#always doing it in Hollywood style on track

[rickybaby]

Daniel during FP2 | British Grand Prix at Silverstone Circuit | Photo by Rasid Necati Aslim/Anadolu via Getty Images

[caustinen]

omg i love how ur hollywood au is coming along, i need moreeeee

hii i’m so happy you like it!! here are some domestic headcannons requested by another user, it got hits of spiciness at times so hope that’s okay <3

hollywood au domestic headcanons 🦋

Bucky brings out a softer side from Gale who has been hardened by life and put up some walls when it came to intimacy/trusting others and their love, and he’s so thankful to have found someone who makes him see the world as a gentler place. Bucky is passionate with everything he does, but with Gale, he found new ways to put all that energy to in a positive, inspiring things that helps him along in other aspects of his life as well.

John loves buying Gale flowers and his / later their apartment is always filled with beautiful boquets that make it alive (I’d think Buck would have stylistic but quite simple/Scandinavian style home). Gale keeps telling him he doesn’t have to buy him anything but as long as he gets that soft smile to his face as John presents him with yet another bunch they will be coming in.

Another big thing for John is physical touch, he always has an arm around his boyfriends shoulders or waist. Gale on the other hand is a great listener and gives wonderful advice, countering John’s temperament. And while he’s more careful about physicality in public, he’s surprisingly clingy when they’re home by the two of them which John absolutely adores, he might never ask for closeness with his words but he’ll find ways to seek physcal touch in other ways. Both of them value quality time over everything.

They have to strategize their dates well which sometimes threatens to suck the romance out of it, but when they manage to work around it that makes it even more romantic. Night walks by Seine when they’re travelling in Europe, small local venue concerts where no one cares about them… The rarity of those moments give them extra spice.

That being said, they do love a quiet night in just as much. There’s comfort in having the world have them as completely separate individuals during the days, the nights are theirs to share.

They both love to read and often read great parts aloud for each other. John could listen to Gale read for hours, finding it easy to stay put unlike usually, even if Gale is barely aware he’s even there when he gets really into it.

Gale doesn’t particularly like going to parties and he sometimes worries John will get tired of him because he’s not as outgoing but John is actually really content, he can party with anyone but he can only have these moments of peace with Gale ❤️ It also helps to throw all eyes off them because like noted in the og post Bucky being photographed with others keeps media off track.

Gale’s office is a good place to meet — John being seen there is ”likely place for him to be” since he has business there, and Gale’s office has seen both date lunches as well as John being bent over his table (…he on the other hand prefers to have Gale against the big windows since they’re so high up no one can see.) The fact that they weren’t caught by anyone else but Curt (Gale’s client and Bucky’s best friend who already knew) is a miracle.

John actually told multiple stories about their adventures together/about Gale in general in interviews before they went public but they made a joke out of it because John always tells about him with ”my friend Buck and I…”. After the relationship goes public fans love going back and trying to find all the clues from over the years.

They travel a lot too between Bucky’s filming schedules, they’re both really into history and love to see different sights all over the world (at times it’s the easiest to hide in plain sight in busy tourist destinations). Sometimes John drags them to beach resorts too tho if Gale seems extra stressed out — he always protest and wants to rather do city vacations but he always ends up loving it anyway.

(Their honeymoon is in a summer house of their friend on a private island and they sure make the most of it despite being public at the time — the privacy feels even more inviting because of it)

They are sometimes forced to stay apart long periods of time if John is filming somewhere and Gale can’t leave LA because of work but they always call and text goodnight, and because of their busy professional lives the time they do spend together is always precious and they never guilt the other about having to be away, they have a similar understanding of the importance of their careers.

They also go to the gym together which isn’t always the greatest because they are 1) competitive af and 2) chronically horny for each other, and the display of physical strength/beauty can be dangerous. Espescially if they’ve been busy layely; espescially if John happens to be bulking up for an action film and Gale is torn between wanting out-bulk him or let him carry him away from there.

Gale couldn’t care less about watching sports (he does go to some games every once in a while for Bucky but he’s always bored out of his mind) but he loves playing them, and they sometimes manage to arrange some friendly soccer or baseball or tennis etc with other friends too.

I kind of referenced this in one of the instagram things but it would be fun to imagine Gale getting pretty creative when seeing Bucky in different costumes/roles, like maybe he wouldn’t mind John bringing the uniform home one day. Bucky sees himself in the costumes for months but Gale might only come to set once or twice and be Thinking Thoughts later when they get home about it too.

I also hc that this Bucky would be very into fashion and style and loves shopping while Gale couldn’t care less, he’s wearing suits to work and something simple on his free time but John keeps dragging him along and making him suffer for hours in malls and boutiques as he tries go get him to try something on. After their relationship goes public Gale wants to present himself well and thus starts to wear more bold looks (he doesn’t have to worry about getting attention anymore either, so it’s actually kind of fun). John thinks it’s so over because the little he was able to concentrate on these things before is GONE (thinking about that Bikeriders premier cropped jacket and wide pants, Bucky would be nosebleeding and staring while some poor media people try to interview him)

Imagining them cooking each other midnight dinners when the other has to work late and slow dancing, bare feet in pyjamas in the kitchen in each others embrace were the first two images that came to mind so we’ll end with them 🖤

hope you keep liking this stuff!!

linking the other additions in case you missed something: john’s insta / gale’s insta / media+friends instas / first meetings / first i love yous 💘

[notmyneighbor]

here is the news | doppel! izaack gauss x female reader

words | 4k

cw | explicit sexual content, fluff and smut

ao3 link

Everyone in the city knows who Izaack Gauss is.

The famed news reporter for the local tv station has won countless awards for the journalism considered brave, gritty, unflinching and detailed. Always on the cusp of a breaking story, it was uncanny how often the man seemed to be at exactly the right place at exactly the right time. He was a household name, a favorite with a variety of age groups. Handsome and compelling. A face you couldn’t stop staring at, a voice you couldn’t stop listening to. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t gotten off to the sight and sound of him on more than one occasion. A girl has needs, right? And it’s not like guys don’t do the same thing all the time. You’re just…evening the score a little.

Now, that man you’d daydreamed about and climaxed to was in your booth inside the apartment building you both lived in, about to conduct an interview with you, the guard, responsible for screening for sneaky doppelgangers trying to trick their way into the building to harm the residents.

There is a lot of preparation that goes into the event. There are multiple cameras you’re constantly told to turn to. Pauses midway while hair and makeup is touched up. The attention is overwhelming, but at your young age, you’ve got a flawless track record for correctly identifying the doppels and it’s caught the attention of many, including your intrepid journalist neighbor.

Once the dust has settled, once there are no more set lights shined in your eyes or powder applied to your nose or Izaack’s rich voice bidding you to smile again for the camera, the sudden quiet is a relief. The crew has gone home. Everyone has left, save you and the news reporter.

You’re not quite done for the day, though. The segments you’d just filmed would be edited down. In truth, probably very little of the footage would even be used. But you guessed that’s just how the magic of television really works behind the scenes. The last chore for you today is to do a dry run through the interview you’ll be participating in live on air tomorrow night. You’re still seated in the swivel chair behind the desk inside your security booth, leaving the reporter to perch on the corner of the desk, one hip cocked over the edge, the lifted leg so long it still nearly touches the floor. Izaack is six foot four, and broad shouldered, an intimidatingly large figure. It’s no wonder, considering he’d played football in highschool and college.

He hasn’t lost any muscle mass in spite of his cessation of playing sports, the considerable physique still apparent even within the confines of the charcoal suit he’s wearing. You’re willing to bet he exercises to keep that appearance, to maintain his appeal with his adoring fans. His skin is smooth and unblemished, his raven hair always styled in neat waves. He’s got a strong jaw with a cleft chin just below a pair of full lips so generous they’d make any woman envious. They part often to flash brilliantly white, even teeth.

Those teeth are dazzling you right now. Trying to make you feel less nervous, no doubt, but you find the gesture intimidating instead. He might not be a Hollywood movie star, but he was still a local celebrity, and the source of more than one successful late night round of self pleasure. You squirm nervously in your seat and it squeaks, making your cheeks flush.

“You can relax, you know. I’m not going to ask anything you don’t know the answers to.” His voice is rich, deep, velvety. You nod and swallow thickly, waiting for him to begin.

He doesn’t even look down at the pad of paper clutched in one hand, nor the ballpoint pen seated in the other. His azure eyes are locked on your face and the color reminds you of the tropical ocean you’d seen on a poster in a travel agency’s window once, some exotic destination that you’ll likely never get the opportunity to visit.

“Why don’t we begin by you telling our viewers what you do each day.”

You clear your throat. “Well, the shift begins with a list of expected visitors to the building handed to me by an official DDD staff member, which I keep posted on this wall here,” you say, gesturing to a now blank spot to the left of the window. “I have a checklist of things I should be expecting from each person. This includes their appearance, their identification card, their entry request form, and, as I’ve just mentioned, the listing on the day’s expected visitors.”

Gauss nods. So far, so good. “What are some of the things that are a tip off about the identification card being incorrect?”

“One of the first things I look at is the serial number. We have a complete record of all the inhabitants of the building, complete with their photographs, their distinguishing facial characteristics, their addresses, professions, and relatives.

The next step is to compare the image on the card with the image we have on file, paying close attention to those unique appearance details. For example, someone may have a mole on one cheek, or have freckles spread across their nose.”

“I see. Anything else?”

“The DDD logo must be present. This is something that gets missed quite often. It is required on both the ID card and the entry request form. The expiration date on the ID is the last thing that needs to be verified. Seems simple, but you’d be surprised how many doppelgangers ignore the importance of a valid date that hasn’t expired yet.” You point to the calendar tacked to the wall.

Izaack taps his pen against the pad of paper thoughtfully. “What about the entry request?”

“Well, that’s similar in some ways, and different in others. It, like the ID card, needs to have the DDD logo. It also features a photograph of the resident, along with their name and address. These names can be misspelled or the apartment numbers incorrectly labeled. The final piece of the puzzle is the reason for travel. It can be very obvious when a doppel is using a forgery. Some are more astute than others, but a lot of them lack the knowledge of a plausible reason to explain their absence. I once saw one state they were going out to do ‘human things’” you say with a little chuckle, and the dark haired reporter smiles indulgently.

“It certainly seems like you’re quite the expert. No wonder the residents of the building feel safer with you around. A perfect safety record thus far, I understand.”

You lower your eyes, blushing, feeling a little blossom of pride blooming inside of you. “I try my best.”

