#lyrics in the caption are from hope by ROAR
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MY FRIENDS WILL KEEP ME HONEST ! MY FRIENDS WILL KEEP ME HONEST !
this piece was originally meant for days 4 + 5 of mcsmtober, "character + mob" and "ghost" respectively! I guess it could also be for day 10, "favorite admin", but i'm a little late LOL !! motivation and hurricanes put a pause on things, but it's finally done !!
sketch under the cut!
can you believe this is how it started? me either. i wish i made a timelapse
#mcsm#minecraft story mode#minecraft#romeo mcsm#mcsm romeo#mcsm admin#admin mcsm#fred mcsm#mcsm fred#xara mcsm#mcsm xara#warden minecraft#fanart#others art#my art#digital art#my textbox#fred is part warden and romeo has his fox strawberry !#lyrics in the caption are from hope by ROAR#mcsmtober#kinda!!!!!!! it was made for it but i am late.
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Omg imagine Taylor verse reader and Matty going to see Taylor and getting spotted
YES. also send in some more taylor verse content i am .. feeling inspired. (this is also me pretending they make up after hoax and the initial rumors being spread🙈)
by the time you land in nashville, you’re exhausted. an 11.5 hour shoot on set two days in a row and you were still due back on location on monday. but there was that promise of going to see taylor that made you smile big and push through the sleep deprivation. and while that would often be enough, there’s another motivational factor coming into play: matty. you knew he flew in the night before hoping on the next flight to nashville after one of his many lay overs, all because had had asked you which shows you were going to and had hardly even given you a chance to say both syllables before he was booking a flight to nashville for himself. (anticipating this as the first time you both see each other for real as a couple after hoax and possible make up fic🫠) he was giddy the whole ride there, even giddier as he arrived at the stadium and saw you backstage with taylor in the green room among all your other friends. you see him and your face instantly lights up, and unlike before he’s not shying away from wrapping his arms around you and kissing all over your face, painfully leaving your lips for last. your friends are swooning, knowing fully well how much he had to grovel and pine and beg for you to forgive him. you didn’t make it easy, nor should you have, but it was entertaining to say the least. the show’s about to start and you feel your stomach flip. what if he was about to denounce everything and walk out by himself and ignore you in public again? your thoughts are remedied though by him looping his arm over your shoulder as you walk out. you take the initiative and tangle your fingers with his own, leaning in close to his body. he’s carrying his cup of coffee, also very much sleep deprived and jet lagged, and you’re both just sleepy and swooning. as soon as you step out and begin your walk to the vip box, everyone spots you. there’s a roar in the crowds by you as they realize it’s you and who you’re walking with and you’re both stopped to take some pictures and talk to fans and it makes your heart feel so full. even when you separate, matty still is watching you from the corner of his eye. “they’re so much prettier in person,” a fan murmurs, eyes locked on you with a dazed ocer glaze and matty smiles, nodding as he signs their phone, “i know.” there’s a ton of content of you both throughout the night, specifically a lot of videos of you dancing with phoebe and julien and lucy and matty, but also a lot of hidden moments between you and matty. his arms wrapped around you as you watch your bestie kill it on stage, he’s kissing your cheek and whispering the lyrics in your ear. videos of you both swaying together to the slower songs, and going wild to the more upbeat ones. a lot of the captions saying “he’s so loved up rn” “he’s holding my whole world in his arms 😵💫” “look at how they’re looking at him..” and it’s kind of enough to dispel the taylor rumors, especially when there’s a dark picture that people have lightened up of the two of you stealing a kiss during lover. (you’re both even more sickeningly cute the next day as you introduce matty to gigi)
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Black Silver: Preserving the Essence of Hip-Hop in a Modern Landscape Guys, let’s talk about Black Silver, a name that’s been ringing through the underground hip hop for years now. This guy ain’t just some rapper, this is a legend who’s seen and done everything. He's known as The Navigator or Silver Synth, but he's much more than an emcee—Sterling World Records, he's its CFO. Black Silver was back roaring in 2023 after taking a little time away from the spotlight to prove he’s still got that magic touch. This is his latest project, *Weaponized Alchemy*, hitting stores on November 15th, and you DO want to hear it. He’s teamed up with some serious talent; DJ Obi, Main Flow and El Gant all bring the A game. 'Magnum 88' is incredible and the second single, a killer track, showing that Black Silver hasn't lost his edge and which dropped on November 14th, and listen it's a winner. He’s joined by El Gant and Main Flow, providing a track that’s both classic and fresh. It feels like old school hip hop but made for 2024. It’s what sets Black Silver apart from a lot of other kids who make hip hop: he knows how to straddle the line between respecting where hip hop came from and moving it forward. That in music, experience is your best weapon. He’s a prime example. Age? When you have real skill, that's just a number. Wanting to know more about how this hip-hop veteran keeps reinventing himself? Hang tight, we’re about to explore the Black Silver universe and hear more about his new musical endeavour. Listen to Magnum 88 below https://open.spotify.com/album/6DcxGRPyhnEPDRPYzDMFpe?si=QJKO507rT4Gmpk88rMgCEw Follow Black Silver on Spotify Youtube Instagram What inspired the concept and title of "Magnum 88"? The homie and legendary artist Ras Kass who is also in a group with El Gant suggested the two of us do a record. Magnum 88 is the result. How does this release reflect your artistic growth and evolution? As a veteran Emcee, challenging my writing capabilities with each new piece of art is second nature. What emotions or reactions do you hope listeners experience with "Magnum 88"? The constantly reinventing of an international culture. Boasting that there is no age cap! How did you blend styles to achieve its distinctive atmosphere? The seamless nature of this particular record all happened organically. Some things were just meant to be. When you combine exceptional production with seasoned vocalists you can normally expect a great final product. [caption id="attachment_58012" align="alignnone" width="843"] Dj Obi[/caption] Are there any hidden meanings or symbols in the lyrics or title? Lyricism in Hip-Hop particularly is part of the essence and held close to our hearts. So sometimes it's best to leave the interpretation to the listeners. How do your lyrics reflect your personal experiences or observations? I only speak about what I know. So you don't get a lot of fluff from Black Silver. I'm a straight shooter. Will "Magnum 88" have an accompanying music video or visual campaign? We are considering it now after such a great response from the public since its release a few weeks back. So we will see. Are you working on an album, EP or standalone singles? Magnum 88 is the follow up single after Hood Narrators feat. Kool G Rap. They are both from the Weaponized Alchemy EP which should be available on all DSP's by the time this article is out. What's next for Black Silver? I dropped a full length solo LP, 3 collaborative Ep's & 6 singles in 2024. Expect me to exceed that work ethic in 2025. https://open.spotify.com/artist/0wx3cuWLhMVkPA6dnMjNLd?si=YTF67lY_QbuL24Zsn3ORxg How do you navigate vulnerability and authenticity in your art? My nickname is The Navigator so this isn't an issue for me. I've always dealt with things head on and prioritized from there. How do you envision fans connecting with "Magnum 88"? So far so great! I'm actually ecstatic with the response thus far. Especially without any commercial marketing.
#Interviews#BlackSilver#BlackSilver discography#BlackSilver dropsMagnum88#BlackSilver Magnum88#BlackSilver music#BlackSilver musicalartist#BlackSilver musicalband#BlackSilver newsingle#BlackSilver profile#BlackSilver releasesMagnum88#BlackSilver shareslatestsingleMagnum88#BlackSilver singer#BlackSilver songs#BlackSilver unveilsnewmusictitledMagnum88#BlackSilver videos#BlackSilver withMagnum88#Magnum88#Magnum88albumbyBlackSilver#Magnum88BlackSilver#Magnum88byBlackSilver#Magnum88fromBlackSilver
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Tangerine
Request from @chanandlersstuff: Hi, can I request something from Mgk? As if he's on stage and can't find the reader in the crowd and gets a little scared, stops singing and starts asking his team if they see her and starts looking for her. Give it the ending you want. Thank you💛
Side note for your username, I love it!! Chanandler Bong is my husband’s favorite joke from the show.
Summary: visually impaired reader with synesthesia is separated from her friend at a Machine Gun Kelly concert (Tickets to my Downfall). Colson grows so nervous for her he stops the show to talk over the loud speaker so that she might find her way back by following the colors of his voice.
A/N: so I wrote this before picking a gif and it was a very happy accident that the colors match
The world was always beautiful to (y/n), but that was due to her inability to see what those around her could. She knew she was special from a young age, but she didn’t know how special she truly was until well into her early adult life. At six, she would rifle through her parents’ CDs and records in search for albums with a large variety of instruments playing various parts just so she could see a collection of colors dance her around her. Some of (y/n)’s friends laughed at her when she told them about her ability to see sounds, but one completely understood what (y/n) meant, after all, she could sense the personalities of numbers and letters. As the pair grew up, they learned more about their own forms of synesthesia, but (y/n) grew to be fully dependent upon her chromesthesia after an accident caused her to lose her eyesight.
(Y/N) could feel people crowded around her as a dull blanket of grey enveloped her mind. All she could see was grey under the low roar of people engaged in their own conversations before a small streams of orange and gold twisted together and danced through the air around her. The guitar intro of “title track” caused a smile to curl over her face as her childhood friend linked (y/n)’s arm in hers and the grey blanket became lumpy as the crowd around her began to jump up and down to the beat of the music as the song quickly sped up.
Colson loved performing, but there was something about Tickets to my Downfall that made it even more fun; maybe it was the connection he had with fans, the fact that it was a completely new genre of music, or maybe it was due to the isolation he felt from his fans during the pandemic and now that he was able to perform again, it felt like the first time. He loved watched the crowd’s reaction to each song--the hype that came with the first released single, Bloody Valentine, the tears that were invoked as he sang Play This When I’m Gone, and even the rage-like mosh pit that formed during Can’t Look Back.
Another one of Colson’s favorite things to do during shows was read the signs his fans made. Most of them consisted of sexual propositions, some were the run-of-the-mill, “My name is Kelly too,” signs, but one held by a young woman in standing-only section caught his eye.
Pink and gold swirled together as bursts of indigo extended across the sign from various points where the pink and gold met. It reminded Colson of the smoke that remained in the air after fireworks, but projected on the backdrop of a twilight sky. Faintly, and if he squinted, he could see his lyrics written on the board, “I’m running low on serotonin in these empty moments. I’m having trouble operating without my main component,” along with the caption, “What my blind, synesthetic friend sees!”
(Y/N)’s friend was a gifted artist, and prior to the concert, the pair sat down and made a sign together. They played Nothing Inside on a loop until (y/n)’s friend completed the painting as (y/n) described, with as much detail as she could, what the colors coming from the ending words of the song were--what shades and hues they were, how they moved...what she saw when she heard the song.
When the young woman holding the sign noticed he was looking in her direction, she quickly pointed to the woman beside her whose arm was linked in hers. A smile formed on Colson’s face as he continued to sing through his set, but he made sure to wave at the girl so she could tell her friend. He could see (y/n)’s smiling face as her friend cupped her hands to her ear and told her he had seen the sign, and he smiled in return. She was cute, beautiful even in a girl-next-door kind of way, and he thought it was cool that she’d come out to support him with such an interesting sign. He’d heard about synesthesia before, but never thought someone with it would ever depict his music in an even more beautiful way than he could have imagined. The idea that someone who couldn’t see could see so much more than anyone else baffled him, and he jealously wondered what the rest of his songs looked like to her.
