#gravity falls has barely any big AUs but the ones that are the most popular were made during it's airing

[kraviolis]

you can tell when a show is really fucking good and satisfying when there isnt an insane amount of AUs and most fan content is just expanding or elaborating on or celebrating the canon

[fanfoolishness]

Writer tag game

Tagged by @novantinuum and @infriga! Thank you!

Author Name: @fanfoolishness

Fandom(s) you write for: Steven Universe, Dragon Age, Mass Effect, Bioshock Infinite, Agents of SHIELD, and (barely) Avatar: the Last Airbender

Where you post: AO3, crossposted to tumblr.

Most popular one-shot: On tumblr, and longer than 200-300 words: hurt, written the night of the Steven Universe Future series finale. 

On AO3: searching, a search engine query-based Steven angst bomb.

Most popular multi-chapter: After the Dark, my Mass Effect love letter to the characters after the destruction of the Reapers.  Full of angst and hope and feels.

Favorite story you wrote: Seriously?  You would ask me this question???

They’re all my favorite!  But, let’s pick one at random.... I really loved the format of Selected Records, the story of Phil Coulson’s resurrection told entirely through his medical records.  I don’t know if my veterinary-styled records are really like a human medical record, but I had fun writing it. :)

Story you were nervous to post: Superbia, probably the darkest thing I’ve written, from the POV of Danarius during the ritual he uses to create Fenris’ lyrium tattoos.  I still don’t know how to feel about that one.  If there’s any story I’ve asked myself, should I have written this? it would be this one... it’s pretty damn bleak and I think walks a fine line between showing the horror of what was done without (hopefully) glorifying it. :-/

How do you choose your titles? I pick a word or phrase especially important from the story, or a few-words’ summary of the story, or a favorite song lyric.  Some titles I’m really pleased with and they feel like tiny bits of poetry. Others are just, eh, this works. 

How many of your stories are complete? All but one on AO3 (my post-Trespasser fic with my first Inquisitor).  I just don’t think I’ll ever finish it.  On tumblr, my Charles Xavier x Erik Lensherr zombie AU fic from like TEN YEARS AGO will also remain unfinished, lol.

In progress:

I JUST finished this ATLA fic, Feeding Turtle-Ducks, about Azula finding redemption and spending time with her brother near the end of their lives and it’s super bittersweet and peaceful and please go read it y’all

I have a Connie-POV fic set during Steven’s road trip that I don’t think I’ll finish. It just isn’t coming together.

I still really want to write this Gravity Falls fic about Grunkle Stan and all the feelings I have about him, but am not sure how to wrap it up.�� Came up with some parts I really liked though:

Years went by as they always did, hours and days first, then weeks and months blinking past.  Sometimes whole months would pass without him taking the lantern down into the laboratory.  Other times he was there every night, the lantern flickering low as it burned through its fuel, his hands tracing the six-fingered handprint on the cover, his eyes straining at Ford’s stupid messy handwriting.  Bifocals helped.   He tried not to think about how much the glasses changed him, how much he looked like Ford.  If he did, still. If Ford was still --

No, he didn’t think that way, that was off-limits -- off-limits --

Sometimes his vision would blur despite the stupid bifocals, and he’d jerk them off his face, wiping the glasses dry on his grubby shirt with his hands shaking.  Sometimes he’d still see little splotches on the lenses even after he tried to clean them.  It pissed him off when it happened, and he’d grab the lantern, storm back upstairs, and blast late-night infomercials until he fell asleep in the armchair.

Coming soon:  I don’t know!  No current ideas percolating, the Azula fic was the most recent idea.

Upcoming story you’re most excited to write: I will see where the wind takes me!

Do you accept prompts? Only sporadically when the mood strikes. I’ll usually reblog a prompt list of emotions or settings or characters I’m feeling like digging into, when that happens it’s a free-for-all. Otherwise, if you send one there’s a good chance it will just hang out in the inbox, alas.

Top five favorite authors: This is where I am terrible about writing much more than I read. *facepalm*

No one writes a thoughtful Pearl like @runrundoyourstuff

@honestlyhufflepuff has one of my favorite Jasper voices

@novantinuum brings the feels in everything I’ve read from them :)

@big-ass-magnet is my partner in Hawke x Varric feels

@trulycertain‘s Dragon Age work is A++++++

Special mention: my friend @crisontumblr passed away a few years ago, but her Dragon Age: Origins fic was some of my absolute favorite, as well as her Bioshock 2 stories.

Tagging: Anyone listed above, or anyone who wants to do the meme!

[stereklibrary]

I currently read Gravity’s Got Nothing on You by zosofi and now I’m seriously craving some fake relationship au's. Do you have any recommendations?

Oh, I love this fic! You can find some more under the Fake/Pretend Relationship tag, but I made a list with some of my favorites as well. I also got a new tag page where you can combine tags, if you are looking for something more specific. Enjoy!

Gravity’s Got Nothing on You by zosofi (11/11 | 83,979 | E)

“Three weeks,” Derek says.

“Still don’t want to,” Stiles says.

“I’ll pay you,” Derek says, and that… that has Stiles interested. Alf’s Antique’s may be a great job, but it’s not a high-paying job, and half of Stiles’s tuition is coming from financial aid, so…

“How much,” Stiles asks, “are we talking here? Because I know your family, dude. And it’ll be kind of awkward after.“

“My family thinks you’re some sort of fucking gift to the world,” Derek seethes, like he’s jealous, “they’ll probably be pissed at me when we break it off, so don’t worry about that. Five hundred bucks.”

“A thousand,” Stiles says, because screw ethics. Also, the Hale family is loaded. Derek can deal.

