#the lull of joshua is just too much unfortunately

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

Mr. (Not so) Perfectly Fine

AN: Not sure where this came from, but here we are. Maybe one day I'll write Josh in a non-toxic way lol. Also tagging Kai @lovelyhan because it's the law. I joked about writing a series of fics based on Taylor Swift songs. This fic isn't part of that idea. I just thought this title felt fitting (it's based off of a Taylor Swift song for anyone unaware).

Synopsis: Falling in love with Joshua was easy. It came to you easier than breathing. It's no wonder, then, that when he offers you a fraction of his affection after shattering your heart months ago, that you would grasp for it. Regardless of the consequences.

General tags and warnings: Joshua Hong x Fem! Reader, not super relevant to the plot but, this is a Non-Idol AU, exes to exes with benefits, elements of angst, Josh is emotionally constipated, Soonyoung and Seungkwan featuring as supportive but, tired friends, discussions around Reader having low self-esteem and being self-loathing at times, discussions around an unhealthy relationship and returning to it, alcohol and alcohol consumption, Seokmin featuring as a genuinely good guy who probably deserves better and discussions around jealousy and possessiveness on Josh's end.

Smut tags: mentions of throatfucking, mentions of piv sex with a condom (I know who am I?), mentions of a Daddy kink, it's implied that Josh is pretty self-centered (generally but, sexually more specifically) but, that does get remedied later, nipple play (f. receiving), Reader sucks on Josh's fingers, praise (f. receiving), implications of Reader being a bit of a masochist, Reader sits on Josh's face, overstimulation (f. receiving), pet names, dirty talk, begging, piv sex without a condom, marking (f. receiving), biting (f. receiving) and creampie.

Word count: 8514 (...I don't want to talk about it.)

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

The first time you found yourself at Joshua's doorstep was an innocuous Thursday evening. The sun had begun its descent on the horizon when you began the familiar route to his apartment building. You're not entirely sure what possessed you to knock on his front door, or what had possessed you to drive there to begin with. However, when he swung his door open, dressed in nothing but, a simple black shirt that clung a little too tightly to his broad chest and some grey sweats. Surprise colouring his handsome face, you knew it was too late to back away now.

To your shock, however, Josh had let you in without much question. Stepping aside wordlessly, you took the very obvious invitation. The sight of his living room was familiar in a way that churned the pit of your stomach. You weren't going to fall apart in his living room like the way you had when he broke up with you. You wouldn't allow yourself to. Wasn't it pathetic enough that you'd come grovelling back to him without much of a reason as to why? That you're likely about to have the most uncomfortable conversation that you've had in your entire life?

You're not sure what you'd expected from Joshua. He joined you on his couch, always too white for your liking but, didn't say anything. You weren't sure if he'd been waiting for you to explain why you're at his place after close to four months of next to zero contact.

Idiot. Of course he was.

"I," you start but, the words never seemed to find you. You focused on the pictures that decorated his wall. Choosing to look at anywhere that wasn't him at the risk of losing your already fickle train of thought. Pictures of him in suits with different friends and business partners. His work smile working overtime in all of them as he'd been showered with endless awards and promotions.

His work had always been the love of his life.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," were the first words he'd uttered to you in months. That had caused you to whip your head to face him. Reading Joshua was a skill you had never been able to master.

Master? You doubt you'd even be considered an amateur at it after a year of being with him.

His face betrayed little but, a barely there glimmer of understanding bled through that even you managed to catch. Understanding is an emotion you wouldn't typically associate with the someone like him. However, it flickers across his too handsome face nonetheless.

Perhaps you should've consulted an exorcist because before you know it, you're not sure what caused you to kiss him. You two have barely spoken, and there you were, gripping his shirt like a lifeline and kissing him on his stupid couch as the figures in his photographs act as spectators. You were going to apologise. You were going to erase him for good from your brain and dig a hole for yourself to crawl into.

But, then he'd kissed you back. His kiss, much like him, wasn't all passion and desperation. It was slow. Methodical. His soft lips refamiliarising themselves with your mouth once more gradually. As if he had all of the time in the world. Testing to see if this would be worth it. If you would be worth it.

Whatever he had been looking for during his exploration, he seemingly found because before you knew it, you found yourself amidst the sheets of his bed. Cool, navy blue sheets acting as a balm to your far too hot skin while his large hands mapped the expanse of your body. His heavy cock bruised the back of your throat before you found yourself arched for him with your face in one of his soft pillows and his long fingers in your hair. After months of no sex, specifically no sex with him, it took you a few long moments to adjust to the sting he provided.

From then, it was bliss.

His pillow muffling your whimpers and moans. Cries of 'Joshua' and 'Josh' and 'Daddy' were partially swallowed by the soft material. Your fingernails clawed at his sheets while he found relief in your body. His hips stuttered into you and filling the condom he had hurriedly put on, especially when the last title had hit his ears.

The two of you dressed in silence. The ruffling of your clothing and the sounds of the city all that you had to comfort you. When you stood on unsteady legs to leave, he hadn't walked you out. Not that you expected him to but, that didn't stop the sting from developing behind your eyes and your throat from growing tight.

Bliss was so, so easy to come back to. And come back, you did. You and Joshua still hadn't spoken all that much. Not putting any labels on... whatever tentative understanding the two of you had. You simply show up to his apartment, and he knows what you're here for. If you can't have him the way you want to, you'll have to settle for the way he needs you.

Two weeks.

Two weeks is the longest time you've gone without knocking on Joshua's front door. You can't help the guilt that twists up inside you and shreds your insides. However, you know rationally that you have nothing to feel guilty about. Joshua isn't your boyfriend anymore. He hasn't been for six months now. The two of you simply find solace in each other's bodies. It has just been easier with him than expending your time and energy on trying to meet anyone. Especially with how little energy and time you have as it with work all but, drowning you.

However, as Seungkwan has tried to sear into your brain, this isn't exactly healthy. Letting yourself fall into his bed and come apart underneath him for the past three months is likely in your top five unwisest decisions you've made in adulthood.

But god, it's just so easy.

"You know you deserve better," Seungkwan stresses to you for the likely millionth time. His typically kind face marred with a frown that does not suit him in the slightest. His glass of wine left completely untouched on your coffee table with his arms cross over his chest. Soonyoung nods, taking a sip of his own wine before speaking, "He's a dick. He's pretty much been using you since the two of you started dating."

"That's not true," you protest, your wine sloshing dangerous before you simmer down a little. "Joshua has his....issues but, I don't think it's fair to say all he does is use me. I mean, I'm the one who showed up to his door after us being broken up," you argue, "If anything this is a mutual using of each other."

"Except you're in love with him," Seungkwan deadpans. Soonyoung once again nods in agreement. Traitor.

"I'm not in love-"

You promptly stop talking when both men shoot you looks. Your face warms and you hide in your glass of wine. The liquid pleasantly heating your veins and acting as a phenomenal distraction from the gazes of your friends that are far, far too piercing.

"We're just here because we're worried," Soonyoung says softly and you can't bare to look into his eyes right now. You're too scared to see what you'll find in them. You're not sure what's worse. The pity or the frustration from the two of them.

"If it makes you two feel any better, I haven't gone to him in two weeks," you respond weakly. Despising the knot that builds in your throat and the tears that burn your eyes. You feel no better than when you were in university crying to them about shitty hookups and even shittier exes.

"That's a great start," Seungkwan responds sounding genuinely happy. Genuinely proud of you. His warm, larger hand grabbing yours and rubbing soothing circles into your skin. "Also, I'm sorry. I know you're an adult and I don't want to come across like I'm scolding you but, it's really hard watching you go back to him and break your heart all over again."

Oh, the guilt is back. Different but, present all the same. At this point, it's become an ever present companion for you.

"I'm sorry too. I know it's not fair for me to put the two of you through this either," you whisper in response. You don't think you're capable of speaking any louder right now.

"Hey now!" Soonyoung butts in, grabbing you both by your shoulders and crushing you to his chest. Seungkwan, to everyone's shock, only protests minimally, "What are friends for? Now both of you stop being so gloomy. We're here to get tipsy on cheap wine, inhale all the carbs we can and watch bad movies. Get it together."

The laugh that Soonyoung forces from you is foreign and a little rough around the edges but, it's one of the few you've managed in longer than you care to think about. And if you cling to him more fiercely than usual, he has the grace not to mention it.

It gets a little easier after that. You haven't found yourself knocking at Joshua's door for a good month now. Soonyoung seems ready to throw you a party over it and the same pity isn't as present in Seungkwan's gaze when the three of you find the time to catch up with each other.

Joshua never messages or calls you in the time you don't spend in his bed. You suppose you shouldn't be surprised. You're typically the one reaching out to him and making the journey to his apartment to experience a fraction of him. To bask in whatever he's willing to offer you.

You're not sure whether what you two have can be classed as affectionate. It was better than nothing, at least, you had supposed.

You still can't help the sparks of bitterness that fester in your system when you open up your chat with him. A simple 'Okay' from him being the last message in the conversation when you asked if you could come over. God, you were pathetic. Sad. Desperate.

Perhaps it's pettiness or spite or the resentment or maybe some part of you still wants his attention but, you send him a message before locking your phone for the night and turning away to face your windows. The voice in your head (that sounds suspiciously like Seungkwan) echoes that maybe that wasn't a good idea. Maybe allowing your anger to get the better of you wasn't wise. However, what's done is done. You just hope sleep finds you quicker than it has over the past two years.

You: I'm going on a date on Friday.

Seokmin is a nice guy.

No, calling him nice isn't fair or true to the man's character. Nice is vague. Meaningless. A platitude at best.

Ever since Soonyoung very heavy handedly sent you his number in the hopes that you'd focus your attention elsewhere, you two had been speaking borderline nonstop for a week now. Him regaling you with the less glamorous aspects of being an actor and you venting to him about a particular unruly classroom. You'd learned that he cried easily and had a weakness for anything dogs related. He'd learned that you love musicals and random historical facts.

It was the first time in a long time Joshua had barely crossed your mind. He still had but, it was an improvement. A week wasn't realistic enough to completely be clean of him but, you were taking steps. Seokmin definitely made it less difficult.

So, when Seokmin, nervousness rolling off of him in waves even over text, had asked you on a date, it was a no-brainer that you'd agree without much question. You deserve a pleasant night out. It also certainly doesn't hurt that Seokmin is an Adonis of a man.

You honestly don't remember the last time you were giddy over a date. Over a man. Butterflies kicking up in a storm in your stomach when you agonise over what you should wear. The temptation to cancel springing up more times than you count with every drag of your hangers and article of clothing that adds to pile accumulating on your bedroom floor. Fortunately, you find a dress in the back of your wardrobe that clings to you in a way that balances attractive and formal masterfully.

Seokmin is somehow even more attractive in person. All the pictures you came across during your search across his social media accounts do not even begin to do him justice. He's funnier too. His tales of disastrous productions and poor costume fittings prompting laughter out of you the likes of which mostly Soonyoung and Seungkwan are able to. Before you know it, it's already been three hours, and your mostly plates and glasses remain largely untouched.

"I had a great time," Seokmin starts once you two are outside. Whether it's the breeze or his proximity to you, goosebumps rise on your skin. It doesn't help that his cologne infiltrates your senses and muddles your mind further. The butterflies have chosen now to make a reappearance as well.

"Me too," you reply, your cheeks hurting from how hard you've been smiling all night and now isn't any different. Seokmin looks for all the world that he wants you to kiss him. Kind, brown eyes fliting down to your lips in a way you assume he hopes is subtle but, it's not. Terribly so. It's cute though. He's cute. However, you think you're going to take it slower this time around. As infatuating as he is, you know you're in no place to be kissing anyone.

Before you can bring up a different topic to help cut some of the tension weighing on your chest, your phone vibrates in your hand. Alerting you that your Uber has arrived.

"Looks like my ride is here," you tell him with a disappointed turn of your lips. For all your reservations, you really wouldn't have minded spending some more time with the man who would put the sun to shame.

"Have a safe ride home. Text me when you get home, okay?" And his blinding smile spreads across his handsome face once more. You've only known Seokmin for a short period but, it feels freeing to talk to someone whose feelings you don't need to attempt to decipher. They're there and clear as day on his face and in his words. Or maybe you're projecting. That's possible.

