#genuinely had a fun time listening to this album

[lovenergy]

can’t decide which songs are my top favorites 😭 this album is so excellent

[humanmorph]

in 2021(?) i looped orinoco flow (sail away) by enya for about an hour and 30 mins while grinding levels in persona 2

[29121996]

.

[wibben]

Photogenic

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

Nanami does not like his picture taken.

It’s a shame, really, because he’s painfully and effortlessly photogenic. Even the begrudging shots – the ones taken mid-grimace or right as that frown of his settles in – turn out looking unfairly good.

You’d seen it firsthand. There was that one birthday dinner at Shoko’s, where she’d caught him mid-toast, glass raised and mouth sloping into a small, tolerant smile as she snapped a quick shot of the table. The photo looked like something out of a magazine ad, his cheeks warmed from the sake, his eyes a little brighter. But when she’d tried to show him, he shook his head with an unimpressed grunt.

Or the time Gojo had insisted on a group photo after a team mission. Gojo teased Kento into standing there, arms crossed and brow knitted in simmering annoyance, looking thoroughly put out. But somehow, he just looked like he was on the cover of GQ: chin tilted just right, sleeves rolled up perfectly, even his hair slightly tousled from the fight before. You might’ve whimpered a little when Kento insisted it be deleted (and maybe almost sobbed again with joy when Gojo refused).

No matter the context, Kento managed to look remarkable. And yet, he loathed each and every photo ever taken of him.

You couldn’t quite place where this aversion came from. Maybe a bad childhood haircut immortalized in an old family album, or one too many “just one more!”s from well-meaning friends. Either way, you’d mostly given up trying to capture him on camera. He existed as some sort of cryptid, like Bigfoot or the Loch Ness Monster: either you knew him in person, or he didn’t exist at all. But that hadn’t stopped Yuji – occasional agent of chaos – from sneaking in a few shots here and there. And that’s where your favorite picture of him came from.

You remember the day it was taken vividly. 

You’d insisted on a celebratory lunch for Yuji – a reward for a particularly tough job handled with flying colors (or, in short, because he’d actually listened to Kento’s instructions). Yuji joked his way through most of the meal, poking fun at everything from Kento’s meticulous folding of his napkin to his tactical approach to his plate, eating in the order of salad, then sides, then his main course. 

It had been right after you’d done… well, you couldn’t remember exactly what, as unremarkable as it was. Maybe a bad impression of Gojo, maybe a terrible joke. But whatever it was, Kento broke, his shoulders dropping as he graced the table with a genuine, unrestrained laugh that only you seemed capable of pulling out of him. Yuji had been quick to draw, snapping the photo before either of you noticed. 

Later, Yuji sent it to you with a sly grin. “Mrs. Nanami’s gotta have the good stuff,” he’d whispered, nudging you as he tilted his phone towards you. 

You stared, speechless, your heart doing a little stammering skip. There it was – Kento, your Kento, laughing, his shoulders relaxed, the faint lines by his eyes softened by that rare brightness in his gaze as he looked at you. You couldn’t help it; you’d immediately favorited it the moment it hit your inbox, tucked it into a private album, and maybe, possibly, looked at it embarrassingly often.

A few weeks later, though not remotely forgotten to you, it remained blissfully unknown to him.

One evening as you flipped through your camera roll, Kento leaned over the back of the couch, his arm bracing himself as he studied the photos of the fancy dinner the two of you had recently gone to. You’d taken more than one, trying to capture every detail of the delicate plating at his insistence so he could try and recreate it at home.

“Do you have a close-up of that risotto?” he asked, leaning in closer, his arm casually wound around the front of your chest and his breath drifting soft feathers across your cheek. “I want to see how they plated it.”

You nodded with an affirmative hum, flipping back a few photos – only to scroll back just a bit too far and that picture fills your screen, in all of it’s HD, no-longer-secret glory.

Your heart tripped as Kento’s gaze landed on it. You felt the warmth of his presence beside you grow a bit more rigid as he examined the photo, brows raising ever so slightly.

“...That isn’t dinner,” he remarked, clearing his throat beside your ear.

“Oh! That’s, um, just a… candid,” you stumbled, trying desperately for nonchalance. “Yuji took it, and it’s a really nice picture and I don’t have many, so I just…” your efforts to play it cool are skillfully undone by the plucking of your nerves… self-imposed, of course, because Kento remains quiet.

But he was still looking at it, brows drawing together as he studied it with a rare, quiet intensity.

“You favorited it,” he murmured, eyes flicking back to you.

His voice was low, gentle, but you stewed with nervousness all the same. “Well, I mean – look at you!” you laughed, feeling shy under his gaze, like you’d been caught doing something you shouldn’t have. “The only pictures I have of you smiling are from our wedding! Let me have this–”

Kento plucked the phone from your hands and you screeched, immediately trying to claw it back. “Wait, don’t delete it!” you laughed, a cauldron of nerves and panic bubbling in your chest as he holds it just out of reach of your swiping hands, his mouth curving in that calm way it always does. You’re sure he’s about to grumble about “nonsense” or “unnecessary photos” or “living in the moment.”

But he didn’t delete it. Instead, he adjusted his glasses and held your phone closer to his face, gazing down at the screen with a gentleness that stopped your protests cold. You caught the flicker of something tender in his eyes as he studied the photo – lingering on you, the way you lean toward him, how happy you look together.

He was silent for a moment, the slightest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. Then, almost shyly, “Could you… send it to me?”

You felt your eyebrows lift to be lost in your hairline, staring at him as if he’d just asked for the moon. “You… you want me to send it?”

He nodded. “Yes. I think I’d like to keep it.”

Your heart did a little stutter, a flash of warmth rushing to your face as you quickly sent him the photo. You didn’t think your grin could get any wider – but it did as you watched him save it, his expression somewhere between fond and exasperated, like he wasn’t quite sure how he’d gotten here, holding on to a picture of himself simply because it had been yours.

The next morning, with toothbrush in hand and foam dripping down your chin, you checked your phone and blinked, frozen in the middle of a brushstroke. That picture – that picture – was staring back at you as his profile picture, right there on the one or two social media accounts he’d reluctantly made but never actually used. You barely resisted the urge to squeal.

And then, later that day, it happened again: catching the briefest flash of his phone screen across the kitchen table, you saw the photo on his lock screen too. He looked up, catching your wide-eyed staring with a soft smile, one that was just for you, and undeniably better than any picture could ever be.

[piastri-lover]

nonsense; oscar piastri

summary: in which oscar is so whipped for his singer girlfriend and fans are soft over their interactions

pairing: oscar piastri x singer!reader

author's note: loved this prompt, juding by my username i think u can tell by my user that oscar's my fave f1 driver so having an excuse to do this was so fun xx

INSTAGRAM

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, dualipa and 6294650 others yourusername been working hard in the studio lately x view comments

-

user1 ahhh so excited

user2 it's always a good day when y/n posts

oscarpiastri ❤���❤️❤️ -yourusername mwah mwah

user3 oscar is always here within seconds -user4 bro has his notifs on

user5 icl after how depressing the last album was i need some more upbeat music y/n -user6 she's dating oscar now so i'm sure it won't be like last time -user7 yeah emails i can't send ruined me

landonorris it's a bop y'all -logansargeant @/yourusername how come u let him listen and not me :((( --yourusername come round later this week and u can have a listen <3

user8 the number of f1 drivers in y/n's comments has slowly been increasing and i'm very happy about it -user9 oscar's been good for her --user8 love to see my girl happy

~~~

TWITTER

-

~~~

INSTAGRAM

oscarpiastri

tagged: yourusername liked by pierregasly, landonorris and 2137027 oscarpiastri the prettiest girl in the world released a song today, stream nonsense by y/n view comments

-

user10 no bc they're so in love wtf -user11 i need an oscar in my life tomorrow

yourusername words can't describe how much i love u -oscarpiastri the song seemed to get the message across

yourusername ily ily ily -user12 i hope oscar can fight bc i need that energy in my life

user13 no idea how random boy who drives fast cars in wonky circles pulled the actual queen -user14 the way u know neither of them are golddiggers and they genuinely love each other

user15 the romeo and juliet of our time -yourusername don't they both die at the end? --user15 yeah lol ---yourusername yeah no thanks

logansargeant love it y/n -yourusername thank u mr logan

~~~

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, pierregasly and 6193603 yourusername nonsense out now, inspired by my favourite person ever xxx view comments

-

user16 y/n come home the kids miss u

user17 can't believe my wife has a new boyfriend

oscarpiastri looking at u got me thinking nonsense -yourusername cartwheels in my stomach when u walk in --landonorris when u got ur arms around me ---logansargeant it feels so good i had to jump the octave

user18 pretty

dualipa song slaps -yourusername best friend

user19 don't know whether i want to be her or be with her -oscarpiastri be with her. trust me

user20 oscars replying to her comments boy is whipped -user21 if someone else had to date my wife i would want it to be him

~~~

TWITTER

[jamiepaige]

Constant Companions Closeup #11: MACHINE LOVE

(also on bandcamp and spotify!)

Welcome back to the Constant Companions Closeups - a series of in-depth dives into the songs off of my latest album, Constant Companions! Yesterday was the title track, My Darling, My Companion, which means today is the final track on the album - a song about the truths that lay in hiding within artifice, and a computer falling in love - Machine Love!

Before we get started on this particularly long closeup - I'll be doing a follow-up post after this one, answering various miscellaneous questions I've gotten over the course of writing these! If you've got anything you wanna hear more from me about, album-related or otherwise, feel free to reply to this post or send me an ask! It may very well end up part of the bonus closeup :~)

---

Let's circle back to the very first track, Dyad.

In that track's closeup, I mentioned the main sonic touchstones of this release relative to my previous ones being guitars and vocal synths. The whole guitar rock thing I think I've gone into detail enough about, what with all the inspirations I've rattled off in other posts, but there likely is still a burning question for some long-time listeners.

Why vocal synths? Why am I not singing on like half of this album? I thought you were a singer, Jamie Paige, so what is this Hatsune Miku robot Vocaloid crap?

Truth be told, the Vocaloid scene and community has always been a massive source of inspiration for me. So much of my favorite music ever, music that inspires me or touches my heart or makes me go apeshit, has been sung by synthesized vocalists in a language I don't even speak. I grew up with it, and it's grown up with me - music just as intricate, mind-boggling, twisted, fun, and ridiculously creative is being put out every single day by vocal synth producers, and nowadays it's coming from English speaking musicians in droves!

Before this year began, I'd made at least one major contribution to the culture, but in spite of my genuine adoration of everything vocal synth related, I felt like I was just looking in from the other side. Caught between worlds, existing outside of any communities, simply gesturing vaguely towards what I wanted to do.

But I wanted more! I wanted to make the same kinds of things that stirred my heart and made me want to write! I wanted to sing with those same voices! I wanted it to be true - to be like you!

---

I won't lie to you and tell you Kasane Teto has always been my favorite vocal synth. That title used to go to GUMI, and in general, I wasn't particularly attached to any UTAU voicebanks as a younger vocal synth fan. (Nowadays, I genuinely open up OpenUTAU just as much as SynthV because I've fallen deeply in love with Adachi Rei, but that's a story for my next album.) Obviously, I knew of Teto, and found her presence in things like Triple Baka delightful, but for the most part, she was mostly something of an oddity, a wayward piece of vocal synth history that had her Fans like any other.

