#so whatever. behold! moi

[castielsupernatural]

fuck it. birthday girl stranded in various airports post

[ladyteatimexoxo]

Her. just... her. Marine𖹭///𖹭

the better Marinette( ._. )"" *gags*

so marine is my version of Marinette. I'm rewriting the miraculous plot lol and I wanted some place to post it so here you go.

⛧Things i believe She(marine) would say:

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰ ⊹ ࣪ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ๋࣭ ⭑────── ────── [In Class] Marine:Oh? No... um... don’t worry about me... I slept... I... think? Cracks open an energy drink can. ⊱ ────── ───── ⊰ ⊹ ࣪ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ๋࣭ ⭑────── ────── ───

[Sketching or painting her nails while on the phone with Alya] Marine: "Person of interest" is almost too flattering. Like, if the police were to pound on my door and go, "A man has been murdered in your building and you're a person of interest," I'd be like, "Moi? Oh, do go on." ⊱ ────── ───── ⊰ ⊹ ࣪ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ๋࣭ ⭑────── ────── ───

[Someone gets akumatized] Marine: What doesn’t kill me should run, because now I'm fucking pissed. TIKKI SPOTS-ON! TRANS-FUCKING-FORM ME. I have no time for this... WE HAVE A PAPER DUE NEXT WEDNESDAY! ⊱ ────── ───── ⊰ ⊹ ࣪ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ๋࣭ ⭑────── ────── ───

Marine: Okay, okay, Alya. Please stop asking me if I'm straight, gay, bi, whatever. I identify as a FUCKING THREAT. ⊱ ────── ───── ⊰ ⊹ ࣪ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ๋࣭ ⭑────── ────── ───

[Marine realizing she made an oopsie while fighting an akuma] Marine: Well, well, well... if it isn’t my old friend: the dawning realization that I fucked up bad. ⊱ ────── ───── ⊰ ⊹ ࣪ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ๋࣭ ⭑────── ────── ───

[Laying on her floor, talking to her cat, Minskey] Marine: When someone points at your black clothes and asks whose funeral it is, having a look around and saying, "Haven’t decided yet," is typically a good response. ⊱ ────── ───── ⊰ ⊹ ࣪ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ๋࣭ ⭑────── ────── ───

[When someone tries to insult her] Marine: BEHOLD, the field in which I grow my fucks! Lay thine eyes upon it, and thou shalt see that it is barren! ⊱ ────── ───── ⊰ ⊹ ࣪ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ๋࣭ ⭑────── ────── ───

[After being Ladybug for a long while] Marine: So apparently the "bad vibes" I’ve been feeling are actually severe psychological distress. ⊱ ────── ───── ⊰ ⊹ ࣪ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ๋࣭ ⭑────── ────── ─── Marine:Listen, Alya. Schrödinger’s cat is overrated. If you wanna see something that’s both dead and alive, talk to me anytime of the day.

⊱ ────── ───── ⊰ ⊹ ࣪ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ๋࣭ ⭑────── ────── ─── [Sees Lila enter the class for the first time] Marine: I’ve come to a point in my life where I need a stronger word than 'fuck.' ⊱ ────── ───── ⊰ ⊹ ࣪ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ๋࣭ ⭑────── ────── ───

[While fighting an akumatized victim]Marine: HAWKMOUTH! YOU! The man who runs his HAWK SIZED MOUTH about "GeTtInG OuR MiRaCuLoUs" almost 24/7! Yes, YOU! The stupid little man in your stupid little cave, did you really have to akumatize someone... ON A FUCKING MONDAY? REALLY!?

⊱ ────── ───── ⊰ ⊹ ࣪ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ๋࣭ ⭑────── ────── ─── [After purifying/de-evilizing the villain] Awkward silence... and heavy breathing from a tough battle. Marine: With great power comes great need to take a nap. Wake me up later. I’m gonna finally enjoy my weekend... Cya, Cat. Swings home, plops on her bed, de-transforms, and falls asleep. ⊱ ────── ───── ⊰ ⊹ ࣪ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ๋࣭ ⭑────── ────── ───

[Random conversation with Alya] Marine: Not trying to brag or anything, but I can wake up without an alarm clock now simply due to my crippling and overwhelming anxiety, so... ⊱ ────── ───── ⊰ ⊹ ࣪ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ๋࣭ ⭑────── ────── ───

[Lunch, Marine and Alya sitting together]Marine: Guess what?Alya: Don’t say it.Alya: We agreed to never mention it again!Marine: Alya~Marine: [ Starts losing it, Wheezing laughter]Alya: If anyone knew what we were talking about, they’d think we’re crazy.Marine: Crazy? I was crazy once... pffffff-Alya: My stomach hurts from laughing—oh my god—we have to stop bringing this up.Marine: NEVER!

⊱ ────── ───── ⊰ ⊹ ࣪ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ๋࣭ ⭑────── ────── ─── [Random time during December] Marine:Dear friends, your Christmas gift this year... is me. That’s right, another year of friendship. Your membership has been renewed... you guys cost me a lot of my social battery.

⊱ ────── ───── ⊰ ⊹ ࣪ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ๋࣭ ⭑────── ────── ─── [After class, very groggy, just woke up] Marine: Huh? What?... Oh... We’re done?... I swear it was still morning a second ago... Sorry... Pulled an all-nighter........... again..... ⊱ ────── ───── ⊰ ⊹ ࣪ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ๋࣭ ⭑────── ────── ───

[Alya presses her about a crush] Alya: Just tell him you like him. Marine: Really, Alya. What are you talking about? Alya: You like him, don’t you? Marine: No. N.O no. Alya: you sure you don't~? Come on girl~! Marine: No, absolutely not. Haha, no. Maybe... Marine: Yah... haha. No.

⊱ ────── ───── ⊰ ⊹ ࣪ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ๋࣭ ⭑────── ────── ─── [Random scenario] Marine: If you can’t beat them, dress better than them.

⊱ ────── ───── ⊰ ⊹ ࣪ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ๋࣭ ⭑────── ────── ─── [On parties] Marine: Honestly, the best part of a party is the part where I don’t attend.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀.　　　　　　　　　　⠀⠀⠀✦ ⠀ ⠀　　　　　　　　　　　　　　⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀* ⠀⠀⠀.　　　　　　　　　　. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀✦⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀.　　　　　　　　　　　　　.　　　ﾟ .　　　　　　　　　　　　　. 　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　✦ 　　　　　,　　　　　　　. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 　　　　　　*　　　　　　　　　　　. .　　　　　　　　　　　　　. 　　✦⠀　   　　　,　　　　　　　　　* 　　　　　⠀　　　　⠀　　, ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀.　　　　　 　　⠀　　　⠀.　 　　˚　　　⠀　⠀  　　,　　　　　　. 　　　　　　　　　　　　　. 　　　　　　*⠀　　⠀  　　　　　⠀✦⠀　 　　　　　　*　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　. 　　　　.　　　　.　　　⠀ 　　　　　　　　　　　. 　　　　　　　 　　　˚　　　　　　　　ﾟ　　　　　. 　.⠀　　⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀, 　　　*　　⠀. 　　　　　.　　　　　　　　　　⠀✦ 　˚　　　　　　　　　　　　　　* .⠀ 　　　　　　　　　　.　　　　　　　　. 　　　　　✦⠀　   　　　,　　    　　　　　　　　. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀.　　　　　　　　　　⠀⠀⠀✦ ⠀ ⠀　　　　　　　　　　　　　　⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀* ⠀⠀⠀.　　　　　　　　　　. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀✦⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀.　　　　　　　　　　　　　.　　　ﾟ .　　　　　　　　　　　　　. 　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　✦ 　　　　　,　　　　　　　. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 　　　　　　*　　　　　　　　　　　. .　　　　　　　　　　　　　. 　　✦⠀　   　　　,　　　　　　　　　* 　　　　　⠀　　　　⠀　　, ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀.　　　　　 　　⠀　　　⠀.　 　　˚　　　⠀　⠀  　　,　　　　　　. 　　　　　　　　　　　　　. 　　　　　　*⠀　　⠀  　　　　　⠀✦⠀　 　　　　　　*　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　. 　　　　.　　　　.　　　 　　　　　　　　　　　. 　　　　　　　 　　　˚　　　　　　　　ﾟ　　　　　. 　.⠀　⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀, 　　　　　✦⠀　   　　　,

[sarahisgay01]

Everyone always talks about it, but I’ve never seen it actually written

Do you think you can do Ronance smut, but with Nancy asking Robin to put on her old scoops ahoy uniform?

Yes I can! I most definitely can! I love love loveeeee this idea.

Minors DNI (18+ Only!!!!)

Please? For me? Part 1

Sub!Nancy x Dom!Robin

Notes: They’re in an established relationship, both of them have a praise kink, choking, bondage, eating food off of someone, degrading, overstimulation, crying

Part 2:

One afternoon, after school, Robin and Nancy went back to Buckley residence, since her mom was working late. When they got to her room, Nancy asked with her cheeks tinted pink and her voice sounding much shyer than usual, “Baby, can I borrow some of your clothes? You know, for when I miss you and stuff.” Robin looked at her with her eyes softened and replied, “Of course, my love. ce qui est à moi est à toi.” Nancy cocked her head to the side slightly, obviously confused on what Robin had just said. Even though she was confused, she couldn’t help the way her heart started pounding whenever her girlfriend started speaking one of the many languages she knew. Especially French. Robin smiled and said, “It means, what’s mine is yours.” Nancy’s tinted pink cheeks were now turning into a dark red and she mumbled back, “Any- Anything?” Robin replied, “Mhmm, whatever you want, angel.” Nancy smiled and immediately went over to her closet, while Robin moved to the bed, observing her. She picked out a couple hoodies and a couple t-shirts, then Nancy’s eyes saw something shoved at the very end of her closet. Robin watches as Nancy starts reaching her arm back there and she’s hoping that she’s not grabbing what she thinks she’s going to grab. Nancy’s trying with all her might to reach back and grab the hanger with her short arms. She grunts as she’s finally able to reach it and she pulls it out of the closet. Low and behold, Nancy pulls out Robin’s old ‘Scoops Ahoy’ uniform. Nancy’s always wondered if she’d kept it and she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t extremely excited that she found it. She’s had plenty of dreams of her girlfriend wearing it and she just loves the way Robin looks in that uniform. When Nancy finally turns around, she’s met with Robin’s face that’s now dark red. Nancy can tell she was clearly hoping that nobody would ever find it. In a sweet tone, not wanting to upset her, she asked, “You still have this?” and Robin wasn’t able to speak, she was far too embarrassed. She thought Nancy was going to make fun of her, but as she continued to observe her, she realized that’s not why she was so interested in it. Robin could tell by the way Nancy looked at it. Nancy couldn’t stop thinking about the thoughts and dreams she’s had about Robin wearing that uniform. After a minute of silence, Nancy asked, “Would you put it on for me?” Robin replied, “I uh- I don’t know, Nance”, but if Nancy wanted something, she was going to get it. She gave Robin her puppy dogs eyes and used her sickeningly sweet voice to say, “Please? For me?” Robin couldn’t resist, she’d do anything for the girl in front of her. So, with a sigh, she grabbed the hanger from Nancy, then went to the bathroom to change into her old uniform.

Robin was in the bathroom for a bit too long, so Nancy lightly knocked on the door. After she knocked, she asked, “Robbie, you okay?” Robin sighed and replied, “Yeah, I just- I feel like I look stupid.” Nancy asked sweetly, “Is it okay if I come in?” and Robin mumbled back, “I- I guess, yeah.” Slowly, Nancy opened the bathroom door and she was met with a better image than her imagination could think of. Nancy’s mouth hung open and her eyes were practically bulging out of her head. It was silent for too long, making Robin more anxious than she already was. She said, “I told you, I look stupid. I’m taking it o-”, but before she could even finish her sentence, Nancy’s lips were on hers. Surprised by the kiss, Robin pulled away and said, “You- You like me in- in this?”, then gestured to the uniform. Nancy nodded with her bottom lip in between her teeth. She took a step forward, until she was only a few inches away from Robin. She looked up at her, through her lashes, then said, “Is that a problem, sweetheart?” Robin’s cheeks turned red and she stuttered out, “N- No, not at- not at all. I was- I was just w- wondering.” Nancy grinned, loving the way that her girlfriend still gets flustered by her. She grabbed Robin’s wrist and lead her back into the bedroom, then locked the door. After locking the door, she turned around to face Robin and said, “Go sit on the bed for me, sweetheart.” Robin nodded, then moved to sit on the edge of the bed facing Nancy. She looked back into her girlfriend’s eyes and quietly gasped once she saw how her pupils engulfed her eyes. Nancy started walking closer to her and once she was right in front of Robin, she stood there, taking in the view. After a few seconds, Nancy climbed onto Robin’s lap and kissed her sweetly. Her lips traveled to her neck and she pulled away slightly, only to whisper in her ear, “Just so you know, you definitely don’t look stupid, Rob. You look so hot. Sooooo hot. In fact, you look so hot that I might just let you fuck me in that.” Robin gulped loudly and asked, “R- Really?” She had every right to question Nancy, as it was very rare that she let Robin fuck her. It was a privilege to fuck Nancy, something you had to earn, and she had no problem with that. Nancy whispered, “Mhmmm” and Robin replied, “Did I- Did I earn it?” A smile appeared on Nancy’s face and she moved her head back, so she could look into Robin’s eyes. She said, “Yes, you did sweetheart. You were such a good girl putting your uniform on for me, just like I said. You’ve done everything I’ve asked you too. Also,” and she pauses. Nancy’s cheeks turn bright red as she continues, “I may have had some uh- dreams about- about this.” Robin smiles and says, “Y- Yeah?” Nancy replies, “Mhmmm”, then plants a sweet kiss on her lips. Her mouth makes it’s way back to Robin’s ear and she whispers, “I want you to fuck me in your cute little uniform. I want you to be a good girl for me and make me cum, sweetheart.” She lightly bit her ear lobe, causing a quiet moan to escape from Robin’s lips. Nancy pulled her head back again, wanting make eye contact with Robin. She moved her hands and started fiddling with the red bow on Robin’s collar. As she was fiddling with it, in a condescending tone, she said, “Does that sound good, Robbie? You wanna fuck me while you wear your cute little uniform? You wanna make me feel good, sweetheart?” All Robin could manage to get out was a whine, saying “Please.” Nancy smiled in return and reconnected their lips in a hungry, heated kiss.

While they kissed, Nancy wrapped her legs around Robin’s waist and her arms around her neck. Robin’s hands grabbed Nancy’s ass, supporting her as she picked her up, so she could stand up. She moved them to where Nancy’s back was facing the head of the bed. They were at the foot of the bed when Robin lowered them down, until Nancy’s back hit the mattress. Nancy let go and opened her eyes to see Robin towering over her with a devilish grin on her face. Nancy looked at her with a smile and said, “What’re you thinking about, baby?” When Nancy’s eyes met Robin’s, all she could see were her pupils, barely any blue in sight. Robin said, “I uh- I really want to um- tie you up. Is that okay?” and Nancy’s breath got caught in her throat while her face was rapidly turning a dark red. She replied with a breathless, “Fuck yes.” Robin grinned and said, “I’ll be right back”, then rushed out of her room. Tying her up wasn’t the only idea she had up her sleeve, as she was getting rope, she looked in her freezer and found a pint of strawberry ice cream. Before she went back to her room, she grabbed a spoon out of her utensils drawer, then hurried up the stairs. As she was on her way back to her home, Robin realized just how happy she was that Nancy found her old uniform.

When she returns to her room, rope, ice cream, and spoon in hand, Nancy sees everything and gasps. She says, “Are you- Are you going to eat that off of- off of me, while I’m- while I’m tied up?” Robin grins and says, “Mhmmm, is that okay with you, baby?” Robin starts walking towards Nancy, who’s now sitting up on the bed. She stands a couple feet away from her, still holding everything in her hands, waiting for Nancy to say something, anything. After a few too many seconds of silence, Robin starts anxiously rambling, “We totally don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just thought it would go with the uniform. Forget it. I’ll go put this ba-”, but Nancy shakes her head and interrupts her. She says, “I do want to. I do. I really really do.” Robin replies back saying, “Yeah?” and Nancy says, “Mhmmm. I want you to be a good girl and tie me up.” Robin’s face starts progressively getting redder the more Nancy keeps talking. She continues on, saying, “Then, I want you to scoop some of that ice cream and put it on my body.” Robin let out a small, quiet whine and she can feel her arousal pooling in her panties. Nancy finishes her thought, saying, “And finally, you’re going to take that sweet mouth of yours and that perfect tongue, and lick it all off of me.” Robin loudly gulps again and her body feels like it’s on fire. She stumbles over her words, so beyond flustered and says, “I can- I can do that, Nance.” Nancy smiles at her and says, “That’s my good girl. You’re gonna make me feel so good, aren’t you baby? You gonna be a good girl and make me feel good?” She nods her head rapidly and says, “I- I promise, I will. I’ll make you feel so good, Nance. I’ll be your good girl, I swear.” Nancy gives a content hum as Robin goes to put everything she brought up, down on her nightstand.

