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morbidly-malicious-muffins · 4 years

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What Kind of Music Slashers Would Vibe to Headcanons♪

This little thing popped into my head. Fyi, the canon timelines are thrown out the window for this so... Yeah.

Bring forth the bop~

RZ Michael Myers

"Let my weapons be your children, let my armies be your damned. Try to suffer on in silence, try to stop me if you can." --- This Cold Black by Slipknot

I think he'd really enjoy metal in general. I can totally see him unknowingly stomping to some Marilyn Manson and Meshuggah, though the lyrics and message probably will just fly over his head.

He listens to some heavy shit, but probably all the more mainstream bands/artists.

The loudness and organized chaos of the genre fills the void in his soul and reflects the state of his mind, despite his stoic and non-verbal outer demeanor.

Someone please do everyone a favor and introduce Michael to some death metal. Admit it, it really fits his aesthetic.

This is just based on speculation, but I suspect a 70% possibility of RZ Michael resonating with Cannibal Corpse. Fight me.

He hates classical music with a burning passion. Back in Smith's Grove, they played Bach's Air Sul G on tap. (its canon in the first movie lmao) He hates it. Mikey no likey.

Freddy Krueger

"No stop signs, speed limit, nobody's gonna slow me down. Like a wheel, gonna spin it, nobody's gonna mess me around." --- Highway to Hell, by AC/DC

Freddy listens to classic rock, period.

This guy is ngl a supporter of music taste discrimination. You listen to pop? Disgusting. You listen to Jazz? Disgusting. Classic rock is the epitome of all music.

He'll call you music-related slurs you never knew existed.

As stubborn adamant as Freddy is, he does harbor some guilty pleasures, including 70's hair metal and glam rock. Pshh. What a heckin hypocrite.

Some of his all time favorites are Guns N' Roses, Led Zeppelin, Van Halen, and AC/DC.

(Basic bitch)

*Hip thrust movements to go with his 'The Sprinkler' dance moves, Welcome to the Jungle by Guns N' Roses blasting in the background*

OG Michael Myers

He doesn't listen to music, but if he did, he would probably enjoy Jazz.

Michael only listens to Miles Davis because he enjoys his music and can't be bothered to discover more artists.

Oml Michael I know Miles Davis is amazing but don't neglect other iconic artists plzzz. Someone please make him listen to some Teddy Wilson and/or Dave Brubeck.

I imagine him sitting stiff-straight on a rocking chair (he just likes how it moves), knife in his lap, rocking and zoning-out relaxing to 'Blue in Green'. (I love that piece)

#AfterHeFinallyKillsLaurie

#RetirementGoals

He also hates classical music because of the same reason as RZ Myers. Seriously, if either of them so much as hears the opening chord of Air Sul G, expect the speaker to be stomped to a pulp in a split second.

Bubba Sawyer

Alright let's all be honest with ourselves... 70's pop and country is Bubba's shit.

Look me in the face and tell me he wouldn't adore ABBA, The Jackson 5, and Dolly Parton. Thats right you can't

Everytime 'Dancing Queen' starts playing on the radio, Bubba will drop everything and start busting down.

Ain't nothing and nobody stoppin him. Drayton is powerless against the supreme sovereignty that is ABBA.

But let's also appreciate the fact that our Bubster can motherfuckin get down. *wipes sweat from forehead + heart eyes*

He would also do passionate lip sync with his heart and soul, to Dolly Parton's 'I Will Always Love You'.

50% chance of him starting to cry right after he finishes his earnest performance.

*Holding Bubba in your arms, rubbing comforting circles on his back as he bawls hysterically, incoherently babbling on about how much he loves you*

I also feel for some reason he'd really like Joan Jett & The Blackhearts.

Thomas Hewitt

"For one moment, I wish you'd hold your stage, with no feelings at all. Open minded, I'm sure I used to be so free." --- Citizen Erased by Muse

Y'know what I have a hard time imagining the type of music Tommy listens to. Kutos, Mr. Hewitt, you have defeated me.

siKE

(This is where I yeet the timeline out of the window y'all)

Thomas enjoys Muse, Evanescence, and Radiohead. (Fight me)

He just loves how emotional their songs are. He'd have one earbud in as he works away at his projects for hours. The music helps him concentrate, it is also a source of emotional support to him.

Hearing the heart-wretching lyrical content of 'Lost in Paradise' performed so beautifully by Amy Lee's angellic voice is really comforting to him. It's like hearing about another person's experiences. It makes him feel less alone in dealing with his emotional and mental turmoils and burdens.

The first time Thomas heard 'Creep' by Radiohead, he almost cried.

He also listens to My Chemical Romance sometimes. He only knows the Black Parade album, but he loves it. If 'Creep' didn't make him cry, listening to that entire album from top to bottom sure did. He started sobbing half-way through 'Famous Last Words'.

Tommy is emotional boi 🥺

Brahms Heelshire

C l a s s i c a l

No matter how stinky Brahms is, you can't tell me that he's not classy.

Schubert is his bitch. Schubert's style tends to be quite majestic and/or dreamy, (generally) and can change color/sound very abruptly yet appropriately. (This is just my opinion based on experience with Schubert's pieces, but then I only know his piano pieces soo) (let's still cue that maestoso to scherzando transition)

But of course, Schubert isn't the only thing he listens to. He prefers the romantic period, so Mendelssohn, Rachmaninoff, Chopin, Shostakovich, Brahms, Schumann, you get the gist, all the staples. Oh yeah Elgar too. To be a proud English lad.

*Brahms swaying in the living room with the grace of a baby giraffe, engrossed in the beautiful melodies in Schumann's Kinderszenen.*

(Oml please check out 'Von fremden Landern und Manschen' and 'Kind im Einschlummern') (For those who play piano, they aren't that difficult too totally recommend) (Ok sorry I'm done now)

Brahms would totally waltz around alone to Chopin's waltzes and nocturnes.

Oh yeah apart from that classy shit, he likes to jam to meme songs.

"Hey now, you're an all star, get your game on, go play---"

*cut to Brahms passionately fortnite dancing*

Listens to The Strange Man Who Sings About Dead Animals for a good laugh. (Please, all of his songs are gold)

Vincent Sinclair

He'll have 'emo' and 'classical' with a side of metal, thanks.

I headcanon that Vinny McWaxy is an INFJ, so the boy is likely prone to crippling existentialism. It would make sense for some aspects of his music taste to reflect that.

*cut to Vincent sitting rock-still on his workbench/stool, hands hover in mid-air, staring straight ahead, some John Cage piece playing*

You'll never hear this from Vincent but he enjoys sexy-time music. He has this whole erotic playlist he listens to while working. (Boy likes to feel sexy on the job, I respect that.)

I think its pretty much canon that Vinny loves MCR. (Hello fellow emo piece of shit 👋) His favorites are everything by them really. A hardcore fan. He used to have MCR, P!ATD, and 30 Seconds to Mars posters plastered everywhere in his workshop until he had to remove them all to add to the intimidation factor of his waxy hell for passer-bys. For the record, he is very gay for Frank Iero.

On the metal part of his spectrum is mostly classic metal, groove metal, and thrash/heavy metal.

Rammstein, Pantera, Vildhjarta, new and old Metallica, Dream Theatre, Coheed and Cambria. His bitches.

He also uses music to scare victims when bringing them down to his workshop. *cue horror movie soundtracks*

*KI KI KI MA MA MA*

Is a whore for the dramatics when in a good mood.

*Lacrimosa by Mozart plays as he makes a point to bring the wax painfully slowly down toward a drowsy and petrified victim*

A lament for your upcoming death, pitiful human.

Bo Sinclair

"The day has come for all us sinners, if you're not a servant you'll be struck to the ground." -- Beast and The Harlot by Avenged Sevenfold

Bastard boy is into dad-music™. (same)

Dad rock, classic rock, pop punk, punk rock, old school pop, his shit.

He listens to a lot of the same bands as Freddy, but Bo (generally) doesn't discriminate and explores a more diverse variety of music.

Its a fandom canon that Bo loves Avenged Sevenfold. I totally agree.

A7x is the perfect amount of cynical, political, and shred for Beauregard, (I hc that ge hates his full name so plz don't ever call him Beauregard)

He listens to the radio whenever he's at work. Whatever that might be.

Will NEVER admit it, but he thinks Vinny's music taste is dope as hell.

He'll turn off the radio just to strain his ears to listen to Vincent's music downstairs. No one will ever know that though. You don't.

Actually likes classical music too. Its not one of his main genres but there's one piece he really likes, Second Movement of Shostakovich Piano Concerto No. 2 in F Major.

He never thought he'd enjoy this type of music. Its so.... Calm. He discovered that piece from Vinny's playlist. When he first heard it on his brother's speaker, he fell in love. It was one of the extremely rare cases in which he'd be committed enough to ask Vinny the name of the music.

Tiny shuffle for man-kind, huge fuckin step for Bo. Good job Bo, we're proud of you.

Also pleeeeeaaase message me or request stuff, I'm bored and have little inspiration 🦊

I might do a pt2 of this, since I didn't write many of the boys and gals🤷‍♀️

Also sorry if I've neglected some genres/artists (Like i've neglected non-piano classical pieces.... Bc ya girl is just a pianist), a person can't know everything😗

---Zali 🖤

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hitozy · 3 years

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her love language ≪ masterlist ≫ see you soon!

The night before he leaves for Brazil, Hinata finds himself in YN’s new apartment in Tokyo. His flight was early in the morning and since YN was the one that bought his ticket there…

Her place was pretty nice actually, it felt like YN. Rich, pretty and warm.

“Baby, I’m home!” Huh? He hears a little pitter patter and as the sound grows louder so does the carrier.

“YOU GOT A DOG?!”

YN laughs as she picks up the puppy, “Yep, daddy thought I’d feel less lonely with him around. Meet King Charles,” she hold him out so that I can pet him, King licks my fingers and wiggles in YN’s arms, “he's an 5 month old dalmatian!” Hinata takes KC from YN’s hands and cuddles him as the puppy licks his face and neck, “He is so cute, princess, but uh, I'm calling him King or KC for short.”

“You have my permission. But everyone else has to call him King Charles, I expect nothing less.” Hinata smiles at her comment, he’d guess that for her, this puppy was her baby and she demanded the same respect she receives directed towards him.

YN gave him a tour around her place, eventually showing him ‘his room’.

”Um... whos stuff is this?” He points at the watches and products in the room. ”Ah, Daddy must’ve forgotten to take these with him last week. Don’t worry, you can use whatever you want.” He felt a sting in his heart, hearing that her father came to stay at her apartment, he must be feeling very lonely without his only child there. “Ynnie... why aren't you living with your dad anymore?” “Daddy sold the house.”

“What? Are you guys ok? CAN YOU AFFORD THIS PLACE?”

YN laughs at his outburst, “Relax! Let me explain! A few years ago my dad had a relationship with a, and I mean it in the nicest way possible, a gold digger. It was pretty nasty towards the end and - stop doing that face, their relationship isn't like ours!”

“Miss. Princess, it kinda sounds like-” “Let me finish, please.”

Hinata stays quiet while playing with KC, “She was always in it for the money, pumpkin. She lied to me and my dad, she stole things from our house, she stole things that belonged to my mom…” Hinata knew that YN’s mom had passed away during childbirth (he did some research after a year of being around her), he still found it touching to hear her mention her, because she never did, “Anyway! She stole a ton of stuff without consent and since she was only his girlfriend she didn't have permission to look into our accounts, which she did. The house brought bitter memories for us so he refurbished the house and donated it to a youth center. Since he’s been traveling a lot this year we figured he could stay with me when he’s here until things calm down.” “How does that make me different from her?” “I-...” she stays quiet for a while, probably trying to find the right words, she silently slides beside him and bops KC’s nose, “You don’t want me to spoil you, but you accept it because you know that's my way of saying ‘i love you’ without really saying it.” “Yeah” “Yeah”

Ding dong. "Pizza’s here!”

After eating until they felt like balls of fat, YN told him to take a shower and meet in her room for movies. He was met with the cutest image ever, he had to take a picture of it. YN in bed, surrounded by pillows and blankets with KC jumping around the bed. As he entered, KC barked happily at him, excited to see his new friend. She smiled at him and patted her side, encouraging him to get in.

As soon as he was under the blanket, YN snuggled up to him and gave him the remote, “You choose.”

Ever since that kiss, YN had been a lot more touchy feely with him. She would cuddle up to him any chance she would get and hold his hand when they were out or whenever she wanted. At first she would hesitate but as time went by she noticed how ‘inexpressive’ he was about it, she just went ahead and did it. He was actually having a war in his head because ‘I shouldn’t lead her on’ but ‘I don’t want her to go’ kept on playing on his mind.

He propped his arm around her shoulders and let himself become her pillow, “I’m thinking 101 dalmatians, what do you think KC?” KC barked in agreement, “aight, lets do it.”

As the night moved forward, KC fell asleep in the weirdest position behind YN. It had been a couple of hours since the movie finished, but neither one of them had wanted to go to sleep yet. They watched a few other movies until they just left it as background and talked instead. As her laughter continued he watched her, the abandoned movie illuminating her face, giving her a slight glow.

Hinata felt his heart clench and before he processed it, “Can I kiss you?” YN stared at him, laughter gone, “I-im sorry, I did-” “Kiss me, Shoyo.” He felt her hand caress his cheek. “Go ahead and kiss me.” He leaned in and practically smashed their faces in, YN giggled, “You’re eager.” “‘M sorry” he was so embarrassed as he started to push himself away.

YN held his face in her hands. “Lets try it again, yeah?” “Yeah”

She brought their faces close and she pressed her lips softly against his. She angled her face and slotted their lips together in a slow rhythm. As she continued their slow kiss, he pushed her back against the bed and let his upper half lay on top of her, resting all of his body weight on his forearms encasing her head. He moved one of his hands down, to caress the sliver of exposed skin on her hip, as a result she gasped and it was enough for him to slip his tongue inside her mouth. He groaned at the feeling, it had been more than two years since the last time he had kissed her and he didn’t know how he lasted that long. He felt almost feverish as she combed his hair, her fingers reached the base of his neck, pulling him closer.

He detached his lips from hers, “I’m gonna miss you, you know that right?”

She smiled at him, “I know, and you know that I’m gonna visit you as soon as I can, right?” “You better or else I’m going to cry.”

She snorted and mushed his cheeks together, “Aw my poor cry-baby pumpkin.” “Hmph… when you do visit me, bring KC with you, I bet he’ll love the beach.” “I will.” “I’m going to become better YN, for me. I’m going to get better and get results.” About life, volleyball and us.

She held out her pinky, “Promise?”