Izaack slides from his perch, straightening, the pad of paper and pen disappearing back into a deep pocket of the trench coat he’d left draped beside him. “That’s basically how the interview will go. You’re a natural. Just replicate that same confidence and you’ll do fine.”

“Thank you.”

“Oh, there is one more thing,” he says as you stand. “If you wouldn’t mind indulging just one more question. Off the record, as it were.”

“Sure, go ahead.”

“What if the paperwork looks correct, and the doppel’s appearance is a perfect match?”

“Oh, that reminds me. I forgot to mention it. I call the residence to verify the identity, either by a family member, or—”

“—But supposing there was no one home to answer. The visitor is on the day’s list. They’re expected to be out and returning home. They live alone. There is no one to vouch for them one way or the other. And every other detail seems correct. What do you do?”

You draw in a deep breath. “Well, thankfully, my instincts have helped me in those rare situations when they occur.”

“I see.”

You step forward, thinking the older man will be exiting the office, but he remains where he is, blocking the doorway.

“Um, Mr. Gauss, if you don’t mind, I’d like to be getting home now.”

“Oh, I do mind. I mind very much. You see, my dear, your so called instincts, those ones you’re so proud of, have failed you.”

Your blood runs cold. You’d been tricked by a doppelganger. You back away now, your hand reaching for the alarm. It’s too late to worry about shuttering the office, but it will still alert the residents that something is amiss.

“Don’t even think of touching that button. Or the phone, either. Your DDD pals won’t be coming to your rescue tonight.” The tall mimic smiles, gesturing towards the chair beside you. “Why don’t you sit down, get comfortable.”

“Why? You’re just going to kill me. Eat me, or whatever.”

“No, I don’t think I’ll be killing you. Eating you though, now that is an idea.” His teeth flash again, and this time they are no longer the perfect pearl white specimens you’re accustomed to, but pointed, slightly yellowed teeth. The turquoise eyes are now black, the white orbs bloodshot. “Sit down,” he says again, “before I change my mind about the not murdering you part.”

You sink back into the swivel chair, your heart pounding. How had you not known? How long has he been pretending to be Izaack for? Where was the real version?

As if reading your mind, the creature elaborates about the fate of the male human he’s pretending to be. “He’s not dead. Someone like that is too valuable to waste. Let’s just say we’re keeping him tucked away safely for now.”

You wonder if the new reporter’s capture is truly a better fate than a swift passing. “Don’t hurt him, please.”

“Why? Isn’t he a virtual stranger to you?”

“He’s my neighbor.”

The wide shoulders lift and drop in a shrug. “You have plenty of others. Or was there some other reason making you so concerned about this particular individual? Something a little more personal? A touch more…intimate, shall we say?”

It’s disconcerting how transparent your thoughts and feelings seem to be. The invader’s hands, now tipped in dark claws and studded with jagged veins that look ready to burst through the skin, curl around the armrests and tug you closer, the wheels bringing you right up to the doppel. “I can guarantee you if I was the real Gauss right now, he wouldn’t have spared you a second glance. He’d never have gotten this close. He’s arrogant and obnoxious, so nauseatingly self absorbed that I wager you wouldn’t be nearly so taken with him if you got to know him as well as I have. I’ve done you a favor, trust me.” The irony of that last utterance is not lost on you. A master of deceit imploring you to believe his word. Insanity.

The replicant’s mood shifts and his voice softens, drawing you out of your reverie. “I bet if I were to just peel this off of you, I’d find something very sweet and tasty beneath it.” The sharp tip of one digit sinks midway through the fabric of your skirt, dangerously close to your thighs, and splits it wide open. He grabs each flap and tugs, tearing the material further until it’s completely separated. You wince when you feel his hand seat on one leg, the claws scratching but not piercing the skin. It doesn’t take them long to shred your panties, leaving your lower half bare save for your shoes and stockings. “Spread your legs for me.”

You resist, shaking your head and clamping your lower extremities close together.

“Do not make me repeat myself.”

A choked sound escapes you as your legs spread open.

“My, my. That does look delicious. So pink and pretty. Just a perfect little pussy to snack on.”

You hate that your body responds to his words, your sex throbbing from the attention, from being bare in your work space. The fake reporter kneels down, but his presence is still no less initimidating even at this reduced height.

“A lot of people would be glad to trade places with you right now, you know. So many of you humans lust for this face, this body. Are you one of them?” The claws have vanished, the only bit of relief you find, gasping when those human looking fingers stroke right over your damp sex. Your clit pulses needily and the movement is not lost on the doppel. “I think the answer to that question is a resounding yes.” His thumb massages that sensitive pearl while his middle finger spears your drooling entrance. You are soaked. You can hardly believe your body is betraying you like this.

“Oh, look how wet you are. Tight, too. It’s a good thing I have the right tool for the job to pry you open properly.” A tongue emerges from between the rows of sharp teeth, a dark maroon colored tentacle looking object with a pointed tip that flicks your bud and has your hips involuntarily lurching, seeking more contact with the foreign muscle. “Delicious,” he murmurs. “Best fucking thing I’ve had to eat so far on this miserable planet.” Then his mouth crushes against your pussy.

You need something to hold onto, and that something becomes the carefully coiffed hair of the news anchor, instantly sending the coal dark tresses into disarray. He sucks so hard you think your clit is going to be pulled right away from your body. He adds a second finger and, at times, that wicked, alien tongue into your channel and you no longer care that you’re getting your cunt eaten out by a doppel. Your throat burns from how rapidly you’ve been searching for air. You feel like you’re going to cum, but that something else is about to happen, too. There’s a pressure inside, similar to needing to void, but slightly different. That bizarre, wonderfully obscene tongue of his keeps touching your g spot and it’s doing things. Things you can’t control.

His eyes lift and they’re that pretty teal color again, the hair you’ve mussed tumbling across his ivory forehead, and you fall apart against that Adonis face, the orgasm so intense you find yourself squirting, splashing fluids into the waiting mouth that sucks and swallows and laps every stray droplet, seeking more.

Your legs are shaking violently and you’re embarrassed and you’re afraid, too, but the lust is doing a nice job of muting that last feeling somewhat.

“Absolutely fucking delectable. That was a pleasant surprise, dear.”

“I didn’t know…I…”

“First time for everything, isn’t that how the expression you humans use goes?” He licks his lips—fully back to the human features again, normal tongue, teeth, eyes—and rises to his feet. “Perhaps you’d like to continue this elsewhere? Somewhere a little more comfortable?”

“Um…” You’re still coming down off your post orgasmic high, the nerves in your legs firing and tingling. You’d just squirted in a doppelganger’s mouth. Had a mind blowing climax, the best of your life. With an imitation copy of famed news reporter Izaack Gauss. Fuck.

“Or I can bend you over the desk and fuck you right here. Your choice, dear. But make up your mind quickly, or I’ll choose for you.”

The brazen declaration strikes you iron hot in your core. Either offer sounded tempting. “Um…” You repeat helplessly.

The replicant clucks his tongue softly. “Cock dumb already, are we? And you haven’t even seen it yet, let alone felt it.”

“Upstairs,” you manage to blurt your decision.

“Fine. My place or yours?”

“You mean Izaack’s?”

“I mean mine. He’s hardly in a position to use it at present.”

“Oh. Yours, then.” You suddenly realize you’re naked from the waist down and you no longer have any intact garments to cover your nudity. “My clothes…”

“Use this.” He lifts his coat from the desk and tosses it at you. It’s absurdly long but it does the trick, shielding your naked body from view.

The doppel says nothing to you on the elevator, seemingly unconcerned if anyone were to run into you now, or if you had any thoughts of trying to escape. There’s a slight delay when he realizes his apartment key is still tucked into his coat pocket, shoving his hand into the outerwear he’s loaned you, the sudden warm press of him inviting, in spite of everything, and then you’re ushered inside.

The reporter’s living space is modernly furnished, and neat as a pin. You’re guided to the bedroom, a large portion of which is occupied by an enormous closet full of clothes—necessary for the job, you suppose, although to your eye one suit is much the same as the next—and a king sized bed covered in a steel gray sheet set and comforter.

“It’s, um…your place is nice,” you say, feeling a need to fill the sudden silence.

The doppelganger grunts at the compliment, thumbing open the button of his suit jacket and tossing it over the back of the chair in front of the desk placed before the window. He tugs on his tie, a silk item that’s a few shades lighter than his eye color, and this joins the blazer. His fingers move briskly over the cuffs of his shirt sleeves, then unfasten the row of buttons draped over his torso. He sheds the shirt and the undershirt unceremoniously and you have your first glimpse of the body the copycat has adopted.

There were a few paparazzi photos snapped here and there that had circulated the tabloids, so it’s not as if you’ve never seen the man on one of those glorious resort beaches you know you’ll never experience in your lifetime, but seeing those muscles in person is much, much different. You can’t help but appreciate the beauty of the figure in front of you, even if it is a phony.

“Like what you see, do you?” There’s a little smirk on the imposter’s lips now as he begins working open his pants.

You stare open mouthed, gaping like a fish out of water as he continues shedding clothing. He hadn’t been exaggerating about his cock size. At all. If anything, he’d been too conservative. He was going to break you in two. You’d be slain after all.

His gaze sharpens, piercing you after he finishes undressing. “You’re not going to clam up like this during the interview tomorrow night, are you?”

“I…what? We’re still doing the interview?”

“Of course.”

“But…but I thought…” You can’t stop staring at the massive erection saluting you.

“It’s a hassle changing faces sometimes. I’ve got a good thing going here. Good job, nice place to live. Appreciative viewers,” he murmurs, his fingers tucking under your chin. “So I'm not keen to do anything to draw attention to myself. You keep my secret and I’ll make sure you’re…compensated. Deal?”

You nod, unable to form words. If you declined, you feel certain the consequences would be dire.

“Good. Now get out of that coat—mind you place it nicely on the chair there until I can hang it up later, I do like this human’s wardrobe—and I’ll see about making some more of those fantasies come true, hmm?”

You’re blushing again. He’s already seen your pussy up close; is removing the rest of your clothes after the borrowed coat such a hardship? You let the blouse and brassiere fall to the floor, about to peel the stockings off but he bids you to keep them on, pushing you gently back onto the bed after he drags the comforter off. “In case you have another…episode.”

He’s talking about the squirting. You glance away hurriedly.

