#it resonated with me since I work part time in a bar/nightclub

[blackcatanna]

Very obscure reference but this wine has Gunthy from Techno Banter (as yet unreleased indie club bouncer game by Dexai Arts) energy!

[buckyownsmylife]

Firestone - Steve Rogers smut

The one where Steve is your mobster boss and he’s been patiently waiting to make you his.

Warnings: smut, mob au, gunplay, dirty talk, public sex, possessiveness, oral sex (f)

Word count: 1.4k

A/N: thank you to my lovely @marziwritesfic​ for looking this over for me! I figured this would be perfect to help @cloudystevie​ celebrate 4k followers! Congrats, Jasmeen! You deserve many, many more!

“Can you bring me another one, princess?” She looked up to confirm what it was that I needed and nodded, quickly preparing my usual scotch on the rocks. I watched her with captivated eyes. She was such a hard worker, easily the best bartender I had ever employed.

But I had other reasons to like having her around.

“Care to join me for this one?” I asked after she deposited my drink in front of me. She chuckled and shook her head, used to my antics by now. We always did this, me and her, ever since she got hired to take care of the bar in one of my nightclubs. The one I started visiting much more frequently after she became my employee.

“You know I can’t.” But she laughed. I was making progress. Long were the days where she would look for any polite reason to get as far away from me as possible. Now she lingered, and I knew I was close to wearing her out.

I could wait.

“Are you sure? I know the owner!” Hearing her giggle was nothing short of extraordinary. I was always hypnotized whenever she was around, and with the way the clients seemed to drool for her, I knew I wasn’t the only one.

“You know, the second that you give me permission, I’m gonna ruin you, sweetheart.” I found myself admitting, staring hungrily at her wide eyes, following the wet trail her tongue left behind when she licked her bottom lip before questioning.

“For any other man?” The only reaction I could give to her innocence was a low chuckle, carefully watching my most desired prize for any signs of her own feelings.

“No. Just ruin you.” And as the words floated in the air around us, I got up from my booth, approaching her with calculated steps, eyes taking in every little reaction her body granted me.

“You won’t be able to walk or breathe without thinking about me, sugar,” I whispered in her ear once I was close enough to pull her by the back of her neck, her chest pressed tightly against mine, warning me of just how hard she was breathing.

“I’ll ravish you,” I continued, loving how her hands came up to grip my shirt, as if she needed to hold onto something. I’d be her anchor, I just needed her to let me in. “I’ll make you mine forever. I’ll leave you a perfect mess.”

“There won’t be other men.” Gripping her jaw, I turned her face aside so my next words were directly over her ear, lips brushing it and breath eliciting goosebumps when I said, “Ever.”

I pulled away from her to check on her expression, taking in her dilated pupils, the way she was breathing through her mouth. Part of me wanted to chuckle, thinking back on all the times she kept herself at a “professional” distance only to end up here, right where I wanted her to be.

“I know you don’t want to give in to me because I’m dangerous…” I acknowledged, softly cradling her face so I could run my thumbs over her cheekbones. “… but I think you want me precisely because of that.”

The shiver down her spine upon seeing my smirk told me everything I needed to know. So now all I had to do was wait for her to break.

“I know you like what you see,” I teased, a cocky smile on my lips now. “But you’re scared of wanting me.” Her gaze was fixed on me, eyes and body unmoving as nothing on her fought my affirmations. “Let me show you why you shouldn’t.” Slowly, I turned her around to face the table I was in, my hands softly pushing her down against it.

“Lean over the table,” I croaked, voice denouncing my desire. “Yeah, just like that.” My fingers ran down her back until I reached the edge of her jeans, easily wrapping my arms around her to open it and pull the offending fabric down her legs.

She jolted then, suddenly reminded of where we were, but I pushed her down gently, shushing her concerns. “Now, no need to worry about them,” I grinned, loving how she easily gave in to me now. “They know better than to look at what’s mine, huh?”

She looked over her shoulder as my words reached her, but I could only wink. “Besides,” I added, kneeling behind her while spreading her legs to welcome me. “I’ve been dreaming about this for way too long.”

Her underwear was easily discarded with a flick of my wrist, and then her pussy was exposed for my eyes to take, after so long dreaming about its taste. I moaned when I actually dragged my tongue between her lower lips, savoring this moment and her juices, knowing this would forever be imprinted in my mind.

“You have no idea how many times I got off to the thought of you,” I commented, humming against her cunt as she trembled beneath me. Her body awakened a hunger inside of me I’d never felt before, and I don’t think it would ever be satiated.

“You’ve seen me leave the bar with many women…” I chatted almost casually once I was able to let go of her pussy to run my knuckles over her wetness. “I want you to know I’ve always imagined it was you I was fucking, whenever I made them cum.”

Her moan resonated through the nearly empty bar, making me smile as I went back to licking her up. But as much as I wanted to keep on lapping the wetness that was starting to seep from her, I knew I had promised her something.

I had to show her why she shouldn’t be scared of me.

So I got up from behind her, paying no attention to her whines and the jut of her hips, licking my lips to gather every single drop of her taste as I got my gun from my holster. I had plans for her.

“Stay still, sugar…” I rubbed the barrel of the gun between her dripping wet lips, getting it soaked on her essence. “Let them see how well you take it. She hissed as the gun made its way inside of her, but to her point, she didn’t complain. Instead, her body slumped against the table, as if she was truly succumbing all of her to me.

The thought had me even harder, desperate to get her to cum so I could take her back to my place and have my way with her. ”Oh, you look so pretty, princess…” I almost moaned, fascinated by the sight of her tight pussy hungrily engulfing my favorite gun. “Can’t imagine how you’ll look when it’s my cock inside of you…”

“Mr. Rogers…” She whimpered, making me chuckle lightly.

“Call me Steve, sweetheart,” I was quick to address. “I got my best pistol inside of you, I think we’re past the use of titles, huh?” A loud whine escaped her then, like the acknowledgment made her even hornier, and I licked my lips at how her juices slowly dripped from her pussy down her thighs.

“C’mon, sugar. Let go for me, won’t you?” And like the perfect girl that she was, my order had her body convulsing before my eyes, her high arriving just as I thought I wouldn’t be able to keep myself from fucking her right then and there for any longer.

“You’re coming to my place tonight,” I announced, pulling my gun from her only to admire the way it now glistened, covered in her juices. My tongue stuck out almost automatically, and I licked some of her off of it, relishing in the sweet nectar I was slowly starting to ingrain in my own being.

“Still think I’d ever hurt you?” The smirk on my face was almost cocky, I knew, but I was too excited about finally having her to care. Pulling her body up, I held it against me once more, so she’d feel exactly how much I desired her, right against her back.

It was all her fault anyway.

“Go get your stuff,” I instructed. “No need to work here anymore, I’ll take care of you from now on.” And then I turned her around to look her in the eyes, cradling her face with glee at finally holding what I’d wanted for so long.

“Can’t wait to fuck you.”

[interesting-blog-name]

Björk DISCOG REVIEW Part 1

One of the most recognized avant-garde singers in the world, Björk Guðmundsdóttir is an Icelandic artist who has been releasing critically acclaimed albums since the early 90s, and an icon in the experimental music scene. I thought it’d be an exciting experience to dive into her discography to find out if her music resonates with me, and to understand what this revered singer is all about. I decided to start with her major studio albums first, then moving on to her early work with Icelandic band The Sugarcubes and whatever else she has out there.

 Debut

Björk’s properly titled debut is a wild amalgamation of sweet love songs, upbeat house music inspired by the UK’s early 90s scene, a hint of jazz, and of course, Björk’s enchanting voice. I won’t pretend to be a music university graduate or whatever, as I know close to nothing about what 90s music sounded like, what could have potentially influenced Björk on this album, nor will I try to give some sort of lecture about what is going on here; I’ll just cite what I enjoy and what I don’t, and why.

Debut feels authentic, it’s a finely crafted album, from its musical styles to its production to its songwriting. What spiked my interest immediately in it were the drums, and how fresh and varied they were; this is a very percussion-heavy album, the UK beats Björk implements are all about the infectious rhythms that enter your body and seem to control it, but even on tracks not so influenced by the nightclub life, the percussion is very good, in songs such as the opening Human Behaviour, with its fat bass drums, or the iconic, soothing Venus As a Boy, featuring tambourines, strong kicks, some rattle instrument, a prominent sampled echoing sound and a hint of bongos; these are all alongside various other rich instruments, violin passages that flow with the track perfectly, what sounds like xylophones peppering the track, all of this making this the best song in the album, in my opinion.

And when these instruments are not there, of course Björk herself makes up for it. Like Someone In Love is a beautiful ode to, well, love, comprised only of a harp, the singer’s eye-watering performance, and some ambient noise; it reminds me a bit too much of her cover of I Remember You, mostly because they’re both based on harps, but it is still very beautiful on its own. The Anchor Song is the emptiest on the record, closing the album up with some tension and overall introspection. It features only one verse from Björk sung two times, and like three saxophones? Definitely two at least, I’m not sure how they work, but it makes for a great, simplistic finisher (even if latter editions include Play Dead, a beautiful song, but not exactly fitting after the song before it).

Throughout the first handful of tracks, the pattern of “inward emotionally potent song sequenced by urban-life dance anthem, and back again” became apparent to me, but then broke after One Day did not transition into a dance track. Basically, my instant perception was that the record was this rollercoaster showcase of the hopeless romantic experience in a metropolitan, nocturnal city, and it may be, but if it is, it’s not as in-your-face as I initially thought. What catapulted these thoughts was the live version of There’s More To Life Than This, probably the most commercially-adept instrumental tune in the record, performed by Björk in a version purposefully awkward and weirdly personal, where she sings her second verse directly into a mic while the beat faintly plays in the background, fading further and further until the song flawlessly transitions to Like Someone In Love. It really makes you feel like your are at the Milk Bar, the night is packed, and Björk just pulls you into the bathroom and starts singing the rest of the song (for some reason); it reminded me of all those YouTube videos where the uploader takes a popular song, adds some background chatter, and soaks it all in reverb to give you the experience of listening to the song from the bathroom of a party. It is a distinct, creative way of spinning the original dance track around into something more, something that conveys this feeling of slight loneliness, even when surrounded by people, the central topic of the second song, Crying. The lyrics describe the big city, the huge crowds, but conversely the feeling of solitude and missing your loved one, or maybe even a place, it’s not explicitly told who or what Björk misses.

Romance is ever-present in Debut, through many incarnations. Big Time Sensuality, one of the most upbeat tracks here, is about a fresh romantic relationship, and the growing sensation of “something important (...) about to happen”, assumingly between Björk and whoever else. The house beat paints the scenario for this relationship as a club, by default. It brings you into this exciting nightlife, only for you to be pulled away immediately after by One Day, a track so cheerful it’s irresistible, and holding tight to the theme of romanticizing a loved one, then reaching Aeroplane in yet another beautiful transition. I have to admit this is the first song I don’t love in the album, I think it is good, and in the context of the album, definitely brings something new. What sets it apart is, this time around, the bongos are being used to their full extent, paired with birds chirping and a comfortable bass, incremented by occasional saxophone passages, this track ends up very tropical. After this, Come To Me is another passionate song, this time, Björk sings of comforting her partner and nurturing them, which naturally creates a super chill aura to the song. Accompanied by the violins and the lowkey guitars, it makes for a solid track, which in the context of the album I think eases the mood a bit too much, but is appreciated as a solid production, and closes out by bringing out the bongos once again, in a very nice outro (I should also note this is the first appearance of a real drum set on the album [I think]) (I should also also note the bassline sounds a little like early studio versions of True Love Waits by Radiohead, just some trivia).