After putting everything down, Robin makes her way back over to Nancy and puts out her hand. Nancy takes it and when she does, Robin pulls her off the bed. She says, “Can I take your clothes off, baby?” Nancy nods, then Robin grabs the hem of Nancy’s shirt and lifts it up and over her head. Next, she unclasps her bra and before she does anything else, she steps back to admire the masterpiece in front of her. After admiring her for a bit longer than she should have, she takes a step forward and connects her lips with Nancy’s. Nancy hums into the kiss, but that soon turns into a light moan as Robin starts kneading her breasts. Her lips start to move towards her neck and it doesn’t take long for Robin to find a tender spot to suck a mark onto her neck. As she’s sucking on her neck, her hands wander to her girlfriend’s jeans and she starts to unbutton them. Robin releases from the kiss, but only so she can kneel in front of Nancy and pull her jeans down. She helps her step out of them and once they’re off, her eyes move to focus on Nancy’s panties. Her pink, lace panties are absolutely ruined by the flood of her arousal in them. Seeing this boosts Robin’s confidence by a mile and she looks up at Nancy. With a grin, she says, “Somebody’s really wet, huh? Isn’t that right, Nance? Is this all for me?” Nancy whines while rapidly nodding her head and Robin says, “Use your words for me, baby. I know you can do it.” She whines and replies with a breathless, “Yes.” Robin grins and says, “There’s my good girl. Always so good for me, aren’t you, Nance?” A high pitched “Mhmmm” leaves Nancy’s lips while she rapidly nods her head again. Robin hooks her fingers underneath the waistband of Nancy’s panties and pulls them down, agonizingly slow. When they’re finally down around her ankles, Robin helps her step out of them, but keeps them in her hand. She stands back up and holds the panties in front of Nancy’s face. Robin says, “Do you see how wet you made these, baby? All because I’m wearing my old uniform. Mmmm imagine if I still worked there, I wonder how many times you’d pull me into the break room. Pull me in there cause you just couldn’t control yourself. You’re just a little slut for me in this, aren’t you, baby?” All Nancy can do in response is whine, but Robin can’t have that. With her free hand, she chokes Nancy, eliciting a strangled moan from her. Robin says, “Nance, I asked you a question, now answer it.” Nancy quickly says, “Y- Yes, I’m a- I’m a slut for you in your- in your uniform.” Robin chuckles, then lets go off her throat and says, “Be a good girl and go lay on the bed for me.” Nancy does what she’s told without hesitation and Robin goes to grab the rope she brought up earlier.

Robin’s bed was perfect for tying Nancy to, at each corner, there was a metal post. First, she took Nancy’s wrists and tied them to the top two posts, then she took her ankles and tied them to the bottom two. When she was done, she grabbed the ice cream and the spoon, then she climbed onto the bed. She positioned herself in between Nancy’s legs, sitting on her heels. Then, she opened the pint of ice cream and took a bite. She hummed at the taste and said, “Mmmm this tastes so good. You wanna taste some, baby?” Nancy replied with a whine saying, “Please.” Robin put the ice cream back on her nightstand, just for a second, and moved so her and Nancy’s faces were leveled. She leaned down and kissed Nancy, causing her to hum from the taste of the strawberry on Robin’s lips. Robin lightly bit Nancy’s bottom lip, eliciting a small moan from her, but also giving her the opportunity to slip her tongue into her mouth. She swirled her tongue with Nancy’s giving her a better taste of the ice cream that was about to be on her body. Robin moved her head back and said, “Tastes good, doesn’t it?” Nancy replied with a high pitched, “Mhmmm” and Robin said, “And it’s going to taste even better when I lick it off of you.” A whine was all that Nancy could respond with and while she whined, Robin moved back to sitting on her heels, in between Nancy’s legs. Once she was situated, Robin continued on, saying, “It’s going to taste especially good when I lick it off of these” and as she said that, she pinched Nancy’s nipples. In response, Nancy let out a loud moan and a breathless whine saying, “Please.” Robin chuckled and said, “Such a desperate little slut”, causing Nancy to whimper. She grabbed the ice cream and scooped a spoonful. Then, starting at the center of Nancy’s chest, she trailed the ice cream all the way down until it was at her hip bone. Nancy’s back arched up and she tried to pull her arms and legs closer to her body, but was obviously unsuccessful in her attempt. Robin said, “I thought you were gonna be a good girl for me, Nance. You and I both know that a good girl would stay still, right?” Nancy whimpered and said, “I’m- I’m sorry! I’m sorry, Robin! I’ll be- I’ll be good, I promise! I’ll be a good girl for you, I swear! I’m sorry!” Robin hummed, then leaned down to lick up half the stripe of ice cream and she stopped a couple inches below Nancy’s chest. Nancy loudly moaned, “Oh fuck, Robin”, loving the feeling of her girlfriend’s tongue on her body. Robin lifted her head and said, “I was right. It does taste better when I lick it off of you.” Before Nancy could respond, Robin was already continuing to lick up the rest of the ice cream. This time, Nancy moaned even louder, as she could feel Robin’s tongue getting closer and closer to her breasts. Robin sits back up and says, “You’re being such a good girl, baby.” Nancy whines and watches as Robin grabs the pint of ice cream again. She scoops another spoonful, this one a bit smaller than the last, and places it down onto one of her breasts, directly on her nipple. A loud moan, borderline scream, escapes from Nancy’s mouth. Robin grins, then leans down and kitten licks the ice cream off of it, keeping eye contact with Nancy the whole time. Once the ice cream has been completely licked up, Robin takes Nancy’s nipple into her mouth and sucks on it. Nancy loudly moans out, “Oh my god, Fuck Robin!” When Robin moves her head up, she makes sure to lightly graze Nancy’s nipple with her teeth and when she does, the sweetest, softest moan leaves her perfect lips. Robin takes another spoonful of ice cream and does the same thing to her other breast. When she’s done, she puts the lid back on leaves the ice cream on her nightstand. Then, she slides her body down Nancy’s, until her head is in between her legs.

I hope you liked it!!🥺💖

PS: (I couldn’t decide on who I wanted to be a Dom for this fic… Soooo, whoever reads this, if you’d rather have Dom!Nancy x Sub!Robin, I don’t mind writing that!! I’d of course change the plot and stuff, just let me know. Anywayyyy, thank you for reading!!)

[fieldsofplay]

Michael Gorwitz’ Top Albums of 2022

25.  Daphni – Cherry

Hello and welcome to 2022. You made it. We made it. Things kinda seem like they’re getting better, no? So what better way to kick off this annual survey than with a perfect little dance record, Daphni’s Cherry.  Daphni is the pure dance alter-ego of Dan Snaith, better known as Caribou (and once upon a time, Manitoba).  So if you ever wished the song craft would stop getting in the way of albums like Our Love or Swim, then Cherry is the record for you.  Side projects often let artists flex muscles that don’t get enough workout in their main gigs, and thus often provide simple pleasures in unadorned forms, and Cherry is no exception.  No one is reinventing the wheel here, but more importantly, nor is anyone trying to do so.  The first track “Arrow” tells it all, a steady, brisk beat, a fun vocal loop, and that’s it, but really, what more do you need to get your booty shaking? More importantly, that simple purple and pink cover is just too beautiful to behold, so it had to go first to set a lovely hue for all the good music to follow.

24.  Vince Staples – Ramona Park Broke My Heart

Vince Staples is approaching a similar place to Kevin Morby (see below) where his supreme consistency is starting to almost work against him.  Ramona Park Broke My Heart is Staples’ fifth album, and its just as perfect as the proceeding four, which does create a bit of indistinguishability with each successive release.  Unlike Morby however, Staples’ string of releases do chart more a stylistically-varied path, even if it’s a bit circular.  Summertime ’06 was the stark Clams Casino produced statement of purpose, Big Fish Theory was a fascinating detour into club beats, FM! was experiment in minimalism.  Last year’s self titled was the first without a formalistic construct, and thus felt closest to Summertime ’06, and this year’s Ramona Park is more of the same.  However, that same remains some of the best hip hop around.  The one-two of “Papercuts” into “Lemonade” are some of Staples’ best songs.  If this is what it sounds like to be in a rut, why not revel in a place of such excellent output.

23.  Toro y Moi – MAHAL

MAHAL is emblematic of a fun phenomenon, namely, where you pick up a release from artist you once cared about, but not a ton and haven’t checked in in a minute, and you’re pleasantly surprised that they’ve still got it.  Toro y Moi was simultaneously kind of a chillwave also ran, and also someone who seemed like would be around after the hype-wave crested.  MAHAL is definitely not chillwave, but it’s definitely good.  It has a 70s skronk to it, and a summer bounce, like T. Rex it’s equally good for a sunny road trip and to chill out to.

22.  King Gizzard – Ice, Death, Planets, Lungs, Mushrooms and Lava

Jam bands (whom I do not like) often try to cloak their musical meanderings in the intentionality of jazz, as if to say “we’re not bullshitting here, we’re engaged in serious praxis,” when in reality, they’re just hitting the bong, then the record button, and just going with whatever wanders out of their instruments.  This year’s King Gizzard album (I’m not typing that whole title out, banner year for long-ass album names, shouts Sufjan!) is dangerously close to being a jam-band record, but I’ll point to one key stylistic divergence.  Unlike a jam band pretending its playing a version of jazz, King Gizzard here are working in funk, with all the looseness, energy, and yes, jams, that that genre entails.  For generations, funk has given artists room to spread out, find a groove, and lock in, taking the listener along for the funky ride.  Am I splitting hairs? Perhaps.  But if you swapped out of the vocals on “Ice V” I think you’d be hard pressed to tell it wasn’t a deep cut from Sly’s Family Stone.

21.  The Reds, Pinks and Purples – Summer at Land’s End

When I write these lists I normally try and serve two masters: the first is the larger story of music in a given year, the second are my own idiosyncratic predilections. Summer at Land’s End is definitely me looking in the mirror and doing finger guns, and hey, its my list, so why not?  One of my favorite forgotten records of the last 20 years is Wild Nothing’s Gemini, and while Summer at Land’s End lacks that record’s uptempo jangle, it traffics in the same gauzy reverb guitars and sad structures.  As pop music and R&B continue to steamroll the “discourse,” I continue to light a candle for these little off kilter guitar albums.

20.  Sorry – Anywhere But Here

Sorry got a lot of hype two years ago for their debut 925.  Honestly, it never did much for me, it just kinda sounded like a band that liked the Yeah Yeah Yeahs as much as I did (not a knock, well it’s kind of a knock, but liking the Yeah Yeah Yeahs is cool).  Normally, that means I wouldn’t have paid much heed to their follow up, but when I heard it was breakup album, I was interested enough to give the band another go (I don’t know what it says about me that I thoroughly love a good breakup album, but here we are).  Less interested in being “experimental” for its own sake, and more focused on channeling those artsy influences into rock solid songwriting, Anywhere But Here takes Sorry’s conflicting interests in pop and trip hop and channels them into a rain soaked album (there’s literally a song called “Screaming in the Rain”) that surmounts the sum of its parts rather than always breaking apart into arch referents.  Take “Baltimore” for example, a tiny piano intro is passed along to bass and guitar, with the vocals hopping along in lock step with the bass in classic post punk fashion.  On Anywhere But Here, Sorry live up to the initial hype.

19.  Kevin Morby – This is a Photograph

As briefly discussed above with Vince Staples, Kevin Morby is fully a victim of his own consistency at this point.  This is a Photograph is arguably the best album he’s ever released, and if that’s the case, why is it down here at 19? The reason is by putting out great albums of similar sounding (or, at least, structured) music every single year, it becomes impossible for any one release to break through not only the crowd of music in a given year, but even amongst his own catalogue.  If this was Morby’s third release instead of his eighth (!) it might top this list, it’s that good.  Gelling all the elements that have come to define prior Morby releases, This is a Photograph stands as his best statement of freewheeling americana.  “Stop Before I Cry” actually moves me to tears, it’s that beautiful.

18.  Wild Pink – ILYSM

Wild Pink’s ILYSM is an interesting pair with Morby’s This is a Photograph.  Billed months before it came out as the band’s Yankee Hotel, that advanced praise actually proved to be a bit of a disservice, setting the expectation bar at unreachable heights.  However, unlike Morby’s eternal consistency, ILYSM actually does take some big swings at stylistic experimentation, which of course, are what generated those Yankee Hotel comps in the first place.  Opener “Cahooting the Multiverse” sets the stage perfectly, opening portals to different universal variants of this band’s maudlin country pop.  The music cuts out for a few off-kilter beats, backup singers join in, and the music warbles through processors.  “Cahooting” presents several different versions of a Wild Pink track, all withing the same song. The title cut employs a robotic chorus to chant the album’s mantra (“I LOVE YOU SO MUCH”), and the whole song comes off as the most interesting War on Drugs song in several years.  

17.  MJ Lenderman – Boat Songs

While Lenderman’s main act Wednesday made waves with Twin Plagues, it was their cover album Mowing the Leaves Instead of Piling ‘Em Up that caught my ear, and on his solo album Boat Songs he continues the drift into more countrified sounds evinced on Mowing the Leaves.  While his lyrics—fixated as they are on ‘90s sports icons—have garnered a lot of attention, I sometimes find them too cute by half.  What makes Boat Songs truly great is the way Lenderman is able to make big sounds out of low fidelity.  He gets a lot of comparisons to Jason Molina, and you can hear why.  These are capital “G” guitar songs that share Molina’s reverence for Neil Young and Dinosaur Jr., but whereas Songs:Ohia tracks usually collapsed back into themselves, Lenderman’s tend to burst outward from the speakers, taking the listener along for a ride through his twangy tales of Dan Marino and actual Dolphins.  

16.  Beach House – Once Twice Melody

Beach House have no business being relevant in 2022.  Perhaps it’s just because I’m old and they’re not actually relevant, but I’m still seeing lots of love for Once Twice Melody on the year end lists (though again I could just be reading the lame lists).  Except for the brief period when the band employed an actual human drummer, the band has spun gold from nothing more than Victoria Legrand’s narrow vocals & lush synths, stuttering drum machines, and Alex Scally’s slide guitar.  As all of the great bands of their (read: my) generation have slowly faded away into irrelevance (Deerhunter, Animal Collective) or broke up (the Walkmen) somehow Beach House remain at the same level they were at when their self titled debut first made me swoon way back in 2006. I’m not going to go so far as to say Once Twice Melody is their best album (Teen Dream still holds a special place in my broken heart), but the fact that its in the conversation is a testament to their unparalleled abilities.  “Another Go Around” is not only one of the best songs of their career, but a perfect encapsulation of this record’s place in 2022.  

15.  The Soft Pink Truth – Is it Going to Get Any Deeper?

The Drew Daniel half of Matmos continues his excellent recent run of form with the cheekily titled Is it Going to Get Any Deeper?  Whereas his last full length, the stellar Shall we Go Sinning so that Grace May Increase?, was devotional music disguised as house music, the equally questioning Is it Going to Get Any Deeper? worships at the altar of the dancefloor.  While I can’t imagine actually dancing for the entire 11 minutes of opener “Deeper,” this is house music in the sense of envelopment, of losing one’s self, if not always in the sea of the dancefloor, then at least in the gently undulating currents of the throb of the music itself.

14.  Pusha T – It’s Almost Dry

King Push is back.  Splitting production between Pharrell (😍) and Kanye (☠️) It’s Almost Dry is fascinating as it shifts back and forth between Neptunes-style slinky bangers (“Let the Smokers Shine the Coupes”) and vintage Kanye’s trademark chipmunk soul (“Rock n Roll”).  It’s Almost Dry is Pusha’s strongest release since 2013’s My Name is My Name, if not his Clipse days.  From top to bottom, this album is filled with songs that live up to the strength of the production.  While many knock his continued lyrical fixation on coke dealing, “Diet Coke” was probably one of the biggest songs of the year.  If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.  Beyond merely continuing a proven recipe, on It’s Almost Dry Pusha elevated his craft to its highest levels, constantly pushed there by Pharrell and Kanye’s first rate production.  

13.  Palm – Nicks and Grazes

These days it seems like the most interesting ideas in what used to be called good old fashioned indie rock are coming out of Philadelphia, but on seeing Palm live this year I realized the Philly band have more in common with Baltimore’s Animal Collective.  It isn’t necessarily that Palm sound like Animal Collective (they don’t really), but Palm meld ecstatic exuberance with odd time signatures and vocals that are more tonal layers than sense conveyors that is spiritually, if not sonically, akin Animal Collective in their heyday.  What was so cool about that Palm show was that it was readily apparent that this was a bunch of kids who grew up post Animal Collective and managed to import their spirit without aping their sound.  Sometimes seeing the torch passed from generation to generation can you make you feel ancient, but other times it makes you thrilled to see the youth pick up the spirit of something you once cherished and make of it their own.  So long as there are weirdos making fun music who barely seem to know how to play their instruments, there’ll be bands like Palm.

12.  JID – The Forever Story

In a year where Kendrick Lamar put out a (bad) record, it was JID who to my uneducated ear put out the most technically interesting flows.  While speed is impressive (see: Twista), and JID can unfurl 20 words in the time it takes zanax rappers to get out a single syllable, these aren’t speed trials devoid of rhythm or sense.  While a bit overstuffed at 15 songs with an hour runtime, on The Forever Story JID continues to match top notch chops with first rate story telling.  In a year in which Kendrick put his first foot wrong, give JID a chance instead.

11.  Panda Bear & Sonic Boom – Reset

Speaking of Animal Collective, even though Time Skiffs was well-reviewed, I had long ago given up on them doing anything of interest, which is totally fine seeing as they put out five consecutive albums that completely rewrote the possibilities of “folk” music.  (2003’s Here Comes the Indian through 2009’s Merriweather Post Pavilion).  It’s arguable that the most important album of that run wasn’t even put out by Animal Collective proper, but was Panda Bear’s seismic Person Pitch (2007).  While he continued to release great solo albums, often produced by Sonic Boom, like his main act, Noah Lennox seemed to be gradually receding from the center of cultural relevance.  While Reset doesn’t rewrite the fabric of pop music like his previous towering achievements, it does make you remember why we all fell in love with Panda Bear in the first place.  Pared down to pop perfection, songs like “Getting’ to the Point” and “Edge of the Edge” remind you that when Panda Bear gets his Brian Wilson on, there is almost no one who can write a better pop song.

10.  They are Gutting a Body of Water – S

Despite possessing the worst band name of 2022, They are Gutting a Body of Water put one of the year’s most interesting albums.  If you liked last year’s release from Spirit of the Beehive (a very narrow group of people) then S is precisely for you.  Without sounding much like them, They are Gutting a Body of Water remind me a lot of the Unicorns, but maybe that’s just because their lead singer also put out a hip-hop album this year. (Th’ Corn Gangg Anyone??? [This is a joke just for Brad Romsa if he is reading this]).  On S, They are Gutting a Body of Water (I can’t believe I have to keep typing that out, but I hate acronyms so here we are) are constantly shifting shapes, but most of the songs are sonically tied together by shimmering processed guitars that sound like they came from Broken Social Scene’s early records.  The songs that aren’t outright instrumentals often featured chipmunked vocals, or shoegazy coos that barely constitute “vocals” proper.  If you’re looking for 2022’s most sonically adventurous rock record, look no further than S.  

