#mmm not quite my tempo

[edwardsissyhandsthtdanceslikeabb]

the inherent homoeroticism in distortion, the theft of one's personhood through an inextricable tethering to smth exceeding you, smth pursuit isn't enough to attain, flagellation isn't enough to soften, seeking to mutilate while convincing you of your brokeness to begin with. the innate seduction in stockholm, in selfish mentorship, jealous mentorship, your autonomy, your soul, your craft in the hands of someone who smiles at imbalance, who sees breaking as inadequacy and success as arduous and painful. someone who consumes you completely, tainting that which you used to love until your passion, your gift, your talent, isn't really abt love anymore.

its resentful and perfunctory and competitive and entirely catered to plugging the void of soullessness you've been coerced into imbuing. its catered entirely to your mentor. catered entirely to their destruction, attainable only through becoming exactly that they had envisioned.

[megistusdiary]

🍓 𝘴𝘪𝘻𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘬 + 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘥𝘰𝘶 🍓

dom!beidou x sub!fem reader

warnings: smut (mdni), wlw content, strap usage, size kink, inexperienced reader, implied foreplay/prep

the captain's quarters. often found empty considering her busy work as a captain, though tonight, they find themselves occupied in a rather interesting fashion.

beidou wraps her calloused hand around the base of her thick strap, a lustful look in her exposed eye as she tilts her chin towards you.

"c'mere, sweetheart." she beckons you closer, watching you crawl across the bed to her.

you looked so cute, dolled up in a pretty little white lace lingerie set. so adorable, like you're a new toy, gift wrapped just for her to open up and use to her heart's content.

she coats the material in a slick substance you're not quite familiar with, but you don't question it when she pulls you into her lap, situated so the strap sits menacingly in front of you while her hand wraps around your waist.

her other hand cups your jaw, tilting your head back to look up at her. "think you can take it?" she asks and you glance back at it.

"it looks... big."

she barks out a little laughter, hand squeezing your waist. "you're adorable. of course, it's big. i like seeing pretty little things like you struggle to take it all."

your lips open, obviously shy from her words, and she leans in to kiss you, tongue sliding over yours. it's messy, and you try to match her movements clumsily, but she can feel your desperation to earn her praise. she can tell you so badly want her to say you're doing well.

she pulls away, hearing you breathing shallowly in her ear. "besides, i stretched you out real good earlier with my fingers, yeah?" she coos at your embarrassment when you nod. "see? nothing to worry about."

she lifts your hips, eagerly sliding your panties aside and positioning you over the tip of her strap while you nervously clutch onto her shoulders. "beidou... it...mmm." you begin to mumble softly.

you're hesitant, she knows that. but it's only a matter of time before she'll have you singing on her strap, just as you were with her fingers stuffed in you.

"i'll go slow, sweetheart. don't worry." her grip is iron-tight on your hips as she eases you down slowly, and you grab feebly onto her biceps. she can feel the resistance, rubbing circles into your hips as she pushes more in before you whine at her.

"full." you mewl and she tuts.

"full? you can't be! you've only got half of me inside, baby." she sounds soft, but her voice is ridden with lust for you. "breathe." she reminds you, helping you sink all the way down, inhaling sharply with all your pathetic little whimpers and sniffles.

once you've taken all of her, she finally gives you that praise she knows you've been aching for.

"good girl." she kisses the side of your head, soothing you gently while you try to get accustomed to the feeling of being completely full. "such a good girl for me, huh?"

she slowly, shallowly fucks you, letting you adjust before your own hips begin to grind down into her, a shy rhythm she finds so cute.

she starts bouncing you on her cock, feeling you bury your head into your shoulder, though she's quick to snake a hand into your hair, tugging you back up. "focus on me, sweetheart." she orders.

she urges you to ride her, even with shaky legs and an uneven tempo. you do your best, holding onto her with shaky hands while her own hands eagerly go to the clasp of your bra.

the moment she gets it off, she flings it away, exposing your chest for her. she leans in, laving her tongue over your pert nipples, kissing each one, leaving little marks across your chest while you ride her, panting from exertion until she finally helps you.

her hands grip your hips, slamming you onto her strap as your head falls back, hands sliding down her arms as you let her use your body. "pretty little slut, ain't ya?" she grins, grinding her hips up to seek your g-spot out.

your body bounces with each thrust, feeling so small in her lap while she treats you like her stress reliever. when she finally finds it, your entire body twitches, face scrunching up and she laughs, excitedly abusing the spot until she brings you right up to the edge, only to suddenly stop.

your head falls forward, eyes teary. "keep going!"

"beg me, baby. beg me to let you cum on my cock." she holds you completely still, her strength overpowering you, forcing you to beg her first.

"please... please..."

"say what i wanna hear, and maybe i'll consider it."

"please let me... cum on your cock..." you sniffle, looking up with wide eyes that she just can't say no to.

"that's it, that's a good girl." she praises, fucking you once more, feeling your body jolt in her lap. you were so cute... like a little angel, all for her to corrupt and ruin on her cock. "cum for me." she mutters into your ear, feeling you squeeze around her, keeping her trapped where she is.

you moan so prettily for her. you sound so soft, so sweet as your noises spill from your lips uncontrollably, just like the slick from your cunt.

she shallowly fucks you the best she can, one of her hands sliding to the back of your throat to keep you looking at her. it slides to your chin instead, swiping over your lip, then your cheekbone as you recover.

"how was that?" she asks, grinning at your shaky body, still fully seated on her strap.

"so good-" you whimper, prompting her to kiss you once more, this time, a much more soft and tender moment as you rest against her.

when she pulls away, she smooths a hand down your back. "just take a minute. i've got a few more positions we gotta try next." she grins wickedly at your soft little whine.

[scintillyyy]

i find such a radical "dixon hasn't written anything good and is personally responsible for all the conservative agenda in comics of 90s" opinion in fandom quite funny.

like if he hadn't made such a right turn, now everyone would say about him "well yeah his works haven't aged so well and sometimes he wrote crap, but there were good stories too!" as about many other comic writers.

yea Don't get me wrong there is a lot that that man derserves to get called out for and taken to task for. but mmm i do think that because he took such a vocal, public descent into some truly atrocious behavior and opinions he does become the easy target to place all the blame onto. and while he deserves plenty of blame himself, you do see that some far beloved writers have some of the same issues he does in their writing that they often get a pretty hefty pass for in comparison. he is treated as if his writing *has* to be somehow worse than everyone else as far as issues like sexism or racism or classism, when his is honestly not even the most sexist work coming out of dc comics or comics in general in that era (were there better? yes. were there much worse? ....absolutely yes) and issues of racism and classism were very present even in other writers that were politically opposite him (alan grant in rite of passage comes to mind, but even if you look outside of batbooks you're going to find those things. sometimes done better than batbooks, sometimes done worse than batbooks)

and listen. it's easy to want to attribute every rancid opinion to him because of his current day views, but when you look at only the bad things, you miss that he also may have had some views in his works that you may actually agree with--i was discussing in the comment of my last ask and i re-read the story this morning (electric city, detective comics #644-646) and it does make me agree, but in a lot of his works he does end up kind of coming across as staunchly anti-death penalty in a lot of his batman work despite being pro-prison as punitive punishment. and it's like. he is catholic apparently and that's kind of common view in catholics especially of his generation--that prison as punishment is deserved for the wicked, but that the death penalty is ultimately a moral wrong. and it's like. well i know i agree a lot with his feelings on the death penalty that shines through while disagreeing with a lot of other things in his work. i think sometimes even if the person is abhorrent you can't just attribute only the bad things to him. even a broken clock is right twice a day. and even working clocks get off-tempo sometimes. i think sometimes dixon deserves most of the blame. sometimes that blame deserves to be spread around a little bit.

[blueesnow]

(6/6) Ittoki Otoya's Private Story [Utapri Live Emotion]

Ch 1: (unlocked if you reached intimacy lvl 6 with Otoya)

-Waterfront Park- Otoya: Hey ya, Nanami~! Are you done with your work now? Haruka: Ittoki-kun! Yeah, I was just on my way back to the dorm. Hm? That thing on your back… Otoya: It's a guitar! I used this while recording on TV. Since we've met like this, let's go take a bit of a detour before we go home. Otoya: There's a good place around here and I'm sure that you will really like it. Now, lend me your hand. Let's go! Haruka: (Wah…. where exactly are we going?) -A Hill Overlooking The Sea- Otoya: And we arrived! This is a hidden-spot that I found! How is it? The view here is amazing, right? (choices) <What a beautiful view!> Haruka: What a beautiful view! The sea looks so pretty and the wind here feels so nice too. Otoya: Yup yup, I agree! Today's weather is also great too, so it's perfect! Otoya: Sometimes I tend to go here by myself and relaxing around. Somehow kinda feels like a secret base y'know. <I feel at ease> Haruka: I feel at ease… It feels like you'll lose track of time once you gaze upon it. Otoya: I understand the feeling. There was once a time where I'm doing lot of things here and before I knew it the sun had already gone down. Otoya: It's nice to take a breather here sometimes, and besides I always feel refreshed whenever I go home. (back to story) Haruka: Is it really okay for you to suddenly take me to this special place? Otoya: Yup. Besides I wanted to show you my favourite scenery and share it with you after all. Haruka: Ittoki-kun… thank you very much. It's definitely quite up here. Haruka: (There are hardly any people around here, so now I know why he said it's a hidden spot. It's like my mind is becoming clearer…) Otoya: But there's also another reason why I take you here with me. Um… Otoya: Found it! Here, take look at this!

Ch 2: (unlocked if you reached intimacy lvl 11 with Otoya)

-A Hill Overlooking The Sea- Otoya: Here, look at this guitar pick! There's a sign in it, you see? Haruka: Wow… Isn't that a guitarist from that famous band! Not to mention it's also handwritten too…! Otoya: Yep, that's right! Actually they were a guest from the show we recorded earlier. Otoya: I performed an impromptu guitar performance in front of this person! Haruka: Wow… that's so amazing! Otoya: Hehe. Not to mention they also complimented my performance. And after we were done with the recording, they gave me this guitar pick! Otoya: I'm so happy at that time! As soon as I received it I was thinking that I want to display this in my room! Haruka: Fufu, Ittoki-kun really likes guitar, isn't he. Otoya: Of course I love it! Not only guitar, singing and dancing too! Otoya: Today I realized once again that I really do love music. Otoya: And at that time, you suddenly came and we met like this, so, how do I put this… Otoya: I want us to enjoy music together!—is what my overflowed feelings said to me. Haruka: Enjoying music together…with me? Otoya: Yep! There's barely anyone around here, and I also got a guitar with me today too. Otoya: Let's sing together, Nanami!

Ch 3: (unlocked if you reached intimacy lvl 21 with Otoya)

-A Hill Overlooking The Sea- Otoya: Well then, here we go. You can join in whenever you want! 1, 2―！ ~♪ Haruka: Ittoki-kun… Haruka: (If you show me a smile like that, then I will also…!) Haruka: …~♪ Otoya: …That's great! How about with this rhythm? ~♪, ♪ Otoya: Mmm―it's getting there! Let's go with more up-tempo! Otoya: Hehe, you're the best! Alright, let's sing with all our might so that our voices reach that ocean! Haruka: Yes…! Haruka: (Our voices overlapped with each other and flew beyond the sky. As I thought, music is just the best…) - Otoya: Pheew~ That was really fun! Haruka: Me too, it's been a long time since I've shouted out loud and that really cheered me up! Otoya: I feel like I can do anything now! Thanks, Nanami. For singing together with me. Otoya: I want to do a lot of things with you from now on! I wanted us to sing together again, and I also wanted to talk with you more. Haruka: Of course, if you're okay with me, then I'm open to it whenever. Otoya: Yaay, well then I'll be calling you again later. Look forward to it!

Ch 4: (unlocked if you reached intimacy lvl 31 with Otoya)

-Park- Haruka: (Phew, and that's all for today's schedule… Oh, there's a TV filming crew here. Are they shooting something…?) Otoya: Umm, for today's rundown… Haruka: (Oh, it's Ittoki-kun. Is he currently on standby now…?) Otoya: Okay, I'm done checking the script. Oh…Nanami! Haruka: Oh hello, are you currently in the middle of filming now? Otoya: Yep, it's a sports-oriented variety show in which I appear as a regular member. Otoya: It's a show where they challenge you to an unusual sport, or make you seriously compete with a professional athlete! Haruka: Oh, I knew exactly that show! Ittoki-kun, you always seem to be having fun there. Otoya: Really? I'm happy to hear you say that. I like sports after all, and I get even more fired up when it comes to competition. Otoya: Moreover, we'll be doing soccer for today which is my speciality. That's right, while you're here, why don't you stay and watch the filming? Haruka: Fufu, thank you. Well then, I'll take you up on your offer. Otoya: Yaay! I'll go and let the staff and my co-stars know. Hey, everyoneー! Haruka: (Wow… Everyone is quickly surrounding him in no time. Ittoki-kun is very popular) Otoya: …And done. Watch me okay, Nanami. I'll definitely show you my skills! Haruka: I'll be supporting you! So good luck, okay!

