#people do this to taylor swift too and act like her music is objectively bad which is just like. not true | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sonybees · 3 years

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random harry potter characters headcanons because i am bored

includes: fred, george, harry, ron, hermione, ginny, luna, seamus, dean, neville, padma, parvati, cedric, angelina, alicia, katie, cho, draco, adrian, blaise, and pansy.

warnings: slight modern!au, swearing, food mention

these are all headcanons i made on the spot so i’m sorry if they suck. i’m just really bored. it is also all over the place. a lot of these are collabs between some characters. i hope you enjoy though!

(by the way, the little dashes are just dividers)

rest under the cut!

fred would dance around his room at 3 am to literally any song.

jazz, classical, rock, metal, pop he does not give a fuck.

he woke up george once by jumping on his bed and playing all star on his electric guitar.

probably a song writer

uses “life is short” as an excuse to act on his bad decisions

dancing in the rain is one of his favorite things to do

sleeps at 3 am or pm, you decide.

hopeless romantic

good old fashioned lover boy by queen is his song

has a soft spot for hufflepuffs

george loves birds and bugs. completely unrelated to the last one but it’s true.

saw an injured bird outside his room when he was 5.

he cried and immediately took it in.

also cries when someone kills a bug.

thinks the bug’s family would be angry and disappointed in him.

enjoys painting random objects in his room

loves being called pet names

something like dear, honey, or hubby would make his heart burst

loves using them for his significant other as well

hopeless romantic part 2

has a soft spot for ravenclaws

harry is a night owl and he likes reading comic books.

he likes listening to rock music. i said what i said.

prefers being alone

likes quiet places and probably has a hideout

usually doesn’t understand poetry until he reads it like 20 times

has a soft spot for ravenclaws

ron adores ducks.

tears up when he sees them and always used to beg molly to keep them.

still tears up to this day.

not a big fan of seagulls though

he’s scared of them

but eagles are cool

likes country and rock music

also takes an interest in photography

the breakfast club is his favorite movie

has a soft spot for hufflepuffs

hermione loves listening to taylor swift.

reads to her songs always.

ravenclaws save her a special seat in their common room because a lot of them grew quite fond of her

a taste tester for hufflepuffs who go to katie’s lessons you’ll understand this later

she actually enjoys dressing up as well even if there wasn’t an event

has a soft spot for ravenclaws

ginny accompanies dean while he draws.

she just likes looking at other people do what they love so it’s not only dean.

she sometimes zones out looking at hermione read a book, always taking note of the facial expressions and guessing what she just read,

catching harry push his glasses up or cleaning them,

also is with luna every time she paints.

luna has a few artworks with ginny as her muse.

gin likes the simple things in life.

loves board games

sometimes a little too competitive

struts down the hallways with her significant other

she’d never admit it but she loves 10 things i hate about you

has a soft spot for slytherins

luna almost always goes with neville to the gardens.

she helps him with whatever he needs and sometimes draws a few stuff.

she’s a photographer too so she loves waking up early in the morning and taking photos.

amazing at braiding hair

and making flower crowns

likes reading royal fantasy books

watches 10 things i hate about you with ginny

has a soft spot for slytherins

seamus also hangs out with luna sometimes,

talking to each other about whatever.

he thinks she’s interesting and would make great conversations.

she does.

he also took some painting lessons from her

meditates

loves pumpkin juice

likes the movie my girl

has cried more than he will ever admit

has a soft spot for slytherins

dean has a wall in the boys dorm room where he puts up all his drawings.

the guys love it and always just stares at all of them in awe.

they’re all so amazing

is usually the first to notice when someone is sick

takes care of them immediately

loves sweaters

knows how to speak in latin

has a soft spot for hufflepuffs

neville goes to hagrid way more often than anyone thought.

he learned how to take care of the creatures, make some awesome tea,

he also sometimes helps hagrid clean his own house.

helps others in herbology

likes green tea

loves overalls

has a soft spot for ravenclaws

padma holds a record of the fastest writer at hogwarts

yeah, she’s amazing at it

ended up publishing her own fantasy book starting at hogwarts

sold out faster than expected

she is also a singer

amazing singer

movie marathons are her thing

prefers crime shows/movies

soft spot for gryffindors

parvati is very very very protective over her sister

does archery and is amazing at it

a very chill person until you mess with her loved ones

loves sixteen candles

adores puppies

watches big bang theory

soft spot for slytherins

cedric plays the piano.

the ravenclaw common room is where the only piano is at hogwarts so he goes there quite often.

everyone loves hearing him play.

other students gather around with their instruments and sing along as well.

wears glasses for reading

netflix type of guy

probably a theatre kid

has a soft spot for gryffindors

angelina also took piano lessons from cedric.

she just asked him one day where he learned it and he said his father taught him and he could tell that she wanted to learn.

so, he offered to teach her.

she was a natural at it and the lessons are always fun, even for the ravenclaws

angelina is also a tutor at hogwarts.

it all started with george and fred and she realized that she actually quite enjoyed it.

all her students love her

has a soft spot for ravenclaws

alicia is always the group leader in every group work she’s ever done.

she’s also usually the main organizer for any event at hogwarts.

she’s usually there with the help of angelina and katie.

they all work very well together

has a soft spot for slytherins

katie has a passion for cooking.

she’s friends with a lot of hufflepuffs and she meets a lot of them by the kitchens.

in there, they watch her cook amazing dishes and baked goods.

she was able to teach a few others how to as well.

the house elves love her.

has a soft spot for hufflepuffs

cho has an interest in fashion designing.

mcgonagall found her making a dress once in an empty hallway with some cool music playing.

minnie was amazed.

she was also able to start a fashion club at hogwarts.

luna, katie, dean and a few other were apart of this club as well.

likes pudding as much as luna does

has a soft spot for gryffindors

draco plays the violin.

pretty unexpected to his friends because he never really told anyone til goyle walked in on him playing in his dorm room.

he is actually very good at it.

combs his hair too often

the type to take too long at the water fountain

finishes his water bottle after like less than two hours of getting it

acts ‘ominous’ to the point where it’s funny

soft spot? for ravenclaws

adrian teaches young students how to play quidditch

his favorite color’s green for nature

actually loves reading and writing poetry

“most respectful”

has a soft spot for gryffindors

blaise seems very intimidating but is actually very sweet

shouts at quidditch games (much to everyones surprise)

loves the rain

likes dark academia movies

it’s basically his whole aesthetic

holds a record for most botts beans that fit in the mouth (without puking)

has a soft spot for hufflepuffs

pansy has a whole drawer of jewelry as she should honestly

actually soft for cats but it’s not like she’ll ever tell anyone

loves playing with other’s hair

massages her friend’s backs

they do the same for her

a goddess at card games

is actually a gymnast

has a soft spot for ravenclaws

bonuses: george and fred’s favorite movie to watch together is bill and ted’s excellent adventure

all the gryffindors have a movie night at least once a week and others from different houses join along as well

hermione, ginny, luna, parvati, padma, angelina, alicia, katie, and cho have girl nights

the same with the guys though it was quite awkward at first due to draco being there but they eventually warmed up to each other (after like 4 months)

no one really knows how draco and the slytherins even got there but yk

they never tell anyone that they’re comfortable with each other now though

tags: @quadrupledeckertaco @audreysmusings @georgeweasley19 @krasivayadarling @crookedhag

and others who i think would enjoy this: @lunalovecroft @whizboyhalo @darthwheezely @sirlorelai @puntuations @cherryweasleys @amourtentiaa @whatthefuckimbisexual @gredmforge (you don’t have to read if you don’t like!)

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oliviacookewrites · 3 years

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A secret santa gift for Yuri! @tesscthompson

In which Phoebe and Hesperis need to get out of their home town. Their playlist can be found here

(there is a death tw through car accident in the fic and suicide tw in the first song)

It wasn’t even a week after high school graduation when Phoebe called up Hesperis, her home was a total drag and she couldn’t be around her parents anymore. Phoebe had the brilliant idea that they go on a road trip across the country. No real destination. No real time frame. Just the two of them for an unknown amount of time before Hesperis was going off to college. Luckily for Phoebe, Hesperis was immediately on board and they made plans to leave the next day.

Phoebe arrived at Hesperis’s place with her beat up car that she had built herself. Sure it wasn’t much to look at but it was her baby. It was already stocked with luggage, maps, and countless food they could survive on the trip. Hesperis was already out of the house ready to go as she ran over and gave Phoebe a kiss on both cheeks before loading her supplies into the car.

“Okay I made a playlist but you’ll just have to trust me on this.” Phoebe started as soon as they sat down and pulled out of the driveway. “But you have full veto powers, as always.” It was something that usually went unsaid, the two girls had vastly different tastes in music, so usually there were a lot of skips involved until they could finally decide on a middle ground. The music started out blaring, heavy drum beats filling the shoddy stereo system at full volume. The two had barely gotten to the chorus when Hesperis skipped it. “Really Phoebe, it is way too much at this hour. Nothing that heavy.” (see Note 1) Phoebe didn’t protest, she thought it was a fair assessment. The second song (see Note 2) started out much softer and seemed to be appropriate. Looking over at Hesperis, Phoebe was quite proud to see her bobbing along with the song. Phoebe knew what was coming though so towards the last verse she was staring straight ahead as the music got more heavy. She didn’t have to look to her right to see Hesperis looking at her in mild disappointment. “You tricked me.” She said in a slight betrayal.

“I never stated that it would be like that the whole way through. Anyway you have to admit that is a pretty good road trip song!” Phoebe pointed out, a bit too smugly.

“I simply do not. Your music is vetoed, we’re putting my playlist in.” Hesperis was already unplugging Phoebe’s phone and replacing it with her own. The music started up with the upbeat music but as soon as the voice came out Phoebe objected. (Note 3)

“That’s a veto for me.” Phoebe said sadly.

“What? It’s Taylor Swift!” Hesperis said in horror.

“I know but that’s not the vibe for today! We have to respect the vibes.”

Hesperis just sighed and continued on with her music. If Phoebe was honest, Hesperis’s taste wasn’t bad at all. Wasn’t her first choice but it was enough that they could both sing and jam together. (Note 4)

Roads started to blend together and hours passed as the girls were just enjoying the open road. Phoebe always felt the most comfortable around Hesperis, it was like she just knew her better than anyone else. Especially lately.

As if on cue, Hesperis turned down the music slightly so she could be heard. “Now I’m loving an impromptu road trip, don’t get me wrong. But do you want to talk about why we needed one, Pheebs?” It was clear in her voice that she was just waiting for a time to ask. And Phoebe couldn’t blame her, if the situations were reversed she’d want to check in too.

“I just couldn’t be around them anymore. They’re always sad, not that they don’t have a right to be, but I just couldn’t be in the house. Especially on the anniversary.”

It went without saying. It was about to be a year from when Phoebe had lost her twin brother in a car accident. Sure Phoebe wasn’t the one driving, but she felt that she should have been. Should have been the one to say that Phaedrus should slow down and not take the turns too fast just for fun. But when the twins were together they tended to mix like fire and gasoline, always encouraging the bad behavior of the other. Their parents blamed Phoebe and honestly Phoebe blamed herself too. The only person who didn’t seem to blame Phoebe was Hesperis. They were close beforehand, which stunned almost everyone in town -- they weren’t exactly slated to be in the same friend group. But after the accident they had gotten even closer.

Hesperis didn’t say much after that, she just reached out to hold Phoebe’s hand. Hesperis knew that Phoebe wasn’t much to talk about her emotions, but the one act meant the world to Phoebe. “I’ve been thinking.” Hesperis started. “We could get an apartment together once school starts. I know you don’t have plans for college, so why don’t we just get a place and live together? I’m sure it’ll be cheaper than room and board anyways.”

Phoebe almost started crying on the spot. That was another reason she wanted to go on an indefinite road trip. The idea of being without Hesperis was too much and she wanted to make memories last forever. “I’d really like that. There’s a mechanic’s place nearby that’s actually hiring. I hate to say I already looked it up but didn’t know how to bring it up to you.” She said sheepishly. And without another word from the two of them, the matter was settled just like that.

Another hour or so passes before they have to turn into a gas station to refuel. It was in the middle of nowhere but the girls were desperate. They got out and were greeted by a young attendant with a scar on his face. “Well greetings and salutations, we don’t get much new visitors here.” He said as kindly as he could.

“And where exactly is here?” Hesperis said. When it came to outsiders, Hesperis was usually the one to speak up first. Phoebe didn’t mind it, she knew she wasn’t exactly the most charming to new people. She tended to be blunt and say things in ways she didn’t mean.

“The fine city of Meletis! Well the outskirts of it. If you go about five miles down the road here you’ll hit the center of town. Lots of fine shops if you’re interested.”

The girls hummed in a non-committed answer. Phoebe filled up the old beat up car while Hesperis went inside to look around. After she was done, Phoebe joined her. They both were playing around at the sunglass turnstyle, debating on if shutter shades were Phoebe’s style, and got some slushies to go. Phoebe even picked up a glizzy much to Hesperis’s concern that she would get sick. “I’ve got it this round.” Phoebe offered, knowing full well she was going to try to pay for every round after that as well. Hesperis went out as Phoebe patiently waited by the cash register for the attendant to come back and ring her out.

It wasn’t long before Hesperis was back in the store. “Pheebs? Where’s the car?” In a more panicked tone than she normally takes.

Phoebe immediately turned around in alert and ran out of the store with her slushie in tow. She saw for herself that her own crappy car was nowhere in sight. “Why would anyone take my car? It barely runs!” Phoebe said in major distress. Now they were abandoned in the middle of nowhere with just a couple of slushies and a glizzy to their name.

“Dammit!” Phoebe shouted in anger as she slammed down her slushie.

Now one slushie to their name.

“Wow like, you dropped your slushie. That’s a bummer.” An unfamiliar voice called out as they noticed they weren’t the only ones in the parking lot anymore. An open top jeep holding three passengers was idle as they all stared at each other.

Note 1: this track is the first track of the playlist (please be warned there is suicide tw in the song)

Note 2: naturally this is the second track of the playlist

Note 3: third track in the playlist

Note 4: they continue on with the playlist with no objection from either of them

Note 5: the last song is sung partly by Tessa Thompson 👀👀👀👀

#phoebe #opp: hesperis #road trip au #mythic odysseys of theros #theros

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amyscascadingtabs · 4 years

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i’ll walk through hell with you

chapter 5. love, you’re not alone

read on ao3

read earlier chapters

Amy mourns, important conversations take place, and a new decision is made.

june, cont.

Amy has never called in sick for three days in a row before.

She's been on leaves, and the odd sick day is inevitable when you have a kid at daycare, but it's never been more than one or two days before she’s at least attempted to work from home. Now she can't even make herself do that.

Technically, she’s perfectly healthy, which should probably exacerbate the guilt she feels over calling in sick, but not even her FOMOW is strong enough to drag her out of the cave of misery she’s dug herself into.

It's unlike her. She's Amy Santiago, she's a vessel of productivity more days than not, and even on lazier days, she'll have the energy to go about her daily life. This zombie-like existence, where it'll take three repeats before she notices her own name and she's uncertain when she last ate a full meal, isn't what her life is like. She's been sad before, she's been heartbroken and on the verge of giving up, but it's never enveloped her quite like this. She’s never felt this alone with her pain, because there’s no one to be mad at, no external circumstances or evil forces at work. The only things she can be angry at is her body, bad luck, and maybe fate, but she can’t put up a fight against either.

