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scoutofmymind · 2 months ago

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SCOUT omfg i just read your latest drabble and i’m on my knees begging you to write a little scene where hasan actually says the words ‘That’s my good boy. That’s it, baby.’ to Lu??? pretty pleaseee?

HAHAHAAAA IVE GONE MAD AND LASAN IS IN ITALY

We love them, we cherish them, we are small but mighty my precious Lasan Lovers

THIS IS GIVING SLIGHT CMBYN AND IT WASNT ON PURPOSE MORE SO JUST THE FACT ITS BASED IN ITALY AND ITS GAY???

Luigi is a mouthy brat and Hasan truly tries to be the Responsible One ™️ but who can resist a gorgeous needy boy with lashes LIKE THATTTT??????

I told yall I know how to write smut…… I’m just best at writing the gay kind.

This might be sloppy , I did a very quick edit!

Also I added one Turkish word bc I couldn’t stop myself. balim means my honey 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

"No," Hasan swats at Luigi's wandering hand as it reaches for his cobalt swim shorts, watching Luigi's brows furrow at the quick retort, a flash of defiance crossing those dark eyes. "Hands off, Casanova."

Luigi doesn't even try to mask the whine in his voice as he asks "Why?", his index finger finding and curling around Hasan's pinky in a gesture half-pleading, half-playful. He shifts his weight on the old storage chest at the foot of the bed, the weathered wood beneath him housing memories in the form of childhood blankets.

Hasan occupies one of the villa's many guest rooms, while Luigi claims his childhood bedroom — the same one that had sheltered his summer dreams until he was seventeen.

These days, the short hallway between their rooms no longer feels like the museum of expensive maiolica it once did. Now, when the house grows quiet and still, Luigi finds himself padding barefoot across cool tiles to slip beneath Hasan's sheets, or sometimes it's Hasan who appears like a shadow in Luigi's doorway.

“Your billion year old grandmother is here.” Hasan says harshly, his tone hushed and secretive as if her hearing was better than theirs.

Luigi scrunches his nose, his chin tilted upward to look at Hasan, “Nonna’s in the kitchen.” He trails, as if he wasn’t understanding the concern. His voice is rough around the edges from being his rowdy, mouthy self in the pool earlier when water volleyball became competitive, his cheeks rosy from the sun, lips pouty with thought.

"I don't understand what you're not grasping," Hasan murmurs, his attention drawn to the wide-open door where Mediterranean light pools across the terracotta tiles in molten streams. A deceptive silence flooding through the entrance — not true silence, but rather an orchestration of summer sounds devoid of human voices.

Goldfinches trill their melodies from the ancient olive grove, their songs weaving into the crystalline cascade of the centuries-old fountain that whispers through the shuttered windows. "I like it here," he continues, his voice mellowing into something tender and uncertain, "and I'd like an invitation ba-“

Luigi unfurls his body in one fluid motion, his toes catching the edge of the heavy door and easing it shut with practiced grace.

He nudges a Ferragamo against its base — a charmingly futile attempt at fortification. "My Ma loves you," Luigi breathes, a drowsy summer smile blooming across his sun-kissed face. His fingers find their way back to the drawstring of Hasan's swim shorts, tugging with newfound boldness while droplets of pool water still trace lazy patterns down his wrist. "Haven't seen my Dad laugh that hard in ages," he adds, voice warm with affection and tinged with something deeper, more meaningful — the unspoken suggestion that Hasan belongs here.

With him.

"Exactly. Again, Lu." He threads his fingers through Luigi's damp curls, still cooling from the afternoon swim, and Luigi melts into the touch with the same yearning intensity he's shown since the very beginning. "I don't understand what you're not getting."

"No one else is here," Luigi murmurs, pressing his head further into Hasan's palm like a sun-drunk cat seeking affection. His fingers find their way to Hasan's waistband again with practiced familiarity — four digits slipping beneath the fabric while his thumb traces a bold path over Hasan's steadily hardening cock, the dampness of the swim shorts doing little to mute the sensation.

“Your fucking gran-“

“She can’t hear or see shit, Hasan.”

The birds seem to grow a little louder, the wind in the trees making the noisy leaves dance right outside his window.

Earlier that morning, Luigi's cousin Elena — a precocious eight-year-old with limited English but boundless enthusiasm — had claimed Hasan as her personal project over breakfast.

While he'd sat there in his morning stupor, dark hair still mussed from sleep and heavy eyelids behind his glasses, she'd meticulously painted his nails the same blue as his swim shorts. Between careful brush strokes, she'd taught him Italian with all the authority a child could muster, her small hands gesturing animatedly as she pointed to objects and pronounced their names.

That was the moment, really — watching Hasan repeat ‘forchetta’ and ‘cucchiaio’ with exaggerated care, his newly painted fingers splayed across the weathered garden table, that Luigi felt something fundamental shift in his universe.

Luigi had barely cleared the lingering taste of Hasan from his mouth before desire bloomed anew in his chest — though this time, it stemmed from something deeper than physical hunger.

It was the way Hasan had leaned down to Elena's level, matching her enthusiasm with patient smiles and careful pronunciations, and the tender manner in which he'd guided her small hands through Turkish letters drawn on napkins, trading ‘günaydın’ for her ‘buongiorno’, his voice dropping to a gentle murmur that made Luigi's heart split open.

It transcended mere attraction — It was paternal, it was nurturing, it was so achingly domestic.

"You're making me feel like a fucking dog," Luigi grumbles, rolling his eyes with the dramatic flair of someone who's never learned the art of patience, someone used to getting what they want, the afternoon sun catching the green flecks in his irises and turning his frustration into something almost luminous. "Since when do I have to beg to suck your dick?"

"Since we came to your childhood summer home, where your parents and grandmother fucking adore me," Hasan counters, his fingers sliding down to the nape of Luigi's neck where they press a gentle reprimand into warm skin. The touch carries equal measures of affection and restraint, his thumb tracing absent patterns against Luigi's hairline. "And I'm sorry, Lu — for or some weird reason, I don't want to ruin that."

Luigi already knows how desperate he must look, pupils blown wide and lips parted, but something about Hasan's determination to preserve his standing with the Mangione’s only stokes the fire burning beneath his skin.

There's something devastatingly attractive about this man who charmed Elena over breakfast, who laughs at his father's terrible jokes, who helps his mother with the dishes — that still makes Luigi ache with want.

Another not-so-silent silence stretches between them, filled with afternoon birdsong and distant fountain murmurs, while the cogs in Luigi's usually-genius brain whir into motion.

His expression shifts from frustrated to calculating, that familiar spark of mischief igniting behind his eyes — the same look that preceded every brilliant idea and terrible decision since he was a teenager.

"Will you watch me, then?" His tongue darts out to wet his lower lip, a deliberate provocation disguised as an innocent gesture.

Hasan's shoulders ease their tension, his thumb circling around to trace the delicate geography of Luigi's Adam's apple while his palm finds its familiar haven at his nape. "Yeah," he murmurs, the word carrying both permission and warning.

He pulls away with visible reluctance, each centimeter of separation a small sacrifice, before settling onto the bed.

Luigi pivots on the storage chest to face him, movements fluid and deliberate. His swim shorts hit the terracotta tiles with a wet slap, revealing the stark boundaries where golden Italian sun meets paler New York skin — a map of summer days spent in the pool, of mornings tending to Elena's herb garden, of lazy afternoons stretched out on the villa's stone terraces.

"If anybody walks in, Nicholas," Hasan drawls, wielding the middle name like a weapon that makes Luigi's breath catch, "I'm closing my eyes." His voice drops lower, honeyed with amusement. "And you'll look like a fucking perv jacking off to me sleeping."

