#the song selection is quite strong this year

[betweenthetimeandsound]

GOD BLESS AMADEUS.

That is all.

[gutsby]

If You Like Piña Coladas

Pairing: Neighbor!Joel x Reader

Summary: You secretly make Joel a profile on Hinge. Then he shows you exactly why he doesn’t need one.

Warnings: 18+. Unprotected p-in-v. Oral (f!receiving). Foodplay (i.e., Joel fucks you with a fruit popsicle). Girthy, unspecified age gap. Mentions of blood.

Note: Loosely inspired by ‘Escape (The Piña Colada Song)’ by Rupert Holmes…minus the part about mutual infidelity LOL

Word count: 8.0k

Joel Miller had been on his own for too long.

The least you could get him was a date. Or even just laid.

Likes: Long walks on the beach

Actually…he hadn’t seen a coastline in ten years, at least. You backspaced slowly and then lowered Joel’s phone.

What did that old grump like to do, anyway?

In all the years you’d been living next door to Mr. Miller, you hadn’t seen him take pleasure in much of anything besides mowing his lawn, rolling his eyes, and screaming like a fiend alongside your dad at whatever game was on.

Likes: College football. Quality time with friends :-)

Nope. Corny as fuck. Backbackbackback.

You wiggled your thumbs over the keyboard in muted concentration. You knew you didn’t have much longer. Joel was currently engrossed in one of the three things he loved most—mowing long, careful rows through his backyard—and you were supposed to be watching the season finale of the Mandalorian while he did. That had been the pretext of your visit, anyway. It’d been a little over an hour since he’d stepped outside and a little under thirty since you’d let your curiosity get the better of you and seized his phone, so you figured he’d be back soon.

You had to think of something witty, and do it quick.

Feeling inspiration strike a second later, you typed:

Likes: Piña Coladas. Getting caught in the rain. Making love at midnight in the dunes on the cape.

Perfect. Easy. Everybody loved that song in the ‘70s.

Having thus put the finishing touch on Joel’s profile, you leaned back and let out a contented sigh. You scrolled. Flicked through photo after photo of your very own hand-picked selection and smiled, feeling proud.

You’d started him off strong and suave with a picture from Tommy’s wedding, wearing a tux that fit him well. Then a cool, casual snap of him at a brewery. A photo taken out on the lake, life jacket snug and showing off a sliver of his broad, bare chest. Then a picture of him at your graduation—you made sure to crop yourself out—followed by a candid shot of him playing dress-up with his niece. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that all the yet-unknown, lovely folks of Hinge would eat this shit up.

You set the radius to 100 miles. Beefed up the age range and gender preferences to include virtually every living soul over 30, tweaked a few more prompts to be cooler, then scrolled through his newly-minted profile. Again.

Oh, and— shit, wait.

Quickly, you toggled to the phone’s settings and disabled all notifications for Hinge. Then you grabbed the app and wrestled it somewhere deep within all the utilities ones that no one ever used. This had to stay hidden for now.

And, just as you stretched your thumb to make a couple last changes to his page, the back door thundered open.

Joel stumbled in, half-hunched. Rubbing his face with a towel and treading slow, heavy steps through the living room. With your heart about to burst from your throat and your impulses blown to shit, you panicked and crammed his phone in your shorts—like, in them.

Joel’s phone was just then settling above the groove of your ass when the man collapsed on the loveseat across the room. Instinctively, you drew your legs to your chest as Joel groaned and pulled the towel away from his face.

“The beast is at it again,” he declared, expression grim.

Before you could ask who ‘beast’ might be, he clarified:

“Marlene’s shit-for-brains labradoodle won’t quit diggin’ holes under my fence. Whole thing’s gonna fall if he—”

You didn’t mean to be rude, but you had to tune out the rest of what he said; your butt squirmed against the sofa as your neighbor’s phone traveled perilously down and took partial lodging between your cheeks. Then stuck.

There was no way you were getting caught like this. One stray phone call or text and you would have the world’s most jarring ringtone buzzing straight up your ass. And a very uncomfortable conversation with Joel, to be sure.

So, while he droned on about the chaos being wrought by the paws of old Sparky, you nodded to the window.

“Aw shit, Mr. Miller…did he just…dig up another?” You feigned surprise as you stared over Joel’s shoulder at a hole that didn’t even exist. Then, when he’d jumped to his feet and growled ‘No fuuuuuckin’ shot’ as he made his way over to the window, you acted fast and pulled the phone out of your ass and stuck the old, cracked thing on top of the coffee table where it’d been last and stood.

Before he could see—or say—anything else, you seized your own phone and made a swift beeline for the door.

Shouting over your shoulder, probably sounding like a fucking lunatic but not particularly caring either way:

“DAD’SCALLINGMEGOTTAGOMISTERMILLERBYE.”

And you left. You had no desire to explain your baseless, bullshit observation or why his phone was currently covered in a thin sheen of sweat from your butt.

You’d never seen so many roses in your life.

Joel Miller could legitimately give the whole Bachelor franchise a run for its money with all the goddamn virtual flowers he’d been getting from his Hinge admirers.

It’d been a week before you’d finally gotten the chance to abduct his phone again and check his ‘likes’ for yourself. Honestly, you hadn’t been expecting much—Joel was hot, but more so in a niche-ish sort of DILF-sexy way. You figured he’d be more of an acquired taste, really.

Once you’d scrolled through just over a hundred different messages, you realized at once how wrong you were.

‘GNAWING at the bars of my enclosure.’

‘Daddy? Sorry. Daddy? Sorry, I mean, Daddy?’

‘Need you in a way that is concerning to feminism.’

‘Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease.’

And that was truly just the tip of the iceberg when it came to all the wild, chaotic, and horny messages Joel had received over the last week. You couldn’t believe it.

You got to firing off responses as fast as you could. Sitting cross-legged on the back porch while your dad, Joel, Tommy, and a dozen other neighbors were busy grilling burgers and soaking up as much sun as possible.

The only other person who hadn’t joined them was Tess.

She peered over your shoulder and fought back a laugh.

“That man is a fuckin’ menace to society, I swear.”

“No, we’re a menace to society. All about team effort,” you corrected her as you typed up a lightning-quick ‘Hey ;-)’ to each message, fingers moving fast.

“He doesn’t even know you’re doing this!”

“He will soon enough,” you mumbled. Grinning. Then, “Mission’s not over until that old man gets his dick wet.”

You’d probably made it through seventy or so replies and got to go back-and-forth with a couple hot prospects by the time you heard footsteps trailing up the steps—heavy ones that you instantly recognized as Joel’s. Without another word, you exited the app, turned the phone off, and chucked it to Tess, who placed it discreetly onto the porch railing where Joel had left it.

That phone really should have had a passcode on it.

Two weeks later, it did.

You saw it as soon as you’d slid your thumb up the screen in the comfort of Joel’s living room—over at his place pretending to be watching your Star Wars spin-off again—and you felt your heart jump up in your throat.

Your passcode is required to enable Face ID.

Since when the fuck did your neighbor have a passcode? Or even know how to make Face ID a thing? Or use it?

These questions and a dozen more were thrumming through your skull when you heard the screech of the back door once again. This time, instead of taking his sweet time on his yard work, Joel had only been gone five minutes. You swallowed a scream and did that dumb, reflexive thing you had before: shoved his phone in your shorts and thrust yourself back into the couch.

Practically shaking when Joel stepped into the room.

Of course, he wasn’t sweaty. His shirt wasn’t smudged with flecks of dirt or swaths of green from the grass outdoors, nor were his Wranglers the slightest bit muddied. He was perfectly clean in a plain white tee, jeans, and boots. You couldn’t help but notice how tight the short sleeves of his shirt hugged his biceps, and then you realized it was because his arms were crossed.

Joel regarded you with a look as long and as careful as the rows he was supposed to be mowing out in the middle of his backyard right now, and he let out a breath.

“Guess what,” he said.

“What?” you squeaked.

Your eyes widened without meaning to, and when Joel plopped down on the sofa beside you, you felt a shiver pulse through your body. Joel stretched his big, wide, denim-clad legs out as he leaned back, and you had to force yourself not to jump when his knee struck yours.

“I’ve gotta brush up on my Gen Z lingo,” he announced.

Wh— okay? What the fuck?

Just as you opened your mouth to speak, and feeling the slightest twinge of relief at this declaration, Joel started to tug something out of his pocket. It took you several seconds to see it, then a couple more just to work out what it was, then Joel was squeezing it. Flipping it open.

An old Motorola Razr? When did he get that?

“See, I, uh— met a girl last week,” Joel resumed, plainly careless in the way he fingered the thing in his grip.

Your chest tightened. Had he really?

“She’s a little on the…younger side. You might know her.”

Oh shit. Was Joel banging one of your friends?

You swallowed hard and nodded for him to continue. You pretended not to notice when he flipped the phone open and left it that way—starting to thumb through the keys to do something on it. You fought the urge to take a look.

To distract yourself, you watched his face instead. It was lax.

“She said somethin’ kinda funny last night, and I—” Joel paused to let out a breath of a laugh, and you nearly broke down to steal a glance at what he was looking at.

Narrowly, you resisted. And it was a lucky thing, too—the next thing you knew, Joel’s gaze was fixed right on you.

“Y’know what she said to me?” he asked.

“What?”

Joel blinked. You probably should’ve heard the click of a little button on the phone he was holding, but you didn’t.

You did feel the vibration of another phone under your ass a second later, though. That one was unmistakable.

That one was Joel’s.

Out of one more stupid, senseless instinct, you coughed. Loud. Like the momentary scratch in your throat might reasonably mask the sound and sensation of a small hunk of metal buzzing between your butt and the couch.

It didn’t, of course. You sat and stared at Joel as it rang.

Slowly, he brought the Razr to his ear. At one corner of his mouth, you could discern the first inklings of a smirk.

“Wanna answer that?” he hummed, nodding to your rear.

Fuuuuuuuuuck.

You weren’t sure how you even had the strength to do it, but you reached back and plucked his phone out of your shorts. With your gaze still stuck to his, you answered it. Put it to your own ear out of habit—and a little bit of fear.

“Hello?” you said, stupidly.

“Hey.”

The second you heard Joel’s voice rumble out beside you on the couch and across the line, your heart dropped. Ironclad confirmation of all you didn’t want to believe.

You squeezed his phone even tighter and sincerely hoped the man couldn’t hear the wild, erratic beat of your heart as it throbbed and thudded in your chest. The noise was almost too loud for you to hear anything else, too fast-paced and frantic to discern another word until:

“Can you tell me what a ‘Hinge DILF’ is, darlin’?”

You rose to your feet, scarcely even realizing it.

You had to get off of that couch, had to get away from him and come clean, as calmly as you possibly could. The phone fell out of your grasp just as he ended the call.

“Shit— Mr. Miller— I-I-I-I can explain.”

Swiftly, suddenly, Joel recovered his phone from the floor. He set the other device aside and propped his feet on the coffee table, lounging a little more comfortably now that he could scroll the phone at his leisure. Before he did, though, he made a point to wipe the screen.

“Nothin’ I love more than ass sweat on my phone.”

Your cheeks heated to a thousand degrees.

You wished the ground below your feet would open up and swallow you whole. It was like you were floating somewhere over your own body, unable to move or speak. From this vantage point, and still paralyzed with fear, you could see Joel opening Hinge on his phone.

“Crazy how long the stuff sticks,” he mused aloud, starting to peruse his likes, “When you got up and high-tailed it outta my place that first day, I thought I must’ve been seein’ things—what with how wet my phone was.”

You would’ve closed your eyes in utter resignation if you’d had the strength. Joel had known this entire time.

The old man continued to scroll, cavalier as ever.

“I figured ya might’ve been havin’ some…personal time of your own on my phone—maybe your old man blocked PornHub on the home WiFi or somethin’—but then I kept diggin’ around…” As Joel spoke, his actions seemed to mirror his words, and he was really scoping out the app. Combing through profiles and roses and streams of old messages that you had sent, then shrugged to himself.

“…and all I found added up to jackshit,” he concluded.

This time, you managed to meet his gaze when he looked back up, but really, you hardly saw him at all.

Joel was smiling.

“I did see a text, though.”

He waved his phone, where a few messages were visible, though not legible, to you. You didn’t try to read them.

“‘Welcome to Hinge! Reply ‘C’ to confirm your phone number and get started,’” Joel rattled the first one off.

Of course you’d forgotten to delete the fucking text.

“And I know my memory’s all but gone to shit, but I didn’t remember ever replying ‘C’ myself, so then—”

“It was a joke,” you choked out, cutting him off.

Joel cocked a brow. He leaned even further back in his seat and crossed his feet. You were already vomiting words before he could attempt to get one out himself.

“N-Not a funny joke,” you clarified, voice shaking, “Fuckin’ stupid as shit, I just wanted to see— y’know— me and Tess were talkin’ ‘bout how hard it must be…in your…in your fifties— it’s just hard finding somebody.”

Joel didn’t know what you were trying to say, and his face showed it. You didn’t know what you were saying.

“So you think my sex life is a joke?” Mr. Miller quipped.

“NO!”

You hadn’t meant to say it so loudly. You quieted down:

“No. I didn’t…no. I just wanted to see who would…”

“…wanna fuck me?” he finished, blunt as ever.

If your face had been hot before, surely it was about to burst into flames right now. You didn’t get like this—not around Joel Miller, not around anybody—but here you were, chest constricting with humiliation and shame, wishing you were anywhere in the world but the place you were, and Mr. Miller was smiling, he was still smiling, and it was all you could do to just stand there and…stare.

And wince when tears started to prick at your waterline.

As if this day couldn’t get any more mortifying, you were actually crying in front of your neighbor, nose stinging and beginning to leak. Stupid, stuttered gasps leaving your lungs like you’d just learned to breathe yesterday, vision blurring the man in front of you and then dimming, momentarily, as you brought your hands up to your eyes and tried to shield this wretched display from his view.

You paced a couple hasty, blind steps away. You pressed the heels of your palms so hard into your sockets that stars started to dance behind your lids and a pain began to stab your brain. You continued to sob. It was just then dawning on you that you’d have to make a run for it now and never set foot near this man’s property again. You’d have to lock yourself away, never get to go to a barbecue again, probably face a restraining order from Joel and—

“FUCK!” you shrieked.

With all the grace of a giraffe on roller skates, you tumbled over Joel’s end table and took a nosedive into the floor. Your hands had no choice but to fly out in front of you in an effort to break your fall, and of course, they had to land on a lone, stray beer bottle on the ground.

One lovely little container of Corona Extra went splintering under the weight of your whole body, and briefly, before the thing exploded beneath your palm, you swore you could’ve heard a tiny, self-righteous voice:

‘¡La Vida Más Fina!’

Fuck you, Corona.

You’d never been more embarrassed in your life. Even if the bottle had managed to roll far enough to nick just the edge of your hand, slicing a minuscule strip of skin beneath your thumb, you still wanted to cry even harder. You looked pathetic, crumpled up beside this man’s couch with your wrist pinched between your fingers and your tears paving two steady streams down your cheeks. Hedged in by a field of shattered glass, you cast a look around yourself and whimpered. Then cursed. And cried.

You heard the shards around you crackle and snap even more when a pair of boots stepped in and crushed them.

Joel made easy work of your deadweight frame—your body hanging limply in his grip as he hoisted you up to your feet. Your vision was still as bleary as it had ever been, nose running and stinging and still struggling to take in breaths, but Mr. Miller’s hold was steady. He guided you into the kitchen and straight over to the sink.

Water ran. Wounds stung. A couple more sobs clawed out of your throat while Joel held your hand under the faucet, dabbed a paper towel across your hand to dry it off, then disappeared, momentarily, to retrieve what you assumed would be a first aid kit from the other room.

