#i feel like all of these ladies bring a particularly unique vocal something to the role that i personally enjoy

[the-cat-at-the-theatre-door]

anonymous asked: My Top Five Demeters

Brenda Braxton Ding Zhenying (aka Jenny Ding) Lena Hall (aka Celina Carvajal) Lisa Karlin Lada Kummer Runners up: Emmanuelle N'Zuzi, Amy Phillips, Gayle Holsman, Carolina Laris, & Chiara Vecchi

#CATS Musical #CATS the Musical #CATS Broadway #CATS China #CATS on Tour #(Asia Tour 2014) #(US Tour 4) #(US Tour 5) #(German Tour) #CATS Germany #(Berlin) #(Dusseldorf) #Demeter #catsedit #my posts #i prefer lada's makeup in the german tour #but there you are #lada and emmanuelle were neck in neck for a while #i feel like all of these ladies bring a particularly unique vocal something to the role that i personally enjoy

[natromanxoff]

Queen live at Brendan Byrne Arena in East Rutherford, NJ, USA - August 9, 1982

(x)

This is an eventful US Hot Space show played to an arena that is far from full. In fact, a second night in East Rutherford was originally planned for August 10, but later moved to New Haven due to the low ticket sales.

Roger's voice is uncharacteristically hoarse tonight, and he struggles on some of his backing vocals in Somebody To Love.

Towards the end of his vocal exchange with the audience after Save Me, Freddie tells them, "I'm gonna make you sing like Aretha Franklin", like he did during Now I'm Here in Milton Keynes a couple months back. But this time he doesn't succeed, as he gives up after only one line. "I knew you were from New Jersey. You had to be. I mean, I've been listening to Gilda Radner. She's right!"

Brian starts Get Down Make Love (which segues into his solo spot) with his John Birch copy. A bit over three minutes into his solo spot he breaks a string, and soon turns off the analog delays, trying to make the best of the situation for a brief while (the other five strings go out of tune when you break a string on an electric guitar with floating tremolo, so one must hold the whammy bar down in a specific place for the guitar to remain in tune - not an easy task!). But he ultimately gives up, and takes the guitar off and hurls it over his stack of Vox cabinets (the one and only time he did this), snapping it in half. Some audience members watch in bewilderment as they have witnessed the normally gentle and soft-spoken May lash out in frustration. Others cheer the 'coolness' factor. A roadie, visible to the audience, picks up a piece of the Birch guitar and holds it up for a brief moment. The beleagured axeman then switches to his Flying V, and he and Roger (barely) finish the segment, not before that guitar, too, goes out of tune.

The next song is Body Language, and the front of house tech switches on Mercury's harmonizer a verse too early, giving "you got red lips" a bit too much redness.

Brian (who hasn't spoken much on stage on this tour since Love Of My Life was his usual speaking spot) says a few words after Under Pressure. "People of New Jersey, we seem like good friends. I tell you, we've seen you a lot of times. We've been around quite a while and we've done some strange things here and there. And now and again we've done a song which actually means something, and I think this is one of them. This is a song Freddie wrote for the last album. This is called Life Is Real." Queen performed the ballad only a few times.

After the song ends, Freddie asks, "How are we doing with the guitars?" He tells the audience, "I think tonight's the night we're gonna break as many guitars as we've got. If anybody in the audience has a spare guitar, bring it over here!" Someone in the audience replies, "I've got three!" He continues, "OK, we're gonna do a song that requires everybody on their feet, because I mean, you gotta... I know you guys are very cool and laid back, this is a really dirty song. You know, it comes from here." No doubt a crude gestitulation follows. "It's from the c*nt. It's called Fat Bottomed Girls!" Brian lets out a lot of aggression in the last couple minutes of the song, even playing some heavy syncopated lines before the final few bars.

Frustration abounds in Freddie as well, as he responds to a drone he (and everyone else) is hearing. "Before this next song, we'd like... what is that fucking noise? It's been driving me crazy all fucking night. I bet it's not doing you guys any good, either."

It takes a little while for the Red Special to be restrung, so Brian plays his Flying V for a few songs, according to a fan who attended the show (although Brian stated in a January 1983 interview that he acquired the Flying V *because* of this incident - but this claim is questionable, as pictures from last week's concert in Toronto reveal his Flying V on a guitar stand side stage). These few songs sound different with this new guitar tone - particularly the Bohemian Rhapsody solo. He would return with his beloved home-made guitar for the hard rock section of Bohemian Rhapsody, but he wouldn't fully regain his composure for the rest of the evening.

In the second verse of We Are The Champions, a flippant comment from Mercury sums up the evening: "It's been no bed of roses, I can tell you!"

A fan wrote to Brian at his Soapbox about this night:

"During the show you had problems with The Old Lady and came out with the Birch copy. Then the birch copy had some problems and you threw it and your roadie missed it I think because he held up something that looked like a broken Birch Guitar. You then played a good part of the concert on a Flying V. I remember wishing I had a camera to see you playing on the V. You played Life Is Real while repairs were being done. Freddie even joked if someone had an extra guitar to please bring it up. After the break in BORHAP you came back with the Old Lady."

Brian's reply:

"You evidently saw a special night ... the only night when I ever threw a guitar off stage in despair ! And, yes, I did hit the ground behind the stage - I'm pretty sure I thought I was throwing to someone, but evidently I misjudged it. And, yes, its neck snapped clean through. I kept it for a while, intending to get it fixed. But we decided it would probably never be good at staying in tune, because it wasn't a very rigid instrument. And not being able to get it in tune was what drove me to distraction that night, and this was what led to its demise! As I remember, this was on top of having problems with the Red Special in the beginning - in the heat of the moment, this was the final straw ! I imagine your bootleg of the show will reveal the problems I was having. These things usually make me feel ashamed, frustrated, angry, in the moment... I don't like giving people less than the best. So this picture really does tell a story ... a unique story. I wonder what happened to the Flying V ... As for the Birch guitar, well, we lent it to Guild, to compare, while they were making their Red specials under license in the 80's. Then we all forgot about it for many years. Then it turned up, and thanks to a friend (I think I told the story here) it now resides back with me. We have decided to keep it as it is, in pieces, just for historical interest, for the same reasons as before."

Brian has since reunited with the guitar, apparently after it was purchased on eBay. Its story and a couple pictures of it can be seen at Brian's website. It was repaired by Andrew Guyton, although it wasn't a complete restoration as Brian wanted to see exactly where he broke it.

The photo above was taken by Gary Gershoff. Here are a few pro photos from the show:

These photos were taken after the show, at a party in New York:

(x)

Fan Stories

“Queen played a great show, but when Brian started his Brighton Rock solo, he broke a string on "The Old Lady" and you could tell he was not happy. He actually threw that guitar at the stand and it fell over and me and my fellow RS/Brian/Queen fanatic buddy looked at each other in astonishment. He quickly was given the John Birch copy by his guitar tech and continued his solo. Well about two minutes go by and you could tell he was not happy with the Birch and then a string breaks on that guitar. He was on Deacons side of the stage and he runs over to his side towards his wall of Vox amps and hurls the guitar over the stack. His guitar tech brings out the Gibson Flying V and Brian finishes the solo. At the end of the solo the tech brings back "The Old Lady" restrung as Queen kicks back in. I believe at this point Brian was doing the solo in the middle of Now I'm Here. Some time between one of the next songs the Tech emerges from behind the stack to show Brian and the entire audience the result of Brians outrage as he holds up the two pieces of The John Birch. My friend and I looked at each other and knew we had just seen a bit of Queen history. From what I remember it was a case of the neck snapping off from the body. I remember a few months ago somehow the John Birch had turned up and Brian was curious about where and when it happened.” - Todd

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

[imasimpforstevengrant]

His (Part one)

Edit by the wonderful 💕💕💕 joker_jessica295

Instagram: @joker_jessica295

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Special thanks to @neon-umbrella-for-stella (thank you so much for the ideas!) and @darkshadow90 for the tips on certain scenes 💕💕

• Author’s note¹: Another Arthur/Harley smut. Yes. It took me more than seven months to write it, based one a suggestion from a reader on a different take.

• A/N ²: 447 FOLLOWERS? WHEN tHE HELL DID I GET SO MANY?! THANK YOU SO MUCH OMG

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Summary: A piece more centered in Harleen and her feelings towards Arthur,  Flashbacks to the first meeting and kiss. More sex comes after their first night together as they open up about each other. Meanwhile, a clown has stirred Gotham City by murdering three young Wayne employees, awakening a popular fascination which not even Harleen won’t escape from. She doesn’t know this (wrongly) crowned hero is closer than she thinks.

Warnings: insecurity, self-hatred, swearing, darker Arthur ahead (possessive, lusty, crossing boundaries), age gap, strong sexual themes, sexual humor, oral sex (male receiving), fluff, breast oral stimulation, dirty talk, mild praise kink, possessive, unprotected sex.

WC: +9.946 (IT’S LONG I KNOW… I hope you don’t get bored!)

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November would mark one year since she got to Bronx Apartment after finishing her studies in Gotham’s University, obtaining a degree as a psychologist. Harleen was blessed with an exceptional intuition and a brilliant memory, this preventing her to burn her eyes away studying day and night for exams.

Once finished, she got a job as a therapist in social services. It had been hard to get but Harleen used her charm to convince the man she was ardently committed to social causes. A few smiles to the old, drooling creep during interviews and she got what she wanted. But with the unemployment rate increasing in the city, Harleen knew crisis couldn’t be avoided with a charming smile. Resenting her situation but with no other option, Harleen obtained a job as a bartender in shifts, most of them at night.

She was a frequent target of blatant ogling and indecent comments from men of all ages to which Harleen always replied with sarcasm that either scared them off or ended up with men insulting her under their breath. The first two months in the building were boring and gloomy, until she saw him.

Harleen had seen him a few times. He always seemed so mad, so drawn within himself and yet there was something oddly attractive about him. If not beautiful, it was certainly intriguing. He was the neighbor the other residents warned her about: the laughing guy from the eighth floor. Some told her he was ugly, deranged and creepy. Harleen got her first impression of him during a day off: she went for a drink when the mail boxes, surrounded by a small cage, were checked by the mysterious man.

There he was. The guy was wearing the usual yellow hoodie, navy blue pants, brown vest and a white polka-dotted shirt. Shoes were worn as much as his outfit, hair slicked back, gaze focused on the box that seemed eternally empty. She then noticed the frown that hardened his features, reinforcing the idea that he was always angry, while asking herself some questions about him. Who was he? What did he do for a living? Was he married? Did he have children? He looked old enough to have them.

What was his name?

She would have never imagined she’d figured it out months later. It was one particular night she went out to a party just to return home a little drunk. A catchy song refused to leave her mouth, while dancing in a lively way were enough to get the attention of the loner. He returned from getting his medicines. Hunched pace tracing his way back home, Arthur saw the young recently graduated young lady dancing shamelessly in the hall. She wore a short red dress and her lips shone in crimson gloss.

The image of her hair flowing, creating a blue and pink spectrum of colors turned out to be so unusual and beautiful that immediately sent involuntary visions of her in sexual situations. He hated the idea of her being out of his reach but felt a modest share of satisfaction just by seeing her. This became a common practice on his routine, with Harleen being completely unaware of it. She only saw her mysterious neighbor a few times from then, probably because he had to work. A lot, from what she could tell.

It was Thursday in the evening when she returned from the theater. Harleen was thankful she was on the taxi when the rain started. It was a small luxury she could gift herself after working so hard. She thought her day couldn’t get better when back home when she’d finally get what she wanted for so long.

Once in the elevator bag, in hand, she saw him. The door opening revealed the crestfallen individual, always withdrawn in his thoughts. That would explain why he almost jumped out in shock when he saw her, as if she was some kind of ghost. Harleen finally found the courage to grin and speak up.

“Hi”. One kind greet was enough to freeze him. At the same time, Arthur stared at her, examining the funny hairstyle that embellished her. Simple but pretty: a white sweater and jeans with short boots and a blue bag hanging from her left arm. Buns held her hair, blue the left one, pink the other one. A few platinum locks fell over her neck.

“Hi”, he finally replied. Doubt made his vocal chords tremble. His stare betrayed everything he felt for her, showing even how surprised he was for a woman like her to talk to him. He did his best to return the grin, his lips curving into a sneaky, playful one. Something inside Harleen trembled. Of all the reactions she expected, this was certainly an unexpected surprise. It was like a powerful bolt whipping her body. The odd attractiveness of her older neighbor caught her off guard. She did not expect him to actually have… charm.

There was something that tainted his unique beauty, however. She couldn’t help but stare in silent horror at the small bruise on his eye and a dry trace of blood on the bottom lip. His deep silence and mirthless look on his eyes despite the smile carved a deep wound in Harleen’s soul. He looked so destroyed and yet he managed to be polite enough to reply. She now paid attention to the adorable dimples embellishing his smile. The only thing she could do was smile back, not imagining the magnitude of the feelings she would unleash on him.

The bell rang. Harleen suddenly felt bad to leave for her flat, desiring just a few more seconds to appreciate his features. But she wasn’t willing to lose and her generosity gifted him an awkward but cute hand gesture, which Arthur took a long time to respond to. The absolute amazement in his eyes turned out to be an unexpectedly pleasant shock. That smile… so distant from the serious expression that usually carved his features, lost inside his thoughts.

Once in her flat, Harleen was incapable to stop thinking about him. And that wasn’t the only problem. Thoughts replayed the charming smile over and over again and became particularly intrusive while undressing to take a hot shower. She wanted to know more about him by being subtle, to increase the thrill this stranger had caused to her.

Probably the premise of “opposites attract” took a special meaning for the two of them, causing an authentic interest over the loner’s magnetism, not imagining how much of a surprise he’d turn out to be. What Harleen would have never thought was that the loner was also immensely interested in her…

Through fleeting glimpses of a yellow hoodie, she learned she had a secret admirer (this being a soft epithet for what it was actually an stalker).

Harleen became aware of it after noticing there was always a tall, thin man lurking in the shadows of the buildings in front of the playground she was always in during nighttime. It also happened while she was jogging or hanging on a rope to avoid any further danger lately. The latter was more interesting for him, given she could notice him better: still, predacious, not missing any second of watching her involved in such graceful moves, like floating in the air.

