#and maybe a little elitist itself?
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Maybe a controversial opinion that y'all are going to take the wrong way but. Metal is a music genre, not a honorific title. People who say Sleep Token isn't metal might think they're insulting ST but they actually aren't. People who say ST is metal might think they're defending ST but they actually aren't.
"Is ST metal?" is a purely neutral debate. The answer, whatever it is, should only matter to you when you're looking for their discography at the store and you want to know what category they might be in because you have a bus to catch and you don't want to wander around the aisles for half an hour. It says nothing about the band's merits.
I think if we could all agree on that, we wouldn't get mad at each other.
#sleep token#no need to attack me for this obviously#if you want to put your whole heart into an essay explaining why st *needs* to be recognized as metal you do you#i just think that you know#thinking that 'it's not metal' is a bs take that only ignorant and elitist people can have is not helpful#and maybe a little elitist itself?#people argue about this like metal is a medal of honor and it is crucial to determine whether st *deserves* it or not#when really objectively you could call them electro swing and you still wouldn't be disrespecting them#because genres are just ways to classify bands on the market it's not a hierarchy#and no matter what you call st their music is still going to be what it is#so yeah#looks like an epidemic of people-who-disagree-with-me-on-this-are-being-problematic-itis#when and i insist metal isn't some superior genre that requires a stamp of approval#this isn't a rant i respect people who are passionate about this#but i feel like if this genuinely makes you angry or sad questioning the point of this debate might help
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I think people who play D&D despite its combat focus is, and correct me if I heard this wrong from them, but like... the idea is that they don't like combat, so having a big, chunky combat engine is good somehow??? because the rules don't interfere??? with The Roleplay TM.
Or as my GM said it: "I prefer D&D because I don't have to worry about rules when we're Roleplaying TM and it gets combat out of the way"
I don't get it. I don't. I tried asking why the hell you'd play a game with this much Combat Time and I can't get a straight answer. Like, not having combats is somehow impossible. It's required. But also bad, annoying, and must be codified so the GM can turn brain off BUT ALSO have so many rules you are Brain On, wait 15 minutes i gotta check the book heavy.
I think it's legitimately a toxic meme (in the academic sense of the word) being spread to make people think D&D is not about dungeons but "Whatever You Want uwu" or something.
Maybe you can help because I am on the verge of having an aneurysm here.
There's a lot of stuff that plays into this all too common sentiment.
First of all, there's this idea going around in D&D circles that Combat and Roleplay are two things that are not to touch. You see this expressed quite a lot by fans of D&D, the notion that once combat begins roleplaying stops. This is of course a silly notion, because combat is also roleplay, and it's even more silly coming from the players of the game whose rules are 80% combat.
But once you've established in your mind that roleplaying and combat are two, fundamentally incompatible modes of play and the game you're playing mostly has rules for combat and very little rules for stuff outside of combat (and the rules for combat aren't, at the end of the day, all that interesting) it's easy to draw the conclusion that roleplaying and rules are themselves at odds. @prokopetz has articulated this much better than me, and to paraphrase him: in the dichotomy of combat vs. role-playing, combat actually acts as a metonym for rules-mediated play as a whole. So it's your classic role-playing vs. roll-playing dichotomy, which not only smacks of elitism but is also, frankly, idiotic.
Anyway, once a person has drawn the conclusion that rules-mediated play and roleplaying are fundamentally at odds with each other it's easy to see where a person might draw the conclusion that having any rules that touch upon the "roleplaying" side of play would either needlessly restrict the roleplaying or somehow infringe upon the purity of roleplay. Within the dichotomy of role-playing vs. roll-playing role-playing is ultimately seen as basically free play where there are no rules and procedures in play, only to be broken off by the necessary evil of procedural scenes.
Where has this toxic meme come from? Well, sadly it's as old as the hobby itself. A lot of people who are fans of D&D still think they need to inject "real roleplaying" into the dungeon game to grant it legitimacy as a roleplaying game. This is, of course, bull-honkey. D&D, even played as purely a dungeon crawling challenge game with no pretensions of trying to tell a greater story beyond "the story of what happened during the events of the game" is still roleplaying, and ultimately it owes to a lot of D&D players themselves having bought into elitist notions about roleplaying games and not actually even liking the main supported mode of play of D&D.
Because if you take a look at what D&D as a game mostly supports, it's ultimately a challenge-based dungeon game, which is great and cool actually. But if one has a reductive notion of what counts as "real roleplaying," then, well, there's gotta be something wrong with this game. So actually the roleplaying isn't what the rules say and are actually a secret third thing and also it doesn't even matter what the rules say about the game, because system doesn't matter whatsoever.
You might see why, as a person who is passionate about game design and who loves the dungeon crawling challenge game playstyle, I might find this attitude grating.
And I definitely agree that it's a toxic meme, but D&D 5e play culture at this point is mostly a circlejerk about how the game actually is fine and how game design doesn't actually matter and how in those other games the rules actually get in the way of roleplay instead of doing what they actually do: act as a participant in the game on equal footing with the players and with an actual voice as to how the narrative should look like. Even D&D's rules are loudly opinionated about what the act of gameplay should look like, but these people have convinced themselves that the style of play D&D's rules are opinionated about is bad, actually, so in fact any type of rules that are opinionated about play are actually bad rules that get in the way of roleplaying.
Anyway, as a final note, while these ideas have been around for a very long time, there has been something of a resurgence of this idea, and Brennan Lee Mulligan is partly to blame. Brennan is a wonderful comedian and clearly a great entertainer, but he has also espoused the idea that D&D is good because it gets out of the way in the scenes which he is actually interested in (social, interactive scenes) and takes the reins in scenes which he's not interested in (combat scenes, procedural action scenes). I can sort of understand where he is coming from, and in fact the game taking the weight off the pedal during social scenes is great if your players are all extremely funny comedians like you. But it's also basically a playstyle where there are procedural, rules-mediated action scenes followed by essentially improvised, free play cutscenes where the rules themselves don't have anything to say. It doesn't play into the strengths of the medium, which is that the rules of the game are an active participant with an actual voice in the fiction and not just something to be sidelined. So like with all due respect to Brennan Lee Mulligan, but this is something where he simply is incurious and frankly fundamentally disconnected from what the purpose of rules in a tabletop roleplaying game is. The rules aren't there just to handle the boring stuff for you, because in a game you actually enjoy playing there shouldn't be any boring stuff! In a good game engaging with the rules shouldn't be boring! I play older editions of D&D because I like how the rules shape the act of dungeon-crawling and wilderness exploration! I play Monsterhearts because the rules are opinionated about the teen monster melodrama and they produce extremely cool and wildly volatile drama!
All of which is to say: the idea that the rules of a game are somehow diametrically opposed to the act of roleplay is a silly, toxic meme, and one that is often espoused by D&D players who have latched onto D&D because it was the first game they became aware of and who clearly want something more out of games but they have also convinced themselves that D&D is what all RPGs are and the idea that other RPGs might actually differ from D&D in terms of rules quality, how the act of play looks, and the type of play the rules actually incentivize is completely alien to them. A lot of D&D players have nothing but sneering contempt for the playstyle incentivized by D&D because they have convinced themselves that that playstyle is beneath them and not "real roleplaying," and I think those players should stop playing D&D and instead play games that actually support the playstyles they think are befitting real role-players. Also they should shut up and give me like a hundred dollars for being forced to read their posts.
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rewatched it and I'm thinking again about Marisa and Alice's Self-Contradiction
it's a really powerful work not necessarily even because I entirely agree with what it's saying, but because it's so incredibly viscerally upset, guilty, bitter, hurt, and angry — and worst of all, it realises that even by venting those feelings, even by trying to create something to criticise itself, it's doing exactly what it's complaining about. it's commodifying torture to promote its own creative work, and in turn, limiting its scope to what it knows will get attention
but when it does the wink wink nudge nudge about how self aware it is, it doesn't really come off as actually thinking it's smart, but as genuinely feeling gross about itself for writing something this long towards the end goal of what's effectively just an edgy vent session
it's ranty and screamy and childish, but it can't even really make up its mind about what exactly it's mad at. it's mad at everyone, it's mad at systems, it's mad at posers, it's mad at elitists, it's mad at clout chasers and moralists, it's mad at social phenomena, it's mad at itself, and it realises how ridiculous it sounds for having all that directionless disgust
and of course it's all written with the full awareness that anyone who isn't guilty of exactly the same thing as the writer (to greater or lesser extents because you need to know pretty in depth stuff about Cookie to get a lot of the callbacks) won't have the baseline knowledge to fully get the hyperspecific subsubculture drama it's ranting about
maybe it's all a little too much thought to give something that amounts to "I feel like I've been spiritually violated and permanently damaged as a creative by my own attention seeking behaviour" but it feels oddly in-spirit to think too much about it
even talking about it makes it worse! I'm making it worse!
it ends on a sour note where it half assedly says the title of the audio drama several times just to remind you it wasn't even about the characters in the title and lied to make you watch it. and it was kind of right to! because nobody would have watched that if they didn't attach the dox-material-in-touhou-skinsuits subculture to it
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i agree with you on the pride & prejudice thing. do you have any headcanons about the literature jason enjoys? personally, i think hamlet did something irreversible to his brain chemistry, but i respect your phd in jason todd.
i can't give you an unbiased opinion because hamlet did something irreversible to my brain chemistry too (still planning that essay on utrh as a revenge tragedy with shakespeare as the main point of reference...)
but my main headcanon is just that jason reads quite literally everything. i don't like when he is portrayed as an elitist reader who preaches about the importance of classics. he reads them of course and i believe he engages with them meaningfully, but meaningful engagement with the canon means criticizing it too, and admitting when something is not to your taste.
and he is definitely able to find something for himself in every genre, century, culture, and on any "shelf." i think when he was a kid, especially with catherine becoming more absent (and i don't imagine her to be a huge reader anyway) he had little guidance from anyone so he was just read pretty much whatever he got on his hand. and i think this habit of his preserved, even into the lost days when i doubt he had much interest in anything besides his training and plans in gotham; i think the act of reading itself still was something that at times helped him clear his mind, no matter what book it was.
the shorter answer is frankenstein (because of annual 25.) sadly, i also reckon he would like the brothers karamazov. what else– i think he'd find contemporary french authors such as ernaux, louis or eribon interesting (for their class consciousness)- greek tragedies, or is it too obvious and would make him feel uncomfortable? baldwin, definitely. poetry of all kinds, though for some reason i imagine he likes the traditional verse most. and plenty of others that come to my mind but that i won't share because there's little logic behind them other than my personal idea of jason's sensitivity.
i also sometimes use the example of sparks' novels to really make the point. (i have no particular feelings about sparks whatsoever and i only skimmed through some of his works before when i wanted to check how bad they were. and i don't think that jason thinks they are good. i do think he would read them and maybe even feel something about them)
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Acceptance
"Clive. Joshua." Jill called both cheerily as she entered Clive's chamber. "I got something for you both."
The Rosfield brothers paused their Tome readings as Jill presented two fine lovely hand sewn pouches with an elegant phoenix embroidery design as well as their names carefully sewn on it.
Red was for Clive while orange was for Joshua. Even Jill has it; a dark blue pouch with a beautiful ice embroidery design.
"This is quite well made." Clive complimented as he examined the materials with his hands. Fine materials made from the feathers of Chocobos and silk.
"I didn't know you had such fine handicraft skills, Jill." Joshua doesn't recall she ever did one back in the old days at Rosaria. Except for flower laurels.
Jill chuckled and shook her head. "Actually, it wasn't done by me. It was someone else." She pointed out.
Clive and Joshua were curious who it was.
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Jill led the brothers to Harpocrates's library. Quietly creaking open the double wooden doors, she gestured to them to take a peek inside. They did.
It was Dion. Sitting on one of the chairs, with knitting and sewing accessories on the long table, knitting something for two excited Bearer children.
"Here you go." He handed two little white knitted Moogles to them.
"Thank you, big brother!" The children expressed their thanks and soon were playing with it while Dion resumed his knitting.
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"He made this for us?" Clive asked Jill. She nodded.
"I actually suggested to him to give it to you both personally yet he politely implored me to do it for his stead." She quietly sighed while observing him from a distance. "The guilt of what happened back at Twinside still weighs heavily on him. He may have begun living with us at the hideout but he barely struck any conversation with anyone.”
"I often see him spent most of his time alone outside. Staring silently towards the Crystalline Dominion direction, lost in deep thoughts with grief-stricken expression.” She gazed up at Clive. “Healing him from this ordeal won't be easy. I wish I could help him more but I’m not sure how."
Clive looked at Jill then shifted his gaze back to Dion. He clearly knew that the very catastrophe happened at the capital city wasn't Dion's fault to begin with. It was all Ultima’s machination; That fiend disguised itself as Olivier Lesage to manipulate Dion’s father, Sylvestre Lesage. And of course, Anabella played a part in this event. Her arrogance as an elitist, greed and obsession of wanting to obtain higher social status had opened up an opportunity for Ultima to take advantage of it. Dion who just wanted to save both his father and homeland from the tyranny, ended up striking his father down by accident resulting the prince to spiral into a deep shock and guilt mentality.
Though Dion managed to get back to his feet, the transgression he committed couldn’t be undone. He blamed himself though no one even the Rosfield siblings never ever blamed him. Yet Dion chose to hold the responsibility by himself.
Clive, this time, was determined to do something for Dion again after Harpocrates’s request three days ago. He didn’t want Dion to suffer alone. Clive wanted to pass a message to him; Letting him know that he's not alone and they are all in this together. As a family.
"What do you propose, brother?" Joshua asked.
“You remember the wild wyvern tail?”
“I do. However, Dion declined the gift.”
“Well, he did. Still the wyvern tail is a symbol to the Holy Empire of Sanbreque and it’s also his favourite flower. We may have planted the seeds at Nigel's yard. Hoping one day it will cheer him up when it blooms in abundance. I was thinking what if we give him the same thing but in a different form?”
Joshua and Jill exchanged looks then pondered for a moment. Maybe it might work…
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"You sure you want to make this?" Otto asked the trio when he studied the blueprint drawing.
"Yes. I have the materials here." Clive placed the box on the table.
"And we would like to make it ourselves. Of course, with you as our guidance." Joshua added on.
“Please keep it as a secret. We don’t want Dion finding it out.” Jill requested.
Otto raised an eyebrow. "Forging something with this design isn't going to be a simple task. It might take a week or so. I mean you three never even done smithing before."
"With our magic, I'm sure we can get it done in about a few days’ time." Clive seems confident.
Otto was taken aback. He let out a grunt. Scratched the back of his head. Finally crossed his arms. "Fine. Let's not waste any time."
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Otto wasn’t joking. The process and progress were indeed hard. It took Jill the whole day with lot of tries to get her ice magic to successfully merged with the silver. She made a few more for backups in case the Rosfield brothers screwed it up.
Once her part was done, Joshua and Clive proceeded. Both utilising their fire magic, trying to forge out the shape perfectly according to the blueprint. It was tough despite Otto’s assistance. There were a lot of trials and errors; either the shape was off, accidentally breaking the materials, Clive clumsily hammered his own fingers during smithing or Joshua ‘burnt’ himself so on.
Meanwhile Dion as usual, either spent time alone outside or staying in the library doing knitting or doing errands for Harpocrates. Though he did notice the Rosfield brothers spending a lot of time at the blacksmith. Luckily, he didn’t suspect anything as Jill instructed Torgal to distract the prince.
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Finally, just as Clive calculated, they completed the piece in just three days. Now to gift it to Dion. Before that, Clive even prayed to Ifrit including the old ancient mural hanging in his chamber that Dion will accept the present they make for him.
The trio approached Dion in the library. They called his name. He glanced up and seemed rather surprised to see Clive, Joshua, Jill including Torgal was there to greet him.
“Is something the matter?” He asked.
“We have something to give you. Could you close your eyes for a moment?” Clive smiled.
Dion was confused. “Oh alright. If you say so.” He did as request without enquiring further.
“Don’t open till we tell you to.” Joshua reminded before nodding at his older brother. Clive took a deep breathe, opened the box and approached Dion. Dion can feel something was carefully and gently pinned on his collar. Clive took a step back and spoke, “Ok. You can open your eyes now.”
Dion did and stared down. He gasped before casting a quick glance at the trio. It was a brooch. A beautifully crystal shaped wyvern tail brooch pinned on his collar. “Is this…” Dion was loss at words as he touched the jewel. He then noticed the small bandages on Clive’s fingers.
“You make this for me?”
“I didn’t do it on my own. Joshua and Jill helped.” Clive smirked at his trusty hound. “Torgal too.” The hound barked. It was proud of it’s distraction skill.
Dion looked at the brooch again. “Why made it for me?”
Clive rubbed the back of his neck. “We made it to convey our message to you.”
“Message?”
“We want you to know that you’re not alone and you have us. Not only just a friend but family as well.”
“Family?” Dion looked away. “We are not even blood related. Furthermore, my father besides my stepmother was responsible for your father’s murder and Rosaria’s downfall. The Holy Empire’s ill treatment towards Bearers. Despite all of these, you still want to consider me as part of the family?”
“Yes. I do.” Clive smiled. “We never blame you. You have done nothing wrong. You’re just the same as us. Victims of Ultima’s scheme. You did what you have to do; to save both your father and homeland. If I was you, I would have done the same thing, Dion.”
Clive reached out to hold Dion’s hand in his. “I know you are suffering a deep guilt about Twinside but know this: It wasn’t your fault at all. And we are willing to share these burdens with you. Don’t hold it all to yourself alone. We are here for you, Dion. You can always reach out to us. We will be here for you whenever you need us.”
Clive pointed to the jewel. “This brooch signified us and you together. As brothers and family. Once Ultima is gone, let us rebuild Rosaria and Sanbreque together as one nation. No more mothercrystals. No more aether. No more magic. Alas no more as Dominants but as normal people.”
Dion was silent as he looked at Clive. Suddenly a single tear drop rolled down his cheek. He quickly wiped it away. “I—I don’t know what to say, Ifrit…I mean Clive.” More tears. “I---” He couldn’t hold back his feelings anymore. Dion never expected he will feel the warmth of something he once lost and longed for it once again. He thought he had completely lost it all. And now here he was, able to experienced it again.
Clive pulled Dion towards him and embraced him like he always did for his little brother. Dion embraced back as he wept. He finally opened up his feelings. Joshua and Jill also embraced Dion while Torgal leaned close to his lap.
“Welcome home, my brother.” Clive said.
“Thank you, Clive. My big brother.”
--END--
Writer's Note: Got the inspiration to write this short fic after watching the cutscene where Dion took out a green pouch to pass it to Terence. Then it later got re-edited into a story where I want Dion to be happy. Acceptance. Dion really deserves a happy ending after what happened to him.
#Final Fantasy 16#ff16#Final Fantasy xvi#ffxvi#clive rosfield#joshua rosfield#dion lesage#i want dion to be happy#dion deserved a happiness
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Notes and an Update: Astarion, Tav, and Trauma in Stories
Pictured above: actual footage of trauma response from Astarion (j/k! kinda!) to catch your eye :D
Hey glittercats and cosmic kittens!
So I've definitely been neglecting the updates here, which I'm going to try to do better with.
We're up to Chapter 11 on this bad boy, and I've adjusted the anticipated chapter count to 30 (but honestly it's probably still all lies because I have absolutely no sense of how much writing each point on my outline ends up being loool).
