#00s sound collage

[goldberrg]

surely "bestfriends"

summary : You and Billy have been best friends for a while, but when he comes over unexpectedly.

TW's – cursing, sex (in details)

The end of your pencil tapped against the edge of your desk, the side of your head resting on your hand. Your leg bounced to the same rhythm as your pencil, while you listened to your teacher finish up telling you guys about a project. You were all reading "Pride and Prejudice", or at least had read it, and now needed to do the final project for it. You were aloud to work in groups of up to four, but you knew you'd only be working with one person – your best friend, Billy Hargrove.

Billy's step-mom, Susan, and your own mother were close friends. They worked together, and when you had been invited over for dinner the first week they moved to Hawkins, you and Billy had clicked. The two of you spent most of the night in his room, flipping through his vinyl's and helping him hang up his posters. You couldn't help but mock him about the clichè Playboy posters he had, and all the random crap in his room. But the two of you hit it off, becoming close friends quick.

And now he was your partner for every english assignment, art project, and science project. Those were the three classes you shared together. The first time you tried pairing up with someone other than him, a girl named Cheryl, he didn't speak to you for three whole days. Even when he drove you to and from school, he blared his music so loud your ears rang for hours afterwards.

Only after the project was over, and you showed up at his door with two tickets to see a movie.

Once your teacher had finished giving out her information and instructions, the class dispersed to get with their groups or partners. You leaned your head back, already finding Billy getting up from his seat behind you. He tossed his backpack onto the now-vacant desk beside yours, slamming his body into the chair with a grunt. This was your cue to get up and go get the poster board you would need for the project. You returned with a plain, white board compared to the other varying colors of purple, green, blue and red.

— Get your gross feet off the desk. — you ordered, glaring down at Billy since your hands were preoccupied. Billy rolled his eyes, but complied and removed his feet, the legs of the chair falling back onto the floor.

— Alright, doll, what's the plan? — Billy questioned, reaching into your backpack and pulling out your personal copy of the book. You'd already read the book various times throughout middle school and early high school, so you and Billy switched off borrowing your book.

— I figured I'd paint the board, sort of like a collage. Have different things on it. — you explained, looking down at him from the other side of the desk.

— Sounds good to me. We have two weeks, right? — he asked, quirking an eyebrow up at you.

— Yup, so if you don't finish the book by then, I'll kick your fucking ass. — you hissed, watching as he paused his skimming through the book.

— What?

— There weren't any lions in the book, jerk. You have two days to finish it. You're three fourths done, because that's how much we've read together, so you can finish a hundred pages by Thursday. — you sighed, rolling your eyes.

You walked over and sat in your own chair.

— Yeah, yeah, alright Your Highness. — he grumbled, closing the book and tossing it on top of the poster. — What else? We're doing the whole 'main characters, theme, plot, climax' stuff, right?

— Of course that's the only word you'd remember. — you grinned, shoving his shoulder as he laughed. — The dramatic structure, yes. And all the other stuff. We'll split it up. — you said, putting the book away. — You're coming over after dropping Max off, right? — you asked, standing up.

— Yeah. Most likely around 4:00. — he said, standing up as well when the bell rang and slinging his bag over his shoulder. — Let's go, doll.

Once Billy dropped you off at home, you laid the poster board on your bed and your backpack by your desk. You decided to shower and change into comfy clothes before Billy came over, after all you had about an hour. So you grabbed a pair of skull pajama pants and a big shirt, before heading into the bathroom. You turned the water on high, stripping off your clothes from the day, leaving you in your underwear. Grabbing your moms essential rose oil, you dropped a couple drops into the shower before leaving it slightly unopened on the rack next to the shower. The smell would help relieve the tension of the day, and get you focused for schoolwork. Finally, you took off your bra and underwear, stepping in.

The hot water hit you in the face, and you welcomed it. Scrubbing your face, you made sure to get your mascara and concealer off so that when you got out you wouldn't look horrifying. You let the water travel to your hair, smoothing it down your shoulders. Steam filled up the bathroom, the smell of rose invading your senses.

The roaring of the water was so loud that you didn't hear your front door open or Billy shouting for you name.

Billy pulled up to your driveway, hopping out of his car and heading up to the front door. Max had been dropped off at Mike's, not Dustin's, so it was a lot closer than he thought. He decided not to stop at home afterwards, and just head straight to your place. So he got there around 3:20, rather than 4:00. Not that big of a deal.

Banging on the door, Billy waited a minute or two for you to answer. When you didn't, he tried again, but louder. After the third time, Billy just barged in, rolling his eyes at the fact it was unlocked.

— Hey! Y/N? — he called out, hearing the shower running. Kicking his shoes off by the door, Billy tossed his jacket onto the back of your couch. He didn't hear a response from you, so he headed towards the bathroom. Knocking on the door with his knuckles, he leaned against the frame.

— Come in! — Billy's eyes shot open, looking at the closed door in shock.

As you were putting shampoo into your hair, you heard a knock on the bathroom door. You looked over at it through the glass doors, thinking of who it could be. Your mom wouldn't be home until later, and an intruder wouldn't fucking knock. So you probably lost track of time, and it was Billy.

— Come in. — you called out, not minding if he did or not. The glass walls were textured and opaque so he wouldn't be able to see anything porn-worthy.

And the two of you had paraded around in front of each other with your underwear on before, it wasn't much different. There was a pause before the door creaked open, and the outline of Billy came in.

— Sorry I'm early, doll. — he said, his voice darker than normal. — It didn't take as long to drop Max off. And I figured I'd stop by right after to get a head start on the project, maybe hang out for a while. I didn't realize you'd be naked.

— It's fine. — you laughed, opening the door slightly so you could poke your head out. He was sitting on the sink counter, shirtless. Every other girl in Hawkins was wet for Billy Hargrove, how could they not be? And of course you fell into that category. But you couldn't express it like they could, even though you were closer to him than they were. A few times a week, you'd find your hand sneaking down your underwear, his name leaving your mouth as you writhed against your sheets.

— Don't take too long, alright? — Billy pleaded, when he looked up and saw you looking out of the shower. His cheeks were red, but you passed it off as the hot steam. — Why the hell does it smell like roses in here? There aren't any flowers. — he questioned suddenly, lifting his nose in the air and diverting his eyes away from your wet neck.

— It's my momma's rose oil. I use it to relax. — you said, a 'duh' tone to your voice as you closed the door. — And I'll take however damn long as I please.

— Course you will. — Billy grumbled, and you smirked to yourself. You washed away the shampoo as Billy fired off more questions. — Why do you need rose oil to relax? Doesn't that burning water help?

— Not entirely. It helps my muscles from being hunched over all day, and the steam helps with my nose. But the rose oil adds the extra flare. It's rejuvenating.

— Rejuvenating? The hell's that supposed to mean? — Billy ridiculed, hopping off the counter and moving closer to the door so he could hear you better over the shower.

— It's like... I don't know Billy! — you huffed, opening the door suddenly and popping your head out. You were startled when you came face-to-face with him, noticing the way his eyes darted down to your nearly exposed chest and back up. — It helps with headaches, my skin if I apply it directly onto it, and the smell is just nice. Don't you think? It's just fucking relaxing. Unlike you right now. It's amplified in the shower, so I apologize if you're not getting the full treatment. — you snapped, getting frustrated. Having Billy so close in an intimate setting was rough, especially when you couldn't touch. It was like a goddamn museum, you can look, drool and adore. But if you touch, you're getting arrested.

— I'm getting the full treatment just fine, baby. — Billy snickered, leaning closer to you as his eyes dragged up and down your hidden form. Your face heated up, and you shot your hand out, shoving his face back.

— Pff, yeah right, Hargrove. — you scoffed, closing the door and diving under the water. Your breathing was heavy and you tried to mellow it out by focusing on your conditioner.

— You still with that Caden guy? — Billy suddenly asked, his voice now on the other side of the doors, causing your eyebrows to furrow.

— No, I broke it off two weeks ago. Remember? He couldn't decide if he wanted me or Jenny more, even though he was fucking her the whole time.?— you laughed dryly, running the conditioner through your hair as you shook your head at the memory.

— Good. — Billy muttered, but you still caught it. — You could do so much better than him.

— Yeah? — you laughed, shaking your hair to even out the conditioner. — Like who, you?

— Exactly like me. — you stopped, and turned to the end of the doors. There was an audible zipping sound, causing your heart to speed up.

— That so? And what makes you think that, Billy? — you called out, biting your lip and turning to face the water again, washing out the conditioner, in hopes of calming yourself. Your heart hammered against your chest when you heard the shower doors open, as if it was about to leap out of your throat. You didn't turn around however, opting to close your eyes as the water hit your face.

— Cause. — he replied simply, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear.

Your eyes shot open as rough hands gripped at your hips, spinning you around. Your arms collided with Billy's chest, your head tilting up to look at him. His blond hair was beginning to stick to his face, and his blue eyes stuck out more than ever against the tiles. You weren't given anymore time to admire him, because his lips were on yours instantly. Both of you were swallowing water, your lips pushing against each other desperately. Billy walked the two of you backwards carefully, making sure you didn't slip, until your back hit the wall. You were now out of the harsh spray of the water, and you broke away to gasp for clear air.

— Are you.. — you attempted to ask, not wanting him to regret this, and have the friendship ruined.

— Yes, yes I'm sure, Y/N. — Billy said, not giving you the chance to finish. His hand reached up, pushing your wet, dark hair out of your face before leaning back down to capture you in another demanding kiss. Your fingers tangled in his damp curls, tugging slightly when his hands gripped your waist tightly.

Billy moved his hands under your thighs and crouched, indicating you to jump, and you did. Your legs tightened around his waist for dear life, knowing that if either of you gave out it'd end in a naked hospital trip.

— Fuck. — you moaned out, breaking the kiss as his cock rubbed against your pussy, tilting your head back. Billy ducked his head, attaching his mouth to the center of your throat, biting the thin flesh before sucking it. You whimpered, moving your body up and down the slick wall slightly, giving the both of you more friction. His nails dug into your ass, pinning you to the wall so you couldn't move.

— Don't do that, princess. — he warned lowly, vibrating against your throat. You could feel the occasional pulse of his cock against you, and you wanted nothing more than for it to be in you. Whether it was your mouth or pussy, you didn't care. You just wanted it.

— Billy, please. — you whined, after having waited patiently for him to finishing sucking on your neck.

— What do you want, baby. — he growled, pulling back to look up at you. You didn't answer him, instead you held onto his shoulders tightly so you could unwrap your legs without death. Once your feet were safely on the ground, you flipped the two of you, so his back was against the wall and your back was facing the water. Giving him a smirk, you kissed the corner of his mouth before getting on your knees. Billy's tongue darted out, licking along his lips while looking down at you, his hand running through your wet hair. Grabbing his dick in your hand, you pulled at it a few times, twisting your hand along the base. Leaning down, you gave the tip a few kitten licks, gathering the pre-cum onto your tongue. Looking up at Billy, you waited until his eyes fluttered closed before taking the beginning of his dick into your mouth.

— Ugh, Y/N. — Billy grunted, his hold on your hair tightening. You smiled internally, licking the underside of his cock, and then left to right in order to ease your mouth farther down. It took a few minutes, but soon enough the tip had gone past your tonsils. Your eyes were watering, and saliva was dribbling out of the edges of your mouth. Billy's hips bucked against your mouth, his tight grip on your hair giving you a steady rhythm. Continuous moans streamed out of his mouth, and eventually you were roughly pulled off of his dick.

— Not yet, baby. — he said, more so to himself than you. You understood what he meant, and grinned in satisfaction. Putting his finger under your chin, Billy guided you to stand up. Holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger, Billy pulled you in for a slower, more passionate kiss. Your hands rested on his chest, relishing in the warmth of the water and his body. His free hand traveled down the small of your back, tickling you as he went, before gropping your ass.

— Billy.. — you gasped, your voice breathless. You grinded yourself against him again, growing impatient. You looked into his eyes, chewing on your bottom lip to keep in your needy whines. Billy simply smirked down at you, fully aware of what it was you wanted – no, needed.

