#thank god for the mesh feature

[funky-dealer]

lil something for ampharos day today. love this beast to bits bless they hearts. bless ALL they hearts

[chunksworld]

Swim

IZ*ONE Kim Minju x Male Reader | (Tags: Smut)

A/N: #BreedMinju. Thank you to Kaede for beta reading as always.

————————

You never imagined in your wet dreams, in all of the times you masturbated to her, or even that time you drunk texted her a picture of you shirtless after one too many drinks at the bar that the woman you met inside the elevator during your first day at the company some two odd years ago would be in your apartment watching some rom-com from the 90s that you are too inebriated to remember the title of. Your heart is pounding, partly because of the double serving of triple shot espresso you perhaps shouldn’t have drank this morning and partly because she looks devastatingly stunning in that white shirt that completely conceals whatever shorts she maybe wearing underneath which further accentuates those long legs of hers—

“I don’t remember the TV facing this direction, unless there’s something on my face?”

Shit.

Aside from her God-given physical features, it’s the way she can toy with your feelings and flirt with you so effortlessly that always leaves you wanting for more. Every single little interaction with her is an adventure on its own; the way she would wink at you every time you pass by her in the office, the way she would walk up to you to fix your tie while telling you how your perfume “smells like the oceanside on a summer day” —whatever the hell that means— or how she would always give you words of encouragement with that bright smile of hers during stressful days. 

It should mean something, has to mean something. Right? You can’t ask anyone for advice either, not when you’re the only two people born on this side of the century in your department. Your coworkers are either divorced or having a midlife crisis, and quite frankly, you might be having a quarter-life crisis if such a thing exists. You can’t stay professional any longer, and you are more than thankful that you’re not at the workplace right now because the thoughts swimming inside your head are absolutely not safe for work. And it’s all because of this fucking woman that’s laughing as if everything is sunshine and rainbows: Kim Minju. 

It doesn’t help that she’s the prettiest woman you know. even more so than the handful of girls you’ve hooked up with during college. Evidently, you are not the only one that shares that sentiment because you don’t miss the old way some of your older male coworkers would give her a certain, disgusting look that you wish to erase from your memories and you know she deserves better than them. She deserves someone like you, but you don’t exactly know if that feeling is reciprocated. But as to how far you can push your luck, you haven’t found out the answer to that yet—perhaps tonight is the night. 

“Are you still with me? Or did my goddess face lure you in too deep?” 

That now makes the two of you not paying attention to the movie—granted you’ve already seen it at least a dozen times during college when you were a hopeless romantic but who are you to turn down Minju when she specifically requested it? Plus, that’s not your concern at this very moment when she scoots ever so closely to you and the heat her skin radiates is enough to burn you. “Honestly, I don’t blame you if you have a crush on me. I sort of have that effect on guys.” There’s that fucking wink again, and the way she pouts her lips as if she is posing for a selfie. “I admire your resilience though, most guys would have me moaning their names on their bed already by this point.”

“Not funny, Minju.” It really isn’t, not when she’s mere inches away from you and if you were just a bit more drunk now those irresistible lips of hers would be meshed with yours now. You try to look away but you can’t, they captivate you to no end and you don’t even want to look away now—the sheen on those cherry red lips, the way they stand out against her milky white skin, the way she then bites her lower lips as to tempt you even further, the way sweat slowly drips down the side of her face and to her neck and you think they’d look good with your bite marks all over them.

Even if you look down, her succulent thighs and legs are all that will pervade your senses and you won’t be able to stop thinking about how you just want to rip whatever garments she’s wearing underneath and have her spread her legs while you eat her out like she’s your last meal on Earth. “You can’t just keep doing this for years and not expect me to make a move eventually.”

“Then what’s stopping you, hmm?” 

Minju somehow shifts even closer to you, her lips practically brushing against yours, her eyes staring deep into your soul, her hands resting on your thighs. She probes into you even deeper, much deeper than any other time and emergency sirens are popping up in your head. There have been many close encounters like this, way too many for your liking. 

The way she would wear pencil skirts on certain days and make it her mission to bend over in front of you as much as possible to show the unreal curvature of her ass—then proceeding to smirk as if she doesn’t know how much your cock wants to burst through your pants. The way she would purposely bump into you and pretend to fall so you can pull her into an inadvertent hug. 

Or when she would wear those dresses that hug her curves tightly during galas and she would give you a courtesy hug for a second longer than corporate policies would allow. Or when she kissed you during Christmas party last year and claimed that she had to do it because you two were “underneath a mistletoe.” 

It all has to end tonight, because God forbid you have to spend another night alone on your bed making a mess while you shoot ropes after ropes all over yourself thinking about her. It’s exhausting having to play these games with her when you’re 99% sure she is into you and you have to take action now before someone else does.

“Minju, I don’t think you’re ready for what I’m packing down there.” You test the waters even further, carefully studying her facial expressions while trying not to get lost in her eyes. It’s quite a difficult task when the alcohol is hitting you harder by the minute but when a sly grin appears across her face as if to challenge that statement, you know you have her right where you want her.

“Oh trust me, I know what you’re packing down there.” Minju glances downwards at your erection and your sweatpants are doing a poor job with how it’s about to poke through your pants. “If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be spending my Friday night here when I could be hanging out with Chaewon and Yujin.” It’s getting dangerous now, her hands traveling down your body and cupping your length through two layers of clothing.

And honestly you might as well be naked now with the way your cock reacts to her touch —your tip is leaking heavily and your breath starts to shorten. “So what’s it gonna be? You can’t tell me you have a different plan for how this night is going to end.” You can’t push back any further, you won’t push back. You take the first dip, lips pressed hungrily onto hers and she takes this opportunity to swing her legs over and straddle you on your couch—the movie in the background is long forgotten and all you care about right now is her.

You straighten yourself up and wrap your arms around her waist possessively; two years of pent up sexual frustration finally coming to an end and you make the most of it. Her lips are everything you’ve dreamed of; soft and sweet and succulent and you can’t help but think about how they slot in with yours perfectly as if you were meant to kiss her all this time. Your hands travel to her face to cup her cheeks, pushing her head deeper into yours and you notice her hands encircling around your back. 

You take a break to catch your bearings, staring deep again at her now lust-filled eyes and you get a front row seat to the facial expression you’ve been dying to see for forever now.  She moans into your mouth when one of your hands slides underneath her dress shirt to feel her smooth skin and the ridges of her abs which itself isn’t a surprise—what is surprising is the lack of bra when you travel further upwards and you come into contact with tits that you are sure is perky and round. “What a fucking slut, Minju. No bra?”

Your suspicions are confirmed when you practically rip the buttons off her shirt and throw it somewhere in your living room and your mouth waters at the sight of her breasts, they are definitely not the biggest you’ve seen but the way they sit on her perfectly shaped body with all of her curves and intricacies is more than enough to make up for it. “What’s the use of wearing one when I knew we were gonna end up like this anyways?” But before you could dive down to taste them you find your shirt being removed as well and the hunger in your eyes is mirrored by the way she’s staring down at your own pack of abs. 

“I mean if I had it my way I would’ve told you to be shirtless already with only your boxers on before I came over but you can’t have everything in life right?” She is as handsy as you, those delicate fingers mapping your chest and your stomach with every little touch as if to decipher where her lips would go later. But you absolutely cannot wait any longer, grabbing her hand and placing it on her sides while you devour her nipples. Taking her left breasts between your lips while massaging the right one and the whimper of your name that escapes her lips is downright sinful while you alternate between the two. 

You lick, slurp, and at times even get your teeth involved—just anything that can get her squirming and writhing on your lap is enough to fuel you. Even more so when she pushes your head deeper into her chest and she’s moaning “more please, fuck” in between whimpers.

Minju is one needy girl and that’s one fact that you find out quickly when she starts to grind on your hips and you can feel just how warm and wet her shorts are. You inadvertently bite on her nipples and she screams your name at the sensation. You utter a “sorry” in response but it doesn’t really matter when she gets off of you and you think you’ve absolutely screwed up. Fucking great. She stands up and you are about to give a more sincere and heartfelt apology but those thoughts are quickly washed away when she removes her shorts and then her panties.

“I want to see that cock. Now.”

You don’t waste a single moment before you proceed to do the same thing to your undergarments and the sight of her fully naked in front of you causes you to leak even more precum with your cock freely exposed to the air. Minju looks hot—which in itself might be an understatement with the way she’s fucking you with those wide eyes of hers, the way her nipples are glimmering under the lights of your living room thanks to your saliva, the way her abs contract with every breath she takes, the way those stocky thighs are slick with her essence. Forget those wet dreams because none of them could match witnessing the actual Kim Minju naked in real life in your apartment.

Minju squeals when you drag her back down towards you to make her straddle your lap again. No more games, no more foreplay, you slowly sink her down your cock and drink in her moans when she buries her face in your shoulder. She is suffocatingly tight, extremely wet but tight and you almost spill mere seconds after finally inserting your entire length inside her. You wince slightly as her manicured nails press into your shoulders and eventually your back. “Fucking—shit—If I only knew—” 

Your pace is slow and methodical, even though you want to just pound her into oblivion and have her screaming to the point your neighbors will complain the morning after. She is Minju after all and she deserves that respect, but as to how long you can control yourself you don’t know. For now, you are content to just have her in your arms and revel in this moment that you’d never thought would ever come. Just feeling how your cock molds perfectly inside her and how her small bunny hops gradually increase over time and her face becomes lost in pleasure is more than enough.

Especially when you feel every inch of her goddess-like body pressed against yours when she arches up to you; her thighs bouncing against yours, her abs grinding against yours, and those breasts pressed against your chest. “—so deep, fuck—harder!” It’s about time you take control and you do just that, you plant your feet to the ground and you grab handfuls of her asscheeks with each hand before thrusting up in time with her thrust and Minju’s gone completely delirious now. 

Gone are the coherent sentences as they are now replaced by expletive-filled chants of pleasure. She’s damn near crying on your cock, tears welling up in her eyes due to pleasure and so you pull her face away to get a glimpse of her sweat-misted face and how her eyes are unfocused. You don’t know what came over you but you feel your heart skip a beat seeing such surreal beauty up close and personal so you pull her in for another makeout session, continuing your long and hard thrusts while your tongue ravages her mouth much like your cock does with her pussy.

“Fucking hell, we should’ve done this sooner.” Another kiss on her lips, then another lick of her nipples—make that two licks, no in fact, you devour them once more. It’s becoming clearer that they’re starting to become your favorite part of her body and it’s completely justified. “ I can’t believe I had to jack off to your pictures when you were just one call away.” The woman in question doesn’t respond but she blushes, the raw honesty of your words is enough to reveal that shy and demure side of her again despite the situation you two are currently in. 

Minju just brushes her hair aside in response while looking away, taking the initiative to bounce on your cock and you let her take over once again. “W-Well I’m here now—“ A particularly hard thrust deep into a certain spot inside her has her clenching around your cock much tighter than usual, you take mental note of this “—I hope I’m as good as advertised.” Of course she is and even better than whatever scenario you were cooking up inside your head, but instead of showing it through words you just smile at her and hope that it’s enough to show your admiration and you let your body do the talking.

You’re noticing how tired she’s becoming being on top so you don’t waste any more time and pick up the pace while still letting her guide the way. It’s silence between the two of you aside from the sounds of passionate lovemaking and that is just enough to push you two closer to the edge. You feel her clench tighter around you again and likewise you can feel your balls throbbing in anticipation too. It’s been a stressful week at work and there’s no better place to unload than inside her welcoming pussy. You’re just as close to her as reaching your orgasm and it’s becoming extremely difficult not to do anything but to burst inside hers. 

Forget the lovemaking, you lift her up by her asscheeks and stand up from the couch and you immediately feel her limbs coil around your body as she gasps at the sensation of being fully seated by your cock. You start to thrust up again, this time more relentlessly without the restrictions of the couch and she’s leaking even more now and you can actually feel her juices stream down your cock and you know she’s extremely close. “D-Don’t stop, please. Don’t you ever fucking stop!” She’s bouncing much higher than before, almost completely unsheathing your length before she crashes back down on it again and now she’s actually crying in pleasure. 

“Hnnghhh! Fuck! I can’t, I can’t—” There was certainly no way she was going to last any longer. “—G-Gonna cum on your cock!” And a few more of those wild thrusts is all it takes to set her off, going limp and forcing you to grab hold of her even tighter so she doesn’t slip off—a task given difficult given how much sweat is emanating both of your bodies but you don’t care especially when all of those juices causes you to slip out of her for a minute and you don’t care about the mess you two are making on the floor at this very moment when you’re about to follow her with your own orgasm. 

“Such a fucking good girl for me, Minju.” You slide back inside her, this time it’s easier thanks to the lubrication she provided and you can’t help but grit your teeth and close your eyes. It’s too much, all of this. What transpired tonight and what it means for your future. It’s all too much to handle and you can’t hold it any longer. You’re about to give her the biggest load you’ve ever given anyone.  “You deserve all of this, I’ve wanted you so fucking bad.“ All she can do is nod as she is still sensitive from her own orgasm but with the way she’s wrapping her arms around you tighter she wants it as badly as you do. “Gonna fucking cum inside.”

“Please! I want your hot—hnggh—I want your cum. Please. When a beautiful woman like her gives you such a permission you don’t waste it, you hold her tight as you begin to pump ropes after ropes of cum in her pussy with every deep thrust. You don’t want to stop cumming, can’t stop cumming—your legs going weak and forcing you to sit down on the couch while you continue to unload deep inside Minju. It feels fucking euphoric, feeling your load drip back down to your cock and balls as that seemed to drain the soul out of you. 