Instead, Mr. Miller returned with a fifth of Maker’s Mark. You eyed the bottle of whiskey in his hand and grimaced.

“N-Nuh-uh,” you blubbered, emphatic, “No way, man.”

“Uh, yes way, man,” Joel mimicked your voice, nose scrunching for dramatic effect as he elevated the pitch, “Like, you totally need this antiseptic so you don’t die.”

“I don’t s-sound like that!”

“I don’t so-o-und like that!”

Of course your neighbor couldn’t be assed to show an ounce of compassion to another person for more than two minutes. He drew closer with the whiskey. When he grabbed your wrist, you huffed and shook your head.

“That’s gonna hurt. I don’t want it.”

“Oh, cry me a fuckin’ river.”

Though as soon as he’d said it, the man winced a little. Maybe that had been a bit too harsh. You sniffled hard.

“Fuck you, Miller— I-I was doin’ you a favor!” you spat.

Tears and snot becoming the fuel for part of your newfound indignation, you shot Joel a look and scowled. You wrenched your hand out of his grip and made a point to rebuff the bottle of liquor as you moved back, shaking your head again. Mr. Miller stood there and watched you.

“Only time you ever leave this fuckin’ house is when you’re hangin’ out with my dad or your brother, you haven’t got shit else to do around here but mow that fuckass lawn and jerk off— I was tryin’ to help you out! Get you laid like any normal guy would like, but no, no— you’ve gotta go and be the world’s biggest ASSHOLE about it, just like you are with everything else. I’m sorry.”

Deep down, you were and weren’t remorseful at all.

You were sorry you’d gotten caught, ate shit over a side table and got your palm fucked up by a bottle of beer.

You weren’t as sorry that Joel seemed to be regarding you as a joke now—something to tease and poke fun at. Trying to pour his makeshift disinfectant over your cut and force you to obey his orders because you were just too dumb to figure it out yourself, then mock your voice.

Then watch you with tightly knit brows, eyes scanning your face with a skepticism that was almost palpable.

Condescending old fuck.

“What? Ain’t got nothin’ to say to that?” you seethed. Emotions running high—and humiliation momentarily usurped by anger—you stared him down and dared him to speak. You didn’t care what he thought of you now.

If it had been in your interest to care, you probably would’ve looked a little harder at what the man’s body language was communicating to you in the meantime. What his mouth was evidently loath to say, his hands and feet hardly displayed the same reticence: he set the bottle aside and stepped closer to you. He stared back.

It wasn’t until he’d approached near enough, had closed the space between your body and his with barely more than an inch or two to spare, and glowered down at you, face frozen with a frown, that your brain got the hint that he might not be the type to chicken out. Or back down.

He reached behind you and opened a cabinet.

“A favor,” Joel echoed, and you could tell he was trying his hardest not to replicate your intonation as he said it.

He’d just marginally checked his douchebag predilection, was closing the cabinet door beside your head and was starting to rock back on his heels, when a little cylindrical glass swung low in your line of vision. Joel held the tumbler loosely, then lifted it and pointed with his pinky.

“You,” he said, accusing, “fuckin’ suck at those—favors.”

Your stomach clenched at the sight of a slight, impish smile just then starting to frame the sides of his mouth. The featherlight grip he kept fastened on the glass, the ease of his stance, even the jab of that stupid, rough finger, still pointing at you, all bordered on nauseating. You fixed him with a pitiless look as he leaned in again.

And when his knuckles brushed your side, you tried not to flinch. You arrested his gaze without a word and let the smug, sun-tanned, sweet-as-shit-pie son of a bitch have his fill ogling you back and closing in on the bottle.

“What? Having half the tri-county population on Hinge ready to suck you off isn’t really your style?” you jeered.

Joel popped the cap and poured his drink. He shrugged.

“They ain’t you.”

As casual as if he’d just told you the weather forecast for the week ahead, his favorite place to eat, or the mundane specs on a construction project he’d been saddled with for months. Nothing of note. Nothing unknown. Just a routine admission of truth that sent your head reeling.

“You wh— w— well that’s—” you stammered, equal parts astonishment and exasperation as he continued to feed you steady, unrelenting doses of that look: “GROSS!”

You were standing stock-still, forced to watch that blip of a grin morph into a full smirk, slowly. He had to be joking.

“You are…fucked in the head, Miller. That’s not funny.”

Now you were the one pointing. Joel was drinking.

“—and I’d never in a million years even think—”

The side of your palm began to throb. It bled.

Blood was trickling down your wrist, roaring like thunder in your skull as your heart thudded away, impatient.

Impatient.

Impatient, impatient, impleeeeeeeeease fuck me, Joel, PLEASE!

Your libido a filthy, rotten traitor to all the rest of your better sense, you continued to stand there and suffocate on words like something akin to acid reflux in the throat. Your thighs snapped together, your back collapsed with equal force against the rigid set of cabinets behind it, and slowly, almost excruciating this time, you felt the pulse between your legs give way to a bout of warmth.

That cockhungry slut governing your bodily functions was actually getting wet for this asshole, and you were powerless to the effects of her wily, DILF-lusting ways.

“Gross,” you uttered out loud, again, reflexively—face overlaid with a look of horror as the heat began to pool.

And, as though the man had been endowed with the gift of infrared vision, or else just an external thermostat to gauge how hot you’d gotten between your two sweating legs, Joel brightened. His gaze flirted down to that soft, unseasonably tepid spot with a knowing look and then—

“Gross,” he parroted back. The smile behind his eyes said he wasn’t disgusted at all, just teasing some more.

When he pinched your wrist to get back to the business of blotting out blood with a paper towel, he kept that smug look painted across his creased, ancient face.

“‘S’that why ya made a Hinge for me? ‘Cause I’m gross?” Mr. Miller applied pressure to the still-bleeding cut, then directed your other hand to hold the paper towel in place.

You shook your head.

“No,” you started, trying not to wince before he turned. Again, the man ambled out of the kitchen, only to come back momentarily—finally—with a long-awaited bandaid.

“I mean…yeah, you’re a perv, but that’s beside the point.”

Joel exhaled a little harder through his nose. He pressed the underside of your palm again, ensuring the bloodflow had stopped, then swapped the napkin for the bandage. The adhesive might’ve been in place for two seconds before he was retreating again; this time, to the fridge.

“Then what was the point?”

Joel yanked one door open. You glanced over your shoulder to the one that led out to the back porch.

The longer you stayed, the harder it would be to go.

Go.

GO!

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly.

From where you were standing, you weren’t sure why you’d decided to make Joel the profile in the first place. Your curiosity, for one thing, had been one hell of a persuasive motivator to getting you scrolling on Joel’s behalf, but why did you care one way or another if your neighbor was drowning in pussy or enduring Sahara desert-levels of dick deprivation at his big age? It sure as fuck wasn’t your business to care, and nothing about Joel Miller had ever intrigued you consistently enough to venture an inquiry about his personal life before, so…

“Why?”

Joel was looming overhead again, the force of his presence like a fist through your chest. In an effort to steady your breaths, you turned your gaze away from his.

“I should go.” You couldn’t have dodged his last question more clumsily, or pathetically, if you’d tried, “It’s…late.”

Outside, the midday sun was still high in the sky, and there was nowhere in the world you had to be, Joel knew.

“Okay,” he said at length.

Then he leaned in closer and held something out.

“At least take one for the road, alright?”

And he was smiling, almost kind.

You looked down and—shit.

There it was, clear as day: a creamy piña colada popsicle.

The sneaky, conceited motherfucker had remembered what you’d written in his dating profile. You winced.

You accepted the cocktail popsicle without a word.

‘Thanks’ or ‘You’re a fucking pig, Miller’ likely would’ve sufficed for a farewell on any account, but by then, you were far too shell-shocked—and frankly, incredulous—of everything that had just transpired over the course of the last thirty minutes. You didn’t thank Mr. Miller, nor insult him by likening him to swine or any other thing; you left.

Your feet carried you fast out of his house.

Down the steps of his back porch, across pristine, power-washed concrete, past seemingly endless beds of hibiscus blossoms, marigolds, cape plumbago, and those god-awful periwinkle plants—who the fuck enjoyed gardening in a heatwave, anyway?—you practically sprinted away in a fugue state until the toes of your shoes hit the edge of your lawn, then you stopped.

“FUCK!”

You’d forgotten your phone.

It felt as though your body were turning in slow motion, and for a second, you seriously considered abandoning the device altogether and begging your dad for another. Then you set your sights on the wide, uninviting exterior of the back of your neighbor’s house, the place you’d just been hauling ass to escape, and almost rolled your eyes.

Joel was leaning back against the frame of his open back door, arms crossed, expression smug as he watched you.

It was extraordinarily difficult to throw a half-decent punch at a man while wielding a popsicle in your hand.

“Give it back!” you barked.

“Give what back?” Joel grinned, easily side-stepping what struck him as neither a punch nor a slap—in fact, the hit never struck him at all. He laughed as it missed.

“You know what.”

Of course, you’d gone back. Of course, Joel had tried to play dumb and pretend like you’d never left your phone behind at all. And of course, he hadn’t budged until you’d threatened to shove your left foot so far up his ass his dentist would be picking toes out of his teeth for weeks.

‘Violent little thing, ain’t ya?’ Joel had replied, chuckling.

Then, when he’d attempted to brush you aside with a patronizing wave of his hand and an admonition to run on back to daddy and quit buggin’ me, all bets were off. You’d aimed right for center mass and nearly dropped your frozen treat with how hard you’d shoved his chest.

That was how the conversation had started.

That was how the so-called ‘altercation’ had come to be—Joel easily swatting you off and indulging you no further than to chuckle and laugh and taunt you like an older brother who was faced with a sibling half his size—and all the while, your injured hand was throbbing again. White, sticky rivers of melted popsicle now trickled down your wrist instead of blood, and you were just as pissed.

“Listen—” Joel began, catching a fist meant for his face.

“Gimme my fuckin’ phone, Miller!”

“—you—”

“Can go to hell.”

“—owe me.”

“Owe you?!”

You stopped. Your weak, one-handed assault was halted just long enough to peer into Joel’s eyes, and the gaze that met yours was solid. Sincere as you’d ever seen it and blinking slow as the chocolate browns of his irises moved lower over you. Whether they were drinking you in, sizing you up, or merely plotting your demise by calculated turns, you could have been no more certain, or prepared to hear, what came out of his mouth next:

“Wanted to do me a favor, didn’t ya? C’mere.”

And the next thing you knew—or felt—was one thick finger hooking into your belt loops. One swift tug in his direction, another light push toward the old wood railing to your side, and then more fingers crowding in, crawling over, seizing the coarse denim material and pulling hard like the thing was the single most annoying impediment.

“Take these off,” Joel grunted.

You were too stunned to move. Even breathing felt like a chore, every last sense elevated to impossible heights, it wasn’t surprising at all when Joel just went and did it all himself. In a blink, your shorts were yanked down and then dropped to your ankles, your legs guided backward in shuffled steps, and then, nearly tripping in the fabric at your feet, you fell back, ass smacking the flat railing. You winced at the warm, knotty texture of the cedar beneath you and, out of habit, shot the old man a look.

Joel cocked a brow in response, likely already knowing what that glare from you was intended to convey, and instead of giving voice to any words himself, just sank.

Lower and lower and lower, until his knees were the only things holding him upright on the floor before you and his hands were pressing—melting—into your thighs.

Audibly, his kneecaps cracked.

You couldn’t help but giggle.

While Mr. Miller’s mouth moved dangerously close to a place you should’ve been appalled to see him go, all you felt capable of doing in that absurd moment, it seemed, was laugh. You gripped the thick white column beside you, scooted back slightly until you were in a comfier seated position, then snagged your lower lip between your teeth to contain the sound, but it was of no use.

Joel was both drooling and scowling between your legs.

“That funny, huh?” he managed in a low, ragged breath, “Sound’a some crackin’ joints on a man as old as me?”

“Yeah,” you said. Smug, for once.

Admittedly, any other normal person in your position would’ve been concerned with about a million different, more pressing issues—namely, your neighbor and dad’s best friend sticking his face between your legs—but really, after all the frivolity, commotion, and fucking insane behavior the two of you that day, it was like your brain had logged off and left the body to its own devices.

You didn’t mind that for right now.

When Joel’s tongue grazed the space between the cusp of your panties and inner thigh, you really didn’t mind.

Fuck it. If this was the favor he’d wanted after all, so be it.

As if reconsidering the foray of his mouth for the time being, Joel tilted back a little: just far enough to get his hands on your underwear and start tearing those down your hips too. One short, hot puff of air from his lips was a bliss unto itself, and your knees instinctively kicked up. With the thin white fabric barely halfway down one calf, you hooked your ankle over Joel’s shoulder and cursed.

“My daddy’s gonna kill you for this, Mr. Miller.”

And, for what felt like the thousandth time, Joel smiled.

Bigger this time, as if to show he didn’t really care at all what the man next door was liable to say or do about his present endeavor as long as he got to stay. You let him.

He pressed a kiss to your slick, puffy lips and hummed.

“Fine by me.”

Without another word the tip of the man’s tongue glided up the length of your slit and curled in, drawing your arousal between his lips in a hungry sort of kiss, and then sank even deeper. Going nose-deep in just one go, the old man looked positively obscene burying his face so far inside; his features alone a cruel, unseemly sort of fixture between legs as smooth and supple and warm as yours—how did a man so many years your senior get to be so lucky?—and somewhere further, in the darkest recesses of your mind, the sight sparked desire. A hunger, really.

Seeing that silver, stubbled chin getting drenched in your wetness, the weathered lines of his face growing even deeper with each new movement of his tongue, the strain in his neck with muscles that were firm and taut and so visibly aged with decades and decades of life—

You adored it.

A man Joel’s age never looked more out of place and still somehow perfectly fit for the space between your thighs.

You lowered the hand that was cradling your popsicle, braced your weight against the railing with the other, and then pressed on either side of his skull with your legs, quiet moans tumbling one after the next off your tongue.

“‘S’all for me?” Joel breathed, licking and suckling kisses along your clit, “This sweet, needy pussy’s all mine?”

“All yours.”

You scarcely recognized the sound of your own voice. Your legs were shaking. Though you loved to see him make you come undone, piece-by-piece, you also couldn’t bring yourself to stare a second longer, stimulation too great and his tongue too good.

If he kept going at a rate like this, you’d have no choice but to cum, and you didn’t want to be done just yet. Or ever. You refocused your gaze to look down and tell him as much, when your mouth fell open around a gasp, rather than words, and the weight in your hand fell away.

Swiftly, Joel took the popsicle in his own grasp and slid it down to the vicinity of his lips and tongue, now grinning.

The thing was half-melted by now, having sufficiently soaked half your forearm and leaving a vague, sugary aroma in its wake, but it was still intact. Still unlicked—unlike you—and still perfectly cool and light and long. The off-white hue was almost taunting in the way it winked and caught rays of the sunlight shining behind you, and as the man slid it even lower, you jumped back.

“Joel,” you hissed.

“What?” he hummed.

“That’s not—” You blinked, swallowing a moan.

“Not what?”

One warm, callused hand pressed the tip of the frozen thing to your bundle of nerves—the first contact it had had since Joel’s tongue—and you let out a low whine.

Even after all that time in the sun, the popsicle seared your soft, wet, aching parts with a biting cold you’d never thought possible. It sent waves of a strange, trembling pleasure coursing through your lower half and left your head with no choice but to moan. And fist Joel’s hair in a vice-like grip when he angled the wooden stick lower.

Suddenly, the white, sticky head slipped from your clit to the rim of your yet-untouched entrance, and that made your muscles leap to attention once again. You cursed.

“Not what, honey?” Joel pressed, with affection—and as he did, sank the tip of the popsicle deeper inside you.