— Hmm? — he hummed, a wicked grin on his face. You let out an impatient huff, ducking your head to harshly bite at his shoulder. Billy hissed out, the hold on your ass tightening before it released. You thought he was just gonna move you two, but instead he brought his hand down in a harsh slap.

— Ah, Fuck. — you cried out in shock, arching your back.

— Don't bite. — he warned, and then he finally pushed your body against the wall on the side, the cool tile instantly calming down your burning ass cheek.

— Then fuck me already, you jerk. — you snapped, running your thumb over the bite mark on his shoulder. Billy's eyebrow rose at your bold statement, and you simply grinned up at him. His fingers ran down your stomach, tracing at your curves and marks of imperfections. He kept eye contact with you as his middle and ring finger dipped between your folds, slowly dragging from your entrance to your clit. Your body jumped at finally being touched, a sigh leaving your mouth. His thumb rolled around your nub, your hips jerking occasionally, while his middle finger worked it's way inside you. A small grunt sounded in your throat, and you held onto Billy's shoulder, leaning your head against the wall. Once his middle finger was in to the knuckle, he pushed in his ring finger and began pumping them in and out of you, curling them.

— Ugh. — you whimpered, your nails digging into his shoulder. Billy started kissing his way around your jaw, neck and chest, occasionally licking your nipple for fun. He added his forefinger after a minute, another moan escaping. You bit your lip, hard, holding in another whimper.

— Why are you being so quiet, princess? It's just us. — he mused, biting at your earlobe.

— I don't wanna boost your ego. — you snickered, yelping when his thumb pressed down on your clit and his fingers dug inside you even more.

— Yeah, well. — he laughed, shaking his head. — You can't hide the sounds you're making down here. — he snickered, slowly pulling his three fingers out of you and bringing them to his mouth. His tongue moved between his fingers, licking your juices and the shower water off of them. You watched, mesmerized.

Once his fingers were cleaned to his liking, he gripped the back of your thighs, having you jump up again. He gave you a nod, questioning if you were ready or not. You nodded yours quickly, having been ready for this for months. Aligning his cock with your entrance, Billy didn't have the ability to ease himself in because of your guys positions. So with one quick thrust, he was inside you, his hand splayed out against the wall and the other gripping your ass.

— Fuck. — you screamed, throwing your head back, crying out when it hit the wall. Billy was big, bigger than his three fingers. Your arms pulled him closer, trying to even out your breathing and relax your muscles around him. Billy didn't move, small moans being breathed into the crook of your neck.

— I'm sorry, doll. — he whispered, knowing it hurt. You didn't have lube or a condom, and not much preparation.

— No, no, don't apologize. — you said quickly, squeezing yourself around him to emphasize. — It's fine. You can.. you can start.

Billy removed his head to look at you, but when you gave him a nod he started moving. He thrusted slowly, not wanting to lose his grip on you or push your body. Both of you were breathing heavily, and you moved your body along his, matching his thrusts with your own.

— God. — he moaned, pulling his cock farther out before slamming back in, continuing the movement over and over again. Your nails scratched their way over his shoulder blades, biceps, back and anywhere they could reach. The pain was decreasing as the thrusting went on, and when Billy moved you slightly to the left, slamming back in, your eyes shot open.

— Holy fuck, right there, Billy! — you shouted out, arching yourself into him.

Billy smirked up at you, licking his bottom lip and doing as you said. He quickened his pace, no longer hearing your hisses of pain, and thrusted into you quickly. The sound of his skin slapping against yours, as well as the sound of your back hitting the wall, echoed throughout the bathroom, overpowering the shower.

— Ugh, god. — Billy grunted, throwing his head back. — I can't hold out much longer, Y/N. — he moaned, looking down at you just as you opened your eyes to look at him.

— I'm close too. — you whimpered, hiking yourself higher up on the wall, screaming out when his cock hit the spot again, but deeper. — Fuck, fuck, fuck. — you moaned, a streamline of curse words leaving your mouth. — Billy, I'm.. — you tried to warn him, but a high pitched moan escaped before you could finish as the heat in the bottom of your stomach exploded. A wave of warmth washed over you, your toes curling and your thighs squeezing around Billy, pulling him closer. You mouth fell open, letting out a small, quiet gasp as you orgasmed.

Billy pulled out quickly, feeling his own orgasm wash over him, and his hot cum sprayed over your stomach and the tops of your thighs. Your head fell to his shoulder limply, your body slipping down the shower wall, as it shook from your orgasm. You could see your thighs wiggling, and Billy gently lowered you to the floor. When the cold shower water hit you, you welcomed it, letting the cum wash off of you.

— Hey. — Billy whispered, his arms wrapping around you from behind. — This isn't a one time thing. I want you to be mine.

— Good. — you grinned, a giddy feeling coming over you, more intense than your orgasm. You turned around to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck. — Let's go take a nap, that project can wait until later.

[glass--beach]

what do you think sixth wave emo will sound like?

gonna be honest i feel like even the definition of fifth wave emo is a little flimsy. it includes a mix of artists that are just continuing emo revival (4th wave) without rly changing it as well as artists who are so far removed from emo that putting them under the umbrella is a little reductive. but emo is just such a polarizing genre that if there is 1% emo in a band's sound they immediately become for emo fans only.

just real quick for any followers who don't know the waves (this is off the top of my head so might not be perfect):

1st wave (late 80s): Washington DC emotive hardcore, not very far removed from post-hardcore at all, just more focused on emotions whereas post hardcore tended (at the time) to be more political. ie rites of spring, moss icon

2nd wave (90s - early 00s): the start of "midwest emo" - develops the sound further through the influence of post-rock among other things, tends to use less distortion & gentler singing. some bands became minor successes through the post-nirvana alternative rock gold rush but many were not appreciated til way after they were active. american football, capn jazz, sunny day real estate, the promise ring, mineral, etc etc etc

3rd wave (00s): what the average person knows emo to be. often known as mall emo. crosses over with pop punk frequently. this wave saw the greatest commercial success due to strong pop songwriting and slick production. spoke to a general malaise among teenagers post 9/11. my chemical romance, AFI, the used, brand new, also includes the whole "scenecore" wave towards the end of the 00s

4th wave (late 00s - mid 10s): the "emo revival". largely a reaction against the commercialization of the genre that occurred in the 3rd wave, and a revival of a more 2nd wave sound. bands in this wave tended to put out one album on a tiny label before fizzling out, and largely found success online. they also all REALLY hated 3rd wave. the world is a beautiful place and i am no longer afraid to die, snowing, the hotelier, algernon cadwallader, modern baseball (honestly i could list 4th wave bands forever it's the wave i'm most familiar with lol)

5th wave (late 10s - 20s): online, postmodern/post-postmodern, lots of influence from genres far removed from the first four waves of emo (jazz, hyperpop, folk, noise), bedroom production, digital sounds, synthesizers, odd instrument choices, autotune, pitch shifted vocals. two of the biggest influences here are Heccra and The Brave Little Abacus (i will go to my deathbed insisting TBLA is NOT an emo band though lmao). the thing is, there are bands lumped into this wave like Home is Where or awakebutstillinbed who generally have a much more 4th wave kinda sound & very few of the traits associated with 5th wave. or Origami Angel & Mom Jeans who remind me more of later 4th wave "weed emo" bands like Jank (fuck that band tho). AND THEN there's also bands here who sound more 3rd wave, like Jhariah. i'd say the bands most emblematic of a uniquely 5th wave sound (aside from the aforementioned TBLA and Heccra) are MEEEEEEEEEEEEE (glass beach), stomach book, lobsterfight, your arms are my cocoon, nouns, weatherday.

tbh the only real common thread with 5th wave is that all of these bands are friends lmao. there are very few bands I listed there that I do not know personally, some are very close friends, and the rest are like, one degree of separation from me. i believe Bea from Home is Where was the one to codify it but critics really latched onto the term because it's every critics dream to be the first to write about a new genre right as it emerges. 5th wave's variety is largely indicative of the breakup of monoculture that's been going on since the dawn of the internet, with this sort of postmodern genre collage aesthetic that has been facilitated by the increased ease of access to ALL styles of music for everyone in the world & micro-categorization of genre on sites like rym for example. i think it's going to take putting this all into historical context to really know what comes next. any new development in emo will inevitably fit under 5th wave's very broad umbrella, and as a result MANY bands in the genre reject the term. hell, the dividing lines between all of the existing waves are extremely arbitrary and there are countless exceptions to this generally accepted categorization going all the way back to the start of emo.

at this point it is genuinely impossible for there to be a 6th wave. i'm sure we'll see some new developments, some albums that shake things up, but it will take literally redefining the genre for there to be a Next Era of Emo.

if i can try to be a little deleuzian on main i predict we will see bands push the genre forward by using the components of the more uniquely 5th wave sound while not overtly referring to fifth wave (or ANY wave) at all. it'll probably take a different setting too, possibly less bedroomy, more live, maybe a more longform classical kind of approach rather than pop structure. small ensemble orchestra + autotuned screaming? tapping guitar over endlessly looping 190BPM 909 beats? otherwise by-the-numbers midwest emo bands with vocaloid singers? rapid oscillation between all of the waves, Naked City style? emo vocals with no instrumental accompaniment whatsoever? screamo jazz? 5th Wave: The Musical? Rites Of Spring meets The Rite Of Spring? fags in skinny jeans burning american flags while Courtesy of The Red White and Blue plays on a boombox? a band that's actually a tech startup that's actually a huge ponzi scheme? Talking Heads reunites but Jerry Harrison only plays in FACGCE now? drum stems from The Black Parade echoing through an abandoned parking garage? another 9/11? Emo bands that don't play music at all and just make out with each other on stage? who fucking knows. all i know is whatever comes next, online music nerds will be crying out "this isn't emo"

sorry for the essay LMAO

[ak-vintage]

Miller Tours | Secret Springs Resort

Prompt: Joel Miller & Speedboat Rides

Created for the Secret Springs event hosted by @secretelephanttattoo

Dividers by the incomparable @saradika-graphics

The first words he says to you are a blunder, and though unintentional, you would be lying if you said they didn’t sting a little.

“Howdy. Welcome in.” His voice is low and warm, friendly but somehow calmer, more subdued than you had come to expect from the little beach town’s many small business proprietors. “You must be my 2:00. Boat tour for two?”

He glances up at you from his post behind a weathered, white-washed counter, the little hut at the edge of the marina looking like something out of time. There’s a wooden sign with peeling paint hanging over the door, “MILLER TOURS” printed across its surface in navy blue lettering, and rather than a credit card reader or a sleek tablet on a swiveled mount, he has an old bronze cash register at one end of the counter. Spread out before him are two binders describing the features of different tour packages, and there’s a corkboard on the far wall featuring a collage of sun-bleached photographs of past adventures, all of which are held in place with shining silver pushpins.

Boat tour for two? It makes sense. That is what your reservation was for. Still, something in your chest seizes at the question, and you offer him a pained smile.

“Uh. Just one, actually,” you say, hoping that will be the end of the discussion. Of course, that is wishful thinking.

Quirking a frown at you, the man behind the counter pulls a clipboard from a drawer and scans it quickly. He says your name like a question, and you nod, lips pressed together in a tight line.

“Okay. So Bryan won’t be joining us today?” he asks. You think you see something like understanding in the tightness around his eyes, the way his prominent brows pick up just a bit in the middle, wrinkling his golden, sun-warmed skin.

“Nope. Just me.” You tug at your coverup, a delicate, crocheted thing you’d bought specifically for this trip because of the little peeks of skin it afforded, letting you show off your new bikini while still having the illusion of some coverage. The person you had bought it for, however, is hundreds of miles away now, admiring someone else’s skin, someone else’s body.

And you are here. Alone.

“I…I hope that’s all right. I’ll still pay the two-person fee, it’s not a problem,” you say after a beat of tense, significant silence.

However, instead of the reluctant acquiescence you’re expecting, the man grants you a soft smile, and he shakes his head, his dark, salt and pepper curls bouncing as he does. “That won’t be necessary, darlin’. Why don’t you let me get locked up here, and we can get you out on the water?”

