#really really REALLY huge fan of the tones in that last one with the bike. my guy knows what he's doing

[boatsease]

another batch of my favorite suzuki eizins

夢見る街角 (DREAMING STREET CORNER) 1999, 495 x 851 mm, silkscreen

島に生きる (LIVING ON AN ISLAND) 1999, 566 x 730mm, silkscreen

FIGURE OF HAMILTON BEACH 1991, 342 x 480mm, lithograph

海からの帰り道 (RETURN FROM THE SEA) 1992, 478 x 671mm, lithograph

君住む街角 1996, 471 x 751mm, silkscreen

緑の楽園 (GREEN PARADISE) 2001, 450 x 610 mm, E.M.グラフ

[luveline]

hi! i know ur not from the us so pls feel free to ignore this but i think a kbd fic where steve and the girls are doing sparklers for the fourth of july would be so cute! absolutely adore everything u post 🫶🏻

thank u!! sorry i know it isn't the fourth anymore bit I hope u enjoy regardless!! kbd —dad!steve and mom!reader show their daughters how to use sparklers for the first time, 2k

Steve isn't a huge fan of fireworks because of how dangerous they can be, but sparklers are just fine in his book. He buys a box of thirty. The girls can do ten each if they feel like it, though he knows Dove won't be interested, and he guesses Bethie will be too scared to hold them. 

Still, he hopes. You're hosting a banquet of food when he arrives, a mixture of things you made and stuff he prepared yesterday. It's a feast of hotdogs and burgers, cupcakes and donuts, macaroni and cheese and chilli with white rice. The table is crammed with plates and the radio is on, playing fun pop music a little too loudly for Dove's taste, her hands over her ears.

You turn down the radio, and ask her where she sits on your hip, "Is that better, sweetheart?" 

"Hey," he says, putting the box of sparklers on the counter. 

"Hey, Stevie," you say, in a rare tone. You always talk to him with love but he adores how you say his name now, like you've never been happier to see him in your entire life. "They had some?"

"Lucky, right? Guess I'm not the only schmuck who forgot to buy some." 

Avery rushes for his legs, a chocolate donut in one hand and a cup of juice in the other. Despite her luggage, she expects to be picked up. Steve grabs her. 

"You're cold, dad," she says. 

"Really? It's not cold out," he says. 

"You need something to warm you up." 

Steve raises his eyebrows. "Sure I do. Give me a hug, but don't get icing in my hair, please." 

Avery hugs him, sticky cheek pressing into his as her arms strain around him. He pats her back, meeting your eyes and returning your happy smile. Steve turns on the spot to see Bethie practically elbow deep in a bowl of chilli. She loves anything that comes with rice, and she eats it like someone's going to take it away from her, chilli staining her lips and cheeks, a grain of rice stuck to her chin.

"Did you get a photo of that?" he asks. 

"Of course I did," you laugh, putting Dove down to brace yourself against the counter. You stretch your neck in a tight circle. 

"Thank you. Beth, that looks so nice! Are you saving any for me?" 

"No!" she says happily, smiling wide as an ocean. 

"Good girl. Alright, you tell me when you're finished, I have something fun for after dinner." 

Dinner gets put on pause. You wipe Bethie's face clean, giggling the whole time and telling her how cute she is in your saccharine mommy voice that melts her, "We should have that more often, huh?" It's always a good day when Bethie eats well.

Steve helps Avery put her shoes on and together they step out into the backyard. It's small considering the house is a four bedroom, but maybe that's why you'd been able to afford it in the first place. You work with what space you have. There's a light wood fence, the perimeter half lined by pansies and the other side with a slim shed full of their bikes and scooters and a small bed where the girls attempted to grow strawberries last year. They didn't take, but Steve has hope for this summer. 

The yard is clean though slightly neglected, and Steve has to work spider duty before Avery will agree to step off of the doorjam. You follow soon, Dove at your shins, Bethie cautious as she steps out in her socks behind you.

"Where's your shoes?" Steve asks her. 

"I told her she didn't have to wear them," you say. "She says they're pinching her toes." 

Steve had Beth's feet measured specifically to avoid that. He assumes it isn't pinching so much as not wanting to wear them. He shrugs. "Okay. Stay on the stones then, Beth, I don't know what's in the grass. You might step on a snail." 

"Ew," she says, sitting down in the doorway.

Steve lights a sparkler for no one first of all, wondering how each girl will react. He hands it to you as the sparks jump to life, white and bright in the shade of the garden, the shadow of their house. You wave it around gently, but when each of your daughters gasps in unhappy shock, you hold your hand under the sparkler and let a spark kiss your palm. 

"They aren't dangerous," you promise. You wave it into a heart, a star, the letter A. "Does anyone wanna try?" 

"Me!" Avery shouts, holding out her hand. The sparkler burns remarkably quickly down to the stem.

"Dad will give you a new one. Hey, baby?" you put the sparkler down on the glass patio table as it sputters out. "Don't you have those gardening gloves?" 

Soon, Steve's outfitted each girl in a glove too big for their hand. He passes Avery a sparkler, and her bravery and subsequent joy prompts some jealousy in Bethie, fighting her fear to take one too. You crouch down to stand with her as she waves it around, her eyes like saucers as white sparks fly. 

"It's so pretty!" you say. 

Dove is interested, but not in holding one. Steve picks her up and lights a sparkler, raising it away from her curious hands to draw her name. Avery squeaks with happiness and proclaims it as magic. "Dad, I'm a fairy!" 

"I can see! Try not to put it by your hair, okay?" 

She squeals some more until it dies in her hand. "Can I have another one?" 

"Ooh," you coo, watching with pride as Bethie draws a circle with hers, "my girl's brave today, I'm super proud of you. Isn't this fun?"

Steve lights another one for Avery and gives Dove a loving kiss, thrilled to see them all this happy. He's really surprised Bethie's enjoying herself, but he supposes it would be hard for her to have a bad time with your hands on her shoulders, your encouragement soft and shining as angora silk. 

They must use up four or five each like that. 

"Daddy," Dove says, imploring as she touches his face. 

"What?" he asks, thinking of tacking 'my little princess' on the end but withholding. Lately every sentence he says has a pet name squeezed in the middle. He has a lot of love to give. 

She looks at him. He pats her small back, wondering if she's going to bless him with a sentence or two. She's old enough now to be talking, but she's quiet like Bethie most of the time. Or, she's not talkative —Dove is far from quiet. 

"Hotdog, please."

Steve laughs loudly. "You want me to make you a hotdog?" 

"And ketchup." 

"Yeah, I can make you a hotdog. You don't want to stay for another sparkler?" he asks. 

"No." 

He laughs again, pressing another kiss overtop the first one he'd laid on her chubby cheek. "Thank you for saying please, sweetheart. You're such a good girl." 

"Can I have a hotdog, too?" Avery asks.

"Sure you can, whatever you want. Beth? Mom?" 

You've sat down on the floor. You're probably cold, but your smile would never show it. "I think me and Bethie are going to have another helping of chilli and rice, aren't we?" you ask hopefully. 

Bethie's sparkler fizzles out. "Can we do more sparklers again?" 

"Yeah. Tell you what, let's go back inside for food and when everyone's full, we'll come outside and do some more before bed. Sound good?" 

The girls head inside, and Steve makes some hotdogs on the stove. Dove falls asleep with a bun in her hand, Bethie with her cheeks painted in sauce. Avery doesn't tire so easily, and while the others sleep, you and Steve take her out to the back door to light another sparkler. You write your names, you draw clumsy constellations. Steve writes 'I love

Avery,' grinning as she sounds out each letter. 

Avery relishes in the delight of having your unfettered attention. She stays up for hours after her sisters with you and Steve, long enough to watch stray fireworks shoot up into the sky over your backyard, her head on your shoulder, her hand in Steve's hand. 

"This is the best day ever," she says. 

Steve wants to cry. Genuinely. He meets your eyes over Avery's head, and you shuffle closer to her without speaking, enveloping her in a hug from either side. 

"Every day is the best day ever with you around, Ave," Steve says. 

"The best. Me and dad tried some fireworks, when you weren't born." Steve and Avery look at you with mirrored interest. He doesn't remember what story you're going to tell. "You would've been very small in me at the time," you say, looking up as a pink and white firework blossoms across the night sky like a peony. "Like a strawberry seed. We… didn't know you were coming. I knew. I knew, but I didn't know. I could feel you right here," —you point at your stomach— "but I had no idea what you were going to be." 

"Hey, you're right," Steve says. He forgets you were pregnant before you knew it. 

"But me and dad lived together already," you say. "We were always going to get married and have babies and stuff, but you came really quickly. You were excited." 

Steve grins. Avery hangs on your every word. 

"But anyway, me and dad lived together. Not here, but somewhere, and we didn't have a yard but there was a little patch of grass and we figured we'd buy some, but he burned a stripe of my arm hair off by accident with a long lighter, and the we didn't have a fence to nail the Catherine wheel down, and he accidentally dropped the firecracker box on the way home so it didn't work anymore, and the rockets wouldn't light." 

"Oh, no," Avery says. "You didn't have any fireworks?" 

"None. But we had a pack of sparklers. We did it just like we did with you. I wrote 'I love Stevie' in big letters, and your dad tried to hug me and jabbed me in the stomach with his burned up one." 

"Your hoodie," Steve remembers finally. "Your white hoodie, I bought it for you the week before at the mall after you threw up in Dairy Queen. I remember." 

"I had it for a week, and he got this huge ash smudge on it." 

"But you wouldn't let me wash it with bleach." 

You give Avery a kiss on the top of her head. "I wanted to remember how happy we were. I thought the smudge was a nice reminder. Turns out I got much more than a smudge." 

"You got me," Avery decodes.

"We got you," you say. "You're a thousand different things, Avery. You're smart, and kind, and pretty, and you're also a really good reminder that your dad loves me." 

"Do you need a reminder?" Steve asks, genuinely worried, and kind of in awe. How you can sit there and say something that romantic off the cuff is beyond him. He really might cry soon. 

"No," you say smugly. "You tell me all the time." 

Not enough, he decides. After this, he'll be sure to tell you more. 

Steve falls in love with you for the thousandth time.

"What I'm trying to tell you, Ave, is that dad is right. Every day with you in it is a really good day. I love you so much," you start to fizzle, which is to say your voice gets tight. You won't cry, but Steve teeters. "I'm really, really happy you had the best day ever, 'cos you make every day the best for dad and your sisters and me." 

"Really?" Avery asks softly. 

"Really," Steve says, rubbing the space between her shoulders. 

A rocket squeals into the air and fractures into a ring of spectral colours. 

Avery climbs onto her feet, and, torn between who to hug, wraps an arm around both of your necks. 

Steve wraps his arms around you both, squeezing your hip. He's gotten used to being loved, to feeling it, but tonight might be an all time high. Sparklers become a Harrington tradition that year. 

[pbandjesse]

Oh man am I tired. Only physically though My brain is very awake. But today honestly was pretty good. The energy was just a little off.

I have high hopes because I actually slept really well. I did wake up in the middle of the night entirely too hot but James turned the fan on and then everything was fine. When I woke up for real I was not thrilled. But mostly cuz I was really dehydrated. After I drink some water and walked my face I felt a lot better.

I got dressed and I knew I was going to be changing later so I wasn't that concerned about my outfit. But I wore one of the new dresses that I got from the free pile at work and it's like a tennis dress with shorts built in and it was pretty comfortable but I definitely am having trouble with keeping my bike shorts down and this dress was no different. And that was a little annoying but not a huge deal in the long run. James left for work while I was putting my makeup on because it was starting to drizzle and they did not want to get caught in any rain. But it didn't actually rain today. It just drizzled like two or three times and then would stop pretty quickly.

I left for work and it was a perfectly fine drive. When I got to camp I was still the first one there. And I would pretty much right away go and collect all my Native American stuff to get set up. I was apparently wrongly under the assumption that Sarah was going to be running the one on Monday. Because I don't work on Mondays. So I got everything ready for her. I printed everything out and got everything set up and I was good to go.

Heather would come in and we had a nice conversation about the networking I did last night and I passed on the business card that I collected. And we just talked about the field trip and how with the new stuff at the museum I'm just kind of a little frazzled as I'm getting used to it and figuring out how that will fit and arrange my schedule. And she's like super supportive and it always makes me feel nice to talk to her. Heather's great.

And I would feel pretty productive. I was there from 8:00 to almost noon and I was just plugging away. Around 11:00 I started getting a little short of tasks. I had emailed the teachers and checked on some stuff and I felt like I was at the end of what I could actually accomplish. Braden had just gotten back from Spain and he came to visit and it was really nice to see him. He also craved Chipotle while he was in Europe. Which I thought was very funny. He said that was the first thing he ate when he got back. And then I said goodbye and I headed out.

I went to Marshalls because my idea was I was going to get a couple pieces that I could wear for events. I found five things I liked but I only ended up getting two of them because the other ones just didn't fit my body the way I wanted them to. And even the two I got I was just like they're good but they're not perfect. I think with some styling they're going to be great. But it's just one of those things.

I would leave there and drove down the road to go to Goodwill. I had good luck there. Found three pieces. And a couple other small goofy things. Like the pickled person. And I was in a really good mood. I felt like things were going great. It had some really nice conversations with people while I was out. And things were looking really positive.

I drove home. But right before I got back to the house I got a notification that I had a text message from work. And it was like a wall of text. I had texted Sarah just letting her know that all of the journals and paperwork and stuff was on the desk and just was like cool you're going to do great. But when I parked and read this text message I was so angry. Just like beside myself angry. I don't know if I'm reading a tone in the text but I felt attached and belittled. Basically I was under the impression that Sarah was leaving this program but others are under the impression that we had conversations about me doing it and that it's been on the books for months. I don't work on Mondays. Was never in my mind that I was working this Monday. I brought it up last Monday that if I didn't have to come in on Tuesday on my first day of events I would come in on Monday. But that wasn't either or. It was not a both. And I just felt like the way that I was texted was not appropriate because it was accusatory. And I was going to respond very angry. I was shaking I was so mad. But I calmed down and I just tried to be factual that I didn't agree with the interpretation of the schedule. But I would come in. And then I immediately texted Alexi. That I'm sorry there was confusion I will come in on Monday but I want to reevaluate my job at camp.

Because this is the third time in the last two weeks that I have almost quit on the spot because of miscommunication and in my opinion mishandling of situations and staff. And I have burned bridges for way less. I am not saying that I'm going to burn this bridge. I still want to do summer camp. But I am sick of having issues and complaints about the work environment and the work expectations and being told well that's just how it is and I won't be exploited. I let myself be explored for camp plenty because I believe in certain things that we do and so I know that our pay can only be so much and I understand that sometimes we have to do extra stuff but also I'm not a fool. And I will not be treated like one. I'm also not a child. And I won't be spoken to like one.

So I was sitting in my car outside of our house for a while mostly in tears and shaking cuz I was so mad. And I know I catastrophized things when I'm upset. And I know that I threatened to quit and I feel it in my whole body that it is the right thing to do but I know in my brain that it is not. And that I can't freak out and just give up. So I sent that text to alexie and she thanked me and said that we will speak next week. I don't want to talk on the phone right now I just want to talk in person and I don't want to have a sit down conversation where we use restorative justice and talk through things because I know that if I am confronted I will just cry. So I am going to think long and hard about what I want. And what I want is to lead arts and crafts and be at summer camp. What I do not want is to be dicked around. And I very much feel like that is what is happening right now.

And honestly it almost feels retaliatory because I am getting another job and moving away from being there. But the grant is ending. I have to take care of myself. And I am trying my best to be financially as smart as possible and I have to look at the numbers and look at the facts and I'm going to do whatever brings me the most joy and makes me the most money. I am not money hungry but I am realistic.

I calmed down. I was in the car for a while. But I went inside and I held sweetp and everything was okay. James let me know this morning that they saw omelette. And he is alive. So we now have three frogs I guess! I have not yet gotten a picture of both of them next to each other but I really hope I do. Because the size difference is just going to be very funny. But that made me feel good. To know that he was doing all right.

I would go upstairs and try on the pieces that I bought. Mixed results there. With the Goodwill pieces. Two of them are a little small but I think with some modifications they will be okay. But because my arms are a little junky I got stuck in one of the dresses and I couldn't get out. And it was very scary for a few minutes there. But I freed myself and everything was okay.

I did put the pickled person that I bought in the fridge. Because I had sent a picture of it to James and they said that they were never going to be able to get that image out of their head and I don't think they know I bought it but I thought it would be funny if I put it in the fridge. They have not said anything yet about it but I am hoping that they do soon because it's just very funny to me.

I would just chill for a while. I cut my cuticles and fixed my makeup. I was going to wear a long dress but I decided on a short one and I'm really glad I did it because I was really happy with my outfit. And after having a little bit of lunch I left to go to the museum.

Traffic was pretty bad and my GPS took me a very bizarre way I think to avoid some of the traffic. But I got there early and went inside to see my James. And I was very happy to see them. And they would tell me a little bit about the day and just stuff. And soon I would go and find Jesse and Merrill to get the lowdown on tonight's prom.

I don't know if you know this about me but I didn't have a problem. My school did not believe in dancing. So we had a banquet. So I still have to dress up but it's definitely not the same five. It was more just like a dinner. And I was really. I know it's not the same still had fun seeing everybody dressed up and all that. But that would not start me for hours.

Slowly people for the event started coming in. I was mostly just hanging out with Jesse and Merrill and we were discussing procedure stuff still and we were going to have a meeting conversation later. First we were thinking about the garment loft but we ended up being in AL2.

And then people were coming in. We had care we had the event organizer and parents/shop room? I think they were and then people were coming in. We had care we had the event organizer and chaperones and teachers. And they were getting set up and everything was going really good.

The caters were definitely interested. This is our cheapest option on our Peters list and while the food is really good The service was not exactly what I was expecting. There was a lot of like miscommunication and and just a little bit of wonkiness there. I feel like the staff was as interested in talking to us. But I still think they did a really good job. And the food was good like I said. There was also a secondary vendor that was just there for desserts but that caused some friction between the caterer and the dessert vendor because neither of them knew the other ones going to be there apparently? Unclear. It seemed like there was a little bit of holding information close to the chest from the event organizer. Like the caterers were told there was only going to be 200 people but it was actually more like 350. So that was going to be a problem later when they ran out of cups. But we did the best we could and honestly I think the kids had a good time.

So fun when the kids started coming in though I love seeing them all dressed up and they all looked their best and it was just really sweet. And I was just enjoying looking around and watching people but eventually we would head back to AL2 to have our meeting of the minds and discussion. And honestly it was really good discussions. I felt like we were all on the same team and we just went what's best for each other and we're really frank and open about money and expectations and all that kind of stuff. We're also all really interested in bringing more of the departments together so we are having a lot of fun just discussing how we made be able to do that and I just think if we can convince the other departments to get on board with this we will be super successful as an organization moving forward and that's really important to me because I love the museum.

We did realize pretty quickly though that because they had way more people than they were planning on we needed to get food right then. So we were the first ones to get food from catering. And of course me and Jesse both caused a little bit of chaos when I dropped pasta and he dropped a soda. But we were able to get our food and we went back to the educators room to eat and we just talked about our weddings and stories about fights with our spouses and just having fun. It was just a lot of really good conversation and it was a really nice night.

We would head back to AL2 to continue our meeting of the month. And we would go through what each event costs and goals and just stuff like that like how can we make this the best museum possible and how can events do that in the constraints and how many hours there are a day. And I think together we're going to really do great. And that feels really nice because I feel like I'm a part of a team. And I feel so often I felt like I was just let to try to do things but not actually able to accomplish them because no one else had followed through. But in this instance I really feel like with all of us and all of our brain power we can actually push through some institutional changes. And that's awesome.

James had gone to a game and I had been following a long both with their text messages and just the Google alert on my phone so I knew that the Orioles were doing really well and they won in the end. And when the game was over James would come back to the museum to give me a little smooch. And then tell us about baseball before they went home.

I'm really glad they did that because I would not be leaving the museum until midnight. And I was hoping that they would just go to sleep because they wake up so early. But there was still a lot of night left.

Merrell would leave at 10:00 soon after James had. And me and Jesse would mostly hang out at the desk at that point. And we didn't talk as much about directing them event stuff more some of the ideas I had for programs and projects that we could sell to people. And also I'm going to be taking over social media so thinking about what my guaranteed hours might look like in the future. I think for me is continue the flat rate for me and try to get Merrill guaranteed hours first. And then once campus over and I can be more available in the fall then I moved to a hourly position and then have guaranteed part-time hours for me. Because all I want is 24 hours. Or 3 days. Basically. I would even be willing to do 4 days.

I just really want to be a part of a team and do some cool things. And not work directly with children constantly. It's a different energy and a different chaos and I'm excited about it.

Once the party was over We had some confusion about who was supposed to clean up what. Catering supposed to clean up everything but they were under the impression that they only had to clean up the main room. So me and Jesse were doing a little cleaning as well. I'm just trying to manage that because it was a little uncomfortable. But at midnight Jesse told me to go home and he would finish vacuuming. And I appreciate that because I have a lot to do tomorrow.

I am going to Scottish games with my mom and my aunt and I'm super excited about it. And then we have Mike's wedding. So it's going to be very busy day. I am looking forward to every part of it.

I just got home and I'm going to take a shower and go to bed. And be excited for the morning.

I love you all. Good night!

