#These are all very corny and one of them is song title but they were all I could come up with haha

[daisynik7]

Primetime

Part 3 of Dirty Thirty

🎶 Baby it's a prime time for our love, ain't nobody peekin' but the stars above. It's a prime time for our love, and heaven is betting on us. 🎶

Pairing: Kishibe x f!reader

Rating: Explicit

cw: Switching POVs (Kishibe third-person, reader second-person), vaginal sex (cowgirl, doggy, missionary), nipple play, spit play, cunnilingus, spanking, breeding kink, daddy kink, lots of fluff, pet names (princess, baby)

Word Count: ~6.5k

Summary: You and Kishibe are officially a couple. These are the little moments that all lead up to the big one.    

Notes: I did it. I wrote a Part 3; I hope you all like it! Title inspired by the song “Primetime” by Janelle Monae ft. Miguel, definitely recommend listening to this to set the mood right! Please read the first two parts, linked below! Likes, reblogs, and comments are all super appreciated, would love to hear what you all think!

Part 1 - Dirty Thirty | Part 2 - After Last Night | ao3

Kishibe doesn’t know how to be a good boyfriend. 

It’s been almost a month since he and his girlfriend started dating. This morning, he displays a photo booth picture at his cubicle. She convinced him to do it while they were at the beach boardwalk this past weekend, and of course, he couldn’t refuse her. He never can, despite being opposed to corny shit like that. But even he can admit that the photos turned out decent. 

Nobody is at their desk unless they’re filling out paperwork, so he doesn’t think anyone will notice. However Himeno, one of his current protégés, is keen, observant, and a goddamn nosey pest. 

“Master, is this your girlfriend?” She points at the photo strip, a hint of excitement bubbling behind her typically calm demeanor.

Not wanting this to be a bigger deal than it needs to be, he casually answers, “Yes.”

“I see.” There’s a clever smirk on her face, as if she’s plotting something cheeky to say. He’s surprised when instead, she comments, “That is a very nice picture.”

He grumbles in response, not used to small talk involving his personal life. 

“How long have you been dating?”

“Almost a month.” He pretends to be preoccupied with organizing all his forms, avoiding eye contact, wishing for this conversation to end. 

“What are you doing for your anniversary?”

This gets his attention. “Huh?”

“Your one-month anniversary. What are your plans to celebrate?”

Finally, he meets her gaze, setting aside his stack of papers. “People celebrate that?”

“Well, couples do, yes.”

He stares at her, unsure how to react. It’s been decades since his last relationship, probably during grade school if he’s remembering correctly. Obviously, the standards have changed since then, but to celebrate a month of dating? It seems trivial to him. Then again, he hasn’t had a serious girlfriend as an adult. It’s going extremely well between them, and he doesn’t want to mess this up, especially only after a few weeks into it. 

Too proud to ask his junior for advice, he takes his lunch break to eat a bowl of ramen while scrolling through his phone, searching every article he can find on how to celebrate anniversaries. He finds a few ideas that he can get on board with, and some he completely tosses out the window because of how fucking ridiculous they are. 

By Friday night, the actual day of their anniversary, he has a plan. A little before 6:00 PM, he buzzes her in and waits for the familiar knock on the door. When he opens it, she greets him with a warm smile. “Kishibe.”

She wears a modest dress, having just come from the office. Overnight bag in hand, ready to spend another weekend here at his apartment. Once inside, she drops her belongings and wraps her arms around him. “Hi.”

He returns her embrace, inhaling the pleasant scent he yearns for on the days they’re not together. “How are you?”

“Tired. I’m ready for a nice, relaxing weekend with my boyfriend.” Every time she calls him that, his chest swells with an odd sensation. He hasn’t gotten used to it yet, but it’s not unwanted. In fact, he quite likes it.

As she removes her shoes by the door, he sneaks into the kitchen to retrieve the bouquet he purchased earlier from a local florist. Thirty red roses, one for each day they’ve been a couple. He read online that this is considered romantic. 

He walks towards her with the bouquet in his grasp, her eyes and smile widening at the scene before her. “What’s this?”

“Happy one-month anniversary.” He thrusts the roses forward, hoping she takes it. She continues to stare at him with a big grin on her face.

“What?” He’s blushing now, nervous that this is all wrong. “Say something.”

She grabs the flowers, lifting them towards her nose to sniff. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

He clears his throat. “We also have reservations at your favorite restaurant in an hour.” 

At this, she lets out a small squeal. “Really? You didn’t have to do any of this,” she says, face still buried in the flowers, clearly enjoying this.

“I wanted to.” 

She sets the roses down on the counter, stepping towards him to tug playfully on his tie. “You really are the sweetest. I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything. I’m such a terrible girlfriend.” 

“The worst,” he smirks, sliding his hands around her waist. 

“Can I make it up to you?” She kisses him, slow and passionate, using his tie to pull him deeper. “Show you how sorry I am?”

He plays along, knowing exactly where this is leading. “You better be sorry. I’m pretty upset.”

“I hope you’ll find it in your heart to forgive me, then.” 

“We’ll see.” They walk to the couch in tandem, gazing into each other’s lust filled eyes.

When he’s sat, she straddles him. “Do you remember the night we first met? We were right here on this couch.”

“How can I forget?” He roams up and down her back, the fabric of her dress silky on his calloused fingers.

“Well, my memory is a little hazy. Remind me.” She guides his hands to her chest, kneading her breasts.

“You’re being very naughty right now,” he mutters in his low voice. “First, no gift. Now this. Seems like you want to be punished.”

“Yeah, I do. I need to be punished. I’m a very bad girlfriend.” She peers at him with a desperate expression, eyes gleaming with desire. He can’t help but falter under her gaze.

“Fuck, you’re asking for it.” He lifts the hem of her dress over her ass, feeling for her panties. Sliding his fingers beneath the lace, bunching it in his fist it to bury between her ass cheeks, exposing her beautiful bottom. Perfectly bare for a good spanking. She sucks in a breath, anticipating it, aching for it. He presses a gentle kiss to her ear before delivering a loud smack, focused on the jiggle of her supple flesh upon contact. 

“Fuck, baby. Do it again,” she demands, grinding on his lap.

He repeats, this time on the opposite side, massaging the tender skin after. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

She presses her forehead to his. “You never do. Don’t worry.”

They kiss as they strip their remaining clothes. Soon, they’re completely naked on the couch, her on his lap, kissing along his neck. He reaches his fingers towards her pussy, caressing his thumb on her clit. 

“Baby,” she whines. “I want you inside me. I want to ride this cock until we both come.”

“Then do it, sweetie. I’m all yours.” 

It’s reminiscent of their first time. They were hasty that night, desperate for a quick fuck with a total stranger. Indulging in wicked fantasies they both needed satiated. This time, it’s more intimate. He pays attention to the sound of her heartbeat, the warmth in her cheeks, goosebumps forming on the most sensitive spots of her skin, the angelic sounds coming from her lips. Memorizing it all until it’s ingrained in his mind.

His cock is sprung against his abdomen, already leaking precum at the tip. He grabs hold of his erection, rubbing the head onto her puffy clit, tapping it loudly. Wet slaps spurring her to rut into his lap faster. Her hands are clasped around her tits, fingers pinching at her hardening nipples, erotic as ever in front of him. It’s a captivating sight he’s seen before, but always marvels, still in disbelief at his luck one month ago when he first laid eyes on her.

He strokes himself, spreading precum along the shaft, though it’s not enough. “Spit on it, princess. Get it wet for me.”

She nods, bowing her head to dribble a warm stream of saliva down onto his cock, coating his dick. Slick enough, she lifts up to position him at her entrance, sinking down gradually until she’s sat on his lap again, wiggling her ass to get herself comfortable. 

He hums, relishing the sensation of being nestled inside her precious cunt, holding her in a snug embrace. They stay like this for a moment, him sliding one hand around her breast, kissing her nipple. 

“Kishibe,” she breathes out, eager for more. 

He sucks it plump against his lips, flicking his tongue on it, listening for her pleasured moans with each lick. His cock twitches inside her, still hard, surrounded by her wet heat. The temptation to fuck her is almost irresistible; however, seeing her in this blissful state is too marvelous to rush. 

“Baby, fuck,” she whines, as he works on her other tit, pulling it taut with his mouth. It’s his favorite, witnessing her unravel on top of him. And tonight is a celebration. It makes it all the more special.

Releasing her, he leans back, holding her sides once more, watching her slowly rock back and forth on his thighs. “Go ahead. Ride me. Fuck me till we both come. You can do it.” 

Using her knees for leverage, she rises slightly, keeping just his tip inside, them sinks back down, repeating so that she’s bouncing on his cock steadily. 

“There you go. Use that cock, baby. Just like that,” he whispers, staring at his dick disappearing into her pussy. He stays still, letting her do all the work, resisting the urge to slam his hips into her. He wants to savor this, indulge in it as long as he possibly can. 

Cupping her face, he teases her lips with his thumb, slipping it inside her mouth for her to suck on. She holds his wrist, sticking it further down her tongue, spreading her saliva around him. He pulls it out, a string of shiny spit connected to her lips as he reaches down to touch her clit. 

“Ah, Kishibe. That feels so good,” she praises, riding him faster. 

“You’re getting close, I know it. Come for me, baby. Make us both come.” He holds her close, tongues slipping into each other’s mouths, messy and wet. His thumb toys with her swollen clit, her wanton moans vibrating against his lips. His abdomen is clenched tight, ready for release. He wants to spill inside her, give her his all, just as she does for him.

Unable to resist any longer, he grips her bottom, holding her in place. He starts thrusting up into her, feet planted firmly to the floor, couch squeaking with every plunge of his hips. She’s tight around him, slick already creamy on his shaft, her fingers rubbing fast on her bud to reach her climax faster. Her high-pitched whimpers and obscene squelches of arousal spur him on, driving him further and further off the edge. They come together, cum filling up her pussy until it’s leaking between them, the sticky aftermath evidence of their passionate love making. They catch their breaths, Kishibe relaxing on the couch as she slumps over him, face buried in his neck. Soon, she starts giggling. He can’t help but join. 

“You really are a terrible girlfriend, making me come right before dinner,” he teases her.

“I had to do my part after you planned such a lovely evening.” She sighs happily. “I’m so lucky to have a thoughtful boyfriend.” 

“It’s really nothing,” he waves off.

“It’s definitely something. I’m truly so lucky,” she reiterates, nuzzling comfortably against him. “So lucky.”

A while passes before he reluctantly suggests, “We should get ready soon.”

“Wait. Let’s just stay like this for another minute or two,” she murmurs, clinging to him tighter.

He chuckles, thankful she suggested it, because that’s exactly what he wants to do too. “Okay. Whatever you say.”

“Happy anniversary, Kishibe.”

