#ramblin gal

[cowpokeomens]

Hey I have a headcanon no one asked for that no one has ever made Noah a birthday cake :-/ like, his birthday was never a big deal bc Halloween and candy so like, no more sugar needed- little Noah holding a purple-frosted cupcake with spider sprinkles from a Halloween party at school and singing himself “Happy Birthday” :-/ but you bake! And it’s almost his birthday so of course you make him a cake! And he’s so fucking touched by it. Because you took the time to bake a cake and frost it and decorate it just for him and it’s not a Halloween cake disguised as a birthday cake, it’s just a cake for him :-( and in the moment he gives you a sincere “thank you” but the next day when he sees it sitting in the fridge he absolutely tears up :-( decides to pay back the favor and makes you a cake for your birthday, and yes it’s from a box and yes it’s a little fucked up because he didn’t realize it needed to be super cold to frost well, but he made it for you! Even added heart sprinkles to it :-( and you actually do cry in front of him because no one has ever made you a birthday cake bc you’re always the one baking :-( and then y’all kiss kiss fall in love the end

[chellyrps]

What are your biggest reflections, lessons learned, and gratitudes for 2023? What are your intentions, goals, and dreams for 2024? Pass this on to 3 blogs you follow!

these are such beautiful questions !! i really wanted to sit down and give these a long hard think, so thank you nonnie ♡ this past year, i did a lot to challenge myself - especially in terms of my career. i was able to land an awesome && unexpected promotion, totally outside of my comfort zone, and it's been going really well. maybe even better than i had initially figured. i've had some stumbles, but all within an environment that has allowed for my growth, and for that i am truly thankful. i'm thankful for all of it tbh. it's meant a lot, getting to work in human services, and it's reminded me to count my blessings. even when things have been bleak, i've always had support, and not everyone can say that. i've been taught many lessons in gratitude this year, but also in patience and acceptance ... because my siblings really let me down this past year, but i've made some real peace with that. i came to understand that they're just doing their best from their own ends. i know that there are going to be more opportunities to show up for each other, so i'm thankful for that, too. i really do believe that we are all just doing our best with what we have at the time. as for 2024, oh man ... i have a lot of hopes. i'm not necessarily calling them goals, because i'm working on managing my own expectations in 2024, but i have hopes. things i want to accomplish, but won't be too hard on myself if i don't. i think that's going to be very important for me, and probably for many of us, this year !! i want to have a great first year at this new job, and i really want to be able to implement some of the changes that i can see being beneficial to our department. i'm going to do some more part-time work with a small business and help get their feet off the ground in my area; i have some serious hopes for what that will turn into. all of this to continue building my skills && my savings so that i can hopefully, and pls i'll need a prayer circle for this lmao, move into a nicer space, maybe even get really lucky and buy a house with my partner. in this economy ... i know, i feel it too, these are hopes for a reason !! improvement, in all areas of my life ... even small betterments - that's really what i want for myself this year. i'm starting to feel my age, which is beautiful, as it's a blessing to age !! but alas, i am, and i want to be able to give myself more sure footing if i can, and i really believe that i can. which, speaking of, i've got to start making more home cooked meals because i was pitiful with that during the week in 2023 so here's to summoning my inner julia child in 2024 !! i've also been spending SO much time with my friends lately, and that is something i really need to continue into 2024 because they are my favorite, and the community we have built is truly everything to me !! wow, thank you for sending this to me, nonnie !! i think i needed this today after we just got like 12 inches of snow LOL i had more time to reflect than i probably otherwise would have. and please let me take a moment to thank everyone on tumblr dot com who has been with me this year, even just in notifications, because you've also made me so happy ♡ i left this blog on ice for a while, but it feels so heckin nice to be back and enjoying it. here's to an amazing and gratifying 2024 ♡ if anyone ever needs some support, i'm always here.

[uzumaki-rebellion]

"Ice Cold Jax" Geechee!Erik Killmonger

Pairing: Geechee!Erik Killmonger x Black Female OC

Warning(s): 18+, Smut, Supernatural Horror, Period Piece, Erik Stevens AU, Black American Folktale.

Summary: Erik "Killmonger" Stevens is a Geechee wanderer and lover of big-legged women and good moonshine. On a trip to visit his favorite juke joint in 1940s Mississippi, he entertains a lover of sorts, Lulabelle, the juke joint owner and Madame of the nearby whorehouse. Erik battles two mythical creatures from Black American folklore, the Plat Eye and the Crossroads Man in order to save Lulabelle and her establishment. The tale is told from the perspective of a ghost who was once Lulabelle's best friend.

Word count: 5.5K

"The winter time is coming

And it's going to be slow

You can't make the weather baby

it's dry long so

You betta come on in my kitchen

because it's going to be Raining outdoors..."

Cassandra Wilson – "Come on in my Kitchen" (Written by Robert Johnson)

There were two things Lulabelle Humphreys knew how to sell in Itta Bena Mississippi and that was moonshine and other people's pussy.

She did that very well until one night of the Harvest moon when cotton would soon be harvested by the local sharecroppers and itinerant Mexican men who traveled through the delta region looking for work like every other Negro or poor white trash far and wide. On that night under a sweltering heat full of drunk patrons and her smooth-talking whores inside her juke joint with the "special ladies" house attached by a rickety bridge that crossed over a tiny creek full of frogs and singing crickets, Lulabelle witnessed the showdown of all showdowns between the Plat Eye and the Crossroads Man, shonuff, right inside her little rambling hot music-havin' and ice-cold beer havin' establishment.

And if it hadn't been for that slow walking city-to-city wandering Geechee man with the gold teeth, slick smile, and flashy suit standing by her with the smarts of his low country kin back in South Carolina, why Lulabelle might've lost everything that night like she lost me so many years ago when that Plat Eye stole me away when we was teenaged girls in these backwoods. But thank the Lord up above for Erik Stevens ramblin' through with that shiny switchblade, and his Gullah ways, cuz shonuff, that was a night to remember and I'm gonna tell it exactly how it happened from top to bottom and all the sides in between. I ain't been dead long enough or forgotten long enough to not tell it all...

"Mavis, how much lavender water is left in there?"

Lulabelle shouted into the open door that led to one of the "loving" rooms inside her special house.

"There's one bottle left," Ruth called out.

The young woman was nothing but string bean arms and toothpick legs, however, she was a favorite among the darker-skinned Black sharecroppers who admired her fair skin and limp shiny black hair. Even the high yella gals envied what Ruth could pull in because the men were willing to part with more money to fuck what was as close to a white woman as they would get.

Lulabelle knew clearly what a fetish was, so she used Ruth for the high income, but she also had Mavis, a crystal Black pearl with a dark hue so deep that negro soldiers from the military base lined up for hours waiting to part her dusky thighs to taste the sticky sweets within. There was someone for everybody at the house. Big women. Little scrawny women. Big Bodacious titties and itty-bitty mosquito bites. For the richly endowed there was Starla with a pussy so fat and deep that blues ballads were written for her. For the poorly imbued, there was Tweety Pie, a tiny woman with a small tight snatch that rivaled Starla in particular-sized fans.

For the men who didn't fawn over the womenfolk, there was Honey Boy, a twenty-something pretty little thing with bow lips, high cheekbones, and a fat ass that posed as a houseboy who brought fresh after-sex towels, water for the whore baths, and rubbers for the men who forgot to prepare for penetration. Honey Boy could dress like a pretty woman and serve clients fat wood if that was to a patron's liking. Lulabelle was surprised at how popular he was becoming on the low low, especially from the men in the military. Men with men had always been a reality, but Honey Boy was multidimensional. He could turn into a Butch boy from a chain gang, to a bullying Army sergeant to dominate and spread male ass cheeks that needed fat balls against balls. Or he could be a dainty femme movie star in a bra and heels with his hard dick swinging. Lulabelle kept a ready supply of costumes for him, more than the women. All the ladies needed were pretty underwear, strong garter belts, and lipstick. She kept quiet that she paid Honey Boy more than anyone else.

The second world war was putting money in her pockets. 1942 was a profitable war year for Lulabelle. Her pocketbook was fat with cash, and she could now afford real jewelry instead of the cheap costume fare she sported the last three years. She could even maintain a steady hot comb appointment at Mamie's Wash and Curl uptown. Her latest favorite style was imitating Joan Crawford's immaculate curls that she saw in the talkies at the Bijou theater. When she really wanted to look glamorous, she would have Mamie swoop up her thick hair on top of her head with a pinned curl on the front and an under curl in the back. The rich white women she saw in the new color catalogues wore their hair like that.

She wore her hair like that for that evening. It was a special night. The Harvest Moon was going up, and the men would be arriving in droves to drink, dance, and fuck.

He was coming too.

The Gullah man. That sly Geechie with the gold teeth.

Erik Stevens.

His arrival always coincided with some new moon every few months. She'd dress up extra special when she thought he was coming through. Her pussy was already twitching thinking about him.

"I'll have Honey Boy get you a fresh bottle," Lulabelle said patting the back of her hair.

It was hot already, and she worried that her hair wouldn't maintain until Erik saw it. Ruth stepped out of the room. The yellow silk camisole Lulabelle bought for her came to her thighs and had enough lace in the front to cover the baby bulge that was threatening to peek out. The girl got knocked up and none of the home remedies the cook Eva concocted worked in knocking the unwanted pregnancy out. Ruth could probably hide the truth for another month or so, but eventually she would have to go on convalescence and Lulabelle would have to rely on the other women to please the Ruth fans until the woman returned or left for a new life in the North. Until then, Ruth was about making her money and camouflaging the bump.

"Can you tell?" she asked.

Lulabelle squinted.

"These men will be too drunk to notice. Keep the garment on and don't worry about it."

Lulabelle checked in on the other ladies and all was well. Seven rooms, seven whores, seven sources of revenue on top of the juke joint next door. She peeked in on one of the mirrors inside a room and felt satisfied. Her beige dress hugged the curves of her big wide hips and large backside. Her heels made her short body have a little height. She needed a little more powder for her round nose, and the grease pencil she used for her eyes held the dark wings she gave herself.

"Eat your heart out, Joan," she muttered to herself.

She crossed the little wooden bridge that led to the juke joint making sure her crème bow top summer pumps didn't get dirty. Her name was painted in fading blue letters above the entrance. By Christmas she hoped to get a fancy electric sign that sparkled "Lula's". Honey Boy swept the porch entry and she could smell the grease being heated on the kitchen stove inside by Eva. There'd be fried chicken, black-eyed peas, collards with ham hocks, and plenty of buttermilk cornbread to sell with the ice cold Jax beer and corn liquor.

Her eyes scanned the lowering sun over the canopy of Tupelo trees. A loud shriek startled her and made Honey Boy stop sweeping.

"What was that?" Honey Boy asked.

His pressed hair was slicked back, and his copper brown skin was moist with sweat from the oppressive heat.

Lulabelle clutched at her chest. The sound came from deep in the woods. The darkness there shrouded any mysteries that lived within it.

"Sounded like something caught," she said.