I have a DOPE beta who's fucking amazing both in terms of conventions and idea partnership and I'm telling you right now, this story is so much better for having their hands and eyes on it.
SOME CONTENT WARNING STUFF RE: THIS CHAPTER:
Alcohol use disorder (AUD) and symptoms of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD).
.
.
.
MORE DETAILS ON THIS -- SPOILERS AHEAD, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK
So hopefully that's enough room for people who don't want to be spoiled to escape!
So I'm going to copy/paste the end note on the story, and expand on it a little bit.
So, although Tav is a "good drunk," as Frank Gallagher might put it, she is 1000% engaging in pretty serious substance abuse, or to be more specific in this chapter, alcohol use disorder. I'm not going to go into the way this story is going to approach mental and behavioral health disorders and trauma; hopefully it will speak for itself. Suffice it to say substance abuse and trauma are not the central subject of this story, but also, Astarion and Tav as they exist in this little pocket dimension of the BG3 universe have been impacted by the trauma they've each experienced both together and as individuals. In general, the impact of trauma can look and feel a lot of ways. Sometimes it's horrifying, sometimes it's heartbreaking, sometimes it's rage-inducing - but let's be honest, sometimes that shit is funny, too, because humor is such an incredible survival tactic / coping mechanism. Even if sometimes we're laughing at shit that shouldn't be funny. (Maybe especially then.) This story isn't going to be an after-school special or a PSA. It's a story about people, and sometimes people are fucked up (literally and figuratively). Anyway, I'll get off my soapbox now. If this has activated you, or you have earnest questions or concerns about what's going on in this story / with these characters, or you just want to shoot the shit, hit me up on my tumblr. There might be more notes there on this eventually, but for now, this chapter actually took a lot out of me and I'm still out here with these perpetual COVID symptoms, so... lol NOT TONIGHT. As always, thank y'all for reading, kudosing, and commenting.
OK, so I may have lied about the no notes part... but honestly, in re-reading that note, I think it kind of gets to the point.
But ALSO...
I've been a geek on the internet for a long, long time. I've engaged with different fan-based writing and roleplaying communities (tabletop, chat-based, forum-based, butt-based -- EVERYTHING) for pretty much the entire time.
"The Tragic Backstory" seems like it's been A Whole Thing since people started creating characters whether for roleplay or stories.
I think times have changed somewhat, but back in the day I ran in circles where a lot of thoughts about writing, creating characters, roleplay, etc. coexisted somewhat peacefully, but an old chestnut that consistently (maybe without fail) turned up in any conversation that involved Writers of Quality was a contingent of folks who had deep disdain for The Tragic Backstory.
I'm talkin' some deep, scathing, elitist shit, my beautiful people.
And I'm not gonna lie to you! This is approximately ten thousand years ago (no but seriously, decades), and honestly, I was up in those conversations, too, throwing around my disdain, assured by my fellow elitists that even though I frequently employed some form of Tragic Backstory, it was OK when I did it because it was good.
I mean in retrospect, it's kinda bullshit. There's always gonna somebody who's gonna think your shit's good, and there's also always gonna be somebody who thinks they're a Better Writer Than You who's gonna think your shit is... well, shit.
Not gonna lie, I still have very strong and particular preferences when it comes to the fic I read in general, and that includes backstory.
But over time, I got progressively less insecure (not just about my writing, but in general) and consequently less concerned with judging writing that's not my flavor as "bad" or "shitty" or "juvenile" (looool seriously, I was a dick) and more concerned with finding and creating writing that is my flavor.
However, and I don't think I'm going to apologize for it, some dickish tendencies linger in my soul. I'm going to try and frame these thoughts in terms of what compels me in a story I'm reading and what I do (or try to do) in my own writing.
This is a very long way of saying if something I say (or have already said) makes you feel like I'm coming for your neck, please know that I'm not.
My thoughts and/or opinions may cause you or someone you love to feel Some Type of Way. That is not my intention. I have no desire to:
Yuck anyone's yum
Contribute to or activate the crippling self-doubt that plagues almost every creative I've ever met
Be a dick.
Having said all that, I do have Thoughts on This Matter.
People write for a lot of reasons, but I'm fairly convinced that nobody's doing it with any level of purity. There are tons of incredible, beautiful, moving stories that feature a whole-ass Self-Insert, maybe even the dreaded Mary Sue.
(lol lookin' at you Dante's Inferno, Tyrion Lannister from A Song of Ice and Fire, and countless others lol)
People write to explore topics and themes that interest them, that compel them, that they see recurring in the world around them and/or their own lives.
One of those things is trauma.
In my writing, I approach trauma, disordered behaviors, dysfunction, dysregulated emotions, etc. (topics both of great interest to me and, not coincidentally, ones with which I have a great deal of personal experience) from a place of wanting fervently to tell the truth.
And I'm pretty good writing some things that feel true.
But I know that in some ways, I've shied away from harder truths; from using my writing and the characters I create not only as reflections of what I see in the world, but as accurate (rather than idealized) reflections of myself.
Because of this, while I've explored redemption arcs in roleplaying games (where being cheesy or facile or juvenile or fulfilling personal fantasies felt much safer than on a page), I've skirted neatly around it, I think, in my writing (for the most part). Because I absolutely was the girl who wanted to "save" or "fix" the wounded (and emotionally unavailable, and/or abusive, and/or toxic) lover. I wanted stories about it. I wanted to roll around in that narrative, bathe in it, eat it up for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
All while occupying the role/perspective of The Good One / The Good Girl whether in a game or in a story I was consuming.
But it's not the truth. Not the whole truth, at least. Not for me, anyway.
My admiration, respect, regard, and all the other good words for the writing and acting in Baldur's Gate 3 cannot be overstated. Each of the "origin" characters (and honestly, any character "Tav" has the opportunity to even have a conversation with, much less spend a significant amount of time with) is thoughtfully and truthfully written. I see this more in some than others, but that depth and breadth of understanding about human beings -- sorry, sentient beings -- shows up all over the place and honestly I almost can't stand how much I love it.
I'm not going to say that there's no character I feel this as deeply with as Astarion, but... idk, sometimes.
But there's no need to quantify this. Astarion is one of a number of characters from the game that I'm low-key obsessed with.
As such, when I decided to take on the story outcome in which, in my opinion, he throws all the growth, all the processing, all the truth and reconciliation I saw him moving toward in the game into a fucking woodchipper, I did not want it to be easy.
I get wanting it to be easy, and there are delicious, delicious fics out there that go this route. I think anybody who writes Ascendant Astarion at least flirts with it.
And it's not a binary; it's not either, "OMG this is completely uncomplicated, I love you I'm your spawn and it's just like if you hadn't ascended except your SUPER EXTRA POWERFUL AND SEXY AND HOT AND WHOOPS THERE GO MY PANTIES" (which, tbh... lool I'm not mad at) or "ASTARION IS IRREDEEMABLE LET ME WRITE OF HIS TRAGIC DEMISE AND TAV'S TRAGIC WITNESS TO IT / ENGINEERING OF IT." Which I'm ALSO not mad at, because THOSE THINGS CAN BE TRUE.
But while I'm subscribed to some stories that follow those paths or ones like them, and when I get that notification it's time to STOP THE PRESSES bc mama needs to READ, for me the challenge of this is if I'm going to continue Astarion and Tav's love story (or rekindle it lol), I want to honor the four years of intense character work Neil Newbon and Stephen Rooney and honestly the whole goddamn BG3 team from soup to nuts have done by considering "What would really happen here" as brutally as possible.
Komo, my incredible thought partner-cum-beta, can tell you about the pages of back and forth between us about "fml, how can we make this story work and maintain fidelity to the integrity* of these characters???? WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY"
*not personal integrity -- meta shit. The integrity of their arcs, development, personalities, histories, traumas, etc.
SO. Back to trauma.
I said in my end note for chapter 11 that this story is not an after-school special (which looool probably at least some of you are like wtf are you talking about my dude and I'm like looooool omg life before kids were a whole target demographic unto themselves - kind of lol) or a PSA.
Which alludes to the fact that YES, I want to tell the truth about the ugliness of this relationship and the individuals in it with nuance and empathy and sensitivity; that I want to write about the pain and harm and longing and ache and all of it in ways that are neither hyperbolic nor diminishing.
But also, look, my darling motherfuckers, my comrades in fuckery, whoever's made it this far into this rambling monster of a -- whatever the fuck this is lool -- PEOPLE WHO HAVE TRAUMA ALSO HAVE FUN.
SOMETIMES EVEN WHEN THEY ARE ENGAGING IN BEHAVIORS THAT ARE DESTRUCTIVE TO THEMSELVES AND/OR OTHERS.
I don't think I've sufficiently unpacked this part to dig down much deeper into it, but what I will say is that this is not going to be a passion play about Poor Tav or Drugs Are Bad, Mmkay? or anything else.
What this is going to be (or at least, what I passionately want it to be) is -- framed with a delicious little fake-dating muffin of an emotional MacGuffin -- a portrait of some people in all (or lordt jebus please let me achieve at least MOST) of their complexity.
ALL OF IT.
Lordt Baby Jebus, Allah, Milal, Great Spaghetti Monster, ANYBODY
(not Lolth lol)
hear my prayer!
Aight, that's all I've got for today. <3
If you made it this far, PM me and tell me something you want to see in the story! I'll make you a treat.
And if it don't fit in the story, I might be able to make a li'l drabble happen.
COMING SOON to Writing Notes Storytime:
Identity in this story and in stories in general
The Good, the Bad, and the Neutral: Alignment and Astarion (and some other ppl, too!) in BG3, DnD, and This Story lol
Stuff I'm forgetting bc I'm STILL not over this never-ending COVID fuckery
#ascended astarion#astarion x tav#astarion fic#bg3 fic#meta meta meta!#writing trauma#story notes#characterization#writing tropes#slow burn#banter#bard!tav#manipulative astarion#tav's insight proficiency tho#female friendship is magic#these tags a hot mess an ionca#messy tav#evil astarion#idek what to tag this for anymore#just making up tags now#this story was brought to you in part by bjork#also 90s trip hop#also Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds#also possibly a gummy OOPS
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Ninja Daily: AIC 37
The Kiri delegation arrived at the boundary outside the Fire Daimyo's palace in the middle of a downpour. Gaara stoically endured the change from sunshine to rain. Utakata tossed his hand up to use his sleeve to shield his hair, lip curling in distaste.
Aiko made deliberate eye contact with a drenched man who was vaguely familiar. He was at the head of a small group of armed men who looked like a mix of samurai and shinobi.
"Mizukage-sama," he greeted. "We are honored by your presence." He dropped into a perfectly respectful bow which inadvertently flashed the bald spot on the top of his head. It was quite shiny and showed that his head had a lump.
"Ask him why his head is misshapen," Sanbi urged.
"Fumi-san," Aiko said instead, feeling relatively certain that this was the highest samurai retainer in Fire Country. She had once escorted his family to the capital for a visit, years and a dimension back. "Thank you for coming out to escort us. Shall we?"
Utakata gave her a look. It was a positive one, probably based on his extremely incorrect assumption that she had studied important persons before coming in order to make a good impression.
The walk to the palace itself took about 15 minutes, though the tour of the gardens was somewhat abridged due to weather. Given the damp circumstances, they were led to a guest area and given some time to refresh themselves before their meeting. One of the attendants broke off to drop into a deep bow outside the room. He was still there when the door closed, despite the rest of Fire Country's representatives trailing away.
Utakata immediately went to the restroom and began examining the provided beauty supplies. Aiko gave him a fond smile and tugged a towel off the rack in order to pat at her own hair. She then used the same towel on Gaara, who bore the attention with a resigned sort of grace. While Utakata experimentally rubbed a high grade of camellia oil between his hands to warm it up, Aiko finger-combed her bangs to lay straight and checked that her clothes looked fine.
By the standards of any court, she was wildly underdressed. She considered, not for the first time, if she should put on some armor or a kimono. Either intimidation or beauty, one or the other would convey the gravitas of her station a bit better.
'I should add more of that type of thing to my wardrobe,' Aiko mused. She pursed her lips and looked away from the woman in the mirror, dissatisfied. She was pretty enough, but the reflection didn't convey power and authority by any metric. Aiko's hair was neat enough, but totally plain. She had a pale, drawn face and was clearly a little underweight. Her outfit was fine as a signature look and for an easy transition from the office to the battlefield, but it didn't do her any favors when dealing with civilian royalty.
Maybe a combination would be a good idea. Some type of visible armor combined with a pretty kimono, to show both status and her position.
But for now, she was what she was, since she wasn't willing to take 3 hours trying to put a kimono on by herself and she hadn't brought one, anyway.
She tossed her hair back and strode towards the door. "I guess we're pretty enough, let's go. I'm sure the Daimyo and his court won't be judgmental elitists or anything," Aiko said dryly.
Utakata covered his mouth with his sleeve. He didn't answer, but his eyes betrayed that he was amused as he fell in line.
The attendant was still waiting directly outside. He bowed nearly to his knees and then rushed to stay ahead of Aiko, guiding her with a strange, servile sort of hobbling mien.
It didn't take long to reach their destination. The room was large, at least 30 mats, with lines of cushions burdened with courtiers. The Daimyo himself was at the head of the room, flanked by someone she should probably recognize on his left and his wife on his right. The Daimyo's receiving area was open to the air, with a view of a pond. She looked long enough to see a turtle bob up to peer inquisitively at the gray sky before Aiko turned her attention to business.
"Hi-Kuni no Daimyo-sama," she greeted. She placed her fingers on the floor in front of her cushion and bowed low. "This one is honored by the invitation and most gracious welcome. Gray skies cannot cloud the beauty of Hi Kuni."
She could almost sense Utakata's incredulity, but she couldn't see him. He and Gaara were seated behind her, on the bare floor.
"Kiri no Mizukage-sama," he said in return. His bow was equally deep. She felt a spark of relief and satisfaction that she was apparently on equal terms, despite civilian distaste for the burakumin. "This one thanks you for your travels far from your ocean."
They went back and forth with the mandatory pleasantries, until they could sit back and let the Daimyo's Minister of Finance bring up the bounty and Orochimaru. It would have been gauche for her to seem to ask for money, and it was below the Daimyo to speak of coin. The conversation was bland and proper, and they had quickly managed to confirm that the promise still held and that Fire Country would be eternally grateful for her service.
That put Aiko's hackles up a little bit. She didn't like the implication of 'service' in this context. She was not a- okay, yes, she was a citizen of Fire Country and had sworn to serve it, but they had no idea about that. They only knew her as a foreign warlord.
She let it go, however, and let the Minister of Finance escort her out, where they could have a more candid discussion that involved numbers and bank routing.
'Money, money, money.'
She tried not to look too smug. This would more than make up for the income lost through giving up her drug running. Well. 6 months of it, anyway, and it was a good trade off effort-wise. Killing Orochimaru was a one-time affair.
...She crossed her fingers.
"Do you have reason to believe he might return?"
'No,' Aiko had to admit. 'Except that it would be really awful and inconvenient and rude, so I think it sounds like classic Orochimaru.'
Sanbi gave a doubtful little hum. "In that case, perhaps any follow-up murdering should be done by another party. Your itinerary is very full."
'It's not murder,' Aiko thought defensively.
"Why not?"
...It was murder. She felt her lips flatten into a thin line. 'The word 'murder' makes killing people sound so unpleasant. Don't be gauche.'
"-zukage-sama."
She jerked back to attention, although the Minister didn't seem to have noticed her inattention. They had arrived at an elegant little office, where a glossy table of pale wood was waiting with neat piles of paperwork and thick seating cushions. She inclined her head slightly and swept in to take her seat first, hovering for a moment to be sure she'd guessed right before gracefully folding her legs.
They went through some more pleasantries, and then Aiko gestured for Utakata to give an envelope to the Minister. The men exchanged it with careful bows and both hands in an elegant dance of social nicety. Aiko wondered if she looked half that graceful, and then decided that she probably did not.
The envelope had their routing number discreetly at the end of a flowery letter designed to distract from the routing number, even though the financial information was the only information being conveyed. It wouldn't have been very elegant to show up with a photocopy of page 1 of their bank book.
"There is one small matter of curiousity." The Minister said, as though it had just occurred to him and was not a mandated topic.
Aiko made a politely interested face and tilted her head slightly. "Yes, Nagase-san?"
"The encounter with the criminal was in Rice Country, was it not?" The man had a carefully neutral tone.
"That's true," Aiko confirmed.
"I see." He gave a little bow. "Forgive my impertinence in asking, but we were under the impression that Orochimaru-san had been using property in Fire Country."
...She tried not to stare. "I believe that he used some facilities in Fire Country," Aiko confirmed.
'Did they know he was still operating in their borders? Or did Konoha mention it?'
"This is grave news indeed," Nagase intoned. "The idea that such a dangerous person was operating within our sovereign country is of great concern to the Daimyo. Can you detail these locations?"
"Why would they ask you this?" Sanbi put an unflattering amount of stress on that question. "Shouldn't they communicate with their kage?"
'I don't appreciate that tone, but you're right.'
"I'm sorry to say that I no longer have the necessary details," Aiko lied gracefully. She allowed her tone to sound apologetic. "I found some information in Rice Country, and passed it into Konohagakure's care. I am certain that they will communicate further with the office of the Daimyo."
Whatever was going on, she was not getting in the middle of it.
"Of course," he said, and she had the distinct impression that he did not believe she had not memorized the information, which was rude and correct. "As foreigners cannot possess property in Fire Country, there would be no reason for you to be concerned with the details." He gave her a thin smile.
She had to work to not react to that provocative wording. There was no way that wasn't a thinly-veiled jab against what the Daimyo apparently believed were her home ownership ambitions in Fire Country.
Whatever. She wasn't here to make friends, she was here to collect on a bill. So she tried to smooth it over and correct that impression. "What an interesting policy," Aiko said diplomatically. "I can see the utility of ensuring that foreign nationals do not buy homes and farmland that locals need. In fact, Kirigakure does not allow non-citizens to obtain property in the capital without applying for approval."
Nagase nodded. "One of many benefits. Fire Country has many cultural and natural resources to protect. Diluting our citizenry with outside influence would harm our heritage. We have a very thorough policy to discourage economically motivated migration. Only natural-born citizens may own and sell property in Fire Country."
Her smile felt a bit strained. That sounded a lot like he thought keeping non-citizens out was inherently good. Which rubbed her the wrong way.
"That sounds bigoted," Sanbi said, intrigued. "Correct?"
'Yeah, that's fucked up. If somebody resides, pays taxes, and obeys the law, I don't see why their country of origin should matter.'
"Is that so?" Aiko asked, in mild disbelief. "The Land of Fire forbids sale and property ownership to naturalized citizens?"
If they had said it would be awkward for a foreign political leader to possess land, that would have made some sense. Nobody wanted foreign warlords making sneaky inroads. And nobody trusted her in particular, for gross anti-Kiri reasoning.
"In the interest of fairness, you have stolen a neighboring country."
Aiko nobly pretended not to hear Sanbi's gross mischaracterization of her involvement of the extremely minor details in the change of management of Wave Country.
Nagase had nodded, as if this was a totally uncontroversial policy. "Fire Country has a storied history. To protect it, property rights are restricted to those who can trace their ancestry within our borders."
Aiko narrowed her eyes, just a bit. Wow, a category that Aiko belonged to. What a tragic legal coincidence.
