#when she said that she cannot respect a musician who does thing like that

[marked-unknown]

ok, i need to rant for a second. don’t mind it

[polyamorouspunk]

“Why Don’t You Just Move?”

A look at rural queerness and the hardcore scene.

With the recent and still on-going tragedy left in the wake of Hurricane Helene, a lot of light is being shed on southern states that make up Appalachia.

There’s a lot of misconceptions about Appalachia and the southern United States as a whole. There are a lot of good users on this website that have put a lot of effort into combating these harmful stereotypes and clearing up misconceptions.

But there’s more than just Appalachia in the south. There’s a lot of middle ground. Places that aren’t as rural as Appalachia, but places that aren’t as populated as cities like Raleigh, Richmond, Memphis, etc.

Places where people gather surrounded by other agricultural hubs.

There are queer people everywhere. In every culture, every religion, every country, in all of history, we have existed. We cannot and we will not be erased.

A common narrative that’s floated around for many years is “if red states are passing laws that are constructive to the LGBT+ community, then why don’t those people just move?”

So why don’t we just move?

I’m sure you can find a lot of well-written posts on here explaining many reasons why queer people not just in the southern states, but all over the world don’t “just move”, and one reason I’ve seen echoed over and over again is that “we have thriving communities here too”. We exist too.

How does one “be punk”?

It’s a question my mutuals and I get a lot, and a lot of us are tired of hearing it.

What does it mean to be punk?

Is it about the music? The clothes? The politics? Can you be punk if? Is it punk if you? Who? What? Where? When?

One common beginner tip to “being punk” is to find and join the local scene. This can lead to a lot of other questions, though. What is a scene? Where does one find the scene? How does one participate in the scene? Is there a minimum requirement?

Rest assured, literally no one is asking this offline.

A hardcore scene is so much more than just hardcore. A scene is a group of people where music is a common thread that builds the basis of other connections. A hardcore scene isn’t necessarily even hardcore.

“You have to listen to punk music to be punk”. Sure. But here’s the thing. In your local hardcore scene you will find: metal musicians, rappers, and more. You will attend shows with blues music, orchestras, and more.

Sometimes it’s not even music at all! Sometimes there is drag! Sometimes there are movie nights! Sometimes there are group outings!

It’s almost like… it’s just a social construct.

What is the local scene? The local scene is loud music. It’s smoking and drinking. It’s stopping by the corner store and the smoke and vape. It’s carpooling. It’s movie nights. It’s text chains. It’s group chats. It’s he-said-she-said. It’s they said. It’s AMAB enbies. It’s people who don’t care about “passing”. It’s DIY HRT. It’s she was a lesbian until she met him. It’s situationships. It’s hooking up and coming down. It’s bouncing from place to place to meet up with each other. It’s showing up someplace and seeing who’s there and waiting around to see who’s coming. It’s late nights spent partying on the weekends and back to school and work come the weekdays. It’s knowing someone by looks or name even if you haven’t put the two together yet. It’s trading socials. It’s Instagram stories and comments. It’s “DM for Address”. It’s “are you going tonight?” It’s “do you need a ride?” It’s “who else is going?”. It’s going somewhere and asking who’s coming. It’s sitting around on broken chairs and lawn furniture passing around a blunt, sharing a 24 pack of beer that 4 of you ran out to get with money you all pooled together, it’s “should we order pizza?” It’s “I brought donuts”. It’s hanging out in each other’s houses and rooms. It’s respecting the businesses that offer to house you. It’s generational friendships. It’s listening to your friends as they joke about their heritage and talk about their cultures. It’s the dog you pet when you’re sitting on the curb in ripped fishnets taking drunk selfies with your friends. It’s the man playing you the harmonica as you sit outside the THC drink bar on a Saturday night. It’s sitting out in the yard listening to someone play an acoustic set where they talk about the war and poverty and politics while you slowly get high surrounded by your friends. It’s sitting on a dock in the middle of the night fishing listening to emo music huddled together with your friends. It’s autistic people showing each other the bugs they’ve found in the dirt. It’s talking about your disabilities together. It’s shoving your friends in the pit and then holding their hands. It’s seeing the cos guys in their 40s and 50s who tend the bar and work the register calling you by whatever name and pronouns you give them. It’s all of this and so much more, and it cannot be conceptualized by one single fashion style, one single music style, one single belief system. It’s not someone calling you out because you went to Chick-Fil-A and don’t you know that’s bad, it’s not someone telling you that you’re a poser because you like Chappell Roan too or your clothes were bought at Forever 21 not thrifted and DIYed.

Everyone likes to talk about folk punk and other genres that bands like Dayz and Daze have popularized- or according to some, commodified and commercialized- but if you’re going to talk about music like folk punk, you’re going to have to respect the areas that it originated in.

Everyone want’s to talk about “local punk bands” when half the bands you’re seeing don’t even fall under the genre of punk.

Your local scene isn’t always going to be skate parks and thrash music.

Sometimes it’s the mom cooking you and all your queer friends dinner on a Friday night in her kitchen with crosses and a picture frame of her family with the quote “live, laugh, love”.

Sometimes it’s sitting around and listening to men who are old enough to be your grandfather with Vietnam Veteran hats play the blues while a pig roasts in a backyard BBQ, even though you’re in your 20s and you have blue hair and pronouns.

It’s sitting around and listening to your elders talk about how the scene used to be “back in the day”. Talk about the shows they’ve been to, the bands they’ve seen in their prime.

It’s asking what you do for work, where do you live, what brought you down here, what’s your college major?

It’s people. It’s people connecting to people. Regardless of the color of their skin. Regardless of gender or sexuality. It’s people of all ages coming together to listen to music with the idea that what you all have in common is living here and now, hating politicians, and thinking that someone should do something about the shitty state the world is in. It’s not a conglomerate. It’s individuality, and there’s no real wrong way of doing it unless you’re a Trump Supporter or a Nazi, and even then, they still have their own factions of the punk scene that are going to overlap with yours on occasion. The best you can do then is stand up for what you believe in and stay safe.

There are scenes just like mine all over this country. In southern states, in rural areas, in places that other, mainly white queers have “written off”.

So why don’t we just move?

Because this is our scene, and it’s what we make it, and in the heart of the south in the Bible Belt, we’re making it a queer-inclusive space despite what’s happening around us.

[theficpusher]

They Just Don't Know You by mukeandziamgotmelike | nr | 1306 //So, oh, tell me, tell me you won't break my heart. That you won't tear my world apart. That you'll be there when I need, cause I wanna tell them they just don't know you, they just don't know you, they just don't know you, they don't know you like I do.// -OR- Liam has been dating Zayn for months, and still, for some reason, no one approves of him. It's annoying, and Liam wishes they would stop. He doesn't know why they don't trust Zayn, but he just wants to tell them that they just don't know him like he does.

Screaming But Daddy I Love Him by Wishingforloushair | E | 21873 Harry has always tried to be the perfect Christian boy his religiously fanatic mother demands him to be. At seventeen he's never eaten fast food, drunk coffee (unless it was decaffeinated) or touched himself. That is until he meets Louis, one of the church's youth musicians. With his 'I Heart Jesus' stickers on his beaten up guitar case, his band (The Redemption Riffs), and his taste for good quality coffee, Louis' relationship with God is entirely different to Harry's, and Harry is positive that Louis is either a divine vessel, or Heaven-sent. Prepared to worship at Louis' feet, Harry is ready to learn a whole different way of worship and devotion with Louis' help. “That’s coffee,” he remarked, pointing at the dark substance in the other boy’s cup. “Yes, it is,” Louis said, taking a sip from it, his eyes fixed on Harry. “Is it decaffeinated?” Louis raised an eyebrow, putting his mug down. “Will it make you feel better if I tell you it is?” “Lying is bad.” “Then, no, it’s not decaf. I don’t drink decaf coffee because it tastes awful.” “But,” Harry swallowed, glancing over his shoulder before leaning forwards. “Drugs are bad,” he whispered.

What Side Of Love Are You On? by FallingLikeThis | T | 25000 Ever since Harry finally made the decision to come out to his mother as bisexual, she’s been foisting women on him left and right, determined it’s just a phase. But when she puts out a personal ad to find the perfect partner for her son, things really get complicated. Suddenly, Harry’s heart is being pulled in two very different directions. On one side is the sweet, caring woman he has fun with, but doesn’t know his mother chose for him. On the other is a man who seems to be his mother’s worst nightmare, but makes Harry’s heart flutter in ways he’s never felt before. When all is said and done, maybe they’ll all learn that when there is no clear path to go down, the best option is to follow your heart. A Because I Said So Au with a bisexual twist.

but daddy i love him by wanderlou | nr | 28924 Someone cleared their throat and they all turned to the person; Charles. “I cannot and will not support this marriage.” “But Daddy…I love him,” Louis pouted. Or the one where Harry and Louis are getting married and Louis' dad hates Harry. Harry does everything to try and earn his respect during the wedding weekend.

adrenaline by reveries_passions | M | 38208 “Harry Styles,” Nameless Boy who now has a name says. Louis is too busy having an internal crisis to realize the boy has just introduced himself as Harry Styles. Harry Styles, only son of Des Styles, PhD, Dean of Harvard Medical School. Harry Styles, known by everyone and their grandmother. Harry Styles, star rower. Harry Styles, youngest enrolled student in graduate school at Harvard University. Oh my god, Louis thinks, mortified. I just slept with Harry Styles. As he reaches out tentatively to shake the boy’s hand, another thought hits him. Oh my god. Harry Styles is gay. ~ louis tomlinson, college dropout, up and coming dj, and gay activist, is the notorious owner of exclusive underground gay club, adrenaline. harry styles, med student by day, partier by night, child prodigy and seemingly heterosexual son of harvard professors, is the youngest and arguably the smartest student at harvard medical school. or: a one night stand wasn't supposed to become the greatest love story of the 21st century.

Counterbalance by YesIsAWorld | E | 44777 Harry Styles loves two things: teaching ballet and racing motorcycles. Those two worlds collide when his greatest rival on the track, Louis “Tommo” Tomlinson brings his tiny siblings to Harry’s class.

your memory over me by shimmeringevil | E | 64355 Three years have passed since Louis last saw him, but all it took was a few minutes in Harry’s presence for him to be relegated to the desperate twenty-one year old that was practically begging his boyfriend for an ounce of reassurance that he still cared about him. Harry shouldn’t be here. He’s brought too many unresolved feelings with him, that Louis thought he’d never have to face. It’s Harry’s apparent apathy that’s the most difficult to come to terms with. Anger, he could handle. Regret, he would welcome. But Harry’s amiability, and carefree demeanor can only be born from indifference. He’s moved on. He doesn’t care. And that is something Louis doesn’t think he’ll ever be strong enough to face. - OR - The worst heartbreak of Louis’ life walks right back into it when his parents invite their family friends on an all-expenses-paid trip for their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. Facing a past that he tried to bury long ago, Louis learns that some people have a way of sticking with you even when they’re gone.

Of Mates and Men by bananaheathen | E | 630460 In which, Louis and Harry meet as best men for their best friends' wedding... well... sort of. Or, the one where Harry's just moved back from New York and Louis doesn't believe in romance. Or, I guess... the one where Zayn and Liam are getting married.

[alpaca-clouds]

Orpheus and the Katabasis

Another topic for mythologic geekery. Let me today talk about a topic that folks within comparative mythology actually do not really quite agree on. Orpheus and the Katabasis.

As you may know: Orpheus is not a god. He is a dude. At times a half-god, to be fair (though speaking from the perspective of Greek mythology: Who isn't really?) Actually, to be very exact for the Stray Gods fans: In some versions of the mythology he is in fact the son of Calliope and a mortal man. But given that he was actually no god and thus not venerated the basis for the story of Orpheus and Eurydice did not change that much. Within the versions we have records of the basic outline of the story shifts. Again, in some Orpheus is a half-god. In some the nature of Eurydice shifts, too. But it always is: "Orpheus is a musician who finds his muse in Eurydice. Eurydice dies. Orpheus goes to the underworld to reclaim her. He does some music. Hades likes it and lets her go. But Orpheus cannot turn around. He does. Eurydice gone. Orpheus sad." Often the myth even ends there, never explaining what becomes of Orpheus after failing.

Something that makes this myth so fascinating to me is the discussion of it was part of the Katabasis. A "trope" shall we say within comparative mythology.

I think, in fact, that this was one of the first myths where I as a kid had the "Oh, this is actually like very similar" moment. Because I read another myth and was like: "Hey, that is like with the Greek singer dude! But how can that be? They are so far apart?!"

And the myth in question is Izanagi and Izanami in the Japanese mythology. A myth that involves many of the same tropes we know from both Hades and Persephone and Orpheus and Eurydice. Woman dies. Man goes down. She cannot return to the living. Either because she has consumed part of the underworld. Or because he turns around.

And when I first read that myth with like 12 years I was like: "Huh?!"

Here is the thing why this is a topic that folks will argue about a lot in Comparative Mythology. There is the idea of the Katabasis. Aka, that one of those myths - some go even as far as speculating whether it is like even pre-proto-indo-european - that shows up again and again. Not quite as similar as it is when we compare Izanagi and Orpheus, but still the same idea.

The idea being that: Someone goes to hell/the underworld for a quest. This quest usually involves either rescuing a loved one (though this does not need to be romantic, it might also involve family members or dear friends) or obtaining knowledge of some sort (like the knowledge how to make fire). Some tropes show up again and again within that. Like loosing the ability of returning due to consuming something. Or the god/ruler of the underworld testing the respective hero, often resulting on the short term or long term death of said hero.

Now, would it show up only in myths of the Indu-European family and in a lot of them, this would not get argued about. But it doesn't. It also shows up in Pacifica mythology, in South American mytholgy and Eastern African mythology. Meanwhile it does not show up in all the myths or in some is argued whether this really is comparative (like Ra's journey through the underworld or the liberation of Ushas).

Which basically leads to two different interpretations:

This is a concept that has been around since the days of very early humans, leading the myth to be kinda passed along and adapted throughout the world.

Most humans do in fact burry their dead, making the idea of an underworld as a world of the dead very logical - and it is just a human need and want to either get a loved one back or optain knowledge. For the later it could be argued that the believe of someone who died and came back having mythic knowledge being kinda logical, given that death is the one thing we still know surprisingly little about.

Obviously I do not know the answer to which of those things is the real answer.

But I find it endlessly fascinating.

Also... just the amount of adaptions of Orpheus specifically is super interesting as well. xD

[lemonynuggets]

4,8,11,<- mark, 12<- jubilee, 20,16,11<- robin

YAY THANK YOU FOR THE ASK LEN

this is gonna be a big one so under the cut it goes + tw for mentions of death, suicide, religious trauma and parental abuse btw

Mark:

4. Does your OC have a failed friendship or relationship they still think about? What happened? Is it an unresolved regret or is there a chance for reconciliation?