The warning only serves to paint a deeper flush across Luigi's sun-kissed cheeks, his pupils dilating at the dangerous game they're playing. He masks his excitement with a scoff, shifting on the wooden storage chest until he finds the perfect angle — one that displays everything, that turns his vulnerability into a weapon.

His hand wraps around his cock where it stands proud against his belly, already slick at the tip.

"Wouldn't be the first time," he manages through quickening breaths, leaning back on his left hand while his right traces lazy circles around the head of his cock. The afternoon light streaming through the window paints him in chiaroscuro, highlighting the tremor in his thighs, the way his chest rises and falls with each carefully measured breath, the flash of teeth against his lower lip as he fights to maintain his composure under Hasan's steady gaze.

"Do you know how ridiculous you are?" Hasan's brows furrow, head propped against a pillow still carrying the scent of his cologne. His gaze rakes over Luigi, who had shed feelings of shame like an ill-fitting uniform years ago. "You can't even go twelve hours, Lu. It's concerning." The judgement carries the familiar cadence of lectures past, delivered in that same tone that walks the razor's edge of disappointment and arousal.

This is the typical lecture, one Luigi has heard countless times — in their apartment's kitchen, in museum bathrooms, in the back of taxis.

Always with that same undertone of feigned disapproval that does nothing to mask the way Hasan's pupils dilate, the way his breath catches, the way his fingers twitch with the effort of maintaining control.

Though Luigi has never truly figured out if Hasan means it, because inevitably, invariably, Luigi will break him.

It's as certain as the tides, as predictable as the sun setting over the horizon — Hasan's resolve crumbling like ancient ruins beneath the persistent waves of Luigi's appetite for him.

The only variable is time.

The siren at their imagined shoreline — in reality, just the foot of the guest bedroom mattress — knew precisely how to arrange himself for maximum effect.

Luigi had mapped every microexpression that crossed Hasan's face over the years, catalogued each caught breath and stifled groan.

He knew Hasan preferred him in positions that highlighted his strength; the corded tension in his forearms as he braced himself, the fluid roll of muscle beneath sun-bronzed skin, the way his biceps flexed and shoulders strained under his own weight.

So he puts on a show of muscle and sinew.

He arches his back just so, letting afternoon light catch the dips and valleys of his body, knowing how the shadows will pool in the hollow of his throat, the curve of his spine, the planes of his abdomen. Each movement is deliberate, designed to chip away at Hasan's infamous self-control.

The first fracture in Hasan's defense manifests in that telltale gesture — his hand splaying flat against his stomach, just above the waistband Luigi had been desperate to breach moments ago. His eyes remain intent but soft and Luigi can't help but smile at the familiar sight of Hasan's resolve beginning to crumble.

"You come every time I do," Luigi retorts, voice rough with promise as he spits into his palm. The crude gesture is transformed into something almost elegant by the deliberate way he wraps his hand back around his cock, the afternoon light catching the gleam of wetness on his skin. "So, I don't see you making it twelve hours, either." The observation lands like a well-aimed arrow, precise and devastating in its truth.

Because for all Hasan's lectures about restraint, for all his carefully maintained control, he's just as helpless against this gravity between them — this pull that makes every separation feel like withdrawal, every touch like salvation.

Hasan groans softly, the sound caught somewhere between surrender and amusement as his lips curve into that familiar smirk.

He melts further into the mattress, whether from the plush comfort beneath him or his perpetual weakness for Luigi remains unclear. "Guilty by association, hm?" The words carry a warmth that belies their teasing tone, heavy with years of shared moments just like this one.

Luigi feels the gentle nudge of Hasan's foot against his folded knee, a casual point of contact that somehow manages to send electricity racing through his already oversensitive skin; his breathing has turned ragged, chest rising and falling in quick, shallow pulls, and a delicate flush has spread across his body like watercolor bleeding across paper. "Mhmm," he manages, the sound more breath than word, his usual sharp wit dulled by the heat building low in his belly and the intensity of Hasan's gaze tracking every minute movement of his hand.

His movements grow more desperate, jaw going slack as he works himself with practiced precision. His attention fractures, torn between Hasan's steady gaze and the evidence of his own arousal — the pearl of precome catching the light as it slides over his knuckles, his nipples drawn tight against the cool air, the hypnotic flex and release of muscle beneath golden skin with each wave of pleasure that crashes through him.

Every stroke brings him closer to that precipice, his body an instrument being played to perfection.

"On the bed." Hasan's command comes rough and low, accompanied by a pat against the empty space beside him — another crack in his carefully constructed restraint. “C’mere, balim”

The words carry enough weight to make Luigi's breath catch, even as a triumphant spark ignites behind his eyes.

He relocates with fluid grace, positioning himself at an angle that lets Hasan see everything, the mattress dipping beneath his weight as he spits into his palm again. The new position brings them close enough to share breath, close enough for Luigi to catch the subtle changes in Hasan's expression as his control continues to slip away like water through cupped hands.

"Fingers this time." Hasan's words hover between question and command, but Luigi nods eagerly regardless, as if this had been written into his strategy all along, another step in his careful choreography of undoing.

And that's when the final fracture appears in Hasan's carefully constructed stronghold, bringing the entire fortress tumbling down.

His palm finds home against Luigi's burning thigh, his own cheeks flushed with more than just the afternoon heat. The pretense of a mid-afternoon nap abandoned, he's now fully present in their shared moment, caught in the gravity of Luigi's orbit as he always inevitably is.

Luigi huffs out soft breaths, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Touch me," he whispers, voice tight with need, but Hasan remains unmoved by the request.

"Not how you ask for things.” Hasan reminds him gently, thumb tracing idle patterns against Luigi's thigh.

Another quiet sound escapes Luigi's throat, followed by a more earnest: "Please touch me." The words carrying all his vulnerability, all his trust, laid bare in the afternoon light streaming through the opened windows.

"Mm, that's my good boy," Hasan murmurs, the praise falling soft and private between them, his hand wrapping around Luigi's length, finding it hot and slick against his palm. The effect is immediate — Luigi's face transforms with pleasure, lips parting on a silent gasp as his body responds with involuntary tremors, hips seeking more contact with desperate, aborted movements. "That's it, baby.” Hasan breathes, his voice carrying that particular tenderness reserved only for moments like this, when Luigi finally lets himself be guided instead of leading.

"Just as bad as me," Luigi manages between ragged breaths, his usual composure fracturing under the onslaught of sensation.

His own rhythm falters, fingers slipping free as he braces himself instead, palms pressed hard against the sheets as his hips roll with deliberate precision into Hasan's grip, each movement drawing another soft sound from his throat.

Sweat gleams across his skin like morning dew, and his dark green eyes, heavy-lidded but intense, lock with Hasan's amber gaze in a connection that feels almost tangible in its electricity.

"Look at you.” Luigi breathes, the words carrying equal parts wonder and satisfaction.

Hasan's movements slow to an almost lazy pace, his body shifting toward Luigi with the casual grace of earlier sunbathing. "Always gotta run your mouth, don't you?" The words carry no real reproach — instead, they're wrapped in something closer to reverence, as if Luigi's endless commentary is as essential as air. "Hm?"

His free hand traces idle patterns against Luigi's hip, a counterpoint to the deliberate stroke of his other hand, the touch both grounding and maddening.

Luigi huffs softly, his hips working in desperate rhythm against Hasan's grip. "No," he manages through clenched teeth, a whimper catching in his throat. "Just wanna remind you—" The words come between heaved breaths, defiant even now. "The soapbox makes you taller, but you don't really need the height."

The gentle flame in Hasan's eyes ignites into an inferno.

In one fluid motion, he has Luigi on his back, his own swim shorts joining the growing collection of discarded clothing on the villa's tile floor.

