#banger lines... i am approaching you... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

welcometothejianghu · 5 months

Text

Welcome to another round of W2 Tells You What You Should See, where W2 (me) tries to sell you (you) on something you should be watching. Today's choice: 琅琊榜/Nirvana in Fire.

Nirvana in Fire is a 2015 historical series best described as either a complicated succession drama set in the premodern Chinese imperial palace, or the story of a man who didn't die a decade ago and has decided to make it everyone else's problem.

And really, I almost feel silly giving my glib little summary, because Nirvana in Fire is so well-known of a property. It's a classic for a reason, and that reason is that it's legitimately very good. This show is what happens when you adapt a solid story, get a bunch of very talented actors, and throw a huge amount of money at it. It's incredibly popular and highly acclaimed, and it earned all of the hype.

Still, while I bet there are few people adjacent to c-drama stuff who've never heard of Nirvana in Fire, I'm sure there are plenty who haven't watched it. After all, it looks like one of those slow, serious shows with a lot of ponderous talking and no joy. If that's the impression you've been given, I could imagine looking at the 54-episode commitment and saying, I don't need that in my life.

I am here to tell you you're wrong. It is a banger of a show. It's tense. It's funny. It's heartbreaking. It’s exceptionally clever. It’s jaw-droppingly stupid. It’s romantic. It’s tragic. It has smart plots and bizarre subplots. And that's not even touching the thing with the yeti.

So in case you're one of those people who's heard of Nirvana in Fire, but has put off watching it for one reason or another, I'm here with five reasons I think you should try it.

1. Epic Shit

Did you like the Lord of the Rings? More specifically, did you really like the second Peter Jackson film? Great, then you're all set for this.

I guess I could have called this Game of Thrones without the dragons, but that's not actually the vibe at all. Game of Thrones is much more sensational and salacious, with all the blood and butts and what-not. The Tolkien comparison is more apt, I think, because Nirvana in Fire is equally about as wholesome as you can get in a property where dudes are still getting stabbed all the time.

This is a show about vengeance. And yeah, justice for the fallen, sure, that's fine too. But mostly it's about a bunch of good people joining forces to make sure the bastards who did wrong pay, with their lives as necesary.

The problem, though, is that these bastards are incredibly powerful, which means that a pure brute-force approach isn't going to work. Accordingly, this quickly becomes a story about the power of smart teamwork to exact retribution on some people who can (and did!) legally get away with murder -- and our heroes are some of the people with their necks most on the line if anything goes wrong.

Don't let the Middle Earth comparison fool you into thinking this is all epic swordfights. It's not. (I mean, for one thing, as well-funded as this project is, it doesn't have Peter Jackson Money.) The vast majority of the tension in the show comes from dialogue and slow, terrible realizations. The fight scenes are almost a relief from the nail-biting intensity of intimate conversations about getting a letter from somebody's ex-wife or returning a book.

All told, the show has that incredible almost-RPG vibe of going through all the little subquests and cutscenes you find along the way to defeat the final boss. The plot carefully unravels a multi-tendriled mystery told to you by people in incredible costumes. It doesn't get much more epic than that.

(Nirvana in Fire is also a cautionary tale about how you should be very careful with who gets invited to your birthday party.)

2. A chronically ill protagonist

Okay, right in the first episode, it is established that the main character has three whole completely different names and an old nickname. I'm going to call him Mei Changsu for the duration of this rec post, but let the record show that I could just have easily gone with one of the other three.

What you learn in that same first episode is that Mei Changsu used to be a palace insider, the cocky son of a noble family, only now nearly everyone he used to know thinks he's dead. Also, he's not far off from being actually dead -- he has an unspecified terminal condition that's mostly managed, provided he stays in his little mountain hideaway with his handsome doctor bestie and doesn't return to his old stomping ground and start kicking over hornets' nests.

So guess what he's about to do.

I have to make a note of how brilliant the casting is here: Hu Ge is an action actor! He is a kickpuncher of a man! And I think it's great that you can sort of see his frustration, as well as Mei Changsu's, at having to spend the whole series wrapped in countless layers of fabric and/or lying in bed while everyone around him gets to be the badass action heroes.

Mei Changsu's not faking it, either -- he's actually dying. He expends his energy where he thinks it's necessary, and sometimes that means he has to spend the following week in bed. He's constantly frustrated with himself for what he can't do anymore. He's racing a clock, and that clock is his own failing body. If he dies, the only hope anyone here has for justice dies with him.

He gets two love interests that the show treats pretty much equally. One's a lady general who wasn't even a love interest in the book. The other's the handsome prince who was initially going to be his textual romantic partner in same book, until the author hopped genres from danmei to general historical drama. I can't even call this a love triangle, because there's no competition. He just gets a wife and a husband -- in that he gets neither, because circumstances and his own illness keep him distant from them. He lies to both of then about his condition (among other things). He wants to be with them both and knows he can't be with either. And they in turn have to learn to accept what of him they can and can't have.

(Also, Nihuang (her) and Jingyan (him) are both incredibly gorgeous, which is exactly what bisexual genius Mei Changsu deserves.)

Obviously this isn't a perfect representation of life with chronic illness, largely because Mei Changsu is an incredily wealthy man who lives in a universe with what's basically magic medicine. However, I've seen the story's treatment of him and his condition resonate with a lot of chronically ill viewers, so even with the fantasy layer on it, there's definitely something there.

3. Dave

I have already told the story of how Meng Zhi became "Dave," but long story short, he's such a Dave that I legitimately forget his character's real name. He embodies Daveness. He's The Ultimate Dave.

Dave is an excellent fighter, a loyal friend -- and a terrible liar. He's possbly the only straightforward character in the entire show. When he's asked to be duplicitous, he's comically bad at it. Dave will never do a heel turn. I was misled at first by his semi-evil facial hair, but I have seen the error of my ways. Dave is pure lawful good.

And the reason I list Dave as such a selling point is that having a Dave means you always know what's going on. This is because Dave never knows what's going on, and he has no ego about that, so he asks questions, and other characters have to explain to him what just happened, and that is how you figure out what's going on.

It's an incredibly smart move on the drama's part, because some of the (very fun) schemes are so complicated that there's no way for you, the viewer, to understand them just by watching. Without the internal monologues and omniscent narration of a book, the machinations are opaque. You need things explained -- but why would the schemers explain their schemes? Well, Dave needs some exposition, so here you go.

So if you're worried that you might be left feeling stupid by a show where so many sneaky people are hatching so many complex plans, worry not! Like the good man he is, Dave has your back.

4. A Million Amazing Antagonists

If you like bad guys, this is a show for you. This show has brilliant bad guys all the way down. It has bad guys at every turn. It has bad guys for every taste. Welcome to Big Liang's Big Bad Guy Emporium, where we guarantee you'll walk out of here with a bad guy you like, or your money back!

(And yes, this set of pictures is also to say that their costume budget was entirely well-spent.)

Without getting too far into spoilers, I will say that the basic situation underlying the whole series is this: The emperor has done a lot of bad things, and he has enlisted a bunch of people's help in hiding those bad things, so much so that many of those other people have done even more bad things the emperor didn't even know about -- and then everyone has gone to great lengths to cover those up as well. Our protagonists spend the whole series unraveling this colossal shitshow and bringing people to task for their crimes.

So really, if you're going to spend 54 episodes taking down the baddies, they've got to be baddies you love to see taken down. And these are -- in part because all of them have crystal-clear, rock-solid motivations for their actions. Nobody here is a moustache-twirling comic-book-villain baddie. They're all bad for reasons that are very understandable in their individual contexts. And not a single one of them is going to go down without a fight.

5. World's Best Mom

(Sidebar: The fact that four out of five of my reasons to watch the show are individual or groups of characters should be your strongest indicator that this is an intensely character-driven story.)

This is not a Dead Mom Show. Okay, some moms are dead, but mostly this is a Moms Are Alive And Often Cause Problems Show, which is a lot of what makes the palace drama so delicious. But there is one Good Mom who stands out above all the rest: Consort Jing.

Played with perfect grace and devastating politeness by the stunning Liu Mintao, Consort Jing is a skilled doctor and excellent baker who starts the show with a low-level status among the women of the palace. She swallows down all kinds of mistreatment because she's not in a place to oppose it -- and when she can retaliate, it must only be through soft power. She loves her jock son with all her heart, but because of both their relatively poor positions in the hierarchy, she doesn't get to see him all that much. She wants to be an asset to him, while all the time she has to fear becoming a liability.

She is also the smartest person in any room that she's in, unless she's in a room with Mei Changsu, and even then it may be a tie.

There are lots of great characters in the show that I could have highlighted here, and plenty of them are women, but Consort Jing in particular never ceases to impress me. She is trapped in a gilded cage, married to a man who [lengthy list of spoilers that are traumatic to her in particular], and held hostage by how every time she even looks like she's out of line, it puts both her and her boy in danger. She's the most vulnerable of any of our good guys. Kind of like Wang Zhi, she's got to be clever or she's dead.

Consort Jing is not part of Mei Changsu's original plan. She figures out his plan and makes herself part of it -- and entirely remotely, as she and he aren't even in the same room until episode 40 or so. She puts herself in great danger to make sure he succeeds, not because it will necessarily do her any good, but because Jingyan needs him. This woman has been captain of the Mei Changsu/Jingyan ship for like twenty years already.

Oh, and did I mention her outfits?

I love you, Consort Mom.

Are you ready to watch it yet?

Get it on Viki! Get it on YouTube! Get it on YouTube but in a different playlist! (And also maybe get it on Amazon? Not in my region, but maybe in yours.)

I will warn you that it does take off running -- I think I saw someone say it introduces nineteen characters in the first episode? I was worried that I'd be too innundated by situations and flashbacks and names to be able to follow. By the second or third episode, though, I was rolling with it. So if you feel like you're struggling at the beginning, stick with it a bit. See if you don't feel it start to click.

...Man, reading over this post has left me going, oh, but I missed that! and that! and that guy! And yeah, the truth is that there are just so many great things about the show that limiting myself to only five (and being limited to only thirty images) was tough. I'm sure that people reblogging will add their own must-see elements.

Truly, this is a show that deserves its reputation. It may not be for everyone, but if this is the kind of thing that you like, it is a shining example of that thing.

Besides, you have to love a production where everyone was clearly having just a whole lot of fun being big ol' costumed dorks.

#nirvana in fire #lang ya bang #琅琊榜 #i made this #rec post

378 notes · View notes

helloalycia · 27 days

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐎𝐑 𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 [𝐓𝐖𝐎] —𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐎𝐑

summary: Jackie and you become closer and she takes it as a challenge to make you fall for her charms.

warning/s: none.

author’s note: part 2 is finally here, sorry for the delay! i’ve had a migraine all day otherwise i would’ve posted this earlier 😅 hope you like it!

one / three / masterlist / wattpad

A month passed and any reminder of my conflict with Leroy and Tiffany had faded into oblivion. Jackie was correct in assuming they'd drop their beef with me, and once my hand was healed and Jackie's face no longer looked like an overly inflated balloon, there was nothing left to remind me of the incidents that occurred.

The only thing to come out of the whole experience was being a little more than acquaintances with Jackie. I couldn't go as far as saying we were friends, but she definitely felt the need to greet me more whenever she saw me in class, and I didn't mind returning the favour.

The real shift in our relationship began when Van, Jackie, Shauna and I were grouped up for a History class project. It was a presentation we needed to pull together, so we'd all made plans to meet up to discuss everything over coffee, which is how I found myself driving there with Van in my new car.

"You know you're gonna have to take me everywhere now," Van pointed out from the passenger seat with a grin. "I'm gonna be your passenger princess."

I laughed. "Hey, I don't mind. It's a bit of a rust bucket, but it beats skateboarding everywhere." I paused, then added, "Who am I kidding? I'm gonna miss skateboarding everywhere."

"We can still hit up the skate park every now and then," she promised. "But driving is a lot easier, you can't lie."

I smiled in agreement. After using some of my savings and convincing my parents it was time to get a car, they bought me an old, second-hand banger from one of my dad's friends who owned a garage. It wasn't the best looking car, but after a wash and a little bit of sprucing up with some car accessories, it looked decent enough to serve its purpose.

Conveniently, I pulled up at the coffee shop at the same time as Shauna, who was parking a few spots down. When Van and I jumped out the car with our bags, Jackie and Shauna were already approaching us.

"Hey," Shauna greeted us both with a smile, before nodding with approval at my car. "Love the new ride, Y/L/N."

"Thanks," I said with proud smile.

"You got to the part where you have to fill the tyres with air?" she asked with amusement. "It's so awkward when everyone watches you do it."

I snorted with amusement. "I'll be lucky if I get that far. This thing is trying its best right now."

She chuckled and glanced over it once more. "It's still pretty nice. Gets you from A to B, right? Driving saves so much time, trust me."

"Very true," I agreed, before I noticed Jackie checking it out curiously, having greeted Van already. I quirked a brow as I jokingly asked, "What? Not up to the princess' standards?"

Van and Shauna exchanged amused glances whilst Jackie shot me a playful glare.

"That's not what I was thinking," she said matter-of-factly.

I stopped by her side to look at it like she was, giving her a sideways glance. "I was kidding. Kind of."

She gave me a knowing look. "It's nice."

I tried not to laugh as I said, "Thank you."

She rolled her eyes playfully before the four of us headed inside to find a table. After claiming a booth in the corner, we pulled out our supplies and textbooks to get started.

"I'll go order our drinks," I offered, before we got stuck in. "Everybody know what they want?"

After they shared their orders with me, I slid out the booth to get in the queue, but Jackie slid out alongside me.

"You might need more hands to carry it," she said, when I quirked a brow.

I shrugged and the two of us got in line to order. It didn't take long to reach the front, and after giving the barista our order and paying, Jackie decided she wanted a muffin that was on display.

"Shoot, I'm so sorry to be annoying," she said with her signature smile, albeit a little apologetic, as she pointed to the muffin. "Please can we get that too?"

The guy, probably no older than we were, nodded eagerly and got the muffin for her, placing it on the tray. "Of course. It's on the house."

I resisted the urge to smile as I raised an eyebrow, watching Jackie laugh flirtatiously.

"No! Really?" she asked with bright eyes. "You're too sweet!"

The guy shrugged casually, his cheeks turning pink as she gave him all her attention in this moment. Before we knew it, our drinks were added to the tray and I picked it up to leave.

"Thanks again," she said with a tilt of her head and a matching smile.

He watched her leave distractedly, and only when we were walking away did I let out a quiet chuckle at what I'd just witnessed.

"What?" she asked, glancing at me, as if she didn't know what she'd done.