“Happy anniversary, princess.”

~~~

The first time Kishibe tells you he loves you, he’s drunk.

He has an assignment outside of the city, food and lodging included, staying at a hotel with his protégé, Himeno, who you’ve met several times in the three months you’ve been dating. You’re well acquainted with her, so much so that you even have her number, in case of emergencies. However, she often texts you anyways just to chat, which you don’t mind at all. 

On the last day of his mission, he informs you that he’ll be out for drinks with his partner and a few other members of Public Safety. It must have been a successful job, considering there were no deaths, either civilians or devil hunters. It’s always a relief, knowing that Kishibe has survived another day.

You lie in bed, scrolling through the myriad of texts you’ve exchanged with him over the past week. Although he considers himself a man of few words, he never fails to send you a message whenever he can, whether it’s a good morning text, a quick check in, even a snapshot of what he’s eating that day. Tonight, he barely contacts you, busy celebrating with his comrades. You can’t blame him, but there’s no denying it; you miss him.

Being in your own bed on a Friday night, in the dinky apartment you share with your not-so-stellar roommate, is a feeling you’ve happily become unfamiliar with. You wish you were in Kishibe’s luxurious king-sized bed instead, snuggled in his strong arms, being kissed and licked all over. His gruff voice hot in your ear, whispering sweet nothings that make you melt. 

Without thinking, you send him a text, simply stating I miss you. You don’t wait for a reply, distracting yourself with a show, surrounded by blankets and pillows to fill the void left by his absence. When did you become so needy? 

On the verge of sleep, the vibration and ping of your phone stirs you awake. It’s almost 11 PM. Your heart flutters, hoping it’s your boyfriend. You’re surprised to see Himeno’s name on the notification. 

It’s a picture of Kishibe, slumped over at a table, clearly drunk. His other colleagues pose beside him, some waving peace signs, others sticking their tongues out, all of them holding beers. You chuckle at the image, happy to see all of them smiling and lively. Even if your boyfriend is intoxicated out of his wit’s end, at least you know he’s alive. Death is a new fear you’ve inherited since being seriously involved with a devil hunter. You spend every waking moment together, treating it like it’s your last, because you never know if it is. 

As you admire the photo, you suddenly get a call from the sender. “Hello?” you answer.

Himeno’s voice is soft through the speaker. “Hi there, friend. Did you like what I sent you?” You imagine her leaning on the wall outside the bar, preparing to smoke.

You laugh. “I do. Thank you for that. I hope he’s not giving you too much trouble.”

“On the contrary, he was our source of entertainment tonight.” On the other end of the line, you hear the drag of her cigarette.

“Really?”

She lets out a puff before answering, “Yes. He wouldn’t shut up about how amazing his girlfriend is.”

A rush of heat surrounds your cheeks, either from flattery or embarrassment. “What?”

“He kept gushing on and on about you, it was non-stop.”

“That doesn’t sound like Kishibe. Are you sure you’ve got the right one in there?”

“Oh, I’m sure,” she chuckles. “To be fair, he’s had quite a lot to drink. And his tolerance has turned to shit. What’s up with that?”

You’ve recently noticed the subtle changes in his drinking habits. His flask stays on the dish rack all weekend, coincidentally whenever you’re visiting. He rarely orders liquor when you’re out to dinner. He only indulges in a bottle of wine the two of you share occasionally over a home-cooked meal. 

“I don’t know,” you answer, not wanting to admit anything on Kishibe’s behalf. 

You hear her hum in response, taking another hit of her cigarette. “I think it’s because he’s happy. He doesn’t need to forget anymore because he’s got you.”

The words hang tight in your throat, leaving you speechless.

She giggles faintly, aware of the depth her statement holds. “Anyways, I called in case you want the address to our hotel. Master is staying in the room right next to mine. Given the state he’s in, he may need his lovely girlfriend to take care of him.”

You think about this for a minute, still reeling over her touching sentiment just a few seconds ago. Before you can refuse, she offers, “I’ll call you a cab and charge it to work. Consider it a service you’re fulfilling for Public Safety, assisting our highest ranked Devil Hunter.”

Eventually, you agree, thanking her for the idea. She chats with you a while longer as you hastily pack a gym bag with all the essentials, excited to reunite with Kishibe. You hang up with her once you’re out of the apartment, cab already waiting for you. Ten minutes to your destination, you text Himeno your status, allowing her time to bring him back to the hotel to meet you. 

You’re waiting in the lobby when you hear the doors open to see Kishibe hunched between Himeno and another colleague. Her face lights up when she sees you, prompting her to nudge him in the ribs. “Hey, Master. Guess who’s here?”

He lifts his head up slowly, eyes completely blitzed, as he rasps, “Huh?”

You approach them, grinning from his ridiculous expression. It takes a while for him to process, blinking rapidly, as if correcting his vision. When he finally realizes it’s you, he stands up a little straighter and whispers your name. 

“Surprise,” you say, waving in front of him. 

He repeats your name again, removing himself from his coworkers to wrap his arms around you. The smell of liquor is intense, indicating just how drunk he really is. 

“I guess our work here is done,” Himeno smirks. “I think Master is in good hands now. Let’s go, Arai.” She passes you the key card to the room, giving you one last wink before they leave towards the elevators. 

“Kishibe, let’s go to the room now,” you tell him, his body drooped over you. 

“Don’t leave me,” he whines, voice husky from inebriation. 

“I’m not, we’re going to your room together,” you explain, rubbing his back. “Can you walk with me to the elevator?”

He nods languidly, dragging his feet beside you as you make your way up to his room. Inside, he immediately shrugs his overcoat off and collapses into bed face first. You sit at the end of the bed, patiently removing his shoes from his feet. 

In the bathroom, you soak a small bath towel in warm water, wringing out any excess liquid. You grab a fresh bottle of water from the mini fridge and crack it open, pouring it into a glass for easy access. Kishibe grunts into the pillow as you sit beside him, rolling him over so he’s face up. When he sees you, he grins. “Am I dead?” 

“Of course not, sweetie,” you answer, placing the warm towel on his forehead, gently pressing your palm on top. 

“Then why is there an angel here with me?” He lifts his arm to point at you. 

“You’re so ridiculous, you know that?”

He reaches for you, tugging at your sleeve. “The only thing that’s ridiculous is how fucking beautiful you are.” He lays your hand on his cheek, nestling into your palm like a puppy. It’s a side of him that you’ve seen brief glimpses of, but never to this extent. 

“You’re drunk,” you tease him, tapping your thumb at his chin.

“Drunk in love,” he replies, chuckling to himself.

Love. Maybe you’re both too old to put such meaning into words. There’s no doubt that it’s there, never admitted out loud. Why bother saying it when it’s so obvious?

You caress his cheek, tracing the scar that you love so much. He’s told you the story behind it more than once, each time, a new detail added that you tuck away into your treasure box of him in your brain. 

You love everything about him. His past, his present. Flaws and perfections, or the lack thereof. He’s rough around the edges, definitely not sugar-coated, even a bit intense. His immense strength is hidden beneath his stoic demeanor, reserved specifically to hunt devils, never fully revealed to you. Still, you feel safe with him, as if all potential dangers are thwarted in his mere presence. You’ve heard it enough to know that he’s a force to be reckoned with, a serious outlier in a job where young people die and growing old doesn’t exist. He’s the exception. 

And you’re the same for him. A life beyond the confines of devil hunting. An escape that doesn’t involve a bottle. A chance at normalcy in a world where nothing for him is normal. It almost never happened. The first night you met, he warned you about his lifestyle, watched you walk away for your own sake. And now, you’re the exception. 

He gazes at you with half-lidded eyes, still intoxicated, but fully aware. Smiling, he whispers your name. “I love you.”

You stare at him, startled by his candid confession. The words are on the tip of your tongue, easy and effortless, because you truly feel it. But you don’t say it back, thinking he’ll forget this conversation in the morning. You want it to be special, not in the midst of his drunken stupor. 

So, you keep quiet, gradually removing his tie, unbuttoning his shirt, and loosening his belt. After you change and brush your teeth, you return to him, coaxing him into drinking water, which he does, before you both settle under the covers, cuddling. Eventually, he falls asleep, you following him soon after. 

In the morning, you wake up to Kishibe caressing your cheek, delicately petting your temple. He’s turned towards you, shirtless and smiling. “Good morning, princess.”

You bite your lip, happy to see him. “Good morning.”

“You surprised me last night, didn’t you?” He pulls you in closer. 

You burrow your face against his bare chest, last night’s booze almost completely worn off. “You can blame Himeno for that. She’s very convincing.”

“I’ll make sure to thank her. Somehow, she knew that I needed you.” He cradles you, kissing your forehead. “By the way, you owe me something.”

“What?”

“You know what.” 

You look up at him. “You remember?”

“Of course I remember.” Pressing his forehead to yours, he whispers, “I love you.”

The second time Kishibe says it, he’s completely sober. And this time, you say it back. 

~~~

When he asks her to move in with him, he almost doesn’t go through with it. 

It’s a Sunday morning. They’ve been dating for six months now, spending most of their time in his apartment, snuggled in his king-sized bed. She often complains about her place, the typical grievances of an adult woman living with a roommate she doesn’t particularly get along with. But it’s not her woes that convince him to ask her. It’s his own selfish desires. 

He wants to wake up every single morning to her pretty face, to that warm smile that ignites every nerve in his body, that cute laugh that plays like the most majestic melody in his head. He doesn’t need drugs or caffeine to give him that energy boost. He needs her.

Today is different than other Sundays. She warned him the night before; she needs to leave early to attend to some roommate business. They’re having issues with the refrigerator, and she, apparently, needs to be there to deal with it. 

They cuddle in bed, enveloped by blankets and body heat, kissing each other softly. This usually leads to something steamy, but not today. When she pulls away to get ready to leave, he’s disappointed, enough that he mutters, “Don’t.”

She turns to face him with a confused expression. “Don’t what?”

He pauses, doubting himself if this is the right moment, so he keeps quiet. 

She returns to the bed, hopping on top of him, palms at his cheeks. “Don’t what, sweetie?”

“Don’t leave,” he musters, through gritted teeth.

Giggling, she nuzzles her nose against his. “You know I have to.”

“You don’t. Not if you live here with me.”

“Are you asking me to move in?”

“Yeah, I am.”

She squeals, smile incapable of being any bigger. The reaction he was hoping for. “Took you long enough. I can’t believe I get to live with you.” She kisses his scar, then his forehead. “My baby.” A smooch on the lips. “My new roommate.” 

He keeps her there, kissing her deep, tongue slipping inside her mouth. She moans into him, grinding her hips on his lap. 

“I’m taking this as a yes, then?”

She nods, sucking on his lower lip. “Mm-hm.”

“Don’t you have to meet your roommate soon?” he reminds her, slipping beneath her shirt to fondle her breasts.

“I don’t fucking care anymore. I’m going to be living with my boyfriend soon. She can get mad at me all she wants.”

He never gets sick of hearing her call him that. Her boyfriend. He’s hasn’t been anyone’s for the longest time. It feels good to be hers. “Are you still sore from last night?” He reaches his other hand down to rub her clit over her panties. 

“A little bit,” she answers, scattering kisses along his neck.

“Let me eat it then,” he whispers, sucking on her ear lobe, slipping past the fabric to slide his finger up and down her folds. “Ride my fucking face. Give me my breakfast in bed. Want to eat this pussy until I’m full.”

It’s safe to say that the relationship with her old roommate is properly ruined this day, in favor of her new one.

~~~

Kishibe is the first to mention having kids. 

A year into your relationship, he tags along to your niece’s birthday party. The mother, Hina, who is your best friend, has already met Kishibe on multiple occasions, but never in a setting like this. A children’s party is another level of crazy that even the insane devil hunter himself might not be able to bear. 

After the usual round of greetings, your niece, Maki, immediately stands in front of him to peer at his face, curious. In his gruff voice, he greets, “Happy birthday, Maki,” proceeding to pat her awkwardly on the head. 

She continues to stare at him, a glint of suspicion in her expression. “Are you an FBI agent or something?”

For some reason, he decided to wear his work attire to a children’s party. You’re trying to contain your laughter as he clears his throat to answer her. “Actually, I am a devil hunter.”

Maki’s eyes go round. “Devil…hunter…?”

“Yup.”

Without taking her gaze off of him, she starts yelling for all her friends, who come running immediately, all marveling at Kishibe. He glances at you, brows twitching slightly in concern. All you can do is grin at him, knowing he’s in for it.

For the next hour or so, the kids take advantage of this opportunity to entertain their premiere guest, challenging him to see how many of them he can carry at once, demanding to be shown his “special” moves, even go so far as to gnaw at his overcoat, acting like true devils. He takes it all in stride, his stoic expression cracking occasionally into the tiniest smile.

You sneak him a few slices of pizza as he bicep curls three of the kids, including birthday girl Maki. Before he eats, he gives you a smooch on the cheek, indicating that he’s actually enjoying himself.

From the other side of the room, you sit next to Hina, who’s carrying her other child, baby Kenji. You’re playing peek-a-boo when your friend asks, “So, do you think you and Kishibe will ever have kids?”

“We haven’t even talked about marriage yet, we’re for sure not thinking about kids.”

“You two don’t talk about that stuff?”

It’s been a year now since you’ve been with Kishibe, and it’s still going extremely well. You’ve been preoccupied with enjoying the relationship that you haven’t thought to discuss important matters yet. You shrug and answer, “No, not really.”

“Well, don’t you think you should bring it up?” 

You think for several seconds before answering, “We’re taking it one step at a time. We’re fine where we’re at now.” 

She gives you a look, as if she wants to say something else, but she ends up dropping it. Maki’s voice rings out from the living room, calling for her. “Oh shoot, can you hold Kenji for a bit? Maki needs me.”

You agree, holding your arms out to cradle him. He peers up at you with the whimsy and wonder that most babies radiate. You smile, finding a comfortable position to hold him in. 

“You’re a natural.” You look up to see Kishibe standing in front you, a birthday hat on his head, probably forced there by the rugrats.

“And you’re a hit,” you reply, grinning. “The kids love you. Are you having fun?”

He removes his hat to place on you instead. “I don’t mind it.” He hovers over your face to give you a playful pinch on your cheek.

Kenji starts to fuss, to which you focus your attention back to him, cooing until he’s peaceful again. From your peripheral, you spot your boyfriend watching you intently.

“You’d make a good mother,” he states, quietly. 

You look up at him, surprised by his statement. “Really?”

“Yeah. You look good like this,” he comments, nonchalant, as if he’s playing it off. You remain silent, still unsure how to respond. 

Then, he comments, “I think we’d be good parents, you and I.”

“You do?” You beam at him, impossible now to contain. 

“Yeah. We’d be great,” he reiterates, gazing at you with a soft, loving expression. 

On the drive home from the party, Kishibe rests his palm on your thigh as he steers with the other. There’s a new vibe between you now, knowing that you’re both on the same page about having children. He actually seems excited about it. 

Back at the apartment, after you put away all of the leftovers from the party, you both retreat into the bedroom to change. While you’re stripped almost bare, aside from your bottoms, he approaches you, hugging you from behind as he kisses your nape. 

You giggle, craning your neck to face him. “What’s gotten into you?”

“I can’t stop thinking about it,” he whispers, grazing your ear with his lips.

“About what?”

“Making a baby with you.” His voice is low and sultry as his hands glide to your waist, slowly slipping under the elastic of your pajamas. 

“Are you serious right now?” 

“Mm-hm.”

His fingers find your pussy, rubbing the fabric against your clit. The other hand tugs your pants past your ass, causing them to fall to the floor, bunched at your ankles. You let out an exasperated moan, almost annoyed at his timing, but most definitely turned on. You lift your feet to shove your clothes away, reaching behind to palm his erection. Of course he isn’t wearing clothes, clad in only his boxer briefs, which are tight around his growing bulge. You’ve been ambushed, and you don’t know whether to be worried or horny. Probably the latter. 

Within a minute, the two of you are naked on top of the bed, not bothering to lie under the covers. He kisses you all over your body, starting at your needy lips, dragging his tongue down to abdomen to nestle his face into your plush stomach. Seconds later, his mouth is surrounding your clit, swishing his spit, swirling his tongue, your whimpers filling the room. You spread your thighs wider, grabbing onto the top of his head, binding his hair into a fist to pull him off when it gets too sensitive. Though he never lets you, always relentless when he eats you out. 

When you come, he slurps on your slick until he’s satisfied, dipping his tongue deep into your pussy walls, collecting every drop of you into his mouth. Once he’s finished, he climbs on top, kissing you on the lips, still wet with your arousal, tasting it for yourself. You wrap your fingers around his hard cock, stroking him before he stands at the edge of the bed, pulling you towards him to position himself in front of you. You hear him open the bedside drawer, retrieving the regularly used bottle of lube, the snap, squelch, and click a familiar sound.

He guides his dick into you slowly, pulling away at the slightest resistance, only to thrust back in gently. Your cunt squeezes around him as he fucks you, bent over your chest to suck on your nipples simultaneously. Without warning, he releases you from his mouth to hoists your legs up onto his shoulder, cock plunging farther into your pussy. 

Surprised, you cry out, “Kishibe!”

His eyes are wild, an animal in heat, fucking you harder and deeper. “I want to fuck a baby in you just like this. Breed you until you’re round in your belly.” He slides his palm over your stomach, stroking around your navel. “Right here.”

There are tears in your eyes from the pleasure, your throat dry from the excessive moans he’s drawing out from you. All you can do is take it. 

“You fucking love this, don’t you? I’ll be such a good daddy to you and our baby,” he grunts.

You nod your head erratically, babbling, “Fuck, I want that so bad. I want that so bad, daddy.”

He chuckles, breathing staggered. “You like calling me daddy now, knowing I’m going to breed you. Knowing I’m going to give you my fucking seed.” He’s hitting your sweet spot over and over, fingers rapidly toying with your clit. 

“Fuck, right there!”

“Daddy’s hitting it good, huh? Giving it to you so fucking good. Gonna fill this pretty pussy with all of my daddy cum, isn’t that right, princess?” He huffs filthy words at you, completely immersed in whatever carnal instinct is controlling him in this moment. 

You tremble all over, skin hot with passion as you climax. He pumps his cock into you, spilling his load until his balls are emptied out. He pulls out slowly, watching his creamy cum leak out of your slit, enjoying it like a masterpiece that he helped paint. 

He lies beside you, both of you calming down from your orgasms. “Was that too much?” he asks, rubbing your belly again.

“No. It was great,” you reassure him, smiling as you cover his hand with yours, entwining your fingers. “Didn’t think you’d have a baby fever all of a sudden.” 

“To be fair, I wasn’t sure I wanted kids. Not since recently.”

“Really? Why?”

“Because now I have a chance at a life like that. I never knew that was possible for me until I met you.”

Your heart swells at this, blinking your eyes to rid any residual or oncoming tears. You lean close to kiss him softly on the cheek. “I love you, Kishibe.”

“I love you too, princess.”

