#Matt’s disco ball jacket

[sunburnacoustic]

Just thinking about his disco ball jacket

Glamlet returns!

[sunburnacoustic]

hi sorry for I am still thinking about THIS:

Muse at hell and heaven open air in Toluca, Mexico. Photos by musers of muse staff

[mingigoo]

chocolate || Choi San (m.)

❆ pairing ⇢ (fem) reader x brother’s best friend! Choi San

❆ summary ⇢ you never got along with your brother’s best friend San, but you really never needed to. His pretty face and cocky attitude pissed you right off. But when he shows up on New Year’s Eve when you’re home alone, and a snowstorm forces you to stay together for the time being, you can’t help yourself from his enchanting charms—and sexy ass body.

❆ genre/au ⇢ smut, forced proximity, brothers best friend au, snowed in au

❆ warnings/tags ⇢ 18+ MINORS DNI, fingering, shower sex, oral sex (male receiving), slightly rough but really not too much, creampie, unprotected sex, the power goes out and they want to fuck each ther so bad I’m sorry

❆ word count ⇢ 5.2k

❆ taglist ⇢  @atinywhore @ch0isa99ie @jjhmk @yukine-smx @roe-sinning @meowmeowminnie @yeritheloml @y00nzin0 @yesv01 @halesandy @shegotboreddsoo @kangyeosangelic @gayliljoong @sanshineeeeee @kodzukein @baguette-atiny @seokwoosmole @nyeatinyjunkie @juliettechokilo @pockyddalgi @justaqueerbufoin @hwaightme @likexaxdaydream @ssaboala @gtr-skyline-lover @miriamxsworld @daegale @knucklesdeepmingi @naiify @yeoyeoland @arya9111 @mdibby @8tinytings @angelicyeo @wooyoungjpg @lonewolfjinji @asjkdk @charreddonuts @mangishii @yeoyeoland @pink-hwaberry @wooyoluvrr @maru-matt @pearltinyy @loveuwoo @m3chigo @northerngalxy @silverpixiedust23 (if I missed you please lmk!! bold = can’t tag)

The snow crunched under your feet as you walked up to your parents' home.

Christmas had just passed—although both your mom and dad were out of the area, having the time of their lives in the warmth of another country. You envied them, but you were happy to be back in town after a rough breakup and a messy semester.

When you walked in the door with a bag of groceries and now covering your eyelashes, your little brother Wooyoung sat on the couch in the living room, star-shaped shades on his face and a shiny jacket over his bare chest.

“What….why are you dressed like that?” you inquired, shoving your snowy shoes off your feet.

He stared at you blankly. “Are you stupid?”

You scoffed, walking past him to put the bag of groceries away—groceries that were solely for baking cookies. A perfect way to spend the night.

He stood up and followed you in. “Y/n, it’s New Year's Eve. How else should I be dressed?”

You forgot about it. All of it. It already pained you that you were alone this new Year after spending four of them with the same man.

You shoved the bag of flour into the cabinet aggressively. “I don't know, not like a disco ball? That jacket is gonna get puked on and ruined.”

He looked over at you, noticing your distaste. “Are you…..is Soobin, you know, coming in for the holiday? He already missed Christmas.”

Soobin decided to dump you for reasons unknown. You believed it was because he was chasing his dream of becoming an idol, and he couldn't have a bunch of sexy baggage like you, so you let him lose you. 

But if that wasn't the case and he broke up for you for the hell of it, you would strangle that stupid hot boy and let him pay for his crime of losing the best he’s ever had.

Anyway…

“Oh, we broke up,” you shoved the stuff around in the cabinet, hoping to distract your brother from the horrible news. You didn't tell him the whole time you've been home. You've been avoiding it—it was already embarrassing to be dumped, more so around Christmas.

It did not, in fact, distract him.

“Holy fuck, really?” he leaned forward, intrigued. “Why? What did he do?”

“Oh, you know,” you bit the corner of your lip, trying not to look like you were lying straight through your teeth. “He’s chasing his dream. I broke up with him so he didn't have to struggle with the girlfriend baggage and all. He was so heartbroken….”

Woo blinked. 

“Oh, girl,” he offered a sincere smile. Well, as sincere as wooyoung could possibly get. “He dumped your ass, didn't he?”

You stared at him for a second. You couldn't get past him—he’s seen breakups way too many times with San by his side.

“Yep.”

You stood there in silence for a minute or two, trying your best not to reminisce on your relationship—even though you were over him. It wasn't even about Soobin; rather, it was the aching feeling of being someone’s number two. A career, an understandable priority, still felt like a slap in the face to you, as you were less important in his eyes. You can joke with yourself and others all you want—but you crave that feeling of being someone’s pride and joy. Someone’s only thought when the world is about to end.

“Welp,” Woo sighed, not knowing what to say. “I have to head out soon. I’m meeting up with San and Yeosang to head to the party.”

You sighed, leaning against the counter behind you. “Have fun.”

He pondered for a second, sticking his tongue into the inside of his cheek. “Wanna come with us?” he asked.

You shook your head, already not feeling like doing anything—especially anything involving…..San. “No, no, you go have fun,” you smiled at him as best as you could.

He nodded, but gave you a look of worry before he left the kitchen.

You followed him like a lost puppy as he tossed his shoes on in the doorway, struggling to bring his chucks over his heel—his frat shoes, as he likes to express. The shoes he doesn't mind puking on. You watched in enjoyment as he wrestled his shoes.

“I’ll be back later,” he ruffled your hair tenderly, but the grimace on his face felt like he wanted to tackle you—in a playful way, of course.

“Be safe—”

He shut the door with a smirk before you finished your sentence.

—

“A sudden storm will be rising upon us within the next hour or so, with wind gusts up to……”

You could hardly hear the TV from the kitchen as you blasted Christmas music, flour on every square inch of you. You were baking—your favorite hobby. It’s been a while since you were able to bake carefree, and now that you had an unlimited amount of free time, you were going to bake as much as you missed out on. 

As you shoved in another pan of cookies into the oven, you heard the door open and shut loudly, so loud that you were able to hear it over your music.

“Wooyoung, what the hell?” you grumbled, your back turned from the doorway as you fixed up the already baked cookies to cool. “Can you slam that shit any louder? And aren't you supposed to be at a party?”

Silence. No response. 

“I said, aren't you supposed to be—”

And when you turned around, it was most definitely not wooyoung in the kitchen doorway.

You dropped a cookie onto the floor. 

“Well,” San smirked, his grey hood covering his dark hair, his lips curled sexily, and his eyebrows raised. “Aren't you a beauty?”

You stood there in a flour-covered apron, flour-covered hair, face, and everything in between, looking at the man across the kitchen table.

“San,” you breathed, brushing your hands off on your apron and bending down quickly to pick up the dropped cookie. “What are you doing here? Wooyoung told me he was meeting up with you.”

“To see you, of course,” He purred, taking a step closer to you. He walked around the table to get to where you were standing, and not surprisingly, he lifted a finger to the corner of your lips and then continued to taste it on his own. 

You shivered in what you wished was disgust.

His eyes lit up as he tasted it, licking his lips. “Mmm. Chocolate?” he hummed, leaning against the counter next to you. He pulled down his hood to reveal his messy, silky black hair. “You've always been such a great baker.”

“You scoffed, turning back to the stove to check on your cooling cookies. “Why are you here?”

“You just asked me that.”

“Yeah, but you didn't answer correctly.”

“I’m here to see you, baby,” he leaned forward. 

You leaned back.

“Ha!” you laughed sarcastically, picking up your spatula to wield it like a weapon in his direction. When you met his gaze, you felt your stomach drop from his pretty smile and his sickening gaze. “Wooyoung isn't here, alright? So you better leave, or I will kick you out—”

“I’ll just wait here for him until he gets back.” San shrugged, stealing a cookie before running away from the kitchen.

You followed him into the living room, tracking your flouriness all over the place. “Can't you just go home? I don't understand why—”

He was standing in front of the TV as your voice trailed off. Apparently, there was a huge storm that no one saw coming. San watched intently as he snacked happily on the cookie as if finding out that there was a blizzard outside was the best news he’d ever heard.

“A blizzard?” you freaked out, running up to the screen right next to him. After watching for a few moments, you went to the window, looking out to see the roads completely covered and the wind blowing a dusting of white all over the place.

“Oh….I didn't see that coming,” San’s irritatingly attractive voice spoke from right behind you, and when you turned around, he stood with a sinister smile on his face.

“You should go, for real,” you sighed, looking up into his eyes before moving your gaze anxiously. “Before you can't.” 

He peered over your shoulder, letting out a puff of air. “I don't think I can drive back on the roads like this….” he sighed, tilting his head at you. “It's too dangerous.”

You blinked, trying your hardest not to cave into those lustrous cat-like eyes. He blinked at you now, his expression unreadable.

It's been ages since you saw this man—ages, and he still treats you as if you were best buddies all your life. In reality, you've never once liked the guy. His hair pissed you off, his crooked smile boiled your blood, and god, his ears? Why were they so cute? How can ears be cute? Don't get yourself started on his lips…..lips that you….may have kissed once or twice all those years ago.

He never talked about it, so you just ignored it.

And now that you were thinking about his lips, your eyes dropped down to them, and when you realized, you cleared your throat and brought your gaze back up to his eyes.

“If you stay, you have to act like you're not here,” you breathed, crossing your arms over your messy apron. He looked down—down at your cleavage and smirked. “Eyes up here, mister.”

He hesitated to move his gaze, and when he did, your stomach flipped once more—god, maybe you just needed to get laid. It's been ages since you had a good fuck….

No. what were you thinking? No. no, no. Stop it.

You took a second to gain your thoughts before speaking again. “Just… don't do anything until wooyoung gets here.”

He stood close to you, looking down with those seductive eyes, his smile blindingly attractive. He didn't even need to speak to make your knees weak—which was probably why you hated him so much.

He bent his head to get closer to you, that smile still on his face. 

“Can I speak, master?” he nearly moaned, biting the corner of his lip. “I feel like it would be unfortunate to remain silent during our….reuniting time.”

You let out a little chuckle. “What? Reuniting time?” you uncrossed your arms. “That's funny. We were never close enough to unite in the first place.”

“Oh, y/n,” he purred, reaching out to twirl a finger around your hair. You wanted to run away. Your mind told you to, but everything else craved him—as it always has. “I would say we united many times, haven't we?”

He looked like he wanted to grab you as tight as he could and swallow you whole—but the conflict in his eyes said no. you watched his eyes dance around you, how his hand froze mid-air within your hair, and his lips flat in a line.

And it took everything in you to move away from him. 

You took a step back, watching his eyes drop to your feet.

“You can stay,” you coughed, looking anywhere but him. “But don't…don’t bother me. Don't talk about….uniting, or reuniting, or whatever…..” you huffed, giving him one last look before running into the kitchen, only to find the cookies in the oven burnt to a crisp.

And once again, the cycle began. San’s enchantment was whirling around you, capturing everything in its wake. Your heart never belonged to you—no, it always belonged to him.

And he will make sure you will never forget it.

—

San sat at the table, watching you intently as you made another batch of cookie dough.

“How’s school?” he asked you, his voice soft.

You shrugged, stirring the dough with your bare hand, as there was no mixer. “It's fine, same same.”

He nodded, his chin held up by his palm. You continued to mix the dough.

“How’s what's his name? Soo—Soomin? Soojin? Soo–”

“Soobin?” you asked, trying not to smile at his obvious distaste.

He nodded, a frown on his lips.

You didn't get to respond as your phone interrupted the conversation.

“Ugh,” you huffed, holding your dough-covered hands in the air, unable to get your phone in your pocket. “Can you…can you get my phone for me?”

San stood up. “Where is it?” 

You pointed to your back pocket. “There, in my pocket.”

When he got next to you, he hesitated on reaching to get it, but when you gave him the death stare, his gentle hand glided down your back, down your ass, and to your pocket. You froze at his touch and nearly missed the phone call from your mess of emotions. 

He answered the call for you and held it up to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Oh, thank god,” wooyoung breathed. “Don't go anywhere, alright?”

You scoffed, looking down at your dough-covered hands and your filthy clothes. “Ah, I wouldn't worry about me going anywhere. I’m definitely not fit for an outing.”

Wooyoung didn't laugh like his normal self. “For real, don't go anywhere. I won't be home for a good while because of the storm, so make sure you stay safe and warm.”

“Awe, I didn't know you cared so much about me,” you cooed, but when you saw San’s little smile at your words, you immediately swallowed hard, lost in thoughts you shouldn't be having while you're on the phone.

“Anyway, just be safe,” Woo sighed, taking a breath in. “I’ll be living off this shitty-ass beer and stale cookies. These sons of bitches are so cheap I swear—”

Without warning, the lights flickered slightly.

And then they went completely off, leaving you and San with no lights, no power, no anything.

“What the fuck—”

“For fucks sake,” San hissed, catching him off guard. Wooyoung, however, perked up the minute he heard a man.

“Who’s there with you? I heard a voice?”

“Oh, it’s just San,” you mumbled, looking up at him, where his eyes even sparkled in the dark. You forgot your train of thought for a moment. “He came here looking for you.”

“Yeah, right. That dude’s been obsessed with seeing you ever since he knew you were coming home. What a little pussy. He had to make up a lie to come over? Pfft—”

“Ah, oh no, looks like we lost service too—you’re breaking up—” San coughed, and after a moment of time for wooyoung to react, he hit the end button, tossing your phone onto the counter with haste.

You gave him a funny look as he tried to ignore your gaze. The room was extremely dark—not a single light source other than the little bluish glow from your home screen on your phone. 

You had no idea what to say to him; he didn't know what to say, either. You just stood in the dark kitchen, the oven at a standstill, and so were your feelings. He was looking down at his feet, trying his hardest not to look at you—although it was too dark to see you, anyway.

“Guess I’m done baking,” you hummed, giving him a slight look of curiosity before you took the cookies out of the cold oven. 

“Yeah, that won't work now,” he muttered quietly, very much unlike his usual dickhead way of speaking. He swallowed hard, too close to you. 