“Look at me,” he says, drawing your gaze back to his features. His knee sinks into the mattress, joined soon after by the other. He climbs over you and you’re struck again by how large the creature is in every single way. His face dips to yours and he kisses you for the first time and you forget all of your earlier misgivings in an instant. Those plump lips were made for this, for stroking and brushing against another’s. Your own part and his tongue slides between them, nudging yours, trying a little sample of the taste of your mouth. Ink smudged fingers caress your breasts and smooth over your ribs. Everywhere your own hands touch meets firm, muscular flesh. Everything is toned, lean. You knead his shoulders and stroke his chest and squeeze his biceps, marveling at how massive his arms are, far more than your fingers can stretch around. You’re still not brave enough to explore further south on your own.

“Touch me,” he whispers beside your ear before nibbling on it, and your hands collide with something scalding. You’ve found his cock. Wet at the tip. He groans a little, his hips pushing that erect organ through the circle of your fingers, effectively fucking them. “Good girl,” he praises, and you feel a fresh flood leaking from your sex. “Let’s get you nice and filled.” His hand wedges between your thighs and you instantly spread them open. He strokes the head of his prick over the moist petals and then pushes at your opening and oh, it burns, it’s too much, too much but not enough, you want more, rolling your hips up to help him sink in further. “Hungry little thing, aren’t you? Just like a doppel.”

At the utterance of this final word his face changes again, his true form once again asserting dominance, revealing itself. You can’t kiss him like you had earlier, not with those razor teeth, but his tongue reaches your mouth easily, twining around inside, poking and prodding. His hands brace against your thighs and fold you over and he goes in even deeper, sinking into your wet cunt that sucks at him, throbbing, already trying to milk seed from the alien.

You can feel him burrowing inside—feel him from the outside, even, the bulge palpable through the exterior wall of your abdomen—and the ache starts to become more pleasurable. Your body wants this. It wants to mate with this imposter.

The gentle introduction completed, Gauss’ replica starts pumping faster. You’ve still got one orgasm up on him and he wants his now. “Fuck, you feel so good. Are you going to cum on my cock this time? I’d love to feel that hot, wet cunt of yours spasming around me.” He snakes a hand between your bodies, stroking your clit again.

“Mmmm…Izaack….” You realize you’d just addressed the clone by his human name and your tongue freezes against his, your rocking hips halting.

“You can call me that.” Softer mouth again. Human lips. Wet against your throat. “Let me hear how much pleasure I’m giving you.”

The permission relaxes you, draping you in warm comfort. You card through his hair—now a tangled licorice shaded mess—and gaze into aqua eyes, moaning his name over and over. His hips slam into yours roughly, at odds with the gentle circles he’s still tracing along your nub, and it pushes you over the brink. The smirk is back, that satisfied curve of lips followed by a Cheshire Cat grin that fades as his own release builds.

“Here it comes, get ready for it…fuck, it’s so good…”

A series of jets of hot liquid fill your womb and you shudder as the invader fills you with his cum. His teeth sink into your shoulder—human ones, but biting hard enough to leave temporary dents—and then he collapses beside you.

“That was, um…”

“Good?” He supplies, still sounding a little breathless.

“Yeah. Really good.”

“Mmmm.” He folds his hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling while he recovers. You shift on your side and he glances over at you. “You’re sure you’re good for the interview tomorrow? Remember what you’re going to say?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t want to rehearse it again?”

Ah. A concealed invitation. “Maybe we should. Just to be sure we have all the details just right.”

“My thoughts exactly.” The doppelganger pulls you into his arms.

[voxaholic]

Character Info For My Bojack Inspired Human Au

Hollywood Losers Au

Val & Vox

-Hollywood’s messiest on and off couple of just about 20 years

-extremely codependent: Val makes messes, Vox cleans them up, that’s how they work

-Vox has a shit ton of spyware on all Val’s phones and a tracker on his car and it’s only partially out of insane possessiveness. Vox’s creepy bullshit has saved Val’s life on occasion 

-“Did you hide my fucking guns, Vox?” “Yes! And the fact that you’re even looking for them right now means I’m really glad I did!”

-Met on a set when Vox was still an actor and have been making each other miserable ever sense

-Gossip rags love them. Every piece of info about them is insane

-There are at least three twitter accounts keeping track of whether they are on or off again

-Neither of them would classify the relationship as abusive but from the outside observer, it definitely is

-Val is under the assumption that Vox is happy with their status quo and Vox is, until he isn’t 

-Velvette thinks one of them is going to end up killing the other eventually 

-they get into a lot of very physical fights. Vox usually comes out worse for wear

-see when a person with a disorganized attachment style and someone with an anxious attachment style get into a situationship…

Val

-43 but still lives and dresses like he’s in his early 20s

-semi washed-up actor that got his start on some sort of law and order-esque tv show

-has bleached and dyed his poor hair far beyond repair but it is still hanging in there somehow

-has had six PR managers quit on him over the last year and a half alone

-personal life goal is to do every drug once

-trying to fill the hole in his heart with hedonism. he thinks it’s working (it is not)

-self identified queer icon

-lots and lots of shallow acquaintances/fuck buddies, very few people he would consider close

-interested in the concept of a pet but every pet he’s ever had has either died of neglect or been taken in by Vox

-outward narcissism hides a deep yawning insecurity that he’s not even fully aware of

-self sabotages a lot

-likes to be taken care of and babied but only by Vox

-retweets his own callout posts on twitter (Vox deletes the retweets but screenshots exist)

-afraid of committing himself to anything

Vox

-45 and dresses like it

-greying early (he says it’s because of Val and Val thinks he’s joking. he isn’t)

-officially Val’s agent but also unofficially, his pr manager because every actual hired PR manager keeps quitting 

-a fake bitch who doesn’t give a shit about 99% of people

-unfortunately once he starts giving a shit about someone he can’t really stop giving a shit

-has run several financial scams

-has done so much white collar crime

-gotten Val off for so much shit, like really, so much fucking shit

-briefly a child actor. it ended badly 

-apathetic about most things outside of work but fakes it well enough 

-always has like 18 different side projects going

-wants to marry Val to finally get some sense of stability in their relationship

-a control freak who needs to know what Val is up to 24/7

-the one who cooks in the relationship. he’s not good at it and Val complains constantly about how bland his food is but he still eats it

-has a blue pitbull puppy named Vark who he loves like a son

-he’s THAT type of dog dad

[hcfiles]

How to promote an actor? Well, one way is through promoting his interests, life style and details of his personal life. But, that shouldn't be the main goal of his team and those personal details are not always true, created to entertain, sell a persona and keep his name in the media. Talent and other professional skills should be important. But, if you don't have those, nor an established name like Hugh Jackman, Robert De Niro, Al Pacino, George Clooney, for example, you have to keep digging. So, he created an AVATAR, a fake persona, with some real characteristics, to sell his image and keep his name as news. Times are different now. And today, in Hollywood, talent is not enough. There was a time when movies were art and told great stories. Today, it's all about money. Any poor script may become a hit and any hot stuff, famous. The plot doesn't need to be great, it only needs a pretty face in good shape, a sex symbol to make people buy tickets. That's the kind of actor he is, from the new school, were all you need is to sell yourself as a hot stuff. Never seen efforts from his side searching for a nice plot, but for a role in which his physical image came first. So, he decided to sell himself as a sex symbol. And, it has been working for him, because, despite precedents, he always managed to keep an image. But, this image was destroyed by his own team and they are making a great effort trying to restore it. Meanwhile, concerning his acting career, what have we had, so far? A few cameos, small parts in insignificant movies and a lot, I mean A LOT of clickbait. For the last four years his team has promoted projects that turned out to be untrue. A lot of speculation around his name, but very little work. He got stuck in a circus that discredited his image, has been hiding from social media, only appearing when to sell a product and his management doesn't seem to be doing a good job for a very long time, focussing more on money rather than in achievements . And he has been having to do both jobs: act and manage his career. From time to time, they come up with a new clickbait. He's rumoured to star in many new projects, but in practice he hasn't had one. That's what it is. They are desperately trying to bring him back to track and arrange him a new iconic role, when meanwhile, there's nothing and he has established himself as the cameo boy. Why come up with new projects' rumours when Rosie Project, Bond, WH and Highlander rumours never resulted in close deals? What it seems is they are desperate to get him something, selling him as a cheap bitch, which makes him worth less as an actor.

[harveyguilleniconodelamoda]

Harvey on Fashion for Plus Sizes: "Let's Make It Available to All of Us!"

Harvey spoke to Charles Bright of GoldDerby last week on a webchat about What We Do In The Shadows ending, his voice acting career, and his incredible red carpet collaborations with Christian Siriano.

I want to do a full retrospective on this topic eventually, but that's somehow an even bigger undertaking than chronicling all of Guillermo's sweaters, so it may take a while. In the meantime, I've provided a write-up of the fashion portion of the chat below, along with some photos and additional fashion commentary from yours truly!

You can watch the full webchat here.

"Well you've got to remember that being a guy of size, not a lot of people or designers were willing to dress me," Harvey begins, in response to a question about his favorite red carpet look from the past two years. "And it's upsetting. It reminds me of Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman going 'I've got money to spend in here!'"

Harvey has spoken before about how prior to 2022, he dressed himself for red carpet events, and sometimes even had to provide his own costumes on set when the costume department didn't have anything that fit him. This is a problem many plus sized entertainers have encountered over the years, even as conversations about body positivity and fat acceptance have become more prominent in public discourse.

Siriano deserves a lot of credit for his track record of breaking barriers in fashion, for getting on board with Harvey's vision, and for bringing some incredible, iconic, history-making looks to life. But Harvey had been slaying on red carpets for years before their collaboration began, often in looks he put together himself without the aid of a designer or stylist. His love of fashion is not new, and his sense of style has always been on point!

Hollywood has been extremely reluctant to be inclusive in this way, with the media often reacting to even one or two high profile plus sized celebrities with concern trolling about whether they're "glorifying obesity" just by existing as successful and talented people in larger bodies in the public eye. But just as with so many other aspects of his career, Harvey has simply carved out doors for himself when none were opening.

"People don't take a risk because they're afraid, right?" Harvey explains. "But you could be the first! I've been fortunate. Talking to Christian Siriano, I was getting ready for the Academy Awards and I had this vision of like...'I really want to do something different, and I know that you don't really dress guys. I want to find a happy medium where it's masculine, and a little feminine, but it's me,' and it just wasn't something that they usually do."

"But we collaborated and we had this idea of like, what if it was the 1920s, but I'm going in a style that's retro, so it's the Gilded Age. So my hair is 1922 but I'm giving a nod to the Gilded Age because that would be vintage back in 1922. And so that's how I got that idea, and then we got the whole tuxedo flare and whatnot."