He linked his pinky to hers, kissing the back of her hand, “Promise.”

her love language ≪ masterlist ≫ see you soon!

facts:

➜ Dalmatian’s spots are unique! Its similar to a snowflake or a humans finger print. ➜ No one knows where exactly they come from, their origin is a mystery. ➜ They became popular after the movie ‘101 Dalmatians’ but people couldn’t handle how energetic they are and more than 80% were sent back to the pound. (I wanna punch these assholes :)) ➜ King Charles is YN’s first pet and companion. On their first meeting she met his eyes and fell in love. They’ve been together for a month. ➜ YN calls Hinata ‘Your dad’ at King Charles, Hinata doesn’t know it yet... OOPS. A/N: Look, adding King Charles was fully self indulgence and I am not even gonna apologize. Enjoy this fluffy baby just like his mom and dad do. Also, dalmatians are cute af and no one talks about it.

taglist ➜ open! send an ask to be added ღ

@mint-mai . @prettyinblack231 . @starryleafy . @ilauvcoldpizza . @its-the-aerieljeane . @daddy-kawa . @aizumii @pansexualproblemchild

#hinata shoyo #hinata smau #hinata fic #hinata shoyo x reader #hinata shouyou #hinata shouyo #hinata shouyou x reader #hinata shouyo x reader #sweet tangerine #sweet tangerine♥

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hermionegranger56 · 3 years

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a v late recap of evermore

so i think Taylor Swift sensed that i was Going Through It and was like here you sad bitch, here’s another surprise album to help fix all that. cause good lord evermore is just what i (and i think we all) needed. i truly TRULY can’t believe we’re lucky enough to get a sister album to folklore, i love it so much. the first day it was out i drove myself 2 hours to the very end of the Cape and sat on an empty beach and cried to it and honestly??? magical. here are my thoughts on it that no one asked for:

first, as an overall here, this album complements folklore so well. it’s the spring to folklore’s autumn, it’s self-assured and warm and beautiful. each album shows off her lyrical genius so well and she only grows stronger here. when folklore came out, i was floored because the music was so different for her and so up my alley. each song’s production sucked me in and it was like she was confidently telling us “here is another genre i can work with” (masterfully at that). evermore feels different. it feels like Taylor is so comfortable in this creative space, she isn’t trying to fit into any new molds or expectations, she is just HERE, now, saying “this is who i am and this is my craft”. it’s really been a privilege to watch her grow as an artist. ok. here we go

willow:

god the video was so beautiful, a really good continuation of cardigan. the chorus is so so delicate and prettyyy, thats MY MAN ughhh its so good. it reminds me a lot of invisible string tbh, or if betty from cardigan grew up and found love. this is really one of my favorites, she starts so strong

fave lines: “the more that you say, the less i know/ wherever you stray I follow/ i’m begging for you to take my hand/ wreck my plans, that’s my man”; “life was a willow and it bent right to your wind”

champagne problems:

oh dear god, it’s if all too well and new years day had a baby and it is a MASTERPIECE. i can picture it all, college sweethearts, broken hearts, i feel like its new england at christmas, ivy league old money…its cinematic. and it gets at the feeling like you’ll never be good enough so you leave before that happens (basically before you get to the tolerate it stage??) and OOF. AND GODDAMN THE RANTING BRIDGE (illicit affairs came close on folklore but i think THIS might be the best bridge since All Too Well). I’ve screamed it a lot tbh

fave lines: BRIDGE BABYYYYYY EVERY SINGLE PERFECT WORD. WHAT A SHAME SHES FUCKED IN THE HEADDDD

gold rush:

this one is bright and lovely and catchy!! it reminds me a lot of mirrorball tbh, all like swirly and magical. i can’t even put it into words but i can see this one so clearly. its all rosy and golden

fave lines: “eyes like sinking ships on waters/ so inviting, i almost jump in”; “what must it be like to grow up that beautiful?/with your hair falling into place like dominoes/ I see me padding across your wooden floors/ with my Eagles t-shirt hanging from your door”; “the coastal town we wandered round/ had never seen a love as pure as it”; “my mind turns your life into folklore”

’tis the damn season:

UGH I FUCKING LOVE THIS ONE EVEN THOUGH IT MAKES ME WANNA TEXT MY EX. the melody is SOOOO satisfying, the progression to “write this down”, i’m obsessed. the idea of being home for the holidays and feeling a little lost and tired and nostalgic for what could have been is something superrrr relatable. this song reminds me of snowy drives around my hometown in the best/worst possible way hahah. one of my top 5 for sure.

fave lines: “we could call it even/ you could call me babe for the weekend/ tis the damn season, write this down/i’m staying at my parents house/ and the road not taken looks real good now”; “and wonder about the only soul/ who can tell which smiles i’m faking”

tolerate it:

oh honeyyyyy this track 5 packs a punch, i mean the lyrics are absolutely BRUTAL in the best way. it’s just so sad, and encompasses a lot of my own insecurity about always feeling like you’re more invested in a relationship and watching someone fall out of love or just stop caring. i LOVE the “my love should be celebrated, but you tolerate it”, like bitch YES your love should be celebrated. also taylor sounds angelic on the “I” at the start of the chorus

fave lines: “i know my love should be celebrated/ but you tolerate it”; “i made you my temple, my mural, my sky/ now i’m begging for footnotes in the story of your life”; “what would you do if I/break free and leave us in ruins/ took this dagger in me and removed it”

no body, no crime:

YESSSSSSSSS I LOVE THE SUBGENRE OF COUNTRY ABOUT WOMEN KILLING SHITTY HUSBANDS AND THIS SONG IS SO FUCKING GOOD AHHHHH!! I LOVE the beat, i love country taylor, i love the addition of HAIM. UGH ITS SO CATCHYYYY, like i’m obsessed with the slide from “i think he did it but i just. can’t. prove itttttt NOOO no body no crime” UGHHH this is without a doubt in my top five

fave lines: “she thinks i did it but she just can’t prove it”

happiness:

I heard this one described as an emotional marathon and holy shit it is, each line is a sucker punch. i really like how it feels like a conversation and looks at the acceptance and pain that mingle together when a relationship just…ends. her lyrics are unmatched on this album but this is a particularly strong track

fave lines: “i haven’t met the new me yet”; “when did all our lessons start to look like weapons/ pointed at my deepest hurt”; “there is a glorious sunrise/ dappled with the flickers of light/ from the dress i wore at midnight”

dorothea:

this one feels like Betty 2.0 and its so sweet and bright and also kinda sad. it’s wistful!! that’s the word i want, wistful! the vibe is gives off reminds me of Red, like musically. it’s home-y. idk if that makes sense but i like it a lot

fave lines: and if you’re ever tired of being known for who you know/ you know, you’ll always know me”

coney island:

ugh this one is magical, i honestly really love the instrumental to this one, it’s so soothing. the lyrics to me feel like you’re in some dream state, going through every heartbreak you’ve ever been through. I love the addition of The National, the vocals fit together so well (and I like it better than both Bon Iver features i think??)

fave lines: do you miss the rogue/ who coaxed you into paradise and left you there/ will you forgive my soul/ who you’re too wise to trust me and too old to care?”

ivy:

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH (that’s how i feel about this absolute masterpiece oh my GOD) it makes me so incandescently happy, the folk feel, the lyrics that are so cinematic and poetic and paint such a clear picture (to me) of two Victorian lovers who are in unhappy marriages but don’t let that stop their love. the chorus just like….fills my whole chest, the OH GODDAMN hits so different. and i want “my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand” tattooed on me, that is one of her BEST lines and i will die on that hill. its all so pretty, i can’t deal. the vibe also strongly reminds me of a) invisible string and b) Little Women (2019). i think taylor should do folk and uhhhh only folk please

fave lines: EVERY WORD BUT ESPECIALLY: “i’d meet you where the spirit meets the bone/ in a faith forgotten land”; “oh goddamn/ my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand/ taking mine, but its been promised to another/ oh, i can’t/ stop you putting roots in my dreamland/ my house of stone, your ivy grows/ and now I’m covered in you”; “he wants what’s only yours”; “clover blooms in the field/ springs breaks loose, time is near“; ”so yeah, it’s a fire/ its a goddamn blaze in the dark and you started it”

cowboy like me:

ALL RIGHT everyone sleeps on this song but oh my GOD its so good!! it’s smooth and dreamy and gives me that old fashioned, bonnie and clyde type love story and some of the lyrics are so poetic. I really love the addition of the Tim McGraw chords too???? BUT DEAR GOD COULD WE HAVE GIVEN MARCUS MUMFORD MORE OF A ROLE HERE??!! HE SOUNDS WONDERFUL, GIVE HIM A FEATURE, GIVE HIM A WHOLE VERSE. THIS IS A FOLK ALBUM TAYLOR, USE FUCKING MUMFORD AHHHH (i fucking love him omg)

fave lines: “dancin’ is a dangerous game”; “you’re a bandit like me/ eyes full of stars”; “now you hang from my lips/ like the Gardens of Babylon/ with your boots beneath my bed/ forever is the sweetest con”

long story short:

A BOP!! GIVE ME SOME HAPPINESS TAYLOR WOO! I really love how catchy this one is. it feels like her introducing the craziness of her life to joe and being like look all of that was tough but here i am now and I couldn’t be happier. It’s refreshing, self-deprecating and endearing. I couldn’t love it more and it is ALWAYS stuck in my head!

fave lines: “and he’s passing by/ rare as the glimmer of a comet in the sky”; “long story short I survived”

marjorie:

ha hahah hah ha this one ENDS me, like dear LORD i need to call my grandma immediately. it is so so GOOD and SAD, like the you don’t know how good something or someone is until they’re gone, but even then, they’re still there with you. I love the grandma wisdom of “never be so clever you forget to be kind” etc. and holy SHIT the addition of Taylor’s grandmother’s opera singing as background vocals is GENIUS AND DEVASTATING, god the part where she goes “i’d think you were singing with me now” and then Marjorie comes in is honestly one of the most beautiful musical moments i’ve heard in a hot minute and it breaks me every time. wow.

fave lines: “never be so polite/ you forget your power/ never wield such power/ you forget to be polite”; “the autumn chill that wakes me up/ you loved the amber sky so much”; “and if i didn’t know better/ i’d think you were singing to me now”

closure:

ok i’m sorry, this is my only skip here. I really do love the lyrics and the idea of, yeah no you don’t deserve closure from me. i just can’t get past the pots and pans beginning, its too chaotic. but i’m sure it’ll grow on me! it does feel like finally moving on and i do love that about it

fave lines: “don’t treat me like/ some situation that needs to be handled”; “i know i’m just a/ wrinkle in your new life/ staying friends would/ iron it out so nice”

evermore:

god her voice is SO soothing in this one, it’s literally hypnotic. the song itself feels wandering and dark at first, like you’re stuck in this depression, and then bon iver comes in and it picks up and it feels like coming out of the trees, into the sunlight and finding your way again. finding that the pain WOULDNT be for evermore like she says. it feels like an ending and a beginning. beautiful

fave lines: “writing letters/ addressed to the fire”; “and when i was shipwrecked/ i thought of you/ in the cracks of light/ i dreamed of you”; “and i was catching my breath/ floors of the cabin creaking under my step/ and i couldn’t be sure/ i had a feeling so peculiar/ this pain wouldn’t be for evermore”

#taylor swift #evermore #tswift #evermore album #willow #champagne problems

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kaylorrehabcenter · 3 years

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Gold Rush and Happiness are Sisters

Gather round everyone and witness the clown try to prove that Taylor Swift wrote songs about a married (now pregnant) woman in the year of our lord 2020.

Also this is a seven page doc in my google docs so like. Get a cup of tea and some popcorn.

Ok full disclosure this is…..mostly me clowning. Like seriously. Don’t take my words as the word of God, this is just my interpretation and how I listen to the songs. And as a (former? Idk man) Kaylor I’m going to want to make these songs about my ship. Acknowledge your biases kids.

Also like. I change my mind a lot, but for a while this theory that Gold Rush and Happiness are connected has been stuck in my head and I wanted to write it down and post it in case anyone else got something out of this.

If you read my last post on Gold Rush (here!) you’ll know I don’t think of it as a happy song. To elaborate further- I think it’s Taylor catching herself looking back on Karlie/that time in her life (Because I think Karlie is emblematic of the 1989 era for Taylor and is thus tied to the pain that came out of that, along with her ties to the masters heist) and reminding herself it wasn’t good and ended for a reason.

“Gleaming, twinkling/eyes like sinking ships on waters/so inviting, I almost jump in”

“But I don’t like a gold rush”

The sinking ship line makes me laugh. I like to think it’s Taylor saying she’s literally sunk our (dead) ship, but that’s mostly regressing to 2015 tumblr humur.

To the actual analysis, she almost jumps into these waters, maybe it’s literal (don’t text your ex kids, write a bop like closure instead) or maybe it’s more metaphorical. She almost allows herself to think the good times were the only times. Maybe there’s a desire to move back to nyc, capture the magic that she may have felt during the era.

“I don’t like that flying feels like falling till the bone crush”

But that’s the thing. It feels like flying at the time, but it isn’t a feeling that can last. These relationships built on temporary promises (we’re assuming here Taylor was a side thing for Karlie, not that serious and built not to last, even if there were genuine romantic feelings on both sides, which I think there were to some level) won’t last, and will hurt when they do end. At least, this one did.

“Everyone wonders what it would be like to love you”

Everybody wants who she’s singing about and is imagining what it would be like to be with them, they think it would be a fairytale. Hell, Taylor probably thought their relationship would be a fairytale against her better judgement. Karlie is a celebrity and a model no less, yes she has other things going for her (Koding and investments), her brand and her success in the fashion world depends to some degree people desiring and fantasizing about her.

“I don’t like that anyone would die to feel your touch”

The funny thing about that, Taylor’s the only one who knows the pain of that relationship, of being a side thing and never committed to. It’s draining. It's difficult. She isn’t allowing herself to jump into those waters.

“I see me padding across your wooden floor/with my Eagles t shirt hanging on the door”

I point out this line mostly because it feels like a Delicate call back (Echoes of your footsteps on the stairs). Am I reaching though? Probably. Also as someone with parents about the same age as Taylor’s (give or take ten years), I like the Eagles reference. Stream Hotel California for clear skin <3

“At dinner parties, I call you out on your contrarian shit”

Taylor was the first person to call Karlie out on her “I’ve tried!!” bullshit, how cute. <3

Besides this line being very iconic, it also shows to me that Taylor’s been frustrated with Kar even when she was busy giving her heart eyes. She’s a frustrating person to be around even when you are “turning her life into folklore”.

“What must it be like to grow up that beautiful?/With your hair falling into place like dominoes”

Damn that’s a gay couples lines you got there Tay. Wonder if you’re wondering what it must’ve been like for Kar to grow up in the model industry, and all of the pressure and exhilaration that entails. From a male’s perspective ofc.

I also take the dominoes line to be Taylor saying what must’ve it been like to have this easy idyllic childhood. Maybe Taylor is the first time Karlie’s been with a girl outside of a hookup and didn’t have to go through the pain of realizing she was into women until later in life. (Not that that’s not painful, it’s just different, and allows you to have a perfectly straight childhood/teenagerhood)

“And the coastal town we wandered 'round had nеver seen a love as pure as it/And thеn it fades into the gray of my day-old tea/'Cause it could never be”

Maybe this relationship never existed in the way she thought at all. You know Carrie Fischer’s character in When Harry Met Sally and how until she meets the right guy, she spends the whole movie insisting that whatever married guy she’s seeing really loves her!! And he’s gonna leave his wife for her!! That’s what these two songs make me think about, waking up and realizing they were never going to leave their wife, you were projecting this whole story onto someone else, but that doesn’t mean there was no value in what happened.

“And the coastal town we never found will never see a love as pure as it/'Cause it fades into the gray of my day-old tea/'Cause it will never be”

The coastal town seems an obvious Rhode Island reference, to get more specific it reminds me of when Josh and Karlie visited Taylor at her Rhode Island home in 2014 and Josh looks peeved as hell. 1, 2 Also if I remember correctly, enty has a blind where he says there was a huge fight between Josh and Taylor which ended in Taylor not wanting to be around him again. Just interesting to note. (And if anyone has the receipt, please send it my way!)

Taylor may have been projecting this fairytale narrative at the time of being able to make it work, of being friends with Josh even but it didn’t work and the fairytale is left to be folklore, never made real.

The outro is the same as the intro to the song, implying to me that while she’s telling herself it was bad, you weren’t happy, she’s still catching herself missing it and what she had with Karlie. She left a part of her back in New York see, and she can’t stop her mind from retracing old footsteps.

Now, onto how I think Happiness and how I think it connects. I’m about to audition for the national team in the reaching Olympics. Wish me luck. :)

A bit of a preamble though, I don’t take this song ~super~ literally. Depending on what day of the week it is I think it’s probably her divorcee rpg simulator or her closing the book on her ex situationship gf on her own terms ~in a straight way~. So not to discredit this whole ass post but. Take with a grain of salt.

“Honey, when I'm above the trees/I see this for what it is”

See that bold bit? That’s the main connective tissue between these songs. She’s finally woken up and now that she’s this far removed from the relationship she sees what it was. To add to the pain of it all, this is especially potent if you wonder if Karlie gaslit Tay into thinking this wasn’t a big deal, they were just fucking around when Karlie has literal Softest Love Song You Are In Love dedicated to her.

“But now I'm right down in it, all the years I've given/Is just shit we're dividin' up”

This seems to me to be a masters heist reference. Karlie since Lover, is musically tied to this event in Taylor’s life, it’s what I think is keeping Tay from making a clean break from her so to speak.

“Showed you all of my hiding spots/I was dancing when the music stopped”

This seems to be a Rep era/dwoht reference. Yes, Taylor constantly references dancing, but the hiding spots (loved you in secret! you had turned my bed into a sacred oasis!) combined with the dancing when the music stopped (I'd kiss you as the lights went out! Swaying as the room burned down!) brings out the full kaylor clown in me.

“There'll be happiness after you/But there was happiness because of you/Both of these things can be true”

This is probably some of the most gut wrenching lyrics Taylor’s ever written. Damn, imagine having that written about you. Anyway, the point here is the thesis of this whole damn post. Gold Rush is Taylor catching herself daydreaming about the happy parts, and reminding herself about the bad to make her snap out of it. Happiness is her coming to terms that both parts of that relationship were true. Things aren’t that simple.

“Haunted by the look in my eyes/That would've loved you for a lifetime/Leave it all behind”

This feels very Cruel Summer doesn’t it? “I love you ain’t that the worst thing you’ve ever heard?” These lines make this relationship read as two things to me. One, it was very one sided, and Taylor/the narrator, was obviously left behind at the end of it when she was heavily invested into making this work. And 2, it was doomed from the beginning. Again. Big cruel summer energy here.

Or it’s a divorcee rpg simulator 3000. Now with extra glamour and opportunities to dramatically drink wine in dressing gowns.