You stood strong right in front of him, your body telling you to grab him by the neck and kiss those gorgeous lips of his. Maybe you were just that desperate to feel something after your breakup—or maybe you always wanted San—either way, you were so close to giving in to your desire, but you pushed yourself away and took off your apron slowly.

“You never….you never answered my question earlier.”

You set the apron down on the counter next to your phone. It shut off now, leaving you in complete darkness, with San only a shadow in front of you.

You frowned, but you couldn't see the look on his face in front of you. “What question?”

“About how Soobin is?”

You scoffed, trying your best to look up into San’s eyes. You saw them sparkle slightly, and you stared into them. “So you do know his name.”

“I really don't care what his name is, y/n,” he grumbled, taking a step closer to you.

You smiled, knowing by the tone of his voice that he was aggravated. “Well, if you must know, I really don't know how he is.”

San grew quiet, but you heard him take a breath in. “what do you mean?”

“We broke up, so I wouldn't know how he is, alright?” you hissed at him, but only to get a reaction out of him—god, you didn't know what you’d do if what wooyoung said was true—that if San came here to see you, that he was waiting to see you for ages, that he’s irritated over the fact you’ve had a boyfriend—all of it would send you into a spiral. You always told yourself you'd need to be completely wasted to even think of San in a new light….but here in the dark, with his hot breath caressing your cheeks, you were ready to say fuck it to your facade. 

He didn't say anything for a while. He just stood there, his one hand leaning against the table to hold himself up. 

“You…broke up with him?” he hummed quietly.

“Mhm,” you nodded, tilting your head up to try and meet his gaze.

He swallowed, nodding. “Mmm. I see,” he smiled—at least it looked like he did. “Nice.”

“Nice?” you furrowed your brows.

“Well, I mean, I never liked the guy, so—”

“Why?”

“I don't know—”

“Yes, you do know,” you took a step even closer, causing him to catch his breath. “What’s the reason?”

He sighed, his breath dancing across your skin. “Well, like, two years ago or so, when we were out at the bar,” San took a second to form what he wanted to say, and you stood and looked up at him without a blink. “He got you a drink with Malibu in it.”

You blinked, confused. “So? I don't even remember that San, I don't know why you're bringing that up—”

“Because you hate coconut, y/n,” he interrupted you, his tone of voice exasperated. “And you hate going to bars—they stress you out. You didn't even finish the drink before he got you another and didn't even care to know what you liked…so I didn't like him.”

You stood there, mouth slightly dropped after his words. 

That was enough of a confession for you. 

“So….you didn't like him because he got me a coconut drink or….” you reached out, your fingers delicately draping over his that were resting on the table. He jumped slightly at your touch as if he was never expecting it. “Or because you could do better than him?”

San remained still as you let your fingers glide up his arm, feeling the softness of his hoodie that you wished to take off.

“....I think you know why I didn't like him….” He breathed.

You leaned forward in the dark, your gaze piercing right into his. Your hand met the base of his neck, sending shivers down his spine from the coldness of them. He let out a sound of pleasure at your touch, your other hand meeting his waist.

You didn't say anything else. You just wanted to fall into him, even with the consequences; it didn't matter what would happen tomorrow. He was breathing shallowly, his lips parted, begging you to kiss them as if he was waiting forever. 

And as if they knew the timing, the lights flickered back on, revealing a lovestruck San—his eyes hazy with desire and his expression out of a book.

His fingertips found their home on the side of your cheek, holding your face gently, carefully, as if you were glass.

You were less than an inch away from his lips, but before you pressed them to his, you stepped back, knowing that you were a filthy mess—you didn't want him to spend this time with you while you were embarrassingly messy.

“I….” you paused, pulling away from his hold. “I…need to shower,” you mumbled, giving him a look.

He blinked slowly. “A…shower?” 

“Yeah.”

With one last look at him, you saw the hesitation in his eyes. You walked past him, brushing up against him before you walked up the steps.

And before you got to the bathroom at the end of the hall, you heard his clunky footsteps make their way up the creaky stairs.

“Wait, hold on,” he huffed, grabbing your wrist to turn you around. “What was that?”

You looked at him innocently. “What was what?”

He furrowed his brows. “You know, that.”

You shrugged, fighting the smile that begged to arise. “What?”

He groaned, dropping your hand in a fit. “You were going to kiss me.”

You tilted your head, playing with him. “Was I?”

“Were you not?”

“I don't know.”

“Yes, you do know! You were literally about to kiss me—”

“And what if I was?” you whispered, your eyes slanted with mischief. He looked at you, his own expression changing from confusion to….well, more confusion. 

He bit his bottom lip. 

“Am I supposed to follow you into the shower?”

You smiled, letting him decide what you wanted him to do.

With a curt turn, you opened the bathroom door, leaving it open a crack, inviting him in.

You took off your messy top, covered in flour. You waited patiently, taking off your bra and your pants, and all that was left was your panties before he entered abruptly. 

“Listen, you can't leave that door open and not expect me to—oh,” he paused, his breath shaky. 

You stood unmovingly, facing him.

And with a slight scoff, he ran towards you. 

“Fuck it,” he huffed, slamming his body into yours, swallowing you with his whole being.

His lips caressed yours, biting your tongue, shoving his own into your mouth. You took in a sharp breath as he sucked on your soul, his hand finding your breast to squeeze it tightly.

“God, I’ve been waiting to do that forever,” he groaned against your mouth, his other hand playing with the hem of your underwear. With one quick motion, he pulled them down, falling onto your ankles as you stepped out of them.

You smiled into his kiss, tearing away at his hoodie before he pulled it over his head, leaving him shirtless and full of glory. You parted away from his lips, kissing down his chest, over his mounds of muscle, until your knees hit the floor.

He froze under your touch, your fingertips gliding over his hard-on. You grinned devilishly up at him, his expression in a mess of excitement and nervousness. Him? Nervous? Impossible.

You pulled down his pants as swiftly as you could, causing him to hiss sharply. He was fully on display for you now, his cock pulsing and ready for you. You grazed your fingers from his base to his tip; then you took it in your mouth without a warning.

He grunted, immediately gripping the hair on top of your head, tossing his own back with aggression. His little moans were music to your ears; not once did you ever believe you'd hear them—he looked so fuckable. So desirable. He always did, which explains why he was your first-ever kiss, why you always thought back to him when you were with Soobin, why you couldn't avoid his charms even though you so desperately tried.

He moaned your name—said it with such haste as if he couldn't hold back. As if he’s wanted this for ages. He leaned into your mouth, moving his hips slightly to push himself in deeper. You let out a gag, causing him to moan once more, making you smile against his cock.

You moved back and forth on him, no hands in sight. You glanced up at him through your eyelashes as you pressed your lips at the base of his dick, watching his eyes close tight and his chest heave.

“God fuck,” he huffed, his fingers tying knots in your hair, causing tears to build up behind your eyes. You liked it—loved it—his touch was ecstasy.

Without a minute to waste, San pulled you upward and off of him, just for him to press his lips to yours, reaching backward to turn the knob on the hot water.

You giggled against his lips as he almost fell. He smiled back, teeth clashing into yours as he pressed his bare skin to yours. You both stepped into the shower, not even caring that the water wasn't warm enough yet. 

His tongue slid down your throat, caressing the roof of your mouth, exploring the uncharted territory. Water spilled over your heads, dripping down your faces, drenching your hair. His hand gripped the back of your head as he slammed you into the wall of the shower, causing you to gasp.

He pulled away for a second, his eyes heavy, his lips parted as water dripped down his beautiful face. He pressed his forehead against yours—feeling as though this scene was all he’d ever wanted; it was premeditated—not a quick decision.

He blinked away the water, smiling before enveloping you in another kiss—this time, it was less lustful and more desperate. He breathed into your soul, his hands cradling your face with all the tender care he could muster. His breaths were shaky, and his hold on you was tight, as if there was somehow, someway, you would break away from his embrace.

You bit into his lip, your hands never finding a home as they explored all the planes of his body. He grunted as you reached for his dick, his eyes glimmering at your expression. No words were needed—he gave you one last look before flipping you around, shoving your face into the fall, and sticking his dick into your entrance. His lips were nibbling at your ear, his hot breath delicately stroking your body and soul.

He didn't push past your entrance just yet—no, but his fingers did. They glided over your clit from the back, your breasts aching from being pressed against the tile. He let out a little hum of a moan into your ear as his fingers entered you, two of them. You whimpered in delight, the movements turning you on more and more. You felt yourself getting wetter and wetter, his fingers curling up inside you, his shallow breaths echoing in your mind. 

You couldn't take it anymore—you needed him inside you, now.

“I need you in me,” you moaned against the tile, tilting your head slightly to see his expression. “Now, please. God, please.”

He smirked, moving you now to the far wall, your back still to him. You nearly slammed your head into the wall as he moved you.

“As you wish,” he breathed, his voice dripping with lust, with love, with unknown feelings. With a quick movement, he shoved his dick inside you, causing you to arch your back from the fill. You cried out, holding onto the wall as he gripped your hips, moving rhythmically and melodicly. You furrowed your brows in pleasure, muttering his name. “Oh, San,” you moaned, causing him to move even faster.

The water crashed onto you, making you feel even higher than ever were before. The heat of it was scolding now, but nothing beat how hot San made you feel—he was indeed a genius in the manner of lovemaking, a god, at that. You knew why, everyone knew why, but you didn't care at the moment. The only thing you cared about was his body on yours, in yours, all around you.

You were reaching your high, your vision hazy. You let out a cry, a huff, something to show that you were enjoying him, and he made a sound, too.

As you reached your climax, you arched your back even more, shoving your face against the wall, your forehead thumping against it with every thrust of his. You came on his dick then, your body fighting the urge to shake from the feeling he supplied you. 

He felt it—you knew it, as he quickened his pace, his breaths becoming more uneven as the time went on, your body tightening around him. He hissed sharply, thrusting with grace until he emptied himself into you, coating you, becoming one within you.

He collapsed into you, against the wall, his dick slipping out from you. He huffed, catching his breath as the bathroom filled with steam and sweat. You turned around in his embrace, his head falling onto your shoulder with a thud.

And then he started to laugh.

A laugh so beautiful, so….raw. You began to laugh with him, smiling as you grabbed his cheeks to lift up his head—so he could see you. 

His eyes were red, but they sparkled with so much emotion that you wondered how he was feeling. 

“So,” you smiled, watching the water from the showerhead drip over his black hair. “Happy New Year, I guess?”

He smiled—a smile that made you want to stop everything.

And then his eyes widened. “What time is it?”

You frowned. “I don't know, my phone is downstairs,” you whispered, locking eyes with him.

He paused for a moment, not knowing what to do, or at least that’s what you believed until he leaned forward and brushed his lips to yours ever so gently.

A kiss for a lover. A kiss more meaningful than sex could offer.

He pulled away, but only slightly, as his forehead rested against yours. “Happy New Year,” he kissed you again. “Just in case it is midnight. You haven't been my New Year’s kiss since years ago, you know.”

You didn't know what to say—you weren't sure where he was going with this, as you had never brought up your kiss with him before. He spoke cautiously, yet without caution at all.

“I….well,” you swallowed hard, looking up at him shyly. “You can be my….new years kiss every year, if you’d like.”

He smiled—grinned like a wild animal at your words.

“Well, if you don't mind, I’d like to kiss you more than once a year.” he grabbed you by the waist swiftly, smirking,

You giggled like you were experiencing this for the first time. In all honesty, you may be. No one has ever made you feel this way. You never wanted anything more.

With a flirty smile, you leaned forward into his embrace, the shower hissing in the background of your confessions. 

“I would love that.” you nodded, looking up into his eyes. 

He looked like a dream, his hair wet, his eyes bright. You couldn't wait to share more New Year's kisses with him, more showers, more cookies. You wanted everything and more—even if you didn't exactly know it quite just yet.

He was your everything—Your heart never belonged to you—no, it always belonged to him. And you will never forget it.

[moderarato]

🤎 moderarato’s interactive fiction OC list 🤎

(full character breakdown under the cut!)

Celeste “Este” Davies | she/her | bi

oil paintings / iced coffee / rocky beaches / pastels / arching an eyebrow / fields of long grass / pink peppercorn / home-cooked meals / balling hands into fists / heart-shaped sunglasses 

Lux Laveau | she/her | pan

lace / perfume / popping bubble-gum / fashion / cottage-core / fairy tales / magic / spritzers / heels / cakes / holidays / dinner parties / twirling hair / winking / lip gloss / fresh bouquets 

Paloma Sloane | she/her | bi

worn-in denim / noirs / night drives / coding / pine trees / alchemy / newspapers / cheap whiskey / organized mess / glasses on chains / reading under moonlight / pens in hair

Selma {No Set Surname} | she/they | bi

black and tuxedo cats / absurdism / stick & poke tattoos / junk food / heavy rain / silent nods / platform boots / thrillers / ivy / polaroids / taking the train to the end of the line / 90s goth 

Iah Moritz | they/he | pan

disco balls / nail polish / playful eye-rolls / dancing / vintage couture / sour candy / skateboards / cigarettes / early 2000s tech / leaning on surfaces / classic comics / talking with hands 

Dorothea “Dot” Eames | she/her | bi/demi

neutrals / folding hands / heirlooms / cashmere / handwritten letters / marble / minimalism / museums / matte lipstick / foxes / earl grey tea / autumn / strong eye-contact / trench coats

Arturo “Art” Belmonte | he/him | gay

historical fiction / layered clothing / piercings / hands in pockets / thrifting / old cities / mythology / over-ear headphones / sitting by windows / awkward laughs / scones & coffee  

Cewê Cizîrî | she/they | pan

night skies / scrapbooking / dandelions / pleased smiles / saffron / pushing hair back / gentle breezes / long dresses / tea sets / gardens / birdsong / people-watching / quiet confidence 

Delphine Moon | she/her | lesbian

vanilla / swans / pearls / late-night studying / chess / heavy snow / horseback riding / silently judging / white wine / perfect posture / perfume bottles / armoires with mirrors

Reina “Rei” {No Set Surname}  | she/they | bi

art galleries / baggy blazers and clothes / 80s anime / tote bags / sarcasm / aimless walks / matcha lattes / eyeliner / film scores / dining out alone / charcoal sketches

Sorn Ly  | any pronouns | pan

road trips / faded scars / banana leaves / biting nails / pottery / surfing / olives / sunsets / rolling shoulders back / hair ties on wrists / scoffing / long afternoons / humidity / walking barefoot

Frances Wiseman | she/him | demi/lesbian

cowboy boots / fruits / picking flowers / running / french new wave / messy hair / sun-kissed skin / oversized jackets / late summer / bass playing / crossing arms

[dustedmagazine]

Sheer Mag — Playing Favorites (Third Man)

Photo by Christopher Grady

The tracks on Sheer Mag’s initial run of 7”s burst out of a recording fidelity too pinched to contain them. The effect was almost a mash-up; sui generis yet familiar, an infectious collage. Something like Michael Jackson circa 1969 fronting the Rock ‘n’ Roll Animal band, taped on a boombox. Those technical constraints haven’t really been present since their first full-length album, 2017’s Need to Feel Your Love — for better (the space and clarity to match the auditory ambition) and worse (a loss of immediacy and, with it, some vitality). Playing Favorites  was originally planned as a disco EP, but instead the band fleshes out ideas they’ve touched on before; we hear more of the glossy Earth, Wind & Fire boogie from Need to Feel Your Love’s title track, for example. They embellish old sounds with new textures — dub drum patterns and countrified finger slides among them — and, more than ever, emphasize the dance music that’s always bopped and wiggled under the joy buzzer riffing.