The hairs on the back of her neck rose.

A memory.

Being a young teen girl with...

No. Don't think of her. That was the past.

Lulabelle pushed down on the terror in her throat and hid her shaking fingers in front of her dress.

"Probably some unlucky racoon ran across Old Man Rickers trap," she said.

"Yeah, you prolly right, Lulabelle. The man been hunting out there this week."

She heard the doubt in his tremulous voice. The lie hung in the air like dark sap on a dying tree between them.

"That sounded like death is on his way," Eva said.

The older plump woman opened the screen door of the juke joint while wiping down a plate.

"Don't say that, Eva. It's just an old coon, or a slow wild pig—"

The shriek pierced the air again.

"Lord have mercy," Eva said.

The older woman cradled the cheap gold-plated crucifix around her neck.

Rifle shots sounded in the distance and Lulabelle jumped, then smiled.

"See? Just some hunters putting some fresh meat down. Let's get ready for tonight, y'all."

Not one of them moved from the porch until Archie started tinkling on the piano keys inside the juke.

Pussy poppin' in the whorehouse, music jumping, bodies swaying, lips sucking down moonshine and dark beer, Lula's juke shook on its foundations. Dollar bills came in hand over fist as Lulabelle strolled around the property checking in with customers and hustling Eva to fry up more chicken plates. She rounded the corner of the makeshift stage shaking her hips to the hot sounds when her eyes slid to the entrance and saw Geechie Erik swagger in. Double-breasted gray suit with shiny silver buttons and matching cufflinks. Steel-blue silk tie, and black and gray woven Oxford shoes had the Geechie man draped. Lulabelle already knew he smelled like a million bucks even though she was standing nowhere near him. Erik took off his black fedora hat. He had kicked up the waves on his close-cropped hair, and his lightly bearded cheeks gave him a pronounced sophistication compared to all the clean-shaven military men taking up most of the space in the joint.

His eyes scanned the wide room and when they fell on her, her heart sang a minuet in his honor just to see those dimples in his cheeks. He strode toward her with long confident strides and when he circled his arm around her waist, she shivered at his touch.

"Lulabelle, Lulabelle. You get prettier every time I see you."

He gave her a wet sloppy kiss on her cheek, and she swooned. His scent was expensive leather, imported cologne, and Murray's hair pomade.

"Lemme get you a drink, Daddy," she purred.

"No, let me get you a drink. Stay right here."

He sauntered over to the big counter and within minutes he brought her back a small glass of whiskey to match his own. They toasted, tossed the liquor back, and he led her to an open table in the low-lit corner as bodies pressed together dancing around them. His thick lips were on her neck before she could gaze into his eyes, and his thicker fingers were already under her dress creeping over a seamed stocking, her garter belt, and the bottom of her girdlette. He inched closer to her core.

"Goodness gracious, you already hot down here," he whispered in her ear.

His finger swiped across Lulabelle's panties bringing her clit to life.

"Oh... there it is... my jewel," he crooned before he slid the garment aside and fingered her slit.

Erik had her sopping wet by the time the band switched tunes. Two of his warm fingers pumped in and out of her pussy, making her pant and writhe on her seat next to him.

"You gon' sweat my hair out already!" she yelped reaching for the back of her neck.

Erik flipped his digits over palm-side up and finger fucked her until a puddle of creamy juices flowed out onto her chair. Once her legs shook and she squirmed uncontrollably, he bolted up from his seat and grabbed her hand. His dick jutted out from his pants and he dragged through the side door that led to the wooden bridge and the loving house.

"Get the fuck out," he told a patron having his dick sucked in the first room they came to.

Tweety Pie was on her knees, her bright red lips puckered around a small light brown penis. Her eyes grew wide when she saw Erik and the rigid length straining against his zipper.

Erik whipped out his switchblade and flicked it open.

"Out!" he barked.

Tweety Pie scrambled from her knees and pulled her customer by his hand with his trousers dragging around his ankles to another room. Erik slammed the door shut on the gawking eyes of the other whores and pushed Lulabelle against a mahogany cabinet that held lingerie.

"Turn around."

The snarl in his voice made her spin and toot her big ass out toward him. He dragged the cool blade up against the bottom of her stockings until it dipped just under the hem of her dress. He yanked her dress up around her chest and the sharp blade skimmed across her black satin-covered ass cheek. With just a little more pressure he could break the skin on her fat rump through the material and make her bleed. Erik jerked the blade and sliced her panties off. She gasped and clutched at the smooth wood of the cabinet for balance. She heard his zipper peel down slowly and felt his hands fumble for a rubber.

"You miss Daddy?"

"Yes!"

He parted her folds before she could catch her breath. The fullness stretching her out made her shout his name and grit her teeth. Pumping into her slowly at first, he teased the hell out of her by pushing in deep, then pulling all the way out so that her pussy lips throbbed needing his dick back inside of her.

"I missed this pussy... so much... taking me so deep!"

His switchblade rested on the middle of her naked spine and tickled her skin purposely.

"Take this dress off!"

He helped her wiggle her arms out of it before unfastening her bra with his hands. Cradling her heavy breasts, he made her cheeks clap as his weapon clattered to the floor. His full concentration was on pleasing her body. Rough wide palms spread her ass cheeks wide as he grunted and pushed down on his thighs to hunch over her.

"Lula, shit... Lula..."

Erik gripped her hips and slammed into her before pulling out and lifting her up. He tossed Lula on the soft lumpy bed, undressed, and plunged back into her. The gold in his mouth glinted above her as he thrust harder and faster knocking the breath out of her body.

Her garter belts bunched up then stretched with her girdlette when he pushed her thighs back.

"Big legged girl... mmmm," he groaned.

He shoved his head down to her folds and sucked on her lower lips before spitting on them and sinking his girth back inside her walls.

"Daddy hittin' that bottom yet?"

"You in there... real deep, Daddy."

"Lemme get deeper..."

Her ankles met her earlobes and the heavy pressure from his dick made her cock-eyed a spilling gibberish from her mouth.

"Oh, Jesus!" she yelped when his fists rested on her sides and he bucked into her, slapping his balls against her ass.

Before he could press his mouth into her swollen pussy again to glisten his face, she clenched up around his dick and squeezed it with rhythmic pulses she had no control over.

"That's a good girl... let that pussy talk to Daddy's dick, Lula."

His eyes watched her contractions yank on his length, and when he finished talking her through her release with high praises and slow wet kisses, he pulled off the rubber and stroked himself against her clit. The silky curls of her pubic hairs were wet with her creamy orgasm and became even wetter when Erik splashed hot cum all over her vulva. His shouts of pleasure filled her with quiet confidence.

"That's it Daddy, cum all over your fat pussy."

He hissed when she said that, and his heated glare encouraged more of his release. A thick rope of semen painted her stomach, and he collapsed on top of her with hard ragged gasps.

"God, I wish I could be in this pussy every day, Lula."

"You could," she said stroking the waves on his hair.

He rolled over onto his back and stared at the ceiling with her.

"Not with the work I do. I try my best to get here when I can. But shit, baby. If I didn't get this pussy for free, I would pay a fortune for it."

She rolled on her side to look at him, happy that he thought of her like that. His eyes were still on the ceiling, but there was a frown on his face.

"She's in the room, y'know. Up there hiding in the corner."

"Don't say that, Erik. You know it scares me."

"If you did what I told you to do, she'd go away."

"As long as she don't start no foolishness around here, I can live with a ghost."

"Can you? Then how come you're scared?"

"She was my friend. I know she blames me for getting away and not her."

"A good coating of haint blue all around the doors would keep her out..."

"I can't. I can't do that to her. If she's just lingering as a ghost, it makes me feel like she can live a little."

"If you say so."

"Let's not talk about her."

His eyes were still focused on the ceiling, looking at Elizabeth, her childhood friend from so long ago. She couldn't see the dead teenager at all.

"She mad?" Lulabelle asked.

"She loves you. It's why she stays around... floating from room to room... following you."

Lulabelle pulled his chin toward her.

"Don't look. Please."

Erik slipped his tongue in her mouth. A knock at the door interrupted them.

"Lulabelle, sorry to disturb you and your Mister, but I need this room," Tweety Pie squeaked out.

"Give me a minute."

Lulabelle peeled the rubber from Erik's dick and tossed it inside some tissue and chucked it out of the window into a well-placed bucket outside.

"You ruined my panties," she scolded as she jumped up to rinse her privates and stomach in lavender water at a large basin sitting on a maple console table.

She dried her folds and fixed her bra back around her breasts.

"Don't need 'em, I'll be back inside of you soon enough," he said.

Pulling her dress back on, Lulabelle tried to fix her hair and make-up in a mirror.

"You look fine," he said zipping his pants.

Erik picked up his switchblade and opened the door.

Tweety Pie had a new man with her, a handsome young soldier with lust in his eyes.

"Pardon us," Erik said as he guided Lulabelle back to the juke joint.

Lulabelle sat on Erik's lap as he joked with some patrons and slammed back shots of moonshine. She fed him cornbread and pieces of chicken bites with her fingers, and occasionally she would bounce on his hardness that rested against her backside. He tortured her clit with occasional strokes under her dress, but he wouldn't let her cum. That would happen later when he was ready to plunder her pussy once more. Tradition held that he would fuck her at least four more times before he disappeared until the next new moon in the future. She sat on that hard meat all hot and bothered knowing he was going to be cruel by plucking at her bud and sticking his tongue in her ear all night. She watched him dance with a few women and flirt while she checked on her women out back and collected her money, stuffing it in her bra.

Erik was a little too handsy with a couple of fancy ladies and she had to check him. He'd become contentious then, argued with her until she argued him down threatening to cut his balls off if he cheated on her. If she pushed him, just a little too hard, his neck would move in a hostile way that put her in her place and made her drip down her thighs. He liked her mouthy and jealous, but not too jealous if he caught her rubbing her ass against some other patron to provoke him. He'd spank her hard and tell her about herself until she stopped being bratty and soothed his ego. That was his way every time he came to the juke. Arrogant. Loud. Threatening other men who got too close to her, then all seductive when he needed her loving once more.

When no one was looking, Erik unzipped his pants, pulled out his dick and slid her on top of it raw at their private table. Her dress covered the action, and he lifted her up and down.

"You bet not cum," he ordered with harsh breath.

"I won't, I promise," she insisted with clenched teeth.

She was snug on his dick, and the friction was too much to bear. She clutched onto his knees and leaned forward, dropping her weight on his thighs. The rhythm was perfect until a slender man as tall as a Tupelo crept over to their table and sat down. He didn't seem concerned that he was witnessing a woman getting fucked within an inch of her life in the midst of her own rowdy and lascivious establishment.

The man's face was long, and he had long teeth... and long fingers... and long legs... and a long tongue that lolled around in his mouth. He had skin the color of a soft sunset and one big eye in the center of his face. The music and dancing slowed all around her, and all she could see and hear was the long man with his long deep breaths.