You’ve been holding back from the moment you first saw her all those years ago and there’s no better feeling than this, not even a promotion could rival how addicting having sex with her feels and you want more. You want to continue diving into the ocean that is Kim Minju even if it means drowning, nothing else matters but her.

As if to try to coax more cum out of you, Minju continues to grind her hips while kissing you. This time it’s much more slow and gentle while you lay her on the couch and hover on top of her. It’s beautiful how her hair, though disheveled, cascades down her shoulders and fans out on the cushion below. 

Her limbs are still wrapped tight around you, your softening cock starting to harden while you begin to fuck her once more—you’re making a mess of the couch with how you’re fucking your cam back into her but it doesn’t matter when she’s going to be filled again. “You still have enough cum for me? I’m surprised.” 

You place kisses on her neck this time, making sure to leave marks dark enough that no amount of foundation can conceal it once Monday comes around. Surprisingly she doesn’t protest, perhaps she does want everyone to find out about you two. “Guess I didn’t do a good job of draining you, huh?” You respond by fucking her harder into the couch, feeling the furniture creak and move with every thrust and you render her speechless once again. 

Lean down to capture those bouncing tits in your mouth and continue to work her to another orgasm which wasn’t difficult to accomplish considering how sensitive she still is. It didn’t take long to set you off either and you unload whatever remaining load you have, which is still plenty considering you almost passed out with how much you left inside her just ten minutes ago.

She urges you to sit up on the couch again and she gets off of it to kneel down in front of you before then taking your flaccid cock in her mouth to clean you off. The sight is pornographic, the way she shows off your combined juices on her tongue before making a show of swallowing it all. “Hmm, we taste good together. I don’t mind having some more of that.”

Minju gets off her knees to sit down right beside you and the way her naked body glistens under the natural light outside your apartment is an unparalleled sight that has your heart swooning and doing backflips. “Well, I’m free this entire weekend.” And perhaps shooting your shot when all of this has already happened is quite a ridiculous predicament to be in but you don’t want to be selfish after all. Surely a girl like her has plenty of suitors you’re not aware of and you don’t want to tie her down especially when nothing is official yet.

“I guess I could be convinced.”

Those ten seconds of silence felt like an eternity. But it was all worth it the moment she gives you that smile that makes your heart race even faster. And despite kissing her for what seems like a million times already, this one has special weight. As if to tell the world that the most beautiful woman you have ever known and perhaps will ever know is now yours and there’s nothing that could change that. Screw all of those disgusting old men with their mid-life crisis because your quarter-life crisis just ended in the most satisfying way possible.

You’re embarrassed by the way you whine the moment you don’t feel her lips on yours anymore but you are quickly consoled the moment she stands up and turns around to flaunt that perfectly shaped ass of hers. Suddenly, blood rushes to your cock again as if you didn’t cum twice already. 

“Come on, take me to your bedroom.” Minju eyes you like a piece of meat once again when she pulls you up to your feet. 

“There’s one more hole you forgot to fill.”

[mustainegf]

𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐁𝐎𝐘 ¹⁹⁹²

We dropped the kids off with their my mom this morning, so that Dave and I could spend the day together, special for his borthday. He was 31 today. As we close the front door behind us, my attention is immediately on my husband, looking handsome as always.

"Happy birthday, baby," I smile, leaping forward towards him. Dave instantly pulls himself into me and we hug tightly, feeling each other's body heat.

"Thank you, hun.. I'm looking forward to spending it with just you." he gives a sly smile, slender fingers clutching my waist.

"Mmm.. speaking of which, give me a few minutes, come in when I call you," I purr, hands lingering on his chest before bounding off to our bedroom.

My heart leaps with excitement as I slip off my clothes, there is something irresistible about the thought of a whole day of alone time with Dave, especially on his birthday.

I rifle through my drawer to find the dark red lingerie set I had bought special for today. The delicate lingerie set featured a sheer mesh fabric, so you could see underneath, adorned with small embroidered roses. The deep burgundy straps framed the body. The triangle bralette offered a peek of skin beneath the translucent material, while the matching thong has slim double straps that traced along the hips. I knew he would be drooling.

I slipped the lacy undergarments onto my curves, pausing to admire them in the mirror.

I snicker and lie back on the bed, making sure my position was promiscuous. With careful precision, I move my fingertips to the area between my thighs, teasing myself as I waited. "Dave?"

I called out after what felt like forever. "Yes, darling?" Dave replied through the door, unable to contain his excitement. He could not believe that tonight was finally here.

"You can come in now." There's a lightness to my voice, a playfulness, but there's no denying the list.

I ran my fingers across my wet lips, slowly circling them once. I watched his expression change as he stepped into the room. His eyes flicked down at the sight of my lingerie, sucking sharply in his breath.

I smirked internally, taking note of how aroused he already looked. I lazily tugged on one of my nipples through the lace, giving him a mischievous grin.

"Happy birthday, handsome."

My hand drew the strap of my g-string aside, revealing my pink clit to him. I bit my lip, waiting for him to react... "Fuck." Dave said, staring down in a trance-like state at my pussy.

"I'm all yours today, whatever you want me to do," I whisper to him.

"That's a dangerous game, sweet thing..." Dave snickered, stealing a peck from my lips.

He backed up slightly, revealing his cock as I examined its shape and size. His hardening erection pulsated heavily against his black boxers.

"Is that for me?"

I asked him seductively, tracing the tip with my fingertip. "Of course..." Dave answered with a growl. I grin at that, trancing my hands up his hard shoulders, as if coaxing him to decide what he wanted to do first.

He seems too pent up to make a decision. "Lay down... let me give you your present.."

I tell him softly. He obediently lays on the bed beside me, head propped upon his pillow. My panties were being moved to the side, once again making way for his mouth.

His tongue gently tapped the petals, coating them with saliva until they were shimmering in the evening light.

At once my abdomen clenched, leaking more liquid onto his face and wetting his jawline with it.

Now he started going even further, his tongue teasing entrance before sucking onto my clit.

"Oh God!" I exhaled, watching him massage his hot tongue against my swollen flesh. "Aww... naughty boy," I whispered. In that moment, I reached over to grasp his throbbing erection.

I ran the slit of the head with my thumb several times, spreading the pre-cum all around. Soon I started working both his shaft and balls.

"Ah..." He sighed, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply. His brain wasn't thinking anymore. All he could feel was me caressing his manhood like silk.

I kept going, all while rutting my hips down onto his face. By the sounds he was making, he was thoroughly enjoying himself.

His thrusts became more powerful and urgent, teeth grazing the folds of my labia as he tried to get deeper inside me. And then suddenly he stopped.

A little disappointed at first, I leaned down onto my elbows. But my mood quickly changed when I found out why he'd stopped.

Dave had moved upwards, resting atop me. We kissed lovingly, sharing our mutual lustful desires.

My legs were opened wide to welcome his cock inside me. He placed the head of his dick at the opening of my vagina.

Then he pushed in slowly, leaving my inner walls tingling from excitement. "I've been dreaming of these walls since last night, sweetheart," Dave moaned, pushing inward.

This made me tremble. Dave pulled himself out completely and repeated the same motion. Every inch of me burned with desire, feeling electrically charged. My eyes widened in amazement at his sudden aggression.

"Oooh!" I gasped, surprised by his force. He kept ramming in and out fast and furious.

Harder and harder, deeper and deeper. I couldn't hold myself still anymore, squirming wildly beneath him. "H-happy bi-irthd-dayy." I whined passionately, letting go of all restraint.

The repetitive slapping noises coming from our bodies made me hear my name being yelled from somewhere far away.

Screaming profanities, the sound echoed throughout the room. Slowly, the pace of his thrusts increased yet again.

"D-Dave it's too much.." I whine, genuinely unsure if I can take it this hard for much longer.

Save nods and slows a small bit. My pussy quivered and soaked itself with pleasure juices at every rapid penetration. "Doin' so good... so so good... such a good birthday present, yeah? You like being my toy?"

Dave tugged at my lingerie top, tossing it across the room and greedily groping my breasts. "Yes, Dave! Y-yes..."

Before long, I began to lift my hips up to meet his cock every time he plunged in, knowing exactly where to touch him to turn him on even more.

Dave pulled away, cock slipping from my grip which made me pout and moan. "Such a needy thing? Just wanna please me on my birthday..." he snickers, slapping his cock onto my soaking, fluttering clit.

My whole body convulsed from the sensation, crying out in delight as a flood of juices flowed out of me. I cried out, hands fisting sheets.

"Shit, hun... cumming that quick?" He grinned wickedly, still rubbing his length on me as the juices soaked into the mattress.

"Just remindin' ya who's birthday it is, sweetheart. Can't have y'all lovin' anyone else besides me, can we?" And with that, he plunged into me again.

Juices leaked and trickled from my cunt, splattering all over my thighs, his thighs, the sheets, anything. The overstimulation was far to much and I could only make dumb little noises as my breasts bounced up with every sharp force of his hips.

"Come on, just a bit longer.. you want the birthday boy to cum, don't you, angel?"

he continued in-between kisses. I didn't know how many orgasms Dave had given me. All I knew was there was no end to the fireworks. Nor did there seem to be any end to him fucking me.

"I'm so close, baby... so close.." Dave heaved, thrusting like he was in heat.

"Good girl." Dave grunted proudly. His voice was getting raspy; he clearly needed some relief. With one final push, he buried himself deep within me until our pelvises met.

Reaching underneath him, Ilocked my ankles together around his back, ensuring that he would not pull out until he was done with me.

Dave froze and stilled himself as deep as he could, warm spurts shooting into me, and soaking into my aching hole.

He remained motionless for some seconds afterward, releasing one final shudder. Then at last he collapsed next to me, breathing heavily.

I didn't budge either, still half-asleep and trying to regain consciousness. I looked up to see tears streaming down Dave's cheeks. Concerned, I reached out and touched his arm. "Dave honey? What is it?"

"I love you..." he admits, teary eyed and smiling.

"And I love you too..." I kiss him deeply on the forehead, bringing him into my arms.

𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐕𝐄 !!

[hannahssimblr]

“Jude! God, c’mere.” Michelle thrusts me into the centre of the group, where someone has propped a card against a vase on the counter. I ensure to arrange my features carefully into some sort of surprised expression. 

“Oh, what? This for me?”

“Yes,” they cry. It’s a handmade card that says ‘you’re dead to us’ on the front. “Aw, Jesus, thanks!” I say, and they laugh and watch me while I open it and start reading some messages scrawled on the inside. There are so many of them, many even squeezed into the tiniest corners, or sideways along the edge.

‘Good luck on your big adventure!’ some say. Others share a memory, wish me luck, express jealousy at my escape. I close it. 

“I’ll read this late when you’re not all gawking at me,” I tell them, which gets a good laugh despite the lack of comedy, and as I look around at their faces, their sad, sentimental smiles and I wish the night was over already, and I was already gone. I feel exposed, like a man under a spotlight without something to say. Would they like me to entertain them? To read their messages and get emotional in the middle of my kitchen?

I catch Jen’s eye. She’s behind the others, by the patio door, dressed in a very funereal black, and an expression to match. While chatter resumes around me, I jerk my head towards the garden, and without words, she understands. She slips through the door and out into the night. 

Jen and I wordlessly follow the path that winds down from the house to the pergola at the back of the garden. We sit on a bamboo settee shielded by trees from the road, where the occasional car passes. The breeze lifts pieces of her hair that frame her face. 

She is staring towards the kitchen, its yellow light pouring out into the garden when she breaks the silence. 

“What a weird party.” 

I exhale a laugh through my nose. “Honestly, I didn’t know if you’d even come.”

She purses her lips. “I’m not totally sure why I did.”

“Maybe you had something you wanted to say.”

“Maybe. Though I wasn’t sure you’d want to hear it.” She looks at me then, her brown eyes dark in the failing light as they study mine. “It surprised me to see Evie here.”

“Me too. I didn’t think she’d come.”

“On her own, too.”

I shrug. “Shane and Claire were busy. They were going to their debs.”

“Ah, the debs.” She picks lint from her black mesh top and laughs humourlessly. “Bet you’re sorry you’ll miss ours. I know how excited you were to suit up for it.”

Even the concept of wearing a suit makes me uncomfortable, as though an invisible tie is pulled too tightly at my throat. “You’re going, I presume.”

“Yeah, with Michelle. The two of us are kind of like the dateless losers in the year. Feels about right to end it all this way.”

“I didn’t think Michelle would be interested in all that stupid stuff, if I’m honest.”

“I think that’s what you assumed. If you’d asked her, she might have told you something different.”

“Hm,” I say. “More evidence of being a kind of shit boyfriend, isn’t it?”

An infinitesimal smile nudges at her lips. “I always said you were better apart. She really brought out the worst in you.”

“It felt that way, to be honest. When I was with her, I really didn’t like myself, or I wasn’t completely myself around her.”

“Well, then. Hopefully, one day you’ll find someone who lets you be yourself. It’s what everyone wants for themselves.”

I nod. “Yeah, that’s true.”

“I kind of thought you’d found that with Evie.”

I sigh, suddenly irritated, while she draws into herself, hands tucked under her arms. “Sorry,” she says. “I don’t know the right thing to say about her.”

