#ask melody hayes

[bburnt-breakfast]

not trying to start anything, but you must've known how fragile her mental state was - I mean, she told you how she died - why she felt like she needed to.

Do you know how insulting it was to hear that she would give her life to die? To be a ghost? To be , ah, what did she say? Free?

What. A . ASSHOLE thing to say. I died alone, trapped in a pile of ash and wood and brick as our house collapsed in on itself. I have burn scars lining my back, my arms, my legs, and I still get phantom pain.

My teenage years were ripped away from me, and now I spend my eternal girlhood being a ghost. No friends, no cute little boyfriend, no family, alone.

I spent years, and years, and YEARS trying to pass on, to see my family. Because I had nobody. And that opportunity, it was ripped out of my hands.

It was ripped away from me, because of her. Because I love her so damn much. It gave me yet more unfinished business.

What an asshole.

[toririvas]

What's Ivan's guilty pleasure snack?

his favorite foods in canon are seafoods and very sweet iced tea, but part of me thinks his guilty pleasure snack is something horribly cheap. it takes him back to those days where it was him and Wade, hanging out, when he was smoking outside of shitty bars with Janet and getting into brutal fights and going out for snacks after. it's gotta be like, a convenience store/gas station/food court kinda food e.g. sheetz. maybe like, cheese fries, with the plasticine orange not-cheese. or hot pockets. stuff like that.

[rootedinrevisions]

Birthday Girl

SUMMARY: Jasmine Harris, a confident WWE superstar, has spent years dancing around her feelings for her best friend and fellow wrestler, Damian Priest. When her birthday night spirals into frustration after Damian’s jealousy over a colleague spills into the open, the tension between them finally ignites. Fueled by a heated confrontation, old feelings resurface, and Damian takes it upon himself to show Jasmine how she truly deserves to be treated—both in and out of the ring. What starts as a volatile argument soon turns into an unforgettable night, where Damian's patience and Jasmine's long-buried desires collide in a whirlwind of passion.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to my bestie @caramara3 for requesting this one! I hope I did your idea justice, babes!

WARNINGS: 18+ SMUT.

WORD COUNT: 5.6k

TAG LIST: @miss-kuki-nz I @just-another-personal-side-blog I @caramara3 I @yana3sworld I @terrortwinunicorn I @hotwheels1108

If you would like to be added to my WWE Tag List please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added!

The Orlando club pulsed with energy, a mix of colorful lights and throbbing bass that enveloped Jasmine as she stepped inside, her birthday dress hugging her curves in all the right places. She had chosen a fitted black dress with a daring neckline, paired with strappy heels that made her legs look impossibly long. It was her night to celebrate, and she intended to make the most of it.

Jasmine spotted a few familiar faces among the crowd, but her gaze was drawn to the dance floor, where the music pulsed in rhythm with her heartbeat. She laughed, throwing her head back, the sound a melody of confidence as she made her way to her friends. The night was just beginning, and she felt a surge of excitement course through her veins.

“Jazz Hands!” a voice called from behind her, breaking through the music. 

She turned, a wide smile spreading across her face as she saw Damian approach, his tall frame cutting through the crowd effortlessly. He had a way about him that made him look effortlessly cool, and the tattoos that adorned his arms were a reminder of the fierce man he was in and out of the ring.

“Happy Birthday!” he said, wrapping her in a warm embrace that felt both familiar and electric. 

For a moment, she allowed herself to bask in the comfort of his presence, the years of friendship wrapping around them like a cozy blanket.

“Thanks, Damian,” she replied, stepping back to look up at him. “You made it.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Got a special birthday drink waiting for you,” he said with a playful wink.

She rolled her eyes, smirking. “You mean the one that’s mostly fruit juice and sugar? Very manly of you.”

“Hey, I have to keep you alive for the after-party, don’t I?” He chuckled, but his gaze flickered past her shoulder, and she sensed a shift in his demeanor.

Turning to follow his gaze, she saw Carmelo Hayes, a recent addition to WWE, casually approaching. He was exuding confidence, and when he spotted Jasmine, his smile widened as if she was the only person in the room.

“Looks like you’ve caught the attention of the new kid,” Damian said, his voice low. 

There was a hint of something in his tone—possessiveness?—that made Jasmine raise an eyebrow.

“Carmelo’s just being friendly,” she replied, shrugging off his concern, even as her pulse quickened under his intense gaze.

The night progressed, and as the drinks flowed, Jasmine found herself drawn to Carmelo’s magnetic presence. He was charming, witty, and had a way of making her feel seen and appreciated in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time. They danced together, their bodies moving in sync, and for the first time in what felt like ages, she felt free.

Damian watched from the sidelines, a storm brewing inside him. Every laugh she shared with Carmelo, every playful twirl, was like a knife to his chest. He was supposed to be the one making her laugh, the one pulling her into his arms.

As Jasmine tossed her head back in laughter, Damian could no longer contain himself. He stormed over, his heart pounding in his chest. 

“Hey!” he shouted, trying to pull her away. 

But in his frustration, he accidentally knocked into Carmelo, causing a drink to spill all over Jasmine’s dress.

“Damian!” she exclaimed, stepping back, the anger in her eyes cutting through him like glass. “What the hell?”

“I—” he started, but the hurt in her expression stopped him cold.

Jasmine was fuming, her face flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and anger. She glanced at Carmelo, who looked equally shocked, and then back at Damian. 

“You just ruined my birthday!” With a growl of frustration, she turned on her heel and stormed out of the club, the sound of her heels echoing on the pavement. 

Damian followed her outside, his heart racing. “Jazz!” he called, but she didn’t stop.

“Why would you do that?” she yelled, spinning around to face him in the dimly lit parking lot. “Why would you make an ass out of yourself like that?”

“Because I don’t like the way he was looking at you,” Damian shot back, his voice low but fierce.

She laughed bitterly, shaking her head. “You don’t get to dictate who looks at or touches me. You’re not my boyfriend, Damian.”

His heart sank at her words, but he couldn’t let her walk away. 

“I want to be!” he blurted out, the admission hanging in the air between them.

Jasmine scoffed, disbelief etched on her features. “Oh, really?” A few days, weeks, or months ago, maybe she would’ve jumped at the chance. But now? After he embarrassed her like this? “Well forget it. I would never date someone like you.”

The silence that followed was thick with tension, and Damian could feel the weight of his mistake pressing down on him. This wasn’t how he wanted things to be, but the longer she stood there, hurt and angry, the more he realized how much he had to lose.

With the air crackling between them, Jasmine’s anger hung in the air like a tempest ready to break. She stood there, her chest heaving, eyes blazing as she fought back tears that threatened to spill. Damian could see the hurt behind her defiance, and it twisted something deep within him.

“Jazz, please,” he started, desperation creeping into his voice. “I didn’t mean to ruin your night. I just... I don’t want anyone else to have you.”

“You don’t get to decide that!” she shot back, her words sharp like daggers. “You’ve had your chance, Damian. I’ve been waiting for you to make a move for years. I thought tonight would finally be different.”

“I was going to,” he replied, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “But you were having fun. I didn’t want to ruin it.”

“Too late for that!” she snapped. “You’ve already ruined everything.”

“Damn it, Jasmine! I’ve liked you for so long, and watching you dance with him, seeing him touch you... I lost it. I didn’t want to stand back and watch anymore.”

Her expression faltered for a moment, confusion mingling with her anger. He never called her Jasmine. It was always Jazz or Jazz Hands. Jasmine was reserved for when he was pissed off with her. Which only happened once before.

But her anger only faltered for a moment before it returned. “So, you just thought you’d spill a drink on me and that would somehow make it better?”

“No! I thought I would get him away from you,” he admitted, taking a step closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I thought I could show you that I’m the one who deserves you. The drink getting spilled on you was an accident. I’m an idiot, not an asshole.”

Jasmine’s heart raced at his words, the sincerity in his voice momentarily softening her anger. But she wasn’t ready to let him off the hook. “You’re acting like a jealous boyfriend, but you’ve never even asked me out, Damian. You can’t just expect me to jump at the chance now.”

“I know,” he said, his voice hoarse. “And I’m sorry. I should have made my intentions clear a long time ago. I don’t want to lose you, Jazz.”

She took a shaky breath, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. “And what if I’m done waiting? What if I want to see where things go with Carmelo?”