Gaara, who was currently residing in a foreign country in an apprenticeship, frowned. He was probably well-aware that Kirigakure did not have that restriction.
Nagase's eyes darted to Gaara, and then away. He began to sweat a little. It was a little late to read the air and realize he'd annoyed his guests.
"Oh, so it's even worse," Sanbi said in a tone of realization. "Immigrants cannot own property at all even after gaining citizenship. I wonder how many generations this policy applies to."
'I'm lowkey offended that my home country has worse property regulations than Kiri.'
Aiko blinked and nodded, forcing mild interest onto her face. "Of course," she murmured. "The preservation of local culture is an invaluable pursuit."
"Really?" Sanbi asked.
'I'm going to spite them, I'm throwing him off my scent.'
Sanbi made a relieved sound.
That lack of faith was mildly insulting. Of course she was going to fuck these people over. Sanbi was right, though, that it would be an absolute nightmare if she tried to have a second home in Fire Country. Daughter of a Hokage or not, she was still a foreign military leader of a historically hostile nation.
"I believe you shall find a way to make them regret this ill-considered policy. Inspiring regret and misfortune is your personal calling," Sanbi said.
He was definitely provoking her. She tossed her hair and focused on the rest of the discussion, which was cautiously bland and ended with a guarantee for a transfer by the end of the business day. They went back to their rooms. She went into the bathroom and washed her hands, and then went to Wave Country to meet with the pencil queen.
Shimizu-sama had prepared notes and a table, with hot tea waiting. "Mizukage-sama, thank you for your valuable time," she said. It was brisk and polite.
"Excuse my rudeness," Aiko said, stepping up onto the tatami and sitting at the waiting spot. "Was your escort agreeable?"
"There were more casualties than anticipated, particularly a very large quantity of small and hungry fish." The older woman glanced up and took a sip of her own tea. "However, there were no significant inconveniences and we made excellent time. Perhaps I have even arranged a political marriage for my daughter which would be advantageous."
Aiko waited a moment for the punchline of that strange joke. But Shimizu appeared to be serious.
...fish? Her chuunin darlings had gone from the Shimizu family home to the capital city of Wave and racked up a significant marine body count?
Aiko opened her mouth to ask. She closed it again. There wasn't time for that. "I am honored by your kind words," she went with. "As for the day's business, if we might be so gauche as to go directly to business."
"We may," Shimizu agreed. "The Daimyo is ill recently."
"That's deeply unfortunate," said Aiko, who had not personally poisoned any Daimyo to make him suspicious of his potential successors, and definitely didn't suspect anything from her civilian allies. "In such times, the guidance of one's family and trusted advisors is paramount."
"Of course," Shimizu agreed. "Wave is blessed by the wise guidance of many senior officials. In order to deal with these trying times, there has been some administrative changes to best utilize everyone's talents."
"A clever idea," Aiko said politely.
"I cannot help but think that certain courtiers who now have lessened duties but possess much experience might be significant assets. It is a shame that their considerable abilities are not being utilized."
"Oh," said Aiko, as if she had not expected this. "I am lacking in leadership. Perhaps I could request some personnel from the Daimyo. It would be an honor to host such august persons."
"What a lovely idea," Shimizu said. She had a sharp little smile, just for a moment. "I can think of some people whose expertise would be a great benefit to Kirigakure."
"Joint administration between Wave and Kirigakure could only benefit our countries," said Aiko, who was planning to give exactly zero influence to displaced nobility being shunted away from court where they might interfere with the change in administration. It was mildly insulting to be used as the desolate island political banishment site, but it was also funny and she appreciated that. The tourism slogan "Kirigakure, where dreams come to die," had a kind of ring to it.
"How should I make contact regarding this issue?"
"It would be easy for the Daimyo to make this decision, were you to request personnel." Shimizu poured another steaming cup of tea. "I suggest that you contact his representative Bara Nodoko, and request certain types of experts. It might even be an honor if you were to request them by name."
"Oh, can you provide names?" Aiko asked idly. "With my poor familiarity with the political situation, I would hate to make mistakes."
Shimizu gave a nice little nod. "By chance, I can," she said. "Through extreme good luck, I happen to have a written list of courtiers here. If I might make notes by certain names..."
"Please do," Aiko said, and drank her second cup of tea. "I'll be certain to let the Daimyo know who passed such interesting information to my students." Once she had her neat little list of people who Shimizu wanted out of the capital and away from any influence, Aiko went back to Fire Country and got ready for bed.
They got up hideously early for breakfast. Aiko recieved a tray that contained several polite notes and a copy of a completed bank transfer form. After they collected their things from their rooms, they were politely escorted back to the border of Fire Country. Aiko let her escorts touch either arm, and hiraishin'd them away.
"Aiko-sama," Utakata said slowly. He took his hand away and frowned at their surroundings. "This is not your office."
"It isn't," Aiko agreed. She watched the person sitting in reception make eye contact and turn white behind her glasses. "It's city hall in a little farming town outside of Konohagakure." She patted Gaara's hand and then pulled away.
"Why?" Utakata said flatly.
"I need to do some paperwork," Aiko said sensibly. "Why else would I be here?"
Gaara, who caught on fast, tilted his head. "Is this the town closest to the base where Orochimaru had been doing business?"
"It is," Aiko agreed. She flashed him a smile and stepped forward towards the reception desk. The woman sitting behind it adjusted her neat blue neckerchief as if it was armor. "I need to put in a property ownership claim."
"Foreign residents can't own property in Fire Country," Gaara said, as if she might have forgotten.
She shook her head. "He didn't say a thing about native-born citizens who live abroad."
"A critical error in judgment," Utakata said flatly.
"You love me," Aiko reminded him. She turned to the woman behind the desk, who was stone-still and very professional-looking. "Hello, I'm here to enquire about a property outside of town, about 8km to the west. It was previously owned by Orochimaru-san, who forfeited his ownership to me when I collected on the bounty for his capture or neutralization."
"Please take a number," the city hall employee said, on professional reflex. She appeared to immediately regret it, flushing slightly red. But she didn't back down, either.
Aiko gave her a slight frown and leaned over slightly to pull a numbered ticket. It said 3. The office appeared to be empty, but… she could take a seat, if that was appropriate? She took a step back.
The light above the desk dinged.
The worker looked at her screen. It lit up the faint hint of forming crow's lines outside her eyes. "Number 3," she called. "I can see you now at desk number 1."
Aiko could not help but glance around to confirm what she already knew.
'There is only one desk in this room.'
But the only desk in the room did have a big black 1 painted on the front, so Aiko took one step forward. "I'm here to ask about the title for a piece of land in this jurisdiction."
The woman glanced at Aiko, Utakata, and then tilted her head down to look at Gaara. Her steely demeanor faltered at whatever she saw on him. "Ano…" She swallowed, and seemed to recover her nerve. "Do you happen to have the exact address? I'll need to get the records."
Aiko rattled it off, and the woman wrote it on a note. She gave them a professional, if slightly strained smile, and invited them to have a seat while she excused herself to the archives.
The chair creaked when Aiko sat down. It was the only sound other than heel clicks fading into the distance.
"Why would you want this land?" Gaara asked.
"Spite." Utakata took a seat without a sound.
"No," Gaara dismissed. His bangs flopped in front of his face when he shook his head. "If this was merely spite, she would exercise her pettiness in a more convenient way. I suspect there will be profit. Maliciousness alone is too impractical to inspire the decision to claim the property. It would be a diplomatic nightmare for Aiko-shishou to possess a second home so close to another nation's capital."
"Crimetown," Aiko said absently.
Utakata repeated that far too loudly. She gave him a scolding look, because really, he should know to behave better in public.
"You will sell the compound quickly, then," Gaara confirmed.
Aiko winked at him. "Yes. To whom?"
A line formed between his lack of eyebrows. He stared at her. He was probably compiling everything he knew about her and who she might know with Fire Country citizenship. "You don't have a specific buyer yet," he said slowly. "Your candidates…" He looked scandalized.
"Crimetown," Aiko repeated cheerfully. This time Gaara clearly understood that she was making a proposal, not slandering Konoha.
He sighed heavily and looked at the ceiling.
"Surely you know some Fire Country citizens in good standing, of strong moral character, who would be good contacts for Kirigakure and not cause any trouble or scandal," Utakata said. He might have been pleading.
"Yes, many," Aiko agreed. "But I don't want to sell to any of them. I want to create crimetown smack in the middle of Konoha and the capital and make sure they can't do anything about it."
"One reasonable person," Utakata said. He was definitely begging. "Someone analogous to Shimizu-sama, for example."
"I know a narcotics dealer who has pet tigers," Aiko said idly. "He could use a nice big space for a big cat sanctuary."
"Someone corrupt, among the nobility," Utakata switched tacts. "We can find someone who has financial need, fading status, and exchange goodwill for farmland that will revive their prospects."
"Could be a full zoo, actually," Aiko mused. "That would provide a really good explanation about all the people who stay there, and people who come to see the animals would make it easier to visit discreetly on other business."
"Number 3, I can see you at desk 1."
Aiko stood and sauntered back to the desk. The same woman was there, with a photocopied piece of paper and a small folder.
"Here is the requested information," she said. Aiko took it when it was extended. "If this paperwork is properly filled out we can file your request."
Aiko eyed her.
The office worker, who was not interested in telling the Mizukage that she could not buy a nightmare factory nearby, met her gaze fairly steadily. "It's all included," she said. "Is there anything else?"
"Yes, I'd also like the form to register a bill of sale, and contact information for some local Notaries Public that your office recommends." Aiko played idly with the pen tied to the desk. "I'd also like information about registering townships."
Utakata sighed loudly.
The older woman didn't even blink, much less prevaricate. Those documents were obtained readily from a filing cabinet under the desk that was probably full of all sorts of blank documents.
Aiko pursed her lips once more as these were handed to her without a hint of commentary or hesitation.
This 30-something year old clerk really wasn't going to say a damn thing about a foreign military dictator in her office asking for paperwork it was legally impossible for her to fill out, as far as any reasonable person would guess. Not a word. She hadn't let on that she recognized any of them, despite their headbands and fairly distinctive appearances. Aiko had fully expected her to get her supervisor, at least.
"I respect you," Aiko said. "Keep up the good work." And then she nodded and left, taking the time to make sure her coat flared behind her.
#vapors#uzumaki aiko#electrasev5n#ninja daily#fanfiction#naruto fanfiction#clarity#AIC#Aiko in Canon
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OBX Season 3: Topper
Let’s talk Topper. It’s good that an average of 2 people read these OBX analyses posts because I’m about to unleash an unpopular one.
Topper is good, actually? Okay, well. Maybe not. BUT you gotta hear me out on my Topper opinions. The problem with Topper isn’t that he’s Topper, but that he’s written extremely inconsistently, which is a problem OBX tends to have with its villains (I’ll get to you, Rafe and Ward).
Season 1, Season 2, and Season 3 Topper are all completely different people. They have throughlines (elitist, snobby, rich), but are written very differently each season.
Season 1 Topper is verging on unhinged. He’s violent and he feels entitled to Sarah’s love. He’s blinded by jealousy and is essentially, Rafe Jr.
Season 2 Topper is deeply in love and emotionally manipulative, but doesn’t seem like the guy doing coke and punching the lights out of John B from Season 1. He shows genuine care for Sarah, but all of it is tinged with a deeper lining that he’s not just doing it for her, he’s doing it in the hopes she’ll come back to him.
Season 3 Topper is two different things within itself. Now, here’s my Topper defense. In the first half of Season 3 (let’s call it 3A), I was like. I would trade Topper for John B. Now, maybe that’s not saying much because I’d sell John B to satan for one corn chip, but 3A Topper was FUN. He had three important traits 1) still a snob 2) simp for Sarah Cameron and 3) little baby bitch scared of everything. Like the train heist was SO fun because Topper was there going “OH GOD OH FUCK OH NO WHAT’S GOING ON”. 3A Topper actually fills a big void, which is that ever since Pope got involved in his family’s quest, his role as “the reluctant one” has been removed, and it’s actually a vital role for providing levity. THAT is what Season 3A Topper was good for (Also, to clarify, he should never date Sarah, I just think 3A Topper would be a hilarious addition to the Scooby Gang. Imagine Topper in Poguelandia. Hilarious.)
Season 3B Topper goes completely unhinged, returns to a HEIGHTENED version of his S1 personality. Like, nowhere in S2 or S3A would I have ever thought Topper would be capable of arson. Like do we remember Topper’s reaction to Rafe trying to kill Sarah last season? And now he’s trying to BURN HER ALIVE.
And it boils down to this: Topper is a plot-guiding character. They don’t write him to be consistent, they write him to adapt to whatever the plot needs to be. When they need him to be an antagonist, he’s violent, irrational, and unhinged, because the plot calls for it (they need a reason for there to be a time crunch to get on the plane- they make Topper that reason), when they need a reason for Sarah to question her life decisions, he’s in love and deeply misguided, still an asshole, but not crazy. It’s a frustrating character because I’d really be fine with either angle, I just wanted them to commit.
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im rlly glad i found drawfee a few years ago. no joke- their attitude with art and approach to teaching re-ignited my love for art. i kinda faded from it for a few years, for various reasons. It was really nice to reclaim so many good mindsets. "Even if its bad you still made something." "It takes a while to get anywhere so enjoy the journey." "find beauty in what you've made even if you can see flaws in it." (maybe not directly stated philosophys but just generally how theyve come off to me.) and just to see Profesionals have issues and opinions i relate to made art so much less scary again. i was never really afraid, persay, in any way but yknow. elitist attitudes are like poison for creativity. Plenty of us slip into "if it isnt going to be any good why even do it."
But thanks to Drawfee and this little pocket of tumblr ive found myself in, and now also thanks to my friends, I've been able to look at my own art and see the good. The progress. The concept itself, behind my art, and be proud that i made anything at all. I've even been able to look at my art and see it how others would once in awhile. Without hyperfocusing on every brush stroke I know I made.
It's just all so very nice. considering I've been taking art a bit more seriously for only about, 3 years? 5 if you're generous. That's what it feels like anyway. I have been painting my entire life. And practicing without it feeling like practice. Anyway considering all that, its pretty neat how far ive come already :D
It's nice to be proud of every new piece and every new sketch. To have fun with every new learning curve. To have the freedom to choose to upload something "subpar" because i wanted to share a concept or creation of mine, and just didnt have it in me to take it any farther. This is a nice creative freedom. I hope you get that too one day, wherever you might need this state of mind.
#longass post cause i have to stay awake to get back on my schedule#and i have Thoughts when im tired#boy do i have so many thoughts when im tired.#rotthoughts
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Might be more of a white culture thing. I get called names often when I point to actionable things one can do. Usually from particularly Black and other PoCs, they're more straight with me than white women are when they assume I'm a woman, even if I point out I'm NB and particularly don't subscribe to white (US Middle Class) woman's speech, which I never could quite master nor like.
There was a study on white women's speech about an Italian family, I think, granted US-based immigrants, where women of the family were taught more to be "peacemakers" and use indirect questions, (not the Jewish kind of questions) to particularly needle people into doing action.
Jewish speech (since I was raised Jewish as part of being adopted), tends to have more rhetorical questions to challenge people to think more deeper or examine their thoughts. (Plenty of papers on this, I actually wrote a long post about it)
But outside of (white) Jewish circles, often questions are used as passive aggressive behavior and ways to diffuse conflict. Such as the white woman speech of something like, "We do not hit other kids. How do you think the other kid feels?"
BTW, this is far from the white woman's tears and toxic white women's speech as pointed out by Robin DiAngelo, but does show the gulf between how women are treated between cultures and often I've observed PoCs are more likely to try to conform to white ways of gender when faced with someone white due to mainly stereotype threat and also some speech patterns which are harder to deal with if you aren't versed with how to deal with the toxicity. People tend to hedge their bets.
By the way, straight pitching here, but I'd really, really like a philosophical discussion on two things, though I'm well aware these are loosey goosey. And yes, maybe influenced by the US election:
The questions are these two:
Does true altruism exist? Is there a way to make an outgroup care about the in-group, when they have no skin in the game and keep showing up? I remember the episode you did about Sam Altman? But it didn't get into this question. We're stuck worldwide with people who don't care, but is there a philosophical way to get people to care about groups they don't belong to?
And the other question is how does one sell an idea of masculinity that is not the Alpha, Beta, etc set and can we escape that to men in such a way that they feel invited? I've read about sacred masculinity and also the secure masculinity models, but worldwide the shift towards that ultra masculinity seems to be winning because it feels powerful. The current movement of feminism is asking how to reframe masculinity itself.
I'd like to see it in an intersectional way for both topics. Such a way that it sees internationally and through lens of intersectional queerness.
You've circled around these topics, gone through them talked about queerness, communication, but I've felt like it's a glancing blow. I'm aware this is a hard ask. But I have to admit the last US election and watching other elections where people have swung far right on self interest alone over community has left me wondering if I missed something. Distrust of community that deep leaves me reeling.
I encountered women who were willing to, for example, stick it to trans people over protecting their own rights and philosophically I do not understand why they would choose hate over saying everyone deserves rights. I did the sit down and listen, but hit hard dead end walls, like I was being an elitist for going to college and the pursuit of knowledge is being snobby. Or literal professed Neo-Nazis, like telling me people should believe in Mein Kampf. And I'm sitting here thinking what more could I have done to make people care and care about people unlike them as a really marginalized person. It hit so many walls, and I tried very hard not to yell, scream, but reason through emotions, logic, but I can't help feeling a little frustrated that maybe I didn't know enough in order to get them to see a different way and move them that little bit or at least crack their wall through the interaction.
Separating The Art from the Artist ('s Gender)
an interesting thing I've observed:
I've been making art for my whole life, and I publicly transitioned a few years ago, and it's super interesting how much criticism changed when I came out
When I was in the closet the criticism I got for my work was a lot more useful. It was generally constructive, usually specific and actionable, usually coming from a place of sincerely engaging with my work even if it didn't always like it. So even the negative stuff was usually helpful?
Whereas now, most of the criticism I get seems a lot more "vibes based"? It's more vague; it's more likely to contain factual errors like "The work says X" when the work doesn't say that, or even says the opposite; the criticism is often less actionable; and it's more likely to treat my work as something that has accidental features to which the audience has a reaction that is the most important thing, rather than something that has deliberate features because I chose to put them there? And so it's judged much more by whether people vibed with it rather than by whether it achieved what I intended it to
idk, it's just interesting, maybe it's not a gender thing maybe it's just that people's media literacy is changing? maybe i'm attracting different audiences now? maybe I'm just worse lol
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Don't know which blog this will go to so warning this is a vent of sorts, mostly a rant, but either way. Also a bit of swearing at the end
So I've been on toyhouse getting some OCs lately as I do here and there randomly, some for free, some through trade, a couple through some raffles, the whole sha-bang. Going through the toyhouse freebie trade section is... rough sometimes.
I had to block and mute a few people cause of some of their general OC "rules" like one person saying if you have over 150 characters but under like 50 they wouldn't give you any (it was like 150 is "okay" and 200 was too many, but an account with 50 or less was just someone "having a second account to hide the truth" that they would allegedly have like over 800) and it's like... wow I'm sure you're fun to have around on the OC storing website... (severely sarcastic here for those who need tone tags, i don't know them well enough to use sry)
Now that person was like the worst, but there were others that said no one over 150/200/ no "new accounts" or accounts with more than 10 pages of OC/etc etc.
