#I KNOW THAT SOUNDS SO OBNOXIOUS AND ~INFLUENCER~ BUT I LOVE TALKING TO U GUYS ????? AND ABOUT THIS STUFF TOO IM JUST

[sugurugetoshairbrush]

gosh i’m so loving ur stoner suguru stuff…u are so good i love ur work !!!!

tysm!! appreciate you for reading <3—think I’m obsessed with him [prev] [nxt]

tl;dr bong rips with stoner!suguru getou (gone wrong)

it’s not long before suguru invites you back to his place. first, he messages to check if now’s a good time. then, he’s calling to ask if you’re free next weekend. he mentions there’s going to be a block party on his street—an unofficial hempfest of sorts. according to him, the turnout is always huge, and this year, he’s supplying bud for the event.

“we’re setting up a mobile cannabis bar,” he explains, nonchalantly. 

“flashy, easy to distribute from.”

apparently, the event is where gojo’s new strain, bleu dragon’s breath, will debut. “we’re not working the event,” suguru adds bluntly. “we’ve done more than enough in production; they can push the product themselves.”

you laugh at his tone. “what are you, some notorious drug lord?”

he brushes it off with a chuckle and says he’ll pick you up from work friday to avoid the traffic jam that’s sure to hit later.

“and,” he adds with a mischievous lilt, “we’ll pregame with gojo. he just got a new bong—we’ve gotta break it in.”

naturally, you’re down.

by midweek, you realize how big this block party really is when you see flyers plastered around campus. they’re everywhere—on bulletin boards, lampposts, your timeline—featuring bold graphics and a list of attendees: caterers, vendors, and a handful of local influencers.

the day of, suguru pulls up outside your job in his sleek black car, turning a few heads as you approach. your older coworkers eye the tinted windows, whispering amongst themselves.

he greets you with a warm smile as you settle into the passenger seat. “how was work, pretty girl?”

he’s wearing a black nike tech set—your favorite color on him, not that there’s much competition since it’s about eighty percent of his wardrobe. his hair is half-up, the loose bun framing his face just right.

you tell him about the ridiculous filing error that ate up your entire shift. as you talk, he takes your hand, brushing light kisses across your knuckles.

he gets a call from shoko a few minutes later, muttering an apology before answering. it sounds like some last-minute adjustments for the event.

by the time you reach his street, it’s buzzing with activity—tents going up, booths being set, a dj assembling his gear. suguru parks on a side street, and you walk the rest of the way to his building. inside, the energy is palpable, music blasting from the first floor.

upstairs, you hear the shower running and gojo belting out some song at full volume. suguru rolls his eyes. “obnoxious as always,” he mutters, leading you to his room.

you’ve packed a change of clothes in your work bag. setting it down, you hear a loud beep from the kitchen.

“that’s the sushi bake,” suguru says. “gojo’s idea. guy’s a munchies connoisseur.” he heads off to grab it from the oven while you change into an olive-green two-piece skirt set. after refreshing your curls and makeup, you find suguru divvying up the sushi.

“damn,” he whistles as you approach. he feeds you a piece, his gaze lingering. “tastes good, but not half as good as you look right now.”

his hands slide to your waist as he presses a soft kiss to your pulse point.

you hear another whistle, this time, from behind you. “that’s all you, suguru?”

you turn to find gojo, freshly showered, white hair damp and sticking to his forehead. he’s wearing light gray cargos, white adidas, and an azure zip-up that matches his eyes.

“if not,” he grins, “I can easily take over.”

suguru shoves his shoulder. “satoru, please—don’t push it.”

gojo giggles, pulling you into a quick side hug. “what can I say? It’s to be expected when you’re with a baddie. I’d know—I’m a baddie myself.”

you laugh. “I know that’s right.”

suguru groans, “I’m going to change.”

while he’s gone, gojo fills you in on the event lineup and gushes about his new bong, which sits on the coffee table. it’s sleek, with royal blue detailing, almost like a microscope. he tells you that the cannabis bar is going to be managed by shoko tonight, they hired toji, from the first floor, and his buddy as servers. he says they’re always in need of work, as gojo bluntly put it, “they’ll do anything for a dollar.”

when suguru returns in a black compression shirt and windbreaker pants, your brain stalls. the shirt clings to his muscles, accentuating the ridges of his abdomen and the curve of his biceps. he’s leisurely brushing his hair out with a paddle brush, framing his face, and you resist the urge to drop his drawls. 

he grabs the bong and grins. “ready?”

the three of you pile onto the couch, gojo calling dibs for the first hit. he sprinkles the weed into the bowl before packing it down and lighting it. wrapping his lips around the tube, he inhales deeply. smoke billows, rising steadily as the water bubbles. when he exhales, his face twists in pain, and he erupts into a coughing fit.

suguru slaps his back. “it’s okay to cough, man.”

once gojo recovers, suguru takes a hit, inhaling sharply and blowing smoke out through his nose. he smirks. “just not built like me, satoru.”

gojo glares but says nothing. you take the bong next, asking gojo to light it. following suguru’s instructions, you inhale, the smoke harsh on your throat. you manage half a hit before passing it back, coughing softly.

“pulls smooth,” suguru says, finishing your rip with ease.

the session continues until you and gojo are slouched, thoroughly toasted. only suguru’s still going strong. you poke gojo’s side. 

“you feeling it?”

he cracks an eye open, pupils hazy. “… yeah, you?”

you blink at him, grinning stupefied. you both dissolve into giggles, drawing a look from suguru. 

“what’s so funny,” he runs his hand through his hair twisting at the ends, “giggling like a couple of schoolgirls.”

“you wish,” gojo wheezes. “your secret fantasy.”

suguru stretches, “it scares me that you keep adding yourself into the equation,” he stands and walks to the window, peering out. “we should head out soon.”

now that he mentions it, you hear the rhythmic thump of music playing outside, the muffled shout of the dj over the mic. 

suguru taps the window, “I lent them my speakers, the sound output capacity is insane.”

you rise to your feet, reaching down to swat gojo’s shoulder. he glances between the two of you, his eyes heavy and bloodshot. “kaay~ ‘m ready,” he drawls.

as you shuffle out, suguru checks his phone.

“shoko says the bar’s a hit. everything’s running smoothly.”

“as it should be,” you murmur, slightly delayed, trailing him out the door.

outside, the street is teeming with life. cars are jammed along both sides, a few haphazardly parked on sidewalks or half-on, half-off lawns. people are everywhere—some lounging on car hoods, others weaving through the crowd. you catch sight of a few familiar faces from uni as you pass. the dj setup dominates the scene, blasting music loud enough to vibrate through your chest. the largest crowd is gathered around a black tent housing caterers busy with trays of food.

suguru steers the three of you toward the cannabis bar, nodding at familiar faces on the way. the bar is sleek, its emerald-green counter illuminated by a glowing marijuana leaf at its center.

behind the counter stands toji and another man, both in black muscle tees under matching green aprons. a long-haired brunette, presumably shoko, sorts through mylar bags behind them.

toji spots suguru and waves broadly. “my boy! appreciate you hooking me up with this gig. you really came through.”

his voice is louder than your nerves can handle in your current state, so you linger behind suguru, offering a small wave instead. shoko picks up a mylar bag—sapphire blue, sparkly, with a dragon head spitting fire in the corner—and starts discussing marketing strategies with toji’s partner. you’re about to zone out entirely when your phone vibrates in your hand.

gojo satoru has added you to a group chat

bongbros  gojo satoru: what’s fr goign on rn XD

gojo’s timing is impeccable, and you have to stifle a laugh.

you: idk i fee l like im stuck you: can’t stop staring loll

gojo satoru: tryna figure out y toji & shui r working in wife beaters wtfff

you snort.

you: nah cuz y it look like yall hired former inmates from a reentry program

sugu: lmfaoao sugu: toji genuinely has no shame he woulda done it shirtless

gojo satoru: slut

sugu: guys fr though say something your starting to look weird af

you glance up to find suguru glaring at you and gojo while shoko patiently explains the menu to an inquiring couple.

gojo clears his throat, “looking good, toji. how’s little megumi?”

of all the things he could’ve said, that was the wrong one. suguru crosses his arms, and toji’s jaw tightens.

“actually, the boy’s doing good. his mom’s bringing him today. wanted to show him I can be a good father figure or whatever.”

“dad!”

as if summoned, a child barrels into toji’s side. he’s small, with spiky black hair and wide, curious eyes. his tiny fists clutch toji’s waist.

“didn’t think you’d be here,” the boy says. “mom said you were lying.”

toji groans, ruffling the boy’s hair. “don’t listen to her when she says shi–uh, stuff like that, kid.” 

he fist-bumps megumi before ushering him off. “go run around, sport. saw some other kids out here somewhere.”

megumi spins on his heel and dashes off, shouting a cheerful, “see ya!” over his shoulder.

a dark-haired woman, her shoulder-length hair as wiry as megumi’s, approaches, hands on her hips. “now where did that boy run off to? don’t tell me you lost him already.”

you deadpan at suguru, who’s busy typing on his phone.

bongbros sugu: this is about to blow my high. how do we leave

gojo peeks at the screen and quickly improvises. “guys, nanami just texted me. he’s down the street. let’s go.”

without hesitation, you, suguru, and gojo slip away unnoticed, leaving toji and his ex mid-argument.

“good save, satoru,” suguru mutters, his hand settling on your waist as he guides you through the sea of people. you poke gojo in the back playfully.

“came up with that lie pretty quick.”

gojo chuckles. “no, I’m actually a terrible liar. he really did text me—he’s over there.” he points down the street.

suguru drums his fingers lightly on your side. “you go ahead. we’re grabbing drinks from the tent.”

gojo flashes two thumbs up and spins on his heel. “text me~!”

the turnout is massive. everywhere you look, people are holding emerald-green cups from the cannabis bar–thc infused drinks. the atmosphere is charged—friends chatting, couples dirty-dancing near the dj booth, laughter blending into the music.

in the catering tent, the servers are polished, dressed in slacks and tucked-in shirts. suguru orders a beer, and you ask for a frozen wine, craving something fancy. the drink is fruity and refreshing, a cold burst of relief in the humid air. you let out a content sigh.

“cotton mouth?” suguru teases, popping the cap off his beer.

“you don’t even know. feels like I haven’t had anything to drink in years.”

he chuckles, taking a long sip, his throat bobbing as he swallows. the sight draws your gaze for a moment longer than you’d like to admit.

suguru smirks and leans closer, his hand sliding down your back to give your ass a playful squeeze. “can’t have that now, can we?”

he kisses you, the malty scent of beer mingling with his warmth. your free hand moves to his arm, fingers tracing the firm muscle beneath his sleeve. the two of you sway gently to the music, the air thick with liquor, sweat, and smoked barbecue.

another kiss lands on your temple, tender and lingering, before your phones buzz simultaneously.

bongbros gojo satoru: guys guys guys guys gojo satoru: sports cars doing donuts gojo satoru: nanami’s got the lambo gojo satoru: djfojfjdsd

sugu: stop blowing our shit up

gojo satoru: D:

sugu: on our way

by now, the sun is setting, casting a warm orange glow over the scene, but somehow the energy has only intensified. hollers echo down the street, engines revving as the smell of burning rubber fills the air. suguru had mentioned nanami before—a childhood friend from their hometown. he’s a salaryman, and from what you’ve heard from gojo can be pretty uptight, but is insanely wealthy.

you spot gojo’s hand waving high above the crowd, his ridiculous height a beacon. as you approach, you see a yellow corvette drifting at the fork in the road, tires screeching, while onlookers cheer wildly.

gojo is leaning into the open driver’s window of a sleek green lamborghini. the man in the driver’s seat is handsome, with slicked-back sandy-blonde hair, sharp cheekbones, and a jawline that could cut glass. you blink, wondering if everyone in suguru’s circle is preternaturally attractive. there’s got to be something in their water.

“ah, there you are.” suguru’s voice snaps you back to reality as he introduces you to nanami, who greets you with a polite nod and a brief, “pleasure to meet you. heard lots.”

gojo is grinning like a kid, egging nanami on. “c’mon, rev it! assert your dominance, nanamin~”

before you can roll your eyes, you feel a tug on your shirt. confused, you glance down and find little megumi, his lips stained blue from a popsicle that’s dripping steadily onto the pavement.

“hello, miss.” his voice is timid, and his big eyes flit nervously to the side. “um my dad told me to tell you that you look really pretty tonight. he said you should talk to him later.”

you blink, stifling a laugh as his cheeks flush pink.

“and that’s it. I only said yes so I could get this popsicle.”

he’s so earnest it’s hard to be mad at toji’s sleazy attempt to use his own kid as a wingman. you pat megumi’s head gently.

“thanks for telling me. you can let him know suguru will talk to him. now go enjoy that popsicle!”

the boy beams and darts off, leaving a trail of blue drips in his wake. when you turn back, suguru and gojo have joined nanami in the lambo, chatting casually. deciding to tread carefully, you pull out your phone to message gojo privately.

you: soooo toji’s kid just told me his dad thinks I look pretty. how mad will that make suguru?

gojo’s eyes widen as he reads the message.

gojo satoru: :0 come again?? gojo satoru: using his son is crazy work gojo satoru: but just tell him. he’ll prob just be annoyed

gojo is wrong. suguru isn’t just annoyed—he’s pissed.

when you relay the story to the group chat, suguru immediately gets out of the car, his jaw tight. 

“I’m sorry, he did what?”

in hindsight, telling a cross-faded suguru wasn’t your best move. you try to downplay it. “it’s fine, just tell him off later. no big deal.”

suguru rolls his neck, drawing in a deep breath. gojo scrambles out of the car. “whoa, whoa, what’s going on?”

suguru hands gojo his beer and flashes you a deceptively calm smile. “I think I’ll talk to him now. he’s got some nerve.”

you and gojo exchange panicked looks before rushing to follow him as he storms through the crowd.

“toji!”

toji looks up from where he’s crouched by the bar, snuffing out a cigarette. he grins sheepishly, straightening up.

“hey, neph. c’mon, ’s all love. jusst jokes.” his words slur, he must’ve got into something despite working the event.

suguru doesn’t stop, an unreadable look on his face. 

“stand up.”

toji chuckles nervously but rises to his feet. “no hard feelings?”

suguru tilts his head. “where’s your son?”

“two streets down with the neighbor ki—”

THWACK.

suguru’s fist connects with toji’s cheek in a brutal arc. gojo curses, spilling beer on your top as he stumbles forward.

