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intjpersephone · 3 years

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🧠Since memorizing everything is some hard shit, allow me... 🧠

Science has my entire back on this one...

Now, I'm gonna be talking about three techniques, two of them are gonna help if you have a test really soon the other one is in for a long run.

"The Generation Effect"

being tested is supposed to help others evaluate your progress, but it turns out that testing isn't a very good evaluation tool.

It actually functions better as a learning tool but only if used properly. This may seem Counter-Intuitive but first, you should test yourself before you even know the material. For example, start with the practice test even before you started studying it. You'll get answers wrong, But your brain is forced to generate answers, you'll be creative, panicked and end up priming your neurology to learn the correct new answers. This technique works on "The Hypercorrection Effect": when you make a mistake on some type of general information and later find out you're wrong, you're much more likely to remember the correct answer. For example, you're certain the capital city of India is Mumbai but later find out it is in fact New Delhi, you are much more likely to remember that forever compared to somebody who was just simply told the answer New Delhi.

Your brain Hypercorrects. One theory behind this states that surprise and embarrassment play a role, That's why you probably remember everything embarrassing thing that happened to you so far 😂(😥)

Now My Personal Experience: On this one, in April, I had a 20 marks test every week and so my teachers would ask us questions related to the test during classes and I used to get most of them wrong, and after the embarrassment, the test came I actually did better than my classmates.

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"Spacing"

This one is the one for the long run now...

For spacing, you're gonna wanna practice and then almost forget the material and then practice again.

One particular study had students learning Spanish, each group had eight hours to study. The first group studied intensively for eight hours in one day while the second group studied for four hours one day and then one month later studied for another four hours and an entire month later.

So both groups had the same amount of study time just distributed differently. After only getting 8 hours of practice they tested them 8 years later.

Both groups were tested on their Spanish vocabulary and by now you probably guessed the group that spaced their studying over a month gap performed 250% better. Remember this is 8 years later that they're being tested.

My Personal Experience On This: So, in 4/5th grade, I used to jump from learning greek to french to Spanish and so on, so last year staying inside I picked french again, remember this is 4/5 years later, and remembered all the basics very well! I was surprised but now it makes sense!

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"Interleaving"

So, what studies have found is that instead of studying the same thing over and over again, if you mix up or vary the challenge the benefits are huge. At the moment this process might be a lot more frustrating and you may even think that you are learning more slowly but that's why it's so counterintuitive.

Let's take a look at some examples that could apply to your life. All of which have come from a wonderful book called "Range" by David Epison. if you have any interest in high performance and improving skills, this books will change your perspective so I highly recommend it.

First, we are gonna talk about motor skills like piano, so a particularly tricky thing to do is jump "A", big inter violin-piano really quickly so say starting at "C" and then jumping 20 keys really quickly, it takes a lot of coordination and muscle memories to do that quickly without thinking about it without accidentally hitting other keys along the way.

So this study had one group practised the 20 keys jump over and over and they have gone relatively good at it pretty quickly. But the second group had practised not only the 20 key jumps but also mixing a 15 key jump and 10 key jumps

So, ultimately they had to practise but the 20 key jumps but had interleaved or mixed practised by using a bunch of different intervals obviously it would have been a lot more frustrating to be learning multiple intervals at once the 20 key, the 15 key, the 10 key but when they brought the groups back what they found was that the group that practised interleaved or mixed practised was better every single interval including the 20 key jumps. Even though they technically had less practice with it the same has been shown in mathematics. Rather than practising one type of problem over and over, mixing different kinds of problems in between makes the process harder but develops stronger skills.

It's very shocking how bigger difference this type of interleaving makes.

Looked at math skills in grade 7 students. Those that used interleaving or mixed practice saw an effect size of approving someone's from the 50% of skill to the 80%, that is like being an average student to being someone who is definitely something brown parents will dig, which is an ultimate math god.

If you're using cue cards makes sure you're mixing up different themes within those cue cards.

My Personal Experience On This: Now, I have never really tried this before, so that's why I tried my best to elaborate on it as much as I could. But while researching on this, so far this one deeply impressed me, and my mom was a mathematics teacher before my brother was born (she also taught commerce but that's irrelevant) so, she was a middle and high school teacher and she ALWAYS keeps suggesting me, but hey, there's a reason I say relatable to a meme which is about being a disappointment 😐, anyway, I do really look forward to trying this one.

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All this research is incredibly significant because of evidence-based solutions especially in space like education.

And the idea for today's post was suggested by my wonderful girl, @agents-of-shield-fan

and if you want me to make my next post on something you have in my mind, tell me!

Now go ahead and ✨ S H I N E ✨ babe 🤗🌿💕

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genshin-hours · 3 years

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Hello dear! May I please have a Hunter and Survivor match-up please? Also if you'd like i'd be more than happy to match you with a hunter and survivor as well! Anyways, I love your blog and your writing! I hope you have a wonderful day/night!

Zodiac sign: Leo sun, Aries moon, Leo rising

Personality Type: ENTP

Pronouns: She/her

Sexuality: Straight (For now might be bi but i'm going with straight)

I'm 5'4 and I have a very tiny body frame so i'm extremely petite and pretty small. I'm not very curvy and I literally have the body of a cereal box...lol but its fine because I have nice hips and thighs. I have thick brown hair that goes down to my back and it gets tangled pretty easily but its kinda fluffy. I have brown eyes and tiny freckles all over my face and body. I also have a very strong grunge style, like Flannels, band t-shirts, combat boots, leather jackets etc. But i'd also always enjoy a nice oversized sweatshirt or hoodie with a pair of skinny, ripped jeans and some converses or something along those lines.

I have bad anxiety and I can be very self destructive. This is where my feisty, stubborn, hardheaded side comes in. If I want something then i'll fight for it even if it hurts me and i'll get into a bad cycle of putting myself down and trying to do better even if I did great the first time but I always push myself too far and other people have to stop me because I usually can't see it when its happening. I also cover my emotions up and I have a lot of trouble talking about whats bothering me or what problems i'm having emotionally so I put up a wall and I act tough, or happy and sometimes i'll be the exact opposite but I try to hide it.Weird things about me: I've grown up in the south all my life so sometimes when I talk a few words they'll come out sounding WAYYY more country and southern then I wanted, I don't have an accent but sometimes my words just come out that way. Sometimes in the middle of the night you can find me just staring at a wall or something because I can't go to sleep.....I have trouble sleeping.....

Things I like: I love swimming (I was on a swim team for about 9 years), I love horror movies, I like rain and the sounds of thunderstorms because its calming to me, I also love the smell of rain, I like cloudy days, cooking, listening to 80's and 90's rock but mainly 90's because 90's is the best, My favorite bands are Bush, Audioslave, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Linkoln Park, Pearl jam but i'm pretty open to anything.

Things I dislike: Spiders.......I will scream if I see a spider.

hello! tysm for requesting, love! and you can of course :) ty for the offer btw, that would be lovely! also I hope you have a wonderful day/night as well <3 hopefully you enjoy all these hcs, dear ♡

I ship you with....

joseph desaulnier

so, I think joseph would really like you :>

joseph is one of the shorter hunters, so you being very small makes him lowkey excited

he loves letting you rest in his lap. he marvels at how small you are and how cute you look!!!

joseph gets the whole resting bitch face thing. he is told quite often that he has a bad case of rbf lmao

he also thinks your hair is really pretty, and if you're alright with it, he will offer to help brush/comb it for you or even style it. he is surprisingly good with hair. his hair isn't just fluffy and silky on its own, you know.

also joseph is pretty good at keeping you from doing like absolutely crazy stuff. he will make sure you don't get hurt, but the second he think you might he's gonna be yelling at you in french to stop or running to try and protect you from falling

and if you do get hurt, he is the first to provide you first aid. the whole time he is blushing and cursing under his breath. he is surprised by how bold and reckless you can be.

he loves your spirit and enthusiasm, but for the love of god, please be more careful

also, joseph loves your dry humor. he laughs at all your jokes. even if you're in matches and he is supposed to be serious

joseph also has a pretty "idgaf" attitude, so you guys will get along well. he is willing to fight for something he believes in too.

joseph isn't the best with emotions either, but this gives you both an opportunity to work together at it.

you both agree to come together and share what you're comfortable with to try and figure things out. tbh he is more likely to provide you with advice rather than consolation.

he thinks your accent is really cute, and teases you for it sometimes. but he actually thinks it's adorable.

also he will help you fall asleep by stroking your hair, reading to you, laying by you, etc. he is very comforting surprisingly

joseph is also probably scared of spiders but he will toughen up to get rid of them if you need him to.

(if the spider is scary enough though, you'll be hearing swearing in french and seeing another hunter coming to deal with it lmao)

I also ship you with luca balsa!

luca and you would be cute together!

he thinks your height is adorable, and he likes how small you are when you stand together

you're not too much shorter than him (only 3 inches or so) but it's really cute to him that he can lift you up and stuff or you can sit in front of him and he can lean on you.

he likes to be alone usually when working, though he wouldn't mind if you were to lay on his bed or sit on his lap while he works, but he needs you to stay safe so you're wearing a heavy coat and safety gear lmao

he thinks your style and rbf are adorable. you're not intimidating to him, so he thinks it's funny

luca also enjoys your humor, and he finds it relatable. he always laughs at your jokes, even if you make them at bad times

luca has similar habits to you though, which makes it easy for him to spot them in you and stop you quickly before things get bad

he himself is pretty reckless at times, but, he will admit, he is a hypocrite and panics when you do something dangerous, but turns around and works with dangerous equipment

you're both not the best with emotions, but he does his best to help you. he might not be the best at consoling you, but he will do what he can to make you feel better in his own way

he might tinker with stuff to improve it for you, or try to give you helpful advice

luca would think horror movies are super neat, but he analyzes them fast, and knows all the twists and turns. he still jumps though

he likes your accent and thinks it's pretty cool! he doesn't hear many southern accents, so he finds yours very neat and soothing to listen to

luca will take the time to help you fall asleep if you can't. he has some trouble falling asleep too, so don't be surprised if he accidentally passes out on top of you once you're asleep.

he isn't a fan of lightning and thunder, but some gentle rain and pretty clouds are lovely in his opinion :)

luca is also an entp, so you two would have plenty of lively debates lmao

#identity v #idv #identity v headcanons #identity v imagines #idv headcanons #idv imagines #identity v x reader #idv x reader #idv matchups #idv photographer #idv joseph #joseph desaulnier #idv luca balsa #idv luca #idv prisoner #luca balsa

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v0idl1nq · 3 years

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Hi! I wasn't sure if you were still doing FNaF matchups but I've read your other works and thought they were so cute so I'd love to request if I could!

I'm a 5'2" nb trans adult male (they/he) with dark brown hair and hazel eyes. I'm demiromantic but love to show affection via physical touch/compliments. I'm a traditional/digital artist who loves to sing, write and bake. I adore soft things like plushies, blankets and big sweaters and collect them alongside enamel/button pins and books.

I'm a soft spoken person who has nonverbal moments (learning asl for it) that you might find sitting alone, listening to music and drawing though, if I'm comfortable, I love talking about my special interests (cartoons, ghosts and writing) and deep, emotional topics to better get to know others. I can even get absolutely manic, wild and bubbly at times around trusted people.

My turn offs are people who are impatient, dismissive or aggressive toward myself or friends. My turn ons are curious, emotionally insightful people who I can laugh and indulge in "childish" activities with.

Thank you again and keep up the amazing work! 💖

I would say I ship you with...

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. Glamrock Chica !!₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ

*ੈ✩‧ She isn't normally one for deep or emotional moments/talks, but when she does she gets reaaally into it. h!! It's her biggest love language, other than gift giving and acts of service.

*ੈ✩‧₊ Whenever she plays her guitar (electric if 'm correct) she encourages you to join in or she plays guitar solo's for ya' and asks what you think of it !!

*ੈ✩‧₊ Whenever you're drawing, she always compliments it due to how mesmerized she is. If you ever draw her, she's immediately star-struck !! She's smile widely and give ya' a big hug as she says compliments.

*ੈ✩‧₊ She loves your collection especially the button and pin one !! (she's eaten some buttons..). She loves seeing you in the hoodies and sweaters, she really loves buying you some so that she can show ya' off.

*ੈ✩‧₊ like in my Sundrop headcanons, all animatronics know sign language (it depends on the language). Especially since she's designed for children which means, she helps you from time to time and talks to you using ASL so you can use it more and can communicate more usin' it !!

*ੈ✩‧₊ She isn't normally one for deep or emotional moments/talks, but when she does she gets reaaally into it. Whenever you do have these talks, she either listens intently or talks until she finally feels light and okay. When it's your turn, she listens intently and will give ya' hugs and kisses from time to time.

*ੈ✩‧₊ One of her biggest things is she acts childish a lot due to how she was made and her franchise, it's also one of her specialties since when kids visit her, she does her best to make them happy as possible. I've just got this thing where if she had a place other than the Mazercise place, it doesn't really make sense for me that they gave 'er that so I just headcanon her having an 80's themed restaurant with the juke box and all teachin' kids how to cook or bake stuff! you both hang there a lot and it ends up really messy with flour and eggs thrown everywhere, the cleaner bots glare at you a lot now-

*ੈ✩‧₊ A/N:: finally finished this- so sorry it took long!! had school to finish since it's nearly the end of our school year!! it finishes at may so let's go!

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lochsides · 3 years

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Yellow Metal - cathartic Review

Here’s something I did not expect to be reviewing this week but when Zayn drops a 24 minute rap track, you fall in line. I had to listen to it a couple times through before I could even begin to make sense of my thoughts because my brain sort of malfunctioned. I have never been prouder to be a Zayn fan. He’s such a nuanced songwriter and there is so much to unpack here.

I think this is the most unfiltered version of Zayn that we have ever been exposed to (and possibly will ever be). I am grateful that he said his piece in this because it needed to be said. As a brown woman, I felt so seen by this and I cannot explain what that means to me. Thank you Z, for your unvarnished truth in addressing racism and various forms of discrimination.

I’m doing a short lyrical analysis below the cut, but the TLDR is that this is a fantastic piece of art that deserves to be heard.

I wish he had released this as an EP because that would be easier to review than a single 24 minute song, structurally speaking. So instead, I have picked out some key lyrics, going from top to bottom, that really spoke to me and decided to study the song that way. His lyricism is hard-hitting in this track. It is beyond anything he has ever released before.

“The planet bleeds, the damaged trees. It’s never leaving until we ascend so fuck the fence.” — I have not seen this lyric being talked about in the fandom, because the lyrics that follow this steal the show, rightly so, but I wanted to give this line a moment because it’s important too. To me, this lyric speaks to where Zayn is at with his relationship with the physical world. He’s out on the farm (about which he even goes to say “tell you what I like, farm life and the tractor”) and I believe he’s happy in his space and he feels connected to nature (also see River Road). So it is a poignant and slightly jaded, but valid perspective that he shares on climate change. It’s never leaving until we ascend. The damage human beings have done to the planet won’t be undone until there are no humans left to do damage. It’s a single sentence that says so much about the depth of the climate crisis. I’m doing my PhD on urban air quality so this is something I care really deeply about and I resonated with.

“And until they stop killing colour, it’s fuck the feds.” — Yeah, agreed Zayn. The systemic racism that he calls out here is echoed throughout the song, in equal parts anger and boldness. I love that he isn’t glossing over it with metaphors, which he could easily do and it would be beautiful in a totally different way, but this makes it harder for racists to overlook. There is so much power in calling it like it is.

“Never lose me to fentanyl, scared when I take a Benadryl, keeping it green in general.” — It frustrates me to no end to see Zayn painted as this drug-addicted lazy musician that doesn’t care about his work, because we know how untrue that is. This narrative is tired and simply boring too, and I won’t get into the racist connotations of it when you consider it against his white colleagues who smoke as much as him but that isn’t one of their defining traits in the media.

“I’m racking up excuses while I’m slacking off on work … it was hard work that got me heard” — I love the juxtaposition in this verse. The public/media perception on his career is that Zayn doesn’t put in effort or that he doesn’t want it. This obviously stems from his leaving the band. It goes back to what I was saying before about narrative, when in reality, as Zayn has said on various occasions, he fights to make his own choices. And that doesn’t have to look the way everyone else expects it to (“I beg you, don’t include me. I might write it on my shirt”), he has his own struggles that have helped forge his path, but it is his path that he paved, himself. He works hard to be heard. He has to. It reminds me of something my parents used to tell me when I was younger about being immigrants: you have to work 10 times harder for the same opportunities just because of the colour of your skin or your name on the cv. It’s a harsh truth to grow up with but it was my reality, as it is for most POC.

