#outdoor rock speaker

[iloverobots11]

Hot Tub Austin Example of a large farmhouse backyard concrete and rectangular infinity hot tub design

[strathshepard]

Klipsch outdoor speaker that looks like a rock. Works great in a small apartment too, such as mine.

[dijitwitch]

Deck Vancouver Deck - large modern rooftop deck idea

[unimpulsivethemes]

Pool in New Orleans Hot tub - large tropical backyard concrete and custom-shaped natural hot tub idea

[tiger-in-the-flightdeck]

I don't know if I have many teenagers following me, but if I do, I want to tell you a story.

Way back when I was in high school, more than half my age ago at this point, I did a politics class mostly because my other two classes were with the same teacher and if I took that one it meant I didn't have to leave the portable in the winter. Which gives you an idea of how seriously I took my education.

For extra credit, our teacher wanted us to attend a local city council candidate's meeting. And he wanted us to treat it like an old 1930s election campaign trail situation. Posters, candidate ribbons, noise makers, the works. Now, he was also bribing us with pizza for after and for a fair number of us that meant a free meal instead of having peanut butter on a spoon for dinner.

So four classes worth of twelfth graders rocked up at this thing armed with campaign slogans we'd made up for our chosen candidates, posters, one kid had a bunch of glow sticks. And we freaking roared whenever someone would step up to the podium to start their pitch.

And most of the politicians ate it up. These meetings usually got fifteen little old ladies looking for something to do on a Tuesday night. We outnumbered them. We were taking up the whole back half of the room. Most of us, that would be our first year eligible to vote, and I guess seeing us there lit a fire under them. It went from 'This year's holiday light display should be blue and white themed, all in favour?' to 'This town is pretty nice, but it could be better. Let's figure out how!' Instead of the meeting ending after the last speaker and everyone grabbing some sugar cookies and coffee, it turned into a question and answer period. They wanted to know what we wanted from them.

We discussed how our little town turning more and more into a bedroom community or commuter town meant that job opportunities were leaving. How that lack of prospects for us was contributing to the rate of drug use and suicide. The epidemic of teen pregnancies was costing so many young women their education because they were encouraged to drop out of school. And how we needed things to do that weren't just sitting in the mall food court.

Over the next few years, things started to happen. The community centres started doing career training programs. Everything from engine repair to nail technician. The adult learning centre had a class that was all young mothers getting their high school diplomas. They built a skate park. There were outdoor concerts and music events. The hockey rink and outdoor performance stage got fixed up. A pretty big company came along and brought tons of jobs with it and suddenly we had opportunities that weren't either a burger joint or shovelling icing in the cookie factory.

This is all a long, slightly rambling way to say that while voting is absolutely important, if you really want your voice heard, show up to meetings. Make some noise. Tell your elected officials what you need to thrive in your community. Especially if you're in a small town.

[toxicanonymity]

[your dirty little mouth]

Joel Miller x f reader w/ background

I8+ Dirty talk. No name or physical description of reader. Reader is not a native Spanish speaker

You evacuated with Joel, and after five years, you're living together in the village in Wyoming. Imagine he's taught you a good bit of Spanish. You knew some from school, but he used to speak Spanish a lot for work in Texas. Your downtime on the road was a good opportunity for immersion. It's helped to have a second language in certain situations. It was especially helpful in the times you couldn't trust anyone and needed to move covertly.

These days, your practical application is usually to say filthy things to him in public and watch him flush, squirm, and harden. Your Spanish isn't perfect, but your special effort is cute to him and he typically knows what you're trying to say. Sometimes he just wishes you were a little more discreet.

tu vocecita sucia [your dirty little mouth]

At breakfast in the dining hall.

Joel: What do you want to drink, milk or juice?

You: Quiero lecherte (sic). [I want to milk you]

Joel coughs and turns red.

You: Quiero tu leche salada en mi boca. [I want your salty cum in my mouth]

Joel abruptly sits down with his coffee and sternly mouths "enough."

You shrug and smile. A smirk creeps across one corner of his mouth. He looks down then nods toward the drink bar.

Joel: Help yourself.

******************

At an outdoor event. (Movie night is based on this)

Joel: Do you want to go to the movie?

You: Sí. . . [Yes. . .]

Joel shifts uncomfortably on his feet as a Pavlovian response.

You: Antes, debes cojerme como no puedes vivir sin mi cuerpo. [First, you should fuck me like you can't live without my body.]

Joel positions you in front of him with his hands loosely on your hips.

Joel (softly into your hair): ¿Otra vez? [What was that?]

You: Escuchaste bien la primera vez. Hazlo. Vámanos. [You heard right the first time. Do it. Let's go.]

Joel (whispering in your ear): Sí, entendí. Solamente quería escucharlo otra vez. [Yeah, I got it, just wanted to hear it again]

Joel subtly rocks into you so you feel his hardness.

You: ¿Vas a ponerme tan mojado y entonces no usarlo?[Are you going to get me this wet then not use it?]

*****************

Around the campfire on a hunting trip

You bend down in front of Joel to add a log to the fire then whisper in his ear on your way back to your seat.

You: Mi culo es solamente para ti. [My ass is just for you.]

Joel: Yeah I think we have enough wood, amor.

You: Necesito- [I need-]

Joel: -mientras duermen [-while they sleep.]

******************

Feel free to submit Joel asks! And if you want to be tagged in stuff, lmk.

Master list

[comatosebunny09]

deep-fried | u. tengen

summary: he’s spoken to you in passing. friendly greetings and excuse me’s when he bumped into you at the grocery store. he can’t deny entertaining the thought of how soft your hips must feel. how cute you must sound, tongue curling around his name. genre: modern au, romance cw: mentions of alcohol, language, black female reader, suggestive themes, stream of consciousness, incomplete

Darkness swaddles him as the wind howls beyond the confines of his truck.

It’s quiet inside, save for the lazy purr of his Ram and the melancholy music spilling from his speaker. His grip on the steering wheel is lax as he creeps through his drowsy neighborhood, headlights shining off windows shut tight. 

The clock on his display reads 10:37. Another night spent rotting away in his office. He rolls out the kinks in his neck. Exhaustion leaks down his shoulders, curling around his bones and puddling at his feet.