“shit, shit, shit!”

toji staggers back, clutching his face, but suguru doesn’t advance. he exhales slowly, his voice low and sharp. “you’re fired.”

toji scoffs, but before he can retort, megumi’s mother shouts from across the yard, “now, toji, I know your sorry-ass didn’t just lose another job—”

gojo grabs you by the wrist, steering you and suguru away before the scene escalates further.

his grip is firm, unfaltering, as he weaves through the crowd until you all regroup behind a tricked-out silver nissan. suguru leans against the car, running a hand through his hair.

“sorry, guys,” he starts, his tone low and tense. “I shouldn’t have done that. he’s been disrespecting me all week.”

you shoot him a sympathetic look. “I don’t care about the punch—it is what it is.”

gojo snickers, folding his arms. “honestly? someone had to do it.”

“but,” you continue, your voice soft, “what about the bar? you don’t want this mess tied back to it.”

suguru sighs, nodding. “you’re right. I should go back, smooth things over. shoko already texted me the numbers—we’re good to pack it up early.”

gojo glances down at you and his eyes widen in realization. “shit, I didn’t mean to spill beer all over you. I can take you back to the apartment so you can clean up.”

you look down, grimacing at the sticky fabric clinging to your chest. “yeah, it’s starting to get gross.”

gojo extends his hand out, palm down. “sounds good. okay, bongbros—on three!”

suguru visibly cringes, briefly cupping your cheek in his hand before heading back toward the bar.

gojo pouts dramatically. “rude.”

the apartment building is eerily quiet, with most tenants likely still outside. now that you’re away from the thumping music and roaring crowd, you realize your ears are ringing.

on the elevator ride up, you and gojo start debriefing the night’s events, laughing at how surreal it all felt.

“I still can’t believe it,” gojo says, shaking his head. “he just—boom! punched the shit out of him.”

you’re giggling when you trudge inside. gojo flicks on the lights and immediately flops face-down on the couch.

“jus let y’rself into sugu’s room f’clothes,” he mumbles into the cushion.

in suguru’s bedroom, you peel off your soaked top, smoothing out your skirt—which, miraculously, stayed dry. you grab some wipes from his dresser to clean the sticky residue off your chest and arms before rifling through his closet.

you settle on one of his white button-up shirts, the fabric loose and soft as it drapes over your frame, the hem brushing the top of your skirt.

gojo calls out from the other room. “hey, I’m gonna run back downstairs—sugu says toji and megumi’s mom are in a drunken spat. gonna check on the kid.”

“go ahead,” you reply, sprawling across suguru’s bed. his scent surrounds you, and in the quiet privacy of his room, your body finally relaxes.

the dizziness from being crossfaded creeps up on you, making you feel hot and languid. catching your reflection in the mirror, you notice how disheveled you look—hair tousled, the button-up hanging loosely off your shoulders, revealing a hint of your lacy black bra. your skirt has ridden up just enough to tease the matching panties beneath.

your phone buzzes.

sugu: you okay? sugu: sorry again. sugu: if you want to leave, I understand.

you: sugu I’m not mad

sugu: were you able to change?

you smirk. lifting your phone, you lean forward slightly, letting the shirt hang off your chest just enough to entice. angling your phone, you snap a couple photos.

you: 2 attachments sent

you watch the text bubble appear, then vanish, then reappear.

sugu: fuck. sugu: you look so fucking good. sugu: my pretty girl.

you: you like?

sugu: so much. sugu: I’m almost done. want me to join you?

you: that’s not all I want…

you record a voice memo, your tone low and sultry. “I want you to come up here and undress me, sugu—I need you.”

you hit send, watching as he saves the audio. for a few agonizing moments, nothing happens.

then a notification pops up—not from suguru, but from the group chat.

bongbros gojo satoru: OMFG gojo satoru: LMAOOAOAOAO gojo satoru: SUGURU’S PHONE JUST CONXECTED TO THE SPEAKER

your stomach drops.

gojo satoru: sounded sexy btw gojo satoru: sugu please don’t punch me 4 that^

you: the whole message played???

gojo satoru: nah, just the first 2 secs

you: omg

gojo satoru: LMAO sugu just had the dj start scrubbing a track so it seemed like part of the set gojo satoru: his face is so red

sugu: almost just had a fuckign heart attack sugu: my phone auto connected to bluetooth

you: I’m sorry suguu :( you: <3

sugu: <3

gojo satoru: <3

sugu: satoru

gojo satoru: :P gojo satoru: guys megumi is gonna stay over tn his parents are having drunk make up sex in the backseat of toji’s honda gojo satoru: I was keeping him distracted with games on my phone were coming up now

sugu: me too i feel fried

by the time gojo returns with megumi, you’re completely drained. you help him set up blankets and pillows on the couch while megumi disappears into gojo’s room with his phone.

gojo flops onto the couch dramatically. “I just… can’t.”

smiling weakly, you drape a blanket over him before returning to suguru’s bed. shedding your skirt, you collapse onto the comforter, exhaustion pulling you into a haze.

suguru slips in quietly sometime later, flopping on top of you.

you wheeze, tapping his arm. “can’t. breathe.”

he rolls to the side, cradling your face with his hands. his dark eyes soften as he presses gentle kisses to your nose, forehead, and cheek.

“you stayed,” he murmurs, his voice tinged with relief.

“of course,” you whisper, smiling.

suguru pulls you into his arms, his chest flush against your back as his lips brush against your neck. his warm, steady presence lulls you into that foggy space between wakefulness and sleep—until his lips press slow, deliberate kisses along your neck, and you let out a shaky moan.

his fingers twitch against your waist, his breath hot and heavy in your ear. “that’s what I like to hear,” he murmurs.

his hand moves with a desperate sort of hunger, tracing the curve of your breast before slipping beneath the lace of your bra. when his finger grazes the metal of your piercing, the mix of cool and heat sends a jolt through you, drawing out a whimper you can’t contain.

“so sensitive.”

his tongue drags a wet stripe up the side of your neck, and his foot hooks around your ankle, guiding you to straddle him. his palms slide down your thighs, spreading them as he pulls you flush against him.

“you drove me crazy tonight,” he breathes into your ear, voice laced with want. “your voice message… so needy.”

you nod, squirming as his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties, tugging playfully.

“say it,” he demands softly.

your bottom lip slips free from your teeth, likely raw from all your biting. “need you so badly, sugu.”

the desperation in your tone has him groaning low in his throat. “I’ve got you, baby,” he murmurs, his breath fanning against your skin. “but you gotta be quiet for me.”

his fingers find your clothed clit, moving in maddeningly slow circles. your breath stutters as you nod weakly in agreement. his pace quickens, and his tongue flicks teasingly at the shell of your ear, making you momentarily forget how to breathe.

“baby, you’re soaked,” he whispers, his voice tinged with amusement. “these panties are drenched.”

he slides his fingers along the fabric, slick from your arousal, and you squeak when he skims over your clit. his hands spread your thighs wider, one steadying you while the other pulls your panties to the side.

“be a good girl and stay quiet,” he instructs, pressing two fingers inside you with deliberate slowness.

they’re thick, filling you to the point of blissful ache, and the sensation draws breathy, shallow moans from your lips.

“shhh.”

his fingers curl inside you, seeking the spot that has your thighs trembling. he sets a steady pace, each motion purposeful. between his hot breath, the mounting pressure in your core, and the obscene sounds of your wetness, you’re overwhelmed.

your release builds fast, slick gushing around his fingers. you whisper his name, fighting to stay quiet, even as he speeds up. his free hand finds your clit, rubbing tight, relentless circles.

“feels good?” he asks, the rasp in his voice nearly enough to undo you.

you manage a stuttered, “s-sugu, feels so good—ah, ’m close.”

“already?” he teases, his smirk audible. “gonna come for me? come all over my fingers?”

his words are your undoing. your stomach tightens, and you gasp out, “sugu, gonna—”

before you can finish, he withdraws his fingers, leaving you teetering on the edge. a strangled moan escapes, muffled when he clamps his hand over your mouth.

“shhh, baby.”

your tongue darts out to lick at his palm, and he groans low in his chest. his fingers flick over your clit, and you shudder as he pushes them into your mouth.

“suck.”

you obey, wrapping your lips around his fingers, the taste of yourself flooding your senses. he continues working you, fingers stroking deep inside, drawing out your climax. your walls flutter around him, your muffled cries vibrating against his fingers as you ride out the waves.

when you finally catch your breath, your body feels languid, boneless. he withdraws his fingers with a wet pop, leaving a string of saliva between them and your lips.

“you did so well for me,” he coos, pressing soft kisses along the side of your neck. his hands smooth over your skin, tucking your panties back into place as he cradles you against him.

the buzz of satisfaction hums in your veins, and his words blur into the haze of post-orgasm bliss. as he rests you on your side, his touch soothing, sleep pulls you under. the last thing you think is his name, whispered like a prayer.

[@tojisth3rdwife consider this my formal apology for bum!toji]

[bakatenshii]

「 𝔣𝔞𝔰𝔥𝔦𝔬𝔫 𝔞𝔰𝔨𝔰

♡ since I don’t wanna clog the dash

I only use chinese tiktok aka douyin, and my ig is just my personal one! I’m so flattered you would say that though AHHHH thank u so much, I thought about doing youtube with my best friend at some point a few yrs ago but I realized I don’t really want that recognition if that makes sense? I’d prefer laying low tbh!! I have some friends who do youtube tho and it seems fun enough but I’m too inconsistent hehe THANK U SO MUCH THOUGH EEEEEp I’m blushin (๑꒪̇⌄꒪̇๑)

HAHAHA I WAS TALKING TO MY IRL BEST FRIEND ABOUT THIS bc she watched Emily in Paris and then screamed to me about how there’s no way that as a broke stressed uni student she can afford that much Chanel. But it totally depends!

Every major has a niche; styling/PR are deffo the most expensively-dressed, most styling majors I know build off of their own igs so they’re always super up there. Design majors tend to stick to more thrifted/vintage/niche pieces, loads of them (and me lmao) are whores for archive pieces over the newest collections. The Chinese international students are always logo’d up HAHAHAHA AS USUAL or in all black rick/yohji it’s like one or the other. But as a whole I think we try to scavenge for unique pieces, bcos it’s easy to make designer look good, but it’s harder to style something cheap and thrifted to look expensive ya know? Always have a mix! That’s the formula hehe

If I’m given a super high budget, I’m assuming I can’t say a flat right lMAOOOOO, in terms of designer goods probably timeless pieces? Something I can get the most wear out of, or some obnoxious accessories/bag/clothing that I can’t justify the price of otherwise bc I’d probs wear it like once.

Everyone’s happy to splurge on different things, if you think you’re gonna get a lot of wear outta the Cartier Love bracelet, get it! It’s timeless and simple enough for everyday wear, so if that’s something you’re interested in dropping a bag on, go for it!

My view is that we’re all allowed our Thing we wanna splurge on, sometimes it’s a bag, sometimes it’s jewelry, if you’re able to save up for something like that that you’d really love to have then I don’t see why not. Just don’t go spending money you don’t have on loads of designer goods for the sake of it, but at the end of the day it’s your money! haha

I’M HONOURED, I’d like to think I’m still glowing up so pls let’s hold hands and stomp on the world <333

Just two rings on my right hand! They’re both simple bands, one in silver one in gold because I believe in mixing ur metals ╰༼=ಠਊಠ=༽╯

I love juste un clou!! I always wonder if the actual top bit might get in the way though? I’m sure it doesn’t but every time I see it I’m like טּ_טּ it looks like it’ll be uncomfy. But deffo rt, it’s cute and simple with a bit of design if simple bands are too boring!

ooooh for the anon above (and also the anon looking for luxury jewelry) there u go! they’re absolutely a classic I agree, and they’re incredibly iconic. I don’t personally do bracelet stacks, I’m more of a watch person (I don’t own any before yall ask HAHA) BUT I can appreciate it! I think it upgrades a simple outfit easily, and goes well with almost anything. THANK U FOR UR INPUT IM TAKING NOTES <33

Unpopular opinion (??? sorta) but I’m a whore for reworked anything. I know a looot of people say reworking a luxury item takes away it’s class and worth but imo it gives it a new life. You get new designs, new silhouettes, a whole new aesthetic from an old piece. Often times brands stick to the classics, they stick to what they know will stick around, but sometimes you want smth unique ya know?

I’m all for reworked luxury anything! I mean like the concept of reworking anything, it rly depends case by case whether I think the reworked product is worth it, but as a whole— in theory— I love it hehe

[chalkxtabletxtowers]

~Love can make you kill~

•Fandom: Helluva Boss

•Shipping: Striker x Reader

•Warnings: Manipulation (duh), but otherwise none.

The motel was dimly lit as you stepped inside. The last light bulb seemed to have given up months ago and no one seemed to care enough to actually fix it. Many of the rooms you could've gone in, were shut down and tightly blocked with wooden planks. It all looked very worn out, old and neglected, but it was probably also really cheap. This was the kind of place where criminals lived. The perfect place for your boyfriend.

The only thing that shone brightly into the dark, starry night, was a obnoxiously bright neon sign "Hideaway Motel" it said, the E had already given out and stopped glowing. The rest was red and yellow, a color mixture that stung in your sensitive eyes. Under there, it stated "The guy that tried 2 kill u def isn't here"

It seemed like the space wasn't there to add the proper sentences, but it still made sense to you. This all was so obvious and obnoxious, that you genuinely wondered if there were people falling for that stupid sign. You sighted as you stepped inside. There obviously wasn't a receptionist, the owner probably didn't even have enough money to pay for decent workers. How was this considered a hideout? You didn't even try to add a safe into your thoughts.

"There you are. I've been waiting for ya, my Darling"

A familiar voice pulled you out of your thoughts, and you looked up to see the snake demon walking towards you, his boots making loud noises in the creaking wooden floor. "It was so lonely without ya company, especially at the festival! But now youre here, my favorite person in the entire world!"

He hugged you and wrapped his tail around you, and you would've sunken into the hug, like you usually did, but you knew something about the atmosphere wasn't relaxing at all. You just couldn't put your finger on it "I knew ya would come back eventually"

He whispered, his tongue slithering so close to your ear that it made you shiver. "Don't ever threaten to leave me again if you can't pull through with it. And we both know you can't, Darling"

He let go and sat down on the bed, crossing one leg over the other and signaling you to sit down beside him, which you did. He wrapped his arm around you and pulled you closer once more, talking about the festival and everything he had seemingly experienced. "But you're hurt, Striker."

You noticed and pointed to the bruises in his face "Did something happen to you?"

You genuinely sounded worried, because you were. Guilt crept up on you, guilt for not being with Striker when he apparently needed you. Guilt for letting him get hurt by other people. "Yeah, there was this guy called Blitz on the festival, together with his colleagues from work. And one of them tried to fight me, but he was pathetic and I would've killed him, if I would've gotten the chance to. But fuck did his wife fight back."