“This life doesn’t give you no armour, a lot of myself can harm you. I swear on what’s good, that I’m here ‘til they take me. I pray that I’m wrinkled, at least over 80…” — There is something about the simplicity of these lyrics are the messaging that I love. He isn’t trying too hard to sound poetic but he still manages it perfectly.

“All I've been achieving, clocking miles in this region, moving like a legion. Promise that I made to myself, an allegiance. Do you still believe I’m a fool for ever leaving? Staring at the ceiling, can never put a cap on achieving. I’m just here for the rap, then I’m leaving. // I’ve had about enough of being my own enemy. It’s time I grew up, a long way from 17. Always went against the grain, struggles in my life. Got some things to say when I stand up on the mike.” — This is the only 1D-related lyric I’ll make reference to because this song is about so much more than that. That said though, we cannot overlook Zayn’s experiences in the band because that is part of his story. The tongue-in-cheek of “I’m just here for the rap, then I’m leaving” is hilarious to me. The line about not wanting to be his own enemy anymore and growing up from 17 reminds me of that quote Taylor (Swift) mentioned in Miss Americana about celebrities getting stuck at the age they got famous. I think this verse is similar to that. None of them ever wanted to be in the band and I don’t care what anyone says, Zayn leaving and proving success outside the band gave the rest of them the courage to follow their own solo careers. Sure there was drama surrounding the split but he did it for himself, to tell his stories the way he is now. Whatever else you have to say about him, you cannot deny his authenticity.

“I ain’t dropping this for fame, I need this time, like therapy, it’s just to keep me sane.” — I think this line tells us 2 things, the first being that this song was not leaked. Z knew what he was doing and his twitter likes tell us as much. He didn’t release it for any sort of attention, otherwise it would be widely available on streaming platforms and for purchase. Which leads to my second point, he released this song to get everything he talks about on the track off his chest. Its referenced in other lyrics too, like “now you see where I come from, the world don’t.” This was for whoever cared to listen, not the world. It’s inaccessible for a reason. I love that he threw those lyrics in. It makes the song feel more like a private conversation or listening to a friend rant. It creates a different form of intimacy between himself and his fans.

“Lessons that I’ve learned, I’ve tried teaching to myself. What I’ve learnt from certain people is that they’re better than myself. So I surround myself with real ones, and you feel the plastic melt.” — This one is for anyone that buys into conspiracy theories surrounding Zayn’s personal life. He surrounds himself with real people, real friendships, real connections. I have never bought into the bullshit that he has zero autonomy over his personal life. I love the use of plastic melting as a metaphor for ridding his life of fakeness.

“Feeling trapped. This industry is a cage.” — Zayn is obviously not the first person to say it. Many artists talk about how suffocating the industry is ( which he further comments on in the sung portion: “I don’t wanna be, I don’t wanna be, a part of this, no, I don’t wanna be, I don’t wanna be, a part of this”). Fame is such a wild and unnatural concept and the exploitation and politics of the music industry only feed further into it. The industry being a cage makes me think of zoos and how celebrities are animals on display, when they should be free in the wild. I also really like the musical interlude following this part.

“Nobody’s speaking the truth, I’m offended by the State. Look at the state of the news, I’ve decided the argument, reciting my views.” — Zayn toes the line between keeping to himself and speaking out on important issues, sometimes not very well. I am his biggest cheerleader, but I’m not up his ass. There have been many occasions where he could’ve done better. But I cannot fault him for being offended by the State because same, Z, same. I love that he took this song as an opportunity to real speak out, no punches pulled.

“See I’ve been facing the racists from back when I were a kiddie. Born up in 93’. Living in Bradford City, they kicked me out of the school. Said they had a problem with me hitting the kids that would call me p***, still sit in the classroom, chilling. I’m angry now that I’m older cause I see they treat us different. Got me thinking I’m the problem ‘cause they never dealt with these issues.” — See what I meant about no punches pulled. He said that! He said it like that too. There is so much in this verse that I relate to, it hits a little too deep. I grew up as a brown in predominantly white communities where the colour of my skin was the reason I was outcasted. We know when that’s happening, clear as day. The lyric “got me thinking that I’m the problem cause they never dealt with these issues” says it all. I have many racial traumas that I’m dealing with as an adult because the adults around me when I was a child didn’t deal with racism in the classroom. They do treat us different!

“20 years later, I’m still in the same boat. Tryna treat me like my grandpa, say I came up off the boat. Came to tell you what I stand for. Man I think you’re shit, a joke. How can I be civil when they got me by the throat? // Pushing my feelings down, you ain’t got it like them. ‘Boy your skin is so light.’ Ok motherfucker, take my name up on a flight. Try to convince immigration that your bloodline’s half white.” — Zayn talking his shit is my new favourite art form. How can I be civil when they got me by the throat? Something that I will always be enraged by is that POC are expected to de-escalate situations of racism. We have to push our feelings down, as Zayn says in the verse, because the institution is against us. All of the institutions are against us. The fact that he takes it a step farther to say that his name makes him a target for racism, even though he is half-white just nails his point home. Also, can we please quit the whole ‘Zayn is white-passing’ bullshit. He alludes to it again later in the song (“asian in my face, but still my race you can’t define”). Its not a compliment to erase someone identity in favour of white-washing them.

“My name ain’t on the list unless they label it ethnic.” — Oh, the amount of times we have heard that age old (v. racist) saying ‘{celebrity of colour} is the new [insert white celebrity here]’ as if POC aren’t allowed to succeed in their own right. It is wild to me that Zayn has to deal with this given his level of success.

“Start to understand why they think that I’m threatening. I move in certain ways, couldn’t slow me with ketamine.” — There is a subtle nod to racism (and Islamaphobia) in this line, because of course the brown man is a threat, but I like the way Z turns it around. I also like the rhyme scheme.

“Raised on the benefit for whose benefit? They’ll never learn shit, man, if the shoe fits.” — Okay I might be reaching here, but this is just my interpretation. We all know the benefit system in the UK sucks. Being raised on benefit implies a lack of money growing up, but the benefits aren’t really all that beneficial to the families that rely upon them.

“Dealing with the hurt, they should know cause they don’t deserve it, it hit deep cause I hit the nerve.” — Well, okay then, just call me out. It’s fine. I seriously feel like he’s talking to me directly with this line. I imagine a lot of us do. Its one of those lyrics that are a bit too honest but that why we love them.

“Cathartic, I’m an artist. Trying to put my heart in” // “Freedom fighter, Yellow Metal is my name.” — So do we have an alternate persona for Zayn now? Alright, I’m down. I think these two lines are tied together, because both are mentioned in the song title. (I think of the song as cathartic, by Yellow Metal, aka Zayn, or Yellow Metal as the name of the EP if this was officially released). The lyrics that accompany both title lyrics, along with the subject matter of the song as a whole, suggest that his heart is in standing up against injustices. I said it earlier, this is the most unvarnished version of Z that we have ever been exposed to. Almost like the complete picture to the puzzle pieces we’ve been putting together over the years.

“They’re tryna kill us with disease.” — Why did this line scream out ‘COVID-19 outbreaks in developing countries’ to me? Again, I might be reaching, but there is a disparity between how COVID is treated amongst minorities, along with many other diseases, and not to mention rich, primarily white countries hoarding vaccine supplies while places like India (and my beautiful Bangladesh and I’m sure Pakistan too) suffer needlessly.

“Started something sick and on my mind is what’s next. Just became a dad so now I’m taking all the cheques. Better know I’m staying and paying like it’s debt. Imma get it done, if it’s taking all my breath, sweat, and down I ain’t messing around ’til I’m the best.” — I think this lyric shows off Zayn’s sentimental side more than it does his ambitious side, because we know he’s in this for the long haul. Others may doubt that but his fans never have. But hearing him talk openly about being a father on a song is something else. It’s like Khai added this whole other layer of meaning and purpose to his life and it’s beautiful to watch. I’ve been here since the X-Factor auditions guys!! It makes me so emotional to witness him like this.

“Aint many of me around, p***, I’m just different. Certain stages to this level aint here because fame is to the devil, fuck a label, imma do this from the ghetto.” — God, we’ve been waiting for a fuck the label moment in this house, haven’t we? I won’t get into my theories on his label or his team, but none of us deny the fact that they should be doing more for him than they are. He has the potential to be the biggest thing with the right team and promo because he has a built-in fan base that would go the mile for him. Obviously, there’s also his aversion to promo to contend with and that’s his decision. Even without it, he could shatter every ceiling. Another thing I want to mention about this verse is the nod to the complete lack of South Asian representation in contemporary Western media.

“Don’t know what’s worse: the way that you live your life or the way that you write a verse.” — I’m just putting this in here because it made giggle. Also going to take this space to say how much I love his energy in this song. He knows he’s the shit, as he should!

“Can’t be louder … so free Gaza on my banner.” // “They’re hating on Palestine ways.” — I love that Zayn has always supported this movement, years ago, before being ‘woke’ was a thing. But now, he has a daughter that has Palestinian heritage and I’m sure that makes this hit that much deeper for him, personally. The apartheid in Palestine is heart-wrenching. It’s so strange to me to watch it happen, because I never thought I would witness something like this happening in 2021, yet here we are.

“Like vipers, I see the sly ones, the snake that’s called Biden, none of them abiding what they might put in writing. We should be used to it by now, say whatever for the vote and then just choose another route. Say they’d never kill another unless that brother’s skin is brown. I’m just telling you the facts, if you can’t take it, the truth naked, to bare bones and my thoughts lately, spitting politics.” — This verse is straight up savage and I am living for it! I find it hilarious that he called Biden a snake. This verse addresses the truth about politics, that even electing a left-wing leader doesn’t fix the system.

“I’m Tony Stark, still embarking on a dream” // “Gone green like Bruce Banner” // “He taught me like Ra’s Al Ghul. Felt like living in Gotham, the people were rotten.” — And to tie it all off, I wanted to take a goofy moment to mention all the superhero lyrics Z added in this song, really showing his personality because I’m such a nerd when it comes to this stuff and it makes me wish that we were friends so I could annoy him to death about it.

#reviews #zayn #yellow metal #cathartic #zayn malik

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night-unfurls-its-splendour · 3 years

Text

The Critique of Manners Part VI

~Or~

An Attempt at an Objective Review of Emma (2009)... VOLUME TWO

Haha, bitches you didn't think I could wait a whole week did you? Nah, not me. and guys, I added to it--all total, it's 9,023 words now. this half of the review is 5,214. HOW DO I HAVE SO MANY WORDS FOR THIS THING? I'm not gonna split it into a third part, because I don't need to for picture limit purposes, but buckle in.

If you didn't catch it, read part 1 here

Here it is, the stunning conclusion to my Emma Adaptation Review series (but this isn't really the end because I plan on doing some rankings later). In this half of my review of BBC'S Emma (2009) we'll discuss Costumes and all the very specific things that I love about this version, and some things I don't like, and some things I'm here to defend.

Let's dive in!

Costumes

Generally I liked these costumes pretty well. They were designed and facilitated by Rosalind Ebbutt, also known for her work on PBS’s Victoria and Vanity Fair (1998). And her work is, as her filmography would suggest, by turns, great and so-so.

These costumes are definitely in line with the adaptation’s general aesthetic: warm pinks and golds, with mints emeralds and blues to cool it off a little, are the order of the day. I really appreciate that every character has a definite color palette. The tradeoff is that this adaptation is the WORST EVER offender for the Jane Fairfax Blue™ trope.

Daywear

Emma’s daywear is full of warm and muted colors. Salmon and magenta are commonly seen. I love that most of Emma’s daywear consists of sleeveless or short-sleeved gowns with wide-sleeved linen blouses underneath. It’s not a commonly seen aesthetic so it feels light and fresh. My favorite of Emma’s daywear dresses is the pale yellow with purple floral print.

There’s one other in particular that I love.

Emma’s blue, sleeveless dress. I love this because of HOW OBVIOUSLY it’s a reference to this portrait of Charlotte, Princess of Wales. I mean...

I’M NOT IMAGINING THIS, RIGHT? WHY DOES NO ONE TALK ABOUT THIS? This is a REAL dress. They still have this exact gown of Princess Charlotte’s. It’s on display. It’s faded, but it’s the same dress.

Harriet has a fresh and innocent green, white and purple color scheme with healthy doses of peach and pink showing. I particularly like her white and purple floral print dress.

Mrs. Weston’s color palette varies, but leans heavily on tans and purples, which is very flattering, I must say, to Johdi May’s coloring and is really refreshing for Mrs. Weston who seems to get stuck in pinks and yellows a lot. No idea what’s going on with the laced-front dress though? This doesn’t quite read as authentic to me, but I do like that her first dress seems to be an apron-front.

I know I already said that this is the worst Jane Fairfax Blue™ offender, but guys I can’t stress it enough. WE ARE 5/5 ON DAYWEAR HERE. LOOK AT THAT. (Also of note, Jane 5 is one of Gwyneth Paltrow’s dresses from the '96 Emma.)

Mrs. Elton seems, at all times, to be wearing some form of pink, but I think I’m right in saying that the white day dress with the rose patterned bodice under the yellow and pink spencer is one of Jane’s dresses from P&P ’80. Can anyone confirm that? They did sneak in some Mrs. Elton Orange™ though, for Box Hill, and it’s worth noting that Mrs. Elton is the only lady who’s appropriately dressed on that occasion.

Isabella gets some understated day gowns that are very nice and also VERY “Jane Austen” in the sense that I feel like Jane Austen herself might have worn them.

Miss Bates, unfortunately is slapped with brown at just about every turn, but at least her “Nice” day outfit has some subtle leaf patterns, which is refreshing. Also Mrs. Goddard has a slappin’ cap. Love that.

Also, Harriet’s Grecian costume for the painting (upper right hand corner). What can I say, but that I love it. I love that it hints at the neoclassical influences on Regency fashion too. This is my favorite interpretation of the painting too.

Evening Wear

You know what I love about this version? It’s the first version of Emma where her gown for the Crown in Ball isn’t WHITE. I know, I know white was fashionable, but it’s just… it’s nice for not EVERY gown in a ball scene to be plain white friggin muslin and also, it’s not one she’s ever worn before, which is great.

Harriet does have only white evening gowns but that’s okay. My only complaint is that, specifically on her Crown Inn dress and in a lot of her costumes in general, the waistline seems just a little low. Hmm. I really like the pale blue pattern on her first evening dress though.

Mrs. Weston though. Woo. Look at those. She has a dark chartreuse gown with black lace trim that any other version would have put on Mrs. Elton, so you know from the dark tones that she’s a bitch. Not so with Emma '09, and that’s good. And her teal dinner number is a favorite of mine. I never paid much attention to her green and gold ball gown but it has some really beautiful, subtle leaf or maybe peacock feather patterns on it and I love that. My only problem is that there seem to be some fit issues. She’s got muffin top way too often. Her orange evening dress is a bit of a dud though, firstly, because it has long sleeves (which is an evening gown no-no) and the fabric slaps a bit too much of sari fabric for my tastes.

Jane, not only is put in blue with both of her evening gowns (although one is so pale it borders on white), ONE of them is another Emma ’96 repeat and not only that, it’s one of Jane Fairfax’s dresses in that film! Perhaps that’s enough to make it an homage, and I have to say, I think Laura Pyper wore it better.

Miss Bates only has one evening wear ensemble, but at least it’s cream and not brown.

Mrs. Elton’s gowns are surprisingly understated, and yet still seem to be annoyingly fussy and, what’s better? They’re not sickly green. One of them is actually a very pleasant mint.

Outerwear

Outerwear is roundly pretty great here. Emma’s primary choice of color for spencers is emerald/evergreen and one of them is Elizabeth’s Bennet’s from the 1995 P&P (though to be honest, I think Jennifer Ehle filled it out better.) I do love Mrs. Elton’s pink and yellow number with the slashed sleeves. Jane Fairfax’s only spencer is, you guessed it, blue, but her friend Miss Campbell has a rather fun mauve one.

There’s no shortage of pelisses and redingotes either. Harriet can be seen in one borrowed from Elinor Dashwood in the '08 S&S, Mrs. Weston has a rather fabulous purple one which she wears with the most delicious looking hat I’ve ever seen.

Emma has two. The first one is a great magenta number with military braiding (and I think she wears with it one of the brown slouch hats that Kate Beckinsale wore in the same role) and while the other pelisse is brown, they had the sense not to make her wear a hat with it that was also brown. Instead, they gave her a contrasting color. Good on ya, Rosalind!