“That’s not what you really want,” he said, his gaze intense, as if he could read the very thoughts racing through her mind. “I see how you light up around me, Jazz. Remember that night we stayed up talking until dawn, sharing secrets that no one else knows? You were so animated, laughing like the world outside didn’t exist. Or the way your eyes spark when I mention something you love—like your favorite old wrestling matches or that stupid ‘90s sitcom we binge-watched together on plane rides. You don’t do that with anyone else.”

He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “I know when you’re pretending, putting on a brave face for everyone else, but when it’s just us, you let your guard down. Like when you told me about that tough match last month—the one you thought you’d lost. I could see the fire in you, but I also saw the vulnerability. You don’t show that side to anyone else, Jasmine. You trust me.”

Damian’s expression softened as he continued, “And what about that night at my place, when we were supposed to just watch some stupid reality show? You fell asleep on me, and I didn’t want to wake you. But just as you were drifting off, you sleepily whispered that you loved me. You probably don’t even remember it, but I do. That moment meant everything to me.”

He paused, letting the weight of his words settle between them. “I know you feel it too. You might want to act like you don’t care, but I can see it in your eyes, in the way you react to me. You’re not just pushing me away; you’re fighting against something real.”

She hesitated, the temptation to give in battling with the anger still simmering in her veins. “You think you can just flip a switch and everything’s okay?”

Damian stepped forward, closing the distance between them. “No, but I can try. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right.”

“Then start by apologizing for being a jerk,” she challenged, arms crossed defiantly over her chest.

“I’m sorry for being an ass tonight,” he replied sincerely. “You deserve better than that.”

Her heart softened at his words, and she could feel the walls she had built around herself beginning to crumble. But the hurt still lingered. “It’s going to take more than words, Damian.”

“I know,” he said, determination in his eyes. “Let me show you. Just give me the chance.”

With her heart racing, Jasmine considered his offer. Could she really take that leap after everything that had happened? But deep down, the thought of finally giving in to what had been simmering between them for so long felt exhilarating.

“Fine,” she said, her voice steady. “But if you screw this up again, it’s over for good.”

A grin broke across his face, a mixture of relief and excitement flooding through him. “I won’t let you down, Jazz. I promise.”

As his words hung in the air, a warmth spread through Jasmine’s chest, melting away the remnants of her frustration. She could see the sincerity in his eyes, the way his gaze held hers with a mix of determination and tenderness. The weight of their unspoken feelings settled between them like a comfortable blanket, wrapping her in a sense of security she hadn’t realized she craved. For the first time in a long while, Jasmine felt a flicker of hope igniting within her. Perhaps this night could mark a turning point, a chance to finally explore the depth of what had been simmering beneath the surface of their friendship for so long.

“So, are you going to take me home, or should I get an Uber?” she teased, breaking the spell of the moment.

Damian blinked, pulled from his thoughts by her playful tone. “I’ll take you home,” he replied, a grin spreading across his face. With that, they made their way to his car, the atmosphere shifting as they stepped into a night filled with possibilities.

Damian opened the car door for her, a charming smile gracing his lips as he extended his hand. 

“After you, birthday girl.” Jasmine took his hand, her heart racing slightly as she climbed into the car, feeling the weight of his gentle touch.

As he drove, the atmosphere inside the car shifted to something more comfortable, yet charged. Damian’s hand rested on her thigh, warm and reassuring. It was a gesture filled with respect, not invasive but undeniably intimate. She glanced sideways at him, catching the glint of determination in his eyes.

When they arrived at her place, Damian was quick to open her car door again, offering his hand to help her out.

“It’s the least I can do,” he said, his voice low. He placed a warm hand on her lower back as they walked to her front door, the touch igniting something deep within her.

They paused in front of her door, the air thick with unspoken words. Damian opened his mouth to say goodnight, wanting to respect her space and not push her limits. “Goodnight, Jazz. I hope you had a—”

“Are you going to come inside?” she interrupted, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

He hesitated, a slight blush creeping up his neck as he stumbled over his words. “I— I wasn’t sure I’d be invited,” he admitted, scratching the back of his neck, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness.

Jasmine raised an eyebrow, a teasing smirk playing on her lips. “Well, I am still waiting on a birthday present from you,” she said, her voice laced with playful challenge. Before he could respond, she reached up, grabbed his tie, and pulled him inside.

Damian’s heart raced as he stepped over the threshold, running his tongue over his lips in anticipation. The door clicked shut behind them, and the playful air of the moment hung thick between them, charged with tension and unfulfilled desires.

Once inside Jasmine’s apartment, the atmosphere shifted again, charged with anticipation. The soft glow of the lamp illuminated the cozy space, casting a warm light over the living room. She set her keys down on the small table by the door, stealing glances at Damian as he stepped in behind her, closing the door softly.

“I, uh, didn’t think I’d be invited in,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck, a hint of nervousness breaking through his confident facade.

Jasmine smirked, leaning against the doorframe with an air of playful confidence. “You know, it’s not every day I get a ride home from a big, tall Puerto Rican,” she teased, the glint in her eyes revealing just how much she enjoyed his presence.

Damian chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Well, I’m glad I could offer my ride-share services. Just wait until you see what else I can do.”

Her heart raced at his suggestion, and the playful banter between them felt charged with something deeper. She took a step closer, her voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “You think you can impress me?”

He took a step forward, closing the space between them. “I’m hoping so” he murmured, his gaze locked onto hers, intense and full of promise.

Jasmine felt the heat radiating off him, the memories of their earlier conversation flooding back to her. She was still waiting for her birthday present, and the thought sent a thrill through her. “Speaking of impressing me,” she said, biting her lip, “I’m still waiting for that birthday present, Damian.”

A slow grin spread across his face, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Oh, is that so?” he asked, stepping even closer, his presence enveloping her. “What do you want, Jazz?”

Without thinking, she reached for his tie again, gently tugging him closer until their bodies nearly touched. “Why don’t you come find out?” she challenged, her voice laced with flirtation.

Damian’s breath hitched, a mix of surprise and desire flashing across his face. “You’re playing with fire,” he warned, but the playful glint in his eyes said he was all in.

“Maybe I like fire,” she shot back, emboldened by the electricity crackling between them. “Maybe I want to get burned.”

With that, Damian closed the distance, his lips capturing hers in a deep, passionate kiss. It was everything she’d been longing for, a whirlwind of pent-up desire and unspoken promises. He pulled her closer, his hands sliding around her waist as if they were meant to be together like this.

As they broke apart, Jasmine could see the heat in his gaze, and it sent butterflies fluttering in her stomach. “So, about that birthday present…” he said, his voice low and teasing, filled with unspoken intentions.

Jasmine smirked, her heart racing as she looked up at him, feeling emboldened by the kiss. “I’m curious, Damian. What do you have in mind for this birthday present?” she teased, her voice playful yet laced with desire.

He took a step back, giving her a thoughtful look as he ran a hand through his dark hair. “Well, I was thinking something unforgettable,” he replied, his gaze scanning her features as if he were memorizing every detail. “Something that makes you feel special… because you are.”

Jasmine felt a warmth spread through her at his words, but she kept up the playful banter. “I mean, a simple ‘happy birthday’ would have sufficed,” she replied, her tone light, though her heart was racing.

“Where’s the fun in that?” he countered, stepping closer again, the heat radiating off him as he enveloped her in his presence. “You deserve more than just a few words. You deserve to be treated like the queen you are.”

The sincerity in his voice sent a shiver down her spine. She swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his words settle over her. “I’ll take that compliment, but let’s see if you can deliver,” she challenged, her confidence shining through.

Damian chuckled, leaning in, his breath brushing against her ear. “Oh, I can definitely deliver.”

Jasmine felt the heat of his body so close to hers, the anticipation hanging in the air as she tilted her head slightly, catching his eye. “Then show me,” she whispered, the challenge hanging between them.

With a smirk, he took her hand, leading her deeper into the apartment. The atmosphere shifted, becoming heavier with the promise of what was to come. He stopped in the living room, looking around before focusing back on her. “Do you want to play a game, Jazz?”

She raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “What kind of game?”

“I’m going to make you a deal,” he said, his tone serious but with an underlying playfulness. “If you can guess what I’m thinking right now, I’ll give you whatever you want for your birthday.”

She crossed her arms, a challenge in her eyes. “And if I can’t?”

He took a step closer, lowering his voice to a sultry whisper. “Then I get to have my way with you. No questions asked.”