“All Lined Up” is the purest nod to disco of the bunch with a jangle and shake of bright, clean guitar, motoring bass and a rapid bongo line. It’s as close as Sheer Mag comes to CHIC, but doesn’t tip over into pastiche, with vocalist Tina Halladay still lifting off into her trademark yowl over Kyle Seely’s shooting star guitar leads. True to its title, Playing Favorites is still, despite the varied palette, obviously a Sheer Mag album and not without its share of more or less straightforward, beat-up-leather-jacket rockers. More or less, because even these often push the band’s sonic parameters. When the blazing guitar duel that opens the Mdou Moctar-assisted “Mechanical Garden” fades into a string section, or when “Eat It and Beat It” dips in and out of industrial, Frippian shredding and practically animatronic backing vocals, a window opens on a more experimental, sprawling direction. Less experimental, but seemingly destined to close out encores, is “Golden Hour,” made of equal parts Allman Brothers, “The Boys Are Back in Town” and “Reelin’ In The Years.” As Halladay levitates, repeating “streaming down/streaming down,” the Seelys and Palmer match her full-throated, nostalgic delivery with a sun shower of southern rock, right down to the organ break. On an album where the curiosity and genre dabbling can be taxing in the aggregate, “Golden Hour” is a stirring example of Sheer Mag hitting a sweet spot closer to their previous marks.

The centerpiece of Playing Favorites, though, and what might be, given its genesis, the album’s raison d'etre, is “Moonstruck.” It’s where the band’s foray into bringing the funk up front with the six-string heroics really breaks through. Hart Seely’s slapped bass and the swaggering guitars of Matt Palmer and Kyle Seely deliver a stout, shimmering instrumental to which the listener must move, and amid which Halladay does her inimitable, pugilistic thing, switching styles from conversational to commanding (sample interjection: “c’mon you son of a bitch!”). It’s groovy, hard-nosed and glamorous. The relished, gleeful line “I might have started a brawl/When I smashed that disco ball/But the smile on your face made me feel so fancy free” is as good a summation as any of Sheer Mag’s enduring magic and of Playing Favorites at its best.

Alex Johnson

[giantkillerjack]

Junji Ito makeup test #1

OR

Figuring out what I need in order to create a music video parody of the song "Gloria" by Laura Branigan, but make it about Tomie. I will be playing the part of a 1980s pop disco singer in the style of Junji Ito. This is high art in progress, people! 😘😂😅

photos of first test:

additional digital notes made using Clip Studio:

main takeaways:

So first off, where the fuck did my stage makeup go??? I had no idea it was missing until today!! I ended up using the makeup from when I used to perform as a mime. (Not a joke, but in a larger, cosmic sense, kind of a joke. 😆 I'll probably do it again sometime. I was adorable as a little soft butch gay mime!)

I now remember why I stopped using the dry cake face paint and switched to wet paint in a tube BUT I CANNOT FIND THE TUBESSS

I'm out of eyeliner in general, but for this, I need some kind of extra thin/fine eyeliner and preferably more than a thimble-full of paint for it.

Maybe I can thin out some matte black face paint and also get like a really nice fine brush? I guess it depends on if the paint is water-soluble.

I should probably check to see if I already have these materials, which would be SO MUCH EASIER IF I COULD FIND MY FUCKING STAGE MAKEUP--

Either way the lines need to be super thin, straight, clean, and parallel to each other. Or I could look at the rougher cross-hatching Ito sometimes uses, but I suspect tidier lines will look best with makeup.

Luckily, I already have an entire burlesque/drag act where I make myself look like a character from a black and white film. Between that and the mime thing, I theoretically have all the white gloves I will ever need lol. I guess I'm going to need white leggings, since the light gray ones won't work for this. Junji Ito is not generally greyscale as much as literally black and white.

Do I own makeup primer? I feel like yes. It definitely sounds like a good idea.

I KNOW FOR A FACT I DIDN'T THROW OUT MY STAGE MAKEUP because I had quality skin-safe glitter in basically every color, and only a FOOL would throw that out!!!!

Gloria is a song from 1983 with disco balls in the music video. Do I want to incorporate more style choices from 1983? Should I buy a wig? Something with shoulder pads maybe?? I guess that means I can keep the thick eyebrows...

Actually upon further research, I do need a sequinned shirt for this. Possibly a sequin leotard with a shiny belt. And leg warmers. OH! And a jacket with just the biggest shoulder pads I can find! Or at least the closest thing I can find to this outfit in one trip to a thrift store

Every 1980s music videos seems to have a person with their hair and clothing flowing in the wind. Now, I could buy a fan. But much funnier and cheaper would be a shot of my hair blowing in the wind that then pans to a friend furiously fanning me with a piece of cardboard or something. (Which means I'd need either two people helping with this shot, or I just have to accept that the shot's going to look kind of blurry by doing the zoom-out in post. Oh gods, I would have to write a proper shot list ahhhhhh--)

Honestly, blurry footage seems fine in some parts. I'm probably going to add some dreamy soft filters anyway to make it look like pre-digital 35mm film from an 80s vid.

I'm going to need some fake blood to splatter at me in the middle of the video. Obviously. So I guess that bit will need to be filmed outside.

The good news is the fact that the nearest easiest filming location for me is a alley full of dumpsters is actually really appropriate for this video. XD

Should I do the distressed eyebrows that a lot of Junji Ito characters have? Note to try that in the next test along with a The Crow-like smile. (My go-to high school Halloween costume. Damn, I have been painting my already pasty-pale face even whiter for a while now! 😅)

Other progress made on this project today:

I recorded myself singing a voice memo along to the rhythm of the karaoke version of Gloria that's on YouTube, but in it, I'm singing in the key that is appropriate to my voice. (A couple half-steps down, I think.)

Next step will be to load that clip onto my computer and adjust the karaoke version to match its pitch. And then like, practice the song with my new personalized backing track.

If i actually finish this, I'll have to re-record the backup vocals to say the right name.

Also the next step will be to see if my interest in this lasts long enough to at least get me to find my frickin' stage makeup.

Additional notes:

The original music video for Holding Out for a Hero is exactly the right energy for this, and now I absolutely need shots of me in front of (badly green-screened) flames, on my knees while singing passionately and directly at the camera and presumably wearing kneepads tbh

Omg what if I included a little "photoshoot" sequence and really fucked with the photos to make them all blurry-body-horror nasty as they flash by real quick?? Get like, a glitch effect in the mix hell yeah 😎😎😎

Edit: Omg i just remembered I have these short-shorts with a reanimator quote on the ass! ("Blasphemy? Before what god?") i know what shorts to wear for this now!!

Oh! Another idea! What if the video starts with me reading Tomie and then closing the book and picking up the nearest microphone-shaped thing and using that to start singing - and every 30 seconds or so of footage, it quietly changes to a different item (one of which is absolute the black wand vibrator that I have XD)

Note: I can easily shorten the song if I only have funny shots planned for like 2/3 of the song length. No need to get too repetitive.

[theageoftheunderstatement]

Spin: Arctic Monkeys Hit A New Gear

Written By Steve Appleford, 18/10/2022

It’s a warm, cloudless night in Los Angeles when the Arctic Monkeys step onto a festival stage at the far edge of Chinatown. They’re confident English dudes in windbreakers and leather jackets, picking up their instruments and arriving to the sound of Stan Kenton’s 1970 instrumental recording of the standard “Here Comes That Rainy Day,” a song both muted and deeply emotional, wounded and effervescent.

The sound is a clue to the state of a rock band caught at another moment of evolution, equally connected to their past, present and future, still rockers at their core after two decades, but aspiring to expand beyond that. The Monkeys are here headlining the final day of Primavera Sound, the international Barcelona-based festival making its U.S. debut in L.A., drawing 50,000 fans into the city.

The Arctic Monkeys have been at this since they were teenage mates bashing out modern guitar rock with emotion and bite, quickly growing into superstars in the UK, and festival headliners in the U.S. and everywhere else. The band’s core band members – singer Alex Turner, drummer Matt Helders, guitarist Jamie Cook and bassist Nick O’Malley – are augmented tonight by three other players. The sound is arch and sophisticated, like a next-generation Roxy Music, noisy and unruffled through clanging guitars, alluring piano melodies and lyrics wide open to interpretation.

The biggest international hits would come later in the set, but early on they share a song from the band’s new album, The Car, a shimmery funk tune called “I Ain’t Quite Where I Think I Am.” The song is ready for the dancefloor or your nearest smoke-filled room, as Turner’s voice goes higher, if not quite falsetto, singing soulfully of a dystopian future (or dystopian present): “Freaky keypad by the retina scan…”

With a disco ball at his feet, Turner doesn’t say much between songs, but never comes off as distant, either leaning into the mic or strumming his guitar. When he does speak, the words are as opaque as his lyrics, ending one song with a teasing: “Yes, you like that? I understand loud and clear. Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

Two weeks later, Turner is in the mostly deserted bar of a small boutique hotel on Hollywood Blvd., wearing an embroidered Guatemalan shirt over a faded black top. He sits at a table with a nearly empty bottle of sparkling water and a small paper coffee cup, a lick of dark hair dangling stylishly over his forehead.

As a host, Turner is perfectly relaxed and cordial, but chooses his words carefully during our interview, finding the messages he wants to convey slowly. Seeing his words in print since he was barely 20 no doubt brought him to this careful state, but he also looks pleased when you recognize one or another inspirational touchstone (Mick Ronson, Brian Wilson, etc.) in the new songs.

In town to talk up the album, the bar is a convenient meeting place. On the wall behind him is a collection of ancient class photographs, of strapping young men in school, on sports teams, all forgotten memories from the last century. “I hadn’t noticed that. Actually just been too busy making it all about me,” Turner says with a knowing laugh.

The whole band lived in L.A. for a time, but now only drummer Matt Helders remains, and between Monkeys projects is a member in good standing of Joshua Homme’s rotating crew of players and accomplices. (Which meant being recruited in 2015-16 for Iggy Pop’s Post Pop Depression.) While Turner still likes to squeeze in some quality time in the city, he now mostly bounces between London and Paris, usually accompanied by the French singer-songwriter Louise Verneuil.

A few days after Primavera, the band headed out to New York for a quick visit to premiere more songs from The Car on The Tonight Show and at Brooklyn’s Kings Theatre. It’s an album The Guardian has already praised as a wide-ranging collection of “Portishead-stark noir, improbably catchy yacht-funk and … poppy bombast.”

Two decades after forming as a band of neighborhood teenagers in Sheffield, England, the Arctic Monkeys have maintained relevance as artists and hitmakers by following their own creative impulses rather than passing trends. They began as excitable rockers with flinty bad attitude and pop instincts, quickly hitting No. 1 in the UK with their anxious second and third singles, “I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor” and “When the Sun Goes Down.” Compare that with The Car, and the evolution to music of increasing sophistication is startling and undeniable, with Turner growing from sneering punk to multiple layers of feeling.

Historically, you might compare Turner and the Monkeys’ evolution to Bowie’s mid-’70s leap from edgy rocker Ziggy Stardust to the deeply emotional crooner of Station to Station and Heroes, and still always sounding like no one but himself. Helders began to notice a change in the vocals when Turner started working with his other project the Last Shadow Puppets, which then carried over into the Monkeys. “It was less shouty and fast and more like Walker Brothers singing. He’s leaned into that a lot more vocally. I’m like, ‘Oh wow. You’re actually a singer now,” Helders says later on the phone, laughing.

In 2022, as much as the sound has changed over time, Turner insists the core quartet is still “following our instincts, which is precisely what we were doing in the summer of 2002.” They were kids then, and songs were composed in that early stage around their abilities in the rehearsal space, designed to be played live in a small club. They now record music with no concerns about recreating the same sounds onstage, allowing their creative impulses to drive the recordings.

He’d grown up surrounded by music, his father, David Turner, a big band musician and educator who actually sat in with the Last Shadow Puppets during a 2016 set in Berlin, blowing sax on “The Dream Synopsis.” That early influence not only reached young Alex, but the friends who came over to the house, including future members of the Arctic Monkeys.

Long before he was a musician himself, Helders heard a lot of mysterious sounds from the distant past at the Turner home that most neighborhood kids were not, learning of an earlier generation’s iconic figures that definitely weren’t being written about in NME.

“When I went around to his house – which was often – big band and jazz and swing was on,” says Helders. “It has always been a powerful thing for Alex. And me too. When I first saw Buddy Rich playing drums on TV, it was before I played drums. I didn’t really understand what was happening. I was like, ‘Whoa, this is blowing my mind!’

