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deadcactuswalking · 1 year ago

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REVIEWING THE CHARTS: 16/12/2023 (Dave/Jack Harlow, Fred again../Baby Keem, Christmas Garbage)

Content warning: Some language, brief references to abusive sexual relationships and ho-ho-ho, merry Christmas

Once again, “Last Christmas” is at #1, as anyone would really expect - Mariah’s at #3, the Pogues are at #5 and filling in the gaps we have “Lovin’ on Me” by Jack Harlow at #4 and Noah Kahan’s “Stick Season” at #2. It’s Christmas again, so excuse the shoddy structure, but there’s actually a lot more to this week than one may expect. I guess welcome back to a semi-festive episode of REVIEWING THE CHARTS!

Rundown

It was an odd week, this one. A lot of Christmas songs actually decreased in chart position although obviously remained actually stable, and there’s not really much at all there to replace these songs, and most gains or falls weren’t at all substantial. So it’s like a liminal space of a week, in preparation for the Christmas #1 next week. There are more new arrivals than the usual Christmas week… they all kind of suck though. We have Tate McRae, a disappointing album from Nicki Minaj and Jack Harlow, as well as the dregs of The Idol, Baby Keem and… Cher? I mean, we’ve covered the Christmas stuff really, there are actually no songs making their first top 75 entry this year this week. Hell, three of the songs that re-entered last week have actually dropped back out though obviously they’ll be back next week or the next. We do have some… secular gains, I suppose, with “Surround Sound” by JID featuring 21 Savage and Baby Tate at #64, “Lose Control” by Teddy Swims at #59, “On My Love” by Zara Larsson and David Guetta at #54, “exes” by Tate McRae at #39 thanks to the album - again, more on that later, and then new peaks for the Amazon originals: Jorja Smith’s “Stay Another Day” cover at #20 and Sam Ryder getting his second top 10 with “You’re Christmas to Me” at #10 - for God’s sake.

In terms of our notable drop-outs, songs exiting the UK Top 75, which is what I cover, after five weeks in the region or a peak in the top 40, and I didn’t need to say all that because the only notable songs to bid adieu to this week are “Liquor & Cigarettes” by Chase & Status and Hedex featuring ArrDee and I suppose “Standing Next to You” by Jung Kook. Again, take Christmas-week drop-outs with a grain of salt.

NEW ARRIVALS

#60 - “One of the Girls” - The Weeknd, JENNIE and Lily Rose-Depp

Produced by The Weeknd, MIKE DEAN and Sage Skolfield

I still haven’t seen The Idol - I mean, why should I watch that show? - but for whatever reason, TikTok has latched onto some of the soundtrack cuts which, to my knowledge, are Weeknd leftovers with guests tacked on, though at least JENNIE and Lily-Rose Depp are actually cast members, with Rose Depp being the second main character after The Weeknd’s… “Tedros”. Sorry, I’m just learning these characters’ names, “Tedros”? Alright, well, is the song good? Well, it’s a pretty unsettling one, with JENNIE’s airy vocals soon rendered void by a stodgy bass beat and grimy, flickering percussion that sounds pretty terrible, especially with singers who have such high, careening falsettos, or just straight can’t sing that well like Rose Depp here who feels a bit out of her depth attempting to be all that convincing. She sounds a bit bored and stretched thin, which makes some sense for this song about rough, emotionless sex, but doesn’t make it any more appealing. In fact, there’s an ugly lack of passion or seduction here that I think does the song a lot of good for the most part, largely because, well, this doesn’t sound like a healthy relationship at all. It is a shame that JENNIE’s parts just… don’t fit, they almost feel off beat and Tedros over here has very little chemistry with either woman, though with JENNIE, to be fair, there’s not really much chance for him to even harmonise with her, she’s reallly set apart. It’s a pretty ugly, slow dirge with a sprinkling of 80s synths, very typical for The Weeknd, and it’s not exactly bad, but it also doesn’t feel all too special

#58 - “Needle” - Nicki Minaj featuring Drake

Produced by Boi-1da, YogiTheProducer and 40

Alright, big story of the week: Nicki Minaj debuts at #3 on the albums chart with the sequel to Pink Friday - the first instalment reached #16 over here, surprisingly low - and she debuts two new songs, both with features, and I’ll refrain from saying too much because I’ve expressed my first impressions and opinions on the album on my RateYourMusic log and I don’t see much point going further into it here, especially since the tracks we get aren’t fully representative of the album, but I do think this is particularly sad of an effort, even if I generally like Nicki quite a bit. The trend-chasing, the samples, the odd level of sincerity that seeps in only to create a cynical product, it’s almost pretty depressing, especially when this is a bloated, rushed album serving as a sequel to perhaps her most iconic and important project. It’s… unfortunate, though I find it difficult to say that Nicki is at fault for most of it, though she definitely doesn’t help on this one, which is mostly a Drake song. I don’t particularly like Drake in his dancehall or Afrobeats mode, but his singing isn’t bad and whilst the mix feels a tad messy, the subtle synth pads and little vocal samples in the chorus lead to a pretty solid foundation for the groove, though the percussion loop is a bit incessant for four minutes. Nicki is… here, though not with a particularly impressive verse, in fact a pretty awkward one, and her cascading vocal mix in the backing vocals, sometimes harmonising with Nana Fofie, and the final chorus, feels very tacked-on and honestly kind of gross, especially since Drake couldn’t sound any less engaged, and the instrumental outro is a tad lengthy for a song that is purposefully not doing much of anything. It’s really far from the worst on the album though… we’ll get to it.

#55 - “run for the hills” - Tate McRae

Produced by Ryan Tedder and Jasper Harris

Tate McRae’s new album THINK LATER debuted at #5 on this week’s albums chart. It’s Ryan Tedder’s vessel of manufactured pop writing wherein Tate McRae is a vehicle for regurgitated fluff that Tedder probably has a team of people deciding to include. I’m usually not nearly this cynical about pop music but there just really isn’t anything on this one that redeems it, or feels all that human, especially not McRae herself, but it’s not like the floaty algorithmic production helps at all. This is far from the album’s worst but is also probably one of its most derivative, given that lower on this week’s chart, we had a song by The Weeknd debut and I’m getting deja vu. The drums even sound just as clicky and awful, if not more, and McRae doing her half-rap thing on the chorus to fill in all these lyrics rapidly with little care for the song actually functioning as a coherent whole is just embarrassing. The album is a microcosm of all recent pop trends and this is one of the more egregious attempts, especially because God, she cannot pull off alternative R&B to save her life, and the OneRepublic guy shouldn’t be making her try.

#53 - “Everybody” - Nicki Minaj featuring Lil Uzi Vert

Produced by DJ Smallz 732 and Tate Kobang

You’ve got to be kidding me. Okay, so I fully expected Lil Uzi Vert to show up on a track, even if they actually aren’t on the CD version, much like over half of the album apparently. Nicki often collaborates with Uzi so I expected a phone-in verse. I also expected Nicki to include several awkward nostalgia-bait samples because that’s been her thing this era, and I also expected Nicki to experiment with a Jersey club jam because she did it on “Barbie World” and this album needs all the audience it can get. However… sigh, “Move Your Feet” by Danish duo Junior Senior peaked at #3 in 2003, whilst Christina Aguilera’s “Beautiful” was #1. And here it is, completely butchered on “Everybody”, which is a pretty manic track, stripping the song of its tight grip on the groove, and flavourful sound palette, by drenching it in the mysterious Jersey club allure that comes with an odd level of angsty-feeling percussion, and stop-start rhythms, that whilst expected with the genre do not fit this sample at all, which itself struggles for space in the mix against Nicki, who whispers along to its hook and uses the iconic “Everybody!” refrain to fill in her own bars, but doesn’t even do the full chorus because of course she doesn’t, even though she is heavily relying on that chorus because these verses are minimal and the pre-chorus is ridiculous. She even references the Kanye leak she refused to clear her verse on just yesterday, and that’s before the song feels like it even starts, which for the record, is when Lil Uzi Vert comes in with some incoherent intensity. They’re just doing their “Just Wanna Rock” schtick again, but it will always work for me, even if just for their brief appearance here, especially when they say the beat is so hard that they just might die. Sadly, it returns to the state of limbo it was in prior and just fades out lazily instead of making use of its Uzi-addled climax, not that the song wasn’t dead on arrival in the first place. Again, this is embarrassing.

#41 - “DJ Play a Christmas Song” - Cher

Produced by Mark Taylor

In the darkest days, at least there’s Cher. This is the long-term entertainer and greatest-of-all-time Twitter account’s first hit this big since around 2013, and I always wondered why Cher had never tried her hand at self-inserting herself into the Christmas canon, or at least why she hadn’t done it before Mariah or Kelly, who are in some ways the Chers of their respective generations. It turns out she released an entire Christmas album, with covers and original songs, and duets from Stevie Wonder to Cyndi Lauper to Tyga. It also turns out she also did a Christmas duet in 1999 with comedian Rosie O’Donnell, who also did a Christmas duet with Macy Gray on that same album for “Winter Wonderland”, which we talked about last week. Christmas music is a small world, and it’s all connected through one comedian, clearly. As for the song itself, it’s completely serviceable, using the same Auto-Tune warble that she made iconic with “Believe” over a synthscape that kind of blends its way from 80s synthpop to 90s Euro-trance, but doesn’t sound bad at all. The percussion is a bit rote though, and doesn’t really fit the looser feeling of Cher’s older, slower vocals, even if she does display a lot of pure joy and expressiveness that you just don’t hear that often nowadays. There’s also a lot to be found in the request to just play that Christmas song that gets you dancing, as a temporary escape from everything else in life. It’s cute, innocuous, I could even see it making itself into the canon eventually, but I can’t say I’m a massive fan, at least not for now. Still better than everything else so far, but this next one might give it some company.

#30 - “leavemealone” - Fred again.. and Baby Keem

Produced by Fred again.., Alex Gibson, Benji Gibson, Four Tet, Loose, Sid Stone and Skrillex

These next two songs are actually quite similar: both would-be top 10 hits without Christmas featuring American rappers, penned by acts who don’t contribute vocals, containing one artist I quite like and one I… am weary of to say the least. This one does have the edge a bit because it’s stacked with seven producers, with Fred seemingly bringing his brothers into the mix alongside his common collaborators Four Tet and Skrillex, who pretty much always help Fred make some magic so even if it has Kendrick’s SoundCloud rap cousin on it, it could still be good. Hell, Keem’s artist credit isn’t as much of a feature as it is just using chopped-up vocals from his album cuts, 2021’s “south africa” and 2019’s “BULLIES”, so this could be a shining light in this week and… it’s drum and bass. If you’ve read any episode of this show, you’ll know this is a cheat code, and yes, I think the song’s great.

This has been a fan favourite at his shows for a while and I can see why with the looming sub-bass that is panned excellently, and a glitchy rendition of Keem that morphs him from his usual nasal mumble to something almost resembling a jungle MC, and Fred has a lot of fun teasing the audience with its long, stop-and-start build-up that uses a lot of mechanical clashes, almost IDM-esque, to establish the reckless paranoia that Keem actually contributes to through what you can make out of the lyrics, and whilst it isn’t exactly the most detailed or heavy breakbeat that comes in, it’s a whirry and industrial drop that hits in all the right places with tiny little details because I mean, of course, it’s Fred, Skrillex and Four Tet, it’s going to be intricate. I’d also like to say it’s one-note, but there’s a bridge where the bass becomes a static fuzz amidst some new sampled vocals from Sabrina Benaim, “I don’t want to go”, that push Keem further into restless isolation. That last build with what sounds like a fan getting closer and closer to Keem’s mantra of “everybody, everybody…” before the clearing off point, interrupted by a growling bass, before the drop comes back in and in full force this time, is absolutely brilliant. I know that half of what I do on this series nowadays is lush over detailed EDM tracks, so I will actually give some critique here: I want to hear what happens next. Don’t just peter out at less than four minutes: it goes into what sounds like a racket of a half-time drop by the end and I want to hear it get even noisier of a thrash. Maybe that’s what happens in the DJ sets where he plays this, I don’t know, but either way, an extended cut would be kind of sick, even if as it is, it’s already fantastic.

Also, yes, I do have a degree of chart nerd detail to note that the additional vocal from 070 Shake in the drop is most likely sampled from Ye’s “Ghost Town”, which peaked at #17 in 2018 - I remember reviewing it - whilst “One Kiss” by Calvin Harris and Dua Lipa was #1. The sampled Baby Keem tracks have not charted, and neither did Fred’s own track “Sabrina (i am a party)”, which is where he took Benaim’s vocals from, though they originated from a poem of her own that of course did not chart. I like these connections though.

#29 - “Stop Giving Me Advice” - Lyrical Lemonade, Dave and Jack Harlow

Produced by Hollywood Cole, Rascal, Daz, Matthew Tavares and Angel López

Oh, yeah, the other similarity: they have way too many producers. Anyway, for our final song, we have music video director Cole Bennett getting his DJ Khaled on by curating an album under his YouTube channel and production company’s name but contributing minimally to the music itself. At least maybe he can get some good, unique collaborations going, and I wouldn’t really expect Jack to make a song with Dave otherwise though it makes actually more sense than you’d think. They’re in some ways outsiders to the globally Americansied rap mainstream, they’re incredibly popular not because of but more in spite of their conscious leanings, and a lot of the time, they’re less interesting than they think they are, and I never want to hear what they have to say about women.

This could absolutely still be a good song though but sadly, most of it is Jack Harlow over this rattling Timbaland-esque beat except the groove just stutters instead of pulling itself forward or going into any interesting directions, kind of just letting the awkward bed of samples spread into a funkless beat. I zoned out of Mr. Harlow immediately when he asked me “have you ever raised the value of anyone around you?” and… the whole first verse is directed, arguably, to the haters, but it’s not like those haters are the only people who want to live Jack Harlow’s life, and it’s an entire verse of condescending hypotheticals and rhetorical questions that make him even more punchable than before. Sure, the rhyme scheme is nice in the second verse but by that time, he’s directing me to the chorus - which barely exists - and talking a lot of substanceless bars about his rapping ability which he’s yet to actually prove much of.

In fact, this is actually pretty terrible. This beat just becomes more incessant over time, especially with the added filtered vocal sample and Dave… well, he starts by seemingly dissing - or at least dismissing - everything Jack Harlow said, by saying his fans are nuanced and that Dave shouldn’t be unimpressed by everyday life, which is something that he actually aspires to have, but as soon as this verse picks up into pretty interesting territory with a great rhyme scheme, he… stops rapping… for seven straight seconds, in the middle of a bar, for no reason, and the man never picks that momentum back up, mostly because he adopts the rhetorical question BS that Jack did, except he’s spelling out his elementary “alone” / “a loan” wordplay, calling himself a feminist because of how he pays women in spending sprees for sexual favours, comparing how the people on death row eating their last meal just can’t compare to his seven-figure deals - maybe you’re forgetting all the gang violence you use to sell records, Dave - all the whilst painting himself as the “tortured artiste”, and this is simply the life of an artist escaping darkness… oh, and the super models he has sex with are so skinny they sound like skeletons. Delightful. I hope this pisses off the charts as soon as possible.

Conclusion

Yup, as predicted: really rough week, and honestly, though one song may be a tad more egregious in its sound, I’m still giving Worst of the Week to Lyrical Lemonade, Jack Harlow and Dave for the utterly degradable “Stop Giving Me Advice”, just a complete spit in the face of their own audiences with one of the most raggedy attempts at a 2000s throwback beat I’ve ever heard. As for the Dishonourable Mention, it’s easily going to “Everybody” by Nicki Minaj featuring Lil Uzi Vert, though Tate McRae wasn’t as far off as one may think. There’s not much worth in an Honourable Mention, considering the only good song here is miles better than anything else, so Best of the Week goes to “leavemealone” by Fred again.. and Baby Keem. I know, what a surprise. It’s the Christmas #1 next week - kind of, since the tracking week doesn’t include Christmas but this is what will be promoted as the Christmas #1 because it’s the chart three days before. That’ll be exciting, I’m sure, but as for now, thank you for reading and I’ll see you then!

#uk singles chart #pop music #song review #nicki minaj #pink friday 2 #drake #lil uzi vert #lyrical lemonade #jack harlow #dave #baby keem #fred again #tate mcrae #cher #the weeknd #jennie #lily rose depp

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kcyars189 · 1 year ago

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FASHION

BEAUTY

VESPA VERSE

Here’s Why HBO’s The Idol Deserves All The Hate It Got From The Internet

- Alexa! Please delete all The Weeknd songs from my playlist.

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Ekta Sinha

EKTA SINHA

JULY 3, 2023

The Idol

We watch shows to escape our boring realities, at times to find solace and mostly for a dose of entertainment. We all have a preferred genre, from romance and slice-of-life to a lot of us oddly enjoy crime documentaries and thrillers. But let’s face it, the content we consume online does impact us. Now imagine coming from work and binge-watching HBO’s The Idol, directed by Euphoria creator Sam Levinson, the show with layers of misogyny and an uncomfortable depiction of the ‘male gaze’. Well, I may have a different opinion (though, I hope not), but if you missed watching this show, believe me, you’re doing fine.

The Idol was released with a comprehensive storyline to shed light on the toxic work environment in the music industry. While one may expect it to move forward to show how pop stars are actually ‘created’ and promoted by sought-after music labels for their benefit, the show turns into a compilation of sleazy videos, all this in the first 15 minutes. The hype around the show is mostly contributed by the fact that it stars The Weeknd, a Canadian singer who goes by the name Abel Tesfaye, whose fans were thrilled to see him act in his first-ever show. However, it didn’t work well for the singer-turned-actor as fans took to the internet and called the show ‘cringe’ and criticised its unimpressive and poorly written plot.

The Plot And Its Plight

The protagonist, the ‘Idol’, is Jocelyn, played by Lily-Rose Depp, a teenage pop star who is about to make a comeback after a public mental meltdown. However, after a personal image of Jocelyn gets leaked online, the sales of her show’s tickets get impacted, and this happens before the release of her new single. While experiencing a hard time personally and professionally, Jocelyn seeks out Tedros, played by The Weeknd, a DJ and club owner who wins her heart (eye rolls).