However, there was one Teto song I've been inexplicably attached to since the moment I first heard it - Song of the Eared Robot, by nwp8861. I was introduced via this particular cover, which I love, but I quickly gravitated to the original. Something about the warbly, childish nature of her very first voicebank, the ambitiously orchestrated and unabashedly digital instrumental, the lyrics referencing fundamental frequencies and Markov chains and compiling code all just spoke to me!

That song stuck with me, laying in a part of my heart that had been collecting dust, all the way to April of 2023.

Now, yes, Teto wasn't always my favorite, and I had other vocal synths I was attached to, but I don't live under a rock, and I still understood how monumental the announcement of Kasane Teto's Synth V voicebank was - to the point that I interrupted a call full of FFXIV-playing friends who knew barely anything about vocal synths and gave them an impromptu TED talk because I was so excited.

(An excerpt of a summary of that night's events, written the morning after. i was up my own ass a little bit but in my defense Kasane Teto had just been announced for Synthesizer V)

I was watching, in real time, a dream made manifest. It's literally one of the Bits with Teto! That she'd be a Vocaloid one day too! And here she was, on the fan favorite engine, sounding genuinely fucking incredible. Especially in hindsight, it's such a beautiful and perfect twist of fate for her.

I saw myself in her. A weird little outcast, explosively reborn and thrust straight into a community's open arms with love. I wanted it to be true - To be like that, too.

It didn't fully hit until later, hearing another cover of a song I'd almost forgotten.

Machine Love, my love letter to the entire world of unbridled creativity and artistry surrounding vocal synths filtered through one sentimental little song, was fully written by the start of May, maybe 4 days after I had gotten my hands on Teto SV and long before a certain compilation album was even a glint in my eye.

If you haven't heard DAEMON/DOLL yet, you really, really, really should go listen to it - yes, I mastered this album, many of my friends and collaborators are featured, and I have two entire songs on it, but I genuinely mean it when I say I believe it's some of the best fucking music that's come out this year in general. In many respects, it also feels like a companion (hah) to Constant Companions.

I had finished writing Machine Love by this point, but it was working on this album in its entirety - discovering artists like Anh Duy, Eggtan, and beat_shobon through it, and hearing everyone in top form making this twin-drilled chimera fucker sing her heart out - that not only made me confident in my decision to go down this artistic path, but that made me fall completely in love with Kasane Teto. And honestly, how could I not? She feels like a microcosm of everything that makes vocal synths so special, this community of creatives all leaving their marks and touchstones along the trail of a great big shared folk mythos. Yeah, maybe the folk hero we're all collectively mythologizing is an anime girl, but yknow maybe Odysseus could take some branding cues from hatsune miku idfk

Basically, even if he says he wants to kill me, I owe fucking everything to rice for inviting me to work on DAEMON/DOLL.

---

On that note, my vision for Machine Love's MV was pretty clear from the beginning.

the actual factual setup for the above shot, which was done entirely in-camera with my laptop, a tv, and two video files manually synced using VLC

The fundamental idea was always there - live-action shots of animation playing back on various screens, edited together to feel somewhat seamless. However, I really struggled with what exactly was going to be on said screens for a while; Big commissions were very far out of my budget, but I knew this song needed something grandiose.

Ultimately, what I arrived at was exactly the kind of scrappy, DIY bullshit it was always meant to be.

I asked my Twitter mutuals for help. And spent a couple months in Final Cut Pro and Apple Motion hell turning all the Teto art I got into a bunch of tiny little mini MVs, some of them parodying real vocal synth MVs, some of simply just evocative of vocal synth MVs, all of them painstakingly edited by yours truly and filmed with the help of some friends over the next couple months across two states and many more cities just to be painstakingly edited and synced up again by yours truly.

THE NEXT MV I DO WILL BE SMALLER IN SCOPE

---

And with that, I believe that's the album!

There's a reason it ends with Machine Love, and not with the title track. I do think that in some respects My Darling, My Companion would have made a better closer, but that song only really resolves one of the thematic strands running through the album.

There isn't really a definitive answer to the specific question "Baby, do you know what you wanna hear?", but it evokes a theme running through the entire album - wanting something, knowing that you want something, and simply needing to find the courage to do it or say it or be it. My Darling, My Companion is in many ways a declaration of intent, an acceptance of what needs to happen, but Machine Love, to me, is that action being done. The words being said!

And now, if I may give this a somewhat selfish tint - with the explosive response my works from this album have gotten, my contributions to things like DAEMON/DOLL and Flavor Foley, the collaborations I've done and that I still have in the pipeline, the friends I've made and the community I've found a spot for myself in, and the newfound voices that I can lay my heart bare with -

Well, shit, I know what I wanna hear, and I've gotten to hear it. I'm a vocaloP. It's real!

Thank you all so goddamn much for reading and listening. I'll see you back here either tomorrow or Monday for the bonus AMA post thing!! Make art and be gay, motherfuckers.

❤️💚

[yeosanitycheck]

can you please write a first date with ateez members😽🥺

ofc!! i hope you like this. i tried to include a good amt of detail for each member w/o being too wordy :)

first date with ateez!

*pairing: ateez x reader

*warnings!: none, this is pure fluff

*a/n: i love doing requests sm!! im open to anything :)

Hongjoong 🌶️

art gallery and vinyl store:

Hongjoong gives off that art gallery and vinyl store vibe. He takes you to a cozy, intimate art gallery, where he’s genuinely curious about what each piece means to you. As you wander through, he leads you to an abstract painting with deep blues and warm golds, and his gaze lingers on it for a moment. Finally, he looks over at you with a curious smile, eyes sparkling with thought.

“It’s strange…” he begins, studying the piece. “This one makes me think of a dream I had—but it’s hard to put into words. It’s like the artist left us a clue.” For a moment, he’s lost in the painting and the quiet of the gallery. The evening feels weighty in the best way, and you sense he’s simply happy to share this space with you. He gestures around thoughtfully. “We should come to more galleries, you know. I think we’d get along well with the art,” he muses, voice soft but earnest.

After the gallery, he takes you to his favorite vinyl store, his face lighting up as he flips through stacks of records, each album cover like a piece of art in itself. He’s in his element. “I have to play you this one!” he says, pulling out an album with a cover of swirling colors. “It’s got this dreamy guitar that just…feels like a night drive.” He slides a record into the listening station, placing one headphone on his ear and offering you the other. “Close your eyes,” he whispers.

As the music begins, you’re immersed in a warm, dreamy atmosphere. Hongjoong sits quietly beside you, letting the sound wrap around both of you, and when the song ends, he smiles, more to himself than to anyone else. “It’s timeless,” he says, voice almost a whisper. Leaving the store, he glances at you, brushing his hand through his hair, looking thoughtful. “Next time, I’ll make you a mix of songs like that. For drives, late nights…for whatever moments we want to make ours.”

---

Seonghwa 🧚

the picnic type (outside of legos ofc):

Seonghwa strikes you as the type who appreciates quiet beauty. He takes you to a peaceful hill just outside the city, where he’s prepared a stargazing setup with cozy blankets, soft pillows, and a thermos of hot cocoa for warmth. The sun is just beginning to set as you both settle in, and he starts pointing out constellations, his voice calm under the deepening twilight.

“I wanted to find a spot where we could see the stars clearly, and where it would just be us,” he says, a subtle smile playing on his lips. He pulls out a small telescope and carefully adjusts it, pointing to a bright star. “See that? That’s Vega—one of the brightest stars,” he explains, eyes lighting up. “They say it symbolizes harmony and balance. So pretty.”

He shifts his gaze to meet yours, the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “If we could be like those stars, maybe our story would be worth telling too,” he murmurs, his eyes reflecting a bit of the starlight. Moving closer, he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his gaze so intense you can feel the warmth radiating from him. “You’re the personification of Vega, bringing balance and light…something I didn’t realize I needed,” he admits. The silence that follows is comfortable, and as he gazes at you, his voice softens, almost reverent. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of this view.”

---

Yunho ☂️

fun, amusement park kind of man!:

Yunho radiates fun and adventure, which is why he chooses the amusement park for your first date. From the moment you arrive, his excitement is infectious. His eyes gleam as he takes in the lights, rides, and sounds of laughter, and without hesitation, he grabs your hand. “Let’s do everything! The roller coaster first. Trust me, we’re about to have the best time.”

On the roller coaster, Yunho’s excitement morphs into thrill as he laughs and screams, his eyes wide with exhilaration. When you finally get off, he leans against the railing, catching his breath with a grin. “Next time, I’ll keep it cool and calm, I swear. But first…” he says, eyeing a booth with stuffed animals. “I’m winning you the biggest one here!”

Determined, he attempts the game multiple times before finally winning a massive plush dog. With a triumphant grin, he holds it up to you like a trophy. “Told you I’d get it,” he laughs, handing it over with a playful wink. As the day goes on, you ride more rides and play more games, and as the sun begins to set, he stops to take in the vibrant lights illuminating the park, a content look on his face.

“I want to remember today like this. Just us, being silly and enjoying each moment,” he says softly. After a moment, he grins, nudging you playfully. “Next time, maybe we’ll try something even more thrilling. How does skydiving sound?”

---

Yeosang🪽  

the garden boy:

As you step into the botanical garden, the colors and scents of flowers envelop you both, transforming the air into a fragrant embrace. Yeosang seems to come alive in this vibrant setting, walking slowly and soaking in every detail with a childlike wonder. He stops frequently, admiring a particular flower, his fingers brushing gently against the delicate petals as if to connect with their beauty. 

“Look at this one; it’s so vibrant. I’ve never seen such a shade of red before,” he exclaims, pulling out his phone to capture the moment with an artistic eye. He snaps photos, each shot a testament to his creativity, and then turns to you, his expression soft and thoughtful. 

“Sometimes I feel like nature can express feelings we can’t put into words. Gardens are so peaceful to me,” he muses, leaning against a nearby tree to admire you with a gentle smile. In this moment, he’s not just appreciating nature; he’s savoring your presence as if you were the most beautiful flower in the garden.

“If I could, I’d spend every day here, just us and the beauty around us… creating our own little world,” he says, the sincerity in his voice making your heart flutter. He carefully plucks a delicate flower, twirling it between his fingers before holding it out to you with a shy grin. 

“Here, something to remember today by,” he offers, his shy demeanor revealing his affection. As you walk together, the tranquility of the garden reflects in his eyes. He feels incredibly lucky to share this serene moment with you, and his admiration shines through. “This day… it feels special. The perfect moment captured in time with you,” he whispers, his love language evident in his words of affirmation and the little gestures that express his affection.

---

San🗻

Pet cafe seemed the most appropriate for him:

The moment you step into the pet cafe, San’s excitement is palpable, radiating joy as he practically skips towards the kittens and puppies. His laughter fills the air as a fluffy puppy bounds over, tail wagging furiously. He kneels down, scooping it into his arms, his face lighting up with sheer delight. 

“He’s the cutest puppy!” he exclaims, stroking the puppy’s soft fur while it licks his cheek, making you smile at the warmth in his heart. As you watch him interact with the animals, you notice how effortlessly his joy spreads to everyone around.