You somehow knew this wasn't the whole truth, but also knew better than to ask any invasive questions. Striker wouldn't answer them anyway, or ask if you didn't trust him again. And you didn't know how else to prove anymore that you did.

"I told you not to pick a fight with other people that you aren't supposed to kill. It ends up in a mess and I don't want you to get hurt."

Sighting, you stroke over his chest and inhaled his scent. He always smelled like gunpowder, like hay and the droppings of the animals he took care off. This time, he also smelled like blood.

"I know, I know"

He raised his hands in defense "But ya also know how good my fighting skills are. And the wounds will heal. I'm not sitting here for no reason, Darling"

You just nodded, not interested in picking a fight with him. Not tonight. Not now, that you finally reunited after a argument, that had been your fault. But Striker wasn't very resentful when it came to this, which made everything easier.

"Ohh, Darling, there's this thing I've been wanting to ask you..."

His voice sounded soft, so full of love and affection towards you, that was there somewhere, just his own twisted definition of it.

"Really? What is it? You know I'd do anything for you!"

You eagerly said, watching as he stood up and walked around you and the bed in a circle. It always made you nervous when he did this, but it also almost immediately relaxed you.

"Just look at me Darling, other things don't matter right now. You know how I kill people if I get payed enough, right?"

He asked and you nodded, completely drawn in by him, like a moth that saw a lamp for the first time. You were close to burning your wings, but you didn't notice. His manipulation was too good.

"Yes, of course Striker" you replied, wanting to make him happy.

He just nodded in satisfaction "And you know how you were always against you doing that, which made me really sad, right?"

You nodded again. You had felt guilty for it, as you saw his disappointed glance everytime, but your point still stood. You weren't a pacifist for no reason. "Yes, I know Striker"

He smirked, knowing that everything worked as he wanted. He increased his speed, his tail brushing over your shoulders and chest "There is this royalty of Hell who's been cheating on his wife. Isn't that horrible behaviour?"

He didn't care about that, but he knew you would "And he's a bad influence for his daughter too! Darling"

He sat next to you and took your hands, which immediately caused you to look into his eyes, the wrongest thing you could've done. They were hypnotising in every sense of the word. "Do you want to kill him with me?"

He whispered, eagerly awaiting your response.

"I-"

You did think that royalty had the job to be a good example for other demons in hell. And what he had done didn't sound too nice, and it went against your morals. That, added to his fantastic manipulation, caused you to nod "Yes. Yes I want to kill him with you, Striker"

Striker smirked in success. That's what he had wanted. Seeing his dearest Darling kill send shivers down his spine. It would be amazing! And afterwards, you two could celebrate the victory and your first kill. "That's a good darling."

He gave you a kiss and gently pushed you back, looking at you again "Now. Don't you want to give me a little compensation for being gone for so long?"

You could have sworn you kept the whole motel awake for the night, and as you cuddled against Strikers chest in the morning, you knew you had found the demon for a life time.

[mikkock]

HELLO I ADORE YOUR OCS SO MUCH WILL YOU TELL ME ABOUT KAI HE LOOKS LIKE A TOTAL "YOUR DAUGHTER CALLS ME DADDY TOO" DOUCHEBAG AND I FUCKING LOVE HIM AND WANNA KNOW MORE ABOUT HIM

LBLMVBGK THANK U OMG love it when ppl like my kids, im a proud dad rn

ALSO wrow congrats on ur on point analysis, cause, that’s the Essence Of His Being (fun fact since i got two characters who go by the name of kai -cause fuck that basic writing tip that says ‘dont have two characters named the same thing- i usually refer to him as The Bad Kai cuz he a bad bitch)

so lets unwrap that dude shall we uwu 

SO this dude was created when i realised my story didnt have antagonists so i made a bunch of Bad People and then they all became good people after i started giving them more personnality somehow eXCEPt him for some reason, the only survivor of the “everyone will be baby” plague, the only rude bitch in this house, the only guy who’s still on the dark grey side of morally grey...but tbh im in love with him cause he’s an asshole and im an idiot so like.

His base concept was basically something along the lines of “fuckboy but make it Couture”, like douchebag indeed But Gotta Be Fancy at being one, gotta add a pinch of Sneaky Bitch in the pot. His aesthetic is Chillin, gettin in ur pants, then moving on for some more chillin and more pants. So if you’re into some funky sexy time with no pressure and no ties, ya gon get along, your goals meet, time to have fun.

All that is supported by his charisma, cause unless ya got some nasty history, he’ll just look like that charming bad-boy “oho hot dude with a dangerous but not agressive” vibed person, and he’s quite a sweet-talker. He’s probs not only the ‘your daughter calls me daddy’ kind but also ‘and so will YOU, i’m scoring with the whole family and you wont stop me (and you wont WANT to stop me)’ 

He got that handsome ppl priviledge ya feel

but also, he wouldnt be a rude guy if he was just the ‘i enjoy chill frick-fracking and im just so sexy that no one can say no to that booty’ guy

Dude got quiiite some spite-fueled ego and Does Not Take losing well, and will not, in fact, let himself lose on any objective he has, and when that objective is A Person, he gets ugly. Being good at sweet talking also means being good at small stuff like “not saying exactly the truth always when it would be more beneficial not to”, “deliberately using euphemistic, ambiguous or obscure language so to mask wrong doings and technically saying the truth but in such a way that it becomes completely masked by a thick fog of bullshit”, and “use words and behaviour in general to influence others unscrupulously so to get something in return”. Even a little “playing with their perception in order to make them doubt in their thoughts and selves”. In short dude got no qualms about using all the tools of manipulation available if it means that he comes on top (or on bottom if the goal was getting an assful eeeeeey we’re masters of comedy here) It tends to be all for short term results tho, so not much your ‘boyfriend who convinces you you’re nothing without him” and more of a “you thought you were dating but only you were thinking that as he always kept it just vague enough to have you not official yet convinced of his and now you’re blaming yourself for believing you were together”

master of getting ass, also master of Ugly Ass Breakups, and master of suddenly dissapearing from your life so hard that you wonder if it was just your imagination all along (he got ugly past with a bunch of other ocs especially he’s ex boyfriend with two that are now together cause i dig that sort of drama the sAME dUDe gave u the trust issues that held u from going full lovey dovey ? i fucking lIVE off that kinda shit wait until he pops back like ‘oho hello fancy seeing YOU TWO here my two fave exes together incredible what a small world”)

Though I have to rework on all that cause that backstory is oLD AS SHIT (like prolly i built it in what, 2016? ew ugly) I had that stem from some sort of neglect-fueled inferiority complex. I had given him a kinda cold family with a bunch of siblings who got Way More Nurtured due to their respective talents and achievements, having him left behind and feeling like he got nothing. SO that’s basically the explanation as of today but i dont like iiiiit anymooooore so I’ll have to work on it to make it something i dig, cause idk, bitch feels flat so far.

BUT i do intend on keeping the whole concept of ~Loneliness~, and of him working alone and quite hard for anything he gets. And the general need of proving himself that had come from the WIP backstory. I don’t exactly see him as an overachiever at all, but definitly as an obstinate and persevering hardworking guy, because “Look YALL I WAS aBLE TO DO THIS YALL THOUGHT I COULDNT HUH YALL LOOK DOWN ON ME well fuck u cause idc im better than u now also ur mum’s into bondage i kno from experience bye”. So tbh pair up with him for group projects, you’ll be sure his share of the work will be done (but also if you dont do yours then he’s probably going to be a bITCh about it, no remorse in leaving blank slides in the middle of the powerpoint and then loudly proclaiming ‘OH RIGHT This was supposed to be Kevin’s part but I suppose he never sent it to me, despite the numerous reminders i sent him, no big deal, no hard feelings, its ok sweetie we all sometimes feel too lazy i forgive u :)” )

Also he’d be Chill to hang out with for like, parties, nights out at the bar, that kinda shit. He definetly has some beans to spill about quite some people, he gathers the goss as he gathers lovers (i was gonna end that in “as he spreads legs” but it sounded too PG-18 for this good Well Behaved family friendly blog) and Will Not stay tight lipped, and Will be a bitch when trashtalking people, and It Will Be Entertaining as it always is when you’re hearing about crazy exes and you’ve had some beers. 

Now trivia that idk where else to write cause idk i stupid or more like disorganised :

- he digs red ale beer like if ya wanna win him over with the appropriate alcohol offer there u go

- he’s a fake blonde (cause my hobby is painting regrowth roots on hair)

- his design is a mixture of those 3dgy denim boys u see on pinterest and the specific brand of fuckboys that are french-L-section-chic-grunge-hipster-fuckboys (L section is like a branch of highschool)(that word combo is a so specific kinda guy)(its kinda like a softboi but more arrogant but in a lowkey way)(also they rich)(but he’s not rich so guess that should make him Less Arrogant)

-im constantly dead afraid of giving him more characteristics and story or whatveer cause he’s the only meanie i got left and i do Not want him to stop being an asshole but everytime i develop a character they end up nice or redeemed or whatever and i wanna keep him a bitch so i neglect him (just like his parents in his 2016 version wow)

he smokes (prolly started quite early to Be Kool and now relies on it for stress relief)

he’s outspoken and extraverted and prolly the guy who had a lot to say when you were doing debates in class (there’s always that person who has a Lot to argument about)(its him) but outside of a Set and Defined debate structure he probably doesnt give his mind voraciously 

he’s a law student and despite saying he’s the one bad guy left he probably wont be a corrupt lawyer or judge or whatever like come on he will do his job properly he worked hARD FOR THIS justice may be served

he’s not the kind to openly hate or even dislike anyone cause what’s the point of wasting your energy on that? its much funnier to him to be obnoxiously Neutral with someone and basically ignore them but still strike them with some Spikes of passive-agressive comments, let them be Mad at your calmness

he’s 177cm tall (that’s like 5.8 according to google)

honestly if you’re bros with him he’s fun to be with the being a jerk is completly coincidental 

he probably ranks high in the list of “those criminals who steal big lighters from their friends” 

i think at a point his design had tattoos but i forgot the designs of those so now he doesnt anymore

a dog person

i think ive run out of facts (or my brain dead) so im leavin with a shirtless pic cause my hobby is drawing tits

in short, charming asshole who can get ugly, secretly feels lonely and small, works hard for himself, better have him as a friend than as a foe though probably not the most frontally agressive enemy, and also, your booty, hand it over.

[caratdreams]

surreptitious

aka “you hate my best friend and we’re not supposed to be dating and yet ...”

Member: S. Coups

Word Count: 6.5k

Money was a powerful incentive. It spearheaded the actions of the filthy-rich, let alone influenced the decisions of a student struggling to pay rent. The first time you agreed to do the night shift was because you knew you needed the money, and now it was a regular part of your routine. One which, uncharacteristically, you looked forward to.

The face of the clock, its retro design perfectly encapsulating the aura of the diner, read a few minutes past one in the morning. At any moment now, he would stride through the doors, followed by the same group of boys he always seemed to be with.  

“So, where’s my favourite waitress?”

Ah, there he was.

“Right here, as always. Let me guess,” you pretended to be unaffected as he placed his forearms on the counter, leaning in towards you. The familiar scent of his leather jacket was a welcome change to the smell of cooking oil that you had become so accustomed to. “Medium fries and a large chocolate milkshake?”

“You know me so well.” It had been two months since the dark-haired, bright-eyed boy in front of you had first walked in to the diner. His appearances at first were sporadic, but once he’d figured out that you worked the night shift every Thursday, he began to show up almost weekly. Up to this point he had never shown up alone, always with at least a couple other boys. Taking their orders was merely a formality at this point, as they had never once deviated from their choices.

After calling out the orders to the chefs in the kitchen, you turned back around to find that he was still leaning against the counter. He simply smiled when yours eyes drifted behind him to his friends sat at a booth, before returning to him.

“What exactly is it that you do every Thursday night that has you coming here afterwards?” Your gaze dropped to his lips as you waited for his answer, watching as he parted them to speak, wondering, not for the first time, what it would be like to kiss them.

“It’s hard to concentrate when you look at me like that, you know.” A brief moment of concern rushed through you as you wondered if you really were that easy to read, but you weren’t going to push him any further on that point.

“Don’t avoid the question.” He smirked. Every interaction you had seemed to prove to him that you weren’t one to give up easily.

“We’re just hanging out,” he shrugged, placing a palm on the counter. “It’s a nice way to de-stress.” Something told you that his definition of ‘hanging out’ was a lot different to yours. “I have a question for you, actually. When are you gonna let me take you out on a date?” The words surprised you, for you never once thought his flirting was serious. Raising an eyebrow, you considered his offer.

“I don’t even know your name.” Which wasn’t fair, really, as your nametag had revealed yours immediately during your first meeting. You remembered how he had first said your name, letting it roll of the tongue, and how your heart jumped at the sound.

“Seungcheol. Only my dad calls me that, though. I’m just Cheol to everyone else.”

“Well, Cheol.” You tore a piece of thermal paper from the receipt printer. He peaked over to see that you had written your name, with digits following. “Why don’t you take my number, and I’ll let you know if you can take me on a date?” 

“If or when?” You didn’t answer, as one of the chefs had called your name. Once you disappeared into the kitchen, Seungcheol placed the piece of paper in his pocket before sliding into the booth with his friends.

The rest of the shift passed by uneventfully after the boys left, and when you weren’t making conversation with the chefs or cleaning up, you found yourself staring at the clock. Ten minutes left, which was only sixty seconds ten times, easy. Your phone buzzed.

Jeonghan [02:20]: near the diner, need me to pick u up?

You [02:20]: yes please, shift finishes in 10 

The obnoxious beeping of a horn alerted you of Jeonghan’s presence. Unlike the uncertainty that surrounded Seungcheol, you knew exactly why Jeonghan was awake and outside at this time of night. Whereas most people, like yourself, got a part-time job, Jeonghan raced cars. The entire practice of streetracing was illegal, but that didn’t deter him, nor did the dangers associated with it. You couldn’t imagine doing something like that regularly, but who were you to stop him?

“How was your shift?” he asked, head turned as he focused on reversing the car. “Did that guy you have a crush on show up again?”

“Oh, shut up, it’s not a crush!” You smacked Jeonghan’s forearm, lips curling up in satisfaction when he yelped.

“Come on, you can’t talk about the guy without getting that stupid smile on your face. Did you at least find out his name?” He was cruising down the road now, battling his inner drive to go even faster – he knew it would only make you uncomfortable.

“Yes, and I gave him my number.”

“Look at you, making big moves. You’re all grown up!”