And like... as someone who LOVES making designs on picrew and saving them cause their cute and loved trading/getting OCs from friends in my DA days and still doing that occasionally where friends still gift me OCs cause they don't want them I can't understand this thought process, how does me having x amount of OCs I love regardless of how much art those characters have effect you? I don't get an OC from x person and wait til their rules say I can trade them again and shove them back into the trade listings, I keep them. Unless I genuinely lose complete interest in the design and character I keep them. I'm not big into undertale anymore, but I still have EVERY SINGLE skeleton OC from that time and have gotten more past that, cause many of them don't involve UT and have their own lives outside of it. I still have my MLP OCs for mlp g4, most of those OCs have full stories unwritten, with little to no art, but I still keep them. I don't make any stories for those OCs either, their stories are written and done with mostly minuet things being undecided rather than actual story being untold, but I can't write stories easily so these kinda people would assume I'm just hoarding good OCs, letting them "collect dust" which like... that's such a load of bullshit, like seriously they can't collect dust, they're not real they're designs I made in highschool or got in hs.
It's so weird to say that people who want to give their OCs away are kinda elitist with it, but a lot of people are.
Also if you're on th never use the wta/dta/game trade listing, like don't look for an OC there, stick to the normal freebie section. Again with the whole elitist thing, a LOT of adopts in the first one are old, never get sent to any one, or the rules for a wta are quite literally write a novel to maybe get the OC if the current owner decides you're in their good graces (this is not me being salty I have literally seen this happen SEVERAL times while browsing). DTAs are also usually incredibly old or are built on a raffle/ after x amount of time they'll decide on/spin for a winner adn many of the older ones have ended with nothing happening, just silence adn people leaving it to rot.
Anyways sorry for the mega rant I just wanted to scream into the void about something I'm not bringing to the website itself in case some rando decides to call out post me for being a "petty hoarder" or something dumb (yes people have had call out posts on there written about them "being hoarders" and such)...
#toyhouse is irritating#oc hoarders don't exist#tw swearing#cw swearing#rant post#vent post#i love my ocs and NO ONE will ever ever EVER take them away from me#not agere#not otherkin
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Yo yo yo! It's June topster day!
This month I listened to a lot of "must listens" also Steve Albini finally died so I could check out Big Black's albums.
Unsure: Gorguts-Obscura (Avant-Guard/Death Metal): What the actual fuck is this album? The entirety of this feels like every member of the band is playing different songs. There are few songs that "I get" but I think this definitely needs some more time for me. Though I still recommend it as it is an interesting experience.
14th: Blasphemy-Fallen Angel of Doom (War Metal): No. I consider myself someone who enjoys quite a lot of black metal, but this shit is genuinely goofy.
13th: Dropdead-Selftitle 1993 (Powerviolence): It's alright, doesn't really stick out as much as other pv records I listened through.
12th: Napalm Death-Scum (Grindcore): The father of grindcore sure feels like as the father of grindcore. I didn't really think that grind evolved a lot, but after listening to this I realised that the genre itself got a little more... focused or something? Half of the songs here feel like they're made to make non punks be pissed about "Hurr durr how can people listen to 4 seconds of noise and call it music?". I'm sure it will grow on me but I feel like this record haven't aged the best.
11th: Motörhead-Ace of Spades (Hard Rock/Speed Metal): The title track is so good that they recorded it 11 more times. I probably have a bitter taste in my mouth cuz every good damned place circlejerks over this album with shit like "ooooh this is the only band that both punks and metalhead and rockers alike enjoy" and then it's just the most basic ass hard rock album on the planet. Also I know that jailbait is supposed to be a satire/parody of the pedo musicians of that era, but Lemmy was such a genius that he forgot to make it sound like a satire/parody. Just listen to the title track and maybe listen to the We Are The Road Crew and you can skip the rest.
10th: Nails-Abandon All Life (Grindcore/Powerviolence): Short and sweet like all pv records should be. Some people consider this to be Nails' best but I can't see that.
9th: Big Black-Songs About Fucking (Noise Rock): The hardest album name ever. Alone it's a great album, but knowing that it's the follow up to Atomizer makes it a bit less impressive. The first half (Happy Otter) is the part which got a proper studio recording session, it is more polished and "thought over". Arguably every song in this part fucks hard. The second half (Sad Otter) was just put together at home and feels like a rough demo. It has good songs, but they could have been way better. I highly recommend this album, but only after listening to Atomizer.
8th: Nails-You Will Never Be One Of Us (Grindcore): Oh my fucking God this album fucks so hard. The intro song with the other punk metal crossover vocalist dropping the album name goes so hard it makes me hate the police even more. I'd argue that this is Nails' best...right after Unsilent Death... but still their best.
7th: Neurosis-Souls at Zero (Atmospheric Sludge Metal): This is their 3rd highest rated album and their 1st and 2nd are unavailable in my country due to bs copyright issues. Still it's pretty good. I've only dabbled into the whole atmosludge genre, but I have to be honest I see why people rate this over regular sludge.
6th: Kate Bush-Hounds of Love (Art/Prog Pop): Even though I more of a Björk, Billie Eilish and Sade kinda guy... this is so good. Hounds of Love literally redefined for me what pop music means for me, and I wasn't even a (major) elitist to begin with! The second half with the more artsy stuff is in short beautiful. I have no words to describe how this album makes me feel.
5th: Megadeth-Rust in Peace (Thrash Metal): Dave Mustain sucks as a vocalist... but he can sure solo! Hangar 18 feels like the dude on the cover is personally guiding the listener through the cover showing off all the weird stuff, which makes the rest of the album oddly atmospheric in a conceptual way? I guess. All in all, all that matters that this album is filled to the brim with insane guitar work. This one is especially good for newer guitarists who are interested in metal.
4th: Big Black-Atomizer (Noise Rock): 10/10, I give no more words, this is a must experience to everyone who loves noisy shit.
3rd: Carcass-Hearthwork (Melodic Death Metal): I don't know how Carcass went from inventing goregrind to making this. I can barely comprehend all the massive guitar work put into this. This is probably one of the safest places to start listening to death metal (in a good way).
2nd: Bolt Thrower-...For Victory (Death Metal): Bolt Thrower can't miss. That's just a fact at this point. They stuffed so much groove into this album filled with "war sucks" energy that it can't be put into words by my illiterate ass. Just binge BT's discography already.
1st: Throbbing Gristle-20 Jazz Funk Greats (Industrial): This is the most overlooked album on every music site.
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it kinda felt like april was a less busy month than usual, but i also feel like i ended up writing way more than i usually do. there were quite a few great albums this month, one that has a strong case for being my album of the year!! there were a few bad and/or disappointing ones though and u can hear me rant and rave about them in this post!!! to check out my thoughts on some of the songs that dropped this month click here!!! also feel free to follow me on rate your music and twitter <3
Only God Was Above Us - Vampire Weekend
🥇 BEST ALBUM OF THE MONTH
◇ genres: indie rock, chamber pop
Vampire Weekend is one of my favorite bands of all time. As a loser Pitchfork reader throughout high school, this band spoke to me in ways few could. In my eyes, at the time, they had the worldliness I craved desperately. They were city boys, connected to some great world that was beyond me as a gay kid who felt trapped in the southern countryside. The influences from African music and the lyrical references to things like kefir and keffiyehs, it was all new to me. I now know what kefir and keffiyehs are and since then I’ve taken the agency to connect with the world outside of my own without the help of these New York Ivy League kids, but I can’t deny that they helped open a door for me that seemed unopenable up to that point. Hindsight has recontextualized the band’s catalog for me. I still enjoy, even love, their older albums in a lot of the same ways I did back then, but I don’t take them at their word. I’m a lot more critical of the aesthetics of the band, especially given some potential allegations against Ezra Koenig. That easy-going, intellectual, soft vibe has proven to be a red herring many times now in the music world. With all of that being said, I was still very excited for Only God Was Above Us. The singles were excellent and they saw the band tackling new sounds with more mature lyricism. This record has the band meditating on generational problems both interpersonally and intrapersonally. About history, love, art, and the earth itself. The band doesn’t, nor are they in any position, to offer some sort of solution to these problems, but it captures the density of the topic extremely well. Despite some of my trepidations, this album is excellent. One of the best I’ve heard in a long time.
It sounds like the perfect culmination of everything they’ve done up to this. It’s both forward-thinking and introspective. It could very well be their peak or it could be a new beginning. This album was recorded with all three members of the band, as opposed to Father of the Bride, which was practically a Koenig solo album and this was definitely the direction they needed to go. They incorporate subtle musical callbacks to their past material to great effect, it feels like the band is also using this record to reflect on their journey up to this point. The opener “Ice Cream Piano” is playful, but also serious in the right ways and sets up the themes of the album very well. It also introduces the sounds of this album very well. A little jagged, psychedelic, and very layered. The lyric, “We're all the sons and daughters of vampires who drained the old world's necks,” could maybe only be pulled off right in a Vampire Weekend song. They’ve always had this playful edge to them despite being labeled as staunch Ivy League elitists throughout their careers, whether that criticism was warranted or not. “Classical” and “Capricorn” were two of the singles, both are absolutely excellent. The former growing on me so much in the context of the record that it’s now one of my favorite songs of theirs. It’s one of Koenig’s most incredibly well-written songs as it has him ruminating on what would remain after a supposed revolution. What would become classical? Massive shoutout to the saxophone part, it rules. The latter was one of my favorite singles from the get-go and it showed the band getting a little folky with it to great effect. It feels like something that would fit on their last album, Father of the Bride, but it sounds so much more organic than the bulk of that record.
“Connect” is one of their more robotic songs, but it’s also one of their most touching. The little drum parts throughout, reminiscent of “Mansard Roof,” add so much. So does that beautiful sprawling piano.“Prep-School Gangsters” sort of flew under my radar on my first few listens, but it’s one of my favorites now. That weird violin-infused breakdown at the end works so well. “The Surfer” and “Gen-X Cops” are also some of the band’s best. Both cuts are like extremely fuzzy surf music and it’s so cool. The line in the latter’s chorus, “Each generation makes its own apology” is also poignant and greatly summarizes the album’s themes. “Mary Boone” is another incredible track. A sparse ballad that eventually blooms into something baggy, not unlike what you might hear on a George Clanton record. I never expected to hear something like this from them, but I’m so glad I did. “Pravda” is probably the most like their older material, but it’s a nice addition. It has the band utilizing a lot of the soukous elements that were present on their debut album. This track also has one of the best choruses here on a record filled with amazing choruses. “Hope” is an anthemic closer, a song that was made to be played live. It’s such an optimistic way to end the album too and while the sentiment can potentially fall flat, I still enjoy it. I imagine the feeling this song gives me is the same feeling rednecks get when they listen to Uncle Kracker. I’m just enamored by the instrumentation of the record. The entire album sounds fuzzy and a bit rough around the edges, especially for them, but the instrumentation is simultaneously so dense and layered. Tackling new sounds, paying homage to the old ones. It sort of sounds like the album art. It’s an incredible experience. This is without a doubt their most mature album to date and it makes a strong case for being their best. I don’t know if it overtakes Modern Vampires of the City for me, but it certainly stands right alongside it. Time will tell if my opinion changes though.
As a longtime fan of Vampire Weekend, this album hit me pretty hard. It’s everything I could’ve wanted from the band at this stage musically. I’ve grown since I first became a fan and it seems like they have too. I believe Only God Was Above Us is one of the strongest indie rock records of the decade thus far. Every time I revisit this record, I find something new about it that I hadn’t noticed on previous listens, which is another testament to how they’ve progressed artistically, but also annoying when you’re trying to write an analysis of it. There are still some reservations I have surrounding the band, but I can’t deny that the music scratches an itch that only Vampire Weekend can do for me. I’m not as uncritical as I once was, but this album is really brilliant.
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All Born Screaming - St. Vincent
◇ genres: art rock, neo-psychedelia
I’ve enjoyed St. Vincent’s albums over the years, but most of them haven’t earned the “I really love this” distinction. Strange Mercy is probably the only exception. Granted, most of her stuff is well overdue for a relisten, but I digress. The singles leading up to this album had me very intrigued. They were sharp, industrial, and kind of funky in the case of “Big Time Nothing.” It was the most exciting she had sounded in years. My expectations for All Born Screaming were high and the album ended up exceeding them greatly. This might be Annie Clark’s strongest record to date, it’s my favorite at least. It’s an incredibly well-crafted, immersive experience with some of the strongest songwriting of her career.
Many people, myself included, expected this album to be full-blown industrial noise rock, but that isn’t the case. Some songs fully embrace it like “Big Time Nothing” and “Flea” to an extent, but that industrial-ness mainly acts as a backdrop to this sonically diverse record. Some might view this as one of the album’s weaknesses. An indication that Clark might be restraining herself, but I disagree. As a creative, she’s on fire here. Her melodies and vocal style here are like watching someone paint an intricate, very dynamic painting on a massive easel. Her vocals complement the vivid lyricism of the album as well. She embodies every word she sings. From the bittersweet loss of “Reckless” to the sinister, almost hedonistic nature of “Flea,” Clark explores every nook and cranny of these songs.
Musically, this album also shines. Clark enlists many notable guest musicians like Dave Grohl and Cate le Bon to help flesh this album’s sound out. Grohl’s drumming on “Broken Man” and “Flea” helps crank things up to another level, giving the songs a bit of an extra bite. Cate le Bon plays bass on my favorite song on the whole album, and maybe my favorite song of Clark’s period, “The Power’s Out.” That thunderous basslines towards the end were what sealed the deal for me, just an overwhelmingly amazing experience. “Violent Times” is another one of the best tracks here and has one of my favorite arrangements on the record with those guitar flares and horns which wouldn’t sound out of place on a Julee Cruise album. I also get very heavy Bowie vibes from it. The weirdest detours here are “Big Time Nothing” and “Sweetest Fruit” which are considerably quirker than the rest of the material here. The latter features a poorly executed, very parasocial tribute to the late SOPHIE which does kind of detract from the otherwise fun song. One of the rare misfires on the record, despite her good intentions. The album ends with the heavy title track which feels like such a colossal final statement. The vocals and the ascending instrumentation are just so striking, a great way to bring this album to a close.
All Born Screaming is perhaps the most well-crafted and fully realized album of Clark’s career thus far. There are very few missteps and I find myself loving it more after each listen. It also makes me want to go back and give her other albums another shot. This is one of my favorites of the year so far, don’t let this slip past you.
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Silence Is Loud - Nia Archives
◇ genres: liquid drum and bass, jungle
Nia Archives wasn’t on my radar at all, but I saw this record getting hyped up on Twitter so I decided to give it a shot. I was blown away. This is an amazing debut album from one of Britain’s most talented producers. She utilizes the jungle/drum and bass sound throughout this project to incredible results. Usually, I find myself getting tired of those skittering beats after a while, but I was fully engaged throughout the album’s 35-minute runtime. A lot of that is a testament to her strengths as a producer, but her energy as a performer and songwriter on this record is a very important part of what makes Silence Is Loud so great.
The title track kicks off the record in explosive fashion. It sounds so mesmerizing, it creates such a distinct vibe. The melody is also just infectious. The kind of track that’s firing on all cylinders. A great way to open your debut. “Cards On The Table” calms things down a bit, but not at the expense of the record’s energy. She blends in some folktronica into the jungle sound and it works so well. Another very strong chorus on this track too. There’s very rarely a dull moment throughout the first half. Just an onslaught of amazing R&B-infused drum and bass cuts that are so easy to get lost in. Much of this album’s lyrical content isn’t as dance-worthy or carefree as the music would lead you to believe. There’s longing, heartbreak, and frustration. “Tell Me What It’s Like?” is one of the few tracks here that adds some darker elements into the mix to fit the underlying meaning of the song. I do enjoy that juxtaposition of frantic, party-like beats and more melancholy lyricism, but the way that track sort of embraced it instead of running from it was so well done. It’s yet another great example of her abilities as a producer. The album’s closer, “So Tell Me…,” also does this. It sounds like a breath of fresh air, it helps you decompress from the journey the album has taken you on without killing the vibe completely. Such a great track. Silence Is Loud is an incredibly impressive debut album. This record is packed with memorable hooks and melodies to go alongside the great production. There’s such a heart to this album that makes it stick out among other drum and bass stuff I’ve heard. Nia Archives is definitely, firmly on my radar now and I can’t wait to hear whatever she does next.
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Triple Digits (112) - RiTchie
◇ genres: experimental hip hop, abstract hip hop
This was one of my most anticipated projects of the year. Ever since Injury Reserve disbanded officially last July, I’ve been patiently awaiting what both RiTchie and Parker Corey would do next. The final Injury Reserve album, By the Time I Get to Phoenix, still stands as one of the most harrowing releases of the decade. Full of great writing and production with plenty of emotion behind it to take it to the next level. I figured the first post-Injury Reserve project would come from By Storm, the new duo formed by RiTchie and Corey, but that wasn’t the case. RiTchie began dropping some incredible singles recently and Triple Digits (112), his first solo album, wasn’t too far behind.
This is a great debut for RiTchie. It strikes a nice balance between the humorous and the surreal. He branches out and works with a plethora of different producers throughout the album, even Corey on the last two tracks, and it rarely ever feels too disjointed. “WYTD?!?!” and the lead single “RiTchie Valens” are some playful, boastful moments early on in the album. They have an underlying concern to them though, like on the latter with the subtle “I’m worried about you Ritchie” lines at the start and finish, but it’s juxtaposed with this almost delusionally optimistic delivery from RiTchie. Those lines appear throughout the album too and it gives the album so much more depth than it initially lets on. The title track gets a little glitchy with it and I love it. “Dizzy” and “Looping” were my favorite singles and being placed one after the other is really interesting. It’s a drastic tonal shift, “Dizzy” is a quirky banger that has an incredible hook, and “Looping” is this atmospheric somber cut. Bold move, but it pays off very well. As I said earlier, the last two tracks have Corey on production duties and they have an undeniable chemistry. Things get dark and almost ambient. Closes the album on a much different note than it began. The posturing is over and he just gets real with the listener. Triple Digits (112) is a very impressive debut. Not every track is a hit, but the majority of the material here is pretty great. It feels like the project he needed to make in a lot of ways. Despite the somber tone at the end of the project, the future looks bright for RiTchie as an artist. I feel like he’s destined to make even more great albums whether they be solo or with By Storm or whoever.
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Connla's Well - Maruja
◇ genres: post-punk, post-rock, art-punk
Maruja’s Knockarea EP from last year took online music communities by storm. It was an exhilarating EP that showed off this band’s talents and potential extremely well. They’ve been dropping some great singles in the time since that continues to show the band’s promise. Those singles, along with some new cuts, are featured on this new EP Connla’s Well. The UK band’s saxophone-infused post-punk/post-rock gains new layers here. The songs I was familiar with going into the EP sound even better here. “The Invisible Man” is a great showcase of the band’s storytelling capabilities both lyrically and musically. The frantic drumming, the crazy saxophone parts, the underlying bass, and the sinister guitar flourishes. It’s one of the most fully realized tracks in the band’s catalog thus far. Still wows me even having heard it long before the EP was announced. Likewise with “Zeitgeist” which has the band leaning further into the art-punk of their last EP. The two new tracks here are instrumentals which might be disappointing to some, but they’re both pretty great. Especially the closer, “Resisting Resistance.” It’s very atmospheric, very post-rock. Every band member shines here and the track leaves room for everything to breathe. Excellent stuff. I have to say, I really hope we get a debut studio album from Maruja soon. Connla’s Well is wonderful, but they’re ready to take that next step. They have all the tools necessary to do so.