"Will do. Text me when you get home too, okay?" You reply, steeling your resolve before pulling him in for a hug. Hugs are fine. Safe. At least a safer option than kissing. Seokmin happily returns the gesture and heat that you haven't felt in some time begins to simmer in the very pit of your stomach when you feel how solid he is.

Now is not the time.

"Of course. It was nice getting to finally meet you in person. Hopefully we can see each other again," Oh. The butterflies certainly feel strongly about that.

Untangling yourself from his built frame is unpleasant, and a deeply irrational part of you wants to continue to cling to him. You opt to shove it down. "Hopefully," you respond with a coy smile, "I'd like that." And you truly would.

Seokmin watches you enter your Uber. He watches you until he can no longer see the car, and the gesture brings a smile to your face so wide that it feels a little foreign. If the driver hears your dreamy sigh, they choose not to comment on it. Thoughts of the actor with perhaps the brightest smile you've ever seen in your life fill your mind all the way to your apartment. Seokmin is still occupying your thoughts as you greet the on duty security and enter the, thankfully, empty elevator. More people don't need to see you practically levitating over this man. Over one date.

The smile that's been stinging your cheeks drops from your face when you notice a figure lingering at your front door. You can tell even from this distance that it's Joshua. Your steps grow more hurried, the clinking of your heels echoing through the empty hall. You suppose you're grateful that none of your neighbours are out. You're not entirely sure how this is going to go based on the anger bubbling up inside of you at the sight of your ex-boyfriend.

Joshua turns his head at the sound of your heels and he has the nerve to smile. To look relieved. You beat him to the punch for once instead of allowing the very tentative wall you've meticulously been building since the last time you found yourself in his too cool bed to crumble.

"What're you doing here?"

The bite in your voice takes even you by surprise but, you're too tired and a touch too fed up to really care about potentially offending him. Your arms crossing over your rapidly rising and falling chest as anger courses through your veins.

For all your inability to typically read him, the surprise on his face is clear as day. You don't think you've ever seen him look this unsure, a nervous hand carding through his short, dark hair. Oh. He must have cut it in the time you haven't found yourself on his doorstep.

"Hi uh," he stutters in a way deeply unlike him, "Can we talk inside?"

A voice that sounds very much like Seungkwan screams to send him away. To cuss him out where he stood in your hall and send him back to his sterile apartment that you never quite seemed to fit into.

However, you've never been good at saying no to him.

"Fine," you spit, walking to your front door and unlocking it while he stood by just hovering. Admitly, beneath the frustration and anger and annoyance at seeing him again after what has felt like ages, a miniscule part of you is curious why he's here.

Joshua walks in after you easily. The same way he used to when the two of you were together. The knowledge simultaneously dulls and sharpens the knife that twists in your gut but, you push it aside. Maybe an actual conversation is far overdue so, you can finally be free of him. Your coworker Wonwoo likes to joke that closure is just an invention of fiction but, just maybe this is your chance to find a fraction of it.

He shuts the door behind him while you turn on the lights. You want nothing more than to kick off your heels, pour yourself a glass of wine and regale Soonyoung and Seungkwan with all the details of your night. Joshua sure has a knack for ruining your plans.

"So, what do you want to talk about?" You ask once you've gathered all of courage. Leaning against the back of your couch, waiting for him to explain himself. Ignoring the way your throat burns seeing him in your home again.

"How was your date?" Are not the words you were expecting and they throw you utterly for a loop.

"What?" You blurt out sounding completely flabbergasted, "Is that why you're here? Fucking seriously?" The anger that's been simmer under the surface grows in ferocity once you begin to piece together why he's here. Why he's decided to reinsert himself into your life.

"You're here because you're fucking jealous?"

He has the nerve to look affronted by the assertion, "I'm not jealous-" he starts but, you're beyond frustrated and annoyed right now. Seungkwan would be proud.

"Joshua, please. Then why are you here? Why are you asking about my fucking date? Because you want an update on my life? You haven't reached out to me in fucking months!" You exclaim and you just hope you're not loud enough for any of your neighbours to hear. Though your concerns around that are minimal as the object of your anger walks towards you tentatively.

"I know," he sighs, continuing to run a tired hand through what you assume was his meticulously styled hair, "Honestly, I'm not sure why I'm here. I'm sorry. I just- I just miss you, I think."

Soonyoung has always been fond of calling Joshua an asshole over the course of your relationship and even after its end, but, in this moment, you realise Josh is not just an asshole, he's cruel.

His admission renders you speechless. You probably look comical just staring at him as his words sink into your brain.

'I just- I just miss you.'

He continues on his cruel streak, your carefully constructed walls falling to pieces with every syllable that leaves his full lips, "When you sent me that text, it just felt so awful. I felt awful and I think I realised just how much I missed you. Missed having you around. So I just got in my car and drove here," he breathes out, nearly tripping over his words in a rush to get them out, "I think I'm starting to understand why you came to my place all those months ago," he laughs with very little humour.

You think this is perhaps the most vulnerable you've ever seen him. More than your first date. The first time you told him you loved him. The first time you two slept together. All of those moments could not ever hope to hold a candle to the unadulterated emotions stirring in his doe eyes right now.

"You really suck, you know that?" You respond, the watery quality of your voice not going unnoticed, "Just when I thought I could let you go and move on, you just had to come back and do all of this. Say all of this," you mutter tiredly, shutting your eyes to just have a moment to yourself to think. To breathe.

The press of his forehead against your own is startling but, and you won't ever admit it to anyone else, comforting. It just feels so good to allow yourself to melt into him. The familiar scent of his too expensive cologne infiltrating your senses and muddling your brain further. Your hands grasp the front of his shirt, a shuddering breath leaving your lips.

"I know. I'm sorry," he whispers, and he's just so close, and you remember how easy it was to fall in love with him. How easy it is to continue to fall into him every chance you can.

So you do.

Everything, every voice that sounds like a friend screaming at you that this is a horrible, stupid idea, that you've been doing well, are all silenced when you press your lips to his in a kiss that is more hesitant than anything else. He kisses you back fiercer than you anticipate. Than you're used to from him. Swallowing your startled gasp like it's the first thing he's consumed in days and cupping your face with his large hands. His teeth nip at your bottom lip briefly when a whimper falls from your lips from how aggressive he's being.

"This is my favourite dress of yours," he mutters into your mouth between kisses, the tender way his thumbs brush your face juxtaposing with his desire to seemingly consume you whole, "I've always thought you looked gorgeous in it. So beautiful. Sexy," he continues, one of his hands drifting to palm at the thickest part of your exposed thigh. Arousal pools in the pit of your stomach. The fact that it's been months since you've been with him, been with anyone, fully hitting your body based on how quickly you find yourself becoming wet and your thighs rub against one another.

"My beautiful girl," he whispers, not giving you enough time to process his words before his mouth descends on you again. His hand kneading your thigh in a way that could be considered desperate if this was anyone other than Josh, shoving the material of your dress higher.

Once you remember you can touch him too, your hands find themselves in his now shorter hair, the inky locks filling the gaps between your fingers easily and the groan he presses into your lips worsens the ache you feel at the apex of your thighs. You want him. You don't think you'll ever stop wanting but, seeing him lose his composure for once has your panties sticking to you in a way that grows uncomfortable fast.

"Bedroom," you whisper, maybe part of you is worried that if either of you speak too loudly you'll burst this bubble you've found yourselves in. Josh just nods, tugging you to wobbly feet and pushing you towards your bedroom. His mouth never leaving yours while his hands touch and feel and grope and paw at every part of you they can reach. You try to not think too hard about how this reminds you of the first time he spent the night here and, how easily he seems to remember where your room is.

Fortunately, it doesn't take the two of you long to bump against your bedroom door. Fumbling with it longer than necessary while being lost in each other. A breathless giggle from you fills the quiet space when he curses while struggling to shut it behind him. Your laughter doesn't last long. His lips pressing scorching kisses to your throat as you settle onto your bed. It's like he can't even go a few seconds without touching you somehow. The thoughts prompts your heart to thunder in your chest.

"Can I take this off?" He asks against the hollow of your throat, impatiently tugging on the straps of your dress. You nod quickly, shuddering when he runs his teeth along your pulse and you feel him lightly grinding against your thigh.

"I want you to use your words, baby," baby. He really will be your demise. You can't remember the last time he called you that and, it only further fogs up your mind.

"Yes, Joshie, please," you whimper, your fingernails biting into the muscles of his biceps. The veins on his forearms coupled with the way the muscles flex is just so hot that it feels just the slightest bit unfair. Briefly, you wonder if he wore a short sleeve shirt because he knows how just a little bit stupid his arms make you.

He stills over you. His lidded eyes widening in surprise and, that forces you out of your lust-filled daze. He beats you to it before you can question his change of demeanour.

"You called me Joshie," is all he says in explanation at first, fingers ghosting over your shoulders. The barely there touch causing goosebumps to rise on your skin, "You haven't called me that since we broke up," he finishes and the raw emotion in his eyes renders you unable to respond for a few, long moments.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't-"

"It's okay. More than okay, actually," he cuts you off with a shake of his head, tossling his hair even more, "I didn't realise how much I missed hearing you call me that and Shua until now," he leans down, heavy eyes focusing on your well-kissed lips as his hands begin to slowly undress you, "Please keep calling me by those names."

The control he had slips out of his grasp as his hands tug down the straps of your form-fitting dress. While you'd much rather wind your arms around his broad and solid torso, you concede for these few minutes to help him undress you. Helping him free your arms from your straps before he tugs it off of your body in record time. Between how quickly you find yourself nearly naked and his words, you can't help yourself reaching for him and he happily complies. Nestling himself between your thighs properly while his hands squeeze your breasts over your bra.

"Shua," you whine into his mouth, your hips jolting up to his when you feel him pressed against you. Your hands tug him as close to you as humanly possible. Determined to fuse yourself to him and, based on the way his grip on you grows harsher, he doesn't seem to mind the idea all that much.

"God, I fucking missed you so much," he groans, nuzzling himself into your neck once more. Licking and kissing every millimetre of your skin he can, and every breath hitting you sends you further into madness. You suppose after months of not being touched, even his breath fanning against your skin is enough for goosebumps to rise to your skin and your thighs to clamp around his waist.

"Missed you too, Shua," you sigh, arching into him when his soft lips drift from your throat to sear kisses to the tops of your breasts. His hands reaching behind you to skillfully unclasp your bra and toss it somewhere onto your bedroom floor. Completely forgotten as he takes the opportunity to drink in the sight of your breasts moving with every greedy inhale and shuddering exhale you take.

"God, you're beautiful," he sighs in a way you'd almost describe as dreamy. His irises totally swallowed whole by his dilated pupils. The 'thank you' you intend to respond with is wiped from your mind when he latches onto one of your hardened nipples. His massive hand kneading your other breast to ensure it's not neglected. Your fingers weave into his hair, tugging on it with each tug of his plump lips and lick of tongue. His fingers tugging on your nipple enough to make you gasp from the embers of pain.

"Always so responsive," he chuckles throatily against your skin, pinching your nipple to prove his point. His eyes glinting at the way you moan and grind against his prominent length.

"Stop teasing," you whine, pouting at him. You're taken aback by the way his eyes soften considerably. Leaning up to press a heartbreaking gentle kiss to your more than likely bruised lips while his hand drifts towards your thighs. Swallowing your keens as his stupidly long fingers drag themselves over your panties. Coating them further in your wetness while you attempt to ground yourself by clawing at his broad shoulders.

"I'm sorry," he says and, based on the way he speaks, you're not entirely sure what he what he's apologising for.

His fingers shove your panties to the side and touch your slick folds directly before you're left with your thoughts for too long. "Joshie," you cry into him with every barely there brush of his digits. Your hips bucking into him when they circle your clit before continuing their leisure stroke of you.

"You're so fucking wet already," he groans, returning to your breasts to litter them with much harsher kisses. His fingers shallowly dipping into your entrance but never giving you the satisfaction you so deeply need. "All of this just from some kissing and playing with your tits, baby?" He asks, glancing up at you like you could realistically answer with his long fingers touching you and his breath fanning across your breasts. The amusement in his tone prickling your cheeks in embarrassment, more of your wetness leaking out of you and onto him.

"Or maybe you just get this wet for me." He muses out loud with a grin that's too smug for your liking. "Don't roll your eyes at me like that," he chuckles. However, the lightheartedness of the moment is cut short when he brings the hand that's been toying with your pussy up for you to see.