~~~

He proposes on a sunny afternoon in the middle of the week during spring. Cherry blossom season. 

A few months ago, on a whim, they went ring shopping, for shits and giggles. She got her finger sized, which he noted, and she gazed at a particular ring for a good two minutes, a twinkle in her eye that was unmistakable. He knew that was the one, just as he knows that she is the one. 

He bought it two weeks later, and since then, it’s been in his pocket, rolling around in there for months now. He’s been close a few times already, grazing the box with his fingers, ready to whip it out during an especially romantic moment. Still, it never felt right. 

That is, until today. 

They’re both on their lunch breaks, walking off their meal at a nearby park, fingers interlaced seamlessly. This has become routine for them, something they’ve become used to. But every time, he craves it more and more. The intimacy of it. The normalcy of it. He’s getting accustomed to feeling human, and not solely a devil hunting machine. And it’s all thanks to her. 

It’s been two years now, living together in domestic bliss, practically inseparable, aside from their day jobs. He’d carry her around in his pocket if he could, or he’d shrink himself down to be in hers. Either way, he wishes they were always with each other. 

He’s become a man dependent on a woman. If you’d ask him three years ago if he’d ever become like this, he’d scoff and deny it. Now, he doesn’t bat an eye to admit it. He’s fucking needy, and unashamed about it.

They are by no means perfect. A relationship without flaws doesn’t exist in the real world. They argue, as regular couples do, but never going to bed angry. No matter who’s right or wrong, they both listen to each other and talk it out. What he loves about her is that she’s neither a dream nor a fantasy; she’s real. Perfectly imperfect, just as he is. He never has to worry about waking up and finding out it was his imagination all along. He knows she exists by the way her body feels around him, the warmth of skin against his, the lingering scent of her shampoo on the pillows and sheets. Bits and pieces of her scattered through their apartment, mixed with traces of him, combining into a beautiful, cohesive mess. 

Kishibe never considered himself a sentimental person, not until her. Now, everything has meaning. Nothing is too little or insignificant to cherish. Movie stubs, blurry polaroid pictures, a Dirty Thirty! sash and sparkly tiara still hanging on the corner of the vanity. It’s reminders that their time together has never been wasted, especially when life can be cut short in any moment. 

They find a park bench to sit at, watching soft, pink petals float lazily through the breeze. She rests her head on his shoulder, observing all the blossoms falling from the trees. “I wish we could stay like this forever. I don’t want to go back to work.”

He squeezes her hand, hoping his palms aren’t sweating. “Me too.” It’s rare for Kishibe to be nervous, but for some reason, he is. In his pocket, he feels for the vechalvet box, housing the ring. Second guessing himself if this is really right.

“Let’s run away. Quit our jobs and live off the grid,” she teases. It’s not the first time she’s joked about it. They often do, wishing they could neglect the responsibilities of the real world to indulge in each other endlessly. 

“Why don’t we get married first. Then we’ll plan our escape.” 

“We’re practically married, aren’t we?” She nuzzles her cheek against him. “I already consider you my husband.”

He swallows hard, adrenaline coursing this his veins. The moment finally here. “Let’s make it official then.”

It’s a Wednesday afternoon, as mundane as the last, when Kishibe asks her to marry him. It becomes the most special day of his life because she says yes. 

--------------------

End Notes: Thank you all for reading this Kishibe fic! I hope you enjoyed reading just as much as I enjoyed writing it. :)

Taglist: one of my fave people on here @liliorsstuff-blog! thank you for always showing me love and supporting me, love you! 💜

[smoothoperador]

K NO BUT CAN WE TALK ABOUT IT.

cause yeah ttpd is SO boring. like i know most of the songs are 3+ min but tbh most of them don’t sound like songs! gun to my head i couldn’t tell you the difference between the prophecy the manuscript chloe or sophia or marcus or whateverthefuck that song is called.

i miss when she put actual effort into her albums, like red. like the tv of red is so amazing, but with 1989 tv it just feels SO lacking especially in the production, and the vault songs don’t even sound like songs! like with red and fearless and even speak now we got fully produced songs that felt special, but with 1989 tv and 80% of ttpd it sounds like scraps she picked up from the floor and glued them together to make a semblance of a song and it’s so disheartening from someone who has genuinely loved her music for years and the different eras but now it all sounds the same

yeah i've been vocal about how much I dislike her new stuff dating back to midnights. i really DON'T LIKE this stripped down, minimalistic synthpop where everything is the same note and there is not a single drum or guitar and i found midnights quite frankly very underwhelming upon its release, but i figured to each their own; besides, taylor's sound famously always evolves in between eras. but she never departed from that direction, which i honestly don't know who to fault for... is it because she genuinely likes it and thinks it's her forte? (it's not. her forte is dramatic storytelling and epic guitars. her forte is speak now and folklore!!) is it because jack and aaron pull her in that direction? is it because she comes to them with half-assed ideas and they're too reluctant to go against their wishes? is it simply mass production of songs? idk, but what she knows is that she could release out a voice memo of her singing the abcs and it would go platinum.

the 1989 vault tracks were the ones i was looking forward to the most, and they were truly disappointing... 1989 had a clear line of production that i loved, but all of the vault tracks were CLEARLY produced after (or during) midnights. now it all feels like midnights rejects that didn't make the cut, and to be honest the last release that felt like it really belonged on its original album is all of the girls you loved before (and sntv vault tracks i guess, i didn't like them tho)

but even THEN midnights was bearable because it had highs (songs that were different, like snow on the beach; or songs that were poignant, like yoyok) but ttpd ... ttpd is unforgivably BLAND. all the songs mesh into one another, even without the sour aftertaste of matty healy the lyrics are abysmal in comparison to what she's come up with before. theres a few good songs hiding in there (so long london and who's afraid are my faves (but once again im gonna hunt down the coward who couldn't make it an actual ROCK song as it shouldve been), i hate it here could also be cute were it not for the corny gen-z title and horrible horrible 1830s lyric), but theyre all undermined by this boring ass coating that envelops the whole album and also drowned out by the sound of 31 SONGS (!!!!) 31 songs is like thrice the size of some albums and it's TOO. MUCH. doesn't give room for the good songs to shine and also pollutes the air with tracks that clearly should've never left taylor's diary. (ttpd song, bdilh, guilty as sin etc are all SO BAD AND ICKY theyre unforgivable)

i've said this before but taylor is truly the mcu of the music industry: she has an incredibly strong and devoted fanbase, she's easily accessible (as in she makes fun pop and pop rock with easy lyrics and hooks which is something MOST of the general public enjoys), she comes out with several new installments a year (of varying quality...), and the longer it goes the more enjoying her and her music requires an encyclopedic knowledge of her previous works (with all the references, easter eggs, etc). and im really sad to think we'll never see the daring taylor that released red when everyone was highly skeptical of the mixed pop/country sound, or the taylor that has the range to make both better than revenge and ivy.

[gerogerigaogaigar]

I remember seeing someone wonder why no one does literary analysis of popular music. I don't have very many mutuals, but if it was one of y'all then this post is for you.

Title And Registration by Death Cab For Cutie communicates the mental and emotional state of its narrator with such efficiency and precision that I cannot let it go unnoticed any longer. The song, read literally, is about a person being stopped by the police and looking for their title and registration papers in the glove compartment and finding a picture of their ex.

The song is absolutely brilliant for communicating structurally how much the narrator doesn't want to think about their ex. The song starts with an entire verse that is the narrator mentally avoiding the topic. They talk about how you never find gloves in the glove compartment and that it should be called something else. The sentiment is corny and cliched and delivered here with the utmost sincerity. The way that the narrator is avoiding his feelings is shown by the song avoiding the point for the entire first verse. After this verse the narrator admits that he found "souvenirs of better times". The song goes on to get more explicit with each verse until the narrator admits that they stay awake all night thinking about this relationship.

Death Cab are pretty good at starting songs small and building them up into subtle narratives, but this is probably my favorite example. Every line down to the title itself adds to the narrative. Title And Registration gives more context as to why he's looking for a legal document in the rain. After all the song never outright says he's been pulled over but it's heavily implied. In the end the song manages to paint a picture of a person breaking down in the rain in front of a cop because he accidentally saw a picture of his ex. It's such a potent picture that is only gleaned by coming at the song sideways. And yet the song leads you sideways into this interpretation as if it were obvious.

[celticbotanart]

Wrote a very depressing tweet earlier, but was a coward and deleted it.

So, instead of being depressed AF on main, I'll take one of the things I said in it and will elaborate in a much better, healthier manner, which is... gushing about music, my beloved, my hyperfixation ~

In the tweet I mentioned André Matos, a BR singer, composer, pianist with a literal degree in classical music and conducting.

He became a literal metal legend here in BR specially in the 90s/2000s. Like for real - he was THIS CLOSE to replace Bruce Dickinson when he left Iron Maiden in the early 90s (Andre was in the 3rd place of choice).

Unfortunately, Andre passed away in 2019 at early age of 47 due to a cardiac arrest - it was very sudden and a shock to everybody, it's kind of insane even now looking back and remembering he's gone.

Anyway. That being said, enough with the sad stuff and let's turn this into THE COOLEST THING you guys will ever learn about Brazilian music!! As a kid, Andre Matos was the vocalist of a band named Viper, and later on as a young adult he joined Angra, a band that still exists to this day with other members and vocalists - BTW!!! SMALL PARENTESIS, the vocalist who replaced Andre in Angra, Edu Falaschi, sang the Brazilian version of "Pegasus Fantasy", Saint Seiya's opening theme back then!! Still a fucking banger, and Edu STILL often sings it to this day; Edu isn't in Angra anymore, I think???