“There’s just so much feeling when you listen to music like that,” he adds, noting their current use of Stan Kenton as intro music. “Musically it’s like a masterclass. We’re not quite there yet, but maybe it is enough to know what skill level we’d like to be at.”

The musical lessons kept coming, even as the Monkeys grew into a leading force in a new wave of British rock and pop music, with their every move documented and scrutinized.

The band experienced a career-altering revelation while working with Homme as co-producer on 2009’s Humbug, which in hindsight looms even larger in their story. Rolling out into the high desert to make that album with the Queens of the Stone Age leader opened their eyes to the freedom available to them as artists. Getting weird was something to be embraced, not avoided.

Helders says, “It was Josh who said, ‘Whatever you do in this room, it’s still you. No one can tell you it’s not you. You’re doing it.’ As simple as that sounds, it makes sense. It made us feel like, Oh, we can do whatever we want.”

They’d first met the tall, redheaded rocker backstage at a Belgium rock festival. “We heard him coming down the corridor shouting ‘Monkeys! Monkeys!’” Turner recalls with a smile. Arctic Monkeys had been open in the press about being fans of QOTSA, and now, “He’d come looking for us.”

After that encounter, Domino label co-founder Laurence Bell suggested they reach out to Homme to see if he would be interested in producing. He said yes, and guided the band through seven songs on Humbug. (Four other tracks were produced by longtime collaborator James Ford in New York City.) Looking back, Helders says their first trip with Homme to the Rancho de la Luna recording studio, way out on the edges of Joshua Tree, “felt like I was on another planet.”

“Had we not had that experience at that time, I’d question whether we would still be going now,” Turner says thoughtfully. “At that moment, it felt as if we were put in a bit of a dead end, and creatively it felt like we’d ran out of steam a little bit.”

The Monkeys eventually returned to Joshua Tree (minus Homme) and came back with the monster album of their career to that point, 2013’s AM, which reached platinum in both the UK and U.S. The songs mixed G-funk rhythms with their edgy guitar rock and Turner’s words of romance and ruin. Songs traveled from the crunchy riffs of “Arabella” to the swaggering, woozy funk of “Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High?” Mojo called the album “exciting, audacious work,” and NME declared, “Smart, randy and touched by genius.”

The wildly enthusiastic public reaction that greeted AM didn’t lock the band into a sound, or pressure them to produce sound-alike albums. If anything, it only freed Arctic Monkeys to do as they pleased, to follow their meandering muse wherever it led them.

The band’s last album, 2018’s sci-fi conceptual Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino, threw things for a loop. The Car is another step forward, unimaginable in their early days as a stripped-down rock act. Back then, the quartet were on a mission to be as new and original as they could. Helders made a point on the early records to create new beats that were flashy and technically difficult, looking to always “make this new weird thing,” he says.

“That was great for then and it matched what we were doing with the riffs and maybe the aggressiveness of the singing,” he adds. “Now I appreciate restraint and being able to play a groove in a really good way. It’s not any less fun for me, contrary to what it might look like. Even though the drumming is calm and more laid back, it’s as much fun as it is to play more showy.”

The new album’s gently urgent closing track, “Perfect Sense,” came together quickly, with strings mingling with drum beats to create a swirling Brian Wilson flavor. The Beach Boys maestro “has always had a place in my heart,” Turner says. “That’s been in the back of my mind since I was a five-year-old kid.”

The lyrics paint a murky, playful picture: “Having some fun with the warmup act/If that’s what it takes to say goodnight then that’s what it takes. … four figure sum on a hotel notepad … A revelation or your money back.”

“I suppose overall none of it makes a great deal of sense in the traditional sense,” Turner acknowledges happily. “It’s like when you’re trying to leave a party and this is like the fifth attempt. Okay, now I’m really going. That’s what it sounds like to me.”

On the album cover is a photograph shot by Helders in downtown Los Angeles, looking down at a lone car parked on a rooftop lot amid other tall buildings in 2019. The drummer is serious about photography, has published a book of pictures from the Tranquility Base sessions and shown in galleries. For that photograph, he was simply trying out a new lens on his Leica, walking around the city or shooting out his bedroom window, inspired by vivid color work of master photographer William Eggleston.

Helders liked the picture and included it with some others he shared with Turner. “He was like, Oh, wow. He kept coming back to it, like, ‘There’s something about that photo. It tells a story somehow.’” The singer eventually wrote a song inspired by it, and began thinking of the album as The Car, with that image as the cover.

On the title track, as Helders plays brushes on record for the first time, Turner sings his evocative, mysterious, disjointed lyrics: “Your grandfather’s guitar, thinking about how funny I must look trying to adjust to what’s been there all along ... But it ain’t a holiday until you go to fetch something from the car.”

Ahead of the sessions with the band, Turner wrote and recorded preliminary demo versions of the songs, written half on acoustic guitar, half on piano. He sensed where the album was headed when he landed on the instrumental section that begins the opening track “There’d Better Be a Mirrorball.” “That felt right,” he says, “and of course the words have to get on board with that.”

They recorded basic tracks for The Car in an ancient, 700-year-old house called Butley Priory in the English countryside of Suffolk. With arched windows and walls made of stone, the two-story building has recently been refurbished as an elegant venue for weddings and other events. With producer Ford, the Monkeys rented it out and transformed it into a studio.

Says Helders, “We managed to make it feel like a place you wanted to make a record.”

The idea was to somehow replicate scenes Turner had read about, of Led Zeppelin or the Rolling Stones camping out at a large country home, and parking a mobile recording truck outside. In the ‘70s, a truck had to be packed with recording gear: tape machine, mixing board, speakers, plus engineers and the producer, with cables running into the house.

Loren Humphrey, a frequent Monkeys engineer in recent years, had given Turner a copy of the book The Great British Recording Studios, and the singer became fascinated with its pictures of the famous Stones Mobile Studio unit, with its linoleum floor and history of recording multiple classic rock albums. Modern digital equipment has made the need for a mobile unit mostly obsolete, but the idea of recording at a home in the country stuck in his mind.

“That was kind of the dream idea, but we didn’t quite make it all the way to the linoleum floor in the truck,” he says with a grin. Band and crew instead loaded in their gear and computers and got to work. The band also lived on-site during the recording, and between sessions would gather in front of broadcasts of the 2021 UEFA European Football Championship, where England got to the final.

“That was a pretty exciting time in England then, and we were all watching the games and hanging out,” says Turner. “We hadn’t seen each other for a while and I think that got that kind of the energy of the band back together again.” Helders recalls sessions being structured around soccer viewing. “It really dictated the mood,” the drummer says. “If England had a bad game, it wasn’t going to be a good day in the studio.”

For the band, now looking back at 20 years of history, the sessions were a throwback to the Monkeys’ debut album, Whatever People Say I Am, That’s What I’m Not, recorded in 2005 at Chapel Studio in the countryside of South Thoresby. That album might not have happened any other way.

“If we were in a city, we would’ve never finished that record,” Helders says with a laugh. “We needed the discipline of like, ‘Okay, we need to do a song every day. We don’t want any distractions.’ We were just teenagers.”

Sessions for The Car were delayed for a year because of COVID-19 restrictions. It took time for Helders to get back to England from L.A., and he was required to arrive first so he could quarantine ahead of the rest of the band and crew. But Turner used the year to refine his songs, to experiment and explore “a few blind alleys” without concerns about time.

Later, vocals and overdubs were recorded in another house in France, where Turner picked up a 16mm movie camera and captured footage of the band at work, handing it off during his vocals. Some of those grainy color and black-and-white moments turn up in the music video for “There’d Better Be a Mirrorball.”

“I found that having the camera kind of removed me a bit from the situation and hopefully allowed a bit more space for the band to fill,” he says now of his foray into filmmaking. “It gradually transformed itself into a promotional music video, so it all happened pretty naturally.”

In London, strings were recorded at RAK Studios, not to add “sweetness” but evoke complex emotions. That final ingredient is essential to the sound of The Car, contributing to its 10 tracks a consistent personality, a bit like an old Sinatra record as arranged by Nelson Riddle.

“Those arrangements of Sinatra were definitely on when I was in the passenger seat as a kid,” says Turner, whose songwriting usually begins on piano, where he sometimes drifts towards the kind of chord structures his father played at home. “But obviously it’s not swinging quite in the way that stuff is.”

For all the willingness to slow down and use understatement along with noisy guitars, the Monkeys remain at their core a rock band. So Turner embraced the idea of using each piece only as needed, with the strings rising at one moment, then disappearing as the rock instruments roar back. With Tranquility Base, the band looked to create a consistent sound and mood from song to song, and The Car takes that a step further, sounding like a larger work rather than a collection of songs.

“I think we’ve done a better job this time with the dynamics of the whole thing, like allowing each element to have its space and come into focus and disappear when the time is right,” he says. “I felt like there had to be some caution, like the alarms going off: Don’t just go throwing the strings on top of the rock band sort of thing. Let’s try and find a way that it can sort of take turns. There was an idea before the record about splicing two things together from a totally different time and space.”

“Body Paint” captures that balance, starting gently with strings before leading to an explosive guitar piece played by guest Tom Rowley. Turner hadn’t imagined that particular crescendo when laboring over the song alone in a room, before reinterpreting it with the full band. “Having everybody there, it gives you that energy of the band you can’t really replicate,” he says, adding he welcomes the surprises.

There is also an undeniable strain of funk across the songs, which marks a different kind of blast from their past. “It did probably start with opening the drawer and finding the old wah-wah pedal again from 15 years ago,” says Turner. “I’m thinking, ‘Wow, let’s audition that again in this creative juncture.’ When we played it in rehearsal in the first place, it was exciting to sort of blow the dust off the wah-wah pedal.”

That makes The Car a record they could only have made now. The original sound and energy of the Arctic Monkeys wasn’t ready for it. They weren’t self-aware enough to have such aspirations.

“We wouldn’t have been able to do this 10 years ago, or 15 years ago,” confirms Helders. “Everyone sort of learned their instruments at the same time, at the same pace and got better. We’ve got to a place where we can make music like this.

"I think everything happened at the right time.”

[glass-needles-and-futurisms]

A good day to everyone, especially to Matt's sparkly disco ball jacket in the Liberation music video

[kittenofdoomage]

Sinful Sunday: Surprise

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Steve Rogers x wife!reader

Word Count: 1419

Warnings: smut, fluff, awkward stripping to Pony

You’d never really been one for celebrating your birthday but it had felt rude to turn down Nat’s offer of a few drinks at a local bar. Clint and Bruce had joined you, and you had to admit, you’d had a good time, even if they’d embarrassed you with a single-candle cupcake and insisted on singing to you.

When you’d tried to make your excuses at around nine, Nat had been stubbornly insistent on keeping you there, rousing your suspicions. You conceded to another hour and another drink, watching your friend closely as she kept nervously glancing at the clock.

At ten, you grabbed your jacket, getting to your feet. “Thanks guys,” you smiled, “I had a really good night.”

“I’ll walk you back,” Nat insisted, standing beside you.

“It’s only a couple blocks -”

“I insist,” the redhead grinned, tilting her head. “Steve wouldn’t forgive me otherwise.”

You smirked. “Steve knows I can take care of myself,” you replied, sliding your arms into your coat. “But I suppose having a Russian assassin with me would be beneficial.” Nat grinned, looping her arm through yours. “Goodnight, gentleman.”

Clint smiled and waved as Bruce returned the sentiment, both of them apparently content to remain behind with their beers. Slipping through the crowd, you and Nat stepped out onto the sidewalk, walking in companionable silence towards your apartment.

“Want me to walk you to your door?” she asked as you approached the building.

You pulled away from her, shaking your head. “I’m good. I’ll see you Friday?”

“Sure thing,” she chuckled, shoving her hands into her jacket pockets. “Enjoy the rest of your birthday, Y/N.” The way she spoke made you frown but before you could say anything, she turned away, heading back towards the bar.

Dismissing it as your imagination, you unlocked the door to your building and climbed the steps, looking forward to a book and a warm cup of tea. With Steve out of town, you hadn’t planned anything for the evening; mostly, you were moping that he couldn’t be there. He hadn’t text you for a few hours too, which was unlike him, especially on your birthday.

The apartment was dark when you stepped inside, which gave you pause since you had turned the lights off before you left. Flicking the switch didn’t do anything, so you closed the door quietly and reached for the knife you kept in your boot. Pulling it out, you tiptoed down the hall to the lounge, listening for any sign of an intruder.

Lingering the lounge doorway, you went for the lamp, freezing when a voice split the darkness. “Don’t.”

You lifted your head, peering into the dark, unable to see anything. “Steve?”

Your husband chuckled. “You can put the knife down.”

Puzzled but no longer on edge, you did as he asked, putting it on the table with the lamp. “What are you doing?” you asked curiously. “How are you home?”

“Mission finished early,” he replied, shuffling about in the dark, and you squinted, trying to see what he was doing. “I flew home to surprise you. Nat distracted you for me.”

“Seriously,” you giggled, shaking your head at his behavior, “what are you doing over there?”

“This,” he replied, flicking a switch. A disco ball came on, flooding the room with multicolored lights and you shielded your eyes briefly, shock covering your face as you saw what he was doing.

Every piece of furniture had been moved to the sides of the room, with a single chair in the middle. Steve was dressed in jeans and a shirt, his feet bare, a nervous smile on his face. The stereo started to emit a low beat, making you jump with the sudden sound of “Pony” and the familiarity of it made a smile spread across your lips.

“Oh my god,” you giggled, covering your mouth in surprise.

Steve’s smile wobbled and he gestured to the chair. “Would you mind?” he asked, offering you a hand.

You accepted it, allowing him to lead you to the chair. He pulled at your jacket, taking it from your shoulders to toss it at the couch in the corner. “Are you seriously gonna strip for me?” you laughed, watching him as he moved to stand a little awkwardly in front of you. “Steve -”

“I’ve been practising,” he interrupted earnestly. “I know it’s one of your favorite movies.”

