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phantomphangphucker · 4 years ago

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Phic Phight: [REDACTED] “Oh Goddamnit. DANNY!”

Prompt Creator: @mr-lancers-english-class

Even Danny’s school projects cause ghostly issues and Lancer really should have seen this coming.

Alright fine, Lancer knew this was a bad idea. He knew it. And yet... here they all are, with each of his students doing their self-chosen presentations. And as he should have expected, Every. Single. One. has been on Phantom. Sure at least there’s been some variety. Star’s piece on his fashion and how that reflects on his personality and the era he died was actually fairly interesting (if it wasn’t for the fact that Phantom spiced up his jumpsuit with t-shirts and whatnot sometimes then this would have been a very boring one). Kwan also surprised him some, apparently he’s spent the past year or so sneaking photos of Phantom eating and did a piece on Phantom’s rather peculiar food tastes (who dips their pickles in milkshakes???) as well as effectively providing proof for the existence of ectoplasmic food (there’s no way any earth apples are neon green on the inside). Dash’s wasn’t even correctly calculated, trying to figure out how far Phantom could throw footballs based on his known strength and if he could kill someone by tackling them (disturbingly the answer -regardless of Dash’s bad math- was decidedly yes. Daniel seemed particularly disturbed). And Paulina’s was quite literally a badly written self-insert ship fan fic; the added drawings of what their child would look like only made it worse (Daniel left, not that Lancer could blame him. Lancer’s also glad for the ghost fight interrupting the presentation). Emilie’s was... disturbingly about ghost hunger and purposed the thesis that Phantom, for the good of the town, should eat the aggressor ghosts (he actually had to cut her off for getting too graphic).

But the single most interesting thing was that a ghost apparently caught wind of this and literally Every. Single. Presentation so far had words that were permanently replaced with [REDACTED], which, needless to say, caused some chaos when Samantha gave the very first presentation.

Lancer clicked his pen, crossing his legs and resting the evaluation sheet on his thigh, “alright, Samantha. Feel free to start whenever you please, though soon would be preferred”, by ‘preferred’ he had meant required, but no need to be mean. He chooses to ignore the goth teen's eyeroll.

Predictably the projected screen doesn’t work when she opens her file so Lancer has to spend ten minutes fiddling with the outdated tech that they wouldn’t give the school funding to replace. Eventually, he does get it up and running showing Ms. Manson’s title screen reading ‘Phantom And Hate Crimes Against Blood Blossoms’. Lancer’s positive ‘blood blossoms’ are a type of flower, figures she would do something nature-focused. She’d make for a great herbalist or botanist someday. He does catch Daniel and Tucker giving her ‘death glares’, as the kids call it, though; Samatha doesn’t look any less smug. The second page has what he thinks was supposed to be a detailed drawing of a flower but it’s severely pixilated, almost as if it been blurred; Samantha looks visibly upset so he’s going to assume something when wrong with the file or pasting format. He’s not marking on artistic capabilities though, so effort is effort there.

She quickly clicks to the next page, where the actual writing of the assignment is and looks decidedly pissed; Lancer even quirks an eyebrow since at least two-thirds of the words are a very bold noticeable [REDACTED]. Lancer watches her yank out her physical copy while glaring with murderous intent at Daniel -Lancer will have to dock him marks if he messed with another student's project- before looking at the physical copy in bafflement for a few seconds. Half the class shrieking when she drops the papers and basically launches herself over the desks at Daniel, “OH YOU LITTLE FUCKER!!!! HOW THE FUCK!”.

Lancer’s sighs and stands, “language, Ms. Manson”, moving to pick up the papers and quirking an eyebrow over them looking the same. Sighing again and eyeing Daniel, who’s being choked -or throttled perhaps?- by Samantha yet is grinning innocently. “Daniel, messing with other students' work is against student policy”, sighing yet again, “and I’ll let Star go while Samantha fixes her document”, summoning up the blonde while glaring at Daniel. Some days that boy was more trouble than he was worth but he was also insanely bright and had a heart of gold. Lancer knows he’ll do good things someday, and that’s why he still tries with him.

Half the class is snickering or laughing now and Star is very clearly trying not to laugh as she sets up.

However, as soon as it opens up the class is met with a very familiar sight. [REDACTED] litters every single page; he checked. And Star’s physical copy was in the same state.

Kwan blinks, “okay seriously, what is going on”, before scrambling to grab out his own physical copy; the rest of the class going wide-eyed and following suit. Lancer just puts his head in his hands and sighs very audibly while shaking his head. Why could nothing go right? Sighing again as the class erupts into noise.

“Mines all weird too!”.

“Same here!”.

“Okay there is no way Fenturd messed up everyone’s work”.

“And I actually tried on mine! It was about the merits of Phantom getting armour!”.

“Oh damn do we just get auto hundreds now? Please please please say yes”.

“Oh damn, Phantom would actually look awesome in armour”.

“I know right”.

“Can we just skip class entirely now?”.

“Oh my Zone a ghost messed with or work”.

“Holy Shit”.

“Wait! Wait! Wait! You don’t think Phantom did do you?”.

“Why the heck would he do that? How would he even know??????”.

“Oh I hope Phantom was inside my computer. That would be so hot”.

“Oh I don’t know, maybe someone told him or he overheard shit. He’s a ghost, he can be invisible. Heck, he could be here, right now, invisible”.

“Invisible and laughing at us”.

“No! No! Hold up! What if he doesn’t want us writing about him or maybe someone wrote some sus shit and he just nerfed us all for good measure”.

“That would mean Phantom totally read my stuff, aw Hell yeah man. That was some boss shit”,

Lancer sighs and stands up, “alright that’s enough”, sighing again because why did this have to happen to him, “and I apologies for blaming you earlier, Daniel”.

Samantha snaps, “oh no, I still blame him”, and continues glaring at the teen. Lancer suspects Samantha would continue blaming the boy even if it was firmly proven he wasn’t at fault.

Addressing the class again, “here’s what we’re going to do, you’re going to read off what of your projects you actually can and allude to the rest. Please reframe from repeating what you know was there beforehand as I’d rather not have whatever ghost responsible -Phantom or otherwise- come here pissed off”, glaring at few students who look slightly encouraged rather than discouraged by that prospect, “anyone who does will receive automatic zeroes”, ah and the encouraged looks have deflated. Good. Gesturing at Star, “you’re already up here, so do continue”. Better to not bring the clearly infuriated Samantha back to the front until she’s had some time to calm down.

Star nods and clears her throat, thankfully everyone quiets down. “O-okay, well, um”, gesturing at the screen, “I did my piece on Phantom’s sense of fashion and the cover image was one with him dressed in one of the Spook Sense stores meme shirts....”.

Lancer shakes away the memory, he honestly slightly regrets giving this project. But regardless right now is Daniel’s turn and Lancer is honestly slightly fearful of what his file is going to look like. Thankfully all their files were saved to his computer before the [REDACTED] debacle, so no one could go back in and edit theirs to add [REDACTED]’s for an easy grade. Lancer’s still not exactly sure how he’s supposed to mark assignments that were anywhere from one-fifth to one-third [REDACTED]. That word will be burned into his head after this grading period.

Lancer moves to find the boys file, but stares when clicking it crashes the computer. Not once. Not twice. But thrice. The fourth time rebooting the computer he inspects the file and is a bit dumbfounded, “Daniel, your entire file’s corrupted. The file type has even been changed to redacted, which I’m fairly sure, isn’t actually any possible file designation”. Everyone’s silent for a bit before bursting out into laughter.

“Just what the Zone did you write, Danny!”.

“Oh we so have to know what this is now”.

“Danny has the forbidden knowledge! We haft found him! The keeper of things forbidden and Ghostly! Haza!”.

“Ha! It was probably so lame that Phantom wanted to save him the embarrassment”.

Lancer sighs, but Daniel gestures Tucker up, “hey Tuck, feel like trying to fix the file”. Tucker chuckles and walks up, though apparently glaring at the boy. Based on Daniel’s smirk he finds this quite amusing.

Tucker does manage to make the file viewable at least. Lancer nods and leans back in his seat, “thank you, Mr. Foley”, while the file loads on screen.

Tucker sits back down with a head shake while Daniel stands at the front and gestures to the screen, “aight, as you can see from my not redacted title-”, that earns a couple laughs, “I did mine on Phantom’s portfolio of crime. Every single time our dear Phantom broke ghost law. Including such wonderful things as, that time he caused not one, not two, not even three, but five, prison breaks in one day. Or that time he invalidated a Observant spectator duel by bringing an inflatable sword”. Samantha slams a hand on her desk, “IT IS YOUR FAULT YOU DICK!”.

Lancer has some serious questions as Daniel clicks for the next page, the entire class going dead silent as a screen comprising of almost nothing but the word [REDACTED] shows. Lancer sighs very audibly. Eventually the class starts up again.

“Fenton... actually has forbidden knowledge”.

“If it wasn’t for the teacher computer saved thing I’d think he was fucking with us”.

“I mean... he is a Fenton, right?”.

“Okay the fact that this entire presentation is on ghost crimes is concerning alone. But they’re forbidden ghost crimes at that”.

“Shit I wanted the tea. Damnit”.

“Better question, how does Danny know?”.

Daniel clicking the button to go forward is very audible. And, Chicken Soup For The Soul, every single page is [REDACTED] to the point of being completely and utterly unintelligible. There are occasional lines pointing out how Phantom apparently ate confetti at a ghosts third wedding (which is apparently illegal for some reason) or that time he beat someone up with a violin that had a pie inside it (Lancer can see this one, Lancer himself has smacked a ghost with stranger). Literally the only photo that isn’t blurred beyond recognition is one of Phantom in a prison uniform (Paulina was very vocal about liking men in uniform here). Lancer is absolutely positive the end of his conclusion ‘[REDACTED] are a bunch of [REDACTED]’ is an insult.

Samantha chucks a boot at his smirking face, “YOU IDIOT. Of course they were going to block you from talking about them. Ancients, I can’t believe you”. Tucker’s busy laughing into his hand.

“Oh my Zone, they know too”.

“They’re really earning that weirdo trio title, huh”.

Daniel snickers as he sits back down, “they broke into my room and wrecked that epic puzzle I was working on. They shoulda seen this shit coming. Literally”. Tucker snorts, “they probably did but couldn’t do anything else about it. They can’t stop you and your endless bullshit”.

“Damn fucking straight”.

Lancer isn’t going to claim to know what exactly they’re talking about but apparently Daniel effectively orchestrated this entire fiasco just to annoy some ghost. Lancer is honestly more impressed than disturbed. A for effort but an A- for making everyone's work nigh unusable.

End.

Prompt: For the last project of their senior year in high school, Mr. Lancer is letting his class do presentations on literally whatever topic they want. He is very, /very/ sure that this is going to go poorly, but that's a problem for later...

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worldsover · 4 years ago

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Judgement to the Desiccated ft. Karina

length ✦ 5573

genres ✧ sm type future; asphyxiation; blackmail; virtual_servant!Karina;

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Air did a poor job of not being polluted so Lee Soo Man flooded the world instead. The man himself certainly must be long gone and could not have been in charge of that decision but the legacy of his company far exceeds the legacy of any other human collective in history. Once on this planet, gas was the fluid of choice for respiration and breathing was an unconscious reflex. Now there’s Aether by SM. How very on-brand of them to have the liquid air you breathe follow perfume naming conventions.

Open your eyes and exit the sleeping chamber. Aether has you work for each inhalation, it desaturates the color of the bedroom—maybe there’s a subtle but uncomfortable tinge of yellow—and it makes your nose itch. Your muscles wield much less force than they used to because of the lack of resistance the fluid provides. Moreover, it smells like hairspray as though the ozone layer is taking sardonic revenge.

Screens impersonating windows track your eyes to ensure realistic parallax, playing the scene of divine blue heavens that could not exist. An azure sky is a reward for those planets that have an atmosphere and a sun for light to scatter. Your walls are either chrome or drywall white and your whole bedroom is plainly decorated just like the day you moved in.

“Etymology of bedroom,” you think out loud, though it falls on no ears.

“Bedroom is a compound noun consisting of bed and room. Bed goes back to Old English bedd ‘sleeping place, plot of ground prepared for plants,’ which goes back to the Germanic-”

Plants and sleep are both strong words to use nowadays. The former doesn’t exist in nature and it seems you’re the only one who bothers with the latter. Faint buzzing distracts you from the AI’s response and signals you to the nano drones that swim throughout the liquid to process carbon dioxide from your lungs. This whole ordeal could’ve been much worse if you didn’t have brain interfaces doing the hard part of controlling your diaphragm. The most you need is a purposeful thought. Still, it gets tiring having to think the same thought every three seconds. In. Out.

Was the metaphorical Soo Man teaching a lesson in perseverance? You love K-pop and imagine it’s how trainees used to practice dancing, singing, being charismatic. Being an idol had to be as natural as breathing air. Inhale and exhale. Right now with any antiquated programming language you clung on to, you could write a single for loop that did the same job. For every three seconds: breathe in, breathe out.

“What’s for breakfast today?” Not loud enough. “What’s for breakfast?” you think it louder.

“Welcome, master. Ae-Karina is ready for service.” It’s quite a kindness for SM to blur the bland dystopia you live in by augmenting reality through your neural device. A bosomy woman in a gold-lined but otherwise modest maid outfit appears from the corner of your eye and she bows. Ae-Karina is bewitching and almost becoming of her basis as its graphics have gradually upgraded over the rotations but you wouldn’t misconstrue the avatar as human.

“I said, what’s for breakfast!” It feels impolite to scream in your head, there’s other residents there, but finally the fridge lights up.

“Of course master. May I remind you eating is unnecessary?”

In. Out. Every day, she does remind you, yes. How kind of the company to put all your nutritional requirements in the new air. Aether goes in then Aether goes out. You wish the thoughts of breathing could fade into the background but they’re just like your cravings for food. Always hungry but never starving, whole though not once satisfied. Your eyes pause at her gorgeous face and she tells you there’s bacon. Take it from your fridge. Bacon goes in. Well, the drones take care of the out.

Your assigned living space is the entire 207th floor of a tower. Two hundred and seven floors below the surface. The neighbor a few floors upstairs says that he thinks living deeper is a sign of status. What a luxury. That guy should check the status of his facial muscles, maybe improve his code that lets him tell lies while he’s at it. A couple hundred flights of stairs to swim up is a useless skeuomorphism of skyscrapers in the days of the sun. In fact they were more than useless, you would've preferred a single vertical hallway as it would have let you propel upwards unimpeded. Each floor is the exact same, a glass door that affords no privacy for its residence, a false tree on each side. At the upper levels, malls, convenience stores and other gaudy retail, but it’s the gyms that mock you that you mock in return. They’re always empty.

Finally reaching the top is no true break even if it is a change in scenery. Inhale. Aether tastes a little different up here. Exhale. Can’t say you like it.

Countless satellites form a parody of the star from which the planet flew away, the false image refracted by the upper boundary of Aether. They can’t take away your memories of this star. Looking up at the sky once blinded you with ultraviolet radiation, burning your cornea. It was beautiful. Now everyone’s decided that if they’re playing the part of corporate dystopia, they might as well fit the aesthetic. In a way, it’s self-fulfilling. They wouldn’t have chosen a neon pink sun to compliment the blue and metallic gloom of the cityscape if it weren’t so ingrained in popular media already.

Still, you would’ve expected Google or Walmart to become the megacorp responsible for the state of the world, not a Korean entertainment company. Must’ve been quite the red paperclip scenario. Instead of material design or utilitarian architecture, tacky artistic structures line the streets. The same advertisements for albums that they’ve been selling for the past however long. It's all so obvious, the city could've been designed from scratch to accommodate new forms of travel and goddamn liquid air but instead they went with futuristic Tokyo.

Dubstep permeates your inner ear implants. A notification informs your thoughts that it’s “Hip-hop EDM dance pop with a strong jungle house groove and urban influences.” It’s dubstep. Liquid carries barely any sound so SM affords the option for implants if you're nostalgic for one of the senses. Even though it’s a slower form of communication than direct neural transfer, the noise comforts you. Of course the company would choose dubstep as their background music, but maybe they make money off refunds somehow. It switches to Ice Cream Cake. Much better.

You walk the not so busy roads towards a short brick warehouse in the distance and heavy rain soaks your clothes. No such thing as weather without the sun and water but it’s all simulated anyway.

A warm Seulgi adlib and you know it’s Psycho that starts playing. No, none of your senses are real. The most you could trust is your vision but even that’s being lied to. You could be living in a vat and fed all these thoughts, but then why make it so mediocre? Not paradise, nor torture but a lukewarm in-between. Guess that's what happens when SM Entertainment manages the post-apocalypse. Good on them for trying. The alternative would be a frozen hellscape without solar radiation. Can’t deny their work with geothermal and nuclear energy to keep the Aether warm so that you didn’t have to live underground for the rest of human history. It’s quite great PR to save humanity.

“Hey now, we’ll be okay,” repeats a few more times than you remember.

The Idea Factory Alpha White Delta Green says the neon tubes lighting the front of the brick and mortar building. Your ID card bears a name but it’s not yours, not until they approve your name change. Those usually get processed faster with how often people liked changing their names.

Sit at a desk with a sterile white keyboard and slick new monitor. Type and empty words appear on the screen: “Think for the many, not for the one. We need to think ahead.” A thumbs up. The company appreciates the input. That’s probably enough work for one day. Some SNSD live stages help the time pass, SM certainly appreciated the streaming numbers and it would net you some social points.

It’s hard to say what comes to mind when they ask you to envision a world without the sun and air, especially since it’s what you’ve known for... Two hundred years? There’s no frame of reference, that much you can tell from when you counted seconds to see how often the satellites completed their orbit. SM really took time to have them propel at random speeds, they love withholding sensitive information like that from citizens. To be fair, time is sensitive. Guess the meaning of that phrase changes like all parts of language.

Look around. Dozens of employees at identical workspaces all try to answer the same questions. Naturally, there’s no need for manual labor anymore but there will never be a replacement for human ingenuity. Nice slogan but you know you’re only here for data. Can’t see a need for customer retention though—what’s the alternative, skip Earth? See you on another planet?

“Hey bro, you come up with anything new?” Dave says. Two desks away, you see the enthusiastic, surprisingly spry man play around with a Newton’s cradle. The balls at each end bounce back and forth, not slowing down their rhythm any time soon.

“I think I got something,” you say, “Earth is not the answer. It can’t be, long term.”

“Ooh, I like that. Actually, I really like that.”

“What are you gonna do, copy me?”

“Of course not. You know how much SM hates plagiarism.” Click. Clack.

“Ha. As if there’s a single original thought left in the world.” Click. Clack. The imaginary sounds of metal spheres bouncing play in your mind. They got the volume wrong, no way it’d sound that loud from that distance. “You’d think with all their resources, they’d have figured out space travel by now.”

“I don’t think they want to leave, bro. Wouldn’t be great for profits.”

Your mouth opens to laugh and causes laugh8942.mp3 to play in Dave’s head. “I love it. SM probably hates that sass too,” you say.

“Oh no, they’re gonna arrest me for thoughtcrimes. Nah, they love creativity, just when it suits them. Also, if they actually did bust you for wrongthink like rumors say, I wouldn’t have this on me.” Dave twirls a finger and points at you and you thank his absurd flair for the histrionic that keeps you amused with such drab work.

“NewDrug.mp6. Would you like to play it?” the dry system voice notifies you.

“Woah woah there tiger, hold on.” Dave must’ve noticed your intrigued eyes and holds his hands up. “You might wanna experience that at home. But if you’re interested in more, ask for chicken parm at the vegan place. You know the one.”

Dave leaves his desk. He doesn’t return. You finish your work. Inspire. Expire. You’d rather not.

In contrast to your commute to work, the roads fill with others on your way home. You have to know. Take solace in the comfort of a bench where a huge McDonald’s arch bathes the surroundings and its people with a yellow glow. Really shouldn’t watch it now, especially if Dave says it’s a home type of watch but you have to know. A family of five watches you pass out. They, along with every other passerby, ignore your still body draped over the chrome outdoor seating as you look like yet another junkie. The title is correct after a fashion, the simulation is some sort of new drug. The details of the exploits that happen in the immersive replay wash over you but you don’t need them to know that it’s the sort of lewd that SM would not allow—at least not publicly and not without the right exorbitant payment.

Suit pants and underwear go straight to the laundry. That must’ve been an embarrassing sight but no one bothered to stop you, so it doesn’t matter. Look up where this vegan place was that Dave so presumptuously assumed you knew about and you find that it’s about four Avengers’ stores down from work. He must’ve eaten there before.

“Yo Dave, just wanna make sure, what’s the name of the vegan place called?”

“What are you talking about, man? You telling me there’s some secret underground farms that SM wouldn’t know about?”

You can’t tell when you got to work, a lack of standardized timing would help as well the haze of living in a monotonous dark. “Nah, I mean, for the-”

“I have no idea,” Dave emphasizes each word, “what you’re talking about.”

“I see.”

Work flies by, unusually.

“Hey, can I get a chicken-”

“Uh, this is Maron’s Veggies Only, it clearly says on the sign.”

Clear your throat. “Parm.”

The shifty part-time worker looks around and rubs his fingers gesturing for money. “No digital.”

Over the counter, you pass him a gold coin stamped with a holographic 1 and he hands you a USB stick and a laptop in return. How old-fashioned.

“It’ll sync with whoever you have set as your avatar experience aspect,” the worker says.

“Thanks.”

Ever vigilant as the patrol is, the alleys are the last place you want to go to hide with the obvious criminal element within them all but you head to one anyway. Dump the anachronistic technology in your storage pocket dimensions. Looking at its contents, you’d have to clean that mess up later, but the more you look like an average slob the better. The biggest problem with the inventories is all the people squatting in them. Inspectors wouldn’t care about the archaic ruins you left in yours.

“Welcome, master. Ae-Karina is ready to service.”