I gave her a look of disbelief. "Seriously?" Her confused expression forced me to continue. "You just bat your eyes and get what you want?"

She looked up thoughtfully before nodding. "Pretty much."

Breathing out through my nose, I shook my head with amazement. It made sense that even strangers fell victim to the Jackie Taylor effect.

"Can you get some napkins?" she asked, flashing me the same smile she gave the barista, but I would be damned if she thought she could fool me.

"Not a chance," I said with a stifled laugh, equally amused by her frown as I was her audacity.

I returned to the booth as she went to grab some napkins for us, and the four of us got stuck in immediately. As well as getting the base of our presentation researched, we also had a nice bonding session. To be fair, Van already knew Jackie and Shauna well, but I enjoyed getting to know them too.

I especially learnt that Jackie was pretty used to getting what she wanted whenever she wanted, and having people fall head over heels for her. This was something that came to light the more time we spent together working on this project. I guess you could say that the project is what intertwined our lives again once more.

—

After yet another studying session with Jackie, Shauna and Van in the library last night, I realised I grabbed Jackie's notebook by accident and planned to return it to her the next morning at school. I found her by her locker, but she was in a conversation with Jeff and I debated whether or not to interrupt.

They weren't together, the two of them surprisingly staying broken up unlike the many other times they'd somehow got back together, so it was odd to see them talking. But it wasn't any of my business, even if I was a little curious to whether they were back together – especially after everything that happened – so I just sucked it up and politely interrupted.

When I stopped by their side awkwardly, their conversation fell quiet and Jeff glanced at me, no doubt thinking of the whole Leroy incident. Without another word, he walked away, leaving Jackie and I alone.

"Sorry," I said to her uncomfortably, before holding out her notebook. "I just wanted to give you this."

"Oh, thanks," she said, blinking, before accepting the notebook. "I was looking for this all morning."

"Yeah, I must've grabbed it by accident," I said with a small smile. "My bad."

She nodded, and I was about to leave, but then she met my eyes and said, "That wasn't–"

She'd stopped, so I prodded, "Wasn't...?"

Uneasily, she explained, "He's been trying to get back together with me. Jeff."

I chewed on my lip, unsure what to respond, because she didn't owe me any kind of explanation. But a small part of me was nosy enough to want it.

"I'm not stupid, obviously," she continued.

"Obviously," I repeated in agreement, otherwise stumped for words.

"But yeah," she finished, a small, awkward smile on her lips. "That's it."

I mirrored her smile, nodding. "Awesome... er, thanks for the update."

She cleared her throat, nodding too, and then an uncomfortable silence filled the air. I was relieved, though I would never admit it, to know that she wasn't considering going back to him. It only reaffirmed all she'd said about listening to me, and it showed that she respected whatever friendship we seemed to share.

"I'll see you in class," I said, straightening up.

She relaxed her shoulders. "Yeah. See you."

—

Shortly after finishing our group assignment together, Jackie felt the need to work with me more often, for whatever reason. She had a lot of friends, so I couldn't see why she needed me in the mix also, but I guess I wasn't totally against it.

I was walking into Chemistry class when I spotted the blonde sat where my usual lab partner, Dennis, sat. Getting a sense of deja vu, I watched her questioningly as I set my stuff down in my seat.

"Is there a particular reason you're sat there?" I asked, when she flashed me a nonchalant smile.

Placing her chin in the palm of her hand, she stared at me through her lashes. "I feel like you don't know me well enough. So, I switched partners."

I resisted the urge to laugh, oddly intrigued by whatever game she was playing. "I mean, we've only been in the same classes all our life, but–"

"It's not the same," she insisted with a wave of her hand, making me laugh.

Not caring enough to be opposed to her trading seats with Dennis, I took a seat beside her and began to get my books out. As I did, our teacher, Mr Turner, approached our table with a stern expression.

"Miss Taylor," he addressed her. "Can I ask why you're not sitting in your assigned seat?"

I watched on with amusement, wondering how she'd get herself out of this one. But if she was sweating in the slightest, it didn't show.

Shooting Mr Turner her signature smile, she said, "I'm sorry, Mr Turner. I was just about to come and ask you permission. I thought moving beside Y/N here would help improve my grade and be less of a distraction than my old partner."

I quirked a brow, glancing between him and her, and watched as his expression softened slightly. Holy shit. The Jackie Taylor effect worked on teachers too?

"Very well," he conceded. "I suppose that's alright, if it's for the betterment of your learning. Just don't let me catch you chatting through my teaching, alright?"

She nodded innocently. "Of course. I'd never disrespect you like that."

My mouth opened slightly with disbelief, her pure arse kissing astounding me. Mr Turner nodded appreciatively before returning to the front of the classroom, and Jackie turned to me with a cheeky smile.

"I'm impressed," I admitted. "Everybody really loves you, huh?"

As she grabbed her book, she shrugged, though gave me a sideways glance as if she was pouting. "Almost everyone."

I rolled my eyes playfully. "C'mon, Jackie. You have the whole school– heck, probably the whole world at your fingertips. Why are you so adamant on making me like you?"

She raised her brows impatiently. "Because I'm likeable!"

The pink tinge on her cheeks, darkening her already-existent blusher, paired with her impatience only served to make me grin. If I'd known treating Jackie Taylor like this would get her so flustered, I would have done it more often. It was definitely entertaining, and she was going through more effort than she needed to, which only made me laugh more.

As amusing as it was though, I knew she'd give up soon. I simply refused to let myself slip under the Jackie Taylor spell that she had over everyone – doing whatever she wanted, treating her like she was god's gift, there at her beck and call... Unlike every other poor soul who genuinely believed they had a chance with her, no doubt because she had a power to make you feel that way, I wasn't naive. Jackie Taylor was out of my league, as a friend or anything more.

I wasn't blind. Her powers of seduction were rooted in her beauty and ability to turn heads wherever she went. It was normal to have a tiny crush on her, I was sure of it, but I'd never let it be more than that.

Of course, there were small micro-moments where I'd let myself indulge for once, to be a little selfish and delirious. Like now, as she sat beside me in class, nodding along to what Mr Turner was explaining. From the corner of my eye, it was easy to make out the perfect curve of her jaw, the glossiness of her lips, the flutter of her eyelashes. And it would have been even easier to give into it all, especially when she asked me to grab her a lab coat from the back of the classroom, a soft smile on her lips and a single bat of her eyelashes.

But all it took was one relinquishment of power and I'd be just another fool who let Jackie Taylor create delusion in their heads. And I refused.

"I don't know what the arrangement between you and your last partner was, but here, you do things yourself," I said with a suppressed smile, appreciating the way her face dropped.

She tensed her jaw slightly, before trailing along behind me to grab a lab coat. After suiting up, we returned to our desk and I got out the lab equipment whilst she read over the worksheet we'd been given.

"Okay, first step is to turn on the bunsen burner," she read aloud, glancing at me expectantly.

"Great." I pushed over the bunsen burner to her. "Go on."

Indifferently, she straightened up and began to connect the hose to the bunsen burner, shooting me a knowing look as she connected the whole thing to the gas tap.

"I know how to do things myself, y'know," she said disapprovingly.

I chuckled. "I know, it's just fun watching you actually do it."

She huffed dramatically before twisting the gas tap without warning, making me jump back quickly as the flame lit up. Her eyes widened as she twisted it off, before falling to me with both concern and amusement.

"Shit, are you okay?" she asked, hand covering her mouth, but a smile was threatening to break out.

I released a breath, touching my shirt which almost set on fire, and shot her a look. "I am, yeah. No thanks to you!"

She began to laugh quietly. "I'm sorry. See? If you'd just done it for us, that wouldn't have happened."

"Oh, if I'd just done it for us?" I asked sarcastically, mimicking her voice.

"Yeah, you should've just listened–" she started, eyes darting between mine with entertainment.

"I should've just listened," I agreed, still as sarky as ever.

"Yes," she agreed between laughter.

I sighed, giving into my smile as she watched me with dismay. This was going to be a long lesson.

—

As much as I hated to admit it, I was enjoying having Jackie as my lab partner, looking forward to the hour lesson where she was as careless as ever when it came to our experiments, but to the satisfaction and humour of me. Of course, she could never know that all of her efforts to sway me were working, so I played it cool.

I definitely didn't expect to see her beyond that, so I was especially surprised when I showed up to the local community centre after school with the intention of improving my college application and saw her waiting outside with a few other students. I did a double take, her face being the last I expected to see.

"Hey," she said when she recognised me, moving to stand beside me with her usual blinding smile.

"Are you stalking me, Taylor?" I asked jokingly.

"You wish," she retorted with a playful eye roll. "I'm here because it looks good for my college application."

"Ah, of course."

She lifted a brow. "You?"

"Same," I admitted sheepishly, making her laugh.

Once the other students turned up, there were thirteen of us in total and the manager of the community centre met us outside to brief us. We were to work on the community garden over the coming weeks, helping to clean it up and plant some fresh produce and flowers to brighten up the place. Only once it was complete would we get a certificate of recognition for our efforts.

We got stuck in straight away, everyone assigned to different areas. Jackie and I were working on planting the flower beds, so the first thing to do was bring over the soil to the designated area. I heaved the giant bag of soil over my shoulder and brought it over, dropping it to the ground with a sigh and wiping the sweat from my head.

Giggling made me look up, and I watched as Jackie got some freshman to grab her bag, twirling her hair and fluttering her eyelashes as he dropped the bag beside mine.

"You're too sweet, Johnny," she said with a classic tilt of her head, touching his arm. "Thanks again."

He shrugged casually, clearly affected by her attention. "Anytime. You need a hand with anything else, just let me know."

She nodded in agreement and watched as he walked away before her eyes found mine.

"What?" she said like it was obvious. "It would've gotten my nails dirty."

I glanced down at the soil staining my shirt, before giving her a knowing look. "Wait until you start to plant the seeds."

Kneeling down, I used the spade provided to dig out the old dead plants from the flower beds. She kneeled down beside me, careful not to dirty her skirt as she did, and watched my hands work.

"I'm curious," I said, glancing at her. "Were you planning to help at all?"

She straightened up with a sense of pride. "Of course." And then reluctantly, she used her hands to help me remove the old plants, but not without pulling a face.

I tried not to laugh as I watched, finding a sense of satisfaction as her fingernails did indeed get stained with soil. Working alongside her, I used the spade to dig out the next plant, but it skidded across the soil, the plant too firm, and I ended up flicking a handful of soil at Jackie.

"Oh, shit," I said with a stifled smile, watching as she looked down at her clothes. "Sorry."

She breathed out slowly and dusted the soil off, but it left dark tracks in its midst. "It's fine."

"Good thing you wore your old clothes, right?" I asked, biting my lip to contain my smile.

She hummed in agreement, jaw tensing slightly, and a grin fell upon my lips. Everything she wore looked too nice to be considered old. Poor Jackie was probably not expecting to lift a finger.

For whatever reason, whether it was to prove me wrong or to prove her own point, she actually helped me with our tasks, no longer using freshmen to get everything done. It was fun, working with her, and it only gave me more time to appreciate spending with her.

Once we'd done our assigned two hours, it was finally time to leave for the day, and Jackie and I walked out together. Parked a few cars down from mine was Shauna's, and I gave Jackie a look of disbelief.

"You made Shauna pick you up?"

"Duh," she said with a shrug.

I breathed out slowly, looking up and shaking my head. "Why do I still get surprised?"

"What? That people love me?" she asked with a teasing voice.

"Yes."

She rolled her eyes, lips pressing into a smile. "I'm sure you'll figure it out. Until then, see you tomorrow."

I waved goodbye to her as she kept walking, trying to understand the hold she had on everyone. Her and her silly smiles and silly hazel eyes and silly raspy voice.

Annoyingly enough, I was starting to see it.

—

I found myself in Chemistry class later that week, doodling on my notebook as I waited for class to properly start. Jackie arrived as usual, greeting me, and when I looked up, I took a moment to find my words.

"You look different," I said without thinking, trying to figure it out.

"I'm pretty sure I don't," she said with a chuckle, sitting beside me like always.

But no, there was something different about her today, something that had me admiring her a little more closely than usual. And as I was subtly studying the freckles on her face, the slope of her nose, the golden flecks in her eyes, it hit me.

"Your hair," I said with realisation, making her look up. "It's up. You never have it up."

She lifted a brow with amusement. "I guess, maybe not often, but..."

She'd worn her hair up before, obviously, but her signature look was to leave it out, freshly curled. So, seeing her with it up just happened to draw my attention more, and also show off her pretty face a bit more, which I guess is why I noticed.

Satisfied that I'd figured it out, I nodded. "Yeah, that's it. It looks pretty like that."

Her lips curved into a soft smile, eyes darting away from mine in an uncharacteristic manner. "Er, thanks."

I didn't think much more of it as I returned to my doodling, but then from that day onwards, I noticed she began to wear her hair up more often. And every single time, I found myself admiring her secretly, letting myself indulge just that little bit more.

—

Promising to pick up Van from soccer practice today, I headed to the field to wait in the bleachers for her, having killed time studying all I could before my brain would fry itself. I was a little early, so the Yellowjackets were still practicing.

I took that as my opportunity to get comfortable at the bottom of the bleachers, feet leaning on the ones in front of me as I pulled my headphones on and focused on my book. I was deep into it when something hit me and I jumped, startled.

Yanking my headphones off, I looked down to see a bottle cap, and then looked up to see a laughing Jackie stood by the bench on the field, bottle of water in hand.

"Thanks," I said sarcastically, before tossing the cap back at her, which she swiftly dodged.

"What are you doing here?" she asked with a grin.

Admittedly, she looked really cute right now, dressed in the school gym kit, a little sweaty and her face flushed pink from all the running she'd done. But I would never give her that satisfaction, so sarcasm was my next best defence.

"Oh, I just had to come and see Jackie Taylor in all of her team captain glory."

She raised her brows, pausing. "Really?"

"No. I'm here to pick Van up."

She scoffed gently, rolling her eyes.

"As much as your many admirers would love to watch you practice, I'm not one of them," I teased.

"Hilarious," she said with narrowed eyes, making me grin. Dismissing my mockery, she asked, "Are you coming to the pep rally tomorrow? First game of the season is this week."

I leaned back, thinking about it. "Eh, why not?"

Hand on her hip, she shot me a disapproving smile. "Don't sound too enthusiastic or anything."

I crossed my legs comfortably as I met her challenging stare. "I'm not big on the whole soccer thing. I'm just going to support Van. That's what a good friend would do."

She began to smile, a glint of amusement in her gaze. "A good friend, huh? Pat yourself on the back much?"

"Someone has to."