The Hazards (and Benefits) of Channel-Surfing on Friday Nights by herbeautifullie (1/1 | 12,175 | M)

He’s watching TV over the edge of his laptop when Scott brings up the fact that he’s still a lonely loser in his third year of college without a boyfriend which, while being completely true, is really fucking unappreciated. It sparks a desperate need to save what little manhood Stiles has and, before he knows it, he’s blurting, “I totally have a boyfriend, dude. Shows how much you know.”

How was he supposed to know Scott would doubt him? It’s not Stiles’ fault that someone named Derek Hale really exists. It’s also not his fault when his lie grows legs and runs so far he can’t find it until it’s too late – too late and standing right in front of him, gorgeous and annoyed and not at all the person Stiles made him up to be.

Yeah, this could get bad.

Giving Craigslist Thanks by mossqueen (1/1 | 7,466 | T)

“Dude. Your family are like, the nicest people ever and I feel like such a douche bag right now.”

Derek blinked at Stiles through his reflection in the mirror. 

“What.”

“No, seriously, they’re trying so hard to be good to me even though I literally told your vegetarian sister to ‘suck it’ as I bit into a piece of turkey twenty minutes ago. What did they even do to you, man?”

-

Erica jokingly sends Derek a link to a Craigslist ad and Derek actually responds to it.

i love you a latte by kellifer_fic (1/1 | 6,692 | G)

“You… want me to come to your family reunion?”

“Yes.”

“And you’ll come to my best friend’s wedding as…my… date?” Stiles thinks the whole proposition bears repeating.

“Yes,” Derek says again, brows furrowing like he’s starting to regret asking.

Stiles Stilinski, Boyfriend Extraordinaire by MereLoup (4/4 | 14,429 | G)

“Beacon County Sheriff’s Department, this is deputy Mahealani speaking.”

“Oh thank god!”

“Stiles?”

“I, uh, I need some advice.”

“Advice?”

“Yeah. So, hypothetically, say you met your boyfriend’s mother and sister for the first time ever. Completely by accident. In the grocery store. And they convinced you to help them make a dinner to surprise aforementioned boyfriend when he got home after work. What would you do?”

Danny paused, and then, “Stiles, you don’t have a boyfriend.”

“That’s not the point! And I said hypothetically.”

“Stiles…what are you doing right now?”

Stiles never imagined he’d be in Derek’s kitchen cooking a surprise dinner with Derek’s family while they waited for Derek to get home from work.

Partly because their visit was a complete surprise.

But mostly because Stiles didn’t have a boyfriend.

Or even know who Derek was.

But he’d already come this far and Papa didn’t raise no quitter!

Easy Alpha by interropunct (1/1 | 4,602 | T)

Easy A/Teen Wolf AU. Wherein, Derek Hale is the high school hussy, Jackson and Scott really need to learn to use their inside voices. And, contrary to popular belief, everyone is still a virgin.

My World Is Filled With Cheer And You by bleep0bleep (1/1 | 10,832 | T)

“It was a last minute decision. Single parents with children draw attention to themselves in this type of neighborhood, and this department didn’t have a big budget to relocate all the werewolf and werewolf sympathizers that were targeted on this list. We’ve combined a lot of our relocation assignments. It ended up working out that another family, Mr. Stilinski and his son, looked like a good fit for you guys, so you’ll be sharing a home with them for the time being.” Markowski grins at him. “Congratulations! You’re married!”

-

In which Derek and his daughter are displaced just in time for the holidays, matched up with Stiles and his young son in a government protection program.

May I Interest You in an Apology Muffin? by Leslie_Knope (1/1 | 1,478 | T)

“Wait, seriously? Who is it? C’mon, just tell me.”

“Uh…,” Stiles said, buying for time while he looked around as surreptitiously as possible. “That guy over there,” he whispered finally, jerking his chin toward the dark-haired guy three tables over, a guy so hot that Stiles’ only chance with him would most definitely be in an imaginary scenario.

Scott looked over his shoulder at the guy and got that determined glint in his eye that Stiles recognized, just about three seconds too late. Scott was gonna do something that he thought was heroic but was actually dumb.

“Scott!” he hissed, grabbing for his backpack and nearly knocking over their coffee cups in his haste to follow him. “Oh, holy shit.”

can’t be hateful, gotta be grateful by HalfFizzbin (1/1 | 6,260 | T)

“Be cool, Dad, we’ve decided to con Grandma.”

(Or, the one where the Stilinski men drag Derek to Thanksgiving dinner at Grandma’s and she gets the right wrong idea.)

Fake Listed by Hepzheba (1/1 | 8,522 | T)

When Stiles answered the ad about someone needing a fake boy-/girlfriend for a trip to his family home he didn’t know what to expect. First of all, he expected someone ugly, not Derek Hale from his class. And second, he did not expect to fall for Derek or his kind, and somewhat weird, family.

A Cunning Plan by yodasyoyo (17/17 | 32,737 | T)

Stiles has a plan to get Lydia Martin to notice him. Derek is not impressed.

only fools rush in by decideophobia (1/1 | 13,594 | T)

Is it an imaginary date?

No. I met him in a coffee shop.

When?

This morning. It was love on first sight.

Find Me Sitting Poolside by TroubleIWant (1/1 | 14,286 | T)

“Oh, and you’re the Hales!” the host exclaims when Stiles slides the sign-up sheet back. “Or, Hale and Stilinski, I guess. For now.” She gives them a conspiratorial wink. “I have to say, we are just pleased as punch to see an adorable couple like you attending!”

Stiles tosses an arm familiarly around Derek’s shoulders despite all the bags hanging off them, and gives him a squeeze. “I know! We’re pretty much the cutest. Right, honey?” He shoots his Alpha a shit-eating grin.