Clamping your mouth shut, you gestured to the floor. “Strip away.”

He nodded, smiling nervously. The song picked up a little, and the first few small movements he made were stiff, making you grin affectionately. Steve was careful not to look at you, obviously concentrating on his well-rehearsed routine, which only made your affection for him grow.

His shirt came off, button by button, and you clenched your fingers around the underside of the chair, wondering if it was the alcohol making you feel a little warmer. Steve kept moving, his super-soldier enhanced body making every move easy, and his confidence grew as the song went on. When he finally looked at you, the intensity of his gaze made you swallow and squeeze your thighs together.

It felt like the whole world melted away as Steve pulled the white vest up over his head before dropping down to grind against the floor. You giggled as the gyrating movement was more reminiscent of his morning pushups rather than Matt Bomer making love to a stage, and when he got to his knees, he crawled towards you, moving in for a kiss.

“You can stop now,” you laughed, grabbing for him.

“I’m committed,” he replied, winking as he got up, unbuckling his belt. You shifted on the chair, sitting forward to watch intently, and when he unbuttoned the pants, shoving them down, you briefly wondered if he’d actually gone the whole way and worn a thong.

Sadly, his perky ass was completely covered by his usual white boxers, and you reached out, stopping him as he finally got his jeans off and went for his underwear. When your hands caught his, he looked at you in bewilderment before something snapped, and he pulled you out of the chair.

“Bedroom,” you hissed against his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck. Steve was quick to respond, practically scooping you from the floor to carry you out of the lounge towards the bedroom, kicking the door open. You fell to the bed with him in a hot tangled mess, trying to strip your own clothes with far less grace than he’d displayed.

“Lemme help,” he murmured, sliding down to pull your boots off, helping you with your jeans and underwear until he could haul your naked body against his own, engaging you in a passionate kiss. “You got no idea how much I missed you.”

You grabbed his ass, smirking at him. “I’ve got some idea.”

Steve chuckled, kissing you again as he finally removed his boxers, grinding into you. “Happy birthday, Mrs. Rogers.”

Your witty retort was cut off by a cry as he pressed the tip of his cock into you, sliding home with one smooth stroke that stole your breath. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you met his lips eagerly, lifting your knees to rest your feet against his ass. 

Sensing your need, Steve groaned as he pulled back and slammed in hard, almost shifting the bed on the wooden floor. You whined, meeting him kiss for kiss, raking your nails across his shoulders as he fucked you, clinging to you like you might disappear on him. He poured every second of the last month he’d spent missing you into his touch, whispering your name over and over.

An orgasm swept over you, but your cry was muffled by a kiss. You writhed against him, core clenching as he slowed, and he lifted his head to look at you, smiling as he cupped your face. “I’m close,” he whispered.

“Inside me,” you begged softly. “Wanna feel it.”

His smile grew; he kissed you again, picking up pace as he chased his own end. In minutes, he was pumping into you, and you broke the kiss, crying out against his mouth. He slowed again, this time to a stop, coaxing you into soft lazy kisses. Eventually, he had to pull away, and you stretched out, smiling indulgently.

“Kinda glad I didn’t make any plans,” you quipped, eyes on Steve’s bare ass as he searched for some pants.

He grinned over at you. “This night is far from over.”

[nxtawitch]

Muse’s Aesthetics  !!

                         BOLD any which apply to your muse!                        Remember to REPOST! Feel free to add to the list!

[ COLORS ] red. brown. orange. yellow. green. blue. purple. pink. black. white. teal. silver. gold. grey. lilac. metallic. matte. royal blue. strawberry red. charcoal grey. forest green. apple red. navy blue. crimson. cream. mint green. lavender. copper. turquoise. amber. magenta. midnight. jade green. neon yellow. neon green. tan.

[ ELEMENTS ] fire. ice. water. air. earth. metal. spirit. rain. snow. wind. moon. stars. sun. heat. cold. steam. frost. lightning. sunlight. moonlight. dawn. dusk. twilight. midnight. sunrise. sunset. dewdrops. [ BODY ] claws. long fingers. fangs. teeth. wings. tails. lips. bare feet. freckles. bruises. canine. acne. scars. scratches. wounds. burns. spikes. fur. feathers. scales. webs. eyes. hands. tongue. sweat. tears. feline. chubby-faced. curvy. short. tall. busty. normal height. muscular. makeup. piercing. tattoos. dimples. plastic surgery. dyed hair. painted nails. amputation. 

[ WEAPONS ] fists. brass knuckles. sword. dagger. spear. arrow. hammer. shield. poison. guns. axes. throwing axes. whips. knives. throwing knifes. pepper sprays. tasers. machine guns. slingshots. katanas. maces. staffs. wands. powers. magical items. magic. rocks. mud balls. claws. razors. fighting fans. 

[ MATERIALS ] gold. silver. platinum. titanium. diamonds. pearls. rubies. sapphires. emeralds. amethyst. opal. topaz. jade. agate. bismuth. geodes. metal. iron. rust. steel. glass. wood. porcelain. paper. wool. fur. faux fur. lace. leather. silk. satin. velvet. denim. linen. cotton. charcoal. clay. stone. asphalt. brick. marble. granite. dust. glitter. blood. dirt. mud. smoke. ash. shadow. carbonate. rubber. synthetics. fool’s gold. fossils. sea glass. 

[ NATURE ] grass. leaves. pine trees. maple trees. palm trees. bark. roses. daisies. tulips. lavender. lilies. hibiscus. petals. thorns. seeds. vines. roots. hay. sand. rocks. flowers. ocean. river. meadow. forest. desert. tundra. savanna. swamps. rainforest. petrichor. caves. underwater. coral reef. beach. waves. space. clouds. mountains. shooting stars. rainbows. auroras. fjords. canyons. floods. droughts. thunderstorms. tornadoes. hurricanes. tsunamis. volcanoes. earthquakes. blizzards. meteors. constellations. comets. planets. seashells. driftwood. 

[ ANIMALS ] lions. tigers. bears. wolves. eagles. owls. falcons. hawks. swans. snakes. turtles. ducks. bugs. spiders. birds. whales. dolphins. fish. sharks. horses. zebras. giraffes. cats. dogs. bunnies. cows. sheep. pigs. goats. frogs. snails. praying mantises. butterflies. bees. wasps. crows. ravens. parrots. peacocks. mice. rats. hamsters. lizards. werewolves. unicorns. pegasus. phoenix. dragons. foxes. llamas. camels. 

[FOODS/DRINKS ] sugar. salt. candy. bubblegum. wine. champagne. hard liquor. beer. coffee. tea. kombucha. spices. herbs. apple. orange. lemon. lime. cherry. pineapple. strawberry. watermelon. cranberry. bananas. mango. coconut. pomegranate. vegetables. fruits. meat. fish. pies. cakes. desserts. chocolate. vanilla. hazelnut. peppermint. cream. caramel. berries. nuts. cinnamon. popcorn. pretzels. soda. burgers. burritos. pizza. pasta. ambrosia. lasagna. peanut butter. curry. bacon. soup. cheese. avocado. 

[ HOBBIES ] music. art. watercolors. gardening. smithing. sculpting. painting. sketching. fighting. thievery. writing. composing. cooking. sewing. cosplay. training. dancing. acting. singing. martial arts. self-defense. electronics. technology. blogging. vlogging. cameras. video cameras. video games. computer. phone. movies. theatre. libraries. books. magazines. cds. records. vinyls. cassettes. piano. violin. guitar. electronic guitar. bass guitar. harmonica. harp. woodwinds. brass. bells. sitar. keyboard. drums. percussion. marching band. drama. playing cards. poker chips. chess. dice. motorcycle riding. eating. climbing. running. partying. 

[ STYLE ] lingerie. armor. cape. dress. tunic. vest. blazer. shirt. boots. sneakers. slip-ons. sandals. heels. leggings. trousers. jeans. shorts. skirt. jewelry. earrings. necklace. bracelet. ring. pendant. hat. crown. circlet. helmet. scarf. brocade. cloaks. corsets. doublet. chest plate. gorget. bracers. belt. sash. coat. jacket. hood. gloves. socks. masks. cowls. braces. tie. watches. glasses. sun glasses. visor. eye contacts. makeup. bowties. canes. bows. 

[ MUSIC ] rock. pop. jazz. rap. r&b. hip-hop. funk. alternative. classical. trance. dubstep. edm. ebm. hardstyle. blues. latin. k-pop. j-pop. ambient. new age. metal. world fusion. dancehall. reggae. soca. punk. ska. singer-songwriter. folk. country. bluegrass. swing. opera. show tunes. a capella. minimalist. avant-garde. new wave. disco. baroque. symphonic metal. soundtrack. vaporwave. glitch. house. chillout. psychedelic rock. post-rock. cabaret. trip-hop. easy listening. trap. nightcore. indie. grunge. contemporary. black metal. metalcore. emo. screamo. rockabilly. parody. industrial. electro pop. 

[ MISC ] balloons. bubbles. fireworks. reflections. cityscape. cathedral. mosque. light. dark. candles. war. peace. money. power. percussion. clocks. photos. mirrors. pets. diary. fairy lights. madness. sanity. sadness. happiness. optimism. pessimism. loneliness. family. friends. assistants. co-workers. partner. enemies. loyalty. smoking. drugs. kindness. love. hugs. kisses. lies. angels. demons. fairies. elves. gnomes. 

Tagged by: @bloodofthefates​

Tagging: Anyone! 

[bloodofthefates]

STIORRA

 Muse’s Aesthetics  !!

                          BOLD any which apply to your muse!                         Remember to REPOST! Feel free to add to the list!

[ COLORS ] red. brown. orange. yellow. green. blue. purple. pink. black. white. teal. silver. gold. grey. lilac. metallic. matte. royal blue. strawberry red. charcoal grey. forest green. apple red. navy blue. crimson. cream. mint green. lavender. copper. turquoise. amber. magenta. midnight. jade green. neon yellow. neon green. tan.

[ ELEMENTS ] fire. ice. water. air. earth. metal. spirit. rain. snow. wind. moon. stars. sun. heat. cold. steam. frost. lightning. sunlight. moonlight. dawn. dusk. twilight. midnight. sunrise. sunset. dewdrops. [ BODY ] claws. long fingers. fangs. teeth. wings. tails. lips. bare feet. freckles. bruises. canine. acne. scars. scratches. wounds. burns. spikes. fur. feathers. scales. webs. eyes. hands. tongue. sweat. tears. feline. chubby-faced. curvy. short. tall. busty. normal height. muscular. makeup. piercing. tattoos. dimples. plastic surgery. dyed hair. painted nails. amputation. [ WEAPONS ] fists. brass knuckles. sword. dagger. spear. arrow. hammer. shield. poison. guns. axes. throwing axes. whips. knives. throwing knifes. pepper sprays. tasers. machine guns. slingshots. katanas. maces. staffs. wands. powers. magical items. magic. rocks. mud balls. claws. razors. fighting fans. [ MATERIALS ] gold. silver. platinum. titanium. diamonds. pearls. rubies. sapphires. emeralds. amethyst. opal. topaz. jade. agate. bismuth. geodes. metal. iron. rust. steel. glass. wood. porcelain. paper. wool. fur. faux fur. lace. leather. silk. satin. velvet. denim. linen. cotton. charcoal. clay. stone. asphalt. brick. marble. granite. dust. glitter. blood. dirt. mud. smoke. ash. shadow. carbonate. rubber. synthetics. fool’s gold. fossils. sea glass. [ NATURE ] grass. leaves. pine trees. maple trees. palm trees. bark. roses. daisies. tulips. lavender. lilies. hibiscus. petals. thorns. seeds. vines. roots. hay. sand. rocks. flowers. ocean. river. meadow. forest. desert. tundra. savanna. swamps. rainforest. petrichor. caves. underwater. coral reef. beach. waves. space. clouds. mountains. shooting stars. rainbows. auroras. fjords. canyons. floods. droughts. thunderstorms. tornadoes. hurricanes. tsunamis. volcanoes. earthquakes. blizzards. meteors. constellations. comets. planets. seashells. driftwood. [ ANIMALS ] lions. tigers. bears. wolves. eagles. owls. falcons. hawks. swans. snakes. turtles. ducks. bugs. spiders. birds. whales. dolphins. fish. sharks. horses. zebras. giraffes. cats. dogs. bunnies. cows. sheep. pigs. goats. frogs. snails. praying mantises. butterflies. bees. wasps. crows. ravens. parrots. peacocks. mice. rats. hamsters. lizards. werewolves. unicorns. pegasus. phoenix. dragons. foxes. llamas. camels. [FOODS/DRINKS ] sugar. salt. candy. bubblegum. wine. champagne. hard liquor. beer. coffee. tea. kombucha. spices. herbs. apple. orange. lemon. lime. cherry. pineapple. strawberry. watermelon. cranberry. bananas. mango. coconut. pomegranate. vegetables. fruits. meat. fish. pies. cakes. desserts. chocolate. vanilla. hazelnut. peppermint. cream. caramel. berries. nuts. cinnamon. popcorn. pretzels. soda. burgers. burritos. pizza. pasta. ambrosia. lasagna. peanut butter. curry. bacon. soup. cheese. avocado. [ HOBBIES ] music. art. watercolors. gardening. smithing. sculpting. painting. sketching. fighting. thievery. writing. composing. cooking. sewing. cosplay. training. dancing. acting. singing. martial arts. self-defense. electronics. technology. blogging. vlogging. cameras. video cameras. video games. computer. phone. movies. theatre. libraries. books. magazines. cds. records. vinyls. cassettes. piano. violin. guitar. electronic guitar. bass guitar. harmonica. harp. woodwinds. brass. bells. sitar. keyboard. drums. percussion. marching band. drama. playing cards. poker chips. chess. dice. motorcycle riding. eating. climbing. running. partying. [ STYLE ] lingerie. armor. cape. dress. tunic. vest. blazer. shirt. boots. sneakers. slip-ons. sandals. heels. leggings. trousers. jeans. shorts. skirt. jewelry. earrings. necklace. bracelet. ring. pendant. hat. crown. circlet. helmet. scarf. brocade. cloaks. corsets. doublet. chest plate. gorget. bracers. belt. sash. coat. jacket. hood. gloves. socks. masks. cowls. braces. tie. watches. glasses. sun glasses. visor. eye contacts. makeup. bowties. canes. bows. [ MUSIC ] rock. pop. jazz. rap. r&b. hip-hop. funk. alternative. classical. trance. dubstep. edm. ebm. hardstyle. blues. latin. k-pop. j-pop. ambient. new age. metal. world fusion. dancehall. reggae. soca. punk. ska. singer-songwriter. folk. country. bluegrass. swing. opera. show tunes. a capella. minimalist. avant-garde. new wave. disco. baroque. symphonic metal. soundtrack. vaporwave. glitch. house. chillout. psychedelic rock. post-rock. cabaret. trip-hop. easy listening. trap. nightcore. indie. grunge. contemporary. black metal. metalcore. emo. screamo. rockabilly. parody. industrial. electro pop. [ MISC ] balloons. bubbles. fireworks. reflections. cityscape. cathedral. mosque. light. dark. candles. war. peace. money. power. percussion. clocks. photos. mirrors. pets. diary. fairy lights. madness. sanity. sadness. happiness. optimism. pessimism. loneliness. family. friends. assistants. co-workers. partner. enemies. loyalty. smoking. drugs. kindness. love. hugs. kisses. lies. angels. demons. fairies. elves. gnomes. Tagged by: stolen from: @bubblegumxveil​ Tagging: @nxtawitch​ & anyone!