On the first day after what she supposes is the start of an early miscarriage, Amy googles, scouring the Internet for more information about chemical pregnancies. Her research feels largely pointless. It’s common, there’s nothing she could have done, it’s all down to a chromosomal accident. A chemical pregnancy can be seen as a good sign, one of the websites encourages her, and she snorts. It’s proof you’re able to get pregnant at all, she reads, and maybe it’s true, but it doesn’t give much comfort. After eight months of trying for twelve hours of euphoria that were ruined by a genetic fluke, she’d have wished for more reassurance.

On the second day, she gets out of bed and dressed, thinking she can trick herself into going back to work and pretend like everything’s fine if she gets far enough. It nearly works and Jake looks relieved when Leah and her hug goodbye, but once she’s in the car, the panic attack from two days ago flashes past her eyes and she’s shaking until she can get out of the vehicle and walk back up the stairs to their apartment. She spends the rest of the day in bed. At first, she doesn’t cry, but then she hears Leah asking from the other side of the door about what she’s doing and her heart shatters hearing Jake try to explain that mama’s just tired, she’ll play with you again tomorrow.

On the third day, she really tries. She gets started on a presentation for work and lets Leah pretend to make her coffee in her play kitchen, and she does feel better until her phone buzzes with news from the Santiago family group chat; David and his wife are having another baby. A welcome surprise, the message reads, and Jake has to hold her until she stops crying. Amy’s wracked with guilt as Leah brings her stuffed animal after animal, her eyes wide with distraught confusion.

It’s after the fourth day things take a turn. As far as her days of mourning - because she supposes it is mourning, after all - have gone, day four is subdued. Equally as gray, but not as sharply painful. It’s as if someone muted the volume in their apartment and slowed down their movements, turning everything into a lackadaisical haze. Even Leah is quieter than usual, almost acting a bit nervous around her, but when the evening comes she lets Amy read her bedtime stories and she falls asleep with her hand on Amy’s cheek. It’s the most peaceful and content Amy’s felt since six days ago.

“We have the best kid,” she mumbles as she curls up with her head on Jake’s shoulder ten minutes later, and he gives her an agreeing smile. “I think I’m going back to work tomorrow.”

“Are you sure?”

“I need to get back to normal. I’m starting to miss it, anyway.”

“Can’t cure that FOMOW easily, huh?”

She ignores the comment. “Is the precinct still standing without me?”

He laughs. “Barely. On that note... I got a request from Holt to go on this stakeout for two days. I think I have to take it, because, well - we’ve taken a lot of days off recently.”

“Yeah, of course. I can handle a bit of solo-parenting.”

“Actually -” Jake’s voice is apologetic, tinged with a bit of regret, and Amy’s instantly on edge, lifting her head from his shoulder. “- I was thinking Leah could stay with my mom for a few days.”

“Why would she need to do that?”

“Ames, don’t take this personally -”

“I’ll decide that for myself.”

“But I think it’d be better for both of you.” Jake’s eyes are boring into hers, and there’s a gravity to his tone she wasn't expecting. “I know you don’t want this to affect her, but I think it does, even if she doesn’t understand why, and… maybe you need a couple days on your own.”

She blinks, trying to make sense of his words. “So now I can’t be a parent to my own daughter because I'm sad over this?”

“Not what I was saying.”

“Sure sounded like it.”

“Don’t make this into something it’s not,” he asks, face twisted in a pained expression, and it takes all her self control not to get up and slam the door to their bedroom. She’s learned from her mistakes, though, so this time she listens. “I love you, so much, but I don’t know how to help you when you don’t want to talk to me, and I don’t know what to say to Leah when she keeps asking why you’re sad. She notices so much - it doesn’t feel fair to her.”

“No, but it’s not forever. It’ll get better,” she says, more to ease her own remorse. “And what do you mean I don’t want to talk to you? We’ve talked.”

“Not for real.”

“What do you mean, not for real?”

“You haven’t asked me how I feel about this, for example.” She opens her mouth, but he shakes his head. “Don't do it because you think you have to. I know it’s worse for you. But I’m disappointed, too, you know?” He bites his lip. “I think we all need a break before we go crazy.”

She wants to object, but part of her knows he's right. They’re going crazy. Mostly her, but she can tell it’s affecting her family too, despite how desperately she wishes it wasn’t. She reluctantly swallows her anger for now - most of it is only poorly concealed guilt, anyway - and nods.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” The tension fades from his expression as he exhales, watching her like he’s searching for signs of protest.

Amy shrugs. “I feel like the world’s worst parent. But sure.”

“You’re not,” he whispers, wrapping her in a hug as she buries her face in his neck for comfort. “This is just really, really hard.”

Her bad conscience is even worse when she wakes up the next morning. It's made easier by Leah jumping with glee at the question of whether she wants to have a sleepover at grandma’s house, but hugging her daughter goodbye at daycare is still extra difficult. It takes five minutes longer than usual and enough cheek kisses to make the toddler try to wriggle herself out of Amy’s arms, and she’s still fighting tears when she gets in the car. She turns the music up so she won’t have to think, but her phone shuffles to Paper Rings by Taylor Swift and endless memories of family dance parties to the song flood her brain.

She turns it off.

Five seconds later, she turns it on again and lets the memories be a welcome reminder of why she has to keep fighting. By the time she reaches the precinct’s garage, she’s singing along at the top of her lungs.

She expects her first day back at work to be complicated, making abundantly clear how much she’s missed out on, but it’s not. After helping Holt out with a briefing, going through emails and submitting a work order for another broken fridge, she’s back to feeling like her efficient, professional self. She can do this. She can move on with her life and put this behind her. She can even follow the squad out for drinks later and have a glass of red wine for the first time in two months, enough to get her tipsy and laugh too loud at Rosa’s narration of a lively debate between Charles and a suspect about the ranking of different cheeses. Karen texts her a video of Leah pretending she’s Elsa from Frozen and gliding over the living room floor while singing the same lines of Let It Go on repeat, and her heart aches a little, but the guilt is easing. Jake sends her an update on the stakeout, asking if she’s doing okay, and for once, she doesn’t have to lie when she writes back I’m doing good.

She starts her second day back doing paperwork, but she doesn’t get far before she’s interrupted.

“Hey. Amy.”

She looks up from the stack of papers. “Rosa?”

“I need your help with this witness.” Rosa cocks her head in the direction of the corridor. “I know she saw my perp, but she’s confused and I don’t think she trusts me. I was wondering if you could help me talk to her? You’re much better with the emotional ones.”

“Ooh!” Amy shines up. “Is this another case for the Sleuth Sisters?”

“If it’s what gets you on board, then, sure.”

Rosa briefs her on the case before they go in, and it doesn't take much to wake Amy's excitement. As much as she loves being a lieutenant, likes the administrative work and appreciates the more flexible hours, she does miss the constant surprises and adrenaline rushes that come with being out in the field. She even misses this, the simple interacting with people in order to both help them and discover new clues, anything leading closer to a solved case. She enters the room with a pep in her step and an ambition to help, but freezes when she sees the witness.

At first, she wonders if it's the same tension she’s felt the handful of times she's had to question a familiar face - an identical twin of a high school bully, or a former neighbor she held a grudge against - but it only takes a closer look to realize that's not the issue. Amy doesn't recognize this woman.

The witness simply happens to be very pregnant.

She doesn’t ask, because it’s not pertinent to the case, but Amy would put the woman at around six-seven months. Too far along for it to go unnoticed, not yet at the point where it looks like you’ve swallowed an exercise ball. She remembers loving that part of pregnancy, with the nausea gone and the energy returning. Her jealousy is a physical ache when she sees the witness placing her palm high up on her stomach, smiling in the same way Amy remembers she would do whenever she’d feel kicks.

The woman is shy at first, talking in a low voice with short sentences, and she keeps her hands atop the baby bump the whole time. Amy doesn’t blame her - she knows how naturally the instinct comes - but it doesn’t keep her from wishing the woman would stop drawing more attention to her state.

She doesn’t remember what questions she asks. She doesn’t remember what the woman answers. She makes notes but isn’t sure what she’s writing. All she can focus on is how the witness seems to personify the romanticized pregnancy glow, with shiny, thick hair and a cute bump. Amy’s using so much willpower in order not to cry, panic, or leave the room, it’s making her sweat, and yet she can tell from Rosa’s quizzical glances that her behavior is conspicuous. She can’t hide her envious anxiety, because every instance the woman touches her belly is another reminder of the pregnancy Amy thought she had and lost.

Amy rushes towards the women’s bathroom the second it’s over. She needs to breathe, put her head between her knees and let the tears come until she’s cried out every drop of frustration over her situation, the unfairness of it all, the deep shame in not even being able to feel happy for someone else anymore. She’s disgusted with herself. Eight months of limbo trying to conceive has officially made her insane.

She’s leaning over the sink and splashing cold water on her face when Rosa catches up with her.

“Amy? What the fuck was that about?”

“Nothing. It was nothing,” she rambles. “I’m good. Great.”

“No, you’re acting weirder than usual, and something’s clearly up. Come on.” Rosa’s grip on her wrist is firm without feeling pressuring, and Amy’s too shaky to protest, so she follows her friend to the evidence locker.

“Can you sit down?” Amy nods. “Okay, great. Do you need your meds?” She manages another, more tentative, nod. “Okay, wait here and I’ll get them. Handbag, outer pocket, right?”

Rosa disappears before she can confirm the information. She returns a couple of minutes later with two cups of tea and a prescription bottle, handing Amy the anxiety medication and gesturing at her to sit down before giving her a stern look.

“Okay, Santiago. Tell me what’s up before I get mad at you for making that witness feel weirded out.”

“I’m sorry.” Amy twists the cap, swallowing one of the pills before sitting down on the floor next to Rosa, their backs against a shelf of cardboard boxes. “You didn’t tell me she was pregnant.”

“No, because I didn’t know it was something you would act all loony about.” Rosa raises a brow. “What’s up? Are you pregnant again? That’s usually when you’re crying in here.”

She sighs, twisting back the cap and placing it on the floor beside her. “No, I’m not pregnant.”

“So?”

“We’ve been trying since fall,” Amy blurts out, admitting it to someone else for the first time in six months. “With IVF, now, but I’m still not pregnant. I almost was. Or I was, but I had an early miscarriage, so… no.”

Rosa nods slowly, bringing the cup of tea to her lips. “Damn.”

“It took eight months before we got a positive test. Ovulation testing, scheduling, IVF with shots and pills and money and a billion doctor’s visits. Then we finally found out I was pregnant.” The words are flying out of her, an unstoppable flow once she’s found them. “Except not even a day later, we found out it wasn’t happening, the numbers were too low. Chemical pregnancy. It’s why I was gone last week.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” She bites her lip. “God, it’s so good to tell someone.” “Uh-huh. Wait.” Rosa scrunches her nose and knits her brows like Amy just critiqued The Holiday. “You haven’t told anyone?”

Amy laughs. “How would I do that? Call a briefing, stand in front of everyone and say hi, just so everyone knows, I’m trying to have another baby but I have shitty ovaries so it’s not going well and it’s making me depressed? Sure.”

“Not a public announcement, dum-dum. But you could have told your friends.”

“I didn’t want people to know. It’s been hard enough to deal with on my own. ”

“And I get that,” Rosa nods. “But there are people here who care about you. We could have been there for you.”

“How? Steered me away from every pregnant woman in case I start crying? I’m sorry, Rosa, but I don’t see how it would work.”

“Maybe not, but we could have helped! I could have known not to ask you to work with me on this specific witness instead of sitting through that shitshow!” She groans. “I know you hate accepting help or whatever, but you’re not alone in this, even if you think you are.”

Amy looks down at her shoes. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry. Just… don’t torture yourself over this more than you have to. It’s not worth it.”

They sit like that for another moment, no sounds but the occasional sips of tea and heavy breaths as Amy feels the anxiety fade from a heavy storm to a cool breeze. She still feels guilty over ruining the case for Rosa, for the poor pregnant woman who probably thinks Amy’s a sociopath, but the tea and company are helping more than she can express. She knows Rosa’s right, too - she’s been keeping this pain mostly to herself for so long, never considering the option of talking about it. It’s a little bit of performance anxiety, a little bit of embarrassment and a little bit of stigma. She’s not supposed to struggle with getting pregnant.

“I guess I was afraid if I talked about it, it would make it more real.” The realization takes shape as she speaks it. “Like, as long as we didn’t tell anyone, I could pretend it wasn’t happening.”

“But it’s already real, isn’t it? Talking about it won’t change that.”

“I guess not.”

Much to Amy’s surprise, her friend, who could and probably would break Amy’s arm if she hugged her without asking, lays a hand on her shoulder and squeezes it gently.

“Look, I get if you don’t want to talk about it right now. It’s fine. But if you want to come over tonight, watch a Nancy Meyers movie and drink tequila, you can. I won’t bully you if you cry.”

The sentiment is sweet, and so very Rosa of her, it makes Amy throw her arms around her best friend in gratitude, risking the fact that she might lose her arm. Rosa grunts, but then she leans into the hug for a brief, precious moment before disentangling herself.

“I’ll expect you at eight,” Rosa says before collecting their teacups and standing up. “Bring pizza.”

This time, Amy manages a proper smile. “I’ll be there.”

She tries to get back to work, but her focus is done and the precinct appears calm, so she takes the freedom of working from home for the rest of the day. There are only three hours left until she’s supposed to pick up Leah, anyway, and the apartment could use some cleaning. Her daughter’s room, in particular, is a mess so thorough Amy’s nearly impressed, but mostly shocked by how a person so tiny can create so much chaos. There’s no question about which parent the child inherited her non-existent organization skills from, she thinks, and gets to work on pairing together different puzzle pieces with their boxes.

It’s when she’s laying on her stomach, trying to get a hold of the pieces that’s made their way underneath Leah’s bed, that she finds something. There’s a plastic bag pushed all the way to the wall, and she reaches for it to see what it is. She can’t see clearly through the packaging, so she unwraps it, pulling out a white toddler-size t-shirt with black arms and fancified gold writing that reads Promoted To Big Sister.

The heaviness in her chest returns with a vengeance when she realizes Jake must have ordered it - either during the few hours they thought they were having another baby, or even earlier. She clutches the item to her chest and closes her eyes, anticipating the tears.

“Shit. I was hoping you wouldn’t find that.”

Amy turns her head to find Jake standing in the door opening. It's clear from the messy hair and crumpled t-shirt that he's coming straight from a long work shift without showering first, and the bags under his eyes make her wonder when he last slept.

“It's okay,” she says quickly, folding the item so she can't see the design. “Just… can you take it?”

He nods, taking it from her hands and sitting down across from her on the gray long-pile rug, putting the shirt behind his back.

“I can hide that better. I'm sorry.”

“Don't be.” Amy snivels. “It's fine. I'm fine.” She stands up, picking up a stuffed Ikea shark from the floor and putting it on Leah's bed.

“You're cleaning.”