She looked away with disbelief, hiding a smile. "Wow, I see."

I quirked a brow, smile forming on my lips. "See how annoying that is? That's what it's like having a conversation with you."

She pursed her lips as she looked over me with feigned irritation. "Touché, Y/N."

I flashed her a satisfied smile as she finished the last of her water before flipping me off then jogging back to the others. I chuckled to myself as I watched her leave, admittedly checking her out as I did. Stupid Jackie and her stupid cute face.

—

We were well into October when it happened. I couldn't have seen it coming in the slightest.

Lottie, one of Van's teammates, was hosting the ultimate Halloween party at her mansion of her house, able to get away with it because her parents were away. Everybody was attending, and if Van herself didn't invite me, at least ten other people had because of how awesome it was supposed to be. Naturally, I said yes, loving a party more than anyone else but especially a costume party.

So, I showed up with Van and Taissa, the latter opting for a Catwoman costume that she very much pulled off, and Van and I dressing up as two of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles – her as Michelangelo and myself as Leonardo. They were iconic outfits, what could I say?

Of course, I may have felt a little stupid when we met up with the rest of Van's team, including Jackie who looked drool-worthy in her Supergirl costume.

"Wow, you two look...," she began when she saw Van and I, eyes flickering between our matching costumes. "It's very you."

Van swung her nunchucks in agreement. "I thought so too. Love the sexy Supergirl getup."

Jackie stifled a smile as she nodded in acknowledgement, before her eyes fell to me. "Which one are you? Raphael?"

I pointed to the blue bandana over my eyes. "Leonardo, obviously."

A grin broke out on her lips as she touched the bandana, pulling it over my eyes a bit better and also sending goosebumps all over my skin at her touch. "Obviously."

I swallowed thickly, trying not to let my eyes drift below her head, because her costume was very tight and she looked very good right now.

"Nat's pouring everyone drinks in the kitchen," she said, looking between the three of us. "You coming?"

"Hell yeah," Van spoke for us all, raising her nunchucks in the air, before glancing back at Taissa and I. "Leonardo and Catwoman, on my six!"

I cracked a smile as I readied my sword and followed after my idiot best friend.

It was admittedly an eventful first few hours, with Van and I stressing Taissa out enough times that she was forced to take our pretend weapons off us for the rest of the party. Apparently assuming the personas of our costumes wasn't going down well with her, which, in hindsight, was fair when I remembered how drunk we got.

At one point, I found myself rambling to some random guy about the lore of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, aware that he was passed out on the couch beside me but still talking anyway, when Jackie strolled over to me, just as drunk as I was.

"There you are," she said with a grin. "Come dance with me."

"Jackie, I'm in the middle of a conversation," I said, motioning to my passed out friend.

"He's asleep, idiot," she pointed out, before outstretching her hand and wiggling it. "Come on."

I batted her hand away. "I don't dance."

She lost her smile as her patience ran quicker now that her inhibitions were lowered. "Y/N."

Finding it amusing, I motioned around us. "There's a billion people here. One of them would kill to dance with you. Why not ask them?"

"I'm asking you," she said through gritted teeth.

Not really aware of her anger, I pushed myself off the couch with a stretch. "I'm hungry."

She glared at me as I walked away, pushing through the party-goers and intending to find the kitchen, but Lottie's house was huge and I'd already forgotten the layout. I opened several wrong doors, and then on the last one – some sort of games room – I felt someone shove me from behind, forcing me in.

"Hey–!"

"Why does nothing work with you?!" Jackie interrupted my complaining, shutting the door behind her and fixing me with a frustrated stare.

I blinked, confused.

She scoffed, uncrossing her arms and rolling her eyes. "I've been trying to get your attention for months, you idiot! I even started–" she faltered, embarrassed, "wearing my hair up because of one stupid compliment you gave me."

My brain was working slower than usual, so her words were catching up to me little by little. "I noticed that."

Still not happy, she narrowed her eyes at me. "Why do I even try?"

Realising this was about the Jackie Taylor effect, as I'd rightly dubbed it now, I said, "Everybody loves you. Why is it so important if I don't?"

Her eyes flickered between mine, and I was certain she was going to slap me or berate me or shout at me. But then her expression softened and she admitted, "Because I want you to."

I didn't get chance to register her words before she stepped forward, pressing her lips to mine. Her fingers curled around the back of my neck and I found myself melting under her touch, falling right into her. Her lips tasted like alcohol, tobacco and strawberry lipgloss, and I was suddenly eager to taste her concoction even more, all my senses heightened as I pulled her close.

She moved her lips against mine eagerly, fingers sending shivers down my spine as they tickled my skin, and I pushed my tongue between her lips in retaliation, not even thinking about anything other than her. We broke apart for air, barely seconds passing before our lips reconnected, and I was infatuated with every part of the blonde that had been on my mind these past few months.

Time was a drunken haze – we could have been there for seconds or hours for all I knew – and we were unfortunately interrupted by the sound of the door suddenly opening. Our sloppy movements meant we pulled apart a second too late, and we turned to see Van standing there in her Michelangelo costume. God, did I look that stupid right now?

"You're both trashed," she said, words slurred, before she looked to me. "C'mon. Catwoman is taking us home." Then she looked to Jackie, adding, "Shauna's looking for you."

I glanced at Jackie, heart still racing and her taste still on my lips. The state I was in made everything feel like it was so distant, as if it was happening to someone else, so I still hadn't truly acknowledged what had just happened between us. Jackie was already looking at me, eyes half lidded and cheeks flushed. I almost wanted to kiss her again, but Van impatiently calling my name snapped me out of it.

"Coming," I told her, before tearing my eyes from Jackie and following after Van.

#jackie taylor x you #jackie taylor imagine #jackie taylor x reader #jackie taylor #ella purnell #yellowjackets imagine #yellowjackets

120 notes · View notes

shadowlali · 4 months

Note

Lali🖤

That fic you did for the anon with Ranch Owner Ale x Pastors Daughter needs a pt2 P L E A S E, it was so juicy!!

Consider giving them a Ale Vargas Jr in the oven and then the parents have to find out 👀 [can you tell i enjoy the drama??]

Honestly even if you don't make a Pt2, I just wanted to say that every fic you put out is so top tier. Your style and creativity is one of my favorites here. Despite your school schedule which I'm sure is harcore since Organic Chemistry is no joke, you're always posting banger - book quality fics for us for *𝐅 𝐑 𝐄 𝐄*.

Thank you for your existence and efforts 🖤 You are so appreciated.

pastor's daughter - part 2

COD AU - Rancher!Alejandro Vargas x pastor's daughter!reader

[18+] wc: ~4.1 k masterlist part 1

warnings: NSFW, some proofreading, no use of Y/N nor too many details on reader’s appearance, angry dad/somewhat difficult family dynamics, talks about raising a child, allusions to a HEA, pet names (mami, nena, traviesa), fingering, unprotected sex a/n: my amazing, lovely mutual 💖! you sent this request in so long ago and i have finally finished it. thank you for your patience and sweet words. i hope you enjoy 🖤 to the anon who sent in another ale x reader pregnancy request, don't worry i am working on it! 🤍

No matter how long you stare at the white stick, the two little lines stay the same. You flip it over in your hand, thinking that maybe it's a joke, maybe a little message will appear that says “just kidding!” But it doesn’t, and the little pink lines stay the same. You throw it on the counter, landing it right on top of the three other tests you took which have the same conclusion: you’re pregnant.

Your head spins from the idea, or more so the fact that you are indeed pregnant, carrying a child, and you’re possibly going to be a mother. Your hands grip the counter as the panic sets in, the room suddenly spinning. It’s not like you were careful, you just really didn’t think it would happen from just one time.

You think about telling your mom, but you’re terrified at her reaction. You sure as hell won’t tell your dad, the town’s pastor. You have absolutely no idea what he’ll do especially if he finds out who the father of your baby is. The pastor’s daughter knocked up by the wealthy ranch owner is sure to cause a scandal.

There is only one person who you have to tell, and it's Alejandro. Your phone burns a hole in your pocket. He set up his contact information weeks ago when you two… unexpectedly made a baby in his home? You haven’t seen him since, too busy with church events to find the time to escape your parents’ grasp.

“Honey?” your mom calls from outside the bathroom door, ”are you okay?”

“Ye–yeah, I’m almost out.”

You hear her footsteps continue to the living room and you decide to text Alejandro.

You: Hi, are you busy? Can I see you?

Sent at 9:28 A.M.

Alejandro Vargas: No, I’m not busy. Si hermosa, do you want me to pick you up? Where are you? [Yes, beautiful]

Sent at 9:29 A.M.

You: I’ll meet you at the café parking lot. In the back.

Sent at 9:30 A.M.

Alejandro: I’ll be there soon.

Sent at 9:30 A.M.

You quickly hide the pregnancy tests, placing one in your pocket before washing your hands. With your purse in hand, you quickly yell out I'm meeting a friend for bible study, to your mom before she asks anymore questions. The walk to the cafe only takes 10 minutes and by the time you get there, Alejandro’s truck is in the back lot.

As you approach, he gets out of the driver’s side and walks to the passenger’s, opening the door for you. Looking around, you find the coast clear and rush to hug him. His arms wrap around you, strong and warm, his fresh cologne filling your senses.

“¿Qué pasa, nena?” [What’s wrong, my girl?]

You sniffle, tears filling your waterline. “We need to talk, Ale. Somewhere private.”

He nods, helping you into his truck then getting in through the driver’s side. The ride to his ranch is quiet, his thumb caressing the back of your hand. Alejandro turns to look at you periodically, but your forehead is kept pressed on the cool glass of the passenger window.

“Are you alone?” you ask as his ranch comes into view.

“There’s no one else here, nena. Don’t worry.”

He helps you off the truck and leads the way into the house. You see the same couch where you were bent over a few weeks ago. It causes a flutter in your lower tummy, but you push it down, the topic of conversation is too important to be turned on right now. He sits on the opposite couch, patting the space next to him.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong? Your dad isn’t here with a rifle pointed at my head,” he laughs to lighten the mood, ”so I assume he hasn’t found out–”

“I’m pregnant. I took four home tests and they all came out positive,” you interrupt him in a jumble of words, giving him the test.

His eyes widen, glancing down at the pregnancy test before taking it in his hand. Alejandro focuses on the two little lines, taking a deep breath and placing it on the coffee table.

“Okay–that’s okay, what are we–,” he stutters, dragging a hand over his beard, ”what do you need me to do? What do you need, do you want to tell your parents together? Do you want me to take you to a gynecologist appointment in the next town? Are we–are you keeping the baby? Just tell me what and I’ll do whatever you need.”

Alejandro’s words come out fast, the expression on his face seemingly only a little scared. You shake your head, tears falling down your cheeks.

“I don’t know what I want yet,” you whisper, ”right now, just a hug. Please.”

“Of course, hermosa. Come here,” he says while pulling you in closer.

He strokes your back while your tears silently fall. While you sit there, wrapped in Alejandro’s arms, with his cologne in your nose, you wonder what it would be like to be a mom.

Of course you feel like you aren’t ready… but what if you are? Maybe it would be wonderful to have a tiny human that you can love and cherish. You’ve always thought that this would happen much later in life, but the opportunity is here now. And Alejandro seems ready to support whatever decision you make.

“What if–,” you start, ”what if we keep the baby?”

He cups your face, wiping away your tears with his thumb. “Then we’ll raise a baby, together.”

“Are you sure? You won’t leave me–”

“No,” he says firmly, ”it took two of us to make this baby. It’s going to take two of us to raise them.”

The look in his eyes is serious. Absolutely no doubt, resolute in his beliefs.

“Believe me, hermosa,” he whispers, ”you’re not alone in this. I’ll go right now and tell your parents that we’re expecting.”

You place a light kiss on his mouth, sinking your fingers in his thick hair. He returns it, cradling the back of your skull and running his thumb on your cheek.

“I think,” you say as you pull back, ”I should be the one to tell them. It’s going to be a shock to them and it’s best if I do it alone.”

It takes a lot of convincing for Alejandro to take you back home. He’s visibly nervous and does not like the idea of you giving them the news alone. This is my responsibility too, hermosa. A real man would show up.

But, you have no idea how they'll react with him there. So after much persuasion, Alejandro drops you off at home, reminding you to call him the moment the conversation finishes.

After a few more okay, one more kiss, you hop down his truck, noticing your father’s car in the driveway. He’s definitely here, you think. Never in your life has walking up to the front porch seemed so scary. Your legs feel like lead, only becoming heavier with each step towards the front porch. You let the door close behind you softly, sealing out the rest of the world.

His bible is placed on the entry table along with the notebook he uses to write the weekly sermons. With cold fingers, you drag them down the front covers of both, praying for a little strength. Adult actions, adult consequences, you remind yourself. Before the burst of confidence leaves, you walk into the living room.

“Hi,” you say in a tiny voice, making your presence known in what suddenly feels like a tiny room.

Your dad looks up from one of his theology books, a warm smile on his face. He takes one look at your anxious form and immediately goes into protective dad mode.

“What happened?” he demands.

“How was it with your friend?” your mother asks, flipping through a fashion magazine, still oblivious to the situation.

“I need to talk to the both of you.”

Your mother finally looks up, startled at your serious tone. The look in your father’s eyes doesn’t waiver, most likely already suspecting something is wrong with his normally bubbly daughter.

“I’m–I’m pregnant,” you stutter out.

Your mom drops her teacup onto the couch, dousing a pretty throw pillow and the seat cushion in liquid. They stay frozen for a few seconds until your dad snaps his book, dragging a hand down his face. Your mom reacts too, shakily grabbing her teacup and placing it on the coffee table.

“Who?” your father asks, his voice just above a growl.

“Who what–”

“Who is the father?” he demands more firmly.

“Oh,” you whisper, finally understanding his question. “It’s um… Alejandro.”

“When–” he starts.

“Does he know?” your mom speaks up, her voice just above a whisper.

You turn to look at her and nod, grateful that she’s interrupting what you assume to be an onslaught of intrusive questions from your dad. “He’s the first person I told.”

“You should’ve told us first–”

“And what did he say?” your mom once again interrupts your dad.

“He said he’ll support me no matter the decision I make–”

Your father makes a disgruntled sound, immediately standing up and walking towards the front door.

“Where are you going?”

He ignores your question but you manage to block his path, assuming he’s walking to pick up his car keys. “Dad, please,” you whisper, grabbing his hand.

“Where–where were your morals? Did my words mean nothing to you? Did the education we provided you at the church mean nothing to you?” he barks out, pushing your hand away.

“No, no, they–they did, dad! Of course they did–”

“I thought I could trust him, but look at what he did to our daughter!” he continues, turning to your mother.