Jasmine felt her breath hitch at the implication. The thrill of the challenge ignited something deep within her, and she couldn’t help but smile. “Okay, I’m in. But you better not go easy on me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

Jasmine took a moment to consider. She stepped back, trying to think like Damian. He was intense, and brooding at times, but he had a playful side that came out when he was comfortable. 

“You’re thinking about… how much you want to kiss me again?” she guessed, biting her lip as she watched him closely.

He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Not even close.”

She feigned disappointment but quickly recovered, trying to think of another guess. “How about… you’re wondering if I’m going to actually make you work for it?”

“Getting warmer,” he said, leaning closer, his breath warm against her cheek. “But still not right.”

The tension between them was palpable, and Jasmine was beginning to feel the heat rising in the room. “Okay, okay. How about… you want to know if I’m going to scream your name tonight?”

Damian’s gaze darkened, and the playful challenge melted away, replaced with a raw hunger. “Now you’re just trying to get under my skin by giving me ideas,” he said, his voice dropping an octave.

“Maybe,” she replied, stepping even closer, her heart racing. “Maybe I like it when you get frustrated.”

In one swift motion, he closed the gap, pinning her against the wall, his hands on either side of her head. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Jasmine Harris,” he warned, his eyes blazing with intensity.

She could feel her heart racing, the thrill of the moment coursing through her veins. “I know,” she breathed, a smile teasing her lips. “But you’re the one who made me do it. You wanted to play a game, remember?”

Damian leaned in, their lips just inches apart. “I think it’s time to remind you who’s really in control here.”

With that, he pressed his lips against hers once more, deepening the kiss, pouring all the frustration and desire he had been holding back into that single moment. Jasmine melted into him, feeling the weight of everything that had come before them and all the possibilities that lay ahead.

The kiss ignited a spark that traveled through Jasmine like wildfire. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer as she melted into him, deepening the kiss. Damian’s hands roamed her sides, his touch igniting every nerve ending in her body.

As they pulled away, both breathless, Jasmine could see the heat in Damian’s gaze, the tension still crackling in the air between them. “I didn’t know you had it in you to be so bold,” he teased, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

“Guess you don’t know me as well as you thought,” she shot back, her confidence growing with every passing second.

He smirked, his eyes darkening with desire. “Oh, I know you, Jasmine. I know how fierce you are in the ring and how soft you can be when it’s just us. You can be both, and I find that incredibly sexy.”

Jasmine felt her cheeks heat at his words. “You always had a way with compliments, Damian,” she said, her voice teasing. “But I’m still waiting for that birthday present you promised me.”

He took a step back, contemplating her challenge. “Alright then, how about we make this a little more interesting?” he proposed, a mischievous glint in his eye. “I’ll give you a taste of what you’re missing, but only if you can guess what my next move is.”

Her heart raced at the idea of another game, the thrill of the chase reigniting her playful spirit. “Challenge accepted,” she replied, a smirk dancing on her lips.

Damian stepped away and moved to the living room, glancing back over his shoulder with a devilish grin. “You’ll have to catch me first.”

Without thinking, Jasmine lunged forward, her competitive nature ignited. She dashed after him, laughter spilling from her lips as they raced through the apartment. He moved quickly, his long legs easily outpacing her, but she was determined.

Finally, he stopped in front of the couch, turning just as she reached him. With a swift motion, he pulled her into his arms, lifting her off the ground. “Gotcha,” he whispered, his breath warm against her neck.

She laughed, feeling exhilarated as he set her down, their bodies still close. “You’re going to pay for that,” she teased, shoving him playfully.

“Bring it on, Jazz,” he challenged an edge of excitement in his voice.

As the playful banter continued, Jasmine felt a magnetic pull toward him. She stepped closer, her heart racing as she leaned in, teasingly brushing her lips against his cheek. “So, what’s next?” she asked, her voice a sultry whisper.

Damian’s expression shifted, the playful nature giving way to something more serious. “I want to show you how I feel, but I need you to let me know I can first.”

Jasmine’s breath hitched at his words, the weight of his sincerity hitting her. “I… I want that, Damian. But I’m scared,” she admitted, her vulnerability slipping through.

“Trust me,” he said softly, cupping her face in his hand, his thumb brushing over her cheek. “I won’t let you down. I promise to take care of you.”

With his words hanging in the air, she felt the last of her defenses crumble. The intensity of the moment wrapped around them like a cocoon, and she knew she wanted to dive deeper. “Then show me,” she whispered, leaning closer.

He didn’t hesitate. His lips captured hers again, slow and deep, the kind of kiss that spoke volumes of unspoken promises. As they kissed, the world around them faded away, leaving just the two of them in that intimate space.

When they finally broke apart, Damian searched her eyes. “Are you ready for your present?” he asked, a teasing smile playing on his lips.

Jasmine nodded, feeling exhilarated. “Absolutely.”

“Then let’s make tonight unforgettable,” he said, taking her hand and guiding her back toward the couch.

As they settled onto the couch, Damian turned to her, his expression shifting to one of complete devotion. “Tonight is all about you, Jasmine. I want to know everything you like,” he said, his voice low and sultry. “What makes you feel good?”

Jasmine felt a thrill run through her at his words, excitement and vulnerability mixing in a delicious blend. “You really want to know?” she asked, raising an eyebrow playfully.

“Absolutely,” he replied, his gaze steady, unwavering. “I want to make you feel amazing. So tell me.”

She bit her lip, feeling a flutter in her stomach. “I don’t want a quickie or something casual,” she confessed. “I want to feel every touch, every kiss. No rushing. Just… savoring the moment.”

Damian nodded, a satisfied smile spreading across his face. “That’s exactly what I had in mind.” He leaned closer, brushing his fingers along her arm, igniting tingles that spread across her skin.

Jasmine nodded, her heart racing in anticipation. He leaned in, placing gentle kisses along her collarbone, trailing down to the soft curve of her neck. Each kiss was deliberate, full of intent, making her body arch toward him instinctively.

“Tell me if I’m doing it right,” he murmured against her skin, his breath warm and intoxicating.

She inhaled sharply, her pulse quickening at the sensation. “You are,” she whispered, reveling in his touch. “More… just like that.”

His hands traveled to her waist, fingertips dancing over the fabric of her dress, sending shivers down her spine. “I want to know what makes you moan, what makes you squirm,” he urged, his voice thick with desire.

Jasmine felt bold and liberated under his attention. “I love when you take control,” she admitted, looking into his eyes.

With that, he began to explore, his hands roaming her body with a mixture of tenderness and strength. He pulled her closer, making her feel like the only person in the world. As he kissed her, each movement was slow, deliberate, meant to draw out every moment, every reaction.

He paused, meeting her gaze. “What else do you want, Jazz?” he asked, his brow furrowed in concentration.

“I want you to take your time,” she replied, her voice slightly breathless.

Damian smiled, the kind of smile that made her heart race. “Good. I want to worship you,” he said, dipping his head to plant soft kisses along her shoulders, trailing lower as he reveled in her reaction.

With each kiss, he took his time, teasing her with his lips, igniting a fire deep within her. He pulled the hem of her dress up slightly, exposing more of her skin. “Tell me what you want. I need to hear it.”

“I want you to touch me,” she admitted, her voice barely a whisper, the heat rising to her cheeks. “I want you to show me how much you want me.”

“Then I will,” he promised, his voice low and commanding. He shifted, moving to kneel before her, his hands sliding up her thighs, sending electricity coursing through her veins.

“Damian,” she gasped, the anticipation building as he hovered just inches away from her most sensitive spots. “You’re driving me crazy.”

“Good,” he replied, looking up at her with an intensity that made her breath hitch. “I want you to feel that. Just remember, it’s all about you tonight.”

With that, he leaned in, placing soft kisses along her inner thighs, teasing her, making her squirm with need. Jasmine’s fingers grabbed the top of his head, her fingers digging into his dark hair as she urged him closer, her body arching instinctively toward him.

“Please,” she breathed, desperation creeping into her voice. “I need you.”

“Be patient,” he replied, his voice thick with desire as he continued his exploration, each kiss a promise of what was to come.

Jasmine let out a soft whimper, the tension and anticipation coiling tightly within her. “You’re doing a good job,” she praised, her voice shaky. “I promise.”

“Just wait,” he murmured, a wicked smile spreading across his lips. “We’re just getting started.”