“You know, I’ve always believed that animals can sense good hearts. They seem to like you a lot… just like I do,” he says, glancing at you with genuine warmth. It’s a sweet reminder of the connection you both share, and his words are laced with sincerity, affirming your place somewhere in his mind and heart. 

As you both move to a corner filled with treats, he holds a tiny biscuit out for a waiting puppy. “Woo, this is your moment to shine!” he laughs as the puppy eagerly takes the treat from his hand. Watching him share his joy with the animals, you can’t help but admire how he brings out the best in everyone.

“I could spend all day here with you and these little animals. You guys just make the day more worth it,” he says, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as you both settle on the floor, surrounded by playful furballs. 

---

Mingi🩰

Nighttime vibes—def an outdoor movie type:

Mingi leads you to a local park where an outdoor movie is screening classic films. He sets up a cozy spot on the grass with blankets and snacks, the anticipation buzzing in the air as you settle in together. Leaning back on his hands, he intertwines his fingers with yours, his playful eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Alright! Let’s see how bad this movie really is. Couldn’t do a scary one for obvious reasons,” he quips, the sound of his laughter blending with the chirping of crickets. As the film begins, he leans closer, whispering witty commentary and shaking his head dramatically whenever a character makes a ridiculous decision.

“Did they really think that was a good idea? Who jumps into a dark alley like that? I mean, I would definitely jump in if you were there, but that’s beside the point,” he jokes, his words laced with affection as he playfully nudges you. Each laugh shared draws you closer, creating a tapestry of moments that feels magical.

When the film ends, he pulls you into a quieter area of the park, where the rustling leaves and distant laughter create a serene backdrop. The moonlight casts a gentle glow on his face as he glances at you, longing evident in his eyes. “You know, I really like this. Just sharing our thoughts and debating silly stuff… it’s perfect to me,” he admits, his vulnerability showing as he leans in closer, his forehead resting against yours.

This moment feels timeless, and as he pulls you in for a soft kiss under the stars, you know this is just the beginning of something beautiful.

---

Wooyoung👹 

Man loves to cook—cooking class!:

You and Wooyoung arrive at a bustling cooking studio, the delicious aroma of fresh herbs and sizzling garlic enveloping you both. He rolls up his sleeves with enthusiasm, helping you tie your apron while shooting you a cheeky grin. 

“I’m winning over your taste buds tonight,” he declares, confidence radiating from him as he dives into the cooking process. As the instructor guides you through each step, Wooyoung can’t resist adding his own flair, chopping ingredients with exaggerated precision, and shooting playful winks whenever he catches your eye.

When he accidentally adds a bit too much chili to the sauce, he winces but laughs it off. “I hope you like a little heat. You’ll just have to handle the spice,” he teases, the playful banter making your heart race. As you taste your creations, he leans in, watching your reaction with eager anticipation.

“Good, right?! I’m thinking about starting my own restaurant. You could be my official taste tester,” he grins, and you can’t help but smile at the thought. His passion for cooking and your presence fuels his excitement, creating a bond that feels warm and genuine.

As the class winds down, he wraps his arm around your shoulders, a satisfied smile on his face. “Tonight was perfect, and next time, I’m making you my special dessert. No recipe needed!” His words echo with promise.

---

Jongho🧸  

He’s built, likes activity—rock climbing: 

Jongho takes you to an indoor rock climbing gym, where excitement dances in the air. As he gears up, his eyes sparkle with enthusiasm. He hands you a harness, carefully helping with the buckles and straps, his warm touch sending a delightful shiver down your spine. “Think you’re ready for this? I’ll go easy on you… maybe,” he teases, a playful smile gracing his lips.

As he starts climbing with natural ease, he glances back to offer advice, his calm confidence a reassuring presence. When you hesitate on a difficult spot, he looks down at you, his smile unwavering. “Just take your time. Find your balance… trust yourself,” he encourages, his voice steady and filled with belief in your abilities.

When you finally reach the top, his approving smile lights up the room, and he gives you a soft high five, pride shining in his gaze. “Feels good to push the limits with you! It’s freeing,” he says, sitting beside you as you both take in the breathtaking view. The city lights twinkle below, mirroring the spark in his eyes.

As you catch your breath, he watches you with admiration. “You did great. Next time, let’s try the real thing. There’s a spot outside the city I think you’d love,” he suggests, his eagerness palpable. The promise of future adventures together makes your heart flutter, knowing that every challenge you face will only bring you closer.

--- 

[dreamlifebunny]

manifestation ideas: revising the past

revision is a beautiful, life-affirming part of the law of assumption that reminds us that nothing is to be feared, because everything is changeable at all times. i ignored revision for so long in the beginning of my loass journey because i was afraid it was "too illogical" (classic), but after testing it last year it became one of the most healing things i've ever done for myself! you can find posts on revision all over tumblr, reddit, and most importantly, in this reading by neville. (let it be known that this post references bullying and abuse if you'd rather skip this - keep yourself safe!)

you can revise that you never watched your favourite tv/movies, read your favourite books, or listened to your favourite albums so that you get to experience them all over again for the first time!

nobody remembers any embarrassing or cringey moments that you have had (because they didn't happen!) or better yet, any of these moments have been revised to be happy and fun moments.

any former rejections have been revised; job offers, school offers, grants and applications have now all been accepted!

your family has been revised to be your absolute dream family; full of love, abundance, fun family adventures, togetherness and connection, support, and kindness. you can also revise your past so that you've always had younger or older siblings, if you grew up an only child and wanted siblings.

former bullies from school or work have come back to genuinely apologize for the hurt that they have brought you and offer reconciliation in whatever way you desire, whether that is publicly; in front of your school/colleagues, in a heartfelt letter expressing their regret, with an insane e-transfer of money (hehe), or any other desired way. either way, you get to see the regret that they feel and know that they have changed and wish they never hurt you (you can do this with abusers as well, if you feel comfortable with it - you never have to see those people again if you'd prefer they don't contact you to apologize, or you can revise it so that you never met them or never experienced them that way)

your loved one's pains or hurts can be revised so that they never happened.

you can revise your memories so that you have always experienced your family and loved ones in positive ways, or you can make it so that you remember the past and now get to experience the beautiful present!

didn't like the way a show or film ended? revise the ending so that your dream conclusion happened!

you can revise that your SP has been in love with you from the start!

your previous manifestation attempts that "failed" have been revised so that your desires came true, and your previous void state attempts that "failed" have been revised so that you already entered the void, and can now enter at any time!

[withacapitalp]

All this was inspired by listening to She’s So Overrated by Madilyn Bailey so fair warning LMAO. Also this got SO MUCH LONGER THAN I MEANT IT TO IM SORRY IT WAS JUST ME WRITING DOWN AN IDEA......

Okay so I’m having thoughts about modern AU lead singer Eddie Munson who’s been in the industry for years with the boys. Corroded Coffin is a staple of the metal industry, but for a few years he’s been feeling really stalled in his career and just stuck in place. He’s still making music, still performing, but he feels like he’s getting farther and farther from that kid who used to scream and sing in his closet bedroom in the shoebox apartment he used to share with Wayne. 

So when he and the boys are in an interview and the interviewee brings up how “King” Steve Harrington from The Four is trying to reinvent himself with the help of former bandmate Robin Buckley, Eddie goes off. He works himself up into a little tizzy, ranting Munson Doctrine style about how a former teen pop star trying to become some second rate folk singer isn’t anything special, and that he wouldn’t be caught dead cashing in like that. 

That Steve’s music is bad (even though he’s honestly never listened to it) and “King” Steve is overrated. How even Beiber is better than him. He’s just bullshit. 

Of course the interview goes viral, and finds its way to Steve and Robin. Robin listens to it first and she doesn’t want Steve to watch it. She knows how close things like this cut him (especially that word), and how he’s been dealing with a lot of hate from everyone even from former fans who are confused by the sharp contrast of his new music- aka the music he’s finally being allowed to write now that he’s broken away from his momager- but Steve makes her show him. 

She’s sure that she’s going to have to spend the next week rebuilding his confidence. 

And instead, Steve’s lip curls into a smile, and he grabs his songbook, telling her to find her guitar. 

Eddie wakes up five days after the interview to a huge flood of social media notifications, a dozen missed calls from the boys and his manager and his uncle. He ignores them all and goes to see what he fucked up this time. 

Eddie opens Youtube and it’s at the top of his recommendations. The thumbnail is Steve and Robin sitting together with a guitar in her lap. The title of the video is just one word. 

Bullshit. 

This can’t be good. 

Eddie listens to it even though he doesn’t want to. He’s a lot of things, but he’s not a coward. Not anymore. He listens to it because he has to know how much he’s fucked up. 

And then he listens to it again. And again. And again. 

It gets stuck in his head. All of it. Not just the song (which admittedly is pretty killer) but also hearing the flippantly mean words he had casually thrown at Steve being shoved back in his face. He had seen Steve as an abstract thing, just a symbol of everything wrong with the industry, not a real person. And now this actual human being that he’s hearing has turned all of that garbage into a song that feels more genuine then most of the music on the last two albums he wrote himself. A song that has heart, joy, and a strong current of pain underneath, especially in the bridge where Steve just sings the word bullshit over and over. 

There’s even more than that. He also sees the way Robin and Steve interact while they’re working the smiles, the jabs, the silly little way Steve bobs his head along as he listens to her play, the way they both collapse into giggles at the end as Steve directly quotes the part of the interview where Eddie said that Steve “is just another laundry basket devil trying to act like a big shot now that he’s too old for teen girls to moon over.” 

He can’t remember the last time he and the boys had that much fun making a song. 

Hell, Eddie even sees their apartment. It’s a pretty nondescript room, but he can see the wear and tear on the furniture, the cobwebs in the corners of the room, the slightly drooping houseplant with the name “Dart” lovingly painted on its pot. It feels like a home, and as Eddie looks around at the bedroom in his far too big mansion, he feels even more like a fraud. 

Eddie listens to the song on repeat for most of the morning. In the afternoon he finally answers everyone, and starts to put his plan into motion. 

By that evening he’s on the phone with Steve asking him and Robin to help Corroded Coffin write their next song. 

[storiesabouteli]

Misconnection. // Noel Gallagher X Reader.

prompt: (contains smut in a succinct form, it is not a predominant attraction) in which two people find comfort in each other after dysfunctional relationships and realize together what is best for them individually. it was heavily inspired by lost in translation.

words: 5.6K

Noel noticed you quickly.

His room was across the hallway, and over the past few weeks, he had assumed you were alone in the city. Every time he made noise with his guitar or tried to work through something, you would either crack your door open slightly or casually stand in the corridor. You didn’t seem to be hiding, but you also didn’t make yourself too easy to see.

One night, he considered stepping out to talk to you, but the moment he opened his door, you had already disappeared into the elevator.

You exchanged polite smiles in the lobby. It wasn’t flirting—it was more of a silent acknowledgment that you both saw each other. You knew that he knew you listened to him sing and that you liked it. But maybe you weren’t quite aligned enough to join in just yet.

"Everythin' alrigh' there?" Noel asked, forcing a smile—one that, unbeknownst to him, wasn’t exactly natural.