The Idol Lily Rose Depp GIF - The Idol Lily Rose Depp Jennie Kim - Discover & Share GIFs

While Tedros as a character is problematic, which comes through loose dialogue-writing, Jocelyn, in a typical plot, falls for the wrong guy. What seems like abuse to the audience was portrayed as love for Jocelyn. At one point, I thought Sam Levinson had taken the plot from ChatGTP!

Sexy or Sexist

If reports are to be believed, the shooting for the show began with director Amy Seimetz who was later replaced by Sam Levinson. Seimetz abruptly left the six-episode series after completing almost 80% of it, according to a shocking undercover revelation by a publication that claims that The Idol’s co-creator, The Weeknd, disapproved of the feminist eye of Seimetz.

Apart from the storyline and dialogues, the costumes given to Jocelyn further add to the sexist portrayal of the character. Mostly dressed strings and scraps of fabric, it was pushed beyond the actual necessity of the plot. We all know sex sells, but The Idol’s sex scenes are painful, sleazy, gross, and borderline abusive to watch.

A few fans also called the show ’50 Shades of Tesfaye’ because of the extreme objectification of women especially in the sex scenes of the second episode. If that grossed you out, you’d not even want to watch the fourth episode where the torture scene of Troye Sivan’s character Xander with a dog collar is haunting, to say the least. When Depp was quizzed about these scenes in particular during the promotions, she shut the discussion calling it an ‘artistic vision’.

The Acting Ache

When the cast was first announced, the internet found it was a dreamy one. But as the episodes were released, the fans and audience were proved wrong. Naturally, in a show where outrageous visuals took centre stage, performance was the least of concern for the actors. However, the audience was quick to judge, and rightly so. Depp, who comes with some acting experience, failed to impress with her acting skills, let alone The Weekend who was doing it for the first time. Let us not get started on hideous erotic dance moves and expressions.

The Idol also marks K-Pop royalty, BLACKPINK’s member Jennie’s acting debut, which we pray never should have happened. Jennie’s barely-there dialogue delivery is awkward, with no facial expression. Even her fandom couldn’t save her from this catastrophe where the makers just roped her to cash in on her popularity.

The case in point here is that it’s not the sex scenes that may make you uncomfortable, it’s the treatment. The characters are not just misogynistic and sleazy, they will make you rethink the definition of artistic vision and value. Whether or not the scenes and dialogues support the character’s journey and progression or the story or vice-versa is food for thought. For now, the show ending an episode early with no traces of renewal is the only consolation we are happy with.

Also, read Food Thirst Trap Videos Are All Over My Social Media And I Don’t Have The Slightest Clue Why

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jodilin65 · 17 years ago

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THURSDAY, MAY 31, 2007 Today is one hot day! Very uncomfortable, too. It’s in the mid-80s and so Tom’s going to put the AC in tomorrow since we can’t have a place with normal windows. We’ve got the front window partially open and that’s it. If God didn’t have to go and tease us with money yet again, we could’ve raced our way out of here by now, but no. Instead, we may be stuck here throughout most of the summer, depending on the check. So Tom won’t be giving notice tomorrow till we know what the hell’s going on with this mother-fucking check I’m so close to tearing to shreds! They’ve been too busy at work for him to pull anyone aside to ask about depositing the check, and as I told him, he’s got to make the time so we can get the hell out of here! He says he will tomorrow.

From now on, each time we move, I’m not packing till the day before! I packed the mister and can’t find it, so I’m using a spray bottle to help keep me cool.

Tom said he still believes that while we might not be able to get a nice place, we could still get an adequate one. An adequate one would be a nice place after living in this dump! I tell ya, even the Phoenix house is a palace compared to this place. Either way, we’ll be destined to live like bums, always scraping pennies, always dealing with noise, for the rest of our lives.

I still worry about what health issues I’ll be hit with down there, though I’m more concerned with money and problem neighbors. Here it was my ear and ingrown toenail, down there it could be my pinky finger and my knee for all I know. There’s just no way to know what the bastard up there is going to do to me till I get down there. But I’m sure He’s got it all figured out by now.

I’m now just over 75,000 points on Netwinner.

WEDNESDAY, MAY 30, 2007 I was too tired to finish updating last night, so let me start with the saddest news of all. Tinkerbell has a tumor under her arm. It really is such a bummer knowing the best rat we’ve ever had won’t make it throughout the summer. She hasn’t lost her energy yet, but I know it’s only a matter of time.

Jessie said she’s so sorry about Tinkerbell, knows what I’m going through, and is sure Tinkerbell is happy to be comforted by me.

She also said she had to hand it to us for having the guts to up and move with no job/home. Yeah, but sometimes being brave and adventurous is what gets us in trouble! I’ll just be glad to know that this time around there’ll be more job opportunities and Unemployment checks to help get us started. Tom’s also thinking it’d be worth it to spend the money on a GPS device so we don’t waste gas looking for places while we’re getting to know the area.

Tom and I were debating which was the biggest mistake, Maricopa or Oregon. He says Maricopa, but I say Oregon was our biggest fuck-up.

Before I get more into that, Tom said he’s seen those same two people next door doing what almost everyone here does in the summer – barbecuing. Other than that, there are no cars or activity going on in the side yard, and Kim’s been the same. She usually doesn’t play music, but when she does, it continues to be the same old song. It’s weird.

We went to Fred’s after the fourth failed attempt to get the check cashed, and I got a couple of new sports bras, and a pair of dull-looking, but comfortable gray cotton shorts.

The weight/metabolism spell experiments are still inconclusive, but I’ve had a breakthrough with influencing my period to be a record two days late, and I didn’t start spotting till another record-breaking two days in advance. Before I couldn’t prevent spotting any closer than 4 days before it’d start.

I had been bummed out for a few days between Tinkerbell and the fact that the more he investigated rentals in the Sacramento area, the more the houses seemed unaffordable and that we’d be stuck having to play house with others all over again. Sure a townhouse or a duplex would be better than an apartment in a complex, but that would still be bad enough. It’s just the nature of shared structures. While I don’t expect to ever find a house that’s peaceful either, thanks to the car stereos and all the dogs left outdoors 24/7 that no one will do a damn thing about, I’d rather limit the noise sources to cars and dogs than go and add people’s footsteps, cabinets, doors, TVs and house stereos to the picture as well. If living with others is the only way to get started down there, so be it, but I sure hope we won’t have to, and Tom’s latest research has given me hope for that.

Here’s what’s pretty neat. When he was looking at smaller cities that are still big enough to have enough jobs available, yet more affordable housing on the outskirts of the city where it’s more ruralized, one of the most promising cities to come up was Merced, which means mercy in Spanish. When he first said Merced, my eyes bulged and I was like, “Oh my God, oh my God!” Then I reminded him of how he said that something was testing us to see how much we really wanted to get to Oregon, since this was where we broke down on our way up here, and I had said, “Or maybe something’s trying to tell us to stay out of Oregon.” Well, maybe it was saying neither! Maybe it was really saying, “Stop! Don’t go any further. This is it. This is where you should stay.”

Merced was beautiful with all its miles and miles of colorful oleanders, banana trees and palm trees. I remember wishing we could stay in a climate like that and thinking how much I’d miss the flowers and the palms. I’d love to live there! I don’t like the fact that it’s only 37% white and that there are tons of Mexicans down there, but I’m not nearly as worried about them as I would be if it were as full of blacks.

It would add another hour or two to the trip, but it’d be worth it. Where Sacramento is 253 miles from Klamath Falls, Merced is 347 miles. And instead of being 351 miles from L.A. as Sacramento would be, it’s just 249 miles. Still a day’s drive, but quicker to get to if I win a trip there, and there are lots of sweeps for trips to Southern Cal. If Kate Jackson ever does any more autograph signings at a convention down there, it sure would be closer, and of course, if I ever get to be an extra in a movie, that’d help, too. The more congested areas are from the Mexican border to north of L.A., so we’re up high enough to be above the crowds, but not so high as to be where it’s colder, more expensive, or further away from things. It’s about the same distance from the coast as Springfield was to the beach in Old Lyme, CT we’d go to, just over an hour. That beats being 2-3 hours inland like we are here, and the 6 we were in Arizona.

I’m going to study Merced to see if I can find some pulled wisdom teeth amongst all those damn tooth houses I hate so much. Still, a tooth house would be better than any shared place! I’ll check the satellite images some more. I’ve seen what appears to be a patchy quilt-like design surrounding the heart of the city, which tells me what I’ve heard to be the case; that it’s surrounded by farmland. This won’t tell me if someone has an affordable rental for us on a farm or even on just an acre or two, but it’ll give me a better idea of the population density and what the general scoop is down there.

TUESDAY, MAY 29, 2007 I’ve got good news and bad news to report.

First of all, I called Paula yesterday to see what she’s getting for social security. She’s getting $790 a month from SSI, though if I ever could get back on it, which I doubt, I might get less than that in light of what Tom makes. I don’t believe it, but she said she’d pick me up a standard release of information form and mail it out to me. Tom and I both went to their site and were confused by what we read. They want you to be confused, though, because the more people they deter from getting benefits, the more money they have to give away to other countries. I guess in order to apply for SSI you have to have your records. I think in the end I’ll decide the effort of trying to figure it all out won’t be worth it. Especially if it’s just going to be for nothing. Meanwhile, Paula’s working at a warehouse in CT and got a letter saying they’re going to terminate her benefits in a year. Her kid’s gonna be 18 in a couple of years, so that’s probably part of why she’ll be kicked off. She says it’s ok, though. I never thought she was disabled, just slow and not very bright. In fact, she’s so dumb at times that she went and sent me a letter a week or so ago to the mailing company we had when we first came to this damn state. I guess her stuff got disorganized when she moved and she’s a real packrat that’s saved all my letters, so she grabbed one with the wrong return address to send it to. She hates the new place, she says, because there are a lot of kids. I could hear them screaming over the phone. I thought it was her TV at first.

Today we went to the Chinese place, then over to Rent-a-Center because they claimed online that they cash checks, holding the check until it clears. First I was pissed at Tom for not calling first, which he admits was his fault. Then I was pissed because Tom still doesn’t believe me when I say we’re not meant to have that money! And of course, I was utterly furious at God. All I could think was “We’re stuck here, we’re stuck here. We’ll never get out of this state, and maybe not even out of this shit house. And there goes my Claritin or the chance to get my sleep problem diagnosed. There goes my chance to have insurance too, and of course, there’s the cold and the snow to deal with each winter.”

Tom pointed out, though, that if I continue to be right about the check, we’d be delayed only a couple more months, not stuck here, till he can make enough money to equal the check’s amount. But once again I couldn’t help thinking that God doesn’t want me to have any of my dreams realized, even though California wouldn’t be as I dreamed it’d be. My dreams never included the poverty, the freeloaders, the noise, etc. So he pointed out the AARP he’s eligible for on his birthday, the fact that they’re back to doing overtime at work, the paid vacation he’d get if we stood till the end of July, etc. But we don’t want to stay any longer than we have to, so if by some miracle we can get the fucking thing cashed, we’re outa here!

He told me about the few people at work he thinks we may be able to trust to deposit the check into their accounts and then let us have the money if it clears (we’ll give them a few hundred for doing us the favor), and that we could still sue the company if the check was bad. Tom probably is right about the check being good. He would know these things. I just feel more and more certain we’re not meant to have the money, good check or not. This is the fourth time we’ve tried to cash the damn thing!

So we decided to start with this couple who runs a licensed daycare service from their home. They sound more trustworthy than this other guy who’s always broke and always asking if we managed to get the check cashed. Runner-up to them may be this guy who owns an acre of land on Shasta, and then Eddie, the guy who moved us in here.

Fortunately, Tom was smart enough not to give them a specific date at work. He just told them “this summer” we’re moving.

Anyway, I told him to talk to people at work, I’ll sign the check over to them, then that’s it! No matter what happens from there on out, I don’t want anything more to do with this check!!! And I don’t want a damn thing more to do with cash sweeps either. At least not until we can open an account elsewhere. I went through and deleted the prizes I don’t really want and or don’t think I could get much money from, and those that had small cash prizes. I figured there’d be no problems opening an account for $25,000 and up, not that I’d ever win that big. Fuck this pay-to-win bullshit, though! As soon as we get moved, everything’s going in his name. When I change the address on the Robo form, I’m changing the name too, which he says would be no problem, but if we can’t get the check cashed, then he’s going to have to file for a tax amendment since we’d only be paying for a check we never could cash. Right now Netwinner’s more important, being as cut and dry as it is. I’ve set a goal of at least a thousand points a day. Some days this can take all day, others it can take a couple of hours or less.

Tom was telling me that this guy at work would gladly be a reference for him when he’s looking for a new job, so that’s cool.

SUNDAY, MAY 27, 2007 The new neighbors are being the perfect neighbors because we don’t have to live with them for long. They don’t even park in the yard along the side.

I’m still sometimes tempted to say “What the fuck? Let’s save money and take advantage of the pool/appliances we’d get by getting an apartment. I was never meant to be where I want to be anyway, and I know I’ll never be allowed to live in peace, so why not? I’m sure the choice won’t be ours in the end anyway.”

Wherever we end up, I’m not moving again till he’s at least 55!

I have my stereo blasting and I’m sitting right by one of the speakers yet I can still hear the assholes blasting by, and I still can’t believe no one does shit about it! Come on, God, have people start shooting these mother-fuckers, will ya? You’ve obviously got no problem with violence, so why not?

It wouldn’t deter the attention-getters. No, they’d gladly die in the name of getting attention. But it may finally encourage our twisted lawmakers to do something once and for all.

If I’ve hit upon a way to influence my weight, I wouldn’t know it with all this extra water I’m carrying, but I have set a spotting record. Tomorrow’s when my period’s due yet I still haven’t started spotting! It would be so nice if I could influence my period itself to get later and later each month till it finally disappeared altogether.

OLS continues to frustrate me with the hard work and restrictive sweeps, and now Webshots is irritating me too, posting pictures that have already been posted in previous years.

At least Netwinner’s still loads of fun. I’m now up to 71,140 points. They have this new multiplier promo that can multiply your wins 2x, 5x, 10x or 25x. So now there are more ways to win and more are promised to be on the way.

THURSDAY, MAY 24, 2007 The dog’s gone off for the day and so now I won’t be able to do things like make a cup of coffee in peace.

Tom said he saw two people in their 20s moving stuff in yesterday and that there was just one car over there. I’m surprised no one’s parked in the yard yet, but I doubt they’ll be a problem either way because God knows we’re almost out of here. I’m sure He’d rather wait till we get moved in someplace down there before he has someone sic their shit on us. Besides, by the time these people decide to let the neighborhood know they’ve arrived, we should be on our way out.

Tom’s still got a cold but is getting better. He cracked me up by telling me that a couple of nights ago when he crashed at 7:00, he woke up a little more than an hour later convinced that he was late for work. He said it took him 15 minutes to realize it was the evening.

We’re still on for giving notice on the 1st but aren’t sure if we’re leaving on the 15th or the 28th. I told him to let me know by the weekend because if it’s gonna be the 28th, we need to bomb. The spiders are appearing more often and bigger, of course.

I decided we should take the dressers. His is the shorter brown one and mine’s the tall white one. Except for a few scuffs and chips, they’re not half bad at all, and we could use them till we get something nicer. Tom agrees and said it wouldn’t be any biggie to move them. I’ll just get a new dresser for myself someday because I prefer long ones over tall ones. At that time I’ll give him this tall one. It’ll be perfect for him because it’s got less space up top for him to trash, and he’s tall so he can see the top easier.

Next week is when we’re going to try to get that damn check cashed. Tom still feels confident that it’s not only a good check, but that if it weren’t, we’d be able to sue for big bucks. Also, they’re a big company so they wouldn’t just close the account the check’s written on like I wondered. Then I guess we’ll get it cashed ok since God would never let us have big bucks.

We’re going to a city much like Phoenix, so right now, God’s blocking us from big bucks is the least of my worries, as opposed to Him either seeing that we lose everything or end up on the streets if He doesn’t sic neighbors like we had in Phoenix or at the duplex to provoke me so I can end up in jail. They couldn’t make me answer to any court calls, but if I was pushed into attacking some asshole, they could arrest me on the spot till Tom could bail me out. You can only push even the most tolerant person so far before they snap. I hope God would have the decency to continue to give us a break with the asshole neighbors, but until I see us have good neighbors elsewhere, I have to believe it’s just this house that’s protected somehow, be it by the horseshoe that was here before we moved in, and that as soon as we leave it, we’ll open ourselves right back up to the neighbor curse. That is unless the bamboos can fend them off for us. Whatever’s protected us from bad neighbors here is worthless at warding off the street noise and the barking.

I don’t know what I want to be next to more down there, a rental or a house that’s owned. Rentals can call for more troublemakers, but owners are certainly going to have dogs.

Sometimes I think we might be better off leaving the west altogether and heading east simply because I just get so sick of Western culture. I’m sick of the hear-me obsession, the dogs left outside round the clock to bark up a storm, the conservative, control-freaking bigots, etc.

Tinkerbell’s been sleeping under the bed or in the closet for many hours at a time lately. She goes home for drinks and a bite to eat periodically. She’s such an awesome pet. I wish she could live forever.

We had a cool snap where it slipped down into the low 60s, but now it’s back in the mid-70s.

If things went my way, we could use the check to get us furniture, but that’s not how it usually works, so I’m sure we’ll need to use the money for living expenses.

Jessie said that it’s terrible I’ll have to wait a year to see if I can get back on disability, and why is it so easy to get on welfare, but not disability? As I told her, it would be anything but easy for us to get on welfare. People don’t think white, childless people need to eat, too.

I made a promise to myself that if I didn’t get the benefits back, it’d be the absolute last time I’d try to make money other than by sweeping and give God a good laugh at my expense.

