#like of course some people only like musicals from the past two decades that’s just their style

[gods-favorite-autistic]

People who are like “Omg gen z theatre kids only know *proceeds to list every single musical that came out after 1999*” are the most annoying assholes like hey maybe we just don’t like shit from the 1960’s or we have specific tastes have you ever considered that

#something can be said for people who are like annoyed with people who only know like Hamilton and heathers and ast like they know everything #but they’ll be like ‘gen z only knows Hadestown six bmc deh wicked in the heights heathers rtc-‘ #like just say you don’t like modern musicals and move on??? #they completely forget that like with different eras you’re gonna get different styles #like of course some people only like musicals from the past two decades that’s just their style #same with people who only like classics #people do this shit with everything like #you know what pop culture is right #could you imagine if we did this shit with like regular music #no shit saw someone say something ab people who only Hamilton and heathers and people were in the comments making whole ass lists and like #SOMEONE SAID LES MIS. THATS ISNT EVEN A POPULAR MODERN MUSICAL AT THIS POINT ITS JUST A CLASSIC #LIKE THAT MUSICAL CAME OUT IN 1980 AND THE BOOK IS LIKE OVER 100 #LIKE LES MIS CAME OUT DURING THE CIVIL WAR YOU CANT BE ALL HIGH AND MIGHTY AB IT NOT BEING SOPHISTICATED ENOUGH FOR YOU #sorry for ranting tiktok pissed me off #but didn’t we literally go through this on tumblr in the 2010’s? #I thought we all agreed that was horrible and to not do that again but like when has tiktok ever learned from tumblrs mistakes #madurday night live #musicals #musical theatre

[bingwriterxo]

party

pairing: vada cavell x reader

summary: in which you and vada click upon first meeting

warnings: smoking, drinking

word count: 1200+

author's note: i posted this on my wattpad back in march, but i'm thinking about writing a part 2, so i thought i'd bring it to this platform as well

part 2

"Not a big partier?" 

The voice startled you from your thoughts, and you heard the click of the back door as it shut. A moment later, there was a person towering over you. She kicked her shoes off and rid herself of her socks, and then she sat down on your right and dipped her feet in the pool, mimicking your own position. 

"Not a huge fan of sweaty bodies and hormonal teenage boys," you replied, eyes trained on your feet as they dangled in the water. The lights imbedded in the pool's lining were flashing, turning your skin different colors, and you were absolutely mesmerized. 

"Then why come?" she asked. "It's all sweaty bodies and hormonal teenage boys in there."

"Obligations," you stated plainly before finally turning toward the girl. You offered her a soft smile when you realized you recognized her. "Hey, Vada."

Her eyes widened as you said her name. "You know me?"

You shrugged and brought the joint that had been resting between your fingers to your mouth. You inhaled deeply and then exhaled a cloud of smoke through the corner of your lips, careful not to blow any on her. 

"Of course I know you," you said. "We've been going to school together for the past, like, decade. Plus, you're...kind of hard to miss."

Vada's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "In a good way or a bad way?"

You chuckled and then held the joint out to her. "In a good way, Cavell. Trust me." 

She smiled and then glanced at your offering. With a shake of her head, she said, "Oh, I don't really do weed."

You shrugged again, placing the joint between your teeth as you reached for the red solo cup on your left. You offered that to her instead, and she took it gingerly.

"What's in here?" she asked, looking into the cup. 

"Lemonade and vodka," you said before taking another hit from the joint. You pulled it from your lips. "Try it. It's not bad."

Vada clenched her jaw for a moment as she considered her options, and then she brought the cup to her lips, taking a small sip. She physically recoiled as soon as the mixture touched her tongue, and she forced herself to swallow. "God, that's strong!" 

You laughed at her, the weed finally beginning to make your mind foggy. "Well, you've gotta be fucked up to get through this shit," you said, pointing at the house behind you. 

"So, why do you really come, then? Just to get crossed?" the brunette asked before taking another small sip of your drink. You smiled at her action, but you didn't mention it. 

"Like I said before, I have obligations." You took your last hit, the joint dwindling to a roach, which you dropped to the ground. "Mia's my best friend, so I help her set up, buy the liquor, spread the word--all that shit. I've been to every party she's thrown," you told her. "You, however...this is your first time here, isn't it?"

Vada nodded, took another sip. "My friend Nick made me come," she said. 

"And you don't like it, do you?"

"Not really." She hesitated and then drank some more. "But this is fun." She gestured between the two of you with her free hand. 

You nodded in agreement. "Yeah. It's nice to have company for once. Usually, I'm the only one out here."

She hummed in response, lips resting against the rim of the cup again. Your attention drifted back to the pool, and for a moment, the two of you sat in near silence. Music was still blasting from the house, and you could hear people yelling and singing, but it was all muffled by the walls. 

"Let's go swimming," you suggested suddenly. You turned to Vada to gauge her reaction, a wide grin pulling at your lips.

"W-what?" the brunette asked, pure shock etched on her face. 

You began to rise from the pavement, pulling your shirt over your head and ignoring the fact that Vada turned away with a blush on her cheeks. "C'mon, Vads," you said, brushing over the nickname quickly. "Come swimming with me." You unbuttoned your shorts and pulled them down your legs, leaving you bare except for your bra and underwear. 

Cautiously, Vada looked up, and you watched as her eyes lingered on your breasts, the plane of your stomach, your legs. You smirked slightly as the girl swallowed harshly before she nodded.

"Okay," she agreed. She moved to stand, but you stopped her. 

"You have to finish that first." You pointed to the cup in her hand. She glanced toward it uncertainly. "You need to at least be buzzed, Vada. Otherwise, I'm just zooted and you're sober. That's not fun."

With a sigh, Vada brought the cup to her lips and began to chug the liquid. Your eyes widened as you watched her, attention trained on the girl's throat and watching it move as she swallowed. 

"Holy shit, I didn't mean right away," you said, yet the girl didn't stop. 

In a matter of moments, she was finished, and she threw the empty cup aside as she stood. You watched her pull her t-shirt off, and you gulped. Maybe this wasn't the best idea, but it was too late to stop now. The brunette tugged her shorts off as well, and, just like you, was left almost bare.

"Are we really doing this?" she asked, but, opposing her cautious question, there was a fire behind her eyes and a smirk on her lips. The vodka must have hit her hard and fast.

You reached for her and intertwined her hand with your own. "Yup!" you exclaimed, offering no other warning before jumping into the water and dragging her with you. 

The two of you separated beneath the water, and she spat at you once her head was above the surface again. You laughed gently before swimming towards the shallow end, the brunette following close behind. 

Once you could stand, you turned to Vada, mouth open to speak. However, no words emerged as you looked at the girl. Her hair was slicked back, darkened by the water, and there was a joyful smile gracing her face. The moonlight was reflecting off her, giving her skin a soft glow. 

You gulped, and she tilted her head. "What?" she asked. 

"You just...look...really good right now," you said honestly, unable to stop yourself. You had no filter when you were high, and now was the moment of truth as to whether this was a good or bad thing. "And I kind of want to kiss you."

The brunette's jaw dropped at your words, and you waded closer to her. When she was in reach, you looped your arms around her neck, and you giggled softly when she gripped your hips yet still hadn't responded. 

"Vada," you whispered.

"I--yes?"

"Can I kiss you?"

"Please."

You leaned in slowly, lips pressing against her plush ones. She sighed into you, the hold on your hips tightening as she pulled you closer. For a moment, the kiss was soft and sweet, but Vada quickly  tried to deepen it as her tongue slid over your bottom lip. 

You pulled away with a brief laugh, and the brunette took her time in opening her eyes, as though doing so would make this entire thing a dream. When she finally stared back at you, you smiled. 

"How about we continue this...not in my best friend's pool?" 

#vada cavell x reader #vada cavell #vada x reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #the fallout

[auramgold]

On Acht and Romance

going into side order, from the september direct trailer where Acht was first revealed i remember the joke at the time clearly being "and now Marina's ex is here".

the way this line [image description in alt] was written was basically the only evidence for this kind of idea, when the theories were kind of "Marina's order tantrum is sucking people in from her past and the DLC will be about going through her memories", so ellipses in a line like this is basically all theory crafters on no info need to go for shipping.

i'm not one who's super into plot theory crafting, i know full well the tendency to theorize something that's cooler than what you actually get and being disappointed that the story didn't live up to your imagination. the things i was obsessed with in side order promotional material was the obvious bleached coral theme, the symbolism of coral ejecting it that which keeps it safe out of stress being mapped onto Marina, the idea of her pushing those she loves (and those that keep her colorful) away out of a spiral (and it does turn out that was basically exactly what the prologue was going for)

so the whole "Acht and Marina exes" thing was kinda just a joke to me, wasn't even on my radar as something they were actually going to lean into, frankly i was still scared nintendo was going to make them kill pearlina by sending Marina to superhell or smth and we'd end up with a splatoonified destiel meme

so when the DLC comes out and it is legitimately a "they knew each other since childhood" thing, and the running bit is Acht feeling awkward third-wheeling pearlina, and it's explicit in text that one of the reasons they're coming back after the DLC is over is to scope out Pearl as the girl who took down the NILS statue who is now dating Marina... it struck me as really interesting.

at first it was me keeping up the "Marina and Acht are exes" as a joke, but as i kept reading dialogue lines, it slowly became less of a joke, they were to some degree dating because opposite but complimentary autisms, and then drifting apart as Marina got pulled away on the big girl assignment with DJ Octavio, and then the despair of knowing Marina left without even saying goodbye to Acht... it fits well into that reading, it slowly became less of a joke to believe that

but the thing that really makes me think this is intentional subtext is the final Acht diary entry you get from clearing Eight's palette. through the rest of side order talking about Acht's backstory, it seemed like they were retconning the OE lore that Acht had gotten themself sanitized intentionally, losing themself so they could explore their music deeper. but in the final diary, where Acht directly says they drifted into the deepsea metro to fall into their music, because, and i quote

"Hey, Marina. You can guess the chaos your desertion caused. I ended up without much to do except make music. "

they fell into a depression spiral when their girlfriend deserted their society without so much as saying goodbye, falling into their music deep away from interacting with everyone else, to the point that, as the old lore implies, they chose to give up their identity to escape the depression, but sanitization so thoroughly did it that they forget even making the choice.

so when they get brought out of that haze back into being themself again, with the only the barest strung-together horrified memories of what happened in the half a decade interim gap in their life, only to find themself replaced by some inkling they don't know at all, of course they're gonna be awkward seeing the two flirting.

they put on a stoic face because that's clearly their coping mechanism within this damaged body they barely recognize, hiding their eyes behind their tinted glasses so they can't be seen beneath. but the only time they let themself be vulnerable, the only time their eyes can be seen, is when they charge out in the climax when the world is at stake, diving in to try to save Marina, leaving the elevator and its protection behind to help the only person they remember ever caring about.

it's why i don't really like the aroace reading that much, because i think this reading is even more tragic and fits into the themes. the world has changed, it can't go back to how it once was, you can't put the octolings back in the canyon bottle. Marina abandoned Acht to the point they got their identity destroyed willingly to escape the pain, and when Acht came back they were replaced by the inkling whose voice they remember even through the haze of sanitized memories.

the lingering effects of sanitization have changed how they relate to everything (i think there's a fair argument to be made for the idea that sanitization took their gender can't have shit in the deepsea metro), but Acht clearly still cares for Marina and still, the slightest bit, resents having to be reminded repeatedly every time pearlina flirts in front of them how they were replaced.

#acht splatoon #side order spoilers #dedf1sh #side order #splatoon 3 side order #seriously i'm so normal about this you have no idea #splatoon #splatoon 3

[jpitha]

Between the Black and Gray 13

First / Previous / Next

Gord seemed to know exactly where to go. He led Fen around the promenade, past shops and what she could only assume were restaurants. The different lighting and coloration of everything due to the different breathing gas mixture gave everything an otherworldly look and made it hard for her brain to settle into a rhythm. Gord seemed to have no such trouble and strode along with long, confident steps.