The day wasn’t kind to him. He spent it in and out of meetings. Deals fell through. Clients were no-shows. He had to lay off a few of his strongest employees at the urging of his superiors to compensate for the company's financial imbalance.

All he wants now is a stiff one and the chilly clutch of his bed. Just wants to throw this week in the backseat along with his briefcase. Maybe he’ll scrounge up some three-day-old stir fry from his fridge before he hits the sheets.

But then it’s there, burning in his peripheral when he rounds the corner: orange and blue flames dancing in the wintry gale. Golden swatches of light bounce off your features, highlighting the smile rounding your lips. 

“What the...fuck?” Tengen rasps. He rolls the window down halfway and turns his music to a dull murmur. Slows to a stop, brakes squealing. He props his arm on the steering wheel. Your chuckle follows. Warm milk and honey to his ears. He finds your smile infectious, his own canting his lips.

“Howdy, neighbor!” Your voice is husky. Flirtatious even. You sit on your cozy outdoor sectional with a bottle gleaming in your fingers, raised to him in greeting. The breeze carries the oaky scent from your fire pit, reminding him of log cabins and days spent amid the snow.

“What’s this all about?” he asks, chin nestled in his palm. Surprised by how easy it is to skip formalities with you like he’s talking to an old friend. He’s not enamored. There’s no way. 

He’s spoken to you in passing. Friendly greetings and excuse me’s when he bumped into you at the grocery store. Simple conversations after running into each other at the gym. He can’t deny entertaining the thought of how soft your body must feel, though. How cute you must sound, tongue curling around his name in that Southern twang.

You stand, thighs thick even beneath the slouched fleece of your sweats. Throw your arms up, your sweater flashing a slither of smooth, dusky skin. His mouth waters. It takes all of him not to bite his lip.

“Shoooot! I made it through another week!” Your grin is lopsided as you rock to the mellow tunes flowing from your speaker. He falls deeper into your web, chuckling. He’s envious of your carefree nature. Wishes he could bottle it up for use on a rainy day. “Care to join me?”

The offer is tempting. Sure, Tengen planned to drink himself into a stupor. But your body language beckons him, and your finger curls in a come hither gesture while you dance like a tipsy fool. 

Fuck it. He could use a little respite.

His reply comes as easy as breathing in and out. “Gimme a sec to get out of this monkey suit, and I’ll see how I feel afterward.”

You giggle. Do an accomplished jig around the fire. Tengen can’t help but laugh as he slides off. You’re adorable in your own right. 

Excitement wriggles into his fingers as he slides into his driveway. Soon after, he slips into his house, toeing his loafers off by the door. Shimmies out of his coat, making a beeline for the shower, blood pulsing in his ears.

He carries the aroma of rosewood and smoke with him when he sidles up to your patio 30 minutes later. 

Tries to play it cool, hands shoved in his pockets, though his chest is afire. Pretty thing like you hankering for his company. He should be so lucky.

“Drink?” you offer, your tone heavy with inebriation.

Corona. He’s not the biggest fan. Prefers the sting of something sour, but he accepts it on his way down onto the cushion beside you, anyway. Tengen sits back in an easy slouch, draping his arm across the headrest. His rings clack against the glass as he brings the bottle to his lips, condensation dripping onto his turtleneck.

For a while, nothing but the sounds associated with nighttime fill the space between you. The fire pops and fizzes. Crickets chitter in the distance. Trees shiver in the breeze. A dog or two barks somewhere far off. Tengen falls prey to the inner workings of his mind before rustling fabric brings him back to the present.

“What's wrong, suga?”

His gaze drifts to you, angled towards him. Your vibe is maternal despite the distilled wheat wafting off your breath. Must be that Southern hospitality everyone talks about. He sighs with a drop of his shoulders, taking another swig. “Just another day at the office.”

“Wanna talk about it?” You lean closer. Fill his nose with the fragrance of cracked vanilla beans, heat rolling off you in waves. He finds himself disarmed around you. Nerves flare when your tiny fingers brand his quad, scorching him to the bone.

“Not really,” Tengen husks, lost in the idle stir of your eyes. He feels like he could tell you everything. But for now, he’s content with soaking up your presence. Hasn’t had a lady friend for some time now, having fully embraced bachelorhood.

“That’s alright.” Give his thigh a squeeze, irises twinkling with something indiscernible. The shadows cast by the fire shroud your intentions. “Just know that whatever storm you’re weatherin’ is temporary. ‘sides, it’s the weekend! It’s time to turn up!”

He chortles at how quickly the mood shifts. At your goofy little dance, taking another sip of his beer. His hand engulfs yours atop his thigh, entranced by the smoothness of it. He could get used to this. Get used to you.

The air feels lighter now. It’s easy to slide into meaningful conversation, throwing back a few more beers as the night eases into the wee hours of the morning.

At some point, he finds himself nestled in the plushness of your sofa inside.

The lights are turned off, the only illumination coming from the silvery moon peeking through your blinds. Sultry jazz tinges the air, chorusing with soft giggles and husky praise. A sheen of desire hangs overhead, intermingled with the smell of firewood clinging to your clothes.   

Your thighs are tender in his hands. Doughy like he knew they would be, framing his hips. Your fingers make an unhurried excursion to the hair at his nape as your lips brand his carotid. His responding chuckle is breathless, disbelieving. Vibrates your chest, your breasts warm against the hard press of his torso.

He's grinning like a fool, lids heavy. Can't help mulling over what brought you to this point as his hands engulf the dips of your hips. Sucks his lip between his teeth, his voice a low gravel as you bear down on the apex of his thighs.

[bruh-anator3000]

CAT-astrophic

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A/n: *pushes rock I live under over and peeks out of the black abyss* Hey, have you guys seen a Car Wash Miguel fic anywhere? I don't know what happened to it but it's no longer here. Might've escaped... anyways, watch this cat for me while I look? Thanks. And don't mind the hot homeless dude who talks to him, they're bonding. *returns into the depths of the void*

Summary: A hot dude won't stop talking to your cat, it's kind of freaking you out.

WC: 1.7k, edited by google docs...