As Damian lavished attention on her inner thighs, Jasmine squirmed, every kiss igniting more need within her. His warm breath caressed her skin, and she could feel the heat radiating from him, fueling her own desire. “Damian,” she breathed, gripping the couch as she tried to contain the overwhelming sensations coursing through her.

“Just let go, Jazz,” he whispered, his voice low and seductive. “Trust me to take care of you.”

With a slight nod, she surrendered to him, leaning back against the cushions. He captured her gaze, his eyes dark with intent as he trailed kisses higher, teasing the edge of her lace underwear. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his breath hot against her skin. “I want you to feel every second of this.”

As his fingers danced along the waistband of her panties, he paused, looking up at her with a smirk. “Tell me what you want,” he coaxed, his voice dripping with desire.

“I want you to touch me,” she admitted, her heart racing as she felt the heat of his hands so close. “I want to feel you.”

Damian’s smirk widened as he slowly peeled her panties away, exposing her to him completely. “You’re so responsive,” he said, his eyes glinting with mischief. “I can’t wait to make you feel so good.”

With deliberate slowness, he let his fingers glide along her most sensitive areas, coaxing out soft gasps and moans from her lips. Jasmine arched her back, feeling herself unravel under his skilled touch. “Oh God, yes,” she breathed, her voice a mix of pleasure and urgency.

“Keep talking to me,” he encouraged, his fingers expertly working to build her up. “Tell me how it feels.”

“It feels amazing,” she panted, her chest rising and falling rapidly. “You’re driving me wild.”

“Good,” he replied, his lips curling into a satisfied smile. “I want to hear you say it.”

“I want you, Damian. I want you to make me feel good,” she gasped, her body craving more.

“Then I will,” he promised, leaning in to capture her lips with his, the taste of her mixing with the intoxicating air around them. He kissed her passionately, his tongue dancing with hers, the rhythm matching the movements of his fingers, drawing out every sound, every reaction from her.

As he continued his teasing, he could feel her tensing, the pressure building within her. “You’re close, aren’t you?” he murmured against her lips, his fingers moving with precision.

“Damian,” she whimpered, her body begging for release. “Please don’t stop.”

“I won’t,” he promised, deepening the intensity of his touch. “I want you to come for me.”

With each stroke, he expertly pushed her closer to the edge, Jasmine’s breath hitching as pleasure washed over her like waves crashing against the shore. “Yes! Oh my God, I’m—”

“Come for me, Jazz,” he urged, his voice low and commanding, just the way she liked it.

With a final stroke, she shattered, a wave of ecstasy crashing over her. Jasmine cried out, her body arching off the couch as she let herself fall into the pleasure he’d given her. Every sensation was amplified, sending her spiraling into bliss as he held her, guiding her through it.

“That's it, baby. Just let it all go,” he whispered, his fingers slowing to a gentle caress as her body trembled with aftershocks.

As she came down from her high, Jasmine felt a warm sense of satisfaction wash over her. Damian pulled her into his arms, cradling her against his chest, the intimacy of the moment wrapping around them like a comforting blanket.

“See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” he teased lightly, his fingers playing with her hair.

Jasmine chuckled softly, still riding the wave of pleasure. “You really know how to treat a girl.”

“I told you I’d make it about you,” he said, his tone playful yet sincere. “And I plan to keep that promise.”

With newfound confidence, Jasmine tilted her head to meet his gaze, her heart swelling with affection. “So, what’s next? More of this?” she teased, a playful glint in her eyes.

“Absolutely,” he grinned, leaning in to press his lips against hers once more.

“I want you to make me feel even better,” she whispered, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks. “I want all of you, Damian.”

“Then let’s take our time,” he murmured, brushing his thumb across her cheek. “I want you to enjoy every second of this, birthday girl.”

With that, he began to explore her once more, ensuring Jasmine felt cherished and desired, every kiss and touch a testament to the connection they were building. Each moment was filled with promise and passion, a dance of intimacy that drew them closer together, pushing the boundaries of what they’d once shared.

[resident-paranormal-researcher]

Boop.

- @ask-melody-hayes

Boop to you too, Ghostie.

[legion1227]

DATALEAK iii EP Review

A short collection of tracks that evoke thought-provoking reflections.

DATALEAK iii, if you're unaware, is an EP consisting of three tracks performed by three different artists. The newest entry in the DATALEAK presents three artists delivering impactful lyrics in a poetic melody with lo-fi instrumentals accompanying in a slam poetry reminiscent format.

The first track, I Said, "No," by Ashlee Haze, sets the tone for the next tracks to follow. Haze starts the track by establishing how it transpires and takes inspiration from "I Woke Up" by poet Jameson Fitzpatrick. While Fitzpatrick's piece delves into themes of intimacy and societal violence, Haze delivers a spiritual sequel that stands well on its own, even if you're unfamiliar with Fitzpatrick's version. Haze asserts herself with power concisely in her delivery. Her opening lines follow the essence of Fitzpatrick but have her set off on her own path as she navigates through setting personal boundaries and offers contemplation when thinking about one's own autonomy or societal structures. The criticism and controversy stemming from her actions follow in the poem. "They still called me a tyrant/ called the distance a war." From there, she shifts more into her personal identity, which challenges perception. The track deserves a full listen to witness Haze's lyrical steering as she floats through simplistic instrumentals.

From there, let's transition toward the second track, "Voice Kink" by sxr gripp. The vocals sxr gripp harbors are deep, raspy, and harbor an allure that itches the brain, a notion the artist points out in the track while also making an appropriate comparison to Isaac Hayes and Barry White vocally. The sound definitely helps to get the point across about the appeal a mighty voice contains. Sxr gripp challenges perceptions with remarkable lines and superb delivery. "See your most sensitive sex organ is not between your legs but between your ears." While sxr gripp spends the beginning of the track laying the foundation and providing lyrical food for thought that also doubles as pillow talk, there's expert subversion when playing up the "Voice Kink" as the terms of endearment used aren't what one would expect to hear in the intimate, hedonistic setting. Another must listen to hear clever wordplay.

The final track to round off the EP is I Love It When Black People Ask, "How You Livin'?" by Maya Williams. William's record expresses a deep connection with her experiences in the Black community. There's an earnestness felt when she gushes about how much she loves that phrase and the comfort associated with it. Williams also manages to capture incredibly well a conversational and friendly tone as every line is followed with a light-hearted back and forth between Williams and another. Warmth and its desire radiate throughout the work to its end as the final lines reflect on prayer, alluding to strength in spirituality as well. With sxr gripp composing, the instrumentals prove to be the most compelling, inducing feelings of whimsy. While I wish the track harbored more lyrics to coincide with its runtime, it's wonderous nonetheless. With each track offering something different, DATALEAK iii deserves a listen if you're looking for poignant lyricism across the board.

[omegaremix]

Omega Radio for September 8, 2021; #283.

Crusaders feat. Randy Crawford: “Street Life”

Heavy Joker: “Ace Of Spades”

Nino Ferrer: “I’m Looking For You”

Lafayette Afro Rock Band: “Soul Makossa”

O'Jays: “Darlin’ Darlin’ Baby”

Selda Bagcan: “Yaz Gazeteci Yaz”

Harry Nilsson & Shelley Duvall: “He Needs Me”

Bernard Purdie: “Caravan”

Grover Washington, Jr.: “Knucklehead”

Helio Matheus: “Mais Kriola”

Judy Bailey Quartet: ”Colours Of My Dream”

Earl Klugh & Hubert Laws: “Dream Something”

Eduardo Araujo: “Capoeira”

Joe Thomas: “Mr. Mumbles”

Robert Hall Productions: “Say It Man”

Lonnie Liston Smith: “Love Beams”

Black Savage: “Kothbiro”

Tarika Blue: “My Love Is So Free”

Alessandro Alessandroni: “Southern Melody”

Piero Umiliani:” Chaser”

Isaac Hayes: “Buns O’ Plenty

Chubukos, The: “House Of Rising Funk”

Mahavishnu Orchestra: “Resolution”

David Axelrod: “Holy Thursday”

Steve Gray: “The Double Take”

Orchestra Cometa: “Obstinacy”

Ceyleib People, The: “Changes”

Alan Hawkshaw: “Bluebird”

Rubba: “Push Button”

Sylvano Santorio: “Waves”

Ahmad Jamal: “Don’t Ask My Neighbors”

Bobby Byrd: “Hot Pants (I’m Comin’)”

Studio Group, The: “Underline No. 4″

Fats Gaines Band, The: “Close The Door”

Lee Vanderbilt: “Lonely I”

Mickey & The Soul Generation: “Get Down Brother”

Andy Clark: “Tristar”

Raul Gomez: “6 Son”

Reg Tilsley: “Blue Eyes”

Rufus Thomas: “Do The Funky Penguin”

Tony Esposito: “Leroe Di Plastica”

Jack Purnell: “Iron Cathedral”

Trevor Bastow: “Soft Shades”

Roy Ayers: “The Black Five”

Wee: “Teach Me How”

Bonus Omega; crate-digging and vinyl treasures.