I don’t have a lot to say about the second verse of the song that. Karlie has a nice smile, Gatsby reference, dig at whoever the next person to take Taylor’s place as a side fling (or a dig at Josh, or a baby reference since that’s what the Gatsby line refers to). The only other thing worthy of note for this post is the line following the Gatsby reference.

“No, I didn't mean that/Sorry, I can't see facts through all of my fury”

is the next line, where she regrets what she just said and admits to saying overly harsh things and overlooking the truth of the matter when she’s angry, which to me feels like a big Afterglow/Me! reference.

“There'll be happiness after me/But there was happiness because of me/Both of these things, I believe”

I think a lot of what Taylor’s doing emotionally in the chorus is legitimizing this relationship for herself. Yeah, Josh and Karlie will have a happy life in Florida with Ivanka and them, but Taylor also made Karlie happy too and she doesn’t want Karlie to forget it.

It reminds me of the way she talks about August, that she genuinely loves James/Karlie, and thinks they have something. But she’s just the pit stop on the commitment highway, and the depth of her feelings for the other person will never be acknowledged. It’s exhausting you know?

“In our history, across our great divide”

“Guilty, guilty reaching out across the sea/That you put between you and me”

Nothing to see here, just a nifty parallel. Karlie doesn’t want wrinkles in her new life see.

“There is a glorious sunrise/Dappled with the flickers of light/From the dress I wore at midnight, leave it all behind/And there is happiness”

This bit (which has some of my favorite imagery in this whole dang album!!!) reminds me of the end of the Wildest Dreams mv where she runs out to the car with the lover following her after the big charade of pretending not to care as much as she does, while knowing you aren’t the one that got picked.

Interestingly, if you look at the shot of the four characters together near the end, the outfits parallel the ones worn by Kar, Tay, and Josh at the 2014 Met Gala. This was of course the one where Tay and Kar got ready together and Karlie proceeded to spend the night with Josh and where Tay just looks. Miserable. (see here!)

The line also parallels Wildest Dreams lyrically.

“Say you'll remember me standing in a nice dress/Staring at the sunset, babe”

Which you know. Worth noting.

The last line (And there is happiness) seems to point to there being happiness in leaving the bad situation just as much as there was happiness in the situation. It’s Time to Go anyone?

“I can't make it go away by making you a villain/I guess it's the price I paid for seven years in Heaven”

A series of thoughts. One, I love the first line where Taylor acknowledges anger isn’t going to make it better. There’s only so much being angry in this situation will do, and it’s not like Taylor’s record is clean here either. (I mean I assume. We know she went psycho on the phone anyway)

Two. Seven years in heaven is both a play on a famous game/turn of phrase (Seven minutes in heaven) but one of the more bold references to Karlie in her whole damn discography. Do I think they’ve been together for seven years straight? Not really. But do I think Taylor saw an opportunity and jumped on it? Yep.

“And I pulled your body into mine/Every goddamn night, now I get fake niceties”

No thoughts head empty this line is a sucker punch and I love it. If anyone needs me I’ll be watching her perform ikywt on the vsfs and crying to yail.

“All you want from me now is the green light of forgiveness”

Oh look! Another Gatsby reference. Or Taylor calling Karlie out on profiting off of her association with Tay after they clearly did not end on good terms. (Folklore themed maternity shoot anyone?) I mean, whatever floats your boat.

A bit on the green light metaphor from Gatsby, because it’s worth noting even if I don’t have much more to say on it here.

“Situated at the end of Daisy’s East Egg dock and barely visible from Gatsby’s West Egg lawn, the green light represents Gatsby’s hopes and dreams for the future. Gatsby associates it with Daisy, and in Chapter 1 he reaches toward it in the darkness as a guiding light to lead him to his goal.”

Yes I copied that from Spark Notes. No I am not sorry. I have an exam tomorrow and I’m writing about a dead ship on a dead social media website. Sometimes we do what we must do.

I love the ending of this song, I really really do, it feels like taking in a breath of air and finally feeling free of the weight you’re carrying. It feels like a final goodbye, like Tay’s getting closure on her own terms and I truly love that for her. Bb’s stepping out into the daylight. <3

There is happiness

In our history, across our great divide

There is a glorious sunrise

Dappled with the flickers of light

From the dress I wore at midnight, leave it all behind

Oh, leave it all behind

Leave it all behind

And there is happiness

So, what was this whole seven page post for then?

Gold Rush and Happiness being connected has been a theory rattling around in my brain for forever and I’ve wanted to write it down for just as long. The tldr of it all is pretty simple, Gold Rush is about her reminiscing about the good parts of Kaylor, and pulling herself out of it, reminding herself it was bad and bad for her. Happiness is her legitimizing the relationship, and moving on while acknowledging there was bad and good in their story. It just took me seven goddamn pages to articulate that.

If you’ve reached the end of this. Damn. Thanks. Go get a snack or something, you deserve it after reading this.

#<3 #hope this entertains y'all like i said been wanting to write it down for a while #hope i explained my points well!!!#kaylor lyrics #kaylor analysis #gold rush analysis #happiness analysis #oh and let me know if the links work!

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jaskierswolf · 3 years

Text

The Christmas Elf (Pt.5/5)

The last part! Geralt arrives in the North Pole. :D Also on AO3!

_______________

Geralt was not happy.

This was mostly due to the fact that Jaskier had forced him into the red scaly doublet and trousers that he’d been wearing the day before. To both their astonishment, the clothes fit Geralt almost perfectly. It was a little tight across the shoulders but that was fine. Geralt would just pull a Jaskier and not do the garment up properly. Jaskier was back in his vibrant green and red ensemble from his home land. He’d tried to convince Geralt to wear a matching outfit, as apparently all the Christmas elves did, but Geralt had refused. They compromised on the duller red doublet from the dragon hunt.

Still Geralt really didn’t enjoy wearing the more flamboyant outfits of his husband. He much preferred it when Jaskier decided to wear his shirts instead. They hung slightly looser on the elf’s form and the tease of dark chest hair peeking out from under the collar never failed to send a rush of warm arousal through Geralt’s body.

“And one last touch!” Jaskier’s laugh chimed like the bells he wore. The elf flicked his wrist and a flurry of snow whipped up in his palm, as it settled a small golden bell appeared on Jaskier’s palm.

“No.” Geralt grunted.

“But dearest! It matches your eyes!” Jaskier pouted.

Geralt glared back at him for less than two seconds before sighing. “Fine.”

Jaskier grinned. “Oh ho ho! I knew you wouldn’t say no, now come here.” Geralt stepped forward, dragging his feet slightly just to make a point. “Oh stop all your grumbling. You look incredibly handsome in my clothes, dearest of hearts.”

Geralt rolled his eyes as Jaskier gently ties the bell around one of his wrists and then brought Geralt’s hand up to his lips. Geralt almost smiled as Jaskier placed a kiss on the palm of his hand.

Almost.

He was still pissed off.

He missed his armour.

“There.” Jaskier beamed up at him and he felt his sour expression soften under his lover’s gaze. “Beautiful.”

“Jask.” He groaned as he felt the heat of embarrassment on his cheeks.

Jaskier bopped him on the nose. “Beautiful, lovely and gorgeous.” Jaskier insisted and cupped his cheek, pulling him into a tender kiss. “Are you ready?”

Geralt frowned as he glanced over a Pegasus. “Are you sure he can carry both of us?”

Jaskier scoffed with a wave of his hand. “He’s a magic reindeer, Geralt. Have a little faith.”

Geralt hummed, not convinced. Pegasus was at least fully grown these days. When Jaskier had first arrived on the reindeer back when they’d first met, he’d been barely old enough for Jaskier to ride. Even with Jaskier’s Spirit they would have to break frequently or go slowly as Jaskier walked instead of rode.

These days Pegasus was a fine mount, for a reindeer. He was no Roach and the antlers occasionally got in the way of Jaskier seeing properly but Geralt had grown rather fond of the beast.

“You’re up front?” Geralt asked as they both approached the reindeer.

Jaskier shrugged. “There’s not much steering involved. He knows where he’s going better than I do. Plus I rather like the view from the back.” He winked and pinched Geralt’s arse.

Geralt closed his eyes and sighed. “You’re up front.” He repeated.

“Oi! What? No!” Jaskier pouted. “Geralt!”

Geralt smirked. “I rather like the view from the back.”

Jaskier flushed brighter than his hat, despite the fact they’d been together for over two decades. It was for this exact reason that Geralt didn’t flirt back very often. He enjoyed seeing Jaskier get flustered for a change and he didn’t want the effect to get old.

Jaskier let out a string of noises and fumbled to get up on his reindeer. Geralt chuckled but pulled himself up behind the bard, placing a kiss on the back of his neck as they both settled. Jaskier leaned back against him with a contented sigh.

“Hold on tight, my love.” He sang and then pulled the small snow globe from his pocket. There was a sudden chill in the air as Jaskier pulled the Spirit from the glow and then showered glitter over Pegasus’s antlers. “Come on, Pegasus.” He cooed at the reindeer.

And then they were flying.

Geralt wrapped his arms around Jaskier’s waist and buried his face against the elf’s back. “Fuck. This is worse than portals.” He groaned.

“Pfft.” Jaskier snorted. “You are such a bore sometimes, love.” Geralt jabbed Jaskier between the ribs and then ran his hand gently over the same spot. “Oi!” Jaskier squeaked.

Geralt just grunted, feeling a little too nauseous to answer.

Jaskier sighed and began to sing one of his favourite Christmas carols to fill the silence as the stars began to fly in the sky above them. The temperature dropped dramatically as they flew and Geralt’s medallion was practically yanking off its chain by the time Pegasus’s hooves hit the floor.

Geralt wrapped his arms around his chest as he jumped to the floor. Snow crunched underfoot and there seemed to be a constant gentle flurry of snowflakes falling from the sky.

“Shit. It’s fucking freezing!” He grumbled. “Should have brought my cloak.”

Jaskier tilted his head and glanced around them before dismounting. He scratched Pegasus behind the ears absentmindedly. “It’s not that bad.”

“Yes. It is.” Geralt glowered at him. “Fucking elves.”

Jaskier punched him in the arm and muttered something. “Melitele’s tits, you are grumpy today. This is my home, Geralt!”

Geralt grunted. “Sorry.”

“I know.” Jaskier kissed his cheek and ran a finger through his hair, twirling one of the loose strands. “Now let’s see what I can do about the cold. Bear with me though, making clothes was never my talent.”

Geralt frowned as Jaskier closed his eyes and stuck his tongue between his lips. Jaskier hummed as he wove magic around Geralt. Geralt smiled fondly at the bard. He had a soft spot in his heart for Jaskier’s concentrating face. It was adorable the way his tongue peeked between Jaskier’s soft pink lips, not that Geralt would ever admit to finding it adorable… cute maybe at a push after a few pints of ale. Geralt shivered slightly as glitter rained over his head and he suddenly found a long heavy cloak round his shoulders…in buttercup yellow.

He tied the cloak swiftly and pulled up the hood before turning to fix his husband with an exasperated look. Jaskier smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. I got distracted by your eyes.”

Geralt huffed but pulled the elf into a slow kiss. When they pulled apart Jaskier snuggled up against his chest and wrapped his arms around Geralt’s waist, inside the cloak. “You ok?”

Jaskier nodded. “I just want them to like you.”

Geralt smiled though he knew it didn’t reach his eyes. They wouldn’t like him. Not many people did. Jaskier was one of the few exceptions that actually stuck around. “Hmm.”

“Well.” Jaskier huffed and put one hand on his hip as he pulled away. “It doesn’t matter. I love you. That’s what counts.”

Geralt nodded and kissed Jaskier’s forehead. “Hmm.” He agreed.

“Jask!” A perky voice called and there was a rush of footsteps across the snow.

“Daisy!” Jaskier grinned and ran to hug the other elf. “Daisy, Geralt, my husband, Geralt, meet Daisy!”

Daisy was a handsome elf with mint green eyes that glowed just like Jaskier’s. They had long ginger hair with curls to rival Lambert’s. Like the elves of the Continent they had a lean willowy figure and angular elven bone structure. The points of their ears were decorated in elegant gold spirals.

“Good to meet you.” Geralt nodded at the newcomer with narrow eyes. Jaskier had never mentioned having any friends amongst his own kind before. “You didn’t come to our wedding.”

The elf blushed and stared down at their feet. “Poinsettia wouldn’t let any of us leave.”

Jaskier’s jaw tensed and he looked away. “Elves don’t fall in love, no need to have a wedding.” He muttered.

“I tried to get away but Poinsettia locked up the globe. We can’t travel between realms without it.” For a moment, Daisy looked like they were about to cry but they plastered a happy smile on their face. “But it was our most productive Christmas ever, at the time. We’ve outdone ourselves every year since. We have Jaskier to thank for that. You must be so proud of him!”

The elf bounded over to him and flung their arms around Geralt’s neck. Geralt felt his eyes go wide and he met Jaskier’s gaze with an alarmed expression. Jaskier tilted his head a smiled, but there was still a sadness in his eyes.

Geralt was going to fucking murder this Poinsettia elf.

“I am proud,” He answered, not breaking eye contact with his husband. “immensely proud.”

Jaskier’s face softened. “Geralt.” He breathed, his eyes twinkling like the sunlight hitting the snow around them.

“He deserved to have his family there.” Geralt sighed and extracted himself from Daisy’s arms.

They pouted in a very Jaskier fashion. “I know. Sweet baby Jesus we all knew, but Poinsettia has lost her way. She’s so focused on making every Christmas better than the last, to keep building up Spirit from Earth, instead of the Continent, that I think she’s forgotten what it means to be happy.”

Jaskier put both hands on his hips. “Jealousy is not a good look on a Christmas elf.” He muttered.

“There’s been rumours!” Daisy hissed with a scandalised giggle. “That the boss asked her to resign! She said no of course but it’s only a matter of time.”

Jaskier snorted. “She does need a holiday.” He mused. Geralt looked between the two elves suddenly feeling very much like the outsider that he was. Jaskier glanced up at him and glided over to link his arm with Geralt’s. “So tell me, darling Daisy. What have I missed this time?”

____________________________

Jaskier flitted about around all the igloos and gingerbread houses greeting his oldest friends. He pretended not to notice the way his fellow elves shrunk away from Geralt, and if he was honest, him. It had always been like this at the North Pole. The other elves thought it was a bit odd, and he was really. He had always been more in tune with his own feelings and wasn’t afraid to act on them.

Most elves were told they were happy and so… they were happy, fake smiles hid tired faces. Elves like Poinsettia were the ones where the cracks were beginning to show. He supposed being in charge for a few centuries wore one down rather quickly. He never wanted to be in charge. There was far too much red tape involved. He much preferred travelling the Continent with his husband, the grumpy bastard who he loved so very much. Jaskier had his own special job in collecting Christmas Spirit and that was how he liked it, thank you very much!

Also he did miss the banter of the workshops, back when he used to make instruments for days on end. There was always a lot of laughter in his team. The musical types were the most lighthearted of the bunch. After he’d been promoted to head composer he’d missed out on a lot of what had previously made the North Pole so special.

He chuckled to himself, that was what had led him to steal Santa’s snow globe in the first place, many moons ago.

The decision that had ultimately made him an outcast from his own kind but set him on the path to meeting the love of his life.

“And this!” He threw a sparkly rainbow as he gestured widely to the ginger bread house in front of them. Geralt rolled his eyes at Jaskier’s dramatics but he was smiling beneath it all. “This, my dear heart, is Santa’s Grotto!”

“The famous Santa.” Geralt hummed thoughtfully. “Is everything made out of food?”

Jaskier laughed and took Geralt’s hand to pull him down the path lined with candy canes. “Stop complaining!”

“Just seems like a waste.” Geralt muttered but he was smiling and he allowed himself to be dragged. “Does this mean you’ll finally ask Santa about Rinde?”

Jaskier scowled up at Geralt. “No.”

“Jask…”

“No!” Jaskier poked Geralt in the chest with his free hand as they stopped abruptly on the path. “I don’t want to know.”

“Why not?”

“Because only Santa has that ability.” Jaskier sighed.

“Which means?” Geralt asked with a tilt of his head.

“There’s rumours.” Jaskier muttered. “A prophecy of sorts. That one day Santa will step down. That someone else will take his place.”

“And that’s you?” Geralt furrowed his brow and squeezed Jaskier’s hand.

Jaskier gave his husband a fond smile and squeezed back. He tossed his fringe from his eyes. He shrugged. “No?”

“Hmm.” Geralt frowned.

“I hope not. I don’t want it.”

“Jaskier, I hope you’re not planning on staying out there forever.”

Jaskier jumped with a jingle of bells and spun round to see Santa watching them with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

“Ahh. Santa.” Jaskier gave a little bow with a wide wave of his arms. “Good to see you!”