“I can tell when you’re mocking me, you dick.” Your hand fiddled with the zip of your jacket, the rest of your body tensing as you came to ask the next question. “How was your night?” You knew he had been practicing with the others, speeding their cars around the outskirts of the city trying to best their times. There was a race coming up, one which seemed important to them though you didn’t know all the details.

“It was good. Promising.” He slowed down, coming to a traffic light. Tapping his fingers against the steering wheel, he turned to you. “You should come, you know.” This wasn’t the first time he had tried to get you to watch a race, and it probably wasn’t going to be the last. You both admired and hated his persistence.

“I don’t wanna watch you hurt yourself.”

“Look at me, have I ever hurt myself? I’m probably the safest driver out of everyone you know.”

“That’s hard to believe.”

“Just this one race, Y/N, and I’ll never ask you again. Hey, you might even enjoy it. Plus, there’s gonna be an afterparty.”

“Fine. Just this once.”

Throughout your life, you had received mixed messages about trusting your gut. At the age of five, you had been too scared to climb the monkey bars in the playground. The knots in your stomach didn’t let up when your so-called best friend warned you that you had to climb them, or else. All you got from that interaction was a broken arm from falling from the frame, and a bittersweet sense of satisfaction from knowing that you were right. You much preferred to listen to your mother, who had told you to always trust your instinct.

That familiar knot in your stomach was present as you looked down the road, one that seemed to lead absolutely nowhere – only into the dead of the night.

“Relax.” Jeonghan’s light voice tore through your musings. He handed you a beer, which you were quick to accept because Lord knows you needed something. “The stars are out, Seokmin’s gonna win the race tonight, no one’s gonna get hurt – what’s there to be worried about?”

“It’s my first time being at something like this, I don’t know.”

“If you can handle Jun’s parties, you can definitely handle this.” That at least managed to get you to break out into a smile. “Also, didn’t you tell me you have a date tomorrow? I don’t want you passing out from anxiety and hitting your head before then, now cheer up.”

Over the past few days your thoughts had been clouded by an unsettling mix of uni work, the race, and your upcoming date with Seungcheol. You hadn’t expected him to text you so quickly, nor did you think he would be so proactive in setting up the date. The thought of spending some alone time with him actually excited you, the complete opposite of the tension that flew through you when you thought about the race.

The tough love from Jeonghan that you were so used to did its job in terms of easing your nerves. The knot in your stomach was subdued as you sat on the grass with the rest of Jeonghan’s racing crew. Their laughter and uncensored joy was of comfort to you. Scanning the area, you noticed that a pretty decent-sized crowd had showed up to watch the race – some you recognised, some you didn’t. You didn’t think it would be this big of a deal.

“The assholes are here.” Soonyoung spoke, eyes darting across his phone as he read out the text. According to his source, who you later found out to be the all-seeing Joshua Hong, ‘the assholes’ were already at the starting line, and you assumed they were responsible for the sudden blasting of music. “Race starts in ten minutes.”

“Is there anywhere for me to pee around here?” You at least wanted to go before the race started, you didn’t want to have to deal with the extra discomfort of a full bladder. “Don’t say a bush.”

“There’s some portable toilets down there.” Seokmin replied, jerking his thumb behind him.

“Who funds all this shit?” you spoke, mainly to yourself, as you walked in the direction he pointed at.

“You probably don’t want to know.” Jeonghan called after you, half-joking and half-serious.

For a brief moment, it seemed as if the toilet door was never going to open. You decided to give it one last push before you called one of the boys. The door opened, and you yelped when you felt it hit something, wincing when you heard someone yelp in pain.  

“Oh, shit! Sorry!” You peered your head around the door to see who you had hit. Half of his face was covered by the hand he had brought to his cheek, but you would recognise him anywhere. The leather jacket sat comfortably on his frame, as it always did. There was a slick comment on the tip of your tongue, but words failed you.

“It’s fine, seri-” Seungcheol stopped himself mid-sentence once you stepped out of the toilet, his lips remaining parted. He cocked his head to the side, his mouth eventually curling into a hesitant smile. “Never thought I’d see my favourite waitress at one of these races.”

“I don’t usually show up to these things.”

“I know, I would’ve spotted you. This doesn’t really seem like your scene, anyway.” This wasn’t how you would willingly spend your night, he could tell. He didn’t want to judge based on appearance, but it was hard not to, when you carried yourself the way you did. From the way you wore your hair, to the way you spoke, it seemed as if you were above all this. Or, at least, that you thought you were. That was the main reason he didn’t want you to know. 

“It’s not, but my friend races. One of his boys is racing tonight and he’s been begging me to come for ages, so,” you shrugged, letting the sentence hang in the air. Seungcheol’s eyes narrowed at your words.

“Your friend races?” He asked, eyebrows furrowed. “Who’s your friend?”

“Jeonghan. You know him?”

“You’re friends with Yoon Jeonghan?” There must have been something wrong with what you said, but you couldn’t figure out how your four words could have disturbed him to extent they did. Tracing your blank face, Seungcheol realised you were being genuine, and let out a bitter scoff. “You really have no idea about any of this racing stuff, do you?”

“Obviously not. All I know is there’s some group of guys that Jeonghan and the others can’t stand. They only refer to them as assholes.”

“The feeling’s mutual.”

“Huh?”

“I’m the asshole he hates, Y/N.” He shook his head. “Of course the girl I like is friends with Yoon fucking Jeonghan.” The venom with which he said Jeonghan’s name shocked you. Perhaps you should have taken Jeonghan’s rants about ‘the assholes’ more seriously. It was just racing to you, illegal racing that they did in their spare time, how much could they have really hated each other? “I’d get it if you want to call tomorrow off, or something.”

“What? If I want to go on a date with you, I’m going to go on a date with you.” You weren’t going to let whatever dick-measuring contest Jeonghan and Seungcheol had going on stop you from actually having some fun for once. “I guess I’ll just have to keep it quiet.”

It was in Seungcheol’s nature to be pessimistic, but when you looked at him the way you did, he was compelled to believe that this, whatever it was, would work.

“Kick his ass, Seokmin!” Jeonghan yelled, right when you made your way to the starting line. You had made it just in time before the race started, prompting Jeonghan to ask what had taken you so long. Your response about getting stuck in the cubicle was only a half-lie, but it seemed to satisfy his curiosity.

The race, you had to admit, was exhilarating to watch. Everything from the way your breath would catch in your throat whenever they turned a corner to the sound of the engines as they sped up was addicting. You understood why it drew the crowds it did, you understood why people who had no tie to the boys racing would still travel to this far out of the city to watch.  

The race came to a photo finish. While they certainly had the funds for portable toilets and crates of alcohol, they didn’t have Olympic-level cameras to determine which of the boys had arrived first. So, a second race was announced, for double the amount that was up for grabs that night. The date was yet to be put in place, but it would be within the next few months. You looked over to see Jeonghan roll his eyes at the announcement, ready to argue all night that Seokmin had won. Seungcheol’s reaction wasn’t too different, shaking his head vehemently.

You wondered how different your lives would be by the time the next race came around.

Despite your assurance, Seungcheol had convinced himself that you weren’t going to show up for the date. He had spent the night thinking over all possibilities – he had settled on the idea that you had spoken to Jeonghan after the race, and he had persuaded you to not come. It was only five minutes past the hour, but every minute that you were late added an extra ten beats to his resting heart rate.

Just as he prepared to leave, you placed a hand on his shoulder, apologising for being late. He brought you in to a short embrace, letting out a deep breath as he greeted you.

“You’re not wired or anything, are you?” That was one of the several scenarios he had come up with in his struggle to fall asleep the night before, and he had ranked it as the second most likely.  

“Shut up, of course not.” His face relaxed at your denial, which you chose not to comment on, instead following him silently into the building.

“So, what’s riding on this?” Seungcheol stood with his feet apart, eyes scanning the course before you. You were grateful for the fact he had taken you to mini-golf for your first date, a far cry from the boring dinner dates you were used to. In your experience, they seemed to have too much expectation placed upon them, and it made things awkward. Conversation was tedious, movements were stiff, and the general atmosphere was uncomfortable. Mini-golf, or any physical activity, was a far cry from this. It encouraged fun in a light environment, allowing you to be yourself.

“Oh, you wanna make a bet?” You clicked your tongue against your teeth. “How about, whoever loses has to do whatever the other person wants them to do.”

“For how long?”

“I’ll decide that after I win.”

The two of you began to play after your fighting words, finding yourself at the first hole. Gentleman wasn’t the first word you’d use to describe him, but Seungcheol did let you go first. He stood back, one of his feet behind the other, and watched as you gently rocked the golf club back and forth.

“You should move your right hand a little higher.”

“I know how to hold a golf club.”

“No, seriously! Just a little higher, and it’d be perfect. Let me show you.” Before you could protest, not that you were planning to, he stepped over and stood behind you. He had been outside waiting for you, but he still radiated so much warmth. He brought his arms around you, bringing his right hand to your right wrist and resting his left hand on your left forearm, leaning in to you as he did it. Your back was pressed firmly against his torso. Your skin prickled where he touched you, sending jolts of heat through your veins. Until last night, the two of you had always been separated by a counter – never before had he gotten this close.

You relaxed your grip in order to allow him to move your hand higher up the golf club, his palm soft against your skin. The feeling of his breath against your neck had your chest tightening. When he stood back, body heat leaving with him, he gave you a thumbs up.

“Was that meant to throw me off?”

“What?”

“Nothing.” You blinked.

Seungcheol regretted improving your grip on the golf club as soon as you compared score sheets and realised that you had won. His face was coated in a bright shade of red as your head tilted back in laughter, the sound filling the room and drawing startled looks from those around you. It was then that he realised how at ease he had felt with you. His nerves, which were admittedly a product of his own over-thinking, had completely dissipated as soon as you had arrived. There was no false bravado, no determination to impress you, your presence allowed him to just be.

“Alright, alright.” He put a hand on his hip. “What’s the first thing you want me to do?” You pressed a finger into your chin, deciding it was you turn to play his game. His eyes, which had been watching you expectantly, widened in shock when you put a hand around the back of his neck and gently eased him in closer. Face now mere inches from yours, he simply waited for your command. You leaned in to his ear, making sure your lips brushed gently against his earlobe as you spoke.

“Carry me to your car.” You laughed again, pulling away from him and waiting for him to do just as you ordered. He was visibly bewildered for a second, but quick to comply. He picked you up and carried you bridal style out of the building and through the car park. He set you down so that you were resting against his car, and his hands found their way to your hips as he steadied you. The tension between the two of you was unbearable, and you found your gaze flickering down at his lips in want.

“Didn’t I tell you that was distracting?”

“Get used to it.” With your hand finding its way to the back of his neck for the second time in ten minutes, he leaned closer to you. There was a brief moment’s hesitation where Seungcheol’s eyes found yours, as if asking if you really wanted this, as if a kiss would seal your fate and there would be no turning back. His lips pecked yours gently at first, savouring his first taste of you. It was you who initiated the next kiss, pressing harder against him.

Remembering you were in a very public car park, and not even inside his car, you pulled away. His face was decorated with a smile that he was trying hard to fight, which you simply found adorable.

“I’ve wanted to do that for ages.”

Six weeks of hand-holding, late night phone calls and spontaneous dates had you thinking of Seungcheol as more than just a guy you were ‘seeing’. That was the way you referred to him when talking to friends, especially to Jeonghan, but it didn’t quite ring true anymore. It couldn’t possibly be accurate after nights where you’d curl into his chest to fall asleep, when his fingers would trace shapes across your back and place kisses across your forehead.

Conversation flowed naturally, but there was a topic you didn’t touch. Racing was the elephant in the room, lurking behind you at all times. It was an unspoken agreement that you wouldn’t go there, you were both afraid. Whatever it was that the two of you shared was far from sustainable, it was a ticking time-bomb.

“Why do you do it?” you finally had the courage to ask him. It was late in the evening, the sun in the process of setting and painting you in shades of orange. The two of you had visited the park, finding yourself gently rocking back and forth on the swings. Your feet were barely above the ground. “Race, I mean.”

“The money ain’t too bad.” He chuckled, eyes focusing on something, or nothing, in the distance as he pondered your question. “I’ve never really tried putting it into words before. It’s something I’m good at, I like how it makes me feel. The high after you win is, fuck, it’s amazing. The adrenaline’s addicting, you know? When there’s butterflies in your stomach, and the rush rips through you. Kind of like when you go super high up on a swing, but better.”

“You always come back down from a swing, though.” That was all you had said, but you both knew what you were implying. The rest of the sentence was fixed in the air – there might be a day you don’t come back from a race. “Can I come to the garage one day?”

“If that’s what you want.”

“So this is where you spend all your time, huh?” The garage looked exactly how you pictured it, you thought you’d hear a rendition of ‘Greased Lightening’ as soon as you walked in. The walls were an almost blinding white, hidden only by mounted shelves on which countless tools rested. There were a few blotches of oil stains on the ground, you wondered how long they’d been there.

“Yep, my sanctuary.” The look on Seungcheol’s face was one of pride as he tugged at the ends of the towel around his neck, simply looking over the garage. It was just the two of you, with the other boys being busy – Seungcheol knew this, which is why he was ready to bring you over. “That’s our best one.” He pointed towards a car you had just ran a delicate finger over the hood of.

“Really?” Seungcheol nodded, launching into a passionate rave about all of the car’s features, and how much he loved driving it. You didn’t understand half of what he was saying, but it was important to him and that was what you really appreciated. The confusion must have been written on your face, because he paused to stop himself, shaking his head.

“I’m talking too much, aren’t I?”

“No, don’t say that! You’re making me want this car.” You grinned at him, lowering your hand to open the door and settling yourself into the driver’s seat. You ran your hands around the steering wheel, before wrapping your fingers around it tightly, as if you were actually going to drive it. Being in the car gave you a better idea of what he was talking about when he described driving, it would be silly to pretend there wasn’t something exciting about it. “I feel like a badass.”

“You look like one.” He had followed you into the car, sitting next to you in shotgun. “Is it weird that you sitting behind the wheel is a turn-on?” His hand had travelled to your thigh, fingers digging into your skin as he gave it a squeeze. It was amazing how quickly you turned putty in his hands.

“It’d be weirder if it wasn’t.” You breathed.  Hands dropping from the wheel, you surrendered to his touch as he pulled you onto his lap. Within seconds, your lips were on each other’s, the kisses a far cry from the soft one he had given you on your first date. Desire burned in the pit of your stomach, driving you to kiss him even deeper. A hand rested on his chest as his hands delved underneath your shirt. You grinded into him in response, letting out a whimper when he began to place kisses on your neck. You knew from experience that car sex wasn’t the most comfortable, but logic was the last thing you relied on when his fingers danced against you the way they did. When your phone buzzed in your back pocket, he told you to ignore it, as if you planned on doing anything else.