Harleen was sly, of course. She knew she was gorgeous. And the notion of being unreachable was highlighted by adding more sensual moves in this effective way to attract him, assuming the unpleasant cost of being constantly catcalled by other men. But of course her efforts paid off: the long expected meeting would occur on September. She actually expected another day to play innocent and let him stare at her instead of an actual interaction. A few pedestrians passed by, following a series of unpleasant whistling and blatant sexual commentaries.

But she couldn’t care less now, noticing it took him longer for him to show himself up through the dim lights in comparison to other days.

Harleen kept doing her job, however, repeating and extending the same moves to maintain her anxiety at bay. This resulted in more pirouettes so she could catch the familiar glimpse of the yellow hoodie near the darkened corner he usually stopped by to stare. The exercise turned out to be so pleasant that almost made her forget her initial goal, her focus now being to make a risky but stylish twirl.

There were no whistles or any indecent comments this time. Just a soft chuckle that evidently showed his amazement at the pirouette broke the deaf car honks, far screams from angry people that shattered the already silent place. Her swinging form immediately got down while trying not to lose the composure, calling him.

But far from what she expected, the man reacted horrified just to run away. She wasn’t going to give up, quickly jogging towards the fence that separated them.

“Hey!” she extended one hand, clawing herself with the other one. The hooded shadow stood there, panicking. He couldn’t bring himself to disappear in the dark, which made him look like a malevolent spirit.

“Come back!” she yelled, waving her hand incessantly to convince him to return, daring him to answer for such tenebrous and creepy attraction for her. It seemed her call paid off, since the man had no intentions to keep running, choosing to walk his uncertainty away through disoriented circles. He suddenly stopped walking, standing completely still now. Harleen rose an eyebrow, honestly expecting what he would do now. 

That man had issues for sure.

The idea soon morphed into a fact. Once she saw him coming closer to her to finally face her, she found herself unable to hold back a gasp to discover it was precisely her handsome but distant neighbor she had seen so many times and the reason why she had let him cross the line. She liked intense emotions, and something told her this man could give her a good thrill. The loner, for his part, turned around and almost tripped once realizing the short proximity between them.

It was certainly shocking to see an apparently cold, aloof individual who never talked with such searing lust in his eyes. Her hands now clawed at the fence, her icy blue eyes stared at him, feeling a shiver down her spine while she their glare revealed more things about him, one being his complete bewitch (or more like aroused) hearing his breath becoming more and more shortened.  But there was also a glimpse of guilt, lips twitching as if he was repressing a word or even a kiss, she’d dared to say.

The darkness highlighted the odd yet irresistible attractiveness that stole her heart, tracing a smile on her lips. He set his eyes down her body, ending the visual enjoyment focusing on the striking, extravagant mane that reached the upper part of her hips.

“You’ve been enjoying my show, have you?”, she went straight to the point.

A reply came out ringing in a remorseful, broken whisper:

“Yeah”

His name was Arthur. Harleen couldn’t be happier to finally know it, repeating it while taking her time to savor it.

Arthur Fleck.

Nothing prepared her to witness the very thing he was known for, however: the pained, cursed laugh that now resounded through the air.

At first she thought it was genuine but the horrifying shameful look warned her about his desperate attempt to stop and to breathe. The cackles were frustrating and, worse yet, exhausting to the point it made him lose balance while trying his best to look for something inside his pocket. She climbed up the fence to finally make direct contact with him. That seemed to shock him enough to distract his features in a more skeptical expression at the first time someone showing him kindness rather than giving him the usual disgusted stare.

A plastic, worn out card explaining his condition came from his pocket. The fit diminished to painful hiccups to tired sobs, relieved by a few reassuring words to make the stranger stay. It followed with a small talk about Thomas Wayne, unemployment in Gotham City and revealing each other’s “do for a living” but the topic of conversation seemed off. She could tell Arthur wasn’t used to social interaction, noticing how much it took him to find a tone and words to reply coherently. He never lost a sight of her, never taking his gaze off her as she spoke. The blonde felt actual amazement on the intense lust she had awakened on him, motivating her to test him, to see what things he would do to her in a more intimate place.

They arrived to the building. Harleen led her guest to her humble flat. Arthur was fascinated by the pink neon lights that banished the darkness to plunge his senses in a pleasurable, dreamlike numbness. They continued talking. Her flirty attitude and smiles made Arthur feel he was living the best night of his life. The loner was too lost in her bicoloured mane. A small smirk traced his lips, forming those dimples she secretly admired so much.

“It looks like cotton candy”, his mutter rang through her mind, resounding like a small demeanor confessed with relief. The sweet compliment was rewarded, subsequently, with a short, noisy kiss on his forehead. The action quickly makes him recoil for a few seconds, as her memory remembered, just to feel confident enough now to unleash a furious, hungry kiss on her lips. This violent outburst of passion had her lips against his dry, cracked lips, shocking her at first to eventually surrender and responding to the kiss. His inexperience was clear from the beginning but she had more of a convincing proof that the vehemence of the touch starved was, sometimes, more arousing than the dexterity of an experienced lover.

The sound of their lips breaking the caress made the sexual tension even more unbearable. He apologized; covering his mouth like punishing himself for behaving like a deranged creep but Harleen was just too impressed and lost after the spontaneous gesture, praising him for his passion instead of screaming at him. She had already accepted she’d never yearn for another lips except his.

It wasn’t easy for him, however. His rigid posture put in evidence his shame at the (obvious) first intimate contact he held with an actual person. With her head tilting tenderly, Harleen put a rebel curl behind his ear. He shrugged, stepping back, maybe processing the word she chose to describe him. As if that wasn’t enough, Arthur was too self-absorbed in his visible fascination over her chest. There was more than mere lust in his gaze over his disturbing fixation on her bosom, a far cry for the abandonment and yearning for intimacy but being too afraid to show it. Harleen fought the persistent (and reckless, utterly reckless, she had to recognize) urge to grab his hand and let them knead her soft forms, getting him to know her more personally.

Instead, Harleen took his hands on hers, caressing them tenderly. A defeated sigh, at last, made him regain composure. His whisper sounded broken but clear, much to her joy.

“Can you please...?” Arthur wasn’t able to even to complete the plea as the blonde closed her eyes slowly as her face broke distance with his to once again experiment the clouding, soaring euphoria their careless closeness brought with it. The party clown had a hard time processing the warm and maddening sensation of her lips on his, convincing himself that this was no hallucination. They took their time, finding the perfect angle to get a better caress from each other: Harleen had the initiative throwing her arms to his neck, causing the loner to respond by locking his arms around her waist.

Intimacy became too overwhelming when her tongue tried to play with his. The lovers laughed the nervousness off as the kiss finished momentarily to recover from the numbness. But he went back to devouring her to memorize every little sensation, growing more and more confident, tilting his head now to obtain a better taste of her mouth. It proved to be too much for him, however. She sadly felt him distancing from the embrace, most probably because his old fashioned ways deemed improper to sleep with a woman he just had met.

She felt so many things that fateful night misting her senses to verbalize her thoughts. But one thing was for sure:

She would burn Gotham to see him smile. 

*-*-*

It was 09:33 am according to the green bluish digits on the old clock, light drizzle falling over Gotham City. A disheveled, yawing Harleen woke up by herself. Laziness held her muscles still until her stomach made clear that breakfast was a must.

She put on black shorts and a grey, long sleeved-shirt, combing her hair to then make a couple pretty braids that fell over her torso. The combination of pink and electric blue was pleasant to the sight, as the mirror revealed. Soon after the observation, she contemplated the empty space left by her lover: Arthur Fleck. She closed her eyes.

That name sounded (or more like tasted) so different now. The memory of this lonely, sad man turned into a sex crazed lunatic still shocked her, as her facial expressions brought out. The fierce passion he had just loved her with turned out to be hard to be believed considering how deprived he was of human contact.

It wasn't just the thrill of surprise but the tenderness of his vulnerability, an aspect whose contrast between despite looking twice as older than her and being a late bloomer just highlighted their affair: Arthur was so different in intimacy, letting go of that repression that harmed his soul since he understood his needs as a man. She smiled, still thinking about what they had done. The thought led her to look for him while her vision became sharper, slowly overcoming the persistent need to go back to sleep.

When she stepped outside her room, a chuckle reverberated through the air, making her come to her senses. Eyes blinking, a pleasant feel of lightheadedness befogging her mind as the silence was broken by a familiar voice.

“Knock, knock”. Harleen was still too sleepy to catch a clear glimpse of the loner behind her who, in turn, locked her form as if she was a prey.

"Huh?" she hummed, confused. But there was no verbal response from him. Arthur reacted kissing her neck with ferocious passion, holding her figure possessively, absorbing her scent. The blonde made an instinctive futile attempt to free herself to recover from the scare the sudden grasp had caused on her. A breathy whisper in her ear dissuaded any intention to undo the embrace.

“You’re supposed to ask who's there”

Harleen turned around, her long blond hair tickling his face. He wasn't gone but by God, she was thankful for that. Arthur undid the hug, directing his hands to her face to press kisses on it repeatedly.

"Mr. Fleck--" the blonde murmured, "I thought you were back on the business making people smile". Arthur smirked. A high pitched giggle left his mouth. He now directed his fingers to feel those attention drawn to her gorgeous, full pink lips.

"I am right now" the loner leaned his forehead against hers. Now that her vision was slightly clearer, she noticed Arthur had left her flat for a moment, given he was wearing a red sweater he didn't bring before. The loner then proceeded to take a black wand off his sleeve, offering it to her. Harleen giggled and took it, deciding to play his game. The object lost its rigid shape, causing Arthur to laugh at her disappointed reaction. He demonstrated his aptitudes as a party clown taking back the wand just for it to regain rigidity once on his hand. He whistled, adding a funny sound as he shook it against his other hand, checking its stiffness.

"What are you doing?" Harleen seemed completely taken by the action, her smile encouraging him to finally offer her the aforementioned wand as a bunch of flowers while humming a song. A tender, excited scream made him chuckle as her hands stopped shaking to hold carefully the gift. It had plenty of feathers of different colors but she loved the simplicity of it.

"Thank you" she placed them in the table, along a small pot of flowers.

Harleen stared at him, tenderly. All Arthur could do was smile, holding her hands briefly on his to then slide one up her arm to reach her face. She suppressed a gasp, which seemed to change the course of the original touch in thought, as his hand recoiled for a moment to return with more intensity to her face.

"We had one hell of a good fuck, Mr. Fleck" Harleen whispered, intertwining her fingers with his. Arthur burst out laughing as her swearing manners still made a great impact against his older ways. But he liked her honesty, nonetheless.

"I think we woke up the whole building" Harleen laughed.

“I don’t see the problem with that”.

“I never said it was“, Arthur replied, cocky. A deep intake of breath then happened, “You know I—“he stammered, nervous. With a cute giggle, the blonde slid down her hands through the soft fabric of his half buttoned shirt that left a glimpse of his chest, invigorating him to keep on. Arthur stared at her, not a word from his mouth, enticingly.

“I-- was just wondering-- what else we can do", he kept on after seconds passed by, trying to catch her mouth with his, nuzzling her face, “’because-- I told my mother I had a call—“, he continued, “from work… so I'd stay away from my apartment for a while. I need some—“he took another deep breath, trying to find the courage to look at her in the eye to pronounce his intentions.

“I need some space, Harleen…” Arthur stared up and down at her figure, hands sliding up the collarbone to rub her shoulders, persuading her to be an accomplice of this reprehensible deed, "but not alone”. The words, though flawed in pronunciation, were perfect to keep her gaze lost as if Arthur had cast a spell on her.

“I plan to have you all for myself today and I'm--" he closed his eyes, hiding his face in her neck, sniffing her hair while trying to voice his intentions despite the nervousness that made him stammer, "I'm eager to know you more personally".

Harleen was actually shocked with what she just heard. A mixture of utter tenderness and searing lust made her blood boil. Did he lie to his own mom to spend more time with her?

"Well with the riots out there, bar is closed for a couple of days so consider it your lucky day” her voice chirped in joy. His eyes shone with modest but genuine happiness at the good news. Then he smiled, flaunting those crooked teeth Harleen loved so much.

The blonde felt she was about to kneel and unzip his pants to give him the reward he deserved for such gesture when her stomach claimed for some food, impeding the spontaneous sexual fantasy to become real, earning a disapproving look on his face. It took them time to regain calmness, as their laborious breaths tried to cool down the fire inside them.

“Why are you doing that?” his tone of voice revealed impatience, leading her to express the idea to have some good meal before any intimacy could take place, causing his displeased expression to turn into a wide smirk.

“Great!” Arthur chuckled, granting her some personal space.

They made their way to the kitchen. Arthur took a sit while waiting, taking a cigarette to light it. Harleen quickly prepared the table, taking the electric kettle to fill it with water to pour it on the coffee machine, putting bread on the toaster and turning the radio on in hopes to increase the domestic bliss. The smoke filled the room but she couldn't care less. The news announced a cold, rainy week while announcing a new episode of the Murray Franklin’s show presenting a famous actor as a guest next week given the release of the film he recently starred in the next week. The announcement ended with a shortened version of the groovy organ of Frank Sinatra’s anthem “That’s Life” which Arthur hummed along. But as soon as the theme song ended on a fade out, he silenced himself to hear, much to his annoyance according to the tired, throaty groan that followed the happy hum, a reporter pronouncing the news related to the continuation of the garbage strike.

Both stood completely silent as the report that exposed most of Gotham's slums to insalubrities. The fear of the possibility to catch a severe disease was reinforced by the citizens who claimed to have seen the rat population increase. The piece of news changed to the Mayoral election, which seemed difficult given the riots and general dissatisfaction of Gotham citizens with unemployment rate and apparent authority's indifference in the matter. The note ended with Thomas Wayne promising order and prosperity if elected. More announcements followed, but the lovers didn’t pay any attention to it. His great displeasure caused Harleen to turn off the device.

"I just can't understand how my mother thinks he's gonna help us" his hand took the cigarette back to his mouth, adding that just because she worked for him more than thirty years ago did not mean he had the obligation to run in aid for her. Arthur rolled his eyes, making clear his profound dislike for people like him and the insufferable infatuation Penny felt for him.  

“I’ve told her so many times she doesn’t have to worry about money. Everyone is telling me my stand ups are ready to make it on the big clubs”.

Harleen nodded, enthusiastic at the possibility of Arthur getting a name for himself in the stage.