Violently Happy right afterwards is the least interesting of the house tracks, with a mostly simple instrumental, and vocals Björk seeming to be compressed, or dowsed in some other effect. It’s not a standout in the tracklist to me, but the beauty of Debut is that the worst song is still solid as fuck. I think it’s a very consistent album, that delivers a unique and one-of-a-kind experience.

I didn’t expect this type of sound from Debut, but I was pleasantly surprised. It took me a while to like, but it definitely grew on me on with this 4 a.m. listening session I just had. I look forward to everything else I will listen to by Björk.

 FAVORITE TRACKS: Venus As A Boy, Like Someone In Love, One Day, Big Time Sensuality, Human Behaviour

LEAST FAVORITE TRACK: Violently Happy

 8.7/10

“Lately I find myself gazing at stars, hearing guitars like someone in love.”

 Post

Going into Post, I was aware this would be quite different from Debut. I had listened to Army of Me and It’s Oh So Quiet before, seeing as they’re two of Björk’s biggest songs, and they obviously sound nothing like the acid house beats and soft, calming ballads in her debut, and that’s what is good about it, the sudden shift from a relatively safe musical environment to aggressive, chunky electronic production in Army of Me and Enjoy, and the absolute turnaround that is It’s Oh So Quiet.

The bold production decisions are what make this album exciting and surprising, in tracks such as I Miss You, mixing a synth-line with super loud bongos and some addictive synthesized drums, and trumpets at the end of the song, or the famous use of the Locrian mode in Army of Me, creating this menacing, dissonant melody, which perfectly fits the song and serves as an appropriate intro to the album that succeeds it. But they don’t always have to be out there to be notable and great: what I can tell from around the internet is that you can ask every single Björk fan ever what their favorite track by her is and it feels like at least a quarter will answer Hyper-ballad, and (even though I’m not nearly done with her discography) I can I say it’s with very good reason, as it is an amazingly composed song; same with Possibly Maybe, an enheartened slow jam which progresses from a cute love song about desiring to be with the one she’s flirting with, to disappointment in how they treat her, to the breakup, where she states she started wearing lipstick again, sucking her own tongue in remembrance of her once lover.

The album is very love-centered, specifically focused on the desire to be physically with someone, with how Björk mentions her love interest’s touch in plenty of tracks, such as I Miss You, a song about missing someone she apparently has never been with, where she literally asks her significant other “when will I get my cuddle?”. uwu.

(also what is this cover art lmao)

Also including this thirst for deeper contact are the songs Enjoy (“I wish I’d only look, and didn’t have to touch”, “How can I ignore? This is sex without touching?”) and Headphones (”They start off as cells that haven’t been touched before, these cells are virgins”), but the subject matter isn’t always literal and spelled out, as the tracks Isobel and Hyper-ballad seem to play with the idea of a hermit lifestyle, whether it’s at the top of a mountain or in the heart of a forest, with different meanings between the two, however. In Hyper-ballad, she’s isolated from the world alongside her lover, while in Isobel, she’s completely alone, married to herself, as she says. I enjoy the theme, but I think the vocals and instrumentation, while interesting, aren’t as good as many other examples from the album, same with the track previous to it, You’ve Been Flirting Again, which employs very faint and uniform violins under some soothing yet stagnant lyrics by Björk; it serves mostly as an interlude, I suppose, but it could go a little further, in my opinion.

To end the album, Cover Me and Headphones subdue the atmosphere by a lot. They’re very toned down, the first features some really nice windy background noise, and what I think is an oud. It’s an amazing section of the album, and from what I can gather, seems to be about her own experimentation with her music, describing a journey into what I think is this very album, a big departure from Debut for sure. It then transitions seamlessly into Headphones, which, on par with its title, is a much better experience if you are wearing headphones. The buzzing bass, Björk’s nearly ASMR vocals turning into gibberish at the end, and bubbly percussion are all super pleasing to the ears, and it continues the theme of her own musical creating process, singing how her headphones saved her life, and how nothing will ever be the same; it’s almost prophetical, and definitely one of my favorite songs here.

Post is much more colorful, daring and wild than Debut, but I don’t know if I like it better than its predecessor. I feel like Debut is obviously much more comfortable and pleasing than Post, and that even though Post has amazing tracks like Hyper-ballad, Enjoy and Possibly Maybe, as an album, I’m not really feeling it as much as the last one. The sense of cohesion in the last one, and how it used the UK beats to the best of their potentials, mixing them with much more soothing tracks and beautiful vocal performances is what attracts me to it so much. I really appreciate the direction Post took, as I don’t suppose many people were doing anything close to this in the 90s or before, and it certainly has its highlights, but I think Debut just got a tighter hold of me, and I just enjoyed it more, if looking at it from a purely superficial standpoint. The experimentation here is great, but I enjoy how fresh Debut sounds slightly more.

 FAVORITE TRACKS: Hyper-ballad, I Miss You, Army of Me, Headphones, Possibly Maybe, Enjoy

LEAST FAVORITE TRACK: You’ve Been Flirting Again

 8.5/10

“This is really dangerous, cover me. But worth all the effort, cover me.”

 Homogenic

Alright shit got real.

This is way better than the last two albums, and they were amazing to begin with. But this album is insane. It’s focused, but also so loose and free. It’s an amazing experience, and I think Björk in her most comfortable style yet. She doesn’t miss the mark in one track of this album, they’re all at the very least good.

It starts off with the delirious drum patterns and violins in Hunter, and I tell you, I haven’t seen a better streak of amazing songs in an album yet: from the intro to 5 Years, all the songs between it are fucking fantastic, and that is only broken by Immature, a track which I don’t think is supposed to be much more than an interlude anyway; then it’s right back with Alarm Call.

I really don’t think I have anything to complain about in this review apart from 5 Years and Immature. On the first listen, I thought Howie B’s version of All Is Full Of Love was inferior to the original, which I had heard and loved a while ago, but I can’t even say that, because this one is perfect as an outro. With the drums gone, the track feels like a goodbye from Björk as you slowly descent from heaven after listening to this album; plus, it comes right after Pluto, by far the most aggressive song in Homogenic, with the singer yelling over her glitchiest production yet. Then it suddenly gives way to that incredible outro. Other amazing transitions include Unravel to Bachelorette, decorated by the overlapping violins, and from 5 Years to Immature. The serene, gorgeous sound of Unravel against the energetic, cinematic Bachelorette orchestra is easily one of the best moments in the album as well.

I find that whenever I find an album really good, I have problems describing why, but I promise this time I’ll try harder than when I listened to MAGDALENE. To start, Björk’s singing and the instruments backing her have never been more in harmony with each other, mainly due to Björk’s and her producers’ focus on maintaining a homogenous sound throughout the record, as its title implies, and this style is the mix of strings and other orchestral instruments (including an accordion at some points) with the odd, sometimes glitchy (All Neon Like, 5 Years, Pluto) other times fleshed out and bulky (Hunter, Immature, Alarm Call) production of Mark Bell, Guy Sigsworth, Howie B, Markus Dravs and, of course, Björk herself. Jóga and Unravel are my favorite Björk songs so far, and the fact that they come back to back, right before Bachelorette, is still crazy to me.

Alarm Call is a beautiful song about how your music impacts the world, and just an anthem of euphoria basically, which might be a little out of place surrounded by the very specific sound the album goes for, with its bop qualities and dance rhythm, but I appreciate it a lot just for how easily Björk can pour her feelings onto a track and make it work out of seemingly nowhere. This song demands happiness from the listener, and it’s extremely difficult not to give in to its groove (“I’m no fucking Buddhist, but this is enlightenment”).

In my opinion, All Neon Like is the perfect embodiment of Homogenic’s atmosphere: it’s not as brilliantly and enormously produced as the songs before it, but it is frigid and ethereal, the lyrics are sung fairy tales, continuing the genius metaphors in Bachelorette.

It’s slightly futile for me to try and dissect Björk’s lyrics one by one, but they do stand out more than in her previous records as well, even though the focus on Homogenic is mainly in its aesthetic. 5 Years is the first song that features lyrics that point themselves against someone, a former love interest of Björk, accusing them of not being able to handle her, and while Immature’s lyrics don’t go anywhere due to them consisting of a verse repeated twice, they follow the theme of abandoning a lover, and this time, the questioning is to herself, wondering how she thought her significant other was a cure to all her personal issues. Hunter, an amazing intro to an amazing album, centers its lyrics around some of the same topics as the outro in Post (Cover Me and Headphones) which describes a voyage into the unknown that was Björk’s musical endeavors at the time, her will to go the distance to create something brand new and exciting. In this intro, she compares it to hunting and bringing the food to the table. It starts: “If travel is searching and home what’s been found, I’m not stopping”. It’s fucking brilliant man holy shit.

Now that I write this, I realize, from 5 Years onward, the songs cease to be about idolizing another person, with tracks such as Immature and Alarm Bell being introspective looks at Björk and her current feelings, and Pluto being about batshit self-change. Even All Is Full Of Love, with its first lyrics being “You’ll be given love, you’ll be taken care of”, seems to be addressing more of the ambient surrounding the person than the person themselves, as if they’re a placeholder for all the angelic ambience around the listener. Maybe the song is literally about placing the listener in this scenario, who knows.

Definitely best album I’ve heard yet, and what excites me is that people praise the next album so much, I’ve never seen someone talk much about Homogenic. I literally don’t know how Björk can top this, but I’ll see.

 WORST TO BEST: 5 Years, Immature – Mark Bell’s Version, Hunter, Pluto, Alarm Call, All Neon Like, Bachelorette, All Is Full Of Love – Howie’s Version, Jóga, Unravel

 Fuck it, 10/10

“I’m a path of cinders burning under your feet. You’re the one who walks me, I’m your one-way street.”

 Vespertine

I am pleased.

This is insane, man. I think I’ll be a huge Björk fan after I’m finished with this discography. Vespertine is meticulous, it’s enchanting, it’s all-around wonderful. You can tell Björk and her team put incredible effort into this album, for it to sound as effortlessly beautiful as possible; not one idea or song here sounds forced, out of its element, or simply put bad. They unite to create one of the most astounding listening experiences I think I’ll ever get in my life.