[sunburnacoustic]

Guys!!! So happy right now, just had the best night of my life! We got barrier, we were standing right in front of Matt and oh my god I need to collect my thoughts. So in no particular order:

1) We got Citizen Erased! Matt introduced it going, “we’re bringing out an old song for you all, from our second album” and everybody lost their minds. Complete with the piano outro, what a treat!

2) The WOTP masks and pyro are insane. In row 1, they’re even more insane (and hot). How do three little lads look so cool? Their designs are excellent!

3) Disco Ball jacket!

(Still in utter disbelief that these are my pictures… that I was up there!!)

4) Verona!!

The confetti is so special to me. Also for Verona is Matt’s new sunburst-like Strat-shaped Manson.

5) Speaking of guitars, the Mirror Manson lives!!! This alone has made my night, my week, my year, the Mirror Manson, or some reincarnation of it, is back on the road, and Matt used it for Plug In Baby, so honestly what more could I ask for?

This beloved guitar! And also, Matt did his fall-to-your-knees Plug In Baby moves so :)

6) I don’t have a picture of this but you’ve got to take my word for it— the squealing Kaoss pad call-and-response section: the face is back!

7) Speaking of faces! Chris’s blep :p

7.1) Duckface!

More Chris!

8) Undisclosed Desires is officially the new Muse In The Round song of the set ♥️♥️

(The picture quality sucks but it’s the sentiment of it all okay :’) )

9) Matt’s mushroom solo moment during The Dark Side

Matt is really like if a human with a guitar had a cat tree.

10) Dom! I couldn’t get super clear pictures of him though, his live camera was over on our side.

More to come…

[welllpthisishappening]

First-Line Center, Part Two

She hadn’t read the invitation.

It hadn’t changed in years, after all - a set of rules and expectations for a New Year’s party that they were all going to break anyway because the most traditional thing about this team was flouting tradition. So, Emma had mostly ignored it. Until. A shout and Killian refusing to wear a tie and something crashing in her kitchen, one kid worried about another and she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was missing something.

There was a joke about fresh ice to be made, she was sure.

—–

Word Count: 4.1 K Rating: F for festive family feelz AN: There are a lot of people in this story. Like. So many people. Matt Jones thinks his parents are the best, you heard it here first. And this also marks the end of Going Top Shelf on Ao3. There are still far too many one shots I haven’t posted and I don’t know that I’ll ever give up on this ‘verse or this family that is genuinely my most favorite thing to write. I will probably post the rest at some point. Thank you, as always, for letting me shove this family at you, internet. It’s the best. 

|| Also on Ao3 if that’s how you roll ||

—–

The loft, for the most part, hadn’t changed much in the last thirty or so years. Emma wasn’t entirely sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing – there were still crystal glasses and a wait staff with impeccably creased pants and the outfits, across the board, were as absurd and over the top as they normally were. 

It wasn’t much different. 

Except there were more people. There were kids and grandkids and significant others, a low hum of talking and laughing and every single one of them breaking that rule about not discussing hockey. Emma glanced around, trying to find the two other kids that she hadn’t seen yet, but that was a fool’s errand because she heard the footsteps before she heard the shout and the slightly strangled dad seemed to echo around the room as soon as Peggy skidded against Killian’s side. 

“Hey,” she breathed, eyes bright and just a little out of breath and Emma absolutely, positively did not want to consider why that was. She was starting to make several sweeping assumptions. Killian pressed a kiss to the top of her hair, eyes flashing towards Emma. “You guys doing that mind melding thing?” “That what thing, exactly?” Emma asked, and Peggy made a face, twisting so the beads on her dress didn’t dig into Killian’s side. 

“The mind melding thing. Toph said you were doing it before.” “When did you see your brother? And where’s your other one?” “Probably teaching Noah how to score fifty goals a season.” “You think Matt's going to score fifty goals this season?” Killian cut in, interest and something that felt like pride almost too obvious. Emma bit her lip so she didn’t look like a complete idiot when she smiled. 

She wasn’t sure that worked either. 

She was really starting to believe her suspicions were right. 

“Please,” Peggy huffed. “He’s on some other level right now. He’s being an idiot and,” she paused, using Killian’s shoulder as leverage and Emma followed her gaze across the loft. “Look.” 

Emma’s breath caught. 

Loudly. 

Matt and Roland were crouched in the corner of the room, a tiny stick clutched in Noah’s hands and a makeshift goal that may have been Henry’s phone and Leo’s keys, both of them mumbling instructions under their breath while Elsa and Mary Margaret recorded the whole goddamn thing. 

“Oh,” Emma breathed, a rush of memories and feelings she wasn’t entirely expecting. 

“The more things change, huh?” Killian muttered. It took some finangling to get a step closer to her, having to shift Peggy slightly and drawing a not-so-quiet grumble out of her. “What do you know, little love?” “Nothing!” “I genuinely do not know who is worse at lying you or your brother.” “Which one?” “Take your pick at this point,” Emma laughed. “How long have they been over there? And seriously what do you know, babe?” “Like, at least twenty minutes. MD got here before I did though, which was super weird to begin with, but who knows? Maybe Claire’s a good influence.” “You didn’t answer that last part.” “I genuinely have no idea. Honestly. I’ve barely talked to MD. He’s been busy being cute and breaking all of Aunt Gina’s rules, but again, it’s super cute and Aunt Gina doesn’t care at all.” “Where is Gina?” Killian asked, glancing around like she was going to appear out of nowhere and chastise all of them for daring to question any of her actions. 

Peggy opened her mouth to answer, but there were more footsteps and more hands clapping on shoulders and really none of them had evolved as people at all in the last thirty years. Will grinned when Killian groaned, slinging an arm around Peggy’s shoulders to rest his chin on the top of her hair. 

He wasn’t wearing tails – although the pattern on his jacket probably would have done damage to Emma’s eyes if she stared at it for too long. There were far too many colors. And his tie clip appeared to be masquerading as a small disco ball. 

“You better hope Gina doesn’t find you, Cap,” Will said. “How is it that you get away with no tie every year?”

“I guess that means Gina likes me more than you. Did you bring something to drink? Can I get something to drink?” “Cap did you not bring anything to drink again?” Robin called from the other side of the room, moving towards them with a waiter half a step behind. Killian rolled his eyes. 

“You getting that guy to follow you around?” “You want to drink or you want to make fun?”

“I think that’s suggesting we can’t do both perfectly well,” Emma said, leaning around Killian to grab two glasses. And if nothing really ever changed at that party or in that loft, then she was exceptionally glad that the quality of the champagne fell underneath that umbrella. “You yell at Liam about being the better grandfather yet?” Robin didn’t quite flush, but he definitely pressed his lips together and Will’s laugh echoed in the minimal about of space around them. It only served to push his chin further into Peggy’s hair.

“I am not a kid, Uncle Will,” she grumbled, doing her best to pull away from him and it absolutely did not work. It never really did. “You don’t get to do that anymore.” Will hummed. And didn’t move his arm. “Yeah, yeah, where’s the boyfriend?” “Talking to Henry.” “Your dad challenge him to a shootout yet? Dr. J’s way too busy doing whatever he’s doing and Chris got roped into meeting Leo’s—what’s her name?” “Oh my God.”

“Not an answer.” “And we just got here, Scarlet,” Killian said, but the distinct lack of contradiction appeared with neon lights and sound effects. “So, you know...we haven’t had time. You talk to Matt?” Will tilted his head, brows pulled low because it was, admittedly, kind of a weird question and they hadn’t even taken their jackets off yet. “Should I have?” “Nah.” “Wow, no wonder Pegs sucks so much at lying, she definitely got that from you and Em.” “Ok, that is not a compliment at all,” Emma sighed, another round of footsteps and Phillip’s tie was metallic. Ruby weaved her way through the crowd, a bright red jacket covered in sparkles and maybe they should have made another rule about how both she and Scarlet made the whole thing incredibly weird and far too competitive every year. 

“Emma’s the worst liar in the world,” Ruby announced, tugging the half-finished champagne out of Emma’s hand and ignoring her cries of protest completely. “C’mon, gimme this. My jacket keeps scratching my skin.” “And whose fault is that?” Will asked archly. He waved his hand towards a different waiter, flashing a smile when Ruby did her best to hip check him into the nearest wall. “Nuh uh, not going to work Lucas. My balance is unparalleled.” “Modest too,” Phillip added. “I have a question.” “It makes me nervous that you felt you had to announce it,” Emma said slowly. She wasn’t entirely surprised that they’d drawn the crowd – more ridiculous outfits and Regina flanked by both of Henry’s daughters, and Mary Margaret’s smile appeared to be permanently etched on her face. And Harper whatever her last name might have been only looked vaguely overwhelmed. 

That was definitely a step in the right direction. 

Elsa flicked her fingers against Killian’s shoulders when she moved towards them, Liam next to her and Anna’s hair twisted into elaborate braids, more than a few streaks of silver there as well. 

Maybe things had kind of changed. 

Emma hadn’t realized she was leaning against Killian’s side until he kissed her hair again. 

“Got the drinks before you even took your jackets off, huh?” Elsa asked, arching an eyebrow and they should have patented that move years ago. They’d have made a fortune. 

Killian’s lips quirked. “You cry about your grandkid?” “Nah, that’s Liam’s game.” “Aw, c’mon,” Liam groaned, both Robin and Will drifting dangerously close to cackling. Regina made some kind of noise that might have been an agreement. 

“I think that means your old, leader,” Will said, laughter clinging to his voice. “Not you though, El. Just Liam.” “Yeah, good save, Scarlet,” Elsa murmured. 

“Something about top-tier defenseman,” Anna added. Her dress was green, more sparkles along the edges and none of them were very creative. They were all covered in sparkles and there was probably a joke about looking like ice to be made. 

Or there would have been if Phillip didn’t cough pointedly, staring at the lot of them with a hint of frustration and dash of amusement and Aurora was showing off photos on her phone. 

“Did we interrupt you, Rook?” Robin asked, chuckling when Phillip flipped him off. “There are kids here!” “His grandkid is here,” Killian muttered. He hissed when several fingers flicked at his jacket again, not able to swat them away with one arm around Emma and the other still awkwardly twisted between Will and Peggy. “He’s got a grandkid because he’s old, you see.” “Yeah, yeah, you’re hysterical, Cap. Looking a little greyer up there than usual, aren’t we?” “Was that supposed to be in the collective?” “Shut up.” “It’s nice to see that the maturity level of this team hasn’t changed with its hair color,” Ruby said, nudging Emma in the side when Mary Margaret started to play the video of Noah. And, really, she refused to be held accountable for whatever noise she made. 

Because she’d already had quite a bit of champagne in quite a short amount of time and it was definitely warm in that loft and there was too much smiling and too much laughing and the video was so goddamn cute it probably should have been illegal. 

“Nailed it,” Ruby mumbled to Mary Margaret, a hum of agreement and quick swipe of knuckles under eyes. “And,” she added, making sure her voice dropped to something almost resembling a whisper, “you got to get here on time, Em. M’s went full-on sugary sweet mom with Leo’s girlfriend.” Emma’s eyes moved, a little begrudgingly, away from the screen and those assumptions may have been guarantees now or whatever and—”Do we like her?” Mary Margaret shrugged. “Leo hasn’t stopped laughing all night.” “Seems like a sign.” “Of you guys ignoring me,” Phillip interrupted sharply. Emma widened her eyes, expression only a hint less mocking than the general ooh that moved across the entire group. 

“Known goon, Phillip—” Will started, but there was more glaring and more laughing and Regina was handing out more glasses of champagne. 

“What’s your question, Rook?” Ruby asked. “Or comment or concern or whatever.” Phillip clicked his tongue, but Ruby had never been intimidated by any of them and the likelihood of that changing was slim to none. She drank the rest of her champagne in three, quick gulps. “What’s going on with Matt?” The oxygen flew out of the room. Or got whistled two minutes for roughing. And ruining the conversation. 

Phillip grimaced, eyes darting around like he was waiting for someone to say something or agree with him and no one made a single noise. Killian’s hand tightened around Emma’s shoulder. 

“Do we think something’s wrong with Matt?” Anna whispered. She absolutely did not whisper. They were all absolutely terrible at holding their alcohol. 

“No,” Emma and Killian said quickly, but they were also pretty God awful at lying and she was totally going to blame the alcohol. And that video. Mary Margaret should not be allowed to have a phone anymore. 

“No?” Elsa asked. 

“No,” Killian repeated. There were more footsteps. Because they were all absolutely terrible at lying and keeping secrets and whispering. Especially the whispering. 