He had noticed the ring on your finger before, but now, up close, as you hugged a box of macarons, it seemed to hold more weight. It reminded him of when he was younger, in his first marriage, believing that decision was for life. Though he had no regrets and had managed to keep things amicable, he appreciated how, over the years, it had become just another detail in the long stretch of his life. It also made him think that, even now, with a ring still on his own finger, things would be alright soon enough.

"I'm sorry, I didn’t mean to stay here—I really am sorry."

Your rushed apology made him laugh, this time far more genuinely than before. You were wrapped in a large sweater and loose-fitting pants, looking completely at ease. Your face carried a hint of exhaustion, the darkness beneath your eyes more pronounced. Standing there in front of him, studying him with quiet curiosity, you looked undeniably endearing. He couldn’t deny he had thought that from the very first time he saw you.

"Did y’come t’listen t’me?"

Scratching the back of his neck, he realized how odd that sounded. His cheeks were certainly tinged with color, but you only gave him a shy smile and nodded.

There was something about the moment that was hard to put into words, yet it all felt so natural. The way you stepped into the spacious room, took a seat at one end of the couch and made it easy for him to grab one of the macarons and take a bite. You stuffed your hands into your pockets to keep them warm. You were fun to watch.

He didn’t play for you, but the two of you ended up listening to random albums together, discovering a shared taste in music. The conversation stayed light, shifting from the weather to how the city felt during tourist season, to how the newspaper vendor beside the hotel was surprisingly friendly. (Your fiancé would have never given importance to that detail, and you made a mental note of it.)

"Does yer ring go on t’other hand?"

His fingers brushed against yours, sending a pulse of electricity through your body like a reflex. His skin was rough yet delicate as he turned the pearl between his fingertips for a few seconds. You wished his curiosity was about you and not just the correct placement of an engagement ring. Maybe you had wanted to be noticed by him from the start, back when you first saw him play at that crowded pub nearby.

"I’m not married yet. It’s a tradition for some—an engagement ring goes on the right hand, and only on the wedding day does it move to the left."

He listened intently, and you couldn't remember the last time you shared that without feeling ridiculous.

"So… is this a dream o' yours?"

Your eyebrows lifted slightly, and he found it endearing how you handled words, as if everything he said carried a weight of its own.

"Getting married?"

He laughed.

"I mean, yeah, but… everythin’ ‘bout it seems special t’you. The tradition, the way ya smile while talkin’ ‘bout it. Feels like ya planned this, thought ‘bout it for ages."

You swallowed hard. Something so simple, and yet he figured it out just by exchanging a few sentences with you. You ran your fingers around the ring, turning it slowly.

"Yeah, I guess so. I like the idea of being in love, but I wouldn’t even know about the ring placement if it weren’t for this newlywed woman who once came into the café where I worked. She was so happy—it made me want that for myself, even while being happy for her."

He smiled, a small, knowing expression that softened the lines on his face. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. His presence alone made you feel heard.

"The ring ‘e chose is proper beautiful. Hope you’ll be dead happy."

You slipped your hands back into your pockets, not wanting him to see it anymore. The ring had been your choice, and honestly, if you hadn’t had that conversation with your fiancé about your years together and what the future held, you weren’t sure if it would even be on your finger right now. But there was nothing to complain about—wasn’t this what you wanted?

Noel noticed the flicker in your eyes and cut in.

"Well, Ah’m gettin’ divorced."

He held up his own ring, relieved when your gaze met his again.

"Why?"

Your voice was quiet, but there was a certain ease in the way you asked, making it clear the question wasn’t intrusive.

"Feel like… if it weren’t for ‘er, I’d still be with ‘er, y’know?"

It was a force of habit, and Noel reminded himself that, given your age, you probably hadn’t even lived half of what he had.

"She got tired, li'ul by li'ul. Ah-I was around, but it weren’t enough."

You nodded. His expression was tired, but not necessarily sad.

"Did you try to win her back? You didn’t do anything wrong, did you?"

He chuckled at your tone before continuing.

"I tried. She 'ad someone else in mind. I don’t miss 'er, but I miss the life 'round 'er. We were together for over twenty years."

You looked at him with warmth, and he accepted it.

You couldn’t quite grasp what it meant to be with someone for that long—an amount of time that was, in some ways, close to your own lifetime. You didn’t know what to say, but you understood why he still wore the ring.

"I’m sorry."

He simply gave you the same gentle smile as before.

Your arms brushed, something comfortable, and you let it happen. Neither of you knew where the line between safe and dangerous was, but this moment was cautious, measured.

"Are you always at the hotel? Never go out?"

His laugh was slightly nasal, soothing in its own way.

"Ah-I came t’record some tunes. Use me time ‘ere t’relax, rehearse a bit, an’ make some tweaks before headin’ off somewhere."

Your hands slipped back out of your pockets, and he took that as a sign that you were at ease.

"Did you write about her?"

He nodded.

"Loads. Don’t think ‘bout ‘er the same way no more, but she were, uh, was, a big part o’ me life. There’s loads o’ ‘er in the tunes."

"Do you regret it?"

He studied your eyes, trying to decipher what the question meant to you, but he couldn’t quite tell.

"Nah. It were a good part o’ me life, even if we ain’t together no more."

You licked your lips absentmindedly.

"I wish someone wrote songs 'bout me. It seems very romantic."

He exhaled sharply through his nose, realizing he hadn’t felt this kind of nervousness—the kind that made you hold your breath before speaking—in a long time.

"What’s the most romantic thing he’s done for you?"

Your gaze dropped to the floor. A brief silence, but noticeable. Your hands returned to your pockets.

"We planned this trip about nine months ago. He was supposed to come with me, but there was a work emergency—it happens a lot."

Your voice was calm, free of bitterness, but there was something tired in it—something that sounded like an ending.

…

The silence lingered, broken only by the sound of breathing and the room’s ventilation. You felt good, even with the weight in your chest. It was the lightest you had felt since the proposal.

After a while, Noel rested his cheek on your shoulder, his eyes closed, his mouth slightly open. He looked peaceful, but you didn’t know that he hadn’t been sleeping well lately. That was a reaction to you. That feeling of warmth and being seen—it was mutual.

Your fingers traced the bridge of his nose, then moved to his hair, almost more gray than dark now. You found him beautiful, but there was a distance to that feeling, something that kept it from fully taking shape.

His scent had already settled into your clothes, and you knew that if you stayed, you’d finally get the kind of sleep you hadn’t had in a long time. But recognizing this moment as a dangerous threshold, you chose to leave.

…

Daylight had already started to seep in, and Noel felt the emptiness in his chest, knowing you were no longer there. Maybe you’d come back the next time he played.

He thought about going downstairs for breakfast, but instead, let the weight of exhaustion dissolve him bit by bit. If not for the soft knocking at his door, he might have spent the entire day in the same position.

Annoyance flared at being pulled from bed, but it faded the second he saw you standing there. His fingers curled into a tense fist—he recognized that feeling. He had liked you enough for your pain to drain any energy from him.

Your mouth opened, but nothing came out. Your eyes didn’t meet his. They were distant, lost somewhere in the room, drowned in tears. You were still wearing the same clothes, except now just a tank top. It was clear you had been crying and restless for hours, and he hated that you hadn’t come to him sooner—as if he could’ve made it all go away.

"Come 'ere, love," he murmured, opening his arms. You folded into him instantly.

That familiar scent wrapped around you again, his fingers pressing into your back as he pulled you inside. He thought he knew what it was about, even if not entirely.

You left a small damp spot on his shirt, but he kept holding you close. It wasn’t a desperate kind of crying, which somehow made it worse.

The bed was low, and when he set you down and knelt in front of you, it left you at just the right height to hide your face against him. His hands moved along your back, his chin resting on top of your head, while your fingers clutched the fabric of his shirt. The small gestures grounded you, bringing you back to reality.

“I called him,” you sniffled, pulling back just enough to see him.

His hand rested lightly at your waist, keeping you close in a way that didn’t feel improper, especially with your fingers still playing with the buttons of his shirt. He waited patiently for you to continue, and that was something you liked about him—he didn’t ask out of curiosity, he just wanted you to speak if you wanted to.

“He’s not coming back here. He’s too busy. Said he can see me when I get home,” you paused, swallowing a bit.

Noel watched you carefully, not with pity but with an understanding you weren’t used to anymore. His eyes calmed you. He was wearing a long-sleeved button-up, the collar open enough that a hint of chest hair peeked out. He wiped your face with the edge of the fabric, showing you, without words, that he was here.

“I didn’t enjoy any of this trip 'cause I kept waitin' for him to be here, y’see? I thought things would be different. I don’t want it to always be like this. I don’t want this for myself.”

Your shoulders loosened, and to him, your face looked lighter, like speaking was helping you make sense of it all.

"Y’ve talked t’ ‘im ‘bout this loads, ain’t ya?" He asked, remembering you saying it was a recurring problem.

You nodded. “Yeah. My whole last year has been about this.”

Your eyes dropped, hesitant to admit you had let yourself get into this situation. He brushed your hair away, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze.

"Ah’m not gonna judge ya. But ‘e don’t seem like someone t’take serious, if I can say that. Why’d he wanna marry someone ‘e don’t even listen to?"

Hearing it out loud, from someone else, made it sound so simple.

“Do you think he’s marrying me out of convenience?” you asked, your voice quiet as your hand slipped from his shirt.

You were exhausted. As you looked at him, Noel gave a small, sweet smile. You settled into the bed beside him, the scent of his sheets huggable. When you moved to get up, he simply touched your arm and told you it was okay. You already knew the answer to your question.

"D’ya think ‘e loves ya?" his voice was low, steady. “D'ya love him?”

All you could hear was his breathing.

“When did you realize you didn’t love your ex-wife anymore?” you asked.

He lay down too, just an arm’s length away. When he turned onto his side, he was all that filled your vision.

“Dunno,” he admitted. “I think it faded lil' by little as I realized she didn’t feel the same no more—and didn’t care to show interest. But every situation is different.”

Noel found himself hoping you’d see that maybe this wasn’t the man for you. But he also had to remember he was not, and would never be, someone in your life.

He touched your face, more for himself than for you, and you closed your eyes, letting it happen. His fingers traced along your cheek, then moved to massage your shoulders.

“I don’t know if I love him,” you murmured. “I don’t know if I believe his words, either. He always says he’ll try harder, but it always ends up the same way I’ve come to hate. His indifference makes me want to be alone, and I don’t think he would’ve proposed if I hadn’t confronted him about it. Maybe marrying me never even crossed his mind. I don’t want to be someone’s uncertainty.”

The words came easily, revealing that you had thought about this more than you wanted to admit.

Noel squeezed you, a bit content that you could see things for what they were. You were still young, and you had time. You still had your chances.

“Don’t let your kids grow up to be bad people to others,” you whispered, pressing your cheek to his shoulder.

He didn’t mind. He liked having you close.

“I won’t,” he murmured, and for a moment, you were struck by the weight of the fact that he was more than old enough to have kids. That was something you didn’t want to think about.

…

Your back didn’t feel as heavy as before. Your face was pressed into the sheets, arms wrapped around one of his pillows. His scent—woody, warm—filled the entire room. It was nice.