Derek bares his teeth in what’s probably supposed to be a smile, except that it isn’t, in much the same way that they are supposed to be a couple, but aren’t.

-

To track down a rogue Alpha who’s endangering their pack, Stiles and Derek must go undercover at a Hawaiian couples retreat. Of course, this does mean that the two of them have to fake a relationship well enough to fool their supernatural hosts, or risk getting kicked out. Sharing a bed, hanging out poolside, tracking down a murderous Alpha… should be easy, right?

pretty in tents by kellifer_fic (1/1 | 7,657 | M)

Even though he’s making fun of it, Stiles thinks the whole thing sounds awesome and, like most stuff these days, the experience is going to be totally wasted on Scott.

A Shitty Bar by Callofthemoon (1/1 | 1,417 | NR)

Everyone imagines what their first conversation with their soulmate would be, but Derek still didn’t know how he’d ever respond to “I’ll give you twenty dollars to allow me to pretend to suck your dick and an extra twenty if you pretend that I’m the best you’ve ever had because my douchebag of an ex is in this shitty bar and when I caught him cheating he blamed it on my horrific blowjob skills.”

[deadcactuswalking]

REVIEWING THE CHARTS: 06/02/2021 (Fredo’s Money Can’t Buy Happiness)

This is an odd, scattered week - a slow one thankfully for the day after my birthday - but we do have a bigger album bomb than I expected from Fredo, even if “drivers license” is still at #1 for a fourth week, blocking EDM remixes of sea shanties because of course, it’s the UK after all. Let’s just get back into REVIEWING THE CHARTS.

Rundown

Now, I predicted last week that Fredo would have two songs debut high up on the chart from his most recent album, Money Can’t Buy Happiness, and the pre-release single “Back to Basics” would rise to the top 10. That didn’t exactly happen, as “Back to Basics” actually dropped out of the chart off of the debut for being one of the lowest-performing Fredo tracks, or at least less successful than the three songs that debuted, as that’s all the UK Singles Chart allows. Speaking of drop-outs from the UK Top 75, they’re all mostly inconsequential, made up of recent debuts like “Wellerman” by the Longest Johns and “Bad Boy” by the late Juice WRLD and Young Thug. In terms of notable drop-offs, we do have some arguably premature falls for minor hits, like “champagne problems” by Taylor Swift, “Body” by Megan Thee Stallion, “Lonely” by Justin Bieber and benny blanco, and, finally, “Diamonds” by Sam Smith. This is a slow week outside of the top 40, so we just have some spare oddities to cover outside of the drop-outs. For our fallers, we have “34+35” by Ariana Grande fading its remix boost at #14, “Therefore I Am” by Billie Eilish at #30, “SO DONE” by The Kid Yaoi at #52, “All I Want” by Olivia Rodrigo at #54, “Lo Vas A Olvidar” by Billie Eilish and ROSALÍA at #64 off of the debut and a couple real crashes at the tail-end of the top 75, those being “Holy” by Justin Bieber featuring Chance the Rapper at #71, “WAP” by Cardi B featuring Megan Thee Stallion at #72, “Notorious” by Bugzy Malone featuring Chip at #73 and “Dynamite” by BTS at #75. This may explain the otherwise inexplicable returns for songs that are always clinging onto the back half of the chart, like “Dreams” by Fleetwood Mac at #74, “Perfect” by Ed Sheeran at #70 and, incredibly, “Mr Brightside” by the Killers at #68, the highest it’s been in a while (and that’s a feat considering how long it stays on the damn chart). For gains, we’re really not picking up much traction here. Sure, “Baby Shark” by Pinkfong is back at #73 for some reason, but otherwise we just have middling songs with middling gains, like “Martin & Gina” by Polo G at #61, “Take You Dancing” by Jason Derulo at #59, “Watermelon Sugar” by Harry Styles rebounding to #44, “Your Love (9PM)” by ATB, Topic and A7S making a surprising and scary gain to #42 (and I’ll admit, I’ve warmed up to it quickly), “i miss u” by Jax Jones and Au/Ra clawing back in the top 40 at #39, “Friday” by Riton, Nightcrawlers and Musafa & Hypeman dopamine re-editing itself up to #24 (Please don’t make this a hit) and finally, “Streets” by Doja Cat continuing its rise up to #12. Oh, yeah, and “Skin” by Sabrina Carpenter is down to #41 off of the debut but everyone’s forgotten about that song considering how big “drivers license” still is, so yeah, let’s just get to our new arrivals, because we do have some interesting things to touch on this week.

NEW ARRIVALS

#66 – “Higher” – Clean Bandit featuring iann dior

Produced by Mark Ralph, Grace Chatto and Jack Patterson

Well, they made a song with 24kGoldn, and that was awful, so... I guess it’s Puerto Rican emo-rapper iann dior’s turn. They might as well remix “Mood” while they’re at it. Instead of Mabel filling in for the singing where 24kGoldn couldn’t on “Tick Tock”, however, we have honestly a less charismatic singer in iann dior playing all the parts, without a rap verse to speak of. Okay, so this could work if he just fills in the spot of generic anonymous singer, and it fits exactly within that mold if he wants to, even though that’ll take away any of the character he had – not that any of that character was likeable or interesting, but hey, baby, he is not your dad, so maybe he’ll blend in well with Clean Bandit’s decreasingly unique production. This is a tropical EDM track where iann dior’s non-existent range and raspy, uncaring tone zaps the energy out of the touches of steel drums and orchestral stabs. This drop is nothing more than a vocaloid loop, and a pathetic one at that, with iann dior’s really gross falsetto proving that Auto-Tune can’t really fix bad singing, not that it needed to be proven. The lyrics here are nothing to write home about, wrapping a love song with ocean metaphors probably just so he can say “I’mma get her wet, oh, baby, then slide”... Gross. There’s like zero build-up to this drop at all as well, so there’s no stakes, no climax, and hence not a good EDM track. Come on, Dan Smith of Bastille wrote this, can’t he get the lead vocal? At least it would sound competent.