Ch 5: (unlocked if you reached intimacy lvl 41 with Otoya)

-Park- Otoya: This time, our guests are all active professional soccer players! They will be playing against our regular team in a PK match. Haruka: (The filming has started. Ittoki-kun seems to be really excited today) Otoya: The rules are simple. With those players who are doing warm-ups right there, you just have to… Wow, that footwork moves just now are so awesome! Otoya: As I thought, professionals are just on a different level~ I wonder just how did they do it? …Ups, sorry! I ended up watching it without thinking! Otoya: I can't help but get excited when it comes to soccer. Let's get back on track and let me explain the rules! - Otoya: …It looks like we're all tied now after the opposing team's last kicker. If my shot can get through the goal after this, that means we'll win right? Co-star: Otoya-kun, I'm counting on you! Otoya: Leave it to me! …I'll make sure to bring victory with me. Haruka: (I can't exactly cheer him out loud, but if I can at least pray for him in my heart…) (choices) <(If it's Ittoki-kun, I'm sure he can do it)> Haruka: (If it's Ittoki-kun, then I'm sure he can do it. I believe that his shot will make it to the goal) Otoya: Alright…trust yourself. I'll be aiming right at the center. Otoya: Here I go… Shoot!! <(I hope he can get it in…!)> Haruka: (Let's pray so hard for him so that my feelings will be heard. Please, I hope he can get it in…!) Otoya: I can't afford to look bad in front of her especially when it comes to soccer. I'll absolutely…make sure to get it into the goal!! Otoya: Oh no, the ball is heading towards the post! Urgh…please keep it goingー!! (back to story) Otoya: Yaayy, I did itー!! Haruka: (Amazing…! Ittoki-kun's smile is so dazzling that it even makes my heart warms up as well…!) Otoya: Hey everyone, we did it! 1,2… High-five!

Ch 6: (unlocked if you reached intimacy lvl 51 with Otoya)

-Park- Otoya: See you again next time! …Phew, that was a lot of fun! Haruka: Ittoki-kun, good job on your work. That was a nice shot! Otoya: Thanks! Nanami, give me a high-five too! Otoya: I had a feeling that last shot was definitely going in. Because I knew you were cheering me on. Haruka: You mean, you heard me cheering for you? Otoya: Of course! Even if you didn't voice it out, your feeling was delivered enough. Haruka: (Ittoki-kun…) Haruka: Actually, when I saw Ittoki-kun's shining figure just now, I got some inspirations for my songwriting. Haruka: Your smile is so blinding the moment you made that shot… It's like you're the sun itself. Otoya: The sun… To think that's how I look like in your eyes. Although I feel a little bit embarrassed, I'm really happy to hear that. Otoya: Knowing that my goal could get you inspired like this, I feel like my joy of scoring a goal is doubled even more! Otoya: If you have free time like today, you can come and watch me again. I feel like I have more strength than usual when you're around. Otoya: Like maybe on our regular program "ST☆RISH Search!" for example. Oh, and I will also have drama filming too soon. Haruka: Thank you so much for your offer. If you don't mind, I'll make sure to visit you on set! Otoya: Hehe, it's a promise alright, Nanami! I can't wait for it.

[tempo-tales]

"-Welcome to the Wonderworld Mirror, or, La Madriguera. My name is Tempo and I am Maestro of Opportunity."

-Tempo? You're...a girl?

-Oh yeah, what's wrong with that?

-Mmm...no nothing, I love your appearance.

-Thank you and here we go... Your presence here is due to an opportunity to change your destiny, you need, according to the collective flow, the bond that unites the hearts and minds of all to be aware of...

-I don't understand you!

-Your problem. Hmm... you're supposed to be Oskar Leon Aksel Kristoffersen Bakken

-Just tell me...Oskar.

-Oskar III, future monarch?

-No... Well, yes. But I'm not quite what you think.

-Hohohoho~! More than clear is! And Wonderworld felt compassion for your intellectual weakness?

The lady lets out a laugh, while the young man looks angrily at the maestro's taunts"

[vitaminwaterreviews]

NCT 127 - Sticker

I really don’t know what to think about this album as a whole. Wikipedia tells me that it won a daesang at AAA, and it charted incredibly well. The title track was just SO weird, and not really in a good way. I know the incominggggg producer from some other songs, and this was definitely not my favorite work of his. The album managed to feel kind of empty to me, kind of like the fromis_9 album I listened to a couple days ago. But at the same time, I liked several songs, I liked their sounds and the neat extras that they did. The album was certainly cohesive, and the songs were distinct, so … I dunno why I didn’t really vibe with it as a whole. Maybe I’m just not in the mood. Average rating is 7.3, which I think is fair. There were some very good songs in here, many of which I’ll be adding to my playlist, but the album as a whole felt like it didn’t do enough for me. It is largely hip hop influenced, so maybe I’m missing some lyrical nuance, but I’ve gotta judge musically. That said, this is the second ever boy group album I’ve listened to, after Don’t Mess Up My Tempo (6.9), and I definitely did prefer this one, both in the rating and in actuality.

- Sticker

Very curious samples, as expected from NCT

Incomingggg

This MV feels very black mamba so far

Haha and then the piano just casually walks into it

I’m so confused

Like it’s original, sure, but I don’t get it yet.

Yeah, it’s no Cherry Bomb. Also I should mention that Cherry Bomb is the only NCT song I know

Oh okay well this section is different at least

I’m just not convinced, that wasn’t enough to really tie it together

7/10

Lemonade

This definitely feels more cohesive than the previous song

I notice the bass much more

I also really really like the vocalist’s tone hear, low and sultry

And now we build

Antidrop

Lol did he just skrrt?

He totally did haha

Yeah I thin OMG he just said Cherry Bomb ily

Yeahhh this is good

8/10, good, solid, I like it

Breakfast

Oh okay, nice and thicc bass, I like the beat

Yeah, house music, I do like house music

I dunno. It’s good, I don’t know if it does enough for me

Mmm I dunno what changed but I love the end here

8/10

Focus

And now our voices are high and light

This definitely feels like the least … intense of the songs so far

Like all the floaty and airy vocals

The background music is still Thicc and Bassy though

Except whatever that synth is doing the harmonies, that’s a cool sound

Nice little ad libs

Yeah I hear these vocal harmonies, don’t think I don’t

8/10

The Rainy Night

Well, we start with piano and vocalizations, as we’d expect

Haha what is this rnb slow jam bullshit, this isn’t the NCT we know and love

(I actually quite like this to be clear)

Actually this feels kind of Exo to me

8/10, very pretty, well produced

Far

What does this song remind me of?

This song totally reminds me of something

I love the vocal colors in the pre-chorus

I dunno though, again, I just want more out of this song. I feel like they’re relying a lot on their sound

Okay, the nananana part is nice, much needed

Ah, here we are, the SM bridge

7/10

Bring The Noize

No real comments so far, this is … kind of boring, musically

Even the pre-chorus vwooooom is kind of meh

Yeah, the chorus sure does noise

Damn even the SM bridge is kind of a letdown

I guess his low sexy voice is low and sexy

5/10, but don’t get me wrong. I think this song does what they want it to do perfectly, I just don’t like what they’re trying to do

Magic Carpet Ride

Haha and now we get some mellow electric piano stuff

I’m still not totally convinced

Also: in terms of the album so far, I like what they’re going for. It’s artsy, but cohesive, and that’s what we want in an album

7/10, good, nothing special

Road Trip

Haha and now we’re proper poppy

I dunno though, like I think Exo would do this song better for some reason

Not that NCT do it poorly, it’s just … kind of bland?

7/10

Dreamer

Trombone! A whole brass section, wow

I’ll tell you what, if nothing else, they’re trying to keep the album interesting all the way through

I do appreciate these vocal harmonies here, or the singing with rapping behind it, I dunno what it is

The chorus might be better if it wasn’t a group chorus

I’m reminded of Sweet Summer Day for some reason

7/10

Promise You

Woahh hear this bass in the background?

They’re definitely making it feel all epic like with those saws

And I love the intensity of the synth in the foreground

8/10

[hymnoire]

It is ugly, it is. It is human, it is. Mara listens to his words as a sweet composition of honesty and reassurance, hope and encouragements. It is rare for a woman like her to receive these : not because her coworkers or the few friends she has wouldn't say the words but she simply never reveals her frustrations and insecurities for anybody to tend to them with care. Inspector Lim Mara is known to be cocky, to break rules, to play dirty, to get what she wants and to gloat about it. Fearless, covered in a pride that must remained untouched. It does feel good, to have an ear, one who actually listens when she's vulnerable. She smiles briefly as he mentions the power she already has, the one she can't see : she does - however easily blinded by wanting more and more. "Mmmm I do hope this man will screw everything up, that they all will realize I was the better choice, that my hard work until now will speak for itself. It sadly is the type of position you keep once you have it, and that, no matter the mistakes you make. Our system is a little broken like that. It has its perks as much as it has its downsides." Indeed, to get promoted is difficult in the Force, to get demoted is just as rare - a simple mistake, even when intentional, is not enough for the biggest names to lose their pedestals. Mara too sometimes gets away with it, it would be oh so hypocritical of her to promote morals here and now. "Thank you for your advice, darling. For listening to me, too." Her words are wholeheartedly meant. Perhaps it is not over for her, perhaps he is right, perhaps if she proves herself one more time she could still guarantee herself a place at the table. Mara wears a tranquil smile on her lips as it travels her mind. His next line however does catch her off guard even though it isn't his intention. Her real voice he says? There is no sign of panic when she does realize she has dropped the act for the past few minutes, instead Mara decides to use his remark to smoothly dance her way back to the Mask Girl stage. Her chin now into the palm of her hand, her elbow down the desk as she leans forward, her eyes on the screen, her blonde hair swaying. "How can you be so sure this was my real one?" In order to toy around, play around with him, she pronounces that line in a total different voice, and surprise, with accent in her english that is not quite her korean accent. This voice is on a different octave and tempo, not as deep as her actual voice, not as light as Mask Girl's, slower as well, and the accent? South American. It is to show him she could wear any colors, any sounds, any moves she wants to. But hell, her being half portorican makes it easy to speak like a latina. "Don't you like this one a little more?" This line is almost whispered. Indeed, Mask Girl is an expert when it comes to blur the lines of the fantasy behind that mask of hers. "I can sound the way you want me to sound, Mon chéri." The smirkish smile she has on her lips does not wither when he asks what job position she is aiming for. Ah. Mara currently working in the cyber crime unit wants to get promoted to the homocide unit : bigger cases, a bigger rank, a bigger salary. The online network of extorsion against cam girls she is currently tracking was supposed to be her way out of cryber crime unit, her ground breaking success that would get her access to anything she wanted. The timing hasn't been so good on her. Now. Could she truly tell Tylio that she works for the Force so casually? Even with wanting to phrase it differently, it would be firing a bullet in her own guts but to hint on the creation behind Mask Girl's entire universe and lore. "Mmm, didn't I just say? A position that would give me enough power for my hunger to be satisfied..." Is the answer she gives him, now her free fingers drawing circles down the desk, her slmile widening. She won't give it to him, even if he asked for it.

Suddenly.

There is a knock on the door.

The interruption makes Mara's eyebrow raise. She doesn't expect any visits at such a time, not at her place, not during a week day. There is a moment of slience, she lightly freezes as soon as there is another knock following, pressed. The timing is bad as the camera is on, she's simply hoping the visitor will go if she doesn't give any response. The room Mara performs in has been emptied, organized, especially for Mask Girl to exist - the front door of her two bedroom apartment seems far enough for one not to hear the noise coming from it yet close enough for her to have a doubt about it.

"Delivery for Lim!"

And what she feared happened : the voice of a man behind the door then calls, shouts even. Heat. Rush. Her heart is racing as the tension is heavy in the room, her eyes fixated on the screen. Her throat turns dry, her blood spins inside her veins. Her last fucking name just has been pronounced. Tylio.. did he hear any of that? There is no word coming from Mara's mouth as her finger lands on the escape button, fast, canceling the call. On Tylio's screen : Mask Girl disappears. FUCK. She stands up and immediatly takes off what she has on : the wig, the mask, the jewerly - everything is ripped off and thrown down the ground violently.