“Th— that’s not—” You were shaking your head, racking your brain for any trace of the English language and failing miserably, “Not…doesn’t…g-go there, fuck.”

Joel sank the pretty, dribbling popsicle another inch inside your pussy and sucked a whistle through his teeth. If your senses weren’t as raw and utterly shot as they were, you likely would’ve seen the expression on his face transform from one of pleasure and amusement to awe, eyes darkening at the sight of your hole opening wider.

“That’s it, baby, take it,” he cooed, voice low.

Another couple soft utterances of ‘Joel,’ and your legs only parted wider. Free to grip his hair, the railing, the column beside you, or just the insides of your own palm as the icy sensation sank inwards and into your body, you whimpered. Your hips, instinctively, bucked toward the source, and you heard Joel’s groan join your sounds.

He withdrew his new toy just far enough to make you mewl for him again, then drove it deeper. With the friction of that, a stream of white went trickling out.

Joel couldn’t help himself; he flattened his tongue against the stream and licked you clean from the spot where he’d split you open to the cusp of your clit. He circled that place over and over, worked the object in his hand even further inside and back out again, then, getting a taste of your arousal with the white, wet, sticky-sweet juices starting to mix together, he moaned.

It was a guttural sound, something just shy of the ‘feral’ demarcation but at least ten steps ahead of desperate. You relished the gruff, throaty sound reverberating from his lips to your cunt, the way your walls fluttered around it and for him, and were just about to throw your head back and grind your hips even harder when it stopped.

Joel stopped. He started to get up.

Quickly for him, but slow as molasses from your point of view, the man straightened from his place on the hard wooden floor and expelled a breath. His chest heaved, and his torso twisted to one side, momentarily, to get the strain out of his back as best he could. From where you sat, the spattering of grey in his beard seemed to glisten even brighter with the sheen of your arousal now sticking in it. He wiped his chin and reached in between your legs.

“Got any favors left in ya, sweet pea?” he smirked.

Fortunately for you, it didn’t sound like a question at all, and didn’t appear to be intended that way, as the next second had Joel pulling the largely-spent popsicle out of your slick and straight into your mouth. He didn’t inquire whether he could push it down on your tongue and make you taste your own cunt on the thin wooden stick, but the smile on your lips assured him that was fine by you.

Nor did he ask for your permission to flip you around, bend you over his porch railing, and take your hips in his hands. You were still sucking down the last traces of sugar and citrus and a vaguely tangy taste when you felt the head of something else prod your soft, wet folds.

Much bigger—and warmer—than the thing that had breached you before, Joel nudged at your hole with the tip of his cock, coated the head of it in light, gentle circles, and sucked in a breath. He didn’t have to ask, and you didn’t need to answer; he just parted your walls with the force of one steadying thrust, and the pulse of that sharp, dizzying pleasure was back in an instant.

Shared this time, and manifesting in sounds from you and Joel alike: you gritting the stick between your teeth and managing muffled cries of his name and whatever expletives you could scream, Joel with ragged breaths.

For a man who ostensibly hadn’t fucked since the Clinton administration, he was off to a pretty good start.

Joel gripped your hip even tighter and started to saw his cock in and out of your dripping, pliant hole, his other fist finding purchase in your hair for more leverage. His thrusts were shallow enough at first to get you used to the new stretch, and you could feel him making space in a way no man’s girth ever had before. You couldn’t see his face, but you imagined it had come to settle into a mix of guilt, rigid composure, and pussydrunk pleasure.

“Good girl,” Joel murmured behind you. Then, groaning, “Good fuckin’ girl, keep squeezin’ my cock just like that.”

You felt a slap on the ass and the speed of his thrusts pick up in turn. Your mouth fell open in a moan, and the stick on your tongue almost slipped out of place when, shortly, Joel leaned over your body and pulled you back. He snagged the popsicle stick between his teeth just in time to get your back flush with his front—in perfect position to get fucked against the nearest column.

Breaths coming out in short, ragged grunts in your ear, Joel teased the side of your face with the stick, then nudged it back in your mouth. You sucked it softly.

“One more favor, baby?” he panted against your cheek.

You nodded, not knowing what it was but that you wanted to be the one giving it. Joel pulsed inside you.

With every stab of his cock, every string of your wet, messy, combined arousals making the most profane noises imaginable between your body and his, you were squeezing him tighter and teetering on release. Joel’s hand snaked down between your legs, and just as the head of his cock nudged against that spot, you keened.

“Any favor?” Joel groaned and nipped at your earlobe.

The heft of his stomach and chest made for a warm, sturdy place to start rocking your hips, greying peach fuzz at the base of his belly a small comfort as you writhed against his body and whined that you’d do anything, anything he wanted, as long as he let you cum.

Joel’s middle finger found your clit, and you nearly screamed at the welt of pleasure coming to a head. Again, the popsicle stick tumbled out, but neither one of you could be bothered to try and keep it in this time.

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

The man behind you didn’t even attempt to conceal his grin as he leaned closer, hugging your body to his while he circled your clit and fucked you harder, lips straying every now and then to press a kiss on your shoulder. He plunged his cock deeper and was met with a squeezing, leaking mess trickling down his length and onto his balls, growing louder with each new wet slap against your ass. The old man was a tease, but he couldn’t hold on forever.

“Wanna fill you up,” Joel groaned.

“Cum inside?” you murmured.

You were barely able to tilt your chin to him, but when you did, he held it—made you look him in the eyes and, for once, give your unequivocal permission to do it then.

And you did.

You were startled to find Joel’s lips crashing against yours in the next second, mouth overwhelmed with the remains of your own taste, his tongue, and a series of relentless, hammering thrusts. It was only a matter of moments, then, before your resolve gave way and his followed suit, and the waves of pleasure between you both manifested in ropes of sticky, hot cum painting your walls. Joel held you closer, as though needing to feel his seed as he fucked you through it, groaning when he felt it start to move with each sharp, stuttered thrust.

You panted in his mouth coming down. You kissed him back. You almost couldn’t believe the sensation between your legs, soon to come dripping out and undoubtedly bound to make a mess all over the floor of Joel’s porch.

Equally unbelievable was the fact that you’d just fucked your neighbor in broad daylight, outside, with Marlene’s house directly to your left and your own on the right.

You stared out at the sprawling expanse in front of you—Joel’s impeccably kempt yard, one of the reasons why you were standing where you were just then—and, as you’d found yourself before, you felt the urge to laugh.

Not on account of Joel’s old, ailing knees, this time.

Clearly, the man still trying to catch his breath behind you suspected that that might’ve been the case, though, because you felt him shift his weight and grunt, lightly.

“What’s so funny? My knees crack when I cum, too?”

You could feel the smallest of scowls start to take shape, muted momentarily with kisses that he pressed on your cheek, and others, still more teasing, down your neck.

You let him, unfazed and still giggling. Then pointing.

It seemed Joel was loath to detach his lips from your neck—or his cock from the place he’d just stuffed full—but when you lifted your finger to indicate a direction toward the side of his backyard, his senses perked up.

There, along the white picket fence between his yard and Marlene’s, was the furry, merciless, lawn-destroying labradoodle that had been plaguing Joel’s life for years.

The man was out of you in an instant. He yanked his jeans up even quicker, tucking his dick back, clumsily, into its place in a fit of rage, then cupping his hands:

“WILL YOU FUCK THE HELL OFF, SPARKY?!”

[flatassthrowaway]

Passionately and Deeply

~Chapter Two~

New to the series? Read the prologue!

As always, let me know what you think! Enjoy!

“Well, perhaps if you’re Irish, you may enjoy the leprecorn,” he told me about his most vexing oddity that he discovered in his younger years as we strolled through the streets of downtown Gravity Falls.

“And it plays ‘Danny Boy’ through its horn? Come on Ford! You don’t like that song?” I asked.

“The song itself is fine. The way that leprecorn plays it is maddening,” he said, making me laugh.

We’ve been hanging out like this since that fateful night when his brother was mean to me. That was almost a month ago, and it’s the first day of spring.

Since then, I found that he lives at a tourist trap called the Mystery Shack with his twin brother. He also neglected to tell me he had a twin brother. Soos (who is the one who runs the show) aka Mr. Mystery, Melody, and Abuelita also live there, and his great-niblings also come to visit during the summer.

That shack looks so small from the outside, but… it must be one of those houses that’s actually a lot bigger on the inside.

I would know, because I actually spent quite a bit of time in that house. While Ford was working on his projects, I took the time to either complete my work alongside him or raid his bookshelf. When I raided his bookshelf, I found that he had the Lord of the Rings series. That series always interested me, but I never got a chance to read them.

Ford also introduced me to a game he adored called Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons. Thankfully, he guided me along the way, but it was confusing when first starting. I did enjoy FCLORPing, which seemed similar to this, so it ended up being fun for me too once I started to catch on, and I knew what the rules were.

I also hooked up an Apple TV to their own TV (which was surprisingly compatible with the newest technology, but I’m not going to question it), and we’ve been watching documentaries on Netflix. From Blackfish, to Mission Blue, it’s held our attention pretty well.

And it’s bonded us closer. Not only us, but Soos, Melody, and even Abuelita.

Speaking of Soos and Melody, she is about to give birth any day now. She is officially on bed rest, and Abuelita and Soos pamper her.

I hope I have that when I start having children. I’ve been longing for a strong, familial unit of my own for a while now.

The only one who still isn’t my biggest fan is Stan. I thought since I showed everyone who I was that he would start to ease up on his rough attitude towards me, but… no. He still doesn’t like the fact that I’m hanging around his brother.

It’s making me question if I’m doing something wrong. It’s a little too late to say that Ford and I should stop being friends, because we would both be hurt in the long run. We work really well together, and… honestly, I can’t picture not having him in my life anymore.

“Hey,” Ford said my name. “Are you up for a little trek? I want to show you something that I’ve only shown a select few.”

“Really? What is it?” I asked.

Ford smiled. “It’s something so rare, not even my brother has seen it. Only my closest friend and my great nephew have seen this.”

“C’mon, quit holding out on me, dude! You have to show me this thing!” I nudged his shoulder.

Ford put his hands up in defense, smiling jovially. “Alright, alright,” he said, as if he wasn’t the one who tried to get me all excited to see this object of his suggestion. “If you insist.”

I rolled my eyes playfully. “Shut up!”

“I never said anything, dear.”

We walked along a path into the forest, where I admired all of the wildlife along the way. Deer, squirrels… gnomes… minotaurs… handsome men…

Wait, what?!

I whipped my head around as we walked to look at a random blonde haired blue eyed man in designer clothing sniffing the ground as if he were a dog, and lifted his bottom in the air as he walked on all fours.

Ford had noticed I stopped, and grabbed my shoulders to keep me moving. “Come along, dear.”

I looked over my shoulder to keep staring at that man. That was a sight I never thought I’d see. It’s almost like that man was completely feral. I looked up at Ford, and he was completely unfazed.

Well, it’s Gravity Falls. If it’s not weird, that’s what’s unusual.

We arrived at a clearing that overlooked a strange shape in the cliff facing it. It was mostly what you’d expect a grassy clearing to look like, except there was a small hill in the middle of the clearing.

“Woah… what is this place?” I asked, in awe of its beauty.

“This is the Crash Site Omega or the CSO for short,” he told me. “It’s a place that… well… only the closest people to me have seen.”

“I can see why,” I told him, turning to see the town. “The view from here is amazing! You can almost see the whole town from here.”

He smiled. “Exactly,” he said. “And… there’s also another reason why I brought you here.”

I turned to him as he walked up to where I was standing. “Yeah? What’s that?” I asked.

“Later tonight, I was planning to stargaze here. Apparently, a meteor shower is supposed to take place at eight thirty,” he told me. “I checked the calculations myself, and for once, the news is correct. And… I would like it if you joined me.”

I nodded eagerly. “Definitely! This will be my first meteor shower!” I told him.

Ford smiled. “This will be the first meteor shower that I’ve seen in over thirty years,” he told me.

“Now we have to make it extra special!” I said, before my face dropped. “What does one bring to a meteor shower to make it special?”

He chuckled. “For starters, some may bring lawn chairs or blankets, but I settle for the latter,” Ford said. “They’re much comfier to sit upon.”

“Ah, that’s it!” I exclaimed. “I’ll provide the hot chocolate! We just… have to meet in town again. I don’t know how to get back here, even if I tried.”

Ford chuckled. “Not to worry, dear,” he told me. “You can meet me by that clock with the fist indent in the pole at 7:30.”

I smiled. “Great! It’s a date. See ya later, Ford!” I told him, going on my way back to town.

Before I could even make it a yard away, Ford called my name. “The way to town is that way,” he told me, pointing in the opposite direction to where I was going.

I felt my face get hot with embarrassment. “I knew that,” I told him. “I was just testing you to make sure you knew that, too.”

Ford laughed at my bullshit excuse. “Let’s get you to town safely,” he said as he began leading the way.

“My hero!” I cheered, running to catch up with him. He cracked a smile, and looked at the trees. His ears turned a little red… unless they were already red from before. I mean, it is the first day of spring, so it is still a little cool.

Ford led me back to town, and from there I bought a whole box of hot chocolate. I returned around 7:30 to the clock with the fist indented pole with my thermos and two mugs and waited for him to arrive. Thankfully, he didn’t keep me waiting long, and had the flannel blanket underneath his arm.

“Shall we get going, my dear?” he asked.

I nodded, smiling at him. “We shall.”

We both softly laughed as we made our way back to the Crash Site Omega, or the CSO to set up camp. Ford straightened out the blanket on the grass as I poured the hot chocolate in the mugs.

Once he was finished, we both sat on the blanket and placed our mugs together with a small clink. Afterwards, we watched over the night sky with no sound but the crickets playing their lovely melody for us.

After a while, the meteor shower started. Never did I see so many natural lights in the sky at once. It was breathtaking, how the meteors danced across the sky. I couldn’t take my eyes off of the display that nature had gifted us on this sunday night.

Good thing I’m off tomorrow.

The peak activity started to die down a few hours later, and Ford decided to break the comfortable silence between us by calling my name. I looked at him.

“You know, it’s rather rare for a meteor shower to be so visible at this time,” he said with a smile on his face. “They usually appear after midnight, and this is usually due to the fact that the Earth is facing forward in its orbit, which means more space debris may be encountered.”

“Woah… that’s so riveting,” I said, looking at the night sky again.

It started to hurt to crane my neck to look up at the night sky, so I laid down on the blanket. I think Ford had the same idea, as he laid down next to me.

“Ford.”

“Yes, dear?”

“What do you think happens when we die?” I asked.

“What an abrupt question…” he said.

“I don’t know why staring at this meteor shower triggered it, but… I was just curious what you thought.”

“Well…” he started. “I believe there is some sort of afterlife.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” he said. “To be honest… I believe that when we die, we gain all the knowledge we lacked in this life, as without our physical bodies holding us back… we can achieve so much more as spiritual beings.”

“Wow… Stanford, that’s really profound…”

“Isn’t it?” he said. “That, and we get to traverse the universe without harm. We are observers, but there is the rare chance that we can meddle in the physical world, just very subtly, though.”

I sighed with a smile. Being here, with him… it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside… almost as if the voice inside of me is telling me that I was supposed to be here, at this exact time, in this exact location, with this exact person, talking about… this.

This must be what it feels like to be at peace.

“What about you, dear? What do you believe?” he asked.

“I believe the same as you, believe it or not,” I told him. “I feel a strong lull from the universe, like I am exactly where I need to be at this moment.”

I’m being really vulnerable with him right now… maybe a little too vulnerable.

He must think I’m insane for saying something like that.

“It’s extraordinary that you said that,” he said my name, looking into my eyes. “Because I feel the same way. I was supposed to be here at this exact moment… with you.”

I smiled serenely, looking into his copper brown eyes. “So you feel the same way.”