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This Could Be Texas - English Teacher
◇ genres: indie rock, art rock
The UK Windmill scene has birthed plenty of exciting new artists over the last few years. Bands like Black Country, New Road, Squid, black midi, and Maruja all have ties to the scene. So do English Teacher and with this debut album, I think they are going to be mentioned alongside those other exciting bands in due time. This Could Be Texas is one of those debut albums that perfectly sets the stage for the band to reach even greater heights. The musicianship here is great, some of the most eclectic and rhythmic instrumentation from the scene. From the dreamy sound of the opener “Albatross,” to the lush vibrant guitars of “The World’s Biggest Paving Slab,” and to the chamber folk of “Mastermind Specialism,” this album is full of surprises and shows off the band’s range very well. They have an exciting, young, and hungry energy to their sound that just gets you into it even through some of the weaker cuts.
The instrumentation is consistently great here, but the glue that holds this record together is Lily Fontaine. She provides the lead vocals and some of the guitars (maybe synths too) throughout the record and she absolutely nails it. The band’s vivid lyricism is fully realized through her performance. A great example of this is on “R&B” where Fontaine sings that she’s been writing sweet R&B songs for someone despite knowing that she should be writing songs for herself instead. It all explodes during the outro where the instrumentation and her vocals intensify as she continues to try to settle that inner conflict. It’s a great moment that showcases the band’s chemistry very well. This song segues nicely into “Nearly Daffodils” which has this pulsating rhythm underneath it that drives the song. It keeps you hanging on until the song’s more explosive moments. “Sideboob” is another one of my favorite tracks here. It provides a synth-heavy and welcome change of pace to the record. There’s no shortage of great songs here, but there are some weaker cuts in both the first and last half. This Could Be Texas is not without its flaws, but it’s an exciting and promising debut for an energetic new band that deserves your full attention. I expect nothing but great things from them!
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Harbour Century - Eunuchs
◇ genres: symphonic prog, avant-prog
There’s a lot to love about Australian avant-prog band Eunuchs’ sophomore album. Harbour Century is an ambitious and dense record filled with masterful instrumentation and rich, world-building lyricism that can’t be unwound on a single listen. They’re delivered through the manic, unpredictable vocals of Linus Hilton who does a great job commanding the record. Acting as some kind of twisted captain of a dingy ship or aloof storyteller in a dimly lit bar. Not to play the comparison game, but many similarities can be drawn between this album’s sound and that of black midi, although Eunuchs are significantly more symphonic. Despite all of these wonderful qualities, the record is hampered by one crucial flaw in particular—the mixing.
These songs are intense, but that intensity is lessened significantly across multiple cuts because it just isn’t loud enough, the vocals in particular. Take the opener, “Magic Death Sea Nemesis,” a layered, chaotic piece with a dynamic vocal performance. The vocals are fighting for your attention alongside the horns and the drums throughout the first portion of the song. It sort of takes me out of it because it feels like a massive oversight or an ill-advised intentional choice. Pretty much every song here, no matter how great it is, has an asterisk beside it noting that the mixing could be way better. It’s frustrating because the songs here are generally pretty great! I love the intense lyricism on “Pat a Dragon,” the uncomfortable elegance of “Gnome and Fortune,” and the subversive song structure of “Hierophant.” They show a band that has something special to them. My favorite track here is the almost 18-minute closer, “The Heroin King.” It actually benefits from the mixing in certain ways, it makes it a bit more mysterious. Harbour Century is a great record and an impressive sophomore release with limited potential due to the mixing choices. Eunuchs sound neutered here. If this album got a remix, I would sing its praises to the high heavens. I still encourage everyone to give it a shot though. Eunuchs are definitely a band that deserves your attention.
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Kabutomushi - Mei Semones
◇ genres: jazz pop, chamber pop
Similarly to the Nia Archives album from this month, I saw this EP getting some buzz on Twitter so I gave it a listen. I’m so glad I did! Jazz pop artist Mei Semones has crafted a nice, concise EP with high replay value. Kabutomushi is filled with tasteful jazzy instrumentation and really strong hooks. Semones’ guitar playing is a massive highlight here in particular. It’s so light and breezy, but so skillful. Displayed perfectly on “Wakare No Kotoba” where her guitar just dances alongside her vocals. The strings across this album are also a great touch. My favorite track here is “Inaka” which is a song for the real yearners out there. The chorus is just so bittersweet and earnest, I love it so much. Also showcases the musicianship on this record perfectly. One of my favorite tracks of the year so far. This EP is only five tracks and that’s a damn shame. By the time it was over, I wanted so much more. I plan on going through her previous EPs soon, but I can’t wait for a full project from her. I also highly recommend watching her show at Brooklyn’s Public Records, it’s such a nice performance.
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If I don't make it, I love u - Still House Plants
◇ genres: experimental rock, post-rock, math rock
Everything on If I don’t make it, I love u feels a bit off. It’s an album that’s impossible to get comfortable with. There is no groove you can settle into and no expectations to carry you through the album besides, I guess, expect that discomfort. All of that is by design though. The sound of this album consists of only guitar, drums, and vocals. It’s just a raw rhythm section with likewise raw vocals ringing out alongside it. “Experimental” is a broad descriptor, but I would say this album fits the bill pretty well. The band says that they rehearsed this album “relentlessly” which makes sense with how confident they sound. Each member’s contributions certainly stand out and they all elevate each other in unorthodox ways. The best representation of the band’s sound comes with the opening track “M M M.” The dissonant instrumentation paired with the drawn-out vocals from Jess Hickie-Kallenbach make for such a unique pairing. It’s uncomfortable and even anxiety-inducing on a first listen, but you just get swallowed in it. It’s an uncompromising record on the whole, at times for better and others for worse, but there is a lot to love here if you’re willing to be patient with it.
The dissonance ramps up even further on “Pant” where David Kennedy’s drums feel like little splashes of water, like there’s a circle of people aggressively spraying water from those mist spray bottles at you. Finlay Clark’s guitar sounds like it’s on fire too, it sounds out of this world. “MORE BOY” has a bit of a slower pace to start, but it’s one of the best-paced tracks here. When the band does ramp things up, it hits so hard. Speaking of pacing, that is one of the album’s weak points. The band’s utilization of all things unconventional wears a bit thin on the ears, at least for me, after a certain point. I can’t really say the band falters because there’s no shortage of interesting ideas in the later stages of the record, this is most certainly just a me thing. I do love the skittering drum beats and the noisy guitar on “Silver Grit Passes Thru My Teeth,” one of the most exhilarating moments here. “No Sleep Deep Risk” has the band diving into slowcore territory and it yields some great results, showing the band in a bit of a different light. Again, lots of highlights despite me feeling a bit exhausted by the end.
This is a really interesting record and I can see how it could prove to be polarizing for some, but it’s definitely worth a listen. I think I would’ve loved the record more if it was trimmed down just a bit, but it’s clear the band was brimming with inspiration so who am I to try to edit them down?
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Twice Around the Sun - Ugly
◇ genres: art rock, indie rock
Twice Around the Sun is an EP that showcases an up-and-coming band with a ton of potential. The musicianship here is absolutely incredible and there are a ton of standout tracks, but also a few missteps that I feel will be ironed out by the band on future projects. There is a heavy choir influence on the vocals throughout the project. “The Wheel” opens the EP with some acapella verses and, I’ll be honest, it doesn’t do much for me. It’s very well done, but it wears thin for me pretty quickly. Things pick up though with the second half of the song which adds some instrumentation to it all. Samuel Goater’s vocals throughout sort of remind me of Jon Anderson from Yes, except this time the prog-rock feels more renaissance faire than cosmic and otherworldly. “Sha” is a massive step up from the opener and has lead vocal duties passed on to Jasmine Miller-Sauchella. It has this sort of alt-country feel to it. Probably my favorite track here. “Icy Windy Sky” is a bit of a step down in comparison and again, I find some of the vocals a little grating, but the fingerpicking guitar work really shines across this cut. I also love the big breakdown towards the end.
The final three tracks are a great run and really make this EP worth checking out. “Shepherd’s Carol” has some of the coolest instrumentation I’ve heard so far this year and the vocals are very tasteful. “Hands of Man” is considerably more somber than the rest of the project, but it works so well. Each twist and turn the music takes just hits so hard. It also has the most clever lyricism on the project, a lot of personality here. “I’m Happy You’re Here” closes the album on a very high note. It continues that more melancholic sound set by the previous track, but it has this grandiosity to it that makes for an interesting listen. I didn’t absolutely adore this EP like I was hoping I would, but Ugly are certainly on my radar now. Can’t wait to hear what they do next!
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Don't Forget Me - Maggie Rogers
◇ genres: pop rock, singer-songwriter, country pop
Maggie Rogers is an artist I’ve always wanted to like more than I do. I tried giving Heard It in a Past Life a chance around the time it came out, but it didn’t grab my interest so I never got around to listening to the whole thing. I gave her last album, Surrender, a shot and while I did finish that one, I wasn’t exactly blown away by it. She certainly has a few good tracks, but she often fails to make a consistently great record. Don’t Forget Me is no exception, unfortunately, but this is probably my favorite release of hers thus far. This album has Rogers shifting away from a lot of the alternative aspects of her sound in favor of some country-tinged singer-songwriter and this style really suits her.
“Drunk” feels like a slightly stripped-back country hit from the mid-2000s. This is one of Rogers’ vocal performances that just hits for me. It has one of those roll the window down while cruising down the road on a warm summer day choruses. The next track “So Sick of Dreaming” expands the instrumentation and it’s also one of her best. This album is at its strongest when it leans heavily into that country sound. “The Kill” is another favorite, but at this point, you run into one of the biggest problems with the album. The structure of pretty much every song here is so unadventurous. By the midpoint of the album, you can largely predict where a song is going to go. Sometimes the instrumentation may shake things up a bit. Like the sparse piano ballad “I Still Do” and the funky rhythms of “On & On & On,” but they just don’t offer many surprises beyond that. I did really enjoy the title track though. This is probably Rogers’ finest moment as a writer. There’s so much character and personality to her writing here, I believe every word she says. Overall, Don’t Forget Me is Rogers’ strongest album to date and I think it sets her on the right track, but it still has a decent amount of underwhelming cuts.
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Found Heaven - Conan Gray
◇ genres: synthpop, pop rock, new wave
Conan Gray’s last two albums didn’t do much for me in the slightest, especially Superache. I listened to one single leading up to this album, “Alley Rose,” and wasn’t a big fan of that either. Something is suffocating about Gray’s music at least in how it’s produced. It restricts the emotion that I know is present in these songs from bursting out. I figured this album would just be indicative of the single and I would be wasting my time, but I had some free time so I decided to give it a listen. Shockingly, I found a lot to enjoy in this record, but it still has a lot of the shortcomings present throughout his previous work. Gray teams up with all-star producers like Max Martin and Shawn Everett for this album and incorporates a lot of synthpop and new wave elements into his sound as well. The best moments on Found Heaven are the ones that fully embrace the glam and the danceability and move away from the sad, balladeering he made a name for himself on. The title track is one of his best, which I understand isn’t a high bar to cross, but still. Fully embracing this sound in every aspect. It sounds like a spruced-up 80s new wave hit with lyrics about queer acceptance. It’s certainly one of Gray’s strongest moments as a lyricist. “Never Ending Song” is a sleek synthpop cut that plays into his strengths very well. It’s probably also the most I’ve been impressed with a Max Martin song in a while. “The Final Fight” veers a bit too close to adult contemporary, but if you just tell yourself it’s sophisti-pop instead you can have a good time with it. The first half of this album is pretty good, but by the halfway point you can tell a lot of these ideas have unfortunately been exhausted. The hooks get weaker, the production gets more tired, the lyricism falls flat more often than not, and we get a few more of those ballads. This would’ve been a very solid EP if it consisted of just the first half or so. Nothing revolutionary, but still his finest project to date. As it stands, Found Heaven is still Gray’s best, but it’s hampered by too many cliche and boring ideas. This is a step in the right direction, I just wish Gray would stop playing it so safe musically.
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Hyperdrama - Justice
◇ genres: french electro, synthwave
I’ve been covering the singles leading up to French electro duo Justice’s new album for the last few months now. I’ve enjoyed them, but I rarely ever found myself going back to them. They were fine, just not interesting enough to keep me coming back for more. Despite that, I still wanted to give Hyperdrama a shot. I was hoping that as a full album, these songs would fully click with me and I would have a great time with it, but unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. Most of the singles somehow got worse in the context of the album. There’s such a lifeless energy to these songs that makes this a tough album to get through. Nothing here is atrociously bad, but it’s just such a tiring experience.
This is a frustrating album to write about because these songs don’t leave me with much to say. I can’t say they’re bad, but there are very few things I can rave about. Some exceptions are “Generator” which actually has some bite to it and “The End” featuring Thundercat which has a pretty good melody. The collaborations with Tame Impala are fine too, but they’re lacking the punch that would elevate them way further. “Incognito,” and a good portion of the tracks here, have all the right tools, but they don’t really come together to make something compelling. I guess Justice just wanted to have an album out in time for festival season and maybe these songs will come alive there, but as an album, Hyperdrama left me pretty cold. The only other Justice album I’d heard before this was † so I don’t know how this album ranks among their discography. I’ve heard Justice fans say this is a step in the right direction, but if that’s the case they need to take quite a few more steps in said direction. Maybe a leap.
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THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT: THE ANTHOLOGY - Taylor Swift
◇ genres: alt-pop, synthpop, singer-songwriter
The Tortured Poets Department is the sound of an artist exhausted. An artist spread far too thin, yet still receiving unadulterated praise and adoration despite it all. As soon as midnight struck on April 19th, the red carpet rolled out. Rolling Stone gave this album a perfect score, lauding it as an “instant classic” as they did with her previous studio effort. Music publications, of the nonserious variety, and of which there are many, did a deep dive into sycophancy and they will do it again the next time the megastar releases a new record. Taylor Swift has become too big to fail. There’s no time to process the art in any way. It’s immediately an “instant classic.” An important, seminal work whether it deserves that distinction or not. Let me make it clear, I don’t hate Taylor Swift. I enjoy a decent amount of her music and I’ll defend her from wrongful criticism like the kind she faced throughout the 2010s for crimes such as simply being a woman and writing break-up songs. However, this complete 180 at the turn of the decade where Swift instantly became an untouchable, revolutionary artist in the eyes of many just feels so forced. I liked folklore and evermore. I respect her for re-recording her old albums so she can fully profit off of her work, every artist deserves that (even though she is a billionaire and is running promotional ad campaigns with Spotify who are anti-art to their very core and want musicians to live off table scraps for the foreseeable future).
This distinction is uncomfortable and it seems as though, at points in the album, Swift feels the same way. She’s drowning in her own fame, losing her individuality, yet she simultaneously keeps feeding into it. This is an album less about pushing her artistry forward and instead building her own mythos, her own lore if you will, so her stans can have a field day and pick it apart until the next one comes out. This album’s central focus is Swift’s “tortured poetry” and that becomes glaringly apparent as the album rolls on. The musical ideas here are so by the numbers for her, hardly any surprises to be found. The arrangements and production are all competent, but it stays far too within a comfort zone that just makes the album feel so sterile. So is Swift’s writing here good? Not particularly, there are a few clever lines, but it’s trying way too hard to be just that. You can definitely tell she’s been spending time around Phoebe Bridgers and Lucy Dacus, but she adds her own millennial charm to it. Simply put, this album is not for someone who isn’t deeply ingrained in the Swift Extended Universe, which seems like a dwindling number of people.
Getting through the first half of this surprise double album wasn’t very enjoyable. “Guilty as Sin?” and “Clara Bow” were my favorite tracks from the first “disc,” the latter actually revealing some interesting depth to her writing that wasn’t present before, but besides that, I was predominantly either apathetic or actively disliking a lot of it. The second half is largely produced with The National’s Aaron Dessner and it’s a very welcome change of pace. It is significantly better, that or maybe I’m having a case of Stockholm syndrome. One of my favorites is “The Albatross” which is pretty well-written and the arrangement is so much more tangible than anything in the first half. Her lyricism on this half still isn’t perfect and it even makes me laugh at certain points, but I would say it’s stronger overall. “I Hate It Here” is rough though. The second verse has Swift singing “My friends used to play a game where / We would pick a decade / We wished we could live in instead of this /I'd say the 1830s but without all the racists / And getting married off for the highest bid.” There are a handful of embarrassing lyrics across this album that I decided not to cover, but I couldn’t ignore that one. Swift pining for the Jacksonian Era.
Neither The Tortured Poets Department, nor the extended THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT: THE ANTHOLOGY, are going to convert any Swift haters, but it will certainly keep the Swift enjoyers happy until the next Taylor’s Version. As for those with relative Swift fatigue, like myself, this didn’t do much for me either. I find it overall to be musically unadventurous with lyrics that often insist upon themselves, but there are a few decent songs here. Regardless, you might as well buckle up because this album will be inescapable.
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I'M DOING IT AGAIN BABY! - girl in red
◇ genres: pop rock, indie pop
I haven’t been the biggest fan of girl in red over the years. Her songwriting is mediocre and uninteresting on pretty much every level, at least to my ears. Despite that, I still decided to give I’M DOING IT AGAIN BABY! a fair shot, maybe she would wow me this time! That was not the case. If anything, this record is somehow a step further down from her already middling previous material. She dives pretty heavily into this overly confident pop rock and this sound shows off her weaknesses more than her bedroom pop stuff. There are some bad moments on the record for sure, one being the opener “I’m Back” which falls flat on its face despite the earnestness and the melody sounds like it’s ripped from Eiffel 65’s “Blue (Da Ba Dee),” but most of the album is just painfully uninteresting. She brings the confidence throughout the album, but it’s like a child showing off the crayon drawing they did at school.
“DOING IT AGAIN BABY” sounds like it would fit perfectly in an Old Navy commercial. The lyrics in the chorus are triumphant, but it just feels so disingenuous almost like an obligation. “Phantom Pain” is pretty enjoyable, but I couldn’t see myself going back to it regularly at all. It’s a perfect filler alternative radio track. On the flip side, “Ugly Side” is the kind of alternative radio track that would make me change the station immediately. Something about those bouncy choruses in a lot of the modern alt. hits really just rubs me the wrong way. “★★★★★” closes the album on a weird note and it has this weird glitchy alt-pop sound that clashes strangely with the lyrics about being at the Chelsea Hotel studying music history and the struggles of working in the music “biz.” Strangely, as rough as this track is, I want her to go in this direction more. Please get weird with it, shake things up, and set yourself apart. The final track in a lot of ways delegitimizes a lot of this record talking about “making magnificent trash” and “writing hits at the factory.” I don’t know, it’s an interesting juxtaposition I guess, but it doesn’t save this record from being largely unworthy of your attention.