Speaking of hats, I don't often single them out for commentary, but I want to here because… the hat authenticity is… kinda spotty. Let me show you.

Okay first of all, Emma may be a teenager in this pic on the upper left, but she is not dressed formally enough for her sister’s wedding (which is what’s going on in this scene) but at least her hat is pretty good. You can see the ribbons are on the inside of the hat here, which is as it should be… but she never wears this hat again. At any point in the series. Instead, we next see her in the one on the upper right and ye gads this is atrocious. WHY IS HER HAT NOT PINNED ON? IT’S SLIDING DOWN THE BACK OF HER HEAD. SOMONE FIX IT. PLEASE. But wait, there’s more. This kills me because these bottom two are so similar to the one she wore earlier (the correct one) but crappier looking. Jeez.

This is not a hat. It’s a peanut. You know who doesn’t have this problem? Harriet. She only has one sun hat but at least it’s correct.

I also wanna touch briefly on this ^ costume continuity issue.

WTF is this? She’s in the hall, her ribbon is contoured to the line of her dress; she goes into the drawing room and… it isn’t anymore? Wha happun?

I took more menswear screencaps for this version than any other version. And that’s because the men just have more outfits that are, y’know, different from each other.

Mr. Knightley is as understated as ever, but I wanna highlight the first pic there and why I love it. This is Knightley’s first appearance in the series and it’s the perfect establishing shot that shows the viewer everything they need to know about Emma and Knightley’s relationship and how it has always been. He sort of materializes, out of focus in the background, but Emma immediately knows he’s there. And to accentuate how much Knightley is part of her home and scenery, his clothes (similar shades of pale tan, white and minty green to the wall behind him) almost camouflage him and make him seem at one with the moulding.

He also has a rather lovely blue evening waistcoat that I WISH I could have gotten better shot of (although I do believe it’s also worn by Henry Crawford in the '07 Mansfield Park, so for further reading…)

Mr. Weston finally gets to wear clothes that aren’t all brown! He only has ONE brown outfit. He gets PATTERNED waistcoats, one of them a rather spiffing blue and brown striped number. And he wears TROUSERS! Because he’s a gentleman, and he’s not that old and trousers are worn by fashionable gentlemen in this period!

You know who else gets to wear trousers and at least one fun waistcoat? Mr. Woodhouse. Check out that lovely Sunday Best™ waistcoat. The red striped one. That’s delightful.

John Knightley’s evening wear intrigues me. That’s a double-breasted jacket, and you know I’m not totally sure that’s very authentic for evening-wear of this period, but it is different. Unfortunately he also has a flared top hat and that is definitely not on for this period.

One of my favorite things about this version is that they don’t dress Mr. Elton as a clergyman all the time. Yes, he may be the vicar, but he’s also allowed to dress like a fashionable, handsome young man. So I’m really happy that he gets to flex his fashion muscles here.

And speaking of fashionable young men, FINALLY frank gets to be COLORFUL and his trousers are even tight enough. Both he AND Elton are often seen wearing TWO waistcoats, as I would expect them to, and even though Frank’s a dandy, he knows that flashiness is gauche so his pops of color are bright, but not in your face. His green and red waistcoats are always worn under more muted colors, and I just love it.

The only problems are… what’s with the turned-down waistcoat collars? There’s no precedent for this, in fact I think it’s directly contradictory to the style at the time, and also it makes the cravats look a bit unruly.

A Critique of Manners

A lot has been said about the manners in this adaption. Like, the actual manners, body language and facial expressions, specifically vis-à-vis Romola Garai.

And, oh yeah, there’s a lot to pick at here, but first I’d like to talk about the facial expressions.

I'm mostly gonna be talking out of my ass here, but this is my take, so if anyone can make a better argument against my points, I am listening, because I don't really like talking out of my ass and I like to be informed. That said...

I tend to be lenient on the… exaggerated facial expressions because, something I’ve noticed reading Austen’s works through the last several months is that Austen is very descriptive when it comes to facial expressions and I just find it hard to believe that people in the Regency Era never made exaggerated expressions like this.

I’ve heard a lot about how Garai’s Emma is not dignified or lady-like. But let’s think about the context of Emma Woodhouse – she’s never been in society. She’s only had a governess to teach her, and we know Emma’s always been sort of averse to being told what she can and can’t do. Emma is the highest ranking woman in her social circle (barring Isabella’s occasional presence). Emma doesn’t have to be ladylike. At 21, she’s already her local Lady Catherine. She puts a lot of stock in her position in society but, as Mrs. Elton will be the first to hypocritically point out, she’s very poorly behaved. I'd be very curious to see what would happen if Emma went to London for the season. Probably, she'd be seen, comparatively, as a country bumpkin. Can you imagine how she might get on in a sea of accomplished young ladies? She can barely handle having ONE rival with any kind of grace.

Austen never describes bodily movements of the kind we’re looking at when we watch adaptations, so why not have Emma’s body-language be un-ladylike in the conventional sense of the time? I’m not saying this to excuse the absolutely inexcusable (Frank’s head in her lap, kneeling on the sofa backwards etc.), but while Emma’s mannerisms aren’t exactly ladylike for her time, they’re not overtly masculine either (which was one of my biggest problem with Death Comes to Pemberly for example.)

Yes, there’s an ideal for manners. But we know real people didn’t always follow those ideals. In dancing for example, many dancing guidebooks of the day were full of repeated instructions not to be too loud or rambunctious when dancing. What this tells us is that people were doing just that, and probably quite a bit, too. I think that, while taking societal strictures into account, we shouldn’t totally discount the idea that people in the Regency weren’t really that different from us, and young people especially.

Now I’ve already mentioned some of the inexcusable aspects of interaction in this adaptation and they’re so notorious at this point, I don’t think that I really need to go over them much here. Although I will say: is it ridiculous to have Frank Churchill put his head in Emma’s lap? Yes. Did it make me more viscerally uncomfortable with the situation on Box Hill than any other version? Yes.

I was like, 14 when I watched this the first time. This was an effective way to telegraph to young people like me that Emma is being extremely inappropriate here in a way that no other version really managed to, even when I watched them when I was older and understood the period more. I’m far more acquainted with Regency manners than I was then, but to be honest – if they had been accurate with the manners here, when I was 14 I would not have understood what the big deal was. Is there merit in circumventing historical accuracy in favor of reaching a less-informed but still-interested audience? Yes, I think so. There were three other versions of this, at that point, that did this scene with more or less pristine manners. Not every version has to follow the manners of the time to-the-letter to be good. That’s my feeling on the matter.

There are things that do really bother me though. Like the idea that Harriet Smith doesn’t know how to spoon soup, for instance. As I said in my review for the Miramax version, table manners are pretty basic, there’s no reason Mrs. Goddard wouldn’t have taught Harriet this. It does provide a good moment to show Emma tacitly coaching Harriet and showing the trajectory in which this relationship will go, but personally I don’t think it was necessary—there are plenty of other ways that could be done.

Also: kids at the dinner table? I know this is part of building the familial atmosphere but it really does annoy me, because apart from building the familial atmosphere (which they do very well and frequently in other ways) it really didn’t need to happen, and it doesn’t add anything.

The Heart of Highbury

So, as I’ve hinted at throughout this review, the bread and butter of this adaptation of Emma is emotion. This version goes hard and heavy on showingthe relationships – Emma’s relationships with Mrs. Weston, Mr. Knightley, her father, her sister, her brother-in-law, Miss Bates; Jane’s relationship with Frank; Frank’s relationship with his father; The John Knightleys’ home life – and it illustrates things that can be surmised from just reading the story, but really draws your attention to them in ways that other adaptations just don’t.

It does this from the very beginning with the prologue which explains in detail (not just in quick exposition between characters) how Jane and Frank were separated from their families at young ages. We know now, from psychological study, that being taken away from their primary caretakers during their formative years is one of the most psychologically traumatizing things for a child. This is deeply important context which is explained in detail by the narrator in 2-3 large pages (in my Barnes & Noble anthology) in the book.

In the featurette on the houses, they talk particularly about Hartfield and the Woodhouses being the heart of Highbury and how they particularly wanted it to feel homey because Hartfield is Emma’s house and they wanted the audience to feel why everyone is so drawn to it, and to Emma; to me that is what they did with the whole adaptation in microcosm.

I usually talk a bit about the dancing and I'm going to here as well because this is maybe the most special dance scene in any Austen for me. Of course I'm going to link to Tea with Cassiane as usual because she knows what she's talking about and I don't. But I wanna add some comments. She gives this a pretty low rating in spite of a generally favorable commentary because of two big oopsies, the circle dance formation is one, and the other is I believe, an issue with the style of dance not matching the tune in Emma's dance with Knightley. Throwing out any objective technical analysis though, this is my favorite Ball in any Austen and it all comes down to the cornerstone of this adaptation--emotion.

All of the songs and dances were original compositions and choreography made for this adaptation. So they're not period per se, but the tunes at least are representative of how Regency dance music should sound. These dances are upbeat, and lively and, damn they look like fun. Everyone is excited here and it makes me understand why dancing was such a big thing. Best of all that excitement adds to the emotional charge of the scene. "The Ship's Cook" is the most fast paced dance and I'm glad they made this the dance where Elton snubs Harriet because it really hits for me just what Harriet would be missing out on if Knightley wasn't so fucking aptly named. In all other versions you get the insult, but the dance that's taking place is usually a Baroque walker so it doesn't seem terribly like she's missing out on much. Here, this is like not getting picked for kickball-- not only is it a slight that no one wants you on their team, but you miss out on even playing the game. Harriet looks so lonely, and her feeling of being out of place rolls off of Louise Dylan so forcefully it chokes me up just thinking about it because I've been there, man. I feel this shit. *dabs eyes*. Ahem. So, yes, when Knightley engages her for the dance the excitement the viewer feels is that much more forceful and Harriet's exuberantly starting to jump in when the timing is off and Knightley gently pulling her back, it just hits me in the feels center, guys. (I wanna take a moment to give a shout out to every camp counselor who ever partnered with me for any game at summer camp.) Emma's reaction too, is gold. Her genuine relief at Knightley swooping in is one of those great reminders that Emma is Harriet's friend, and she does care about her.

Finally on the dancing front, I wanna talk about Emma's dance with Knightley and why I prefer it to the one in the 2020 version. I already talked about this a bit in the 2020 review, so I'm gonna try and keep it brief. That shouldn't be too hard, because I'm probably mostly going to repeat a lot of what I've already said about Emma and Knightley in this version as a whole.

The big thing everyone loves about the Crown Inn dance in the 2020 is the yearning, the sexual tension, the quivering touches etc. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE all of those things but... not all the time. Not in everything, and definitely not in Emma. Because Emma, to me, isn't about repressed sexuality or heated tension or seething passion. Emma and Knightley are the opposite of that, to me, really. One of my mutuals put it best, I think: "Emma and Knightley are more suited to stolen glances than hot touches."

In Part 1 I talked about how Knightley is Emma's comfort object. When Emma is out of sorts, Knightley re-centers her. It helps set up, and puts emphasis on, the crisis of the story in the last act--Emma not knowing what she has until [she thinks] she's lost it. Emma and Knightley are Friends to Lovers done as it should be. She is already so comfortable with him she doesn't even realize her own feelings. She just feels right with Knightley and that's what this dance is here to show you--a foreshadowing of matrimonial harmony.

The dance itself, of course, is always up to interpretation, because Austen never describes how it goes, just that Knightley asks Emma to dance and Knightley doesn't dance (barring charitable causes). If you prefer the sexual tension take, if that, to you is an improvement on Austen's story and gives you what you've always felt was missing, I'm glad that there is a version now that gives you what you've been looking for, but for me, I think the 09 approach hits closer their dynamic in the book.

Now do I do think the Emphasis on emotion maybe went a little too earnest in some places in this adaptation? Maybe. Just a little.

In my last review (1972) I went on a rather lengthy tirade about the scene where they turn Emma’s appeals to Harriet to exert herself and move on following Mr. Elton’s marriage into Emma guilting Harriet into thinking she’s a bad friend for being heartbroken and then throwing her into the situation most likely to rub salt in that particular wound.

In this version, while I love the emphasis they put on the stress Emma puts on her own guilt for being the reason for Harriet’s situation in the first place, I think it’s maybe a little too… much.

That’s the only way I can put it. I know I’ve just said that I think there should be a bit more expressiveness in period drama, but this doesn’t quite match the way I read it (Emma’s a bit less desperate in Austen’s prose. Very dedicated to helping Harriet feel better, but just a skosh more composed). I think she’s even crying in this scene.

While we’re here let’s go over to Box Hill ONE. MORE. TIME.

First of all, this is where this screenplay shines, in my opinion. This is the big turning point in the story and as such, should be a touchstone for the judgment of any adaptation. This sequence in the 2009 version is a perfect crystallization of everything I love about this version—namely that this is the version that, to me, most feels like someone read the book thoroughly, paid attention to what Austen was describing and then actually tried to convey it on screen. A lot of other versions sort of feel (to me), like the director glanced at the page and said “here’s what I want to convey in my version”. Insofar as making a piece of art goes, that’s good. Directors are artists as much as painters are and movies are their canvass, but it’s seldom that you find a director who honestly wants to hit as close to the author intent as possible and this Box Hill sequence makes me feel like that’s what Jim O’Hanlon was going for. I have the book open next to me as I write this and it’s shocking to me how minutely the atmosphere described in the book is conveyed here. Most of all, the fact that Emma’s insulting Miss Bates is not the only thing faux pas she makes here. Box Hill as a whole is a disaster, and it’s largely because of Frank.

“When they all sat down it was better; to [Emma’s] taste, a great deal better, for Frank Churchill grew talkative and gay, making her his first object. To amuse her, and to be agreeable in her eyes, seemed to be all that he cared for—and Emma, glad to be enlivened, and not sorry to be flattered, was gay and easy too, and gave him all the friendly encouragement, the admission to be gallant, which she had ever given in the first and most animating period of their acquaintance; but which now, in her own estimation, meant nothing, though in the judgment of most people looking on it must have had such an appearance as no English word but flirtation could very well describe. “Mr. Frank Churchill and Miss Woodhouse flirted excessively.” They were laying themselves open to that very phrase—and to having it sent off in a letter to Maple Grove by one lady, to Ireland by another. Not that Emma was gay and thoughtless from any real felicity; it was rather because she felt less happy than she expected. She laughed because she was disappointed…” --Emma, Chapter 43

Most other versions rush through Frank’s “excessive” flirting with Emma (Right in front of Jane) to get to “Three Things Very Dull Indeed” as fast as possible, and yes that’s the crowning horror of Box Hill, but there’s a very intricate setting here, too, and this version has the time to lay back and let it all unfold in the oppressive discomfort of an English summer day.

Even better than all of that though is Knightley confronting Emma after it all goes down. This treatment is neither plaintive, nor aggressive as it was in ‘96 and ‘97 respectively. I’ve already extolled the virtues of Johnny Flynn’s Box Hill rebuke, but for a change I’m not going to zero in on Miller’s performance which is, at least as good as Flynn’s, but on Romola Garai’s, which I find superior to Anya Taylor Joy’s. Specifically, her reaction once she’s alone.

ATJ in the 2020 version immediately breaks down sobbing and it’s hard for me to feel that she’s sobbing for “anger against herself, mortification, and deep concern” or that there’s much self-reflection going on there. To me it rather just feels like she’s crying because she got shouted at. The theatrics of it, to me, feel childish and self-centered.

I don’t feel that with Garai’s performance.

“She was vexed beyond what could have been expressed—almost beyond what she could conceal. Never had she felt so agitated, mortified, grieved, at any circumstance in her life. She was most forcibly struck . . . How could she have exposed herself to such ill opinion in anyone she valued! And how to suffer him to leave her without saying one word of gratitude, of concurrence, of common kindness!

Time did not compose her…” --Emma, Chapter 43

Of course one can make the case that Emma's reaction should be a bit childish because Emma is an immature character, but that's the thing--I can agree with you anywhere else in this story but this is Emma's maturing moment. This is her turning point as a character. It's where we should see her reactions shift from the same childish denial we're used to seeing when Knightley scolds her, because this is different. It's not the usual brushing off of big brother Knightley, this is a young woman reacting to an esteemed friend pointing out how abhorrently inappropriate she's been and her having to admit that to herself.

I didn't really want to drag comparisons to the 2020 film into this, not on this scale at least, but this just jumped out at me the last time I watched the new film and I have to express it somewhere.