But yeah. As you can see, we're already getting epic and complex and I didnt even get to Andre yet lol ANYWAY!! This is Angra with the OG formation with Andre as the lead singer/keyboardist - he's the 3rd one, the pretty boi in the middle, hehe

Angra was one of the pivotal points in Brazilian hard rock/metal; Sepultura is right there with them, I think - I don't know a lot about Sepultura (that's my sister's territory lol), but I know that much.

I'll skip straight into Angra's stuff cause there's where the good stuff begins!

First album of theirs is called "Angels Cry" and the title song is SUCH a quintessential Angra / Andre Matos song, i swear to gods. And the album art sdkjfhsdkfjshdf it's very Graphic Passion Is My Design. Don't be fooled by the dated album art tho:

Here you'll hear the "classic music interludes" that were very common in Andre Matos' songs due to his background and training in classic music. It's SOOOO 80s and their Iron Maiden influence is SCREAMING, quite literally. Worth mentioning I'm not an Iron Maiden fan lol btw #Poser

Another CLASSIQUE-TM from Angels Cry is "Time".

I'll throw the official videoclip in here because it's hilarious, even though the song slaps ksdjfhskdj (André's corny, pretty metal boi look in his early Angra days is kind of a goal to transNB me, ngl. #GenderEnvy)

WELL, do you guys know folk metal? Like, when we say that, it's usually metal + medieval/European instruments (like Eluveitie, for example).

In 96, Angra did what I like to consider "Brazilian folk metal", metal with BR elements and influences, in their album "Holy Land"

The concept of the album was like, the great navigations but it was also kind of a commentary in colonization - Brasil is our "holy land", and a lot of the songs feature this epicness and bittersweetness, joy and sorrow of being BR. The songs are in ENG, which is kind of ironic, but still The songs being in ENG is due to a lot of factors tbh, all of them involving the fact that Brazil doesn't embrace metal a lot, and they wanted to to sell their songs outside BR bc of that. Which sucks, but i get it.

Here we have CAROLINA IV, an epic describing a ship at sea, and it also references the Portuguese who arrived in BR back in the 1500s.

The song is all in ENG except the intro, which is a chant dedicated to Iemanjá / Janaína / Iemoja, the orisha of the seas and the most well-known orisha around here, if I'm not mistaken

"Hail, hail Yemoja, Hail Janaína And everything that was made in the waters They throw flowers at the sea God save the Queen And my journey on this sphere An orishas' caboclo Soon leaves the Earth Meeting his fate Where the sky meets the sea He will find his safe harbor And that's how it ends..."

Black culture and religions are strong here in BR, and this chant and the instruments used are a tribute to them <3 If you guys know of or remember Michael Jackson's "They Don't Really Care About Us", that's the same beat/Afro-Brazilian influence - in MJ's song, it was the famous group Olodum who did it, I don't know if they were involved in Angra's Holy Land though. "Carolina IV" is a very long with a lot of changes in pace and even genres (again, classical music interludeTM). It's very epic, very 80s metal, and very Brazilian as well, it has everything I love, ahhh <3

In the early 2000s, Andre left Angra and he and other, previous Angra members formed the band Shaman.

I think it's good for me to reiterate at this point that while we had bands like Angra and Sepultura, the metal genre WAS NOT and NEVER WAS mainstream here in BR.

So, the fact that Shaman became incredibly popular in the early 2000s because one of their songs "became to mainstream" was kind of an anomaly. THIS, MY FRIENDS, is where my story with Andre Matos' music starts. Because this was early 2000s, I was around 13 and the reason why I knew about the band, alongside hundreds of other teens at the time, was because a song by Shaman became soundtrack to a BR telenovela. The telenovela in question was O Beijo do Vampiro ("The Vampire's Kiss") and as the name suggests, it had vampires and 'edgy dark fantasy stuff' cause it was more targeted for a younger audience, as the protagonist was this middle schooler aged boy who was actually the son of a vampire.

The BANGER, THE ETERNAL, EVERLASTING ANTHEM from Shaman they chose as a soundtrack to that freaking telenovela was "Fairy Tale", from their first album "Ritual":

I swear to god, this song is fucking everything to any Brazilian metal fan my age. It was a literal game changer to a lot of us, because this was how we discovered or started really appreciating metal, since we were too young to catch on Viper in the 80s or Angra in the 90's. Other bands like Evanecscence, Nightwish and Linkin Park were also starting to become popular, so a lot of metal styles were coming around around that period.

Including a Brazilian singer that also leaned more towards a heavier sound, Pitty! That song is from her first album.

ANWYAY, BACK TO ANDRE MATOS - I'll make an exception here, and share two versions of the same song. I've shared the official videoclip with the studio recording, and below, is a very beloved live performance from 2003:

I'm sharing both versions because they are slightly different - studio ver starts with a religious chant in latin, and the live version includes a violin, played by Marcus Viana (another conductor and a famous composer of soundtracks for Brazilian shows and movies). In the live ver you can also see Andre Matos SLAYING on the piano because dude was a literal master of his craft ksjdfhksjdf

The song starts all calm with the piano, very lullaby-like, and then BAM!, 80s METAL HAIRFLIP AND GUITARS AND EPICNESS. And then it ends how it started. It's such a beautiful track. I love it so much, such a true banger. Makes me nostalgic AF, and I love the "epic tale" nature it has.

Another personal favorite of mine from that time comes from their second album, a track called Born to Be:

I love how it mixes mellow piano lines with heavier metal arrangements, it was kind of their thing and they did it so well! And by the way, I am aware the name of the band / cover of first album might be considered problematic nowadays?? It was the 2000s, unfortunately those things happened a lot. It's looking back into our teen years and realizing things were not as pristine as we remembered fskjdfhksd oh man. But yeah. Aside from that, the songs slap so hard, specially if you like the 80s metal feel. And speaking of the 80s music, Andre covered some pretty badass, daring songs over the years, not only but including... ..."Separate Ways (Worlds Apart)" from Journey, which he recorded after he left Shaman and went solo in the late 2000s:

I cannot affirm that for a fact, but I think this cover is sort of a "meme" because it was kind of a recurring joke that Andre Matos sang like Bruce Dickinson but looked like he was Steve Perry's "long lost son". Steve Perry was the most well-known vocalist from Journey. The "Dont Stop Believin" Journey:

(The picture above is Andre when he was like 15yo in Viper btw dfkjjsdf) And like, this is pretty fucking funny cause if you are here following my art for long enough - like REALLY, REALLY LONG ENOUGH, around 2009 deviantart -, you'll def remember me in my Journey/Steve Perry phase. And my Andre Matos phase too, it was around the same time lol

ANYWAY. BEST FOR LAST. CAUSE THE LAST IS "WUTHERING HEIGHTS" COVER. THE KATE BUSH "WUTHERING HEIGHTS". YEAH. THAT ONE.

Madlad decided to make a metal cover of Kate Bush with this falsetto voice and he just. He just did it. DIDNT CHANGE / ADAPT THE LYRICS, EITHER. You'll hear 22 year old Andre Matos in 1993 fucking scream at the top of his lungs HEATHCLIFF IT'S ME CATHY, I'VE COME HOME, I'M SO COLD LET ME IN-A-YOUR WINDOW. And he's singing VERY VERY HIGH NOTES, this song is fucking hard to sing y'all, I'll let you know right now lol. Anyway.

Here was the Andre Matos / Angra / partial Brazilian Metal history for you, and I hope you like the song recs, and if not, I hope you enjoy the trivia at least!

Remembering his music earlier made me nostalgic, but also made me sad, bc a lot has happened ever since 2003 and the "Vampire Telenovela". I've created OCs inspired by him - it was a two-in-one sort of OC, and he's retired for over a decade now; and I didn't do much with him anyway, so no artworks to show.

And I'm seriously considering bringing his music and influence back to a more recent OC (if you read my post about me looking for a new voice to my transitioned OC, that's what I'm talking about). It's a funny way to go back to where some things started.

That (and a lot of other, unrelated stuff) made me super sad earlier.

Andre Matos left us way too soon, and like I said earlier, it's always weird remembering he's dead, because it doesnt feel like that, to me. Maybe the fact I always "forget" he's gone is because his music and influence on me as a person still lives on, which is sort of a comfort~

-

commission info | patreon | kofi | twitter

[thisaintascenereviews]

Joey Valence & Brae - No Hands

I’ve talked a lot about the idea of music not needing to be “deep” to be good. I love a lot of music that’s just fun, and not needing to be deep, introspective, or thoughtful in any kind of way. One of my favorite albums from last year was in that vein, that being the debut album from hip-hop / alternative duo Joey Valence & Brae. Entitled Punk Tactics, the album was a small burst of 80s-influenced hip-hop, a la Beastie Boys, with a dash of 80s hardcore. It was a really fun, energetic, and tight album that also had some nice flows from both guys, clever and fun lyrics, and an overall upbeat atmosphere. It wasn’t anything special, but it did its job, let alone doing its job well. It’s an album whose sole purpose is to be fun, and in a year where I wanted albums that were fun, I got what I wanted and then some.

I was looking forward to their follow-up, which ended up being titled No Hands, but I didn’t know what to expect from it. They could have just as easily continued their brand of 80s-influenced hip-hop with some hardcore influences, but instead, they went into 90s hip-hop and EDM? The question mark is intentional there, because I’m confused why they would do that. In a sense, though, I’m glad that they wanted to do something different, even if it doesn’t work for me. I don’t know why they went into that direction, but yeah, this album doesn’t do much for me. I wouldn’t say that No Hands is a bad album, or one of the worst of the year for me, but it’s a disappointing listen.

This album just feels lazy to me in a few ways, namely both Joey Valence and Brae’s voices and their lyrics. The instrumentation doesn’t do much for me, either, especially the generic EDM kinda stuff that I’ve never been a fan of, but I feel like the vocals and lyrics are very half-assed. There aren’t real clever bars this time around, it’s almost all super corny and cliched lyrics, and the vocals don’t really stick out, either, but that could be because they don’t have much to work with through the instrumentation and production. There are a couple of songs that I think are fine, but even then, the vocals and lyrics kind of kill them for me; and I have no reason to go back to anything.

I gave the album a few listens, but the more I listened to it, the more I just got bored of it. I don’t hate this album, and like I said, I don’t think No Hands is bad. It’s just okay, but I’ll admit that the atmosphere is still fun and upbeat, it’s just that the songs themselves do nothing for me. As much as I love fun music, I still want to have some of quality with it, and while this record isn’t horrible, it just feels lazy and uninspired. There aren’t any songs that stick out, or any lyrics that stick out, especially compared to their debut, but I’d still give it a listen if you want something fun, upbeat, and catchy enough, even if it’s ultimately forgettable at its core.

[wandringaesthetic]

Regarding Hozier - Oak Mountain Amphitheatre 5/5/24

(setlist, journal, commentary)

Allison Russell opened and I need to give her a listen she has a very beautiful, soulful voice. Funky band and very lovely backing harmonies. A powerful, sunny presence, if a little corny, talking about harm reduction and voting and power.

Had a great time, didn't have a religious experience, though I've found this has as much or more to do with my state of mind as it does with the performance. Made me appreciate a lot of Unreal, Unearth more, which has been my least favorite of his albums (I think the theming makes it a little structurally awkward, and there are some songs on it (butchered tongue, eat your young) that I don't like listening to most of the time because of subject matter.) I realize there are many songs on that album I would still like to hear live (All Things End would be amazing, I think) though I was very happy to hear Francesca [I'D TELL THEM PUT ME BACK IN IT] It threatened to rain the whole time but never did more than sprinkle until we were in the car leaving. Distant lightning started on Nina Cried Power. Doors were supposed to be at 6:00 and we were let in about 6:40. There was a guy who works at the amphitheater in line ahead of us, who, from talking to some other employees, said the fire marshall was there and they were patching some things up for inspection (?? !? ???). The facilities are nice, the food sucks. We were seated right behind the VIP boxes.

I typed the setlist on my phone as the concert went on, and while I can sing along to most of Hozier's songs I don't know the titles of all of them, especially on Unreal, Unearth. So here's my raw notes with commentary from my more lucid Monday morning self in brackets

-De Selby [backdrop landscape with timelapse photography style spinning starry sky, very beautiful, very beautiful song]

-? Unreal unearth track with first order guy [Hux, Domhnall Gleeson] in the video [this is De Selby pt. 2]

-Jackie and Wilson 

-Too sweet [With this hitting #1 I thought perhaps I would be at this concert while it was still #1, a bit of serendipity since I bought these tickets months ago - alas, it's sunk down below most of the tracks on The Tortured Poets Department. Thanks, I hate it]

-Oh to be alone with h you (th God that heroin prays to) [Alone With You - I thought I didn't know the title of this one but I did]

-Dinner and Diatribes

-Francesca [I'D TELL THEM PUT ME BACK IN IT]

-It will come back [wasn't confident of the title of this one but I was correct]

-Cherry wine [Hozier solo - he looked up mid song to find that much of the amphitheatre had their phone lights out. He paused and put a hand to his heart and seemed to genuinely have a little moment]

-From Eden

-Wildflower and Barley (with Allison Russell)

-Like Real People Do

-Unknown nth (?) (see how it shines) [actually this was Abstract (Psychopomp)  I told you I did not know the titles of these. Also, now knowing that this is (in part) about an animal hit by a car is well 1) this is obvious and I feel very stupid 2) holy fuck]

- I don't know the title of this one still living roots consumed by the flame oooooooo [this is Would That I - always thought of this one as a sequel to Arsonist's Lullaby]

-Almost (sweet music) (with highlights on the band) [notably, part of the backdrop for this is pictures of records of all the song references/title drops that are in this. In case you did not Get It. Hozier will not be at peace if you do not Get It. To be fair there are a couple of them I would miss]

-Eat your young

-Movement

-Take me to church 

Encore:

nina cried power [with preceding commentary about the history of protest, about the American civil rights movement directly influencing civil rights movement in North Ireland, about boycotting apartheid south Africa, Free Palestine! about movements being seeing the truth as it is and saying that it should be better, etc. (extremely paraphrasing) This went over positively, which is always a nice thing to experience given location (ALABAMA) but the people queueing to buy Hozier tix (the show was sold out and IIRC was sold out in less than 24 hrs after it went on sale) are at least somewhat aware and approving of his politics. May not be gen. pop. but you'll never be alone.]