“I’m not the man of the house for nothing”.

Harleen took the toasted bread and coffee kettle to the table.

“Man of the house, huh?”

“Yes, since I can remember. But even I need a break” he took another long drag, his lost look causing a deep sorrow on Harleen.

She lamented the prolonged solitude that caused him to pronounce such wounded words, hoping (maybe in an unconscious way to cope with stress) to get out the pain it caused him. The blonde extended her hand towards his, in a sweet attempt to cure or, at least, relieve his pain.

His absent gaze combined with the smile caused Harleen to feel a shiver down her spine. She laughed nervously to later pour the coffee in his mug to fill her own later. He didn’t laugh, staring at her and rubbing his forehead with his thumb. This dark glint promised her so many things, and few of them were good. He wasn’t afraid anymore to hide his intentions from her, seeing the affection was mutual. She could also see a spark of pride, engulfing his mind in another deep state of absent thoughtfulness. He pronounced no words, looking now at the recently poured coffee, whose steam slowly diminished to long twirls to nearly invisible white lines. She slowly and carefully extended her hand to his arm to convince him to leave the cigarette aside just to grab the large plate full of breads.

“Aren’t you a cute, little pleaser?”

The tender name immediately washed the worry away from her face while a reddish hue colored her cheeks. Arthur finally gave it a bite, cigarette finally left on the ashtray. The crunchy sound gave Harleen almost a cathartic relief. Whenever the chance to nurture him showed up she didn’t think twice to do it. He left the half eaten piece of bread aside to divert his attention to her.

“You wanna hear a joke?” the playful tone of voice and mischievous smirk made his face adopt such a devilishly appeal Harleen was unable to resist.

“Yes!” she said it as if that could convince him to have one more toast. 

“Why are poor people so confused?” his grin drew those adorable dimples in his face again.

“I don’t know” a frisky look gleamed in her eyes. 

“Because they don’t have any cents” he answered, before his voice exploded in a loud cackle. Harleen laughed at the simplicity of it. He was actually a funny guy, if only life could have been more generous to him. Bless his soul for making people laugh in such hard times.

Harleen was too lost in his joyful expression beyond if the joke was funny or not. His green eyes shone with a special light in the rare moments he could be in tune with his surroundings. It was as magical as seeing a shooting star. How she wished to take away the pain from him just to see his beautiful smile more often.

Throwing a smoking puff to the air, Arthur leaned in as if to tell her a secret.

“This is the first time someone is so nice to me", the loner confessed, shaking his head. He looked so lost, eyes following the smoke elevating in a single line undone by the move to breathe in the last remains of the cigarette. His personal battle against his warped perception of reality still gnawed his trust on her. A tender pout formed in her lips.

“You’re the first person who doesn’t feel uncomfortable around me” he muttered.

Her thoughts drifted to a greater, sadder horror: to make a difference in such a dark, mirthless man’s life just for being kind barely managed to even imagine the inhuman hardships he had been through during all his life. She lowered her head, trying to resist the actual pain in her chest. How a sentence that was so heartbreaking could also be so beautiful?

“I’m sorry, Arthur”. Her eyebrows arch in a sad expression that seemed to make him reconnect with reality.

“For what?” he frowned, confused. She tightened her eyelids, trying not to embarrass herself in front of him with such an explosive display of emotions, silencing her sobs the best way she could allow herself.  

“Everything” Harleen finished. His instinct ordered him to show distrust, unconsciously trying to find any trace of lies. Nobody ever had apologized or even shed a tear for him. As he realized her care was genuine, his mind replayed the phrase over and over again while trying to process these intense, new feelings blooming in his heart over the typical, negative thoughts ghosting around his mind.

“Oh, no.  No, no, no, no, no. Don’t do that” Arthur reacted panicked, “please…” his fingers dried the watery creeks, “don’t make that face to me. I’m here to put a smile on your face”.

He inhaled deeply, before continuing:

“You know… a famous comedian used to say… uh –“ his troubled mind tried to remember the name but then opted to articulate a coherent word to elude anything that could ridicule him –‘a day without a smile is a wasted day’.

A soft hum left her mouth, though a far shadow of sadness still haunted the tender quote.

“You know what I like about you, Arthur?”

“Yeah?” he was genuinely intrigued to know.

“You could even put the fun in a funeral”

His wide and evil grin, made her put a loose lock of hair behind her ear as a result of an involuntary move to cope with the nervousness.

“Fun in a funeral?” he repeated, a loud and moved hum sounding like a purr, staring at her while a chuckle shook his shoulders, “How sweet”.

How didn’t he realize how attractive he actually was? She asked herself surprised.

“Come here” Arthur patted his thigh loud enough for her to listen to it for her to reply. After drying the creeks coming from her reddened eyes, Harleen calmly got up from the chair. Arthur took distance from the table to allow her a comfortable sit. His fingers held her cheeks to create a smile despite her watery eyes.

Harleen blinked, and a tear escaped. Arthur brushed it away once it ran over her face. He thought she looked pretty when she cried, though. She gave him a sad smile and soon found solace in his face, ruffling the fluffy hair to distract her mind from any unhappy thought. Arthur closed his eyes, slowly caressing her thighs in sensual payback for her little attentions.

Once their foreheads found each    other, the blonde muttered:

“How’s that feel?”

“Feels… good” he hummed against her mouth. His lungs inhaled deep before adding:

“I thought I felt better when I was locked in the hospital”.

Harleen widened her eyes in surprise, taking a short distance from him, not knowing if it was another self deprecating joke or the truth, given the defeated tone the sentence was pronounced in.

“What?” but a castdown look was all she needed to figure out the sadness such place caused on him. It wasn’t a secret Arkham was a human dump, considering it held Gotham’s most demented and dangerous criminals and unfortunate souls who couldn’t go anywhere else. Harleen’s eyes widen in a horrified expression.

“Arthur” her hand caressed his cheek, worried about the lightness he seemed to take his life, she tenderly tilted her head, “why were you locked up in that place?”

His tone of voice revealed his annoyance mentioning that place. He shamelessly nuzzled her right breast, trying to avoid the subject:

“Who knows, maybe I lost it or tried to kill myself...I just didn't want to feel so bad”. Arthur gazed up to her. He had never been more honest in his life.

Her horrified reaction to be told being locked up, bashing his head against the wall almost everyday just reminded him how much worse was to have a significant other who made him feel alone. Months surrounded by people in white outfits, convincing him to take the pills to make him, at least, presentable to the world and also deprived of any loving contact from Penny’s part under the excuse of fright caused by doctor or anything related to hospitals. It reminded him how pathetic his life was. Sometimes he forgot how much forgiving he was with his mother’s recklessness concerning his own wellbeing.  

Her kiss on his forehead, however, seemed to bring him back to reality. Arthur felt he had awakened of a bad dream, but found himself amazed as he noticed he wasn’t alone with a blanket on while an alarm buzzed, as it was his usual routine. The loner stared at her as if he was seeing her for the first time. Her blue eyes, dilated pupils, body full given in to him. The loner blinked, eyes half closed, fighting the dissociation.

“Arthur” she called him. He looked dizzy. The blonde felt a pulsing heat making a place between her legs when the loner held her waist to lift her figure in order for it to adopt a riding position. She gasped, clawing to his shoulder once her figure obtains the desired position.

“What is it?” she whispered. But there was nothing except for a dead silence. Maybe it was another relapse of a dissociative episode, which made his mind to distract so any negative thought would fade. He panted, hiding his face against the silky platinum braid falling over her breast. The blonde didn’t move an inch, anxiously expecting to know what he would do now. He was so hard to read most of the times, leaving so many doubts and thoughts capable to drift anyone off sanity. Maybe he just didn’t want to talk. Maybe he just wanted to bond through touches.

Harleen felt a shiver once his mouth kissed the covered breast, playfully nuzzling with the erect nipple highlighted by the thin fabric. Blood boiled, as if her body demanded immediately to respond to such attentions.

She could tell Arthur was immensely pleased at her receptiveness concerning sex. His breath shortened, fighting the lightheadedness their suggestive position caused on him, loving how her body rode his hips, like a thrilling prelude before any intimate encounter could take place.

An impish, seductive smile must have given him the hint to keep on but he was way too shocked at first to react immediately. Harleen tugged on the shirt for it to loosen enough in order to offer him a privileged view of her bare breast, awaiting his mouth to finish what it just started, setting aside a few obstructing locks. Arthur’s jaw dropped, a line traced by pleasure soon contorted his lips. She hummed softly, admiring the sight of the loner hungrily lapping his tongue over the pink areola.

“You’re such a surprise for a late bloomer” the blonde leaves a beautiful, mischievous expression take over her face. Arthur detached his lips from her to ask:

“You calling me ‘old’, Harleen?”

“No!” she rushed to explain herself. The sassy tone of the question eased down any thought of annoyance, “I just—”

“I may look old, but I’m a fast learner” he cut her off, mouth back on the sensitive part. Harleen threw her head back, not showing any sign of opposition while Arthur clumsily undid the garment to leave her topless. This only ignited the fire inside of him, hanging on to her waist to sink his head between her breasts, rejoicing in the softness of her skin as his arms imprison her body. The elation wasn’t strong enough yet to stun her muscles entirely, gaining a little strength to make paused (or more like patient) undulatory moves against his body. His eyelashes flutter, causing tickles up her chest.

"I want you to put more than just a smile on my face" she caught his bottom lip to devour his mouth hungrily. He consented the kiss but didn’t respond to it, not even bothering to close his eyes.

"And what would that be, Harleen?" he looked genuinely puzzled, intense hue of green piercing her soul. She combed his hair back, sliding her hands down to hold his face in them. Arthur felt like a youngling in love for the first time. And having her covered intimacy grinding the growing bulge swept away all rational thoughts, making him listen to his needs as a man for the first time without overthinking ruining it.

Harleen supported on his shoulders, intensifying the sinful friction. Arthur groaned, relaxing when she generously offered his body another warm rub that was close to send him to heaven. On his face a deep feel of pride and complacency traces his lines given the arousing effects he had on her. Shuddered and impressed gasps left their mouths, until her voice sounds again:

“You’re so hard. That’s a very good thing” a secretive whisper kept him enchanted, her flirtatious glare invites him to get up. Arthur frowned but let himself guide by her when the steps were directed towards the wall, where Harleen didn't hesitate to corner him with famished kisses, feeling his chest underneath the red shirt.

The blonde slowly undid his shirt to obtain a proper look of his upper body to worship with her mouth, starting with the neck, nuzzling a few curls out of the way to brush her lips against the curve lining down his collarbone.

His whole form shrugged, writhing and panting. The dubious nature of this situation  slowly dissipated to allow him to enjoy the treatment her mouth gifted now to the notorious prominence coming from his neck, not missing any inch of skin with her lips.

It didn’t take long for his pants to turn into needy groans as soon as his chest was blessed with kisses, then his abdomen, the blonde was careful to not overwhelm him, holding on a few seconds before continuing to reach her goal: Mouth waters at the sight of his the rigid manhood covered by his pants, giving it a tiny nibble.

The mood was immediately killed when Arthur jolted in shock when he finally realized what she was going to do.

The irruption visibly took her by surprise, facial expressions changing from excitement to disappointment.

“Did I…?” she stammered, shrugging in fear, “did I do something wrong?”

He sighed, sliding his hand on his hair in a nervous reflex. Harleen then remembered this was new for him, despite how much enthusiastic he was. How much violence had he faced during all his life, she would never know.

Arthur cleared his throat, inhaling deeply, still processing all those hands on his body with the sole purpose to pleasure him.

“No, no”, he rushed. His voice quavers, afraid a laughing fit could ruin a intimate moment he had longed for so much with a girl, trying to put his mind in order, “This is the first time someone does this to me... and that feels like a good thing to begin…”

A bright smile returned to her face when one hand held up her chin while the other one caressed her cheek in a tender approval of what she was going to perform on him.

“You want this…” she seductively stared up to him, while her hands unbuttoned his pants, obtaining what she just craved: the underwear contains the hardened member, which she frees with a quick fumble on the clothing.

Arthur stared at his private spectacle in hypnotized ecstasy, still trembling.

“Yes…” he hissed, “oh yes, I do”.

Harleen took a few seconds to admire the twitching, aching arousal held in her hand. She smiled as her eyes were up to look at him.

“Then feed me some candy, Arthur Fleck..." his jaw dropped, felt his legs tremble, lust slowly dissipating any other thought. Being addressed by his full name, certainly had an impact on him. The enticing image of a partially undressed Harleen between his legs surely made him forgot how vulnerable he was before her by exposing his almost completely bare body.

However there was not verbal response from Harleen’s part. Her firm hand caressed his erected intimacy for a delightful prolusion, keeping her lover completely in a trance, causing his nervous hands to grab in a contained, almost angry fistful of hair. Nothing prepared him for the next.

Her tongue, of course, did its wonders. First a few, paused licks to the tip while giving him sensual, playful looks to then leave wet traces down that soon derived to long, hungrier licks sent the loner in a desperate, ecstatic state.

“Godfuckingdamni--!” was all he could be capable of articulate, before any feeble attempt to form a word distorted into desirous gasps and screams, Harleen rejoices at his reactions. To be the first woman to see him free from inhibitions, given in to his instincts, shaking away his polite, silent manners felt like a privilege.

“Keep doing that” his demand was desperate, dealing with it by uncoiling a few locks.  A wide smirk approved her tongue to explore and taste more of him, feasting now on the tip to absorb it, so he could become more familiar with her mouth. The explicit image gave him the confidence to stop repressing his desires for the sake of decency.

Her greed to have a different taste of him made her take turns between moistening the full erect manhood to partially engulf it later.

He now couldn’t even stand still, writhing like a dying animal, incapable now to look at her in the eye, believing the mere sight would make him unleash his climax, hands held on to his thighs, climbing up to his hips, looking to elicit more sounds out of his throat.

His chest heavily went up and down while Harleen kept on her voluptuous routine: first oiling him with her tongue to then make the tip disappear in her mouth.

His closed eyes, completely given in with an overjoyed expression on his face moved her to cause a greater gratification on him. She waited for the right moment to make Arthur look at her so he could cherish what she had in store for him. For a more dramatic reaction, she choose to disconnect her mouth from him, the sound of her lips detaching from the tip had him about to pass out.