Ford nodded, looking back at the night sky. “I… was honestly afraid of how quickly our relationship formed,” he admitted. “I thought I had been finally losing my mind… but I think I finally found someone with whom I can be my complete self.”

I felt my eyelids become heavier as I turned my gaze to the meteor shower, maintaining my smile. “I completely concur…” I said, my eyelids closing.

💚

A/N: I've been thinking about uploading on Saturdays instead of Fridays for this series, but it depends on how I feel. If you've read to this point, thanks for reading!

Next part is here! Click for childfree route!

Click for other route!

[extraordinaryhistories]

#21 - 'Woman at the Well' (non-album track, 2000)

Beware, traveller: here we enter the most uncharted territories of Sufjan’s catalogue. All sorts of terror in these parts. But all sorts of beauty, too.

Sufjan Stevens’ output, when fully collated, is just staggering. To think that he by all accounts leaves the overwhelming majority of his songs unreleased. By my count, he has upwards of 300 released tracks across all sorts of albums, collaborations, soundtracks and modern classical cycles. He is so prolific that you can stratify his output into multiple, accessibility-based tiers:

Tier One: the heavyweight albums. Illinois, Carrie and Lowell, Age of Adz and Javelin, plus ‘Mystery of Love’ and ‘Visions of Gideon’.

Tier Two: the other mainline albums ­– Michigan, Seven Swans, The Ascension and A Beginner’s Mind, plus All Delighted People.

Tier Three: the most obscure full-length albums and collaborations. A Sun Came, Planetarium, the Sisyphus project, Aporia, Convocations and similar material.

Tier Four: where we start to get deep under the surface. His Christmas material goes here, as do projects like The Decalogue, Reflections and The BQE. Some of his one-off track collaborations, like Moses Sumney’s ‘Make Out in My Car’, are here too. Things that you can probably find on streaming, but that only the most dedicated of fans would care about.

Tier Five: the bottom of the trench. These are songs that many of those most dedicated fans will have never heard unless they are in way too deep. Piecemeal inclusions on no-name compilations, surprise Tumblr releases of demos made twenty years prior, one-off live songs like ‘Wild Horses’. The Wild West of Sufjanilia, where oddities abound.

There are few artists for which anybody could say this: Tier Five contains some of Sufjan’s absolute finest material. Without a shadow of a doubt.

This is especially the case in the very early days. I get the impression that we have only seen a miniscule fraction of the music that Sufjan wrote from the mid 1990s up through Michigan – this was a feverishly experimental period for him, catalogued in all its scattershot glory on A Sun Came but extending its reach far beyond that album. It seems that Sufjan made enough connections and was subject to enough blog-centred hype around the turn of the millennium to get featured on a swathe of multi-artist compilations, as well as other obscure releases. These are remarkably hard to track down these days, but enough internet scouring will lead you to an underbelly of Sufjan’s catalogue that most people don’t even know exists. Thus we get a series of isolated songs, many of which are barely above demo quality, scattered across CDs and mp3s and placed next to artists who have never been heard from since.

B-sides and non-album tracks of artists quite often have that status for a reason. Most artists have the same recording method: enter the studio, build up a series of tracks from loose ideas, select the cream of the crop for the album release, and discard of the chaff. Some of that chaff will be saved for bonus tracks, b-sides to physical releases, or ‘outtakes’ on deluxe editions released decades from now – filler that will appeal to big fans and few others. There is a very strong correlation between distance from the main release and a lack of quality, is my point here. This is the case for the majority of acts. There is a reason that most people don’t consider there to be many exquisite Beatles outtakes, for instance – likewise for Pink Floyd, or The Smiths, or the bulk of other classic bands.

For Sufjan, however, the recording method has always been different. Sufjan is fiercely varied and fiercely focused at the same time – his albums differ wildly in style, but each individual project coalesces around a very particular sound. And because he so insistently curates his albums, nothing on them feels out of place stylistically.

As with other artists, there are a lot of Sufjan songs that don’t make the big leagues. What makes them different is this: their exclusion would have been based less on quality and more on style. Sufjan was just relentless around the period following A Sun Came, and it shows – for every one song that found its way onto a compilation or Tumblr drop, we must imagine ten that didn’t, forever confined to a dusty four-track in a closet or a file on some buried hard drive. He eventually settled on the creative direction of Enjoy Your Rabbit, but this did not stop him writing a plethora of folk, rock and electronic music around this time too, and these songs show the rapidly maturing songwriting of a genius in the making. There are some truly astonishing songs in this creative nether region – they are not quite as mature as the ones that would be found on Michigan, but they are approaching that point with an unstoppable inertia.

And so we go to ‘Woman at the Well’, an unassuming classic of early Sufjan and a song in which we can see clear progression from the A Sun Came days. The steps forward in sophistication are palpable here – ‘Woman at the Well’ is many things that A Sun Came’s songs are not. It is well-recorded, for starters; we are not yet at the hi-fi perfection of Illinois, but there is none of that cassette-derived background noise that dominates the softer songs on Sufjan’s debut. The acoustic guitar sparkles, the drums (lightly) punch, the vocals feel immediate and alive, and all of it comes together to make a song of relieving clarity, like stepping out of a log cabin and getting a breath of the mountain air.

The whole song feels that way, in fact. This one is easy, expansive, effortless, three terms that do not apply to much of A Sun Came. We can put this partially at the feet of the arrangement, which strikes a comfortable balance between layered and intimate: guitars and banjo are supplemented by a cosy array of instruments, among them glockenspiel, organ, drums and recorder, all Sufjan staples that hadn’t been applied with this sort of subtlety up to this point. This is a strum-heavy singer-songwriter tune at its heart; a maturing Sufjan understands this, and uses the additional instruments not to overwhelm the song but to make it richer. Compare with a song like ‘Wordsworth’s Ridge’, where the various elements seem to fight for attention in the arrangement. ‘Woman at the Well’ has a similar palette, but the individual instruments mesh together in service of the chord progression – many components, one machine. How refreshing.

‘Woman at the Well’ bucks trends in nearly every sense but lyrically. This is still an early Sufjan song, and its lyrics are very typical of early Sufjan in that they are unambiguously Christian in sentiment. The song provides a poetic account of an event that transpires in John, in which Jesus encounters and converses with a Samaritan woman. Samaritans and Jews, per tradition, met each other with hostility; the power of the story lies in how Jesus offers redemption to a woman that many other Jews would spurn (a common theme in the Gospels, with echoes in other anecdotes and parables.)

Many great artists, especially during the Italian Renaissance, took artistic inspiration from the story of the Samaritan woman. Sufjan does so too in ‘Woman at the Well’, but in a typically wry manner. Sufjan seems fascinated particularly with the image given in John 4 of Jesus as a giver of living water:

‘those who drink of the water that I will give them will never be thirsty. The water that I will give will become in them a spring of water gushing up to eternal life’ (John 4:14).

Thus the lines in the second verse about how ‘she supposes he is wet / She was a fountain then’, the message being that Jesus’ eternal capacity for salvation and grace invigorates all those who love him. He is a fountain, so she is a fountain, and she overflows now with goodness. It feels as if this continues the shift in Sufjan’s religious songwriting that we first see in ‘Joy! Joy! Joy!’, and in a lot of the other flotsam recorded between A Sun Came and Michigan. Very early songs like ‘We Are What You Say’ features God as a terror, in the wrathful, apocalyptic Old Testament sense. Here we see a more inviting New Testament sense of God that focuses on love and salvation, just as Jesus preached. There is a hint of Yahweh in the chorus (‘In fire, in fire, down to the last liar’, a very Revelations image), but ‘Woman at the Well’ is otherwise a song of Jesus through and through.

A song of Jesus in a quirky way, though. Sufjan can’t help himself. The Samaritan woman is described in this song not as a fountain but as a ‘fountain pen’ for the majority of its sections. What significance? Little, or everything, depending on your point of view. This is likely just a piece of free-associative wordplay that has the additional effect of making the song’s rhymes less laboured, but I could imagine how Sufjan might enjoy the connotations of ‘fountain pen’. Fountain pens are sophisticated devices; they are refined vehicles of creation out of which culture pours. The quality of Jesus as a refiner of the soul is central to Christian dogma (albeit expressed differently), and may be central to this song too. We have all heard the ‘is this Sufjan song Christian or gay?’ joke in the past (the answer is always both), but for pre-Michigan lyrics, we can just as easily ask ‘is this line complex or just there because it rhymes nice?’

A piece on ‘Woman at the Well’ wouldn’t be complete without at least mentioning the melody. It’s a beautiful one, and it’s notable insofar as it feels like the Sufjan we know and love, down to its smallest rhythms and intervals. Even the best stuff on A Sun Came, like ‘Happy Birthday’, feels a bit like the Sufjan Stevens of an uncanny valley that lies somewhere between Illinois and Either/Or. Not so here. The contour of the main ‘she was a fountain pen’ motif is absolutely classic Sufjan, the ‘pen’ (the 2nd of the scale) lending it a perfect wistfulness that suggests the relative minor. There is still a loose adherence to pentatonic major here, but like so many of the best Sufjan songs, the melodic quality of ‘Woman at the Well’ is that sort of forward-looking happiness mixed with occasional glances over one’s shoulder at the life you’ll never return to. That right there is precisely the reason I started a project like this. Nobody else is capable of such balance. Nobody.

And it’s the reason why we dredge through this early, dusty stuff at all. For many artists it would not be worth it. But for Sufjan, all the same magic and majesty that you’ll find in his mainline releases can be found (on occasion) here. Sometimes it might even be exactly the same magic. Listen to the section of ‘Woman at the Well’ that immediately follows the first chorus (starting with ‘he has her hand...’). If the melody there sounds familiar, that’s because it is. A few years later, Sufjan would repurpose that melody for one of his first true masterpieces, a song about new VCRs and long car trips and taking one last glimpse at your mother knowing that next time you see her she might be an entirely different person. Here it is, the best melody in all of ‘Romulus’, just sitting there on a no-name compilation throwaway that nobody with a safe grip on their mental health has ever heard, years before Michigan was even dreamt of.

That, to a Sufjan tragic like me, is really fucking cool.

[greensparty]

Concert Review: Ringo Starr and His All-Starr Band

Wed. 9/18/24 @ Chevalier Theatre (Medford, MA)

Sir Ringo (center) and his All-Starr Band

What more can you say about Sir Ringo Starr? At 84, he is still an active musician and performer in his own right and not just the drummer for The Beatles who occasionally sang on select songs. I have been fortunate enough to cover not only The Beatles (most recently with the reissue of the Red and Blue albums late last year), but also Sir Ringo's solo output including 2019's What's My Name, 2022's EP3, 2023's Rewind Forward, and this year's Crooked Boy. I was lucky enough to see him live in 2010 on his 70th birthday where his old bandmate Paul McCartney came out for the encore and performed "Birthday" with him. For my second time seeing him in 2022 he was at the Boch Center and it blew me away to see someone in his 80s singing and drumming like he was in his 20s. At the very last minute, I got to cover Ringo Starr and His All-Starr Band's only MA show on a Fall tour in the same week I got to see Jane's Addiction and Pearl Jam. What a week!

All-Starr Band with their starry background

Over time it has become cool to poke fun at Sir Ringo, but his solo career is criminally underrated. As a member of The Beatles, he gets loads of respect, but as a solo artist he doesn’t get the recognition he deserves. He has to live up to the Fab Four and each of their solo careers, but he has actually made some great solo albums. In 1989, Starr toured with a supergroup Ringo Starr and His All-Starr Band. Each of the band members takes turns doing some of their hits in addition to backing Starr as he does his solo and Beatle hits. The line-up of the All-Starr Band has changed over the years, but the group is still going strong. This lineup features Toto's Steve Lukather (an All-Starr since 2012), Men at Work's Colin Hay (an All-Starr in 2003, 2008 and since 2018), Average White Band and Paul McCartney's band (in the late 80s/early 90s) Hamish Stuart (an All-Starr 2006-2008 and since 2018), David Lee Roth alum Gregg Bissonette (an All-Starr since 2008), Kansas and Toto alum Warren Ham (an All-Starr since 2014) and Aerosmith touring member Buck Johnson (newest All-Starr). The only difference in this lineup since I saw them in 2022 is that Edgar Winter wasn't there, Buck Johnson was filling in. Ringo did his solo hits "It Don't Come Easy", "I'm the Greatest", "Back Off Boogaloo", and "Photograph" as well as Beatle hits "Yellow Submarine", "Octopus's Garden", "I Wanna Be Your Man" and "With a Little Help From My Friends". He also did cover songs he's closely affiliated with like Carl Perkins' "Matchbox" (which The Beatles did in 1964), and The Shirelles' "Boys" (which The Beatles covered in 1963). Each member got their chance to shine too with Lukather singing Toto hits, Stuart doing Average White Band hits, and Hay doing Men at Work hits. Of all the non-Ringo / Beatle songs, I found the Men at Work hits to be the strongest.

Sir Ringo singing

Sir Ringo drumming

I don't know how much longer Sir Ringo is going to be touring and performing for, so any chance to see him is exciting. He sings lead and sometimes plays drums and he's a born entertainer! There is an element of a Vegas show vibe to this, but what's wrong with that? I do wish they'd incorporate some of Ringo's output since the 70s into set, but he's giving the audience what they want. This was my third time seeing the All-Starr Band and it was a blast. The first time is among my most legendary concert moments ever to get to see two Beatles onstage together. The second show I got to see in the same week as a Sir Paul concert. Bottom line: it's hard to compare to both of those concert experiences, but this was quite a show!

For info on Ringo Starr and His All-Starr Band

[supercantaloupe]

happy sleepover saturday! any thoughts about Beetlejuice the musical (positive/negative/etc)? I've really liked what I've seen/heard but I'd be interested to know what you think. additionally, as a guy who rarely listens to any kind of classical music because he is bad at remembering the titles 😫 what are some bangers i should put on tonight while i assemble a gerbil cage? (preferably the smaller... songs? numbers? please no longer than 10 minutes per. concerto???? idk what they're called im so sorry. last thing these are my three beautiful boys im adopting tomorrow!

OHH THREE BEAUTIFUL BABY BOYS. i like that that two of them appear to have airbender arrows on their heads

i! don't have very strong opinions on beetlejuice the musical, to be honest. i haven't seen it and it's been a few years since listening to the soundtrack. i remember it being decent, a few clever lines and composition moments here and there, there was clearly some creativity and heart put into it. it didn't seem to have like the kind of lazy cashgrab project vibes that other movie-to-stage musical adaptations sometimes, like sure the original movie here was a cult classic already but the team turning it into a musical seemed really interested in making into its own thing that adds to the creative idea. it's not really my cup of tea these days but it seems like a fun time, and you can absolutely do worse

HMM...well i am very much at heart a symphony girlie and symphonies tend to be quite a bit longer than ten minutes, But i shall try to come up with some shorter selections...

the overture to die meistersinger is genuinely a work of genius. i regret having to recommend a wagner piece because philosophically (and also at times musically) i disagree with the man intensely, and he was a massive piece of shit. but damn could he write an overture. he should have been a symphonist. and left it at that.

in that vein actually opera overtures are gonna offer a lot of great options for exciting classical music pieces that don't go on for too long. rossini has a ton of classics to choose from, many of which are very famous and also might be recognizable, like the barber of seville, la gazza ladra (the thieving magpie), l'italiana in algeri (the italian girl in algeria), la scala di seta (the silken ladder) and william tell.

some of my other personal favorite overtures are mozart's le nozze di figaro (the marriage of figaro) and the magic flute, weber's der freischütz, donizetti's la fille du régiment (the daughter of the regiment), and bernstein's candide.

also! the dance of the hours is a classic, it comes from the ballet la gioconda and also was featured in the original fantasia so it might be familiar!

finally i'll recommend some concert band music which i think is often overlooked in the classical music world. and no one does concert band better than brits and americans. holst first suite in Eb and second suite in F are both great, same for vaughan williams' english folk song suite. and william walton's crown imperial coronation march.