"Lulabelle... Lulabelle..." the slender man said, and the voice that spoke her namesake was not pleasant and inviting like Erik's. It was sinister. Conniving. Filthy to her ears.

Erik thrust up into her walls, and she gasped. The slender man smiled with his long teeth, and his one big black eye blinked and Lulabelle fell forward and down into a vortex of hideous darkness until she landed on soft grass in front of the crossroads that led into the dark woods near her juke joint.

"Lulabelle, hurry up! If we don't go now, we'll chicken out!"

Elizabeth ran ahead of her. Dear sweet Elizabeth, eighteen and glowing with a gorgeous figure and good hair, and the good sense to know that Itta Bena was to be left behind. They were going to New York to become showgirls in Harlem, leaving all that country backwoods shit living behind. No sharecropping or cleaning after white folks for them. They were young. Beautiful. Full of life and ready to see the world. That meant crossing through the woods at the old dusty crossroad just as the sun was setting. The last train outta town was due in an hour. Going through the woods was the fastest route to a new life.

But then the slender man came. The Plat Eye. The Haint that haunted the trees and lingered in the darkness deep inside the woods.

Lulabelle, full of eighteen-year-old spunk, dropped her heavy suitcase and pulled Elizabeth back with a hard tug on her arm.

"Dontcha see him, girl?" Lulabelle shouted.

"Oh, he's just another traveler headed outta here too, pick up your suitcase-"

"It's the Plat Eye. You don't see its face. The one eye? The long teeth?"

"You so silly girl! Look at him... just a man tryna run like us."

"No!"

Elizabeth dropped her suitcase and stood with arms all akimbo.

"If you don't wanna go, then say that, Lulabelle."

"You don't see that monster right there?!" she shrieked, and it startled Elizabeth.

The Plat Eye smirked.

"Fine, stay here then you big baby. Hey, Mister, wait up!"

"Elizabeth!"

An arm grabbed Lulabelle's elbow stopping her from running after her friend.

"Don't move, gal."

The voice didn't have Mississippi in it. It was low country and slower than cold molasses. South Carolina lived in it.

"She done made her choice and if you move one inch, I can't protect you."

Lulabelle didn't turn to look at the stranger. His words were wise, and she did as she was told.

"Elizabeth! Come back!"

"It's too late, Lulabelle."

"How you know my name?"

"I've seen you 'round here before with your friend."

She tried to turn around, but firm hands held her shoulders in place.

"Don't hurt me, Mister."

"Nah, I wouldn't do nothin' like that."

The Plat Eye grew taller almost reaching the height of the nearest tree.

"She can't see what it is?"

"She see what she wanna see."

The thing that was as tall as a Tupelo bent down and opened its tall mouth and Elizabeth stepped into the dark maw...

Lulabelle gasped and her thighs sensed the strong muscles of Erik's legs holding her up once more. He fucked her still, hitting her walls harder. His hands gripped her breasts as he grunted and rolled her nipples with agile fingers. The slender man of her past smiled, his greasy lips splitting wide as he was long. That single eye a tainted monstrosity to behold on its face.

The juke joint partied on, and men filed out through the side door to pay their money for an extra good time with her girls. The Plat Eye reached out for Lulabelle's arm and Erik slammed his switchblade down on the table.

"Nah, haint. This one here belongs to me."

The Plat Eye blinked that Cyclops eye in shock and its mouth fell open.

"Should've known you'd be around here," The Plat Eye grumbled sitting back in his chair.

A clammy wetness dampened Lulabelle's neck. Memory boomeranged back into her chest. The low country voice. The strong hands that held her waist so that he could rut into her pussy.

Lulabelle turned her head and the glint from Erik's gold teeth became a glowing source of ethereal light. The full lips and bright white teeth still looked human but the reverb of hidden power sat under the guttural rasp of his voice.

The man from the Crossroads.

The one who stopped her from entering the throat of the Plat Eye and turning into a floating haint that lived in the ceiling like Elizabeth.

The Geechee Man.

"Ya don't play fair," The Plat Eye grumbled again.

"And?" Erik said.

Erik's firm hands skated up her sides and rested on her shoulders. Lulabelle's pussy squelched on his dick all rude and loud. Plat Eye licked his fleshy lips.

"This here the one I wanted. Not that other one—"

Lulabelle snatched up Erik's switchblade and jumped up from his lap. Her pussy throbbed from being removed from his erection. She held the open switchblade against his throat. Why couldn't anyone else in her juke joint see or hear what was happening?

She knew the stories. All kinds of frightening things could be met at a crossroads. And if the Crossroads Man himself showed up—

"Put that down, Lula. It's not a toy to be played with," Erik said zipping up his pants.

The Plat Eye leaned forward and shot his arm out to grab her, but Erik was quicker. He snatched the switchblade back faster from her grip than she could blink, and he slashed the creature's arm. Black festering ooze seeped from the wound and sizzled as it splashed on the table burning holes through the wood.

"Give her to me," the Plat Eye demanded.

Erik stood up and straightened his tie.

"Nigga you ain't getting shit but an ass kicking if you keep playing with me. I told you already. This one is mine. Get on about yourself before I send you on your way to a very bad place."

"There are rules!"

The Plat Eye leapt to his feet and towered over Erik. Not by much though.

"I make the rules," Erik said.

An arrogant chuckle tumbled out of the Plat Eye's mouth. He gripped the lapels of his suit and blinked that one beastly eye. His open wound continued to drip ruining her good table.

"My man," The Plat Eye said and held up his long fingers to placate Erik.

The creature slid out from the juke joint with no one the wiser. Erik turned to face her and Lulabelle jumped away from him.

"Stay back!"

"Lula... c'mon, baby. I've been coming to you ever since you opened this place. Have I ever harmed you once?"

"No."

"I just give you good lovin' when I can."

"That's why you can't be with me all the time?"

He nodded.

"I guard the way, and I open it up. Everywhere."

Lulabelle ran to the bar and made Eva pour her the biggest glass of moonshine possible. She gulped it down. Erik sauntered over to her.

"Don't be scared of me, Lula."

"What are you... really?"

"Your man."

"You ain't no man."

"I'm no demon if that's what you're worried about."

"God forbid if I'd been fucking the devil."

"I'm no devil, girl. Far from it."

He stroked her face.

"Let's go to the back. I need you... right now."

His voice made her insides tingle. This was their time. But how could she go back and make love to... to a what? Spirit? Guardian angel? Supernatural being?

He never did hurt her. And never once did she suspect that he wasn't anything other than a switchblade carrying Geechie that made her backbone slip.

"Are there others?" she asked, "Others like you around here?"

"Always. But you don't have to worry about nothin'. You got me. No one fucks with me.'

"How come you didn't save Elizabeth?"

"She didn't want to be saved."

"But I loved her. She was my best friend. Why would she leave me?"

"She's still here. She'll never leave until you chase her on."

"Is she happy?"

"Like I told you, she loves you. If you're happy, she's happy."

"God won't punish me for being with you, will he?"

"She won't. I promise."

"What about me selling pussy and a little dick?"

"Not even on her mind."

Lulabelle smiled.

Erik slinked over to her and rubbed his big body against hers and nudged his bearded face against her soft cheek.

"How many women have you seduced over the years?"

"You my favorite."

"That didn't answer my question.," she said putting a hand on her hip.

"You wanna argue or get some more dick, gal?"

Lulabelle checked the room. Her patrons were happy and not having a care in the world. Eva cooked more food, Honey Boy kept the girls refreshed in their loving rooms, and the Harvest moon spilled in through the window behind the juke band.

Moonlight bathed Erik's face and he slid his hand under her dress again.

"Daddy needs to take care of you... oh see now, my sweet jewel is all plump again."

He removed his hand and licked his fingers sticky with her essence. She rubbed on his crotch and he gifted her with a hard bulge. His eyes drifted up to the ceiling.

"Elizabeth wants you to get all this," he said grinding against her.

"Can you tell her that I miss her? That I love her?"

"She already knows."

Erik lifted her up and carried her across the rickety bridge and back to the soft lumpy bed.

That's their story, and I ain't tellin' it twice. Lula and her Geechee Man played nice for a long, long time. I keep watch and makes sure that stays true. Until we meet again on the next new moon...

Part 2 "There's Some Whores in This House" HERE.

A.N:

This was a birthday story I wrote for @soufcakmistress back in 2021.

[hellishjoel]

to the friends I've never met

I know I'm a little late - but I don't think there's ever a wrong time to tell all the friends I've made on here that I appreciate them.

Through tumblr, I have created the most beautiful friendships through a stupid silly sweet actor named Pedro Pascal and I never thought I would jump into the DAUNTING atmosphere that was writing for such beloved characters - but god am I glad that I did.

So this is an open letter to the friends on here that I've never met. I know that if we were all closer and got to hangout, that this would be our lives - goofy movie nights, picnics where we share food and stories, morning coffees and brunches on the weekend, and days that make me grateful for having you around. But unfortunately, this is the hard part of Tumblr, being so far away - states, countries, entire fricken continents. but that doesn't make my love for ya'll any less strong!

Thank you for being my friend, for letting me yell things in your general direction over tumblr and discord messages, I'm seriously eternally grateful. This goes out to all my guys, gals, and non-binary pals that create wonderful, beyond beautiful content for everyone on here to enjoy <3

thank you as well to @swiftispunk and @joelscruff for creating this choatic concoction: @swiftiscruff and letting us remember that though this community can have its ups and downs, we lean on each other to appreciate the good <3 please check out more from the swiftiscruff gift exchange to see beautiful individual works!

I love you all, okay?

I'm gonna tag some friends, though there's many many more: @thetriumphantpanda @undercoverpena @mrsmando @swiftispunk

@perotovar @pedgito @sweetercalypso @chronically-ghosted @joelsversion

@morning-star-joy @pr0ximamidnight @kiwisbell @cavillscurls @wildemaven

@javiscigarette @beskarandblasters @bearsbeetsbeskar @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

[nikethestatue]

A Match Baked in Heaven

Part Vl

My Mind is Ramblin’

A pair of gorgeous deep green eyes looked back at Azriel. Sharp, perfect features so delicate and precise they might have been etched in marble or glass. Lustrous dark skin. Full lips. Silky black hair.

“Who the fook is this?” Azriel muttered under his breath, looking at the photo. 

“Nuala Raith,” Elain said, “your first match.”

“Wow!” was all he could manage. “For real?”

“I take it you find her attractive?” 

“You take it correctly. Freakin’ gorge she is!”

“Well, I am glad that you are pleased, Mr. Night,” Elain said, her voice a bit dry.

He took the photo, looking at it closely.

“Are all the birds that you match look like that? ‘Cause then I might be very interested in your matchmaking services,”

Elain folded her arms on her chest and looked at him, her face glum.

“Beauty is only skin deep,”

“It’s alright. I don’t mind getting deep into this beauty,” he mused.

Elain blushed as usual, and her expression soured, but she didn’t say anything.

“Can I see more?” he requested.

“More of what?”

“The gals you got!”

“No!”

“Why not?”

“This, this,” she was panting, outraged, “Mr. Night, this is not you Boomble!”