WWIII was a chaotic release of energy, not just for Colson, but for the audience as well. Another small mosh pit had formed early on in the short song, and seemed to escalate until the ending notes, when it stopped all together. The blanket of grey that had been lumpy earlier had turned into mountains shifting around (y/n) due to the forces of an earthquake, and the familiar grasp her friend had on her arm was replaced by the bumping and shoving of other people as she quickly became lost in the darkening grey mass that enveloped her.
“(F/N)! Hello?” (y/n)’s voice tried to pierce through the roar around her as WWIII sent bombshells upon bombshells hurdling at her arms and shoulders as she held her hands, instinctively, up to her face. She tried to focus on the colors nearby, but all she could see was the blue and green coming from the stage as the song built into its the verse before the final chorus. Suddenly, as the air around her became absent of color, and the grey sheet that had been continually moving and shifting around her settled gently down the the surface of the earth. Frightened, but not wanting to bring herself to tears around any number of strangers that could have surrounded her as she clumsily stumbled through the crowd, (y/n) firmly planted her feet into the ground and kept her ears attuned to the forest green voice of her friend.
“Sorry to cut it short, everyone,” Colson said through the microphone as he scanned the audience. He couldn’t help the many times his eyes had drifted back to the hand-painted sign and the beautiful woman who had inspired it, but this time, as his eyes landed on the sign, her gentle face was no where to be found. He had sung through part of the song on instinct as he exchanged concern glances with the woman’s friend, but upon seeing how distraught the friend had become, he cut the band off and turned to security. “Yeah, you’re looking for a woman in a black t-shirt and high-waisted dark blue jeans with her hair half-up and half-down. She’s blind and her friend can’t find her.” He could hear his voice growing even more frantic as he hid the microphone from his lips in hopes that he wouldn’t panic anyone. “Excuse me, girl with the sign with all the colors,” Colson called out and then waved the woman towards the stage. As if the crowd sensed something was wrong, they parted to make a path for the woman their idol was speaking to.
“I don’t know what happened,” (y/n)’s friend said as she continued to look over her shoulder for (y/n), nearly completely oblivious to the fact that Machine Gun Kelly was kneeling on the stage staring her in the face less than three feet away.
“What’s her name?” he asked as he looked at the sign once more.
“(Y/N).”
“And she has synesthesia?” he asked again in a slightly more panicked tone than before.
“Yeah. She can see colors even though she can’t see. Well, she could see before, but now it’s just colors on grey and black. If it’s quiet she can normally find me if I keep talking.” The young woman had begun to babble in the anxiety of losing her friend and Colson could feel his heartbeat hasten. He didn’t want to have someone go missing at one of his shows, and it made him feel even more shitty that it was someone he was actively keeping an eye on--albeit because he couldn’t look away.
“What about me?” the words fell from his mouth faster than they appeared in his head. “Do I have a distinct color?” The young woman nodded and Colson quickly stood to his upright posture and scanned the crowd. “Hey, (y/n),” he called into the microphone and hoped he could gain the woman’s attention. “I know you’re separated from your friend and I’m hoping you can see us. She’s here in the front by the stage, so just come this way and you should be able to find us.”
Bright, bubblegum pink sprouted like jagged vines from where the music had been coming from earlier. On each edge of where (y/n) assumed was the stage had to be two large speakers, because the pink seemed to crawl in curved arches from each speaker only to connect in the center point between the two. As she studied brilliant pink movement against the black backdrop of her vision, her name began to form in the vines as she heard it echo through the air around her. With her arms carefully outstretched, she began to take cautious steps in the direction of the only thing clear enough for her to see, bubblegum pink.
“The security team is headed through the crowd to find you, (y/n), so try and make yourself known.” (Y/N) could hear the deep voice that had rung through her headphones on countless occasions beckoning her to safety as the pink grew more and more brilliant with each word spoken.
“I’m (y/n),” she called out as she frantically waved a hand in the air above her head.
“You’re the person they’re looking for?” A man with a frail, lemon colored voice asked pointedly. (Y/N) nodded quickly in the direction of the voice and tried to reach out for someone to ground her in the moment, so she didn’t feel like she floating through a dark abyss. “Why don’t you just go over there? You’re friend is waiting,” the man questioned and was quickly met with a dumbfounded expression plastered on (y/n)’s face.
“I’d love to, but given the fact that I’m blind, I’m not so sure where ‘over there’ is,” she grumbled impatiently.
“I’m not sure it’s working,” Colson said as he knelt down to speak with (y/n)’s friend once more.
“Sing the sign,” she gasped. “She knows those words inside and out, and they’re always the same each time she hears it.” Colson’s eyebrows furrowed at the suggestion, but seeing as he had no other ideas to help find this woman, he obliged by the request.
“Okay, (y/n), I’m going to try something a little different,” Colson sighed into the microphone before he took another breath and began to slowly sing, “I’m running low on serotonin in these empty moments.”
Suddenly, cascades of gold began to fill the space between the vines of pink spread out across the black canvas in her mind.
“I’m having trouble operating without my main component.”
As the words floated into her ears, the intertwined pink and gold began to form a path from their starting point to where she stood.
“I’m running low on serotonin in these empty moments.”
Bursts of indigo sputtered across the mass of colors on stage and traveled down the pathway to her feet.
“I’m having trouble operating without my main component.” As he repeated the lyrics, he could see a path begin to form as people moved to one side or another to allow a hesitant and cautiously walking young woman to make her way towards him. (Y/N) couldn’t hear the difference in Colson’s voice as he found her face in the crowd and realized she was safe, but she could see it. From the center of the collection of colors, rays of tangerine shot from where Colson stood like the sun. (Y/N) smiled at this new development in the painting before her and she began to walk a little faster towards the sun in the picture of her mind. The smile on her face grew when she felt a hand that was not her friend’s gently grasp hers and lead her behind what felt like a metal barricade, around what she assumed was the stage, and up a couple of steps.
“We’re on the side stage, VIP area,” she heard the forest green of her friend say, but (y/n)’s mind was still locked on the tangerine that refused to disappear. She’d heard the tangerine come from his lips before, but it was always directed at a single person, and no one else. Tangerine was always associated with a genuine, positively influenced emotion coming from one’s voice, and until that moment, in regards to Colson Baker, tangerine was something that was solely associated with Casie.
For the rest of the concert, (y/n) held her tongue between her teeth, listened to the colors swirl through the air, and let them paint a picture of the moment in her mind. With each song came a new collection of colors, but somethings always stayed the same: the black emptiness that she was cursed with, the bubblegum pink of Colson Baker’s natural voice, and the tangerine rays that sprung forth from him in his moments of weakness when he turned around to steal a glance at (y/n).
#colson baker#colson baker fanfiction#colson baker x reader#colson baker fanfic#colson baker fic#mgk#mgk request#mgk x reader#mgk fanfic#mgk fic#mgkfanfiction#machine gun kelly#machine gun kelly fanfiction#machine gun kelly fanfic#machine gun kelly x reader#tickets to my downfall#mgk tickets to my downfall#blind!reader#synesthesia#synesthetic x reader#mgk x blind!reader#mgk x synesthetic!reader#colson baker x blind!reader#colson baker x synesthetic!reader#machine gun kelly x blind!reader#machine gun kelly x synesthetic!reader
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Sea Shanty Group sings bits of their songs according to YouTube’s auto-generated captions
The lyrics their singing here are opened captioned in large font (What the lyrics should be are included below the “Keep Reading”)
Note: the algorithm on this video even gets the wrong lyrics wrong.
youtube
SPANISH LADIES
Farewell and adieu to you, Spanish ladies, Farewell and adieu to you, ladies of Spain; For we have received orders to sail to old England, But we hope in a short time to see you again. cho: We'll rant and we'll roar like true British sailors, We'll rant and we'll roar across the salt seas; Until we strike soundings in the Channel of old England: From Ushant to Scilly 'tis thirty-five leagues.
Now the signal it was made for the Grand Fleet to anchor, All on the Downs that night for to meet; Then stand by your stoppers, see clear your shank-painters, Haul all your clew garnets, stick out tacks and sheets.
--
THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER (original) Oh, the Captain's Daughter -- she's a sight! She'll keep you up in the dead of night. She'll make you weep 'til your eyes turn sore Like many other men before.
_
CROSSING THE BAR
But such a tide as moving seems asleep, Too full for sound or foam, When that which drew from out the boundless deep Turns again home. _
SUGAR IN THE HOLD
The captain's on the quarter deck Scratchin' 'way at his old neck And he cries out, "Heave the larboard lead" Stowing sugar in the hold below
Hey, ho, below, below Stowing sugar in the hold below Hey, ho, below, below Stowing sugar in the hold below in the hold below
_
OFF TO SEA When first I landed in Liverpool, I went upon the spree. With money at last, I spent it fast. I got drunk as drunk could be. And when my money was all gone It was then that I wanted more But a man must be blind to make up his mind To go to sea once more I shipped on board of a whaling barque, we were bound for the Greenland seas Where cold winds blow, through frost and snow, our Jamaica rum would freeze Worse to bear I'd no hard weather gear, as I'd spent all my money ashore It was then that I wished that I was dead and could go to sea no more
_
BANKS OF THE LEE
I will pluck her some roses, some blooming Irish roses I will pluck her some roses, the fairest that ever grew And I'll leave them on the grave of my own true lovely Mary In that cold and silent churchyard where she sleeps 'neath the dew
I loved her very dearly, so true and sincerely There was no one in this wide world I loved better than she Every bush, every bower, every sweet Irish flower Reminds me of my Mary, on the banks of the Lee. _
SAILOR’S PRAYER
Oh Lord above send down a dove With wings as sharp as razors To cut the throats Of them there blokes What sells bad beer to sailors
_
RANDY DANDY OH
Soon we'll be warping her out through the locks Way Hey Roll and go! Where the pretty young girls all come down in flocks. To me rollicking randy dandy, oh! Heave a pawl, oh, heave away, Way Hey Roll and go! The anchor's on board and the cable's all stored To me rollicking randy dandy, oh! We're outward bound for Vallipo Bay Way Hey Roll and go! Get crackin' me lads, it's a Hell of a way To me rollicking randy dandy, oh!
Heave a pawl, oh, heave away, Way Hey Roll and go! The anchor's on board and the cable's all stored To me rollicking randy dandy, oh!
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The Other Day at Hot Topic: Man Crush Thursday
“Caption:” Demyx announces, reading his handiwork from the screen of his phone with the zeal of someone reading a marquee on Broadway blazing with bulbs. “Up-and-coming rockstar, Roxas, rocking his new #TheOrganization swag @a-nobody-named-roxas
...
#ManCrushThursday #RockBand #Music #Keys #Singer #EmoKid #SkaterBoi #SeeYouLaterBoy #[KissyFaceEmoji]”
Roxas blanches. He’s not sure which of the hashtags to take issue with first. Possibly the Avril Lavigne lyrics which Sora had sung to him a thousand times too many when they were in junior high.