Besides failed friendship attempts when he was a kid, I wouldn’t say he has any failed relationships, unless death counts. In this case let’s talk about Monroe!!

for a good portion of their lives, Mark, Robin and Monroe lived in a small town and were an inseparable trio, but when Mark and Robin got in college they moved to a bigger town and Monroe got really sick, so he stayed

they kept in contact as much as they could, but there was too much going on. This was right when they were figuring out how to get Robin out of her family’s house and Monroe was progressively getting worse. Sometimes Mark and Robin would visit him but it was too hard since they lived in different cities and they were too busy

Eventually, Monroe died, and Mark still beats himself up for not visiting more or trying to help, like he could’ve done anything…

8. What was your OC's most embarrassing moment? Does it still bother them or are they able to shrug it off?

having to read a verse of the Bible in front of all the kids at church… he still resents the pastor for making him do it (besides all the other bad church experiences), it’s one of those memories that makes you physically cringe but you tell yourself “whatever I’m 100% fine this cannot affect me at all. This is totally true”

11. What does your OC believe in? God(s)? Monsters? Love? The power of unbreakable bonds of friendship to overcome any obstacle? The ability of money to open any door? Or are they indifferent?

RELIGIOUS TRAUMA MOMENT!!! YAY

Mark was taught to believe in a christian God by his mom but he kept religion at arm’s length, he didn’t particularly believe or not, that was until they moved to said small town and started attending said church

He tells himself God isn’t real but still seeks answers from him, for as much as he hates God, it was all he knew when he was a kid

even when The Plot happens he can’t escape the notion of this one entity being behind everything and man. Does Mark blame god

Jubilee:

12. Is your OC cynical or optimistic? Who or what shaped their outlook on life?

optimistic!! Bee’s view of life is “people try to put myself down everyday, if I do it to myself then i’m gonna die” if that makes sense

they trust people until they prove themselves untrustworthy, they try until things are proven impossible, they aren’t a somewhat famous musician for nothing!!

their parents definitely had a big role on their worldview, they knew Bee would have it rough and they made sure they could take care of themselves out there

Robin:

11. What does your OC believe in? God(s)? Monsters? Love? The power of unbreakable bonds of friendship to overcome any obstacle? The ability of money to open any door? Or are they indifferent?

LET’S GIVE IT UP FOR LIVING IN A SMALL RELIGIOUS TOWN!! Robin’s family was extremely christian and, being as abusive and controlling as they are, they obviously did everything to force her into being religious too, but guess what! She always managed to escape religion dissociation style, she’s managed to detach herself from it

Fun fact: Mark, Monroe and Robin met at church, possibly the only good thing to come from that place

16. How does your OC make money? Do they have a respectible profession or work a series of odd jobs? Are they a criminal? Or do they get creative in the pursuit of coin?

working retail and selling stuff online babeyyy, she’s an artist so she sells prints, stickers and trinkets like the average art school student

20. Has your OC ever done something terrible and lied about it? Did they run away or blame someone else for it? How long did they maintain the lie and did the truth ever come out?

Once again LET’S GIVE IT UP FOR STUPID DECISIONS GEORG!! Robin has gotten into a fight and sent that fucking kid to the hospital!!

She was ready to take the blame for it but Mark took it for her bc he knew what would happen to her, the kid tried to say it was Robin but her and Mark managed to maintain the lie

and if self-inflicted terrible somethings count, she did try to kill herself once and when it failed she begged Mark to help cover it up or it would snowball into something horrible with her family, because of course they’re the kind of people that would punish someone for trying attempting suicide (I could talk about Mark’s side of this but I’m leaving this for another moment)

robin I’m so sorry for the abusive family

[mnm-inc-miles]

Joey 1/2/2023

Joey waits patiently at the bar, sipping a drink, until Moira calls him into her domain. She had requested the visit; had a favor to ask. When a hand touches his shoulder, Joey stands and quietly follows to her room.

She greets him just inside with a hug and a kiss on the cheek, “Joey, hello, how was your holiday season?”

He paces anxiously for a moment until she motions to sit, insisting. “It was good, spent it with loved ones, did some performing. How about you?”

“Well you know,” she states, pushing past the subject. Holidays were not her favorite time of year, she only brought it up to be polite. But Joey knew this so he didn’t press further. “So I have a favor, as you know. And I need my best involved.”

“I’ve always been available to help you, what’s the mission?”

“Well Joey, it’s not recon this time. You’ll be part of a team too.”

“Moira.”

“Don’t start,” she rolls her eyes, standing from her chair and moving closer to the couch were Joey sits. “Now, I have always catered to your preferences, because I knew the mission you had been involved with was a big one, and took your full focus, but there hasn’t even been crickets on that front. So it’s time to join the pack.”

“Moira…”

“It’s a small team, four of you.”

“Moira I can’t. I can’t do a battle mission, I can offer you recon service and intel gathering when I can, but…I’m not fighting anymore.”

“Aren’t you though?” Moira states, adding “and what do you call dom’s mission.”

“That’s the last one.”

She laughs, “there’s always one more.”

“Not for me, I want out. I can offer you non combat help, that’s it.” He swallows hard, knowing it will be a tough pill to swallow for her.

“Joesph, you know if you leave you can’t come back. You know how this works, it’s give and take.”

Joey would narrow his eyes, “I am offering you service, it’s limited but you have plenty of people who only perform certain tasks.” She was silent, watching him, as if she had nothing else to say. “If I leave then, am I just cut off or have I made an enemy of you?”

“You could never be an enemy, Joey. You know that…�� and she stands up, walking away from him.

“But?”

“I’m not happy. I don’t ask you for much, and I’ve provided you with anything you’ve ever needed. But leave then, if that is your wish. But don’t ask me for anything again.”

Joey stands and walks closer, his mood growing more frustrated. “You know I appreciate the help, but I did this for both of us, and you know it. I will do this mission, this time, and I ask that it’s the last combat mission you request of me.”

She spins around and smiles, “I’m glad you’ve had a change of heart.”

“Just know, Moira, that this is beginning to feel more like a prison than a safe haven. Your rules have gotten too tight, it’s suffocating and you’ll lose people that way. I know you have to see that. You have a good thing here, what you do has such a great purpose and I’m watching as you slowly throw it away.”

Moira approaches him swiftly and grabs his jaw, “Those are some very grand accusations.”

“This can’t be my life.” Joey says angrily. “I’ve shown you respect as long as I’ve known you, I expect the same in return. I’m a musician not an assassin.“

“Oh sweet Joey, my poet,” she slaps him. “Wake up. In this world you are what you’re good at.”

Fuming, he tries to calm himself, avoiding her gaze a moment as he growls, heat flushing to his cheek, “I’m not doing it anymore Moira,” as he returns her gaze he says, “I’m done.” Then turns to leave. At the door he adds, “I’m sorry you don’t like it but this was never meant to be my entire life. It’s not what I want, and it’s never what Fiona wanted.”

That last statement struck a cord and Moira enters his mind, freezing him at the door. “Let me go, Moira.”

“You cannot walk out on me, we haven’t had closure.”

“We can talk later when you’ve had time to think about what I’ve said, now let me go.” Turn around. He does. Come closer. He fights it. “Moira, get out of my head.” He very slowly drags his feet closer as she refuses to listen. He closes his eyes and pictures his worst memory. The night he lost Fiona. He’s always been fortunate that this is a memory they share.

She immediately drops control and in a slightly broken voice, says, “That was cruel.”

“Fire with fire,” he says softly. He looks at her now, inhaling deeply, exhaling. “I’m sorry, Moira. I know your life is tragic, but I can’t keep living it with you. I have a good thing going now, I can move on.”

“Lucky you.” She seethes, though the anger quickly fades to sadness and Joey’s guilt kicks in. He walks over to her and puts a hand on her hand as she sits in her chair. He kneels beside her and lets his head fall in her lap for a moment and she holds him. “You’re the closest thing to her I have left…”

“Then don’t push me away, Moira. I love you, you are family as far as I’m concerned, and if we can be on the same page…there’s no reason we can’t see each other indefinitely. I will do this last favor for you, in good faith. But please…” and he’d lift his head and look at her, eyes watering in desperation. “I can’t do this anymore, please understand that.”

“No, no…Joey, it’s…” she sighs. “It’s fine. I, I will respect your wish. I’m sure I can find someone else, I…” she stops mid sentence and sighs again. “You should go. Let me be alone.”

“Moira…”

“Joey, enough. It seems I’ve felt different about our future together, and that I’ve been wrong in my presumptions, and so be it. I’m too old to argue, honestly, I… I am just too tired anymore.”

“Let me help…”

“You can’t. Please just leave now. Good luck with your future Joseph. It is indeed a bright one. Fiona was right to place her love in you. Now, goodnight.”

Feeling uneasy but knowing he’s got nothing else to offer, Joey slowly stands, bows slightly, and leaves.

[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

💎💍TO CATCH A THIEF💍💎

Prompt: Inspired by the song: To Catch A Thief by Lovage

Word Count: Really Long, girl 😩

Pairings: 1930’s Mob! Roman Reigns x Reader

Warnings: Cursing, smut (implied), murder, manipulation.

Tagging: @ziasaph , @marlananicole , @akiko-tanaka , @nicolewoo , @saccreigns , @mindofasagittaruis , @reigns-5sos , @auawdo , @lustyromantic , @babydee17 , @yungbludjazz360

Notes: As cliche as it sounds, I’m a truly lover of music and love different genres. I love to be able to show different types of bands/ projects/ music that sometimes people might not even know exists. So this little fic is inspired by one of my favorite music projects EVER: LOVAGE (it has Mike Patton on it, so of course I would love it! The man has been my musician crush since I was 9 years old! And he’s amazing, so). Y’all know the drill loves,sorry for misspellings,english isn’t my first language (bla bla bla),check out my other stories if you’d like to(it would make your girl here very happy 😊) You can check them out on my Masterlist. Okay,now let’s get to the fun part, shall we? Hope you’ll enjoy 😉

Of course I’ve heard of them and of course they’ve caught my interest! The Reigns’s and Uso’s were one of the biggest gangsters families among the USA, who were responsible for the biggest robberies across the country.

The current rumors spreading around the neighborhood swore they were here, hiding from the authorities, in our small little town.

And I would give anything to meet one of them. As the daughter of a prostitute, my only fate was to follow my mother’s footsteps but I am more ambitious than that! The only way to prosper in life is to be completely feared. Be feared not respected as Machiavelli himself taught. And I know, for a fact that, that is completely true! Growing up in the red light neighborhood had proved to be quite the life lesson, actually. ‘Don’t trust the police’, ‘Make alliances with criminals’, ‘Trust no one’, ‘Don’t snitch’, ‘You never hear or see anything’, ‘Mind your own business’, ‘Don’t allow people to mind YOUR business’, ‘Show no emotions’, ‘Always be smarter than your enemies’, were a few of those rules. People think that, for a woman to be perfectly successful in the 1930’s she needs to be a trophy wife, nothing more than a beautiful face with zero brains and a pair of open legs to a rich husband. But they are wrong! You see, any woman can use her beauty and charm to manipulate and conquer whatever she wants, but she can only maintain that manipulation power if she’s smart enough. I’ve had the town mayor, Mr. Heyman, gift me a beautiful diamond crown (that originally was meant to be his wife’s birthday present) just with some charm and sweet nothings whispered to him. I didn’t needed to warm his bed for it, I just had to be smart enough to understand his weaknesses and say the right words! I know what I want, so I get it, and believe me when I say: I will have Roman Reigns all to myself.

Things were disappearing in my neighborhood

Once again somebody was up to no good

I saw that you were wanted, but not like I wanted you

And that's when I knew I had to be with you

And that's when I knew if I didn't, I'd be through

To end my grief I'd have to catch a thief

Your love was my relief my love is your release.

Ah! Mayor Heyman’s high society ‘charity gala balls’ (aka meet your husband’s new mistress), were the most futile yet amusing events of this town. I wasn’t a high society woman, economically speaking but again I’m good at saying the right things to the right people. So it’s no surprise to see my name in the mayor’s guest list.

I entry the big doors of the city hall wearing my most recently acquisition: an emerald green velvet dress (gifted by the Senator John), my high heels (Another gift from Mr. Smith, the banker) and my hand purse (from the all so lovely Mayor Heyman)...Speak of the Devil.

“Y/N” He greeted

“Oh, Mayor Heyman. What an honor” I smiled sweetly

“Believe me, it’s my honor, dear” He kisses my hand in an flirtatious way. And it’s a good thing I’m great at keeping my gag reflex in control.

“Oh please, I’m the one who has to thank you for always reminding little old me for your tremendously chic events. I can’t express my gratitude enough for you always having so much compassion in your heart!” I scoot closer to him, slightly fixing his tie “It is such a shame that you’re a married man, mayor Heyman, I would have loved to be your wife” I whispered softly

He gulped “I can change that” He smirked

“Oh please, mayor!” I stepped back with a offended look on my face “As a Christian woman, I cannot support divorce! That is some type of thinking that will lead us directly back to sodom and gomorrah! I can’t believe you just said that to me” I make the sign of the cross

“I am so sorry, Y/N it was not my intention-“

“I am not a prostitute or a home wrecker, mayor Heyman! I am a woman devoted to the Lord and I will not accept or tolerate that type of language or insinuations towards me!”

“I am deeply sorry Y/N, I truly am! Let me make it up to you. Here” He fastly signed a blank check “Please take this”

“I can’t” I whisper, pretending embarrassment

“Please, Y/N! It’s the least I can do. You can use it for whatever you want, no matter the price. I could never offend you! You’re such an amazing woman. Please accept it!” His pleading eyes let me know I had him hooked.

I ‘reluctantly’ accepted “Well, thank you, so much” I murmur with tears upon my eyes

“No, I’m the one who has to thank you, for dismissing my ogre behavior” He smiled “I’ll leave you now, so you can fix your makeup”

“Thank you, mayor Heyman”

Once he’s out of my sight, I can drop the naïve girl routine.

“Impressive” A deep male voice spoke from behind me

When I turn around, my knees almost failed me... it was him.

“I beg your pardon?” I ask

“The little stunt you just did with the mayor, was truly impressive. I swear that if I didn’t saw you get out of your naïve christian woman character I would have one hundred percent believed too” He smirked

“Mr. Reigns. That’s a compliment coming from you”

“You know who I am”

I shrugged “I’ve heard a few things here and there”

He gets closer to me, until our faces almost touched

“Yeah? Tell me, Y/N. That’s your name right?” He asked and I nodded

“What have you heard, Y/N?”

“How your the head of the table on your family’s business” I mumbled

“How does a woman like you, know about my family’s business, Y/N?” He walks forward, making me step back until I my back reached a closed door.

“I was raised on the streets”

Roman’s eyebrows raise in surprise “Really? You don’t seem like the streets type” He said, caressing my cheek.

“I had to learn how to be more polished if I didn’t wanted to become a hooker”

“I see” He buried his nose on my neck, inhaling deeply my perfume as his hands rested on my waist “And I imagine your perfume is also a result from a similar scene with the mayor” Roman whispered in my ear

“The senator not the mayor” I cackled

He amusingly laughs on my ear “You have friends in high places, huh?” His hands moved up, cupping my breasts through the dress

“People use what they have, Mr. Reigns” I look into his eyes “You use you intimidating strength” I squeeze his biceps “And I use my womanly charm” I batted my lashes “They’re both means to an end”

Come into my window

It's open every night

That's where I'll be waiting

I'll keep off all the lights

I'm lying on my bed

Crown jewels on my head

The loud knocks on my front door made me quickly get up. Going down the stairs I can see a tall manly figure waiting for me to come and answer. I grab my Colt 1908 Pocket Hammerless gun from the little drawer on my cupboard.

Placing my finger on the trigger I opened the door.