The being unknown angel to me [THIS is Unknown/nth]

Work song [with Allison Russell, who is notably Not A Coward and did not change the pronouns. I don't know what Allison Russell's sexuality is but she's at least an ally what with the rainbow coalition stuff. Phone flashlights out again.]

[gryffindorkxdraws]

CARDIGAN

Title: Cardigan

Word Count: 1,610

Summary: Rapunzel reminisces of what once was.

Notes: a few of you suggested for cardigan so i'm putting all of that here in one ask. just cus i don't want a song to be repeated! enjoy!

listen to song here while reading

It was raining outside when Rapunzel decided to clean up her room. There was so much to do, and so much to see, or rather, find again with how her room was full of chaos. ‘It’s like having your very own galaxy in here!’ His voice echoed in her head. That was the very first thing Jack said to her when she invited him over, which felt like a lifetime ago.

Vintage tee, brand new phone

High heels on cobblestones

When you are young, they assume you know nothing

Rapunzel sorted out her things by years. Her childhood toys that she made out of recycled materials go on one corner, the bizarre things she collected as a teenager went on the other, and her adult stuff— which were still as random as ever, according to Merida— on her bed. Though those weren’t as much as the others given how she moved out as soon as she hit college. And honestly? She wasn’t sure what she was doing back at home. Visiting her parents, despite that fact being true, felt like an excuse.

Sequin smile, black lipstick

Sensual politics

When you are young, they assume you know nothing

She paused when she found a picture frame buried beneath a pile of clothes in the closet. While only seeing one corner of it, she already knew what it was. Pushing her clothes aside, she then picked up the picture frame and stared at it. There, under its glass, were high schoolers her and Jack smiling at each other. And like magic, the memory behind it resurfaced and played before her eyes.

But I knew you

Dancin' in your Levi's

Drunk under a streetlight, I

I knew you

Hand under my sweatshirt

Baby, kiss it better, I

Jack was drunk, somewhat, after they stole beer from Hiccup’s stash, and he laughed from a corny joke Rapunzel excitedly shared. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t tipsy too, and, perhaps from the influence of alcohol, found Jack’s wheezy laugh all so endearing. 

And if they weren’t exchanging jokes, they were exchanging dance moves with Rapunzel egging him to do better. This prompted him to do a backflip, causing the two to squeal and jump around in his success. That was when Hiccup finally found them to get the stolen goodies back, though he was rather forced to take their picture if they were to return the rest of the beer from Jack’s backpack.

And when I felt like I was an old cardigan

Under someone's bed

You put me on and said I was your favorite

Rapunzel remembered how her heart did a somersault when Jack wrapped his arm around her shoulder for the picture. Though they didn’t bother to turn at the camera. Not when they were so engrossed with each other that Hiccup complained about it. If anything, she wanted that moment to freeze so she could stay in its magic forever. But that night went and passed, and there was nothing she could do to go back to it.

A friend to all is a friend to none

Chase two girls, lose the one

When you are young, they assume you know nothin'

Not wanting to drown in her emotions, Rapunzel placed the picture frame with her high school stuff. Though this still didn’t stop the tears forming in her eyes. It blurred her eyesight in a way that made her wonder if this will all her home will ever be. A reminder of what once was. A reminder of Jack. She then wiped her eyes and moved on, until she stumbled on another thing that sparked a precious memory.

But I knew you

Playing hide-and-seek and

Giving me your weekends, I

I knew you

Your heartbeat on the High Line

Once in 20 lifetimes, I

From her pile of clothes that she finally got to sort was a worn out cardigan that she and Jack used to share once upon a time. She carefully picked it up, hesitated for a second, before bringing the cloth to her nose. It smelled like her closet, but also faintly of Jack’s woodsy smell. That boy did, after all, enjoy venturing through the windows nearby their neighborhood, saying it was full of secrets and whatnot.

And when I felt like I was an old cardigan

Under someone's bed

You put me on and said I was your favorite

They had this thing, you see, of sharing the cardigan and taking turns on who gets to keep it or wear it for the day. Or a week, if one forgets to ask for it. Rapunzel still remembers the day they found out in their local thrift store, and how their argument of who gets to buy it was eventually solved by Merida when she jokingly said “Well, why don’t you take turns wearing it instead and be done with it!” The cardigan, in short, held so many memories in it with how it basically grew up with them throughout high school.

To kiss in cars and downtown bars

Was all we needed

You drew stars around my scars

But now I'm bleedin'

But now all it reminded Rapunzel was how things could never go back to what it once was. Not after how she ruined everything. Their friendship, their memories, their everything. All it took was for her lips to say three simple words, and the magic ended right then and there.

“I love you.” Rapunzel confessed with all her heart, but it wasn’t enough. 

Or maybe it was too much.

Because Jack stood there before her, speechless. His eyes almost asked ‘Why?’ like what she did was so irreversible and permanent. And each second that passed by with silence stretching on made Rapunzel choke in her overflowing emotions. Something Jack wasn’t ready to catch.

'Cause I knew you

Steppin' on the last train

Marked me like a bloodstain, I

The days that followed after were painful, with Rapunzel dealing with Jack's rejection. Which was followed by this abrupt distance that cut in between them. And no matter how many times they tried, they couldn’t go back to what their friendship once was. Not with both of their hearts broken for different reasons.

I knew you

Tried to change the ending

Peter losing Wendy, I

The night before Rapunzel was to leave for college, Jack visited her through the bedroom window. It was late, and it was sudden, but at that moment they both had this feeling that this might be the last time they’ll ever see each other. Rapunzel wasted no time in pulling him close for a hug, breathing him in before her heart struck. She pushed him away knowing it would do better for her.

I knew you

Leavin' like a father

Running like water, I

And when you are young, they assume you know nothing

She snapped at him to stop giving her mixed signals. Not after she laid her heart out to him, only for him to drop it the very next second. And tried as Jack might to explain to her that he didn’t want to lose her, Rapunzel had already shut her heart from him to protect it. There was nothing Jack could ever say or do that would make her change her mind.

But I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss

I knew you'd haunt all of my what-ifs

The smell of smoke would hang around this long

'Cause I knew everything when I was young

I knew I'd curse you for the longest time

Rapunzel would be lying if she said she got over him. Not when he haunted her wherever she went. She could hear his voice whenever she took notes in class, saying how much fun it would be to disrupt class with a sudden lightsaber duel. She could hear his laughter whenever she found herself losing it over a badly executed joke. She could see the way his eyes would shine whenever she was up to no good.

Which didn’t seem fair at all. She then wondered if it was the same for Jack. If her confession ever haunted him too. Stirred up his life even to at least call things even. She wanted to know so badly, but she never once hit the call button whenever she tapped his number on her cellphone.

Chasin' shadows in the grocery line

I knew you'd miss me once the thrill expired

And you'd be standin' in my front porch light

And I knew you'd come back to me

You'd come back to me

And you'd come back to me

And you'd come back

Days turned into months, and months turned into a year, and now here Rapunzel was. Back in her room where she was determined to get rid of everything that was holding her back to the past. She had a funny feeling then that Jack would come back. He always did after all. Though this time, she was determined to let him go. It was the least she could do for what remained of her heart.

And when I felt like I was an old cardigan

Under someone's bed

You put me on and said I was your favorite

And yet, when she found herself face to face with Jack, who was breathless and looking as beautiful as ever by her front door, the speech she had for him went down the drain. There was something in the way Jack looked at her that sparked this small hope in her heart. Not trusting what she might say, Rapunzel followed her guts as she and Jack made their next move.

[bettyg196]

My thoughts on Eurovision 2023 entries

On this post (which will be updated for 37 days), I will give my ranking, my ratings and my comments on the songs of Eurovision 2023.

Ukraine: TVORCHI - Heart Of Steel

Rank: #25

Rating: 7,5 / 10

Even though I much prefer "Bonfire" (the song from Vidbir 2020), it's a good song and production. It's cool to see this kind of entries in the competition, it's very modern. Ukraine can be proud to have sent this song to Liverpool.

Albania: ALBINA & FAMILJA KELMENDI - Duje

Rank: #23

Rating: 8 / 10

I like how the song starts, it's dramatic without overdoing it, it sounds very Albanian. Too bad the revamp removed the power of the song that we found at FiK 2022. Albina and her family will have no problem qualifying for the final, the Europeans will appreciate the family show.

Belgium: GUSTAPH - Because Of You

Rank: #30

Rating: 6 / 10

Well, I admit "Because Of You" grew a little in me BUT I remain convinced that there were better choices for Belgium. It still sounds corny but it's danceable and listenable and frankly there's worse this year. Belgium's qualification for the final will depend on its running order in the 2nd semi-final.

Ireland: WILD YOUTH - We Are One

Rank: #28

Rating: 7 / 10

The song itself is fine and Wild Youth knows how to perform, however the revamp took away the soul that was in the original version. It sounds more like a World Cup song than a Eurovision song and given the band's discography, they could have done better. I hope they don't bring those masks from the official clip back to Liverpool otherwise it's guaranteed Ireland will finish dead last in its semi-final.

Slovenia: JOKER OUT - Carpe Diem

Rank: #3

Rating: 9,5 / 10

Slovenia made the right choice by selecting Joker Out internally. "Carpe Diem" is a diamond in the rough, a superb entry that reflects the group's universe well. The live performance is better than the studio version, the band members are very charismatic. Slovenia can achieve its best result in the contest with them.

Norway: ALESSANDRA - Queen Of Kings

Rank: #18

Rating: 8 / 10

What a bop ! Norway made an excellent choice by choosing "Queen of Kings". It's very catchy and impactful, I like the idea of ​​adding an Italian intro at the start of her performance and I hope it stays in the Eurovision version of the title. Norway can aim for the top 10.

Spain: BLANCA PALOMA - Eaea

Rank: #2

Rating: 10 / 10

Modern and experimental flamenco ! I love this entry ! "Eaea" is perfect to represent Spain at Eurovision. Blanca Paloma is spellbinding with this dramatic and original song. She deserves the top 5 at least.

Czechia: VESNA - My Sister's Crown

Rank: #19

Rating: 8 / 10

It's a great and well-produced song, but I still don't have any winner vibes to this day. It's sure that Czechia will be noticed this year, but be careful with the staging and the performance should not be messed up. I wish the final to Czechia but of all the favorite countries of the first semi-final, it is the one that has the best chance of not qualifying to everyone's surprise in my opinion.

Estonia: ALIKA - Bridges

Rank: #12

Rating: 9 / 10

"Bridges" is simple but very effective, creative and original as a song. The live performance adds the necessary power for this song. Alika is an excellent performer, in Liverpool she will shine with her determination. Estonia will easily be in the final, it's the best Baltic song for me.

To be continued in the next post.

[snailmail777]

Hello, welcome to snail mail where I will be giving you ordinary blogs whenever I feel like doing so. Today I’ll enlighten you on Ru Paul’s Drag Race, a phenomenon. An absolute pinochle of what queer excellence is. The most authentic LGBTQIA+ representation comes from this television show. Airing for the first time on LogoTV in the year of 2009 & being shot in the basements of the World of Wonder production lot. I enjoy this show, not just because of its bad coloring & corny jokes. Exhibit A: https://www.dragofficial.com/uploads/1/9/3/9/19395567/6119636_orig.png

Despite the horrible coloring which gets fixed by season 2, because they had a budget, this show was set up to be a success within the niche LGBTQIA+ audiences at the time. Given that not many TV shows at the time were highlighting authentic queer experiences and validating them in a way that wasn’t seen as a joke or a stereotype. The early seasons were peak, not just due to authenticity but also for its comedic value alongside the dramatics of it all. I came across a YouTube video about two years ago by drag race YouTube creator JackFed defining the eras of Drag Race (https://youtu.be/8oI0IQSwdy8?si=y02nBRQ1Na1vHws9) and Jack does an amazing job highlighting the growth the show has had & how adaptable it has had to be since its humble beginnings. He separates the eras into 6 eras.