Her steps are fast, heavy, furious as she runs to the door and opens it, her eyes full of rage landing on indeed : the delivery boy. Every night Mara has her dinner delivery programmed for 9pm. Isn't it too early for it?

"You're FUCKING early." Mara yells at the man, her fist banging against the doorframe in anger. This is Lim Mara - far away from Mask Girl's delicacy and florish language. A move that takes the delivery man aback.

"I ... am sorry but I do have a delivery for Miss Lim Mara at 9pm. So mmm.. h-here it is.." The man says, uncomfortable, handling her the paper bag.

Fuck. It slowly comes back to Mara's spirits that today, Tylio's call took place later than usual due to him coming online a little too late. Their calls are usually scheduled for 7pm, they last one hour, and end at 8 : it's their little routine by now. Mara's hands rip the paper bag out of the delivery man's hands to slam the door to his face. Her mind is slow these days, slowing down as she goes, spinning, not fast enough for her to keep up anymore. She is standing in the middle of her apartment's corridor realizing : her not sleeping, spending the night working on her secret case, existing as Mask Girl while simultaneously acting functional as Lim Mara during the day - it is completely messing with her cognition, her focus. Sloppy, she becomes sloppy. Mara hurries back in, as the wig and dress still lie on the floor, sitting behind her computer again, tossing the paper bag on the desk. A delivery for Lim. The line got spoken in Korean. Tylio does not understand korean, does he now? Or perhaps his ear is sharpened enough now to at least catch a last name. Lim is low in the list of common last names in Korea : there is more than 40% of the korean population's named Kang, only 1.7% named Lim. Well, that is still big enough for it not to be a hint. She hopes. Mara is typing now, as fast as she can, opening again all the forums, social media threads, blogs reporting every detail on Mask Girl. Her fingers tips are rubbing against her eyelids : perhaps he just didn't hear it, didn't understand it, if he did, would he share that, publish that? It's too small anyway, isn't it? But well, some creeps have posted screenshots of her moles so her entire last name is actually pretty big next to that... Her brain is foggy. No. Now is not the time to get paranoid out of absolutely nowhere. She has to focus. They have an online conversation, she opens it. After leaving the call so abruptly, he must wonder what just happened.

[ to T-Lio ] I apologize mon Amour.

[ to T-Lio ] I had to leave.

[ to T-Lio ] Mmm we still had 25 minutes left, that isn't fair on you. How about we catch up on them another day? Don't be mad at me, yes? 💋

Right. She has to fucking go to bed. Take a nap. Rest. Assuming he didn't understand a word but not tempting the devil by questionning him nor raise attention on something he shouldn't focus on too much : this can never happen ever again.

[rosy-cheekx]

for the kiss prompts... 16 with jonmartin?

Combined this New Years Kiss prompt with @ombreblossom‘s prompt for “a giggly kiss" and an anon prompt: “I wish you would write a fic where martin scoops Jon into his arms and Jon realizes how strong he is” damn if i dont deliver

Just a good vibes fic while I’m dying over the pre-finals stress. Check on your friendly neighborhood psychology students, especially juniors. They’re a-struggling. 

Enjoy!!

Resolutions, 2.2k

CW: alcohol

--

“Happy New Year’s Eve!”

Jon wasn’t sure what he expected of Tim’s house. Maybe something haphazardly designed, with takeaway menus pinned to the fridge? Maybe the epitome of the bachelor pad?

He definitely hadn’t expected the open floorplan, spotlessly cleaned and well-organized, with furniture complementary to the walls and each other. Warm light spilled from every lamp, with purple and silver decorations inscribed with “2015” and “Happy New Years” dangling from almost every surface.

“You can close your mouth now, buddy,” Tim elbowed him lightly. “I keep my spaces clean, what can I say?”

Jon clamped his teeth back together and held out a bottle of white wine mechanically. “I brought this. Er, sorry I’m late.”

Tim shook his head jovially, taking Jon’s coat and scarf along with the wine, before handing the bottle back to him. “Party’s just getting started. We’ve been drinking a bit, playing some games.” He winked before nudging him toward the couches, where Sasha’s dark curls were just visible. “Go on, I’ll be right behind. They’ll be happy to see you!”

“Jon!” The man in question jumped and craned his neck to see Martin—or, more rightly, his hand—from over the edge of the couch cushions. “Good, you’re here! Sash and Tim are kicking my ass in Scrabble.”

Jon approached the living room, spying Martin, sitting on the floor in front of a coffee table, another bottle of white wine between him and Sasha, along with the aforementioned Scrabble board. “Scrabble isn’t a team sport?”

“Hey, Jon. Ooh, more wine, thank god, this one’s just gone.” Sasha scrunched her nose with her greeting, reaching for the bottle in his hands. “And no, it’s not,” she continued as she spun a corkscrew between her fingers. “But Tim is missing like half the tiles so we can’t play four.”

“Tim’n’Sash ganged up on me,” Martin mumbled, the edges of his words softened, Jon assumed, by wine. “I didn’t even—I’m new to research, issnot fair.”

Sasha pulled the cork from the wine as Tim leapt over the cushion of the suede couch, landing neatly next to her. “I told you, you would get Jon when he showed up, which evens it out anyways. Stop pouting.”

“Am not.”

Jon folded his legs beneath his hips as he sat, examining the board and taking a proffered glass from Sasha’s hands. “Don’t worry, Martin,” he offered, smiling gently at the man, taking in the flush of his face and the rolled sleeves of his dress shirt—maroon, he filed away. Looks good with his hair. “We’ve just got to last long enough before Tim gets drunk or bored and starts to throw letters at us. Did he tell you that’s why they’re missing?”

Martin laughed aloud and the noise caught Jon off guard. It was a low, warm sound, loud in a way that suited the man. Jon smiled to himself, proud.

“I do-I do not,” spluttered Tim, pointedly ignoring Sasha’s raised eyebrow. “…I stopped that when we were down to one W.”

Jon nudged Martin, gesturing for the block of letters in front of him. “You’ll see. Our turn?”

--

Eight rounds, three glasses of wine, and a dodge from the letter E later, Jon was feeling properly comfortable. They were all properly buzzed, if not a little tipsy, and the clock ticked steadily closer to midnight. Martin and Jon had continued to be partners for all the other games they played: Charades, Pictionary, and a silly game Sasha had made up where they had to describe concepts like colors or sounds, without using words directly related to them. Martin had carried their team for that game, explaining through an embarrassed blush that he liked to read a lot of poetry. Jon elected to ignore that statement, though he was grateful for the edge it gave them; his competitive streak was willing to ignore a multitude of sins.

At 11:15, Tim flipped through the television programs, searching for one doing a proper countdown. One of the BBC Music channels was playing a Countdown playlist, with an eclectic variety of music on the playlist if the presented queue was any indication. Remote in hand, Tim spun on his heel, lip-syncing voraciously to the song, some dreadfully cheesy rock ballad. In turn, he focused on Sasha, then Jon, then Martin, hand outstretched to each of them in a mockery of longing. When he turned his attention back to Sasha, the chorus swelled and she took his hand, swinging herself under his arm with a grin on her face. Jon settled into the couch cushions, a warmth running through his chest as he watched the two spin with each other in a pseudo-dance. Martin sipped his glass of water on the other end of the couch, seemingly as happy as Jon to just watch.

As the song ended, the rock ballad was replaced by a pop song, one Jon didn’t know but it was apparent everyone else did. Tim sang along in a horrendous shout-sing, and Sasha grabbed Martin’s hand, tugging on it lightly. Martin rolled his eyes, resisting briefly as Sasha wordlessly argued with him, but her will was stronger and he laughed softly as she pulled him to his feet and jumped around to the beat, air-guitaring in circles around him. Eventually, Martin closed his eyes and leant into the dance, reminding Jon vaguely of his club days with Georgie, the dozens of hot, sweaty young adults without a care in the world of who saw them dance. And, most importantly, dance badly. Martin was truly terrible, but Jon was unable to tear his gaze away. He wasn’t matching the tempo and he knew about half the words as he joined Tim in singing the chorus, but there was something about him that was absolutely intoxicating, more than the wine Jon had consumed.

The Beatles played next, and of course Jon knew them. They had been his grandmother’s favorite, and for good reason. He hadn’t even realized he was singing under his breath to Come Together until Tim’s TV remote was shoved under his lips unceremoniously. Without thinking, he accepted the faux-microphone and joined the trio, standing from the couch to the coffee table in socked feet. As he sang, voice growing in intensity, he swung his arms wide, the images of clubs and dancers and stages at the forefront of his mind.

When the song ended, Jon was breathless, and the smattered applause from his friends brought him out of his reverie. He blushed, suddenly acutely aware of the blood rushing through his body and the heart that was pumping it. he handed the remote to Tim and moved to step off the table, chewing on his lip as he did so. Before he could make the awkward step to the floor below, he yelped as he was suddenly swept off balance. The spinning of his mind, thanks to the alcohol, confused him briefly before he realized he hadn’t fallen and was actually being clutched in a pair of strong arms, bridal-style. Martin’s arms, to be precise. His brow was furrowed in concentration, though he held Jon like he weighed almost nothing.

“Ah, you said you didn’t want to fall.” Martin shrugged and bounced Jon in his arms slightly as if that explained everything.

He had? “Mmm-thank you Mar’n,” Jon murmured, eyes unsure where to land and deciding on a loose curl that hung over Martin’s forehead. He wanted to pull it, Jon realized, and he did so, gently, giving the coil a tug, and giggled to himself as it sprang back in place. Martin was a lot stronger than Jon gave him credit for, and warmer too, though that may have been the alcohol. It was nice, being held like that, and Jon felt himself nestle towards the heat of Martin’s barreled chest without thinking about it.

Tim and Sasha, to Jon’s relief, hadn’t seemed to notice, deep in conversation. Martin deposited Jon safely on the couch and slumped next to him, unbuttoning his collar a little more and turning his attention quite intently to his phone.

The music carried on, and Jon was pulled into a few more dances with Sasha and Tim but felt himself gravitating towards Martin as the hour pursued, making excuses to scoot closer on the couch. A few videos of kittens later, he was properly next to him, watching Tim and Sasha tango to Britney Spears and the clock that ticked steadily towards midnight.

As 11:50 hit, Tim lowered the volume and flopped next to Jon, sweat beading on his forehead. “Alright, mates, resolutions for 2015, go.” He popped a grape from the platter that rested on the chair nearby. “Mine’s to get outside more, I haven’t been able to get out of London much. Maybe go backpacking, see the world.”

Sasha shrugged and perched on the armrest of the couch, feet resting on the cushion next to Tim. “Patience, I think. Listening to people better.”

Jon surprised himself by speaking. “Work-life balance,” he mumbled, dragging his eyes from the coffee table to meet Tim’s curious expression. “It’s not like Elias cares much what the researchers do.”

“Hell yeah, mate!” Tim clapped him on the back. “Maybe you’ll finally come dancing with me. You’ve clearly got the skills.” He turned his attention to the final member of their party. “Marto? What about you?”

Martin shrugged, lips pursed in thought. “Mm, be more honest with people, I think.”

Tim nodded excitedly. “Oh yes, I would love to see Martin Blackwood, The Director’s Cut.”

The ginger shrugged. “I don’t think you’re missing much, honestly, just maybe a little more negativity, a little more feeling.”

“Regardless,” Tim waved the thought away. “Can’t wait to see it.” He cast his eyes to the ceiling and crossed his arms under his chest. “What do you think the illustrious Elias Bouchard does on holiday? I swear that man lives and breathes Magnus Institute.”

Sasha grinned. “Bet he wears nothing but a silk robe, with the Magnus owl embroidered on the chest, skulking around the house and drinking scotch, grumbling about budgets and paranormal stories.”

“Bet he has a cat he strokes menacingly while watching the stock market,” Martin added, sighing. “We can agree he’s a total Tory, right?”

“Oh, for sure,” came a chorus of affirmation.

The group sat in comfortable silence as an upbeat love song played on the television. Jon’s eyes were starting to feel heavy, like how they felt when he got them dilated at the optometrist. Midnight couldn’t come soon enough.

“Hey, guys?” The voice from his right was quiet, hesitant. Martin’s eyes were glassy, phone abandoned on his lap. “I’m really happy to be here, with you all.”

“Martin!” Sasha and Tim cooed happily, rushing to coat his words in affirmations and gentle kindness, sweet gifts with which to end the year. Jon opted for a quieter approach, not the verbally affectionate kind of man, placing a hand over Martin’s gently, squeezing his wrist once. He wasn’t even sure if Martin noticed it—he didn’t move his hand before Tim was shouting, hauling them up as 11:59 flashed on the screen and a countdown began to shout its way from 59 on the screen.