What I see in Garai’s performance is desolation and mortification. That shocked tearfulness of knowing you’ve been justly reproached for wrongdoing, but being too frozen in a pretense of composure to actually cry about it until you’re quite sure that no one will see you. And especially when it’s someone you esteem rebuking you, the horror of them leaving before you can admit that they’re right. There’s so much more depth here, I think, and I can’t even quite express what it makes me feel.

The aspect of time not composing her is another thing that they decided to put stress on in this version. Emma looks fucked up in the following scenes. When she goes to see Miss Bates, she clearly either hasn’t slept or has slept very badly. I feel like this is maybe an anticlimactic conclusion to this section but I’m afraid I’m very close to reaching incoherence, so I’m just gonna leave it here.

My absolute favoritest thing about this version though—something that sets it apart from ALL other versions and even adaptations of other Austen stories—is the inclusion of the post-confession conversation.

This is something of a trope in Austen books but it very rarely finds its way into adaptations: confessions of love are out of the way, the hero and heroine settle into an easy an comfortable conversation, glowing with happiness as they explain and laugh over their actions and misinterpretations of each other’s choices. It happens in Pride and Prejudice, in Persuasion, and yes, in Emma. This is the only Austen adaptation, that I've seen, to include this kind of conversation in any kind of detail. The 1995 Pride and Prejudice alludes to the corresponding scene in it its source material, but the lines pulled from it get tossed into the confession scene itself and then it flies through to get to the obligatory wedding—a side effect of rushing through endings, a convention I’m rather tired of.

Emma (2009) takes its time with this, as with all other aspects of this adaptation. For a version that’s so full of energy, its pacing is extremely laid back and comfortable, without dragging. When you hear the gentle musical swell and Emma and Knightley have their kiss (this whole confession sequence is so sweet and wonderful in its own right), you expect that to be it. But no, we cut to them, the picture of contented happiness, sitting together on a bench overlooking Hartfield’s garden, just talking and enjoying being together, with no teasing, no pretense. If Jane Austen stories emphasize anything, it’s the importance of communication in relationships, and I think that’s maybe why she made it a point in almost every story to show her characters communicating their feelings in words, even after all the conflict has been resolved. This is my favorite scene in the whole series (In case it being my header image didn’t make that obvious.)

This is followed rather promptly by a cut to the next day, with Emma bursting in to Donwell in hysterics about how they can’t be married because she won’t leave her father alone.

This is one of those maybe over-the-top choices that a lot of people don’t like, but guys, it was so funny to me when I was fourteen and it still makes me laugh. It might seem outlandish, but to me it’s just the emphasis on personal relationships and emotion coming through again and it always makes me smile.

Final Thoughts

It’s hard for me to give a proper round up of my feelings for this section because I think I’ve poured just about all of my feelings on each aspect into its dedicated sections.

At the end of the day, the only thing that really disappoints me about this version is the number of missed opportunities there are here. One of my favorite parts of reading Austen is when I run across a line in dialogue or narrative that just… slaps. But they never make it into the adaptations. Emma is full of them and I just wish that Sandy Welch could have taken an opportunity to slip a few of them in.

In summary, I think this is a wonderful, heartfelt adaptation aimed at getting to the emotional heart of a story that often gets caught up in the Mean Girl-ness of its main character than the coming of age story that it is. It's one of my favorite period dramas because it's one of the few that really captures the spirit of the source material as it's always felt to me. There's really only two other period dramas that I esteem on the same level as this, and they're North & South (2004) and Jane Eyre (2011) and it's for the same reasons; because they impact me deeply on an emotional level--which is what art is supposed to do--because of how well it captures the essence of the story that I know and love.

So did I succeed in a more objective review of Emma 2009? I' feel like probably not. But I tried my best. It’s so hard to be objective about something that makes you as happy as this adaptation makes me.

Ribbon Rating: Most Agreeable (83 Ribbons)

Tone: 10

Casting: 9

Acting: 9

Scripting: 7

Pacing: 10

Cinematography: 7

Setting: 9

Costumes: 6

Music: 8

Book Accuracy: 8

#emma 2009 #emma woodhouse #mr. knightley #jane austen #jane austen emma #romola garai #jonny lee miller #period dramas #regency

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heroofpenamstan · 3 years

Text

—OC PROFILES: JOANNE & MICHAEL

tagged by the lovelies: @shallow-gravy, @shellibisshe, @belorage, @honeysides, @strafethesesinners, @faithchel, @blissfulalchemist! thank you, dears! x since i’m tragically late to the party as per usual, not going to be tagging anyone since i assume most of my mutuals have done it, but if you want to go right ahead and tag me too so i can see! :”)) also, fair warning: 80% of the questions i answered at ungodly hours overmedicated on paracetamol and it shows because re-reading this in the morning was a Yikes

GENERAL

name: joanne burton alias(es): jo, annie ( mike exclusive ), burton, dep, jr. deputy, rook, traitor, sinner, wrath/pain in the ass ( john exclusive ), rabbit ( jacob exclusive ), heinous fucking bitch—( also john exclusive ), black widow ( new dawn au ) gender: cis. female age: 29 birth: 30th october, 1988 place of birth: meridian, idaho spoken languages: english; may or may not recite some hebrew lines over the holidays sexual preference: bisexual occupation(s): junior deputy of hope county, montana/menace to all cultists everywhere ( in a certain radius of said hope county, montana, anyway )

APPEARANCE

eye colour: brown hair colour: black height: 157cm ( 5′2 ), or approximately 7′11 when balancing on michael’s shoulders to peer inside john’s windows scars: split right eyebrow ( thanks, jake ), minor cuts and incorrectly healed bruises and gashes, scarred bullet wound on left hip ( you’re welcome, jake )

FAVOURITE

colour: orange or yellow or cyan, or whatever is more stupidly eye-catching and not at all fit for her current environment song: i’ve been thinking by handsome boy modeling school food: various stir-fries, fruits and protein ( or anything that she claims to be “healthy” when, truly, bitch is one step away from living off of instant noodles and canned pineapple and cigarette buds from dutch’s stash ) drink: beerherbal teas and infusions

HAVE THEY

passed university: no, but passing the police academy was already a pleasant enough surprise for her had sex: today? no. two weeks ago? probably had sex in public: probably said two weeks ago gotten pregnant/ someone else pregnant: yes, but we don’t talk about it kissed a boy: yes ( derogatory ) kissed a girl: yes ( affectionate ) gotten tattoos: yes, loads: most were practice scribbles for her ex-girlfriend, and the only true meaningful one she possesses is lydia, scrawled into her pinky in remembrance. otherwise, john seed do not even engage with that rusty ass tattoo gun— gotten piercings: yes, loads multiplied; if there’s a place for a piercing in her ears, she has them. also, an old septum piercing she hasn’t worn in a hot second been in love: yes, loads squared ( girl rents out her heart on the weekdays and cries about the scratches she notices on saturday, but still repeats it all over again come monday; falling in love for her is easy, but actually loving someone and getting over her self-loathing to do so is a whole different ball game ) stayed up for more than 24 hours: she’s probably on hour 31 as we speak ( someone knock her out pls )

ARE THEY

a virgin: whitehorse has heard enough horror stories in the break room between her and joey to last him a lifetime a cuddler: closeted cuddler, yes a kisser: most definitely; woman has to play up her natural assets scared easily: her response time is too lagged for that jealous easily: depends; she’s more jealous of what she should have/could have/would have had in a general sense than being jealous of a particular person or a thing trustworthy: in her own way, yes dominant: disgustingly so submissive: not in this lifetime in love: very much so single: very much so part 2

RANDOM QUESTIONS (tw for self harm/suicide mention)

have they harmed themselves: yes, but it’s more by means of unintentional yet severe substance abuse thought of suicide: not as often as one would assume; joanne has a very strong sense of self-preservation, but tends to run from her bleak reality by means of one harmful way or the other attempted suicide: once or twice during her lowest points in life wanted to kill someone: on the daily have/had a job: girl had juggled three part-time jobs; there is nothing she fears anymore have any fears: ( see above ) to fall back into old bad habits, loss of control, death, failure, a bad future, poverty, being abandoned and forgotten, long stays at a hospital, the judges, the bliss, the power of john’s hair gel

FAMILY

sibling(s): micah burton ( older brother ) parent(s): abigail burton née belman ( mother ); jim burton ( father ) children: asher seed ( daughter in new dawn au ) significant other: jacob seed ( circumstantial lover/”could do without” mentor/#prisonwife #prisonhusband #imkidding #kinda ) pets: boomer for the cuddles, cheesecake for the throttles ( bitch naturally attracts the judges but will forget her dog 101 and run away like what does she think will happen then?? )

GENERAL

name: michael scott-hughes alias(es): mike, mikey, mickey ( mary may exlusive ), mike the bike/fall’s end’s bicycle, resistance’s poster boy, manwhore, cassanova, the archangel ( joseph exclusive ), the antichrist ( also joseph exclusive ), war dog, hughes boy ( fairgrave exclusive ) gender: cis. male age: 30 birth: 6th july, 1988 place of birth: fall’s end, montana spoken languages: english, russian, basic chinese mandarin and turkish sexual preference: pansexual occupation(s): residential shady, shady man ( international arm’s dealer, most recently demoted to local resistance leader and occasional general goods store co-owner )

APPEARANCE

eye colour: green hair colour: brown height: 181cm ( 5′11 ), and 6ft on tinder jkjk man’s confident enough to not grasp for that extra inch, unlike someone ( john ) scars: heavily burnt left hand ( from trying to fish out his ex girlfriend’s boiling corpse r.i.p. to that steaming puss— ), gash on his right temple, nicely healed gun wound on left shoulder, not so nicely healed amputated right hand ( man’s not having the best time in my canon, is he ), various incorrectly healed cuts and bruises

FAVOURITE

colour: green and rustics song: wild world by yusuf/cat stevens food: unlike the faker above, michael actually likes to cook and eat healthy meals, so anything from salads to veggies to oatmeal to soups will do ( and meat; man’s been a vegetarian for a grand total of 4 days in his entire life ( or 14, if you count the time he got abducted to john’s bunker womp )) drink: sugary drinkswhiskey, fresh juices, “water can be so, so sexy, annie—”

HAVE THEY

passed university: no, though michael really busted his ass to self-educate on subjects that will be beneficial to his line of work had sex: we stopped keeping tabs and numbers nearly ten years ago had sex in public: we stopped blinking at these types of shenanigans nearly ten years ago too gotten pregnant/ someone else pregnant: yes? no? maybe? ( mike’s too afraid to even think about it, but hopes he hasn’t fathered any babies any time soon ) kissed a boy: yes ( affectionate ) kissed a girl: yes ( affectionate² ) gotten tattoos: yes: the sword of damocles on his left inner forearm, intertwined snakes running across his right ribs, a tiny smiley face on his ass lord save him gotten piercings: yes, and everyone hated his attempt to revive the 90s with his lil earring like c’mon you already have a reputation of being a sleaze— been in love: yes, but surprisingly not as many times as one may think ( truthfully, three times: mary may, lana, joanne mary may again ) stayed up for more than 24 hours: sometimes it just cannot be helped

ARE THEY

a virgin: maybe in a past life as an amoeba a cuddler: yes ( try to escape his hold during a summer night i’ll give you 5 bucks if you can break the deadlock ) a kisser: he just exists to smooch at this point scared easily: truthfully, he’s quite desensitized as is, so it’s really hard to truly rock him jealous easily: no; though he might get a bit petty and bitter if someone mentions merle and mary may becuase, like, c’mon, mary—merle briggs? trustworthy: one of his better traits, but past events have shown that boy tends to lose some of his morals for love dominant: yes submissive: yes part 2 man will accommodate and switch it up in love: often single: loosely, often

RANDOM QUESTIONS (tw for self harm/suicide mention)

have they harmed themselves: michael has bad mental health trips stemming from having a lot of insecurities as a child; these may evolve into bad habits and pure recklessness on his part to prove his worth thought of suicide: these thoughts don’t come often, but when they do, it’s harder for him than most to shake them off and recover attempted suicide: once, during the boiling pit incident wanted to kill someone: yes, but it comes more from need than want usually have/had a job: yes, though no retail until he was 30 and stuck providing hope county with slugs and bullets have any fears: loneliness, rejection, abandonment, repercussions and consequences, not being good enough, powerlessness, loss, the angel pit, the process of dying

FAMILY

sibling(s): none, but: jackson hughes ( uncle ) parent(s): jessica hughes née scott ( mother ), david hughes ( father ) girl i have his whole family tree drawn up like you wouldn’t believe children: andrew hughes ( son in new dawn au and maybe canon ) significant other: mary may fairgrave ( childhood sweetheart/awkward ex/once in a rare cosmic event fuck buddy/volatile lovers ) pets: peaches loves him she doesn’t; she just wants to chew on his hair

#tag game #deputy joanne burton #michael s. hughes #oc: get to know jo #oc: build a bicycle #my stuff #far cry 5 oc

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playinonaloop · 3 years

Text

Chapter 4: Save us

Warning throughout the series: (mentions of) smut, violence, drugs, alcohol, guns, maffia stuff, ya know!

Story masterlist

A warm wind blew onto Daniels ‘s face as he ran out into the garden. He blew out air through his nose while he crouched down. To torture you was one thing, but to kill you? Daniel knew that only would bring death and destruction to his family. His body became hot as the world started to spin around him. Daniel’s heart started to race, blood pounding in his ears. He sat down and tried to grab the small stones of the gravel path beneath him.

Thoughts were spinning through his head; his mother had really gone mad. She was really planning to kill you, for something as simple as money. Daniel knew that there was more to it than just money. He knew his family was tied up into something bigger than he could ever imagine. Why did you get left behind? Was this a way to get underneath the skin of his parents? Why didn’t they leave Joey? Were you something your family thought of as less, just as his family did?

Everybody in the Ricciardo family knew that his sister, Michelle, was going to be the next one to lead the family. Her being older, and perhaps more twisted, aided to that. She fitted right into the way his family portrayed themselves. Daniel didn’t use drugs like they did, he didn’t drink alcohol. He didn’t enjoy torturing like they did. In every aspect he was different than them. Joe, his dad, was in many ways like him but, because he married Grace, he changed to her liking. And with that, Joe didn’t hold her back in the things she did.

Daniels ‘s breath slowed down again as he got a grip of the stones beneath him. He threw them away from him as he took deep breaths to calm down again. After a short moment, he stood up and turned around to take a look at the house. His brown eyes scanned the house, taking it in. The big windows, balconies with lounge sets on them. A curtain that blew out of a window. Daniel walked back a bit to see the enormous roof with some small towers on top of it. He knew that it wasn’t normal to live in such a mansion. With that thought on his mind, he walked back inside.

Soft whimpers left your mouth as the pain became unbearable. The sun was now high up in the sky which meant that Daniels ‘s visit had been a few hours ago. You hadn’t had food or something to drink in a while now, in combination with being tortured it made you feel awful. The smell of dried blood was starting to make your head spin. As you looked down you saw that your jeans were drenched in blood. This made you close your eyes shortly; you knew you had lost a lot of blood.

When you opened your eyes, you knew you had slipped out of consciousness for a bit. The sun was starting to set. It marked the end of day four, making it almost five days since you saw your family. God, you hated this situation. A frustrated groan left your mouth as you thought about the last moments before you went on this stupid mission. Eating breakfast with your parents and Joey, giving your dog Katy a last cuddle before leaving. Tears started to well up in your eyes. You knew that you were going to die here if your family didn’t show up tomorrow. As a family you had mutually decided that, if there wasn’t an option to save one of them within the first five days of being kidnapped or left behind, you didn’t get saved. It took too much risk to come and save someone who might actually be dead due to starvation, torture or even murder. Yes, it was a very hard choice to accept. But it had to be done, to save the family.

The door behind you opened. It made you sit up, hoping someone came to bring you something to eat and drink. You realized that it wasn't a food delivery by the way the person moved through the room. Another set of footsteps joined.

"We're giving you another chance to 'fess up"

Michelle her voice cut through the air, a shiver running up your spine as Grace walked towards the windows. You quickly saw the gun she was carrying. It made you realize this could end in two different ways. You could either tell them or die. A smile played your mouth as another idea popped up in your mind.

"Okay"

"Okay?"

It made Michelle walk towards you, Grace turned around with a frown on her face.

"Yeah, I'm dying either way"

Grace scoffed and smiled. She let go of the gun.

"Clever girl..."