"Gord, where are we going?" Fen worked hard to not have to jog to keep up and settled for kind of a fast striding walk, like someone who was concerned - but not worried - about missing their train.

"I have - had - a contact here. I think they can help us get some parts. Remember, the Innari use a reactor tech that's similar enough to humans that they did a tech transfer when we first had Contact."

Fen didn't remember, but she trusted Gord enough to not say anything else. They walked deeper into the strange station, and as they walked, there were fewer and fewer oxygen breathers around until they were the only suited individuals around. Fen noticed that people were watching them as they passed and tried not to meet their gazes, but Gord didn't seem to be bothered by it.

Eventually, they made it to a small shop in a back corner of some place deep in the station. Without Spyglass' help, Fen was sure she couldn't make it back on her own. There was a sign out front in the Innari's script and Spyglass helpfully overlaid the translation: "Uumar Pin, parts bought and sold."

Gord pushed the door open and strode in. The shop was... Fen could only describe it as run down. The counters had scratches and worn places from decades if not centuries of people leaning on it, the screens and pads all looked like they had been left running for longer than she has been alive, and the corners were piled with dusty boxes. Fen had a moment of surprise. Of course there would be dust. Just because they're not breathing oxygen does not mean that things would magically stay clean. Gord walked up to the counter and his helmet cleared. "Uumar? You in?"

"Yes, one moment please, Sapient." A musical voice rang out from behind a partition. There was a bustling as some tools were put down, and Uumar stepped out.

Like most Innari, Uumar was feathered. Almost like a cross between a bird and a human, they had this fluffy look about them. Their faces ended in a sharp beak and their feathers were iridescent. Fen wondered if Uumar would be heavy. She assumed they were probably very light. Without looking up they started to reply "Yes, what can I help-" They finally looked up at the two suited individuals. "Gord? Is that you Gord? I haven't seen you in-"

Gord held up a hand. "Yes, it's been a bit, hasn't it. How are you doing Uumar? Keeping busy?"

Uumar's feathers ruffled. Spyglass indicated to Fen that meant they chuckled. "That's one way of putting it yes. Ever since we did the technology transfer, our drives have been sought after by just about everyone in our sector. What in the name of the Watcher are you doing here Gord?"

"I need some reactors. I'm in a bit of a bind, but I- I found a Starjumper. Spyglass. Was sitting in a Gren station for a couple centuries languishing. That was the only way she had survived the Empire. In the intervening years she had lost all her printable mass and all but two reactors. I managed to get one reactor going, but she needs six to be at full power. I'm printing parts, but replacing the reactors will take more than that. I'm hoping you can help me out."

Uumar ruffled their feathers again and crossed their arms - a very human gesture - "Gord, you don't do anything by half measures do you? I want to manage expectations. There's no way I can sell you four reactors, even if you had the Stars, which I assume you don't. I could probably sell you one and enough parts to make your broken one working. That would get you up to three and you could wheel and deal for the other three down the line. Three would get you powered up enough?"

Fen watched Gord. He made a big show of hemming and hawing, looking around, looking unsure. While he did this he sent an icon over to Fen's readout of a cartoon version of his face, winking. "Yeah, I think I could make that work Uumar. How much would I have to put down in order to secure the reactor, and how long would it take to install?"

Uumar blinked. Spyglass indicated that his body language indicated surprise. "Uh, If you gave me one thousand Stars and four day cycles, I could get you a reactor and install it. Balance of another thousand stars due upon completion."

Now it was Gord's turn to be surprised. "You have a human compatible reactor in stock?"

Uumar's feathered arms flapped once "Mostly. It's a core return for an upgrade to a Uumari transport, but it just needs an overhaul. A few fresh parts - one day cycle's work - and it would be ready to go."

Gord smiled broadly. "That's better than I had hoped. Fen, please pay them."

They both turned to face Fen, and she squeaked. "What?"

Gord shrugged. "You're the one with the money. You did take Tam'itarr's money right?"

She had taken it, both hers and Ma-ren's share. It had wound up being almost exactly two thousand Stars.

"Gord, can I talk to you for a moment?" Fen clicked her radio over to the suit-to-suit channel. "What are you doing?" She hissed.

"Getting us a reactor Fen. One isn't enough. Uumar here has a whole other reactor that they're willing to sell us plus parts to make our broken one work. We'll go from one to three. Three means we get our Stardrive, the wormhole generator and the weapons. Three is far better than I anticipated. I assumed we were going to be able to just buy parts for our broken reactor and have to use up all our printable mass building a reactor from scratch. We need this Fen. Tam'itarr was going to kill you and take the money back, what are you going to spend it on?"

On the one hand, Gord was right. Fen hadn't given any thought to the money after she grabbed it. On the other hand, she hadn't even really begun to mourn Ma-ren's death and now Gord was demanding he spend their - her - money on his starship. On the third hand, if they didn't get Spyglass fixed they'd be stuck here for who knows how long. Two thousand Stars was more money that Fen had seen all her life, but what was she going to do with it? All Fen wanted was some time to mourn and think and she wasn't going to get that if they were stuck here.

Sighing heavily, Fen touched her pad and cast the deposit to Uumar's device. "Received." He chirped. "We'll have the reactor refreshed and sent down to the docks first thing tomorrow."

"Wonderful!" Gord clapped Fen on her back. "Come on Fen, let's see what this place has to offer oxy breathers like us, and we'll head back to Spyglass and await the installation."

Fen and Gord said their goodbyes and walked out. As they walked, Gord clicked the suit-to-suit. "Thanks Fen. I appreciate it. I know I sprung it on you, but spending that money on Spyglass was the only way we were going to get out of there."

"I wish you had told me ahead of time what was going on, Gord."

"I hadn't planned on it Fen, but when Uumar said they had a whole reactor almost ready to go, I had to jump on it."

Fen didn't say anything as they made their way back up to the rest of the station.

#humans are deathworlders #humans are space orcs #sci fi writing #humans are space oddities #humans and aliens #jpitha #writing #humans and ai #humans are space capybaras #humans are space australians #Between the black and gray

[mr-styles]

Harry Styles' Sonic Evolution: How He Grew From Teen Pop Idol To Ever-Evolving Superstar

Harry's House' not only gives Harry Styles his most GRAMMY recognition yet — it serves as a testament to how much he's expanded his sound over his already storied career.

GABRIEL AIKINS | GRAMMYS/JAN 25, 2023 - 12:02 PM

Watching 16 year-old Harry Styles walk onto the stage for his "The X Factor" audition in 2010, it's remarkable how little some things have changed in the following 13 years. Though his rendition of Stevie Wonder's "Isn't She Lovely" was rather unpolished — even receiving a "no" from judge Louis Walsh — his magnetic charisma and natural talent were more than evident. And at just 16, Styles clearly knew he was on the right path.

"Singing is what I want to do," Styles said in an interview before his audition. "And if the people who can make that happen for me don't think that I should be doing that, then it's a major setback in my plans."

Of course, so much else has changed in the ensuing decade. Styles was tabbed alongside other contestants Liam Payne, Louis Tomlinson, Niall Horan and Zayn Malik to form the group One Direction. As the band stormed the charts and captured the love of fans globally, Styles grew into his abilities — and now, he's achieved a rarified level of fame. 

Even after being part of one of the most successful boy bands of all time, Styles has reached new heights of superstardom in his own right. In addition to selling millions of albums and selling out arenas around the world, he's starred in four feature films and became the first male cover star of Vogue magazine. The depth of Styles' charisma and drive he's shown from that first audition have made him an all-encompassing star like few before him.

While Styles was a solo star as soon as he emerged in 2017 — selling out his first-ever solo tour and debuting his self-titled first album atop the Billboard 200 — he has dominated the 2020s. His second album, 2019's Fine Line, spawned his first No. 1 hit in the U.S. in 2020 with "Watermelon Sugar," which also earned him his first GRAMMY in 2021 for Best Pop Solo Performance. But 2022 was the year he took his stardom to the next level — and it all began with an invitation to Harry's House. 

The lead single of Styles' third album, "As It Was," became undeniable, debuting atop the Billboard Hot 100 and spending 15 weeks there — the most in history for a British act. And when Harry's House arrived less than two months after "As It Was," it was clear that 2022 was the year of Harry. 

The album, featuring smooth electronic beats and funky bass riffs, went platinum in the UK and US, put four songs into the Billboard Top 10 at the same time, and earned Styles the most GRAMMY nominations of his career. His six nominations for the 2023 GRAMMYs include his first in the coveted Album Of The Year, Song Of The Year and Record Of The Year categories; Harry's House also earned a nod for Best Pop Vocal Album and "As It Was" is up for Best Pop Solo Performance and Best Music Video.

If you ask Tyler Johnson — who has co-written and co-produced the majority of Styles' three solo albums — the GRAMMY nominations may just be Styles' biggest validation yet. "It's really the music community recognizing him as Harry Styles — [his time in the band] is just another part of his resume, it no longer defines him. And that's really exciting."

In reality, Styles hardly ever let his past define him. Even Johnson sensed Styles' star power upon meeting the singer in 2015. "When I first met him, I knew a lot about him from the band, but it was obvious he was a star," he recalls. "Especially how he performed in the vocal booth, it was very brave. I was like, 'Wow, this person has no barriers.'"

With no barriers comes a willingness to always try something new — which is why the Harry Styles of Harry's House sounds much different than Harry Styles of One Direction. The change was heard immediately back in 2017 on his first solo single "Sign of the Times," released ahead of his self-titled debut LP later that year. It's a rock track to its core, starting with hearty piano chords and building to a crescendo of wailing electric guitar and crashing drums. This initial offering was a sign of what was to come, as Harry Styles is built on these rock sounds from beginning to end. 

Even if reviews weren't outright surprised by this sound, they noted the seemingly brand new, well, direction. "Few people probably predicted the 23-year-old ex-One Direction superstar to drop the kind of album that makes your uncle or your mom perk up," read Variety's review. Pitchfork mused, "If you only know one thing about Harry Styles, it's probably that the album bucks the established trends governing bids for young male solo pop stardom." Styles becoming a rock star was something new, but looking back at the totality of his work, it's not quite as surprising as it might be at first glance.

When assessing the music of One Direction, the singles will of course stand out. Tracks like "What Makes You Beautiful," "Live While We're Young," and "Best Song Ever" are big and boisterous, with infectiously fun hooks. And while each of the group's five albums had rock influences — queue the Clash-like electric guitar opening of "Live While We're Young" — they're all pop projects at their core. And the writers and producers behind them were pop masterminds, too, including Rami Yacoub, Steve Mac, Ed Sheeran, and Ryan Tedder.

By nature of an essentially constant touring schedule and working with so many other people — especially the four other members of the group — there was simply less opportunity to write. Across the 86 songs in the band's discography, Styles has writing credits on only 21 of them, whereas he serves as lead writer on every track on each of his three solo albums. 

"I think it was tough to really delve in and find out who you are as a writer when you're just kind of dipping your toe each time," Styles told Rolling Stonein 2017, recalling some of the struggles of being in a band. "We didn't get the six months to see what kind of s— you can work with."

Listening to the songs Styles did have a hand in writing for One Direction, though, the throughline of his career becomes clearer. Even the earliest tracks he co-wrote include key elements to his later songs.

The chorus of Up All Night's "Same Mistakes" takes his penchant for lyrical repetition, creating a folksy call-and-response feeling and pairing it with powerful guitar chords; he uses a similar pattern on Harry Styles' opening track "Meet Me in the Hallway." Made In The A.M. ballad "If I Could Fly" is strikingly vulnerable lyrically and melodically minimalistic; this combination is seen on Styles' solo ballads, like Fine Line's "Falling" or Harry's House's "Matilda."