Vespertine is proud, but introverted. As a sequel to Homogenic, it serves as its lighter half: where Björk described Homogenic as “confrontational”, “active” and “warrior”, Vespertine flips that upside down, and brings microbeats, music boxes and harps to the table. This is a very effective alternative to songs such as Jóga and Bachelorette, where the instrumentals and the singer seemed to try and outdo each other, creating these grand, empowering songs; in this album, they merge together into living, breathing and deeply personal lullabies. One of the most impressive talents of Björk is that she seems to take the identity of her album to heart, and mixes her unique songwriting and singing talents and her otherworldly personality into the project’s own personality, becoming an artform much greater than the sum of its parts.

Songs like Hidden Place, It’s Not Up To You and Pagan Poetry are Björk to the bone, with their more elaborate and ear-catching production, their humongous vocals, and would be comfortable if they were to be pulled from this album into another; however, deeper cuts such as Aurora, Cocoon, Undo and An Echo A Stain are the embodiment of this album’s aesthetic, its frigid atmosphere and tiny, fragile surroundings. They are like symmetrical, unique snowflakes when softer, or huge, arctic blue glistering caves when grander. They’re precise; stable, but at the same time would not work if they weren’t organized exactly how they are.

It’s easy to get too comfortable listening to Vespertine. The tracks are almost spiritual in a way, they convey an unparalleled bliss to the listener, and getting lost in the album is almost part of the experience. Especially in the second half of Vespertine, where things get real lowkey. Songs merge into each other, starting with the wonderful music box interlude Frosti into Aurora, which features one of Björk’s strongest vocal performances, proceeding to An Echo A Stain, a standout for its weird, suspenseful and eerie instrumental, evoking a dark vibe, it sounds like a deep underwater exploration into the darkest abysses of the ocean or some shit. The lyrics are also uniquely confrontational, they don’t portray the undying passion of songs before it, instead proclaiming “Don’t say no to me. You can’t say no to me. I won’t see you, denied.”. With all the vague and spacey lyrics, and the uneventful instrumental, it’s impressive this song progresses so well, mainly due to its weird, unsettling tone that sets itself apart from the rest of the songs. In a way, these odd and abstract lyrics mixed with the ethereal and bittersweet instrumentation remind me of some Radiohead songs, such as The National Anthem, How To Disappear Completely and Ful Stop, and I’m realizing this is a style of music I’m prone to liking.

Sun In My Mouth is not much of a standout topically or sonically to me, as it doesn’t do much to expand upon the sexuality of the album, with lyrics once again referring to inserting fingers into wherever, and closing with “Will I complete the mystery of my flesh?”, the themes seem to have nowhere to go. Heirloom depicts a reoccurring dream about Björk losing her voice, and having her mother and son pour a glowing oil into her mouth, which is a cute and artsy way of saying they’re her fuel for continuing with her craft, I guess. The lyrics don’t go anywhere with themselves after this though, but the instrumental is very creative and memorable, it creates a neat little bubble of involving, resonating synths.

Employing some heavy strings for Harm Of Will, Björk doubles down on the romance of the album, in a rather stripped-down song, with a few vocal highlights from her. It finds its place in the tracklist, I guess, although the oral sex line comes off a bit too strong for the smooth sentiment of the song.

To close Vespertine off, Unison, the longest song in the album, lays back on an ambient sample by Oval, and features one of Björk’s most unique vocal harmonies on its chorus; overall a nice, upbeat outro for a wonderful album.

I will say I felt more excited listening to Homogenic, as I think Vespertine’s romantic, sexual aura doesn’t expand into much after some of the many heavily sensual verses, while Homogenic wasn’t as tight and claustrophobic for me. Vespertine, however, was freer and left a bigger impact on me, It’s Not Up To You succeeded in making me cry. At the same time, none of the songs here felt like they didn’t belong, like they took away from the experience; every sound and line collaborates to make something bigger, something I don’t think I’ll get from many other albums in my lifetime.

 BEST TO WORST: It’s Not Up To You, Pagan Poetry, Undo, Hidden Place, An Echo A Stain, Unison, Aurora, Heirloom, Cocoon, Harm Of Will, Frosti, Sun In My Mouth

 It is a 10

“I can decide what I give, but it’s not up to me what I get given. Unthinkable surprises about to happen, but what they are, it’s not up to you.”

 Medúlla

Björk’s 2004 Medúlla is, surprise surprise, an acapella album. And to further surprise, I liked it.

After Homogenic and Vespertine, I guess there was nowhere to go but towards the more experimental. You can’t really outdo those two albums in their own game, so you gotta branch out, try different things; and trying different things is exactly what Björk excels at, apparently. With Medúlla, all that wild, bombastic or serene instrumentation her previous albums were peppered with is gone, giving way to backing vocals ranging from super deep male bass to angelic choirs, beatboxing, and occasionally an isolated instrument. The album is rooted on the most primary form of music: barely any instruments, almost no effects or audio manipulations, just many voices uniting to become one; lyrics about childbirth, the human body, oceans and, of course, love.

Listening to Medúlla is interesting because it is very familiar, while also being a completely different experience from Björk’s previous albums. Songs like Who Is It and Mouth’s Cradle are unmistakably her, while at the same time being coated with an extra layer of experimentation, and with this new direction, Björk and her team are able to channel an energy that stands shoulder-to-shoulder with some of her best production. Where Is The Line? and Oceania are intricate and complex, showing just how much can be done with only the human voice. The low male vocals and beatboxing structure the songs, the choirs in the background give them depth, all the sounds link with themselves to amount to some incredible songs.

On the flipside, however, few songs fail to achieve that, in my opinion. Desired Constellation is notably bare and empty, with few aspects to its composition. The mystical lyrics that characterize Medúlla are still here, describing Björk playing routinely with stars to form whatever she desires, but apart from that, there isn’t much to experience. Mouth’s Cradle and its successor Miðvikudags are also not of much significance to the rest of the album, as they drift from its acapella compositions by employing some pleasant, but unnecessary synths as the basis of the songs. The simpler, shorter interludes that are peppered through the album are pretty much the standard sound for this record, fleshing it out with small little vocal passages and, of course, gibberish. Show Me Forgiveness, from my interpretation, is Björk apologizing to either herself or her daughter (as implied by the last line, “The girl might live”), for letting her interior voice be drowned out by the exterior; Öll Birtan is a simple buildup to the aforementioned Who Is It, but the best of the bunch are Sonnets/Unrealities XI, the poem it may not always be so; and i say by e. e. cummings over some of the best backing vocals in the album, Vökuró, where Björk sings a traditional Icelandic song in a very intimate and gorgeous moment in the album, and Ancestors, which features some passionate, odd and intriguing growls all throughout it.

It’s remarkable what Björk came up with in this album, the mystical aura surrounding it and forming its lyrics, in particular the verses in Oceania where she takes the role of the Ocean, exploring its perspective of Earth, time and the continents, Pleasure Is All Mine, which describes motherhood and childbirth for a sublime intro, and Submarine, featuring Robert Wyatt, evoking a sense of rebelliousness and urgency. Great album.

 FAVORITE TRACKS: Oceania, Sonnets/Unrealities XI, Where Is The Line? Pleasure Is All Mine, Vökuró

LEAST FAVORITE TRACK: Mouth’s Cradle

 8.8/10

“When in doubt: give”

Outro

I postponed ths review for like 2 months or something, I don’t even know. Basically, from Debut to Vespertine was probably a one-month span of time, while it took me about double that time to actually write about Medúlla, because of what I think was a depressive episode. In the meantime, I started just reviewing shit on RateYourMusic (my username is fantaguarana, if anyone cares). I thought of stopping, I had this feeling that the whole “writing about everything I listen” thing was really forced and starting to become a chore, but now that I actually got to it, I think I notice how much it helps me organize my thoughts on music, compared to just listening to an album and never really reflecting on what it really means.

I’ll probably stop writing about everything I listen to, and leave this blog for the albums that really change me as a person. Have a good day yall.

[likecastle]

Witcher Noir AU, part 6

More Witcher noir AU, following on from part five. All previous parts can be found here. Jaskier sings “I Fall In Love Too Easily” and “My Funny Valentine”.

This part is for my friend M, who requested Jaskier singing “My Funny Valentine” on top of a piano, and boy was it a pleasure to deliver. If you have prompts or suggestions for scenes you’d like to see incorporated here, please send them my way! 

“Does this place have a phone?” Geralt asks.

Mousesack, as if roused from some dismal dream, gestures around the corner in the direction of the restrooms. Geralt gets to his feet and sure enough, there’s an enclosed phone booth, surely a holdover from this place’s past as a legitimate business.

He drops his coin in the slot, gives the operator the number, and waits. It rings for a long time.

“What?” growls the voice on the other end of the line, when someone finally picks up.

“Renfri,” he says, “I have a favor to ask you.”

Her silence is pointed in its duration.

“It’s important,” he tries.

“You know I’m not just some gal Friday you can call up whenever you need information, right?” she says, as if anyone could mistake the most ruthless investigative journalist in town for some romantic foil in a screwball comedy.

“I know.”

“I’ve got my own work—my own priorities. You can’t expect me drop everything just because you need a fucking favor.”

“I don’t.”

He can practically hear Renfri clench her jaw. “Damn it, Geralt, I was meeting with a source who was willing to talk to me about that son of a bitch Stregobor. She was risking a lot to come here. And then you had to call and spook her.”

Geralt leans his forehead against the cool glass of the telephone cabinet and closes his eyes. Renfri’s been chasing Stregobor for years, trying to find enough proof to finally expose his corruption. It’s more than some story for her. Although she doesn’t like to talk about the reasons for her vendetta against the Chief of Police, Geralt’s pieced together enough bits and pieces about her life to make an educated guess. She told him once that Stregobor was the reason she became a reporter in the first place—“because somebody’s got to bring the things men like him do in the dark out into the light and make them pay for what they’ve done.” Geralt knows how much a real lead on Stregobor would mean to her. “I’m sorry.”

Renfri lets out a heavy sigh, her breath rough against the phone’s receiver. “I know you are.”

“What I need to ask you, it’s about Stregobor.”

“I’m listening.”

So Geralt tells her everything he knows—about Calanthe’s fall, and the runaway nightclub singer, and the missing girl, and Eist’s murder, and Stregobor’s threats to Mousesack, and the man with the feather in his hat standing watch outside the Palace Hotel. He tells her Yennefer’s theory about Calanthe’s turf war with Emhyr, and his own suspicions that something much more dangerous is afoot. There aren’t many people he’d lay it all out on the table for, but Renfri is one of them. She’d slit his throat herself if it meant she could finally get what she wants, but unlike most people in this town, she’d do it while looking him dead in the eye, and he can’t think of a better reason in the world to trust her.

Renfri is quiet so long Geralt is afraid they’ve been disconnected. At last, she says, “What do you need me for?”

“Emhyr having Calanthe killed, that’s one thing. But the girl—” All of a sudden, he can’t bring himself to say Cirilla’s name, as though speaking it aloud to a stranger is too much of a risk. “I can’t make the pieces fit together. I need to know what Stregobor gets out of this. I figured if anyone would be able to find out, it’d be you.”

“And in return?” she asks.

“I can’t promise anything, but if you want proof about Stregobor, doesn’t this seem like a good chance to get it?”

“Fine.”

Geralt lets out a deep breath. “Thank you.”