“Come on!” Tim crowed. “My mum always said you can’t stand still when midnight hits, or it’s bad luck. Something about starting the year moving.” Tim led them all in a sort of march, stomping forward and back, spinning in circles, and swinging each of his friends under his arms, though Martin had to duck rather considerably. All four of the research staff members were laughing through their words as they tried to add their discordant shouting to the last few numbers on the TV.

“Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!” Tim grabbed Sasha around her waist and dipped her low as he kissed her, both grinning into the kiss. Jon chuckled and shook his head at the pair, before feeling the hand that was still on his tug gently.

“I-I said I wanted to be more honest,” Martin murmured, voice low in his throat. Jon nodded wordlessly, indicating for him to go on. His words seemed caught somehow.

“If I’m honest,” Martin continued, eyes flitting over Jon’s face before landing back on his eyes. “I really want to kiss you.”

Jon giggled, actually giggled at Martin’s words, the boldness of the wine piloting his voice for a moment. “What are you waiting for?”

So Martin did, one hand on Jon’s waist and one tangled in the hair behind his ears, pressing Jon close and up towards his lips. It was a warm kiss, soft and gentle, and Jon’s head was spinning, not from the buzz or the dancing but from the four points of contact he had with MartinMartinMartin Blackwood is kissing me and Martin’s hand is on my waist and my hand is on Martin’s cheek and his skin is so soft I think I could kiss him forever. Screw 2015; I’ll come back for 2016 and just kiss Martin for a year—

Martin pulled away, smiling down at Jon with a look of utter adoration. “Happy New Year,” he breathed. “Here’s to 2015.”

“H-Happy New Year,” Jon returned, ducking his head shyly at the gaze Martin was casting on him. “Let’s hope it’s a good one.”

[animedaddymilkers]

Kinkmas 2020: Day Six

Prompt: Mommy Kink w/ Ino

Genre: Smut/18+ || Tags: Mommy Kink, Lactation, Semi-Public || Characters: Ino Yamanaka, Gender Neutral Reader || read it on ao3 here

"I have a customer coming in soon. Are you going to be a good flower for me?" Your blonde girlfriend smiled at you, hand caressing your chin.

You nodded earnestly but were quick to use your voice once you saw her glare, "Yes mommy. I'll be your good flower. How… How long do you think it will take?"

"Now, little violet, you know I don't know that. But I know you'll sit there at the counter while I'm busy with the customer," She patted the top of your head and made sure to help you pull your pants back up.

The faint buzz of the vibrator inside of you made your face heat up, Ino merely smiling at your reaction and walking out to the store front. For a moment, you gathered your wits about you before following after the blonde. As you sat down on the stool behind the counter, the vibrator increased. One of your hands awkwardly slapped down onto the wood slab in front of you, gripping at the smoothness. The gasp was thankfully caught in your throat and you composed yourself again, flashing a slight glare to your mommy. It didn't help a bit, quite the opposite really, seeing as how wide she was smirking and reached into her pocket again, making you go stiff. Without actually seeing it, you knew the remote to your current torture was in that purple pocket.

By some divine miracle, before she could up the tempo again, the customers she mentioned entered the store. Her customer service voice immediately rang through the air and you hoped it was enough to distract her from you. How wrong you were. For a while, the dull vibrations only turned you on, wetting the underwear underneath the skirt your girlfriend specially picked out for you. Then, as the customers were examining some daisies, the tempo picked up without warning, by the feel of it she turned it by two notches. Always such a damn tease, Ino was. You nearly fell apart just sitting at the counter, quietly trying to work yourself through your orgasm. The worst case scenario was the customers realized what was going on and you were determined for that not to come true.

Your hand fanned your face before muffling a moan as you felt a second orgasm approach you. Kami, if she would just turn it down a notch you could recover a bit- Fuck! If she could read your thoughts right now, she purposely did the opposite of what you wanted. The stupid silicone inside of you vibrated harder and you inconspicuously turned the radio on to hide the quiet whirring. At this rate, your juices would be running off the stool if the customers didn't just hurry the hell up. Thankful that they were still distracted, you rocked back and forth as you were sent through a second orgasm. You had no time to even bask in the climax because the vibrator didn't let up, forcing you to just ride straight into the build up of the next impending orgasm. Even though you respected and cherished each paying customer, in this point and time, those damn customers could not leave the store fast enough.

Just when you thought you were going to bang your head against the counter, the customers shook Ino's hand. A quick tune-in let you know they agreed to pick up the arrangement tomorrow and you said your silent thank you's. Your girlfriend saw them out and you bit your lip in anticipation. She left you a mess at the counter for far too long and you were desperate for more. Desperate for her.

"Is my baby enjoying themself?" the question was playful and teasing as she flipped the open sign and locked the door.

The only noise that fell from your lips was a long whine, a noise that made Ino chuckle as she turned to face you. The look of pure lust on your face made her smirk as she walked towards where you were seated. You lifted your hips slightly, letting another whine from your lips. It was a needy noise, a noise that hopefully conveyed what you couldn't put into words. Ino laughed quietly at your reaction and slowly sauntered over, her hands groping her chest as she finally gave into her own temptations. Just knowing that you were over here getting lost in pleasure had her soaking wet herself. As she played with it she realized just how heavy and full her chest was. All she wanted was that pretty mouth of yours wrapped around her tits and she wasn't going to wait any longer. By the time she reached the counter you were shaking through another orgasm and thankfully, this time she turned the vibrator fully off. You whined again, panting as you came down from your high and began to paw at her clothing.

"Mommy… Mommy please, I'm hungry, I wanna taste you, mommy. I've been such a good flower," your eyes, as glossed over as they were, looked up into hers pleading for what you really needed.

Luckily for you, she was also past the point of holding back and nodded, "Of course darling, I'd never let you go hungry. Mommy has so much for you too. They're so full they hurt, flower."

Now, it was Ino's turn to blush as she admitted her circumstance and unbuttoned her shirt to unleash her boobs. Her tits were already hard and wet, slowly dripping milk from them, ah the curses of being as big chested as Ino. Though you were more than willing to help her with her struggles. The vibrator still occupying the space inside of you, you leaned forward and wrapped your mouth around a nipple after locking it. The effect your secret show had on Ino was evident, the second your tongue made contact with her skin she moaned, fingers flying to the back of your head. She caressed your head gently as you began to suck, reveling in the assurance that relief was soon to follow. You sucked on her nipple, being rewarded with the slow spurt of milk in your mouth not long after. Ino sighed heavily, a soft moan following and she rubbed your scalp soothingly, her need to take care of you still ruling over her other emotions.

With a dutiful vigor, you helped slowly drain her tits of the built up fluids. Really, the taste wasn't bad, it might have been an acquired taste, but you loved it enough to keep coming back for more. Ino stroked the sides of your face, her butterfly touches letting you know how much she cherished you. Meanwhile, your own hands wandered her body, eventually zeroing in on that tight skirt of hers. The figure hugging material always drove you wild. You bunched the material up before sliding a hand between her thighs. Her legs quickly spread, silently begging you for more. To which you were happy to comply with, fingers tracing along her slit, reveling in the feel of her soaked panties. Ino's head leaned back as she sighed, all her pent up feelings finally being acknowledged. Her underwear were ripped off of her waist, an action to which you'd have to apologize for later. Your fingers prodded against her teasingly before easily slipping inside.

Meanwhile, you still sucked at her tit, relieving one while letting the other tit suffer and drip slowly. One of her hands steadied herself on the counter, a leg being propped up on a rung of the stool beneath you. The new position gave you easier access, allowing you to slide your fingers in deeper, curling them slightly. Your other hand played with her clit, gently tugging the bundle of nerves before rubbing circles against it. A soft curse left her mouth, followed immediately by reassuring praises. She tried to keep her composure during times like these, but the faint shake of her legs told you all you needed to know. After you were sure the boob you were sucking from was nearly drained, you switched to the other one. The one that was dripping milk still, begging to be sucked by you like the other one was. Again, you gave a teasing lick before wrapping your lips around it, savoring the forceful squirt of liquid into your mouth.

"Flower… you feel so good. I love when you're good for me like this. A-After we're done here, mmm, we're going to take a niceee bath," she moaned and gripped your head, "with chamomile…and some lavender…"

You're sure she was going to say eucalyptus too, as it was the go-to bath combination for her, but the last ingredient was lost in a gasp. She moaned again and her hips moved forward, trying to fuck herself on your fingers. Your fingers obliged, moving faster in and out of her pussy the way you knew drove her wild. At this point you were done dragging it out, the mentioned bath seeming more and more inviting with each passing minute. The only things keeping you on the stool was the moans Ino made and the warm liquid in your mouth. Your lips sucked faster, drawing more of her milk out while you curled your fingers inside of her. Ino's hand that wasn't on the counter went to your shoulder to further steady herself. Her orgasm wasn't too far away, if the way her legs moved was any way to tell. She gasped and panted hard, almost whining as desperately as you were twenty minutes ago. You stopped thrusting and instead rubbed against her g spot repeatedly, throwing her into climax as her cum coated your hand.

She squealed and moaned through her orgasm before gripping your shoulder harder. Her pants were heavy and fast as she came down, vision once again returning to see you release her tit with an exaggerated pop sound. Immediately after sex she became shy and almost embarrassed, the lewd sound making her cheeks redden. She looked away for a moment and got herself together a bit, skirt being pulled back down over her now bare ass. Though she went without buttoning her top, chest far too sensitive now to confine it behind cotton. It was in moments like these she was happy your shared house was connected to the flower shop. That bath sounded like heaven now as you moved to follow her, only being starkly reminded of the toy still inside of you after you stood. Ino turned around and laughed at you, her playful nature back in full force again. You couldn't wait to do this again.

hope you enjoyed! remember likes & reblogs help me reach more people! :D

[dandaelions]

finally some good fcking food aka "empathy" thoughts

I woke up bright and early, got dressed, made some coffee and cut up some peaches, warmed up a croissant that I got from a local bakery yesterday, and sat down to listen with a ksoo-state of mind. then my supervisor suddenly asked me to join a meeting (so much for blocking off my calendar 🙃) aaaaand then I got busy all day lol but now I've finally got some free time to soak this in

rose: a simple acoustic track – more brighter and upbeat than “that’s okay” but still in the same vein. it feels a bit run-of-the-mill if I’m being completely honest, but that's probably just me and the fact that I don’t usually go for acoustic songs like this lol. gosh the lyrics are cute though, songwriter ksoo came through with the romantics 😊🌹💕 can definitely see how they were gunning for widespread listenability with this one. also the mv was so whimsical and fun! it made me laugh in a few places, not to mention ksoo going about his day without a care in the world is all I really care about seeing. the animations were so cool!

I’m gonna love you: less folk, more contemporary pop with that guitar lick in the intro. I had to pause and replay ksoo’s first bit here, I just couldn’t believe that was him! whoa this kinda of pseudo-rapping is quite a different sound from him. his lower register is so smooth omg. oh yeah now that's a beat drop!! LOVE the chorus! not familiar with wonstein but I'm surprised to hear a rap feature on this album, I didn't think that would be something ksoo would go for but it sounds really good here! their little harmonies YAH. also adlibs yesssss!! for those of us hoping for an r&b song, here it is!

my love: he brought the whole soundstage for this one, mmm yes love this chill down-tempo vibe. oh gosh he's mixing just the perfect amount of falsettos and growl into some of these lines here, he's so good at creating those smooth-harsh edges if that makes any sense lol. not to bring bbh into this but I’d really love to see ksoo perform this song as a duet with him!

It’s love: oh man he sounds GOOD good! ooooh wow all those flourishes and accidentals and runs oh my god. THIS is the song for the live lounges! the stripped-back instrumentals let him be front-and-center on this one, oh I really hope he performs this one live!! the hushed strings add that romantic vibe that really makes it feel like he's serenading us 🥰 ooh when he goes down an octave in that last part and then back up again OH MAN

dad: this brought tears to my eyes, what a beautiful and touching tribute 🥺 oh no I looked up the lyric translations and now I'm crying 😭 my dad and I tend butt heads a lot, and growing up I didn't understand why, but as I've grown older I've realized it's because we're so similar, and at the end of the day he's sacrificed so much for me :((( anyways not to get super deep and personal but just hearing the raw emotion in his voice brought up a lot of my own emotions too. I'm sure his dad is very proud of him right now :)

^^me going from "dad" to "I'm fine"

I’m fine: ALRIGHT HERE’S THE RIFF THAT’S BEEN HAUNTING ME FOR THE PAST TWO WEEKS. oh god that intro 💆‍♀️💆‍♀️💆‍♀️!!!! a little darker than the previous tracks – the bass and guitar infuse some latin flavor here. hoo WOWWWWWW the way he weaves his voice (which he sounds just DIVINE here) around those instrumentals, also LOVE the way his enunciating the lyrics, like plucking guitar strings, and is this in a harmonic minor key? the way this ebbs and flows and goes up and down and the way he slips into falsettos oh my god this song alone fed me better than whole albums have this year, I cannot imagine anyone other than ksoo doing this justice. this song just is a big steaming mug of spiced hot chocolate. also can we just give it up for songwriter ksoo I looked up the translation and yeah big hit of sweet melancholia right here. my fave song on the album!

rose (eng ver): oh sheet I don’t know if anything would’ve prepared me for “your lips look so fine and you’re looking so cool” but the damage is done my hp is at -2 🤕 these lyrics are cute too! but I think I prefer his korean lyrics over these :) ofc he sounds like he's been speaking english his whole life adskjfdkj it's so amazing how he preserved all of those vocal details from the korean version

si fueras mia: the spanish ver of “it’s love…I really can’t believe that’s HIM singing this omg what I would give to see a live performace of this. I’m not a spanish speaker (all I have are two years of high school Spanish to my name 😔) but like he's actually blowing the pronunciation out of the water!! absolute mad props for putting a spanish song on his debut ep, that was a bold move and it paid off! if I had to choose, I like this version better. again, so blown away by how he sung this the exact same way as the korean version, that's not an easy feat!!

overall: I mean what more can I say, this is what people have waited YEARS for and it's finally here. in true ksoo form, it doesn't try too hard to impress or demand your attention. its simplicity is its charm, and in a landscape of blaring electronica, it's a warm soothing escape. I'm happy 😊

[vitaminwaterreviews]

Exo - Don't Mess Up My Tempo

This is the first boy group album that I’ve ever heard. The only other male album I’ve listened to was D-Day, which was wildly different from this in like, every way. So I went into this one with basically no expectations, and I got … Red Velvet, but male, basically? The title track was fun, I’ll definitely be listening to it more. The b-sides were all way less interesting to me. Mostly slow r&b, lots of pretty vocals, but I don’t really care for those when girl groups do it. And I prefer female vocals to male vocals.

The a capella section in Tempo was SO cool. I know I just mentioned not really caring for pretty vocals, but a capella music is totally different. Same with The Grace - they teased us with a bit of a capella, and then didn’t follow through with it. And, same as The Grace, the remainder of the album was kind of disappointing.

The question that this album raises for me: do I just prefer female vocals, and therefore I won’t ever enjoy boy group music the same amount? Or is this album just not music that I enjoy? I suspect it’s the latter; Tempo was super fun, and there are other boy group songs that I really like. But more listening is necessary. Maybe I’ll check out some of Exo’s titles, and see what I think. Average score of 6.9 which might be a bit harsh, but … this album was a slog, especially near the end. So fair enough.

- Alright, I don’t actually know any Exo songs at all. I’ve got a few Kai songs on my playlist, and I heard Jopping once, and that’s the extent of my knowledge of Exo’s music. So let’s hear this.

Tempo

We’re super synthy in the intro here

Okay, now we’re a bit more r&b

And now we’re bassy

Mmmm nothing like singing over a rap, love that

Haha the “hold on, woww” was fun

Mmm the bridge is nice, I wish that guitar(?) in the background was louder

Oh my god the a capella section is going to kill me

I dunno what to rate this tbh, it’s either an 8 or a 9

9/10, good song with some Really cool moments, but I don’t really buy the chorus

Sign

Oh woah, okay, we’re all aggressive and bassy

This is like, a good song, kind of predictable though? Like it’s not Doing too much other than that crunchy bass

Rap bridge, as expected

Well, I guess I didn’t expect that outro?

7/10

Ooh La La La

A little lofi now, alright

This is nice actually, super pretty harmonies over this lofi beat

Bridge is pretty, very Exo from what I know of Exo

Honestly, more than anything else, they remind me of Red Velvet, but male

7/10

Gravity

All electronic-y

Okay that was a cool 10 seconds, at the end of the chorus and the beginning of the second verse

I’m starting to think that my main issue is with male vocals, because I feel like I’d enjoy this song way more if Red Velvet did it

Mkay, this rap verse hits at least

7/10

With You

Y’know what I wanna hear? A ballad. Let’s hear an Exo ballad.

Welp, it sure isn’t this song

I do quite like the sonic space we’re in though

Mmmm this rap section is nice

Boy group raps hit different

8/10

24/7

Hmmm I dunno about the whistle

Yeah, I dunno about this song as a whole tbh

If Red Velvet released this album I don’t think my opinion on it would be much different

Because it feels like Velvet concept RV and that’s not my jam

6/10

Bad Dream

More of the same

If this is your genre of music then I’m sure you’re all over this album

I… am not

6/10

Damage

Mkay, we’re a bit more aggressive here

Opening with a rap, alright

I can’t tell if the vocals are the issue or if I just don’t totally like this song

Again though, if Red Velvet did this song, I’m not sure I’d like it more

6/10

Smile On My Face

Floaty and synthy

Bruh this sounds so first gen to me for some reason

6/10

Oasis

This song is pi minutes long

Opening is alright, we appreciate the sudden stops

And here’s our beat, but it’s doing the sudden stop thing too

And now we build

Oh okay, we’re like, epic

7/10

[radicalbillie]

Love at first bite

Pt 3

The sun was high in the sky over the sword coast, the sea glittering beneath it as if someone had cast a bag of diamonds over it.

Ashe stopped to close her eyes and breathe in the salt spray, listening to the crashing tides. Suddenly there were graceful paws on her right shoulder.

"Where are we going?" Fredrick asked, looking excitedly forward.

"I don't know... I was thinking Waterdeep, catching a ship somewhere I've not been." She replied to her vulpine friend.

"You'll need those clinky things for that."

He then wrapped his tail around her shoulders like a scarf. Smiling and scratching at his ear she turned to her left, and proceeded up the beach.

"They're called coins, you know- money, currency."

"I don't know why you two legs need so many names for one thing."

"Hah. Well in order to get clinky things; I'll need something to sell."she puffed. "Maybe someone in the city needs an herbalist, or some pelts."

"Don't look at me!" He lept to the sand.

"Not YOUR pelt... maybe we could find..." she trailed off.

The world around her instantly stopped moving, like a painting frozen in time.

"I wasn't cold." She mumbled.

This memory was different, it was always warm, the sun bright. Her body must have been chilled. Suddenly everything grew fuzzy, and then slowly faded into blackness. She watched the fox drift away as she awoke.

'I miss you Fred.' Her last thought before her eyes could see the waking world again.

There was something white and fuzzy right in front of her face, and a very cold touch on her shoulders.

The image began to clear, as she blunk herself awake.

"Astarion? What are you..."

He jumped, startled. His cold hands leaving her shoulders as he jerked back. Her white night shirt had been pulled down around her arms and his eyes looked tired and frightened. Guilty even, as her glare sliced into him.

"...shit." was all he could manage to say as the panic set in.

"STOP!" Ashe squealed, pulling her shirt up.

"No-no." He backed away raising his hands defensively as he stood. "It's not what it looks like- I swear!"

She didnt scream to his surprise, she only squeezed her knees to her chest giving him a troubled look. Those big doe eyes caught him so off guard; more than if she had just screamed.

"I-i wasn't going to hurt you!" He backed up another step. Eyes whipping back and forth, anywhere but at her.

" I just needed... well, blood."

In that moment everything finally clicked. The dead boar, his cold hands, his opting to keep watch every night. She sized him up and down, his head turned away eyes closed, he was ashamed.

"How could I have not seen it..." she smirked at her own stupidity. "Those teeth... we even found your lunch lying in the road."

"It's not what you think! I'm not some monster." He was quite defensive.

"I feed on animals, boars, deer, kobalds. Anything I can get."

His eyes had a strange glow about them, like Nyla when she stalked prey. But still there was no insincerity in his voice. His usual flirtatious swagger was gone. He looked scared, lost even.

"It's not enough... not if I have to fight. I feel so, weak. If I just had alittle blood; I could think clearer- fight better. Please..."

Her features hadn't shifted at all, she was tricky for him to read. He had always been good at reading people, but she was a strange one.

"Why didn't you just tell me?" Her posture finally relaxed.

He sighed... he was so thirsty.

"At best I thought you'd say no, at worst I thought you would ram a stake through my ribs... no. I needed you to trust me;"

Their eyes met, remaining fixed together.

"You CAN trust me." He breathed.

Perhaps it had become a force of habit for Ashe to help the downtrodden. Or maybe she'd developed a fondness for things with sharp teeth.

"Okay." She sighed. "I am choosing to trust you."

"Thankyou." Astarion felt a weight lift off of him.

But Gods he was still parched.

"Do you think you could trust me, just... alittle further?"

She raised an eyebrow. His stance grew more defensive, his hands guarding his torso.

"I only need a taste, I swear."

He needed to know. She pitied him enough, he could use it.

"Fine, but only what you need to take the edge off."

"Really?" He was genuinely taken aback.

But he couldn't let it on;

"Of course. Not a drop more." He smiled.

He kneeled down to her level, and Ashe offered him her wrist.

"What's this?" He arched his brows.

"Bite here." She replied flattly.

"Ahh, I was thinking at the base of the neck."

"Are you seriously being choosy about this?" She spat through gritted teeth.

"Not al all." He chuckled. "The skin on the neck is thin, and has a heavy amount of blood flow. Strictly speaking it's the logical choice."

"Oh-okay, just... just do it before I change my mind." She sputtered, suddenly nervous.

She shut her eyes tightly, turned her head to the right and braced. He moved his weight into his knees. Long cool fingers brushed her copper locks over her left shoulder.

His hands moved carefully, delicately pulling her shirt down over her arm. His red eyes glanced to her face for a moment, her eyelids and jaw clenched tightly.

His hunger boiled in his stomach when he looked at her bare neck. Finally, he struck; hard and fast. A small yelp escaped her, his fangs like two large icy shards in her tender flesh. She gripped his arms in reflex to the pain.

It didnt last however, when his fangs withdrew the ice went with it. He pulled her warm body closer to his own, lips cupping tightly over the wound. He drank of her, his throat coated with the warm rich blood of a thinking creature.

She tasted better than anything in his memory. He began to guzzle her up with wild abandon. The more he drank, the less pain she felt.

She looked up at the stars. She could smell his hair, feel his tongue lap over her skin. Her breathing caught, sucking air through her open mouth. Ashe leaned into Astarion, running her slender fingers through his feathery curls.

"Mmm."he was breathing hard through his nose.

"Mmm..." he wrapped his arms around her back for better leverage.

Each one pulling at the other, they could feel each others hearts racing, beating on the same tempo.

A numb throb spread over her in waves. She held his head in her hand, turning her face toward him. She felt good, this felt good... not quite arousal though, there was something off about it.

She was getting light headed.

"Astarion..." her voice was weak. It was hard to think.

Her fingers gripped his locks, trying to get his attention. Her lips pressed to his ear, she had to make him stop.

"Astarion, it's too much." It came out breathy, barely there.

He could hear it, his delicate ear could feel her lips- he couldn't pull himself away. His body felt warm again, he could feel her. He could FEEL.

"Please..." she whimpered.

That got the attention of something deep inside of him. Suddenly he jerked his head back;

"Ahh... hah. Ha." He gasped for air like he'd been running.

"Apologies..." mouth still full of blood.

It dripped down over his chin as he moved himself away.

"Got lost in the moment."

She cupped her hand over her neck as he found his way to his feet, still licking his lips.

"It worked..." he could ignore orders.

Their eyes met again.

"I feel good... strong. I feel- happy." He smiled.

Ashe managed a weak smile in return.

"Looking forward to seeing you in action."

"Shouldn't take long- so many people need killing. Now if you'll excuse me, you're invigorating but I need something more filling."

He turned to leave, though to own the truth he had downplayed his gratitude. He stopped, glancing back at her from the side of his eye, she seemed... well enough.

"This is a gift you know. I won't forget it."

[salenakingston]

Mystery March Day 26 - Hellbent

I've been hellbent, baby

Hellbent on loving you all day long

Hellbent on drugs cause they turn you on

Don't know what else to do

They pulled along the side of the road, having fled from the terrors of the mansion. None of them were sure what to make of the whole thing, most certainly the blonde that seemed to become the ghost’s primary target. He didn’t know who the ghost was, so why was it coming after him with such vengeance? What had he done to this ghost? Was it possible the specter was making some kind of mistake? Maybe mistaking him for someone else?

Vivi seemed just as confused as he was. Sure, she had all the knowledge about this field, but even with all that, she couldn’t come to a conclusion. If he were a wraith, or some other kind of vengeful spirit, then he would be chasing after someone that likely had to do with his death.

Since when did peaceful, coward Arthur even have the capacity to kill anyone?

It was impossible.

Both of them did their best not to worry about it. They were away from the building, having glanced back for enough time to see it vanishing from the lot. If the ghost wasn’t coming after them, then they could afford a little time to catch their breath before getting back on the road. Vivi pulled out the smaller bedroll, setting up to get some sleep. The blonde watched her, resting along the bumper of the van. Both the back doors were open, his back pressed against the left side. Amber eyes fell on his friend, watching her drift to sleep before he pulled his laptop into his lap. She’d probably be yelling at him to get some sleep otherwise. At the very least he needed to make sure he updated their map.

Then he could do a check on the van and get them back to Tempo. They weren’t too far away from him. The search for Lewis could take a small break to make sure the bluenette was taking care of herself. He didn’t really matter.

Mmm, I've been hellbent, baby

Hellbent on making you love me too

Even though not what I'm 'sposed to do

I don't give a damn, mmm

Arthur couldn’t help but stare at the head of the ghost head he drew as an icon for the map. He found himself looking between this icon and the ones he made for Lewis. It hurt him to see the similarities between the two of them, even making him feel a little sick. Lewis couldn’t be dead. He was just missing. His best friend was lost, and he was going to bring him back home… no matter what it took.

Laptop closed, pushed to the side, tools grabbed, and creeper dragged to the front of the van. It wouldn’t hurt to get a look at the underside while he was still up. Vivi and Mystery could look after themselves for a few minutes. It’s not like they were in any danger right now. Given that fact, and that he wouldn’t allow for even the smallest mistake, it gave him all the time he would need.

Once it was all taken care of, everything was carefully placed in the back, rear doors shut, and the blonde made his way to the front seat. In a brief moment of panic, he pressed himself against the shut door, Mystery sitting up front with him rather than in the back. Deep down, he hated this feeling. There was no reason to fear the dog before, but now there was. A nervous tick caused his hand to clutch at the metal wrist.

Mystery was ignoring him. His attention was on a single flower petal. Strange…

Why did he look so scared?

Swallowing his fear, the blonde found all the courage he had, bringing his remaining, real hand over towards the dog, feeling his fingers move through that strange hair. He could see a smile move along the dog’s muzzle, just as his head turned to press more into Arthur’s hand. That was all he needed to set all his current worries at ease.

They were getting on the road again.

Then the van was losing power.

Angry eyes appearing in the rear view window.

A magenta and black truck speeding toward them!

I've been hellbent, baby

I've been hellbent, baby

So much was happening so fast. First his arm short circuits, then he pushes the van to the fastest speed it could go, and finds that not even a tunnel could stop this thing from chasing after them. As if that wasn’t bad enough, now there was some strange blue lady on the front of the van, bashing the glass with… scissors? Who carried around oversized scissors as a weapon? And for the cherry on top of it all, Vivi had managed to knock herself out with own bat at the start of the chase.

Arthur was quite literally on his own for this one, but what was he supposed to do? The only priority he could see was getting away from the truck. What was he supposed to do about their hood riding attacker? He couldn’t do anything. The one hand he had remaining had to be used to drive!

Then the tire pops. The grinding of metal filled his ears.

Their blue attacker was thrown off, but now he was stuck trying to control a vehicle that was out of control. The blockade at a gap in the guard rail was easily taken out, the appearance of Kingsmen Mechanics coming overhead. They were going to-

CRASH.

It's been too long, baby

It's been too long, baby

How long was he lying against the dashboard? The last thing he remembered before everything started going black was the red of brick filling his vision. He supposed he should be lucky he hadn’t gone flying through the open window. He must have been able to turn the van enough that the crash sent him in a different direction other than forward.

But he couldn’t just lay here in darkness. What about Mystery? What about Vivi? He had to make sure they were alright. With Lewis missing, it was his job to look out for them. That’s what his best friend would have wanted. He just had to push himself up with his arm. Get up.

Get up.

My eyes wide shut

My eyes wide shut

He hadn’t felt himself being dragged out of the van, though the first thing he was made aware of when his eyes opened was that he could see the whole van. Outside? How did he get here? Did Mystery or Vivi somehow get him out? Maybe his uncle did… as they were still at Kingsmen Mechanics. If his uncle was still here late, then maybe he was able to get the blonde out before the truck got here first.

But one look to his side told him otherwise.

There was the ghost from the mansion, tightly gripping the front of his shirt.

Arthur could swear if his eyes got any wider they would pop out of their sockets. A shriek was the only thing he could think to have escaped from his mouth. With his gaze so focused on the ghost, he could see the subtle change in expression along his skull. He seemed almost… concerned? Confused? It was a little hard to tell when he was scared out of his wits. How much he wanted to be as far away from this as possible. Better yet, he needed to just make sure the other two were alright.

And I feel your touch

And I feel your touch

Too bad the ghost had other plans.

One toss was all it took for Arthur to fall into darkness again. At least this time he wasn’t knocked out. He was very aware he was falling down into something. This couldn’t have been the back of a semi-truck if he was falling down this far. Screams poured out of his mouth, metal limb dangling at his side. He could feel himself landing on something, something hard.

Where was he? There was no light.

He could feel one thing under his hand. Carpet? In a truck? None of this was making any sense. His head turned up to the sight of a small purple light floating towards him. It was just like the same light that made its way to the candles in the mansion. This time though, it seemed to split, the small purple ghosts with yellow hearts forming. His body trembled, immediately pushing himself to his feet.

He didn’t waste any time waiting around. He dashed for the opening in the… cave? When there was a split in the path, he began to head down the right path… only to be blocked off by more of those ghosts. With another startled yelp, he turned for the left opening, finding himself spinning his arm at the edge of a cliff. He managed to get his balance. A sigh released.

Then a grip once more on his shirt. He was lifted into the air, his hand moving up to grab onto the ghost’s arm. His feet kicked in the air, eyes staring down at the spires resting beneath him. A yelp, his metal arm finally getting enough movement to also rest on the arm, terrified eyes staring at the one chasing him all this way. Flames covered over his skull, and when they died down, the blonde felt like he might cry. A familiar face was staring back at him.

Oh, and I'll prove you wrong

Oh, and I'll prove you wrong

“Lewis?”

He wasn’t being held up anymore.

You make me strong

You make me strong

Shock filled his mind. The one determined to get him, that showed no qualms about causing him and his friends harm, was the very person he had been searching for all this time. Why? He just wanted to understand why. What had he done that caused Lewis to hate him this much? Did he not try hard enough to find him? Should have done more sooner? Just…

Why?

I said all I need is

All I need is

All I need is

All I need is you

Pain struck him in the back, then heat raced through his chest. Coughs were released into the air, blood pouring down to the ground and from his mouth. He had no where to look but up. He was going to die here… wasn’t he?

He could see a familiar skull come into view. Somehow… Arthur managed a smile on his face. He reached up for the ghost, surprised when the black hand wrapped around it. His tone was so low, “L-Lewis.. I found you.. I finally… found you…”

He did it… he brought Lewis home… no matter what…

Lewis was shaking, feeling the heat leave his friend’s hand.

He did it… he got his revenge… no matter what...

[radramblog]

Radiohead Retrospective Part 8: Slowly we unfurl

Last week I compared The King of Limbs to Kid A, a reference I find completely natural. Both albums use significant electronic and ambient instrumentation, especially compared to the albums preceding them, and both feature stark, surreal imagery and lyricism. Kid A is a response to the band’s discomfort at getting huge, while The King of Limbs is a response to them deliberately getting much smaller after cutting ties with EMI/Parlophone.

I’m also pretty sure that comparison really pisses off a bunch of people who really like Kid A and really don’t care for The King of Limbs. And they’re entitled to their opinion, but they’re wrong. Album’s great.

Aside from potentially the spookiest cover of any Radiohead album, TKOL as it’s so abbreviated happens to be the shortest Radiohead album, clocking in at 8 songs and under 38 minutes (for reference, the longest one is Hail to the Thief at 14 songs/~57 minutes). It does not, however, seek to be wasting any of those minutes, despite the often looping nature of its songs, each drizzled in enough Stuff Going On that it feels much deeper than that short timeframe makes it seem.

That, or I just get lost in the groove.

While the comparison to Kid A is probably getting a bit old at this point, I think I’d like to reiterate it by comparing the opening seconds of Everything in its Right Place to that of TKOL’s opener, Bloom. EIIRP opens with this ultimately simple electronic line that feels cold and robotic, and while Bloom’s opening moments are still obviously electronic, they’re clearly made of something more lifelike. And by that, I mean it sounds a lot like a heavily edited, chopped, and looped piano line, one that folds itself into the very genuine percussion loops that follow. It’s a difference of tone, this life against the coldness of silica, even though the two are obviously both computer-made.

I don’t think Bloom truly comes into its own until that bassline comes in. Fortunately, it only takes like a minute for that to happen, with the incredibly ethereal and reverb-y vocals soon to follow. The bass is ultimately incredibly simple, but it adds such a grounding to the other instrumentation, those rapid, looping, high-pitched tracks that go on and on et cetera. And then you get about a two-thirds of the way in and the brass and strings come in that I had entirely forgotten about, but are so pretty, during the bridge (?), it’s genuinely quite lovely.

I wouldn’t call Bloom a banger, because it’s not that type of song. But at the same time, Bloom is a banger, basically.

By comparison, Morning Mr Magpie feels much more organic, in that more of the instrumentation being looped is acoustic/”real”. There’s a very delicate and deliberate guitar strum that the song is built around, with a similar but looser bassline meandering around in the background as it goes. MMM is much more built around the vocals than Bloom was (apparently the bass and vocals were the last things to be added to that track), more concrete images developed, and an actual verse/chorus/verse/chorus structure which feels a little strange on an album like this.

The instrumentation on this track feels anxious, the guitar and percussion reminding me of drumming my fingers on the table in impatience or nerves, but it’s so uncomfortable that it can’t get it perfectly rhythmic.

And frankly, this song does make me uncomfortable. You see, magpies in the UK have an association with thievery, collecting, and having an eye for shiny things. In Australia, magpies are associated with pecking people’s eyeballs out. So there’s a bit of a disconnect between countries and species is what I’m saying.

At some point I had decided that Little by Little was my favourite song on TKOL, and while I can’t really justify that, but I will (for now) stand by it. It’s got some excellent instrumentation- jingly background loops sounding like a machine, or even a bicycle, giving the track a sense of motion. Meanwhile, the bass is just absolutely killer, somehow both intricate and simple-sounding, notes that sound almost the same but aren’t quite. The lyrics are nursery-esque, with rhyming pairs and idioms aplenty. “Little by little by hook or by crook/I’m such a tease and you’re such a flirt” is a really fun couple of lines, even if they really don’t have the same meaning outside of context as they do inside.

Every time I think I’ve heard everything there is to hear in this song, there’s more to surprise me. The different guitar lines, the background noises, rising instrumental and sinking vocals. Underrated, methinks.

Track 4 is the shortest song of the shortest album, Feral. Not so much lyrics in this, as snippets of heavily edited vocalisations- they might say something, but you’re sure as hell not going to figure that out listening to it. The song is heavily percussion-driven, to the point where there are long spans of it where the looping drums are the only instrumentation actually present. More electronic white noise comes in later, getting louder and harsher, as the vocal snippets increase in frequency and variability, but there’s always those drums, keeping on keeping on.

Feral is kind of in an odd spot, frankly, because it is one of hose tracks that’s fine, it’s good¸ but I genuinely cannot imagine being in the mood to listen to it. It’s tightly wound, almost stressful, but what little is added on doesn’t especially cater to that mood. I think there’s some comparison to be made to The Gloaming, of all things, though I think I like that track better than this one.

The one single from the album is Lotus Flower, and if you haven’t watched that music video…fucking, do it? Thom is just iconic in this one, channeling memetic levels of weirdo-dance. Lotus Flower makes the best choice for single on this record, being both the most past-Radiohead-y, and the most traditional song-y track on the record, somehow. Thom’s falsetto is at its peak here, utterly gorgeous in performance and presentation, with loops on some of the held notes that in some cases only just reveal themselves as artificial.

This is not to discredit the instrumental, with the best Radiohead use of handclaps since 15 Step (to my knowledge, the previous iteration of this), an electronic instrumental that would probably make a much sadder song were it not for the vocals and the groovy bassline. Seriously, the bass makes this piece genuinely danceable, it’s incredible.

…man, look at him go.

Every time I hear Codex I think it’s the last song on the album, and I always have to remind myself, no, it’s not that short, come on. This slow, sad, piano ballad (?) echoes previous album closers while still feeling incredibly TKOL, its piano being reminiscent of Videotape, brass coming in like Life in a Glasshouse, and utterly down vocals akin to any number of Radiohead’s finest. Some of the lyrics are actually very reminiscent of Pyramid Song, imagery of, well, jumping into bodies of water, but as that track’s river was full of tragedy and memory, Codex’s clear lake is, apparently, clear and innocent.

I was thinking about that album-closer comment before I heard the section of the track that comes in at 3:35, with wavering strings that feel incredibly like Kid A, like Motion Picture Soundtrack and How to Disappear Completely.

I should probably stop comparing Codex to other Radiohead songs, though. It does stand on its own without those, a beautiful, melancholic song. It is incredibly chill, muted even, the kind of song to float in the water to, staring up at the stars. It’s down, but it’s not in pain, if that makes sense? Like, the vibe I get from it is of acceptance, and of moving past what’s holding one down- something you repeat in your head while you’re deep in the shit.

Wait that’s just How to Disappear Completely again, fuck.

Moving on, Give up the Ghost opens with, of all things, birdsongs. It’s actually an acoustic guitar ballad to pair with Codex’s piano ballad, multiple iterations of the instrument layered over each other in a natural but artificial soundscape. The vocals do the same, with the lead harmonising with a backing refrain of “don’t haunt me” to give this relatively gentle track a sense of desperation, almost (I’ve seen it written as “don’t hurt me” in some places but…come on, listen to it, also it is Give up the Ghost after all).

Give up the Ghost is another very chill track that you can just lean into and relax by. Even as it gets more complex and layered as it goes, with another background vocal layer edited in the background steadily getting fuzzed and less comprehendible, the song doesn’t stop being what it is. That acoustic line doesn’t stop vibing, the tempo doesn’t pick up, it is more than content to stay right where it is. And it’s a comfortable stop.

The album’s final track is Separator, and it is frankly one that I always forget. Despite being the actual track closer (sorry again, Codex), it doesn’t have that impact that tracks like Street Spirit (Fade Out) or A Wolf at the Door do. Ironically, this might make it the most fitting closer for The King of Limbs, considering the largely relaxed, ambient nature of the album.

There isn’t honestly that much to divulge about Separator that you wouldn’t have guessed from the album that precedes it. It’s got looping tracks, layered vocals, and this one really satisfying electronic note that hits every couple seconds that I quite like. About halfway through, a patently lovely guitar line comes in, one of the few I can definitively think of that are relatively downtempo but that I could still describe as “bright”. With all the stuff going on at once, the song does end up a bit of a mess at times, as these different elements that have been present in different pieces of the song blend together for a bit of an echoey jumble, but it does resolve itself before long. After that, the song and album’s final minute or so is surprisingly simple, with the track effectively picking the handful of lines it wants to hang on to, one of the vocal tracks and one of the ambient effects and one of the percussion lines, and lets them run their course, the album ending on an echo of the track that once was.

That completes The King of Limbs, an album named after a tree in England, by the way. It always bugs me when I see this one near the bottom of people’s tier lists, because it really just doesn’t miss. It’s the product of a band that’s been working and experimenting for two decades, and it really shows the fruits of that labour. It’s quite the band that can put out something like Bloom immediately after an album with tracks like Bodysnatchers and Jigsaw Falling Into Place, and have both work.

The King of Limbs was the last album that came out before I got into Radiohead, so naturally, I basically didn’t listen to it for several years. I kinda went piece by piece into their discography, and I hadn’t had it as heavily recommended to me as others. But it easily stands just as tall as those other albums, even if it’s technically a little shorter.

For the record, I haven’t decided if I’m going to cover TKOL RMX 1234567 yet. It is listed next to all the rest of them on any collection of their albums, and it’s a perfectly respectable piece of Radiohead canon, and I did want to cover all the non-main-album stuff at some point. On the other hand, it is just a remix album, I’ve kinda been going through the main stuff chronologically, and also I’ve never listened to it.

So basically, we’ll see! And you’ll see, next week, whether we go straight to A Moon Shaped Pool or deviate a bit for some capitalised numerical action.

[brasskier]

Inspired by a prompt from @gods-no-longer-tread-here​, wherein Jaskier is tripping balls, Geralt is a recovering addict, and they’re both idiots. 

Read it on my ao3 or below the cut:

Jaskier was tripping fucking balls. That was the point, he realized ironically somewhere in the murky crevices of his mind. The walls shuddered in careful tempo with his every stuttering breath, one of his friends mumbled about something languidly to his side, and if he stared long enough he was confident he might be able to count enough pixels to gauge the exact resolution with which he viewed the world. Colors melted into each other, into the music - Drake, maybe? He hadn't picked it - that floated somewhere in his periphery, into Jaskier himself. He was incredibly thirsty, so, so thirsty, and all he could remember were some cans of PBR and La Croix stocked haphazardly in the fridge that he wasn't sure he'd be able to tell apart anymore. He stumbled gracelessly, feet shuffling and knocking into each other.

"Jask?" His friend called to him - which one, he wasn't sure - and he froze, or at least tried to, pitching forward and catching on the doorframe. His friend faced him, and it was Essi. Or, it should've been Essi. Half of her face was gone, replaced by a black void accentuated only by an intangible flash of yellow where her eye should've been; the other half was skinned and charred, all blackened tendons and oozing blood. Jaskier stumbled back, tripped over the doorframe, sprawled his arms out in a clumsy, futile attempt to catch himself. 

"What the fuck," he panted, watching in horror as the black hole devoured the rest of her face until she was gone altogether. His breath heaved and caught in his throat while the walls continued to rattle with him. Time, already limping along sluggishly, seemed to screech to a halt completely. He ran a hand through his hair - it felt thick and wet like the black trash bags of spaghetti "intestines" they used to prepare in boyscouts for their annual haunted house. His heart bucked uncooperatively in his chest, and for a moment he thought he might just faint. Jaskier was tripping fucking balls. And this was not a good trip.

No matter, no matter. Just get something to drink. If it's the seltzer it'll hydrate you; if it's the beer maybe it'll ease the comedown. He dragged his legs until they're beneath him and, brain buzzing about airily in his skull, gave up on walking and resolved to crawl his way to the fridge. Except, he just couldn't fucking reach. He jutted a hand out, fingers outstretched and grasping, but it's just past his fingertips. And every time he thought he'd drawn closer it was still just shy of his reach. He wanted to cry, but while the tears burned away at the corners of his eyes they refused to escape.

He needed to get out of that dingy campus apartment - fuck, was it his? Essi's? Was Valdo with them? - or at least have someone talk some damn sense into him. He staggered back to the living room, called out the names of friends that might be with him blindly, too afraid of what he might see if he dared look. He could see in 1080p, the pixels, he'd counted them, though he thought he'd read otherwise, but who was he to argue with his own math. 

"Look at it," a voice commanded somewhere, and he could just scarcely determine it was real and tangible and not a hallucination. "Don't you see it?" He tried to mouth the word no, but no sound came out. What was he even supposed to be looking at?

"Wanna watch something?" Another voice sneered. 

"Mmm, that Netflix show? That fantasy one, witches or something?" Jaskier didn't want to watch TV, he wanted to breathe again. He slid back, head resting on what he aimlessly realized was the couch. He could call an ambulance, but his fingers felt too rubbery and boneless to pull his phone out of his pocket, let alone actually command it. Besides, he couldn't remember the number. It's fine. He just needs to close his eyes and focus on his breath and he'll be just fine.

Jaskier was not just fine. Jaskier was tripping fucking balls. He needed to get the fuck out of that apartment, out of his skin, out of his head. He's suffocating, drowning - wait, no. Shit. He's burning. His skin is bubbling and his lungs choke on thick black smoke and he's going to fucking die. He tears off his thrifted plaid flannel, claws at his sweaty gray tee but can't manage to get it over his head. Stripping wouldn't help him. He's on fire. He needed to leave. He needed to go to the hospital.

The hospital. It's a fucking college town. Oxenfurt's sprawling university hospital is looming and unmistakable. He'd been there before - the bike accident where he broke his arm, the bout of pneumonia where the doctor successfully convinced him to quit smoking (only lasted a few months, alas), the alcohol poisoning he dared not speak of. He could find it. Just had to escape. Left foot, right foot, that's it. He fumbles with the door handle, stumbles through and onto the sidewalk. It was dark out, but the street lamps were the sun, sulfurous yellow glimmering against fresh snow. The apartment behind him was ablaze, melting even; he could still feel it, and this renewed urgency propelled him forward. 

He ran, or at least his calves felt like he was running, but time marched so slowly he couldn't discern one pace or another. The sky was so dark, black even, gaping and never-ending, but the lights of apartments and buildings and street lamps were blinding. There was a 7-Eleven, and then he needed to make a left. Or maybe a right? He needed to turn, and then keep pushing, and then he'd be at the hospital and he'd be okay. He could get his burns treated and hope the scars didn't render his hands stiff and immobile - he was a jazz trombone major, after all, and he needed those hands.

The 7-Eleven was in view. It had been in view for hours. He wasn't sure if he was close or far or on another plane of existence from it altogether. But it was there. Which meant he had to turn. Right was a dead-end. It had to be left. He just had to cross the street. He looked left, and then right, and vomited into the snow from the dizziness of it all for a moment before trying again. Right. Coast is clear. Just move.

There's a flash of light and a squeal of rubber on pavement, and Jaskier watched his pitiful life flash before his eyes. When he opened them, he wasn't in the street but on his side in the snow, and it felt beautiful and cold and practically holy against his skin. Had he been hit? Had he never even stepped off the curb? How long had he been there?

"Hey!" A voice cried, and he fought against his twitching muscles to roll over and face it. "You alright?" It was a man, tall and broad and built like a mountain, with silver hair pulled into a messy bun and amber eyes and a worried scowl.

"Fire," Jaskier managed to mumble, curling tighter into himself. "Am I dead?" Recognition seemed to shine in the stranger's eyes.

"What did you take?" He drew closer, crouched next to him, and Jaskier recoiled frantically. He held his hands out, fingers tightly curled and nails digging into his palm, batted at the man blindly.

"Mmm, no!" He gasped, shoulders heaving with the effort. "Fuck off."

"Look, man," the stranger dropped his voice, low and hushed and gravely. "I know you're tweaking. I've been there. Just tell me what you took so I can fucking help you." He reached a hand out, calloused and worn and firm, and rested it on Jaskier's shoulder. Jaskier jerked - the burns, he couldn't touch them, they'd get infected, it would hurt, he can't - fuck, wait. There are no burns. The stranger kept his grip on his shoulder, and he could just faintly make out the slightest hint of track marks peeking out from the cuff of the man's sleeve.

"Acid," he muttered finally, following it with a long, shaky exhale. There are no burns. His mind reeled over the memory of the tab, bright green and printed with the smiling face of Bernie Sanders before melting away on his tongue.

"What are you doing out here?" The gruff voice commandeered his attention. 

"Hospital. Apartment was on fire." The snow ebbed and flowed beneath him, altogether more like a boat on the ocean than a snowbank in the middle of Oxenfurt University.

"Right. I'll take you there." The man wasted no time waiting for a response from Jaskier, simply snaked his arms around him and yanked him up. Jaskier struggled against his grip as he carried him to his awaiting car, overcome by the scent of cedarwood from the man's deodorant. "Chill out." The movement stopped finally, and Jaskier felt altogether too hot and freezing cold all at once.

"Feel sick," he managed to grit out past a clenched jaw. The man managed to ease him back to the ground in time for him to heave unproductively for a few more moments. 

"Name's Geralt, by the way," the voice rumbled, vibrating in Jaskier's chest as he was once again hoisted up and then deposited into the back seat of an unfamiliar car.

"Jaskier." Focusing on what the man - Geralt - was saying was too much effort. He let his head loll to the side, idly watching the lights streak past his window in a burst of fluorescent color before disappearing into the dark.

Geralt knew a tweaker when he saw one. While he'd never touched the shit in his nearly two years of addiction, he knew plenty of meth-heads adjacently. So when he spotted a young man trembling on the side of the road, brown hair and Oxenfurt t-shirt clinging to his skin with sweat even in the cold late-November night, he could guess what was going on. He didn't want to stop, he really didn't. He was four months clean, just coming off a late night security gig, and those people were bad news. He knows; he was one of them. But the kid - and he really did look like just a kid, probably not even 21 yet - didn't look ravenous and mad. He looked scared and sick and alone. So Geralt stopped.

The kid's pupils were blown to hell and back, confirming his suspicions when he got close enough to really get a good look. His cheeks were flushed a stark pink against pale skin and red-rimmed and dark-circled eyes. The kid was combative, but not as much as he would've expected, and he could feel him relax when his eyes ghosted over the track marks on his forearm. If the kid wanted to view them as kindred spirits, as cut from the same cloth, so be it if it calmed him down.

Acid. Huh. So he was a little off base. Leave it to the ex-junkie to leap to conclusions. But acid, meth, molly, it didn't matter. Either way, the kid was shaking like a leaf and strung out of his mind and Geralt reverted back autopilot from years of crashing on bathroom floors and dirty backyards. 

Jaskier hadn't realized he'd fallen asleep until he woke to find himself being jostled, carried, and blinded by bright, buzzing fluorescent lights. He struggled for a moment until the arms carrying him tightened their grip and a disembodied voice hummed his name, and memory came flooding back. The acid, the trip, the fire, the stranger. Geralt.

"Geralt?" He mumbled sleepily into the man's chest. "Where?" He gave up trying to manage the full sentence, chose instead to hope he was understood nonetheless.

"ER. You're safe." Jaskier did not feel particularly safe, but he was too exhausted to do much about that, so he just let himself remain limp and pliant in Geralt's arms. Geralt and other out-of-sight strangers talked around him, but he couldn't follow the conversation, couldn't track them as he was moved about. Before long he was deposited into a bed, heard the scrape of metal and rustle of fabric as the curtain was tugged closed, and finally blinked his eyes open at the introduction of a doctor hovering over him.

"I'm Dr Chireadan." A mouthful of a name Jaskier realized he was far too tongue-tied to pronounce. "Can you tell me your name?"

"Jaskier." He scrubbed a hand across his eyes, choosing to ignore the mottled bruises and scrapes where his fingernails had dug into his palms. "Jaskier Pankratz." 

"Alright, and can you tell me what's going on?" Could he? Just the thought of recounting the events that led him to that moment sent panic drumming in his chest.

"Did some acid with friends," he explained shakily. "Thought the… thought the apartment was on fire, thought I was burning." The doctor nodded and hummed in acknowledgement. Geralt longued in a chair pushed against the wall, phone in his hand but not looking at it.

"How are you feeling now?"

"Now? Like I got hit by a campus bus," he quipped, enjoying the raised eyebrow it elicited from his new companion. 

"Well, that's not terribly surprising. Your temperature is a little elevated, but your heart rate is coming down nicely, so we're just fighting dehydration at this point." Jaskier bobbed his head as if he was really particularly processing his statement. "A nurse is going to swing by, take some blood so we can make sure nothing else was mixed in there, and then get you on some IV saline. That'll have you feeling much better." 

"Sounds good." Jaskier was sleepy, unsure of what time it was at this point, and still distinctly disoriented. The doctor moved back towards the curtain, swung it open but stopped with one foot still in the room.

"One of our social workers will be down to talk to you," he added. "Psych evaluation. It's mandatory." Then he turned his gaze to Geralt, gave him a nod of acknowledgement, and with that he was gone. Jaskier wasted no time before flopping to his side, curling up, and falling asleep.

He was roused again by a nurse gently tugging his arm free from where he had it wrapped tight around his middle. She was chatting idly with Geralt, and there seemed to be some level of familiarity between the two.

"There you are, honey," the nurse remarked, fiddling with syringes and vials and whatever else was laid out on the little steel tray. "Deep breath for me?" He obliged. "Alright, and a quick pinch." The needle disappeared into the soft skin on the inside of the crook of his arm, and he watched the blood flow out of his body in a trance. "How are you feeling? Stomach bothering you?" She nodded at the hand still clutching at his abdomen.

"A little," he admitted, diverting his gaze, counting ceiling tiles. "Just tired." 

"All done," she announced as she withdrew the last vial, hooking up the tubes that dangled from the floppy bag of clear liquid he could reasonably reckon was the saline. He returned to the fetal position, tucked his chin to his sternum. "Here. In case you need to be sick." He cracked an eye open, took note of cardboard basin now resting on the bed beside him, and offered little by way of acknowledgement.

"Thanks." Someone tugged the blanket up to cover him, and he didn't terribly care whether it was Geralt or the nurse. The pair, seemingly under the impression that Jaskier was asleep, resumed their conversation. 

"What are you doing, Geralt? You're supposed to be staying out of trouble."

"Trouble found me." Jaskier suddenly felt impressively guilty. What a fuck-up he was, dragging a total stranger into his stupid mistakes. "I couldn't just leave him there. You understand."

"You have to be careful," the nurse scolded him. Jaskier felt like a lame dog, the kind that most drive past, until eventually someone bothered to sweep him up, drop him at the vet's, and then go on with their life. Should've just put me down, the darker recess of his mind supplied, and he pushed away the thought as quickly as it had cropped up. "You can't jeopardize your recovery."

"I'm not," Geralt argued back. She tutted, and Jaskier could hear the sweep of the curtain again. He drifted back to sleep.

The hospital was on fire. He could taste the smoke and tears and copper tang of fear. He bolted upright in his bed, but - for fuck's sake - he was restrained. They thought he was crazy, bound his wrists and ankles in leather shackles. He jerked and pulled, thrashed about in the bed, kicked and screamed. Anything. He had to escape. He couldn't do this again. He had to get free. He had to--

"Jaskier!" That voice. He fought to find it, locked eyes with Geralt, and clawed his way back into reality. The hospital was not on fire. He was not restrained. Angry red scratch marks streaked up his wrists. "Breathe with me." Jaskier exhaled in a rush of stale air, a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding, and rooted around blindly until he found Geralt's hands and clasped on. "Good. In four, out four." In four, out four. He could do that, it was no more than the breathing exercises he used to practice every day back when he marched drum corps. 

"Sorry," he choked once his breath had finally settled. He did not let go of Geralt's hands. "Nightmare."

"I know. Just take it easy." Finally, Geralt managed to worm his hands free of Jaskier's white-knuckle grasp, settled back into his dutiful bedside vigil while Jaskier dropped back to sleep.

The hours (were they hours? Time was still weird) passed in a dizzying barrage of dreams and nightmares punctuated by occasional bursts of lucidity. He overheard the nurses, the doctors - it sounded like Geralt was popular amongst the hospital staff. There was a phone call, an even deeper voice presumably belonging to Geralt's father on the other line, reminding him that he was supposed to stop messing with Jaskier's "kind".

The psychiatric evaluation was the worst of it, however brief if might've been. For whatever godforsaken reason he demanded Geralt stay, then limped through an explanation of his exhausted psyche in front of the virtual stranger. The very nice, very attractive stranger. (Shut the fuck up, Jask. Keep it together.) Yes, he had borderline. Yes, here's the self-inflicted cigarette burns welted into the flesh of his upper arm. Yes, he drank, but he was 22 (Geralt made a surprised noise at this revelation) and well within his right to. Yes, he dabbled with drugs, but why not when you're too numb most of the time to fret about the consequences? 

Eventually, finally, he was discharged. He still felt foggy and altogether not great, and he'd have to remember to email his professors and let them know he was taking a sick day before he went back to bed. It was morning light when Geralt helped him back to his car, a beat-up old Corolla probably as old as Jaskier himself. When they finally made it to Jaskier's apartment, Geralt fished around for a pen and scribbled his number onto the little Narcotics Anonymous meeting card the social worker had slipped him. Jaskier uttered his thanks, smiled fondly, and disappeared.

It was two weeks later when he found himself in a meeting, awkward and lingering in the back of the room, clad in his Conservatory of Music hoodie and black skinnies, cast in orange by the low light. Eventually someone managed to talk him into speaking, and though he young and naive and stupid he agreed. His mom always said he had a way with words, after all.

"I'm not addicted to acid," he began tentatively. "Or any other one drug, for that matter. I'm addicted to escaping. Even a bad trip is better than facing reality." He raked an unsteady hand back through his hair. "It doesn't matter the drug, I'll take it. Since I started smoking at fourteen, self-medicating a disorder I wouldn't even be diagnosed with until eighteen." He scanned the crowd of attendees, understood wordlessly he was in the company of addicts who probably had it far worse than he could ever know, who probably found his struggles trivial and petty. And yet, there was nothing but quiet understanding and empathy on their faces. "But now I can't get through a weekend sober. Can't write for my composition classes without getting high first." His gaze settled on Geralt, tucked in the corner, eyebrows knitted in sympathy. "So I'm not really too sure how I'm supposed to get clean when the problem isn't some drug, but my personality, who I am." He sucked in a deep breath, flashed the slightest smile at Geralt. "But I have to do something." 

He left as soon as he'd finished speaking, still reeling from the vulnerability of it, denim trucker tugged tight against the winter chill. A hand caught his wrist, and god, could he recognize those rough fingers anywhere.

"Jaskier." It was Geralt, just a step or two behind him. "Do you want to get coffee?" Jaskier's shoulders relaxed; at least he hadn't offered to get drinks.

"Yeah. I'd like that." He busied himself with fixing his jacket and hair, falling into step beside Geralt. He couldn't help but smile. So much for staying out of trouble.

[jakeperalta]

omg please give a track by track breakdown when you can form coherent thoughts hehe

ok so these are my second listen thoughts now i’m beginning to be able to form sentences again! first things first i love all the songs so here we go

willow: so cute gosh i love so many of the individual lines and love how it can be interpreted in lots of ways (also loved the video!) - definitely feels like a grower, same as how with cardigan i was initially like “wow great song!” and now i’m like that song owns my entire soul

champagne problems: put this at the bottom of my predicted rankings based on the title because i don’t drink and am uninterested in songs about getting drunk but as soon as it started playing i was like well that was wrong i love it. absolutely love the concept (already discussed it but it gave me all my rory/logan shipper rights) and it’s just beautiful but also “she would’ve made such a lovely bride, what a shame she’s fucked in the head” SCREAM

gold rush: lyrically/thematically reminds me a lot of “everybody wants you” by red hearse which is interesting because that’s one of jack’s projects and that always reminded me of taylor’s lyrical style. also “the coastal town we wandered round had never seen a love as pure as it” love that line sooo much!!!

tis the damn season: mmm love this concept! “there’s an ache in you put there by the ache in me” is poetry!! she really said cheesy hallmark christmas movie about a city girl coming home and reigniting an old flame over the holidays but make it a masterpiece

tolerate it: when i first heard the opening lines i thought this might be about andrea in that idea of carefully watching someone and them being older and wiser and yourself feeling like a child... but obviously it’s not! gives me big dear john vibes. the concept of having so much love to pour into someone and them just tolerating it is absolutely heartbreaking

no body no crime: ok!!! she really popped off with this one!!! love the drama of the intro with the sirens and the “he did it” whisper. love the storytelling and the haim feature. gives me big country vibes actually, specifically reminds me of something the chicks might write.

happiness: “there’ll be happiness after you, but there was happiness because of you. both of these can be true.” is such a beautiful concept i really love that line. also this feels like one of her most mature songs ever. the way she acknowledges we made it each other happy but we also hurt each other but one day we will be happy again and will be able to be happy for each other. also the gatsby reference of the beautiful fool and the green light?? ok literary queen

dorothea: this is the first and only one so far that i connected with another song because i was straight away like oh she’s totally the one coming home in tis the damn season! very sweet, also i have a little sister called dorothea who’s only three but one day i will have to play it for her so i’m glad dorothea gets quite a nice story

coney island: so beautiful and interesting!! feel like i need to live with this one for a while to truly appreciate all its intricacies but taylor and matt’s voices are lovely together

ivy: honestly after two listens i can only vaguely remember it sounding soft and nice but i didn’t pick up on any of the lyrics, i think i need more time to appreciate it on its own. interesting reading the lyrics that it has illicit affairs type vibes

cowboy like me: was expecting this to be a bit more overtly yeehaw but still great. feels like an alternative/country version of getaway car 🤠

long story short: fun change of tempo! love this new take on the Bad Time and “no more keeping score, now i just keep you warm, and my waves meet your shore ever and and evermore” is just lovely!!

marjorie: just beautiful and moving and sweet. that is all.

closure: the production on this is kinda stressful to listen to skdfnsdknf idk don’t really have other thoughts on this one? feels a bit less lyrically rich than the others

evermore: beautiful!!!! sadder than i expected but love the hopeful note it ends on. also this is how i expected exile to sound when we found out bon iver would feature and it’s cool to hear the duet with justin’s voice being higher than taylors! also love that i was correct in guessing taylor and joe wrote it together