#63 – “Grown Flex” – Chip featuring Bugzy Malone

Produced by the Fanatix

Ah, my favourite duo. Apparently this is from a Chip album that I didn’t even know existed, thankfully because it’s 21 tracks, over an hour, with two consecutive Young Adz features. “Grown Flex” is another collaboration with Bugzy Malone, probably here because of the video and the sample of iconic UK bass tune “Heartbroken” by T2, one of the most popular songs in that wave of EDM and a pretty damn great song. It has been sampled before by people like DJ Khaled and Drake but no-one’s made a better song, so maybe these formerly feuding Londoners can make a good song with this sample as the base? That isn’t a question actually, but if it was, the answer would be no. They pitch up the (honestly ahead of its time) vocaloid loop, and put an obnoxious UK garage-adjacent drum loop over it that’s barely on beat with all of the chiptune sound effects distracting from Chip’s also off-beat flow. The chorus is really awkward, with him being off-beat and uncredited female vocal backing vocals with entirely different vocal processing coming in and sounding equally janky. This beat isn’t broken inherently, it could work but it’s too shrouded in these two rappers void of personality. Bugzy Malone is here but his rough tone does not work on this beat, regardless of how much he wants to pretend there’s any melody to his drawl with the Auto-Tune and multi-tracking. He’s still somehow the best part though because, yeah, this is just... incredibly awful. The production is onto something by the end with the horns coming in but they immediately fade out and eventually it just abruptly cuts to some pointless chiptune beeping sounds that have been there the whole time but play alone right at the end for no reason. This is aggravating, I know I’m pretty much nit-picking but there’s nothing of substance to pick apart here anyway. This is pure incompetence and a butchering of a good sample... that they should be allowed to use freely, though, by the way. Abolish copyright law.

#62 – “Ride for Me” – B Young

Produced by Mike Spencer and Pacific

Since everyone seems to have forgotten how to actually make music this week, at least we can always count on B Young... okay, no, but at least he’s given up on trying to be a rapper or R&B singer at this point, as a lane of generic guitar-pop probably would work best for the guy’s voice. I mean, we have an acoustic loop here that sounds like it’s jacked straight from a Shawn Mendes demo. At least the incompetence here is charming, with his rougher vocals being a pretty nice contrast from the otherwise kind of ugly mixing, especially on the flat percussion. I do like the lyrics here, as he’s simply love-struck and enjoys the company of this woman, for more than just sex and appearances. He just hopes that things don’t change and the relationship lasts forever. Sure, it’s shallow but it seems genuine. Sure, there’s some drug references and him being pushy to ask her for no make-up, though it does come off as just enjoying her presence instead of any stuck-up preference, especially since he offers his tracksuit and they end up watching some crap Netflix original film. Yeah, this is just a sweet track if nothing else. Since I did do a full song review for his song “Jumanji” years back, I feel a weird sense of almost parenthood for this guy, like I’ve seen him grow and finally he’s made a good song, even if it’s a bit out of his wheel-house. He’s never not been genuine, just only now that’s given him some more likeability, even if it’s just to make a cute love song. He sounds like a good boyfriend, and that’s really the appeal of the song, so, yeah, good job. I’m honestly kind of surprised.

#60 – “Gravity” – Brent Faiyaz and DJ Dahi featuring Tyler, the Creator

Produced by DJ Dahi

This is the most frustrating song I’ve heard this year so far, I’m almost fascinated by it. Before we get into that, I’d like to say that it’s good to see Brent Faiyaz finally debuting a song relatively high, and this is DJ Dahi’s first ever credited UK Singles Chart entry, although he’s produced top 40 hits before for Kendrick Lamar. Faiyaz has been a bubbling artist in R&B for the past few years, and honestly he might have had the most successful career off of the three artists that propelled themselves off of the back of “Crew” with GoldLink and Shy Glizzy. It was a minor hit that ended up producing no rising stars until around five years later, where we have a genuine hit potentially coming from the guy who sung the chorus, of course with some help from Tyler, the Creator. I do think this song is good but owes a lot to that to the production and charisma of our artists, as I can pick this apart way too easily for my taste. This beat is good, with some incredible guitar work from Steve Lacy as he would always deliver, but feels very aimless, especially with the pointless air horns in the background that if anything distract from Brent Faiyaz, who needs room to breathe. I mean, he’s an R&B singer, of course he does. The beat takes certain left turns during the verses that seem like meanders and if it’s not deflating any of its groove for the sake of guitar loops, it’s got this really tense percussion that does not work for the content or performances here, which are both pretty checked-out, especially Tyler, who’s as stiff as always but without any really interesting lyrical moments or a shift of flow. It’s one of his worst verses in my opinion, and he really goes in one ear and out the other with how short it is, which surprises me because of how Tyler usually either steals the show or meshes really well with his collaborators. So, our two performers are mostly checked-out with little to no chemistry, and the beat is awkward and unfitting for the content, which is about them being brought back down to Earth by their loved ones, hence the name, despite their travel habits due to touring – which isn’t a thing that’s happening right now at all, so maybe this’ll be a slow burn hit before it can really resonate. If we listen to these lyrics more closely, we also don’t get the sense that Brent Faiyaz is even likeable here, as we have no reason given for this woman to not feel uncomfortable that he’s paying little attention to her. Instead, Faiyaz just comes off a dismissive ass to this undeserving woman who is reasonably upset at the lack of time spent with him. It’s never made clear that she’s pestering him, so I honestly don’t get how Faiyaz wants to frame this. It doesn’t help that Tyler has the opposite reaction, longing for his partner when he’s on tour instead of feeling annoyed by her, but ultimately with no interplay so this means nothing. Oh, and if the songwriting weren’t janky enough, the chorus is barely catchy and covered in pitch-shifted multi-tracking that takes any of the focus off of Brent Faiyaz, who’s constantly crushed by backing vocals, being pitched down for no reason with unnecessary censor bleeps when they both swear freely at other points in the song. This type of maximalist production works but only when there’s any grandiosity to make it feel warranted, and if there isn’t that, the gunshot percussion is out of place and there ends up being a lot of empty space. There’s nothing smooth about this, and that’s frustrating as you’d expect these three to bring a really relaxed tune with some great 70s soul vibes and... I mean, that’s obviously what they’re going for here, but it is painfully over-produced and ultimately immensely disappointing. I can see people enjoying this a lot but no, this doesn’t work for me at all. Sorry.