A wave of relief passes over you at that, and you nod readily. “That sounds good…” You hesitate, unsure of how to address him, but he rescues you quickly from any further social awkwardness.

“Captain Miller,” he says as he rounds the counter. He extends a large, calloused hand in your direction, and you shake it happily. His fingers dwarf yours, but rather than feeling intimidated, instead it just makes you feel safe. Cared for. “But you can just call me Joel.”

You spend the afternoon lounging at the back of Joel’s speedboat, a tidy, well-kept thing that cuts through the water like a knife, showering you with mists of saltwater as he makes a circuit up and down the coast of Secret Springs. He lets you run the boat’s radio, lets you choose the speed, lets you tell him when you would like to stop and take pictures and when you would like to keep going. You quickly take off your coverup to bask in the afternoon sun, soaking in its rays and luxuriating in the ocean breeze, and he almost manages to keep his eyes focused on the ocean. You almost manage to stop yourself from blushing under his gaze.

About an hour in, Joel reaches down into the storage compartment underneath the helm and pulls out a cooler with a chilled bottle of crisp white wine and two glasses. He pours you a generous glass, mumbling something about not knowing much about wine but knowing that this one is usually a crowd-pleaser. You, of course, offer him the other glass, and though he protests that he really shouldn’t, that it’s bad manners to drink on the job, he eventually accepts. You pour him his own splash of wine, and when he asks you what you would like to toast to, you tell him, “New beginnings.”

As the sun begins to lower in the sky, Joel takes you to a secluded cove on the southern end of town. There’s an area there that has been roped off for swimming, and he drops anchor and tells you you’re welcome to take a dip if you’d like before he takes you back to the marina. You slip into the cool water with no further prompting, eager to refresh yourself after a day in the summer sun, and this time, he makes no attempt to hide the way that he watches you as you float leisurely in the shallows.

By the time he is pulling the speedboat back up to the marina, hopping out onto the dock to haul it the rest of the way in with a length of rope twisted around his thick, tanned forearm, you realize you haven’t thought about Bryan once all afternoon.

When you head back into the Miller Tours building to settle up on your bill, you ask Joel for a piece of scrap paper, and he hands you the final, useless length of receipt paper from an old roll he had stashed away behind the counter. You hand him back your payment for the excursion, a generous tip, and your phone number and the name of the hotel you’re staying at scrawled across that length of receipt paper.

“You sure about this, darlin’?” he asks you as you head for the door.

You glance back over your shoulder at him and smile, feeling lighter, happier, freer than you have in months.

“Definitely,” you say, and then you watch as Captain Miller slips the piece of paper into the front pocket of his shirt.

Tapping his hand over that pocket, as though to promise you he will keep it safe, he replies, “Get home safe, sweetheart. I’ll give you a call tomorrow. See if we can’t get that ‘new beginning’ you’re after started off right.”

[telugu-girl-13]

♡ Hasini's 150 Follower Event ♡

THIS EVENT HAS ENDED! THIS WILL PROBABLY BE THE LAST EVENT OF THIS THEME!

Hey, guys! I've been so excited to hold another event, and you helped me get there! I'm officially somewhat famous! And I'm super thankful to every single one of you who has acknowledged my presence in some way. Not just following, but also liking, commenting, reblogging, booping, anything and everything. Every single one of you have a special place in my heart, and I hope you know it! <33

﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

Back with the theme! If you're new here, I'm crossing my fingers that you love it. And if you're one of the OGs, hope you enjoy the experience of this event once again! I'm obsessed with this, so it's making another appearance! Maybe for my next event, I'll have a few new tricks up my sleeve...

This event will be in the standard ask in my inbox format, with only one request per mutual! All of these requests must be sent between 7:30 AM and 9:00 PM Eastern Standard time, so you're not sneaking out during curfew! (You'll understand in a moment, and if you can't coordinate the timings from another part of the world, it's fine!) This post will be pinned on my blog from November 3 to November 10 and no requests will be accepted after that. Here is the link to my introduction post! Most of these are art-related! Hope you enjoy!

*This request might take a day or two during the school week! Hope you have extra drachmas! (I'm just kidding, the only thing you have to pay is your patience and time!)

﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

Hello, new camper! You have followed me and passed Thalia's Pine Tree 🌲. Welcome to Camp Half-Blood! Where would you like to go first?

🏐♡ - The volleyball court! To play here, send a prompt for a tag game in my inbox! Let's try to keep the volleyball up by keeping the tag game going!

🏠♡ - The cabins! To stay here, submit your godly parent and I'll provide some aesthetics that I think would fit your cabin (blog)!

🎨♡ - The arts and crafts building! To hang out here, submit your favorite color(s), hobbies, animals, symbols, and more, and I'll create a collage for you!*

🔥♡ - The amphitheater bonfire! To hang out here, sing a lyric of a song (in text, not actually) and I'll incorporate it in a moodboard!*

⚔️♡ - The arena! To hang out here, send a controversial or unpopular opinion about an appropriate topic! Make sure it isn't triggering or harmful, and is something like a ship or a favorite character! Let's battle it out! Anyone who wants can join the debate!

📚♡ - The library! To hang out here, send a headcannon for a book I've read and I'll comment on it and maybe even draw it!*

🏖️♡ - The fireworks beach! To hang out here, I'll compliment you and tell you why you I think you're amazing! Request this if you feel depressed or just need a friend to comfort you <3

﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

While many of these may sound similar, trust me, each is different. I included some of the most popular options from last time and put a twist on some of them, hopefully I get a variety of responses! Thank you for participating, and even if you don't, thank you for supporting my blog through its journey! Love you xx!

See tags 50 follower event and hasini's 100 follower event for past activities!

[domm1etae]

sent to tempt me - chapter one

chapter one: the first glimpse

chapter summary: Yunho arrives at his new dorm, hoping for peace and quiet, but his expectations are shattered when he meets his unexpected and enigmatic roommate

pairing: yunho x mingi

genre: smut (not yet but there will be eventually), angst, fluff, romance, m/m, non!idol!ateez, sub!yunho, dom!mingi, drama, coming of age, collage, religion

rating: 18+ (for the whole series bc there will be smut eventually) | mdni

word count: 2.2k

warnings under

collage, roommates, sub!yunho, dom!mingi, bad boy mingi and religious church good boy yunho same-sex attraction, m/m, teasing, dark themes, homophobia, self discovery, pet names, strangers to lovers, religion and religious topics, aaaand more will be added soon hehehe

author's note: my first series, yaaaay! I’m so excited about this, and I hope you’ll like it. let me know how you feel about the first chapter in the comments. also, should I make a tag list for this?

Yunho grew up in a house where silence spoke louder than words. Yunho grew up in a house where everything had its place.

Every Sunday morning, he woke up to the scent of his mom’s freshly brewed coffee and the sound of his dad humming hymns in the kitchen. Breakfast was always ready by 8:00 a.m. sharp, the same time they left for church.

His family wasn’t unkind; they loved each other in the way a well-rehearsed choir loves its conductor: faithfully, dutifully, but not too loudly. The Jeongs didn’t argue or slam doors. They lived in neat, quiet harmony, with Bible verses framed on the walls and a family portrait taken at the church picnic hanging above the mantel.

Yunho always knew his role in this symphony of order. He was the son they prayed for, the one who didn’t talk back or skip curfews. At 13, he was the boy who stayed late after services to help clean up, stacking chairs and sweeping floors while other kids hung out in parking lots blasting music. He was the one teachers praised, neighbors admired, and his parents held up as an example, they always smiled proudly, calling him “their angel.”

And Yunho liked being good.

At least, he thought he did. Until the dreams started.

Dreams that left him waking up in a panic, drenched in sweat, begging God for forgiveness before he even got out of bed. Dreams that weren’t about the soft curves of a girl’s body, like he knew they were supposed to be, but about sharp jawlines, strong hands, and broad shoulders.

It wasn’t just the dreams. It was the way he couldn’t stop looking. At first, it was small things—admiring how his classmate’s uniform shirt stretched across his chest during gym class or wondering why he felt so warm when he saw certain smiles. He convinced himself it was normal. Just admiration, nothing more. But it didn’t stay fleeting.

He prayed for hours at night, whispering to God to make it go away. “Please, Lord,” he’d say, clutching the cross on his bedside table until his hands hurt. “Don’t let me feel like this.” But the thoughts didn’t stop.

He never told anyone. Not his friends, not his parents, not even the priest during confession.

He thought about telling Father Lee once. After Sunday Mass, he lingered outside the confessional, hands trembling, heart racing. But when he finally stepped inside, knees pressing into the wooden kneeler, the words froze in his throat.

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned,” he managed, his voice barely audible.

The priest’s calm, steady reply came through the lattice screen. “What troubles you, my child?”

Yunho’s hands gripped the edge of the pew until his knuckles turned white. He wanted to say it. He wanted to confess. But the weight of it, the shame—it was too much.

Instead, he mumbled something about talking back to his parents and skipped dinner that night, too sick with guilt to eat.

Books became his escape.

Yunho discovered literature the way some kids discover a secret hideout: by accident, but it quickly became his sanctuary. He wasn’t one to seek it out; books, like distant cousins, were something that didn’t seem to fit in his world. But on a lazy summer afternoon, when his parents were busy with their own lives, Yunho wandered into his father’s study. The room smelled of old wood and dust, filled with shelves of books that always seemed too formal to touch, too thick to bother with.

It was there, buried under a stack of untouched textbooks, that he found an old copy of The Great Gatsby. The cover was faded, the corners of the pages slightly curled, but something about it called to him. There was no reason for Yunho to pick it up—he wasn’t interested in the world of the Roaring Twenties, the glamor or the excess—but something about the worn edges, the ink fading in places like a secret waiting to be unraveled, made him curious.

He sat down on the living room floor, cradling the book in his hands, the cover smooth under his fingertips. When he opened the first page, it was as if the world had shifted. The words seemed to leap off the page, weaving a narrative that was both foreign and familiar. He got lost in it: the parties, the glamour, the yearning, the tragedy. The way Jay Gatsby’s life felt so full of promise, yet so hollow at the same time.

There was something about the way words could paint entire worlds, how they could make you feel things so vividly that it almost hurt. With every turn of the page, Yunho found himself sinking deeper into Gatsby’s world, a world that was both dazzling and dark, where no one was who they appeared to be. For the first time, Yunho could relate to the idea of masks—of playing a part and feeling alone, no matter how many people surrounded you. It was as if the book had taken something deep inside of him and pulled it into the light.

For Yunho, books weren’t just stories; they were freedom.

They were a bridge to a place where no one judged him, where no one expected him to be perfect. In the pages of The Great Gatsby, there was no family name to live up to, no prayers to recite, no duty to be a certain kind of son. There was just the raw, beautiful act of existing without judgment. The characters, flawed and human, didn’t try to pretend they were anything other than what they were. They loved, they hurt, they sought something more—but they were always, in some way, authentic.

Books gave Yunho a place to escape the life he had to lead—one that demanded perfection, one that demanded silence when all he wanted was to shout. Every character, whether they were noble or tragic, flawed or redeemed, felt real to him in ways his real life didn’t. He could be whoever he wanted to be when he opened a book. He could think things that scared him, feel things that frightened him, all in the comfort of knowing it wasn’t real.

He read everything he could get his hands on—Shakespeare, Frost, Brontë. Wuthering Heights, Jane Eyre, Hamlet—the classics that made him feel like he was standing on the edge of something monumental. He fell in love with the way poetry could turn pain into something beautiful, the way prose could make even the simplest moments feel profound. Each word he read felt like an invitation to a world he was never allowed to explore in real life.

There was power in poetry. The kind of power that made you feel seen even when you weren’t speaking. A line from a poem could echo in his chest like a secret whispered into his ear—how the pain in the words felt like his own pain, and yet it was shared, universal. He began scribbling lines in the margins of his notebooks, quoting his favorite poets, trying to capture something of the way they made him feel. But his words never seemed enough. His words never seemed to touch the depth of the feeling, the longing he couldn’t explain.