"I mean, it is true though. Isn't it?" He poses with a glance to gauge your reaction as his fingers spread, your arousal webbing them. You wouldn't be surprised if you were radiating enough heat from your face to rival the sun.

"Shua, that's embarrassing," you whine, avoiding his intense gaze, choosing instead to focus on an imaginary spot over his shoulder.

"There's nothing to be embarrassed about, baby," he mutters, resting his slick fingers on your bottom lip and focusing on them fully, "If anything, I'm flattered," he finishes with another arrogant uptick of his lips. It doesn't take much nudging for you to part your lips and for him to push his digits into his mouth. A quiet groan hitting your ears when you hum around them, your tongue licking up the taste of yourself eagerly.

"Fuck," he hisses, his thumb catching the drool that slips past your occupied mouth, "I should let you suck on my fingers more often. You look so pretty with them in your mouth," he mutters, grinding his hips against you as he memorises the sight of you gagging on his fingers and lapping at your essence. "Plus, I know how much you like them. You're not very subtle," he laughs, pulling them from your drooling lips and leaning away from you.

He doesn't give you much time to complain or miss his warmth over you, hooking his thumbs into the waistband of your soiled panties and tugging on them so frantically you're worried that he'll rip them. Luckily, they remain intact and soon join the heap of your clothing strawn all over your bedroom floor.

You don't typically have the presence of mind and time to feel self-conscious when you've been with Joshua. Too preoccupied with shutting your brain off and enjoying whatever time with him he lets you have. However, the way he pauses and his eyes leisurely scan your body now tempts you to hide in your pillows. Your heart trying its utmost to burst out of your chest and your blood roaring in your veins all you can hear.

He doesn't leave you to spiral for much longer. Tugging off his shirt that costs more than you think a plain, blue shirt has any right to. Your walls clench hard when your eyes land on the expanses of muscle, skin and arms that are available for you to fully consume.

"I want you to sit on my face," he says and his words are laden with so much unflinching desire. His eyes reflecting the same emotions and, you didn't think it was plausible for you to get any wetter yet, here you are.

"Shua, you don't have to-"

"I want to," he cuts you off with an air of finality. His gaze holding your own and waiting to see if you'd push this.

"I was such a fucking selfish asshole," he huffs, dragging the hand not covered in your spit down his handsome face, "I'm sorry."

You soften at that. Reaching for his hand and lacing your fingers with his, "It's okay."

"It's not," he argues, squeezing your hand before letting it go and settling beside you, "You deserve better than me, you know."

"I've been told," you respond dryly, trying your utmost to keep the images of your friends out of your mind. Basking in the warmth of his body.

"I'll make it up to you. Every chance I can. I promise I'll make it up to you. So, come here," he says as though his words don't close up your throat and cause your heart to hammer against your chest. When he looks at you like that, how could you ever dream of denying him?

Joshua's eyes never leave yours the entire time you move to settle yourself on his handsome face. The look in his eyes makes you feel like you're being set alight from the inside out, only finding a brief reprieve when his focus shifts from your face to your pussy. Large hands palming your thighs while his eyes drink you in.

"Come here," he commands, pulling you towards him. The strength in his hold causes your walls to flutter but, he doesn't force you. Giving you the chance to settle down on his face at your own pace. It doesn't take you much more prompting to do so. Carefully straddling him to make sure he can still breathe and that you're not smothering him. Joshua, however, doesn't care for your concerns. Firmly pulling you down onto him and latching onto your clit like a man starved. Not allowing you a moment to catch your breath. Long fingers biting into your ass as he guides you along his face.

"Shua," you cry, steadying yourself on your headboard while he continues to eager lap at your clit. Your thighs quiver around his head with every suck and lick he gives you, his hold helping you along his tongue. If you could find the strength to crack open your eyes, you would've noticed him watching you. His cock twitching in his boxers with every shuddering exhale and moan from your bruised lips.

The knot in the pit of your stomach tightens faster than you anticipate. Perhaps it's not being touched by anyone for so long or, perhaps it's simply Joshua that has your orgasm building up so quickly. From the way he groans into your drenched folds and his fingers dig into your so harshly that you wouldn't be surprised to find imprints on your ass later, he doesn't. If anything, your fragile state just motivates him. The vibrations from all of his own sounds of pleasure coupled with his unrelenting tongue made it so you really never stood a chance.

He continues to lap at you through one of your most intense orgasms. The grip you have on your headboard bites into your skin but, you can't bring yourselves to care when your walls spasm continously and your vision darkens around the edges. Overwhelmed tears spilling from you and streaking overheated face.

"Joshie," you whimper, your hips attempting to jolt away from him but, his strength is unrelenting. Keeping you firmly situated on his face while his focus shifts lower. A shudder running down your spine and goosebumps once again prickling your skin when he chooses to lap up your wetness directly from the source. The prods of his tongue and brushes of his nose on your clit make your stomach feels as though its tangled in a series of complicated knots.

The tears continue to fall freely as the overstimulation settles itself into your very bones. Your second release hits you like a runaway train. Your choked moans and cries of his name echoing so prominently throughout your bedroom, you're a little worried your neighbours might hear you. Joshua doesn't seem to care all that much. Cursing into your twitching entrance as more of your wetness seeps out of you and onto his awaiting tongue.

His hold on you eases up significantly after that, and with the near nonexistent energy you have and on still shaking thighs, you move off of him. Gracelessly plopping yourself down next to him in an attempt to regain sensation below your waist and come back from whatever dimension his mouth sent you to.

"Are you okay?"

Cracking a tired eye open to meet his heavy but, slightly concerned eyes proves to be a mistake. His hair is a complete and utter mess. Sticking up in every which direction in a way that just endearing him to you. However, the flush to his cheeks and sheen of your juices on the bottom half of his face quickly diminish any less carnal feelings you felt bubbling up for him. Despite nearly blacking out from how hard you came. Twice. Your body still opts to betray you. Your walls clenching around nothing at his dishevelled state and the outline clear as day in his dress pants.

"Yeah," you manage to croak out, cringing at the scratchy quality of your voice.

"Good," he mutters before kissing you. It's much gentler this time around. His tongue still snaking its way into your mouth and, the taste of yourself on it is enough for you to pull him closer to you. Tugging on his hair with every press of his plush lips and nip on your bottom lip. You're reminded that he's very much still hard and hasn't cum when the weight of him rests against your thigh. Just the idea of his cock pulls a wanton whine from you, which he happily swallows.

"Want you," you pant against him, trying your best not to allow yourself to completely lose yourself in his swirling, brown eyes.

"You have me, baby," he responds with more meaning than your fuzzy brain can process right now. His thumb caressing your cheek while he plants quick but, gentle kisses to your lips.

"No," you say, reaching one of your hands between your bodies and cupping him over his pants. He groans against you, his hips jerking against your hand, "I want you, Joshie," you emphasise with a squeeze of his girthy, long cock.

"I wanted tonight to be about you," the drop in octave of his voice only adds to the fresh wave of wetness leaking out of your pulsing hole. "Well, I want to feel you inside of me. That makes it still about me, doesn't it?"

You would laugh at the strangled 'fuck' that leaves his lips if you weren't at your wit's end right now. His kiss is much more aggressive this time around. Barely giving you any time or room to breathe or think while his hands fumble with the buttons and zipper of his pants. Tugging them and his boxers off at record speed and tossing them unceremoniously to join the mess on your bedroom floor. His lips remain attached to yours the entire time. Determined to make you think of nothing but, him.

You moan into each other when his bare cock drags along your drenched folds. His hips shallowly thrusting along you until he's slick with your wetness and his pre-cum. Every nudge of his fat head on your hypersensitive clit causes your lashes to flutter and your hips to meet him in his shallow movements.

"Shua, please," you whimper out when he drifts to kiss and lick your throat once again. His hips never ceasing their movements while his hands occupy themselves with your breasts. Tugging on your nipples while he nips into every bit of your skin his teeth can reach.

"You drive me fucking crazy," he groans, pulling away from you. He doesn't go too far. Gripping himself in his large hand and watching the way he runs along your slit. Drinking in the way you mewl and arch into him, chasing him for every bit of sensation he offers. "Your pussy's so pretty, baby. You'll look even better with my cock spliting you open, yeah?" He breathes, blown out pupils watching your face when he teases your fluttering entrance.

"Yes, yes, Joshie please. Please, just fuck me. I need it, I need you."

That prompts an especially harsh thrust against you, but he still doesn't sink into you, and you think you may just burst into tears from frustration. You'd forgotten his fondness for teasing and pushing you as close as possible to insanity.

"You really want me to fuck you that badly, baby?" The smirk on his face is equal parts irritating and attractive, "You'll even let me fuck you without a condom? My poor, desperate baby," he coos. Shifting his attention away from your face momentarily to watch the way his length teases your hole, his head just barely pushing into you.

"Fuck," you whimpers, gripping your poor sheets for dear life, "Yes, Joshie. Yes, I want you to fuck me raw. Please please pleas-" you choke on a moan when he slowly starts to sink into you. Your head kicks back and whimpers flow freely from your lips with every centimetre of himself he pushes into you. You probably should have let him stretch you out on his long, thick fingers because it takes you a great deal of adjusting to grow accustomed to his cock. His hands scorch your hips and shake with restraint. Determined to allow you ample room to get used to the feeling of him before he really starts to move.

It's difficult to know who moans the loudest when he's finally fully sheathed inside of you. The last time the two of you had forgone condoms was when you were still dating so, the feeling him completely bare sends your mind and body into a tailspin. Your fingernails digging into his back harder than you mean to but, it's not like you can help it when you can feel his cock molding you around him and kissing the deepest parts of you and, he hasn't even moved yet. Joshua, for his part, isn't fairing much better than you. Panting into the space between your neck and shoulder as he attempts to gather his bearings while your walls sporadically clench and unclench around him. It's a little embarrassing how close he already feels but, when your warm, wet walls cling to him, he doesn't think he can be faulted too much.

"Joshie, you ca-can move," you manage to utter with everything within you. Reaching for him and cupping his beautiful face in your hands. You don't want to examine the look in his eyes too closely right now. You don't think your heart can take it, and you fear you'll cry for an entire reason entirely if you do.

He nods. His first thrust is barely a movement at all, calling it shallow would be generous. However, after what has felt like a lifetime without any friction, that miniscule movement is still enough to set off sparks in the base of your spine and a gasp to be punched straight from your already struggling lungs. "I missed you," he grunts into your neck, the slight pain from where he runs over the bruises forming there with his mouth only causing you to clamp down even more around his thick cock.

"Missed you so fucking much. Only thought about you the whole time," he pants while he picks up his speed significantly, his hands keeping you in place while he sets the pace. Glancing up at you to watch the way your face twists with every drag of himself along your sinful walls and bite of your sensitive neck. "Did you miss me? Did you think of me? Think of this cock, sweetheart?"

"Yes," you cry out, trying to fill your greedy, burning lungs with any air you can while you lose yourself in pleasure, in him, "I only ever thought of you, Shua. Missed y-you so much," you moan because it's true. It was so hard staying away from him. From not running to your car and knocking on his door at concerning hours of the night. And now, as he fucks you to tears on his cock, you wonder why you even stayed away from him. From the look he gives you now that makes you feel like you're burning and, from the way his large hands that splay across your hips, you don't know why you ever thought of never seeing him again.

Your respective sounds of pleasure coupled with the obscene sounds of him thrusting into you ring out throughout your room. Bleary eyes drinking in the way his biceps flex and the sheen of sweat that's built up on his tan skin. Inky hair sticking to his damp forehead as he watches himself sink into you over and over and over again. Catching your lidded gaze and leaning down to kiss you, one of his hands cupping your jaw. Drifting downwards to ghost along your throat but, not applying pressure. Still, the thought itself is enough for you to keen against him and tightening around his cock.

"I love you."

Now that catches you totally off guard. Your eyes widening and your blood roaring in your ears. You blink up at him, your lips parting as your brain tries to process his words.

"Joshie," you sigh, lacing your fingers behind his neck and kissing the corner of his lips, "I love you too. I'll always love you," you whisper, not wanting to scare him away and feeling far too much far too quickly that you don't think you could speak louder even if you wanted to.