The now-iconic tuxedo gown Harvey wore to the 2023 Oscars.

"Working with Christian has been great. After that I think Vogue ran it, and it got all this attention, and people were like 'woah! a plus size guy looking good in fashion' and I was like 'yeah, we are out here and there's a lot of us! And I feel like there's just not designers who are designing for us or making it available to us.'"

Harvey's red carpet look for the Oscars, as well as his look for the Vanity Fair after party, appeared on multiple best dressed lists. He was even declared the best dressed person on the Oscars red carpet by MsMojo.

"After that Christian and I became friends," Harvey says. "I hosted the GLAAD awards and he dressed me for that, and I was honored with an award in California and he dressed me for that...and so we've been collaborating on different outfits."

Harvey and Christian Siriano have now collaborated on ten different outfits for half a dozen events since the start of 2023, including most recently the 2024 Critic's Choice Awards in January (where he once again made it only best dressed lists, such as this one from TVInsider) and the Garfield movie premiere in May.

"The Met Gala last year was, I think, the cherry on top, because it was a kind of nod to Chanel with a tweed in pink. But [the gala] was also honoring Karl Lagerfeld, and to be in my body, and being a POC, and wearing pink--so still honoring but not forgetting, and also representing myself--was a nice collaboration, and I think that gown was really beautiful and I loved it."

Harvey's Met Gala ensemble was easily one of the most impressive of the night, managing to be both flawlessly on theme while also being a creative interpretation that critiqued the subject of the theme.

Harvey finishes up his thoughts on his red carpet style by saying he wants to continue working with Siriano, as well as other designers who are willing to take a chance with him.

"The payoff is, you know, like you said: people look to people in film and television to be inspired, and be like 'why can't I? I can wear that! Where can I get that?' You know? And it's like you should be able to get that. Let's make it available to all of us."

Sounds great to me, Harvey! And it's true.

On a personal note, Harvey's incredible style and confidence has definitely been an inspiration. He's spoken a few times about how he's had people tell him how watching him has given them more confidence in themselves, and I count myself among that number. I am so excited to see what the rest of 2024 holds for him, on and off the red carpet!

[grits-galraisedinthesouth]

Meghan Markle Waves Goodbye To Her Rom-Com Dreams

We do? Rom-coms? I mean, yeah, it would be wonderful to have good movies again, of any genre. But with Meghan in charge, imagine the scripts she would commission. “When Harry Met Meghan, the Oppressed and Suicidal Actress.” “How to Lose a Prince in 10 Days.”  “10 Things I Hate About Kate.” “The Meghan Markle Story, Starring Meghan Markle.” 

That last one’s more of a tragicomedy than a rom-com, sorry. But I understand why she wants to make Julia Roberts-style romantic comedies. After all, just a few years ago, she was lurking on Hollywood Boulevard auditioning for her big break when a prince in an Aston Martin cruised by and whisked her away to his palace. She has lived a real-life Cinderella story. Only this one may not have quite the same ending.

Petty Woman: Meghan Markle Waves Goodbye To Her Rom-Com Dreams

BY: PEACHY KEENAN JULY 03, 2023

The latest chapter in the Meghan character arc is about the content she and hapless Harry are trying to pitch to their paymasters in Beverly Hills.

Not all fairy tales have happy endings, and for Princess Meghan the clock just chimed midnight and the spell has been broken. The coach is turning back into a pumpkin as we speak.

As a longtime Royal Family watcher, I admit to feeling shameless glee as I read the recent stories of Meghan and Harry striking out in Hollywood. It’s always fun to watch dire low-stakes predictions come true. Like many of you, I was appalled at the disrespect Meghan showed to her in-laws. Instead of respecting the Queen, Meghan, incredibly, seemed to be trying to compete with the Queen. She thought she was playing a game of “Survivor,” but she was the only one on the island who didn’t know how to make a fire.

A Long Way Down for the Duchess

For those not keeping track, Meghan and her nitwit ginger sidekick have been dropped by Spotify, reportedly losing half of the $50 million promised. She got $25 million for a measly 12 hours of a middling podcast featuring the richest and most famous women in the world complaining about how hard their lives are. Netflix is reportedly about to cut their $100 million deal short. They finished milking them dry of low-hanging tabloid family gossip, and just found out they have no Act 2.

Nothing is working out the way she dreamed it would. Meghan’s imagined billionaire lifestyle is turning into a mirage. Why? Because for some hilarious reason, the creative bigwigs in Hollywood believed Meghan when she promised that her and Harry would be able to provide oodles of monetizable entertainment content.  

I mean, yes, I am quite entertained by the spectacle, but schadenfreude is tough to monetize.

Meghan In Her Flop Era

Meghan’s predicament tells you everything about the people who run Hollywood. Imagine thinking that these two “f*cking grifters,” in the words of the Spotify exec who had to say no to Harry’s harebrained podcast ideas, would be a rich source of high-quality entertainment! 

I can’t help wondering how a D-list golddigger convinced these studio heads that her and the ginger mouth breather would somehow provide $150 million worth of streaming content. It turns out that they’re only good at providing piles of steaming content, if you know what I mean.

I suppose it’s true, as movie producer Jackie Trehorn tells the Dude in “The Big Lebowski,” standards have fallen in entertainment. Since the Sussexes first ditched their careers as legit royalty and started groping for ephemeral Hollywood royalty, my fellow Meghan hobbyists and I have enjoyed a goldmine of unintentional comedy. She’s the Benny Hill of pampered Montecito trophy wives, always running downhill chased by imaginary paparazzi. 

She’s been a source of delight since the early days when she was using a Sharpie to write inspirational messages on bananas to street prostitutes in England. “You are brave.” “You are loved.” Then the cringe-worthy trek through the thousand micro-aggressions she endured at the hands of her sister-in-law Catherine. Did she not realize everyone saw it for what it was: pure jealousy?

But now we come to the era of Meghan Markle, entertainment content creator. The latest chapter in the Meghan character arc is about the content she and hapless Harry are trying to pitch to their paymasters in Beverly Hills. It was clear that her long slide back into C-list obscurity had begun when I read an incredible tidbit in the trades earlier this year. Meghan was talking about her new content ideas she was working on for her “media production company.” See, it’s already funny! 

Meghan gushed to a Variety reporter: “For scripted, we want to think about how we can evolve from that same space and do something fun! It doesn’t always have to be so serious. Like a good rom-com. Don’t we miss them? I miss them so much. I’ve probably watched ‘When Harry Met Sally’ a million times. And all the Julia Roberts rom-coms. We need to see those again.”

We do? Rom-coms? I mean, yeah, it would be wonderful to have good movies again, of any genre. But with Meghan in charge, imagine the scripts she would commission. “When Harry Met Meghan, the Oppressed and Suicidal Actress.” “How to Lose a Prince in 10 Days.”  “10 Things I Hate About Kate.” “The Meghan Markle Story, Starring Meghan Markle.” 

That last one’s more of a tragicomedy than a rom-com, sorry. But I understand why she wants to make Julia Roberts-style romantic comedies. After all, just a few years ago, she was lurking on Hollywood Boulevard auditioning for her big break when a prince in an Aston Martin cruised by and whisked her away to his palace. She has lived a real-life Cinderella story. Only this one may not have quite the same ending.

As Jeremy Zimmer, the CEO of United Talent Agency, one of the largest Hollywood talent agencies dished during Cannes to every reporter within earshot: “It turns out that Meghan Markle wasn’t a great audio talent, or necessarily has some kind of talent. And you know, just because you’re famous doesn’t mean you’re good at something.” 

Ouch. I wonder if Jeremy Zimmer has seen the latest desperate pitch Meghan made to Netflix; a girlboss rom-com called “Bad Manners” starring … Miss Havisham. The show is “a prequel to Charles Dickens’s 1861 novel Great Expectations which will focus on the character Miss Havisham… [the show] aims to shine a feminist light on the spinster, showing her as a ‘strong woman living in a patriarchal society.’”

Who says comedy is dead? Sign me up for this one!

The article ends with the ominous “it is unclear whether the show will get a green light from Netflix.” 

Meghan is learning, finally, the hardest lesson of all: real royalty may be hereditary, but Hollywood royalty has to be earned. Popularity matters. Likeability, in the end, is the only currency that matters if you wear no crown.

Peachy Keenan is a senior contributor to The Federalist and a contributing editor and regular essayist for The American Mind, a publication of The Claremont Institute. She is the author of "Domestic Extremist: A Practical Guide to Winning the Culture War" (coming June 6 from Regnery). She also writes at peachykeenan.substack.com, and you can always find her on Twitter.

[ceruleanmusings]

Big Time Double Date - Mickames

i don't really have anything to say about this one. just that this is one of my all time favorite btr eps. i wish they did more bottle episodes, or rather more episodes where everyone was all in one place with intertwining plots. also, jett was the best part of this episode hands down! i loved all his scenes!

@partiallypearl @raging-violets @witchofinterest @myloveforhergoeson

------

Mickey heaved a sigh of relief when the broom closet door closed. She rested her back against it, eyes darting from side to side. The last thing she wanted was to get caught; she’d lose her job over this! Not that she really needed the job, being in a band tended to help with a lot of expenses but she wanted to keep it.

She loved picking up shifts at Chez Fancee when she wasn’t busy. Being in the thick of a dinner rush, creating delectable French cuisine, and providing a great experience and lasting memories for the guests gave her a rush nothing could touch. Performing onstage in front of thousands of people came close. And yet here she was putting it all on the line to make sure her friend had a great date.

They can’t say I don’t do anythin’ for ‘em!

“Katie, I love your style, but knocking him out was a little much I think,” Mickey commented when Katie rushed around the corner. A tree hat sat atop of her head, accompanied by leaves and fronds hanging off her clothes. If she stood still long enough people could mistake her for a plant.

“It’s just a dinner roll, he’ll be fine,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

“If that knocked Henri out, I don’t think he will be,” Mickey said, glancing over her shoulder at the closed door. She didn’t have much time to think about Henri and his apparently compromised health or balance due to a hissing by her ear. Katie and Mickey both looked in the direction of the sound. A second later James popped his head around the corner, his short hair slicked to his head.

“Pssssssst!” he hissed again, louder.

“Keep a look out,” she told Katie. Katie gave her a thumbs up sign and Mickey rushed around the corner, glancing back to ensure the manager didn’t catch her. He was a nice guy, especially for giving her a shot with her unpredictable schedule. She didn’t want to ruin that. But then again, on the flipside, she didn’t want Carlos to have a bad date with Jennifer 3. Jennifer 3 was very nice once you got to know her. And Mickey had total hair envy when it came to Jennifer 3.