Styles' solo success also stems from his versatility. Alongside folksy ballads, he has an ear for rock songs to fill a stadium (and after completely selling out his 2021 and 2022 Love On Tour stretches, stadiums may be where he's headed next). "Where Do Broken Hearts Go?" is one of One Direction's most anthemic tracks, tailor made for karaoke or shouting alongside a crowd. It's no surprise Styles is the sole One Direction member on the writing credits for it, and you can hear that same exuberance on his solo rock anthems, from Fine Line’s ultra cool smash "Watermelon Sugar" to the funk rock-infused "Late Night Talking" on Harry's House. 

In a 2017 New York Times interview, Styles explained his rock influence — and really, his musicality as a whole — stems from his own musical tastes. "I really wanted to make an album that I wanted to listen to," he said of Harry Styles. "That was the only way I knew I wouldn't look back on it and regret it. It was more, 'What do I want to sit and listen to?' rather than, 'How do I shake up compared to what's on radio right now?'"

Judging by the elevated sounds on Harry's House, Styles' musical interests have grown as he has evolved as an artist. While there are hints of his previous writing and growth on the album, Styles incorporated so many new elements, and that's what makes Harry's House so interesting and so refreshing. 

Funk pervades the record, with synths and stylized loops fleshing out tracks like "Music For A Sushi Restaurant" and "Keep Driving." There's a constant sense of playfulness throughout all 13 tracks — something that was apparent to Styles' collaborators long before the world got to hear it. 

"Harry just said that he's never been more proud of anything, and Tom [Hull, better known as producer Kid Harpoon] and I are just there for the ride," Johnson says. "We didn't feel too caught up in the kind of reality of who he is and having to put out an album very specific to the commerce side of it. It was a lot of having fun and just kind of burying our heads in the sand and enjoying doing it. That was very different from Fine Line."

Styles can seemingly feel his evolution himself, too. In a wide-ranging interview with Zane Lowe upon the album's release in May 2022, Styles revealed that he tried not to take direct sonic influences on this record like he had in the past. "I kinda felt like you can reference things by the emotions that they evoke," he said.

The same interview points out how much more comfortable Styles has become with being flexible and fluid, both in his own writing and his collaborators. And now that he's found his right-hand men in Johnson and Hull, he finds it easier to bring his ideas to life. This has allowed Styles to continue to expand his writing, and that resulted in an album that launched his superstardom to even greater heights — and showcased Harry Styles simply having fun.

Now 28 (almost 29!), Styles has been a beloved star for nearly half of his life. In that time, fans have watched his musical abilities mature, morph and expand; he has shown a willingness to always have an eye on what comes next — and that forward thinking paid off in a big way in 2022. However he evolves next, it seems Styles will never lose the drive and endearing charm the world first saw on the "X Factor" stage over a decade ago.

"He's a very similar person. He's a very consistent, loyal, kind person, very focused. That is all the same," Johnson insists. "He's just doing what people do when they do it more and more — he's focusing in on who he is more, he's gaining confidence, and he's becoming more and more himself — which is a very potent thing."

via Grammy.com

#harry styles #Grammys 2023

[ophelia-writes-stuff]

♥ power of my love . part 1 ♥

. pairing : yandere!austin!elvis x reader

. summary / request : you're a pretty small and local fashion designer, so you are both thrilled and nervous when you get a call from a long-time friend of yours, steve, who tells you that he's got a job for you in vegas for no other than elvis presley. when the two of you meet, sparks fly, but you can't help but notice a more sinister underlining to your friendly relationship as time goes on.

. notes / warning : swearing, usage of drugs (i.e. cigarettes), nothing too dark for this chapter. though i have to say that elvis isn't seen very much in this chapter as i was setting things up, but he'll certainly be much more prominent in future chapters. and, i was wondering, i'm pondering between doing a slowburn and more of a quickly-paced fic, so if you have a preference, please leave it in the comments! thanks, and enjoy!

. word count : 4k

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tags: @venus-haze, @luckyevansstan, @rxsesss, @ggxsan, @sydneyyyya (if you'd like your name to be removed/added, pls just ask me!)

You'd always loved designing and sewing clothing. Even when you were younger, you remember picking up knitting remarkably fast with your grandmother, who, of course, loved to teach you. Scarves were a thing of the past in only a month, and you had the impressive ability to knit sweaters and stuffies when you were only seven. Sewing, however, proved to be more challenging, as your grandmother managed to teach you the basics of it, but died before you turned ten.

Although, instead of discouraging you from pursuing your passion in clothing, this only motivated you to improve quicker. You could remember going to every library and bookstore in town and finding ever book you could find on sewing to try to get better at the meticulous craft of clothing design and making, and it without a doubt paid off. By your teens you near-perfectly knew the ins and outs of making clothing, and already new some things about design.

You had always appreciated your parents' supporting of your passion in the clothing industry. They eagerly payed your college fees once you had been accepted into one of America's top fashion design schools, and listened intently when you spoke of your future as a clothing designer. You always felt so fortunate to have such wonderful parents in your life.

During your time in college you made many friends, including a certain Steve Binder, and although he didn't technically go to your school, you did spend a great deal amount of time with him as he was skilled in the art of helping anyone find themselves, which not only helped you a great deal when it came to designing clothing that you loved, but made you realize that style was another outlet for just that.

After college you were welcomed home with many job offers, a couple of which you accepted, but you found that you didn't appreciate the stress and pressure that came to being in the public eye of the fashion industry. A little disheartened, you searched for other types of jobs to pursue for people with your type of skill. Luckily, you were able to land some gigs as a personal fashion designer for some somewhat wealthy people near your hometown, and soon found that you greatly enjoyed designing personal outfits for people, and so, you decided to pursuit a career that line of work.

It didn't take long to start climbing the social hierarchy, you soon found out, as in no less than a year you were working for some rich fellows and occasionally some people leaning more on the famous side, all while remaining under the radar of the general public.

And now, almost a decade later, you were happy to report to anyone and everyone that you still love your job, although you had to admit that it could be lonely at times, but you always had music to accompany you.

Swinging your hips side to side as you softly hummed the tune to the song that was currently playing on the radio, the name of which you couldn't quite remember, you smiled as you stared at your newly finished piece of clothing. Mr. Wilson would most certainly love it, this, you were sure of. The suit was perfectly formal but not too over-the-top, and managed to capture the man's essence in it effortlessly.

A wringing from your phone snapped you out of your thoughts, and you hastily walked over to it and picked it up.

"Hello, this is personal clothing stylist Y/n L/n speaking, how may I help you?" you recited, your smile never once faltering. You'd learned through your years of work that smiling while you were talking was crucial when it came to sounding friendly, even when the other person couldn't see you.

"Ah, Y/n. It's been a while, hasn't it?" a familiar voice on the other line spoke. Though you couldn't quite decipher it immediately, once you eventually did, you let out an amused chuckle and muttered a "hey Steve," into the telephone.

"How have you been?" asked your friend.

"Good, good. Busy, but I suppose that's always a good thing. You know what they say: if you love what you do, you'll never work a day in your life."

"Well said, well said."

"And you? How's your work been?"

"Same as yours. Been able to travel quite a bit," you heard Steve let out a quiet laugh. "Actually, that reminds me, I've got a job for you."

"Oh yeah?" You tried not to hide the slight disappointment in your voice as you spoke. It wasn't that you were disappointed by the fact that he had a job for you by any means-- you'd simply let your hopes go up and assumed that Steve was calling you for leisure, not work.

It was irritating, truly-- to think that your small crush on the man from when you were younger had developed over the years, and although you had come to accept that he simply wasn't that into you, but you couldn't help but hope something would suddenly change out of habit-- that a fire would somehow spark in his heart for you and he'd realize after all these years that you were someone that'd he'd consider liking as a bit more than a friend, but you were glad to have him as a friend, nonetheless.

"Yeah. Got an especially big client this time, too. Says he wants to find himself again. I couldn't help but feel like you could help him with just that."

You felt your cheeks heat up at the complement.

"I'm flattered, truly, Steve, but I must ask, how can I really help with something like that? Clothing can only help people so much, and I can't help but feel like whoever you're talking about may need something more than just a new change of clothes."

"I'd agree with you if the situation were different, but this one's pretty special. My client has a show coming up, and he's trying to change up everything and anything he can. The outfit is definitely going to be an important part of that, and I couldn't think of anyone more skilled in the art of making the perfect clothing for the perfect person other than you."

You felt your hands grow clammy at the high praise. You knew Steve was never one to bullshit, and he'd worked with many people like you in the movie industry, so when he said that, he meant it. He truly believed you were one of the -- if not the best clothing stylist in all of America. "Oh, you mean it, Steve? Little ol' me?" You shook your head and couldn't help but grin widely. "Who is this client, anyway?"

"Elvis." He didn't offer up more info, and you couldn't help but gawk at the news.

"Elvis-- you mean the Elvis Presley? The king of rock-and-roll, sole owner of the heart of every woman in America? That Elvis Presley?"

"The one and only." You couldn't understand how Steve seemed so calm about this.

"And me? You want me to be the one to make his outfit? Steve, I don't think I'm very qualified for this position..." You simply couldn't believe it. Though you'd worked on some attire for some people with some important titles, you'd never done something this big. It all felt so surreal. You, a local clothing stylist, were being offered to make an outfit for the Elvis Presley.

"The gig's in California. The flight'll be paid for and so will the hotel, so don't worry about the bill. Can I book you a plane ticket for tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow!? That early?"

"Be at the airport at 7:30am at the latest. Wouldn't want to miss your flight and be late. I'll make sure you get your ticket before the ride. I'll be there to pick you up once you land."

You attempted to protest, but your efforts were futile as Steve had already hung up the phone.

The sneaky bastard.

You tried to think ill of Steve as you started packing your things for the next day, but much to your dismay, you couldn't help but feel thankful that he'd given you such an amazing opportunity. After all, it wasn't just anyone who had the opportunity to design an outfit for the one and only king of rock-and-roll. You couldn't think badly of him for providing you with something like that, even if he was cutting the timing a little short.

Letting out a sigh, you stared at the finished suit that you had only recently just been completed. I'll have my parents send it over, you thought to yourself as you folded your clothing. Your parents had always been good with that.

The night before your flight to California was, arguably, one of the worst night of your life in terms of sleep. You hadn't even managed to fall asleep until around 3:00am, thoughts of meeting Elvis Presley buzzing through your mind. You had tried many times to settle your thoughts and tried to convince yourself that you were barely going to spend much time with the man, and that the most interaction with him that you'd surely have would be a conversation on the topic of what he wanted and a brief period to measure him, but nothing could cease your restless mind.

When you had, in fact, woken up at 6:00am, (which was annoying, as you would have preferred to have gotten up earlier and to have been much more early when you came to the airport) you were without a doubt completely and utterly exhausted. You wished that Steve would have been kind enough to provide you a week to prepare, or to at least get ready to meet one of the most famous men on the planet, before you had to jump on a plane ride to California. But, alas, Steve was never truly one for waiting-- this was something that was undeniable.

Your limbs ached as you brushed your teeth, threw on some clothes, brushed your hair, and even when you ate breakfast. Once you had finally been able to get on the road, you found yourself pressing abnormally hard on the gas pedal as you knew you were cutting it short on time, since the airport was about forty five minutes away at best.

Once you had, in fact, gotten there in one piece, you dashed towards the front to have yourself and your luggage checked in, which was able to be done in a somewhat timely manner. You were sure you must have concerned the woman at the front desk you were talking to with your franticness, but you tried to pay no mind to that fact as you entered the plane as you sat down between two older gentlemen (which, mind you, felt very awkward and uncomfortable).