Same with any efforts to lose weight. This Chinese tea diet will be the last I’ll ever try if it doesn’t pan out. It’s got a money-back guarantee and is backed by 60 Minutes and Oprah. It at least looks more promising than anything else I’ve seen and a hell of a lot simpler because there’s no special diet, measuring or counting in any way. You just have two cups of this tea per day, and it’s not an appetite suppressant, but an actual fat killer. It’s a little pricey, though. I’m still going to watch what I eat and exercise, of course, but I’m willing to try this one last thing since I’m not sure I can ever influence my weight/metabolism. Influencing is highly based on visualization, and so I’m having trouble trying to figure out how to do it. Things that aren’t as tangible are harder for me to influence.

My eyes are doing well, but I still have my fuzzy moments. I can’t seem to focus them very well during the first hour of my day. Still, I refuse to wear those darn glasses!

TUESDAY, MAY 22, 2007 Kim and her song just came in, and I gave her a song of my own back, only much louder.

I got a kick out of this study 60 Minutes did about what makes a person gay or straight. While scientists are agreeing more and more that it’s not a choice or genetics (cuz identical twins can be gay/straight), it’s funny to see them make such a big deal out of nothing at all. It’s really no great mystery. It’s not upbringing, genetics, choice, or the fact that most guys are fucked up, it’s all in the hormones. Dah! The rat experiments they did even prove it. You think all gay guys just happen to be fems while gay chicks happen to be masculine? No way! I may be more feminine than most chicks that dig other chicks, but compared to most chicks, I’m really not that feminine when you consider my temper. Some of that may be my upbringing, but not all of it is. So the question’s not the cause, it’s when will people leave us the fuck alone? If I had to be reincarnated I’d still want to come back as a woman and gay. Except for Tom, guys are still uglier, dumber and not as good in bed. I’d just like to be Asian next time around so I can have nice dark eyes and hair. Straight hair too, probably.

Tom saw someone moving in next door yesterday but didn’t see any people. Just a van parked in front. Yeah, I knew it wouldn’t take long. Especially at this time of year. I know we’re going to have neighbor problems galore down there, but I’m just glad that whoever these people are, we won’t have to live with them for long up here!

We’re now debating whether or not it’s worth staying an extra two weeks, till his birthday, to get AARP discounts which he’ll be eligible for then since he’s turning 50.

Tom’s got a cold now which is probably due to all the overtime he’s been working. The overtime is now done, but it’s things like this that makes me hate the government all the more. If I’d been getting what’s so rightfully mine all along, the overtime wouldn’t be nearly as necessary. But you know our wonderful government; they’d rather give to other countries before they take care of their own. With all the things I’ve so hopelessly strived for in life, it’s going to be very hard to motivate myself. This is exactly the kind of thing God would make sure I failed to succeed with. Especially if I’m right about us being meant to spend most of our lives struggling. How many of my dreams/goals have I ever achieved? How many? But the fact that it’s money we’re talking about may help keep me going whenever I get discouraged along the way. If it were about changing people’s opinions about whatever, changing laws, or my appearance, then it’d be harder.

WEDNESDAY, MAY 16, 2007 We’re in the 20s now! Yes, just 28 days to go as of midnight! That is, assuming we really do leave on our anniversary, which is what it’s looking like. Then it’s off to listen to new dogs, new neighbors, new car doors, new stereos, and to acquire new medical problems and new money problems, but it’ll be nice and warm most of the time!

People are so fucked up. Just so, so twisted. They don’t want the semis, the trains, the planes, but they have no problem with these stereos and all the barking. I just don’t get how so many people can be so damn backward like that! That’s like saying, “Someone can rip me off for $100, but God help them if they rip me for $10.”

Last night I read without my glasses! It was blurry, but I managed.

OLS has been disappointing lately. Sweeps are being submitted like crazy with extreme rules and restrictions and all kinds of requirements. $30 a year may not be much to pay, but it really stinks when you’re finding more and more that you don’t qualify for half the sweeps submitted each day. So many sweeps lately want you to submit this, download this, upload that, do this, do that, and it’s getting very frustrating. I don’t think those who are running the site aim to please their members, though. Not after the way they’ve treated me in the past. I really don’t think they care if they lose a few members here and there. Still, it’s really getting old to find that so many entries require such hard work if I even qualify for them in the first place. Whatever happened to the good old days when simple ‘fill and submit’ forms were the norm without so much age discrimination and other requirements attached? Today, more than half the sweeps are for parents (like they’d have time to sweep with kids?), teenagers, babies, business owners, teachers, or you have to submit tips, reviews, recipes, videos, photos, take long surveys, search for whatever, write an essay, answer this, answer that – arrrrgggghhhh! It’s just so frustrating! This doesn’t mean I don’t still love OLS, but enough is enough already! Over 150 sweeps were submitted yesterday and I didn’t qualify for about 50 of them. Another 50 or so was just too much work. I hope they’ll consider making some of the changes I’ve suggested to them, but I won’t count on it. Again, I really don’t think they care. Instead of their attitude being “What can we do to please our members?” it’s “Ignore the sweeps you don’t want or leave OLS.” They haven’t come out and actually said this to me, but they may as well have since ignoring my complaint is pretty much saying just that.

MONDAY, MAY 14, 2007 Now that I’ve managed to block out the city’s desperate with earplugs, I’m being woken up by strange nightmares. I’ve had all kinds of bizarre dreams lately. I was about to be executed in one for God knows what. In another, I was being stalked by some unseen force. In yet another, I was stranded somewhere.

Just like with all other diets I’ve tried since I was 37, the tomato diet is a bust. It brought me down 5 or 6 pounds, but it doesn’t look like I’ll lose any more without cutting down even more and I’d never be able to take the hunger. The weight’s got to be starved off, so I’ll just wait till I can get a hold of the Claritin as I originally planned. Then God can have it turned into a prescription drug down there too, and I can gain all the weight back and then some! But I’ll never get back into the 120s at the rate I’m going. If it were possible to lose weight at 1300-1500 calories at this age, then I could. It would be a slow process, but a possible one. Now I could only lose on 800-1000 and if I could stand that then I could stand to starve.

At least I’m now up to 57,060 points! I hit 5,000 two nights in a row.

I could also read the fine print on our calendar for the first time ever! It’s been over a week since I’ve worn my glasses, though I still need them for ultra-fine print and for book-reading. I’ll never get my eyes like they were 15 years ago, but they sure have improved.

Jessie said she hasn’t been online much lately because they’re looking for a new place to live. Her landlady is an ex-coworker who thinks she’ll put up with all kinds of stuff just because they know each other, she says.

I said why not join us in Sacramento? They need accountants there, too. Now would be a good time to relocate; before her daughter’s old enough to establish friendships she’d have to break. I added that she won’t find a house in the west without all kinds of barking, but she must not mind noise since she’s had two kids.

But most people don’t have the guts to move that far from home, and she may have too many close connections that’d be too hard to break, whereas I didn’t have a loving family or a job holding me back. It’s probably best that she stays put anyway since I wouldn’t want to deal with a 4-year-old in the picture as destructive as they are. Jessie’s not the type to discipline a kid all that much because she’s more easygoing. She’d just laugh it off when the kid broke something, whereas someone like Doe would become utterly furious.

FRIDAY, MAY 11, 2007 We’re just now winding down from what’s been an obnoxious afternoon with the usual mix of music, barking and her next door. This is a rather odd time for her to be coming and going, too. She’s obviously not working tonight, so hopefully she won’t come and go too often. Although the stereos haven’t been the every few minutes they were last summer, they’re still often enough, every 15 minutes or so. Of course just once a day is too much for me! But they’ll be a fact of life every day of our lives since no one cares enough to do anything about the problem. We’re aiming for 3 things when we move. I don’t know if God will let us, but we want to try to get into a house that’s not on a shared lot of any kind like this one is. We want a place without a lease. And we want a place on a quieter street. Sure all it takes is one bad neighbor, but without being locked into a lease, we can run anytime we want. I don’t know if we could hide, but we could at least run. We’re thinking we’re going to leave closer to our anniversary, making it exactly 3 years spent in Oregon. He’s been working overtime, so that brings in $500 a week rather than $400. If the overtime stops, then we may bail out sooner. Even if we don’t get that check cashed, we should be going out with a lot more money than we came in with, plus there’ll be the Unemployment we didn’t have before.

They were mowing next door. I doubt we’ll be able to finish out our last 35 days or so here without new neighbors over there, but I can still hope.

Because we know what it’s like to be hungry and that not all hungry people are lazy or on drugs, we’re contributing to the food drive this year. We’re donating 3 cans of tuna, 3 boxes of mac & cheese and 3 cans of soup. The only ones I’d never support are third-world countries. Here, you can be financially set, have kids, then go broke due to situations beyond your control, but poverty is an everyday fact of life for everyone in third-world countries. Therefore, I think it is just so wrong to have babies you know damn well you can’t afford, then expect other countries to foot the bill for you. It’s so unfair and cruel to the child to go bringing it into such horrible living conditions. A whole lot of birth control is what people should donate to them, not money! Third-worlders also tend to be very prejudiced. They’re just a bunch of whiny little bigots stuck in the gimme-gimme-gimme mode, without a care in the world for others.

WEDNESDAY, MAY 9, 2007 Tom may’ve been the one to screw up this week’s money (he forgot to factor in the radio and movie download fees), but it’s moments like this that keep my hatred toward God in full swing. It’s only a week of struggling, and we both want to cut back anyway, but here we are at 41 and almost 50 playing the poor bum game yet again. God’s little bums. Always His little underdogs, His black sheep of our families. Our pitiful, non-deserving families. We should’ve had a kid and abused or abandoned it. Then maybe we could live where we want in peace and always have a nice big fat cushion to count on and then some! We’re just glad we didn’t do eBay last weekend or else we’d be starving all week, and that wouldn’t be the least bit easy without Claritin. At first I had been against delaying eBay which Tom wanted to do to keep our cushion before he knew we’d lose it altogether, saying that we’ve got to get used to being broke all over again. You know God’s going to hold us down another year or two, maybe longer. For now, we gotta go semi-hungry because our wonderful government just had to have half a grand of his hard-earned money for all the wrong reasons.

Tom’s going to call them next week since we can’t always trust what people tell us, but a coworker of his gave him the name of a check cashing place that will cash checks if they’re allowed to keep the money till the check clears. Maybe we are meant to have that $2500 after all, but I don’t want to get my hopes up just yet. When we go we’re going to go to the Chinese place one last time.

Meanwhile, we probably are going to take the truck and sell 8 different items on eBay this weekend.

It’s going to be hard to not give up trying to get my disability reinstated. When has God ever allowed anything just for me? And He knows it wouldn’t be just a few extra bucks a month, but a few extra hundred bucks a month.

I’ve still been neglecting my story, but I’ve swept, I’ve watched movies, and I’ve climbed just over 40,000 points on Netwinner. I’ve had some small wins lately, but nothing worth noting here.

The weather’s been warm. We haven’t needed heat for a few days now. We even had some surprising thunderstorms tonight and last night.

MONDAY, MAY 7, 2007 It’s a gorgeous day out there today and the city’s assholes are doing all they can to ruin it and spoil the peace. And it’s not even 1:00 yet! Between 2:30-8:30, it’ll be at its worst. I wish some people would start shooting some of these assholes! Maybe that’d scare them into shutting up. Then again, these are the kinds of people that don’t take their lives very seriously to begin with. Meaning, just like with the freeloaders, they’d be very happy to die for their little attention cause, their sole purpose for living as far as they’re concerned. France has made it illegal to sell anything over a certain volume. I don’t agree with their limiting volumes in headphones, but speakers should be limited everywhere. Tom did some research and found that some towns are taking steps towards curbing the problem, but not surprisingly, they’re mostly eastern towns, particularly Florida where it’s touristy. There you can’t play stereos loud enough to be heard 50’ past your car or they’ll take your speakers if they catch you. Sadly, we’re still many years away, if ever, from achieving overall peace from these things or from people leaving their dogs out to bark up a storm.

At least there’s some good news. My doll’s on its way, and Tom found my sleeping disorder online! He came in while I was watching a movie to tell me that he found it by accident and that it’s even got a name. I forgot what it is, but this is no article written by an individual, it’s a diagnosed and documented problem in a medical journal! Tom said that when he read it, it sure sounded like me where a person’s schedule jumps forward an hour or so each day and that they have no inner clock to set, etc. He read the article to me, and not surprisingly, there is no cure, but it does suggest some things I’ve already done to help for when I have appointments or something to do that requires me to be on days, like taking melatonin and B12 supplements.

So then we got to thinking and discussing some ideas. We’ve decided we’re going to go to a sleep clinic down in Sacramento. Surely they’ll have one there while Klamath Falls has probably never even heard of any such thing. We’re going to see if we can get them to diagnose me, then get my disability benefits back. When they kicked me off in ’94 I was elated because all I could think at the time was wow, what a major accomplishment. Not there goes some extra money we could really use. But I’m older now and don’t care what people think. You know that in the past I’d put up with someone telling me gays were sinners, evil, ought to be killed, etc. Today I’d just dump them in a heartbeat. So I don’t care what stigmas go with being on disability. The bottom line is that I truly am disabled and have been all along and we could use the extra money. You know it burns me up to see people getting free money simply for being black or Mexican, while I sit here, truly unable to work outside of the house, and no one gives me shit.

What would be really exciting, though I’m trying not to get my hopes up, would be to not only get back on my benefits, which I estimate would be around $600 a month these days but to get back payments as well. Back when they cut me off when I was 18 simply because I was 18, and when my father got me back on a few years later, I received 6 grand. The question is what exactly is the reason I was put on disability in the first place? The sleep disorder was kept in check as a kid because I had something to motivate me that I don’t have now - a bitch of a mother who’d have gladly torn me apart limb by limb if I didn’t get up and get my ass to school, followed by an equally abusive system who’d have done similar. Even so, falling asleep and waking up in the mornings as a kid was always a hardship for me. But when it comes from the mouths of Doe and Art O, it’s hit or miss as to whether or not it’s the truth, so I don’t know the exact story behind the benefits. I’ve heard it’s because of his bad heart, because of my ear, because I was crazy. But as Tom said, either of these would tie into the sleep disorder. They’re all kind of intertwined.

There have been times I thought of bringing it up to a doctor but was afraid I’d get, “You’re just being lazy. You’re spoiled, you’re stubborn. You’ve simply gotten yourself into a bad habit. Just set your alarm clock and get up when it goes off.”

All you really hear about is those with insomnia, but never this. I still don’t think many people are aware of this, but it’s nice to know that I’m not all alone in this situation as I thought I was. It’s the common things people focus more on. Like when a guy can’t rise to the occasion, versus those who can get hard, but not off like Tom. Whether or not part of his problem is age, I really thought he was doing this deliberately for fear of impregnating me, and so many years ago I told him, hey, 80% of the male population doesn’t want kids, so if that’s it, just tell me. But I always thought he was afraid to admit it for fear of me either leaving him or attacking him, till a therapist showed me some literature on it and I read about another case online. They too, could only get off once in a while. And we think this is only a woman’s problem! Besides, the more I got to know Tom, the more I could see he was not your typical male. I wouldn’t have married him if he was. Trust me, he’s not the kind to run from a kid, unwanted or not. He’s the responsible type. He is my one blessing amongst many curses in life. If it wasn’t for his accepting me as I am and supporting me all these years, there’s no way I could’ve survived.

Anyway, I’m truly not alone! Tom said there’s this guy at work whose mom has this problem. How she raised a kid with it is beyond me. This was one of the many reasons I decided having a kid wasn’t a good idea. I just didn’t see how I could be there for it half the time.

As I said, I’m trying not to get too psyched up, but if I could get back payments, that wouldn’t make us rich, but after all these years it could very well buy us a house where we want! I still don’t think God would be that nice to us, or that they’d fail to point out that I never appealed the decision to terminate my benefits in ’94 in the first place. I could argue that I wasn’t as enlightened as I am today and that I didn’t think I stood a chance of proving my case and fighting it, but I don’t know how far that’d get me.

Later…

Glinda arrived. She’s your typical Tonner doll – very nice.

Kim left 10 minutes ago playing her favorite song, though not too loud.

I thought today would be a madhouse since it was nearly 80º, and while it was annoying, it didn’t end up too bad.

Tom said that we could also argue that I was under the care of their doctors, yet they failed to diagnose me back then. Whatever happens is going to take years, and I just fear that it’s yet another tease from God. Is He going to watch me run around like crazy trying to get what’s rightfully mine just to see me fail in the end? I’m 41 years old and I have yet to see Him compensate me for anything or anyone He’s cursed me with.

Tom told his boss we plan to leave and asked how much time would be appropriate before he quit. The boss said to give her a few days to see if she can come up with a replacement and she’d let him know then, but to feel free to leave if this takes too long.

Oh, we will. No doubt about that! I’m glad they didn’t try to bribe him into staying with big bucks. We want money, but we don’t want to be miserable either. He really hates that place. We’re not sure how much notice we’re going to give the rental company. We don’t want to cut it too close and ruin our chances of them being a good reference for us if we need it, but we don’t want to give them enough time to pester me with show-and-tell. Tom can talk to them about that and see what can be worked out.

The ball has begun to roll! This is it, the beginning of the end of Oregon. The beginning of pulling our lifelines from this damn state one by one! I just don’t know if we’ll make it out by the 1st. It may be closer to our anniversary.

SUNDAY, MAY 6, 2007 Kim apparently worked last night and came in playing her favorite song this morning. She should be hitting Dreamland right about now.

Tom’s checked jobs and found that many of them start off at $10 in Sacramento, and without having to pay for insurance like he does here, it would almost be like making the same amount he makes here. The only difference will be that I’ll be insured too, and the rents will be higher. I would be ok with it if we could find a dump similar to this one that wasn’t by a canal, was level, and had space indoors for at least a small stackable washer/dryer. A dishwasher would be nice too, but it’s not that big a deal. If the dump was a little bigger it’d be worth it than spending more money on a nicer place. Since we can never have our cake and eat it too, I’d rather live in a dumpier place and have extra money, than put it all in a nicer place.

Food and gas are more expensive here, too. Veggies should be cheaper down there being in farm country. Yeah, all that farmland, yet never a farm for us to live on! (which I’d still kill for if we can’t live on a houseboat) That’s about as bad as being in the middle of a grocery store starving and broke.