1. Filter? I hardly even know her! (regarding solely to season 1)

2. Don’t Be Jealous of My Budget (about a Ru Paul song titled “Don’t Be Jealous of My Boogie” & referring to seasons 2-3)

3. The Golden Age (seasons 4-6)

4. Social Media A Double-Edged Sword (seasons 7-8)

5. Very High Budget (seasons 9-11 setting the bar way too high)

6. Overload (12-14)

Now being said, the golden era is the highest-regarded season by the fans. Some of the most successful queens came from those seasons, Jinxx Monsoon, Adore Delano & Chad Michaels just to name a few. My point here though is, that regardless of seasons 4, 5, & 6 being the most memorable dan favorite seasons that does not mean there aren’t good seasons or that there are not good + iconic moments here & there from seasons after those. For example, in the high-budget era of season 9, we had one of if not the most memorable moments in TV history whenever Valentina chose not to take off her mask for a Lip Sync for her life. She would like to keep it on, please. Before I get carried away I wanted to emphasize how big the show has gotten. Recently it has received several Emmy nominations and even won some of them! Guest appearances on the judges panel are more iconic than ever before like Janelle Monae & Charlize Theron just to name a few from the most recent season.

It has opened an avenue for queer representation and creatives to showcase their work and talked, whether that be through the runways, the lip sync songs, or acting skills and such. Propelling these queer artists into huge starts that get to work on Broadway, in television, in film & even in the fashion industry. It was an avenue that was never explored to its fullest potential until the likes of Ru Paul’s Drag Race. Thank you & keep snailing it!

[chaoticbard]

Barding

Defining Work

Every bard worth their salt has at least one song that's a perennial crowd favorite, one that consistently earns coin. Alaara has a couple that are fairly reliable when played. One of them is an exaggeration of her and her sister's childhood in which she goes on about how even straight out of the egg, they squabbled. And they did so in the most petty and ridiculous ways imaginable, one-upping each other until an outside force made them band together. Thus ended their war... at least until the evil was defeated. She titled it 'Dragons' Warfare'. Another is a tune all about her first true love. It's an argubaly corny as all get-out tune that's equivalent to something like a 50s doo-wop song. Alaara wrote it when she was very young and just starting out. 'Toril's Angel' is now a veritable classic, and one she still performs upon request. Her first love is very much over with, but she remembers it fondly.

The Cormyr Incident

Alaara is hard-pressed even to this day to go into gritty specifics when it comes to her infamous, disastrous performance in Cormyr. She's even harder-pressed to say the title of the song she'd performed lest it trigger someone's memory that was present during that unfortunately bloody day. Formally speaking, the title of the offending song that earned her the title of 'The Ravager' was 'Hijinks, Hellspawn, and Harlots'. A crude ballad, its lyrics were about anything and everything controversial one could do in life. Well and good enough on its own, but Alaara made the mistake of assigning the lyrics to persons in the audience. Given the drunken state of most of the crowd, this did not play well, and a fight broke out. Alaara ended up in the largest tavern brawl Suzail had seen in a century. Plenty of people left injured. A few left the plane of existence. Regardless of the fact those who died did so only after pulling weapons upon her or upon others, she felt guilty for a very long time about having blood on her hands over a song. What an embarrassing thing to slay someone over.

Alaara's Muses

As if in irony, one of Alaara's muses just so happens to be conflict. She's penned several works regarding varying types of strife. Petty but interesting squabbles from the history books have proven to be a gold mine for her. Stories about pompous nobles warring over land and getting their hubrises shattered. A well-disguised diss track about her former Waterdhavian lover, Rishaal who broke up with her in utter exasperation after his shop was decimated by Alaara on accident... She of course pens ballads aplenty about her adventure to Baldur's Gate. Every companion she traveled with gets a feature tune about themselves and their struggles, and everyone is featured in a work all about fighting the Netherbrain and saving the city. Every tune ends on a good note; Alaara finds no sense in making purely melancholic tunes that leave an audience depressed. Besides, all of her friends' stories came to a happy conclusion, or they're well on their way to them!

Her other, lesser used muse is love. Alaara reserves this muse for special occasions. Hallmarking her first love was one. She wrote a tune or two about Rishaal that held the golden dragonborn in good esteem, and one, of course, in bad. And of course, she'll pen a song (or a hundred) about the love of her life when they come along. Good luck perusing the works as they're in progress, however. These ballads are the only ones she'll get defensive over showcasing as they're being written. No eyes may gaze upon them as they're being completed because they have to be perfect. No sense in being anything less than that for whom she treasures after all.

[gerogerigaogaigar]

LL Cool J - Mama Said Knock You Out

I know I'm an outlier for saying this, but I'm pretty indifferent to this album. It's not bad by any means, but LL just isn't a masterclass rapper for me. Marley Marl has crafted some truly amazing beats for this record. There's a nice lo fi energy that would be picked up a lot as the 90s went on. But LL Cool J's rapping and lyricism? Very hit or miss. The title track, The Boomin' System, and To Da Break Of Dawn are all genuinely very good, but then you get shit like Mr. Good Bar and Milky Cereal which are so embarrassingly corny that they make me wanna shrivel up and die. The real standout track is definitely Farmers Blvd. (Our Anthem) for featuring some obscure rappers from the street LL Cool J came from. It's charming to see LL put his money where his mouth is in terms of hometown pride and honestly the featured rappers kinda outperform him imo. I don't see this as one of the best albums of the 90s like a lot of other reviewers, it's a mixed bag really. High highs and low lows. Good but not great.

Cocteau Twins - Heaven Or Las Vegas

I was a Cocteau Twins fan for years before I learned that they sing in English. It never occurred to me to look up the lyrics, it doesn't matter. If you don't get the vibes within seconds then you aren't going to like this kind of music anyway. Cocteau Twins started as a goth band back in the 80s and the progression of their sound led them inevitably to this, the first dream pop record. This album is ethereal, dreamlike. It sounds like swirling colors, the musical equivalent of staring at the sun with your eyes closed. Heaven Or Las Vegas perfectly embodies the hallmarks of dream pop and it's conjoined twin genre shoegaze. Layered guitars, layered vocals. Effects upon effects until the entire sonic spaced is filled with sound. You can drown in this album. Beautiful.

Kanye West - 808s & Heartbreak

Dropping these again

https://youtu.be/wvgehVhF9D4

https://youtu.be/e7e5BFJa-Ug

Oh how history has vindicated this album. Everyone who hated it when it came out either has to admit they were wrong or admit that they hate the last decade and a half of hip hop. The stripped down production and lack of anything traditionally resembling hip hop was shocking, but the cold depressive atmosphere clearly resonated with audiences because this album was a hit. And now we can look back on it as the starting point for a while wave of singer/rappers to come. But wait there's more! You see I was there Gandalr. I was there 3000 years ago. I was 17 when this album came out so let me tell you from experience. It was huge. Monstrous. Heartless was the biggest song of all time when it dropped. White preps who wore polo shirts to school were blasting this album. I had never paid attention to Ye before this, but Heartless was stuck in my head for months. This shit got white kids into hip hop. I am a case study babey. So while it may run a little long I gotta give this album a ton of respect.

[allthemusic]

Week ending: 27 May 1954

A single song week, but it's an odd song, which is cool, and it seems to fit with the nostalgic vibe of Billy Cotton's song last week. Because this song is nothing if not a throwback - are we having a bit of a 1920s nostalgia moment, here?

The Gang That Sang Heart of My Heart - Max Bygraves (peaked at No. 7)

Max Bygraves has already graced us with Cowpuncher's Cantata. He was a comedian, and that song was lightly comedic, and so is this one, but it's a strange, 1950s sort of comedy that isn't actively offensive, but doesn't read quite like comedy today. It just feels corny, in a slightly charming way.

It's got a very weird title, to my eyes. A quick check tells me that it's a reference to a famous 1899 barbershop quartet standard called The Story of the Rose, which is often referred to by its chorus' first line which is - you guessed it - "Heart of my heart". The song itself was often used in singing Valentines. The more you know.

We don't hear it straight away, but instead get a slightly jazzy intro straight out of the 1920s, harking back to an age of barbershop singing. It actually feels a lot like something Randy Newman might come up with today, a sort of campy, vintage cabaret feel. I really hope that was the spirit this was done in - it makes it so much better, if you assume that nobody involved was taking the throwback style too seriously.

Lyrically, it's simple, and as nostalgic as its tune is. Max thinks back to his youth, in what sounds like a very odd kind of street gang who stood around on street cornners. Excelt, "we were rough and ready guys / But oh how we could harmonise". It's the weirdest, least expected rhyme we've had yet, and I love it!

The whole song's about how this song they used to sing "brings back a memory" and how everything in the past was better, including the spurious claim that "friends were dearer then". He's sure that if he heard the song again, he'd get all emotional - and then the spoken word section begins, with an arch "Let me hear that barbershop quartet. Ready, fellas?"

Amazingly, an actual barbershop quartet then comes in to sing the chorus, except it's peppered with inane observations from Max, none of them delivered particularly convincing, from "It's my favourite" and "Wonderful, isn't it?", to the more impenetrable "Keep it humble boys". They're all just very lame, and amusing and irritating to me in equal measure. I can't decide if they're the worst of the funniest thing ever, they're that bad.

We break only for a dad joke, as Max suggests that "I'll just sing this part solo - so low you can't hear me". Groanworthy, truly, though he does then at least go for a solo, so it's not completely gratuitous.

Still, I can't exactly be sad when he cuts himself off with a spoken "Everybody sing!", which brings the backing singers back for a rousing final chorus. It's a nice moment, though again, it feels like it could be from a Randy Newman song. I'm imagining Mike from Monsters Inc singing this song, and it does improve it quite a bit.

Well, that was a trip. Not necessarily a good one, but it certainly wasn't boring. I'm not sure if people bought this and took it seriously, but it's a lot more fun if you don't. And with that, I think I have to name it as my favourite. So...

Favourite song of the bunch - all together now! - The Gang That Sang Heart of My Heart

[project1939]

Day 33- Film: Skirts Ahoy! 

Release date: May 28th, 1952. 

Studio: MGM 

Genre: Musical 

Director: Sidney Lanfield 

Producer: Joe Pasternak 

Actors: Esther Williams, Joan Evans, Vivian Blaine 

Plot Summary: Three women at various dead ends with men decide to join the WAVES (Women’s US Navy). Mary Kate is jilted on her wedding day, Una hasn’t seen her supposed fiancé in months, and rich girl Whitney is the one who did the jilting on her own wedding day. We follow the exploits of these three and their prospective beaus as they try to survive basic training. 

My Rating (out of five stars): *** on merit, ****½ for how much I enjoyed watching it! 

I needed a movie like this today! Something colorful, silly, cheery, campy... and full of lots of stunning '50s women bonding with each other. First things first, this is not a great film. If it’s in your wheelhouse, you’ll probably get a kick out of it, if not, you’ll probably hate it. But I adored it for the most part. So... 

The Good: 

Esther Williams! Oh my god, Esther Williams! Before today, I had only seen clips of her swimming, never an entire film of hers. She’s so charming and exquisitely beautiful, I was instantly smitten!

The comradery between the three female leads. They were cute and sweet together, and there was no unnecessary conflict added in for drama. 

The Technicolor. It was the vibrant 1950s MGM Technicolor you imagine. 

Just getting a movie with lots of women in it! Hollywood at this time seemed especially allergic to movies like this, so I always love them when they do exist. 

The campy corniness of it was good fun. 

Esther just being her drop dead gorgeous normal-bodied self! She’s got thighs! Her waist is on the thicker side, proportionally... she was an athlete in real life, before being an athlete meant you had to be rock-hard. She’s not overweight by any stretch, but in today’s Hollywood she would probably stupidly be considered so. All I know is, she makes my knees turn to jelly! 

The title. The title. The gloriously silly title! 

Whoever dreamed up the movie poster above? What were they smoking? “More floating heads! We need more!” “But there’s no room!” “Put them on her arm! Her arm!” 

The Bad: 

The music in it wasn’t the greatest. You’re not going to find any classics or standards here. Besides “Anchors Away,” of course! 

The musical numbers were also not very well integrated into the plot. Pretty much every time, the plot had to come to a stop to “put on a show.” Some of the musical numbers were pretty random as well, like when Debbie Reynolds and Bobby Van performed a racially insensitive (?) comedy song, and another where a guy in a nightclub sang a love song. (Although sadly, I understood why that one felt so random- the singer was a black artist. Musicals like this would often put in a number with a black singer who had no connection to the plot, so that it could be edited out of the prints for theaters in the South. And that’s the absolute disgusting truth.) 

The men! Couldn’t they give any of these beautiful women any half-decent men? The girl who got jilted at the altar took the schmuck back! The girl who never saw her suspicious fiancé was still tagging along after him. And Esther William’s character for some reason fell in love with a 50 year old. Who wasn’t all that attractive. He had to have been 20 years older than she, and it just didn’t work for me at all. 

Lots of emphasis on the fact that what women really need above all else is a man. One of the big songs is “What Good is a Gal? (Without a Guy)” So even though it promotes female bonding, it has to undercut it a little. Or a lot! 

I wanted more swimming numbers with Esther. 