“And you must be Geralt.” Santa laughed his jolly laugh and rubbed his belly.

Geralt grunted and nodded. “You’re smaller than I expected.”

Jaskier gasped and hid behind his hands. “Geralt!”

But Santa just laughed. “It’s alright, little one.” Jaskier glared at Geralt, his cheeks were on fire. “Come in, Jaskier. We have much to discuss. I know you have been avoiding me.”

“I have done no such…” Jaskier trailed off at the look Santa gave him.

“You’re worried that you can slow time.” Santa chuckled. “The Great Prophecy.”

Jaskier’s eyes went wide and he watched Santa go back inside the Grotto. Geralt’s arms wrapped around his waist. “I won’t let him take you.” His witcher murmured in his ear and placed a kiss to his temple. “Come on.”

“Hmm.” Jaskier hummed and chewed on his bottom lip. “Stay with me.” He mumbled as he leaned into Geralt’s side.

“Always.” Geralt reassured him.

“Jaskier, stop your dawdling.” Santa called and Geralt gave him a quick push.

He stumbled forwards. “Oi!” He grumbled and dusted off his clothes. Glitter fell from the tips of his fingers as his nerves got the better of him and he lost control of his Spirit.

“You are wondering why you are different?” Santa asked with a broad smile, offering him a plateful of chocolate chip cookies.

Jaskier snatched one and began to nibble it.

The Grotto was as warm as he remembered with the spicy scent of citrus and cinnamon wafting through the air. The cookies were probably made by Mrs Claus, only her baking was as delicious as the cookies he currently had the pleasure of eating. The chocolate chips were melted and gooey and the biscuit was buttery and sweet, with just a tinge of salty goodness. Gods it was a piece of heaven!

”Obviously.” He grumbled. “I thought I was just… odd, but…”

“You were designed differently from the others.” Santa admitted as he pulled off his hat.

Jaskier’s heart was racing in his chest and he gripped tightly onto Geralt’s arm. Around him snow began to crystallise in the air and he felt the tips of his hair go cold as they were covered in frost.

“Easy, Jask.” Geralt murmured. “I’ve got you, love.”

Jaskier looked up at his husband, startled by the pet name. “Dear heart.” He breathed in awe. Geralt’s lips twitched in that adorable half smile that never failed to make Jaskier’s heart turn to goo. Santa cleared his throat and they both turned to face him. Jaskier’s face was lit up brighter than a Christmas tree. “Sorry.” He mumbled.

“You are not my replacement, young elf.” Santa reassured him. “I just knew that one day it would take someone special to keep the belief in magic alive. You, Jaskier, were created from my own magic rather than Spirit that created the others.”

Jaskier gaped. “I’m sorry, what now?”

Geralt hummed. “So, you’re his father?”

Jaskier jabbed his husband in the rips. “Geralt!”

Santa chortled. “You could say that. It would be the closest thing any elf has to a father.”

“Santa!” Jaskier whined. “Oh gods, what is happening?” He moaned and pressed his head against Geralt’s chest.

Geralt laughed and ran his hand through Jaskier’s hair, knocking his hat to the floor.

“Do we have to stay here?” Geralt asked, ever the business man whilst Jaskier was in the middle of a fucking identity crisis.

“Of course not.” Santa laughed. “But I would appreciate a visit at least once a decade.”

“But my snow globe.” Jaskier protested.

“Your work is done, Jaskier.” Santa said softly. “Earth’s Spirit is glowing brighter than ever thanks to the magic you were able to harness from the Continent. Go. Be with your witcher.”

Jaskier stared up at Geralt in wonder. “I can stay with Geralt?”

“You don’t think old Santa Claus would stand in the way of love, do you?” Santa raised an eyebrow at him. “It is a shame. You would have been a brilliant head elf.”

Jaskier groaned. “Oh sweet Melitele no.” Then the idea hit him. “What about Daisy? They would be excellent, poor Poinsettia could use a break.”

“Poinsettia is stepping down to go back to her old job and looking after the Reindeer. She loves those daft bastards more than anything. She’s been apart from them for far too long.” Santa agreed. “I’ll keep Daisy in mind, son.” Jaskier squeak at the word and gripped onto Geralt’s arm tighter. “Now off with you.”

Jaskier looked up at Geralt. “Husband, would you mind terribly if there was a change of plans this winter?” He grinned.

“Do I get to change out of this ridiculously outfit?” Geralt smirked.

Jaskier swatted his arm. “Well you most certainly don’t now! Rude!”

Geralt chuckled. “Kaer Morhen?”

Jaskier nodded and leaned in to brush his nose against Geralt’s. “Kaer Morhen.” He agreed and kissed Geralt with all the love in his heart. “For now and forever.”

#the witcher #the christmas elf #Jaskier #Geralt #geraskier #elf jaskier #wolfie's witcher writing

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natromanxoff · 4 years

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Queen live at Hyde Park in London, UK - September 18, 1976 (Part-1)

An interesting bit about the Hyde Park gig (thanks to Jane Palm-Gold): "The white boiler suit Fred wore coming onstage was especially chosen by him so that he could be seen from miles away (because white stands out at a distance) and even better (and this is great but you have to know this place really - a London landmark for many years) it was acquired at Lawrence Corner at Euston (!), a tatty second hand clothes /hire place where a lot of clothes /outfits were hired from for band promo shoots - for instance they had a lot of military stuff there."

(x)

After the success of A Night At The Opera (and not to mention how the weekly Sounds readers' poll elected the band #1 in the best album, best single, and best band categories), Queen wanted to pay the British fans back for back their loyalty and support over the last few years. Whilst in Japan earlier in the year, they came up with the idea to stage a massive free concert. With the help of record industry entrepreneur Richard Branson (creator of Virgin Records/megastores) they started making plans for the Hyde Park show, which turned into a mini tour along with the Edinburgh and Cardiff shows. It is estimated that between 150-200 thousand people turned up at Hyde Park, which is still a record for the venue to this day. This show cemented their position in the top bracket of rock bands. The stage used was the same stage that was constructed for the Rolling Stones concert at the Knebworth Fair a few weeks earlier.

Queen's first huge show at home brought certain areas of London to a grinding halt, and space on public transportation was at a premium. The concert took place on the anniversary of Jimi Hendrix's death. A banner hung from a tree that read "Hendrix Lives," and at one point in the show Brian May noticed it with much appreciation. The band are seen in the photos above arriving at the venue, where they were joined backstage by Pink Floyd's Roger Waters. Supercharge, Steve Hillage, Rufus, and Kiki Dee (along with a cardboard cut-out of Elton John, who couldn't make it to join her for Don't Go Breaking My Heart) played before Queen (Be-Bop Deluxe and John Miles were supposed to be on the bill as well, but were axed for some reason). A pro-shot video of Steve Hillage's performance exists as well as Queen's. There was a fight in the audience during Hillage's set, during which he played extended trippy versions of It's All Too Much by The Beatles and Hurdy Gurdy Man by Donovan. Also notable is Supercharge's singer Albie Donnelly parodying Freddie Mercury in a white leotard and a half mic stand. The first half of the A Day At The Races overture is aired publicly for the first time (the upcoming album had been partially recorded by this point). The usual Bohemian Rhapsody opening sequence then commences for the last time. The band make their entrance, and everybody near the stage stands up (the audience had been seated on the grass for the opening acts). This angers many fans who are further back (roughly 90% of the audience now cannot see the stage), so they start lobbing cans, bottles, or whatever else that can be thrown. After a few songs, Freddie asks everyone simply to calm down: "I have been requested by the constabulary for you not to throw little things around, tin cans or whatever. So make this a peaceful event, ok? Sit on your arses and listen." Brian, after his solo spot in Brighton Rock (he stutters a bit, revealing that he's still nervous): “From one piece of nonsense to another, I’ve said it before. This is something we wanted to do with the London Philharmonic but they didn’t show up, so we will do the ethnic version of a song called '39." He is seen in a dazzling new outfit tonight, which he'd wear every night through Japan 1979. It would become the outfit he'd change into during the opera section of Bohemian Rhapsody. "Clap along and stuff," he urges the audience, as he plays the intro of what he'd later describe as the first song about Einstein's general theory of relativity. After '39, Freddie audaciously performs the as-of-yet unreleased You Take My Breath Away alone on the piano, even hitting many of the falsetto notes that he'd excise in 1977 versions. He then gets cheeky and introduces The Prophet's Song as "a little shorter number from our album A Night At The Opera." Perhaps he still had You Take My Breath Away in his head, as he begins the a cappella section with what would become the first line of the A Day At The Races ballad instead of the usual "oh, people can you hear me?" bit. He also references Death On Two Legs, as he had done a few times earlier in the year. After Stone Cold Crazy, the band play Keep Yourself Alive and Liar, having dropped Doing All Right and Lazing On A Sunday Afternoon from the set. The combination of these three heavy numbers would prove to be very effective, and they would stick with it for their following North American tour. Liar is a great version, with many great Mercuryisms throughout. Before the last song, Brian coyly says, "This is In The Lap Of The Gods, or something like that." The band play a similar set to the ones they did in Edinburgh and Cardiff, except they drop Doing All Right, Lazing On A Sunday Afternoon and Tie Your Mother Down. They intended to perform their usual encore of Big Spender and Jailhouse Rock, but the show had run a half hour past its scheduled ending time (a curfew strictly enforced by the authorities). The police threatened to arrest the band if they went back on stage, and Freddie was later quoted saying how he would prefer not to be stuck in a jail cell in his leotard. And so, Bob Harris was left with the unenviable task of announcing to the crowd that the show was over. He later recalled how difficult and nerve-wracking it was to tell an audience of this size who had waited for about ten hours that there would be no encore. Now I'm Here was the first encore every night around this time, making this the one time between 1974 and 1986 where the song is not performed. The liner notes of Live Killers suggest that Now I'm Here was dropped from the set for a while, but that is patently untrue. People in one section of the audience chanted "Why are we waiting," all in good fun, knowing full well the show was over. The police soon turned off the main power feed to the park, forcing hundreds of thousands of people to make their way out in sheer darkness. Their reasoning was that it was the only way to "control" such a large number of people who had been rowdy throughout the day. In a 1977 interview with Capital Radio, Brian recalls the day: "It had a great sunny day for it, and everyone had a good time. There were still altercations on the day, and there was a big thing with the powers that be because they wouldn't let us go on and do the encore, about which we were very upset, having worked up for months and prepared for all that. They got very frightened because there were 150,000 people in Hyde Park in the dark, and they thought they were going to get out of hand. But in fact, there was no possible danger happening at all. Everyone was peaceful and having a good time."

This show is what epitomized their popularity in Britain, and when they felt they "had really made it," as Brian would later recall. On another occasion he said, "I think that Hyde Park was one of the most significant gigs in our career. There was a great affection because we'd kind of made it in a lot of countries by that time, but England was still, you know, we weren't really sure if we were really acceptable here. So it was a wonderful feeling to come back and see that crowd and get that response." Despite the fact that the audience had been there all day watching the various opening acts and waiting, the band delayed the show as long as possible just so it could get dark enough for their lighting and various other effects to make their full impact (as demanded by Freddie). Throughout the show, the band's nervousness and excitement for the occasion are evident. Most of the audience couldn't see a thing during Queen's set, since the stage was barely elevated. "The smell of the dry ice and the sound are the only sensory memories I have of this show," recalls Jane Palm-Gold. Here is an article from the day of the show,

and a review from a week later (both were submitted by Boris Arkhangelsky).

Tonight would be the final performances of Flick Of The Wrist, Son And Daughter, and the (almost) full The Prophet's Song. A snippet of The March Of The Black Queen would be performed only once more in 1978, but a different part of the song.

Here is a Virgin Records flyer.

The second pic is the famous overhead shot that appeared in the October 9, 1976 Melody Maker. Pic 5 was submitted by Janneman, and pics 6 and 7 were submitted by Lukáš Bosík.

Fan Stories

“Well, I was 13 years old and had got into Queen through Night At The Opera and THAT video. I'd never been to a gig before and it took a lot of convincing of a sceptical mother to let me go to Hyde Park on my own. After answering the inevitable "no, I won't talk to strange men mum" questions I was allowed to go. The morning came and I was up at 6am, got my packed lunch together (can you imagine going off to a gig now with your sandwiches and orange juice!) and headed off to Hyde Park. I remember getting there so early that I was right by the crash barriers at the front and determined to try and hold my spot all day. As the day progeressed however I ended upmoving backwards slowly as people pushed in. I can remember savouring the whole build up, the support bands, everything. As dusk started to fall, the stage went dark and the dry ice started up. I broke my mums don't talk to strangers bit and a very nice bloke put me up on his shoulders so I could see them come on. I just remember the crash of light and sound as they came on as if it was yesterday (and not 27 years ago!). The rest of the gig was amazing and that was it, I was hooked on Queen and rock music. I saw Queen on every tour they ever did in England (and a few in Europe) after that but nothing compares to that first gig for me.”

- Andy

Part-2

Part-3

#queen #queen band #roger taylor #freddie mercury #brian may #john deacon #queen concerts

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copias-thrall · 4 years

Text

Worth

Things have been Not Great, so I wrote an angsty Mary fic to cope.

FYI: this is not a lighthearted, heart-of-gold Mary fic. He’s kind of an asshole, and there are some heavy themes.

*brief domestic abuse (not Mary); angst; recreational drug use*

It happened after an impromptu party at her place.

The bars had closed, but no one was ready to stop—so everyone had grabbed some beers and snacks from the all-nighter and headed back to her place. Friends of friends were called, and suddenly at 4am there were maybe 30 people in the cramped 3 bedroom in a run-down house she shared, complete with a DJ and speakers. They'd partied even after the sun came up, too drunk or high to give a shit.

When she passed out around 11am, there were still 10 or so people grinding on each other or playing a slapped-together game of beer pong in the living room.

Waking up at 4pm had been a disconcerting experience, but at least she wasn't too hungover. She’d shuffled out to the living room to assess the damage (lots of trash, but fortunately no irreparable damage)—and that's when she heard noises in the kitchen.

She’d made her way there and saw a skinny punk boy with floppy hair and smeared makeup making eggs on her stove. Upon her arrival, he’d turned and said,

“Oh, hey. You want some?”

And that’s how she became friends with Mary.

***

He was suddenly around all the time.

Sometimes he’d show up early evening with a 6-pack, and the two of them would smoke weed, or play video games, or she’d listen to him pontificate about the musical artist of the week he was mainlining before he left to troll the bars.

Sometimes he’d show up on her couch in the morning, sleeping off the night before, and she’d have to coax him up with coffee and the promise of bacon before he stumbled back out into the world to do whatever it was that Marys do during the daytime.

For a while he became something of an unofficial roommate to everyone—sometimes bringing supplies, other times eating what wasn’t his; sometimes leaving a mess of dishes in the sink, other times taking out the trash—but always her friend first.

That all changed the night one of her roommates gave the couch to a friend from out-of-town. There’d been a soft knocking at her door, and then Mary was slipping into her room.

“Hey.”

“You mind if I sleep on your floor?”

She’d looked down at the space rug that she hadn’t vacuumed in months.

“I don’t mind scooting over. But you have to lose some layers. I don’t want your denim pressing into me all night.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, it’s fine.”

He’d hesitantly stripped down to a t-shirt and boxers before sliding into the space she’d made for him. There’d been some jostling, but Mary had kept his hands to himself.

The friend had finally left the couch, but Mary never left her bed.

Now when he needed a place to crash, he crawled in through her window in the middle of the night to slip into bed with her. (And maybe there was some snuggling—but two friends sharing a twin was perfectly normal, right?) He suddenly seemed to prefer hanging out in her room—chilling cross legged on her mattress as he packed a bowl or they cued up a movie on Netflix—only showing his face in the common rooms anymore when there was food to be had.

Her other roommates even remarked on his lack of presence, to which she’d shrugged. He was her friend, after all.

One morning changed everything.

She’d woken up from a steamy sex dream still unsatisfied—still wet and throbbing between her legs. Half awake, she’d mewled in frustration and rolled onto her stomach, hand reaching down between her body and the bed so she could rock into it.

“Um.”

At the sound of Mary’s voice, she’d frozen. Suddenly fully awake, she’d snatched her hand back up, scrambled to the other side of the bed, and plastered herself against the wall.

“I was just! It wasn’t! I didn’t know …”

Mary was lying stock still, face flushed and very obviously affected. Seeing where her gaze had landed, his hands had flown to cover his erection.

“Uh. Sorry. But you were … you know.”

She’d quickly gone from mortified to fascinated.

“That … turned you on?”

His blush deepened.

“Well … yeah.”

“Why?”

He’d gone to gesture, remembered his predicament, didn’t.