“I’d like to go on a date. A special date.” You highlight the key word special and sit on your living room couch. No one’s going to look in your glass door and regardless, you wouldn’t be the pervert for glimpsing into someone’s home.

“Ah yes, master. Ae-Karina is ready to fully service,” she says with a provocative tint in her tone, her sclera disperses to black to match. A pole drops from the ceiling while parts of her maid outfit dissolve which reveals more of the silky skin of her thighs, her lissom arms and most importantly her overflowing breasts. Ae-Karina wraps her legs around the pole and spins around, teasing fingers trace curves on her body to harden you. Her dance is precise but sultry regardless. She pulls up her short skirt to flaunt more of her ass beneath white panties and then pulls down to flourish her cleavage, not trapped by a bra. “Are you enjoying your maid’s show?”

“Very much so, yes,” you say.

Half of a smile forms before a glitch occurs and she teleports next to you, fully nude. It doesn’t pull you out of the illusion however. You just stare and drink in the splendor of her created body.

“You’re not going to touch?” Ae-Karina says.

A feel of her tits and you find it softer than pillows you used to rest on. Soft isn’t much of a character that exists anymore when the whole world is engulfed in liquid. No one has beds, especially with the rarity of sleep. Therefore, her mounds are a consummate dedication to the texture as you squeeze and pinch at her cute nipples.

Her maid outfit rematerializes as she straddles you. It provides more friction to your pants as she begins her lap dance. The weight of her body dragging across your legs and clothed erection induces your carnal impulses further. If only you could fuck the virtual idol. You have to make do with the imprint of her pussy lips on your bulge sliding up and down. Breath in. Breath out.

Ae-Karina pulls down your boxers and spits on your erection. It's not real but her hands so slick on your cock and you let reality slip. Real is for the past, you have desires gratified in the present. There is no real person nibbling at your neck but your nerves activate in sexual desire without discernment for truth. No, she doesn't love you, but when the voracious mass of ones and zeroes says it loves its master, you say it back.

"I love you."

ILOVEYOU infected ten million computers in 2000. An explosion. Calibration engaging. It’s 1:21 PM, Sunday, July 18, 2286 and hypothetically the sun would be out in its full rage. At this latitude and longitude, you’re at what was once the epicenter of all—Seoul, where a fountain caused a chain reaction allowing the hopeful remnant of a world to exist. It lasted a surprisingly long time without the sun and without Aether but the dying planet would succumb inevitably to the ever-increasing contamination so SM of all corporations took charge. A different kind of chain reaction occurred when they acquired a restaurant chain that discovered the recipe for liquid air. The law is on its way and prepared to punish you to its full extent.

You reel while your ears ring. An even sexier version of the woman you already fantasized about appears from your peripheral vision in the crater of your floor. A skimpy cop outfit, striated with reflective material that seems to wane black at different angles, outlines Karina’s curves. She has a tool belt with absurd gadgets, such as a knife baton hybrid, a taser combined with a spray bottle and a Tamagotchi. None of this is necessary. They could just immediately arrest you, impose limitations on your devices. Sure, SM cloned people to deal with underpopulation, but why Karina would be the enforcer is a whole nother issue. Maybe the entertainment company loves their irony?

“Halt. You’re under arrest. Any resistance will be penalized according to the combined Terms of Service of all SM and SM associated products.”

Fucked anyway, you figure you might as well go for it. Escape into your inventory and only seconds later you’re forced out. You manage to get what you need regardless.

“Violation of access rights will be charged to your account.”

It’s so obvious but there’s a reason you kept so much gold in physical storage. As you swim away, the sides of your apartment start to bubble. Bubbles? Already, your limbs feel unsteady. Something’s wrong in the Aether.

“This is standard procedure for escaping suspects that are indoors. Again, this is all agreed to under the Terms of Service.”

“When the fuck did I ever click accept to that shit?”

“When you were born in this world and decided you want to stay in it,” Karina says out loud. You hear her say it. Your physical ears process the vibrations in the air that come from her mouth. Gravity thwarts your desperate escape as your limp body floats on the limit between liquid and air. The atrophy of your muscles becomes apparent within the gaseous atmosphere. She watches you sink down as the room drains of all the false air though her eyebrows crease when she inspects you closer. Your breaths are involuntary. Despite your muscles shorting out, the force of gravity and the pressure of the gas bearing down on you, you’re breathing and you don’t mean to. Her eyes wander farther down. On your pants, a concrete rod stamps the fabric.

“Oh, you like what you see?”

“Shut up, criminal. Anything you say can and will be used against you.”

“Your pussy,” you say and she scoffs.

“Original.” Karina bites her lip as your erection continues to grow behind its prison. You use all effort to put your hands up.

“Please, miss Karina. I’ve been bad.”

“I could punish you even more for sexual assault.”

“Then do it.”

Heat radiates the room in a way you haven’t felt in a while and droplets of sweat form on each of your bodies, especially on the thighs that her revealing outfit parades. Her facial features contort in deliberation and the wait kills you. You bat your eyes at her before Karina takes off her tight shorts and drops herself into your anticipatory face. This makes no sense but none of this life made any sense so you decide to go with the tides.

Centuries of training your respiration has led to this moment, but when you finally have real air to breathe, you spit at the opportunity and choose to suffocate. Then you spit at her pussy and lap it up. Karina’s nectar transfixes your olfactory glands, for once a smell that isn’t the sterile Aether. Your eyes are mesmerized in parallel because of the perfect design of her pussy, a single crease that leads into her hole that your tongue emphatically explores. Karina spreads her thighs wide to reveal a small nub that craves attention. So give it. Suck and swirl and flick your tongue, and the woman provides you the tight clench of her legs as a gift. And the sounds, rediscovered glorious noise. Loud, almost too loud, and clear is how they assault your ears, even surrounded by the flesh of her thighs. Muffled by the weight of her legs, you hear Karina moan in approval but she’s still clearly in charge with how she chokes you with her legs. This is not about your pleasure but hers, and any satisfaction that you derive is not only incidental but probably punishable by SM copyright law.

Karina squirms her hips subtly on your mouth. Her eyes are sharp and she’s just about to stop your hands from moving but she notices them clasp together.

“I’ll do anything to make you cum, please.” you say sloppily as her pussy juices fill your cheeks and drip down your chin.

“God. I can’t.” She takes deep, contemplative breaths. ”That’s more time added on for inappropriate behavior.” Her groaning and brief squeals make her words sound incogent.

You give her a concluding lick and a kiss on her slit. “So what have you been doing right now then?”

Point to a corner of the room and a subtle red light indicates a recording camera. At once, she pulls out a hose from a pocket that could not fit it and the vacuum submerges the room with noise. Her expression shifts quickly to serious.

“We don’t play games here in SMTOWN unless it’s SuperStar so don’t fuck with me.”

“Look who's trying to be a comedian. How about you fuck with me any further and the video gets released.”

“That’s funny, you think you have any sort of power-”

“Yoo Jimin, I suggest you don’t push me more.”

“Where do you know that name from? Right now.” She weighs herself down on your neck.

“You think I don’t have contingencies for if I die too? Karina, we can make this a win-win scenario. We both get to cum, we both get to walk away unscathed.”

“Fuck you.”

Your weak arms wander between her thighs. At any moment, a feeble punch towards your face or another ten seconds of asphyxiation and she could call your bluff. Even if you did have the ability to expose her perversions in any way, there would be no permanent recourse, not as long SM was in charge. So it surprises you when Karina takes off her shorts.

“Goddammit. Your cock just looks too good. And your mouth, how are you so good with it?” Put up five fingers when she motions to remove her top as well, and instead she opts to take off your clothes, seizing your pants and throwing them to join the rubble in the room.

A finger slips in, then two and a third dares. Her flawlessly architected pussy lips clings to your digits and Karina shudders in reply. You explore her wetness and find it’s smooth to the point of having no faults, but her juice inside is gloppy and causes your fingers to stick more than the liquids she spills from her slit.

“Who said you’re allowed to have more?”

You lap up the nectar on your fingers. “Then why’d they make you taste so good?”

Your thumb teases her sweet tight asshole and puts just the slightest amount of pressure on it while you finger her with more intensity. The mass of her butt burdens your torso the closer she gets to orgasm. Her eyelids squeeze close and you see her body ripple in anxious pleasure. Karina shows off her pearly whites, teetering on the cliff of hysteria.

“Yes, yes! I’m so close,” she screams.

"Not yet."

“Fuck." Karina sobs, "God. Damn, fuck I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Just fuck me.”

“My pleasure,” you say. There’s no need for you to grab her since she brings herself down to your groin, which you’re thankful for as your arms are as good as jelly now. Fortunately, your cock throbs as hard as ever while Karina’s slit rests on it.

“Say you’ll delete it all, all the evidence, promise me.”

“You’re gonna fuck me first or what?” Your breath hitches while she makes a strangled noise as her velvety walls swallow your cock whole to leave no room for comfort. Her tightness is stifling and you have to start counting just to breathe again.

“One two-”

“Be quiet.”

But there is no quiet when pleas for your cooperation intersperse her excessive profanities when she seats herself into your cock and ricochets up and down. Sweat emanates from her creamy skin while her legs widen to find a better angle for her supporting knees in her cowgirl position. Grapefruit and other citrus mingle with the scent of the sweat, fruits you haven’t seen except on billboards in music videos. As much as your mind crackles and your blood roars for every atmosphere of pressure Karina’s walls provide on each thrust in and out, you can’t help but reminisce on sweeter, more innocent times.

The white fluorescent lights in your apartment sputter. For all the advancements in technology, some among many things never change. Light refracts differently in air, less bright, but you can see the pure enjoyment on Karina’s face no matter the luminescence. Karina slows her ride to pull her hips down harder instead and she jolts when your cock finds the most tender spots inside her pussy and it interrupts her babbling.

Karina almost hyperventilates when she gets up to spit on your cock. She pulls out some kind of meter from her tool belt and sighs when there’s no beeping and you recognize it having to do with carbon dioxide. She gets back to dribbling saliva and the filament trailing down to your shaft mesmerizes you. This spit is real, not simulated, and it wettens your erection in a mix with her pussy juices to paralyze you further in your already listless state. Her bare thighs jiggle and you can’t exert much force with your hands but her buttcheeks are firm with just a bit of give.

“Thank you for this cock, thank you for being bad,” Karina says as you watch her ass sink deeper while her pussy holds your dick taut. She’s frenetic when bounces up and down to play an unadulterated orchestra of slick noises between your groins.

“You’re welcome,” you accomplish getting out the words between planned breaths. Your hands cup her buttcheeks but you fear they may break with how she strikes her ass into you.

Karina turns around once more to give you the spectacle of her facial expressions as she fucks herself into you. Knead her calves laying on your torso and they take no energy to spread them though she brings them back together, compressing your hard shaft within her pussy. A new game you play with her, a separate rhythm of loosening and tightening. Her feet press on your chest to help her bounce, but the way they bear down on your lungs against the timing of your breathing causes you to fumble. Your cock bends straight forward as she plunges herself into you and it sends prickles to your entire skin, making the new angle difficult but worth it. Karina takes your hand and starts sucking on your fingers.

“You want my promise that bad?” you say.

“Yes, as bad as I want your cum. I swear, I need it.”

She draws her knees up to her torso and hugs her legs to keep thighs as tight together as possible. Karina couldn’t keep her word, she was trying to kill your cock with constriction.

“Fuck, your pussy is so fucking tight. God, Karina, fuck. You’re so good.” Even if good isn’t the word you want to use to describe her.

“Do it, please, please. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, baby. Karina can be a good girl, a good maid, a good cop, whatever you want. Just don’t get me in trouble, please.”

Karina’s mouth stops saying words though her lips writhe, drunk in increasing lust. Her cheeks flush, before the rest of her skin joins in redness while she grapples your chest and whatever spare limb she can find. You still struggle wresting control of your body but nature seems to take over when you drive yourself into her and match her needy cadence. The air in the room is replaced by a new air but it isn’t Aether. Passion, sweat, heat and all fluids that you both exude join squelching sounds, slaps and moans in harmonic bliss when her body tenses and she screams. As her body tightens, her pussy especially holds your cock for dear life and endeavours to wring out all your semen as her wetness throbs and spills. Karina starts counting to three repeatedly and you laugh though your amusement quickly subsides when you feel her juices become more viscous and she continues her ride, even in the dying pulses of her climax.

“Was I good?” Karina asks.

Just a moment goes by before you mentally send her a screenshot of all the recordings being deleted. Karina hasn’t stopped fucking you yet so at least it wasn’t a ploy.

“Thank you, thank you, I love you.” The flexion of her pliant legs brings them all the way back to rest on top of your legs. Karina lays prone above you and finally give you a kiss. The citrusy flavor may be closer to lime than grapefruit but it’s been so long that you can’t remember which scent is which. Lips crash and her tongue lashes out at yours trying to establish dominance. Keep still to let her investigate your mouth while her pussy does the same to your shaft.

You savor the way Karina’s top emphasizes the bouncing of her tits synchronous with the rebounding of her waist on your cock, but your mouth waters when she frees them. Take the shortest moment to relish in the sight before Karina smothers you with her plump globes. You wriggle your face to try to breathe. Inhale, up and exhale, down, but all you inhale is the scent of her orbs’ sweat. Her hips undulate with a pace at least double yours breathing and the echoes of slapping flesh resonate throughout the air-filled chamber. The loudness is unlike any you’ve experienced in a long time. It’s almost a flashbang every time her ass slams into your lap, especially as you start to see white when orgasm threatens to overload you with preludial pulses.

The last words you hear infected ten million computers in 2000. Fade to black. Cut. You’re slammed out of existence back into existence as a sun rebirths both within you, heating your core to a dangerous high, and from your eyes, dazzling you in an unforgiving white light. In the throes of unconsciousness relapsing to consciousness back to tenebrosity, your streaks of semen suspend in the Aether like a dead tree resting from the wind. What flashes your mind in its orgasmic state are two things only you would remember, plants and weather. Your hyperventilation is unconscious but not unwelcome, as it’s the first time in a while your breaths were reflexive even in the liquid air. However, basking in your newfound power, you start to choke. Right. You breathe in and out again. In and out. In. Out. In. Out. Back in.

“Replaying KarinaArrestsYou.mp6.” A hint of vexatious glee in the system’s otherwise dry voice. You don’t stop for it.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

AFF, AO3

It’s pretty silly but the idea danced around in my head ever since I saw the absolute Black Mirror concept that SM had for aespa and I concur that Karina is insanely hot.

As I’m writing this, this Kurzgesagt video on the idea of a rogue Earth comes out and now I have to rewrite stuff to make it at least a little consistent. I’m obviously already going nuts with all these ridiculous sci-fi concepts but this video almost feels too targeted to me writing this for me to ignore it.

#kpop smut #aespa smut #male reader #reader insert #title tracks

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silver-wield · 4 years ago

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I’ve just read the hypocrite comment from that Clerithox, I was totally flabbergasted that there is some CA that really-really-really-really do think that CA is canon and CT is fanon??? (WTH) I mean, ship what you like but don’t exposed yourself to be mentally unable to comprehend game’s plot/story/narrative & ignoring all the documented evidence (SMH) …. Psssst no one need to know you’re unwise.

So over on my twitter account I actually have the entire cult blocked and I mute all their tags so I don't see any of this unless it's sent in the group chat I'm in. Why am I saying this? So yall understand that I don't go looking for it and actually can't see it even if I tried. And yet, here is a list of all their bs takes about Tifa and the game so far for this year.

A year of cult bs in chronological order. A lot of these are repeated at different times during the month.

January

• 2020 was the year of Aerith

• Clotis want Tifa to die

• FF7R will be different

• Clotis want Tifa to have Aerith's arc

• Body shaming Tifa

• Barifa

• S7 residents didn't ask about Aerith after the plate collapse so they deserved to die

• Cloud is single in AC

• Aerith won't die and will save Cloud in the lifestream scene

• Cloud's heart "skips a beat"

• The number 8 is proof

• Editing scenes to remove undesirable canon lines

• Tifa gets blown away first in the Sephiroth battle opening cut scene, so that makes her weak

• Tifa's a badly written character

• Tifa has no backstory

• Nomura "hates" Tifa

• Aerith's key art of her staring at the blue sky is about Cloud

• Aerith's red dress scene and second dress bgm are validation

• Tifa is an overhyped bartender

• Tifa's weak (again)

• Body shaming Tifa (again)

• Hollow

• Tifa's weak (again)

• Aerith has better reflexes than Tifa

• If Cloud and Tifa are a couple why is the ending of FF7 such a downer?

• "Aunt" Tifa

• Body shaming Tifa (again)

• Cloud "couldn't refuse" Aerith

• Tifa respects Cloud's personal space

• EC and 1st Soldier were announced together so are clearly about the same thing, which isn't Zack

• Cloud listed 7th heaven in AC as 7th heaven so he doesn't love Tifa

• Body shaming Tifa (again)

• Aerith will live and fix Cloud's mind in the lifestream scene (again)

• Tifa got rejected because she asked if Cloud loved her while he was asleep in otwtas

• Ever Crisis is about Aerith, the Cetra and Jenova

• 7s till the end is Sephiroth warning he'll kill Aerith, so Cloud can save her

• Aerith and Sephiroth is a healthier pairing than Aerith and Zack

• Tifa didn't want to save Aerith

• Tifa's weak (again)

• Tifa's fanservice

• Body shaming Tifa (again)

• Tifa's weak (again)

• Tifa's a martial artist so should save herself

• Tifa's weak (again)

• You can see the pencil outline of 13yo Tifa's boob in her concept art - Roberto Ferrari is a pervert

• Aerith is the default heroine because the Amano art said so

• Fanart has no right showing Cloud and Tifa in the church

• Cloud, Aerith and Sephiroth are the FF7 "trinity"

• WoFF is FF7 canon

• AC Cloud getting stabbed in the shoulder is a callback to Aerith being stabbed in the back

• Tifa asked Cloud to talk in otwtas and that makes her a bad person

• Tifa is a "raging cishet"

• Ultimanias are just extended information

• Cloud dances for Aerith

• Aerith will ride the Hardy Davidson in part 2

• Barrifa (again)

• The whole plot of AC is Cloud losing "the love of his life"

• Barrifa (again)

• Tifa's weak (again)

• Tifa didn't want to save Aerith (again)

• Stars are their motif

• 7r posted a gif of Cloud, Tifa and Aerith so that's validation

• Triggered by fanart (again)

• Aerith will live and be with Cloud

February

• Barifa

• SE bias because they liked a cloti art

• Body shaming Tifa

• Tifa's "useless"

• Tifa was friendzoned

• Cloud wants to rape Aerith (it's just a joke though so that's okay)

• Getting triggered over fanart likes (again)

• Tifa's "useless" (again)

• Tifa didn't want to save Aerith

• Tifa was friendzoned (again)

• Tifa's "over praised"

• Haha we got 9 love songs

• Cloud wants to rape Aerith (again) (still just a joke, though, so that's okay)

• Cloud said he was a soldier on purpose because he wants to rape Aerith.

• Tifa should die

• Body shaming Tifa (again)

• Tifa's overly included in the game

• Tifa's useless (again)

• Barrifa (again)

• Tifa should die (again)

• Aerith saved everyone in AC

• Aerith's resolution is a love confession

• Hamaguichi is one of them because he had a photo taken on the church set

• Tifa's a "generic Asian girl"

• Tifa's white and appropriated Asian culture

• Tifa's fanservice

March

• List of 12 reasons why Aerith loves Cloud that includes her blocking the hallway to prevent him leaving, and stalking him.

• Tifa respects Cloud's personal space and that's bad

• Aerith will live because the devs wouldn't waste money remaking the story the same way.