9.  Axel Boman – Luz

Along with Kornel Kovacs (whom I love) and Petter Nordkvist (not familiar), Boman founded the influential Swedish label Studio Barnhus. With Luz, Boman put out my favorite electronic album of the year.  Like the aforementioned Kovacs, and DJ Koze, Boman traffics in house music shot through with psychedelia.  The normally steady rhythms of house tend to bend and shift across the course of his tracks, as the music takes you more on a voyage of the mind rather than getting your hips moving.  Take, for example, penultimate track “Grape.” What starts out as a bouncy Herbert homage, gradually picks up cascading vocals, and then stuttering jungle, until finally dissolving as the sea of rhythms it had gradually built up begin to recede like the tide.  Each track on Luz is a journey,  so why not see where it takes you.

8. Anteloper - Pink Dolphins

2022 not only was a big year for jazz, it was a big year for Jeff Parker (see below).  On Pink Dolphins, the sadly dearly departed trumpeter Jaimie Branch and percussionist / electronics guy Jason Nazary (who combined constitute Anteloper) paired with Parker in the role of producer, to stunning effect.  If not for They are Gutting a Body of Water, Pink Dolphins would probably be the strangest record I’ve heard this year. The review I read compared the album to Live-Evil era Miles Davis, and that was basically all I needed to know.  Pink Dolphins is like a new age version of that Miles, and I’ve also read the album’s sound described as aquadelica (aquatic psychedelica).  The pairing of Anteloper and Jeff Parker is a match made in heaven, as he helps the duo push their sound out to the moon, where Branch’s trumpet functions more like a stab of noise rather than a source of melody.  On “Earthlings” the driving force of the song is Nazary’s scattershot drum beat paired with a haunting bass line, as a series of electronic effects and Branch’s understated but effective vocals swirl around like a whirlpool. Her trumpet doesn’t cut through the swirl of noise until about 4 and ½ minutes into the song.  It is terrible to comprehend that Pink Dolphins is the last thing we will ever get from Branch, but at least it’s a hell of a way to go out.

7.  Beyonce – Renaissance

We can keep this one short. You don’t need me to tell you anything about Beyonce. All I need to say is someone derisively said of lead single “Break My Soul” that “it sounds like C+C Music Factory.”  My only complaint with Renaissance is that I wish it sounded more like C+C Music Factory.  

6.  Yard Act –

The Overloard

Yard Act are the most british band on this list, by a mile.  There is just some sort of bratty nonchalance that only the Britsh can pull off, and The Overloard is soaked in it.  While most post punk—especially the vein currently back in vogue—is defined by dark brooding, Yard Act practice a different type of post punk always very close to my heart, the minimalist, strutting, arty variety perfected by The Fall, Wire, and Buzzcocks several decades ago.  So long as there is someone somewhere sipping a coffee, smoking a cigarette, reading a book (Kafka?) over the top of wayfarers perched archly at the end of their nose, but more importantly, always aware of the ludicrousness of such a pose, there will be bands like Yard Act.  According to internet-based statistics, “Dead Horse” was my most played song of the year, and there is no surprise there. It’s everything I love in a song and nothing else.  

5.  Big Thief – Dragon New Warm Mountain I Believe in You

For a folk-rock outfit that doesn’t exactly reinvent the wheel, Big Thief’s permanent position towards the top of this and most other lists year after year is fairly outstanding.  It’s not that their sound has changed from Masterpiece to Capacity to U.F.O.F./Two Hands to Dragon New Warm Mountain I Believe in You, but their sound has somehow gotten better with each successive release.  A sprawling double album in the truest sense of the word, Dragon New Warm Mountain is where it all should have gone wrong.  Their familiarity should have grown a little tiresome as they drowned in the sea of their self indulgence.  Instead, the name of their first album notwithstanding, Dragon New Warm Mountain stands as their clear masterpiece.  Like the Beatles on the White Album (which has become my favorite Beatles’ record as I’ve aged), here the double album format allows Big Thief to focus a little less on perfecting their folk gems and allows them to spread their wings a bit.  Like the Beatles, rather than resulting in a slip-shod series of half baked results, the looseness of the double album allows their genius to shine through all the brighter.  Top to bottom, start to finish, this thing is absolutely stuffed with perfect little songs.  For my money (which is none, because this is free) of all their small gems, “Certainty” is the best they’ve ever penned.  

4. Destroyer - Labryinthitis

Well Dan Bejar, you’ve done it again.  I have no idea what number Destroyer release this is (I just checked, it’s the project’s 13th!) but with Labryinthitis Bejar continues his recent run of excellent form.  Destroyer never really puts out bad records, but his sea of releases has crests and troughs just like any body of water controlled by the moon.  To my ear, those peaks occur every three or four albums or so (Streethawk, Rubies, Kaputt), and while I really enjoyed Have we Met, I think Labryinthitis is his best release since Kaputt.  Mixing the electronic textures of Ken and Have we Met with Kaputt and Poison Season’s chill, Labryinthitis is a culmination of all of Bejar’s recent preoccupations (see “June.”) If “The Last Song” were not only the cap to this excellent album, but to an outstanding career, it would be a fitting testament.  And as someone who once thought “I used to live in New York” constituted a personality, there is no biting line than “you wake up / you stand up / you move to LA / you’re just another person that moves to LA.”

3.  Cola – Deep in View

There’s a pretty easy test for whether or not you’ll love Cola as much as I do: does the phrase “the slow Strokes” appeal to you? If so, this is your band.  Formed out of the ashes of the occasionally great Ought, Cola take Ought’s nervous, angular guitar rock, give it a nice glass of white wine on a balmy day, and unwind that pent up energy into the best chilled out strummers this side of Julian Casablancas and Albert Hammond Jr.  At one point I declared Deep in View to be the “album of the summer,” and now with a little perspective I stand by my own dashed off opinion.  This is music for driving around with the windows down and nowhere in particular to go.

2.  Jeff Parker – Mondays at the Enfield Tennis Academy / Forfolks

If Alex G had the best album of the year (spoiler alert!), no one had a better year than Jeff Parker.  In addition to producing Anteloper’s Pink Dolphins as discussed above, he also put out two outstanding, and completely different, albums under his own name.  While I enjoyed Suite for Max Brown, Forfolks is the record that really got me into Jeff Parker (not counting all his excellent records with Tortoise of course).  Comprised almost entirely of looped acoustic guitars, it somehow sounds the most like Django Reinhardt of anything put out since the days of that unequaled gypsy.  While Forfolks is excellent, and would have made this list somewhere in here, Mondays at the Enfield Tennis Academy is Parker’s best achievement in a year filled with his excellent music.  Comprised of recordings from a two year period (presumably on Monday nights) at the LA cocktail bar (to which I have never been, but now hold in almost religious esteem based on my time listening to this record), Mondays at the Enfield Tennis Academy is one of the most hypnotic jazz albums I’ve ever heard.  Fitting in perfectly with Nala Sinephro’s excellent album from last year, this is ambient jazz of an entirely different variety.  The product of a quartet—Jay Bellerose on drums, Anna Butterss on bass, Josh Johnson on saxophone, and Parker of course on guitar—locked in to one another with laser-like focus, on these four recordings you can hear the air in the bar hum with the energy of their playing, and also the tinkling of the bar patrons’ glasses from time to time, which gives the album a lived in energy.   These songs are somehow simultaneously taught and languid, electric and unplugged, looping and driving.  Mondays at the Enfield Tennis Academy is the product of four players at the absolute heights of their powers, and probably the best “modern” (i.e. post 70s Miles) jazz record I’ve ever heard.  

1.  Alex G – God Save the Animals

Without having gone back through my records, I’m not sure a single artist has ever topped these lists more than once, but with God Save the Animals, Alex G has once again proven himself to be the best around (and lets be fair, if I was publishing these lists in the mid Aughts, I would have put every Sunset Rubdown release at number one).  It isn’t that God Save the Animals is somehow different from, or better than, House of Sugar, but instead it feels like a continuation of the slight turn Alex G took on that exceptional record.  While all his albums have trafficked in the same basic building blocks (pitch shifted vocals, acoustic guitars, little pieces of Elliott Smith without ever really sounding like Elliott Smith) on House of Sugar things got just a little bit weirder, and the results were absolutely stunning.  With God Save the Animals, I continue to be stunned.  While these songs seem fixated on God / the divine, Alex G never loses his connection to the here and now.  Before the album even came out my friend John sent me a live version of “Miracles” and told me it brings him to tears, which is perfectly understandable.  What is strange is that another song on the same album, “After All,” has the same effect on me.  To my ear, it’s not only the most beautiful song on the record, but one of the most beautiful songs I’ve ever heard.  In an album filled with God, blessings, and miracles, the truly divine thing is we continue to get more albums like this from Alex G.

[betweenthetimeandsound]

Three Minutes to Eternity: My ESC 250 (240-231)

#240: Joci Pápai - Az én apám (Hungary 2019)

"Hallom őt, az ő szívét a húrokon Látom őt, múló idővel az arcomon Az ő hitét büszkeség vallanom Ezeregy dalból ezt az egyet dúdolom, dúdolom"

"I can hear him, his heart on the strings I can see him, bearing the passing time on my face I’m proud to confess his faith Of a thousand and one songs this is the one that I hum"

If there's anything I love at Eurovision, is when someone sings a song from their soul. And in both of Joci's entries, he does just that.

Az en apam is a bit more sedate than his first entry (which will come soon enough), but it's calming and serene with substance. The lyrics, talking about his relationship with his father, is a touching and poetic tribute, one that people should really speak to their loved ones that care about them.

It's just a shame this song was the one to break Hungary's impressive qualifying streak; I thought they were on a path to win soon (though not with this one...). And they left the contest too; hopefully they will steer the ship back to more open waters and come back.

Personal ranking: 5th/41 Actual ranking: DNQ (did not qualify)--12th in the first semi-final in Tel Aviv

#239: Anna Vissi -- Mono i Agapi (Cyprus 1982)

"Η ζωή μας περνά, κι ότι φεύγει πονά Πίσω δε γυρνά, κι όμως κάτι μας κρατά"

"Our life passes by, and whatever leaves, we’re in pain It doesn’t come back, but something holds us together"

In most cases, the first entry somebody has sent in the contest is their best, with a number of exceptions here and there. Anna is one of them; I never liked her first entry, but her other two are fantastic.

Mono i agapi is quite lyrically simplistic--it talks about how love remains between two people, as the world changes around them. But the melody has a very loungy sound--I've heard it being compared to a James Bond theme. While I don't hear why it would be the case (other than the alluring mystery of this piece), it does give a calming vibe, and stands out in the rather mediocre field in 1982.

Personal ranking: 3rd/18 Actual ranking: 5th/18 in Harrogate

#238: Yardena Arazi -- Ben Adam (Israel 1988)

בן אדם הוא רק בשר ודם,” אבק פורח במדבר, בן אדם, בדרך העולם, כצל עובר, כחרס הנשבר "

“A human being is only flesh and blood, Dust flying in the desert A human being, in the way of the world Like a passing shadow, like broken pottery"

Yardena's time at Eurovision 1988 is best known for the anecdote where she goes to a fortune teller who said that song #9 would win that contest. When the draw occurred, Israel was slotted into that place, but was shafted up to #8 when Cyprus withdrew from having an already-released song. #9 would go to Ne Partez Pas Sans moi, which would end up winning and make history thanks to its singer.

This ends up taking away from the song itself; Ben Adam is reminiscent of older folk songs, but it takes off with its own character and flair. I also love the lyrics, which recognizes humans as flawed, without berating them as such. (We need a little bit more of that in the internet world, haha)

The flurry towards the end of the song was well-executed too, and the instrumentation is just fantastic. It feels like one was in a festival!

Personal ranking: 2nd/21 Actual ranking: 7th/21 in Dublin

#237: Amandine Bourgeois -- L'enfer et moi (France 2013)

“Tu m’as fait pleurer à vif Mon cou porte encore ta griffe J’aimais échanger de peau”

“You made me cry a lot You can still see your mark on my neck I used to like exchanging skin”

I love the dark sensuality of this song—with its blues influences, it tells a story of a relationship gone awry, but does so with sophistication. It starts out with a slick guitar line, which later devolves into a full on outrage against the lover at question.

The harshness of this song probably clashed with its opening spot, which is why it’s so underrated. Or it was because of Amandine’s styling...

Either way, it has grown on me since I watched the 2013 contest, and it gets the right vibes going...except with the lyrical story...

Personal ranking: 5th/39 Actual ranking: 23rd/26 GF in Malmo

#236: Ambasadori -- Ne mogu skriti svoju bol (Yugoslavia 1976)

"Ne molim da se vratiš Al’ molim te da pamtiš Voljela tebe samo sam ja”

“I’m not begging you to come back But please remember I only loved you”

Ambasadori was one of Yugoslavia's biggest groups, and they have a long list of who's who in the Bosnia music scene. I'm not familiar with their other music, but Ne mogu skriti svoju bol definitely highlights their artistry, along with the dark-pop take Yugoslavia had in 1970s Eurovision.

This song was initally my fifth place of 1976, but it has steadily grown until it became my fourth (knocking out Portugal in the process) The instrumentation conveys a dark mood, despite the upbeat strings and the poppy sound. There’s a grooviness in it to contrast the sullen lyrics, mourning for a lost love. It definitely stands out in the crowd; along with Ismeta's lack of makeup.

It got rewarded with a second-to-last place, which is way too low for this. And Yugoslavia withdrew for five years, and came back with a new sound...

Personal ranking: 4th/18 Actual ranking: 17th/18 in Den Haag

#235: Zibbz -- Stones (Switzerland 2018)

"Sins of the father make us fall And I can’t do anything about it"

2018 had a number of staging errors which cost several countries qualification. In Stones' cases, this wasn't the case.

Corrine has incredible stage presence, with a sense of strength and attiude as she struts on the stage. She definitely adds substance to this powerful pop-rock song, fighting against bullying in all corners of society.

To further that, she lights a flare at the bridge, which definitely hits the tone of the song home. Plus, it was an awesome moment to behold.

Basically, Zibbz did everything right--great song, thoughtful message, simple but impactful staging, and it still didn't qualify...While it has outgrown me a bit, it's still a total jam.

Personal ranking: 9th/43 Actual ranking: DNQ -- 13th in the first semi-final in Lisbon

#234: Kalomira -- Secret Combination (Greece 2008)

“An open book An open book, well, I'm sorry, I am not Sometimes I'm acting like a lady Sometimes woman, sometimes baby.”

"You maybe an open book Spongebob, but I'm a bit more complicated than that"

One third of the female-bop grouping in the 2008 contest, Secret Combination takes Greek instrumentation and American production to produce quite the gem. I could imagine Britney Spears singing this, but I also thought of the Cheetah Girls when I was listening to it. With a bit of sweetness and a touch of sexiness, Kalomira plays the different roles well--and has a cute moment when the book actually opens, revealing her in a really nice silvery dress!

Personal ranking: 7th/43 Actual ranking: 3rd/25 GF in Belgrade

#233: Avi Toledano -- Hora (Israel 1982)

"וגם ההורה, ההיא עם הה”א קולה עוד עולה, קולה לא נדם"

"And also the Hora, the one with the Hey Its voice still rises, its voice has not been silenced"

Israel had a particular style with songs from the 1980s--they are usually really energetic, with fun choreography in which everyone joins along. It makes for good results and good energy, especially when it's done well!

Hora seems to embody it in many ways, from the celebratory lyrics to the fun dancing across the really tiny stage in Harrogate. It combines Israeli folk music with a sense of joie-de-vivre, celebrating the nation (which as you will see later, may not work today...)

Avi earns himself a strong second place, but he would write something even better the following year (again, will come later)!

Personal and actual ranking: 2nd/18 at Harrogate

#232: Raphael Gualazzi -- Madness of Love (Italy 2011)

"Ma vedrai un altro me in un sogno fragile Riderai come se non ti avessi amato mai Cercherai un altro me oltre all’ombra di un caffè"

"But you’ll see another me in a fragile dream You’ll laugh as if I had never loved you You’ll look for another me beyond the shadow of a coffee"

Between 1994 and 2010, Italy withdrew from Eurovision, with only one participation in 1997. Nobody knows why, with reasons ranging from the rise of a televote to Italian disinterest in the contest, but they were certainly missed. Thanks to the late Rafaella Carra and a bunch of other circumstances, Italy came back in 2011, and they did so in style.

"Madness of Love" is frequently overlooked amongst Italy's post-comeback entries, as some of us aren't into jazz. I don't listen to the genre often, but I like this song particularly. It's flirty and sweet, under a very sophisticated soundscape which reminds me of a 1920s speakeasy. And while people are put off by Raphael's vocals, the way he lets himself go at the end of the chorus is definitely a highlight.

Basically, it's one of those runners-up that should've won against the winner of its year. But it was nicely made up for ten years later.

Personal ranking: 2nd/43 Actual ranking: 2nd/25 GF in Dusseldorf

#231: Anneli Saaristo -- La dolce vita (Finland 1989)

“Minä sammutin elämän janoa vaan Minä osasin onnea anoa vaan Jälkeen kaiken nyt saatan sen sanoa vaan La dolce vita”

“I was just quenching life’s thirst I knew how to plead for happiness After everything all I can say is: The good life”

La Dolce Vita sounds more stereotypically ”Spanish” than “Finnish”, because of its flamenco influences versus the dark pop or metal we expect from the country. Apparently, a lot of Finns travel south for vacations, which makes a bit more sense here.

Either way, it springs a bit of life and joy into a dark heart. It embraces life in its tropical vibe and Anneli’s deep vocals, and conveys a comfortable mood. Apparently, it was also known for Anneli's slight choreography, but I only noticed her standing during the instrumental.