Luigi's thighs fall open in welcome, bracketing Hasan's broad frame like they were made for this exact purpose. "Is that right?" The words rumble low in Hasan’s chest as he spits into his palm, adding to the slickness already there, his fingers find their target with practiced ease and Luigi's body responds like a well-tuned instrument — a moment of tension followed by immediate surrender, as if his sharp tongue and Hasan's touch are the only constants he truly knows.

"Sì." Luigi whispers, his eyes heavy-lidded and unfocused, fingers weaving through Hasan's soft waves, "And as much as you might wanna deny it," he draws in a sharp breath through clenched teeth, the sound dissolving into a gentle moan, "You want it just as bad as I do."

Hasan hums in agreement, leaning down until their foreheads touch, finally letting their lips meet in the messy, desperate kisses. The contact feels like coming home after too long away, like the first rain after drought. "Of course I do." Hasan's nose brushes against Luigi's, tender despite the heat between them. "It's my self-control I'm hoping to instill in you."

A breathy laugh escapes Luigi, more air than sound, interrupted by more desperate, messy kisses that speak of long-denied hunger. "Yet, here you are.” he breathes against Hasan's mouth.

Hasan can't argue — doesn't want to argue — with the clever demon beneath him who's managed to back him into the sweetest of corners. "Mhm. Here I am." he rumbles, the words vibrating through both their chests.

In one fluid motion, his fingers withdraw and he pushes his hips forward instead, their bodies connecting like puzzle pieces finally finding their match.

A whimper tears from Luigi’s throat when Hasan bottoms out, the sound raw and honest, stripped of all pretense as afternoon light catches the sweat on their skin, turning them both to gold.

Luigi's body arches beneath him like a drawn bow, every muscle pulled taut with pleasure, his smart mouth finally silenced except for the desperate sounds Hasan pulls from him with each careful thrust.

He unravels completely, his cheeks flushed deep crimson, dark curls dampened anew with sweat. His eyes struggle and fail to focus as Hasan begins to move — a deceptively gentle rhythm that lasts only moments before transforming into something more primal, Hasan's hand finding purchase on the aged wooden headboard to muffle its protest against the villa's ancient walls.

And now, in a turn that would be almost amusing if they weren't both so far gone, Luigi finally seems to grasp the virtue of obedience and silence.

His hand clamps over his own mouth, overwhelmed by the cascade of sensations that wash over him with crystal clarity, each one distinct yet harmonious in their assault.

The way the gentle sway of Hasan's gold 'L' necklace between them catches the light with each movement, a hypnotic pendulum marking time.

The slick heat where they're joined contrasting sharply with the cool breeze drifting through the windows, making his nipples tighten to aching points.

He feels full in ways that transcend the physical — not just from Hasan inside him, but from the weight of this moment, from the particular tenderness Hasan maintains even in his fierceness.

It's a contradiction that makes perfect sense; how Hasan can be both storm and shelter, both force and gentleness.

"Look at me, baby," Hasan whispers, fingers gentle as they brush sweat-dampened hair from Luigi's forehead, thumb tracing the arc of his cheekbone with impossible softness.

Luigi tries to comply, but his world has split and doubled, everything soft at the edges like a painting left in the rain.

This version of Luigi — undone, unguarded, stripped of his usual sharp edges and clever deflections — is Hasan's favorite, though it's a rare gift to witness it.

Completely enthralled, taken, and surrendering every ounce of control.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ pretty.”

Hasan probs comes inside him and like eats it out by the window to make a point that if Luigi wants to take it there, he’ll take a it a mile further.

Thank you for reading I love you

#Lasan #my brain is eaten by Them rn #req #i love you

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kazukazuhas · 2 years ago

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˗ˏˋ ꒰ 💌 ꒱ old friends, lloyd garmadon.┊ ˚➶ ｡˚ ☁️

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 💌 ꒱ act one ;; scene five┊ ˚➶ ｡˚ ☁️

୧ ⎯⎯ GREEN NINJA

୧ ⎯⎯ WARNINGS ;; some stalking ;; alluding to robbery and possible murder ;; some injures ;; lloyd being a cute dude ;; reader has anxiety and not have that strong of a will to live

୧ ⎯⎯ NOTES ;; who knew that i would forget to included the other main character for a little bit. i tried to write anxiety to the best of my ability, but i'm tired af rn

୧ ⎯⎯ PREVIOUS ┊MASTERLIST┊NEXT

୧ ⎯⎯ 1 IMAGE ;; TEXT [CLICK FOR BETTER QUALITY]

maybe this was a bad idea: coming to the store by yourself without anyone else to accompany, to chase away and ease your nerves. anxiety began to rack its thin finger against your heart as the car parked off to the side of the pavement. nya checked her phone quickly, angling the screen just short of out of your sight but you don't bother about what she's busy with both out of decency and being out of it.

�� the car's safety tried to call you back, singing a song of comfort as you reluctantly stepped out of the vehicle to complete your own tasks of the day. nya, while in the midst of your worrying and fastening breath hidden behind the disposable mask you grabbed, mentioned something you don't quite understand entirely from the slightly deafness you felt but nonetheless the least go along with it as she starts the car, waves and finally drove off to her own destination. maybe you should've let pixal when she offered to accompany you– well too bad it's too late now.

it's quick, you think to yourself to reassure the panic from settling in, a simple in and out. all you needed was a few things and you'd be out in a jiff, and the house was nothing but a good ten minutes away– you choose to believe that it is near instead of its realistic distance being further rather than closer. you hesitantly step inside the small convenience store, counting all the heads you see before walking around the side of the aisles to find the one you needed exactly.

relief flooded you like a thin stream of mist, the bell rang as the last person and their child, who was half embarrassed by their mother, left the store while bidding a rather noisy goodbye to the clearly tired cashier, who only rolled their eyes before continuing on with their own personal work. you pick the things you need up quickly, checking their prices quickly before grabbing a pack of some ramen you liked and a few energy drinks from one of the neatly packed fridges. skylor did say they normally restocked the night before saturday. with a good attempt, you tried to seem calm while walking up to the cashier.

they greeted you softly, still in their own haze of thought and daydreaming when you get to them after a quick moment. they half-smiled before continuing on with their job, taking each of the items from your short list and cashing them. their calm energy radiated and softened your nerves for a moment. they were just someone no older than you, mostly fresh out of high school and maybe even trying to make ends meet? or they were trying to earn enough to cover the cost of university or college, you couldn't tell.

it was something so fascinating about the whole — outside a single perspective, were the interesting lives of thousands of millions to billions, all filling the pages of their books with ink crafted to them in their own unique writing.

they handed you the bagged items and slip after they received the cash you handed back to them, letting out a small farewell greeting and going back to their own work and continuing on with their day. never caring of whether it was the last time you'd see them or if this was just the first.

but your mind was at ease– maybe you were hyper fixated by anxiety thumping against your head at first but it ceased, at least until you made it halfway down the road. something warned you, a gut feeling that meshed with anxiety and worry that told you to turn back and call someone to pick you up. your heart picked up the pace the faster you began to walk, your breath left you in a heave and pant.

regrettably, you spare a look behind you.

nothing.

the anxiety rushes forward, sending your nerves on an electrified run the moment the presence lurking after your steps vanishes from your sights and senses. it crashed roughly and flooded rationality, but you kept the fast pace and reframed from breaking out into a desired sprint back to skylor's place.

the steps became loudly, your sometimes false suspicion was now correct; someone was following you and not so discreetly. from the sound of the footsteps, they were heavy and following your exact direction you were heading. and you doubt they were of good intentions.