• Hamaguichi is a dumdum because a fanartist claimed he spoke to her and said they'll have "their perfect answer"

• Over 10 love songs

• Tifa has a generic Asian face

• Cait Sith is confirmation because he said Cloud will lose his most precious thing and they assume that he meant Aerith

• Bracketing a picture of Aerith alongside one of Cloud who was protecting Tifa at the time

• Cloud and Tifa are just friends

• Cloud talks to Aerith more than anyone else in the game

• Hollow

• 7R is an alternate timeline and this time Aerith's aware she'll die and wants Cloud to save her, and Cloud is aware he needs to save her

• Aerith lives in relative luxury in the slums, how dare people hate her

• Tifa is a coward

• Roxas and Sora are Cloud and Aerith's kids

• Cloud confessed love during Aerith's resolution

• Tifa is an underdeveloped character compared to Aerith

• Cloud and Tifa weren't childhood friends

• Hamaguichi is a dumdum and supports the busted dinghy (again)

• People who like Tifa more than Aerith are boring

• The story is a sequel and Cloud and Aerith support Tifa in becoming an independent woman while she knows they're together and accepts it

• Cloud remembers Zack and doesn't say anything during the slide scene because he doesn't want to ruin his and Aerith's "date"

• The ending of OG is dumdum because of a mistranslated line

• Tifa is weak and clingy

• Edited scenes of Cloud's face centimetres from Aerith's

• Aerith's resolution is really Cloud's despite being labelled as Aerith's

This is just up to today's date 🤦‍♀️

#Ship war #For the fandom #For common sense

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acrispyapple · 5 years ago

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why do you watermark official pics that aren't yours? i'm honestly shocked cybird hasn't had you banned for dcma laws + spoiling paid stories and epilogues, but you do you. you made it so i never have to pay money for any of the cybird games + mlqc. also i read why you aren't posting the sprites which is cool and all but you shouldn't be posting game elements either way. that's super shitty of you to do because spoiler THE ARTWORK ISN'T YOURSSSSSSS. the pic of victor on your twitter isnt yours 2

heya! i’ve already answered an ask like this recently and ignored the follow up ones because i don’t really wanna keep repeating myself. but since you’re very persistent and it’s still the same thing, here i go! putting under a cut because it’s long and has images – with stuff written on them! dun dun dunnnn (¯▿¯)

to start things, i’m the wrong person to accuse of being irresponsible with my posts because i’m very mindful of posting etiquette. have you not seen all my campaigns about not stealing from artists, from blogs, etc. i ask for permission for everything, even for random text i want to translate from someone’s post. even for cosplay i’ve seen other people freely post, i always go to the source and ask. i hope my answer clarifies things for you because i don’t really wanna have to repeat it again! (*^^*)♡

re: watermarks (complaint mostly about mlqc because i don’t really do it for cybird)

re: cybird

i’m not exactly a hidden secret blog, so i’m pretty sure cybird is well aware of me. plus, they’ve left comments on my blog in the past. sooo, there’s nothing shocking about it at all! maybe what’s shocking is you somehow expected cybird to not have noticed my blog all these years. do you actually know what the digital millennium copyright act covers? (dmca not dcma btw) as long as i know how to read and understand rules and i’m always within its boundaries, there’s nothing being violated. always post obstructed cgs / never full, snippets of 10 for screenies, never in consecutive order, etc. you should read the rules tbh, you seem unfamiliar with it. ☆

re: you never having to pay money for any cybird game

again, snippets = not full stories. everyone can post snippets. paid or not. that’s so weird that you feel you don’t need to pay for ~any cybird game~ anymore because of my blog. i haven’t been consistently posting paid content for so long. even ikesen epilogues. because i don’t have the time. and i’ve skipped posting a couple of events on my blog too. i don’t post ikerev / midcin consistently either. i’ve posted from two ikevam events in the past months with epilogue snippets. i guess you only played those? that’s hardly everything. nice attempt at creating an issue about me making cybird lose money tho! for someone who thinks i do dodgy things, you sure do like reading from my blog– if what you’re saying is true. but you seem to not know my blog content either. (⌒_⌒;)

i have another answer for this from an ask from 9 months ago:

re: not paying for mlqc

they allow posting everything from their game, i even verified with their team! but even i don’t have the time or post slot to post everything from it. i mostly post about victor soooo, i guess that’s everything you need to know about mlqc then? yay for you only needing victor! ♡

re: game elements

what?

anyway, moving forward to my twitter header:

it’s from this post i made, where i screenied scenes (and edited them a bit to look brighter and prettier) from the pv of the new chapters in the ch version.

now, i just put my username there as a marker and it was already covered in the first part of this ask. (how it helps me keep track of my posts, helps me when people are able to identify it’s from my blog and alert me of it being posted elsewhere, etc.) but i wanted to show it even clearer so you can finally let go of whatever it is you’re burning with. ( ˙▿˙ )

it just says acrispyapple on this screenie i took (that’s right, it’s just a screenshot lmao), it’s a random word or name. i made it small and inconspicuous so it wouldn’t distract from the image. the weibo watermark is bigger and clearer but i don’t use it– i can, but i don’t. when people see it, they know it’s official art and that’s it. there’s no “made by acrispyapple™©®”

(thanks for visiting my twitter btw! it doesn’t really have a lot of followers haha)

sooo, there’s weibo and its automatic watermarks (location can be changed).

“damn, all the users on weibo are claiming stuff as their own!!!! it’s not just a marker that a certain thing was posted from a certain blog!!! they’re claiming it as theirs even tho it’s clearly very easy to see that it’s one of many free-for-all official images!!!” (≧◡≦)

and i’ve seen people use the cards as banners for fanfics and other stuff, or even memes where they put random stuff on it like this:

but writing a random word on it, just because you know my blog is somehow a great sin? it’s not even acrispyapple.tumblr.com ✿

would it maybe make you feel better if it wasn’t just acrispyapple? i can use random words and it’ll still serve as a marker for me lmao

anyway anon, it pays to actually listen and read before you get mad and accuse. i’m not breaking any rules and i’m very much aware of what’s not allowed and what’s allowed. (^ ^*)♡

edit:

i kinda like it. (^◔ᴥ◔^)

side note: if you have a vendetta against me, you’re free to have one. but please don’t try to make stuff up just to yell at me. you can hate me quietly from afar or just avoid me altogether. or if you want to find a reason to yell at me, at least try to educate yourself about what you’re planning on yelling at me about. it’ll save me time trying to explain stuff! i also don’t like wasting my post slots for the day. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

i would suggest looking at my actual content first, so your lack of knowledge of it doesn’t give you away. also, try asking yourself if you really think cybird’s en team would miss me after all these years and if you’re somehow the only enlightened one who can see all my ~misgivings~? are you aware of mlqc’s rules?

it’s funny because i’m not even close to covering everything for mlqc and there are blogs that cover far more than i do. i answer a lot of asks (i wish asks were paid content, as in i get paid to answer asks), but game content-wise, i’m faaaar from covering everyone. unless you really consider victor the whole game (��). in which case i’m still missing his ch11 and ch19 screenies and one date. oh and the recent rumors&secrets! if you take a look at my posts, it’s mostly announcements, asks, fanart, general info, avatar posts, etc. i think you blindly went in with salt. ( ˙▿˙ )

i don’t really interact with people unless i have to talk about reposts and fanart-related stuff. i also just talk about games on my blog. so i don’t know what i could’ve done to merit your hatred. maybe you dislike that i ask for basic courtesy or that i enforce rules given to me by artists? i’m always polite tho. hmm, mystery-desu! ✩‧₊˚

#asks #anon #personal #saltier than the dead sea #plz come because i have watermelon #(っ˘ڡ˘ς)#showing comic sans some love

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yamisnuffles · 4 years ago

Text

Dig Down

Part 9 of Too Much of a Good Thing

Hell comes to congratulate Crowley on the Spanish Inquisition. When Crowley's curiosity gets the better of him, he ends of shaken to the core.

Read on Ao3

“You, my friend, are a terrible model.”

Crowley arched an eyebrow at Leonardo. “What? How can anyone be a terrible model? All I have to do is sit about. Maybe you’re just a terrible artist.”

“Maybe so.” Leonardo laughed and set his sketch aside. “But I would hardly call what you do sitting.”

Crowley had one foot tucked underneath him and the other thrown over the arm of the chair. He was reasonably certain he hadn’t started in this position. He’d done his best to channel Aziraphale, back straight and hands folded neatly on his lap, when first Leonardo had started his drawing. He flung both of his legs out and used the momentum to stand. His floor length braid swung pendulously behind him.

“Can’t help it,” he said with an easy shrug. “Sitting around that long is unnatural.”

Leonardo gave him an appraising look. “What’s unnatural is the way you walk.”

Crowley stilled instantly. “What’s wrong with the way I walk?”

“I didn’t say it was wrong. Really, it’s quite pleasant to watch but it does make me long to see the muscle and bone beneath. There is certainly something intriguing going on there.”

Aziraphale had commented a few times on the way he walked. Then again, Aziraphale had also commented on his hands, his nose, his hair, his eye, his freckles, his knees, his teeth, and everything else about him. To hear it from another, he worried he didn’t look as convincingly human as he hoped. It made him conscious of every step to a degree that very nearly caused him to trip. He saved himself by leaning against the table where Leonardo’s sketch had been cast aside.

He plucked the red chalk drawing up between long, spindly, ostensibly human fingers and examined it with eyes he knew were not a color found amongst mortal men. The face was cleverly rendered but everything from the shoulders down was decidedly more gestural.

“Mind if I take this?”

Leonardo dismissed the image with a wave. “Go right ahead. I can hardly use it for anything, though perhaps you can repay me by sitting for a portrait. Your face makes for a good study, even if the rest of you refuses to behave. You’d make an interesting angel, I think.” When Crowley sputtered incoherently in response, Leonardo laughed again. “A piece I was commissioned for,” he explained. “Or, part of one, anyway. For now, I have other work to do and I’m sure you’re eager to get back to your angel.”

Crowley felt his cheeks burn. Rather than try for a reply he knew would only come out as a garbled mess, he carefully rolled up the drawing and bobbed his head in thanks. “Well, whenever you want to get that portrait done, you know where to find me,” he said as he hastily made his exit from the studio. He could only take so much embarrassment in one day and he was sure Aziraphale had stored some up for him back at their villa.

Once he was out of the busy streets of Milan, he snapped his fingers. A note appeared, tucked into the drawing. A gift from our mutual friend, it read, to help you anticipate my return home. A grin and another snap sent it ahead. He could have gone with it but he enjoyed walking the Italian countryside. It put him in mind of breathless, startled confessions of love and kisses under the stars that added a spring to his step. He couldn’t bring himself to worry if that walk was passably human or not. He was all but skipping down the sun baked road when the smell of something putrid wafted through the summer air. He skidded to a halt just in time to avoid tripping over Hastur as he rose up through the hard packed dirt.

Crowley scowled. He should have miracled himself home and saved himself the trouble. He could very well still leave but if Hastur was bothering him, it was for a reason. It always was. It was also always something miserable that he didn’t want Aziraphale dragged into. He’d had a few hundred year’s peace after their initial meeting and, while Hastur hadn’t come around with any more job offers, he usually bore information. Wretched, gut wriggling stuff that Crowley was probably better off not knowing but could never seem to resist.

He had enough time to collect himself, to cross his arms and pretend at calm. Annoyance. He knew he could fight if he needed but he really preferred not to. Luckily it had been some time since a demon had forced him to it. Chances were today would be no different. All the same, he’d keep himself wound and ready, should it come to it.

Hastur emerged fully with a sneer already on his face. Crowley resisted the urge to push him right back down into the earth and instead asked, “What do you want? You’re sort of ruining my attempt to enjoy the fresh air.”

The corners of Hastur’s mouth widened slow and sloppily as the filth he reeked of until it formed a too wide smile. “Just came to congratulate you, Crowley. You’ve really outdone yourself this time.”

Crowley merely blinked. He couldn’t think of anything of note that he’d done in the past couple of centuries. Really, he’d been remarkably good, even by his own sometimes nebulous standards. He’d helped inspire a saint or two, been a patron of the arts, and had handed out the occasional blessing. Mostly he whiled away the time with Aziraphale, wherever they found themselves living as Aziraphale did jobs for Heaven. He’d even taken on a few of Aziraphale’s jobs, first as a way to let Aziraphale chase his own pursuits and then simply because he’d wanted to. Aside from helping a fellow angel skip work, he’d practically been a model angel.

“Hit your head on the way up from Hell, did you? I haven’t done anything.”

“Don’t be so modest. Weaponizing questions, really. Everyone Downstairs is impressed with this one. I’m almost jealous.”

Crowley felt a prickling down his spine. Something about this put his teeth on edge. Other than the obvious, that it was Hastur speaking to him, he didn’t know what it was about this that made him so uneasy. He wanted urgently to be home with Aziraphale. It wasn’t just the usual desire to be with his husband but something deeper than his bones. Deep as his very essence. This was the sort of warning urge that had sent him deep into the stars, once upon a time, a warning that things would shift irreparably if he did not act.

He shook the stiffness from his limbs. No need to be tense. No need to run. It was just Hastur and whatever he was babbling about. He hadn’t done anything- he really hadn’t- and nothing the demon said would change that. He took a step to walk around the demon. “If you’re done…”

Hastur angled himself to stop Crowley. He would have grabbed him if Crowley hadn’t already been on the defensive and ready to slip away. “Tell me how you did it? How’d you talk the humans into this Inquisition in Spain?”

- - - -

Crowley wasn’t sure what day it was. He wasn’t sure where he was but the near empty bottle in his hand implied a tavern or something of the sort. Usually drinks were poured into cups, though, so there was a chance he’d grabbed a bottle and taken it somewhere. That, or someone had let him simply drink from the bottle. Either way, probably not any sort of fine establishment. He wasn’t sure if he felt good or bad, either, but that was by design— don’t feel anything, don’t think. Seemed to be working fantastically judging by the fact that he could neither see, sit, nor think straight.

“There you are.”

That voice was familiar. Made something warm settle into the sloshing sea of alcohol in his system. “Here I am,” he agreed.

“Perhaps you should stop drinking a moment and look at me.”

Crowley sank down to embrace the bottle. The glass was cool against the side of his face. It felt nice. “Nah. Think I’ll just stay like this,” he said. Or, tried to say, judging by the slurred garble that slipped out of his mouth.

There was a long sigh. “Crowley.”

The bottle was carefully pried from his grip. He tried to resist, muttered a few choice curses, but was easily left slumped against his own folded arms. A gentle hand landed on his right elbow and when he turned to look at it, a face came into view. It took a moment for him to focus well enough to bring any of the features clarity but it could have stayed a bright, blessed blur and he would have known that face anywhere.

He picked up his head and beamed. “Ziraphale, s’good to see you.”

“I’m surprised you can see anything, judging by the state of you. Why don’t we get you home?”

Crowley shook his head. He abruptly stopped when the whole world seemed to shake with it. “Nope. Too drunk. Would probably discorpra- discapor- die if I tried a miracle.”

“Well then, why don’t you sober up?”

Aziraphale’s voice was low, sharp, and even. It was the sort of voice that in any other situation would have had Crowley worried but he’d done too good a job of getting rid of silly things like worries at least half a dozen bottles ago. Maybe more. He’d lost track after the first five or fifteen.

“Told you,” he said, resting his chin in the palm of one hand, “no miracles. B’sides, I don’t wanna.”

Aziraphale stared at him. “You don’t want to?”

“Nope.”

Crowley popped the ‘p’ and then repeated the sound until he fell into a fit of giggles.

“Then allow me—”

Everything was too murky for Crowley to remember why exactly the idea of sobering up sent his heart pounding and his stomach plummeting but he instantly snatched Aziraphale’s wrist to stop it from happening.

“No.”

“If you really feel so strongly about it, I won’t. Can you at least tell me why?”

Crowley opened his mouth. Closed it. Shook his head. Every time he reached toward the source of that feeling, something fractured and threatened to fall away completely.

He heard another long sigh. An arm wrapped around his back and another under his legs. Suddenly he was being carried. The lift into the air made him dizzy. He buried his face in Aziraphale’s chest. His shirt smelled nice. Like… flowers or something. Something pretty and nice. Like Aziraphale.

“You smell nice.”

“I’m glad,” Aziraphale replied flatly. “Do you have a room?”

“Dunno.”

“You don’t— where have you been staying all this time?”

“Dunno. Has it been a long time?”

Yet another sigh. Crowley felt like he should start taking count.

“It’s been over a week since I expected you back.” They started moving and Crowley had to squeeze his eyes shut to stop feeling dizzy. “Well then, if you don’t have a room and you won’t let me sober you up, what do you say to me bringing us both back home?”

Home. For much of his existence that had been a moving target with Aziraphale as a constant center. It didn’t need to be a physical place, the heart of it would always exist someplace beyond, but at the moment it was. More importantly, it was somewhere away from here. Whether he could articulate why he didn’t want to be here any longer, he knew how happy he was at the thought of leaving, particularly in Aziraphale’s arms.

Crowley hummed appreciatively and pressed in as close as he was able. There would always be a part of him that worried he would forget this form if he shifted back into his serpentine one but he missed the simplicity of it. He could never feel quite so much as a snake and he could instead rest easier, coiled around Aziraphale’s shoulders. Maybe he still would, when he sobered. He knew that Aziraphale would love him no matter his shape. It might not be better but it would be easier and, at the moment, that sounded very tempting.

There was a feeling of compression and then expansion as a miracle sent them both home. Instantly Crowley was inundated by the rich smell of oak from Aziraphale’s heavy wooden desk with a whiff on top of ink and parchment. He remembered the sound of wind rustling through the olive trees and the scratch of a quill as Aziraphale passed the nights writing while Crowley slept. Or tried to, anyhow. Oftentimes he would lay with one eye open and watch Aziraphale work by candlelight.

He thought of those nights as Aziraphale laid him on a bed that was far more comfortable than it had any right to be. Aziraphale took a seat on the edge of the mattress. Apparently neither of them was willing to break the silence that had fallen between them. Instead, Aziraphale quietly ran his fingers through Crowley’s hair. Or tried, as he got caught in hair that had managed to tangle despite being braided.

“When was the last time you brushed your hair?” Aziraphale asked as he drew his hand back to himself. “Or bathed? Or did anything to care for yourself?”

“You said I’ve been gone over a week? Then, uh, yeah. Probably something like that. S’not like we need to bathe or anything. Not like humans do.”

“You do if you’re going to soak yourself in alcohol and drunken humans.”

Crowley groaned and buried his face in a pillow. As it happened, an angel’s metabolism didn’t allow for passing out drunk, or that had been his experience over the last however many days of attempting to reach blissful oblivion. Maybe he could sleep, though. That might be alright.

He forgot why he’d been avoiding sleep until it overcame him. He’d gotten complacent since his marriage to Aziraphale. Even in the worst of times, life with his Principality had been a waking dream and the sleeping world had shaped itself accordingly. But the world wasn’t painted in only soft shades of cream and powdery blue, sometimes it was the harsh, steely grey of cruel human ingenuity or the slick scarlet shine of blood. The blood wouldn’t wash from his hands no matter how ferociously he scrubbed. It gathered under his nails, stained his skin, and blemished the band of gold around his finger.

Then there were the screams. They were never ending. If he pressed his palms tight as he could over his ears, they still rattled through his bones. He suspected he would continue hearing them even if he banished his ears altogether with a miracle. He just wanted them to stop. He screamed for them to stop. He begged and pleaded like he had for little else in his long existence.

Silence returned with two words. “Wake up.”

Crowley’s eyes snapped open. He breathed in gulps through a raw and ragged throat. He looked impulsively at his hands but they were clean. The screams had been his own, the blood imagined, and yet he couldn’t seem to free himself of the sensation of either. He rubbed senselessly at his forearms until a pair of arms encircled him like a vice and forced him to stop.

“It’s alright, dearest. You’re alright.”

“It’s alright? I’m alright?” he repeated, each statement transforming into a question in the mouth of a non-believer.

“Yes. I’m here. You’re safe.”

This time there was no doubt. There never would be, not in Aziraphale. He relaxed into Aziraphale’s arms. “Yes.”

“How about a bath?” A snap and the scent of lavender filled the suddenly humid air. “I’ll take care of it. All you’ll have to do is relax.”

Crowley let out a hollow puff of laughter. “Is that all?”

Aziraphale gripped him by the shoulders and sat him up so that they were face to face. There were tears obscuring his storm grey eyes. “Then you don’t need to do even that. Simply let me take care of you as best I can, alright?”

Crowley nodded when his throat tightened too much to make a reply. He loathed seeing Aziraphale cry.

Aziraphale helped him to his feet and out of his clothes. Each article of clothing was removed with more care than it deserved, stiff and smelling as it all did of a week’s worth of drinking in whatever establishment would have him. If he thought too closely on that he was liable to consider once more what had driven him to drink in the first place and, for Aziraphale’s sake, he was determined to at least try to relax.

He set his eyes on their bath. It was a lovely thing made of delicate white marble. Carved on the outside were scenes of angels dancing and drinking and generally having a lot more fun than real ones did. Bathing came and went in vogue with humans, but Aziraphale had developed a special fondness for it in Rome and so they’d kept a private bath wherever they settled since. Such, he supposed, was the luxury of not worrying whether the locals had plumbing anymore or not. One quick miracle and they had a full tub with steam that rolled in easy clouds off the surface.

“Come now,” Azirphale said as he took one of Crowley’s hands, “let’s see if this helps you any.”

Crowley let Aziraphale lead him to the bathtub and then climbed in without letting go of Aziraphale’s hand until he’d lowered himself most of the way down. Aziraphale carefully undid the braided hair that trailed after Crowley like a train. Once done, he gathered it up into a careful coil and deposited it in the water with Crowley. The water rose to the edge but didn’t spill over. It was just enough for Crowley and not a drop more.

Crowley let out a long, trembling breath as the hot water worked its wonders on him. He wasn’t quite as fond of bathing as Aziraphale but he did very much enjoy the act of being bathed. It was a bit like sleeping, without the danger of nightmares. Instead it was the very best sort of dream, shaped by the one he loved the most. Strong, calloused hands worked at the tense muscles in his shoulders and scented water poured over his head from a glittering copper vessel. The ritual of it was a comfort bordering on the sacred.

Aziraphale rubbed a small dab of scented oil on Crowley’s temples. “I got Leonardo’s sketch,” he said.

“I should hope so,” Crowley replied, “or I would have to worry my miracles are starting to go awry.”

Aziraphale nudged Crowley into a seated position so that he could better comb out water loosened tangles. “It was quite lovely. I do hope that you told him that and that you thanked him for his patience. I could tell you were as restless as ever at your sitting.”

“Er—” Had he thanked Leonardo? He couldn’t remember. “Oh! He asked me to come back for a proper portrait. Said I’d make a good angel.”

Aziraphale laughed softly. “At least someone thinks so.” The comb hit a snag and was replaced for a moment by careful fingers. “I don’t know how you managed this.”

“Dunno.”

“You do have a talent for finding trouble.”

When one segment was finished, Aziraphale moved to the next and the next in meticulous fashion. Crowley’s eyes fell closed as he sank into the comfortable rhythm of it. He felt like a bit of flotsam tossing gently in the waves without a care in the world.

“I suppose this hair is what put Leonardo in mind of angels,” Aziraphale continued. “I don’t think you’ve had it this long since Eden.”

Crowley opened his eyes again as he pulled himself from his quiet reverie. “I mean, I was a snake for quite a while after that, so hair was sort of off the metaphorical table.”

“Indeed. But… it’s nice. I like it quite a bit when it’s this long. Of course you know how I love it no matter the length—” Crowley ignored the burn in his cheeks and Aziraphale continued to comb. “—but it’s nice to remember simpler times.”

“For the, what, handful of minutes we had them?”

“Even so.”

Simpler times. Crowley hardly remembered them. Yes, he’d forever recall his first sight of the delightfully soft Principality, high on the eastern wall of Eden, when he’d been nothing more than an out of place Seraph with perhaps a few too many questions on his lips. But any memory of that time was overshadowed by what came after. And then what came after that. And after that. And on and on and on despite all the good mixed in.