#45 – “Dancing on Ice” – Yxng Bane featuring Nafe Smallz and M Huncho

Produced by Don Alfonso and Quincy Tellem

Oh, Jesus Christ, these guys again... and Yxng Bane, I guess. So, you know what the deal is with this UK ‘trap-wave’ type stuff, right? There’s a vaguely interesting synth loop drowned out by cheap percussion and crap bass mastering, as well as awfully processed vocals from everyone involved. They can trade verses, but more often than not don’t say anything that doesn’t embarrass themselves. You get a sense of really toxic masculinity, misogyny and materialism without any charm in their delivery, inflections or wordplay – which is usually non-existent. Here, it’s not any different. Yxng Bane has some good melodic flows – and I really like his line about his Rolex Presidential Watch being discontinued but since he’s “going Donald”, he wears it anyway – but he also threatens... presumably the listener with gay conversion therapy in the first line of the verse, so all good will’s lost. Nafe Smallz sounds better than usual but his nasal flow is still whiny and insufferable, and M Huncho is here to waste time and sound bad doing it, although he’s probably the least worst sounding vocally out of these three clowns. I misread his line about his rucksack being heavy as “nutsack”, and that’s all the positive engagement I could claw out of this. I ask this every time but honestly, who listens to this?

#21 – “Ready” – Fredo featuring Summer Walker

Produced by Mojam

Much like the end of a Morrisons sweet aisle, past this point, it’s all Fredo. Admittedly, I didn’t end up listening to the record but I have heard a select few songs, this being one of them, and I’m not really a fan. I do like the eerie loop but it seems a bit unfitting for a triumphant flex song emphasising a rags-from-riches narrative, especially since the mix really crushes both Fredo and Summer Walker in this blend of boring skittering trap percussion and the ambiance, making her hook impact a lot less. Fredo’s verses are pretty damn heartfelt, I’ll admit, and I really like his lines about pleading with God that he should be let into Heaven. In fact, Fredo’s bars are pretty consistently great, focusing on how his criminal past in the streets of London refuses to escape him despite his efforts to make it out using rap, and by the end, he sounds pretty defeated when he says, “Yeah, I’m lonely, but that’s just a player’s life”. Honestly, for a song that initially builds itself up to be a triumphant flex song, it ends up just being kind of sad, and that’s fine, more fitting for the instrumental but it really makes the hook feel even more out of place. Ah, well, the song’s fine, really, just a blend of ideas that never really stick the landing together.

#18 – “Burner on Deck” – Fredo featuring Pop Smoke and Young Adz

Produced by RicoRunDat and Yoz Beats

Now this is what I want from Fredo. Now, this is posthumous in Pop Smoke’s case but it’s far from an unexpected feature, as whilst this is one of his first UK drill collaborations, Pop Smoke was known for his pioneering of the New York style of London’s grittier, more menacing drill music, and even named Fredo and Young Adz as some of his favourite rappers. Okay, so he had questionable taste – I mean, Young Adz? - but Pop Smoke felt more of a connection between New York and London beyond just instrumentals, with a shared slang, street culture and arguably most importantly, inequality. This is all cited from a Complex interview, by the way, but you can tell even from his music what a great respect he had for British hip-hop, especially considering his main producer, 808 Melo, is from London. The song itself is pretty great too, relying on these spacey synth loops that build up with more eerie keys before finally crashing into an intense drill beat, with all artists sharing the Auto-Tuned hook, but Young Adz probably shining the most in how he plays off of Pop Smoke’s deeper, rich voice with his nasal whine. The lyrics may be generic gunplay and flexing, but the delivery saves it for me, with Fredo enthusiastically shouting out Gorillaz of all people, and the chorus being way smoother than it would usually be for a drill track, as well as being really catchy. Pop Smoke absolutely kills it here, going with his typical stiff, fast-paced flow for a verse that is really short but just as powerful as he usually delivers. You can tell this was made for this track as well from the interplay on the hook and him shouting out Young Adz in his verse. Fredo pretty much completes the second verse by chiming in and showing more of the charm I enjoy from him as he mentions coughing the bar before he coughs for basically an entire bar. It caught me off-guard at full listen and it still leads in perfectly to the oddly-mixed sombre piano that comes in for the final hook. With a better mix – and even then, it kind of works without it – and maybe some extended verses from both London and New York drill artists, this could bang even harder. Maybe for a remix, this beat could bring the best out of Swarmz, DigDat, AJ Tracey, Hardy Caprio, Tion Wayne, Fivio Foreign even... I could go on, this could be a great posse cut. As it is, it’s still pretty damn good, and again, rest in peace to the late Pop Smoke.