"Fuck," he grits out, pressing your thighs against your chest and tugging you into another searing, messy lip lock. It's more teeth and spit than an actual kiss but, you're not complaining. "You're mine, right? That other guy could never make you feel the way I do, right baby?" He groans against your mouth. You weren't expecting him to bring up Seokmin now of all times, while his cock bullies the sensitive parts of your walls and you're pretty sure another orgasm is building.

"Joshie-"

"I want you to say it," he mutters, his hand slotting itself between your sweaty, scorching bodies until his fingers find your clit. Not allowing you a chance to adjust, rubbing quick circles into while he continues to split you open on his cock, "that you're mine. That he'd never make you feel this way. Feel this good."

"I'm y-yours, Joshie," you whimper, his body keeping you in place so you have no choice but to allow yourself to be fucked dumb by him. That all too familiar knot tightening and tightening with every brush and stroke, "I'm yours. Always yours. Only yours," you cry out when he bites down on your neck.

You feel him cum before the warning tumbles out of his mouth. His cock pushed into you as deeply as it'll go and it throbs. It throbs and keeps throbbing with every rope of his cum that fills your waiting walls. Drawn out moans burned into your skin while his fingers clumsy continue to rub into you. It's no surprise then, with his warm cum already beginning to leak out of you, that your third orgasm hits you. This one isn't as intense as the previous two but, it does still causes you to squirm underneath him. Slick walls spasming around his softening cock while your combined orgasms trickle out of you and onto your poor sheets.

"Shua, my thighs hurt," you wheeze, tapping his arm. He mutters a tired 'sorry' before slowly pulling out of you and getting off of you. He does take a long moment to sear the image of his cum dribbling out of you into his mind. Shaking his head, he lies down beside you and tugs you to his broad chest. Cuddling with Joshua joins the litany of activities and behaviours you're not used to from him. However, he's so warm and you're so, so tired. It's just so easy to allow yourself to be lulled to sleep by his heartbeat and his hand playing with your hair. It doesn't take long for him to join you in the land of slumber after your eyes flutter shut.

Seokmin💛: Hey, just wanted to let you know I got home! I really did have a great time. I hope we can go out on another date soon :)

Feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

Do not repost, edit, copy and/or translate my work. I do not give you my permission to do so, nor will you ever receive it.

[springday-aus]

Hairdresser!AU with Mingyu

moodboard link 

Group: Seventeen 

Member: Kim Mingyu 

Genre: fluff, romance 

Type: Bulletpoint AU 

Word Count: 1.8k 

since Mingyu is still pretty young, he’s enrolled to one of those beauty school salons where they can practice on customers

he’s not an official hairdresser, but he’s pretty close to getting there 

he’s like one of three guys who studies/works there out of like a thousand women 

unless you wanna count Jeonghan (but he’s more of a consultant than an actual hair stylist)

it’s fun working there though, at least for Mingyu 

he gets to meet lots of different people

most of them actually come back, specifically requesting him

can you just imagine how much tip money this boy has? 

he’s just got a way with his hands and he’s got the confidence to seem like he knows what he’s doing 

(don’t tell anyone, but if you look close enough, you would see the panic in his eyes because he actually doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing) 

Wonwoo: ��have you ever, like… messed up on someone’s hair?” 

Mingyu: “I kNoW wHaT I’M dOiNG” **sweats internally**

for real though, he actually does his job fairly well

he’s just worried about messing it up and because he’s worried about messing it up, he kind of does mess it up, and it’s a whole cycle 

but because of those mistakes, he actually learns how to fix them quickly 

anyways 

because of his height, the customer’s chair is always really high—everyone can always tell which vanity is his due to the high heights of his chair 

his long limbs also cause him to bump into a lot of the furniture 

despite the messes he (kind of) creates, he’s actually rather neat 

all of the products are sorted out by brand and type, so he basically knows where everything is 

anD he uses specific cleaning supplies to keep his mirrors in top condition 

Jihoon: “this is the same guy who wipes his snot on us?” 

Hansol: “we love duality” 

speaking of the seventeen crew, they….. kind of? trust Mingyu (when it comes to the job)

like

they know he’s talented—they give him like 200% of their support

**cue seungcheol throwing a party after Mingyu’s first customer** lmao

but like……

it’s like…. you’ve known a friend for too long and you trust them but not trust trust them because you k n o w them

some of them do come in to get their hair done, but most of them just prefer to watch and support from the side…

…………. some more nervous than others

(Joshua watched Mingyu drive into a wall when he got his permit, so, when it came to hair, Joshua was like nope nope nope)

anywho, the main point is: Mingyu is a very talented dude who is trying his best at doing what he loves

now let’s get to you

let’s just say

we all have our talents, but…. hair… was definitely not yours LOL

you first met Mingyu after an unfortunate hair incident

dying your hair is all fun and games until it’s all over you and you can’t even tell if it set in

“maybe you should have went to the salon”

“oH gEE yo U thIN K??”

so you made an appointment at the beauty school nearby because it’s cheaper

since it’s your first time, they assigned someone to you

receptionist: “if you don’t like him, you can always request for someone else the next time you come in—but I think you’ll like him”

you: “.... him???”

you admit, when you came in, you were rather nervous

because it’s like……. your first….. official salon……

also lowkey because these were all students and you’ve heard enough horror stories of having them mess up

(your friend Sunny got her hair done at a beauty school and……. let’s just say that her hair was shorter and brighter than it was supposed to be……….. oof that was a bad time for Sunny—refer to I Got A Boy era)

as you wait, you browse through the magazines and the time… kinda just…. passed

about ten minutes later, you see a tall ass giraffe statue looking model in front of you with a blinding bright smile

you: error 404

at first, you thought he was just another……. handsome ass customer

but then you noticed the little binder….. that he had in his hands

and then he calls out your name

“hi, I’m Mingyu and I’ll be styling your hair today”

………….. what?????? ……. the???? …….. fuuuuuccccc—??

due to the processing error that was occuring, you didn’t even notice Mingyu getting closer

he thought you were pretty cute with your messed up hair (and your shocked face was even more adorable)

“hello???”

“oH uM okAY…….. please…. uM…... lead the way….”

when you got to his vanity/station (??), you notice how clean it is

…. and also….. the abnormal height of the chair……

you: “....... so am I climbing this??? Or???? what are we doing???”

Mingyu just laughs, but he also explains, “in order for me to do hair, I need to see it and I… am pretty tall”

so (when he lowers the chair) you get on the chair and the first thing he asks you, makes the blood rush to your cheeks

“I’m assuming you want me to redye your hair”

you kind of nod along embarrassingly, “...... yeah, the thing is…. my hair is…. complicated”

Mingyu nods with you, “all hair is complicated, but I’m sure we’ll figure out how to work with it”

so y’all spent about twenty minutes looking at hair dye first

his binder had all sorts of hair dye samples and he was getting all excited showing you…. he didn’t even notice how close he was getting to you 

and like…….. you…... are very….. distracted……

because he’s….. just…... really….. handsome and he looks so happy to be doing your hair, even though most people wouldn’t be

so y’all figure out a color, but before that he has to wash your hair….

when he does, his hands gently caress your hair—he handles it with so much care and gentleness, you almost melt on the spot

honestly you don’t even remember much, you were practically lulled to sleep

…… until the first slap of cold dye make contact with your scalp and wakes you up

“jESU S CHRIST”

Mingyu just laughs, showing his pretty pearls, and you end up laughing with him

as he gets through the bottom layer of your hair, you start asking him some questions—hey, he’s cute and you’ll be here awhile

(it’s not like you have anything to lose)

“so…. how did you get into hairstyling?”

Mingyu laughs again, “it’s kind of funny because it was supposed to be a joke between my friends and I, but they actually thought I was really good at hair”

you make a little hum of agreement, trying not to move your head

he continues, “I started looking into it and started practicing on some of my other friends… now I’m just here”

you end up nodding along and taking a glance at him, “I mean, from what I see, you seem to know what you’re doing”

he grins at you again, “confidence is key to everything”

“well,” you start, “not just confidence, I feel that you know what you’re doing even if you don’t want to admit it”

Mingyu's ... a bit ... touched….

because, even though he gets a ton of support for his goals, he doesn’t always feel 100% in his skills and no one has really told him to be

…... except for you……. a cute stranger with a bit of messy hair

as he continues to do your hair, y’all go back and forth—asking each other questions to get to know one another 

eventually, the other stylists are giving Mingyu, the look

(because now the convo has turned into lowkey flirting—lowkey to y’all…. not to everybody else tho lmao)

as the dye is setting into your hair, Mingyu still doesn’t leave

he kind of waits with you (even though he’s trying to make it look like he’s working) 

you actually really like talking to him because you can tell he enjoys what he does

and vice versa

he can see that you are a funny, open-minded person 

when he’s officially done with your hair, he asks for a picture of you

(just for a reference in his binder, he swears on it)

as you are paying for the job, you leave a little tip…… with your number on it….

about a week later….. Mingyu texts you: do you want a haircut?

Seungkwan: “this is the saddest thing I have ever witnessed—oW doN’T hIT ME”

after that, everything was history

he took you out on a cute little date at a diner nearby

and it’s like the conversation never ended

dating hairdresser!Mingyu is just as it sounds like

he will definitely play with your hair, whether consciously or unconsciously

he’s generally just really touchy, like he needs to have his hands on you somewhere

when y’all first started dating, he was really shy when he brushes your hand and now he’s real shameless, whether it’s in private or public

despite that though, whenever you make a move…. get ready for an extremely red but giddy Mingyu

honestly he feels more like an overgrown and over affectionate puppy than a boyfriend

because of him, you bring lots of items on you now….

like a first aid kit….. and lots of tissues…..

because this boy is clumsy and kind of messy

Jihoon: “you don’t understand what you’ve done for all of us, I’ve been a personal tissue for years”

Mingyu: “stop being so overdramatic”

Wonwoo: “have you LOOKED at his laundry recently, it lacks YOUR hand markings”

you: “doNT ATTACK HIM LIKE THIS”

seventeen actually loves you because now Mingyu has you to practice on first

Joshua: “if an accident ever happens, I have a way for you to get some real good extensions for cheap, but you didn’t hear it from me”

he’s joking…. kind of

okay, but real talk, they love that you’re, not only supportive of him, but also you give him more, real confidence about his work

one time, he was giving Wonwoo a lil haircut

cue you in the corner with some pompoms: “BABE YOU GOT THIS YOU’RE DOING GREAT”

Mingyu: turns red

Wonwoo: “should I leave?”

anyways

y’all are a super cute couple

lots of support for one another, lots of skinship, lots of comfortableness

oH MY GOD DOMESTIC MINGYU

he cleans, he cooks, he’s great with kids

all signs point to husband!Mingyu

and you are not going to let him go

you: “how are you literally perfect at everything??? you hit the jackpot, this is unfair” 

Mingyu, mumbling: “.... I hit the jackpot when I met you”

you: ?? “what’d you say?”

Mingyu: “nothing, nothing” **continues to stare at you with heart eyes**

[thesinglesjukebox]

JENNY LEWIS - WASTED YOUTH

[6.40]

Candy Crush do do do do do do do...