Crowley pulled his knees up and hugged them close. “Hey, so, uh, with my rude awakening earlier, I think I’ve sobered up enough to, er…” He ran his tongue over his teeth and pressed extra hard on his left incisor, which had always run a bit sharper. He didn’t want to talk about it but it was a dark and hungry secret that he worried would devour him from the inside out if he didn’t. “I remember everything, if you wanna hear about it.”

Aziraphale stilled for a moment and then continued combing Crowley’s hair. “Only if you want. You can take whatever time you need.”

“No, I should— I want to now. Maybe then I can start to forget without an ocean of alcohol to help me along.”

Crowley squeezed his eyes shut but when he did, he could see that faces of humans contorted beyond recognition by unfathomable pain. It was no wonder Hell was impressed. The humans were up here serving up the sort of punishments even demons might not have dreamed of. He looked instead at his hands beneath the surface of the water and reminded himself that they were not stained in blood. He tried to remind himself also that they were clean of any guilt in this, but he was less successful on that count.

“So,” he continued when Aziraphale didn’t make any response, “ran into Hastur on the way home.”

“What did that wretched demon do this time? If he’s the one that caused all this, I’ll… I’ll… well, let me think on it but it will be suitably ghastly, I assure you.”

“No, it’s not— he didn’t do anything. Well, guess he did but not like that. Not that I’m against the idea of you laying down some holy wrath on him, if you’re so inclined. But I’m—” Water splashed as he gestured broadly at himself. “Because, well, how much have you heard about the Spanish Inquisition?” He only waited half a heartbeat before charging on. “Hell thinks I cooked it up, since it’s all being done in Her name and with the whole, you know, inquisitive nature of it. Aziraphale, it’s awful.” He emptied his lungs into that word and still it didn’t seem to be enough. “Monstrous. Wretched. Abominable. Really, really… bad. I’d say hellish but apparently they hadn’t even thought up half the things these humans have. Got the impression they’re taking notes.”

“Oh.” Aziraphale’s voice sounded so small behind him. “Oh, Crowley. Why did you go look?”

“Had to, didn’t I? If everyone thinks I did it, I should at least know what I’m getting my name on.”

Aziraphale’s hands fell away from Crowley’s hair as he rushed around to the side of the bath. “But you didn’t have anything to do with it! You know you didn’t, my dear, so why torment yourself over what a pitiable bunch of damned creatures think?”

“Well, it’s not like they’re completely out of bounds thinking I’d gone and corrupted the humans again, are they?”

“It’s not— Crowley, how many times are we going to have to have this argument? You can’t take all of humanity’s sins on your shoulders.”

“I can try.”

“You certainly can and I know that you do, but I wish you wouldn’t. The humans will do whatever they will do, for good or ill. You know that. Not even the Almighty can stop that.”

“Why the blazes not?”

Aziraphale froze except for a sudden fluttering of his lashes. “What?”

“Why can’t She put a stop to this? They’re committing atrocities in Her name. She’s fucking well put a foot down in the past, drowning a whole load of people and—”

“Stop!” The walls of the villa shook at the command and for a moment Aziraphale seemed much larger. He shrank back down as he grabbed either side of Crowley’s face. “Stop, please. Not another word like that.”

Aziraphale crushed their lips together in a fierce kiss. He kept kissing until Crowley no longer had the mind or breath to argue further.

“Please,” Aziraphale said once more. “Not this. If there’s one thing in the entirety of existence you don’t question, let it be this. For me.”

Crowley could feel the drip of tears onto bath wet skin as their foreheads pressed together. He wanted for all the world to agree to that. Even being able to lie about it felt like it would be a weight off his shoulders. His life— their lives— would be so much easier if he could. If he could just trust in whatever damned plan there was, he might not have spent the last week drunk out of his mind.

He pulled back enough to look Aziraphale in the eyes and frowned at what he saw. “I made you cry again.” He bent forward and kissed the tear tracks off round, ruddy cheeks. “I’m sorry, angel. I won’t say anything like that again. Not to you.”

Aziraphale’s brows lowered over watery eyes. “Not to anyone.”

“Right. Not to anyone.” Crowley sank into the bath and deeper into himself with a hunch of his shoulders. “I promise I’ll try not to even think on it, not ever again. I just want to be with you and to be happy with that.”

Aziraphale laced their left hands together so that their rings pressed together. “You have me and you always will.”

#good omens #good omens au #go au: tmgt #crowley #anthony j crowley #aziraphale #angel!crowley #my writing #fic

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amphtaminedreams · 4 years ago

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If We Can’t Have the Parties, At Least We Have the Coats: Lookbook no.13

Hi to anyone reading,

It’s been a weird winter, right?

A winter that I REALLY did not need to buy as many clothes for as I have. You WILL save loads of money during this lockdown, I told myself. You WILL. And yet here I am in December, in exactly the same financial position I was in March. You would think that making the switch to an environmentally friendly wardrobe would mean I own less but now I no longer have the guilt of supporting fast fashion to hold me back, I’ve accumulated more clothes than ever. Part of a sustainable wardrobe is also about reducing your consumption so now I’ve mostly made the move towards only supporting transparent companies/small businesses, I can move onto the buying less part. I haven’t thrown any clothes away but still, I am not the clothes rescuer I think I am-more just an overdraft abuser. To add to that, for those of us actually following the rules (half the people I went to secondary school with flaunting their apparently unaffected social lives on Instagram, I’m looking at you) there aren’t actually all that many opportunities to wear new outfits. Not to go too first world problems, but it is a little shit when getting dressed up and doing your makeup is one of the things that you do to help you feel a little better, especially when the seasonal (and situational in these times) depression kicks in.

So yes, I have been extra af recently and combatted this with the decision to start making an effort to outfit plan for the most basic of tasks. We’re talking a full face of makeup and accessories for going into town to get a coffee or to meet a friend for a walk. I mean, I still go to Tesco in my trackies but if I’m seeing somebody else, I am sure as hell going to treat it as a reason to wear something nice. See the winter outfits section of the lookbook as your inspiration to do the same because I can guarantee you the sense of normality forcing yourself to take makeup off at the end of the day brings will actually make you feel a lot better. Genuinely the mark of exceptional times. We’ve also got the few days relief period over Christmas in the UK where we’re allowed to mix with a maximum of 3 other households, and ignoring the fact that it doesn’t really make any sense given that the number of people you could end up mixing with depends on the size of the households and is realistically completely arbitrary (I have a lot of feelings about how fucking moronic half the decisions this government has been making are but then again, what’s new?), I’m sure those of you with big families are gonna be partying. I’m only spending Christmas with my immediate family but I thought I’d put some more festive outfits together anyway. I know, I know, it sounds like I’m just bullshitting an explanation as to why I put this lookbook together when in reality I’m trying to make myself feel better about the damage to my bank account buuuut it really is more a case of being inspired by my Depop finds and if you are trying to quit fast fashion, I can’t recommend the app enough (especially if you know what you’re looking for). As I did in the last lookbook, I will make sure to include the tags of all the people I bought these pieces from but I also thought it might be helpful to make a note of some of the descriptors I used to find them so you can get more of an idea how to find the things you’re looking for too, as well as prices. I did include the names of the shops I bought the few fast fashion items I styled from too, mostly earlier this year or at some point over the last couple of years, on the basis that they may be a useful search prompt if you’re looking for something similar or the exact item-the majority are no longer available (disclaimer: I haven’t bought anything from Boohoo in a longgg time) to buy but you might be able to find an account that’s selling a used version. Don’t be put off by that-I’ve had to wash a couple of pieces but for the most part, that hasn’t been necessary. Charity shops usually wash things before they put them out, so you have nothing to worry about there either-I expect that they’re particularly thorough at the moment considering the COVID crisis.

Enough rambling from me for now! Enjoy!

-(SOCIALLY DISTANCED) PARTY SZN LOOKS-

Powder Blue Wide Brim Felt Hat/Fedora: £16.99

Structured White Mesh Oh Polly Mini Dress w/Ruched Detail: £27

Black PVC Beret w/Red Flame Detail: £14

Red Fit and Flare Dress w/Satin Corset & Tulle Skirt: £12

Black PVC Vintage Platform Boots w/Red Flame Detail: £27

White Satin Corset w/Straps: £8

Pinstripe Cropped Blazer Co-ord Set: £12.50

Oh Mighty Strappy Contrast Corset: £27

Contrast Check Cigarette Trousers: £15

Pink Topshop Gingham Blazer Co-ord Set BNWT: £35

White Strappy Corset w/Suspender Detail: £10

White PVC Beret w/Black Flame Detail: £14

Reworked Strappy Patchwork Sports Cropped Tee: £10

Black Combat Cargo Trousers: £5

Strappy Tie-dye Pretty Little Thing Corset BNWT: £15

PVC/Vinyl Zip-up Mini Skirt w/Belt Detail: £9

White Satin Cowl Neck Mini Slip Dress: £8

Urban Outfitters ‘90s Style Celestial Print Mesh Babydoll Dress: £15

-(SOMETIMES PRACTICAL) COAT SZN LOOKS-

UNIF Colour Block Oversized Jumper/Sweater: £25

Topshop Dark Wash Denim Kick Flare Jeans w/Frayed Hem Detail: £16

Vintage ‘70s Style Brown Faux Suede Western Blazer/Jacket: £15

Black Velvet High Neck Bodysuit w/Keyhole Detail: £4

Topshop Paisley Print Chiffon Midi Dress: £15

Brandy Melville Cropped Motorcross Slogan Slogan Tee: £13.60

Ragged Priest Gingham Cargo/Combat Trousers w/Utility Style Buckle Detailing: £33

Black Kappa Logo Beanie: £12

White Platform FILA Disruptors in Good Condition: £55

Black Fur Bucket Hat: £8

Celestial Silver Moon Detail Chain Belt: £18

Black Satin Cowl Neck Detail Midi Slip Dress: £15

Floral Print Platform Boots: £10

Blue Denim ASOS High Rise Mom Jeans: £12

Brown Vintage ‘70s Style Afghan Coat w/Fur Trim: £25

Teal Wide Brim Felt Hat/Fedora: £10

Topshop Floral Print A-Line Jacquard Mini Skirt: £7

Lana Del Rey Screen Printed T-Shirt: £9.99

Vintage Corduroy Contrast Stripe Trousers w/Kick Flare: £28

Anyone that read to the end, thank you so much as always and I hope this shows just how many in-trend pieces you can find second hand! I know I'm SUPER far behind to the point where it’s closer to the F/W2021 shows now than it is since the S/S2021 collections were showcased but I decided I am going to do a full length fashion week review. I also have a few moodboards planned and my next is gonna be one focussing purely on plus sized fashion as the feedback that I got from my New Style Icons post was that I could have included more bigger girls; I am so, so, SO passionate about body positivity and fat acceptance, especially since I know my own relationship with my body would be so much better if this kind of movement was more prominent when I was younger, so I don’t for a minute want anyone to think it was my intention to be exclusionary in any way. It bears repeating that I genuinely appreciate feedback in any form (as long as it’s not too mean and presumptive, lol) and I hope the next post doesn’t disappoint! It hasn’t been a good year for cinema due to COVID having lead to theatre closures, however I still do want to do another film tier ranking in the new year as that is something I really enjoyed doing last time. Any more suggestions are welcome!

As always, my inbox is always open if you need someone to talk to or just wanna chat about a post:-) I am constantly on the look out for new blogs to follow and people to interact with so any communication is welcome. I’m not sure if I’ll get another post finished before we enter 2021, SO I wanna say that I hope everyone has a wonderful Christmas and that this shitshow of a year DOES come to an end at 11:59PM on the 31st because THOSE MEMES ABOUT IT TURNING DECEMBER THE 32ND ARE NOT FUNNY! Here’s to our second attempt at our first year of the roaring twenties (because this past year it feels like we skipped them and went straight to The Great Depression, the likely incoming recession denial is real) and to happier times and good health for everyone.

Lauren x

DISCLAIMER: Background in the first 2 images are mine, others are not. I found them on Pinterest so not sure of the artists but if you do know, drop me a message so I can credit them!

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dustedmagazine · 5 years ago

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Dust Volume 6, Number 5

Courtney Marie Andrews

The lockdown continues, and live music has disappeared, replaced by a somewhat antiseptic and unsatisfying spate of live streamed shows mostly one person with a guitar on the couch in their living room. We salute the courage and the effort but miss bands and audiences and even the chatter drifting in from the bar area. In the meantime, at least for now, there are still lots of new records vying for our attention. We present this Dust to catch up with some of them. It’s an ecletic survey of contemporary classical, vengeful hip hop, psyche, jazz, folk and metal artists, all continuing to try to navigate a very difficult period. Our writers this time include many of the usual suspects, Bill Meyer, Ray Garraty, Jonathan Shaw, Andrew Forell, Tim Clarke, Jennifer Kelly, Tobias Carroll and Patrick Masterson.

a•pe•ri•od•ic—For (New Focus Recordings)

for a•pe•ri•od•ic by a•pe•ri•od•ic

Silence is a rhythm, too, and a•pe•ri•od•ic dances to it repeatedly throughout their second recording. The Chicago-based ensemble has traversed the new music continuum, performing music by composers from Peter Ablinger to Christian Wolff. Sometimes that silence isn’t quite what you want to hear — the COVID-19 pandemic cut short its tenth anniversary spring season one concert too soon — but it proves to be rich loam from which to grow music on this CD. All four of its pieces were composed specifically for the group by individuals who recognize the merit of non-imposing sounds. That knowledge derives in part from the fact that three of the composers also perform with the group, but also from their long-standing engagement with post-Cage-ian and Wandelweiser material. Director and pianist Nomi Epstein’s descriptively entitled “Combine, Juxtapose, Delayed Overlap” feels like a ceremony intermittently perceived through an opening and closing door. Billie Howard’s “Roll” tucks the composer’s whispering violin behind muted French horn and voice, wringing intensity from the effort one must apply to following its retreating sonorities. Vocalist Kenn Klumpf’s “Triadic Expansions (2)” moves in the other direction, sprouting ivy-like from the slenderest branches of sound. By comparison, Michael Pisaro’s stately “festhalten/loslassen” is a veritable riot of unwinding tonal colors. As the decade ticks towards year eleven, rest assured that a•pe•ri•od•ic is searching for the next promising idea.

Bill Meyer

Agallah — Fuck You The Album (Propain Campain)

Fuck You The Album by Agallah

This is a personal vendetta album. After more than 25 years in the game, Agallah has got to settle the score against the whole world. To say he just has a chip on his shoulder would an understatement. Thirteen songs of pure hate with the title quite properly reflecting its content. In his fight, the rapper strips down all the artistry, including the production. Known for making beats for other hip hop acts, Agallah here not only uses barely serviceable beats, he doesn’t even makes pretense he needs beats. Almost all the tracks work as a capellas. His gruffy voice and arrogant flow don’t need sonic support. And what support can you expect from the world full of phonies, liars, actors, pretenders, cowards and fair weather friends? “Stop pretending, my career is not ending,” he almost screams on “Telling Lies To Me.” If this CD feels like a dinosaur in 2020, then it says that it is not something wrong with this album but with the world.

Ray Garraty

Courtney Marie Andrews — “Burlap String” single (Fat Possum)

Old Flowers by Courtney Marie Andrews

As the eponymous song of 2018’s May Your Kindness Remain amply demonstrated, Courtney Marie Andrews’ pipes are not to be fucked with. But while that was perhaps the most vivid depiction yet of her abilities, the Phoenix native’s delivery can be just as powerful on a muzzle. Such has been her approach thus far with what we’ve heard from Old Flowers, originally slated for an early June release but since pushed back to July (or beyond, who knows). The post-breakup lyrical territory was initially revealed with first single “If I Told,” but it’s the gently loping “Burlap String” I’ve had on repeat for much of the past month. Ever ended a relationship with someone and regretted it? Lush piano and a sighing slide guitar tell you Courtney has without her ever having to utter a word, and much of the song is an illustration of the internal conflict that lingers long after you’ve made the call. I’m inclined to write out the whole second verse here, but it’s the end of the third that lingers as Andrews evokes barely holding back tears: There’s no replacing someone like you. That ensuing pause runs bone-deep, its implication clear — no amount of Mary Oliver can save you from yourself.

Patrick Masterson

Dennis Callaci — The Dead of the Day (Shrimper Records)

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Some albums could be said to hum. In the case of the latest from Dennis Callaci, that’s meant literally: many of the songs on his new album The Dead of the Day feature warm clouds of feedback or droning organ notes. It’s a companion piece to his recent book 100 Cassettes, which features thoughts on musical icons throughout the year. This album’s focus is more insular: some of the songs have a drifting, improvised feel to them. But Callaci also taps into some terrifically subdued songwriting veins here — “Broadway Blues Pt. II” recalls the haunted dub-folk of Souled American, and Franklin Bruno’s piano lends a propulsive dimension to the ruminative title track. And on “Scoreless,” Callaci teams with his Refrigerator bandmate (and brother) Allen Callaci for a song that slowly builds from acoustic foundations to something modestly grandiose. Contrary to what its title might suggest, this album feels very much like a document of one man’s life.

Tobias Carroll

Cameron / Carter / Håker Flaten — Tau Ceti (Astral Spirits)

Tau Ceti by Cameron / Carter / Håker Flaten

Tau Ceti is a planet that is hypothesized to be similar enough to Earth that it could potentially support similar life forms. The three musicians that recorded this tape may come not come from the same system, but they fall into a harmonious orbit around a common circumstance — they were all in the same swanky studio, Halversonics, on a particular winter day in early 2019. One supposes that whatever they were rotating, they move towards the source of heat, since Tau Ceti builds slowly from chill acoustic exploration to a fuzzed-out solar flare. As they progress, abstraction burns away and velocity increases. It’s a gas to hear Ingebrigt Håker Flaten and Lisa Cameron lock in behind Tom Carter’s increasingly gritty sound-bursts.

Bill Meyer

Tim Daisy — Sereno (Relay)

Tim Daisy - Sereno :: music for marimba, turntables and percussion (relay 028) by Tim Daisy

Sometimes the timing of even the most tuned-in drummer is foiled by external circumstances. Sereno was supposed to signal the end of an intense phase of solo practice by Tim Daisy. His intentions for 2020 included making an album of duets and writing music for two ensembles. But at press time he, like everyone else, is hunkered down with his family, and everything he had planned is on hold.

Daisy’s stint as a primarily solo artist coincided with a reconsideration of identity; he wasn’t just a drummer, but a multi-instrumentalist and an orchestrator of electro-acoustic sound. Sereno is split between three elegiac marimba solos that showcase Daisy’s instinct for deliberate melodic development and five much denser constructions for imprecisely tuned radios, playing and skipping records, and Daisy’s strategically reflective drumming. If this record is the only new music that Daisy puts out this year, it leaves us with plenty to think about.

Bill Meyer

Kaja Draksler & Terrie Ex — The Swim (Terp)

On the surface, this looks like quite the odd couple. Terrie Ex Is a Dutch electric guitarist in his mid-60s who still goes by his punk rock name. He’s a ferocious improviser whose scrabbling instrumental attack incurs intensity from any ensemble that doesn’t want to get bowled over, and he knows more Ethiopian tunes by heart than anyone on your block. Kaja Draksler is a Slovenian pianist exactly half his age whose recent projects include a fast-paced, idiosyncratically balanced trio with Petter Eldh and Christian Lillinger, and an octet for which she sets Robert Frost poems to a combination of chanson, Baroque chamber music, and thorny free improvisation. But neither got where they are by letting fear deter them from a musical challenge, and both of them have a fine awareness that one way of understanding their respective instruments is that they are pieces of wood with wires attached. Given that common understanding of music as a combination of coexisting textures and assertive actions, they work together quite well on this CD, which documents a performance that took place at London’s Café Oto in 2018. Scrape meets sigh, jagged fish-hook pluck meets sparse wire-damped drizzle, instinct meets intuition, and when the disc is done, it’ll seem quite sensible to dive back in and swim the whole length in reverse.

Bill Meyer

Errant — S/T EP (Manatee Rampage Recordings)

errant by errant

Errant is the one-woman project of Rae Amitay. Some listeners of metal music may be familiar with Amitay’s work, as vocalist for death-grind-hybridists Immortal Bird and as drummer for the folk-metal act Thrawsunblat. For Errant, Amitay has created songs and sounds that have little in common with those other bands’ aesthetic extremities. “The Amorphic Burden” may prompt you to recall the melodic black metal that Ludicra was making toward the end of that band’s storied run, or the sludgy drama of Agrimonia’s most recent record. In any case, Errant’s sound skews toward more luminescent atmospheres. Production values are largely pristine; Amitay wants you to hear clearly every string and cymbal strike. It makes sense. She plays a bunch of instruments well, and that’s part of the point: that one woman is producing all the sounds, and all the affect. She ends the EP with a cover of Failure’s “Saturday Savior,” and it’s the least interesting thing on the record. But even there, she presents the listener with something worth hearing. Her clean vocals are lovely, disarmingly so. What may be most impressive about this early iteration of Errant is the extent of Amitay’s talents, and how those talents allow her to encroach on the hyper-masculine territory of the “one-man” act.

Jonathan Shaw

Field Works — Ultrasonic (Temporary Residence)

Ultrasonic by Field Works

Stuart Hyatt’s latest compilation in the Field Works series is an absolute beauty — and timely given it’s being released during a pandemic whose origins may be linked to bats. The field recordings that the contributors used to create the music on Ultrasonic come from the echolocation of bats, and the approaches tend towards rhythmic or atmospheric. At the rhythmic end of the spectrum we have Eluvium’s majestic opener “Dusk Tempi,” akin to his work on Talk Amongst the Trees. Mary Lattimore’s glimmering harp patterns are fitting accompaniment to the chittering bat sounds on “Silver Secrets.” And Kelly Moran’s prepared piano on “Sodalis” sends the listener down a hall of mirrors, chased by gorgeous bass tones. At the more abstract, atmospheric end of the spectrum we have Jefre Cantu-Ledesma’s radiant “Night Swimming.” Christina Vantzou blurs the line between the sounds of modular synthesis and bat sonar on “Music for a Room with Vaulted Ceiling.” And on Sarah Davachi’s “Marion,” the listener is immersed in a luminous halo of nocturnal overtones. Wherever the artists venture, this is a varied yet consistently evocative collection.