“I kind of wish you wouldn’t say anything to me about her, because, like…”

“It isn’t my business, and all that,” she finishes, and with a nod, she turns her face toward the bushes flanking the garden with their spiky black leaves silhouetted against the deep blue sky.

My voice trembles. “Jen, I don’t want to be angry with you right now, like, I don’t want to go off and start this new part of my life when I feel this way, but the things you said to Evie at the festival, I just… It’s like, no matter how much I think it over, I can’t come up with a reason you would say those things to her.”

She tugs the sleeve of her top between her teeth, just shaking her head. I lift my hands from my lap to look at them. They are quivering, so I clench them into fists as I continue.

“You should have been there on that second night, Jen, and seen the way she was crying. The things you said got into her head, you know what I mean? You can’t just make shit up and tell it to someone like it’s a fact. I know you love to gossip and tell stories, but this is what happens when you go too far. It has real consequences. Like, a real impact on people.”

“Yeah.”

“You told her I was staying.”

Again, she agrees, eyes still fixed on the garden. 

“Jen.”

She swallows, hard. 

“How come you said that? It’s not like I ever told you I was going to do that, is it?”

She mumbles something incoherent. 

“What? Come on, just talk to me.”

“I assumed you would.”

“You assumed? Why would you assume?”

I realise that speaking is difficult for her, as she is holding back her tears. I should feel more sympathetic towards her, but I’m righteous. With a steadiness I know is shrinking her, I stare into her face.

“Maybe it was both that I assumed and I hoped. Like, a mixture of the two.”

“Go on.”

“You seemed happy this summer, at certain moments. It was just… like,” a laboured swallow, “you’d come home late after being with her, and you were just… Happy, and talking all about her and going on and on about the funny things she said to you.”

“So?”

“So, like, I thought you’d end up going out with her in the end, and that you felt so strongly about her that you’d stay in Dublin to be with her. I don’t know, it didn’t seem that crazy an idea. You were acting like you were in love or something.” Now, she looks at me, her eyes hurt, but still searching for confirmation. Perhaps, if she were especially astute, she might have seen somewhere on my face the flash of emotion that jolted through me. I convince myself she hasn’t seen a thing and clench my jaw. 

“I think that was a fairly stupid assumption to make.”

“I don’t. You’ve always done things because pretty girls wanted you to. It’s like your life is based around chasing whatever feeling it is that you get when one of them likes you.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is.”

“It’s not,” I insist. “Look at me now, huh? I’m leaving her for Germany.”

“Fine,” she whispers. “I just thought you’d stay. That’s all.”

“I won’t.”

“I know that.”

“I’m leaving.”

“Yeah, I get it.”

“Do you?”

She exhales, frustrated, and throws her hands upon her lap. “Yes, I know it. Look at me, here, at your going away party. It’d be pretty fucking mental if I didn’t know it, wouldn’t I?”

“Yeah, but it’s not like you’ve acknowledged it.”

“You haven’t talked to me in two weeks.”

“Before that, Jen.”

She fixes the full, passionate force of her stare at me as tears fill her eyes. “Because I don’t want you to go, do I? Because I thought if I didn’t look at it, then it’d all just go away.”

I feel a surge of emotion. My throat tightens as though clenched by a fist. “Well… It doesn’t.”

“Yeah,” as the first tears spill onto her cheeks, she wipes them away with the heel of her hand. “I just didn’t want things to end. I thought if you stayed for her, then I wouldn’t have to lose you, and nothing would change.”

“They have to, though. That’s how life goes. Everything changes and everything ends, and we all just get older and things move on.”

She whimpers. “But you’re moving on without me.”

I reach out and stroke her knee with my thumb over the loose threads of the hole in her jeans. “Yeah, I suppose I am.”

“I just don’t know what I’ll do.”

“You’ll just live your life, and I’ll live mine, and-”

“We’ll be apart. How can I go without seeing you all the time? You’ve always just been there, and now I’ll have to get used to you being so far away, and never seeing you, and you’re, like, one of the few friends I even have, and you-”

“No, come on. You’ll make new friends in college.”

“I don’t want new friends. I don’t want to meet new people and have to explain these little things about me, and my backstory and what I like to watch on TV and order at the takeaway, and what sorts of jokes make me laugh. You already know it all, and you’ll know them better than anyone else ever will, because you were there when I decided I liked them.”

“Jenny, we’ll still talk, and we’ll visit each other-”

“There’s no point pretending it’ll be the same, because it won’t. You’re going to say you’ll stay in touch with me and we’ll be best friends forever, but that won’t happen. You’ll find people who are better, and just forget.”

“Never.”

Beginning // Prev // Next

[justblades]

HELLOO I recently found your account a few days ago and I binge read all of your works. Your writing is spectacular. I had a thought, maybe you'd be interested in writing something related to aphrodisiacs? It's up to you who you'd like to write it for. I would be very interested to see how you portray it. (But if you insist on a character, Luocha...hmshdndms. I know you just wrote him, but I'm starving.)

⌕ MORE AND MORE, 18+

⟢ CHARACTER : sub! luocha x gender neutral! reader WC : 1.1k

⟢ WARNINGS : EXPLICIT, MDNI. dubcon, aphrodisiacs, edging, overstimulation, manipulation, foot job, not proofread.

⟢ A/N : thank you so much nonnie! since i received a luocha ask as well, i decided to mesh both reqs into one <3 i wrote this in one sitting as if all the horny inside me took part in this oneshot 😭

"come on, luocha. show me your perverted side." you whisper to your partner, your sultry breath drawing shivers on the shell of his ear. your hands glide from his neat, lush blond strands all the way to the thighs— fingers slowly pressing on the plush the nearer you got to his erect bulge.

he doesn't say anything, just a mere 'averting his gaze' is all that you received in exchange. "i hate seeing you like this because i love you." you close in the remaining spaces away from your lust brewed bodies, "that's why i had this here." as soon as you level your face with his, you immediately crash your lips, barging with an abrupt tangling of your tongue along with luocha's, not in sync. you were rougher, faster, and louder.

you're reaching your limits after all. you could no longer bear beating around the bush just to get into your boyfriend's pants. he loves you and you do too - what's wrong with a little pushing? with one swift thrust of your tongue, you successfully make him ingest the drug coated with your sticky liquids that made the process easier. being patient is not your forte: hence why you chose the strongest, fastest-acting variant and a couple packs of it as well.

luocha's stature suddenly becomes unstable, powerless at keeping himself still that eventually lead to him falling on the farthest edge of the bed, the cushions sinking from his now twice more hefty body, given that the drug circulates in his system at present. you slowly take steps towards your lover's vulnerable state, basking in pleasure pondering about the things you'll do to him.

everytime you're with him, a single moment of not having lewd thoughts about him never once happened. you're just having the delight of human pleasures god gave us, are you not? so there's nothing wrong with this . . . is what became your life motto. luocha's body is now across from you, he's heaving deep breaths every now and then. he throws a hand on his face, heavy pink shades taints his dewy cheeks. you could tell he's growing shameful and overly conscious, asking himself why he feels funny.

"what. . . is this?" how cute. he even struggles to speak coherently, you praise yourself for buying that type or else you won't be in such euphoria. "it's a gift from me, i love you after all." you answer and straddle his abdomen, your index and thumb now making leeway for his heating body for more breathing room. "h-how come . . you're not feeling— ah!"

much to his surprise, you're already sucking his cock, giving it little licks at the top accompanied with saliva slicked hands pleasuring his ballsacks. even though you were dead set on stimulating the male, your eyes continue to brazenly linger on his pretty face: his fluttering eyelashes everytime he winces from your touches, and the way his lips quiver when you take it a step further. he looks perfect.

as you were already reveling in ecstasy getting to see luocha's flustered reactions, an idea crosses your mind. you happened to remember there's another feature of the aphrodisiac: it heightens the person's sensitivity by a dozen times. you quickly halt your actions and thought carefully about the next step.

that's right, it should be like this. getting on top of him once more, you fold your legs in a sitting position - his twitching dick nestled in between your feet. meanwhile your hands are tending to his soft nipples' needs and lastly, to top it all off, you plant stinging kisses along his neck, the type that would bruise his skin for days end. you couldn't restrain any longer and started your rhythm, opening your foot job in lento in contrast to your sloppy kisses.

gradually stroking the most prominent veins of his dick with your toes, you poke luocha's buds deep until they become fully erect and supple. luocha on the other hand, however, could not comprehend what's happening to him: uncertain if he should feel sheepish from having to let out ragged whimpers everytime his dick throbs from your movements or should he be in bliss for feeling these foreign things simultaneously.

you're able to tell whenever luocha's in deep thought from how often you spend time with him. at last, those instincts came in handy as you turn to take a brief look of his face, catching a glimpse of tears burning his viridescent eyes. 'he's so overwhelmed' you thought to yourself. "shh. don't think about anything else. think only of me . . think only of how i'm tending to your body." you momentarily stop suckling on his neck and press a gentle one on his lips, "you love me too . . don't you?"

he nods - basically a signal for you to continue and bring it to another level, this time, pleasuring his chest with skillful fingers and the pointy tip of your tongue flicking around his hardened buds. a deep yet breathy mewl follows suit from luocha's lips, he bucks his hips upwards as well to match your tempo - a sickening fast pace from the adrenaline rushing into your veins. "holy shit! this is amazing, show me more . . more!"

your eyes widen in excitement, noticing the littlest hints that luocha is enjoying the moment. as if your guts tell you the next step, you lean backwards and reach for luocha's hole, teasing his entrance slightly with your digits drenched with saliva and sweat. he rocks his hips in a different pace from previously, you turn to see beads of precum already stream out the little slit.

"today you'll also experience what it feels like to catch that feeling only to start at square one again." your worded it rather slyly and stop, earning a weak growl from luocha's mouth. looking back at luocha again, he looked . . helpless.

impotent sexual frustration washed over him, blinded by the lascivious thoughts flaring inside his mind. having a quick rest lets you admire the sight underneath you - luocha's flaxen hair is all disheveled and messy, his naked body is glazed of sweat mixed with your slick juices, and most of all, his eyes seem different. eyes are window to the soul, a lot of people say so. but now as they've turned into blank slates of green shades, the corners of your lips tug upwards.

he's definitely whipped of love and lust as you can tell there wasn't a single thought behind those eyes. "i'll train your body not to cum eagerly, okay?" you ask rhetorically although you weren't really expecting an answer. luocha couldn't form any rational thoughts the longer the session dragged on, making him nothing but a tool to quench your satisfaction.

my masterlist !

[partyanimal167]

Dance with Me- Miguel x F!Reader

This total blurb got thrown together because I saw this beautiful art by @satoshiiarts (girl the way you drew him. the way i'd fold) and I needed to write something to calm this cat down so~

CW: fem reader, implied slight age gap, author knows some Spanish, hot fluff, afro Caribbean reader in mind

(A/N: before y'all get on my throat, I know bachata isn't Mexican, but New York irl is diverse so just follow me here and see the vision)

You somehow let your friend convince you to go out even though you worked the dinner shift. She made a good point saying that by the time you'd be off and arrived the clubs would be at it's peak vibes. You really just wanted to lay down and have a drink, but it had been awhile and even though you weren't going to a fete it would still be nice to let loose.

So you threw on that outfit that had been sitting in the back of your closet, grabbed your black mesh boots, took a shot for courage, and headed out.

There was a reggaeton-dancehall mash up when you and your friends arrived, and it immediately helped you relax. Your group found a spot to peek around--trying to decide on getting a drink or jumping on the floor. Drinks won, and first round was on you. Thankfully, the bar wasn't super crowded (no college kids), so it wasn't hard to get there. You two-stepped your way through, but accidentally bumped into someone who was reaching for their Modelo.

You gasped and placed your hand on the person's arm. "I'm so sorry! You didn't spill your drink, did you?" You absolutely hated when that happened--drunk people that needed to go home, but you were just a little clumsy tonight.

"Oh no need to worry."

Holy fuck. Holy fuck! Your brain short-circuited. You had to take a moment to breath, and prayed to God your eyes weren't bulging out of your head. The man was taller than you and gave you a soft smile despite the hard features. His cheeks were sharp. His eyes burned red. The gold of his earrings and necklace beamed when the club lights caught on it. The few gray hairs made your brain flash to dangerous places. The black dress shirt was filled, and you were so tempted to just steal a glance at whatever piece of chest you could get.

Say something! You giggled stupidly as your face was warming up, and you quickly turned to the bar hoping to have not looked like an idiot.

You shouted your order over the music to the bartender before patting your pants for your card. An arm reached passed you and placed a bill on the counter. "Here you go," the bartender took the money and went working on the drinks.

You tensed for a moment before turning and looking up at the man. Now he was grinning. "Uh, thank you so much." you smiled.

The man shrugged. "Here's your change, Miguel."

"No lo necesito." the man replied. You weren't sure what to say so you gave him your name. "Miguel, nice to meet you. Hanging out with your friends?"

Drinks starting getting placed in front of you. You nodded as you glanced at your friends who seemed to start feeling the music. "Yeah it's girls night."

The man raised his beer and winked. "Well have fun tonight, then chiquita." and he walked away.

Why is he leaving! You squeaked internally before grabbing the drinks ready to point out the man to your friends and get the night going.

...

You were feeling loose and happy. The night had taken a turn and the bachata mixes were starting up. Your friends were quick to partner up and get to stepping and swaying. You all moved throughout the floor, twirling before finding yourselves with a new partner and rhythm. It had taken you awhile to get to the point where you'd be okay dancing in public, but it had been in your blood and soon you embraced it. Most people kept it fun and light-hearted which was always nice.