“You were touching yourself. I mean. I thought maybe you were having a nightmare and then …” He’d shrugged. “Kinda hot.”

“You thought it was hot? Even though it’s me?” She didn’t think someone like Mary could find someone like her attractive. That’s why he’d never hit on her, right?

“Even though you’re my friend?”

“Because I’m. Me.” She’d swept her hands up and down her body.

He’d rolled onto his side and carefully arranged the sheets to cover him. She’d watched as his hand reached out to rest on her knee.

“You’re very attractive.”

She’d scoffed at him. “I have a mirror. You don’t need to patronize me.”

His hand had scooted up to her thigh, and he’d looked up at her. Her heart had begun to pound just as all the blood that wasn’t already between her legs rushed through her ears.

“Do you … want me … to show you how attractive I find you?”

His hand had slowly traveled up the leg, and was now resting on her sweaty inner thigh. Adrenaline was coursing through her—making it hard to verbalize her need for him to keep going—so when she’d opened her mouth, all that had come out was a whimper. Still looking up at her, Mary had pressed his thumb with unnerving accuracy into her clit.

Like it had been a release valve, she’d let out a long whine as her body opened up. His thumb had continued to pet at her clit through her dampening panties, and she’d rocked into his touch, legs splaying wide.

And maybe it was because she’d been so worked up already. Or maybe it was because it had been so long since someone else had touched her. Maybe it was the dangerous expression on Mary’s face … but she’d cum in no time—her clit bubbling as she twitched and groaned to each pulsing wave.

Before she’d had time to come down—or feel embarrassed—Mary was on her, all previous attempts at modesty gone as he’d pressed his hard-on into her thigh.

“Can I fuck you?” he’d mouthed into her neck.

Her first instinct had been to tell him “yes” … but it had been so long since anything bigger than a finger had been in her, and she’d hesitated. Feeling her tense, Mary had backed off.

“Or, I could just jack off.”

“No—I …” she’d wiggled around and kicked off her sticky panties. “Thighs ok?”

Mary had eagerly pressed into her back. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s great. Wanna feel how wet you are.”

There had been some wiggling around on his part—to divest himself of his boxers, she’d supposed—and then she’d felt as his dick eased between her closed thighs. He’d grunted, and then his arms came around her: one held her hips steady while he thrust, the other grazed and pinched at her nipples through her nightshirt.

“So hot,” he’d said as his lips smeared down her neck. “Wanted you for a while.” They came back up to press behind her ear.

All she’d been able to manage in return was a gasp as his clever fingers worked at her body—his free hand grazing her nipples and his steadying hand slipping down to rub at her clit again. Panting, he’d brought her to climax once more before clutching her tightly to him so he could finally pump himself to release as well.

Wheezing into her shoulder, Mary’s hips had finally stuttered, and he’d let out a breathy moan right before she’d felt the wetness of his cum start to drip down her thighs. Languidly, he’d rocked his hips as he worked himself through the aftershocks; then,his arms had loosened their hold, and he’d sighed before placing a quick kiss to the back of her neck.

“Good?”

Her head was spinning, and she’d murmured out a “Yeah.”

He’d shifted around, his arms withdrawing from her space.

“C’mon, let’s go back to sleep. Still early.”

“But the mess …” she’d begun, but he’d just pulled her onto his chest.

“Later.”

Mary had fallen asleep immediately, but she’d lain awake wondering what whatever the fuck had just happened meant.

***

Neither of them really talked about it later, but Mary had stopped showing up just to hang. Instead, she’d leave her window open, and most nights he’d crawl through her window in the AM and stick around for breakfast. A fresh box of condoms (since the existing ones in her underwear drawer were 5yrs old) and a few solo practice sessions later had her back on the horse. Mary had relished the full access to her body, delighting in fucking her lazily while he played her body—his mouth sucking on all the right spots while his hands and fingers teased at her other erogenous zones.

He always made sure she came before he did—often multiple times—before finally letting loose and using her body to get off. He always seemed so desperate for it, and she was happy to let him use her—afterward contently sighing into his chest while basking in the afterglow as his arms wrapped around her. It was nice to be wanted, to be touched—even if she missed the part where the two of them drank shitty beer and talked shit while gaming.

When she voiced her regret to her roommate, they had just rolled their eyes at her.

“Have you been out of the game that long? He was courting you then. That’s just how men are. Don’t worry about it.”

So, she tried not to.

***

It’s one of those nights she feels the stirring to go out. She tries to coax one of her roomies to come with her, but they all beg off with the excuse of work in the morning.

“I do too! We don’t have to stay super late!”

But they remain unmoved.

So, she shimmies into the dress that makes her feel the best about herself, pust her face on, and goes out for a drink.

The bar is moderately crowded when she gets there, and she makes a beeline for the electronic jukebox, determined to get some of her bops into the queue so maybe she’ll even get to hear them before she leaves.

Satisfied, she approaches the bar to order a chocolate porter. And hey, wait!—she recognizes that shape across the bar! As her eyes adjust, she's even more certain that it’s Mary. A smile breaks out on her face—she can’t wait to surprise him after she gets her beer.

Pint glass in hand, she makes her way through the bodies to the other side of the bar to where Mary is talking to the pink-haired woman next to him. He’s so engrossed that he doesn’t notice her standing in front of him. In fact, it’s the woman he’s talking to who notices her first.

“Um, hello?” says Pink Hair.

“Oh. I … just wanted to say hi to Mary.”

Mary looks over at her, but his expression is guarded.

“Oh, hey.”

“Hey!”

Pink Her takes an exaggerated sip of her cocktail.

“Did you need something? Because I’m kinda busy here,” he says.

She can feel her smile fall. “Oh. O-ok. I just thought …”

“Look, I’ll catch you later or something, ok?”

Her stomach turns to ice. “Oh, um. Ok, sure.” She starts to say that she’ll be here for a bit, but he’s already turning back around, a smile breaking on his face just for Pink Hair as his hand goes to res on the woman’s knee.

As she stiffly walks away, she hears Pink Hair say, “Who was that?” and Mary respond, “Just some girl who follows me around. You know how it is.”

On autopilot—heart making a rapid tattoo against her ribs—she makes her way to an open high-top. Her good mood has evaporated like water during a scorcher. The sensible thing to do would be to go home—but she hates herself, so she stands there, nursing her beer and trying to make it look like she’s not zeroed in on Mary and his … friend? No need to think the worst. Maybe Pink Hair’s having a rough day and Mary’s listening to her. He’s good like that.

Her bubble of delusion pops when she sees him lean in to kiss Pink Hair’s neck. When his mouth meets the woman’s, her heart officially drops into her stomach … but for some reason she can’t seem to look away. She feels an almost destructive need to make herself see this.

The two of them make out for a bit before Mary puts a bill on the bar and they start to make their way to the exit. For half a second Mary’s eyes catch hers across the bar … and then they slide away, his hand on the small of Pink Hair’s back as they leave together.

She watches the door for a long time after they disappear. She wonders if she’s going to be sick.

Beer unfinished, she sluggishly makes her way to the door, no longer interested in a night out. As she walks home in a daze, she keeps replaying the entire thing over and over in her head to the extent that she walks half a block past her apartment.

Her roommates are still up when she makes it inside, but she just mumbles out a “Hey” and goes straight to her room. For several minutes she just stands there, unsure of the next action to take: change clothes? smash things? brush her teeth? cry?

She ends up walking over to her window. Instead of lifting the pane open, she makes sure it’s closed all the way before thumbing the latch to locked. To make a further statement, she pulls her curtains shut. Mechanically, she undresses and crawls into bed—she'll brush her teeth in the morning.

It’s only because she's still awake—her brain unable to shut off—that she hears it: little plinks. At first she wonders if it’s raining, and then she realizes something is hitting the window pane. A glance at her clock tells her it’s 3:56am.

Even though she already knows what she'll find, she sloughs over to the window and parts the curtains. There’s Mary in his leather jacket, arm raised as if to throw another pebble. He grimaces at her, then motions for her to open the window.

But she's just some girl, so she closes the curtains again and gets back into bed.

As she lays there, a horrible thought passes through her brain: Is this how it always is? He always shows up around the same time every night. Has … has he been coming to her after he’s had his way with his stunning girl du jour? Is she just a warm bed to sleep in after they kick him out? How many times has she been sloppy seconds? Was he even attracted to her, or were those just pretty words to keep him in her bed?

Rolling over for the hundredth time, she thinks about how he always fucks her with her back pressed into him. She'd always thought it was nice—cuddled up close to Mary, his hands free to touch her everywhere … but now she wonders if it was so he didn’t have to look at her, so he could pretend she was the girl he’d just left.

Well. No more.

The next several days crawl. Her roommates give her a wide berth, waiting for her to say something … or not. Every night around 4am, she hears the telltale plink of detritus hitting her window, but she doesn't show her face again.

She wishes he’d just go away.

And then he does, and she wishes she knew what she wanted.

***

She never does say anything to her roommates, but with her mood and the lack of a Mary Goore, they put two-and-two together. They arrange movie nights with vodka and popcorn; they drag her out to clubs that play booty music; they snarl at any man who dares approach her.

She'd never met Mary before her house party, and now it’s like she can’t go to a bar without running into him. The first couple of times, her friends and roommates had barred him from interacting with her with hissed words and thinly-veiled threats, and he’d backed off. But as the leeway around The Event wears off, she eventually has to tell him to fuck off herself.

“But I just want to …”

“No. We’re done, Mary.”

“But—”

“Go away. Or I’m gonna grab a bouncer.”

She feels like she already knows what he’s going to say, anyway, and she’s already exhausted. While she never assumed he was her boyfriend, she had assumed they were exclusive. But: it’s not like the two of them ever talked about what they were, so he has her there … and she can’t help feel like he got away on a technicality on that point. Even before he started sharing her bed and then fucking her, Mary was crashing at her place on the reg. Was it so outlandish to think he wasn’t working his way through half the scene before crawling into bed with her?

And what good can he say about the cruel way he’d dismissed her? Perhaps even going out of his way to show her exactly what she meant to him?

As if she were nothing.

Some. Girl.

No. She has nothing more to say to Mary Goore.

***

Mary finally takes the hint. Now when she sees him out, he sends her looks, but doesn’t attempt to talk to her anymore. She knows all she needs to know anyway when she sees him still consistently leaving with a hottie on his arm.

So it’s with some surprise to her that he tries again in a way that takes her completely off guard.

It’s late in the evening, and for once she doesn't see Mary skulking about the bar she's at. A woman approaches her table and asks if she can talk to her. She thinks maybe the woman needs help, or likes her shoes or something—If she'd known what the woman was about, she'd have never agreed.

“What’s up?” she asks when the two of them are alone at a free high-top in the corner.

“I’m one of Mary’s friends, and—”

She scoffs and makes to go, but the woman rests a hand on her arm.

“No! Wait, hear me out.”

The woman’s eyes plead, and—against her better judgement—she stays.

“You’re not going to convince me of anything.”

“Just listen, ok?”

She folds her arms.

“Look, Mary’s really sorry. He’s really torn up about it. You don’t even—”

“I don’t give a shit about how he feels.”

The woman swallows. “He really does feel awful about the misunderstanding, and—”

“No,” she hisses, making a cut off motion with her arm. The woman’s mouth clicks shut. “Fine, I get it—I shouldn’t have assumed I was the only one he was fucking. That’s on me, I guess. But there was no misunderstanding. He wasn’t confused when he pretended I was just some sad little girl mooning after him. And I don’t know if he saw sex with me as repayment for giving him a place to crash or if my spreading my legs for him just an added bonus.” She's pretty sure her face is purple at this point. "But I seriously doubt he didn’t understand that fucking one person and then leaving to fuck another in the same night is not acceptable—especially without telling them.”

“I … he—”

“So I don’t care how many sympathetic friends he gets to do his dirty work, I’m fucking done with him. He can find another warm body to dupe. He certainly doesn’t lack options.” She starts to walk away and then turns back. “This isn’t some version of hard to get. I want him to leave me alone.”

***

She meets Benny at a friend of a friend’s house party. He’s … ok. Kind of pompous and into himself—but charismatic and funny. And if she wasn’t looking to fill the Mary-Shaped void (instead of waiting for it to close on its own) she probably would have just tossed his number. But he focuses his wattage on her, and his eyes take in her body like it’s a treat, so she thinks: what the hell?

As a boyfriend he’s … ok. He takes her out on dates and buys her small trinkets—so she purposefully overlooks that he has to have his own way. And when she’d been upfront about looking for exclusivity, he’d said they both were both on the same page. So what if he has the tendency to talk over her? It’s not like it’s forever.

In bed he’s … ok. Not exactly a thoughtful dynamo, but he touches her body and meets her eyes during sex—and that’s more than she's had in a while. So what if he sometimes makes little comments about what a catch he is and how lucky she is? It’s not like anyone else is asking to be put on her dance card.

He’s not Mary—but what had Mary been, really? Some guy who’d trespassed on her hospitality because she’d been so starved for contact that she confused gratitude for affection.

It’s inevitable that they run into Mary at a bar—she’s surprised it hadn’t happened sooner—but that doesn’t mean she has to like it.

She and Benny are at the bar eating rubbery burgers and decent fried pickle chips with a pitcher of beer to wash it all down when she looks across the bar and catches Mary glowering at her. She ignores him, and she resolves to put him out of her mind.

Her resolution is blown to shit when she comes back from the bathroom and she sees Mary on a stool next to Benny.

“… you hardly have to do anything. Oh hey, babe.”

“Hey.” She climbs back up onto her stool.

He turns to her. “This is—wait for it—Mary.”

Mary’s eyes bore into hers. She sticks her hand across Benny.

“Hi, Mary. Nice to meet you.”

He limply takes her hand, gives it a shake, then lets go.

“I’m gonna hit the head. Try not to talk about me,” says Benny with a wink.

When he’s well out of earshot, Mary lays into her.

“Are you fucking serious with this guy?”

“What’s it to you?” She pops a pickle chip into her mouth.

“He’s an asshole. He was just telling me he dates girls like you because you’re so grateful for the attention that you’ll accept anything.”

She's a little stung that Mary thinks of her as ugly too—some part of her had been holding onto the scrap that maybe Mary hadn’t been lying about finding her attractive.

She continues to graze the pickles.

“Well, I am grateful, Mary. I’m not like you; I don’t have people lined up around the block waiting to fuck me. I was grateful you were willing to fuck me, and I’m grateful he likes touching me.” She locks her gaze with his. “At least he isn’t ashamed to be seen with me in public.”

Mary’s mouth opens and closes like a fish. Benny’s reappearance interrupts his attempt to form a coherent retort.

"Getting acquainted, I see.”

“Sure,” she says.

“No, that’s good.” He turns to grin at her. “See, Mary here came over to express his …” Benny sucks his teeth and gives her a once over. “Interest in what a … healthy-looking girl you are.”

She squints in confusion as Mary’s face shows open shock.

“That’s not what I …” Mary sputters.

Benny puts his hand over hers.

“Do you think we could accommodate him, babe?”

“What?” she spits out as Mary tries to back away as much as he can while still sitting.

Benny looks at Mary and then at her with a knowing glance. His hand comes up to brush at her cheekbone.

“What would you think about me watching him fuck you?”

If it were any other guy, she might have thrown her drink on Benny—but any disgust she feels toward him seems to be overridden by the opportunity to get in a jab at Mary. Glancing over, she pretends to assess him.

“No,” she says with as much haughtiness as she can muster. “He looks like a hobo. I don’t want to catch fleas.”

Mary actually has the audacity to look hurt.

“Well, let it never be said I couldn’t take a hint.”

He slides off the stool and walks away.

“Hey, wait—she didn’t mean …” sputters Benny.

They watch in silence as he exits the bar.

Benny turns to her. “Why the fuck would you say something like that?”

“Why would you?” she retorts as she crams the last of the burger into her maw.

The mood effectively killed, they pay and head out.

The walk back to his place is a quiet one, both of them annoyed at the other for very different reasons. Once in his apartment, she's barely hung up her coat before Benny is laying into her.

“What that fuck was that back there, huh? Do you know how embarrassing that was for me?”

She rolls her eyes at him.

“My ‘gratitude’ has limits, Benny.”

The slap comes out of nowhere. More of an open-handed punch, really. She goes stumbling backwards, momentarily stunned. When her hand touches her face, it comes away with blood from a split lip. When she looks up, Benny is looking at her coldly, but calmly.

“You hit me,” she says, incredulous.

“I think I’ve been really good about restraining myself until now. You know how you are.”

It should say something that she's more annoyed that Mary was right about wasting her time on an asshole like Benny than she is in fear of him.

She grits her teeth.

“We’re fucking done, Benny.”

His face contorts in a journey of annoyance, disbelief, and irritation.

“You think anyone else is going to want you? Just look at you. You’re lucky to have me.”