In books, there was no shame. No guilt. Just characters and their stories, raw and human. No one to look at him with pity in their eyes, no one to ask questions he couldn’t answer. He was free in a way that no one ever told him he could be.

When the acceptance letter from the University of Seoul arrived, Yunho saw it as a sign.

A fresh start.

A chance to focus on his studies, to leave behind the heavy silence of his house, the suffocating expectations of his family. To be free, not just in his mind but in the world. He dreamed of quiet nights in a tidy dorm room, stacks of books surrounding him, the hum of a desk lamp keeping him company as he read well into the night. He imagined himself walking the leafy campus, the world sprawling before him—endless possibilities, untouched and waiting. He imagined being the kind of student who got lost in lectures, who lost track of time in libraries, who got so caught up in books and ideas that the rest of the world felt far away.

He imagined a life where he didn’t have to hide who he was. Where his thoughts didn’t feel like a burden. He could be a literature major, someone who was known for his intelligence, for his passion for the written word, without anyone ever asking about the things he kept hidden. No one would ever know about the turmoil inside him, the yearning that crept up every time he thought about something or someone in a way that didn’t feel right.

The thought of a fresh start was everything he’d dreamed of. It was the chance to begin again, to bury his fears in books, to embrace his studies without the guilt.

But when he stepped into his new dorm, those dreams started to crack.

The first thing Yunho noticed about the dorm was the smell.

It wasn’t bad—just different. A faint mix of cleaning solution and something else he couldn’t quite place, something organic, maybe even a little musky, like a place that had been lived in. It hit him instantly, a sharp contrast to the scent of the fresh air outside. As he stepped inside, the small living room greeted him with beige walls, mismatched furniture—an old, faded gray couch with a wobbly coffee table in front of it, and a tiny kitchenette tucked into the corner like an afterthought. The kind of space that made you think the people who built it were more concerned with efficiency than comfort.

There were two doors leading to separate bedrooms, just like the housing brochure promised, and a narrow hallway that led to a cramped bathroom. It was basic, functional, nothing fancy.

Yunho let out a small sigh of relief. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough. It was quiet—blissfully, eerily quiet. The kind of quiet his mom had warned him about, the kind he’d been desperate for since they’d first dropped him off at the university.

“Call us when you get there, alright? And eat well! Are you sure you’re not forgetting anything? Don’t forget your vitamins—oh, and make sure you pack extra socks!” His mom’s voice had been a constant hum in the back of his mind the entire journey. She was always so concerned, so fixated on the little things.

His dad, quieter but just as insistent, had kept reminding him to stay focused on his studies and “be a good boy.” It wasn’t that they didn’t trust him, but they’d never really let him out of their sight long enough to be sure he could take care of himself. So, as Yunho unloaded his suitcase into his new dorm room, his parents’ voices still echoed in his head. “Eat well,” “Take care of yourself,” “Stay safe.” They said it as if every part of his life depended on their supervision.

But now, as he stood there alone in his new room, he felt a little freer than he expected. Sure, the place wasn’t what he’d dreamed of, but it was his. No hovering, no expectations. It felt… private. Safe.

He dropped his suitcase by the door and took a moment to look around. For a second, the room felt empty—like it was waiting to be filled with something, or someone. Yunho had imagined this moment a thousand times in his head, but it didn’t match what he had expected. He’d pictured coming here to study, to read in peace, to finally get a break from the pressure of his family and the silent, constant burden of expectations that never seemed to ease. Here, he thought, would be his fresh start.

Then he saw it.

A black leather jacket draped over the couch.

It looked expensive, the kind of thing Yunho had only seen in movies or on mannequins in department stores. The leather was soft and worn, creased in places where it had clearly been lived in. The silver zippers glinted faintly under the fluorescent lights, and as Yunho stepped closer, the scent of cologne hit him—sharp, musky, and a little too out of place in a room this plain.

Yunho frowned. His roommate must have arrived already.

Curious, he stepped closer and reached out, fingers brushing against the cool material. It felt smooth under his touch, almost like the jacket had been designed to be a piece of armor—something protective, something that spoke of confidence and mystery. A strange thought flickered in his mind: Who was this person?

He had barely processed the thought when he heard a voice, smooth and low, slicing through the silence.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have left it there.”

Yunho froze, his breath catching in his throat, as the sound of another voice rippled through him.

[bidonica]

Some artists are taking their art off twitter in protest because of Musk's latest AI scraping announcement, and many are pointing out if your art (and text) is public on the internet it definitely has already been scraped quietly before, while Elno is probably just pushing his own proprietary AI, which... I guess is a silver lining on a cloud of shit.

But it got me thinking of the old adage "when they give you something for free, it means the product is you", and how up until not long ago that meant socmedia platforms would host your content in exchange for information on what you liked, how old you were, your political leanings, your physical and psychological ailments, and so on and so forth, into increasingly murky ethical territory. We've seen what the algorithm has done to push entire demographics of voters towards reactionary politics. BUT, as tenuous as it was, this exchange between the content host and its users still left the latter with agency. You can be influenced, but ultimately you can choose not to buy, you can choose not to click on the ragebait article.

In the system that's shaping up you don't get to have that. Right now it feels like: oh you want to put up a little exhibition in a corner of the town's square? The licence fee is that your paintings are also ours now, and we can cut them up and turn them into a brand new collage. You want to step on a shoebox and give a little speech to whoever wants to listen? We have the right to record you and sample your voice so we can make a new tape where you say things you never really said, but it sounds like you.

I honestly don't know where we go from here; the only solution I can think of is legislation catching up with the technology and putting a cap on it, and/or the rise of a new platform whose selling point is that it's unscrapable (though it would probably amount to it being a gated community).

It's sad though, I started using the internet regularly between the late 90s and the 00s and there was such a sense of it being an infinite sandbox where anyone could build whatever they wanted from scratch, while now we're funneled towards predetermined spaces where whatever form of self expression is going to be monetized by your virtual landlords and worse, regurgitated as something different you have no control over.

[hswriting]

The Moment I Knew - Part 5

[Image alt ID: a collage of four picture on a soft pink background. The first picture is of a black and white eye. Makeup is smeared under it from crying. The second picture is of a locket necklace with a picture of a couple inside. The third picture is of a strapless pink, silk like dress, about mid thigh in length. The final picture is of pink lips with sparkly lip gloss. End Alt ID]

- - -

Masterlist Series Part 4 Part 6

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2.9k words

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Millie and Harry have decided to go on their first date together

Time has never went slower. I have done my work for the week and requested another assignment. I have done my home exercises for the day. I have journaled my heart out about this date. My anxiety and fear. My excitement and joy. Why am I so nervous?

I’ve known Harry for a while now. I’ve never felt the need to be nervous before. But now there are expectations. It’s not just friendship anymore. It’s more than that now, and I’m afraid I’m going to mess it up again.

5:00

5:10

5:14

Time is so slow.

I already took my shower. I’ve pinned my hair up really cute. I’ve got on a small bracelet. I’ve done my makeup light and simple. I put on my short, shiny, pink dress, pantyhose, and my black shoes. I have a clutch that matches my dress. It’s not super warm out. The snow was melting but it got cold again so I throw on a jacket. I sit on the couch and look at my phone.

5:47 pm.

It’s almost time. I walk in front of the mirror one last time to make sure I look okay.

“Find at least one thing Millie.” I tell myself. I scan myself over.

I like the way the gloss I put on my lips makes them shine. I also like the way my eyeliner brings out my eyes.

Knock knock

I feel my heart race at the sound of the door.

“Millie?” I hear echo through the house. It’s Harry.

“Coming!” I yell back. I take a deep breath and step out of my room and see the Christmas lights still hanging in the hallway. It’s after new years. I really should take them down. I continue to walk down the hallway. When I step out, I feel Harry’s eyes glued to me as soon as I’m in view. He looks over me and my outfit.

“You look stunning Millie.” He says and I feel heat creep up my neck and to my cheeks. “Breathtaking.” He says. I look at his outfit and he is wearing a nice pair of black jeans, a band t-shirt, and a leather jacket.

“You look great too Har.” I say. He steps towards me and wraps his arms around me. I smell a cologne on him that I’ve never smelled before, but it’s incredible.

We separate and he takes my hand. I feel a blush creep up to my cheeks. He leads me outside to the car and opens the door for me as he always does. There’s a bunch of purple flowers on the seat, some similar to the ones on my wrist.

“Harry!” I say excitedly. “These are beautiful.”

“I’m glad you like them.” He says. He closes my door and walks around and gets in. He starts driving. We end up in a part of town I haven’t really been to before. We park in the lot of a restaurant. I step out of the car and meet Harry at the front of the car. He takes my hand again and my stomach is filled with butterflies. He walks me to the door and we go in together.

The waitress takes us to our table and I open my menu. I am looking down the list of food items and see the prices and my eyes about fall out of my head. Why is ravioli 26 dollars? Is there gold on it?

“Harry these prices are wild!” I tell him. He shakes his head.

“Don’t worry about it. Get whatever you want, love.”

“No, I am definitely paying for myself for this one.”

“Millie. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t pay for your dinner? I knew what the prices were when I chose this place for our date. It’s okay.” He says as the waitress takes our drink order and brings them back.

“Please H, let me help.”

“Millie. Let me do this for you.” He said. I gave in. I looked down the menu again and choose their broccoli chicken alfredo. Harry chooses something I don’t even know how to pronounce. The waitress walks away and Harry and I exchange a look. I open my clutch and pull out a box for Harry and he chuckles before he does the same.

“Looks like we had the same idea.” I laugh.

“Gift giving is my love language after all.” He replies with a smile. We slide them across the table to each other.

“You first.” I say and he pops the small box open. It’s a small band bracelet with words carved into it. You’re the reason I believe in fate, you’re my paradise. It’s one of his favorite songs. I had it made a while back and it was just going to be one of those random little gifts to give him, but when we planned our date I figured today would be a good day to give it. He immediately puts it around his wrist and he finds it hard to take his eyes off of it.

“I love this.” He says. “You always get the most thoughtful gifts.” I blush again. My face can’t get a break.

I reach to open my box. The box pops open easily and I see a silver locket. I open it up to see our first selfie together on one side, and the letter H carved into the other side. He stands up and comes behind me. He helps me place it around my neck and he closes the clasp. It hangs perfectly on me. He goes back around the table and sits down.

“I know you were upset when you had to get rid of your locket. I don’t even know if you realize how much you still reach for it. So I wanted to get you a locket that doesn’t have any bad memories attached.” He tells me and I feel tears well up in my eyes.

“Thank you Harry. I love it.” I tell him, unable to fathom any other words. My hands immediately cling to it and find comfort in holding it. I do my best to keep the tears in so I don’t ruin my makeup.

I see plates coming towards us, but am taken by surprise at who is holding the plates.

“Rachel? When did you start working here?” I ask her as she sets them down.

“About a week ago. You’d know that if you still bothered to talk to me.” She says half laughing, half serious.

“I’ve had a lot going on.” I defend myself.

“Looks like it.” She says. “You just never text or call me anymore. I thought you would have after the Kellen thing. Looks like you moved on pretty fast.”

“Rachel, that’s enough.” Harry demands her.

“Making your way through our friend circle one guy at a time. I didn’t realize you were like that.” The tears do finally spill from my eyes. I can’t even make any words come out of my mouth.

“Rachel. It’s time for you to leave us alone.” Harry says.

“I have to go back to work anyways.” She says and walks away.

What in the hell just happened?

“I’m so sorry Millie.” Harry says to me.

“I think I’m going to go to the bathroom for a minute. I’ll be back, okay?”

“Okay.” He says. I get up and walk as fast as I can to the bathroom. I finally get in there and look in the mirror. My makeup has started to run from crying. I grab wipes out of my purse and take it off. I put on another light face of makeup and take a good look at myself in the mirror.

I would never just hop around our friend group. That’s not who I am. Surely she was just saying that because she wanted to hurt my feelings.

If that’s really what she thinks of me, I won’t go around them anymore. Just me and Harry if he still wants to stay. Unless now he doesn’t want me. I can’t say I would blame him. Having her act like that would scare me too.