The reason I’m glad veggies will be cheaper there is that while I don’t want to get my hopes up just yet, I think I may’ve finally, after a decade, found the magic combination diet-wise. About a week ago I got an idea for a tomato diet. The only problem is that these grape-sized tomatoes I love so much and that are way low-cal are $4 a container. I’m trying to mix in carrots and apples, though I don’t like carrots. They’re better than celery and citrus, though. A bushel of carrots and a couple of apples are half the cost of grape tomatoes. Anyway, I have a sandwich after being up a few hours, a TV dinner or something like that 6 hours later, then I munch on a container of tomatoes all throughout my day and it seems to be helping so far, but I just got over my period. It could very well be just water I’ve lost.

SATURDAY, MAY 5, 2007 I’ve been so into Netwinner that I’ve been totally neglecting my story. Oh well.

We’re going to sell stuff on eBay next weekend. Unfortunately, eBay’s not like it used to be. It’s more expensive and things don’t get as many bids anymore due to all the eBay stores there are today. We’re not going to put the 8 Barbies up that I don’t want. They’d be better off at yard sales. I offered them to Jessie for her daughter, and she said that’s really sweet of me, but the kid has enough toys. We’re going to be putting up things like the diamond, the autographed guitar, action figures, the shoes that don’t fit the mannequins, a board game, and a few other things.

I’ve been watching what I eat in hopes of keeping out of the 140s until I can get my hands on that Claritin. But “watching what I eat” and “cutting back” only keeps me where I’m at which is 135. Better than to gain more. I still wish I could just puke up what I eat since I can’t starve. I don’t think it’d be as gross as when you get sick. It’s nausea that’s the worst thing and that wouldn’t be the case if I could simply stick my finger down my throat and puke.

It’ll be interesting to see what Tom’s boss says when he tells them on Monday that he’s leaving in June. I say that if they’re not going to offer a partnership or $20 an hour, nothing’s worth staying here for.

He may see if he can get someone at work he trusts to cash that $2500 check I still don’t think we’re meant to have. I wish I could be invisible and mingle with his coworkers. I’m really good at sensing who’s trustworthy and who’s not. Since people don’t do things for nothing, we’ll offer them some money for doing it, and we’ll pay the $6 fee if it doesn’t go through. If we don’t go through one of his coworkers, we’ll contact the check cashing place and see if they’d be willing to hang onto it until it clears. We could still try to cash it in California. It’s just that the check matches this address while I have an Oregon ID.

I’m still both nervous and excited about the move. I don’t know what would shock me more – to end up in a place that’s not attached to someone else’s, or for him to start off higher than $8 an hour.

In neighborhood news, next door’s vacant again. Even apartments don’t turn over this often! Tom thinks it’s cuz the place is too expensive. I’m glad we’ll be outa here next month because this is a hell of a time to get new neighbors in a 3-bedroom house! Tom’s not sure we’ll get new neighbors before we leave, but I think we will. It only took a month or two last time around and that was in the dead of winter.

Not much from Kim. She sometimes still comes and goes with music. She must have a favorite song she plays over and over because it’s always the same beat I hear.

THURSDAY, MAY 3, 2007 I can’t sweep yet since OLS is down. This is the second time in the last few days they’ve been down in the morning. I hope they don’t make a regular habit of it.

It’s cold again and I’m back in my robe and socks, heat blaring. I know I’m just going to have to listen to all kinds of shit every day down there in Cali, but I almost wish it would stay cold and rainy to keep things quieter until we leave and to keep the bugs out. It has no effect on the barking, but it curbs the stereos, and those are certainly worse than the dogs. However, it’s to be back in the 60s and 70s in a couple of days. From there on out, I doubt we’ll have any more days under 60º before we leave. It figures, too, that by the time I’m back on nights, it’ll be noisy as hell in the daytime. I’ll just have to remember to add the earplug to the sound of the air cleaner.

We’ve decided to go ahead and sell stuff on eBay, but haven’t yet decided exactly what we’re gonna sell. Tom’s still researching what things are going for. He’s going to set the prices and launch the sales this weekend, and I’m going to do the photoshoots and write-ups.

We’re going to be broke for the next week because Tom thought we’d break even tax-wise, but was wrong. We ended up owing a total of $500. What’s the point of making so much money if we’re just going to have to give so much of it away? And to people and causes that don’t even pertain to us! We’re paying for schools we have no animals going to, for hospitals we don’t use, for roads we don’t drive on, for lazy freeloaders to sit on their asses, etc. Is God just trying to give us a little taste of what we’re in for once we move? Well, if He is, He’s wasting His time. A thousand years of money couldn’t make me forget what it’s like to struggle!

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grandhotelabyss · 11 months ago

Note

I. A wonderful piece of music that I think pairs well with Shelley's poetry is Terry Riley's 'The Harp of New Albion'. It's a solo piano piece, improvised within a set structure, that is inspired by one particular myth of the aeolian harp. I bring this up not just for the aeolian harp connection, but because it seems to me that this partly-improvised piano piece, where some tricky maths is used to make the keyboard less familiar and more intuitive, is a wonderful instance of romanticism's odd relationship to science and intuition.

Instead of the twelve evenly-spaced notes that most Europe-derived music uses, Riley tunes his piano in such a way that the twelve pitches are uneven — some notes are very closely spaced, others widely far apart. Because of this, you can't really play familiar songs in such a system, but you have access to combinations of notes that are quite literally impossible on a regular piano. This 'just intonation' tuning, however, is based on some simple principles of acoustics (which I won't go into, for fear of bringing math into a literary space). Thus, it is in one way purer and immediate (acoustically-derived), in another way more intellectual (takes a lot of intellectual preparation), than what we're used to. Much like romanticism itself!

II. 'The Harp of New Albion' comes from what is sometimes called the American 'maverick' tradition in classical music, which continues directly on from the American transcendentalists — starting with Charles Ives' Concord sonata, with its movements named after Emerson, Thoreau, Hawthorne, and the Alcotts, and often referring back to it throughout its history. Kyle Gann in particular (who I think of as, in some ways, doing what you do as a critic but for this area of the artistic cosmos) has named and/or dedicated a number of pieces after Emersonian and Thoreau-ian sayings and themes.

In fact, I would call the American maverick tradition (a deliberate contradiction on my part) one of the most direct inheritors of romanticism proper — not, to be clear, the academic-classical scene (popularly called 'uptown') but the experimental line that goes from Ives through Partch, Cowell, Johnston, and Nancarrow; on to Young, Ashley, Monk, Feldman, Cage, and others in the 50s-60s explosion of beat and hippy culture; on to the minimalists of the 70s and 80s, who reclaimed beauty and simplicity in a very Romantic way — most notably Reich, Glass, and (bringing us full circle) Terry Riley himself.

III. This leads me to my actual question: As you've probably discerned by now, I'm a musician, and I wanted to know how you would feel about the term 'Romantic Realism' being used as a self-descriptor by artists in other media?

Particularly if they (i.e. I) used it, as I think you do, to indicate both a kind of faith in a tradition, or at least engagement with historical precedent; and the fusion of seeming opposites (the romantic and the realist). To rewrite a paragraph of yours, "My music aims for an aesthetic synthesis most musicians seem to have abandoned, a now-rare combination of elements long since precipitated out into divergent marketing categories, however their spiritual union was taken for granted by modern artists from Palestrina and Beethoven to The Beatles and Hendrix: harmonic invention, textural stylishness, unique melodies, architectural form, lyrical provocation, and emotional rapture—all this plus a fearless raid on as much of the present as I can manage in a musical period timidly focused on the mere self, the vanished past, or hollow fantasy." This does not exactly describe what I do, but it's something with which I would like to align myself.

(forgive the mini-essay, but it flowed out of me as more or less a single thought. I've oversimplified a lot, & I hope if nothing else it provides some interesting insight into the role, or a role, that music might play in our ongoing cultural shift)

Thank you, that was fascinating, and I'm listening to the Riley piece now. (Trivia: haven't listened to him since the eighth grade, when a rather progressive music teacher, "progressive" relative to the Catholic school I attended, put him on for us. I knew his name because he was cited as one of Adrian Veidt's favorite musicians in one of the fictional chapter endpapers of Watchmen!) While I have some familiarity with some of the musicians you mention and knew about Ives's relation to American Romanticism, I wasn't aware of this tradition as a tradition and will explore further.

I'm happy to see "Romantic Realism" get picked up by other artists. I will be interested to see what people who work in other media and forms do with the "realist" part. I know what I mean by "realism" as applied to narrative or dramatic fiction (i.e., contemporary in subject matter) and to painting or illustration (i.e., figurative), but not so much what it would mean for music. A quick search suggests musical realism focuses on "authentic emotion" and "life scenarios," but I wonder if adopting the Platonic meaning of the term wouldn't be the more powerful move for a musician, speaking of Emerson:

For poetry was all written before time was, and whenever we are so finely organized that we can penetrate into that region where the air is music, we hear those primal warblings, and attempt to write them down, but we lose ever and anon a word, or a verse, and substitute something of our own, and thus miswrite the poem.

#music #terry riley #romantic realism #romanticism

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rolandrockover · 1 year ago

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One of the Riffings

Since I'm one of those people who Kiss passed by in the second half of the 80s, I only heard Smashes, Thrashes & Hits after my personal Kiss Renaissance in 1992 for the first time (1).

Eager to discover and soak up everything I missed from 80's Kiss, I saw this CD as a not a bad investment for the first step in my very best intentions, of course. And with the songs given to me, such as Heaven's on Fire or Tears are Falling, I found myself in the best of sonic company. And somehow also with (You make me) Rock Hard. And there we have that darn word again: Somehow. Oh well.

So today I decided to do this little incorrigible part of me a favor and give a few words about this song to the best. What sticks out in my mind then and now is the opening riff, which mainly creeps through the verses. Is it just me, or does it sound like Love Gun? It can't be that I have only imagined it for over 30 years? Not that I've been listening to (You Make Me) Rock Hard for 30 years, no, no, I just can't help thinking that its little riff must have fallen out of Love Gun at some point, or broken out of it, and I can't remember exactly where to put it back in. The best place to put it would be in Love Gun's main riff, after the machine gun salvo, right? Best to the refrain under the vocals. That would be like adding a screw to an engine, which would never have been missing in the end, but hey, let's just leave it at that, because I will probably never approach this matter more extensively (2) .

We should get to the more interesting part of this writing anyway, namely the popular game in Kiss: "Take something completely different and make it sound like Kiss". And what could be more fitting than One of the Living by Tina Turner, written by none other than Holly Knight. I mean, Paul probably knew her best of all participants (3), if I may say so, which for me is the prerequisite that this graceful piece of pop music should not have escaped him as a songwriter, neither in any other way. And thus we would have now at least two good reasons to like Rock Hard. And all this without the jokes, which I originally intended to crack in leaning on the its title and Paul's genitals.

Side Notes:

(1) I've been a fan of this band since 1980, but I've largely neglected this fact for long stretches of the unmasked period since ca. '84, apart from a few rather irregular but nonetheless intense exceptions. It wasn't until Revenge that I got completely back on track.

(2) Wrong.

(3) Namely Dianne Warren and, of course, the usual suspect, Desmond Child.

Here we have them all, Love Gun and its soft-spoken offshoot (You Make Me) Rock Hard, as well as Tina Turner's terrific One of the Living in the even more terrific Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome opening credits version. My best regards at this point to Holly Knight. Somebody tell Trent Reznor that this woman wants to make music with him. Just press the play buttons, people, but not all at once please:

(You Make Me) Rock Hard (1988)

youtube

Love Gun (1977)

youtube

One of the Living (1985)

youtube

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xanzusx · 2 years ago

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Thanks for the tag! @carrionthird 💕

Rules: you can usually tell a lot about a person by the type of music they listen to. put your playlist on shuffle and list the first 10 songs, and then tag 10 people. no skipping!

Te quiero ver- Natalia Lafourcade

Haunted by the thought of you- Jill Tracy

The Seed- AURORA

Pixel affection- Yeule

Six feet apart- Alec Benjamin

Dueles- Jesse & Joy

Angelitos Negros- Pedro Infante

Easier- The Crane Wives

Bouket-Ichiko Aoba

He hit me (and it felt like a kiss) -Nicolle Dollanganger

@laecandraw @cup-of-wine-glass-of-tea @chamoy-with-mango03 @annzy-bananzys-corner @phoena12 @berserk-ir @rye-in-a-coat @tiny-idiot-in-a-tinier-bucket

#interesting mix #what does this say apart from the fact that 80% of these songs make me cry LMFAO???#tagging

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iguana-braces · 3 years ago

Text

Enigmatic (Rooster x Reader) 18+

Gods forgive me as this is my first time writing narrative smut in…. a long time. -- Masterlist

Description: You and Roosters firsts; first meeting, first kiss/first time ;) (f!reader, porn with the barest hint of plot, the La Croix of plot)

Warnings: Explicit 18+ content, oral sex (m! and f! receiving), vaginal sex, mentions of alcohol, explicit language

Word Count: 2k

Note: Shout out to imaginesbyhaley and ceasersaladslut for informing me Rooster drives a Bronco!! Updated to reflect this crucial information.

MINORS DNI, 18+

Walking in like he owned the place, with a Hawaiian shirt, aviators, and that mustache… It might’ve been the fact that you were on your third vodka soda, but you just had to know who this joker was.

Sidling up to him as he ordered at the bar, you remarked, “Hey, I think the 80’s called, they want their aesthetic back.”

“Ha-ha, that's hilarious,” he replied with a wry laugh. “But it was funnier the first four hundred times I heard it.”

“Damn. Well, it certainly does work for you.” The 80’s had contributed a lot of positive things to society; great music, pretty good movies, neon. And while this specific look hadn’t previously been among that list for you, this random bar stranger was changing that. Perhaps it was because his thin, low-cut tank top did little to hide his surprisingly muscular and tanned chest.

The man turned towards you, looked you up and down, then smiled, apparently pleased with what he saw. “Is it working for you?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw your best friend, who’d been watching this interaction from down the bar, snort over their drink. You almost didn’t know what to say at this sudden change of direction. Well, maybe it wasn’t so sudden, you hadn’t been very discreet about ogling his pecs.

“I… decline to answer that.”

But it did work on you, well enough for you to allow him to drive you and your friend home after your night out. This random guy’s Jeep was far cheaper than an Uber, which negated the equal amount of risk of getting into a stranger's car.

After dropping your friend off first, he parked in front of your apartment. Pretending to fumble with your seat-belt, you waited for him to make the first move, but he remained quiet. Shit.

“By the way, the answer is yes,” you started.

“Hm?”

“You asked if this look was working for me. It is.”

He smiled and nodded. “...I’ll keep that in mind. Have a good rest of your night.”

You couldn’t hide the shock on your face. “That’s it?”

“Well, you gotta leave ‘em wanting more.” And by god, did you want more. But apparently he was set on being a gentleman, not one to give it up on the first night. “I'll see you around, hopefully.”

You did see him around, sporadically, and which was when you finally learned his name was Bradley Bradshaw. Brad².

“Yeah, my parents were real funny people,” he had noted in response to your snicker. That was another clue you picked up on, his use of past tense when referring to his parents, but you’d let that remain a story for another time. You also learned he was a fighter pilot with a penchant for impromptu karaoke and a voice like butter. All of this was adding up to paint a picture of a strange but insanely intriguing man.

You wanted to know everything about him, where he was coming from, where he was planning on going next. The two of you ended up spending many a night talking on the beach until the sun started to rise.

But the most recent thing you learned about him was revealed during a rousing rendition of Lady Gaga’s “You and I”. When he wasn’t looking at the piano keys, Brad was looking directly at you over the frame of his lowered aviators, like he was… singing to you? Was this song supposed to be about you and him? You had to look away, hiding your face in your hands as you blushed furiously.

After the way he shot you down on that first night, you’d come to accept that talking would be all the two of you would do. But apparently this had just been one hell of a slow burn. Two could play at that game.

After his performance, you slung your purse over your shoulder as he approached you at the bar.

“I think I’m gonna call it a night.”

“This early?”

“Yeah, I have to get up early tomorrow. Could I get a ride?”

“So… Lady Gaga,” you commented

“Hey, it’s a good bar song. People can clap along, sing along.”

“And that’s the only reason you chose it?”

“Well… it’s not the only reason.”

He didn’t elaborate further, only smiling. Trying to get a straight answer out of Bradley in regards to his feelings about anything was like pulling teeth. But at the same time, you weren’t about to spill your guts to him first. He hit on you first, then shot you down. Then he serenaded you and now… silence. When he pulled up in front of your apartment this time, your seatbelt gave you no trouble.

"Well, thanks for the ride." You didn’t wait for a response before you climbed out of the car.

“That’s it?” he called after you. You rolled your eyes, walking around to the driver’s side, leaning on his open window.

“I don’t know, is it? Are you ready for 'more', Lieutenant Bradshaw?”

“Yeah, I am.”

“Well, then the night is still young.”

The second your apartment door closed, you walked him back towards the wall and kissed him. He tasted like beer and the mint gum he’d been chewing in the car. At least one of you had planned ahead for this. Was this his game all along, draw things out and then strike when you least expect it?

You couldn’t let your mind be clouded with thoughts like that as you slipped your hand under his shirt, running it over his skin to his muscular back.

Barely breaking the kiss, he pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it to the side, his sunglasses clattering to the floor somewhere.

"I gotta use the bathroom first."

"Good idea."

Quickly, you did your best five-minute shave job and freshened up. By the time you returned to the bedroom, Bradley was sprawled across your bed on his back, looking at the pictures and artwork on the walls. Trying your absolute hardest to look sexy, you crawled up between his legs, drawing his attention. As you unbuttoned his shorts, he lifted himself so you could remove them, along with his underwear. He wasn’t fully hard, probably because you spent a little too long in the bathroom, but you could tell this would be a satisfying night.

"Like what you see?"

"I'm just glad it's not a full-on 80's bush."

"You're welcome," he laughed.