#3 – “Money Talks” – Fredo featuring Dave

Produced by Dave

At first, I was surprised this debuted at #3, which seems high for a British rap track, but then I remembered that the last time these guys collaborated on a single it debuted at #1 without an album attached, and it helped that “Funky Friday” is also a great song, admittedly something I didn’t think at the time. It does make perfect sense that this debuts so high, especially since this album was actually executively-produced by Dave, so given these guys’ track records together and alone, I did expect something great, and, well... okay, so instead of a drill beat as this pretty vocal sample would be fit for, as would the flows, we get a lightweight trap beat with odd vocal and bass mixing. Admittedly, the 808 slides here are pretty excellent, but that’s the only shred of intricacy I see here, which is usually commonplace in Dave’s production. There’s also simply not enough consistency or variety here to make it worth the four and a half minutes, with the chorus being awkward if anything. There’s less depth to the rags-to-riches stories here, with Fredo probably giving more commentary than Dave does, which seems odd but fitting for how checked-out Dave is here. There’s just a resounding lack of anything to this song other than a boring beat and performances that could be a lot sharper and interesting. Sure, Dave flexes his technical piano skill by the end but the beat had already run dry by about two extra minutes before that – this could have run through your second verse, Dave, or you could have added a bridge instead of repeating the chorus. I do like some of the lines here that are obviously more personal and introspective, like Fredo’s conflict with the justice system and Dave explaining how he got robbed when he was a child and to cope with the trauma of this, he started toting weapons. I guess the EastEnders reference is funny but it just reminds me of DigDat making a similar cocaine joke with arguably funnier source material on “Guten Tag”. Yeah, this could be a lot better but it’s not offensive and hey, it’s competent at least. I mean, it’s Dave, it won’t be anything less, just a tad disappointing. I mean, come on, “coochie freshly shaven, man’s got expectations”?

Conclusion

This week is so disproportionately male, huh? Ironically as I say that, none of the women represented here – in the form of soulless EDM production and boring guest feature – get Best of the Week, as that’s going to Fredo’s “Burner on Deck” featuring the late Pop Smoke and, yes, Young Adz, with an Honourable Mention to B Young of all people for “Ride for Me”. Worst of the Week will obviously go to Chip and Bugzy Malone for the pathetic “Grown Flex”, with a tied Dishonourable Mention this week going to both “Dancing on Ice” by Yxng Bane featuring Nafe Smallz (for being gross and offensive) and “Higher” by Clean Bandit featuring iann dior (for being remarkably inoffensive). Yeah, Brent Faiyaz and Tyler are safe there but that’s still a fascinatingly bad song, though I don’t think I’ll make any friends with that opinion. Anyway, here’s the top 10 for this week:

Thanks for reading. If you enjoyed and want more of my cacti-branded rambling, follow me on Twitter @cactusinthebank. I can’t make any predictions for next week that aren’t depressing, but we may have to discuss death and politics next episode if a certain song gets renewed traction. Happy times. See you next week!

[letuscomposefanfics]

He Was Mistaken

(Alexander Hamilton x Reader) Words: 2700+ Summary: The Reynolds Pamphlet is his ugliest master pieces. AU: Hamiltime Warning: cheating, angst??, tired writes, cursing!