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Might Delete Later - J. Cole
◇ genres: trap, southern hip hop
I think the concept of a “big 3” of 2010s rap is very silly, especially because of how vast the genre was during that decade and beyond, but few artists are as undeserving of being included in that conversation as J. Cole. Chart success, sure, I guess. However, Cole has consistently been a feckless writer. A sheep in wolf’s clothing. He parades himself as an intellectual, but his pen game doesn’t display that at all. His music is for people who crave the aesthetics of something intelligent but don’t actually hold any meaningful beliefs. Kendrick Lamar made a quick snipe at J. Cole in a diss that was largely about Drake in his feature on “Like That” from the Future & Metro Boomin album from last month. Seemingly in response, Cole drops Might Delete Later, an embarrassing mixtape that in a perfect world should disqualify him from being mentioned alongside his much greater contemporaries.
This tape is full of embarrassing bars and uneventful production. In Cole’s first verse on the first track, “Pricey,” he makes a reference to Rick & Morty and in his second he shouts out Louis Farrakhan which is just so groan-inducing. He proclaims he’s “hungrier than all the newcomers” on the second track “Crocodile Tearz” and I guess confidence is key, but even he has to know that’s not true. He’s sleepwalking his way through this thing. “Pi” has Jermaine delving into transphobia for a cheap punchline and a dig at cancel culture and “tough guys” on the internet. It’s just humiliating. It exposes him as a hack. The only other track worth mentioning is “7 Minute Drill” which is THE Kendrick diss track. How does he fire back at him? He tells him he has great albums, classics even. He tries to insinuate that he’s boring and like ok? He closes out the tape by teasing his next album right after he says that he “can drop two classics right now.” Yeah, sure man. This is a fucking mess. To make matters worse, a few days after the tape’s release Cole apologized for the diss track and says they’re working on removing it from streaming services. Might Delete Later is a hilariously appropriate title. He should delete this now.
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Fireworks & Rollerblades - Benson Boone
◇ genres: adult contemporary, pop rock
My introduction to Benson Boone was through his big TikTok hit “Beautiful Things” which has one of the most horrible pre-choruses in music history. I thought surely this is someone doing a cover of a terrible early 2000s Aerosmith song, but no this is a Boone original! Not long after I was exposed to that song, I learned he had an album on the way. Oh, joy! I’ll be honest, I did a hate listen. I’m the kind of guy who isn’t going to hate on an artist or a project without giving it a fair listen. This one tested me. It was tough to get through. Every boring or wrong decision that could be made in music history is made here. This dude is a little under a year older than me and he’s already stuck making boring adult contemporary, pop-rock schlock. Music for church youth groups. It reeks of label decisions, no artistic freedom to be found. Not saying Boone has any worthwhile ideas, he sounds like a total bore, but this feels like Walmart exclusive colored vinyl pressing bait. “Slow It Down” is one of the worst offenders here. It feels like music written to fit a specific mood rather than music born about genuine emotion. A lot of the album has that feel. “Forever and a Day” is music made for a photo compilation of the bride and groom at a wedding. The lyrics don’t matter, it’s just the feeling. The royalty-free arrangements do nothing to help either. This is just abysmal, my worst nightmare.
The music is so apathetic that it actually made me angry. 49 minutes of some of the most grueling, agonizing music I’ve ever heard. After trudging through this album I felt like I needed to listen to some really abrasive harsh noise to cleanse my palette. Horrible experience. Also baffled at how someone could be a little under a year older than me and decide to make music like this. Have you no ambition whatsoever?
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#month in review#music#2024#rateyourmusic#music review#vampire weekend#st. vincent#nia archives#ritchie#injury reserve#maruja#english teacher#eunuchs#mei semones#still house plants#ugly#maggie rogers#conan gray#justice#girl in red#j. cole#benson boone
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Manufactured Establishment Heel Turn and Outrage
The last blog I touched upon the Trump town hall a little bit but now that a few days have passed, and I have seen the discourse and the half ass analysis from supposed smart people in the “progressive” space has been one of the most infuriating things on the planet. If you hate monitor I say and write, that is like music to your ears to know a mentally ill man is being infuriated, because when “important” people pay attention to your shit even if the general public doesn’t know I exist, they get upset with me pointing out the probabilities of the direction of some of these personalities and I will admit it is disheartening a bit to see people who were respected and seemed principled now find a way to crossover to the side that is winning the narratives, they can promote shit online about how the democrats are scared and they are trying to suppress shit so no other candidate can get a chance, but if they didn’t want us to know about this, this would not be out there, in my personal opinion, if I look at this world like a sports entertainment company and see how it is implemented into the political discourse, more people get recruited into this system and become a lot more mentally unwell, they are addicted to the need to entertain, they are addicted to trying to stay relevant in any way possible that they will become soulless caricatures trying to insist their brand of comedic banter between mediocre hosts is what is gonna do it in the long run. The way I view this sports entertainment system is that there are people who own their respective countries, and then book the politicians who are more sports entertainers now more so than politicians, and if the bookers and owners are essentially right wing, and the system by default is a right wing trajectory system with different world champions, baby faces and heels, establishment baby faces and heels, they will book a supposed babyface to say some good shit and maybe try to do some good shit, but the company will still have you pump out heel tendencies that we are supposed to blindly forget but then the “cynical” right wing types will call out an establishment guy or gal and think the other bought off politician and public figure is the one pointing at the truth about the system, so automatically he or she is seen as the heel who the establishment supposedly hates, but you constantly hear about them, they are constantly being used to make a lot of fucking money even though they reflect what the system really wants, but we think because we are online and pointing out the obvious errors and the dumbed down shit, we think we are actually thinking for ourselves. The longer a lot of you want to pretend the online shit is just as mainstream as the MSM itself, the better we will be but people don’t want that, they want more people to suffer and continue to get worse, whether it is powerless cogs in the system to have piled on abuse mentally or physically or whether it is to cross over to the elitist side where your mental illness will be protected because you are around other mentally ill powerful people who are so rich and powerful, but their healing will never happen and they will get worse and make other people’s lives worse because they refuse to admit what they are. I never seen so many people who have made it and become a lot more rich still have such anger issues, they can organize a fucking cult to make things worse. Like I have said, eventually everyone eventually throws on an NWO shirt, only to be a background player to Hulk Hogan, sure you will stand there in glee as he pretends to play his title belt like a fucking guitar. So we have to now pretend the internet is an underground as it was in the 90’s, even though I have always felt the internet was created for the purpose of building a new mainstream, and maybe there were genuine opinions and ideas being expressed but in 2023 those days are long and gone and now everyone is a character and everyone has aspirations to just be characters. You will have a click and a cult that will tell you everything you are doing is hilarious and super interesting and then they will try to dominate the algorithm to pump your name up because it will get some kind of social currency. People think because the establishment does obvious shit, that is more on the democratic side when most of these dumbed down democrats are either falling on its face on purpose because they know it is inevitable for the world to turn into something we would’ve never thought possible, and it will be faction warfare, or they actually want the right wing heel to stand tall, and make it seem like it is only fair to hear Trump. It is a hack position to point out that he would’ve done the town hall somewhere else. You know what is the most disgusting shit on the planet and I know the people I am talking about are reading this because they are mentally ill mafia like people who don’t care about the people agreeing with them because that is how it is supposed to be, someone like me who is kind of pointing out how these supposed progressives have wasted everyone’s time and basically created “progressives” to then prostitute yourself to fucking invite Donald Trump on your fucking show. You know what are a soulless piece of shit, and because you can’t deal with the fact that you will no longer be a genuine human, and that any praise and stock on the rise for you will only be manufactured because you are going along with the right leaning side because you want to be protected and be a showbiz personality since the artform has been going to the right wing and it has always had right leaning fundamentalist shit in it, but now seeping into the world of politics where everything is a fucking reality show angle and everything is meant to be exploited. We have fucking mentally ill social climbers already coming up with discourse and culture wars incase Jamie Foxx dies, then it turns out he is fine and these were rumors, then they will take us on a rollercoaster and then it turns out it was a lie that he was okay, the system do this on purpose while people will pretend that random people are making up rumors, the system are the ones always in charge with what narratives are put out there, again just a personal opinion, but seeing how discourse plays out so other studio audience members can try to be part of the cast has been one of the most prostitute things on this planet. How will anyone get better if becoming “successful” in the world means you have to become this caricature that no one will really respect, you will be surrounded by other soulless ghouls who are gonna do the system’s biddings but be careful what you wish for because they will turn you into a storyline and recruit other social climbers to discredit you, if some of these online personalities can barely handle being thought leaders with limited pushback, you are gonna break down when you make it big.
So let me say this, this whole CNN establishment heel turn is like if John Cena turned heel officially, like people always knew there were heel tendencies that existed but now we needed an official storyline way to get there, And because the MSM have given you the impression that they hated Trump and are disgusted by him the last several years, and a bunch of political shit head analysts dumbed down Trump and generalized regular people for so long and pushed them more to the right, but they get credit for shitty Trump impressions and pointing out his obvious errors he makes so we can all laugh at him being an idiot but still thinking that some of his rhetoric has been dangerous in the most cartoonish way. But it always felt like the way these people were “anti Trump” was such a hacky and dumbed down way and purposefully ignoring the corruption on the democratic side which made a bunch of propped up accounts talk about how it is easy to go after Trump but you need to go after democrats, but it is actually easy to go after democrats because a lot of the ones who get traction are basically closet republican shit but because people fall for the sports entertainment of them opposing Trump, so people think pointing out these obvious errors that are there by design, means they are actually calling shit out, because it is basically like “OH MY GOD THE DEMOCRATS ARE FUCKING UP SO I AM GONNA PRETEND I AGREE WITH SOME MAGA SHIT HEADS WHO ARE TALKIING ABOUT POLICY AND EASE MY AUDIENCE TO ACCEPT A FAR RIGHT PERSON BY EASING THEM INTO THINKING THEY ARE NOT SO BAD” and this is not a defense of the democrats, but this 90’s reboot of our society has people actually thinking that this “indepedent” and “internet” opinion is where the genuine opinions are, when it has become part of the internet. So I didn’t buy that this sudden outrage from people about Trump being given a platform officially to make it seem like “it’s fair” when it hasn’t been fucking fair from the default. It has always been right leaning and now this was CNN officially embracing the current fascist ideals of where the world is going and even though people are now being concerned too late after he got all the stream, and has been allowed to function, those people are doing it for self preservation because whatever happens in the future and Trump will be the face of it, it will show in the history books that people did warn about this but they did it in such a way where they ignored people’s valid points about previous ideology they were espousing and the other war criminals they gave a pass to. So this was a sports entertainment heel turn for CNN and even the fact that people like TYT will act like “Oh my god he is the leading candidate, we have to listen to him” but a lot of you mother fuckers are guilty for promoting him while pretending you opposed them, you will claim not to be the establishment, but your fucking opinions are really establishment, if I knew a lot of you would end up becoming another shitty cog, I would’ve pointed out how uncharismatic a lot of you were in but because there was some genuine truth telling, I figured that is all that matters but now you are uncharismatic and taken the easy route to protect your image and relevancy and you think because you make the most half ass analysis about shit that it means you are supposed to be a thought leader and then because you can’t admit you have been frauds the entire time, you do the typical trope of a heel promo and do the “YOU PEOPLE MADE ME DO THIS, YOU MADE LEAVE THE LEFT” not because the far right wing billionaires are wagging big time money so you become another shitty personality that are a dime and dozen. Their excuse was “Well if they censor Trump, they will censor progressives” quite the Jimmy Dore level take, when they have been censoring and fucking over actual left leaning people and suppressing their voice, which you never hear as much about, you know who I hear about being suppressed all the time? The propped up figures who get nonstop air time and talked about all the time, these people who pretend they are promoting villains to want them to get theirs and pay for their crimes, you know from the get they won’t get theirs, you can keep teasing it. But you know it is basically to promote who are gonna be the talking heads in the future. Pretending Trump wasn’t already promoted for the purpose of making a lot of fucking money and social currency, you already have shown me that you are not someone who should ever be trusted. This is why sports entertainment is the most dangerous thing on the planet, you will support people who pretend they oppose the desired villain so you are still rooting for someone who probably has sex with that same villain behind the fucking scenes. But a lot of you crossing over can’t even admit you are joining the fascist side, you are so fucking cowardly about it, you have to convince yourself you are only doing the logical thing and that’s why someone like Ana Kasparian can do stories where she talked about how people were incited to do violent shit from listening to other content creators, and normally just making it an issue about “well are celebs who are regular people and play by regular rules, do they have the a responsibility of what they are putting out there, I think not, no one can force you to do anything” but if you assume that a lot of the system is a mafia system, and these propped up public figures have their own cults that are given incentive to do shit, and I have experienced it with the Stern Show people, who have instilled paranoia and talked about my demise and my death, and even monitor my thoughts and move my cursor to show they have some presence, but when someone like Ana/Cenk cover these stories, they now are of the belief of the charisma vacuum Libs of TikTok is not responsible for what people do, and it is fittinig because Ana is still butt hurt over being yelled at for her bad faith argument in a time where bills are being passed to fuck up that community, now she can basically give up her morals and principles and basically act like these people don’t have responsibility and they are just regular people and the reason I feel that Cenk/Ana and other shit heads they have created in the media space, is because a lot of the shit they report is basically kayfabed news essentially and they would be held responsible for shit they have organized and the ruse they have created, they want to do all the mentally ill things but don’t have the balls to face up to it. When you constantly talk about how your show is the only one that is keeping it real, then expect people to call you out on your subtle cowardly pivot to the right wing so you guys can be shitty celebrities who will never truly be funny but you want a cult to actually think you are even if none of it will be genuine. Your kids and family will grow up to hate you. They will claim shit like “Wouldn’t it be funny if Trump incriminates himself even more, and we can dunk on it” people have been dunking on it for the last several years, it hasn’t worked and you are now acting like “oh my god they are really scared of him” if they were really scared of him, we would’ve never heard of him to begin with. No one at CNN is outraged about this, this was just a way for them to justify why they had to embrace him. A lot of you know what you have purposefully helped amplify and use your “anti war” persona, as a way that people will think you are more credible, and would think any criticism of you would mean that it means they are pro establishment.
This political world comes off like they booked Donald Trump to be MAGA Steve Austin, and if that is true, then I could believe the system booked Tucker Carlson as MAGA CM Punk. See this is why the snooty higher society political types will look down on wrestling because if everyone watched wrestling and could see the elements. It feels like they have trained you to think that, because a lot of wrestling fans bought into CM Punk who might have some genuine good nature to him, but since a lot of people who hype him up are more right leaning and the entertainment seeps into political shit now, it feels like the perfect place to practice this kind of shit in this artform and even with online shit, that you can manipulate people into buying into someone’s anti establishment persona despite putting over other problematic billionaires, or normalizing more edge lord like shit in the 2010’s to cater to only conspiracy people, and this is how you get guys like Tucker Carlson to come out and people will agree with his truths on some level, despite being someone who is allowed to prosper in other areas because we think that it means he is against the played out legacy establishment institutions. Not realizing they are training you into accepting someone else who wants to have power and be the only one who benefits from it. These people want to become a religion. They want to be worshipped, Trump was like an Austin because he just give everyone stunners all the time even if it was not good storytelling at times, but we all think because it was an unpredictable time with so much intensity and vitriol being put out there under the guise of anti establishment, when eventually Trump will reveal he will shake hands with whoever the Vince McMahon in this situation is. We pretend because the system says they are against them and trying to destroy them and this person comes out looking stronger at this rate, you gotta wonder if this is all being done by design and we are just filling space until we get to the climax. But basically people will excuse the behavior now and now it feels like these insiders know the dems won’t do shit, so now out of desperation people in the “left” space will give the bare minimum respect for someone calling out corporate media when most shit is probably corporate media, nothing wrong with calling out the corporate media, but I have never seen this much of a push to call them out in 2023 because by now we all know they are corrupt, and even when it is called out, it is limited and over the last decade, they have let the far right look like they are the ones in the right, and this is why they look anti establishment to their base, they made up “wokeness” and had people with bad faith acting making so sensational and over the top that people think they are being told to do shit and not to do shit and when you do that, people push back, all you gotta say is you can’t even make fun of Muslims and people will believe it, like they are not bombing the fuck out of those countries. They can push back against anything and they still feel like heroes to their side and because cynical people have not trusted the system etc, they gravitate toward Trump and let their guard down. Even people on the let side falling for the obvious sports entertainment in MAGA people hating a Trump appointee person who happened to be on the WEF, which to me feels like these people are on the same side but if MAGA people hate products and certain people, then it automatically means the dems will embrace it more, like Bill Gates is an enemy of the right wing but if I believe Gates is a villain, the right can only call him out for being associated with liberals. So it feels like even hating these people is a reality show and at a given notice when shit hits the fan, everyone will find a way to sell out. So it is amazing to me that people that think “Okay we need to have Trump on because the leftists will have a chance and it will fuck them over” yet when it comes to Trump’s victim who is being smeared by the funded accounts online, and Trump himself, so even if you don’t think his victim is as pure because she is aligned with democrats then people don’t care as much but why wouldn’t that argument of if Trump does this to her he could do it to people who are even more powerless. The way a lot of you worship your mentally ill weirdos who are rich and wealthy and then pretend you hate them is some next level sickness, and when they trot out rape and abuse cases for public consumption and it turns into another reality show, they are gonna gimmick up the story a bit where it doesn’t come off as genuine, but since we need to make public figures and their predicaments relatable to how regular people go through shit, because to me, in these situations there are people who are initiated by taking abuse, there are those that are in initiated in giving it, the people who I feel end up giving it, are ones who dealt with it in the first place but instead of getting better and making sure that doesn’t happen, we keep the cycle of abuse going. Tara Reade is another one who will be discredited even if what she went through was real, but I do feel like the only reason some embrace her in the space because in order for her trauma to be acknowledged, she would have to align with the new right leaning type. But people who think Biden wouldn’t have done that in the past are kidding themselves, I am not saying I know for sure but if I feel every high level person in the system had to go through fraternity initiations of doing dirt so they can succeed, then yeah I can believe most people have and I know that is a conclusion I am jumping to, but at the same time, I have seen the pattern of the last 15 years of more and more abuse being revealed and it turns into a intended shit show and we are all front row, I have no idea why I just quoted a Lil Wayne lyric from Uproar, but regardless it fucking rings true. But when I focus on TYT as my main example for shit, it is not to just specify them but the circles around their show and who has ended up leaving and becoming worse and now it feels like this has always been the con, even if they love to think they are just like regular people when they have been apart of the establishment, you can tell with their cookie cutter personalities where they are auditioning for these MSM gigs and then the MSM will suddenly not be so compromised because we have commentary and impressions from Cenk. Watching wrestling and seeing how they have trained you to see the world a certain way, it has become one of the most useful entertainment tools as well as comedy because everything has to be levitated by what is considered comedy. I am watching John Mulaney’s special that everyone praised because of what he went through, and I applaud him but in deeper ways because now that he has all the genuine comedy out of the way, he will be reduced to an Artie Lange or Jeff Hardy, where there is gonna be constant investment in his fuck ups until his standup becomes a really sad show, because it will be less about his comedy material, but more about that persona, Artie’s stand up was never really the best, it is impossible, because he is on a radio show 4-5 days a week exhausting all of his humor and people won’t hear every joke he makes with that much shit, how can someone in that enviroment really be good with their stand up. So Artie was a good concept for the powers to be to work that shit on. Now I see it with other comedians now. Most personalities are defined by their social media role, like Janelle Monae, who is one of the most talented and sexiest women on the planet, normally she has been kind of reserved but now she has become a social media character where she has to cater to the horny on main, I don’t mind seeing her fucking titties on my timeline, I am not gonna complain, but since everyone’s storyline arc has twists and turns, will it be revealed she was pressured to do it and then we will be made to feel bad for enjoying seeing her titties. Sometimes I think in order to make it stand out, there has to be a lot of manufactured controversy because both sides of the argument in some ways come off as fundamentalists, one side dictating how sexy and liberated one could feel, and the other side who pretends they are for liberation, are just regressive assholes who will only cosign talent if they are promoting sex. So if she wants to do it, I support it, but if she doesn’t and can’t say and we find out about it years later, then yeah I am right to be skeptical because of the constant gaslighting the discourse writers are with manipulating mentally ill people online. I am all over the fucking map because my mind is going in different directions, this is why I don’t consider myself a “writer” by traditional standards, I am too lazy to learn the rules but I want to run amok with run on sentences.