A knock on the window startled you, putting things on pause. You jumped. The car wasn’t the biggest, and you ended up hitting your head on the roof. Seungcheol brought a hand to the back of your head, rubbing it as you yelped in pain.

“What the fuck, Wonwoo?” Seungcheol asked. You slid off of Seungcheol and into the driver’s seat once more, hoping Wonwoo didn’t recognise you. None of the other boys had known about you and Seungcheol – your entire relationship was clouded in secrecy.  

“It’s not like I wanted to see any of that! I just came here to tell you they confirmed the date for the next race, it’s in two weeks.”

“That’s soon.” It was the only response Seungcheol could muster, thanks to a mixture of the circumstances in which Wonwoo found you and genuine shock at the race coming up in merely a fortnight. Seungcheol sat back in his seat as Wonwoo walked away. You had pulled out your phone while the boys were talking, seeing that it was Jeonghan who texted you.

Jeonghan [17:42] they just announced when the next race is!! u wanna come and watch?

Jeonghan [17:42] also we haven’t hung out properly in ages where the hell have u been

Jeonghan was intent on being the one to represent his team at the next race. You remembered him telling you at the afterparty, vowing to embarrass whoever was up against him. That was the last he had mentioned of the race, transforming back into the social butterfly he was and celebrating for the rest of the night as if Seokmin had won.

“Will you be racing?” your voice was quiet.

“Yeah, probably.” You didn’t know why he tried to make it seem like he wasn’t sure, you could hear the determination in Seungcheol’s voice. It was the same one you heard in Jeonghan’s.

“Don’t say ‘probably’, I know you’re racing.” The words were harsh, flying out of your mouth before you could filter them.

“Then why’d you ask?”

That feeling in your gut, one which had evaded you since the night of Seokmin’s race, had returned. It told you that things were going to fall apart in two weeks.

Two weeks was generous. In fact, only half that amount of time had passed when Seungcheol got a frantic call from Jihoon to get to the garage. There was no choice but for you to go with him, the agitation in Jihoon’s voice was so discerning to the point that Seungcheol decided he’d answer questions about the two of you later. You struggled to keep up with his brisk walk, and if it weren’t for him taking your hand in his you would’ve fallen behind.

“What happened?” Seungcheol asked. Jihoon was waiting for the two of you at the front of the garage. There was a brief moment where his eyes fell on you, narrowing ever-so-slightly as he registered your presence. The moment came as quickly as it went, he turned back to Seungcheol as if you weren’t there at all.

“Just take a look at this shit.” Following him into the garage, it quickly became clear that there had been an invasion. The tools, which were usually safe on the shelves, were spread out across the floor. There were more than a few oil stains on the ground, but by far the most offensive thing was what had happened to their best car. There was a huge crack in the windshield, spreading across the entire surface. A flurry of curses flew from Seungcheol’s mouth, a distressed hand ran through his hair. “Pretty fucking obvious who did it, too.”

You moved towards Seungcheol, running a hand up and down his arm in an attempt to soothe him. He pulled away from you, taking a second before turning to face you directly. 

“Did you know about this?” You almost didn’t recognise his voice, it was so cold and distant. It was hard to believe that this was the same voice that had slurred to you that he wanted you to be his girlfriend, the drunken voice that had confessed he didn’t want to hide you anymore.

“Are you serious?” His silence made your blood boil. He simply stared at you, waiting for your response. The laughter that rose from your throat was bitter – no, it was angry. “You think I had something to do with this?”

“Did you?”

“No, you idiot! I can’t believe you think I’d-” Stopping yourself mid-sentence, you decided it wasn’t worth it. If you spoke any longer, your voice would crack, and the tears that you knew were building up would fall. You stormed out of the garage, pushing past Jihoon on the way.

“I’m pissed off with you.”

“Good evening?” Jeonghan raised an eyebrow, his head turning to watch as you barged into his apartment. Leaning against a wall, you crossed your arms and took in a deep breath. Jeonghan had seen you angry before, but never at him. Usually, he was the one comforting you. “Seriously, though, what’d I do?”

“You know what you did, Jeonghan. You know what you did to his garage, you trashed the place!” Jeonghan cocked his head to the side, all hints of flippancy fell from his face immediately.

“How do you know about any of that?” Your face dropped. The anger had clouded your head, the implications of what you had said only become apparent thanks to Jeonghan’s question. You swallowed, not knowing where to begin. “Y/N?” You closed your eyes, throwing your head back in exasperation.

“You’re gonna hate me.” You waited for his words, some assurance that of course he could never hate you – but they didn’t come. “Seungcheol’s the guy I’ve been seeing. I was with him when he saw what happened at the garage.” Jeonghan’s lips parted before closing, the cogs in his head still turning.

“When were you gonna tell me? You know I’m racing him next week, right?”

“God, Jeonghan, I don’t know. I didn’t think about any of this, I just-”

“When did you find out who he was?” Jeonghan cut you off. The irony of you showing up to berate Jeonghan for his actions only for the situation to be flipped on its head was not lost on you at all. It was almost amusing, if not for the fact you were at risk of losing a friend.

“The night of Seokmin’s race. We’d already agreed to go on a date by that point and-”

“And you went, knowing who he was.” He shrugged. Loud and foul-mouthed as he was, Jeonghan was far more diplomatic than you were. He wasn’t going to yell and shout, he had an unrivalled ability to just walk away from a situation. “Well, you made your decision.”

“Come on, don’t be like this.”

“Also,” Jeonghan continued as if you hadn’t said anything. “Not that I need to defend myself to you, but I didn’t trash his garage. I didn’t stop it, but I didn’t do it.” He shot a pointed look towards his door. “You can leave now.”

Perhaps you deserved his harshness.

Seungcheol [23:17] fuck

Seungcheol [23:17] im sorry for what i said i shouldnt have blamed u

Seungcheol [23:18] please pick up the phone

You left the texts unread for the rest of the week, only having the balls to open them when the night of the final race arrived. There was part of you that wanted to go, perhaps to sit and watch from a distance, but you knew that wasn’t feasible. Instead you were curled on your couch, thumb hovering over the ‘send’ button, eyes reading and rereading the text you had written out. It was a mere three words – good luck tonight – but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

The ringing of your doorbell brought you back down to Earth. It was ridiculous, and you were never going to admit this out loud, but part of you wished the sound had shocked you enough to make you accidentally press send on the text. Instead, you quickly deleted it and made your way to the door. It was Seungcheol standing on the other side of the door, which made no sense considering the race should have been starting soon. Strands of dark hair partly covered his eyes, and you suppressed the urge to brush them out of the way.

“Cheol? What the hell are you doing here, doesn’t the race start soon?” Throwing a half-hearted hand into the air, he shrugged. His nonchalance only confused you further.

“Well, I’m here.” He didn’t know if his actions were driven by a misplaced optimism or pure idiocy, but he knew he didn’t regret where he was standing. He didn’t decide to skip out on the race until that morning, he honestly didn’t think he’d have the guts to do it.

“You can’t just walk away from the race, it’s all you’ve been thinking about for two months!”

“Aren’t you the one always reminding me how dangerous it is?”

“But it’s important to you.”

“So are you.” At a loss for words, you simply stepped to the side and allowed him space to enter your apartment. Every step on the short walk to your main room felt heavier than the last. You occupied one end of the couch, Seungcheol the other. “I’m sorry for how I reacted at the garage, it was stupid.”

“I’ve never given you a reason not to trust me.”

“I know, that’s why it was stupid. I can be really paranoid, well, I am really paranoid.  Do you know how nervous I was before our first date? I convinced myself this was all some plot to get to me before the race, I couldn’t fathom that you would actually want to spend time with me outside of the diner. Even still, I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions like that. We’re all so caught up in this dumb rivalry, but none of it even matters in the real world.” He paused, eyes cast downwards. “I’ve done a lot of thinking over the past week, if you couldn’t tell.” This, at least, got you to smile.

“Yeah, I noticed.”

“I still love racing, I always will. I don’t love the bullshit politics, though. I mean, look what’s it done to you. I don’t want you to have to choose between me and your friends, it shouldn’t have to be that way.”

“Jeonghan hasn’t spoken to me for a week – I think the choice has been made for me.” Your laugh was humourless, your smile tired. The sight saddened Seungcheol, he felt responsible.

“I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but you should call him.” He winced as if the words literally hurt to say. His contempt towards Jeonghan wasn’t going to go away overnight – or perhaps ever – but he understood what made you happy, just like you understood how racing made him happy. Seeing the reservation on your face as you moved to make the call, Seungcheol scooted over and placed a comforting hand on your knee.

The mixture of music and loud talking almost drowned out Jeonghan’s greeting. It was curt, but you were glad he even picked up.  

“Hey,” you looked over to Seungcheol, who urged you to keep going. “Are you free to talk right now? I just – I wanted to talk about everything.” You scolded yourself internally, it clearly wasn’t the best time for a heart-to-heart. The background noise was a dead give-away that he was at a party. He didn’t respond straight away, but you could hear that he was moving through the party, until the music and conversation were merely faint background noise. He sighed.

“if we’re gonna talk, we should do it in person. You can come through now if you want, you know you’re always invited to my parties.” You hesitated, once again finding your eyes landing on Seungcheol, who was now pretending not to listen – you could tell because he stopped scrolling through his phone when you stopped talking.

“I-I can’t.”

“Are you with him?”

“Yeah.”

“Is that why he didn’t show up for the race?”

“I guess so?”

“You know I won automatically, right? The money’s all mine.” 

“Oh.” Your voice was small, not realising the ramifications of Seungcheol’s decision – you assumed that someone would have raced in his place. You raised an eyebrow at the boy sat next to you, realising everything he had risked to be sat on your couch, pretending to be on his phone. Not only did he walk away from a massive prize, but the other boys were going to be so mad with him. “I had no idea. Congratulations.”

“Ugh, that asshole really makes you happy, huh?”

“He does.” For the first time since Jeonghan picked up the phone, you smiled.

“Enjoy your night, then.” Jeonghan didn’t expect to ever find himself saying those words, but it was hard to let anything get you down after winning a grand sum of money. “We can talk tomorrow.” Relief washed over you as you let out a breath, all nerves in that moment were replaced with a surge of energy. You said goodbye to Jeonghan, promising to visit him the next day.

“Choi Seungcheol.” You spoke, demanding his attention. He looked up from his phone, eyes wide and expectant. “I didn’t know you automatically lost the race because you didn’t show up! Why would you do that?”

“The way I see it, I could have either won the race and got a bunch of money that I didn’t need, or I could’ve come here and fixed things with you.” You bit down on your lip to fight back a smile. He was a sweet-talker, but you knew he meant every word he said.

“Who said things were fixed?”

“Are they not?” Reaching over, you grabbed two fistfuls of his shirt. You brushed your lips against his in a slow and soft kiss, basking in the rawness as your lips moved with each other. When you pulled away, you giggled against him.

“You have to take me out for dinner first, duh.”

“Anything you want.” 

[deadcactuswalking]

REVIEWING THE CHARTS: 06/03/2021 ("BED”, Digga D, Kali Uchis)

It’s finally a really short filler week on the UK Singles Chart but not one without its importance as we’ve got some real interesting stuff to talk about this week, even if there are only six new arrivals. Olivia Rodrigo’s “drivers license” is at #1, and whilst I may not be able to post this on Twitter because I’ve been locked out – don’t ask why – this is still REVIEWING THE CHARTS.

Rundown

So, a lot of our debuts are gone, including “test drive” by Ariana Grande as well as other bigger hits dropping out of the UK Top 75 – which is what I cover – including “Burner on Deck” by Fredo featuring the late Pop Smoke and Young Adz, “i miss u” by Jax Jones and Au/Ra, Taylor Swift’s re-recorded “Love Story”, “Before You Go” by Lewis Capaldi, “Shallow” by Lady Gaga and Bradley Cooper and “Perfect” by Ed Sheeran. There are also a handful of fallers across the chart like Fredo’s continued drops as “Money Talks” with Dave is at #28, “Let’s Go Home Together” by Ella Henderson and Tom Grennan off of the debut to #34, “Love Not War (The Tampa Beat)” by Jason Derulo and Nuka at #36, “34+35” by Ariana Grande at #40, “Good Days” by SZA dropping hard with the streaming cut down to #46, “Mixed Emotions” by Abra Cadabra at #54, “Watermelon Sugar” by Harry Styles at #60, “Didn’t Know” by Tom Zanetti off of the debut to #68, “Siberia” by Headie One featuring Burna Boy at #71 and “willow” by Taylor Swift at #72. What’s probably more interesting are our gains and returning entries, as for returns, we’ve got “ROCKSTAR” by DaBaby featuring Roddy RIcch back at #75, Wilkinson’s 2013 drum and bass track “Afterglow” featuring uncredited vocals from Becky Hill back at #74 for whatever reason, “Higher” by Clean Bandit featuring iann dior at #70 and “Goodbye” by Imanbek and Goodboys coming back strong at #59. Our gains are also pretty unique, as we have some second winds for “Looking for Me” by Paul Woolford, Diplo and Kareen Lomax at #67, “Loading” by Central Cee at #61 and “Roses” by SAINt JHN and remixed by Imanbek at #55. We also have a handful of climbers within the top 40, like “All You Ever Wanted” by Rag’n’Bone Man surging up to #33 off of the debut, which I’m pretty happy about as it’s a really good song. I’m less over the moon about “Little Bit of Love” by Tom Grennan at #27, “Believe Me” by Navos at #25 and finally, “My Head & My Heart” by Ava Max up to #19. There’s not much movement above that however, so let’s get into our new arrivals, starting with something I didn’t think I see here this soon.