“Save your thanks till you’ve found the girl,” Renfri says. “Just hope she comes out of this in one piece.”

Geralt can’t consider the alternative, so he hangs up.

“Well?” Mousesack says, when Geralt returns to the booth.

He doesn’t sit down. “We’ll see.”

“You’re not staying?” Mousesack asks, gesturing to Geralt’s meal.

Geralt shakes his head. “I’ve got to get going.” It’s later than he thought, and he doesn’t want to risk missing Jaskier’s set.

Given the time, he decides to shell out for a cab downtown. When he tells the driver where he’s headed, the man gives him a skeptical look in the rearview mirror, but pulls into traffic without comment.

When Geralt steps inside the club, he understands the driver’s reaction. The Nightingale is patronized almost exclusively by men—men drinking together at the bar, men necking at candlelit tables, men dancing swaying slowly on the dancefloor in each other’s arms. Geralt has hardly lived a sheltered life, nor is he innocent of the breadth and variety of desire, but he’s never seen anything like this. It tugs at something behind his sternum, an ache he hasn’t let himself feel in a long time—not lust, which is a familiar enough companion, but longing. And onstage, sitting atop the sleek black piano under the spotlight, is Jaskier.

“My heart should be well schooled,” he sings, “’cause I’ve been fooled in the past.” He looks different here than he did at the Last Rose—and not only his clothes. Though the sleek suit the color of the midnight sky does make a change. Jaskier’s face is just as boyishly handsome, his voice just as smooth and sultry as Geralt remembers. The real difference is in his demeanor. Where his persona in rehearsal this morning was brashly flirtatious, here Jaskier is sensual and languorous and just a little bit sad. “But still I fall in love too easily,” he sings, with a wry, melancholy smile in his voice. “I fall in love too fast.”

Applause breaks out across the club as Geralt weaves through the crowd, sticking to the shadows at the edge of the room. He can’t risk Jaskier spotting him and bolting a second time.

“I don’t know about you all,” Jaskier says to the audience, “but I really do have the most atrocious track record when it comes to affairs of the heart.” The crowd laughs knowingly.

Geralt sneaks up the steps at the far side of the stage, and slips the stagehand standing there the last cash in his wallet to let him watch from the wings. It must happen often enough, because the man doesn’t even give him a second thought, and when he gets backstage, Geralt can see why. From close up, he can see that Jaskier’s suit shimmers subtly under the lights, and that he has a fine rim of kohl around his dark-lashed eyes. The sight makes Geralt’s mouth go dry.

“It’s such a nuisance, this vital organ,” Jaskier’s saying. “It goes too fast, then it goes too slow. They’re not in love with me, or by the time they are, I’m not in love with them. And you know, this heart of mine is always falling for the most unsuitable of people. I like to tell myself I’m a man of discerning taste, but, well, I’m sure there are a few of you here tonight who know better.”

The audience’s laughter is warm, self-deprecating. Jaskier’s at home with this crowd. It’s still an act he’s putting on, just like the one he was putting on at the Last Rose—or the one he used in his dressing room with Geralt, for that matter—but this one feels truer, or at least as if he’s exposing some vulnerable part of himself. In the corner of his vision, Geralt is half-aware of a change occurring in the crowd on the dance floor, but he can hardly take his eyes of Jaskier.

“But, oh, who am I kidding? It doesn’t take much to get my heart beating faster, and I’m not going to waste my time feeling bad about that, not when there are so many better things to do.” He flashes the audience a wicked grin that garners him a wolf whistle from someone in the crowd.

The pianist starts the next melody. Jaskier adjusts his position on the edge of the piano, recrossing his legs, and begins to sing again.

Geralt lets the sweet, resonant sound of Jaskier’s voice wash over him. Watching Jaskier as he sings “you make me smile with my heart” proves to be too much for Geralt, so he turns to look out into the crowd, wondering what it would be like to be one of the men on the dance floor—so certain of his own desires, so at home in the casual intimacy of someone else’s arms thrown around his neck. Even with Yennefer, it was never easy. Loving her was hard work—is hard work, since he has to admit his own foolish heart doesn’t seem able to learn its lesson—and even when they were good together, he had to fight against every instinct in his body to let himself relax into her touch. He can’t imagine what it would feel like to hold someone in his arms and think, unequivocally, Yes, this is right.

Geralt is so wrapped up in his own self-pity that he almost doesn’t notice the man pushing his way through the crowd of dancers—the man in the stark black suit with the feather in his hat. But when the man’s hand reaches into his jacket, Geralt snaps to attention.

“Stay, little Valentine,” Jaskier croons, just before the shot rings out.

*

Part seven

[keepingupwithlinmanuel]

Lin-Manuel Miranda Gets the Job Done

But perhaps nothing else stirs Miranda's passion quite so powerfully as Puerto Rico, the U.S. territory where his parents were born and which has suffered so much tragedy since the hurricane hit in 2017. Original estimates put the death toll at just 64, but a George Washington University study commissioned by the local government and released in August 2018 put the total at 2,975 lost lives -- more than Hurricane Katrina. Many of the deaths were avoidable, linked to a lack of emergency and relief services and a full year of power outages. "The power grid is key to everything, and so many of the heartbreaking stories we're hearing about were preventable," says Miranda. "There weren't fridges around for medicine. Health centers were without power."

...

As part of his hurricane relief efforts, Miranda works with the Hispanic Federation, a nongovernmental organization that has given a lot of support to Puerto Rico's recovery. His father, Luis, is the group's founding president.

To aid in the recovery, Miranda has raised millions through TeeRico and his star-studded single "Almost Like Praying." "Through the Hispanic Federation, we've been working on providing solar energy for health centers so if everything goes down again -- it's a very fragile and outdated power grid, and I'm not confident it got fixed post-Maria -- there will still be medical care available," he says. "In some parts of the island, it's business as usual, and in other parts there are still no traffic lights. Everyone's still going on the honor system, and that's become business as usual, which is very sad. In some ways, it's back to normal, and in some ways, it will never be normal again."

...

But Miranda is quick to explain that each project "works different muscle groups" and that he's not really working himself into an early grave. "I have a lot of help. I sleep. I take my kids to school and tuck them in each night. I'm not some kind of sleep-deprived tortured writing animal," he says. "Some days, I feel like I'm constantly trying to kick the pedestal out from under me that people are trying to put there."

The Gmorning/Gnight book came about as a result of the Internet. "There's no magic behind that. All I'm writing is what I wish someone would tell me that morning. If it's about anxiety, I'm probably feeling anxious. If it's about 'pace yourself,' I probably put toothpaste in my coffee," he says. "The more personal I get, the more it resonates -- which is an amazing lesson as a writer. Those are written and done, and all that's left is for people to have it."

A biography of Fosse and Verdon, written by Miranda's Wesleyan classmate Sam Wasson, inspired the upcoming FX series. "I put it in the hands of Tommy Kail [a director-producer and frequent Miranda collaborator] and Andy Blankenbuehler, our choreographer from Heights and Hamilton, who's as close to a modern-day Fosse as I know," he says. "That's not really work for me; it's helping put talented people together in a room and saying, 'OK, keep going.' "

Of Tick, Tick... Boom!, he says, "I know I'm going to have to wait to make it, because I want to make sure the screenplay is everything it can be. We really just started kicking the tires on it in earnest, and I don't think it'll get into production until late 2020. And playing Lee Scoresby feels like a vacation, even though it's hard work, because it doesn't require any part of my brain to be writing. So when you look at it that way, it's not really all that much at once."

Part of the reason Miranda's fan base is so vast and devoted is his goofy, self-deprecating personality -- he's a West Wing geek (the Hamilton line about "looking for a mind at work" was lifted straight from the series), and he once told Conan O'Brien that he totally freaked out upon meeting "Weird Al" Yankovic, saying "I have no chill whatsoever." It's as if he is simultaneously the hippest and the dorkiest guy in the room.

"It would take so much more energy if I had to pretend to be cool," he says. "I don't know how to do that. I feel very lucky that Hamilton came along at a time in my life when I already knew who I was. I was married, I had a kid. When you have that level of success as a person and you're still trying to find out who you are and what you want to be in the world, it can knock you off your feet in a very real way."

He pauses.

"Of course, I could still get knocked off my feet at any second," says Miranda. "Let's not predict anything!"

Best of Wives and Best of Women

Helping keep Miranda on an even keel is his wife, Nadal, whom he praised as "the reason everything gets done" in his heart-wrenching "love is love is love" speech at the Tonys shortly after the Pulse nightclub massacre in Orlando, FL. His high-traffic Twitter feed is punctuated with mini "one-act plays" featuring dialogue from the Miranda household, which often involves Nadal keeping any sign of ego from her husband firmly in check.

"Vanessa is an absolute superhero who manages to do her own legal work while still nursing a baby," he says. "She's also not really a theater person. So if I've written something and she likes it, I know I've cleared a higher bar than someone who loves show tunes full stop. If Hamilton has gone beyond the base of people who like musical theater, it's because of her."

The couple is still adjusting to life as parents of two. "We're not outnumbered, but our attention can be split," he says. "The baby is still very dependent on us, and the 3-year-old is testing boundaries all the time. The 'threenager' thing is real! There can be nights she's with the baby and I'm with the older one, and we both fall asleep without checking in because we're freaking exhausted! So we really have to focus on taking the time to be with each other and not let drift happen. That's the foundation, not only for our kids, but for ourselves."

To ensure that he's fully present for his family, Miranda enforces a "no Twitter on the weekends" rule, deleting the app from his phone every Friday night and reinstalling it Monday morning. "It's an absolute addiction, and this is the only way I know to really not do it," he says. "And then I go into the week with energy because I've had the weekend off."

[agent-enchantress]

The Pawn and the King (Eggsy Unwin x Reader)

It was rare that your father ever let you out of his sight. Even when he did, you knew he was always watching. That’s what happens when you’re the daughter of a terrorist. Or as your father like to call himself, a visionary.

His plan was simple. He intended to take out all major world leaders, as well and their successors. Then he would emerge as hero with a military and government background as well as a sob story. For some reason he believed the world would be sympathetic to a man and his daughter with a murdered wife. Naturally he’d leave out the part where he killed her.

Your mother didn’t agree with your father’s plans, and neither did you. You’re sure he would’ve killed you both if he didn’t need one of you for his sick plan. He figured that you’d be easier to control and thus leading to the death of your mother.

This was one of the nights that he’d let you go out. You always chose to frequent nightclubs. Something about them made you feel safe. You could disappear in the crowd of people dancing merrily and you couldn’t feel your sadness as the music resonated through your chest.

Tonight was no different as you sipped your drink silently sitting at the bar. The liquid left a slight burn as it went down your throat and you smiled.

“I’ll have a martini please”

You cocked your head to the side to see the source of the British accent. A very handsome young man just about your age with dark brown hair and blue eyes met your gaze. He smiled and you turned away as you felt blush burning on your cheeks.

“What’s your name luv?” He asked taking a seat next to you.

“Y/n” You replied. “And yours?”

“Eggsy” He smiled with a slight bow of his head.