“You’ll love this” were the only words she said. No further explanations. Her tongue gifted him another paused, devoted lick. It worked to make the full intake more enjoyable for him. Arthur’s body rears up violently. Raspy, loud groans and moans elicited by the tease tore the air.

Harleen placed her hands on his hips, helping herself to feel more of him between her lips, staring up to him as she received his swollen, overstimulated masculinity.

Arthur gathered enough oxygen to talk to her.

“Harleen—“ his eyes widened in awe, focusing on not passing out. His chest shook violently still recovering from the initial shock, “you nev-- you never cease to amaze me”.

She let a sweetly sinful smile trace around him, bobbing her head in a faster pace, muffled moans struggling to come out as she savored the stiffened sex with voracious appetite.

“That’s it… that’s better” he hissed, lip twitching, completely bewitched by the scene, “you’re such a good fucking girl for me”.

A happy hum vibrated through his skin.

“Am I, mister Fleck?” her squeaky voice in false innocence  crowned an scene so obscenely explicit with a comic touch.

"Yeah… Like that... Just--" he gently slammed his back against the wall. Further vocal expressions of elation came from his mouth, trying to appease the urge to scream his lungs out for whole fucking Gotham to hear him. A shiver ran down his spine. It was so difficult to keep eyes open in that  moment but the need to set his sight on her triumphed over any sense of exhaustion. His worn out hand slid down to hold her nape to obey the instinct to thrust into her mouth, just to better cope with the wet, narrow warmth Harleen welcomed his manliness with.

The blonde placed her hands over his hips, executing a very subtle move to contribute to deepen the intrusion that maddened Arthur so much. The slowness of this action made her push him away to then bring him back into her over and over again, gradually increasing the rhythm that turned the party clown into a noisy, urging mess. The rapturing and breathtaking routine of her mouth colliding with his unrelenting length sparked a merciless shiver that weakened his thighs, a stunning reminder of the glorious pinnacle he was about to reach.

“Stop”, his tortured plea was unexpected.

The mesmerizing image of a joyful Harleen with him appearing and disappearing from her lips right below him at incessant speed was more than he could take without going insane. The situation was getting out of his hands when Harleen also gave it firm caresses and long, rushed licks.

“Please”, he whined, voice too weak, covering his mouth in order to quieten the moans, “oh, God--Stop!”

His command finally made Harleen react, seeing it was actually too much. It took him a moment to catch his breath and recover his strength to pronounce about his intentions.

“Arthur? Is everything okay?” she muttered.

“Take that off” his instincts took over his mind, leaning to get her up and direct his hands towards her shorts, lowering them. She doesn’t oppose, unable to respond verbally, having the feeling the behest was actually told to himself. It didn’t matter anymore. She smiled as she saw the impatient hands lining her curves, fingers clutching at the cloth to whisper, “I like it how it looks but I want it off”.

Harleen eyes the action in fervid silence while he couldn’t stop staring down at her fascinating nudity, directing one hand in a sinuous move to part her intimacy to delicately rummage the silky smooth folds he wanted so much to be wrapped around.

Harleen jolted, lolling her head back,  amazed vocal expression resounded in his ears. Her eyes gleamed with resolution about his intentions, and a shivering gasp follows the brash action. A vocal expression of mischievous complicity comes from her.

“I see… you want to fill up the tank?” she chirped with a frisky giggle.

Arthur nodded in impatient muteness, while crashing his lips on hers in such a reckless way their feet ended up nearly tripping on the way to the couch. At the same time, he got rid of his underwear, undoing her braids, bicolored mane perfectly lining her curves now.

A firm push to throw her to the couch was just the beginning. She almost landed completely on her back, if it weren’t for her arms avoiding it.

“Easy, clown man!” her expression turned out to be so funny for the loner to let a cackle loose. From her angle, Arthur looked so frighteningly dominant. It embellished his figure like a statue, his disheveled hair highlighting the hungry and desperate expression which his carnal urges claim to be sated.

The magnificent preface maintains him from a considerable distance from her, surrounding the blonde like a prey, unable to decide what to do to her first. 

Harleen makes the first move. to fulfill her purpose, she held her legs with a provocative glare, limbs hardly exposed her undressed figure to him. The wavy moves made Arthur crawl his way to her like a starving beast.

Her receptive reaction to the kiss motivated his hands to roam over her thighs, directing them up to the knee to untangle her legs, eventually.

A devilish smile approves the suggestive image of her  pressing now his waist, sensing they were so close yet so far of each other. He devoured her mouth avidly at the same time his sense of newfound dominance urged him to place himself above her.

Harleen slid her hands up his battered back, breaking the kiss to hold and scratch his scalp to mumble:

“I want you deep inside me”.

Arthur hid his face on her neck, wallowing in the gentleness of her touches. She clings to his arms, abandoning all defenses, letting him know she was totally his to possess.

His biceps accentuate by supporting himself. Long, brow curls fell over the curve of his neck, eyes on her when his hips moved even closer to her. Harleen diverted her attention to it, but she immediately crumpled her lungs for air as Arthur teased the burning folds with the tip, becoming familiar with the part he was going to invade soon.

“More… more, oh, please” her lewd smile, cute little hums and whines mixed with his own shortened breath and surprised but satisfied groans made them forget about the world for a short while. Arthur constantly rubbed his manhood against her moistened entrance, exulting at the furious grunts the sweet torture elicited.

In exchange, she pressed her legs as a slight punishment for such daring move. But she was loving every second of it. Her eyes appreciated the paused caress between their bodies.

Seconds passed when his prolonged absence began to cause her actual pain, wrapping her legs around his hips. He let his hands fell beside her head, to plant a last kiss before proceeding.

"Knock knock" he muttered against her lips.

"Who's there?" She replied with anxious anticipation.

"It’s the mailman, miss. I’ve got an special delivery. It can hardly wait for you to see it"

She widened her eyes in surprise before his boldness to even joke in a moment too intimate as this but ended up exploding in loud cackles that left her breathless. Her reaction caused an expression of fascinated disbelief to take over his face. Both laughed it off shortly to resume were they left off.

His stare, predacious and craving, petrified Harleen.

Once his bare sex perfectly fit her hot, silky intimacy, Harleen  threw her head on the pink velvety pillow, dramatically panting as her body focuses on adhering to this desired invader. His name leaves her mouth as a desperate prayer, as if he was her only saviour, much to his delight.   

"You like that, don't you?" he hissed while giving her body another brutal thrust so she could feel him inside her as intensely as possible.

“Yes!” Harleen replied, not giving a fuck if it sounded indecent, “Arthur, I want all of it, please! Please!”

“All of it?” he smirked, reinforcing his invasion, obtaining louder screams from Harleen, doing her best to deal with the urging length in, searing walls flexing around him.

“Allofit…” but it was unintelligible for him. Arthur was too busy indulging in a deeper intrusion, eyes closed for a better focus. His thrusts were taken over by an animalistic despair, not hesitating to harden the pace even more as the eventual natural need for release set aside any sense of self control.

Nothing could take the wide smile off her.

“You are so good at this, mister Fleck…” the playful praise sounded more like a helpless little whimper, arousing Arthur in ways he would have never imagined. It lead him to lean into her, but she quickly took advantage of it by captivating his form, legs pressing his hips to deepen the intrusion even more.

Arthur threw his head back, stopping for a moment to process the pleasure the abrupt move had caused on him. Harleen contemplated in silent joy how his arms had taken a more muscular shape, gifting him an evil, yet charming smile when she held his face with both hands to pepper it with kisses, holding to his back as if her life depends on it, body ready and eager to obtain more of him.

He slowly made his way out of her just to violently slam back in, causing soft sobs that ended in more desperate praises, which played an important part during the act.

“Keep fucking me like that… I beg you” he closed his eyes, ecstatic, lips parted.

“I will” he gasped.

As soon as she moans his name, Arthur sensed his last sense of self control disappear. He could feel her nails in the skin of his back, which doubled the joy of another brutal thrust into her, exhausted groans leaving his throat. Harleen squirmed while dealing with the intense pleasure his unmerciful pace caused on her.

“Arthurarthurarthurarthurarthur” the blonde called him before losing her own sense of reality, the last coherent word before a lovely, mellifluous mixture of moans, groans, grunts and sobs seized her lips.

Him.

It was all about him, she realized. She swore everything had lost into oblivion. There was nothing except the throbbing welcome her tight walls granted to his twitching gristle.

In that moment she finally comprehended his impact on her life, remembering all the good moments they had shared, everything that led them to this moment, so close to end the act with thunderous moans.

She wasn’t afraid to accept this man had become her entire life since she had lied eyes on him, the first and last person she thought about every time she woke up and certainly the reason why sudden smiles traced her lips during work.  

However, her body warned them about the proximity of the peak when the pulsing grip around him intensified, interrupting the happy daydreaming about him, returning her to the raw reality she was protagonist of.   

The gorgeous moaning mess he had done from her had encouraged the loner to fasten the rhythm, loving to bring her to the brink, frantic spasms whipping his nerves while her moans echoed louder and louder. Her features showed an agonizing expression, lips partly open but unable to utter anything, mind fogged by lightheadedness.

“Arthur, I can’t— I—” the violent, feverish orgasm caught her unprepared: a blaring, euphoric cry served as the glorious conclusion of their union.

Arthur found the strength to distance himself from her, far too weak to resist the temptation to earn a good vision of her naked body in that moment. Harleen was still numb, hair covering her face like a curtain, blue strands all over her chest, contrasting with her pale skin. He followed the long mane down, eyeing her quivering figure, so full of him. He stopped to stare at their sexes still caught in a sore and reddened embrace.

The loner eventually surrendered with a powerful groan, exploding inside of her. He exhaled in stunned relief and sexual bliss. His eyes behold such beauty so full of him, retaining him even when her moans indicate that it was too much for her to bear. This let an even wilder side of him to appear when pushing slightly deeper, thinking it would go unnoticed, but she was too immersed in her thoughts about the man who lied over her. The stillness helped her to put her mind in order, dimensioning this feelings blooming in her heart.

It was hard to stare at each other at this point, but she slowly turned her head to see him despite the blue mane hinders a proper sight of him. Sunlight shone brightly on his face, curls tousled, from what she could see. It was like a little light of happiness shining at last. For the others, he was a deranged creep, but in that moment, Harleen felt he was the most beautiful man she had ever met in her life.

The blurred image eventually became sharper when his face came closer to hers, oozing his seed inside Harleen through his spurred flesh. It felt like hours passed by.

Small beads of sweat formed on his forehead, his open mouthed  expression was of pure astonishment and fascination. The slender fingers set aside her hair, touching her lips, probably to kiss her again.

But nothing happened. Instead, Arthur decided to break the contact, paying attention to the zone in question.

With slow vehemence, he was finally gone.

The action left a thin, niveous line dripping from the tip, leaking from her in small creeks in a beautiful way their bodies demanded to reconnect each other.

“Fuck” he muttered, grinning. Despite the exhaustion, Harleen mimicked it. They couldn’t say anything else, for words were unnecessary. He wouldn’t know it, but Harleen had already accepted a great truth about him.

She was madly in love with Arthur Fleck. _______________________________________

Weeks passed. It was raining in a cold Thursday on Gotham City when Harleen returned home from work. The garbage strike was worsening, rioters looting any store they could and the mayoral candidate being the focus of criticism and repudiation of people. The reason behind it? She would find it out soon.

A taxi honking distracted from her quest for an answer but that didn’t stop her for too long. She heard people talking about nowadays and what Thomas Wayne had said about people in Gotham after something horrible had happened in the filthy subway. The macabre part awakened her curiosity. Was there something she didn’t know about? She looked for a kiosk at the end of the every block to see if there were papers about the aforementioned topic.

It was near a telephone cabin when Harleen finally found what she was looking for… but she didn’t know where to start. Just a headline in bold was enough to freeze her:

KILLER CLOWN ON THE LOOSE

LATEST NEWS ON THE MURDERS

#joker 2019 #joker film #arthur fleck #joaquin phoenix joker #joker movie #joaquin phoenix #2019 joker #joker arthur fleck #dc comics #arthur fleck smut #arthur fleck x reader #arthur x reader #dcedit #arthur fleck x harleen quinzel #arthur x harley #jarley #harley quinn smut #margot robbie harley quinn #joker smut #clown daddy #clown prince of crime #joker 2019 smut

[borisbubbles]

ESC2021 Preshow: 20. Estonia

Uku Suviste - “The lucky one”

Semi 2, #02

Going through the motions of 2021′s shitty NF season, it was a given that the critical mass of the “2020 returnees” competing the selections in these would win them hands down. 

So given how much i DISLIKED the offensively boring abomination “What love is”, and how PAINFULLY inevitable Uku’s victory in a decent Eesti Laul (um spoiler for NF corner?) seemed to be, It’s actually a shock I ended up liking Uku? But I do, lol and I’m not apologizing, sorry boos. 

In fact, I was rooting for Uku to win EL as soon as I saw his performance in the semi. “The lucky one”, which suffered from Aggressive Autotune + Forgettable Melody (we need a name for this. I propose Roxen Syndrome?), is legit good live and harps back to the (admittedly better) “Pretty Little Liar”, and that’s good enough for me. 

Of course, I am aware of the obvious ~*SOULLESS HIMBOT FROM THE DREAM FACTORY*~ label attached to this this entry (written by Uku and something called “Sharon Vaughn” are we certain this person isn’t just Kontopoulos in drag?), don’t worry. I rank him twentieth, not seventh. 

Fortunately, Uku is a mandroid from the SAME sweatshop that gave us Lucie Jones a few years back - in other words omfg he’s barely functional. 😍 Droning robot turned incompetent DRAMA KING <333333 The amount of EFFORT that needs to be thrown in to keep a ~pretence of competence~ is the most tangible in the backing vocals, which trail Uku’s like a shadow and STILL his voicecracks come through at key intervals <3

😍😍😍😍😍

The pathos of Uku throwing in high votes he cannot sing and then his voice breaking over the strain each time, gets me, okay? He doesn’t need a crystal ball to show me, baby it’s clear that you don’t know him :SOB:.  So dramatic, so inept, so unintetionally comedic, so Uku <3 

In other news, this lockdown had better end soon because with each passing day I feel like I’m turning further into a cat lady. 

ps: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KYXNeYXUmEQ&loop=0  😍😍😍

NF Corner - Eesti Laul 2021

Finally a decent Eesti Laul, lol. I wish I could say it was good, but it had one of the weirdest semi split’s I’ve ever seen. EL’s first Semi was without exaggeration the WORST show in the entire season, and the second was a contender for the BEST one across all NFs???? I suppose EXTREME Evil and EXTREME Good balance each other out in blistering adequacy? 