“Wait, which one is Matt?” another voice asked, quiet and a little cautious and that must have been Harper. They probably should have introduced themselves to Harper. 

Leo shifted on his feet, nodding in the direction of the approaching footsteps. “The one who looks like he’s about to drop gloves with all of us at once.” “I don’t entirely understand that joke.” “And it might not have been a joke,” Peggy mumbled, holding up both hands when Matt glared at her. 

Harper looked stunned. 

“We’ll get you all caught up to speed,” Ruby promised. “If M’s can figure out what icing is in less than one season, you’ll be totally fine.” She ignored Mary Margaret’s scoff, turning towards Matt and the stick held lightly in his hand. “Hey mini-Jones. You going to bite off any reporter’s heads in the next few days?” Matt froze, crossing his arms awkwardly and the tie around his neck was far looser than it should have been. “No one bit anything in post.” “Did I say that?” “Certainly sounded like it.” Ruby hummed, eyes far too bright to be anything except concerning. “What do you think you know, Ru?” She shrugged, but the smile was full blown now and Harper was still muttering questions under her breath. “I know nothing until you confirm it, mini-Jones. Weird how it always seems to happen that way.” And Emma needed to stop, simply, reacting – sounds falling out of her without her explicit permission, but she couldn’t do much about it and something snapped into place and Killian might have been laughing. It felt like it at least, body shaking against hers and fingers moving towards her neck because they still hadn’t taken their goddamn coats off. 

“Is someone going to explain what is going on?” David asked, a few more sounds of agreement. 

“Oh my God,” Peggy yelled. Her hands flew to her mouth, eyes wide as she bobbed on the balls of her feet. Matt glared at her. “I know what it is. Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God! MD!” “Shut up, Mar.” “I didn’t say anything! Oh my God. Am I right though?” “I thought you didn’t say anything,” Leo muttered knowingly, and Matt’s glare wasn’t quite as sharp when he turned that direction. 

“Whatever, Nolan,” Peggy hissed. “MD. Is that—oh my God, did you tell Toph?” “Mar—” “—No, no, did you tell Toph and not me? Are you kidding me?” “I genuinely have no idea what is going on,” David admitted. No one acknowledge him. Probably because Peggy was trying to beat up her older brother, barely restrained by Will and a recently-returned to the conversation Jeremy Humbert who was also trying to say hello to Emma and Killian at the same time. 

It would be a miracle if they didn’t scar Harper for life. 

“MD,” Peggy pressed, lunging forward and barely making contact with the front of his shirt. “Are you sure?”

His eyes narrowed, a particular type of glare Emma wasn’t sure she’d ever seen one of her kids use on one of her other kids. And she was half a second away from reprimanding two grown adults who were both wearing absolutely absurd outfits, heard Killian’s quiet hey now that had always worked, every single time, but Matt groaned louder than either one of them combined. He leaned forward, pulling Peggy towards him – a cry of rather loud indignation from her, that only made Chris laugh from the other side of the room. 

“C’mere,” Matt growled, wrapping his arm all the way around Peggy’s waist. She put up a fight, kicking and punching his arm, but he was honestly having some kind of season and Emma’s gaze moved towards Killian like there were magnets involved. 

He smirked at her. 

“Oh my God, caveman,” Peggy snapped. “Where’s your wife? Does she know you’re an absolutely insane person?” “Mar, I swear, if you do not stop talking right now, I will—" “—What? What, MD? Please go into exact detail of what you’re going to do.” He made another noise – ridiculously familiar and Elsa had to tuck her head into Liam’s shoulder to stop her laugh from bordering on offensive. Anna didn’t even try. And it only took another moment for reinforcements to arrive, Chris jogging across the room to help move Peggy. Harper was never going to come back. 

They’d have to apologize to Leo. 

“God, P, stop playing rag doll and just move,” Chris sighed. She dug her heels further into the ground. 

“Are you not going to help with this?” Roland asked, walking back into the room with a kid hanging off his back and Lizzie smiling next to him. 

Emma shook her head. “What could I possibly do?” “Ah, yeah, fair enough.” “Smart kid.” “Less fair.” “Mar, I am serious,” Matt continued, doing his best to drag her into the nearest corner and there wasn’t much of a point anymore because they all spent far too much time together and helped raise each other or something equally absurd and Killian’s fingers were warm when they twisted around Emma’s. 

Peggy stuck her tongue out. “Fine, fine, fine, but the next time—you know what, I don’t care. Fine. Let’s go.” It only took a moment. 

Emma was, honestly, surprised – was certain Peggy would demand answers before they found the corner or simply check both Matt and Chris until she was in charge of the situation, but it was also kind of nice, that hint of anticipation and waiting and—

“I knew he’d want to tell them first,” Claire said. Emma jerked her head around at the addition to the group, the whole lot of them standing in the middle of the goddamn loft with a slightly cautious looking waitstaff lingering against the walls. 

She was dressed up as well, hair twisted at the nape of her neck and more sparkles, but the outfit had nothing on the look on her face – something about glowing and the next line shift and absolutely wonderful and complete and utter change. 

Killian kissed Emma’s cheek. 

And Claire flushed slightly, arms wrapped around her middle when her teeth found her lower lip. 

“I didn’t actually tell you,” she said. “So I didn’t ruin the surprise or anything.” “Is it a surprise?” Emma asked, only a little disappointed her voice shook. She might have been crying. She was absolutely crying. 

“Ah, I don’t know about that. It was almost responsible.” “Oh. Yeah?” The question was ridiculous, another string of inexplicable and unplanned emotion, but Emma could barely see through the tears in her eyes and Ruby’s sniffle sounded far too loud. Although, not quite as loud as the shriek that came from the far corner, both Chris and Matt doing their best to quiet Peggy. 

They failed. Miserably. Or, well, as miserably as it was possible to be when everything seemed to be glowing and new and filled with very expensive champagne. 

“Look who’s old now, Jones,” Regina muttered, tugging lightly on the back of Noah’s shirt. Elsa snickered, Anna wiping away her own tears and Roland grinned as widely as anyone else in the room. 

Peggy was still screaming. 

“Are you kidding me, MD?” She was jumping, arms flailing and hair falling out of its updo and Chris had shifted behind her, trying to control either one of those things, but that was a pipe dream and Peggy was absolutely crying too. 

Matt smiled. And shook his head. “No joke, Mar,” he said, soft and honest and Emma’s heart felt like it grew forty-seven sizes. She leaned back against Killian’s chest. 

Peggy’s hand flew back to her mouth, finally staying on the ground for more than a few seconds. Her shoulders shook slightly, though, and then it was a whirlwind of sounds – exhales and sighs and you’re going to be so good and there was far too much crying, but Peggy jumped at Matt and he caught her with the kind of athletic dexterity that was absolutely, positively genetic. 

That boded well for the future. 

Emma didn’t count how long they stayed in that corner – a moment and thing and three kids who loved each other more than just about anything else in the world and believed in each other more than anything else in the world – but Matt pressed his cheek against Peggy’s hair, eyes lifting with the hint of a smile tugging at his mouth. 

“So, uh, we’ve got some news.” “Good news,” Claire added, her own expression drifting closer to joy than anything else. “Like, you know. Good news.” “The best news,” Roland amended. “Although I’m totally ready to battle Matt to the death for, like, dad of the year award or something.” Matt groaned, but any hint of frustration was gone, replaced only with announcements and new and he moved towards Emma and Killian slowly – as if he were worried about spooking them or their recently acquired status and— “I’ll win every time if I’m half as good as you guys,” he said. 

Emma had no idea what sound she made. Killian’s knees buckled slightly. And Matt practically beamed, hugging both of them at the same time. 

Mary Margaret took video. 

Maybe she could keep her phone. 

“So, uh…” David started. “Just to be certain here, complete sentences and official statements—” “—That was good,” Ruby said. “C’mon, mini-Jones. Let’s get official so David can toast and we can promise Harper we’re not all usually this weird.” Lizzie shook her head. “We’re always this weird.” Matt laughed softly, moving back to Claire’s side and Emma’s record wasn’t going to be for eye rolls. It was totally going to be for crying. “We’re, uh…” Matt said, pausing to take a deep breath and his gaze didn’t move away from them when he spoke again. “We’re going to have a baby.” “Yeah, I think we picked up on that kid,” Killian said, voice gruff. “Why the face during post, then?” “I wasn’t really doing anything during post.” “God, it’s like all three of you are trying to do the worst job of lying to us. Didn’t we age out of this already?”

“We went to the doctor yesterday,” Claire explained when Matt didn’t immediately answer, far too busy rolling his eyes and trying to contain his sister’s limbs. “They didn’t want to let him off of our morning skate, but then he scored, so…” “Oh,” Killian said. “Right. Right. That’s—” “We’ve totally got pictures.”

He took a deep breath, ignoring the small army of cameras pointed towards him because they were the most absurd family in the history of the entire NHL and several different universes. 

Liam threw his whole head back when he laughed, his own tears obvious and maybe they weren’t just absurd, they were a bunch of giant saps. “We toast? Gina got that crazy expensive champagne, right?” “It pains me that you think I wouldn't get the very expensive champagne,” Regina said. 

“Of course, Your Highness, of course. No more cracks about getting older, right?” “I make absolutely no promises,” Emma grinned, doing it entirely for the reaction. Liam cursed in Norwegian. 

And there was, in fact, a copious amount of champagne and discussion of that one goal the night before reenacted several times by several different grandchildren with a variety of cameras pointed their direction. And there was dancing and food and a countdown that felt more important than it ever had, a shift and a change and everything all at once. 

And Emma expected the kiss, something about tradition and rules, but she was a little stunned by the everything of that too – Killian’s thumb tucked under her chin and a look she couldn’t quite ever name, but had come to absolutely covet and she smiled before his lips landed on hers, soft and insistent and—

“I love you,” he whispered. She kissed him again. 

“More than anything. Even if you’re kind of ancient now.” Killian laughed, breath warm against Emma’s cheek. “Yeah, as long as we get to do that together, I’m good.” “What a line. You look up kid-sized jerseys on your phone yet?” “No, did you?” Emma shrugged. “Maybe.” “Maybe meaning definitely?” “You really didn’t look yet?” “Nah,” Killian said, fingers doing something entirely unfair against her side. “I asked Liam and Locksley where they got theirs.” “Cheater.” “Efficient.” “Yeah, yeah, whatever you have to tell yourself, grandpa.” “I like that sound of that, actually.” “Good because that’s what we’re going with,” Matt yelled, twisted around Claire and he hadn’t moved more than a few inches away from her for most of the night. 

Killian nodded, tugging his phone out of his pocket and Emma didn’t have to look to know that there was already an order receipt in his email. “You good with that, Swan?” “Better,” she promised. 

The packages came two days later – plural, with more baby-sized merch than they’d bought for any of their own kids, a fact all three kids were quick to point out before Emma quirked an eyebrow and tilted her head and Peggy and Chris had to admit that they’d ordered their own merch too. 

[crescentxhope]

HAYLEY MARSHALL

 Muse’s Aesthetics  !!

                          BOLD any which apply to your muse!                         Remember to REPOST! Feel free to add to the list!

[ COLORS ] red. brown. orange. yellow. green. blue. purple. pink. black. white. teal. silver. gold. grey. lilac. metallic. matte. royal blue. strawberry red. charcoal grey. forest green. apple red. navy blue. crimson. cream. mint green. lavender. copper. turquoise. amber. magenta. midnight. jade green. neon yellow. neon green. tan.