He frowned, “what?”

“Brumble? Trumble?”

“Are you having a stroke?” he queried, somewhat concerned and reached for her hand. She pulled it away.

“No. I am perfectly fine! Those sites, where people go to find matches.”

“Like match.com?”

“No, the other ones, where it’s based on looks! Trimble?”

“If you mean Tinder and Bumble,”

“Yes, those! This is exactly the opposite of that, Mr. Night!”

“Okay, okay!” he raised his hands, trying to placate her.

“No, it seems that you still don't understand the nature of my services–I am not peddling pretty women to lonely men. My services are based on compatibility, mutual interests, chemistry and not just looks!”

“Okay, will you relax?”

“I am relaxed!” she half-shouted.

“Then why is there steam coming out of your ears?”

“I am fine. But I find you exasperating!”

“Hmmm,” he looked at the photo again. “Seems like you got real mad when I commented on how pretty she is,” he noted.

“Don’t be ridiculous!” she argued, indignant.

“I am just making an observation,”

“It’s incorrect, your so-called observation. Of course I want you to find her attractive and I am glad that you did.”

“Yeah, okay,” he concurred reluctantly. 

“This is Nuala’s profile,” Elain handed him a sheet of paper.

“Oh, a footie lover,” he smiled to himself, as he read through it. “A swimmer too…AND a model? Overachiever much.”

Elain didn’t respond, letting him read.

“If you are interested,” she told him at last, “I will arrange it with her and provide you with her number, so you could decide on a date.

“Now, normally, if the date goes well, you go on a few more and if there is a relationship, I would bow out of the arrangement,”

Azriel threw a sharp look at her and immediately said, “but,”

“But my arrangement with you, and the way that Cassian negotiated it, is that it must result in marriage. Therefore, I will be in the loop regarding how the relationship progresses. If things don’t work out between the two of you, then we’ll move on to the next match.”

“Hold on, how much am I paying you for this?” he chortled.

“£30,000,”

“Not cheap, are you,” 

“That’s just for the matches. If you get married, it’s £75,000.”

“Jesus fuck! And my accountant approved this shite? Highway robbery is what it is,” he complained dramatically. 

“You’ll be getting £230 million in return. I think you’ll be fine. Besides, I know how much you are worth,” she notified him with a dismissive shrug.

“Oh you do, don’t you?”

“You aren’t exactly poor.”

“I can get my own wife, for free and not blow 75,000 quid on you,” he grumbled.

“Ha! Right…you just admitted not never having been in a relationship. I am highly doubting that you can find yourself a wife in 4 months considering your record.”

“Anything else you know about me? My sperm count?”

“Not my concern,” she said dismissively. “You aren’t having children with me, so why would I care?”

“Maybe Nuala cares.”

“That’s between you and Nuala.”

“Fine. Set it up,” he told her.

Elain nodded and gave him the folder. Then she stuffed her IPad into her bag and said, 

“Baby boy, let’s go.”

“Okay,” Azriel nodded and called for the bill.

She looked up at him and grinned.

“Shit,” he hissed.

She dissolved in laughter.

“I am not the ‘baby boy’ am I?”

“If you’d like to be the ‘baby boy’, I suppose you could be…”

“How about ‘handsome’?” he proposed.

“No, Mr. Night. I am not calling you ‘handsome’ and we are not doing pet names.”

“Alright beautiful, as you wish,” he agreed calmly.

“Mr. Night,”

“Yes, gorgeous girl?”

“I am this close to firing you as a client,” she clicked her nails.

“Oh, you can do that?” he asked curiously. “Can I fire you?”

“If you wish to, then yes.”

“Something to keep in mind then. Alright, beautiful, get the pugster and we are outta here.”

Elain laughed softly, whispering, ‘the pugster’. Then she reached into her purse and took out a hundred pounds, laying on the table.

“What the fuck is this?” Azriel grunted.

“For the tea,”

“Put that away,” he ordered harshly.

“Why? I,”

“You’ll put your money away,” he interrupted her. “I am a man and I pay when you are with me.”

“Is this a man and a woman thing?”

“It’s my thing. And it’s not negotiable. I am a man and you will do as I say in this matter.”

Elain’s mouth popped open at his tone, but his glare forced her back into her chair and she took the money back nevertheless. She glimpsed the savage that was hiding behind Azriel’s handsome veneer. The creature that grew up on the streets, the creature whose knuckles were permanently scarred from fights, the one who used to resolve his issues with violence, the one who was unyielding and firm in his beliefs.

“Fine, if you want to be macho, go ahead.”

“Oh, you got that right–I want to be macho. Listen, Ms. Archeron–I find it cute when you are all bossy and demanding with me. I will never demean or diminish the work that you do, even if I find it bloody weird. I respect you. Your tenacity, your belief in love and happy endings, as ridiculous as it is, your intelligence–they are very admirable. 

“But for the record, you ought to always remember that I am a male beast that cannot be tamed. And I am a man, which means I will act like a man in all situations that require me to act according to my sex and my values.”

He got up and called out ‘Pinky, let’s go’ at which Piglet immediately stopped his modelling show and trotted after Azriel. Everyone groaned and snapped final photos of the dog, while Elain belted her coat. Azriel extended his hand to her, and while she didn’t know why, but she took it.

“Thank you for the tea,” she told him when they were in the lift.

“My pleasure. Let me message Dev so he could drive the car around.”

“We could walk for a bit,” she proposed quietly. “We need to walk off the pastries and the sandwiches.”

Azriel laughed and said, “How can I refuse my favourite matchmaker?”

-

It was dusk by the time they came out of the Shard. The crowds swell around pubs, especially because the evening was clear and crisp, and the darkening skies were almost cloudless. A breeze came off the river and autumnal browns, oranges and yellows were in full colourful swing. As they walked, Azriel’s huge warm hand wrapped around Elain’s, he kept looking at Halloween decorations around them, and criticised them, telling her that ‘theirs’ were better. Elain couldn’t help but smile at his critique, because he was so wholeheartedly aggressive about it.

The driver, Dev, was going to meet them a few streets down, by the river, and Elain wasn’t in a hurry. It was cute watching Azriel hold Piglet’s lead, as the dog acquainted himself with the new surroundings, eager to explore further.

“Have you thought about what you’d do with your 230 million?” Elain wondered. “It’s a big sum–you could do many different things,”

“Yeah, I’ve thought about it,” Azriel nodded. “I think I will…”

It all happened instantly. But also in slow motion.

Elain was shoved and almost spun around, thrown into Azriel’s chest.

Her bag was torn off her shoulder and a young lad in trainers and a hoodie sprinted ahead of them, clutching the bag to his chest.

He was young, probably a teen, fast and agile, running fast, pushing like an angry bull through the crowds of people. 

It was logical that Elain was a target–she was walking in her high-heeled booties, her skirt, with her large bag and her pug. She made a perfect victim…only the lad underestimated who she was with. 

“What the fuck!?” Azriel bellowed, bounding over Pinky and giving chase. Not to be outdone, the dog ripped his lead out of Azriel’s hand and dashed after Azriel, the lead dragging behind him. 

The mugger looked over his shoulder, his eyes widening, as he realised that he was being pursued by a huge man and a dog. It didn’t matter that the man was wearing leather shoes and a suit–his long legs ate up the road ahead of him with incredible speed. 

The kid was fucking fast.

He ran like Azriel used to run when he was a teen mugger himself. Azriel recognised the patterns, the parcour-like ability to skirt around pedestrians, jump over any obstacle, propel himself against walls, but Azriel was an athlete and a runner with over twenty years of experience. The kid was good, but Azriel was bigger and had longer legs and extreme stamina. He was a fast fucker.

“Pinky, what the fuck are you doing?!” Azriel gasped in shock, seeing how the three-legged pug was keeping up and was running alongside him.

The pug only glanced at him sideways and continued running.

People were yelping and crying out in alarm, falling by the wayside, and allowing the chase to continue, and that gave Azriel the opportunity to gain on the kid. 

“Oh ya little cunt, stop!” he shouted, seeing as the mugger was panting loudly now, his face dripping in sweat, the thick hoodie probably making him extra uncomfortable. “Just,” Azriel leapt ahead, “fucking,” and tackled the kid on the ground, “stop!”

His fist connected with the lad’s sweaty red face and he punched him hard. 

His knuckles sang back in pain, but he punched him again, making his man’s head snap to the side. The kid howled, and Azriel slapped him hard, though he no longer used his fist.

“Who the fuck do you think you are grabbing my girl’s purse, you arsehole?” he ripped the purse out of the mugger’s clutching arms, and slapped him again.

“Get off me!” 

“Get off you? I am gonna break your jaw, you bloody fool!”

“Awww, come on, mate! Stop it!” the kid cried out like a little bitch, crying and spitting. “Stop hitting me!”

“You don’t know what hitting is,”

At that moment, Pinky bounded forth, and landed on top of the unfortunate bloke, his sharp little teeth sinking into the sleeve, and then into the arm that stole Elain’s bag.

“AAAAAAAAAAAaahhh!” the guy screamed loudly, while the pug latched onto his arm, and wouldn’t let go.

“Is it rabid?!!” he screamed in terror.

“You are fucking rabid, you douchebag. Don’t call my dog rabid!”

“Get it off me!” He tried to shake Piglet off, but without success.

“Be grateful he isn’t biting your cock,” Azriel said calmly, rising to his feet.

“You got the bag back, fucking let me go!” the guy shouted.

“Oh, you think I shouldn’t call the cops?” Azriel taunted, as he wiped his brow.

Meanwhile, Piglet finally let go of the arm, but now he was going into a full body shake, jumping and bouncing, snarling and snapping his teeth, his whole demeanour definitely saying Oh, you want to fight me? Come on you punk ass bitch! Come on and fight me! Yolo!

“Alright, Rambo, let’s go,” Azriel picked the dog up, “let’s go to Ellie. She is worried about us. Let’s go get our girl.”

“Fuck, it’s you!” the kid suddenly exclaimed, his eyes wide. “I knew it! It’s you!”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s me,” Azriel muttered. “Seriously, mate, if you are about to make a scene, I will fucking break my leg on your arse,”

“But it’s you!!” smearing blood all over his face, the wannabe mugger kept pointing at Azriel, star struck at once. “I can’t believe it’s you! None of my mates will believe this!”

“Well, boo-freakin’-hoo. I don’t care,”

“Can I have an autograph?!” the guy asked excitedly.

“Are you serious  right now?” Azriel raised his brow at him. Pinky was still trying to escape his grip and go back to savaging the mugger, so Azriel held on tight, pressing the pug to his chest.

“I am telling you this dog is rabid!” the guy shook his finger at Pinky, which was greeted by more teeth snapping. 

“Don’t rile him up!” Azriel ordered. “My woman is gonna have my head if something happens to him.”

“Sign something for me,” the guy whined.

“Oh fuck off! I am not signing shit for you. Be grateful I am not calling the cops. Also, shouldn’t have stolen my girl’s purse,” he shrugged. 