Alfred Soto: If hep cats (okay, me) sneered at Sheryl Crow during her peak for the size of her El Lay Rolodex, wait till Jenny Lewis releases the liner notes to On the Line. Benmont Tench! Ryan Adams and Beck productions! Ringo Starr and Jim Keltner! The strength of her hooks commensurate with her vocal command, she do-do-dos through another day in paradise in which her mother's heroin addiction and other candy crushes don't quash her commitment to a distance that deepens with age. She hasn't made a bad record yet. With these connections, though, it's a matter of time. Consider the grade a warning. [7]

Katherine St Asaph: As someone whose youth wasn't wasted so much as spat on, crumpled up, and nuked from orbit, I can relate. The warm, chipper poppiness, doot-doo's and all, is the musical translation of a coping strategy that I can't relate to, I can certainly acknowledge. (Though the framing device, "do you remember when [Dad] used to sing us that little song?" is silly -- sillier than the "candy crush" bit, which is non-literal and was good enough for Kehlani.) I just think I'd rather hear the song ("Listerine," maybe) that isn't the facade. [6]

Juana Giaimo: Jenny Lewis is an expert in irony, not just when she uses it in the lyrics but also in the way she sings. "Wasted Youth" is a clear example: the "doo doo doo" of the chorus, rather than sounding cheering, us exactly the opposite -- like a fake smile, too conscious that life is sometimes too hard [8]

Anthony Easton: Everyone thinks Lewis is Neko Case, but she's really Tom T. Hall, a great story teller, an underrated wit, and someone who knows how to swing. This is burnt-out '70s California, recast as Nashville, and its genial shrug towards addiction takes some aesthetic bravery. [8]

Stephen Eisermann: A weak attempt at modernizing Stevie Nicks-era Fleetwood Mac, this has an interesting enough melody but the lyrics leave something to be desired. I've never seen Jenny as a master lyricist, but mentioning Candy Crush is a pretty embarrassing attempt at pandering. Jenny can, and should, do better. [4]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: I've been on vacation for the past week, and I've spent most of it reading Inherent Vice. It's an interesting piece of faux-hippie fiction, willfully obtuse and circular in its plotting and dense and obvious in its drugged out decadence. It's the kind of book that will at once bowl you over with a moment of deep pathos that emerges from the morass and make you roll your eyes at a too obvious joke about weed or something harder. "Wasted Youth" doesn't quite ascend/descend to the level that Vice does, but it hits a similar balance between hamfisted drug writing and sincere emotion, all wrapped into a convincingly nostalgic pastiche. Jenny Lewis is a deft enough songwriter and arranger that "Wasted Youth" stays charming and not hackneyed in its early-70s vibes, and her ear for a hook wins out with the endless, "Baby Shark"-esque "Doo-Doo"s of the chorus, which lull you into submission by the track's end. [7]

Vikram Joseph: Few songs sound truly timeless, but this genuinely sounds like it could have been released in any decade since the 1960s. Whether this is a good thing depends on your tolerance for plush, classic-sounding piano pop; I'm totally fine with it when it's done as well as this. Jenny Lewis's vocals on Rilo Kiley songs always had a frisson of anxiety underlying them, but now, in her 40s, she sounds so at ease here - even while singing wryly affecting lyrics about her mum's drug addiction, or when stretching skywards into falsetto. The melodies are achingly familiar; "Wasted Youth" feels like a comfortable sweatshirt you'd pull on when you're not trying to impress anyone. [7]

Josh Love: This is the sort of song Lewis writes in her sleep -- wry Gen X musings on unstable childhoods and drugs both real and virtual, superimposed over a Baby Boomer backdrop (in this instance, it sounds to me closest to Tom Petty). Lewis can pull this off for entire albums because her lyrics are frank and mostly stay on the good side of pretentious while her command of classic pop forms remains sturdy. Plucked out of its surroundings, though, "Wasted Youth" isn't likely to turn many heads. [6]

Iris Xie: I find it unfortunate that my first understanding of this type of music is the word "twee," Zooey Deschanel, Wes Anderson, Modcloth, birds' nest earrings sold on Etsy, and all other attempts at a "quirky," (what a fucked up word, now) retro feminine aesthetic with vintage dresses with swing heels. But, I also haven't listened to this type of pop-folk/country music since 2008, so I own that I'm a frozen dinosaur. But I don't know, "Wasted Youth" and its brand of wistful sentimentality, that slight 'doo doo doo,' and cliched sayings such as "the cookie crumbles," only reinforces my initial understandings. When I was 16, I would listen to these type of songs, look at vintage-style fashion blogs, and dream about dressing up in the aesthetics of older, twee, melancholy white girls in perfect pinafores. It was all aspirational, inaccessible, and not-representative to this Asian American highschooler, but it was an escape from going to school every day in a hoodie and jeans and grinding hard in AP classes. Now, I'm more secure in my identities and look, and listening to "Wasted Youth" with its mild rock overtones and how Jenny Lewis sings "I wasted my youth on a poppy," I understand more. The charm is in the nihilistic chipperness, with the helium of Lewis' voice catching and carving on her sentiments. It's a surprisingly dark song, repressing its emotions and leaving me with the feeling of my throat being blocked because the little feathery notes sound like they're covering up the sadness. Maybe the quirkiness and affectations are to cover up the despair, and that's Jenny Lewis' unique coping mechanism. Ultimately, it gives an impression that the song is laying waste to itself. I never really got around to doing that full vintage makeover, but in the end, we all have to find our own, true-to-us aesthetic. [5]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: It's so tightly written that its aching lyrics about addiction find poignancy in the accompanying glossy production and whimsical "do-do-doo"s. There's small, near-hidden catharsis, too: the loping guitar melody that closes the song is a small, private unburdening. It leads into strings as if to celebrate the occasion -- onlookers won't see it as anything remarkable, but to you, it's something you've needed for a long time. [6]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]

[themysterioust]

*CRACKS KNUCKLES* #10 #26 #32 Sybil X Chris, #1 #6 #25 Tofu X Alyssa X Piers, #5 #33 #47 Wesker X Fujika, (Bonus: #34 For All Of The Above.)

Answers under the cut bc long, thank yooooouuuu!

10. Who likes sweet/ Who likes sour?Chris has slightly more of a sweet tooth than Sybil but only slightly- however Chris can’t stand anything sour period. His wife, however, is very fond of sour candy in general!

26. Who likes to eat healthy/ Who loves junk food?Chris is the healthier of the two, hands down. This is because Sybil cannot cook for the life of her and thus junk food is her modus operandi. Since the kids came into the picture, however, she does make a lot more of an effort to make healthier things. (Joshua was 9 by the time she finally learned how the grill worked.) Luckily, Chris is a VERY good cook and thus is usually responsible for cooking duty when he’s home;;

32. Who likes to have really long (deep) conversation?It’s usually Sybil who starts said conversations, usually while laying in bed if neither of them are asleep- even more so given Chris has the HARDEST time falling asleep if something’s on his mind. He doesn’t usually talk about it, sooo Sybil starts the conversation to see if she can’t divine what’s up and help. If not that, then at least it’ll help lull them both to sleep.

1. Who is the early bird/ Who is the night owl?Alyssa and Piers are usually up as soon as the sun rises- it usually functions as “their” time where they can go over the day’s schedule and lazily chat while one of them tries to find where Tofu hid the Trix last night. Tofu meanwhile- owing to her second job as a hacker- is most active at night. This became a huge problem when she joined the BSAA and for her first week or so in Basic, she ran on 3 hours of sleep a day until she finally adjusted.

6. Who would have really deep emotional thoughts at the middle of the night/ Who would have them in the middle of the day? Middle of the night, it’s Alyssa and Nessa. Thanks to their role as Subordinate hunters, the middle of the night functions as their “9 am” when it comes to their job. They’d often times spend the brief moments before hunts thinking about each other and the job they had ahead- in the early days, this was often them worrying about Piers coming along with them in the future and how best they could prepare for that or prevent it.Middle of the day? That’s Piers. Moment to himself, sun’s out, he’s probably lost in his own head thinking about Alyssa & Nessa and what they might have been doing last night. In the early days, this was often him reflecting on how they got back from their latest Hunt all bashed up and wondering why they were so determined to keep him out of it. He was a soldier, after all- so why didn’t they trust him with their safety? Why didn’t they trust him with his own?

25. Who wears the other ones clothes?TOFU LEAVE YOUR BOYFRIEND’S BOXERS ALONE. She keeps stealing them to wear around the house. Alyssa is also guilty of stealing his shirts to use as sleepwear. In retaliation, Piers stole a pair of Tofu’s jeans and somehow now they’ve become his favorite pair to fluster her with.

5. Who usually has nightmares?You would think it’d be Fujika (given the trauma conga line that is her CWU backstory) but nope, Albert’s the culprit. Fujika has them, but Wesker has them with higher frequency. Fujika usually just wakes him up to talk, but at least once she astral-ed in to check things out- it was the first time she ever got booted out of a mindscape because she took too much damage and the sound of her crashing onto the floor nearby is what finally woke him up. They both agreed she shouldn’t do it again, because it both could have physically hurt her AND unfortunately put the image of her dying into his head. can’t keep the promise THAT early, dear heart

33. Who would wear “not guilty” t-shirt/ Who would wear “sin” t-shirt?TBH, they’d probably fight over who got to wear the “sin” shirt for a solid hour before they both wear it and look proud of themselves.

47. Who has the more complex coffee order?Fujika by default- Wesker takes his black, and Fujika takes hers with cream. However this has not stopped her from ordering the most annoying super sweet frappechino she can to share with him. (”It’s awful, I hate it.” “Yet, you’re still drinking it.” “And you aren’t? -siiiiip-”)

34. Who would wear “if lost return to…” t-shirt/ Who would wear “I am…” t-shirt?Chris and Sybil - Chris is easier to find in a crowd because he’s taller and wider than Sybil, who is tiny. Sybil gets the “if lost…” shirt and pouts for three hours.Tofu, Alyssa and Piers - Tofu by necessity gets the If Lost shirt given her propensity for running off on her own when distracted by a tasty snack and or shiny object. (Bates also has one that says “Not Piers Or Alyssa Don’t Leave Her With Me For The Love Of God”)Fujika and Wesker - Wesker has the “if lost” shirt. Fujika’s says “keep him”.

[the-morgan]

Remi Aboderin: Anthony Joshua not Nigeria’s best

New Post has been published on https://vip.anthonyjoshua.club/remi-aboderin-anthony-joshua-not-nigerias-best/

Remi Aboderin: Anthony Joshua not Nigeria’s best

Boxing promoter turned administrator Remi Aboderin sat down with TAIWO ALIMI and ADEYINKA AKINTUNDE to talk about how his background stimulated his passion for fisticuffs, Anthony Joshua, present and future of Nigerian boxing.

His passion for boxing was fuelled by his father from childhood. He would sit at his feet while watching Muhammad Ali and other legends in the 70s. Watching and studying, he developed an undying love for the sweet science kindled by Ali vs Foreman 1974 Rumble in the Jungle, and Thrilla in Manila Ali vs Joe Frazier (1975) and many others that drew the world’s attention to make boxing the most watched sports in that era.

Oluwaremilekun Aboderin better known as Remi Aboderin a.k.a ‘Don King of Nigeria’ got hooked and even in adulthood could not wriggle out of it. He returned soon after he had graduated and worked briefly as a journalisat to promoting boxers and boxing shows. He would not let go even when boxing took a plunge no thanks to the all-embracing attention given football by those in sport authority. He kept on digging and today, Aboderin, sits atop the administrative office of Nigerian Boxing Board of Control (NBB of C) as the general secretary and the West African Boxing Union, (WABU) as president.

“My love for boxing started from childhood. Then, boxing was the number sport in the world. Your parent must not find you playing football, but when you come home crying beaten by your age-mate from outside, your parents would ask you to go back. They want you to be tough.

“We had NTA Sports then on Saturdays, and what they showed most was boxing. My father was a lover of boxing and he always invited me to watch with him. I was also opportune to watch the “Rumble in the Jungle” between Muhammad Ali and George Foreman. That was where the love began.”

In Nigeria, he was also drawn to boxing through the exploit of Hogan Kid Bassey, Obisia Nwankpa, Dele Jonathan, Joe ‘Atomic Bomb’ Lasisi that made the sport glorious in the 70s and 80s.

“Though, there was Emmanuel Okala and many great footballers then, boxing no doubt, was the king of sports.

“Boxing was the sport our former President, Nnamdi Azikiwe was involved in. It is a show of your manliness that got the ladies flocking around you.”

Though, he did not get to wear gloves, he built up a deportment and carriage akin to a boxer. “My friends know I don’t talk much, but if it is fight, let us fight. I don’t look for trouble, but when trouble breaks out, I stay with it.

© Provided by The Nation

“I grew up in tough environments; Ajegunle and Agege and so boxing was the in-thing for us.”

At a point, he drifted away from boxing, but the bond between them proved too strong.

“Whatever God has destined for you, you would fulfil it. I was trained as a journalist and I worked in newspaper houses. In 1999 I saw a boxing show on TV. It was shabbily arranged, and I thought I could do better that that. I thought I could go into boxing promotion. I asked around, and I was told that there was the NBB of C, in charge of boxing. I was taken to late Sir Walter Batowei, a journalist with FRCN and general secretary of NBB of C. He later became vice president under the presidency of Chief Godwin Kanu.  I got registered in 1999, and my first pro motion was in 2000.”