[hostingdemo]

Ash vs evil dead season 3 episode 10

Bassett (coming over from also-on-Starz Da Vinci’s Demons) does give “Bait” some generally awesome moments. The question of whether this whole thing will work without Raimi behind the camera starts getting answered tonight. Hopefully this AvED will eventually build up some actual narrative tension in addition to its tense action to help make the exposition between the fights a little less … dead … ite. I noticed, they’re brown … and lovely, like her daughter’s.”), this whole scene just gets tedious and I’m eager to move on to the next fight. So despite some funny lines (Pablo: “She doesn’t even have the crazy white eyes. “If you snag a little fish you’re not going to eat it, no, you use it as a bait fish to catch the whale,” Ash reasons, “I’m the whale, Pablo.” The problem here is with the breakneck, silly tone of everything else and that, well, he’s goddamn ASH, it’s obvious Ash knows what’s up and Kelly’s mom is a Deadite. Ash is naturally pissed, and the two argue whether or not Mom is a Deadite. Pablo reveals he took the Necronomicon to trick Ash into following Kelly. Ash’s description of running into a deer to explain their state of dress earns the best jokes for the night (“We had to cut it up with my chainsaw … arm.”), and despite their clearly homicidal appearance, they’re invited to stay for dinner. Our two blood-soaked heroes bust into Kelly’s house ready to kick ass, and find a pleasant scene of family reunion. Pablo’s character arc from sidekick to hero in his own right is clearly one of the threads we’ll be tracking this season, but so far Ash’s advice that he’ll know what to do once he’s hit isn’t yielding results. Confined spaces are always a good setting for Deadite fights, and the added threat of being in a speeding car led to a nicely paced little sequence here. Roper surprise-attacks from the back seat in the first of tonight’s two big fights. Evil Dead makes it canon that “Machine Head” is stuck in the Delta 88’s tape deck.Īfter we got a taste of him prowling in the trailer park, the possessed Mr. We got “Space Truckin” last week and now he’s apparently flipped the tape back to side A for “Highway Star” this week. I guess it’s supposed to be redemptive, but I’m still just getting gross vibes from all of this sleazy coloring of Ash.Īlso, he’s a huge Deep Purple fan? That makes sense for Ash. Evil Dead wants us to know that when he’s not fighting Deadites, Ashley J. Man, drinking and driving, hitting on woman half his age, bringing “whores with skanky wrist tattoos” (why is everyone so observant and judgmental of this poor dead girl’s wrist tattoo?) back to the trailer … Ash vs. So Ash and Pablo set off and have a little bonding time in the car, where Ash is finishing off a beer and dispensing fighting advice. Ash wants no part of the rescue mission (“I’m trying to save all the dads everywhere”), but after Pablo tells him she took the book, he reluctantly agrees to follow. Kelly takes off on Pablo’s bike to check up on her dad and recently resurrected mom, and having just had her eyeball nearly removed by a demon-woman, she’s got good reason to worry. We pick up the moment we left off in Ash’s trailer. Then again, a kitchen table got chainsawed in half while it flew through the air, so I guess we’re still getting at least some of what we came for? “Bait” spends it’s entire run time picking up the pieces leftover from the pilot and not really giving us anything new to look forward to, which does not bode well for the show reaching any sort of cohesiveness. So far, the results are disappointingly meandering. Evil Dead to show us whether it’s going to be able to function as an actual TV show and not just a half-hour pleasure cruise for Deadite nostalgists. Photo: Matt Klitscher/Starz Entertainment, LLC

[ladyreapermc]

Fic: Closing Time (Johnny Utah x fem!reader)

Summary: You work at a clothing store, you get a last minute customer at closing time and sexy tims happen.

Pairing: Johnny Utah x fem!reader

Author’s Notes: So I’m slowly getting back to writing. I’m not gonna say I’m fully back just yet, but for this week at least, there will be content! Huge thanks to @toomanystoriessolittletime and @meetmeinthematinee​ for being cheerleaders and giving me early feedback on this! 

Wordcount: 3125

Warnings: smut. oral sex (F! receiving); dirty talk; unprotected sex with strangers (don’t do this kids!); sex in inappropriate places.

Most days you quite enjoyed it when there was barely any movement at the store. It gave you the opportunity of just being by yourself, reading a book, or enjoying some music or studying for college, things that you didn’t always have the privacy of doing at your dorm because your roommate seemed to always be around. Even during the summer and what was up with that? Didn’t she have better things to do?

She wasn’t like you, who actually had to work to put yourself through college and took some extra jobs during the summer so you could have some savings for the following term when all you managed to get were part-time jobs that you had fit in between classes and paid shit.

Fortunately, at the shop, you had some peace and time for yourself. It was a tiny, hole-in-the-wall sort of place around Venice Beach where tourists could get some shirts and other knickknacks to take back home and locals surfers could find cheap clothing and supplies for a day out on the beach. Most days, you worked from 9-5 and after your shift, you could head to the beach, spread your towel on the sand and enjoy the gorgeous Californian sunset. However, as the summer winded out and the fall winds blew the scalding hot weather into simmering heat, your boss let you close a little early, especially on Tuesdays, when most tourists had already headed home and the new arrivals hadn’t landed yet so there were barely any customers around.

Your plan today had been to finish your reading for class and start the new crime thriller you picked up at the used books store on your way to work. Except, today you were just too restless to focus. You must have reread the same paragraph of your textbook twenty times before you gave up and set it aside, giving the other book a go, but it was just as unsuccessful at holding your attention.

So instead, you moved around the cramped space, adjusting the decoration items, dusting off shelves, and refolding every single shirt in the display until it was perfectly symmetrical while you willed time to move faster so you could end this day. Maybe it was the heatwave that had made an appearance turning the air in the shop stifling and all you had to help you was an old and slow fan that made more noise than blow air. The A/C was busted and your boss still hadn’t called someone to fix it.

Another possibility was the fact that you had to keep the glass doors opened to help circulate a little air and every time any kind of wind blew or someone walked in, it brought with them the crisp smell of salt and sand that always made you ache for the ocean and fight against the temptation of just abandoning everything and heading for the beach so you could cool off taking a dip in the deliciously cold water. Either way, you kept checking the slow ticking of the clock hands, counting the seconds before you could turn the closed sign.

When the minute hand finally hit twelve, you let out a cheer, jumping off your stool and taking a step towards the door. You always locked the doors first to discourage most last-minute walk-ins while you closed the register, put away the money in the back office safe, and slipped out of the store through the back door, taking any garbage with you to throw in the dumpster outside.

Before you could move from behind the counter, a man stepped into the store and you groaned low in your throat. Of-fucking-course! It was like they stood in wait to come in at the precise moment you were about to head out.

“Hey, you’re still open, right?” He asked, pushing the overgrown dark hair back from his forehead and offering you an unsure smile. You felt the urge to lie and say that no, you were closed and he should come back tomorrow.

“Yeah, sure.” You said instead placing your best and most fake seller’s smile. “Feel free to look around and let me know if you need help.”

“Thanks!” He replied, flashing a wider smile that showed a small dimple, before moving towards the shirts in the display while you made your way to the main entrance, flipped the sign, and locked the door to bar any other walk-ins.

You hung back while the guy browsed the options, taking a moment to assess him. He didn’t look like a tourist, but also not fully like a local. Most Californian guys that you knew had the most horrifying hair cuts or bleach jobs you had ever seen and that was not the case for the man in front of you.

His hair was dark brown, a little shaggy from too much exposure to sun and salt and it flopped a little over his forehead, just above his eyes. He wore a grey cropped t-shirt that had definitely seen better days and struggled to contain his broad shoulders, showing a peek of toned abs. His jeans were ridiculously tight and hung low on his slender hips, the light-wash of the denim accentuating the perfect bubble butt and for the love of God, you needed to get laid. Badly.

“Excuse me,” he called, startling you and you prayed he hadn’t noticed the way you were checking his ass just now. “Do you have this one in black?”

“Yeah, sure.” You moved towards the drawers. “What’s your usual size? Medium or large?”

“I think large should be good,” he replied and when you turned around with the requested shirt, he was just standing there, barechested, his top hanging from his shoulder and you hoped your gasp wasn’t as loud as it sounded in your head.

“Here you go,” you croaked, offering him the shirt. “We do have a fitting room…” you gestured towards the small cubicle to the rear of the store.

“Oh right!” He glanced over as he pulled the shirt on. “Do you mind if I try them out here, though?”

“Not at all,” you forced your voice to sound somewhat normal.

“Awesome!”

Damn! He wasn’t just fucking hot. He was also cute, the wide grin he just flashed giving him a boyish look that was only enhanced by the almond-shaped chocolate-colored eyes. Biting your lip, you watched as he turned side to side in front of the mirror, checking himself out.

“It think is a little too big,” he said, meeting your gaze. “What do you think?”

“Well…” you cleared your throat and moved closer so you could look at him through the mirror. “If you want it more fitted, then yeah, probably a smaller size would be best. Want me to get it?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

Once again, by the time you turned back to him, he was shirtless, the garment he had just tried neatly folded and resting on the shelf as he took a look at some other shirts, his attention snapping at you when he noticed you coming closer to hand him the new shirt, giving you a glimpse of a pale, sunken scar running down his abs that stopped just above his belly button and that drew attention to the small trail of fine dark hairs that disappeared under the waist of his jeans and holy shit! He was bare beneath those jeans.

“Bike accident,” he commented as he took the shirt that you offered and you met his eyes in confusion.

“What?” You asked, mouth suddenly dry.

“The scar,” he clarified, putting on the shirt and his lips were tilted into a slight smirk. “That was what you were staring at, right?”

“Right,” you agreed, feeling your face burning. “I’ll just head to the register and give you some privacy.”

I don’t mind,” he shrugged, turning to the mirror. “This is better. What do you think?” He turned towards you, giving you a full view of the cotton fabric covering his muscles, looking almost as if painted on him.

“Sure...” you swallowed hard, trying not to stare. “If you prefer it more fitted...”

“I do,” pulling the shirt off and once again giving you the glorious view of his torso. “I’ll take it.”

You took the shirt to the register and he followed, pausing only to pick up his own, which he had discarded on a nearby hanger. You were expecting him to put it back on, but he just threw it over his shoulder, reaching for his wallet as you registered the sale and tried not to stare.

“Is that the only camera you have around here?” He asked, gesturing to a point above your left and you glanced at the object before nodding, exchanging the money he gave you for the paper bag with his purchase.

“Yeah, why?”

“So basically...” he started, taking a step to the side, closer to the fitting room. “I’m completely out of sight over here?”

“Basically, yeah,” you frowned a little, stepping away from the counter. “Why? Are you planning to rob the place? Because let me tell you, there’s not much worth...” You trailed off with a surprised squeak as he tugged on your hand, pulling you over to the blindspot and nearly pressed against his strong chest.

“Because honestly, I never really gave a fuck about the shirt. I just thought you were beautiful and wanted to ask your number when I walked in, but you looked kind pissed so I got cold feet,” he confessed with a rueful smile.

“So you decided to just get mostly naked in front of me?” You snorted, shaking your head and he shrugged.

“Needed to make sure you might be interested and considering the way you were eyeing me earlier, it looked like you saw something you liked.”

“You’re really sure of yourself, aren’t you?” You arched an eyebrow at him, not ready to concede just yet. Even if the heat of his body and the smell of sea breeze whiffing off his skin were driving you crazy.

“Only when I’m right,” he flashed you a lopsided smirk and just waited, gazing into your eyes, making it clear that the next step was yours.

Part of you screamed that it was crazy to even consider hooking up with a guy that just walked into your store, no matter how hot he was, but it had been a ridiculously long time since you last had sex and he was so fucking hot, the scent of his golden skin intoxicating and his heat was making you dizzy with want as you looked him up and down, noticing the volume pressing against the denim of his pants.

“We might not have cameras, but the windows are see-through, so get your ass to the fitting room while I finish closing up.”

He flashed a victorious smirk and nodded, heading towards the back while you rushed through the steps of securing the store before joining him.

Your heart was pounding with anticipation as you made your way towards the back, pushing away the curtain that blocked the small space of the fitting room and finding him perched on the low stool that you kept there so customers could put down their things, facing the full-length mirror, legs spread, jeans undone, revealing the bush of dark hairs surrounding his long and thick cock.

You nearly whimpered at the sight, your center pulsing in want as you leaned against the doorframe, watching him as he run his left hand up and down his shaft, head tilted back, breathing hard, eyes hooded. He was such a beautiful and debauched sight that you felt the urge to photograph him, capture that sensuality.

“Are you just gonna stand there and watch?” He asked, eyes meeting yours through the reflective surface.

“You seemed to be doing fine on your own,” you teased stepping into the tight space, fingers itching to touch all that glorious skin.

“I did not just spend most of my afternoon at the corner diner, drinking burned coffee just to jerk off in front of you,” he declared, standing up and turning your way.

“Ohhh, so this was premeditated?” You asked, kicking off your sneakers as he reached for you and you stumbled against his chest.

“A little bit, yeah,” he admitted, large hand hot against your hips and you wanted to feel it against your flesh. “You probably don’t remember, but I was here last week and you had to bend over to get something from one of the lower drawers...” he let out a soft groan, hands moving to your ass and squeezing lightly. “Fuck! I don’t think I ever popped a boner so fast in my life. I had to get out.”

You vaguely remembered that. There was so much coming and going in this place, it was hard to keep track of faces, but customers just taking off after asking to see something usually caused an impression. If you weren’t about to get fucked after six months, you would be more pissed.

“So you decided to come back when I was alone and seduce me?” you asked, running your hands over his chest and abs, scratching it slightly and goosebumps rose in his skin as he hissed.

“Yeah,” he spoke in a low voice as his hands move to the button of your jeans. “I’ve been thinking about you all week,” he slid your fly down and your breath caught in your throat. “I thought about bending you over that counter and fucking you until you’re screaming.” His fingers skimmed over your cunt, just a soft touch, but you gasped and arched your hips forward, holding onto his arms to steady yourself. “I thought about it eating your pussy and your ass until you’re begging me to fuck you.”

Those words were whispered right against your ear, before he changed your positions, crowding you against the mirror and pushing your jeans down to your thighs before he once against skimmed his fingers over covered sex, making you ache for him.

“What do you think about that?” He asked, lips brushing your cheek in an almost chaste kiss, completely opposed to the lewdness of his hand exploring your cunt. “Do you want it?”

“If you’re as good with your tongue at eating pussy like you are at talking dirty, then I maybe I do,” you declared, tired of his teasing and you felt his smirk as he gracefully slid to his knees in front of you.

You didn’t manage to get another word out before he shoved your panties down to join your jeans and his lips firmly connected to your clit. He gave it a sharp suck and you groaned, burying your fingers into his hair to keep yourself on your feet as your brain short-circuited and your knees turned to jelly.

He was very good at eating you out, especially because he was very attentive to every sound you made, every tightening of your grip on his hair, and roll of your hips to nudge him into going faster or slower, harder or softer... It wasn’t long before he reached that perfect alternation of fast flickering against your clit and slower and broad strokes of his tongue over your entrance and lips, a combination that drove you crazy.

You were whimpering and moaning, legs quaking with the alternating urge to close them around his face to keep him trapped there pleasuring you forever or spreading them wider so he could have more space to work, but the edges of your jeans were digging into the lower part of your knees, signaling you that that was as far as they could go.

As if reading your thoughts or maybe he just realized he would need more room, he shoved your pants down and helped you to kick them off so you could be completely free of the garment. And didn’t you two looked like a mismatched pair, with you standing there wearing only your top while he knelt in front of you, his jeans still on.

Once your pants were off, he hooked your right thigh over his shoulder, pressing his mouth even harder against your cunt, flickering his tongue over your clit before dipping it in between your lips, gathering the juices soaking your sex like a starved man.

“Fuck! I’m so close...” you hissed, rolling your hips, seeking more because that tight knot deep inside you was about to snap and from the way you ached and shuddered, your muscles tensing, you knew it would be a hard one.

“Yeah?” He mumbled against your core, his breath against your overheated skin making you shiver as he pushed two fingers inside you. “Gonna cum all over my mouth?”

He pistoled his fingers in and out at a fast pace, crooking inwards with every down motion, his tongue matching his rhythm against your clit and it was that made you snap as you bit down on your fist to stop yourself from shouting as your body was flooded with pleasure and all you knew was the unbelievable bliss that surrounded you. Stars bust behind your closed lids, the air came out of your lungs in short gushes as you fought hard not to slide down to the ground because your legs felt like jelly.

“Ok?” he asked, making you finally snap your eyes open to look at him.

He was sitting on his heels, face still glistening with your orgasm, his lips swollen and red from the abuse. His cock was rock hard, red, and leaking and you really wanted to return the favor.

“Way better than ok,” you replied with a gasp. “My turn?” To your surprise, he shook his head and got to his feet.

“Tonight, the only place I’m cumming is in that pussy,” he announced against your ear and shivered with anticipation. “So let’s get out of this fucking store and go to my place?”

“Fuck yes!” you grinned breathlessly at him as you reached for your jeans and he buttoned his over his hard cock and that couldn’t be comfortable.

“I’m Johnny, by the way,” he said. “Johnny Utah. Just in case you want to know what to shout when I fuck your brains out later.”

You rolled your eyes at his cheeky smirk and moved closer to him, once fully clothed, the only evidence of your recent climax was the sweat cooling on your skin and the stupid grin that refused to leave your face.

“I think I like you more when your mouth is busy with something other than talking,” you declared and before Johnny could manage a reply, you silenced him with a kiss, tasting yourself in his tongue.

xxx

If you enjoyed this work, please consider reblogging and/or commenting please. Feedback gives life to us writers!

[sirenascales]

-> Chuuya with a Black F!Reader who's a bit insecure because of her skin.

@furrypostsoul said: Hello admin, I hope you’re having a good day! So stoked to see a fellow bisexual bsd fan! I would politely like to request a chuuya Drabble with a black fem bisexual reader where she thought that chuuya wouldnt be interested in her romantically cause of y’know, her skin. If you could also add in scenarios where she was racially harassed in public (pls dont write this is ur not comfortable, I understand if you don’t! it’s something I want people to be aware about)

note: ahhh thank you so much for your request! i immediately had an idea as soon as I saw it and I believe I came up with a good one, especially after asking some of my pals for advice on how to tackle it! Hope you like it!

warnings: colorism, mentions of racial fetishization, microaggresion, and racism [not from Chuuya] insecure reader, angst to fluff i promise,

"I still don't understand why it takes so long to do your hair... aren't you just getting braids?" The confused look on Chuuya's face was honestly super cute and hilarious and you couldn't help but laugh behind your hand.

"That's just the way it is, man. That's why I said we can go out on Saturday. I can't on Friday since I'll be strapped to the chair."

"Man, whatever," Chuuya huffed and you rolled your eyes at him, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Don't whatever me. Just suck it up!"

You shook your head, the hustle and bustle of the shopping district around you fading as you looked to your companion. Red hair, blue eyes, fancy clothes and a dumb hat; Chuuya was honestly too handsome, too damn fine. The scowl on his face was cute and you resisted the urge to pinch his cheeks. You knew he would literally kill you for that, and you valued your life.

You and Chuuya were in that talking stage and finally decided to go out on your first official date on Saturday. Besides his... occupation, you found yourself very much liking the man. Not just for his looks, but his fiery personality made him interesting, the way he carried himself. He was great and you were so into him.

You hoped he felt the same way. He had to, he agreed to the date in the first place! And how could he not? You were a sight, rich brown skin and he sorta, kinda, absolutely loved the cute afro puffs you had on your head. You were beautiful, a bright spirit with a bit of an edge that Chuuya definitely liked.

After talking some more, Chuuya had to go off to do his own thing, and after sharing a very tight hug, you waved him farewell, promising to see him on Saturday for your first date.

You couldn't help the huge, happy grin on your face, giddy as you made your way over to a nearby bench, sitting next to an older woman. You paid her no mind, grabbing your phone to text your friend as you giggled to yourself.

"Was that your boyfriend?" the woman suddenly inquired and you blinked at her in surprise. Then, your face started to heat up and you laughed lightly.

"Well, not yet. We're just dating."

"Ah..." the woman trailed off and you didn't like the tone of her voice. Suddenly feeling awkward, you turned back to your phone.

"I don't mean to be rude," the woman started and you couldn't help the sense of dread you felt. Here we go again. "But you should be careful, dear. You're a beautiful woman but... Japanese men don't really like dark skin. Not unless they are with you for... ulterior motives."

Even if you were already expecting some foolishness, the woman's words still stunned you, striking you to your core as you gave her a look that exceeded shock. You were appalled, your chest tightening in anger and hurt. You took in a slow deep breath, your fists clenching tightly. Your body had gone numb, and you tried your best to keep it cool. You couldn't make a scene.

"Wow," you laughed softly, shaking your head as you stood up. You didn't pay that stupid bitch any mind, storming away, your anger just boiling.

Not only did that woman ruin your entire day, she honestly ruined your entire week. The anger had soon subsided and you were left with the insecurities you tried to push down, especially when it came to Chuuya. Your mind ran at one hundred miles per hour, overthinking as the cruel words lingered in your mind.

Was Chuuya another one? Like your last relationship, were you just a sexual conquest for someone just wanting to try having sex with a Black girl? That was what your ex-girlfriend did to you, so was this just the same? Did he even like you?

No. Chuuya wouldn't do that.

Even so, you canceled your date with him as you sat in the stylist's chair on Friday, eyes burning with tears. You didn't want to experience that again, so you figured you give it all up before you get hurt again. Or even worse.

After spending day getting your hair done, you gotten a quick bite to eat before heading home, feeling completely dejected. Your hair looked amazing, long box braids swaying as you trudged along. But Chuuya didn't answer your text at all, and that honestly made you feel even more like shit. Did he not care at all?

You sighed deeply, coming up on your apartment, stopping when you saw a very familiar red motorcycle parked along the sidewalk. Your heart skipped a beat when you spotted Chuuya leaning against his bike, and when he finally noticed you, your heart dropped when he yelled your name.

"Oi!" he hollered, stomping over to you angrily. "What the hell do you mean our date is canceled?!"

"I-" you were at a loss for words. "Why are you here?"

"I was waiting for you! I didn't know where you were getting your hair done so I just stood here."

"Th-the whole day?! Chuuya!"

"I mean, I went and got food and stuff but-"

"That's not the point!" you interrupted. "Why would you even bother?"

Chuuya scoffed. "Are you serious? You suddenly cancel our date and you expect me not to worry about you?" As he finished talking, Chuuya is shocked to find tears pooling in your eyes, your lips trembling as you hung your head. "H-hey, what the hell happened?"

"You don't just want to fuck me, right?"

Now Chuuya was at a loss for words, his jaw hanging open as he registered your ridiculous words. You spoke again, telling him about the things that woman said to you earlier that week, as well as the horrible experience you had with your ex-girlfriend.

"... I tried not to think too much about it but... I'm used to comments about my skin and race, I mean, hello! I'm Black, but... " you trailed off, lifting your hands up to wipe your tears away. Chuuya beat you to it, and you stared at him with teary eyes as he gently wiped your tears away.

"I'm not your ex-girlfriend." Chuuya was firm as he spoke. "And that old hag needs to mind her own fucking business. I fucking like you. Not because of some weird sexual thing, I actually fucking like you. The whole you. You're beautiful and smart, you keep me on my toes. And yes, your skin and hair are amazing, I love them, but those are only parts of you that I find amazing. I'm not giving you my love and attention because I want something from you, I'm giving it because you deserve it. And I want to be the one who gives it to you."

You didn't know what to say, what to do. You could hear your heart pounding in your ears, your mouth going dry. Still, after a moment you just end up punching Chuuya lightly on his chest, choking out a laugh while you cried.

"Shut up... all that sappy shit..."

Chuuya scoffed, lowkey offended. "Excuse me? I basically just confessed to you."

"Yeah..." you sniffed, looking and giving the man a watery smile. "You did. I..." Lips trembling again, you took a step forward and Chuuya wasted no time in pulling you in for a hug.

"And you better accept me or else I will kick your ass," Chuuya said, pressing his face against your hair. "You smell nice..."

"Hm."

"And you're perfect. Worth more than an experimental fuck and the words of some old bitch." There was a bite to Chuuya's words, and that made you feel so much better.

"I'm sorry for doubting you..." you whispered and Chuuya shook his head, pulling away from the hug.

"Don't be. I understand, I promise."

You smiled widely, face getting hot as he gently cupped your cheek. "Are you sure?"

Chuuya rolled his eyes. "Fine, you can make it up to me by un-cancelling our date. Let me show you off."

You giggled softly, hugging him again. "Okay. That's fair."

Send in your requests!

[putas-in-suffering]

Fluff #65 with Angel or EZ

✨“So, we’re just going to ignore the fact that you drunk-dialed me to tell me you love me?”✨

This took on a life of its own without permission. El espiritu de la puteria was with us lol!

“Bitch, don’t even act like you’re not in love with him.”

You nearly choked on your drink at your best friend’s bold words, thankful that the bar was loud enough to conceal the not-so-secret secret from wandering ears.

But she wasn’t wrong, she hardly ever was when it came to matters involving you, having known you long enough to consider you like more of a sister than a friend.

“Okay fine! So I love Ezekiel, y que?” You responded defensively, eyes nervously darting everywhere but in her direction.

“Does he know that though?”

You didn’t trust yourself to answer, so you took another long sip of your margarita instead. The bitter aftertaste of the tequila lingered on your tongue like the words you couldn’t quite bring yourself to say to your boyfriend. It was silly really, considering how long you’d been with EZ, but it still felt like such a huge leap.

She sighed at your silence, reaching out to place her hand over yours.

“Girl, what are you waiting for? You know he loves you too. I mean, the man looks at you like you’re his whole fucking world or something. It’s kinda gross.”

You smiled up at your friend, her validation meaning more than she’d ever know.

The thought of how much you loved EZ invaded your mind, the very look your friend described flashing through your memory, bringing tears to your eyes and a warmth to your cheeks. Tequila always made you sentimental, but you also knew it wasn’t the only reason to blame for the flood of emotions you were experiencing.

“I’m gonna tell him,” you turned to face her, your posture and voice suddenly confident as you dug around in your purse.

“If I can just find my phone....”

“Oh this thing?”

Your friend playfully waved your phone in her hands. It was safer in her possession than in yours, given the state you were in, but that didn’t stop you from reaching for it, nearly spilling your drink on the bar top.

“See, that’s why I’m not giving this back,” she laughed, tucking the phone away in her purse.

“Bitch,” you spat with a laugh, which she returned.

***

You stayed at the bar for hours, laughing and drinking until you’d both had your fill of both. It was last call when you grabbed your purse and excused yourself to the bathroom. You stumbled inside less than gracefully, catching your reflection in the mirror. You admired yourself for a moment, wondering if EZ would have liked your outfit, what he might have said to you if he was there, what he might do. The thought alone bolstered your confidence.

You set the purse down on the counter to look for your lipgloss, except the contents were completely unfamiliar. A small gasp left your lips at the realization that you’d grabbed your friends purse instead of your own. But you didn’t rush to return it, not when you knew that your phone was finally back in your possession. You held it in your hands like it was the holy grail, toying with the idea of calling EZ just for the hell of it.

Maybe it was how much you missed him or maybe it was the liquid courage coursing through your veins, but you decided to call him either way. The rush had you bouncing on your heels, waiting eagerly for him to pick up the phone, to hear his voice on the other end of the line.  

After what felt like ages of ringing, he finally answered, but you winced at the sound of his voice, finding his panicked tone confusing-- the late hour not really dawning on you as a valid cause for concern.

“Hey, you okay?!”

“I’m fan-fucking-tastic actually,” you lilted, and EZ swore he could hear the batting of your lashes through the phone.

He smiled at the sound of your voice, happy that you’d had a good night out with your bestie. You deserved it-- you deserved it all, in his eyes. You’d been nothing short of patient and loyal, supporting him through all that came with joining the MC, and for that he would be grateful to you until his dying day. 

“Sounds that way. You drunk, baby girl?” His soft chuckle went unnoticed, but the implication for something else, something mischievous, was there. 

“Maybe so,” you giggled, now pacing the empty bathroom, twirling a loose curl between your fingers.

“Do you need me to pick you up or something, amor?”

Leave it to Ezequiel to be chivalrous when you were so clearly flirting with him.

“Or something...” 

Oh, so it was that kind of call.

Your sultry tone had him licking his lips, and despite his better judgement, he indulged you in whatever impulsive game you wanted to play.

“You by yourself?” His voiced had dropped an octave, sounding deeper, more dangerous.

“Yes, but I wish you were here with me.”

It was pointless to hide your neediness from him when he was always one step ahead of you, anticipating your every move, knowing you even better than you knew yourself at times.

“Yeah? And if I was, what would we be doing right now?”

“All sorts of fun things, baby,” you teased with a bite of your lip.

***

You leaned against the sink, skin balmy with sweat, the top half of your dress pulled down, chest heaving from the orgasm you’d just pulled from yourself. EZ grunted on the other end of the line, having reached his own peak, your name leaving his lips with a soft laugh. It was too easy to give into your whims, but there was no denying you.

“Fuck,” you swallowed thickly, trying to catch your breath.

“I love you.”

You spoke the words with such ease, as though you’d been saying them all along. You didn’t even flinch or think twice when they left your lips.

“I love you too, baby,” EZ confessed, his voice softer now, utterly vulnerable and sincere.

“EZ,”

Your response died in your throat as a heavy knock on the door starltled you back to reality.

“Put your fucking calzónes back on, cochina. The Uber is here,” your friend alerted you, with a little too much enthusiasm.

You visibly cringed, fumbling with the straps of your dress to regain some long-lost modesty.

“EZ, I gotta go, I’ll see you tomorrow okay?”

“See you then, baby,” he sweetly offered, making you smile one last time before you stood to face the music outside.

You wobbled slightly as you exited the bathroom, the blush on your cheeks not fooling anyone as to what you’d been up to, least of all your friend who had caught the tail end of the show.

“Can’t take you anywhere, I swear,” she giggled, hooking your arm in hers to lead you outside.

“Oh please, no te hagas la santa,” you shot back with a smirk.

***

The next morning you woke up grateful the room was no longer spinning, though the same could not be said for the splitting headache and dry mouth you were now cursed with. Tequila, that sneaky bitch. You laid around most of the day, until you got a text from EZ that made you jump out of bed and straight into the shower.

On my way, see you soon.

You got ready as quickly as possible, opting for a laid back look, EZ always did say how much he liked you without all the extras. You felt the thunderous sound of his bike rattle in your chest as he drove up, the anticipation of seeing him making your restless. He never had to knock because you always met him at the door, and today was no different.

You watched him as he walked up your drive way, imagining, not for the first time, what it might be like to see him come home to you every night exactly like this. To share a home with him, maybe even a life.

From the moment he reached the door you were convinced you never wanted him to leave again. He looked up at you with that smile of his, the one that made you weak in the knees, and you couldn’t help but melt. You jumped straight into his arms, holding him so close that you could feel the beating of his heart against your own.

“How you feeling today?” He spoke softly in your ear, holding you in his arms as though you weighed nothing at all.

“Better now that you’re here,” you beamed up at him as he walked you both further into the room.

You landed on the couch with an breathy laugh, legs straddled around EZ, who was all too smug at your placement on his lap. You talked about everything from life, to the MC, and everything in between until a comfortable silence took the place of lively conversation.

Your eyes were beginning to fall closed, the comfort of your boyfriend’s strong arms unmatched by anything, when his voice cut through the silence.

“So, we’re just going to ignore the fact that you drunk-dialed me to tell me you love me?”

You stilled in the embrace, breath caged in your lungs at the blunt delivery of his words. The memory was fuzzy at best, the whole night had been a blur of liquor and laughter, but for as much as you wanted to deny it, you did remember. You couldn’t help but smile, warmth blooming in your chest, recalling how easily he had said it back, as though it had been on the tip of his tongue, aching to reveal the secret you both kept from each other.

“Well, it was a little more than that, remember, lover?” You smirked, wiggling your brows suggestively to diffuse the tension with humor.

“You’re lucky I love you,” EZ deadpanned, but a sly smile pulled at his lips soon after, his deep eyes fixed on yours.

“Yeah?” You playfully mocked, but your heart was bounding in your chest.

His face inched closer to yours, a rough hand cupping your cheek, lips brushing against yours in the whisper of a kiss.

“Yeah.”

Without skipping a beat, you closed the space between you, crashing your mouth over his in smoldering kiss full of longing and relief.

“I love you too,” you finally confessed without hesitation. “So much, Ezekiel. I have for so long.”

There was only a soft grunt before he pulled you down by the nape, kissing you with a ferocity you felt down deep in your bones. When you pulled away breathlessly, he was looking into your eyes, an overwhelming feeling so pure tethering you to him— the unbreakable bond of love.

[brookee-bee]

Karasuno High as Aesthetics and Playlists

3rd Year, Wing Spiker, Captain : Daichi Sawamura # 1

Earth tones, Dark Academia, Leather bound notebooks, wicker furniture, beige and dark green t-shirts, dark colored sweaters and hoodies, fitted brown pants and leather belts, black details, a few dark leafy house plants, simple meals of rice, avocado, clean sneakers, gym bag in the back of his car, protein powder on the counter, coffee mugs and matcha tea, encouragement and validation one-on-one, probably posts gym thirst traps on his story

Harder Than You Think - Public Enemy

Winner’s Circle - Anderson.Paak

Fell in Love With a Girl - The White Stripes

No Church in the Wild - Jay Z

Chelsea Dagger - The Fratellis

3rd Year, Setter : Koshi Sugawara # 2

Sky tones, light blue and bright white clouds, organized stationary and notepads, laying in the sun on a hammock, underneath a seashell, a warm cup of tea, making video compilations of memories, thrift stores, would do the dishes/laundry for you if you’re feeling stressed 

Shampoo Bottles - Peach Pit

Close to You- Day Glow

Loving You is a Mountain - Isaia Huron

Honey - Kehlani

At My Worst - Pink Sweat$

3rd Year, Ace : Asahi Azumane # 3

Beige and white, oat milk lattes, long flowing wheat grass, a hike through the mountains, weekend camping trips, ambitious baking, large bulky hands and calloused fingers, doodling through class, wants to be the little spoon sometimes, enjoys when you do face masks together at night

Fire Escape - Foster the People

The Bakery - Arctic Monkeys

Ain’t No Rest For the Wicked - Cage the Elephant

She Moves In Her Own Way - the Kooks

Ivy - Taylor Swift

2nd Year, Libero : Yu Nishinoya # 4

E-boy, short sleeve printed shirts and acid washed jeans, striped long sleeve shirts, hot orange flames, throws shit off bridges, likes to piss people off, loves spicy ramen, tattoos, embraces rejection, chipped painted finger nails, would record both of you doing internet challenges, his email notifications are in the thousands, sporadic texting 

Evil Fantasy - Freddie Dredd 

Wet Dreamz - J. Cole

Power Tools - Jack Harlow

REEL IT IN - Amine

Best Friend - Saweetie, Doja Cat

2nd Year, Wing Spiker : Ryunosuke Tanaka # 5

Skater, collection of worn beanies, silver chains and rings, tattoos scattered up the arm, overcast skies, dirty puddles in the city, thick well made army jacket, in class even though others are talking the teacher yells at him, accidentally punches the wall, sends horny memes from Twitter, really good listener, somebody you’d like to get drunk or high with

Beverly Hills - Weezer

Panic Station - Muse

Somebody Told Me - The Killers

Nice Guys Finish Last - Green Day

acting like that - Yungblud, Machine Gun Kelly

1st Year, Setter : Tobio Kageyama # 9

Alternative, midnight drives through a city, modern art museums, clean white collared shirts, black trench coats, quiet meditation in the morning, worn down combat boots, hates being pranked, tangled headphones, has a lot of pet peeves he complains about, likes to be away from technology to be in the moment, takes note of what song is playing so he can send it to you later

Yeah Right - Joji

Die Alone - FINNEAS 

Show Me How - Men I Trust

Places We Won’t Walk - Bruno Major

Sharing Beds - The Japanese House

1st Year, Middle Blocker, Decoy : Shoyo Hinata

Soft Boy, loves wildflowers, picnic dates, walks through a nature reserve,  collects seashells and rocks for his windowsill, tried to make bread but failed, sends you goodnight/morning texts everyday, bike riding dates, plays with your hair because why else is it there

Feel Special - TWICE

Daydreamer - MYLK

Only a Fool - Galantis

Kill vs Main - Grimes

Treat People with Kindness - Harry Styles

1st Year, Middle Blocker : Kei Tsukishima

Grunge, white collared shirts, simple healthy meals, messy notes with scribbled and poorly drawn diagrams, books with lots of tagged places he wants to remember, existentialism, organized bookshelves with smart decor, CD collection organized by genre, probably a Frank Ocean stan, listens to podcasts about space and quantum physics, is probably a huge star wars fan, planetarium and natural history museum dates, surprises you with overpriced coffee

Love It if We Made It - the 1975

Bonfire - Childish Gambino

Godspeed - Frank Ocean

Kelso - Matty Wood$

STFU! -Rina

1st Year, Pinch Server : Tadashi Yamaguchi

 Light academia, cozy socks, big blankets, lots of plants and a cat around the house, stacks of books on the floor, experiments with makeup and fashion, on weekends will work on a DIY project, needs constant reassurance but hates attention, drinks tea with honey and cream, wants to spend time with you whenever but doesn’t want to be a bother

A Phone Call in Amsterdam - Valley

Moon Song - Phoebe Bridgers 

Tired - bebadoobee

Brazil - Declan McKenna

Tonight (I Wish I was Your Boy) - The 1975

3rd Year, Manager : Kiyoko Shimuzi

Minimalism, oversized hoodies with tights, white sneakers, ripped light wash jeans, probably works at a retail store in the mall, likes to buy name brand clothing, big fan of the olympics, detail oriented, really good at budgeting, fan of stationary, fresh haircuts, would write you notes and surprise you with your favorite meal every now and then

Tomboy - Princess Nokia

Check- Queen Herby

Who’s Gonna Save U Now? - Rina Sawayama

Fuck Me in Shibuya - Ashnikko

Baby Girl - Chloe x Halle

1st Year, Manager : Hitoka Yachi

Pastel, pink clouds, runs a secret stan account, wears lots of trendy and stylish clothing, doodles on napkins, dewy makeup, lots of pink blush, fake lashes, cat eyed liner, makes her lunch aesthetically pleasing, cool edits for her pictures, sends the best memes in the group chat, if it reminds her of you she’ll buy it and surprise you the next day, loves to be matching with you, makes you learn kpop dances with her, has a fuzzy keychain

NASA - Ariana Grande

Ice Cream Cake - Red Velvet

Do Me - Kim Petras

The Boys - Girl’s Generation

FANCY- TWICE

Coach Ukai

Does not know what it means to have an aesthetic, messy hair, cigarettes, canned coffee, white t shirts, baggy sweatpants, cheap meals, likes newspapers but won’t pay for it, probably borrows cash from you a lot but never pays you back, constantly watching sports clips on twitter, likes old cars and guitars, probably used to draw dicks in bathroom stalls, hates the government, has lots of stories from his twenties, makes a great breakfast when he has the time, wants you to get a matching tattoo with him, 

Habit - Still Woozy

Cool With You - Her’s

Lover’s Rock - TV Girl

 Outta My Mind - Monsune

You’re Gonna Live Forever In Me - John Mayer

Coach Takeda

Minimalism, sweaters over collared shirts, clean sneakers, morning meditation and workouts, fresh laundry, loves warm sheets after a wash, bonsai tree, great at making drinks, goes out of his way to make sure you’re heard and respected, knows how to knit and sew, believes in karma, annoyed if you are one your phone when with them

Brandy (You’re a Fine Girl) - Looking Glass

 Come and Get Your Love- Redbone

She’s So High- Tal Bachman

Wonderwall- Oasis

Vienna- Billy Joel

@brookemasterson on spotify if you’d like the playlist ♡

[iwantutobehapppier]

Birthday Boy

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Trying to make up for last years birthday celebrations you take Steve on a path down memory lane with some fun peppered in.

Warnings: SMUT. Unprotected Sex, fingering, oral, cock warming, choking, and cursing. 18 an older only, do not read if under the age of 18. This isn’t for everyone, if any of these situations bother you please read no further.

Word Count: 6,623

A/N: This is for Steve’s Birthday! Also to celebrate by participating in @sherrybaby14 Happy Birthday Steve Flash Challenge. Much longer than a drabble but meh. Unedited so I could post it in time. I’ll go back and edit it. Probably, maybe, we’ll see. Enjoy! Reblogs, comments and asks always welcomed!

Steve scratched the back of his head in confusion. Didn’t Sam tell him you would be here waiting for him? Looking around the deserted Avengers Lobby you were nowhere to be seen. It was the day before the 4th of July and most departments within the building had closed early for the day leaving a rather empty lobby this afternoon. A frown fell over his face, maybe Sam got it wrong and you were waiting in the garage?

Just as he start to head for the garage one of the exterior doors busted open to show a bike courier running in with a flushed face. He clearly had been rushing. Steve raised an eyebrow, placing his hands in his slack pockets as the courier stopped in front of him and bent over trying to catch his breath.

“For you Mr. Rogers- uh Captain Rogers,” the courier panted out holding a slim envelope up towards Steve remaining bent over. Steve eyed the envelope questionably before taking it from the young man’s hand.

“Do you need some water kid?” Steve offers watching him stand up straight face still red.

“Oh no, no” The young man barely a teenager by the looks of it waves his hands in front of himself.

“I’ve got too many more deliveries to make.” He took in a deep breath and looked at Steve with a growing admiration. “Can’t believe I get to deliver to you though! The Captain America!” Steve couldn’t help the smile that pulled at one side of his mouth at the courier’s excitement.

“Thank you for getting this to me so promptly kid,” The courier nodded his head vigorously.

“Oh of course! 30 Minutes Delivery isn’t just a company name it’s the motto!” Steve nodded his head seeing the same logo on envelope also on his shirt. “I gotta go! Have a great 4th!” The kid started walking off but came to a stop.

“Oh Geeze!” He turned back around to Steve. “Happy early Birthday Captain!” He waved enthusiastically and then turned to jog back to his bike.

Steve shook his head smirking, the kid reminded him of Peter with his level of zest. Looking back at the envelope he saw it was addressed from you to him. What on earth where you up to he wondered.

Ripping the envelope open glitter exploded out and Steve groaned. He should have known you’d do something like this. He shook his hands looking down to see his button up shirt covered in glitter, the creases of his pants littered here and there and the floor below covered with the craft product as well. He swore he could hear you giggling in his head. You were going to be in trouble for this, he swore it.

Looking in the envelope he saw a card and pulled it out, a simple ‘Happy Birthday’ greeting on the front, he opens it to see your hand writing instructing him to dress casual and meet you at Coney Island Luna Park by 6 for pre-birthday fun. He smiled at all the hearts you drew on the inside of the card and the cheesy way you put both of your initials with a plus sign in the biggest heart you drew.

Steve would be lying if he didn’t say he was relieved it was just an evening at Coney Island. Last year you and Tony had thrown him a huge birthday party he was not comfortable at the entire night until it dwindled down to the core Avenger group. Though tomorrow being his birthday you could always have more up your sleeve. He sighs shaking out his shirts and pants, feeling only slightly guilty at the glittery mess he was leaving on the lobby floor. You couldn’t text him or call him about meeting there no, you and Sam clearly plotted together on this one.

Looking at his watch he shook his head at the slight time crunch you had caused for him. He’d need to get to south Brooklyn from upper Manhattan not to mention he would need to change clothes entirely given the glitter and needing a more casual outfit at your request. Heading back upstairs he smiled wondering if he had enough time to fling some of the glitter left in the envelope on Sam.

-

You pulled your hair behind your ears as the wind picked up behind as you stand in front of the Luna Park entrance. You were sure Steve would like this much better than last year. Still disappointed in yourself for giving into Tony’s idea of throwing Steve a big birthday party.

Really, you knew better after being an Avenger for 4 years and with Steve nearly 2 of them, at this point you should have known it was a bad idea. Sometimes Tony was too damn convincing. When Steve had seen all the people there you could instantly tell he was uncomfortable but he played the part of happy birthday boy well and it broke your heart a little for him to have to fake anything on his birthday. This year you were determined to get it right!

This idea of a Coney Island date before his actual birthday came after he told you about how much he and Bucky would waste money at Coney Island. All the dames Bucky brought and or picked up while there leaving Steve the constant third wheel. Even with being a third wheel Steve never sounded upset about the time spent there. You had so much more planned for him but that was for you to reveal later.

An uncontrollable smile took over your face watching Steve stroll up the side walk in a pulled down cap, jeans and a tight black shirt. You licked your lips eyeing the outline of his chest underneath the shirt, he never knew how to wear a loose fitting shirt, not that you minded. Steve’s arms wrap around you once in his reach and pull you to him tightly, in kind your hand slip around his neck playing with his hair at the nap of his neck.

“Hey doll,” you smile into his chest at the nickname. “Hey birthday boy,” you muffle back into his chest. He kisses your forehead before pulling away to appreciate the light blue sun dress you wore with wedges giving you a few extra inches.

“You enjoy your card?” A sly smile pulls at your lips watching his brow furrow at your antics. “Everything but the glitter.” You giggled exactly how he imagined you would at the site of him covered in glitter.

“Captain America not a fan of a little bit of glitter?” He rolled his eyes at your sweet tone.

“That was more than a little bit of glitter and you know it. You’re going to pay for that.” His tone was gruff and your eye lids dropped half way looking at him.

“You promise?” You lick your lips at the possibilities. He stars down at you but was caught off guard when someone pushes past him, suddenly making him aware of your public location.

“Later,” He winks at your pout.

“Let’s start the Birthday fun!” You took his large hand in yours pulling him towards the entrance of the park. He remains at your side, intertwining his fingers with yours you look up at him continuing to walk.

“I’m not going on the cyclone.” You laughed at the grimace Steve gave. “I can’t believe it’s still here.”

“Are you jealous something almost as old as you still this sturdy?” You faced forward, leading the both of you towards the Coney games, knowing Steve for the most part was not a fan of rides.

“Are you saying I’m not sturdy?” He sounds almost hurt at the insinuation.

“Oh you and I both know you’re a sturdy ride.” You wink at him enjoying the faint blush blooming on his cheeks.

Steve handed you would be the tenth stuffed animal he had won for you. You had warned him to tone down his strength else he’d draw attention to him but he ignored your warning.

“I could never win these back in the day,” he confesses with a small frown as he hands you the giant stuffed bear in-between your already full hands. “I was too weak back then and I always wanted to be the guy with the gal who had all the prizes because her man could win them.”

“Oh Steve,” Your heart ached and warm all at once at his words. “I would love for you to get me all the prizes but I’m running out of room to hold them.”

Steve laughs titling his head back noticing your head almost covered by the prizes. Why did they all have to be giant stuff animals? As the two of you made your way to the next booths where he could win you something you started giving the current prizes to children passing by.

When Steve saw what you were doing he smiled until the corner of his eyes crinkled, overwhelmed at how generous you were being. It was one of his favorite things about you, never took more than you needed and sometimes even less than what you needed. The latter being something he would scold you for from time to time. You look up at him as the little girl you had just given the last prize to excitedly shows off the bear to her parents.

“Oh,” You seem suddenly unsure of your actions. “I’m sorry Steve I know you were winning those for me but it was just so much and I thought kids would probably enjoy–” He pulls you to him and kisses your lips gently, ceasing your rambling.

“It’s perfect,” he spoke pulling his lips from yours staring into your eyes. “Come on doll, I want to win you everything I can so you can give it away.” You sigh in relief following him to the next booth.

“Get me all of them Steve!” You cheered him on.

After winning you several more prizes that seemed to all be some type of stuffed toy you had given them all away except for one. Smiling down at the Captain America plush you couldn’t help but hug the toy to you as the two of you stood in line at a food truck.

“Hm, never thought I’d be jealous of myself,” Steve muttered dipping his head down towards the toy’s head pushed between your breasts. You pull the toy down but Steve caught your arm shaking his head.

“No no, I like it there.” He winked down at you before walking up to the truck window and began ordering for the both of you. Flabbergasted at his comment you stood behind him silently.

You couldn’t stop yourself as you dug into the truck food with vigor sitting on a picnic table across from Steve, smiling whenever your eyes would meet. Steve’s brow furrowed looking around the park noticing all the remaining attractions, a few booths, some machines, and attractions though definitely updated it all had a strange sense of nostalgia. The thoughts of Bucky and times long ago were prevalent, like a shadow around each corner as the sun began to set.

“Hey,” you recognized the bleak look falling over his face. “Come back to me.” You whispered, grasping his hand resting on the table across you. His head jerked to you, eyes clearing and a soft smile played at his lips.

“I’m here,” He smirked at the sauce dripping down your using his other hand he wipes the sauce away with his thumb and without missing a beat you turn to his thumb pulling it into your mouth. Sucking the mess from his thumb his eyes leveled with you, his lips curled up into a predatory smile as you graze your teeth along his retreating thumb.

“Naughty girl,” His voice a bit deeper than normal, with a sly smile you wink at him. “Maybe I didn’t want to waste of the delicious food?” He shifts in his seat and you could just imagine the hardening cock in his jeans. It was definitely time for your next part of the birthday celebration.

Without a further word you took both of your trash to dispose of it then grabbing you plush Captain America and the pulling the real one by the hand on to the next adventure. He called out your name inquiring where you were leading him but you didn’t respond the entire time. You finally stopped in front of an arch way displaying ‘Wonder Wheel’ in large letters with a giant Ferris wheel behind it.

“Another artifact like you,” your words held mirth as you stuck your tongue out the side of your mouth looking up at Steve. His eyes widen starring up at the Ferris wheel he rode growing up in Brooklyn.

“Wow,” He looked down when you pulled him further into the line. “Uh, I don’t know about this doll. It’s so old you know and it goes up real high.”

“I promise it’s just as sturdy as you,” Steve ran his tongue over his bottom teeth leaning back on his feet he looked down at you. “Not to mention who beautiful the night sky is going to be facing the ocean!”

“Doll,” his voice laced with growing anxiety.

“I’m pretty sure you’ve jumped out of planes without a parachute so what danger could there be in a Ferris wheel?”

“I have a shield to help with landing,” He looked less and less happy about the idea as the line shortened.

“You’ve got your shield!” You pulled on the shield sewed to the plush Captain America doll; Steve gave you a small smile and sighed in defeat. Happy at persuading him you lean up on your tip toes and wrap a hand around the back of his neck pulling him down towards you. Pushing your body flush against his you press your lips gently against the skin below his ear causing him to shudder and wrap an arm around your waist.

“I promise I will make it worth your while.” You whisper softly into his ear before nipping at his ear lobe and leaning back on your feet letting go of him. His arm loosens around you at the bite but tightens once more looking down at you in curiosity.

“Next.” You peel yourself from his grip and turn towards the Ferris wheel attendant who called for the two of you. Handing him tickets from your purse you had purchased before Steve had met you at the park.

Steve frowned adjusting his pants to make room for the arousal your behavior had caused. His brows lifted up watching you mutter something he couldn’t hear to the attendant and barely catching the sight of the $100 bill you slip into their hand.

Smiling brightly back at Steve you grip his hand pulling him to the large outer Ferris wheel carriage another attendant was opening for the both of you. Steve helped you into the box and following afterwards.

There were two bench one on each side of the Ferris Wheel, you sat on the one facing outward and patting for Steve to join you. He did but not without cringing the teetering of the box at weight change.

“What was that about back there?” He inquires pulling you to his side an arm draped over your shoulder. Shrug at him and let out a small ‘meep’ when the Ferris wheel started to move slowly. In reaction Steve pulls you closer to him your hand rested on his lap instead of being squeezed between the two of you.

Once you felt the two of you were at least half way up your hand began to wander towards his inner thigh, gently kneading him there, his eyes cut down to you but you smile at him innocently. He wasn’t fooled though. You began to lazily trail your hand up and down his thigh, purposely letting the tips of your fingers barely touch his growing erection.

“Doll,” his tone full of warning but you ignore him. Instead you pull your legs under you sitting on them the movement swaying the booth a little. You kiss him softy at first, trailing your hand up and down his thigh again.

Steve didn’t take kindly to you ignoring him; he threading his fingers in your hair and pulls your head back gently. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Taking care of my birthday man?” You bite your bottom lip and Steve’s eyes narrow on your lips.

“No one can see, unless you want them to.” A deep red blush covers his cheeks as he mutters a “No.”

You curled your fingers around his clothed hard cock, he curses under his breath looking down at your hand then back at your face. He pushes your lips back to his he was rough though, nipping at your lower lip you gasp and his tongue invades your mouth. In response you unbutton and unzip his pants your hand slipping into the slit of his boxer briefs. He groaned against your mouth as you wrap your fingers around his warm cock tugging at it gently through the slit exposing him to the air.

You looked down at his cock and whimpered, it was so flushed and throbbing in your hand. You tighten your grip and Steve jerked your hair making you look at him.

“Taste it,” he encourages you, pushing your head down. You oblige leaning down your ass lifting in the air as you held his thigh with one hand, the other resting against his hard chest. You gently lick the tip and smile when his cock jerks at the touch.

Unable to resist any longer you wrap your lips around the head and began to swirl your tongue along the head. Steve threw his head back, a faint thud against the window, he lets out a groan.

“Just like that,” he mutters under his breath as you took him deeper.

His hand trails from your hair down your back and pulls your dress up revealing your lace underwear. Oh he was definitely going to rip those off later. He grips one of your exposed ass cheeks then gives it a heavy slap. The force of his slap causes you to take his cock further down your throat with a moan. Wiggling your butt he smirks at the show slapping the opposite cheek, in return you took the rest of him down your throat, feeling his soft blonde pubes.

“Shit,” he gasps out unable to stop the way his hips jerk up when you pull up stopping half way to go back down. Purposely swallowing around him, your tongue rolling around any part of him you could touch. Trailing your free hand up his thigh you cupped his balls still within his boxer briefs.

His breath falters. “Doll,” he whimpers when you pull your head up and went right back down in quick sessions. “Please,” he jerks his hips up shoving himself into your receding mouth. With his other hand he grips your head and holds you down. You moan around his cock, feeling liquid pool between your legs.

You loved it when he used your mouth, hell when he just used you.

He pulls you completely off his cock, pulling your head back to bend your back at an almost painful angle. His eyes were nearly all black when he pressed his mouth to yours, spittle glistening on your lips. His tongue trailed along your tongue groaning into you at the taste of himself. With his grip still in your hair he pulls your head back looking you in the eyes.

“Who’s mouth is this?” His voice gravel from his arousal. You whimper at his words shifting your hips together. He smacks your ass harder than before and you swore the sound echoes outside the Ferris wheel booth.

“Who’s” he pulls your head down, your mouth barely touching the bright red pulsing head of his cock, “is it?”

“Yours Captain,” he groans and shoving his cock all the way down your throat, gasping as you gagged on him at the sudden intrusion. He pulls your head up quickly and pushes back down just as quick.

“Yeah it’s mine” he mutters moving your head up and down on him gripping your ass with his other hand.

“It’s mine to use and abuse.” He grunted when your throat constricts around him causing him to hold you down at his base.

“You deserve to be used too,” He pulled you up just enough so you could catch your breath only to push you back down. “Getting me on this old Ferris wheel with such ill intent.”

Pulling your head back one more time he admired the drool trailing own your swollen lips, a groan pulled from his mouth when you licked your lips clean.

“Such a filthy thing,” He kissed you roughly before shoving you back down on his cock barely giving you a chance to breath as he started pushing himself up into your mouth. Tears started to pool at the corner of your eyes in response to the random gagging, but you wouldn’t let him stop, even if he could at this point.

“I’m gonna cum,” he groans out, his hips stilled as he started to move your head again on his cock. It was only a few moments later he held your mouth at his base; hips jerking you felt warm shots roll down your throat. Swallowing everything he had you slowly pull your head up when his grip releases.

He was still panting, coming down from the feelings you sent through his body. Smiling at him you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. Reaching behind you pulled a handkerchief out of your purse; one he had given you so very 1930’s of him.

His whole body jerked when you began clean up his lap the sensation being too much, his eyes widen at your actions.

“Doll you shouldn’t be doing that–” He protests and went to still your arm but you swatted him away his post-orgasm euphoria letting him be bested.

“It’s your birthday,” You countered continuing with your task.

“Yeah but…” his voice trailed off as you finish and put the handkerchief in your purse and slip his softening cock back into his boxer briefs. Steve swatted your hands away to button and zip his pants up. You went to retort about you taking care of him but he stopped you before you could start.

“Hush we’re almost on the beach side,” At his words you turned around seeing the bright stars above the ocean. The city was way to light polluted to be able to see any stars but facing out towards the ocean you could actually see some.

Steve pulled you into his lap both of you staring at the night sky as the booth descended.

-

“Where are you taking me now?” Steve grumbles beside you, he was getting tired of walking around with so many people around and it was getting late. You pat his arm wrapped around you as you pull your cellphone out smiling brightly at the text you got.

“Who is that?” Steve felt a surge of envy of your attention being diverted from him.

“Remember me saying my friend that’s got a place in Brooklyn near where your mom’s was… Well she tends to be out of town around this time of year.”

“Yeah,” Steve trailed not sure he understood what this had to do with anything.

“Well she said we could crash at her place for the holiday weekend.” You smiled up at him.

“This way it can just be us, she’s got a nice 3 story walk-up across from Prospect Park.” Steve whistled at the location.

“Those aren’t cheap places doll,” You nudged him with your shoulder as he led the two of you out of the park. “Oh hush, it doesn’t matter. It’s ours for the night or weekend if we want!”

Steve nodded his head, staying in Brooklyn with his girl for his birthday sounded fantastic. No giant parties, no one knocking on their door interrupting their solitude. Just the two of them.

“She said the fridge has minimal essentials so if we want more food for the weekend we’ll need to get it.” Steve shrugged at your comment though slightly elated at the idea of doing something as domestic as grocery shopping with you.

“Well let’s head there. Figure we’d take my bike?” Steve question rhetorical, he knew you never drove. “Yeah just don’t go too fast.” Steve chuckled at your concern.

“I’d never let anything happen to you doll,” he kissed you before leading you to his bike.

The place wasn’t too far but far enough that Steve was able to admire sights of the Brooklyn he once knew merging with the 21st century. He pulled up to the walk-up and realized he could remember when they built these houses; he was barely 10 when they were finished. Shaking his head he trailed behind you as you entered a code into the deadlock keypad to the house.

Once the two of you shuffled inside he could make out familiar duffel bags on the couch in the living room. The both of you pulling your shoes off and setting them on a shoe rack next to the front door.

“Doll,” he dragged the l’s out inspecting the duffel bags closer.

You suddenly felt guilty for some reason, as if you had tricked him. “Yes Steve?” You tried to sound sweet as possible.

“What are our bags doing here?” You toed your foot into the hardwood floor pulling your arms behind your back.

“Tony may have helped a little in getting bags I had packed here so we could stay for however long we wanted.” Steve smiled at you pulling you into his embrace.

“And here I thought I’d just get to see you naked the whole time.” You pulled his ball cap off and threaded your fingers through his hair.

“I mean I could,” you gave him a licentious smile. He groans as if imagining you naked already.

“Yeah you should,” he leans down to kiss you but you slip out of his hands. His brow furrowed in confusion. You pointed to the bags which he quickly picked up and then crooked your finger at him. He followed you without a word as you made your way to the guest room.

Once he was in the room he sat the bags down and threw you on the bed only to pull his pants off before he pounced on you as you bounced on the mattress giggling.

“About that naked thing,” He wiggled his eye brows at you causing the giggles to continue. He silenced you gently kissing your lips then the corners of your mouth, trailing down your chin to your neck where he began to nibble on the skin.

You cooed, your hands wrapping around his waist pulling his shirt up so you could grip his muscular back. He grinned against your neck and sat up, wedging his hips between your spread legs. He quickly pulled his shirt up and over his head followed by your dress. He let out a pleased groan, his hands starting at your waist trailing up your stomach kneading your skin as he reached below your bra.

One hand slips underneath you unhooking the bra with finesse that took years to obtain, the other hand tossing the bra somewhere in the room.  You grip at the waist band of his underwear whimpering when you push your hips up against his hard cock, the friction setting your skin on fire. Steve groaned, his hands falling on the bed at your sides holding himself up as he bears down on you.  

You lean up nipping at his ear lobe and kissing your way up his chin to his lips. Gently pressing against him and you were met with his never ending intensity. Tongues fighting for dominance as his hands take yours from his waist and hold them at your side pushing you back down into the mattress with one hand.

Pulling your hands above your head he holds them with one hand bruising strength and began to rub his cloth covered cock against your slick pussy. The juices soaking into his boxer briefs, he groans putting his chin to his chest looking down at your soaked panties. He licks his lips looking back at your face; a soft whimper passes your lips at that predatory look.

“You gonna let me fill you huh?” You felt your lower abdomen quiver at his words thick with his Brooklyn accent when he lost himself in his lust.

“Yeah you want it,” he muttered letting go of your waist slipping into your underwear to rub your clit with his thumb. You arched your back up crying out hands jerking against his hold but when he applied pressure you stilled.

“Please,” You half gasped out at his attention, his pressure light and slow almost torturous.

“Please what?” He smirked down at you.

“I want to cum, please.”

“You’re gonna have to do better than that.” He began to increase the pressure of his thumb

“Please Captain make me cum,” you began to rotate your hips. “I want to cum, I want your cum.” Steve groaned and increased his pressure on your clit, letting go of your wrists to rip your underwear off with minimal effort and shoves two fingers into your slick heat pressing his palm against your clit.

You nearly screamed out, the sensation too much as he began a brutal pace. Your head began to toss back and forth on the bed his attentions sending rippling pleasure up and down your body.

“You want to cum?” He taunted, leaning over you. You nodded your head not able to say yes as you moaned louder, a tightening feeling spreading in your lower abdomen.

“Not yet,” he pulls his hands away from you and you sob out loud, your legs flailing in anger at his denial. Without another word he grips your throat and you still, your legs resting over his thighs.

“Such a good little slut,” he praised and you couldn’t help the feeling of pride that washed over you at his words.

“You’re gonna be good for me right?” You muttered a yes.

“Gonna take my cock, gonna let me fill you up? Be such a good doll for me right?” You felt your head fog with lust at his words.

“Yes Captain,” You whimper out pushing your pelvis down on his.

“I love it when you call me that.” He growled out.

Steve spurred into action; pulling down his boxer briefs until completely off. Pushing your thighs wide apart he gripped the base of his cock, trailing the head up and down your slit enjoying the way his precum and your juices made the head glisten. He shifted up to standing on his knees pulling your waist with him your lower half up in the air. The height different bending you at the neck.

“Tell me if it’s too much okay?” You nodded meekly as you whimper feeling the head of his cock press into you.

When he thrusts himself into you regardless of your arousal and preparation there was that delicious burn of stretching. You both cry out, your hands gripping at the air as he holds your hips still with both hands. “What’s wrong baby girl?” he taunted.

“So full,” you gasped out, trying to rotate your hips but his grip was too firm. He tutted your attempts as he slowly pulled himself out then slammed back in causing you to cry out again as your body went limp with pleasure. He chuckled at your cries and set a punishing pace.

“Who do you belong to?” He grunts out between closed teeth, his brow furrow.

“You,” Voice hoarse from the over use and bent neck.

“Who?” A hand lets go of your waist and two fingers begin to run circles around and gently pinch your clit. You feel the deliria of pleasure start to settle in, almost missing his question.

“I belong to you Steve,” he stilled “Captain” You all but gasp out, he leans over your prone body peppering kisses on any skin he can reach, continuing his assault on your over worked slick pussy.

He groans pulling you from him only to flip you onto your stomach as if you were light as air. He sat back on his heels pulling your waist over his lap. Your legs wrapped behind him on reflex, hands stretched out on the bed in front of you, his cock slowly pushing back into you.

“You drive me crazy,” he mutters out, a hand on your lower back guiding your ass back and forth on him. You faintly hear him growling his eyes entranced at the sight of his cock slipping in and out of your sopping wet pussy.

Your eyes shut tightly the sensation of his slow intrusion sending shocks up and down your body settling into the tightening of your lower abdomen. Steve hand snakes down below you, rubbing your clit quickly to offset his leisure pace. You arch your back down with a sob, the sensation too much you shutter around him losing yourself to the release of pleasure.

He grunts feeling you spasm around him setting his pace back up in tempo, pounding into you with strength that would certainly leave bruises. “Cum in me,” You coo, your body jerking against the bed at his thrusting. He nearly howls at the words his body seizing up, his pelvis flush to your ass cheeks filling you at your request.

It took a while before either of you caught your breaths enough to move. He pulls his semi hard cock out of you. You couldn’t control the way your hips push back, primal need to always feel him. He would have normally chuckled at your actions but he’s mesmerized by his cum leaking out of your bright red pussy.

“Oh no no,” his finger push the dripping cum back in, you releasing soft whimper from your lips at the feel of his fingers pushing on the overworked flesh.

He twisted his hand pushing his palm against your clit, his fingers still inside of you keeping his cum inside as he began to rub his palm against your clit causing your back to arch back down again a deep moan pulling from your lips. He placed his other hand on the back of your neck sending you down the path to orgasmic bliss once again.

-

Steve felt consciousness slowly start to filter in as the morning sun began to shine in the room; he reached over for you but frowned when he found nothing but crumpled sheets. Opening his eyes he slowly sat up, his senses returning after a late night of his favorite activity. Smelling bacon he licked his lips standing up with a stretch.

He spotted across the room that you had set out his favorite sweat pants on a reading chair. Deciding it was time to find you he worked towards getting pants on so he could hunt you and the bacon down.

You danced naked underneath the apron to a song stuck in your head. Your hair up in a messy bun as it was unsalvageable to be down anymore after last night. You felt your thighs clench at the thought of everything the two of you did. Returning you focus to cooking you flipped over the bacon wondering when the birthday boy would wake up.

Strong muscular arms looped around the front of your waist, the other cupped a breast gently pulling you back into warm uncovered chest.

“What are you wearing or rather aren’t wearing,” he rough scratch in his voice made you push your thighs together once more.

“You asked for naked the whole time.” You remind him, pushing the bacon with your spatula. He hummed in appreciation, rutting his morning erection against your back side.

“So I did,”The hand on you breast snaking in the valley between your breast to gently wrap around your throat pulling you head to the side he began to kiss along your  neck.

He pulls his sweat pants down enough to pull his cock out. He dips his hips low to be able to rub his cock between your ass cheeks chuckling as you wiggle against him.

“Steve…” A soft gasp escapes your lips while you throw a hand behind you reaching up to grip the nape of his neck. “The bacon.”

“You can still finish the bacon don’t worry.” His hands wrap around your waist lifting you up just enough to nudge the head of his cock between your wet lips. When your body betrayed you jerking at the slight pain on over used flesh, he pulls away but your feet hook around his calf anchoring yourself.

“No I want it,”

“Doll” His voice full of concern.

“I like it when it hurts,” Your confession earning a groan from Steve against the back of your neck, “You’re gonna be the death of me.” Sliding you down until you were at the root he gently bit your neck moving one arm to warp around your lower abdomen keeping you tight against him.

You are panting head thrown back as you try to focus on anything but the searing feeling of him so deeply inside you once again.

“Don’t forget about the bacon.” Steve murmurs against your neck before he starts to draw patterns on your skin with his tongue, you shake your head looking down at the close to burning bacon.

Quickly you take it out of the pan, leaning just slightly over to pull new bacon into the pan, a whimper pushing past your lips at the shift of him inside you at the movement. Steve flexes his hips panting against your neck. Your head feels fuzzy trying to focus almost impossible with him sitting so deep in you. The telling tightening and need for release growing with each second he stayed within you.

“Finish our breakfast doll,” His voice barely above a whisper giving away that this was driving him just as crazy.

Once the bacon was finished you turn the burner off and barely have a chance to put the last of the bacon on the plate before Steve turns the both you around pushing your chest down on the marble kitchen island. He swirls his pelvis groaning out between ragged breaths.

“It’s almost unbearable to be surrounded by your tight pussy and not do anything,” He smacks your ass causing you to clench around him with a soft cry. That is what sets him off. He rears his hips back nearly completely out of you and slams right back into you with so much force you’d certainly have a bruise later along your thighs from the island marble.

He began pounding away into you with abandon, groaning out your name intermittently like a mantra. The sensations were too much for your overworked body, crying out his name you spasm around him. Steve’s steady pace became jerky his fingers pressing tightly into your flesh as he filled you once more, his forehead dropping  to  your shoulder gently biting at your sweaty flesh riding out his orgasm.

Laying the side of your face on the cool marble you try to cool yourself down as hot puffs of air escaping your lips with Steve panting into your skin.

“Happy Birthday Steve.” You can feel his lips upturn against you neck. “Best one yet and the days not even over.” Barely a mumble against your skin.  

[venusmages]

Cyberpunk 2077 non-spoiler review

Anyways here’s my writeup about my least favorite parts of 2077 for people who are interested in seeing if it’s for them. Both going to talk about content as well as gameplay. This is for PC version, too, because I know last gen consoles are suffering terribly rn and I wouldn’t recommend the game if you’re not going to be playing on PC. At least not until it’s on sale or the issues have been resolved. It really, really shouldn’t have been released on last gen consoles at all in my opinion - or at least should’ve been released on consoles LATER.

If you like Saints Row, GTA, Mass Effect, Shadowrun, or the Cyberpunk genre in general - I definitely think this is something you might want to take a peek at! I wasn’t anticipating the game until about a month or two before release - so maybe that’s why I’m having a blast - but It’s one of my favorite stories from the past decade as far as sci-fi goes. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it, and It’s really impressed me. I can’t even go into detail about all the things I LOVE because I really want folks to experience it themselves. Just know there’s a very intricately detailed world, all the characters are memorable and insanely well realized and complex, and the story is great fun. Also made me cry like 5 times. It’s become one of my FAVORITE games very quickly.

I’d also recommend Neon Arcade if you want someone who’s been covering the game for quite a while, including the technical and game industry aspect. He does well to go into some detail and even though he’s a fan, I’ve found him to be largely unbiased. I’m not going to go into industry politics here because I feel that’s up for everyone to decide on their own terms.

No spoilers, things to keep in mind, content warnings, etc. below!

CONTENT WARNINGS and issues with plot/story

this setting is dark. very dark. if you struggle stomaching things like dystopian landscapes, body horror, physical, mental and sexual abuse, corporate and gang violence, abuse of children, harsh language, and concepts that mess with the perception of reality - this game might not be for you. It’s a very mature setting, and I don’t mean that in the Adult Swim kind of way. I mean it in the ‘oh shit, it went there’ way. In my opinion I haven’t run across anything in it that was handled distastefully when it dipped into the depressing, but dark and gritty isn’t everyone’s cup of tea and I wanted to give a disclaimer.

The game’s universe in advertising and working for the lower class also exploits sex/sex work quite a bit. This is part of the lore itself because in this universe everyone’s become desensitized to sex and violence to the point that marketing embraces it and makes it ridiculous. I feel it’s very obvious that it doesn’t condone this message and is instead a commentary on consumerism - but people still might be uncomfortable seeing a lot of suggestive stuff all over the place regardless. 

Women in game are naked more often than men - even though there is nudity for both. This is likely a mix of appealing to the Gamer Boy demographic (even though the story does NOT actually), or the fact that media is way more cool with seeing naked women than seeing full frontal nudity on men. They probably had to tone some of it down to avoid going above an M rating. 

The story is amazing, but sometimes it dumps a lot onto you at once. It’s one of those sci-fi stories that you have to really be following the names, faces, and concepts continually to get it all down. There’s a lot of betrayal, background players, etc. I think by the mid-way point I’d mostly had it, but It’s pretty dense. However it’s still amazing. You might just need two playthroughs before every tiny detail clicks - because there’s a LOT of details. 

Honestly I think it would help to read up on the lore first so you’re not going ‘what’ constantly. But people have seemed to manage fine without that also! Neon Arcade has a really nice series of videos (like 2 or 3) that get you up to speed with the universe. It also helps you decide if the tone is right for you. 

I think the main story should’ve been longer, also. I don’t mind a 20 hr story, especially in a massive RPG, but It feels like they really struggled to cram as much into that time frame as possible. It skirts the edge of being nice and concise, snappy, and tight - and needing just a few more moments to take a breath and wait a second. This is helped if you do a lot of side quests.

The straight male romance option, River, is INCREDIBLY well written but he doesn’t tie into the main plot in any way whatsoever. It’s very strange and feels like they either ran out of time with him, or slapped together a romance with him at the last second. All the other romances at least know what’s going on with V’s story - meanwhile River has no idea, and you can never tell him. He’s an amazing guy though and I highly recommend his questline. He appears in ACT 2.

In general I’d say not to bother with the romances. There are only 4 total, and while the romancible characters on their own are really well written, the romances themselves are just kinda meh. One romance you don’t even meet until act 3. I don’t think they should’ve been included in the game at all, because they definitely don’t feel as fleshed out as everything else. 

CDPR also sometimes forget that women players or gay men exist. Panam and Judy have a lot more content than River and Kerry for example. I don’t think this is intentional, they just have a large fanbase of dudebros. It only shows in the romance content and the nudity thing though.

Johnny, Takemura, and Claire should’ve been romances and I will fight to the death on that. 

There are gay and trans characters in the game and their stories don’t revolve around their sexualities. It’s very Fallout: New Vegas in it’s approach to characters: IE. you’re going to love them. All of them. 

V’s gender isn’t locked to their body type or their genitals- but to to their voice. I don’t think it’s the best solution they could’ve used but given how the game is heavily voice acted I assume that was what they had to work with. 

Some of the romances are locked to both cis voices AND body types (not genitals if I recall but body shapes). That’s disappointing but I assume it was because of scripted scene issues and/or ignorance on the dev’s part considering the LGBT NPCS are so AMAZINGLY done. There’s no homophobic or transphobic language in the game - though there are gendered curse words and insults if that bothers you. 

Some characters MAY suffer from ‘bilingual people don’t talk like that’ syndrome. But it can be hard to say for sure given that translators exist in this universe and the way they operate aren’t fully described. It’s only momentarily distracting, not enough to take away from how charming the NPCs are.

The endings are really good don’t get me wrong but I want fix it fic :(. All of the endings out of like 6 (?) in the game are bittersweet. 

Both gender V’s are very good but female V’s voice acting is out of this world. If you don’t know what voice to go with/are neutral I’d highly recommend female V. Male V is charming and good but he feels much more monotone compared to female V. 

V has their own personality. To some this won’t be a detractor - but a lot of people thought they’d be making absolutely everything from the ground up. V is more of a commander shepard or geralt than a skyrim or d&d pc, if that makes sense. You can customize and influence them to a HUGE degree, some aspects of V will always be the same.

Streetkid is the most boring background - at least for it’s introduction/prologue.

GAMEPLAY/TECHNICAL

If you can run your game on ultra, don’t. It actually looks best with a mix of high and medium settings. Unless you have a beast that has ray-tracing - then by all means use ray tracing and see how absolutely insanely good it looks.

There are color blind modes for the UI, but not for some of the AI/Netrunning segments in cutscenes. Idk how much this will effect folks with colorblindness but those segments are thankfully short. 

There was an issue with braindances being an epilepsy trigger because for some reason they decided to mirror the flashing pattern after real epilepsy tests - probably because it ‘looks cool’. I don’t have epilepsy but it even hurt my eyes and gave me a headache. Massive oversight and really goddamn weird. Thankfully this was fixed.

There is no driving AI. Like at all. If you leave your car in the street the traffic is just going to pile up behind it. It’s one of the very few immersion breaking things I’ve encountered.

Sometimes when an NPC is driving with you in the car, they’ll drive on the curb and/or run into people. It’s kind of funny but can occasionally result in something weird. Feels very GTA  - but nothing excruciating. 

The camera angle feels a little too low in first person mode when driving on cars. You get used to it though. 

The police in this game feel slapped on and I hope they improve it. Right now if you commit a crime, you can never tell what will actually trigger it. And if you just run away a few blocks the police forget about it. 

Bikes are just way more fun to ride than the cars are. 

You CANNOT respec your character after you make them. Ever. it sucks. Go in with an idea ahead of time what you wanna do - it’s better than being a jack of all trades.

as of now you also CANNOT change their appearance after you exit the character creator. This, also, sucks. Make sure you REALLY like your V or you’re gonna be replaying the openings over and over like I did. 

Photomode on PC is the N key. Had to look it up. The mode itself is great though

Shooting and Mele fighting feel pretty standard. I don’t have a lot of shooter experience besides Bethesda games so anything feels better than that to me. So far I’ve enjoyed stealth and mele the best, but that’s just my own taste! The combat and driving aren’t groundbreaking by any means, but they’re still very fun. I look forward to running at people with swords or mantis blades, and zipping around the city on a motorcycle to see the sights. The story, lore, and interesting quests and characters are the real draw here.

I haven’t encountered any game breaking bugs in 80-ish hours of play time. One or two T-poses, a few overlays not loading or floating objects - but nothing terrible. Again, my experience is with Bethesda games. This is all usually fixed by either opening your inventory and closing it again, or exiting out and reloading your save. 

The C button is mapped for crouching AND skipping dialogue by default. That’s terrible. Change it in the settings to be HOLDING C skips dialogue and you’ll be gucci.

There’s apparently a crafting system. I have never been inclined to touch it. But I also play on easy like a pleb so IDK how it all scales otherwise.

The mirror reflections can be a little bit weird, at least on my end. They always end up a teeny bit grainy despite my computer being able to run everything on Ultra Max. You can still get good screens out of it though!

So many people text me to sell me cars and I want them to stop. Please. also the texting menu is abysmal. The rest is ok tho

It’s pretty clear when you’re going to go into a ‘cutscene’. all cutscenes are rendered in-engine BUT you often will be talking to other characters at a specific angle or setting. The game locks you into this usually by having you sit down. It works for me - after all we do a lot of sitting- but it IS very obvious that it’s a way for the game to get you in the frame it wants to display.

That’s all I can think of rn! If you’re interested but wanted to get a slightly better idea of whats going on, I hope this helps. I’m really enjoying it and despite my issues it’s exceeding my expectations. I’m going to be thinking about and replaying this game for quite a while. 

[secretradiobrooklyn]

Shroud of Pigeon | 12.5.20

Secret Radio | 12.5.20 | Hear it here.

1. Yos Olarang - title unknown

This is a real score in my book. Generally known as Yol Aularon, this guy is Cambodia’s greatest rock musician, turning out garage rock that knows no equal in America or anywhere else, in my opinion. I tracked down this song on a tape attributed to “Yol Aularon” which includes his big hit, “Cyclo,” but also this song which I haven’t heard on any other collections. Honestly, though, I may yet run across it in a prominent collection, because I have no way of figuring out the title — every bit of the text I can find is in Cambodian. In any case, we LOVE this track! It’s almost like a catalog of Olarang’s laughs: there’s a merry snort, a giggle, and a malevolent cackle all built into the melody. I believe he’s the blazing lead guitarist as well. It’s just such a perfect gem of pure rock energy.

2. Gedou - “Scent” (I think)

Speaking of pure rock energy — DAMN, SAM! This was our introduction to Gedou, a blasting burst of Japanese glam rock whose costumes match the sounds you hear here. These guys were only originally active from ’73-’76, and then got back together sporadically after that; I believe this is from that original lineup. It’s well worth it to check the live video that this comes from. It’s an electric thrill just to see them leaning back to back, singing into the same mic, doing kicks and losing their minds in shining kimonos and silk hiphuggers. It feels like a Japanese MC5 whose wardrobe directly influenced David Bowie. One note I read says that they were popular with Japanese biker gangs at the time — and there are certainly bikes aplenty in the video. I’m looking forward to finding out more about the impact they had in Japan, and whether they made an impression in the rest of the world. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uHfBhJsqrD8

3. Clothilde - “Saperlipopette”

What a strange little slab of chamber pop! Clothilde was barely even a one-hit wonder in France — she released two 45s in 1967 and, as far as I know, that was it. But what a song! It’s like a vanful of pop records crashed into a classical instrument shop. I especially dig the xylophone or whatever that is back there — hardly necessary given the hyperactive harpsichord, but it takes the poppy flavor right over the top. So many bands have tried to get to this level of fizz, but I’ve never heard it succeed like this!

- King Kong - “Ten Long Years”

Slint is one of indie rock’s most unimpeachably cool bands, which makes the silliness of King Kong all the more endearing. Band leader Ethan Buckler was the original bassist in Slint, and all of the Slint lineup got into the act at one point or another. In 1995 Drag City released King Kong’s “Me Hungry,” a sort of funky concept album about a caveman, his yak, and an inhospitable world. Sean Nelson and I spent many not-sober nights enjoying that record — “I push em out, I push em out” — and got to see them play the Crocodile Cafe. I definitely remember appreciating how groovy King Kong was, like Neanderthal B-52s. Butler even looked a bit like a shaved caver. 

4. Star Feminine Band - “Femme Africaine”

Born Bad is our new favorite label, right up there with Analog Africa. They’re based in France, and release music both archival and new. Star Feminine Band is based in Benin, home to so much of our favorite music. It’s definitely worth watching the video for this song just to see how young and full of potential the girls in the band are. They were assembled in a School of Rock sort of situation, taught to play instruments and encouraged to write lyrics. The lyrics of this song are so directly uplifting it’s enough to put a lump in the throat. Meanwhile, the music is such a pleasure to listen to! The whole album is full of good stuff, but this song is pretty much their theme song. It translates to: 

“Oh woman, African woman

Oh woman, Beninese woman

Black woman, get up, don't sleep

You can become president of the republic

You can become prime minister of the country

Get up, something must be done

African woman, be independent

The country needs us, go to school

Africa needs you, you have to work

The world needs us, let's stand up we'll defend

African woman, be independent”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bdDp6VAXXbk

5. Young Signorino - “Mmh Ha Ha Ha”

A few years ago a friend posted the video for this song on FB with a note that was like, “Ever see something you should hate but you can’t stop watching?” I watched it, watched it again… and watched it again. It eventually slipped out of my mind, but I was thrilled to remember it the other day in the context of WBFF. The song’s language, such as it is, is Italian, but it also just fits perfectly into the post-language mix that has been turning our cranks lately. I’m really glad to get a chance to present it here first as a piece of music, because the video really affects the experience. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K9bf4PT-aEk

6. Yura Yura Teikoku - ゆらゆら帝国で考え中  “Yura Yura Keikoku de Kangaechuu” (I think?)

This is another sweet find in a broadcast full of em! Yura Yura Teikoku is a trio formed in 1989 and have a huge rep in Japan as a psychedelic band, but apparently by 2000 they were crafting super-awesome pop songs that rocked hard. The video of this song features a singer with adorably mussed hair and a striped shirt against an orange background, looking super hip and on top of the world. From what I’ve read they were gigantic in Japan but utterly unknown outside, which changed a bit when they played New York in 2007 and again a year later, to packed houses. But that didn’t seem to do the trick, and they finally broke up in 2010. They have several good songs from this period, but this one, from a three-song 45, is the one that has hooked us the hardest so far. We can’t seem to find out even what the song title is, but as far as I can tell the band’s name translates to The Wobbling Empire, and the song title is “Thinking in the Wobbling Empire.” It’s bizarre to us that this kind of hip tight rock didn’t find a way into the bigger world… but I guess singing in Japanese was the deciding factor. Really glad to have uncovered it though!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M9CM44MohAs

7. Can - “Mother Sky”

I know a lot of bigger Can fans than me, but this track has so much of what we love in the drones, the freakouts, the lockdowns, the Engl-ish vocals, the long climb towards the climax… it feels sometimes like flying, sometimes like swimming, sometimes like burrowing deeper and deeper downwards.

8. Señor Coconut - “Showroom Dummies”

Can and Kraftwerk share enough DNA that they seem like a natural pairing. But… Señor Coconut’s version of this classic track of “Trans-Europe Express” is honestly my preferred version of the song. It sounds so sincere and strange, and I find myself thinking about the lives of mannequins even as I also hear the palm leaves switching in the breeze. The album “El Baile Aleman” — “German Dance” — was released in 1999, and apparently Kraftwerk was fine with it. Thank goodness. 

- Lithics - “A Highly Textured Ceiling”

Every time I hear this track I think of Six Finger Satellite’s “The Pigeon Is the Most Popular Bird,” a crucial album for me. I learned about all of these tones for the first time from that record. I’ma write more about this band in a sec, when they show back up. 

9. Schwervon! - “American Idle” 

Years ago Mike Appelstein hipped us to Schwervon!, a two-piece band who were about to make the opposite journey of our own eventual path, moving from NYC to Missouri — in their case Kansas City. They turned out to be lovely individuals and an instant favorite band, and we hosted them whenever they came through STL. Their album “Courage” plays like a lost ’90s classic, and “American Idle” is one of the best tracks on there. The production of the album, by Matt Mason, is straight-up enviable. As is so often the case, good people have good friends, and they led us to Jeffrey Lewis, who has been a pleasure to get to know better since we made our own way east last year. I don’t think Matt and Nan are writing songs together anymore, but we’re glad that they did. 

10. Boney M. - “Rasputin”

I saw this song peeking at me from my computer now and then, but didn’t check it out til recently. What a complete banger! The lyrics are absolutely fantastic — “Rah! Rah! Rasputin, Russia’s greatest love machine, it was a shame how he carried on!” — but so is the production… and the video, for that matter. Apparently this was a hit track in 1978. I’ve spent most of my life avoiding disco, though, so I had no idea. I love how the narrative weight shifts from the lead male voice to the chorus voices. It’s such a strange read of Rasputin’s life and death — the unkillable Casanova of Russia!

11. Rafaella Carrá - “Festa”

Did I mention that I used to hate disco? Well, this is my big comeup. We’ve been dabbling in disco on WBFF here and there, but this pairing is meant strictly for the dancefloor! This is the original Italian version, but Carrá became a massive hit in Spain and recorded most of her songs in Spanish as well. Obviously, the Spanish influence is strong in this song’s amazing flamenco claps and trumpet passages. 

12. T.P. Orchestre Poly-Rythmo de Cotonou Benin et Loko Pierre - “Djo Mi Do”

There’s nowhere to go from disco but back to our prime fascination: Tout Puissant! This album is a collaboration with saxophonist Loko Pierre, and every track hits hard. But this track’s chorus, “djo mi do, djo mi do!” is such a gotdamn hook! This band continues to surprise and reward the deeper we dig into their catalog, and I feel like we’re still just getting started. So funky and fresh every time.

The chorus makes me think of a song we first heard on KDHX about a decade ago — “Dominos,” by The Big Pink. I really liked the hook of the song but loathed the cold-blooded lyrics, so I found myself hating it. You know how it is. I’m really glad to find a song that can replace it in my head — and it’s a way better song!

13. Bruno Leys - “Hallucinations”

Credit to Born Bad records once again for this song. It’s a true rarity. Bruno Leys fell in with some fellow students in Paris in 1967 including a guy named Emmanuel Pairault, who was obsessed with an instrument called the ondes Martenot, which is a very very early electronic instrument that works a little like a theremin — though it’s played by wearing a ring on one finger and sliding it along a wire, depressing the wire to change the note — but has a crazy range of sounds. The instrumental hook in this song, as well as the backing notes, are on the onde Martenot. Leys co-wrote and recorded four songs with the band, they got signed up with a label, released a 7”, then he had to leave for compulsory military service… and by the time he got back two years later there was no band and no label. The 7” was practically unobtainable til this year, when Born Bad records finally released it anew. I hope Leys is still alive to appreciate that it finally made its way into the world!

- The Psycheground Group - “Psycheground”

14. Troubadour Dali - “Spirit of ’67”

Oh, Troubadour… Sleepy Kitty shared a label with Troubadour Dali for several years, and we were big fans of their whirling swirling psychedelia. They had a couple of chicks (I think they’d approve of the word) projecting old-school colored oil-and-water light effects on the band, and when they were on, they looked and felt like the greatest band in the land. Troubadour went through an impressive number of players over the years, and there was generally some sort of drama or mayhem going on — not too surprising for a band who loved Brian Jonestown Massacre. The main songwriter was a lanky, handsome fella named Ben, though there were also great songs by Kevin and, every once in a great while, a powerful contribution by a quiet, snappy dresser named Benjamin. Benjamin apparently put this recording together entirely on his own. When he showed it to the band they flipped out — it’s obviously a winner — and they quickly got together a live version of it. Man, it tore the house down every time. At some point, though, in the midst of some of that drama, Benjamin started to kind of slip sideways out of the band. As they were finishing up their second full length, he declined to let the band record this song, or to make the demo available, despite their pleas. Eventually they went forward without it, and I don’t know what happened to Benjamin but I do know that Paige happened to rediscover her copy of “Spirit of ‘67″ recently, tucked into a stack of burned CDs. We’re very glad to get to drop this very special song into this secret radio mix.

- The Psycheground Group - “Psycheground”

Rare Italian instrumental noodles from the mid ’70s.

15. The Velvet Underground - “After Hours”

*Not ruined. Affected, but not ruined. She said so. 

16. Jean Cussac in “Le Livre de la Jungle” - “Etre un homme comme vous”

One musical adventure we’ve really enjoyed is checking out familiar musicals in unfamiliar tongues. And though you may not think of Disney’s “Jungle Book” as a musical, you’d be mistaken. This version of “I Want to Be Like You” is a particular delight. It plays straight with the original, but the presence of the French language inflects the rhythms with a Parisian flavor that I’d never noticed before.

17. Duch Kim Hak - “Neary Sok Khley”

Another hit from the Cambodian treasure chest. Paige noted as we listened the first time, “This one has good chords,” and we took to referring to it as Cambodian ska. I think it’s meant to be a simple twist song, but there’s a royal quality to the chords that really puts it above a straightforward dance novelty. And his vocal delivery is ace!

18. The Fall - “Terry Waite Sez”

Not much needed on this one! This is one in a host of classics from 1986’s “Bend Sinister.” The Brix E. period of The Fall is just the BEST. 

19. Twiggy - “When I Think of You”

Paige: “I was made aware of this record by The Deccas [a band she briefly sang with in Chicago]. They knew every single girl group song that had ever been recorded. This was the same band where the guy who was obsessed with Scott Walker and looked like him and his house was very /60s and he had a word processor. I didn’t even know what a word processor was. That’s unrelated to this song though. She’s one of the great singing models — and maybe next week we’ll play another one. There are three known.”

- Psycheground Group - “Psycheground”

20. Hallelujah Chicken Run Band - “Alikulila” 

SO happy to have this album on vinyl at last! It was just released in this format, and Analog Africa is always so good at including notes about the album’s genesis. These guys are from Zambia, and they pioneered the translation of mbira parts into guitar parts, while writing these amazing songs that I’ve never heard anything like. Except for one. One of their songs sounds a bit like a Bound Stems song. Which is weird, because obviously we’d never heard them when we wrote “Cloak of Blue Sky.” It just proves to me that they were both way ahead of their time and working in an idiom that could and should be hit music today. It sounds so alive and creative and insightful, like good indie rock should. 

21. Lithics - “Snake Tattoo / Twisting Vine”

Lithics is one of my favorite contemporary bands. They played Foam in St. Louis like five years ago, right after I’d discovered their existence via the excellent album “Borrowed Floors.” Foam was a tiny little club that fit maybe 50 people and was sure to go apeshit for this show. I was SO psyched to be there… but the night of, we couldn’t get out because we were staying out in the Illinois woods and it was snowing enough to make the return trip too treacherous. As much as that’s one of the main shows of my life I wish I’d seen, I’m glad that Brad got to see them and tell me about it later. I hope I can catch them in NYC.

22. Sunny Blacks Band - “Mission spéciale”

OK, I admit that I’m obsessed with Melome Clement — or Meloclem, as he is known by some in Benin. He’s the composer of hundreds of T.P. Orchestre songs, and I’ve written about him a ton. I know he plays some horns and I believe he plays the slashing guitar that you hear in this track. I don’t think that’s him singing but I’m not sure; his voice is very malleable. Sunny Blacks Band is the group he was playing with when the T.P. Orchestre guys found him. It’s hard music to track down, but I love how much it rocks — or “jerks,” as they said at the time. We’ve also played the track “Holonon Die” on here and it jerks too, with an extended, wild electric guitar solo over pulsing trap and hand drums. What a freakin powerhouse Meloclem is.

23. Betti-Betti - “La Vie de Bettie Bettie Chanteuse Camerounaise”

This recording is a beautiful mystery. It appears in a film called “Badiaga,” which I encountered while looking for music by Betti-Betti, a superstar within her nation of Cameroon. This comes from one of the final scenes in the movie. There are different summations of the film (we don’t understand the language of the film itself), but apparently the story is “inspired by” the story of Betti-Betti, who was discovered as a child wandering in a marketplace, brought up extremely poor and eventually sang (a cappella?) on the radio, whereupon she became an instant success. She played constant shows and played with many of the region’s heaviest hitters, including T.P. Orchestre (they recorded an album together, which is how we found out about her). As for this recording — I don’t know if this is sung by Betti-Betti or by the actress playing her. And I don’t know the male character singing alongside her, though I’m guessing he’s a real-life music figure himself. It’s a beautiful duet, rich with feeling, and the performance footage throughout the movie is electrifying. 

P.S. This film is also how I found out about Eko Roosevelt, whose “Me To a Dey My Own” is an epic upbeat number we’ve played on WBFF!

24. Guided By Voices - “The Goldheart Mountaintop Queen Directory”

A perfect song, meant for the opposite of social distancing: to be sung full-bore in a crowd with one’s arms slung around sweating strangers, straight into the face of the band (I’ll be the one hooting the recorder part). This is how legends are made. 

 - Janko Nilovic & Soul Surfers - “Maze of Sounds”

I love the bass part on this album as much as the album artwork, which we will surely have included somewhere around here. This guy’s story is pretty interesting: he was born in Istanbul to a Montenegrin father and Greek mother, and his career started by working with French singer Davy Jones (but not THAT Davy Jones) in 1967. He got into recording for sound libraries, working in soul and funk and psych music, gained a serious composing rep and eventually, maybe inevitably, his music started getting sampled by the likes of Dr. Dre and Jay Z. Not bad, not bad!

25. Gnonnas Pedro et Ses Dadjes - “La Musica en Verité”

Maybe someday we’ll release the version of this song that we recorded in the early days of the pandemic. This is the final track (if not the final song) on the immortal “Legends of Benin” album on Analog Africa. My favorite aspect is how the guitar plays the same mesmerizing piece throughout, but the percussion evolves over the course of the song until it has gradually changed completely. It’s a subtle dynamic but it’s a master clinic in how to run a drone song the right way. Also, that organ part is just beautiful.

[joaquinbumblebee24]

Onslaught 2/11

It was a beautiful June day, House was riding his motorcycle around the university.  He was thinking through everything that would probably go wrong in the Philippines, what if there was a typhoon?  During his time in the country, there have been three significant storms, one of which was called Monang. He had recalled the thunder;  lightning and the wind.

House hated the wind most; he hated the electric fans at home. Wilson had a fan in the study that he hated. The sound of it and how the fan felt was greeting on his nerves.

He parked the motorcycle at a park near PPTH. The team had no case. It was a frustrating day After Cuddy had browbeaten him into working the clinic.  House was sent plenty of mothers and their kids. The crying got to his nerves; he told a parent that his son wasn’t dying rather unkindly.  Cuddy was called;  she had reprimanded him for being callus in front of the father. As he stormed out of the exam room, Cuddy’s words echoed. “He can’t control himself.”

“Control yourself, Rory.” His mother’s voice played in his ears. House slammed that thought out of his mind. The fact was he couldn't change the fact that he was autistic, even if he wanted to.

“Penny for your thoughts?” House was startled by Wilson’s words. He turned around. “I heard about the incident in the clinic; You alright?” Wilson’s voice resonated in House’s ear.

He sometimes hated that he and Wilson had been best friends before turning their relationship romantic. Wilson knew him very well. House nodded. “It wasn’t fair.” He knew he sounded childish, however, he didn’t care.

“I know.” Wilson just smiled. “So you ran from the hospital to the apartment,  got your bike, rode it.”

“Yes, did Cuddy called you?”

Wilson shook his head.  "No, I heard it from Brenda the clinic nurse.”

“Am I a bad person to say that I want something to go wrong in the Philippines so that I could help?” House asked.

The constant pressure on House to be somewhat normal was taking a toll on him. “We could do Doctors without Borders if you want.”

“You're missing my point, Jimmy.” Said House as he faced Wilson now. “I wished for a distraction, not to create one.”

“Well, yeah. I know what you mean.” Wilson said. “Back to the hospital, or you want to go eat out?”

“Eat out, definitely.”

They loaded the bike to their SUV, It was a Volvo bought by Wilson for its safety features. House thought that it was a boring car.

They headed to dinner at a small pub outside of Princeton. It was an LGBT bar, which was own and operated by Dylan Crandall, House’s friend. They ordered the usual, House loved their Rubin sandwiches, for he could order it dry without pickles. He’d been a picky eater all his life.

“Where’s Dylan?” House asked a waiter.

The waiter sighed. “Crandall is out picking Leona from NYU.”  

House resumed eating his sandwich. Meanwhile, Wilson ordered BLT. He was aware that Wilson was watching him. “What?”

“Is it just me or you looked handsome today; In your gray jeans and a rolling stones shirt? ” Wilson said, as he looked House over.

House rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I know, you like objectifying your spouse.” They ate the rest of their meal in comfortable silence. After dinner, they shared coffee crumble cake.

House wondered outside; while Wilson paid the bill. The diagnostician was deep in thought;  as the parking lot of Crandall’s.

Wilson halted his pace. “Greg? You alright?” Wilson knew not to worry about the pacing, it’s just stimming. House nodded, Wilson led him in their car.

Once in the comfort of the car, Wilson asked. What’s on your mind, You know you’re a bit distracted?”

House wanted to lie, but Wilson would deduce it out of him. “I overheard Cameron and Hadley talking about my birthday. Wilson could certainly guest the meaning of that statement. “Don’t talk to them. it’s my business, not yours.” Wilson nodded.

They drove back, while they were in the car headed home Wilson asked, “So, what do you want to do on your birthday?”

House sighed, “Monster jam. Then dinner and drinks with you.”

“Of course, your wish is my command,” Wilson said sardonically. He called. ‘Siri’ the car's assistant. “Are there any monster jam shows near Princeton on the eleventh?” House smiled. Siri answered with an affirmative. In Trenton, five o’clock. Wilson booked two tickets.

House didn’t like surprises because he knew needed for what to expect. Wilson always asked him what he wanted to do on his birthday or what he wanted for Christmas.

They arrived home. As soon as House was inside, he kicked his Nike’s AirMax 90’s and went to his piano. While Wilson went to the study to work on House’s infectious disease speech.

***

The next morning while Wilson was working on paperwork, n there was a knock on the door. It was Cameron and Hadley. Wilson had the urge to roll his eyes.

“Dr. Wilson?” Cameron said.

“What can I do for you, lovely ladies?” Wilson said sardonically.

Cameron looked at Hadley, urging her to speak.  “Its House’s birthday next week,” Hadley said. “And we want to surprise him.”

The woman looked at him strangely. “Why?” Hadley asked.

Wilson sighed again. “He doesn’t like surprises.” Cameron quirked an eyebrow. “Don’t go behind his back,” Wilson warned.

Wilson quirked a brow. “Who are ‘we’?”

It was Cameron who said. “Just the two of us, Foreman doesn’t want to be bothered, and Chase said no right away.”

Wilson sighed. Chase knew that House was autistic; House had informed him because he had a meltdown in front of Chase that first year. He told Chase that House hated birthdays. “Please, don’t bother him, girls.”

The women looked at him strangely. “Why?” Hadley asked.

Wilson sighed again. “He doesn’t like surprises.” Cameron quirked an eyebrow. “Don’t go behind his back,” Wilson warned.

“I don’t understand, Dr. Wilson; House hated surprises?” Cameron asked, fishing now.

Wilson peered the outside his office into House’s. “Cameron—“ He halted when he saw House. Cameron and Hadley peaked at the balcony door. House was pacing and muttering on his side of the balcony. “Cameron, Please, don’t surprise him, now shoo.”

The moment Cameron and Hadley left, Wilson went outside to speak with his partner. “Greg? Everything alright?” Wilson asked, preventing House’s pace. House halted; he fished out a paper from his pocket. “Clinic schedule?”

House nodded. “Yeah, Cuddy came earlier, telling me since I would be leaving in a week and a half, I should just work in the clinic. Yeah, that would work.” The last part was said with his bitter sarcasm.

Wilson knew how much House hated the clinic, and his apprehension wasn’t because it was boring. His spouse was reminded of how inadequate he was when dealing with people. “Well, what do you want to do?”

House sighed. “You know, I hate clinic duty, help me with it, Jimmy.”

Wilson smiled. “Yeah, I’ll talk with Cuddy. You have a case?” House nodded.

*** On the eleventh, Wilson woke House up with his guitar, “Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy birthday, dear Greg. Happy birthday to you.” He sang and played the familiar song of greeting.

This was not a surprise for House, who the past 10 years of being together, and six years of marriage;  Wilson always did that for him. “Thank you.” He said automatically.

“I got you something,” Wilson said, handing House a package wrap in blue wrapping paper. “Well, I brought you that cause you might want to play;  while we were on the road.”

House opened the present with gusto. As soon as the gift was opened, he smiled. It was a Martin LX1 travel-size acoustic guitar. “Thank you, Jimmy. I love it, really.” His smile touched his blue eyes.

For someone who hated surprises, the genuine smile was huge. “I made you, your favorite food macadamia nut pancake, go to the breakfast bar before you play your new toy.”

House nodded and left their bedroom with his guitar on his left hand. He sat opposite Wilson on the breakfast bar, they ate in contented silence. After the meal, they went shower.

Wilson had an appointment today in another hospital. Afterward, he and House would be going to Trenton to watch a monster truck rally and dinner at Rafael’s; House’s favorite sit down place.

Wilson drove House to work.

*** House went to his office; after Wilson drop him off at the main entryway to the hospital. He stood near the edge of Wilson and his office’s. Cameron and Hadley were discussing inside; There was a medium-sized box, on top was a chocolate cake.  He finally entered his office.

As soon as he was inside, the two ladies got to their feet and began singing the birthday song. House nearly put his hand in his ear.  The sound greeted on his nerves, like nails in a chalkboard. Unlike Wilson’s tone,  gentle and soothing,  theirs was a little high pitch.

He didn’t saw Chase entered. “Stop it, guys!” He heard Chase yelled, “Look at him. You’re overwhelming him.”

Cameron and Hadley looked at Chase and at House. “What do you know?” Cameron asked, looking at House.

Chase started to speak, however, House had beaten him to it. “I have a sensory processing disorder.” “SPD?” Cameron asked. “That condition is associated with Autism.” House practically saw as the cogs turned in her head.

House ran from his office to the clinic to accomplish his duties, four hours in hell. He texted Wilson. ‘Cameron’s brilliant idea pushed through; I thought you  informed them.’

Then his phone rang,  It was his father. He should turn off his phone. The patient a four-year-old kid with pink eye asked, “Dr. Greg, what’s wrong?”

He loved working with children when the parent wasn’t being insufferable idiots; thinking that their child had ebola if they have simple flu. He answered matter of factly. “My father is bugging me.” His tone invited no questions.

After spending his time in the clinic House went up to his office. A package was laying on his desk. “To House, from Robert Chase,’ it read. House opened it. It was a yoyo, fidget cube and a weighted blanket. He smiled a bit. He won’t thank Chase,  not his style, but he could buy him a lollipop.

At five Wilson entered House’s office. “Hi,” Wilson said shyly.

“Oh, hi,” House said putting his things in his blue backpack; and changing from his lab coat into his jean jacket. “Let’s go!” He said walking to Wilson and giving his spouse a kiss on the lips. “How was your day?” House asked while they walked to their car.

“Boring.”

They headed to watch the monster truck show. While there, Wilson watched House; he looked happy, peaceful even. When his favorite truck came, Gravedigger; House almost squealed in glee. Wilson smiled; He was happy to see Greg happy.

After the show, House and Wilson ate at Rafael’s.

End of Chapter 2

[ubernoxa]

THE DARE

A Guns and Roses Fan Fiction 

Chapter 4: The Hell House

Chapter 4

The morning sun shined through the dark red curtains causing pink light to fill Beth’s room. Unlike most 18 year old’s rooms at the time, there wasn’t a single poster hanging on her baby pink walls. Instead a small cross hung a over her bed, and polaroids of her, Delilah, Mark, and Matt were taped to the back of her closet door out of direct sight. It was Beth’s small action of defiance against her parents.

She had heard a loud truck outside her house early at about 4 in the morning. Beth couldn’t sleep knowing Delilah was out on the strip alone. She tossed and turned all night thinking about how stupid Delilah was to abandon her and stay in line for the bar.

At 4 in the morning she heard someone help Delilah climb through the window. It was a girl’s voice who was probably no older than her that helped her climb through the window.

Beth stayed frozen in bed pretending to sleep as the two girls struggled to open the simple latch. Beth assumes that they must have been drunk, and she was right. They could figure it out by themselves.

“Good morning,” Beth said earning a groan from Delilah who dug her dead deeper into her pillow.

“Come on sleeping beauty time to get up and into the shower. You smell like you haven’t showered in a week!” Delilah groaned at Beth’s comment and pulled the comforter over her head in attempt to hide herself from her problems aka Beth.

Beth let out a loud groan as she pulled Delilah out of her bed and onto the floor. Delilah felt as if her head was going to explode while she let out another groan. She tried to crawl back to the bed, but Beth dragged her by her arm into the bathroom. Beth was panting by the time she finished. She looked at Delilah who had surrendered and was now getting into the shower welcoming the warm water on her sweaty skin.

Beth wondered if Delilah was hung over from however much she drank last night because she was acting like it. Beth prayed that she wasn’t, not wanting to deal with the puking that was soon to come.

Beth wanted to ask Delilah thousands of questions, but she knew she would get nowhere with Delilah’s current state.

Delilah stood with her face directly under the warm shower water. She could feel the mascara, foundation, and the rest of her makeup washing down her face, but she didn’t care. Memories of last night filled her head she and she couldn’t help but smile as at them. She could still feel Duff’s hands and lips on her as they made out. She wanted more.

“Good morning sunshine,” Delilah walked out of the bathroom to hear Beth’s chipper tone.

“Morning!” Delilah replied. Yeah she was mad at Beth, but this wasn’t worth a fight. The only thing coming out of this is more people finding out about last night which is the last thing she wanted.

“Sorry for leaving you last night,” the words flew out of Beth’s mouth.

Delilah froze in place as she heard Beth’s half hearted apology. Was she seriously apologizing? Beth wimped out and left Delilah out to dry alone on the strip. That wasn’t the first time that Beth wimped our, and Delilah knew it wouldn’t be the last.

She had two options. The first option, the one she favored, was to tell Beth off. To scream at her for abandoning her. To say how she always does crap like this. She always wimps out. The second, the one she ended up doing, was to shrug and accept her apology. Delilah didn’t have many friends, and if she lost Beth she was worried she would loose Matt and Mark too.

Beth hopped into the shower annoyed at not receiving an apology from Delilah as well while Delilah went over towards the polaroids that she hid under the bed. She looked through them with a smile crossing her face. The first bunch were of her and Mags dancing during the show, and the rest well...she didn’t remember taking them.

She looked at the one of her and Duff when she tried to escape with the vodka. They were both laughing in the picture. Unknowing to Delilah a huge smile grew on her face, but quickly disappeared when she heard the shower turn off.

Delilah dug through the photos and found one of her and Mags standing by the bar smiling. She couldn’t remember who took the photo or when it was taken, but it was exactly what she needed.

Delilah bolted across the room and threw the rest of her pictures in her bag along with the ‘clothing’ she wore last night.

Delilah threw on one of her lilac dresses that went well below her knees and a pair of black dress shoes.

“I see you are ready to go too!” Beth cheered as she went to grab her purse.

“Hey, you should give this to them and claim you took it. Today is my day off from church duties, so I won’t be stopping by today,” Delilah said handing Beth the picture and grabbing her backpack.

Delilah not hanging out with her on her day off struck Beth as odd. Beth was tasked with helping to cook supper which mean she and Delilah would work together to make time fly by faster while listening to some movie in the background.

“Who is this?”

“A girl who saved me from getting hit on by some guys at the bar. She actually knew someone in the band so we hung out back stage away from the creeps. She is really sweet and actually a good friend,” Delilah opened the door and headed downstairs to leave Beth’s house.

Beth stood frozen in her room. What did she mean by actually a good friend? Delilah was the one who wouldn’t leave when she wanted to go home! Beth wanted to scream at Delilah for the way she insinuated that a random slut that she met at a bar was a better friend than her best friend that she had known her whole life.

————-

Delilah sorted through the photos that were taken that night. There were plenty of her and Mags, a few of the whole group talking, but her favorites were of her and Duff. She could still feel his lips on hers. She sighed as she looked at all the remaining photos. Where was she going to put these. There were like 20 of them, where could she hide them without them easily being found? That’s when it hit her. She had at least 6 bibles in her room, so she grabbed one of the ones she hadn’t touched in ages that was in the bottom of her desk drawer and put the pictures in there one by one.

That’s when she found a number on the back of one of the pictures of her and Mags. She bit her bottom lip as she stared at the number. No one was home, so no one could eavesdrop on her phone call. She took a deep breath as she dialed the phone number.

The phone rang a couple times, but before Delilah went to voicemail someone picked up the phone.

“Hey... it’s Del, I was wondering if I could talk to Mags?” Delilah’s voice was barely auditable and Mags could hear her shaken breath.

“Hey girl what’s up? I was getting worried you wouldn’t call!” Mags smiled once she head Del’s voice. She was relieved to find that her brother’s band hand scared Delilah off.

“You’re awesome, why wouldn’t I call?” Mags smiled as she heard Del’s compliment.

The two of them talked about how their morning was and Mag’s made sure to give Del a couple of pointers on how to easily get rid of a hangover. By now Mags was sitting on the kitchen counter in her apartment playing with the cord that attached her phone to the wall.

“Do you have any plans for today?” Mags was practically praying that she would say no.

“No, not really,” Mags jumped of the counter when she heard her response. She was originally going to help Beth cook all day, but she didn’t want to be anywhere near Beth right now. Mags smiled that her prayer was answered. Maybe Delilah was onto something with this whole praying and Jesus thing?

“Do you wanna go meet up and get something to eat?” The couple of seconds it took for Delilah to answer yes, felt like hours to Mags, but once she said yes Mags was practically jumping for joy.

“Do you want me to pick you up or”

“Oh no, just tell me where to meet you and I can meet you there,” Delilah immediately interrupted in an almost panic. It wasn’t that she couldn’t leave her house when she wanted during the day. It was more of a she would have to explain who Mags was and how she met her which were stories that Delilah didn’t want to share with her parents at the moment, if she was ever going to at all.

So they agreed and a few hours later Delilah locked her bike on a nearby bike rack and walked into the cafe.

Mags immediately spotted Delilah as she walked into the small cafe that they were going to meet in. It was hard to miss her with her brown curly hair flowing down below her shoulders and her flowery lilac dress that hung below her knees. Mags waved Delilah over and noticed the smile grow on her face. She wondered if Delilah was nervous about coming here.

“Hey!” Delilah’s chipper tone filled the table as the two of them quickly began to talk about everything and nothing at the same time. Anyone in the cafe would assume that they were old best friends who hadn’t seen each other and years. It was a bit refreshing for both of them.

“Do you have any plans after this or...”

“No I’m honestly free for the rest of the day. Today is my day off!” Delilah interrupted Mags as she spoke. She also didn’t want to go back home and deal with Beth.

“I gotta drop something off at my brother’s first and you down for some shopping? Unless you want to wear your favorite outfit again to another one of my brother’s gigs.”

“Sounds awesome and the sooner I burn that skirt the better,” Delilah responded earning some giggles from Mags. She wondered if it was weird that she was relieved that Delilah was never going to wear the outfit front the night prior. It’s not that it didn’t look good on her, it was a more of a worry of what people would expect her to be. It was the sad world they lived in where you get judged without even opening your mouth.

They walked the street and Delilah felt more self conscious than she had the night before.

After some time Mags turned towards Delilah who she was now holding hands with to notice her constantly looking left and right afraid to miss a thing.

“Here we are,” Mags pulled her through the doors and up a couple of flights of stairs.

The smell of booze and cheep perfume filled Delilah’s nose as she followed Mags into the small apartment. There appeared to be a couple of rooms, but it was small for having a bunch of guys living in it. Delilah awkwardly stood in the apartment off to the side waiting for Mags to be done with whatever she had to do with her brother. After a couple of minutes of Mags being gone, she decided to start cleaning the beer cans that were scattered across the room. After a couple of minutes of cleaning she heard, “you know you don’t have to do that?” She looked up to see the red head from the night before.

“Yeah, but I don’t mind. Anything is better than awkwardly standing here waiting for Mags to finished whatever she is doing,” Delilah innocently smiled back at the incredibly tired red head that stood in front of her. She truly didn’t mind, anything to help out Mags. He shrugged and Delilah went back to work cleaning up all the empty bottles and trash that filled the rooms. She wondered if they occupants’ apartment was always this filthy.

Axl returned to the main room and cleaned with the brunette. He didn’t need a damn maid, but it was too early in the afternoon to fight with her about it.

“Del is it?”

“Yeah, you’re apart of Steven’s band right? You’re the singer! You were amazing last night,” Delilah didn’t know why but once she opened her mouthing her nerves took over and she couldn’t stop talking. She wanted to cover her mouth with her hand.

“Thanks,” Delilah noticed the smirk that grew on his face and she could tell that he was watching her more than he was cleaning.

“I barely recognized you. You look very different from yesterday,”

Delilah froze at his comment and turned around to look at him, “of course I look different. I’m actually wearing clothing today”

She smiled when his joyful laugh filled the room, and she couldn’t help but laugh with him. He then leaned in and whispered, “but between you and me I liked the other outfit more.” Axl then stood up, left his barely filled bag of empty bottles by Delilah’s, and left the room leaving Delilah speechless with her mind racing in circles.

Across the apartment Mags sat in her brother’s room which was practically a closet, “So I dropped off this month’s rent in the tent due box. How are you guys on food? Do you need any new clothes?”

Mags had been supporting her brother and his band for the past couple months, but she wasn’t the only one. There were a couple of other girls that she would meet, but they preferred doing other things than talking with the guys. They were still nice to her, they just never talked that much.

“I think we are good, you know you don’t have to” before he could continue his sister immediately interrupted him, “I know, but growing up you were always there for me so now it’s my turn to be there for you. Plus I expect millions when you make it big.”

Mags left her brothers room and headed towards the kitchen to make them all some breakfast as a good job for their show last night.

“Delilah you know you don’t have to do that right?” Mags watched as Delilah finished cleaning up all of the beer bottles.

“Yeah, but I want to. You helped me last night, remember?” Mags smiled Delilah’s comment. She also used cleaning as a means to distract herself from what the singer said. Had she found possibly one of the few good hearted people on the strip?

“Fine, but I’m heading to the store to grab some bread. I have something cooking in the stove for breakfast can you make sure the guys don’t eat it before it’s fully cooked in like 5 minutes?” Delilah nodded her head as she waved goodbye to Mags and headed to the kitchen. There was trash everywhere. Delilah wondered how they lived in it.

“Hey, What smells so good,” Mags looked behind her to see a smiling Steven or popcorn as they called him.

“Hey Popcorn, and I think it’s some egg thing. I don’t know, but it will be done,” Delilah turned around to check the one clock that was in the kitchen, “it will be potentially done in 20 minutes.” He smiled at Delilah’s use of his nickname.

“Wanna beer? It will help get rid of the hangover,” it would actually going to cause more pain later, but he didn’t have the heart to tell Delilah that. She already looked like she was done with life.

He watched as Delilah hesitated on her answer, “if you’re worried about it being weird, people usually drink mamosas in the morning which also have alcohoul.” The rest of the band was also going to be drinking whenever they decided to wake, but he decided not to tell her that. He didn’t want Delilah to think poorly of him, she seem to get along great with his sister.

Delilah nodded and he handed her a beer. That was when he was finally able to get a good look at her. Her long purple dress was a huge change from the barely there outfit from the night prior. Her hair looked the same though. Curled and twisted in all different ways, kinda like the curly fries he would get as a kid.

“Morning!” Steven yelled across the room at Duff who only looked a little effected by the drinks the night prior.

“What smells so good? Did your sister bake us something again?” Delilah turned and smiled at the sound of Duff’s voice.

“Yeah it’s like a egg thing, does she usually make stuff like this?” Delilah’s voice caught Duff off guard as the brunette turned around, away from the stove.

Delilah looked over at Duff whose hair was sticking every which way, she tried to hide her laugh, but she couldn’t and Steven quickly joined her.

“Sorry,” Delilah tried hiding her giggle as she apologized to Duff, but it failed.

Duff opened his beer and sat at the table watching Delilah struggle to hide her laughter.

“Like I said last night, I will never fucking forgive you,” he teased back earning a smile from Delilah.

As if on cue, a small timer went off causing Delilah to jump. Her stomach begged for the breakfast dish that Mags made as the smell invaded her nose. The rest of the band must have smelled the egg dish as they quickly poured into the kitchen to smell it. Delilah wondered if Mags had purposely chosen a dish that would wake everyone up. It was smart. Hungover and tired musicians were probably not the best people to deal with in the afternoon.

“So is it done?” Delilah looked into Steven’s puppy dog eyes and nodded her head. She couldn’t find the words to tell him that they couldn’t start without Mags.

“If it’s some then why the fuck are you putting it back in the oven?” Saying Axl was hungry was an understatement. Of course he had small meals here and there, but Mags food always made him drool.

“I’m keeping it warm ya dingus. Mags went shopping to go get the rest of y’all’s lunch...err...breakfast,” Mags said lowering the oven temperature. She looked around the room to be met with confused expressions.

“Delilah what the fuck is a dingus?” Steven asked between his giggles. As if laughter was a disease, it spread through the room.

“An annoying person,” Delilah sheepishly replied staring at the oven pretending to be watching it. She was too embarrassed to look him in the eyes. What if Duff thought she was an idiot or a child?

“What the hell, are you five? Trying calling me an annoying piece of shit next time, that way I can take you seriously,” Axl laughed back. His laugh wasn’t the sweet one she heard earlier, this one was vicious and cruel.

“Hey, Axl you don’t gotta be a dick,” Steven replied before he noticed that Dilalah had left the room.

Was Delilah overreacting? Probably.

But here she was sitting in another room by herself sulking on the couch. She couldn’t walk back into that room after leaving it.

Who was she kidding, why did she even think coming here with Mags would be a good idea? She shouldn’t of ever called her. She already felt like an outsider and Axl wasn’t helping.

She heard some ruckus from the kitchen, but then just shrugged it off trusting Steven to keep the food in the oven and out of their stomach’s.

“You know she probably just came to the bar last night on a dare,” Axl said. Why? Not even Axl knew. The room went quiet again until Steven broke the silence, “I’m going to make sure she is ok.” He eyed Axl as he walked out of the room with Duff on his tail.

“Oh great, do they both want to fuck her or something? She a church girl, anyone with eyes can see it. She thinks she is better than us. We are probably some sort of putty project,” before Axl could continue ranting Slash told him to shut up and went to his room that he shared with Duff.

Steven’s heart sunk as he saw Delilah sitting on their sad excuse for a couch. He had lost track of how many girls they had all fucked on that couch and decided not to mention that to Delilah until another time.

“It’s a pretty day out. It’s always nice to see the calm before the storm. This place becomes barely recognizable during the day before the street comes to life,” Steven rambled.

Delilah flashed him a fake smile and went back to looking outside. He then tried a couple of quick jokes, but she simply faked a smile and went back to what she was doing. Steven didn’t know what else to do, and truth be told neither did Duff.

Duff walked over towards the bin that held their suspiciously acquired records. Curious to see what he was looking for, Delilah watched him. She eventually went back to her staring out the window until she heard Duff’s voice.

“Last night you said you didn’t know a lot about Rock and Roll, so I thought I might as well show you what your missing,” Duff said joining her on the small couch.

Hesitantly Delilah turned around to face him. If it had been anyone else, she probably would had asked them to show her later, but it was Duff. Even though Delilah didn’t fully know it, she had a crush on the bassist.

“So you have your God, and rock and roll has ours,” Duff showered her the album cover waiting for her reaction. She said nothing, but she didn’t look mad, so he continued.

He rambled on for a couple minutes about how great Bowie was. Telling about which songs he liked more and other miscalaneous compliments.

“Do you have a record from that band everyone was talking about last night?” She wanted so bad to understand and listen to the music everyone was talking about. She didn’t want to be a social outcast. She wanted a place to belong.

“No, just like us they don’t have a record out, but they are playing tonight if you want to go see them,” Duff offered.

“Really?” Delilah was shocked at his offer.

“Well I made you a promise, didn’t I?” Then Duff flashed Delilah a smile that made her heart melt. Was she over analyzing this situation? Yes.

“Yeah!” Delilah quickly relied.

“Sweet, there are a bunch of us going tonight. The more the merrier.”

Delilah heart sunk. It wasn’t a date.

“Hey, why aren’t you watching the food?” Mags was a bit peeved that Delilah would completely ignore the fact that she had to watch the food. They didn’t have enough eggs to remake the dish.

Once she got a better look at Delilah’s face, her annoyance disappeared. What the hell did they do to Del?

“The food is fine. I have the oven keeping it slightly warm. I’m in here because Axl was..” Delilah paused sharing a look with Duff.

“Go ahead and say it. I call him that all the time,” Mags raised an eyebrow trying to decider what Duff was talking about.

“Axl was being a piece of shit,” Mags chucked as she saw Delilah proud to let the words come out of her mouth.

“Lunch will be ready in 5 minutes,” Mags yelled through the small apartment as she walked into the kitchen with her grocery bags.

“I’ve never seen someone so proud to call another person a piece of shit,”

“Well Duff you have never met someone like me,” Delilah looked up from the David Bowie record that he had handed her, rather proud.

“Hey popcorn, what’s your favorite record in here,” Delilah asked pointing at the box of records.

“Can’t choose, but for at this very second...” for a couple of seconds he stopped talking until he landed upon the record he was looking for and handed it to Delilah.

She looked at the band and quickly turned over the album to see the names of the songs.

“Thoughts?”

“That guy looks cooler with the lightening bolt on his face,” Delilah picked up David Bowie’s album and pointed to his makeup earning a chuckle.

That’s when it clicked, something that should have clicked a while ago when he mentioned the promise. If he remembered the promise then he probably remembered their make out session.

“Earth to Del, are you OK?”

“Yeah, of course why wouldn’t I be?” Delilah answered in a matter of fact tone. It wasn’t a lie, but it also wasn’t the truth.

“Food is ready!” When Delilah heard Mag’s voice she stood up, grabbed Duff’s beer, and headed towards the kitchen. She took a swig, and forced herself to swallow the nasty drink.

[onestowatch]

Tamino on Lana Del Rey, Personal Sacrifice, and Revisiting ‘Amir’

Belgium-based artist Tamino captivated audiences with the release of his debut album, Amir, earlier this year. His sound is a melancholy marriage of effortless guitar licks, the occasional note from the Arabic scale, and his spellbinding voice, which is both unique in tone and absolutely astonishing in range. 

In the midst of a flurry of shows, he announced a deluxe version of Amir, complete with two brand new songs, “From Every Pore” and “Crocodile,” live recordings with the Nagham Zikrayat orchestra, demos, and live recordings from his show at La Cigale in Paris. The deluxe version of his album hits virtual shelves on October 18, but Tamino has continued his substantial tour schedule in the meantime, most recently playing shows in Tunisia and Egypt. 

We sat down with Tamino at the tail end of his North American tour to talk opening for Lana Del Rey, his grandfather’s guitar, the difference between Western and Arabic orchestras, and more.

OTW: How are you? You’ve been consistently on the move this year!

Tamino: The bike ride I just took did me well. We might do it in every city now. You see a lot of the city you’re visiting in a short amount of time. It’s really cool. 

OTW: Are there cities that you’re looking forward to hitting on your upcoming tour? 

Tamino: I’m very much looking forward to the Middle Eastern tour, because it’s the first time I’m playing in my Fatherland, Egypt. It’s the first time I’m playing in Morocco and Tunisia. We’re going to play some shows in Turkey as well. I don’t recall many artists who have gone there, and it’s a shame. There’s a lot of fans of alternative and indie music over there, so I’m looking forward to it. 

OTW: Your show at the Moroccan was incredible. How did you learn to play guitar? 

Tamino: My Belgian uncle taught me like three chords, I think they were A, B, and G. But then the rest of it I learned by myself, and I got some lessons too. I found my grandfather’s guitar in Cairo and I took it home, and that was the moment I decided I wanted to learn guitar. 

OTW: Do you still play on your grandfather’s guitar?

Tamino: That one I use quite often yes. The resonator guitar, it was made in Egypt. 

OTW: You’ve mentioned that your music features the Arabic scale, which can be new or confusing to the Western ear. How have Western audiences perceived that sound?

Tamino: Well, I myself am Western. Half of my family is Arabic, and I have a strong connection to those countries, but I grew up in Belgium. I only ever play for audiences who don’t know Arabic music well. I know the scales and what’s special about them, though I don’t consider myself an expert, but I think the way it comes through in my music is very natural. I don’t feel like Western crowds have difficulty with it at all. I think the songs are the most important thing, and it’s all about songwriting. The Arabic elements, a quarter note here and there, is not in the way of them experiencing the music in my opinion.

OTW: One of the most interesting things about being at your show was seeing the level of focus in the crowd. Your fans are clearly hardcore. Have you had any memorable fan interactions on this leg of the tour?

Tamino: All the time. They all touch me. What’s funny to see is that there’s people from all sorts of backgrounds and ages, I find that really cool. I also noticed that there could be people whose other favorite artists are hip-hop artists. There could be people who mainly listen to classical music, but they are all coming together at my show. I’m always amazed to see that. People travel from far to see the shows, because I’m not yet playing in every town. I don’t want them to have to travel that far. I’m hoping to play shows closer to their towns. 

OTW: Do you have any pre-show rituals?

Tamino: I wish I had more of them! Today’s bike ride was really cool, maybe I will make it one of my rituals. I do like to warm up my voice for at least half an hour if possible. Scales and some improvisation before running a marathon. 

OTW: Let’s talk about the deluxe version of your album, Amir. What sparked the decision to include the live recordings with the ones that were produced out?

Tamino: We did some live sessions with Nagham Zikrayat, the orchestra that recorded on the record. They play exactly like an Arabic orchestra from the 1950s, or before that even. They are very good at creating the same sound as back then, which I really love. They’re very nice and amazing musicians, so we recorded live with them in one room and we took some videos of that as well, which will be released soon. Then there are some demos and B sides on the deluxe as well. 

OTW: When you work with the orchestra, what is your role? Are you acting as director, arranger, and conductor or are you letting them do their thing?

Tamino: I wrote all of the melodies for the parts, but I don’t know how to arrange for an orchestra. So I had an arranger come in and write down which instruments should play what, and he also conducted it. I was at the recording desk, listening, and would tell them if I wanted it a bit more dramatic or held back. The cool thing about Arabic musicians is that they will always do their own thing with it. They will play what’s written on the paper but add their own improvisational ornaments. We had one song played by two different orchestras actually, one Arabic and one Western. I would compare the versions and the difference was huge, totally different vibe, though they were given the same arrangements. 

OTW: Did you have a preference between the orchestras?

Tamino: Definitely the Arabic. Not for every song though. For “Persephone,” I wanted a more straight dance on that one, so I went with the Western ensemble.

OTW: The last year has been very big for you, with the release of your debut album Amir being so successful. You also recently opened for Lana Del Rey! How was that?

Tamino: I supported her in Dublin, and it was a lovely experience. She is really, really cool and very kind. It was a total honor and I felt like the people in Dublin really embraced me. It’s always scary to do a support show because you never know if people will pay attention to you, but they were so nice and it was a great experience.

OTW: Can we expect any collabs between the two of you or is that just wishful thinking?

Tamino: I don’t know about any of that, I’m totally not in a position of assuming such a thing. (laughs)

OTW: You’re really far from home, what does your family think about the success that you’ve had? 

Tamino: My father was a singer. His father was a big singer in the Arabic world. He understands, but my mom understands as well. They are very supportive. They just hope that I’m doing well and find it important that whatever takes me away from home has to be worth the sacrifice. When you’re in this profession, there is a lot of sacrifice, so it has to be worth it, you know?

OTW: What do you hope to do with music in the coming year?

Tamino: I have no answer for that, I only know that I’m going to take some time off and write new stuff and then come back. It goes where it goes. It reaches whoever it reaches, and I hope it reaches many. The way my life has been organized for the last three years has been a lot of playing, and there wasn’t much time to think about anything or write. So, I will probably fall into a black hole–into my time of rest, but then, afterward, I hope to come back with a new record and do some touring again—play bigger venues, reach more people, reach more places.

OTW: That will be a much-deserved hibernation. Finally, who are your Ones To Watch? 

Tamino: That’s really difficult. I mainly listen to older music, if I listen to anything. The ones I have in mind are already big! I guess good music finds people, so they don’t need a shoutout from me. 

[nitr0glycer1ne]

Ducktober/Duckvember Day 13 - Duckswap (Age Swap AU)

Hi! Ok so I have no idea what Duckswap is, so I went with the idea that it's an AU where the characters' ages are swapped? So here's my take on that, with more details:

- The triplets are around thirty. Huey is a marine biologist and also a Junior Woodchuck troop leader, Dewey is a stunt actor and hosts a weekly show on a local radio station, Louie works in marketing. They live together and they’re raising their nephew and niece, Donald and Della, who are eleven, as well as another nephew of theirs, Scrooge, who’s only two. - The three of them also take turns being Gizmoduck, Duckburg’s protector; nobody except for Webby knows of their secret. On top of that, everyone else thinks there’s only one Gizmoduck. - Webby is the triplets’ adopted sister; she’s a year older, and she’s an archaeologist as well as a novelist. - Launchpad is eight, he’s a big fan of Dewey and lives in the triplets’ neighbourhood. Dewey often babysits him and LP considers him his best friend. - Fenton is seven, and he’s in Huey’s JW troop. He has a huge imagination and wants to become a scientist AND a superhero. He’s also convinced Gyro’s his best friend. - Gyro is nine, he’s in Huey’s troop as well. He doesn’t get along well with his family or his peers, and prefers to read on his own or work on his many, many inventions. - This is the basis for this oneshort; if I do write more about it, more characters will be included, such as Lena, Drake, Violet, Mrs Beakley...

Enjoy!

“Do I really need to wear those?”

Dewey lifted his eyes from his current task, which consisted of tying the laces of Launchpad’s roller skates, to see his best friend’s face. The duckling looked unsure, holding the kneepads in front of him.

“I’m afraid so, buddy.” Dewey answered as he finished the tight knot on one of the laces. “Just in case of another crash.” “But you’re not wearing any protection!” Launchpad countered, his bright eyes looking right into Dewey’s. “True, but I’ve been doing that for like, forever.” the older duck grinned, ruffling the ginger strands coming from under Launchpad’s helmet. “It’s your first time, though.” “Okay, that makes sense!” the duckling finally gave in, carefully putting the pads on.

Launchpad wasn’t really rebellious; he just liked to ask a lot of questions, and to get to the bottom of things. If he was satisfied with the answers Dewey or other adults gave in, he had no issue doing what he was told.

“Are you ready?” Dewey asked, getting up after checking one last time that his best friend’s roller skates were securely fastened to his palms. “Yeah!” the boy roared, punching the duck’s fist and making an explosion noise afterwards. “Ooookay, let’s dew-it then!”

Dewey took Launchpad’s hands in his, facing the duckling. Launchpad struggled a bit to get up, and it took him a few moments to regain his balance after standing up, but he did a good job at keeping his balance when Dewey started slowly skating backwards, Launchpad following eagerly.

“You’re doing great!” Dewey beamed, proud of his disciple. “Think you can handle a little more speed, LP?” “Sure can!” Launchpad shouted, starting to mimic his friend’s movements instead of letting himself be dragged. “Okay!”

Dewey carefully let go one of Launchpad’s hands, moving elegantly so the two were skating side by side. Launchpad did have some trouble keeping his balance, and he was grateful Dewey was still holding his left hand, but he quickly understood how to move his legs and how to keep his equilibrium. Dewey was proud of his student; it seemed like Launchpad had a gift when it came to learning various skills that involved moving objects, like biking, skiing or even surfing. Sure, the duckling had a tendency to fall or crash into walls or people after going too fast and losing control, but he never got seriously injured and it never discouraged him from learning new skills.

Dewey feared the day when Launchpad would get interested in learning how to drive bigger things, like motorcycles or cars, but for now he couldn’t be a prouder teacher.

“Dewey!” Launchpad exclaimed, giddy. “I-I think I’ve got it!” “Awesome! Want me to let go?” “Yeah, I’m ready!” “Okay, LP! Three, two, one, go!!”

The older duck was true to his word, and Launchpad found himself skating on his own, his legs pushing on his roller skates and making him go faster. The duckling couldn’t help but laugh; he liked it even more than skateboarding, adjusting the pressure on his knees and on his ankles to put the small wheels in motion, going faster and faster, dodging irregularities on the road, avoiding the people crossing the street, laughing all the while.

“That’s it, LP, you’re doing amazing!” Dewey shouted, still skating, staying a bit behind LP to keep an eye on him. “THIS IS SO COOL!!” Launchpad yelled, going even faster, his gestures precise and sharp.

Dewey fondly watched his best friend speed down the road, but started to find that Launchpad was perhaps going a little too fast.

“LP, slow down!” he screamed, hoping the duckling would, for once, listen to him. “GO FASTER? OKAY!” “NO, SLOWER!”

Dewey started skating faster, trying to catch up with his disciple. He knew what happened when Launchpad was enjoying himself too much, especially when it involved going very fast down a very steep road. He only hoped that Launchpad would, for once, be aware of his own limits, or that in the worst case scenario, he would reach LP before the kid could wreak havoc.

“AAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!!”

Well, so much for those plans.

-----

“Come on, please!” “I said no.”

Fenton pouted. He had been trying to convince Gyro to play with him for the last ten minutes - but the chicken hadn’t given in, staying on his favourite bench, underneath a tree. Gyro was reading a heavy tome Fenton had already seen him with, something about quantum physics. It was one of Gyro’s favourite subjects - Fenton preferred chemistry.

“Please, Gyro! And after, we can do whatever you want!” “Once again, no.” “But please! I can’t play Gizmoduck if there’s no villain to stop!” “Then I’ll be your villain, if you want!”

Fenton happily spun towards the duck who had just spoken - his favourite adult and the leader of his Junior Woodchuck group, Huey Duck. The marine biologist was smiling brightly at him, and the duckling threw himself around his waist.

“Hi Mr Huey!”

Fenton was one of the most polite children Huey had ever met. Even after being given the permission to call him by his first name, the duckling still had trouble letting go of the “Mr” in front of Huey’s name. “Hey, Fenton.” Huey ruffled the feathers on top of the small duck’s head, before looking at the other kid. “Hey, Gyro.” “Huey.” the chicken nodded, readjusting his glasses before returning to his book. “Mr Huey, look, look! I’ve made some adjustments to my suit!”

Fenton stepped away from the scientist, proudly showing his homemade armour to the duck. It was crafted out of cardboard, paint and markers, but the duckling had managed to make it look pretty amazing. Just like Gyro, Fenton was a perfectionist and had a gift to make remarkable creations out of mundane materials – the only difference being that Fenton’s inventions were mostly play-pretend, and Gyro’s were actual attempts at creating fully functional machines and gizmos.

“Let me see that.” Huey asked, kneeling down to the excited boy’s level. Huey took the time to admire every modification Fenton had made since the last time, which mainly laid in the freshly painted lines on the back, and in the small LEDs embedded in one of the arms’ control panel. “Great work, as always.” The scientist finally concluded, getting up and chuckling at the look of absolute joy on Fenton’s face. “No doubt you’ll scare the villains away before they even attack you!”

Despite having pretended he couldn’t care less about the younger boy’s latest improvements on a bunch of cardboard, Gyro was watching the two ducks interact from behind his book. He couldn’t help but feel like joining them; he loved tinkering with his own creations, and he liked reading in the park while enjoying the warm spring weather, but he also yearned to do more simple, basic things kids his age did, like playing pretend or playing soccer. But Gyro had his own ways of doing those activities, and other kids resented him for that; which was why he pretended not to be interested when one of them had the strange idea to invite him.

Thankfully, Huey seemed to sense his hidden dilemma, for the duck sat next to him and gently spoke:

“You know, I think Fenton would sincerely like to play with you.” “Yeah, I know.” the chicken scoffed. “But I’m not a baby, thanks.” “There’s nothing baby-ish about playing superheroes and villains at your age, Gyro.” There was no reproach in Huey’s tone; the scientist was simply speaking his mind to the kid. “You’re incredibly smart and mature for your age, and I know that can be tiring sometimes. No shame in unwinding a little, you know?”

Huey respected the pensive silence Gyro let linger between them, before getting up:

“Well, if you want to join in, we’ll stay nearby.” the scientist said, walking towards where Fenton was pretending to fly, a few meters away. “The battle between Gizmoduck and Dr. Abyssmos promises to be legendary.”

Gyro nodded with a small “hmpf” before getting back to his book. However, Huey’s words had planted a seed inside of him, one that urged him to forget acting like an adult for once, a voice that was growing stronger and stronger and that he had trouble ignoring. Rolling his eyes, Gyro put his book aside and got up with a heavy sigh.

--------

“No, get back here!”

Louie lifted up a very unhappy Scrooge from the sandbox. The duckling gave his guardian a dirty look, complete with a pout, which Louie scoffed at.

“Yeah, get mad if you want, but it’s time to go back home. I know you, and if you don’t get your nap, you’re all cranky.” “No nap!” the small duck protested as Louie put him in his stroller, making sure the restraints were fastened. “Not tired! Scrooge wants to play!” “You’ve played for over an hour, buddy.” the duck wearing a green plaid shirt countered, gathering the toddler’s toys that were scattered all over the sandbox. “You built lots of sand castles, dug a lot of holes and even found a treasure.”

The “treasure” in question was a coin Louie had hidden in the sand when Scrooge had been busy bickering with Goldie, another toddler they often met in the park. The coin was safely tucked in the front pocket of the toddler’s overalls, where Goldie couldn’t steal it easily.

“Okay, now, let’s go- HEY! Get back here!” Louie screamed.

Scrooge had taken advantage of the situation: since Louie had been busy checking the whole sandbox and turned his back to the duckling the whole time, the clever toddler had unclasped the stroller’s restraints and ran away. Thankfully, “running away” didn’t mean he had gotten far, since even though he was quick, Scrooge’s waddling was no match for Louie’s hurried steps.

“If you keep this up, no dessert for you tonight.” The adult warned when he scooped Scrooge up in his arms, making sure the duckling looked him in the eye. “And I’ll take your treasure.”

A shocked gasp left the duckling’s body as Scrooge protectively put his hands in front of his pocket. Louie made sure to give the kid his trademark Evil Smile for more effect.

“Good. Napping isn’t so bad! You don’t know how lucky you are. I wish I could still nap.” Louie sighed, putting Scrooge’s toys in his bag and seating the toddler in the stroller.

His days were rather exhausting: he had to balance between his day job, his two nights a week patrolling Duckburg and fighting crime and raising three kids. Louie knew his brothers had it just as bad – Huey especially, since his job required longer hours and on top of that he was a Junior Woodchuck troop leader-, but he still craved for a quieter life sometimes. He’d never, ever want to be separated from Donald, Della and Scrooge and even less to be separated from Huey and Dewey; but sometimes, he wished he could have a day, or even two, only to himself.

“Louie?” Scrooge asked, his brow furrowed in confusion. Louie couldn’t help but smile; after all, the kid was very perceptive for his age. “Is Louie okay?” “Yeah, yeah, don’t worry about it.” the duck promised, ruffling the feathers on top of his relative’s head. “Come on, let’s go home! If you want, we can play adventurers after your nap.”

An enthusiastic cry was his answer, and Louie started making his way towards the park’s exit, pushing the stroller in front of him.

--------

“Give it back!” “Come and get it!”

Della was running as fast as her body would carry her, her laughter echoing in the ears of her angry sibling. Donald was chasing her, screaming nonsense and drawing everyone’s attention on them.

“I said to give it back, Dumbella!” “Hey!”

Donald smirked when his sister, offended, turned around and started running towards him. That always did the trick when Della wouldn’t listen- he had called her that countless times, and it was still as efficient as the first time he had found the nickname.

“I told you not to call me like that!” Della screamed, charging towards him. “Then you shouldn’t have stolen my stuff!” “I stole your stuff because you wouldn’t listen to me!” “And I wouldn’t listen to you because you never leave me alone!”

Their increasingly loud shouting match drew everyone’s attention on them, but the twins didn’t care. They were used to it- they were a pair of hot headed ducks, and screaming came as natural as talking to them, especially to Donald. So they kept yelling at each other, the original reason of their argument long forgotten. Donald and Della were standing in the middle of one of the parks’ alleys, inches apart, ears ringing with the others’ deafening screams.

“STOOOOOPPPPP!”

The pair was immediately shut up by the one person who could out-scream them. They turned towards the source of the loud shriek, who was standing right next to them, looking both annoyed, disappointed and a bit sad. Webby’s arms were crossed, and although she was silent, the twins dreaded a bit what was to come. Their aunt was never violent towards them, but she had an impressive aura when she wanted to.

“Guys… why are you fighting?” Webby asked calmly after an awkward moment. “Della stole my journal!” Donald was quick to gather his spirits and accuse his sister, angrily pointing at her. Della scoffed, the incriminating volume coming out of her pocket. “Is that true?” “Yeah, but Donald ignored me! So I had to get his attention somehow, right?” “True, but taking his belongings-” “You’re really annoying, Dumbella! I don’t always want to talk to you! I have a life outside of you!” “Yeah, well, so do I! But that doesn’t mean you have to ignore me all the time!”

And the Duck twins started another round of screaming their heads out. Webby frowned; Donald and Della had a tendency to have small spats, but this was unusually violent by their standards. She had to get to the bottom of it. The two of them were suffering from the situation, she saw it in the way Della’s eyes were filled with tears and with how Donald was growing more and more unintelligible.

“Ok, OK! STOP!”

The archaeologist physically put herself between her nephew and her niece, taking one of them in each arm, hugging them.

“Guys, this isn’t like you. Is this really about Donald ignoring you? And is this really about your journal?”

Webby knew she was right when Donald stopped speaking and Della looked away, suddenly very interested in the ground. She wasn’t very patient, or patient at all really, but she knew better than to try and squeeze the truth out of them. Her patience was rewarded when Della spoke up:

“It’s just… stuff happened at school today, and I wanted to take Donny’s mind out of it.” “What happened?” Webby asked softly, noticing the subtle way Donald twitched a bit. “Is this another Beagle boy situation?” “Yeah.” Della sighed.

Webby wrapped her arms tighter around the twins, suddenly feeling very protective of them. The Beagle boys were a gang of bullies in the kids’ school. They targeted pretty much everyone, but lately they had latched at Donald in particular. They had tried to be nasty to Della, but she and Donald had kicked those tendencies out of them – Huey had been the only one to somewhat scold them for hitting other kids, and their three other guardians had congratulated them. So they had gone to Donald in retaliation – except that instead of trying to hit him, they had found an approach that was far more efficient, and that was to make fun of him and his speech impediment. Huey and Webby had discussed it with the bullies’ parents and the kids’ teacher, but that apparently hadn’t been enough.

“What did they do this time?” “I don’t wanna talk about it.” Donald mumbled. “But, Donny-” Della tried. “Della.” Webby gently interrupted her. “We’ll see about that at home, okay? I promise you both your uncles and I are not going to let those little hooligans keep doing that to you.”

Donald wiped his eyes with the cuff of his shirt, nodding silently. Della left Webby’s embrace to throw herself at her brother, giving him a tight hug that Webby joined in, soothingly petting Donald’s head. She knew how difficult it was for the duckling to properly express his emotions, even with the help of his therapist, and she didn’t want to make him even more uncomfortable by talking about his issues in the middle of the park.

“But first, how about some ice cream?” the archaeologist offered with a smile, taking a step back.

Two pairs of eyes shone back at her, and two eager ducklings nodded their approval. Each of them took one of her hands, and the trio made their way towards’ the park’s food kiosk, near the entrance. Webby ordered for the twins and for herself: she knew their tastes by heart, and once again got it right, if the large smiles they gave her when she handed her their respective frozen treats was any indication.

“A triple chocolate sundae for Della, and a sea-salt parfait for Donald, there you go!” “Thank you, aunt Webby!” the twins said in unison.

They were about to bite into their desserts when they heard a loud scream, followed by a second, higher one. Startled, the three ducks turned their attention towards the source of the noise.

A small duck, mounted on roller skaters, was coming at them extremely fast, flailing his arms as if to slow down. Another one, covered in cardboard, was running after him and yelling him to stop; he was followed by a young chicken who was screaming what seemed to be instructions. Webby had barely noticed that Dewey and Huey were also running towards them, trying to catch up with the poor duckling, when all of a sudden-

CRASH!

Della was the fastest to react, hastily putting her sundae on a nearby table and making her way to where the skating duck, which had turned out to be their neighbours’ son Launchpad, had crashed, which was in another table, with Donald having been between them. The result was a mess: the table was broken and missed a leg, Launchpad was sitting on the ground and looking dizzy, and Donald was lying near the other duckling, his eyes closed and ice cream splattered all over his shirt.

“Donny!” she yelled, relieved, when her twin opened his eyes and waved at her before finding himself nearly strangled by the strength of Della’s sudden hug. “Are you okay?” “I can’t breathe-” “Are any of you injured?” the duck covered in cardboard asked, waddling towards Launchpad and helping him get on his feet. “Gizmoduck will-” “What is going on here?!”

Webby had been walking towards her nephew, but she turned around and faced a very surprised Louie. Huey and Dewey had reached her as well, both out of breath. Scrooge, comfortably sitting in his stroller, was also looking at the remnants of Launchpad’s crash, apparently very intrigued.

“I tried to teach LP how to roller skate.” Dewey sighed. “Didn’t turn out well.” “It never turns out well.” Louie winced, looking at Donald. Della was thoroughly inspecting him, and he looked very annoyed about it - which meant he was probably fine. “It’s a wonder he never injures himself.” Huey added. “Fenton and Gyro tried to stop him when he passed by us, but Gyro’s instructions were probably too complicated and Fenton was just screaming “halt, citizen, in the name of the law!”, so that might have panicked him even more.”

Gyro had taken a small pouch of his pocket and was looking at LP’s roller skates, either making sure they weren’t faulty or trying to improve them somehow, speaking to himself and sometimes giving a skating tip to Launchpad, who nodded at every single one of his tips. Della and Donald had sat down on a table, and were both digging into Della’s sundae, the girl looking fondly at her twin and sometimes glaring at Launchpad. Louie had taken Scrooge out of his stroller and handed him to Fenton: the kid loved toddlers and babies, and was very good at handling them, and Scrooge was very intrigued by the duckling’s homemade Gizmoduck armour.

Huey, Dewey, Louie and Webby couldn’t help but smile fondly at the kids. They were a handful, they were hard to understand and sometimes hard to talk to, but they brought so much joy in their lives that they would never have it any other way.

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

Ahhhh this was so fun to write! Let me know if I should write more of this AU! hmu on twitter @ sarahnitr0 !!

[vogueparker]

byler vs mileven | a theory essay.

( this is a full-on essay, explaining my theory on will's sexuality && mileven / byler parallels hsbhshsn if this is your thing, enjoy this. if it isn't and you're pretty sure you're gonna get bored out of your mind, skip this whole thing,, shbssnsn  especially if you only know me for my andi mack content ssbs ) 

okay,, i want to mention that i've been a HUGE byler fan since like, episode one of season two, mainly because it's actually so good and  ( lowkey, don't attack me blease ) mileven's toxic, but i think that will could be homoromantic ace. i also think that mike is definitely bi and there's a lot of instances where it references that mike is queer-coded, and well, there was supposed to be a scene in season 1 where mike was crying for will once he found out that will was quote-on-quote dead, as he was riding a bike, so,,, take it as you will. but i think that will MIGHT be ace and if i'm right, it's kind-of ingenious for what the duffer bros chose to do. 

this was, in a lot of the actors' words, 'the season of love'. so, considering that will has always sort-of been in a group with an even amount of people and always paired up with mike, it made sense that once el came into the picture, will kind-of got sidelined, and considering this season was the 'season of love', it might be smart that they have a character, like will, who might be ace and/or gay, in the sidelines. of course, i hate that my son didn't get a lot of screentime, and that he hasn't really caught a break since the beginning of the show, but it could just help allude to that sort-of thing. i also feel like mike's character completely changed by the end of the season- at the beginning he was desperate to win el back, but by the end of the last episode, when el + the byers move to wherever they moved to ( i think maine but i don't really know. oops. ) mike seems so different. when el kissed him for the last time, he seemed stiff. he wasn't like mike at the beginning, who was kind-of eating el's face, who kissed back. he didn't kiss back, and quite honestly, he forgot he said he loved her. 

i also saw this in a tumblr post ( linked here, if you want to check it out, ) where there's a whole lot of byler / mileven parallels, but what i find interesting is the separate tones of mileven's breakup and byler's "breakup" ( i'm using breakup pretty loosely, considering they're not a canon couple, but they are canon best-friends. ) which shows the two entirely different tones. the same tumblr user's post describes this whole thing more concisely, but basically byler's "breakup" was dramatic- it was set in the rain, featured mike FEELING something other than being a horny little bitch, and will after the fight literally destroyed castle byers. mileven's breakup, however, is comedic. it features el saying 'i dump your ass' and then immediately after, it plays 'cold as ice'. el + max high-five, they laugh, it's just a light-hearted scene. mike looks confused, rather than actually upset. in the byler breakup, mike is visibly distraught and RIGHT AWAY ( something so freaking uncommon for his character, by the way, ) apologizes to will. we don't see him doing that with anyone else. 

but, in a way i feel like mike is really bisexual, and will's homoromantic ace. he doesn't do the particularly teenage things- hell, we never even see him with a LOVE INTEREST, and we see mike literally sucking el's face off. i don't know though, i could be totally wrong. let’s hope for the best, byler stans.