You had found yourself alone for a moment and just as you were about to dance your way back to your seat, you felt a confident pull of your hips which had you leaning against someone's chest and a hand holding yours. They took the lead easily, and you took in how smoothly they stepped before spinning you and pulling your in close.

It took everything in you not to fumble your steps, but maybe the man noticed your bit of surprise and chuckle. "Is it okay if we dance?"

"Yes," you squeaked out.

Miguel grinned as he continued to move you around the floor. "Sorry, if I came across too forward. You just looked so good dancing. I wanted a turn." God, this man needed to stop talking. You were going to freeze up any moment if he kept going on with that voice of his. "I hope I'm a good enough partner for you bebita."

You laughed nervously and shook your head. "Oh more than adequate. I'm sure everyone wishes to switch places with me."

"Hmm, maybe the other way around. We probably look good out here."

"You certainly do." you replied with out thinking. "Oh wait, I-,"

"You flatter me." was all he said though you could tell he didn't necessarily disagree.

Soon enough, you got over your bit of nerves and continued dancing with the man. Though you would normally only dance with someone for a song or two, it quickly became three or four with Miguel. He was probably dancing just as long as you, and you were starting to get a little winded though you wouldn't let him escape again.

"Ah me olvidé, it's girl's night. Let me get you back to your friends, hermosa." the man paused by the wall and let go of your hands.

Not yet! You waved your hands. "I'm sure they're fine...unless you have someone you need to get back to then no worries!" you tripped over your words.

Miguel huffed a laugh and scratched the back of his head. "Eh not really. I came with my brother, but who knows where he is?" you both turned hearing your name called, and you saw your friends waving and whistling you on. Your face flared up. I'm going to kill them! The man could probably tell what was going on and smiled. "Hehe, go have fun tonight bebita and get home safe." he handed you a card before bringing the back of your hand to his lips and placing a kiss. "We'll dance again some other time."

Watching him walk away was only a little painful considering the view, but you silently cheered before going back to your girls to gush over the last hour.

You guessed it did pay to leave the house every now and then.

I actually wanna go dancing now that's crazy! But there's no Miguel for me to run into 😭😭😭😭

Thanks for reading!

border by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

[stusbunker]

Spotless: Lilt

Chapter Eight

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela

Other characters: Ash, Sam/Madison, Pamela, Lee, Kevin, Bobby, Frank, Tiny, Annie, and Dawn the bartender (Adam, Ellen and John/Kate mentioned)

Word Count: 2116

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, mild drug use, minor jealous Dean, drinking, Dean gets a little existential and realizes he might have fucked up, unbeta'd

Series Masterlist

Divider courtesy of @cafekitsune

The haze of the control room wasn’t noticeable the longer they sat in the small room facing Pam, Lee and Sam getting down the new track Lee wrote through the glass. Dean bobbed his head, bong braced against his lap, as Ash hummed in appreciation, eyes closed and headphones on. Kevin had wandered off to a smaller studio to work out a solo they wanted to put into “Prophet and Loss”. After that and "Hand Me My Axe", which Lee was shredding on at the moment, they’d have a full thirteen for the album. They’d already recorded the bonus acoustic versions of “Brother’s Keeper” and “Baby” for the deluxe editions.

Thank fuck those were behind him, because Dean cried through both of those sessions and Sam would never let him live it down, despite the sasquatch also getting misty during his verses. The fact that Sam wrote his own part and Dean didn’t know what it was going to convey until they were in the box, well, that was just unfair. He blamed it on Sam’s singing, because dude was not a vocalist, but really it had been a lot to hear what Sam went through when Dean was busy self-destructing. 

Whatever, Dean was in touch with his emotions now, who cared?

The finish line on this album was rapidly approaching and Dean was more stoked than he thought he’d be at doing something completely without Cas’ influence. Though he still heard Cas’ voice admonishing him sometimes, it had taken on a nostalgic tone the last couple of days. The music wasn’t the same without Cas, but it didn’t make it worse. 

God, did he miss him though.

Dean cleared his throat and took a hit, letting the mixed emotions have their moment until he carefully blew them all away. Lee was on fire and it was such a mesmerizing thing to watch him play as an audience member and not a collaborator. Sometimes he forgot how good his band was objectively speaking. The music and the energy of performing took over and they meshed making something magical, but beyond that Lee was a fucking genius on six-to-twelve strings.

They spent another twenty minutes laying it down and then broke for lunch. Dean checked his phone as Kevin and Ash hauled in the bags of take out that had been delivered to the front desk. Frank only let the local Chinese place deliver directly to the building, so it had become a weekly ritual instead of them constantly having to go out and find themselves sustenance in the middle of recording. Though Dean was slowly getting sick of it.

He had a couple of messages in their brother group chat from Adam about Christmas. The poor kid was stuck playing the messenger because Kate couldn’t bother to call him or Sam herself. There was a meme from Bela, of all things, and a check in from Ellen. Nothing from you. He thumbed down to the band business chat to see if you had at least been active there, but there was nothing since the shot of Crowley’s flowers.

At first they had thrown Dean for a loop, or a mild case of envy. Because he thought they were from that stupid gym rat waiter that had been hitting on you when he was trying to get to know Bela. But once he realized what chat it was in, it all made sense. Even if the weight of the flowers’ significance was lost on most of the band. 

Huh. Dean thumbed to your one-on-one conversation and sent out a simple “Everything going okay?” It was weird he hadn’t heard from you, especially after you bowed out of his home cooked, post-adoption-event dinner. He squinted, realizing he hadn’t talked to you in over a week, since the morning of Bela’s charity gig.

Since he’d gone down on your best friend in the back of a limo.

Christ, way to be an entire dumbass.

The energy in the studio rallied, laughter and teasing rebounding after a slow start to their final day. Kevin had somehow got everyone to gang up on Sam, who now had a collection of post-it notes both insulting him and begging for violence slapped across his back. Dean took a pull off the bottle Lee had handed him and smirked as they watched Pamela saunter over to where Sam was checking his phone. 

She pinched Sam’s waist, which made him turn and back away from her, hands up in defense as she muttered some of her bullshit. Which left Sam’s back undefended.

“Oh, man, this is almost too easy,” Lee whispered.

“Tell me about it,” Dean agreed, chuckling as Kevin slipped another square of embarrassment onto Sam’s shoulder, butting into Sam and Pam’s conversation with a smoothness Dean had never expected out of the Juilliard graduate.

He handed the bottle back to Lee and pulled his guitar around and laid on a G chord, bringing everyone back to reality. “Alright, last song. Let’s fucking do it.”

The bass and drum parts were already locked in as far as Dean was concerned. Vocals finished yesterday. but hearing it all together made the music what it was. He wanted this one all at once, the final piece to the puzzle of this impossible album. Ash was at the controls, behind him was Bobby and Frank, who had shown up for the last leg of recording. Each nursing their own glass of stupidly expensive Scotch.

It was so close to done, Dean couldn’t help the smile that pulled at his lips as he stepped up to the mic that wasn’t even recording. And waited until Pamela counted them in. Every sensation zeroed into that moment, the strings beneath his finger tips, the weight of his guitar strap, the earpiece in his ear, the carpet beneath his boots and the pick in his right hand. He closed his eyes and felt it. 

And when he hit his entrance, he unleashed, nailing the take with his band at his side, crossing the finish line together.

“Charrrrlie!” Dean purred into the phone. “Your presence is requested at that one dive bar you like so much past Silver Lake. We wrapped today and you owe me a few rounds, your highness!”

Sam shoved Dean playfully and reached past the backseat for a bottle of water out of the cooler. Nerd. 

“Sam says hi. Oh! Pick up Trouble and bring her with you, will ya? She’s been radio silent all week. Anyways, this message is about to cut out. But I know where you live and I will—” Dean lost the race with the time limit. He pressed the button to accept the message, however truncated and hung up.

Sam wiped his mouth off with the back of his hand. “The other driver knows where to go?”

“Don’t worry, Tiny will get everybody there and back safe, won’t ya big guy?” Dean teased the unamused man that sometimes doubled as security for the label.

“We’re all set Mr. Winchester,” Tiny answered Sam with a glance in the rearview mirror.

Fifteen minutes later, they pulled into the parking lot of an unimpressive neighborhood bar ten blocks east of anything that had gentrified. Not a bouncer or a pap in sight, thank fuck. Dean plunked his half finished beer into a cup holder and held the door open for Sam to get out, still giggling at the few remaining scraps of paper that had made it back onto his shirt after he found them when he unhooked his bass.

They met Lee, Kevin, Pam and Bobby at the other provided black SUV before heading inside. The bar was dark for a sunny December workday afternoon in southern California, but the stale beer smell and the sight of well worn pool tables felt like home more than any vegan, new age-y, upstart lounge ever did. 

“Dibs on first game!” Dean called over his shoulder as he made his way to the bar to open a tab before Bobby could beat him to it. Wisely, Sam followed and plucked a menu out from a condiment tray, food was needed if they were gonna stay on their feet. Dean smiled at the bartender, a grizzled woman probably close to Annie’s age.

“Whatcha need sugar?” Her smokey greeting. 

Dean instantly thought of Ellen back home and he knew they made the right call coming all the way out here. He dragged out his credit card and slid it over.

“Open a tab, food and drinks on this card for any of those assholes by the pool tables, all night. Got it? The guy in the trucker cap is gonna try and outrank me, but don’t let him, capische?”

“You got it, handsome. What’s your poison?”

Dean cooed, “Oooo, careful, it’s still early. I’ll start with some wings if you got ‘em and a couple of baskets of fries, gotta ease into it. Then a round of shots of your choosin’ and a couple of pitchers of beer if you’d be so kind.”

“You got it. I’ll bring ‘em out when they’re ready. Anything for you big fella? Or is he sharing?” She asked Sam.

“I’ll have the club sandwich, but yeah, I think that’s it for now,” Sam smiled without teeth, but tucked a twenty into the tip cup to start off on the right foot.

“Sounds good boys, it’ll be right out.”

Madison and Annie showed up together sometime after six, but as much as Dean liked giving Sammy shit for having a legitimate girlfriend and everything, they weren’t who Dean was watching the door for. Annie grabbed him for a tight hug, ruffling his hair as she pulled back. 

“Feel good, don’t it?” 

Dean grinned, almost blushing, but knowing she got it, not just the rush of finishing an album, but doing it as he was trying to drag himself up a hill too. “Couldn’t have done it without you, you know.”

Annie smacked her lips and turned on an aloof air, “I know. I mean, of all the many washed up power ballad divas out there, you got pretty lucky.”

“Shut up. Nobody is gonna call you washed up, not if I have anything to say about it.” Dean gestured the bartender over, who he learned was named Dawn, wanting to get Annie and Madison onto the massive bill they were racking up.

The night continued with the band and their significant others drinking and playing pool or pinball if you were Kevin. Dean was feeling pretty loose when Pam stagger-stepped over to him and threw her arm over his shoulder. 

“This was a good call, miss those seedy dives we used to play in,” she said with a drunken kind of nostalgia in her voice.

“Hell, we wouldn’t exist without places like this,” Dean nodded in agreement, clinking his bottle of beer with the empty dangling shot glass in her hand.

She licked her lips. “Where’s your lady friend, hmmm? I wanna meet her already.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Tonight is just for the band. And, well, Madison. But last thing I need is to ruin poor Dawn’s night with a bunch of fucking piranhas in here chasing the right shot.”

“Still—- doubt she’d show if it meant living it up in the low places,” Pam snarked.

Dean cleared his throat. “Hey now. Don’t go judging a book by it’s cover. Bela’s tougher than she looks.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Pam huffed and slapped him on the back just as he tried to take a sip. 

Dean glared.

Pam laughed. “Okay, boss, let me know when you’re ready for a rematch, I’m gonna go find the little girls’ room.”

“Don’t fall in!” Dean called after her, which earned him a middle finger and a nice view of her walking away in her low cut leather pants. 

Yeah, Dean was feeling the alcohol among other things. He decided he had waited long enough and checked his phone again when suddenly somebody punched him in the arm.

“What’s up bitches?!” Charlie shrieked.

Dean’s entire mood lifted and he let her pull him off his stool into a big brother little sister hug. “Glad you could make it, red.”

“And, look, she lives!” Charlie stepped back and presented Trouble to him like a game show prize.

Dean swallowed. He felt lost looking into your eyes, searching for any hint of hurt or anger. Luckily, you weren’t drunk yet, so you slipped easily into his arms and gave him a hug of your own. “Hey.”

“Congratulations,” you said against his chest.

Dean squeezed tighter. “Thanks,” knowing he meant it more than he could ever say.

Tagging: @deans-spinster-witch

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@cosicas-cuquis

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@suckitands33

@ladysparkles78

@deans-baby-momma

@stoneyggirl2

@sassy-pelican

@leigh70

@globetrotter28

@winharry

@lastactiontricia

@rockhoochie

Chapter Nine: Giocoso

[agame-writes]

Thanks to @welcometololaland for the open tag! Baby fic writer trying to get back into writing, learn the ropes of tumblr, A03, etc. I'm also a smack-dab Millennial, so I'm scared to post GIFs.

Here's 7 sentences (OK, lines) from something I'm working on (think DILF Henry, YouTuber/children's entertainer Alex).

...

His waist wasn’t the problem. Henry had started there, pulling the buckle through the elastic strap and clicking it into place. He held 1-month-old Eliza close to his chest.