Tim Clarke

FMB DZ — The Gift 3 (Fast Money Boyz / EMPIRE)

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The Gift 3 was initially set to be released in December 2019 but was postponed until now. DZ’s “Merry Christmas, pussies!” on one of the tracks doesn’t sound so odd, though, because the whole world has plunged into a constant holiday. The new album continues two trends. It carries on the “ape” theme from the previous album Ape Season. “Ape Activities,” “Keep It on Me” and “No Features” are the grittiest tracks from a disc where the prevalent mood is a sick worry. DZ made it out of the hood but had to be on the lookout as the enemies are out to get him. The other trend is that The Gift 3 continues the ideas of The Gift series. The songs have a usual verse-hook structure, are poppier and more relaxed than on Ape Season. DZ, thankfully, doesn’t try to sing anymore but hires some singers on choruses. The hardest track here is “High Speed” with Rio Da Yung Og where Detroit/Flint duo spit vicious lines.

Ray Garraty

Hala — Red Herring (Cinematic)

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Detroit multi-instrumentalist Ian Ruhala wears his heart dripping from his sleeve on “Red Herring” his latest record as Hala. Skipping from the yacht rock of “Making Me Nervous” to the country blues of “True Colors” via power pop, The Kinks and Tom Petty, Ruhala manages to create a thread with deceptively simple melodies and the sincerity of his delivery. There’s more than a touch of Kevin Barnes in the voice and the delight in throwing genres at the wall to see what sticks and, like Barnes, some of it fails to adhere. The pleasure here is in the sense of eavesdropping on the process and reveling in unexpected flourishes that refuse to be ignored.

Ruhala writes a smooth love song and isn’t afraid to turn up the guitar or address politics on standout “Lies” - “I’m eating breakfast with the fascists/Oh man they stand about ten feet tall/My mouth is bleeding at their proceedings/They get their courage through a plastic straw” It may not be Guthrie but he makes it work through a leavening wit and a mid-tempo vamp straight from the solar plexus. “Red Herring” suffers somewhat from its stylistic roaming but a fundamental big heartedness and willingness to reach makes it an enjoyable trip.

Andrew Forell

Las Kellies — Suck This Tangerine (Fire)

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Suck This Tangerine opens with a loose groove and a grime smeared highlife guitar line, the voice enters with ironic invitations over choppy Gang of Four chords. In the new one from Las Kellies, Argentinian duo Cecilia Kelly and Silvina Costa sling taut bass lines and slash guitars over mutant disco rhythms for 12 tracks of slinky indie dance. Drawing on elements from Leeds, London and the Bronx, Kelly and Costa add dubby space and South American humidity to their sound, to elevate the album beyond the sum of its influences.

Kelly handles guitar and bass, wielding the former like a cross between Andy Gill and Viv Albertine and unfurling loose funky serpents with the latter. Costa swings between ESG and The Bush Tetras and incorporates an array of hand drums that deepen and enliven the rhythmic pulse. There is a palpable and joyful chemistry between the two evidenced by their easy interplay and enhanced by the production that gives clarity and elbowroom to each instrument. If the lyrics can tend toward the perfunctory, they are delivered with a winking insouciance on put downs like “Close Talker” and “Rid Of You”. Suck This Tangerine is a worthy addition to the growing collection of feminist post-punk inspired albums we’ve been dancing to of late.

Andrew Forell

Mint Mile — Ambertron (Comedy Minus One)

Ambertron by Mint Mile

Silkworm, the band, may have ended in 2005 with the death of drummer Michael Dahlquist, but its legacy of slow, gut-socking heaviness, mordant wit and muscular guitar lives on, first in Bottomless Pit and now in Tim Midyett’s new band Ambertron. Midyett’s voice and clangorous baritone guitar is instantly recognizable, of course, to anyone who loved Silkworm, but the band diverges somewhat with the pedal steel played by Justin Brown of Palliard, weaving eerily though the slow buzz and moan of “Likelihood.” Jeff Panall, from Songs:Ohio, plays the hard, heavy drums that undergird these songs, giving them structure and forward motion. Other players include Matthew Barnhart from Tre Orsi and Horward Draper from Shearwater. Greg Normal of Bitter Tears contributes a mournful bit of trumpet to “Fallen Rock,” and Chicago alt-country mainstay Kelly Hogan takes the lead in “Sang.” The music is raw and morose; even dense strings can’t quite lift the gloom in “Christmas Comes and Goes,” a song as raw as late November in Chicago. And yet there’s a sort of resilience in it, a strength that comes through persistence. “If we could only find a way to bank the time we had together,” sings Midyett in “Giving Love,” his hoarse voice full of ragged loss, his guitar raging against it all and not quite beaten down even now.

Jennifer Kelly

Gard Nilssen’s Supersonic Orchestra — If You Listen Carefully the Music Is Yours (Odin)

If You Listen Carefully The Music Is Yours by Gard Nilssen´s Supersonic Orchestra

Perched atop his drum stool, Gard Nilssen sits where styles converge. He’s supplied the controlled boil that drives the free-bop combo Cortex, laid down some heavier beats with Bushman’s Revenge and exemplified long-form lucidity with his own trio, Acoustic Unity. In 2019, the Molde Jazz Festival recognized his versatility and forward perspective by anointing him the artist in residence. Besides showcasing his ongoing projects and accompanying heavy guests from abroad, most notably Bill Frisell, he got to put together a dream project. This 16-piece big band, which includes members of Cortex, Acoustic Unity, and the Trondheim Jazz Orchestra, is it. With the assistance of co-arranger André Roligheten, Nilssen has taken some of his trio’s sturdy melodies and turned them into frameworks for boisterous but subtly colored performances. With three basses and three drummers, this could have been either a mess or an uptight game of “you first,” “no sir after you.” But the rhythm crew shifts easily between swinging unisons and refractory elaborations. Roligheten often plays two saxophones at once in smaller settings, and one suspects that he has a lot to do with the rich colors that the horns paint around the featured soloists.

Bill Meyer

Matthew J. Rolin — Ohio (Garden Portal)

Ohio by Matthew J. Rolin

The ghoulish image on the j-card belies the sounds encoded upon this tape. Matthew J. Rolin is a relative newcomer to the practice of acoustic guitar performance; the earliest release on his Bandcamp page was recorded in late 2017. But he’s catching on fast. Switching between six and twelve-string guitars, he serves up equal measures of ingratiating lyricism and immersive surrender to pure sound. Opener “Red Brick” slots into the former category, with a heart-tugging melody that keeps doling out turns that’ll keep you wondering where it’s going and backtracks that’ll ensure that you never feel lost. “Brooklyn Centre,” on the other hand, grows filaments of string sound out of a pool of prayer bowl resonance centering enough to make you cancel your mindfulness app subscription due to perceived lack of need. Rolin develops ideas situated between these poles over the rest of this brief set, which runs just shy of 28 minutes and definitely leaves one wanting a bit more.

Bill Meyer

Nick Storring — My Magic Dreams Have Lost Their Spell (Orange Milk)

My Magic Dreams Have Lost Their Spell by Nick Storring

What Jim O’Rourke did for the music of Van Dyke Parks and John Fahey on Bad Timing, Nick Storring does for Roberta Flack’s on My Magic Dreams Have Lost Their Spell. The Canadian composer may not have O’Rourke’s name recognition or past membership in a very famous rock band going for him, but consider these parallels. He’s a handy with quite a few instruments, he’s an inveterate assistant to other artists across disciplinary lines, and he functions with equal commitment and fluency in a variety of genres. For this record, his first to be pressed on vinyl (albeit in miniscule numbers), Storring uses the lush string sound of Flack’s 1970s hits as a launching point for deep sonic immersions that are considerably more emotionally oblique than their inspirations’ articulations of loneliness and surrender. When he goes melodic, the cello-led tunes seem to reach for something that they never touch, and when he goes for slow-motion density, the music imparts an experience akin to watching the sort of cinematic experience where you can’t tell if you’re seeing a really slow take or the film has frozen at a single frame.

Bill Meyer

Sunn Trio — Electric Esoterica (Twenty One Eight Two Recording Company)

Electric Esoterica by Sunn Trio

Sunn Trio, from Arizona, makes sprawling, multi-ethnic psychedelia that juxtaposes the scree and groan of heavy improvisational rock with the otherly chords and rhythms of the Middle East. Opener “Alhiruiyn” slicks a trebly sheen over its surging, rampaging improvisations, more in the vein of Black Sun Ensemble than Cem Karaca. But “Majoun” layers antic percussion and tone-shifting bent notes in a limber evocation of the souk. “Roktabija The Promulgator” blasts a strident, swaggering surf riff, about as Arabic as “Miserlou” (which is, in fact, Arabic). “Khons at Karnak” buzzes with hard rock aggression, but shimmies with belly dancing syncopation. Because of the name, the preoccupation with non-Western cultures and the Phoenix mailing address, you might think that Sunn Trio is aligned somehow with Sun City Girls, but no. All kinds of weirdness lurks in the desert out there, lucky for us.

Jennifer Kelly

Turbo, Gunna & Young Thug — “Quarantine Clean” single (Playmakers)

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Despite the subject matter’s potential (ahem) virality, “Quarantine Clean” slipped out almost unnoticed in early April and is the kind of muted performance Young Thug doesn’t get enough credit for (while, curiously, his followers often get too much derision for). For all of Thugger’s hyperfluorescent hijinx over the years that have produced earworms like, say, “That’s All” and “Wyclef Jean,” there’s another side that shows up in stuff like “The Blanguage” and “Freaky” where he lets the words do the work; that’s the subterranean sonic world we’re living in here as he opines on God’s role in the pandemic and why he’s lost so much money but still has to pay for his parents’ penthouse (which: welcome to the revolution, pal). Thug’s acolyte in slime Gunna, meanwhile, does most of the song’s heavy lifting with duties on the first verse and chorus, but it’s pretty hard to tell the two apart, such is the slippery restraint both opt to exercise here. The real star, then, is beatmaker Turbo, whose buoyant anchor melody is complemented by what sounds like a lilting flute. It’s a light touch from all parties, a mellow mood well suited to our time of collective party-eschewing shelter. Run that back in prudence.

Patrick Masterson

Various Artists—Ten Years Gone (A Tribute to Jack Rose) (Tompkins Square)

Ten Years Gone : A Tribute to Jack Rose by Various Artists

A decade on from the too early passing of the great American Primitive/blues/raga player Jack Rose, Arborea’s Buck Curran gathers friends, collaborators and younger artists inspired by Rose for a gorgeous tribute to the master. Mike Gangloff, who played with Rose in Pelt and Black Twig Pickers, leads off with a plaintive, sepia-toned fiddle lament (“The Other Side of Catawbwa”), while next generation experimental droner Prana Crafter closes with an expansive, space folk reverie (“High Country Dynamo”). In between, old friends like Sir Richard Bishop evoke Rose’s full-blown orchestral guitar playing (“By Any Other Name”) while young pickers like Matt Sowell take up the trail forged by Dr. Ragtime. Isasa from Spain and Paulo Laboule Novellino from Italy attest to Rose’s global appeal. It’s mostly guitar, but not entirely; Helena Espvall from Espers contributes a brooding, reverberant “Alcantara” on cello. Curran’s own “Greenfields of America (Spiritual for Jack Rose)” is slow and thoughtful, letting long bent notes ring out with liquid clarity; it’s a hymn and a prayer and a testimony to the wide influence of an artist gone too soon.

Jennifer Kelly

Emily Jane White — Immanent Fire (Talitres)

Immanent Fire by Emily Jane White

Emily Jane White gets tagged as a folk singer, but on this, her sixth full-length, the Oakland songwriter brings a fair amount of goth-tinged drama. Taut string arrangements and big booming drums lift “Infernal” well out of the woman-with-guitar category, and White sounds more like PJ Harvey or even Chelsea Wolfe than a sweet voiced strummer. Immanent Fire sticks, topically, to environmental concerns with track titles like “Washed Away,” “Drowned” and “Metamorphosis.” A foreboding creeps through the songs, pretty as they are, even piano lit “Dew” asks “Does poison drop like the dew?” Arrangements, by Anton Patzner, the composer, arranger and violinist of Foxtails Brigade and Judgment Day, give these cuts weight and heft, punctuating eerie melodies with thick swathes of strings, rumbling percussion and keyboards. The disc culminates in “Light” which begins in a whisper and climaxes in drum-shocked, orchestral swoon. Soothing background music it is not.

Jennifer Kelly

Z-Ro — Quarantine: Social Distancing (1 Deep Entertainment / EMPIRE)

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An unexpected seven-track EP bears an expected title from a Dirty South legend. Z-Ro’s usual topics — trust and loneliness — gain a new meaning in the time of social distancing. To keep away women who only want his money is a necessary precaution now. To be at the corner at the party is a rule for survival. Z-Ro is on his ground counting his dough alone in the house. Earlier he did it so no ‘shife’ (the title of one of the tracks) friends could rob him, now it’s just to obey quarantine rules. The first half of this EP is a bit muddled by unnecessary intros and reggae tunes but the second one hits hard. As always with Z-Ro, the hardest content takes the gentlest form (“Niggas is Hoes” especially is almost a pop song). On the final track “Life of the Party” Boosie Badazz drops by, giving his verdict on the pandemic: “Fuck Corona!”

Ray Garraty

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belillinafireseeker · 5 years ago

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Numb performance

This was written with @seetheotherways and performed at @howlingowl-wra‘s poetry night on 1-10-20

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Bella walks out onto the stage carrying an electric keyboard piano and wearing an outfit that is rather unlike her regular ensembles. The long black dress is devoid of any sparkle. It is obviously hand tailored and form fitting to her. The strapless dress is accented with a sheer piece of fabric covering the left side of the dress and covers her back before hanging out from under a wide belt at the stomach area. Matching black satin opera length gloves cover most of her arms and barely peeking out from under the dress Bella has on a pair of black satin near-flat shoes. The only jewelry she wears is a braided leather bracelet with a brilliant siberite tourmaline and a simple silver heart locket with an icon of a gold tree with a shield on the front of it.

Setting up the keyboard on the stand and pulling up a stool from the back of the stage, but continues to stand as she looks over towards the other side of the stage, “I’d also like to thank Laeda for coming and helping out with this. I couldn’t have put this on without her assistance.” Holding her hand out towards the woman she smiles to her with a grateful look in her eyes. The entrance of the other was muted in comparison to the others, having stepped aside from from her yammering, even strides brought her onyx leather-clad form alongside the other woman. A flippant toss of dark curls was given over her shoulder, jade gaze haunted as it peered out over the crowd despite the soft simper that lingered. The acoustic guitar strapped to her back was new, save for several carvings that look to be handmade by the woman in a rather shoddy fashion. She was no artist. Another breath caught, maneuvering the instrument around to grip tightly with a nod of approval given to Bella. Bella wraps her arm lightly around Laeda and squeezes her lightly before heading over to her keyboard and having a seat at it. Then taking a rather deep breath in and out she shoots a glance over towards Laeda before placing her fingers down on the keys, speaking in slightly hushed tones, “This song is rather personal to me since I grew up with a parent who did everything this song speaks of and I feel blessed that I have found so many people that have helped me move past all of that and be able to sing of it now. So without further adieu, this song is called Numb and it’s by a band that I really like very much.”

Laeda gave a wolfish smirk, turning to press a gentle kiss to the other woman’s cheek, an expression of anguish on her features for the briefest of moments before moving to where a stool and microphone had been set up behind. If anything were to be bothering the woman aside from the lapse, it was entirely vanished now. Once Bella’s introduction to the song was finished, her fingers began to twitch in anticipation of the first notes that would breathe life into the performance. She shifted uncomfortably, eyes lowered to the stage floor while gloves were cast aside to give sight of bruised hands in favor of strumming the first notes to life.

Bella’s fingers plunk out the first few notes, harmonizing with the other woman after closing her eyes lightly. Repeating the melody a couple of times before leaning forward towards the microphone attached to the keyboard. Ringing out softly, Bella’s voice slowly raises in volume as she sings along with the two ladies playing, “I’m tired of being what you want me to be. Feeling so faithless, lost under the surface. Don’t know what you’re expecting of me. Put under the pressure of walking in your shoes. Every step that I take is another mistake to you.” Holding on to the last note for a few moments, she closes her eyes and winces slightly from the lyrics.

Laeda‘s darkened gaze remained downcast until finally she succumbed to her thoughts, eyes slipping shut. Not once did her melody hasten or falter, brows knit in focus. Bella’s voice caused those slender ears to twitch upright before wilting back against either side of her head. Something about the song had her shifting uncomfortably against the stool, lips pressed to a line, even line while she bent a leg to hook the heel of her boot on the bottom rung.

Gritting her teeth and lifting her head to look up towards where the sky would be, her eyes narrow to the point of barely being able to see the glow from them and her face contorts even more in pain at the song, her fingers pressing down hard on the keys as her voice rings out in a pleading tone, “I’ve become so numb, I can’t feel you there. Become so tired, so much more aware. By becoming this, all I want to do is be more like me and be less like you.”

Laeda lifted her head in tandem with Bella’s own, brilliant emerald facets praying for something from the Gods above before staring out towards the crowd, mirthless and empty. How strange to look into such an emotionless void. Was it for the song or something more? On the chorus, painted lips begin to move, mouthing the words silently whilst the songstresses soulful serenade continued on. Weight shifted on the stool, leaning to the left in favor of some unseen irritation.

Turning her head just enough to look at the woman behind her, Bella’s eyes reflect an apologetic look in them as a tear falls down her cheek then quickly turns back to look down at the keyboard again, her fingers repeating the same notes that were played at the beginning of the song. Lifting up her hands after the melody fades out, she lays her fingertips on the mic, pulling it in even closer to her mouth, harmonizing with the guitar, “Can’t you see that you’re smothering me? Holding too tightly, afraid to lose control. ‘Cause everything you’d thought I would be has fallen apart right in front of you. Every step that I take is another mistake to you. And every second I waste is more than I can take!” Pulling her hands off of the mic she balls up her fists at the last sentence of the chorus. Laeda was not about to let that microphone go to waste. Leaning, her voice began to filter through, wavering with an uncertainty that seemed to be swiftly muted. She was performing, there was no sense for anything else to be shown, but when she looked to Bella, her fingers couldn’t keep up with the sudden wave of emotion that hit her. Still, she remained at her post.

As the pair harmonize, Bella taps a button on the keyboard to record the notes she plays before leaning in and looks back to Laeda as they sing together. Her eyes locking with the other woman's she repeats the chorus, “I’ve become so numb, I can’t feel you there. Become so tired, so much more aware. By becoming this, all I want to do is be more like me and be less like you.” Closing her eyes and holding on tightly to the mic, she belts out, “And I know I may end up failing too! And I know that you were just like me with someone disappointed in you!’ As Bella’s voice lifted, the tone haunted by ghosts of her past, it brought Laeda’s ears back against the side of her head, it begged her fingers to twitch and ruin focus. Thankfully, she did not. Each swell of song seemed to capture the woman, head canting to the side as she regarded Bella, fingers moving deftly along the strings before slowing into the chorus. A weak smile was given to the other woman in kindness then before the guitar was afforded the entirety of her focus, continuing the darkened melody along its way.

The melody on the keyboard played on despite Bella not having her fingers on the keys and as she closes her eyes tears go streaming down her cheeks. The pain she was feeling was evident in her entire being and trying desperately to maintain whatever composure she had left she pulled out the mic from the stand, wincing as she repeated the final chorus a couple times, as they sing together. Her eyes locking with the other woman's she repeats the chorus, “I’ve become so numb, I can’t feel you there. Become so tired, so much more aware. By becoming this, all I want to do is be more like me and be less like you. I’ve become so numb” Holding the note for several beats the tone of the song takes a step down and she puts the mic back on the stand as she continues with the song, her voice almost echoing as she places her fingers down on the keyboard, singing the final words of the song, “Tired of being what you want me to be” Laeda‘s ears twitched to Bella’s voice, eyes finding the woman’s in an attempt to console from a distance as her own voice collided with the song with a smokey intonation. “I’ve become so numb, I can’t feel you there.” Her fingers faltered then, skipping a few notes so that she grimaced before returning to the proper notes. As Bella began to wind the song down, Laeda’s fingers began to slow their pace to bring the song to its finale, soulful note seeming to do little to ebb the emotion that seemed to leech of either woman.

Feeling her hands shake a bit so playing the last few notes were rather difficult, but she did accomplish it without mistake then took a deep breath before standing and bowing then motions over to Laeda to do the same. Then after taking their bows Bella walks over to Laeda and slides her arm around the other woman’s waist, giving a quick hug before walking off of the stage.

#performance #howling owl poetry night #this was really draining for bella #emotional performance

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englass · 6 years ago

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In The Water You Sink

Pairing(s): Parental Joseph Seed & Child OC

Warning(s): Implied kidnapping, possessive behaviour, potentially misinterpretating visions from God.

Word Count: 3,892

A/N(s): I’ve spent far too long on this, and I’m not completely happy with it, but I’m done. Any likes/reblogs and feedback are more than appreciated.

- - -

Lily stands at the bank of the Silver Lake, eyes scouring over the many stones that have been washed ashore and now lay abandoned at her feet.

The wind brushes by her, a casual passing, as she kneels down to feel and collect as many smooth stones as she can find. A number of them find a haven in the central pocket of the large jumper she wears, an unexpected offering from one of the members from Eden’s Gate, while the others are gently tossed back to where she found them. Only one stone stays in her hand at a time.