“Yes?” I ask harmlessly

“Mrs. Y/N?” The tall Samoan man asked

I nodded once

“My name is Jey and I’m here in behalf of Mr. Reigns”

I nodded again

“Why don’t you come and take a ride with me?” Jey coldly smiled

I'd never give you up

So come in from the cold, let your guard down

I'd hide you from the cops

Don't be frightened now my love

I'll take the life of crime, all to make you mine

The hotel room is big, fancy and very expensive by the looks of it. If I had to take a lucky guess, I would say that he’s not paying for anything in here, it is all a curtesy from the mayor.

“I’m glad you came” Roman smiles

“Did I had a choice?” I tilted my head

“No, you didn’t” He chuckled “Can I offer you anything to drink?”

“Are you going to drug me if I say yes?” I joke

“Depends on your answer to my proposal” He smirked

“Proposal?”

“Yes” Roman got up from his chair coming to stand in front of me

“You see, Y/N. You’re a very, very interesting woman. Ambitious, smart, charming, intelligent and gorgeous. You’re not easily scared, in fact, it looks like you enjoy danger” He pulled me closer to him, until our bodies were pressed together “I could use a woman like you in my business. At the gala ball you told me about your goals in life and I could see with my own eyes you successfully work your magic on every men in that room. So, what I propose to you is: come with me, I’m leaving town tomorrow and I would like for you to come with me, be a part of my team, use your looks and your brain to our favor.”

“And what’s in it for me?” I asked

“Money, power, jewels...Anything you want” He sincerely said

“What if I would like to add you to that package?” I whispered

Come in off that roof top

You're so handsome dressed in black

See you in the shadows

I'd like to see you on your back

Take this precious treasure

And I will treasure you

Roman smirked “So be it! If you want me too, then you can have me”

He leaned down, capturing my lips in a famished kiss. Pushing me down on the bed, his broad body hovering over mine, grinding, kissing, biting, panting, pounding and moaning until the first rays of sunshine from the next day peaked through the curtains...

6 MONTHS LATER

“What do you say about we take a drink, Mrs. Reigns?” Tony, my husband’s arch enemy and Capo of the Italian Mob asked

“I would love to” I smile sweetly as I hook my arm in his. Going to the back alley.

“I figured it was already time for you to leave that husband of yours for a real man, you know? And I knew you would come to me, sugar” Tony winked

“You’re right, Tony. I do need a real man” I smirked to the shadows when the gun fired.

Tony’s body fell down by my side on the dirty alley street

“But you didn’t thought you were that man, right?” I cackled

Roman’s arm circle around my waist, pulling me closer to him.

“Hello Tony” He smiled “Did you really thought you could have her?” Roman chuckled “C’mon, we both know she’s too much of a woman for you! You can’t handle it! I bet you’re regretting to have thought with your dick now, don’t you?”

“She will leave you eventually Reigns. Just wait for it!” Tony spat

I pressed my high heel on his chest wound, pressing it down and making Tony scream in agony

“You watch your mouth, you fucking fat pig! You know nothing, you ARE NOTHING! I would never leave Roman for you” I laugh “I will never leave him for anyone” I smile at him, aiming to his head and pressing the trigger right afterwards.

We'll run away my dear

Some place special have no fear

We'll even change our names

We'll be kinky, we'll be strange

I'll take the life of crime, all to make you mine

All to catch a thief

Your love is my relief, my love is your release

Your love is my relief, my love is your release

All to catch a thief

“You are perfect” Roman whispered, kissing me vigorously in front of Tony’s dead body. “C’mon. Let’s get out of here” He opened the passenger door of his Rolls Royce and I enter it.

Once we’re driving through the highway he says

“I can’t wait for us to get to the hotel” Roman kisses my hand, intertwining our fingers “I’m going to fuck you senseless” He growls

And I can’t help the happiness smile that spreads on my lips..

[thinkingisadangerouspastime]

what do you think of aang's comments in "the southern raiders" and what they meant to katara? I watched that episode recently with my sister who dislikes atla, and assessed similar things to what certain people of the fandom are saying: "aang didn't understand her", "aang was pushing his beliefs onto her", "it didn't seem like he knew her", etc. she was more fair than those people of course because she did say it was realistic that he'd be so worried since she recognizes that he does love her.

Honestly those arguments are all,, tired. They’re outdated. They’re boring. They’re wrong. They’re a result of a fundamental misunderstanding of A:TLA canon. This isn’t to say that those who genuinely, truly believe these arguments are terrible people (obviously not lmao), but somewhere along the line they had a seed planted in their mind that posits them to have inherent dislike for Aang. And honestly? I just feel sorry for them, because not understanding and appreciating Aang means their A:TLA experience really can’t be that great. But I digress!

“aang didn’t understand her”

Oh, what’s the post? Right - “Fandom once again forgets that Aang is the sole survivor of genocide.” Aang understands better than anyone else what Katara is going through*. There is a direct parallel between Aang finding Gyatso’s skeleton and Katara finding Kya’s body. I’m not going to sit here and argue which was more traumatizing (literally can’t stand when people do that) because you can’t quantify grief like that, but it cannot be denied that Aang has experienced something incredibly similar to what Katara has gone through: the loss of a close parental figure followed by finding said parent’s corpse. Not only that, but Aang and Katara both share a unique sense of helplessness intertwined with their grief regarding their parental figures’ deaths. For Katara, there are the questions of:

- what if I wasn’t a waterbender

- what if I had run a little faster

- what if I had fought against Yon Rha back then

All leading to “Could I have saved her?” For Aang, there are the questions of:

- what if I wasn’t the Avatar

- what if I hadn’t run away

- what if I had stayed to fight the Fire Nation back then

All leading to “Could I have saved him?” Both of them feel incredibly guilty on a personal level about the death of their parental figures, thus blaming themselves. Katara tries to push it off onto Zuko/the Fire Nation and Aang tries to suppress it entirely, but ultimately it is revealed how closely they hold responsibility to their chests. For Aang, it comes out in “The Storm.” For Katara, it comes out in “The Southern Raiders.” So, bullshit that Aang doesn’t understand Katara! He understands her grief better than anyone.

Also, many, many people have gone into this before, but Aang’s example of Appa being stolen was not callous/rude/etc. Appa was the last living piece of his culture. Appa is not “just a pet.” People who insist so are the actual ones being callous, not Aang. And, as Aang himself says, “How do you think I felt about the Fire Nation when I found out what happened to my people?” Aang has experienced more hurt at the hands of the Fire Nation than anyone. There’s a great meta here that delves into Aang’s experiences as the sole survivor of genocide. I don’t understand how someone could acknowledge all that Aang has lost (read: he has lost everything) and then argue that he doesn’t understand Katara’s pain. Like, what? Do you have no sense of empathy?

But most importantly, from Katara herself: “Thanks for understanding, Aang.” She says this after her initial dismissal of him. So take it from the source, my friend - Katara believed Aang understood her. Who are we to argue?

*The only exception perhaps being Sokka, since Kya was indeed his mother, too, but it is worth noting that Sokka did not have the same experience of seeing Kya’s dead body or feeling the intense self-blame that Katara did.

“aang was pushing his beliefs onto her”

It is SO funny how those SAME people have NO problem with everyone in the Gaang telling Aang to kill Ozai the finale! Y’know, when they were disregarding the pacifistic beliefs of his people in exchange for emphasizing their, ahem, more aggressive ones? SO funny! I’m laughing SO hard right now!

Heavy sarcasm, in case it wasn’t obvious. They’re hypocrites and they know it.

But, more importantly, Aang was not pushing his beliefs onto her? At all?? Tell me where in the episode Aang:

- refused to let Katara go after Yon Rha

- told Katara what she was doing was wrong

- told Katara that HE was right and that SHE needed to listen to HIM

Here’s the thing: none of that ever happened! Not only does Aang accept that Katara needs to go (see: “I wasn’t planning to [stop you]. This is a journey you need to take. You need to face this man.”), but he allows her to take Appa on her journey. Appa, the last living piece of his culture. Aang has incredible trust in Katara, and his choice to send Appa with her (essentially sending a piece of himself with her) demonstrates this fact clearly. That should end the discussion point blank, but I guess I’ll break down the lines people seem to have issues with:

1) “It’s okay, because I forgive you. [Pauses.] That give you any ideas?”

Honestly, the criticism this line gets is laughable to me. People use it to argue that Aang was being disrespectful to Katara’s feelings and?? I hate to break it to them, but you HAVE to look at the context a line is in if you’re going to judge it. That is Analysis 101: Context is Everything. This moment is used to break tension. That type of scenario is an entire literary trope, okay? A:TLA did not invent it! Shakespeare literally did it in Romeo and Juliet when he had Peter argue with musicians about something stupid after Juliet’s “death.” The whole point is to break tension before more serious scenes. In R&J, it is before the lovers kill themselves, and in A:TLA, it is before Katara leaves with Zuko to confront Yon Rha. That’s why there’s another moment just like it at the end of that scene! Y’know, Sokka asking to borrow Momo for no reason? It breaks tension! It’s a moment of respite before weighty scenes! It’s incredibly common in every form of media! This is what no Humanities classes did to some of y’all, I swear to God. So yeah, Aang was not disrespecting Katara’s feelings with this. It’s just a tension-breaker. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news for those who devoutly believed it was a sign of Aang being a Horrible Person. You were wrong, ain’t no big thing, go drink some water and stay hydrated okay darlings?

2) “I don’t think so. I think it’s about getting revenge.”

Um, a major point of “The Southern Raiders” is that Aang was right about Katara’s initial drive to face Yon Rha? It was a quest for revenge? Katara literally bloodbends, an ability she was forced to learn and essentially feels cursed to bear? Also, nowhere here does Aang tell Katara she was a horrible person for feeling angry and wanting revenge. He simply brings her attention to the reality that what she’s currently seeking is revenge. He’s worried about her. She’s his best friend! He loves her! He doesn’t want her to kill Yon Rha because he knows that for Katara to have blood on her hands from a revenge quest would hurt her tremendously. (As a matter of fact, the audience knows - or should know - this, too.) So, sorry that Aang expresses concern for her? Apparently not wanting your best friend to murder someone is forcing your beliefs onto them? Damn. Y’all are harsh these days.

3) “The monks used to say that revenge is like a two-headed rat viper. While you watch your enemy go down, you’re being poisoned yourself.” // “Katara, you do have a choice: forgiveness.” // “No, it’s not. It's easy to do nothing, but it’s hard to forgive.” // “But when you do, please don’t choose revenge. Let your anger out, and then let it go. Forgive him.”

I put all the forgiveness quotes together since people tend to complain about them as a whole. But like,, I really don’t see how this is Aang forcing his beliefs onto her? He asks her to choose forgiveness. And just speaking plainly: on an emotional level, it is better for someone to forgive than to murder. Killing someone is not easy, even if you hate that person with every bone in your body, and it will mentally scar whomever does it. Y’all know this! It’s obvious! I shouldn’t have to say it! But Aang knows this, too, and thus he doesn’t want to see Katara kill Yon Rha and perhaps kill a part of herself in the process. Katara is not a killer. I’m not arguing about whether she could have or even if she wanted to, because you know what, she admits she was tempted, but Katara is not a killer. An FMA quote is very fitting here:

“Your hands weren’t meant to kill. They were meant to give life.”

Why should Katara have to live with a man’s murder on her conscience, especially when his death would be a result of fruitless revenge? The answer is simple: she shouldn’t, and Aang doesn’t want her to. Katara is a warrior. A healer. A leader. A friend. But not a killer.

Anyways. Back to my point: Aang is not forcing his beliefs onto her here. He’s offering her another option, the option she ends up choosing, albeit she extends forgiveness to Zuko instead. And Prince Holier-Than-Thou (jk love you Zuzu) acknowledges it himself: “You [Aang] were right about what Katara needed.” Aang didn’t force anything on Katara here. He reminded her of her choices, he reminded her about the consequences of revenge, and he reminded her about the value of forgiveness. Never once did he tell her she had to forgive Yon Rha or else. And when it came down to it, he stepped aside, and he let her go, because he knew this was a journey she needed to take. So… He actually did the exact opposite of forcing his beliefs onto her! He respected her feelings and let her make her own decision! Seriously, how many pairs of anti-Aang goggles do people have to wear to genuinely believe otherwise??

“it didn't seem like he knew her”

Ohhhhhh my God this is SO close to one of the actual points of the episode! So close!! It’s not that Aang didn’t know her; it’s that Katara wasn’t acting like herself. I’ve talked about it before here and here, but Katara was incredibly consumed by her emotions in “The Southern Raiders.” It’s why she ignores Zuko the entire time before they leave on Appa! It’s why she makes that callous comment to Sokka about their mother that we know she never would have made normally! She is drowning in grief about her mother’s absence, guilt regarding her mother’s death, and anger about Zuko (she still does not trust him, and yet he can lead her to her mother’s killer; I don’t know about y’all, but that is really freaking difficult to reconcile). So when Aang compares her to Jet, it’s not a far-off description. She is acting like Jet, because she’s consumed by grief and hurt and anger and she’s not acting like herself. It is instrumental, too, that Katara isn’t acting like herself, because it makes her decision not to pursue revenge and instead offer a second third chance to Zuko even more profound. “I’m proud of you,” Aang tells her, and damn! The audience is, too! I was incredibly proud of her for finding her way out of what can be a bottomless spiral for some people. So again, it wasn’t that Aang didn’t know her. It was that Katara wasn’t acting like herself (I guess meaning… no one knew her?).

In conclusion, literally all of these anti-Aang arguments regarding TSR are exhausting and so easily disprovable. The fact that they somehow manage to live on is evidence that people just want excuses to hate Aang, plain and simple. Like, it’s so easy to just say you don’t vibe with his character? You don’t have to pull BS excuses to “justify” it? I don’t vibe with Ty Lee as much as I do other characters (although I have recently grown much more fond of her; bless the Renaissance for more Mailee content, even if some of it is just a Zukka byproduct), but y’all don’t see me twisting her sacrifice in “Boiling Rock” to make it seem like it was selfish or something (mostly because, spoiler alert, it wasn’t). Like, you can say Aang isn’t your favorite and move on instead of using the same boring rhetoric over and over and over that just makes it look like you lack critical thinking. :/

TL;DR - Aang’s comments to Katara in “The Southern Raiders” came from a place of concern. A place of wisdom. A place of love. And honestly? I think Katara realizes this, and she’s grateful to him all the more for it.

[piratewithvigor]

My first thought in regard to every band that gets played on my radio station

ACDC: Every dad’s favourite band

Adams, Bryan: Every mom’s favourite singer until Michael Buble came along

Aerosmith: haha they thought Vince Neil was a lady

Alice Cooper: he’s a Game Of Thrones fanboy and I have proof

Alice In Chains: my sister doesn’t like them because she decided AC were Alice Cooper’s initials ONLY

Allman Brothers Band: good music for dropping acid to

Allman, Gregg: That’s too many Gs for one name

Animals: House Of The Rising Sun, or who even cares

Argent: Sometimes Hold Your Head Up is really catchy

Asia: Tuesdays

Autograph: one of the members went on to be a pharmacist

Bachman-Turner Overdrive: There are just so many pop culture jokes about Taking Care Of Business that whatever I say won’t be as funny

Bad Company: with their song; Bad Company, off their album; Bad Company

Benatar, Pat: Always getting her confused with Patti Smith

Black Crowes: I like them for Lickin, but it doesn’t seem to exist outside of one shoddy video on youtube and my old CD

Blackfoot: this band name feels kind of racy

Black Sabbath: Dio was not better or worse than Ozzy; just different

Blondie: I like Call Me, but Blondie confuses me stylistically

Blue Oyster Cult: MORE COWBELL

Bon Jovi: Hello, childhood trauma, I missed you

Boston: ONE GUY. ONE GUY DID IT ALL AND NO ONE KNOWS

Bowie, David: Don’t let your children watch The Man Who Fell To Earth, or David Bowie’s will end up being the third penis they see in life

Browne, Jackson: Another musician ruined by Supernatural

Buffalo Springfield: Jack Nicholson was at the riot they sing about

Burdon, Eric: no ideas, brain empty

Bush: ditto

Candlebox: ditto once more. Who are these people?