I just hate this idea that they are presenting Trump like they are afraid to beat him when they are not even being booked to be allowed to beat him, it looks like they are trying because you think “leaks” online mean that they really didn’t want you to see the information, when it is designed as an excuse for why a narrative changes. This is why the internet has been useful in helping manufacturing consent because everyone on it wants to pretend these conversations were just some random interactions and exchanging of ideas, and sure everyone starts that way but the more they are entrenched into this fucking world, they are being recruited through the internet and now it is at an all time level now. And it has given an excuse for people who pretended they pushed back against him, are acting like they want us to hear from him again because we need to stop him, but they know the bookers who write this shit can’t write good guy characters properly, they end up always disappointing people. So this manufactured outrage is not really outrage, it was for self preservation to show there was a warning there, and people who constantly make excuses because they oppose the “democrats” they will keep letting the far right slide and they will be the same people who will be on the equivalency of what people pushed back against with shitting on people who normalized the war on terror. That is the reality and I don’t think some of you can handle it, and because you can’t tell your audience you have sold out, you are snapping at the people and being uplifted by very far right wing accounts. Keep saying the “MSM HATES US” even though you have the same views as Anderson Cooper on this Trump shit. And I bet you any money when TYT does get Trump to show up on their panel, people really buy into the “Oh my god why would MSM like figure like Trump go on some random independent show” it is because it is not as independent as you think it is and I personally believe there has been under the table funding going on, but beware when people get outraged by TYT having Trump on their show, they are gonna act like “No we will push back” but they will get steamrolled, they might get him on a couple of things etc, but ultimately he will seem like a decent guy to their audience. They already got one of the more decent people on that show Wasny to kind of be used as a tool over this Jordan Neely story about how no elites ride the trains and people there are scared, and I am not doubting people are scared of the fear mongering is going on, but I feel this craziness is funded by billionaires, they have mentally ill people at this disposal that can be given incentive to act out so it makes people get scared so then they don’t mind the normalized execution of mentally ill and homeless people, but you are presenting this in a reality show way where they are gonna profit off this trial, and instead of saying “They are funding this kind of behavior” they are left to both sides the situation. TYT knew it would be bad optics for them to go negative on this storyline, hence why they have kept Ana Kasparian away from it, but Cenk is already trying to both sides this thing and people opposing him will be limited which makes their side look like they are just screaming about racism and executions for no reason when this could’ve been a situation where it was innocent and there was no harmful intent, but if you are a conspiratorial person like me, you think that these kinds of sacrifices are put out there to manufacture consent, and now you have TYT using someone who is from New York, and someone who happens to be black to basically kind of shutdown the people who are claiming this was an execution, and to me it is another example of them pretending that this stuff is not orchestrated with sports entertainment, which has real life consequences, so they can pretend they are judging this shit fairly and it is really disgusting, we already seen people do this with the Kyle Rittenhouse shit and now this will be another part where more “progressives” start shifting to the right wing and it is fucking scary but we are lessened by this threat because everyone partaking in it has to become a fucking sports entertainment comedy figure and it doesn’t matter if the lies you are telling are gonna get people fucking killed, as long as people enjoyed your fucking comedic banter. Cenk is even going as far as now to say he thinks it should be mandatory to serve the military for a year after high school, he is normalizing himself going back to his republican roots. People like that would see my blog and statements like a punch in the face, but these people are literally normalizing their heel personas and if you call them out on it they will think they are the victims in this because on the surface they would have you believe that people are just getting mad at a “simple opinion” when it is more about they don’t want people to get mad they are gonna align with fascists. I really don’t care if they kill me at this point. The system has already converted anyone I know into elitist behavior, and I feel I am the asshole and unclassy one, like I have been told, because I am not elitist persona, people who can insert themselves into my life, making sure I don’t have my own friends or my own group so I am surrounded by leeches who only use me for a limited gathering while I am not good enough to be at their elitist affairs, and that is fine, it is just this notion that people think they go to “classy” events and look nice, and have this nuclear family aesthetic, thinking they are classier than me is hilarious since they will all get worse mentally and they will eventually alienate people in their lives, they don’t know how to be themselves, they all take on characters. Why would I want to be here. Maybe it is a death wish, the Stern trolls will put out messages how what is happening to my distant uncle in Pakistan, Imran Khan, will be what ends up happening to me, even if it is not true, but instilling paranoia in a mentally ill man so he snaps is very sick, why would I want to be living on this planet with these kinds of people. When the system limits who you can talk to, people like me then have to find other forms of consumption onine to see if there is anyone who is gonna keep it real about shit but most people have to limit their shit even if they are doing good things, it shows me that you will eventually have to do evil and that is why you present the call outs so limited, because then it would mean the whole system will have to be overhauled. Anyways, this blog really went off the rails, per usual but what else would you expect from me?
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ahhh the au i didn't know i need it until i saw your vision !! there is sooo much to unpack here, it has everything; ronald redemption arc, the lasting effects of past abuse, the small acts of rebellion that build a new life, earnest romance and being so horny it makes him a little bit stupid heehee
and also just this au in itself, giving corey a second chance, him ending up slap bang in the middle of the scene and learning as he goes, finding out he's not unlikable the way he thought he was, but that he can actually belong somewhere and live a life that he enjoys.
He liked Ronald well enough... But it was certainly news to him that Ronald might think of him as a son.
i love your interpretation of ronald !! i feel like his and corey's relationship is amicable but not particularly close ("he married my mom and lives in our house but he doesn't snitch on me for smoking at work"). corey internalises a lot of that without realising -- a replacement father figure who doesn't really care about him, learning from that that he's going to have to save himself and work his own way out. when the accident completely stalls corey's life, and he's no longer making the effort himself, which literally brings everything to a halt, it sort of highlights how much he had been doing. maybe that's what makes ronald realise if he can just do something, it can put corey back on his own, selfmade track at least, even if not in the direction he'd been expecting pre-accident. i think ronald actually making that choice not only helps corey (in that he can leave, but also restores just a little bit of lost faith) but also resolves a part of ronald that maybe knows he should of done more, sooner?
“You’re really for real?” He whispered.
this feels like a coreyism but i can't put my finger on why (repetition again? the unusual phrasing?). the way he whispers it -- i can absolutely hear his voice -- it feels like he really got to a point where he just didn't trust that there was anyway to get out of the pit he was in.
another month after that for him to be emotionally ready too. But Halloween was coming, and he’d be damned if he spent another Halloween in fucking Haddonfield.
the way he could leave but there's still a part of him that's holding on. how things at home are mind-numbingly boring or infuriatingly controlled, but he's safe and "protected" and there's something to fall back on. the outside world is scary and new and he'd be on his own (truly on his own). it's a risk, but it's a risk worth taking because if he doesn't do it now he never will.
i love how you write his apprehension, the way it lingers in all of his actions, how it unpins a lot of what he does but he still does things anyway because he knows there's a better life out there. knows it as well as he knows his own name.
a permanent reminder that his life is his, not hers.
yes, yes, yes !! give that boy some autonomy !! i love this, it really is the small things that make all the difference. i think about it a lot but i think corey really struggles with feeling in control, so i totally agree that physical reminders end up being really important to him (especially when it's on his body).
You like the way he struggles to tell when you’re joking... how he has his own offbeat sense of humor that you’re slowly learning
my favourite corey trait, how he is doesn't always catch jokes (he's just like me fr lol) but is actually really sharp with his own humour.
the way he casually brings up complicated, niche knowledge without ever sounding condescending.
he's so clever 💗 you totally get him though, it's a certain brand of cleverness where he's clever for the joy of it, for how it feels to know things and have that as a skill he can depend on. he values knowing things and learning and stimulating his brain, but he's never, ever condescending or elitist about it. i would literally listen to him talk about something he's knowledgeable on all day and not get bored lol
he enforces the rule against crowd killing with an iron fist
literally the way i would feel so safe knowing corey is around. i've said before but i totally think people underestimate him because he's pretty mild mannered most of the time but people learn veryyy quickly not to push his rules because he is not fucking about.
Somehow your thighs sticking together in the humid air feels much more intimate than any of that.
sharing space in such a casual, familiar way is the peak of intamacy. just being comfortable and eating pizza together. who could ever say romance is dead?
He steps into the shower with his hands clasped in front of his crotch. His modesty is adorable. On his end he’s not sure which would be worse, shrinkage from the cold air, or chub before anything has even happened.
he's such a sweetheart. i think we all know he has nothing to be ashamed of though 🫣 but at the same time his self conscious streak kind of drives me wild because it's like you are the hottest man i've ever laid eyes on, how can you not know that ?? 😂🥰 but then also shrinkage seems like such a mundane thing for him to worry about, when we're used to him fight for his life through the trauma trenches most of the time - i don't want him to worry, but worrying over normal things really highlights the fact he's just some dude in his 20s trying to get laid lol (and you strike that balance for him so well, so consistently !!)
(but also, something something, he has a really weird sense of his own boundaries and privacy, compares with how he perceives boundaries and privacy for other people. are so skewed. i feel like part of his modesty is to protect reader's boundaries more than his own in a way - he's used to putting up with things he doesn't like but because there was never any communication about that, he's constantly concerned about crossing other invisible boundaries that he assumes must be there)
“Curation makes the collection.”
curation makes the collection !! corey learning that he does, in fact, have personal taste that says something about him 💗 wait - corey figuring things out about himself through looking at his tattoos, spotting the common themes and ideas behind them.
The last traces of Corey’s rough mood from earlier in the night flow down the drain with the soapy water. All he’s thinking about is you.
it's not quite sulky corey, but his bad mood being lifted by reader and actually realising that he can be content 🥰 but also corey who has so many thoughts in his head that he uses affection to override all of that and clear his mind (head empty; no thoughts, only sex) lol
his boner resting on your belly is making you want him too badly
i am anna's hopeless lack of dignity. idk why but this got me like deep down lol your wording is so simple but there's something so vulnerable about it. he can't be subtle, it's so obvious what reader does to him, a giant arrow pointing to the fact that he wants reader just as bad as she wants him.
He’s desperate for more, anything more, whatever you’ll give him.
you know corey so well 😈💗 corey is a take-what-he-can-get guy, through and through. i love this line so much though, i feel like it says so much outside of sex too, like he's really so used to thinking no one wants him, that he clings to the smallest things in case he never gets anything else. but he also gives everything as long as you're willing to let him give.
You feel so good around him, he’s scared he won’t last five seconds if he moves the way he wants to
okay i am so deeply madly obsessed with this whole smut scene. another "just some guy" moment, but baby don't even worry about it, we can just go again lol 😈😂
you balance the dom/sub aspect so well !! -- not overplayed but impossible to miss. it feels like we're encapsulated in this litttle bubble where there's nothing else outside of what is happening. it feels hushed and loud, gentle and messy, familiar and intense, all at the same time. and it's so corey !! the noises he makes, the point he has to stop (or slow down, at least), how he's so willing and reluctant at the same time.
Spend the Night
post-accident!alt!Corey Cunningham x alt!fem!Reader It's been a while since Corey left Haddonfield. He's making a new life in a new town, with a job as a bouncer at a bar that puts on punk and metal shows, living with Craigslist roommates. His past still haunts him, but maybe you can help him forget about it for a couple of hours. contents - smut (18+ MDNI), angst, mentions of past abuse, not-quite-friends to lovers, casual sex, handjob, PiV, subby Corey and slightly domme Reader 5,176 words requested by @ethanhoewke 💕 inspired by these tweets she sent me, and this post I made a couple months back. see my drawing of bouncer!Corey here. @rebel-blue @heartrot666 @wolvesandvampires @multifandom--mess @toxicanonymity @cordelium @hersweetrevenge
Corey leans against the stool in the doorway of the bar, half sitting, half standing, a far away look on his face. When he’d clocked in, the bartenders had been watching some ridiculous action movie with a title like Shoot Bastard or something on mute on the TV above the bar. Shoot Bastard-esque movies remind Corey of Ronald, and thinking of Ron inevitably leads to thinking about Momma. Corey knows he shouldn’t give a shit what happened after he left – how Momma had handled it, how harshly she punished Ron, if she cried, if she misses him – but any little thing can send him down that rabbit hole. Even after all this time, all it takes is 10 seconds of straight to DVD bullshit out of the corner of his eye.
One day, coming up on two years ago now, Ron called Corey into his office. Corey assumed he was in trouble. Earlier in the week he’d had a fight with Joan just as he was about to leave for work. He was so upset when he first got to the garage that he accidentally let all the oil out of a car that had already been given a full oil change. But that wasn’t what Ron wanted to talk about.
“You gotta leave, kid,” he began. “You gotta get out of here. I know I’m not your dad, but I care about you like you’re my son, and I can’t sit around and watch what she does to you, what everybody does to you, anymore. You’re a good kid. You deserve a normal life.”
“Okay…” Corey said, not sure what to make of the declaration. He liked Ronald well enough, was thankful for the job and the distraction for Momma that Ron provided. But it was certainly news to him that Ronald might think of him as a son.
Ronald, for his part, wasn’t exactly lying. He did hate the way most people treated Corey, and he did feel a familial fondness for the quiet teenage boy who had grown into a fine young man in front of him over the past nine years. He was, however, having a moment. He was about to unveil his master plan to get Corey out of Haddonfield, for good. Ever since his divorce from his first wife, he’d felt small and ineffectual, winding up with a second wife who treated him like shit, largely because it’s what he felt he deserved. Doing this was as much about saving himself as saving Corey.
“I know your mother has access to your bank account,” Ron said, laying out the plan he’d worked so hard to devise. “So I want you to go to a different bank and open a new account there. I’m gonna start paying you twice. We’ll keep your direct deposit where she expects it to be. You use that check the way you always do, buy your snacks, put some in savings, don’t do anything that would make her suspicious. But I’m gonna give you a second check. Put that one in your new account, save the whole thing. We’ll do that for a while, until you have enough money to disappear.”
“Is that legal?” Corey asked.
“Christ, kid. Do you even wanna leave?”
“Yeah, sorry, I uh… I just don’t want any more legal trouble. For any of us.”
Ron deflated, his moment punctured by feelings of sadness for his pathetic step-son, and guilt for not doing more sooner.
“Don’t worry,” he assured Corey. “It’s all above board. I’m giving everybody raises cause the shop’s been doing so well. You’re just gettin’ the biggest one.”
Corey stood there dumbfounded for a moment. Ronald didn’t exactly obey Momma, but he was usually very careful about the ways he defied her. Helping Corey escape would probably end their marriage if she ever found out. While Corey had never understood what Ronald saw in Momma (or what Momma saw in Ron), he struggled to believe Ronald would jeopardize his relationship with her that way.
“You’re really for real?” He whispered.
“I’m really for real. Now, don’t tell me when you’re leaving or where you plan on going. Just buy a bus ticket when you feel like you have enough money and get out of here. And when you go, leave the card for the bank account she watches. We both know if she can see where you are, she might follow you.”
It took Corey three months of getting two paychecks to feel like he was financially ready to leave town, and another month after that for him to be emotionally ready too. But Halloween was coming, and he’d be damned if he spent another Halloween in fucking Haddonfield. So one chilly October morning he convinced Momma to leave for her errands before he left for work, promising he was right behind her, since he knew she hated it when he was home alone. Then he shoved as much of his wardrobe as he could fit into his backpack. He put his phone and the debit card Momma monitored on his dresser, emptied both of his savings accounts, and boarded a Greyhound bus headed west.
Corey looks down at his freckled thighs below the tattered hem of his cut-off shorts, his bare legs decorated with tattoos under wispy red hair. He doesn’t have to wonder how Momma would feel about those. She made it very clear that in her opinion tattoos were only for sailors and convicts (Which had his father been? Corey wondered but never asked). He’d always thought they were cool, always wanted to have as many as he could find space for. He got his first as soon as he could after he got away. It grounds him a little to see them whenever he looks down, a permanent reminder that his life is his, not hers.
A familiar voice brings him out of his thoughts.
“Helloooo. Earth to Corey.” It’s you, standing in front of him with a folded five dollar bill between your fingers and a concerned look on your face. “You good?” You ask him.
“Yeah, sorry,” he says as he puts your money in the cash box. He stamps the back of your hand and waits for you to head inside, but you don’t.
“So, I had to park like, super far away. Would you mind walking me to my car after the show?” It’s not something you would ask just any bouncer at just any bar, but Corey is your favorite bouncer at your favorite bar. You’ve had a little crush on him for ages, dying to get even 10 minutes alone with him. If he won’t make the move, it’s time you did.
“Oh, uh, sure. Of course.”
“You’re the best,” you say, reaching out to squeeze his arm. Then you go through the door and into the bar.
You spend the whole show distracted, thinking more about Corey than about the musicians playing their hearts out on stage. You remember the first night he worked the door. You could tell he was new from a distance, which intrigued you, and as his features came into focus as you drew nearer, you only became more interested. The new guy was a hottie. It had been winter then, so his tattoos were hidden from you, and his hair was a rich, warm brown. The weather warmed and Corey's clothes got less bulky, the hems on the sleeves of his shirts and the legs of his pants steadily rising with the temperatures, giving you a delicious view of his strong limbs. The seasons have progressed, and his hair has gotten longer, full of coppery strands brought out by the sun. It’s like every time you see him he’s better looking than the last. Tonight is no exception.
But his looks aren’t the only thing you like about Corey. When you go outside during changeover on nights he works the door, you shoot the shit with him. You like how his voice exists in the space between raspy and smooth, an accent you can’t quite place peeking through on certain words. You like the way he struggles to tell when you’re joking, but he’s always a good sport about the miscommunication, and how he has his own offbeat sense of humor that you’re slowly learning to watch for. You like his crooked smile, and the way he casually brings up complicated, niche knowledge without ever sounding condescending.
The nights Corey works inside, you feel extra safe knowing he’s watching over you. Sometimes he appears at your side with a plastic cup of water, yelling “Stay hydrated!” in your ear over the music. He checks on you when you fall in the pit, and he enforces the rule against crowd killing with an iron fist, dragging dudes who think it’s cool to windmill out to the sidewalk by their shirt collars. If another showgoer is bothering you, all you have to do is meet Corey’s eyes and you know he’ll take care of the problem.
You didn’t park so far away with the intention of getting him to walk you there, but after circling the block three times and seeing no nearby spots, you had no choice. You weren’t particularly scared to walk the distance, but you’d seen Corey as you drove past, Chicago Bears cap backwards over his gorgeous hair, pack of cigs tucked into the rolled up sleeve of his t-shirt, biceps bulging from the way his arms were crossed, and a lightbulb clicked on in your head. You practically sprinted to the door from your parking spot.