“Help!” James hissed once Mickey got within reach of her.

Mickey came to a stop, blinking rapidly while looking him up and down. “With…with what?” She asked because, well, it couldn’t be with how he looked. He looked good. James always looked good, but he looked good. She actively had to remind herself to keep her jaw from dropping. Her momma always said to never underestimate the power of a guy in a suit, and she was not kidding. With James’ slicked hair and his nice clothes, he looked as if he were ready to film scenes in an old Hollywood movie. The only thing missing was a cigar nestled between two fingers.

“The guys are here!” he replied, tugging the bottom of his tuxedo jacket.

Mickey made a face, shifting the tracks of her mind from James on the glossy pages of GQ to the issue at hand. God, she hoped he didn’t notice the heat pooling in her cheeks. “Which guys?”

“All of them! Kendall and Jazz are here with Kelly and…some guy—”

“Oh, that’s Owen!” Perking up, Mickey breathed easier. This was a safe topic. “He’s our UPS guy. They were supposed to be going somewhere el—”

“And Logan’s here with some girl who looks like him and Camille’s here with Jett!” James continued, his voice kicking up a notch.

“Okay, that’s not too bad. …I gotta ask her about that later but that’s not too bad.” Honestly, she could do better than Jett. And weren’t she and Logan just together that morning? Mickey made a mental note to ask Camille about this whole situation later. Her dramatics would certainly make the story interesting, and something told her she’d need a good story after a long night. But damn they were more topsy-turvy than a see-saw!

“Gustavo’s here too!”

Mickey gasped. “Oooh, that’s bad!”

“I know!” James cried out, fiddling with the untied bowtie hanging around his neck.

“He’s supposed to be watching his blood pressure,” Mickey continued.

“…That’s kind of not the point—gah!” The end of his sentence chopped off due to him tightening the bowtie loop around his neck. His eyes bulged and his tongue stuck out, his fingers scrambling for the loop knot he’d made. Seconds passed and red grew in his cheeks. “Mickey…Mickey, help!”

“Oh my god! Stop, stop, let me do it!” Mickey slapped his hands away and stepped closer, yanking the knot away from his neck. His chest heaved with his deep breath and she swallowed the lump rising, watching the fabric stretch across it. Focus! Gathering her wits, she pulled the bowtie apart, letting the two ends lie parallel to his neck. Smoothing the ends between her fingers, she took in a Cuda-scented breath through her nose and began to let her fingers fly in practiced ease. Doing her best to ignore the rise and fall of his chest, Mickey clicked her tongue. “You can tie a necktie, but you can’t tie a bowtie?”

“Mama Knight usually does it for me.”

The simple sincerity in his answer made her take pause, her fingers fumbling before they stilled. Nose wrinkling, she pulled the half-knot apart and started again. “That’s nice of her.”

“Yeah, she’s really cool.”

She gave the finished bowtie a few tugs making sure it held tight and smoothed her hands down his chest. His heart beat hard beneath her fingers. Her eyes flew open wide and her lips parted and pushed out a squeak before backing away, directing her eyes to the floor, dropping her arms to her sides. “Sorrysorrysorry!” Her apology slammed together, falling off her tongue faster than she could form the words. If James said anything she didn’t hear it, didn’t want to hear it. The further away she kept him, the better. In fact, she managed to form some semblance of a sentence, telling him she’d be right back, before rushing off. She ducked behind the host stand when her manager and a few servers walked by, carrying large trays. It was where she wanted to go anyway. She tugged the box of items that had been left behind by patrons, rummaging through it until she found what she needed. With a triumphant grin, she hurried back to James. Along the way she grabbed an extra apron from the entryway to the kitchen; it fluttered behind her like a cape.

“Okay, tie this around your waist,” she said, a little breathless, once she reached him. “Keep a booklet in your pocket to take orders.”

“I can’t take orders!” James said, doing as he was told. A few quick twists of his fingers and the apron lay against his waist. “I’m not an actual server!”

“I know, but you’re going to take Carlos and Jennifer’s orders. And by that, I mean it’s already written. I picked out the best dishes for them. Pretend to take their orders and bring the paper to me. I’ll make sure the food is perfect and out on time.”

“Oh.” James took the notebook out of the pocket and opened it up. “You have nice handwriting.”

“Thank you.” Mickey sucked in a breath, blinked, and got her mind back on the topic at hand. “Katie will be running interference. Check on them every now and then. If you need anything, I’ll be right behind those doors. Now, how’s your French?”

“Huh?”

“French. Do you know any French?”

James’s eyes lifted to the ceiling as he thought for a moment. When he looked back down, a light had ignited behind his eyes. “Voulez vous couch—”

“Stop it.” Mickey squeezed her eyes shut as she thrust out her palm, blocking his words.

James’s shoulders rounded. “Sorry.”

“Forever.”

“Got it.”

Honestly, why was that always someone’s first answer? They needed to get more material. Whatever. She had more things to worry about. Waving her hands in front of her, she wiped his slate clean. “Forget it. How’s your French accent?”

“Oui oui, hon hon, try ze baguette.”

Her eye twitched. “…Close enough. Just keep that up and keep your face hidden and we should be fine. Just, one more thing…” She reached upwards and he obediently leaned forward, moving in sync. She pressed a large, fake mustache against his top lip, keeping a firm hold for a few seconds. Once secure she slipped a pair of glasses over his nose and took a step back, looking at him with new eyes. It was so unfair he looked good in glasses too. Her big reading glasses probably would look good on him too, on her they made her look like a nerd. Well, she was a nerd to a degree, but the glasses didn’t help. She clapped her hands together, the sharp sound making James jump. “Okay, team, we’re all set! Remember, we’re doing this for Carlos.”

“Friendship powers, activate!” James announced, pointing a triumphant finger in the air.

“I’m not doing it this time,” Katie said with a shake of her head, making James pout. Mickey jumped in, easily executing the odd handshake James had come up with, doing her best to ignore the spark at her fingertips upon their hands touching. He’d been working on it for weeks, mostly with Carlos and sometimes with her, noting it’d only be brought out when they really needed it. And Carlos really needed them.

The group split up with James holding his arm up to his face, looking much like Batman with his cape draped up to his face. With a few quick flicks of her wrist, Mickey cuffed the sleeves of her dress shirt, only catching the smirk on Katie’s face at the last second. “You two looked cozy,” Katie all but sang.

“Shut up, Katie,” Mickey grumbled. “You’re the one who didn’t want to do the handshake.”

“Because it’s dumb. I don’t know why you encourage those idiots.”

“I’m beginning to wonder that myself.” Deep down Mickey knew. It was because they were fun, and they were her friends. Back home she only really had her sisters as friends. And, yeah, maybe they all came along just because of their connection to Kelly but she loved the guys. They made her life interesting. She wouldn’t have fun like this back on the East Coast. She and her sisters had their own kinds of adventures but the adventures she’d been having out here with them were on another level.

“Do you really think Jennifer 3 could be the girl for him?” Katie spoke up after a moment of silence.

“I think he’s trying hard,” Mickey said slowly, “and he shouldn’t have to try hard. So, as long as we get him relaxed, anything could happen.” She bit her lip, peering past Katie to see Carlos’ and Jennifer’s table nearby. “He’s very sweet. Any girl would be lucky to have someone like him. They just have to notice.”

Shrugging, Katie went to blend in with the plants. Mickey ran her hands over her hair, smoothing down any stray kinky curls, blowing out a breath. She caught James’ eye from across the room. He grinned and held up his hand, wiggling the shaka sign. Their secret way of communicating, checking if everything was okay. She smiled and waved the sign back.

If there was one thing she learned about being around them, everything would work out the way it needed to.

She may as well sit back and enjoy the ride.

[happinessismusic]

Several times throughout his performance last night, Blake Shelton held his arms wide open towards the audience, as if he wanted to give everyone a big bear hug, thanking them for the love, energy, and applause. This would be Shelton's sixth time on the rotating RodeoHouston stage, and his first time back in six years.

"I've been here a bunch of times" said Blake as he smiled wide to the crowd. "I try my best to soak up the experience every time!

It was a gorgeous evening for the opening night of RodeoHouston 2024. Guys and gals dressed in their best western outfits came out to see the rodeo, eat corn dogs and turkey legs, and see a great show. The paid attendance of last night's event was a respectable 59,461.

The set list began with the trio of "God's Country," "A Guy With A Girl," and "Neon Light." Shelton lives on the edge of several worlds: country and Hollywood, traditional and modern. He took a swig of his whiskey (or tequila) and raised his glass towards the crowd. "Let's have some real fun out here!"

It was then that Blake's wife made a surprise appearance. The superstar Gwen Stefani joined Shelton on stage for the duets "Nobody But You" and "Purple Irises." She looked like an angel dressed in a purple shawl with fringe, her blonde hair flowing over her shoulders. The country boy married the California girl, and now they make beautiful music together.

"I was holding on to that big secret, and it was so hard to not tell anybody!" confessed Shelton. "By the way, Houston..... You're welcome! That was my wife, Gwen Stefani!"

"Now let's play some of my old ones," he followed, continuing with "Ol' Red," "Austin," and "Honey Bee." Although Shelton is not quite on par with the great country music storytellers of the golden era, he is a talented songwriter, and sure can paint a pretty picture with his songs.

“Well look at that! They're doing the cell phone light thing that I like so much" he said during the song "Austin." That track was Shelton's first hit. "This is the song that got me here!"

Shelton's current tour is entitled "Back To The Honky Tonk," and which was most evident with his last songs of the night, "Hillbilly Bone" and "Boys Round Here".

"We all have a hillbilly bone down deep inside," sang Blake to the bluesy rock track. "You can't help but hollerin' YEE-HAW!" These lyrics definitely represent what Houston feels during Rodeo cook off and the 20 days of concerts that follow.

The track "Boys Round Here" has always been very humorous to me as it leans on a country rap motif that references the 2010 rap classic "Teach Me How To Dougie" by Cali Swag District.

“I love Texas!" proclaimed Shelton near the end of his set. "I love Houston and I love this place!"

He then hopped offstage and onto a black Ford F-150 and rode away into the belly of the arena.

What a great way to kick off the 2024 RodeoHouston season. The lineup is interesting and exciting this year, and we will be back a few more times for more music, more fun, and definitely more corn dogs!