“So you can easily bend down and give their head a kiss,” Henry recited from the manual, which he knew by heart at this point. But how was he to kiss any babies when they still weren’t secured in the bloody carrier? There had to be some trick to getting the shoulder straps on.

All the YouTube videos he began frantically scrolling featured waifish mothers half his size. He sighed. Single-parenting a baby wasn’t going to be easy as a 6-foot male, was it. Eliza let out a squawk and Henry nearly dropped his phone. Grabbing for it, his thumb hit play on a video he hadn’t seen yet. He wasn’t prepared for the curly-haired god that lit up his phone screen with a smile as big as the sun. “Hey y’all, Alex again with another baby carrier review. I went with the most breathable mesh option for baby Luna here. So now that I’ve got it clicked into place around my waist,” (Henry was immensely grateful for the zoomed-in camera shot) “I just pick up this sweet little girl, how ya doin’, sweetheart, place her on my chest while I rock her a little - reach up for the straps, buckle them into place, pull them tight, and voila! Hands-free baby carrying!” He gave a little twirl, complete with jazz hands and a giggling baby in tow, and Henry was both furious and a little bit sweaty. The man even gave his (daughter’s?) head a kiss, goddamn him.

Henry found his fingers flying to the comments section before his brain cells could catch up.

Any thoughts on securing the shoulder straps for those with – please, love, stop squirming – a slightly wider frame?

Henry wasn’t prepared for the immediate response that came through.

...

No pressure tagging some of my faves even though I'm a stranger to you, please don't be scared I promise I'm nice: @orchidscript @three-drink-amy @kiwiana-writes @myheartalivewrites @indestructibleheart @rmd-writes @cha-melodius @cricketnationrise @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @gay-flyboys

[7grandmel]

Todays rip: 12/03/2024

Hella Pummel

Season 7 Featured on: Rips of Christmas Present

Ripped by venula

Requested by xinos! (Request Form)

God, man - trying to pick favorites from the Jay Eazy takeover of January 7th feels like pulling teeth. It's truly just as Mr. Eazy said - "Shawty's cute AND her circle too" - in that so many of the event's rips are all bangers in their own ways. There's of course You Are Book Smart, the rip I covered back as the event wrapped up, which still stands out as one of the event's most creative in execution - yet in terms of picking out pure BANGERS from the event, Hella Pummel had tons of competition (including one you might've seen floating about here on Tumblr if you're in Splatoon circles). And while I don't really have any attachment to Undertale Halloween Hack itself, getting the rip requested really opened my eyes to just how fun of a listen it is. In xinos' own words, "there's something so infectious about it that it gives me brainworms".

And yeah, I can't say I disagree - mashups like this that modify both songs used to make them really fit together, stuff like Guilty Eyes Creeper, have a sort of hum-along-ability to them that's hard to get out of your head. It's in large part thanks due to how Jay Eazy's songs, primarily Mega Man as used in this event but his other stuff as well, are sort of the perfect blend of being genuinely funny in terms of lyrics whilst having an infectiously catchy beat and flow. But Hella Pummel then also employs the fantastic little trick covered in Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and the days of high quality rips?, where the vocals are given just a slight amount of compression on top, giving them a sort of nostalgic texture and meshing more naturally with the source track used. In having Jay Eazy's part play along with the already catchy Puma Pummel, slowing down and speeding up, leaving reverb and such where it best fits the mashup, the rip feels incredibly harmonious on the whole as a result, with the vocal filter in particular reminding me of Jevil's voice samples in Deltarune in particular.

There's of course the unsung hero of the rip, the surprise appearance of classic YouTube video Epic Rap Battle: Nerd vs. Geek by Rhett & Link for the rip's chorus. What connection the song has to Jay Eazy isn't really something I can comment on (I suppose both have ties to making geek culture into listenable music?) but it serves as an incredibly fun 180 in the rip's high point. The continuing use of the rap beat iconic to Jay Eazy rips throughout the rip keeps it all feeling cohesive even through its different phases, and several small voice samples of the guy are interjected here and there to maintain that Eazy flavor - including putting his best ever bar, "I think my money is gay / There's too many men on top of one another", in the fade-out section at the rip's end.

Hella Pummel is the kind of rip that speaks volumes for itself, yet likely got overlooked by far too many people due to the sheer quality of the event as a whole. I again can't say I have any knowledge of Undertale Halloween Hack itself, but I'm incredibly happy that venula included its distinct music amidst her many sources for Jay Eazy rips during the event. Much of Hella Pummel's competition was rips also made by her, and I am incredibly happy to see that Jay Eazy has such a strong soldier aboard the SiIvaGunner team.

[buck-yyyy]

So what art series are you thinking about creating?

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THA--

okay SO. it'd be a series of self portraits, all exploring the ideas of struggling with both identity + mental illness alongside the mundane. picture snapshots of what seems like could be everyday life, but there's something else going on--the character seems a little bit too aware of the fact that they're... well, art. they're posing for the composition, reacting to things that aren't there to draw up interesting expressions, etc. etc.

it idea essentially surrounds two ideas.

1. the fact that when you're learning about mental illness as an abstract, it seems like this massive... thing. and it is! but living with mental illness is still living, you know? it's everyday life. it's something you have to learn to work around, and it becomes a new normal. you still have to brush your teeth, go to school, etc. it's nearly impossible to actually understand what it feels like when you're just reading a list of symptoms and treatment options, so you assume that's all there is to it, just constant symptoms that suddenly Happen and uproot your entire life--but when you're developing mental illness, it's really hard to identify when and where it starts and ends. what is normal? what is this new normal? what is my normal? i suppose i'd like to explore the feeling of coming to terms with said new normal.

2. the exploration of gender identity happening simultaneously alongside All That Shit. what is the creation? the character is delicately sculpting a new normal for themself at the same time as they're fleshing out who they are as this sort of malleable form. it's two different forms of self-discovery and creation, both fueled by different types of necessity, meshing and blending together into this deeply personal idea of a new self.

a new normal. a new self. see how they're the same, but also undeniably different?

the thing that would string it all together is two defining features of me: my headphones and a bright yellow headband i own, with big alien eyes. it's what creates the character outside of whatever unnamed issues they're struggling with--because it's not just about mental illness, it's not just about gender identity. it's about the character themselves, the journey, me.

it's all just creation. it's taking creation into one's own hands, rather than leaving it all up to fate, chance, god, and misery.

i am. being so normal about it tbh (no i am not i am Flipping My Shit my hands are ITCHING to start planning everything out AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA)

[caltropspress]

DEBRIEFING: 5 August 2023 | Brooklyn, NY | The Nursery at Public Records

Armand Hammer’s We Buy Diabetic Test Strips Pop Up Party, featuring Fatboi Sharif, Cavalier, and DJ Haram

On the helix approaching the Lincoln Tunnel I saw a Virginia plate that read PHUNKE—its occupants seemed anything but, but who am I to judge? Not since I saw EGO DETH on a Volkswagen Kombi in the artificial light of the Holland while driving in to see woods’ Church release show at Baby’s All Right in early June have I taken a license plate as a sign. Fred Moten writes that “the sign works its terrible magic precisely from within a radical non-isolation,” but it’s a bit too early in the everyday struggle for theory, wouldn’t you agree? What I’m focused on is the WE BUY DIABETIC TEST STRIPS signs plastered over walls and poles. A sight as common in NYC as POST NO BILLS and CA$H FOR CAR$. We close our eyes to these signs, oblivious to their ubiquity. We’ve become blind to them. But I saw the sign with “Armand Hammer” appended to it, and it opened up my eyes. Life is demanding without understanding. So I overstand the signs and signals sent through wires and cables when I dial 1-877-ARM-N-HMR. I focus. I fixate. I study Alexander Richter’s photograph from the forthcoming album of a lamppost covered in taped and torn flyers. The edges fray and flicker in city winds. Looks like the tendons and flesh rotting from the bones of Death in Hans Baldung Griend’s Der Tod und das Mädchen (1517) painting. Looks like some real litter-ature. Gathering on August 5th, just six days shy of hip-hop’s much-heralded 50th anniversary, I think of hip-hop flyers of the past, specifically Kool Herc’s Back to School Jam at 1520 Sedgwick. But MC Debbie D—a flyerologist of the highest order—tells us that the index card flyer is a phony, a fake, a fugazi replica, a forgery. Fifty years into this thing and we’re still searching for authentic experiences. Fifty people at a rap show and one’s an informant. I’m here to inform on what felt—brain to bone—like an authentic experience.

3PM in the sun. I lined up with the other RSVPs (the show was free, in every sense of the word) outside the venue. Summer summer summertime. Fresh Prince via Juice shit. The temp on my dash read 90°. Kids walked down Butler Street mantled with beach towels from the Douglass and DeGraw Pool. Spotted lanternflies dive-bombed my legs. Thank god I lotioned my pale neck. When the powers-that-be finally allowed us entry, the musk of maryjane and malignant body odor was thick. Now I knew (it hit me in the fucking face) what that PHUNKE license plate was all about. “Funk,” from the French dialectal funkière: “to blow smoke on.” I’m not complaining, though—it was a communal fumigation. We were funky technicians, one and all.

“The Nursery” that Public Records has built falls somewhere between greenhouse and Zen garden. The square space is essentially an urban enclosure where pine and plane trees and fresh lumber create a private performance patio, a paradise just beyond the concertina wire, as woods might say. The stage is bedecked with potted cacti, while I spied A. Richter across the way with his Fujifilm GA645Zi amongst the bamboo stalks. ELUCID’s green Champion mesh football jersey (the Bo Jackson jersey in the laundry, apparently) matched the soundsystem monitors, and I found what little shade there was to be had and huddled close to the soundman’s booth, a shed of glass. I almost managed to forget I was cordoned off by beige shipping containers. 

It wasn’t long before I was entertaining the idea of going full Fatboi Sharif, i.e., shirtless. Sharif himself only made it through half his set before shedding his garb—there wasn’t even a hospital gown in sight. The heat was on as soon as he came out to Can Ox’s “Scream Phoenix”—rising from flames. El-P’s Phillip Glass sample could’ve easily made a Sharif beat (we’re only talking a single generation removal, really). Sharif made quick work of some of his most recent altered realities. “Static Vision” included a call [I ain’t scared!] and response [Motherfucker, I ain’t scared!]. He ran through “Phantasm,” “Dimethyltryptamine,” “Designer Drugs,” “Think Pieces,” and “The Christening” like a buxom blonde through an abandoned building, revving chainsaw in pursuit. At times, his speech slurred into a makeshift Swahili (word to This Heat). It was strange to see Sharif in daylight, sunstruck, as I’m so used to seeing him in blood-flooded cellars or Joseph Conrad’s heart of darkness environs, like he alludes to on “Dimethyltryptamine.” He barreled through ventricles, riding shotgun in Sir Menelik’s Space Cadillac. DJ Boogaveli (who hypes up Sharif like it’s a pep rally at Springwood High) shouted about family at the start of “The Christening,” which sounded sincere compared to the tone Sharif takes on Decay—there the family must be of the Manson or Duggar milieu. He finished the track acapella, exhausting the last of his energy, only to reinvigorate and reanimate for a rioting rendition of “Smithsonian.”

I’ve yet to invest the necessary time into Cavalier’s work, though I know him from his association with Quelle Chris. With an album coming down the pike from Backwoodz, I found myself in the lucky position of witnessing his set incapable of discerning old material from new. He took centerstage, acting as his own hype-man and DJ (though he did high-five the invisible “DJ Light-skin” at one point), and his kineticism was immediately apparent. His floral button-down danced over his body as he rapped vitally. I felt vivisected by his exhortations and incisive observations. Keep in mind, my age prohibits me from becoming enthralled by any performer whose work I’m unfamiliar with—a sort of neuropathy of the soul. But he had me open and endeared by the time he implored, Put the tiger balm on it, put the tiger balm. As you wish, Cav. I lathered my chest.

“Y’all believe in magic? No? That’s okay.” Cav said it so quickly that he didn’t give anyone a chance to answer, but he assumed correctly, I think. Still, I was smitten by his conjurations—he made me a believer (no small task). “King me,” he rapped, “I’m trying to make it all across the board.” And, by the end of it, he had the entire crowd shouting “KING ME” back at him without a problem. MAKE SOME BLOODCLOT NOISE! he growled, and we didn’t need to be asked twice. IT’S VIBRATIONAL, AIN’T IT? With a seemingly innocuous phrase he was able to summon the spirit of the crowd. Over the course of his 25-minute set, I heard him rhyme epiglottis, brag of spitting a verse while performing cunnilingus, give a lesson on homophones, and regale us with stories of winking at cops in Whole Foods. “From the Tree of Life I smoke foliage,” he said, and the trees Betty Smith saw grow in Brooklyn circulated through his lungs. “We need to bring back weed spots—it’s not nostalgia.” Though he did rap nostalgically at times, letting us know he was born in BK, went to school not far from where we stood, and though he’s representing the 504 now, Brooklyn born-and-raised ossified his being into bone.