Cars: This band feels so gay and so straight at the same time, I can only assume they’re the poster children of bisexual panic

Cheap Trick: I played Dream Police on Guitar Hero so fucking much because it was the only song anyone who played with me could keep up with

Chicago: Chicago 30 exists, but they do not have 30 albums. Fucking riddle me that

Clapton, Eric: 6 discs in one Greatest Hits is too many. That’s called “re releasing your discography”

Cochrane, Tom: For some reason, everyone thinks Rascal Flats did it better

Cocker, Joe: Belushi did it right

Collective Soul: who?

Collins, Phil: If his biggest hits were done by MCR, they would be emo anthems, but because he’s 5′6″ and from the 80s, they’re not

Cream: *Vietnam flashbacks on the hippie side*

CCR: *Vietnam flashbacks on the war side*

CSNY: David Crosby; meh

Deep Purple: THEY’RE SO MUCH MORE THAN SMOKE ON THE WATER

Def Leppard: the only music for when you’re a heartbroken bitch but also a sexy one

Derek And The Dominos: Clapton and ‘Layla’ broke up

Derringer, Rick: Tom Petty if he was from the midwest

Dio: You thought it was an anime reference, but it was me, Dio

Dire Straits: You can tell how bigoted a radio station is based on how much of Money For Nothing they censor

Doobie Brothers: I have yet to smoke weed, but I listen to the Doobies, and I think that’s pretty close

Dylan, Bob: I take back everything I said about him in my youth

Eagles: Hotel California isn’t their best song, but the memes that come from it are second to none

Edgar Winter Group: @the--blackdahlia

Electric Light Orchestra: Actually an orchestra and sound a fuckton like George Harrison

ELO: I really hesitate to ask what happens with the 7 virgins and a mule

Essex, David: no prominent memories of him

Fabulous Thunderbirds: cannot spell

Faces: Who on earth thought that was a good album name?

Faith No More: I got nothing

Fixx: One Thing Leads To Another is a damn bop

Fleetwood Mac: I ain’t straight, but I’m simply not enough of a witch to enjoy them to full potential

Fogerty, John: He got sued cause he sounded like himself

Foghat: Slow Ride slowly becoming less coherent feels like a drug trip

Foo Fighters: He was just excited to buy a grill

Ford, Lita: deserved better

Foreigner: dramatically overplayed

Frampton, Peter: a masterful user of the talk box

Free: dramatically underplayed

Gabriel, Peter: leaving Genesis changed him a lot

Genesis: if someone likes Genesis, clarify the era, because yes, it does matter

Georgia Satellites: sing like you have a cactus in your ass

Golden Earring: Twilight Zone slaps, but it doesn’t slap as hard as this station thinks it does

Grand Funk Railroad: Funk

Grateful Dead: I like their aesthetic more than their music

Great White: there are so many fucking shark jokes

Greenbaum, Norman: makes me think of Subway for some reason

Green Day: the first of the emo revolution

Greg Kihn Band: RocKihnRoll is literally the most clever album name I’ve ever seen

Guns N Roses: They have more than three good songs, but radio stations never recognize that

Hagar, Sammy: I’m still trying to figure out where he lived to take 16 hours to get to LA driving 55 and how fucking fast was he driving beforehand?

Harrison, George: He went from religious to rock, and if he had continued rocking, he would have gotten too cool 

Head East: I respect people who use breakfast foods as album names

Heart: Magic Man and Barracuda are played at least once every goddamn day. They’re not even the best songs!

Hendrix, Jimi: I have both a cousin and a sibling named after Hendrix references

Henley, Don: Dirty Laundry gives me too much inspiration

Hollies: Somehow sound like they’re both from the 60s and the 80s at the same time

Idol, Billy: he’s doing well for himself

INXS: Terminator vibes

Iris, Donnie: knockoff Roy Orbison

James Gang: too many funks

Jane’s Addiction: if TMNT had a grunge band representative

Jefferson Airplane: *assorted cheers*

Jefferson Starship: *assorted boos*

Jethro Tull: The only band to make you feel not cool enough to play the flute

Jett, Joan: icon

J. Geils Band: I requested them on the radio once and it got played

Joel, Billy: he really did just air everybody’s business like that

John Cafferty And The Beaver Brown Band: literally wtf is that name

John, Elton: yarn Elton sits in my basement, unstaring. Please someone take him from me

Joplin, Janis: Queen

Journey: Stop overplaying Don’t Stop Believing. It takes away from the rest of the repetoire

Judas Priest: literally started the gay leather aesthetic

Kansas: another fucking band Supernatural stole

Kenny Wayne Shepherd: the man confuses me to the point where he isn’t in the right place alphabetically

Kiss: Mick Mars and I will simply have to disagree on the subject

Kravitz, Lenny: runaway vibes

Led Zeppelin: Fucking fight me if you don’t think they’re the most talented band (maybe not the most talented individually, but collectively, no one comes close)

Lennon, John: My least favourite Beatle for reasons

Live: I got nothin

Living Colour: slap a decent amount

Loverboy: do you not get TURNT the fuck up to the big Loverboy hits? Who hurt you??

Lynyrd Skynyrd: Sweet Home Alabama is a Neil Young diss track

Marshall Tucker Band: no opinion

Manfred Mann’s Earth Band: VERY STRONG OPINIONS THAT THEY AREN’T GOOD

McCartney, Paul/Wings: Power couple

Meatloaf: I have nothing but respect for a man who willingly named himself Meatloaf

Mellencamp, John: voted cutest lesbian of 1987

Metallica: I liked their appearance on Jimmy Fallon

Midnight Oil: I get them confused for Talking Heads a lot

Modern English: who?

Molly Hatchet: Hollies vibes, but also Georgia Satellites vibes

Money, Eddie: DAN AVIDAN, IF YOU SEE THIS, COVER TAKE ME HOME TONIGHT

Motley Crue: Stan Mick Mars and John Corabi. They’re the only ones who deserve it

Mott The Hoople: no one loves them except for David Bowie

Mountain: props for naming an album ‘Climbing’

Nazareth: I want to make a John Mulaney joke here, but I can never come up with one

Nicks, Stevie: witch queen

Night Ranger: I get them confused with Urge Overkill

Nirvana: Kurt Cobain was the ally grunge needed

Nova, Aldo: he’s Canadian, at least

Nugent, Ted: *serves a ghost as jerky*

Offspring: nothing here

Osbourne, Ozzy: this bitch crazy

Outfield: Your Love is kind of a sketchy song, but it slaps hard

Palmer, Robert: low quality Eddie Money

Pearl Jam: *grunts in Eddie Vedder*

Petty, Tom: I have so many feelings about Tom Petty and they are all good

Pink Floyd: which one is Pink?

Plant, Robert: solo career is a crapshoot, but his voice is unparalleled

Poison: I want them to write a song called ‘Alice Cooper’

Pretenders: I want to say good things, but I have nothing to say

Queen: A doctor of astrophysics, a screaming girl, a disco queen and a diva walk into a bar. It’s Queen; they’re there to play a gig

Queensryche: neutral opinion

Quiet Riot: they got big because of a song they hated. I love that

Rafferty, Gerry: the second-sexiest sax opening in all of music

Rainbow: Ritchie Blackmore created something very magnificent

Ram Jam: one good song and they didn’t even write it

Ratt: I’m sure they have more than Round And Round, but I don’t know it

RHCP: funky, but if you have paid money to hear them, you’re going to The Bad Place (I don’t make the rules)

Red Rider: basically Golden Earring

Reed, Lou: Walk On The Wild Side would be such a cool song if it wasn’t so dull

REM: American Tragically Hip

REO Speedwagon: Props for having a dad joke as an album title

Rolling Stones: Never in my life could I imagine the drummer being named anything but Charlie

Rush: How to make being uncool the coolest fucking shit

Santana: The world needs more Santana

Scandal: There’s something really funny about The Warrior being my brother’s “song” with his girlfriend

Scorpions: Was Wind Of Change written by the CIA? Only the spotify podcast I got an ad for once could say

Seger, Bob: A different variety of Eric Clapton (frankly a better variety, but that’s just me)

Simple Minds: we ALL forgot about you

Skid Row: Sebastian Bach is prettier than all of us

Soundgarden: music that makes you feel like you dunked your head underwater

Springsteen, Bruce: my arch-nemesis. Maybe someday, he’ll find out about it

Squeeze: according to my friends, the stupidest band name ever, but they’re theatre kids, so you know

Squier, Billy: If he can make it through 1984 alive, you can make it through whatever bad day you’re having

Stealers Wheel: Yet another band who I always mistake for George Harrison

Steely Dan: my house’s nickname for the Robber in Settlers Of Catan

Steppenwolf: Either makes me think of Jay & Silent Bob, Jack Nicholson, or that time I had to cut 6lbs of onions

Steve Miller Band: when you’re in the right mood, they slap hard

Stewart, Rod: my soundtrack to summer 2015

Stills, Stephen: Love The One You’re With Is Catchy, but the lyrics are questionable

Stone Temple Pilots: the only band to write a song about goo you smear on yourself

Stray Cats: an obscene amount of merch is available for them

Styx: Supernatural would have ruined them for me too if I hadn’t been into them previously. 

Supertramp: I hunted for Breakfast In America for two years and it was worth every hunt

Sweet: I will never understand my two-month obsession with Ballroom Blitz when I was 15, but it was legit all I listened to

Talking Heads: you may find yourself in a pizza hut. And you may find yourself in a taco bell. And you may find yourself at the combination pizza hut and taco bell. And you may ask yourself; ‘how did I get here?’

Temple Of The Dog: I keep confusing them for Nazareth

Ten Years After: somehow still relevant

Tesla: not the car or the dude

The Beatles: Evokes a lot of opinions from people. Mine is that I love them

The Clash: I showed my sister the ‘Lock The Taskbar’ vine ONCE and it still kills her

The Doors: evokes teenage terror from deep within my soul

The Guess Who: Canada’s answer to confusing question-themed band names

The Kinks: kinky

The Police: wrote the theme of 2020 and everyone somehow forgot it was about a teacher resisting becoming a pedophile

The Ramones: playing all of their songs in a row wouldn’t take more than 2 hours

The Romantics: you don’t think you know them, but if you’ve seen Shrek 2, you have

The Who: If someone can explain Tommy to me, I’d be glad to hear it

The Zombies: I think they happened because of the 60s

Thin Lizzy: Could the boys maybe leave town?

Thorogood, George: blues, but make it modern

Toto: the most memed song behind All Star

Townshend, Pete: just makes me think of the end of Mr. Deeds

T-Rex: Mark Bolan is an icon

Triumph: The no-name brand of Rush

Tubes: like the yogurt

Twisted Sister: they did a christmas album and my mom does NOT hate it

U2: U2 Movers; we move in mysterious ways

Van Halen: RIP Eddie

Van Morrison: honestly, who’s named Van?

Vaughn, Stevie Ray: Steamy Ray Vaughn

Walsh, Joe: The Smoker You Drink The Player You Get

War: Foghat, but even groovier

Whitesnake: the most successful band to be named after a penis

Wright, Gary: the 90s thanks him for writing the song every movie used for the “guy sees cute girl and it’s love at first sight” scene

Yes: To Be Continued

Young, Neil: The best part of CSNY

Zevon, Warren: the album cover of Excitable Boy makes me deeply uncomfortable for reasons I don’t understand

ZZ Top: has been the same three guys since 1969. Lineup unchanged. 

3 Doors Down: They feel a little modern to be on a classic rock station, but whatever

38 Special: Why 38?

[johns-prince]

Let's play the speculation game and say McLennon was real. Going with the common idea that Paul dumped John in India, wasn't the "let's all be friends, write together and go on double dates with our wives" angle Paul seemed to hope for completely delusional? Why would someone with John's issues stick around and celebrate Paul's happiness with someone else after being downgraded?

I have great respect for Paul's decision of not being John's nanny/handler for the rest of his life. But I've always been annoyed by his inability to let the man go for good. Paul, you've made your choice, my friend. Enough with the sad songs about not being called back or turning up on John's doorstep with a guitar when the he was spending time with his own family. People hate that but some things in the world really are black or white. You can't have it both ways.

Why speculate when we know it was and is real 

Alright so, let me try to unpack my thoughts cohesively get ya tinfoil hats on y’all;

If we go with the theory that during 1967, when Paul and John were practically living together and conjoined at the hip, taking LSD together and sharing those intense and intimate experiences that even Pau’s girlfriend Jane had become envious of— John had come to the realization of what he wanted, finally acknowledged it and came to accept it. 

So in India, John tried to confront Paul about their relationship and their “relationship,” and openly admit to Paul that he wanted more, that he was now willing to leave Cynthia and Julian for a life he truly wanted or desired, and that included Paul (but to what extent is what we debate I guess) 

And now that I’m thinking about it, we also know John was sort of beginning to spiral downward in 1968. It was obvious his marriage with Cynthia was at it’s end, and he didn’t want to work on it anymore. He was surrounding himself more with druggies, an unsavory crowd that Cynthia really didn’t approve of (Yoko was part of this crowd) and he was actively pulling away.  

I think John was realizing that, he just wasn’t happy. That, putting everything he had into becoming one of the most successful musicians in the world, to become bigger then Elvis Presley, didn’t make him happy. It didn’t fix what needed fixing in him, what needed addressing. He was still drowning despite it all. 

So you’ve got the trip to India, the boys going in hopes that perhaps the Maharishi Mahesh Yog and his spiritual teachings would somehow give a new perspective on things, produce the answer that would save the band (save John and Paul) from what appeared to be an inevitable downfall. But as we know, that isn’t what was needed. 

John and Paul needed to talk. The lack of consistent communication between them for years and years, and the fact John needed a therapist, he needed rehab. So did Paul, during the White Album era. 

I don’t believe Paul dumped John, but I do think John could have easily misconstrued Paul taking a step back and not willing to just go blindly, impulsively jumping off a theoretical cliff with him, as being rejected. We know Paul had to sort of take the position of ‘think before you leap’, to be more conscious of the actions and decisions he and the others decide to take, and how it would effect them as individuals, and especially them as a band (because frankly the others wouldn’t) and we know that John could be incredibly impulsive, only thought of the consequences after the fact. That, and who’s to say such a proposition and confrontation from John hadn’t scared Paul? Got him feeling those insecurities of his own crawling up. 

Paul wanted a traditional family, he wanted to have a wife and children. But Paul also wanted John, he wanted and loved Lennon-McCartney, and he didn’t think (or he’d hoped) him getting married and having a family would really change anything between them (because John got married and had a kid and they were still able to do go and do whatever they wanted together, so what was the difference—) that he could still keep what he had with John, that they could still stay together after The Beatles split. Get around to writing that musical, and grow old together still writing and making music, still creating together.

How I see it, is that Paul wanted to have his cake and eat it too.