Regardless, you couldn't help the gradually increasing excitement you felt as the plane got closer and closer to Burbank. You could hardly remain still on your seat once you had finally landed-- it took everything in you to simply take a few seconds before you unfastened your seatbelt and sprung up from the seat you had been confined to for ever so long.

Once you had left plane you were in, you were pleased to find Steve standing only a few meters before you, offering you a friendly wave.

"Hey, Steve," you greeted, offering the man a kind smile. He, in turn, did the same.

"Y/n! Good to see you."

"Not like I had much of a choice."

Steve raised an eyebrow and gave you a slight smile. "So would you have denied the job if you were given the chance?" A more cheeky smile spread its way across Steve's lips-- something rare that wasn't perceived by many, but something you has the opportunity of seeing-- in response to your silence. "That's what I thought. Now, why don't we get in my car and head over there?"

The drive itself wasn't too long, but similarly to how the plane ride felt, seconds seemed to last for an eternity. When you two had eventually arrived, you were practically shaking in your boots. Though you knew you'd most likely have some time before you met Elvis, just being in the same vicinity as the musician spiked your anxiety.

Steve seemed to have noticed this, however, as he offered you a reassuring smile. "Don't worry. EP's a nice guy, trust me. I was just as nervous when I first met him."

At his confession, you let out a skeptical chuckle. "I can almost guarantee you that you were not as nervous as I am right now."

Steve merely shrugged at this, before slipping a cigarette out of his pocket with his right hand and a match with his other. He plopped the cigarette into his mouth and lit it. "Now, let's go find your hotel room," he said, and you didn't miss the way his hand was placed delicately behind your back as he lead you inside.

"Oh wow-- this place is quite extravagant," you mumble mostly to yourself as you stare in awe at the gorgeous architecture and the high ceilings. The fancy jewels and furniture that were placed around the room alone would have most likely been worth more than all of the money you'd ever made.

"Yeah, well, I supposed the Presley Enterprises thought it was wise to have everyone stay in the same hotel, which I suppose is nice." Steve's hand was slipped into his pocket as he abruptly stopped. "We've arrived."

His hand then came right back out of his pocket as he handed you a key. You smiled timidly as you accepted it and placed it into the keyhole, and you felt yourself smile as a satisfying click was felt once you inserted it in and turned it.

To say that your breath was taken away once you entered the room would have been an understatement, and although you were sure that this room was one of the cheapest the hotel had to offer, it was beautiful nonetheless.

"Feel free to run up room service as much as you'd like. I'll leave you here for a couple of hours but I'll come back around noon. You can catch up on sleep or prepare for anything you feel needs to be prepared for."

You smiled, "Thanks, Steve. This means a lot."

The man, in question, shrugged and gave you a small smile in return. "Don't mention it."

Once your friend had left, you placed your room keys somewhere safe and started unpacking the fabric samples that you had taken out for Elvis Presley. You'd decided to only choose the most expensive materials as you knew something cheap would never suit a man with his kind of title.

Once you had made sure they were thoroughly organized, you let out a tired yawn as you dragged yourself over to your new bed. You took a solid moment to stare at the neatly tucked in sheets and the meticulousness that must come from whoever laid the bedding, and felt almost guilty as you ever so carefully ruined it and slipped underneath the covers. You didn't bother putting on any pyjamas-- you were simply much too tired. And, besides, you'd have to get up soon enough, so what was the harm?

Though short, your nap was somewhat enjoyable. The bags under your eyes (which you'd only learned were there once you'd decided to go to the bathroom right before your head hit the pillow) were less pronounced, though you still hastily chose to add some foundation and powder to make them seem less noticeable before Steve came.

Having nothing much to do as you weren't very tired, nor did you need to organize or prepare anything else before you inevitably met Elvis Presley, you placed on some high heels and started fidgeting with your hands. It had always been a habit of yours that you could never quite shake off, but you were fine with that, you supposed. It was much better than many of the vices that some of your colleagues and friends had picked up.

A knock on the door startled you out of your thoughts, and you smiled meekly as you walked up to the entrance of your room and greeted no other than Steve.

"Glad to see you're ready," he said, taking a quick peer into your hotel room. "We're just going to set you up at the studio today, so you can bring your materials and supplies with you. I'll explain how things will work when we're there." You nodded attentively and grabbed your things when your friend finished explaining the current situation.

You came outside and noticed that there is already a cab inside, and when the driver spotted the two of you, seemingly having expected Steve's arrival, he beckoned for the both fo you to enter to which you obliged.

The drive-- luckily-- didn't take very long, and in roughly ten minutes you were standing in front of an NBC studio. It practically screamed for attention, the letters and light all around in flashing in a hypnotizing manner.

"After you," said the man beside you, who, you ever so suddenly noticed, was not beside you any longer, rather, he was opening the door open. You muttered your appreciation as you walked through the studio doors, and all but gaped at the large interior. While, yes, you'd expected to studio to be large, nothing could compare to its truly colossal size.

Steve didn't even bother staring you as he, too, gazed at the room.

"Pretty big, huh?"

You let out a sarcastic chuckle. "Huge."

You followed Steve through the studio as he started meandering around the halls.

"Were are we going?" You asked curiously, after a couple of moments.

"Just to your new office. Then I'll lay some ground rules." At this, an eyebrow of yours quirked.

"Ground rules?"

"Yup."

Steve didn't offer you any more information about the topic.

Once the two of you finally entered what you presumed to be your new office, Steve motioned for you to take a seat, and so, you did just that. You stared up at him, with a hidden interest as to what his next words would be.

"Ok, so, ground rules," he starts, pacing around the room in a peculiarly formal manner. "Firstly, you aren't to speak to the Colonel to tell him what you are designing." To this, your eyebrows raised, and you stared at Steve in a way as if to say, please explain.

"The Colonel is Elvis's manager-- you know this much, yeah?" You nodded at his statement. It was unlike any normal person not to know the Colonel. He was a publicly hated figure, known for practically stealing Elvis's pay check and being the most greedy man on the face of the Earth. "Yeah, well, the thing is, he doesn't know about Elvis's plans. He believes that Elvis is supposed to and is going to do a Christmas special."

"A Christmas special? Elvis?" You echoed incredulously, resulting in a nod from Steve.

"That's what the Colonel and the investors believe. But, as I'm sure you could imagine, Elvis isn't a fan, so he's decided to take on a new path to this whole thing-- but the Colonel doesn't know, not just yet. I'll try to make sure he doesn't talk to you, but if he does, just talk about something Christmas related you've got in the works." Your brows furrowed. Was this job even legal?

"Now, since most of the clothing is made, your job is simply to provide the perfect outfits for Elvis--" Upon seeing your now worried expression, Steve tried to offer you a reassuring smile. "--Who you'll meet today, but won't yet work with, so don't worry about that too much right now."

"That-- that's good. Yeah. That works." Your heart was racing at the mere prospect of being in the same building as Elvis-- so the simple idea of meeting him made your knees weak. You could barely speak without fumbling over your words.

Of course, you weren't quite like how some girls were when it came to fawning over Elvis, but there was no denying that you loved rock-and-roll, and you never minded a pretty face to accompany it. And, after all, you were going to be meeting America's most popular icon of the decade. It was only natural to be a bit nervous.

"Alright," Steve seemed to nod to himself. "I'll give you about... ten minutes? Then I'll introduce you to Elvis."

The moments that followed felt much longer than when you were on that plane ride.

You wasted no time in unpacking your materials and placing them in an orderly manner around the room. Once you had finished, you sat back down in the chair you had previously been seated on. Your knee bounced up and down as your mind wandered and tried to find something interesting to think about.

Unfortunately, however, your mind was clouded with thoughts of Elvis. You tried to bury them deep down as you occasionally readjusted your tightly-fitted dress and toyed with your hair. More than an eternity seemed to have passed before Steve had finally entered the room, and didn't give you so much as a word as he nodded in your direction, as if beckoning for you to follow him, to which you obliged.

Upon seeing the back of a black-haired man in a suit, your eyes nearly flew out of their sockets. He was presumably waiting for the both of you-- and with slicked back and an iconic greasy hairstyle, there was no denying who the man before you was.

Elvis Presley.

"Elvis," Steve greeted in a formal tone. The man, in question, turned around, and right you were. It was undoubtedly no other than Elvis Presley.

"I'd like to introduce you to your new clothing designer, Y/n L/n. She's the best that I've ever seen in the industry." Now, this peaked Elvis's interest. He knew how stingy Steve was when it came to compliments, so you truly must have been something.

Elvis's eyes briefly raked over your body, and, feeling unable to help it, you pulled down your dress as low as you could and offered a small, shy smile.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Presley."

Elvis could only shake his head bashfully at the formal greeting, and in a deep, husky voice, said, "Pleasure's all mine," and offered you the most charming of smiles. "And, please, call me Elvis."

Once Steve had left and allowed you two to chat for a little while, you knew that you were visibly shaking, but Elvis was kind and tried to offer you as much reassurance as he could, and it was endearing-- his humbleness, his caring nature. Conversation flowed like a river between you two when the ice finally broke and you were able to become a little bit more open.

Regardless, the two of you had to cut the conversation short when Elvis got called over by his manager, and he bid you a quick farewell and offered you a grin before leaving you to your own devices.

And watching him walk off, you couldn't shake off the sense that something had just blossomed between the two of you-- something new, something raw. Something that you couldn't quite decipher the connotation of, but you knew would grow.

Your thoughts didn't get too far as you were immediately called over by Steve, who assigned you to a couple of tasks before claiming you were done for the day. At this, you, of course, after a long day, practically ran to your hotel room and collapsed on your bed when you got there. Although you were most certainly excited by the day and had whatever one could consider as "fun" considering you were working, you were still exhausted by your lack of sleep the previous night, so you wasted no time in changing into your pyjamas and clambering back into your bed.

And when your head hit the pillow, your eyes closed as you let fatigue take you over, but couldn't help your whirlwind of thoughts about the show, and Steve, and Elvis, before you truly lost your consciousness.

#lia-writes #lia-fics #yandere elvis #elvis presley x reader #elvis the king #elvis x reader #austin!elvis x reader #austin elvis x reader #austin butler elvis #elvis biopic #yandere elvis presley #yandere elvis x reader #yandere elvis presley x reader #yandere #yanderecore #elvis film #elvis 2022 #baz luhrmann elvis #elvis presley #elvis movie #elvis movie 2022 #elvis x y/n #elvis presley x y/n #elvis presley x you #elvis x you #x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #fanfictions #elvis fanfic

[katnissgirlsmakedo]

shadowhunter chronicles characters and whether i think they would be swifties, a post: (obviously i am excluding all characters who are from the past and died before taylor swift even existed because frankly i don't care to debate whether mattew fairchild would be a swiftie. he's dead <3 peace and love)

clary- not at all. she listens to freak weirdo music. also she stopped keeping tabs on pop culture in 2008 so what would she even know about taylor swift unless one of her shadowhunter friends makes her listen to her. i think it's possible that in like 2014 she heard a 1989 song and loved it but didn't find out it was taylor swift until 6 months later when simon had to inform her

simon- again, weirdo freak music. he'd be the guy who only starts liking her because of folklore but unfortunately cassanda's timeline only goes to like, 2013 rn and will only go to 2015 for twp so. we'll never see that. i think he has nothing against her music because he is a Music Appreciator but he is probably a huge asshole about her as a person becuase he has a haters soul <3

jace- well i don't think jace listens to modern music <3 however i think in his post 2008 life he has more appreciation for human world art and he would eventually come across a vinyl of red or something (he's totally the type of annoying to have a record player do not dispute me on this) and i think from there he would like her, this is how clary is introduced to her music btw

alec- i literally don't think alec listens to music. other people listen to music around him, and he does NOT have a haters soul so he is NOT an asshole about any of said music.