THIS IS CHURCH, YA FEEL ME? And I did feel him. I spent the week culling quotes about improvisation from Amiri Baraka’s Black Music (1967) for another self-assignment (I don’t work for anyone, son), and highlighted this passage: “...to go back in any historical (or emotional) line of ascent in Black music leads us inevitably to religion, i.e., spirit worship. This phenomenon is always at the root in Black art, the worship of spirit—or at least the summoning of or by such force.” [Peace to Kehinde Alonge—always at the ready with choicest recommendations.] Cavalier danced upon the altar and rapped his sermon relentlessly, tirelessly. I was raised up on tippy-toes, enthralled by the force of his spirit. THIS AIN’T JAZZ?! he asked. WHAT THE FUCK THEY TALKIN’ ABOUT MAN? I don’t know who’s doing that sort of talking, but they’d be hard-pressed to say such a thing in this public gathering. “Brooklyn, this is how it feels—all of us together: this is how it feels.” I believed in Cavalier’s magic by the end of his set. I was charmed by his satchel of High John de Conqueror. Let me know where to Venmo my tithe. 

The heat index had my vision tunneling. When Armand Hammer stepped on stage, sounds were moving in reverse, and the Class-A dynamite duo took us back (way back) in time, when ELUCID was in “fifth grade in [his] dad jeans” and he “played Game Boy in the backseat.” woods, with his first words of the afternoon, said he “rather be codependent than co-defendants.” This must’ve been “Landlines,” the lead-off from the new album, seeing as how they shouted-out JPEGMAFIA, ELUCID rapped “leave a message after the beep,” and a dial tone toned between verses. It was off the hook, as they say.

They seemed to be following the official We Buy Diabetic Test Strips tracklist, because next up was “Woke Up and Asked Siri How I’m Gonna Die” (a song with a title so long that it must’ve come from the magnum mind of ELUCID). She replied, she replied, she replied… they repeated, but I didn’t quite catch what that chatbotbitch said. woods refashioned a line from “Remorseless” with “Life’s a blip, I’m swimming under the radar.” Life’s a blip and then you die, that’s why we puff lye. Further deepening the uncanny valley, their third offering to the musty masses included “fake trees in the Apple Store.” I’m sensing something about the excesses of tech after a cursory listen to these WBDTS tracks, the detritus and pollution it produces. To quote my damn self, something in line with “...a cell tower with evergreen branches: / …a drone with seagull feathers.” ELUCID revived “a double portion of protection for [him] and [his] niggas,” explaining he’s “trying to only say what’s necessary.” By any means, sir. 

Cavalier was welcomed back to the stage for “I Keep A Mirror in My Pocket,” another new joint with Preservation on production. We the audience felt, collectively, like we were in the belly of the beast—those shipping container walls (a real Season 2 of The Wire sensation)—as Cav chorused and signified about the Big Bad Wolf. A cautionary tale, indeed. I can see clearly how Cavalier fits within the Backwoodz cadre. 

The content of the next number left no question of its title. “Niggardly (Blocked Call),” if I was asked to predict, will be the cynosure of the new album. (Yeah, you heard me right dog, I said cynosure.) Produced by August Fanon (who was in the place to be—a rare appearance from an elusive mastermind who would humbly demur if you called him such, I’m supposing), the song has an R0 = 15 infectious hook: “Admittedly niggardly, I won’t even give these niggas bad energy.” woods, what with his penchant for scales and measurements, boils everything “down to the last red cent.” How does he do it? Well, MY HEART PUMP KETAMINE, he yells. We find woods in one of his ruthless, no Vaseline moods: “I eat knowing I’m starving my enemies.” Revenge is like the sweetest joy next to spending time with your kids, and woods picked up where his verse from “As the Crow Flies” left off. He closed his eyes and rapped to the rafters and the sky:

I write when my baby’s asleep, I sit in the room, in the dark, I listen to him breathe, I walk him to school and then the park,  Hold they little hands while we cross the street, I think about my brother who is long gone, And this is all he ever dreamed.

ELUCID and woods repeated admittedly niggardly back-and-forth at the end, delighted with the wordplay. 

They kept riding the August Fanon beatwork like Thomas Sankara in the Renault 5 as the killer chords from “Smile Lines” crept in. The crowd response was screw-faced sneers and shouted lyrics. One youngblood knew the song front to back, beginning to end—ELUCID acknowledged him from the stage: “Peace to the homie out there—he knew every word, man.” I watched the dude beam from the compliment. Even after writing profusely—profusely (fuck Caltrops and his non-existent editor, here comes the predator…)—about woods and ELUCID, I still can’t memorize their lines. Chalk it up to some neurological incapacity that arrived in my 30s. I envy those who commit songs like “Smile Lines” and “Smith + Cross” to memory. My not-so-supple gray matter just can’t cut it anymore.

My expectations for We Buy Diabetic Test Strips were upended by the tracks they debuted. I’d speculated an abrasive noise event; a Sheet Metal Music for the new millennium we’ll never reach; a kind of Schoolly D “P.S.K.” FML swagger. There’s certainly elements of that, just not as much as I was anticipating. (And who knows what noise the as-yet-unheard tracks might bring.) I assumed the shared space with Soul Glo over the past several years, the screechings zapped through the receiver on the toll-free number, and their recent appearance on Shapednoise’s Absurd Matter would be an indication of the Shape of Rap to Come. Speaking of which, woods sludged through his verse from “Family” before DJ Haram’s scrapyard percussion ushered in “Trauma Mic.” 

Haram was at the helm for the entirety of Armand Hammer’s set, and she reveled and felt every ounce of her own beat. The buzzsaw sounds were like Baraka’s description of Don Ayler’s trumpet: “long blasts…in profound black technicolor.” ELUCID’s traumatized mic draped over his shoulder for the opening anvil strikes. He needed his hands free to clap in rhythm. The gesture was reminiscent, again, of Baraka’s analysis of the saxophone held by Albert Ayler (the elder Ayler), “a howling spirit summoner tied around the ‘mad’ Black man’s neck.”

The “Trauma Mic” video had me thinking on thematics of refuse and rubbish—you best protect your dreck. I thought back to the garbology Aesop sifted through, where I saw Bakunin’s barricades in the city streets and revisited the actions of The Motherfuckers in the late ’60s—they stood in solidarity with striking sanitation workers and dumped garbage at the doorstep of Lincoln Center. Armand Hammer—outfitted as scrappers, pitching barrels and coiling skeins of copper wire—are of the same spirit. They propose a cultural exchange of garbage for garbage.

woods bodied “No Hard Feelings” and was joined by damn-near the entire crowd. Had it sounding like a tenant revolt as we all screamed, LIKE THEY STEALING! The Aethiopes track equals, if not outright overtakes, “Asylum” and “Remorseless” as most affecting in the past year’s blitz of performances. 

ELUCID stood on the precipice, at the edge of the stage, as he rapped through “Barbarians.” He went swimming into the crowd with his free arm, astro-spiritually. The refrain of “Who the fuck are you?” evolved from the accusatory tone heard on Rome to an existential “Who the fuck am I?” ELUCID and woods bandied the question between them like two college kids in the dorms at 2AM, faded as fidduck. The “intelligent fist” of woods and the “mysticism” of ELUCID (to use an equation Baraka applied to Milford Graves and Sonny Murray) working together to produce a manic mix. They kept the marriage going through “Mangosteen” before turning to the heliocentric worlds they invented in collaboration with the Alchemist on Haram. “Black Sunlight” and “Falling Out the Sky” had me thinking of Baraka (again!): “It only takes two to start a group. If the two are maturely strong, and have a oneness, then the others will feel it and touch their own sound, voice, or whatever.”

ELUCID’s last solo number was “Spellling,” and by then he was spent but still perseverating in the dopest way possible. “This is a physical experience,” ELUCID said as the song began, asking the soundman to turn the volume up higher. IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII been spelling, he spoketh [an ever ever elongated I and a shot-to-the-dome of “been”]. The I Told Bessie opener became what Baraka calls “an antiphonal rhythmic chant-poem-moan.” ELUCID’s voice was ragged by this point, a metallic scrape as he shouted about being “your momma’s favorite, since about ’88, ’89.” The down in “just got to heaven and I can’t sit down” was made malleable in how he twisted it around in his mouth. Split tongue heavy lifting.

He had nothing left when the alarming squeal whistle warp of “Stonefruit” started to play. But the audience assisted, screaming with him I REALLY CAME IN ON A CYCLONE as his voice gave out. woods jumped in early when it was his turn, which proved a moment of levity. To err is human, and woods—despite the adoration he’s been receiving—is endearingly human. That humanity is probably why so many of Armand Hammer’s fans have become zealous collectors, showing up at the venue with cardboard boxes full of vinyl, willing to wait patiently for woods and ELUCID to write their names in metallic Sharpies on these their prized possessions. “First Armand Hammer show in the states in a while,” woods said at one point. “Small flex,” ELUCID noted, chuckling. But they brought it home on Saturday. It was “As the Crow Flies” made manifest. woods brought all the Backwoodz family on stage at the conclusion of their set. The family atmosphere afforded by the 3PM start time was embellished by the sight of children on shoulders. It had the feel of a triumphant affair. It’s winning, it’s winning, it’s winning…

Peace to the conversations that were had with Alex Richter, Willie Green, Max Heath, and Sharif.

Photos credit:  Rory Simms

AH setlist:

1.  Landlines 2.  Woke Up and Asked Siri How I’m Gonna Die 3.  [???] 4.  I Keep A Mirror In My Pocket 5.  Niggardly (Blocked Call) 6.  Smile Lines 7.  Family 8.  Trauma Mic 9.  No Hard Feelings 10.  [???] 11.  Barbarians 12.  Mangosteen 13.  Black Sunlight 14.  Falling Out the Sky 15.  Spellling  16. Stonefruit

[deadcactuswalking]

REVIEWING THE CHARTS: 16/03/2024 (Ariana Grande's eternal sunshine, 4batz/Drake)

For a fourth week, Beyoncé holds the throne on the UK Singles Chart with “TEXAS HOLD ‘EM”. Outside of that, it’s Ariana Grande week, so welcome back to REVIEWING THE CHARTS!

Rundown

Before we get to Ari or, well, anything else, we always start with our notable dropouts, those being songs dropping out of the UK Top 75, which is what I cover, after five weeks in the region or a peak in the more prestigious top 40. This week in particular, we bid adieu to: “Overcompensate” by twenty one pilots (not a surprise there, it seems like a pretty inaccessible lead single), “Forever” by Noah Kahan, “On My Love” by Zara Larsson and David Guetta, “Fast Car” by Tracy Chapman, “Perfect (Exceeder)” by Mason and Princess Superstar and finally, “Popular” by The Weeknd, Playboi Carti and Madonna.

As for our re-entries and gains, God, it was a big day for those this week, especially given not much else was going on between the top 20 and well, everything else. Mitski’s “My Love Mine All Mine” is back at #75, “Make You Mine” by Madison Beer is back at #53 (great!) and two well-deserved awards show boosts are present here - Jungle, the BRIT Awards’ Best British Group, re-enter at #43 with the incredible “Back on 74” and thanks to Billie Eilish getting her Oscar win for Best Original Song, the equally incredible “What Was I Made For?” zooms back at #16. It’s pretty impressive that there are four re-entries here, all in vastly different spaces of the chart, and they’re all fantastic. As for the gains, we see a lot, scouring pretty much all of the chart, so let’s any% speedrun this section: “Thank You (Not So Bad)” by FBI’s top six most wanted criminals at #68, “Anti-Hero” by Taylor Swift at #65, “Happier” by The Blessed Madonna and Clementine Douglas at #61 and okay, break - that song apparently samples “Du hast” by Rammstein, which I just didn’t hear last week when it debuted. Despite being a classic on rock radio all over Europe, the song never charted in the UK’s top 100, and I always preferred “Sonne”. Now back to the list: “Would You (go to bed with me?)” by Campbell and Alcemist at #60, “ONE CALL” by Rich Amiri at #59, freaking “Baby Shark” at #57, “I Remember Everything” by Zach Bryan featuring Kacey Musgraves at #55, “Green & Gold” by Rudimental and Skepsis featuring Charlotte Plank and Riko Dan at #54 (not really excited for how a trend of the 2020s is having so many artists credited), “FE!N” by Travis Scott featuring Playboi Carti at #41, “Evergreen” by Richy Mitch & the Coal Miners at #37, “Austin” by Dasha at #25, “Kitchen Stove” by Pozer at #22, and finally, thanks to the release of her album, “yes, and?” by Ariana Grande rebounds to #6, just outside the range for our next segment.

Now for our top five, starting with “Lose Control” by Teddy Swims at #5, “End of Beginning” by Djo at #4, and Ariana Grande landing her second top 10 hit in this week, the clunkily two-titled “we can’t be friends (wait for your love)” at #3. Obviously, there’s more on that later. As for the rest, it’s to be expected: Beyoncé leads and the pack and Benson Boone’s “Beautiful Things” isn’t far behind at #2. Now for… less beautiful things, let’s dissect some of the new entries we have here.

New Entries

#71 - “if u think i’m pretty” - Artemas

Produced by Artemas and Daintree

Alright, I’ll bite: who the Hell are Artemas? Or Daintree for that matter? Well, Artemas Diamandis is a budding singer-songwriter with a questionable moustache who’s popular on social media, with this being a breakout hit from October last year, though it now of course has slowed and sped-up versions because the world is not safe from TikTok’s impact on popular music. Daintree seems to be Artemas’ go-to producer, and the two wrote this alt-pop song about a toxic relationship where to put it bluntly, he needs to pick up his standards. There’s a unique androgyny to Mr. Diamandis’ voice and it actually meshes very well - at least his falsetto does - into the vaguely eerie synth distortion and haunting elements very fitting for a song released in late October. I think the effects end up a bit overdone sometimes, attempting to make up for an underwritten song, and I really don’t like how the snare sounds, even if the constantly repeating vocal chop, and the way the lead vocal melody ends up stuck in a jam with it, is really clever, there was a lot of effort put into the song’s sound design, it just doesn’t really translate into a full song for me, especially at barely two minutes. Cool ideas are definitely here though.