“Mi amor,” she tries to reason, ”let’s calm down and talk about it. Alejandro is a good person, it sounds like he’s going to step up and take care of her. He should come here and talk to us–”

“He will not step foot in this house nor will she,” he points an accusatory finger at you, ”ever speak to him again.”

Tears blur your vision at his words. Not wanting to hear his voice anymore, you turn and walk quickly to your room, ignoring his calls to come back. Your hands shake while pressing on Alejandro’s name in your phone. It only rings once and he’s answering the call, his gruff voice immediately calming you.

“¿Qué pasó, hermosa?” he coos. [What happened, beautiful?]

“I told them and it didn’t–I mean it’s–I know they were going to be shocked but this is too much–” you hiccup between quiet sobs.

“Shhh, pack up your things. I’m down the road.”

“Wha–what?”

“I’m down the road,” he repeats, ”pack up your things and stay on the line until you walk out the door.”

It takes a moment for you to grasp what he’s saying. You’ve lived in this house your entire life, only leaving when going on vacation or visiting family, always wanting, but never actually moving out. A sudden pain strikes your chest because with this baby, if you pack up your stuff and leave, you’ll most likely never return.

You hear Alejandro through the phone, asking if you heard him and if everything is okay. Your parents voices outside the door only become louder, and in that moment you make the decision. The most important items, such as personal documents and a few changes of clothes, are dumped in a small suitcase.

I’m outside, nena, Alejandro says through the receiver. You take one last look at the books on the shelf, the desk your dad built cluttered with little trinkets, the mountain of pillows on the bed and turn, opening the door to walk to the entryway.

Your dad beats you to it, having already noticed Alejandro’s truck in the driveway. He opens the front door with enough force that it bounces against the wall, making a loud noise. Alejandro is already walking towards the front door, looking determined as he faces your father.

“I should kill you for what you did to her! She is not leaving this house.”

“We can go inside and talk about this,” Alejandro tries to reason,” I respect and care a lot for your daughter and I will do everything possible to make her happy–”

“She is not going anywhere.”

“You don’t get to make that decision for her,” Alejandro calmly states, stretching his hand out for you to walk to him.

“Go,” your mother whispers behind you, pushing you towards Alejandro.

You walk around them both, ignoring your father completely. He tries to grab your arm but Alejandro blocks his hand, waiting until you’re in the car to keep walking. Alejandro places the suitcase in the back seat as your mother holds onto your father’s arm, preventing him from moving off the front porch.

The drive to Alejandro’s ranch is silent, your body too exhausted to talk or even cry. Alejandro tries to ask how the conversation went down and what happened, but you shake your head, words unable to form in your mouth. Once at the ranch, he leads you inside and up to his room, grabbing a washcloth to wipe the mess of tears from earlier.

“Get in bed, yeah? I’ll bring your suitcase in.”

By the time you strip out of your clothes, Alejandro has brought in your things and has set out a pair of pajamas. In the back of your mind, you think about how efficiently Alejandro moves. He’s a man of action, doing things to make you the most comfortable after such a stressful situation. His hand rubs soothing circles on your back while you curl up next to him, eventually falling into a dreamless sleep.

- - -

“¿No tienes frío?” Alejandro asks, placing a blanket over you without waiting for a response. [You’re not cold?]

You lift the blanket to make room for him and scoot closer to his warm body. The sun is slowly setting, the sky a flurry of different purples. The two of you lay on his patio daybed, listening to the chirp of crickets and the light rustle of wind.

Alejandro kisses the side of your head, leaving his lips there as he breathes in. “He’ll come around, hermosa. He’s just surprised.”

You nod, heart heavy. “Yeah, I hope so.”

“Either way, I won’t let him come speak to you unless it’s for an apology.”

You snuggle deeper into Alejandro’s side, the seed of doubt planted by your father only further blooming. “Do you–do you think this is a good idea? Are we ready to be parents?”

He stays quiet, breathing in your skin. “I don’t think anyone is really prepared to be parents,” Alejandro responds, placing a hand on your tummy. “But, we’re both prepared to give this child all the love and support they need. And even more than that.”

You tilt your head back, locking eyes with Alejandro. He was so quick to offer everything to you: support, affection, a place to live, a place to raise your child. It’s in his nature, you very quickly realize, to give. He’s been single for so long, probably used to freedom and his own space. But there’s no annoyance in his gaze or actions, just a man ready to take responsibility and provide for the mother of his unborn child.

Alejandro’s eyes flit down to your lips and up, over the soft planes of your face. Your lips tingle from how he kissed you before, intense and heavy, the soft scratch of his beard forever imprinted in your skin’s memory. You slide a hand on his arm, bringing it up to his shoulder and down the hard expanse of his chest, pressing your lips lightly to his.

His hand cups your face before he moves his fingers to gently wrap around your neck. He licks at you, running the tip of his tongue over your bottom lip, teasing, before pushing it into the warmth of your mouth.

You circle his wrist with both hands, feeling him tighten his hold only slightly, keeping you still. He trails his lips over your cheeks and eyelids, giving you only a moment to catch your breath before he’s nipping the sensitive skin on your neck. A whimper claws its way out of your throat, cunt pulsing and feeling empty, empty, empty.

“Mi chula,” he murmurs on your skin, letting go of your neck to drag a hand over your achy breasts, “lay back.” [My beautiful]

He pushes off the blanket, maneuvering your body to lay sideways on the daybed while he climbs over you. Alejandro drags your shirt up, dragging his lips over your belly before placing a soft kiss. Goosebumps rise from the light wind, but Alejandro is there to warm you up, his teeth finding the tight peaks of your nipples.

“Ale,” you moan, threading your fingers through the mass of inky, black curls on his head.

He squeezes the tender swells of your breasts with calloused fingers, pulling more whimpers from you. Alejandro moves up, attacking your mouth again. His fingers trail down, rubbing your tummy before snaking through your bottoms and easily pushing aside your thin panties. His fingers lightly skim over your swollen clit and continue down to your entrance. You nip at his mouth the moment he sinks a finger inside of you.

“Traviesa,” he hums, dragging his now slick coated finger up to your sensitive button. [Naughty girl]

Your hands tremble as they travel over his broad back and up to his hair, gripping harder the moment he sinks two thick fingers inside of you. Your hips twist and grind on his hand, whimpering the moment your clit makes contact with his palm. The patio is soon filled with the sounds of your moans and the wet strokes of his fingers between your thighs.

“You missed this, didn’t you?” Alejandro groans against your jaw,” so fucking slick from just my fingers.”

Everything turns to mush in your brain, words becoming too difficult to say, your focus solely on Alejandro and the way he moves, the way he breathes, the way he manages to break you into tiny little pieces and put you back together.

The pressure in your core grows and grows and grows, your hips rolling from the pleasure. Alejandro grinds his bulge into the meat of your thigh, the warmth of his body burning you even through the layers of clothes.

“Come on my fingers mami,” he whispers,” let me feel you.”

His words send you over the edge, pussy tightening hard around his thick digits, covering his hand in your wetness while you come. He traps you in a kiss, fucking his tongue into your mouth with the same intensity of his fingers. You shake in his hold, clawing at his arms and neck, any piece of him that you can reach.

Alejandro moves down, giving small licks and soft kisses to your tits, removing his fingers to lightly rub through your folds, calming you through the aftershocks of your orgasm. With his hand free from your pajama bottoms, he brings his fingers up to you, smushing your cheeks to open your mouth.

You suck greedily, tasting yourself. He removes them from your mouth after a few moments, a string of salvia still connected. Alejandro licks it off, moaning at the taste of you. He yanks down your bottoms and panties, then has you sit up to remove your shirt. You’re left bare, the wind cooling your heated skin.

He brings down his pants just underneath his heavy balls, pumping his cock with one hand while he spreads your legs to make room for himself. You slide a hand over the swells of your breasts, and down your tummy, to the wet opening of your cunt.

Alejandro watches the movement of your hand, pumping his cock faster as he sees you slide a finger inside. You moan, feeling how swollen and hot you are.

“Ale,” you whimper,” I’m so empty.”

“You want my cock, traviesa?”

You hum a yes please, and trail a wet finger over his plush head, down the shaft, dragging a ragged moan from him. He moves your hand, placing it on your thigh to help him keep you spread open. He drags the head of his cock from your entrance, through your folds, and up to your bundle of nerves, rubbing until your back arches from the stimulation.

No teasing, you whine, too delirious to wait any longer. Alejandro listens, sinking inside of you, hissing through his teeth, not stopping until the tip reaches the very end of you. You whimper from the stretch, wanting to push him off while also wanting him to fuck you deep. He stays still, head thrown back and hands gripping your thigh, your pussy quivering around his length.

“If you weren’t already pregnant,” he murmurs,” I’d fuck a baby into you right now.”

“Oh my go–”

Alejandro doesn’t wait for you to finish, immediately sliding out to plunge back into you. You’re stuffed full, overwhelmed, wanting more Ale, more, please, more. He leans over you, linking your hand with his and placing it right above your head. You wrap your other hand around his neck, squeezing, begging for him to kiss you.

“Fuck, fuck–” he groans,” do that–do that again.”

You squeeze again, swallowing his moan once his lips find you in a wet kiss, teeth and tongues clashing from the force. He’s slow with each thrust, deliberate and careful in how he fucks you. Every inch, every vein, the entire shape of his cock feels like it's being branded onto the walls of your cunt.

“Ale, faster. Please–”

He tightens his grip on your hand, shaking his head while he trails his lips across your jaw. “No, you take what I give you, mami.”

Alejandro briefly lets go of your hand to tug off his shirt, throwing it to the side right on top of your clothes. His bare skin scorches yours, warms you to your very center. His cologne and the unique scent of him, masculine and fresh, invades your senses.

You pull him closer, craving the scratches from his beard. He groans and whimpers with every bite mark or fingernail indent you leave on his tan skin. Alejandro digs his fingers into your thigh, spreading you impossibly wider for his broad hips.

“Can’t wait until your belly grows with my child,” he moans, moving his hand to caress your tummy.

He leans back, watching where you take him so beautifully. You bring your hand down and link it with his, keeping it pressed to your stomach.

“I can’t wait to have your baby, Ale,” you whine, the need to become a mother only more intense with Alejandro’s words and his actions.

Alejandro speeds up, impaling you with each thrust. You feel it in your spine, another orgasm sneaking up on you. His movements don’t falter, fucking you through it as you throw your head back and grip his hand tight. It lasts forever, well it feels like it lasts forever. You pulse around him, crying from how far he reaches inside of you with his fat cock.

This is only the second time you two are intimate with each other, but as he finishes right after you, filling you with his seed and moaning your name in a broken cadence, you can’t help but think this was always meant to be. He falls on top of you, your sweaty bodies sticking together, his hips moving in short thrusts as he repeats your name in the soft juncture of your neck and shoulder.

Alejandro gives you another kiss that leaves you breathless and panting. He slowly slides out of you, leaning back slightly to watch his spend drip out of your little hole. With thick fingers he pushes it back and rubs the rest on your thighs.

You tangle your fingers in his hair, then caress the beard on his jaw. He leans into your hand and presses a kiss onto the palm, scooting down until he’s able to rest his cheek on your belly. The two of you lay in silence for a bit, regulating your breathing and cooling down.

“We’re going to make this work, yeah?” he asks, his voice breaking through your sleepy brain. "No matter what your dad thinks, or what the town thinks, we're going to be the best parents we can. Right, mami?"

“Right, Ale."

#alejandro vargas x female reader #alejandro vargas smut #cod mw2 x female reader #cod mw2 smut #shadowlali #alejandro vargas

92 notes · View notes

blueberry-beanie · 3 months

Text

The New Cue #357 February 12:

Everything Everything's Jonathan Higgs

"We were weirdos then and we’re weirdos now"

At the beginning of next month, Everything Everything release their seventh record Mountainhead. It’s another brilliant album from one of the UK’s most imaginative and forward-thinking guitar bands, a quartet who never tread water and have been consistently honing, reworking and outdoing what’s gone before for over 15 years, always coming up with a new version of themselves without ever losing what makes them special. The pillars of their music tend to be a mix of danceable synth-y grooves and inventive art-rock, intricate arrangements constructed around big pop hooks and surrealist lyrics, frontman Jonathan Higgs’ vocal delivery emotive and exuberant at the same time.

Higgs is at the centre of it all, a creative dynamo who seems to sum up their idiosyncratic approach and who has the ability to inject emotion into the bizarrest lyrics, lines such as:

“And no reptiles! Just soft boiled eggs in shirts and ties, Waiting for the flashing green man Quivering and wobbling just like all the eggs you know”

That one is taken from Get To Heaven’s epic standout No Reptiles.

Or this, which somehow sounds poignant when Higgs sings it on the electro-pop banger Arch Enemy:

“Fatberg you smile, with your grave wax eyes, will you consume me?”

Or how about this oddball corker, from the euphoric electronica of Raw Data Feel closer Software Greatman?

“Maybe I see Klingons on the starboard bow Maybe, I’m a cat inside a sacred cow

Higgs is at it again with this zinger from their excellent recent single Cold Reactor: “I sent you the image of a yellow face To tell you I’m sad about the emptiness that’s all around me”

That song, released in autumn last year as the first single from Mountainhead, has become Everything Everything’s biggest radio hit yet. It’s spent weeks on the Radio 1 B-list, a very uncommon position for an indie band whose members are all in their late 30s, but its success that sums up the vibrancy and relevance of Everything Everything in 2024. Even better, it probably meant Radio 1 have had to get their heads around this blurb from Higgs on what the new record Mountainhead is about:

“In another world, society has built an immense mountain. To make the mountain bigger, they must make the hole they live in deeper and deeper. All of society is built around the creation of the mountain, and a mountain religion dominates all thought. At the top of the mountain is rumoured to be a huge mirror that reflects endlessly recurring images of the self, and at the bottom of the pit is a giant golden snake that is the primal fear of all believers. A ‘Mountainhead’ is one who believes the mountain must grow no matter the cost, and no matter how terrible it is to dwell in the great pit. The taller the mountain, the deeper the hole.”

Well, you don’t get that with Catfish And The Bottlemen. A few weeks ago Niall – that is me, I am The New Cue’s resident Everything Everything nut in case you hadn’t guessed – spoke to Jonathan over Zoom about the mad concept around the new record, the dynamics of being in a band in 2024, his favourite Liam Gallagher tweet and more. I’ve made this playlist of my favourite Everything Everything songs to listen whilst you read,

Hello Jonathan. I love the new record, it feels different to Raw Data Feel, a bit looser… Yeah, it’s got a lot more freedom and it sounds more like a band playing a lot of the time rather than the rigid, more computerised stuff that we were doing before. We made an effort to make it feel a bit more real and laid back.