OH and arturo márquez's danzón no 2. okay love you bye

[ask meme]

[the73rdpostscript]

Excuse Me (Excuse Me)

Joe’s mood has been up and down over the past few hours. His energy took a big hit after the last song, but at some point in the last ten minutes Booker handed him a vodka Redbull. While Joe had called his dear friend some choice words at the drink selection, the caffeine is now buzzing in his blood, and he knows Booker is already forgiven.

Their victory in the match this afternoon was sweet. Fucking Stephen and his Northside team of assholes took the loss without an ounce of dignity. The rush had been heady, and now that the club music is vibrating in his chest, Joe feels free to do anything.

Somewhere beyond where he dances with Nile, the broad shouldered white guy he'd grinded on an hour ago is still dancing between a few other strangers. Joe watches him toss his head to the beat of an old 2000s song that they're both too old not to know. It might have been playing in the college parties where Joe had his first drunken hook-up. The memory moves like molten gold in his mind and he takes another swig of the drink in his hand, dropping his hips low as the beat ushers in a new singer for the chorus.

In front of Joe, Nile has turned her head away – paying more attention to someone else he can’t quite see yet. Soon, she spins away from him fully and loops her arms around a gorgeous tall brunette that must be twice her age.

Left alone on the dance floor, Joe keeps swaying to the familiar tune that he now recognizes as Pitbull of all things.

The lights of the club have changed from flashing yellow to pulsing blues and purples. In Joe’s peripheral vision he can see Shoulders has stepped back from his dance partner, giving them space to flop down and begin some fancy vogueing. The room erupts with a cheer from those who can see the show.

"For all we know we might not get tomorrow," Ne-Yo sings.

Smiling, Joe lets his head fall back and sings along as loud as he can while everyone is distracted by the impromptu performance happening among them.

Later, he will be deeply embarrassed about his next choices, but in the moment, he feels lit up from within. His mood is high with the heady combination of chemicals and nostalgia; the lights are mesmerizing; and the bodies around him are all as good as friends.

Shoulders is only a foot away from him, which means when Joe sings louder he knows he’ll be heard. Sliding up behind the other man, Joe wraps his hands around Shoulders’ hips and leans in close so he can croon along with the singer, "Grab somebody sexy, tell 'em hey!"

The man startles for a moment, leaning his head back to see Joe's face over his shoulder. The new angle highlights a strong nose and a quirk of the lips. Joe pulls their bodies closer, moving his hips to the beat and trying to keep from laughing. It only takes a moment for Shoulders to make a face that indicates he recognizes Joe, and as soon as he does, he spins around so they can properly grind in time with the beat.

Joe doesn’t remember the verses, so instead he focuses on the feeling of their bodies pressed together, and the happy expression on Shoulders' face as they move. Shoulders’ eyes are pale and intense under the lights, but they glow with satisfaction as he leans in to give Joe the best kiss of his life (or at least the best kiss so far).

Years later, Nicky will happily tell anyone who asks that they met when Joe called him Sexy in front of a crowd of people. Sometimes he will tell people that Joe hit on him using a Pitbull song. Every iteration of the story leaves Joe feeling mortified, but he still smiles like an idiot when he wraps around Nicky in bed at night and murmurs, “Hey.”

[yoshihashismattebum]

9 People I'd Like to Get to Know Better

Thanks @sycamoretrees for the tag!

Last song: I'm going to cheat and go for a whole album. I've been really enjoying Where's My Utopia? by Yard Act recently: deceptively clever stream-of-consciousness lyrics that walk the line between wry irony and passionate sincerity, all set to post-punk beats that you can dance to. (Shout-out to HELLMODE by Jeff Rosenstock and Sorry for the Late Reply by Sløtface too – both brilliant albums as well)

And while I'm breaking the rules, I might as well mention my wrestling playlist that I've been working on! It's a really eclectic mix of songs that remind me of various different things in wrestling – feuds, characters, general vibes etc. It's not finished yet (I'd like to organise it thematically and write some annotations to explain my thinking behind the choices), but maybe you'll find something on there you like!

Favourite colour: it's a tie between blue and purple (especially lilac). Also currently enjoying the yellow-green of the new leaves that are appearing at this time of year!

Currently watching: wrestling, surprise surprise. I'm just about keeping up with AEW and completely failing to keep up with NJPW. Other than that, I've not really been in a big TV/film mood recently. Although I did see Dune Part 2 the other week, which I thought was fantastic. My partner and I have also become slightly addicted to watching Gab Smolders play Nancy Drew games on YouTube.

Spicy/savoury/sweet/(sour)/(salty)/[umami]: since @sycamoretrees set a precedent of adding options, I'm going to go with another write-in candidate: my beloved umami. I am a Marmite fiend and will eat just about anything if it has soy sauce/miso/strong cheese etc in it. I enjoy pretty much all of the above tastes though, especially when combined in interesting ways. If I had to choose between the original options, I probably lean towards savoury; I have extremely strong opinions on crisps.

Relationship status: I've been with my partner for almost 11 years now :) (While I'm here, go check out her fantastic art and tabletop RPG writing at @mortphilippa! Obviously I'm biased, but she's super talented!)

Obsessions:

Too many to mention them all, but here's a selection:

Wrestling (of course): as well as my usual AEW & NJPW, I've watched some CMLL recently, which has been fun. I also recently reached new levels of nerd by emulating King of Colosseum 2, a Japanese wrestling game from 2004, on PC. It's good! Holds up well!

Tabletop role-playing games – an ever-present obsession for me. I've just wrapped up a 4+ year D&D campaign that I was GMing, which is an odd feeling, but I'm so proud of the story we told together. I'm also currently GMing/writing stuff for Cy_Borg, Liminal Horror and Brindlewood Bay, among others! There are tons more I want to run though – too many games, not enough time! (I am always up for conversations about TTRPGs by the way – I could talk forever about them! Hit me up if you wanna chat!)

Puzzle games: more of a recent obsession. I continue to do the Wordle every day, but I've recently been enjoying Connections (sorting words into categories), Heardle Decades (identifying songs from the intros), and Squeezy (a weird game about fitting letters into other words). I'm also going through a bit of a point-and-click adventure phase. Really enjoying Unavowed by Dave Gilbert currently. I'm not usually an urban fantasy fan, so it's a testament to how good the writing is that I'm loving it as much as I am.

Spring flowers: spring has well and truly sprung here in the UK, and I am loving all of the flowers that are popping up everywhere! There's nothing that brings me joy quite like going for a walk and doing some plant-spotting (I'm trying to get better at identifying plants this year! I'm mostly reliant on Google Lens and a bit of inherited knowledge from my Grandma currently)

Oops, that was A Lot! Enough about me. Time to tag some other people! (Only if you feel like it though! Absolutely zero pressure)

IRL friends (I know you all very well already, but I always love hearing what you're up to 💙): @thewaythroughthewoods, @thepenultimaterolo and @mortphilippa (and @unpairedbracket if you fancy it!)

Some Tumblr people wot seem cool (sorry if we've not interacted much – I've not been on Tumblr a lot recently and I'm bad at starting conversations!): @norfkid, @sybilius, @dansedan, @unlikelywrestlingfan, @punkrockpariah

[lageografiademicamino]

UMK 2024 Song Review - Windows95man

The hype is very real around Uuden Musiikin Kilpailu (UMK), the Finnish national selection for Eurovision and the race to Malmö continues with another entry!

Windows95man - No Rules!

Windows95man is a shy family man from the Finnish capital area who's made a name for himself as multitalented entertainer. The man is a visual artist and a photographer plus owns his own gallery in Helsinki but is the best known aka Windows95man. It all started from Youtube but quickly grew to become famous as a DJ who wears cut off shorts (magic shorts according to him) and Windows95 t-shirt.

He represents the same liberated crazy spirit as Käärijä last year. He does a lot of things that are not seen suitable for a Finnish man of his age in style and in music and feels no shame of doing so! Good for him!

No Rules is his first song in which he collaborates with Henri Piispanen who delivers the vocals.

No rules is a throwback from the 90's which according to Windows95man influenced his musical style the most (as born in the mid 80's). Musically this is part of the eurodance genre and reminds many of E-Type.

Musically it holds all the necessary elements that a proper 90's banger needs and Piispanen impresses with his high notes (can he deliver live?). However, what is a strong point for No Rules can be also its death.

This is a nice, funny, catchy add to UMK24 selection but doesn't really meet the high quality of the previous songs, does it. This can be seen as a joke entry especially with the music video which reminds me a sketch on TV. Musically this can be quite irritating for many. It doesn't offer anything new and some listeners might tune off before the song has reached its 3-minute run.

Last year Portion Boys delivered a similar entry but still bringing their own musical value to the table. I just don't see No Rules doing the same despite of possibly becoming a guilty pleasure for some UMK fans. In Eurovision this is something what we could have sent a decade ago but now UMK as Eurovision has topped its game since. Wiwibloggs were on point with their a Nokia reference - it's nice to down a memory lane for a moment but would someone still buy one? No.

This is still a decent first single and I hope nothing but the best and love in the future!

What do you think of the fifth UMK24 track and would you vote for Windows95man to go all the way to Malmö? UMK final takes place on February 10th!

[shiningwonderland]

Syo Kurusu (Repeat)

Translator: Raz (Twitter: agnadance)

Editor: Snail (Twitter: herbert_snail)

March — Turbulent Syncopation

Syo Kurusu: Well, I guess this is it.

Haruka Nanami: Syo-kun, you've improved so much!

Syo Kurusu: Of course! Human beings are meant to advance every single day!

Select the Phrase!

身長も？Their height, too? (+5 Love +0 Music)

Syo Kurusu: Shut up about height!

Haruka Nanami: You're not getting taller?

Syo-kun flinches, his words getting stuck in his throat.

Haruka Nanami: Syo-kun, you've become so much stronger over the past few months that I thought you've grown taller…

Syo Kurusu: Is that what you think? Huh, yeah! Maybe you're onto something!

Haruka Nanami: Yes…

Syo Kurusu: Th-then, I'll go measure myself!

Haruka Nanami: Ah… He left…

If he's going to measure his height, then maybe he went to the nurse's office? There should be a machine that measures height there.

Syo Kurusu: … I'm back.

Haruka Nanami: How was it…?

Syo Kurusu: One millimeter…

Haruka Nanami: You grew taller?

Syo Kurusu: … No, I shrunk… What the hell was that?! Is it broken?!

Haruka Nanami: There, there…

Syo comes in fuming, but he immediately puts himself together and begins practice again.

成績も？Their grades, too? (+10 Love +5 Music)

Syo Kurusu: Ugh… Well, I'm not getting failing grades anymore… I think that's thanks to you, actually. Your notes are well organized, after all.

Syo Kurusu: Also, you're also really good at teaching. If you aren't able to become a professional composer, how about becoming a teacher?

Haruka Nanami: A teacher… at school? That sounds nice…

Syo Kurusu: Hey, hey, don't take that comment too seriously. It's a joke. You're gonna be my composer for life!

Haruka Nanami: Hehehe. Understood! I'll do my best! Let's win the graduation audition!

体重も？Their weight, too? (+0 Love +0 Music)

Syo Kurusu: Yeah, yeah, hot pot really hits the spot this time of year–HEY!

Syo Kurusu: Don't make fun of me! I'm an idol! I can watch my weight, y'know!

Haruka Nanami: I would expect nothing less of you!

Syo Kurusu: Lately, I haven't been having any symptoms either! Thanks to that, I think the surgery will go well. Our final problem is the lyrics…

Haruka Nanami: Huh? Didn't you finish writing them a while back?

Syo Kurusu: … Well, those lyrics do match the rhythm of the song so I can sing them if I have to, but I feel like they're not quite right yet.

Syo Kurusu: What I want to say is that they don't feel complete. I want to put my soul into our song.

Syo Kurusu: The power words have is huge. I feel like the lyrics don't hold a candle to your composition. There's something missing.

Select the Phrase!

テーマを決めてみたら？How about deciding on some themes? (+5 Love +10 Music)

Haruka Nanami: Hyuga-sensei advised us to decide on some themes.

Syo Kurusu: Themes, huh? Hmm, how about "life", "living", "strength", "dreams", "courage", "persistence"... Oh, and something like  "Follow me!" 

Haruka Nanami: Hahaha, I think that's good, too. I think the best part about you is how strong you are and how you never give up.

言葉を書き連ねてみたら？How about make a list of words? (+5 Love +5 Music)

Haruka Nanami: I heard if you get lost, try to write as many words as possible that pop up into your head into a notebook. It may be good to even try allegories.

Haruka Nanami:You might get something interesting if you try different combinations.

Haruka Nanami:Also, Hyuga-sensei said that it's okay to write words and not full sentences. He said to give musical phrases the utmost consideration.

Haruka Nanami:The words will be put into song, so it's fine if the nuance shows even with one word. I think he also said that the chorus should be really catchy…

Syo Kurusu: I see. That's really helpful. Thanks, Haruka!

情景と心情を・・・Scenes and emotions… (+5 Love +5 Music)

Haruka Nanami: Hyuga-sensei said not only to include emotions, but scenes too.

Haruka Nanami: He said describing something that instantly puts a scene in your head is easy to understand.

Haruka Nanami: If you put emotions into that, it's easy to immerse yourself into the song.

Haruka Nanami: If I remember correctly, something like beginning with a character's actions, or describing the place they're in, then describing the feelings of that character…

Haruka Nanami: That's just one of the methods that I was taught.

Syo Kurusu: Yeah! Just you wait. I'll write lyrics so good that it'll rock your heart.

Haruka Nanami: I'm looking forward to it.

It's the end of school.

Syo-kun and I walk towards the dorms together.

Haruka Nanami: Isn't that…

We see Kaoru-kun peek at us from outside the school gates.

Syo Kurusu: And then Ren said… huh? What's the matter?

Haruka Nanami: … It's nothing. I forgot something back at school, so can we split up here?

Syo Kurusu: That's fine, but why not just go together?

Haruka Nanami: Thanks, but it's okay. I'll see you tomorrow.

Once I confirm Syo-kun has walked out of sight, I run towards Kaoru-kun.

Haruka Nanami: Kaoru-kun!

Kaoru Kurusu: Ah, Nanami-san… Why…? You've got sharp eyes to notice me…

Haruka Nanami: Did you come to see how Syo-kun's doing?

If that's so, then he must've come see him occasionally this entire time in secret.

Kaoru Kurusu: It's because I'm worried about him… but Syo-chan hates how much I worry about him.

Kaoru-kun purses his lips.

Kaoru Kurusu: I want to be by his side to support him always, but he's the one trying to protect me… He's working too hard…

Kaoru Kurusu: You're Syo-chan's girlfriend, right? Are you supporting him properly? Aren't you the one being protected by him instead of the other way around?

He raises his head and looks me in the eye. Ahh, Kaoru-kun truly cares about Syo-kun.

Kaoru Kurusu: I'm sorry for saying this, but you don't seem to be that reliable. You're not being a burden to him, are you?

Haruka Nanami: I'm… doing my best to not hold him back. Nonetheless, Syo-kun sometimes does work himself too hard.

Haruka Nanami: I want to do even better to support him.

Kaoru Kurusu: Are you really supporting him?

He stares at me with a doubtful look in his eyes. I understand, I need to earn his trust.

Haruka Nanami: I'll do my best.

That's all I can say. Compared to Kaoru, who has been with Syo-kun since birth, I am just a stranger to him.

I need to work even harder so he can trust me.