izzy- yeah <3 and i think her and simon have had fights about it <3 it's not that deep to her though she only fights with him about taylor swift for fun and then they have crazy sex

magnus- well yeah. of course. he would love how swifties behave like a cult he would think that's soooo funny... he would love the glamour he would love her showmanship he would go to all her tours and have the time of his life. duh.

emma- yeah why not... she's a girls girl and she has an obsession with being just like jace. she is listening to taylor swift...

jules- he is listening to taylor swift with his beautiful girlfriend...

dru- dru is crucially a weirdo freak emo girl, i just know that when she puts on music it is an assult on the ears and no one likes it and ty wants to kill her about it. and also at the same time emma is functionally her big sister she looks up to and therefore she must appreciate taylor on emma's behalf

cristina- no because she's not american she doesn't have to give a shit about taylor swift

mark- if you asked mark blackthorn what his favorite song was he'd say some bullshit like "the sound of the river flowing at sunrise when the birds are chirping" so. like yeah he'd mostly be saying that just to fuck with you but goddamn that is annoying. anyway

helen- she's a gaylor. to ME

aline- the wife of a gaylor. but she thinks shake it off is the most annoying fucking song she has ever heard in her life <3

livvy- much like dru, she has to defer to emma with this, so yes she likes taylor swift, however i know in my heart of hearts that livvy is a pop music girlie and the fact that taylor was mostly country pre-livvy dying would piss her off soooo bad. she'd have to find put about 1989 from kit it would be a whole thing she'd make ty play it for her because she's a ghost who only has two friends it's terrible...

ty- it's complex. no. but also yes. but also crucially no. but yes. don't worry about it.

tessa- tessa would love ipods i know she does... girl from the victorian era living to the invention of the ipod touch.... dude. do i think she's listening to taylor on her ipod? maybe a little. but i think magnus probably made her a playlist of all the greatest songs from the last several decades that she missed while in the spiral labyrinth and she is just trying to catch up in her free time... obviously all too well is on that playlist though.

jem- man i just think he's thrilled to be alive. i think that guy likes everything, especially if tessa likes it. guy who is constantly overcome with the beauty of life fr

kit- i think he would make fun of jace for liking red so much and then he'd go home and listen to it and cry. he pretends to have the haters soul for clout but he doesn't and he never will and it makes him look fucking pathetic <3

#beth.txt #tsc #the afternoon nap is the mind killer i will not nap

[riseofthecommonwoodpile]

how do you find so much music to listen to? i don't have any friends who like music as much as i do, so i end up getting all my recs from tumblr, but i feel like i'm perpetually lagging behind all my cool mutuals. also, i feel like it takes me a long time to listen to an album and form a conclusive opinion on it, but you seem like you can knock that shit out super fast (remembering that music rating project u did). any tips for broadening my library? thank u and have a great day

This has been in here forever but i never took the time to answer it, i'm sorry! Hopefully belated is better than not at all

Long story short, it's one of those things where the more music you listen to, the more you find to listen to, so once you get to a certain point it's a bit of a self-perpetuating thing. That said, i do have some tips, and a lot of them will be really basic but i'm writing this more as a general thing for people who want to listen to more / different music but don't know where to start:

something that really helps (and especially helped when i was first getting suuuuuper into music listening and criticism as a main hobby of mine (i used to write actual full length reviews instead of the tiny capsules i do on twitter lol)) is just lists! As bullshit as stuff like Rolling Stone's "500 Greatest Albums of All Time" or the p4k decade lists are, they're undoubtably great overviews of things from the perspective of each outlet that puts them out, and i definitely only got into certain bands or albums because they were canonized in some way or another. plus, if one outlet's lists seem to vibe with you consistently well (for example, Tiny Mix Tapes' decade and year end lists are so very much my shit that i'd listen to almost everything on them) you can follow that site and see what they're reviewing and liking now (RIP TMT for many reasons but losing this especially from them was a bummer for me)

in addition, more narrow lists are great for if you want to get into something specific but don't know where to start. a lot of times, if i want to check out a specific genre but don't know anything about it, i'll check out the RYM "top 5" of whatever that genre is (RYM has its own clear biases and limitations, but especially for smaller microgenres i find it a super helpful starting point) or i'll literally just google "best reggaton albums of all time" or something similar and check out the albums everyone is recommending. canonization is problematic, but by looking into what the majority of people have come to call the best of a certain style or genre or period of time can give you an idea of what the tropes and characteristics of something are, and you can branch out from there if you see yourself digging at least parts of it.

from there, once i have a good starting point, i will both look up smaller / more personal lists (individual people's "best of" lists are always way more interesting than ones multiple people voted on because there's nearly always a curveball or two) and dive deep on both "suggested" similar bands as well as looking into the label or people they made music with, other projects by the same creators, etc., and that can get you quickly off the mainstream road and into fun little sidestreets.

then, last but not least, i will literally just search bandcamp or a music torrent site (by which of course i mean a place where you completely legally buy music and never pirate it) for a specific tag or genre or year and download the ones with covers i like lol. this is way more likely to lead you to mediocre or bad music, but like, that fairy pop album by diana starshine i loved last year i found exactly by searching for i think "hyperpop" on bandcamp. i saw the cover, liked it, checked out a few tracks, and voila. it's shallow and doesn't pay off all the time, but honestly it's been surprisingly successful for me in the past (except when it comes to post 00's j-pop, for some reason many of the best j-pop album covers contain some of its blandest music).

idk if any of that helps but yeah

[yokasaris]

Just me rambling (a lot), but I want to have it for posterity’s sake. Just in case.   tldr: pet illness/death, overly dramatic ramblings, maybe goodbye finally, doesn’t mean much to nonfriends so feel free to not read on

I mostly just use this blog for myself these days, and even then only half hearted (I did Rae’s yearly little drawing for his nameday! but no one will see it because... what’s the point, i already have it for myself i guess). So, even then a lot of my reblogs have just been related to black cats. Rae only became a fluffy black-furred miqo because of my own cat, and my efforts in RL trying to help people overcome prejudices about these animals (because I live in an area that’s like 50 years behind the rest of the USA most of the time). I love this cat so much. The shelter called him Elvis, but I changed it immediately to Ellis (my own birthname is “related to music” and my social anxiety can’t stand it when people I barely know start serenading me unprompted in public). I’ve never had a pet I’ve bonded with entirely because I’m just... a cold feckin robot that can’t connect with anything. I mostly adopted him because I felt bad for him. He was consistently ganged up on by the other cats at the shelter and no one wanted him because he was one of a handful of fully grown black cats and had the “worst” personality of the bunch. As soon as I brought him home it became apparent that he was sick. He had hyperthyroidism, and it was... a lot considering I was working minimum wage. I don’t even go to the doctor myself anymore because of the expenses unless things progress to the point where I have to go. A few years later, he developed an insulin resistance as well. Both endocrine diseases and one of his medications all had side effects that make him sick off and on, and of course balancing everything means frequent vet visits. There have been many times where I wasn’t sure what to do in regards to his healthcare and I didn’t make the best calls every time, but we’ve pulled through with the help of his awesome vet. And he got so... comfortable. For the first few years he mostly kept to himself, but over time he started getting more confident and affectionate. I was lucky that he takes pills and the shots like a champ because he has to take them twice a day every day. He learned how to play! I can pick him up and give him little smooches between the ears and he’s okay with it! He’ll curl up with me to watch cooking shows or when I play vidya games! He started purring! With so much shit happening over the past half decade, this little dude has been my reason to keep going. He’s the reason I get out of bed a lot of the time (also literally because he wakes me up for his meds now). A while ago (maybe a year or two?) the vet said he believed he had either lymphoma or a non-life threatening bowel issue. It was impossible to tell which it was without an invasive biopsy, which was out of the question due to his other health issues. So, I’ve known for a while that it was possible he didn’t have much longer to live. A few months back he really started having issues stemming from this problem. And yet... I chanced to try giving him a different food about a month ago and! suddenly! he got better! I thought that meant he definitely didn’t have cancer and it was the irritation instead. Besides, he was gaining weight now! It’s always been hard for him to put on weight, but he was looking healthier than he has in a very long time. Yet a couple weeks ago I started keeping a closer eye on him due to a few reasons (I had to leave a few XIV events early because of this, and I apologize).

This past weekend he started deteriorating.

What I thought was healthy weight gain was fluid build up in his abdomen due to, yes, lymphoma. So, at least it’s finally a concrete diagnosis. All the vets present agreed there was nothing they could do, so they removed as much of the fluid as they could and gave him some meds to make him feel better. Thursday his vet will back in, so we’ll be taking him in to be put to sleep. Took a shower as soon as I was home because can’t be sad, no one’s allowed to be sad and at least no one would notice the feckin horrid crying. I don’t know when I’ve actually cried like really cried last. I’d been ready for the possibility he’d die for so long, but I’d discarded that mentality when I naively thought for a moment that I knew better than the vet. But, he’s getting all the cuddles when he doesn’t want to be left alone, and he’s going to get his favorite treat meals these last couple of days (tuna Tuesday and chicken+ rice Wednesday). I’ll bring him one of my blankets when we finally have to go, and I’ll hold him as the sedatives put him under before they actually put him to sleep. Because this lil furball is the only thing tangible that reminds me there’s something good here, and I want to try and make him as happy and comfy as I can. After... I’m not sure. There’s nothing else here for me. The farm’s gone. My last link to anything and anyone tying me here is about to be gone. I want to go, but I don’t know where and there’s no place that I can fathom thriving. There’s no prospects, no ambitions or dreams. It’s something I’ve had on the mind for a long time, ever since I was first told Ellis was possibly terminally ill. I’ve just been... coasting through life ever since knowing I’d have to find some kind of purpose eventually. I can’t make any decisions right now because I don’t think this is the proper state of mind to decide anything, though. But, I don’t know. Maybe this is finally how I can let this blog go. I don’t know if I can handle all these lovely droves of absolutely amazing black cats I am so lucky to see on my dash every time I log in. Sometimes they’re funny, sometimes they’re cute. But, they’re fantastic every time. It pains me that there’s going to be one less of these lil critters around, but at least I can know that Ellis was one of the lucky ones who managed to find a loving home. So, maybe for the final time... black cats are good cats.

#ooc stuff #maybe i'll come crawling back one day #if i'm too coward to move on #but we'll see #we'll see #be good to each other and take care #black cats are good cats

[dmarchives]

I wrote a whole ass essay on the new songs in a reddit comment, figured I'd crosspost:

Warning: this comment lived its own life and is very long and grumpy. I yell at clouds because they just don't make 'em like they used to.

Yeah, I'm Norwegian. And I love this band, I don't want to sour the mood. Especially since I'm the type of fan that never likes anything new right away. It's true for every book series, show, and band I've ever been into. But I've also missed this band every single day for a decade (I know I sound hyperbolic, but really, I have), and I feel let down. So I'm gonna break my two rules of the internet: Never let it get you in a bad mood and never say anything you wouldn't say to someone's face. Here's the thing:

- DGDEN was just not the sound I was expecting. It sounds like the solo artist Janove we've seen the past decade, with a Kaizers guitar riff jammed in to distract you from the fact that this isn't a Kaizers song. However, the song has grown on me, like they always do. The riff slams. It's still not my favorite, though.

- Kaleidoskophimmel doesn't bode well. It's a Violeta reject and a ballad. Nothing wrong with a ballad, but they usually don't put them front and center like that because they rarely find them to be their most interesting work. The fact that the song from the (rumored) new album they chose as a single is a reject ballad has me worried what the rest is gonna be like.

- It takes an agonizing 2 minutes and 24 seconds for Kaleidoskophimmel to even lift off the ground. And honestly, that single liftoff is the only exciting thing happening here. It's repetitive, musically bland and uninteresting. I can't think of a single other Kaizers song I'd ever describe as either of those things. Even the longest Volum3 songs have a drive to them, Kaleidoskophimmel doesn't.