Was there much overlap? No, partly because we put everything we made for Raw Data Feel on that record, we didn’t leave anything in the banks. We did the opposite with this, we actually went back and looked at some old demos and brought them back to life because we were looking for some kind of angle that we weren’t going to stumble across, we wanted to go back to our youngest selves and go, ‘What was that thing we were doing?’.

That’s interesting, how far back did you go? I think it’s sessions for A Fever Dream, or it might be Re-Animator, so five or six years ago. Some of the songs on this are from that time, or at least elements of them are or a little demo was made and then thrown away and then we went back and said ‘Let’s explore this and breathe new life into it.’

When you’re seven records in and you start to look back like that, does it feel like different versions of the band? Yeah, definitely. There’s definitely been eras, we’ve never got stuck in one way of doing things. There’s an evolution, for good or for ill, since our first songs to now. I can find myself very quickly thinking in those terms when I hear a song from then, I’m like, ‘Oh yeah, I was trying to do this’ and that stuff changes over time and I’m glad it does because otherwise, you just make the same record again and again and no-one wants that.

Yeah. Without naming any names, for some bands it ends up becoming a process of survival and maintenance. Yeah, thankfully, we’re not in that position. I know what you mean, this idea of being a nostalgia act does not appeal very much, partly because we were at our peak three albums in so we can go back and feast on Get To Heaven-era but I have no interest in going back to Man Alive and trying to recreate that partly because we were weirdos then and we’re weirdos now, it wasn’t the glory days by any means. I’m immensely proud of what we did back then but I’m not going to try and retread it. This is an odd thing to say having just said that I went back to some old demos and put them on our new record, but those demos were rejected for reasons that I find interesting now. And I don’t feel that we need to play the games we were playing them because we’re so good at writing successfully now, I think.

Something like Cold Reactor, I didn’t labour over it and I knew as soon as it was done, it was great and I knew that would that would carry us through. It allows you to feel a bit more relaxed about creativity rather than ‘Must get that radio single or we’re doomed!’, which obviously is the burning hot coal under our butts most of the time because it’s easy to take that stuff for granted, popular songs, but you’ve got to actually write them and they’ve got to actually be popular otherwise no-one cares. Basically, every album usually comes down to one, two or three songs and if none of them have any interest, then people just go, ‘Did an album even come out?’.

Cold Reactor is a good example of the band right now, it seems to sum up all that’s great about Everything Everything and it’s become this mad radio hit. I know! We’ve watched a lot of friends’ bands struggle in this period we’ve had, 15 years now. There is a tendency to rest on your laurels or try and repeat the thing and it’s very difficult to not do that. Sometimes, I’ve done it myself when I’ve sat down and written a song and then I get to the end of it, I go, ‘Well, we did that better with X song on Arc’ and it’s like, ‘I could do this and our fans will really like it because it sounds just like us, it sounds just like Arc’ and then we’re like ‘No, into the bin with you, let’s try and take that same sensation but do something new with it’. That often comes down to the production. I think if you were to strip all of our songs of their production, then you could probably find something I’ve written now very similar to something I’ve written.

There’s a simplicity to a lot of the songs on the new album, nothing is overloaded and it makes the more outlandish stuff more potent. That’s been a big thing to learn over our careers. You’ve got the ability to do outlandish stuff, and you’ve got these players who can play really well but that isn’t enough to just present all of those things at once and expect people to go, ‘Wow!’. Some of them will, and that’s how we made our name, the prog dads, as we used to call them, that came to our shows in the very early days and just stand there and go, ‘yes, this sounds like Yes!’, and that’s fine. But that I felt like it wasn’t really a challenge. It felt like being a music student still, trying to dazzle each other with complexity and emotion slowly rose through all that and they all just fell away. I was like, ‘No, that is the hardest thing to communicate’ and that’s the challenge. That’s what the greats do is, they get your emotions and you can’t manufacture that and you certainly can’t bamboozle that into people, you have to start with a strong, simple, true, or as close to true as you can manage, emotion and then you can start having fun with it. I think that’s the thing that took us the longest to learn.

Everything Everything’s work has grown more emotional with every record. You’ve got these big concepts around them but that disguises the fact they feel a bit more personal and vulnerable each time… I think that’s what happens to humans. Twenty-three-year-olds are a strange breed to look to for sustenance when it comes to art, there’s a rawness to being that age, it’s an age of discovery. And that stuff is very exciting but there’s no real reason why someone older would create like that or go to that well, it actually gets quite sad when people try to go to that well. Now I’m older and I’m more of an emotional person and I’m less about fireworks and more about volcanoes! I don’t know how to put it, there’s something much deeper now when I create than when I was a young punk.

On that note, rather than me crowbar into an incredibly long question, why don’t you sum up the concept of Mountainhead? It’s extremely simple, a one metaphor fits all type-deal. I knew I wanted to sing about capitalism but not put too fine a point on it. I mean, it’s not a very subtle metaphor. But I knew there were certain elements of it that I wanted to get across, namely the Sisyphean sort of feeling of it being pointless and also, the fact that there’s this trade-off between building the mountain but having to live in the dark, which was a big touchstone for me when I read Capitalist Realism by Mark Fisher, this sense that our lives are getting worse in some ways, that the more we progress we’re becoming more isolated and we’re shutting off large parts of our humanity in the search for this goal of ever expanding and growing our economy and trying to climb the ladder. It’s simple enough that you can’t really fault it, I’m not saying this is exactly how we live, there’s not enough to it for it to fail. It’s something everyone gets straight away.

A lot of the lyrics touch on that theme but which of the songs is the most personal to you that veer away from the concept? Probably The Witness, that’s definitely not really related to the concept. That’s pretty personal. There’s a line in there about this… I shot this bird with an air rifle when I was a kid. I walked into the shed and I saw it, this cute little chaffinch or whatever and it just sat there looking at me and then I picked up the air rifle, I knew where it was and I killed it.

You bastard! I know, I’m telling you this now cos I felt bad, I’m not saying it was a good thing! For some reason that came back to me. During the very early sessions on the album, we’d all gone away somewhere and when we got back, Alex went up to his studio at the top of his house and a pigeon had got into the room and thrashed and thrashed to get back out for four days, there’s like blood all over, feathers everywhere. I was like, ‘Guys, this is a sign… we’re gonna call it The Pigeon!’. Obviously we didn’t but birds do get into it - Canary obviously is a song there - and this thing about that bird and it flew into my head. That’s very personal. But then the rest of the song is about some fucked up stuff that happened to me in the pandemic that haven’t properly been able to talk about in these situations because it’s a bit too personal, basically. A lot of Raw Data Feel was about trying to deal with that as well. I should’ve called it Raw Data Deal. That’s the only moment I’ve given over to that thing on this newest album, the last song. I haven’t actually been able to listen back to it because it makes me too emotional when I think about what it’s really about. But that’s not for public consumption, it’s not needed.

Fair enough. Tell me about the dynamic between the four of you, because that seems like a really important point in your longevity. Apart from a very early line-up change, it’s been the four of you the whole way. Yeah, it’s great. We’ve settled into our roles over the last 15 years. Alex [Robertshaw, guitarist and keyboards] is very much the producer now and by way of that, he’s ended up writing a lot of the guitar and keyboard parts, which I would usually write more of in the past. I’ve become completely consumed by the emotion of getting the message across in the lyrics and stuff like that, as well as obviously writing songs. But in terms of how they sound, I’m less and less involved or concerned, that’s Alex’s playground more. Mike [Spearman, drummer] and Jez [Pritchard, bass] are very good at taste-making. Me and Alex do 98% of the composition and then those guys are much more like, ‘Well, I feel like this is a good way for us to go or this is better than this one,’ things you can’t really tell when you’re the creator and you think everything’s great. They’re also really good at the whole business side of the band, which is the less romantic end but incredibly important. So talking to accountants and they’re having meetings with the labels and Mike’s producing the videos, getting organised, all the stuff that me and Alex being “the creatives” are terrible at because we have the luxury of being terrible at them. Those guys fill in the gaps and they’re really, really good at that. Jez is really good at meeting people and all that kind of shit, so it works really well. You’ve got at least one person covering every possible angle. I’m doing a lot of the visual stuff now. I’m designing a lot of the visual side of the band, basically most things that we’re tweeting or videos is all being done by me. As a unit we could basically do this by ourselves... if someone gave us loads of money, which is how we operate.

My last question is a random one but it’s been on my mind. On Christmas Day, you dug up a four-year-old Liam Gallagher tweet where he called the producer Dave Sardy “Dave Sardine”, and I wanted to know how your Christmas Day mind had been drawn back to that. Haha! Well, when it happened someone tweeted it to me and I thought was funny and I retweeted then. Then recently, I remembered it and I went to see if it was still there. It was and I was like, ‘I’m gonna save that for Christmas Day’ - it wasn’t related to what I was up to. It’s just like, right, ‘Christmas Day, time to tweet my favourite tweet’. It will always be my favourite tweet because it’s how angry he is about Dave Sardine. It’s so good.

The full article is available on substack.

#jonathan higgs #ee #everything everything #the new cue #mountainhead

29 notes · View notes

longeyelashedtragedy · 3 months

Note

Frank James Lampard OBE 👀

ougughgh, you whipped out the order of the british empire? 🫡 😳 maybe i was wrong to judge them teaboos back in the superwholock days (that's a JOKE)

@protect-daniel-james i'll respond here but i might use your ask to post some more Photos cause i'm not sure how to pick just one photo of the Long Eyelashed Tragedy

favorite thing about them: uhhh...so much? he gets me right in the FEELS, man. he tells on himself constantly and seems to be completely unaware. sadboi footballer with pretty dead eyes who loves to Read and took a little notebook with him on the team bus. the intersection of having it easy/privileged childhood & traumatic things that shouldn't have happened--i relate. exhilarating to watch his old performances and he seems like he'd be fun to have a conversation with. fascinating to analyze, this all feels sort of reductive...i'm very Fond of him and some of it is hard to put into words, but i feel very "what's not to love?" about him lol. and he has such a Narrative. he's very easy to write about though it probably doesn't turn out well at all (sounds great and deep in my head though)

also i find a lot of footballers hot but don't really experience significant attraction to them but he is an exception you know what i'm just going to end this here

least favorite thing about them: he lost weight after everton BOO HISS

favorite line: omg, frank james lampard OBE is funny because he's often so intelligent and articulate and then just whips out the WEIRDEST/most cringe thing out of nowhere. some examples:

-his "fight" with klopp on the touchline

THIS wtfery:

these BANGERS:

this classic example of childhood trauma "too old when you're young and too young when you're old" (what some ppl would call "entitled male athlete" but like..i know better than that lol). it's also just patently RIDICULOUS he was like 36...bolding is mine for the classic lines

But it was while on a night out in Manchester during pre-season that the ex-West Hamer star showed his new American team-mates exactly how ex-Premier League stars like to party.

Columbus Crew centre-back Josh Williams was with NYCFC at the time and he told the story to the Athletic.

...“This place is packed, multiple levels. And as soon as we walk in, you could see everybody recognise Frank. And it’s just me, my teammate and Frank and all the energy is just on him.

"He picks up a bottle, this huge bottle of Grey Goose, picks it up, opens it, just starts downing it. Passes it to me and goes, ‘Boys, we’re not putting this down until it’s fucking gone.’”

The trio passed the bottle around three times when the rest of NYCFC showed up.

After about an hour in the club, Lampard approached Williams and asked him about 'that game you Americans play where you throw the little balls — he’s talking about beer pong.'

ok let's see...

brotp: random one but i recently learned that he and ian wright are friends? and i just love that so much both as a gooner and a person. wrighty complements him well and is very...respectful lol. if we consider lamperry to be only one-sided romantic, then definitely lamperry

notp: franko x steven gerrard...there's only One situation in which i've enjoyed that ship (and it was an au). it does nothing for me normally, and i personally don't find stevie g attractive, so! again, it's like an "ew get it away from me" notp, it's just not my vibe.

otp: i mean...lamperry requited. franko x cousin jamie jamie jamie ....maybe someday they can give romeo and juliet their happy ending. and of course, frank and mason...i just really like this ship so much and it keeps my brain so entertained...even though it's not "healthy" and doesn't end well. these ships are all SO good!!!

random headcanon: oh gosh idk...i don't think i have any "headcanons" because everything he says and does in public just kind of tracks. bet he's done coke lol. idk

unpopular opinion: HOO BOY!!! here we go!!! i am aware that i have a wooby nature, but i actually like that about myself. i'd rather approach someone--anyone with softness and then tone it down when i decide they're a dick, than be uncharitable for no reason. that's my way and that's how it's gonna be! so that said...franko gets accusations of "arrogance" and i...i don't see it at all. it might come from his disingenous press conferences at chelsea and everton, but i see that as a man who has horrid self-esteem, was used to being treated by media and fans like a Starboy, and once he started doing badly, had no idea how to handle professional failure--not one single idea. remember on "diary of a ceo" over the summer when he said his first chelsea sacking was the first time he's ever failed professionally? that's insane. Like, imagine making it to age FORTY-TWO and not having a legitimate school or career disaster. that's insane to me. so he just put up a front and got cranky and defensive and funky about where he placed the blame (and to be honest--he has not done a good job as a manager, but he also wound up in some pretty dismal positions. taking chelsea caretaker manager was really shooting himself in the foot because that season just needed to be put out of its misery lol). i'm not saying he's a bastion of humility, or some misunderstood coaching genius, but i don't see him as any more or less arrogant than someone else. idk--i see a weird level of contempt for him that doesn't really feel deserved? he's just a sad sack. sort of a hubris tale in a sense, but also a tale of a man who is still stuck as a kid in some ways...i need to stop before i write a really bad dissertation lol

uh that said...

song i associate with them:

finally a footballer i can give a good answer to this for!!!

name me a better combination than me x lamps x pink floyd x this summer! comfortably numb, shine on you crazy diamond (all of it, but particularly sections vi-ix), wish you were here...

(i know this sounds basic...i know there are more i'm not remembering)

"money" in some ways because i listened to it while writing "visited upon the sons" (it hit me afterward that the fic and the song are structured in the same way...the chicken or the egg?)

from the oooold first days of the lampardverse:

behind blue eyes/a well respected man

also! wouldn't it be nice kind of reminds me of him and cousin jamie loool

favorite picture of them:

dude idk! i really love looking at photos of him! this is granit levels of difficulty...i Cannot choose so let's go with this sad sack from the blessed everton days:

#anonymous #answered #long eyelashed tragedy #!!!!!#i feel like i just lost 78784 followers lol

17 notes · View notes

borisbubbles · 4 months

Text

Eurovision 2023: #18

18. AUSTRIA Teya & Salena - "Who the hell is Edgar?" 15th place

youtube

Decade ranking: 51/116 [Above Ronela, below Jeangu]

OOOOOH MIO PADRE, I'VE GOTTA ROAST ME SOME BARBIES, ooooooooooh no.