"fuck– please go away," you whispered under your breath, the only person who would have only heard was yourself, but you heard the desperation and fear that something might happen.

if only you were in shape, it's been forever since your last workout or try to keep yourself fit and in good health. since your high school career started coming to a close in your last couple years, it swiped you of any energy and time you had left outside your preexisting tuitions and classes. sometimes you wonder how you were still standing when you didn't have any of those energy drinks.

there was a drunken snicker from behind you, warily you glance back and catch the sight of a stranger watching you walk at a fastened pace with the utmost interest and caution.

you turned, a wrong one by your misjudgement and settling panic rising further than before. you notice you're panting slightly at how your body is coming to terms with how hard its work to keep you moving. vaguely you noticed the mistake you made, you were supposed to take the turn after. and it might cost you gravely.

your skin itches, a crawling feeling stretches up your arm and it becomes unreal how disgusting you begin to feel the moment the stranger grabs your arm. they grabbed you— it takes a moment to register that they managed to get a hold on you, but now your back hits the hard wall with a thud that rings heavy against the street's bare, lonely walls. the pain cracks through your body, a thick hurt fleet from your back and along your body with a burning touch. that's a faint sound of the contents from your run earlier meeting the ground, its vague against the loud ringing echoing in your hazy mind.

the stranger asks of something from you, their face blurry with the sky and wall meshing together. they ask a second time, louder and much clearer but it still didn't reach your hazy mind.

silver, no. a shiny grey moved from side to side in your sight, it was getting hard to see from your hazing eyes and tiredness getting to you. nothing seemed real at the moment, maybe your head hit the wall as well– oh that could be a concussion.

there was yelling, there was someone else who caught the attention of the stranger who thought of taking advantage of your half conscious state to take your hard earned cash, maybe something darker, death. it would be fine if the latter had occurred, you think. you close your eyes reluctantly.

"hey, hey–" the other stranger called to you, the one who chased the other one off. you found their clothing funny, all clad in green and black with a hood and mask hiding their face from everyone. "what's your name? can you tell me?" you tried to focus on their voice, the stranger sounded as young as you. you answered them with your name, fading from consciousness for a moment. their voice brought you back, "do you know who i am?" you shook your head as much as you could manage to, resting your face in the hand they held it, your face with.

"i'm the green ninja." ninja? so they were real?

"gonna pick you up- okay there we go. i'm going to take you to the hospital, do you have an emergency contact?" the ninja asks slowly, letting you process each word before saying the next. they wait patiently but not saying a word, but kept moving, you don't notice the rooftops and breeze until you reopen your eyes.

"skylor chen." the ninja chuckles, seemingly knowing of who to call. they quietly thank you for the answer before jumping to the next rooftop and onwards until finally reaching the hospital.

haze. haze all you felt.

you all but remember that day, except you'll remember the person in the strange clothes. they were quite interesting.

୧ ⎯⎯ PREVIOUS ┊MASTERLIST┊NEXT

୧ ⎯⎯ TAGLIST ;; @spoopy-fish-writes // @spoops-inliyue ;; @decaffeinatedcloudkryptonite // @shaantiofher ;; @sunangelstears ;; @comicbookweirdo ;; @cl0udyw4ter ;; @chamille-trash ;; @candy884422 ;; @rossivette // [pm/send in an ask to join]

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 💌 ꒱ kazukazuhas copr. 2023 darling┊ ˚➶ ｡˚ ☁️

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notyouraryang0dd3ss · 1 year ago

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Having a #1 Song doesn't mean SHIT anymore! It doesn't mean the song is a hit.

Let's be so serious rn. Nobody knows any of her damn fault track that keep charting. I asked my mom to name one song of hers and she could name "Shake it off."

Smooth Criminal went #7 in the US.

Remember the Time went #3 in the US.

Heal the World went #27 in the US.

They don't care about us #30 in the US. But it still went viral on tiktok. A song that is almost 30 years old!!

Thriller the song also never went to number one, but ask people to name one Halloween song they gonna name that song.

And what is more impressive, having 1M EAS the first day or still selling 1M EAS 15 years after your passed and more than 20 years after you dropped an album. Longevity is quality. 1M first day sales she's gonna sell that much for years. Hell, she be lucky if she even sold 50k in a year in 30 years.

5 music videos of his that are made in the 80's and 90's are about to have 1 billion views this year.

Billie Jean still gets 1M daily streams on Spotify.

I'm sorry if you aren't an Mjfan and I bring him up but he's the best example I can give you also because Swifties keep comparing her to him.

If people don't like the song they won't keep listening to it. And if Taylors song just stay in her fanbase and they just massstream her shit. Nobody is gonna know this song in 20 years.

Because what is the last hit Taylor Swift had that was known to the general public? Anti Hero maybe? Cruel Summer?

And something that is also funny is that, Remember when her drunk self got on stage and snatched the grammy from Celine Dion and didn't even look at her.

And people were pissed and her team was quick on working getting a picture with her to mend the damage.

Celine Dion has 5 Grammys and Taylor Swift has 14.

But they knew that Celine Dion got more respect from the GP then Taylor will ever have. And that is something you cannot buy. And they know if someone wins out of pure talent or just because of favourism. And let's be real. Most people know these award shows are rigged and they don't care about it.

Like when RollingStone came out with that fuck ass best singers list that put Taylor at #102 and excluded Celine Dion. People were mad that Celine was included but Taylor was.

Or just recently they also called her the better Adele. Nobody from the GP was like oh yeah that is true.

I mean they can try to name her the Queen of Pop in one of the award shows alà Michael Jackson style, but it's not gonna work with her. When he got that name people actually agreed and they still do. Outside Taylors cult nobody will agree with that.

Taylor's Team is aggressive with the Marketing and pushing these numbers onto us because they know outside of it she has nothing to offer. Her talent isn't marketable. Her singing and dancing isn't that impressive. The most marketable things about her career are her wealth and business success. Have they ever talked about her performance while she is on tour. What is so impressive what she does on stage? No they just keep talking about the money she makes.

No I completely get why MJ is a relevant comparison here. Swifties do keep comparing TS to him and for that alone they need to collectively get their asses beat. But you used good examples and I just want to applaud you for that

& you’re right, I can’t name a single vault track. Every time I’m exposed to her its against my will through my recommended (and its usually so out of place too because i watch really weird video essays).

Charts truly don’t reflect cultural impact because Drunk in Love by Beyoncé never went #1 and neither did Toxic by Britney Spears but both are super well known. Anti Hero is probably the last single to go #1 but I genuinely felt harassed by that song 😭 its sooooooooo bad

Yes! The vocal trinity—Celine Dion, Mariah Carey, and Whitney Houston—have done SO MUCH for music and all have less than half of Taylor Swift’s amount of Grammys. Celine and Mariah each have 5 and Whitney has 6.

I didn’t watch the Grammys this year (forgot to) but I heard about the Celine Dion incident I was SHOCKED because the audacity of this woman! Her entitlement shows in everything she does and she’s really starting to believe her commercial success makes her a better artist.

THE ROLLING STONE LIST WAS BULLSHIT. THEY DIDN’T INCLUDE JENNIFER HUDSON EITHER! Their definition of a “singer” was soooooooo bullshit too like that magazine’s merit has gone down so much in the past 20 years it should be regarded with way less status and credibility. And who tf called TS better than ADELE?

You’re right, her moniker will be chosen by the general public (probably from a viral tweet/tiktok/etc).

And she needs aggressive marketing because she really is a below average musician in all respects! She has her songwriting but she should’ve just been a hit songwriter (like Estelle Dean) not a singer. What makes her marketable is very “ordinary” image—which makes her relatable to “every girl, like me and you” 🙄 her soft voice really creates an intimate atmosphere especially with her vulnerable (but superficial) lyrics. She has to be friends with her fans for her success to work. Because there is no way you can justify her being regarded as a “god” the way people do with Beyoncé and MJ otherwise.