You told them this big story, how your parents decided they would legalize weed as they grew it on the farm back north of Queensland. To what degree they went to flood the now legal market. How they profited of it, making them become wealthier than they had ever been. You told them in detail where the farm was, Michelle left the room to send an investigator up there. Grace just stared at you. In dismay.

“I can’t believe you would betray your family like that.”

“Well, they left me here to die. Didn’t they?”

Hatred fueled your eyes, and they believed your story.

“I’ll make sure they get your regards”

Grace left. You took a deep breath in, shaking your fear out of you. The farm you talked about was an empty shell. Your family didn’t use it, as it used to be an old family home. It was completely empty. A giggle left your mouth, it was all a lie. The Ricciardo’s weren’t going to win in any way. You were going to die anyway, now or in 80 years.

You looked out of the window, staring into the abyss as a few hours passed by. It turned completely dark outside. The door behind you opened but you were too tired to respond.

It was Daniel that sat in front of you. A knife in his hands. You knew it was time. A tear slipped out of your eye, making you nudge your shoulder to your cheek. He didn't look at you.

"So ironic that you are the one to..." You scoffed softly.

Daniel looked up at you. Your eyes met and it was electrifying. Now that he was sitting here in front of you, you had time to take him in. Thinking that he would be the last thing you would see because you weren't sure if there was anything like an afterlife, your eyes slid over his head. You could see how messy his curls were, almost identical to how they were this morning. A number of curls had slumped to the side, as if they were too heavy to hold. You would always remember his sun-tanned head, that's how he used to look. The wrinkles around his eyes that no doubt came from laughing all the time. The beard that made him look older than he was. You looked further down. A muscular body, dressed in a simple black t-shirt and shorts. Daniel didn't wear socks, also something he never did. You now saw the rose on his hand, you recognized it from somewhere.

"How long do you have that rose?"

"I don't know, since 2018 I think, why?"

"No, it's nothing, thought I recognized it"

"Oh"

The silence came back, and it became unbearable.

"If you aren't going to kill me, just do it"

He stood up, playing with the knife. Daniel looked back and forth between you and the door. It made you want to cry, because he made your ending so much longer than it needed to be. That also made you angry. You could feel death lingering over you, his hands were playing with the knife as if it was a lego block, something as innocent as that.

“Can’t you see how fucked up this is?”

“Well how am I supposed to go on then?!” You looked up at him, despair in your eyes. This was the moment that would break or make your or his family.

Drawing blood from his hands as he twists the knife in his hands and looked away at the closed door.

You were starting to get annoyed with him. He was prolonging your life for what?

"Daniel, look at me damn it!"

He finally looked at you. Really looked at you. His eyes weren't blank anymore. Instead, you saw something you didn't recognize.

"I remember swimming with you and your brother, you know. Almost every summer behind the cliffs where we used to ride to from your house."

You raised an eyebrow as he started talking about something from the past. He continued.

"I remember playing hide and seek while our parents had meetings together. I recall sitting with you on the swing."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"A few years ago, I had the most wonderful night. It was a night out with friends. After a few drinks I decided to get on the dance floor. The club played the greatest hits but also a few from the past. While dancing, I saw the prettiest girl. High heels, a sleeveless dress, just up to my liking. Long legs, long hair and smelled like freshly cut watermelon with a hint of smoke but it didn't overwhelm me. "

You knew where this was going. Daniel was now face to face with you, close. Now you recognized the smell, sweet like a candy shop but also the saltiness from the sea.

"We danced for quite a bit, my hands roaming her body freely. Kissing her neck. She grabbed my hand, where I had a rose. A rose just like this one."

He shows you his hand. Not too close to your face to make sure he didn't cut you with the knife he held.

"It was a fake tattoo at the time, you know, some a temporary tattoo that you stick on with a wet cloth."

Daniel smiled as he bent down.

"My friend whispered to me that I was dancing with the devil."

A chuckle left his mouth. He sat on the floor in front of you.

"I was dancing with you, he had seen your face and made me leave. Again I was disturbed in being who I wanted to be. I wanted to be carefree, to live without the responsibility of being a member of the fucking maffia!"

His hand drove the knife into the wooden floor. It cracked. You tried to shuffle your chair backwards, afraid he would drive the knife in your leg next. Daniel looked up at you.

"My parents do not find me important enough to take me with them in most of the family meetings. They take Michelle. But in the last few days I've realized something. It's okay that they don't. Because I do not want to be like them."

Daniel pulled the knife out of the floor.

"I. Want. Out!"

He spoke through gritted teeth, moving the knife towards your leg.

"So, this is the plan. I will act like I killed you but obviously will not kill you. Then I will wrap the blanket, that's laying by the door, around you and I will carry you to the car. I'll go back inside to tell my parents that I am going to dispose of your body. I'll show them a picture of you in the blanket. In my car I have two fake passports, because we need to talk."

Daniel cut all the ropes around your feet, body and wrists. You were speechless to say the least. He walked to get the blanket and grabbed another bottle of something.

"Can you lay on top of it, I've got some fake blood I will put on your chest and onto the knife and then some on the blanket so it will be realistic."

You just looked at him, rubbing your wrists. The wounds on your stomach hurt.

"Why are you saving me?"

"Because, I reckon, you want out too. Now lay down, we don't have much time"

Daniel put a hand on your shoulder and softly pushed you towards the blanket. You sat and laid down carefully. He put some fake blood on your chest and on the knife. A little pool of blood was quickly created, but it was mixed with your own. Some of the cuts on your stomach opened, making you groan.

"Okay, okay, eyes closed; just a second."

He took the photo and put it in his back pocket.

"So just lay there for a minute. I've got some medical stuff to help you with the.. duh.."

Daniel looked visibly distressed.

"You don't have to talk about it"

Your voice was soft, making him look at you instead of the cuts. He grabbed Betadine and some bandages.

"It might hurt"

"Just do it, the proces of making them hurt even worse"

He looked hurt at the way you snapped at him.

"Sorry"

"No, it's okay"

Daniel gave you his hand before he put the Betadine on. You squeezed it hard, making you clench your jaws as he cleaned it a bit. He then bandaged it.

"I'm now going to wrap you up and carry you to the car"

Before you knew you were in the trunk of the car. It was dark, cold and to be quite frank; scary. You laid there for a bit, refueling yourself with small bites of the sandwich Daniel made and drinking a bit of water. The car started to drive away, making you grip the flooring of the trunk to hold on. You rest your head against the bag that laid in the trunk too. After a while, you slipped into a nap.

"Hey, you still with me?"

You opened your eyes and met Daniel who was very close to your face. It made you shuffle backwards. "Sorry, I'm just glad you're awake. Shall I help you get out?" "Yes, uh, please." Daniel grabbed your hands and helped you up. He briefly shielded your head as you came up and nearly hit the edge of the trunk. "I brought you some clothes to put on, because what you're wearing now can't be called clothes anymore." He handed you a bag and then walked away to the lookout point where we were parked. You looked around briefly before opening the bag. The bag was full of clothes, short-sleeved shirts, long-sleeved shirts, sweaters, jeans, sweatpants. You name it or it was in there. The cold had now crept into your bones, so you opted for layers. A short-sleeved shirt with a sweater over it. Jeans with a sweater over it. Daniel had even thought of clean underwear.

"You can turn around now, I'm dressed."

Daniel turned back to you and took you in.

His face showed signs of complete horror. "I'm so sorry." A tear rolled down his cheek. He collapsed, causing you to walk right up to him. He cried. Tears also slowly streamed down your cheeks. He put his arms around you. You cried together. After a while the tears were gone.

"What now?" "I need to let my parents know that I'm fine and that I'm free." "And after that?" "After that we'll see what we're going to do"

He smiled at you, it made you smile back. You were free, you were safe. Daniel saved you and himself in the proces.

"Can I suggest one thing we can do?"

You looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"What?"

"Can I kiss you?"

His voice was soft and nervous. Daniel kept smiling a little, with a little blush on his cheeks.

"Yeah"

"Yeah?"

You nodded.

"Okay"

Daniel stepped closer to you, the space between you now almost non existent. His hot breath fanned over your face. He looked down at you, scanning your eyes again. You took in that rich smell of cologne that he wore. It was as if the night at the club continued. But then in silent. His eyes looked into yours. They seemed lighter in color in the moonlight. The dark ring around his iris was a great contrast to the amber color inside. His pupils were large because of the lack of light in the area. Daniel surprised you by letting his lips gently touch yours. His hand found its place on your cheek, he gently rubbed it with his thumb. He tasted fresh, almost like he just brushed his teeth. It made you realized he had a mint before. Daniel had planned everything which made you giggle against his lips.

#Daniel Ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo #imagine #fanfic #f1 #mob!au #angst

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stylesnews · 4 years

Link

A year ago, the guitar was in dire straits. With songs like Travis Scott’s “Sicko Mode,” Ariana Grande’s “7 Rings,” Lizzo’s “Truth Hurts” and Panic! At the Disco’s “High Hopes” among the most consumed of 2019, programmed beats and horns were the sonic flavors of popular music. Sure, there were outliers — the Jonas Brothers’ “Sucker,” Maroon 5’s “Memories” and Post Malone’s “Circles” among them — but as the rock and alternative genres embraced artists like Billie Eilish, whose innovative music made the traditional band approach feel outdated, the days of chords and solos seemed numbered if not headed towards irrelevance.

Then came the coronavirus pandemic and things changed. Forced to perform from home or in rooms not intended for live music during lockdown, many artists went back to basics and out came the trusty six-string. For iHeartRadio’s “Living Room Concert for America” in March, Foo Fighters’ Dave Grohl played an acoustic Guild on “My Hero”; Billie Joe Armstrong from Green Day strummed to his band’s “Boulevard of Broken Dreams”; and even Eilish, with her collaborator brother Finneas, sang her hit “Bad Guy” accompanied by only a Fender acoustic. Other benefit livestreams like Global Citizen’s “One World Together At Home” event saw the Rolling Stones, Keith Urban and Shawn Mendes strip down their hit songs for unplugged versions. And in April, Miley Cyrus delivered an emotional cover of Pink Floyd’s “Wish You Were Here” on “Saturday Night Live” with Andrew Watt, himself a COVID survivor, on guitar.

At the same time, there was an electric guitar solo being heard on one of the most-played songs in the United States. Harry Styles’ “Adore You,” which has logged 1.1 million radio spins in 2020, according to Mediabase, and has been streamed more than 400 million times, per Alpha Data, features the playing of Kid Harpoon (real name: Tom Hull), Styles’ friend and producer, who handled the guitar parts for much of the Brit’s excellent “Fine Line” album, released in Dec. 2019. As it turns out, the melody of the solo, which also serves as the bridge to “Adore You,” was first hummed by Styles for Hull to emulate. “I did it with my mouth into a microphone,” Styles told Variety in October. “And then Tom sent me this video trying to get it to sound the same. He spent a couple of hours getting it.”

Why include a guitar solo when most pop songs would never dare? “I feel it’s kind of like ‘La La Land’ saving jazz — only for rock ‘n’ roll,” Styles cracked when posed with the question. But more seriously speaking, Variety‘s Hitmaker of the Year added: “I’m not a spearheader of the movement, like, ‘Let’s bring back guitars.’ There’s plenty of times when [a song] doesn’t sound better with a guitar, and you don’t use it. But a lot of the references I grew up with have guitars; and it’s the first instrument I played, so it makes sense that I would like the sound of them more. I don’t think the guitar is dying. Guitars are great and always have been.”

In fact, guitar sales in 2020 have been robust. Music retailer Sweetwater reports more than 50% year-over-year growth in guitar purchases, with even larger increases during the peak COVID months of April, May and June “when customers most likely hunkered down to practice and create music after watching all of the streaming video they could handle,” according to a rep for the Indiana-based company.

The spike extended to other string instruments as well, which saw growth of more than 70% year-over-year in the price range of $299 or lower. The metric indicates that “new players are joining the fold,” says Sweetwater, which has been in business for over four decades and operates online. (Competitor Guitar Center, with more than 250 physical locations in the U.S., did not fare as well, filing for Chapter 11 bankruptcy protection last month.)

Even in the virtual world, learning to play an instrument has taken off during lockdown. The platform Yousician, which provides interactive learning for guitar, bass, ukulele, piano and voice, currently reigns as the No. 1 app for music instruction while its sister product, GuitarTuna, is tops for guitar tuning.

Ask current writers and producers working in pop and hip-hop about their process and you soon learn that an acoustic guitar is often the beginning or the essence of a hit song. Among Variety‘s 2020 Hitmakers, the trio of Taz Taylor, Charlie Handsome and KC Supreme credited a guitar loop as the foundation for Trevor Daniel’s “Falling.” For Maren Morris’ “The Bones,” producer Greg Kurstin noted: “The first thing I noticed was Jimmy Robbins’ guitar hook; I wanted to keep the song rooted in that.”

“So many hit songs from 2020 started with a acoustic or electric guitar, whether it be a melody line or simple progression,” says songwriter and producer Jenna Andrews, whose recent credits include BTS’ “Dynamite” and Benee’s “Supalonely.”

And often, those guitar-based foundations remained through the finished product — for instance, 24KGoldn’s “Mood,” with its impossibly catchy sun-kissed guitar riff, and Powfu’s “death bed (coffee for your head).”

“I know it sounds kinda old school, but I love it when a well-recorded acoustic pops off on the radio,” says Sam Hollander, whose hits include the aforementioned “High Hopes” and Fitz and the Tantrums’ “HandClap.” “The bulk of my songs tend to be born on guitar. Without that foundation, the lyrics and melodies never really emote the heartbeat and emotion that I’m trying to dial in. There’s just a general warmth to it that’s hard to replicate. It’s like the warmest chocolate chip cookie.”

“I think the prevalence of guitar in 2020 has a lot to do with hip-hop producers using more emo and punk-rock influences,” offers Angie Pagano, whose AMP management company represents Tommy Brown (Ariana Grande, Blackpink) and Mr. Franks, among others. “Juice Wrld really helped bring this into the mainstream over the last few years. We’re seeing a great blend of emo and trap these days.”

Indeed, the year’s most-consumed hits leaned hip-hop — Roddy Ricch’s “The Box” landed at No. 1 on the Hitmakers list with Future and Drake, Jack Harlow and Megan Thee Stallion in the Top 10 — but even DaBaby’s “Rockstar,” the No. 3 song of the year, referenced a guitar in its chorus, albeit alongside mention of a Glock pistol. That visual may go against what Hollander calls “the Kumbaya vibe of the guitar,” but the song still features an acoustic strum at its core.

In the case of Styles’ 2020 successes, which also include the ubiquitous “Watermelon Sugar,” his producer further explained that, while aware of what was reacting on the charts at the time they were recording, Styles wasn’t about to chase the trends. Said Tom Hull: “We [thought], we can’t play the commercial game in terms of what’s happening right now. What we can do is make music that really resonates with us. There’s no blueprint. You just have faith. We love records from the ’70s and ’80s; weird prog rock music that might be a seven-minute instrumental; then you’re listening to Shania Twain, like, ‘This is awesome, too.’ The goal was to make something we will always love, and if it completely flops commercially, at least we know we love it. We have that.”

#harry styles #jan21 #variety21

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creepypocky · 3 years

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Hello dear! May I have a romantic and Nsfw creepypasta match-up please? Feel free to ignore this if they are closed but if you do choose to do this then thank you so much! I hope you have a great day/night!

Zodiac sign: Leo sun, Aries moon, Leo rising

Personality Type: ENTP

Pronouns: She/her

Sexuality: Straight (For now might be bi but i'm going with straight)

For my personality.....this is where things get interesting. At first people find me very intimidating due to my resting bitch face and cold exterior but I promise i'm not like that ALL the time. When you get to know me, i'm a big extrovert, goofy and about everything that comes out of my mouth is sarcasm or some dry humored joke. I'm also that one friend in a group where they literally will do the stupidest shit ever like for an example one time it was super dark outside and my other friend was there, while I was trying to climb a tree and I failed and fell out of the tree, and landed on my back. I got straight up after that somehow it didn't hurt.....like at all? But yeah i'm super reckless and sometimes people have to save me from myself if you get what I mean. I also have a very strong "I don't give a fuck" attitude and I will not hesitate to stick up for myself or my friends....like i'm the type of person where if someone glares at me, i'll glare right back. I can have bad anxiety and I can be very self destructive. This is where my feisty, stubborn, hardheaded side comes in. If I want something then i'll fight for it even if it hurts me and i'll get into a bad cycle of putting myself down and trying to do better even if I did great the first time but I always push myself too far and other people have to stop me because I usually can't see it when its happening. I also cover my emotions up and I have a lot of trouble talking about whats bothering me or what problems i'm having emotionally so I put up a wall and I act tough, or happy and sometimes i'll be the exact opposite but I try to hide it.