Anyway, I’ll now proceed to ignore Koit and Egert and Karl Killing and Hans and all the other bad (non-Linna/non-Kéa) entries from semi 1, and proceed to an NF Corner composed ENTIRELY of semi 2 songs :-)

Jüri Pootsmann - “Magus Melanhoolia”

It was between Sissi and Jüri for the Token Superfinalist Contender slot on this list, and Jüri is infinitely more notable. Sorry, Sis ur time (to win Eesti Laul?) will come once you figure out to write good music :(

Anyway, what can I even say about Jüri because lmfao what a baffling entry. Registered BARITONE JÜRI POOTSMANN coming back with a an experimental lounge jazz song that is song almost entirely in falsetto. 😍 The camera angles <3 the fact that this already INCREDEBLY short song includes 10 seconds of Jüri standing on the stage looking bored <3 what a fucking baffling entry, I have no opinions, only exclamations of surprise. 

REDEL - “Tarttu”

I HAAAATED “Tarttu” on first listen. 😂😂😂😂 but seriously though, this is downright epic. The UNPLUGGED Meiekündimees MADNESS of it all, now condenced into a equally nonsensical song that is basically like “X is a wooden town but NONE OF THEM ARE AS WOODEN TOWNY AS TARTTU. *incoherent kazoo noises*” 😍😍😍 Once got the chorus stuck in my head at the zoo as I was watching the penguins getting fed and it was one of the most bizarre synesthesic experiences I’ve ever had lmfao <3

Gram-of-Fun - “Lost in a dance”

If you’re wondering what the sort of music I listen to Eurovision is like - this is it. INCREDIBLY good and addictive and EMOTIONALLY tangible 80s New Wave is my fucking jam, can we have entries like this in EVERY selection from here on out? WELL DONE Kristel... on composing this wonderful song, less so on the Kazka-esque vocals that caused it to tragically NQ in the semi. 🙄 Still, BRING THEM BACK (and restrict Kristel to a songwriter only role, plz.)

Gram-of-Fun were my fave, but because they NQ’d somebody else had to fill their shoes in the finale. I’ll now reveal who it was

Kadri Voorand - “Energy”

IT WAS HARD DECIDING BETWEEN SUURED TÜDRÜKUD AND KADRI THOUGH. But given that Charlotte Perelli is guaranteed to appear in Sweden’s NF corner (um is she? :counts on fingers: Clara, Evas, Dotter... ehh sure I’m committed now I guess), it would be best NOT to post Dagmar & Kaire as they fucking clown her lol <3 But their song WAS pretty antiquated schlager...

Kadri otoh... absolutely breaks all records for me by delivering a unicorn: an entertaining stripped-down piano ballad. For the most part because she has incredible emotional delivery that serves personality on a fucking pyrotechnical level, like onn-stop “Loudmouthed Oaf Energy” in the form of a introspective jazz ballad <3 Can you imagine Estonia actually picking this? They could have come left-handside. 

But will Uku do well? :o

Predicted Journey - Estonia

He won’t come top 10, if that’s what you mean by “well”.😂 If you mean “qualify for the Grand Final” then... potentially? Semi 2 is less of a crapshoot than the first semifinal however. At this stage, it’s pretty much “okay, so these twelve acts can qualify... but which ten will?”.

Fortunately for Uku, he is one of aforementionned twelve possible qualifiers. (the others are: san marino, czech rep, greece, moldova, iceland, serbia, albania, bulgaria, finland, switzerland and denmark). UNfortunately for Uku, he’s one of the candidates for the two NQ slots inside that group of twelve.

The problem with Estonia is that their entry is a televote-friendly ballad, stuck in a really televote-UNfriendly slot (#02), in a semi where the jury vote will very likely put them outside the top 10. If we add in a dark stage and Uku’s shaky vocals, they don’t look particularly secure. 

However, I also think Estonia can qualify relatively easily because “televote-friendly ballad” is a unique niche inside that semi; the other ballads (Switzerland is NOT a ballad), won’t be getting many votes and Uku’s appeal as a handsome man with a dramatic song will make him stand out in spite of his spot in the running order, as LONG AS his vocal delivery (or that of the prerecorded backing vocals) remains adequate enough. If not, he’ll be swiftly forgotten and NQ.

Another thing that can cause Uku to qualify is if at least two others of the twelve underwhelm (my money for that would be on Albania, Denmark, San Marino and/or Czech Rep), making Uku the lucky one as he’ll ascend in the ensuing powercreep.

At any rate, it’s really difficult to gauge how well Uku would do since I haven’t really thought about the other BL qualifiers’ odds enough. His televote should be strong enough to avoid bottom 3, I think, and I think it’s safe to say he won’t come top five. Between those values, pffffew, who can possibly tell? I’m not burning my fingers on that. 

Projected placements > Qualifier Tier: Borderline > Semifinal: 6th-14th (out of 17) > Grand Final: 17th-22nd (out of 26)

THE RANKING

01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. ESTONIA - Uku Suviste - “The lucky one” 21. FINLAND - Blind Channel - “Dark side” 22. AZERBAIJAN - Efendi - “Mata Hari” 23. the NETHERLANDS - Jeangu Macrooy - “Birth of a new age” 24. CZECH REPUBLIC - Benny Christo - “Omaga” 25. DENMARK - Fyr og Flamme - “Øve os på hinanden” 26. SLOVENIA - Ana Soklič - “Amen” 27. SWITZERLAND - Gjon’s Tears - “Tout l’Univers” 28. ROMANIA - Roxen - “Amnesia” 29. SERBIA - Huricane - “Loco loco” 30. POLAND - Rafał - “The ride” 31. ISRAEL - Eden Alene - “Set me free” 32. GEORGIA - Tornike Kipiani - “You” 33. PORTUGAL - The Black Mamba - “Love is on my side” 34. SPAIN - Blas Cantó - “Voy a quedarme” 35. NORWAY - Tix - “Fallen Angel” 36. CYPRUS - Elena Tsagrinou - “El Diablo” 37. AUSTRIA - Vincent Bueno - “Amen” 38. NORTH MACEDONIA - Vasil - “Here I stand” 39. GERMANY - Jendrik - “I don’t feel hate”

#Eurovision #Eurovision 2021 #ESC2021 #ESC 2021 #Eurovision Song Contest #Estonia #Uku Suviste #The Lucky One

[ineedrelationshipadvice]

This is a little TMI but I started dating a guy before quarantine and during quarantine where been having basically phone sex using FaceTime. I can’t get off but he’s so into it and I don’t know what to do. It’s not like he’s forcing me he’s just asking me and I don’t really mind or want to say no. It’s like he’ll just jerk off and I can’t get off. We do it like 2-3 times a week. This is kinda embarrassing, it’s okay if you choose to ignore this.

This is not embarrassing, nor is this TMI. There's nothing wrong with this, and you should try to remember that sex and sexuality is a normal part of dating and relationships! Phone sex included, and being incapable of reaching orgasm included. Don't stress about that detail at least!

That being said, what certainly is stressful is not being able to get off while trying your damndest to do so, especially while your partner is experiencing the pleasure that you may or may not be wanting to experience. There's a lot to discuss in an issue like this that I frankly can't do, because I don't know enough about you or your unique situation. Why someone can't reach orgasm in any distinct situation is always a unique thing, and those are best discussed with a clinical sexologist so that they can work with you directly to solve your own unique issues.

But there are a few things we can go over here that can hopefully lead to toward having better phone sex!

Firstly, you mention that he's not forcing you to do this, and that you don't mind. But you also say that you "don't want to say no." Not minding something and not wanting to say no are two different things. And while it's good that he's not forcing you - that's just basic human decency right there - I do have some concerns with the fact that you don't seem super enthusiastic about doing this. Is there a reason you can think of that you're not enthusiastic about this?

Is it because you feel embarrassed sharing that side of you? If you're not enjoying this because you feel like the relationship may be moving too fast, or you just don't really want to be doing sexual stuff like that, then that's perfectly understandable. It just means that you probably aren't really ready for all that yet, and you should let your partner know that you're not really interested in doing that sort of stuff anymore.

Is it perhaps strictly the phone sex part that's putting you off? I can totally relate to that if so. I've had a few long-distance partners who want to masturbate with me over calls. I don't really jive with it... I'm not a particularly vocal-based person, and making the noises and sounds of sex to let them know my pleasure level is super cringey to me, and I don't like doing it. I don't mind doing it, but it's definitely not my preferred way to handle things. Why do I do it? I mean, if it makes them happy, that's all I care about at the end of the day. But I am not you, and if you need more out of this than making your partner happy, then that's something you should seriously consider.

These are the more emotional sides of the argument. And remember, any of the things I bring up here could be the issue. It could be one of these issues, or none of these issues, or all of the above! You'll have to diagnose that yourself with your own knowledge of how your life and emotions are.

But, to pivot the conversation, perhaps the real cause of concern is that he is able to get off but you are not. If this is the cause, then there are two factors to consider: what is causing you to not receive pleasure and do you know the proper ways to pleasure yourself.

Firstly, what is causing you not to receive pleasure? This kinda goes with the things we said previously. Is it shyness or embarrassment? Do you feel uncomfortable during these phone sex scenarios? If so, what is making you uncomfortable. Is it something you're doing, something he's doing, something that he's expecting of you, or is it just the whole situation overall? The situation is unique to you, so only to can discern something like this. But try to look at the situation from an outside perspective, and see what's actually making you unhappy or uncomfortable with the situation. Is there any way to remedy or fix that situation? Is there something that you can do, he can do, or that can be done in general that would make you more comfortable?

For instance, in one of my long-distance relationships, my girlfriend was VERY self-conscious of her body. But I'm a horny dude, so I obviously wanted to see her. She wanted to be sexual with me, but didn't want to show herself off via webcam while she was having fun on her end. That's totally fair! Instead, I asked if she'd be fine sending nudes. She was sheepish, but was happy with that idea, because she had control of what to send and how she wanted to pose sending them; this compared to the lack of control of doing things on a live camera, which felt awkward to her (a feeling I share, I hate doing that sort of stuff on camera if I don't have to).

So what are your boundaries to all of this? Do you dislike being on cam? Turn the camera off and focus on the audio component of getting your partner off. Is it the audio that is weirding you out? Ask your partner if you can perhaps transition to text-based sexting, if that would be more comfortable to you. There are lots of little changes you can make here or there that could increase your comfort while not decreasing your partner's pleasure, and you should try to explore every avenue available to you!

But to the second thing I mentioned, do you know the proper ways to please yourself? You did not reveal your gender or sexuality in your message. So out of intuition, I'm going to assume that you're female, and my advice from hereon is going to reflect that. If I'm wrong, please write back in, and I can adjust my advice to your unique needs!

Besides all that, it may sound like such an obvious question, but let's be honest, most sexual education is awful, and especially if you have traditionally cisgender lady parts, lots of education is sorely lacking in telling you how to pleasure yourself! How do fix? The answer is by educating yourself!

This goes into how you pleasure yourself? For instance, where do you focus your pleasure? Do you finger yourself thoroughly? Well, did you know that less than half of all cisgender ladies orgasm through vaginal penetration alone? LESS THAN HALF! That's a lot of ladies. Make sure to incorporate other things that can help raise your physical pleasure. Rubbing, touching, massaging of your body - grabbing your tits, ass, thighs, maybe even playful scratching - can all help boost your physical mood. Don't forget your emotional mood either! Light some candles, make sure your room and bed isn't dirty and cluttered, take a shower if you feel unattractive and unhygenic because all of these things can also influence your sexual pleasure. Then, also consider focusing more on other ways of pleasuring yourself. Focus on your clit, and try to find the right ways to pleasure yourself there. Don't discount other portions of your body too, if you're into that stuff. Also consider trying out some sex toys if you never have before, because this often helps lots of people in your situation take things to the next level.

Also, don't assume orgasm to be the main goal of sex! It's not. PLEASURE is the goal of sex, sharing yourself with your partner in a highly intimate way is the goal of sex. Orgasm is not the goal, nor is it the reward. It's a thing that happens sometimes, and if you reach orgasm, it feel really good! But you're not "doing it wrong" if you're not hitting that space, and you're not doing it bad if you're not able to cum. It's okay.

I could go on, but why would I step on the toes of Dr. Doe who did it infinitely better on Sexplanations. I would seriously recommend watching this video to learn more about clitoral orgasms, as this is stuff the majority of girls reading this right now probably never learned in their sex ed classes.

Related, Sexplanations also did an ENTIRE VIDEO this year on phone sex. It's a biggie, and tackles basically any and every issue related to phone sex that you could possibly imagine. So I sincerely recommend you watch the whole thing and see how you feel at the end of everything.

The point of all this is, it's okay. It's okay to want phone sex, and it's okay to not want phone sex. It's okay to get off during phone sex, and it's okay if you can't reach that point. But it's also okay to explore yourself and have fun during these times! And if you're not having fun, it's okay to say no and say you're not really feeling it. Do what feels right for you.

[bbclesmis]

Salon: Watching PBS's "Les Misérables" as Notre Dame burned: A lesson in processing spectacular loss

The new version of Victor Hugo's tale has no familiar tunes to sweeten its tragedy. That feels very fitting now

By way of processing the shock of watching Notre Dame burn in Paris on Monday, I turned away from social media, where livestreams of the spreading flames were sadly plentiful, and turned on the latest adaptation of “Les Misérables,” currently airing on PBS’s “Masterpiece.”

This was mainly out of obligation, to be honest. The six-part series aired its first episode Sunday, the same night as the debut of a certain show starring zombies, dragons and queens. It is currently streaming online and via video on demand. Scheduling new installments of the “Masterpiece” epic as time-slot competition to the most popular show on the planet is pure folly; then again, something has to air at 9 p.m. Sundays. If you can’t serve up the flashiest show on television, might as well come in second.

Except this “Les Misérables” trades in substance, not dazzle. It has no music to it — literally. No renditions of the Broadway musical’s most familiar ditties such as “Master of the House,” no “On My Own.”