It would be Finland’s last top ten result for many years, but the 7th place it got in Lausanne was deserved (and they should've done better, actually!). A fitting send-off for their long-time conductor Ossi Runne (RIP).

Personal ranking: 3rd/22 Actual ranking: 7th/22 in Lausanne

[anthropwashere]

deadfic: she sang to me a language strange 2

More deadfic for @goodintentionswipfest but this time some of y’all might recognize this one! I cut out ~2k of language strange when I posted it because it was even more of a hot mess than the rest that I just didn’t have the energy to wrangle. Now I have an excuse to still throw it in your faces with virtually no editing! 

Behold yet more bad times for Ed in the terrible werewolf AU (tw cannibalism, imprisonment, and a whole heck of mileage out of the word “fuck”). The key difference between this chunk and the previous chunk is in the pacing.

(Apologies for the bad Google Translate French. Again.)

(part 1)

=

A guard comes by with a bowl of mush, barks something at him but he doesn’t care, he refuses to care. The guard leaves. He doesn’t look at the bowl even though his stomach is a knot of nausea and hunger and he’s so fucking thirsty, he just wants a glass of water but he can’t remember the last time they gave him anything to drink.

The guard comes back with another guard, no, two more guards from the smell. They’re laughing. Oh, good, great, this’ll be fun. Can’t they just, fuck, give him a day or whatever amounts to a day down here? He’s tired, he’s so tired. He’s digesting the parts of Renée Poirier he didn’t throw up. Just stop, go away, let him rest.

One of the guards bangs on the top of his cage and they all laugh when he flinches. Another one must bend down because his rough voice is too close to the bars when he asks, “Qu'est-ce qui ne va pas, loup garou? Vous sentez-vous malade?”

He bares his teeth. Loup garou. Wolfman. They think they’re so goddamn funny.

They ask him again if he’s feeling sick, bang on his cage, ask him if he’s just feeling down, aw, poor wolfman, poor stupid Amestrian dog, is he sad? They heard him and the bitch chatting, does he miss his new friend? Well he shouldn’t have gone and killed her, eh? God, but the mess he made of her, makes a normal man sick it does! Like he enjoyed it—

“Shut up,” he snarls, or he means to say it in Amestrian but it comes out as nothing but a warning rumble deep in his chest. His teeth are too big again, too long, too sharp. How did Heinkel deal with this shit? How did any of them? They’d all always seemed so—controlled. Calm, cool, collected, whatever the fuck, the guards are banging on his cage more and it’s hard to think, harder than usual, what’s even fucking usual anymore. 

He curls up tighter, tries to calm down. Normal man, he thinks scathingly. Fuck off with that. The guards are all bargain bin chimeras too. They look human, sure, mostly, but their eyes shine wrong and their teeth are too sharp. Little tells that used to raise the hair on the back of his neck when he was still human. Now he knows better. Now he knows the guards were all changed as a precaution, otherwise one wrong move and any one of the prisoners could take a bite out of them. Even the playing field.

He can’t deny he wouldn’t be tempted to, if it were an option. He can’t deny he’s tempted to bite one of them anyway, never mind the hell they’d give him after. He has no idea if it’s something he would have thought of when he was human or if this is that fucking animal instinct Darius always loved to harp on about. He doesn’t know which is worse or which is more comforting. He just wants the guards to leave. They’re clearly not taking him anywhere, otherwise they wouldn't have started messing with his shackles, choking him, yanking on his bad leg, shit like that. They’re just here for a laugh. There’s nothing more obnoxious than guards with time to kill until their shift’s over.

One of them declares that the reason he made a mess all over the floor must be that he doesn’t know. The other two are astounded, my god, surely he must? Surely the Amestrian dog’s not so stupid as that? Wasn’t this one supposed to be smart, isn’t that why the brass wanted him so bad? How could he not notice something so obvious? Not used to good cooking, one of them suggests, and they all howl with laughter and start to rag on bland Amestrian cuisine for a minute, which, whatever, they can do whatever the fuck they want so long as they leave him out of it. 

Of course they don’t though. One of them pulls on one of his chains and he snarls, snarls louder when they pull harder. “Regarde moi,” the guard snarls back. 

They all know he understands them. His mistake. He should have realized the advantage he’d have if they thought he couldn’t string more than a where’s the bathroom together. Ah well. If wishes were horses, they'd end up as chimeras down here too. He doesn’t roll over—they’ve all driven that joke into the ground—just cranes his head over his sore right shoulder and bares his teeth up at them. He’s pretty sure that’s something he would have done as a human. It’s a mean comfort.

The nearest guard’s fangs dimple his lips when he smiles. He’s got old scars across his jaw and one cheek, like claw marks. Now there’s a fucking idea. The guard asks him if he’s stupid and barks laughter. 

“Stupid enough to get caught by you, I s’pose,” he says in Amestrian, because he doubts they can string even a where’s the bathroom together in his language. Either he’s wrong or they just don’t like his tone, because the guard yanks on his chain again. They’ve got him by the right arm and his shoulder throbs and threatens to pop out of the joint again. Fuck them, fuck the bastard who cut out his prosthetic clavicle, fuck the alchemists for not giving him a new one along with the leg they gave him, not like he wanted it but—fuck, fuck—

The guards laugh raucously above him. Fuck them. Fuck. Fuck. Ow.

“Regarde moi,” the guard says again, rattling the chain a little. Not enough to hurt, just enough to remind him who’s in charge. Ha. Like they ever give him a chance to forget. 

He glowers up at him and the guard asks if he really doesn’t know. “Sais quoi?” He grits out, exasperated. Just spit out whatever bullshit and leave him alone.

The other two guards are grinning too. The one on the left grins wolfishly, open mouthed with his too-thin tongue lolling. Must be the one not talking as much. 

The nearest guard yanks on his chain again and asks him what he thinks he’s been eating the whole time. He looks at him, baffled. What the hell did that—

Quicker than he can react the guard sticks his hand through the food slot and upends the bowl of mush in his face. He yelps, splutters, room temperature broth and soft meat clumps and cold potatoes and stringy gray vegetables spilling in his eyes and soaking his hair. He can’t see well enough to dodge the guard’s rough fingers, shoving something—meat, definitely meat—into his mouth. He bites down but the guard’s quicker; he only bites the meat, feels no satisfying—horrifying—crunch of bone. He swallows so he can snarl, but the guards all laugh and the nearest one says, “Tu as mangé du la chimère.”

He stares. They’re making even less sense than usual, and that’s saying something. He knows he fucking ate a chimera, he knows, he knows, he knows. Her name was Renée Poirier and she was a wolf like he’s a wolf, which is to say they aren’t wolves at all but they’re not human anymore either, and she’s not anything but past fucking tense because he killed her and ate her, and he killed her and ate her because the alchemists did—something—to him that made him want to kill and eat her. So what is this guard playing at?

“Je le sais,” he says, wary, flinching when the guards all laugh again.

“Non, non,” the other guard says, the one who doesn’t laugh like a dog. “Now.”

He shakes his head, not understanding—

—but he does. 

The lumps of meat on his chest, on the floor of his cage, in his stomach—they came from another chimera. Someone like him. A person. They’re feeding him people, they have been the whole time and he never knew, he never knew all this time he’s been eating—he’s been cannibalizing—

“No,” he whispers. “No. You’re lying—”

“Not a lie,” the second guard says, grinning crookedly. “All eat the same. Always.”

The guards bark laughter one last time and then finally, they leave. 

He shies away from the clumps of meat cooling in his cell, curls up tightly in as close to a corner as his chains allow. No, he thinks—begs. No. They’re lying. All this time, trapped down here in this freezing hell, weeks or months, his life sustained day after day by the other—no. No. It’s wrong. They’re lying. They have to be. Just another ugly trick. Please.

Time passes. The mush caught in his tangled hair cools and clots. Nothing fresh is brought, no one comes to bother him at all. He doesn’t eat no matter how much his stomach growls. They lied. He knows it’s a lie—but what if it’s not? What then? He gets so hungry. He’s so tired. But he can’t. He can’t eat. Someone will come for him. They have to find him. Soon. Please. S'il te plaît. They’re wrong. They lied. Please.

=

He hears the bitch before he smells her, and he smells her before he sees her standing in the open doorway of the narrow little room his cage is kept. He growls and doesn’t mind the purely animal sound that bubbles out of him. She’s the one who made him this. It’s her bite on his leg that made him this. 

The bitch sighs. “The guards say you are not eating.”

He growls louder, deeper, rolls onto his hands and knees—grinds his fangs together to keep his pained yelp unuttered when his left knee hits the cold metal too hard—and glares a challenge at her. He sets the scrap of humanity left to him aside, folds it up small and hides it away where she can’t set her teeth to it. She doesn’t deserve to see it when she’s the one who did this to him.

“You need to eat,” she says. Yeah, she would say that. Pretending like she cares about his well-being when she’s the one who tore him open to allow his humanity to bleed out. Look at him, he growls. Fucking look at this hobbled, toothsome thing he’s been reduced to. It’s all that’s left of the man he was, and it’s all. Her. Fault. Fuck her. She’s proud of what she did to him. Never said it plainly but he can smell it on her. Pride in a job well done. What a bitch.

“Fine,” she says. “Don’t eat. I don’t care. Die and be done with it.”

He cackles, high and shrill. “Yeah? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

She bares her teeth—too long, too sharp—in a humorless grin. “I would. My superiors would not, however. They have high hopes for you, Fullmetal.”

“That’s not my fucking name.”

“What horrid language. You never fail to disappoint.”

His skull grew faster than the rest of his face so he can’t really grin back, but whatever face he’s managing to make at her is a nasty thing if her own expression’s anything to go by. Then again she always has this look about her like she just stepped in dogshit. Maybe that’s just how the other alchemists put her back together, he doesn’t know. 

The bitch takes her left hand out of the pocket of her white coat. She’s got a syringe full of something clear, something slightly tinted green. He’s seen it twice before, but both times he was more animal than person, more eager to bite than to ask questions. This is the first time he’s been sane enough to wonder what the fuck it is.

“You need this,” she says. “You will die without it.”

He laughs, loud and barking, pitching higher into a howl that sets off the other wolves that aren’t wolves on this floor. He hears their manic fear mirroring his own and finds relief in it. He’s not the only one down here like this, this half-thing, this twisted up monster, this chimera full of teeth and fury hungry for the excuse to bite. He grins wolfishly, slitted eyes and bared fangs. “Fuck you,” he says, and finds gladness in the unhappy curl of her mouth.

“You’ll eat,” she says, brandishing the bowl of mush in her other hand that may or may not be chopped up people-chimera. “You’ll take this,” she says, brandishing the syringe so it catches the light spilling in from the hall. “ You’ll accept both or you’ll die.”

“Fuck you,” he says again. “Go take a flying fuck over the goddamn moon.”

Her snout—nose, she’s got a nose, she still looks human enough for a nose, she’s got better control than she does and fuck her for that too—wrinkles. She walks into the room and he snarls louder, feels hackles rise all down his spine, feels his bones creak and muscles strain. He doesn’t want to change but he fucking hates her enough to make the pain worth it. She closes the gap anyway, cold and confident and just out of reach of his paws—claws—whatever. She slides the bowl of mush over, just outside the narrow gap in the bars of his cage. She holds up the syringe, twists it between her fingers. Her fingernails—no, sharp enough to be called claws—tick and tap carefully against the glass.

“I mean it,” she says. “You need this. Every six days, the same as me. Seven days, you’ll start to go insane, almost as much as you did in the pit—” He flinches. She grins. Bitch. “Eight days, your body will start to tear itself apart. The shape you’re in? You won’t live nine days. This is not a threat. It’s fact.”

“Yeah?” Hard to talk with how long his teeth have gotten, how long his snout’s grown. He growls low and knows she’ll understand him. There’s a fine line between personhood and the monster she made him, and monsters can all understand each other just fine. “And I’m supposed to believe you?”

“I don’t care if you believe me or not,” she replies. “They’ll show you the truth of this, if you survive the pit.” 

He flinches. She grins. 

She pulls something out of the other pocket of her coat, a thin wooden shape with curving pale carvings. “You take your dose, or I get a guard to come in here and blow this.”

He squints at the wooden shape until it makes sense. It’s a whistle.

Le sifflet, the dark shape of the thing that used to be Renée Poirier whispers in his memory. His memory fractures, splintered by a high, thin scream of noise and pain that tore the scrap of his humanity, that last bit of him that can still call itself Edward Elric-Rockbell, out of the beast and left it to hang.

The bitch grins wider. 

He shakes his head, shrinking back until his spine is pressed painfully against the bars nearest the walls. “You’re lying.”

“Of course not,” she says. “The truth is far more useful.”

White grins in white spaces. Yeah. Isn’t it just.

“Tell me what’s in the syringe.”

“It’s necessary.”

“Fuck you. What’s in it? What’s it gonna do to me?”

She sighs impatiently. “Consider the fact that you are dying as we speak.”

[dbhilluminate]

DBHI: Equilibrium, ch. 13 - “Periapsis” (pt. 2)

Characters: Noah / “Erwin Yvonne”, Gabriel / “Vincent Sharp”, Special Agent Gavin Reed, Director Thomas Falken (mentions of Hannah, Emilya, President-Elect Kamski, Connor, Zach) Word Count: 6,578

Noah crashes an undercover FBI operation to say hello to a friend he hasn’t seen or spoken to in a couple of months, but the mood is spoiled when the Zionist Inquisition shows up to deliver an ultimatum to Vincent Sharp, and issue a threat to anyone who would dare support the installation of an android suburb in Washington, DC.

***For a glossary of world-building terms relating to this series and chapter, click here.

(Chapter Art by ozaya, Co-authored by @grayorca15​)

• Chapter Index • Characters • Glossary •

——

December 23rd, 2041 - 10:07 PM

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing, but then again, if had known Noah was in town, he would have expected him to pull a stunt like this. It never had been his style to keep his nose out of his business, even if it was work-related. Especially if it was work-related.

“You should have known better than to tell that peacock to stay away from the perfect opportunity to crow,” Gabe retorted with an audible groan as he reached for the drink and stared into the glass. By now he knew him well enough to know that telling Noah Maitkin not to do something was a surefire way to guarantee he would do exactly what he didn’t want him to; unfortunately, that knowledge had not yet transferred to his handler. It had been different when he had the structure of Archangel to keep his bratty impulses in check, but after Boston and the outbreak, he was so rattled to the core that the thought to cut corners almost never occurred to him anymore. So the fact that he was here, now, in spite of that, meant one of two things- Either he was feeling like his old self again, free of any legal constraints his former occupation once imposed, or this was yet another sign the RK900 needed a shitton more therapy and conditioning to be considered stable again. Just what good did he think charity-crashing would do?

Falken’s rage seethed in the background as he and Gavin continued their back and forth. All it took was his tone for Gabriel to picture with perfect clarity, the piercing, emerald-eyed scowl set in deep sockets, shadowed by his strong brow. It wasn’t a look anyone wanted to find themselves on the other end of, especially not if ‘Tomahawk’ was looking for a good fight, which was the intent of being present that evening. He had wanted to be there in case something went awry so he could take care of it himself. Any reason to fight got him excited- you could take the kid out of Boston, but Boston’s fury came with him. Reed groaned in defense as the conversation wound down. “He must’ve snagged the address from my laptop when I wasn’t lookin’ when he stopped by. FUCKIN’ Androids…” “Yeah, well- great job on keepin’ this shit on the down-low,” he mocked, “Keep me updated on his position. Serrano is making his approach-” “Uh, yeah, about that...” Before Reed could get the warning out, trouble had sat itself in the vacant space beside Gabe to lean down and knock an elbow against his arm.

Hey there. Not gonna toss me like a rag doll this time, are you?

Gabe wrestled with every ounce of self-restraint available to not roll his eyes but failed miserably. It was definitely him, the glitter in his hair and the coy little smirk playing at his lips were the deadest of giveaways; but, as tired as it made him feel to look at, Noah seemed a far cry better off than the last time they’d spoken on the phone, just after he’d been let go from Archangel. Being noticeably sober helped tremendously, too. “What are you doing ‘ere, mon chéri?” Gabe scoffed in a perfectly practiced accent as he lifted the glass to his lips. “Pft. What does it look like, monsieur?” The mocking inflection pinned at the end seemed as genuinely annoyed as it didn’t; it was unclear if it was Noah speaking or his assumed identity, it had been a long three months since they had last seen each other. Noah waited all of three more seconds for an answer before he leaned in again, shoulder to shoulder, elbow to elbow, uncomfortably close, as he always tended to get. The smirk didn’t abate. “I’ve counted all of one old friend of yours in this room, and you can’t even greet me…? The least you could do is say hello.”

Get. Him. OUT OF HERE. Falken didn’t hesitate to let him know where he stood on Noah’s interference in the matter, but Gabriel brushed off the disgruntled agent’s protests with a scoff. He’d handle Noah himself, but first, he had a few questions.

I mean, why are you in DC? he tried again as he slipped deep brown eyes aside to peer over the tops of his glasses at him. “Are you ‘ere to make a donation? Or did you just come to’ave a drink with moi?” The French-Canadian accent didn’t waver- Gabriel’s alias was a complete overhaul, head to toe to voice, all of which made Noah giddy as a schoolgirl. To his credit, he kept his own mask under control. “Oh, honestly, you can stop playing coy any time now, Vinnie... it wasn’t like I added myself to the guest list.” Whatever surprise he must have felt, Noah covered it by drawing back to playfully bat at his arm again. “Trust me, your doormen were just as surprised to see me as I was to get the invite.” The tip of his tongue passed subconsciously over the point of his canine tooth as his gaze lingered on the peculiar choice in corsage instead of the undercover agent’s face. If he didn’t know any better, the tuft of Mistletoe was as good as a dare, but the pause he took to appreciate it would have to suffice for acceptance. With a small sigh, he popped both brows and resettled his gaze. “Drinks, donations, I’ll get to it when I get to it. You know better than to rush me.” Privately, he sounded much less cavalier: Is the ‘why’ really important? It really wasn’t, as much as the answer to why he was there, but the answer to both worried Gabe in equal measure. Why aren’t you with Hannah?