Paul, being fine with keeping the status quo between them, it was safe and enough (right?), but John vehemently wasn’t fine with it anymore, and it wasn’t enough for him. Nothing was enough for him, as we know; John was a very all-or-nothing individual, and expected complete devotion and love from someone, because receiving less felt like rejection and abandonment was only around the corner. This way of feeling and thinking for John was only exasperated by the drugs, his alcoholism, and his spiraling mental health. 

Paul could have tried compromising with John, and John still could have taken that as a complete rejection of his feelings and what he wanted, and what he had hoped and thought Paul also wanted. 

I believe Paul probably didn’t even know himself what he had done wrong, or that he did anything wrong. I don’t think Paul believed he was downgrading John to anything either.

If only they had talked.

Then they returned from India, and the rest as we know it...

“To me, a summary is something like: “gifted, disturbed boy with tremendous amount of drive to outrun a bad childhood discovers love for music and creative soulmate(s) and gives everything he has to become the most famous musician in the world, hoping it will make him happy. He does, but it doesn’t, and people who don’t have his best interests separate him from his friends, his creation and creative spark, and ultimately himself. He’s too screwed up by addiction, mental illness, and unaddressed traumas to change things, so he retreats further into addiction and mental illness, wishing he could somehow regain his lost spark. He makes a few halfway steps toward doing so, but they’re not enough, and ultimately he is killed in front of his apartment building where, 24 hours later, his wife installs the man she had been sleeping with behind his back.”"

— Michael Bleicher, The Artist as a Dissipated Man: Fred Seaman’s “The Last Days of John Lennon.”

Right, so both John and Paul made their choices in life. Some choices and decisions that we as fans and outside observers might never be able to understand, or agree with.

But who’s to say Paul (and John), couldn’t, didn’t, or don’t regret those choices and decisions? 

I get what you’re saying, I understand. Why can’t Paul move on? He made his choices, why is it 40, 50 years later, that Paul can’t just let John go? Let sleeping dogs lie, all that.

Because Paul loved John, still loves John, to this day. 

Because, clearly Paul has some regrets. He regrets how things were handled during the Divorce. He regrets not hugging John enough. He regrets not telling John, when he had the chance and time, that he loved him (and without the help of alcohol) When you love someone so deeply, and suddenly, without warning, they’re taken from you and the world, you regret a lot, and you miss what could have been, the ‘What if’s.’ 

Paul said that what he and John were, were soulmates. I don’t know how it feels to lose a soulmate. I don’t know if I’ll ever get to know how it feels to get the opportunity to love and be around them. 

How awful do you think it is to meet your soulmate, but you cannot freely love them? Can’t just, be, with them? Not in just one way, bestmates, legendary partners, but, as everything that the word Soulmate brings along and includes with it? 

That God decided to have them be of the same sex, during a time where it was illegal to love and be with someone of the same sex, and could even be a potential death sentence to be assumed or thought of as a ‘queer.’ 

So, you take whatever you can with them. 

Then that isn’t enough. One grows restless, desperate for more. It can’t happen, not realistically, not without consequences of varying degrees. 

Strain, miscommunication to none. They communicate through a musical, artistic language which just isn’t enough. Drugs, alcohol, mental illness and emotional turmoil, it’s all too much. It breaks. Soulmates are still flawed human beings. 

You have people who work to purposefully pin them against each other. Parasites and piggybackers. 

A nasty divorce and breakup between two lovers that never were.

And then, after ten years, it’s happening. You two are talking again, things are tense and awkward still sometimes, but something’s changed. You’ve planned on reuniting, couldn’t do it this year, because the studio you wanted was booked. So you plan for after the New Year. 

Then, your soulmate is killed. Just, taken away from you, like nothing. Violently and suddenly. And all the possibilities... The time... Gone. Ripped away from both of you.

I can’t blame Paul for not letting go. I can’t say I’d ever be able to understand the sort of pain and heartbreak he experienced. He still goes through it! It’s still there. He’s just learned how to manage it a bit better. 

I’d say it’s more pathetic then it is annoying— and I don’t mean it in a way to insult Paul. I really don’t. Because John was just as pathetic when it came to his obvious obsession, desire, and love for Paul, too. 

Love, that kind of soul-deep love, it can make you pathetic and hopeless. And it’s not something you can just... let go for good. 

Wanting, or expecting Paul to let go of John for good... Firstly would be impossible, and secondly, how do you let go of a soulmate? John is a part of Paul, whether some like it or not. Can’t really have one without the other. 

Can’t have Lennon without McCartney, and vice-or-versa. Forever intertwined, are they.

[path-of-my-childhood]

Taylor Swift: Pop Star of the Year

By: Jonathan Dean for The Sunday Times Date: December 27th 2020

Rather than hunker down, the singer put out two albums in 2020 and won over new audiences. She’s the pop star of the year.

Taylor Swift met Paul McCartney in the autumn for a big interview in Rolling Stone. The two would have headlined Glastonbury this summer. Who knows if they will do that next year. Anyway, both recorded albums in lockdown, working from home like the rest of us. When they spoke, though, Swift had a secret. As well as Folklore, released in July, she had a follow-up record in the pipeline — Evermore, which was released this month.

Swift noted that the former Beatle was still so full of joy. “Well, we’re just so lucky, aren’t we?” he said. “We’re really lucky,” Swift replied. “I can’t believe it’s my job.” And she is right. Being a pop star is an extraordinary way to earn the living she does. But rather than accepting luxury and letting this tough year tumble on, Swift is also keenly aware what music means. Sad songs soothe, happy songs make us dance, but as fans of most artists waited for something — anything — this year, this 31-year-old released two albums that broke chart records, were critically adored and introduced her to people who once thought that she wasn’t for them.

“I’m so exhausted!” she said to the American chat show host Jimmy Kimmel, laughing, a few weeks ago, when asked if she had a third new album planned. “I have nothing left.” In addition to Folklore and Evermore, she filmed a TV special and even started rerecording her back catalogue, after a volatile dispute over who owns her work. By October I’d just about cobbled together my first sourdough loaf.

A decade ago Swift moved firmly into the limelight thanks to a squabble with Kanye West entirely of the rapper’s own making. In 2009, when Swift — then a nascent country music star — won the best female video award at the VMAs, West stormed on stage, grabbed her microphone and said that Beyoncé should have won. Swift was 19 — West was 32 — and she looked scared. This wasn’t just about her biggest moment yet being stolen, but also about her position in the pop hierarchy being questioned, very publicly, from the off. She stood there as that man bullied her. Apparently she left the stage in tears.

Years later West released Famous, with its infamous lyric “I feel like me and Taylor might still have sex/ Why? I made that bitch famous.” The alt-folk singer Father John Misty also wrote about sleeping with her. Every time that sort of thing happened, a powerful man in Swift’s industry was reducing a successful, talented, younger female to the level of a sex object. It was back-in-your-box belittling — as it was when a TV host groped her. (She successfully sued him.) While Swift herself would retort to West, as her music became less country, more slick pop, such retorts felt forced and gave the rapper too much of her oxygen. A nod to him on Folklore comes with the “Clowns to the West” line, but it is a sideshow now, not a headline.

Not that Swift’s life is entirely her own. She’s been one of the world’s bestselling female artists for a decade, coupled with curiosities such as a well-orchestrated relationship with Tom Hiddleston that kept her in the spotlight. Like many twentysomethings, Swift spent her youth apolitically, only to receive flak for staying silent during the 2016 US election. This year she endorsed Joe Biden, but what if she had wanted to stay quiet? Would the media have let her? She is under so much scrutiny that, after she made an innocuous hand gesture in a recent TV interview, similar to one women make to draw attention to domestic abuse, this headline ran: “Some people think Taylor Swift is secretly asking for help in her latest interview.”

Like many at the start of the pandemic she felt listless. The world we were used to was a wasteland, and we could only find the energy to watch Normal People. Swift’s ennui, though, was, well, swift. Stuck in LA, she emailed Aaron Dessner of the beloved beardy indie band the National to see if he fancied writing with her. No fool, Dessner said yes and, mere weeks later, the duo — with help from Swift’s regular collaborator Jack Antonoff as well as Justin Vernon, from the beloved beardy indie band Bon Iver — released Folklore. The gang just carried on working and, five months later, gave us Evermore.

Creativity is not on tap. Indeed, this year is not one for judging what others may or not have achieved. However, the silence of many big pop stars is striking because they know that even a single would make someone’s day; distract for a while.

Everyone needed to adjust to working from home, but Swift was one of the only musicians who did and, by eschewing the arena pop of recent albums for something more subdued, organic and folky, she gave the sense that she was letting fans in more than ever. She was at home, like us. This is who she is, and the first single from these sessions was so cosy, it was even called Cardigan.

“I just thought, ‘There are no rules any more,’” she told McCartney. “Because I used to put all these parameters on myself, like, ‘How will this song sound in a stadium?’ If you take away the parameters, what do you make? I guess Folklore.”

Maybe it is tedious, for a deft writer with a career of varied, brilliant songs — Love Story, I Knew You Were Trouble, Blank Space — to find respect from some people only when artists who appeal to middle-aged men start to work with her. On the other hand, pop has never been particularly welcoming to many until it sounds like something you are used to and, with delicate acoustics and gossamer-like piano, Swift’s two new albums recall, sonically, Nick Drake or Kate Bush. Thematically, lyrics seem to come from anywhere. Daphne du Maurier, for one. Even the Lake District and its poets.

Some songs are personal. She is dating British actor Joe Alwyn, and on one track she sings, “I want to give you a child.” Make of that what you will. But these records’ highlights are not about herself, but others. “There was a point,” she told Zane Lowe on Apple Music, “that I had got to as a writer, [where I was only writing] diaristic songs. That felt unsustainable.” Instead, she does what the best writers do and mixes subjective with objective. The Last American Dynasty is a terrific piece of writing about the socialite Rebekah Harkness, who lived in a Rhode Island house that Swift bought and was, by all accounts, a bit scandalous. Swift tells her story almost with envy. Imagine, she seems to say, that freedom.

“In my anxieties,” she said in Rolling Stone, “I can often control how I am as a person and how normal I act. But I cannot control if there are 20 photographers outside in the bushes and if they follow our car and interrupt our lives.”

Then there is Epiphany. The first verse is about her grandfather, who fought in the Second World War; the second about frontline workers in hospitals now. Sung in a high register, it is suitably choral. Marjorie, on Evermore, is even better. It is about her grandmother, an opera singer who died in 2003. “What died didn’t stay dead” is the repeated line, and it is eerie, gorgeous. Swift sings how she thinks Marjorie is singing to her, at which point some vocals from the latter’s recordings waft in. Touching, but the real power is in Swift writing about vague memories of a relative who died when she was young. “I complained the whole way there,” she sings. “I should’ve asked you questions.”

In person she is warm like this, and funny. When Kimmel told her there were far more swearwords on Folklore and Evermore than previous records, she replied: “It’s just been that kind of year.” She is also odder than people realise. In the way pop stars should be. Obsessed by numerology, she wrote, on the eve of her birthday when announcing Evermore: “Ever since I was 13, I’ve been excited about turning 31 because it’s my lucky number backwards.” When I turned 31 I just wished to be 13 again, with all that youth, but then, maybe, she is just joking. “Yes, so until I turn 113 or 131, this will be the highlight of my life,” she said. “The numerology thing? I sort of force it to happen.”

Swift, of course, is far from the first pop star to become public property, or have a close bond with fans. This year, however, she was one of the few to show that such adoration is not one-way. She is, simply, a fan of her fans — from planting secrets in her artwork and lyrics, to recording two albums of new music as a balm for them when real life became too deafening.

“One good thing about music,” sang Bob Marley. “When it hits you, you feel no pain.” The 80.6 million who streamed Folklore on its first day will attest to that idea. So will the four million who bought it. Swift is pop star of the year, no doubt — leaving her peers in her wake, on their sofas, rewatching The Sopranos.

[sidsinning]

Baker x Prince AU! Strap in, because this was a process to come up with.

P.S. I was really self-indulgent with the cheesy shoujo aspects I put into this please forgive me. Also, as I said before in a previous post, I made Adrien just the teensy-tiniest bit of a yan. What can I say? I’m sort of weak for that type.😩👌

-Adrien is a prince and Marinette is a baker’s daughter.

-She tags along with her dad on one of his deliveries to the castle and wanders into the gardens, where she meets Adrien.

-The two hit it off right away and become the best of friends.

-Marinette visits the castle as often as she can to see Adrien, and because she loves seeing all the different types of clothing the upper classes wore (she wants to be a modiste (dressmaker) when she grows up, though she is also interested in mens clothing).

-The two fall in love throughout the years, but don’t know about the other’s feelings. Marinette knows she’s in love with Adrien, while he doesn’t realize he’s in love with her. All he knows is that she’s an “irreplaceable existence” to him.

-Marinette starts visiting the castle less and less, due to their respective responsibilities only growing. He is always super happy to see her though.

-Adrien is engaged to marry a woman from the higher class, Kagami Tsurugi, who he chose himself. Marinette visits even less. Adrien misses her a lot.

-Because Adrien has no freedom as a prince, he dons a mask and becomes “Chat Noir” at night. Plagg, his fighting teacher, helps him with this, but only if he agrees to keep his identity a secret because of rumors, scandal, dirtying the crown’s name, etc.

-Somehow he’s become a renowned vigilante because wow are the streets filled with crime and he’s not just going to sit back and watch while criminals go wild.

-While he’s on the run from a group of men he “handled”, he unknowingly happens upon Marinette’s balcony. Marinette sees him and is about to scream but sees that he’s injured. She helps him hide from the men and patches him up.

-MARICHAT BALCONY HANGOUTS FTW

-Adrien takes full advantage of his identity as “Chat Noir” in order to spend more time with her, and unsurprisingly, falls even more in love with her.

-He flirts with her constantly, but much like in canon, she never takes him seriously.

~More under the cut because this is a j o u r n ey~

-Adrien Agreste is someone who is used to not getting what he wants. His mother died when he was young, leaving only his cold father as his source of parental affection. All he does is listen to his father’s commands, and all the activities he does are solely to live up to people’s expectations for a princes’ talents and accomplishments.

-He does not have many social interactions other than formal gatherings to discuss politics and superficial fluff with aristocrats. Aside from Marinette, his closest friends and companions are Nino, a castle servant, and Plagg, his fighting teacher. 

-Adrien has long accepted his fate as a puppet to the crown and to his father. He only has one thing, one person he will never give up; Marinette Dupain-Cheng. As long as she was by his side, he was content.

-Adrien knew he would be arranged to marry someone someday. He sees marriage as nothing more than a lifetime transaction. Out of all the candidates he is presented with, he chooses Kagami.

-Kagami has all the makings of a perfect wife. She’s multi-talented, competent, loyal, beautiful, and genuinely got along with him. These were the main factors that made him choose her out of all the others, but what really stood out to him was how similar she looked to/reminded him of Marinette.

-Marinette Dupain-Cheng has known that she’s been in love with Adrien Agreste for a majority of her life.

-Since she was little, she’s dreamed of being with him forever. It didn’t help that he was literally a prince in a castle. Although it fueled her childhood fantasies, as she matured, she grew to resent that part of him more, because it is what kept them apart, and showed how impossibly different they were.

-She lost more and more hope as the years went by, and visited the castle less, though there was never a moment when she didn’t long to see him.

-She hears of his engagement to Kagami, and knows he chose her himself. She is heartbroken, and decides to move on once and for all, losing any hope she had left.