NEW ARRIVALS

#65 – “SugarCrash!” – ElyOtto

Produced by ElyOtto

I love doing this show because I find out more about genres I’d usually tend to avoid. I’m not the most knowledgeable person about Afroswing or really, a lot of the house that ends up charting on the UK Singles Chart. I think I know my fair bit about at least the mainstream of a lot of the UK drill stuff, but what I really would consider myself somewhat specialised in is hyperpop. I’m probably too old to enjoy any of it as much as I do but that may just be why I have a connection to this overly online, digital scene of SoundCloud producers and rappers making pretty obnoxiously mid-2000s-influenced electropop, as it really does feel like a retreat to a simpler time with all of the angst of the emo-pop being made around the same time. The hyperpop scene and bubblegum bass as a whole has always felt inclusive, which I think is one of the main reasons why it’s big with teenagers nowadays, because there really isn’t much of a limit in the genre or at least the scope that we’ve found as of yet, whether it be integrating elements of ‘hexd’ or brostep or trance or what have you. Whilst companies may want us to be nostalgic for the 1990s, I think most people are taking a couple steps forward here, and it’s creating some genuinely great music – some of the time, at least. Hyperpop has birthed many SoundCloud-based sub-genres, or I guess micro-genres, including one of which being glitchcore, a glitchier, more off-the-wall brand of cloud rap with a lot of high-energy trap production and nightcore-esque pitch-shifting. I see some brands of infighting amongst people who listen to hyperpop and glitchcore seeing as glitchcore has arguably taken off a bit faster than other more electronic or pop-focused scenes, but I see that as evolution of a scene more than anything. 100 gecs sounds nothing like A.G. Cook, anyway, it’s pointless gate-keeping at this point, especially when TikTok gets their hands on this random kid from Canada. In a genre full of pioneers, this young Canadian guy’s debut single is what gains traction and for what it’s worth I’m happy for the guy but I’m not a fan of the song at all. This does feel like a parody if anything, with its fast-paced gecs impression and admittedly pretty ethereal synth patterns pretty drowned out by lightweight trap percussion and this ElyOtto guy who really isn’t a presence at all, especially if he’s going to pitch himself down and further into the instrumental on the outro... of a song that’s already only one minute and 20 seconds yet runs through two choruses and a verse, of which nothing really is said of substance. People like blackwinterwells and osquinn make similar music especially in terms of lyrical content but there is something to be said about their honesty and somewhat paranoid tones that creep in, whilst there’s nothing really emotionally convincing about this guy’s delivery or content, as while he may make the same semi-ironic references to self-harm, pain medication and Gen Z culture as they do, he doesn’t really have any tact and it feels overly self-aware to the point where I refuse to believe anyone outside of ElyOtto can really enjoy it fully. It makes perfect sense that this started off as a “short soundfont test” and really, it probably should have stayed that way. There’s a lot to be enjoyed in hyperpop but if this isn’t a satire and is a genuine attempt at approaching the scene, I’d be genuinely surprised. That said, his song “TEETH!” is legitimately good with the exact same length, so maybe I’m just full of it. Either way, I’m not a fan. Sorry.

#56 – “AP” – Pop Smoke

Produced by 808Melo and Rico Beats

Another posthumous Pop Smoke single, except this was actually recorded well before his death and probably finished before to boot, as it’s attached to a film, Boogie, that he will actually star in. With 808Melo on production, it’s guaranteed to have at least some hard-hitting drill production and, yeah, I mean, it’s fine. It’s got a pretty eerie vocal sample behind all the murderous lyrics and pretty busy drill percussion with some great 808s, even if it and the sample feels a bit too loud in the mix when Pop Smoke’s rich voice feels buried. It’s just gunplay, really, and a bit of flexing and references to his older songs, as he makes a call and it’s war and he’s off that Adderall. It’s sad that from now on, any material we get from Pop Smoke will be his leftovers and throwaways. That said, this is fine, perhaps a bit too long, and it could be worse – I mean, it originally leaked with a Rich the Kid verse, it REALLY could have been worse. Once again, RIP Pop Smoke and I hope 808Melo gets his YouTube channel back if he hasn’t already.

#50 – “Pierre” – Ryn Weaver

Produced by benny blanco, Ryan Tedder and Michael Angelakos

The UK Singles Chart is changing, and I think that’s what makes this such an interesting week as there is genuinely some stuff here we’ve never seen debut on the chart before – or anything like it – and that’s exciting to me. You probably know Ryn Weaver from “OctaHate”, a brief 2014 viral pop song written by Charli XCX and produced by Cashmere Cat that led to a debut album the next year and thanks to presumably TikTok, a deep cut from said album has now debuted in the top 50. Now I hadn’t heard of her before looking at the chart about an hour ago, so I can’t tell you much of anything at all about the California singer. I’m not really a fan of “OctaHate” but I do have a fondness for that janky electropop production from the mid-2010s – “Gold” by Kiiara is a hill I’d die on – so with production from Michael Angelakos of Passion Pit, I’d hoped “Pierre” would be pretty cool and, yeah, it’s pretty odd, actually. It seems like a pretty ballad but with a very fast-paced, raspy delivery from Weaver and some choppy production that soon tenses in the chorus and I’ve got to say, while I’m not 100% on the mixing, I can get behind the concept here, especially with some multi-tracked vocals from Weaver. The song itself is about trying to run away from her feelings for a lover that never really went away, particularly as she hooks up later with a man called Pierre who speaks in broken English, which gives a lot of reason for the tense pace of the song, even if that is undercut by the production being muddy and awfully willing to kill its momentum in the outro as there’s never really a proper climax. That said, it’s fitting for that final line, “I’ll come around”, which can be interpreted as about moving on or complacency – just coming back to that guy after years of searching for someone else. I do like this – or at least what it’s trying to do – but I feel like it’d enjoy it more with less clutter, particularly in that chorus, which could really elevate this but as it is, it’s fine.

#45 – “telepatía” – Kali Uchis

Produced by Albert Hype, Manuel Lara and Tainy

Okay, so alt-pop all the way from Latin America, that’s also a first... except not really, as ROSALÍA has charted before, if only off of the back of Billie Eilish. Regardless, this is a really high debut for a global hit from Colombian-American critical darling Kali Uchis, someone I’m always glad to hear from. Admittedly I did not check out that last project that was a return to a lot of the Latin American music, including reggaeton, she took early influence from. That debut studio album is mostly an English-language neo-soul record so I appreciate the risks taken, even if I personally didn’t check it out. I probably should though, because this bilingual streaming success “telepatía”, is pretty damn smooth with some of the signature fuzzy keys you’d hear from any Kali Uchis song, somewhat reminiscent of Tyler, The Creator in all of the elegant piano ambiance and soul drums that cut the line thin between live and programmed, but sound quite either way. I especially love the flushes of Latin guitar in the chorus but really, Uchis’ silky voice is what shines here, especially in the subtle, seductive double-tracking and how smoothly it switches from Spanish to English. It’s not perfect, I mean, the transition from chorus to second verse and back again is somewhat awkward, and it does feel like it runs a little short. I was honestly expecting a guitar solo or something but we get very little of anything after that final chorus. Given that I know Tainy mostly from his work with J Balvin – and I’ll admit, also mostly from his work on the Sponge on the Run soundtrack – I’m pretty pleasantly surprised with how this has meshed together and I do really hope this sticks around.

#23 – “Bluuwuu” – Digga D

Produced by Glvck

We didn’t get an album bomb from Digga D, bless the Lord, but we did get this one single and... do American rappers make genuine death threats on their top 40 singles? Just wondering, because this has several references to rival gang members and how he’s going to hurt them in one way or another. That would be fine if it were convincing, but this guy really isn’t, especially if he’s going to do the silly “bluuwuu” ad-lib in the chorus over one of the least interesting drill beats I’ve ever heard. The 808s don’t slide notably, the percussion is like a template and there isn’t any energy to this... which is fine, because it’s very much just about gang violence, half of it censored. That said, it crosses the line from intriguing detail to possibly too detailed in a way that’s just unwarranted over a boring beat and with the tendency to go off-topic with his flexing ever so often. I’d probably rather listen to the posthumous Pop Smoke single over this if I had to choose, at least that beat is, you know, good.

#20 – “BED” – Joel Corry, RAYE and David Guetta

Produced by Giorgio Tiunfort, New Levels, David Guetta and Joel Corry

I thought these guys were literally famous for just being producers, why does a song by two producers need two extra producers and if it really needs them, why aren’t they given a lead artist credit as well? Oh, right: name recognition, even though neither Corry or Guetta have ever made anything worth recognising. This song with RAYE, personality-void guest singer, relies on the line, “I got a bed, but I’d rather be in yours tonight”, because it’s a sex jam in one way or another, even though there are no stakes to that chorus line at all. Yes, I know RAYE has a bed; she probably sleeps very comfortably on it. She probably bought it from Premier Inn. Maybe they were having a sale. There’s no point in clarifying that you have a bed – in fact, a more interesting lyrical turn would to maybe bring some stakes into it by saying that RAYE does not in fact have a home, and the intimacy with unnamed man keeps her afloat in times of hardship. This is really just me stalling because this may be our highest debut but that does not mean it’s worth talking about. “BED” doesn’t really do much more than it’s supposed to. It’s got some vaguely 90s keys, fake hand-claps, a checked-out performance from RAYE and an anti-climactic deep house drop. Do you care? Does that description make you want to hear it? It’s not a negative critique, it’s an unbiased description of what happens. Are you intrigued with that? Do you want to check this out? This’ll go top 10 next week because of the music video, but God, this is just soulless, and that’s coming from someone who talks almost purely about the pop charts. I do like the post-chorus vocal melody for what it’s worth, but, yeah, no, I don’t care.

Conclusion

I don’t even care enough to give it Worst of the Week, as that’s going to “SugarCrash!” by ElyOtto with a Dishonourable Mention for Digga D’s “Bluuwuu”. Best of the Week should be obvious as Kali Uchis�� “telepatía” is the only good song here, but the Honourable Mention I guess goes to the late Pop Smoke for “AP”, even if that’s mostly because of 808Melo on the production. Here’s this week’s top 10:

I predict a lot will change next week, as we’ve got new songs from Justin Bieber, James Arthur, Bruno Mars (with Anderson .Paak!) and an EP from Drake... follow me on Twitter @cactusinthebank if you want in the event that I can use that again, and I’ll see you next week for that snoozefest.

[jourdcns-blog]

hold on a second — is that LAURA HARRIER i saw working on the sunny bay ship recently? oh wait, i was mistaken as it was actually JOURDAN DYER, a CISFEMALE who is TWENTY-TWO years old and is an intern as a KIDS ENTERTAINER. i heard when they’re not on the ship they’re studying DOCUMENTARY JOURNALISM which sounds pretty awesome! they are often described by their friends as CLEVER and COMPASSIONATE but also FACILE and RETICENT which means they are often labelled as THE HALCYON. i can’t wait to see what they have to offer on the ship!

HELLOOOOOO new friends!! i’m bay and according to buzzfeed i’m ‘random girl steve harrington’ described as ‘you don’t know how you got here, but you’re ready to throw down’ and surprisingly that’s.... accurate!! anyway! lemme introduce you to jourdan (aka lemme copy/paste a bunch of nonsense i already typed up). you dON’T HAVE TO READ ALL OF IT OKAY I JUST HAVE 000 SELF CONTROL

B A S I C S : 

full name: jourdan emilia dyer

birthday: october 31st

likes: paper print, coffee, early mornings, dogs, the ocean, literature, basketball, tall socks, big sweatshirts, spring, bees, old stories, photography, national geographic, netflix, shopping on amazon prime, heated blankets, smoothies not milkshakes, rain, bonfires, sunflowers, dirt roads, fog, magic hour, witching hour, the ocean, chicago

dislikes: messy closets, spiders, wind, sandstorms, movies about sharks, ants, telephone towers, cornfields, rush hour traffic, delayed trains, basically being late, horror films, the hallmark channel, golf, math

jourdan aesthetics: overalls and old destination t-shirts, polaroid cameras–– the big ugly ones that aren’t cute and pastel, glitter freckles, sun tea, sunflowers, worn out converse, the smell of rain, natural hair, freshly cleaned sheets on a freshly made bed, long runs, old encyclopedias, ribbon, green grass, sunsets at 9pm, orange juice, murals, homemade vanilla ice-cream, sugary scented lotion, doodles in the margins of a book, color-sorted closets, bullet journals, rose gold, obnoxiously loud laughter

clever: jourdan is book smart, that can be seen on her transcripts, but she’s also very quick on her feet and good with words. she’s able to read people and situations, assess, and then choose the best actions for the best outcomes, and this cleverness is what makes her such a damn good journalist. it’s not a traditional kind of smart; it’s innovative and adaptable.

compassionate: jourdan loves people. loves people. she’s easy to get along with and has a knack for making people feel comfortable around her right off the bat, and that’s because she’s truly got a big heart. she cares about the well being of people, not because it benefits her in anyway but because she just genuinely cares. even if that means her friends label her the mom friend™.

facile: she’s easily taken advantage of, however, because she isn’t one to cause conflict face-to-face. she’s got a fear of rocking the boat which hinders her in her career, and it’s something she’s working on. her trusting nature and desire to make everyone happy makes her a pushover at times, which is frustrating for her and others.

reticent: she throws herself into making sure others are feeling okay because she doesn’t particularly like to face or reveal her own feelings. it’s always something with jourdan, whether it be ‘there are bigger problems’ or ‘I just don’t have the energy to discuss it right now’. because of this struggle to open up, a lot of her relationships are simply surface level, skin deep. very few get past that which makes for a relatively lonely life. 

jourdan’s specialty id with people, pens, and paper. her interest in journalism began when she was young, forever interested in the boston globe’s spotlight team. her father gave her her first camera at the age of thirteen, and she was the only freshman on her high school’s newspaper writing staff. her love of journalism, documentary journalism to be specific, led her to northwestern university where she studies the craft and continues to push herself.

she’s adventurous, but she isn’t interested in being the face of a news station. she wants to be in the field with a notebook and her camera, living in her location and developing long stories over time. while her heart lies in the humanitarian subjects, she does have a selfish dream of being a travel journalist, hence her current internship. college is the time to be selfish, she reassured herself, so it’s okay to spend some time on a cruise ship before assignments send her to the grittier places around the world.

her thoughts are constantly running a million miles a minute, so her head is often times very scattered, and because she can’t control that curious thought process she has, she resorts to being very type-A with everything else. her notes, her room, her suitcases, and even the way she present herself are tidy and ‘perfect’.

she’s got some issues when it comes to dealing with her own problems, and she doesn’t really deal with them. instead she kind of throws herself into whatever project she’s currently working on. she was brought up to know that nothing comes without hard work, so she’s pretty relentless when it comes to stuff.

on the cruise, she’s really out looking for adventure. she wants to get a few of her own stories in before dedicating her life to the stories of others.

H I S T O R Y :

i’m not going to make you guys read everything so here’s the important bits: she grew up in the boston area, never knew her mom. she lived with her grandparents, her father, and two older brothers. dad was boston chief of police and grandparents ran a family restaurant. her dad passed away when she was 15, and her grandparents became her legal guardians. her brothers are both older, and they’re all in different parts of the country now!! uhhh yeah family is big in jourdan’s book, and if you want to read more about her past click here!