Your body still carried the lazy memory of being close to his, of drifting off in the middle of the night with his lips pressing against your forehead and his arm firm around your waist, like he was afraid he’d leave you behind if he let go.

"Ow’re ya, li’ul one?"

His voice was smooth. He had changed clothes—still wearing buttons, still a pleasant sight. His hair was damp, and he was jotting something down in a small notebook.

“Good,” you murmured sleepily.

He laughed, glancing at you, and whatever he was writing became secondary now that your voice had settled into the room. It was intimate—bearable, even.

“Wot d'you do?” Noel asked, cautious. He was sure knowing too much about you wouldn’t do him any good, but it was impossible to resist. “You mentioned the café, but said you’re no longer there...”

“I work at a bookstore,” you said, staring at the ceiling.

You could hear the sound of his fingers skimming across the pages, and even without looking, you could picture the shape of his hands perfectly—the wedding band, the red-stoned ring.

When you rubbed a hand over your face and looked back at him, he was watching you, his gaze soft. He had noticed—your engagement ring was no longer there. It hadn’t been since the moment you decided to come to him.

“I’m a pianist,” you said, voice steady. “I’m trying to get a spot at a theater in London. I’m really excited about it. Anxious, but waiting on the results.”

He smiled, genuinely. “I’d love to 'ear you play. I bet you’re dead good. I’ll save a seat next time I'm in London.”

He took a moment before saying it, wanting to be honest without making you uncomfortable.

You smiled back, a mirror of his own expression.

Noel briefly considered suggesting you work on something together but held back. He also couldn’t remember the last time he had felt truly drawn to a woman.

You kept watching him—the roundness of his cheeks, the way his fingers moved as he worked.

He was a stranger. He shouldn’t have this much of an effect on you.

…

You had put on one of your new dresses—fitted at the waist, flowing just enough. You liked how it looked on you, how it made you feel confident. It was one of the pieces you had carefully chosen for this trip, for the dates you were supposed to have with your fiancé, who, theoretically, should have been with you.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, you stared at the hotel phone. Your fingers were cold. You had been ready for a while now, wanting to visit a café you’d spotted nearby. You were determined to go home and at least be able to say you had experienced something of this place.

But suddenly, your fear wasn’t about missing out on seeing the neighborhood anymore—it was about missing him, about not getting to be with him in the short time left before you had to leave.

"Ah can ‘ear ya breathin’, but we can stay quiet if y’ prefer."

His voice came through the receiver, confident, amused.

You twisted the cord between your fingers, unsurprised that he recognized you without you having said a single word. Somehow, you knew you would have recognized him, too.

His breathing filled the silence between you, steady and calm, making your thoughts settle. He understood this—the simple need to be close.

“I’m going to visit a café nearby. Want to come?”

You probably sounded like a stalker, but Noel had to admit to himself that he had considered asking someone at the hotel for your number. The thought of you having to craft a story convincing enough for them to connect you to his room amused him.

"Alright, Ah’ll grab a jacket an’ meet ya downstairs, li’ul one."

You straightened up as soon as you saw him, a smile tugging at your lips. He looked relaxed, his usual furrowed brow still faintly marked, eyes focused ahead—until they found you. Your heart warmed a little when his expression softened, when his lips curled into a small smile that smoothed out the lines on his face.

You wished you could take him home with you. Maybe no one would even notice.

His gaze traveled over you—not in a way that made you self-conscious, but in a way that felt good.

"Is this wot takin' off a ring does?" he murmured, and you felt your cheeks burn.

He took your hand in his, and you noticed his wedding band was gone too. Then, with an easy motion, he made you twirl in front of him. When you stopped, his eyes hadn’t drifted far—they remained on your smile.

And so, the first steps were taken with the careful distance of two people still pretending they weren’t walking towards something. He kept his hands behind his back, and you found yourself a little too nervous to speak or gesture much. But it didn’t take long before your arms brushed, and his hand found a comfortable place on your back, guiding you along with him.

"Isn’t pumpkin supposed to be a vegetable?" he frowned at the orange hue of your drink, his voice laced with quiet skepticism.

He had ordered nothing but black coffee, refusing even a small cake.

"It is," you shrugged, taking a sip. "But it works in drinks. And desserts."

You nudged the cup toward him, inviting him to try.

He was dressed in black as usual, his hair a little longer, giving it a soft volume at the top. He was attractive—undeniably so. And knowing he had spent over twenty years with someone by his side made you believe he must be a good person to have around.

Sitting across from him, avoiding him was impossible.

He took a hesitant sip, pretending to deliberate.

"You liked it," you teased. "Not as much of a grumpy old man as you wish you were."

He let out a low, unguarded laugh, and you liked being the reason for it.

"It tastes like dessert. Too sweet," he admitted.

You nodded in understanding, and he pushed his own cup toward you—black coffee.

You had never been fond of it, but you hesitated, curiosity getting the better of you.

The bitterness hit instantly. You had taken too big a sip, and your eyes watered in protest.

Noel regretted it immediately, which only made you laugh as he rushed to pour you a glass of water and snatched his cup away from you.

"No wonder you only wear black and walk around looking permanently annoyed," you teased, watching as amusement flickered in his eyes.

He liked everything about you—how effortlessly you spoke to him, how you weren’t trying to make him think you were someone good.

"Ya look proper stunnin'," he murmured, brushing a napkin against your chin to wipe away brownie crumbs.

It felt right to say it, though he should have said it earlier.

Your eyes flickered away, unable to meet his directly. Instead, you cut the brownie in half, offering him a piece.

"Eat. We’re trying more of these."

He nodded, knowing he had endured worse things in life than indulging in a few sweets for a girl. 

…

You were wrapped in one of his button-up shirts, loose and comfortable around you. There had been no need for words—just a quiet, mutual agreement that you would stay. Your hair was tied back, still damp from a shower, and he found you just as endearing as ever.

There was no hesitation when he sat beside you, close enough that the small couch felt even smaller. His hand ran over your arms, then down your back, and soon your head rested against his chest, as if it had always belonged there. He pressed a kiss to your hairline, his body unwinding as your arms curled around him.

A few days ago, Noel had been uneasy about what was ahead—unsure, directionless. But now, all he could think about was tomorrow, and the fact that he would get to talk to you again. You made him see past all of it. Two divorces weren’t the end of the world, though they had left him exhausted just thinking about them.

Your fingers trailed up his chest, finding the collar of his shirt and twisting the fabric idly. Your scent was starting to settle into him, a quiet imprint. Your palm found warmth against his skin, fingers playing absently with the fine hairs there.

He brushed your hair back, taking in the peaceful way your eyes remained closed. And for the first time in a while, he felt the same.

"Y'alright?" he murmured.

Your gaze lifted to his, wide and searching, and you nodded. He kissed your cheek, and when you sighed in quiet satisfaction, he did it again—dragging his nose along your skin, leaving lingering kisses along the path.

The faint stubble on his jaw scraped against you in a way that was more pleasant than not. And when he finally pulled back, you were still smiling at him, calm and close.

Too close.

He realized it at the same time you did, and he started to move away. But your fingers found the back of his neck, keeping him with you. The furrow in his brow deepened, and you pressed soft kisses there until it smoothed out again.

"You’re probably never going to see me again."

You had thought about saying more but left it at that. There was nothing else that needed to be said. You both understood this wasn’t something that could work. He had a life, a country, children, a career that had nothing to do with the world you lived in. He might even go back to his ex-wife. And you—maybe you weren’t ready to give up on marriage as an idea.

It was complicated. You both knew that.

His fingers curled into the fabric of your shirt, and before you could say anything else, he pulled you in for a kiss.

His nose brushed your cheek, his lips soft, the warmth of him seeping into your lungs. His hand cradled the back of your neck, fingers threading through your hair, holding you there—not in urgency, but in something slower, something indulgent.

Something that felt like exactly what you both needed.

 His fist closed in your hair, pulling firmly to give him more space to go deeper. Your chest felt heavier, your breathing more desperate, your hands gripped his arms, between fabric and flesh, hoping that this would be enough of a sign for him not to stop. The kisses went down to your neck, spreading to your collarbone. He was so gentle, his fingers traced over your skin as if pressing too hard might shatter you, as if the wrong touch could make you slip right through his hands. 

 You held on tighter to him, and his nimble hands on your waist guided you closer. His thigh between your legs, your body pressed against his, he trailed his lips down your shoulder, your arms, every visible point of skin. Your thighs flexed against his in response, and soon your face grew hot, even though you could feel his jeans against your skin and your body was melting into him with no much shame.

 Noticing you pausing, he pulled back slightly, his tongue wetting his lips as he let his back rest against the couch. His thumb traced slow circles on your waist, his gaze darker as it settled on you–this was good.

 He squeezed your waist a little tighter, and you saw encouragement in it.

 He tensed the muscle in his thigh, adding more to it. Your fingers tightened around him, tighter than before, and you wrapped your legs around him, letting out a pleasant sigh. He bit his lip, his gray hair falling a bit over his forehead, sweaty. In a slightly more abrupt movement, you could feel your raw skin brushing against his jeans, making your sigh louder and your head fall onto his shoulder.

 "Ah've got ya, princess." He comforted you, his rough, thick hands running up your thighs, rising ever so slightly, until he held the hem of your shirt and pulled it up over your hips. His lips were at your ear, he whispered how good of a girl you were. He moved the fabric out of the way, digging it into his fingers along with the strength with which he held your waist and made the movement for you.

 Your knees ached from the friction, but you were so wet that the contact with his jeans still allowed a muffled, wet sound through the silent room. You could hear his gasps, with each time your body moved forward and slowly back, as he controlled it. Sometimes the rhythm allowed you to feel how hard he was getting, and you had to admit it looked painful. He went back to kissing your shoulder, while you bit his, leaving his shirt damp, every now and then he pressed his fingers tightly into you and you wished you had his marks on your skin later. 

 Your body was starting to tremble, the spasms in your hips were no longer as controlled, your face and chest completely immersed in his body as he held you steady. Everything was slow, calculated by him, so that every second would take longer and he would have more time with you. He stood up, your arms and legs joining him like a puzzle piece, and delicately he placed your back on the bed. 

 You held him close, his weight on you was moderate—comforting. He looked at you with desire, but also as if he appreciated you being there, as if you weren’t going anywhere and had more to give. You thought of him as more than just this moment, so it felt mutual. His gaze made you feel attractive, even like this—messy hair, wearing clothes that weren’t even yours.

"I wish you were my age."

The melancholy in your voice made him shake his head immediately.

"Ya would’ve 'ated me at your age. Ah was annoyin', drank too much, 'nd took my worries out on other people."

You shifted him, considering how this—whatever it was—was all you had. There were no "what ifs." He kept his leg between yours, the closeness a quiet reminder that he was here.

He moved briefly, and you traced a line from his chest to the mark you had left on his jeans with your eyes. His thick thighs made you imagine other things too. He opened his shirt wider, you bit your lip and he chuckled lightly. You could feel the elastic of your panties a bit out of its place and that was a good reminder of minutes ago.