-While trying to sort out her conflicting feelings, she walks to a nearby river where she meets Luka. He sees how sad she is and plays her a tune on his mandolin to lift her spirits up. It works to calm her down a little.

-Luka is a traveling musician and the brother of her friend Juleka. She’s only heard of him in passing in their conversations.

-She visits the stream more and more to see him. He in turn visits her bakery as often as he can. They grow feelings for one another, though Luka’s feelings for her are stronger.

-While talking with Chat Noir, she tells him she is trying to move on from her first love. He is taken aback by this information and feels as if a rock was just placed on his stomach.

-She tells him she has something going on with a local musician, and soon plans to take the first step forward. She is still not over her first love, but wants to give herself a shot at happiness. The feeling in his chest only grows darker and deeper with every word.

-Oddly enough, it never occurred to him that Marinette could be by anybody’s side other than his own. She was a constant in his life that he never thought would change no matter how far apart they were from each other. He can’t comprehend a future without her.

-Imagining her future with someone else, holding hands, kissing, getting married, having kids, leaving him- he hated it. He hated all of it.

-Adrien is not allowed to be selfish. So naturally, that feeling manifests itself here, because the one thing he truly wants in his life is about to slip between his fingers. Just the thought of her leaving him forever remains. Whatever actions he takes next are to solely stop that from happening.

-Adrien doesn’t understand how to work through his emotions in a healthy way because of how much he’s had to shut off and disassociate from them his entire life. They only come out when he’s around his friends, especially Marinette.

-What Marinette is to him cannot really be explained in words. Just saying romantic partner or friend didn’t seem to be enough. Both categories seem unfulfilling to him.

-He decides to pursue her as Chat Noir.

This became so much more dramatic than I intended it to be but at least it’s out now asdfghjklkjhgf

[picsofsannyas]

Osho says. Hein Steff, there is nothing wrong in being homosexual.

BELOVED MASTER, I AM HOMOSEXUAL. I FEEL TERRIBLY OPPRESSED AND STRICKEN BY THE STIGMA OF HOMOSEXUALITY. IT SEEMS FALSE TO ME TO COME HERE TO FIND A WAY TO COME CLOSER TO MYSELF AND AT THE SAME TIME NOT TO HAVE THE COURAGE TO SHOW MYSELF THE WAY I AM. THEN I WANT TO RESIGN AND RETURN HOME SO THAT I DON'T HAVE TO THINK ABOUT IT ANY LONGER. WHAT CAN I DO?

Hein Steff, there is nothing wrong in being homosexual. You need not feel guilty about it. One certainly has to go beyond sex, but that is as much applicable to heterosexuality as it is applicable to homosexuality. Heterosexuality or homosexuality are just styles of the same stupidity! You need not feel guilty.

In fact, looking at the population of the world, homosexuality should be supported. At least you will not be increasing the population of the world, you will not be loading the earth more. It is already loaded too much. Homosexuality should be valued, respected -- it is pure fun! Heterosexuality is dangerous. And what is wrong? If two persons are enjoying each other's bodies, nothing is wrong. It should be their concern; nobody else's business to interfere.

But the society is continuously interfering in everything; it does not leave anybody any privacy. It enters in your bedroom too. Your society is not a free society. It talks of freedom and democracy and all that rot, but it is pure slavery. It is a big prison. And your priests and your so-called God are all Peeping Toms. They are all looking into your private lives, what you are doing. It should be nobody's business.

What is wrong in loving a man or a woman? Two men can love each other, two women can love each other. Love is a value in itself. And fun should not be condemned. Life is already such a burden, such a drag, such a boredom. Leave at least something in life so people can feel a little less bored.

Here you need not feel afraid to show yourself the way you are. My whole approach is to help you to be the way you are because that is the only way to help you transcend it. Feel guilty and you will remain the same. Guilt never transforms anybody.

And homosexuality is such an innocent phenomenon. Why is it so much condemned? The reason is that if it is not condemned, the fear is that almost everybody will turn homosexual because every child has the tendency. Every child passes through the stage when he is homosexual. Every boy, every girl, passes through a time when boys like boys and girls like girls. The fear is that if many people turn homosexual -- and particularly in the past when the population was not big and every society wanted more numbers because numbers meant power.... To allow homosexuality was dangerous; it had to be condemned, absolutely condemned, so much so that in a few countries it is the greatest crime.

For example, in Ayatollah Khomeiniac's country, Iran, it is one of the greatest crimes. You can be imprisoned for your whole life or you can even be sentenced to death, just for being homosexual. It seems absolutely absurd, ridiculous, but in the past there was some reason in it. Every society wanted to be more powerful. It was a constant struggle -- a struggle between groups, struggle between tribes, struggle between clans -- the deciding factor was your number, how many you are. If people become homosexual, then the population will decrease; hence it has to be condemned as the greatest sin.

It may have some meaning if you think of the past, but in the present it is absolutely meaningless. In fact, the whole situation has become just the opposite: now heterosexuality is the danger; less numbers are needed. If humanity goes on growing this way, then we cannot support humanity, we cannot live any longer. By the end of this century the population will be so much, the poverty will be so much, that there seems to be no way out except a third world war which will kill almost everybody -- so that a few people can start the whole story again.

I have heard a story, a twenty-first century story: The third world war has happened, and a monkey is sitting on a rock taking a sunbath. A female monkey comes with an apple and gives the apple to the monkey. And the monkey says, "My God, are we going to start it all over again?"

Homosexuality is condemned because there is every possibility that if it is not condemned many more people will turn towards it. The inner tendency is there in every person. In fact, the person who is against it... the more he is against it, the more he has the tendency. Deep down, unconsciously, he knows it is there. To repress it he has to be very much against it; he feels disgusted by the very idea.

But nobody is telling HIM to become homosexual. If others feel attracted, then it is not your business to interfere or to condemn them. It is their freedom, and they are not doing any harm to anybody. It is a harmless game -- stupid, certainly, but not a sin. But as far as stupidity is concerned all sex is stupid, for the simple reason that it is a biological urge and you are not the master of it, you are just a victim.

And you need not be so much worried about it, Hein, because homosexuality has a very beautiful origin: it originated in the monasteries. It is something religious! The first homosexuals were monks and nuns -- Christians, Buddhists, Jainas; all great religions have contributed their share to it. It was bound to be so because there are monasteries even now in existence where no woman has ever entered.

In a Catholic monastery in Europe, Mount Athos, for one thousand years no woman has entered; not even a six-month-old girl has been allowed to enter in. What kind of people are living there? A six-month-old girl and they are afraid even of that! What can they do? But repressing sex creates fear, so the whole monastery is full of men; and homosexuality is a natural by-product if only boys are together or only girls are together.

Religious people have contributed greatly. Educationists have contributed greatly, because boys have to be educated separately. They have to reside in different hostels specially for them and girls have to stay aloof in separate hostels, in separate schools. If you put too many girls together they are bound to become lesbians, because when the sexual urge takes possession of them and they cannot find a boy, then anything is better than nothing.

In zoos even animals turn homosexual -- only in zoos, remember. In their wild state they don't become homosexual. There is no need -- females are available. But in a zoo, if females are not available, they become homosexual. A zoo is worth studying. I used to study zoos because the zoo gives you many indications about human society. The human society is a big zoo because everything has become so unnatural.

Go to a zoo and watch the animals and you will be able to see many things. They become homosexuals; they never become homosexuals in their wild stage. They are FORCED to become homosexuals. They go crazy, they become insane, mad. In wild states they never become insane. No animal ever becomes mad in his wild state; he remains sane. But his sanity needs a little freedom.

A lion has a big territory in his wild state, miles of territory, and he is the king of the whole territory. In a zoo he is in a small cage. If you go to the zoo you will see the lion walking up and down the cage, up and down, up and down, the whole day. It can drive anybody mad. He needs freedom, he needs a certain territory. In such a small space he is overcrowded. He becomes angry, enraged, violent.

Many diseases never happen in the wild. For example, no animal suffers from tuberculosis or cancer, but in a zoo animals suffer from tuberculosis and cancer. Strange! In the wild there are no medical facilities for them and in the zoo every kind of medical facility is available. Doctors are there to look after them, great doctors, doing something great! What they cannot take care of on their own -- cancer, tuberculosis -- doctors help them with. Animals become victims of illnesses which they have never known before.

Human society has been so much forced to live in unnatural circumstances -- and the monastery is one of the most unnatural circumstances. It is a zoo, a religious zoo! Homosexuality was born there, so you need not feel very bad about it. You are a religious person! And you have a great lineage of homosexuals....

If you look for homosexuals you will be surprised. Many poets, many authors, many painters, many musicians, many dancers, many great people, many creative people, were homosexuals. Many Nobel Prize winners have been homosexuals.

And don't be worried about enlightenment either, because at least one homosexual I know has become enlightened -- Socrates; he was a homosexual. And there are suspicions about Jesus. I cannot prove it, they are only suspicions -- because he always moved with the boys. Those twelve apostles... who knows? But if he was, nothing is wrong in it. Socrates was certainly a homosexual. Plato was, Aristotle was. Greeks are great people!

One American girl was going to marry a Greek. The mother was very much worried. She said, "Wait! If you can avoid this marriage...." The girl was mad. She said, "No. He looks so beautiful, just like a Greek god!" The mother said, "I know, but after only a few days you will know he is nothing but a goddamned Greek! And one thing more," the mother said, "if you marry this man then remember one thing: never turn your back towards him, never! Whatsoever happens sleep on your back the whole night!" The girl got married. She insisted, and soon she found the mother was right: the Greek god was nothing but a goddamned Greek! And she was also puzzled because he was always trying to tell her, "Why don't you turn over?" -- but she wouldn't turn over; she was also stubborn! After six months all efforts failed. The Greek said, "Listen. If you don't turn over you are not going to have children ever." Then the girl had to turn because she wanted children. The Greek played a logical trick.

Greeks have been homosexuals for centuries. All their great people have been homosexuals. So you need not worry -- you have a great history behind you! Walt Whitman was a homosexual -- one of the greatest poets of all the ages. There seems to be something in homosexuality that makes people creative, or creative people homosexuals. There is something in it and I can see the point. When you stop creating children, your creativity takes new turns, new dimensions. You create poetry, you create painting.

And the people who have been condemning homosexuality for ages are also condemning it for one more reason. As far as the man/woman relationship is concerned it is always on the rocks, because man cannot understand the mind of the woman, the woman cannot understand the mind of the man. They are poles apart. That is their attraction, but that is also their conflict, constant conflict. If homosexuality is allowed, accepted, the fear is that many people will settle into it because a man can understand another man more easily -- they have the same mind. And women can understand each other more easily -- they have the same mind.

That's why homosexuals are called "gay" people. They are really gay! The heterosexuals look so sad. Whenever you see a couple you can immediately know whether they are married or not: if they are sad they are married, if they are looking dull and dead they are married. Marriage kills all joy for the simple reason that it creates so many conflicts. Hence all societies have condemned homosexuality, for the simple reason that if it is not condemned, what will happen to reproduction? In the past it had some meaning, but now it has no meaning.

Now the day has come when homosexuality CAN be accepted, should be accepted as a natural outlet of your sexual energies. I am not against it, I am not for it either. I am simply saying that if you have to live your sex you can choose your style, you are free to choose your style. If you decide to be stupid, at least you should be given the freedom to choose what kind of stupid you want to be! I give you total freedom.

My effort here is to help you to go beyond it, so if you are homosexual you have to go beyond homosexuality, if you are heterosexual you have to go beyond heterosexuality. And there are other people also who are neither, who are autoerotic, autosexual. They have to go beyond their autoeroticism. Man has to transcend sex, whatsoever kind of sex it is, because unless you go beyond your biology you will never know your soul. But meanwhile -- before you go beyond -- it is your freedom to be whatsoever you want to be.

You say, "I am homosexual. I feel terribly oppressed and stricken by the stigma of homosexuality."

There is no need to be "terribly oppressed." You must be accepting people's condemnation. Deep down somewhere you are also against it; otherwise, why feel oppressed? If people are against, let them be against! You need not declare to everybody that you are a homosexual. You need not move with a flag that you are a homosexual! You can remain a homosexual. Of course, you cannot hide it because your sex style changes your body language. The way the homosexual walks is totally different from the heterosexual; the way he talks is totally different. And he looks so gay, so happy!

So you will have to remain a little less happy, that's all. Don't look so happy, and walk a little more consciously, that's all. Don't feel oppressed and don't feel stricken by the stigma of homosexuality. That is all nonsense! And you say, "It seems false to me to come here to find a way to come closer to myself and at the same time not to have the courage to show myself the way I am."

What courage are you talking about? Here there is no question of courage. If you are homosexual you are homosexual! Here it does not need courage to declare it. Here you can write on your shirt, "I am homosexual." Nobody will take any notice of it. People will say, "So what?"

This is a totally different world. Here we accept all kinds of people: sane, insane, crazy -- we have no objection. Unless you start harming others we have no objection. And homosexuality is a harmless game, absolutely harmless. But you think that this is courageous that you are declaring that you are a homosexual. Here it is not; anywhere else it will be. And I will not suggest that you declare it anywhere else; there is no need. Why brag about it? Accept it silently, relax into it.

But you wanted to say it because it is boiling within you. Don't be worried what others say. Just look within yourself, what you are saying to your own homosexuality. You are not at ease with it. The society has corrupted you, contaminated you. The society has given you ideas. It has created a certain conscience in you and that conscience is pricking, continuously feeling hurt. Now you say, "Then I want to resign and return home so that I don't have to think about it any longer."

Just by going back home you will not be getting rid of it. Neither you will get rid of homosexuality nor will you get rid of the stigma or the feeling of being oppressed. You will have to drop your conscience that has been created by the society in you. You will have to understand yourself and clean yourself of all ideas imposed by others; only then will you be able to relax.

You ask me, "What can I do?"

Hein, don't make a problem out of it. Nothing has to be done about it. I don't tackle individual problems. My whole approach is that there are millions of diseases, but there is only one cure, and that cure is meditation.

You meditate -- homosexual, heterosexual, bisexual.... You meditate. You become more still and more silent. You create inner emptiness. You become more transparent, and then things will start changing. You will be able to see what you are doing to yourself. If it is right you will go on doing it with more joy, with more totality, with more intensity, with more passion. If it is wrong it will simply drop, just like dead leaves falling from a tree.

So I cannot suggest any specific method because to me all the problems are arising because we have become minds and we have forgotten that deep down there is a space within us which can be called no-mind. Entering that space, no-mind, will give you perspective, vision, clarity.

Meditate. Sit silently watching your thoughts -- homosexual, heterosexual, whatsoever they are, it doesn't matter. You watch, you become the witness. Slowly slowly, a distance will be created between you and your thoughts. And one day suddenly, the realization that you are not your mind. And that day a revolution has happened within you. After that day you will never be the same again. A transcendence has happened. After that, whatsoever you do is right; you can't do wrong then. And before that, whatsoever you do is wrong. So when I say I have nothing against homosexuality I am not supporting it, remember. I am not saying, "Be homosexual." I don't have anything against heterosexuality either, but I am not supporting heterosexuality. I am not supporting anything. These are all mind games -- and you have to go beyond all the games.

Your mind is created by the society.

Fifteen-year-old Bobby was running out of a theater where he had just seen a porno movie. The manager stopped him. "Why are you in such a hurry?" "My mother told me," said Bobby, "that if I ever looked at anything bad I would turn to stone -- and I have started!"