Andrew Davies’ adaption of Victor Hugo’s literary hulk (my softcover edition is 1,232 pages long) relies on the beholder to drink in the bitter imagery and soften her heart to the plight of characters who often cannot outrun their past failings regardless of what they do.

And although Hugo’s other great work, the 1831 novel “The Hunchback of Notre Dame,” has a direct influence on the history of Notre Dame — Tuesday it soared the top of Amazon France’s n the bestseller list on Amazon France — the spirit of this new “Les Misérables” is better suited the age in which we collectively bore witness to a conflagration consuming one of the world’s great monuments.

On social media the chorus could not quite find true harmony in our collective mourning. People shared photos taken from recent visits and musings as to what Notre Dame means to them; others stonily called out the Catholic Church’s various sins over the centuries, citing everything from its participation in and funding of the brutality of colonialism to its protection of sexual abusers. Still others scoffed at what they saw as another example of manufactured grief showcases by way of Twitter.

The voices became a dueling chorus between the Fantines and Jean Valjeans of the world and the Javerts, to look at it another way. In that respect, the PBS version of “Les Misérables” needs no melodies to sell it, because the sorrow and the harsh lawful judgment demonstrated throughout the story, as well as the grace radiating through its performances — with Dominic West as Valjean, Lily Collins’ Fantine and David Oyelowo’s Javert — are its songs.

Presenting the story as an abridged version of Hugo’s writing forces the viewer to absorb the misery its characters endure without the sugar of melodic performance, without distracting spectacle that allows us, in a way, to emotionally split from the horror of what we're seeing.

And his makes it a diametric contrast to "Game of Thrones," a pure act of spectacle and escapism. HBO’s epic is pure fantasy, even though it too has a historical basis, borrowing aspects of the plot from England’s War of the Roses.

But by incorporating mythical elements and magical forces, the series’ fans can emotionally detach somewhat from the tale’s tragedy. In no way am I suggesting that certain Monday mornings in the upcoming weeks won’t be bluer than usual as the show’s fans come to grips with the death of a beloved character or three in the previous night’s episode. But we can also count on such demises being rendered in ways fitting to how the character lived. Each will be a spectacle among spectacles.

This is what struck me as I watched a place to which I’ve made several pilgrimages over the years be devoured by an element as careless, cruel and unreasonable as flame. I abandoned my Catholicism years ago for the reasons the vocal critics who showed up on Monday listed, as well as much more personal ones. And yet I have laid some of the most significant prayers of my life at the stone feet of Joan of Arc; I have knelt in prayer at her chapel inside the landmark in honor of my deceased loved ones and the troubled living I hold dear. To see the spire fall felt like a conduit to the divine being broken, even though I can’t remember the last time I went to church on Sunday.

But for a portion of witnesses, at least some of those voicing their opinions on the Internet, bearing witness to the public destruction of a world landmark prized in part because it is a work of spectacle on a grand scale became a struggle between the desire to feel and remember, and an insistence on emotional remove, a mode of thought that insists, as we watch this grand wonder crumble in faraway France, that this is not about us, whoever “us” may be,  and it's certainly not about you as an individual.

The second episode in the series, airing Sunday, shows the tale’s tritagonist Fantine at her lowest point: she’s cut off all of her hair and sold it, along with her front teeth, in exchange for a measly sum of money to send to the Thenardiers, a pair of cruel grifters with whom she’s left her daughter. She’s already been fired from the factory where she found work. Left with nothing else to offer, and no other place of employment willing to take her, she’s turned to selling herself off piece by piece: first, her most prominent assets, then her body.

The sight of Collins’ Fantine in this version of “Les Misérables” brings to mind the word most  appropriate to the novel’s title: at her lowest point, she looks wretched.

Unlike Anne Hathaway, who won a Best Supporting Actress Oscar for her portrayal of Fantine in the 2012 theatrical version, Collins’s Fantine wears the gaps in her dental work like a badge of shame. The darkness in her mouth yawns wide at the viewer as she grimaces through physically and emotionally torturous encounters, particularly at the pivotal moment that a certain gentleman crosses her path.

The man is carousing and laughing with the other ladies of the evening, all in much better shape that Collins’ tragic heroine. And when he encounters her, he treats her like a joke. Asking for her rate, she responds, softly, with the offer of however much he thinks she is worth.

“How about… nothing, then?” he counters, roaring along with his friends. Fantine is too weak to offer much of a defense, only a plea for mercy.

“I have to live, monsieur,” she softly says, adding. “Same as you.”

The “gentleman” laughs in her face. “Same as me? Cheeky cow.”

In the musical version of “Les Misérables” this exchange is preceded by Fantine’s climactic solo “I Dreamed a Dream,” the kind of song that transfixes the audience, making it impossible to look away.

This is the song that made Susan Boyle famous, in case you may have forgotten. Back then Boyle’s looks were as frequently discussed as her angelic voice, after she found fame by way of a 2009 episode of “Britain’s Got Talent.” Would she have achieved international stardom if she hadn’t chosen that particular song? It is an anthem of human tragedy, one of the most beautiful created in modern times. And it romanced Boyle, a woman in her late 40s who had never been kissed, never gotten a chance to take center stage, into an international symbol of triumph.

Point being, we’re all made to be the same creatures under the sky, but not on the same playing field unless someone wills it to be so.

Central to “Les Misérables,” which was first published in 1862, are the various trials of Valjean, actual and spiritual, some imposed on him by Javert, the law enforcement officer obsessed with bringing him to justice for a petty crime for which he was never caught and tried. West and Oyelowo are outstanding individually and in the few tense scenes they share, because they each grapple uniquely with the concept of righteousness. Oyelowo’s assured severity evokes the weight of the law and righteousness as defined by man, which serves as Javert’s north star.

West on the other hand digs into the agony of Valjean’s ongoing spiritual conflict, as he’s constantly torn between doing the right thing by man’s law and following the way of divine justice. His life is a perilous tightrope walk between these poles, particularly when it comes to making amends for his failings by raising and caring for Fantine’s orphan Cosette (Ellie Bamber).

And there’s a comfort in engaging with “Les Misérables” denuded of the songbook that made Hugo’s 19th century story popular again among the late 20th century’s masses, particularly as we come to terms with what’s been lost in the fires that nearly destroyed a place many thought would stand forever.

The spire of Notre Dame has been replaced before; it fell in 1786. It has survived eons of natural deterioration and assaults at the hands of men, notably during the ages of Napoleon and French Revolution, two eras surrounding the main action in “Les Misérables.”

“The Hunchback of Notre Dame” and Hugo’s tragic story of the cathedral’s bell-ringer Quasimodo and his unrequited love for a gypsy named Esmeralda so thoroughly seduced 19th century Parisians that they were moved to campaign for the crumbling church’s restoration, an effort that spanned decades,  continuing even up to the day of the fire. If American Francophiles revisit the tale via the page or the various films it inspired in the coming days, no one should be surprised.

But I also hope that as part of that reconnection to history, more people balance the all-encompassing passion for “Game of Thrones” by also taking time to appreciate Davies’ latest take on Hugo’s other tale. “Hunchback” is a story set in Notre Dame, but “Les Misérables” captures the soft clash of emotions resulting from our insistent lamentation over its loss. It is a story that captures the essence of humanity and redemption, appropriate accompaniment for a great work of humankind revived time and again over the centuries, out of an urgent need to redeem what is best in us. That has been the case throughout many centuries, and it holds true even today.

https://www.salon.com/2019/04/17/watching-pbss-stoic-les-miserables-as-notre-dame-burned-a-lesson-in-processing-spectacular-loss/

#les mis bbc #bbc les mis #reviews #articles #salon #notre dame de paris #pbs

[thesinglesjukebox]

ARIANA GRANDE - GOD IS A WOMAN

[7.22]

And life is a... temple...?

Anna Suiter: Is "God is a woman" a sex song? Is it sacrilegious? Does it matter? Not really, in the end. It's absolutely sexual. It doesn't shy away from that. It's the sexuality in that makes it a pointed jab at her critics, especially those who say that she's always been less than mature. This isn't something that feels forced. It's celebratory. Even with that sexual undertone it still celebrates women in a way that doesn't feel exclusionary from the lyrics and tone of the song. It's meant to feel a little bit like you're in church, at least at parts (choirs tend to do that). Even if you can't usually dance to a hymn, there's something in this one that makes you move whether you really want to or not. Who even knew that was possible? [9]

Katherine St Asaph: Points, in theory, for actually going with the title instead of shoving it behind, I dunno, "(God Is A) Woman." And the conceit is audacious enough, even though it's essentially "I Invented Sex." But God frowns upon lazy campfire strums, particularly when the vocals are way too overdressed in processing for the minimal surroundings. I assume Max Martin et al wanted the song to build, but Ariana's vocals only make sense after the two-minute mark, when all the parts are in place. [5]

Alex Clifton: What I expected: a rewrite of "God Is a DJ" but, like, God is a lady DJ? What I got: the female response to "Take Me to Church" but, like, actually sexy. [7]

Alfred Soto: If I believed in God and thought gender mattered for deities, I'd agree with Ariana one hundred percent. God prefers fresher beats and approaches, regardless of gender. [5]

Ryo Miyauchi: It's not that I don't believe Ari's claim that "he sees the universe when I'm in company," but it's just not sticking no matter how many different angles she tries to throw it. The languid guitar riffs already don't make it easy to make this any more tangible, but the lyrics are an awkward, formless thing to trace without a percussive bounce to its cadence, including that important titular line. When she doubles up on the trap triplets, it's also not the most graceful rhyme. Those "yeah" ad libs thankfully provide some grounding, though it's unfortunate if that is the sole hook for a song titled "God Is a Woman" after it's done. [5]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: It's both a relief and a disappointment that this is a midtempo sex jam instead of the glorious piece of imperial, churchy megapop implied by the title-- a relief because Ariana always does this sort of thing with extreme skill, but a disappointment because "God is a Woman" stops just short of great, hemmed in by a certain lack of ambition that leaves it more a pleasant trifle than a career-defining smash. But maybe I'm just grading on a curve here-- even Ariana's trifles are more imposing than most pop singers' grand statements, and this does everything it needs to do to earn a spot in the pantheon of psuedo-holy pop. [7]

Matias Taylor: Max Martin, who has enjoyed perhaps the most consistent stay at the forefront of popular music of any songwriter and producer ever, has spent his career synthesizing diverse sounds and styles, from bubblegum ("Oops!...I Did It Again") to indie rock ("Since U Been Gone") to reggae pop ("One More Night"), stripping them down to their essential ingredients and transforming them into slices of pop genius. On this track, the product of his and his trusted collaborators efforts is like nothing they've ever been involved with: there are echoes of classic rock, trap, and gospel, often simultaneously; there is the daring, instant-classic lyrical conceit; and there is that video, impossible to look away from. But the woman behind the microphone (who is also listed as the first songwriter) is the real secret ingredient: this is Ariana Grande's golden moment, where she fully embraces the creative potential her work hinted at previously. Like a true deity, both her vocals and the soundscape seem like they are part of the same eternal creation; she luxuriates in the chorus, at one with those decadent, gorgeous guitars; she effortlessly switches up her cadence and tone to match the chopped up pseudo trap verses; she conjures up a choir and then single-handedly overpowers it through sheer passion. Ariana has toyed with lustful abandon before, but here she becomes the very embodiment of carnal desire, with a mystical conception of her own sexuality. The verses contain a familiar mix of come-ons and self-empowerment, but this time re-contextualized into an examination of sex and gender; this is not just a song about the power of eroticism, but also about knowing your worth and demanding what you want, all wrapped in a perfect metaphor. It's a stunning evolution, one befitting of the superb modern pop that brings it to life courtesy of the genre's best contemporary producers, songwriters, and singer. Dream teams don't always reach their full potential, but there might just have been some kind of divine intervention on the day they sat down to write this one. [10]

Stephen Eisermann: Sultry R&B-pop hybrid suits Ariana better than anything else because of her natural phrasing and vocal inflections, but this song in particular, with its shifts in pace and instrumentation, feels tailor made for her. Though the title feels a tad click-baity, it's extremely fitting considering that this song feels like the event single we've all been waiting for: this will mark the transition into superstardom for Ariana. It's bombastic, catchy, unique, a bit corny, and, above all else, impactful. [8]

Abdullah Siddiqui: I've been forced to give this song a lot of thought. It genuinely confuses me. There's nothing really remarkable or innovative about it. But I can't get the damn thing out of my head. Living with it for a couple weeks, I've had to re-examine my criteria for a great song. Maybe a great song doesn't need to be inventive and elaborate and skillful. Maybe it just needs to sound good in my ear-holes. And that, it so does. [9]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]

#Ariana Grande

[keremulusoy]

Being one of the most important public spaces, can the streets prevent alienation and form a meeting area? Or a stage for musicians who left their hometowns and came to another country for one reason or another?

When you walk down Istiklal Street, you encounter musicians playing on the street so many times. Some of these musicians are Turkish, while some are travelers on their way to discover the world, and yet others are immigrants who are just passing through or end up in Istanbul due to war in their country. The answer to the question why these people make street music should be studied without strict generalization. At first look, as an external perspective, being a street musician seems pretty fine with its enchanting ways, bringing people who are there together due to different circumstances to a single area with a relatively homogenous status; though, how does it make one feel to do the job?

GO OUT TO DISCOVER!

On the subject of immigrant musicians, I would like to talk about a group of 3 people from Ukraine whom I met while strolling around Istiklal Street. On this hot day with a soft breeze, Alina, grabbed my attention, as she sang beautifully with her great voice and danced with unique moves and stood slightly in front of the two other people.  After that, I realized Svetlana whose body movements were in harmony with her violin, and Denis who calmly played the guitar. After listening to their music for a while, I approached them wondering about their stories. Alina warmheartedly told me about their position in Istanbul. “It is not our first time coming to Turkey; sometimes we even come twice a year. This year, we are in Istanbul for 3 months to spend the summer here. We are also engaged in arts in our own country Ukraine and teach music, but we are here to make save money as well as putting our holidays to good use. Denis and Svetlana are siblings; we met long years ago while making music. We receive positive feedback from people we met here or from those who stop by to listen. We dance together; sing together what else can be more beautiful than this? We haven’t faced any problems; after all, if we had we wouldn’t come here this often. We are doing the job we like; therefore we get more excited each time we go out on the streets. Istanbul is a very big, touristic city; we get the chance to meet people of many different cultures. This both thrills and enriches us, as well as making us gain brand new experiences. We like to be out on the streets to discover. We usually prefer singing Russian classics; however we also have an instrumental composition we particularly made in Istanbul. Leaving Turkey creates a feeling of emptiness in our hearts, and when we go back the first thing we do is always to prepare next year’s plan.” After Alina explained all this, I thought they can earn a living doing this job –at least for their basic and simple needs- all over the world. They do not need to know the language of the country for they have instruments to vocalize their ideas. They do not need to know directions, for music can be performed on the streets and if it saves the day and makes them feel joyous; maybe it is also a tool to earn money up to a satisfactory point. On top of that, they have the chance to return to their countries whenever they want. But, what if they were street musicians as immigrants?