Haruka Nanami: By the way, you two are twins, right? Is your health okay, Kaoru-kun? Your heart doesn't start hurting or anything?

Kaoru Kurusu: I'm fine. I'm completely healthy…

Kaoru Kurusu: I took all of Syo-chan's energy when we were in the womb together. That's why he's so weak…

Haruka Nanami: That's not true…

Kaoru Kurusu: I know that's a completely irrational way of thinking, but that thought has always been stuck in my mind.

He must've felt so guilty for being healthy when Syo-kun has been suffering so much.

That must be why he began thinking like that.

But no matter how hard Kaoru-kun is on himself, that won't make Syo-kun happy…

Kaoru Kurusu: When my friends and I would play in preschool and kindergarten, Syo-chan would be bedridden in the hospital.

Kaoru Kurusu: Syo-chan is energetic now, but he became ill very often when we were kids, and he was almost always in the hospital.

I wish he spoke up more, like say he wanted to go to preschool too, but he would say…

Kaoru-kun bites down on his lip in an attempt to hold back his tears.

Kaoru Kurusu: He would never complain even once. He would sacrifice himself by telling me that I should go out and have fun.

Kaoru Kurusu: He would laugh and say he was fine, putting up a cheerful act.

Haruka Nanami: Yes… Syo-kun always says that, doesn't he? Even when he's in pain…

Kaoru Kurusu: But the truth is, Syo-chan is actually vulnerable.

Kaoru Kurusu: I saw him cry to himself in his hospital bed when I wasn't with him.

Haruka Nanami: …

Kaoru Kurusu: "I want to live." "I want to get better." "I want to play outside with everyone else." He was crying, his voice shaking. 

Kaoru Kurusu: The moment he noticed I was standing there, he wiped his tears and acted like nothing happened. He laughed and said he's fine.

Syo-kun has been fighting all by himself this entire time, even when he was a child.

Kaoru Kurusu: I want to protect him, but all he does is protect me instead. I get so sad and frustrated…

Kaoru Kurusu: That's when I thought I'll become a doctor and cure Syo-chan's illness…

Haruka Nanami: Is that so…

Kaoru Kurusu: But I couldn't become one immediately… so every time I saw Syo-chan like that, it was so unbearable that I would cry.

Kaoru Kurusu: All I could do was say sorry to him. Syo-chan is in so much pain, but he would never complain to me.

Kaoru Kurusu: He didn't say anything when he quit playing violin… Instead, he began learning karate…

Haruka Nanami: That's because… Syo-kun wanted to become stronger in his own way…

Kaoru Kurusu: I understand, but… At that time, I thought that he became so desperate that he was just hurting himself.

Kaoru Kurusu: In fact, I still think he's doing that. He's trying to hurry through his life.

Kaoru Kurusu: He's panicking because he thinks he has no time left to live, but… if one were to care for him, he can live even longer.

Kaoru Kurusu: I want him to wait for me… until I become a doctor and become able to cure his sickness…

Kaoru Kurusu: I just want him to wait patiently.

Haruka Nanami: The reason why you're aiming to become a doctor is for Syo-kun, right?

Kaoru Kurusu: Yes… That was the reason at first, but now I want to cure not just Syo-chan but anyone who is suffering from illness.

Kaoru Kurusu: I want to make them happy…

Haruka Nanami: Syo-kun must feel the same way.

Kaoru Kurusu: Huh…?

Haruka Nanami: Syo-kun is aiming to become an idol because he wants everyone to be happy and spread his joy to others.

Kaoru Kurusu: His joy…? Is that why he wants to become an idol?

Haruka Nanami: Yes, Syo-kun and Kaoru-kun's methods are different, but you're both aiming for the same goal.

Kaoru Kurusu: Is that so…? Is that true?

Haruka Nanami: Just like Kaoru-kun wants Syo-kun to be happy and put a smile on his face…

Syo-kun wants Kaoru-kun to be happy, so he's doing his best making his song.

A song that would lift the spirits of anyone who listens to it… that's why I want you to support Syo-kun's goal to be an idol…

Kaoru Kurusu: I…

He whispers to himself then looks down to think.

Kaoru Kurusu: … I'll go back for today. Tell Syo-chan to not overwork himself…

He leaves while clenching his fist.

Haruka Nanami: Yes.

Syo-kun and Kaoru-kun… They care about each other this much, but why are they always at conflict?

Is it because they're too stubborn? I wish they would see eye to eye soon…

Syo Kurusu: So he went back home?

Haruka Nanami: Ah, Syo-kun! Since when…

Syo Kurusu: I came back a while ago because you were acting strange. That guy's a handful.

Haruka Nanami: He's just worried about you, Syo-kun…

Syo Kurusu: I get that, but he needs to think about himself more. He's only ever cared about me even when we were little.

Syo Kurusu: When we were kids, he would cry so much every time I fell ill.

Syo Kurusu: He would say that the reason why I'm not healthy is because he took all my energy when we were in the womb. 

Syo Kurusu: Even though that makes no sense, he always apologized to me and beat himself up for it.

Syo Kurusu: I kept telling him there's no relation at all and he's at no fault, but he would never listen.

Syo Kurusu: I just… don't feel comfortable seeing him cry. I decided I'll become better so I would never make him cry.

Syo Kurusu: I made a vow not to ever show that I'm in pain in front of him.

Haruka Nanami: Syo-kun…

But Syo-kun's consideration is the entire reason why Kaoru-kun is hurting inside…

It hurts me to see them care about each other this much and yet not truly understand each other.

Syo Kurusu: When we entered elementary school, I was able to go to school normally and Kaoru and I both began to study violin on our parents' suggestion.

Syo Kurusu: At that time, we were aiming to become pro violinists together.

Syo-kun grins with a nostalgic look on his face.

Syo Kurusu: Even so, I still fell ill sometimes and had to take a day off from school. Every time I did, Kaoru would also take a break and stay by my side.

Syo Kurusu: Although it's not possible to be together all the time, he would do his best to never leave me because he thought that I felt inferior to him.

Syo Kurusu: That's when I met Natsuki and quit violin.

Syo Kurusu: Kaoru incessantly asked me why I quit, but I never gave him an answer. He felt guilty because he was convinced that it was his fault that I quit.

Syo Kurusu: After that, I began practicing karate. I lied to Kaoru that I quit violin because karate looked more interesting.

Syo Kurusu: Kaoru was completely against me doing karate, saying that I should stop because it's dangerous for me…

Syo Kurusu: But I never quit. I trained and trained, and when I got better at karate, my body became more and more resilient. 

Syo Kurusu: The doctor was surprised too, saying it was a miracle…

Haruka Nanami: I… always thought that you were powerful even since you were born.

Haruka Nanami: But now I know that's not true. You became strong because you worked hard for it…

Syo Kurusu: Well, the ability to keep trying is a strength on its own. In that sense, you're strong too.

Syo Kurusu: But Kaoru… maybe because he was healthy from the start, or that I was like this, but…

Syo Kurusu: He's fragile… Or maybe sensitive is the better way to word it. Anyway, he would start crying over the smallest things.

Syo Kurusu: I don't want to make him cry… If I told him that I'm planning to undergo surgery, he'll cry for sure…

Select the Phrase!

内緒にしておく？Will you keep it secret? (+0 Love +0 Music)

Syo Kurusu: There's no way I'll do that. I'll tell him soon enough… Will you come with me when that time comes?

Haruka Nanami: … Yes.

言わないの？You won't tell him? (+20 Love +0 Music)

Syo Kurusu: No… I'll tell him with my own words. However…

Syo-kun clasps my hand.

Syo Kurusu: I want you to be by my side when that time comes.

Haruka Nanami: Okay.

言わなきゃダメだよ。You have to tell him. (+10 Love +0 Music)

Syo Kurusu: … I know. Will you encourage me to do it?

Haruka Nanami: …?

Syo Kurusu: If you're by my side, I feel like I can tell him properly.

Haruka Nanami: … I'll stay with you. I'll stay with you as long as you're fine with that.

Syo Kurusu: Thanks.

Next day, Syo-kun calls Kaoru-kun to his room and tells him everything.

The fact that he'll never give up pursuing being an idol, and that he'll undergo surgery to do so.

Kaoru Kurusu: I understand that you're ready for this, but what about me and your girlfriend?

Syo-chan, you're always like this. Even that time when you quit playing violin suddenly… All I can do is worry about you.

Why do you always decide this by yourself? I want you to talk it out with me… Am I really that unreliable?

Syo Kurusu: That's not it…

Kaoru Kurusu: Then don't go. Don't go to a far off place by yourself.

Syo Kurusu: Sorry, but I've already decided.

Kaoru Kurusu: You're going no matter what?

Syo Kurusu: Yeah. When the graduation audition is over, I'm going to the States.

Kaoru Kurusu: What about her? She's your girlfriend. Are you just going to leave her behind?

Syo Kurusu: Yeah, that's how it'll be.

Kaoru Kurusu: That's how it'll be…? That's cruel! Are you serious? You're satisfied with that?

Select the Phrase!

寂しいけど・・・I'll feel lonely, but…. (+15 Love +0 Music)

Haruka Nanami: But… Syo-kun will return no matter what, so…

Syo Kurusu: Haruka… Yeah, I'll come back for sure.

Syo-kun puts his arm around my shoulders and pulls me in.

翔くんが決めたことだから。Syo-kun has decided. (+15 Love +10 Music)

Haruka Nanami: I'll do as he says.

Syo Kurusu: Thanks. I knew that you would say that.

Syo-kun and I look at each other and hold each other's hands.

信じてるから。I believe in him. (+25 Love +0 Music)

Haruka Nanami: Syo-kun will come back better than ever.

Kaoru Kurusu: But… there's only a 50% chance of success. If this surgery fails… Anyway, I think it's best for him to stay put.

Syo Kurusu: I can increase my chances with a fighting spirit! Isn't that right?

Haruka Nanami: Yes!

He's passionate and nothing will change if he runs away. I think that's what he's trying to say. 

Kaoru Kurusu: I can't believe that. No, if Syo-chan's gone, what should I do with myself?

Haruka Nanami: Believe in him. Your emotions will become strength, and even though they're not visible, your wishes will come true if you gather enough of them. 

Syo Kurusu: Yes! That's a great way to put it! It's not impossible!

Syo Kurusu: There's a whole 50% chance! I believe in that 50%! I'll survive for everyone's sake. …No, I want to live for myself…

Kaoru Kurusu: You really believe in each other. I thought I was the one who understood you the most…

Kaoru Kurusu: I always thought that I was the most important person in your life…

Syo Kurusu: …You're my little brother. You're one of my precious family members. 

Syo Kurusu: We're twins. We've been together ever since we were born and were raised under the same roof, but we have to walk different paths from now on.

Syo Kurusu: She's my partner… and my girlfriend…

Syo Kurusu: We'll be walking the same path together from now on… She's special.

Syo Kurusu: You're not alone. I believe that you can get your own partner…

Haruka Nanami: … Syo-kun…

Kaoru Kurusu: I… might take your girlfriend while you're gone. Are you okay with that?

Haruka Nanami: Huh? U-Uh…

Syo Kurusu: Try if you can.

Kaoru Kurusu: … You don't get it at all!

He storms out of the room.

Select The Phrase!

行っちゃったね・・・He left… (+0 Love +0 Music)

Syo-kun silently gazes at the door.

わかってもらえるといいね。I hope he'll understand. (+20 Love +0 Music)

Syo Kurusu: Yeah…

Syo-kun… He wants Kaoru-kun to understand him more than anyone else.

あの・・・追いかけた方が・・・Um… will you follow him? (+10 Love +0 Music)

Syo Kurusu: No, it's pointless to do that… I wanted him to understand me though.

I wonder if Kaoru-kun will come to the graduation audition?

I want him to hear Syo-kun's song… I want him to know his resolve.

I have to practice as hard as I can until the very end…

MINI GAME

Ryuya Hyuga: Whether you cry or laugh, you only get one audition for graduation. There are no redos. 

The only way to perform the best song on stage is to do steady, constant practice in the shadows. You repeat listening to the same song, perform it, and raise the quality.

Now, try performing your song as if you're on stage. Try to find any faults, crush them, and prepare for the real deal. Got it?!

This is the final lesson. Get your head in the game!

S RANK

Syo Kurusu: You came this far. Hm? What's wrong, don't cry! It's too soon to get emotional. If you're gonna cry, cry when you listen to my singing.

Haruka Nanami: Emotions started welling up inside of me… I'll do my best to hold in the tears…

When I squeeze my eyes shut, Syo-kun pecks me on the forehead.

Haruka Nanami: Syo…kun.

He sees me stop crying from surprise and then makes a satisfied grin.

It's unfair that he's this cool. He's going to leave the country soon, but now I don't want him to leave…

But now that my tears have stopped, I must not cry again.

Syo-kun hasn't talked with Kaoru-kun after that. Now he's preparing to go on stage for the graduation audition.

Once this ends, he'll leave the country to undergo surgery.

I don't want to think of a situation where the surgery fails, but…

This may be the last time I see Syo-kun sing.

I know I shouldn't be thinking that, but I couldn't shake my worry.

Syo Kurusu: It's time for my performance.

Haruka Nanami: Yeah…

Syo Kurusu: Why do you look so gloomy, idiot? You aren't thinking of something ominous, are you?

He pokes me on the forehead.

Haruka Nanami: I'm sorry.

Syo Kurusu: Sheesh…

Syo-kun gently embraces me.

Syo Kurusu: … I was told this a long time ago, but… I was like a light bulb that's about to go out.

Haruka Nanami: Huh…?

Syo Kurusu: That I was shining brightly right before burning out… and I thought that was fine.

I thought that I needed to shine as brightly as possible because I didn't know when I was going to go out, but I wasn't satisfied with just that…

After I met you, I began wanting more.

I want to keep shining by your side… That's why I won't give up on myself or my destiny…

This isn't the end. This is the beginning of my heroic saga!

Haruka Nanami: Syo-kun…

Syo-kun grabs both of my shoulders and looks into my eyes.

Syo Kurusu: Take a good look at how heroic I am!

He kisses me on the forehead.

With a grin, he runs to the stage.

Chapter End

[trickerys-domain]

Y'all ready for my hilariously candid unpopular UMK ranking!

Obligatory preferace that I'm just an opinionated bitch. This selection is overall really strong and I'm very much excited for the live show. I think a lot of these songs will make or break during the live. I also think there is an odd disparity in the obvious budget and set quiality for the 7 music videos. Almost like they had a different line-up and some songs were last minute replacements.

I also did not factor in whether a song would do well in eurovision at all because frankly rn I do not care.

This ranking will also probably change so like who cares, I'm ready to enjoy a great liveshow full of people who give a shit about their art.

Ok, here we go!

7. Vox Populi - Mikael Gabriel

The general sound of this one is fun and easy. Good filler or backgroud music. Like if it came on in shuffle I probably wouldn't skip it. However, the lyrics are like really bad. Especially in context of the seeming general opinion of this man I am seeing. Also, this man is strategically pandering and a. Its not working, b. No on seems to have noticed. The use of Matti and that obviously käärijä influenced face in the music video smacked me on first watch. He is capitalizing and I'm very curious to see what he does with the live. Not excited, just curious.

6. Dancing with Demons - Cyan Kicks

I liked Hurricane better. There its been said. I do enjoy listening to this but I forget about it a lot. It also took me until basically now to kinda remember what it sounds like. Meanwhile I can still think of the Hurricane chorus 2 years later having not listened to it since UMK 2022. I do think Cyan Kicks has a really good fun sound, I just don't vibe with this song all that much.