Weird things about me: I've grown up in the south all my life so sometimes when I talk a few words they'll come out sounding WAYYY more country and southern then I wanted, I don't have an accent but sometimes my words just come out that way. I also love the smell of cigarette smoke....let me explain. When I was a kid my parents smoked a lot and I was used to smelling it and now it reminds me of home and is sort of comforting.

So for the nsfw part.....I'm very shy and i'd like it if someone guided me. But i'm 100% a Bottom and I love praise and maybe a tiny bit of degradation. I also have a big ownership kink like if someone tells me that i'm their's....then I might die. Also if they told me that they "Needed" me I would also die on the spot...in a good way. I'm also a sucker for marking like lovebites and hickies? Yes please. But please tease me and edge me because I prefer not having control so someone else being in control is just...lovely. Also pet names! Like Sunshine, Babygirl, Doll....AHHhh I might melt. Things I don't like are impact play or the whole "Daddy kink" It kinda just makes me cringe

I also don't think I really have a type but.....I do tend to love people who are brooding, and intimidating on the outside but a big teddy bear on the inside because that's how I am sometimes. I hate people who are fake or just passive aggressive because they are super annoying to deal with and honestly if you have something to say then just say it to my face rather than behind my back.

Hello :)

|| I enjoyed reading through this. I'll definitely work on it now. ||

I match you with ~ Jeff The Killer!

First off, he really likes your size and style, he has a think for small girls that can still be tough and that’s something he loves showing off when you get together lmfao, he’s like, “Yeah, my girls strong. Fuck you gonna do about it?”

Now, Jeff is a really unstable, violent guy. A lot of people (even me) don’t even see him ever being interested in being in a relationship, so when the creeps saw Jeff with his arm around you, they were immediately baffled by it.

The truth is, though, this man totally wants to have someone by his side, someone that accepts him even though he’s a killer. Someone that’s open to his feelings and is willing to look past all of the horrible shit he’s done.

You’re like that to him, it took him a very long time to get used to how he felt for you at first. At first he thought his brain was just being stupid, but Jeff isn’t dumb. He knows what these feelings feel like, and he recognized them almost immediately after that.

Jeff is really insane, and he constantly leans on you for support and depends on you to keep him leveled at times. It can get pressuring, but despite it all he always makes sure to not blame you if he ends up doing something dumb because he knows it’s not your fault.

He finds your clothing style pretty hot, he really loves badass kind of outfits with leather and band names, because as I said, he loves to show off that his girl is “cool” or something.

He thinks your resting bitch-face and cold exterior is really badass too, being around you always gives him so much confidence and its a great change from the usual fake confidence he has around everyone that he keeps up as a defense mechanism when in reality he was always pretty insecure.

I honestly think Jeff is an extrovert too, like he loves being around people and interacting with them (When they’re not normal people and don’t think he’s hideous, that is). I canon this mostly because when hes alone, then he’s also alone with his thoughts and his thoughts always end up wandering to his insecurities and what he hates about himself, but you often catch him during these times and you reassure him that everything will be okay and that you still love him.

He totally relates to being the friend that says stupidest shit, you two will often just go up to one of the creeps and just start spouting random shit. He honestly fucking loves being goofy with you, and you two are always creating awesome memories together when you prank the other creeps and sometimes each other and he honestly wouldn’t have it any other way.

When you do stupid shit that gets you in trouble or puts you in danger, he’s always quick to get to you and make sure you’re okay, he would probably panic a lot though. Like, “What the fuck, dumbass?” “How the HELL did you do that???“ as he’s frantically trying to solve the situation. Will most definitely sit there and laugh at you for a good 5-10 minutes once the whole thing is dealt with though.

You being able to stick up for your friends is one of the great qualities about you that he absolutely adores, especially since before he became a killer he would always get bullied and nobody would ever stick up for him, so one day when you defend him against a bunch of assholes it just warms his heart up and makes him feel so loved, but he most likely wont admit that.

He’d let it slip eventually though.

When you’re feeling self-destructive, he is 100% there for you. Although he’s not really the best at giving advice, he’ll still sit there with you and let you talk your heart out and will listen to every single word because he wants to show that same contribution towards you that you’ve shown him. He’ll constantly reassure you that not everything is your fault and that you’re strong, and he’ll make little promises to you.

If it was a person in particular making you feel that way though, he’d definitely make sure to pay a visit to the motherfucker.

He admires your determination to fight for the things you want, but to an extent. He hates it when you overwork yourself or push beyond your limits to the point where it destroys you, and he wants you to know that you’re not alone and you can ask for help, you don’t have to destroy yourself. He’s more than willing to stay right there, by your side.

He understands hiding your true emotions, because well, he’s had to do it a lot around the other creeps and around his family when they were still alive. So he won’t ever push you to talk about somehting if you don’t want to, but he doesn’t want you to pretend to be okay either. He’s more than willing to just lay with you and do whatever you want if it would make you feel better.

He honestly likes how you have a southern accent at times, when he’s feeling upset or like his sanity is draining, your accent really soothes him so sometimes he’ll ask you to lay it on thick because he could honestly listen to you talk to him and listen to your accent all day if he wanted to.

It’s good that you like cigarette smoke because I canon this man smokes very often.

When it storms at night, he’ll always hold you close to him with a blanket and just listen to the storm sounds with you because it soothes him too. This man is really pent up from feeling driven to constantly murder and just sitting with you listening to the rain and thunder is one of the main things that level him.

He’s really not the best.... at cooking.... but, this means you can cook often for him since he won’t for himself. B)

He will just put you in a car and drive for hours to no destination and blast that 80s and 90s music just to see that smile on your face.

This man will 100000000000% destroy any spider within a 10 mile radius of you.

He understands not liking people who are fake because there were a lot of people who talked shit about him when he went to school, and when he has a problem with someone he will always say it to their face and make them understand that they’re a piece of shit to him.

NSFW:

You like being dominated and guided? Good, because this man is at least 95% a top. He thinks it’s adorable that you’re shy and will most definitely be willing to guide you through the whole thing and tell you exactly what to do for him.

Jeff is really possessive tbh, so when he’s fucking you he will constantly say shit like,

“Fucking mine”

“You’re nobody elses“

“You belong to me, only”

This man will definitely bite you everywhere, he lives to just throw you down onto the bed and start biting everywhere on your body and making sure to leave marks just so you know exactly who owns you.

Don’t worry honey, he will spend hours just filling you with his cock and telling you that you cant cum unless you beg more, or he’ll just pull out right when you’re about to cum on him and just slap your folds with his fingers as a way to make fun of you.

He’ll call you things like, “baby” “dollface” “darling” when he’s feeling passionate but oh boy if he’s feeling angry or he’s punishing you? Be prepared to be degraded all night.

There we go <3

Sorry if this is too long lmfao, I just think that Jeff is a really misunderstood piece of shit. I hope you’re having a great day and taking care of yourself, and I hope you enjoyed this matchup. :)

#creepypasta smut #creepypasta #matchup #creepypasta matchups #jeff the killer #anon ask #smut

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lucifermorningstark666 · 3 years

Text

Hello there 1-😈( Lucifer x reader)

Hi darlings, This is a Lucifer fanfic written by me. You can also check it out on Wattpad( Megalomaniac_123, Book name- Y/N's Handsome Devil). This chapter has 3 parts. Please note the title.Do let me know what you think about this piece of mine..I'll gladly take requests, if you have any..❤.

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

It was a beautiful windy evening, when you were walking back to your house after a hectic day at work. You were wearing a stunning floral top along with blue jeans. Your elegant ( hair color) hair was not tied and it flowed freely along with the breezy cold wind. Your mind pondered restlessly over the pending office work that had to be completed within two days.You were also distressed, as your application for your personal leave had been denied by your tyrranic boss.You just wanted to head back home and grab a drink.

You noticed that dark-bellied clouds had started floating over the sky indicating a heavy downpour.The wind began to howl. There was heavy thunder and lightning. Unfortunately, you didn't have an umbrella to protect yourself and you still had to walk two more miles in order reach your home.

Suddenly, you noticed a new ginormous nightclub named ' LUX' near the spot you were standing. You made up your mind and decided to seek refuge in the building, untill the heavy downpour subsides.

You got inside the humongous nightclub.

It was completely packed with people dancing, drinking, screaming etc. The hard-core party music was too loud for your ears and you just wanted to go to your house and listen to 80's melodies.

"Darling, are you alright? You are completely drenched..." said a man in a soft British accent.

You turned and looked back.

Standing there ,was a tall handsome British man wearing a lovely olive-green three-piece suit, his red pocket square perfectly arranged, his hair combed stylishly and his chocolate-brown eyes along with his infectious smile was definitely a wonderful sight for your fatigue-filled eyes.

He offered you couple of tissues, looking at your soaked clothes.

" Thank you...um.." you said with a small smile and wiped your clothes and hair.

" Allow me to introduce myself, dear. Lucifer...Morningstar." he said with a beautiful smile.

"What about your name, darling?" he asked.

"Y/N" you replied.

"Y/N, you are as lovely as your name, dear." he said with a soft voice.

"Thank you, Lucifer" you responded with a smile.

"Y/N, would you like to grab a drink with me? Only, if you are ok with it, darling." he asked in a polite tone.

You decided to accept his offer as one, you definitely wanted a drink to calm you nerves and two, you wanted to know more about the handsome Lucifer.

" Yeah sure Lucifer...but um...can we sit somewhere quieter...the music here is too loud for my ears... um.....are you ok with it?" you asked hesitantly.

" Sure darling, why not. We can go to my pent-house upstairs and grab a drink. Is that fine, dear?" he asked.

" Yeah ok...Lucifer" you said.

" Lovely" he said with a small smile.

You and Lucifer got inside the elevator. Within a few seconds, the elevator door bell rang and the doors opened revealing Lucifer's dazzling penthouse.

" Wow...Nice place you got here, Lucifer" you said with a sparkle in your eyes.

"Thank you, darling." he said with a glimmering smile.

"Oh forgot! Darling, what's your poison?" he asked.

"( Drink name)" you replied.

" Oh! My choice of poison is same as your's , darling. What a coincidence!" he said in an excited tone.

You giggled.

Lucifer directed his hand towards his Italian couch.After you both seated your selves comfortably, Lucifer started the conversation.

"So Y/N, do you work somewhere? Your beautiful eyes look drained out due to ...uhm...I don't know..excess work,perhaps?" he raised a question.

"Correct guess, Lucifer" you said.

Your explained how hectic your work was and also expressed how frustrated you were as your application for your personal leave had been denied by your arrogant boss.

"Oh, dearie me! That sounds so awful, darling. I really can't understand why that bastard wouldn't grant you a personal leave and torture a lovely efficient woman like you ." Lucifer sighed.

"It's alright, Lucifer. I am planning to finish my pending work and I am quitting this job, for good.I have to start looking for job opportunities and I don't know whether any companies would hire me." you said in a sad tone.

" Darling, I think, I might be able to help you. My nightclub needs an account manager and your work profile fits this job. I would really love to hand over this job to a dynamic young lady like you.You can think about it and let me know if you are happy about it." Lucifer smiled.

You really couldn't decline Lucifer's job offer as one, it was a golden opportunity for you to build-up your accounting career and two, it was certainly better than your current job and three, you were unsure whether any company would hire you and four, you really enjoyed Lucifer's company and looked forward to meet him again.

" Lucifer, I have made up my mind. I am willing to take over this job wholeheartedly." you smiled confidently.

" Lovely. You can join here day after tomorrow, darling." Lucifer said.

"Thanks a lot Lucifer. This job really means a lot to me" you said with a smile and involuntarily, you placed a small kiss on Lucifer's tender cheek.

"Oh...um...I am...sorry..Lucifer..I shouldn't have ....um..done that" you said in an embarrassed tone.

Lucifer blushed and said " No problem, darling. I should actually be the one thanking you for accepting my offer."

You didn't realise how time moved quickly. The heavy downpour had subsided. The night sky was clear and filled with a multitude of twinkling stars.

" Lucifer, I think it's time for me to head back home. The rain has subsided. Thanks again for handing me this job and I really enjoyed your company." you said and blushed.

" Same here Y/N. Looking forward to meet you day after tomorrow, dear" he blushed and ran his fingers through his hair.

" Darling, do you want me to give you a drive back to your home " Lucifer asked.

" No, thank you Lucifer .I'll walk back" you said.

" Goodbye and goodnight, Lucifer." you smiled.

" Goodbye and goodnight Y/N. Take care darling." Lucifer smiled.

You went back to your home and took a bath to rejuvenate yourself. You were feeling very tired as well as happy. You laid down on your bed and thought about how nature had changed your current drastic work situation by providing a window to meet Lucifer. You were also happy that you connected with someone, after many years, with whom you could share your feelings and problems.

On the other hand, Lucifer laid on his bed and thought about the wonderful meeting between you and Lucifer.

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

I love you all..❤❤

#lucifer morningstar imagine #lucifer x reader #lucifer x y/n #lucifer one shot #lord of hell #fluffy #romance #devil x reader #tom ellis #lucifer morningstar #love #mine

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flymyhp · 4 years

Text

Dirty dancing with Draco Malfoy

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader

A/N: it's been a minute! That's because I've been working on this wonderful 80's themed collab with @quadrupledeckertaco @probably-peeves and @melody-studyblr. Thank you to these lovely people for letting me join in. Hope you enjoy!! And absolutely check out their work because they're all very talented. Much love!

Green. Everything seemed that way except for the sky, a bright blue with a glowing sun beaming down through the windows of our car. My father was driving, talking to my mother who was sitting petitely in the passenger seat, mumbling small compliments to my sister Hermione who was beside me in the backseat singing.

“I am improving, aren’t I? You’re right mom, this summer is going to be the best I’ve had.”

That was the summer of 1963—when everybody called me Baby, and it didn’t occur to me to mind. That was before President Kennedy was shot, before the Beatles came, when I couldn’t wait to join the Peace Corps, and I thought I’d never find a guy as great as my dad. That was the summer we went to Kellerman’s.

Kellerman’s was a resort in Virginia, with a big lake and entertainment every night. My father was friends with the man who owned it, and this summer I would have the gross pleasure of meeting his son Blaise, who I’d heard so much about on the way.

“We’ll get settled and unpacked first, this way to our cabin. Then to lunch!” My father said with his and mothers suitcase in hand and sunglasses propped up on top of his head.

Hermione skipped behind him and our mother with her bag over her shoulder and long frizzy brown hair bouncing half bunched on top of her head. I watched as she spun around, admiring the view of the resort.

It was pretty, very pretty and natural. Trees overlapped our cabin that was just coming into view up the stairs on the side of a hill and there was a perfect view of the lake from our porch.

“I’m taking this bed, baby. I want the window view.” Hermione chirped as the four of us entered the cabin.

“Fine with me.” I sat my bag down on the bed with a sigh. I was excited to be here, not as excited at the idea that I might see Blaise at lunch. Or any time throughout the vacation for that matter. “Hey Mione, have you met Blaise Zabini?”

She furrowed her brows in thought. “Is he the dancer? I’ve heard he’s really good, he performs the final dance with Pansy Parkinson. I’d love to be in her shoes, I bet I could do better than she does.” She droned on and on about the wrong person.

“The owners son, I mean. I don’t know any of the dancers.” I interrupted her, annoyed.

Hermione’s always been talkative and perky. You’d think she was rude if you didn’t know her, but she just can’t help it.

“Oh! I’ve met him on one of daddy’s golfing trips.” I gagged at the word ‘daddy’. “He’s very nice and a proper gentleman, not my type but he’s heard a lot about you.” She giggled and faced the window, bouncing on her toes impatiently.

I wondered what she meant by that. I’d heard a lot about him too, he’s not my type either from the sound of it. A spoiled rich kid who takes what he wants. I also wondered about the dancers Hermione was talking about.

Everyone was unpacked and settled in nicely, so we headed to lunch in the main hall. We sat down at a four person table and waited on a server. Small talk was on its way, I turned my head to look at the hall in order to avoid it.

A voice raised a few tables down. I turned my head to look.

“Draco Malfoy. The dancer I was telling you about.” Hermione giggled beside me. He had blond, almost white hair and was leant over a server, who was a good size smaller than him.

“You’re the entertainment, Malfoy. You have no right.” The brown haired server whimpered out.