It does NOT pay to be funny, sadly. Yeah, I wish I didn't have to go there, but sometimes the stars just don't align. With Loreen and Pasha being reunited and the year generally being mediocre, Liverpool 2023 already had enough parallels with Baku 2012. The "preshow obsession has a disappointing live" part I could have done without.

Like seriously. Was there ever a more slam-dunk end of contest favourite for me than TeyaLena? (well other than You Know Who, but we'll get there). My recent faves were Think About Things, Shum and In Corpore Sano. All uptempo, all enjoyable, all secretly very clever entries, eating and mothering (or in Daði's case brothering) as THE act on everyone's lips as the dust settled. Edgar was one of two entries who could have been The One for this year!!! But as Poe Poe Poe became Poo Poo Poo I'm forced to pack up my praise pen and bring out my critical analysis quill :-/

Fortunately, like the ladies, I am such a good writer, so enjoy this lengthy review, which is more like a vivisection:

ON THE FLAWS OF 'WHO THE HELL IS EDGAR?'

The first instinct would be to say that the song was impossible to bring, but I don't buy into that logic. "Edgar" was great, a vision, and absolute fucking BANGER. That's the hill, I'll die on. Despite the flaws of its live, I will always cherish it as a song.

Granted, the song was a lot of things at once. That's what made it both iconic and live liability. You try to explain to a layman casual audience member what Edgar is about. How it satirizes the music industry. How self-deprecating it is. What an API is. What an A&R is. What the 0.003 stands for. Now do that in the THIRTY SECONDS TIME FRAME it takes for the video teaser to play. You can't. You can be the best commentator or the most eloquent eurovision-obsessed guncle. Also, you're making me think with your words. Thinking bad. ME WANT ENJOY SHOW. ME WANT GOOD TIME, NO THINK.

So, there's two approaches you can take here, if you play to win.

The first by embracing the campness and going full ham, which how the televote countries would handle it. Your Moldovas, Ukraines, Finlands, Serbias, Norways. Hand Edgar over to one of them, and TeyaLena would start bent over a laptop or typewriter, harrassed by ravens or men in Edgar Allen Poe costumes, who would so a possessed zombie dance while TeyaLena try to escape the clutches.

Naturally, such an act requires less effort from the performers and could be seen as an easy cop-out by juries (die, juries!) and result in a loss of points and well, Austria don't play that way. Austria don't have a built in televote base and feel they are better off playing for the same juries that would normally reject an Edgar.

So instead they went for option two: embrace the hyperpop and try to build momentum off its hyperactivity. Fair enough, that's less interesting and safe, but a valid choice that can result in a very good time.

On this occasion though, it was a MISTAKE.

The best part about Edgar was the combination of dumb hyperpop memes with clever satire, and the staging ignored the latter completely. It showed Edgar Allan Poe TWICE, and then spliced in the Spotify reference in the background without context. That was all the act did with the satire. They should have named this song "Where the hell is Edgar?". The vague references only work when the entire audience is already in on the joke, otherwise it's a three mins of braincell murder. If a pleb tuned in blind (over 75% of the audience), tough luck on them for trying to make sense of it all. SHOULD HAVE FOLLOWED ESC ON TIKTOK!!!.

Bottom line: THE STAGING WAS PEDANTIC.

Thematic acts can alleviate that problem. Think Konstrakta's spa tableau vivant, Katryna's tron aureole, the presence of Gagnamagnið on the stage alongside Daði Freyr. This year we had Vesna's hexaplet choreography, Käärijä's ballroom dancers, Loreen's panini press, Gustaph's motivational graphics, even Alika's fucking self-playing piano applies to this principle. All of these did well, the competent ones with juries, the camp ones with the tv. Intuitive but thematically fitting visual cues that instinctively get the vibe across without requiring the audience to ponder it too deeply (or become a parody, I SEE YOU, France.) that's what effecive staging is about. Now compare the above good stagings to what Austria came up with: Four dancers in Samanta Tina garb, some more created by the LEDs in the background, and a VERY basic choreography. This is not a just simplification but a dumbing down. Every visual cue comes across as nonsensical, because nothing quite ties it together with the music. If only the song itself had provided us with a clear visual reference point, huh?

Of course, a dumbed down staging concept could still yield a good result despite itself if the live was teeming with energy and bounced off in every direction to match the music. Folks would be voting based on pure performance skill and nothing else. After all, Ewnicorn bluffed its way into third on that very principle. Sadly, neither Teya nor Salena were versed in the art of singing and dancing at the same time.

So ultimately, you're given this awkward performance where Teya acted really well and produced delectable facial expressions - I mean who doesn't love THIS:

-but failed to harmonize with Salena, while Salena hit most of her notes but clearly struggled with the Dietmann's simplistic, toddler-like choreography, like a Leila Jane or Mirud on stilts. Nice that they complimented each others weaknesses by showcasing opposite talents, but if you wanna do well just get yourself a girl who can do both.

And there we have it, Teya and Salena. High Risk, High Reward usually plays out for the better, but this is one such occasion where the high risk was avoided and the just reward was a disappointing score on the middle of the scoreboard. Such is the price of not embracing your queer-coded campness in Eurovision. We have landed in mild-like hell, just like Nina Zilli and Jonsi and all the others that I wish I could love more, but sadly did not live up to their initial hype. That too is life. Onward to better things, and things will surely get good as we move forward, right?

THE RANKING

#Eurovision 2023 #Eurovision Song Contest #ESC #ESC 2023 #Liverpool 2023 #Eurovision #Austria #Teya and Salena #Who the hell is Edgar?#Edgar Allen Poe #Youtube

11 notes · View notes

cleoselene · 1 month

Text

nine favorite albums in no particular order,

tagged by @an-ivy-covered-summer (thank you I love to ramble about music)

Portishead - Dummy - This is probably my favorite album of all time? It's perfect to me. It makes me feel so good, physically and mentally. It's the quintessential 90s album, the definitive trip-hop album, and always makes the list of "25 Albums You Should Own On Vinyl" for a reason. It's immaculate and it spawned a slew of imitators who never ever got close to this kind of quality. I think people also don't appreciate hop much trip-hop/downtempo has influenced today's pop music. SZA's latest album especially felt super trip-hoppy, so did elements of Midnights.

Massive Attack - Mezzanine - if there's one other trip-hop album you should pick up, it's this one. This album benefits greatly from Elizabeth Fraser of Cocteau Twins' ethereal vocals. Every song on this is amazing. When I was playing this album for a friend about a decade younger, he said "oh this is the album with the music from all the movies." lol. Indeed It's been licensed to hell for a reason!

Tori Amos - Scarlet's Walk - Okay I set a rule for myself that each artist would only get one album in this list to avoid putting up nine Tori Amos albums, but Scarlet is my favorite. This road trip across America immediately after 9/11 is one of the first albums to... if not criticize the US response to 9/11, because it was really too early for that, but to be very, very wary of what the response would be. It's an album that expresses sympathy for a wounded nation, while also acknowledging the nation's sins. I think this is one of a few Tori albums that was too high concept for the mainstream audience, but Tori has never been for the mainstream audience, anyway.

Taylor Swift - evermore - Of all the Taylor Swift albums, it was reputation that brought me to the dance and Red that made me fall madly in love. But evermore is her best work. It's perfecting upon the formula she came up with in folklore. Which, don't get me wrong, I love folklore, but with Taylor's obsession with being "sonically cohesive" it's kind of a bummer of an album? I appreciate how the vibes of evermore are more varied. Also, "ivy" is the most beautiful song she's ever written.

Green Day - American Idiot - This album doesn't need much description, it's so well-known, but nothing really compares to how hard this album hit during the height of Bush Era Hell. As a 26 year old when this came out, it felt like my generation was getting our mainstream protest music, finally.

Paul Simon - Graceland - This album won the Grammy for Album of the Year for a reason: it's soooo good. I know there's a lot of drama/controversy surrounding it, but I always felt Paul approached his love of African music from a genuine place. It's such a good midlife crisis album, I understand it now more that I am in midlife than I did when I discovered it at age 12. And the bass line for "You Can Call Me Al" is fucking legendary, isn't it? PS - Paul Simon is the greatest songwriter of all time.

VNV Nation - Automatic - Why was it so hard to pick a VNV Nation album? I really kind of wanted to put last year's Electric Sun in the mix, but I need to let that sit with me before I add it to a list like this. This is the album that brought me to the dance: "Gratitude" is an all-time fave VNV song of hopefulness. "Control" is the dance club banger to end all dance club bangers. I loooooooove this band. I wish there were more futurepop bands out there, tbh, it's SUCH an excellent genre.

Lana del Rey - Norman Fucking Rockwell! - This is Lana's best. It's not really even close. This is one of the best albums of the 21st century. The way "The greatest" so perfectly encapsulates the Trump-era nihilism... I DO want shit to feel the way just like it used to. Kanye West IS blond and gone. We DIDN'T know that we had it all. :( The ache of nostalgia in our current very painful times hits perfectly on this record (WHYYYY don't I own it on vinyl yet??)

Puscifer - Existential Reckoning - So hard for me to pick a Maynard project and not pick TOOL, but Puscifer has become my favorite of his three bands. Existential Reckoning is similar to NFR! in that it captures the political moment. Maynard has never seemed particularly political in his music until this record, which is pretty interesting. ER seems to be advocating for a return to rationality over ideology, of moderation over extremism, of science over faith. It takes a very humanist approach to looking at life in 2020. "Apocalyptica" is probably the craziest song because it sounds like it was written about COVID, but it was not, in fact was written just a few months earlier. "Bedlamite" is the coda to the album that promises hope: It's gonna be all right. When they did this album Live at Arcosanti and sang this song while the sun rose behind them, four days before the 2020 election and Maynard crooned that it would be all right, I looked at my roommate, and I said, "it really is, isn't it?" And we both got kind of overwhelmed. And then a few days later, it was. Trump lost.

I went into way detail >_> told you I like rambling about music

tagging: @swiftzeldas @emmaswanned @brightnshinythings @mariacallous @ouijawaydidhego

#meme

13 notes · View notes

cinewhore · 11 months

Text

To the Ends of the Earth (2)

Pairing: Lara Croft & Marcus Pike (Tomb Raider AU)

Rating: Mature

warnings: mentions of missing parents, guns. angst. fluff.

Summary: After obtaining a seemingly normal piece of art from a flea market, Marcus Pike enlists the help of an old friend in tracking down its origins. They both get more than they bargain for.

A/N: an repost. I really have some bangers stored in my google docs. I obviously love putting Marcus Pike into situations. Credit to the gif maker. Divider by @/saradika

“No.”

Marcus deflates, eyes boring into Ginny’s back as she washes out Ava’s baby bottles. The clank of the plastic as it drops into the left side of the sink waiting to be rinsed out drums through Marcus’s chest as he tries to find a way to sway his wife.

“Baby, this could be huge. More than anything I’ve ever done my entire career-”

“-which is why it’s more dangerous! Can’t you see that?”

Another bottle gets tossed.

“I can take care of myself and you know that.” Ginny laughs at this.

“I know very well what you’re capable of, Marcus. I know that while you were in the field you had to undergo certain training processes and that you could sniff out danger from a mile away. It is not you I am worried about.”

Marcus swallows. He knows where this is going. “Is this-is this about Lara?”

Lara had egged him on to ask Ginny out, sure. However, they were both...cautious of each other. So much so that Marcus had to set up a fake dinner with each of them just to get them in the same room. They had the same goal: keeping Marcus safe. While he appreciated it, there were lines that needed to be drawn in the sand. Lara wasn’t allowed to just pop up at the house in the dead of the night to rant about her new findings and Ginny wasn’t allowed to make snide remarks about their relationship.

Boundaries. There needed to be boundaries.

Ginny rests her hands along the edge of the sink, sighing. “I am worried for her. If what you mention is true, the things about the portal, it could be potentially destructive and lead her down a path she may not be able to recover from.”

Marcus approaches Ginny, wrapping his arms around her waist. She leans back into him, inhaling his cologne. Marcus leaves a few kisses along her shoulder blades, tucking his head on her neck.

“I’m worried about her too, darling.”

Ginny shifts herself, turning so that she could face Marcus. She smiles to herself as she traces his frown lines with her finger. “You retired to be here, with me and the children. I can’t do this thing without you, Pike.”

Marcus nods. Ginny sells houses for a living and while that doesn’t particularly involve any dangerous situations, Marcus still worries about her each and every time she leaves the house in the morning. He couldn’t imagine what it felt like, being home alone with newborn twins while he was out chasing down the tail of some art thief. Marcus made a promise to her and he wasn’t going to break it.

“Just give me a week. If nothing comes of it, I’ll come right back, straight to you. You will never have to do this alone, my love.”

Comfort floods Ginny and she lurches forward to kiss Marcus, sealing the deal.

“One week.”

Hillary hums a small tune to himself, breaking his stride to dust off a vase. He smooths himself over as he enters the library, where Lara had situated herself since the arrival of the “guests”.

“Miss Croft, would you care for something? Perhaps some water?”

“No, thank you, Hil.” Lara doesn’t bother to look up from her work, the books spilling over themselves.

“You’ve been at this for hours.”

Hillary is met with no response. He meanders over to the globe, pulling the top open to showcase bottles of brown liquor. He pours a gracious glass, topping it off with a single ice cube.

The glass enters Lara’s field of sight as Hillary sets it down right in front of her, clearing his throat. She gives in, dragging her tired body down into her chair. “Thank you.”

“The guest left today with no fuss, may I be bold to assume you played nicely?”

Lara smiles into her glass. “I gave them a warning.”

“Lara Croft! The infamous archeologist, world renowned.” Balashov croons, arms outstretched. His convoy had managed to garner the attention of many of the party goers, Ginny standing in front of them defiantly.

“Balashov Rodionovich, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Lara saunters over to the group of men, all clad in dark suits.

“It has been a while, figured I’d make a visit. Just happened to be in America.” Balashov squares his shoulders, folding his hands.

“I’m busy.” Lara’s curt tone does not sit well with him. He grins a wolfish grin, chuckling along with his henchmen.

“I can tell! Remind me, which one is yours again?” Balashov gestures to the children.

Macus tightens his jaw, shifting a little closer to Lara.