[daisiesonafield-blog]

Review -After many a postponement, for the first time since his debut world tour in 2017, Grammy award winning artist Harry Styles touched down at Mt Smart Stadium, bringing Harry Styles: Love on Tour to Tāmaki Makaurau.

Released in 2022 and recently awarded Album of the Year at the 2023 Grammys, Harry's House, built in London by way of Hollywood, Malibu, and Wilshire, and engineered by the likes of Kid Harpoon, Tyler Johnson, and Samuel Witte has seen almost every major city of the world. It's only fitting that, at long last, Aotearoa finally got a taste of the artist's highest acclaimed album.

Decorated from head to toe in sequins, sparkles, cowboy hats and the coveted feather boas, punters, who had been lining up as early as two days before the concert itself, descended on Mt. Smart Stadium bright eyed and bushy tailed, eager to get as close to Styles as they possibly could. His charm, wit and general crowd interaction is a major selling point of the tour itself - something all 47,000 attendees were eager to get a taste of.

Aotearoa's own Ny Oh and Isle of Wight-based band Wet Leg opened the show, to a crowd that, although mixed in demographic, got behind every single beat. Seeing Wet Leg at Mt Smart was a bit of a big deal; the last time they were here, they performed to a sold-out Tuning Fork - a venue which can hold up to 300 people. Fast forward eight months, playing to a sold-out stadium, comprising a crowd who, for the most part, know every word to every song, is something to marvel at.

I always admire an artist who has an impeccable pre-show playlist - it shows that not only do they know their crowd well, but when done right, the right selection can show that they know the city, or in this case, country, well too. Classic tracks such as 'Best Song Ever' by One Direction and 'Bohemian Rhapsody' by Queen had the crowd doing vocal somersaults over one another, singing as loud as they could.

What took me by surprise was the addition of Poi E by Pātea Māori Club - released in 1983, sung entirely in te reo, now playing to a crowded stadium before Harry Styles of all people graced the stage. He knew his crowd, and where he was in the world, extremely well.

Styles is known for his on-stage outfits. Some are understated, some are extremely overstated, and most, if not all of them, end up being one of the main focal points of every performance. The last time he was in Aotearoa, he wore an all-black suit, assumingly paying homage to the All Blacks. Last night, he wore a short sleeve raglan tee with a bejewelled whale's tail adorning it, with a pair of purple dress pants. Not the most spectacular outfit compared to his recent Australia tour, but we'll take what we can get.

After all, fashion comes second when you're stood mere metres from One Direction's Golden Child.

It's always special when an artist comes to any given country and does more than just plays their show and jump on the next flight home. On his recent Australian tour, Styles immersed himself in the culture of the Aboriginal peoples of Australia, and his stop in Aotearoa was no exception.

At his first break in the show, Styles, who, earlier in the day, had spent time with Te Matatini finalists, Angitū, sang the start of 'Tūtira Mai Ngā Iwi' - written by Canon Wiremu Te Tau Huata in the 1950s.

The crowd, clearly stunned, sung the rest of the waiata back to him without hesitation while he danced around the stage. He continued to do this multiple times throughout the night, which kept the crowd on their toes. I was almost waiting for it to happen every time he got the chance to speak. At one point in the concert, he picked a Tino Rangatiratanga flag from the crowd, and put it on his mic stand - the flag found itself to be a permanent fixture on the stage for the rest of the night.

The moments of the concert I remember the most vividly seem to be the same at almost every one I go to; the times when the whole crowd is still, flashlights up, yelling the lyrics of the saddest songs back at the person singing them - and last night was no exception. At the end of the catwalk which spanned what felt like ten trillion miles, Styles performed 'Matilda', 'Little Freak', and 'Satellite' one after the other, and for all three songs, I've never heard a crowd with so much gusto.

Harry performed songs from across all three released bodies of work, such as 'Woman', to 'Golden', and even far back as a new rendition of One Direction's seminal hit, 'What Makes You Beautiful'. He even snuck in crowd-favourite unreleased weapon, 'Medicine' which went viral during the tour for his last album, Fine Line. During every song, the crowd didn't hold back. So much energy in one space - it was amazing to bear witness to.

It's crazy to think that, from Harry's end, there are 47,000 people in the same space as you are singing the words to the music you wrote back at you. Those moments stick with an artist - I feel as though they stick with the crowd for eternity.

Crowd interaction is paramount for an artist as big as Styles. Throughout his time as a solo performer, he's always placed a large emphasis on connecting with his crowds, and as he's grown, the interactions have only evolved to be more intense.

Last night was no exception. From pointing out a fan who had been throwing fruit at him (which then proceeded to him singing a two-minute-long song about people dressed as bananas, eggs, aubergines, so on and so forth), the singer, who encourages fans to bring signs with him to his shows, went back and forth with two fans. One, who allegedly sold their cats leg to be at the show, and the other, who was with her best friend going through a breakup. After finding out the now ex-boyfriend wasn't prioritising them, hence the breakup, he told the crowd to "not be a Michael, be a Romy!"

Styles also asked the crowd about the census, telling everyone that he too had filled it out prior to the show.

Finishing with crowd favourite, and aptly named, 'Kiwi', Styles had made the nights of 12-year-olds with their parents and mid-40-year-olds alike, as well as everyone in between. Harry Styles is truly an artist who transcends all levels of musical talent and incomparable wit, with a hint of charm that can't be matched.

The remnants of the 47,000 plus feather boas will live on the field of Mt Smart Stadium until Harry Styles makes his triumphant return to Aotearoa.

Admittedly, he doesn't actually know when that will be. All he knows is that he hopes it won't be too long.

[terrence-silver]

What would Terry’s reaction be to finding Beloved with another man?…

---

Of course his first instinct was to kill. Maim.

Avenge. Mainly himself.

Settle scores.

Achieve prime control by digging his fingers into your neck until your ligaments snapped in half and then deal with the lowlife punk schmuck you were shacked up with at The Montrose, downtown West Hollywood. Destroy their mediocre little life, one bit at a time until they begged for release he wouldn't give them. Margaret, by extension of his private investigators told him exactly where to find you. The location to where you were tracked. Followed, when you thought you were being clever, unseen, outsmarting everyone, never realizing his many eyes were always on you.

He takes the Rolls Royce there.

Has his chauffeur driving him out. The aesthetic choice was deliberate. He'd go down there calmly, in high style, a man of the world, well dressed, poised, like he was doing no more and no less than attending some high stakes business meeting. A conference. And he was, in a sense. Revenge was business and his business was revenge, today of all days, as he calmly strides of the stairs on the third floor, polished leather shoes against the floorboards, adjusting his golden cufflinks, the puzzled front desk receptionist at the dingy hotel eyeing him like he just saw the fucking Pope enter the venue premises. Yeah, it is simple as knocking on the door marked AB19 and you open, thinking he's room service undoubtedly, find yourself in a state of partial undress, wrapped in a bathrobe, looking pale. Terry was convinced it was a far greater fright to come face to face with him than being caught cheating. But he's cool, simply grabbing the door's frame from the top, using his height to his advantage once you try to close it shut in front of him and he strides past you with ease, looking for a chair to sit down on, inviting himself inside, never asking for permission, pulling a monogrammed silken handkerchief under himself as he does, sprawling it out, as not to get sullied, the keys to your room promptly tossed on a nearby end table with a metallic, resounding clamor that shook the foyer.

There's a creature on the bed, just like Terry knew there would be, rolled in post-coital bedsheets, looking even more befuddled than you were; an emotion clearly replaced by fear once the door shuts behind his stride and two realize you were just caught. What? Did he interrupt something? Terry crosses his legs, nonchalant. He would deal with this punk later. It would be a pleasure.

-"C'mon! Don't stop on my account."- He fishes a golden cigar box out of his inside pocket, ensuring that the suit he wore was the picture of flattery on him, looking for a cutter and a lighter, pushing the tobacco between his lips, nonplussed. He already broke half of the furniture back at the mansion earlier today when his detective handed him the photographs of you with this...thing, staring at him from the mattress, shaken. He got ahold of himself by the time he arrived here, hot waves of wrath rolling off of him until there was nothing left but stony determination. Now was the time to play his frosty disposition and play it masterfully. -"I wanna watch."- Terry utters that line like it was nothing at all, and it wasn't anything at all. He's watched people fuck before. People watched him fuck before too. He's just never watched someone that was his fuck someone else before, was all. That's why all his discipline is employed, never to show an emotion. Never show mercy. Not now.

-"Terry, I, how..."- You stutter uncomfortably, finally able to muster a word or two, still processing he was here at all. Least of all, that he was asking what he was asking.

-"I said, I wanna watch."-

He repeats, matter-of-factly, feeling himself grow icy cold at the idea his explicit order was being questioned at all, letting the smoke bellow out of his nostrils in floating circles, pointing a ring finger vaguely at the nobody fucktard you choose to do him in with. How your standards have fallen. You wanted to learn a thing or two about humiliation? Fair enough. Terry Silver was here to do the teaching. This would be one of many demonstrated lessons. The first one. The prologue. Round one in the ringer.

-"So? Put on a good live performance."-

He twirls his hand in the air for emphasis, relishing in your embarrassment, so thick he could practically cut it with a knife and eat it for breakfast with an entrée followed by the main course in the form of your bleeding heart, feeling his jaw tighten to the point he could imagine himself capable of biting through the concrete walls of the room filled with cold anger, eyes searching for an ashtray and in finding none, he simply allows the searing residue from his cigar to fall on the carpet along with a curtain of red embers. He could burn this whole place down and he'd be fully justified in doing so. But, no, Terry didn't deal in impulsive anger. Terry only got angry when he decided it was time to --- deciding when it was useful --- and now wasn't the time. He ironically needed to be perfectly level headed now. And so, he was.

-"Terry, listen, we can go outside and I can explain ---"-

You try desperately to placate him and your creature scurries nervously, collecting their shit from strewn over the floor, ready to run. Make a dash for it. -"I'll leave, man."- They make a pathetic attempt and fail. -"Bullshit you will. Class isn't dismissed and recess hasn't started."- Terry doesn't raise his voice, refusing to blink. Doesn't give anyone in the room the satisfaction of finding him affected and out of control. Instead, he adjusts himself and sinks deeper into the trusted old cuck chair --- of course every hotel had one, but this time, he tended to see it as the seat of command, pointing at the bed, refusing to address the creature personally, instead, doing it through you as mouthpiece, courier and vessel. -"You tell them, they'll be a good robot. Do exactly as programmed."- Terry instructs, never taking his eyes off of you. Sure, yes, he considered violence as his first incentive, but this? This was so much better. You wanted to be an adulterer and now it was your chance do to what an adulterer did best, with him as witness and coordinator, learning a lesson you'd never forget; that regardless what you did, you belonged to him. Now and always. -"And after you're done,"- He warns, wagging his finger. -"You'll pack all your crap up and you're coming home with me."- Disbelief. Terry reads disbelief in your eyes when faced with those words. Like a part of you thought that fucking someone else would finally liberate you from him as your last way out. That you'd get rid of him. That he'd be disgusted, angry and done with you to the degree you'd walk free, even if walking free came with certain amounts of pain stemming from his ire, truly showing how desperately you wanted freedom at any cost. If that was your reason behind tactically doing this then you were dead wrong --- you grossly miscalculated --- because giving you exactly what you wanted was too damn easy.