The young girl looks out over the vast lake, watching as distant clouds bleed a perpetual grey across the land and water, dulling the vibrancy of the world she thought she knew. Her fingers brush back and forth over the stone in her hand, a repetitive motion that eases her as she focuses on the subtle groves in its otherwise clean surface.

Her feet shift with uncertainty, sliding into a sideways stance that feels slightly awkward, as she remembers all the times that her and her dad would skip stones together when he wasn’t swamped with work or overtime. It was a moment for just the two of them, a quiet pastime where they could talk and share in muted confidence. A moment for a lone father to escape the complexities of everyday life, and the battles that came with it, with his only child.

Often their time by the lake was filled with questions, curious and searching, as Lily looked for the answers to things that she either did not know nor understand; whether that be what a certain word meant or even how a particular system worked. She only ever trusted her dad, her one constant, to give them to her. And every time Adrian would answer her as best as he could, teaching and guiding, beaming proudly down at his inquisitive daughter.

It wasn’t always so picturesque though.

Sometimes they would simply stand in silence, lost in thoughts they weren’t quite willing to share, as time dragged on by around them. Other times tones shifted and voices raised. And then, on a few rare occasions, Adrian would hold his daughter close. Cradle her when thoughts or talk strayed too close to open nerves, when an old and still raw heartbreak was rubbed with salt, and the world got too unfair.

Lily never dared to question what made her dad cry.

It was so odd not to have him here beside her, watching over her like he always has and promised he always would. It didn’t feel right doing this without him. This was their activity, not hers alone. But, even so...

Looking down at the stone in her hand Lily chews on her lip, a wave of guilt making her hesitant, before she looks back up at the shaded stillness of the lake before her. With a deep breath she re-adjusts her hold over the stone, loosely rolling her wrist and drawing her arm back. On the exhale, she snaps them toward the lake.

The force she puts into the action makes her wobble just a tad, her footing unsteady on the soft ground as she watches the stone skip about four paces before it disappears below the waters murky surface. There’s a beat of silence. Her posture slumps with the weight of a disappointed sigh.

Lily pulls another stone from the small collection in her pocket, and with it she falls into a quiet routine. The water ripples at the disturbance, flinching at the rhythm that is soon set by the young girl as she continues pensively. Losing herself in the action as she settles into a revived pattern.

It is only as she gets down to her last several stones, after scavenging for a few more only seconds prior, that she is pulled from her mindless motions by the rhythmic crunch of fallen leaves. She turns with a blink, eyes wide as she watches with a nudging trepidation as Joseph walks towards her, his eyes kind and his smile gentle; paternal.

It doesn’t quite sit right with her.

Lily isn’t too sure what it is about the preacher, she can’t quite find the words for it, but there is something about him that puts her on edge; a feeling she can’t quite grasp. It has her shrinking in on herself, makes her feel so much smaller than she actually is, but she doesn’t understand why.

A part of her says that she is just being silly. That the feeling is only to do with the situation that she has been forced into with him and his family, and nothing more. But there is more to it. She knows there is. She just doesn’t know what, and that unsettles her. He unsettles her.

She’s heard rumours about them, some from what her dad had heard from his new colleagues at the County Sheriff’s Department, but most from the local residents. None of them spoke well of Joseph Seed and his family, his ‘Project at Eden’s Gate’. Many called them a cult, accused them of kidnapping, forced possession, and so many other things that Lily’s dad had either told her to ignore or to never repeat again. It’s just small town gossip, he would argue.

And yet, every time she rode into town on her bike, she would hear the same things, the same stories from the same people that would tell her to stay as well and truly clear from the group as she and her dad possibly could. That they were trouble, scoundrels and con-artists; that they weren’t to be trusted or involved with.

She can kind of see why now with how things have turned out.

Joseph stops beside her, far enough that she won’t accidentally hit him, but still close enough to be able to reach out to her if he so wanted to.

Along with a few members of his family, his ‘flock’ included, Lily’s noticed that the preacher seems to have little to no regard for personal space. She isn’t sure if he does it as a way to assure others that he cares, or if he does it because he just likes being close to people, but whatever the reason is it’s something that Lily finds a tad strange and uncomfortable; if not excessive.

Thankfully both his brothers are nowhere near as bad. Although the way John looks at her, with a strange intensity that isn’t too dissimilar from Joseph’s own stare, does leave her feeling rather exposed. A couple of times she’s caught him hovering, looking like the kid that wants to pet the puppy, but doesn’t know if he is allowed to or not; and other times she’s caught him looking at her as if her mere existence was offending towards him. It’s unnerving, but, then again, what about this family wasn’t.

Jacob on the other hand, a mountain of a man that Lily still doesn’t really know what to make of, is the only one that seems to offer her even the smallest of space. Giving her at least a semblance of respect in the distance he keeps between them, both literally and verbally, but also in the lack of it (close enough to protect, but not close enough to care). Admittedly, Lily doesn’t really get it, but she does quietly appreciate the distance he offers her all the same. He isn’t there trying to coddle her or act like something he isn’t, after all.

Unlike his brother.

The young girl chews anxiously on the inside of her lip at the trained, but impossibly soft look that Joseph gives her. Gentle and reassuring in a way that a parent should be, but that he isn’t.

When she was first brought here the much older man had made a point of informing her of her parents abandonment. How they had failed in their God given duty to protect and care for her by leaving her all alone as they had. That she was nothing more than a poor little lamb that had been left to the mercy of opportunistic wolves.

(Lily wasn’t sure that it was the right word, but that had sounded pretty close to what her dad had once described to her as being called ‘irony’.)

But she didn’t need to be scared any more, Joseph had promised with a reassuring squeeze of her hand. He had saved her. He, along with the aid of his siblings, would fill the paternal role that had now been made vacant. They would help her young and still impressionable soul to see the truth that both they, and the people of Eden’s Gate, saw. It didn’t matter to them that she was certain – that she had faith – that her dad was out there looking for her. That he would never abandon nor ever give up looking for her, that they were wrong about him.

But he wasn’t there then, just like he isn’t here now; and, particularly to Joseph, that spoke a thousand words.

The preacher tilts his head, expression fond and – if she truly trusted him – genuine as he regards her.

The look isn’t too dissimilar from how her own dad looks at her, and in a way it makes Lily worry over just how quickly, and almost eagerly, the older man was in taking over the role. It almost feels as if he’s actually adopted her, just without the paperwork or her even knowing about it, and if he and John didn’t preach so much about sin then she would say that he was actually proud of that.

“Are you alright, my child?” He asks, with the slightest edge of concern. “You’ve been out here for quite a while. You should come back inside.”

The young girl shrugs lamely, glancing out over the empty lake as she lightly shivers under the early touch of the coming autumn. The preacher’s prompt is certainly a tempting one, considering the changing weather, but with the unspoken order hanging heavily within his words Lily timidly decides to ignore it. Instead choosing to reply to his question with a lie-turned-omission from the tip of her tongue.

“I’m fine,” she says quietly. With a flick of her wrist another stone goes skipping across the water, the sound of its merrily quick travel echoing all around them.

It stretches far longer than it should.

“You know, there’s no need to lie to me,” Joseph says steadily, reply dipped in a thinly layered disappointment. “I can tell something is bothering you. You needn’t suffer in silence. You can always talk to me, I would never turn you away.”

Being so openly called out has Lily fidgeting nervously, the earnestness of his tone catching her off guard. The remaining stones clacking together softly as she grips and rolls them within her pocket; a small comfort.

Looking down at the muddied ground Lily goes quiet, curling in on herself as the familiar tendrils of guilt start to take a hold of her. Her young and easily guilt-ridden soul making her feel bad for, what a part of her feels is, an unjustified silence; a petty rebellion. He is only trying to be nice to her after all, trying to offer her the familial comfort that she so sorely missed. She shouldn’t be so difficult. Yet, so much like her dad, she’s stubborn, quietly firm in what she believes and thinks is right.

So, despite how harshly her guilt gnaws at her, she continues to hold her silence, and within that silence, still and stark, Lily mourns for both her absent dad as well as her now lost moment of peace. Her one chance to get away from their oppressive watch and have a fleeting taste of what once was, of a normality now ripped away from her, now gone.

Even if she wasn’t completely free from them in the first place.

Joseph, unaware of the young girl’s inner distress, is undeterred, holding back a sigh at her sudden reclusiveness as he persists.

“I know this must be hard for you, that it’s all rather sudden and unexpected, but there is no need for you to hide from us. No need for you to hide from me. God has already decided your place amongst our family. I only wish you could see that as clearly as I do.”

Originally, Joseph had been filled with disbelief when he had first heard the Voice whisper about him having a daughter; the wounds still raw and tender after his last great act of faith. Surely the Voice had been mistaken in such a thing. He didn’t have a daughter. At least, at that point, not anymore.

He thought God to be playing a cruel joke on him, that maybe the Devil himself had played him like a cursed fiddle. The faith he had killed for wavered with the tides of doubt, harsh and crushing against the shores of his belief. Yet, by the grace and mercy of God himself, He had seen fit to show Joseph His plan. To educate and assure him that his sacrifices were not to be in vain, that he would be rewarded; and in fact, would be compensated.

She was to be the divine water that tempered Hell’s fire. She would be the rain that nourished the charred earth that Hell itself would walk upon. She was to be his greatest test, his legacy, his most precious reward – a daughter, a second chance – after all the sacrifices that he would have to make in the name of his Lord.

She was to play a part in what Joseph always wanted, but never got to have.

Just as God had promised him.

And he would not let that go. He would not waste this second chance. Not when they were a gift from God himself.

“Please, child,” worry seeps into his tone, her continued rejection a wound he cannot ease. “I only want to help you, to be there for you as a father should. You don’t see it yet, I understand that, but that is why I’m here. To lead you, to guide you down the path that God has intended for you. And as your father I-“

“You are not my dad.” Lily winces at her gritted snap, throat tight with emotion.

Out of the corner of her eye she sees Joseph shift, expression turning tight. Although it’s hard to say with what, considering how guarded he can be; restrained.

He can be open, even raw at times from what she’s seen and heard, but for some reason Lily gets the impression that the preacher hides and knows a lot more than he ever lets on. About what she doesn’t know, and considering she has her own secret that she is trying to keep hidden she thinks it’s better if she just doesn’t pry.

As much as she loves her dad she’d rather not breathe a word about him to them. Especially if the rumours she’s overheard from the guards about a rogue Deputy, tearing up the county and fighting back alongside a resistance group, are true.

She can never quite hide her grin, the torrential bloom of hope, when she hears those rumours.

Closing his eyes Joseph sighs heavily.

He knew this was likely a part of God’s plan, a test for him to overcome like so many before it, but that didn’t mean that the girl’s mention of her real father didn’t irk him so on occasion.

He isn’t as bothered as John, or even as unbothered as Jacob is, over the mystery man’s identity, but it did often feel like she was using them as an excuse, rebuffing Joseph’s attempts at building a relationship by reminding him that the title was already taken. That it didn’t, and would never, belong to him.

She would see though. God would make sure of that, His plan already in motion. The virtue of Joseph’s patience would, without a doubt, be rewarded. He was promised. He just has to have faith.

“I understand what you’re going through,” Joseph starts, schooling his expression into a sympathy that the young girl questions the sincerity of. “It is never easy to lose those closest to us, to let them go when they are no longer there, or when they no longer want us... but you have us now. You have me, and as your father I promise that I will provide all that I can for you. Just as God intends.”

Before she can even think to take a step away Joseph is already in front of her, blocking her view of the lake, and placing his hands firmly upon her shoulders, grounding her there. Lily’s breath catches, an icy fear prickling over her beating heart as she shrinks under his intense gaze, terrified.

Joseph does nothing to reprimand the young girl for her lack of reply, or the way she flinches under his touch, simply watching her and the tears that fill her eyes. Empathetically, he smiles at her. Drawing her in closer until she’s wrapped securely within his arms, held tight to his chest as he smooths her hair back with a gentle touch, a quiet coo.

He knows it’s wrong to hurt her like this, to push the truth of her parents abandonment onto her as insistently as he has been, but even The Father isn’t immune to the sins of impatience.

She’s a stubborn child, a harbinger of a pride that’ll need to be tempered as she gets older no doubt, but the sure-fired belief she has in her real father is begrudgingly admirable all the same. It demonstrates the capacity of her faith, how fiercely she could defend it, and Joseph is certain that with enough time and the right encouragement she will walk the path that God has planned for her.

She could even take Faith’s place eventually.

Besides, her parents cannot be there for her like Joseph and his family can, cannot offer her the guidance that the Word and his flock can. Her father – whoever they were or may be – does not fit into God’s plan. And if they are, by some miracle, still alive and out there then Joseph would be most inclined to oversee their indoctrination personally.

And if they so happen to fail in reaching their atonement then... well, that would merely be God’s divine will at work.

Glancing up at the religious man, feeling the tightening tension in her jaw and the telltale sting of building tears, Lily can’t help but think over his words; the blatant confirmation that he was looking to take over her dad’s place leaving her feeling ill. She doesn’t understand why he’s so obsessed with this, so determined to occupy a space that will never belong to him. What he’s even aiming to gain out of such a thing is beyond her. He can’t just erase her dad from her life and memories, that’s her dad. That’s her dad.

Hopelessly, Lily tries to battle the scratching want she has for her dad, for the man who raised her, who taught her so much of what she knows. Who comforted her whenever she tripped or hurt herself, who celebrated with her whenever she did well in school or in general; who respected her enough to be honest about the state of his and her mother’s relationship, to give her the choice to walk away from him no matter how much it hurt him.

She just wanted her dad to hold her, to tell her that everything was going be okay, that she was safe and that he wasn't going to let anything bad happen to her. That he was never going to leave and that he would always be there to shield and protect her, just like he always promised he would. Just like he always did when the nightmares came around.

But he’s not here.

Instead she’s trapped in the arms of a man that she doesn’t know or trust. That wants to push her dad out so he can take his place within. And although he’ll never be her dad, nor even her father, Lily can’t find it in herself to turn down this small piece of comfort that he’s offering her; starving for the familial affection and love that a parental figure can give her. That her dad can’t give her.

Even if it is made out of lies and delusions.

With a stuttered sigh and poorly suppressed tears Lily buries her head into Joseph’s abdomen, her hands raising shakily to fist at the crisp white of his Sunday best. Joseph takes it all in stride, a light smile pulling at his lips as his hold tightens the slightest amount; a reassuring squeeze (you’ve made the right choice).

Nestled against him as she is the young girl lightly shakes her head and, in a muffled voice, as timid as a lonely dormouse and logged with water, can’t help the way her next words fall as a shaky plea; a begging reminder. To who even she does not know.

“You’re not my dad.”

Joseph doesn’t so much as bat an eye at her rebuttal, only ducking down to press a feather-light kiss to the top of her head before holding her closer, smoothing her hair back with a calm and measured motion.

“I will be,” Lily tenses at the certainty in his voice, the untold promise. "You may not see it, nor feel it yet, but we are bound to one another. I am your father, Lilian, and no matter the adversities that God may place before us I will love you as such. Just as you will come to love me as my daughter,” there’s the smallest breath, a sharp exhale. “Just as God had promised me.”

Pulling back Joseph’s hands come to rest on her shoulder and against her cheek. The former anchors her, a sure grip that keeps her close and centred in front of him. While the latter is a gentle hold, one he uses to swipe her fallen tears away, his thumb brushing over closed eyes in a move that is both comfortingly familiar and worriedly fear inducing.

“Now, let’s get you inside. You’re freezing, and I am sure my brothers would love to know what you have been up to, hmm?”

His smile is sweet, his words innocuous, but even so she can still hear what sounds like an unspoken warning buried between the lines. A motion of silence or honesty, she isn’t sure.

And as his arm comes to wrap around her shoulders, pulling her into his side and smiling down at her in a way that reminds her too much her dad – so kind and proud and fair – Lily can’t help but take one fleeting glance back toward the lake that had stolen her away. That had reminded her of a time when things were normal and happier; when she wasn’t a prisoner and her dad wasn’t a wanted deputy.

Desperately, as she is lead back into a den of wolves, she prays that they are wrong.

Despairingly, with tears running miserably down her cheeks, Lily prays that her dad has not abandoned her.

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motherlifesucher-archives · 6 years ago

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Roman Holiday l Shawn Mendes Imagine.

(a/n): in honor of Shawn (hopefully!) taking his first Grammy home tonight!

prompt: Shawn & (Y/N) know their relationship is sinking fast, but they deny it in front of the cameras.

Today marked four years since they started dating.

A lot had happened since then...

They were young, just starting their careers. Now, he was a Grammy-nominated artist and she had recently become an Emmy and Golden Globe winner actress.

They were able to hide their relationship for five months before they were caught sharing a kiss in the line of security on LAX.

Everything was perfect during the beginning. They had managed to balance their work life with their relationship and actually making it work. She’d be constantly traveling to wherever Shawn was playing, since most of her job was situated on Los Angeles.

Almost two years after they started dating, they decided to move in together, buying a beautiful apartment in Los Angeles. People said they were moving too fast but they didn’t listen, they knew they were going to prove people wrong because they were in love.

Until things became harder...

They didn’t want to acknowledge it at first, but people started to point out how they didn’t smile or hold hands when paparazzi got pictures of them doing simple things like getting groceries, and all of a sudden pictures stopped coming altogether.

Their families and friend started getting worried about their relationship, but they just denied it. She always repeated that Shawn was very focused on his new album, while Shawn told people his girlfriend’s life had gotten even crazier after becoming an award-winning actress.

And people bought it.

They never wanted for their relationship to become something they could profit from, but they were too far inside to negate that their relationship was a benefit for their careers.

It made people like their instagram posts from each other. It made people talk about them. It made brands like Calvin Klein wanting them on their ads.

Breaking up just wasn’t possible, so they couldn’t admit to themselves that something was wrong.

They just grew apart.

With time, calls grew distant and colder. Posts about each other became rare and they disabled the comments so people wouldn’t voice their opinions on how they weren’t the same couple they knew from the screen.

She couldn’t help it but feel like something was missing as she walked on her own the red carpet of the SAG Awards.

“You look stunning, what are you wearing tonight?” The interviewer asked gesturing your light pink suit.

“Of course this beautiful creation is from Louis Vuitton,” She smiled to the cameras like she was used to.

“I can’t help but notice your boyfriend is not here, does it feel any different?”

“Oh, absolutely! Sadly he’s London at the moment, but even if he’s not here, I know he’s with me and I just love him so much,” She said never losing the smile, and she internally celebrated when the interviewer awed.

“You two are so sweet. Congratulations on your nominations! (Y/N), ladies and gentlemen!”

She waved one last time before entering the venue. She took a glass of champagne and checked her phone, sighing when there wasn’t a trace of Shawn. Not a message, not a call, nothing.

They had gotten too good at lying to the world.

And themselves.

Shawn sighed when he heard the door being closed and a suitcase being dragged.

They were going to be home together for the first time in months.

He wanted to run and kiss her as he had done many times during the years, but he knew it wasn’t possible. They had barely talked over the last month.

He shyly made his way to the living room, where she was standing with her suitcase.

“Hey,” He greeted his girlfriend.

“Hi. Sorry, did I wake you?” She said taking in his disheveled look.

“Oh, no. I was just laying on the couch,” He mumbled. “Congratulations,”

She raised her eyebrows, “For what?”

Shawn internally cringed. “For the SAG. You totally deserved it! And I saw your acceptance speech, thanks for mentioning me,”

“Well, you are my boyfriend, aren’t you?”

Silence filled the room as they stood there, avoiding each other’s eyes.

“I think there’s something lacing that question,” Shawn said and let out a dry chuckle.

“Are we having this conversation now?” She asked quietly, finally looking at her boyfriend in the eye.

“I think we are...”

She slowly made her way to the couch, not wanting to look at Shawn, because she tried to understand the reason behind how things changed so quickly, but she didn’t have an answer.

“Isn’t this supposed to happen to every couple? It’s a rough patch, so what?” She said and Shawn shook his head.

“This is not just a rough patch. We’ve been lying to everyone, and by doing that we broke us even more. The only reason this,” He gestured them both. “Is so fucked up is because we spent months pretending everything was fine, we held hands in public but we weren’t capable of acknowledging each other when we were on the same space. You thanked me after winning an award and I haven’t done shit for you in months!” Shawn quickly escalated the conversation.

“it’s not like we had a choice, Shawn...”

“We did have a choice! We could’ve stopped faking and fix things, fix us. That’s what should’ve mattered, not putting on a smile while we were falling apart!”

“Do you know how much shit happens if we break up?”

“We shouldn’t give a crap about that, (Y/N)! That’s the point. We got lost. Our relationship didn't start because it brought attention to us, it started because we wanted to, and we’re here because we love each other. I know it seems hard to believe right now, but I do, I love you so much it kills me to not see you or talk to you,” Shawn said with clear pain in his voice.

“Do you think I don’t love you? I missed you every second, and I miss us, and I'm scared that we’ve damaged our relationship forever. It hurts me that we put the entire world first instead of everything we have, because you are everything I have,” She blurted out, trying to swallow the tears.

“I don’t think it’s too late to fix this, to fix us,” Shawn muttered, taking a step closer to his girlfriend.

“I don’t want to give up, I love you.”

She took a final step and circled her arms around his waist, hiding her face on his neck.

He could feel the tears making their way down his neck, but he didn’t care; not when he had her in his arms.

They had a tough road ahead, but they hoped love was enough to overcome everything.

“We have Shawn Mendes here tonight at the Grammys red carpet!” Ryan Seacrest greeted.

“Hi,” Shawn sheepishly greeted at the camera.

“Congratulations on your nominations, you completely deserve it!”

“Thanks, man,”

“I gotta say you always bring something new to the red carpet. Who are you wearing tonight?”

“You make me feel so much better,” Shawn said laughing. “I’m wearing custom Armani Privé,” He looked down at his navy suit.