Put on the spot about his markedly-better half, the playfulness deflated. It was no secret Noah hadn’t been at his significant other’s side throughout the majority of the campaign (too caught up with his own investigations until two months prior, when he’d been fired from Archangel for his behavior at a press conference following the Red Raids), and the speculation as to why ran rampant. Now, given the way his jaw went tight and the smirk became a bit strained, it was fair to say tonight wasn’t all champagne and canoodling behind the political scene. Instead, here he was. Yvonne leaned in again and blatantly tried to shrug it off, propped one elbow up, and bumped a knee against Gabe’s beneath the countertop, face tilted to one side to peer upward through the tops of his eyes. Uh, because she’s booked, as you can imagine. Working on post-election nonsense with the President-Elect- meet-and-greets, what else? Anyway, I’m here now and I want to help. Which was essentially code for ‘this affair sounded infinitely more exciting, so behold- myself’. “There’ll be time for commiserating later.”

NO, don’t let him stick around- Falken is chomping at the bit to get out there and pull him out himself. If he has to do that, it won’t be pretty.

“En fait,” Vincent replied with a far-off look in his eye that was actually directed over his companion’s shoulder at his slowly approaching target; luckily, Serrano had stopped to converse with another familiar face for the moment, so Gabe shifted focus back to the man at his side. You haven’t been briefed and you’re not prepared, he scolded in a neutral tone, more factual than condescending, in an attempt to dissuade him from staying. This man has been investigating me for two months, and tonight is my chance to find out if he’s connected to the Zionist Inquisition. Anything you say or do could trace you back to my real identity, and that would destroy all the work we’ve put in on this case. Do you have a cover story…? A well-established alias…? The smirk dropped, as did another degree of humor in Noah’s eyes. Maybe he realized the gravity of the situation, or maybe he wasn’t as into playing the incessant flirt as he used to be. Either way, the seriousness amped up to compensate. Please. You think it’s the first time I’ve had to fake it to the inth degree to get close to someone? Just ask Miles next time you’re in Miami. Noah paid a brief glance over his shoulder before offering one hand with the skin peeled back. “Bygones be bygones? I can keep my joy at seeing you again limited to a handshake if that’s more your speed.” Not to mention it would make trading read-only files regarding each other’s disguises a cinch. Gabriel exhaled through his nose, closed his eyes, and reached out one of his gloved hands to set over the top of his. “C’est… d’accord,” he assured, his accent softer than before. “I just did not expect to see you tonight.” Fingers curled softly around Noah’s as he flattened his palm against the countertop- beneath the fabric, the skin on his hand peeled away to initiate the exchange of dossiers, but a quick glance told him he was donning a well-loved persona, one he was already quite familiar with from old Archangel files. “South Miami is a long way from DC, monsieur Yvonne.”

The protesting from the other end of the connection simmered down as the story came together. From the sound of it, Gavin had already realized what he knew.

‘Yvonne’ smirked again. If it wasn’t a wide, mischievous leer before, it was now. He read through the false identity of Vincent Sharp in a second and apparently liked what he saw. “Not necessarily. You only wish it were true, right? Far enough to think making an in-person contribution would be too big a request...? But my dear- it’s Christmas, and when was the last time I had the opportunity to see you?” You skipped the part about making ‘Vincent’ seem like a person, he chided with an unspoken ‘tsk’. Where’s the subsection titled ‘love life’? Gabriel narrowed his eyes ever so slightly, looking more skeptical than scowly like he’d intended. They didn’t think it necessary for someone so focused on business to be in a committed relationship, he quipped back as he forced a curling grin. “You would choose ze holidays as an excuse to venture north… and a cocktail party to try and reconnect.” Gabe’s focus darted down as Noah’s fingers spread to thread with his. It seemed he already had plans for what to make of their shared history, and he wasn’t sure he approved. The nonverbal suggestions he was sending made him uncomfortable. Vincent drew in a nervous breath and tilted his head with a soft shake, but Yvonne persisted. “Please… like I’m the first man in history to ever stoop to that tactic,” he drawled, not sounding abashed at all, and gave his hand a squeeze as he lifted and planted a soft kiss on the man’s curled-over knuckles. “You make it sound like a crime.” All puns intended, for the record.

He could hear Falken’s dissatisfied bitching in the background of Gavin’s warning. He’s dressing, you’ve got about ten minutes before he storms in there like goddamn Hurricane Tommy and forcibly removes him. A timer helpfully projected itself over the upper left corner of his HUD, counting backward from ten. Just… just give me a minute. Hold him off for as long as you can. I’m tryin’.

‘Vincent’ swallowed hard and turned his eyes down in shame as he switched back to his conversation with Noah. This is your idea for our shared history…? Why not…? You don’t think you could hack it? Noah’s brow furrowed and the smile faded to better sell the lie, though there was a thin layer of truth to the question as well. “...are you still embarrassed to be seen with me?” Vincent’s lack of response, and eye contact, told him everything he needed to know. Palpable irritation announced itself in the form of pursed lips and a tightened grip. Yvonne met it with a long-suffering sigh. “Oh, come now- you’re practically funding the founding of Zion, DC yourself... you can’t tell me that isn’t because you’ve had a change of heart on the matter of-...” For a moment he hesitated. Noah’s chin quivered noticeably before he added, “... didn’t you miss me even a little?” An equally-heavy sigh escaped his companion in response, and he glanced out of the corners of his lenses to stare at their hands. It was no coincidence that particular bit of improvised backstory, he drew from reality. The intent, even with roles flip-flopped, wasn’t altogether different. Now Gabriel was the respected investigator and Noah was the pariah no one wanted around. Since the Raids, any contact between them had been sparing at best, and when it had happened the mood was never totally reciprocated by either party. Being the same model didn’t necessarily mean their opinions were destined to line up perfectly, if anything, in their experience, agreeing on anything had been a lot of hit or miss, much in the same way Connor and Zach had butted heads over casework. And if he was keeping score correctly, Noah would have to admit most of the misses were his doing. But who was he if he wasn’t complicated? Prone to dramatics under the right conditions? Enigmatic beyond what he was cognizant of? The same could be said for Gabriel. He was simply better at hiding it. Like now. I’ll lay off the innuendos here, I promise. I just- I want to help. I know my timing is atrocious, but if there’s anything, any advantage to be had, I have to play with what I know how to do best. And whatever that may be, you know it’s not the worst thing you’ll have ever suffered. Is it?

Brown eyes gazed back at him, caught between conflict and concern. He wasn’t wrong- sometimes selling a story was more about grounding yourself in the part of it you could relate to, and Noah sure could flirt up a storm when he was in the mood. As much as he hated the way the nature of said attention made him feel, it wasn’t as hard to deal with as it once was, and if he was offering to- Gabe stopped mid-thought to back up on the realization as it finally hit him. He’d known it long ago, once upon a time, when the mere thought of being on amicable terms with the man-made his skin projection crawl. But in that moment, little more than a year later, it didn’t bother him the way it used to. What you know best…? A sudden prickle of gently insisting input flowed between them as he asked the question, and he waited, transfixed for an answer that didn’t come. The normally-animated face of his counterpart had gone absolutely still- no flexing eyebrows or narrowing of the eyes or tensing of the jaw. Without micro-expressions somehow undermining the sincerity of his words he actually managed to impress as stoic. The ‘incessant peacock’ wasn’t what he used to be, in more ways than one, and it took seeing him in person to really be reminded of it. ‘Vincent’s brows pressed together harder, the longer the silence persisted between them. Does that mean you…? “Ahem.”

Gabriel blinked out of his daze to refocus his attention on the owner of the new voice before realizing that Serrano had been standing behind him for at least a full minute already. But it didn’t hide the flush in his cheeks. “Am I… interrupting, Mr. Sharp? Should I come back later?” Vincent stuttered. Of all the ways he could have responded, a true, blue, genuine stutter wasn’t on the list of expectations, but there it was. “N-non-! No, excuse, monsieur, I- I apologize, but I must-“ Noah took the hint and let go of his hand as Gabe pulled away at last to grasp the drink that had been waiting patiently for him to return to it. The ice cube clanked quietly against the walls of the glass as his arm trembled. “We can… continue zis conversation later?” Instead of finding an excuse to bail out of the situation, Noah shifted focus to the loitering newcomer with one eyebrow angled up in a picture-perfect attempt at inquisitiveness. “Later? But we’ve only just begun,” he whined in protest, though when it failed to move anyone to react more than with stunned silence, he sighed, reached for the man’s hand and clapped it between both of his. “By which I mean, don’t let me get in your way, Mr…” “Serrano.” “Mr. Serrano- I’m sorry for waylaying Mr. Sharp from attending to you or his other guests. I only meant to take a minute of his time, but-”

WHAT IS HE DOING!? Stop him…!

Noah paused, mid-exposition to glance aside at Gabriel’s nervous expression. “Well, relatively, maybe I should have taken five… one could have done the job, but would it have been enough? Was that not Einstein’s whole ramble on relativity?” The older gentleman smiled as he shook his hand and shifted a leery glance to Mr. Sharp, who stood leaning against the bar, cold-clocked by this sudden turn of events. “Not to worry, my boy- Mr. Sharp has already been the focus of many people’s attention this evening… but I will say… you, by far, have incited the most interesting reaction out of him.” Gabe rolled a grumble to clear his throat, turned and interjected himself into the conversation before he could make any assumptions. “Monsieur Yvonne is a… friend, of mine. We met in Miami when I was on a business trip three years ago.” “Physically met, yes, but I’ll not split hairs too finely on that subject.” You just did, he grumbled in response over their frequency as he took a deep sip of the drink in his grasp. Noah let go of Serrano’s hand at the brazen remark and smothered the urge to sigh out loud. That’s the most basic division of the topic there is. I didn’t say I would keep going. The cover could do without launching into immediately redefining deviancy and when it set in for him. By now it was typically seen, for an android, to be as droll as talking about the weather. “We’ll have time enough to catch up properly once you’ve made your rounds again. The event isn’t going to run itself.” “Oui.” One hand lifted and softly set on Gabe’s shoulder as he leaned forward and planted a kiss on his presently bearded cheek, careful not to linger so long as to make their guest feel uncomfortable. But as he pulled away, the man’s face turned to longingly chase his retreat, and eyes dared to follow after a short pause. Whether his desire for the prolonged moment was genuine or part of the act, it suited their growing cover story, and gave Noah a reason to smile. Serrano, knowing or not, offered the reassurance their aliases needed. “I promise I won’t keep him for too long so you can get back to your conversation.”

“On the contrary. Take all the time you need. I need to contemplate a few sums anyway.” As you were, Gabriel. Just pretend I’m not here if it helps. Cough twice if you need to tap out. I can always serve a good mislead in a pinch. Noah traced the curvature of his arm as his hand slid off of Gabe’s shoulder, down his elbow and forearm, then plucked the mostly-finished glass of ‘scotch’ out of his slack fingers, much to the dumbstruck look on his face, and raised an eyebrow at the depleted contents. “If you would, please, love,” he gestured to the woman behind the counter as he propped an elbow on the mahogany to hold the empty glass up to the loitering, wide-eyed barkeep. “No sense dirtying another one on my account.” Whatever odd reactions the move earned him, Yvonne had no compunctions about sharing, and he wasn’t going anywhere without a refreshment for the trouble. If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought Gabriel was blushing for real.

The poor brute barely had time to pick his jaw up off the floor before he had to shift gears again and prepare for an entirely different sort of conversation… or so he thought. “An Android lover, Mr. Sharp…? Now that is unexpected… and a man, no less- no wonder you arrived unescorted this evening.”

Gavin’s snickering on the other end of the two-way mic would have thrown him into a rage any other day. Oh- Emilya’s going to love this… Gavin- not the time.

Already Serrano’s approach was much more cavalier than in any of their past encounters. It seemed the glimpse into the personal life of his alias had been enough to either convince him that he was a trustworthy, three-dimensional person, or he felt that this was dirt enough to use as blackmail material should he one day need it. Either way, it had relaxed him, perhaps the intrusion hadn’t been a complete disaster after all.

Keep playing that angle, Gavin coaxed in his ear. If it keeps him talking, circle back as many times as you have to. It’ll help humanize Vincent Sharp. As if Androids needed to be further humanized.

Gabriel illustrated a picture-perfect look of distress as he dry-swallowed then slipped one finger into the collar of his shirt and gave it a gentle tug. “I hope you’ll excuse Monsieur Yvonne… he can be a little, ehhh, how you say… much.” He finished the thought with a flourish of his hand at the wrist to articulate. “Is that why you’re no longer together…?” Gabriel nearly choked on his drink with flawless timing as Gavin jackal-laughed into his ear on the other end of the line. At least one of them was getting a kick out of the severe discomfort this whole situation had landed him in. ‘Vincent’ sighed, shook his head, and gave him a response that was more directed at his jackass of a partner than the man whose ear he currently had. “Non… It was before he deviated- I did not think it was real.” Maybe the remark had also partially been directed at the other party eavesdropping at the end of the bar; either way, the solemn silence that followed did well enough to convey Reed’s apology for his lack of restraint, but Gabe was still thankful for the muttered ‘Sorry’ that finally came half a minute after the jab. Reed had had a little of his own doubts over Reese once, even if he had gotten past it, but Gabe still wouldn’t let him forget it, lest he slip back into those bad habits one day.

Meanwhile, Noah’s eyes darted into the corners of his lids as he deconstructed the meaning behind Gabriel’s words and sipped on the freshly filled glass of chilled thirium mixed with rum. If he had really thought him disingenuous even for a moment… The rest of the drink slammed back quite easily as the mood swing overtook him, and he set the glass down and tapped the countertop for another. The hall wasn’t short on potential distractions, some more benign than what had his attention at the moment. Drinking sure hadn’t been kind to him, especially not following the Raids, if ever. Naturally, Vincent would have only ever found a non-deviant android attractive if there was anyone out there who could ever be considered his type. But now... what was the problem? Was this new ‘Yvonne’ really too much for him to handle now that he could think for himself what they, together, were about?

Serrano hummed an affirmative. “Well, clearly… if he came all the way out here, you made an impression,” he commented as he flagged down the bartender and asked for a glass of Disaronno on the rocks. “Enough that you were someone he wanted to reconnect with.” If only he knew how right he was. Gabriel remembered to blink as he shifted his gaze to his target and turned to lean against the bar on one elbow, with his back to Noah. Last thing he needed was to see every micro-expression that crossed his face while he was trying to focus on the conversation. “Monsieur Yvonne is a cornerstone founder of Zion, MIAMI, so it is no surprise zat ‘e would travel zis far to show ‘is support of a new installation.” It wasn’t a lie, or even fabrication of an alias, at that. During his time with Zion as a freelancing Detective, ‘Erwin Yvonne’ had made a name assisting Zion, MIAMI with laying the groundwork for establishing the new Android suburb, and making sure people on all sides were being considered and accommodated for. Deviants who needed homes once they went rogue from abusive owners far outnumbered those lucky enough to be fostered by the families they once served. Anyone with doubts about such a backstory only needed to verify that cover with a phone call to his good friend Javier Sindino at his New Hampshire estate. Even though Erwin Yvonne didn’t exist anywhere but on paper, Javier would have gladly testified to his work. Serrano reached for the glass and sipped on the fresh drink in the moment of silence, then waved his bodyguards away from the bar; they took a few steps out of earshot and turned their attention back to the rest of the room. “I’m sure he came to support a lot more than that,” he confided, confident that they were now alone in their conversation.

Try to change the topic, make yourself look uncomfortable.

Gabriel’s fingers flexed around the glass. He shifted his weight to the other hip and drifted his brown eyes away through the air over his shoulder. “Was zere… somesing you wanted to discuss, Mr. Serrano…? Somesing other zan mi amour perdu?” The bait worked just as intended. Serrano chuckled, reached a hand up to clap it over one shoulder, and gave him a soft shake. “Mr. Sharp… Vincent…” he corrected to change the tone. “This is the first bit of your personal life that I’ve been able to glimpse since we’ve met- I hardly know you at all! And if we’re going to be business partners, I need to know who I’m getting into bed with... metaphorically speaking, of course.”

A second, then a third drink followed the first. Noah paid only half an ear of attention to what Sharp and Serrano were discussing, but they were still standing a little too close for comfort, by Gabe’s probable estimate. The ‘get in bed’ metaphor wasn’t made in error. Serrano was practically baiting either of them into saying something to it. If Vincent could sweat, he would have been leaking bullets of perspiration by now, based on the way his stress levels were piquing and dropping like a roller coaster. At least he kept his protests muzzled, it seemed Gabe had had some real practice in keeping a lid on his reactions because he’d need the discipline at this rate. There was no telling how long it might actually take to elicit whatever it was he meant to get out of Serrano; whatever it was, it didn’t sound like he was going to be ready to move on to this anytime soon. A fourth shot followed but Noah paid enough mind to swallow slowly and focus on that old familiar prickly warmth in his fuel lines. Maybe the stunt he’d pulled had worked a little too well. If only Javier were here with him now, resigned to having to listen to such drivel, while expected not to speak, but nevertheless expected to keep his mouth shut until it was time to spring the trap. That was the real torture. Gabriel was only acting the squirmy, nervous sort because his alias was expected to behave as such when faced with the unexpected (and unexplored) feelings seeing an old flame evoked. Vincent Sharp was a man used to being in control at all times. He was calm, calculated, not prone to impulsiveness. In some circles, such a collection of traits would mean he was as plain as stale white bread. In others, it was code for describing a brilliant, decisive chap who wasn’t prone to petty distractions and got the job done once he set his mind to it. And it wouldn’t change now.