No.

You'd stay right where you belonged --- with him.

Denied of the very thing you were reaching for forever.

And Terry would enjoy that so much. That would be his revenge.

-"Chop-chop! Get to work."- Terry claps his hands, balancing his cigar between his index and middle finger, mustering a dry chuckle, feeling himself like spectator at the Kentucky Derby bidding on a race horse from the jam-packed audience, watching you exchange silently horrified glances with the schmuck on the bed who was still trying to figure out if this was real or an elaborate joke. Was no joke. Didn't you tell them about him? No? Terry wanted to watch you fuck the prick. He wanted it to last long. Torturously so. Terry wanted you to feel his gaze on you as you did, unable to escape. Feel every bit of discomfort, unease, objectification and suffering you could until you finally tapped the fuck out and found that this was only the beginning. That there was his car waiting downstairs and that you'd be going back with him. That you would pay for what you've done. That you'd realize what 'nothing is for free' really meant. That he would ensure your paid your dues for this betrayal with every inch of your being until it left a mark on your very soul. When you refuse to move, Terry decides, now's the time to raise his voice and his tone is laced with crude laughter as he does once both you and the shmuck nearly jump out of your skins. -"With conviction!"- Terry yells, as you reluctantly approach the bed, finally moving, even if it was at a snail's pace, wholly shaken and shivering. He smiles. Good. Perfect. This would hurt you, sure. But, no more than it would hurt him.

He takes another long, hard drag out of his cigar, filling the room with smoke.

[orchideous-nox]

🕯️,🥤,🧃,🍄,🍬,❄️,🏜️,🍅,🐝 and 🎨 for the writers truth or dare ask game < 3

it's 12:20am lets see if I can get through these by 1am lets goooo oh my god this is so many okay

🕯️- on a scale from 1 to 10, how much do you enjoy editing? why is that?

Like a 3, maybe a 4. The only part of editing I enjoy is that its the last step in the writing process and then I get to upload the fic, I just find it boring and lowkey stressful and 1 typo always makes it's way into the fic no matter what I do

🥤 - recommend an author or fanfic you love

okay I can't just keep saying Alex (but also yes I can, go check out heartnipnops on ao3) and I recently read "I adored you Madly, Extravagantly, Absurdly" by MiriamMT which I devoured like way too quickly so I'll go with that!

🧃 - share some personal lore you never posted about before

*gasp* KATIE LORE?! Okay eerrrmmm trying to think about what I have or haven't posted. I have a degree in Film Studies, I wrote my dissertation on representations of masculinity in Hollywood films of the 1990s with a focus on Robin Williams in Jumanji, Mrs Doubtfire and Good Will Hunting! That was a lot of fun to write and I can occasionally get pretentious about films from time to time. I am always down to talk films with people though

🍄 - share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

okay love this, I don't usually keep track of my hc's and don't want to revert back to my usual bottom barty and evan collects teeth bullshit.

It seems to have made it into my fics' canon that Barty’s phone screen is always smashed or cracked but I think Evan’s is pristine like he has a fucking bumper phone case incase he drops it, with a screen protector and if it gets the slightest scratch he gets frustrated and buys a new screen protector.

🍬 - post an unpopular opinion about a popular fandom character

Again, I don't want to just say bottom Barty again but that is a hill I'll die on. I think a fair amount of my opinions are relatively popular, or at least aren't unpopular.

Okay so I came back to this and I have nothing. Scouse Barty. Not an opinion, I'm here for it though.

❄️ - what's your dream theme/plot for a fic, and who would write it best

i shouldn't say too much about this but my lovely friend who sent me this ask, Alex, has a future fic on his masterlist that we have discussed extensively of like a stalkery and murdery Rosekiller fic that I'm very obsessed with and he knows this and I'm very excited for it because its all I could want in a Rosekiller fic. This also makes it sound like I only have 1 friend because I just talk about Alex.......oh well

🏜️ - what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?

Oh my god Alex just ask me to suck your dick next time 😒 but seriously I love when people pick out quotes that they like or certain aspects of the fic such as loving the ship dynamic or my writing style.

🍅 - give yourself some constructive criticism on your own writing

I withdraw the dick sucking joke, me and my inflated ego hate you.

I think there are times I need to learn to be more concise. I don't have to give a whole life story in a smut fic and some brevity might do me some good if I can learn how to say more in less words.

🐝 - tag your biggest supporter(s) and say one nice thing about them

Oh my god seriously 🙄

Okay so my biggest support is @futurequibblerjournalist aka Alex who I have been continuously hyping up and roasting in the answers to the questions he asked me. He knows he's my biggest supporter and, like a wanker, wants me to inflate his ego.

I could say that Alex has correct opinions (because we share a lot of them) or that he's a great writer but I've already said that like twice in this post. But above all Alex is just one of the best people I know, over the last 5 months we've talked like every day extensively and on good days or bad days he has been a light for me like a sparkly fucking bitch I hate him and myself so much I'm going to throw up now brb

🎨 - link your favourite piece of fanart and explain why you like it

I'm resisting temptation to make this about Alex and his stupid fucking Cowboy Rosekiller art based on my Cowboy Rosekiller fic 🖕

Actually no, we're making this an Alex-fest because fuck you.

i love it. I love everything about it.

But I'm also going to include one that isn't from my fic

This art by @julesart04 revolutionised my love for Barty and inspired a movement for Barty’s whorish waist on my page

Okay it's 1:10am and I'm pretty sure Alex is about to declare me as a stalker and block me ✌️

[1001albumsrated]

#12: Machito - Kenya (1958)

Genre(s): Afro-Cuban, Latin Jazz, Cubop

Staying in the Afro-Cuban vein from the last entry in 1001 Albums, this time around we have Kenya, by Machito. As I mentioned in my Palo Congo review, this kind of music is a big blind spot for me. This is the second album on the list that I truly have never seen.

To my light understanding, Machito is a pretty big deal in this scene, and influenced many of the American jazz artists who took on some Latin trappings (there was an era where this sound was extremely trendy: see Miles Davis & Gil Evans' Sketches of Spain for a prime example of it done well).

Kenya, in contrast to Palo Congo, feels much more like jazz in a traditional sense, whereas Palo Congo seemed much closer its Afro-Cuban roots. Aside from the percussion, the rest of Machito's band is a fairly standard jazz orchestra, and plays with many of the American bebop trends and styles of the time in mind. That being said, these guys are anything but a schmaltzy big band. While the band is very tight and clearly well-composed and rehearsed, they pull no punches. When Machito puts the gas pedal down, it goes all the damn way down. The opening track, Wild Jungle, is a great example of the sort of blistering, frenetic energy the band can conjure.

This is an interesting listen, partially on account of how popular these sounds became in filmmaking in particular. These driving congo rhythms have soundtracked many a high speed chase scene over the years. The difference is, this is the *real thing*. There's a sincerity and authenticity here that the Hollywood imitators always seem to lack, a true driving energy behind the music. Add in some lightning fast bebop solos and you're in business. And even when they drop the tempo back for a song or two, there's still a powerful driving force behind the slinky lounge tunes on the disc.

Unfortunately, like Palo Congo, this album is long out of print (a situation that well predates the original 2005 release of 1001 Albums). Also, when doing some digging on the release history, I discovered that everything I'd read about this album to date really buried the lede that Cannonball fucking Adderley is on this thing. That explains the excellent sax solos. I'm surprised he didn't get some kind of callout on the cover. Anyways, I ended up listening in hi-res on Qobuz, and will be keeping an eye out for a copy of the album. Sonically, the recording is kinda rough. I'm not sure if the master that made it to streaming was a later generation tape copy, or if it was just rough to begin with (supposedly the version on Qobuz is a 2000 remaster, so it's fairly likely the original tapes were lost or damaged in the intervening 42 years). In particular, more dynamic moments often sound completely blown out. It's possible this is an artifact from later tape generations, or it's equally possible the engineer thought this would be some laid back Nelson Riddle sort of affair and just had his gains set too high. I'd be curious to hear an original if one ever crosses my path to see if those problems persist on it.

Regardless, sonic warts and all, this album is loads of fun. Again, like Palo Congo, I'm in no place to judge the historical or cultural significance of this one, but aesthetically it's a great listen and well-worth one of our hotly contested 1001 slots. Really pleased to have discovered this album.

Next time: the energy stays high with Little Richard's rock n roll landmark album, Here's Little Richard!

[rviner]

Rolling Stone, July 2024

You’ve made a big splash in the music scene recently. How does it feel to be suddenly thrust into the spotlight, and how are you handling the rapid rise in your career?

I want to take it day by day and enjoy it as much as I can. It is overwhelming and does not feel real, so I am pinching myself and blinking a lot. I heard somewhere that if you blink a lot, it makes you remember things more vividly. So, I do that in case this all goes away so I can remember.

Your music has been described as having a unique blend of influences. How would you describe your sound to someone who’s never heard your work before?

I do not think music can be described for someone else. People decide for themselves when they listen to it. How it makes them feel, what they hear in it. So, all I would just say to them is to listen and choose for yourself what you think it is.

You’ve mentioned your love for Old Hollywood in a previous interview. How does that era inspire your style and your approach to being an artist today?

I love the elegance and the dramatic flair of it, and I love how it presents life as a grand narrative filled with glamour and passion. It inspires me a lot, I want to try and bring some of the charm into how I express myself.

As someone who’s relatively new to the industry, what has been the most surprising or challenging aspect of navigating the music world?

I think how fast it is has surprised me. There is a lot of expectation and pressure but I am not sure from where. It is almost invisible, a feeling instead of a real pressure. That is something I still am not used to.

Growing up in Astrakhan, Russia, must have been quite different from life in America. How did your early experiences shape your view of the world and your music?