🎯 with the Eras Tour coverage. No one ever references or cites a particular jaw dropping vocal performance or dance number. It’s always the amount of wealth she’s generating.

#ask #anon #anti taylor swift #mj #beyoncé #celine dion #artist comparison #eras tour #notyouraryang0dd3ss #mariah carey #whitney houston

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jimin-updates · 8 months ago

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Jimin’s Who surpassed 500 million streams!

It becomes the fastest k-soloist solo song to hit this milestone:

And one of the fastest songs to reach half a billion streams of all time:

Our goals for Jimin remain the same, so please, stream!

#jimin #park jimin #bts jimin #who by jimin #record breaker jimin #record maker jimin #Spotify records #Spotify

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secretcheesecakecowboy · 6 months ago

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https://www.tumblr.com/secretcheesecakecowboy/766903723408621568/httpswwwtumblrcomsecretcheesecakecowboy76541

Instead of worrying about Jimin’s album sales and streams, maybe you should ask yourself why Taehyung sold over 2 million in album sales but his title track still couldn’t manage to debut higher than Jimin’s pre release. How is that organic? Someone sells over 2 million but his streams barely match his album sales, but I guess it makes sense when you consider V china bar putting together millions to mass buy albums that no one cares to stream. Ask yourself why Taehyung has over 60 million followers, gets the most likes and views on almost everything but can’t get even 1/4 of those IG followers to stream his songs on Spotify. If just half of his IG followers streamed his songs even once a day he would be doing much better than he is right now but I guess they are only interested in his face and nothing more. Take away his face and see how very few people give a damn about him.

Instead of sitting here talking shit about Jimin who is making history and breaking records everyday, exert this energy into streaming for Taehyung because he is literally getting forgotten musically and only remembered as an influencer or brand ambassador. Jimin is on his second billion plaque while Taehyung is yet to get one, hun, you have much better things to worry about and you are your anon sound like two dumb bitches telling each other exactly, talking about album sales and streams. Since you want to talk about album sales, explain to me in simple English why Taehyung sold over 2 million in album sales but none of the songs from his album could debut higher than someone else’s pre release? Tell me why he sold so much yet his streams are ridiculously low? So a bunch of people just had money to throw on albums which they probably dumped but don’t care to actually sit down and listen to or stream the songs? If I were Taehyung I would feel sad because apparently my fans don’t give a tiny rats ass about my craft but are only interested in my physical appearance. Taehyung known for years as the most popular member yet in the solo era, there is no difference between him and hyung line💀. Come for Jimin again and I will tell you things about your fave that you are not ready to hear. Concentrate on imagining him fucking his bandmate and leave Jimin out of your fucken mouth unless you want me to spell out to you how your fave is more of a let down than Jimin could ever be.

Hahaha. Get the fuck off my page you hag!! I'll come for you and anyone I want! Your precious Jimin would be disgusted with your behavior. While you're a warrior Karen, he HATES people like you. Taehyung will always be on top, he will always be well loved, his music is real music, he's talented, smart, kind, loyal, and humble!!

Wasn't gonna post this, but people are really unhinged and so unhappy these days. You should get help, asap. You sound crazy!! Thoughts and prayers for you, darling.

#my ask #people are unhinged #go cry about it

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louisupdates · 1 year ago

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VIDEO

The former One Direction will perform in Chile on May 24 at the Bicentenario Stadium in La Florida with his "Faith in the Future" tour. We talked exclusively with the British star who went from being a teenage pop idol to a professional soccer player, and finally to consolidating his own more mature and rocking sound. This is the successful present of the artist who loves to sing as much as he loves to play ball.

Dove Couple

Monday, April 8, 202408:10 am

[Translated from Spanish]

In 2022, Louis Tomlinson stepped on Chile for the first time alone to present his debut album "Walls". A bet that exceeded any expectation, because the madness was such that the British, that the former One Direction filled the Movistar Arena three times.

But that was not all, his fans had prepared a surprise for him that, as he confessed to La Cuarta, gave him "goosebumps." During the chorus of the song "Kill my mind", the young women organized themselves to coordinate the lights of their cell phones, creating a kind of mesmerizing wave, leaving the singer and his team speechless, so much so that the moment was recorded in his documentary "All of Those Voices". Moreover, the photo of one of those concerts was nothing more and nothing less than the poster.

But the music that makes him vibrate so much was not always his first choice in life. In 2013, just when the One Direction world tour that brought them to Chile was announced with two concerts at the National Stadium, Louis signed a contract with the League TwoDoncaster Rovers team, and only in 2017, two years after the group took an indefinite break, he was able to debut as a substitute in a match witnessed by more than five thousand fans.

“It's really an honor to be in the club where I spent most of my childhood," he wrote at the time on his Twitter account. However, the boy's dream stagnated when in 2020 and in the middle of the pandemic, he decided to launch himself as a soloist. All of his former bandmates had done it; it was his time.

Thus Louis - whom we recognize with nostalgia, familiarity, and a psychological interest - became one of the most important artists of his generation, adding milestones such as a billion streams on Spotify, numerous awards and being in the Guinness World Records book for breaking the record for the most watched live broadcast concert of a male soloist.

"I FEEL VERY GRATEFUL TO HAVE THAT LOVE HERE"

On the day of the interview with the newspaper, we arrived at the Mandarin Oriental Hotel where the interpreter stayed two days after a successful presentation at Tecate Pa'l Norte 2024 in Mexico, and a promotional step through Brazil. Despite the fatigue, he maintained a good attitude with the press, but mainly with his crowded fans outside the venue, who shouted his name from time to time.

Being in front of a pop idol who has spent half of his life on tour, in conferences and with a handful of iconic songs that marked more than a generation, is truly intimidating, but Louis makes anyone lower their guard because he welcomes you as if he were your friend. Wearing a pair of relaxed jeans, black t-shirt and sneakers in tune, he smiles and greets us in a friendly manner. Although he is surrounded by people who make up his team— overwhelming— but this is his natural environment; and thus begins a dialogue with La Cuarta about his two passions.

Q: Louis, you return to Chile in May after filling three arenas on your last visit, something historic! What will it be like to return with that powerful precedent?

Louis: I feel like my Spanish is coming back! I almost knew what you were asking (laughs). I'm very excited, I feel very lucky to be able to perform in an enclosure of that size in my... well, technically on my second solo tour. I feel very grateful to have that love and passion here. I'm mainly very excited about these shows.

Q: In several of your "Faith In the Future" songs, you talk about nostalgia, changes and the passage of time. Are they topics that you think about frequently or only arise when composing?

Louis: Yes, I would say that I am a little bit of a deep thinker. I think it helps me as a songwriter, but I also think that nostalgia is a great thing to write about. It’s a great topic to feel as a listener and also to write as a songwriter. And I'm also interested in psychology, so anything that makes the brain feel in a certain way, I think it's interesting.

Q: What would the 32-year-old Louis with a successful second album under his arm and a new tour say to the teenager who applied to The X Factor in 2010?

Louis: I would insist that he should do it. I think there is definitely an element, in every young person in that situation, there is something very terrifying that makes you want to start. But I would also tell you, what I have learned the most, to trust your instinct, trust that feeling and be brave to make decisions, the right decisions for yourself.

Q: Among those decisions is to be the last 1D member to make your solo career, and today we are here with "Faith In The Future" that sounds 100% yours. Looking back, how do you see the path has unwinded?

Louis: I feel very comfortable. The mentality I have now feels very different from the one I had when I started this trip as a soloist. I feel very blessed to be able to continue making music. But it's also a very nice feeling and it's something very new for me to feel so comfortable on stage and so comfortable when I'm making the music I want to make. In general, yes, I am very happy.