[thisaintascenereviews]

AJR - The Maybe Man

Up until listening to pop-rock / indie-pop AJR’s new album, The Maybe Man, I only knew that a lot of people hated them. I had only listened to a couple songs, and I never thought they were outright horrible, but I wouldn’t want to listen to a full record of that. Well, things change, and I decided to be morbidly curious about The Maybe Man, both because I had never heard a full record from these guys and because the circumstances behind it were interesting. This record was written either before or during their father’s passing, as AJR is composed of three brothers whose first name comprise the initials of the band, so they were really going through it. I also listened to a podcast that they were on and talked about the record, so it made me want to hear it, since they seem like great, earnest, and down to earth guys that love music, so I hunkered down late last week and spent some time listening to this record. Is this band as bad as most stuffy online critics make them out to be?

Honestly, no, not at all. While I won’t say that this is the best album of the year, it’s a genuinely good one that kind of surprised me. I had a lot of fun with this, and I found myself surprised by how solid it truly was. I don’t want to oversell this album as some kind of masterpiece, because it’s not, but this record is a lot of fun and oddly poignant in some ways. This album is kind of rooted in rather sad themes, with a lot of songs being about disillusioned with fame, dealing with mental illness, struggling with getting older, and their father’s passing. This album has some good hooks, such as “Touchy Feely Fool,” “Yes I’m A Mess,” “Intertia,” and “Hole In The Bottom Of My Brain,” among others. Hell, the song “Steve’s Going To London” is a song that’s kind of a commentary on how songs don’t need to be about anything. The first half is a bunch of nonsense lyrics about a bunch of people doing unrelated things, and the song jumps into a bit of meta commentary on how they tried to a write a song that tries too hard to be about writing a song.

The album’s centerpiece, though, is the second to last song “God Is Really Real.” This is the track about their father’s passing and it’s honestly kind of a tearjerker. You can really feel the band’s pain as they come to terms with it, but some of the song is about how they’re in denial of their dad’s illness. It’s not attempting to be corny, silly, or over the top, but it’s grounded in more reality. The title is also rather interesting, because one of the biggest lines in the song is “God is really real when you really, really need him,” and “God’s fucking fake ‘til he’s not,” which is a variation on the idea that someone is only an atheist until something bad happens and they need to pray, but it weirdly works.

At the same time, I can understand why people wouldn’t like this. This album is a bit overblown in spots, and some of the lyricism is very corny (there’s a kind of cringy reference to Kendrick Lamar’s “Swimming Pools” in “Steve’s Going To London,” but it works okay for what it is), but they downplay the over the top sound that they normally have. This album is more stripped back, despite having some moments that bombastic and over the top, and it feels more like a straightforward pop album. It won’t blow your mind, by any means, but if you never liked these guys, I’d check this out, even if it’s out of pure curiosity. I won’t say it’s amazing, or even great, but it’s still really good.

[gothicgaycowboy]

dirty little secret

Word count: 4.8k

Summary: you find Eddies actual secret stash.

Warnings: 18+ no minors, sub!Eddie, femdom!reader, afab reader, slight degradation, Eddie has a big ol’ praise kink, use of restraints, oral sex (m receiving), p in v penetration, brief orgasm denial, corny VHS porn, Eddie is a terrible liar, Eddie fearing rejection, friends to lovers.

A/N: I truly don't know why this took me so long to write but I hope you enjoy it!

Much like any other day Eddie invited you over to his place after getting kicked out of class for what seems like the 100th time this week. I’m telling you Mrs.Highsmith has it out for me! Or, maybe wearing a shirt with ‘avid sperm donor’ on it wasn’t your brightest idea to date. Whatever, it was funny! Do you wanna come to my place or not?

You were kinda on Eddies ass lately about graduating so you could finally fulfill your plans of moving out of this hick town together. This plan was supposed to be in motion two years ago when you were hoping to graduate together; I mean what was the point of moving if you were just gonna leave your best friend there to rot? So you decided to stay until the moment Eddie snatches his diploma.

You pulled up to Eddie's place, school wasn't out yet but you already knew where he hid the key. Making yourself at home was never hard here. On days off when you felt particularly bored you would spend entire school days there, just waiting for Eddie to get back. Watching TV, raiding the fridge, occasionally playing Eddie's precious guitar (you were the only other person Eddie allowed to  touch “her”). But today you felt like mixing it up a little.

Through all your 10 years of friendship you never once snooped through Eddie's things. Eddie on the other hand had done it to you many times. Nice thong princess. God Eddie you're stretching it! What, red isn’t my color? Can’t tell with your jeans on, now take it off please. My Jeans? Wow I didn’t know you were that desperate to see me naked sweetheart. The thong you moron!  Maybe you were afraid of what you could find, but after knowing Eddie for as long as you have, it would shock you if you found anything unexpected.

Starting off simple you went through the bathroom first. Nothing too interesting catches your eye off the bat, although you were impressed to see a separate bottle of shampoo and conditioner instead of the 3-in-1 bottle you were expecting. Unable to find anything else in the bathroom, you head to Eddie’s room.

As soon as you enter through the door frame, you're greeted with the familiar smell of weed covered by cheap cologne. The smell might have nauseated others, but it comforted you. It was most likely the element of nostalgia that made you immune to the scent. Most of the memories made between you and Eddie were in this very room. The first time you got high together, Eddie teaching you a few chords of his favorite song, being forced to watch some of the most grotesque horror movies you've ever seen, etc.

Scanning through the bedroom there was nothing popping out that you haven't seen before (you still don’t know where he got those police grade handcuffs from). First instincts told you to search the most basic hiding spots.

Back of the closet? nothing. Night stand drawer? nope. Sock drawer? nada, unless we're counting a few suspiciously crunchy socks.

This left you with one last place to check: under the bed.

You sunk down to lay on your stomach, lifting the blanket that covered the space between his bed frame and the floor. Due to the poor lighting in the room you thought there was nothing there, but after a few seconds of adjusting to the light you saw it. A whole Family Video right there under Eddie's bed.  

You scooped as many of the VHS tapes from under the bed as you could in one motion. Jesus it was a real collection. These weren't just your run-of-the-mil VHS tapes, oh no, no, it was porn. Each title more provocative than the last. You looked through them giggling like a schoolgirl while kicking your feet in the air.

Picking them up one by one and seeing the cheesy posters you started to notice a pattern. The women were always in a dominant position; standing over the men, pulling their hair, even wearing the occasional latex body suit and whip. Maybe Eddie was better at hiding things from you than you gave him credit for...

-

Eddie swore this was turning out to be the longest day of his life. Getting back the results of a failed chemistry test, no Hellfire club, the lecture he got for showing up to class late only be be kicked out of class seconds later-- what a colossal waste of his time.

Now was finally the time of day Eddie looked forward to: returning back to his humble abode and seeing you. There were few things in Eddie's life as consistent and reassuring as you. Every time he felt like a failure you were there to pick him back up and make sure he knew that flunking a few classes didn't make him any less worthy of respect. He would never understand why someone like you could put up with him but he was grateful.

Eddie practically ran out of his van to the front door, eager like a puppy awaiting the arrival of its owner. Bursting through the entrance he was worried when he didn't immediately see you sitting at your usual spot on the couch. Were you running late? No, you were punctual to events you weren't even invited to.

He called out your name. No reply.

He did it again, hoping you were just in the bathroom unable to hear him the first time.

“Yeah, in here,” you called back calmly.

Eddie let out a quick sigh of relief before walking over to his bedroom. Pushing the slightly opened door, its hinges release a horror movie like creak as finds himself paralyzed by fear. Here you were, standing in front of his bed, surrounded by a small mountain of porn and holding one in your hand with a knowing smirk plastered on your face. A title he is very familiar with: Bad Boys Get Punished.

God he didn't know what to do, he could barely think a cohesive thought. This was the most mortified he had ever been around you; not even the time you accidentally caught him getting out of the shower singing Cindy Lauper could have compared to how bare he felt in this moment. You had exposed his guilty pleasure.

“Hi Eddie,” he could hear from your tone you were holding back a river of giggles.

“H-hey,” his voice hoarse as he spoke. Eddie felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead.

You waltzed towards him slowly, as if you were afraid that moving too fast would scare him away.

There was something about this moment; despite the fact that he was scared shitless Eddie had the strange sense that he was becoming turned on. He wasn’t gonna stand here and pretend he never felt this way about you before. Of course he has. You occupied 80% of his thoughts and all his dirtier dreams. He never dared to make a move though, if you didn't feel the same way he did he couldn't stand to lose you over a simple crush. But when you looked at him the way you were right now it was really hard to care anymore.

“Why do you look so nervous Eddie?”

“I don’t know- I just have that type of face I guess...” could his voice stop quivering for five seconds?

“Does it maybe have something to do with the fact that I found your porn stash?” you cocked your head slightly.

“That's not mine!” Eddie found himself shouting defensively; smooth.

You huffed out a laugh at him, “It’s not?” You questioned while pushing the tape against his chest. “Then why is it under your bed?”

Think, think, you moron!

“It must be Uncle Wayne's- yep, that's his,” He nodded vigorously at his excuse.

Your eyes rolled at his obvious lie, shit. “Come off of it Eddie, you really expect me to believe sweet old Wayne hid kinky porn under your bed?”

Eddie looked down at the floor shaking his head, “Sorry, I panicked,”

“It's fine Eds, I’m just teasing you,” your hands fell from his chest, still holding the tape.

An awkward pause filled the room, the phrase deafening silence had never been more befitting to a moment in time.

“I actually noticed a little recurring theme in your collection Eddie,” This made Eddie’s head snap back up to face you. At this point he was convinced this had to be some sort of nightmare; that if he pinched himself hard enough he would wake up and laugh at the odd dream.

“W-what do you mean?” he stuttered.

“Just a little- let's call it unconventional, that all the women in these videos seem to be in the usual man’s position, ya know, dominant.” you said, beginning to move close enough that Eddie could feel every exhale you released against his neck.

“Oh yeah, that,” he brought his fist up to his mouth coughing to clear his throat, “It was all they had at the video store so I just got them, better those than nothing.”

“Are you trying to tell me, the adult video store had only female domination porn?”

“I know it's w-weird, right?” Eddie began nervously fidgeting with his short nails to distract himself from how close you were.

“Mhm...” You bit your lip as you hummed in doubtful agreement.

“So,” You backed up slightly, attempting to make direct eye contact with Eddie, “You don't like this kinda stuff?”

“Nope.” Eddie pursed his lips after the lie spilled from his mouth.

“Okay, so you wouldn't care if we watched it together?”

Eddie’s eyes must have popped out of his head with the force he shot them open at, “What?”

“Well I just figured if you don't actually enjoy this stuff it wouldn't bother you if we made fun of it together, like when we rent those bad movies from Family Video.”

Every excuse in the book was running through Eddies mind but before he had the chance to get one out his mouth worked faster than his brain (as per usual), “Um sure I guess that could be fun,”

He wanted to slam his head through a wall.

Your face instantly lit up with excitement, “Great! You make us some popcorn and I’ll pick the ‘movie’,”

Eddie was right, this was gonna be the longest day of his life.

-

He felt like his whole body was in autopilot mode. His memory from moving into the kitchen to making the popcorn was a vague blur; too caught up in his thoughts of how he let himself get into this situation.

You had to know this was torture to him, right? Eddie had done his fair share of teasing towards you but he didn't think he ever took it this far-- he didn't even rag on you about the vibrator he found in your room! He knew you weren't naïve enough to believe his lies about the tapes, but maybe you did just want to make fun of them, no ulterior motive...

Eddie had just finished spilling the last of the popcorn into the bowl when you announced from the couch that the movie was starting. Without even having to turn and look at the TV screen he recognized which movie you picked-- the intro music giving it away immediately: Mistress Mindy. It was one of Eddies most prized erotic possession, and you are going to make fun of it while he tries desperately not to get a boner.

Great.

“You coming Eds?” you questioned while patting the spot next to you on the sofa.

“Yeah, sorry,” he grabbed the large bowl of popcorn and slowly made his way the short distance from the kitchen to the living room; feeling his skin perspire more with every step closer.

Finally making it to the couch Eddie placed the bowl between your bodies, praying it would be even a slight buffer from your warm skin. He knew if he felt you against him while the tape was playing he would be done for.  How could he be expected to watch porn while sitting next to the person he thought of while he got off, and not get hard?

You briefly turned your face away from the TV, glancing at Eddie with the most sincere smile he had ever seen. God you’re so pretty.

The title sequence barely ended before you started cracking jokes: “How much money do you think she spends to look like knockoff Elvira?”

Eddie tries his best to play along, “Probably too much to look as cheap as she does,” but all he can think about is the amount of times he's imagined you in that exact outfit; from the latex bra all the way down to the ridiculously high heeled shoes.

The scene starts off with a couple panning shots of “Mindy's” body while metal plays, and as much as Eddie wants to look away already and save himself the humiliation, he can feel your gaze watching him just as much as the movie.

There is a quick fade into a new scene, your eyes are greeted by the sight of a lean man whose wrists and ankles are handcuffed to a board, completely nude.