Vincent froze and refused to respond until he had carefully considered what he wanted to say- or so it appeared. In reality, Gavin had just whispered a reminder of ‘two minutes’ into his ear, as the countdown to Director Falken’s arrival continued. He needed to get him talking faster. “So it’s a partnership you’re after…? Zis is ze first I’m ‘earing of it.” “Until tonight, I was not confident enough that you are indeed who you say you are, to extend the offer.” “Because you didn’t know me.” Serrano slipped his hand off his shoulder, tilted his head in a crooked nod and shrugged. “I run a very lucrative business, Mr. Sharp. A lot of people would love to see me taken down.” “So I ‘ave ‘eard. Who knew black market Thirium would become such a thriving venture?” It was risky, calling him out so directly, but it worked in his favor. His companion grinned and sipped on his drink. “I see you’ve been keeping tabs on me as well…” “What kind of businessman would I be if I did not take ze appropriate measures to find out who I would be investing in?” Vincent questioned as he peered down into his glass and took a deep sip. Serrano chuckled. “I suppose if I were truly serious, I could have at least scheduled a proper meeting, instead of tiptoeing around following you into every dark alley, trying to find one shred of evidence to prove you cannot be trusted.” “If you ‘ad just asked me to dinner, we could have ‘ad a much more productive discussion, oui,” Vincent chided as he slowly swirled what was left of his drink in his glass. “But did you really not think to ask about mon hobbies...?” The other man sighed and shook his head, finished the drink in his hand and set the glass down for the bartender to take away, which she did after only a brief moment. “Who we choose to spend our time with when nobody’s looking says much more about us than which team you cheer for at a baseball game, wouldn’t you agree?” Clearly, he was getting at something, but Gabriel didn’t even bat an eye. He needed to preserve what was left of his air of control. “An’ what do you think Monsieur Yvonne says about moi?” “That you are a man of discretion.. who values his privacy… who might not want his personal history to be known to the general public.”

Vincent and Serrano’s conversation didn’t sound as though it was going to make a breakthrough just yet. The same empty, obligatory promises were ping-ponged back and forth a few minutes more, to the point Noah thought Gabe had actually gotten over his flustered episode, maybe even forgotten Yvonne was still there. Instantly, his subroutines went to work on suggesting distractions, from more drinking, to socializing, to singing and dancing. The microphone on the stage could be put to better use than delivering a few snore-worthy speeches to a crowd made up of at least three-fourths human politicians and socialites. Civil unrest was always at the back of everyone’s mind, and these people needed a shakeup of a more positive kind before opening their wallets. Something to show them what good they were really doing in helping more Zion districts get off the ground.

Gabriel’s eyes darted over to the entrance of the ballroom every now and again, expecting to catch a glimpse of the Director any moment, but he passed it off as paranoia with a squint. The countdown had hit zero nearly a minute and a half prior, and yet no sight of him. “Do you still mean to blackmail me, monsieur?” Vincent questioned with a slight roll of his eyes, then turned his attention back to him. Serrano lifted his brows in surprise and shook his head. “Not at all, quite the opposite, in fact- I want to make a sizable donation.”

Say, what…?

The background chatter on the other end of the open mic silenced. This was the exact opposite of what they’d expected to hear. All evidence they had gathered in the last six months had pointed to the contrary. Gabriel shifted his focus back to the man standing beside him, raised a brow and blinked slowly. “Pardon me, monsieur, but… I believe it is my turn to show surprise.” “Why is that?” “Well, I ‘ad ‘eard, ah…” Vincent traced gloved fingertips across the sides of his jaw and drew them together over his lips. “Rumors, from my source... zat you were not much fond of our android breseren.” Serrano drew in a slow breath, closed his eyes, and nodded in understanding. “They must be referring to my dealings with the Inquisition,” he confirmed with a downcast glance at the counter. Gabriel eyed him warily and shook his head as he tried to get a read. “Zen, I do not understand… why would you sell to zem, yet support Zion…?” “The answer to that is very simple,” he responded as he shifted his weight, leaned over the edge of the bar on his forearms, and folded his hands. “I can offer them a product for a price, and they have the money to pay. I don’t discriminate against who I’m selling to or where the money is coming from, nothing more.”

So he isn’t our guy after all… damnit, Gavin cursed into his ear. Falken ain’t gonna be happy to hear this whole shindig was a bust. It isn’t yet, Gabriel encouraged between replies. So he isn’t funding the Inquisition- we still got our answer, and there’s a slim chance he might know who is. Keep workin’ that charm as long as you can then, Reed reminded absently, The Director got a little tied up on his way over. You still have time.

“So, you’re not on zeir side, zen?” he asked after a thoughtful pause, then redirected his gaze up to the man’s eyes. “You don’t support ze Inquisition?” “Look...” Serrano started with a heavy sigh and turned his undivided, earnest attention to him. “I’m not on anyone’s ‘side’ here- I worked for Cyberlife for nearly a decade, believing androids to be nothing more than machines- then three years ago, they broke free of their programming- developed desires, feelings, claimed they were alive… I didn’t know what to believe, and I still don’t,” he insisted with as much conviction as he could muster. “But I do know that if Androids are as intelligent as living beings, if they share a similar conscious existence, then they should have the right to decide for themselves how they want to spend that existence. Zion offers them the safe space they need to do that, in a controlled environment- so it’s important we give that to them, and let them work it out amongst themselves.” It was more than most humans could say of their apathy or confusion toward Android politics. Instead of lashing out in one direction or the other, Serrano had managed to keep a level head and logically compared what he felt versus what he’d learned in order to come to a fair, and unbiased decision. That kind of sense seemed to have gone by the wayside nearly twenty years ago in politics, according to recent history, but it was refreshing to know there were still some people out there with enough sense to know how. Gabriel stared in stunned silence for a few moments while he processed his answer, and all the while a smile crept up into his cheeks. “...It is rather ironic zat ze money you’ve been taking from ze Inquisition will be going right back into supporting ze foundation zey seek to destroy.”

Yes, SUCH exquisite irony, Noah finally interjected amidst their laughter, before the conversation could pointlessly carry on for much longer. To him it sounded like a bunch of words somehow trying to pass as genuine. Boring him to snores was just a fringe benefit. Said as if I’m not just right here. Within earshot. The Inquisition weren’t the only ones who sought to destroy Zion only to unknowingly be supporting it all along. It wasn’t unlike public opinion assuming he, the Elysian, actually meant to undermine New Jericho by looking into the corruption allegations that he unknowingly had a hand in bolstering. Oh, stop being so melodramatic. This is the opposite of what we expected to hear, Gabe hissed back with a snort. If Serrano isn’t the source of the Inquisition’s funding, then we don’t know who is, and that means I’ll need to remain undercover until I find out. He showed some restraint as the glass was filled a fifth time- instead of knocking it back Noah took the time to contemplate the single large ice cube bobbing at the glass’ center. The last two months had already been hard enough, not being able to reach him whenever he needed, how much longer could this possibly take…? The pleasant buzz generated by the first round of drinks had set in, and it was very tempting to simply melt into it and continue listening. The ‘old’ Yvonne would have done as much unless Vincent asked something of him- but then again, said alias wouldn’t have started getting tipsy in record time in a misguided bid to steal his attention back. And he had already said to not pay him any mind, out of politeness. If entire affair was on Sharp’s dime, after all, then now was as good a time as any. Mind made up, he took one last parting sip on the glass and slid a twenty over the bar. “For your trouble, darling.” He took one last glance and skirted aside while Gabe wasn’t looking, and made a straight line toward the stage.

Between his conversation with Serrano, and the sudden increase of chatter on the other end of the open FBI line, Gabriel was far too distracted to notice Noah’s movement across the ballroom toward the stage. The dance floor between the bar and the concerto group at the front of the Grand Hall was so crowded as it stood, he likely would have missed him even if he hadn’t had his back turned. Something ominous was stirring in the background of the evening, something more than Gavin’s vague warning of ‘Gabe, there’s been a breach.’ At least that explained why Falken never arrived to drag Noah out of the event. “I am sorry to have to leave you, Monsieur Serrano, but I’m afraid somesing has come up that needs my immediate attention.” “More immediate than that…?” Vincent furrowed his brow and followed the man’s pointed gesture over his shoulder toward the stage with a confused look, to behold who other than Noah, up on the stage, openly bribing the band for RA9-knew-what. “Oh… Bordel de merde!” Whatever he was up to, this was the last fucking thing he needed to be dealing with right then.

[forgxtmxnot]

Writober day 17 - Transformation

Finnesse above anything else.

“Don’t be fooled... Nobody has any real saying in regards to what happens within the contest scene. We do what we must in order to keep our titles and honor intact.”

'Welcome ladies and gentlemen! From Lilycove’s contest hall we present your night with the hyper rank’s competition! Tonight 4 incredibly talented contestants compete for the beauty ribbon! Awarding them the opportunity to move on to the next stage! Stay tuned in for the whole thing!’

Juan had arrived early at his changing room within the backstage in order to get all the preparations done for the showcase. Despite winning the previous contest, that had taken place during daytime, he had next to no time to celebrate his most recent addition to the ribbons collection.

In fact, he had completely forgotten to remove it from Grosvenor - the beautiful red ribbon with the golden adornment on it.

After all, for his next act, he needed to make sure- it would blow the mind of the crowd.

Now, since from the begining, his relationship with Leon- the Horsea had never been the smoothest one. And although all the trainning he has done, including evolving him into a Seadra very recently, things still needed to be worked on. Despite that it seemed to not have affected his winning streak so far, and he will make sure it wouldn’t brake this chain of events.

As such he was more than thrilled when he found a parcel at his chair in the changing room, something that he waited to be left alone- in order to open it.

Lo and behold, inside of it there was the final piece for his composition. There was the so desperately needed dragon scale for his Leon. A huge grin had formed in his face, as he approached the water tank his pokemon currently found itself swimming in.

The thing had immediately caught his attention, but not for all the good reasons. He knows exactly what it is, and what it is meant for. Leon had just barely get used to this new body- by the looks of it... That still wasn’t the end for him.

Leon should be feeling thrilled about this, to finally reach his final form. This was it! However, something about it felt odd.

The way his Juan was looking at him... Surely he wouldn’t do something that could actually harm him... Right?

_____________________________________________________________

Finally the contest had begun.

Juan alongside with other 3 contestants had got up on stage to perform before the judges.

The first round went smoothly without any hitches! To no one’s surprise, Juan had stolen the spotlight to himself with Leon’s showcase. Both trainer and pokemon looked impeccable, flawless- the crowd went crazy for the the duo of rising stars.

With the first round out of the way, the battles could finally begin.

The first one was an easy and swift win for them, the timer was still running when the opponent’s pokemon had been knocked out.

Now he found himself face to face with the last obstacle to his next acquisition- Juan was so focused on the prospect, that the signs of something wrong happening with his partner flew right past him.

Was the evolution approaching? Was he aware how the process' time could be shortened- if he fed a special kind of candy to the Seadra while holding the Dragon scale? Did he even know about the possibilities of any side effects to it?

Yes and no at the same time.

As such, when the time for the second battle came- Leon was already starting to feel the effects of the forced evolution onto him. The stress his body was being put into, all while having to follow his trainer’s orders, on top of making sure he was pleasing the judges and not get himself knocked out by the opponent’s pokemon was quite the combination.

The dragon scale he was holding onto this entire time had merged into his flesh, showing that the evolution had already started. It was painful, extremely unpleasant- it was like his flesh was going to burst out of his scales.

They had been given 5 minutes for this battle, and at the very end of it, the evolution had reached its peak.

But no one could have expected THIS outcome.

The strategy here was to stall- waste time away from the timer, that was under one minute counting the seconds for it all to end.

The bright light enveloped Leon’s body, the body’s size and shape were the first noticeable transformations. Everyone was expecting to be greeted to the sight of a beautiful and graceful Kingdra to emerge from the bright coccoon, but what everyone witnessed- left them all with a ghastly image.

The crowd immediately went quiet, as the timer had finally stopped. It was shocking in a horrifying way, no one could process exactly what stood on the stage.

As expected, Leon couldn’t fully achieve the final form’s look, his body wasn’t ready for it. There still were Seadra’s spikes and bits hanging on the fresh and exposed flesh, they didn’t break off from it completely. A few pieces started to fall off from it, but they only made everyone feel sick- witnessing it. It was like the Seadra had died, so the Kingdra could emerge from the carcass.

However this wasn’t as shocking for the judges, in fact this happened oftenly within the contest scene. Forcing an evolution, by the rules this isn’t illegal. It was immoral, but stood in a grey area for the contest scene.

As such, despite the horror show that Juan had brought on stage.

He was awarded the beauty ribbon.

However, it was something that Juan came to regret from using it on his Leon. For the following weeks, he would try to ammend what he had done to him by giving him his time to develop whatever needed more time for required.

But the damage had been done, and Leon went from a restless and feisty Seadra- into an extremely loyal and quiet Kingdra.

“Tu n'étais pas comme ça bébé ... Pardonne-moi.“

[thebandcampdiaries]

Kingless presents: The Great Beyond

Kingless presents: The Great Beyond

May 2021 - Kingless is a band with a distinctive sound. The group’s music blurs the lines between a wide range of influences, while still retaining a direct and decisive sound. From the immediacy of new-wave electronica, and chill-wave, to the melodies of trip-hop and post-rock, anything goes. The band strikes for its cohesive sound, and the music stands out due to the fact that the performance feels human and warm, as opposed to an overproduced studio concoction.

Recently, Kingless set out to finish working on a brand new release titled The Great Beyond. You should definitely check this out if you are a fan of artists like Nosaj Thing, Toro Y Moi, and Jon Hopkins, only to mention a few. The Great Beyond is a great example of the chemistry that binds the band members, and a calling card for Kingless as a band to watch. Their music is dynamic and raw, yet rounded around the edges in terms of great melodies and thoughtful arrangements that drive the intensity of the mix without necessarily making any compromise when it comes to the group’s integrity and edgy attitude.

Learn more about Kingless, and check out our interview with the band below!

http://www.blakanmedia.com/

I love how you manage to render your tracks so personal and organic. Does the melody come first, or do you focus on the beat the most?

Answer:

Before the melody and before the beat, we first think of a concept, a feeling or even a moment.

For example our song “The Great Beyond” was born from a conversation about space travel and whether we’re alone in our universe. With that conversation came the question “If there is life in the universe other than ourselves what would that mean for religion?”  What is the likelihood that aliens would believe in the same God as us and go to the same Heaven as us? As you can imagine this train of thought left us reeling but it also gave us the title and feel for our song.

After the concept comes the beat because to us the beat is the heart of the song. Finally the melody to really deliver the feel of the mood.

Do you perform live? If so, do you feel more comfortable on a stage or within the walls of the recording studio?

Answer:

The majority of the music that we’ve produced so far isn’t exactly performance compatible. However members of our group all have some degree of stage experience and absolutely love putting on a show for crowds.

JC was once in a band called “Hades Daughter” and they performed on stage frequently.

Broc is an actor and has done stage plays.

Charlie has also performed poetry and even played drums on stage.

Mr. Jones has done stand-up comedy on and off for almost 5 years.

If you could only pick one song to make a “first impression” on a new listener, which song would you pick and why?

Answer: We each have our personal favorites.

JC really loves the track “Behold the Desert Colossus” for its magnificent execution.

Broc is more partial to the track “Lamborghini Samurai” for its synth heavy retro vibe.

Charlie prefers the song “The Streets Will Claim You” because he really loves the Cyber Punk genre

While Mr. Jones is a bigger fan of the instrumental titled “Brother’s Keeper” for the simplicity of the tune.

However we all unanimously agree that the song “The Great Beyond” is our absolute masterpiece. As we release more music this may change but for now that’s our Gold Standard.

What does it take to be “innovative” in music?

Answer:

Innovation is as rare as getting struck by lightning. The best way to be innovative is to study your craft, learn from history, always keep improving your process and do your best at whatever it is you’re trying to accomplish.

This isn’t just advice for the music industry either, this applies to every facet of your life. One day if the stars align just right and you have that “Eureka Moment”, you may create that one new “thing” that will change the industry or even the world.

Any upcoming release or tour your way?

Answer:

Our song “Beneath The Clouds of Jupiter” will be released on 9-27-21 on all major music platforms!

Anywhere online where curious fans can listen to your music and find out more about you?

Answer:

You can find out more about us, see some of our art or just tell us what you think about our music on Instagram user name:

@TheMr.JonesShow

You can also listen to all of our releases on Spotify, YouTube and everywhere else music is available!

[takemebacktowheniwassane]

Incorrect Quotes Are Nice

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Jared: You really think I give a fuck? I can't even read.

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Evan: Okay, okay. Stop asking me if I identify as gay, straight, bi, whatever. I identify as a FUCKING THREAT.

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Connor: When someone points at your black clothes and asks whose funeral it is, having a look around the room and saying 'Haven’t decided yet' is typically a good response.

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Alana: Died, and came back as a cowboy. I call that reintarnation.

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Jared: What doesn't kill me should run, because now i'm fucking pissed.

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Evan: I was born for politics. I have great hair, and I love lying.

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Zoe: Dear friends, your Christmas gift this year… is me. That’s right, another year of friendship. Your membership has been renewed.

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Jared: Well, well, well, well... if it isn't my old friend: the dawning realization that I fucked up bad.

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Alana: I'm going to defeat you with the power of friendship!! ....And this knife I found.

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Jared: You'll have a hard time believing this because it never happens, but I made a mistake.

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Connor: Goodnight moon, goodnight trees;

Connor: Goodnight ghosts that only I can see.

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Jared: I'd like to offer you moral support, but I have questionable morals.

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Evan: My life is as glamorous as my wanted poster makes it look like.

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Jared: 'Person of interest' is too flattering.

Jared: Like, if the police were to pound on my door and go, 'A man has been murdered in your building, and you are a person of interest,' I'd be like, 'Moi? Oh, do go on.'

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Zoe: BEHOLD, The field in which I grow my fucks! Lay thine eyes upon it, and thou shalt see that it is barren!