Also, this bears no weight on my opinion of either song. But I need to call out the hypocrisy I've been seeing online. I've seen so many people comment that they don't like the amount of autotune Sexmane uses in Mania and then go on to say how much Dancing with Demons showcases Susanna's voice. Like...... there is so much autotune on Dancing with Demons. It will not sound like that live. And that's fine, its clearly an artistic choice that fits with their musical style, like Sexmane. But pls just sit with that for a bit before complaining about the, frankly much less, autotune in a rap song. Tangent rant over.

5. Kuori Moi - Sini Sabotage

This is where my ranking will probably swap a lot. This song is really catchy and I ingeneral like this type of music. I call it chill sex. This is also a very fun unserious song and video played straight, and I appreciate that. I am worried about something with vocals this chill live. They're good vocals, but very intentionally monotone and if the staging isn't engaging it might fall flat. This song is mostly at 5th place because I dont have anything bad to say about it, but it doesn't stand out quite as much as some of the others. I adored her interview tho.

4. Paskana - Sara Siipola

This is a great power ballad while still being upbeat. It doesn't drag. The vocals are great. The music video is great even while being very simple. The lyrics and message are really really good too. This song gets stuck in my head a lot and I think it is, on a technical level, the stongest song this year. I really hope the staging supports the song but with how raw and peeled back the vibe of the song is it will be difficult to make staging that is engaging without being distracting.

3. No Rules! - Windows95Man

Pure unashamed 90s nostalgia schlock. This is very much the type of trashy eurodance I enjoy, so home run for me. I think the staging will be very fun, but maybe too much. Or it will be organized chaos like Portion Boys last year. Speaking of, this is definitely this years silly fan fave that will be well received but probably not win, a la Portion Boys and Teflon Brothers. For being trashy eurodance, I do think it is construced very well. It flows and it actually written well, its bad on purpose and it is successful. Is it the most original or masterful, no. It is very enjoyable and fun and low pressure, yes.

2. MANIA - Sexmane

This one gets stuck in my head the most. Good beat, good flow. I really like the sound of the chorus, including the auto tune. The lyrics hold more than I think comes across initially and you can tell Sexmane really connects with this song the way his voice delivers even in the studio version. This is the song that I'm most excited to see live because I wanna know what kind of staging he pulls out. Side note: I think it's really funny that the brother called Sexmane is less sexual musically than the one just called Isaac.

1. Glow - Jesse Markin

This is just a really phenomenally written and positive song. It is really nice to have some good classic rap at a competition like UMK. The flow is impeccable with his rapping too. There's a lot of American artists who can't write that well in english. The message of this song is really uplifting without feeling hollow because it recognizes you gotta actually work at being in a good place. Jessie is someone who knows exactly who he is as an artist and person and that translates into the song. Also Alpaca!

I think the the songs that have the biggest chance of winning are Paskana, Dancing with Demons, and No Rules!

But truly I have no clue how this will go. This is a very evenly matched line-up both in quality and fan reception. The live perfomances will 100% decide the outcome.

[7grandmel]

Todays rip: 27/01/2024

Aphex

Season 1

Featured on: GilvaSunner's Highest Quality Video Game Rips: Volume FOUR HOURS!

Ripped by toonlink

When looking back at my favorite moments, and by extension my favorite rips, in each era of the channel's life, it's of course always Season 1 that I find most intriguing. If you take a look at the credits behind rips such as Violet Snow Memories, Ganja Man 9: Hash Blunt Hash (Shorty's Stage), and even super fondly remembered ones like Pikmin Park, Turn On Your SEGA Genesis and Just Enjoy Yourself - you'll notice that there's a good number of rippers who simply did all they wanted to do within the channel's first two or so years of life. This is of course also due to behind-the-scenes drama, rippers' individual private lives, and other such matters I don't wish to dwell on - but what I'm building to with all this, is that of all those rippers who moved on to better things only a year or two after they began contributing, few have stuck with me quite as much as toonlink.

And like, this is far from my first post on the blog raving about the guy's ripping prowess, but I think there's a really strong pattern to be drawn amidst almost all of his work. Be it with immensely inspired melodyswaps like DRIFTVEIL CITY JUST GOT A TON MORE GROOVIER, perfect execution of obvious mashups like Dr. Soulja, directing one of the greatest collabs on the entire channel in File Select Fusion Collab, or just flat-out being cited by channel founder Chaze the Chat as the main inspiration behind starting SiIvaGunner to behind with...there's something about toonlink's work that simply stands as the most perfect embodiment of what SiIvaGunner was aiming to be - the spirit of the channel, that which back then often still felt so nebulous and undefined, flowed through his rips so completely effortlessly. And that isn't even to mention the legacy rips such as Wii Shop Bling and how its directly inspired rips such as Mii Favorite Things.

Back in 2016, it was The Reboot that truly sold me on the SiIvaGunner channel, that made me a fan for life. The entire team did an excellent job through rips like I Saw A Brainwasher Today conveying its atmosphere, mood, presenting and revolving its story - yet the one rip I'm always going to remember from the event, the one that encapsulates all of my feelings throughout it the most, is Aphex. It embodies so much of the SiIvaGunner spirit in true toonlink fashion, and is in my eyes perhaps some of his greatest work.

That may just be due to me being a sentimental person too attached to the lore and story of this silly shitpost channel, but it is a genuinely excellent rip even without the context its attached to - mixing elements of various tunes from Aphex Twin in with Undertale's Finale and Hopes and Dreams, without ever truly committing to one song in particular to be mashed up with. Simple mashups are of course a wonder in their own right, but I remember just being in awe at how much of an original work Aphex felt like even back then - no one part of it ever felt like it was to be taken as parody, despite me recognizing so many of its pieces in isolation. And that sort of chaotic nature, that aura of breaking free from the expectations set, was so much of what I loved about The Reboot in its entirety.

My affection and love for Aphex, everything it is, everything it represented and still represents, means that I'm no doubt going to one day cover the absolutely beautiful rearrangement it recieved as part of RIP², in Twin Souls CHANGE the World. All I'll say on it now, is that its placement at the very end of the event, the final chapter to such an incredible trip down SiIva's entire 7-Season long history, felt perfect to me. It doesn't have the most memes, the most characters, the most lore, the most visuals, or the most collaborators, but yet Aphex stands as one of the most SiIvaGunner-ass rips ever released, by a guy who could seemingly do nothing but release such rips during his active period. Godspeed, toonlink.

[fantastickkay]

Album Review of the Week: Cher - Backstage (1968)

1968's Backstage is Cher's fifth album and first commercial failure. The album and its two singles failed to chart at all. While it is not specifically noted, this may also be the beginning of the end for husband Sonny Bono being her main producer.

This is an album of covers, and while most have great vocal delivery, some leave me scratching my head as to why the song was chosen at all in the first place!

We start on a high note with Go Now. This is a great track, perfect for any strong vocalist - like Cher. The instrumentation is a little too much, very whimsical and does not really match the mood of the song. Lots of organs, indicative of the times. Her vocals, as great as they are, could have been mixed better. It sounds like they were recorded on a rather cheap microphone. There are points where they suddenly become quite loud.

Carnival (Manha de Carnaval) is another gorgeous tune. I really enjoy the soft guitar - this time, the music matches the tune. This has a really nice lounge feel (although the vocals are mixed a little loud, again).

It All Adds Up Now brings up the tempo. I especially enjoy the vocals on this track, we get some nice flourishes here and there!

Reason To Believe has some great violin going on! Makes an otherwise boring ballad fun to listen to!

Here comes the sitar! Masters of War makes use of the instrument that The Beatles had popularized for the West. Is it executed well? No, not at all. One short riff is repeated throughout and the vocal melody/mixing actually makes it rather irritating to listen to. Lyrically, it is a pretty good anti-war song, complete with threats of violence! This is very of its time in a not-so-good way.

In a crazy pivot, we end side 1 with a cover of The Lovin' Spoonful's Do You Believe In Magic? It has a subdued tone that I enjoy, her vocals are mixed better in this one and sound great.

Organ vibes are back with I Wasn't Ready, although they are done much more tastefully this time! While Cher sounds good, this does sound more like a rough vocal demo than a finished product.

A House Is Not A Home is a pretty ballad and quite well done in comparison with the rest of the album. The strings are gentle and Cher's vocals are lovely.

Take Me For A Little While was one of the singles. I can understand why radio did not embrace the track. It's fine, but is not on par with what was popular at the time nor interesting and different enough to break the mold. I do really enjoy the chorus, however. The vocal layering sounds really nice!

The Impossible Dream (The Quest) is a very popular song that has been covered numerous times over the years. (Most notably by Niles the Butler in the Nanny, just kidding!) This version is nice, but there is not really anything special about it.

According to Google, The Click Song is a traditional song of the Xhosa people of South Africa. Why Cher did a song in an African language baffles me. Even worse, it was the lead single for this album!! Obviously, I'm sure, I don't know this language well enough to judge her delivery although some YouTube comments are quite scathing.

The album closes with Song Called Children, a whimsical ballad. Once the instruments really kick in, the song is quite cute. Has some nursery worthy instrumentals, although it kicks back and forth from slow to fast at a dizzying pace. At times it is a slow piano ballad, then the fast violin kicks in every so often.

While Cher's vocals are quite good, the mixing, overall production and song selection help me understand why this album did not do very well. Go Now, It All Adds Up Now and Do You Believe In Magic are the only real standouts.

[eurovision-revisited]

Eurovision 2004 - The Best National Final

For a hardened national final watcher, it appears that behind the scenes the broadcasters are upping their game. Several national finals took different options this year for a variety of reasons, but in all cases there's a desire to send better songs and aim for the win in Istanbul.

There are three song selection finals for chosen performer - including the host country. They do suffer from the same problem that if you don't like the chosen act, you won't like, or feel invested in, the song that country choses. But in this case two of the choices were inspired. Both Türkiye and Macedonia knocked it out of the park. TRT in Türkiye especially took a risk in choosing Athena - a band almost quintessential singing non-traditionally Turkish songs. Well done.

Yet these are still song selection finals and thus lack the full depth of quality and variety of a strong national final. The two central axes of national finals season, Melodifestivalen and the Festival di San Remo (I know, not a national final - especially as Italy weren't even at Eurovision), both seem to be having quiet years, so it's left to an emerging new hotbed of talent an ambition to take over the national finals scene.

Northern Central Europe, your time is now. In the Baltic States, the three countries continue doing their own wonderful thing, but Germany and Poland have both upped their game dramatically. Krajowe Eliminacje 2004 has many major Polish names competing against each other and the return for TVP is that the televote increased exponentially. The top three acts all received a televote total in excess of the entire televote for all the acts Krajowe Eliminacje 2003 combined. Engagement in Poland was huge.

But it's Germany 12 Points! that takes me prize for best national final this year. NDR truly went for it. The names they got are some of the biggest in the German music scene in 2004. Chart acts, major selling bands, strong voices, and up and coming acts with big appeal among a younger, less traditional crowd. There is a lack of joke acts for a change (who all seem to have gone to Austria instead). The quality is immense and the audience in the studio watching the final are invested. In the end there was a blow-out winner thanks to a televote that was perhaps quite considerably more conservative than the producers or audience, but it's a national final for the ages. 2004 may be the year that Germany got itself into gear - so much so that Stefan Raab, the man behind the German Eurovision act for 2004 invented his own German competition: The Bundevision Song Contest started in 2005.

Outside of that, with the advent of the semi-final system, there was explosion in the number of national finals. In one year it increased to thirty. National final season is now a thing. There are new national finals from Belarus and Andorra. Serbia and Montenegro can finally send someone to Eurovision using their national final which had its first instalment in 2003. Festivali i Këngës is also now sending songs to Eurovision in its 42nd edition.

Before finishing, let's spare a thought for the BBC and the United Kingdom. After the disaster of 2003, in contrast to most of the rest of Europe, no musical acts in the UK at all really wanted to take part in the reinvented national final Making Your Mind Up. Even though it was poor, they had at least ditched the radio only semi, got a bigger studio and audience and some bigger celebrity names. Now they needed some better songs and singers. It may take a while.

[translations-by-aiimee]

Mistakenly Saving the Villain - Chapter 20

Original Title: 论救错反派的下场

Genres: Drama, Romance, Xianxia, Yaoi

This translation is the product of my limited knowledge of Chinese characters as I attempt to learn the language. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Buy me a Ko-fi ☕

Chapter 20 - Self-Recommended

Song Qingshi was a little uneasy.

He felt that he had forgotten something very important.

An Long was arranged in the Meditation Courtyard, and the medical servants who served him were carefully selected by Yue Wuhuan, who were elderly people who did things steadily. Because An Long was fond of drinking, he secretly drank the precious medicinal wine in his cellar when he was an alcoholic, so this time, he sent someone to purchase a batch of high-quality wine and send it to the other courtyard.

The bed chamber's doors, windows, and roof were also equipped with an alarm spell to prevent An Long from going into a drunken stupor and crawling into his room in the middle of the night, dragging him to climb trees together to catch cicadas, and burrowing into the grass to find crickets.

Everything was arranged properly. What had he forgotten?

In the middle of the night, Song Qingshi let his hair down, changed into pyjamas, and lay on the bed tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep no matter what.

Finally, a flash of recognition flashed across his mind, and he remembered what he had forgotten. . .

Song Qingshi suddenly jumped up from his bed. He put on his shoes and robe in a panic and ran to An Long's yard recklessly.

He forgot that Xiao Bai loved to eat mice!

. . .

It was too late at night, and the smell of alcohol in An Long's room was so heavy that it could be smelled outside the door. The lights had already been turned off, and the person inside seemed to have fallen asleep.

Song Qingshi stood at the door and gathered his robe in his hand. He raised his knocking hand, hesitated for a while, and then knocked lightly.

A moment later, the door slowly opened.

A strong smell of alcohol gushed out, and a pair of strong arms wrapped around his waist in the darkness.

"Baby, you're finally here."

Song Qingshi's head spun. Before he could understand what was going on, he was already being carried to bed.

His outer robe was haphazardly spread open. Both of his hands were heavily pinned down, and hot, humid gasps brushed against his neck. His hoarse voice was full of longing: "Don't leave tonight."

Song Qingshi tried to struggle but found that he couldn't move at all.

Guys who train their bodies are all animals. Their brute force was astonishing, it was simply impossible to fight against it.

His body's spiritual fire rose instantly, raising his body's temperature to as hot as a soldering iron.

An Long screamed a miserable "Ahhhh" from being burned. He let go of his hands and rolled off the bed dishevelled.

Song Qingshi lit the candlestick with the spiritual fire in his hand and looked at the man on the ground coldly: "Are you sober?"

An Long turned pale with shock: "Why are you here?"

Song Qingshi put away the flames and fastened his outer robe again. He asked with a dark face, "Who did you think it was?"

"I thought. . ." An Long's expression was extremely embarrassing. He clutched his injured hand and said aggressively, "I thought it was that girl named Huang Ling who came to present herself."

Huang Ling? Song Qingshi thought about it and realized that he had some recollection of this medical servant. She had only been in Medicine King Valley for a few years. She was considered a newcomer responsible for sweeping the nearby gardens. Most of the medical servants in the valley were men. There were only thirty or forty women, and most of them were middle-aged. Huang Ling was young, cheerful, smart, bold, and good-looking, so she was quite popular among the medical servants. Song Qingshi often ran into her in the courtyard and would exchange a few words with her to help her with her troubles, but after Yue Wuhuan took charge of the housekeeping, he never saw her again.

"You always say that every day, I'm the one that drinks and causes trouble. What are you doing here today if you don't drink?" An Long saw him hesitate, and the villain immediately complained, "With your hair down, dressed like this, just look in the mirror, isn't my mistake understandable? You should be thankful that I light a lamp, otherwise, I'd have been scared to death."

Song Qingshi couldn't help but look back at the mirror, at his white robe and long hair. . .

Well, he did look a bit like a female ghost.