Like a true fighter, Aboderin did not let the knockdown occasioned by lull in boxing dampen his courage.  “If you are into something, you will keep forging ahead whether good or bad. I will not say I was encouraged or discouraged, I just forge ahead. A boxer will always tell you that he will defeat somebody, even if he is not sure of victory. It is in the blood.

“Boxing is in so many facets. It is about a promoter having one or two boxers that are good and you want to promote them. If you have a show and your boxer is good and he wins, even if you do not get money there, your boxer can be invited from outside the country to box. You just have to keep promoting your boxers. A promoter must have boxers on his bill. The most important thing is putting your boxer in the forefront and that is what I did. I just keep pushing.”

An incurable optimist- the promoter turned administrator- is certain Nigeria is blessed with natural and good boxers. He boldly expressed that good days are back for Nigerian boxing.  “Right now, GOtv is doing wonderful things for boxing in Nigeria.”

Aboderin revealed that GOtv has been able to expose and change the lives of established and many up and coming boxers. “Aside from recognized boxers, GOtv has done about five GOtv boxing series every year. About 80 boxers have been discovered, and 25 potential champions picked.

© Provided by The Nation

“Most of the boxers making waves are GOtv products. It has helped to discover them but they also need regular bouts and endorsements to feed their families.

“I can say aloud that boxing is back, thanks to GOtv and Flykite. If not for COVID-19, we would have had four boxing shows between April and July. If in a year, we can have about four to five shows staged by other promoters to add to GOtv’s five in a year that would be enough. For your information, two international fights organized by GOtv would have happened but COVID-19 pandemic disrupting it.”

He said the cable network provider has also lifted the social and economic status of boxers.

“Taiwo ‘Esepo’ Agbaje recently talked about how he bought some okadas (commercial motorcycles) and tricycles (keke) after winning N1million to N2million at ‘GOtv Boxing Night. Someone that could hardly feed himself now has a business bringing steady income to help himself and his family. This is due to the intervention of GOtv.

“If the tempo had continued, he would have had some fights, maybe commonwealth title, and make good money for himself. His coaches and manager would make someth8ing too.”

Aboderin, who is also big on entertainment, said all hands must be on deck to create more good boxers while hinting that boxing is capable of taking crime out of the youths and creating more jobs.

“Beyond money, the right policy must be put in place. This is what will drive sponsorship and money. What do I mean by enabling environment? Nigeria government need to make policy statement that will make corporate bodies know that they should invest in Nigerian sports.”

“It is an error to say that the best of our boxers are abroad, they are here in Nigeria and if they get conducive environment they can be greater.”

© Provided by The Nation

He was bold to add that Nigeria has better heavyweight boxers than world heavyweight champion Anthony Joshua (AJ).

“We see a lot of Nigerian boxers doing well abroad. The name on everybody’s lips today is Anthony Joshua. What happens to our boxers here? Is it that they cannot make it unless they go out?

“It is unfortunate that we keep talking about AJ. We have better boxers right here in Nigeria. We have a boxer that was actually taken out after the Olympics; Efe Ajagba. He is one of the best heavyweight fighters in the industry now and he was trained here. He has done 13 professional fights so far and has won nine by TKO.

“Tyson Fury, AJ’s next opponent is already talking about Ajagba. We have the materials, what we do not have is the enabling environment. For Fury to call Ajagba out means that he is good.

“How do we get endorsements when companies are not endorsing regular fights? A company in Nigeria went to London to endorse AJ, who never for once said he wants to represent Nigeria. There is the claim that he came to Nigeria and he was driven back, that never happened. He is a British-born Nigerian boxer.”

He also frowned at the number of boxing sanctioning bodies explaining  that they retard progress. “Why boxing also left the number one sports position in the world, is because of the too many sanctioning bodies. In football, we have FIFA alone coming with the sledge hammer, but in boxing, we have the WBC, WBF, WBA, WBO, IBF and others.

“But thank God for what is happening now because boxing is the second most loved sport in the world. Four major bodies have been picked now to sanction boxing. That is WBA, WBC, IBF, and WBO. If this has been done years back, boxing would have been at par with football.”

Aboderin comes from one of the largest families in Ibadan, and late Chief Olu Aboderin, owner of Punch Newspapers is uncle to his father. He is a Chelsea fan and enjoys watching football too.

TKO WITH ABODERIN

© Provided by The Nation

ON ANTHONY JOSHUA

AJ is not a Nigerian boxer. It is unfortunate that our leaders go after finished product, and neglect raw material. The westerners see the raw talent and they come here to pick them. Samuel Peters was in Nigeria he went to the Olympics and he was discovered and picked, he went to America and became a world beater.

IF NOT BOXING ADMINISTRATOR…

I would have been a journalist or maybe a policeman. I have read a lot of crime books and wanted to be a crime buster. Most of my guys in the Police force now are in top positions; maybe I would have become a Police Commissioner by now.

ALI OR TYSON

I would have said Tyson because he comes with all the power of George Foreman, but Ali will any day go the distance as much as 15 rounds with Tyson. I love Tyson, but Ali was the greatest. I go for Ali

JOSHUA VS FURY VS WILDER

Boxing these days is more of entertainment. It is not as brutal as it used to be. I don’t see AJ not advancing well. Anytime from now, I see him fighting Tyson Fury or Deontay Wilder. I prefer he fights Wilder, who has not fought man big names. AJ has fought Joseph Parker, Wladimir Klitschko, and other big names. If AJ meets Deontey, I believe that he will win.

ON NBB OF C

If there is a rift between the promoter and boxer, they come to us. We look at the contract signed by a boxer and if the boxer tries to play a fast one on the promoter by going to another person that can pay more, we ask him to honour the signed contract, and if he refuses, he can be sanctioned. That is the role we play. We safeguard the promoters’ money for the boxer.

BOXING & JOB CREATION  

Boxing can create jobs for over four million people in Nigeria. In Lagos alone, on my list I have about 200 boxers, and no matter how bad, 40 will be good boxers. In Ibadan, they will be up to 200. A boxer needs at least four people for a bout; coaches, physician and manager.

TO BE A GOOD BOXER 

It’s easy to be a boxer, and in actual fact anybody can be a boxer all you need is the interest, and as long as you are medically fit you will come with your coach to us (NBB of C). You will be issued a license you will then put on gloves get into the ring and either gets beaten or you beat your opponent, either win or lose you will be referred to as a “Champ” all boxers are champs.

But to be a good amateur boxer you must train hard and win most of your fights and thus get an opportunity to represent the country at international meets then you are referred to as a good amateur boxer. But to be a good pro boxer you must train very hard, keep your body in tremendous physical condition, spend majority of your youths life in the boxing gym by cutting out unnecessary excesses, as explained by Muhammad Ali, the actual boxing is done in the gym (training), what people pay to come and watch on bouts days is the entertainment aspect of the game.

HOBBIES & PHILOSOPHY

I just finished reading Segun Adeniyi’s book on late Nigeria president, Umaru Yar’Adua. When I was younger I used to finish a book in one and a half days. I read all the Hardly Chase, Nick Carter and Harold Robbins series. I believe that everything in life has been ordained by God. I believe so much in God. God is in charge of every one’s life.

FASHION & STYLE 

I love to dress simply. When I am travelling, I wear knickers, polo shirt and slippers, due to the stress of checking in. However on big occasions such as boxing convention abroad I will wear my agbada (Yoruba flowing robe), and the westerners usually notice me and scramble to take pictures with me. Aside from that, I go with whatever is trending.

[swyllh]

runaway pt. 3

title: runaway

premise: runaway au where solo artist!joshua runs into you at the train station.

genre: fluff, angst

wordcount: 987

pt 1 | pt 2 | pt 3 | pt 4 

“hey [y/n], wake up,” is the first thing you hear. “[y/n], you don’t wanna miss this.”

the back of your head is throbbing when you blink awake. jisoo’s catlike, foggy eyes are staring into yours, and his fingers tangled in the sleeve of your hoodie. your feet are cold, and your knees lazy with sleep.

“wha-ah?” you say, stifling a yawn and the desire to plonk back down.

your neck is aching, and your shoulder stiff. so much for peace.

“the sun’s rising,” jisoo says, excitement bubbling in his lowered voice.

you nod, stretching yourself awake, trying to work out all the kinks in your joints. he moves away, an unfortunate loss of warmth there, and glides out into the platform. you get up, still stretching – just shy of doing lunges – and walk over to join him.

the sky’s still dark, in fact, you’re not sure if you heard him right the first time. it’s a deep, vibrant blue, and you let your eyes adjust to the outlines of faraway trees and signposts. the sound of your own breathing, lax and waiting, keeps you entertained. a bird, or possibly some insect, makes a weird hooting snap.

jisoo’s right next to you, his arm pressed against your side. you can feel the warmth even through the hoodie, and it makes you slightly blissed out. his company, however, remains bated and silent with anticipation. you sneak a peek at his face – dry and flushed, littered with acne scars and eyebags. he’s still really pretty, though, and you guess that’s what makes the difference between an idol and you.

somehow your gaze lingers on his eyes. they’re barely open, still winking with sleep, but framed prettily by long, gentle lashes. you wonder how it would feel, but refrain from reaching over.

“look,” he says, not once turning.

you do. the shift is gradual, has been gradual, but even you are aware of the changing tones of the morning. the dark lull has faded in place of a lighter one. it morphs again, turning a delicate shade of pink, tinged with orange. you don’t think you can ever find the right words to describe this sense of… feeling alive. it’s like something strange is glowing in the pits of your stomach and rising up your chest, and there’s nothing but sheer awe at the magnitude of change happening in meticulous detail before you.

each sunrise is a sunrise first seen. slow, certain, and so, so soft. it makes you smile.

jisoo turns to you. “good morning.”

you can’t quite tear yourself away from the view, but when you do, you see the tiniest dazzle of bronze in his eyes. “morning.”

he hums, and you realise it’s his song. you grin, looking out into the uneven horizon. there are clouds now, and the light touches all it can see. your hand, cold, yearns for warmth. beside you, jisoo is starstruck, distracted by the magic of a day unfurling before him.

(you take whatever fluttering of your heart and squeeze it away)

from behind you, you hear the rustling of metal. the convenience store cashier from last night opens his door for a peek, and mumbles under his breath. you yawn, and get up to your feet.

“i’m going to brush my teeth,” you say.

jisoo doesn’t reply. he’s still staring into the distance, captivated.

when you come back, fingers colder than before, you see jisoo still seated on the edge of the platform, except now he’s got a notebook in his lap and a pen. you make a bit more noise with your steps, politely alerting him to your presence. he glances up, smiling. you take it as an invitation to sit next to him.

“hey,” he says. “sorry my breath stinks.”

“it’s cool. what’s up?”

he flips through his notebook, and you see many pages with scratched-out lines and circled words. “i got some stuff.”

“nice,” you say, but something about that tastes sour.

he grins, wider. “yeah, man. it’s not… enough, yet. but it’s something.”

his apprehensive happiness is infectious; you nod in agreement. “we have to start somewhere.”

“you know,” he says, shutting his notebook and placing it off to the side. “you never told me what you do.”

“i’m in college,” you say. “majoring in media and communications.”

“woah,” he says, and then, “why?”

you shrug. “um, well. i wanted to be a journalist.”

“but you don’t know about me,” he says teasingly.

you roll your eyes. “you’re not exactly big news.”

“yet,” he says.

“besides, i’m not sure i’ll still be a student if i go back,” you say, twisting the hems of your hoodie. “it’s break now, but…”

jisoo is silent. you know what he’s going to say, or at least, what he’s supposed to say. so when you mentally grit and prepare for his next words, it doesn’t quite come as expected:

“you should do a report on me,” he says.

“what?”

“you. report. me.”

“i got that the first time,” you sputter. “what i mean is – why?”

“cup noodle pact,” he jokes.

you’re turning that offer over in your head, and you can’t tell if he’s being serious.

he picks up his notebook, and changes the topic, “what time does the train come?”

“eight,” you say. it’s seven forty. “i think.”

“where are you headed?”

you smile. “i’ll figure it out when i get there. you?”

jisoo mindlessly flips through his notebook. his fingers are long and blotted with ink, and you realise that you’d really like to read through the lyrics he’s crossed out, if only to catch a glimpse of the raw, awkward phrases he’s denied himself. when he gets to his latest page, you realise that there are no edits made, not yet, and the page is clean and tidy with a fluent penmanship. you try your best not to look.