“I didn’t know she was your girl!” the mugger cried defensively.

“Sucks to be you. Piss off. I think some of these people are definitely calling the cops on you.”

“Sure no chance of an autograph?”

“You have about three seconds before my fist reacquaints with your face,” Azriel warned.

In the distance, they heard the frantic slapping of feet and Elain’s fast running, as she cried mournfully ‘Piglet! Piglet! Mr. Night!’

Piglet surged in Azriel’s arms and Azriel released him at last, as the pug catapulted towards Elain. 

In the next minute or so, Azriel saw her turning the corner, Piglet under her arm, running wildly towards him, her shoes in her hand. 

“Hey beautiful,” Azriel opened his arms to her and she flew into him so hard, he stumbled back.

“Oh my god, oh my god,” she kept muttering, her hands exploring his body feverishly, her face pale and eyes terrified. “Are you okay? Tell me you are okay!”

“I am okay,” he assured her gently, stroking her head, “I am just fine. Here is your purse,”

He handed her the purse and she rolled her eyes, crying, “it’s not worth it! It’s just an IPad! Some money…I don’t care…I don’t care about any of this!”

“Well, no one steals your stuff on my watch,” smiled down at her, drawing his knuckles over her cheek.

“What if he had a knife!” she exclaimed.

“Well, then he is fucking dumber than he looked, because it’s pointless to bring a knife to a fist fight with me,” Azriel smiled.

“What are you talking about?! He could’ve hurt you!”

“Lassie, I was in a gang. I can handle myself and some lad who snatches purses isn’t exactly a threat.”

“You run really fast,” she murmured in admiration, her cheeks slightly pink, her hair wild and undone. She shifted on her bare feet and Azriel tsked, shaking his head.

“Are you out of your mind, beautiful? What are you doing?”

“I had to,” she mumbled, “I had to run…I didn’t know what happened to you��to Piglet. I…don’t know…” she added quietly. “I couldn’t…if something happened to you…”

“Nothing happened to me,” he wrapped his arm around her waist and lifted her off the ground.

People started applauding. Some snapped photos. The fighting pug in a Burberry jacket also got a lot of attention. He didn’t mind it. He rubbed against Azriel’s ankles, whimpering and snorting softly, happy that his Elain was okay.

“You can put me down,” Elain whispered, blushing and squirming against Azriel’s broad chest and within the circle of his iron arms. Goodness gracious! He had a lot of muscles. He was so big…with so many muscles…so firm…so heavy…she loved his weight…how solid he was…

“Naw, pretty matchmaker, I am hauling your plump arse all the way to the car, so we don’t get into any more misadventures.”

“All the way to the car?!” 

“All the way–you are not walking barefoot here, and you were stupid enough to take your shoes off. Were you gonna beat him to death with your shoe?” he teased, adjusting her in his arms, and wrapping Pinky’s lead around his wrist. These two could not be trusted with their own safety. They had the same amount of common sense–and it wasn’t much.

“I couldn’t run in them!” she hissed. “But I can put them back on.”

“Those are nice expensive shoes and you aren’t putting your gross dirty feet in them.”

“Ohmygod, I don’t have gross, dirty feet!”

“You literally just ran barefoot for three-four blocks on the streets of London. You need to be hosed down.”

“You are so mean and nasty!”

“And yet, here I am carrying you in my arms to the car.”

People stared at them, at Elain’s shoeless feet, and her torn hose, and watched the two of them with surprise, while many probably recognised him, but Azriel walked quickly, before anyone could stop him.

Elain was lighter than he thought she would feel, but she was also soft and cuddly, like a stuffed animal. Compared to the women he usually dealt with, it was obvious that she’d never passed an apple crumble that she didn’t love, but he didn’t mind that at all. In fact, he pressed his face into her hair and inhaled. She shifted in his arms, feeling his lips on her head, but he didn’t say anything and just pressed her closer. 

Why did she attract him?

WHY?

There was nothing in her that should’ve appealed to him whatsoever, and yet, here he was, drawn to her in some inexplicable way. He didn’t even like her. He wanted to make fun of her. She was irritating. She was snooty. Most of the time, she drove him crazy. She had a bad attitude. She wasn’t impressed by his fame and accomplishments. He was pretty sure that she didn’t even like him much. Yet, here he was, fighting the desire to message Dev and tell him to drive around for a bit, so he could continue carrying her in his arms.

“Mr. Night,” she said after a long stretch of silence, where she just burrowed herself into his chest.

“Yes, beautiful?”

She cleared her throat in warning, and he corrected himself, “Ms. Archeron?”

“Please promise me that you are not going to make stupid, impulsive decisions anymore. Especially not in my name,”

“What’s the fun in that then?” he chuckled.

“I am serious. You have a goal–you need to be married by March, and that’s what we’ll concentrate on. You cannot risk yourself or your well-being for silly things. You need to be in tiptop shape mentally and physically. So, promise!” she insisted.

“Naw, darlin’. I ain't promising nothing like that.”

“Why?”

“‘Cause things change and I don’t know what’s gonna happen. What if I fall for you? What if you fall for me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous!”

He shrugged and continued,

“Also, there is a matter of Pinky,”

“What about him?” Elain demanded, immediately alarmed.

“We need to figure out some type of joint custody agreement, because,”

“Excuse me?!!” she fumed. “He is mine! Why are you even interfering?!”

“Sorry, darlin’, but Pink likes me. I am the male figure in his life. We need each other,”

“He doesn’t need you!”

“Well, I beg to differ, but also, he needs me.”

“Forget it. After this is over, you can’t see him.”

“Pfff, right! Are you gonna stop me?” he challenged, pretending like he was about to drop her and she screamed and threw her arms around his neck, while he threw his head back and laughed.

“You bloody wanker! What the hell?!” Elain cried out, slapping his shoulder. 

“Can’t argue with facts. I am a wanker,”

“Eww I don’t want to know!” she even attempted to cover her ears, but he noticed her hot, flaming cheeks, which was his favourite way of hers to be. 

“Been going through a bit of a dry spell, if you know what I mean,” he grinned. “Where should I take Nuala?” he then pondered.

“I am not giving you dating advice!” she ground out. “Normal people go out for drinks.”

“And abnormal people?”

“You’d know more about that.”

Azriel slowed down and Elain turned her head and saw Dev standing next to the Bentley. The chauffeur opened the door and smirked,

“Rough tea?” he asked, seeing as Elain was being carried and missing her shoes.

“You could say that,” Azriel nodded, while Piglet made his way inside the car and settled by the window. “My lass here was mugged and then she murdered the mugger with her shoe.”

“Ahh,” Dev didn’t seem surprised.

“I did not!!!” Elain screeched.

Dev smiled cryptically and said, “it’s alright, miss, I get it. Plausible deniability and all.”

“Seriously, you are going to throw some legal jargon at me?” Elain asked incredulously.

Azriel deposited her inside the car and slapped Dev’s shoulder.

“It’s alright, love. Dev is an old mate of mine. We grew up in the same place. He knows a lot about the law. And how to avoid any trouble with it.”

“Good to know,” Elain muttered and moved in her seat closer to Piglet.

Azriel slid in beside her and Dev took his seat behind the wheel. The car took off towards the bridge and Elain looked out the window, gently stroking Piglet’s back. 

He was her good boy today. So brave. So fearless. Sometimes she wondered if anyone else loved her as much as Piglet loved her.

Azriel looked at Elain and her beautiful, dishevelled hair, her gloriously gorgeous face, and when his eyes dipped lower, the question that he'd been asking himself the whole day was answered.

Her skirt had ridden up on her soft thigh, and in the slit of the trench, he saw that she was indeed wearing stockings. The lacy top wrapped around the pale skin of her thigh and was held up by a garter belt. It was gorgeous. The whole thing was gorgeous–her skin, the soft fat of her thigh, the nude lace, the fishnet of the stocking, and Azriel couldn't tear his eyes away from her. For the first time since he met her, he found himself wanting to touch her. Like that. He wondered what she’d taste like: her lips, her skin, her nipples. What she’d look like naked. What she’d sound like when he entered her. How her lovely face would flush. What her moans would be like as she came all over his cock.

Nope.

Absolutely not.

She was the matchmaker. And he wasn’t going there. Ever. Never.

So he smiled at her and then gently covered her exposed leg with her skirt and her coat.

Enough.

Enough now.

-

It was Sunday morning. Piglet clawed at the bed, whining softly.

“It’s too early!” Elain moaned heavily, to which Piglet responded with a decisive bark.

“Aw, no barking!” she ordered, rubbing her temples. 

Damn Halloween party.

Damn dog, who knew no peace.

Piglet clawled at the bedsheets, demanding that she wake up, give him food, cuddles, put a bow on him, take him out and in general, devote as much of her as possible to him. 

“Piglet, not now,” she barked back at him.

He growled and butted the bed, and Elain threatened, “I swear, I will take you to the pound!”

At that, he gasped in shock and stepped back, before dramatically hanging his big round head and starting sniffing and crying pug tears. Then, he slowly turned around and just as slowly walked to the door, all the while throwing pensive looks over his shoulder, to make sure that she was watching him and that she was feeling bad. 

His bed was located at the top of the staircase, in an alcove, where he slept, keeping vigilant of any intruders, ready to attack, while having Elain nearby. She didn’t let him sleep in her bedroom, because…well, he was a pug, and he made a lot of pug noises. He snorted, he grunted, he panted. He farted. He liked to talk to himself in his yippy pug language. Sometimes he freaked out over nothing, and ran in circles just for the fun of it. In general though, he didn’t mind having his own space, and he liked his domain and his plush dog bed. But the mornings belonged to him and he needed attention.

How he knew what the ‘pound’ was, Elain had no idea, but that was the greatest threat that she could throw his way. Even the mere mention of it made him act like she actually took him there and left him. 

“Pig-let,” she called him.

He didn’t respond.

“I am sorry. Come back.”

She knew that he needed a good fifteen minutes to calm down and live down the insult.

Even though she didn’t want to, she finally got up and went to shower.

The party at Feyre’s last night was pretty wild. It was mostly the bohemian crowd that Feyre hung out with–artists, musicians, tattoo artists, performers, even people who performed in sex clubs. Feyre told Elain in no uncertain terms that she wasn’t permitted to wear pearls. Sometimes, her sister had the most bizarre notions about what and who Elain was. Kind of like Mr. Night.

And just like that, he popped into her head. 

Why? Because he did chivalrous things like fight a mugger, or hold doors for her, or carry her in his arms, or keep her freezing feet in his hands, while they were in the car? Or was it because he did oddly romantic things too, like taking her out for tea, and gently talking her through her sadness and staying on the phone with her? Or was it that checked in with her every night via text, to make sure that she was home and safe? 

He was a pest. A worm that burrowed his way into her brain: a song that she couldn’t turn off. No one else affected her like this! Never before. Certainly none of her clients. And that’s what he was–her client. Even thinking about him outside of their business arrangement was unprofessional. 