Dicks had a very standard manual of operation. You suck the tip, lick it, stroke the shaft, don’t neglect the balls. The guy will usually say if they want it harder, slower, softer, faster. And of course, there’s one thing they all seem to love. Slowly, you worked down the length of his dick, taking as much of it into your mouth as possible, which was almost all of it. As your nose brushed against his pelvis, Bradley’s head fell back and he sighed into an, "Ohh, fuck."

Encouraged by his reaction, you pulled back for a quick breath, then quickly deepthroated him again, and again, eventually getting into a rhythm. His hand gently pressed against the back of your head as his breathing became deeper, deep "Mmh"s rumbling from his throat. When your jaw started to hurt, you returned to what you’d been doing at the beginning, aided by nature’s alternative lubricator: saliva.

"Stopstopstopstop,” Brad gasped after a few more minutes, gently pushing your head back. “Oh, fuck."

"What, too much?"

He didn’t respond for a minute, staring up at the ceiling as his breathing slowed. Finally he sat up. "Well, I don't wanna finish before we even start. Your turn, up here,” he stated, patting the bed next to him.

"I have a better idea, lay down again."

It had been all you could think about while you were blowing him. The way his mouth hung open as he sighed and quietly swore, watching what you were doing. You knew exactly how he’d repay the favor. As soon as his back hit the bed, you swung your leg over him, straddling his face.

“Oh. Got it.”

"Gotta put that porn-stache into action."

Bradley chuckled. “You know what? I’ll take that. Lieutenant Porn-stache, reporting for duty. And it looks like it’ll be a smooth ride today,” he said, running two fingers through your already slicked folds.

After whispering a silent prayer of please let him be good at this, you let him pull you down to his mouth, which began licking stripes over and around your clit. Every once in a while, he’d stop to gently suck on it, his tongue flicking over the bud repeatedly in the most obscene fashion, like he was drinking the god’s nectar. One of his hands ran up your leg, grabbing at your ass as you grinded against his tongue.

The visual of him between your legs was just as hot as you’d imagined it to be but suddenly, you wished you had been lying down for this as you struggled to stay upright, leaning forward against the wall for support.

As the pleasure became more intense, you instinctively tensed, almost pulling away, but Bradley firmly held you in place as your orgasm hit. Crying out, you were practically whimpering as the man below you did not let up as wave after wave washed over you.

As you fought to regain rational thinking, you barely noticed him lift you just enough to slip out from under you. Only when he returned from the bathroom, drying off his face with a towel, were you able to acknowledge him again.

“Did you have a nice ride?”

“Oh, it was just lovely.”

“Glad you enjoyed it.” He kissed you again, although now his mouth tasted overwhelmingly like you. “Ready for one more?”

He laid down next to you again and you realized his intention. “But I was just on top!”

“And maybe that’s where I like you to be,” he coaxed, grinning at you.

Looking into his dark eyes, you knew this argument was a lost cause because he looked so damn cute when he smiled like that, how could you say no? And again, your mind was getting ahead of itself, picturing what was about to happen. And it wasn’t a bad picture at all.

But your legs still felt shaky as you spread them, again straddling him, this time positioning yourself above his erection. Your hands resting on his broad chest, you slowly lowered yourself onto him, feeling his cock fill you up.

Stutteringly, you began to ride him, attempting to gyrate like those pornstars do and clearly struggling. But Brad didn’t seem to mind, in fact, he helped. Gripping your hips, his hands guided your movements as he thrust upward against you. It was slow going, but the two of you were able to find your own rhythm and steadily picked up the pace.

Soon, your own libido took over, urging you to ride him harder and faster and it no longer mattered if you looked like a pornstar because the way you were moving certainly made you moan like one. Briefly looking down, you saw Bradley’s eyes roaming over your body, but mainly fixing on that space between your legs.

"Like what you see?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I really do," he replied, looking up into your eyes. Somehow, that felt like something more than just his lust talking. If only he would use his words, but that would be an issue for some other time. Right now you were only fixated on how good this all felt.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer."

"Where's my phone?"

Luckily, it was on the bed nearby so you didn't have to break your connection, only momentarily slowing down your movements. Holding his phone up by his face, he said, "It's on video, keep going."

You returned to your previous speed of bouncing on his dick, eliciting genuine moans from you. But you also knew you had to play up for the camera and give him something worth watching when he was gone.

"Now I know why they call you Rooster," you said loudly in your most sultry voice. "Cuz you have the best cock around."

You barely finished the sentence before bursting into laughter.

“Goddamnit.” But Bradley was laughing too, shaking his head. “That was bad.”

“Yeah, okay, Lieutenant Porn-stache. You close?”

“I can be.”

Despite your enjoyment, you could feel yourself tiring. Brad turned off his phone, which had been recording the ceiling for the last minute or so that his attention slipped, and tossed it to the side.

"You gonna take a screenshot of that, print it out? Put it in your cockpit?"

"Uh, no, because I need my blood to be going to my brain so I don't fly into a mountainside."

"Fair enough."

"But I'll get plenty of use out of it, don't you worry. Come’ere."

You leaned forward, laying down on top of him. His arms wrapped around your body, the two of you kissing as you slowly moved against each other. The night’s events briefly replayed in your mind; the song, the jokes, the way it felt to be in his arms. As frustrating and enigmatic as he was, it felt like everything was falling into place, exactly where it should be.

“Should I pull out?” he muttered against your lips.

“No, I’m on birth control.”

“You sure?”

“Mhmm.”

His hands resting on your rear kept you in place as he picked up the pace. Pleasure began to form in your core again and soon you could tell he was close too, the feverish way he drilled himself into you. His lips left wet kisses down your neck as the two of you held each other as tightly as possible, hips grinding against each other relentlessly. You let your head fall into the mattress, panting and moaning against Bradley’s shoulder. Slick sweat started to coat your skin where it met with his.

Finally, his hips slammed into yours just a few more times, hitting just the right spot as you both reached your peaks. Your gasping swears were accompanied by his stifled groans against your ear, his cock pulsing inside you as his movements slowed.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, feeling the rising and falling of each other’s chests as your breath evened out. You could’ve fallen asleep like that, resting on his shoulder, if it weren’t for the uncomfortable way your legs were pulled up under you. When you finally raised your head, you saw your lovely lieutenant had indeed fallen asleep.

“Are you serious?”

He blinked awake, turning towards you. “Did you say something?”

“What, you cum and immediately pass out?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he scoffed, “That doesn’t sound like me.”

“You don’t know what I’m talking about because you were fully unconscious.”

He shook his head, waving a dismissive hand in the air. “Nah, I don’t believe it. Fake news.”

“Fuck off.”

He was frustrating and enigmatic, but you couldn’t deny, he was exactly where he should be.

#Bradley Bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader

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musical-chick-13 · 2 years ago

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Oh, hey it's time for me to be insufferable about my favorite TV show on main again!!

So Rebecca and Paula have genuinely one of the most complicated and touching friendships in any work I have ever seen. They give each other support, hype each other up, and help each other work through their issues without judgment. That's the touching part. The complicated part is that they initially start being friends because they approve of each other's worst impulses and encourage said impulses. And that they are both so wrapped up in how dissatisfied they are with their lives that they don't always act like the best friend.

Which brings us to their Friendship Breakup. Rebecca dropped the ball on writing Paula a recommendation letter for law school because she was too focused on her own personal drama (while making some pretty callous comments about Paula's own personal drama in the meantime), and Paula had realized that their friendship was bringing out parts of her that she didn't like. Which sets the foundation for the Final Straw: Paula goes through a very major life change and doesn't tell Rebecca. Rebecca is upset that she didn't tell her, and Paula is upset that Rebecca hasn't seemed to care about Paula's life in general so she didn't see the point. Rebecca told her that she would have been willing to offer her support if Paula had just asked, but Paula says she's tired of asking and that Rebecca should take the initiative in this friendship sometimes. It's all very complex, both sides have a point, and the fact that they are fighting makes complete, organic sense.

AND THEN!!!!! They sing an 80's Rock Parody Song (heavily inspired by musical icon "Total Eclipse of the Heart") about how sad they are to be apart from each other. And how they want to be friends again SO BAD, but they're both too stubborn to be the first one to apologize. (see video)

youtube

And eventually, Paula starts having marital troubles. And Rebecca does take the initiative, and tells her she'll help with housework. She does this by giving Paula an earnest, lovely, genuine platonic declaration of love. It's very much not meant to be read as romantic, but it is given just as much weight and sincerity and importance as a romantic confession. And from this point forward, they switch into a much more equal, stable, functional friendship. The Friendship Breakup allows both of them to grow as people, and also to positively develop their relationship with each other. Their relationship really is the heart of the show (which at it's core is really about all the different ways love can exist apart from romance), and watching the fall-out from their fight is genuinely heartbreaking, while their reconciliation is genuinely moving.

AND ALSO REBECCA TELLS PAULA LATER ON THAT SHE DOESN'T HAVE TO BE THE CARETAKER IN THEIR FRIENDSHIP BECAUSE HAVING SOMEONE BE THE BIG SPOON IS GREAT, BUT SAME-SIZE SPOONS FIT TOGETHER THE BEST THIS IS LITERALLY A COMPARISON THAT SHE USES IF YOU DON'T THINK THAT'S THE CUTEST AND SWEETEST THING EVER I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO TELL YOU

Round 1B - Match 9

#also op if you don't want propaganda I am so sorry I literally just saw crazy ex-girlfriend and stopped thinking about anything else #paula proctor #rebecca bunch #crazy ex girlfriend #BroTP: same size spoons #Youtube

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scoobydoo-ghoulschool · 3 years ago

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Harringrove Week Day 1

June 24th: Song of the Day, 80's Version (I Wanna Dance With Somebody) Fic + Mood board

Chase My Blues Away (Rated Teen and Up)

Steve’s night started out simple. Really all he’d been trying to do was fulfill a favor.

Or okay- So maybe Henderson had had a last minute date for homecoming, and he was too embarrassed to have his mom drive him, and it’s not like Steve would leave him hanging like that. You save a kid from interdimensional monsters a half a dozen times, you have to take him to homecoming if he somehow manages to get a date.

So, a favor, and some insatiable curiosity about this new girl Jenny.

It was really simple when Steve thought about it like that.

If he didn’t factor in the rest of the night.

“You can’t leave,” Dustin hissed from the backseat, throwing a glance over his shoulder where Jenny was already getting out of the car. She was cute, in like a high school kind of way, with a high pony and the biggest shimmery teal dress Steve had ever seen.

“What do you mean I can’t leave, I’m not hanging around the high school parking lot dude. That’s creepy. That would make me creepy,” he insisted, because alright, he’d resigned himself to the fact one of his friends was a good 4 years younger than him. So what? No big deal.

But being two years out of high school meant hanging out in a school parking lot was a total no go.

“What if it’s lame! What if the dance is so bad we have to leave immediately? And then I think there’s like an after party and if I get invited I have to be able to go. I need this,” Dustin pleaded, before turning to send a reassuring smile in his confused date's direction.

Steve looked back at him hard. He would not break. Not this time. He had Top Gun on tape back at his apartment, with an unpopped bag of popcorn, and an entire glistening package of Twizzlers. He was going to enjoy himself, alone, at home. He was not-

“Alright, so I’ll see you in a bit. Thanks Steve!” Dustin thanked him quickly before sliding out of the back seat. It was as the door slammed that Steve realized what exactly he’d done.

“Every time. How does he do it every time?” Steve marveled, half impressed and half ready to roll down the window and tell Jenny about a funny little song from the Never Ending Story.

Instead, he went and parked his car.

He reclined the seat with a sigh, and tried not to think about how his lower back had been acting up. He was 20, he was fine, really, he just needed to pop it right once and then-

He heard the roar of the engine before he saw the Camaro pull up. The rumble of it sat low in his stomach, causing an instant reaction as he sat up in the reclined seat.

He could see Max Mayfield halfway out of the passenger door already, before the car had even had a chance to stop. She’d gone for something more casual than Jenny, in a shorter, less puffy bright blue dress. It looked nice.

As the car came to a screeching halt, she shouted something, before slamming the door shut. She hadn’t got a half step away, when the window rolled down, and she stopped to turn back to it. There was a pause as the driver spoke.

In an instant her demeanor softened, as she leaned back over to the window to reply. For a moment Steve’s vision was obscured, and he watched the tinted windows of the Camaro thoughtfully. After a moment, Max stepped away with a nod and an eye roll, and gave a slightly enthusiastic wave goodbye. Which was saying something for Max.

At one point Steve would have been a little freaked by an emotional turnaround like that. But he’d seen Nancy and Mike go from being at each other's throats one second to, exchanging tearful ‘I love you’s’ the next. Not to mention Robin and her three younger brothers. It was just a sibling thing. You kind of had to have one to get it.

He understood enough now to know that whatever Max and Billy had going on, it was okay.

Steve was just about ready to lay himself back down, when he noticed something odd. The Camaro wasn’t pulling out of the parking lot. It instead idled for a while, before smoothly rolling itself further out to an open space, settling into a spot just down the aisle from Steve.

He blinked. Turned back to the wheel of his car, and tried to think.

He hadn’t spoken to Billy Hargrove since... Oh God, it couldn’t have been Christmas? No, he’d tried to talk to him over the summer too. A few times actually.

It’s just- okay, so the guy had been an asshole before. And then he died, and honestly? It had sucked. Like a lot. More than Steve was willing to put thought into. But then it turned out, no, that hadn’t been Billy, but instead some type of Mind Flayer clone. And then actual, living, breathing William Hargrove was stuck in the Upside Down for over a year.

And then through another, frankly insane turn of events he ended up kicking some ass, saving some more lives, and then he was just… back. Back in Hawkins, working at Pete’s auto shop a couple months later. Just- alive. Right across the parking lot from Steve’s own car.

Just across the parking lot, and exiting his car, like it was normal to be a ghost one moment and then not the next.

Steve watched as he pulled a carton of cigarettes from his back pocket. The street lamps above him cast a weak, halo like glow above him, and Steve caught himself from letting out a soft gasp.

He really needed to get a grip.

Without a second thought, because if he let himself think he wasn’t going to move, he was out of the car, keys jingling in hand. Billy barely glanced up as he made his way the yard or so across the lot.

“Harrington,” Billy intoned, tapping out a cigarette from the carton. He was all casual lines, and easy expressions. Steve envied that, always had.

“You don’t seem surprised to see me,” he said, coming to stand a few feet away. A comfortable distance, just in reach.

“I saw you when I pulled in. Still Henderson’s chauffeur?” Billy asked, grabbing a Bic lighter from his other pocket. He flicked it, once, twice, as Steve’s eyes tracked him.

“He had a date,” he said in explanation, and Billy nodded his head. Steve wasn’t sure he actually understood or if he just didn’t care enough. It was hard to tell with Billy sometimes.

He was dressed in an old Van Halen T-shirt, loose enough to be considered a V-neck, and a ripped pair of work jeans. Steve felt cold just looking at him.

“It’s 60 degrees out man, what’re you doing in a shirt like that?” He said it without thought, gaze drawn to the dip in the shirt where Billy’s still intact St. Christopher medallion hung.

“Everything feels warmer. Up here,” Billy said, too casual as he took a drag of the now lit cigarette.

“Right,” Steve said, frowning down at his shoes. He couldn’t help the second glance up though.

His hair was still growing back, curling just below his earlobes now. It was nice looking, but Steve still missed what it had been. A small, very quiet part of him was glad Billy hadn’t decided to just keep it short.

“Mind if I share?”

Billy’s eyebrows rose, but he pulled the cigarette from his lips and held it out. Steve took it slowly, watching as Billy let out a stream of smoke. It spilled out into the air like a wave. Undulating and impermanent.

“How have you- how’s work?” Steve asked, taking a step to the side to lean against another empty car. His hand shook as he put the cigarette to his lips.

Billy watched him, eyes narrowed, and Steve had to stop himself from coughing on the inhale. Billy turned away from him before answering.

“I’m not doing fucking small talk, Steve. What do you want?”

Steve did cough this time, smoke pouring from his nose, but he managed to keep ahold of the cigarette. He kept it pinched between his fingers, as he wiped his other hand across his mouth.

“I just- I was wondering,” Steve finished lamely, and Billy watched silently.

Finally, he held his hand out for the last of the cigarette, and Steve handed it over gladly.

“Work’s fine, it’s money in the bank. What more could I ask for?” Billy said with a shrug, a little biting, as he puffed moodily on his returned cig.

“Cool. That’s… good,” Steve said, his lips forming a thin line as he nodded awkwardly.

“Look Billy, about Christmas-”

“Yeah, definitely not talking about that,” Billy cut him off quickly, dropping the cigarette, finally at the end of its life. He brought his foot down on it and ground it into the asphalt, before making a move for his car door.

“Okay, wait, I didn’t mean to-”

And he hadn’t meant to. Back in December, he hadn’t meant to corner Billy Hargrove at a reunion Christmas party and kiss him.

He’d gotten drunk. Like the kind of drunk he hadn’t got since his keg king days, and that was always a mistake. It had been out at Hopper’s new place, and the atmosphere had been warm and inviting. He’d lost control a little bit.

He didn’t regret it. But he did regret how he did it.

“I’ve heard that one before,” Billy snapped, stopping his hand, letting it rest on the door handle to the Camaro. He wouldn’t turn around.

“Well you haven’t exactly let me get further than that,” Steve said, a little exasperated, even if he didn’t really have the right to be.

He watched Billy’s back, the gradual rise and fall of his shoulders with each breath. Even in the chill air of early October, he looked solid, unwavering.

“Was it a pity kiss?”

The question knocked Steve back a little. Billy turned just enough to look at his face, eyes hard, questioning.

“What no-?”

“Then stop fucking apologizing. It was one kiss, we can be grown ups about it can’t we?” Billy questioned, finally turning back around, crossing his arms defensively in front of himself.

Steve nodded, feeling his hands shake, even stuffed deep into his pockets. He had to finish this time. He couldn’t let another 8 months pass by without telling him.

“I didn’t mean to… But I did want to.”

Billy blinked back at him, his lips in their natural pout, parting just slightly.

“It’s been months,” Billy said, after a moment, eyebrows drawn together, a little disbelieving. Steve moved closer, feeling more confident.