Two members of London's exclusive Explorers Club were discussing a mutual friend over large brandies and soda. "Well, I'll be damned," said the first old boy. "You say Parkhurst has gone to Africa and married an ape?" "Quite so, old man." There was a pause and the first clubman asked in a discreet tone, "A female ape, naturally?" "Of course," came the reply. "There is nothing queer about old Parkhurst."

The mind functions as an agent of the society within you. To go beyond mind is to go beyond society. To go beyond mind is to go beyond the whole history. To go beyond mind is to go beyond past. To go beyond mind is to enter into God. And then whatsoever happens is good, is virtue.

Osho.

The Dhammapada: The Way of the Buddha, Vol 10

Ch. 12. Question 3.

[365days365movies]

April 9, 2021: Some Like it Hot (1959) (Recap: Part One)

If there was ever a movie more hyped than this one...

Ever heard of the American Film Institute? Well, according to them in 2000 (recent, I know), this is the funniest comedy...period. At the time, anyway. That beats Tootsie (getting there), Dr. Strangelove (love it), Annie Hall (also loved it), Duck Soup (classic), Blazing Saddles (classic, topical, and fantastic), M*A*S*H (maybe later this year), It Happened One Night (maybe next year), The Graduate (later this WEEK), and...THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN Airplane! IS NUMBER 10? You CANNOT be seri...yeah, OK, you know where I’m going.

Anyway. Yeah, so, maybe AFI has Oscar syndrome, because that’s a little bullshit. So, uh...how about the BBC? In 2017, they asked 253 film critics ACROSS THE GLOBE what the best comedy of all time was, and number ONE was Some Like it Hot. Other than beating Airplane! again, it also beat Groundhog Day, Monty Python’s Life of Brian and Monty Python and the Holy Grail, This is Spinal Tap, The Big Lebowski, and His Girl Friday, and...well, every comedy you can think of. This movie CANNOT be that funny.

...Can it?

But there’s more to this film than that. Apparently, it was made without the approval of the MPPDA, which means that it wasn’t Hays Code adherent! Damn! In fact, this film was partially responsible for its collapse about 6 years later! But what is the Hays Code? Well, briefly covered, it was a set of standards laid out by Will Hays and his Motion Picture Produces and Distributors of America, or the MPPDA. It was enforced in the mid 1930s, and stood firmly in place until 1968, when it basically disappeared.

So, what are these standards? Well, there are a lot, but in a nutshell:

No cursing or taking the Lord’s name in vain in any way.

No nudity, real or suggested. And sex is kind of OK, if consensual and between a man and a woman ONLY. But, they can’t be in bed together, and they can only kiss one time, IF one of them isn’t a villain.

No weddings, no wedding nights, and barely any reference to marriage.

No prostitution, or what was called “white slavery”. Yes. Really.

Oh, also, no weird race-mixing stuff. What’s a “civil rights”?

Buuuuuuut...don’t insult any races either. Of course, considering the time period, “insult” or “offense” is probably subjective, so...fuck that, I guess.

PRIESTS ARE HOLY AND CANNOT BE MOCKED

No guns, fire, American flags, murder, smuggling, drugs, hanging, electrocution, or...law enforcement?

No childbirth, seen or inferred, and no naked kids. I mean...that’s common sense, to be completely fair.

NO RACE-MIXI-oh. Oh, I said that already, didn’t I? Well, OK, I’ll pare it down a little. They can’t have sex, but I guess...looking at each other is OK? Yeah, yeah, we’ll go with that. I’m progressive!

That about covers it. And this movie wasn’t adherent to it? Oh...well, I am excited! Let’s jump right in! SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap (1/2)

The whole thing starts with a bang; literally. It's Chicago in 1929, smack dab in the middle of the Prohibition Era, and a group of gangsters are smuggling some alcohol inside of a coffin, while riding in a hearse. The cops aren't fooled, ad a shootout takes place between the gangsters and the cops, but they eventually drop off as the group takes the coffin into a funeral home. At the funeral home, a man named “Toothpick” Charlie (George E. Stone) meets with Mulligan (Pat O’Brien) a detective who’s got Charlie as his informant. With his help, he makes his way into the funeral home, actually a speakeasy in disguise.

Said speakeasy is run by “Spats” Colombo (George Raft), and within the speakeasy is a massive party, which the partygoers call a funeral. Spats arrives there shortly afterwards, and Mulligan watches all the while. Also at this party is a group of dancers accompanied by a band, which contains two partners, ladies’ man and sax player Joe (Tony Curtis) and anxious double bassist Jerry (Jack Lemmon).

The two talk about what they’re going to do with their upcoming paycheck, with Joe planning on using it for gambling on dog races. Jerry is understandably worried about this, as they owe rent, but Joe rattles off other things that he might was well worry about.

Suppose you got hit by a truck. Suppose the stock market crashes. Suppose Mary Pickford divorces Douglas Fairbanks. Suppose the Dodgers leave Brooklyn! Suppose Lake Michigan overflows.

Fun fact, though: the stock market’s about to crash in a year, Pickford and Fairbanks divorce in 1936, and the Dodgers left Brooklyn in 1957, famously. Lake Michigan has not overflowed...YET. It’s actually at record high water levels, and could cause flooding around it in the next few years. So, although those middle three were DEFINITELY part of the joke...that last one wasn’t at the time. Of course, it’s actually there as a line to set Jerry up with a way to tell him that the streets are “about to flood”, as he spots Mulligan and makes him. He tells Joe, and they both quietly pack up their instruments and leave, BEFORE the ruckus is about to begin.

And begin it does, and the cops raid the place almost immediately afterwards. As the party’s broken up and people are loaded into the paddywagon (Spats included), Joe and Jerry take their chance to escape behind the cops’ backs. However, this also means that the two musicians aren’t getting paid after all. Joe’s still set on betting money on the dog the next day, and get the money for the bet by selling their coats. However, while they do sell their coats, they instead end up looking for jobs at a local music agency, run by Sig Poliakoff (Billy Gray). 

The agency is recruited by band owner Sweet Sue (Joan Shawlee) and her nebbish band manager Bienstock (Dave Barry), as they need a bass and a sax player to replace two of their own, in their band in Florida. On hearing this from Poliakoff’s secretary Nellie (Barbara Drew), the two barge into the office. However, much to their dismay, the only ones they’re looking for are women. While Jerry tries to weasel their way in, it doesn’t quite work, and they instead take a job up north for a Valentine’s Day dance. The two go to a garage to borrow a car from Nellie in order to get to the job. There, playing cards, is Toothpick Charlie with a group of men. But then...somebody else arrives.

Spats and his men arrive at the garage, and tell all of the men to stand with their hands on the wall. Joe and Jerry, however, manage to hide in the garage. And if you know anything about Valentine’s Day during Prohibition Era Chicago...then you know exactly what’s about to happen to Toothpick and the guys.

After the massacre (based upon the real St. Valentine’s Day Massacre, Jerry makes a noise and alerts the gang to their presence. This is a problem, because Spats isn’t keen on the idea of witnesses, and immediately orders the musicians killed.With a distraction caused by the still-alive-but-dying Charlie, the two manage to escape Spats’ wrath. Now needing a fast way out of town, Joe figures out a plan. See, that job, the one from Sweet Sue, is in Florida, which is far enough away that they should be able to escape. But, uh...the band is only looking for women. And so...

This is the second most famous thing about the film. Meet Josephine and Daphne, the female aliases of Joe and Jerry respectively. As Jerry realizes the difficulties of the female wardrobe (namely skirts and heels), the two walk up to the band of women, known as “Sweet Sue and her Society Syncopators.” But they aren’t the only arrivals, and the other is the MOST famous thing about this movie...

This is Sugar “Kane” Kowalczyk, the lead singer, ukelele player, and...OK, look, it’s Marilyn Monroe, and I think I need to acknowledge this now. Marilyn Monroe is an underrated talent today, but she had a hell of a lot of potential as an actress and as an individual. She had a lot of troubles, and her early death by suicide is an absolute tragedy, no matter how you slice it. She’s a talented actress and singer, and she deserves recognition for that.

SHE IS ALSO INSANELY HOT I’M SORRY I’M WEAK

Look...it’s Marilyn fucking Monroe, OK? I know, I’m a straight cissexual man, but I wanted to make a point to acknowledge the fact that Marilyn Monroe is a talent far outside of her beauty and physicality. She (and all women) deserve that much, and deserve not to be objectified by the male gaze. I genuinely agree with this, and I do understand that concept. I’ll never personally understand the female experience, but it’s my responsibility and duty as an individual to understand experiences foreign to my own, including this one.

But DEAR LORD, her physicality is not easy to ignore, now and then! I mean COME ON! The woman’s considered a standard of classic beauty to this day by many (not by all, and not by herself), and it’s unfortunately her most famous feature to nearly everybody. But, of course, Monroe got a lot of grief for her looks as well (which is bullshit), and the stress of her life sadly led to her terrible suicide. But that doesn’t mean that her beauty inside and out shouldn’t be appreciated for what it is: beauty.

ALSO SHE IS DROP DEAD GORGEOUS I’M WEAK I KNOW

See, the train agrees with me! Oh...OH RIGHT, THE MOVIE! OK, where was I. Well, Joe and Jerry agree with me about Sugar Kane, but it is the 1950′s when the film is made, so of course they do. They watch her get on, and they follow suit, meeting the women of the band, and Sugar Kane. Sugar, see, has a teensy bit of an alcohol problem. That’s not necessarily to say she’s an alcoholic, but she is admonished for it by Sweet Sue and Bienstock, also being a repeat offender of drinking during working hours. That (and men) is something that Sweet Sue doesn’t tolerate.

She’s almost in trouble that night, when her flask falls from her stocking during a performance. However, Jerry covers for her, much to her appreciation. As they settle in for the night, all of the girls (including Joe and Jerry) sleep in the same cabin, much to the, uh, frustration of Jerry, despite Josephine’s urgings to keep it together. As Jerry continually reminds himself that he’s posing as a girl, he’s surprised that night with the appearance of Sugar, who comes to thank her for her help that night. Sugar tells “Daphne” that she owes her one, and also climbs into the cot with him to hide from Sweet Sue. Jerry...that poor mother fucker.

Well, Jerry tries to ease the tension by offering some of Joe’s whisky. But more of the girls overhear this, and eventually, a massive party erupts, with all the girls mixing drinks and sharing the single space of Jerry’s bed. Joe wakes up from all of this, and tries to help end the party, only for Sugar to climb out of it, and ask Joe for help with a block of ice for the drinks.

It’s here that she reveals that she used to work with men’s bands, but joined this band to get away from men. This is especially to get away from her weakness: tenor sax players. This intrigues Joe, the tenor sax player. However, she’s essentially sworn off of tenor sax players because of multiple bad relationships, and is instead hoping to find a millionaire in Florida, preferably one with a yacht. Meanwhile, Jerry’s bed is getting a little too full, and the girls are getting a little TOO familiar. They start to tickle him, and to prevent his cover being blown, Jerry pulls the train’s emergency brake. All of the girls scatter as the train stops, and they manage to get away with the party as Sweet Sue and Bienstock wake up only then.

The train gets to Florida, and the girls make their way into a hotel. As they check in, Jerry (as Daphne) is spotted by Osgood Fielding III (Joe E. Brown), a millionaire, and a man with eclectic tastes in women. And those tastes apparently include Daphne, as he unsubtly (and unwantedly) hits on her. And Jerry’s having none of it. After Osgood pinches him in the elevator, he gets off after slapping him. Unfortunately, that makes Osgood only want Daphne THAT MUCH MORE. This man...this man may just be the legendary alpha simp of which the stories tell.

Meanwhile, Joe manages to get ahold of Beinstock’s luggage and glasses. He steals his clothes (after fending off an overeager bellboy), and uses them to dress as a millionaire. Why? Why, to seduce Sugar, of course!

This is right at the halfway point, so we’ll pick this up in Part Two! See you there!

[glittercracker]

Kingkiller Crap

So, I’ve never really posted much here that involves my own thoughts. There are a number of reasons why, but whatever. I feel the need NOW to post some thoughts, and having no working independent blog (yet!) I suppose this is the place to dump them. PSA: none of this is about anime. None of this is frivolous or fun. TW for sexual abuse. You have been warned! So. I’ve been rereading the Kingkiller Chronicles. aka “Name of the Wind” and “The Wise Man’s Fear” and “That Other One That Shall Not Be Named.” This reread was, at the beginning, almost an afterthought. A way to keep my 13 yo happy on a 7 hour car ride. Except, he could not have cared less, and I got sucked back into the story (and okay, if that is how all our audiobook car rides go, meh? At least it keeps me sharp!) I raced through book one, and bought book 2 on audible with an eye to my upcoming surgery and recooperation. Book one was problematic in the places I remembered, but also as generally engaging as I remembered. And then book 2 happened, and surgery happened, and I have had weeks to lie in bed listening to this bloody interminable sequel, and I find myself lost in a morass of, “WTF was I ever THINKING?” Namely, how did I ever love this book enough to pine for the next? It’s been hard to put a finger on exactly what is making this time through book 2 both a slog and also vaguely, creepily uncomfortable, but if you’re interested, my rather stream-of-consciousness ramble of thoughts ensues. First, the male gaze that rears its head at times in book 1 predominates here. But while I don’t love the way Kvothe describes women, I also have 2 degrees in literature, and I’m beyond that being a reason not to read an otherwise engaging book. Second, Kvothe is a Gary Stu, for all of Rothfuss’s protestations to the contrary. Again, so far, so much traditional high fantasy. But while, say, Aragorn is content to just quietly be Awesome At Everything, Kvothe is a braggy little shit of a Gary Stu: the person you hated for announcing their perfect scores in that hs class you could never quite master. I could fill several pages with examples, but for some reason what really made me want to kick him in the head was not Felurian’s disbelief of his virginity (though really, jfc, REALLY?) Nope, it was the end of his time w the Ademrae (sp may be off, remember, I’m listening not reading!) when he crows about having learned the history of his sword 2 days earlier than expected. Why does this stick out? Oh, idk. Maybe bc he sucks so hard he can’t even get past the first obstacle in his practical final exam? Yet he still has to tell us how fucking awesome he is for remembering 6000 names of previous owners.

I know, I’m supposed to forgive his teenage idiocy. The internet sympathists (no pun intended!) keep telling me this. And I suppose that I would, IF this were a simple first-person narrative - but it isn’t. Let’s repeat that, and really think about it. This story is being narrated by an older and presumably wiser Kvothe who has lost everything - whose abilities have been expunged to the extent that he can’t open his own chest of Cool Stuff. He shows humility in his actions, mostly. And yet when discussing his 16 yo self, the humility evaporates, and he speaks with no kind of perspective or lens of accrued wisdom. He still compares women to instruments waiting for the “right” player (i.e. him) and defends this choice of words by saying, essentially, “You aren’t a musician, you don’t know!”

Interesting assumption for an innkeeper in a medieval-esque world. Interesting assumption if this is in fact authorial interjection, too, because I suspect the majority of this book’s audience *are* musicians to at least an extent, and I also suspect that the majority of us (yes, us - I own several beloved instruments, including a harp custom made for me as a wedding present from my husband) would not equate a human lover to even the most beloved of instruments.