Alina, Svetlana, Denis

Moments of cultural codes unraveling

Immıgratıon and musıc

“SOUNDS BEYOND THE BORDER”

While searching for books to read or movies to watch on immigrant street musicians, I came across a 5-episode video conference series called “Sounds beyond the Border” from Evrim Hikmet Ogut and Umut Sulun. The stories of 5 people from across the border, all five of them had brought different stories to Istanbul, but they had a common point which was their experience as street musicians… First of all, I have to mention a young lady, Sadim, who is younger than the other musicians. Being both an immigrant and a woman, she faces some difficulties making music on the streets; as a matter of fact she could only experience street music once in order to feel this emotion. Having had an education of music in Syria, Sadim left her school due to war and had to come to Turkey. Sadim, who mentions that she would like to continue her education says: “Actually I really wanted to graduate school and continue my education abroad on scholarship. However, the war started and we had to leave the country, so it was not my decision or something I have done to enrich my personality. When I came to Istanbul, I would have liked to continue my education, but I had to work here to earn a living, and earning money takes precedence over education. I want to join courses, but I cannot afford them. Apart from the occasional musical nights we have or singing something at home with my parents who are also musicians just like me, I cannot do anything for the sake of music. I have not come across any Syrian woman singers or instrumentalists in Istanbul. Or maybe they are an unseen minority. Usually, men musicians are able to make music on the streets. We once tried it with my mother, but it was very difficult since you need good quality sound equipment in a crowded metropolitan city. It would be nice to make music on the streets if only we had better opportunities.”

“MY MENTAL STATE KEPT ME FROM MAKING MUSIC”

Alaa Alkateb, who studied music in Syria for over 20 years, is one of those who had to come to Turkey due to war. Leaving the war environment in Syria and coming here with a small bag containing a few clothes, two paintings and his oud, Alaa says: “During the first months I only dusted my oud and tuned it back into its case because of my mental state, I could not enjoy what I played. Afterwards, I got acceptance from a university here, which was a great accomplishment. When we came to Turkey, we tried different options related to music with my sister; our aim was to meet new people. One of them was to make music on the streets in Taksim with some of my friends. It lasted for about a month. I have never had such an experience in Syria. There are many reasons why I stopped making music on the streets, but the main one is exhaustion and playing for long hours. My shoulder hurt from playing for five hours nonstop and the sound of the oud was insufficient on the street. A second reason is that everybody on the street plays with a band, but it is not a stable job since you cannot sign a contract on the street. However, during my time on the streets I met many people. We are still in touch with these people who are researchers, musicologists, and we have several projects together. Among these is a project related to children, I used to join some projects for children when I was in Syria too. We play interactive games with children, sing and organize workshop. I dream and hope to make music in Istanbul. The simplest and most important language is the language of music. The music you play brings together cultures; it will be easier for Syrians to understand Turkish people and Turkish people to understand Syrians. My goal is to sort of synthesize, finding common elements and bring them forward.” While explaining what he has been through, Alaa’s voice makes it clear that he will never lose his faith in music.

THE DEAF STREETS OF METROPOLITAN CITIES

Noise pollution deafens us to a point where we stop noticing it after a while in a city like Istanbul with a population of 15 million or in other metropolitans of the world. Due to this noise pollution, we try to find comfort with our headphones or sometimes with the notes played by street musicians. Why wear headphones when we can travel to other realms via music with the help of the different cultures on the street? Who knows, maybe we should get away from the music industry and hear them out more often. For this to be possible, they need to be able to make music under fair conditions, get the education they need, we need to help accommodate them and most importantly help them earn a living with this job, leaving our deafened sides behind…

NOTES

A research assistant from Mimar Sinan Fine Arts University State Conservatory, Evrim Hikmet Ogut, who has been conducting academic and other studies on the musical practices of immigrant groups since 2011, explains immigrant musicians making street music as such: “Making music on the street is a state of obligation, if you ask me. They are usually not really willing when they first start, since there is no street music culture in Syria and it is regarded as kind of begging. The street is like an open market where immigrant musicians can show-off their products; while performing there, they get the chance to meet other musicians and mediators that lead them to cafes, restaurants and other places they can possibly perform at. It is a public place where they meet the Turkish audience as well as tourists from other Arabic speaking countries and Syrians. Street music is subject to permission in Turkey and above all requires being a Turkish citizen. For that reason, the street music practices of Syrian musicians are pretty fragile.”

Beyoglu Street Musicians Festival

Organized by Beyoglu Municipality in 2007, Street Musicians Festival was held for 3 days on a stage built in Tunel. This festival, which was a one tine organization, can help build space for street musicians if it merges with Beyoglu Festival, held at the moment.

IMMIGRATION AND MUSIC

Immigration has been a research topic for various fields of science such as history, geography, archeology, sociology, psychology; and took its place among the important themes of other areas of  art such as literature and music. While even the immigration of the TV at home (moving it to another place) changes the whole atmosphere of the house, the total effects of a collective immigration of living beings would be enormous. This can be regarded as an explanation to how and why immigration affects many different scientific and artistic fields.

THE MUSIC OF THE IMMIGRANT

We cannot regard music as just an artistic production. Music is a product of cultural fault lines and social interactions; it is a sociological event due to the resources it feeds on and feeds in return. From the moment humans discovered their “voices” and “screamed” they also found a solution to their muteness via music. The image of immigration is being portrayed throughout all the geographies of the world as the scream of those who are unwillingly sent on exile “from where they belong”.

A musical reading will both be ‘meaningful’ and comprehensive enough in order to come in contact with especially the sociocultural level/side of mass population movements that are caused by war, natural disasters, chaos, famine, population exchange, political/cyclical changes and deportation.

By: Dilara Özdeş/Photography: Yağız Karahan

*This article was  published in the  July-August issue of Marmara Life. 

THE MELODY OF THE CITY AND STREETS; STREET MUSICIANS Being one of the most important public spaces, can the streets prevent alienation and form a meeting area?

#Istiklal Street #Music #Syria #Taksim #turkey #Turkish

[justanothercinemaniac]

Epic Movie (Re)Watch #229 - Moana

Spoilers Below

Have I seen it before: Yes

Did I like it then: Yes.

Do I remember it: Yes.

Did I see it in theaters: Yes.

Was it a movie I saw since August 22nd, 2009: Yes, #465.

Format: Blu-ray

1) This film gets off to an already great start by sacrificing the classic Disney logo music for “Tulou Tagaloa" by Olivia Foa’i. It sets up the feel of this film VERY well before we even see any of the movie.

2) Prologue

The prologue establishes a number of things strongly: the oceanic setting of this world, Maui’s character, all necessary backstory before we get into the meat of the movie, and the voice of Rachel House as Grandma. All in all it’s a great start to a great film.

3) Our first encounter with the ocean as a character shows off an early taste of the film’s wonderfully creative visuals. Also baby Moana is a cutie.

4) “Where You Are”

This is a really great intro to the film’s original soundtrack, one which holds up against classic Disney musicals such as The Little Mermaid and Aladdin. It works in the story because we get a clear sense of the environment which is Motunui. We understand what these people care about, what life on the island is like for them and for Moana. But more than that, we clearly see where Moana’s heart is: both home on her island and on the ocean. All in all, “Where You Are” is a marvelous opening number.

5) Auli’i Cravalho as Moana.

When you do a film with a title character, the stronger they are the better. Because it’s THEIR story, it’s THEIR movie. From when we first meet Moana as a baby we understand who she is, that she’s unique. She delights in her grandmother’s stories of monsters whereas other children freak out. She wanders to the water but choses to protect a baby turtle from harm first. But more than that, Moana’s internal conflict is wonderfully rich and unique. It’s not as simple as, say, Belle from Beauty and the Beast. It’s not that she just longs to get away from her island. She LOVES her island, but she loves the sea as well. She feels to feed one is to deny the other. To stay home is to ignore the ocean and to be on the ocean is to ignore home. It is this conflict, mixed with Moana’s incredible wit and charm, that makes Moana so interesting.

Auli’i Cravalho was MADE for this part. I cannot imagine anyone else playing this part as well or better than Cravalho. She makes Moana jump to life. All those things that are on the page - her internal rich internal conflict, her humor, her intelligence, her doubts, her fears, her love, her sadness, all of it - is represented perfectly by the young actress. Moana would not be the same without Cravalho’s wonderful performance in both dialogue and song. She’s just perfect.

6) Temuera Morrison as Chief Tui.

Chief Tui is a wonderfully mixed character. You understand that he cares for his people and his daughter, but he’s a coward. The solution for the shortage of fish is obvious and simple: go past the reef. But HE’S scared, not only for himself but for others. And he lets this fear control him, denying his daughter who she is in the process. It’s frustrating but purposefully so. The movie establishes it, then moves past it quickly. Temuera Morrison is really great as Chief Tui, even if he isn’t in most of the movie. He’s just very enjoyable.

7) “How Far I’ll Go”

This song is a beautiful and perfect representation of Moana’s conflict as I discussed in note #5. I cannot begin to express how personally I relate to this song, because it represents a very relatable issue Moana is facing. She needs to figure out who she is, how she can remedy these two parts of herself. That’s just amazing and the song is such a beautiful composition, supported by Cravalho’s amazing vocals. It might very well be my favorite Disney song of this decade.

8) It’s important that Moana’s first time out on the ocean is such a devastating failure. It just makes her choice to go back OUT on the water later all the stronger.

9) Rachel House as Grandma.

I love Grandma.

Grandma [after Moana asks her if she’ll tell Chief Tui about going out on the water]: “I’m his mom. I don’t have to tell him anything.”

Grandma [after being asked why she’s being so weird]: “I’m the village crazy lady. That’s my job.”

Grandma [after Moana asks if there’s something she wants to tell her]: “Is there something you want to hear?”

The writing and House’s performance imbues Grandma with such an intense such of humor and heart she is able to transcend the stereotypical “wise leader” trope. She’s a little off, not straight forward, and that’s what makes her so wonderful.

10) It is worth noting that the score for this film can be as important as the original songs, especially when it incorporates culturally appropriate music. It helps create a sense of place, a sense of character not only to Moana but to the film as a whole. It’s really strong.

11) “We Know The Way”

This is my favorite number in the entire film. I love “How Far I’ll Go” with all my heart but the sense of adventure and exploration this song captures is amazing. The vocals provided by Lin-Manuel Miranda and others are incredible. I just love it. When those strings hit in at the very end it just melts my heart. I could listen to this song all day.

12) Moana’s goodbye with her grandmother has an incredible emotional effect on the audience. It’s such a sad moment as this was the only woman who supported who Moana was completely, but it propels her into her voyage and ads weight to that decision.

13) Hei Hei is played by Alan Tudyk, who has had a voice in every Disney Animation Studios film since Wreck-It Ralph. Not only that, but it’s a caricature of co-director John Musker. Meanwhile Pua works as a caricature of co-director Ron Clements. They put themselves into most if not all of their films (most notably Aladdin).

14) I am Moana.

Moana [after she wrecks her boat, to the ocean]: “Um, what!?”

Moana [still angry]: “Fish pee in you! All day!”

15) There is a nice, subtle sense of character to the ocean. It’s not just water but when it comes alive you get a sense of its playfulness, which is pretty nice. I like that the filmmakers made that choice.

16) Dwayne Johnson as Maui.

Much like Genie from Aladdin, Maui is the main scene stealer of the movie. He gets a nice amount of development, dealing with his own insecurities and problems which compliment Moana’s nicely (as opposed to just being a one note funny sidekick). Johnson is able to balance these insecurities and Maui’s ego nicely with a multifaceted and wildly fun performance.

17) “You’re Welcome”

Is Maui is this movie’s Genie then “You’re Welcome” is the equivalent of “Friend Like Me”. From a story standpoint it serves to set up just how big a deal Maui is, how powerful he can be through a laundry list of deeds he’s done. But more than that it’s just really freaking fun. Johnson does remarkably well in the number for someone who isn’t known as a singer, the 2D tapestry art is really cool, and there’s a Flounder cameo!

All in all, it’s just a great number.

18) I really do like the inclusion of Mini Maui and the 2D art he brings. All of Maui’s tattoos are hand drawn and I love that art form so it’s nice to see it come back in little ways.

19) There is a remarkably fun chemistry between Moana and Maui. Their banter, their moments of honesty and connection, they feel like brother and sister to me. That’s something I can really appreciate.

20) Kakamora.

The Kakamora attack is the strongest action sequence in the film. It’s fast pacing lends to a remarkably fun set piece which features strong choices from Moana in how she handles it. That, plus the Kakamora themselves are mischievously fun.

21) If this doesn’t speak to Moana’s internal conflict I don’t know what does.

Maui [about wave finding]: “Knowing where you are by knowing where you’ve been.”

22) I’m a sucker for self aware humor.

Maui [after Moana says she’s not a princess]: “If you wear a dress and have an animal sidekick, you’re a princess.”

I don’t know that every Disney princess movie these days though NEEDS the, “I’m not a princess,” line. I don’t mind it, it’s just starting to feel repetitive.

23) I did not expect Disney to make this joke.

Maui [laying down on the boat]: “If the current is warm, you’re going the right way.”

[Moana feels the water get warm, but because Maui peed in it.]

24) Maui, you freaking hypocrite.

Maui: “If you start singing, I’m going to throw up.”

25) The Realm of Monsters.

The Realm of Monsters has such incredibly unique and creative visuals, lending itself to a remarkably strong sense of place. But it’s not foreign or jarring. It can be different from everything else in the movie but feel like it belongs in the film. Also we get cameos from Frozen’s Marshmallow (his back is featured above) and Zootopia’s Flash.