Vanitas has no such reservations. “Man Crush Thursday is not a thing,” he objects unhelpfully, straightening a particularly disorganized box of Snickers bars below the counter. He’s crouched close enough to be involved with the conversation, far enough away that he can stay out of what he wants to and look busy while doing it.
“I’m a trendsetter, Vani,” Demyx insists, artfully plumping his elaborate hairstyle.
“Is that what that is…” Vanitas mutters, his trail off a sign he’s remembering his recent decision to try to behave himself.
“Excuse me?” Demyx sounds affronted but the corner of his lip curls up, reassuring Roxas that the David Bowie look-a-like standing before him doesn’t give a shit about Vanitas’ good opinion, or, quite possibly, anyone’s at all.
Vanitas pretends he is too far away to catch this last bit and attempts to look busy with the Twizzlers, so Demyx angles his phone at Roxas again.
“Demyx.” Roxas warns, managing to shift his Organization swag into one arm and, with the other, reaching out to lower Demyx’s phone. He’s afraid of what fresh horrors another five minutes on Instagram will bring. “I don’t think I should be getting my picture posted while I’m at work. From what I’ve seen of Saïx so far, he will fire me and then roast marshmallows over my corpse.”
Already, Roxas can hear the beginnings of the sharp lecture that will no doubt proceed his slow demise.
“That’s what you’re worried about getting fired over?” Vanitas mutters, gesturing at Roxas critically with one of the Snickers bars. “Really?”
Not a word, Roxas is about to bite back, but the sound freezes up in his throat, as Demyx laughs easily and slips his phone out of Roxas’ grip and into an over-large athletic short pocket.
“Relax, boys. Saïx is living that social media free life. It’s like…” Demyx swishes his hand around as if to illustrate that he has no idea what he’s talking about, “a positive mental health thing.”
“I’d like to live a Demyx-free life,” Vanitas tells a box of Sour Patch Kids, as he removes it from the Skittles carton. “As a positive mental health thing.”
Roxas unconsciously reflects that Vanitas is not unlike a Sour Patch Kid. First, he’s sour, then he’s uncomfortably sticky, gooey, and difficult to get off the bottom of your shoe.
Roxas glances to Demyx for a reaction and is, again, a little impressed to find none at all. Roxas thinks he might have to take a page out of his book.
Instead, Demyx’s eyebrows have darted up, one pierced and glinting, and then he’s scrambling to search through the Organization swag bag that Roxas had wrongfully assumed had been fully emptied into his arms.
“Oh no,” Demyx grumbles good naturedly, “Saïx! The stickers!” Finding nothing in the bag, Demyx reaches out and plucks a few of the stickers from Roxas’ hand. “I’m going to need some of these back—for Saïx. He’s a huge The Organization fan, you know…”
Roxas doubts this, judging by Saïx’s reaction to Demyx’s on-the-clock recruitment process, but he already knows better than to express such doubts to Demyx.
As Demyx shuffles through the designs, he tilts his hand to Vanitas, crouching down to retrieve a pair of Bendy and the Ink Machine socks somebody had dropped at check out. “Vani, you want a sticker?”
“What am I, a kid at the dentist’s office?” Vanitas gripes without looking up from his work. “Leave me out of this.”
“And Saïx is out today, right?” Demyx frets, glancing around the store as if the man might be lurking in the shadows of an anime display. Satisfied, he nods to himself. “Guess I’ll have to stick them into his mailbox or run them over to—” “Axel?” Vanitas interrupts, casually straightening from his crouch, and tossing the socks over his shoulder, where they land surprisingly neatly on the checkout counter. He turns to face a mildly surprised Demyx head on.
The store may be close to 80 degrees, but Roxas feels like he’s just stepped under an AC vent roaring full blast.
Vanitas had threatened to get the next employee to come in to confirm that Axel and Saïx are far more than just friendly. And Demyx and Axel seem close, so if he says they are, no jokes, then there can be no doubting it...
But there’s no way…
“Well, yeah,” Demyx’s smile is nervous, twitchy, like it had been when he’d last seen Saïx in person. He flutters the stickers in the air, and one floats to the ground. “I mean, hell, he’s definitely the more approachable of the two.”
“Hey, Demyx…” Vanitas sidles up to his side, movements languid, seamlessly smooth, predatory, and voice even more so, as he wraps an arm around the man’s back and gives it a friendly squeeze. “You and Axel have been friends for a long time, right?” Demyx smiles broader even as his brow furrows, glancing down to Vanitas’ eyes. “Um,” he clears his throat. “Yeah? Yeah, man, he was one of the first people to join The Organization.” He pats Vanitas on the back. “We wouldn’t be a band without him.”
Vanitas nods and removes his arm. “You’re just now finding out Saïx is a fan? He’s been with Axel that whole time, hasn’t he?”
No way I could be this wrong about them…
Roxas bites his bottom lip and watches Demyx carefully.
Because that would mean I was a total prick to Axel.
And he was so nice to me back, that I didn’t even realize it.
“Well,” Demyx relaxes into the gossip and tilts his head, wading through the memories, the flop of his hair while he does it reminding Roxas of a droopy-eared dog, “give or take a few little hiccups. But who hasn’t got those, am I right?” His smile fades as he glances to Vanitas only to find him locking eyes with Roxas. Demyx’s easy tone falters. “Why?”
Hiccups? Roxas’ chest aches like he’s been carrying something simultaneously too heavy and too hot.
Vanitas’ smile is confident, more than a little vindictive.
“You’re… you’re joking.” Roxas’ breath catches, replaying the way he’d insulted Saïx earlier over in his head, and then trying to picture Axel and Saïx together. Polar opposites, but he has to admit, they’d look gorgeous side by side… Tall, muscular, intimidating, hair like fire and ice... And they had been on that dumb orientation video together and… and Axel had kept telling Roxas ‘I help Saïx run his life.’ “You and Axel were just joking. Axel and Saïx aren’t really… together… are they?”
“Why?” Demyx’s good humor drops off entirely now. “Was Axel messing with you?” He rolls his eyes toward the heavens like he’s pleading for Axel’s soul, his hair flopping again. His voice takes on an edge both hard and pleading, “He can be kind of a jerk that way. He just doesn’t even think—” “No.” Roxas shakes his head quickly, and Demyx’s frustration drops off at once, if a bit warily. Out of the corner of his eye, Roxas can see Vanitas’ eyes flitting between the two of them, brown, but he remembers them earlier, flashing gold in the light. This unnerves him all the more as he tries to replay Axel’s words in his head. “No, no, Axel said…”
‘He is smart... successful... built like a tank…’ Axel’s green eyes had flicked playfully, scanning his face, trying to decide if Roxas believed him.
“But… they’re so…” Roxas shakes his head again, feeling his mouth dip open, and hang there. ‘Different’ doesn’t feel like a strong enough word.
‘Well, they say opposites attract…’
Axel’s taunting smile is beginning to take on a new meaning in Roxas’ head, and something in his stomach starts to constrict.
“Hey.” Demyx shakes his head, irritation slipping off, as he shrugs. “Don’t look at me, man. I don’t get it either.”
Roxas stares intently at Demyx for a minute and then cracks a smile. He grew up with Sora, after all, ever the practical joker. And he had heard them joking about Saïx before. He knows it. “You’re all screwing with me, right?”
If it’s true, and Axel tells Saïx what I said about him, I can kiss this job good bye.
Demyx glances at Vanitas who shrugs a shoulder himself, and insists, “I already tried to tell him.”
Demyx’s brow furrows, and he hesitates, head shaking just slightly. He puts on a soft, almost of a smile. “See for yourself, buddy.” Demyx taps at his phone for a few more seconds and then hands it to Roxas.
Roxas has trouble making his fingers wrap around the thing. He hopes Demyx can’t see his arm shaking. His examination of the phone screen is anticlimactic, however. The Instagram search screen is up and Demyx has filled it in, but not yet hit ‘enter.’
“flurryofdancingflames?” Roxas reads, confused. “Is this Axel’s username?”
Demyx forgets his irritation, whether real or feigned, upon hearing this, and claps Roxas on the shoulder. “Yeah, see how his handle is so much awesomer than yours because I came up with it?” At Roxas’ continued confusion, Demyx clarifies, “Originally his account was just to post videos of his fire-dancing.” Vanitas laughs, but it’s not a friendly thing. “Now who’s screwing with Roxas?” “I’m serious! He took most of them down, but I bet I can find at least a couple—” Demyx takes back the phone before Roxas has got up the nerve to press the search button, and in a few seconds, he has a still pulled up. The background is ink black, but Axel’s impossibly lanky silhouette is as unmistakable as the dark gold and amber glint of his hair, even tied off in a knot. His back arches, catlike as he swirls rings, frozen in the frame above his body, the yellow light gleaming off every inch of him not covered with fabric or tattoo. And to top it off, he’s grinning like a sinner straight at the cameraman, and now in this moment, straight at Roxas.
Roxas’ throat feels dry and his heartbeat starts to pick up at a steady pace. “Oh,” says Roxas. Oh.
“Impressive, right? Here.” Demyx taps the screen and a ghostly white arrow appears over the fire dancer. He taps it again and the video begins to play.
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Translating Sanders Sides
Some of you may know, but one of the things I’ve done consistently is writing the Castillian Spanish subtitles for most of the episodes of Sanders Sides by @thatsthat24 and @thejoanglebook. In fact, I’ve written them for all of the episodes that had the option available, “My True Identity” and “Taking on Anxiety with Lilly Singh” are the only two episodes that for some reason don’t have the option activated. Here I’m gonna share how it has been so far my experience translating Sanders Sides.
There’s one frequent misconception about YouTube subtitles. Save for some exceptions, creators don’t usually have the knowledge of all languages in the world, so it’s usually volunteers who write the subtitles in their mother tongues or in languages they know enough of. In my case I started writing them because, even though there were already Spanish subtitles of the generic variant, they usually had, and sorry if the original writers are reading me, several flaws, like misuse of expressions, mistakes in words (I encountered the word “hiss” as “rugido”, when the correct word would have been “bufido” in the case of a cat hiss or “siseo” in the case of a snake hiss, certainly not “roaring” which is the real meaning of “rugido”) or, and this is the only thing I’m clearly against of, things that weren’t even in the original video, like jokes someone made up, fanon commentary, even compliments to Thomas or the characters. I get that we all like these characters and the creators, but that’s not the place to express our love for them, and this is something that Thomas himself has said every once in a while that he doesn’t want to see in the captions and subtitles for his videos.
As YouTube subtitles, once approved and live, are virtually impossible to edit or delete, except by the original creator, my idea was to start writing the Castillian Spanish subtitles for the video, as an alternate version of the translation. The first episode that I translated right after it was released, I remember it as if it was yesterday, even though it was almost three years ago, was “Moving On Part 1″, then I translated all the previous episodes, and after that every episode as soon as it was released.