“I could get you out of here in no time.” Draco snapped. “Get the damn orders right.”

I didn’t want to stare, but I couldn’t look away either. Why did he care so much? I hadn’t noticed him look at me until a figure right next to my face snapped me out of my trance.

“Blaise.” Hermione whispered to me. With a glance her way, she was smirking.

Great.

“Mr. Zabini.” My dad nodded his head at Blaise.

“Mr. Granger. This must be baby.” Blaise looked me up and down grossly and held his hand out to me. I hesitantly took it. To no surprise, he kissed it. I worked wonders not to show my uncomfort. My father and Blaise talked for a few minutes about the resort and how much money his family has until he eventually left, shooting a wink at me.

I let out a sigh as he left. My head turned back to where Draco Malfoy had been standing, he wasn’t anymore.

“He’s a nice boy, baby.” My father looked up at me.

I forced a small smile, not looking up. I wanted him to drop it. The last few minutes of lunch I sat with my head down hoping no one would say anything else about the subject.

I walked around the resort with Hermione for most of the day. Eventually I found myself just watching her swim with some people she’d met. Mother and father had gone golfing with some of their friends and left us to find something to do, which you wouldn’t think would be hard here.

Six came up on us pretty quickly, Hermione said goodbye to her friends for the day so we could get back to the cabin and get ready for dinner in the hall. Hermione dressed up more than I did, which is always expected. We met our parents at the entrance of the hall and sat down at a booth with them. We got our food ordered and I did well to hide from anyone I didn’t want to speak to, Blaise.

I held a decent conversation with my family as we ate, nothing too special. We were mainly just waiting for the show like everybody else.

The lights dimmed and most of the room went silent. The music that was playing changed and grew louder as a spotlight landed on two people on the stage in front of us. Draco malfoy with Pansy Parkinson's hand in his.

My eyes widened as I stared. Pansy had a beautiful muted pink ball gown dress on, and Draco was wearing a white dress shirt and black formal pants.

They took the first step as the music stopped getting louder and a steady beat formed. Their feet followed along to it.

Pansy knew how to work the crowd. It wasn't a formal dance, but it wasn't too vulgar. Her hands worked the skirt of her dress flawlessly and Draco worked with her perfectly.

He lifted her into the air effortlessly, her chest slid against his seductively as he set her down. She spinned like a top with her skirt following her as the room cheered them on.

The final step of the dance led them to the stage with pansy's leg posted up on Draco's shoulder, his hands on her hips as she leaned back and the lights shut off.

I couldn't hear it but I knew the room was going crazy. Well, as crazy as a bunch of rich middle aged couples could get.

That was the wrap up of dinner for the first night. I knew my parents would want to stay and talk to some of their friends so I stood up with Hermione and took her arm.

"Let's go back to the cabin before they start tying us into arranged marriages." I giggled at her and she agreed.

I couldn’t sleep that night. Everything called to me except the bed I was in. Careful not to wake a sleeping Hermione up, I pulled the covers up and slipped out of the cabin. The night was the type of quiet it should be, trees rustled with the singing of cicadas. A boy was walking my way when I got to the bridge leading to the main hall. He was carrying three watermelons, and then he wasn’t.

“Shit.” He did his best to pick them both back up. I jogged closer to him and picked one of them up. “Thanks. Kitchens just up this way.”

“Do you know Blaise?” I asked him without thinking. I realized I probably should’ve started off slower, but I guess my head was filled with gross images of what had happened at lunch.

He scoffed. “Yeah. I know him. A real asshole. He has a thing for getting us to seduce the women that come in on vacation.”

I rolled my eyes at the thought of him. "And what about Draco Malfoy?"

"He's put together, strong-headed but he's got a kind heart. What's your name by the way?' he asked.

"Baby. That's what everyone calls me."

"Well baby, I'm Vincent. Everyone calls me Crabbe." He gave me a smile.

We got to the kitchens of the main hall. Through the windows I could see the Zabini's socializing with their guests. I tried to keep my head down.

"This way, baby." Crabbe passed me. I set the watermelon down with the other two. Then I wasn't sure what to do. "You want to see something?" He gave me a smirk.

"Depends."

"It'll be fun. Follow me."

He led me out of the kitchens and down a path behind the building. It was a bit of a walk but through some trees there was another building that looked like a cabin. Muffled music came from it.

"Do you know how to dance?" Crabbe asked, nudging my shoulder and opening the door.

It was unlike anything I'd ever seen. The place was small but so many people were packed into it, dancing under the fluorescent lights. Not ballroom dancing like at the nightly shows, it was hot, and I knew I couldn't dance like this.

"This way." Crabbe took my hand. My feet worked on their own as my eyes wandered from the people in front of me.

"Crabbe!" We stopped. Standing in front of us was Draco Malfoy. "What are we going to do about the final show?"

Oblivious to the conversation, I looked at the girl beside him. She was leaning up against a post in the room. She was tall. Dark brown hair and a look of disgust on her face.

"Who's this." She interrupted the boys conversation, looking directly at me.

I looked away from her and lowered my head.

"This is baby. I told you already, Draco, I haven't found anyone yet. The final show isn't for another week. We've got time." Crabbe argued. Then, he looked to me and smiled. An idea flickered in his eyes. "Actually, maybe I have."

"Her? Does she even dance?" Draco looked me up and down, but not the way Blaise did. The opposite.

"No I don't-" I started.

"She does. She can learn." I wasn't sure what to do. I didn't feel like lying to these people, I didn’t even know them. But I also didn't feel like dancing, or learning.

I remembered what Hermione had told me. Draco performed the final show with Pansy. Was she Pansy?

"Pansy? Why can't you do it?" I asked.

Draco rolled his eyes and gave Crabbe a look of idiocy.

"Something came up. Go back to your playpen, baby." Pansy snapped and turned her back.

"Just give her a shot, Draco." Crabbe seemed too trusting for his own good. I was certain I couldn't do it.

Draco pushed past him, grabbing my hand and stomping his feet to the center of the room. I was awestruck. I couldn't do this.

He grabbed my waist when we stopped. His hips moved to the beat of the music blaring through the room. His finger tapped my waist and he nodded at me.

"To the beat, c'mon." His eyes never left mine.

I did my best to move my hips the same way he was. It was difficult. I'd never done anything like this and I'm sure if my family could see me they'd drop dead.

"Good, good. Now like this." He moved his hips the opposite way and held my chin to keep eye contact.

I could feel Crabbe and Pansy's eyes boring into me as I attempted to keep up with Draco. This whole situation felt so odd. Two minutes prior he would barely look at me.

The song ended and he stopped. "My cabin, top of the hill. Every day at 8." He sauntered back over to Crabbe and Pansy.

"Gave her a shot. If this doesn't work out you're dead." Draco spat at Crabbe.

I stood awkwardly in the center of the floor. My feet no longer worked on their own, or at all.

"Better get to work, baby." Pansy shouted at me. I looked at her, she shook her head with a shit eating grin on her face and followed Draco.

My feet suddenly had feeling in them again. I had no idea how this evening had even happened. Something got me out of bed tonight and something else tells me I shouldn't have.

I ran as quickly as I could past everyone in the room. Eventually making it out the door I found my breath. How was I going to get away with this? How was this even going to happen?

My feet carried me back to my cabin. All I wanted to do was hide under my covers from everything outside. Blaise, Draco, this dance I was now forced to learn.

The next morning I found an excuse to get away from my family and find Draco's cabin. It was fairly easy considering my parents would be doing the same thing every day and Hermione had found her own group yesterday.

I hiked up the hill behind the main building to Draco's cabin and stopped at his door. I lifted my hand to knock as I remembered why I was there. Nerves shook in my stomach. Getting out of this would be easy. All I would have to do is avoid Draco, Pansy and Crabbe for the remaining six days and keep my head down at the final dance.

That wasn't me though. Even though I had no say so in this ordeal at all, I felt like I had to fix this for them.

I said fuck it and knocked. Heavy footsteps drew closer to the door and it swung open.

Draco stepped to the side to let me in. He let the door close behind him.

"Where do we start?" I asked him as he fiddled with a music player sitting on the floor.

"Footwork. You have to get the fundamentals down and this dance relies heavily on it." He started in front of me and put his hands on my hips.

I took a deep breath in preparation for the rest of the day.

"Stop stepping on my feet, baby."

"Arms up, stay in your circle. This is my circle. Stay in yours."

"Good, again. Not like that."

My feet were sore by the end of the day. He wasn't too awful, I had thought the night before that he had something against me but I think it's just his personality.

The next day was the same as the first. Footwork. Don't step on me and stay in your circle. I was getting less and less critiques as we went on, though.

The third day was a little different. We started on the first steps of the routine. He was getting easier to handle day after day. He was still cold and irritable, but I saw him smile for the first time the third day.

I'd attempted the first spin about 10 times and stumbled every time, or missed his hand I was supposed to grab. Finally, he spun me and pulled me back to him, and my hand caught his.

Our faces were inches from each other. He was pretty. I hadn't really noticed before that day, he was very pretty. His eyes flicked down to my lips.

"Perfect." He startled me.

Me?

"We start on the jump tomorrow." He let me go.

Of course not.

The first three days had to be rushed so we could start on the jump as soon as possible. When I got to his cabin the fourth day I was running from the rain. He was leaning up against his door waiting for me.

"Let's go." He said when I reached him.

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion as I followed him down a path behind his cabin. "Go where, exactly?"

"You'll see."

He stopped at a large creek in the woods where a tree had fallen over crossing it. He offered his hand to me.

"No way. You're serious?" I took a step back.

"We have to work on balance, baby. I won't let you fall, I promise." He took my hand this time.

We stopped in the middle. He placed his hands tightly on my waste.

"Now, jump"

My eyes felt like they were going to pop out of my head.

"It's raining, Draco, I'm going to fall." I retaliated.

"You are not, baby. Trust me and trust yourself."

"Fine." I huffed. I jumped just enough to get my toes off of the tree.

"And, down." His hands didn't leave my waist like they normally would. "Again, try higher this time."

I took a deep breath and jumped harder. My feet were unbalanced when I did and I felt it. His arms wrapped around me as he caught me, trying not to fall over himself.

"Can we just go back to the cabin?" I shook with nerves in his arms.

"We'll go to the lake. Can't have you breaking your neck in the cabin either." He held my hands as we got off of the tree and headed down to the lake.

I don't think he realized he hadn't let go of one of them.

"Right, love. This will be easier. Don't worry about falling." He said absentmindedly as we entered the lake.

There was still a downpour as evening grew to night. We started out small. He could easily hold me, it was about my ability to balance myself.

"Now, you'll go above my head and hold." I nodded my head at him.

I jumped with all I had. My eyes were closed in anticipation of my face meeting the water again, but it didn't.

"Hold, baby." Draco said from under me.

And I did. My sides were killing me, but I held it until he tapped my thigh with his fingers. I let myself fall back in front of him and my head fall.

"I think I'm done for tonight. That's starting to hurt." I told him.

Hands. His hands were on my hips.

"Of course. We'll perfect it tomorrow and finish it the next. You're doing perfect." He said. I started to shiver from the rain and cold lake water.

"Oh, baby. I'm sorry. I should've known. I'll get you back, let's go." He said, but he wasn't moving.

"I don't really want to go back to my cabin." I managed to force out.

"You can't stay in the lake all night." He chuckled.

I looked at him. I couldn't believe how intoxicating he looked.

"I said I didn't want to go back to mine." I had no idea what had gotten into me.

His hands on my hips moved to my face. I had no idea what had gotten into him, either.

"Then stay with me." He whispered. I nodded slightly, impatiently.

His hand went to my neck and he pulled my head closer, kissing me.

My mind had completely left my body. This had to be a dream. I knew it wasn't when he lifted my legs up to wrap around his waist, deepening the kiss.

"Perfect." He said as his forehead pressed against mine. "I meant you." My heart stopped working at this point. "Let's get you to bed. My bed."

Nothing happened that night with Draco, other than being completely sure I was in love with him. I just didn't know if it was because I was tired at the time.

The last few days I had pushed it out of my mind. My nerves focused more on the dance than they did about my feelings for Draco. The final dance was here.

"Follow my lead, and if you forget anything just improvise from what you've learned." He held my hand from behind the curtain.

It lifted and the light hit me. I knew my parents were here and I would probably be killed after this, but I couldn't let Draco down.

The music started and so did we. I moved in sync with him, and did my best not to look stiff during my parts.

The jump was seconds away, and my heart had nearly bursted from nerves and from Draco's eyes on mine the whole time. I flicked my dress back and forth with my hands and ran to Draco who had his arms out waiting to catch me.

I flew over his head and held myself in place. The room erupted into cheers just as it did the first night when Pansy was in my place.

Our last few steps were perfect, and the lights went out. Draco grabbed my face and kissed me all over.

"Perfect, baby. Absolutely perfect. I'll have to replace you with Pansy." He joked.

My face fell.

"Don't worry, baby. I'll take care of your folks and Blaise. Leave it to me."

"No, Draco. Pansy. Aren't you and Pansy?"

"No, baby. Of course not. That's for show. She has a guy. And I found my girl." He kissed me again. I kissed him back. His girl.

Hermione had been right on the way to Kellerman's. This was the best summer I'd ever had.

#draco malfoy #harry potter #harry potter imagines #hp #hp imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagines #collab

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xhxhxhx · 4 years

Link

At the end of June, the New York Times national poll had Joe Biden ahead of Donald Trump nationally by a 14-point national margin and in battleground states by smaller but substantial margins.

Last week, the Times is profiling voters in battleground states who voted for Trump in 2016, but don’t support him now. Most of his 2016 voters still support him -- 86 percent -- but a small but critical number don’t.

6 percent say they don’t support Trump and there’s no chance they’ll support him again. That small share is enough to flip Michigan, Pennsylvania, Wisconsin, and Florida, and with it, the election.

I’m posting this here because these voters’ reasons surprised me.

I expected the economy to be critical to these voters. The United States is in a deep recession, with a 13 percent unemployment rate and more out of the labor market. GDP fell sharply and will fall further.

Although the federal government has supported families -- personal disposable income is actually up this year -- spending has fallen sharply, businesses have closed, and many employees have been permanently laid-off.

Those are the sort circumstances that cost leaders elections. Nixon lost to Kennedy, Carter lost to Reagan, Bush lost to Clinton, and McCain lost to Obama largely because their party held office during a recession.

If anything, this more severe recession should have focused attention on the economy and persuaded Trump’s voters to switch. But these voters focused on something else: race.

The Times found that Trump “lost voters because of his handling of the growing movement against police brutality and entrenched racism”:

More than 80 percent of those who won’t vote for him again say that Mr. Biden would do a better job on race relations or unifying America. Of the Trump voters who have not ruled out voting for him again, only around 10 percent said they trusted Mr. Biden to do a better job on race relations.

I would have assumed that the switchers would have been more college-educated or younger, but they weren’t. They were similar to his supporters in their age, education, and race.

Their differences were about beliefs, especially about race. Half of them believed that Trump would be worse than Biden on the economy, but four-fifths of them believed that he would be worse on race.

The Times spoke to one of the switchers:

Cathleen Graham, 53, a nurse who lives in a mostly white suburb of Grand Rapids, Mich., has had very different life experiences, but came to the same conclusion. She said she had been shocked to learn how much racism still existed.

“I understand the movement and why it’s going on a lot better than I did than when the gentleman was kneeling at the football game,” she said, referring to Colin Kaepernick. “Even speaking up to support it, I’ve lost friends, friends that were crude, and I was like, ‘How can you even think that of another race?’”

Mr. Trump fits in that category, she said. She plans to vote for Mr. Biden.

Nearly everything about this surprised me.

It surprised me that the economy was not more decisive for switchers. It surprised me that race was decisive. And more than anything, it surprised me that race helped Biden, and hurt Trump.

It surprised the Times’s Nate Cohn, too:

Michael Barbaro So what about the second big issue that you said voters disapprove of the president’s management of, which is race and the protests over race and policing?

Nate Cohn Right. Just a whole spectrum of different issues relating to race and criminal justice and the protests, the president’s ratings are even worse on those issues than they are on the coronavirus. And here again, the president has this fundamental disconnect with the electorate, where his priorities aren’t the same as theirs. I mean, we asked whether they would rather have a candidate who says that we need to be tough on protests that go too far, or whether they would rather have a candidate who says we need to focus on the cause of protests, even when they go too far. And voters said, by a 40-point margin, that they would rather have the candidate who focuses on the cause of the protests, even when they’re going too far. And it’s also including a significant number of people who backed the president.