WHEN CHILE DRISTLED HIS SKIN

Q: Louis, I imagine there must be some time in your career when you said, wow, I did it!

Louis: You know, I used to resist that idea, ‘cuz for whatever reason, I don't know, I never wanted to give myself that, I suppose… my brain. But I have, I have started trying to have those moments more for myself. It often happens on the live show. It can be something that fans did together, like some kind of fan project. But also, even when I played the festival just now, in Mexico, that was one of those moments. I was kind of nervous going out there, and the audience was so vast, but people seemed to be having a good time. So yeah, it was great.

Q: Now that you mentioned the fan project, when you came to Chile, your followers prepared one for the song "Kill My Mind" that was beautiful. How did you experience it from the stage?

Louis: I had no idea that was going to happen! I know that fans often do their own little fan projects, in a way of doing something fun for me and something unique at every individual show, but I didn't know what to expect. And to be honest, that— literally gave me goosebumps, it was such an incredible spectacle. And, again, like always at these shows, and especially in Latin America, you’ve not got like ten people giving it a go, everyone in the room is participating! It’s a very euphoric thing for me to see from the stage.

Q: Changing the subject, football is one of your passions, what place does it occupy in your life today?

Louis: I would say that definitely, before I was in the band, nothing came close in my life, football was my IT. Now music is. I absolutely love football, but for me nothing comes close to music. Obviously it's my job, that's important, but as a fan, I'm talking more like a fan, I probably don't watch enough football these days, I'm usually busy, but I catch up with the "highlights" (the most important moments of the game). It's still a big part of my life, especially when they play in England. I'm excited for the next European Championship. We're going to win it!

Q: Of course! [England] is the parents of football. Finally, what makes you happiest today?

Louis: The family, definitely, the family and friends. And specifically in my work world. It's live concerts. That gives me amazing feelings.

#La cuarta #louis press #louis interviews #fitfwt24: santiago #4.4.2024 #louis quotes

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dailytomlinson · 1 year ago

Text

Louis Tomlinson, two passions and one direction: “I absolutely love football, but for me nothing comes close to music”

The former One Direction will perform in Chile on May 24 at the Bicentenario Stadium in La Florida with his “Faith in the Future” tour. We spoke exclusively with the British star who went from being a teenage pop idol to a professional footballer, and finally to consolidating his own more mature and rock sound. This is the successful present of the artist who loves to sing as much as he loves

In 2022, Louis Tomlinson set foot in Chile for the first time alone to present his debut album “Walls” . A bet that exceeded any expectations, since the madness was such that the British, that the former One Direction filled the Movistar Arena three times

But that was not all, his fans had prepared a surprise for him that, as he confessed to La Cuarta , gave him “goosebumps . ” During the chorus of the song “Kill my mind” , the young women organized themselves to coordinately move the lights of their cell phones, creating a kind of hypnotizing wave, leaving the singer and his team speechless, so much so that the moment was recorded in their documentary “ “All of Those Voices . ” Furthermore, the photo of one of those concerts was nothing more and nothing less than the poster.

But the music that makes him vibrate so much was not always his first choice in life. In 2013, just when One Direction's world tour was announced, which brought them to Chile with two concerts at the National Stadium , Louis signed a contract with the League Two team Doncaster Rovers , and only in 2017, two years after the group took an indefinite break, he was able to debut as a substitute in a match witnessed by more than five thousand fans.

INTERVIEW UNDER CUT:

“It is truly an honor to be at the club where I spent most of my childhood,” he wrote on his Twitter account at the time. However, the kid's dream was stagnant when in 2020 and in the middle of the pandemic, he decided to go solo, all of his former bandmates had done it, it was his time.

Thus, Louis - who recognized us as being nostalgic, familiar and interested in psychology - became one of the most important artists of his generation, adding milestones such as one billion streams on Spotify , numerous awards and being in the Guinness World book. Records for breaking the record for the most-watched livestreamed concert by a male soloist.

“I FEEL VERY GRATEFUL TO HAVE THAT LOVE HERE”

On the day of the interview with the pop newspaper , we arrived at the Mandarin Oriental Hotel where the performer spent two days after a successful presentation at Tecate Pa'l Norte 2024 in Mexico, and a promotional tour of Brazil. Despite his fatigue, he maintained a good attitude with the press, but mainly with his fans gathered outside the venue, who shouted his name from time to time.

Being in front of a pop idol who has spent half his life on tour, in conferences and with a handful of iconic songs that marked more than one generation, is truly intimidating, but Louis makes anyone lower their guard because he welcomes you. as if he were your friend. Wearing a pair of relaxed jeans, a black t-shirt and matching sneakers, he smiles and greets friendly, he is surrounded by people who make up his team, overwhelming, but it is his natural environment; and thus begins a dialogue with La Cuarta about his two passions.

Louis, you return to Chile in May after filling three arenas on your last visit, something historic! What will it be like to return with such a powerful precedent?

I feel like my Spanish is coming back! I almost knew what you were asking (laughs). I'm very excited, I feel very lucky to be able to perform in a venue that size on my... well, technically my second solo tour. I feel very grateful to have that love and passion here. Mainly I feel very excited for these shows.

- In several of your songs on “Faith in the future”, you talk about nostalgia, changes and the passage of time. Are these themes that you think about frequently or do they only arise when composing?

Yes, I would say I'm a bit of a deep thinker, I think it helps me as a songwriter, but I also think nostalgia is a great thing to write about, it's a great thing to feel about as a listener and also to write about as a songwriter. And I'm also interested in psychology, so anything that makes the brain feel a certain way, I think is interesting.

- What would the 32-year-old Louis, with a second successful album under his arm and a new tour, say to the teenager who applied for The X Factor in 2010?

I would insist that he should do it. I think there's definitely an element, in every young person in that situation, there's something very scary that makes you want to go. But I would also tell him, what I have learned the most, to trust his instincts, trust that feeling and be brave to make decisions, the right decisions for yourself.

- Among those decisions is being the last member of 1D to go solo, and today we are here with “Faith in the future” which has a sound that is 100% yours. Looking back, how do you see the path you have traveled?

I feel very comfortable. The mindset I have now feels very different than when I started this journey as a solo artist. I feel very blessed to be able to continue making music. But it's also a very nice feeling and it's something very new for me to feel so comfortable on stage and so comfortable when I'm making the music I want to make. Overall, yes, I am very happy.

-Louis, I imagine there must have been a moment in your career when you said, wow, I did it!

You know, I used to resist that idea, because for some reason, I don't know, I never wanted to give myself that. But I've had it, I've started trying to have those moments for myself. It often happens during concerts, it can be something that fans did together, like entertaining fan projects. But also, even when I played the festival now in Mexico, that was one of those moments. I was a little nervous going out and the crowd was so big, people looked like they were having a good time. So yeah, it was amazing.

- Now that you mentioned the fan project, when you came to Chile your followers prepared one for the song “Kill my mind” that was beautiful, how did you experience it from the stage?

I had no idea what was going to happen! I know that fans often do fan projects, in a way to do something entertaining for me and something unique in each show, but I didn't know what to expect. And to be honest, I remember getting goosebumps, it was an incredible show. And, again, always in these concerts, and especially in Latin America, there are not ten people, everyone in the venue is participating! It's a very euphoric thing to see from the stage for me.

- Changing the subject, football is one of your passions, what place does it occupy in your life today?

I would say that definitely, before I was in the band, nothing came close in my life, football was everything to me, now music is. I absolutely love football, but for me nothing comes close to music. Obviously it's my job, that's important, but as a fan, I'm speaking more like a fan, I probably don't watch enough football these days, I'm usually busy, but I catch up on the highlights. ). It's still a big part of my life, especially when England plays. I'm excited for the upcoming Euro Cup, we're going to win it!