[ginevrastilinski-ocs]

Glee OCs Masterlist [A-K]

Name: Alaska Devon

Pronouns: she/her

Story: Untitled

LI: Noah Puckerman

Quote: And you know damn well, for you I would ruin myself a million little times.

Pinterest: TBD

FC: Madison Iseman

Name: Audrey Clay

Pronouns: she/her

Story: The Band And I

LI: TBD

Quote: Love yourself, girl, or nobody will.

Pinterest: TBD

FC: Barbie Ferreira

Name: Benjamin Evans

Pronouns: he/him

Story: Untitled

LI: TBD

Quote: Any you've got a smile that can light up this whole town.

Pinterest: TBD

FC: Kit Connor

Name: Carina Fabray

Pronouns: she/her

Story: Untitled

LI: Rachel Berry

Quote: The very idea that you're too kind, too sensitive, too emotional, too enthusiastic, too loving is bat-shit preposterous.

Pinterest: TBD

FC: Aimee Lou Wood

Name: Chrissy Chamberlain

Pronouns: she/her

Story: Untitled

LI: Tina Cohen-Chang

Quote: I've been so lucky, I am the girl with golden hair.

Pinterest: TBD

FC: Peyton List

Name: Christine Schuester

Pronouns: she/her

Story: Coming Of Age

LI: Finn Hudson; Quinn Fabray; eventual Quinn Fabray & Sam Evans

Quote: I am holding my loneliness and she is a teenage girl with puffy eyes, and I love her more than I have ever loved anyone.

Pinterest: TBD

FC: Maisie Peters

Name: Connie Sanchez

Pronouns: she/her

Story: Edge Of Great

LI: Marley Rose

Quote: It's not what you lost, it's what you'll gain, raising your voice to the rain.

Pinterest: TBD

FC: Madison Reyes

Name: Cosette Chamberlain

Pronouns: she/her

Story: Untitled

LI: Cooper Anderson

Quote: Please don't ever become a stranger whose laugh I could recognize everywhere.

Pinterest: TBD

FC: Tilly Keeper

Name: Dahlia Jones

Pronouns: she/her

Story: Untitled

LI: Brittany Pierce

Quote: She was sunshine, I was midnight rain.

Pinterest: TBD

FC: China Anne Mcclain

Name: Dorothy Berry

Pronouns: she/her

Story: Untitled

LI: Mercedes Jones

Quote: I'm so tired of being the girl I am.

Pinterest: TBD

FC: Emma Mackey

Name: Dulcie Klempt

Pronouns: she/her

Story: Untitled

LI: TBD

Quote: The seats are empty, the theatre is dark. Why do you keep acting?

Pinterest: TBD

FC: Kristine Froseth

Name: Ellie Duke

Pronouns: she/her

Story: Coming Of Age; [Multi]

LI: N/A

Quote: When you grow up, you should be just like you.

Pinterest: TBD

FC: Abby Ryder Fortson

Name: Elliott Walker

Pronouns: he/him

Story: True Colors

LI: Rory Flanagan

Quote: I want to be great or nothing.

Pinterest: X

FC: Tom Holland

Dance Team: Charlie Fenlon - Duncan Dayrell - Gigi Collier - Hannah Gloss - Lau Reed - Louis Aster - Midge Beryl - Rosamund Gaulett

Name: Emmett Dove

Pronouns: he/him

Story: Untitled

LI: Waverly Jones

Quote: Even in my worst times you could see the best of me.

Pinterest: TBD

FC: Nicholas Galitzine

Name: Garreth Duke

Pronouns: he/him

Story: Coming Of Age; [Multi]

LI: Emma Pillsbury

Quote: Be the reason someone feels welcomed, seen, heard, valued, loved and supported.

Pinterest: TBD

FC: Paul Rudd

Name: Honey Hayes

Pronouns: she/her & they/them

Story: The Band And I

LI: TBD

Quote: I am bitter. I am seventeen. I am searching for the exit.

Pinterest: TBD

FC: Sophie Thatcher

Name: Jake Berry

Pronouns: he/him

Story: Untitled

LI: Blaine Anderson

Quote: Be gentle with me. I'm more delicate than I look.

Pinterest: TBD

FC: Felix Mallard

Name: Jean St James

Pronouns: she/her

Story: The Rose Song

LI: TBD

Quote: How silly of me to forget that I am the love of my life.

Pinterest: TBD

FC: Olivia Rodrigo

Name: Jennifer Glynn

Pronouns: she/her

Story: Untitled

LI: Linda Berry

Quote: How can I ask anyone to love me when all I do is beg to be left alone?

Pinterest: TBD

FC: Liz Gillies

Name: Kathleen Bao

Pronouns: she/her

Story: Untitled

LI: Artie Abrams

Quote: Just because my dreams are different than yours doesn't mean they're unimportant.

Pinterest: TBD

FC: Lana Condor

Name: Kaylee Hummel

Pronouns: she/her

Story: Untitled

LI: Sam Evans

Quote: Gonna find the strength, find the melody, 'cause you showed me how to do it.

Pinterest: TBD

FC: Danielle Rose Russell

Name: Kipp Hudson

Pronouns: he/him

Story: Untitled

LI: Noah Puckerman; Brittany Pierce; endgame Mike Chang

Quote: Mother says I was a dancer before I could walk. She says I began to sing long before I could talk.

Pinterest: TBD

FC: Milo Manheim

[dustedmagazine]

Dust Volume 10, Number 10

The Ex

October closes with a macabre flourish — blackened gardens, elaborate yard displays of skeletons, Halloween, the day of the dead, a terrifying American election.  We music lovers react in various ways, some turning to darker, more ominous musical textures, others seeking solace and distraction, still others ignoring the backdrop completely and listening to what they would listen to anyway.  And so, we gather another wide-ranging dust, spanning sounds inspired by a Bolivian earthquake, pogo-friendly snappy jangle, a crust supergroup, a celebration of the Ex’s 45 years in music, and much more.  This month’s contributors include Jennifer Kelly, Bryon Hayes, Bill Meyer, Jonathan Shaw, Christian Carey, Ray Garraty, Tim Clarke and Ian Mathers. 

Alma Laprida — Pitch Dark and Trembling (Outside Time)

Alma Laprida is an experimental artist and musician from Argentina, here playing a medieval stringed instrument—the tromba marina—through a 21st century array of effects pedals and an 18-inch subwoofer. The instrument, with its yards-long strings and vibrating bridge, is, by itself, capable of unusual sounds. Its natural timbre hovers between a cello and a trumpet. But fed through Laprida’s electronic rig, the sound turns harsh and ominous, blistering and dissolving into tones so low you feel rather than hear them. This album comes from a live performance at Bard College in 2023, taking as its subject Laprida’s experiences during an earthquake in Bolivia. In the long, “Trembling,” low, sustained vibrations make the air tremble, while trebly, metallic sounds skitter and rattle, like pots and pans clattering in the shock. A clock ticks in the foreground, steady on top of roiling, shifting undercurrents. “Vibra,” the other lengthy track, looses then subdues the tromba’s brassy sound, letting the echoes linger for long, not-quite-empty minutes. A corrosive blare interrupts, a foghorn in a world of mists and uncertainty, then clear string tones and its scratching echoes. Pitch Dark and Trembling distills an ambient unease into sound.

Jennifer Kelly

Artificial Go — Hopscotch Fever (Feel It / Future Shock)

This Cincinnati quartet produce a short, sharp brand of post-punk that induces spontaneous pogoing. Hopscotch Fever is Artificial Go’s debut, but it could easily be mistaken for an unearthed gem from late-1970s England with its snappy rhythms and chiming, angular guitars. Vocalist Angie Wilcutt (Corker) adopts an English accent as she sings charmingly, her lyrics unfolding in an energy-filled stream of consciousness that keeps pace with the bouncy backbeat of songs like “Payphone,” “Aphrodisiac,” and the band’s calling card “Artificial Go.” Cole Gilfilen (Corker, The Drin), Micah Wu, and Claudio Thornburgh round out the band’s lineup. Like a game of hopscotch, their churning jangle is a lot of fun but comes to a halt far too quickly. Hopscotch Fever is full of earworms. Its effervescent spirit lingers in our brains long after the music stops.  