“Eggsy? Like scrambled Eggsy?” You mocked.

“Ha ha very funny”

“You’re not from around here Eggsy. What brings you to New York?” You asked genuinely curious.

“Work” He nodded solemnly. “I’m a tailor and one of our more high payin’ clients request that we come to ‘em”

“Ah. Thrilling” You said taking another sip of your drink.

“What’d you do?” He asked scooting a little closer.

You had to be careful. The more you told him the more danger he’d be in. Last time you told someone too much your father had them...disposed of to put it nicely. “I work for my father. Family business sort of thing”

“Anything excitin?” He asked perking up.

You took another sip of your drink in hopes of changing the conversation. “You have no idea”

It was silent for a long time as you both clutched your drinks and took time filling sips. You were intrigued by Eggsy. He seemed so nice and genuine, unlike the other men you had encountered in clubs.

“You got’a boyfriend?” He asked causing you to almost choke on your drink.

“No” You answered knowing where he was going with this. “Trust me, you don’t want to get involved with me” You said deciding to leave.

As you stood up he gently caught your arm. “Why not?”

You made a face and then sighed. “It’s complicated. I have to go” You said pulling away from his grasp.

“Wait” He said jumping in front of you and blocking your path. “Meet me here tomorrow?”

“Eggsy, I can....”

“Nope” He said pressing his finger against your lips. “Just promise me you’ll think about it, yeah?”

You sighed again. Damn he was persistent. “Alright fine. But don’t expect much”

“A little hope is all I need” He grinned. “M’lady” He said gesturing for you to keep walking.

You rolled your eyes and made your way towards the exit of the club. You couldn’t help but look back. Eggsy gave you a little wave and before you could even stop your reflexes you waved back too. You quickly turned away and made your way out and into the night air.

You kicked yourself for even letting this go as far as it did, but you couldn’t help the burning feeling in your stomach urging you to go back tomorrow. Per usual your father’s limo pulled up to the curb just as you got there.

Your father had bought an abandoned warehouse outside of the city basically in the middle of nowhere. From the outside it appeared run down and abandoned. The inside on the other hand was a small city, including living quarters for you and all of your father’s followers.

You trudged down the hallway passed all the soldiers who greeted you cheerfully. You didn’t pay them any mind. You hated it here and you felt so alone. Your father assured you that you weren’t a prisoner but you knew for a fact if you tried to leave he’d come for you.

You opened the door to your room and flopped down on the bed. Your room was pretty nice considering your situation. Right on cue your father walked in.

“Princess” He smiled clapping his hands together. “How was your night out”

“Same as always” You said trying to sound as uninterested as possible.

“Well maybe tomorrow could be more exciting for you” He said toying with a book on your nightstand.

“Why’s that?” You asked suddenly feeling your stomach drop. Whenever you’re father said things like this it meant he had some sort of plan cooking.

“I have some business to attend to and I thought that maybe you could go out again tomorrow night” You perked up. “Ah there you go princess” Your father said noticing. “Anything to make you happy”

Normally you’d cuss him out and say if he really wanted to make you happy he’d let you go. Something in your stomach told you to keep quiet and you knew it was the thought of Eggsy. Instead you made a humming noise and faked a smile.

So here you were the next day dressed to the nines heading back to the club. Your father’s men were close on your heels until you reached the door of the club and the broke off to wherever they waited for you.

You paused a moment before you opened the door. This was a bad idea all around. Every moment you spent with Eggsy, near Eggsy, even thinking about Eggsy put him at risk. For some reason no matter how many times those thoughts ran through your head you couldn’t shake your craving to see him.

So as you walked through the nightclub you allowed yourself these few moments of bliss dreaming about Eggsy. The thought that he wouldn’t come never crossed your mind until now as you didn’t see his face.

You were pulled from your thoughts as someone tapped your shoulder. “You look beautiful luv”

Eggsy. You smiled as you turned to face him. “You don’t look so bad yourself” You smiled admiring his suit. What a physique....

“Y/n?”

“Yes, sorry, what did you say” You said blushing as you realized you completely missed what he said.

“I said I can’t believe you came” He said smirking at you causing your legs to turn to jelly. “Am I that irresistible”

“Maybe I just came for the drinks” You said returning his smirk with a playful one of your own.

“I can take care of that” He said offering you his arm.

You sat at the bar for hours basking in Eggsy and every touch, every smile, every laugh. He was like no one you ever met before. So different from the men that your father employed and their crude comments towards you.

“So you’re telling me ain’t got no cell phone” He said laughing as he took a sip of his drink.

“Nope” You said using a smile to hide the horrors of what was really going on with your father.

“How am I supposed to talk to you then? Should I get us walkie talkies?”

“What are we in grade school?” You teased as you took another sip of your drink. “Geeze is that the time, I have to go” You said standing up and quickly gathering your things.

“Tomorrow?” Eggsy asked hopefully.

You sighed. “All I can promise is that I’ll try”

He nodded. “I’ll anxiously await tomorrow night then” You smiled and you turned to leave but you paused. It looked like there was something else Eggsy wanted to say but the words were trapped on his tongue. You could’ve prodded him to speak up but instead you reached over and gave his hand a gentle squeeze before you turned to go.

You didn’t notice your father’s men stepping in line behind you as you left the club. You didn’t notice the long car ride back to the warehouse. You didn’t even notice the crude comments of one of your father’s guards. You could only think about the handsome stranger you had met just a day ago and how there was no doubt in your mind that you loved him.

Right on cue your father walked into your room. “Princess how was your evening?”

You quickly snapped out of your lovesick daze and back to reality. “It was fine”

“Good” He said sitting down on the bed next to you. “There’s some people I would like you to meet. They’re just some investors that..”

“I’m not interested” You said sharply.

“Princess...”

“I said I’m not interested” You snapped and began to storm out of your room.

Before you would reach the door your father grabbed your arm tightly sending a shot of sharp pain up your arm. “I’m not asking” He said as his eyes turned a dark color.

You weren’t backing down yet though. Your new found love came with a side of extra courage. “I want nothing to do with you or your stupid business deals. I hope you get caught one day” You spat as you ripped your arm away from him which left a burning red mark.

Before you could even process what happened you felt a blow to your right eye. You recoiled and your hand went to the swollen area. “Fine” Your father yelled walking away. “You can rot in here” He said slamming your door closed and locking it.

You huffed and made your way to the small bathroom connected to your room. You removed your hand from your eye and gazed in the mirror. Purple and blue was already staining the skin around your swollen eye. You grabbed the towel next to the sink and let the ice water soak it. You pressed the cool cloth to your eye and sighed at the relief it brought you.

After doing the best you could to nurse your eye you flopped down on your bed. What would happen if you told Eggsy the truth? Would he help you expose your father and earn your freedom? Or would he run and end up getting himself killed? None of that was even a possibility since you were sure your father would never let you leave ever again.

These thoughts ran through your head the entire night and into the early hours of the morning until you finally fell asleep. You were jolted awake by the sound of your door being unlocked.

“Don’t be so afraid Princess, it’s just me” Your father cooed as he entered the room. “I feel really, and I mean really terrible for what happened last night. So I thought that to make it up to you maybe you’d like to go out again tonight”

You wanted nothing from from him but the thought of telling Eggsy the truth made you hold your tongue. “Of course father. Thank you” You said mustering the fakest smile you possibly could.

“Better get going, you slept in pretty late” He said winking before he shut your door.

“Piece of shit” You mumbled before pushing yourself up out of bed. You glanced over at the clock and tried to make sense of the numbers through your blurry vision. 6:30. Crap, it was late.

You rushed into the bathroom and were quickly reminded of the black eye you still had. Doing the best you could using make up you tried to cover it. Just to help even more you draped your hair over it as much as you could. Hopefully he wouldn’t notice.

You rushed to your father’s limo and told the driver to hurry. Hopefully Eggsy wouldn’t think you weren’t coming and leave. You rushed inside in a frantic jog scanning the room as quickly as you could. Sitting in the corner was Eggsy. You breathed a sigh of relief and realized you were out of breath.

“You alright luv?” He asked chuckling as you walked over and took a seat across from him. “You look a little winded”

“Well I practically ran all the way here. I was running late and I was worried you’d leave”

“I would’ve waited all night” He said smiling.

When you were with Eggsy you couldn’t think clearly. Which is why the most important thing you needed to remember never crossed your mind as you brushed your hair behind your ear.

Eggsy’s facial expression instantly changed. A look of confusion flashed across your face before you felt yourself go pale. You were such an idiot. Your black eye you tried so desperately to hide was now in plain sight for Eggsy to see.

You quickly pulled your hair back in front of your face and stood up. Eggsy was up just as quick as you were and grabbed your arm before you could turn to leave. “Who did this to you” He asked, his eyes turning dark with rage.

“I have to go” You said pulling away.

His grip tightened on your arm, just enough to stop you but not enough to cause any pain. “Y/n, who hurt you”

Every fiber in your body was screaming at you to tell him the truth, but your heart stopped you. “I can’t tell you” You said removing his arm and rushing out the door.

You tried to get lost in the crowd but you could hear him pushing past the people behind you. You broke into a run and pushed your way into the cold night air.

“Y/n wait please” You kept running. “I’ll chase you all night if I have to luv”

You stopped and turned around sharply. “Eggsy I care about you very much but you’re already too involved and I don’t want you getting hurt because if anything happened to you....”

Before you knew what was happening Eggsy had taken your face in his hands and pressed his lips against yours. They were warm and soft as he held tightly to you, almost like you’d disappear if he let go.

“I will protect you, no matter what it is” Eggsy said rubbing your cheek with his thumb. His expression quickly changed and he reached in his pocket and pulled out his phone. “I know this is horrible timing but I really need to take this” His eyes pleaded with you. You nodded and gave him a small smile. He smiled back and turned away as he took a few steps out of earshot.

You mind was still trying to process what happened but one thing was for sure, as soon as Eggsy got off that phone call you were going to tell him the truth. But you would never get the chance.

Your father’s men grabbed you and covered your mouth. Without a sound you were thrown into the back of the limo. The doors were locked as the wheels squealed and the car sped away.

This was all your fault. Eggsy had kissed you, and you had let him. Someone had obviously seen and this would be the end of him. God forbid you even try to be happy for one second without ruining someone else’s life.

You banged on the door trying to get out or at least get Eggsy’s attention, but when you looked back, he was gone. Maybe it was too late, maybe he was already dead in the alley, maybe they had dragged him off for questioning. Either way he was gone.

As the car sped down the streets unusually fast you wondered what would happen when you got home. Would your father already know? You’d probably never be let out of your room again. You glanced out at the city taking everything in for the last time.

When you arrived home you were roughly dragged out of the car as if you were a prisoner. Your father’s men dragged you inside and waiting in the front room was your father and a tall glass case with a tube attached to the top.

“Princess, I’m glad you’re alright” He said rushing over and giving you a hug. You were extremely confused. He wasn’t angry. In fact he seemed genuinely worried about you, well, as worried as he could fake.  “I’ve caught word that one of the Kingsman agents I’ve told you about has found our location and is coming for us. I was worried he had gotten you” He said leading you along towards the glass case.