Michael Barbaro So the gulf between how the president is talking about these protests and how voters across the battleground states are thinking about these protests is enormous.

Nate Cohn Yeah. And I wouldn’t have guessed that, personally.

I wouldn’t have guessed it either. I wouldn’t have guessed that white American Trump voters would come around on Trump and race. I worried they might be beyond persuasion.

I worried the protests wouldn’t work. I thought they would open an old wound and turn white Americans against Black and Brown Americans. I worried they would end like the last wave of protests, in disappointment and reaction.

I am as surprised as anyone that the protests did something else: They changed minds. They made a small number of Americans change their minds and embrace something better.

That made me a little more hopeful about America.

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georgescatcafe · 4 years

Text

vermillion — 1

rating: t warning/s: period-typical homophobia pairing/s: georgenap genres/tags: cowboy x city boy au, rancher sapnap, rich george, coming of age, slow burn word count: 3,152 summary: When Sapnap gets sent into the city to get quick cash for his family’s struggling ranch, he’s not expecting much from the experience—lights aren't very blinding when held up to the Sun, and he's not exactly there to play around. But then he meets George, a boy built on money, who quickly sweeps in not just paying customers but also Sapnap, leading him into what any ruddy country boy would call the mouth of the Devil: high society. Cue a summer spent by each other’s side while feelings run unbidden, uncaring of deadlines and restraints.

It should be enough for the pair—and for awhile, it is, right up until it isn’t.

+ao3 +masterpost

;;

PART I

1994

Going to the city alone isn’t too different from going with his Pa. The drive there is mild, skies blue, sunny, fields on both sides of his muddied pickup stretching out endless and golden, ready to be cut down. Nick is sixteen now, old enough to head to the market on his own, license shiny and new, brain bright and sharp. He’s been preparing for this, and now it’s time for him to show off what he knows.

He had thought the 80s were bad, his dad cursing some figurative Big Man (Nick’s pretty sure he just meant the government) and constantly pushing hard on the ranch to make ends meet. They aren’t farmers, their neighbors having it way harder than they could, but it was rough, and it’s still rough—everything is so expensive, so now Nick is their last hope, Pa working the ranch, son sent off to the city to try and get some immediate cash. It’s hard to deny freshly cut steaks.

They’ve got horses too, pretty ones, some sold to be racers, but mostly pretty ones. Nick’s been planning to propose they start some summer thing, parents bringing their kids to the ranch to ride the horses, get the wind in their hair from something other than a car with its windows down. Not this year, though. (The highway sign tells him his exit is in two miles. Nick focuses back on the road.) This year, he’s busy.

;;

Pulling into the market’s parking lot, Nick doesn’t feel blinded. Really, opening the truck door finds him with a lungful of stink, and his thoughts are drowned out by the honking of horns and shouting of pedestrians. He thinks he hears a bell tower in the distance—does this city have a college?—but he can’t be sure.

It’s nothing glamorous.

Rounding his truck, he gets the coolers out the back, gets the papers too, lists of cows they’ve got, some horses, sheep, goats. Pa wants to get rid of them, but Ma likes to make sweaters. The sheep can be costly, but sweaters cost others, so Nick guesses it all balances out. They’re not getting rid of any chickens this year, but Nick’s two coolers definitely have some plucked birds. He blinks, remembering the eggs. He’s got some of those to sell too, and they don’t even need to be refrigerated. He’ll get them later.

Finding his shop is easy. The signs pointing out where everything is are all done in a looping, confusing cursive, so Nick forgoes reading them to just follow the sight of flannel and the smell of smoking meat. And there it is. A booth, the sign above it not in cursive (thank God) and declaring the name of their ranch in bold. Once Nick’s got all his things in place, he comes to stand proudly at it. PAPPAS RANCH above, Nick Pappas below.

Things go a lot slower after that. People don’t really flock to him, people don’t even come up to him. If anyone does, it’s at a meandering pace, like the wind might’ve pushed them more than them deciding to look. It’s a little humiliating, but Nick does his best to sell what he can. He’s not really concerned about the meat, and the animals are all still alive and fine on the ranch, but he is concerned about cash, and he knows they need it. Customers are vital. There just… aren’t any.

He leans back on his heels, surveying the marketplace. It’s quaint, kind of cute. Not as rugged and rough as the one in town, more proper-looking. To be expected. He people-watches. The people are people. No one is particularly interesting. Another customer is blown towards him. Nick sells them a couple twelve-ounce filets. He pays a little more attention after that.

Still, that’s the only big purchase he gets, and he tries not to let it sit on his mind too heavily when he heads back to his truck, coolers and folder and cash in hand. The night is warm, and he’s grateful for it when he settles in the bed of his pickup. In hope of saving some money, he’d turned down his parents’ offers of a hotel, the reluctance of giving up cash clear on his dad’s face anyway, so now Nick is left to sleep in his truck bed, surrounded by coolers and tarp and blankets. When he rolls over, he winces. He’d put the cash in a little safe then tucked that little safe under his makeshift bed. It sticks out uncomfortably underneath him. Oh well. He literally made his bed. Now he’s lying in it.

;;

Morning comes before he’s ready for it, and he finds himself glaring at the Sun as it creeps over the horizon, taunting him with cotton candy skies and sweet birdsong. The night wasn’t much better, with the safe in his back, with the city still awake long after the market closed. Despite his exhaustion from the drive, from standing, sleep did not come easily, and Nick feels the effects of that as he sets up shop all over again, goes to the market’s little bathroom installed down the way to change clothes, to splash water on his face. He groans when he remembers his toothbrush, still in his truck. He goes to get it anyway.

So, his start is a little slow, so what? Nick ties his bandana tighter around his head when he reaches his booth, double-checking his inventory before smiling at the woman who runs the booth across from his. She tips her hat at him in return.

There’s more people coming around today, which is good, and it makes sense. It’s a Thursday, which, while it isn’t the weekend, it’s getting there, and Nick eagerly anticipates it.

He makes a deal for one of their cows, sells some filets, some chicken thighs and veal—it’s a better day. He’s hesitant to call it good.

;;

Like the day before, Friday comes bright and early, uncomfortably so. He climbs out of his truck, gets his things—the whole rinse, wash, repeat. And then he’s back at his booth, saying hello to the woman across, again she tips her hat, and he’s drumming his fingers on the tabletop.

Nothing.

Nick takes a breath, holds it, lets it out. Things are fine. He’s fine. Rome wasn’t built in a day; Pappas Ranch doesn’t sell their entire inventory in two. It’s fine.

It’s still early, a whole day ahead, and though Nick braces himself for disappointment, he tries not to let it show, still standing tall beneath the sign above his booth. He just needs to be approachable, smile, be the charming boy his Pa raised him to be.

It works when two women walk by, mother and daughter, probably, arms linked, the two of them chatting only to stop at Nick’s booth, the mother smiling politely at him and daughter waving. “We’re having guests over tonight,” the mother says.

“How many?” Nick asks. And the deal goes through.

And it works with an older man, eating only for himself, but wanting to stock up for the weekend. A full guys’ thing. But it’s just him. Nick tells him he gets it, and he’s a few chickens shorter, a rack of lamb ribs gone.

It’s around lunch that things slow down, leaving Nick mildly surprised, but not entirely annoyed, as he uses his own pocket change to get some fruit from a farmer in another section, and an elderly woman three booths down gives him a little bit of smoked pork free of charge. It’s a meager, but good lunch. He’s leaning up against the wall, apple in hand, surveying the business still going on, when he spies someone who looks his age, hair a dark brown, eyes the same, dressed a bit more upscale for a market, even if this market is in the city. Nick pushes himself off the wall when the boy makes his way over to him. It’s a very deliberate walk, and Nick stands straighter for it, not showing off or anything, more like sizing up the competition—the competition for or on what, only Nick’s subconscious knows.

“Pappas Ranch,” the boy reads, and Nick almost laughs at the accent coloring his words. “Are you Papa?”

And the question is so reasonable yet so absurd, spun wonky with the accent, that it makes Nick laugh and reply with a name not quite right either: “Nah, I’m Sapnap.”

It’s such an… outdated name, given to him as a kid by an enthusiastic pen pal and then latched onto by his parents, fading out of fashion the moment he hit double-digits, when he started working his way up the ranch. The name is dumb too, zero sense without context, still stupid even with it, and he feels every bit of its stupidity when the boy studies him, unamused.

“Sapnap?” The word comes slow off his tongue, and Nick resists the urge to flush a bright red.

“Yeah, what about it?” He plants his feet firmer in the ground, wanting to shift from foot to foot but refusing. Refuses to take back the name too.

“Sounds dumb.”

Nick stutters out some excuse that falls flat before straightening. “What’s your name then, hotshot?”

“George,” and oh, isn’t that hilarious? Talk about outdated.

“My name might be stupid, but at least it isn’t lame as hell!”

George, of course, doesn’t like that, and that fact makes Nick grin, eyes growing wild when George grips the edge of the table between them to lean forward. “Fuck off.” Their noses nearly touch.

“This is my booth,” Nick replies.

“My city,” George shoots back, and Nick stops himself from rolling his eyes.

“It’s a city.” Nick raises a brow when George merely huffs, leaning against the booth. He spies the apple in Nick’s hand, and Nick fights back the urge to hide it, possessive. “What?” It’s his lunch. What about it? Workers eat too. Not that someone like George would know that. Nick gives him a cursory once over that George ignores, still focused on the fruit.

“Where’d you get that?” George asks. “It looks fresh.”

“It is,” Nick points towards the booth he got it from, “over there. Everything here is fresh, dumbass.”

“What time is it?”

“Noon, I reckon.”

George studies him, still leaning against the booth, head coming closer and closer to Nick’s the longer he stares. “Your lunch?” Both of his hands now press down on the table between them, fingers splayed. His nails are short but nice. Nick’s have dirt under them. He holds his apple tighter.

“Yeah. What about it?”

“Come with me,” George says, and Nick frowns as George moves away from the booth to nod his head towards the main road. “You can take a break.”

“Not really,” Nick wants to reply (break? Lunch was his break. He’s got to work!), but then George pivots and starts walking away, and he can’t have that, so he follows. “My stuff—”

“Will be safe, chill out,” George tells him. He glances behind and meets Nick’s eyes. Nick wonders if the other will crash into any of the various obstacles around them, booths, pedestrians, goods, fucking rocks in the walkway or something, but he doesn’t, just keeps walking. Part of Nick hopes he crashes. Wants to see him trip, fall, ruin his pants—they’re fancy, clean with those pressed lines down the middle. In the middle of the market, however upscale, they look stupid as hell. To see the knees covered in dust, caked in dirt, it’d make Nick pretty happy. He smiles at the image, and George, though brows end up quirked in confusion, offers a smile back.

Nick stumbles, a direct opposite to his imagination, but it’s because it’s not the city that’s blinding—it’s George’s smile. He blinks, glances behind himself; does George have a particularly white smile? Artificial, does George reap the benefits of being rich? Does the sun glint off those bleached teeth? But the Sun is still high overhead. And George’s teeth were white, but not white enough to be fake. Nick shakes his head, not wanting to get caught up in the thoughts, merely following after the other still. They’re out past the market now, heading deeper into the city. Delicatessens, bakeries, designer shops, and corner stores line the road, and Nick stares into the windows of them all with rapt attention. Sapnap, that’s what he told George his name was, and maybe here he is: Sapnap, someone else, someone new, someone who could walk by George’s side like it’s where he’s been his whole life, like the city is all he knows.

Looking at the elite walking by, Nick knows it wouldn’t be sustainable, not for him, but just for a bit, he can pretend. He glances over at George, who walks on ahead, easy, unassuming if not for the sun in his hair, spinning it into gold, unassuming if not for the set of his shoulders, the quiet confidence with which he carries himself. Carefully, he attempts to imitate the other.

They walk for another few minutes, and Nick is starting to worry about his things, about whether he’ll make it back in time for the after-school rush, the dinner rush, the weekend—when George finally stops and pushes open the door of a restaurant named something Nick can’t pronounce.

“Is that French?” he asks George.

“Yeah,” George replies, “I can’t pronounce it, though.”

“I thought all rich people knew French,” Nick says.

“Next state over,” George tells him. “Or in the east maybe. I’m taking Spanish.”

“My cousin knows Creole.” George hums before smiling at the host and asking for a table for two. The fancy atmosphere, however much a consequence of location and George’s upbringing, the host’s look over George’s shoulder at Nick, table for two—all of it sends Nick’s skeleton rattling, bones shaking and shivering under layers of skin and muscle, his brain easily equating these things to a date. But George isn’t like that. He’s just fancy. And Nick isn’t like that either. This is just what rich people do in the city. What everyone does in the city. They get lunch.

When they’re seated, Nick tugs at his collar. He’s not hot, but God, has he grown uncomfortable. He’s got dirt behind his knees he’s sure, and when he speaks it’s not that smooth, sweet voice George has got, and the slight beard he’s finally started to get only makes him all the scruffier. He’s a fish out of water, and he’s growing more and more certain it shows.

“Sapnap,” George says, “are you alright?”

And oh. Right. He’s not Nick. To George, he’s Sapnap, and George is taking Sapnap to lunch, which means he thinks Sapnap is able to be seen in a place like this, if not alone then with George, so it’s fine. Nick’s hand falls from his shirt to the table, where it curls around napkin-wrapped cutlery. “Yeah,” he replies, “I’m fine. Uh. Can you read this menu?”

“It’s in English, Sapnap.” George’s tone is dry, but it’s a joke, and his eyes squint with his smile. Nick smiles back.

;;

Despite their smiles, despite sharing a meal, they don’t get along. Nick wants to help provide for lunch, but he also can’t, not really, so they argue over that, and they argued over what to get too, because Nick is a firm believer in trying everything so let’s just split stuff, George, but George is apparently a possessive little bitch, so his idea was continually shot down, but then when a waitress came by, George ordered what Nick had suggested, so they argued over that, and when they left, George argued for a treat and Nick argued that he had to get back to work.

Nick won that one, but George stuck by his side as they traced their steps to the market.

Despite their inability to get along, they become what Nick thinks might just be friends.

“If I lost all my shit ‘cause of you,” Nick starts, but George just rolls his eyes. And when they reach his booth, it’s fine, like George had said it’d be, but Nick does lament the lost customers in the time spent out. He still has an afternoon ahead, but he still took off way more time than he’d have liked.

“It’s fine,” George tells him, hopping up onto the front little ledge of the booth. “I’ll help you sell it, or something.”

“You don’t have anywhere to be?” Nick asks him, checking his inventory one more time, just to make certain nothing’s been stolen.

George shakes his head, kicking his feet slightly, not stopping even when it makes the booth begin to sway. Nick steadies it with a careful hand, and George sends him a grateful look, though he still kicks his feet. “It’s summer.” He watches as Nick pulls out a chunk of meat, chuck, drops it onto the proper counter set up behind the pretty covering the booth makes, and sets about cutting it into pieces. “Nothing to do.”

“For you,” Nick says.

“For me,” George agrees.

Nick fixes up the beef, thinking about the restaurant, the roast he saw somewhere on the menu—that’s what people’ll use this meat for, he’s getting creative—and leans back, fingers curling around the countertop. “So what exactly are you proposing?”

George shrugs. “I can get you good food; I can advertise good food. You can cut what will one day be good food and keep the cash.”

“You’d do this for no pay?” Nick asks.

George tilts his head back, exposing the long column of his throat. Nick watches as sunlight catches his skin; George hadn’t seemed to sweat much, but now Nick sees where it’s damp on his skin, the light making it shimmer. Nick looks away. It didn’t look gross. George finally lowers his head. He doesn’t look gross. “I don’t need it,” George says. “And I’m not stupid. My dad works with some people from the city stockyard. You need the cash, don’t you?”

Nick fights back the urge to make a face. “Yeah. Did you remember that before or after you made me get lunch with you?”

George at least looks a little guilty. Nick takes what he can get. “Look,” George finally says, “I’m not terrible at marketing. And I know what people here want. Can you really say no?”

He can. Nick could say no and tell George to leave. Could say no and thanks, but lunch actually sucked (it didn’t). He could say a number of things that would get rid of George’s company.

He doesn’t.

“Just don’t get in my way, okay?” He and George lock eyes. George nods. Nick tightens his grip on the counter, surveys the steadily crowding market. “So who’re you going to reel in first, hotshot?”

;;

#snf vermillion #georgenap #sapnotfound #snf #fic #fanfiction

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