Bryon Hayes

Black Toska—The Orphan (Self-Release)

The Madrileño goth punks in Black Toska return with six more haunted, synth-swathed, night visions, revisiting a sound Dusted described in early 2023 as “like John Spencer without all the arch theatricality or Rocket 808 in less of a growl and more of a croon.” If anything The Orphan is even more ominous than Dandelion was, with corrosive guitar sound tripping a hole in “Little Dead Bird” and a fever-dream unease percolating through “The Only Thing We Need.” The best cut is the title track, intimating baroque dangers its flowers-of-evil flare of wah wah and mannered vocal melody. “Who can steal a baby?” asks Victor Garcia, his elegant, jaded voice hemmed in by wild surges of electrified dissonance, as you’re left to consider that bad things—and compelling music—flourish in the shadows.

Jennifer Kelly

Paul Bryan — Western Electric (Paul Bryan Music)

The title might cue you to ponder your power situation, but the intent is more oblique. Bassist-programmer-producer Paul Bryan took Sonny Rollins’ Way Out West, an exercise in restriction that happened to open doors of conceptual opportunity for everyone who was feeling confined by the piano’s roll as the chord cop of bebop. But Bryan, whose cv. includes production and arrangement work with Jeff Parker, Josh Johnson, and Aimee Mann, is a plugged-in kind of guy, so his restriction involved writing the material on a little Yamaha keyboard and recording it with a trio comprising Jay Belleroe on drums and Josh Johnson on alto sax. Since you can’t completely separate a studio dude from his gear, there’s some processing and programmed drum, which results in the album having a soft jazz-funk feel that is uncluttered, but hardly minimal. Western Electric is the answer to a question that few might ask; what if you subtracted the guitar and the layered production from Jeff Parker’s New Breed?

Bill Meyer

CPC Gangbangs — Roadhouse (Slovenly)

CPC Gangbangs is back after a long hiatus and not a bit tamed. The Montreal garage punks with ties to Les Sexareenos and Spaceshit flared out in 2007 and reappeared (some of them) as Red Mass. But 17 years later and without explanation, they bash and slam and clatter again, serving up two covers and one original, all flayed and confrontational like it’s the rock-is-back aughts all over again. CPC Gangbangs jack up Louisiana swamp rock “Going Back to Philly” on agitated city-boy jitters. They blast through “Rock ‘n Roll Enemy #1” from the SF proto-punks Crime with furious intent. They haunt Bo Diddley’s grave site with a rackety beat in “Roadhouse.” It’s referential but never reverent, well-informed but never studious, good stuff.

Jennifer Kelly

Deadform — Entrenched in Hell (Tankcrimes)

Sort of stupid to reference the notion of “supergroup” in relation to a subgenre as witheringly anti-commercial as crust, but Deadform hits all the right notes, as it were: three dudes who have Oakland’s concrete ground into their bodies, and who have played crucial roles in bands as storied as Dystopia, Stormcrow and Laudanum. Dino Sommese (of Dystopia, and also Noothgrush and Ghoul) has the most recognizable name, for listeners beyond the Bay Area and outside of crust’s stinky, dirty milieu, and he pounds the skins and hollers with energy belying his 50-some-odd years. But all the players (including Brian Clouse and Judd Hawk) are all in. Entrenched in Hell doesn’t move beyond crust’s characteristic properties: lotsa nasty metal-tinged guitar parts, some sludgy yuck clotting up the bloodstream, the smell of filthy dreadlocks, and so on. It’s a heavy record, the second half of which hits especially hard. Check out “Peacekeeper” and especially “Fetid Breath.” Then pick yourself up off the dank floor of whatever squat you passed out in and play the tunes again.

Jonathan Shaw

Efterklang — Things We Have in Common (City Slang)

Danish post-rock band Efterklang has been releasing recordings for 20 years, as well as producing an opera in 2015 and making music through core members’ side projects. Things We Have in Common is the culmination of a trio of albums, beginning with Altid Sammen (2017) and continuing with Windflowers (2021). This time out, the group doesn’t eschew its characteristic experimentation, but several of the songs evince a gentle, art pop vibe, particularly “Plant” on which singer/cellist Mabe Fratti guests, “Getting Reminders,” with Beirut and “Animated Heart,” featuring the choir Sønderjysk Pigekor. Efterklang on its own is persuasive too. “Shelf Break” has an artful use of vocoder against oscillating synths and abundantly syncopated percussion. “Leave It All Behind” combines whispered vocals, keyboard arpeggiations, sustained sine tones and a drum thwack on alternating beats. Taken as part of the trio of recordings, Things We Have in Common is its hopeful conclusion.

Christian Carey

The Ex — Great! / The Evidence (Ex Records)

In 2024, the Ex are celebrating their 45th year by putting out their first new music in six years. It’s just two songs on a 45-rpm record (although they’re also throwing a celebratory shindig in Amsterdam and Mechelen late in November). Not many bands last 45 years, and of those that do, it’s pretty rare for them to put out work you’d want to hear as much as the songs that first drew you into their camp. The Ex are not a common band. The quartet of Terrie Hessels, Andy Moor, Arnold de Boer, and Katherina Bornefeld are still engaged with the moment; the words to these two song address current realities with a combination of elliptical expression and blunt veracity. They’re still engaged with each other, locking into these tough, intricate, but fat-free tunes with combustible chemistry intact. And they’re still tuned into the joy and outrage that’s infused their work across four and a half decades. That’s pretty rare.

Bill Meyer

Jill Fraser— Earthly Pleasures (Drag City)

Electronic composer Jill Fraser has been making music for commercials and films, as well as performing New Age pieces live, since the 1970s. Earthly Pleasures is her first album release in a while. It demonstrates her versatility with vintage gear such as the 1978 Serge Modular synth and newer resources such as Ableton Push 3. “When We Get to Heaven” is a ten-minute long track that uses these resources to make a diaphanously appealing arrangement. “Amen 1” and “Amen 2” are more aphoristic, the first with clouds of harmony and a sci-fi sounding ascent, the second with sparking bell timbres, oscillating percussion, sampled voices, and a fluid keyboard part. Earthly Pleasures closes with “I Stand Amazed,” with trebly, widely spaced synths. Fraser has suggested that the theme of this album is, “What happens to our music when we die?” History suggests that mileage varies, but while she is earthbound, one hopes Fraser has more recordings to share.

Christian Carey

Häxenzijrkell — Portal (Amor Fati)

German maestros of bummer black metal Häxenzijrkell are back with another slab of downtempo musical maelstroms, engineered to drag you into a terrible, soul crushing void. That description and the band’s sonic profile sound a lot like blackened doom, but somehow the music on Portal scans as straight-up black metal — at least to this reviewer’s ears. The best tracks are at the end of the record: “Assiah” and “Aeon” drone, churn and distend like the effects of some of that legendary brown acid, which we aren’t supposed to eat. There’s nothing especially lysergic (to invoke that too-trivially used term) about the textures or production of Portal. It’s more the nightmarishness of the tunes, the mechanical edges on the band’s sound, the taste of something metallic at the back of the tongue — all that stuff accumulates, alongside the deliberate, glacial progress of the songs. Soon that glistening, awful wall of ice looms over you. You can see your face on its glassy surface. You know it’s a bad idea to stare, but you can’t help yourself. It’s excruciating. It’s entrancing. You are through the Portal.

Jonathan Shaw

Boldy James & Harry Fraud — The Bricktionary (Boldy James / SRFSCHL)

The Bricktionary is the fourth Boldy James’ tape this year and apparently not the final one. The producer Harry Fraud has also been too busy lately, spreading himself too thin. The good news is that Boldy is good even on generic beats (probably half of his output has been on some unknown guys’ production). It’s the kind of street music which never forgets that it’s an art and not a report card. The best track here is “Shadowboxing.”

