassily faux-rap and sing over, showing her personality much more than her solo stuff. The more gritty rock synths, gang vocals and trap snares create a very experimental pop track that is honestly freaking awesome. I’m just sitting here in amazement at how good this pre-chorus is, as well as the hook itself. They both bleed colour and liveliness, despite the relatively muted and droning instrumentation. The final chorus has a G-funk bass and synth, throwing everything else out the window for an Adina Howard-sounding moment that leaves me quite entertained. The profanity being bleeped out is silly and could have been done away with, but it’s only done once so it’s not that much of a bother. Check this out!

Conclusion

Stiff but strange chart this week, with little movement but some great and outright confusing moments in the new arrivals. I’m glad the BRITs will shake stuff up, but I’m not really complaining about the charts right now, they’re in a pretty good place, despite it not looking very alive, so to speak. Best of the Week goes to “Mine” by Bazzi, because who doesn’t love a traditional love song turned meme? Honourable Mention obviously goes to “Friends” by Marshmello and Anne-Marie but nothing here is bad enough to be given a negative title. I hope to see you again next week for a BRITs edition of Reviewing the Charts, but for now, see ya!

Bad things / It’s a lot of bad things that they wishin’ and wishin’ / And wishin’ and wishin’, they wishin’ on me, ayy.

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