Writing the translation of an episode takes a lot more time than what anyone could figure out. The YouTube subtitle tool is not the most comfy to work with, even though it does its job. When the subtitles in English are already available, it gives you the times synchronized already with the English subs and you just have to write the translation. That looks as if it saves time, but in Spanish, like many other romantic languages, words are on average much longer than in English, which means that you need more time to read them, so the original times usually have to be readjusted and that takes time. I usually just delete the times altogether and write them all from scratch, it gives me more work, but it saves time in the long term. Not much though, as, on average, it takes several hours for me to write subtitles. The last episode, “Putting Others First”, if we count only the hours I dedicated to write the subtitles, it took me around 20 hours, in several intervals along three days. I’m including in this the several proofreadings I make of the subtitles where I always find typos or mistakes that I need to correct, which makes me watch and rewatch the video like dozens of times. (I’m not perfect and probably I’ve overlooked some typos still, but who hasn’t?) Thank goodness it’s good content and enjoyable to watch again and again, otherwise, the labor would be tedious.
Then there is another problem. I usually translate the text just as it is portrayed on the video. That’s, after all what a translation is expected to be, and it usually is. But there is a problem that arises from time to time. Sometimes, the original doesn’t have a direct translation or, and this is something very common in works like Sanders Sides, full of puns and jokes, the translation kills the joke. In those cases, some translators opt for adding a note between brackets explaining the joke and why the translation doesn’t get it right. I personally don’t like this solution, because it distracts you from the action (you usually have to pause the video to read the note) and most important, because, as I said, it usually happens with puns, and you know what happens when you explain a pun, right? My personal option, and something that translators are indeed encouraged to do as far as I know, is to, when a pun cannot be literally translated for some reason, get the idea that the writer wanted to convey and, being faithful to that idea, create a pun that makes sense in the target language, in my case Spanish.
I’ll explain this with an example of the most difficult piece of dialogue for me to translate in all the episodes I’ve translated of Sanders Sides. It was nothing particularly philosophical or convoluted. It was a piece of dialogue from “Losing My Motivation”. It was when Thomas said “Oh, man, I do do that” and then Patton giggles and says “doodoo”. It looks pretty straightforward... except for the fact that the auxiliary “do” doesn’t have a translation in Spanish, it just doesn’t exist, so the translation of that joke didn’t make any sense and wasn’t funny at all. You literally didn’t understand why was Patton laughing. So I was forced to become creative and my idea was to rewind a bit and get Logan’s previous piece of dialogue, when he was talking about how if Thomas “sits around waiting for inspiration to strike, consistency is unattainable”. I had the idea of using the old expression “kissed by a muse” as a synonym for inspiration, and so I translated into Spanish as “if you sit around waiting for a muse to kiss you, consistency is unattainable”. Then, I made Thomas say, “Oh, man, I do wait for that kiss” and, then instead of the doodoo joke which didn’t make sense in Spanish, I used the similarity between the Spanish for muse, “musa” and the Spanish for walrus, “morsa”, and I made it look as if Patton misheard, and laughed because he thought Thomas was waiting for a walrus to kiss him. It’s not perfect, and I only do this as a last resort measure. I usually prefer sticking to the original as much as I can.
There’s only one other instance when I’ve become creative while translating. In the scenes featuring rapping or some songs. There’s one defining characteristic of rap: it has to rhyme. If it doesn’t it’s not a rap. So, to create a translation of a rap that didn’t rhyme was almost like a sacrilege to me. So, in the case of the Rap Battle from “Am I Original”, I wrote Spanish lyrics for that rap that respected as much of the original as I could while also respecting the rhymes and also the metrics. These are the lyrics I wrote in Spanish, followed by the literal translation (I presume you all know the original English lyrics by heart at this point)
Damas, reyes y nobleza no binaria Ved como derroto rápido a este paria Aplastaré a cualquier villano con ganas de ir a por mí La bruja dragón lo sabe bien: llegué, vi y vencí Aunque no sabía adivinar, Sabía que esto iba a pasar. Piensas fatal, rapeas mal Te crees lo más, y en un pispás Acabo con tu honor: no es difícil de lograr. Te voy a superar, Princi, pues tengo una mente simpar.
Mejores genios he logrado hundir, tú no podrás huír. Si presionas, subiré, y me tendrás sobre ti. Todo es cuestion de cápita. Vas a perder como ocurrió en Ática. Ya está, vete a casa, se acabó. Solo hay un bardo entre los dos, no eres tú, soy yo.
Ladies, Kings and non binary nobility Watch how I defeat this outcast I’ll crush any villain with the guts to go after me The Dragon Witch knows well: I arrived, I saw and I won (Veni, vidi, vici) Even though I can’t tell fortune, I knew this was gonna happen. You think awfully, you rap bad You think you’re the best and in no time I end your honor: It’s not difficult to manage. I’m gonna get over you, Princey, because I’ve got an outstanding mind
I have managed to sink down better geniouses, you won’t be able to run away If you push, I’ll rise up, and you’ll have me over you. It is all a matter of capita. You’re gonna lose as it happened on Attica. It’s done, go home, it’s over. There’s only a bard among us both, it’s not you, it’s me.
As you can see, it says almost the same as the original, only that not literally, and the rhymes are preserved, so it still is a rap.There is people who may disagree with this, but this is actually a technique that is used all the time when doing a translation. In fact, sticking literally and rigidly to the original words in a text is considered a flaw in a translation, because sometimes it makes you lose all the sense of the original.
That also happens with idioms. It is a huge mistake to translate them literally. There usually is an equivalent in the target language and that’s the idiom you must use. For instance, in Dealing with Intrusive Thoughts, there’s a moment where Virgil asks Remus if he has a strong suit and Remus answes “I do, my birthday suit”. Both expressions, “strong suit” and “birthday suit” don’t make sense if literally translated to Spanish. For the first one, we have “punto fuerte”, literally “strong point”, and for the second one we have the expression “en cueros”, literally “on leather”. If I had translated the dialogue literally it would have been “¿Tienes algún traje fuerte? Sí, mi traje de nacimiento.” That doesn’t make sense in Spanish. So I had to translate to Spanish as, “¿Tienes algún punto fuerte? ¡Sí, ponerme en cueros!” (”Do you have any strong point? Yes, putting myself on leather!”) As you can see, it doesn’t make sense in English, but asure you it makes all the sense in Spanish and conveys the original words perfectly.
And I think this is more than enough of sharing my experiences translating Sanders Sides. I hope this has been enlightening in any way and that I didn’t make it too boring. I didn’t mean to pontificate about it. I’m only sharing my own experience. There are many other translators in other different languages who have their own experiences and they’re all equally valid, for starters because any language is different and therefore different rules and methods apply. As long as the translation is faithful to the original, not necesarily literally as I said, it will be a good translation, and that’s our goal after all when we translate something, to make a foreign work reachable to a broader international audience. I hope I have managed to do so and that I made @thatsthat24 ‘s work more reachable, as it deserves to be so. Until next time.
#thomas sanders#sanders sides#logan sanders#roman sanders#remus sanders#virgil sanders#patton sanders
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Earned the Attention | a.i
Anon asked: Could you do a cute (longish) Calum or Ashton imagine based on attention by The Weeknd , like you're famous and Calums lw ignoring you for a while, you guys fight, and then he does some cute smutt shit based on earned* it by The Weeknd. Then just cute apologies and fluff? Please.
Word Count: 3,500+
AN: sorry that it’s late, honey. please forgive me and enjoy this x (hope it doesn’t suck ahh)
I M A G I N E [SMUT]
Baby, you are so strong. Baby you are calm, you are so calm.
“We can’t keep playing these games, Y/N.” A drummer boy’s voice was low, tame. More hoarse than usual, the exhaustion hitting him as time deepened the night. He arced his bare back, having you watch from behind as his muscles flexed. “It’s becoming too much.”
“Ashton, they’re not games,” you whispered, grabbing more of the sheets to cover your raw body. Ashton merely glanced behind you, seeing you huddled in fetal position at the headboard of the bed. Your skin was kissed by the lights provided by the city before you, the curtains gone to reveal everything outside.
Tell me where it went wrong. Tell me how to love, it’s been so long.
Silence emerged immediately, the only sound to be heard were repetitive messages bursting from both of your phones. You looked at Ashton, his curly hair a mess as his tone back was kissed by the city lights. He leaned his hands on the bed, barely straining his biceps as veins of greens and blues crawled up his forearms. It was difficult to see in the dimness of the room, but you had studied Ashton’s character for a while now.
“I missed you,” you uttered, breaking the silence more powerful than sound itself. And it was true, you did. Striving two different lives in the same world was tough. His music guided him one way, and your fame gushed you to another. There was so much that texting and phone calls could do, but even touch was becoming bland.
You wanted more.
When a call’s not enough, and you just need to touch.
“But you’re missing too much, Y/N.” You hitched your breath, holding the near tip of your tongue as he looked distantly at the glass windows. He emitted a deep sigh, one that allowed air to escape through his lips and nose. “You’re asking for far too much. What the fuck more do you want?”
“I want you, Ashton!” You pleaded quietly, clenching tightly on the fabric covering your body. Emotion was playing at your body, with goosebumps surging all over your arms and legs. Police cars came into sound as it passed by the hotel.
“We just fucked, Y/N, what else can you possibly ask for?” Ashton spat, his tone more aggressive and cool. It was so much different than when you first met. The gentle kind boy with the wide smiles and the soft dimples. Kindness rolled off his tongue without him trying, with a face so gleaming and inviting every time he laughed. Those times were the times where you felt the warmest.
Thinking twice on my one, but you just need to trust...
“Dates,” you began, your voice struggling to control itself. It yearned to strain itself from emotions as tears threatened to escape your eyes. But you knew you had to be tough to get your desires across. “I want to drink coffee with you, and go on dinner dates with a shared plate of spaghetti and candle lights. I want strolls in the park and purple cotton candy and holding hands. I want private music sessions and lyrics and shitty guitar playing. I want you-- all of you.”
Everything went still after your words. Nothing came from the drummer at the end of the bed, seeing as he remained sat at the edge. Your bottom lip quivered, it’s chapped being still remembering when a pair of lips were sucking on them. Heart raced without pause, running in a race with no winner. Your fingers began to sweat from the cotton fabric, feeling it’s smoothness melt between your fingers.
“You’re only looking for attention.” Ashton uttered, his voice husky, tinted with annoyance. You flinched slightly at his words, accurate but still not exact. “You’re only noticing because I’m never around. True or false?”
“True but--” you tried, but Ashton quickly lifted his hand to silence you. He turned to stare at you, his face half dark with the other revealing a cold stare. His hazel eyes were dim, pupils small as he looked into your eyes. His lips were pursed in the straight light, completely stern with no dimples. His expression held no happiness, no warmth.
“But nothing,” Ashton muttered quietly. “You’re asking for so much from me, Y/N. And I can’t provide that anymore because there’s no time. My career leaves me no time, and yours doesn’t as well.”
“But I make the time for you!” You chimed, scoffing at him with soft eyes. It was hard to really spit a cold statement without feeling your heart bounce. You were in contact with the boy you adore, how could you be cold?
“I flew in because you were crying on the phone,” Ashton began lowly as he stood up. His ass was revealed to you, plump with dents at the outer cheeks. But you quickly diverted your eyes back up at the curly-haired man as he bent down to pick up his garments. “We fucked, and you seemed happy with it.”
“But I’m not!” You wailed as he began pulled up his tight jeans. You struggled to crawl to the end of the bed, still covered your body with the smooth sheets. “You came over, we had small talk, and then you began to take off my shirt! Texting stays at 2 sentences, calls always holds several periods of silence, and you get quick to feel me up and down!”