[ ELEMENTS ] fire. ice. water. air. earth. metal. spirit. rain. snow. wind. moon. stars. sun. heat. cold. steam. frost. lightning. sunlight. moonlight. dawn. dusk. twilight. midnight. sunrise. sunset. dewdrops. [ BODY ] claws. long fingers. fangs. teeth. wings. tails. lips. bare feet. freckles. bruises. canine. acne. scars. scratches. wounds. burns. spikes. fur. feathers. scales. webs. eyes. hands. tongue. sweat. tears. feline. chubby-faced. curvy. short. tall. busty. normal height. muscular. makeup. piercing. tattoos. dimples. plastic surgery. dyed hair. painted nails. amputation. [ WEAPONS ] fists. brass knuckles. sword. dagger. spear. arrow. hammer. shield. poison. guns. axes. throwing axes. whips. knives. throwing knifes. pepper sprays. tasers. machine guns. slingshots. katanas. maces. staffs. wands. powers. magical items. magic. rocks. mud balls. claws. razors. fighting fans. [ MATERIALS ] gold. silver. platinum. titanium. diamonds. pearls. rubies. sapphires. emeralds. amethyst. opal. topaz. jade. agate. bismuth. geodes. metal. iron. rust. steel. glass. wood. porcelain. paper. wool. fur. faux fur. lace. leather. silk. satin. velvet. denim. linen. cotton. charcoal. clay. stone. asphalt. brick. marble. granite. dust. glitter. blood. dirt. mud. smoke. ash. shadow. carbonate. rubber. synthetics. fool’s gold. fossils. sea glass. [ NATURE ] grass. leaves. pine trees. maple trees. palm trees. bark. roses. daisies. tulips. lavender. lilies. hibiscus. petals. thorns. seeds. vines. roots. hay. sand. rocks. flowers. ocean. river. meadow. forest. desert. tundra. savanna. swamps. rainforest. petrichor. caves. underwater. coral reef. beach. waves. space. clouds. mountains. shooting stars. rainbows. auroras. fjords. canyons. floods. droughts. thunderstorms. tornadoes. hurricanes. tsunamis. volcanoes. earthquakes. blizzards. meteors. constellations. comets. planets. seashells. driftwood. [ ANIMALS ] lions. tigers. bears. wolves. eagles. owls. falcons. hawks. swans. snakes. turtles. ducks. bugs. spiders. birds. whales. dolphins. fish. sharks. horses. zebras. giraffes. cats. dogs. bunnies. cows. sheep. pigs. goats. frogs. snails. praying mantises. butterflies. bees. wasps. crows. ravens. parrots. peacocks. mice. rats. hamsters. lizards. werewolves. unicorns. pegasus. phoenix. dragons. foxes. llamas. camels. [FOODS/DRINKS ] sugar. salt. candy. bubblegum. wine. champagne. hard liquor. beer. coffee. tea. kombucha. spices. herbs. apple. orange. lemon. lime. cherry. pineapple. strawberry. watermelon. cranberry. bananas. mango. coconut. pomegranate. vegetables. fruits. meat. fish. pies. cakes. desserts. chocolate. vanilla. hazelnut. peppermint. cream. caramel. berries. nuts. cinnamon. popcorn. pretzels. soda. burgers. burritos. pizza. pasta. ambrosia. lasagna. peanut butter. curry. bacon. soup. cheese. avocado. [ HOBBIES ] music. art. watercolors. gardening. smithing. sculpting. painting. sketching. fighting. thievery. writing. composing. cooking. sewing. cosplay. training. dancing. acting. singing. martial arts. self-defense. electronics. technology. blogging. vlogging. cameras. video cameras. video games. computer. phone. movies. theatre. libraries. books. magazines. cds. records. vinyls. cassettes. piano. violin. guitar. electronic guitar. bass guitar. harmonica. harp. woodwinds. brass. bells. sitar. keyboard. drums. percussion. marching band. drama. playing cards. poker chips. chess. dice. motorcycle riding. eating. climbing. running. partying. [ STYLE ] lingerie. armor. cape. dress. tunic. vest. blazer. shirt. boots. sneakers. slip-ons. sandals. heels. leggings. trousers. jeans. shorts. skirt. jewelry. earrings. necklace. bracelet. ring. pendant. hat. crown. circlet. helmet. scarf. brocade. cloaks. corsets. doublet. chest plate. gorget. bracers. belt. sash. coat. jacket. hood. gloves. socks. masks. cowls. braces. tie. watches. glasses. sun glasses. visor. eye contacts. makeup. bowties. canes. bows. [ MUSIC ] rock. pop. jazz. rap. r&b. hip-hop. funk. alternative. classical. trance. dubstep. edm. ebm. hardstyle. blues. latin. k-pop. j-pop. ambient. new age. metal. world fusion. dancehall. reggae. soca. punk. ska. singer-songwriter. folk. country. bluegrass. swing. opera. show tunes. a capella. minimalist. avant-garde. new wave. disco. baroque. symphonic metal. soundtrack. vaporwave. glitch. house. chillout. psychedelic rock. post-rock. cabaret. trip-hop. easy listening. trap. nightcore. indie. grunge. contemporary. black metal. metalcore. emo. screamo. rockabilly. parody. industrial. electro pop. [ MISC ] balloons. bubbles. fireworks. reflections. cityscape. cathedral. mosque. light. dark. candles. war. peace. money. power. percussion. clocks. photos. mirrors. pets. diary. fairy lights. madness. sanity. sadness. happiness. optimism. pessimism. loneliness. family. friends. assistants. co-workers. partner. enemies. loyalty. smoking. drugs. kindness. love. hugs. kisses. lies. angels. demons. fairies. elves. gnomes. Tagged by: stolen from: @bubblegumxveil​ Tagging: & anyone!

[starrymused]

BOLD any which apply to your muse!

Remember to REPOST! Feel free to add to the list!

[ COLORS ] red. brown. orange. yellow. green. blue. purple. pink. black. white. teal. silver. gold. grey. lilac. metallic. matte. royal blue. strawberry red. charcoal grey. forest green. apple red. navy blue. crimson. cream. mint green. lavender. copper. turquoise. amber. magenta. midnight. jade green. neon yellow. neon green. tan.

[ ELEMENTS ] fire. ice. water. air. earth. metal. spirit. rain. snow. wind. moon. stars. sun. heat. cold. steam. frost. lightning. sunlight. moonlight. dawn. dusk. twilight. midnight. sunrise. sunset. dewdrops.

[ BODY ] claws. long fingers. fangs. teeth. wings. tails. lips. bare feet. freckles. bruises. canine. acne. scars. scratches. wounds. burns. spikes. fur. feathers. scales. webs. eyes. hands. tongue. sweat. tears. feline. chubby-faced. curvy. short. tall. busty. normal height. muscular. makeup. piercing. tattoos. dimples. plastic surgery. dyed hair. painted nails. amputation.

[ WEAPONS ] fists. brass knuckles. sword. dagger. spear. arrow. hammer. shield. poison. guns. axes. throwing axes. whips. knives. throwing knives. pepper sprays. tasers. machine guns. slingshots. katanas. maces. staffs. wands. powers. magical items. magic. rocks. mud balls. claws. razors. fighting fans.

[ MATERIALS ] gold. silver. platinum. titanium. diamonds. pearls. rubies. sapphires. emeralds. amethyst. opal. topaz. jade. agate. bismuth. geodes. metal. iron. rust. steel. glass. wood. porcelain. paper. wool. fur. faux fur. lace. leather. silk. satin. velvet. denim. linen. cotton. charcoal. clay. stone. asphalt. brick. marble. granite. dust. glitter. blood. dirt. mud. smoke. ash. shadow. carbonate. rubber. synthetics. fool’s gold. fossils. sea glass.

[ NATURE ] grass. leaves. pine trees. maple trees. palm trees. bark. roses. daisies. tulips. lavender. lilies. hibiscus. petals. thorns. seeds. vines. roots. hay. sand. rocks. roots. flowers. ocean. river. meadow. forest. desert. tundra. savanna. swamps. rainforest. petrichor. caves. underwater. coral reef. beach. waves. space. clouds. mountains. shooting stars. rainbows. auroras. fjords. canyons. floods. droughts. thunderstorms. tornadoes. hurricanes. tsunamis. volcanoes. earthquakes. blizzards. meteors. constellations. comets. planets. seashells. driftwood.

[FOODS/DRINKS ] sugar. salt. candy. bubblegum. wine. champagne. hard liquor. beer. coffee. tea. kombucha. spices. herbs. apple. orange. lemon. lime. cherry. pineapple. strawberry. watermelon. cranberry. bananas. mango. coconut. pomegranate. vegetables. fruits. meat. fish. pies. cakes. desserts. chocolate. vanilla. hazelnut. peppermint. cream. caramel. berries. nuts. cinnamon. popcorn. pretzels. soda. burgers. burritos. pizza. pasta. ambrosia. lasagna. peanut butter. curry. bacon. soup. cheese. avocado.

[ HOBBIES ] music. art. watercolors. gardening. smithing. sculpting. painting. sketching. fighting. thievery. writing. composing. cooking. sewing. cosplay. training. dancing. acting. singing. martial arts. self-defense. electronics. technology. blogging. vlogging. cameras. video cameras. video games. computer. phone. movies. theater. libraries. books. magazines. cds. records. vinyls. cassettes. piano. violin. guitar. electronic guitar. bass guitar. harmonica. harp. woodwinds. brass. bells. sitar. keyboard. drums. percussion. marching band. drama. playing cards. poker chips. chess. dice. motorcycle riding. eating. climbing. running. partying.

[ STYLE ] lingerie. armor. cape. dress. tunic. vest. blazer. shirt. boots. sneakers. slip-ons. sandals. heels. leggings. trousers. jeans. shorts. skirt. jewelry. earrings. necklace. bracelet. ring. pendant. hat. crown. circlet. helmet. scarf. brocade. cloaks. corsets. doublet. chest plate. gorget. bracers. belt. sash. coat. jacket. hood. gloves. socks. masks. cowls. braces. tie. watches. glasses. sun glasses. visor. eye contacts. makeup. bowties. canes. bows.

[ MUSIC ] rock. pop. jazz. rap. r&b. hip-hop. funk. alternative. classical. trance. dubstep. edm. ebm. hardstyle. blues. latin. k-pop. j-pop. ambient. new age. metal. world fusion. dancehall. reggae. soca. punk. ska. singer-songwriter. folk. country. bluegrass. swing. opera. show tunes. a capella. minimalist. avant-garde. new wave. disco. baroque. symphonic metal. soundtrack. vaporwave. glitch. house. chillout. psychedelic rock. post-rock. cabaret. trip-hop. easy listening. trap. nightcore. indie. grunge. contemporary. black metal. metalcore. emo. screamo. rockabilly. parody. industrial. electro pop

[ MISC ] balloons. bubbles. fireworks. reflections. cityscape. cathedral. mosque. light. dark. candles. war. peace. money. power. percussion. clocks. photos. mirrors. pets. diary. fairy lights. madness. sanity. sadness. happiness. optimism. pessimism. loneliness. family. friends. assistants. co-workers. partner. enemies. loyalty. smoking. drugs. kindness. love. hugs. kisses. lies. angels. demons. fairies. elves. gnomes.

[ahelpfulpeach]

I was gonna ask All for the numbers but that might be a bit Much I guess so how about odds!

Fuck it I have no self control, you get all of em

1. Sun lesbian or moon lesbian: 🌙 love me a night sky

2. Flannel lesbian or sweater lesbian: flannels! Though I enjoy sweaters as well, I just don't wear them as much cuz they're harder to take off and I overheat easily

3. Curly fry lesbian or waffle fry lesbian: CURLY FRIES

4. Thrift store lesbian or high brow lesbian: thrift store bro

5. 70’s disco lesbian or 90’s grunge lesbian: probably more grunge

6. Fat cat lesbian or hairless cat lesbian: all cats are lovely and deserve my undevided attention

7. Chinese takeout lesbian or pizza delivery lesbian: pizzzaaaaa

8. Big dog lesbian or tiny dog lesbian: all dogs also deserve my undevided attention, but I do have a preference for large dogs

9. MoMA lesbian or metropolitan lesbian: never been to either but I love museums and would enjoy both!!

10. Matte nail lesbian or glossy nail lesbian: glossy! Gimme that glittery nail polish that looks like a galaxy fuck yeah

11. Red lipstick lesbian or dusty rose lesbian: I don't wear lipstick soooo

12. Crop top lesbian or maxi dress lesbian: don't usually wear femme stuff, or women's clothing in general, but I own one maxi dress and it is so soft and a lovely like lakeside scenery

13. Neck kisses lesbian or forehead kisses lesbian: I mean. Both? Both is good. But also neck kisses fuck me up good

14. Fluffy fat cat lesbian or tiny hairless cat lesbian: boooooth. But I do own a big ol fluffy boy who I am trying to keep from getting to fat for his own good

15. Leather jacket lesbian or letterman jacket lesbian: looking to find a good leather jacket

16. Puts too much salt on food lesbian or too much pepper: usually I underseason cuz I worry about over seasoning and then put too little

17. Glitter eyeshadow lesbian or matte eyeshadow lesbian: I do not makeup

18. Flower lesbian or succulent lesbian: both! But I do love me a cute lil succulent

19. Ugly cat print sweater lesbian or jean jacket that looks like it’s been through a war lesbian: also looking for a good jean jacket, wanna get one from a thrift store so it's already broken in a bit

20. Spaghettios lesbian or Kraft dinner lesbian: Mac and cheeeeeese

21. Hot chocolate lesbian or lemonade lesbian: God I love both but I think lemonade edges out hot chocolate by a little bit

22. Champagne lesbian or whiskey lesbian: neither. I will drink a sweet wine though

23. Dark aesthetic lesbian or pastel aesthetic lesbian: I guess closer to pastel cuz I like colors

24. Silk velvet lesbian or crushed velvet lesbian: silk velvet! Crushed velvet is... Unpleasant

25. Ball gown lesbian or tuxedo lesbian: tuxedo

26. Forest lesbian or space lesbian: again, I like both, but probably forest

27. Lennon glasses lesbian or aviators lesbian: I do not own sunglasses, but we'll go with aviators

28. Hestia lesbian or Artemis Lesbian: Artemis!!!

29. Nose piercing lesbian or belly button piercing lesbian: I am a wimp and have no piercings and do not have any real desire to obtain any

30. Electric guitar lesbian or ukulele lesbian: I cannot play either, but both seem like they'd be cool to learn

31. Converse lesbian or doc martens lesbian: I wear more boots but of these two I've only ever owned converse

32. Hayley Kiyoko lesbian or Mary Lambert lesbian: I like a few of both of their songs, but I'll go with Mary

33. Olive Garden lesbian or Chiles lesbian: I think I am contractually obligated to say Olive garden cuz one of my roommates works there.

34. Tarot card lesbian or astrology lesbian: tarot cards are pretty cool

35. Peppermint lesbian or cinnamon lesbian: that depends. For candy and toothpaste and whatnot, peppermint. For baked goods, cinnamon

36. Playing-with-her-hair lesbian or getting-hair-played-with lesbian: I am usually a playing-with-her-hair one but I would love for someone to play with mine

37. Victim of tickle attacks lesbian or tickle attacker lesbian: probably more often the victim but I am both

38. Tiny tattoo lesbian or whole sleeve of tattoos lesbian: I'd love to get a big sleeve but I am, as mentioned before, a wimp

39. Lady and the tramp lesbian or aristocats lesbian: aristocats! It has more fun music

40. Cool Rock collection lesbian or cool leaf collection lesbian: I have a pretty nice little rock collection

41. Art hoe lesbian or music hoe lesbian: neither I think

42. 80’s windbreaker lesbian or 80’s blazer lesbian: I don't think I own either

43. Mom jeans lesbian or skinny jeans lesbian: third category- men's jeans

44. Silver lesbian or gold lesbian: silver

45. Flower crown lesbian or snap back lesbian: I kinda want a snap back but I have not found one I like

46. Annie on my mind lesbian or rubyfruit jungle lesbian: haven't read Annie on my mind, rubyfruit jungle by default!

47. Breakfast club lesbian or princess bride lesbian: haven't seen breakfast club but even if I had princess bride all the way

48. “Wanna cuddle?” Lesbian or surprise hug attack lesbian: depends on who I am with but generally "wanna cuddle?"

49. Jupiter lesbian or Pluto lesbian: PLUTO

50. Make her mixtapes lesbian or sketchbook filled with drawings of her lesbian: mixtapes fuck yeah