#70 - “Uh Uh” - Clavish and Fredo

Produced by KP Beatz

We don’t have many other new names here: Clavish, Fredo, Nathan Dawe - they’re staples of UK chart weeks in the 2020s - and Drake and Ari are inescapable, so this’ll be a pretty familiar episode I feel, which is kind of refreshing. I mean, I’ve been listening to ratrace90210 and Yeat and Butterfly Boy, there’s something relaxing about knowing partly what you’ll have to say about something going into it. With that said, even I was surprised with how cheap and basic the piano and flute sounds in this beat were, the piano in particular really sticks out and unintentionally sounds off-beat due to just how basic the loop is. I would prefer for more layers of the RPG-sounding flute, but once the trap beat comes in, it’s easy to ignore some of the lacking melodies, it goes pretty hard and has much more of a pace than Clavish’s usual output. He’s definitely improving as a rapper too, the sheer length that he goes on for considering the wordy flow and delivery he chooses is kind of impressive and there are some interesting lines, particularly when he… denies living the life in his raps which is just surprising if anything. The way the “uh-uh” ad-lib is implemented sounds a bit tacky sometimes but given the rhyme scheme often delivers a similar sound, it can be pretty seamless sometimes as a call-and-response, it’s just a shame that Clavish doesn’t have the personality to sell it more. Fredo does though and this is an incredible verse from him. His cold rhetorical questions, much more developed rhyme schemes than Clavish, and how much more command he has of his flow despite using a similar one to his fellow rapper and even taking time to be further off of the beat… it really shows who’s been in the game for longer. “I hit any girl I want like a woman beater” is a crazy bar though, I have no idea how to feel about that, and he doesn’t really give you the time to think about it.

#66 - “We Ain’t Here for Long” - Nathan Dawe

Produced by Nathan Dawe, Neave Applebaum and Punctual

Nathan Dawe and its three ghost producers are back in the top 75 with a song I… already had liked? Yeah, this song is from early February, and I don’t know in what context I heard it but I should say that this is, for Dawe’s standard, a pretty great track. The singer is Sam Harper, a songwriter who’s worked with… BTS? Damn, well, okay, make that bank, girl, you can probably live off of that and don’t need to take credit for the heavily filtered vocals here that stand out in a mix that feels a bit barebones: it has the boiled-down essentials of a modern Eurodance jam but not much more, and that really picks up the pace in an “end-of-the-world” kind of way. She sings that she’s barely holding on and she’s got to live her life before it’s gone, with every element of this song feeling like it wants to just make way with itself and flee, and that’s definitely a compliment in this case, there’s a certain frantic sense to how the ATB-esque acoustic guitar drop is placed into staccato formation like old video game music. With how much the song wants to be done, you’d think it’d peter out by two minute, but no, we get that fizzling and striking bridge where Harper laments how much she’s doing for other people just to feel empty in return. We immediately get back to dancing of course, but after that resonant bridge, it hits way harder than it did before, with both Harper and Dawe adding little tricks into the final chorus, whether that be a change in the inflection, an added refrain of “I gotta live my life” or a flashy pre-drop glitch. It’s all very obsessed with desperately wanting to stop existing and for a trance song in an ever-increasing dystopia of how we live now, this feels particularly relevant… and it would be pretty poetic for the UK in particular to make this a hit in 2024. And please do, it’s great.

#18 - “act ii: date @ 8” - 4batz featuring Drake

Produced by Untitled Beatz and 40

Okay, firstly: Official Charts Company finally correctly recognises a remix’s popularity and credits accordingly. Nice. Secondly… sigh. So I gave a lukewarm review to Bryson Tiller’s “Whatever She Wants” on its debut week but pretty much immediately, I’m talking the day after, it clicked with me and I’ve been slightly obsessed with it. It actually has me excited for how rappers, singers, rap-singers and sing-rappers are going to implement non-Atlanta trap elements into R&B and vice versa as we get more diversive rap landscape with hyphy, Detroit trap, drill, Jersey club, dembow, Afrobeats and more competing for further influence in mainstream rap. Tiller and the beat both chug at a constant level and only stop to murmur tensely before piling right back into action. The beat sounds like if Rick Ross was on a treadmill and instead of really trying to sing, Mr. Tiller just tries to keep up, even if it leads to him doing brief harmonic riffs and pausing for sound effects. The original “act ii: date @ 8” by 4batz, which lands on its chorus by accident, has a similar appeal in its vintage shimmering keys and more organic-sounding bass, though I hadn’t heard it before the Drake remix. 4batz goes for an adolescent delivery that makes its determined, one-minute-and-done young love feel even more weightless and fluttery. I wish it didn’t go for the cop-out not-really-all-that-chopped and only-technically-screwed outro of course, but otherwise, it’s pretty decent and oh, the big-name remix essentially plays the song unchanged and then has Drake rap over that exhausted, slowed-down version. The youthful, Hell, maybe even childlike, lovestruck song empowered by its brevity is extended to a lethargic nearly four minute track, the majority of which consists of what sounds like a reject from not even For All the Dogs, more like Certified Lover Boy. There’s an oddly homoerotic passage in the middle, then he interpolates the original just to rhyme it with “I’m a stand-up guy like Dave Chappelle”. Sure. If this helps a newer and more interesting R&B artist to launch a career, it’ll be a net positive, but this version is a butchering of the original’s spirit in my opinion.

#13 - “bye” - Ariana Grande

Produced by Ariana Grande, Max Martin and ILYA

Okay, let’s get this out of the way: I liked two tracks off of Ari’s #1 album eternal sunshine: “the boy is mine” and “I wish I hated you”. Like always, her intro was pretty sweet too. I have vaguely more long-form first impressions on RateYourMusic, but I’m mostly just turned off by the nothingness the album presents: a trendy, vaguely pleasant pop-R&B album for sure, but not one that takes many risks - which Ariana can do - or makes use of its more cinematic production to help the songs get any stickier. Sometimes she sticks the landing, but mostly I did not care for it and couldn’t get myself immersed. Yet I’ve been listening to abstract cloud rap, underground plunderphonics of both the folkish ambiance nature and layered nu-disco instrumentation, and primarily, nu metal, so take all of that with a grain of salt. Like I said about 4bats, sometimes I’m not sure why I still write this show. With that said, there’s a lot less I have to say about these Ariana songs than I think I’d have wanted to. This one, strikingly, has had Ariana speak on it being too emotional and her not wanting to erase ALL of the humanity from it. Huh. That’s definitely reflected in the rote disco groove and oddly fuzzy bass which does add some texture but doesn’t make the lead vocal melody in the chorus any less… obvious. In fact, that’s really my main problem with this record: it’s obvious. The pre-chorus sounds genuinely brilliant, this is a gorgeous vocal performance from Ari and that swell is fantastic, but it ends up going for a kiss-off that’s undetailed and non-specific outside of name-dropping her friend Courtney… who the fuck is Courtney? The whole album’s vulnerable but never in a way that fully immersed me, it feels a bit closed-off not in an aggressive way but in a “the bridge over the moat has yet to be lowered kind of way”. Drake’s whole passage about his three different Jasons in “Away from Home” accurately displays my emotional connection with eternal sunshine but the difference here is that Drake very much knows that you don’t know who these people or events are and plays into that to construct his narratives. These Ariana Grande songs just feel oddly distant, and for a triumphant dance-pop song, I want to be IN the moment, not a peasant looking up at a celebration in the tower. Just saying.

#3 - “we can’t be friends (wait for your love)” - Ariana Grande

Produced by Ariana Grande, Max Martin and ILYA

More than half of our debuts this week are in lowercase, I guess this really is a muted week. Speaking of muted, this was oddly a bit of a sleeper hit within the week, having its music video and SNL performance give a lukewarm first day room to breathe and a bit of a boost for the whole album but especially this… and it’s a blocky synthpop pastiche, and I MEAN blocky. One of my least favourite tracks on the album and really one of Ari’s worst ever in my opinion, this goes for the one thing I don’t think she could ever sell: a discussion of Ariana’s relationship with the media, doubling as a relationship story. You can see similar interpretations of thank u, next but even if I don’t like that record, I will give it props for its depths and honestly, its stakes and the tragedy that surrounds that album and its predecessor. This track though... what informed this? What informed the backlash-to-the-backlash towards critics in the chorus? What informed the tumultuous nature of Ariana’s pop culture ups and downs this time? What informed the grotesquely unwarranted orchestral outro? Oh, right, nothing to care about. I used to be a Kanye fan, artful self-indulgence is not something I’m opposed to - Hell, go for it and more - but when the writing is purposefully secretive and vague, the lead vocal melodies are so staccato that Ari has to push character out of them through just her inherent personality, which itself is a fragile beast and most importantly, it sounds a cloudy fuzz of parodic ass with conveyor-belt synths standing sore in the mix… I’m left questioning why I should allow myself to give it my time. Given that ending line of the second verse, it also makes me wonder if Ms. Grande even wants me to. Hard pass on this - “the boy is mine” was right there as a single, this feels like an easy cop-out for an album that had a shaky first week.

Conclusion

Yes, Ari gets Worst of the Week for “we can’t be friends (wait for your love)”, as much as I wish she didn’t, with a Dishonourable Mention to… Drake. Drake gets the Dishonourable Mention for ruining a promising song in “act ii: date @ 8” by 4batz. As for the best, it should be an obvious lock for Nathan Dawe with “We Ain’t Here for Long”, as Artemas taking an Honourable Mention for “if u think i’m pretty”, I could see some better songs coming from this guy if we give him more than one chance at a hit. I don’t envision much of intrigue in the coming week, but regardless, thank you for reading, rest in peace to Eric Carmen, and I’ll see you next week!

[rainbowjay20]

Christmas Master Post

Ended up getting a bit of new stuff this year. First Solar Christmas lights. Who Knew?

Two strings and Mesh

Dazzle Bright 2 Pack Solar String Lights Outdoor, Total 80FT 240LED Solar Powered Waterproof Fairy Lights 8 Modes, Copper Wire Lights for Christmas Patio Party Tree Yard Decoration (Multi-Colored)

and Mesh also christmas windsocks

The lights have been shutting off early due to heavy rain and wind, but that is 9-10pm, which is fine by me.

For some reason, the top of the tree isn't showing? I'll get a better shot once my angel arrives. We've been putting a parrot or a moose on an upper branch for years. I ordered the topper I wanted from Etsy after several failed attempts to make it. But my house is a modernesque victorian. So I wanted some lace on there somewhere. It's too expensive for the whole tree.

It's subtle, but it works. I didn't want to overload the tree either. It's a pencil tree. (roaring laughter ensues) We had regular trees that weren't that big! I was going to stick it behind my TV!

The first one Amazon sent out though, went back. After quotes of Christmas tree features 670 lush branch tips, providing a lifelike appearance and shining leaves, I was very disappointed. The picture looked satisfactory, although not overwhelming.

When the box came, I thought it looked small, and it turns out I was right.

It looked like the pom-poms my high school gave out/sold at pep rallys. Not even the ones the Cheerleaders used. They were much better quality. Seeing some other reviews of people who bought this on Black Friday, it seems it wasn't even the 7 foot it promised. More like 3 or 4. Luckily, I was ahead of the game and had the dud bought and returned before Thanksgiving. So, on Black Friday, I executed round two of treemania and got a 7.5 foot Flocked Pine Pencil Tree

This morning I finshed my shopping, save a bed for the puppy. I knew exactly what and where, I just have to go pick it up. Then I am totally finished except for finishing the house, maybe recording some music and possibly baking. Maybe buying cookies.(It's cheaper.)

Not the earliest I finished, but not the worst either.

Of course, I still have to wrap yet...

Thank god for gift bags!

[mattodore]

I adore your sims and the way you create narratives. They're all wonderful and your style is so gorgeous. I was wondering if you had any recommendations for more realistic details, like scars, cuts, burns, just any sort of thing along those lines. Finally gave in to the urge to ask after seeing your post captioned "Family Lineage".

Your sims are so alive, the last sim is so cool and i love how you embrace features.

Do you have go-to creators for those sort of details, or are there any sliders or any specific cc pieces you recommend? I'm not sure what to really call those sort of features, 'imperfections' doesn't feel right to me, they are a part of oneself and they deserve love too! So I hope this makes sense?