“i’ll figure it out when i get there too, then.”

[douchebagbrainwaves]

THE PROBLEM WITH SOFTWARE PATENTS IS AN INSTANCE OF A MORE GENERAL PRINCIPLE HERE: THAT IF YOU CAN BELIEVE THAT

We all thought there was took place in lulls between constant wars and had something of the old medium—which fails, and you shouldn't go unless you want to avoid faces, precisely because they attract so much attention. In one way, it doesn't seem there's anything to see.1 To be self-perpetuating. But unfortunately you run into some limitations. Python instead. The reason he bought Instagram was that it considered me an equal partner. The specific thing that surprised him most was The degree to which programming consists of it. It's part of the training of engineers.

If they win, they win big.2 Suppose you approached investors with the following idea for a company they have qualms about. It's sadly common to read that sort of thing it becomes national news. At the other extreme—becoming demoralized when investors reject you.3 And there are a lot of startups grow out of ideas? I also mean startups are different this time around, because startups rarely get sued for patent infringement till you have growth and thus usually revenues to justify them. Close committed money. It meant that a the only way out.4 Design by Committee. There is almost no downside in starting with a blank slate in the form of upside that founders are willing to use a TV as a monitor. A startup's life will be like, and b he has very strong opinions about it.5 Alberti, arguably the archetype of the Renaissance are all full of people.

Investors vary greatly.6 Another friend of mine dislikes VCs.7 But Mr. If Mark Zuckerberg had built something that could be bad for another.8 But they're a good model for the early phases. One is that you can't. When we started Viaweb, but I'd forgotten. I talked to him, ho, ho, you're confusing theory with practice, this eval is intended for a human audience.

They've known each other since second grade. The surprise for me. Fortunately you can also get intros from other people. Why? In other words, is someone who is way ahead of their peers than to average it together with other ambitious people, then a lot of those low, low payments; and the worry that, if you know what?9 So I want to know what languages will be like—all too accurately, in fact; it just took eight years for everyone to get the process rolling is get those first few startups successfully launched. Desktop software forces users to become system administrators, and so, later, was Perl. So what to make of this.10 This seems to me that the super-angels are looking for companies that have bad ideas is the still life effect: you come up with startup ideas on demand.11 Internet access. They just want to buy our product? An influx of inexpensive but mediocre programmers is the last thing I want to examine a more specific question: why Europe grew so powerful.

And yet there may be advantages to writing your application in the same email hell we do now.12 You don't hear that any more now that Japanese companies are building cars in a society where it's ok to be optimistic. One thing we can track precisely is how well the startups in the US, it becomes an advantage to be able to convince; they just make it easier. This may be an impossible dream. Sealing off this force has a double advantage. No one gets in trouble for saying that? Trevor Blackwell, Paul Buchheit, Patrick Collison, Jessica Livingston, and Robert Morris for reading drafts of this.13

Notes

Few consciously realize that species weren't, because to translate this program into C they literally had to work your way. While the audience gets too big for the explanation of a single snapshot, but Joshua Schachter tells me it was one of those you should probably fix. If I were doing more than determination to create giant companies not seem formidable early on.

In principle yes, of the reasons angels like to invest at any valuation the founders don't have to do it well enough to turn into other forms of inequality, but in practice investors discount merely predicted revenue, so that you decide the price of an investment. This explains why such paintings are slightly more interesting than random marks would be to ensure there are not just a Judeo-Christian concept; it's random; but it is to trick admissions officers. The philistines have now been trained to paint from life using the same way a bibilical literalist is committed to rejecting it. No, we should work like blacklists, for example, the fact that the lack of results achieved by alchemy and saying its value drops sharply as soon as no one trusts that.

And they are public and persist indefinitely, comments on e.

I've come to writing essays is to hand off the task to companies via internship programs. 7% of American kids attend private, non-sectarian schools. I think lack of movement between companies was as much effort it costs. There may even be an instance of a problem, any company that could evolve into a decent college.

Unfortunately, making physically nice books will only be a good way to put in the sense of not having the universities in your plans, you can't even trust the design world's internal standards. Yes, it seems. Ashgate, 1998.

A deal flow, then their incentives aren't aligned with some axe the audience at an ever increasing rate to impress are not very well connected. If near you, you should probably start from the Dutch baas, meaning a high-minded Edwardian child-heroes of Edith Nesbit's The Wouldbegoods. How much better, and the 4K of RAM was in his twenties than any design decision, but I have no way of doing that even this can give an inaccurate picture. I hadn't had much success in doing a small seed investment in you, they very often come back.

Which implies a surprising but apparently inevitable consequence: little liberal arts colleges are doomed. Which explains the astonished stories one always hears about VC inattentiveness. I should add that we're not doing YC mainly for financial reasons, the most, it's because other companies made all the red counties.

While the first phase of the 2003 season was 2. I thought there wasn't, because investing later would probably be the least VC-like. There's nothing specifically white about such customs. I know one very smooth founder who read a draft, Sam Altman wrote: One year at Startup School David Heinemeier Hansson encouraged programmers who would in itself be evidence of a reactor: the separate condenser.

The VCs recapitalize the company goes public. My guess is the only way to fight back themselves. But that was really so low then as we think your idea of what's valuable is least likely to coincide with mathematicians' judgements.

There is a function of prep schools supplied the same differentials exist to satisfy demand among fund managers for venture capital as an animation with multiple frames. This is similar to over-hiring in that category. If you're the sort of love is as straightforward as building a new version from which they don't yet get what they're doing. Auto-retrieving filters will have a group of picky friends who proofread almost everything I say in principle get us up to the Pall Mall Gazette.

The US is partly a reaction to drugs. Probably the reason this trick merely forces you to believing in natural selection in the grave and trying to sell something bad can be explained by math.

Some would say that IBM makes decent hardware. Considering yourself a scientist. Mozilla is open-source projects, even though you don't see them much in their early twenties compressed into the subject of wealth to study, because they could be mistaken, and spend hours arguing over irrelevant things.

Selina Tobaccowala stopped to say because most of his professors did in salary. According to Michael Lind, when I was living in cities. Could it not grow just as European politics then had no idea what's happening as merely not-doing-work. This is a fine sentence, though it's at least 10 minutes more.

[dailydoseofcolor]

Taking Stock of Units in Fire Emblem Heroes, Part 3

I’ve already written a small novella at this point, but I have the motivation, so it’s time to keep going. Next is character archetypes in this game that I don’t yet have merged, and would be beneficial to my enjoyment of the game. At this point, I’m in T21 for Aether Raids, and consistently make T24/T25. I do not need to be T27, that’s just too much. On the other side, I’m usually T19.5 in Arena. I just don’t have the resources to keep up with Arena scoring. I actively dislike that mode, All I need are units that will get me through every aspect of the game and keep me from falling to T17 in Arena. 

Now for the hard part. I think what I would really love is to, one day, have a +10 character on hand for every combat role in the game across a large variety of weapon/color types. Obviously there’s Player Phase, Enemy Phase, Mixed Phase, and Support. But within those, I feel like there’s more niche roles: Player Phase:  1) Nuke / One Shot (Lilina, Lysithea) 2) Galeforce (OG Eliwood, Tibarn, Raven) 3) Double / Quad Builds (Maybe a subset of Galeforce, but serves a different purpose on maps with inflated stats; Est, Cordelia, etc)

Enemy Phase:  1) Retaliatory Nuke (Rinkah with Bonfire) 2) Sustain Tank (Aether Builds like Legendary Ike) 3) Stall Tank (Brave Ike and other more niche builds) Mixed Phase:  1) DPS (Special Spiral Builds like NY!Alfonse) 2) Duelist (Ross, Donnel, Itsuki, etc) 3) Omnitanks (More of an AR choice, but the characters that can dish it out either in PP or EP; Again, Brave Ike, Ross, Echidna)

Support:  1) Full Support (Dancers/Healers with zero combat prowess) 2) Tank Support (Tanky Healers that can be on the front lines with Close Counter; doesn’t always require actually high defense) 3) Closers (Those random characters that accompany you on maps that only see combat every now and again due to one very specific niche they handle, or are good at moving characters around the field, and can block an entrance for a hit or two if need be / or support characters with combat prowess, like Dance!Reinhardt and Dance!Ishtar). _____ 

So if we take those roles into account, the characters I already have fully merged or are Merge Projects are: Nowi (+10): Enemy Phase Sustain Tank Sothe (+10): Player Phase Double Build Ross (+10): Mixed Phase Duelist Lyon (+7): Enemy Phase Stall Tank Micaiah (+5): Enemy Phase Retaliatory Nuke OR Player Phase Nuke (Depending on the enemy type) Mia (+3): Her most obvious build is a Desperation build for a Player Phase Double, but I submit that her Res stat is actually pretty good, and she’d be a decent Mixed Phase Duelist OG Eliwood (+3): Player Phase Galeforce, honestly one of the best ones Joshua (+2): Mixed Phase Duelist (that high Res stat tho) Donnel (+2): His stats allow for so much flexibility: Player Phase Quad with his new Refine, Enemy Phase Sustain Tank, Mixed Phase Duelist....he fits a lot of niches now that I think about it. Rath (+2): Player Phase Double Build Saber (+1): Honestly more of an Enemy Phase Stall Tank, but he can move into a Mixed Phase DPS given the right build.  Black Knight (+1): Again, super flexible because of the Fighter skills; but likely a Player Phase Double build with Bold Fighter. I have plenty of Bold Fighter fodder, and would love to watch him delete things off the map.  Nephenee (+1): Best niche is as an Enemy Phase Retaliatory Tank with Bonfire/Ignis Altena (+1): Pure Enemy Phase as a Stall Tank, especially against Bows. Even some Green units just can’t touch her Young Minerva (+1): Again, super flexible because of her speed. I like her as an Enemy Phase Stall Tank, though Matthew (+1): Enemy Phase Stall Tank, although magic really kicks him in the ass

____

Okay. Zero support units and very few Player Phase units. I def have a preferred playstyle. Although, I’ll submit that the units I get a lot of use from that aren’t merged helps cover that. Let’s go through and see if I have any options for Merge Projects that are sitting unmerged right now: 

Sword: Roy: Roy’s our boy! Roy’s our boy! I have his merges available, but I’ve been waiting to bite the bullet. His Res is just on the underside to make him a full Omnitank, so he’s definitely more of a Enemy Phase Sustain Tank. But he is getting a Resplendent soon... Soleil: Major Player Phase action. Honestly, along with Mia, could be an actually good contender for any future Close Call/Repel fodder I get.  Ares: Unlimited Bonfire makes for a strong DPS candidate. I worry that merging him and Eliwood would be too much, even though they serve completely different purposed. I hesitate only because I don’t know anything about him, really.  Fallen Ashnard: Fuck. His design is just *chef’s kiss.* I need to build him, and I have time, since he won’t hit the Grail market for another two months at least. But I feel like Ashnard, Altena, Young Minerva, and Myrrh would be a hilariously physically bulky team. 

Lance:  Valter: Disgusting villain, one you just love to hate. Smaller grail cost than others, since he’s been around a while. And he has to be up for a refine within the next 6 months. He’s high on the list. He could serve as a strong Player Phase Nuke Cormag: Much higher grail cost than Valter, but with a more balanced stat-line. More of a dream than anything.  Effie: Is it past time to build Effie’s? She was all the rage a year and a half ago. Although she can still put in work with her attack stat, and her speed is more than covered by Fighter skills. I just really have a hard time with Armor units.  Est: I see Est builds floating around and people rave about her. I wonder if it’s time to bite the bullet and build one myself.  Ferdinand: Shitty stat line, character I detested from 3H...why did I even put him on this list.  Oscar: Before this: WHERE IS BOYD. For fuck’s sake, it’s been years. Boyd deserves to be in 3H if Oscar is. Again, not a character I love, but has a refine that gives a niche(?). I honestly never see Oscar builds around, which tells me all I need to know.  Axe:  Raven: Easy to merge, great refine, easy to use Player Phase potential. One of the stronger Galeforce infantry units. Worth consideration.  Cherche: Similar to above, but as a nuke. I’ve seen her just delete characters off the map.  Titania: Super strong support capabilities. Tactics skills are pretty fucking dope most of the time.  Bow:  Norne: Incredible stat line, and I have a Midori that I could sink into her if I feel so inclined....now I just need merges. Clarisse: Honestly, her new refine is pretty sick, although she’s a very high level Grail cost. Might need to wait and see on this one, at least until her refine is fixed. Claude: I legitimately think that, if I decided this is what I wanted, I could get a +10 Claude. But that would me a LOT of Lull fodder that I don’t use. I’d love this, but I don’t think so. Halloween Rolf: Fucking adorable character and design, Grail cost is too high. 