You realized what the case was for now, the poor agent. Part of you was hoping your father would be brought down, the other part knew that if your father was expecting him, there’d be no way out. You both turned as you heard commotion and gunshots coming from outside the front doors.

“Ah he’s here” Your father said. Before you could even process what was happening your father had pushed you into the glass case.

You banged on the glass as it sealed shut with an electronic shrill. “What the hell are you doing” You screamed at him, the glass muting your rage.

Your father didn’t answer as the front doors were busted down in a fiery explosion. Through the smoke you could make out two figures walking towards you. As the smoke cleared you gasped and your horror was reflected on the man’s face staring back at you.

“Eggsy” You whispered. Your father broke into laughter. “Eggsy I didn’t know” You pleaded with him.

“Neither did I” He said swallowing hard.

“Of course you didn’t” Your father said clapping his hands together. “Neither of you were meant to. How was my daughter supposed to know that the club I suggested she go to just happened to be a place where Kingsman had been spotted? How was one of the Kingsman supposed to know that my daughter was the girl they fell in love with? You were a pawn” Your father said tapping on the glass of your box. “And what a catch. The great Agent Galahad, the one who took down Richmond Valentine”

“I think you’ve misunderstood something father, Eggsy doesn’t care for me like that. At least he doesn’t now” You said unable to meet Eggsy’s eyes.

“Well he has about five minutes to really decide that” Your father said pulling out a remote and pressing a few buttons.

Suddenly ice cold water came rushing down all over you. You spit out the water that you had inhaled and wiped your eyes stepping out of the way of the direct waterfall. “Are you crazy?” You screamed at your father more pissed than frightened.

Your father ignored you and started walking towards Eggsy. “You have five minutes until this tank fills to the top and she drowns. You and your little friend can leave here and never pursue us again, and I’ll let her live. Or you can watch her drown before your eyes and I’ll kill you too once you’re done watching”  You could see Eggsy clenching his fits.

It was silent for a long time except for the sound of the water splashing in the tank and the distant gunshots  echoing off the stone walls. Finally Eggsy spoke. “Let her go” You we’re surprised and looked up as your eyes at last met Eggsy’s.

At this moment you took him in. He was dressed quite nicely in a suit with very think glasses. His hair was combed perfectly to the side. So different than the hat it was usually hidden under. You couldn’t tell if it was your shivering joints or Eggsy’s appearance that made you weak in the knees. In an instant your father’s voice broke you out of your daydream.

“So you’ll leave?” Your father asked straightening the jacket he was wearing.

“No. But she’s your daughter and you need to let her go”

“Maybe you need some more incentive” Your father said pushing another button on his remote. The water came rushing in faster and it was now up to your knees. You shivered as the icy water pricked at your skin.

Eggsy reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a gun. “Let her go”

“Eggsy. It was Eggsy right?” Your father asked waiting for an explanation that never came. “You’re obviously outgunned” He said gesturing to the men that popped out from behind your glass prison. “It’s pretty simple you either save the girl and walk away or watch her die and then you can die trying to stop me. Tick tock Eggsy, tick tock”

You were starting to get nervous. You didn’t actually think your father would drown you in a glass box. The water was to your shoulders now and there was no way in hell you’d let Eggsy let your father go. You started to kick the glass, you pressed your back against the other wall and tried to bust the box apart, you even tried punching and ramming against it but nothing worked.

“Aw princess don’t hurt yourself let daddy work this out”

“Shut the hell up you fucking psyco” You yelled continuing your plight to break the glass. “Don’t give him what he wants Eggsy! Take him down”

Your father rolled his eyes and pressed another button. The water was flowing in at full blast now and before you knew it you were completely submerged. You opened your eyes and could no longer hear but you could see Eggsy talking with your father who kept gesturing to you.

You could feel yourself running out of air and your lungs burned, screaming at you to take a breath. You banged on the glass like a madman until things started to go fuzzy. You were no longer cold and a warm feeling spread through your body as you floated, suspended in the water. You could see Eggsy seemed to be yelling something at you but things were fading and going blurry. You felt yourself slipping away and the last thing you remember was the sound of a gunshot. Then things went dark.

When you woke up again you smiled. Someone’s soft warm lips were pressed against yours and you knew they were Eggsy’s. He was cradling your head in his lap obviously performing CPR but you enjoyed the contact of his lips nevertheless. When he pulled away to take another breath you coughed up some water and turned you head away.

“You know there’s an easier way to get a kiss”

“Oh bloody hell Y/n you scared me to death” He said sitting back on his heels with a sigh.

“What happened” You asked sitting up starting to become concerned. As you pushed yourself up you felt the shattered glass pieces surrounding you.

“Don’t worry” A female voice said from behind you. “Your father will never bother you or anyone ever again”

“You’re safe” Eggsy said smiling at you.

“Is he....”

“Yes he’s dead” Eggsy said finishing the question you didn’t really want to ask.

You breathed a sigh of relief and laid back down in Eggsy’s lap. Finally for the first time since your mother died you felt at ease. “Thank you Eggsy” You said as sincerely as you possibly could.

He gave you a quick nod. “Anything for you love” He looked up at the girl. “We all wrapped up here Rox?”

“Indeed we are” She said heading towards the door.

Eggsy helped you up gently, steadying you by pressing his hand into the small of your back. “Eggsy” You said softly. “I know you probably think I had something to do with all of this, but I don’t. I’m not my father and I never agreed with him. I’ll tell you anything you want to know”

Eggsy smirked. “Have you ever considered being a Kingsman? Because I’d like to offer you a job. And hey, one of the perks is having me”

“When do I start?” You said smiling as you leaned on his shoulder.

“Right now”

[rpritchardjournal]

Queer Utopia // Research

While researching for my dissertation, ideas of queer utopia had cropped up a few times, when I realized the ‘utopian’ aspect of my studio work- creating these virtual landscapes of comfort and possibility, I decided to do some research into the notion of queer utopia. 

“Outlaw sensibilities, self-made kinships, chosen lineages, utopic futurity, exilic commitment, and rage at institutions that police the borders of the normal -  these are among the attitudes that make up ‘queer’ in its contemporary usage.” This statement from David Getsy is one that resonated strongly with me, as someone who has felt ‘queer’ since before I knew there was a word for it. When thinking about this notion- that utopic futurity- is a hallmark of queerness, I initially wasn’t sure what that meant. I started reading Cruising Utopia by José Esteban Muñoz however, and I started to really understand the significance of utopia to queerness.

“Queerness is not yet here. Queerness is an ideality.” opens Muñoz.

Muñoz argues in Cruising Utopia, that queerness is a way of imagining a future, not a state of being. Muñoz theory stems from Ernst Bloch’s ideas of concrete utopia - utopia rooted in hope, a hope that is established by memory- by drawing from the past we can re-imagine a queer future filled with concrete potential. Muñoz insists that we “must vacate the here and now for a then and there... we must always be future bound in our desires and designs. The future is a spatial and temporal destination.”

When thinking about these ideas of queer utopia I can see many links between my ideas and Muñoz theories. By fabricating, and constructing these virtual spaces I am striving towards a utopian space of queer euphoria- somewhere un-marred by the straight here and now- but beyond. Muñoz’s invites us to collectively step out of ‘this place and time to something fuller, vaster, more sensual, and brighter’ and I think in many ways that is what I have been trying to do with my work- on a very selfish level- step out of a place where I am isolated, my queer spaces closed, my partner and I separated - but also on a bigger scale, step out collectively as queer people, from being othered, from being forced to operate in this subversive way, from being oppressed.

“We must strive, in the face of the here and now’s totalizing rendering of reality, to think and feel a then and there. Some will say that all we have are the pleasures of this moment, but we must never settle for that minimal transport; we must dream and enact new and better pleasures, other ways of being in the world, and ultimately new worlds.”

In Cruising Utopia, Muñoz discusses the work of photographer Kevin Mccarty. I was quite drawn to his Chameleon Club series- The images show empty stages, lit as if for a concert at punk and gay clubs in Los Angeles. The series aims to describe the experience of existing on the edge of identification, the possibility of transformation and the construction of utopia. These empty stages, lit- waiting for something- almost make you hold your breath- anticipating and preparing you for something coming.

(Images from Kevin Mccarty’s Chameleon Club)

“What we need to know is that queerness is not yet here but it approaches like a crashing wave of potentiality. And we must give in to its propulsion, its status as a destination. Willingly we let ourselves feel queerness’s pull, knowing it as something else that we can feel, that we must feel.” - Muñoz 

I think I was drawn to these images, as the idea of queer spaces- is one I had been mulling over since starting work this semester really. “Look this thing is real - this exists in nightclubs, this exists on our record players, this exists when we’re dancing around,” Says Travis Alabanza in the Kiss My Genders exhibition catalog. Here he Alabanza captures the essence of why I think queer spaces, gay bars, gay nightclubs, are important- because Queer Utopias are imagined there. I think part of why I have been fabricating these queer spaces, is because my physical ones- my wndows to Utopia have been been closed due to the pandemic. 

I think this understanding adds another dimension to my work, and it is an important thread that I want to continue to explore in my studio practice. It ties into so much of the motivation behind my work so far- constructing representation and spaces where queerness is not other.

Quotes and research from: 

Kiss My Genders Exhibition Catalog - Hayway Gallery 

Queer (Whitchaple Documents of Contemporary Art) - David J. Getsy

Cruising Utopia - José Esteban Muñoz

[lordendsavior]

Since September, pop band Muna have been setting the scene at Harry Styles' solo gigs.

The trio, who identify themselves as a "queer band", were hand-picked by the singer after he fell in love with their debut album, About U, for its messages of inclusivity and acceptance (oh, and also the amazing, arms-aloft choruses).

It's fair to say the band were stunned.

"It was funny," says guitarist Josette Maskin. "I'd never really thought about Harry Styles too much - but the week he asked us to go on tour, we'd been listening to Sign Of The Times and spoken about him a lot.

"His vibe was in the oeuvre of our lives and then this happened."

"The oeuvre of our lives??!" cackles her bandmate, Naomi McPherson "Josette!"

When we speak, Muna are on a day off from Styles' tour, preparing for their own, Hallowe'en-themed, headline show at London's Heaven Nightclub.

They're sparkling company, painting each others' nails black and decanting mini Mars bars into a plastic bag which, later that night, will be flung into the audience during a cover of Michael Jackson's Thriller.

"I love being an opening act," enthuses singer Katie Gavin, "but playing for our fans makes me feel like I'm getting recharged to carry our message to people who haven't heard us."

The last two months have been an eye-opener for the band, who quickly came to appreciate the passion of Styles' fans.

"I had no idea how visceral this experience is for some of them," says Katie. "They pass out, out of being overwhelmed by being in the same room as him."

"I don't think we realised until we started that every night is a night thousands of people have been waiting for," adds Naomi.

"It's so cool for us to be part of that."

Muna formed at the University of Southern California in 2013, bonding over their shared love of '80s funk-pop - Janet Jackson, Chaka Khan, Talking Heads, Prince.