Pairing: Miguel x GN!Reader

Warnings: crack fic, Spider-cat's real name is Sir Jeffords bc i said so, clueless reader, pro outdoor cat (i'm not actually, keep ur cats safe pls), future-ish?, accidentally snuck in some world building, in Lyla we trust 🙏, Miguel in tight clothing bc I also said so, and wait wtf are you doing with a dead rat miguel, AND WTF IS THIS WHITE STUFF DUDE?!

Also no Spanish bc I've done some research and those who do speak it have asked non-native speaker to avoid it, to prevent bad google translations and maintain respect!

Okay, enjoy~

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You were about to head in for the night when you were not tripped by your cat for his dinner. After a quick search around your apartment, you sighed upon realizing he was still outside. Shrugging on a coat, mismatched slippers, and grabbing a flashlight, you went out to look for him.

Plenty of people told you to keep your cat inside. That it was vital to their health to keep them safe indoors. There were plenty of articles stating the cons of letting a domesticated cat roam freely outside with no supervision. They were also written 80 years ago. The world has changed since then, drastically.

Sure, it would still be smart to keep Sir Jeffords inside. Less late night searches for him, no more worrying if that scratch on his right paw was from running too fast along pavement or something worse. But he came from the life of an alley cat, and no matter what you tried, he had to be out there for a few hours a day. Last time you tried to stop him, he went under your radar for three days. You had a panic attack, worried he didn't love you anymore, but he did eventually come back. Chipper and eager, and he made sure you left his cat door unlocked.

The streets were cleaner than 80 years ago. The people were kinder. The city more accommodating to everyone, even stray animals. Sir Jeffords was mirco chipped, and even if it didn't work for tracking half the time, the shelter folks could scan his neck and drop him back home.

There were no pounds or pest controls anymore, just volunteers who helped poor animals stay warm. And find whoever left them in the streets. It was a crime to leave them now, resulting in 6 months of detention if caught dumping your animal friend into the alleys.

Jeffords was a smart cat. He knew what he was doing. You trusted him. In the event of something bad happening, you made him swore he would come find you right away. Though he couldn't speak, his tail wrapping around your pinky seemed solid enough.

You called out his name, followed by a few 'pspspsps's to really seal the deal. Your flashlight shining in the darker corners of the streets he may be hiding in. Cats and their dark, unreachable corners, Sir Jeffords fell victim to any cozy spot he could barely tuck himself into.

It wasn't until a few blocks away, a little past the bank, when you heard a meow. Very similar to his, you quietly sped your pace, wanting to grab your kitty and go home. The closer you got, it seemed more like he was responding to someone else more than you.

"-and your service is always appreciated." You heard a deep voice whisper. Their voice a grumble echoing through the alley they hid in. "You're one of our best." Your brows pinching together, you turned the corner of the bank, flashlight illuminating your fluffy orange cat. Who was rubbing up against the shin of a random man.

He looked up at you, eyes darkened as he blocked your flashlight with his large hand. They almost seemed red as he stayed squatted, Sir Jeffords head butting his knee. His face pure sharp angles, with a scowl permanently in place. His black shirt a tight, compressing fit. Clinging to each muscle and vein in his arm, stopping halfway down his bicep. His calves just as impressive. His shorts doing nothing but making him look even hotter.

Wait, no. This was a random man, he wasn't hot.

You lowered the light and gave an awkward smile. Seemingly unimpressed, his hardened gaze turned back to your cat. "He's yours?" He asked, voice rumbling low in his chest. With a nod, he added, "He's... cute."

Okay, maybe he was a little hot.

"Right?" Your smile smoothed into something more natural. "He's the cutest cat to ever exist." You lowered yourself down onto your knees with a soft baby call. Sir Jeffords trotting into your lap happily, orange fur swaying with his steps.

Your hand ran through his silky fur. Tension easing from you as you held him close again. Though his three day disappearance had yet to happen again, you still worried. He was your precious baby, after all. The one you shared everything with, and he never once judged.

Your fingers caught on something sticky, stopping short of his lower back. Pulling your hand away, strings of white followed, sticking to your fingertips. The feeling moist and far too clingy for comfort. A disgusted shiver ran up your spine at the horrible sensory.

The man stood then, tossing a tissue at you as he did. His gaze stayed on your cat, never faltering. He pushed his dark hair away from his face, still scowling.

Glancing between your hand and the man that now towered over you, you almost gagged. This wasn't... his, right?

"It was the rat." Like he read your mind, the mysterious stranger held out his other hand. A dead rat laid in his palm.

"That... doesn't make me feel much better." You suppressed another full body shake, quickly wiping your hand off. This guy may be extremely attractive to look at but the longer you stayed there, the more uncomfortable you got. "How would a mouse... And what is this?" You felt yourself getting sick as you held the tissue out, the white stuff now sticking to the paper instead

"Webs. And, it's a rat." He stated with a straight face. More angry at your confusion than anything. "Chased him through some spider webs."

You let out a soft 'oh.' But that didn't explain why he was holding onto the dead rat.

And he let it stay that way. Instead of reading your mind like he had been this entire time, he just... walked off. With a dead animal in his grasp. Without a word.

Your confused gaze turned to your cat, knees beginning to ache from the pressure of concrete beneath. Sir Jeffords purred into your stomach loudly.

"You're not allowed to hang out with that guy, ever again."

...

"Christ!" Miguel tossed the rat at the wall, hearing him curse. The small animal glitched into a grown adult, body morphing sickly. "That..." The villain panted, rubbing at his neck. Bruises from how tightly he was held already forming there. "... was not what I was expecting."

Miguel squatted back down, balancing on his toes as the hologram of regular clothes shifted back into his suit. "You chose to become a rat, in a world whose Spider-Man is a cat." He slammed down a disk, red netting encasing the fool. "That was your own fault."

"It was the only way I could get into the bank!" The villain squeaked. Miguel tuned out almost immediately, eyes turning to his watch. Setting the portal to his universe, and making sure he wasn't needed elsewhere. He entertained the villain in a tacky grey suit with distant hums and 'oh, yeah, uh-huh's. It was best to just let them get it out of their system then try to shut them up.

"And I would've gotten away with it, too! If it weren't for you and your cat!" The shape shifter writhed in the nets.