And yet, she loved the feeling of elation every time her phone dinged and a message came from him. She loved that he started following Piglet’s IG page, under the handle of FootieFreak–she just knew that it was him, because who else could it be? He sent her random, rambling messages. They were sincere, but she knew that writing wasn’t his forte. He made adorable grammatical mistakes and his writing style felt strained, as if he wasn’t good at expressing himself, let alone expressing himself in writing. But it also felt like he was making an effort, just for her. He also sent her long and pointless stats about football, and profanity-filled rants about training or players. Elain found it cute.

And therein lay the problem.

She was developing an attachment to this man.

His uncouth, brash, but fun and funny, uncontrolled manner was unusual, but also felt fresh and endearing, and he always kept her amused and entertained. He wasn’t exactly hard to look at either. The man was criminally good looking. Wild and untamed and savage. He had no finesse, wasn’t particularly well educated, or polished, but he also had charisma, peculiar confidence and a wild sort of attitude that could be considered elegantly feral. 

And Elain hated that she was attracted to him. Because she knew that it could never go anywhere. It frustrated her, just like he frustrated her, but what was she supposed to do? She couldn’t just put an end to her attraction to him, it wasn’t exactly like corking a bottle, but she supposed that she could not act on it. She was a professional, after all, and she’d just grin and bear it, just like she always did.

Elain, the peacemaker. Elain, the one who was soft and smiley and gentle. Elain, the matchmaker. Elain, the flower grower. Elain, the plump, old-fashioned, awkward beauty who never knew how to play all her assets up. 

Whatever. Life was for others. At least she had Piglet.

She wrapped herself in a terry robe and tied a towel around her hair. Grabbing her phone, she went to the landing, and saw Piglet burying his face in his bed, his ass turned towards her, still holding a grudge. He didn’t turn when she called him, and she had to grovel and ask her pug for forgiveness. He was still pouting when she simply went over and picked him up, and then went downstairs, while he attempted to snap at her. 

She let him out in the garden, and he did his business quickly, because it was cold and drizzling, and then he was ready for breakfast. To appease him, Elain cooked some ham especially for him, and sliced up an apple and a carrot–his favourites–and considered making his all time beloved meal of chicken and rice for dinner. She scrambled eggs for both of them, though Piglet’s didn’t have any salt or pepper or spices, but he was fine with that. ‘The pound’ was soon forgotten, because he was busy eating and having a good time.

She sat at the table that overlooked her pretty garden and sipped her coffee.

The thing was that she’s been agonising over this since yesterday. She fingered her phone, contemplating. It didn’t mean anything. It didn’t mean anything if she sent it to him. It was just a photo. It was just a fun photo of her in her costume. Why couldn’t she send it to him? Yeah, technically, she’d never send the photo to any of her other clients–obviously–but was Azriel Night one of her usual clients? No. She didn’t go to tea with her clients. And Piglet didn’t jump on them either. Piglet typically avoided her clients and preferred to sit in his lounge and nap or watch videos. But Piglet wouldn’t leave Azriel’s side.

And that gave Elain her first brilliant idea.

She pulled up a photo from last night and sent it to Azriel, forbidding herself from any further thinking or doubting. She was just going to do it.

Piglet was a Piglet last night, she wrote.

And then she put the phone down, convincing herself that she didn’t care if Azriel responded.

The problem was that he responded very quickly and she grabbed the phone instantly, reading the response.

Beautiful, you have no imagination. You dressed a pug that you named Piglet as a pig.

Elain snorted. Of course he was going to critique her!

Well, I think it’s cute!!!!!

In a few moment he responded,

That’s a very aggressive usage of exclamation points. 

Tell me that he looks cute! She demanded.

😀

He looks cute, Azriel conceded. He is the cutest dog in London. He looks good in any costume.

That made Elain smile. He wasn’t wrong about that.

Can you show me what my favourite matchmaker was wearing for Halloween?

The unexpected request was straightforward. Bold.

No.

Come on, beautiful. You can do it. I know you want to.

Stop calling me that!!! And I don’t want to.

Yes you do. I bet you are proud of your costume.

She was. It was very daring, her costume.

Biting her lip, Elain gnawed on her thumb, as she looked through her photos. They looked good. Her costume was that of a sexy Little Red Riding Hood–she wore a very short pleated red skirt, black tights, kneehigh black boots and a bustier. She draped herself in a bright red cape and put on dramatic makeup with bright red lipstick and dark, smokey eyes. When she stepped into Feyre’s loft, Feyre barely recognised her. It was Piglet who was the giveaway. He bounded in in his pink piggy suit and Feyre almost smothered him to death with hugs. He actually began growling at her, and she had to give him a banana to placate him. He spent the rest of the evening dodging aggressive huggers and playing ‘the Pleading Pug’ card, when he saw someone holding cheese or sausages, before finally falling asleep under the table.

Elain sorted through the photos. Some were silly and taken out of context they would look odd, though she didn’t think that Azriel would care. You’d think she was a massive boozer, considering how she held some kind of drink in every shot. She did get a bit rowdy last night, but it was a good mix of people, and she was pretty relaxed. But she wondered throughout the evening what it would be like to have Azriel there. As her date. 

Her business phone dinged and she frowned. It was Sunday. Who the heck was ringing her on a Sunday morning?

*Nuala Wraith* 

Elain frowned, debating whether she should pick up, but eventually she did, though she was frowning. 

“Elain?”

“Good morning, Nuala. Is everything okay?”

Nuala wasn’t the type to ring on weekends.

“Yes, yes. I am sorry I am bothering you on a Sunday.”

“It’s alright,” Elain lied. “How can I help?”

Nuala’s voice sounded excited. It was like she was panting. 

“Azriel Night…” Nuala said breathlessly. 

“Yes…oh god, what did he do?” Elain winced to herself. Jesus. She didn’t even know where to begin thinking about what might have happened.

“This man,” Nuala continued. “Is perfect!!!” the last part came out as a snorty sort of squeal.

“I am sorry?” Elain winced again, this time in confusion.

“You’ve met him, right?” Nuala demanded.

“Well, yes, of course.”

“So did you not notice that this man looks like a god? He is brilliantly funny. I was laughing all night through!”

“Oh, you went on the date?”

“Yes! Two in fact.”

“Two dates?”

“We went on Friday–just drinks, but we stayed talking until closing time and then he drove me home and,”

A wave of heat suddenly flushed over the entirety of Elain’s body.

Hot, sweaty wave of embarrassment and dread.

What was Nuala about to tell her?! What if she was going to start talking about the incredible sex that she and Azriel had after their first date. What if she was going to go into gruesome details? Was she going to describe his…appendage?

“And he is just such a gent, you know. Dropped me off right at my doorstep,” Nuala kept going without taking a breath, “and…I was surprised, you know,”

“About what?”

“Well,” she laughed softly, somewhat shyly. “It’s…embarrassing, really…but I was definitely putting out signals, you know?”

“Oh,”

“Yeah. If he was keen, I was keen too. Is that bad?”

“No. You are adults,” Elain assured her feebly. “But…he, didn’t,”

“No, he didn’t pick up what I was putting down, if you catch my drift.”

“Yeah, I understand,” Elain confirmed through slightly gritted teeth. Why was she so irritated? Wasn’t this what she wanted? For Azriel and Nuala to find their matches and live happily ever after.

“I mean, from all the stories that I’d read about him in the Daily Mail back from 5-10 years ago, it seemed that he was Mr. Orgy,”

Elain blushed to herself.

He did have a reputation. She considered discussing it with him when they were at the Shard, but then she didn’t find it in herself to broach the subject. However, Nuala was correct–Azriel had a reputation for someone who had a chequered and questionable sexual history. Involved in an orgy was a fairly common comment to read in relation to him.

“But you went on a second date?” Elain confirmed.

“Yeah!” Nuala, normally composed and quiet, seemed very unlike herself. Giddy and jolly and hyper. 

“And the conversation was good?” Elain pressed.

“Oh yeah! It was so easy. We didn’t talk about anything serious, but it was lovely,”

Elain chuckled, “what, no talks about baby names and how many children he wants?”

Nuala paused, and even though Elain couldn't see her it seemed like she was perplexed by the comment.

“What do you mean? No, we haven't talked about children! He doesn’t strike me as someone who’s ever thought of baby names!” she laughed at the ludicrousness of the suggestions.

Elain laughed nervously, and quickly agreed, “No, no. I just thought that since it went so well…”

“No, no! We didn’t get that far. We talked about footie and stuff,”

“Haha,” Elain huffed, “were you subjected to one of his Chelsea related rants?! How horrid their defence is and how,”

“Oh, he talks about that?” Nuala seemed amused. “He was very complimentary of everything and everyone…”

Hmmm. Well, that was interesting. Was he just playing Mr. Nice Guy with Nuala? Or was he just dumping all his aggravation and hopes and dreams into Elain’s lap for some reason?

Excitedly, Nuala announced, “we are going on our third date on Tuesday!”

“You are? Moving quickly!”

“He is amazing. We went to this nice intimate Spanish tapas place in Maida Vale–the neighbourhood was kind of dodgy and I didn’t even know why he was taking me there, but then, the place was absolutely incredible. The owner cooked all our food to order!! Just him. No one else in the kitchen. The most adorable and cosy place. I have no idea how Azriel even knew about it, but I’ve never been on a date like that.”

“I am almost jealous,” Elain laughed a totally fake laugh. “It does sound incredible!”

“It was…we had fried sardines and chorizo stuffed dates, and two pitchers of Sangria!” she paused and then said, almost shyly,

“Honestly Elain, when you told me ‘Azriel Night’ I was doubtful. My first thought was–what is Elain thinking with this? But you…god, you know what you are doing, don’t you? That’s why you are the Rolls Roys of matchmakers and it’s so difficult to even get an appointment with you. You just…know. I am sorry I doubted you.”

The words warmed Elain’s heart. Regardless of her personal feelings on the matter, she was proud of what she did. Of the 80+ couples who found their happiness with each other because of her. In fact, she did know what she was doing. She knew how to match people, and what made them tick. How they fit. She’s had this gift since she was a little girl, and she was lucky to put it in motion when she was in Uni, and then, actually carve a career for herself doing what she loved. A lucrative career, where she was able to make quite a comfortable living for herself, while bringing joy to others. 

But now, she had an almost pathological need to know. So she asked,

“So the Spanish restaurant went well, since you two are already almost on date three. Anything else?”

Nuala laughed.

“Did we do it?”

“Oh my, Nuala, I would never pry like that!” Elain gasped. She was definitely prying though.

“No, I know, Elain! Sorry. I am just joking. We didn’t though. Not so much as a kiss,” Nuala sighed. “I mean, he took me home and then he kissed me on the cheek. Who even kisses on the cheek nowadays?”

Elain smiled.

Azriel Night apparently.

“He kissed you on the cheek?”

“He did,” Nuala laughed. “He is very respectful. I think he is cautious, because he is a public figure. Maybe he doesn't want to rock the boat and make assumptions? You know how footballers are often accused of things. Perhaps it takes time to cross that line,”

“Yeah, you might be right. Now that I think about it, that could be the reason,” Elain nodded to herself.