“Yeah.” She finds an illustrated Harry Potter-book at the foot of the bed and returns it to its shelf. “It calms me. How was the stakeout?”

“Good,” he nods. “How are you?”

“I'm okay. I think. How are you?”

His smile bears heavy traces of exhaustion. “Also okay, I think. Did a lot of thinking while I was away, actually.”

“Yeah.” Amy picks up a basket of fabric vegetables, putting them near the play kitchen before she sits down across from Jake again. “So did I.”

“Do you want to share, or…?”

“No - you go first.”

Jake grimaces. They’ve gotten better at this over the years, finding a balance between his hesitancy to lay bare his emotions in serious conversation and her tendency to read into details and draw the worst conclusions posthaste, but she can still sense his discomfort as he reaches for a stuffed dragon from Leah’s bed, squeezing it to keep his hands occupied.

“I know I don’t know what it feels like,” he says slowly. “It’s not my body that’s…”

“Broken,” she fills in reflexively.

“Putting up a bit of a fight,” he corrects her with an unyielding look. “But you’ve been acting a bit like it doesn’t hurt for me, too. I know it was only a day, but for that day… I was already ordering that shirt for Lee, you know? I was so excited.”

“I know. I’ve really been busy feeling sorry for myself, huh?” She tries to laugh, but the chuckle dies out like a droplet of water swallowed by a raging fire.

“No, you’ve been suffering. Don’t be mad at yourself for that. Just… you’re not alone in this.” His hand reaches out to hold hers, and she squeezes it tight.

“It’s funny. Rosa told me the same thing today.”

“You talked to Rosa?”

“Yeah. I’m going over there for Nancy Meyers and tequila tonight.”

“Good, you need it.”

“I do, huh?” This time, the quiet laughter survives. The corners of Jake’s mouth quirk up.

She's missed seeing him smile, she realizes. She's missed sharing happiness with him. They’ve had moments of hope, and even when everything has felt dark, they've still smiled and had fun with their daughter; but she wonders when they last laughed at something trivial just the two of them. It feels like ages.

“I miss our normal life,” she says, because it's the only way she can think of to describe it. “I’m sorry I brought you into this mess. It's all my fault.”

Jake frowns. “No, we agreed on trying IVF.”

“I meant, I'm sorry we're struggling at all.”

“I don't think I get it -”

“It's my body that's the problem, right? If only you’d married a woman with well-functioning ovaries, you wouldn't be sitting here.”

She's serious, but the way he narrows his eyes and looks at her like he doesn't know if she's joking or not, makes her giggle. He joins in, shaking his head in disbelief, and for a moment, it feels like old times.

“I know this might be hard to believe,” he grins, “but Amy Santiago, I did not marry you for your ovaries.”

“Well, that's a relief.”

“I swear. I love you, more than anything in the world except our daughter, and that means I love all parts of you.”

“Even my shitty ovaries?”

Jake rolls his eyes lovingly. “They wouldn't be the first thing I listed, but, yes. I love them too.”

She laughs again. “Thanks, babe.”

“You're welcome.”

“I love you, too.” Amy closes the short bit of distance between them, wrapping him in a close hug as they sit there on the carpet. She's sniveling again, drying her eyes against his flannel, and he strokes her upper back and kisses the top of her head as he holds her. “So, so much.”

They sit like that for a moment, not moving more than the slightest of shifts, another soft kiss pressed to a neck or a cheek.

“Do you want to think about the next step?” Jake asks, and she nods.

“We still have two frozen embryos left - we could transfer those and hope one sticks.”

His eyes gleam in that mischievous way she recognizes so well, maybe even from the first day they became partners. “And are we doing both at once?”

“I guess we might as well, right?”

Jake pumps his fist in a childish victory gesture, and it's Amy's turn to roll her eyes. Her skepticism is half-hearted, though, because it's hard to remain unaffected by his infectious happiness.

“I can't wait to be a family of five with you,” he whispers into her ear, pulling her onto his lap, and she groans.

“You’ve got to stop saying that, I swear you’re going to jinx it.”

august.

Maybe it’s the fact that she’s gotten used to it, that she’s not forcing her body to produce an unnatural amount of mature eggs, or that she’s filled with so much now-or-never furious ambition, but Amy experiences their second attempt with fertility treatments to flow much easier. She takes the medications, is thankful they don’t involve as many injections this time, goes to checkups, and does all she can to maximize her chances in the meantime. No tip is too absurd in comparison with her desperation for this to succeed. She tries acupuncture and changes her diet. She cuts back on caffeine despite the headaches it gives her, and takes even more vitamins. She does a few tries at fertility yoga, which mostly fail when Jake walks in on her doing a very wobbly supported shoulder stand and explodes in laughter, or when Leah insists on watching and is silent for exactly one minute before she wants to use Amy as a jungle gym and tries to climb on top of her in bridge pose. At first, Amy’s frustrated, but then she thinks of the sources she’s read about laughter being able to boost fertility, and lets the yoga session turn into a giggling tickle fight with her toddler. It’s much more fun, anyway.

She continues the tips after the transfer, too. She wears fuzzy socks for her day of bed rest even though it’s the end of July and their bedroom is uncomfortably heated as is, because keeping your feet warm is supposed to boost chances of implantation. She orders jasmine scented candles for the same reason, but it only takes a minute after lighting one for her to realize she’s wildly allergic. In the end, there’s nothing to do but wait, hope, and try to relax.

They decide to go all-in for the relaxation part. Truthfully, it’s not as much a decision as an offer from Charles and Genevieve to tag along for free on their family vacation after a pair of Boyle cousins dropped out, and not as much relaxation as it is a change of environment to chase their dare-devil two-and-a-half-year-old around in, but it is a paid-for one-week-trip to a family-friendly resort in Mexico and they’re not going to say no. Amy packs two pregnancy tests in her bag, and they’re on their way.

She worries about whether being on vacation with Charles will inevitably mean an abundance of intrusive questions and terrifying dining choices, but either Genevieve or Jake must keep him in check, because it’s neither. Rather, having two extra adults present ends up hugely improving the vacation - there's always someone guarding the kids, and Amy finds herself finishing reading one book, a poetry collection and listening to two podcasts already in the first four days. She gets her daily workout in by chasing Leah around, trying to prevent her from jumping headfirst from the deep end of the pool. She takes turns with Jake to pretend they're sea monsters who want to eat Leah's toes while she floats around with her swim ring and puffs, laughing merrily at them both. She discovers that the best way to get her daughter to let her put on sunscreen is if she gets to watch YouTube clips on the iPad meanwhile, and reaffirms that the best way to get Jake to put it on is to do it for him, then accept his offer of returning the favor. They try out all of the resort’s playgrounds and eat a ton of ice cream to keep cool. On one of the days, Jake and Leah take a nap together in the shadow spooning on a daybed, and Amy takes about a hundred pictures before scooching her bed as close to theirs as possible.

With her heart full, and her relaxation levels higher than they've been for a long time, she almost forgets it's time to take a pregnancy test.

It's evening by the time she remembers.

Charles and Genevieve have offered to babysit Leah for a night in exchange for Jake and Amy watching Nikolaj the next, which gives them the rare chance to have a proper date night. Amy gets dressed up, opting to go the extra mile with a sleek, black, v-neck dress that hasn’t seen the light of day since their honeymoon, and paints her lips a matte red for a pop of color. Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, she worries it’s too much - the dress sits tighter over her hips than it used to and the makeup feels like she’s overcompensating - but the way Jake’s gaze lands on her once she steps out, how his eyes widen and he swallows a gulp of air, makes her stresses dissipate.

Eight years of dating, five years of marriage, and he still looks at her with as much awe as he did their first night together.

He’s wearing a familiar pastel pink button-down, paired tastefully with dark jeans and the curls she still goes crazy for, so Amy figures she looks at him the same way.

It is with great willpower they make it down to the restaurant in time for their reservation, only stopping once to make out against the wall of a hotel corridor. They’re seated at a nice table near a window with an ocean view, and it takes the waiter placing two drink menus on their table for Amy to realize why it feels like she’s forgotten something.

“Shit,” she mumbles, biting her lip as she reads the wine list.

Jake looks up, a horrified look on his face. “What? Don't tell me they only have Orangina for orange soda.”

“No, it’s not that. I just remembered I don’t know if I can drink. I forgot to take a pregnancy test.”

“That’s today?”

“Yeah. I was going to take it this morning, but then we slept in and Leah woke us up by jumping in our bed...” “And then Charles knocked on our door and asked us to come down to the breakfast buffet in five minutes,” Jake nods, bringing his hand up to his chin as if he’s in deep thought. “Well, we could leave and take it now?”

Amy considers it, but as much as she wants to find out, she also wants to sit here forever. Something about the restaurant’s lighting is making her husband look especially gorgeous, and it’s been way too long since they last sat through a proper nice dinner. She needs this. They need this.

“No,” she decides, intertwining her hand with his across the table. “Let’s have a quick dinner. I won’t drink anything, and then we’ll take a test.”

“Okay. Then I won’t drink either,” Jake declares, flipping to the non-alcoholic drinks with his free hand. “Yes! Regular orange soda!”

“You don’t have to just because I can’t -”

“Ames, I’m repeating, regular orange soda. This is the opposite of a problem. Plus,” he shrugs, “I literally just want to spend time with you.”

His tone is so genuine, his smile so sweet, she can’t stop herself from leaning forward and kissing him despite the looks from their fellow restaurant-goers.

The dinner is wonderful, yet Amy can’t shake her nervousness. It bothers her. She’s having a luxurious meal, toasting in fruity soda together with the love of her life, and she can’t even be fully present in this moment because she’s worried about what the test will show. If this attempt has failed, she’ll have to do another full round of IVF, even though the thought of more injections makes her want to scream. If they get another negative test, it’ll be ten months and counting of this taking up too big a part of their lives, and Amy’s tired.

She wants to be pregnant and she wants to have another baby, but she also wants to enjoy life with her family without worrying about cycles, ovulation tests, and clinic check-ups. She wants to go on more of these date nights, more vacations, and share a glass of wine with her husband in the evening because she can. She’s tired of rules and recommendations, of counting, scheduling, and planning. For ten months she’s tried to be patient, but now the exhaustion has begun to creep over her.

They rush back to the suite once the dinner is done. Jake waits outside the bathroom while she takes the test, tries to make her hands stop shaking as she washes them, and carefully places the test display-down on the sink. He hugs her when she comes out, and she lets herself relax for a second in his arms even though she feels sick with anxiety.

They sit on the balcony, drinking from glasses of alcohol-free champagne in silence until the timer on her phone rings. Jake goes to get the test from the bathroom, but Amy feels like she knows the result before he’s given it to her.

The test shows a bolded, plain, Not Pregnant, and she scoots it with her foot across the balcony, getting it as far away as possible.

“I’m sorry, “ Jake whispers, letting her lean her head on his shoulder and squeezing her hand.

She exhales, forcing herself not to cry. “So am I.”

“What do we do now?”

“First, I say we order a bottle of real champagne.”

Jake raises an eyebrow, but he doesn’t object.

Much like it was a sudden thought that awakened a long lingering feeling when she first suggested they’d start trying, this time it's the immediate and overpowering negativity bringing up the growing sensation of impending burnout, that makes her say what she's thinking.

“I want to stop.”

Jake looks at her with as much shock as if she’d said she was thinking of canceling her Staples Rewards Membership. “You want to… stop?”

She nods.

“Like.. just… stopping?”

“You heard me. I don't think I want to do this anymore.” Amy draws a shaky breath, looking down at their intertwined hands. “If we have another go at IVF, we have to do the whole thing again. I guess we could, but it’s so much money, Jake.”

“We could work it out,” he mumbles.

“We could. I just don't know if I want to.”

“But… you wanted another baby.”

“And I still do.” She thinks of all the families she’s seen at the resort over the last few days. Sisters and brothers playing together, a light-haired toddler taking a break from swinging to run and kiss their baby sibling’s head, tiny infants with sunhats and baby swimsuits eliciting screams of happiness from being in the water while their big siblings try to entertain them. It’s painful to imagine never having her dream of more than one kid fulfilled, but it’s infinitely more agonizing to feel like she’s missing out on the wonderful life she does have.

“But it's been so long. It’s been so much pain, time and tears, and I'm still not pregnant. Remember when you said we’d do IVF as long as I felt it was worth it for me?”

Jake nods slowly. He’s watching her with a wistful look on his face, which is somehow more heartbreaking than the negative test.

“I don't think it is worth it for me anymore,” she whispers.

“I… are you sure, Ames?”

“No,” she confesses. “Yes. For now, I’m sure.”

He wraps his arms around her again, neither of them saying anything as she twists her head so their foreheads are touching. Trailing her fingers against his jawline, she cups his face, lips brushing against his with the softness of doing it for the first time and the familiarity of doing it for the thousandth. He’s a little surprised by the move, but then he’s kissing her back just as carefully, one hand tangling in her hair before he draws back.

“I’ll go get us that bottle of champagne,” he says, and squeezes her hand another time before leaving.

The sun’s starting to set, painting the sky a captivating roseate-orange blend. It fills Amy with a sense of peace and relief - a hope that her life will soon feel more like her own again.

Checking her phone inside, she sees that Charles has texted them a picture of a soundly sleeping Leah. She ignores the trio of winking emojis he’s written after encouraging them to have a good night and sends back two hearts instead. She’s already missing her daughter so badly it’s physically painful, and her eyes linger on the picture long after she’s replied, but she reminds herself that tomorrow is only hours away. Tonight is date night, and she’s determined to make it a good one despite its unconventional start.

Jake returns ten minutes later, all out of breath from what he describes as a brisk walk to the corner store to buy the fanciest bottle they had for a decent price, and she smiles and kisses his cheek before accepting a glass.

“This is beautiful,” she says, moving aside so there’s space for him on the patio loveseat.

“The sunset?”

“This night. The sunset. You.”

“You’re beautiful-ler.” His reply is as reflexive as her eye-roll.

“I mean it. I want to enjoy this night with you. Hell, I just want to enjoy my life,” Amy gives the abandoned test a death-glare, “without this constant stress. It’s ruining everything.”

“It hasn’t ruined everything...”

“No, but everything would still be better if it wasn’t there, you know?” She shrugs and he nods, taking a sip from his glass. “I want to get back to our normal life. This vacation is making me realize how much I miss it.”

“What do you miss?”

“Being relaxed. Having any sort of free time. I miss being able to just live our lives with our amazing daughter, and not be constantly thinking of whether I’ve taken this and that medication or gone to this and that appointment and what day of what cycle it is.”

“I get that.” There’s a playful smile on his lips, and she’s about to ask what he thinks is so funny before he speaks again. “Do you think maybe we make such great kids that the universe couldn’t handle more than one? Think about it! Your brain, and my good looks - maybe it’s too powerful a combination, and if we have more children, everything will, like.. explode.”

It’s a ludicrous theory, but he delivers it with so much conviction it makes her snort, laughing until there are tears in her eyes.

“I’ll have to admit,” she says when she can finally form words again, “it sounds way more plausible than any other explanation.”