“Mary wanted me,” she says.

“What?”

“The guy at the bar. For the record, I’ve already fucked him, and he might have bedbugs, but he’s a much better lay.”

Benny, face red, crowds into her space. “Are you really trying to provoke me right now?”

“You’re right. I’m actually leaving.”

“Bitch, you think—” he moves to grab her wrists, but she pushes him, hard.

He stumbles back and trips over his rug, landing on his ass. It would be comical except for the dark look he gives her. Feeling a sudden lance of fear, she goes for the door, knocking the end table over as an extra obstacle for him. She wastes precious seconds yanking hard at her coat as she flees—hearing it tear somewhere as it pulls free—since her phone and her wallet are in the pockets.

She catches a glimpse of him just getting to his feet yelling, “You fucking cunt,” as she slams the door behind her. Heart pounding, she runs up a flight of stairs, hoping to fake him out—but his door slams open just in time for him to see her.

“You never had it so good!” he screams as he climbs after her.

She chances running down the hall on the next floor to get to the back stairwell, but she’s not quick enough. “If you leave don’t expect me to take you back,” she hears as she practically vaults down the next flight. Instead of continuing or booking it back to the main stairwell, she sprints to the turn in the hall and stops—back pressed against the wall, hand across her mouth as she pants.

Benny’s footfalls stop as he reaches the landing to his floor then pause. She can hear him let out a Fuck, and she tenses—ready to claw if he comes around the corner—but he continues on down the hall. It sounds like he searches the main stairwell again, but it’s hard to tell.

She remains there, getting her breathing back under control and listening intently for the telltale sounds he’s checking the back stairs again … but so far: nothing. As she waits to make sure Benny isn’t going to chase after her, she has time to think about what she'd said to goad him. Part of her wonders if she didn’t have it good with Mary after all; the more reasonable part reminds herself that she deserves better than either of them—even if that means no one.

Finally, she hears him stomping and cursing, and then the slam of his door. Even so, she still waits—playing repeating songs over in her head—before craning her head around the L of the hall. Seeing nothing suspicious, she carefully slinks to the back stairs, lightly tiptoeing down them until she reaches the emergency exit. Uncaring about an alarm, she slams it open, making her way into the cooling night air.

She runs all the way home, never stopping to even put on her coat.

***

For months she’d kept her bedroom window closed and locked—not wanting to give Mary the impression that an open window was an invitation—but after his attempts had stopped with his friend’s plea, she'd felt comfortable cracking it open again.

Which is why several days after the incident with Benny, Mary can once again climb through her window. He scares the bejesus out of her—part of her half-asleep brain convinced it’s Benny here to enact retribution.

Something in her eyes must convey her alarm because he blurts out, “Hey, hey—it’s just me.”

She's relieved until she remembers how pissed at him she is.

“What the fuck, Mary.”

“Sorry.”

She sits up in bed and turns on her bedside lamp.

“Are you fucking kidding me? What about my memo didn’t you get?”

He rubs the back of his neck.

“I know—I’m sorry. I just. I wanted to make sure you were ok.”

“Because I obviously must be wasting away without a dick to fill me?”

He gives her a strange look.

“No. Because of …” He makes a flapping gesture with his hand.

“Because of … what? First word? Sounds like?”

His brows furrow.

“Shit. You don’t know.”

She rubs at her eyes. “It’s fucking late, Mary. Help me out.”

“May I?” he asks as he goes to sit on the edge of her bed.

“No,” she hisses, and he pops back up.

He teeters awkwardly before turning it into a lean against her dresser.

“Benny’s been around. Saying shit.”

“Lemme guess: he’s been talking shit about putting me in my place with a firm hand or something? Maybe that he broke up with me because I’m pathetic? Neither of which are true, by the way.”

Mary actually looks nervous.

“Um. Kinda. But it’s …”

“What?” she snaps.

He takes a deep breath.

“He’s been saying that he found out you were cheating on him so he ‘taught you a lesson’ by ‘destroying your ass’ before kicking you to the curb. He, um. Described it in great detail.”

She stares at Mary, stunned.

“What?”

He rubs his neck again, unable to meet her eyes.

“It’s just. His accuracy … I had to make sure you were ok.”

She realizes she’s balling her fists in her sheet, so she unclenches.

“Oh,” she says. “Well, thanks. I guess.”

“So you are? Ok?”

She rubs her face with her hands.

“I mean, he hit me, but—”

“What?” barks Mary as he looks up at her sharply.

“Yeah. He was pissed I declined to let you fuck me in front of him, so he slapped me. I told him to fuck off and left.”

Mary goes to examine her face before he remembers she's no longer his to touch.

“Sorry,” he mumbles as he backs away again.

“I’m fine, Mary. Just a split lip. Practically healed. You didn’t even notice it.”

“Well, you’re light’s fucking dim. You didn’t even notice …” He trails off.

“Notice what, Mary?”

“Nothing.”

“Notice. What?”

He sighs and holds out his hands. She sees immediately that his knuckles are bruised and bloody.

“Mary! Your hands!”

Before she can stop herself, she shoots up and grabs his hands to examine the damage.

“What happened?”

“Do you really want to know?”

She squints up at him, feeling like she already knows the answer.

“Tell me.”

He sighs.

“True or not, I just couldn’t let that douche talk shit about you in public. I wasn’t the only one, either, you know—you have more friends that you think you do. A couple of us … drove home that he needed to shut the fuck up and move on.”

She hates that she feels thankful, but she is.

And then he has to go and ruin the moment by saying, “I’m not really boyfriend material, you know.”

She lets his hands go.

“That’s such a fucking cop out, Mary. An excuse to keep you from responsibility.”

He makes a frustrated noise.

“I have friends and I have people I fuck. I’m not …. I don’t have friends I fuck.”

The old feelings of righteous indignation flare up.

“Then why? We could have written off that first morning as a one off. Laughed about it as half-asleep shenanigans. Why keep fucking me?”

His head thunks back against the wall.

“Because I was fucking selfish, ok? Sleeping next to you for weeks without touching you was a special kind of torture. I didn’t think I could go back to that. And I wanted … I wanted you to feel good. That’s what I’m good at: making people feel good. You think that you’re this troll who’s lucky if someone looks at you, and I needed to show you that you’re not. Just because you don’t see it doesn’t mean you aren’t hot, ok? Your problem isn’t that you’re ‘ugly’—it’s that you refuse to believe anyone could be into you. You miss what’s right in front of you—and I don’t even mean me.”

Her lather gets up.

“Well, congrats: you did, you asshole. You made me feel like I could be worth something. You came by and talked to me about shit and slept in my bed and touched me like I wasn’t a gross beach ball. And then you,” tears suddenly well in her eyes, “and then you treated me like trash. You tell me you wanted to show me I was worth something, but then you treated me like I was some delusional fangirl—like you weren’t coming here and fucking me every night—so you could go home with a fucking goth model. You made sure you weren’t even subtle. Was I ever more than just the after party, Mary? Some place to slink to after the main event so you didn’t have to go home?”

Piece said, she scrubs her eyes and sniffles at Mary. He only stares back at her as the minutes start to tick by uncomfortably.

Just when she's given up on getting a response from him, he says,

“I just assumed you understood who I was.”

She waits for more. Anything else.

But that’s it. That’s all he has to say.

“I didn’t, but I do now,” she says tiredly. “And I deserve better than your paltry offering.”

Again, he has the audacity to look hurt.

She settles herself back into her covers.

“I appreciate you beating the shit out of Benny, but I really do wish you’d leave me alone. My open window just means I’d like some fresh air.”

“I—”

“Leave,” she hisses as she drapes her arm over her eyes.

It takes a moment, but then she hears Mary shuffle over to the window and scramble out of it.

And then all she hears is the wind blowing through the trees.

Epilogue

And that could be the end of it.

It certainly feels like the end of the 2yr entanglement with Mary Goore. He seems to disappear from her life just as suddenly as he arrived. Everyone around her vows to hate him on principle even if she suspects a few of them still smoke with him.

One of her roommates moves out, and one that she ends up hating moves in.

She gets a new job, and has a brief affair with a colleague that ends in tears when he realizes he actually is ready to marry his ex.

Once or twice she Googles Mary, but he has zero social media presence—just a few blurry, red-eyed pics of him with other people from the scene.

She moves into a place with another girl from work.

Two of her friends get married to each other.

She pays off her student debt and buys a modest place.

Occasionally she hears mention of one of his shenanigans, but never anything substantial. Never anything about his lovers.

More of her friends get married.

She finds herself missing the days when she could do casual shots with roommates and still be fresh for work the next day.

She dates every asshole her dating app has to offer before deleting them all and buying some very nice toys.

Sometimes she goes out to her old haunts and watches the social shit show with fondness.

Mary becomes like that song: someone she used to know.

Until …

He isn’t.

It’s in that Japanese coffee shop of all places that she finally sees him—the man behind the myth—again. She’s tapping away at her laptop, latte in hand, when she sees him in line. At first, she doesn’t even think it’s him.

She thinks, “Huh. That dude looks like Mary Goore.” But the longer she stares, the more she realizes that it is Mary Goore.

Mary used to be a skinny-ass noodle boy. His hair was always greasy and flaky with product. Even when clean, his clothes were covered in stains and holes. His leather jacket was dull with half the lining ripped away, and his Docs were covered in black duct tape. Under his makeup, his face was handsome, but covered in acne.

This … man is still very slender, but his shoulders have broadened, and she thinks she can detect a little potbelly. His hair is still styled, but it looks clean. He looks clean. His leather jacket looks lived in, but is still shiny. The black jeans are still molded onto his legs … but the only rips are at his knees and—unlike the only pair she ever saw him wear—don’t look like they’d ooze oil if you pressed hard. The ends are tucked into boots that—while scuffed—aren’t cracked or peeling. When he turns to stare absently at the wall, she can see that his face has filled out a bit, but the makeup is more subtle—still white in pallor, but instead of clunky skull accents, his eyes and cheeks are sleek and contoured.

The old feeling of longing stirs in her gut.

It’s why, stupidly, instead of being satisfied with just this glimpse, she says (in a hesitant, wavering voice), “Mary?” after he gets his order. She doesn't know why she does this to herself. It’s not like she wants to hear about his marriage or his kids. Or worse—how he’s still giving it away for free like that’s all he’s worth.

Despite various diets and exercise regimes, she's only grown more womanly—but she's learned that what Mary told her all those years ago was truth: she was the only thing cockblocking herself.

To-go cup in hand, he swivels his head this way and that, trying to find the source of his name. His gaze glosses right over her, and she doesn't quite have the courage to call out to him again. But then his eyes land on her and focus—and then he breaks out in a huge grin that opens up his whole face, that shows the fine lines his placid look was hiding.

“Oh my god. Is that you?”

She blushes and nods. He saunters over and half sits against the opposite stool. His eyes travel her up and down. She’s only a little self-conscious that he’s managed to glow-up while she's merely discovered the miracle of a tailor and Vaseline.

“You look great,” he says in a soft voice.

She waves away the compliment. “Look at you! Did you go into modeling or something?”

He snorts at her. “I—well … I guess there’s a lot of shit you wouldn’t know; a lot of shit I didn’t want to tell you. Anyway—long, boring story—after I got kicked out of my living situation, I ended up rooming with a bunch of drag queens.” He shrugs, but there’s a half smile on his face. “I was kind of their pet project for a while.”

She mirrors his expression. “That would only happen to you.”

“So how’s—” “Are you—”

Both of them chuckle nervously. Mary makes a “go on” motion.

As she wet her lips, her eyes flick to where his left hand is wrapped around his cup. No ring.

“I believe this is the part where I inquire after the health of a … uh … girlfriend?”

Subtle.

Mary’s half smile becomes whole.

“Oh, ah. Not one of those. Or the other kind. Not for a while, anyway.” He shrugs. “And … you?” he says carefully. “Husband? Kids?”

She feels her face flush, and she looks down.

“No, nothing like that.”

There’s what feels like a tense pause, but when she looks up, Mary is worrying at his bottom lip.

“I, uh. I looked for you, you know.”

Her eyes go wide “Y-you—you did?”

He nods. “But you … moved.”

She mirrors his nodding. “And changed jobs. Twice.”

He taps the tabletop between them. She rubs her palms down her jeans.

“That was kinda a fucked up time for me. I’m afraid I was really shitty to you.”

“Oh no, Mare—”

He holds his hand up. “No, I was. And I’m really fucking sorry about it. If this is it, if I never see you again, you have to know that. That, and you were just about the only good thing in my life for a while. I think I spent years chasing what I gave away with you.”

“Oh, Mare …” she says, too overcome to verbalize anything further.

“Except beating the shit out of Benny. He deserved that, and I’d do it again.”

She laughs, as was his intention.

“Maybe you should have knocked his head harder. He went away for trying to run over his girlfriend, you know?”

Mary’s brow furrows. “No shit?”

“No shit. She survived but ended up in traction.”

His face seems to darken.

“Did I push you into his arms?”

She sighs. “No, Mary. That was my own shitty decision. It’s not like I was at my best either.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” he says almost under his breath.

The two of them stare at each, the conversation seemingly having run its course. Then Mary jumps, and fumbles to get his phone out of his pocket. His eyes scan the screen, then he locks it.

“So … I, uh. Have to go.”

Her blood turns into ice in her veins, and she plasters a smile on her face. “Oh, ok. I understand.”

He slides off the stool, his phone scraping across the table in tandem. He goes to put it in his pocket, then raises it, then half lowers it, then grimaces at her.

“You wouldn’t want to get coffee sometime, would you? I mean, again. Not here. Or here is fine, but as a date.” His faces screw up. “Not like a date date—but like, a get together. To … talk.” His eyebrows form a triangle and he sucks his lips into his mouth, as if that’ll stop him from his verbal diarrhea.

She smiles at him. “I actually would like that very much, Mary.” She holds out her hand, and he hands her his phone.

#angst #mary goore #ficlet #brief #domestic abuse #not by mary #but mary is a dick #female reader 3rd person #n/sfw #longfic #my writing #original content

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randomvarious · 4 years

Video

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Yazoo - “Nobody’s Diary” Fetenhits: The Real 80′s Song released in 1983. Compilation released in 1999. Electropop / Synthpop / New Wave

OK, first of all, let's clear up some of the inevitable confusion. Yazoo is Yazoo in the UK, but in North America, they're Yaz. That's because there was a record label called Yazoo that wouldn't allow the pair to use their name. There was also a small American rock band whose name was Yazoo, too. So that's one thing. The other is that Yazoo/Yaz is not Yazz. Like Yazoo/Yaz though, Yazz is also British and made 80s pop music, but Yazz is just one person. (Also, as this is a blog that writes a lot about electronic music, I feel like I should mention that Yazz's partners in crime, The Plastic Population, are also the inimitable duo of Coldcut, the breaks and trip hop pioneers who gave us the Ninja Tune label.) Furthermore, Yaz is the nickname of Boston Red Sox slugger Carl Yastrzemski, a guy who had 3,419 hits and 452 homerus in 23 seasons! He's not Yazoo/Yaz either! And Yaz is also the brand name of a birth control pill that contains drospirenone that may also be used for other indications! That's not Yaz/Yazoo either! And don't even get me started on the Yaz culture from present-day Iran that existed in the Iron Age or the Yazoo Brewing Company in Tennessee or the Yazoo lawnmower company or the Native American Yazoo tribe from Mississippi or the milk-based flavored beverage from Belgium called Yazoo or the character Yazoo from Final Fantasy VII or the multiple US Navy ships called Yazoo or the YAZ programmer toolkit for development of Z39.50 clients and servers, because none of those are Yazoo/Yaz! Just three different letters, y, a, and z, and yet so many different meanings. And for the rest of this post, rather than refer to them as Yazoo/Yaz, I'm just gonna call them what they always intended themselves to be called, and that is Yazoo.

So who is Yazoo then? Well, they're an early 80s electropop / synthpop / new wave duo that consisted of Vince Clarke, who had just left Depeche Mode after posting their debut album and four fantastic singles at the time, and Alison Moyet, a soulful singer who would go on to achieve a whole lot more with a solo career. The two actually went to the same Saturday music school as kids but had never spoken to each other before teaming up as 21 year olds. However, they were certainly aware of each other's existence. Moyet's first guitarist in her first band just happened to be Clarke's best friend.

In 1981, Moyet, who was a punky pub rock type, placed an ad in Melody Maker looking for someone to collaborate with, and Clarke, who had just left Depeche Mode, was looking to take part in a new project that would allow him to stay on Depeche Mode's label, Mute. He had seen Moyet sing before and loved her work. And he was also the only person who responded to her ad. Moyet wasn't expecting someone all that famous to take her up on her offer and she didn't much care for Depeche Mode, but she decided to do it anyway. Clarke had proven successful and she decided that she wanted to make music with someone who had actually managed to do something with their career, unlike seemingly everyone else she knew.