“Anyways! I don’t want to take up any more of your time. I am sorry for ringing on a Sunday, but I just wanted to share how things were progressing.���

“Thank you. Keep me posted. Good luck.”

It seemed that her time with Mr. Night would be shorter than expected.

Elain wouldn’t have been surprised if Nuala was scrolling through Pinterest, looking at wedding dresses and ideas.

“Have a nice day, Elain!”

“You as well.”

Elain put aside the phone and looked out into her garden. 

The rain was coming hard now, beating down the glass like tears.

She picked up her personal phone and saw a message.

Where is my photo, beautiful?

3 minutes later.

Still waiting…

2 minutes later.

What did I do? You don’t need to send it to me if you are shy. Though I’d like to see it.

She sighed and said loudly,

“Piglet, we are going out.”

Piglet raised his head and gave her a doubtful look, after he glanced out the window and saw all that rain.

“Come on,” she slapped her thighs and got up. “You are a dog, you are fine.”

She looked back at her phone and then turned it off completely.

[salaciousdoll]

‎  🍰 ♡ 𓂃 Tag System

˗ˏˋ ꒰ moodboards for aisha ♡ ꒱ 𓍼 reblogs of cute and yummy moodboards

ෆ ㆍ┈ ꒰ঌ salacious recommendations ໒꒱ 𓍼 recommendations of the most wonderful fics

‎ 𖦁ׅ ࣪ ׂ salacious mooties ៵ 🐇 ࣪ ִֶָ ⋆ 𓍼 my gorgeous moots

♡₊⁺. ˖ ࣪ ‹ dirty little anons 𖥔 ࣪ ᥫ᭡ 𓍼 anons for little ol’ me

♡₊⁺. ˖ ࣪ ‹ dirty little mail 𖥔 ࣪ ᥫ᭡ 𓍼 my mailbox

ぃ ˑ 🐩 divalicious babes 🐩 𓍼 reblogs or post of pretty gals

ᓚᘏᗢ : That’s so me 🗯 ꗃ 𓍼 post or reblogs that relates to me

☄︎︵‿꒰୨ the princess is speaking ୧꒱‿︵‧˚ 𓍼 me blabbering and ramblin

❤︎. ･*:｡ my passion for fashion .･*:｡❤︎. 𓍼 my fashion taste

🧋─⋆⋅Drinkies for my cuties⋅⋆─ 𓍼 reblog of pretty drinks for pretty girls

🍰 ─⋆⋅ Foodies for my cuties⋅⋆─ 𓍼 reblog of yummy foods for my girlies

🎞️ — •ﾟ｡ ┈୨ let’s run that clip back ୧┈•ﾟ｡ 𓍼 icymi reblogs

‎‧₊˚ 🎀⋅Salacious Exploits moodboards ₊˚ෆ 𓍼 Salacious Exploits Vibes and Looks

Second tier 🎀

✩‧₊˚ ─ neediess🛍️ 𓍼 Thing I need and want

ᰔsᩚ     ィ    Re-Re’s inspo 🌸 𓍼 yn( reader) looks, inspo, etc.

[yrptraumacentermanga]

Ahh, it's a little sad the Z Cell stuff won't be happening, but I can't say I blame you lol. TC:SO was my first TC game and I thought it was AMAZING... ...so imagine my surprise when I played the other games and realized just how wonky that end stuff actually was XD

That said, my absolute favorite moment in the series will always be getting to play as Naomi & operate on Derek. What a shame it's all wrapped up in some odd plot holes! It's an incredible character moment for Derek, Angie, AND Naomi. Just an awesome setup with satisfying character development that the game writers def made the most of imo. And I looove seeing my fav gal Naomi get to be a BAMF

Anyway, I'm just ramblin'. Your comic has been such a fun ride, and I can't wait to see what you guys decide to cook up! :D

XD Heheh well I'm glad you're still enjoying it despite the differences. I will agree though if there is anything I liked about Z-Cell it was Naomi's part in it all. She's amazing and I love her. Honestly her scene with Derek we still partially kept, just came in the form of them talking over operating on Cybil rather than them talking about working on him. It was one of my favorite scenes to write.

I have a lot I wish I could talk about right now buuuuut I'm going to let the current chapter speak for itself. >:3 It's gonna be a heck of a ride I can tell you that. (Cause fun fact about Chapter 24. It's the longest chapter of the whole series.)

Honestly a lot of stuff in the future is going to be a heck of a ride. Just wait... Though if you want things to look at that give hints, I recommend checking out the concept art I post on one of my other blogs here on tumblr. (yellowroseanddreamstorm) Nothing spoilery I can assure but fun teasers. :) Just so you know.

[cowpokeomens]

Just make Will a girl! Pretty girl Will who wears cargo pants and baggy t-shirts until it’s too hot and then she’s walking around in sports bras all summer :-/ tattoos disappear under aforementioned bra and you would like to taste see the rest :-/ Girl Will in her flashy little sports car picking you up to go to the pool :-/ tits spilling from her bikini top :-/ ass straining in her board shorts :-/ lets you ride on her back as a mermaid :-/ pushes you against the pool wall to make out with you :-/ as a gal pal :-/

sorry about the lack of content im having major writers block bc i cant stop thinking about lesbian sex.

[sonikkublue]

I don't have twitter, but I would occasionally lurk on it (before it became X and made it nearly impossible to explore w/out an account) to find new artists, and I saw your Mafia AU and really liked it. I just came across your blog by chance and wanted to say I absolutely ADORE your art! Its so expressive, your line-work is really crisp, and your use of colors is immaculate! And your specific interpretation of how Sonic and Shadow's relationship would be within the AU is something I find really refreshing!

Anyways, sorry for rambling. Have a nice day/night!

AWWW shucks hehe!! ty I rly appreciate ur kind words, I am very happy u see all that good stuff in me work, tyty

I die hard for expressions and stuff like that, and I do what I can to not only make it enjoyable for myself, but for others as well!!

and do not apologize for ramblin, it is all good my guy, gal, whatever u like to be called- I dont mind it at all!!

I hope u have a good day/night urself!! again ty for the kind words, i appreciate a lot, and u as a person

[cowpokeomens]

noah is into a nice messy making out sesh. i’m talking he clashes his teeth into yours but doesn’t care one bit. spit down your chin and up your nose. tryna suck your tongue out your mouth. tongue fucking you. biting a wee bit too hard on your lips that it leads to bleeding but he licks that up no bother. all whilst moaning unnecessarily loud, running his hands all over your body, groping around and digging his nails into your skin. he’ll also pull on your hair to guide you in the direction he wants you before he tugs your head back to go to town on your neck :)

OKAY YEAH???? WAHT PROMPTED THIS ANON???

Okay yeah so. Holy shit where do I begin. So:

• Noah

Yup!

Okay seriously like he’s sooooooo fucking demanding I swear if he wasn’t 7ft tall we would all just call it like it is and say he’s a brat, anyways- so demanding. Doesn’t bother asking for what he wants, just takes it. Very into the animalistic desire you two have for each other. Especially in the first few months of your relationship, whatever that relationship may be. Like when he’s horny he’s on a one track mind of fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck so there’s no such thing as a cute smooch here and there, he’s grabbing you by your hair in the middle of movie night and dragging you into his lap to suck your face off. Would grip your waist hard enough to leave bruises, presses his fingers into said bruises for weeks. It takes .02 seconds for him to stiffen up with you in his lap, and then he’s grinding into you so aggressively that he almost bucks you off his lap completely. What the fuck. I’m never going to be okay again.

[sixhours]

📕 WIP Wednesday Thursday

Thanks for the tag @joelmillerisapunk! This is from the same WIP I've been working on and will be working on until the end of time, apparently, The Last of Us post-ep for episode 8, all the angst and hurt/comfort a gal could want.

~*~

He’s not twenty steps away when his lungs seize and his chest tightens. He’d felt it coming on, knew he couldn’t stay and let her see him break. He makes it ten more steps before dropping to his knees in the snow.

He should have left her in Jackson, should have insisted she go with Tommy. None of this would have happened if he had just ignored his selfish desire to keep her close, she would be safe, no Silver Lake, hell they’d probably be in Salt Lake City by now if he had only–

There’s a faint keening sound bubbling up the back of his throat, and he bites down hard on his fist to stop it from turning into a sob. His stomach aches when he bends forward but he leans into the sensation, forehead pressed to the snow, letting the pain ground him and overtake his despair.

~*~

No-pressure tags: @mountainsandmayhem @sin-djarin @wannab-urs @katiexpunk @bumblepony @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @djarinmuse and anyone who wants to participate, lemme see what ya got!

[jefferyryanlong]

Infinite Pau Hana - August 23, 2023

"please hurry back to me"

Hour 1

I Wish I Knew (How It Would Feel to Be Free) - Nina Simone Midsummer New York - Yoko Ono All Mirrors - Angel Olsen Shut Up Kiss Me - Angel Olsen Tit for Tat - Ruby Andrews Linda - Hinds Are You With Me Now? - Cate le Bon Illusion - Norma Tanega Time Has Told Me - Joan Shelley Cycle - Joan Shelley When I Fall In Love - Betty Carter Guess Who I Saw Today - Nancy Wilson Send in the Clowns (live) - Cleo Laine

Hour 2

I Will Move on Up a Little Higher - Mahalia Jackson I'll Take You There - The Staple Singers Ramblin' - Aretha Franklin I Say a Little Prayer - Aretha Franklin Love Vibrations - Dee Dee Bridgewater Stoney End - Laura Nyro Time Is on My Side - Irma Thomas Ruler of My Heart - Irma Thomas Sally Go Round the Roses - The Jaynetts South Street - The Orlons Gravy (for My Mashed Potatoes) - Dee Dee Sharp How Did the Feeling Feel to You - Karen Dalton Halah - Mazzy Star Galileo - Indigo Girls

Hour 3

Panis et Circenses - Os Mutantes India - Gal Costa Child of the Moon - Radon Daughters Don't Touch that Thing - Sylvia Hall

KTUH - 90.1 FM Honolulu, 91.1 FM North Shore, ktuh.org

[justalilpearlie]

Ngl might start being more open abt me alterhumanity here. Like IRLs and fictionkins and whatnot.

I mean its not like I precisely hide it or anything either tbh, but I dont talk abt it as much

Then again I have @pretty-house-pretty-garden where I should rlly work on my intro and start posting more. Since I legit made it *for* that

But like yeah idk

Cus i wanna post some writings ive done based on my memories cus idk they're stuff im proud of. shrugs

but like idk i dont wanna main tag it or stuff cus ik them outsiders cc's be usin tumblr n dont wanna see that. But then again if i just make it very clear im not fan posting but rather mem posting. They cant get mad at me... and if they do thats their problem but i still can try and do my best to make sure we chill

Cus personally im very chill w krowfang and id like to mantain that odd parasocial friendship and not make it uncomfortable.