Coincidentally, their tutor at USC turned out to be Patrice Rushen - who had her own 80s hit with Forget-Me-Nots, and who inspired Prince to write I Wanna Be Your Lover.

"She's our mentor," says Josette. "She has the funk."

"She is the funk," corrects Katie.

Rushen gave Muna a hand as they self-produced their first album - adding a bell part to the shimmering break-up song Winterbreak, for instance. But the group take a more political stance than the artists who inspired them.

Recent single Crying On The Bathroom Floor deals with the psychological impact of abusive relationships, and how "survivors form strong attachments to their abusers".

And their electrifying signature song, I Know A Place, is "about the rich LGBTQ history of turning bars and ballrooms into safe havens".

Although it was written before the nightclub shootings in Orlando last year, it has taken on added resonance since.

"It's interesting, because the song deals so much with imagination and hope - but there's a downside to that, which is not seeing these things coming, not being prepared when they happen," says Katie.

"But then, thank God we had a song for it, do you know what I mean?"

"Everything that's happened is so terrifying, but at least people have found some kind of solace in something we made," adds Josette.

Performing on Jimmy Kimmel's US TV show this January, I Know A Place mutated again when Gavin added new lyrics addressing Donald Trump's travel ban.  

"Even if our skin or Gods look different, I believe all human life is significant," she sang, as her bandmates muted their instruments.

"I throw my arms open wide in resistance. He's not my leader even if he's my president."

It's since become a permanent fixture in the song and, surprisingly, the band haven't seen a backlash in their Twitter mentions.

"It was actually more positive than the crazy hate," says Katie.

"The only reaction that I had, other than being impressed and proud of Katie, was I saw someone had made it into a gif," Naomi laughs.

"I was like, 'We're a gif now! We've made it!'"

If you're thinking Muna's message is stronger than you'd normally expect at a Harry Styles' gig, you'd be right.

But the band think they were chosen for a purpose.

"He's using us as a way of saying something without actually saying it, which is actually very smart," says Naomi.

"We are so happy to be a queer band and invite our audience to explore queerness, and I think he's kind of the same," adds Katie.

"Having us on the tour was like an invitation."

Meanwhile, the former One Direction singer has echoed Muna's politics in his own set.

On the opening night in San Francisco, a fan threw a rainbow-coloured Pride flag onstage, which Styles has had wrapped around his microphone stand ever since.

Playing in London last Sunday,  the star told the audience: "Please feel free to be whatever it is you want to be in this room," and encouraged everyone to "find someone you don't know and embrace them".

Styles' fans have embraced Muna in a way they never expected. Their Twitter followers have doubled, and audiences have actually been paying attention to their songs.

"They're very open listeners," says Naomi. "There's a lack of entitlement that I've seen, at least, as opposed to crowds in other places. "

"It feels like the first time we're on tour. Everything's very intriguing and interesting," adds Katie.

"And there's so much bread in Europe!" laughs Josette.

"I've eaten more pastries this week than I have in the last two years combined."

When the European leg of the tour ends next week, Muna will head back to LA to work on their second album.

"We want to make 'an album,'" says Josette. "Even though no-one gives a stuff about albums any more."

"Yeah, I don't know how much of a pipe dream it is to expect people to listen to an album any more," says Katie.

"I think we're romantics in that sense. Because we want to be somebody's favourite band. And, so far, people have been quite obliging."

[nerdydoll-sims4]

Till Your Last Breath - Chapter 1

Summary: The countdown plastered to one's skin showed how much time the other's soulmate had left to live. For Felicity Smoak, that meant she had 3 months to find and warn her soulmate before he would die. When she met him though, she got more than what she signed herself up for. Especially when his secret identity was revealed to her... Soulmate, Bratva AU mixed with Olicity Fic-A-Thon Prompts. Prompt: Eye Contact Word Count: 1662 Rating: M Tagging: @thebookjumper, @olicityhiatusficathon  Notes: Heyyaaa people :) I'm very excited to be back with this small prologue. This fanfiction will be updated weekly, depends on how much the prompt fits the storyline I have in mind, and of course the response will determine how many chapters this story should get. While this prologue is very quick, I will try to aim for a word count between 2500 and 5000+. The chapters will focus heavily on that week's prompt, except for this one, because this is the chapter that gets the story going. I hope you enjoy this little ficlet and follow the characters' journey to the end. :) Let me know what you think at the end by dropping a message. Comments and kudos feed the soul of my Muse. :P Enjoy! :)

Read on AO3

The worlds of Soulmates were a cruel one. For instance, not everyone had a soulmate while some people had more than one. The appellation "cruel" did not come from that reason though. It came from the marred skin on a person's body that hid a countdown. The countdown itself showed the years, months, days and minutes that were left until their own soulmate died, spraying an invisible shadow of death and clock over people's heads as a reminder. Those who carried the different looking countdowns were much more tensed, depressed and led a life only the strongest could. But even so, from the connections soulmates shared, people called it a blessing.

For Felicity Smoak, it was more of a curse.

The curved numbers changing from day to day did not show a high number like in the case of most children at her age. Instead, when Felicity turned 13 and the mark appeared, it displayed the following combination of numbers: "12:03:20:05." Which meant she had a little over 12 years until her soulmate died.

From the moment people saw the number on her wrist, they started whispering behind her back, pitying her, mocking her. Some were kind, some were not. Some offered condolences to her, while some told her it was because no one wanted her. Overall, Felicity received a load of varying reactions that pushed her into a dark place. She did not want a simple number to rule her life, especially when it did not necessarily mean anything. Sometimes, the dates were wrong.

So, Felicity bought a bracelet with the help of her mother to conceal the countdown and focused on making a bright future for her. That helped her in more ways than she thought it would at first. The pity looks ceased then vanished altogether after a while and her classmates stopped making fun of her. And while it solved many problems, she couldn't ignore the rising nervousness and later panic at the low number.

She wasn't into soulmates, but if the numbers were true, it meant an innocent person was going to die and she knew exactly when.

Felicity was 22 when she decided to find her soulmate and warn him. For years, she sat back and focused on her life, waiting for the countdown to switch to a higher number. But since she only had three more years, she decided it was up to her to make sure the man she was destined to be with wouldn't die so early. She wasn't sure she would actually start a relationship with him once found, as she was still too young to settle for "her forever," but she couldn't do nothing any longer.

Unbeknownst to him, he needed her help.

At the age of 25, after 3 years of hopeless searching, Felicity was tired both physically and mentally. She listened to what her guts told her and moved from Las Vegas to Starling City and yet, she caught no sign of him. It was believed that when you met your soulmate, the countdown's color would change from black to a lighter, colorful one, indicating someone's status. The mark would only turn back to black once the mate died. Felicity checked her wrist a lot per day, but whenever she looked down, she had to swallow back a disappointed sigh at the sight of dark ink.

She had four months left and Felicity had visited each club, hospital, social place, plaza, hotel and so on the city had to offer for people. No matter what though, the mark stay unchanged with only the numbers growing smaller.

And after years of searching, she was losing her optimism.

It took her two hours of standing in line to get into the new club, called "Verdant." It was kind of her last hope. She had three months left, if she didn't find her soulmate there, she didn't know where to check next. She moved to Starling City 3 years ago and while her heart told her he was in that city, she couldn't help but question the accurateness of her instincts. He could be in a different city, unaware of his upcoming death whilst she wasted time here. Felicity had no idea what she would do if he died and she couldn't even try preventing his death. If it could be preventable of course, like a car crash or a wrongly gone mugging - not that mugging could be good. If it couldn't be prevented because it was a sickness, Felicity had no idea what she would do next. She had gifted the last few years of her life to finding her soulmate.

She knew people managed to live a content and happy life without their mate, but truth be told, Felicity was unsure. A bigger part of her wouldn't be able to move on from his death, while another part of her would like to explore her other chances. It wasn't like she had never been with anyone, but fate existed for a reason. They were soulmates for a reason.

Not every soulmate relationship worked out the way people hoped, like in the case of her parents, but there were ones people could only dream of, like in the case of her grandparents. The love and connection they shared... It was what drove Felicity to at least try. She didn't want to live her life in a bubble of what ifs and maybes. She had to try and if she failed, she at least failed knowing she did what she could. Although, she wasn't sure anymore if she was talking about saving him or having a relationship with him. For all she knew, he could be a drug addict or a serial killer. Or a seventy-year-old beer-bellied man. That would explain low the numbers. Not that Felicity wanted to think about that option.

Back to the present though.

Felicity made her way through the crowd on the dance floor toward the bar, ignoring the eager hands that touched the red material of her dress and naked flesh they found, knowing the alcohol would help soothe her over-stretched and tensed nerves. She couldn't focus on her task if she was only paying attention to her own body's emotions. Hopping down an empty seat that looked inviting, she ordered her favorite cocktail and placed her palms flat on the cold glass, breathing in and out deeply.

He had to be there, she refused to leave without knowing who her soulmate was.

Swirling in her seat, Felicity took in the place, gazing from faces to faces in the rows of grinding dancers, praying she would feel some kind of pull toward him if she managed to lay her eyes on him. Nothing. She felt absolutely nothing. She scanned the crowd again, only stopping the search to get her drink, the loud music the DJ played, resonating in her chest. The sensation was both unwelcome and unsurprising. Starling City had more than 100 nightclubs and she had been to all.

When she restarted her search for the third time, Felicity felt a set of eyes on her face from the left she hadn't felt before, drawing her attention from the crowd to the shadowed corner upstairs. There, her eyes collided with the gaze of another person, the pull she hoped to feel flaring to life like those flames had been woken suddenly from a light sleep.

She couldn't see his face fully, she couldn't even see his body in full glory, but she didn't have to. Her eyes were strictly stuck on his. From the changing brightness in the dimly lit place, Felicity couldn't see the color of his eyes, but the intimacy it held still got to her. A shiver ran down the path of her spine and her grip on the glass tightened, as his stare kept calling for her.

His eyes showcased power and yet, he didn't even try to use it on her. The muscles in her stomach tangled and Felicity slowly slipped her lower lip between her teeth, the small, almost invisible action drawing his attention from her eyes down to her dark red lips. Her body pulsed with the rhythm of her pounding heart, her breathing that had been mostly normal mere minutes ago quickening.  

A face appeared in her vision out of the blue, covering the mysterious man's gaze and Felicity shook her head a tad to sweep away the magic of the jiffy, blinking rapidly at the stranger ahead while her insides screamed at her to follow the man who held her stare.

"Hey, babe. What you doin' here alone?" he asked a tad unsure about himself, and Felicity almost laughed at his attempt to form a normal, coherent sentence. He most definitely wasn't thirsty anymore.

Before she could reply though, the man was gone, in his place standing a different yet familiar stranger, his piercing bluest of blue eyes making her breath hitch. He was the guy from upstairs. Her eyes roamed over his features and she took in the stubble that littered his jaw, the lips that were drawn in a tight line and the mole his skin wore proudly. Felicity's gaze moved upward and once more, she was struck by his silent look, her lips parting at the sight. He held her captive in that trice, closing out the outsiders from the bartenders to the people surrounding them on the dance parquette. The music that had been bothering her ears before quieted as she got a read on him through his eyes, her heart beating furiously under her breast.