“Because you want me to fucking touch you!” Ashton exclaims as he pulled down his shirt. “You’re always wailing about how you miss my damn touch! But now that I do, that’s still not enough?”
“Have you ever thought that ‘touch’ isn’t just sex?” You began, having Ashton roll his eyes as he grabbed his phone and wallet from the bedside table. “I just want to hug you, hold your hand, smell your scent and just have your presence. But you just come to fuck me and leave!”
“Because every time I do, you stop wailing about it for months until the next time you want me again!” Ashton roared, slipping on his Vans. “I’m sorry princess, but you don’t get to be the victim here. I’m done being pinned as the bad guy.”
With that, you watched the tall figure make his way to the door. You didn’t know what to do, or what to say. The man you love so much was just one door away from leaving your life forever. You didn’t want him to go, to disconnected his heart from yours, you--
“I love you!” You called out as Ashton slammed the door. There was no hesitance, no second-guessing. Nothing.
Your phone was dry, still no replies.
Endless calls and texts were sent to the boy with curly hair, but none seem to be coming through. Even sitting with this broken heart for a week, you couldn’t help but worry over this boy. He left, leaving an essence of frustration. Though his words pained you, you didn’t want to see this fight effect him at all.
But today, you decided to remain silent.
Some tried to convince you that he hadn’t deserved your words. Others claim that he hadn’t deserved a place in your conscious. Few thought the break up was much needed, both for you and him.
But it pained you. In interviews you had done, your smile lacked genuine happiness. Your eyes lost their glimmer, you were too stiff and failed to feel elated. Interviewers would ask about Ashton, and you tried as much as possibly to pass the subject. His name sent all sorts of jolts to your heart that hurt you far beyond belief.
You hadn’t dared badmouthed him though. Of all things, you understood publicity and understood how vital that was to both of your careers. You did everything you can to avoid the topic of Ashton and only said good things when you couldn’t evade. There were no bad things to even say, anyways.
Ashton was always a sweet man. He is someone kind and giving, one who would do a lot just to see a stranger smile. He spreads love and joy to those who strive hard lives. He kisses those in need of affection on the cheek and draws butterflies on war scars. Regardless of the emotional trip he took at your heart, Ashton will always be an amazing person to you.
There were you, residing on your leather couch as the heat of your body stuck your skin to it. Hot brewed coffee was held in your hands, emitting a yawn at 5:00 P.M. as you sat lazily. The scent of hazel nut and nutmeg intoxicated your nose as you watched the TV that wasn’t even on.
“Y/N!” The intercom suddenly blasted, having you flinch as you quickly placed your cup down. You shot from the couch, your feet touching the smooth, wooden tiles in pursuit of the intercom. You slammed your hand on the mic button, your heart randomly racing from the suddenness of the moment.
“Yes?” You breathed.
“There’s someone here for you. He says his name is A.”
Your heart froze. Who is A? You don’t know anybody by that name. Unless, of course, if it’s the first initial of someone’s name. Could it be who you thought it could be? No no, it can’t be. That’d be too much hopeful thinking. But he hasn’t left the city yet. He uploaded a selfie of himself yesterday in the city, captioning the name.
“Would you like me to let him in?” The intercom suddenly scared you out of your thoughts, having you turn the mic on once more to utter a ‘yes.’ You waited by the door anxiously, unsure as to how to take this. You had no clue who this person could be. They could be a murderer, but you still let them in.
Then it came: the knock on the door.
Your hand slowly touched the gold knob, feeling the cold metal contrast from your clammy hand. It was shaking, but you hadn’t paid much mind to that fact. grasping it tightly, you unlock the door and twist the knob, opening it slowly. That’s when you were introduced to a sobbing Ashton Irwin.
“E-eh...” You began, unable to produce words as Ashton quickly swallowed you into a hug. His strong arms wrapped around your torso tightly, with his face residing at the crook of your neck. You could feel his tears being smeared on your neck, his sniffs cooling it from the air. This was very unlike the aggressive Ashton you had faced just a few days ago.
“I’m s-so sorry to come in so suddenly, Y/N,” Ashton spoke lowly, moving his face a little away from your neck to speak properly. “B-but I just... I’m so sorry about everything I’ve done!”
“A-Ashton...” You began, your arms too numb to even wrap them around him.
“I slept with another woman last night,” Ashton said quietly, having your heart throb slightly at those words. Even though the two of you were no longer a thing, it didn’t stop you from being in love with him. “And this morning I woke up to her on the phone. She was talking to somebody, saying she was gonna use me... for fame and money, and I just...”
You slowly found blood in your arms and rose them to the boys back. You felt his smooth blue sweater upon your forearms, grabbing it between your fingers to hold onto him. You tried to soothe them with a series of ‘shushes’ and ‘it’s okay.’ But his sniffles and stuttering found no end.
“When I told her to fuck off and left, I realized that you were never like that,” Ashton began. “Y-You were the only one who didn’t want me just for sex. I felt your love, and I knew it was completely real in the beginning. And I just...”
Ashton’s voice trailed away, feeling his weeps upon your warm neck as he held you. You had no clue what to really do or think. You felt the strands of his curly hair tickle at your ear politely. You could feel his words pour into your heart, feeling as he clenched your shirt in his hands.
“I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness,” he began suggestively, having you anticipate the next words he’ll be choosing. “But I want to try and make up for it. To prove to you that I want and need you in my life. Physically, emotionally-- completely.”
The drummer had been quick, pulling you away after his words. Your eyes had widened as Ashton slowly got closer to you until his lips were finally pressed on yours. His lips, slightly chapped, sucked upon your bottom lip, allowing it between the coolness that were his lips. He moaned, feeling the vibrations dancing on your lips as he swiped his tongue along the rim of your bottom lip.
“Ash--” You tried, attempting to stop him. But your hands didn’t even dare press against his chest to try to push him away. Your arms remained straight down, hanging loosely by your sides. His hands, though, worked quick as they snaked around your waist and grabbed you closer. Then, he abandoned your lips to start nibbling down your jawline, then down to your neck.
“Ha.. A-Ash...” You moaned, unable to control yourself as he slowly and gently pushed you to the wall. You felt your back along the coolness of the green wall as Ashton kissed your neck lovingly. The moistness of his saliva played a role in your pleasure as his teeth lightly tugged at your sensitive skin.
“I was checking my phone today, beautiful,” Ashton murmured along your neck, having another moan come from the vibrations of his voice. “And I saw you didn’t text me today, and I only checked my phone to see if you texted me. Ignored everyone else.”
He swiped the tip of his tongue to the other side of your neck, giving the un-tampered skin some attention.
“Passed by so many strangers, anticipating to see you in the crowd,” Ashton growled, sucking your skin harshly. You threw your head back, your hands attempting to grab onto the flatness of the wall. “Just wanted to see your pretty face...”
Ashton’s large hands slipped under your shirt, feeling your smooth sides appreciatively. You felt those callouses tickle your skin, but you were too heated to dare giggle. His long, sturdy fingers brushed lightly upon your stomach before digging through your breast cup.
“Such a sweet princess, aren’t you?” Ashton groaned, smirking upon your neck. He blew against your new hickey, having you bite your bottom lip. “Calling me in such concern, sending me texts to see how I was. How did I even think about letting you go?”
Breathless to answer, Ashton chuckled on your neck before slipping his hands into your bra. You felt his cool hands grope your breasts, absorbing their warmth as your nipples became perky. Goosebumps rose all over, feeling your core heat up in desperate need of him.
His lips trailed down to your collarbone, nibbling on the sensitive skin lovingly. Subconsciously, your hands jolted up and weaved themselves into Ashton’s curls. You felt the softness of it, barely tugging on it as the tips of his fingers tugged on your rising buds. Moans became music to his ears as he rubbed the tip of your nipples with his rough thumbs.
“Sh-should we?” You breathed out, your eyes darting over to the direction of your bedroom. Ashton looked up and nodded, grabbing your waist once more as he took lead in guiding you to the room. His lips attached themselves back on yours as he walked over to your bedroom door and gently hit your back against the door. You heard him desperately turn at the knob before opening it and tossing you on the bed.
“Look at you,” Ashton began with a smirk, watching from above as you lied on the full sized bed. Your chest was heaving, cheeks flushed as you looked up at Ashton lustfully. “All hot and frustrated over me.”
He quickly got on the bed on all fours so he could dip down and kiss you lovingly. You wrapped your arms loosely around his neck to lift yourself up to be closer to him. You felt one of his hands rub down your soft belly before reaching the hem of your pajama shorts. He tugged them down, barely reaching the knees as he exposed the uppermost of your thighs.
“Do a favor for me, princess?” Ashton began once he detached his lips from yours. You nodded, parting your lips as they throbbing from his kisses. He then held up his middle and index fingers, pressing them together firmly. “Suck on them with your pretty little mouth.”
Ashton brought the tip of his fingers to your bottom lip, his dry fingers drying up a bit of your moist lip. Quickly, you widened your mouth a bit more to allow his fingers in, but they didn’t move. So you grabbed his wrist and pushed them in, a sudden taste of saltiness playing at your tongue. Your cool tongue licked his warm fingers as you bobbed your head along them. Your tongue dug through the in between of the fingers, allowing saliva to reside between them. Sucking on them harshly, you had remained consistent before Ashton removed his fingers with a pop!
“Good girl,” Ashton mumbled, biting down harshly on his bottom lip as he guided his hand to your thighs. You spread them, having Ashton smile before cutting right to the chase. He shoved his fingers in you, having you throw your head back as those long fingers filled you. He kept moving them in and out, using your saliva as lubricant to move with ease. You clenched your walls around his fingers, having him growl happily. “You’re so tight, princess...”
He was quick to reach your g-spot, lowering himself once more to kiss you as he fingered you ruthlessly. Before you knew it, you had released all over his fingers, moaning his name like it was to save your life. He quickly hopped off the bed, guiding his mouth to your pussy as he licked your liquids. You felt his cool tongue lick along your clit as he slowly moved to your slit. You felt his lips soon press upon your labia as he sucked your juices.
“Ngh... A-Ash!” You shrieked as his tongue began entering you. But he was fast to remove it as he stood up straight once more and swiped his tongue along his bottom lip. You looked up at him, completely heated and flushed to see a smirk painted at his lips. But then you looked into his eyes and found lust being replaced with love and warmth.
“I don’t want to have sex with you.” Those words struck you a bit, excitement deflated and confidence exploded. His hands grabbed the hem of your panties and shorts and pulled them back up. You crawled up to the headboard, sitting in a pretzel as you stared at the drummer boy before you.
“S-so you just came to play around a bit, huh?” You began bitterly. Your fingers grabbed on your sheets strongly as those hazel eyes bore into yours. “You say all these words of sentiment only to play me like the other girls, right? I’m nothing more than another fucking body, right? That’s just how it is now--”
“You’re different, Y/N,” Ashton interrupted. You silenced yourself completely, eyes widening from such bold words. His eyes didn’t dare break the lock on yours as he spoke. “I don’t know why it took me so long to realize, but you’re so perfect to me, Y/N. Your body, the kind of person you are, the heart you own... I don’t know why I didn’t take this so heavily when I assessed in the choice of leaving you. One week deflated my entire heart until there were no beat, so warmth. There was nothing without you, Y/N. I was nothing without you.”