Ray Garraty

Danny Kamins — Retainer (Sound Holes)

“Solo Horn,” declares the J-card art, and it does not lie. This tape presents Texan Danny Kamins playing sopranino and baritone saxophones at home, alone. It would appear that he spent his lockdown time developing his circular breathing. On the small horn, his examinations of patterns that subtly vary and throw off flurries of orbiting overtones feels like an homage to Evan Parker’ solo soprano work. Parker got there first with such authority that he has made it hard for other people to do it and not simply sound like him. Kamins sounds great but doesn’t quite overcome the challenge of differentiation. The baritone is another matter. Kamins sculpts massive ribbons of tunneling, rippling sound to consistently compelling effect.

Bill Meyer

Seiji Murayama / Jean-Luc Guionnet — Balcony Inside (Ftarri)

Multi-instrumentalist, graphic artist, composer, improviser, film-maker, etc.; Jean-Luc Guionnet is a confirmed polymath. On Balcony Inside he and frequent collaborator Suijiro Murayama perform a duet for church organ (Guionnet) and snare drum, cymbal and voice (Muriyama). But it might be more accurate to say that they play with space. There’s the apparently capacious interior of the Taborkirche, which Guionnet represents with massive chords that beat against the walls. And there’s the space inside your head, which is likely to be rearranged by Muriyama’s horror-movie-victim cries and emphatic, elastically rhythmic beats. A seasonal suggestion: pipe this music loudly out of your house on Halloween, and keep a tally of how many are drawn by these massive sounds and how many avoid your house.

Bill Meyer

The Necks — Bleed (Northern Spy)

It’s impossible to guess where The Necks might head next, whether live or on record. Their new album, Bleed,is a single 42-minute track that unfolds patiently in an episodic fashion. There are no conventional rhythms from Tony Buck; instead, he punctuates the space with chimes, bowed cymbals and snare and tom rolls that suggest something ominous is about to happen. Sparse, sustained piano notes from Chris Abrahams are left to hang in the air — listen carefully and you can hear breathing in the room — or Abrahams switches to organ and projects pulsing clusters of notes into stereo space. In an unexpected turn, an electric guitar appears, with accompanying tube amp hum. Lloyd Swanton’s bass is largely absent, save for occasional isolated octave plucks, or some ominous bowing. When the piece coalesces in its final stretch with two piano chords, bass and guitar, the music is begging to continue in this vein for at least twice as long as it does but is cruelly cut short. That’s The Necks for you: always expansive, always surprising, always tapping into music’s eternal potential.

Tim Clarke

Rich the Factor — The North Face Whale, Vol. 3 (WE MFR)

We mostly listen to Rich the Facc’s music because of his gruff voice. The North Face Whale, Vol. 3 is another sample of his voice. The big mistake would be to try to pay attention to what he’s saying on these songs. It is some usual nonsense about how he’s “on money mission, not on dummy mission.” Even after dozens of replays no song off this tape stays in memory. But it’s fine. You have only one question: how is The North Face Whale, Vol. 3 any different from Vol. 1 and Vol. 2?

Ray Garraty

Colin Andrew Sheffield — Moments Lost (Sublime Retreat)

Sound source resonates with subject on this brief minimax (a 3” CD embedded in a 5” plastic disc) CD made by Colin Andrew Sheffield, an electronic musician who resides in Austin TX. Sheffield’s preferred method is plunderphonics; he mines his own media collection for sounds to be procured and (most of the time) processed into music of his own. Moments Lost is a soundtrack made from soundtracks. Sheffield has marshalled a mass of samples from movies, mostly string passages that imply moments of pause, reflection, transition and loss, and layered and sequenced them into a 20.33” sequence of sounds daub association and reverie like a painter might daub paint. Played at low volume, it could be your next go-to ambient recording. But if you spend time listening closely, perhaps while peering at the sleeve’s stills from a film that Sheffield played along with the music when he first presented it at the Molten Plains Festival in Denton in 2023, you might find your physique and consciousness sinking deep while you hit the play button over and over.

Bill Meyer

Chelsea Wolfe — She Reaches Out to She Reaches Out to She (Loma Vista)

Considering Chelsea Wolfe hasn’t put out a solo LP since 2019’s Birth of Violence, and that was basically a folk record, casual fans may well wonder what kind of upheavals led to this very different seventh album. On a personal level there have been plenty (sobriety, relationships changing, learning to live alone, etc) and that combined with additional pandemic time spent working on the demos led to Wolfe going in a more electronic direction and deliberately seeking an outside producer (Dave Sitek of TV on the Radio, many others) to transform the songs. The result is further in a darkwave/trip-hop direction than the already protean Wolfe has previously gone, and also one of her most consistently engaging records. Whether on the noisier, spikier bursts of “Whispers in the Echochamber” and “Eyes Light Nightshade” or the more delicate likes of “The Liminal” and “Place in the Sun,” there’s a beautifully sung and relentless Gothic vibe to the whole thing that’s extremely satisfying. Wolfe may well choose to move on again after this, but it’ll be a bit of a shame if she does.

Ian Mathers

[mcalhenwrites]

6 Name the frogs

13 Geckos Automata

Thank you for the ask! :D

6 for Name the Frogs: What makes this fic special or different from all your other fics?

A few of the reasons are spoilers, so I’ll have to navigate around those to answer this question. Some of them deal with the types of relationships I write in the story! (Though I did add a reporter character friendship again.) While I do tend to stick with certain themes in all my stories, like characters navigating trauma, in this one the main character, Irving, is the son of someone openly detested. It makes him a pariah, even though Nestor mistreated him. People think he has been groomed to take over for his father. That has led to some interesting relationship developments in his adult life… And a lack of them, sadly, especially for a kid who acted out in class to impress his peers for laughs. He has been crying out for friends his entire life. 13 for Geckos, Automata: What music did you listen to, if any, to get in the mood for writing this story? Or if you didn’t listen to anything, what do you think readers should listen to to accompany us while reading? Geckos, Automata doesn’t have much of a “playlist” - a lot of my stories don’t, since I tend to either get hooked on a new soundtrack or song in a moment OR I’m repeating the same Yasunori Mitsuda music as I always do. Can’t help it, Mitsuda is good.

Uh, anyway! Here are some songs I definitely recall listening to while writing:

“Abel’s Ark” from Xenosaga Episode III OST, by Yuki Kajiura I want to note that I listened to a lot of this soundtrack recently while editing, and it really fit the mood. But “Abel’s Ark” is the one I keep putting on repeat.

“Dead” from Koudelka OST, by Hiroki Kikuta A peaceful melody from a horror game works well for some of the more heartbreaking moments in Geckos, Automata.

“Waking the Monster” by Darren Hayes When listening to this song, you can definitely sense why it fits the story so well. I actually listened a lot of his music during the writing of this, from “The Future Holds a Lion’s Heart” to “Hero”, but “Waking the Monster” maybe fits a little too well? I’m worried I subconsciously took a lot of plot from the song, even though I actually converged a recent plot with an old one in order to develop the one in Geckos. The old one is from 2011, and yes this song was out back then, but it was about necromancy and stealing from tombs. The one in 2020 that developed alongside some new characters (Duncan, Rosalia, and Kieran) was simply a desire to write a story in a post-apocalyptic world where a group of people banded together and traveled along the train tracks.

“Coffee with a Bullet” from Shadow Hearts OST, by Yoshitaka Hirota I listened to a lot of both SH I & II OSTs, but this one stands out to me a little more than the others. If Hirota didn’t compose it, Mitsuda did. Yes. Mitsuda. I’m predictable.

There’s also a massive chance I was listening to KHUX music at this time, because it hadn’t finished yet, and I was obsessed. This includes a lot of songs from the earlier Kingdom Hearts soundtracks, especially any related to darkness. The game wrapped up in June of 2021, a few months after I wrote the original Geckos draft in one month, so it’s very possible that I was listening to KH music frequently at the time.

[bburnt-breakfast]

do you really mean that?

I can’t tell.

I’m so angry.

So, so fucking angry.

How dare she. I love her so much, but how dare she.

It’s a conflicting mish-mash of feelings that makes my flames raise higher.

[meowzfordayz]

I SEND WAY TOO MUCH STUFF ANON AND WITH PROFILE-

Anyways, for the event, Reader Ghost Town by chloe george x Giyuu Tomioka. Angsty, maybe some fluff if you felt like it, I just want someone to do this song!

If you don't feel comfy though I understand ^^

MILESTONE 15.0

Anon is okay !! ☺️ I enjoy some intrigue and espionage! 😏🕵🏻‍♀️ Not ignoring your song request btw, but yada yada we already clarified things. 😅😉

Song Inspo: My Song Too by Hunter Hayes

CW: none

Giyuu still sings along to that song whenever it comes up on shuffle, softly murmured lyrics bringing a melancholy smile to his lips, haunted depth to his stare, as he remembers how you'd tease him for his Abysmal singing.