It all boils down to this: For over a decade, KO had fans that were so devoted to them that people moved to Norway, learned Norwegian, created a forum/social media site for other fans to use, and we used it. a. lot. Some went to well over a thousand concerts and became so familiar faces that the band could pick them out in a crowd of thousands. I went to my first concert when I was eleven. The next 5 years I spent convincing my parents to chaperone me to "just one more, dad, pleeeaaase?" I was devastated when they were gone.

We waited. For a decade. And then they came back. When they released their tickets, fans spent millions. The Oslo concerts alone brought in 38,4 million kroner on ticket sales. Three more cities, but I don't know the capacity of the venues, so I can't do the math on those.

Honestly, after all that, I think we deserve more than a Janove song and a Violeta reject. We've been loyal to them, and I feel let down.

However, I've always been a grumpy goose. I've never liked change. And of course they've changed, it's been ten years. They're allowed to grow, I know. But they still have good taste and good ears, and I don't buy for a second that they think those songs are up to par. And they went ahead with them anyway. Which feels kind of like a betrayal.

#kaizers orchestra #my boys #bands #rant

[tutuandscoot]

Favourite Photos Series

Part 2:

📍SFTD SD (Practice) SCI 2017/Nationals 2018

(plus some parallels)

So I have this really firm setting in my head with them- in that the nature of what they do- how their sport works, it is broken into 4 year cycles, highlighted by and Olympics.

They were age wise adults at every one of their Olympics- ranging from 20-30 across 3 Olympiad. They were mature adults through every part of their senior career- even still as teenagers mature beyond their years, but I break each of their Olympics into 3 stages of life:

In 2010: they were kids, babies if you will. At ages 20 + 22 they were well into early adulthood, of legal age (T in 🇨🇦) having lived away from home for over 7 years, but on the ice, through this experience, they were just babies. They hadn’t realised their own potential, they didn’t know, couldn’t have comprehended the magnitude of what they had achieved. Through their performances they were ageless, simply two moving figures completely intertwined with each other, seemingly controlling the music that everyone heard rather than simply skating to a recorded track. But in what little of their young lives they had lived thus far, there they stood on top of their world they had concurred. By their own admission they were babies just there to skate their best, knowing their best would reward them well.

In 2014: they were teenagers. Numerically in their mid twenties but navigating through a tumultuous world cracking around them. Trying to grasp for control of whatever they could. For many of us in general that time in your life where nothing goes your way and you’re just trying to get through each day. Life is getting harder and the whimsy and naïvety of childhood is lost as we begin to see that the world around us is not of our own design. Hearts are broken, we are deceived by those we trusted most, and we are drawn closer to the people we realise we can’t live without. Their world was more insulate, yet all the eyes of the world were focusing in on them- these champions returning to regain their crowns. They had to employ all they had learned through 17 years together to voyage through what should’ve been familiar territory, but was really rough, unknown waters they hoped would stay in a distant past. Beyond all the uncontrollable corruption they were fearing this journey of their’s could be reaching it end. Their fairytale world with have created for each other would have to close it’s last page it would be time to become real adults, but in known to them, not able to be foreseen through the storm they faced in Sochi, really were they only beginning to blossom into the beautiful artists the world would need to see.

In 2018: they were Adults. They had grown up. Already a decade into what most determine to be of mature age, there they were. Confident, unashamed, sensitive, sensual, delicate yet formidable, at a place of inner piece both within themselves and each other.

Those who idolise them can point to several moments throughout their career and time together and find something inherently about them that was always there that just made them so special, such sweethearts, seemingly completely in love. We can point to their unmatched skating skills and drool at their edges and versatility. We were taken away in a dream -like mirage with Mahler, then only 3 years later, the very same angels had us stunned and turned on when they came out with Carmen. But when the 2017/18 season hit, I think it was clear something in them was truly different. It was there in the comeback year but when they skated out in those costumes for SFTD I think we knew we were seeing the fully realised VirtueMoir.

The lingering touches and looks, the handholds and the cradling hugs, it was all there, it had always been there but now it was like… there was just no fear anymore. Of course they were probably still terrified- scared they weren’t good enough, scared they would fail each other.. but removed from all that, they just weren’t scared to be themselves anymore. It’s that merging of the humans and the artists that in that last season just came together in such a mesmerising way. In such a naked, exposed, ‘we are what we are and we’re are here to leave it all out because we didn’t come this far to still be the shy little kiddos holding hands and skating by the boards we were too short to see over’. They were in love with being together and creating this stunning athletic art everyday, and what we saw when we oohed and ahhhed at all the suggestive touching and adorable cuddling was two people who shared such and unashamed inner peace as adults who had lived a beautiful journey shared only together.

All those things are why this is a favourite picture. It shows off all of that. Beyond the smouldering sensuality, slightly parted lips, perfect skin, soft holding of each other’s beings. This man and woman in love on such an indefinable, incomprehensible level, everything and that lead them to this physical and emotional existence.

Whenever they performed SFTD, were practicing or just in the mode of this program, it was just so obvious- the confidence, the intent, the acknowledgment of each other’s sexuality and no fear in going after each other like animals on the savannah. It was like with their programs this year they had come of age. So many years of fighting to define themselves, and yet it came back to their pure at heart humanity they had shared with each other for so long. The baby-faced, golden lovebirds from 2010. The prince and princess who fought through heart break in 2014. And now, this man and woman, this power couple, accepting of the fact that well into adulthood, having spent over 20 years together side by side, were content with the fact no definition could do their connection justice. It’s partly what got them this far in a sport so complicated and corrupt it didn’t deserve their kind, angelic souls. They had realised themselves and weren’t going to let anyone else define them anymore. That weight had been lifted and they were free to be these humans who could somehow create magic on a simple sheet of ice.

Part 1 Part 2

#favourite photo series #part 2

[kozubaby]

Date Night

Keishin Ukai x Reader

Also posted Here

“Wait, but don’t you have practice with the kids tonight?” You asked as Ukai pulled you along to his car.

“Eh, Takeda can handle it just this once. Come on, let me take you out. It’s been too long.”

You nodded and smiled softly at him before sliding in and putting your seatbelt on. He jogged over to the driver’s side after closing the door for you and climbed in. After turning the car on, he let the top down and pulled on a pair of sunglasses. 

“Shall we, sweet thing?” 

He drove you into the city where you grabbed some delicious street food and ate in the car, watching the sun go down from a prime spot in an empty parking lot. You hadn’t allowed yourself to admit it until now, but you really missed him. He spent so much time coaching those amazing kids, and they were thriving with his help, but that meant lots of evenings and weekends alone at home. It was worth it, though. You’d never seen Ukai so motivated or generally fulfilled.

“Sweet thing, you’re staring at me.” Ukai smirked, pointing it out in that gravelly tone from years of smoking you’d only recently convinced him to stop doing. Of course you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of admitting your blatant staring, so you rolled your eyes, sucking your teeth and turned away. He could see the playful color in your gestures, though and wasn’t even remotely offended.

“You know I love a headstrong woman, sweet thing, don’t tempt me.” He leaned over and kissed your cheek, lingering close to your ear. “I can always pull the top back up, and we can handle business in the backseat.” The way you gasped and covered your mouth was damn near embarrassing, but a series of flashing lights served as a much needed distraction as cars started to pull into the parking lot. You could hear music blaring from sound systems and people whooping and hollering excitedly.

“Babe, what is this parking lot for?” You wondered aloud as more and more people parked and started climbing out of their cars.

“Ah that would be the second half of our date. Come on, let’s get in early and find a spot.” He reached into the back seat and grabbed a duffle bag before hopping out of the car. You hurriedly followed him, hearing the alarm beep behind you and merging with the rest of the forming crowd. 

Once close enough, you could hear music bumping loudly from inside, mid-2000s hip hop you hadn’t heard in ages. The neon flashing lights and chaotic-patterned carpet were what really gave it away for you.

“A roller rink? Keishin, I haven’t been in a pair of skates in years.” You explained as the nostalgia of your young adult years flooded your brain.

“I know. I saw those pictures of you from a decade ago and thought I had to see you in action.” He paid and led you past the skate-rental desk to a carpeted bench just like the ones at your old rink.

“Hey, don’t we need skates?”

“Gotcha covered, sweet thing.” He dropped the dufflebag to the floor and unzipped it, pulling out two large shoe boxes and handing one to you. “Hope they’re the right size.”

You scrambled to open your box as excitement took over your senses, and inside, you found a pair of custom skates, black and hand-painted with sunflowers, just like the pair you’d worn all those years again.

“...Kei…” You didn’t know what to say as you ran for fingers over the details. Ukai only smirked at you and pulled his own skates on before bending down to help you into yours, tying the laces around the back like you used to do to stop them from catching in the wheels. 

“Ready?” He stood, reaching a hand out to you.

“Wait, I haven’t skated in so long I-”

“It’s like riding a bike, baby. You never really forget. Anyways, I’ll keep you on your feet.” Ukai could be so damn smooth, and he knew what that did to you. You rolled your eyes as you took his hands, and immediately he started skating backwards, pulling you onto the polished, lacquered wood of the rink where other patrons were already speeding by.

And he didn’t let you falter once as you got reacquainted to the skates and the flow. At some point, he let go of you and skated circles around you, playful but also making sure that you were completely steady until you were completely comfortable. You turned to skate backwards, and he complimented your skills, although you were definitely more impressed with his.

When the music changed and the DJ announced adult couples only for the next few minutes, you recognized the old RnB song, even remembering the choreography the old couples at the rink used to do. Ukai approached you, taking your hand and spinning you around until your back was to his chest. 

“I know you know the choreo, sweet thing, so show me whatchu got.” He spoke low and rich in your ear before swaying back and forth, signaling the start of the sequence. He matched your every move, sliding his hand along your stomach or tapping your hip as you glided around the rink so effortlessly, skates in sync and never clashing, bodies feeling the beat of the music and the heat of each other. You spun and broke apart for a footwork section and came back together toe-to-toe before the sequence started over until the DJ announced ‘free skate’ was back on.

You skated together until the last song, Keishin whispering sweet nothings in your ear and making you feel like the only ones on the rink, until finally it was time to pack up and go home. You carefully placed your skates back in the box and then in the duffle for Ukai to carry out.

“Did you have fun, sweet thing?” He asked, grabbing your swinging hand as you made it across the parking lot and to his convertible. 

“Yeah, that was amazing. I didn’t realize how much I missed it.” You climbed into the passenger seat and settled in for the ride home.

“Good, because you and I have a standing date every other week at the rink. No matter what, I’m making time for us from now on.” He leaned over to kiss you lovingly before giving you a dazzling smile, starting the car.

#keishin ukai #keishin ukai x reader #ukai x reader #keishin calls you sweet thing #ukai is so smooth #of course he would take you roller skating #ignore the inconsistencies in time and place #haikyuu drabbles

[the-heaminator]

October 26th, Historical, Hurt/comfort. I mean i think it still counts even if they're both murdering bitches left and right, but sometimes have bad dreams about it. Not nations but they're something else that's not human either. TW GORE

@gereng-week

Flashes of blood, first red and viscous quickly becoming brown and sticky, cacking to everything it could, clothing especially, whites becoming stained and darker garments having acquired another rather questionable stain, the worst was the laughter, sometimes it was giggling, sometimes it was full on laughter.

It was quite deranged most of the time, and Arthur knew it, of course being the origin of that laughter, he took pleasure from murder, he had been shoulder deep in blood since almost the day he appeared on this godless planet, and over time he had grown to accept his role as a government directed killing machine. One who could be set onto anybody the current regime didn't approve of.