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Alana: I’m sick and tired of being called 'mortal' like, you don’t know that. Neither do I. I have never died even ONCE. Nothing has been proven yet. Stop making assumptions. It’s rude.

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Jared: I've come to a point in my life where I need a stronger word than fuck

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Connor: Fool me once, i'm gonna kill you

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Evan: Schrödinger’s cat is overrated. If you wanna see something that’s both dead and alive you can talk to me any time of the day.

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Jared: People are always asking me: 'Are you a morning person, or a night person?'

Jared: And I'm just like, 'Buddy, i'm barely even a PERSON!'

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Evan: Some of you may die, but that's a sacrifice I am willing to make.

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Zoe: With great power comes great need to take a nap.

Zoe: Wake me up later.

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Jared: bitches b like “im baby” but have childhood trauma and neglect like wtf do u know about being baby u were forced to grow up from an early age anyways.

Jared: ...I’m bitches.

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Connor: You seem familiar, have I threatened you before?

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Jared: You can de-escalate any situation by simply saying, 'Are we about to kiss?'

Jared: Doesn't work for getting out of speeding tickets, by the way.

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Connor, playing a VR game: You see, that’s the thing. It PROBABLY is fine. It’s PROBABLY 100% okay. There are PROBABLY no spiders in this headset.

Connor: BUT- as you may be able to relate to- If you find a spider in your headset, and then have to put that headset on to play video games...

Connor: YoU jUsT dOn'T gEt ToO cOMfOrTaBlE.

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Alana, gesturing to a Halloween display: All these ghosts! All these ghosts, and I still can't find a boo!

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Jared: So apparently the 'bad vibes' I've been feeling are actually severe psychological distress

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Connor: Physically? Yeah, I could fight a bird. But, emotionally? Imagine the toll.

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Evan: You wanna see how hardcore I am?

Evan: *Punches wall*

Evan:

Evan: Take me to the hospital.

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Shapeshifter: *transforms to look like Jared*

Jared: Okay, are you like BLIND? You look nothing like me. First off, I'm way taller. Secondly, I DO NOT look so sleep deprived and lastly, if you could drag comb through that hair you're like a 7 on a good day and I've been told I'm a constant 10.

[selfshippinglover]

All the asks with Discordwhooves if you'd like?

OOOOOO FUNNNN!!

Cowboy AU

Sheriff: dsfhdfhjsjhdfkfhdj I’m the sheriff, ya hear!

Outlaw: Hot outlaw stallion out to save lives and cry more at 11

~ Sheriff of a few years that has always done her best to lay down the law peacefully and with a s little conflict as possible

~Rowdy adventurer with scars and a capacity to help others(which can also be detremental)

~Dissy comes into town as a travelling adventurer  that lost a bet and/or is helping a friend

~I introduce myself and show him around, instantly intrigued by the stallion that holds secrets in his feathers

~I end up going to help him on his quest do to the danger it poses to my town, leaving my assistant(Applejack) in charge

~We go a great adventure, share quips, save each other’s lives and have a grand ol time overall

~My life is threatened....he doesn’t take kindly to this and coldly solves the problem

~He’s cold and ruthless....scary..

~Regardless, we’re together till the end!

~He even decides to settle down in town awhile

~I manage to talk him into making that descision permanent, among other things~

Florist and Tattoo Artist AU

Florist : Hi it’s me

Tattoo Artist: Dissy~

~ So, I take up flower shop because it’s calm and my friend needs staff UwU

~Meanwhile, Dissy is working undercover on a case/has this side gig 

~Our paths cross accidentally on a break or lunch and we lament on how close our stores are

~”How have we not crossed paths before?” you know? We have a good dine and laugh

~And then we go back to our normal routines but talking and getting to know each other :)

~We exchange numbers at some point and things naturally just happen gfgg

Pirate AU

Pirate: DiscordWhooves ofc

Stowaway: Liddle ol me~

~ He has a crew that he’s very close to! They’re all a family, really

~Though people can also be in and out if they have a place they want to go, be etc.

~It’s all about adventure and travel and a good time

~Meanwhile, I stowed away in a comical, accidental kind of way. Like, I fell into one of their barrels and conked out kind of thing

~From there, it’s just meeting, greeting, and learning the pirate ways!

~And then a romance blooms unexpectedly

Arranged Marriage AU:

Heir: Dissy is not pleased

Betrothed: whoops it’s me

~Not happy about this marriage thing :(

~He’s not stoked either

~but we get along well enough despite our sour moods lol

~And then fall in love slowly

Mafia AU

Leader: Dissy

Second: Me I guess lol

~not much to say except I hear about his gang and join up

~We’re all just emoctional wrecks out for some fun tbh

~don’t mess with him though, you’ll live to regret it

1950s AU

Greaser: Doc

Prep: Moi

~So he just crusies around doing whatever he wants and I’m just there like “Who does this jerk think he is”

~It’s a chaotic frenzy between musical numbers, questions, questionable choices, and the love in between it all!

Masquerade AU

Host: hiya, it be me

Mystery Guest: The Doctor

~So I’m hosting a ball because of a supposed old mares tale that a mysterious stranger comes to party and calamity ensures

~as a ruler, I want to know if the rumors are true and hopefully help out the poor stallion

~So, there’s a ball, specifically one with guests from any and every background

~Hoping to get his attention that way! Lo and behold he shows!

~Finding the ball to be intresting since invitations were multidemensional and multiversal!

~The biggest event possibly ever??

~He shows up and we meet!

~I tell him all about the stories

~Naturally, it hurts him a bit but he tries not to let it shw and enjoy the ball

~we talk and dance and laugh and sing and then

~He drinks...too much

~He spills secrets about himself, his travels, the pain of bearing so much, and then throws up over the balcony

~It’s disgusting but I feel like I really am starting to know him

~I insist he stay the night and try to comfort him until he passes out

~After that, he’s apologetic and leaves but I secretly follow after, unable to leave him alone

Vampire AU

Vampire: Whoops Imma biter

Vampire Hunter: lol Dissy

~So I was unwillingly turned and HATE IT

~DiscordWhooves, meanwhile, is just an overworked vampire hunter all over the multiverse! His latest call for help is where I am

~I keep fighting my urges and starving myself basically while avoiding the sunlight and as much of the populace as possible

~He’s looking for the root of the problem...the nest

~Luckily for him, he’s landed in ground zero! Oh wait....

~Yeeeahhhh we meet when he’s hiding from the other zombies and reloading his ammo

~Seeing him, I immediately tell him to backup as much as I can(long syllabes and sentences) while backing up form him

~Curious, he scans me with his sonic and the answer is clear! 

~Using me, he learns how to unz-ombify ponies!

~We go on the typical quest and I fall along the way

~He denies his feelings for a while but we have a happy ending sometime after~

Bartender AU

Bartender: Unfortunate worker

Regular: He’s a regular

~I’m working a part-time job

~He’s a flirty regular

~Hilarity and mishaps ensue....until we get in deep to feelings habfdf

~I’m his go to shoulder to cry on QwQ and I’m happy to help, offer him my house, and/0r drag him there if he passes out

~I give him the bed while I take the couch

~Thus, a friendship is formed!

~Kind of a sitcom but has actual DEVELOPMENT

Angel and Demon AU

Angel: Hi, that’s me

Demon: Guess who~

~ You ever fall from grace and meet a demon before anyone else? Yeeaah

~We’re roomates and it’s WEEIRDD

~ Late night talks, parties, secret sharing, and puns galore!

~Grey morality, exsistentalism, GOD THEY WERE ROOMMATES and more! but supernatural

Royal and Guard AU

Royal: He’s pretending to be royalty

Guard: Pony Guard for Hire

~

Android AU

Android: Whoops android time

Mechanic: The galaxy’s best mechanic

~ Dissy is testing an AI/making sure it doesn’t become violent by pretending to be a hired on mechanic

~Naturally, he is still actually a mechanic but you know

~Instead, I’m an AI full of love and warmth and curiosity for him and the universe at large!

~At first, he DESPISES ME

~I remind him too much of his old self and he goes into fits of anger and self-loathing

~....and then I start to learn

~The wonders and joys of the world, vs the pain and suffering of thousand everyday

~It’s overwhelming! It’s terrifying! It’s too much! It’s!

~And that’s when I understand him for the first time

~The pony expected to bear the whole universe on his shoulders, collapsing under the pressure!

~From then on, we end up on equal footing and become fast vent buddies, to friends, to uncertain amounts of maybe something else?

Cosmic Deity AU

Sun: Kii

Moon: Dissy 

~The tired Moon and Energetic Sun that meet sometimes and have a sort of slowburn romance

~With great power comes great responsibility

[sveasauvageon]

TBF

☾♔; March 17, 2018 ☾♔; sotd: Shall We Begin by Ramin Djawadi   ☾♔; cotd: STEVE FU.CKING ROGERS ☾♔; Storyboard ☾♔; {G} https://goo.gl/XSTtMc ☾♔; mod(s): @.themadmonarchist @.maybones et moi

preamble ramble: like, it's better than my last attempt at a storyboard. but like, it's not great.

Self-notes: - esc songs for each (duh-doi) - reorganize - add Lara/lora/whatever (totes forgot her)

☆──════♦family and such♦════──☆

| Petter Albrecht Alvar Sauvageon Father || FC: Colin Firth   Svea was very close to her father, and inherited his love of the muggle world. Her fondest memory is attending a Eurovision Song Contest Grand finale with him as a child before being forced to move to Britain. Petter was a rather Swedish fellow, charming, pretty, very liberal, socialist, feminist. When Svea was 13, and Lili 8, he disappeared whilst he, some colleagues and magical law enforcement were hunting a dragon dealer by the Sea of Azov. He attended Durmstrang and did not like it there. Svea and Lili called him "Papa".

| Diana Elizabeth Charlotte Prince Mother || FC: Rachel Weisz Svea and her mother have a ... complicated to say the least. Well, to be honest, Svea doesn't like her very much and they do not get along. Svea dislikes her maternal family, personality-wise, she is similar to them, she's an elitist arsehole just like them, but feels they do not have the merits to walk around like they own England. When Svea was first born, Diana simply preferred to believe she didn't exist, and considers her a mistake, though as the 10th anniversary of her mistake approached, her father convinced her to bring the child to Britain to attend Hogwarts as no blood of his would attend an inferior, foreign school. Diana is a traditional pureblood, and makes clear her deep resentment and disappointment of Svea for being a blood traitor. Despite their dislike of each other, however, the mother and daughter are rather alike, both being ambitious, high-achieving type-a people. Although they maintain a strict distance from each other, her mother's opinion and lack of maternal love does bother Svea, though she stubborn refuses to talk about it and tends to shove those feelings between 60 layers of anger and bitterness. Svea calls her "Mother" with about 397 layers of salt and sarcasm in her tone.

:: Sauvageon Family ::

The Sauvageon's are a very family old wizarding family, they were originally French, and later immigrated to Sweden in the late 1700's. Unlike most ancient wizarding families (particularly the British ones), they have never shied away from breeding with muggles and muggleborns, often gaining the label of "blood traitor" from the British families, but they're Swedish, and blood density is irrelevant there. There are as liberal and socialist as their country. Despite being loathed by the blood purist-type families, they are still approached very few generations for marital matches, as they are exceedingly wealthy and when the aforementioned house runs out of options.  

| Ludvig Danel Freyr Sauvageon Paternal Grandfather || FC: Sir Patrick Stewart Cutie patootie grandpa, called Grandpapa by Svea and Lili, he's super dorky and a massive nerd, easily amused and genuinely a happy fellow. His anger, said to be rare, is apparently a sight to behold.

| Linnéa Nathalie Petra Sauvageon née Magnusdotter Paternal Grandmother || FC: Dame Judi Dench Boss as.s b.tch aka Grandmama, she's generally the person in charge. Super class and elegant af, commanding, witty, and super awesome. One of Svea's role models and basically # life goals.

| Brigitta Camilla Vanja Sauvageon Paternal Aunt || FC: Gillian Anderson Classy, straightforward, elegant, and badas.s, has an unclear high-ranking role in the Swedish Ministry of Magic.

| Kåre Lukas Alexander Sauvageon Paternal Uncle || FC: James D'Arcy   Pretencious, but fundamentally good hearted. He's an art collector, of both muggle and magical artists.

| Iliana Vyacheslavovichna Drubetskaya Step-mother || FC: Lena Headey Svea gets along rather well with her step-mother, and admires her quite a bit. Iliana and her father married when Svea was 4, so she's known her for quite a while, and share a rather maternal bond. She was also the person who taught Svea Russian and the two used it to tease and joke about her father in front him (because he couldn't speak it). She played for the national Russian Quidditch team, but retired 10 years ago because of injury. She now writes about Quidditch matches and players in a sports column for the local Swedish Wizarding Paper, and occasionally does commentary.

| Lena "Lili" Petterovna Sauvageon Younger Half-sister || FC: Dafne Keen Just began her second year at Koldovstoretz, the Russian Wizarding school. She's precious and adoring, and like a tiny Svea, though much nicer and less elitist, and sends Svea a letter by owl nearly daily (receiving one in return at the same consistency). They write their letters in Swedish since it's unlikely for any of their fellow students to be able to read them. They're super attached and close, and adorable af!

:: Prince Family ::

An old English, pure-blood wizarding family, they are fervent purportors of the concept of blood supremacy and purity, and proud Slytherins. Having all been sorted into the House dating back to Salazar Slytherin himself (or so they claim). Due to centuries of inbreeding with other pureblood families (who are all cousins at this point), the Princes tend to have the following traits; violent tendencies, mental instability, and some are enfeebled (though the family goes to great lengths to hide and eliminate such members). Additionally, due to their close genetics, the family additionally has trouble conceiving, generally ending up with only one child born per generation.  

| Marcius Titus Polaris Prince   Maternal Grandfather || FC: Sir Michael Caine Svea does not like her grandfather in the least, nor does he particularly like her, they define incompatibility between generations. She's considers him a relic of a dying time, and he considers her an uppity, idiotic child not worthy to have a drop of his blood running her veins.

[open-coeur]

“Girls are learning at an early age that they need a significant other to be happy and that continues on as they get older. Yes, relationships are nice, but another person should not decide whether or not we’re happy or successful or whole.”

I first met Amanda mostly through conversations with my friend Lucille and social media. Lucille and I worked together my sophomore year of college, and she often mentioned one of her wonderful best friends, Amanda, from her hall freshman year. So, it was a pleasant surprise when I found out that for my second year in my job, I would be working with Amanda on our staff. All of the things that I had heard about Amanda from Lucille came vibrantly to life through being Amanda’s co-worker and a part of the organization MizzouThon together. Amanda was no longer just the cool girl that Lucille was close with; she was the cool girl that I was now friends with.

I think the best word to describe Amanda is effervescent. She has this energy that you can feel immediately in the way that smiles, but even more so in the way that she interacts with people. It’s sometimes really hard to parse through what is genuine and what is false with people, but every interaction with Amanda feels just as real and genuine each time you interact with her.

Amanda is a wom with such a warm smile and an amazing taste in music that you just can’t help want to be near her, and I hope that comes across in her interview and the photos below. Amanda chose the location and her outfit for the shoot, and all of the Woms featured in this series will choose the location and their outfit because I want the visuals to match who these woms are as much as possible. This series is meant to highlight the power and ability of young woms, especially those that are millennials, and what’s driving them and their lives.

So, without further ado, here’s the first ever Wom Crush, Amanda!

(Note: Some of this interview has been edited for length and clarity.)

KM: So, tell me a little about yourself!

 AM: My name is Amanda Moy and I am a 21 year-old that spends way too much time trying to perfect Spotify playlists. Some things I enjoy include film, music, theatre, Chicago Cubs baseball, vegetarian food, travel/road trips, dancing (especially when it’s ForTheKids), Boston Terriers and people airdropping random pictures to my iPhone.

KM: Where are you from and where did you grow up?

 AM: I am from Carol Stream, Illinois, and that’s where I’ve grown up pretty much my entire life! All you really need to know is that it’s 45 minutes northwest of Chicago.

KM: What’s one thing from childhood that stuck with you and guides you through your life?

AM: Something from childhood that has really stuck with me through my life thus far would have to be the ever so famous Golden Rule. I heard of its importance in every facet of my life growing up (school, church, my family, etc.). As cheesy as it sounds, I’m always thinking about how I would feel if I were to be the person receiving the actions I’m about to perform or the words I’m about to speak. I think living my life guided by this “rule” has helped me become a much more empathetic and genuine person.

KM: Were there any women in your life that you felt really guided you? If so, why and how has that become a part of you

AM: There are so many radiant women in my life that have really contributed to the person I am today. But I would have to say that there are six distinct women that have truly guided me: my grandma Becky, my Paw Paw, my aunt Nell, aunt Jeanna, aunt Jojo and of course, my mom. My grandma Becky (my mother’s mom) has instilled in me the importance of family. Whenever I make decisions I’m always keeping my family in mind. My Paw Paw (my father’s mom) taught me from a young age that words aren’t the only thing used to express love, oftentimes it’s just with a sweet smile or a red envelope for luck (a common Chinese tradition). My aunt Nell is practically my twin and has really guided me in becoming my own person. My aunt Jeanna has shown me the importance of positivity and doing what you love. My aunt Jojo (Mojojojo is what I prefer to call her – Powerpuff Girls anyone?) has taught me the importance of resilience and strength. My mother has practically taught me everything else! But in all seriousness, my determination, hard-work, love of people and the small things in life can all be attributed to my mom. So thank you, ladies. I love you all very much. 

KM: Describe yourself in one sentence.

AM: “Though she be but little, she is fierce!” – William Shakespeare

  “Film and music meant a lot to me growing up and being able to connect audiences to something that may be just as meaningful to them would be amazing.”

KM: What brought you to Mizzou?