“I saw (Y/N), why isn’t she her by your side?” Ryan asked, making Shawn chuckle.

“She decided to skip the red carpet. I miss her by my side, but she looked so breathtakingly beautiful that we both decided it was better for her to not steal the spotlight,” Shawn jokingly said, making Ryan laugh.

“I took a look at her and you are absolutely right. You might be the best looking couple tonight, maybe from the entire awards season!”

“Oh, I'm flattered! Thanks, man!”

“Shawn Mendes, everybody!”

Shawn politely answered more questions before it was time to enter the tent were catering was displayed and different celebrities were mingling. There he spotted his girlfriend, happily chatting with Camila and Bebe Rexha.

“Hey babe,” Shawn approached her from behind. He greeted both of his friends before resting his hand on his girlfriend’s waist.

“Did you miss me?” (Y/N) said playfully before leaving a kiss behind his earlobe.

“I don’t think so, you know I love the attention on myself,” He said lightly squeezing her waist, making her squirm.

“You two are so disgustingly cute, I want my boyfriend now,” Camila said jokingly.

“I think I’m gonna start heading inside. This dress is impossible and I don’t want to disturb people while seating,” Bebe laughed while managing her beautiful puffy red dress.

“I’m actually going backstage. I’m really rooting for you,” Camila hugged Shawn before following her manager and publicist out of the tent.

“Should we head inside or find some place to make out?” Shawn suggested, earning a soft slap on his shoulder.

“I think we are saving the latter for the comfort of our home,” She smiled and squeezed his hand.

Shawn swiftly walked down a flight of stairs to leave the tent, extending his hand for his girlfriend.

“You are such a gentleman, Mr. Mendes,” She carefully ran her hands down his perfectly styled hair.

The ceremony started and they patiently waited for the best song category to be announced.

Time stopped as they opened the envelope. Her hand was tightly squeezing his sweaty ones.

“And the Grammy goes too... ‘In My Blood’, Shawn Mendes!”

Shawn nearly jumped from his seat with a look of disbelief on his face. The only thing he could do was to kiss his girlfriend before making his way to the stage with his team.

“Oh my God, thank you so much. To the Recording Academy, my team, my label, my friends, my family. This is unbelievable! Thanks to everyone who has been part of this process, and not only of the creation of this song, but of my entire career. My mum and dad, for keeping me grounded and always giving me a word of encouragement. My sister Aaliyah, for being so annoying and the best sister in the world. My manager Andrew for believing in me,” Shawn held the award in his hand and shook his head with a smile on his face. “I don’t know how to thank everyone, but I know that I saved someone for the last, because there’s no way I would be here without my girlfriend, (Y/N). My love, who keeps me together even during the hardest times, I love you so much, this is yours too. Thanks everyone!” He bowed before leaving the stage.

She was clutching her heart.

She knew people were looking at her and cameras were looking for her reaction, but he didn’t care as she looked at the man she loved on stage, receiving the most important music award.

They went on commercial break, ready to announce the most important award of the night, but she didn’t care. Someone from Shawn’s team told her he wasn’t going back to the venue, so they carefully made their way backstage, where Shawn was hugging his parents.

The moment he saw her, Shawn smiled and she noticed the tears threatening to spill.

“Congratulations,” She hugged him tightly.

“This is surreal,”

This time they didn’t care about the cameras or the fact that Shawn’s family, including his grandma, were standing right next to them. He cupped her cheeks and crashed their lips.

It wasn’t just a kiss. They were leaving a painful time of their relationship and starting a new one, together. They were stronger and happier, they knew they belonged together.

They knew things were going to be just fine.

“What do you say if we skip the after parties and just head home?” He suggested before leaving one more kiss on her lips.

“Shouldn’t we at least spend time with your family?” She giggled.

“I think they’ll understand.”

They were happy again.

#shawn mendes imagine #Shawn Mendes blurb #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes #Shawn Mendes Imagine #Shawn Mendes angst

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raph8sblog · 5 years ago

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💫Dreaming Of You 💫Part II.

It was the most horrible week of your life, it felt like everything crumbling into pieces and you lost control. During your friendship with Felix, you were always aware of the fact that one day, he will eventually fall in love and leave you behind but you weren’t prepared yet. You just got back your amazing friend and now, it’s seemed that nothing will be the same ever again. Your chest felt heavy everyday and you couldn’t think about anything else just him... All day and all night, just him.... His perfect smile, those little freckles around his nose, what you adored dearly. But, the worst thing was still, that horrbile thought, which kept you awake at nights. How does she looks like?

Sure, she is pretty, with long legs, and slim waist, her skin should be pale and clear, like a spotless glass. These thoughts tormented you and the question was always repeating on your mind: I want to be like her, how can I be like her? Of course, you didn’t want to show your sadness to the world, nor to Felix. But, your texts with him became shorter and shorter day by day. He was busy with practises and when he had time, he naturally wanted to spend with his new girlfriend. You had time to yourself, everything was the same, like the first month, when you came to Seoul. Loneliness was your only company.

At mornings, you went to the university, tried to forget him, pass the time with learning, rather than waiting for him to message you. At afternoons you went to the library, but quickly you realised reading love novels, didn’t ease your mind, it’s just put more pressure on your heart. At nights, you watched horror movies, and avoid every romcom, what you previously started. At the beginning it helped you to distract yourself but after a while, it became way too scary for you.

One particular night, you heared strange noises from upstairs, which was a little bit unusual since no one lived on the top floor. You lived in the outer side of the city, in a small rent, and the buliding wasn’t that fancy as well. The housekeeper ajumma warned you to check always the windows, that all of them is properly closed, because in the neighbourhood there were a lot of burglary. So, after the horror movies with your broken heart, you were more than afraid.

“ Keep your calm Y/N, maybe it’s just a cat or something else, that floor is absolutely uninhabited... Omo, what if ghosts are living there?” - you thought to yourself while covering your head with the bedsheets. You couldn’t sleep that night, also when something loudly cracked on the upper floor, your imgination went wild and you almost had a panick attack.

Next day, you were tired and grumpy. You left your flat in a hurry, because you were already late. Before heading to the university, you checked your phone for the last time, just like you expected there weren’t any message from Felix. You sighed and just gave up every remanining hope.

“He doesn’t wants to be my friend anymore? What if his girlfiend told him, that she is not happy, if he is with me? Felix, you really forget our friendship for that girl, right? Well, I guess I can understand this, I’m not mad... I’m sure, I am nothing compared to her...” - you shooked your head, these depressing thoughts can’t bring you down today! You will have a presentation today, also you have to learn for your approaching exams. You have no time for this useless meditation on Felix’s relationship. It’s his business only, you should be happy and supporting, because if he is screaming from joy, you should scream from joy as well, not from the pain and betrayal, you felt.

You got an excellent grade for your presentation, you were more that satisfied so you decided to treat yourself in a nearby cafe, with a frappucino and with a blueberry muffin. While, you were eating, you started learning for the exams as well. Time passed easily, you spent two hours in the cafe, listening to music and reading the notes from your lectures. You almost felt asleep, when your phone ranged and it’s really frightened you:

- Halo? - you said to the phone with a big yawn.

- Y/N? Where are you? I texted you thousand times! - you heard a familiar deep voice, from the other side.

- Felix... What’s up? You sounds mad...

- I’m in serious trouble, you have to help me out! NOW!

- Uhm, but I have work to do. You know, I’m not an idol, I’m just an ordinary university student! - you sounded so unfriendly, your jelousy was more than noticeable.

- Please, help me, just once! Y/N I need you now!

- Kay, what should I do for you Felix? - you said , regreting your behaviour.

- I was on a date with Mia... - you just only hear your name for the first time, but what the heck? Her name was cute as well! Your stomach made a flip from all the repressed emotions.

- And the boys called me, we have a photoshoot today for Gone Days and I totally forgot it! I said to Chan, that I was with you and I lost my sense of time! He said it’s okay and I should bring you as well if we are together! I don’t know, maybe acted strange and they are suspecting it!

- Calm down Felix, it’s okay, you just have to say that I have an exam and I had t to learn, that’s why I didn’t come there. - you have absolutely no mood to go and meet with the boys, in your current situation. You looked terrible because of the lack of sleep, you were in a rush so you couldn’t put any makeup on. It’s sounded like a nightmare: go there, like this and make fun of yourself infront of all these damn pretty boys? No way! No fucking way! Even for Felix, you can’t do it!

- Y/N please, I’m asking you with all of my heart! You promised, that you will help! They will think, I just made up the whole thing as an excuse if you are not coming with me... A week passed since we last talked and a lot of things happened, I also spent some nights at Mia’s flat, I’m pretty sure, they are suspecting something! - now your heart made a slip, he really spent a whole night with that girl, not just one, more? You weren’t prepared for this news. Still, you couldn’t refuse it anymore, you were to weak to say no to Felix.

- I’m coming, where is the photoshoot?

- I will send the details right away! You are my real angel Y/N! I love you so so much! - he said it, before hanging up. He loved you, but just as a friend, nothing more and it wasn’t enough for you. You felt yourself as a complete fool.

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Okay, so you thought you will never ever feel the same way like you did in high school. But, life suprised you again, this time, not in a pleasant way. When you got into the building, where the photoshoot was held, all of your remaining self confidence washed away with an instant. The studio was furnished as a classroom with colorful walls, which became even brighter thanks to all the reflectors. The boys gathered around the photographer, who gave them instructions.

- Heyyy Y/N!! Long time, no see my aussie sister! - Chan embraced you cutely. You awkwardly hugged him back.

- Hi Chris, h-how have you been? - you stutterd, he looked breathtakingly good, like a model, straight out of a magazine. You were more than amazed!

- I’ve been so busy lately! Like oh man, I just wanna sleep so bad! What about you? - the truth is that you felt like shit, but it’s not appropiate to say it out loud, because the other half might ask you why are you feeling like that and then, you have to explain it what troubling you or just simly lie something. But it’s a better option to start with a lie right a way:

- I’m good, just a little tired, you know, because of all the uni stuff...

- Yeah, you seem a little bit pale! hope you are not skipping meals because of the exams.

- Thanks for worrying Chan, but I’m really okay! - you reasured him with a cheerful tone. Felix had to leave, the makeup artist were waiting for him, so you hided in one of the dressing rooms. Jisung and Minho accompanied you as well, they were laying on the couch in each other’s arms like a cute, newly wed couple. You smiled sweetly at the sight of them.

You started to feel a comfortable calmness in your heart, maybe after all, the fact that Felix has girlfriend is no longer frightening for you. You couldn’t help but wonder, why he is wants to keep his relationship in a secret, infront of the others? They seemed supportive and kind towards Felix, so you thought, it would be better if he was willing to tell them about it.

- How come that she is here? - you turned towards the door, Hyunjin rushed in for a bottle of water and he wasn’t that happy to see you there.

- Felix brought her. - Minho replied sluggishly while watching a video with Jisung.

- Why on earth he is brought her here? This is a private photoshoot, what if she leaks out the informations about our new concept? It won’t be a suprise to the fans! - you were more than exhausted for Hyunjin’s stupid manners now.

- I won’t do that, I promise to you! - you raised your pinky at him but he just rolled his eyes:

- I don’t like that Y/N, you are so clingy with Felix, because of you he was late from the photoshoot! Why are you guys spend so much time together, you two are secretly dating or what? - his fake eyebrow piercing just made him look even more rude in your eyes and now that he mentioned Felix and teared apart all the wounds in your heart again, you were more than furious:

- Please, just leave me alone!

- Yes Hyunjin, just let her be! Why are you so mean to her anyway? Even if he is dating with Felix, it’s none of your business. - Jisung just said exactly the same, what you wanted to.

- That’s right but I’m not dating him and I will never date him... - it was so lame, so so lame, that you actually thought you are going to scream but you said this out loud sobbing like a cry baby.

- Are you crying now? - Minho asked astonished.

- No, I’m just... The air is so dry here, my eyes became teary...

- This is like the worst soap opera, what I have ever seen. I better hurry up, instead of listening to her self-pity! I have to save the world with my visual! - a sight of relief left your lips, when he went out from the dressing room. “ I wanna go home... What’s the time now? I was so stupid when I decided to come here!”

You couldn’t say goodbye to him, because he was busy posing for the pictures, so you just left without a word. Lucky for you, on your way home, you couldn’t think about anything else just your bed, you were so tired, the one thing you wished for is a whole day, that you can spend in your room alone without anyone bothering you.

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The night was chilly, you could see your breath in the air, in the dim light of the street lamps, you walked alone to your house. When you stepped infront of your flat’s door, you realized something is not quite right... The door was open, your heart started beating faster in your chest, you couldn’t hear anything else just the rush of blood in your veins, when you carefully grabbed the handle. It was like a real horror movie, and after your hard day, is this really happening with you? You were too young to die by ghosts or burglars. The window was wide open as well, the curtains were floating on the back of the cool breeze. You lit the lamp wiht your trembling hands, and you examined the place, your laptop was on your writing desk, where you left it, also your jewellery box was untouched but someone was here and you knew it, because there were footprints on the white carpet:

“ But, why? For what aim? Perhaps, someone have been watching me? Spying me? The upper floor, maybe from there, it wasn’t my imagination, I heard someone!” - you were so scared, you almost stumbled down from the stairs. It was truly awful! You rushed down to the houskeeper ajumma to tell her about what happened. She called the police immediately, but you were still in shock after the fearful discovery, you wanted to call your family and tell them what happened but for some reason the first number, what you dialed, was Felix:

- Woah Y/N you read my mind! I wanted to call you and say thanks for today! I was sad, that you left earlier!

- Felix... Something terrible happened with me! Someone broke into my flat! - there was a silence for a moment:

- What?! Really? Wait for me, I’m coming to your flat! Don’t be alone there!

- More precisely, I’m outside now with the housekeeper, we are waiting for the police to arrive, but strangely he didn’t take my values. I wonder why, why he was there then?

- Maybe someone distrurbed him, and he had to leave....

- No, it’s I heard someone yesterday from upstairs, but the upper floor is uninhabited!! - the chill runed down to your spine, it’s really sounded like a horror movie. It’s crazy and mind blowing!

Felix was still someone, who could rely on in the worst situation. He was there in no time, covering your trembling form with his jacket like a real life prince. You didn’t have to face the policeman alone, he was on your side when they asked you out about the incident. You told them, when you left the flat this morning and what you experienced the last night, the ajumma was more than suprised when she heard about the loud noises upstairs.

- This is all? - you nooded and the policeman noted all of your informations. Then, they went up to your flat to check the lock on your door and the top floor.

- Aigoo, you must be tired, I think it’s not safe to spend the night here, after what happened today.... Is there a place you can go dear Y/N? - the ajumma asked you.

- Maybe a sauna hotel... - none of your body parts desired to sleep on the hard floor with a lot of strangers, after this long day. But, did you have any other choice? You didn”t have any place to go. Then, Felix spoke up:

- You can sleep at the dorm with me. My bed is not that small, however I share a room with Changbin, but you seemed to like him. - your eyes widened:

- I’m not sure, you know, I’m afraid, the others might not like the idea!

- Someone just break into your flat and you are worrying about what the others think about this? Please Y/N be more selfish just once! Moreover all of my bandmates likes you!

- Hyunjin wouldn’t say that. I’m 100% sure, that he feels irritated by me! - you never shared your concern about his unfriendliness with Felix before, but now it was necesarry.

- Enough talking, gather your most important things together and let’s go to the dorm!

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It was so uncomfortable, of course you couldn’t bear the thought that you have to share a bed with Felix, also you didn’t want him, nor Changbin to spend the night on the living room’s couch. Felix argued with you for a long time, before he gave up and allowed you to do as you pleased after he dragged you all the way at the dorm. You shocked everyone with the story, before going to sleep. So, right now, here you are as the main victim of this unlucky day, on the couch, which was suprisingly more convenient than you imagined...

Everything around you was engulfed in deep silence. Through the windows, you could see how the skyscrapers lined up, but the stary sky was covered with dust clouds. Your eyes felt heavy, regardless you couldn’t sleep again, with your raging thoughts about the burglary. Why is it happened? What’s the reason behind it? You looked up at the ceiling, you counted imaginary stars to make yourself a little bit calmer. The only thing, which eased your mind a little bit, was the blanket over you, which was Felix’s fluffy blanket, and it held his refined scent. However it’s gave you another question, without answer: why you were so madly in love with him? It’s time, to let go of him forever, there is no chance, and never been... Still, you hold this blanket close to your heart, as the only remedy.

“I should clear my head... I can’t sleep like that!” - you stood up from the coach and fixed your flower patterned night dress, it was the only acceptable pyjamas that you owned. But still, it didn’t look good. Whatever, you were never the seductive type.

You walked into the kitchen and sat down next to counter, you are not sure why you came there, maybe just to pass the time, or maybe because it wasn’t next to the bedrooms so no one can hear your pathetic crying sounds? Because of course, you wanted cry! You wanted to cry so bad, one week ago as well, when Felix told you on the roftop that he is in love with somebody else, you also wanted to cry when Hyunjin was harsh with you earlier, and you indeed wanted cry when this shocking burglary happened to you! You are human as well, a really unfortunate one.

Maybe you should just go and buy a plane ticket and left this city behind forever, gave up the uni and just go home! These ideas really made you cry out everything but at least, it felt comforting. You buried your cheeks in your hands, and you let out the nervousness. Literally, your sobbing echoed through the quite walls.

While you were deep in sadness, someone came in and turn on the light, you panicked, and almost fell down from the chair:

- What. the... - Hyunjin asked dismayed and then he realized he was wearing a cute, pink headband with cat ears on it infront you, he quickly covered his face and turned around shyly:

- Sorry... - you said delicately.

- Don’t look at me!!! - he commanded with panick in his voice. You didn’t say a word, just quietly rose up from your place:

- Wait.... Y/N... I have to tell you something.,. - you stopped and looked back at him, what does he wants to say to you so suddenly?

#skz imagines #skz angst #kpop fic #skz fanfic #skz felix #skz fluff #kpop au

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purplesurveys · 5 years ago

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572

Where was the last place you drove to? Other than home, I drove to Bonifacio Global City with Gab for a day out. I also drove to her dorm to drop her off after. What is your favorite move franchise? The Twilight Saga or Toy Story. What was the last fast food you ate? We had Wendy’s earlier. I was honestly kinda relieved to just have fast food for lunch because I just needed something greasy as fuck to shed off the hangover from last night, and something quick because I was so tired and was in no mood to even go out to begin with. What is your zodiac sign? Taurus. Do you think you're a good dancer? When I’m drunk enough and when it’s dark, yeah. Hahaha

What is the saddest book you've ever read? I don’t know if I’ve read any sad fiction; AJ’s memoir was sad enough though. I remember having to take breaks every so often because some of the content was just too heavy to take in one go. How old will you be this time next year? I will be 22. What subject do you think you are best at? History. I have a number of relatives who have worked/are working as researchers and historians, so I’m not surprised I got bitten by the bug too. Do you prefer heroes or villains? Heroes, unless the villain’s story is endearing or if the role is played good enough. That’s the case with a number of heels (wrestling talk for bad guys) who are AMAZING at being assholes, like CM Punk or Triple H. What is something you think is overrated? I love milk tea, but it’s definitely hyped up way too much in the Philippines. A lot of people like to brag how they skip water in favor of milk tea and it’s just? what? How are you genuinely proud of that? I mean whatever floats your boat and all, but still????? What political cause are you most passionate about? The SOGIE/anti-discrimination bill that for some reason is being debated on to begin with. How anti-discrimination is still a cause of conflict is the most Filipino thing I’ve ever seen and it’s shameful. What country would you most like to visit? Morocco, Turkey, or India. What is the worst job you've ever had? I haven’t had any so there’s nothing to rank. Who was your best friend as a child? We would change sections every year so my best friends used to change often. There was Kaye, Jaynie, Raegan...but it was Angela for most of my childhood. What is the hardest thing you've ever had to do? Having to keep going when my grandfather died mere days before the UPCAT. That, or seeing Nacho in his coffin. His slight smirk made it easier to deal with, but I still had a good cry about it. Have you ever considered having children? Yeah, I’ve thought about it more and more as I got older - a far cry from my hatred of kids when I was a frustrated 13 year old lmao. If you ever took field trips as a child, which was your favorite? I’ve always been a museum lover so our field trip to Intramuros/various Manila museums in 5th grade, and our field trip to Ayala Museum/The Mind Museum in freshman year were amazing. Do you have any weird family traditions? Not really. I will say that my mom’s side has a very weird, very distinct humor that takes some getting used to (but once you do you’ll realize they’re all funny as fuuuuuuck on that side) but it doesn’t really count as tradition, so idk. Have you ever considered acting? Not at all. I never liked having to do it. Who was the last person you slept next to? Gab. Do you think you can be in love and still cheat on your S.O.? That’s messed up, dude. Do you subscribe to any streaming services? I have a Netflix and Spotify but other people pay for them. Do you consider yourself a crafty person? That’s a big fat nope for me. What is your ideal weather? Cold enough that I don’t need to turn on the electric fan. If there’s a thunderstorm, even better. Have you ever been in a physical fight? With my cousins when we were kids, yes. What is the most embarrassing thing anyone has on video of you? Angela has questionable footage of me when I got too drunk at Gabie’s party last year; she’s tried showing it to me but I’ve always refused to know what she caught on video lmao. She can keep it if she wants; I just don’t ever want to see it hahaha. Gab also took a video and photos of me all hunched at the toilet and throwing up after drinking too much from earlier this year.

I’m clearly not the best drunk; in the same way, my best friends clearly know their priorities lol. Did you ever get lost as a child? No. If I got ‘lost’ it was only because my parents would intentionally hide from me at malls to see what I would do when I realized I was lost/to mess with me. What is your favorite condiment? Mayonnaaaaaaise. On a scale of 1-10, how attractive do you think you are? I’d give myself an 8 tbh. Minus two points for my two crooked teeth and frizzy hair. Do you prefer horror or romance movies? When it comes down to it, romance. I feel like they have more leeway since romantic comedies (which if you still don’t know by now, is my favorite genre) is under that genre, whereas horror can be just right or way too corny or cheap for my liking. What was the last film you saw in theaters? Hello, Love, Goodbye last August(?). But I think that’ll change soon because I plan to see Charlie’s Angels this month - and can I just say, only for Kristen lol.