It could be his own people, it could be migrants, it could be people in a far off land, but he never said no. He grew to enjoy the thrill of the kill, the adrenaline pumping through his arteries and veins as he took the life of some mortal. It was a way to stay sane, that was what he used to tell himself, though his sanity at all times is questionable, but during those times even more so.

There were certain times too, often the government had not enough targets for him to brutally slaughter, so he hunted for his own, they were the best ones, obsessing over everytiny detail to make their brutal murder seem to have nothing to do with him.

The oddest thing happened one day when he found out through his network that someone, someone just like him, one of the few chosen for this path, and he wanted to do to him what he did to others.

It didn't concern him as much as it should've to a normal human, but they weren't normal, not in any shape or form, and meeting in a tavern had led to many more things than either could have ever imagined.

They exchanged names, or at least the ones that they went by as of current, Arthur and Ludwig. Ludwig was not new to this business per say, he was a good few decades old despite looking barely 20, but it was nothing compared to the centuries that Arthur had under his well worn belt.

They were chosen almost at random, they had been for millenia now, then they were to immediately be cast out from their settlements and sent to wander the streets till they found their calling. The calling for most were oppressive regimes in which they thrived on the bloodshed and confusion that was rife on the streets, plus they looked exactly the same as a normal person, thus adding to their disguise.

The only thing that would even slightly give them away were their speech patterns, often seeming far older than their faces, the more alert of the public would recognise this and either see them for what they are (though that was growing increasingly rare) most just assume that they're an oddity.

Ludwig preferred blunt force trauma for the first few blows, a brick to the cranium, a crowbar to the nasal cavity, even a blunt axe to the sternum, the sound of bones cracking and people screaming bloody murder (while they still could) such music to his ears. He then often used chains or ropes to bind the body far past the realms of the living, twisting heads where they are unable to go whilst still, popping joints out of sockets with practised ease, quite often even snapping bones like twigs and carrying them off as if it was nothing

Arthur preferred knives, whether they be a cleaver, a machete or one of surgical prediction, he preferred them over getting his own hands dirty, his craft being honed over the centuries, first he used the thinner more precise knives over essential arteries and veins such as the pulmonary vein and the aorta, being so thin that the victim barely realised that they had been cut in two of the most valuable pieces of human piping inside their flesh bags. He then moved on to the larger knives, meat cleavers being a favourite due to the way they sliced through flesh and bone being unparalleled by any other knife, the closest thing that could come to it would be an axe, and they were quite unwieldy in his opinion.

The viscera pouring out of a large gash made by a knife in the side, intestines still oozing mush and stomach leaking hydrochloric acid all over the ruined insides, making it even less recognisable. The pancreas in its bright yellow glory standing out like a sore thumb amongst a sea of pink and red, the viscera was still warm infact, you could feel the organs twitching on occasion, like they still had life in them. The person they were performing a vivisection on had been killed only minutes before, as neither liked the feel of cold organs and caking blood, no one did, so they extracted what they wanted quickly and efficiently.

The adrenaline of the moment outweighed the horrible night terrors they got, though it was a very fine balance, sometimes seeing beloved family members as lifeless, gutted corpses on the ground (though they most likely have died anyhow, of old age while the chosen ones lived far longer) with their own sick faces laughing over the bodies, sometimes seeing themselves morph into terrifying beats of the night, whispering unintelligible words at the dead of night.

 Though it had become better for both after they had started to share a bed, the soothing words coming from the same people who brutally killed people when they wished was odd, but then again, who was there to see them, their government caring very little about what they did as long as they did their bidding when needed, so nobody questioned them sleeping in the same bed, living together as they did, much as nobody questioned the splattered blood in dank alleyways.

Whisperings of comfort in their cold dark beds to stave away nightmares full of blood and gore, holding eachother tight, completely unlike the decades, even century old beings that they were.

#Hws England #Hws Germany #Gereng #gereng week 2022 #Au of some kind #The heam writes #Yes I wrote this in one sitting how could you tell #Tw gore #Tw violence #Jesus fuck that's a lot of blood

[ashtrayfloors]

Two weeks ago, I drove down to Kenosha to hang out with my bestie. I was so happy just to be driving down my favorite highway, listening to the ‘ultimate summertime jams’ mix I made nearly a decade ago.

We met outside her apartment and then meandered all around the Kenosha marina/harbor area. There was a Kenosha Pride event happening, and we stopped by for a while. It was so good to see so many diverse families, and of course to be around all the rad queerdos. We watched a bit of a drag performance; there were so many fabulous kings and queens, including a—well, I won’t call them a bioqueen because they might very well be nonbinary—but an AFAB queen. I just love seeing people of various AGABs playing with gender in whatever way they want to, you know? We danced a bit, I flirted with some cute queers, they flirted back. A lot of people probably assumed L. and I were a couple. People have often assumed that about us, and they’re not entirely wrong—we used to date, and have been lovers on and off throughout various points in our 22 years of friendship. But it was just nice to be in a setting where, if people assumed we were a couple, that was a positive thing. Unlike ye olde days, out at the pub, when some drunk dude would try to hit on both of us, get rejected, and then call us dykes in an angry manner.

We passed by Common Grounds, and she told me that it’s closing at the end of August, because they don’t have enough employees to staff it, amongst other reasons. I’ll be sad to see it go; I have over two decades of memories in that place. So many of my favorite places—venues, bars, cafes, book and record shops—have closed over the last decade. It started well before the pandemic, but the pandemic has only exacerbated it. You think I’d be used to it by now, but it never ceases to break my heart.

We walked some more, by the hazy lake, saw some street art, watched the clouds roll in. We decided to stop for a drink and a snack at Ashling (I keep wanting to spell it Aisling, as it should, by rights, be spelled) on the Lough, an Irish bar/restaurant we’d both heard good things about but that neither of us had ever been to. We’d initially considered going to one of our old haunts because Ashling on the Lough is more expensive than our usual dives, but I was like: “Fuck it, I never get to go out, let’s do something new.” And as it turned out, it was Happy Hour when we got there, so the drinks and appetizers were cheaper than they would have been otherwise. We shared the drunken mushrooms appetizer—mushrooms sautéed in a delicious boozy cream and herb sauce, served with garlic toasts. I drank a Johnny Jump Up. Because it’s a perfect summertime drink, and because “Doublewhiskeycokenoice” was on my ultimate summertime jams mix.

We sat at an outdoor table, took our time, talking, eating, drinking. One of the waiters (not our waiter, alas), was dangerously attractive, dark Irish, reminded me very much of someone from my past. I tried to not make it too obvious that I was checking him out, but then I happened to glance at him at one point and noticed he was checking me out. And he saw me seeing him, and he fucking winked at me. In a very sexy, non-creepy way.

Oh, flirting is so good for my soul.

We meandered more, back to her apartment. I mostly only have outdoor encounters (or indoor and masked encounters) with people these days, but her job makes her CoViD test every week, so I felt relatively safe about it. She showed me what her apartment looks like now, since J. has moved out. We listened to music, had another drink, and talked about sex. 

Then it was time for me to head home. Back to Highway 32, trains to the left of me, the lake to the right, bees humming in the chicory, the clouds getting dark-heavy and bringing a smattering of rain. “Baba O’Riley” came on my ultimate summertime mix, and oh, that song, it is the ultimate any time of year; I go crazy every time I hear it.

I got home, ate dinner with my family, then C. and I went outside to play catch-and-release with the lightning bugs. And then the sky broke open, and we ran inside and watched out the window as the lightning flashed purple across the sky.

The next half-week was filled with work, exercise, sadness, sex, reading, playing with the kiddos, grilling. Some days I woke up early to get a jog in before the hottest part of the day arrived. Then I had a couple really bad chronic pain/chronic illness days when basically all I could do was the bare minimum of work and life stuff I had to do, and spent the rest of my time reading and daydreaming.

D. went up to Door County with my parents on Wednesday, then, two days later, P. and C. and I drove up to join them. By the time we drove up, my chronic pain and illness were even worse, and it continued for a few days into our vacation. Sometimes I think I can’t really claim that I’m disabled. Much like me telling myself I couldn’t really be trans because my dysphoria isn’t debilitating 24/7/365, and in fact is nonexistent a lot of the time, I do the same thing with my disabilities. But then I have times like the week before last/early last week, when my ankles, knees, and wrists are all acting up/require me to wear braces, and my chronic sinus issues are having a flare-up, and I’m like oh.

Side note: pretty much all I ever wanna do is write or fuck or have adventures, and I get super pissed when my disabilities prevent me from doing those things.

The trip to Door County was pretty good, despite all that.

Milwaukee was gorgeous as we drove through, the tops of the tallest buildings and the snakes of freeway ramps rising above the low-lying clouds; the beer line breweries shrouded in fog.

Our first night in D.C., I noticed that it stayed light about an hour later there than it does here in SE WI, and I’m sure I’ve noticed it before (after all, I’ve been going there almost every summer since I was 13), but I never made the connection. Of course it stays lighter later—it’s nearly 200 miles further north! (Which means it also gets darker earlier in winter, o’course.)

The afternoon of our first full day there, P. and I drove down to Sturgeon Bay to meet up with my friend E. We met through poetry nights at the library in the summer of 2001, when she still lived here and I was living back here briefly in between my time in Evanston and moving to Chicago proper. Then we lost touch for years, but then encountered each other again through poetry events in Milwaukee back in 2016, and were fast friends, before we even realized—hey, I know you! She was one of the last friends I got to hang out with in early 2020, before lockdown happened. She moved up to the DoorCo area in early 2021, and she works in Sturgeon Bay. She is one of those friends I think of as being a lot like me, but also a lot unlike me; sort of like we’re opposite sides of the same coin, if that makes sense. It was so good to see her. We talked astrology and (anti)capitalism and neurodivergence, gender and tattoos and ghosts.

We went to Within Things Curiosity Shop, one of my favorite places, which I hadn’t been to in three years. I set myself a limit of $40 before I went in, because otherwise I could easily go broke in that place. Had I had unlimited funds, I would’ve come away with a rare edition of Brautigan’s In Watermelon Sugar, some artist stamps by Nick Blinko of Rudimentary Peni, and a deluxe vinyl edition Karen Dalton box set, but, alas, I don’t have unlimited funds. I found a beautiful set of moon phase oracle cards, and snatched those up right away, and I thought that might be all I would get, but then I heard the music playing. It was haunting and ethereal and witchy and beautiful and sad, so: “Excuse me,” I said to the man working, “may I ask what music is playing?” It was Fovea Hex. He told me a bit about the band and about their frontwoman, Clodagh Simonds, and I thought the name sounded familiar but couldn’t quite place it, and then it hit me—she did that beautiful cover of “Cockles and Mussels” with Matmos! They had copies of the Fovea Hex album at the store, so I picked up a copy of that, too.

Funnily enough, if C. had been an AFAB baby, Clodagh was one of the names on the table. That or Grainne. D. would’ve been Fiona. I never understand parents who get upset when their kid turns out to be trans and wants to change their name. If either of my kids tells me that they’re trans and want a more feminine name, I will tell them the other names we might have given them. Of course they’re free to choose something entirely different, and I wouldn’t even be hurt, but if they did choose one of their almost-names, how cool would that be, to get to name your child twice?

We left Within Things, walked around a bit more (as much as I could on my fucked-up ankle and knee). E. showed us some haunted places of Sturgeon Bay, and as we passed by one of the most haunted ones, a big moth appeared seemingly out of nowhere and landed on me.

Other things from the trip to Door County: crows everywhere, cedar waxwings in the cedar, the camphoraceous smell of cedar, garter snakes slithering in and out among the rocks, the sound of owls and coyotes in the night. Drive-in movies, good food and drink, portals to otherworlds. Sex with P.; sneaking outside late night after sex to stargaze.