“Would you like some tea?” She offers Balashov.

He laughs again. What the fuck is with this guy? “Never cared for you Brits or your tea.”

“Vodka?”

Balashov clicks his teeth. “Bingo.”

After assuring Marcus that everything was ok, Lara ushers the men into the bar, serving up the drinks herself. One of Balashov’s men stands guard at the door while Marcus stands adjacent to him. Lara couldn’t get rid of him even if she tried.

Balasov takes a sip of the drink Lara hands him, humming in bliss. He points to Marcus. “Is this puny man your lover? Color me hurt, Lara.”

“Watch it,” Marcus sneers.

“Easy,” Lara warns him. “What do you want, Balashov?”

“Ты знаешь, чего я хочу.” you know what I want.

“I don’t have it and if I did, I wouldn’t give it to you.” Lara tells him simply.

“Word on the street is that one of the Dutch epitaph pieces was uncovered in Jordan, the same one that is said to possess magical powers, the exact same one your father more or less lost his life over, makes no nevermind to you?”

Marcus really doesn’t like this guy.

“You shouldn’t listen to everything you hear, Bal.”

Balashov finishes his drink, setting down the glass carefully on the bartop. “I have gathered a team to track the rest of the pieces for me. If it happens that my team leads me back here to you, I can not promise you I will put everything back as neatly as I have found it.”

Lara holds up her own glass. “Господа, ваше здоровье.” Gentlemen, cheers.

Hillary grins as Lara recounts the activities from earlier that day. “Where do you think the other two are?”

“Not Jordan, that’s for sure. Rodionovich is trying to catch a scent, if he had something he wouldn’t have come here. I’ve been going through my fathers journals for answers but all he’s left me are riddles.”

Hillary walks around the desk to gaze over Lara’s shoulders, studying the many papers she has laid out across the surface.

“And what of Marcus?”

Lara takes a deep sigh. “I’ll have his piece moved, inspected, and then placed in storage. We can’t take any risks, not with the children being there.”

“Little buggers, they are.” Hillary chides to himself, picking off a piece of lint from his suit.

“Yeah.”

The room goes silent, Lara remembering fondly when her father would chase her around the estate. She barely remembers her mother being present, always scolding the two of them for making such a fuss. Lara misses her mother. She misses everyone. The house was too big, too loud and too quiet at the same time.

“I miss her too.” Hillary pats Lara on the shoulder, delicately wiping away a tear that had fallen and landed on her cheek.

“I need to know where she went, Hil.”

“What difference would it make if you found her?” Hillary asks, titling his head.

“I don’t know-maybe we could be a family? I have so many questions to ask her.”

“Lara,” Hillary reaches over and hands Lara a framed photo. Marcus and Ginny had just brought Ava home and everyone was smushed together for a quick photo opp before things got too hectic. “This is your family. Me and Alex, we care about you too.”

Lara knows this. She knows that she is loved, that they would do anything to bring a smile on her face. There were times when it wasn’t enough. She wanted something of her own and she figured that if she could locate her mother, she could finally get what she wanted.

“So!” Hillary stands to attention, gathering up the empty glass. “What’s the plan?”

“I need guns. Big guns.”

#Marcus pike & Lara croft #Marcus pike #lara croft #tomb raider #fic: to the ends of the earth

16 notes · View notes

tarrevizsla · 2 years

Text

a lot of people talk about the lay of leithian rock opera finrod vs sauron duel (and rightfully so, it's a banger) but my favorite version of finrod v sauron is the czech version!! here's the lyrics, under the cut:

Sauron: Say farewell to your freedom, you will never see the sun shine again.

Finrod: Darkness is not what I fear, the sparkle of stars is closer to my heart.

S: Say farewell to your home, It will soon become wreckage.

F: My home has always been across the Sea and you cannot change that.

S: Say farewell to your family, I will gladly welcome them into my power.

F: I have not taken a wife, free is my heart, I am alone.

S: Say farewell to everything you have ever wanted, you will lose everything you had loved.

F: When I began this path, I knew then what it would cost me.

S: Say farewell to your life, and your futile mission.

F: I knew my fate, I have accepted it, this promise is one I will keep. I knew my fate, I have accepted it, this promise is one I will keep.

Finrod’s interlude

F: A powerful Maia you were ages ago, What happened to that time, when your wisdom awed us all?

S: A powerful Maia I still am, you will know, ere day’s ending.

F: You rule by fire, lies, and wrought steel, character and honor you have traded for a hard fist.

S: Those words “character” and “honor” are nothing but echoes of meaningless gestures.

F: Aulë was your lord, not Morgoth, only a fool would exchange the Smith for the Father of Lies.

S: Worm, were you called here to judge who is the better lord?

F: Your lord is fond of doing evil; do you not have any fear that in his anger he will crush you to dust?

S: Do not worry about my fate, I will only consult with myself.

F: The will of the Powers you defy, your punishment is approaching, do you have no fear of the Valar?

S: The Valar do not worry me, but you should fear more for yourself. The Valar do not worry me, you should fear more for yourself.

Sauron’s interlude

S: Say farewell to your freedom… F: Wisdom you abandoned long ago…

S: Say farewell to your home… F: How easily you sold your honor…

S: Say farewell to your family… F: You have become such a fool…

S: Say farewell to everything you have ever wanted… F: Morgoth, know he is a volatile lord…

S: Say farewell to your life… F: Do you not fear the Valar?

Do you not fear the Valar?

Spoken: S: And you?

What a proud elf, honor embodied, surely you can bear the consequences of your deeds; be sure that I can read between the lines.

You are hiding the goal of your journey, yet you have revealed too much:

For he who remembers Valinor, from Aman fled, Valar defied, he, who hides his face hypocritically, must be a rebel and a liar.

Did you think you had not revealed more? Every word has a double meaning. He who boasted as you did must have been born of a Noldor king.

Remember Fëanor’s wrath, the shed blood at Alqualondë. Tell me: even you also had a sword in your hand, or did you look on idly?

Or did you idly look on?

What a proud elf, honor embodied, surely you can bear your guilt.

#finrod: your lord is fond of doing evil #sauron: i'm evil #.....anyways #my..... translations?#yeah we'll go with that #my translations #beren a luthien #beren and luthien #finrod felagund #sauron #duel of finrod and sauron

72 notes · View notes

coldgoldlazarus · 10 months

Note

Do you have a favorite of the metroid games (including pinball)

Despite the temptation to answer with Pinball for the meme, tragically I must admit that I have not played Pinball. I am sure that if I did so, it would take top rank, but alas. For now, my loyalty is to Metroid Prime 2: Echoes

Which isn't really an unpopular opinion anymore lol, I understand it used to be the least favorite, but now has been reconsidered and has plenty of defenders; for better or worse I came to the party late and uninformed and just like it based off my own experience with it.

I honestly think it's tied with Metroid Prime in terms of overall quality, though it has different strengths and weaknesses, and is kinda a more uneven experience overall. Soundtrack and aesthetic isn't as great and memorable, but they're more consistent in selling the atmosphere while still managing to achieve a few good wow moments here and there. World layout/progression/narrative delivery is more linear and direct compared to Prime, in both good and bad ways. (Though still less so than Corruption at least, lol) Story branches out from Metroid's usual subject matter and recurring motifs, but also feels kinda disconnected as a result. Bosses are bigger and better, and the Spider Ball gets its dues here, but there are also plentiful frustrating QoL-related decisions scattered throughout the game as a whole, one of which turns a potentially great boss into the absolute worst. (Spider Guardian Phase 3 my beloathed) Chozo Ghosts vs. Dark Pirate Commandos. Beam Ammo. (Which I had no problem with personally, but I've heard even other defenders of the game apparently tend to dislike.) From an objective standpoint, I think Echoes is on par with Prime, building off of its foundations well, but also liable to be a more frustrating experience in a bunch of little ways.

But from a subjective standpoint? I just love it a bit more despite its flaws, all thanks to Dark Aether. The creepiness of the dark world and overall moodier atmosphere, and how the game handled difficulty in a way that I really appreciated, make me able to look past its shortcomings in other areas and choose it even over Prime's overall smoother experience.

---

The vibes throughout are simply impeccable, and I love how little touches like Samus slumping exhaustedly in the save station animation, and the frequency of Luminoth corpses littered throughout the world, really help to sell the severity of the situation. Not to mention the opening investigation of the missing Federation troopers, and how their eventual fate (and the sobering realization that they never even met the Ing proper) really sets the tone powerfully right off the bat.

And it's not all gloom and doom, either, I have just as much love for the bright and sunny Temple Grounds and the associated banger of a theme as for the darker stuff. The environmental design is gorgeous throughout, and I love how bits of Luminoth decoration and artwork are visually echoed (heh) later on in the Light Suit. But even then, it doesn't feel like a complete break in tone, light to offset the shadow and make it darker by contrast.

On that note, I just adore Dark Aether, with its swirling purple skies, the twisted versions of parallel rooms, and eerie distortions of the light world area music; just mwah, chef's kiss from me. Plus the fact of constantly taking damage while outside the light bubbles, further underlining the grim atmosphere and adding an extra layer of anxiety to both exploration and combat.

---

Which brings me to my second point; I really enjoy how the whole concept of Dark Aether's toxic atmosphere provided a compelling challenge that is like, the kind of approach to difficulty that I actually like. AM2R, much as I love 99% of it, I wound up giving up on at the finish line, because the last two Shinespark puzzles demanded a level of pixel-perfect timing and precise execution of several consecutive, individually tricky actions within the space of a second at most that I simply could not pull off, which kinda killed my motivation to continue despite being right on the Metroid Queen's doorstep.

With Dark Aether, there isn't that same demand for perfect execution, but instead an ever-present source of danger; that emphasized, (for me at least) a fine mixture of thinking ahead by using knowlege of the light world's layout to navigate the dark, and a need to be willing to take risks and go into areas without the light-bubbles. Sometimes that risk would pay off, and sometimes it wouldn't and I'd die; but either way I'd be getting something out of it, whether the reward of success or the reward of learning.

Similarly, I think I died once or twice during the Chykka fight, to the atmosphere instead of the boss itself, and it felt like an entirely fair outcome for playing very haphazardly on that attempt. So to get back to the point, I like how it didn't demand flawless timing and execution, but still forced me to play well, and employ a fine mixture of cautious planning and calculated gambles to make my way through both exploration and the boss fights. Even if not done through the same means as Dark Aether, this is the kind of approach to difficulty I would like to see more of from the series in general; fingers crossed for Prime 4.

---

Like I said, I think Echoes isn't as smooth or polished an experience as Prime, and replaying it is as much a reminder of all those little frustrations as a reinforcement of my love for it, but I still think that the fantastic execution of the tone and tough-but-fair approach to difficulty keep it my personal favorite despite the flaws.

#not a reblog #metroid #metroid prime #metroid prime 2 #metroid prime echoes #asks

10 notes · View notes

cboffshore · 3 days

Text

Hey there - I'm Lila!

If you're seeing this, it could mean any of the following: you're already a mutual, you like Ninjago, you really like Ninjago's infamous (ha!) sixth season Skybound, or you know me from something else entirely. Or it's none of those and you've just taken a super wrong turn. No matter what - I'm glad you're here!

Join me under the cut for a more detailed look at my account, or just venture off on your own - the choice is yours.

WHO I AM & WHERE TO FIND ME

You can call me Lila! I've been around the Ninjago fandom since 2011 under a whole bunch of different names and accounts, with all the bizarre stories and memories to show for it. Now, though, you can find me under one of two handles: @cboffshore (here and on Twitter, where I'm not as active as I used to be) or OffshoreWriter over on AO3.

My title as Skybound Analysis PhD holder was born from a joke (initially given to me when I overanalyzed Skybound's color scheme and then Flintlocke's development in a Discord server) but grew into, well, not a joke; I take Skybound about as seriously as someone can take a toy commercial cartoon. Through all of my years in the Ninjago fandom, I've never seen a season as misunderstood and contentious as Skybound. Unfortunately, I happen to like it a lot for what it is, and I'm willing to defend it very hard (but don't get me wrong, I know it's got flaws! I'm not completely nuts!).

Outside of Ninjago overanalysis, I'm into a few other things: crocheting, the occasional piece of digital art, music (special faves include I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME, Fall Out Boy, and My Chemical Romance), and Bionicle (but only on a casual "wow cool vibes and killer writing" basis because that timeline does NOT make sense to me.).

SOME STUFF I DO

The best way to get into my work is just to explore all the nooks and crannies of my blog, but for those of you in a rush, here are links to some of my favorite projects:

On Sea, Sunlight, and Sky, aka OSSAS, is what I'd consider the crown jewel of my AO3 catalog: a Nya-centric series diving into her experience during the last few episodes of Skybound. Updated every December until I decide to lay her to rest (which, by the looks of it, will be the 2024 installment), this is my longest-term project that exemplifies how I approach Skybound as a season. If you only check out one corner of my work, make it OSSAS. You can find all things OSSAS under #ossas tag here on my blog (newcomers beware of spoilers!)

Yours To Keep: Rethinking Skybound Through Fashion is an older project of mine that blends fashion design and Nadakhan character analysis. As in, I drew a trio of banger outfits and then wrote essays about what all their details meant. Trust me on this, it's a cool one! (This is a holdover from when my fandom involvement was almost exclusively Ninjago character analysis-based couture fashion art... you can thank Giles Panton for that.)

Sorrow is All The Rage: An Analysis of Sexual Assault in Jay-Centric Skybound Fanfiction is a two (technically, three) part essay detailing my attempts to come to terms with the (frankly rather concerning) trend of gratuitous SA inclusion in a surprising swath of popular Skybound fanfiction. (Spoiler alert: I still think it's weird as hell and I haven't come to terms with it... but I have gotten way better at using the block button to keep it out of my line of sight.) The link in the title will take you to part one; part two is linked at the end, and part three's mini update is lurking somewhere in those tags. Please note: this essay is not an attack, or a condemnation, although it may come across that way at times. This was written largely as a vent piece about an issue that has disturbed me deeply and affected how I go about interpreting Skybound, and that definitely impacted my tone. If you'd like to reference this for any reason, or if you have any questions, please shoot me an ask or DM.

#Lila speaks #Lila writes #pinned post

5 notes · View notes

please-picturemeintheweeds · 12 days

Note

Is Bejeweled a break up song? or a bragging song? or something else?