But all of this is well-trodden critical ground. As far as I can tell, though, my third issue isn’t: although it’s perhaps the most glaringly tone-deaf example of all of Rothfuss’s excruciatingly tone-deaf portrayal of his world’s women. Namely, the two girls kidnapped and gang-raped by the fake Ruh.

Almost all of the criticism I’ve read on this section of TWMF concentrates on Kvothe’s treatment of the girls’ abusers. What’s interesting is that no one ever seems to write about Kvothe’s treatment of the girls themselves. Yes, he treats them kindly. He tends their wounds, he feeds them, he tries (and succeeds, of course) to draw Ellie out of her shocked stupor. 

Yet what he never once does, from the moment he takes control of the situation, is ask their opinions on any of this, including what their next step should be. He just decides to bring them back to their families - families who, in this type of society, might well disown them for being “ruined”. And the girls themselves, namely the intelligent and savvy Krin, seem to go blindly along with what he says. Why? Would Krin at least not question this, or object to his making decisions for her, when a group of men had so recently and brutally taken away all of her agency? Would she not question whether being brought back to her family is the best thing for the catatonic Ellie?

Okay, apparently not. So they return to their apparently very forgiving town. Kvothe stands up for the girls against the village shithead: thank you, Kvothe, bc I’m sure Krin could not have said those words herself. He assures the reader that they are with people who will love and care for them despite what has happened to them: thank you, Kvothe, though it’s stretching my credulity a bit that you would assume that no one will take issue with their deflowering. But then he “gifts” the girls the spoils of his slaughter: the horses, the valuables, the wagons. And I was about to give him a (grudging) pass for being decent about this, EXCEPT: he goes on to say that these goods are meant for the girls’ dowries. Specifically, to make them worth enough financially for potential husbands to overlook their loss of virginity. He even tells Krin not to settle for a less-than-lucrative marriage.

And suddenly, I was outraged. Why? Because a man who had witnessed the full extend of these women’s abuse brought them back to a backwater town believing that he was being magnanimous both in doing so, and in giving up whatever share he might have taken of the spoils of the debacle to make them financially lucrative marriage prospects. Because he never asked these traumatized girls if they might rather cut and run with the money than use it to make some man overlook their abuse in order to make them his property. He never even questions the idea that they will be grateful to submit to marriage contracts that will no doubt require them to have sex with their husbands, even though these women have been abused to the extent that they cannot sit a horse for *two days* after being rescued. And the worst part is that 20-something frame-story Kvothe doesn’t question this either; he just goes on to gloat about people singing songs about his daring rescue. Maybe I was just ready for a straw to break my benefit of the doubt. Or maybe this really is as outrageous as it feels. Either way, I can’t help being angry at Rothfuss. As a writer, I am very well aware that character and author are not the same thing; that authorial intent is not the same as authorial beliefs. But there are moments in some books when I have to wonder if that line is blurring, and this is one of them. Kvothe has literally JUST left a female-dominated country full of independent women happily doing their own thing. He has given these girls the means to find themselves a situation that will never require them to be beholden to a man again - even houses ffs, in the shape of those 2 wagons, should they want them. There are so many options beyond marriage: I can’t, for instance, think of a medieval society that didn’t have its version of a convent. Or, for Krin at least, why not the University? For that matter, why not marry her himself, and then set her free to do as she likes under the awning of a respectable marriage? 

Instead he returns them to their fathers, and likewise gives their fathers the means to marry them off with no argument. Who, after all, holds the reins of the horses at the end? Why does Kvothe assume that these families will actually use the wealth even in the dubious way that he recommends?

And in this, I think, I am justified in giving Rothfuss the stink-eye. This is one more instance for Kvothe to play the hero with no real attention given to the consequences. Kvothe himself, I think, would be appalled. He has suffered so much deprivation in his life, so often been marginalized, scapegoated, powerless, how on earth could he so easily consign others to that fate? How could he think, loving Denna as he does, having heard her words to the beaten girl in Severin, that buying these girls husbands who will “overlook” their abuse for the sake of wealth is anything but a wretched life sentence for them?

Sigh. There was a time when I desperate awaited book three. Now, given the other women’s lives at stake in this series, I’m not so sure I want to know.

[kneamet]

Delusion (4/5)

Trigger Warning: alcohol

Summary: she was the only girl in his band whose singing he loved so much. She was the person he truly respected. Andy Miles was someone Hank Williams had an unrelenting obsession with.

Chapter Four: The Song

POV Hank

"Fred wants me to go play in Cincinnati," Williams interrupts the laughter of his friends, tightening his grip on the half-drunk bottle of lager. Taking a sharp sip, Hank closes his eyes tightly against the bitter taste and takes a sharp breath.

He doesn't want to think about what will happen when he says that he will go alone. Seeing Andy's burning and devoted gaze will be a moment for him that he will never be able to forget. The guy knew that he would be tormented by this, because he definitely did not want Miles to completely cease to respect him.

Respect is hard to get, especially from someone you truly love. So often you just want to forget about everything and become one with this person.

Hank rarely respected anyone or paid any attention to them. However, he did not care what others thought of him. No, sometimes there was a feeling in his heart that he should take everything for granted and not try to get the approval that he had been looking for since childhood, and respect, but just stop trying to do something. Perhaps it would be better to do nothing and forget about your dream.

Such thoughts often crossed Williams ' mind, but he certainly didn't want to be forgotten. There was this thin thread in him that should never break and turn his longing and desire into dreams worth forgetting.

"Yes? When?" There's genuine interest in Andy's voice. Was she really interested in the fact that he was able to break through at least somewhere? Few people in his life were interested in questioning and admiring.

His mother, no matter how much he loved her and appreciated her, just needed to show her best side, like, "look at me, this is my boy." All Audrey needed was his money, which was impossibly small and why he was trying to get on TV, and fame, thanks to which she would show her belonging to the rich world.

Every time he thought about her, Hank realized that Audrey was becoming more and more repulsive to him. And why hadn't he noticed what he was seeing before? Was he really that stupid before?

"Next week," shaking his head, Williams takes one last sip, paying attention to the people he knows, but still lost in thought.

"I'm all for it," Don says, adjusting his glasses and raising an eyebrow, looking at Hank expectantly, waiting for an answer to his earlier question.

His mind is racing with doubts about whether to continue to have a conversation that does not please him. Excitement seeps into your head, forcing you to strain your brain in search of answers.

Pushing back the wooden chair with a slight accompanying thud, Williams stands up without breaking the oppressive silence. The mind is tormented with thoughts of what should have been kept silent and not started this topic, but said before leaving.

Hank sighed as he grabbed a half-liter bottle of the chilled lager that could be found in Andy's refrigerator at any time of the day.

"Listen," Hank puts the liquor down on the table and leans against it, drawing attention to himself and shoving his hands in his pockets. Doubts eat at him from the inside, but he knows that it would be better to say it now than to put it off for later. Who was he, anyway, to screw up so often? "The thing is, Fred wants me to try playing with the other guys this time," he says with difficulty. There is a certain dryness in his throat, even after he has drunk an entire bottle.

"And what did you say to him?" Andy interjects, looking at the guy with a shrewd look, and Williams is sure that she definitely knows what he wants to say to them.

"That's up to him," Hank looks away, ashamed, his lips pursed. It had been a long time since he had found it so difficult to say something that might offend people. He was so used to his bluntness in talking to strangers that it became very disturbing to talk like this to acquaintances, and especially to his beloved.

"I don't like it," Hank shakes his head at Helms ' comment.

"Yes, me too."

"I didn't think you'd like it. But it's necessary," Hank says, opening the bottle and taking a sip, jerking his hand sharply and heading for the chair, feeling the way Andy is looking at him.

"Maybe you don't need us at all," Miles asks, playing with his hands, referring to himself and the other guys in the group. Her gaze is directed down and the guy sees how doubtful her voice is. Unsure and confused.

"Look, it doesn't mean anything. It's just that Red Foley's band is already there, and Fred wants to record us right away, " Andy Hank counters, interrupting her nonsense. What made her think he'd decided to abandon the band so suddenly? So suddenly to abandon his beloved, who had struck him in the heart?

"How lyrical that would sound," Williams thought, grinning as he lowered his head.

"And that doesn't mean anything?" Don retorted, raising his voice slightly, and Hank finds it hard to keep his temper in check. Why can't they understand that he's not leaving them, but just leaving to record a song? And would their voice have decided anything?

This is the world of show business. You'll either have to turn around or give up. There is no other way out and there will be no other way out. Either it's a lie, or you'll have to go to great lengths to become famous. Although what does famous even mean? How is this measured?

"I don't need this shit."

"Yeah, me too," he interrupts, looking straight into his eyes and seemingly pushing down the hole. Hank staunchly holds the intense gaze, but looks away, sighing loudly.

"What's he up to?" Miles intervenes again, standing up and taking a position where he doesn't support anyone, stopping a possible future argument and giving Hank an expectant look that tells him to apologize and continue.

Williams nods softly and almost imperceptibly to the girl, sitting down on the sofa and taking a sharp sip that refreshes his throat. Closing his eyes, he takes a few breaths, as if preparing to say something contradictory and indecisive.

He is grateful to Andy for suddenly intervening in their conversation and stopping the guy from wanting to snap. She's not the person Hank has been looking for for a long time. A person who can support you.

Isn't support and understanding the foundation of a relationship? Isn't that what you need to rely on when you get in touch with a person?

"I want to sing “Lovesick Blues”," Hank says, knowing that his friends might respond. His hands tremble with the pleasure of finally becoming meaningful and important to someone, even after singing a song that doesn't belong to him.

After all, since when did rehashing a song become something to blame? He'll just adjust it to suit himself.

"He's not going to like her," Don says, a little wistfully, touching the red hair that's always gelled up on his forehead. "It's not even your song," he says, his voice sounding grim, and Williams can feel his breath coming in short gasps. He does not like the words of his friend, because he understands that he is right. But why not try to get this song?

"Yes, that's right. But now it will be mine, " a mocking grin appeared on the guy's face. They will hardly understand his desire to perform this particular song, but for Williams it was a bit of a boost and an indicator of the memories that he would have been happy to dive into again. They meant too much to him.

The phrase was accompanied by silence. There was tension in the air. It was getting uncomfortable.

"I'm coming with you."

***

POV Andy

Hank was subject to the influence of others, and especially women. His mother, Audrey, even Andy. She knew that, and she knew that he could not refuse her to go with him. After all, he would hardly be able to say no to anyone.

Clenching her teeth tightly and frowning, Miles felt a subtle pain in her head and touched her temple, as if trying to stop a migraine from appearing. The pill worked badly again, although she hoped that at least her head wouldn't hurt, otherwise she wouldn't be able to help her friend with the performance.

With each treatment, she hoped that the pain would subside and the euphoria would come to their turn, but they increased and she did not like it at all.

However, addiction is something that cannot be controlled. Each time it will hurt more and you just need to accept it.

His lips tightened, and his heart began to beat in his head, trying to drown out all his thoughts with its pounding. It cut off all conversation outside, leaving only the beat of a heartbeat.

“Well, let's get started,” Hank's voice suddenly rings out, interrupting Andy's thoughts. She pays attention to it, but the rhythm is still audible and it drowns out half of the speeches.

The girl's gaze is clouded and the head is again visited by a disgusting, making you regret what you took, pain.

His lips tremble, and the excitement takes over completely. It's the first time she's going to record a record and release it with Hank, and that's the day she had to take the pills. I just had to be patient.

A slight shiver ran through her palms and she looked at them, swallowing slightly. Nothing ordinary, just fingers wrapped in a gauze bandage. It was really convenient, and she didn't understand why no one was using it.

For the musician, the most important thing was to take care of his hands, because they played the most important role in his life, in fact, being "bread and salt".

"Hank, this song is sad, it doesn't fit. It has a different rhythm. All these notes are played too long, " Fred's familiar voice says, and Miles turns his attention to the men. Rose shoves her hands in her pockets, her posture expressing some dissatisfaction with what Hank wants to do.

Andy frowns and walks over to them with a quick stride, his guitar slung over his head, his attention fully captured. Raising her hands in the air as if to show reconciliation, she looks at Mr. Rose.

"If we like a certain note, we prolong the sound," she takes a sharp breath and looks at Hank, who doesn't take his eyes off her. Was he worried that she might anger someone? Or was he just shocked that she'd gone against him? Grunting in response to his thoughts, Andy shrugs, shaking his head.

"Look, I'm on the show and I'm singing this song, I'm walking off the stage and throwing my hat back on the stage. Then I'll do an encore, " Williams says, and the girl smiles at him. A light, pleasant laugh is heard from Rose.

"Scoundrel," she can't help but grin, "knew he'd agree."

As if enduring a moment of deep thought and intrigue, Fred sighs and nods his head humbly, as if admitting defeat. Although what a defeat, if it was immediately clear that he would agree. I've probably been thinking about it for a long time.

"Okay, I'll have a cup of coffee. You both have fifteen minutes," Andy presses his lips together, a smile showing through them. After a quick glance at Hank, who was staring in disbelief at the door that had just closed.

"Thank you, sir!"

He squeezed Williams ' hand reassuringly in a tight grip, realizing how much he needed the touch to express support at the right moment.

Indirect and weightless touch was for them, as a way of not only support, but also attention. Andy knew about the difficult childhood of the guy, and because of what he so wanted to achieve recognition and fame. His dreams that he would be great and be remembered for a long time, as a person who achieved something new in music, were completely similar to hers.

"Okay, Lovesick Blues. Nothing complicated, " addressing the men who were tuning the instruments, Hank, without letting go of the girl's hand, goes to the microphone and in his usual manner moves his shoulders.

Miles can feel the excitement and the joy radiating from his friend. She knows that this is going to be the most crucial moment of her and Williams ' lives. Either they can break into the world of show business, or they will have to continue trying to sing on the radio in the early morning and be content with not getting enough sleep.

Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, Andy felt the headache slowly begin to fade and almost disappear. Was it a special, new defect that appeared, or was it just the calm before the storm and after that the stomach would start to ache violently, literally bursting, because with each reception it became more and more impossible to endure.

"Isn't all this stuff equally easy?" Asks, although it's more like a statement.

Her pupils dilated, and she immediately felt uneasy. Not only did my stomach begin to give off a slight ailment, but I also heard an insult in the direction of the song. It was unpleasant to listen to such words, so also the address of a song that is dear to her friend.

If he's not happy with the songs, why did he become a musician at all? Isn't that the beauty of music? The fact that it is diverse and everyone has their own taste in it. Everyone can choose what they want to listen to. But to say that the blues is bullshit is a very harsh statement.

"What, I'm sorry?" Her reaction was immediate. Her fists were clenched tightly, and her face was scowling and indignant.

"Andy, don't..." Hank's eyes were hopeless and pleading, as if telling her that she should clean up and calm down.

Miles looked at him, shaking her head with a sharp sigh, as if to say that she agreed not to do something she would regret later.

"I got a feeling called the blues, oh Lord

Since my baby said goodbye..."

***

An unobtrusive soft singing accompanied the rain, beating an unpleasant rhythm on the roof, but sometimes falling in time with the mumbling of an elderly woman. The knocking was not irritating, but calming.

"Are we so hungry for the old days," she sang with a small smile, swaying and looking at the little children who were half asleep.

"That we'd actually go back in time?" She continued, touching her daughter with her hand and running gentle touches through her tangled short hair.

"Good night, Andy," the woman said, her soft lips brushing her daughter's forehead. "Sleep well, Ben," her sweet lips brushed his cheek.