“I know.”

“Whoever said you had game was a God Damn liar man,” Billy muttered, letting his head sink down to his chest, as he ran a hand over the curling hair at his neck.

Steve couldn’t help but laugh, just a little, in relief, maybe, but also because none of this sounded like a rejection. Instead of pushing it again, Steve stepped over into Billy’s space to lean against the Camaro along with him. Billy’s breath caught for just a moment, before relaxing.

They listened quietly to the music pouring from the open gym doors.

When the soft, high voice of Whitney drifted out, Steve let his head tilt in its direction.

“Still into chick music huh, Harrington?” Billy asked, and Steve couldn’t help but roll his eyes, feeling the draw to continue this familiar fight of theirs.

“The Bangles are unisex. Just because they’re an all girls band does not make them chick music,” Steve muttered, not actually feeling too annoyed as he caught sight of Billy’s smirk.

“Houston’s got nice pipes, I’ll give her that,” Billy shrugged, letting his crossed arms fall to his sides, one more barrier broken between them.

“Yeah, it’s a good song. It’s kind of weird though,” Steve admitted, as the poppy music continued to play through the darkened night around them.

“The lyrics can’t be that confusing even for you.”

“No. No it’s, it sounds really upbeat but- ya know, it’s meant to be wistful. I guess, I don’t know. I get it though,” Steve said, stuffing his hands into his Jean pockets feeling suddenly awkward and unsure.

“You wanna dance with somebody?” Billy asked cheekily, as Whitney repeated her own refrain.

Oh, I wanna dance with somebody

I wanna feel the heat with somebody…

“Yeah, I would,” Steve said, looking up at the sky, and the stars winking into existence there.

“Then what am I, chopped liver?”

At first Steve scoffed, a little taken off guard. It was only when he turned to look at Billy’s reaction, that he saw that he was serious.

“I’m not- I’m not dancing with you in the middle of a parking lot.”

“Who’s gonna see?” Billy asked, challenging, and childishly hopeful all at once. Steve let his lips part, unsure what would come out of his mouth next.

I need a man who will take a chance…

“Alright, okay. All I know how to do is sway, so…” Steve said, a little breathless.

Billy moved forward first, to rest his hands at Steve's hips, his grip firm, solid. Steve let out a soft breath, watched as Billy's eyes tracked the way his lips parted slightly with it. Carefully, Steve looped his arms around Billy's neck, fingers latching into the loose, soft fabric of his T-shirt.

They began to sway, feet inching around one another, the dim lighting of the parking lot a blanket of safety. He could feel Billy's heartbeat against his chest this close, a steady thrum, something undeniable about it. The heat of him, the feel of him was intoxicating.

So when the night falls, my lonely heart calls…

“Billy…” the name fell from his lips like a prayer, and Billy’s eyes locked with his, the barest hint of a smirk on his lips.

“You talk too much Harrington,” Billy leaned in then, eyes partly lidded, but not all the way closed. Steve met him halfway, over eager, but when their lips finally met again, after all these months it sent an immediate shock of heat through him.

He tilted his head to deepen it, and Billy lifted one of his hands to grasp the back of his neck, pulling him in until they were tipped back against the Camaro together. When Steve let his tongue run a tentative trail across Billy's lower lip he was quickly granted entry, the heat and slick overwhelming.

The moan that followed shocked him, mostly because it hadn't come from him.

“See what acting like adults gets you,” Billy breathed against his mouth, hot and a little damp. Steve could only nod for a moment, a husky laugh on his lips.

“I’ll have to try it more often.

“Somebody, Somebody ooh. To hold me in his arms,” Billy sang faintly, along with the song, and Steve couldn’t help but press a kiss to the other boy's temple.

“You know I think this might be my favorite song now,” he said, pulling back, pushing aside a damp curl from Billy’s forehead.

“You and your chick music man,” Billy said with an eye roll, but he was grinning, cheeks flushed a pretty pink.

“Hey. Whitney’s universal,” Steve said, letting his head fall into the crook of Billy’s neck, pressing a line of kisses up to his jaw.

“Yeah, okay, Whitney’s universal,” Billy said airily, but his hand had found a place in Steve’s back pocket and he gave his ass a squeeze at the same time. Steve felt himself grinning, as he sucked a dark bruise into the soft skin of Billy’s throat.

Don'tcha wanna dance with me baby

Dontcha wanna dance with me boy…

I had a blast writing this, and thanks so much to @lazybakerart for putting together the prompts for this week!!

#harringrove week #harringroveweek #billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove #fanfic

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leolynn · 3 years ago

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more ghostbusters headcannons because i cannot stop thinking about that movie

- okay i've already talked about how phoebe is autistic (and that they're nonbinary, i'll be using they/she for her) and thats literally a fact, theres no debate there

- so we're gonna think about stimming

- they flap their hands when theyre really excited

- but when shes nervous they quickly touch each of their fingers to their thumbs

- they saw trevor do it once and she hasn't been able to stop doing it since

- he was really just practicing guitar chords in the air but hey anything to help his little sister

- he took lessons when his dad was around and they could afford them.

- his guitar was the last birthday present from his dad he ever got.

- he doesn't own one, but he taught himself ukulele

- he can fake it on piano, too. usually sounds jazzy.

- he likes 80's music, rock, and alt music, with the occasional rap or pop song thrown in

- he makes lucky this TERRIBLE mixtape and she treasures it

- guys. guys. please can we talk about how much trevor cares about his younger sibling????

- they're three years, two months, and one week apart in age. because i said so.

- they don't always get along, he loves to tease her but most of the time it doesn't bother them like he wants it to so he leaves her alone

- she doesn't like physical affection, so he shows his appreciation for them in different ways

- words of affirmation is a big one for phoebe, so often trevor will say things like "that's awesome dude!" even when he doesn't really understand what they're doing

- he knows full well that phoebe is smarter than he is

- it bothered him growing up because she got more attention than he did, but when they started showing traits of autism, a lot of that praise disappeared and was replaced with crueler words.

- thats when he knew he had to protect her

- because if it was big enough for his dad to leave, it was big enough for other people to taunt his baby sister about

- trevor misses his dad so much

- he has his phone number on his phone, but most of the time his dad never picks up or says "hey buddy, i can't talk right now, can i call you back?" and never does, so trevor has kind of given up on him.

- his dad doesn't send christmas or birthday presents anymore either

- dad wasn't good with finances either, but having two incomes definitely helped

- phoebe, having never really been close to him, doesn't miss him as much as they would miss the idea of a father figure like some of their book characters have. they definitely see Gary as a father figure once she gets used to him

- phoebe is a massive reader!!! obviously. they mostly read nonfiction and textbooks, college papers, things like that, but they enjoy a good novel here and there.

- their reading level has always been insane.

- trevor and callie have never been readers so the only books they have around were either Egon's old books or belong to phoebe.

- GARY !!!!

- gary loves to take the kids out.

- it gives callie a night off to relax and take care of herself

- and its great bonding time for the kids!

- he takes them to dinner and sometimes they go see movies. he makes sure to check the IMDB listing for any content he wouldn't want either of them to see. he doesn't take phoebe to anything rated higher than PG-13 but he and trevor see an occasional R-rated movie

- he buys them popcorn and candies and sometimes even sodas because he actually really really loves spoiling them.

- gary's love languages are quality time and gift giving

- callie has a ton of little trinkets from gary

- he goes to the local antique store and goes "this reminds me of her. i should get it for her"

- a quality man

- they do have the occasional stupid argument and most of the time gary can't figure out what he's done wrong until after callie has stormed upstairs and locked herself in her bathroom and one of the kids points out the exact thing that hurt her feelings

- he obviously never means to hurt her feelings its just sometimes they're not good at communication

- but if he knows he's messed up, he'll make her bed and heat up some tea and rehearse his apology until she's cooled down enough to unlock the bathroom door to talk to him

- they're not perfect, no one is, but they love each other.

- trevor accidentally taught phoebe to swear and now they won't stop going "shitfuck!" like its one word. he thinks its kind of funny but callie doesn't.

- podcast, when hes much much older, joins tumblr

- his posts are super detailed supernatural events and snippets of his podcast

- he gets a couple more listeners because of the account (and their youtube channel!)

- and then he convinces phoebe to join tumblr too

- their blog is completely empty except for one or two posts about the ghostbusters

#you can find the first one under #ghostbusters: afterlife #phoebe spengler #trevor spengler #ghostbusters #headcanons #long post #gary grooberson #paul rudd #finn wolfhard #mckenna grace #im sorry

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funtimebunnyblog · 3 years ago

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Let's all raise a glass to you, Surey! 🥰😇❤ Please enjoy!

The Pillarmen go out to a Bar with you! 🍻

(Under the cut for length...)

Kars:

• Kars isn't really a person to go out to drink.

• If anything, he prefers to enjoy a drink or two at Home and unwind with a book or in a bath.

• However, if you want to take him out on the town he doesn't refuse you, even though he's not the biggest fan of bars or nightclubs and the crowds of people that come with it.

• If this was something that made you happy, than he supposed it would all be worthwhile to let you enjoy yourself.

• When going out to a bar or a club, those are the nights he dons his dark coat and hat (despite how you may plan to dress for the evening) and walks arm in arm with you down the street to the place of your choice.

• You better had pick a good one because he's not a man to hop from place to place in one night. He makes it very clear that it's here and then Home.

• The majority of the night he prefers to sit quietly at the bar or at a booth in the far corner, silently nursing a glass of vodka or red wine.

• He'll let you dance and socialize and enjoy yourself all you want but don't expect him to do the same.

• Kars will also monitor how much you're drinking and don't think he won't cut you off if he's deemed you've had enough.

• For your safety, he keeps his eyes on you at all times as he doesn't exactly trust these kinds of establishments and he knows how truly disgusting Humans can be if given the chance.

• It's no surprise he has absolutely no tolerance for riff raff or drunks should they happen to be around.

• Anyone who's sober (or anyone with a brain for that matter) wouldn't dare to bother him, simply by the powerful and inhuman aura he emits just sitting there.

• Once on a night out, a drunk man who was entertaining himself by going around and poking people made the mistake of staggering up to Kars where he sat, reaching out and tapping him right on the nose.

• Surprisingly very calm about it, Kars watched him stumble away laughing with little more than a glare before rising to his feet. The song had suddenly changed in that moment and couples were dancing to some upbeat music, Kars left his glass behind at the bar and approached you on the dance floor.

• It shocked you to say the least when Kars approached and took your hand and asked for a dance to which you happily obliged.

• This was a little odd for Kars to want to dance in public but you didn't think to question it.

• As the dance floor crowded and people danced away the drunk man made his rounds again, laughing as he went around and tapped people on the nose, pinched their cheek or flicked them on the chin. Kars had his eyes set on him the entire time he danced, waiting with all the patience in the world.

• The unsuspecting man passed bye Kars one more time and the altercation was fast. Very fast. So very momentary even you didn't see it happen.

• Kars spun you around with one hand and with the other he curled his fist and punched the drunk man straight under his chin, knocking him to the floor, completely unconscious.

• Kars continued to dance with you like nothing at all happened as people suddenly took notice, crowding around the floored drunk questioningly.

• "Hmm," Kars peered over his shoulder, lips pursed and the very definition of unbothered. Not a soul (not even you) suspected a thing. "It would seem he's had too much to drink."

• In Kars' opinion, that was more merciful than the man deserved.

• On the nights where you're drunk, you can bet that he's grumbling the entirety of the time dragging you Home.

• Listening to you giggle and chatter on without a care in the world, slurring your words and relying on him to keep upright might've warmed his heart if he wasn't aware of the complete mess you would be in the morning.

• Kars isn't one to baby you when you're hungover either.

• You did this to yourself and he did warn you not to drink so much afterall.

• But he's not cruel to you when you're hungover. He'll smoothe your hair and rub your back if you happen to get sick. He'll also make you drink plenty of water and he'll let you rest as long as you need to.

• As long as you had fun and keep enjoying these little nights out he doesn't mind all the displeasing parts that come with it. Your happiness is truly what matters to him in the end.

Esidisi:

• Quite the opposite of Kars, Esidisi LOVES going out on the town for a couple of drinks with you.

• In fact, he's got a number of favourite places around to pick but he'll always ask you for your approval when making the decision.

• Chances are, when you and him are such frequent Bar goers together, EVERYONE at your favourite spots will know you!

• Esidisi sometimes likes to go the extra mile for the occasion and throw on something sexy but still casual. Long sleeved, colourful shirts halfway unbuttoned and some jewelry always does the trick for him.

• The most memorable nights for you both is when there's a new place opened up in town and the two of you go to check it out, meet some new people and maybe dance a little.

• It's probably safe to say that Esidisi's favourite thing to do is mess with any drunks that happen to be around.

• He'll sit at the bar as you drink and socialize with some of your friends, surrounded by a bunch of tipsy Humans, using his powers to do the oddest tricks for money.

• The crowd goes absolutely wild no matter how many times they see him make a glass of cold beer boil using just his hand.

• Chances are, Esidisi might end up being more drunk than you the majority of these nights because of his entertaining nature.

• "You can't possibly drink that whole glass in one go." The Bartender frowned at the Pillarman skeptically after he had made that outrageous claim. "It's not possible."

• Esidisi could only grin at him as he put the glass to his lips. Without another word he threw back his head, sucking down the cold, inky Beer in one massive gulp; foam and all.

• The Bartender (now not so skeptical) and the man sitting to Esidisi's left, who had been nursing his 2nd glass of the same stuff for about 10 minutes now, could only stare at him, awestruck.

• "Aw Hell," he gaped. "I'd pay 20$ to see that again!"

• 20$ was put down and another glass gone within seconds; just the same as the first. A crowd began to draw around the bar and the massive man seated there.

• 40$, 80$, 150$, 300$ bets were laid out on the counter and Esidisi rightfully collected ALL of it as he just kept drinking, each glass gone in a single gulp.

• Needless to say, you're gonna be screwed if you're drunk yourself on nights like that because stuffing a Pillarman whose drank his body weight in alcohol into a Cab to try and get him Home isn't an easy job.

• Most especially when said drunkard Pillarman keeps insisting he's NOT drunk, whines he doesn't wanna go Home yet and keeps trying to go back inside.

• When Esidisi is hungover the next day it's not a treat either. Be prepared for WHINING.

• However, if you happen to be the hungover one he's probably one of the best caregivers you could ask for.

• He'll chuckle as he gives you some ibuprofen and water, telling you all about the great time you both had (if you happen to have forgotten) and how you took your drinks like an absolute champ.

• Needless to say, he's always down for a night out at a bar with you.

Wamuu:

• Admittedly, Wamuu was a little on the inexperienced side when it came down to drinking or going to places like bars.

• Overtime with you however, he grows more accustomed to the concept of both.

• When you take him out to a bar for a couple of drinks he doesn't really dress up for the occasion unless you tell him to. He prefers to just put on a clean white T-shirt, sweatpants and maybe a hoodie.

• You'll have to order his drink for him on the first few nights out together because he honestly doesn't know what he likes or what to have.

• The variety of alcohol (let alone the amount of brands under a single kind) was a little overwhelming to him.

• "--and what will you have?" "Um... beer?" "What kind, sir?" "..... um.... beer?"

• He's happy to let you drink and socialize if you wish to but he'll be a little lost if you leave him alone at the bar with his drink and a bunch of strangers to go to the washroom.

• Surprisingly however, it isn't hard for him to make some friends when that happens.

• With nothing else to do, he'll be watching whatever sports game is happening on one of the many TV's as he sips away at his drink.

• The game doesn't really interest him (he doesn't even understand the point of it) but he picks up on the habit of cheering when other people in the bar cheer and celebrate for their team.

• Because of that, other men and sportsfans alike will just flock to Wamuu under the impression he's a fellow sportsfanatic (or maybe even a sports player himself due to his massive size).

• By the time you come back, he's surrounded by a gaggle of sportsfans all cheering and highfiving Wamuu, patting him on the back, punching his shoulder and offering him plenty more to drink.

• He just shrugs at you when he catches your confused gaze from across the bar as he's not really sure what's going on either.

• Though he's content to let you drink and enjoy yourself, he knows very well when you've had quite enough to drink. He will straight up pick you up and carry you Home if need be.

• "Kisssh me, Wammmmuu." You half-giggled, sluggishly trying to pull yourself more upright to give his absolutely delectable looking lips the smooching you so wanted to as he closed the door of your apartment behind him.

• The Warrior sighed, patting your head. "Oh beloved, I am most honored you want to but you're drunk, it's not right..." he told you gently, carrying you all the way to your bedroom to lay you down despite any protests you might make.

• After giving you plenty of water and tucking you in (you at least get a goodnight kiss on the head), he'll keep an eye on you until the morning and ensure all your needs are met when you're hungover.

• If you ask him, he'll admit that he had fun and has no objections to going out again next weekend.

Santana:

• Much like Kars, Santana isn't exactly the biggest fan of noises or crowds of Humans in one settlement.

• Be prepared for him to crinkle his nose at the thought of going to a bar or a club where all of that happens under one roof.

• After some coaxing however, he'll agree but mostly for your sake.

• He wants to see you happy and he knows that nights out for some fun and social interaction was healthy for Humans.

• Besides, he also saw this as an opportunity to study Humans and try to understand their behavior a little better.

• Santana will throw on some street clothes and follow you wherever you want to go that night; whether its near or far, big or small.

• When going to a bar he's more interested in the food there rather than the drink.

• In fact; you'll come to find that he LOVES Bar food.

• The waitress will barely turn her back for a second before the basket of nachos she just delivered him has suddenly ceased to exist and he's asking for more.

• With an appetite like that, the Bar staff asks him if he wants to try their challenge of eating a HUGE meal under a set amount of time. If he wins he gets the meal free and all the drinks you order tonight free, his next meal here free and his picture on the Bars wall of fame.

• He only agrees to the challenge because he likes the sound of free food.

• The food comes and Santana makes it on the wall of fame easily in record time. The Owner of the place is absolutely gobsmacked with the fact that Santana scarfed down an ENTIRE 10 pound burger in less than 2 minutes.