I hear a knock on the door to the bathroom. “Millie.” I hear Harry say on the other side. I take a deep breath and walk out to find him standing there about to knock again. “I was worried. You had been gone a while.”

“I needed to fix my makeup and take a moment to calm down. I’m sorry.” I tell him. I lean into his open hug. His arms wrap around me tightly and I feel so safe.

“Don’t be sorry. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Yeah.” I say.

“Do you want to pack up and go home or do you want to eat?”

“We can eat if you want. I don’t want her to ruin our night.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. It’s okay as long as you don’t mind.”

“Come on then.” He says and lets go of me. His arm lays along my back he gently leads me back to the table. We pick up and start eating. We pay the bill and walk out. Harry opens my door and lets me in. He gets in and starts the car, but we don’t move.

“I know that probably wasn’t the best first date you’ve ever been on, and I’m sorry. We can watch a movie or something tonight if you want to continue the date, or if you want to try again another day we can, love.”

“Can we watch a movie at your house?” I ask. “I want to continue the date, but your fireplace would feel so good right now.”

“I’ve got the heat going, but if you’re still cold you can have my jacket. Yours is so thin.”

“I don’t want you to be cold.” I tell him. He shakes his head and takes his leather jacket off. He helps me put the arms in to put the jacket over the one I have on. He finishes helping me and takes a good look at me. He bites his lip and looks away.

“Does it look stupid?” I ask.

“No. Of course not.”

“What’s that face for then?” I ask. He hesitates for a moment.

“You look really good in my jacket.” He says blushing. I smile at him.

“You can take a picture if you want Har. It might last longer.”

“Very funny.” He says, rolling his eyes.

“I’m serious. I don’t care if you take my picture. Just don’t let me see it.” I tell him.

“If you’re not comfortable seeing it I don’t have to take it.”

“I want you to have it. I just don’t want to see it until I’m feeling a bit better about everything.”

“It’s okay. I won’t take it. I don’t want to do any harm if you’re not doing well.”

“Har, if you don’t take it, I’ll take a selfie for you.”

“A selfie?”

“Yes.”

“Here.” He says. He unlocks his phone and hands it to me. I am a bit confused by this. “Maybe a selfie is a better step. But it’s up to you. Either way you’re going to look amazing.”

I hold up the phone. I put a dog filter on my face and take a selfie for him. I cringe at how I look. I can see the weight I’ve gained recently in my face. I used to not worry about it because Kellen told me it didn’t matter, but since the breakup I have been really conscious about it. I don’t even want to see this picture.

“Can I have one with no filter?” He asks. I hand him his phone.

“You can take it. I don’t want to do another selfie.”

“Okay.” He says. He holds the phone up and I give Harry a big smile. I’m sure he will love it. He snaps the pictures and puts his phone away. “You look great.” He tells me.

“Thanks.” I tell him. He puts the car in drive and we begin the route to his house.

We get inside and he takes time to light the fireplace. He sits in the couch and turns on the tv. I sit beside him as he chooses a movie. I grab a blanket from the back of the couch and cover up.

“Anything you want to watch?” He asks me and I shake my head.

“Whatever you want.” I tell him. He nods and finds something on Disney plus. He presses play and sets the remote down.

“Do you want to cuddle or is that too fast for you?”

“We can cuddle if you want.” I tell him. I am slightly anxious because we have never done anything more than hug. Harry lifts up his arm and lets me lay my head on his chest. He wraps his arm around my shoulders. I can hear his heartbeat. I feel so safe wrapped in his arms. We watch the movie, but I accidentally fall asleep.

- - -

I wake up in a bed I’ve never seen before. The sheets are tan. The pillows match. The blanket is a dark brown. It’s so warm though.

I look around the room and see pictures hanging on the wall. Harry is in almost all of them. Him and a little girl. Him and an older woman, who I can tell by her face, is his mom. One of him on stage. He looks younger. A few of a dog. I didn’t realize he liked pictures so much. I look in the nightstand to find a note.

Millie,

I know it could not have been comfortable to sleep in your dress, but I didn’t want to wake you to change. Feel free to grab something from my closet if you want some clean clothes.

-H

I slept pretty good despite being in my dress, but I don’t know how I feel bout taking his clothes yet. We just started dating yesterday., but I like him, so what should it matter. I’m afraid of moving too fast just because I’m afraid l will do something wrong.

Maybe just his jacket again would be okay since I’ve worn it before.

I find it in the closet and slip it on again and look in the mirror. Find one thing. I look and look but can only find that I like the way his jacket looks on me. I like the way it smells. I like the way it makes me think of Harry.

I step out of Harry’s bedroom and hear music coming from downstairs. I walk quietly down the stairs and realize it’s Harry singing.

You’ll never love yourself half as much as I love you. And you’ll never treat yourself right but darling I want you to. If I let you know I’m here for you. Maybe you’ll love yourself like I love you. Oh and I’ve just let these little things slip out of my mouth cause it’s you…

I step around and into his vision. He stops and greets me.

“Good morning.” He says. “I made coffee for you if you want it. I’m making breakfast.” He slides me a mug of coffee and I take it gratefully.

“Thank you.” I tell him after I take a long first sip. I sit down at his table.

“How many eggs would you like, love?”

“One please. Thank you.”

“Do you want toast?”

“Yes please.” I say and he smiles at me. He quickly makes my plate and serves it to me at the table. He sits down across from me and we begin to eat.

“How did I get to your room?” I ask him before I take a bite.

“I carried you.” He said nonchalantly.

“Up the steps? Harry I’m too heavy for all that.”

“No you’re not. I just wanted you to be comfortable.”

“I would have been fine on the couch. Where did you sleep then?”

“On the couch. I have extra blankets and pillows.”

“Har!”

“It’s fine, love. I don’t mind.” He says, putting a piece of toast into his mouth. There is a small window of silence.

“I have to work today at noon. You’re welcome to stay here, or I can take you home if you want.”

“I’ll go home. I don’t want to intrude on your space while you’re gone.”

“You wouldn’t be intruding.”

“What would I do while you’re gone?”

“Anything you want. Throw a party, make a mess.” He says with a chuckle.

“No way.” I say with a laugh. “I think I’ll just go home.”

“Okay. You can keep the jacket for now too.” He says as we finish our plates and put them in the sink. He gets another jacket and we put on our shoes. Harry holds my hand all the way to the car.

“I can’t wait for all of this snow to be gone. I worry about you slipping again.” He says softly as he opens my door. I climb in and he goes around.

“I’m sorry I make you worry.” I tell him and he gives me a smile.

“You don’t make me worry. I worry because I care about you. I don’t want to see you get hurt.” He says and puts the car into drive.

We pull into my driveway and put the car into park. I start to get out but Harry puts his hand on mine and stops me.

“Can I walk you to your door?” He asks. I nod. We get out and walk together. We stop at my door.

“Text me when you can?” I ask. He nods. He takes my hand and leans towards me. He plants a small kiss on my forehead. A wide smile paints both of our faces. He lets go and gets back in his car. He drives off only once I’ve unlocked the door and gone inside.

- - -

Masterlist Series Part 4 Part 6

[lovejustforaday]

2023 Year End List - #2

Ooh Rap I Ya - George Clanton

Main genres: Baggy, Chillwave

A decent sampling of: Trip Hop, Dream Pop, Synth Pop, Vaporwave, Breakbeat

Okay okay so yeah I'm very late to the whole George Clanton thing. Look you guyz, vaporwave and its adjacent scenes have never really been my cup of tea due to the general over-saturation of super amateur "vibes" artists with no songwriting chops. The gratuitous Japanese has also always reeked of pretentiousness to me. But there's almost always at least one diamond in the rough.

And I know that Clanton is really more regarded as a chillwave artist, and I know that there's a meaningful distinction between these genres, especially since the term 'chillwave' is at least a year or two older. But I guess in my own mind I just kinda put him in with the former, so he wasn't particularly high on my list of things to check out.

That is, until I saw those peculiar genre tags on his latest record and the general praise it got on my favourite insufferable hipster website rateyourmusic.com (sue me bitch). Baggy and chillwave together? Now THAT was something I had to hear.

And it just so happened to turn out that his stuff blew me away completely. Even upon my first listen, this LP had basically already skyrocketed to the number 2 spot on my year end list and managed to hold on for the rest of the year.

Every note off of Ooh Rap I Ya is drenched in a multicoloured neon slush that tastes like pure fifth gen console nostalgia (yes that's the only thing I can recall about the 90s tyvm). A portal to a dimension floating in a solution of sheer serotonin, with groovy baggy rhythms and gooey, acid-y synths. Layers upon layers of unabashed awesomeness condensed into thirty eight minutes that feel like hours of non-stop raving that still somehow ends all too soon.

There's been way more than enough homages in the 21st century paying tribute to 80s synth pop and its related genres. I'm glad that someone out there finally decided that the early 90s British baggy scene and its related "Madchester" club culture deserved a work of similar celebratory fondness. Not that I'm honestly too well-versed in it myself, though hearing this certainly makes me feel like taking that genre deep dive next year.

But like all good throwback revivalism, this record doesn't just rehash the era that it's paying tribute to. There's a lot of contemporary production techniques and ideas being applied here, and it's all filtered through a very post-internet 2.0 chillwave online aesthetics lens. And while sonically it feels incredibly optimistic, the lyrics have definitely been injected with some of the generational existentialism of its time.

Moreover, this basically just kicks ass more than 98% of anything else released this year. The songwriting is tight, the riffs are infectious to no end, the sound design is simply godlike, and Clanton's trippy pretty boy vocal styling blends seamlessly into this genre. It's just some good fucking timeless music that happens to be heavily influenced by a very time-and-place sound.

"Justify Your Life" has a very particular vibe, as though it was written from that headspace you get when it's 2:00 am and you should be tired, but instead your mind is hyper awake and you're up just kinda reflecting on everything over the last six months. The whole thing rides on the wave of a breezy looped guitar feedback sample, taking little plunges into deep plasmatic psychedelics during the chorus. Very chill and daydreamy, but also a little agitated and melancholy.

The torrential, churning feel-good chaos of "Punching Down" is almost enough to make me feel sick. So sugary and whimsical, you'd be totally forgiven if you missed George's lyrics dissing on the subject of the song, who might just probably be himself. The combination of rubbery arcade synths and a blown out drum machine pattern absolutely buries this song in a totally orgasmic collage. Someone shook the soda can and let it spray all over the damn place. Makes my brain go all fuzzy.

"I Been Young" is a quarter life crisis anthem that's musically somewhere halfway between INXS and Chapterhouse. Very boy band meets neo-psychedelia. The lyrics are poignant in a way I think all of us are destined to feel at some point. But there's also a kind of bittersweet, triumphant silver lining at play here, as in "yeah, life is pretty fucked, but look how far you've come!". Clanton does the great big beautiful chorus thing in a way that I've heard very few artists really manage to pull off so cool and effortlessly. Those colossal piano chords are purely divine. No other song this year comes quite so close to the sentimental, end-credits energy that this song manages to emanate from its very core. Insanely potent, and plainly one of the greatest songs of the decade so far.

"You Hold The Key And I Found It" has me swimming downwards in slow motion. This is for the point of the night at the rave for when you're beyond blasted, and you're kind of just absorbing your surroundings, with every second being its own little eternity. More vaporwave than anything else off the record, but this is a brilliant example of the genre's potential when the songs have the right amount of pulse to them.

"Ooh Rap I Ya" glows like little flourescent fishies swimming in an aquarium. Little bit of a new jack swing meets trip hop vibe on the beat here which makes it extra comfy and danceable. Those "ooh rap I ya"s during the bridge that give the album its title are just so sexy and snappy; I believe I've caught myself singing it at random at least a dozen times in the last month alone.

The sluggish closer "For You, I Will" is insane. This. Song. Is. Massive. I can't get over how utterly consuming it sounds, like impenetrable walls being erected towards the sky that obscure the nature of reality. This one simply must be heard on headphones to get the full experience. George Clanton employed the help of Hatchie 💖 to do the backing vocals on this, which I personally thought was a really cute addition seeing as how her 2022 record Giving The World Away was basically the only other prominent LP of the last few years (or decades, more likely) to pay a lot of homage to the 90s baggy sound.