Longing. Surprise. Wariness. Fierceness. Lust.

She didn't need a mirror to be certain her eyes unmasked the same emotions for him. The temperature of her body rose, her skin under the bracelet burning a tad as they stayed unmoving in the spur of the moment.

Felicity didn't have to look down at her mark. She knew it changed colors.

It was him.

Finally.

[endenogatai]

Verve, an events platform based around influencers, raises $60M and rebrands as Pollen

Influencer marketing and the related area of spon con have become a cornerstone of how the internet’s wheels spin: personalities attract traffic and buzz, and help shift not just sentiment but often products for brands, giving boosts both to online engagement and commerce. Now, a London startup called Verve, which plays on the influencer theme in the area of selling tickets to experiences and events, has raised a significant round of growth funding to expand its business.

The company today is announcing that it has raised $60 million in as it rebrands to a new name, Pollen, to reflect a redoubled consumer focus. To date, the company has sold 1 million experiences since being founded in 2014, with 330,000 sold this year, making tens of millions in revenue across a footprint of about 20 countries and among a demographic that is mostly in the 18-28 range.

Led by Northzone, the round also included Sienna Capital, existing investors including Draper Esprit, Backed and Kindred, and others.

Pollen has now raised $100 million, and while it is not disclosing its valuation, Callum Negus-Fancey, the CEO who co-founded the company with his brother Liam, told me that it’s about 3.7 times higher than in its previous round. Meanwhile, PitchBook notes that when it raised part of the round this summer, it had a pre-money valuation of about £70 million. If that’s accurate, this would put the valuation now at around $150 million.

The era of influencers is well and truly upon us in social media: the “billboards of new media”, as Negus-Fancey describes them, have become a major way for brands to reach certain kinds of audiences — often younger demographics that are spending a lot of time already on social platforms whose tastes are formed in part by posts from those who they follow.

Pollen is also targeting the same demographic, and it’s also playing on the idea of influencers, but it’s taking a fairly different approach to how it interacts with these. The company is based around a members-only business model, with membership being free, but only open to those who have built networks of people who look to them to make recommendations for interesting things to do. There are about 35,000 members on the platform today, which Pollen refers to as “Ambassadors.”

Pollen then works with event planners — be they music festival or concert organizers, nightclub events, or destination events such as skydiving or chartering yachts, some 500 in all including Live Nation, MGM Resorts, TAO, Hakkasan, AEG & C3; and secured partnerships with Ticketmaster, Eventbrite, Priceline, Stubhub, and SeeTickets — and negotiates a certain amount of tickets to these that will be marketed through its network of people, the members of Pollen.

These people, in turn, decide which events they want to promote to their audiences. For those who manage to shift tickets (which are not sold by Pollen but by partners like Ticketmaster or Eventbrite), they get rewards in the form of tickets to other events or other perks (but no cash). Pollen makes money by taking a cut on each sale — usually something like 10-20%, Negus-Fancey said.

Sometimes these can be very popular events, like the Reading Festival. “It’s a common misconception that most events sell out,” he told me. “In fact, there is a spectrum and you have to spend a lot of money on marketing when you are an event organizer. We are a cost effective way to market those tickets.”

Interestingly, the basic idea is that these tickets and the influencers themselves do not share their offers widely: part of the company’s terms and conditions are that its members cannot promote their offers widely on social media.

“I see us micro-influencers, more like an evolution of direct selling rather than related to what happens on Instagram,” Negus-Fancey said. “It’s not about loads of followers online. It’s much more omnichannel. Our members might connect with people in bars or pubs or schools or on WhatsApp, or even the dark web. These are about two-way conversations between close groups of friends, not one-way communication.”

At a time when we are also seeing an interesting rise in messaging-based commerce — where the focus is less scale and better connections with smaller audiences to guarantee better conversions — Pollen’s idea has had some resonance with users, as well as investors.

“We’ve known Callum and the team since early 2016 and the company has delivered on every milestone since then.” said Gareth Jefferies, Investment Manager at Northzone, an early investor in Spotify, in a statement. “The most exciting prospect for me is the potential the company has to play a pivotal role in how brands engage with an entire demographic. In a few years’ time, if the company continues to execute, Pollen can become one of the most culturally significant companies for Gen Z, and be the best way of buying not just festival tickets and holidays, but to access all sorts of products and services.”

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EVENT INTERVIEW: DAVE HASLAM on ‘LEGACY: A night for Manchester Mind/CALM with DJs Seth Troxler & Dave Haslam’

Dave Haslam is a prolific Manchester figure with a life’s worth of DJ sets behind him. He played at The Hacienda on over 450 occasions and even closed it when it shut its doors for the last time, twenty years ago. The adored nightclub has remained in the memories of thousands and is now considered a notable part of Manchester’s history. And yet, Dave has had an incredible afterlife. A man of many cards, the city-legend continues to DJ, but has also worked as a radio-host, a journalist, a writer, an event host, and a lecturer at both Manchester Metropolitan and Salford Universities.

I came across Dave’s night on Facebook whilst I was researching him for MCR Live, and saw that all proceeds from the event were to go to the mental-health-focused charities Manchester Mind and CALM. I got in touch with Haslam and we arranged to meet in West Didsbury in cafe/bar Folk. On a sleepy Sunday morning it took five minutes of my being sat down to spot my interviewee, who was sat half-hidden in a dimly lit corner. I introduced myself, and amongst the whirrings of a heavy-duty coffee machine, we began to speak about his involvement with charity, his event, the issue of mental health, and the importance of connection.

Haslam is a ‘big fan of charity’ who has stayed true to this self-proclamation throughout his life. Right back in the 80s he raised for the miners during the strikes, and he’s hosted nights to raise money in the past. For example, he did an event in Liverpool in support of the homeless. Dave remained grounded concerning his charitable activity. ‘I don’t feel at all hesitant about putting my name to causes [but] I’m not under any illusion that anything that i say or do can change anyone’s lives or help anyone. Just like anyone I think I just do what I can’. He humbly continued, ‘I’m not making myself out to be any kind of angel, it’s just an honour to be able to get involved, and if people have a good idea or a great cause then I’m always happy to encourage it.’  

This brought us onto the two organisations that Dave’s night is supporting. The Manchester man holds ongoing relationships with both charities. He detailed an example of his work for CALM: ‘About six or seven years ago I curated a compilation album and… we raised about £30,000’. This incredible amount of money is unsurprising considering that the album included quality tracks from several big Manchester names including Everything Everything, Elbow, and Noel Gallagher’s High Flying Birds. Whilst contacts like these are a little bit out of most people’s reach, this shouldn’t deter anyone from giving fundraising a go. As a DJ, hosting events, curating music and performing are all part and parcel of Dave’s daily life. What he essentially does, is take his personal interests and passions and dedicate them to the cause of others. In turn, what we should take from Dave is that dedication, because it can create real change.

Dave’s night ‘Legacy’ is taking place this Thursday at South. And he isn’t alone in hosting it. It is named as it is because it brings together two generations of club culture. Co-hosted by Detroit’s finest, in the form of Seth Troxler, ‘Legacy’ presents us with a hoard of respected producers and DJs. Keeping it local, Haslam and Troxler are set to be joined by DJs from top Manchester brands Zutekh and Micron, as well as New Order’s tour DJ TinTin. Other performers include house-expert Esqueezy of Copson, and Nick Warren of 90s electronic duo Way Out West.

Since Seth Troxler is not only of a different generation to Dave Haslam, but also another country altogether, I inquired about how the pair met. ‘In November, which is eighteen months ago now, I decided to sell my entire record collection… It was quite an instinctive thing. I posted it on Facebook and the next thing I know, it’s shared all over the internet and I get dozens of emails, including one from Seth’.

I’d read about the trade between the two DJs before, but I hadn’t been aware that it was how the two artists met. Reports read that Troxler handed over a quarter of a million pounds in return for a career’s worth of records - roughly 4500 of them. Although he carries a huge name, Seth Troxler was humble enough not to assume that Dave had heard of him (he had). The tech/house legend wasn’t humble in any other sense of the word: ‘Funnily enough, he introduced himself saying “Hi Dave, I don’t know if you’ve heard my name but I’m one of the world’s greatest DJs”’.

Following this introduction, which was charmingly described as ‘quite cheeky but true’, the pair met up in Amsterdam and held a ‘party’ to seal the deal, unwittingly preempting ‘Legacy’.

You might be wondering why the event is being held in support of mental health. If you’ve read Dave’s article on governmental cuts to mental health services, then you’d be aware that he holds the issue very dear. He seems to see mental health problems as a very human, common experience. ‘I think that there are a lot of taboos around mental health… it’s a very long term problem, I think it’s an increasing problem. I think that it’s not something which is properly funded by government. Unfortunately it’s left up to charities to deal with’.

I asked Haslam about the charities that he’d chosen to support. He explained that CALM has a focus on young men, adding his thoughts that ‘men particularly find it hard to talk about emotion and what’s bothering them’. In addition, he supported Mind on the grounds that its local activity in Manchester means that is has a ‘connection with the city’. Connection and community, or, ‘a sense of solidarity’ is something that Dave clearly found important as a response to mental anguish. 

‘I think that if you are growing up or living in a city then the one thing that you crave is somewhere where you can meet people who are likeminded, people that you get on with, your tribe, and that’s kind of what the Hacienda was to a whole generation’. He expanded on the community of the Hacienda with clear affection. ‘It really connected people, and it connected people in a very physical space which kind of reinforced everybody’s similarities. You’d be dancing next to people that ordinarily you might be a little bit wary of, or you might not normally have come across’. It’s easy to see this ring true with contemporary clubbing culture. Whilst times may have changed, the strong connection between the individual, and the experience of music has not.

Dave explained why this is the case: ‘I think that music can be a really perfect way of helping people deal with what’s going on in their lives… In some ways  I think it has to do with the message of the music resonating with people’ However as a DJ, Dave also offered another perspective. ‘DJing is something that I absolutely adore. I think it actually helps me in my life, going out and playing my favourite music to people who appreciate it’.

Whilst on the note of a shared appreciation for music, I thought to ask Dave what pieces of music he appreciated. ‘Good Life by Inner City. I don’t think I could ever listen to that without being uplifted in a way, so yeah, I think I’d probably choose that’. Feeling impossibly yet somehow intensely nostalgic for the past (embarrassingly, I was born in 1997), I found this 1988 Hacienda classic an immensely satisfying response. 

Dave and Seth’s night ‘Legacy’ is on Thursday the 13th of July. If you like thought of uplifting both yourself and others with some excellent techno, then go ahead and check out the Facebook event page here, or buy one of the last remaining tickets here on Skiddle at £13.75.

And don’t forget, if you can’t make it to Legacy or miss out on tickets, you can still donate to CALM here, or Mind here.

To find out more about CALM click here, and to get a bit more info on Manchester Mind, have a look over here.