• Santana will stare at the menu of drinks for the longest time, mouthing out the names of drinks and brands curiously. He'll want you to explain him what everything is but he honestly won't know what he'll like.

• He absolutely doesn't like beer. Not at all.

• The first sip of the first glass given to him was promptly spit out. Santana's mouth twisted into a bitter knot, pushing the glass FAR away and shaking his head frantically to try and rid of the disgusting yeasty film left on his tongue.

• You'll have to order him something more appealing in taste if you want him to drink at all.

• You'll find that he comes to enjoy a more sweet and fruity tropical drink like a Piña colada.

• "How is it?" You ask, a smile tugging at your mouth when you notice a little gleam in his eye as he put the colourful drink to his lips. He definitely looked less miserable than he had a moment ago.

• "Hmm," a little pink tongue darted out to swipe along his upper lip, his thumb fiddling with the tiny umbrella sitting on the ridge of the glass. "sweet. Pleasing."

• Because of his newfound love for the sweet tropical tasting booze you might have to monitor how much he has to be on the safe side as you weren't sure whether Santana would handle intoxication well.

• However, if you decide to let go and have one too many Santana will put his arm around you and firmly tell you it's time to go Home.

• He doesn't really know the first thing about the care and feeding of a hungover Human but he'll do anything you ask of him.

• You need water? He's got two bottles ready for you. Head hurt? He'll sprint to the store for Ibuprofen for you. The sunlight in the window bothering you? He'll cover that window using his own body if he has to.

• You might just be surprised when he asks you if you and him could go to another bar soon for more good food and a couple more drinks...

#funnybunny #pillarmen #kars #esidisi #wamuu #santana #pillarmen headcanons #kars x reader #esidisi x reader #wamuu x reader #santana x reader

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ashintheairlikesnow · 3 years ago

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Chris lying on top of someone getting cuddles plz Ash I beg of you

Follows on Time Apart, It Doesn’t Work As Well As You’d Hoped, and Learn to Fly

Their heartbeat is slow and steady underneath his ear, and his eyes close, letting himself dwell in the sound. His fingers twist in their shirt, relax, twist and relax, rubbing his thumbs over the seams of their binder underneath.

They hum, softly, a tuneless sound very nearly like his own, and that’s like drifting in a warm sea, floating on saltwater and feeling the sun on his skin. Their fingers gently move through his hair, blunt bitten nails not quite scratching his scalp, just rubbing with their fingertips.

The coffeeshop is quiet around them, emptied-out except for the two baristas who speak in low voices under the whirring of the espresso machine, handing drinks out the drive-thru window, bags of cookies and cannoli, a scone or three. They don’t ask if Chris and Laken need anything more.

They know that the need, as it stands now, isn’t for the coffee that’s gone cold in both their cups. It's for the space to have their quiet together, after time apart.

The rain pours, outside, a soft and subtle rush, like blood pulsing through the veins of the world. Blood goes into and out of the human heart, water goes up to the atmosphere and then back to earth. It’s the same.

The earth breathes.

So does Laken.

Chris, like a bird with wings open to the wind to rise, listens to it.

“I’m not afraid of you,” Laken murmurs, without pausing in the soft rhythm of their fingers. “Or of what happened to you, or of what it means for us. My future is with you, that hasn’t changed. I’ve never been afraid of you, Chris. Afraid for you a couple of times, sure, but never of you.”

“I’ll freeze up,” Chris says back, voice low. The music that plays over the speakers switches in a wild, odd swing between the sort of instrumental jazz Chris is used to and the occasional bouncy 80’s pop song. He wonders, in a detached way, which of the baristas has their iPod plugged in to the speakers. “Every, um. Every time. I can’t-... I can’t, can’t stop it right away. Ever.”

“I know,” Laken says. They’re on their back on the back, shoulders propped against the arm of the couch, head tipped back a little towards the ceiling. Chris lays on top of them, his own feet up on the couch’s arm at the other side, the soles of his worn-out slip-on shoes pointing up. His fingers run over the thick, smooth binder fabric under their t-shirt, back and forth, back and forth. His fingers skim along the edge where the black of the binder meets the skin over their lower ribs.

He mirrors the movement of their hand through his hair without realizing it.

“You, you, you shouldn’t-... someone who, um, who can’t... I'm, I'm fucked up, Laken."

“No one gets out of this life without some dings, baby,” Laken says, and their hand slips down, cups his jaw and gently encourages him to look up as they look down to meet his eyes. Theirs, always, are pools so deep and dark he can’t tell iris from pupil. Some of the long part of their hair falls forward, framing their face. “Nobody. Yours are a little rougher than some others, but I’ve got mine, too, you know? I love you, dings and all. We're fucked up but we're fucked up together."

“You don’t freeze.”

“No. I throw punches. And trust me, it’s not always the right response. Even if it feels good in the moment.”

“I, I, I wish I could fight.”

“You did.” Laken sighs, a low soft exhale, and he listens to the sound it within them as well as without. “You pushed her away. You said so yourself. You pushed her away and said no.”

“Not, not right away.”

“God, Chris. You’re even braver for fighting when your body is screaming at you not to. It’s not thoughtless, for you, like it is for me sometimes. You have to push past years of hurt in a couple of seconds. That’s big.”

“It, it, it feels… small.”

“Well, it’s not.” The firm matter-of-factness of their tone makes him smile, secretly, turning his head briefly so the expression is made against their sternum, the warmth of their skin that settles under his own.

“I’m going to to to to, um, to make, it, it harder on you,” He says, looking back up at them. He doesn’t like to look right into people’s eyes, never has, but it’s not so bad with them. Sometimes. And he knows they’ll let him look away when it’s too much. “You know? You, you should… you should maybe find someone else.”

“I should be there for the man I love,” Laken says, voice getting a little softer. There’s a clatter of metal steam-cups over by the counter, the baristas rinsing everything out during this slow time, when the nearly-overwhelming rain means no one is getting out of their car right now.

The two old men - Mr. Malley and Mr. Cilly - have gone back to their homes. It’s nearly lunchtime, and Chris’s stomach feels a little hollowed. He’ll get a scone in a little while, maybe. If he remembers.

“But... everyone who loves me dies, gets hurt, gets gets gets lost,” Chris whispers, feeling a sharp twist inside him. A grief and pain that was wiped away, pushed down by drugs but never fully destroyed. It rises in a wave to break against him, as if they have only just died, the two of them. His mother’s eyes fading as she told him it would be okay, in the end. His father had already been gone.

“That’s a goddamn lie,” Laken says, and there’s an insistence even in their half-whisper. “Jake’s still here. Nat’s still here. Antoni’s still here, Kauri’s still here. I’m still here. Hell, those weird old dudes seem to care about you and they’re still here, aren’t they?”

“But, but, but when I, when I tell everyone-”

“I’ll be right fucking there. Wherever you want me.”

“Everyone will know what I am.” They’re silent, but he can feel their correction behind their lips, barely held back, and he smiles, just a little. “Okay, okay. What I, um, what, what I had to do.”

“If that’s what you want to do, I support you. And I’m not turning away just because you’re doing something amazing, even if it’s dangerous.” They run a finger along his jaw, and their smile is bright, their teeth just slightly crooked in a way Chris loves. “I told you. My future is with you, and that’s a choice I made like a month after you said that you loved me the first time. I knew it was me and you, Chris. Whatever stands in our way, we’ll get through it.”

Chris blinks at them, thinking, and then his own smile widens. It’s still a little trembling, a little hesitant… but stronger. “Blow, um. Blow it apart and go through the wreckage.”

“What?” Laken blinks back at him.

He shakes his head, smiling and laying his ear back down over their heart, looking out the window at the driving rain. It’s made puddles in the parking lot, and he sees a bright white and red polka-dot umbrella as someone makes a mad dash for their car from the bookstore a few doors down.

“My mom,” He says, softly. “My, um. Mr. Malley said… my mom would, um, would would do that. If she couldn’t get over something, or around it, she’d… she’d she’d she’d go through it. Knock it it it it it down or, or, or, um, blow it up."

“Then let’s make like your mom,” Laken says, softly. “And blow WRU to bits and walk right through whatever’s left of their bullshit and build our life there. Take their wreckage and make a statue out of it. Or a hammer. Which we will then bash them with."

He laughs, against them, and they laugh, too.

He's missed the sound of their laughter so much.

When their hand moves down, he grabs onto it. Their fingers are warm, as always. Warm and dry, the perfect counterpoint to the weather. They press a kiss to his hair and he lets his eyes close, enjoying the feeling.

“Do, um. Do do do do you want to meet her?”

“Who?”

“My mom. And, um, I guess, I guess my dad, too. I I I I know where they are, now. Where they’re… they’re buried.”

Laken inhales sharply. “Since when?”

“Akio, um, told me. Do, do you want to… meet them?”

“Sure.” Laken hesitates, then adds in a kind of nervous feigned humor, “What if your mom doesn’t like me?”

Chris thinks of the woman in his mind, still fuzzy around the edges and with a voice he can only remember when he isn’t thinking too much about it. Dark hair and a bright laugh, holding him tightly when he needed it and letting him run when he needed that instead. The woman who went to every single practice and meet, who had been so excited for him to qualify for the national elite team alongside Akio. He can almost see her clearly, if he keeps his eyes closed and forces his way around the headache that still tries to push her back into the light.

“I think,” He murmurs, “She, she, she, she would have liked you. A lot. And and and and probably been mad it took me so, um, so so so long to bring you by."

@burtlederp @finder-of-rings @endless-whump @astrobly @newandfiguringitout @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @downriver914 @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @nonsensical-whump @outofangband @eatyourdamnpears

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disneylanddilettante · 4 years ago

Text

The Disney Renaissance Killed the Disneyland Star

This post has been brewing and stewing in my brain for some time.

We here in the Disney theme park fandom are prone to lament the modern attraction design philosophy that says everything must be based on a movie. Aside from spectacularly clueless comments about “a random mountain in India or whatever” and misuse of the term “barrier to entry,” the reason behind it seems to boil down to: That’s what guests want. On the one hand, this is very clearly an excuse to do what Marketing wants (because film IPs are proprietary in a way that broad concepts are not, and can be merchandised accordingly), but on the other hand…it seems to be…kind of…true? The vast majority of the public, in my experience, does think of Disneyland (which I am going to use as synecdoche for all Disney parks, because it’s the one I grew up with, it’s easy to say, and because I can) as a place where you see Disney characters walking around as if they were real, and go on rides based on Disney movies, and anything else there is just to, idk, fill space until they can think of a cool movie makeover for it.

I have spoken to people online who quite enjoy Disneyland, but also think the Enchanted Tiki Room should become a Moana attraction, Tom Sawyer Island should be something to do with The Princess and the Frog, and the Matterhorn should be turned into Frozen. When I challenged them as to why, they didn’t seem to understand the question—what did I mean, “why?” Isn’t it self-evident? A couple years ago, one of the Super Carlin Brothers (I don’t remember which one; anyway I couldn’t tell them apart if you put a gun to my head) made a video expressing bafflement over the use of Figment as a mascot in Epcot because “He’s not from anything.” As if a ride in that very parkwere nothing.

So there is something to the assertion that film IP tie-ins are what regular guests expect and want. But the question remains as to why they want that—after all, it didn’t used to be that way. Costumed characters and rides based on movies have always been part of Disneyland, of course, but in past decades, the most elaborate and promoted attractions were the ones based on unique concepts that had nothing to do with the movies. The reasons to love Disneyland were things like the Haunted Mansion and the Mark Twain and Space Mountain…not so much the chance to meet Mickey Mouse. So what gave the public the idea that it was all about movies and characters? I’m sure there are several reasons, but I’m going to focus on one that I don’t see brought up that often.

I’m going to blame the Disney Renaissance.

Let me give you some personal background. I’m a young Gen-Xer, born in 1977. I was a child of the 80s…and in the 80s, Disney wasn’t doing so hot. Feature Animation had dropped to a cinematic release about once every four years, the live-action division was even less productive, and the corporate raiders were pawing at the door. In those days, when I saw a Disney movie in theaters, probably four times out of five it was a re-release of an older classic. (Anyone else remember when that was a thing?) There wasn’t much new at Disneyland either. The biggest thing to happen in the first half of the decade was the remodel of Fantasyland, which added one new ride—based on Pinocchio, a 43-year-old film—and otherwise just rearranged and refined what had always been there. On the other hand, the big Imagineering projects of the 60s and 70s were mostly still going strong.

The upshot is that if you were a Disney fan in those days (there weren’t many of us, even in my age cohort), you were a fan of the older movies and/or the parks. And for all its genuine quality, that stuff was showing its age. It was made in decades past, and there was a corniness and a quaintness to much of it. Most of the kids my age considered Disney “baby stuff” and were eager to put it behind them. It seems to have been a widespread phenomenon, because I don’t remember the park being very crowded when I was a young kid. Queues for even the roller coasters tended to top out around 45 minutes and it was very rare that we didn’t have time to do everything we wanted on a given visit.

And then, the year I turned 12—the year my age bracket hit puberty and could definitively be said to have outgrown cartoons altogether (except for the weirdos like me)—The Little Mermaid hit theaters.

Two years later, we got Beauty and the Beast.

And the hits kept coming. Suddenly, Disney was the hottest thing in entertainment again. Not just kids—by this time the generation that would come to be known as Millennials—but their parents watched these movies and went wow, this is really good. Disney is better than I thought. Maybe we should rent some of those older movies that I remember from when I was a kid. Maybe we should go to Disneyland… Unlike in the past, when families went to Disneyland because it was advertised and known as a family destination, families went to Disneyland because the kids were going gaga over the new Disney movies and the parents wanted to make them happy.

So a whole new generation of fans flocked to the parks, most probably never having been before, or not recently. They didn’t know what to expect. They just knew they loved these new movies with their endearing lead characters (so much more full of personality than Snow White or Alice or Pinocchio) and their big bombastic Broadway-style musical numbers (so much more in line with current musical tastes than the Tin Pan Alley ditties from Cinderella or Peter Pan or The Jungle Book). That’s what they wanted from Disney, whether they were paying six bucks a head plus popcorn, or fifty bucks a head plus lodging.

And that would have been fine but for the fact that endearing characters and big bombastic musical numbers are really hard to build traditional dark rides around. What you can do, though, for people who want to meet their favorite characters, is build dedicated character meet-and-greet spots. What you can do for people who want to sing along with Academy Award-winning songs is create huge colorful parades and stage shows that feature those songs. Best of all, if you are certain people who shall go unnamed, these sorts of things are much cheaper to create and operate than rides. Corporate was more than happy to meet, rather than try to exceed, the expectations of this new wave of fans.

The newer guests got used to seeing more-or-less verbatim (condensed) film content in the form of these shows and parades. The classic dark rides began to look decidedly odd to them—why are the movie events out of order? Why doesn’t the main character show up more? Why don’t we get to hear all the songs? And no one was there to explain it to them, because the older generations of fans had largely drifted away and the internet wasn’t quite a household staple yet. Rides that weren’t even based on a movie seemed even odder—what does a Wild West roller coaster have to do with Disney? What does a submarine ride have to do with Disney? I thought this park was supposed to be for kids, but my kids don’t recognize this stuff! They should build a Lion King ride! They should build a Toy Story ride! That Snow White ride isn’t suitable for kids; they should do something about that! I didn’t pay all this money to stand in line for an hour and a half and go on a ride that my kids don’t get!

The pattern was set. IP tie-ins were what the people wanted, and they closer they hewed to their source material, the more guest approval they got, simply because people didn’t know any different. And it has snowballed from there. The Disney Renaissance was amazing for the art of animation, but I think it was a net negative for the art of theme parks.

Tl;dr The Disney Renaissance changed guest expectations for Disney entertainment products in ways that were incompatible with classic Imagineering principles.