For as consistently brilliant as the album sounds to my ears, I do admit I have one gripe with this record that I just couldn't look past to give it a 10.

The gripe is that "F.U.M.L." to me is just a weaker, simpler take on "I Been Young". I guess the whole ultra-teenage upbeat pop punk "let's chant gleefully about being edgy and depressed" has never really been my thing either (Looking at you Wheatus, grrrrr), no matter how many layers of nostalgia or even irony you try to bury it under. Maybe an uncharitable take, it's still a pretty decent song and production-wise it's excellent, but I have basically no fondness for it when compared to anything else on the LP.

But anyhow, shut the fuck up already Bradley cuz this record is goddamn amazing. Ooh Rap I Ya has very quickly become one of my favourites of the decade - heavily grounded in the psychedelic baggy sounds it derives from, while managing to be so incredibly forward thinking in its maximalist production and songwriting. George Clanton just landed himself at the top of my list of artists to be on the look out for new releases in the next few coming years.

9/10

Highlights: "I Been Young", "Punching Down", "For You, I Will", "You Hold The Key And I Found It", "Ooh Rap I Ya", "Justify Your Life", "Everything I Want"

[kittybonbon123]

Welcome home redemption au

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You know that felling when your life falls apart and once it seems like your life is being put back together into pieces it falls apart all over again? Well that how Wally’s life was. they thought that they were doing something good. Something that helped everyone and kept them safe from the truth…..

Büt thåt wáś æ łįę.

Wally just wanted to go to sleep and sleep through her curse maybe get this right, maybe actually maybe do something,but nope here he was 2:00 am holding up a dead mutilated sally over his shoulder running through the woods in his partly torn night gown. Holding back tears until she was in the middle of a large circular grassland field. Placing sally down in the middle of the large field, Wally finally started to sob as they started to draw around sally with a piece of chalk.

“*sniff* I’m so- so sorry- sally.. *sob* *hic* don’t worry about anything…. *sniff* I’ll- *hic* *sob* *sob* I’ll f-fix everything… I promise..”

As he was finishing drawing the clock/leaf like glyph on the grass, he give one final look toward Sally’s body getting down on both knees. “Don’t worry Sally *sniff* ill get this right.” Hands trembling he sliced his already Healy scarred right hand open enough to draw blood. Dripping the blood on Sally’s forehead and chanting the three words.

“Reverśé,rëvìve âñd førget..”

In a bright flash of blinding blue/white and red light the giant satanic glyph began to shot a beam upward to the sky as Sally’s body began to rise. Wally could do nothing but watch as his former friend body was lifted at lest 14 ft into the air.

“Everything will be ok sally I promise.”

But suddenly an large collage of colors came raining down from the sky surrounding Wally in its light. Wally looked up to see about ten people on staffs.

“Wally darling stop this right now!! You have taken this to far!”

“W- wha-what is this?! Why is this happening?! Please please don’t tell me it’s them…!”

For a moment the beam of light was visible to suddenly disappear and bursting into blinding bright lights and exploding. Wally who had reacted to late was caught in the blast letting out a blood curdling scream as it slowly started to fade out.

It had only had been a few seconds before the other neighbors had came running to the sound still in there pj’s.

“What on earth is going on he-!”

Before Eddie could finish his sentence the sight of the complete calamity of the once great and mighty grassland had most of the grass burned to a crisp and the once soft to the touch trees felt like hot iron. The smell of ash and sulfur had Eddie cutting off his sentence.

“Wha- what of earth?!? What happened hear?! Where’s wally!?”

Frank yelled. Looking around at the charred wreckage of the forest.

“We’re trying to save you…”

Said a female voice. A pale tall woman with long maroon with lime green eyes stepped forward to face the neighbors.

Behind her were at least four girls and five boys.

For the 2d girl she had black curly hair with red eye and tan brown skin holding a golden scythe.

For the 3th and 4th both of them had blonde curly hair and light blue eyes with dark brown skin, they seemed to be twins.

The three boys had red hair and different colored streaks and gold eyes with light tan skin.

Another had dark green hair and dark pink eyes with light brown skin.

the last one had dark blue hair with dark purple eyes with black replacing the outer white of the eyeballs.

“Who are you?” Julie asked.

“I think it better if we explained this at howdy’s shop”

(srry if this feels rushed.)

[sweetdreamsjeff]

John Zorn's "COBRA" live at The Knitting Factory

Cobra was recorded at the Knitting Factory, NYC, throughout 1992. John Zorn acted as conducter for the monthly impromptu jams, which were recorded and are dated according to month.

Jeff Buckley participated in April's recordings. Buckley contributed voice (tenor) to track 4, "Taipan," and track 5, "D. Popylepis."

@crudecube

2 years ago (edited)

Setlist for anyone trying to find a particular artist from the Knit.

0:00 - "Hemachatus Haemachatus" (Track 1)

2:12 - "Naja Naja Atra" (Track 2)

5:52 - "Many-Banded Krait" (Track 3)

16:19 - "Taipan" (Track 4)

17:49 - "D. Popylepis" (Track 5)

18:29 - "Lampropeltis Doliata Syspila" (Track 6)

21:01 - "Boomslang" (Track 7)

32:08 - "Maticora Intestinalis" (Track 8)

38:21 - "Acanthopis Antarcticus" (Track 9)

42:21 - "Hydrophiidae" (Track 10) > (Abrupt cutoff @ 44:51) ================[CUTOFF]=================

I may have got some wrong since they're so difficult to distinguish, with the ambient noise and faded transitions and all. If my approximations are correct, that leaves 4 tracks missing, which would get it to about an hour in length.

How do you play John Zorn's COBRA

The BBC documentary series On the Edge: Improvisation in Music (1992) includes a short segment of Zorn explaining and conducting two versions of Cobra.[8] His goal with Cobra, Zorn said, was to "harness" the creative developments in improvisation and extended techniques by New York City's downtown scene musicians in a semi-structured way, but "without hindering" their performances; he was interested in telling the musicians when to play, and with whom, but without telling them what to play. Plus-Minus (1963, 1974) by German composer Karlheinz Stockhausen was a key inspiration for Zorn, inspiring him to develop methods play with or against each other and in response to his cues but without dictating specific notes, sounds, or other formal structures. Though Cobra can be performed by any number of musicians plus a prompter who handles the cards, Zorn has stated that at least ten musicians are ideal, with care taken in selecting the musicians based on their improvisational skills and personalities.[7]

Release Date 1992

Duration 01:00:50

Recording Date 1992

Recording Location Knitting Factory

Jeff Buckley Guest Artist, Tenor (Vocal)

ALL MUSIC REVIEW

Live at the Knitting Factory Review by Scott Yanow

Calling this set of performances bizarre would be an understatement. John Zorn inspired (through obscure game playing that is not explained anywhere on this CD) these 14 eccentric "tributes" to different types of cobras. Because many of the performances utilize samplers and voices (in addition to conventional instruments and miscellaneous devices), the wide range of sounds attained from the 87 musicians (heard in different combinations) is impressive, if often quite unlistenable, ranging from humorous interludes to very obnoxious noise. For a few examples, "Cobra 4" has a man screaming over and over again, "Cobra 2" features a sound collage with a male opera singer repeating the same four notes continuously, and "Cobra 5" has, among its many vocal noises, a man imitating a dog barking. There are some colorful segments, but in general, these self-indulgent performances would be much more interesting to see in person than to hear on record. Taken purely as a listening experience, one is surprised that this material has even been released.

JOHN ZORN'S COBRA LIVE AT THE KNITTING FACTORY

Knitting Factory Works release date: 1995

CD#: KFW 124

Cobra was recorded at the Knitting Factory, NYC, throughout 1992. John Zorn acted as conducter for the monthly impromptu jams, which were recorded and are dated according to month. Jeff Buckley participated in April's recordings. Buckley contributed voice (tenor) to track 4, "Taipan," and track 5, "D. Popylepis." Credits for both track 4 & track 5: Jeff Buckley (voice, tenor) M. Doughty (voice, tenor) Judy Dunaway (voice, mezzo-soprano) Mark Ettinger (voice, tenor) Gisburg (voice, soprano) Cassie Hoffman (voice, soprano) Nina Mankin (voice, mezzo-soprano) Chris Nelson (voice, baritone) Juliet Palmer (voice, alto) Wilbur Pauley (voice, bass) Rick Porterfield (voice, baritone) Eric Qin (voice, baritone)

[itzynabi]

produce 48 episode 7

word count: 1.2k

warnings: none that i can think of

an: the photos aren't mine but the collage is. words in italics are the confessional, words in bold are english, words in bold and italics are japanese

eve's masterlist

Bora called the Into The New World team onto the stage. The girls introduced themselves to the audience.

“Let’s see the performance of the trainees who chose Into The New World by Girls’ Generation,” Bora said. “It’s show time.”

The Into The New World team sat down to discuss the song. Chaewon volunteered to be the leader, everyone agreeing with that.

“Now the centre,” Chaewon began. “Let’s select the centre because it’s very important. Who wants to be the centre?”

Eve, Yunjin and Nako raised their hands.

“Since the centre is the main vocal, how about you sing the high note part?” Chaewon suggested.

Eve nodded. “Okay.”

“Last time I didn’t try out for the centre position, but this time I want to stand out,” Eve said. “I’ve always been complimented for my singing, so I’m very confident that I can get the centre position.”

The girls sang the part one by one before lowering their heads so the rest of the team could vote.

“The centre is — according to the vote — Nabi unnie,” Chaewon announced.

“Thank you.” Eve bowed to the members. “I’ll do my best.”

As the team went over the song, Yunjin looked upset. She finally spoke up, “I really want to show you my voice. This may be my last chance, so can I try for the centre again?”

Eve nodded slowly as she fully processed what Yunjin was asking.

“We should ask Nabi unnie,” Chaewon said, causing everyone to look at Eve.

“Um… We can vote again,” she said, tucking her hair behind her ear. Her eyes flickered between Yunjin and the sheet music.

“Really?” Yunjin gasped. “Thank you, unnie.”

“I understood why Yunjin asked to try again, but it still surprised me,” Eve admitted. “This is a survival show and we need to survive to make our debut, so I’m not going to go easy on her just because I understand where she’s coming from.”

Eve flashed her a strained smile as Chaewon spoke up, “Okay, we’re going to vote again, but this is the last time. No more voting after this.”

The two girls nodded as they got ready to sing. They sang the high note part before lowering their heads so that their members could vote again.

“Okay, we’re done voting,” Chaewon announced, prompting the two girls to raise their heads. “The final centre is… Nabi unnie.”

Yunjin nodded as she clapped. “Congratulations.”

“I’m sorry,” Eve apologised, feeling bad for Yunjin.

“No, it’s okay. It’s okay.”

“Let’s see Into The New World by Girls’ Generation,” Soyou said as the girls walked up to the centre of the room. “Let’s sing one line each.”

“Yes,” the girls agreed.

“I’m the main vocal,” Eve started, “so I have to make the least mistakes in my team. I hope to give a good performance, even if it’s just a practice, and I hope the trainers compliment all of us.” She smiled at the camera.

Eve sang her part, receiving praise from the trainers. They moved on to reviewing the other members singing.

“Nabi, you look so tired,” Hoongki said at the end of their review time. “Have some energy!” He cheered.

Eve blinked rapidly, looking visibly confused, before waving her fists. “Woohoo!” She weakly exclaimed, causing Hoongki and a few of the trainees to laugh.

“Everyone here has decent vocal support and good to– Did you just say ‘Woohoo?’” Soyou cut herself off, looking at Eve.

Eve’s shoulders shook as she softly laughed. “I didn’t know how to be energetic while standing still. Trainee Hoongki didn’t specify what he wanted me to do.”

“She really looked like she was panicking,” Cheetah said as she chuckled. “She didn’t know what to do.”