WANTED CONNECTIONS: THE   U S U A L

childhood friends

roommates, whether it be on the ship or back at school!!

ride or die bffs

a sort of ~bad influence~ 

all the exes: good terms, bad terms, first love, childhood crushes... i love fluff. i love angst. whatever ur lil heart desires, mind prob does too

frenemies !!!

that late night, talking about the world and dreams, sitting on the deck and looking @ the stars friendship

so close you might as well be related

will they, won’t they

work buds !!

summer fling, and that’s ‘literally all it is’

bantering bffs like sarcastic as hell, kinda rude, but i’d die for u kinda thing

the confidant

i’m sure there’s a million more and i’m really best and building plots so !!!!! come @ me!!!

UH YEAH OKAY SO!!! that’s my kid.... hope u guys like her!! like this or IM me for plots/tentative connections bc i am READYYYYYYYYYYY 

[sevensity]

RFA/Minor Trio and MC as the World’s Greatest Detective

So originally I wrote this for @makosharkies but then Tumblr just tossed it  away why u play me like dis?

This is written for a super detective who hides behind a fake name, like L aka Ryuzaki aka best sad alien man boy of all time. She chooses to confide her secret to the RFA because???? The power of friendship prevails all!!!11

  YOOᔕᑌᑎG:

As soon as you tell him your alias, he’s like wait what?

You mean that super famous detective who’s been solving decade-long cases?

Is worried that being the world’s greatest detective means you’ll somehow get your hands on his browser history so he has a mini heart-attack

But other than that, is super excited to try out your skills, so he’ll often come up to you and ask all sorts of questions that you have to guess i.e “MC what did I eat for supper last night?” “Fettuccini Alfredo and a Caesar salad.” “Oh my god! You really are a genius!” “Yoosung pls we had dinner together.”

Anyways, you answer all his questions right

Yoosung’s admiration level is over 9000 (wow I’m so funny)

He starts reading mystery novels, has difficulty understanding how the crimes happened and how they were solved, but the boy is trying okay

Falls in love with Agatha Christie, and gushes to you about how intricate the murders are, and how cool Monsieur Poirot is, and you just patiently listen to him go on and on because gosh darn the boy is cute

But of course keeps reminding you that you’re the most amazing of all

Yoosung gets a Sherlock hat and parades around his apartment wearing it, plus it’s honestly the best thing to witness cuz the ear flaps bounce up and down as he runs around you, making him look like an actual puppy

Yoosung come here I want to pet you forever

  ᒍᑌᗰIᑎ:

To be honest the world’s greatest detective paired up with a corporate giant is an absolutely terrifying combination in the business world

You can investigate the dark secrets of his competition and expose all of their back deals, thus ruining their reputation and standing

Likewise, any sabotage attempts are quickly ended in you revealing the culprits, leading to their arrest, so soon nobody bothers to try and take Jumin down anymore because they already know the outcome

His influence and power has doubled, maybe even tripled, and it’s all thanks to you

But still, he keeps reminding you not to push yourself, and you keep reminding him that solving things is part of your job and that it’s a lot of fun

When he sees you trying to solve an actual, difficult case though, he can only stand back and just watch in amazement as the person he loves gives all the right answers to mysteries that befuddled the world for ages

Tbh being a detective sounds really cool but my observation skills are limited to “This wall pattern is missing a stripe,” and  "My right boob is 0.6cm higher than my left one,” and then thinking about it all day long 

  ᘔEᑎ:

“Babe, if you’re the best detective in the world, can you determine the cause of my godly looks?”

Zen n o

It’s cool because whenever he receives hate mail, or anti fans do something to cause him trouble, you’ll swoop in like a midnight vigilante and find the culprit in a heartbeat

Zen’s all like wait aren’t I supposed to protect you but honestly he loves knowing that you’re basically his personal super hero

Low key wants you to dress up as a superhero to go and catch the perpetrator 

Z e n NO

He also finds it enchanting how quickly your mind works, and how you can figure out the most difficult things using just the smallest of hints

At some point he has a play in which his role is that of a detective, so he keeps asking you for advice on how to portray his character properly

Zen I’m sorry but I’ve never met such a flamboyant detective in my life

He’d probably end up causing more crimes with his sinful looks if he were an actual detective tho

  ᔕᗩEYOᑌᑎG:

*in the case that MC did not single-handedly arrest Unknown and just proceeded to enter the apartment normally*

So he kind of freaked out at first, because not two hours had passed since you joined the group chat did you call him by his actual name during your very first phone convo. You ask him about his past and current life, and said you would be willing to try and rejoin him and his bro bro

*cue nervous seven nervously sweating while having a nervous breakdown*

Yet he couldn’t really figure out anything about you, no matter how hard he tried

But later you tell him your alias, and he’s like OH WHAT NO WAY???

He’s been a hardcore fan for the longest time

Y’all have mystery nights, where you take turns creating a crime scene and the quickest one to solve the problem wins a bag of Honey Buddha Chips

To be honest, Seven’s cases are so extravagant and weird sometimes it’s hard to get past the “Seven what the fuck?” stage, but you manage to solve them all anyways

And when it’s Seven turn to solve your mysteries, he’s like that kid taking a math test that uses the wrong equation but still ends up with the right answer

It’s pretty amazing actually

Once, when you were solving a case, Seven asked you how you came to your conclusion, and just as a joke you said “’Tis elementary, my dear Watson.”

He proceeded to flip his darn shit

After that, he constantly asks you to cosplay as Sherlock Holmes and walk around with him outside, of course with him dressed up as maid Watson

You comply and it’s surprisingly fun.  You spend most of the day café hopping, using your powers of observation to come up with theories regarding the other patrons

It becomes a competition to come up with the most ridiculous theory, but still be able to back it up with ‘conclusive’ evidence

Seven is really, really good at this, and it’s so much fun you join in

“I think that lady is lying to her friend. Her left nostril twitches every 2.8 seconds, and also the wart on her chin looks rather untrustworthy.”

“Hm, yes that is true. And according to today’s alignment of the sun and the stars, plus the presence of a dusty pickle on the floor, I can say with 100% certainty that your theory is correct.”

Being with Seven is just so much fun hnnng

 ᔕᗩEᖇᗩᑎ:

Ok but tbh if MC was the world’s greatest detective, Saeran would be screwed from square one

Like MC would probably figure out that he was already at the apartment, and lure him out of his hiding spot by choosing those “there is no number pad” options all the time

You know that “bad” ending you can get without even entering the chat-room where Unknown drags your ass away to become his assistant

Kind of off topic but I never really understood why MC would just go along quietly with him I mean yeah he’s hot but like? instead just drag his ass into the apartment and have some sexy time if ya catch my drift

Being a detective means you are very knowledgeable in many skills, and self-defense/fighting is one of them

So basically you tackle him, and decide that going inside the apartment would be more suitable for an interrogation and some other stuff

But of course you still end up entering the chat-room, and it takes a while to explain everything to everyone

It’s not long before Mint Eye goes down, the twins are reunited, Rika is shipped off to Alaska to live in a snake’s natural habitat the wild 

Everyone is confused, and kind of amazed

They decide to let you enter the RFA regardless, since you seem really cool and you helped them so much

When Saeran calms down a bit, he realizes how lucky he was to have chosen you as bait

Feels forever grateful for your interference, and feels calm when he sits beside you while you quietly solve you cases, thoroughly enjoys watching you work

He’s also really happy when you ask for his input regarding a case, and he’ll gladly help you in any way he can

It’s therapeutic for him

Let the bean be a detective too

 ᐯᗩᑎᗪEᖇᗯOOᗪ:

Thinks you being the world’s greatest detective means that you’re another Seven

No it just means we have different ways of acquiring our information

This guy

He’s actually so fucking impressed by your skills

But is he ever going to admit it?

Hell to the no

At least not to your face 

He will however go on a Vanderwood Rant and tell others about how talented you are, how amazing your mind is, and just overall how cool his partner is

Seven uses this to his advantage

If Vanderwood is ever using his Grasp of the Maid on Saeyoung, who wishes to escape, he’ll jokingly say something along the lines of “But in all honesty, I don’t think MC is that talented.”

Hoooooooh  bo i

Vanderwood will literally go on for hours without realizing it unless you physically shut his mouth for him

Cue Seven using Quick Escape

Never tarnish MC’s good name in front of Vanderwood, unless you have about half a day to spare

 ᐯ:

Thanks to you Rika is now undergoing mental rehabilitation

Feels indebted to you forever

V I did it for you not for Rika

Is constantly worried about your safety, since a lot of criminal organizations are after your head

You assure you that you’re safe as long as nobody in the RFA spills your secret, but this mom boy doesn’t stop fretting

So you convince him to get the eye surgery, saying how if he could see, he would be able to keep you safe

And how he could also help you collect evidence and stuff for your job (but really it’s just for his sake, the poor boy doesn’t deserve any more suffering)

He gets it done and just never leaves your side

But his presence isn’t obnoxious or anything, he never gets in your way, he just kind of goes to screen saver mode until you move or need his help

You’re sitting, working, and want some tea? Home boy is gonna read your mind 

There’s a cup of tea in your hand before you can even breathe

Though his presence is soothing, like listening to raindrops against the roof, or the quiet chatter you hear in a coffee shop

But don’t expect him to be a big help when you ask for his advice in a case, his soul is too gentle to talk about suspects and crimes

Also he was basically involved in an illegal religious cult like five minutes ago I’m pretty sure if you bring up crimes he’s going to want to turn himself in

[creativitytoexplore]

[FN] Warning! This Post is The Product of a Spatial Anomaly. Please Ignore it and go Back to Scrolling https://ift.tt/3x1fFDj

It’s been two years since the discovery of magic, and frankly, I’m sick of it. Now you might read this and have had a few different reactions. Maybe “Greg? What are you talking about? We’ve known about Magic since the dawn of time?” or just as likely “Greg, what have you been smoking? Magic is just a bunch of guys with big hats pulling stupid card tricks on kids” or like a million different in-betweens. Let me go ahead and explain. I’m using an App, made by some wizard dude, called Way Sender. You write a message, hit send, and boom, your message is sent out into the multiverse and pops up on some social media, or blog post, or whatever in some reality where the cognitive barrier is low enough for it to get through. Pretty nifty stuff, right? Yeah, I’m tired of it, I just need somewhere to rant. But I guess I should start from the beginning.

So, on May 24th, 2019, some dude muttered an incantation on Wall Street and literally summoned a stone giant in front of everyone. So yeah, that was crazy, and me, a big ass fantasy nerd, was pretty excited. This excitement lasted for maybe a year, then sadly I realized that magic doesn’t make the world any better, it just kinda augments all the problems I had with it.

For starters, I didn’t get to go to any of the magic collages, I don’t have the spark to work spells I guess, but my high school crush, who turned me down because I was “A loser who read books about wizards”, did and now she’s posting selfies, duck facing on top of her pet dragon. To be fair, the dragon makes her even hotter. But yeah, surprise, surprise, you give a bunch of twenty somethin year-olds the power to bend the fabric of reality with their words and they get pretty self-absorbed. I mean, when this all started, and Markiplier and Jacksepticeye live-streamed a wizard duel that was pretty awesome, but slowly wizards just became influencers and duchetubers posting videos of themselves doing magics tricks with their shirts off to get likes. And you wouldn’t believe how much 3 AM challenge videos have taken off now that you can call real demons and the like. And for some reason, YouTube Kids is perfectly fine with videos featuring the actual Beelzebub talking to some fidget spinner sage over the phone.

Porn was also really shaken up by magic…not that I would know from experience or anything, just hearsay and all that. Magical creatures have taken over the erotic film industry, and you think elves would have been in the forefront, being eternally beautiful and all, but turns out that’s just too vanilla for us. But if you look up mermaids, vampires, fairies, kitsune’s, trolls, jorōgumos, etc., etc., you better not do it in public. You’d think that the connection between our porn desensitization and the magical world would end there, but apparently, you’d be wrong. Succubae and Inccubae have formed a union because their magical seduction no longer works on us. This union has declared a lawsuit on the porn industry for “For crimes against demanity”, and despite it being an uphill battle, it seems to be going in their favor. The forces of Hell have surprisingly good lawyers.

And speaking of Hell, you might be wondering how magic affected Religion. Would it unify us as a people by providing us with a universal truth? Would it maybe chill out the zealots and the really hateful bunch? Nope, providing a little proof to everyone’s faith has made the zealots stick to their beliefs even more rigidly, and hate everyone who’s not the exact same as them even more intensely. The only unification it has created is a surprising union of the most extreme supporters of the largest religions, calling themselves the “Workers Against the Supernatural”, who are attempting to outlaw any kind of magic and get all inherently magical creatures deported to Antarctica. Of course, their goals put them in direct opposition with monsters, demons, gods, and wizards with an army of elementary schooler fans who are willing to steal their mom's credit cards, so they haven’t gotten much accomplished.

But do you want to know the worst part of this? The thing that in the midst of all this all too familiar chaos that somehow sucks the most? Ironic as it may sound, magic killed the fantasy genre. In the pre-magic world, there were all kinds of amazing fantasy writers. Sanderson, Gaiman, Martin, Rothfuss, and this one guy who went by the pin name Cold Coffee Man who was like a true master of his craft. But when magic was proven to be real, it turned out that they all had it wrong. Reading them now is like reading a sports novel written by someone who’s never even read the rule book. And now that the fantastical has become “tastical”, the genre has become pointless, obsolete, who wants to read about Harry Potter when the Prime Minister of Japan and the Queen of England are having what is essential a Pokémon battle with a summoned Thunderbird and Hydra?

And the loss of Fantasy may have been more bearable if magic was what made the genre fantastic in the first place, but it’s not. Those stories that I loved, they were never about the spells, and the monsters, Dungeons, and Dragons was way more than just dungeons and dragons. It was a world where things worked differently, where the world wasn’t ruled by obnoxious celebrities with egos the size of planets, a world where your life couldn’t be summarized with the word “pointless”. It gave us a world full of purpose, a world where you meant something. A world where if some great evil showed its ugly head to try and destroy what you loved, you could destroy it right back, a world where hardship and pain, built friendships and change, not exhaustion and clinical depression. But then magic had to come along and kill that fantasy.

submitted by /u/ColdCoffeeMan [link] [comments]

[theworstbob]

i’ma yell at the songs that debuted on the billboard hot 100 this year okay

So I’m gonna try to make this post every week because I’m trying to establish some routine for the tumblog, have some point to my social media? Which basically means I’m gonna keep track of every song that blows up enough to get on the Billboard charts and update the Top Ten of 2017 every week so I don’t have to endure the nonsense that was a Hot 100 of 2016 chart that didn’t have “Black Beatles” or “Bad & Boujee” YA GOOFED, BILLBOARD so anyway this’ll be a fun thing to do for two months

i’ma skip the 1/7 chart because there’s still christmas music on there? but i’m considering everything from that point on a 2017 track.