#disneyland #disney theme parks #walt disney world #disney #disney renaissance #theme parks

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ranboo5 · 4 years ago

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Dropping the Ranboo mixtape

Anyway at time of starting to write this post I had two likes and two affirmative replies, which is Good Enough For Me, so here I am :D I was gonna link the YT but on second thought my YT channel is a mess so this is gonna be one of the annoying ones that doesn’t link to one you can actually listen to but

This is also a running list and currently organized roughly by increasingly hotter takes and it’s under a cut bc it’s 13 songs and I justified all of them

Everybody Likes You (Lemon Demon) - LISTEN THE ANIMATION MEMES WEREN’T LYING THAT EVERYBODY LIKES YOU CAN RANBOOCORE. The increasingly distorted, incredibly bright repetition of EVERYBODY LIKES YOU EVERYBODY LIKES YOU EVERYBODY LIKES YOU until you can hear it morphing in and out of EVERYBODY LIED TO YOU? Tell Me That’s Not Him In The Spiral Depths

Tall (Naps the Block on YT) - This is a) literally a theme for the End, b) sounds stumbling and anxious/high-strung, and c) echoes the Pigstep melody in the middle while still very much doing its own thing this is self explanatory

Dance of Thorns/Old Secret mashup (Tensei and James Roach respectively, feat. woodfur00 on YT) (yes this is Homestuck music) - It’s just the vibes. The energy. The way the elegance of the violin lines of Dance of Thorns sounds almost nervous especially against the almost noir mystery vibes of Old Secret, and the guitar lines of Dance of Thorns add like. Initiative/urgency especially when they underlay the other music it’s so good I don’t think either song alone is Ranboo vibes but this remix definitely is. Just the mix of perseverance and desperation and melancholy and mystery and Class

Touch-Tone Telephone (Lemon Demon) - This one is old news but tbh it just works. Man decides he’s the correct one in this situation and he’s losing his entire mind that no one is listening to him because he just is not

2012 (Will Wood) - This one isn’t really clever it’s just about memory loss, derealization, identity, and often self-hatred (“A miserable fuck, but a loud Tao mystical” is a lot). “Did you lose yourself?/It’s always in the last place that you check” sounds so mocking in ways internal monologues like Droice have been and “I might find myself/By retracing my steps” is literally just Ranboo dealing with the Enderwalk; “And not until lobotomy abolished my monotony/Did I applaud autonomy, and modify a lot of me!” works so much for him Dealing With Himself generally, and also “I heard the world would turn to hell/Compared to that, I’m doing well!” is a Him sentiment

Hand Me My Shovel, I’m Going In! (Will Wood) - Jokes about the three hour mining/grinding streams aside. Not only is the chorus so heavily a spiral/self-evaluation mood, but literally consider his thought processes abt the things he’s done/allegedly done and then consider “My dreams were shattered like a stained-glass window/Jesus in pieces! I believe I through a brick right through Him/But my memory could not be saved!/It just seems unlikely that it’s me who was to blame/So I bookmark my DSM, ‘cause I need to remember my place.” And now with the advent of the “experiments” the second verse’s “Take the road on higher ground, and tell me ‘don’t look down! You’ll fall and break your back’/But that just reminds me how there’s more to be found beneath the black!” is more relevant than ever

Friends With You (The Scary Jokes) - Oh my god. Oh my fucking god man. This could be on here for “I put myself to bed just halfway through the party/I love all my friends, but I hate when their eyes are on me” alone but the general almost empty saccharine vibe of the song is immensely his vibe; the humorlessly-smiling vocal fry on “don’t know” in “Why do you pretend/You don’t know who’s to blame?” is probably responsible for 80% of this read. Not to mention the first lyrics are literally “How long do I have to wait/’Til my lonely days are over?” which is really the. The waiting it out man the So When Do I Get To Be Okay of it all. Shoutouts also to “And the crumbling infrastructure no one else can see,” the self hatred of “I miss being friends with you/But what can I do/What can I do/But leave you alone?” and to “And I can tell you really love me/Can you tell I’m really sorry?” Just. The mix of hope+affection and dejected cynicism and self-hatred in the lyrics

Saline Solution (none other than Mr Wilbur Soot) - Remember what I said about waiting it out until you get to be okay? Anyway that’s crystallized in “If I could just break one more night/Maybe I could wake up and feel alright” and also this is literally a song about catastrophizing and self-evaluation just,, in general and I will not be highlighting all the lyrics about this but I will highlight the fact that he literally calls himself pragmatic and also the lyric “blurring the facts and the fiction.” Also, the sheer desperate anger-concealing-breakdown vibes of “I think I’ve made my choice” to “I think I’ve found my voice” deserves a mention, as does the culminating end of “saline solution to all your problems” with the tears+now splash water motifs of it all with Ranboo I am going to die

Funny (The Scary Jokes) - This is actually a softer take but not only does it literally start with the singer pleading with the addressee to look away, it continues with “I went up in the middle of the night and I climbed right onto the stage/And I raged/And I cried/Oh, what a funny joke am I” disregarding everything as performance, reemphasizes the opening demand with the qualifier “it’s not that I hate you, it’s just that I’m funny these days,” and then kills you with the last couple lines which. Yeah he does care and it does,,, just,,,,, a

Chemical Overreaction (Will Wood) - This is where the mood VIOLENTLY whiplashes because this is where we get unhinged. Anyway “I won’t stop to drop to draw a line in the sand/’Cause I’ll be picked apart to pieces by coyotes!” is LITERALLY the whole “I don’t do well with ‘peer pressure’” thing. “Where the sentimental value of the city around ya/Is deleted obsolete, but still completely will stun ya” is the single most L’Manberg lyric I’ve ever heard, especially from the perspective of a character whom I will repeatedly insist is narratively in the role of someone who’s shown up and seen the status quo as an outsider after it’s been established (hence the eternal New Kid vibes). Chorus very much has vibes of Ranboo Is Seized By The Urge To Do Something, and like. The entire dramatic end part. The last two lines especially (be very careful if you look up the vieo for this by the way it is NOT pretty; cws in the video for flashing, blood, suicide imagery)

A Mannequin Adrift (The Scary Jokes) - The Bitterness. This song is just fully The Bitterness at the environment he’s stuck in; the saccharine comes back as does the “peer pressure” thematic and just the Having An Awful Time; the sarcastic saccharine comes back too, which is always good I love passive aggression. Honestly the first verse is just everything like just listen to it it immediately makes sense

Poison Ivy Grows (The Scary Jokes) - This is overall a song about having bad brain and not knowing what the hell to do about it; it’s so faintly bitter and distant and melancholy and also so zoned out. Also, it’s not the only lyric that matters here but it is enough to be a full argument on its own: “I used to spend so much time/Wandering around outside/Now I’ve got too much on my mind/Now I’ve got too much on my mind”

Spring Haze (Tori Amos) - Listen. Do I know what Spring Haze is about? No. Is that gonna stop me from saying it’s about Ranboo? Also no. I just think “You say we’ll never make it there/So all we do is circle it” is so much, the fact that the bridge at the end is just “Why does it always end up like this?” repeated, and that it just feels so much like overall the song feels like a desperate attempt to figure Something out, and the chorus is just inexplicably him? It might be partially influenced by the fact that “Uh-oh, let go, off on my way” and, to a lesser extent, “Uh-oh, way to go” is not only in accordance with character vibes but also vaguely evocative of Ranboo’s speech pattern

#this also has a couple songs pending addition #this post is just That Enderman Is Deeply Troubled. Listen To Scary Jokes

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plounce · 4 years ago

Photo

what if gay CATS........... were gay PERSONS

(info on this au under the cut)

theyre all shitty young adults just kind of. getting through their early 20s as best they can. or as much as they can. maybe things will get better someday, but right now they’re kind of spinning their wheels

magic exists but like eh it’s not a big thing don’t worry about it. it’s around but like whatever. not many people have it and it’s mostly just like. a curiosity or a party trick

demeter and bombularina are together, tugger and mistoffelees are together, bombularina and tugger occasionally fwb, it’s cool and aboveboard and it’s all fine

demeter:

bisexual with a preference for women. 24 years old

semi-psychic (not as powerful as tantomile or coricopat). tends to have vague and confusing prophetic dreams

dropped out of grad school for sociology due to trauma and ensuing intensified mental illness. kind of bitter about it, but tries to get through every day. general anxiety disorder even before all that

very nervous around most men she doesn’t know & trust

currently working at a barnes & noble starbucks, which sucks. she recently became the assistant manager, which turbo sucks because now she has more work for only like a buck raise, but at least she’s getting reliable shifts

her go-to therapy is cutting her hair with scissors. her hair is fried to all hell from regular bleaching

she’s learning how to crochet because she’s decided she needs to do something physically productively creative with her hands to distract herself from Stuff

bombalurina:

bisexual. 24 years old

got her bachelor’s in english two years ago and hasn’t found a job in her field and has kind of given up on it for now

she’s been bartending for like four years, does freelance editing work on the side. will occasionally write listicles for clickbait sites if she needs extra cash

literally any extra money she can save goes to tattoos. her right sleeve’s almost done

has natural red hair but dyes it cherry red

a hedonist to cope but is also just a natural hedonist. likes a good bath

i know that like the typical thing fandoms say about female characters is “doesn’t take shit” for the girlboss points but she truly does not take shit anymore. she used to take people’s shit sometimes but at this point in her life she’s tired and she has a girlfriend to be protective of. she has a couple people whose shit she will take (mostly just tugger) but besides them (and having to practice basic customer service to keep her job) she’s tired of other people’s shit! enough!

my personal take on bombalurina is a mix between the riot grrrls of the 90s and 80s punk girls, and then a dash of the greaser chicks from grease. i saw that spiked collar and my brain went OH okay i can run with this somewhere fun. same for demeter, but less so - she just has the piercings.

demelurina:

bombalurina met demeter in college at a women’s activism club, noticed her because of her dimple piercings and was like “oh someone else with a lot of metal in her face, i’ll sit next to her”

they were each other’s first off-campus roommates and were close friends. made out a couple times, but it was mostly a lot of sexual tension. there was a lot of bombalurina staring at demeter while she or demeter made out with someone else

demeter was on and off with her high school boyfriend munkustrap and bombalurina was like “oh he’s so much more stable/calm than me and she needs that, i party a bit too much for her, i shouldn’t try anything” so she just sort of. lets their almost-there peter off

(this is all bombalurina’s internal thoughts - demeter always was interested in her, but thought she was too boring for bombalurina. so neither of them thought they could pursue it)

bombalurina graduated and moved somewhere cheaper further away from campus. they kind of drift apart

munkustrap and demeter peter off and he moves away for a job (they’re still good friends, it was a very amicable breakup) and then demeter gets with macavity, which is a deeply toxic situation for her and sucks hugely and throws her whole life really off track. won’t go into further details

she finally manages to break up with him and calls bombalurina at like 2 am asking if she can pick her up, and also if she can sleep on her couch, it’s okay if that’s not okay, she just. really needs a place she feels safe, and her gut is telling her to. and of course bombalurina says yes

bombalurina also knew macavity and had also made out a couple times with him at like parties and stuff (see: staring at demeter as she makes out with people). something about transference of feelings - bombalurina was into him for a couple moments because he and demeter had a thing.

this is due to me interpreting the song “macavity” as actually about bombalurina wanting to fuck demeter and her singing as a half-repressed expression of that. i use my really good wlw brain to reach that conclusion. it’s kind of a non-competitive version of eve sedgwick’s take on the love triangle. (<-- normal thing to say)

but anyway demeter stays on bombalurina’s couch and she tries so hard to stay on track but eventually she just has to drop out. bombalurina helps her with that too. she’s just really supportive even as demeter’s life is at its lowest point. when she gets home from bartending she gets demeter to go to sleep

she just Stays with her and makes her smile and reminds her that her life isn’t over, there’s still things in her day to enjoy, to keep her trudging forward

bombalurina is roommates with tugger at this point - he also recently dropped out and demeter knows him because he’s munkustrap’s brother, so he’s Trusted and also is like “hey it’s okay that you dropped out, im here and im chilling and you like me and respect me at least a little, and you have a bachelor’s degree at least!” (more on him later)

demeter is like “oh god ive been crashing at their place for so long not paying rent, theyre gonna ask me to leave, im such a freeloader, they wont take my attempts at paying rent” but then bombalurina and tugger are like “hey! the lease is almost up! we found a pretty good 3 bedroom, do you wanna have your own room for real?” and she nearly cries because 1. the RELIEF 2. oh my god you want me around???

cut to bombalurina helping demeter put together an ikea dresser (tugger got banished to the kitchen to make crystal light lemonade for them because he’s useless with a screwdriver) and demeter has two epiphanies:

1. i thought i was ready to d*e four months ago and here i am making a dresser to put clothes into in my new apartment where i live and feel safe and loved. im still not happy but im still alive and im making a dresser

2. holy fuck im back in love with my best friend, and ten times more than i was back then.

so she like kind of freaks out because she’s already imposed so much on bombalurina, how could she impose her FEELINGS on her like this, oh no oh no oh no

meanwhile bombalurina’s back in love with her even MORE and she’s also like no... she’s already dealing with so much... i don’t want to make her uncomfortable or feel unsafe in her own home especially after her recent relationship trauma... i just want her to feel safe around me...

you might think tugger as their roommate would be like “JUST KISS” but he is in fact pretty oblivious because he is self-absorbed. mistoffelees on the other hand..

eventually they do have a big confession of feelings after demeter has a bad day and it’s very dramatic and they make out in the rain. and it’s like. well this is a movie scene. but also im cold and damp. let’s head inside our home and get warm and dry :)

and then they go inside and and talk through everything, all their feelings (not just their romantic feelings but like ALL their feelings) and their shared histories and bombalurina is like “do you think you’re... ready for a relationship right now? like that would be a good thing for you?”

and demeter considers it. she does stop and think. and then she says, “with anyone else... probably not. but it’s you. and i feel so safe around you, and we’re already so close. you make the future feel more worth it. you make more days alive feel not just tolerable, but something to look forward to. and knowing you’ve loved me all this time... it’s nice. it’s good. i’m - i’m understating it so much, it’s more than nice, it’s just - it’s a lot. i wish i had noticed back then.” “hey, hey, don’t blame yourself. i’m the one who never said anything.”

anyway. everything works out, and they start dating for real :)

tugger:

bisexual. 22 years old

dishwasher at the same bar bombalurina works at. she got him the job. he keeps bugging her to teach him bartending tricks and on slow nights she will agree to

he dropped out of their four year, but he managed to secure an associate’s in communications before he dipped

trying to be an ig influencer hotboy and hopefully get modeling jobs from that but his phone’s camera sucks shit so his account isn’t really going anywhere. but he continues to post his low resolution shirtless selfies

trying to cope with being the failure son who does not have a fancy nonprofit job with a salary and healthcare by being self-absorbed and self-aggrandizing

it works about 60% of the time and 60% of the times that it doesn’t he’s able to hide it

he dropped out right around when bombalurina graduated and he was like HEY! ARE YOU LOOKING FOR A ROOMMATE WHO DOESN’T CARE IF WE LIVE TEN MILES AWAY FROM CAMPUS? WELL HAVE I GOT A SOLUTION FOR YOU: ME!

to which bombalurina (who has fooled around with him here and there and thinks he is funny little man and genuinely goodhearted, and also he has rockin abs as a plus) says munkustrap already asked me if i need a roommate and if i do to consider you, because you don’t want to move back home. in other words: yes, you little idiot

they do fool around with each other but they are both very understanding that it is strictly platonic and for fun, especially once they become roommates. they both do not desire each other for anything serious

he did have a bit of a crush on each other when they met (hot punk older girl who’s friends with his brother) but 1. it dissipated pretty quick after they fooled around for the first time because it was not a very serious crush 2. she was in the middle of being in love with demeter so she was focused on that, emotionally

he got his ears pierced a couple times in high school but bombalurina inspired him to get a couple more. she went with him when he got his nose pierced

demeter has always understood that him and bombalurina are strictly fwb, has never been an issue.

she and him like to bleach their hair together when their hair schedules line up (he bleaches his way less often then she does), but she refuses to use his fancy conditioner that keeps his hair unfried because it’s expensive, even though he tells her to go ahead and use it, please, the health of her hair is giving HIM anxiety, demeter please. please demeter

mistoffelees:

gay. 20 years old

has magic. it’s pretty good magic but again: magic is not a big deal in this concept

a bit spooky. skulks around. a bit of a bitch but also very very nice. chooses when to speak

he has postings on craigslist and fiverr about finding lost objects and people with magic. like a gig economy private detective

side job is a waiter at a fancy restaurant

sometimes he gets paid VERY well from the private detecting, depending on the client. he does ask his psychic friends (tantomile & coricopat) to give a quick glance over on some of the more suspicious clients just to make sure he isn’t finding someone who should not be found by that person.

doesn’t go to college. is roommates with his sister victoria, who’s a freshman and studying dance. moved into town with her so she wouldn’t have to live in the dorms by having a guaranteed roommate.

tuggoffelees:

the general vibe i want for these two is mistoffelees walking around town or driving around in his shitty toyota camry while tugger tags along because he’s bored and thinks this is cool as shit

the general tone of the au is “magic isn’t a big deal” except for tugger, who thinks mistoffelees’ magic and his magic freelancing is the coolest shit ever. this is mostly because he just likes mistoffelees. “there are people who can do cooler shit than me, tug” “yeah but i don’t KNOW them also theyre not as COOL as you” “you had to explain to me how instagram reels work”

idk how they met i just think tugger shows up at his and bombalurina’s apartment one day (this is when demeter has moved in but they havent moved to the 3br yet) with this dude to dash in and pick something up and bombalurina is like “uh. who’s this” “oh this is mistoffelees he’s SO GOOD AT MAGIC” [mistoffelees nods hello] “okay bye bombalurina see you at work!!!” “uh. later”

after that he just shows up a lot. sort of ambiguous if theyre dating or what for a while before bombalurina straight up asks like “hey does the dude you’re dating know we fool around” “the dude im - what?” “... the little magic guy who keeps using our hot cocoa mix. misty.” “oh. uh. we aren’t dating.” “... do you want to? because you’re kind of all over him constantly” “um. well! haha, if i wanted to, i could! haha!” “yeah get back to me on that”

tugger trying to use his ig clout to get mistoffelees more work even though 1. he has no clout 2. mistoffelees has a very stable client base. but mistoffelees appreciates the effort. the self-promo guy promoing someone other than himself... the highest expression of love...

mistoffelees is A Nonthreatening Man plus he’s pretty obviously gay so demeter is chill around him pretty quickly. when mistoffelees is over they’ll sit on the couch where demeter sleeps and watch documentaries quietly while she crochets

they both occasionally say spooky shit at the same time because magic stuff. bombalurina and tugger are both torn between “that was cool as fuck” and “god that’s unnerving”

just a lot of tugger following mistoffelees around on his jobs and mistoffelees letting him because he’s fond of him and them occasionally getting into minor peril and interesting shenanigans, but it is 90% fetch quests

i think the first time they met tugger was taking selfies in front of a hydrangea in a public park and he saw mistoffelees walk up with a shovel and start digging in one of the flower beds and he thought he was hot so he went over and offered to take over on the shoveling to look strong and masculine and he ended up digging up a skull, which mistoffelees picked up and said “thanks” and then walked away

mildly terrifying but also very interesting and tugger’s days are kind of boring and dishwashing kind of sucks as a job to do like every night and he is a person who thrives on novelty so. moth to a porchlight

i think they do start making out for fun here and there and then a while later theyre out on one of mistoffelees’ jobs and someone asks “who’s the guy with you” and mistoffelees replies “oh that’s my boyfriend, don’t worry about him” and then it’s like. “HUH? I’M YOUR BOYFRIEND?” “uh. yeah? i assumed. is that okay?” “i mean yeah of course i think you’re great! how long have we–” “oh like a while.” “oh. uh. cool!!”

they just hang out a lot. mistoffelees enjoys teasing him and enjoys his warmth and bombasticity and tugger likes watching and helping him solve little mysteries around the county because it’s always something new. they’re kind of a comedy duo. they just enjoy spending their time together and following mistoffelee’s internal magic gps to find lost dogs and lost necklaces

yeah right now this au is just vibes and just sort of. continuing forward with your days and your weeks and your months. just young adults hanging out

#cats the musical #mr mistoffelees #rum tum tugger #demeter cats #bombalurina #tuggoffelees #demelurina #chirps #bird in the hand

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