I think bejeweled is a lot of things. To me, it is a self-empowerment song, in all its messy glory, and learning how to stand up for yourself. Stepping into your own power is way more complicated than #girlpower, so while I think overall it does really capture the experience of reclaiming power/self esteem, it also grapples with how to express that power/autonomy (and anger over the disempowerment - being put in the basement). She is valuable, she owns it, she can choose the path her life takes, and she is choosing to go out and feel good about herself!!! Hell yeah!! Which is not to say that it doesn’t come without implications/consequences/context in the relationship. It reminds me a lot of vigilante shit: ladies always rise above ladies know what people want someone sweet and kind and fun the lady simply had enough!!! There’s a moment where something snaps.

I think it is a song that plays in your mind when you are arguing with someone who wronged you, in the shower, alone. There’s a lot of anger at herself in it, not just at the other person. How could I have let them make me feel this way? I gave them the tools to hurt me as a fucking present!! But then the first time she says she polishes up… there’s a pause, and she says it sort of defeatedly… “nice.” I had all these great points to make about how much you hurt me but when it comes down to it, I’m just… nice, and I let it slide. Which is Immediately followed by the second verse’s pouty and weirdly kinky!!! “baby love, I think I’ve been too good of a girl” and then like a slap across the face “it’s time to teach some lessons! I made you my world (uh) have you heard (uh) I can reclaim the land!!!!” Which is where it turns full empowerment mode, to me. I AM MY OWN WHOLE WORLD! It’s over the top, it’s exaggerated, it’s pop star glitz, it’s camp!

Swifties joke around that bejeweled is a threat, and I want to validate that reading!! The sass!! She’s saying; because of how you’ve made me feel, by the way, I could “forget” I am in a committed long term relationship, and cross some lines, too. She’s not being ~nice~ here with how she talks to the other person. This song captures the ways that power can go to our heads a bit. Like realizing that you’ve been taken advantage of because of how nice you were being really fucks with how you see the spectrum of nice -> mean (or at least, this is what always happens to me!). Her words are condescending, a tad humiliating, dismissive, and tbh a little belittling! And I appreciate so so so much that Taylor is unafraid to be honest in her work. It’s not always a flattering self portrait (because non of us actually have moral purity). Who among us has not ever thought that way about someone who has hurt us? Where is the line of honesty and cruelty when someone has hurt you? That tension is extremely relatable and human. But starting off with the descriptions of how she’s been hurt, walked all over, put in the basement, she put them first and wasn’t even in their top five, definitely justifies all that anger and resentment. We see where she’s coming from, and ultimately, I support women’s wrongs lol like I love that she’s super sassy here. It goes hard and is so fun! It’s music! I just also think it’s an important element of how she approaches the “I’m hot and fuck you for hurting me” pop banger- it’s authentic and directly chews on where self worth actually comes from/where we seek it.

So, to your question, I don’t think it’s exactly a break up song, though it describes a feeling that could absolutely precede a break up. I don’t think it’s exactly a “bragging song” though it portrays a genuine self confidence. It’s an emotionally intimate study of resentment showing up in a relationship where you feel your kindness/understanding/care has not been reciprocated. To use the greatest phrase ever uttered, it is, indeed, “saucy toxic dramatic tragic” and also extremely silly.

#Asks #c #bejeweled #relationships #I’m tagging this joever bc I think the themes here will feel very relevant in a few days but not necessarily bc it’s About YB #Joever #I think it probably was born from a Moment but poured out of a whole variety of experiences that made her feel Like This #Self worth

2 notes · View notes

thesinglesjukebox · 4 months

Text

HANNAH DIAMOND - "AFFIRMATIONS"

youtube

Frank Falisi brings us PC Music's shutdown...

[6.35]

Frank Falisi: There's plenty of irony in pop music, an inherently ironic enterprise. What other word could you use to describe the process of transacting the mutability of feeling into occupational singularity? Perfect pop doesn't set us free, it locks us up: think of nothing else for three minutes. That locking (moving, swerving, heeling) doesn't have to be carceral, but it often is. The domination of image as product means that TikTok becomes pharmakon, manufacturing the lonely need to be occupied and the momentary balm. What does a free pop music look like, then? Imperfect, gum in ear, melted plastic. How do we approach the imperfect? Irony can crack the door open, show a sheen and weaponize it, turn pop into a puncture. First, Hannah Diamond was this gesture, a nonexisting weapon of the pop theory factory. Unstable, she became the extended mix, a concrete angel made to detonate: soon I won't see you at all. A full length, more reflections. Are all of these sounds ironic? Only if self-doubting distance is irony, or if the absent song we call "missing you" is irony. In the kernel of a throbbed and upward-facing synth, Hannah Diamond finds the greatest love of all: "Affirmations." It re-stages the space between irony and earnestness by making love the vehicle for pop instead of the other way around. Neither distanced by detachment or enfranchisement, as open to the virality of a plastic world as it is inoculated from the bottom line, it's the sound of all the lessons of theory and their summary dismissal. Think of everything else for three minutes, one song at a time. Here you are in the song. [9]

Will Adams: A self-help pep-talk set to a synthpop arrangement so shiny and gargantuan that it's bound to pump you up way more than the words themselves. Sort of like if you mashed up MUNA's "Number One Fan" and "Home By Now." (Not a bad concept.) [7]

Alfred Soto: David Gamson co-produced and co-wrote "Affirmations," and I can hear traces of the slippery electro-funk he contributed to Scritti Politti's Cupid & Psyche '85 long ago and far away. This inspirational track is too explicit for a would-be dancefloor banger -- Hannah Diamond wants you to pay attention to her lyrics -- but I am not wont to hold my nose at friends finding solidarity where and when they can. [7]

Crystal Leww: Love her DJ sets! [5]

Leah Isobel: Hannah Diamond's sincerity was always on the surface of her music. Her early singles' lyrics were constructed as straightforward sentences, forcing the melodies to meander in order to fit in all of the syllables. That wordiness could scan as parodic when paired with a melody (and, it must be said, a vocal performance) as grating as that of "Attachment," but the stack of qualifiers and half-confessions on "Every Night" proved to me that she wasn't playing a game. Vulnerability is usually imperfect, and asserting your own desire is usually messy. The point wasn't that the words were articulated and sung perfectly, but that they were sung at all; singing them was an act that reaffirmed her own existence as a whole self with feelings, ideas, and goals. It's a short skip and a jump from that thematic framework to the somewhat overdetermined practice of hyping yourself up in the mirror. But if "Affirmations" feels a little simplistic and pandering at first, Hannah's sincerity still wins me over by the end. It doesn't hurt that David Gamson is a better musical partner for her than A.G. Cook was, since Gamson's productions actually have a bit of physicality and body to counteract their shiny gleam. I love the way the chorus synths do little cartwheels, and I love the driving bass beneath her. Most of all, I love how Hannah's voice sits slightly below the production, warm and open. She invites us into the world that she's built, but she doesn't force. The self doesn't manifest by raw strength; it manifests with patience, care, and attention. And when that happens, it's worth celebrating. [7]

Oliver Maier: Has society progressed past the need for Hannah Diamond? She tries to emphasise that it's the other way around on "Affirmations", and good for her, but I'm not getting much out of it. Like most of her PC Music peers she's left behind the caustic feel of her mid-'10s work for something a bit more sedate, if still faintly tongue-in-cheek. She's interested in the same themes, but she hasn't addressed the problem that's followed her for a decade: the songs aren't always there. "Affirmations" sounds like "Hang With Me" stripped of either big melodies or emotional highs and lows, and that's hard for me to get on board with. [4]

Aaron Bergstrom: As someone who still believes in the revolutionary potential of guitar rock in the year 2023, I certainly can't begrudge Hannah Diamond for summoning the old PC Music spirits one more time to see if any of the ancient incantations still resonate. There's some nostalgic sparkle in the "affirmations/creations" chorus opener the first time around, but I don't think a song has ever lost me as fast as this one did by following up the believable underdog innocence of "I am building my own world" with the grindset soullessness of "I'm a business woman and my own C ... E ... O." [3]

Alex Clifton: I feel like I'm supposed to leap up in rapturous applause, thrilled that someone at this seminar has reminded me that I'm worth something for the low, low price of $500. [4]

Katherine St Asaph: I've got new rules, I count 'em. I gotta girlboss to myself. [4]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: It is extremely difficult to parse these lyrics such that you actually get five affirmations, which I kind of love -- the nature of self-confidence and self-help is always expansive and nebulous, a long and muddled engagement in the mires of doubt. "Affirmations" is joyous enough in its straight-ahead synth-pop arrangement that it almost seems too easy. But there's a certain wan tone to Hannah Diamond's vocal here, the subtlest hint of melancholy embedded between the big hooks and major chords, that leaves "Affirmations" just bitter enough for me to enjoy it. [6]

Brad Shoup: It's a synthpop memory in 4K. There are too many kinda-correct details, all of them too sharp: like a Scritti Politti song finished with machine learning, or a Rachid Lotf poster. I like songs that are shameless about entertaining and songs that are sneaky about being sad, and we've got a little of both here. The repetition of "keep repeating" is hackwork elevated by vocal fuckery that renders each new phrase in a different typeface. There's a bit about recharging ("When I'm all alone late at night/I recalibrate my eyes") that literally sounds like it's coming from a robot pretending to be human. If she'd sung the lines about being a businesswoman and CEO I might have given this a [10] and/or linked "Our Wedding". [8]

Nortey Dowuona: Hannah and David Gamson constantly keep stopping and starting the song. Throughout each chorus, they take the '80s pop drum loop and chop it underfoot, leaving certain synth loops hanging, unspooling like spilt intestines out of the belly. They're purposely ugly moments, like the song is supposed to deny the audience their expectation that it will finish the progression the synth keys promise. The effect gets less jarring and more novel as it keeps going, especially since the song does actually end with a wriggling synth arpeggio and a limp note played until the fader is brought down. [8]

Wayne Weizhen Zhang: Frustratingly, this never breaks through into the more vulnerable and exposed place that the chorus promises. On the other hand, Passion Pit's Gossamer is one of my favorite albums, so the floor is high. [6]

Micha Cavaseno: I've been recently going through my bookmarks that I've repeatedly transferred between browsers since... I dunno, since I was in my teens? I've made a point to check in on those links and see what died and what lives on, what's worth keeping, what's worth frantically seeking via web archives and such. Much like the cockroach, the PC Music thinkpieces and features remain and clutter; it's very funny watching the game be so redundant barely a few years later, like pop's own personal GTA V. Hannah Diamond doesn't sound like she's doing her "is it ironic or is it sincere" pop pastiche anymore, with that extremely post-Goldsmiths jag to it, but instead like the competent parodies of pop you see in comedy skits. Which isn't even to say it's a joke, but the best parts of PC Music were the extra-egging nudges that made you question the sincerity even when it was overflowing. It's why I still mull over SOPHIE's debut, eternally uncertain whether so much of that record was a put-on or a come-out. Here, Hannah's best chances are that she's just giving a little paean or a half-hearted sarcastic tease. Oh well, I preferred GFOTY anyway. [3]

David Moore: I was always skeptical about PC Music. The question of sincerity nagged at me, but in a minor way, like a mosquito bite flares up again the next day -- still with this? -- and I mostly ignored it. When the occasional annoying novelty song came along and riled everyone up, I was capable of enjoying it. But it never really occurred to me to just accept it straight, as pop music indistinguishable from any of the other stuff, until I heard "Affirmations." In part that's because so much time has passed that the sincerity questions all dissipated -- everything seems basically sincere now, but in an oppressive way, almost as if it's somehow worse that the PC Music project turned out to be fundamentally uncynical. But maybe I've changed, too. I played this one for my kids and they loved it, as much as they love Taylor Swift and NewJeans and "Meherbaan" by Reet Talwar and this weird Polish Kidz Bop type song. They don't differentiate between any of it; they accept everything I throw at them in the way I'd bet kids always have. But I differentiate less, too. A lot of battles that used to seem important seem so small compared to the great atomized infinity of music that just keeps on churning itself out into the void. Why shouldn't I listen to "Affirmations" completely straight? You keep repeating, and it turns out you really can be whatever you want to be. [8]

Ian Mathers: As someone who frequently loves pop music and is suspicious of affirmations but also has the sneaking feeling that they'd do me some good, this is perfect for me! Remember, we only say things like "I will NEVER give up" when things are going super well! [9]

Taylor Alatorre: (OOC: I cannot shake the feeling that I don't belong here.) When I applied to the Jukebox in 2016, I was in my senior year of college, and I couldn't wait to get out. Not because I had something great to look forward to, but because I felt I had nothing to look back upon. I'd gone from having a stable group of friends in high school to going entire weeks without speaking outside of classes, not even to my perfectly nice roommate, whom I avoided whenever possible. I would walk around campus silently hating everyone in view, because I assumed they hated me, the mere sight and presence of me. I still thought of autism as some foreign, abstract thing that affected certain "other people," rather than a governing condition of my own life that bled into every interaction, every averted glance, every fenced-off path and never-to-be-opened email. In the midst of this barrenness, I had music, which I listened to religiously and on a disciplined timetable: 600 albums apiece in 2014 and 2015, 615 in 2016. Kacey Musgraves Bully Tyga Desaparecidos. I clicked on every Stereogum link and made lists of new iTunes singles. I nodded along to turn-up anthems without ever going to a party, and breakup anthems without ever bringing someone home. What was I trying to find in all of this? A substitute for connection, a distraction from despair, a safe place in which to feel feelings and act out scenarios, or the pages from that lost instruction manual on how to basically resemble a human being? Like many of my favorite songs from those years, "Affirmations" can be all of those things. A wind tunnel blast of a chorus that's large enough to see myself moving around in; a steady synthesized undercurrent that floods the gaps in my identity and carries me along without pushing; little shiny baubles of sound like items in a school gift shop; girlhood inhabitable from a distance. Hannah Diamond aligns her voice with monotone precision to the notes on a staff, suggesting a diligent observance of the song's titular practice -- then proceeds to blow up such niceties by flinging herself in seven or eight different directions, mindfulness be damned. Such is the joyous paradox of a song whose outwardly polished and public-facing elements are placed in service of these embarrassingly, thrillingly private rituals -- "all my secrets / I can't tell." Even the self-mocking literalness of the CEO talk does its part by validating the collegiate cynic in me who's allergic to the "validation" game, affirming the part of me who still "knows" that I have nothing positive to affirm. The song generously makes room for such doubts even as it nominally moves to vanquish them, an ecumenical approach that many self-help tunes could stand to learn from. So even if I never fully lose the sense that I'm unqualified to write about pop music due to lacking the proper life experiences or neurotype, that's okay. I'll still keep repeating, ke-keep repeating that garbage anyway. [10]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox ]

#hannah diamond #music #pc music #pop music #music writing #music reviews #music criticism #the singles jukebox #Youtube

2 notes · View notes