Immediately, Clarke had a piece of music for Moyet to sing over, and then the demo was brought to Mute, and all of a sudden Yazoo had their first single on their hands, "Only You," which hit #2 in the UK. Together, Clarke and Moyet would spawn two albums, Upstairs at Eric's, followed by You and Me Both, in a matter of 18 months, with the four singles they released in the UK going to the top 20, and three of those hitting the top 3.

But that was it. Despite the fantastic electronic pop music that paired soulful, deep, bluesy vocals with cheery, Kraftwerk-inspired, layered melodies, Clarke and Moyet didn't get along. Clarke was shy and held all his anger in and Moyet was the opposite. Clarke wanted to break the relationship off after one album, but then thought better of it. He thought he'd look like a real pill jumping from project to project after being in a group and doing only one album and then leaving. So Yazoo made their second album, but they knew it was over before they finished recording it. Clarke would build the beats and melodies in the morning and Moyet would swing by at night to record the vocals. There was no active collaboration.

But whatever, man. The shit still bopped. You and Me Both's only single, "Nobody's Diary," went to #3 in the UK and #1 on the US dance charts. It was a little more subdued than their previous output, sure, but the song still rules. Yazoo's formula was simply implacable at the time. Despite the fact that Clarke and Moyet didn't get along, they still managed to spin absolute gold. And here's a nice little quote from the biography section of Yazoo's website:

Yazoo were Kraftwerk through the looking glass - this was electronic pop made by humans, not machines.

And that's because while Kraftwerk and many electronic groups that came after them, from Daft Punk to thousands of techno acts, did everything they could to present themselves as robots or faceless machines, Alison Moyet was in Yazoo to provide that contrasting human element that machines still have yet to figure out how to accurately and convincingly replicate.

Clarke was the machine and Moyet was the soul. That was made even more apparent in the video for "Nobody's Diary" as Moyet sang like a human with natural emotion and Clarke stood as still and emotionless as possible as his fingers played his shoulder-strapped synthesizer as if he had been programmed that way by a microchip that was implanted into his skull before the video was shot.

youtube

Yazoo had a real, unique "ghost in the machine" kind of vibe with their music; the bionic woman; woman and machine. You get the idea. It was captivating fun.

And that shit was foundational, too. It was a long time coming of course, and a lot happened in between, but the late 2000s/early 2010s that gave birth to that female-led indietronica / electropop / dance-pop boom that had acts like Phantogram, Purity Ring and La Roux owes a debt of gratitude to Yazoo. Yazoo ended up laying the initial groundwork so those acts could thrive decades later. They were the first group to so transparently pair the emotional female vocal with that machine-like, Kraftwerkian, electronic pop sound. They definitely inspired groups like LCD Soundsystem, too.

Starting off minimally with its first verse, "Nobody's Diary" is a song that begins to realize itself when Clarke decides to bring in his drum machine and a bassline. With those pieces in place, he sandwiches Moyet's lightly peaked choruses with simple and catchy coasts of leading melodic twee. It's just as well, too. Who knows if Clarke and Moyet ever talked about how to go about doing this song, but his childlike, nostalgic melodies serve this song really well since Moyet wrote the lyrics when she was only 16, before even her first sexual experience.

The last thing I'll add is that Vince Clarke is an absolute master of pop songcraft as someone who just uses synthesizers and drum machines to make his music. He conjured up such a smooth, enjoyable, nuanced ride for this one. It's just so good. I won't call it timeless since it's definitively 80s, but goddamn, does it still go. After Yazoo, Clarke would extend his career indefinitely as half of the even more successful synthpop duo, Erasure.

But Yazoo cannot be ignored. Such a formidable, yet unfortunately fleeting electropop / synthpop / new wave force. So influential in so many ways and such a small catalogue. Wish they gave us more, but at least they gave us some.

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ebthecelebrity · 3 years

Text

Dear Homophobic Parents....

Last Sunday, I was in the kitchen preparing a meal and anticipating Black Excellence on BET. It’s been many years since I watched a BET Awards Show. I had a nostalgic moment. I remembered watching the BET Awards with my parents and being in amazement of the live performances. I reminisced seeing the sexiness of the Black Woman’s curvy shape in beautiful attire and lusting over the masculinity of Black Men who came to either rap poetry or swoon R&B. This Sunday was no different than the other Sundays in the past. Now, as a parent, I was excited to relive those moments with my 9 year old son.

We were about two hours into the BET Awards show after eating dinner and dancing to the latest hit songs and my one and only son was talking my ears off in excitement about the music and the performers. He was amazed at Black Excellence as I was at his age. I poured another glass of Ciroc and pineapple juice when I heard the announcer say, “Next Up, Lil Nas X!” I immediately felt some type of way. It was the way that a mother bear reacted when her baby cubs were in danger. The way that a mother raised hell at the school when she felt her child was being mistreated. The way that a mother takes up for her child who was bullied for being different. The way that a mother watched over her child at a playground. I didn’t know what this feeling was, but I felt it was to protect his innocent ears and eyes.

I was no stranger to Lil Nas X and his recent transformation. His first musical hit “Old Town Road” serenaded my son’s ears two years ago and it was a bop! I even liked it. All the children around the world kept that song on repeat and helped Lil Nas X rise to fame. Since then, without my son’s knowledge, Lil Nas X’s appearance changed. I watched him announce his homosexuality, the infamous “Satanic Shoes”, and the music videos that slowly but surely got a little…..weirder. My son joyfully announced that he was ready to see Lil Nas X.

“Lil Nas X! Yes! I love his music Mom!”

I remained quiet as I didn’t know how to handle how I felt about my son seeing him perform. It wasn’t that I didn’t want my son to be educated about homosexuality, I just wasn’t prepared to discuss it. My adorable curly haired son didn’t know anything about homosexuality, honestly, I just kept him away from it. I knew after a shocking performance that Lil Nas X probably had in store, it was time for the conversation. The BET Awards Show resumed, and Lil Nas X showed up on our TV screen, draped in gold Egyptian attire with gold eyeshadow to match. I remained silent, looking over at my son every 5 seconds to catch any facial expressions.

At first, the performance I felt was PG-13 and I continued to tune in, watching Lil Nas X’s hips sway to the music. It was still awkward silence in the living room between us. My son was zoomed into the whole performance as this was the first time he heard the song, “Montero (Call Me By Your Name).” 3 minutes and 30 seconds into the performance, Lil Nas X was concluding his performance with a grand finale, which I knew would be shocking because let’s be real, that’s who he was. I watched him grab the back of a back up dancer’s head and engage in a deep french kiss with him. That move sent out a panic scream from my son. I looked over and witnessed him turning his eyes away and yelling, “Ewwww.” He repeatedly asked me “Why did he kiss a man? Mom, why did he do that?” At this moment, I knew that I had sheltered my child or was it that I avoided this moment? I wanted to sink into my recliner and continue sipping my ciroc and pineapple.

Two of my best friends are gay and proud of it. I have a few other friends who are tri-sexual or maybe they are bi-sexual. Let’s just say they have dealt with the same sex and have no true preference. Either way, I never judged them or their actions. I just loved seeing them happy with whomever they loved, shit, I didn’t care if they were with a fucking dog. I am the last person to be homophobic, but watching my son feel distressed in seeing two men kiss on television triggered me. I had to ask myself why. If I were alone watching Lil Nas X’s performance, I wouldn’t have cared. It was something about watching his eyes, watching something that disturbed him. I didn’t know if I felt upset or if I felt annoyed. It just hit me like a ton of bricks. I wasn’t prepared.

I cut the volume down on the television, which was now on a commercial and tried to calm him down. For the past 9 years, I’ve only exposed and taught him that Mommy and Daddy love each other, that Mommy loves men, and that Men and Women deserve to be together to reproduce and make offsprings as I’ve done with him. At this point, I felt I failed as a parent who should have been exposed this to him sooner. Let’s face it, the internet would have taught him before I did. Had I really been hiding homosexuality and refraining from discussing it? Sadly, yes, I have.

“Braylon, some people love others who are the same sex as them. Does that make sense?” I asked him.

“Two men together is disgusting!” He exclaimed.

I quickly corrected him. “No, it’s just not what you like, but it’s not disgusting. People have a preference in life, just like you do,” I said.

“I don’t like Lil Nas X anymore Mom,” He pouted.

At this point, I knew he needed time to digest this and I didn’t want to upset him anymore. I proceeded to let him know that same sex relationships are ok and if he doesn’t want to be in one that is ok too.

The rest of the night with us watching The BET Awards was a little mute and cumbersome. I knew that shocked feeling as a child so well. I felt the same way when I saw porn for the first time. I may have even been his age. I just remember feeling disgusted and curious all at the same time. It made me look at the male species differently. It made me curious on why people had sex and how it made them feel. The thin line of the mind of children can be easily influenced or easily nonjudgmental. This was why I felt a certain way about the performance. I tried to decipher which one was Braylon. Would he want to experience kissing a little boy now? Or would he not be judgemental, allowing people to freely love and live their life?

It’s been over a week now since the infamous BET Awards. I wouldn’t change a thing about our experience, but my mindset as a parent. How could I continue to go on allowing my son to see hetrosexual couples kiss on television and not feel as triggered as I did with Lil Nas X? No longer would I allow that to happen. No longer would I remain silent and conceal homosexuality around him. He deserves to be educated. With Pride Month ending recently, that moment was a life changing eye opener to raise my kid with the knowledge of LGBTQ and the issues that also surround the lifestyle. Discrimination, mental illness, depression, suicide, anxiety, and many more is faced everyday. Wow, what a humbling moment this was for me as a parent to shift my way of thinking.

Dear Homophobic Parents, you may not be homophobic with your gay friend, neighbor, coworker, aquaintance or family member but your biases regarding your child can no longer be tolerated. I encourage you to raise your young Kings and Queens to know that homosexuality is as normal as heterosexuality. Teach them that God is love. Yes, protect your children at all costs, but to shy away from these conversations only hurts them in the long run. Don’t be silent about the realities of the world we live in. Would you still love your child if they came out to you as gay? If you answered yes, then you already have the right mindset. To the Black Community, who continues to accept the sexual predator, but denies the gay family member, STOP THIS SHIT! To the LBGTQ Community, continue to live your truth and take PRIDE in that!

#homosexuality #gay #lbgtq #betawards #lilnasx #parenting

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yoonguurt · 4 years

Text

The King

A/N: I got excited and decided to post the first part a day early. Oops. I am so happy to start off this series and I love this so much. This amazing moodboard was made by the even more amazing @bopping-to-my-kpop! I love it so much!

Seungcheol knew this day would come his entire life. He has been preparing to become king almost from the time he could speak. Being the eldest has its perks, he can always pull rank when Ji-yoo and Chan were arguing with him about something and to be honest he loved that, but now the role he was born to play was upon him. Sitting in front of all of his people, he put on a smile and gave a bow. “As king, I promise to always do my best to make sure our entire kingdom flourishes. Thank you for all of your support” he spoke loudly as he gave a finally wave and disappeared behind a curtain.

He could hear the chatter on the other side of the curtain and he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He dragged his feet on the way back to the meeting room only to receive a scolding coming from his right. “Pick up your feet. You were raised better than that. Why are you acting like this is the end of the world? You knew this day would come eventually.” Jeonghan, his best friend and adviser walked beside him with a slight scowl at his behavior. He knew Jeonghan was right, this wasn’t the end of the world, and he was happy that he was king. He had so many ideas on how to improve the life of his people, it was just that suddenly despite all his preparations, he didn’t feel at all prepared.

You stood in the hallway with the new maid, trying to keep the smile on your face. This one had managed to step on the curtains and cause a huge tear. You remember being new in the palace so you had sympathy, but this was the third accident she had caused today. You were thinking of sending her to the kitchen where at least her accidents could be contained to where important eyes couldn’t see. “Seo-yun, it’s ok, accidents happen. Let’s go to the kitchen to talk to Mingyu about helping him out, yeah?” You spoke softly, not wanting to upset the girl further. You had always made sure not to talk harshly to those under your leadership, you didn’t feel like that helped anyone in the long run.

You had begun working as a maid at the palace in your early teens and you had thoroughly enjoyed it. The head maid at that time was definitely strict, but she had never given up on you. You worked your way from scrubbing the bathroom floors, to taking over your mentor’s position when the time came for her to step down. She had told you she had chosen you to take over and you were flooded with happiness, but you weren’t sure you were up to the task. She had always said you were a great worker, but you were a little too soft. When you brought your worries up, she gave you a tired smile and told you to use that to your advantage, just because she was rough around the edges didn’t mean you had to be. Use what worked for you. So, you had and it had worked. You had an amazing staff under you and you were looked up to.

Leading Seo-yun down the hall to the kitchen, you came across Seungcheol and Jeonghan, and you quickly stopped to curtsey before the new king. You had known him for years, and you knew he hated when you did it, but he was king now and you knew to show the proper respect. You heard a sigh and lifted your head to see a slight pout on Seungcheol’s face and a narrow eyed Jeonghan. “You know I really hate when you do that, Y/N” he spoke to you in a rather casual manner. Moving your eyes to the girl on your left and back to his quickly you gave him a quick “Just showing the proper respect, Your Majesty” causing a snort from Jeonghan before he quickly recovered. The adviser’s eyes suddenly grew wide in recognition, “You! You’re the one who broke the vase this morning! Do you know how important that vase was?” You cleared your throat before he could start in again. Seungcheol took that moment to tell his friend to calm down. You took that opportunity to curtsey again before giving your parting words. “It was an honor as always, Your Majesty, but I really need to get Seo-yun to the kitchen to see if that’s a better fit for her.” you shifted your eyes to Jeonghan before shifting them back to Seungcheol and continuing. “Have a good day, sir.” You gave him a genuine smile, and hurried your newest maid down the hall, while your heart tried to resume its normal pace.

Seungcheol watched you walk away, invisible strings tugging at his heart, and Jeonghan nudged him signaling it was time to continue towards the meeting room. As he reached his old familiar desk, he let out another sigh, prompting another scolding from his trusty adviser. He flipped through the papers on his desk, looking to see what business he had to attend to in the coming days. Most were routine things, there would be some visiting nobles, an ambassador from the neighboring kingdom, and it seems he had a theft case to review which was not something he had to do much. Once paper in particular caught his eye. As his eyes scanned the words on the page, they widened the farther along he got.

“Why so soon? I JUST got crowned today. Why are we already planning balls to find me a wife?” His tone gave away just how annoyed Seungcheol was with this process. Sure, he’d always known that he would need a queen, but he didn’t realize he’d need to start the search this soon after being crowned. “Can you calm down, you’re giving me a headache.” Seungcheol watched as his friend rubbed his temples with a sigh as he continued speaking. “Who knows how long it’s going to take you to choose someone, especially since I have to make you stop watching Y/N walk away. It’s better to start the process now.” He knew Jeonghan was right, but that didn’t mean he liked it. Doing his best to force a smile, he looked up. “So. When’s the ball?”

“I mean, she’s a little accident prone, but you can work with that. Please, Mingyu? I can see she works hard, she just needs a starting point.” You knew Mingyu would give in to you, he may have been a big man, but he was sweet. “Ok fine, but she needs to try her best. Jeonghan just informed we that we have a ball next weekend and I have a whole menu to plan and execute” Ball? You hadn’t heard anything about a ball? Jeonghan must have forgotten to tell you when he was busy yelling at Seo-yun. You gave Mingyu a hug, thanking him immensely and told Seo-yun to try hard and to be careful before turning and heading to search for Seokmin to see if he knew anything about this ball.

As Seungcheol lay in his chambers, he thought over the events of the day. Being crowned had felt like such an honor and he was very happy to have the crown, but the other things not so much. He wanted to set into motion helping his kingdom, did he really have to marry someone for that to happen? And someone he didn’t even love at that? Without really meaning for it to, his mind shifted. He began thinking about the encounter in the hallway. He knew that you had only curtseyed like that to set an example for your new maid, but he still hated it. He hated when you acted as if you were below him, because in his eyes you weren’t. You were just Y/N who he had known for years. Just the one woman who owned his heart.

You awake before the sun the next, heart a little heavy. You had tried to talk yourself into not feeling this way, but it was no use. You didn’t want there to be a ball to find a bride, but you also knew there was no other option. He was a king and you were simply just staff, you had grown used to that feeling, but today it hurt worse.