My home was somewhere with stark contrasts. Beautiful but with deep poverty. It taught me that there is balance to everything. Do we focus on the bad or the good. In Russia we sometimes say "the knife cuts the fruit and cuts the throat." anything can be good or bad, it depends how you use the knife.

"Dance Alone" has been a huge hit. What was the creative process like for that track, and did you expect it to resonate with so many people?

I enjoy everything about the song, how you can dance to it and it is there to serve an honest purpose. I knew women would relate to it as soon as I wrote it. I do not need to say now why they do, the lyrics say it. And if any man is still confused about it, then there is no helping him. But it wasn't for them, anyway.

Now that your music is reaching a wider audience, how do you stay connected to your roots and the things that inspire you?

Those things are in us no matter where we go or what we do. That is what Forever Winter is about, there are things that stay with us, or we are also still with them. I am in New York right now but I am still at home in Russia and I always will be.

What’s one thing about you and your life that you wish more people understood?

Maybe I would like them to know that I am smarter in Russian than I sound in English. Also...yes, this is my happy face. I smile on the inside. And...I think wearing red lipstick can solve any problem you have.

Looking ahead, what are some goals you have for your music career? Are there any specific dreams you’re hoping to achieve?

I feel like I am already in a dream, and I find it hard to think far ahead right now. As long as I can keep doing what I love, I am happy.

[lemonhemlock]

Lemon what's your favorite kind of music recently? Any albums or songs or music types you're obsessed with?

!!!!!!!!!

so i, like half the planet, have been obsessed with brat. i've been playing it everywhere, even my bf says he's nearly memorised it. i've been aware of charli since her true romance days and i quite liked a fair few of her tracks (nuclear seasons, you, black roses, you're the one) but she sounded so different back then. i was obsessed with Fancy when it came out, it was such a fun track. then i've kept an eye on her on and off during the years as i developed an interest for the hyperpop sound (vroom vroom has been in so many of my playlists).

as for brat, i've been positively possessed by so many tracks from it, consecutively: von dutch; club classics; girl, so confusing; apple; b2b; 360 (i was a little late to absolutely love this track but i get it now) and now guess ofc. i've decided that the only nail polish i'm wearing this summer is ugly shades of green.

but, i have to say, at the same time, from her back catalogue, i've become vv fond of Yuck: it's such a banger!! it would have been a really interesting and unique hit in the pop stratosphere had it become more mainstream

so, in the same vein, ofc i'm coming back to the queen (sophie) bc i haven't really made a concerted effort to go through her entire discography and instead focused on a few songs i like: ponyboy, faceshopping, hard

i feel like this is such a good period for pop music, so that's what i've been focusing on, so, naturally, the next thing on my list is The Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess. such a different vibe from brat but so catchy and fun. i love chappell's aesthetic and i love what she is doing in pop music. her voice and style of singing reminds me a bit of marina. as for tracks, i LOVE hot to go, femininominon, my kink is karma, super graphic ultra modern girl + good luck, babe

the next work i would like to shill for is slayyyter's absolutely perfect album Starfucker. no notes to give, it's literally unskippable. i can't even pick highlights as i would have to list the entire tracklist. i guess my most played would be i love hollywood, dramatic and rhinestone heart, but it's so difficult to choose!

another undoubted pop SCHOLAR is our girl allie x with her latest album, Girl With No Face. vvvv sonically interesting, v weird & catchy & enjoyable with those cold 80s synths i love. it kind of feels like this album is Starfucker's mysterious, eerie sister. black eye, you slept on me, john & jonathan, galina - chef's kiss. 🤌

while we were on the road these past couple of days i've also played (as the designated car dj) Rosalia's Motomami a couple of times. i've kind of had La Combi Versace, Candy and Saoko stuck in my head. La Rosalia always has such a cool instinct for combining different sounds to create something anomalous and nearly peerless. love her.

honourary mentions for kesha's joyride, hit me hard and soft by billie eilish, kim petras' slut pop albums, poppy, cobrah, chase icon, brooke candy, ayesha erotica. kind of want to get into Arca next.

anyway, thank you for this ask, i love music discussions!!

[georayn]

my perspective around the crippling yet warm loneliness of fallen angels (no spoilers)

一 Fallen Angels (1995), dir. Wong Kar-Wai

defining this movie is a challenging task. but, if I was to sum it up in one sentence, I guess it would be "corny and depressing romance so corny it becomes refreshing".

I remember Fallen Angels as the first movie I've watched when I decided to take the ritual of watching movies more seriously, and it was basically the first film I'd ever seen that doesn't follow the cookie-cutter hollywood format of the hero's journey (I believe that was around 2 years ago). that's why I have such an affection for this movie.

to this day (and maybe until the day I die) I am not a good movie critic, that's why this is not a well-formulated critique in any way lol. so yes, I may be very biased in the way I percieve this film, so because of this I will not get into much detail of its technical aspects or its issues, I will just try to convince you to watch it if you haven't yet :D

˖ ࣪⊹ ִ┈┈┈┈ ♰ ┈┈┈┈ ⊹ ִֶָ𓂅

firstly, I'd like to address an elephant in the room: this is a Wong Kar-Wai film, so it strongly follows his signature style; the surreal and dreamy coloring, jittery camerawork, mind boggling action sequences including the step-frame takes and so much more. but I'm sure you've noticed most of these aspects through other blogs, pinterest boards and tiktok edits, so I want to put more emphasis into his abilities of storytelling and his producing process.

I am not the biggest fan of saying things in the sort of "omg only this director/person could ever create this!", but it is undeniable that WKW's way of thinking is very unconventional. Cristopher Doyle, responsible for a lot of the movie's cinematography (and who is someone that worked with him in many other projects until 2004) says that WKW always tried to look for what the movie had to say, even if discarding parts of the script was necessary. what I admire the most about his work is the way his characters feel alive considering that the flesh of his films are the struggles and "boring" aspects of life. I reeaaally love the way he and his crew are able to make the "disposable" parts of life so interesting. of course, the action and story shifting segments are part of what gives meaning to everything, but the connections between them are what makes all of it worth watching and feeling the characters' emotions.

so, how does the story go? this is actually a tricky question haha. in case you are not familiar, Fallen Angels is directly attached to Chungking Express, another film by Kar-Wai released one year earlier (1994). WKW himself reveals that Chungking Express and Fallen Angels should have been published as one merged movie, but he ended up losing track of the project's length (also, in my opinion, you can watch FA before CE if you want to, it doesn't follow any particular order to me). Here is where his instinct-leading creative process really shines; it may seem impractical, however this project might be the pinacle of his love for cinema, considering it was a project made for "making himself comfortable with making movies again" after a prior not so self-fulfilling project.

"You try to cope with the mass audience, but in fact you are not doing something for them—I would be fighting with myself. I thought, I don’t have to make big films, I can make small films that I can be happy with. I can find my own audience. So I made Chungking Express with a very low budget, and we made the film very quickly, only six weeks from the idea to the edit" 一 Wong Kar-Wai for BOMB magazine, Winter 1998 issue.

considering the whole project, he explains that Chungking Express and Fallen Angels both revolve around the city of Hong Kong, yet in its different sides: the brightly lit and uneventful hustle of the daytime with CE, and the freezing, dark and crippling loneliness of the nighttime through FA.

with that said, in my opinion, neither is "more impactful" or "to be more considered" than the other; as WKW himself said, both are complementary to each other, and even the characters are interchangeable. however, I am here to talk about the rispid and desolating feeling of the "type of loneliness" depicted in Fallen Angels specifically, since it resonates more deeply with me and it might do the same to you if you're looking for big-neon-city anxiety.

一 Fallen Angels (1995), dir. Wong Kar-Wai

now onto the actual story. both movies are divided in 2 "main storylines", contributing to the perspective of interchangeable characters. in Fallen Angels, one of the sides has a more intense dynamic that follows a hitman and his agent, whilst the other follows the wobbly story of a mute man who ends up meeting a heartbroken woman who asks for his help on getting her revenge. this all may seem kind of non-sensical, but I believe that one of the film's most charming features is its ways of making people so unrelated as these characters become so connected and dependant of each other just because of life's randomness yet without making it feel forced.

also, I haven't even mentioned side characters and I think i'd be too dense and maybe annoying to get into the details of their importance (especially if you haven't seen the movie yet), but I guess I could say they are the ones who provoke and question the main ones' morals. here, WKW's characters are the most alive when they feel confused, uncomfortable, alarmed and tired because of the harsh metropolitan life (just like real people). with that, they find themselves in a constant fight with other people's morals and even their own.

this sense of desolation may be depressing at its core, but it also defines the familiar matter between all of these people, bringing a comfort-like yet melancholic sentiment to the situations that unravel; no one is truly right-minded but you always try to consider where they are coming from. they may do fucked up things but they pay the price to life itself.

this melancholy carries the story's events until its very end, and I just love it. of course I'd rather choose that we live in a world where everything is perfect and this comfort found in sadness is unrealistic, but considering the societies we live in, specially in big and poorly planned cities, I find this movie to be a memorable portrait of this misterious feeling of loving desolation.

I wish I was able to get into the details of each character more deeply, but I think that would break the purpose of the "no spoilers" promise I made & I think it's more fun for you to discover them by yourself when watching the film. however, I'd like to say that, even though I feel like everyone in the narrative is able to connect to one another, each one has their singularities, flaws and quirks, which makes the familiarities shared by all the more precious.

therefore, the events and personalities present in this film are incredibly rich and capable of conveying this specific feeling of constant fighting for survival and sanity in such a complex and harsh environment. sometimes the narrative follows the actual outbursts of these causes, but I believe that the true beauty of this movie lies in the moments of hopelessness and fatigue.

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I wish I was able to spark your interest in watching Fallen Angels! this movie is very meaningful to me and I've been interested in writing about it for some time now! the thing is, this is my very first blog post ever so it might end up being shitty and I just don't know it yet hah... it's okay though, I've been struggling with being able to talk about the things I like just because my brain thinks I can't do it, so I think this is a step forward on fixing this! :)

in case you watch the movie, please leave your thoughts here so you can share your perspective! I really want to know other people's opinions about the things I love, even if you don't like it as much!

thank you for reading, see you!!! <3

References:

Wong Kar-Wai for BOMB magazine, Winter 1998 issue: https://bombmagazine.org/articles/1998/01/01/wong-kar-wai-1/

Cristopher Doyle for IstoÉ, 19/03/2021 (in portuguese): https://istoe.com.br/cinema-pelo-olhar-de-christopher-doyle/

P.S: sorry for any English mistakes! you can correct me if you want, I appreciate the feedback!