“I don't think this is what the Christ lovers have in mind when they talk about crucifixion,” you laughed.

It took Eddie a moment to realize you were talking, too caught up in avoiding reliving the feelings he got when he watched the film prior, “Y-yeah no kidding...”

Mindy moves slowly into frame, taking her time and letting the flogger in hand drag behind her like a cat's tail; nothing but the man's frantic breathing and loud click of her heels fill the mostly concrete room. She finally reaches him, gliding her perfectly manicured red nails down his chest causing the man to shiver, “Are you ready to be a good boy for me?” she asks condescendingly. He simply nods and whimpers, clearly she’s not satisfied with his response. “I said,'’ she grabs his face, squeezing his cheeks tightly, “are you ready to be a good boy for me?” he moans weakly, “Yes mistress,”

This has officially set Eddie off. He frantically adjusts his jeans in hopes it will make his hard on less obvious but to no avail. If anything he just made it more obvious to you what was going on.

“You okay Eddie?“ he couldn’t tell if your concern was genuine or not.

Eddie found himself unable to form coherent words, “Mhm,”

“Are you sure?” you moved the popcorn onto the floor, crawling to fill the now empty space between Eddie and you, “Because it looks like you do enjoy these kinds of movies after all.” you pointed out smugly, the humiliation only making Eddie’s jeans tighter.

“Fine, I lied alright? I didn’t want you to know I liked this…stuff,” he gestured to the tv screen, “because I didn’t want you to judge me.” he looked down shamefully, shaking with nerves.

“Oh Eddie,” you pulled yourself onto his lap, which really didn’t help his whole boner situation, “I would never judge you. Besides, how do you know I don’t like this stuff too?”

For the fifth time tonight Eddie felt truly shocked, he moved his head back up to see if you were just pulling his leg again, “Do y-you like this stuff?”

“Do you trust me?”

Your reply made Eddie think he had accidentally asked you a completely different question that he couldn’t recall, still he answered honestly, “Of course, more than anyone.”

Smiling at his response, you grabbed his right hand, moving it down to the waistband of your pants. Eddie's heart had never pounded so hard in his life. Pushing his fingers past the band you let him feel the wet patch coating your underwear.

“Jesus,” Eddie gasped, he didn't think he could be any more attracted to you than he already was, but clearly he was wrong.

“Does that answer your question baby?” you whispered into his ear.

“I...think so,”

“Have you ever actually done this before?” you ask not to be cruel, but to gauge his experience with something you've thought about far more often than you would ever admit. 

“No, I tried to hint at wanting to try it out with people I’ve hooked up with but they thought it was weird and gross.” Eddie explained. 

“Would you wanna try it...with me?” your voice came out far less cocky than before, almost meek. 

“I thought you'd never ask,” he laughed, the stress that previously filled his body dissipating with your reassurance. 

Eddie quickly connected his lips to yours, pulling you closer to him in the process so you were chest to chest. There was no hesitation from you, lips interlocking as if it was a natural instinct. The kiss became more sloppy as it progressed quickly. Spit stringing from your mouths as moans leave your lips. God it was everything he ever dreamed about.

Eddie’s large hands began exploring your body, moving from your lower back to your clothed ass. Your hands clasped his, pulling them away from their current resting place. He whimpered as you broke the kiss, “Did I say you could touch me there?” you asked, there was no trace of teasing in your voice.

“No- I’m sorry, I didn’t thi-“ his voice was panicked and cracking as he spoke.

“But that’s the problem baby, you never think, do you?” you mocked.

“No…”

“So what if we put the pretty little head of yours to rest and I make your hands stay where I want them to, would you like that sweetie?”

A lightbulb went off in Eddie's mind realizing where you were going with this. His head shook in agreement.

“You know the rules, I need you to use your words with me,”

“Y-yes please,” he mumbled.

“Good boy,”

Eddie moaned at your words, who knew he could be so desperate.

You stood up off his lap and pulled Eddie to his feet; your hand reaching for his to migrate towards the bedroom. Entering the room you pushed Eddie down onto his mattress, an “oof” leaving his lungs. You turned to grab the handcuffs off the wall and Eddie could feel excited knots start to build in his stomach.

You looked back in Eddie's direction, “We should probably set up a safe word,” you suggested, “how about red?” 

“Okay,” he agreed.

“Put your hands up baby,”

Eddie lifted his arms above his head as instructed. You lifted your left leg over his chest adjusting to sit with your legs wrapped around his torso.

“Doing such a good job for me already,” you praised while clicking the handcuffs shut around his wrists. His cheeks heated at your words, he wanted to pinch himself just to make sure this wasn’t just another wonderful dream.

“Until I say otherwise, your hands will stay handcuffed above your head.” you trailed your hands up and down his chest as you spoke, “You will not touch me until I let you. Your job is to lay back and let me take care of you, can you do that for me?”

“Yes, fuck, please,” he whined. Whoever was out there in the universe looking out for him, Eddie was ready and willing to get down into his knees and kiss their ring for the rest of his life in gratitude.

“Already begging for me baby? You’re more desperate than I thought,” you chuckled lightheartedly.

“Always desperate for you,” Eddie was unsure of where this newfound confidence was coming from but from the look on your face you seemed to enjoy it.

“Yeah?” you teased, “You thought about doing this with me before?” you scooted down, getting closer to the obvious tent in his pants.

“Everyday,” your fingers were playing with the zipper on his ripped jeans. Now laying flat on your stomach with your head resting on Eddie’s upper thigh.

“Well,” you sigh seductively, “you don’t need to just dream about it anymore.” Finally, you unzipped him from his pants, his cock almost fully upright through his plaid boxers.

You thought men with porn-like proportions were one in a billion. Maybe a trick with lighting and cameras because there was no way these guys would be that big. But here Eddie was, laying in front of you to disprove all of your previous beliefs.

Your eyes widened with shock, “Jesus Eddie, how could you hide this from me?” Pulling off the final layer you saw it in all its glory.

“I-“ Eddie was cut off by the vulgar sound of you spitting into your hand, placing it around the tip of his cock. “Fuck!” he groaned as you began lightly stroking him. You certainly knew what you were doing, thumb coming up with each stroke to caress the slit on his tip.

“You like it when I play with you like this?” you asked as if the answer wasn't obvious.

“Yes, so much,” Eddie propped his head up higher on his pillow to get a better view of you.

“What about if I did this?” You leaned forward and began giving his shaft kitten licks, never breaking eye contact for even a second.

Eddie was at a loss for words, “Mmmh,” he banged his head back onto his pillow.

You moved on from licks to kissing your way from the base up to his tip, following the line of a vein on the underside. When you reached the tip you continue your torturous teasing by opening you mouth and sticking your tongue, lightly slapping his cock against the wet muscle.

“Fuck- you’re killin’ me baby,” Eddie’s voice is trembling as he speaks.

“Sorry, you just look so pretty when you squirm for me,” you explain, a grin on your lips as the words fall out of your mouth.

The visual of you smiling with his dick right next to your mouth is a sight Eddie will treasure for the rest of his days.

All thoughts left Eddie’s head as you slowly swallowed his cock down your throat. “Jesus H. Christ,” Eddie's voice cracked with every syllable. The obscene slurping noises filled the bedroom, ringing off the walls and back into Eddie’s ears making him overwhelmed.

You took joy in every second of it, a pridefulness making its way through you at making Eddie feel so good. Similar scenarios to this had crossed your mind when your hands were shoved between your thighs. You hadn’t even noticed your hips were now moving against the mattress below you, searching for friction.

Eddie hips gently bucked up to meet your mouth causing you to moan around his length. The vibrations went straight through him.

“’gonna come,” he warned.

With that you quickly pulled off Eddie’s cock.

“Hey, wha-“ Eddie was cut off by you.

“You’re not the one who decides when you come, remember?” Your voice dripping condescension only made Eddie harder (if that was even physically possible).

“M’sorry,” he mumbled.

“It’s okay baby,” you cooed, “You’re doing so good for me,” you sat up to kiss his temple.

Sitting back on your heels you grabbed the hem of your shirt pulling it off and unclipping your bra.

“You’re so beautiful,”

You want to scoff and blame his words on the fact that you are topless but the soft look in his eyes tells you otherwise.

“Shut up,” your fingers grip his hair as you lay a wet kiss on his lips.

Removing your final layers of clothing you began pulling off Eddie’s clothes starting with his jeans. By the time you got to his shirt you realized you had made a grave mistake by handcuffing Eddie before taking off his shirt.

“Do you like this shirt?” you spoke while playing with the frayed collar of the Metallica top.

“No, not really it’s kinda old and has moth holes in it-“

With the vague permission he gave you, you ripped it from his chest, tearing it in half with a promise: “I’ll buy you a better one.”

In all its glory you had a full view of Eddie’s tattoos chest, his happy trail leading to his currently pulsating cock.

“That was really hot…” he admitted shyly.

“You haven’t seen hot yet baby,” with that you grabbed the condom from his bedside table, ripping open the wrapper and rolling it down his length.

“You ready for me, Eds?”

“Please, please, please,” Eddie begged, his brows raised in desperation, “I’ve been so good for you, please!” his eyes were so wet it almost looked like he was crying.

“I guess you’ve been a good boy for me…” you were now rubbing up against his cock teasingly.

“Yes, I’m your good boy, please,” he was babbling at this point.

“Okay, okay, I won’t torture you anymore I promise,” you lined him up with your entrance, sinking down into his tip.

“Ohmygod,” it all left Eddie in one breath.

slowly making your way down you moaned at the stretch, you’ve never felt this full before.

“Fuck you feel so good sweetie,” you praised him.

Your right palm rested on his peck while your left was making smooth circles on your clit. You began moving carefully so as to not overwhelm Eddie.

“Go faster please,” Eddie requested.

“You sure you're ready for that big boy?”

“Fuck me, I need you to,”

Eddie watched in awe as your tits started bouncing with your speed up pace. Your face scrunched in pleasure as Eddie’s cock hit that sweet spot inside you. “You’re so big Eddie,” it was your turn to whine.

“M don’t say that,” you could tell his vocal cords were strained from begging and moaning already. His knuckles were turning white as he squeezed his hands into fists.

“It’s true, you’re the biggest I’ve ever had, you stretch me out so well,” you started moving more frantically.

“Please, stop talking I’m gonna come too fast,”

“No you won’t,” you pushed yourself all the way down to the base of his cock, stopping your movements completely, “You’ll come when I say so and not a second sooner.” despite your cocky words you were still trying to catch your breath.

Eddie just whined in response.

Getting right back to it, you returned to your previous pace, You could already feel the warmth growing in your stomach. You had never felt so close to orgasm so soon, but it was only slightly humiliating. The thought that Eddie had this effect on you just egged you on more.

“You get to come when I do, okay? I wanna feel you come with me,” your hands grabbed at Eddie’s back, pulling him into an upright position. “And I want you to look at me when you do.”

Your walls squeezed Eddie tighter, both of you moaning at the sensation.

“Com’ere,” you instructed and of course Eddie obliged, his face moving closer to yours. His hands still made no contact with your body despite how desperately he craved it.

“Kiss me,” you didn’t need to tell him twice, his lips crashing against yours. The kiss was much softer than the sex you were having. Eddie did always know how to make you feel special.

Eddie’s lower abdomen rubbed against your clit causing you to whimper into his mouth.

“Are you close?” Eddie asked, fully out of breath.

“Mhm, that means you have to come too, can you do that for me?”

“Yes- shit,”

Your movements became sloppier, you couldn’t tell if the sounds of pure ecstasy that echoed off the walls was all your own doing, or the VHS that was still playing on the living room TV.

“M coming!” you gasped, the rubber band in your stomach finally snapping. Eddie’s moans and the feeling of his cock twitching inside your pussy was a good enough indicator that he followed you, but you could barely notice over your own pleasure.

“Thankyouthankyouthankyou,” a mantra leaving his lips as he came down from his orgasm, still bucking up into you.

Your vision had gone completely black, too caught up in the ecstasy of it all: the orgasm, his body against yours, finally making a move on Eddie.

Eddie collapsed back onto the pillows, pulling you down with him. You stayed like this for a while, your head on Eddie’s chest, his in the wedge of your neck, slowly catching your breath.

“Shit,” you heard Eddie sigh.

“Couldn’t have said it more eloquently myself,” you joked making both of you huff out weak laughs.

“I guess now is as good a time as any to tell you I’d like to be more than friends,” Eddie confessed.

“Well good, because I’m not sure I could ever just see you as a friend after this,”

“Me either,”

Eddie lifted his chin from the crook of your neck to give your lips a gentle smooch; he suddenly pulled away from it, panicked.

“What is it, what’s wrong?” you questioned suddenly, anxious at Eddie’s clear fright.

“I probably should have told you sooner but, better late than never,” he let out a nervous laugh, “I don’t know where the keys to these handcuffs are…”

“Are you serious?!”

“And Uncle Wayne is gonna be home in…” he glanced at his watch, “about 15 minutes,” he chewed on his lower lips.

“Jesus Eddie! Well come on let’s look around. I don’t think your Uncle will believe us if we tell him we decided to do an impromptu magic trick,”

God, what were you gonna do with this boy?