He lifted your shirt again, kissing your knees and thighs, taking his caresses to your belly. Your eyes closed with the texture of his mature skin brushing where you were sensitive and then his nose lightly tapping the spot. He kissed you cautiously over the fabric and his eyes went up to you, his expression relaxed, as if he thought about being between your legs often and he whispered, "Is it alrigh’ if Ah-I carry on??" and all you felt was your heart bursting and your wetness like never before.

…

He didn’t hesitate to take you to the airport. Things were heavy, though there was an air of hope between you—not because there was any chance of being together, but because you saw things differently now.

You couldn’t bring yourself to touch him. You were too close, close enough to hold his gaze, but if you reached for him, it would break you.

"Y'know, I’ll come see ya when ya play at the London Theatre."

He touched your arms, pulling you into him. Your vision blurred slightly.

"I don’t even know when that’ll be, and you’ve never seen me play, so you can’t say that." You joked, unsure how to take it.

"Ya saw summat was off, like with your relationship, an’ handled it right. Yer workin’ outside yer field ‘cos ya believe in it. Yer determined—don’t seem the type t’ hesitate. If not now, then one day, you’ll get there. Ah believe in ya."

You inhaled sharply, the tears never making it down your cheeks because he wiped them away first. His eyes were watery too. It made you realize how little you had accepted in past relationships.

Your fiancé once mentioned how important a stable job was—you had seen it as a valid concern, but he had always seemed to hate having an old piano taking up space in the living room.

"You won’t remember me," you murmured.

He shook his head, making that small sound with his mouth that told you to be quiet.

"Ah-I will. I feel relieved that I got to talk to ya these past few days."

He wiped your face, watching as you tried to steady yourself, though your hands were trembling.

"'nd I need to see ya play."

You laughed.

He told you he’d be in Tokyo for a while, dealing with record label matters. You told him you’d be going back to North America. He lived in England—far from you. Your mind tried to map out the distance as something manageable, but the truth was neither of you would fit into each other’s lives. He wasn’t going to get married again, and you couldn’t handle the fact that he already had a family.

It was hard, but there wasn’t much to discuss. There was no space for bitterness.

"Ah brought ya summat." his voice echoed in your mind as he kissed you right there, in front of everyone. It was slow, your fingers tangled in his hair, grazing through the gray strands. You needed a moment before facing his flushed lips and reddened nose. Your lungs felt empty.

You couldn’t look at him when you said goodbye.

All you had was the plastic bag he had given you, filled with the same macarons from when you first spoke to him, with revived dreams, and a cassette tape with your name on it—signed by him, with the words "For the good memories."

It was cliché, but it was him, you felt loved.

[cloudyskydreams]

Hello, could you do a one shot of Sans looking Reader's photo album when she was little?

This is so cute 🥺 you absolutely can, Thanks so much for requesting sorry it took me a bit to get to it! I had a lot of fun with this one even though it was a struggle to find motivation! I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I did!

You had convinced Sans to do a bit of spring cleaning, it was mostly you doing a majority of the work and him being your emotional support but he did help a a little bit.

While cleaning out your closet you had come upon a box of your old things and of course got distracted going through it. You were having a good time going through all of your little keepsakes from over the years and the stories that went along with them until you struck gold at the very bottom of the box. An old photo album you had been gifted a few years ago filled to the brim with photos of you as a tiny tot and a camera full of home videos. You squeal in excitement as you head over to the bed.

"Sans, look at this!" He looks at what you have in your hands and his grin grows.

"im booking babe, what is it?"

You throw open the cover and the first page is filled with baby photos, there's one of you in a cute little inside and one with you and your favorite stuffed animal. "A photo album!" You cheer and sit next to him setting the book in between you.

Sans looks down intrigued by the photos in front of him and his eyelights expand slightly upon taking on the sight of baby you.

"so small..." He says softly as he looks over the photos. You flip the page and there's a few of you as a baby dressed up in different outfits and mostly with family.

The first photo in the page is of you still in the hospital "This is right after I was born!" You say happily showing him and his eyelights almost fill his sockets as he stares at the photo.

"are all human children that small when first born?" he asks and you're surprised he didn't pun then again he sounds genuinely curious.

"Yup we're all pretty small, and weak too can't even lift our heads up at first gotta be gentle with babies." You giggle.

"makes sense thanks for the heads up babe." His grin widens and you groan playfully before returning your attention to the photo album in front of you.

"Oh! This one's from when I lost my first tooth!" You point to the photo and then launch into an explanation over how you had lost said tooth. Sans listens with rapt attention a gentle smile on his face as he takes in your story while watching your expressions.

He looks back to the photo album when you're done "tooth be told you were a cute kid, what's this one from?" He points to a photo of your child self with a few other kids dressed up in costumes.

"Halloween! My mom made that costume herself she was really proud of it." You smile down at the photo before flipping the page again.

The next photo you point out is of you standing next to a woman with flour coating your hair and hands. There's a small splotch of it on your cheek as well as you give a toothy smile to the camera.

"Heh this one was a night me and mom decided to bake some cookies, I made such a mess. Those are still my favorite cookie to this day too." You giggle thinking about the memory.

"heh thought you had that flour power huh?" You giggle and nudge his arm gently.

"That one was pretty bad babe."

"awh dishes br-egging my heart."

You roll your eyes and turn your attention back to the book as your bonefriend chuckles next to you.

There's a few more photos on this page some with family and some with just you. There's one of you with your childhood pet. You excitedly tell Sans about said pet and how much you had loved that sweet baby.

The two of you look through your photos for awhile. Sans seems happy to be able to see you as a kid and his eyelights remain dilated the entire time he's looking at the photos. You laugh over a few stories and cry over others but it's a good time.

After the photo album is done you grab the camera and turn it on. "Ohh Sans look these are my first steps." You turn the camera to Sans and he watches as a baby you hesitantly stands up and takes a few shaky steps before falling down.

Sans gently takes the camera from you and you rest your head on his shoulderbone as he starts to flip through the videos and photos.

He laughs over a video of you completely covered in baby powder at the age of 3 looking like a walking powdered doughnut.

The next video is of you dancing to a populat pop song at the time singing your heart out as your parents cheer you on. Sans chuckles as he watches your little body dance around the small screen dramatically.

There's even a few videos and selfies that you took yourself when you were old enough to work the camera and Sans seemed to really love watching little you playing with their toys like it's a reality TV show.

"you were such a cute kiddo babe, I'll have to whip out mine and Paps old albums sometime." He says softly as he hands the camera back to you.

"Eee I'd love to see some cute little babybones!" You squeal and pack up the box again being extra gentle with the pieces of your childhood.

After that the cleanings pretty much done for as you had lost motivation after going through the box and you flopped onto the bed to cuddle with Sans as you watched a movie. While watching the movie though you're distracted by a thought the entire time.

"Hey Sans... What do you think our baby would look like?" Sans makes a choked sound. His face holds a shocked expression and there's a slight blush to his face as he looks at you.

"...wanna find out?"

[hughiecampbelle]

The Boys Preference: Listening To Goth Music

A/N: Not requested, but I've been so ✨️obsessed✨️ with goth music and ik their reactions would be great lol! All I can imagine is young goth Frenchie 🖤

Butcher truly doesn't care. Most of his music isn't really what he wants to listen to, rather what everyone else is playing. He liked pop because Becca liked pop. He liked rock because Lenny liked rock. He's not the type to sing along or ask questions, so when you play it it's mostly for you. He will of course make fun of you for it regardless of what he actually thinks, calling it emo or crybaby music. You rarely take offense 1.) Because you know he's wrong and 2.) Because you could play anything and he'd find a way to crack a joke. He did the same with everyone he's ever cared about. You learned a long time ago not to take it personally. Rarely, he'll say to play a particular song again, but that's about as far as you get to him saying he likes it in any way or capacity.

Hughie doesn't totally understand the appeal, but if you enjoy it, so does he. He asks you constantly what you're listening to, who the artist is, etc. He wants to know what you're interested in and genuinely enjoys listening to you talk about it. You make him a playlist of all your favorites, and when it's just you in the car, he asks if you can play it for him. He'll look up facts about the bands you like and sneak them into conversations, knowing it'll make you happy. He even, as a birthday gift, got you tickets to a show you've been dying to go to, but the tickets were all sold out. He doesn't share how he got them, of course, wanting to keep the allure. You're so overjoyed you could cry. He might not understand it, but he knows there's no harm in listening and he's even found one or two songs he genuinely enjoys.

Annie tells you privately she's always had a thing for the goth culture. She was never allowed to stray from the blonde hair, church mouse, gold costume kind of aesthetic growing up. She wanted to dye a strand of hair pink once when she was thirteen, and she was punished just for asking. She has tons of genres of music she listens to, one of them being goth. You really weren't expecting it at all from her, though the more you think about it, the more it makes sense. You share songs and artists and annoy everyone with your love and excitement. You're basically a little fan group, especially when new albums come out from your favorite artists. There's this whole new side of Annie you'd never seen before, but cherish instantly. You want to be the one to show her she doesn't have to be some show pony anymore. She can like what she likes and do it loudly.

M.M., surprisingly, finds it comforting. Relaxing. Since he can't really decipher the words for the ones you like, he listens to the beat, the instruments. It's definitely not his go-to genre and he's not the first person you go to when you want to show off new songs, but when it's just the two of you, and you put it on, he can appreciate it. You know what he likes, and you don't stray from it. Other songs, other sounds and types, aren't really his thing. He would never complain to your face, but he'll quietly put in one of his ear buds and listen to a sooting podcast. Marvin is stuck in his ways. He has a harsh line between what he likes and doesn't like. You respect that. You weren't expecting him to enjoy any of it in the first place, so it's a pretty big deal he lets you play it so often.

Frenchie, as a teenager, was goth. He knows all the music, the fashion, the culture. When he sees you listening to one of his favorite bands from the past, he's ecstatic. In a past life, he was all about it. He gives you tons of recommendations. He reminisces about it, too. Oh, how he loved that song. How sad it was that this band broke up. You hadn't realized he'd know all about it, but you're not that surprised. Frenchie listens to all kinds of genres when he works. One minute, he'll be humming along to the Barbie movie soundtrack. The next, it'll be screamo. You're too shy to ask him if he danced to any of it, knowing the dance moves are beyond beautiful, but you do ask about goth clubs, of which he was a regular to many. He loves that you're getting into the genre and is constantly adding songs to your playlist.

Kimiko loves it! She never knew the genre before you showed her, though she's heard Frenchie sings it sometimes, but she's instantly infatuated. You catch her listening to the songs you send her, which is not an easy feat, considering the list just keeps growing by the hour. She's ecstatic to show you artists and bands she found that you might like. She has very strong opinions, and you love going back and forth with her. She definitely has favorites no one is allowed to turn off or they'll be shot daggers. She thanks you often for showing her. It's become a staple in her playlists. Together, you and her and Frenchie share your own little fan club. Once a little more comfortable, Annie joins in, too. The others don't understand, but they don't have to. It brings you all joy, and that's what matters.

[hwanchaesong]

━⁠☞🍽️ Fourth Course: Partners in everything until you realize that you're nothing but his mere puppet in his very own acidic heist. 🥢

🎧: Olivia Rodrigo - Favorite Crime

wc: 826

genre & warnings: angst, college setting, bets and heartbreaks, cursing, hints of sex, break-up, etc etc

a/n: this is a part of The Sour Restaurant series. if y'all want, you can read the other album inspired fics of other groups here.