“I...” You began, in pure disbelief of his audacious words. Coming to your house, saying all those sweet words, giving you brief pleasure only to repeat more sweet words. Who did he think he was? “Ashton, you can’t just come in here saying all these words like what you did can easily be fixed with some sort of straight-out-of-the-movies speech.”
Swiftly, Ashton walked to the headboard, took a seat by you, and enclosed your hands between his.
“I want to take you out and talk,” Ashton began quietly. “And have coffee, with shared spaghetti for dinner and vanilla candles. Purple cotton candy and walks in the park. I want that all, too. I know I want that all because it took me time without you to realize how much I missed it. Y/N, please understand that you’re entirely worth it to me. You are absolutely worth it.”
You had just a hint of uncertainty over his ask. But his face was stern, a seriousness you haven’t seen before. His stare hadn’t faltered, and his hazel eyes has yet to wander someplace else in sheepishness. He held your hands firmly, determined to keep them in his hold until you gave him an answer that catered to his preference.
“...There’s a new cafe they opened across the street,” you said quietly, blushing furiously. “You can make up everything by buying me a scone and a latte.”
Ashton smiled happily, obliging completely. He squeezed your hands happily, having you watch as he stared at them lovingly. His thumb brushed along the top of one of them, appreciating your smooth skin.
“It’s been decided,” Ashton announced.
“Huh?” You hummed, looking at him with a puzzled stare. His hazel eyes locked into yours immediately, his lips forming a soft smile. His dimples showed, the soft indents lightening up his face completely.
“I’m gonna care for you from now on,” Ashton stated, his eyes full of determination and warmth. “Forever and always.”
#Ashton Irwin#Ashton Irwin love#Ashton Irwin 5sos#Ashton Irwin 5sauce#Ashton Irwin 5 seconds of summer#Ashton Irwin imagine#Ashton Irwin imagines#Ashton Irwin smut#Ashton Irwin sex#Ashton Irwin fluff#Ashton Irwin is a dad#Ashton#Ashton 5sos#Ashton 5 seconds of summer#Ashton 5sauce#Ashton imagin#Ashton imagine#Ashton imagines#Ashton smut#Ashton sex#Ashton emotion#Ashton love#Ashton fluff#5sos#5sauce#5 seconds of summer#5sos smut#5sos imagines#5sosfam#5sos fuck
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The last time Dierks Bentley came to Ottawa was in December 2014. For that show he brought Tim Hicks and Randy Houser…it was also the first show we ever covered at the Canadian Tire Centre. That show was amazing… last night, however, was something that, when it was over, made me sit in awe asking #WhatTheHell did I just witness.
Jon Pardi
Jon Pardi at Canadian Tire Centre – photo credit: Scott Martin Visuals
The show started out with Jon Pardi, although it was a shorter set than he had when we saw him in Kingston with Kip Moore, it didn’t take Jon long to get the, near sellout, crowd fired up and energised with his up tempo, toe tapping, make you wanna get up and dance, songs. From his hits “Head over Boots” and “Up All Night” to the title track of his sophomore studio album “California Sunrise” it was clear that Ottawa was in for one heck of a night if the rest of the lineup came out as strong as Jon did.
Cole Swindell
Cole Swindell at Canadian Tire Centre – photo credit: Scott Martin Visuals
Following Jon was an artist that I have had on my concert bucket list for a number of years, Cole Swindell. By the reaction of the crowd when Cole took to the stage it was clear that everyone in that building felt the same was as me. I had high hopes for Cole and I’m so thrilled that he did not disappoint. Cole came out swinging wearing his trademark Georgia State baseball cap (yes it’s GS not CS as many seem to think). Having now seen Dierks 4 times (Boots and Hearts twice and CTC twice) I was there for Cole.
Cole Swindell at Canadian Tire Centre – photo credit: Scott Martin Visuals
Cole Swindell is definitely on my wish list for Boots and Hearts or RBC Bluesfest or any other festival I attend that has country music because last night’s set just wasn’t enough. From “Chillin It” and the ultimate break-up song “Ain’t Worth the Whiskey” to “Middle of a Memory”. The massive audience, likely the largest on their Ontario tour to date, humbled Cole who at one point stopped and said to the crowd “As an artist, a songwriter and a performer this is the kind of crowd you dream of performing in front of!” He was visibly touched by the crowd’s response to “Middle of a Memory” and thanked them for allowing him to be part of their memories that night.
Cole Swindell at Canadian Tire Centre – photo credit: Scott Martin Visuals
Prior to finding success as a performer Cole was a songwriter and has written hit songs for some of today’s top country stars. As he was getting ready to wrap up his show Cole took the audience through a medley of some of his most recognizable hits as a songwriter which included the songs “Get Me Some of That” which he wrote for Thomas Rhett, “Rollercoaster” which he wrote for Luke Bryan and “This is How we Roll” which he wrote for Florida Georgia Line.
Cole Swindell at Canadian Tire Centre – photo credit: Scott Martin Visuals
Cole wrapped up the night with his uber emotional “You Should Be Here” which made the Canadian Tire Centre light up with thousands of cell phone lights and, I’m certain, left very few dry eyes in the house as Cole sang the song in front of a slide show dedicated to his late father who, at the end of the song, Cole proclaimed “should be here to see this”.
Dierks Bentley
Dierks Bentley at Canadian Tire Centre – photo credit: Scott Martin Visuals
Dierks Bentley took to the stage next and boy let me tell you over the next, almost two hours, the audience was in for a mega treat. I don’t know if the current political state in the USA played a part in it but wow this was by far the strongest, and most passionate, I’ve ever seen Dierks Bentley.
Dierks Bentley at Canadian Tire Centre – photo credit: Scott Martin Visuals
Kicking the party off with “Up on the Ridge” the show was a thrill ride from start to finish fully loaded with monster hits like “Tip it On Back”, the always fun “5-1-5-0” the thought provoking “It’s Different for Girls” (minus Elle King) and of course his powerful single “I Hold On”, the video montage for this song ended with a tribute to his best friend, and touring partner for much of his career, Jake, the dog, who passed away late last year.
Dierks Bentley at Canadian Tire Centre – photo credit: Scott Martin Visuals
Midway through the show, as is customary for Dierks, he brought Jon Pardi back out on stage. Dierks’ crew presented Jon with a, flower adorned, pink microphone stand. Pardi jokingly jumped into a chorus of Prince’s “Purple Rain” before the two started taking about George Strait and then performing a duet of Strait’s 1973 hit “Amarillo by Morning”. Following the duet Bentley jumped into his latest single “Black” which he followed with the pumped up “Feel That Fire” after which he took a short dash through the crowd to the far stage platform. Hey thanked the fans that had seats at the back of the arena telling them “this would be incredibly awkward if you guys wouldn’t be here because I’d be standing here talking to myself.”
Even Dierks seemed taken aback by the crowd, at one point he said to the crowd “I’m nervous, we’ve been coming up here since 2003 but we’ve never played in front of this many people.”
Dierks Bentley at Canadian Tire Centre – photo credit: Scott Martin Visuals
Bentley briefly touched on the state of the world politically telling the crowd that “Now more than ever we should never take for granted the freedoms we have!” which lead into the perfect song, “Home”. The message in this song speaks volumes with everything that’s going on in the USA right now. Lyrics like: “Free, nothing feels like free. Though it sometimes means we don’t get along. Cause same, no we’re not the same but that’s what makes us strong.” The song closes with the words “It’s been a long, hard ride and I won’t lose hope. This is still the place that we all call home!”
One thing was certain, Dierks loved his two appearances, so far, at Boots and Hearts. On more than one occasion he talked about his love for the event that he appeared at this past summer in in 2013. “This feels like Boots and Hearts, its such a fun festival.” Something tells me we haven’t seen the last of him at the annual event and based on the crowd response last night I have a feeling he’d be welcomed back with open arms.
Dierks Bentley at Canadian Tire Centre – photo credit: Scott Martin Visuals
The show moved back to the mainstage where Cole Swindell returned to perform his latest single “Flatliners”, which also features Dierks Bentley. Our friend Tim Hicks got a mention in “What was I Thinking”, the crowd roared when they heard Tim’s name. The main show ended, much like it did in 2014, with Dierks going “Sideways”. By this time it was already 11pm, most shows that come to Ottawa are wrapped up long before and here Dierks was still ramping up for his grand finale…and what a finale it would be too!
The stage lights lit up in the shape of a plane and every one of the estimated 10,000 fans in attendance knew what was coming and Dierks didn’t disappoint. There was video footage of Dierks in the cockpit of an airplane and then suddenly with a bright flash of light the nose of an airplane appeared on centre stage with Bentley at the controls. This was the start of a 12 minute party which saw Cole, Jon and members of the audience join Dierks on the stage.
Gotta hand it to @dierksbentley he took his show up 14 notches since the #risertour! Here's a taste of the #WTHTour grand finale! #WeLoveLive #ottawa
A video posted by Sound Check Entertainment (@soundcheckentertainment) on Jan 28, 2017 at 8:21pm PST
What a show. Definitely jacked up 14 notches from the last time Dierks was in town and I’m already looking forward to the next time.
Dierks and the boys head to London tonight before jetting off to Western Canada for a few shows before returning home and wrapping up the tour in the Las Vegas this March.
For more coverage from Saturday night’s concert visit us on social media and don’t forget to enter our Boots and Hearts ticket contest here.
For information on Dierks’ What The Hell Tour and where it’s headed next and how to get tickets visit www.dierks.com
More photos
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Jon Pardi at Canadian Tire Centre – photo credit: Scott Martin Visuals
Jon Pardi at Canadian Tire Centre – photo credit: Scott Martin Visuals
Jon Pardi at Canadian Tire Centre – photo credit: Scott Martin Visuals
Jon Pardi at Canadian Tire Centre – photo credit: Scott Martin Visuals
Jon Pardi at Canadian Tire Centre – photo credit: Scott Martin Visuals
Dierks Bentley at Canadian Tire Centre – photo credit: Scott Martin Visuals
Dierks Bentley at Canadian Tire Centre – photo credit: Scott Martin Visuals
Dierks Bentley at Canadian Tire Centre – photo credit: Scott Martin Visuals
Dierks Bentley at Canadian Tire Centre – photo credit: Scott Martin Visuals
Dierks Bentley at Canadian Tire Centre – photo credit: Scott Martin Visuals
Dierks Bentley at Canadian Tire Centre – photo credit: Scott Martin Visuals
Dierks Bentley at Canadian Tire Centre – photo credit: Scott Martin Visuals
Dierks Bentley at Canadian Tire Centre – photo credit: Scott Martin Visuals
Cole Swindell at Canadian Tire Centre – photo credit: Scott Martin Visuals
Cole Swindell at Canadian Tire Centre – photo credit: Scott Martin Visuals
Cole Swindell at Canadian Tire Centre – photo credit: Scott Martin Visuals
Cole Swindell at Canadian Tire Centre – photo credit: Scott Martin Visuals
Cole Swindell at Canadian Tire Centre – photo credit: Scott Martin Visuals
Cole Swindell at Canadian Tire Centre – photo credit: Scott Martin Visuals
Cole Swindell at Canadian Tire Centre – photo credit: Scott Martin Visuals
Cole Swindell at Canadian Tire Centre – photo credit: Scott Martin Visuals
Cole Swindell at Canadian Tire Centre – photo credit: Scott Martin Visuals
Cole Swindell at Canadian Tire Centre – photo credit: Scott Martin Visuals
Dierks Bentley explodes into a packed Canadian Tire Centre in Ottawa The last time Dierks Bentley came to Ottawa was in December 2014. For that show he brought Tim Hicks and Randy Houser...it was also the first show we ever covered at the Canadian Tire Centre.