"Sound like a damn Scooby-Doo villain." Miguel stood up with a huff. He would never admit it, but Hobie used the term so often, he had to look up what he was referencing. Only to end up watching the first few seasons. He had to stop around the third season, a sick sense of deja vu hitting him with a bat. The cartoons reminded him too much of the daughter he never really had.

With a sigh, "Lyla," He called.

The AI appeared before him, wearing a shit eating smirk. He opened his mouth to command something else when she beat him to it. "You should've asked for their number."

"What?" Miguel's head snapped up, eyes wide.

"They were cute, should've asked them on a date." She glitched to his side with a teasing laugh.

"Lyla, I... no." He grumbled, flicking at his watch.

"Oh, you know?" Miguel tried to smack her away, only for her to reappear on his left shoulder. "You should go back, then."

Miguel glared at her, ignoring how the tips of his ears began to burn. "I can't, its-"

"Not a canon event." They said at the same time. Lyla rolling her eyes behind her heart-shaped glasses, Miguel focusing on creating a portal. "You're such a loser, you know that?" She huffed and puffed, spawning with her back turned to him.

He tried to reach out with a heavy breath, but she moved further away. This time sitting with her arms crossed and pouting.

"They were cute." The villain nodded from his fetal position on the ground. Earning a glare from the two. Shrinking further into himself, the shape-shifter apologized.

Miguel thrust his forearms forward, his mantis blades catching on the fabric of time. Ripping them apart with a grunt. Orange and purple twisted in front of him, and he grabbed a hold of the red netting the anomaly was in.

"Meet me back at HQ," He spoke to his AI with a nod. Foot already in the portal, he turned to cast a menacing glance at Lyla. "And do not try anything."

She held up her hands in defense, watching the portal close behind him. It wasn't like she even had to do anything - not anymore. She already slipped his multiversal number into the collar of Spider-Cat. All that needed to happen was you either found it, or it fell out. Lyla just had to wait to see which option would be canon.

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Check out my Masterlist!

[neonponders]

Part 7 for @wrecked-fuse ‘s pocketverse 🧁

~ Part 6 ~

~ on ao3 ~

• • •

Billy had his assignment, and getting the smaller Billy’s head measurement was the easy part. He had to use a strip of paper to mark the circumference of the large noggin’ on the little body, and then measure that before he went to the most expensive store for tiny clothing.

“Okay, chipmunk. I’ll see you at the music store.”

“Bwing the hat!”

“They might have to make it if it’s not available,” Billy warned on his way out of the video store.

Big Steve sighed heavily, inducing Robin to scrutinize him. “Are you afraid of the doll store?”

“Only the woman who runs it. Can we close already? I’m ready to be a person again.”

“Music Stowre!” little Steve shouted with his hands in the air. Big Steve set their finished shoebox room on the counter and waved them in.

“Get inside, you two, and hold on tight.”

Billy charged through the cardboard flaps they’d cut like doors and pushed the button on the battery pack shoved under his bed. The little fairy lights around the room bloomed with warm light as they landed on their beds, ready for their ride.

Robin carefully tied shoelaces over both of them like seatbelts while Steve closed up the back of the store. She carried their precious cargo as he moved the register money bag to the safe and turned the lights off. With the front door finally locked, Steve heaved a breath of relief and ripped his vest off. “Okay, let’s go.”

Little Steve and Billy sang movie tunes on the way to the record shop. Robin couldn’t wipe the smile off her face as she held them on her lap and said to big Steve, “Getting Billy to go to the doll store is a test, isn’t it?”

Steve shrugged. “B wants a hat. It’ll be nice for someone else to use a credit card for a change. If I can get Hopper to buy anything, he’s getting a list.”

However, he felt Robin’s gaze on him and peeked at her before admitting, “Yeah, Billy Hargrove, lifeguard extraordinaire, in a doll store sounds hilarious. Sue me.”

“What’s wife gward?” small Billy exclaimed.

“He’s not a wife guard,” Robin sassed, rocking from the nudge Steve gave her. She rerouted, “Billy works at the Rec Center, little man. So he teaches exercise classes, swimming lessons, and makes sure people stay safe in the indoor and outdoor pools.”

“Biwwy’s a knight?” small Steve exclaimed in wonder.

Robin’s eyes narrowed as the car turned into a new parking lot. “I don’t know if that’s the right word for it, but it is technically his job to protect people.”

“Wow,” he breathed. “Big Biwwy, is so cool! But who keeps Biwwy safe?”

Robin and big Steve exchanged a loaded silence as he turned the car off. The latter reassured, “Billy can take care of himself while he’s gone. Are you ready to hear some music?”

“Hell yeah!” Billy declared.

Reggae played over the main speakers of the store, and an underlying aroma of marijuana wafted up from the carpets. Steve and Robin understood without saying anything that they needed an empty nook of the store. Robin set the box on a shelf between cassette and vinyl racks. She looked at the tape left in the player and set it aside before giving the shoelaces a tug to free the little ones. “You need to stay in there, okay? It’s too easy to get lost in here.”

Steve appeared and held up two small LP’s. “Do you want a little spicy or a little soul?”

“Spicy!” Billy demanded.

Robin placed the headset on the box as if the shoebox were a head, and Steve got the record player going. “You Spin Me Around” by Dead or Alive started up and Robin’s nose wrinkled.

“You’re going to give them a heart attack. Soul, soul, soul...” She started switching the LP’s, only to corner, “Steve, Boney M. is disco.”

“It’s groovy,” he smiled over a rolling shoulder. He put the other record back and set the needle down on the right song.

As music began to trickle over the shoebox bedroom, little Steve began to sway his hips. “Gwoovy,” he said experimentally.

Steve and Robin place the other headsets on their heads, the latter nodding along as Steve shamelessly danced in the store. “Let it out, lil dude. Let the music wiggle through you.”

Little Steve smiled shyly as he looked at Billy sitting on his bed and kicking his feet. “Gwoovy, Biwwy!”

Robin laughed, “Can you imagine how many complaints we’ll get if we play this at work?”

“Yeah, from Keith, if he ever bothers to actually come into work. Everyone else will thank us. How long until the GM realizes Keith is at the community college instead of Family Video?”

“Depends on when I need a raise,” she finished, letting more of her body move to the music.