"Where are you going?" Yeosang asked, confusion written on his features when you suddenly got out of the bed, picking your discarded clothes on the floor.

He's alarmed to say the least, as he was expecting a cuddle session after your first night of intimacy with him.

So, why are you getting ready to leave?

When you don't answer him and continue dressing up, he repeats his question, only to be ignored again.

"Baby? What's up?" his frown deepens, now leaving the comforts of his sheets and picking up some clothes to wear as well.

"Isn't it obvious?" you huffed, putting on a shirt and looking for your bag so you could exit his apartment, "I'm leaving."

Yeosang tugs on your arm, pulling you close to him and stopping you from moving around.

"Why are you leaving? You can stay the night with me." he mumbles, his chest rumbling on your back and you hate how weak you are for him.

But you had enough. You have given him what he wants, you have given in to your desires, so now it's time for you to fix yourself. Maybe hear some reprimanding from your friend once they hear the story tomorrow.

Their voices echo in your head, pushing the knife deeper into your wounded heart.

"Don't get involved with that guy, Y/N. He's a player!"

"Save yourself from the heartbreak."

You would have listened to them, but where's the fun in that right?

Choosing to shield Yeosang from their bullets wasn't a wise thing to do, but you were in love with the man, leaving you no choice but to succumb to his charms.

"You wanted me to stay?" you scoffed, glaring at him and tugging your arm back, moving away from his body before you do something that you will further regret in the long run.

"Of course I do." he mumbles, sincerity lacing his tone and for a second you almost believed that he's been genuine with you.

He appears to be hurt at your attitude, but he doesn't deserve to act like a puppy who got kicked. The audacity to be in pain when it's supposed to be you, the one who should be grieving over murdered love that you are burying six feet under.

You hum, glaring at him with a meaningful smile that he couldn't quite comprehend, "Why? I mean— you already got what you want. Your mission is done."

He stands still and somehow, his breathing becomes shallower, his heartbeat spiking up as Yeosang slowly begins to understand your questionable actions.

You heard them. You fucking know everything.

Yeosang sits quietly in the corner of the classroom, listening to his friends talk about their endeavors and mundane problems in life.

"Oh Yeosang-hyung." Wooyoung called him, catching his attention and raising a brow at the younger in a silent question of what he needed.

"Is your mission going well?"

Yeosang's muscles have gone rigid for a second, remembering the purpose of why he courted you for so long.

But then again, he was ready to throw the stupid bet away.

Why?

Because he genuinely fell in love with you.

All the fake affections he shows, the 'I love you's', the countless nights of cuddling each other, random gossip and eating chicken in the middle of the night.

Everything is suddenly real, but then, what about his ego?

"Yeah." he answers absentmindedly, "I think I'll be able to do it tomorrow."

"Damn, looks like we have to throw in our money the day after tomorrow." Hongjoong laughs, fixing his position from the chair, "Didn't know that Y/N was such an easy target."

Yeosang's fists clenched, not liking the way you are referred to by Hongjoong. Still, he held himself back and forced a smile.

"I second that." Seonghwa butts in, giving Yeosang a pat on the back, "Advanced congratulations to you, my bro, for winning a bet successfully."

"Y/N, I can explain."

You held a hand up to stop him, shaking your head in disappointment. Mainly for yourself.

"Save it Yeosang. Besides, I let myself drown tonight despite knowing that this is nothing but a bet." you close your eyes, willing yourself not to cry.

At least, not in front of him.

"Y/N, baby, please." it was barely a whisper, a weak voice and meek begging but you're not about to give in.

You avoid Yeosang's hand that was attempting to grab you again, trudging towards the door of his apartment, ready to walk out of his life.

"Well, at least you have a new nerd in the notch of your belt. Congratulations, Yeosang."

Then you slammed the door shut, leaving Yeosang and his regrets, the pain of letting you go swallows him alive.

You did your best to love him with all you can, and even after all that, his hands remained soiled by your broken pieces. A crime that won't be forgotten and never be forgiven.

taglist:

@acciocriativity @iarayara @stolasisyourparent @shakalakaboomboo @nsixns @heartssol

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 1/21/2025

hey it's fucking snowing here in houston texas! what the fuck!

listening: toes by the glass animals

reading: the steerswoman series by rosemary kirstein, and the gay and lesbian erotica book of the week, candidate by tracey richardson

watching: various david attenborough documentaries

playing: brief genshin impact report

making: banana bread

listening

glass animals' toes: my best friend's husband and i were chatting about music my best friend introduced us to, and my god there's been so much! i remember back in 2018 i did not expect to like them bc we had wildly diverging indie rock tastes at the time, but they really do scratch something in my brain. very good writing music, bc each album has such a tightly curated vibe and the words are recognizable english but so poetic as to be mostly nonsense. this song is loosely about The Island of Dr Moreau. my best friend has described this song as "like listening to crayons melt"

I'm a man, I'm a twisted fool My hands are twisted too Five fingers, two black hooves I'm a man, don't spin me a lie Got toes, and I can smile I'm crooked but upright

a song for very few blorbos but when it hits for a blorbo it Hits yanno

-

reading

im having a brain time that is favorable to reading many books in one week. we're going to start with some i loved and then go to the gay and lesbian erotica, which i did not love and did not finish.

talking about which post led me to this series would give you an enormous spoiler for the book. we're going to yoink the Setting from wikipedia:

A Steerswoman is a traveling scholar, required to answer any question asked of them, as long as the asker answers truthfully in return. Anyone refusing to answer a Steerswoman's question is placed under a ban, and no Steerswoman will answer their questions in future. Only wizards do not respect the Steerswomen, maintaining intense secrecy around their magic. Kirstein's work is often characterized as science fantasy. Jo Walton describes the Steerswoman series as "not only science fiction, but more science fictional than anything else."[1] Cory Doctorow says of The Steerswoman, "even the book's genre is a riddle that you'll have enormous great fun solving."[2] The Steerswoman series addresses themes of technological development, inter-species interaction, and distribution of knowledge.[4]

i ADORED these. i did basically nothing for two days except apply to jobs and read these books. these are physics brain books. these are Science Fiction with the capitals on books. the first chapter has someone derive a bit of orbital mechanics from first principles by making logical inferences from a chart she drew in the dirt about distribution of certain jewels. despite that, it's never boring! sometimes the steerswoman Rowan will puzzle over something for several chapters before something finally clicks for both you and her. the books are one big nested riddle, and you have all the pieces from the beginning! it just looks so strange from Rowan's eyes that you don't figure it out until she does! and even when you figure out one bit you just have more questions!!! and despite knowing a huge spoiler going in, part of it really blindsided me! it was a very clever bit of writing! good job rosemary!!!

and now for the gay and lesbian erotica book, which again has a 3.8 on goodreads and again i have no idea why. published in 2008 by Bella Press in a very indifferent perfect-bound ~250p softcover with the most creasable cover imaginable, our author Tracey Richardson is a Canadian writing about an American presidential candidate. from what i read, the political speeches were the best part of the book. this was genuinely groundbreaking and revolutionary in 2008 for a Democratic presidential candidate to openly support the LGBTQ+ community! i think Tracey put a more progressive veneer on some of JFK's speeches but that's okay they still hit! that man did have some talented staff members and a great stage presence!

i tortured my best friend by reading snippets of this aloud and removing her toddler daughter from various mischief as she cooked, and we got really stuck on the presidential candidate Jane's age. she is forty three. she is a medical doctor. she lost her husband ten years ago when she had her own private medical practice at THIRTY THREE. she left for a year to do Doctors Without Borders, started a nonprofit in America about healthcare access, and is now a second term senator. this had my bestie and i doing back of the envelope math and we can only conclude she never slept or went on vacation.

i have many beefs with this book, both petty and with regards to construction. my best friend got extremely peeved at the description of someone's accent as "a well heeled eastern seaboard accent". WHAT the fuck does that mean. WHERE on the eastern seaboard??? the standard American Newscaster Accent is faintly midwestern. did they have a sort of bland tidewater politician faint drawl? who knows! this canadian author cannot tell us :(

Tracey is a big fan of dropping details very late. eg we only find out on page 8 after a lot of dialogue that love interest/Secret Service agent Alex has a southern accent. Five pages into a party scene we find out she’s wearing a hawaiian shirt. i had to go back and reread the entire party scene with that in mind. on page 42 we find out Alex is an Olympic gold medal hockey player in the first year women were allowed to play Olympic hockey. earlier in the book we see her playing hockey for funsies with her rec league and we also go over her dossier in detail with Jane. either place would have been a great place to bring this up!!!

this book is also very reverent of the office of usa politicians in a way i find strange for a canadian. and for alex, a somewhat jaded civil servant. alex!!! she’s just a rich nepo baby and has good stage presence!!!! stop falling for it!!!

as a bisexual, novels about straight widows turning lesbian really bother me sometimes. this was one of the ones that really bothered me. it's kind of insane how little bisexual fiction there is compared to the strongly represented pan and poly communities. this was 2008 though so pansexuality wasn't really as mainstream, i don't remember hearing much about it until i went to college in western massachusetts in 2013.

i had to stop reading this book bc it hit me with the following:

these are both cis women. does she have an infection??????? is she okay???? the book is not going to get better from here. books rarely start out bad and then improve. i have only a limited amount of time here on god's green earth and i want to read the thirteenth volume of witch hat atelier instead. gentle reader, i hope you understand.

-

watching

again if i could log individual children's tv show episodes i would be winning letterboxd. i half-watched a lot of david attenborough docs in the background and fell asleep on a couch to his soothing voice. there are some fucked up little guys on this planet.

-

playing

good fucking riddance, even though this is basically a slap on the wrist. the multiple-step in-game currency exchanges in order to get the main in-game currency for pulling for characters is one of the more underhanded gacha systems. gambling is an ancient human activity, it is not instantly harmful or instantly addictive, and there will never be a good way to legislate it out of existence, but i do think some more predatory practices (like this one!) should be legislated.

nothing to report about actually playing genshin this week. a big yearly event approacheth, however. excited to bring you news of the new four-star character, a basket weaver

-

making

banana bread embarrassment. i hate my kitchen so fucking much. my fridge and oven both need to be replaced but will my landlord do that???? no. this oven is from 2007 and does not hold a consistent temp, which is fine if im roasting chicken thighs and it randomly spikes the temp and doesn't heat in one quadrant, but it makes it Very Difficult to bake. i think this was a combo of an inconsistent inner temp and forming a slightly burnt crust that did not want to pull out of the perhaps undergreased pans. fuck an aldi nonstick spray i guess. i SLATHERED that thing and it still had to be persuaded out of the pan.

i consistently forget that martha stewart consistently produces baked goods that are just a touch oilier than i like. you could lose a good two tablespoons of butter in this and not notice it much, i think. a very wet recipe. added in one orange's worth of zest bc i like it.

[wintersera]

g!p aespa and their roomie

(thoughts)

g!p aespa x f!reader non idol au

notes: this has been on my mind for a longgg ass time and i think i’ll write more about this au. it’s also like 1am while im writing this oopsies.

cw: crack (in a way), g!p, dacryphilia(?), SMUT, cockwarming, degredation, praise, marking, overstim, edging

first time staying in a dorm and all of your roommates have cocks??? life is good.