There’s a lighter atmosphere between them after his joke, the warm evening air a little easier to breathe. They change the topic, drink more wine, and she makes less note of what they’re talking about than how content she’s feeling. It's like just making the decision to stop and accept the situation, rather than doing everything in her power to change it, is a giant block of stone off her shoulders. Without it, she can feel like herself again. The painful thought of never having another baby still bites at her, but for once, she's able to push it aside and refill her glass instead.

She wonders when they last had a proper date night like this. She’s certain it’s been too long - if nothing else, then for the way she finds her eyes resting in certain places after a while. The one unbuttoned button on his shirt, revealing a bit of slightly tanned chest. The way his fingers wrap around the thin glass. His neck, practically asking to be peppered with nips and bites. His arms, his hands, the thighs she can't help but rest her hand on.

A moment of deep eye contact, meeting his curiosity before she blushes, looking away.

“Another thing I miss about my life,” she says, struck with sudden confidence. “Having sex with you without always thinking about whether I’ll get pregnant.”

“Woah there.” Jake coughs, examining her expression. “Did you have four drinks already?”

She shakes her head.

“Hmm. Anyway - it's okay, Ames.”

“For you, maybe.” She swallows the last in her glass. “Less so for me.”

His cheeks turn a dark crimson. “I'm sorry -”

“It's not your fault,” she assures him. “Honestly, I haven't let it be about me. Or us. But - god - I miss it being just for pleasure.”

“Me too.”

The heated glance he gives her is a physical sensation, making desire pool in the pit of her stomach and sending her nerves on full alert when his hand touches her bare inner thigh, softly stroking.

“I can't remember when we last were child-free together for a whole night,” she whispers, and he smiles a knowing smile. “Let's make the most of it.”

“If you say so.”

She pulls him in for a searing kiss, sighing with pleasure as he moves his hand higher, closer to where she's aching for if to be.

“Let's go inside, babe.”

She’s nervous about so many things - whether she’ll change her mind tomorrow, whether this counts as giving up, if it makes her weak - but as Jake’s fingers brush over the faint bruises from the last injections with so much reverence, and he makes a point of kissing the thin white stripes on her lower abdomen that remain tangible proof she once carried their child inside of her, she decides those thoughts can wait. His lips move to her centre, and she gasps so sharply, he places a hand on her hip to keep her still.

“Don’t you dare stop,” she breathes, feeling the vibrations of his laugh before he sucks harder and everything is forgotten except the blissful sensation of his tongue against her and the building, pleasant tension as he pushes her closer to the edge.

It’s a night of relief, in more than one sense.

#we're nearing the ending guys hold tight it'll be good i promise #my writing #b99 #brooklyn 99 #brooklyn nine-nine #peraltiago #jake x amy #b99 fic #brooklyn 99 fic #brooklyn nine-nine fic #b99 fanfiction #brooklyn nine-nine fanfiction #jake x amy fic #jake x amy fanfiction #peraltiago fic #peraltiago fanfiction #iwthwy

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monicalorandavis · 4 years

Text

“Miss Americana” sucks.

I don’t know who needs to hear this but your queen is bad. Swifties, do better.

A political icon she is not. A blond, good-natured songwriter she is. With flying colors. Colors of a LGBT flag? Girl. I guess.

I don’t like my gay icons moderate, but therein lies Pete Buttigieg’s whole entire appeal and he fared surprisingly well so you can ignore all of this. America is the land of moderate popularity. 2020 the year of the fence-rider. Look at Joe Biden for chrissakes...

I won’t spoil any of “Miss Americana” because although I don’t love the film or the subject, one thing I do protect is the sanctity of a viewing experience. Y’all are entitled to that. Plus, at this point, if you wanted the whole thing spoiled there are enough op-ed’s on Vulture to make your eyes bleed.

I will start and end with the singular political act documented in the film, Swift’s long-awaited, overly-publicized tweet against Marsha Blackburn for the Tennessee Senate race in 2018. It was considerate, well-researched and pointed. It was not incendiary. It was respectful. I respect her for doing so. She incurred some blowback from the Right. Trump said he liked her music 25% less. If you’re rolling your eyes, me too.

So let’s really talk since people want to act like the girl was really being risky. Umm, how? In the grand scheme of the woman’s career, she is the first artist whose four albums have all sold over one million copies in the first week on the Billboard 200. She is breaking records. She is still snatching trophies. Objectively, you have to admit, she is doing just fine. She didn’t burn a bra on stage. She didn’t cry “Fuck Marsha Blackburn and the racist, homophobic horse she rode in on” like she could’ve.

Nor do I think she needs to go that far, especially considering she’s just only dipped her toe in the political pool (at the age of 30 which is a whole other discussion). But, the rest of the film takes a turn towards this “We are the resistance” angle and I missed the part where that all happened. Resistance??? Implying protests, strikes, organizing, activism, sit-ins...

I saw one tweet, just one, where she urged people to register to vote and vote against Blackburn and after all of that, Blackburn still won. I agree, the positives were many. Youth voter registration ballooned immediately. But, now imagine, if she’d used her voice two years prior in 2016. Could she have impacted the election of Trump? I’d say yes, even if just slightly. And for that, I hold her accountable.

I am happy Taylor Swift found her political voice but I’m not above holding people to the fire for past silences. No more silence. No more passivity. It’s dangerous. And I expect more from any “resistance”, honey. This is white feminism at its finest and it’s, frankly, very boring.

#miss americana #taylor swift #swift #trump #marsha blackburn #netflix #netflix doc #2020 #taylor swift 2020

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fizzingwizard · 4 years

Text

I finally saw the Cats movie the other day.

After the alarming trailers and the bad reviews after the premiere, I was pretty much desperate to like it. Just to like it, enough, as a Cats fan. I thought, “ok, if the normal people dislike it, that doesn’t mean there aren’t enough nuggets and even pearls to sustain us true fans.” Trust me, I am a fan of X-men comics, I am very very used to doing that. (It’s the entire reason I can stomach the Dark Phoenix movie at all.) So my bar was, I thought, appropriately low.

Oh how wrong I was.

iT’S THE WORST MOVIE I EVER SAW GUYS. And it gives me no small amount of pain to admit that. It marks the first time in my life I considered walking out of the theater, not out of outrage, just boredom. And Cats has never bored me before. So I must rant.

Before I start, though, I have to say I just can’t blame the cast for any of this. It’s the movie direction. As far as I can tell, the actors acted and danced their hearts out truly believing when it was finished this movie would be something resembling a movie. The resemblance is there, but... faint.

1) The CGI. A while back I suggested that once the CGI was finished and polished up, and moreover, when we could watch it continuously and not in stitched-together bits for a haphazard trailer, then the CGI cats wouldn’t look as jarring. For the most part, that was the case for me. But I’m certain it wasn’t the case for everyone. It was freakishly reminiscent of that live action Cat in the Hat movie (and that’s not exactly a compliment).

It didn’t bother me too much, because I thought from the beginning that costumes or CGI, it would be impossible to design human cats who don’t rub a lot of people the wrong way. It was a sacrifice I was okay making because I saw it as an inevitability. But the hairier cats like Old Deut and Gus (ie, the cats whose costumes were more reminiscent of the theater) definitely looked better, though. (Speaking of which, who on EARTH shaved poor Rum Tum Tugger!?)

But aside from the cats. Those rats FREAKED me out. If those had been in the trailer? My hopes would have been dashed much, much earlier. Eek. No. And... the rats came back a second time... and then a third!!! Meanwhile the beetles were just... people in beetle suits. Mr. Hooper, what are you smoking? I need some right now.

Also. Why, WHY don’t the cats have cat noses? That bothered me the whole time!!

2) The choreography. When I saw the cast, way back before even trailers were out, the first thing I thought was “um, do these people secretly have classical dance training and it just isn’t widely known?” Because Cats is basically a variety show. You can’t do Cats without amazing dancing in multiple styles, from ballet to tap to freaking gymnastics.

There were some dancers, including Victoria. I wish I could say more of them. It’s not that they aren’t talented. I’m sure they are. It’s just that, between the choreography being incredibly changed, and then on top of that edited with CGI to “improve” the feline poses and stunts, who knows where the actual dancing is. Not me. We don’t even get one fouette from Mistoffelees. I mean. Come on. Not even in CGI! Why would you do this to Cats. Why. Why.

It’d be one thing if the movie choreography clearly improved Cats the movie, which, after all, wasn’t going to be an exact replica of Cats the musical. Unfortunately, it, uh, doesn’t.

3) The music. I haven’t seen this touched on a lot, but did anyone else notice the music sounded like someone was just playing the soundtrack for the 90s film on a boombox somewhere in the background? It wasn’t crisp. It wasn’t even loud. The electric guitar that makes you shiver when you hear it live? Barely discernible. At the very least, I thought they’d do something interesting with the music, although I guess I should thank my lucky stars that they randomly decided to leave well enough alone in this instance... But it’s a MUSICAL. How do you half-ass the (amazing, by the way!) score in a MUSICAL?!

4) The singing. Yes, this needs its own separate section, because WHY COULDN’T ANYONE SING. Even people who can, in fact, sing!! Jennifer Hudson is GREAT singer. Her “Memory” isn’t terrible, but it is drastically overacted and far from joining my list of favorite “Memory” performances. Taylor Swift’s “Macavity” was fine, I guess. I’d probably be more positive about it if the rest of the movie didn’t suck. James Corden was fine too, “Bustopher Jones” is not exactly a challenging song, but Rebel Wilson’s “Old Gumbie Cat” was breathy, weirdly sexualized, and couldn’t end fast enough for me. I’m not too familiar with Jason Derulo but I am sure he doesn’t sing like an idiot all the time, and neither should Rum Tum Tugger. What was that about?

And no one expected Judi Dench to sing but she sure tried. I admire her for it, but sorry, Mr. Hooper, I don’t agree that Old Deut can get away with a poetry reading version of “The Moments of Happiness.”

“Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer” was pretty good but difficult to understand because all the scene-changing made the lyrics hard to follow (and I know them by heart). “Skimbleshanks” more or less the same. I wouldn’t have complained about these if the movie had been a little better overall.

“Magical Mr. Mistoffelees” is more about the dancing than the singing, but it’s such a climactic number that the way it’s so slow and, er, anticlimactic in this movie is just a huge letdown.

5) The unending fat jokes. I know James Corden and Rebel Wilson are both perfectly comfortable with poking fun at themselves, and do it pretty much all the time. I also know they’re both okay being gross. I suppose people thought the two of them together would be movie magic. Instead, their powers combined to create The Ultimate Apocalyptic Unending Gross Fat People Joke Machine. Some of the jokes were a little funny. They got less funny the more they occurred. And just when you thought they would stop. THEY INCREASED. It’s like I was secretly in a Spongebob Squarepants movie where they obsessively make fun of fat people and their bodies while eating everything in sight. It had a mood of “fat people power!” but a stench of “we couldn’t think of any good jokes so we just did some gross shit!”

6) I hate Munkustrap! This one has no appearance of objectivity, I just can’t stand him. He looks weirder in the CGI than most of them (not his fault, but). I hated his singing voice. And he got to sing way too much for how enjoyable he was. He looked a little stoned, to be frank. Maybe that’s what they were going for. BTW, I absolutely adore Munkustrap in the show. I wasn’t exactly expecting Michael Gruber again, and yet, I sort of was.

7.) Victoria’s original song. Actually. Actually. I liked this song. It was a nice song! I enjoyed listening to it in the credits. (lol?) They clearly spent much more time making it sound nice than they did the actual Cats music. But why... why was there an original song... in a musical that already has more than enough songs? What did it add? I get that it was supposed to explain Victoria’s motivations and show her connection with Grizabella. I just don’t think it was necessary. Because. Because. There’s already an explanatory song in the musical! the little known number... “Memory!” And its variations. As a well as the not insignificant “Glamour Cat” song. Victoria doesn’t have a song. That’s true. Jemima/Sillabub does though. If you’re going you erase the juxtaposition of Jemima and Grizabella and force Victoria into a similar role, why couldn’t she have just sung “Moonlight”? IIRC she did in the end sing the interlude during “Memory” anyway. Then they forced more reprises of the original Victoria song on us, even made Judi Dench sing it. It’s a nice song. WHAT IS IT DOING HERE.

(More in another post because it is late and my complaints are many.)

#cats musical #cats movie

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shadeecare · 4 years

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Hana Kimura, victim of cyberbulling

Another Celebrity has fallen. Hana Kimura, professional wrestler and star of Netflix’s ‘Terrace House’, a Japanese reality TV series, fell victim to suicide. She left behind messages indicating that cyberbullying is the cause of her death. Recently there has been a deluge of celebrities sharing their struggles about the hurtful comments posted by netizens. Cyberbullying or trolling is an increasing phenomenon where people harass or post hateful messages about another person online. Living a life that is constantly under public eye, where your every movement, action and word is being scrutinised by the public can be daunting even for the most self-assured celebrity. Some celebrities however, have found ways around it Get therapy

Jesy Nelson, rose to fame with the pop band Little Mix. The online abuse started when Little Mix was competing in The X Factor and winning the title only made it worst for Nelson. She received a barrage of name calling and hurtful comments which caused her to spiral into depression. Recently, Jesy released a personal documentary, revealing the impact of online trolls on her mental health and her journey of rehabilitation. The documentary by BBC titled, ‘Odd One Out’ won the 2020 Visionary Honours award for Nelson. Watch Odd One Out here Take a Social Media holiday

Lizzo, famous not only for her singing but for her stand on ‘plus-size’ body positivity has taken a hiatus from Twitter stating that there were just ‘too may trolls’. Lizzo was bombarded with criticism over her comments on Twitter that a Food-delivery person had stolen her food. The food-delivery person fought back and claimed that she had unsuccessfully tried to contact the celebrity. Lizzo reiterates: "I apologise for putting that girl on blast. I understand I have a large following and that there were so many variables that could’ve put her in danger. Imma really be more responsible with my use of social media and check my petty and my pride at the door". However, the apology failed to undo the damage and the food-delivery person is suing Lizzo for inflicting trauma. But Lizzo says her departure is not forever. She says: "I’ll be back when I feel like it". Many other celebrities have also stayed away from social media including Millie Bobby Brown and Marie Tran.

Fight Back

Taylor Swift, ‘Pop Titan’ and best-selling musician of all times, has battled trolls throughout her singing career. Yet even before she amassed countless awards and accolades, it was her indomitable spirit that allowed Swift to bounce back every time. Just write a song about the one who slimes you, has been her signature approach to nasty comments. Swift has clearly mastered the art of teasing trolls and Taylurking with their own comments including featuring snakes in her album and Easter Eggs on social media in retaliation. Swift kept low for a year because of the Kardashian/ West conflict but rose from the ashes again. In her recent release ‘You need to calm down’, some believe that Swift was once again addressing her trolls in her song. You need to calm down.