I love creating stories and making ocs. I want to bring more diversity into my sims. I hope you have a wonderful day sorry if this is a lot and thankyou so much in advance if you decide to help out, take care <3

first off, thank you for being so kind. i do spend a lot of time toiling away in cas when i'm making sims, so i appreciate you for saying that. just a lot of love from me to you <3

okay, so as for recommendations... i'll just start this off by saying that my skin details folder alone is 45gb... so. there's honestly too much for me to rec everything, but i've got my mods folder open right now so i'll just go through the main contributors here.

this got a little long so i'll put a little read more here to save the mobile users some grief fkhnkfjh

as just like a general baseline for cc, i'd download everything from @obscurus-sims, @sims3melancholic, @ddarkstonee, and @northernsiberiawinds. these are my favorite skin detail creators and i promise you every single sim i make is guaranteed to have at least one piece of their cc on. i won't mention them in the recs from here on out, but they all have some of what you're looking for!!

then i'd download the color slider mod before getting into the actual skin details themselves, because there's still a lot of cc that doesn't have appropriate color swatches for darker skintones and i have to use the color slider mod more than i'd like in order to get scars or other cc of that nature looking right.

now okay, so for realism i'd say you're going to want to download wrinkles, eyebags, veins, body overlays, and facial structure overlays. most of my realism cc is from faaeish....... but well. you know what happened there. i don't know if there's an archive of all their old cc, but if there is you'll want to download decades, chubby cheeks, and structure. nolansims, gerbitshi (nesurii), and simulationcowboy have some good wrinkle cc! and i really like using okruee's misc. skin detail cc for the last few swatches which add wrinkles. nell has some face veins i like to use on my older sims to add to the look of thinning skin as they age. sammi-xox and moonchildlovesthenight are for body overlays—so like, if you have a fat sim with a skin on that you like but the skin is just, like, supernaturally jacked for no reason, you can use one of their overlays to fix that. thank god. my facial structure folder is full of remussirions' blushes and contours as well as goppolsme and nesurii!! marigolde and mari have good stretchmark cc. OH!!! and download acne cc! breezytrait's acne scar cc is actually REALLY good for giving the effect of pores and aging skin. i used it on matthias's father!

as for scars, burns, birthmarks, etc.! with scars i just googled scar cc and downloaded everything even if the previews looked bad lmao. but nell is my main creator for scars. they make the best scar cc hands down and i might be misremembering, but i'm pretty sure their scar cc works very well with the color slider mod. pyxis and redearcat also are all over my scars folder. if you've seen alessandria, she's literally covered in redearcat's scar cc. mintyowls has really good eyebags and birthmark overlays. adelarsims and pinkpatchy have some body prosthetics and limb mesh edits i like, though they're not very functional </3

onto face sliders!! definitely gonna recommend the face asymmetry slider by luumia (i like to use this veeeery subtly but go wild with it if you want), the esotropia and exotropia slider by obscurus as well as their eyebrow slider which allows you to disrupt the symmetry of them, the thicc slider by hiland which adds fat under the chin, the mouth scale slider by teanmoon for bigger and fuller lips bc fr what was ea thinking with their lip slider, and dani-paradise's cheek slider!

[bluestsdays]

all devon could think about on the walk to meet miller was how badly she wanted to kiss him last night, and how dangerously close she was to actually following through with it, too. and she shouldn’t still be so caught up in him, in this, not only considering her relationship status but the fact that he was leaving, too, heading back home to someone else, having to settle for hearing his voice through her phone speaker and reading his words through a screen, once again. just the thought of his girlfriend waiting on him at home was enough to set her alight with jealousy, a feeling only worsened by the hours she spent scrolling through the other’s social media accounts last night while she attempted to sober up, staring at all the pictures of the two of them together, spiraling silently while fletcher lay sleeping beside her, blissfully unaware. and she can’t seem to shake it, even now, the feeling meshed with one of utter anxiety, worried about all she said, if she really was remembering it correctly. those fears quiet for a moment once she spots him, experiencing that familiar relief she always did once they were in one another’s presence— as if she’s returning back to some secret place they occupy between the two of them, that no one else could understand or gain access to. the same place they were tucked away, last night. she can’t help but smile at the sight of him, there, at the cup waiting for her as she slides into her seat across from him. “ hey, thanks— think i probably need, like, fourteen of these after last night, ” it’s followed with a huff of a chuckle, wasting no time in bringing the cup to her lips, unable to wipe the smile from her features as the liquid slides down her throat. “ yeah, it’s still my favorite, ” and it’s much better than the disgusting cup fletcher attempted this morning, one she ultimately poured down the drain. “ i like a couple extra shots of espresso in it, now, but i probably shouldn’t, ” she laughs, unable to ignore the sadness that infiltrates her system realizing that drinking coffee with him was once an every morning occurrence, and this marked the first time in years. “ i’m… well, not great. i thought i was dead, waking up this morning. you ? ” a pause, as her tongue runs along her teeth, tasting the remnants of sugar from her coffee. hands reach up to rub at her face, then, a headache brewing. doesn’t help that more anxiety comes rushing in, thanks to the caffeine. “ did i… god, did i say a ton of stupid shit last night ? because i feel like i did, and i’m really fucking embarrassed about it. ” hides it with another sip of coffee, head hanging low as a sigh departs her lips. “ and i'm sorry if it was awkward when fletcher showed up— i didn't think he would, honestly. was he weird ? god, i'm sorry if he was. ”

time skip. the newfound confidence he had last night seems to have dissipated, now that he sits here the morning after, waiting for her to join him. he’s met with a blur of memories from their interaction the night before— from the various topics of conversation, to how close they were drawn together, close enough that he could’ve kissed her, if he so much as wanted to. dawns on him, now, that he almost did, so caught up in a world that was no longer theirs, a normal that was so anomalous to them, now— that he would’ve done that very thing, inching close enough until it was their lips that brushed, rather than their fingers or their hands, if they hadn’t been interrupted. and it had been reality, then, that had come crashing down around him; a stern, clear reminder that she was no longer his, that they were no longer together, when it was her boyfriend’s presence that had pushed them apart. although it was for the better (that he knows it was for the better), miller can’t help the feeling of animosity that seeps in his chest, that deepens the longer he considers it, sipping away at his coffee. and it’s not warranted, not in the slightest— not when he’s tried to move on to his best ability, when he’s tried to do everything he possibly can to not be caught up in her, to stop thinking about what happened between them a year ago, or what’s been happening since they’ve rekindled their friendship, these past few months. it’s playing on loop through his mind, own anxieties blooming as he considers it, along with every other blurred snippet he has of what he said, what he did, last night. it’s still present when she arrives, even as he tries to push it aside, attempt to make it all less obvious. finds it easy enough, when his eyes land on her, instantly feeling at ease when she comes into his view, like a significant weight has been lifted. a soft smile curves at his cheeks, eyes brighter once they’re in close proximity again, as if his body has been buzzing, waiting for this moment of reunion since they parted the night before. he doesn’t dare to think about how this might be the last time he sees her for awhile, considering his flight back later today. “ hey, ” he begins, gesturing briefly towards the takeaway cup sitting opposite him. “ i, uh— got you your usual, thought you might need it after last night. i know i did, ” a nervous chuckle emits from his throat, as he raises his own for a sip. “ shit, i mean, i hope that’s still your favourite? i guess i… don’t really know, anymore, ” he ignores the pang of sadness that radiates in his chest at that thought the best he can, shaking his head as if to change the subject entirely. “ how are you doing? not too hungover, i hope? ”

[geographerdose]

Moon and appearance, pt. 1

🌝 I learned that moons have an effect on appearance — I created these to see any discernible patterns. What better than to start with the moon-ruled risings? Aries - Virgo

**still in progress** updated the layout and still working on filling out the rest but it’s worth noting aries always gets the most attention

⏰ clockwise by picture in description

cancer rising - aries moon: Angelina Jolie, Tyra Banks, Duffy, Lauren Bacall

🦎 Bet reptiles have an Aries moon

☀️ There’s a noticeable “warmth” to Leo and Aries moons. I can almost *see* an orange aura surrounding them

🍡There’s something FIERCE about Aries Venus/Aries moon women’s beauty, really ANY fire placements in the big 3

🥊Aries women and their beauty, particularly moon and Venus. My god. Venus is at its detriment in Aries and these people are, just, 🤩 gorgeous

👁The EYES are so prominent in cancer rising - aries moons natives. They are electrifying and almost glow. It’s like looking at a fireplace in a fogged window on a winter night —> fire encased in a watery container. I feel like Aries moons have lighter features, whereas Aries suns/risings have darker features (brown eyes, dark hair) but this is pure conjecture 🫖

🧑🏻‍🎤I feel that this is because the moon softens the typically fiery&Mars-driven 👨🏻‍🚒Aries. Being that both are cardinal energy, they mesh well. I believe this is why cancers find themselves being attracted to Aries and vice versa. (I, for one, am a sucker for a warm, brown-eyed & refreshingly masculine Aries man myself 😘)

🔮I feel entranced by their eyes, cannot look away

🎶 🍑 you got me so hypnotized, the way that body rollin”… 🎶 🍇 late ‘00s nostalgia Plies

cancer rising - taurus moon: Margaret Lockwood, Lisa Bonet, Cameron Diaz, Fairuza Balk

🪵Taurus moons have this captivating gaze, even in photos. Their eyes are steady as the ocean 🌊

🍭 Captivating gaze but I remember to breathe, they bring you down to earth like fixed earth moon energy likely should

🌸their eyes are so awake; crisp and clear thanks to the Venus-ruled moon. Gorgeous eye shape, ample whites 👀

🦉I feel like I’ve just been spotted by a bird of prey when I look at these taurean moons OR is it that they are the ones who just spotted a hawk eyeing THEM down? 👀

✨ Alright so the moon must have something to do with eyes because these guys’ moons are ruled by Venus and their eyes just sparkle

cancer rising - gemini moon: Emily Deschanel, Jennifer Garner, Milla Jovovich, Kylie Minogue

⛸ Virgo and Gemini moons have this *sharp* kind of beauty; very clean. 🌲 Virgo is the more mature of the two (mutable earth so a certain *fixed* vibe) 🐸 Gemini is like the inquisitive child and more scattered (mutable air, we don’t get more scattered than that…)

🫒The eyes just say “I’m hiding something and wouldn’t you like to know what it is?” teasing. I wouldn’t be surprised if these guys get projected on for “hiding” something they’re not even hiding 🤓

🦒Mercurial beauty just screams grace and intelligence. I got the idea they might be tall and I was right for 3 out of the 4 but then Kylie Minogue is 5’0”! Vs 5’8”/5’9” of the others

🥸the way they can truly manipulate so well though. act unbothered when not. like it’s hard for them to not say what’s on their mind too though. socially smart for sure these ones! i have had good and bad experiences but then again at the time I was lower energy. always trying to up that vibration ⬆️⬆️📈

cancer rising - cancer moon: Eleanor Parker, Farrah Fawcett, Nathalie Baye, Jeanette Macdonald

💡there’s a subtle glow to cancer moon&cancer risings; they shine like the full moon in a *matte* way

💎The cancer rising&cancer moons remind me of a light bug lamp in the middle of a late summer night among close friends. You know those white light bugs but a lamp made out of them. 🏮Soft like those lights back in the early 00s you could stick anywhere and just push them in and they light up. [But those were more of a yellow light vs the white light I see with cancers.]

😁their SMILES! My god. Shine city, sweetheart. 🛋(“Sofa city, sweetheart.” -who said that in one of three beloved Molly Ringwald movies of the 80’s?) anyways I have a point: Molly Ringwald’s sister in Sixteen Candles totally has a cancer rising/cancer moon! When I see the patterns of this energy via the pictures, I am reminded of that character! The one who’s marrying that🥩 “beefcake”& “totally bitchin” I ❤️ 80s slang

cancer rising - leo moon: Julia Roberts, Twiggy, Banu Guler, Amy Lee

🏕the leo moons that have more of a *bright* way of shining — literally golden that differs from the “matte” version with a cancer moon

🍎“Fiery eyes” of course with the fire moon. Less chaotic than Aries moon but just as intimidating. Feeling the need to *impress* them

🌙 it’s fun to see both luminaries in the ascendant/moon. I will be curious to see the difference with a Leo rising/cancer moon 🥸

🍿luminous are these types

Alright so I had to look up interviews with these Leo moons and:

🥤Julia Roberts: 90s interview and paraphrasing here but “it’s not for me to judge your gender” way before gender was a thing society was really concerned with —> revolutionary but they don’t feel the need to prove it, they’re just being themselves

🍭Amy Lee: So graceful and sincere. Both of them are so regal in the way they carry themselves. Amy is so down to earth, I want to be her friend.

🎀GREAT story tellers!

Their eyes are unfazed, great poker face for a cancer rising. I like that all of them were okay with speaking about what they were not pleased with.

cancer rising - virgo moon: Suzanne Vega, Sharon Tate, Barbara Bach, Kate Bosworth

⛸ Virgo and Gemini moons have this *sharp* kind of beauty; very clean. Virgo is the more mature of the two

👀Virgo moons have extra prominent eyes, at least the cancer rising ones. Biggest eyes of the cancer risings? Virgo moon. I mean this in a good way! Their eyes are prominent and gorgeous. More round than 🥂*sparkling* and inquisitive, curious eyes of a Gemini moon

🧖🏻‍♀️most likely to be thinner I think simply because Virgo is very concerned with health. 1st house, mars, rising affect this most I think. I’ve noticed most of the celeb charts I’ve come across and the few Virgo moons I’ve met IRL (except for one for sure) have been health-conscious if not thin

👗very pretty bone structure. I think it’s an earth moon thing tbh. Barbara Bach is so graceful and well-spoken. Very proper. But we have to think of the times too. I was watching an interview from 1979. Times have changed. 🦅

🦩Kate Bosworth has more “spunk” and “fun” to her but then again this interview was filmed in 2020 so. 40 years. That’s like more than an entire Saturn return. There was this dry humor in the 70s and people just talked all proper. I love it. 🦦

🎄the difference is going to differ between each person but I’d say fire degrees or at least more fire/air influence in Kate vs. Barbara probably has more water/earth influence. Which is coincidentally kinda “dry” but like the opposite of how social air signs can be (except maybe Aquarius lol). 🐿