Outside on his stool, Corey’s still in a weird mood. He’s had his eye on you for months, and he’s pretty sure you’re interested in him too. Even so, he’s petrified to make a move. He favors you over the other patrons whenever you’re there, and he knows his coworkers notice, but it’s the only thing he can think to do to get closer to you. And his insecurities around dating just bring him right back to Momma. She fucking did this to him. Her refusal to let him have any normal interactions as a kid meant he still couldn’t as a grown-ass man. It’s like getting away from her only made her more present in his life.
He’s trying to remember what his therapist said about negative thoughts moving through without getting stuck. Thinking them and feeling them and then just letting them drift away. They can come over to hang out, but they can't spend the night. Corey wants to be someone you would let spend the night, and he thinks he could be, if he could just fucking relax for 30 goddamn seconds.
And it isn’t helping that you haven’t come outside once tonight. The reason is that you’re just as anxious as you are excited, thinking of ways to angle the walk to your car into something more, just like he is. But he doesn’t know that. So he sulks on his stool and hopes the thoughts will be done passing through before the last band plays their last song.
When the closing act does finish up, you’re the first person out the door, appearing by his side before the reverb of the final notes even stops echoing.
“Hey,” Corey says, “I usually have to stay for like, 15 minutes after the show ends, then I can walk you to your car.” Add something to let her know you want to hang out, he thinks, but he doesn’t say anything else.
“Okay, no problem,” you say.
You stand off to the side and chat with friends until his shift is over. He takes the cashbox and the stool inside, and then he’s keeping pace with you down a quiet side street towards your car. A light breeze cools the sweat on your neck from dancing and you shiver. Corey comes just a little closer, knowing he runs hot, hoping he can subtly warm you with his radiant heat without you noticing. He’s not slick at all, but it’s endearing. You drift nearer to him too, so close you would barely need to reach out to lace your fingers with his.
“So. Where do you park?” You ask. “I can drive you to your car, since you walked me.”
“Oh, I walk to work. I don’t live far.”
“Oh, okay. I can drive you home, then.” You wait a beat to see if he’ll ask to hang out. You can sense that he wants to, but as you turn the corner and your little sedan comes into view, you decide it’s up to you. “Actually, I’m really hungry. Why don’t we go get something to eat?”
“Yeah?” Corey smiles. “I’m starving.”
You take Corey to a little shack of a New York style pizza place, where you eat giant slices on a rickety bench leaned against the side of the building. A window AC unit drips onto one half of the seat, so you sit with your bodies pressed together.
You and Corey have had a lot of physical contact since you met. He’s stamped the back of your hand a hundred times. He’s hooked his elbows under your armpits to hoist you off the floor, caught you over his brawny shoulder when you run out of crowd to surf, gently cleaned and stuck a bandaid over a scrape from the studs on someone else’s jacket. Somehow your thighs sticking together in the humid air feels much more intimate than any of that.
The proximity makes Corey’s heart pound in his throat. This close to you he can see the fine glitter you dusted over your skin before you left the house, and the little half-open holes dotting your face from piercings you’ve retired. He does his best to hold his voice steady and not think about the conniption Momma would have if she could see him with a painted harlot practically sitting in his lap. The negative thoughts can’t spend the night, he reminds himself. But he still wants to.
“It’s getting late,” he says when you’ve been sitting there talking and holding onto your grease-stained paper plates for what feels like hours. “Are you… Um. Do you need to get up early? Tomorrow?”
“No, I have a free day tomorrow. No plans, no responsibilities. I’ll probably be horizontal all day,” you say, laughing. You phrased it that way on purpose and you can see it working as Corey swallows hard and tries not to get distracted by the mental image of you lounging around in a tank top and panties.
“I’m free tomorrow too, and I’m not tired. We could hang out more, somewhere else?”
“I’d love to. Do you have somewhere in mind? I think most places are probably closing right about now.”
“Oh, uh…” Corey responds lamely.
The obvious answer hangs between you for a moment. You wait, daring him to say it first. You’d been dying to spend 10 minutes alone with Corey, and taking the lead tonight has gotten you that and so much more. You could quit while you’re ahead, adopt an oh well, maybe next time attitude. Or you could finish what you started.
“If you want, we can –”
“What if we –”
You both try at the same time.
“No, you –”
“I’m sorry, you –”
Corey’s embarrassed, but you giggle, a sweet sound that immediately makes him feel better. He laughs with you. You point at yourself, then at him, then at yourself, an exaggerated look of questioning on your face. He laughs at that too, pointing emphatically at you.
“If you want,” you start again, “we can go back to my place?”
You live by yourself in a little studio. You unlock the door and reach inside to turn a lamp on, before swinging it wide and pulling Corey inside. He takes his hat off, his large hand fluffing out the dent in his hair, and looks around for somewhere to set it down. His first impression as his eyes wander is how similar to his own apartment yours is – how you’ve had to work around the eccentricities of the building, how so much of your furniture would be instantly recognizable to anyone who's seen a recent IKEA catalog, how your mattress and box spring rest directly on the ground.
Momma (ugh there she is again) always kept the house spotless, with strict adherence to her ugly-but-well-defined aesthetic, taking meticulous care of the heavy wooden furniture she made Corey’s father buy before Corey was born. While living somewhere that hasn’t been fossilized for 25+ years is a much needed change of pace, he’s often embarrassed by the disheveled way he and his roommates keep things, cringing whenever they bring a friend or partner over for the first time. He was grateful that you suggested your place, but seeing the way your rooms reflect his destroys that insecurity and makes him feel right at home.
You’re still holding his wrist from pulling him inside, and you use it to guide him on a “tour” of your tiny space.
“This is the living room,” you say. Then you drag him one foot to the right. “And over here is the bedroom.” Corey laughs as you rotate him 90 degrees. “Enormous, state of the art chef’s kitchen.” You gesture toward the rickety old range and skinny half-sized dishwasher. You pull him down the hallway and into the bathroom. “And here we have the sauna and spa.”
“Wow, it’s just like a big mansion from a movie,” Corey says.
“They’ve actually filmed like, 100 movies here,” you joke. You reach behind you and turn the water on in the bathtub. “I’m gonna wash off real quick, you know how gross it can be in the pit.”
“Oh, uh, okay.” He turns to leave but you wrap your fingers around his wrist again.
“You don’t have to go. You can sit on the toilet and keep me company. Or you could join me.”
Corey opens and closes his mouth in surprise, shaking his head, floundering. “Join you?”
“If you want.” You shrug, pretending to be nonchalant.
“No. Yeah. I mean. It would be great to join you, I just wasn’t expecting that.”
You pull the pin to switch the water from the faucet to the showerhead. “Do you want to check the temperature?”
You switch places with him and he leans over the edge of the tub to stick his hand in the stream. He considers it for a second. While he’s distracted, you start taking your clothes off. You’re down to just your bralette and panties when he turns back around.
“I think that’s… good,” he says, the end of his sentence strangled by the sight of you in your underwear.
You smile sweetly as you peel the bralette off and raise it over your head. Corey gawks. “Are you gonna shower with your clothes on?” You ask.
“Oh,” Corey says with a nervous chuckle, setting his glasses and his hat on the vanity. He tries (and mostly fails) not to stare at your breasts as he pulls his shirt over his head. He loosens his laces to slip out of his boots, yanks off his socks, and undoes his belt. His face feels hot, which he knows means it’s red. He clears his throat and drops his shorts, then he turns around to give both of you some privacy for the last step.
When his shirt comes off, it takes your breath away. You knew Corey was a thick boy, and kinda heavily tattooed, but you were not at all prepared for the sight that met you as he started to strip. The true breadth of his shoulders, the size of his traps, the soft definition of his abs, and lines of his hips pointing right where you want to be, all accentuated by his tattoos, way more of them than you were expecting. If he could keep his eyes off your tits, he might’ve noticed you were staring at him too.
He steps into the shower with his hands clasped in front of his crotch. His modesty is adorable. On his end he’s not sure which would be worse, shrinkage from the cold air, or chub before anything has even happened. Either way it seems best to keep things obscured and fix his eyes on the drain as you step into the tub and close the curtain.
“You don’t have to hide. I’ve seen a dick before,” you say gently, as if reading his thoughts. “And you don’t have to avert your gaze.”
Corey looks up from the floor of the shower, meeting your eyes. You give him an encouraging smile and he chuckles, dropping his hands. “Okay.”
The temptation to look down immediately and see what he was hiding is strong, but you manage to keep your eyes on his face. You duck out of the shower stream to let him get wet, flipping the top of your body wash and squeezing some out. You gesture with the bottle to Corey and he offers you his hand, palm up. You dispense a little dollop for him.
“You have more tattoos than I thought you would. How long has it taken you to get so covered?”
“Like a year and a half?”
“Holy shit, Speed Racer!” You laugh, and he fucking giggles. He’s so cute you could die. Between your legs, your clit starts to throb.
“I uh, had to wait a long time to start getting tattooed. Kinda thought it would never happen. So I’m going a little crazy, trying to catch up.”
“That’s actually so cool. I’m glad you get to make that happen.” You finally let your eyes drift down, studying his tattoos through the bubbles on his skin, using your hand like a squeegee to get a better look at a few of them, and to have an excuse to touch him. They’re all American Traditional – faithful to the rules, truly old school, Sailor Jerry levels of traditional – but you can pick out the hands of several different artists. They’re all packed extremely solid, the colors vibrant and smooth under his freckled pink skin. You get a decent glimpse of his penis while you check out the tats on his stomach. It makes a very good first impression, although if he’s much of a grower you might be in for a challenge. “They’re beautiful, Corey. You have really good taste.”
He shakes his head, denying the compliment. “It’s all flash from a walk-in shop.”
“But you picked the shop.” You slide your soapy hands back up his torso to squeeze his shoulders. “And you picked the designs off the wall.” You squeeze again. “Curation makes the collection.”
“I guess I’ve never thought of it like that,” he says.
You stand there like that for a minute, your hands on his shoulders, looking into each other's eyes. You’ve never seen him in decent lighting before, and you’re learning that he has the longest eyelashes in the world, and his eyes are the color of good iced tea, but staring at him is only making you thirstier. You drape your wrists over his shoulders and rest your forearms on his chest. He puts his hands on your hips. You slowly drift closer to each other as if pulled by magnets. The last traces of Corey’s rough mood from earlier in the night flow down the drain with the soapy water. All he’s thinking about is you.
You can feel him starting to get hard, the tip of his cock poking you in the thigh, higher and higher until you lean away enough for it to reach its full height. You lean back in closer than you were before, wrapping your arms all the way around his neck. Finally he kisses you.
It’s soft at first, his plush lips feather light against yours. But his boner resting on your belly is making you want him too badly to abide by that for long. You press in harder, and he returns the pressure. You open your mouth more, and he follows your lead. Your tongues slide against each other and he sighs into your mouth. He still tastes just a little like the cigarette he smoked before you left the pizza place. His hands move from your hips, massaging your back and tentatively cupping your ass.
You kiss so long the water starts to get cold. You pull away from him reluctantly, despite your lips already getting chapped, and rinse the few remaining bubbles from your skin. You pull a giant blanket towel from the cabinet and wrap it around both of you. It’s extremely inefficient when it comes to actually drying you off, but you barely care, just using it as an excuse to keep your arms around him.
“That’s dry enough, right?” He asks. He’s so hard it borders on painful. He’s desperate for more, anything more, whatever you’ll give him.
“Yeah, that’s totally dry enough,” you agree, tossing the towel over the curtain rod.
You lead Corey back down the hallway, to the foot of the bed. You crawl up to the head of the bed, wiggling your ass in the air for him as you go. At the head of the bed you lay down and beckon for him. He scrambles to lay down next to you. His lips are so raw that they taste like blood, but he’s insatiable, needing to be kissing you. He pulls you into his arms so that you’re lying on your side, and you drape your top leg over his pelvis. His breathing gets heavier, and he’s dying to rock his hips so that his achy, leaking cock rubs against your impossibly soft thigh, but he doesn’t. He’s not sure if it’s okay, not realizing it’s the whole reason you put your leg where you put it.
If he won’t grind into your thigh, you’ll just have to grind your thigh into him instead. As his length drags across your skin it leaves a hot trail of precum. He shudders beneath you and makes a little strangled sound. It makes your pussy gush. You want to make him whimper, you want to hear him groan and whine and cry.
“Corey,” you purr against his stubbly cheek. “Why are you holding back?”
“I, uh – I don’t really know what I’m supposed to do. Like, what you want me to do.”
“Should I just tell you what to do?”
“Please.”
You kiss him again before giving your first instruction. “Don’t try to be quiet. The walls in this place are really thick, so you don’t have to worry about anybody but me hearing you. But I want to hear everything.”
“Okay,” he whimpers.
You reach your hand down and wrap your fingers around his shaft. He inhales sharply. His satiny skin slides up and down as you gently stroke him. You told him not to be quiet, so he lets out a long moan, surprising himself with how desperate the sound is.
“Does that feel good?” You coo.
“Mhm,” Corey groans.
“Good. Don’t try to be still either, baby. If you want to thrust, thrust.”
And thrust he does, immediately, pressing his hips into your hand hard before dropping them back down to the bed. Your satisfied laugh is music to his ears. He thrusts into your hand again, and again. Faster and faster. You kiss him as you pump his cock in your hand, but he’s too busy whining and panting to kiss you back.
“Fuck,” he gasps. “Stop for a second. Please.”
You release him and bring your hand to your mouth, tasting the mess he made. The sight of you licking his precum off your palm nearly kills him. While he recovers, you pull a condom out of the drawer in your nightstand. You hold it up for him to see, squeezing it so he knows the little air bubble is still inside.
“Can I put this on you?” He nods. He closes his eyes and lets out a long, shaky breath as you roll the condom on. You lay on your back and gesture for him to climb on top of you. “Okay, now come here,” you say.
He kneels between your legs. You hold your arms out to him and he slowly lowers himself into them, planting one wide hand on either side of you. His cock taps against your slit and it makes you both hum.
“I need to feel you inside me,” you whisper.
Corey’s toned arms almost give out. “I need to be inside you,” he agrees in a strained voice.
You guide him to the right spot. With one push he slides all the way in. He’s completely fucking perfect, filling you all the way up. He flexes his hips experimentally, and the smallest little movements cause him to make the prettiest little whines. You feel so good around him, he’s scared he won’t last five seconds if he moves the way he wants to, but the way you’re looking up at him weakens his will, and he gives in.
Once he starts in earnest, he can’t stop, overtaken with a sense of urgency, needing more, more, more. His face and chest turn bright red. His eyes tear up and he squeezes them closed. The way he pounds you feels fucking incredible, but the sight of him and the sound of his whiny moans getting higher and higher pitched is what makes you truly feral.
“Holy shit, Corey.” You reach up and run your fingers through his hair. “You feel so fucking good. You fill me up just right.”
You feel the effects your words have on him, faltering slightly before fucking you even harder.
“Look at me,” you command. He opens his eyes and you see the tears welling there. You’re worried for a second, but before you can ask if he’s okay, he reassures you.
“I’ve… never… felt this good,” he says between gulping breaths. “I’m really… really close.”
“Oh yeah? You’re close?” Your tone is teasing, but sweet.
“So close,” he barely manages to say, the rhythm of his movements becoming less coherent.
“I want you to cum for me.”
“B-but… but…”
“Don’t fight it. Cum for me, Corey.”
You wrap your legs around his hips and that’s his undoing. He whines your name, muscles trembling, spilling into the condom, a single tear breaching his waterline.
"Oh my god," he says, voice hoarse as he lays back down beside you.
"That good, huh?"
"Mmm," he hums happily.
When he realizes you didn't cum, he's adamant about returning the favor. And you'll let him in the morning, coaching him on exactly how to rub your clit to make you scream, before you take him for breakfast at a greasy little diner and drop him off to a chorus of "Ooooh where were you last night?" from his roommates. But for now you just snuggle into his thick, strong arms, content to spend the night with him.
#corey cunningham#thank you so so so much for your writing !! 💗💗💗#the way you can always keep corey as corey. no matter which situation you drop him into. you get him.#ugh also i'm sorry with my obession with coreyisms -- the struggle is real and i'm making it everyone elses problem heehee#bonus highlights:#i know for a fact that shoot bastard would actually be the greatest film of all time lolol#joan keeping an eye on his bank account#i wonder which was his first tattoo. idk i feel like maybe it was the horse shoe ??#and the fact is collection is all traditional american#cigarettes in his sleeve#how he knows he runs hot !!#all of joan's furniture being from before corey was even born#heehee his craigslist roommates (how many does he have?)#ugh just him being so silly stupid desperate 💗💕💖 my baby. my angel. i want to ruin him
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Thoughts of a former Zuko stan
This may come as a surprise, but I used to be a huge fan of Zuko back when Avatar first aired. To make a long story short, I identified with Zuko's redemption arc and struggles very, very strongly as I was also going through my own sort of redemption at the time. I was devastated when he joined Azula in BSS, because it felt like I was hopeless.
On that note, I also viewed Azula the same way Zuko did, in a way. She represented all the terrible, snobby people who had been tormenting me and lording their power and status over me. While on some level I thought she was cool, I could not really get over how the way she treated others, especially Zuko, reminded me of how I was treated, and so I also kind of hated her.
It has been a long time since then, however. I don't really identify with Zuko anymore, at least not nearly as strongly. I do, however, like Azula now after a long time of just thinking about how my own bias and the show itself made me hate her, and if she really deserved that.
I think it was an entry on TVTropes that described how if Azula was as evil as Ozai, she would not have broken down like she did, because she would not have been so hurt by her friends' betrayals. From there I ended up reading more analyses on Azula's character from her fans, not the ones who just liked her for being a cool, evil badass, but the fans who identified with her on a level I had not, fans who in some way admired her for being such a talented young woman, and how they were saddened by her fall.
And as weird as it is, the artwork in The Search and Smoke and Shadow by Guri Hiru really helped turn me. As troublesome and as badly handed Azula was in the comics, her expressions while she was under stress and hallucinating really got to me. These days, I'm starting to understand the potential mental illnesses I've suffered in secret over the years, and I just can't help but want to see Azula saved from that kind of suffering.
All that said, I'd like to lay out all of what I used to believe about Zuko and Azula when I first watched the show, and how my opinion has changed since.
To sum it all up, I basically saw Azula as having much more agency than she actually had, and I identified too much with Zuko to really see his own flaws. I thought that Zuko was a completely good kid who was only doing bad things because Ozai messed him up, and I assumed Azula was bad all on her own without being influenced by Ozai. I thought that she had Ozai's attention and approval because she was naturally a bad kid, rather than that behavior being fostered by him.
I used to think that Azula's downfall was karmic justice, and meant to contrast with Zuko's growth, but I can't call it karmic if she had little choice. I used to see her pragmatism as another facet of how dangerous she was, rather than as a sign of restraint and a sign she had her own lines she didn't cross. I used to think that Azula needed to be humbled and kicked off her high horse, that she was an elitist snob and Zuko was the everyman underdog that could prove otherwise. I see now that Zuko, while in a tough spot, was still mostly a privileged royal compared to Aang, Katara, and Sokka for most of the series.
I have a lot of specific takes, and maybe I'll list them later as I think of them, but I think you get the idea. I might go through each episode to help me remember what my old opinions were.
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