- Of course! You are the fathers of football. Finally, what makes you most happy today?

Family, definitely, family and friends. And specifically in my work world, it's live concerts, that gives me amazing feelings.

Louis Tomlinson will perform at the Estadio Bicentenario La Florida on May 24. General ticket sales are available through Ticketmaster.cl

#040424 #louis tomlinson #lacuarta24

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solarsturniolo · 10 months ago

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YOU LISTEN TO DEFTONES, RADIOHEAD, AND FLEETWOOD MAC?!

Yes!! I’m actually incorporating deftones into one of my stories so it’ll play a big part in the plot. But radiohead and fleetwood mac are always in the top 5 in my spotify wrapped hehehe

Creep by Radiohead has over a billion streams on spotify and i swear i’m half of them LMAO i listen to that song like it’s pure heroin being injected into my veins

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #i need him in a way that is concerning to feminism #sturniolo imagine #anon answered #send anons #anon ask #thanks anon!#anonymous #nat yaps #nat speaks

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mrs-monaghan · 2 years ago

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How do you explain the number of likes? The number of taekook pages? The number of video? And the hit tweets that taekook duo get on twitter? Taekook as ship get more likes from the fandom. Even taekook as duo is more popular than jikook. Just because jm is loved by many it doesn't mean that tkkers are not half of this fandom. Look at views on youtube..tae and jk focus videos have more views than jimin..jimin did great with his solo debut because he is more popular than rapline but taekook will get more views and streams and attention than jm. Even if some armys are not tkkers (i mean crazy shippers) and they like jm, they have taekook as bias and they will work harder for them. You will see that I'm right after taekook debut.

Taekook gets more views because it has the most shippers. Of course its gonna get more views. Because people are too stupid to watch original content or too stupid to recognise manipulated footage. Anyway, shipping is shipping. Let's talk business.

JK just like V doesn't have an album out yet.

All your talk about YouTube, anon. Where is V? You said he was more popular than Jimin on YouTube, where is he?

JK just hit 1 Billion once again with old songs V has old songs too. Where he @?

Jimin is at 900 Million

Jimin and JK are always number 1 and 2 on the sell out list. They are sell out Kings. Literally. Everything they touch sells out.

I have no clue wtf this is but I dont see V 🧐

Need i remind you the only members who's portfolios sold out and had to be restocked were Jimin and his gods, JK the vampire and Suga in the woods? Yoonminkook are the only ones who sold out and had to be restocked. (At the time of release that is. Idk how it is now)

Then let's talk Dior, Calvin Klein and Celine. Dior and CK stocks shot up but I'm yet to hear a peep about Celine though. 🤔 and even if I'm wrong V has Lisa and Bogum as well so.... 🤷🏽‍♀️

Need I remind you again that V's vogue magazine where he was on the cover did really badly while Jimin's... well.... you know where I'm going with this.

Anon, its okay to be V biased. I love him too. Thing is though,

Get back to me when his album is out. ✌🏽

#ask shaz #bts ask #jikook #power couple #jimin is king #kookmin #jimin and jungkook #bts #minkook #jimin #park jimin #jungkook #jeon jungkook

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schismusic · 5 months ago

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In the shadow of the horns: meditations on Team ICO's works – 2. ICO

[Disclaimer: as always, spoilers for ICO are to be expected, and so are spoilers for Shadow of the Colossus since we've already discussed that one. Reader's discretion is advised.]

This one I wrote in a massive rush, because I only realized that I hadn't written anything about ICO yet right about when the time came to actually post this piece on here. I wanted this to be out before Christmas, see, not for any specific reason – I just wanted to make sure I was writing stuff that makes sense, more or less. I'm still taken aback by how much time it's taken, considering my Shadow of the Colossus piece was written more or less entirely between Colossus 2 and Colossus 6. As such, that particular piece contains a glaring mistake, that Tumblr user @crooked-mantis thankfully pointed out. Mantis's intervention is as follows:

While I did know the voice when Wander is transported back to the Shrine was supposed to be Mono's, I did not remember her calling Wander by name, specifically – and after reaching Colossus 9 and Colossus 14, I was pleasantly surprised to hear exactly what Mantis mentioned. So, again, thank you for pointing this out, and I'm glad you still enjoyed this piece that I titled after a song by Darkthrone just so I could make a stupid joke.

The beauty of Ico lies in the fact it seems to disregard the conventions of an average videogame, if you're not looking too hard. The first thing I did after completing ICO again was to put on some Kraftwerk – Computer Love, to be exact – because that same exact comment could be made with regards to their post-Autobahn production almost as a whole. Trans Europe Express and Radio-Activity, at least to an extent, tinker with that divide between their profoundly poppish writing style and that weird, destructured, post-1968 thing where even a pop song's structure can be broken down into something more than just function and role. All the same, ICO (Kraftwerk's music) is tightly designed, with recognizable hooks and welcoming moments that allow the player (listener) to immediately understand what they have to do. Here's a bubbly cursed boy. Here's a girl who's spent her whole life in a cage. They're trapped in a castle and evil shadows want to kidnap the girl. Have you done the math yet?

youtube

Right before I went back to the game myself, I happened to catch a friend of mine – @alexswordsman – as they streamed part of their first playthrough on Discord. I was struck by the realization that I had absolutely no recollection of a lot of moments from the game; but what truly surprised me is just how much of the game I did keep in my memory, and not just story bits (that would be easy, considering the campaign's length) but also entire rooms' worth of environmental puzzles, fights against the shadow children, the genuine sense of dread when leaving Yorda alone or when hanging from some iron pole, a good hundred meters above any solid ground. As I spent some time thinking about this, and a good couple of weeks after actually going through the game again in something like two and a half sittings, I realized that it really did take me a loooooong time to realize just for how long ICO was a game about the story, for me. The answer was of course quite a fucking lot – a whole year after my first playthrough or something, specifically. I remember telling some girl in my class about it, back in 2019, because I was an insufferable bastard who felt really alone but could not relate to other human beings on any fundamental level. Poor girl, I think she actually did feel some modicum of attraction towards me, but unfortunately I was very much not prepared to return it. The point being: for the longest time, apart from when I replayed it back in 2020, I genuinely thought of ICO as a story to be told, something to be read off of a Wikipedia page a billion years ago. As the previous piece (and, if you've read them, my other pieces about Team Ico, the Italian ones) might have clarified, of course, coming back to the games with a slightly more informed outlook has worked wonders for me.

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Where Wander's core moveset would focus preeminently on violence and hostile action, Ico's was softer, less specialized, harder to describe. R1, which you have to hold down, allows you to hold Yorda's hand (or call to her, if she's away from you – much like Agro and Trico after her, buttons used notwithstanding); Square swings whatever blunt – or edged, or spiked – object you've got in your hand, but Ico is canonically like nine, so it's safe to assume he's not a fighter, or a climber, or a horserider. The one thing he can convincingly is seek out human contact: the one thing he is denied, as a horned kid. Yorda, on the other hand, has no such preconceptions: she may actually have no preconceptions, period, apart from her knowledge of a certain power and a certain purpose assigned to her. At the same time, Yorda starts out basically clueless but learns very very quickly: you explode the pillar holding the bridge up, then next room over you have to blow up some wood planks blocking the way forward and – assuming you've seen the bombs and the open flame right near the entrance – Yorda runs up to them and points at them, which is very clever foreshadowing of the second act's climactic moment. If Yorda is seen by her captors as a machine, built entirely as a means to an end – becoming the Queen's new body – then it has to be a fully functional one, shoutouts to Lieutenant Commander Data, but this has the side effect that she can learn trust. She can learn affection.