Steve laughed and watched his smaller self coax Billy off the bed and do little hops and wiggles to the music. Robin encouraged, “Woo! Shake that wittle butt, Billy Boy. You’re rocking it.”

They both laughed as Billy did just that, bending his knees and throwing his butt back and forth while little Steve clapped his hands to the music.

A deeper voice warned, “Don’t throw your back out.”

The little ones gasped at big Billy joining them with his own box under his arm. Flicking the lid open, he withdrew something and twirled a familiar hat over his finger. “How about a summer jacket instead of that winter one? It’s not in season yet.”

Little Billy jumped up and down. “My hat! Will it fit? Gimme!”

Steve marveled, “They had a whole Indiana Jones doll?”

“I’ll mail you my fees,” Billy retorted, and shoved the box against Steve’s chest. Steve held it while Billy disrobed the doll and passed down the thinner jacket. Next came the hat -

“Don’t show him that,” Steve warned quietly when he gripped Billy’s hand inside the box.

Billy held his gaze a moment before he assured, “Relax, Harrington. It’s not a real whip. It’s just a string.”

“I don’t care. A bird will take these guys away if we’re not careful. B tries to belly flop off my bedside dresser every morning. Don’t let him see it.”

Billy’s brows reached for his hairline as he removed his hand from Steve’s grasp, holding it up defensively. “Your call, daddy Harrington.”

Robin pointed a mild grimace over Steve’s shoulder. Billy didn’t draw attention to it and instead looked down at little Billy putting the hat on smaller Steve’s head. “Stevie! We need a miwwor in here.”

Little Steve giggled and looked up at them, holding the wide-brimmed fedora on his head. “How do I wook?”

“Like a million bucks,” Steve congratulated.

Little Billy blushed. “Gwoovy.”

The corner of larger Billy’s mouth crooked up.

[yuncheoligans]

Easy as Breathing

P.SH x Reader

W/C:1176

Genre: Fluff, Stay at Home, Date Night.

Summary: You finally can have a date night with your partner, what will you get up to? He is the love of your life after all. Don't forget some shenanigans with a kitten.

a/n: Happy Birthday to one of my best friends on the entire planet! @hwaightme I love you so so so much and I can't believe we've spent almost a year together on this rock! Thank you for always believing in me even when I couldn't and making every day a little brighter with your art and delulu, you mean the absolute world to me and I love our chaos crew! I love you so much! I can't wait for many more! Here's to you!!!! <3 <3 <3 (also thank you my love @pocketjoong for beta-reading <3)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dating Seonghwa was as easy as breathing, he fell into you like a missing puzzle piece and wamed your heart like a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day. He was there in the time you were studying for your degree and you were there as he and his group traveled across your home, attending his performances was something you had always promised to do whenever you could. He made sure to be there when you had graduated and you made sure that you were at the show for his birthday.

You had moved in together some time ago as you could never be away from each other long enough to keep your own place. Your home was cozy and minimal, it had lego displays and Star Wars memorabilia, a sofa big enough fo every member and yourself in the living space with a tv made for watching movies. The coffee table adorned with “The Star Wars Archives” “Star Wars Art.” and “Cabinet of Natural Curriosities.” A turntable adorned a corner of the room with speakers. Art hung on the wall, some you created, some you both had purchased from art fairs. The color palette was cooler, soft blacks and whites, a few accents of emerald and a pop of gold. Seonghwa had liked it for the rich vibes it gave him. You both had worked hard to make it into a home, this was your home. You remind each other it could be a cardboard box and it’d feel like home if you were together.

After what felt like Seonghwa being gone forever you both had settled on a date night, and while all your outdoor plans had been rained out or cancelled due to the weather you could still make the most of it. Grabbing umbrellas and ponchos you head to the local department store to pick up a few things, a lego set, snacks, a book or two, a puzzle, and a movie to potentially watch later.

“Okay I’ll start organizing the pieces into categories.” you said sitting at the now cleared off coffee table lego box open.

“Okay I’ll see where we should start.” Seonghwa smiled at you.

Lego building always starts peaceful but about halfway through you both are arguing if that’s the correct piece or if it’s actually the piece you’re holding because it looks more like the picture that way, you decide to make hot chocolate to get away from him and cool off because after all it is a silly argument, Lego building is very serious in this household, just ask your cat…also named Lego. The sweetest little black kitten with the brightest roud boba eyes. Seonghwa as a cat as you describe to your friends.

After your adventures in lego building you decide to do something a little active to wake up so maybe a few rounds of Just Dance, or as Hwa suggested a Youtube tutorial on aerobics. Then of course neither of you could decide on reading or the puzzle so you decide to snuggle up on the sofa and he reads to you while you lean against him, adjusting his glasses when they start sliding off his face since his arms are too full of you to keep them on his nose. You journey back to the lego building but of course you become distracted when Lego begins chasing the light reflected off your phone onto the floor. Your giggles becoming his favorite sound on the planet.

As the date night came to a close you made his favorites for dinner, a proper feast even. He held you close as you cleaned the kitchen and began waltzing with you as if in one of those old time movies with the big poofy dresses and gloves, him in a three piece suit. In reality you’re both in glasses and pajamas laughing as you stumble around the kitchen and listen to him humming. Finally settling in for the night back on the couch watching Kiki’s Delivery Service.

“Maybe we should get Lego, a Jiji.” Seonghwa smiled down at you.

“You sure you can handle two cats and a girlfriend Hwa?” you smiled back slightly.

“Well I’d have you to help out now wouldn’t I.” he pinched you slightly. You yelpped out in surprise.

“Yah! Park Seonghwa!” you hit him with a pillow.

“What’s like without a little spontaneity” he smiled and held your arms above your head before crashing his lip down on yours.

Lego jumped up on the table and let out a mighty roar. A tiny baby meow that stopped you both in your tracks.

“Yes sir Lego?” Seonghwa looked at the kitten who has yelled at his father.

“I think he said ‘Stop attacking mom.’” you chuckled from under the love of your life.

“She did start it Lego.” Hwa chuckled and scooped the kitten into his arms.

“Okay maybe we do need another cat since I now have no cat and no cuddles Hwa.” you pout gently.

“Well then, my little witch needs her Jiji doesn’t she?” he smiled and passed Lego into your arms and held you both close. “See this works much better doesn’t it.”