Soyou shook her head as she tried to stop laughing. “Anyway, Chaewonie should try and add emotion to her singing so that she doesn’t sound so sad,” she summarised. “But other than that, you guys are doing really well.”

#performance!!

[00:16 - 00:25]

전해 주고 싶어 슬픈 시간이

다 흩어진 후에야 들리지만

[01:03 - 01:13] w/ all

널 이 느낌 이대로

그려 왔던 헤매임의 끝

[01:19 - 01:27] w/ chaewon

슬픔 이젠 안녕

[01:39 - 01:53]

이 순간 따스하게 감겨 오네

모든 나의 떨림 전할래

[02:02 - 02:11]

사랑해, oh

[02:24 - 02:30]

la la la la la

[02:38 - 02:49]

함께하는 거야

다시 만난 우리의

“Nabi is a very powerful singer,” Yoonjung commented as the trainers watched the performance.

Youngjun nodded. “It seems so easy for her to do the high note.”

Honggi chuckled. “The dance trainers are complimenting a vocalist.”

“Shush,” May J Lee said, playfully rolling her eyes.

The girls walked into the room with the results for their performance.

“I hate this place,” Eve complained, sitting down.

“Me too,” Yunjin agreed.

“I’m so nervous,” Moe said.

“Try to calm down.” Chaewon placed her hand on Moe’s shoulder.

“Try doing breathing exercises,” Erii comforted. “Like thi–” she was interrupted by her teammates screaming because the screen started counting down.

The members’ rankings were revealed one by one until only Eve and Chaewon’s rankins remained.

“I’m really nervous, but I want to come in first,” Eve said. “As the centre, I felt that I should come in first.”

Eve was revealed to be in first place, causing the girl to exhale in relief.

“You’re first!” Nako cheered.

“Congratulations, unnie,” Chaewon said.

“Thank you.” Eve bowed. “I seriously wouldn’t have been able to do this without you guys. I love you.” She made a heart over her head.

“We love you too,” Erii responded.

All of the trainees gathered in the hall at the end of the day to view the vote results.

“First,” Bora started, “we’ll reveal the grades of the six trainees who picked Into The New World. Please reveal it now.”

The votes for the trainees were revealed, showing that Eve was in first place with 602 votes. All the trainees gasped at her position.

“Kim Nabi from JYP Entertainment, who earned 602 on-sit votes, is the first place for now. Since she came first in her group, she secured 5 000 benefits.”

More groups’ votes were revealed, Eve remaining in first place until there was one group left to announce.

“Kim Nabi from JYP Entertainment, what do you think?” Bora asked. “Will your place be changed or not?”

Eve hummed in thought. “As much as I would like to stay in first place, I think I won’t be able to. Haeyoon unnie did really good, so I think a lot of people voted for her.”

“Who will take a total of 105 000 benefit votes? Please reveal it now.”

“I felt very stressed and I just kept staring at my name, thinking ‘Don’t change the rank. Don’t change the rank.’” Eve laughed. “It was so stressful.”

Eve was revealed to still be in first place, causing the younger girl’s jaw to drop in shock. Her teammates hugged her in excitement.

“The first place for Vocal and Rap position earned 602 on-site votes,” Bora announced. “The first place is Kim Nabi from JYP Entertainment. She earned total benefit points of 105 000 votes. How do you feel?”

“I feel… I don’t know, actually,” Eve admitted. “Being in first place feels surreal, but I feel apologetic to Haeyoon unnie because she did really well.”

outfit

tagging: @mystic-luv // @ateezivy // @ateezjuliet // @cafemilk-tea

©️ kim nabi

[nnjzz]

SECLUDED BRONTE + RYOJI IKEA + LA SPHYNGE

SECLUDED BRONTE uk RYOJI IKEA fr / jp / swe LA SPHYNGE / fr Le Petit Café 14 bd de Strasbourg 75010 M° Strasbourg St-Denis / Château d'Eau... EARLY SHOW !! 19:30 portes 20:00 aktion 22:12 fin P.A.F.  6€ SECLUDED BRONTE uk  "  ... trans-acoustic miniature lodge from London that propagates  Music Theatre from Hell. The trio - the infamous Bohman Brothers and radiologic composer Richard Thomas - revel in Psychedelic No Wave Go Go OuLiPo Disco Lipogrammatic Fantasy Rhythm and Poetry ( Felix Kubin ) Entre Ivor Cutler, Eugene Chadbourne, The Shadow Ring, mon cul sur la commode, ta mère devant la piscine,The Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band, The Temperance Seven, Fluxus, le GRM ( Parallèle - what else ), Lol Coxhill, ceci, voire cela & what have you .  Une fois n'est pas coutume * : il y aura de la CHANSON ( sic ) mais surtout PAS QUE. Formé il y a une bonne vingtaine d'années, il s'agit d'un super ( super ) groupe, " minimaliste et brutaliste " qui opère en secrétant des structures hybrides, sous forme des pop-songs parfois,lorgnant vers la tradition du music-hall bien british mais contaminées par une certaine forme d'entropie galopante (ou :  bien discrète), brassant ( et bruissant ) large à l'aide d'objets amplifiés, guitare, piano, limericks, monologues impromptus, gags, chorégraphies, et ... autres formes de procès ( ou processus). " ( toujours à ) creuser un sillon idiosyncrasique au cœur de ce que l’on pourrait appeler l’art-music.Selon leurs propres dires, ils ne sont pas tant un rayon dans un magasin de disques que le magasin de disques lui-même. Drôle de record shop où l’on retrouverait dans le même bac : du Rock ‘n’ Roll, du bric-à-brac, des sons de grenouille taureau, de la noise abstraite, du hardcore, de la musique concrète, des bandes originales de films, de la poésie, des chansons et mêmes des sketchs ! Ne pas s’y tromper : Secluded Bronte improvise rarement, mais leurs compositions se construisent sur les débordements incessants.Ils adoptent principalement une approche conceptuelle de la musique. " ( Instants Ch. )   Les frères Bohman opèrent dans les marges de l’underground londonien depuis des décennies.Ensemble ou séparément, dans Morphogenesis, The Bohman Brothers, The London Improvisers Orchestra... .. Il leur arrive de collaborer fréquemment avec le cinéaste Peter Strickland - il a publié un 7" d'eux sur son label Peripheral Conserve et ils incarnent le temps d'un caméo des bruiteurs de cinéma dans son BERBERIAN SOUND STUDIO. Richard Thomas est multi-instrumentiste, inclassable, écrivain, comédien... The Bohman Brothers are known for their unique live performances mixing theatre, speech and sounds made from a Heath-Robinson-style array of found objects connected to microphones and laptops.” “It’s hard to describe the raw, explosive audio art they perpetrate. Everyday objects and sounds are worked on until they become saturated with lurid suggestion, resulting in a bizarre, hysterical immediacy … in the traditions of the Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band, the Bohman Brothers kitchen-sink realism laughs at the grand claims of lofty art. They will show you fear in a sponge from a drainer.” (Ben Watson in The Wire).

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7c6vahmDcy8

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IRaf9rhmybw

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_zpg5E-72Gc

https://soundcloud.com/secluded-bronte

https://thebohmanbrothers.bandcamp.com/

https://fforddallan.bandcamp.com/music

https://fortevilfruit.bandcamp.com/album/in-their-70s

https://www.richardthomascreative.com/

RYOJI IKEA fr / jp / swe " Armé d'un ordinateur portable, d'une poignée de patches bricolés avec MAX/MSP et d'une collection de samples piochés chez Olivier Messiaen, Eric Dolphy ou Les Nuls, Ryoji Ikea s'évertue depuis 2019 à réaliser une synhtèse de l'esthétique Mego ( " de la grande époque " ) et du plunderphonic éhonté par des collages publiés sporadiquement au plus grand étonnement de Web surfers ayant fait une faute de frappe dans la barre de recherche de leur navigateur. " https://ryojiikea.bandcamp.com/ LA SPHYNGE / fr / jp New band in town. Juliette Bineau ( Minitel... ) & Saada Abe ( They Lived, entre autres... ). AVANT-PREMIERE MONDIALE. Pas de lien, pas de problème. Expect the unexpected. Fly - Jo L'Indien

[joemuggs]

Heavy footsteps in your attic means a spectre telepathic

Been thinking a lot about hauntological things lately, especially vis-a-vis 90s electronic music due to this compilation I reviewed. And I also did a little essay for State51's Greedmag, about the Ghost Box reissues and what it all means. The mag is sold out, so reposting the text here.

👇🏻👇🏻👇🏻👇🏻👇🏻

When the Ghost Box label arrived it seemed, appropriately enough, like an apparition. Springing out of nowhere with its perfectly realised audio, visual and phrase making aesthetic, it was an uncanny (or unheimlich as its fans loved to say) weird and wobbly echo of the British past. It melted together drizzle on the downs with Pelican books, municipal library leaflets, Ceefax, public information films, folk horror, the Radiophonic Workshop, local news segments about mummers and morrismen, trippy bits of the avant garde that got slotted into odd cracks in TV programming: things which in the mid 00s seemed so very far away in a distant, misty past. These references came, after all, from a time before websites, before rave and jungle, before lads’ mags and EasyJet: from The Old Days. 

It's funny, then, listening to those first few Ghost Box releases, when they’re ticking towards two decades old themselves: steadily approaching being as old now as some of their references were when they were made. First up, very pleasingly, they still sound deeply weird. The gently disturbing folk melodies played on rudimentary retro synthesisers on Belbury Poly’s first EP and album, and the tiny disjointed collages of half-glimpsed children’s TV scenes, hippie films and rituals on The Focus Group’s Sketches and Spells retain all their power to open up little portals to parts of your mind you didn’t even know existed, to pasts you’re not sure whether you ever experienced or not. Second, and perhaps even stranger, they sound less archaic and perhaps less kitsch than when they first emerged.

There are reasons for this. First of all, it’s worth noting that, although the way it turned up fully formed with artwork, music and website all as one gesamtkunstwerk could make it seem so, Ghost Box didn’t materialise out of a vacuum. Aside from obvious contemporary allies like Broadcast and Trunk Records, the sense of a historically deep British folklore blurring into the eeriness of pre-digital-era pop culture was humming in the background already. Julian Cope’s The Modern Antiquarian had come out in 1998, its pages laid out and mock-faded to look like a 60s/70s guidebook, mysticism and mischief interwoven throughout it. Coil’s turn of the millennium output too – notably the Musick to Play in the Dark series – brought together English pastoralism, dark futurism, deep-dive psychedelia, old synthesisers and a commitment to being deeply disconcerting.

Musically you could hear precursors to Ghost Box in 90s electronica outliers like Plaid and Ultramarine, and in oddball retro ephemera collagists like Solex, Tipsy and People Like Us. And on the fringes of folktronica in the early 00s, acts like Tunng, Colleen and Neotropic were likewise using technology to open up cracks that let stranger parts of the past leak out. But looking back, now that all of this stuff is the past, maybe it’s a little bit less defined by its source material than we thought at the time. Maybe this wasn’t just about accosting the past in its weirdness and absurdity, but filtering, preserving and channelling it forwards, making sure that the chosen parts continued haunting the future?

Remember, this was a time of a very dramatic material shifting in relationship to the past. From 1999 Napster – quickly followed by AudioGalaxy, LimeWire and the rest – presented the opportunity to access a vast swather of recorded music, and what you couldn’t find there you could increasingly on specialist blogs. At the start of 2005, just before these first Ghost Box releases, the launch of YouTube marked the first creak in the opening of the floodgates for video too. Even though internet was still creaky by today’s standars, you could still discover an obscure artist and have their entire discography within hours. 

All of this led to bafflement, derangement, even anxiety. Received wisdom in mainstream – and even much alternative – culture media was that this glutting would lead to a homogenisation or levelling of culture. Everything being available all at once meant there was no longer a clear distinction between populist and underground, new niche aesthetics would not be able to develop before they were assimilated, it was, perhaps, a cultural End of History. And in a sense this was true. Certainly, to the horror of inky press commentators who’d earned well from the certainties of the post-1950s definitions of youth culture and subculture, there was no “new rock’n’roll”. There was no new punk, no new acid house, no single sound that rewrote the rulebook. 