The evening we had dinner and drinks (outdoors) at Barringers, they were playing really good music, like, my music. At one point it was Neko Case (“I’m So Tired”) followed by Kate Bush (“Running Up That Hill”), and I was like, please, gods, don’t let me get all emotional and start crying in front of my family and all these strangers, because how would I even explain?

The drive home was kind of awful. C. got carsick, he and D. both had to pee every ten minutes, so there was a lot of stopping. Still, there was the light beaming through breaks in the clouds, and an amazing interaction at a Kwik Trip in Sheboygan. I was in a bathroom stall with C., saying to him: “Hopefully this is the last stop on the trip, because I’d like to get home eventually.” And when we emerged from the stall, there was a beautiful girl there, who had obviously overheard, and she just smiled and said: “Good luck on your travels, mama.” What made it all the more potent is that she was standing right near the used-needle drop. (I don’t think she’d actually been using it, it’s just that the drop was right near the door.) That’s an experience that needs to go in a poem. It also sounds like something from a Hold Steady song: She was the most beautiful girl in Sheboygan / She was standing right next to the sharps bin / She said: “Good luck on your travels, mama” / I don’t know what she meant / But she must’ve meant something. 

Since we got back, it’s been: work, more work, constant horniness, good sex with P.(though never as much as I’d like), exercising when I can, gardening (the jasmine is in full bloom, the tomatoes are doing so well, the pumpkins are going to take over the yard so yes, we will have the most sincere pumpkin patch). There’s been stress, sadness, hard conversations with P., hard times with the kiddos but also sweet times.

We’ve reached the time of year where it’s unbearably hot and humid without the A/C on, but the A/C makes my sinuses even worse than they usually are, so I have to choose between being a comfortable temperature and not being in excruciating sinus pain. It ain’t fun.

Tonight was the Bikini Kill concert I bought tickets to in December 2019, that was supposed to happen in May 2020 but was postponed several times, and I wasn’t there. I miss live music, and I really did want to see Bikini Kill, but with the new super-contagious CoViD variant + the rise in monkeypox cases, I just don’t wanna do anything that involves being in a room crowded with people. I felt only a small pang of sadness that I couldn’t go. Mostly I was pissed that I didn’t make the decision until after the ticket-refund cutoff, because I really could’ve used that money.

There was a time when not being able to go to a show or something else I’d planned on going to could’ve caused a meltdown or a depression-spiral, but the past two and a half years of CoViD + my worsening disabilities have basically killed my FOMO. These days, I am better able to appreciate what I can do, less apt to get upset over what I can’t. (Most of the time. I still have my moments.)

This afternoon the humidity dropped and a nice breeze picked up, so we were able to turn the A/C off and open the windows. I spent most of the afternoon and early evening outside, alternating between writing and playing with the kiddos. We made homemade pizza for dinner tonight, and cooked it on the grill. This next week is all about busting my ass to get my chapbook manuscript in to the publisher, and finishing my current proofreading job so I can pay rent + bills. August is looking pretty good. I’ll be getting paid a good chunk of money to house and dog-sit for a friend for a few days, so I’ll probably only have to take on one small proofreading job to cover the rest,  and I can spend the rest of my time in August finishing my zine and working on other things I haven’t had time to do in a while, like stuff for the press, and writing letters to all the people I owe letters to.

There’s more to say, there’s always more, but I’ll leave it at that for now.

#lightningstruckitself #dear livejournal #look i just really don't feel like obsessively tagging this one #i don't think there's anything too bad in it but #read at your own risk #also if there's something you want tagged just #ask to tag

[pidge-poetry]

Foals’ Yannis Philippakis: ‘The internet should’ve killed us’

The wildmen of rock are back with a new album, Life Is Yours. Their frontman talks resilience and the strangest house party ever

Dan Cairns | Sunday June 12 2022, 12.01am BST, The Sunday Times

You sense quickly that Yannis Philippakis is a stranger to moderation. Never mind the hair-raising legends of havoc at the house parties the 36-year-old lead singer of Foals and his band played in their early days. The giveaway is how Philippakis is staring at my pack of rolling tobacco.

The man who mainlines adrenaline and thinks nothing of diving into the crowd or scaling lighting rigs during live shows is regretting his decision to stop smoking. “It was ridiculous, I was hitting 60 a day,” he frets. “I went to Greece after we finished recording the album with a 30-a-day habit and it just skyrocketed — I was chain smoking. But I can’t just do, say, five a day.”

Heroically resisting the urge to lapse, Philippakis muses on Foals’s longevity. Over the course of six platinum-selling albums and festival headline slots that have the atmosphere of revivalist meetings, he and the alt-rock/pop band he co-founded in Oxford 17 years ago have blazed their own particular trail.

Foals have built — and maintained — a fanatical following that was seeded when the internet was only flickering. They are, the singer suggests, “an anomaly”, a sort of highbrow Coldplay. On their new album, Life Is Yours, you’ll find references to a “Duchenne smile” and ambergris (a perfume ingredient from the digestive system of sperm whales), which are not the sorts of things you tend to encounter in Chris Martin’s lyrics.

Artists two decades into their careers aren’t supposed to be making music as vibrant, fresh and inventive as Foals’ — the more common story is one of steady decline. “We haven’t sold our skin,” the singer says. “That’s kind of rare now. We don’t talk about it, but there is sometimes this feeling of surprise, like, ‘Wow, we’ve got this massive tour coming up.’ It’s been an unusual trajectory. The internet should have killed us off but it hasn’t. Who knows, though, the digital reaper may be just round the corner.”

The band have lost two of their five founding members in the past four years, both apparently amicable partings. The bassist Walter Gervers, who, like the guitarist Jimmy Smith, attended Abingdon, the same private school as Radiohead, left in 2018. Three years later the keyboardist Edwin Congreave quit to do a postgraduate degree in economics. (Which is somehow very Foals; Philippakis abandoned an English degree at St John’s, Oxford, and bought an old Royal Mail van to cart the band around in.)

So Life Is Yours is the work of a three-piece — and sounds, appropriately, leaner and more taut than the two-part, overblown Everything Not Saved Will Be Lost of 2019.

“To me, what was important about the band was the feeling of family, of solidarity,” Philippakis says. “When people leave, it obviously wounds that image in some ways. I’m still figuring out Walter’s departure . . . he was our glue, our Jimmy Whispers.”

Yannis Philippakis of Foals on stage during Rock am Ring in Nuerburg, Germany | GINA WETZLER/REDFERNS

Life Is Yours combines the crisp beats, bright staccato guitar and dance grooves that are Foals trademarks with lyrics that are at once elegiac and escapist. The song Looking High is key, a track Philippakis describes as “clubby and nostalgic . . . But then, within the lyrics, there’s that twist: all the clubs have closed down — you have nightlife, club culture, one of the greatest things about life in Britain, being ravaged by government, Covid, property developers. We’re not there, our friends aren’t there, the place itself is now a ghost.”

You can draw a straight line between the young tyros who used to pack out sweat-soaked Oxford venues such as the Wheatsheaf and the band who will headline Latitude festival next month. The energy Philippakis bristles with helps to explain why Foals are one of the great live acts in this country. They bring the spirit of those riotous early house parties to their national tours, no matter how vast the arenas.

But there is one legendary and decidedly less raucous event from their very early days that they don’t emulate, when a house-party booking went pear-shaped. “There was just one guy with his two mates,” Philippakis says, “and for some reason his mum’s pasta salad was on the table, though she wasn’t in the room. I’ll always remember that plate. I mean, we played a few songs, but when we left we were like, ‘F***ing hell, that’s got to be the strangest house party ever.’”

Yet Foals do occasionally try to play the modern music game, even if you sense that, rather sweetly, their hearts aren’t in it. The band recently launched a hot honey sauce to a recipe devised by the drummer Jack Bevan and named after one of their albums, Holy Fire. Foals as entrepreneurs? No, probably not.

Life Is Yours is out on Friday; Foals play Latitude on Jul 23

Watch the video with Yannis and Jimmy talking about 2am and read the article on thetimes.co.uk.

#foals #interviews #the sunday times #yannis philippakis #jimmy smith #liy era

[animeraider]

I have been nominated for a total of 9 awards by the Indie Music Channel, the premiere source for indie/alternative music in North America, and I'm going to talk about the songs that have3 been nominated. The first song I'm going to talk about here is "Jack", which is nominated for Best Live Performance. It is by far my most unexpected nomination, as while it's live there is no audience. Let me tell you the story:

Some many years ago, the fantastic band Rage Against the Machine broke onto the floor of the New York Stock Exchange in the middle of a trading day, set up and just started playing. In fact, they recorded a music video before getting chased out by the police.

It. Was. AWESOME!!!!! 

I love that band. The message, the music, the sheer performance chops of everyone involved. The audacity of it. Just fucking brilliant. I've done something similar, yet completely different, on a smaller scale and yet larger at the same time. 

There is an organization that my wife belongs to that I do not that she's actually fairly high up the food chain in. She's been spending the past few months putting together a reception/party for one of the officers of the group - the first real one since the lock down/pandemic uprooted everything. I've stayed out of it - this is my wife's thing and she's good at it. 

The day of the event was April 24th, 2022 in Berkeley, California. I was invited to the event and thought to myself, "at least that's a free lunch". I don't know many people in this organization, don't care for some of them, and don't much like the organization itself. In fact, I was opposed to my wife joining it until she gave me a reason that I simply couldn't counter - which I will not go into here. As long as I'm left out of it it's all good for me, and my wife gets a whole range of things she does without my influence. 

It works. 

Anyway, this place in Berkeley had the reception in a downstairs room that came with a kitchen for the caterers, but upstairs was to be the ceremony itself in this HUGE hall with 40 foot ceilings and astonishing acoustics. Seriously, you can hear a person whisper from across the room. And in the center of this room was a baby grand piano. Okay, not right in the center but you get the idea. 

Now you can ask anyone - just like a mama bear and a cub you do NOT get in between me and a piano. I have been sitting down and improvising at random pianos for decades now. In restaurants, hotels, airports, parks, zoos, people's homes, cruise ships, and once in a barn. Because my wife was in charge of the part on the floor below we had arrived 4 hours before the event in question. My wife had the key to the hall upstairs though, and I was sent to be out of the way and oh hey there's a piano in there. 

I promise you, I was happy with this. 

Over the course of a couple of hours I just let my fingers wander around the keys - sometimes playing coherently and sometimes not. I played in many styles and I let my imagination run. The room was open; people could come and go as they pleased and they did. At one point two men came in to set up a P.A. system.for the upcoming event. People wondered in and out of the room, wondering where the noise was coming from and I ignored them all. 

This was a beautiful piano, and old Chickering that had been loved and looked after and recently tuned. This is my idea of a little slice of heaven and so after only a few minutes I pulled out my phone and decided to test out an app from Dolby Studios I have. I played for a few minutes and recorded what I played.

And then I did it again. And again. 

I improvised and recorded an entire album with no one else in the room even knowing I was doing it. The album is called "Thousand Year Event" and will be released June 7th, 2022. Just me and the piano and 100% improvised. 

You can hear some background noise on the album. That would be the people coming and going. You can hear me breathe. You can hear the P.A. guys arguing at one point, although not the exact words. 

This music is hard to categorize. I refer to it as classical with a jazz influence but the streaming services don't much care for that. Alternative New Age? Maybe. I'm not a virtuoso pianist so we won't be calling it that. I've always liked the "Alternative" label because to me that just means I'm not doing things the way you expect. I go off on tangents all the time - just doing the pop and rock stuff alone is kind of boring to me. 

Alternative is recording an entire improvised album in a room you're not supposed to be in that belongs to a club you're not a member of with no one else even noticing that you're doing it while they're in the room with you.

There are two versions of the Video, one at the top of this page and one below, the idea for which I came up with about 5 minutes after the first one I commissioned was delivered. Enjoy!

#youtube #new music