“It does……..PARK SEONGHWA!” you practically launched the kitten across the sofa and turned to hit the man who once again has found it in his enjoyment to torture his poor significant other while the cuddle on the couch.

“Have I ever told you how much I loved you.” he smiled as he stared into your eyes like they held the stars in the sky. 

“You could stand to mention it more now that you’re here.” you stuc your tongue out at him.

“I love you very much darling. Very. Very. Much.” he emphasized each very with a kiss to your lips. 

“You’ve now distracted me through the whole movie.” you chuckle and push him up gently.

“Alright alright, I give.” he sat back up and let you get comfortable.

It wasn’t long before the warmth of the blanket mixed with you partner in crime, a soft movie, and full stomach from too many snacks and tea began to drift you off to sleep.

“I do love you very very much my darling.” Seonghwa kissed the top of your head as you breathed peacefully without a care in the world.  Yes dating Seonghwa was as easy as breathing.

Bonus:

You awoke the next morning, it still dark and damp from the non-stop rain of the night, the soft patter on the window, Seonghwa arrived with a coffee just how you like it and his laptop under his arm.

“Good Morning Darling.” he smiled softly as you sat up and took the coffee.

“Mmm Mornin’ ” you mumbled.

“I was browsing for our very own Jiji this morning while I was waiting for your coffee to finish, I think I found the perfect one. Sure she’s not a black cat like the movie but-”

“She’s perfect Hwa.” you looked at the photo of the mostly black cat with a sweet little white star patch over her chest.

[unreliablesnake]

Okay I have fic request with ghost x fem!reader based on that one scene in Jumaji welcome to the jungle. Let’s say we’re apart of the team and on a mission where the reader has to distract some guards and does the whole dance fighting thing with baby I love the way playing in the back and you know the part where The rock comes out of the shed thing (???) it’s ghost instead. I’m sorry if that doesn’t make any sense😭😭😭

Note: I haven't seen that movie since it was released so I had to check this scene on Youtube.

••••••

Ghost couldn't believe those guards were this stupid. Instead of working in silence, listening to make sure they catch any suspicious sound around them, they had some song blasting from the speakers around their little outdoor base.

And you found it hilarious. As the group of you went through the plan, you immediately interrupted Ghost and volunteered to distract them. "I feel like dancing," you said with a wide, Cheshire cat smile.

He gave you a confused look, having absolutely no idea what you meant by that. But he trusted you, so he nodded and agreed to let you do what you wanted.

"Soap, you're staying near, making sure she doesn't get herself killed," he ordered, earning a nod from the sergeant.

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed you looking offended by the assumption that she couldn't handle it alone. But he didn't care. He couldn't care about your ego when your life was on the line.

You and Ghost began to head towards your target at the same time, departing halfway as you were going to the guards, and he was on his way to the barn in the back. He heard the sounds of you getting into a fight with them over a song he recognized from the '90s, but didn't have time to see you, he first had to check if what he was looking for was there at all.

When he emerged from the building a few minutes later, his eyes finally landed on you. You hadn't been kidding, you truly looked like you were dancing to the music as you fought the enemy, taking them down one by one without getting as much as a scratch.

Probably this was the first time when he was distracted on a mission, his mind focused on you. He had a soft spot for you, ever since the day you met, feeling like it was his duty to make sure you were safe and happy.

But he couldn't let it show, this is why when you looked over at him, he cleared his throat, signaled Soap to join you, then turned around to go back into the barn.

You couldn't find out he liked you. Not when it would put you both in danger and in trouble.

[seasquared]

the young boys of summer

Even if there are four seasons in this world, one season stands alone as the ultimate vibe in kpop, and that's the summer bop. This could be, and usually is, a song released late into spring or in the doldrums of the season itself, but timing of the release is not determinative. If you are lucky, the song will advertise itself as such (GFriend's "Sunny Summer," ITZY’s “IT’z Summer,” f(x)'s "Hot Summer"). But like most vibes, you know it when you hear it, like the first time you are graced with Sistar's legendary, iconic, never-to-be-duplicated "Touch my body.” When you hear these songs, you instantly recognize the canonical kpop summer accent, big bold brasses and sounds that seem slapped joyfully out of their instruments and maybe a Spanish guitar. They demand to be played during cookouts, on outdoor patios, through a portable poolside speaker, with a silly little nonsense chorus that only makes sense because the sun has baked off a few of your braincells (ATEEZ’s “Wave”, I’m looking at you). You play these songs around other people, because sharing things makes them hotter, and thus you cooler.

If the "Red Flavors" and "Alcohol-frees" of this world are the accent of summer, then there are the kpop songs that are intended as [Erik Singer voice] evocations, meant to suggest summer and, in some cases, its eventual passing. It's my personal opinion that the slightly jazzy, very r&b, midtempo jam is the sound of autumn, but even if you don't agree, you can hear how Heize in "And July" uses Dean's khiphop vocal stylings to hint at the eventual cooling down of summer and the relationship. A touch of synthwave (IKON's "But You"), EDM (AKMU's "Dinosaur"), or sultry poledancing (After School's "First Love") are all quick shortcuts to this kind of song, one that never quite mentions summer by name but could only be played on a hot summer night. And you couldn’t ask for a better example than Winner's discography, which is littered with summer hits of both kinds. "Island" is a dictionary-definition perfect rendition of the canonical mid-summer accent, while "Everyday" despite its beachy, swimsuit-packed MV and April release date is an end of summer evocation, and “Really Really” somewhere in between. 

My favorite summer kpop evocation is the emotional rock anthem. Seventeen are such masters of every variety of the summertime bop ("Healing", "Swimming Fool," "Very Nice") that at some point you just have to lovingly roll your eyes at them releasing a thirst trap song in the middle of summer and naming it "Hot" because, of course. "Rock with you" was released smack dab in the fall months of October, but when I heard it I knew what it was: a "goodbye summer" song, too melancholy for summer vacation and too exuberant for going back to school but just perfect for convincing you that you have one last chance to tell your summer crush that you like them. Others in this vein: a little bit of BTS' "Run," a little bit of Stray Kids' "Time Out," and a whole lot of TXT's "0x1=LOVESONG."