One wonders why people are still taking pot shots at this artist when the list of her philanthropic deeds is as many as her musical awards. Since 2008, Swift has donated millions and spoken up for victims of cancer, flood, online predators, sexual assault, discrimination, and most recently appeared in a concert to raise funds for the WHO Covid19 Solidarity Response Fund. She is also known to do sweet things for her fans. She would personally send flowers and gift to her fans, and have even showed up at a 96 year old’s home to sing for him. With 200 million fans online, Taylor Swift has all the muscle to speak her mind, shame the bullies and retaliate in the way she does. But I’m not Taylor Swift. So now what? You have trolls crawling out of your computer screen and you are not quite Taylor Swift! Here are some suggestions you can try:

Be careful who you befriend on social media. People may not be who they appear to be on these platforms. Do not post pictures and information that other people can use against you. Don’t respond to what the trolls say. Often, nasty comments are made to get a response from you and ignoring the bully will defeat their plans to get you down. Responding is also pointless if the bully hinds behind a false persona. Keep a record of the derogatory remarks so that you have evidence of what was said in case you need to raise the case to the authorities. Take a snapshot of the post with the name of the sender, date and social media platform visible. Change your social networking settings and block out the bully. Delete all information that was posted by the bully so that it does not create copycat behavior against you. Get help from forum moderators and report the abuse to the different Social Media site providers. Tell a more mature family member, friend or trusted adult and ask them to stand up for you. Upstanding Cyberbullying

Often, we wonder why in a busy public space like social media, where everyone is looking at everyone else’s pages and comments but nobody says anything when a vicious comment is posted. Bystanders do not take the initiative to help the victim for many reasons. Some fear retaliation and being bullied themselves Some may not know what to do to address the bullying. Some feel that it is not their business to intervene as they do not know the victim or what the real situation is about. Research has shown that often, the reason for bystander inaction is because everyone is waiting for someone else to make the first move to speak up against the bullying. Once someone starts to call out the bad behavior then other people will likely join in to do what is right. How can you upstand cyberbulling? Here are some suggestion. But remember to focus on the act and the behavior itself, not the person perpetrating it. Your response should focus at calling out bad behavior and supporting the victim rather than shaming the troll. It is totally pointless fighting bullying with more bullying.

Positive Offensive – Post positive comments about the victim, point out positive qualities or commendable actions by the victim. You can also defend the victim by saying ‘ You and I have lost it/messed up too, and that should be ok’. Delete the negative messages. - Do not forward the negative comments to other people. Gather more people to post nice comments about the victim. Change the topic or use Humour- Sometimes humour can lighten up a serious situation. But be careful that you are not poking fun at someone else as you do so. E.g ‘Whoa, someone is having a bad day to be saying such things’. Object to bullying – You could write: ‘ That’s not a nice thing to say. You wouldn’t want someone to say the same thing to you’ Reach out privately to the victim- Send the victim a private note sharing your displeasure about the bullying, express your concern and show understanding for how they feel. Provide help to raise the bullying to relevant authorities Unintentional vs Intentional Bullying

Sometimes written comments can be misconstrued, as it is hard to tell the motivation behind a comment when you can’t see the facial reaction or hear the tone of voice. Unintentional bullying can happen when people crack a bad joke not knowing that the recipient is sensitive to the statement. Many people also make remarks in a fly without explaining what they really mean. Some express comments that are really a reflection of their own fears and anxious thoughts. If you have unintentionally said something that hurt someone, Apologise! Forgive yourself! and Be more mindful next time. But if a person persistently causes hurt to someone else, it could be because they have unresolved issues in their own lives. Research has shown that some cyberbullies just don't know how to empathise with others. Some bullies are actually afraid of being bullied themselves as they may have been the target of bullies in the past. And of course there are those bully's who only know aggression as the way to solve problems. We do not want to validate bullying nor encourage behavior that is hurtful to others. But we do want people who resort to bullying as an outlet for their frustrations to get help for themselves. They should speak with professional counsellors, teachers, religious or community leaders about their struggles. Get help here:

A Different Perspective.

Lashana Lynch is most recently known for her role in the movie Captain Marvel, playing fighter pilot Maria Rambeau and best friend of Carol Danver a.k.a Captain Marvel. However, Lynch’s next big role in the James Bond movie ‘ No Time to Die’, was not well received by Bond fan’s. Many fans reacted negatively when it was revealed that Lynch would play the roll of 007, as they did not think an African American ‘Black’ women should be ascribed the role of 007. Lynch however, was unfazed with the comments and responded: "It doesn't dishearten me," she said. "It makes me feel quite sad for some people because their opinions, are not even from a mean place -- they're actually from a sad place. It's not about me. People are reacting to an idea, which has nothing to do with my life." Lynch went the extra mile and text some of them with a positive message causing a few to have a change of heart. She says their reply was like: "Oh my gosh, thank you so much!" She added: "But it's an interesting test because it reminds them that they definitely wouldn't say that to someone's face." Lynch demonstrates here that when you take a step back and look at negative comments with a clear head, you can be less emotionally affected. By identifying the reason behind the negative reaction of the Bond fans, Lynch recognized that the fans were actually disappointed because of the type casting of the 007 character which failed to meet with their own expectations.

Cyberbullying is a global problem and has claimed many casualties. However, for cyberbullying to stop, we need to recognize that everyone needs to play a part and take proactive steps to change the way we behave, react and communicate on cyber space. If you are a victim of cyberbullying, engaging in self-harm or having suicidal thoughts, please call for help now:

References: Englander, E.K, Muldowney, A.M. (2007). Just Turn the Darn Thing Off: Understanding Cyberbullying.. InMARC Publications.Paper 12. Available at: http://vc.bridgew.edu/marc_pubs/12 Marano, H.E, (1995,2019) Psychology Today. Big Bad Bully- Bullies aim to inflict pain. But eventually, the one most hurt by the bullying is the bully himself. https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/articles/199509/big-bad-bully Steffgen, G., Konig, A., Pfetsch, J., & Melzer, A. (2011). Are Cyberbullies Less Empathic? Adolescents’ Cyberbullying Behavior and Empathic Responsiveness. CyberPsychology, Behavior & Social Networking, 14, 643-648. doi: 10.1089/cyber.2010.0445. Shultz, E., Heilman, R., & Hart, K. J. (2014). Cyber-bullying: An exploration of bystander behavior and motivation. Cyberpsychology: Journal of Psychosocial Research on Cyberspace, 8 (4), Article 3. https://doi.org/10.5817/CP2014-4-3 Image of Hana Kimura - Youtube: Word Association with Hana Kimura. Image/Video of Jesy Nelson - Odd One Out, BBC.com Image of Lashana Lynch - Captain Marvel Trailer, Marvel Entertainment. Image of Lizzo - Andy Witchger / CC BY (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0) Image of Taylor Swift - YouTube: The Best Outfits At The 2019 American Music Awards | Cosmopolitan UK] Read the full article

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docmurph12 · 4 years

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Ok. So two parter on CATS coming up. POSSIBLY a three parter depending on how long it takes to get through background. Here we go......

So my first request review comes from my good friend. I'm not sure how this is going to go, because I'm going whole hog on this one, again in the interest of pure objectivity.

My understanding of CATS is this. It was a Broadway musical based very loosely on T.S. Eliot's "Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats". My friends in and fans of the theater community have told me there isnt really an intended overriding plot. The Wikipedia page I found begs to differ, but they insisted it really is just a collection of vignettes, told through the perspective of a cat. Simple enough? I believe so. Now, I also understand this stage musical to have been adapted a number of times, largely for Broadway and for specific actors and actresses, with the noted exception of the film CATS (2019). Yes that one. Yes I intend to watch it. On purpose. But wait there is more. The 2019 film was trashed nearly universally but everyone before they finished the trailer and after the film was released and viewed. Most people said the performances were fine but visually it was recieved as, to put it simply, fucking wierd. I saw one review that said it was released unfinished, with a CD character model floating into the middle of a scene out of context and with no animation, a mess with texture rendering (apparently Ian McKellan has a scene where his fur just doesn't show. Like the texture is flat. Like it looks like it was published on a floppy disk alongside the original Doom). Not to mention the myriad questions that seem to come up in conversation about the character design choices as a whole. Jesus, how bad is this thing??

My resources tell me a BUNCH of super important contextual things about this one, most important of them being that this is SUPER META Broadway at it's best. Like this is the most Broadway that has ever Broadway'ed. This could be a good thing (one of my favorite musical pieces is fucking everything from Les Miserables), or it could be a bad thing (anyone that knows me knows that with notable exceptions I am NOT a big fan of musicals AT ALL, which is strange for me given my proclivity for weirdness, good storytelling, and music). This is going to be fun for everyone I think so strap in folks. This is going to be a wierd ride through furry land with a guy that wants nothing to do with it, lol. (SCORE, looking like 2 parts)

First I'll be looking at CATS (2019), because I am a glutton for punishment, and my wife says that the best way to get through this is to chew through the shit sandwich first, and then to get through the good stuff, so the good stuff is what sticks. I'm not sure I am going to enjoy either part, but I am open to it so here we go. I'll try to keep my writing as live as possible, per usual.

RIGHT AWAY, as I'm completing the Amazon rental purchase, this cast is fucking loaded. Taylor Swift, Jennifer Hudson. Judi Dench, Jason Derulo (wait, he acts too? Maybe his part is the worst part in this, I hate his music worse than I dislike Taylor Swift), Idris Elba, Ian McKellan, Rebel Wilson, and more. And that doesnt even include any love for people I am not familiar with that might carry some star power over from Broadway. So this thing is loaded for bear with acting heavies. That said, I really don't understand the comic appeal of Rebel Wilson. I don't think she is funny. You already lost me with Taylor Swift and Jason Derulo. All that said, this cast roster looks expensive.

Ok I am a minute and 47 seconds in and my first thought already is what the hell am I listening to? If this was originally put together in the 80s, and its either loved (ironically I guess?)or reviled, why would you stick with the same musical choices as instrumentation is concerned? I'm guessing I am going to have more on this later.

So completely inconsequential to the actual review the word jellicle as it relates to cats is totally ruined thanks to my learning of a word not in may people's vocabularies. Farticles. Thanks to my cousins for that one.

Alright, so full disclosure. I am not a fan of Rebel Wilson. I enjoy aspects of characters she plays, and she can be funny at times, but when your whole act revolves around one aspect of you (in her case it is that she is a large woman. Seriously its like every joke in all 3 Pitch Perfect movies) it says a lot about your ability to tell a story or joke. That said, it is so nice to not hear Rebel Wilson tell fat jokes. She is genuinely talented. It's hard to watch her in this cat suit (? Cat body? Cat war crime? More later), but it's interesting to see someone explore another side of their craft.

The sound design is...off. I'm not sure how else to describe it. You can LOUDLY hear body parts hitting set pieces. Footfalls, people jumping and grabbing on things. Like seriously you can hear it over the music. It sounds like someone got lazy in the mixing room, or they were trying to make it feel more like a stage production. News Flash. It doesn't make it feel like a stage production. It makes it feel like nobody in the production staff cared as much as the actors. I am beginning to suspect that ALL the money on this movie was spent on casting. And concept art.

I am genuinely confused by the choice to have only a couple cats wear clothes, and when they remove them, their fur looks exactly like the clothes they removed. I'm finding myself looking at things they did that wasted money. Money that could have been spent anywhere else to improve this thing.

All things considered, I could watch Idris Elba play the title character in Jaws, and enjoy it.

I'm pretty impressed by the entire cast's commitment to everything they picked up from their movement coaching. It is obvious that they were trying to incorporate a lot of typical feline movement and habitual aspects, even going so far as utilizing ballet movements for some of the dancing (probably because it is more "feline", to use the word again.) Nobody has really slipped yet. It's pretty impressive.

I think the thing that has me most surprised throughout is that this thing has the ability to elevate some (Rebel Wilson, Jason Derulo, Francesca Hayward, Jennifer Hudson, the VFX artists) and drag others through the dirt, (Judi Dench, Ian McKellen, Idris Elba, the VFX artist team), most times in the same scene. It's crazy how on one hand someone truly can astound you with their performance, blow you away with a wonderful rendition of a song some people know well, and on the other hand you see wonderful, well established actors really putting their asses into a performance that has no way of doing them service because there isn't anything there. For comparison, look at Ben Kingsley in Ghandi, or Lucky Number Slevin, versus his performance in Bloodrayne. It's really hard to watch these respected thespians work their asses off for something that won't ultimately pay off for them because it doesn't have the capability to.

Ok so halfway verdict here:

This was a fucking mess. Now I didnt see the original theatrical release, so I have no idea how truly barrel bottom things got here. I CAN say, that I can see the bones of what this is supposed to be buried in the mess of cat shit (see what I did there????).

The concept of the costuming is essentially what I imagine it is for the stage show, but seeing it in it's execution is.....disturbing. The movement coaching was pretty solid and worked well with the dance choreography, but in combination with the actual character design there is an implied sexuality in the feline-ness that makes you uncomfortable, but not in the thought provoking way, just in the "forced to look at naked people covered in cat fur for an hour and a half" kind of way. Like I was even kind of into Idris Elba's performance of Macavity, until he took off the hat and trench coat and now I'm just watching a naked Idris, but with cat ears and a tail. To be honest seeing this throughout the film really took you out of the immersive aspects of it. Not to mention that while lighting was ok, the actual character models pasted on the motion capture actors moved strangely, sometimes the faces were disjointed with the heads, sometimes textures looked unfinished (not as bad as I thought it would be but I know people that could do better than that on their computers at home.) Just a jarring experience visually overall.

The score was ugly and dated too. Or maybe not the score, so much as the instrumentation. Sound design was atrocious throughout, it seemed like the intent was to make it feel more like a stage production, but if that's the case, why go the route they did in terms of set design and all that? Being able to hear hollow flooring under heavy footfall, or people loudly slamming hands into bars they need to grab to catch themselves, or the piss poor choice in instrumentation, the whole thing feels like B roll for the DVD extras. You know what actually did great in updating the music for a more immersive experience? Aladdin. Check my first review out for more on that one.

So halfway verdict? I say a rough D. I dont see myself going back for this one, but I'm not unable to see the appeal. I just am sort of anticipating the 1998 Broadway production (part 2 of this review) so I can see what this is really SUPPOSED to be. Watch for part 2, coming later!

#cats #cats 1998 #cats the musical #broadway #movie #review

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needsmoresarcasm · 7 years

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strip that down on the charts

I don’t know if you’ve heard but Liam Payne released this song called “Strip That Down,” and like it’s totally smashing, or maybe it’s definitely a flop. Because, like, it peaked at #441 on Icelandic Hits Bi-Monthly and everyone knows that’s the chart that really matters. But it was also the most played song in the 9 o’clock hour on KISZ 104.7 in Kennebunkport, Maine, which is totally unheard of for a debut single released by an artist with four (... sometimes five?) vowels in their name. Or something.

AKA a post in which I attempt to break down how Strip That Down has been doing on the (mostly US) charts (and what those charts actually mean) because every time I run across another poorly argued stan war a little piece of my soul dies, and I’m already running dangerously low on soul.

So, how much success has Strip That Down had? The answer is, of course, it depends. On worldwide streaming services? Fucking excellent. On US digital sales for a One Direction member? Pretty dire. Overall as a debut single? As with any serious question asked to a magic 8-ball, too soon to tell. So, like, let’s just get into some charts.