Although it was a little uncomfortable, everyone here was a man, and it was an unintentional mistake. He wasn't a great beauty like Yue Wuhuan either. Nothing bad had happened, so it wasn't worth worrying about.

"Forget it," Song Qingshi graciously changed the subject: "When did you hook up with my medical servant?"

"Don't talk nonsense," An Long climbed onto the edge of the bed and sat down, raising his hand and swearing, "She's the one who has been hitting on me. Ask her if you don't believe me."

He haphazardly draped his blouse, loosely tying his pants halfway so they wouldn't fall. He sat with a big grin, showing a perfect inverted triangle figure and eight-pack abs on his feral waist. He exuded a bad boy char which was very attractive to women.

Song Qingshi thought about his glorious deeds of promiscuity and didn't doubt him. . .

An Long asked with a smirk, "Why are you looking for me in the middle of the night?"

"I didn't come looking for you," Song Qingshi remembered why he was here and immediately stood up, looking around, "Where's Xiao Bai?"

Haolong snaked down from the beam and raised his head affectionately.

Song Qingshi grabbed Haolong and gave him serious instructions, ordering him not to eat any mice in Medicine King Valley.

Haolong was extremely spiritual, nodding his head to express his understanding. Song Qingshi knew that it would not mess around like An Long, so he finally put his mind at ease. He promised to compensate it with a lot of delicious food and agreed to play with it.

During the man and the snake's exchange, An Long looked out the door with a smirk. He had long noticed that Yue Wuhuan was standing far away in the courtyard, taking in everything that had happened in the room. However, he couldn't see any flaws in Yue Wuhuan's body; his expression and movements were very relaxed, and he didn't take these farces to heart at all.

How interesting. . .

Noticing that An Long was watching him, Yue Wuhuan hurriedly saluted and lowered his head in embarrassment, pretending not to notice anything.

Every response was impeccably natural.

He was like a servant who knew his status well. He was sensible and well-behaved, and he never took a step out of place.

Unfortunately, An Long didn't believe it.

In Xilin, everyone knew that the more colourful something was, the more poisonous it was.

. . .

Song Qingshi educated Haolong well and prepared to leave.

An Long smiled and pointed to the door: "Your disciple saw this whole debacle."

"It's all your fault." Song Qingshi blushed a little, feeling that his mature and stable image in front of Yue Wuhuan had been ruined by the bastard An Long. He hurried away and took Yue Wuhuan away from the Meditation Courtyard.

Seeing the two walking away, An Long got up, opened another jar of wine, and downed it vigorously.

The more he drank, the more sober he became.

He touched his burnt hand and laughed at himself, "Ha, I thought something good would happen. . ."

. . .

While walking, Song Qingshi explained to Yue Wuhuan: "That guy is just an Alaskan, don't take it to heart. I don't usually do that."

Yue Wuhuan asked, puzzled, "What's an Alaskan?"

Song Qingshi's lingering anger still persisted: "The dog!"

His sister had an Alaskan dog, and he professionally demolished the house. She refused to correct his despite repeated scoldings. He was very irritating. He slipped once and was dragged directly into the river because of his bad legs. Fortunately, the water was shallow, and he didn’t drown, but she had to coax him out of the water with food.

Although Yue Wuhuan didn't quite understand, he didn't want to ask more questions and instead brought up something else: "A medical servant came to report that Huang Ling was caught outside the Meditation Courtyard. This girl is indeed restless and wants to seduce the master of the Ten Thousand Companions Sect. Master, do you. . . think we should send her to the manor?"

Song Qingshi thought for a while: "Okay, send her there."

Although it wasn't a big deal for young women to think about sex, there are many valuable materials in Medicine King Valley, so keeping people with ulterior motives wasn't appropriate. And An Long is a womanizer, and the stunning female cultivators didn't know how many women he had dumped. He once lied about hiding in Medicine King Valley, which caused several female cultivators to come and make trouble for important people, crying, jumping around, and fighting each. If it wasn't for the fact that the medicine that was being made couldn't be left alone, the original body would have been so angry that he would have gone out to settle accounts with him. In short, this kind of scumbag was not someone ordinary girls should get acquainted with. It was a good idea to stay away.

Yue Wuhuan responded and then gently covered his nose.

Song Qingshi noticed his small movements and was puzzled: "What's wrong?"

Yue Wuhuan hesitated for a moment, then said: "The smell of wine on Master's body. . . is a bit strong."

Song Qingshi sniffed his sleeve belatedly and smelled a faint whiff of alcohol. He instantly felt extremely uncomfortable and hurried to the bathroom at the back of the bed chamber: "Wuhuan, get me a new pair of pyjamas. I want to take a bath."

"Okay," Yue Wu smiled and chirped, "Clean up well."

Song Qingshi cast a few cleansing spells on himself, then happily jumped into the big hot spring bath and swam a few laps. Then he lay down on the shore, secretly poking the thin soft skin on his pale belly, thinking about An Long's eight-pack abs mermaid waistline, and thinking about Yue Wuhuan's beautiful and compact waistline. Suddenly something felt wrong.

After finally having a healthy body, shouldn't he take time to train himself to make himself more masculine?

Song Qingshi dully thought for a long time.

. . .

Yue Wuhuan sat on the steps outside, calmly playing with a scalpel while reading a book.

There was only darkness in his eyes under the lamplight, like a bottomless abyss.

How could he not be angry about such a thing?

Covered in the smell of the filthy guy who played with vermin, he was so disgusted that he felt like he was about to vomit. . .

He had paid a terrible price countless times that could allow him to remain calm the angrier he got, to remain natural the more disgusted he was. He must not be seen as unwilling. At this time, he would replace his tears with laughter, turn his pain into pleasure, and change his wails into sounds of joy to keep this disgusting guy entertained. He was very familiar with the drill.

Then, lurking in the deepest shadows. . .

He would be patient and wait.

Until the moment arose when it was time to bear his venomous fangs.

The author has something to say: Song Qingshi: What relationship can I have with a man other than friendship? Those who think wrongly are not decent people!

Yue Wuhuan smiled: Whatever Master says is right.

An Long smirked: Whatever Qingshi says is right~

[depoteka]

my ranking and review of all eurovision 2023 songs

(don't expect any intellectual deep dives, i just tried articulating my feelings the best i could but it was hard bc i'm so lukewarm on so many songs. if the reviews don't make sense it's because i wrote them before i used the esc gerbear to sort the places hhh)

37. iceland: diljá - power

it definitely is a song that is competing in eurovision this year and i've listened to it. it doesn't make me feel anything so i don't know what to say. it's a fast pop song but i'm not even vibing to it :( i just don't like it

36. switzerland: remo forrer - watergun

oh switzerland, just because sad boy gjon worked in 2021 doesn't mean you need to keep sending sad boys now... a really boring attempt at an anti-war song

35. cyprus: andrew lambrou - break a broken heart

i don't think i'm really into men singing some heartbreak songs tbh i don't like those howls in the song and the rest sorta sounds imagine dragons-ish to me, the verses at least

34. greece: victor vernicos - what they say

it's cool that he's playing bass in the music video but the song isn't making me feel much. ain't gonna really talk shit about it bc the dude's just 16, i hope he has fun at eurovision

33. italy: marco mengoni - due vite

i like to think italy is my fave eurovision country and then they send a ballad….. i actually watched sanremo (tho i haven't seen any of the nights till the end bc i'm not that strong Yet) and marco wasn't my favourite at all, i was actually surprised how crazy the audience kept going whenever he was performing. of course i can see it getting some good result because it's a classic italian ballad. just not for me

32. ireland: wild youth - we are one

we've got u2 at home/the u2 at home:…. this song has the most generic love love peace peace lyrics ever and whatever unity they are singing about i don't want to be a part of it

31. poland: jann - gladiator blanka - solo

baybeh….it's kinda crazeh… allegedly it was a big radio hit before "winning" the preselections but imma be real with you, i'd never heard it before. it's a harmless pop song without any substance and if it was selected internally i'd be like meh but all the bullshit that went down at our national final makes me mad. i hope we flop hard

30. portugal: mimicat - ai coração

something about it to me feels like early 00s eurovision and i must admit, i don't really like it. though the performance in liverpool might be quite fun

29. romania: theodor andrei - d.g.t. (off and on)

the national final performance of this song is a state of mind. to be frank i feel like the esc fandom is overhating this song, it's not That bad. am i a fan of this song? no. would i like it to see it in the final with the same staging just for laughs? yes

28. israel: noa kirel - unicorn

israel i'm so sorry 0 points……. this song is a disjointed mess to my ears, i think it would've been better if they stuck to just one of the styles they used in this song. all the mentions of unicorns in this song make me cringe. not to mention the "you wanna see me dance?" bit which um, also makes me cringe. no problem with a dance break but why did she have to announce it like that out of nowhere. my favourite part of the song is probably the "u-ni-corn" chant at the very end but other than that eh. this song was written to make the staging crazy and exciting but as a song it doesn't work for me

27. azerbaijan: turalturanx - tell me more

brave of azerbaijan to send two dudes with their song that sound like it teleported itself from an early 00s shitty british movie. that rap part sounds like it's from a corporate song targeted at a young audience to idk make them stop smoking asdfadsf there's something endearing about this song tho

26. uk: mae muller - i wrote a song

i recognize that it's a step in the right direction for the uk and it's a rather fun song but tbh i just don't connect with it. i really liked sam last year and sadly in comparison mae's song seems quite weak to me. though i hope that the (de facto) host country curse doesn't work on the uk this year tho and they don't end up on the very end of the board

25. the netherlands: mia nicolai & dion cooper - burning daylight

ngl i forgot about this song after the first listen. i don't even know what to say about it really, it's just really underwhelming to me. i think i don't actively hate it but i also don't really like it

24. georgia: iru - echo

english grammar rules have left the chat. i'm baffled by the lyrics. but the song overall (along with the video) feels like something from outer space or the future. not in a crazy way tho. i think it has some potential

23. denmark: reiley - breaking my heart

bts are on hiatus so it's his time to shine. no but seriously, there's something so kpopy about this song? i defo like it more than the other "breaking heart" song this year but still. the dude gives me some uncanny valley feeling, especially considering he allegedly pretends to be 5 years younger than he actually is? i love eurovision drama

22. estonia: alika - bridges

we have very few true ballads this year but i think this one's ok!! not a ballad girl myself but i don't mind this one, i like her voice. gives me adele bond theme vibes. i've seen people say alika isn't really selling this song but i saw her national final performance and it seemed fine to me? not much you can really do when you're singing a ballad tbh

21. armenia: brunette - future lover

imma be real with you, i laughed out loud when i first listened to this song because of the lyrics. but i think the song is kinda nice anyway? not a fave but it's nice enough

20. malta: the busker - dance (our own party)

they got sax and in theory i should like it. but i'm not a fan. the whole "ooh i wanna stay at home in my sweater" shtick doesn't work for me. i can see why some people are vibing to this song but it's not doing it for me

19. sweden: loreen - tattoo

i'm a noted hater of sweden at eurovision so don't expect me to say anything nice hhhh the song is rather fine and loreen is fantastic but at the same time i feel like the entire song is just one idea repeated over and over without any sort of variation. her staging at melfest seems quite interesting but overall i don't think this has a potential to win? especially if the people watching in may remember euphoria. tattoo pales in comparison

18. san marino: piqued jacks - like an animal

hear me out………i don't hate this song. yes maybe it's cringe but somehow it keeps getting stuck in my head because it's catchy asdfasdfadsf i'm waiting for the studio version bc it's hard to properly judge it based on the shit sound mix at san marino nf

17. ukraine: tvorchi - heart of steel

was kinda surprised watching vidbir when this won! but then again ukraine keeps giving us different things constantly. i quite like this song but it's also too lowkey for me, nothing to go crazy about. still, it's a vibe

16. norway: alessandra - queen of the kings

ngl when i first heard the song i couldn't understand why people like it so much. now i enjoy it more but i wouldn't say it's a fave of mine? i can see it getting a good result though, there's something very eurovision about it

15. serbia: luke black - samo mi se spava

i feel like technically i should like this song but i….don't. i think the music itself is quite fun but…..the performance makes it seem like it was written for the netflix eurovision movie. something about this guy's voice bothers me. the nail to the coffin for me is the fact that the title of this song sounds close to "samo mi się spawa" in polish which means "it welds on its own for me" instead of "i just wanna sleep" which is what the title actually means 💀 i can't shake this association off and it doesn't help me like this song more

14. slovenia: joker out - carpe diem

at first i wasn't impressed but overall i think it's quite a fun indie/pop rock song!! and it's always nice to hear a native language instead of english

13. lithuania: monika lynkytė - stay

it's a pleasant song and the lithuanian bit is my fave part of the song. overall i don't mind it, but also i'm not crazy about it. sort of disappointed because i really loved sentimentai last year :(

12. belgium: gustaph - because of you

i haven't watched the belgian nf so i don't know what the other options were (that people are so mad about not winning) but i quite like this one!!! it's a bop, makes me wanna dance. i hope gustaph brings some voguing to liverpool

11. moldova: pasha parfeni - soarele şi luna

the only true folk influenced song we have this year, i like it!! it's a banger, it has some sort of flute going on, from what i've seen the lyrics refer to a folk legend? we love it

10. australia: voyager - promise

banger!! pleasantly surprised because i don't think i've ever really really liked any of australia's entries in the past. thought the random high note in the second verse is quite funny to me tbh asdasdfds

9. croatia: let 3 - mama ŠČ!

i think it's more of a whole package where the song doesn't really make full sense without the performance but in some strange way i enjoy the song anyway. the lyrics also are quite understandable in polish which probably also makes it easier for me (and i imagine other slavic people as well) to understand the message without feeling confused about what's going on

8. albania: albina & familja kelmendi - duje

the drama?? i love it. i saw somebody say it feels like a turkish telenovela and they've got a point. it makes me feel something (unlike some other entries) and i appreciate it. plus the instrumental absolutely fucks

7. spain: blanca paloma - eaea

when i first heard the song i didn't understand it at all. i feel like i still don't fully Get it but there's something so fascinating about it to me that i can't stop thinking about it. i'm so confused? but i think it means i enjoy it. definitely something i like more than slomo last year

6. germany: lord of the lost - blood & glitter

yell heah!! germany finally sending something worthwhile. i keep listening to this song on loop, i wanna twerk to it. love the combo of metal AND glitter <3

5. france: la zarra - évidemment

i already liked it at first listen and it keeps growing on me! not a big fan of chanson type of songs but this one is a banger + her look in the music video is gorgeous, i hope she keeps it for liverpool

4. czechia: vesna - my sister's crown

liked it before it was chosen at czechia's national final and was happy when they won but i kinda got bored of it after a month or so? i still think it's a good song (even tho i know people have some issues with it) and i love the mix of three different slavic languages. i think with the right staging they can win me back

3. latvia: sudden lights - aijā

OK OK… when i first heard it i was like ok. but then one evening i randomly found myself watching the moldovan nf and they were guests there and when they played their song in this shitty studio i was like omg it's actually really good?? obsessed with the lullaby bit at the end. i hope to god they qualify, they need to bring justice to latvia after citi zeni's nq last year

2. austria: teya & salena - who the hell is edgar?

what a surprise?? adored it at first listen. it both manages to be a bop while also trying to say something. i loved in corpore sano last year, i love who the hell is edgar this year

1. finland: käärijä - cha cha cha

what can i say......i usually don't really listen to any of the national final songs and just wait for the winner of each one but the thumbnail for cha cha cha music video on yt intrigued me so i watched it. and immediately i wanted käärijä to win eurovision weeks before he even won the finnish nf. the song is sooo addictive and his entire look/performance is hypnotizing. i know he's a favourite to win rn but if he somehow flops in may i'm gonna be really really sad. come on, it's crazy it's party. i think this finnish win would be a really fitting addition to lordi's win in 2006