A woman and a man. The woman and the man. A man, she had known for years, has sunk a blade in between her shoulder blades and the dead center of her back. The once bursting organ that had sang for him, croaked and shriveled up it's once love-filled tune into a ugly screech as the blade had punctured it. A women, who had been victimized by this murderous-like betrayal, sobbed in silence. The children already asleep as the tears fell on the letters. The disgusting pamphlet poured dread and anger in her. Letters filled with a honeymoon faze passion she had experienced before the birth of Phillip. The literatures filled with lust and the desire to see each other. She was mistaken how her husband can only write the most wittiest yet the most curved and passionate pieces of art. A fury that had balled up in hot angry tears. Her tongue barely able to materialize any kinds of words. A year. A year of kissing another, sleeping with another, and spending time with another! She was there in front of him, but he turned and rolled into the arms of another. She was his wife! His God damn wife! Do the vows she wrote to him mean paper and ink to him? Was she just a disposable mistake? She is supposed to take care of him. In sickness and in health! The man she had love has gone rouge. Alexander Hamilton has gone rouge! She wish to scream and yell. He could have came up state with his children and wife! He could have spend time under the stars with her, and under the love of his children and his wife! She always thought her husband was filled with knowledge and pride. He and her had mistaken his sharpness with his pride. A dull man with the pride of a thousand.. The children play outside as she stares at the sky. The sky seemed so low and so limited. Her oldest boy in hand with hers. "Ma, are you okay?" He murmurs as his sister and brother scamper around the beautiful (but now so ugly in her eyes) field. Her baby boy, her oldest baby boy had caught sight of such pamphlet-or so she theorized. She was positive that her baby had read such a hideous thing. Phillip worshipped his father's ground like the loyalist to the king. He would read anything his father composed. Her conscious's fingers yanked her strings. Lie, it says. Phillip clenched onto his mother's hand tighter. "I'm doing just alright, Pippa." She murmured. Her eyes grey and dead as she etched the details of the field. He noticed the pitch fall of her voice. "Is this about Pa, Ma? Is this about-about what he did?" Phillip tone was soft and frightened to open up as if his siblings could hear him like a canine. She kept silent. Her saliva sat on the bottom side of her tongue. Her dry lips kept kept them selves shut. "Ma, please answer me." The teen begged as he took his other hand to cover the other side of her sweaty hands. "Ma, please talk. Is this about what Pa did?" Phillip shook her arm. She reminisced a memory of her older son. His eyes were big with innocence, widen by a light that he see's in everyone. His cheeks chubby with babbling curiosity. She cooked a meal from a book of ingredients. Phillip shook her arm frantically,"When's dinner ready, mama?" He questioned. His voice was high pitched and were filled with excitement. "In a minute," She would say to shoo him off, but that never worked. "Daddy said that 'two heads are better than one'!" He squeaks as he scampers over to the seasonings. His small arms belting the containers; Phillip waddled over to the table, and unleash them. "I think that pr-o-verb is from John Hey-wad?" He mumbles as his pinched onto his chin. The women chuckled at his expression. "John Heywood?" "Yeah that guy!" Phillip cheered as he jumped,"Mama, you are so smart! No wonder daddy loves you!" That made his mother smile. Tears began to rush down. Gravity pulling them down, but for her it felt like it was dragging her down. Her heart began to eat the insides of her The older women's stomach, heavy. Planting her on the damp grass. "Ma, please." He croaked as both of your intertwined hands were near his heart. "Please answer.." As he placed your hand on his forehead. He whimpered as she hadn't materialized any words. Her eyes still in the sky. She thought it was the lowest thing that she could compare her love towards Alexander Hamilton. Now the sky seem so high compare to her feelings towards the bastard of a husband. "I'm fine." She says. The crack of her voice were heard. Her son quietly grew more tears. The feeling of moistures builds up on the back of her hand. Hiccups were erupted from him. Phillip's body shook in emotions making her sank deeper in the black hole. "Ma, you are not fine!" He retorted. The boy was frightened. His father took their name and broke it. A name that was the next shelf for him to reach when it was time to carry on the legacy of a Hamilton. "I'm fine, Phillip." (Y/N) Hamilton said sternly. Her brows tightened together while the tears still fell on to her lap. This was not what she had dreamt of when she married Alexander. Phillip sobbed right next his mother. The water falls of feelings pounded against your back. "Pop, broke you, mama." Mrs. Hamilton, slouched on the edge of the bed. Her sleeping gown held no warmth. The candle next you flickered. It had waved at her as she read the first sent letter. She tried to look in between the lines, but they were tightly locked with lies "I thought I had you for a second..." She rasped with a quiet tone. "But, you never latched on with me." My Dear Ms. Schuyler, It has been a few days since the ball ended. The sunset creates a beautiful array of purples, oranges, and blues. The lilac section of the sky has gripped onto my brain. It reminds me of something, but I can not remember at this moment. Perhaps, I'll remeber at the end of the letter. When you receive this letter it has been a week or so since I have sent out my pool of emotions that I have been swimming in for days on end. Excitement has sprung in me every time I hear your name- sadly, it wasn't you nor was the subject. Despite how popular you are Ms. Schuyler, you never had popped up in the fields of conversations I had been strangled with. I have sculpted this letter with a pen that I wish would never run short with ink, so I could plant words that will grow in your head; every curve in each 'R' is cupid's arrow twisting it's way into my heart. It plunges so deep that I could feel the feathers tickle me with bliss. Is this how affection towards a (Y/N) Schuyler feels like? A feeling of Shakespeare's world feelings. So deep and so confusing, but so elegant? Knowing that Cupid is behind you and me, I hope it has pierced you with a pleasurable and joyous flame in your heart as soon you get this letter. For as I, the feeling has only blossomed even more the first time I had laid my eyes on you. This burning feeling will never happen with another, but only with you. As I write this letter, the stars seem to climb through heavens window. They are bright and filled with dancing energy that keep themselves up at night. The energy that the stars contain, consume me and my being as you talked to me that night. Though this letter has been etched with needle-fine details of my emotions towards you, my hand and brain could never write out my desire and interest towards you, Ms. Schuyler. So, I would like to show you on the 17th of this month in the evening where the sun climbs down and the stars awake. I heard the stars are bright that night if not I heard the lake is beautiful. If not, I know if I look at you, every star and lake would be jealous of your beauty and graces. In addition, the reason why I stared at the sun like a chest full of gold is because the dress you had elegantly fitted reminisced the color of the ball of flame. From yours, Alexander Hamilton She has repeatedly read the letter over and over again. He had only gripped onto her and called her his. His poetry only tripped Mrs. Hamilton into a pit of his mockery. Her family rooted with money, money he desires to have ever since he was a child. She had