The Hot 100 | Chart Run: 42 - 65 - 51 - 44 - 34 - 33

Billboard’s Hot 100 is the traditional measure of success for singles in the US, so let’s start there. The Hot 100 ranks songs using a formula that takes into accounts radio play, sales, and streaming, where 1 download = 1000 radio audience impressions = 75 on-demand streams (or 150 radio-like streams). Thus, doing well on the Hot 100 is a holistic measure of success. Two caveats here: a song may do well overall, but its peak on the Hot 100 may not reflect that if it doesn’t do well on everything all at once. So a song like Awolnation’s “Sail” peaked at #17, despite going 5x platinum, because it essentially peaked twice: once on alternative radio, and once on mainstream formats. Second, a song may be a non-factor to the world, but have an artificially high peak because of first-week sales. My guess is no one in the world could hum more than a line of Taylor Swift’s “Today Was A Fairytale,” but that song had the same peak as “I Knew You Were Trouble” thanks to (at-the-time) record-breaking first-week sales. TL;DR: Hot 100, good success barometer, but like, don’t pray at its altar. Or do if that’s your thing. idk, I’m not gonna judge, people pray to way weirder shit.

On to Strip That Down’s run. It’s currently at #34, its peak, after six weeks on the chart. After falling from its initial position of #42, it has been steadily rising for the last month. Of course, without context, these numbers are about as meaningful as tickets to a Lauryn Hill concert. So for some damn context, let’s compare Strip That Down’s run to three songs released essentially at the same time as it: Bad Liar, Crying in the Club, and Swish Swish.

Swish Swish has been a tragic circus car disasterfest, and so like, Strip That Down has at least hurdled that unfortunately low bar. It’s not quite doing as well as Bad Liar, Selena Gomez’s lead single, but is outpacing Crying in the Club, Camila Cabello’s lead single. Crying in the Club is probably the best comparison here, as a debut lead single from an artist after leaving a popular group. (Admittedly an imperfect comparison, as 1D was bigger than Fifth Harmony, but Camila’s name as a solo act is better known to US radio stations thanks to a host of features.) Of course, there may be even better comparisons. And, let’s be real, that’s what everyone is here for. And as much as I do not want to get into these comparisons, you kinda need to to get any objective sense of Strip That Down.

Again, the resounding conclusion here is that Strip That Down (goddamnit if this song had a less terrible acronym I would be saving so many characters) is... doing fine. Like, not a whole lot of surprises in any direction. It’s certainly not close to the Hot 100 success of Sign of the Times’s early run. But its run is somewhat different looking from the other 3 debuts. It has seen fairly steady growth almost immediately, whereas the other songs fell for a handful of weeks before climbing again. (The reason for this is pretty clear: sales, but we’ll get to that in a bit.) Strip That Down’s run looks most like Slow Hands, a song that’s like kiinda smashing at the moment. Overall, Strip That Down is doing fine on the Hot 100. If it falls off a cliff tomorrow, it would have had a seriously disappointing chart run. But like, otherwise, don’t lose any sleep over it, but also don’t be one of those people arguing in the comments on a Youtube video about how it’s a smash hit. If you’re arguing in the comments section of Youtube, you’ve already lost. Even if you’re right. Which, you’re not, because you’re arguing in the comments on Youtube.

[Sidebar: Strip That Down has been pretty rockin on the UK Singles Chart, which tracks streams + sales. Its run has been 3-3-4-4-4-6 so far. The UK charts turnover much quicker than US ones, so that kinda longevity is already quite good. Like, it’s sticking around for longer than any of One Direction’s singles did.]

Sales | Total Sales: 121,653 (US), 253,408 (UK)

Sales are sales are sales are sales. Not a whole lot to explain here. Early sales are driven by fanbases, and then continuing sales are driven by the “general public” - the inexplicable holy grail of stan war arguments. In the US, Strip That Down started with 52K sales, which was pretty underwhelming compared to the rest of the One Direction solo debuts. This Town sold about twice as much initially (121k in two weeks), Sign of the Times sold 3-4x more (200k in two weeks). Just Hold On sold about as much as Strip That Down. Of course, all of this leads us to the incredibly shocking conclusion that Harry has the largest fanbase, then Niall, then Liam and Louis. Now, if that’s news to you, let me catch you up on some other things: Donald Trump is President, Vine is dead, adjustable-rate mortgages are a trap, he could see dead people, Talkies are the next big thing, and there’s an entire continent west of Europe before India.

Since then, Strip That Down has been steadily growing. It has spent the last two weeks or so in the low twenties on iTunes. increasing at a rate commensurate with its exposure. A quick note here: Strip That Down has never been discounted to $0.69, and discounts actually do have a pretty significant effect on sales - 11 of the current top 20 songs are discounted. So... overall, relatively poor sales so far in the US. If it has a long chart life, its sales could end up being amazing, so the writing is hardly on the wall. If they like it, they will come. (... phrasing?)

And if you feel the need to see success everywhere you look, it’s doing really well sales-wise in the UK. So grip that fact with white knuckles and mention it any time you talk to anyone ever. Here’s a sample conversation:

PERSON: I can’t believe Sarah Huckabee Sanders unhinged her jaw and consumed Glenn Thrush on live TV!

YOU: STRIP THAT DOWN BY LIAM PAYNE WAS CERTIFIED SILVER IN THE UK FASTER THAN ANY OTHER SOLO DEBUT SINGLE FROM A FORMER BOYBAND MEMBER IN THE LAST TWO YEARS. #KING 🔥🔥🔥💯 💯 🔥🔥 👣🥑

PERSON: Wow! That information really changes my opinion of that song! That really makes me want to buy Liam Payne’s music! Thank you, kind stranger, for letting me know.

~end scene~

Airplay | Pop: #21, Rhythmic: #17, 31.234M A.I.

Radio play is interesting because it’s something fans have essentially no control over. Because no matter how many times you Twitter request a song to get in on WHYT The Hytz’s Top 7 @ 7, that’s just a drop in the radioplay bucket. Instead, it’s dominated by label support, artist familiarity, and general audience reaction. The most commonly referred to charts (on the interwebs) for radio airplay are Mediabase’s charts. (Billboard draws its numbers from BDS, not Mediabase, but in the grand scheme of things, the similarities in the tracking systems far outweigh the differences.) Mediabase keeps genre-specific charts, and charts songs based on the number of plays (spins) the song gets on those stations. Aside from spins, the other important number for radio is audience impressions (A.I.) which measures how many people heard a song. Because a spin on New York’s pop station Z100 at rush hour is going to reach more people than a spin on WSTW, Wilmington DE’s Hot Adult Contemporary station at 2AM.

The chart people care about for the purposes of stan-warring is the CHR/Pop chart, which is exactly what it says on the tin: the pop chart. And wow, what do you know, here too Strip That Down has been steadily rising since its release (chart run: 36 - 31 - 26 - 24 - 24 - 22). You’d be pretty hard pressed to argue that this is underperforming. You’d also be pretty hard pressed to argue that it’s overperforming. So don’t! No one wants to be hard pressed. Well, actually... Err, where was I? Oh right, here’s a chart.

Again, aside from Swish Swish, which, lol, the general trend for all these songs is pretty similar. Bad Liar/Sign of the Times both grew way faster with some pretty significant radio deals. Everything else kinda chugged along. Strip That Down has been seeing a pretty linear increase in spins, and if it’s going to really climb, that’s going to need to pick up. But radio is super top-heavy, in that the top 10 songs account for a huge percentage of total spins. Maybe the radio gods will deign to grace Strip That Down and it’ll sky rocket. Or maybe not and it’ll stall in the mid-teens and like, that’ll be fairly respectable.

In terms of overall audience, Strip That Down is the 58th most-heard song on radio, reaching 31.235 million/week. A majority of that is from pop stations, but a sizable chunk is also from CHR/Rhythmic stations, which are more hip-hop/r&b leaning. (And, a small slice is from Hot Adult Contemporary stations, a format that skews closer to pop rock, but generally plays every big pop hit.) Strip That Down has been seeing its biggest audience gains in the last couple days, so who knows. The world is its oyster.

Streaming | Spotify #23 (US), #9 (Worldwide), Youtube #57

Because it’s 2017 and millennials refuse to spend money on anything but avocado toast and actively staying unemployed, streaming exists. And tbh, I don’t really know shit about streaming patterns because the last time I followed music charts closely, Spotify wasn’t really a thing. And like every old person who used to know something, instead of doing the research and educating myself, I’m just gonna speculate wildly and hope no one notices when I pronounce Zendaya like it rhymes with papaya.

From my rigorous research, it looks like streaming turnover is definitely faster than radio turnover. And streaming in the US (at least on Spotify/Apple Music) trends more towards hip hop/rap. It also seems like streaming is basically its own beast, but not totally insulated from label influence. IDK how Spotify’s top hits playlists work, but like, my guess is there’s not no money to be had there.

What really matters is that Strip That Down is kinda killin’ it. It’s been gaining in the top 30 for US Spotify streams, and in the top 10 for worldwide Spotify streams for the last month. It’s definitely had the benefit of being on the most popular playlists, so that probably explains some of it. I don’t know what explains the rest of it. But like, idk, I guess the youths are digging it. Let’s visually illustrate this multiple times to place more emphasis on the streaming factor because such an emphasis would be advantageous to the perception of Strip That Down that most appeases my carnal desires.

Wow, for once the analysis isn’t “idk we’ll see how it does.” For streaming, Strip That Down has just straight up done well regardless of the context or comparison you’d like to make. It’s already a streaming success for who knows what reason.

Let’s end on that note. Please use this information for good and not evil. I don’t care if you like Liam or hate him or WHATEVER (that’s a lie, I do care if you hate Liam, because you’re a monster), but have some basic grasp of what the various chart numbers mean, please. Or if you must continue to engage in petty, misinformed arguments with rando strangers on the internet, do it in a place where there is zero chance of me stumbling upon it. (Those places don’t exist on the internet, because I will scrape into the deepest recesses of the web to find people saying nice things about Liam Payne. Because I am so bored.)

But, y’know, if your mental well-being depends on Liam’s songs performing well, then there’s definitely enough here for you to tell yourself that he’s #smashing #kingofpop #yourfavescouldnever #heynowyourearockstargetyourshowongetpaid.

#liam payne #strip that down #yall studying for a test for two months is real fucking boring #and leads to shit like this

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incorrectthoughts · 7 years

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things being addressed: (this is being edited throughout the day, this is vvvvv rough copy just need to get this all out because i am so in the zone)

The place of apathy that women have to get to in order to get over what is happening. That constant state that some of us take on when we want to look/feel powerful when walking through say, an airport, the bar, a crowd of all your exes. The best revenge is feeling good, even better, looking as though you feel nothing.

Do you see that look in her eye in that photo? Those are called dead eyes and they let you know how she feels about you.

The beginning reminds me of the beginning of BBHMM, Rihanna’s magical song. That deep bass. I don’t like anything about you, singing casually as if it’s nothing. Then the beat picks up and so does Taylor. The work begins, she rose up from the dead, she does it all the time. Depression, pressure, frustration, heartbreak, all in the days work of a woman. Oh my god, look what you just made her do. There is a condescending disbelief in her voice, she knows everything. She’s angry. You have her keys, she knows she got knocked off her pedestal. This next part is a bit of cheese but actually, it’s sophisticated cheese: it’s fancy cheese whiz. It’s actually a throwback while simultaneously bringing pop music to its next level. And then, a crescendo. Here we are again. she got smarter. Oh, look what you made her do. It’s that whispery, sexual, breathy voice, like she just did something really bad but she’s psychotic and has no emotions. She doesn’t give two fucks what she did. You’re laying there in a pool of blood. Oh.

That concept of being likeable, nice, taking the high road is no longer. Who the fuck has time for it? Certainly not Taylor, she is too busy killing the pop music game. And yet, she does care, she is a living, breathing woman. Of course she feels it, she feels everything. Her power lies in the fact that she allows herself to feel all her feelings: the disgusting, messy, complicated, confusing, ugly, ugly, ugly feelings. The ones ugly enough to write a diss track. I don’t think this track is for Katy Perry, I think it’s every single damn person who continues to bully her for simply doing as she pleases. I’ve seen the receipts, people hate her. And for what? For playing the victim? Really? She’s been hurt, haven’t we all. She’s not the victim. She’s fucking processing her feelings. Plus, have you heard Back to December? Or All Too Well where she asks if they simply got lost in translation (Which, by the way, that song, I think she makes references to songs and movies she experienced with that guy: Sweet Disposition and Lost in Translation) ? People act as though her songs represent her whole entire life when in fact they represent particular times. Taylor gets over things, have you heard Begin Again? Or Clean, ughhh, Shake It Off?

I have a problem with people, both men and women criticizing a woman for feeling her feelings and sharing them as she pleases. She could share them and no one could respond, ask any struggling singer/songwriter in any city. But here’s the fact: people are paying attention, people are listening. People are embarrassed to say how much they like her. The people doing the real work are the vocal fans: the ones who are saying, fuck, me too Taylor, I’ve felt that low and ugly and stupid. We are the ones searching the depths for answers, looking at everything so closely, everything being so damn vivid and alive and impactful.

It’s a fun thing to be an avid Taylor Swift fan and do this thing where I take myself out of the equation and try my best to listen to her objectively. She’s fucking good. Have you heard State of Grace? Have you heard Treacherous? A goddamn 21 year old wrote those poetic words. The only reason she gets flack is because she appeared to be another white blond pop star who we think will write about love, have a breakdown, and then her career would be more or less over. But Taylor has never played by the rules. Here she is at 27 about to release her best album ever. Taylor doesn’t release music unless is good and we can fucking bet that this music is going to be good.

When she gets to that part where she’s singing about being an actress in your bad dream, it’s echo-ey, liking symbolizing how she hears the criticism and negative paparazzi reaction at all times. She’s gone crazy, hence the psychotic sounding look what you made me do. Do you hear the way she says the very last “do” of the song. You can visualize her taking the recording ear muffs off before she’s even done, she’s out the door, she’s over it, she’s over everything.

Another day in the life of Taylor Swift.

#taylor swift #reputation #lookwhatyoumadedo

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thesinglesjukebox · 7 years

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youtube

HEY VIOLET - GUYS MY AGE [4.89] Guys your age will still be terrible in ten years time, too!