GISELLE HAS A FAT COCK AND KNOWS HOW TO USE IT WELL. knows you’re a perv, staring her up and down everyday. from when she just came out the shower to her coming home from work yeah.. perv. as if she isnt herself. looking at your boobs like she needs them badly. she does. first time you came into her room she signals you to sit down next to her. since its the start of the term you dont know each other that well but the closeness between you two would say otherwise. only knowing eachother for at least two weeks to your surprise she’s comfortably touchy with you. maybe because of the unsurprising sexual tension you both have. leaning in to you with her low cut shirt showing just a smidge of cleavage whispering dirty words into your ear to rile you up calling you her “good little slut” or “her whore” DAMN she wants to fuck you so bad. rips off your clothes desperately tearing your panties off real fast. she lets you ride her mhm mhm. when i say her cock is big i mean it's biiiiiig. 10 inches to be exact. as much as she’s lengthy she’s equally girthy as well. hard to get adjusted to but you finally fit her cock in your cunt. helps you ride out the pain for a while before shoving her entire length into you the sudden pleasure making you scream her name <33 SHE LOVES COWGIRL POSITION SO MUCH ITS CRAZY. watching you bounce on her hard dick while your boobs move up and down is her favourite thing. doesn’t hesitate to sit up and suck and lick your nipples leaving dozens of hickeys on your chest. such a hard dom, will literally shove your head into the pillow, pounding hard and rough from behind. definitely an ass smacker you can’t tell me otherwise. has you crying ever time she slams her cock into you smacking your ass to gain even more guttural moans from you. she goes to gym so you know she can pick you up with ease and throw you around, she does exactly that. treating you like your a doll whenever she wants to switch positions. your on all fours and out of nowhere you’re now on your back with her hovering over you, teasing your entrance again with her tip. 100% a massive tease as well. denying your orgasm for hours on end until your messed up crying on her bed begging on your hands and knees to cum. eventually she does let you cum, but overstimulates you for as long as she’s edged you. i jst think she’s a really teasy hard dom UGH. she also seems like the type to take videos and photos whenever you have sex. has a hidden photo album filled with videos of you riding her dick or photos with hickeys all over your body YUP.

karina has a massive dick but doesn't know how to use it. after actively listening to you and aeris, almost everyday, late night activities she wanted to join in on the fun albeit kinda embarrassed about asking if she could. is so caring during intercourse, almost like you’re a real couple. she’s slow and steady making sure that you’re feeling good always asking if you’re okay. the type of person to get hard off of praise. you could call her a “good girl” after she’d cum in you and she’d immediately get hard again. yeah she has a massive cock probably around the same size as aeri’s but a little more smaller. veiny and kinda leans a little to the left. HOWEVER she genuinely doesn’t know what to do with it, so most of the times you’ve had sex you’re the one to lead. it’s pretty unusual for her as she’s always taken the lead outside of sex meaning she’s a little bit awkward in these situations UGHH she’s so lost. her spooning you whilst you’re watching a movie, her eyes glued onto whatever is on the screen then she feels a sudden pressure on her crotch? oh its just you subtly grinding on her bulge. she’s red in the face and can’t control her hard on awhh so cute. slithering your hand into her boxers, you slowly move your hand up and down her shaft, jacking her off underneath the blanket saying that she should just relax, lowkey scared that one of the other roommates would walk in on you two but at the same time it excites her. feeling of getting caught makes her head spin, cums hard and loud once you pick up your pace. genuinely can’t control her hard ons fr. you could be chilling doing your studies, you look to your left and you see her with one arm on the door frame looking like she needs to be inside of you ASAP. doesn’t like to disturb the other roommates though. rubbing her cock with your hands and your mouth kissing up and down her shaft sends her brain into overdrive. using one of your hands to cover her mouth making sure that her whimpers and moans are almost inaudible. either that or she’s heavily making out with you once you’ve finished using your mouth on her, again, making sure that she’s not moaning out loud. my favourite switch <33 whenever she decides to dom, or whenever you ask her to dom you, she’s so careful. doesn’t have many hard kinks she’s more on the vanilla side. loves missionary with you, anything that gets her really close to your face she loves. seeing how you react when she goes a bit faster or thrusts a bit harder reassures her that she’s doing a good job on pleasuring you. fucks like she’s desperate when she’s near her climax. doesn’t matter what position you’re in, but whenever shes nearing her high she’ll speed up her thrusting grabbing whatever she can, the sheets, your hair, hips, hands literally anything to give her some leverage. disregarding the fact that the other roommates are still in the dorm, she often moans loudly nearing her climax.

winter is a little on the smaller side but hear me out.. she’s a grower. has the most sensitive pink tip. another victim of you and aeri’s late night adventures. (early morning adventures as well 💀) she’s overall really really sensitive OH MY GOD. one day while you were hanging out with winter in her car you accidentally opened one of the videos aeri had taken of you the night before. then boom, you turn your head to the right and you see winter blushing harddd. and that’s when winter had her first blowjob yaayyyy!!! personally i think she’s a massive nerd, vigin, loser and i love that for her. awkward air turned into a heavy make out session at the back of the car, thankfully her windows are tinted ;)) winter not knowing where to put her hands so she just roams across your body from your chest, thighs, hips, neck. she’s touching you everywhere. she’s so clingy pls don’t let her go :(( gets confused when you break the kiss just to slowly go down and unbutton the jeans she’s wearing. to your surprise, and liking, her dick is surprisingly big? shivers when you kiss the tip of her cock, precum already dripping down. she’s so sensitive its crazy i will not stfu about it. taking her whole cock in your mouth, slowly bobbing your head. whimpers spew from her pretty lips. it honestly feels too good for her to the point of incoherency, repeating “feels so good” “too good” “gonna cum” everytime you suck on her tip. head grabber? head pusher??? pushes your head furthering her cock into your throat making you gag a little but then cums at the sensation of you gagging. after her high you decide to spice things up a little for her yaaayy winters first pussy experience!!! straddling her hips, you take off your soaking panties, inserting her already hard cock into your pussy. she shrieks, grabbing your hips saying that it “feels so tight” “feels really warm” pretty much on the verge of cumming once again. overstimulating her is so easy aaahhh. cockwarming lover <33 sometimes she gets too busy with studying but you’re always ‘distracting’ her. you decide to cockwarm her while she studies for her next exam, occasionally shifting around in her lap earning a couple of cute whimpers. will have sex anywhere!!! she’s in the kitchen making ramen when you come up behind her, pressing your chest into her back. immediate turn on. whispering to her that she should take off her pants and she complies “awhh what a good girl”. getting on your knees to pull out her cock telling her to focus on cooking the food. playing with her tip with your tongue while you stroke her shaft making her legs shake from all the pleasure.

ningning is average size but just a bit more bigger than winter. also pretty girthy too. i don’t see much top ningning on tumblr but in this au i see her as a top leaning switch YESSSSSIRR🫡🫡. ning is such a secretive whore. pretends to not know what sex as soon as she sees you taking off your shirt she’s ready to pounce on you. YET AGAIN another victim of you and aeri’s fun little moments. at first she didnt seem all too interested in you at the beginning of the term but she grew somewhat accustomed to your presence LMAO. you had to ask her a question for something? lets say it was something to do with the school year since you were both in the same year. not answering her phone nor opening the door to her room when you knocked, you decided to waltz in, patience running out. LORD she’s sat there with her cock out looking at one of the polaroids aeri had taken of you. you both stare at each other in deafening silence, until she giggles, ushering you towards her bed. before anything she preps you by eating you out. taking both of your legs and hooking it over her shoulders, groaning into you pussy, circling her tongue around your clit. professional pussy eater i think so. already close to cumming she takes your legs off of her shoulders, positioning your legs so that you’re comfortable in front of her then grabbing you by the hips slamming herself into you wet cunt, forcing her entire cock into your hole. her technique is crazy, thrusting in and out of you rhythmically one hand playing with your clit and the other rubbinf circles on the side of your hips. the type of person to laugh during sex, its endearing and its cute but it’s so hot???? she’d be fucking you so hard that you’re crying but she’d be giggling saying that you’re “doing so well”. definitely takes videos and pics like aeri does. wants to keep them as a cute little memory you know, always rewatching them whenever you're not here :( morning sex with her thoughhh. waking up after a night of rough sex with her, seeing her lazily eat your pussy out slowly. takes her time for sure making sure you’re wet enough sliding a couple of fingers inside, hitting your gspot. i feel like she’d spoil you sick, constantly praising you for taking her cock so well, calling you her “pretty baby” , buying you lingerie just so she can take pics of you.

i’m such a slut for g!p giselle i need her so bad

[viccharine]

is it still me that makes you sweat? (my fav outfits from the fever era)

(silly rambling + commentary + process under the cut! reblogs appreciated!!!)

happy 19th birthday, afycso!!!!!! can’t believe that it’s been 19 years since the best album of all time was released, time really does fly lmfaooo

as a bit of celebration, decided to draw some of my fav fits from the fever era!! from left to right is Katie Kay, Ryan Ross, and Roger Fojas!

here are the reference pics i used:

i had wanted to add in Dusty because her outfit is also AMAZING, but i did lose some motivation after sketching out the first three :( also, composition-wise, i probably would have had to readjust the sizing of everything if i added a fourth figure, so i decided to just leave it at three

Ryan Ross is a tad bit out of place since he’s part of the band and the other two are performers, but lowk? just wanted to try drawing the rose vest! I don’t think i quite did it justice, but it sure was fun!!! and that is all that matters tbh

about my process: I really love screen tones guys. like i REALLY love screen tones. this is just layers upon layers upon layers of screen tones, i truly think i am allergic to using anything other than screen tones

i can’t help it!!!! I LOATHE using color in my art actually and also im a sucker for texture!!!!! it was so fun messing around with textures and different screen tones, UGH!!!!! luv them fr <3

some extra process pics (sorry for shitty quality):

just some extra thoughts about the fever era: afycso is truly my favorite album in the world, HANDS DOWN. there really isn’t another album that I listen to completely on a regular basis (the only album that comes REMOTELY close is from under the cork tree)

to me the aesthetic of afycso is UNMATCHED, out of every band i’ve done fanart for I just keep constantly coming back to this album!!! it will never fail to inspire me genuinely, even 19 years later it still holds up remarkably well

(there is something to be said about the misogynistic undertones of a lot of early to late 2000s emo/pop-punk music which afycso was NOT exempt from, but I talk more about that in my commentary under the “dance dance” post I made about a year ago! to summarize, I cannot in good conscience make art about this album without acknowledging how it talks about women, ESPECIALLY as an afab person, but I also have to acknowledge that these songs played and continue to play a large role in my artistic journey. I am not saying that every band in the early to late 2000s was necessarily misogynistic just because of the lyrics, but rather that the standard, acceptable ways that we talk about and refer to women in media have changed in the last 20 years. we can enjoy the music, but we shouldn’t try to replicate it exactly. if you have any more thoughts about this subject, feel free to send me an ask! I love to chat!)

anyway that’s it, byeeeeeeeeee! <3