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No surprise then that R1 would be the key to hold Yorda's hand and call out to her. R1 is where the important stuff is in Team Ico's games. You hold R1 to core-mechanic your character into winning, i.e. into exerting emotional stimuli over the player, and it's no surprise that as such every time you're doing the R1 stuff the games tend to give you incredibly strong and constant sensory feedback. The controller vibrates, almost mimicking a heartbeat, as you're holding Yorda's hand. Alessio called it a "sensory nightmare" and deactivated the feature: not that I blame him, it can get annoying, but I actually sorta love it myself. It's the closest thing they can do to allow the player to perceive warmth, touch, life on their very skin. If Shadow of the Colossus is "a game about letting go", then ICO is a game about holding on. As such, it is necessarily much shorter than SotC: something you can quite literally burn through, like a friend you mad on that one week by the seaside when you were nine and had no mobile phone so you have no idea where that friend is now, what they're up to, what they're doing. You can only replay it, understanding its actions and words a bit better everytime but forever retrospectively, forever crystallized.

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It's a short and immensely sweet experience that ends on a bittersweet note to say the least (Fumito Ueda himself refers to the post-credits scene as a dream that Ico has going back to civilization, which means Yorda did not of course escape the crumbling castle) and yet manages to conjure deep feelings of beauty and warmth. It doesn't make any fucking sense to discuss the plot of this game, because honestly as narrative-driven as this game is, it already takes the shape of an experience that prefers player stories as the driving principle for the player to go on with the game, more so than its own narrative. I mean, Shadow of the Colossus is probably better at this – considering the even more bare-boned nature of its plot and the open ended lore that the player is left to to toy with – but something has to be born once already, in order for it to be reborn.

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P.S.: yeah, I'm assuming I might have to write something about that TGA trailer, you know the one. Since I'm most likely not going to be able to play it on release – because I will not be buying a PlayStation 5 just for one game, not right now anyway – I figured I should at least put something out analysing the thirty seconds flat of footage we've got. I'll see if I can squeeze out some coherent thoughts after fangirling for another while and report back once I do.

#schismusic #schism writing #long form content #videogames #team ico #gendesign #ico #fumito ueda #project robot #Bandcamp #Youtube

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heyftinally · 9 months ago

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/heyftinally/758185053774921728/oh-my-head-i-saw-a-swiftie-on-twitter-say?source=share

Yeah I think most people aren't her fans or haters. They simply do not care. They may listen to a song once or twice and move on.

Like, I sometimes listen to few song from various artists doesn't mean I'm a fan.

If half the planet were her fans she would be pulling more than 2.2M daily streams for Fortnight ( source: kworb.net)

Her highest attended show wouldn't be lower that 100'000.

She would be having atleast one album as a whole suprassing Thriller's first year sales. And no. They don't need to give me the excuse of it's harder with streaming. People don't buy albums anymore. Blah blah. There are almost 4 billion people more on this planet than there were in the 80's.

Her new music video would be having higher views than 97M. It's been up there for 3 months. Not saying it's bad. It's just not... uh well... It's obvious only her fans are watching it.

Despite having a lot of fans, Taylor Swift continues to be Not That Special. She's not some world changer or innovator. She's an overrated nepobaby with too much money and too little grasp on reality.

It's only her fans watching because she's no different from any other artist. Despite what swifties claim, she's not special. She's just another singer. And not even a good one.

#ask #anon #anti taylor swift #taylor swift critical

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penroseparticle · 11 months ago

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Penrose Song of the Day, Day 33: Almost (Sweet Music) by Hozier

The triumphant return! It's back, baybee!!! There might even be 2 (or 3?!?!?!) of them!

I get along without you very well some other nights.

I took a break from these, for a bit. I was going through it, but I'm a little further in now. Would you believe this song is one of the reasons why?

I'm not alone, this song is hardly a sleeper. Anything with half a billion streams has something going for it. And Hozier? On the Hozier loving website? Daring today, aren't we? A dabble of appealling to the masses perhaps.

Not really. Appealing to me, maybe.

This song makes me cry. I don't know if I can articulate why.

I think part of it is just the sheer fun Hozier is having with dropping a different jazz reference in every line of this song. The sheer number of songs he weaves into this is breathtaking. You have very straightforward name drops like Chet Baker, Duke Ellington. But almost every line is either lifted from a Jazz song, references a Jazz singer, or does both. Hozier is someone who has been very clear, vocal, and celebratory of his references, inspiriations, and musical predecessors. There's a respect for and reverence for the black artists, the giants he is standing on the shoulders on. His genuine joy, his love of this music and desire to give back to it, to recognize it and give it flowers. It's something that moves me, a little. I'm moved.

The lyrics are a whole nother animal for me.

I'm almost me again.

I think the joy of poetry is telling a story with efficiency. To cut right to the heart of a feeling. Not to ride Hemingway's dick, but he was kind of onto something with the paring down of a story, the minimalist approach. Single brushstrokes defining mountains. Time and again we see brevity, paucity, terseness as something to be celebrated- when done successfully.

The way that a sentence sings when you know that's all you needed to write. Where adding another word, another pause, a fucking comma would ruin it. There's something there, in the same way that bombast and maximalism and the sheer overstuffed lived-in rococo over the topness can take some artworks to new unexplored heights. Just as with maximal works, where there's too much, and it bursts through with the joy of being, something simple can speak volumes to the lonely, stark truth.

I'm almost me again, she's almost you.

I love this song because this song is about recovery. This song is about getting better. This song is about hope, after darkness. It's about love, sure, and it's about the joy of music. But this song, at its core, is about a man learning, shakingly, how to be after something calamitous.

I've got some color back- she thinks so too. I laugh like me again.

He'll get there. He's going to get there. He can see it, hear it. There's sweet music playing in the dark.

The line that makes me cry every time though is "I get along without you very well some other nights". Because some nights I do get along without you! But not tonight. Not now. I don't know where to start. I'm lost in the dark, and I can hear that sweet music. But I'm only ALMOST me again. I'm not fully there yet.

The song is so bright, colorful (yet somehow sepia steeped, in my head. Hozier conjures a lot of warm, comforting, almost ruddy brown colors in my mind. Truly a sun dappled bonfire of a man, tbh). It's sad, but it's joyful. I think I hear it differently every time I hear it.

And honestly there is something so fulfilling to me when a song like THIS is popular. I love music for all tastes and all genres. A song can be a simple beat to dance to, a treatise on power, you can use it to wash a man out of your hair, to boogie all night long. To cry, to release to finally be clean. You can make music that challenges what a song or music even is, you can make music that is callibrated to the masses to appeal. You can do whatever you want with song.

But I think a song like this, doing well commercially, is my favorite thing. This song is personal. This song is referential, it's deferential. It's in dialogue with its influences and aware of where it came from. It's tongue in cheek and playful and smart and accessible. It's well constructed. It is, as close as one can get, at least for me, a perfect song.

And it sounds damn sweet too, not to mention.

I've hardly talked about the actual MUSIC of it and well, Hozier does not disappoint. It's snappy, it's percussive. There's a gospel feel to it with the backing vocals creating this aural wall behind the simple instrumentation. This song is just SO good, I don't know how to describe it. The guitar lead-in is intriguing and quirked up. The build is simple, clean, elegant. A lot of hand percussion, a simple kick drum. Some piano parts, as a little garnish. The song feels like something I could play with a couple friends. We have hands for clapping. We can stomp for the kick drum. I have a guitar, only one of us has to play! and singing this with other people would heal something inside me, I think. Democratized in a way that only something soulful can be- this song WANTS people to play it, for lack of a better explanation.

I can't say enough good things about this song. I know that everyone else in the world knows it is a good song. I know. But I love it. And listen. You could be dead right now. Go listen to something you love.

#fresh jamz #penrose song of the day

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