Seungcheol sat at his desk in the meeting room, finalizing the guest list for the ball. He had been at this for hours and he just needed a break. He stood and stretched, moving into the hallway to walk about the palace. He thought it might be nice to visit with some of the staff, keep up a good relationship with the people he employed. He passed the visiting noble, Seungkwan, in the hall and greeted him with a small hello and kept about his way. Thinking on it briefly, he turned to head towards the kitchen. He knew you spent a good amount of time there, but if anyone asked, he could tell them he was checking on the menu. As he neared the kitchen, Jeonghan came storming out, covered in flour. Seungcheol opened his mouth to ask what happened only to be met with a hand and a swift “Don’t.” Chuckling to himself, he turned into the kitchen.

For you, watching Seungcheol walk into a room was like looking directly into the sun. He always seemed to just shine and light up the whole room. He came in, eyes searching the room until he found yours. He gave you a large, genuine smile before turning to Mingyu. You could hear them discussing the menu for the ball, and your heart did that nasty twist again. You tried to focus on your task of sweeping, but that proved difficult. Especially when you heard him say your name. “Oh,and Y/N while you’re here. Do you mind walking with me? I’d like to go over some details for the ball.” You had never wanted to say no to him more than you did right now, but you did your best to smile and nodded.

Walking through the halls, you were both silent. Seungcheol wanted to speak, but he couldn't seem to make himself. When you had finally reached the ballroom, he had finally talked himself into letting the words flow, but it seemed his mouth and his mind had two different plans. "We've decided to use blue and gold for the decorations." That was in no way what he had wanted to say. Why had that come out? He didn't want to talk about decorations, he wanted to ask you if you would be attending. Looking toward you, he saw you give a small nod and look around the room to start your planning. After staring at you for a few beats, he opened his mouth to speak again.

“Will you be attending the ball?” You heard the words come out of his mouth, but you weren’t sure you were hearing them correctly. Why did it matter if you were attending? And why would he want to know? You continued to look around the room, deciding what was going to go where. You could hang nice royal blue curtains from the window on the right, and do gold curtains on the left. You knew there was a nice gold and blue rug you could have placed at the door. You needed to make sure the floor got polished so it would shine while guests were dancing.”Y/N?” you heard him call you and you realized you had been so lost in your preparations that you hadn’t answered his question. He looked at you with soft eyes, awaiting your answer. “I hadn’t planned on it. It’s my night off and it isn’t really a place for me.” You spoke softly, eyes on the floor, silently hoping that would be the end of it. Your heart couldn’t take this conversation, and to be honest you really weren’t sure you could hide your disappointment. Seungcheol was quiet for a moment, seemingly taking in your answer before he gave you one of his own. “I’d really like you to be there. It would mean alot to me.” Right then you knew, there was no other option for you. It would hurt to watch him with the many women that would certainly be attending, but you wouldn’t tell him no.

On the morning of the ball, Seungcheol found himself rather anxious. He knew there was a lot riding on tonight. He didn’t HAVE to choose a lady to court tonight, but he knew that it would look good if he did. He didn’t want to rush this process, though. He had hopes things would go his way, but he was ready to fall to a backup plan if they didn’t. He had thought long and hard about his decision and he knew that he had to at least give it a shot. He spent the day making final decisions and making sure everything was as he wanted it. He stood in his room getting ready for the ball with Jeonghan at his side. He gestured to the corner to his right, looking his trusted companion in the eye. “Have that delivered to Y/N’s room.” He could tell his words had somewhat shocked his friend, but they had also talked about his thoughts and though Jeonghan had told him to really think hard, he knew he would be supported if this was what he really wanted. “Are you sure about this?” Jeonghan’s words made him chuckle slightly, before he nodded. He had never been more sure of anything in his life.

Once you were done with making sure everything was absolutely perfect, you headed to your room. Of course you had told Seungcheol you would be at the ball, despite your better judgement, but now you had no idea what you were going to do. Sure, you had some nice clothes, but nothing fitting of a ball. You opened your door, ready to just flop on your bed for a moment to think about how you were going to handle this night, and stopped before you could fall to the bed. Something was amiss. Laid out on your bed was a dress, a dress that you had never seen. It’s long dark blue fabric spread over your bed, ends falling off the edges. Placed neatly on top was a card. “I’d be honored if you wore this tonight- Cheol”

Seungcheol had sweaty palms as he waited to see if you were actually coming. He had already had a few dances and while they were pleasant and beautiful women, they weren’t you. Their smiles didn’t light up rooms and their laughs didn’t make his heart beat faster. As his dance ended, he shifted his weight between feet, knowing someone else would approach him soon. He just happened to look up at the perfect moment. There you were. The dress fit you just as perfectly as he had hoped, and they blue went nicely with your skin, gold trim at the bottom making the look complete. It was like he lost all ability to think. He just stood there for a moment, mouth agape before Jeonghan drifted by and closed muttering to him about just going.

You looked up to see Seungcheol walking in your direction, and he looked divine. His dark hair fell just slightly into his eyes, and you weren’t sure you had ever seen anything more beautiful. His smile lit up his face and your heart just melted right then. All the nervousness and worry you had felt before stepping inside the room melted with it. He stopped in front of you, smile still prominent on his face. “You look beautiful, Y/N.” You blushed slightly at his words, looked down and mumbled a thank you. Lifting your head, you noticed his hand was outstretched towards you and you gently placed your hand in his. He led you to the center of the floor, and while you could see the many disgruntled looks you were getting, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. If he was going to marry someone else, you would at least have this dance.

Seungcheol held you close as the music began, nervousness still slightly present. As the two of you moved, it seemed to him as if time had slowed. He could still see and hear the people around, but only a little. He felt as if he had never belonged more than he did in that moment. Neither of you dared speak, afraid to break whatever spell had been cast on you, you just danced. When the song ended, he could hear the soft, sad sigh you made and he felt his heart twist. He never wanted you to be sad and if there was anything in the world he could do to keep that from happening, he would. A woman came up to his left, trying to catch his attention. He gave her a small smile, before letting her know that he would be dancing another dance with you.

You couldn’t hide your surprise at his turning way of the noble woman, but he just smiled before bowing and asking for another dance. You quickly agreed and the music started up again. You were expecting silence again, but Seungcheol seemed to have other plans.”Y/N, I want to thank you for accepting my invitation. I’m so very glad you joined me tonight.” You hid your face slightly, telling him it was no big deal. “Oh, but it is. It means the world to me that you came.” You couldn’t stop the word from falling out of your mouth, even though you wanted to. “Why?” The look on his face was a mixture of confusion and hurt, and you wished you could take it back. He quickly regained his composure, stopping the dance to hold your face in between his hands. “I’m supposed to be looking for someone to be my queen, but I don’t need to. I think I had decided on a queen years ago, it just took me until now to say it. It’s you, Y/N. Always has been. Will you be my queen?”

Your face was a mess of shock, you could just feel it. Seungcheol’s eyes never left your face, waiting for you to answer him. Tears pricked the edges of your eyes. After all these years of pining for a man you could never have, the emotions finally let themselves out. Your hand left your side and landed on top of his hands, and the worry hit. You looked around the room, expecting to see many angry faces, but were met with more smiles than scowls. Even Jeonghan had a small smile. You looked back to Seungcheol and gave him a wide smile and a nod. He gave you a smile back, before planting his lips firmly on yours for a brief but passionate kiss. You were slightly shocked still, but the happiness outweighed that. It was odd to think that you would be looked at as queen one day, but then again, you never could tell Seungcheol no.

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tag list: @kwanisms @kpop---scenarios @bopping-to-my-kpop @sadienita @lilithpooped @jookyunhoevercoupshoe @soundofseventeen @trishmarieco @klessii @heroesfan101 @oncetheearl @nocommitment-17 @onlygotafewdollas @mingyulonglegs

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harrysdimples · 3 years

Text

evermore track by track review (reaction?)

you know what time it is babieeeeeee......

willow

lovely little plucky guitar. I like the piano arrangement in the background. her vocals sound really lovely in the chorus and in the back of the second verse. i’m going to try and judge this as a separate project from folklore because it’s supposed to be just a complementary project but inevitably there will be comparisons. the 1 as an opening track is probably my preference over this I think on first listen. the bridge (?) is probably my favourite part of the song before the 90s trend line lol (just takes me out the song, kinda like the tweet line that’s in the lakes) but her vocals and how mature her voice sounds are just really light and airy and it’s nice to hear. but this is a lot more rhythmic than most of folklore which is something I appreciate and has enough dynamics so that you’re not bored, although the outro could’ve maybe been shortened a bit (but that’s a nitpicky thing lol). that’s her man!

ok I realised half way through happiness that I HAD PUT THE ALBUM ON SHUFFLE BY ACCIDENT WHICH IS BLASPHEMOUS AND SOMETHING I HATE DOING. I apologise sincerely lmao every song after this is in order with the album track list.

happiness

love a synth. ‘I can’t face reinvention’ ok bitch call me out ??? the lyrics are very lovely, as always. what’s/who’s this about ? lmao. it’s very pretty but not sure it’s going anywhere? more instrumentation could’ve maybe elevated this song just because I feel the lyrics are so flowery and beautiful that they deserve to either be in complete isolation (like from the dining table’s production) or some grandiose orchestral arrangement to properly show off how great and genuinely heartbreaking they are. I have no doubt at some point i’ll lie in the dark at some point and sob to this though loooool.

champagne problems

ah bitch. the opening line already got me. again, the lyrics on this one are cutting me deep and I really like the production in the second half of the song, it really picks up the song when I was worried the production wasn’t going to be for me. the background vocals and harmonies are lovely. I think the lyricism of this song is so important and reminds me of what jack said in the long pond sessions about people with mental health issues never receiving proper recognition for just doing as okay as they can be because to other people, it’s either not enough or they just don’t get how difficult it is to maintain that level of ‘normalcy’. The idea of people dismissing things as ‘champagne problems’ is so poignant when you think of the fact that so many people disregard mental health issues until they’re directly affected by it in some way and treat others as outsiders/bad apples/something to only remember as a cautionary tale and to be forgotten otherwise. the numbness of trying to feel things (like going on the train) and participating in life and trying to believe that you deserve something good, a relationship, love etc but knowing that people are only waiting for you to fail so they can inevitably move on is so sad. my favourite out of the 3 tracks so far.

gold rush

good old jack antonoff production. girl how many people are wanting to get with joe ???? I really like the lyricism again, and the ‘what must it be like to grow up that beautiful’ bit kinda reminds of olivia’s instrumentation for some reason lol. I wish this hit a little harder because it’s on the precipice of greatness but doesn’t get quite there for me, kinda like the archer. loved the production, but I had anticipated it to have this big build up which it didn’t quite hit for me. I am listening to this currently at night with my blinds shut but I know that when it’s in the daytime/sun this will sound so good, so i’m excited to replay this one. update: it’s the next day and I LOVE this.

tis the damn season

hm. this one was pretty middling for me i’m ngl. I don’t think i’ve had enough love/life experience to really relate to this that much (which isn’t taylor or the song’s fault obvs) but I found it hard to ~connect to and the production didn’t really excite me enough to feel too passionate about it. very much enjoyed the “So I'll go back to L.A. and the so-called friends, Who'll write books about me, if I ever make it” line though lol!

tolerate it

I really like this. really encapsulated the feeling of trying your hardest to meet someone’s expectations of you/your relationship and fitting yourself into parameters to suit their needs/what they want and yet you’re still considered on the outskirts of their life. Trying desperately to make that person care as much as you do for them, but in reality your actions just further the reasons why they don’t want you and why your actions are ignored/silently belittled. Feels like this is a good companion piece to a lot of the folklore tracks and could’ve fitted on that album yet is still different enough to stand out. will def be coming back to this.

no body, no crime (feat. HAIM)

ok so taylor’s having her before he cheats moment?? someone should be working on a mashup asap. you know i’m a sucker for country yeehaw bops so i’ll definitely be playing this on repeat lol, so far probably the most upbeat track along with gold rush and this is probably my favourite track so far. the storytelling through the lyricism is fabulous and I really love the little production elements like danielle saying “she was with me dude” lol, I don’t have a lot of experience/references for “real” country music so if this is a little corny idk but I like it anyway lmao

dorothea

this was a sweet song, might be completely off the mark with this interpretation, but I sort of viewed this as taylor speaking to her younger self and telling her how she can always go back to who she was after becoming too enchanted with fame and the troubles that come with it/experiencing the consequences of fame, and that inevitably it’ll be okay in the end. a nice reassuring, pleasant song. not sure how much replay value it’ll have for me personally but I appreciate it :’)

coney island feat. the national

I like this for the most part. I think it’ll be a grower but I can see this moving up in my ranks once I listen to it a bit more. the second half of the song after the bridge is definitely better than the first and I really like it, but the first half isn’t my favourite. I think within some of the lyrics there are some clunky lines and I’m not sure how well the dueting partner works (idk if that’s aaron dessner or someone else?) but I think another softer (?) male voice could’ve gone better with it, or just taylor herself. the instrumentation and production on this song is fantastic though and I really love the bridge (although the idea of joe and taylor coming together to write about all of taylor’s exes makes me lol)

ivy:

the chord progression really reminds me of like 80% of folklore and idk if this track was “necessary” even though she’s perfectly entitled to her art obvs. but in the context of the album idk if this was needed, probably the most filler-like of all of them so far (for me personally). it’s sort of like a long poem to me and the subject matter of infidelity is always interesting when taylor covers it, but idk, this didn’t do too much for me on first listen

cowboy like me

this feels like a movie or video game soundtrack song, I always appreciate a good guitar solo and the instrumentation in this song is great. I don’t know how much this goes anywhere until the bridge but I love the line “now you hang from my lips, like the gardens of babylon, with your boots beneath my bed, forever is the sweetest con”. I think this has the potential to be a major grower on me though purely bc of how melodic it is and how “vibey” it is.

long story short

yeah this wasn’t really for me. I can appreciate it’s objectively a well produced song with some good lyrics, it just didn’t really click for me sadly upon first listen.

marjorie

yeah so this made me sob. as some of you may know I lost my grandma two weeks ago suddenly so...yeah, this song just really hit me. this is a beautiful track.

closure

what is going on here on this day lmao? reaaaaaaallly not a fan of the production and the synthetic (?) drums that were used on this track and I don’t think the use of repetition in the chorus’ lyricism really works that well here. idk it just feels a little unfinished to me

evermore feat. bon iver

I think this is too lyrically dense for my brain to properly intake after the long road it took to get to this track lol so I think i’ll need some time with it. I don’t think bon iver’s addition works as well as exile but I like the second half of the song which he’s in, in comparison to the first half, it does kinda feel like two songs put into one though. taylor’s vocals sound nice though.

in conclusion:

favourites: tolerate it, gold rush, champagne problems, no body, no crime, marjorie

in between/grower: cowboy like me

meh: tis the damn season, willow, doreathea, evermore

didn’t really like: ivy, long story short, closure

I feel like i’m going to be crucified for saying this but this feels like a lover-fied version of folklore ajfkhsas if that makes ANY sense to anyone but my own brain. I said when I did this same kind of post for folklore that the album did what the concept for lover tried to do (the love letter to different kinds of love) 10x better and I was happy to see this kind of direction from her. I still love folklore and I think it’s a true piece of art and it ranks high in my tiers of taylor albums, but this just kinda misses the mark for me for the most part (on first listen). It’s very lyrically dense, which is nice, but much less accessible than folklore to me in terms of melodies and the overall structure of some of the songs, which is again, fine, but not necessarily what I had anticipated going into this album and generally usually isn’t my thing. for all that i’ve said about jack’s production in some songs on previous albums of taylor’s, his presence here is missed imo. I’ve expressed that I don’t particularly enjoy long albums because eventually the flow of the album is lost, and that is true here. around the ivy/long story short stretch it kinda loses ground which is a shame because there is some beautiful lyricism in there, but it’s even more susceptible to risking being brought down by the sequencing when it’s a sister album to another project and will end up being compared to that and the tracks there. given the style of music this is in, the fact that it’s a sister album and so long, it’s got a lot against it and I don’t know if it manages to overcome those hurdles for me personally. It’s like what harry said about sequencing, the track listing is so important imo to the purpose and arc of the album that you want to tell and I feel like there could’ve been a lot more “editing” of this project to make it stand up to the highs of folklore imo, or potentially editing down folklore to combine it with some of the really strong tracks on evermore like goldrush, no body no crime etc. I don’t know if the narrative of this album is unique enough to stand against folklore and some of taylor’s other albums for me. I will be returning to these songs for sure, but the sequencing and overall structure of this album kinda lets it down. I can’t help but ponder if this album will age well in comparison to folklore, or both albums will age well with the narrative fuelling it being created in quarantine and as a product of boredom. if folklore wins AOTY at the grammys (which it seems it’s secured to at this point), it’s going to be tied to the “corona year” so it’ll be interesting to see where these projects end up and how well received they are in years to come vs taylor’s other projects and how they’ve aged. we’ll see! i’d probably give it a 7.5/10 in comparison to the 9/10 for folklore.

#ruth rambles #taylor swift

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