And so too with NINE.i's "Young Boy." Released in November of last year, it too is a summer evocation, rock anthem subspecies, opening with a combo of synths and rhythmic strumming that drives you recklessly forward through the song like a car barreling down a mostly empty highway covered in the bruised purples and pinks of sunset. It is stuffed full of all the typical (post?) 4th gen markers: video cameras, stickers, spray paint, a tightly focused shot of someone boxing in a dimly lit warehouse, sparklers, the vague sense that you are intruding on a Lost Boys paradise. No kpop MV has captured the turbulent and contradictory angst of being a teenager better than the 0:32 mark, when Vari laughingly looks back on footage he's filmed of his groupmates while lipsyncing the line "When I get sick of it and say, 'Hate this.'"

It's no secret that kpop centers youth: in its performers, its intended audience, its aesthetics, in many of its lyrics. When BTS closed out their adolescent period, they released a two-part mini album whose English title is usually rendered as "The Most Beautiful Moment in Life." For BTS, there is no ambiguity as to when that moment happens: it is when you are young, which Suga underscores in the intro track that shares the album's name. Perhaps at the time BTS meant the title a little ironically, more question mark (the most beautiful?) than exclamation mark. (This is, after all, the group that wrote a song called "War of Hormone" that includes a lyric about squeezing pimples every day.) But when it came time to join the mini-albums into one full-length album, they doubled down, giving the compilation the subtitle "Young Forever" and releasing a song with the same name which declares over and over again "forever / we are young."

"Young" is, of course, not a number. BTS was not declaring the members' intention to remain physically immortal, kpop vampires who never age past their 20s. To be "forever young" is "endlessly run towards my dream," to push forward despite being lost in a maze, to "fall and hurt myself" but still get back up and keep pushing. "Forever we are young" is also an acknowledgement that BTS may always be remembered by some of their fans for this era, caught in glorious high definition high concept music videos that celebrate a carefree "live fast die young" aesthetic. In the MV for "Epilogue: Young Forever," these images, distorted as if on VHS tape, trap the members in a cage of fences. When they escape, it is to an empty runway while a plane flies overhead as if towards heaven. Is this freedom, or death? The only way to remain young forever may be to die young; or put another way, to remain young forever is to die.

Don Henley knew this when he wrote "The Boys of Summer," the summer evocation to end all summer evocations. It is, as everyone knows, not an ode actually to the boys of summer but rather to what remains after they are gone. Its best lines ("Out on the road today / I saw a Deadhead sticker on a Cadillac") are about the contradictions of growing up, realizing that you may have to betray the idealism of your youth. It is, in other words, not Maverick and Iceman playing beach volleyball in Top Gun but rather a much older Tom Cruise in Top Gun: Maverick finally having to sit down on the sidelines to watch his students carry on playing beach football without him. The "you" of the song is a girl that Henley's singer still longs for, perhaps one he met when he himself was a boy of summer. But for a very long time, I thought Henley's singer was addressing himself as a younger man. (Can you blame me, when he sings about hair "slicked" back, wearing Wayfarers like one of Top Gun's flyboys?) Through the course of the song, Henley makes peace with the death of youth as best as he can. "Those days are gone forever," he says. He has had to grow up. But in his heart, he still sees his lost love—and maybe himself—forever young.

Perhaps that is what NINE.i is summoning in "Young Boy," when they sing "I can even die." For a moment you may think they are singing "I can't even die," and in a way, both are right. To stop being young is to die, spiritually, but growing old does not mean you stop being young. You can always return to that state. NINE.i's young boy is one of Henley's boys of summer, always shining in the sun, smiling at everyone. He is gone only if you, like Henley's speaker, let him go, turn your back on him and turn him into a sticker on the back of your Cadillac. The young boy of summer is immortal, not because he can't be hurt, but because he is mythological. Youth is not an interlude in one's life. It is a state of possession, like an ancient god that descends upon your body. It is a bit unfamiliar but, NINE.i assures you, as long as you can dream him, he is "forever."

[randomvarious]

Today’s compilation:

This Is Soca, Vol. 2 1986 Soca / Calypso

I don't think that I've ever deliberately gone out of my way to listen to soca or calypso music before (soca is a term that stands for soul-calypso), but this ephemerally contemporaneous LP from London Records claims to represent the best of an array of the Trinidadian stuff from 1985 and 1986. So, as something of a perpetual music explorer myself, color me both intrigued and excited to start to dig into something totally new! 😊

And here's some takeaways: one, I don't think that this is necessarily a great album for just sitting down and straight-up listening to, but if I was glued to a stool at an outdoor Caribbean beach bar with this coming out of its speakers, and I also had a few Modelos in me, I could definitely see my stupid tourist ass vibing real hard to some of this stuff, especially a song like "Too Young to Soca," sung by Machel Montano, who was just 11 years old when he made it. But by that same token, if I had the job of tending that outdoor Caribbean beach bar, and I had to hear all of these songs at least once a day, there's a slight chance that they might actually cause me to go insane 😅.

Secondly, a solid chunk of these tunes sound like they could play in the first act of some hypothetical, animated, Caribbean-set Disney flick, in which everyone—the people, the animals, and even the plant life—all sing and sway together in perfect harmony, before any real conflict starts to arise. So, in that sense, this stuff's just a little too polished and clean for my liking. And I also think that you can draw a straight line from this very cheery 80s soca vibe to some of 90s and 2000s Europop's most insufferable and overly sugary tendencies, especially the kind that imported Latin and Caribbean sounds; like this total monstrosity from Loona, for example 😫.

That said, I still managed to discover a couple awesome tunes on here. One is the danciest track of the bunch, a polyrhythmic floor destroyer with a bunch of stabbing horns on it by a guy from Montserrat (a British territory a few hundred miles north of Trinidad and Tobago) called Arrow, who was apparently the island’s first soca star and enjoyed himself a very long and fruitful career. "Party People Rock" is a super infectious track.

And the other great song is one that intermittently features some steelpan on it, which I think is one of the world's most underappreciated instruments. It's called "The Hammer," by Charlies Roots, and despite the song only receiving just a sprinkling of that steelpan, there's no doubt that it would be significantly worse off without it. The steelpan has just such a cool and relaxingly unique sound to it. I definitely need more of it in my life.