Singing out loud had always been a private activity for him, reserved for quiet morning showers and long walks down empty sidewalks after checking once, twice, three times that he was truly alone. Embarrassment played a role, but acute awareness of how torturous his singing would be for any unfortunate soul that happened to be nearby was the main reason — he's a thoughtful fellow, thank you very much.

—

And then he met you.

Cliche? Yes. Beautiful? Yes. Too close to touch, too far to taste? Yes.

—

When discussing hobbies, singing had remained meticulously hidden under board games, appreciating nature, and fluffing and reorganizing throw pillows (don't ask). Already astonished that you stayed after his fluffing-and-reorganizing reveal, he was reluctant to sully your perception of him any further, gently pressing the reins of conversation into your hands for the remainder of your evening together.

The first time you'd heard him sing was the first morning you woke in his bed, faint pitter patter of the shower running, worn and cozy blankets tucked carefully under your chin, something sounding like a nails-on-chalkboard rendition of Marry The Night (by Lady Gaga) rattling through the cracked opened bedroom door... so falling back asleep wasn't an option, but basking in the vulnerability—and amusement—of your newfound understanding of Tomioka Giyuu felt even warmer than sunshine.

—

And then came the storm.

A melody of missed calls, sporadic texts, constantly running late, kisses as stoic as his public facade.

He'd promised he loved you, reiterated over and over again, as he belted One Direction in the car beside you, attempted John Legend to serenade you, and even wrote a couple of songs for you, both pinned stubborn and unforgettable to the tatters of your heart.

But for all the lyrics he caressed into your skin, you rarely sang with him.

Giyuu still sings along to that song whenever it comes up on shuffle, mouthing your part as a familiar aching fills the silence of letting you slip away.

[toririvas]

hayes blr be honest if I made a discord would ppl join it. it'd be a casual affair i just like chill hangout spaces :3.

[askmetodanceus]

Captivating Collaboration: Catie Offerman and Hayes Carll Unite for 'Ask Me to Dance

Step into a world of musical enchantment with the soul-stirring collaboration between Catie Offerman and Hayes Carll in their latest release, "Ask Me to Dance." This harmonious masterpiece weaves together the distinctive talents of two incredible artists, resulting in a melody that resonates with emotion and authenticity. Immerse yourself in the captivating lyrics and melodies as Catie Offerman's ethereal vocals blend seamlessly with Hayes Carll's heartfelt expression, creating a musical journey that invites you to embrace the joy of dancing through life's moments. 

[melodyys-messengerpigeons]

Petition for Melody to spam Phoebe’s phone with this image.

:>

@ask-melody-hayes

gayass

[griffin-wood]

💥🙈💡 for any oc you'd like to talk about!

hiii ryley! tysm for sending in, i'm slowly catching up on asks and thank u again! <3 I'll be answering for multiple oc's - to sorta introduce them or... reintroduce them in a way? so, this includes, nixon (exile), rina (bc), melody (bloonicsona beloved) and sage (ofna)! Under the cut cause it got too long!

(OC Emoji Asks)

💥 COLLISON - what emotions do they have trouble dealing with?

Nixon: honestly, anger. For her, anger is something she tries to avoid - and she opts to forgive and forget route. For her to feel anger, well - she's a demon; anger is...apart of her? SORTA? but, she is like having a hard time to face that. She just...hates being angry, and she wishes she has that fire in her to just, burn everything down (hypothetically) except for well, when she did the thing in the game. But, in general; she has trouble to be like super angry; but, she does wanna get angry and just scream out at the hills or something smh!

Rina: Okay, since Rina is quite a new character - i'm sorta still figuring her out! But, the emotions she lowkey have a hard time to express is honestly, nothing? She tends to manage all of her emotions in a good way!! especially happiness, she is very happy until she saw the freaking [redacted] body in bc. :pensive:

Melody: oh boiii, my hyper gal! she actually haves a little trouble to handle...calmness? (if that's type an emotion sksks - i searched it up, it lowkey is one?? so we shall go with it!) she is...the definition of a firecracker + overthinker. A hyper gal with overthinker tendencies; so she has a hard time to be calm, but she tries - she tries very very best; and she's slowly getting better with it yknow! also, a bit of sadness too; she tends to hide it more than let it show. She just be like NO SAD, JUST HAPPY. HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY! (until well, she just can't hide it yknow!)

Sage: SAME as Melody! Sadness to them is like - poison. They opted to sarcasm instead of sadness. They are quite a master at it, and well; sarcasm did help them at some point of their life - but, sadness...they don't know how to handle it yknow!

🙈 SEE-NO-EVIL - whats a side of your oc that they don't want to show other people?

Nixon: MMMMM, her nasty side. The ugly parts; its also because its hard for her to show it in the first place. So, she just thinks; hey this is good. I don't have to show my ugly side until that scene in the game. (iykyk)

Rina: Her 'insecurity' side, or well; her past self literally if that person will make a come back in her life. She...has some insecurities issues cause, people suck. But, she never wanna show that or will ever show it to people ever. She's better now, but the fact is those around her in the past SUCKED.

Melody: HM HMMM, I think her sadness. She never seems to be a sad person, but if she ever reaches that area; she doesn't want them to see her that. It's a sucky feeling and she wouldn't wish it on anyone ever.

Sage: Their weak side ofc. They are strong; and like the sarcasm helped them to appear strong; and thats enough for them.

💡 LIGHTBULB - is your oc a planner? do they write down every small detail or just wing it?

Nixon: HMMM, a bit of both! Sometimes she would wing it, but as a commander - definitely a planner. A bit of both in one!

Rina: YES. Her life revolves around lists despite how much of a fun person she is. Her dad uses lists, she follows and well; it kept her modeling life much better. She's okay with it!

Melody: A HUGE YES ALSO. She is a whole list kind of person (PURPLE LISTS PLEASE) but, yes - a huge list person.

Sage: Nope, in their words; "I'll wing it." and literally wings it with a quite - unsuccessful outcome.

[dustedmagazine]

M. Sage — Paradise Crick (RVNG Intl.)

Paradise Crick by M. Sage

Colorado-based ambient musician Matthew Sage draws influence from his everyday exploits to create magical sonic microcosms. Whether it’s sailing, exploring his former home city of Chicago or in the case of Paradise Crick camping, pleasurable pastimes form the core of Sage’s music. This sense of the quotidian muse calls to mind a quote from Yoko Ono: “Art is my life, and my life is art.” According to Sage, who is also an artist and an educator, art is both all around us and within us, so why not reflect on it, embrace it, and make something beautiful from it? If we all thought this way, the world would be a much happier place.

With Paradise Crick, Sage creates a reflection of the beauty and the chaos of our wilderness. With synths, field recordings, voice, and instrumentation, he builds songs that are organisms. They breathe and move, tangled within the underbrush. This is also his most visceral work, as he ornaments his typically ambient palette with an assortment of palpable shapes, colors, and textures. The record plays out like a journey, as Sage traverses a forested landscape, establishes a site to bed down, and then retraces his steps. He’s testing out his narrative chops with this album and has succeeded in weaving a captivating story. 

The adventure begins with “Bendin’ In,” a frothy brew of digitalia, harmonica, and guitar. This is a bold opening statement, mimicking the cacophony of forest fauna and setting the stage for the melodic “Map to Here,” in which Sage finds a well-worn path through the scrub. The outright glistening “River Turns Woodley (for Frogman)” introduces beats, chimes, and a delicate descending autoharp melody before the synthesized chirrup of robotic crickets calls forth “Fire Keplo.” At the center of the album is the lovely sunset of “Tilth Dusk Drains,” and its counterpart “Tilth Dawn Rustles.” These two crepuscular pieces signify the start of Sage’s journey homeward, as he breaks camp and sets off to conclude his journey. 

The second half of Paradise Crick feels almost uncanny and alien, as it becomes harder to discern the acoustic from the synthetic. It all becomes a blur. Sage is exhausted and ready to return to civilization. Someone once asked him in an interview where Paradise Crick truly resides. “In your imagination, hopefully. In your heart and in your memory,” he answered. Sage is indeed one with his art, and everything around him is a potential inspiration. What a wonderful ethos to have.   

Bryon Hayes