#Boots and Hearts#Canadian Tire Centre#Cole Swindell#Dierks Bentley#Jon Pardi#Ottawa#What the Hell Tour
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Some of the most memorable moments on stage this year were not just unplanned — they were on unexpected stages. The student survivors of Marjory Stoneman Douglas H.S. gave a surprise performance of “Seasons of Love” from Rent on the stage of Radio City Music Hall during the 2018
Tony Awards. Katrina Lenk sang “If I Were A Rich Man” from Fiddler on the Roof, accompanying herself on violin (!), as part of MCC Theater’s annual Miscast gala. The kiss between Caitlin Kinnunen as Emma, a Indiana high school student, and Isabelle McCalla as her closeted girl friend Alyssa, had far more power — and got far more attention — when they did so in front of Macy’s while performing the musical number from The Prom as part of the Thanksgiving Day Parade broadcast.
Still, there were enough memorable moments in ongoing New York shows (even some one might not otherwise have cared for) to fill a gallery, like the one below. Click on any photograph to see it enlarged and to read the extensive caption that explains the moment. Not all these moments were lovely; some were ugly. All were memorable.
In The Damned, Ivo van Hove’s adaptation of Visconti’s film about the rise of Nazism and its corruption of a German industrialist family, son Martin (Christophe Montenez) cruelly and methodically tars and feathers his own mother, the scheming Baronne Sophie von Essenbeck (Elsa LePoivre.) It was one of the many startling moments that drove home the horror.
In “Be More Chill,” George Salazar sings a show-stopping number “Michael in the Bathroom At A Party,” which includes lyrics that couldn’t be more straightforward, or more affecting: I am hanging in the bathroom At the biggest party of the fall/ I could stay right here or disappear/ and nobody’s even notice at all
King Kong is an expressive creature — those dreamy eyes, that sensitive sniffing of his nose – but he’s most impressive when he’s rushing through the dizzying streets of New York, and then up the Empire State Building, floor by floor, emitting that earthquake of a roar. ,(The projection, lighting and sound design are sensational.)
In “The New One,” Mike Birbiglia’s latest monologue, it’s not clear what the show is about until his seemingly random jokey anecdotes suddenly focus on what it’s like for him to be a first-time father — and suddenly, the detritus of babyhood (stuffed toys, little plastic furniture crumpled sheets, etc) are abruptly dumped on the stage from on high, surrounding him. (Something similar happened in Collective Rage, but it wasn’t just one moment. Items dropped from the ceiling as needed throughout the play.)
Anika Noni Rose enters as Carmen Jones in her bright red dress and red rose, and inspects her silk stockings. It is a subtle gesture that shows us a woman out for herself..
In Adrienne Kennedy’s cryptic “He Brought Her Heart Back in A Box,” there was a chilling moment that consisted of little more than the woman walking down a steep staircase toward the man. But somehow, thanks to Christopher Barreca’s set design and Donald Holder’s lighting, the moment suggested both Gone with the Wind, and Hitchcock, speaking loudly albeit silently about the terrors of racial injustice.
Monica Blaze Leavitt was one of the Jews in hiding from The Nazis in “The Hidden Ones,” a piece where the six audience members at each performance found a chai or a corner of the bed to sit in the attic as daily life unfolded.just by candle and flashlight. But then there was a loud knocking, the lights were extinguished, and, before she disappeared, she rushed toward me and thrust something into my hand. When a man came to retrieve us to safety, I saw in the hallway that it was her ring.
In “KINK HAÜS, ” Frank Leone swirled in, around and over headless blue mannequins. It was one of the many vigorously athletic and erotically choreographed moments performed by seven skilled performers who are in remarkably good shape and often mostly undraped. Their movement veered between balletic, playful, graphic, and dangerous-looking.
Jackie Hoffman, in the Yiddish Fiddler on the Roof: Avrom, I have a golden match [ “a goldenem shidukh”] for your son, a girl, a diamond. Who is she? Rokhl, the shoemaker’s daughter. Rokhl? She can barely see. She’s almost entirely blind. The truth is, Avrom, what is there to see in your son? The way she sees, and the way he looks— it’s a match from heaven. All this was accompanied by English subtitles, but the Yiddish was not just as musical as the songs. In a single instant, the exchange revealed the source of much of American comedy — the shrug and the whine and the wisecrack — as derived from the rhythm of the Yiddish language.
Cherise Boothe portrays Undine, the rich and elegant owner of a PR agency, in “Fabulation.” Robbed or all her savings by her con man of a husband, who then disappears, she’s pregnant and penniless, and forced to go back to the poor Brooklyn neighborhood where she grew up. There she runs into two women she used to know. She pretends she doesn’t know them, but then they launch into the singing-and-dancing routine they perfected as double dutch champions in junior high school — and Undine can’t help but join them. There’s a joy here in the choreography, but a deeper point is planted. The moment ends with one of her childhood friends explaining she now works as a senior financial planner at J.P. Morgan. So Undine — and the audience — learn a valuable lesson about making assumptions about other people.
Suddenly dancing The Madison in The Boys in the Band: Robin De Jesus, Michael Benjamin Washington, Andrew Rannells, Jim Parsons (There’s a similarly memorable moment of a dance break in “Straight White Men”)
Justin Peck choreographed spectacularly muscular choreography for “Blow High, Blow Low” in Carousel, starring Amar Ramasar, in front of Santo Loquasto’s picturesque set of a working seaport that seemed lifted from great American paintings by Thomas Eakins and Edward Hopper.
The shimmering effect of the time-travel scenes (not captured in this or any other production photographs, and perhaps uncapturable.)
“Funny how hope changes everything. Funny how hope changes nothing,” a singer chanted standing on the High Line overlooking 18th street, as a light in his black baseball cap eerily illuminated his face. A few feet away, competing with the noise of a construction site, another singer chanted “Funny how construction next store changes everything. Funny how construction next store changes nothing,” while putting his hands in front of his face in a comical expression of annoyance. Nearby other performers sang how money or sex or tears or “a glass of really good red wine” change everything and nothing.This was the most memorable moment for me in The Mile Long Opera, in which 1,000 performers sang or recited monologues in stationery positions along the entire 30 block length of the High Line.
When we first see him, Sahr Ngaujah is in a tense crouch, his left arm stretched in the air behind him, his right arm curled below him, like an especially fierce bowler – or a massive elephant with a mighty trunk. And that’s what he portrays in Mlima, Lynn Nottage’s poetically haunting play about the ivory trade.
The moment in The Hendrix Project, when it became clear that all the characters attending Jimi Hendrix’s 1969 New Year’s Eve concert as the Fillmore East — the last such concert before he died — would be staring at us like zombies for the whole show (as if watching Hendrix) and not say a single word in the entire time.
Memorable Moments on Stage in 2018 Some of the most memorable moments on stage this year were not just unplanned -- they were on unexpected stages.
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The Color Purple to open at Joburg Theatre
The first major international staging of the musical The Color Purple since the Broadway revival opens in Joburg with an all South African company.
“It is set to be the highlight of the South African theatre calendar in 2018,” says Bernard Jay, Executive Producer of the South African premier production of the musical The Color Purple, “It will thrill, excite, engage, enthral and emote audiences like no other musical before it.”
The Color Purple is glorious amongst musicals in that it entertains and ultimately uplifts audiences to a state of sheer joy, whilst taking them on a passionate journey of an inspiring family saga – telling the unforgettable story of a woman who, through love, finds the strength to triumph over adversity and discover her unique voice in the world.
The musical The Color Purple is based upon the 1982 novel written by Alice Walker and the 1985 motion picture directed by Steven Spielberg. The musical’s book is by Marsha Norman, with music and lyrics by Brenda Russell, Allee Willis and Stephen Bray.
The Color Purple
The media exalted the recent London and Broadway productions of The Color Purple:
“A miracle on Broadway. A glory to behold!” (The New York Times)
“One of the greatest revivals ever!” (New York Magazine)
“It’s here and it’s beautiful” (Time Out New York)
“Never was there such stamping, cheering, hooting, roaring and whistling
…it rocks the house!” (The UK Times)
“The musical numbers almost blow the roof off the theatre!” (UK Daily Telegraph)
“This is a show that pierces and shakes the soul!” (Arts Desk)
“Uplifting and heart capturing!” (Time Out London)
Set to a joyous score featuring jazz, ragtime, gospel and blues, it’s a story of hope – a testament to the healing power of love and a celebration of life.
“When I saw the recent revival of The Color Purple on Broadway, I witnessed an extraordinary involvement of emotions between the actors and the audience, culminating in a five-minute standing ovation and many patrons simply weeping with joy. The audience didn’t want to leave the theatre after the show. They waited for the actors to come into the auditorium so they could hug together and rejoice in their happiness for each other,” says Jay. “We are now eager for South African audiences to share the same celebratory experience.”
The Color Purple the musical will be presented by Joburg Theatre and Bernard Jay on the stage of The Nelson Mandela Theatre at Joburg Theatre, with an official opening date set for Sunday February 4 2018. The season will continue until Sunday March 4. The producers have already spent four years negotiating for the rights and preparing for this South African theatrical coup: the first major international staging of the musical following the 2015 Broadway revival.
The outstanding all-South African creative team assembled by the producers will be helmed by internationally acclaimed, award-winning director Janice Honeyman. The musical direction is by Rowan Bakker, choreography by Oscar Buthelezi, production design by Sarah Roberts, lighting design by Mannie Manim and sound design by Richard Smith.
The cast features (in alphabetical order) Zane Gillion, Didintle Khunou, Sebe Leotlela, Dolly Louw, Andile Magxaki, Yamikani Mahaka-Phiri, Venolia Manale, Namisa Mdlalose, Phumi Mncayi, Neo Motaung, Lerato Mvelase, Tshepo Ncokoane, Thokozani Nzima, Funeka Peppeta, Aubrey Poo, Senzesihle Radebe, Lelo Ramasimong, Zolani Shangase, Ayanda Sibisi and Lebo Toko.
“I promise that South African audiences will laugh, will cry, will cheer,” says Bernard Jay, “but they will never forget The Color Purple.”
Tickets from R240 are available now: telephone 0861 670 670, go online at www.joburgtheatre.com or book in person at the Joburg Theatre box office. Theatre patrons can also book online and pay at selected Pick N Pay stores.
The Color Purple in South Africa is presented in association with M-NET, 702, BONA and RADA.
The Color Purple to open at Joburg Theatre was originally published on Artsvark
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Unleash the Beast: Dirty Mitts' 'Electric Kid' Roars to Life Dirty Mitts' "Electric Kid" thrums with unholy grit and angelic spunk - a tornado of piteous blues bearing the fierce snarl of an unchained beast against gleaming lutescent moonlight. Graffiti'd on back alley walls of sound, snippets weave through gory biro-scribbled stanzas. https://open.spotify.com/album/1sjbqEjOlBkfNXMtibQoXr A seismic surge sends us hurtling into wanton nostalgia – Tommy's voice, a ragged specter haunting forgotten halls; bassist Matt serving grave throbs beneath Mo's razor-edged riffs that snag your soul and let it bleed out each plucked anguish. Every drum beat from Mateusz then sobs like ancient ghosts clawing at tightly nailed coffins for release. Yet within this cataclysmic cacophony lies a quirkily hopeful insomnia - fashioned no less by designer Ghazi's lyrical talents, as each word choice roars audacious defiance between histrionic cries and tender whispers. [caption id="attachment_55512" align="alignnone" width="1150"] Unleash the Beast: Dirty Mitts' 'Electric Kid' Roars to Life[/caption] The tumultuous ebb and flow ultimately conspires to birth a redemptive anthem - it is messy, scorching turmoil etched coolly out in lucid self-reflection. “Electric Kid” proves Dirty Mitts are not chroniclers simply wallowing but warriors fighting their way home. Gloriously dissonant! A symphony shattering centuries to emerge raw-eyed but unbowed from its ashes awakened our weary ears on May 3rd – all streaming platforms their battlefield. This aberration won't bow...and none should dare demand it so! Follow Dirty Mitts on Website, Facebook, YouTube and Instagram.
#Music#DirtyMitts#DirtyMittsdiscography#DirtyMittsdropsElectricKid#DirtyMittsElectricKid#DirtyMittsmusic#DirtyMittsmusicalartist#DirtyMittsmusicalband#DirtyMittsnewsingle#DirtyMittsoutwithElectricKid#DirtyMittsprofile#DirtyMittsreleasesElectricKid#DirtyMittsshareslatestsingleElectricKid#DirtyMittssinger#DirtyMittssongs#DirtyMittsunveilsnewmusictitledElectricKid#DirtyMittsvideos#DirtyMittswithElectricKid#ElectricKid#ElectricKidalbumbyDirtyMitts#ElectricKidbyDirtyMitts#ElectricKidDirtyMitts#ElectricKidfromDirtyMitts#UnleashtheBeastDirtyMittsElectricKidRoarstoLife
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Katy Perry Has an Appetite for Seduction on New Single 'Bon Appétit'-- Listen!
Fresh out the oven!
Katy Perry has an "appetite for seduction" on her sexy new single, "Bon Appétit," released on Thursday.
RELATED: Katy Perry Cuts Her Hair Even Shorter, Dyes It All Blonde: See Her Edgy New Pixie 'Do!
The enticing dance track featuring rap trio Migos is produced by Max Martin, the GRAMMY winner who worked with Perry on previous smash singles, including "I Kissed a Girl," "Roar" and "Dark Horse."
Perry serves up a full helping of sultry lyrics, and she's not afraid to get descriptive about what's on the menu: "Wanna keep you satisfied, customer’s always right. Hope you’ve got some room for the world's best cherry pie."
The 32-year-old pop star promoted her sensual new music on Instagram this week with food-related captions reading, "Fresh out the oven!" and "Compliments of the Chef."
NEWS: Katy Perry Joining Dwayne Johnson to Close Out 'Saturday Night Live's' Successful Season 42
"Bon Appétit" is the second single from Perry’s upcoming fifth studio album. In February, Perry dished to Ryan Seacrest about what fans can expect from her new LP.
"There's going to be all kinds of stuff on [the album] and don't worry, you're going to have some of that good, old Katy Perry fluffy stuff that you love so much," she promised, before gushing about one of her favorite songs from the forthcoming project.
"I have one song called 'Bon Appétit' that I love," she added. "It's pretty sexual."
MORE: Katy Perry Shares Her New View on Relationships: 'Not Everything Has to End in Marriage'
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Feast on Ferocity with Living With The Storm’s 'New Animal Culture' In the savage storm of musical mediocrity, Jim Bryant as Living With The Storm "New Animal Culture" erupts like a voltaic bolt, riotous and unapologetic. This art-pop colossus soars within its pixilated crescendos before crumbling into an effervescent sea of synthetic symphonies; electronic pop rendered with feral beauty. https://open.spotify.com/album/4svZd4RGKLbElf9Od0za1U "Mewling kitten to roaring puma in nine dizzying tracks!" The album ignites ferociously with "No Maps," weaving ghost whispers from forsaken refugee camps. It pirouettes on the edge of discordant catharsis, voicing unheard echoes against faceless oppression. Stark realism cut with electronic tempered steel but swaying findly as a dervish caught in populist melody. Snap! Just as gravity loses strength under feathery synths and celestial harmonies -- we crash back to earthbound mortality: “When did it get so dark?". This electro-dirge bathed incandescently in light laments teetering between haunting entropy and hopeful dream-state elation encapsulates Bryant's lunatic audacity – tickling us till laughter bleeds into tears! [caption id="attachment_55508" align="alignnone" width="1105"] Feast on Ferocity with Living With The Storm’s 'New Animal Culture'[/caption] Fearlessly slamming soulful evocations alongside algorithmic tonality - motley flavors mashed-up inside a hallucinogenic Richardsonian prism 'til they bleed eidetic turquoise. Astonishing! Short yet ample enough for gourmands to feast upon this delirious spectral banquet--a smoky tourmaline aurora that will continue to dance maddeningly behind closed eyelids at dawn’s first blush. Wash your ears aggrieved by today’s sludge-red homogeny in this Sea-of-Forgetfulness-green melody-shower — Living With The Storm ecstatic phantasmagoria: A reverie echoing through intersections of Byzantine electronica, baroque pop stagecraft and damned-if-I-care lyrical audacity; Scorn-euphoria-rapture! Each palaverous note a scintillating dervish spinning out cosmic insights, daring you to tame this 'New Animal' – welcoming you boldly into the eye of its storm...one sonic cyclone at a time. Follow Living With The Storm on Facebook and Twitter.
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Happy Duke’s “Merry Christmas”: A Song for the Season of Giving In a period where the globe still lingers under the gossamer veil of yuletide festivity, Happy Duke emerges as both commander and companion with his latest single, "Merry Christmas." A piece conceived amidst political skirmishes, financial upheavals, and lingering viral shadows, it is designed to be a heartwarming anthem perfect for cultivating an atmosphere of unity. https://open.spotify.com/track/1rtyK9pACC3VMSnc4ACYbg Happy Duke – Artist, Music Composer and Producer extraordinaire – strings together infectious melodies in this musical tapestry that not only captures but emanates the essence of holiday cheer. With male vocals that carry warmth like a roaring hearth on winter solstice night intertwines unapologetically with funk-infused reverberations to get even the most stubborn Scrooge tapping their feet. Beyond its groove-laced melodies lines and shimmering chords lies a thoughtful intent: the track beseeches listeners worldwide to spread love infinitely and hold dear every precious moment with family and friends. Lyrics soaked in optimism give wings to sentiment without descending into saccharine cliché; indeed, levity meets depth as "Merry Christmas" becomes more than just another seasonal tune—it’s an invitation extended by Happy Duke himself to reflect joyously on shared humanity. [caption id="attachment_53549" align="alignnone" width="2000"] Happy Duke’s “Merry Christmas”: A Song for the Season of Giving[/caption] This ditty does not merely lean back onto tradition but updates the playbook using 21st-century sonics—a soundscape diverse enough for universal appeal yet singularly magnetic. Picture vibrant splashes of brass meeting playful synth zaps; they adorn what could easily settle within any era's celebratory playlist. Whether you're adorned in ugly sweaters or swapping gifts by Zoom calls this year again—whatever your festive ritual—"Merry Christmas" claims its rightful space within your soundtrack. Like evergreen boughs festooned across mantlepieces worldwide or strings of twinkling lights seen from snowy streets afar—the track is super catchy while championing collective resilience during times when division runs rampant through societies fragmenting at their seams. [caption id="attachment_53547" align="alignnone" width="768"] Happy Duke’s “Merry Christmas”: A Song for the Season of Giving[/caption] From start to finish, mix-master expertise ensures each note under Happy Duke's directive delivers precision-calibrated joy—and let’s face it—that’s exactly what we crave during these pervasive cycles around sunsets shortening against evening skies soon sparkling aglow again with renewing hope each December returns us home anew. Spirit lifting? Check. Groove-inducing? You bet. A song celebrating love over conflict wrapped up neatly with a bow? It seems “Merry Christmas” has delivered right on time. Follow HAPPY DUKE on Instagram.
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Dirty Money's "Vice and Virtue": Authenticity Wrapped in Musical Fervour "Vice and Virtue," the latest EP from Dirty Money, is a rip-roaring ride through the ethos of rock's golden era, with the raw edge of modernity. Formed in February 2022 post-Chemical Pulse demise, Dirty Money wields their instruments like proverbial weapons of mass disruption: Spud Hudson on vocals delivers an anthemic roar that meshes seamlessly with Mark Walker’s shredding lead guitar. Ross Hutton's bass lines are not merely heard but felt in the gut, while Luis Silver hammers down a percussive thunderstorm behind the drums. https://open.spotify.com/album/0zQfTBIXVkUpTyOK24hL0E?si=5ZIPuHD_SAK0FIyWWPdW9Q The record tears open with "Play to Win,” sending out high-voltage signals that this is no passive listen—the grit of gravel underfoot and the smell of rebellion fill your senses. With only four tracks to make its mark, "Vice and Virtue" doesn't dally; it demands attention at every turn. Hudson’s lyrics are painted across vast canvasses that examine life in vivid strokes - sometimes broad sweeps questioning morality and fate; other times fine dots highlighting our hedonistic streaks. The storytelling furrows deep into one man's episodes amongst chaos yet maintains universality for listeners who’ve ridden similar highs and lows. Each track feels like cruising an electric highway—windows down, windswept thoughts dissipating in rearview mirrors—as we experience Midnight Suns,’ it resonates like Springsteen's fist-pumping energy met by Foo Fighters' sonic audacity. [caption id="attachment_53357" align="alignnone" width="1000"] Dirty Money's "Vice and Virtue": Authenticity Wrapped in Musical Fervour[/caption] What stands out starkly against contemporaries is how authenticity isn't forced; they breathe as much fire performing gut-busting ballads as they do delivering chest-thumping crescendos. It makes you wonder if these guys have lifetimes worth of experiences balled up into just over half a year together because what materialises feels anything but infantile—it roars matured insights wrapped in musical fervour. As "Ego," caps off this rollercoaster—a fun upbeat piece laced with nostalgia—you emerge roughened yet strangely hopeful amidst personal symphonies oscillating between vice and virtue. “Vice and Virtue” EP is Dirty Money’s gauntlet thrown at today's homogenized soundscapes challenging them with piercing guitars crafted on roaring riffs assemblage line—and rest assured, rock puritans to casual chart dabblers will wholeheartedly agree something visceral has been sparked here. Let there be no confusion: you don't listen to “Vice and Virtue”; you feel it—in every fibre until reverberations cease long after the last notes fade away. Follow Dirty Money on Website and Facebook.
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