Have you ever been to a concert? Sure, I’ve been to several, but I keep my ticket purchases to artists I have REALLY been wanting to see, like One Direction and Paramore. There’s a bunch of acts who’ve gone to Manila but I wasn’t religiously obsessed enough to want to see them, like Troye Sivan, The 1975, The Japanese House, etc. Have you ever had an existential crisis? No. I try not to think about that stuff. Where is the farthest from home you've traveled? Bali. Do you like country music? Ugh, no. Can you play any instruments? Other than the basic recorder, which I don’t really count, no. What color are your eyes? Black. What color are the eyes of the person you love? The same. What is your favorite kind of flower? Idk I don’t have one. Baby’s breaths are cute though. Have you ever had your heart broken before? For various reasons, yes. What town were you born in? I was born in, if I’m not mistaken, the district of Sta. Mesa in Manila. Do you believe you had a good childhood? I know my elders tried to shield me from harsher realities, and I’ll give them credit for that. I had the latest toys and gadgets and we had cable TV, so I had access to the cool shows of the time, to give a few examples. I’m grateful for all of those, but nothing could ever protect us from acknowledging the reality that I had alcoholic relatives who also happened to wake me up everyday with the smell of their cigarette smoke; and relatives who would resort to physical fights and screaming whenever they got too drunk, which always made our house a hot topic within the small neighborhood and a source of embarrassment for me, my siblings, and cousins. What was the last dream you had? I’m not sure. I think I was just hanging out with Gab in it. Do you know how to play any card games? Other than solitaire, no. Have you ever taken a taxi before? Yep but I can count those times on one hand. I’d rather use a ride-sharing app to get a driver than hail a Filipino taxi driver. What is something about your childhood that you miss? Half-days in school. What are you currently most looking forward to? Sleeping tonight, tbh. I want to stay up for a bit but I can’t wait to sleep too. Did you ever have MySpace? Do you miss those days? I had, very briefly. It was never a big trend in the Philippines so I didn’t see the big deal. I was more attached to Friendster (which I never got to have because of the 16-year-old signup requirement, which my parents made sure I followed) and Multiply. What is the best television show you've ever watched? Breaking Bad. Are there any songs you can't listen to because they bring back memories? I can’t listen to O by Coldplay anymore because it was the song I kept on repeat when I repeatedly harmed, starved, and tried to kill myself a couple of years ago. Have you ever saved someone's life? I hope I have in some form or another. I know I failed with Nach, though. Do you tend to sleep well at night? Sure, unless I had reason not to. What do you believe is your weirdest habit? I lock my car doors three times before I feel comfortable. When was the last time you were sick? This question is on almost every survey, along with the what-instruments-do-you-play one. Uhhhhhh 2017. What color are your parents' eyes? Black. Do you have any credit cards? I don’t. Have you ever broken any major bones? Nope, thank goodness. Have you ever had a surgery before? ^ Same. Are you ever afraid people will just stop talking to you one day? I never thought about that, no. Can you tell me the last deep thought you had? Meh, it’s too triggering to go back to at the moment. Are there any websites you've used for over 10 years? Twitter, Wikipedia, and YouTube, for sure. Do you have any siblings? If so, what are their ages? Yeah, they’re 19 and 16. What is the best movie you've seen this year? Liway. Did you ever make straight a's in school? Sure. What color is the shirt you are currently wearing? White, with maroon text.

#survey #surveys

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unwarrantedopinions-blog1 · 5 years ago

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AJR/Fletcher/3OH!3 @ ISU’s Braden Auditorium

A different take to the blog this post. I went to a show alone up in the Blono area. For those of you who are reading this and aren’t local, it’s Bloomington-Normal which is the home of the Illinois State University Redbirds. Pretty campus, nice majors, etc. Definitely worth checking into if you’re in the market for college. I have a lot of friends who go here / have went here. The parties are dope, the bar scene is hype, and it’s a great little place overall to spend 2-4 years if you have that kind of time and money.

FIRST IMPRESSION:

This was my first concert at Braden Auditorium and I am going to give it about a 7.5/10 rating for the venue, 8/10 for the vibe, and artists individually will get reviews/ratings later on in the blog. The venue was actually really well ventilated and it stayed cool inside despite the fact that it was packed as fuck and everyone was flailing around like an octopus at a rave. Parking was big and spacious, I conveniently parked closest to the doors not even knowing where I was going. Shout out to Brady for getting me where I needed to go via Snap since I was clueless. It was more or less just following the masses. (Doesn’t that lead to mass murder or cults?) The merchandise was right inside the doors and everything was front and center. AJR was the only artist that had merchandise out so I bought their short sleeved tie dye shirt (I’m a slut for tie dye) and their dusty rose hoodie with “100 BAD DAYS 100 GOOD STORIES” on the back because obviously. That’s my favorite song off Neotheater. I think it was reasonably priced. $35 T-shirt and $65 hoodie. Lucky for me, I brought exactly $100. Amazing on me.

I’m really not a fan of “assigned seating venues” so that was a bummer at first but the chair was super convenient when I wasn’t feeling it for the middle set. The facility is super nice, the security/assistants were super nice, the vibe was super nice. Overall super nice. The box office workers were SO kind helping me get my ticket (obviously I needed a physical ticket for the collection) and pointing me in the right direction to my seat. The people I sat around were kind as well. I had a group of girlfriends to my right, a couple to my left at first, and friend groups ahead and behind. As the Fletcher set went on and I was sitting, I had a weird guy come up and sit in the empty seat to my left. He got creepy after a few minutes and, GOD BLESS, the two girls that were together behind me saved the day and pulled me up to the next row back with them. After a while he tried talking to the group of girlfriends that were to my right originally and after talking with them I found out they were 17!!! So I told them I’d walk them out to their car after the show and they were so appreciative. Girls helping girls is what this future needs to become. Aside from that little stutter, the seating was not the best but wasn’t the worst. Neutral rating there, but for future reference I am gonna try to avoid assigned seating venues. Dat shit lame.

The thing I like the most about this experience for myself was that I was able to let myself feel. I have an issue with bottling up my emotions and I don’t ever process them, I just shove them to the back of my mind and wait until the shelf is too full and one falls off and I deal with it when the glass breaks. So being able to sit here, reflect on my emotions, feel things for what they are at their own face value, it was really nice. I heard all of my feelings loud and clear, I cried tears of happiness, sadness, confusion, excitement. There was so much going on in my brain that I couldn’t hold any of it in. Music is one of the only things that allows me to feel freely and deeply, so this experience helped me sort through what I’ve been holding onto. Some days I wonder why I hold on. I think this is a good habit to get into: going to a concert alone once a month, maybe twice. Not just for me, but for anyone who has a deep connection with music, artists, albums, etc. Overall, a pleasant experience for what I dubbed “Solo Sunday”.

ARTIST REVIEW:

3OH!3 - The first artist up on stage was 3OH!3 and I am honestly so emo over that itself. I’ve been into them since I was in middle school so that was a dope experience. I didn’t think I would see them in concert in my entire life let alone be a few feet from them so that was super surreal and I felt so starstrukk (puns, lol). Honestly, they’re so hype and their humor is very plain, but it’s still funny. I loved their set, recorded half of it on my phone, and will probably blare them on the hour long drive home. It was seriously such a great moment for me, my 13-year-old self was LIVING HER BEST LIFE and I can’t say 22-year-old me could’ve complained either. (10/10)

Fletcher - Fletcher was the second artist out of the trio. Let me start by saying her voice is AMAZING and she is TALENTED. But it’s too loud and strong for the mic and that needs to be adjusted so it doesn’t sound so blaring and shitty. I wasn’t really feeling her set so obviously I sat and started this blog. You could barely understand half the words she was singing when she got quiet, you could only hear her when she was loud. Aside from the sound, her lyrics were spot on for any girl going through literally anything. “Wish I could get a little undrunk so I could uncall you, at 5 in the morning I would unfuck you”. Bruh. My CHEST. Who said she could come for my life like that? This is wack as FUCK, I got called out hard on the whole set. There’s just something about the emotion in her voice that make the lyrics hurt 10x more and I think that is what makes a good artist. I think she talks too much midset and between songs, but maybe she will learn as she tours more that not every song needs an explanation for why she wrote it or when she wrote it or where. Overall I think her lyrics were good, the sound was okay, but the set was mediocre at best. Maybe an artist better on recording compared to live, will definitely give her a listen and fair chance. (7.5/10)

AJR - First off, let me just say that AJR was/is/always will be a (not so) subtle obsession. Neotheater (album review post coming soon) got me in my feelies so fucking hard that I couldn’t breathe. It was a cheap rib shot and it made me want to reevaluate everything I’ve ever said or done in my entire life. Seeing them live, being in the same building as them, it had my feelings on a whole different level. This album has been my rock for the last few weeks on repeat and helping me through this rough patch of my life. Being at the NEOTHEATER WORLD TOUR was unreal. They bring so much hype and playful banter to the stage, seeing them interact with one another (they’re brothers slash the “they were roommates” vine) was so wholesome. The gig was INCREDIBLE. I recorded most of the set to have for the bad days and the sad days. They are fun, upbeat, and quirky in the best way. I cried for the first 4-5 songs because it was so surreal to me and I was just in awe of the fact that the music that I listen to so I can make it through the day sounds 10x better in person. The vibrations in your chest and the pounding headache you find yourself not minding, the amazing crowd that feels the same or similar to the way you do, and the hype that everyone in the place felt. It was all amazing and I will never miss another AJR show again. I really just sat there and soaked in my tears the whole set. It was satisfying in a weird way to connect with something so simple so deeply. (10/10)

THE DRIVE HOME:

The drive home was hype while I sat in the lot trying to leave all the way up until I got out of Blono. It began as a light jam session of “I’m Not Famous” and “Burn The House Down” in the lot, transitioned to 3OH!3 on shuffle (skipping for all the high tempo bops), and then winded down with a play through of Neotheater in its entirety. From the moment I hit the highway from the last exit taking me home, I started the album from the beginning. I let the words sink it, the emotions connect, and I was a bawling mess. I sang, I cried, I bobbed my head along time the heartbreaking truths the lyrics were throwing at me. I revisited painful things from my life, I planned out new future plans. I took my present life into consideration and started working on a plan to get it back together. By the time I got home, my face was covered in teary mascara streaks and my eyes were bloodshot and burning. My cheeks were red and I felt so exhausted. Letting my emotions get out in their own way made me feel like a new person. The months upon months of bottled up feelings are gone and it’s time to start over with new ones.

FINAL THOUGHTS:

I enjoyed myself. That’s a phrase that will rarely come out of my mouth. But hey, it’s true. The experience was one of a kind, it was extraordinary, it was everything I wanted it to be. $50 to see a life altering show (dramatic, yes, but not entirely wrong either) was a steal. I would recommend an AJR headliner any day regardless of the openers. 3OH!3 as a headliner would slide if they had good openers. Fletcher as a headliner would be cool if you like that kind of thing. Don’t go to concerts alone unless you are adequately prepared to be alone. Help those around you, enjoy the moment, live for the now. Let those around you enjoy things in their own way. Be kind, be compassionate, be supportive. Enjoy the time you have because your days are numbered, regardless of the total amount. And when you think you shouldn’t do something because you don’t wanna go alone, do it anyway. It will be good for you and it will bring a new meaning to self care. I feel weightless and so wholesome. I am ready to tackle another week, month, and year.

#AJR #CONCERT #braden auditorium #isu #illinois state university #music blog #blog #artist review #music #3OH!3 #fletcher

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1989xtaylorsversion · 4 years ago

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ariana grande releases “positions,” an album about finding love again. (my review)

ariana grande’s sixth studio album came and it came to serve. she details her journey to finding love again, and she looks good while doing it. the visuals are a fresh new vibe for her, and i’m here for it. i want to start doing album reviews, and i figured this would be a good place to start.

to be honest, i really didn't vibe with half of the songs on this album AT FIRST. but, the songs i hated ended up reallyyy growing on me, and now i love all of them, except for one (we’ll get there). i know people dragged her for this album, but i couldn’t care less what stan twitter says. half of stan twitter is made up of childish and delusional "fans” who have a problem with almost everything, and that goes for any artist, show, etc... it’s not just about ariana. so, if you want an honest review for anything, don’t go there or listen to what they say. people want ariana to keep making generic pop songs, and that’s just not who she is. she even admitted that she leans towards r&b more than pop, and i love that for her. i love thank u next, but “positions” might replace it as my favorite ariana grande album.

i said what i said.

lol actually idk.

it’s really hard for me to pick but my heart is telling me positions > tun, so i’m gonna listen to it.

anyways, onto the review.

1. shut up

this song is an intro, and according to ariana, it’s meant to set the tone for the album. she wants people to pay attention to the emotions and messages, not just the adult themes. i don’t know about anyone else, but i love it. the verses are cute and get right to the point, and her vocal range doesn’t fail to impress. i love the disney vibe it gives, especially at the end. it makes you pay attention, that’s for sure.

2. 34+35

ok... don’t come for me, but this song is making me conflicted. on one hand, it’s a bop and i know it’s not meant to be deep and meaningful. i can respect that and enjoy it for what it is. but, on the other hand, it’s one of her worst songs lyrically, and when you compare it to the other songs, it’s one of the most forgettable. the remix is better than the original, so at least there’s that saving grace. the first verse is actually one of my favorite parts coz it’s so unexpected, and the music video is great. the chorus shocked me, ariana really went there. i like the song, but if i had to rank it, it wouldn’t even make it to the top 5. it’s one of the weakest songs overall.

3. motive ft. doja cat

ahhh here is the first grower. fun fact, i really didn’t like this song at first. i thought it was short and repetitive, but then something changed within me and i made me love it. i think it’s the perfect length and the perfect bop. doja was a good choice for the track, and i actually like how they sound together. something else i want to note is a lot of the songs are pretty short on this album, which is good because it doesn’t make it feel endless. ariana doesn’t have a lot of songs under 3 minutes, and while i wish some songs were longer, the length felt appropriate most of the time.

4. just like magic

y’all... this song is everything!!!

this song puts me in the best mood. it’s so sweet and catchy, and i have nothing bad to say about it. my favorite lines are

Losing friends left and right But I just send 'em love and light (oh, whoa)

and

Take my pen and write some love letters to heaven

i don’t know if that line was a nod to mac (may he rest in the sweetest of peace), but i internally weep everytime i hear it. if i could have those lines on repeat for the rest of my life. i wouldn’t complain. great job ariana, you snapped on this track.

here’s a visual representation of all of my moods while listening to this song:

5. off the table ft. the weeknd

i love ariana and i love the weeknd. it’s a perfect mix. their last collaboration, “love me harder” is still a bop to this day, so when i found out he was on this track, i knew it would be one of my favorites, and i was right. it’s one of the lengthiest and slowest songs, but honestly i’m more of a fan of ballads than upbeat songs anyway. i always look for ballads and sad songs on any album i listen to, and without fail they’re usually my favorites. so, this song served. their voices are amazing together, and the meaning behind it makes me want to cry. it’s about ariana being scared of falling in love again, and it makes me want to give her a hug. i don’t know why but i love the way ariana sings this part

'Cause I ain't her and you ain't him, thankfully (baby, don't leave) But it's gon' be hard to let someone else in again (woah) Baby, baby (Woo-hoo)

6. six thirty

sooo remember earlier when i said, “i love all of them, except for one (we’ll get there).” well, we’re here. no matter how hard i tried, i could not bring myself to like this song. i hated it when i heard it and i hate it now. i think it’s one of the most boring and forgettable songs ariana has ever made. the meaning of the song is cute, but that’s literally the only compliment i have. i wish she had excluded this from the album. i love every other song, and honestly it makes me mad knowing it could’ve been a no skip album had this not been included.

also, i’m listening to it as i write this and my opinion still stands. i don’t know what “six thirty” stans see in this song, maybe i’m missing something. but, i’ll be skipping it. as my girl ariana said, “thank u next!”

7. safety net ft. ty dolla $ign

safety net stans, WE’VE WON!!

i. love. this. song. it is nothing short of perfection. i wanna thank ms. grande for deliveringggg! their voices blend so well together, and if they want to collaborate again in the future, i don’t think i’d mind. this song is so calming and peaceful and the meaning behind it is so adorable. i can’t relate, but i’m happy ariana can. my favorite lines are

You're making me forget my past Never thought I'd feel like that again I came to peace with my path Now you got me off track

and

I've never been this scared before Feelings I just can't ignore Don't know if I should fight or fly But I don't mind

the latter verse is especially my favorite. seriously, if i could have that on repeat i’d listen to it. thank u ms. grande for not disappointing on this track. she sparkled her magic all over it, and for that i’m grateful.

8. my hair

for some foolish reason, if you ever doubted ariana’s vocal ability before, let me direct you to “my hair.” this song is so calming, beautiful, and magical. it transports me to a different realm and it’s the perfect length. this was another grower, but i’m on the “my hair” train now, and i’m never getting off.

oh also, THE HIGH NOTES. WHAT??? WHO ELSE WOULD DO THAT BESIDES ARIANA GRANDE??? SHE. DID. THAT. i’m not even ashamed to admit sometimes i skip through the whole song and listen to the last verse just to hear her sensational high notes. it’s amazing and so is ariana.

9. nasty

i don’t know what else to say except nasty is everything. it makes me feel like i’m floating on a cloud. it releases the bad b inside of you, and let’s not forget the intro in which she starts the song with MORE high notes. she spared no falsettos in this album, thank goodness. if this song isn’t in your top 5, what are you doing with your life?? it’s magical, peaceful, and sensational.

10. west side

once again, “west side” was a grower. at first, i felt the same way to this song as i did with “six thirty.” i thought it was boring, but then one day it randomly got stuck in my head, and when i went back to listen to it, i really liked it. it’s not anything spectacular, it’s a cute song, so the short length is perfect.

11. love language

add this to the list of growers. i love the vibe of this song. it’s very theatrical and gives me circus vibes in the best way. it’s something different, and very cool. the lyrics are cute and calm. i will admit when i first heard it, i didn’t get the weird ending. the song stops and after a couple of seconds it picks back up for another 30 seconds or so. it’s an interesting twist, but it was so unexpected and it caught me so off guard that i literally thought i started a new song. i don’t know why she did that, maybe ariana wanted to keep us on our toes. she really said, “pay attention, and don’t get too comfortable.” i can respect that. the last verse was a nod to her boyfriend dalton, of course. i thought the last few lyrics were really cute and fitting since he’s a real estate agent.

I ain't tryna sign no lease I'm just gon' make you my home

12. positions

here she is, the title track. not gonna lie, i go through phases with this song. i loved it at first, but then i heard the rest of the album and i thought wow she pulled a taylor and picked one of the weakest songs as the single. it’s cute and catchy, but when you compare it to the other songs, it’s not one of the strongest. i still like it and i’ll listen to it, but it’s not going to be one of my favorites. the music video was exceptional though. ariana in the white house?

she’s got my vote!

nothing but respect for MY president!

one more...

ok you get it, i’ll stop.

13. obvious

i didn’t think this song was too special at first listen, but i changed my mind. i really like it now, and it’s one i’ve had on repeat. it’s cute and short, but it still makes me feel good. the lyrics are really sweet. good job ariana!

ladies and gentleman, put your phones on silent, the show is about to begin...

14. pov

@ ALL OF THE POV STANS, HAVE YOU RECOVERED?? BC I HAVEN’T.

HOW do you recover from that religious experience? i feel like i went to heaven. that’s the best way to describe this sweet and emotional ballad; you went to heaven. if pov isn’t your #1 fav from this album, rethink your life decisions. i implore anyone who doesn’t want to listen to the album to at least listen to this song. it’s too beautiful and the lyrics are something else. see for yourself.

I wanna love me (ooh) The way that you love me (ooh) Ooh, for all of my pretty And all of my ugly too I'd love to see me from your point of view I wanna trust me (trust me) The way that you trust me (trust me) Ooh, 'cause nobody ever loved me like you do I'd love to see me from your point of view

i mean... come on...

and let’s not forget the bridge aka my FAVORITE PART

I couldn't believe it or see it for myself Boy, I be impatient, but now I'm out here Fallin', fallin', frozen, slowly Fallin', got me right I won't keep you waitin' (waitin') All my baggage fadin' safely (my baggage fadin') And if my eyes deceive me Won't let them stray too far away, I

i’m still not over it. clearly.

she sounds beautiful, and i choose to believe this song was crafted by God himself. i mean, how did she expect us to feel after ending the album with a BALLAD? it’s like ariana knew what i liked. thanks for catering to my wishes, girl. i have nothing bad to say about this song. if i could listen to the bridge on repeat (and i do), i’ll be happy.

overall thoughts:

like i said, people dragged ariana for not changing up her sound, and i don’t know if it’s because i’m not some music expert or what, but i don’t really care. i like this sound, and i don’t see anything wrong with it. let’s not forget the last time she experimented with a different sound we got the mess that was half of “sweetener.” half of that album is comprised of skips, sorry sweetener stans, i won’t lie. she released an album at a time where we all needed an escape, and i’m grateful for that. also, if you listen to the album in order, it tells a story of the fear of falling in love again, but eventually letting that fear go and finding happiness with a new person. it’s incredibly fitting with ariana, and i wish her nothing but the best with everything she’s gone through. i love this album, and that’s all.

the weakest songs: six thirty, 34+35, and positions

the strongest songs: pov, safety net, just like magic, and nasty

rating:

9/10

sending ariana love and light

#ariana grande #positions #pov #just like magic #ariana #album #thank u next #34+35 #my album review

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