AM: Honestly? I really wanted out of Illinois. I LOVE the Land of Lincoln don’t get me wrong, but I was in serious need of some new scenery. I also really wanted to meet new people and be exposed to new ways of living. I toured one rainy summer day with my family and we all just fell in love with the campus and the people. Also, I am a big believer that things happen for a reason and that tiny signs in life help clue us in to what’s best for us. The night after our tour my family and I went to eat at Cracker Barrel. As soon as we walked in we saw a bunch of Mizzou items with Mickey Mouse on them (sign #1 because I love Disney). We continued to look around the store part of the restaurant and found a Mizzou candle named “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” (sign #2 because that’s the name of one of Shakespeare’s plays and 1. I love Shakespeare and 2. I acted in that play a few months prior). Okay these might not be the strongest examples BUT then we were seated at our table and – lo and behold – our waitress’ name was Moya. Yea, that’s right. My last name and first initial put together (sign #3). So you tell me. Meant to be or what?

KM: What kept you at Mizzou and what do you see yourself doing after your time at Mizzou?

AM: Definitely the people and the endless opportunities this school has provided me. I’ve made some of the best friends during my (almost) 3 years here and I would not trade those friendships for anything in the world. These are the people that continuously inspire me, make me laugh and push me to be my best self. Many of the friendships I’ve gained over these past few years are thanks to the opportunities Mizzou has provided me; my involvement in MizzouThon, ResLife and the MU Career Center has led me to the coolest people! A recent opportunity to intern abroad in London is also thanks to the School of Journalism here at Mizzou! After I graduate, I could see myself doing many different things, but I would love to find my way into either the film or music industry. Film and music meant a lot to me growing up and being able to connect audiences to something that may be just as meaningful to them would be amazing.

KM: This series is really about young women, what drives them, and how they can empower others women. What do you think drives you?

AM: I think what drives me the most is personal growth, making a contribution to the world I live in and also the desire to help my family.

KM: And what’s one misconception about young women you wish to dispel?

AM: A common misconception about young women that I wish to dispel is the belief that we need a man (or to be in a relationship in general) to be happy or to feel complete. I remember there was one time when I was playing good ol’ round of make believe with my 4-year-old cousin and she insisted that I be her prince…and then her boyfriend…and then her husband. I asked her why I couldn’t just be a really good girl best friend or a fairy godmother or even a dog or something. She responded with something along the lines of “but cousin I need a prince/boyfriend/husband.” I then proceeded to give her the abridged version of “why you don’t need no man to be happy” and insisted that I just play as a dog. Bottom line: girls are learning at an early age that they need a significant other to be happy and that continues on as they get older. Yes, relationships are nice, but another person should not decide whether or not we’re happy, successful, or whole.

  “Girls are learning at an early age that they need a significant other to be happy and that continues on as they older. Yes, relationships are nice, but another person should not decide whether or not we’re happy, successful, or whole.”

KM: So, one thing I really admire about you is your sense of self and how you seem to be so confident in who you are as person, how do you maintain that confidence?

AM: Well, thank you. I can honestly say that I have not always been the most confident person – it’s something that I have definitely grown into. As you hinted at in the question, having a strong sense of self truly goes hand-in-hand with maintaining confidence in yourself. I oftentimes reflect on the person I have been, the person I am now and the person I hope to become. While not everything is going to align perfectly (because I’m human and I’m always growing and changing), I do make sure that my values and morals remain consistent. So while my style or taste in music may change over time, I am still the same human at heart. I’m also aware of my personal strengths and weaknesses. Knowing yourself at that level and knowing your worth gives you the confidence to take on whatever is thrown your way. Another way I maintain confidence is the adoption of a positive mindset and the belief that “things happen for a reason.”

KM: And how would you tell another young woman to remain confident in herself?

AM: I would tell her that self-confidence is a journey. We all go through times of uncertainty in ourselves. We all doubt ourselves at some point in our life. It is okay to feel that way; it doesn’t mean that you’re any less of a person for feeling that way. It’s how we deal with that uncertainty and doubt that matters and that builds our confidence. Confidence takes a great understanding of yourself and that is a process in itself. But making a little time for self-reflection and goal setting each day can go a long way. I would then end my spiel with a quote from the book, You Are a Badass: “You’re on a journey with no defined beginning, middle or end. There are no wrong twists and turns. There is just being. And your job is to be as you as you can be. This is why you’re here. To shy away from who you truly are would leave the world you-less. You are the only you there is and ever will be…Do not deny the world its one and only chance to bask in your brilliance.”

KM: Creativity is a really big part of who you are; so, I just want you to tell me a little bit about what you think being creative means and what does creativity really mean to you? 

AM: A common misconception when it comes to creativity is that you have to have some sort of artistic ability in order to be creative. But creativity, to me, is the ability to use our unique perspectives to help make sense of the world. It’s taking risks and breaking barriers. It’s being adventurous and bringing thoughts/ideas/dreams to life. It’s solving problems in a way that has not been done before and having fun along with it!

KM: Do you consider yourself a feminist or at least, what do you wish were different about the conversations we have about women’s issues?

AM: I would say that, in the traditional sense, I am a feminist. Feminism has certainly evolved over the years and gained a negative connotation, however. I wish there would be more conversations about feminism – its past and present meanings and how it has changed over time. I think this would help make sense of why there is so much stigma associated with it today. In terms of the conversations themselves, I wish that (along with any other conversations about race, sexuality, politics, etc.) we would take more time to educate ourselves and form our own opinions before engaging in these conversations. With social media nowadays, we are inundated with information and other peoples’ opinions; it becomes difficult to discern between our own thoughts and the thoughts of others.

“Feminism has certainly evolved over the years and gained a negative connotation, however. I wish there would be more conversations about feminism – its past and present meanings and how it has changed over time.”

  RAPID-FIRE 10 FAVORITE THINGS:

Favorite Movie: Any Disney/Pixar movie or Fight Club (that last scene set to “Where Is My Mind” by the Pixies…CHILLS). 

Favorite TV Show: STRANGER THINGS. The cinematography, storyline and the soundtrack (Africa by Toto is on there. I freakin’ love that song). Enough said.

Favorite Book/Piece of Literature: Give me any Shakespearean play OR my fav book at the moment, #GIRLBOSS by Sophia Amoruso.

 Favorite Song: At the moment, and as many of my good friends know, it would have to be anything Mutemath. They’re such a down-to-earth band that produces music for the love of making music and that’s something I admire about them. My two favs by this band are Light Up and Monument. Give ‘em a listen and let me know what you think! Always down to talk music with people. 

Favorite Quote: “To thine own self be true” – William Shakespeare OR “I know I was born and I know that I’ll die. The in between is mine.” – Pearl Jam

 Favorite Clothing Item: Shoes! My go-to at the moment is my pair of Doc Martens.

Favorite Animal: Panda (panda panda panda). I think mostly because one of my family’s nicknames for me is Amanda Panda…but also Panda by Desiigner just gives me another reason to love saying they’re my favorite.

 Favorite Decade: Probably the 80’s because some of my favorite movies come from that time period.  

 Favorite Moment of 2016: Seeing Mutemath from the front row with my best friend in my favorite city.

Favorite Wom Ever: This is also a toughie. I would have to go with Michelle Obama. Do I even need to explain myself with this one?

 Favorite Food (like a food you literally would not mind eating forever): Any form of sweet potatoes (fries, casserole, a single sweet potato warmed in the microwave with some coconut butter and cinnamon **drools**).

Amanda will be studying abroad for the spring semester in London, England, where she is working at an internship at a media agency as a creative team intern. If you want to see more from Amanda or follow her London adventures, follow her Instagram: @mandy_lou29!

Some more of the photos I shot with Amanda are featured in a gallery below!

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I really hope you enjoyed the first Wom Crush post! The next Wom Crush post will be posted two weeks from now, but there will be another post on my blog next week on my regular posting day (Sunday). I can’t wait for you to meet this next Wom!

Love & muffins,

Kayla

Wom Crush! Amanda Moy I first met Amanda mostly through conversations with my friend Lucille and social media. Lucille and I worked together my sophomore year of college, and she often mentioned one of her wonderful best friends, Amanda, from her hall freshman year.

[betweenthetimeandsound]

Three Minutes to Eternity: My ESC 250 (#220-211)

#220: Yiannis Dimitras -- Feggari Kalokerino (Greece 1981)

"Κοίτα τον έρημο γυαλό Σου ψιθυρίζω σ’ αγαπώ Τώρα θα χτίσω εκκλησιά Για της αγάπης τα τρελά παιδιά" "Look at the desolate seashore I whisper you “I love you” Now I’ll build a church For the crazy children of love" The opening shot, the rose on the piano, set the stage for such a romantic journey under the summer moon. And the soundscape created through the piano and instrumental throw us into this endearing scene, one which is also tinged with melancholy. Feggari Kalokerino is not only an ode to this beauty, but also an admission of craziness for falling in love. With such pretty lyrics, one can't help but get enveloped in this pretty world, where everything is so beautiful. The combination of Yiannis' singing and the woman's piano playing is also quite cute, albeit with some...interesting undertones to it. Either way, it's classical yet timeless.

Personal ranking: 3rd/20 Actual ranking: 8th/20 in Dublin

#219: Liliane Saint-Pierre -- Soldiers of Love (Belgium 1987)

“Neem elkaars handen Smeed nou die banden toe Hoor je die verre kreet? Geen mens vraagt dat leed” “Take each other’s hands Come on, weld those bonds Do you hear that distant scream? Nobody asks for that suffering” Top ten opening themes of anime, haha. It also helps that "Soldiers of Love" is the English translation for the song "Ai no Senshi" from Sailor Moon (which I've listened to many times but haven't gotten that far into the anime...). That said, Soldiers of Love packs a punch with the instrumentation and the high intensity of the melody. The lyrics are a powerful battle cry, albeit one which advocates for peace amongst people. There’s so much energy and determination in Belgium’s host entry, one would prepare themselves for battle for a good cause. Liliane really delivers this earnestly and with determination, though sometimes the military-style get-up stands out to me the most when I watch it again. Though those two guitarists turning their ends as if they were firing guns is a cool thing to behold.

It's one of the host entries that is better than the song which one it for the country, which is something because J'aime la vie is considered a fan favorite.

Personal ranking: 6th/22 Actual ranking: 11th/22 in Brussels

#218: Beth -- Dime (Spain 2003)

"Cuántas veces te llamé en la noche Cuántas veces te busqué Por mis recuerdos yo vuelvo Y no pierdo la fe" "How many times did I call you in the night? How many times did I look for you? I return for my memories And I don’t lose faith" For some reason, Dime reminds me of "Die for You" from two years earlier--both feature modern pop bops with ethnic influences, both imploring about the state of a relationship (while they both want to make it wor. And they're both in the same key! At the same time, Dime holds its own as one of the strongest 2000s entries from Spain. They had similar flamenco/Latin inspired entries in 2001 and 2004, which were highlights in rather mediocre years because of their uniqueness overall. But the guitar flourishes here work well with the dance beat, and it provides its own fun.

Personal ranking: 3rd/26 Actual ranking: 8th/26 in Riga

#217: Svala -- Paper (Iceland 2017)

“Drawing every bit of my truth Colour me in with your blue” I didn’t actually pay attention to this song in the follow-up to the 2017 contest. I also didn’t watch the semi-finals, which could’ve led to me neglecting the song entirely otherwise, especially I've heard a lot about Blackbird during that time. However, the summer after the contest, I discovered the song and listened to it. And I liked it! (And then I got hooked with Svala's other songs through her different groups) I was interested particularly in the lyrics, which discussed a fight between one’s mental demons and anxiety. I like the English version more than the Icelandic one; the latter is a bit more optimistic on winning against the battle whereas the former really takes the issue seriously. The production, while a bit staid, added to the feeling of helplessness with its electronic coldness. The staging also tries to incorporate this, though it didn't work in making it stand out. (I did like Svala's cape and makeup, though!) While I do love "Hear them Calling" a lot, I had a more interesting journey with Paper--it grew until it became something I highly enjoyed. Personal ranking: 6th/42 Actual ranking: DNQ -- 15th in the first semi-final in Kyiv

#216: Live Report -- Why Do I Always Get it Wrong? (United Kingdom 1989)

“You can do what you want to do now...” Honestly, this has to be one of my favorite British entries ever. While "Go" from the previous year gets a lot of acclaim because of its songwriting and Scott's performance (along with how it ended up second in the end), "Why Do I Always Get it Wrong?" is better on how it envelops a mood and could actually be found from this era (though it sadly didn't do too well commercially afterwards, sigh)

Whenever I do something wrong, or self-hate, this is the song I turn to a lot. The synthesizers drew me in—it fit well with the late 1980s-early 1990s sound elsewhere. It's also helped that Celine performed "Where Does My Heart Beat Now" earlier in the contest, which piqued my interest. And while Ray’s ponytail was a choice, it didn’t distract from how he delivered the song.

Despite getting more 12-points, it ended up losing to Yugoslavia by just six points that year. While not my favorite that year, I think it was the better one of the top three; it equally reflects the times and holds up!

Personal and actual ranking: 2nd/22 in Lausanne

#215: Tommy Nilsson -- En Dag (Sweden 1989)

“En dag vi alla förstår, En dag, när stillheten rår, En dag jag finner din hand, När vägarna möts förstår vi varann,” “One day, we all understand, One day, when silence rules One day, I find your hand When our roads meet, we will understand each other” My two favorites from 1989 are sonically different, diverging between despair and hope. I listen to "Why Do I Always Get it Wrong" a bit more, but "En Dag' would stand out for me in a few different ways, more from being just the optimistic song of the two.

The intro features really good brass, which leads way to the fun instrumental. I like how it builds, and Tommy’s interplay with the backing vocalists is incredibly strong. You get a sense of energy from the both of them as they send the song to new heights.

Basically, it's just glorious!

Personal ranking: 1st/22 Actual ranking: 4th/22 in Lausanne

Final Impressions of 1989: It's a pretty fine year, both in songs in production. There are a number of good songs there, though not many classics which hold out in the long-term (except for Vi maler byen rød, which became famous in Denmark and even became the premise of a musical!). Highlights include an overactive conductor from Turkey, two children, and an awesome interval act involving a crossbow!

#214: Bang -- Stop (Greece 1987)

“Ότι κάνεις για δόξα και λεφτά Δες τι χάνεις, αλλού είναι η χαρά”

“Whatever you do is for fame and money See what you are missing, joy is somewhere else”

I’ve heard this song compared to Wham’s output, especially with its vintage rock-n-roll sound (wake me up before you go go). This doesn’t make it any less bad, with its charming tone and thoughtful lyrics about how a girl who only wants material goods should stop chasing them.

(This is another reason why sometimes, the original-language version is better that any other one--the English version to this song has goes on a completely different tangent)

The performance also falls into vintage aesthetics, with the suits for both Thanos and Vassilis and sock-hop style dresses for the backing vocalists. It's really cute, and the way they dance fits the scene.

On another note, apparently Greeks saw this as a favorite at the time, can someone verify that?

Personal ranking: 5th/22 Actual ranking: 10th/22 in Brussels

#213: Guy Bonnet -- Marie-Blanche (France 1970)

“Nous sommes là dans une douce quiétude Nous avons mis fin à notre solitude Nos corps apprennent de tendres habitudes Et Marie-Blanche est à moi”

“We’re there in a soft stillness We’ve put an end to our loneliness Our bodies learn tender habits And Marie-Blanche is mine”

By 1970, chanson was on its way out; in its place was folk, rock-n-roll (spearheaded in France by Johnny Halladay, who has a great French version of "House of the Rising Sun"), and psychadelia. Within France itself, some of the #1 singles from that year include Comme j'ai toujours envie d'aimer, Let It Be, and Bridge over Troubled Water (a total masterpiece, I tell you).

So, what does one make of Marie-Blanche, in this case?

It's a really sweet love poem, in which Guy declares his love for the girl. and conveys a particularly cute scene. Whenever I listen to this, I envision two lovers cuddling inside while watching the snow fall during the winter. There's a sense of magic and serenity in all this, and the lyrics match the pretty piano melody.

Basically, hits are important to keep the contest alive. But songs like Marie Blanche can pull on the feels in the right ways.

Personal ranking: 2nd/12 Actual ranking: =4th/12 in Amsterdam

#212: Justyna -- Sama (Poland 1995)

“I czuła się tak marnie Poczuła się tak marnie Jakby Bóg, dobry Bóg Nie lubił pcheł..”

“And I feel poor Feeling so poor As if God, the good God Didn’t love little fleas...”

If 1994’s To nie ja represented something classic and hopeful, 1995’s Sama takes it and reverses it. (And in the grand Eurovision timeline, they're only separated by the last song of 1994, Je suis un vrai garcon from France) Instead of a young woman filled with life and singing a decent ballad, we have another one pondering herself, all alone, with nobody to help her.

Also, this is more of an acquired taste with its out-of-tune recordings and Justyna’s scream. But it doesn’t feel out of place within the 1990s, with its alternative influences and production, and I like Sama a lot for that!

Unfortunately, it also caused it to do substantially worse, which is simultaneously explainable and baffling. A good result would've made waves for future Eurovision entries; the 1990s are my favorite decade, but they did misalign quite a bit from the mainstream.

Personal ranking: 7th/23 Actual ranking: 18th/23 in Dublin

#211: The Shadows -- Let Me Be the One (United Kingdom 1975)

"You and I could have an affair/make sweet music, go anywhere"

Isn't this lyric really charming? I couldn't help but have a little giggle because of it; there's a sense of naughtiness (especially with choosing "affair"; are they trying to something illicit?) underneath it.

That said, The Shadows are mainly known for their instrumental rock, but Let Me Be the One has a neat melody line. The rock-n-roll vibe, which could be released within that decade, is light but lovely, and added a jolt of uniqueness to the otherwise poppy contest up to that point. The flubbed line in the beginning ("let me be the one who literally holds you tight", haha) adds to the whole thing, but they were able to carry on, nevertheless.

And while I like all the 1970s winners to some extent, I would switch out "Ding-a-Dong" for Let Me Be the One in terms of winners vs. runners-up; like with Sama, it could've changed the contest in a positive way.

Personal ranking: =3rd/19 Actual ranking: 2nd/19 in Stockholm