Then again i do disagree w some stuff it says abt tumblr cus like. Hey. when ppl post abt cocoa duo tahts c!krow and c!magic not cc!krow and cc!magic so like bro leave ur own issues w her out of this. Its like bringing the children into the problem. Dont bring us into yalls friendship divorce

And i aint even like a fan of hers btw she's just my cc and i jokingly call her my "mother" slash "creator" cus im an IRL of c!magic. But like pls cc!magic wasnt actually like publicly problematic or shitty, from what ive heard she was just like. Difficult to work with?? Immature maybe? Lack of compromise?? Whats that have to do w ppl posting abt yalls characters who had an interesting story and relationship together. I just dont get it man.

Again aint gonna tag this cus im just ramblin but man it seriously bothers me (as in the situation). Like at times i hear it complain abt that stuff on stream and it makes me feel a bit like shit?? Then im like wtf why should i feel like shit for existing man, i didnt even choose to be this splitdye haired gal, what the flip. But then again still I dont rlly feel like watching it or hearing it yap for at least a day or two.

"That sounds like a you problem" and it is! But this is also a me account. and its complains are it problems, not community problems, but it is its community so its entitled to complain abt this stuff there too. I just find it kinda shitty cus like. "I get it" ok so stop shamin ur fanbase man... like im just sayin, it be complaining abt its tumblr fanbase like the tumblr ppl aint gonna be in the twitch chat too... im just- idk man

Seems a bit shitty

Eh whatever, at the end of the day its still krow krowfang and im its strongest soldier. And it created one of my biggest hyperfixations, might be a sp/in atp, idk man like its not always super intense but my interest in that thing never dies, like i NEED it to fuel my veins... gzhhshxhdhgwhdh. Like its bigger than a normal interest, but also not as intense as a hypefix atm. Maybe its a hyperfix that comes and goes, maybe it can stay in the normal interest zone for a while, heck yeah i win!

One less thing to be insane abt. Until it mentions it again.

God actually i think its gonna be doing the ao3 fanfic reading today, idk how much i wanna see that idk

Tho it did say it was gonna pick out the better ones. But im scared of another fandom rant. Then again some ppl do deserve to be told off a lil bit, like if theyre straight up writing horrendous shit. But the hate on harmless fan writing abt popular duos? Thats just. Idk man. that i cant get behind.

Uhhhh whatever this is way too long already

Buh bye lovelies

[allthemusic]

Week ending: 30 April 1953

A treat this week: three whole songs to listen to, and one by Kay Starr, who already gave us what's probably been my favourite song so far on this whole endeavour.

Pretty Little Black-Eyed Susie - Guy Mitchell (peaked at No. 2)

Well, we start off very chipper, launching into this song at a high-speed. And the whole song is just quick and chirpy, I like it!

The concept is a simple one: Guy likes lots of things, but he likes "Pretty little black-eyed Susie best of all". It's sweet, it's catchy and it feels somehow quite folksy, especially when Guy exclaims about how much "I love my pipe, I love tomaters / I love candied sweet pertaters" or "I love the sea, I love the navy / I love my biscuits soaked in gravy". It makes him sound like a good-natured grandfather, eating his food and being cute.

Not sure if I was Susie I'd be particularly flattered by the "I love Jane and I love Mary" line. Even if he does love you best of all, there really shouldn't be competition there...

That said, when we hit the line about how "I used to do a lot of teasin' / Changed my gals with ev'ry season", I do start coming round to Guy here. It's the good old "rake reformed" trope, and I'm a sucker for it. His ramblin' days are through, aww...

Musically, a lot to like here, from the clapping on the title line, to the deliciously vintage backing singers, to the whistling interlude, which doesn't go on so long as to get annoying.

I found myself whistling along while writing this, which doesn't often happen. A welcome redemption for Guy Mitchell, whose last outing was the absolutely terrible She Wears Red Feathers.

Side by Side - Kay Starr (7)

Another jazzy banger from Kay Starr, too - I'm being spoiled here! We get a lot of the same carefree, fun attitude here as we see in Comes A-Long A-Love, and it works about as well here as it did there. Kay Starr has charm by the bucketful!

The song itself is free-spirited and easy-going, all about how the singer and her love may not have the most money, but they get along, travelling through the world - you got it - "side by side". Which is already pretty compelling.

But the delivery is really everythin. Kay Starr isn't just nonchalant, here, about not having money, and potential trouble ahead. She's boldly and brassily staring the trouble down, almost daring life to throw its worst at her. That's the level of confidence here!

She has a lot of little technical things she does with her voice, from the sweep upwards on "looooad" to that little quirk before phrases like "a-singin' our song". You can hear them a bit better in this song than in Comes A-Long A-Love, with its tongue-twister lyrics, and the song's all the better for it.

She doesn't go in for lots of soupy backing singers, but she does harmonise with herself for most of the song, which is nifty, especially towards the end, where the harmonies come in unexpectedly, way higher than the tune.

And the backing is also enjoyably jazzy, from the saxophone on the intro to the big-band-style trumpets throughout. Fun, classy and honestly, a great song!

Pretend - Nat King Cole (2)

And we end on the slowest and most melancholy song of the bunch, but it's a nice cool-down from the madcap bluster of the last two songs.

This song feels like a song you'd find in a musical, with its sweeping strings and lush instrumentation, interrupted only at the end by a guitar solo, which I also like a lot. There's this tinkly instrument throughout, that gives the whole song a slightly dream-like quality that also works well.

It's sad, though, all about finding happiness by... just pretending to be happy? Seriously, I think this is just a song about repressing your feelings.

It starts telling you to "Pretend you're happy when you're blue" and ends up reminding you that "The little things you haven't got / Could be a lot if you pretend" - a clever mid-line rhyme, but a depressing bit of advice.

Then it turns to romance, advising you that "You'll find a love you can share" and that "Just close your eyes, she'll be there / You'll never be alone". Which I initially thought was about an unrequited love, but on a few listens, I got the impression that this bit was more about loneliness, and not having someone at all. Which is sad. There should be more songs nowadays about the experience of being lonely, rather than a specific person you're pining after.

And even the ending, which sounds so uplifting, isn't really a win for the listener or for Nat King Cole: "And if you sing this melody / You'll be pretending just like me / The world is mine, it can be yours, my friend / So why don't you pretend?" You can have anything, sure - but it's only pretend!

Depressing, but this song did actually make me feel things, so I'll call that a win. I could actually see a stripped back version of this being a hit today, it's got a fairly timeless blend of melancholy and cynicism that works well.

Man, this was a really good batch of songs! I would genuinely choose to listen to any of these for fun. I had most fun with Guy Mitchell, but admired Kay Starr the most, and Nat King Cole's the one who made me feel things. All strongly recommended Still, I'll have to award my favourite to the only one I could still probably sing along to five minutes after listening to it. Which means...

Favourite song of the bunch: Pretty Little Black-Eyed Susie

[rosethornshurt]

Are you ready to jump from their frying pan 🍳 into the next fire🔥🥵 and Keep On Ramblin' with Radio Company? Just a few more hours 🕒🕛 before "Keep On Ramblin'" drops into MY music 🎶 libraries from Radio Company @radiocomusic because I prepared ahead and pre-saved. Did you? Still time! FYI, the plural is not a typo. I'm an indecisive gal with years of work into Spotify playlists and now get Apple Music free with my new phone 📱 plan. As I see it, I win, so I win. 😏😉 #radiocompany https://www.instagram.com/p/CpBcU_LrBym/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[voyager3rv]

Cold Start!

Day: 948

Location: 35.558, -75.462

Entry:

Well that was something ! ! !

We had known we were in for a bit of a challenge with the weather that had been upcoming in NJ. ( temps were going as low as 3F )

- - Pre - Departure - -

So we dragged the lines early, dropped all our water and had a small space heater in a cargo bay to distribute heat through while we endured the arctic blast. We held well between the shrubs during our last stay, Nebbie was able to kick consistent vibes at approx 50F and that was with two electric heaters at 2200 watts.

~ Due to limited electricity throughput from the line ( 20A ) ~

[ We would have rocked propane, but after 2+ months of usage we were pretty much beat ]

This essentially set the tone for our disembark,

J and I were both a little slow to get back into the groove, but we made due and pressed on. Leaving went pretty smoothly and we were greeted with driving head on with what was described as "gale winds"... (shrugs) you honestly can't make it up. But it was such a great test for all the work we had done, this old gal, prior to our renovation would have been ramblin' back and forth like she was busting a move. :D

- - Departure - -

Our initial heading had us arriving in ( 35.558, -75.462 ) by Sunday afternoon, so we decided to split the trip into two days, somewhere around 266mi the first day, and 220 the next.

We got to our first layover without any other excitement, we were lucky to have some really beautiful sunset views over farmlands in MD as we parked, plugged electric only and settled in for the night.

The second day was really when all the excitement happened, we had to plan a spot to fuel our propane before landing, and after having called the campground we were essentially told we were beat for a Sunday fill. So we hunted around... or more like, J hunted around, and after five or six different spots we were able to narrow it down to an Ace hardware, believe it or not.

(added to the list of places to stop)

I jumped up front and went to start Nebbie, but when I turned the key.... ( click, click sppzpzp cacsfma lfnskj ) was actually exactly how it sounded. Now I remembered what that one thing was I still had to do... replace the battery. No worries though, we've jumped before and today was no different. So after getting Nebbie started we hooked the smart car and rolled out to our first stop, the gas station!

The first one was not set up well for us, so we had to cross the highway and pulled through another.

So this might have come easier to someone else, but not to me that day, because I tell ya what I confidently turned that engine off thinking we would be swell, and guess what. We weren't! lol so I had to unhook the smart car, turn it back on, jump the RV and then re-situate on the opposite side of the gas station to rehook.

(just a good ol regular fill up in RV life)

We were only forty minutes to the ace hardware, and on the way we decided to get smart. I asked J to research about the (emergency start) switch on the dash and how it operated and how we might be able to use it. So after a quick youtubing we felt confident that it would be straight forward.

We pulled into the Ace lot which thankfully was pretty abandoned and did a whole two loops before arriving correctly at the side of the propane fill up area. The worker there had seen us driving and met me there at the side, he was super nice and we discussed camping, and the type of camper he had as well.

After I hopped back into the driver's seat, anxious and ready to DRIVE! I look at J and asked her "No but really, one whole minute", she responded "One minute", my eyes flipped around in my head while I pushed the button (emergency start) looking between J and the wheel, waiting for the go ahead.

At juuuuust about one minute I turned the key, ( du du duuuu ) no dice. After sitting for a second, and pushing the button again, this time for thirty seconds, we tried again before Nebbie roared to life!

We were in some kinda luck!

With a full tank of gas, and propane we made our way further south, taking in the ocean views from Virginia bridges to Virginia Beach, driving all along the sand bar by Kitty Hawk and through towards Rodanthe.

First trip back on the road in the books, we're parked about 200 feet away from the ocean and the sunrises and sunsets have been BEAUTIFUL, the next week days here are going to be so relaxing!

- Transmission End -