So, there's probably a better introduction to soca music than this album—one that spans more years than just 1985 and 1986—but I'm still glad I managed to find a couple goodies on here. Was definitely expecting to hear a lot more steelpan, though. Maybe it's not actually as central to soca as I thought it was, or maybe this album is just leading me to a wrong conclusion. Guess I'll have to listen to some more in order to find out 🤔.

Highlights:

Arrow - "Party People Rock" Charlies Roots - "The Hammer"

[purehoneybees]

@silencedmoths sent 🎲 to generate a kiss!

16. a kiss in the rain!

Ever since they started dating, Tyson couldn't get enough of Raven. While he was producing music, he would invite her to the studios to meet up with the various music acts that he was creating music for—which always sat her with the groupies that joined the sessions. Nonetheless, it had made Raven quite popular among his friends and artists that he produced for. Which lead to her being asked to join him at the music festival he was going to be at.

He had a set later that night to perform some of his dj sets after midnight. But for now one of his musicians was going on stage as the headliner for the first night at the festival. As cool as backstage was, Tyson wanted to make sure that she got the full experience in the vip section that sat right at the foot of the stage. The outdoor camp theme was active all around them with trees surrounding the stages and the crowd flooding in behind them.

A rain cloud flies in, as if to ruin the moment as the alternative pop-rock music begins blasting on the speakers and the band steps out to perform. Rain falls on the crowd but it only stands to elevate the moment. The fans were already sweaty and gross from a full day of festival fun—a little rain only energized them.

As the rain fell on the two of them and the music set the scene, Tyson pulled her in for a passionate kiss. The beautiful part of this moment was the song being played was one produced by Tyson—with her as the inspiration for the piece.

[brittajjackson]

Visited a small used bookstore in the tiny town of Elma, Wa. Picked up a few books on art and thumbed through the old vintage records.

I can never remember what records I already have, so I didn’t purchase any. But it does make me think I ought to use my record player more often. It currently sits in our dining room along with my husband’s enormous floor speakers, mostly just getting in the way of family dinner time.

Occasionally the kids dig in and find the Fraggle Rock album, but mostly we’ve attempted to ignore the record cabinet simply to preserve our favorite music collection from curious little hands.

And then my mind wanders to my younger days when I used to listen to records, wander through vintage shops and go to concerts at least weekly.

Add to 2023 to do list: outdoor concert.

Art covered the walls all the way to the ceiling. It was quiet and chilly on a winter’s Wednesday. I’d like to get out and visit more places like this. The challenge of small town/rural life is that this shop is 30 miles from my front door. The beauty of this small life is that the drive is mostly country roads and the books are cheap.

[bestsurfpodcasts]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐇𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐑𝐞𝐠𝐠𝐚𝐞 - 𝐖𝐓𝐅? 𝐍𝐨𝐧-𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐩 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐒𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐈𝐭! New Grit! - Surfing Podcast!

Why Reggae Might Not Be Everyone's Jam: A Deep Dive

Reggae music has its champions, but not everyone is a fan. In a recent discussion, we explored its cultural impact and the stark views on its popularity, questioning the authenticity of its fans and the ethics of parking practices. Let's dive deeper!

Reggae vs. Dancehall: A Personal Battle

Reggae music has a distinct vibe, often symbolized by icons like Bob Marley. However, one participant boldly states that reggae isn't their cup of tea. This sentiment might be shared by many who associate reggae solely with Marley's mainstream hits, missing the genre's rich diversity. For them, dancehall offers a more electrifying experience. Without exposure to the multitude of reggae styles available, these listeners may feel deprived of what the genre can truly offer. Personal experiences can shape musical preferences, leading to strong opinions that may overlook reggae's cultural depth. Exploring local influences or rare tracks might change the narrative for those disillusioned by the genre.

The Commercialization of Reggae: A Double-Edged Sword

Commercialization in music isn't a new phenomenon, but reggae fans often express skepticism about those who embrace the genre superficially. The conversation highlights how some people's passion for reggae seems more like a trend than genuine appreciation. Often, reggae is marketed reductively, leading many to misinterpret its essence. Take, for instance, the ubiquitous use of reggae beats in advertisements—does it not dilute the genre’s authenticity? The same could be said for rock and roll: while it has its roots in rebellion, it's now often packaged for mass consumption. The challenge remains for true reggae enthusiasts to keep its spirit alive and educate the broader audience about its rich history and nuanced styles.

Cultural Portrayals: Reggae’s Misunderstood Image

Reggae's portrayal in popular culture often revolves around stereotypical portrayals: laid-back personas, and tropical vibes. This depiction could overshadow the genre's complexity and socio-political roots. Comparing this to the scene at full-service gas stations illustrates a key point: we sometimes miss the importance of service and attention. Interestingly, a recent trip to a full-service station in Baja revealed a refreshing contrast to California’s self-service approach. Such services not only create jobs but also foster client interaction, much like how authentic reggae music fosters community and understanding. If we misinterpret reggae’s laid-back vibe, we risk missing out on the message beneath the surface.

Parking Etiquette: A Reflection on Ethics

The ethics of parking—particularly when it involves handicap spaces—reveals the broader discussions of privilege and respect in everyday actions. Parking in handicap spaces without permission is not just a minor faux pas; it disrupts the lives of those who genuinely need those spaces. Many might feel tempted to park just for a quick errand, but this negligence can have broader implications. The speaker’s reflection on such ethical dilemmas presents a valid point: we should be more aware of our privileges. It's not only about following rules; it's about ensuring our actions reflect consideration for those around us. Thus, practicing empathy in trivial choices like parking can lead to more significant impacts in our communities.

The Importance of Customer Service: Lessons from Trader Joe's

The cheerful environment at Trader Joe's often catches our attention, often stemming from how employees engage with their jobs. Unlike the pit-stops at self-service gas stations, where interaction can be minimal, Trader Joe's employees embody a positive work culture. Factors like outdoor work and engaging tasks contribute to their mood. Tipping practices can also enhance our interactions—encouraging workers to provide the best service possible. It's a win-win that amplifies the customer experience while ensuring employees feel appreciated. Just as reggae music builds community through rhythm and lyrics, so do job environments that celebrate interaction and positivity.

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCKnQvHULQJRlkJ5F0BJER8A