#ten cents a dance

[newyorkthegoldenage]

Hostesses at the Savoy Ballroom, Harlem, 1938.

Until 1943, the Savoy Ballroom was renowned for its “hostesses”— attractive, well-dressed and well-mannered young ladies in the employ of the ballroom, who could teach you the latest dance steps or simply give you the pleasure of their company on the dance floor . Dance partners for hire were sometimes called “taxi dancers” and could be had for 25 cents for three dancers. The hostess booth in the Savoy was by the stairwell.

Photo & text: PIC magazine via Welcome to the Savoy

[maddie-grove]

Little Book Review: YA/Children's Literature Round-Up (May-December 2022)

Dear Mr. Henshaw by Beverly Cleary (1983): Leigh Botts keeps up a years-long correspondence with children's author Mr. Henshaw, which becomes an important outlet after his parents divorce and he has to move to a new town with his mother. This is the book that won Beverly Cleary the Newberry Award, and frankly it's like when Leonardo DiCaprio won Best Actor for The Revenant instead of The Wolf of Wall Street. Cleary was a legend, but she excelled most at lower-stakes childhood (and sometimes adolescent) drama, like being bad at cursive, not owning enough cashmere sweaters, or (at worst) worrying because your father lost his job. This is still a sweet, sensitive problem novel, yet I feel like Judy Blume or Betsy Byars would've pushed it to the next level.

The Snow Angel by Suzanne Weyn (1996): In the eighth volume of a middle-grade series about four girls who are friends with angels, rich girl Molly is devastated when her boyfriend dumps her for hippie-dippy Christina. She distances herself from her loved ones, almost relapses in her recovery from anorexia, and ignores the gigantic snow-angel-turned-tourist-trap on her other friend Ashley's horse farm. Luckily, her dad just brought a catatonic Irish boy into their house! Can Molly help herself by helping him? I bought this book for a dime because it looked completely ridiculous, and it delivered on that front. I really didn't like any of the girls except for Molly, and with her it was mostly just the sympathy I'd have for any troubled teenager.

The Five Little Peppers and How They Grew by Margaret Sidney (1881): In a small New England town, widowed Mrs. Pepper and her five kids (Ben, Polly, Joel, Davie, and Phronsie) must work hard to keep their spirits up in the face of grinding poverty, measles, and monkey-related shenanigans. I made several gos at reading this book as a child, but always lost steam after the Peppers made friends with the wealthy King family. Little Emily was right on the money, because this classic is just not very good, especially after the rich folks start helping out. It's beyond treacly and only a few of the episodic chapters have a good amount of tension. Polly's almost-going-blind-from-measles-and-eldest-daughter-syndrome arc is still great, though.

Afternoon of the Elves by Janet Taylor Lisle (1989): Sheltered fourth-grader Hillary forms an unlikely friendship with her neighbor, outcast sixth-grader Sara-Kate, after the older girl claims to have elves in her backyard. I had to read this book for school in fourth grade and I did not like it. I felt like it was trying to lure me in with something fun (magic, miniatures), only to never deliver and hit me with the actual sad topic (poverty and mental illness of a parent) instead. I stand by my elementary-school opinion. The good version of this novel is Daphne's Book by Mary Downing Hahn (if you want to read about an average girl befriending the class outcast before losing her to Social Services) or Lucie Babbidge's House by Sylvia Cassedy (if you want to read about a troubled girl getting lost in the arguably magical miniatures sauce).

Ten Cents a Dance by Christine Fletcher (2008): Working at a meatpacking plant to support her arthritic widowed mother and little sister in early-1940s Chicago, pretty, scrappy teenager Ruby Jelinski takes a chance and becomes a dime-a-dance girl at the recommendation of a handsome neighborhood hoodlum. I read this book at some point in high school and vaguely remembered liking it, but this time I was blown away. Fletcher packs a mind-bogging amount of character development and historical detail into a fast-paced story that ventures into some unexpected territory. It's maybe one of the best historical novels I've ever read.

Mitch and Amy by Beverly Cleary (1967): Nine-year-old twins Mitch and Amy don't always get along, but, if an outsider messes with one of them, he better be prepared for double trouble. Class bully Alan Hibbler learns this to his sorrow. This is the kind of cute slice-of-life story that was right in Cleary's wheelhouse, although it's not her most memorable. There are lots of sweet moments between the twins; for example, Amy gets Mitch an exciting book from the library when he's sick because she senses it'll help him with his reading struggles, and Mitch goes to bat for her when the dreaded Alan spits in her hair. I do think it would've been ideal if Mitch had also done something to help Amy with multiplication, for the symmetry. Also, I can't believe I missed the beginning-of-the-late-1960s California setting. These are some Joan Didion babies.

Cleopatra: Daughter of the Nile by Kristiana Gregory (1999): Her older sister wants to kill her, her father is a severe alcoholic, and she's stuck living in Rome with a bunch of gross old men who don't take her seriously, but teenage Cleopatra doesn't let that keep her from learning and adapting. This is one of the Royal Diaries I didn't read as a kid, and I really enjoyed the characterization of Cleopatra, who's resilient, clever, curious, and conflicted about her thorny family relationships.

(The Snow Angel, The Five Little Peppers and How They Grew, and Cleopatra: Daughter of the Nile were all first-time reads; the rest were rereads.)

[tippytopoftrees]

Ten Cents A Dance (1931) Barbara Stanwyck and Ricardo Cortez

[female-malice]

AMELIA STRICKLER: Trans TikTok star Dylan Mulvaney's offensive parody makes a total mockery of female athletes like me 

It Is so offensive, it reminds me of a routine by a chauvinist male comedian from the 1970s. Dylan Mulvaney, a TikTok influencer and performer, leaps around wearing Nike leggings and a sports bra. Their exaggerated movements seem to me to parody a woman’s exercise routine.

Mulvaney, a biological male who first openly identified as ‘transgender’ in March last year, has been signed by the world’s biggest sports company to promote women’s clothing. I am a GB shot putter who has won the British title twice and competed in the Commonwealth Games. I am a European finalist and world championship finalist.

I know how many years of training it takes, often at great personal cost, to reach the top levels of sport.

And I know what it is to be a woman.

In the video advert, Mulvaney frankly appears to be laughing in the face of female athletes like me – and any other woman or girl who wants to better themselves physically.

I’ve been a shot putter since I was ten. Life in professional athletics requires grit and determination. It doesn’t involve dancing around, grinning inanely.

It means getting up at the crack of dawn to train, keeping going when every muscle in your body is screaming at you to stop, forgoing time with friends and family and being utterly single-minded. And because so few female athletes attract sponsorship from giants like Nike, we often have to fit training and competing around other paid work.

For many years, I had two jobs to support my shot putting career. Recently I found a private sponsor through my athletics club Thames Valley Harriers, which enables me to keep competing.

But most female athletes don’t have that advantage. Women get 1 per cent of all sports sponsorship money – and yet to see Nike willing to shell out however many thousands it is to Mulvaney – who, remember, has not fully ‘transitioned’ to female – is utterly demoralising.

Nike likes to harp on about how it champions women: last year it announced an ‘Athletes Think Tank’ to help ‘serve today’s women athletes’, while a 2021 campaign praised mums for being ‘the toughest athletes’.

All well and good – but contrast these warm words with Nike’s actions towards the female athletes it actually sponsored. Women such as Olympic runner Alysia Montano were subject to ‘performance-based reductions’ – amounting to a 70 per cent pay cut – when they were unable to race due to being pregnant or having just given birth. In other words, penalised for being a woman.

Following a public outcry, Nike amended its policy to allow women 18 months off around pregnancy, but this latest publicity stunt reveals just how little the company really cares about women in sport.

It would be better to invest some of the money given to attention-seeking influencers such as Mulvaney to develop better sportswear for biological women.

In nearly a decade of competing at the top level, I have yet to find a decent sports bra: I have to wear two at once.

Modelling a bra on someone who has a male torso is an insult to those of us with female bodies.

At the track yesterday, many fellow female athletes were deeply upset by Nike’s apparent contempt for our sport. As one said – and I agree – ‘I’m glad Nike isn’t my sponsor.’

Women are still fighting for true equality in sport – we’ve made progress, but there’s a long way to go. We don’t need a big brand such as Nike to bring it down with crass campaigns. I agree with Sharron Davies – women should boycott Nike. If they refuse to support women in sport, then why should we support them?

[wonik1ss]

౨ৎ Stay Until 2 ? — kim minji

001. age changer + written | masterlist

taglist : @technicallyimportantsweets @juhyunsthirdwife @jjkills @kimakento @fluffyji @somedaydream @emphobics @zey1ltn @lovepjohootoa @takpayahtahu @nwjsenthusiast @baewonlove @aeriniee @mygfiswonyoung @heekkicr @jinsoulinator @addorations @ssoursss @klvarchives @yerimbrit @gayforalll @haerinsloverr @slowlydifferentbluebird @yawnzlvr @technicallyimportantsweets @juhyunsthirdwife @kimakento @deersteel @hannibangggg @popasi @rianosis @jkwsel @eternalgayshits @dearyujimin

you took a deep breath before you turned on your stream. after a few minutes the comments started to roll in and your giggled did too. minju being one of them made your smile burn brighter.

“hay bun buns ! today we are going to be doing something a little different.. one of you will get to play fortnite with me..”. as you sighed your rolled your eyes at the comments.

@juju.beat — LET ME JOIN AND WHOP YOUR ASS !

@fan2821 — YAHH

@fan3826 — I miss haerin :(

“your so funny minju !”. you rolled your eyes as you looked to see minju donated 0.33 cents.

@juju.beat — suck it ;D <3

you made a heart to the camera then flipped it off, and more and more comments came.

“if you want to join me just check my newest tweet and put down your Fortnite user and discord so we can chat why’ll we play !”. after posting the tweet for a few minutes you just talked to your fan. while a couple miles away sixteen year old hyein was ecstatic to join her favorite youtuber. hurriedly hyein responded the the tweet her favorite bts playlist playing in the background.

then after a few minutes of geeking out hyein stationed herself at her computer loading Fortnite and discord in her pink pajama’s.

“hyein-ah get to sleep now !”

“yes mom !”. hyein ran to turn of her lights and after a few minutes turned on her leds. meanwhile you finally stopped drowning on about your new cat. opening up twitter for your stream your scrolled and waited a few minutes.

“and…. hye_iup on Fortnite and discord won ! pls accept my friend requests and we will finally start some gameplay !”. hyein eyes half opened jumped. did you actaully say her name?

just to be sure hyein checked and you were requesting to follower her. after some breathing exercises hyein accepted voice and joined your discord call.

“hi.. how are you?”

“42”. you paused. surely your hearing things..

“ok.. do you want to just jump-“

“ofcourse can’t wait to beat you this will be soooo easy”. you sat stunned for a minute before your competitiveness kicked in.

“I’ve been practicing !”. hyein pretend to yawn.

“we’re you practicing that one time haerin snipped you on her first game..”. your chat erupted and your jaw dropped.

“stop trash talking me and join the game!”. hyein giggled and then game began. a few fans snuck there way into your game and tried to help you. mean while hyein was dancing with a chicken.

“you have been quiet for a while.. um..”

“hyein ! and I’m dancing with a chicken ! remind me of my own..”. it took you a second to digest everything the girl had said.

“I’m grinding my ass off and you’re dancing withs chicken?”. for the discord called you heard two shots.

“she pulled a gun on me.. how disrespectful ! chicky would never do that to me..”

“your chickens named.. chicky..”

“Im.. se-twenty I’m not that creative sorry !”. after a few more minutes your both got into a flow. hyein would be doing some thing weird like dancing with the whole avatar crew.

“kinda wish kora was here though-“. you hummed and then heard two guns go off.

“she killed everyone”. you burst out laughing while hyein held a funeral for the gang.

or even meet you face to face but not know because you changed your skin.

“ugh.. idk why people choose bright skins there just asking to be killed..”. hyein went off for a good ten minutes before someone donated to you telling her that was you and she burst out laughing. two hours in hyein was complaining about her work when the game started to come to an end.

“like why did this old as teacher yell at me for not knowing geometry ! like- girl I learned that two years ago calm down”

“so your 17..?”

“totally”. as soon as that word left hyein’s mouth her character evaporated into thin air.

“WHAT THE- omg what !”. you giggled as Hyein went off.

“unfair !”. you could here her pout through the screen so you tried to brighten her mood.

“hay is it ok if I get your number so we can play more..? everyone seems to love your yelling..!”. hyein scoffed, but you were right. you usually had 50-200k people watching but you broke your highest record and had 3million people watching.

“uh— sure give me a sec..”. as you tapped your fingers on your desk hyein ran to her phone on her bed. after texting her bestfriend wonhak thirty times with no response she sighed and went back to her chair.

hyein was a troubled teen. with mostly b’s and some c’s and a f in phys ed. so when she asked for a phone for her sixteenth birthday she got a fat no. but you were y/n y/l/n ! so when hyein got back on the call she gave the only number she knew.

“sorry but I have school tomorrow bye ! can’t wait to beat you later !”. you giggled as after hyein left you ended your stream too. but as hyein brushed her teeth and finally went to sleep at twelve you texted ‘her’ at 12:15. the thing was the only number hyein knew that wasn’t a parents or cousins was minji her favorite cousins bestfriend.

[euphorajeon]

color you in | jjk

— pairing: boxer!jk x f. reader

— genre: fluff, slight smut | college au, boxer!jk

— word count: 3.1k

— warnings: long-haired, glasses-wearing jk, annoying and bratty oc, (shes just horny im sorry guys), neck kisses, tattoo tour by jk, a bit of past childhood story, all while jk does his coding assignment (again).

— summary: jeongguk just wants to do his coding assignment in peace. you won't let him.

— author's note: i wanted to write about jk's tattoo meaning since he shared such a personal thing with us.. but of course with boxer!gguk's oc.. that would be hard without some spice hahaha T_T tweaked some a bit to fit the non-idol nature of this jk. hope it doesnt take away the real meaning behind his tattoos :) enjoy!

masterlist | boxer!gguk masterlist

It’s ten minutes to six in the evening when you barge into Jeongguk’s bedroom to find him on his desk yet again, typing away at his laptop with glasses perched on his nose. The very same prescription glasses that made heat lick at your insides the last time you were here, a tool for his never-ending tricks of getting you to do what he wants. You’ve meditated after the events of that night to force your brain into thinking that Jeongguk in glasses does not look that hot for you to be drooling every single time, confident that you’ll get over them soon the way you got over his sleeve tattoos. One look at him now proves your efforts pointless, though, as he looks—for lack of a better word—even hotter in his glasses, black t-shirt (it’s not oversized this time!), and even longer hair than the last time you saw him.

How is it possible that you just saw him barely two weeks ago and his hair already reached his chin? (Which, combined with his glasses, makes him look so good you just want to jump him right here, right now—you already said that but whatever. Your boyfriend is hot. Period.)

Instead of saying hi like a normal girlfriend would, you climb into his lap sideways to tear his attention away from the codes on his laptop screen. Jeongguk blinks as he accepts the way your weight settles on his thighs, left arm wrapping around your body to prevent you from tilting backwards. You wrap your arms around his neck and bury your face in the crook of it, denying him of the eye-contact he tries to make.

“Hi…?” Jeongguk tries, the breath from his chuckle tickling the baby hairs on your forehead. “What are you doing here, babe?”

“Your mom let me in,” you mumble, not exactly answering his question.

“Yeah, she must have, I can see,” he muses, hands slowly going back to his keyboard to continue his assignment. “I suppose she didn’t tell you I’m doing my codes which is due tonight?”

“She did,” you hum. “She also told me to remind you to take a break and that dinner’s at seven. Told me I’m welcome to stay as well.”

“Sure you are, she loves having you around.”

“So you don’t?”

“I do,” Jeongguk chuckles. “But maybe not exactly right now. You’re warm, it’s distracting me from my codes.”

“That’s the point,” you say in a duh tone, turning your head to glance at his face. The light from his laptop screen reflects on the lens of his glasses, dancing across his brown irises in time with the speed of his fingers on the keyboard. You watch the codes go on and on for about five seconds before giving up, the array of symbols and numbers making your head spin. It’s amazing how his eyes stay unwavering behind the glasses, not at all bothered by the sheer amount of seemingly-random text on the screen.

“Why are you in glasses again? I thought you knew it does things to me.”

The way Jeongguk’s fingers halt their movement at once is almost comical.

“I’m … doing my assignment??”

You know your question sounds ridiculous and rethorical and your boyfriend’s reaction is a hundred per cent justified, but you don’t care. It’s his own fault for looking that hot in a simple getup of black t-shirt and prescription glasses, his own fault for letting his hair get so long it’s almost to his shoulder. It’s really his own fault that you’re repeating this monologue in your head, not being able to think straight anymore when your mind is echoing Jeongguk, Jeongguk, Jeongguk non-stop.

The jumbled thoughts in your mind manifests itself into you puckering up your lips to softly land them on Jeongguk’s skin, your first target being the mole on his neck. It’s one of your favorite features of his to kiss, to nip, to caress with your tongue until he’s a shuddering mess beneath your touch. You slowly trail your lips upwards to his jaw, to his cheek, to his sensitive ear where you give a small, almost playful bite with a faint scrape of your teeth. Jeongguk barely reacts, though, not even a hitch in his intakes of breath.

Instead of feeling upset, you feel more amazed at his self-restraint right now, being able to ignore his girlfriend literally sitting on his lap and peppering slow, sensual kisses on his skin. You decide to step up your game, brushing your fingertips against his skin to tuck his hair behind his ear so you can whisper into it and have your words be heard clearly.

“Wouldn’t you rather do me right now, Jeon?”

The way you let your lips faintly graze the shell of his ear is totally intentional, so is the huge sigh you let wash over the surface of his skin. Your lips go back on their journey down the side of Jeongguk’s throat, this time introducing your tongue to the equation that elicits a tiny shiver he tries to supress. His ever-so-solid resolve is starting to break and you’re happily opening your arms for when it crumbles down to the ground.

You’ve arrived back at the mole on his neck, wrapping your mouth around it before sinking down your teeth firmly on the flesh that (finally!) makes Jeongguk’s breath hitch. You continue your ministrations by licking over the bite marks, making sure to drag your tongue slowly over his reddened skin. When you start sucking on the spot to paint pretty bruises on his throat, a grip on your chin forces you to angle your head away only to receive a pair of lips over your own.

A contented sigh erupts from your chest, a sound you’re sure goes straight to Jeongguk’s nether region because he adjusts his position slightly, his left hand gripping your waist until your t-shirt is bunched up in his fist. In turn, you tighten your hold around his neck, preparing yourself for the onslaught of kisses you’re sure to receive from his warm mouth. Kisses that will lead to exciting events that involve you moaning out his name in pleasure.

Moan his name you do—in frustration in lieu of pleasure—when he pulls away from the kiss just as you were about to deepen it.

“Sorry, babe,” he says apologetically, a bit breathless from the onslaught of kisses you gave him. “But later, alright? I really need to get this done by tonight.”

Your response of quiet echoes in the room, your eyes glassy from both being clouded by lust and wanting to cry because that lust is not acted upon by your very hot boyfriend. The grip he has on your chin softens before he moves to craddle your cheek in his palm, stroking your cheekbone gently with his thumb.

“Hey,” he whispers. “I promise I will tend to your needs once I finish this assignment, okay?” When you’re still wordless, his hold on your cheek becomes firm, and you try to focus on his eyes while he talks. “Need you to promise not to distract me again, though. No orgasms if you do.”

“Nooo,” you whine, kicking your feet like a petulant child being denied a candy bar. You notice Jeongguk moving his leg yet again to adjust himself, a miniscule movement you’re sure he thinks will slip from your aroused mind. Little does he know your senses are heightened when you’re as strung up as you are right now, so you blurt out a fact that you both already know: “You’re semi-hard already!”

Jeongguk scoffs. “Yeah, your kisses are killer, baby.”

You continue to jut your bottom lip out, hoping it will be enough to change his mind. Jeongguk sighs, lips pulled into a straight line which makes the mole under his lip peek out, tempting you to lean forward to land a smooch on it. Before you have a chance to act out your thoughts, you’re halted by a firm grip on your shoulder courtesy of Jeongguk’s right hand. The hand that extends to a muscular, bulky, tattooed arm.

His tattoos. How could you forget about their existence only because of the twin lenses perched on his nose? How could you forget that before those goddamn glasses, it was those ink on his arm that made you weak in the knees? How could you?

Whatever words Jeongguk is saying right now sound like white noise to you, your eyes focused on the taut muscle of his bicep and the colored masks peeking from under his short sleeve. They seem to be dancing in your eyes, the blacks mingling with the colors contrasting the milky white of his skin tone, painting a beautiful picture with a story only he can tell.

When you speak next, you sound like you’re in a trance.

“Your tattoos … God, why are you so hot?”

Your boyfriend halts himself mid-sentence, round eyes blinking owlishly at your dazed expression before he follows your line of sight, chuckling when he realizes how focused you are on the tattoos on his arm. “Still loving the inks?”

You let out an affirmative hum, fingers slowly tracing the red tiger lily flower on his forearm. “You know … you never told me what your tattoos mean.”

“Really?” He lets go of your shoulder to fix his glasses before going back to his keyboard, fingers hovering over the keys and ready to type again. “I just assumed you already know some of them.”

“Well, just ones you got super early,” you say, grabbing his right arm to turn it around, searching for the tattoo you’re talking about. “Like this flower, and the Chinese saying on your elbow. And here … didn’t you use to have three stripes over here?”

“I did,” Jeongguk confirms, softly pulling his arm from your grasp to take your hand in his to offer a bargain and plead if he has to. “I’ll explain one by one, but you have to promise to let me do my assignment. It really is due tonight at eleven fifty nine, and I’m only about three-quarters done. Please, babe?”

You pout. “It’s not like I’m not letting you work on purpose …” The look Jeongguk gives you is enough to make you relent. “Okay, fine, I’ll just sit here and trace your tattoos while you explain and work on your codes.”

“Good girl.”

You refuse to admit those two words have such an effect on you that you have to hold down a shiver like Jeongguk did earlier. Instead, you move your fingers to trace your boyfriend’s skin once again, finally settling on the cover-up of the three stripes tattoo he used to have near his wrist.

“Okay, this one. Why a snake?”

Jeongguk stops typing for a second to glance at the tattoo even though he only has one involving a snake. “Oh, we start heavy,” he chuckles. “Uh … how do I say this? You know that snakes shed skin, right? They do that to give way for a new one, for me that symbolizes growth. So this snake is to say that I want to keep growing … to be a better person every day.”

“That’s very … deep of you,” you say, entranced. “What about this treble clef? Always wondered about this one, honestly, does it have to do with the fact that you used to sing in junior high?”

Your fingers brush against the musical note next to the snake, one that you remember being there since the start and didn’t undergo a cover-up.

The smile Jeongguk slips out is wistful, the way his thumb joins yours in caressing the tattoo tells you that this ink is one of the important ones for him.

“Do you see it connected to a chain?” His finger trails said chain, until it reaches a mic and further back to a clock he has near his elbow. “And it connects to a mic, then a clock with the time of my birth. It was three twenty-three, or three twenty-six? Yeah, around that time …” He continues stroking the numbers on the clock. “And you’re right. I’ve always wanted to be a singer ever since I was little, a fact I’m sure you know from all those years listening to me sing growing up.”

You do remember the times when he would sing all day, on the way to school, in between classes, on school functions, on the way home. There was never silence in your friendship, either filled by his wonderful voice or by the sound of you two bickering. You thought it was just a phase, because as soon as you stepped into high school, he closed the mic and started his rainbow-colored-tshirt phase. It never occured to you that it was a buried dream he kept alive by blowing on the dying embers.

“Why didn’t you pursue it?” Your whisper rings loud in the quiet room.

“Singing?” He shakes his head. “Too many obstacles, not enough resources. Wasn’t worth my whole life to pursue something too unclear.” His fingers brush the clock tattoo all the way to the treble clef. “This is just a tribute to my childhood, a reminder that once upon a time, there was Little Jeongguk who dreamed to sing. A reminder to keep that dream alive, even by mere inks on my arm. Who knows, maybe one day you could see me on TV, singing those crappy pop song with my melodious voice, charming everyone in town.”

Jeongguk grins, and that’s enough to tell you that he has made his peace with the situation. He taps the tattoo twice, motioning for you to continue tracing over them for new meanings and new stories.

Your finger points to the tiger lily next to the treble clef, one of your favorite tattoos of his. It’s drawn in a way that it covers three words behind it: Please love me, in bold capital letters. You wonder if the two has any connection or if it was just placed like that for creative purposes.

“It’s my birth flower,” Jeongguk starts. “Tiger lily as a birth flower symbolizes confidence, pride. I want to always be confident even in places I wouldn’t normally be, so this tattoo is just to remind me of that.” His thumb rubs over the red-orange flower fondly. “Plus, it’s pretty, don’t you think?”

“It is,” you agree, liking the ink even more after knowing the meaning behind the beautiful shape and color. You realize he missed the explanation for the three words behind the tiger lily, so you inquire with a swipe of your thumb over the black letters. “Does this have to do with the flower in any way?”

“Oh, yeah, I’ve read some people said that tiger lily also means ‘I dare you to love me’ or ‘Please love me’, so I put the two together like that,” he explains, a playful lilt suddenly present in the tone of his next words. “Kind of a nudge at you too, though, when we were going away for college and you still saw me as the scrawny kid who you’ve gone through childhood with.”

You groan. “Will you stop?? I didn’t know!”

“Well, to be fair, neither did I until too late into the college years where I couldn’t see you whenever I wanted like I had used to, so. There’s that.”

“So you just realized that you liked me after being away from me for, what, two years?”

“Yep.”

“Very late realization, indeed,” you muse. “So, tattoo tour, over?”

“You haven’t even gotten to my upper arm yet.” Jeongguk rubs over his bulging bicep all the way to his shoulder, sliding the short sleeve of his t-shirt upwards for you to get a clear view of his shoulder tattoo. “Oh, and my shoulder too.”

“Well, I’d love to, but you’ve gotten preoccupied with explaining your tattoos to me that you haven’t touched your codes for the past fifteen minutes.” You grimace while looking at the blinking cursor on his screen. “But okay, I’ll bite. What is that on your shoulder? I can’t ever seem to figure it out.”

“Supposed to be a moon,” he says nonchalantly, sliding the sleeve back down to block your view of the fading tattoo. It looks rather gray against his skin compared to the other black or colorful ones, the odd one out among the others. “But it’s kinda ruined now and I need to get it recolored or covered up, which I’m too lazy to do so it just sits there like that for now.”

“Recolored?” An idea pops into your head. “How about I recolor it for you?”

Without waiting for his answer, you proceed to lean over his torso to slide his sleeve back up before promptly sinking your teeth down on the flesh, eliciting a surprised yelp out of him. Soothing the skin with your tongue, you make sure to trace the drawing with that wet muscle of yours slowly, sensually, so he’s reminded of the reason you’re here in the first place.

When you start sucking on the reddened flesh, he lets out a shuddering breath while holding your waist in a vice grip. He doesn’t pull you away, though, so you see it as a green light to continue. Might as well take your chance while you still can.

After several more bites, licks, and sucks, you deem his skin colorful enough to pull away. You brush your thumb over the pretty artwork you’ve just done on your boyfriend, feeling proud of your “recoloring” work. “There, all recolored.”

Jeongguk lets out a huge sigh, resigned to his fate. “You’re really horny, aren’t you?”

“Very.”

“Still wet from earlier?” He lifts one eyebrow, challenging.

“Always wet for you, baby.”

“Fuck.” Jeongguk takes a glance at the clock before pulling his glasses off his nose. “We got ten minutes.” He leans forward to connect his lips to yours, this time not hesitating to use his tongue and teeth. His right hand slips underneath the band of your sweatpants, past your underwear to swipe at your clit before teasing a dip at your entrance, making you moan.

“Huh, was about to ask if ten minutes is enough,” he says before biting your bottom lip. “If you’re this wet we’re gonna finish in five.”

“Fuck, I don’t care how long, just stop teasing and make me cum already.”

“So demanding. Watch that mouth when I give you two back to back.”

“Was hoping you’d give me more—oh.”

It’s gonna be a really packed ten minutes.

a/n: jk's tattoo tour felt like a fever dream—but maybe that's just because i dreamed of him doing the exact same thing around 3 years ago.. anyway. really thankful that he decided to share such a personal part of his life to us :') any feedbacks (and maybe ideas for the next shenanigans this couple could pull off) are welcome in my askbox or here! thank you for reading :D

[rosewaterandivy]

fightin' to get better

modern!eddie x f!reader

summary: eddie does his damndest to get us out of the study to take a frickin' break.

a/n: My blog is 18 +, minors DNI; purely self-indulgent smut and prosaic idolatry here, my usual brand of filth.

🎶 ooh, let you slide up your hand, uh oh, let go all of my plans 🎶

Grad school could suck a dick. A whole bag of ‘em as far as you were concerned. The entirety of your summer had been taken up by this final class— a subject you loved, but far too much reading and work assigned for the condensed semester.

Eddie thought so too.

The man was quick to chime in when you’d had a glass of wine or two and finally extricated yourself from the front room you’d claimed as an office. Couldn’t understand how you would be complaining one minute and then the second he adds his two cents, you’re defending the professor in question.

But then again, you’d always been tender-hearted.

Which more than explained your penchant for collecting strays, present company excluded, naturally.

“That’s it,” he says, fingers working to peel the damp label from the beer bottle. “First thing tomorrow, I’m gettin’ on the horn with this so-called professor.”

“Eddieeee,” you whine, lips falling into a pout. “Don’t do that.”

He leans into it really playing it up, an eye roll and scoff combo, head inclining to rest on your shoulder as he falls on you dramatically.

“Can’t have my best girl pulling all-nighters every other week.”

His voice was softer, not laced with his typical jocular tone. The bright images of the screen dance across your faces in the cool room. Eddie settles against you, warm breath fanning across your chest and neck.

He can see the subtle dark hues beneath your eyes, hates the evidence of your sleepless nights spent in front of the computer, nose buried in a book.

“I know,” you rasp after a beat or two. “I’ll get better baby, I promise. S’just a few more weeks and then I’m army-crawling to the finish line.”

He cracks a smile, unable to hide his elation at your accomplishment— at you.

Eddie Munson and his genius girlfriend, who would’ve thought?

—

So it really shouldn’t be a surprise a week or two later when Eddie wanders into the study to find you up at all hours of the night. Again.

“Babe—”

“Jesus Christ!” You jolt in your chair, startled by the sound, and slowly swivel toward him. A deep breath once you realize who it is, eyes adjusting to the darkness of the room.

And, sure enough, your boyfriend is standing there wiping the sleep from his eyes, sporting his Suspiria sweats and looking entirely displeased.

“God Eds, make a noise! You’re like Ruth Gordon just standing there with a tannis root.”

He crosses his arms with a sign, ignoring your barb. Ruth Gordon, with her blue eye shadow and head scarf? Puh-leeze.

“You said you’d be ten minutes.”

You shudder at the timbre of his voice— raspy and low, hitting the sweet spot that sends heat rushing to your core.

“Shit, I’m sorry, babe.”

Glasses discarded and hair askew, you sigh catching the time and start to pack it in for the night.

Eddie is surprisingly quick for someone snatched from sleep and dreaming, he turns your chair away from the desk and fixes you with a look.

The penetrating kind, where he squints and tilts his head like he just can’t figure you out. And yeah, he’s never really understood academia or why the books you’ve had to buy are always so damn expensive. But he does his best to support you, reminds you to eat and sleep more than he’d like because you have the tendency of getting too caught up and distracted.

His gaze softens, “C’mere pretty girl.”

Eddie picks you up and throws you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, despite your protests. Smacks your ass for good measure.

“M’gonna fall!”

“No, you aren’t,” he tuts, “Such a drama queen.”

He barrels through the dark house only to deposit you in the dimly lit bathroom. A shaft of light eeks in from a partially opened closet door, candles flickering on countertops catching their reflections in the mirror.

Right side up again, you pause and take a look around. The bathtub is filling up, bubbles growing in soft peaks of foam, and a bath bomb fizzles away, painting the water in candy-colored hues.

There’s a glass of wine and another of ice water, sweating against the ledge of the tub. An iPad propped up in the corner, your favorite show cued up and ready to go.

“Baby,” you say, turning back to him, voice barely above a whisper. “What is all this?”

He takes a step toward you, the slightest inclination of his chin prompting your hands to rise above your head. Eddie’s nimble fingers find the hem of your shirt and tug it upwards, soft fabric brushing against your skin only to be kissed with damp heat.

“Jus’ wanna take care of you,” he says simply, quietly. As if he’d rather do nothing else.

“Oh.”

His fingers alight on the waist of your shorts, thumbs hooking in and pulling down.

“Hmm.” He says, kneeling in front of you, brow quirked and eyes seeking yours. “Feelin’ lucky today or—"

The heat rises in your chest and neck, hands flying to cover your face while he lazily peruses your bare form.

Not so much luck as it was sheer exhaustion that informed your sartorial choices and distinct lack of underwear today, but you’ll take what you can get.

His breath ghosts along your thighs, muscles tightening inadvertently, the coil in your stomach winding taut.

As you step out of the shorts, Eddie turns off the faucet and herds you back against the sink. A brief lift and you're sitting on the countertop, legs splayed, head falling against the cool mirror behind you.

Eddie buries his head between your legs, and smothers praises between your thighs.

Eddie's pretty sentimental with oral— kissing, kissing, kissing— can't stop his lips from meandering, can't stop his mouth from savoring. He noses against your slit, tongue darting out to taste. A low rumble ripped from his chest as the slick muscle works against your petaled heat, savoring the arousal gathered there.

He gets dizzy off it. Selfish for it. It all goes to his head— whimpers and moans falling from your candy-pink mouth, a prolonged whine of his name.

Left, then right, back over again. Drowsy roaming paths, curving and bending, pleased when you arch into his mouth, forever wanting more. Licks you for hours like you’re the last bit of sweetness in the world, savors it long and lazy and delicate.

"Sweetheart," he sighs, pulling away briefly. Lips ruddy and wet with your slick, smiling slow and dangerous, “You’re fucking delicious, baby.”

You moan on his clever tongue and the sloppy sounds he makes. He's always stunning— eager and devoted to the singular task of lapping at you like a starved man.

Two fingers twist inside before he turns them back and shoves them in his own mouth. He repeats this again and again, like pulling a secret from your body that only he’s allowed to enjoy.

“Yes,” he sighs, “Fuck yes. Fuck—mmm—"

It's as if you're on the precipice of a coming storm, pressure building, and rising, too, in your belly, as he works into your body, heavy-lidded and transfixed on your beautiful face. Deeper until you’re shaking, pulling your legs up over his shoulders, getting him closer, closer, closer.

Your toes curl.

"Eddie—"

You shatter like a splinter of lightning. It bursts across your skin—a bright, brief halo—before it’s gone, chased by the explosion of swollen clouds. He muffles a loud fuck! into the meat of your ass, while his fingers continue to corkscrew inside of you.

He's wet down to his wrist, coaxing vestiges of arousal from you, and rises to kiss your open, panting mouth, your exposed throat. Eddie's lips turned wicked and desperate when he asks, "Think you can gimme another one?"

Nodding dumbly, bath and freshly laundered sheets completely forgotten, you watch as he all but yanks you down further, ass now hanging off the countertop. Swings your legs over his shoulders and dives back in, your cunt now positively flooded due to his velvet tongue.

On the bright side, this all-nighter was exceedingly better than the one you had planned; you wouldn't have it any other way. Well played Eddie Munson.

Well played.

[citizenscreen]

Ricardo Cortez and Barbara Stanwyck in TEN CENTS A DANCE (1931), directed by Lionel Barrymore

[blankvort]

tangentially animal-related hcs 4 the mean girls crew bc i am now responsible for giving a goldfish daddy issues

cady

inexplicably allergic to dogs and always in the first four stages of grief about it. don’t @ me about the medical semantics i just want her to suffer a little

tried to get a job at petco the second she turned eighteen but learned of the above information in the most destructive job interview since janis’s application to be the local coffee shop’s cool gay barista (they were worried that she’d swear at fighter-jet-takeoff volumes if she touched hot coffee) (she did, but only because they started playing a shitty pop cover of one of damian’s fave show tunes) and came out of the building a puddle of mucous and tears

grossly fascinated by the grossest of primitive functions. her insta page is all dope and authentic until you find a selfie taken using the back camera 0.5x with the corpse of an effervescent snail and a bunch of reels telling you how to narrow down what bird species are destroying your garden by the splay of their shit

has a miniature aneurysm whenever movies get stuff wrong about animals. artistic liberties are granted to janis alone. like sure if she’s in the theater she’ll sit through the movie fisting popcorn down her throat but as soon as she gets out of there the entire mall becomes a soapbox for dissecting the bullshit sexual dimorphism of giving female animals eyeliner

thus while i know the headcanon of her loving the lion king is basically canon i think she’s absurdly secretive about it. like she’s burying her merchandise and blu-ray copies under her bed in the dead of night while secreting more sweat than should be possible. she could come out to her parents and elope to antarctica no problem but liking the lion king which implies that lighter manes = stronger lions is a death sentence

probably got banned from a bunch of zoos for interrupting field trips 

janis

had one of those angel/wolf/dragon/whatever hybrid phases as a kid like all good artists. did those like. not quite furry but not quite human animal art commissions on twitter for a while for the funnies but discovered a lucrative market and never turned back

does not know how to hold human or animal babies. like she’s good at taking care of them in terms of general physical and intellectual nourishment but that limp wrist is not supporting any necks properly

mercilessly makes fun of the whole “would you love me if i was a worm” trend. she doesn’t even love most humans what makes you think she has any answer for you regarding that other than that she’d turn you into a super deep art piece museums would purchase for exorbitant amounts

that being said she feels like a vivarium girlie to me. she’s nocturnal like a pillbug and post-canon constantly tries to convince the plastics that her pacman frog is poisonous

feeds her meticulously decorated ant farm gourmet meals every day. anyone else gets microwavable mac and cheese at best

this one probably won’t make sense unless you’re a jenny nicholson fan but she has a fake id for buying wine and turning the corks into those hallmark craft animal sculptures (and selling the open wine bottle to mrs george in back alleys)

damian

his grandma owns the most omnicidal chihuahua in the state of chicago. it’s how he learned to dance with such mental and physical dexterity. how else would he have survived visits to the nursing home

^ attempted to adopt the chihuahua’s children to have his own bruiser woods moment. turns out, even with his classically trained tenor voice, puppies and janis respond to the “drop it” command much the same way. that is to say they do not drop it and the puppies ran away with ninety nine per cent of his anastasia-inspired music box memorabilia

has a love-hate relationship with cats the musical. like memory is one of his top ten karaoke songs but he’s not going to admit it until he’s several fruity seltzers into the night. wishes all the actors in the movie had been replaced with real cats picked off the street before anything else was approved

played milky white in a scammy local production of into the woods and so so so embarrassed about it. he had to be on stilts the whole show

stuck a fish in regina’s backpack sometime in sophomore year but found karen feeding it and talking to it about her worst fears and greatest dreams felt too guilty to continue with the next phase of his plan (sticking a very hot picture of janis in regina’s backpack) (karen probably would’ve tried to talk to the photo too)

regina

musical specific but i think she didn’t Exactly do a matching animal costume with gretch and karen because 1) what can you dress up as when your friends are going as a cat and a mouse. cheese? 2) had cady not moved into the neighborhood, she’d have gone as a sexy lion to ease into the prospect of. you know. with shane oman but going as a sexy lion when your shiny new homoerotic frenemy has a lion pin on half her clothing isn’t quite a non-questionable choice

had a warrior cats phase she keeps under lock and key in the very depths of her closet. her closet is an iceberg of issues that goes shein -> homosexuality -> warrior cats and climate change is doing a number on it

fried a couple of janis’s ants alive with a magnifying glass sometime before middle school. she’s never flirted normally in her life

the bulk of janis’s furry commission clientele. she has so many emails for alternate accounts that she could get every american president ever suspended from twitter if national security let her. that’s including the dead ones

remember the nigh-rabid chihuahuas damian had. yeah she’s been raising those in secret for a few years now. mrs george doesn’t notice because regina hides them in her hair and extensions are, like, totally in or whatever

had a horse girl phase. all her drawings of horses came out like this meme tho. the art freaks nickname was born out of jealousy

gretchen

chose to be a sexy cat for halloween to match with karen because she has no sense of identity. also because she remembers regina’s warrior cats phase

actually a guinea pig person. i’ve never met a guinea pig person but she feels like one. they’re both in dire need of daily interaction and likely polyamorous

but also peri-canon gretchen could not keep a pet alive she’d spend every cent of the wieners fortune on buying the animal’s love

speaking of. her family bought a stable to fuel “her” horse girl phase. she just wanted to make regina happy and couldn’t stay on a saddle if there was an escalator that plopped her right on the horse

cares about the puppy bowl more than she cares about the superbowl

instinctively pets cute animals. if they bite her then she deserved it

karen

chose to be a sexy mouse for halloween because tom and jerry was having a media marathon and she’s into that sort of power dynamic

believes in unicorns more than she believes in horses. this is because she had a horse girl phase for the hottest of seconds before realizing that none of the ponies at the apache trail sale had horns and thought they had their horns cut off for aesthetic reasons

animals love her so much. survived a jellyfish attack because the jellyfish sensed she just wanted to pet something shiny and absolutely respected that. pests of all shapes and sizes evict themselves stat when karen says her mom doesn’t appreciate her hundred thousand dollar lotions being invaded by peril-bringing insects. strays follow her 24/7. gretchen is jealous (of the animals)

thinks tigers are very sick zebras

thinks blobfish are cuter when they’re all flesh putty out of their natural habitats but would also break into a zoo if she thought the animals were being mistreated

was banned from australia at the age of eight because she tried to have a sleepover in a kangaroo’s pouch

aaron

mean girls insta described him as a golden retriever so i’m also hcing him as being allergic to dogs <3 equality

becomes deeply fearful of all fauna after falling into a research rabbit hole for the sake of connecting with cady. what do you mean buffalo are some of the deadliest beasts on the planet and not just a type of chicken wing

kevin g

a preteen vsco girl in her granola advocacy era stuck in a teenage boy’s body. he has saved more turtles than any natucate volunteer by repurposing his rejected business cards to make a selfie stick long enough to stick him in the same selfie as gretchen wieners. the selfie stick has been in progress since daycare. he has also gone to the hospital more than any natucate volunteer do not trust this man with shop class equipment

[kaphzzz]

hi, https://www.tumblr.com/kaphzzz/718898842212433920 on the fifth photo you have arthur/charles in this position, just wondering how did you do that? what mod did you use? I’ve been trying to find an animation/scenario mod where you can put in two npcs (like dancing, brawling etc) for photos, and you’re the only person I’ve come across so far who seems like they have something like that :”) sorry if I’ve got it wrong!

hi!!! ur good!! you mean this one?

i use rampage trainer! it has thousands of scenarios and tens of thousands of animations! altho when i first got rampage it was missing a lot of its animation dictionaries for some reason so i had to write a parser to get the anims from a datamined anim file from the rdr3_discoveries github repo. if thats also the case for you heres the link to the full list i parsed that you can replace /RampageFiles/Lists/PedAnimList.txt with:

(on kind of a side note i think it takes away a bit of the 'magic', if u will, from ppl who dont play with mods looking at these kind of staged/posed pics without knowing exactly how they were forced into these positions (lol) if the process is laid out but nonetheless im happy to explain as best i can :3)

so in general since its pretty much impossible to know all 40000+ animations you just kind of try to find one that has at least one frame of animation that suits the pose you have in mind and just sort of play with it until you get a shot thats just right. for me i knew i wanted a pose for leaning back against the table and one for leaning forward with hands placed on the table, so for chorles i think i used (this was a while ago i cant remember exactly sorry!) one of the scenarios you get with key word "lean" and it was probably the lean back wall scenario, and for orther it was read train plans or bank teller lean on counter... but yeah in general you kind of just have to browse through thw scenarios and animations and keep track of interesting ones you might want to use later, and try to match the anims (if they move around a lot) to get a good snap of when they are in a position you like!

idk how others do it but thats how i do it. probably not the most efficient workflow but i have yet to browse thru all the anims so i can only work with the anims im familiar with.

if you want dancing, try searching for related keywords. rampage allows you to search for keywords for both scenarios and animations! once ur familiar with how they name their animations you should be able to find just about anything. for dancing just searching for "dance" should prompt quite a few results.

as for brawling i think actually making ur characters fight would be the best way to take action pics. in rampage u can also change ur model and spawn npcs and force them to fight u. u can also get the battle creator mod to spawn fights as well.

btw if ur looking for anything similar to this specific pic, i actually think @foundynnel might know more about intimate/suggestive animations and scenarios given some very cute sadie/arthur pics they've made, hiiii @foundynnel sorry to bother u but if u see this would u like to throw in ur two cents? 🥺🌹 i could learn a thing or two as well! 💕

[sixteenstrikes]

PLEASE talk more about DurgeWyll and Hozier, PLEASE... I am rotating the songs you posted and the vision is so good

thank you for asking me :) (the doors close sealing you in the crypt)

i joke. ok first of all i need to cite ten @bladesmitten as a resident durgewyll expert and direct you to his blog... she's written some incredible fic & analysis of the durgewyll romance and made a lot of gorgeous wyll edits and art in general, can't rec his blog enough.

i have sadly never played through the durgewyll romance & only watched it so there are undoubtedly story details i am unaware of. alas i have only played the tav version of his romance so far

some spoilers for durge beneath the cut. i tried to be vague but a warning there. also i didnt stick my oar into unreal unearth or any of the adjacent eps for that album .. sorry

all that being said here are my 2 cents

i think the main draw for picking hozier songs for durgewyll is that incredibly sexy dynamic they have of being each other's foil as well as each other's love interest. both wyll and durge are bound to an inescapable doom within the story: to pay with their body and soul for the fate of baldur's gate. durge must destroy it to please their father, wyll must save it. (wyll's saved it already, at the cost of his soul, and durge has to sacrifice their soul to destroy it as (redacted), but i wont go further on that tangent lol. its fascinating though.)

i think a core concept of wyll to focus on here as well is his faith. in his act 2 dance scene, in response to one of the dialogue options, wyll replies that he 'still keeps faith in the old tales of true love'- this is crucial. wyll is the man to whom the gods gave a cold shoulder. he has no love or faith for them. but he keeps faith in the old tales- he keeps faith, specifically, in durge.. 'his greatest adventure'.. and if durge chooses to resist their father's authority, they spurn a god for wyll's sake. there's an incredible amount of mutual devotion there.

there is also the monster hunter/monster dynamic. i haven't delved into it much here bc i am more interested in how eerily wyll and durge parallel each other as twin mirrors and exiles from the gate, the light and dark sides, sharing almost a common doom, trapped in the long shadows of their fathers.... man. but the monster dynamic should absolutely be examined and explored, it's fascinating. i think it's another compelling aspect of wyll's character. he's a man with a lot of resonant contradictions. a monster hunter who refuses to hunt the monster of baldur's gate and instead severs them from the one who made them .... a monster hunter who holds out his hand to the monster he is supposed to kill... wyll's love of the mysterious and strange and his kindness, i think, predispose him to see durge as an ally and a friend. not from naivete, but from an open heart

my hozier picks for durgewyll overall:

it will come back - i love the way the view shifts in this. one of my top durgewyll picks for the way it evokes a lot of the horror & tragedy that wyll looks into and doesnt flinch away from & the hunger durge has toward wyll extending his own lonely & friendly hand

shrike - i see this as primarily from durge's view. picked for the devotion & regret

NFWMB - applies beautifully to both of them. theeeee durgewyll song to me from andy's works... consider the lyrics from both person's perspective to feel the world open beneath your feet lol

as it was - ditto, i think it encompasses both perspectives. also one of my favorite songs he wrote so im biased lmao. i think this is another very resonant choice for the durgewyll dynamic

like real people do - feels an overly obvious pick but it could work especially well for a resist durge

no plan - could be an intriguing choice. i can't quite swing it but some of the lines in this for durgewyll... i like them...

you could definitely make a case for from eden for another from durge's view. gives me a feeling of a durge who's not resisting but idk

[margotfonteyns]

Bewitched: Ladies Sing Rodgers & Hart

01 - Ruth Etting - Ten Cents A Dance (1930) 02 - Helen Ward - Blue Moon (1935) 03 - Maxine Sullivan - Spring Is Here (1938) 04 - Helen Humes - Sing For Your Supper (1939) 05 - Bea Wain - I Didn't Know What Time It Was (1939) 06 - Adelaide Hall - The Lady Is A Tramp (1940) 07 - Helen Forrest - Bewitched (1941) 08 - Lena Horne - Where Or When (1941) 09 - Hazel Scott - Dancing On The Ceiling (1947) 10 - Lee Wiley - Manhattan (1950) 11 - Betty Carter - I Could Write A Book (1955) 12 - Helen Merrill - Wait Till You See Him (1955) 13 - June Christy - You Took Advantage Of Me (1956) 14 - Peggy Lee - It Never Entered My Mind (1956) 15 - Jeri Southern - He Was Too Good To Me (1956) 16 - Ella Fitzgerald - A Ship Without A Sail (1956) 17 - Sarah Vaughan - A Tree In The Park (1956) 18 - Abbey Lincoln - This Can't Be Love (1956) 19 - Carmen McRae - Isn't It Romantic? (1958) 20 - Billie Holiday - Glad To Be Unhappy (1958) 21 - Blossom Dearie - To Keep My Love Alive (1960) 22 - Anita O'Day - Johnny One Note (1960) 23 - Nancy Wilson - Little Girl Blue (1962)

Bonus Tracks:

24 - Mary Lou Williams (piano) - Lover (1954) 25 - Dorothy Ashby (harp) - Thou Swell (1956)

Download: flac / mp3

[dragonclawfromspace10]

(I know it's kinda strange to put a colored version first, and then an uncovered version second, but the papered drawings are separate and easier.)

Name: Sunshine Samuel Cole

Alais: Sunny, Kiddo, Buddy, Brother, Bro, Sun Absorber, El Dorado

Likes: Hanging out with family and friends, pranking with Ten Cents, relaxing in the sun, animals and critters, lemons, money, singing and dancing, working hard, horror movies, doing the right thing

Dislikes: Bullies, being short, real horror, his father smoking, doing the wrong thing, tree logs, the dark, having allergies

Powers/Abilities: Transforming into a tug, super strength and agility, super sonic shreik, shooting fireballs from his mouth, intelligence

Biography: Sunshine once lived Up River with Billy Shoepack, who he was good friends with.

Capt. Starr saw greatness in him, and hired him to join the Star Fleet to help with the extra work. That was then him and Ten Cents became best friends, and helped to bring Dutches in while Big Mac was unavailable. Unaware of Zorran sneaking up on him, he crashed into Dutches's rudder, which left a small scar on his bow. Becoming depressed about his failure, he ran away and tried to head back Up River in the fog. To his dismay, he crashed into sandbar. Thinking that these were his final moments, Ten Cents and the other Stars found Sunshine, and told him that it was Zorran who pushed him. Happy to hear that he didn't fail, the others took him back home to heal, and he became an honorary new member of Star Fleet.

Personality: He can occasionally be cheeky at times, but is strong-willed nonetheless. He is quick-witted and takes action swiftly without hesitation. He is generally level-headed and cheerful, and takes on most jobs with little complaints. He also has a crush on Sally Seaplane.

He is very bright, which can also mean intelligent as he's able to quickly figure things out, such at when Ten Cents's hooter was the coincidence for Boomer's jinx, suggesting a cause-and-effect relationship.

In early stages of his life, he was less obedient and liked to do things like Billy Shoepack did. However, upon growing up, he wanted to feel more useful, and that's one of the reasons why he joined Star Fleet.

Relationships: Ever since his first day in Bigg City Port, he had gotten along with almost everyone, including his fellow Stars, and his "big brother" Ten Cents. He was afraid of the Z-Stacks for a while because of what Zorran did, but he soon grew a little closer because of his father, Zak.

When he met Zak and discovered he was his father, he was overwhelmed and hurt that he was the one that left him on Billy's doorstep as a baby, and that he didn't do anything to stop Zorran from bumping into him. But because he's a very forgiving boy, he was willing to come closer to Zak, and refer to him as "Dad". He was dismayed that Zak didn't want him to tell the others yet as he was excited to tell his fellow Stars. So far, Ten Cents had been the only one Sunshine revealed to about Zak and made him promise not to tell the others as he had a hard time keeping secrets.

Obvious enough, Sunshine developed a crush on Sally Seaplane and is currently too shy to express his feelings towards her. Everyone is aware of it, even when he does his best to hide it.

[averageschooltheatremoments]

Actual goddamn things people said/did during my school’s production of Newsies

Stage crew writes “troll strike” instead of “trolley strike”

Ensemble: “Every small child is going to think you’re an evil old man.” Pulitzer: “Well maybe I am”

“See kid? Women have legs too!”

“Romeo we can see you dancing backstage”

The villains and Theodore Roosevelt dancing

Davey: “This day will go down in PISSTOR- I MEAN HISTORY”

“If I drop my cello, PLEASE kill me.”

*holding glass upside down* “TEN CENTS FOR A GLASS OF SELTZER??!”

Davey: *Points at painting of Santa Fe* “Is this Arizona?”

Davey and Spot Collin keep shaking hands and then pretending to kiss

PULITZER KEPT ALMOST FALLING OFF THE STAGE

*backstage* “Uhmmm…why is there a box of dog food here?”

Jack: “You got a name, Katherine?”

Katherine: “Just think, while my father is…slipping??…we’ll be…taking him down!!” (She was great I wish I got to know her better before she graduated)

Spot was Pulitzer’s backup so when Pulitzer was sick the final confrontation scene was…interesting.

“OH I get fishnets :)”

Katherine: “And if I was a boy, I’d be…looking at you through one swollen eye!!” (It’s supposed to be “you’d be looking at me”)

Nun: *running around backstage* “I’m a nun on the run”

“I just don’t think committing suicide would be very fun y’know?”

“YOU CAN’T JUST PUT FIRE ON THE FLOOR!”

*Ensemble Newsie falls over* Weasel: “…Guess I have to” *pretends to kick them*

Jack drops all of his coins everywhere all over the stage

Jack: “You bet! Me n’ the boys will take a Journal over to the hike!”

Jacoby: (to a Newsie) “Don’t swing that aroun-“ *Does exactly that and spills a glass of water* “Oops.”

Davey: “Inspirational Speech time guys”

Les: “Are you kiddin’? She got no legs on!”

Pulitzer: “An escaped thief and petty…thief.”

AT THE END OF THE SHOW THE SENIORS GAVE THE BAND TEACHER A PINEAPPLE???

[sonofarathorn]

Lessons Learned

Pairing: Frat Boy!Billy Russo x F!Reader Word Count: 1.8k Warnings: Smut (18+ only). Mentions of Alcohol. Unprotected Sex. Spanking. Orgasm Denial. A/N: Here is my fashionably late submission for @33max's writing challenge. I've had this concept in my head for quite a few months, so it was very fun getting to finally write it.

SUMMER OF CUM: DAY TWO - ORGASM DENIAL

The frat house is loud, and packed to the brim. People in varying stages of sobriety laugh and talk in small groups, their fingers wrapped around red Solo cups and silver cans of cheap beer. Music blares from large speakers, and sweaty bodies twist and grind, spellbound by the pounding bass.

You can hear people standing outside the bedroom door, laughing and talking. Constantly in competition with the trashy pop; shouting for their anecdotes, gripes, and flirts to be heard. 

It’s not the most ideal time or place to fuck. Hidden in Billy’s shared room with a crowd of people just outside. Bent over his lofted twin bed, hoping the squeak of the springs can’t be heard over the din of the party. 

Not that you can really complain about time and place, it’s your fault you’re in this position…literally. 

You just had to dance with Brad–or was his name Noah? Had to let Brad-Or-Noah feel you up while you grinded against him. And had to throw heavy-lidded looks and smirks Billy’s way the entire time. 

Well, you poke a bear, you deal with the consequences. The consequences: being fucked into the mattress while 50 Cent played in the background.  

Not that you were complaining. This was the kind of trouble you loved to get yourself into. The kind of trouble that would leave your legs like jelly, and your body filled with a warm, gooey feeling. The kind of trouble that would instantly replay in your mind with just a glance at the shallow teeth marks on your shoulder, and the tender bruises etched into your hips and thighs in the shape of ten perfect fingerprints. 

“Fuck, Billy,” you mumble, as he rolls you onto your stomach. 

Billy groans, and pushes the folds of your dress higher up your body. His hands slide up your side, and he squeezes your breasts. “You just had to wear this dress, didn’t you?” He asks, tweaking your nipples. “You know what it does to me.” 

Yeah, him and every other guy and girl in the near vicinity. 

“Think you did it on purpose,” Billy says through gritted teeth. “Just like I think you danced with Jason on purpose too.” 

“Oh, was that his name?” You ask, smirking at Billy over your shoulder. “I just picked the second hottest guy in the room.” 

You’re rewarded with a sharp smack to your ass. You bite your bottom lip, muffling the cry that rips from your throat. Billy smirks, and spanks you again. This time you can’t help the reedy moan that leaves your lips. 

Fuck, you loved getting him all riled up. 

“Ya trying to make me jealous, baby?” He rubs the sting away. 

“Depends. Is it working?” You raise an eyebrow. 

“No,” he says, cooly, and his hand slides around your body to tease the waistband of your underwear. “Can’t be jealous of him. He doesn’t have you in his bed right now, does he?” 

“You don’t really have me in your bed either. More like bed-adjacent.” You grab his wrist and press his fingers firmly against your clit.

Billy chuckles and rubs slow circles, earning him a small moan from you. “That’s the game we’re playing tonight?” His other hand slides up your back and fists in your hair. 

You groan when he tugs your head back. “What game?”

“The game where your mouth gets you into trouble, and I have to punish you for it.” He nips your ear and your clit throbs. “Keep talking, sweetheart. We’ve got all night.” He lets you fall forward again. 

Your cheek hits the cool comforter. “Just wanted your attention.” 

“Easier ways to do that, honey. Could’ve just asked me to dance.” He deftly unbuckles his belt and pulls it through the loops of his jeans. 

“It’s more fun this way.” 

Billy hums and pops the button of his jeans. “That right? How so?” 

“Cuz I get to see that cute little furrow between your eyebrows when you frown,” you say and Billy scoffs. “The one you’re wearing right now. And then you try to play it off, but I know deep down you want to grab my arm and drag me to some back room. And well...look at us now.” 

“Y’know me so well, huh?” Billy rocks his hips forward, pushing his half-hard cock against your ass.

You grind back, smiling at the small huff he lets out. “Mm-hm. It’s why we work so well together.” 

He’s quiet for a moment, and you know the thoughts he’s cycling through. The drunken one night stand your junior year of college that turned into a series of late night trysts by second semester. What started as stress relief evolved into a routine of sorts. Have a bad day. Text Billy. Fuck Billy. Feel better. Rinse and repeat. And vice versa. It was hard not to get addicted to the familiarity of it. 

Billy shakes it off after a second, that easygoing mask he wears so well slipping right back into place. He pushes his jeans and boxers down to his ankles. “And what am I thinking now?” He spits into his palm and slowly strokes his cock. 

“You want to fuck me.” You grin.

He shakes his head. “Too easy.” He pulls your underwear to the side, and runs two fingers through the slick gathered on your cunt.

“Yeah, but you were thinking it.”  

Billy pulls your hips back to meet his. “You got me there,” he mumbles. “Can’t really blame me when you look like this.” He slowly thrusts into you. 

Your fingers twist into the material of his green and grey comforter, a low, drawn out, moan sliding out into the room. His cock feels amazing, filling you with a warmth that makes your toes curl. You bite your bottom lip, letting the little ripples of pleasure roll over you as Billy stretches you open.

“Fu-uck, you feel good,” he huffs in your ear. Billy curls himself over your body, trailing light kisses up and down your neck as he fills you with deep thrusts. “Love this fucking pussy.” 

You whine his name quietly. 

 “All that hard work you put into getting here, and now you’re quiet.” He bites your shoulder. “Don’t get all shy on me now, baby. You did it. You got my attention, now what?” 

“Fuck me,” you mumble. 

Billy raises an eyebrow. “What was that? Can’t hear you, sweetheart,” he teases.  

“Want you to fuck me.” You say clearer. 

“Me?” Billy asks, pulling all the way out just to thrust back into you sharply. “You sure, baby? Sure you don’t want Jason or some other guy out there to fuck you instead?” 

You shake your head. 

He clicks his tongue. “Use your words.”

“No. I don’t.” 

“Who do you want, honey? Who makes you feel good, always leave you wanting more?” His fingers find your clit again. 

“You.” 

The bed frame shakes and squeals as Billy fucks into you harder. “Say it louder.” 

You hesitate and look up, eyes fixed on the very unlocked door across the room, and the drunk co-eds that linger beyond it.  

Billy tugs your head back gently, lips ghosting over your jaw. “I don’t fucking care who's out there. I wanna hear you say it.” He rubs your clit harder. “You want me or one of those assholes?”

“You,” you cry, squeezing your eyes shut. “I want you.”

You’d be mortally embarrassed of the volume of the sounds you're making if you could think of anything other than the way Billy’s cock rubs against that heavenly spot inside of you. He always knows how to work your body, doing exactly what it took to turn you on, while other guys you’d been with fumbled around ineptly until you faked an orgasm just to get it over with.  

 But not with Billy. Billy never left you anything but satisfied. 

“Why me? Why not Jason?” He asks, as if reading your mind. 

“Because you fuck me s’good. S’fucking good.” you babble, your voice rising. 

Billy groans loudly. “Yeah I do.” He bites your shoulder. “It’s my cock you love, right? Feels good, don’t it?”

“Yes. Oh fuck. I love it when you fuck me, Billy.”

“That’s it, baby. Say my fucking name.” Billy groans. “Sounds so pretty when you say it like that. All fucked out and shit.” He buries his face into your neck. “Goddammit. You’re gonna make me come.” 

Your cunt clenches at Billy’s words and he snaps his hips forward with a groan. 

“Christ. You want my come, sweetheart? “ He groans low and gravelly in your ears, the rhythm of his thrusts growing more erratic.

“Please,” you nod, your own pleasure growing more intense. Bright and bubbling up inside of you, starting low in your stomach and spreading out to the tip of your fingers. Right there, just waiting for you to reach out and take it.  

And just when you’re about to surrender to it, Billy pulls out.

“Shit,” he moans, wrapping a fist around his cock and stroking himself. 

You whine at the sudden loss of contact, and fit a hand between your thighs. 

Billy’s hand comes down on your butt with a crack! “Don’t,” he snaps. “Don’t you dare touch yourself.”

“What the fuck, Billy? I was so close.”

“I know.” His raspy chuckle is cut off by another groan. “I told you your mouth was going to get you in trouble. You think you can tease me all night and get away with it? Oh, honey.” He shakes his head. “You hurt my feelings, and you didn’t even say sorry. Can’t have that.” 

“I’m sor–” 

“Too late for that, baby.” His squeezes his eyes shut as he tumbles over the edge. “You gambled and lost. Shoulda–fuck–shoulda just asked me to dance.” 

He comes with a deep rumble, spilling all over his hand and over your ass. Billy slumps against the bed beside you, a devilish grin on his face. He takes his hat off and brushes the strands of hair from his face. 

You frown at him, still partly in shock from your ruined orgasm. Anger replaces surprise as your heartbeat settles down in your chest. Your wide eyes turned to slits.

Billy brushes his thumb over your pouting bottom lip. “Aw, honey. Don’t be mad at me. Had to teach you a lesson.”

“You're a dick.” You fix your underwear and dress. “And just so you know, I’m just gonna go home and get off anyways.” 

"Gonna use that vibrator I got you?" Billy asks.

"None of your fucking business," You scoff.

“Yeah? Who are you gonna think about?” He crosses his arms over his chest.

“Definitely not you,” You snap, even though it was complete bullshit. 

Billy smirks, catching you in the lie. “It won’t feel as good as me.” He tucks himself back into his jeans and buttons them up. 

He’s right.

“I hate you,” you say, but there’s no real malice. Only mild annoyance. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Maybe even earlier.” He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you close. Billy slots his lips against yours, his tongue darting out to tease yours. He pulls away slowly, tugging your bottom lip between his teeth. 

“Text me if you need me,” he whispers. 

Then he’s walking out the door, leaving you frustrated as hell.

Asshole.

[alacetor-the-duckies-deer]

A very Angel Dust song for you all