fell into his sad stories and his charms. She provided children and her love towards a man who she thought gave back that love! Mrs. Hamilton growled as she yanked the candle holder from the table while she slammed the now crumpled paper on the night stand. She stomped over to the miniature chest of (suppose) love letters. The stacks of papers were barely wrinkles. They now held tears as she stared down at them. She used to delicately touch these letters from her husband. But now, all she cares about is his faux love towards her, that was once contained with care and secrecy from the children, to become obliterated from this sheet of reality she drowned in. Mrs. Hamilton frantically clenched all of the letter with her hands. She crumpled and teared them apart. The sounds of angry tears from her old letters has satisfied her. The wife of Alexander Hamilton had frantically thrown the articles of letters into the fire pit. Her arms growing sore as she threw the papers aggressively. Mrs. Hamilton yelled out in frustration as she did the deed. Her anger and sadness only growing more. Some of the papers missing the target. Plucking the papers off of the floor, she angrily threw them where they belonged. The silver candle holder shined brighter than usual. The fire still waved at her as she glared at it. The candle holder was a gift from her mother as a wedding gift. She dumped the candle on top of the pile of now useless letters. She could hear the door knob rattle, and the floor boards creak. The tired woman clenched tighter on the handle of candle holder. "My love, I'm home--" She catapulted the holder at the door with anger and sadness fueling her strength. The woman had noticed the air around her felt swollen as she tried to breath. She huffed with anger. The sierra burn door was now chipped. She roared in frustration as the hot tears burned down her face. Her bastard of a husband peaked and sneaked his way through the door. "You bastard! You fucking bastard of a husband!" She screamed. "I loved you with all of my being! I had made vows! I had created our children!" The wife screeched. She could see the small tears reflecting the light from the fire. "I was patient with you and you decided to bring a woman in our bed!" She huffed and puffed angrily. Her face was masked in warmth. "I told you to take a break and spend time with me! With your children for god sake!" She ranted. "I have married a foolish boy!" The woman spat. "You have cheated on me. We have children, Alexander. Children!" She snapped. She balled up her fist. The woman shook with rage. "Do you want to know what happened when Phillip had found out?" She questioned. "Our first born! Our first son!" Mrs. Hamilton screeched. "He cried! He was frightened!" The women exasperated. He said,'Pop broke you, mama.' and you did Alexander Hamilton." She growled. "You god damn did." "(Y/N)--" "Don't!" She barked. "You have made me miserable! You have made one of your children miserable!" Alexander winced. "But, the worst thing you did.. do you know what the worst thing you did?" He kept silent. The Hamilton boy had stared at the ground. His silver tongue has been cut off. His witty mouth has been tamed by her rage and sorrow. "You had publicly humiliated me and our children! You publicly punished me and our children! Having a year affair with another women was already horrid enough! But to knock on the door of the whole city and to scream your affair! You despise me, Hamilton!" Mrs. Hamilton barked at him. "You have changed your legacy into a shit hole for horses." She growled. "Do you have anything to say to yourself, Alexander?" "It was an act of political sacrifice." He murmurs like a child in scolding. She scoffed, "Sacrifice? Are you ignorant? Are you stupid?" She asked harshly. "You already had wrecked your reputation towards your oldest son, towards the government, which you stand for as the first sex scandal- I think one of your best achievements, and finally you have made a reputation for me. You are just a pathetic man." She ranted. Her palms felt sweaty as she glared at her husband. "What kind of man would say that to his wife? Am I your second choice with your legacy? Do your children go after our legacy?" You screamed. The quiet sat in between them and around their room they shared. "Say nothing to your wife." She mutters under her breath. Mrs. Hamilton swiftly yanked the ring off of her finger. "Take this damn ring." She hissed as she threw at the man. The jet black haired man snatched the ring from the air as she stomped over to the closet- his hands frantically trying not to drop it. "(Y/N), Wait. Love!" Alexander croaked after her. He finally says something, (Y/N) thought to herself. She plucked her suit case from the shelf above. The wife heard scampering,"W-where are you going, (Y/N)?" "I'm leaving. I'm getting away from this damn house." "W-what?" "I thought I made it clear, so you didn't have to say 'what?'." She spat as she walked over to the bed, and slammed the case on the mattress. Alexander figure was shrunken as he watch her snatch her clothing. "P-please don't leave me, (Y/N). I-I can fix this! Please give me another chance!" He begged. (Y/N) ignored his pleads as she stuffed the clothing in her suit case. The fire reflects its colors on the walls of the master bedroom. "(Y/N), please, love. D-don't leave me." He whimpers as he pins her still. His hands cupped with her smaller hands. "I love you! I didn't mean for this to happen!" "If you didn't mean it. It wouldn't happen." She answered as (Y/N) stared down at him. "Please!" He finally sobs. Alexander Hamilton was down on his knees. He looked vulnerable, it had broken her heart. "Don't leave me!" He begs as he bury his face into her hands. "Please." He whispered while pecked the back of her hand- just like he did when they had first met. "Please, I beg of you." He murmurs. Alexander hiccups as he continues to nuzzle with your hand. Pain had stirred and scrapped in your gut as you watched him sob and beg. The feeling made you weak, and it stung while he had pecked kisses on the back of your hand. You stared at him with a blank expression as he glanced up. Hope shined in his eyes as he did, but soon was dulled out by your expression. Alexander sighed. "I'm leaving, Alexander." She states stoically. (Y/N) strolls back to her suit case. She shuts it and pull it down from the bed. (Y/N) lugs the suit case and swings the door open. "Where are you going?" He asked once more. "To my parents." She answers quietly. "What about the kids?" "Haven't you noticed? It's quiet.." She murmurs. " I wouldn't torture them with out arguments." You finally say as you began to walk out of the room. "(Y/N), I'm sorry." "I can't forgive you, Alex. I need time." "I know, but just please keep your ring." "No," You began. "I'm no longer a Hamilton, but a Schuyler. If I ever do forgive you, it would be a gift from the heavens for you. I'm the closest perfect you will ever get. I love you, but it's with less meaning now, Alexander..." She shared with him. "I will drop the kids off every Saturday and Sunday, knowing how busy you are." She added. "I will see you later, my love." She farewelled. Ms. Schuyler had left her husband with a dreadful feeling. Sobs escaped from him as she had left the building. They were silent most of the time, but sometimes he would scream in pain. He felt like crumpled paper. Sorrow hitting him where the Cupid arrow had once shot him. The bed felt cold and he hated it. The fire that burned in his room never helped. Funny how he's the one hurting as well. He is a ignorant and pathetic man. Back when he lived in his home town, he wrote about two women. A women that was sweet and purified and another that was rogue and dirty. Did he really fall into a trap that had its own warning? Was he really that stupid? He, of course, had mistaken the women, who had purities, and took advantage. A two rings in one hand and on the other was on his heart. He was mistaken. — Shit I’m on mobile again