14 January 2017

71) "Moves," Big Sean

The more time I spend with Big Sean, the more I understand what other people might have been seeing in him that has kept him in the collective consciousness this whole time. Like, we gave him enough chances to practice, and he got good! It's impressive! Not everyone gets good!

79) "Seein' Red," by Dustin Lynch

I was gonna make a stink about how typically red lights mean 'stop,' and that is a notable omission in a song about a dude who fantasizes about red, but you know what, this is about as inoffensive as bro country gets. It's not good? But it's not obnoxious, and that hits the ceiling I have for bro country. I would like to point out: in the pre-chorus, bro says "drive this Chevy like a Cadillac." Fun fact! The Cadillac-brand automotives are manufactured by General Motors, which also manufactures Chevrolet-brand automobiles! That is so weird how, in this simile, two cars being manufactured by the same company are being compared! Probably just a coincidence.

80) "iSpy," by KYLE ft./Lil Yachty

This is the bounciest trap single I've heard since "Trap Queen." "I'm just like DeRozan/If I shoot it, it goes in." And just like DeMar DeRozan with his anachronistic game based around an elite mid-range jumper, I don't know how this song works so well, but goddamnit if it's just a pleasure to hear! Both parties have really nice self-deprecating senses of humor, and the hook is the sort of daffy most novelty singles could only dream of achieving. This song is charming! I never thought I'd describe a trap song as charming, but I absolutely fucking love this. What a peculiar little treat!

90) "Think a Little Less," by Michael Ray

I was gonna do this whole thing where I inferred certain beliefs Michael Ray has about women's right to their own bodies given that he has a 100% serious song called "Real Men Love Jesus" and wonder why someone who isn't pro-choice would insist a woman "kiss a little more, think a little less." But you know what? Maybe Michael Ray's cool. Maybe we owe Michael Ray the benefit of the doubt. So I'm not gonna do that whole thing. I'm just not gonna talk about this song anymore because hoo boy is it ever not worth talking about.

95) "No Flockin," by Kodak Black

Imagine making the beat for this song and realizing it has to go to Kodak Black. Hey: I have an idea for a reality show, and y'all can tell me if this has been done, but it's 14 unsigned rappers in a battle to determine who gets to be the first to rap over a new Just Blaze beat, and like in the first episode Just Blaze brings out whatever hip-hop luminaries are at a stage in their career that they have to appear on reality shows (P. Diddy for sure, I bet they could get Cee-Lo, and I can't imagine Salt or Pepa saying no) to affirm that this isn't just some beat Just Blaze made ten years ago that he's pulling out for that executive producer credit, anyone who gets this beat has a hit on their hands, and with the right rapper, it's a no-brainer instant classic. 14 unsigned rappers fighting for one Just Blaze beat in the reality rapping competition we so sorely need.

96) "Timeless," by A Boogie Wit da Hoodie ft./DJ SPINKING

The way the drums come in is really cool. The way he goes off-beat in the bridge, I don't know how into that I am? But I respect that he is making choices.

98) "Way Down We Go," by Kaleo

Gotye 2017 is pretty cool! Nothing will ever top the original, of course, but still a far sight better than Gotye 2015.

99) "Hate U Love U," by Olivia O'Brien

...wait is this j -- okay, well, i guess it's enough to know we can calculate gnash's VORP. this song goes from a 3 to a 6 without that dude.

100) "Shaky Shaky," by Daddy Yankee

This is garbage, but it is incredibly acceptable garbage. It's jubilantly insipid.

21 January 2017

92) "Sober Saturday Night," by Chris Young ft./Vince Gill

So as far as bro country dudes go, this one actually has a decent voice. If pressed, I might be able to pick his voice out of a lineup a week from now! That doesn't mean this song isn't dreck -- oh wow, you stopped partying because a girl left you, how terrible, he's not even drinking! you guys! so sad! -- but, y'know, it's nice to have some variety.

93) "Beibs in the Trap," by Travis Scott

Hey! A song I already know and mostly enjoy! Awesome time-save, right there!

94) "I Got You," by Bebe Rexha

...no thank you

95) "The Weekend," by Brantley Gilbert

oh god this chucklefuck. "Tick tock, I'm on the clock, and I feel like this job's just 9 to 5'n my life away." Brantley Gilbert is 32. He released his debut album when he was 24. Assume he went to all four years of high school and graduated at 18. His Wikipedia page says he has been an active musician since 2005, when he would've been 20. I never knew any 19-year-olds with office jobs but, okay, let's give him the benefit of the doubt, afford him the chance to have worked a shitty temp job while he was gigging or trying to make songwriting happen. He has six years, from when he was 18 to 24, to have worked a 9 to 5. Like, you would think this wouldn't matter to him these days, right? Because he's 32 now, and he has a job he probably likes as a county music star, he has a purported net worth around $10 million, you'd figure he wouldn't be thinking about the time he wasted at his dead-end job. So unless he's just had this song hanging around since he was 23 and is just now getting around to it, how am I supposed to believe this tattoo boy truly ever felt miserable at a 9-5? See, the problem with bro country is, it's dishonest. It comes from a deeply cynical place. This song does not come from a place of deeply felt experience or bold artistic statement, it is a song about something that happens to other people that he and Big Machine can then sell to those other people, and that is just such a profoundly disappointing thing. I promise one day I'm going to talk about something I love as much as I talk about something I don't much care for.

100) "Water," by Ugly God

I love this name you have chosen for yourself! The song... Well, still. What a good name to have picked! You are wearing a sweatshirt that says Hentai and I am proud of what you have been able to achieve in your life's time.

28 January 2017

1) "Shape of You," by Ed Sheeran

"Hey, 2010 Bob!" "Well, hello, Bob! from the future! Been a couple days!" "Been a couple years, actually." "Ha!" "Time travel jokes." "Well, what'd you come here to tell me? Last time, you came from the magical world of 2013 to tell me about all the new Pokemon you had. What does the future have in store?" "In 2017, the best male pop stars alive will be, in order, Bruno Mars, The Weeknd, and Ed Sheeran." "...Um?" "Also Trump becomes president." "What, like Donald?" "I also have new Pokemon for you!" "Oh, dope! But like Donald?" "Oh yeah, and he like instantly becomes a monstrous dictator, too." "...The Apprentice dude?"

6) "Castle on the Hill," by Ed Sheeran

Like legit tho, it's 2017, Ed Sheeran dropped a song with heavy (heavy) U2 influence, and I 100% don't mind it. I also laughed out loud at "Me and my friends have not thrown up in so long, we're so grown." Like this is all he's ever been, but he's a lot better at it now than he was when he started, and he’s become, like, kinda dope?

77) "Location," by Khalid

Always good for someone's long-term prospects when the song gets a Wikipedia page before the singer or any of the five other credited writers, or the three producers. Are the three producers and six songwriters all separate entities? I don't know and won't bother verifying, because all Wikipedia tells me is that nine people worked on this song, and also that when Khalid "heard the beat play, the words flew out," two information bitlets that don't conflict at all. The end product isn't the worst thing I've ever heard, I might end up with this dumb song stuck in my head for a jillion years, but it is just kinda... like, there. There's no climax or anything, it's just, "Send me your location. I'll wait. ...There it is. Coo'." Like fuck, dude, have an emotion or something.

89) "Drinkin' Too Much," by Sam Hunt

There is no way of knowing if I actually heard Sam Hunt's "Drinking Too Much" or not. All's I know is, I'm like 90% sure I heard a bro-country/trap song, and I am not okay with it. Absolutely not. Fuck you, and fuck whoever gave these songwriters a Future tape. This is unacceptable. I don't know who told you you could, but you shouldn't have.

100) "If the Boot Fits," by Granger Smith

BRO COUNTRY CLICHE COUNT Well the word boot is in the title of the song (1), and it's also a part of the chorus so we’ll make that (2), and apparently people come to his shows holding fucking cowboy boots (3) uh-huh yeah totally real America right there, the song begins with the phrase "small town" (4) and a patriarchal admonishment to have the daughter home by midnight (5). Granger Smith, you are 38, you should not be dating women with CURFEWS. Christ. "I wanna watch the sun rise through the pines with ya." Campin' sounds country as fuck (6) and watching the sunrise, it's not specifically a bro country cliche? But it's still a cliche (7). "My carriage is a 4x4 400 horse Chevrolet." Are yo -- okay, (8), and you know what (9) because he specified the horsepower and (10) because he specified the brand, ARE YOU... sure? Granger? Jordan Schmidt? Andy Albert? Mitchell Tenpenny? Frank Rogers? Are you guys okay with what you're doing? Do you go to bed satisfied that you have put good in this world? Are you sure this is what you were put on this earth to do? "My carriage is a 4x4 400 horse Chevrolet." My stars! "Let me show you how a country boy treats a lady." (11), man, that's just a classic. This song isn't even three minutes long, and it manages to pack in that much bad. I don't even care that I spent so much time thinking about something I hated, because you know what, bro country is still a scourge must needs be purged from this earth. Bad things happen when people like me say nothing. MAYBE THERE ARE BETTER FIGHTS TO START BUT THIS 38-YEAR-OLD BOY IS WASTING EVERYONE'S TIME.

4 February 2017

7) "Paris," by The Chainsmokers

Consider Armando Galarraga. He had, quite literally, a negligible major league career from 2007 to 2012. There is a statistc called Wins Above Replacement, or WAR, which purports to calculate exactly how many wins any major league player is worth as opposed to some schmoe a team could pluck from the minor leagues. Armando Galarraga ended his career having accrued 0.4 WAR, going by the website FanGraphs' calculations of the stat. For four years, Armando Galarraga essentially was the replacement player, the guy teams played because they didnt have anyone else. But on 2 June 2010, he was perfect. Not perfect. FanGraphs assigned his game a score of 94, Galarraga only posting three strikeouts, getting most of his outs via grounders. But perfect in the way that baseball defines it, in that he pitched a complete game and retired all 27 batters he faced, plus an extra batter because Jim Joyce made a mistake and baseball, in 2010, didn't afford opportunities to review close calls. No one disputes that Galarraga retired every batter he faced, we all collectively agree Armando Galarraga pitched a perfect game, and this player, who otherwise had a completely unremarkable career, never even pitching in the post-season despite playing for a highly competent Detroit Tigers team for three seasons, did this one beautiful thing and made himself unforgettable. The next time he pitched, he threw five innings and gave up a two-run home run to Mark Kotsay, and no one was disappointed because they were pretty sure they had an idea of Armando Galarraga's true talent level. This song is meh, is what I'm trying to say.

43) "T-Shirt," by Migos

Fun fact! Production of this track was handled by an entity named XL and the duo of Nard & B, who also produced a track for Future's 2014 album Honest called "T-Shirt!" This "T-Shirt" is a different song from Future's, I listened to both and can confirm that they are different, but my question to you is: are they?

77) "Not Afraid Anymore," by ft./Halsey

Why does having sex with Halsey sound like God and Satan fighting for control of all that is? Like, the grand sense of self-importance which Halsey brings to the table really served "Closer" well, because that song needed someone to insist that we're NOT. EVER getting older. The way she growls those words to the end? I could cry, it’s so good. But on this song, it's like, y'all know sex is fun, right? It doesn't always have to be like this? You're prolly gonna have it again, maybe calm down about it for a second? And more importantly, was I supposed to come into this song knowing what "hit the sin" means? I Googled that phrase. It doesn't even yield the AZ Lyrics page for this song. This phrase doesn't exist, dawg. Is. Is it the butt? You need to explain these things which did not hitherto exist!

88) "Despacito," by Luis Fonsi ft./Daddy Yankee

The thing about Latin pop is, it's a world I only understand through what gets shown to me on the Billboard charts, and that's unfair to that world, because Latin pop is a much nicer vision of the world than American pop. This is such a nice song! The way he sings DES. PA. CI. TO. is incredible, Daddy Yankee doesn't get too "Shaky Shaky" on this (I'm not even gonna try to judge Daddy Yankee as a rapper given how out of my depth I am in terms of any music evaluation, but he seems on point), it just, it hums along at a nice clip. Also the English translation of this song I found says this song has the line "We will do it on the beach in Puerto Rico 'til the waves scream 'Dear lord!'" THIS IS A SONG ABOUT FUCKING SO RIGHT THAT YOU MAKE THE OCEAN NERVOUS. GOD YES.

95) "Not Nice," by PARTYNEXTDOOR

So, here's the peril of wanting to listen to and have opinions on all the new pop music, apart from forcing myself to have reactions to things that may not be reflective of my true feelings: I will sometimes have to look at this and think, well what do I do about this? It's a nice song. I really dig the beat. I don't mind the dude's voice. The lyrics aren't wholly offensive. But like. I gotta say something about it, right? "Um, maybe I will try the party next door, thank you for the suggestion." That'd be a killer line, but I don't dislike this song! But no one wants to hear “don’t dislike.” I have to go one way or the other. Kaizo level or troll level. 1000 degree hot knife or Frozen Ana Elsa Trolls. I can’t just be a person who hears something and forgets it. Everything has to matter. This needs to matter for it to be content.

98) "Black," by Dierks Bentley

I've long defended Dierks Bentley as one of the good ones, but, um, you know it takes two people to fuck, right dude? Okay, insist she make your world go black. What are you gonna do for her? Whatcha bringin' to the table, Dierks? I used to work guest service at a Target store, and my man, if you wanna do an even exchange, best believe you oughta bring your receipts. "DRUNK ON A PLANE" NOTWITHSTANDING I do not for a second think the quality of your dick is so unimpeachable that you can make demands like this!

99) "Down," by Marian Hill

This is nice! Like, in the alternate universe where Harry Potter didn't blow all the way the hell up but still got big enough for a CW adaptation, this would definitely be the theme song. That's what this song is, a quirky jam for a very British teen soap. I really dig this, this is a refreshing change of pac -- Oh. Oh, okay, so that's a thing you decided to do. Alright. Well, we had some fun here. I appreciate that you are trying to accomplish things, and I acknowledge that others may find you succeeded.

So these are the top ten singles of 2017 so far:

10) “Seein’ Red,” by Dustin Lynch (yeah it’s bad, but there’s only like 17 songs, there’s one song on this list i’d be 100% okay with still seeing in the top ten in december) 9) “Moves,” by Big Sean 8) “Down,” by Marian Hill 7) “Timeless,” by A Boogie Wit da Hoodie ft./DJ SPINKING 6) “Beibs in the Trap,” by Travis Scott 5) “Castle on the Hill,” by Ed Sheeran 4) “Way Down We Go,” by Kaleo 3) “Shape of You,” by Ed Sheeran 2) “Despacito,” by Luis Fonsi ft./Daddy Yankee 1) “iSpy,” by KYLE ft./Lil Yachty