Of course, change hadn’t come to a halt. The future was just increasingly, in William Gibson’s unforgettable phrase “unevenly distributed”. Cultural evolution was no longer defined by single radical paradigm shifts in a single, central pop culture, but rather moving forwards in syntagmatic shifts: the piecing together of what would become new traditions. This is the reason young people today talk in terms not of genres or scenes, but “aesthetics”. And this is where we come back to our folktronicists and hauntologists: in this everything-all-at-once deluge we needed people to coalesce aesthetics that we could cling on to. 

When Belbury Poly mapped harpsichords onto analogue bass, or made audio allusions to Delia Derbyshire and John Baker, they were reinforcing connections, between fey psyche pop, cartoons, dramas, leaflets, animated geometry from 5am Open University broadcasts, in the way that synapses are strengthened during dreaming. The same when The Focus Group created micro fragments that were Polish Jazz, Italian horror, Dr Who and J Dilla all at once: this was creating a grammar of weirdness, a very specific binding together of sound, image and idea that could withstand the surge of undifferentiated information swirling around it in the outside world. These records didn’t just create sounds that still sound good now, they didn’t just set a grammar of peculiarity in motion that echoes through today via all kinds of odd internet moments and disparate creations from Scarfolk to chillwave. They also gave us a toolkit: a post-postmodern set of methods for coherently blending together the our hyperspecific special interests into new essences and letting them leak forward into the future, unleashing brand new hauntings. 

[pbandjesse]

It was a really rainy day today. And I felt pretty swollen. I don't know what's up. I need to look at my diet a little because I think I'm eating something that's making me not feel great. Or not eating something. I am looking forward to spring when more fruits are available (and not tasteless like the ones at the store right now). At least for now I have frozen fruit.

I want to go back and tell you all about last night. After I did my clothes last night I started having a couple more people come back and then Angie told me that there was some confusion about when I was supposed to leave and when the museum was supposed to be open for the guests to look around because they had made thier on scavenger hunt. So I said I would stay an extra hour and honestly it was the best time.

Everyone was running around and people were asking me questions. I wouldn't give anyone answers but I would point them in the right way. Because some of the questions were really tough. They had to look on little teeny tiny signs. And I had to make some educated guesses about where stuff was to have I didn't necessarily know. But I was having a blast. And there was a prize at the end. So I was very excited for the four people I helped win. And I was having a great time talking to a couple of the caters. And I ended up becoming Instagram mutuals with this lovely old man who does beautiful collage work. And it was just wonderful.

And then at 9:00 Angie told me to go home. So I started leaving and I got about halfway to the house when James called me and they sounded really panicked. They told me Angie just called them and told me I have to come back to the museum right away. And I was very scared so I had to quickly turn around on MLK and get back there. And I get back there and she tells me to come inside because apparently the guy who put the whole party together wanted to give us tits and it was a lot. It gave me $150 day! And Angie too! And then I ran into a couple of people I helped win the scavenger hunt and they want $1,000 a piece! Why does Johns Hopkins have more money than God!! It was awesome. There were high fives all around.

And I was in very high spirits when I left. I did stop and say thank you to the man that gave us the tips. And invited them to come back if you do when someone is very generous. And then I went home.

When I got back here I got to tell James all about my night and I was just in such a good mood. I just had the best time even besides the tip money. I was just really in my element that was really nice.

But it was still time to wind down and so I washed my hair and did some stuff to get ready for today and then we went to sleep.

Okay except sleepy kept getting all of my face and sticking his whole nose inside my nostril. He wouldn't stop doing it! It was awful it was wet little nose. But I still slept okay besides that nonsense.

When I woke up for real it was very gray outside and damp. I was really pleased though because I remembered I have a rude long sleeve shirt that was almost an exact match for the skirt I got yesterday. So all know I really did get my to be set that I wanted. And I loved my outfit today. I wore my hoops that I were at the wedding. At my wedding. At our wedding. And I felt so pretty. James said that I was stunning.

I did not stop for breakfast. And honestly it's probably a mistake because then I didn't read my lunch and by my last program I was a little woozy. I had one of the protein shakes with me but that's not a meal. And I just need to make sure we have stuff that I can make quickly in the house for breakfast. We were doing good for a little while there but then we did not replace the bagels this week. That's okay.

Honestly off today was great. I can't read first and then I got to watch a program I've never seen before and then I got to lead balls and track.

If these kids were so good. Like so good. They got there a little bit early but John, who was leading the cannery, talk to them at the window one. When they first got there I helped bring their giant box of water bottles in with Jessica and it really hurt my fingers. But it was okay. And once they got into the program I didn't even know they were there because they were so quiet. Which is super unusual for a 32 second graders. They ended up being so sweet. And while we had a lot of trouble with the printing presses overall we did pretty good. Though some of them were very crooked. I think they still had a lot of fun. I had a lot of fun.

And my store was like really excellent. I changed it up a little bit and it led to some more laughs and some more understanding of choices and how people had to make their choices. I also convinced them that coal would be five tokens normally But I was having a special sale where it was only one token and a freaked out. It was so funny. They're all trying to buy the coal.

They had lunch next and I started working on my embroidery for today and I love lollipop. But I started working on the next ones and they're all right. I think I want to reassess my reference images because I want to make sure that there's a good balance all the way around. But so far so good. You're not going to love all of them.

I also got a lot done on my crochet. I am on, I believe, number 94. Which would be amazing. And I would finish for while I was work. Three of them I got to be done during my time watching the program that I haven't seen. And that program was wiring.

Jack and Cindy were back today and Jack led wiring with Cindy as a second. And I sat in the back and got to watch. It's not a program we do very often and I really enjoyed seeing how they solved the issue of teaching it the littles. Because normally we don't do it because they only do this program with older kids. And so they had to modify it a little bit. Which included having to go find salt and pepper because apparently if you make a balloon staticy it will pick up the pepper but not the salt. I had to go on the hunt for packets of those and ended up finding some with Stanley up in the maintenance offices. And it was very impressive to see and the kids thought it was very cool. Then they got to do wire boards and I don't think I could lead it yet I think I would love to see it again with older kids but I have a better idea of what they do now and how the circuits work. And that was nice just to have a new thing.

After that Jack was supposed to leave balls and track but I told him if he was too tired, he's been still dealing with severe fatigue from having COVID, that I would lead the program. And he took me up on that offer. And I think it was a very good balls of track. I had that the new girl Jess shadowing me and she was a little bit more handsome with them than I tend to be during balls and track but that's fine. However you really want to do it in the end as long as they have fun.

After the kids left I felt very hungry. And so I left museum and went over to chipotle. I didn't really want to eat out. And it ended up being kind of undercooked, specifically the rice. But I needed to eat something fast. And it did make me feel better.

So after I ate I came after the museum and checked back in with the new girl Jess and showed her some stuff and we planned for tomorrow on what she's going to try to lead and we'll leave because we're going to be working together. I'm hoping that she can be ready to do half of the little kid neighborhood tour and we're going to tag team city builders. I think she'll be fine. She's very smart.

And then at 3:00 I help turn off the lights and went to sit with James at the front. I worked on my crochet. And soon it was time to go home. There was a lot of frustration in the building because the internet had gone down. And apparently there was a board meeting today and people were all leaving to go home because they couldn't get on the internet to get on the virtual call and James couldn't close down their drawer and it was all thing. So James did the counting of the money manually and then we went home.

When we got back here I was just very tired. So I ended up changing and just getting in bed. I told James wake me up at 5:30. And I slept very well. When they woke me up I was still very groggy so I stayed in bed just scrolling on my phone until 6:00. And then I made myself get up and worked on art for a while. I sat my studio until 8:30. I worked on embroidery and my poster for this weekend and just a few other small things. I had a piece of cake. And it was a good night.

Took a shower and now I am in bed. James had their podcast and D&D tonight. They've been very busy. But I think soon they'll be done and we'll go to sleep. Tomorrow is another busy day.

I hope it is a good day. I love you all. Take care of each other. Goodnight!!

[bloodbecomeswater]

SCRAP, PRINT, BOOK WORKSHOP

30–31.03.2023 11:00–18:00 BELKA studio for sound and form & КО-ОП FIG.3

Творческата работилница се провежда в рамките на два дена, резултатът от които ще бъде обединен в краен продукт - книга. По време на първия ден ще бъдат създадени произведения на тема, чрез експериментиране със семпли техники за множество отпечатъци, колаж, монотипия и рисунка. На втория ден участниците ще се запознаят с различни похвати и практически занятия по изготвяне на книжно тяло. За целта и в двата уъркшопа ще се използват страници от стари списания, карти, разписки и непотребна хартия. В края на работилниците всеки участник ще си тръгне със собственоръчно изработено издание, с уникално по рода си съдържание.

Моля, обърнете внимание, че мястото ви е запазено само в момента, в който вече сте заплатили билета си. Това може да стане чрез онлайн плащане тук или на място в арт пространство KO-OP.

The workshop takes place over two days, the result of which will be combined into a final product - a book. During the first day, themed artworks will be created by experimenting with simple techniques of multiple prints, collage, monotype and drawing. On the second day, participants will be introduced to various techniques and hands-on sessions on making a book body. Pages from old magazines, maps, receipts and unused paper will be used for this purpose in both workshops. At the end of the workshops, each participant will walk away with a handmade publication, with unique content.

Please note that your place is only reserved at the moment you have already paid for your ticket. This can be done via online payment here or on site at the KO-OP art space.

[setsuyakurotaki]

Setsuya KUROTAKI 「ALTER EGO」 会期：2021年6月4日（金）〜6月13日（日）無休 会場：THE PLUG 東京都渋谷区神宮前 6-12-9 1階 営業時間：13:00〜19:00

東京・渋谷を拠点に、音楽家・選曲家・サウンドデザイナー・マルチアーティストとして活躍する黒瀧節也のエキシビション「ALTER EGO」が原宿の「THE PLUG」で開催。

ALTER EGOを「別の自己 / 無二の親友」と意味付け、黒瀧の音楽と写真を様々な手法やコラボレーションで表現。

フィールドレコーディングした音をプログラミングして60秒のアンビエントドローン音楽を制作し、撮影した写真を組み合わせたアートヴァイナル作品や、「枯れない花」をテーマに、プログラムで花から抽出した色を混ぜ合わせたグラフィックと映像のNFT作品を展示。

その他にニック・ウォーカー（Nick Walker）、Kosuke Kawamura、MACCIU（マチュー）によるレコードジャケットデザインを題材に音源を制作したアートヴァイナル作品と、路上のマスクのゴミをストリートスナップし、コラージュしたポスター作品などを展示・販売。

売り上げの一部は環境美化推進のため、黒瀧の地元である渋谷区と日本赤十字社へ寄付する。

Setsuya Kurotaki “ALTER EGO”

Exhibition Period: June 4 (Fri) – June 13 (Sun), 2021 (Open every day)

Venue: THE PLUG, 1F, 6-12-9 Jingumae, Shibuya-ku, Tokyo

Opening Hours: 13:00 – 19:00

The exhibition “ALTER EGO” by Setsuya Kurotaki, a Tokyo-based musician, music selector, sound designer, and multidisciplinary artist, will be held at “THE PLUG” in Harajuku.

Defining “ALTER EGO” as “another self / inseparable best friend,” Kurotaki expresses his music and photography through various methods and collaborations.

The exhibition will feature art vinyl works, combining photographs taken by Kurotaki with 60-second ambient drone music created by programming field-recorded sounds. Additionally, there will be NFT works themed around “undying flowers,” featuring graphics and videos created by blending colors extracted from flowers using programming.

Other exhibits include art vinyl works for which Kurotaki produced soundtracks inspired by record jacket designs by Nick Walker, Kosuke Kawamura, and MACCIU, as well as poster works created by collaging street snaps of discarded masks found on the streets.

A portion of the proceeds will be donated to the beautification of the environment in Kurotaki’s hometown of Shibuya and the Japanese Red Cross Society.