Katherine St Asaph: Another bleak dispatch from dating in 2017: the younger guys get to bro down, uninterrupted; the older men get the younger girls, unchallenged; and the girls wonder why all of this is so inescapably rigged. The land of pop today sexes up and markets this feeling, in song after song marketed as sexy but presenting as despair. That said, despite its over-timely chipmunking and is more a product of an earlier era; vocalist Rena Lovelis' mother and songwriter Ana Lovelis was one of the mid-2000s crop of troubled-girl rockers like Sarah Hudson, Megan McCauley and Katy Rose. There's a neat circularity to this: a strain of rock popularized by "Since U Been Gone"'s Max Martin and Dr. Luke (implications of the latter, though unavoidable, are left to the reader) evolving into sadder and synthier derivations like this, produced by their proteges. The gloom is palpable, and every critic I know despises its dominance over pop, but they blame the symptom and not the cause; songs like this exist because they reflect the world. Whether you think they should exist depends on whether you think girls should grow up with songs that are prescriptive or descriptive, role models or refuges. But after four decades of this underage-baiting being sold as prescriptive cheer, from the Runaways to Britney, can you really say this is worse? [6]

Ryo Miyauchi: No matter which vantage point, I feel some kind of anxiety from Hey Violet's hot mess of a song. When I ride passenger seat to this trashy, brat pop, "Guys My Age" rushes with that youthful, on-the-edge buzz one gets from breaking the rules. But I don't have to step too far away from the ride to know it's always one mistake away for the moment to crash and burn. While I peep what they get into with my hands covering my eyes, I can't stop watching. [6]

Alfred Soto: Using the time-honored trick of finding a musical correlative for impatience (stuttering electro backing track, repeated hook), "Guys My Age" calls shit on deadbeats who smoke weed on their girlfriends' couches. But the track's insight stops there. I cringed when the producers opted for chipmunk vocal distortions. [4]

Jonathan Bradley: Rena Lovelis hits the grinding, crawling hook with the steely eyed determination of a woman who knows exactly what she wants, even if it's something that might sound like a bad idea. If Taylor Swift's "Dear John" was an indictment of men who would use their maturity and power to manipulate their younger partners, "Guys My Age" is the counterpart reasserting her autonomy. Notable is how prominent a position Lovelis's callow ex plays in the narrative; the older man is a foil before he's an object of desire. But is "Guys My Age" a prequel to "Dear John"? One would hope not, and crucially, Hey Violet doesn't perform it as such. This is single-minded and clear-headed. [8]

Joshua Copperman: It's not that songs with more mature content shouldn't get played on Radio Disney -- between this and Julia Michaels' "Issues" both on the top of the Disney charts (I checked just to be sure), I'm somewhat delighted the good people at Disney are making an effort to capture the feelings of confused, moody, often emotionally disturbed preteens. But even that said, I can't really imagine the audience for this song, whether for those going into their goth phrase or the Halsey and co. stans that love this kind of dark pop. It's hard to enjoy a song that goes for a Lolita-reclaiming??? Suicide Squad aesthetic, or uses Dr. Luke guitars, or breaks into a flat trap beat for the chorus, or is basically a more explicit Melanie Martinez song but with none of the melodic quirks she has. Musically, this is such a mess that it doesn't matter how those with minds in the gutter interpret this or what the actual message is -- preteens and pop stans alike deserve better than this. [2]

Maxwell Cavaseno: People talk about ensuring how young people need to learn how to code, but do know who needs it the most? Musicians. In the past 30 years, technology has changed how we see everything and naturally music has too. So much music has been made from the machines, but it's taken an awful long time for bands to emerge who can craft songs LIKE they might tracks. You can see it in overt rock acts like Twenty One Pilots or The 1975, or you can sense it in the approach of The Chainsmokers. Hey Violet's former past as members of Cherri Bomb doesn't negate their presence but provides an interesting evolution of younger people abandoning their mastery of the old-school ways (because that was a tight band of kids, albeit devoid of identity) to explore the Ocean of Soundcloud approach that's starting to overtake a lot of music. "Guys My Age" is lyrically shades of Sky Ferreira and Lana del Rey touched with juvenalia as opposed to nostalgia or melancholia, uncomfortable schisms between Lolita and teen shriek ground like a sharp point into the floor. It sounds cynical to the point of scammy, but that inability to trust gives this song and this band a hint of excitement. You ever feel like the future's going to leave you behind? [7]

Crystal Leww: The two most recent songs on Hey Violet's VEVO are "Guys My Age" and a song called "Fuqboi," which should tell you what you should know about their music: this is immature teen girl content masquerading as fake feminine deep. However, they do know how to write a pretty compelling bop. That underlying wub is creepy and weird, and lead singer Rena Lovelis is compelling as a vocalist, even if she's bragging about dating old dudes in a way that mid-twenties me finds immature about late teen me. I hope and suspect they will eventually grow out of this. [5]

Will Adams: I still dislike "Habits," but I suspect that the line about picking up daddies at the playground isn't high on the list of why so many others loved it. That "Guys My Age" is bleak goes without saying -- it's 2017 -- but for a concept like this to translate well to pop requires a bit more finesse than Cirkut's languorous production. [4]

Katie Gill: Of all the songs Hey Violet has to offer, it's THIS piece of cringeworthy nonsense that gets big? At least they'll grow out of it. [2]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox ]

#Hey Violet #Guys My Age

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tinymixtapes · 6 years

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Music Review: Taylor Swift - Reputation

Taylor Swift Reputation [Big Machine; 2017] Rating: 3/5 “Here’s something I’ve learned about people.” 1 We talk like there’s only one thing. We assume the inevitability of the world the way it is. We maintain that we are singulars existing linearly in line with a reality that is already dictated, long ago and unchangeably so. Things that have been remain forever as are echos of were; the bottom line is the bottom. Things are their reputations, more or less all over again and always: “Hold onto the memories/ They will hold onto you.” It sucks sometimes, this reliance on reputation. It helps sometimes, like when you have to drag legs out of bed to get on the road to get on the clock, to get goods and achieve and survive. Some confidence in an unmoving reality is a comfort. It helps, it hurts. We wind up wrenching dissatisfaction back into reassurance. I am my me, and this oh-well world is the way things are. I don’t feel good, but maybe just enough can really actually be enough. Except if you slip once or squint a little, there’s room to glitch and wiggle. Can you see you look two ways? Can you break2 your reputation’s reflection? There’s a lot more to you than there is to you. “We think we know someone, but the truth is that we only know the version of them they have chosen to show us.” We think we know the world, but we just know the version everyone’s told us is. If we could peel back some of the inevitables, we might get something better than just enough. Are you ready for it? “…Ready For It?” is track one on Taylor Swift’s sixth studio release, Reputation. It’s a scattered and fried slab of poached sounds: some trap drums that thrum, some liberally-dropped bass gristles. Taylor Swift waxes puns (“We’ll move to an island/ And he can be my jailer, Burton to this Taylor”) and lobs lust at the object of her attentions, “Younger than my exes, but he act like such a man, so.” The Joseph Kahn-helmed video, an unpinnable and unwinnable sci-fi slop, pits black-hooded maybe-replicant Taylor Swift against captive probably-real/sometimes-on-a-horse Taylor Swift. “…Ready For It?” is impossibly stupid, a wheeling stab at a pop snarl that’s mostly burnt marshmallows. Sometimes I’m really bored by it. Sometimes I feel like dancing. There are plenty of reasons to not listen to Reputation. It’s an assertion of privileged desires (the dreary and overstuffed “King Of My Heart”) and a defense of bad choices (“I Did Something Bad,” flatulating baroque dubstep) made by Taylor Swift, who doesn’t exist, not like we do in our days and jobs and loves and dog walks. Taylor Swift Co. broke after Kanye West Inc. won, and neither of those things are real people and there’s nothing to win or lose except time and patience and maybe hope in pop music. Reputation is the boring screaming gesture on behalf of a marketing fleet, an advertisement reaching out expecting your righteous empathy. Except if Taylor Swift could be a person (she is, somewhere), she could break a little; Reputation is what those shards might sound like, little slivers swept up and chipping into each other. Reputation applied to pop’s mythological (and imaginary) narrative is part marketing strategy and part public fanfic: Britney Spears, an American Dream rotted in incubus; Beyoncé Knowles-Carter, goddess fixture birthing futures; Mariah Carey, the renewed every new year train wreck. It’s nearly always our divas who we wall up and scrutinize. And that’s on us, a failure we’re still trying to right. Even in the phantasm field of pop music (supposedly dreams, supposedly forever), we’re all too content to script and restrict the narrative. “The point being, despite our need to simplify and generalize absolutely everyone and everything in this life, humans are intrinsically impossible to simplify.” The point being, there’s a next you for you to be, if you want it. Over the sirens and clomps of her broken Reputation, Taylor Swift sings, “This is why we can’t have nice things darling/ Because you break them, I had to take them away.” It’s the sound of an anxious and confident artist striving and trying to, like on her soundest victories, connect. But where past Taylor Swifts have sheened in cohesion, Reputation is all jagged edge. It’s not edgy, to be sure: the shapes of these songs (admirably co-fashioned by Jack Antonoff and Max Martin and Shellback) welcome accessibility and the abundant, and occasionally redundant hooks are like a shark’s dermal scales, interlocked rows of teeth that sink and hit in waves. You’ll all chomp the shouted chorus of “This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things” when you’re waiting for that Black Friday night table at the hometown Denny’s; “Getaway Car” has at least five spots you’ll hum when you’re shopping for a partner’s bathrobe or a cat’s favorite holiday-shaped crunchies. You’ll be in Target. Like listening to Reputation, you’ll feel engaged and a little let down. But you might dance, too. That first single “Look What You Made Me Do” has a no-chorus that’s pretty dynamite. I swore there was nothing there until it wouldn’t go away. Taylor Swift’s care for craft remains, even if some of the flourishes are frantic. The good pop stuff (the kind that isn’t there until it won’t go away) looks like , a less-than/greater-than ballet: the artist has a single detail that gets blown up into a universal that resounds everywhere, only to re-narrow down to another individual. And for all the exhausting and eye-rolling album-roll out, the goddamn trucks, the perilously (and nearly damningly) apolitical hedging, Reputation is a testament to pop’s plastic doubling time. Taylor Swift broke some. Instead of Miley’s apologetic retreat into self-reducing nostalgia mode or Katy Perry’s cover band fart stab at #midtempo #weird, Taylor Swift and every single one of her problems doubles down on an exploratory pop mode, winked at on Red, exploded into on 1989. Taylor Swift broke some and didn’t apologize for breaking the reality we set for her. “Look what you just made me do.” And that pronoun might as well be about us. It’s Kanye and Kim, for sure and stupidly. But at its highest points, Reputation lobs pop responsibility back at the only party that matters: us. “All eyes on you, my magician/ All eyes on us/ You make everyone disappear, and/ Cut me into pieces.” Without a public willing to eviscerate and fandomize and tweet for, reputations vanish. “So it goes/ I’m yours to keep/ and I’m yours to lose.” Taylor Swift is willing to endure the idolatry and the idiocy; she’ll kill her one self dead in order to be the next new one in conversation with us (already immortal, never not cringe-worthy but also the most I’ve laughed in a pop song this year): “I’m sorry, the old Taylor can’t come to the phone right now. Why? Oh. Because she’s dead.” She’ll point us in a new direction, one different from how things look now. Like anything intrepid, it might be way off course of where we thought we were headed. But pop’s premise is plasticity, a precedent set when The Beatles and Stevie Wonder and Kate Bush promised with each next thing that the next next thing would be different and changed in some way. It would react to the world, but not without a vision to change it: “So call it what you want yeah, call it what you want to” It’s still icky. It’s important not to forget the icky stuff. Corporatizing forces will see how we like to dance and change and move forward, and they’ll sniff a buck. Part rumination on engaging with the pop icon and part deep end even after eating the meal, Reputation keeps the ball in the air, argues for moving forward, even if it’s herky jerky. It’s infuriating, how coached some of these flows are. It’s baffling how “End Game” spots guest verses from Future (!) and Ed Sheeran (!!) and manages to be a song fit snug in the part of our brains that makes us sway in the face of a world’s despairing. It’s joyous to barely see the invisible pulleys pulling my heart in on the hemi-clap of “Getaway Car;” those same pulleys almost undo the singer’s beating heart on “New Year’s Day.” Reputation is a bad idea, but it’s still an idea, the voice of a stranger I’d (want to) recognize anywhere. Reputation, almost utopia and frustrated icon splaying every direction, wishes the world in the new year will be a better place. Reputation has the ill-founded gall to actually envision what that world might look and sound like, even if it’s not this. 1. Bold text in this review is taken from Taylor Swift’s introduction to the Reputation, CD + Target Exclusive Magazine Vol. 2. (I bought this at the same Target where I bought my CD copy of Yeezus.) 2. Susan Sontag: “Photographed images do not seem to be statements about the world so much as pieces of it, miniatures of reality that anyone can make or acquire.” Reputation does not seem to be a statement about the world so much as pieces of it, refractions that shine some of our part in the pop story back on the artifact.” http://j.mp/2jMSMTN

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worthywriting · 7 years

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Not So Swift Taylor

I sit here, attempting to write this article, a bit perplexed. Allow me to explain.. As of this day in 2013, I am currently 23 years old, soon to turn 24 before the year ends, and will be eligible to have my right to a quarter-life-crisis next year once I turn 25. My life journey is a busy one, and seems to always form a lump in my throat that drops down to my stomach as I realize that I have to purchase a larger cake to fit my growing amount f birthday candles. Already I've attended baby showers, weddings, and graduate school graduations all of people who are of, or just a few years around my age. When I go on dates now, I can't help but actually take them seriously, in hopes that it might work out, date for about 2 years, get engaged for 1 year, wait to have children for 2-3 years after marriage, and give birth to all the children I want before 35. These things have to be planned now. I'm not a young girl any longer. – No one looks at me and thinks “sweet, young, innocent girl” and I am thankful that they don't. With this age comes responsibility and a grander level of associating with the world. However, one female in particular is thought of getting by as 'forever young'.

Taylor Swift, the American singer who banks on songs she writes about her ex-boyfriends and being a 'nerdy girl' delights in being thought of as the Madonna of the Madonna/Whore complex. She writes her music that speaks to the tween generation and will pout and call those “mean” who make even the tiniest bit fun of her. She loves being the thought of as that “sweet, young, innocent girl”. Theres only one problem that I have with that. Taylor and I are both the same age. Born in the same year. She is 23, and so am I.

I would love to present on academic journals of well thought out semiotic analysis of Swift's character, whether for the childish way she portrays herself, or against, but as I've searched the internet and book shelves high and low, I could not find one article on 'Swifty'. I'm unsure why her character has yet to be analyzed to a scholarly degree, perhaps she is still seen as too pure, and unfair game.

There was an article, however, that caught my fancy, granting me with a good amount of inspiration. Barbara Read's article, Britney, Beyonce and Me – Primary School Girls' Role Models and Constructions of the 'Popular Girl',is one that takes a truthful look at what it means to be a 'popular girl', any perks that come along with the status and its effect on young females. The article thoroughly explains why young females, as opposed to young males, may feel they need a role model to look up to, and takes a poll among the girls for data of who they admire at their certain age.

Read argues with support of a poll from school children, that most young girls would like to be the 'popular' girl, such as Beyonce or Britney Spears because it seems as if they have power and status which is what females tend to desire even if only subconsciously. This comparatively is what Swift, by way of her “young, innocent girl” demeanor is using to her advantage to tap into the psyche of that girl who idolizes Britney or Beyonce. What Swift is attempting to do is take the stigma of being labeled a “young, innocent girl”, or more frequently as she refers to herself, a 'nerd', and use it as a badge of honor. This is not a horrible idea, and in fact, I say “kudos” to the resistance of accepting the weight that comes with a called name and changing its definition to fit one's self. Where I feel she goes horribly wrong is that after claiming her name, she then goes after the 'popular' girls and makes fun of them for being who they are. She clearly states that there is an obvious paradox between her and the 'popular girl' in her 2009 hit, You Belong with Me.

“But she wears short skirts, I wear t-shirts/ She's cheer captain and I'm on the bleachers/ Dreaming bout the day when you wake up and find/ That what you're lookin for has been here the whole time/ If you could see that I'm the one who understands you/ Been here all along so why can't you see?/ You belong with me/ You belong with me” (You Belong with Me, Swift 2009).