26) Jemaine Clement as Tamatoa.

Tamatoa is the closest thing this film has to an antagonist (after the Te Kā twist) and while I think the consensus is he’s one of the films weaker elements I actually genuinely enjoy him. Clement is a wonderful performer, able to imbue all his performances with such a fun sense of humor. His voice was made for animation so feels wonderfully at home in the giant crab.

27) “Shiny”

I know “Shiny” gets crap for being the weakest song in the film, but you know what? I like it. I like it more with repeated viewings than the first time I watched it, but once you learn that Lin-Manuel Miranda refers to it as “Sebastian’s Revenge” (as crab singing about eating people instead of the other way around) it’s hard not to like it. Clement’s vocals support it wonderfully, and while the pacing is thrown off in the middle by Maui’s reclaiming of his fishhook the song gets its groove back. Particularly when Tamatoa starts singing about Maui’s abandonment it has a nice tragic sense to it. That on it’s own is really nice.

28) This line makes me laugh every time.

Tamatoa: “You can’t run from me! Oh you can. You keep surprising me!”

29) Maui trying to be sincere with Moana after escaping from Tamatoa is a very nice moment for him and Johnson plays it well, even if it does lend itself to humor with the shark head gag.

30) Remember Moana’s conflict is that she can’t make peace with the two halves of her: the half that loves her home and the half that loves the sea. Which leads to her not knowing who she is or why the ocean picks her.

Moana: “You want to tell me I don’t know what I’m doing? I know I don’t. I have no idea why the ocean chose me.”

31) Maui’s backstory (of being rejected by his human parents) packs a considerable punch to it. That feeling of rejection and betrayal from those you love, who were supposed to take care of you, is an all too human emotion. It helps develop him, helps develop his issues of self-worth (similar to Moana’s) and explain his insecurities.

32) Similar to Moana’s failed first attempt at sailing, the fact that the first encounter with Te Kā is important. It means her decision to return is even greater.

33) Remember how I mentioned Maui’s insecurities?

Maui [after his hook was damaged in a fight]: “Without my hook I am nothing!”

34) Maui NEEDS to leave for Moana’s big emotional climax, for her resolution of her internal conflict. Because it’s not about him. We don’t need to see him resolve his issues, this isn’t his movie. The only person who can resolve that issue is Moana.

35) I LOVE "I Am Moana (Song of the Ancestors)”. I always tear up and it gives me goosebumps. It’s so beautiful and visually just wonderful.

36) I’m just going to leave this here.

(Image taken from a post by @awkwardmoanascreencaps)

37) “Know Who You Are”

I LOVE this. It’s so beautiful from a storytelling standpoint, a musical standpoint, and a visual standpoint. It packs a considerable punch and I love the fact a woman is healing another woman from serious trauma caused by a man. I just love it so much.

38) More guys need to be like Maui.

Maui: “What I did was wrong. I have no excuse. I’m sorry.”

39) Moana returning home, being accepted for who she is and accepting herself for who she is, serves as a beautiful and fitting ending to this film. She not only has figured out who she is but has reminded her people they’re voyagers. That’s why the reprise of “We Know The Way” is fitting. They all know who they are now.

40) Hey, there’s a post credits scene!

I LOVE Moana. With all my heart. I relate so personally to its themes and story, while the film is just so well done. It’s an instant Disney classic with all the hallmarks: great characters with great voice actors, incredible visuals, and amazing music. It’s just really freaking good and if you haven’t seen it yet you should.

#Moana #Auli'i Cravalho #Dwayne Johnson #Lin Manuel Miranda #Disney #Epic Movie (Re)Watch #Jemaine Clement #Temuera Morrison #Rachel House #Movie #Film #GIF

[thebandcampdiaries]

Chords of Eve - Dear Engineer EP

Chords of Eve is a band with a distinctive approach to their creativity. Their sound is unpredictable and refreshingly experimental, combining alternative rock and post-punk with influences as diverse as pop, and industrial. The band recently announced the release of a new EP, “Dear Engineer,” which will see the light of day on April 10th 2020. What’s special about this project is how diverse the music sounds. The EP’s leading single, “Brightside,” features electronic soundscapes and lush guitar tones, oftener reminiscing of artists as diverse as Muse, Radiohead or dEUS, only to mention a few. The title track is a synth-driven indie gem, which makes me think of seminal acts such as Beach House and Portishead. However, the song soon sheds the lo-fi intro in favor of a deeper, more polished sound, with big drums and textured vocal harmonies bringing more definition to the sound. “Evelyn” is one of the EP’s more haunting songs, with fuzzed-out guitar textures and a more somber vibe that might remind you of acts such as Glass Animals or Minus The Bear. On the other hand, the track “Rebuild Ourselves Tonight” is an indie-rock hitter, with a sound that reminds of artists as diverse as The Strokes, Dead Rituals, Francis Moon and DIIV, going for a lush, yet hard-hitting and energetic approach. Last but not least, “The Future’s Not What It Used To Be” is a dance-floor banger with hard-hitting grooves and catchy guitar tones, giving the EP a unique feel. The tracks are masterfully produced and the sheer variety of the sounds on t his record reveal the band’s incredibly diverse feel for creativity and great music.

Find out more about Chords of Eve, and check out “Dear Engineer EP,” which is going to be available on the web starting from the 10th of April. However, the lead single “Brightside” is going to be available from the 28th of February.

Website: https://skytitanmedia.com/chords-of-eve

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/chordsofeve

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/chordsofeve/

We also had the chance to chat with the band: keep reading to learn more!

- One of the most outstanding features of the album is the sonic variety. Rock guitars with indie beats and electronic soundscapes converge beautifully, creating something really unique. Was this a conscious effort, or the variety just happened naturally by following your instinct?

All of that was done very meticulously. We really wanted to go for a vibe that had the soul and realness of music like Jazz, rhythmic beats and bass that you feel and combine it with the sounds of the future, synths, electronic instrumentation, chirps and buzzes and all of the things we love about science fiction. We wanted to tell a story and we wanted the music to be as much a part of that story as the lyrics which means each instrument needed to be its own character. It took about a year to get the EP completed and it was worth every minute. - Of all the songs on the EP, which one was the most challenging to complete, and why?

The most challenging song was also, to me, one of the most important songs. “Evelyn”.  I've come to recognize among people around me a common unspoken feeling of loneliness, not being good enough for the world, or maybe just not mattering at all. This song seeks to capture that dull, persistent, anxiety or sadness so many of us feel. It is titled in honor of a woman that no one had ever heard of, until she jumped to her death from the top of the empire state building and her suicide photograph was featured in the May 1947 issue of Time Magazine. The song is inspired by the letter that she left to her family and fiance, and the struggles that we as human beings face with mental illness and struggles with self-worth and connectedness. Most people have either dealt with these types of issues themselves or know someone close to them that has and it's never going to get better if we are afraid to talk about it. The topic is a delicate line to walk. We wanted to explore it in such a way that does not judge or dismiss but simply recognizes that it ‘is’. - If you could pick any artist to feature on one of these songs as a collaboration or duet, who would you have onboard?

Am I only allowed to choose one?! There are so many interesting singers out there; Joss Stone, Billie Eilish, Beth Gibbons, Lady Gaga, Sister Crayon, Sarah Barthel.. Oh man, I feel like I could add an entire page to the list of those I would like to create a song with. - Because the songs have so many different sounds, do you find it challenging to perform them live, or does it come naturally?

Live performance is a huge challenge for the Chords Of Eve project. It was designed in such a way that we could include a wide variety of singers, much like in the vein of Apocalyptica or David Guetta. They have so many featured artists, no two albums are alike yet they all have a similar groove. But because of this, it is hard to have 10 people go on tour and play 2 tracks apiece live. Sometimes it's hard enough just to have two people whose schedules work together to play live.

- What is the meaning behind the EP’s title, if you want to share?

Dear Engineer is a letter, from a humanoid robot created by man, to its creator asking “What is my purpose here?” It is a concept we as people have struggled with for what seems like forever. What am I doing here? What's the point of all of this? What now? Dear Engineer is the song that asks that question through sonic poetry. It's the letter we leave behind after we have returned to the ether. - Any plans to tour and bring the music on the road?

This project has been particularly challenging when it comes to live performance, due to the style of music and number of different people (and schedules) that are taking part in it.  We are striving to do something different than what we've done with past musical groups (which is write a set list, play at a bar, put out a tip jar and do it again the next night.) Instead, we are working to create a new musical performative experience, so I’ll keep you up to date on that as it unfolds. But we will be releasing music videos and there are always our behind the scenes/day in the life vlogs on youtube!

[eurenvision]

Ren Roasts Eslariavision

My quickie @eslariavision reviews after the cut.

ANNOT - Sainte - Technicolor

Nice beat, I like the bits of 80s synth that show up in the instrumentation every now and then. Nothing particularly special as a whole, though. This would be nice background music for me when doing non-essential stuff at home.

CALIXTO - Wiktoria- Yesterday

Intro kinds reminded me of Heroes. Must be the pseudo-country thing. Fun upbeat song and melody. Not my favorite Wiktoria song, though. Again, I’d keep this in the background but probably wouldn’t specifically seek it out.

ESCHWEIDE - Nathan Hartono - Electricity

Am I allowed to roast a song when I know both of Nathan’s backup dancers personally? Delightfully pleasant, feel-good, and retro. Very enjoyable, nice contrast to the ladies with big voices from the first two entries. Love the pre-chorus and chorus.

CANAMERDA - Loïc Nottet - Million Eyes

SHOOK. Look, I love Loïc and I love this song. This is amazing. BUT. I don’t usually go for songs I already know or are already hugely popular in song contests. It feels like the easy way out. I want to discover new stuff and not reward something I already love. That’s just me, though.

QESARAKA - Tonči Huljić & Madre Badessa - Che Guevara I Manistra U Suvo

Nice instrumentation throughout. And for what seems to be a joke/meme entry, it’s definitely an enjoyable experience. (I’m obviously judging based on the video rather than the actual lyrics, coz I can’t understand them and can’t be bothered to look it up right now.) But yes, quite enjoyable.

CAMAUÉ - EXO - Monster

It’s Kpop doing what Kpop always does: Be catchy. So, no real surprises here. Nice beat, but it doesn’t really bring anything new or special  to the table.

KULAKOVO - dePresno - Hide and Seek

I’m pretty sure I’ve heard this many times before, either in a random Spotify playlist or at PlugDJ. It’s alright. I like the tone of his voice but I’m not sold on the song itself.

RINNE - Melania Trump and Michelle Obama - The Day That Brought World Peace

I know y’all like your meme/joke entries. I don’t mind them either. BUT for me to truly enjoy them, they actually have to be GOOD. This… is not. At all. Thank goodness it’s only a minute and a half.

KRAVLJAK -  Христина Соловій (Khrystyna Soloviy) - Под облачком (Pod Oblachkom)

That opening grabbed me. Maybe it’s because it’s in stark contrast to the song that came before it, but I’m loving this. I love the ethereal quality of the instrumentation and her vocal. Really transports me to a different mood.

ILISCA - Zaho - Tant de Choses

I like her voice and it’s a good tune. I generally prefer the verses to the chorus, though. The instrumentation of the chorus is fairly ordinary. Definitely appreciated the verses more. Still, not a bad tune.

SANDEMBE - One Ok Rock - The Way Back

Nice beat, and I do enjoy a good drum beat. Nice fun song, can definitely imagine this bringing the house down live. So yeah, I quite liked it.

THE STORNAWAY ISLANDS - Lorenzo Fragola - Luce Che Entra

Nice beat, and I love his voice. Heck yes. Really enjoying this song. I’m a sucker for songs in Italian, so this one definitely ticks all my boxes. Could maybe afford to be amped up a notch or two towards the end but it’s all good.

THE SPRINGWOOD REPUBLIC - Nicky Jam & Enrique Iglesias - El Perdón

Oh, another song I’m definitely familiar with. It’s a fine song, nice beat, but eh, it’s not exactly getting much of a reaction from me.

SATAGON - Ladyhawke - A Love Song

YES GIMME THAT 80S POP SYNTH VIBE YES. Fell in love with it as soon as that first chorus kicked in. This is definitely my jam.

FRESTONIA - Mick Pedaja - Valgeks

Nice contrast to the song that came before it. I love me some Mick Pedaja. His voice is sublime, and this tune is very lovely. This isn’t gonna be for everyone but I love it.

VORSSINGERS - Laura Mvula - Phenomenal Woman

Another jam. Great beat, brings something unique to the table, and her voice is quality. Can imagine marching down the street to the beat of this song. (This may be my favorite stretch of the show so far.)

MONTESQUIEU - Jenni Vertainen - Eden

Song opened strong, and I love how the Finnish sounds to this beat. Another song where I generally prefer the verses to the chorus, but this is still a very enjoyable tune. The streak of good/enjoyable songs continues!

OSWESTRY - Kimbra - Miracle

I love the tone of her voice and the beat of this song, but it weirdly doesn’t really go together 100%? Kinda kicks in during the chorus. Still, I wouldn’t mind hearing a singer with a less… whispy (?!) voice (more powerful/solid voice) singing this song. Love the beat though.

DION - Cœue de pirate - Oublie-moi

Another female with a whispy voice. This time it feels like the voice is a match to the song. It’s alright. It’s fun, light, and quirky.

ZENTENO - Kenny B - Parijs

Nice tune, nice voice. Definitely brings something unique to this competition. I like how relaxed and chilled out it is. Makes me wanna go have a coffee in Paris…

OROCASA - Nielson - Nachtdienst

Fun, inoffensive Schlager. Yeah, I can jam to it. Not much in the way of substance but that’s not the point here.

HONOKAA - Amir - On Dirait

I do enjoy Amir and I totally enjoy this song, but again, much like Loïc, this suffers from being a song I already enjoy by an artist I’m familiar with. Again, just my personal preference with such contests.

OBLASSBERG - Gülşen - Bangır Bangır

I admit: I’m a sucker for Ethno-Shake, especially when the video has a hot shirtless guy in it. I totally would dance to this song alone in my room. Fun, fun, fun.

BADARAT - Panic! At The Disco! - Don’t Threaten Me With A Good Time

It’s okay. Once upon a time this would’ve been my jam. Now… well, it’s still a fine tune, but it’s not making THAT much an impact on me. Feel like this will do a well for a specific subset of voters, though.

#Eslariavision