There's never any mention of how the said 'popular girl' has a bad personality, or may be a gold digger, or has a record of battery and brutality or anything. Swift leaves it up to the listener (and viewer by her music video) to come to the conclusion that because the 'popular girl' does cheerleading, wears skirts and is a favorite among school peers, that she for some reason is the enemy. The character that Swift portrays as the better option is the girl who is in the bleachers because the plays in the school marching band, wears t-shirts, and is lesser known around the school. There is a clear statement that one is better than the other, and that certain traits label the female that choses to take those traits on must abide to and hate her opposite, with no just reasoning, for. Is it that Swift is taking an eye for an eye in hopes of making herself look better than the one who called her the name in the first place? Possibly, yet it seems more that Swift put the 'nerd' label on herself rather than being her own woman. This is a song of hate, attempting to pit female against fellow female in strategy of winning a taken love interest by fighting dirty and hitting below the belt for no good reason.

One might have the argument that at the time You Belong with Me was written, Swift was 19 years old, and thus still being a teenager in her last teenage year, is granted the permission to still write songs as such to get her angst out. Yet, in 2013, as Swift is 23, her single, I Knew You Were Trouble, was released on the public with the same tone of whiney lyrics, giving the impression that she mentally remains a child and feels that the blame game is becoming.

“Once upon a time a few mistakes ago/ I was in your sights, you got me alone/ You found me, you found me, you found me/ I guess you didn't care, and I guess I liked that/ And when I fell hard you took a step back/ Without me, without me, without me” (I Knew You Were Trouble, Swift. 2013)

This is only one of the many songs that Swift has written where she plays the victim. Each time she writes a new song, it is unclear which of the 14 (yes, 14!!) men she has been romantically linked to since 2008 that she is singing about and whenever prompted to reveal who in an interview, she shys away from the question. Many of these love interests lasted for only a month or so, but still get a whole song dedicated to how shes so hurt, or they're mean, or she didn't know.. but what kind of sweet girl dates around so much and then, to add injury to insult, writes bashing songs about them. Not a very wise decision for someone of Swift's fame to do, especially when in the balancing act of wanting to get back at an ex and remain “America's sweetheart”, her balance may be becoming increasingly uneven to her once loyal fans as they begin to notice the many boyfriends and lack of mental growth in romance and the art of handling personal situations.

The image of a sweet, innocent, young, bubbly (and most often times) blonde singer singing songs of sweet love and dreams written down in her diary is one that is meticulously crafted by the big wigs of the entertainment industry, and once the perfect girl is found, the label will be attached to her until by her own demise, she messes it up by being human. This is, I feel, the case for Taylor Swift. Even though Swift is pop, has always been pop and has always had a very pop sound, when she first broke into the world of music back in 2007 with her first single, Teardrops on My Guitar, this girl from the city of Reading, Pennsylvania, was marketed as a 'good ole country girl from Nashville' who was brokenhearted because a boy broke her heart and now the only thing she could do was cry as she strums her guitar out in the country.

That single became a big hit with females who could empathize with Swift and felt that as a good American girl from the country, that the boy who broke her heart must've been a real jerk. But the single when released was in fact released as two singles. One with more of a country twang, and the other with light pop overtones, and since her debut back then, the music she has produced has been overwhelmingly induced with a pop vibe rather than her original market of country, yet she still is thought of as a country artist and is often nominated every year for the Country Music Awards. From time to time she might wear a pair of sparkly country boots on stage at one of her concerts and pretend to play guitar, but as far as being country goes, thats about it for her.

The more dominant pop stars of the 10's new millennium are wildly unafraid. Stars like Rihanna and Lady Gaga frequently forget their pants in favor of wearing a bedazzled pair of underwear on stage instead. Marijuana is the drug of choice that they without shame will publicly toke up. The world of pop music is dominated by females in their early 20s who are not afraid to show skin, sing songs filled with innuendo and move in a sexual nature. These females aren't thought of as young, innocent girls; they're fantasized as musical sex objects. So, with the perspective of how pop stars generally behave/dress/present themselves, it does make sense that to introduce a new pop star, but with a lighter, sweeter image, the music industry will attempt to sneak one in, faintly disguised as country music. Swift doesn't prance around in the latest fashion bikini, or flip off the paparazzi as they snap her photo, for she aims the keep her role of childlike innocence. But the problem is that Swift is a child no longer, and is only looking more pathetic with age. And attempting to keep up with the image, though growing older each day, might end up blowing up in her face by way of her fans not buying the role any more, as was the case that Melanie Lowe explains in her article, Colliding Feminism: Britney Spears, “Tweens and the Politics of Reception”.

Lowe's article is a study she conducted where in 1999, at the peak of American pop's wave, she surveyed the thoughts, comments and reactions to the most popular pop stars, with the most famous being Britney Spears, the happy blonde from Kentwood, Louisiana. She explains that as soon as she sat down with these “tween” (ages 10-12) girls and merely asked of their opinion on the pop princess that they had a wide variety of opinions ranging from waning admiration to most notably the calling Spears a “slore” (slut and whore). These reasons seemed to stem from Spears's progressively changing wardrobe from t-shirts and fashion-friendly cargo pants to belly baring crop tops and ripped jeans. Not only was it the fashion, but the way in which her songs were becoming more blatant of its innuendo. The tweens said of how they liked that she had and exercised her right to wear what she wanted, yet at the same time they found her promiscuous for doing so. The classic case of being dammed if you do, or dammed if you don't.

While I do feel that Britney Spears's path, one where she was initially and continuously marketed as an innocent, young but sexy pop princess, may have been a tad different from the road Taylor Swift is going down, I still feel that the reaction by the tweens and general public will be the same. As of lately, more and more fans of Swifts are beginning to take off their rose colored glasses they'd been disillusioned with and are starting to recognize Swift's stagnant ways in which shes not growing with her fans, but more trying to recruit whichever age is currently in their tween years.

Swift is not a nice, country girl. She never has been, but for a while she put up an almost believable front. There are only so many girls she can point the finger at before the ladies ban together and realize who the true mean girl is. There are only so many guys she can date before the public sees her as the common link and figures out that she is the problem. There are only so many times she can sing her hit single '22' until she realizes she's 44. It's past time to grow up, Taylor.. either join the real world, or save up enough money to purchase the Neverland Ranch.

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thesinglesjukebox · 4 years

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TAYLOR SWIFT - BEAUTIFUL GHOSTS

[3.50]

Taylor takes a chonce...

Thomas Inskeep: Where we learn that Swift has ambitions of writing relentlessly overblown, ridiculously florid Broadway songs just like her co-writer, Andrew Lloyd Webber. And god, her keening vocal on this makes me want to punch someone. [0]

Alfred Soto: Her voice is not her strongest element, a fact this farrago overlooks. By comparison her accent on "London Boys" is a Meryl Streep Oscar stroke. [2]

Katherine St Asaph: I don't mind Taylor Swift being on this, in theory (in voice is a somewhat different proposition); Sarah Brightman was a dancer in Hot Gossip. Nor do I want to reassign this piece to Andrew Lloyd Webber's cat. I could even, begrudgingly, stop minding that Nile Rodgers worked on this, or that there's a gratuitous Phantom reference, or that the whole thing is a worse version of Jekyll and Hyde's "A New Life," when Cats already had the blueprint for "A New Life." But I do mind there being no structure, melodic, emotional, or otherwise. [3]

Katie Gill: The idea of adding in a song to CATS kind of misunderstands the structure of the musical. You see, CATS already has a big awards bait song, "Memory," which is musically is integrated into the show via a prelude at the end of act 1, other cats singing the tune at various point, and the prelude ending with a leitmotif often heard throughout the show. HOWEVER, now "Beautiful Ghosts" exists. It's positioned as a direct response to "Memory" and ALW loves his goddamn leitmotifs so logically it should sound like a response to "Memory", but it doesn't! It just sounds like a Taylor Swift song! Likewise, if this song is a direct response to "Memory" then one would think it would come AFTER "Memory" or the "Memory" prelude. However, "Memory" is the emotional climax of the show and the prelude is the Act 1 finisher, neither of which are a good time to add in a pop song to kill the plot. "Beautiful Ghosts" should really be positioned as a response to "Grizabella the Glamour Cat" because the transition between that song and the next one is an awkward spot in the musical that the pop song + a bit of dialogue could help smooth over. HOWEVER, if you position "Ghosts" as a response to "Grizabella" then it'll occur way too early in the film and also rob "Memory" of its lyrical impact. Part of the big impact of "Memory" is that you've had two goddamn hours of fiddle-dee-dee Jennyanydots whimsical nonsense and then WHAM, we go right into "touch me / it's so easy to leave me" which gives us the big, giant, emotional impact that "Memory" deserves and dammit, I don't have anywhere else to write about how this addition means that ALW fundamentally misunderstands his own musical so y'all are going to have to put up with me here. [4]

Jackie Powell: What makes this recording so charming is how practically imperfect it is. And I mean that as a compliment. The attempt at a British accent aside, Taylor Swift did her homework. And I'm not talking about T.S. Elliot, which I'll return to. This performance reminded me of Roland Barthes' "The Grain of the Voice," an essay that discusses how perfect vocals aren't what always sell a performance. The French philosopher and critic pontificates that a singer who is compelling has what he refers to as a "grain" or the "body in the voice." In other words, when Swift embraces her weaker while spectral head voice on the verses, cracks on the last line of the bridge and forces her belt on the last note of the entire song, she embraces Barthes' "Grain of the Voice" almost to a tee. Her belting is far from bodacious and like Jackson McHenry of Vulture, I question if this Andrew Lloyd Webber penned melody was really meant for Swift. But ALW did, in fact, need her. "If you can't get T.S. Eliot, get TS," she said while in the studio with Webber. "I'm here for you." And TS does study up on T.S. In "Beautiful Ghosts," Swift penned a lot of gerunds and descriptive nouns that have shapeshifted into gerunds. Or sometimes she just uses the suffix -ing more than twice the amount that Elliot employed it in his 1915 poem "Hysteria." In between all the "Chonces" being "Bawn into Noothing" and being "let intou," it's endearing to get a sense of Swift's acting chops via listening to her inflection, diction and even her ability to weld some dynamics that we don't often hear in her own catalog. But Swift was in between too many decisions. Was this supposed to be a pop version of a Broadway-style song? Was this supposed to be akin to Demi Lovato on "Let It Go?" (Maybe not, as we all know which version of the song is sung at karaoke.) But with all else being equal, Swift shalt have made a commitment to one of these two worlds: she's now clinging to pop but Broadway is now calling? She's straddling between these two islands and it doesn't work as well as she might have "waaanteed." [7]

Isabel Cole: Is it weird that I think I would like this better if it were more awful? Taylor Swift and Andrew Lloyd Webber are not similar artists, but they are two people who have between them made [checks spreadsheet] a million bajillion dollars by being wildly extra and unafraid of leaning the fuck in. Many of my favorite Taylorisms are fun because of their hyper-earnest theater kid melodrama (just think of the tremor with which she sings another girl in "Style"); many of my childhood memories involve belting "Memory" in my bedroom. But this is just so... dull. TS + ALW 4 CATS sounds like a nightmare of unhinged excess, but this could be any generic Best Song Oscar also-ran; the most interesting part is that she reuses the best line from "Fifteen." Worse, these artists who can write a hook that will be stuck in your head until the end of time somehow came together to write a melody so sprawlingly uninspiring I cannot hum it after several listens. There's nothing here even to make fun of beyond (objectively funny) Taylor's sporadic British affectations. Like, come on, guys: I'm not sure you can do better than this, but I know you have it in you to do worse. [2]

Alex Clifton: Cats didn't really need a new song (nor, frankly, did we need the new nightmare adaptation) and I'm mixed on Andrew Lloyd Webber at best, but this still hits my heart somewhere, especially with Swift's breathy delivery for the first half of the track. I am both surprised and annoyed to relate to a song sung by a cat. Points deducted for chooooooooooonces. [6]

Natasha Genet Avery: Let's dispense with the obvious: 1. That newfangled British accent is...something. 2. Playing into her favorite victimhood narrative, Swift's contribution to Cats *had* to one-up Grizabella ("At least you have something!". 3. This is blatant Oscar bait. Now onto the meat: Cats is a corny and embarrassing head-scratcher. Cats is why people don't trust musicals. I love Cats. To me, to anyone who has been in a musical, musicals are about unreasonable, outsized commitment--you peel off your self-protective shield of irony and spend dozens, if not hundreds of hours donning clown-school makeup and spandex, somersaulting across the stage and belting the praises of storybook animals. If you're entrusted with a big number, you practice and practice until your delivery is technically masterful, if not heavy-handed. Beat me to death with that vibrato. Fuck me up with those dynamics. Leave it allll on the stage. And so, when Taylor set out to out-emote "Memory", she agreed to take on 30 years of mockery, three key changes, Elaine Paige, 600+ professionally recorded covers, and countless school productions and karaoke renditions. A lot of people fault Taylor for being a try-hard (I've always found it sort of endearing), but here, she simply didn't try hard enough. Swift admitted that she wrote most of "Beautiful Ghosts" "immediately after hearing the song for the first time." Without T.S. Eliot's hand, Beautiful Ghosts" is empty, untouched by whimsy. Oh, and the singing: Swift is sorely out of her depth, and mostly opts for limp falsetto, culminating in a strained, awkward belt. We'll see what Francesca Hayward does with it, but for now "Beautiful Ghosts" should get booted from the clowder. [3]

Wayne Weizhen Zhang: I consume music of all genres voraciously -- with the exception of musical soundtracks. This is for a number of reasons: 1) I haven't seen a lot of musicals, 2) for the ones I have seen, I tend to find the music and lyricism overwrought and boring, and 3) I would prefer to just listen to artists' original music outside the parameters set by some make believe world. I was worried that I would have a tough time trying to check my own bias in reviewing this song, but am now relieved and confident in asserting that "Beautiful Ghosts" is objectively bad. In an alternate reality, this could be a compelling country-lite track on Fearless or Red, or even a synth heavy ballad on 1989, but here, Taylor just sounds drowsy with a weird British accent, selling a metaphor that makes about as much sense as the utterly bizarre Cats movie trailer. [3]

Andy Hutchins: One tweet that has stuck with me is the one that correctly called Reputation — before its release, even! — the final boss of 2017. I think Cats might play a similar role for the final days of 2019 and the first month or so of 2020, even if its pitch is obviously to a smaller segment of the population than pre-Crisis Taylor reached. So how convenient it is that we have Taylor here, indulging her theater kid impulses with none other than Andrew fucking Lloyd fucking Webber co-writing, singing her heart out in the ingenue role she's clung to throughout her 20s for better and worse (which is, hilariously, not her role in the film itself!), pining for something wild for what feels like the 20th time. "Beautiful Ghosts" is as subtle as a hurricane, and churns powerfully, and Taylor almost hits that note at the end — the strings wouldn't swell if she'd hit it perfect, of course. It's good. Fine. Whatever. This sort of hopeful schmaltz is so safe, though, that it mostly makes me wish that Taylor were still willing to take excursions from beaten paths: That way lies "Style," even if you might have to double back from the doorsteps of "Look What You Made Me Do" or "End Game" on occasion. [5]

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#Taylor Swift #Cats #pop #music #music review #writing #musical

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