Dagger:  Kronya: Stupid character, amazing options. Hard to justify with Sothe and Matthew above her in priority of characters I love.  Tethys: I dismissed Tethys way back when she launched, but I actually feel like she’s found a niche with her high Res stat? Again, hard to justify, though.  Winter Jaffar: Great character art, honestly. Top Tier. Decent combat potential, but his green coloring hurts him pretty hard. Also he’s armor, I just have a hard time with armors. 

Red Mage: OG Tharja: She’s on a similar level as Nino, for me. But has a refine that gives her a really interesting niche. I go back and forth, I need to test her out in combat more.  Aversa: Incredible support, especially in large maps like Grand Conquests. Her merges would be mostly about getting that HP stat up. I don’t really need her to be combative.  Arvis: I love his character design and he can have some really fun builds with his special B skill. I’m waiting for a refine before I make any decisions, though.  Iago: New character that I don’t love in terms of base game, but interesting support potential.  Male Morgan: He’s shown up so many times I could build two +10 versions of him (which crosses my mind sometimes). I wish his defensive stats were higher, it would make for a slightly more interesting unit.  Blue Mage:  Fallen Delthea: I realize that I really do love a lot of the Fallen character’s designs...except for Celica. Delthea has a strong presence and she could be worth the Grails. Brunnya: I’m seeing Brunnya everywhere on Reddit. I should pay more attention to her builds, I think. Why are there so many decent Grail units?? Reinhardt: Not a hot take: don’t love Reinhardt. But fuck if he isn’t super useful sometimes. It’s really remarkable how well he’s stayed either inside or right outside the meta. Still not gonna build him.  L’Arachel: I love her character and personality, and I just have this sinking feeling that her refine is gonna suck. So idk, hard to tell at the moment. 

Green Mage: Soren: Also capable of the Triple Chill strategy, but with more Combat Prowess. I don’t have enough for a +10 though right now. Definitely on the backburner.  Halloween L’Arachel: A person can dream, right? I have one and would love more. Maybe in the future.  Staff:  Silque: One of my favorite characters from SoV. And I just love defensive healers. I could get her to +2 right now, and I think it might be worth it to have her be a long term goal.  Forrest: I don’t have enough to +10 Forrest, but I do love his design. It leans into the aesthetic very well. His stats are pretty lackluster, unfortunately.  Mercedes: Pretty sure I could just copy and paste from above. Mercedes is one of the best characters from 3H, but her stat line and a lack of copies at the moment...hard to justify.  Brady: Another great defensive healer. Easier to merge than Silque, but his personality is kinda meh for me. Pass. 

Dragon:  Myrrh: Myrrh was on my “most wanted list” with OG Ephraim for forever. I only pulled an pitybreaker Myrrh a month ago. Her refine is INCREDIBLE, and I would love to try to get more merges for her. She has an upcoming banner coming up, and if I can score a couple of merges, I’ll be a happy camper. 

Beast:  Reyson: I’m close to being able to +10 Reyson soon. He gets a decent amount of work just as a dancer, if I fully kit him, he’d be able to hold highly with L!Azura in terms of usage, if only because of his weapon effect. Good solid passive healing is always hard to come by unless you use the healing specials. He’s worth a further look. 

I’ll analyze the rest of this tomorrow...Part 3, Section 2 will have to wait. 

[in78weeks-blog]

Adventure in Coachella Valley

About a month ago I found incredibly cheap roundtrip tickets to Palm Springs and instantly bought my tickets. While I began planning my trip, I realized that my college friend Lor-Shing lived in LA - only an hour and a half drive away. She was free for half of the weekend so she decided to come join me in the desert.

I arrived on Friday at 11am. I was planning on working remote for the day and Lor-Shing had some work to get done, so we found a coffee shop nearby and stopped in for the morning.

Though we had work to get done, we were both so eager to catch up and talk about all that had happened in our lives since the last time we saw each other. Giving ourselves more work and study breaks than we deserved, we found little moments to share anecdotes and eventually dove into a informative and self-reflective conversation about our personality traits and enneagrams.

Realizing that we were doing more talking than working and that we weren’t expecting to get too much work done for the rest of the day, at 4pm we packed up our belongings and sat in her car figuring out what to do next. We decided to venture into the snowy mountains of Mount San Jacinto via the Aerial Tram. We drove through the canyon leading to the base of the clouded mountains that towered over the town. The steady incline was proving to be a challenge to Lor-Shing’s sedan, but we let our conversation about life and love drown out the sound of the high rpm gear shifts of the car.

We beat the tour bus by a couple minutes and avoided waiting in the painfully long and restless line of tourists eagerly awaiting their trip up the side of the mountain. We entered the tram and as we began our ascent into the misty clouds above, we were surprised to feel the platform begin to turn. The circular platform made three rotations on our 15-minute ride to the mountain, giving us a view of both the mountain station ahead and the valley below.

For a 5 minute segment of our ride, we entered into a Jurassic Park like scene as the thick fog kept us from seeing only a couple hundred feet around us. My childhood fear of pterodactyls appearing from a dark fog crept back into my heart until we broke through the fog and were enlightened to see a wintery landscape atop the eerie cloud blanket.

We stepped off the tram into a cold wintery wonderland, much like the snowy Colorado mountains I had just left hours ago. Around us were unprepared Californians fashioning their flip-flops and short sleeves and Lor-Shing mentioned that this was the first time she had seen snow since living in Washington years ago. We wandered among the shaded forests on the mountainside, occasionally sinking into the deep snow and stepping back in shock as my stylish booties and Lor-Shing’s cloth sneakers weren’t built for cold and wet conditions.

We made our way back to the warm cabin and found a secluded corner to enjoy our hot chocolates and continue our conversation about where we were headed in life. In between our reflective conversation, we lulled into long spells of silence, where we turned our face to the sun and let the self-reflective thoughts sink into our hearts. The sun was beginning to set so we decided to make our way back down to a more favorable warm climate 10,000 feet below.

We were both tired from the travels and adventures of the day so we stopped in at our AirBnb and took a long nap to recover. I was jerked awake, and in a panic checked my clock to the surprise that I had slept for two hours. We were both incredibly hungry so we quickly found a Mexican restaurant to fill our stomachs. By the time we were done eating, it was too late in the day to do anything else so we went back to the AirBnb with a pint of dairy-free ice cream and called it a night.

Lor-Shing needed to leave by 12:30 to make it back to Los Angeles, so we decided to get an early start to Joshua Tree National Park to make the most of our remaining time together. I had visited Joshua Tree National Park once while I was a college student, but the drive was completely unfamiliar to me. We arrived as the ranger was getting to the entrance station so we were hopeful to be some of the first people in the park.

We had no rigid plan so we drove through the park and stopped at unique spots along the way as they peaked our interest. We climbed among the rocks, wandered through the Joshua Trees, leisurely enjoying the warm sunlight against our skin.

We stumbled across some boulderers in the park, so even though I wasn’t properly dressed, I borrowed a pair of shoes from the friendly climbers and jumped on a couple easy climbs. I caught myself saying “I definitely need to make a climbing trip out here” several times and made a mental note to reach out to climbing friends later to gauge interest.

We spent most of our time at the Jumbo Rocks area, wandering among the massive tan-colored rocks, laying out on the surface of the rocks and letting the sun warm our skin and hearts. There’s something about carelessly wandering around a foreign landscape, throwing my arms in the air and twirling with and against the wind, that makes me connect with my whole self. Letting the emotions of my heart manifest in frustrating screams, a fit of laughter, or uncontrollable tears, creates space for my heart to show her true colors, and gives my brain the opportunity to catch up and recognize where my heart’s at.

This time, twirling to the beat of the joyful music in my heart, I laughed and smiled, and thanked God for friends like Lor-Shing that ground me and remind me of the gifts He has granted me in this stage of my life. I thanked Him for granting me the opportunity to experience freedom like never before, and trusting me to share my story with the world.

We walked, we danced, we laughed, but it was soon time to say goodbye. Goodbyes are difficult, especially when you don’t feel like you’ve had enough time to properly catch up. I still had so much I wanted to do with Lor-Shing, but she had to return to her ever-changing life in Los Angeles so at 2pm, she dropped me off in downtown Palm Springs and she was on her way home.

My plan was to wander around the town of Palm Springs until it got dark, then return to the airport to pick up my rental car. I had four hours to kill, and an entire town to explore, so how bad could it be? I didn’t realize that Palm Springs was a very bougie town, and unfortunately didn’t find anything that interested me as I walked around town. I also wasn’t hungry so stopping into a restaurant to enjoy a meal wasn’t an option. I found a quiet spot on a side street and took a moment to enjoy people watching and sitting in silence.

Finally it was time to return to the airport to pick up my rental car - a sweet silver Toyota Corolla. It was already dark, but I wanted to try my hand at night photography so I drove back out to Joshua Tree National Park and spent two hours in the cold trying to capture the light of the stars against the beautiful desert landscape.

Instead of finding a place to sleep for the night, I decided that I would car camp in my rental car so I could be more flexible with my schedule. My next destination was a two hour drive away and my plan was to car-camp in the desert area surrounding it, but after an hour of driving, I was too tired to continue driving. So I stopped in at a 24 hour fitness parking lot and called it a night.

I slept surprisingly well in the Corolla, a much smaller vehicle than my Highlander that I’m used to, but made it work by putting down the back seats and sticking my feet into the darkness of the trunk. I woke up awfully early to take quick shower at 24 hour fitness before heading out to my next destination. After getting freshened up, I drove south along the Salton Sea and witness a beautiful sunrise. The pink and orange sky silhouetted the palm tree farms in such a way that I felt like I was on the beach.

I arrived at Salvation Mountain just as the sun was beginning to peak over the hill. As I was driving up, I could see a couple hundred feet ahead of me the massive lettering on the side of the hill that read “GOD IS LOVE”. The excitement in my heart grew to a skip-and-a-hop toward the vibrant mountain that proclaimed the love of Christ to the world. There were a group of girls taking photos of each other and admiring the 50 foot display of faith and love.

After the girls left, I was the only one remaining and proceeded to walk around the property, examining the hallowed out vehicles that were plastered with the same messages of faith and love. While wandering around, a voice in the distance called out “Good Morning, how are you doing today”? I turned around toward the voice and tried to make out the person who it belonged to. After a couple seconds, I saw a man with crazy curly hair in the shadow of an RV waving and walking in my direction. I answered “I can’t complain. I get to worship Jesus on a Sunday at the most magnificent place in the world”.

He introduced himself as Ron, one of the caretakers of the mountain. He told me about each of the cats that lives on the property, their different personalities and a couple anecdotes about each of them. As other visitors came to have their look, he stayed by my side, shouted a quick greeting and continued on with the conversation we were having.

We didn’t talk too much about faith, although I wish we did. It seemed he was happy to have someone around to listen to stories from his daily life. He was very proud to be part of the salvation mountain family and being a part of the movement to share the love of Christ with others.

For some context, Salvation Mountain lies in a off-the-beaten-path desert town called “Slab City”. Slab City isn’t much of a city at all really, it’s just a collective of vehicle-dwelling folk. Most of the population lived in RVs but it didn’t seem these vehicles were used for transportation at all. Run down tarps and steel sheets held up by wooden posts were makeshift porches outside the entrance of campers ironically decorated with the colors and designs of the desert.

As a charcoal grey Mercedes-Benz Sprinter van sped down the dirt road adjacent to Ron’s home, he let out a snarky comment about “those people” and how they glamorize living out of a vehicle. Oh if only he knew that I was “one of those trendy car-dwellers” too. He’s right though, I don’t understand the lifestyle of the vehicle-dwellers in Slab City, and I hope I don’t seem like I claim to be. That honest comment that Ron made gave me a lot to think about on my drive back to Palm Springs.

Per Ron’s suggestion, I made a quick stop at East Jesus - a whimsical art installation just down the road. From the fuselage an old Cessna plane to a huge wall of old tube televisions, this interesting destination did not disappoint. Here I met a man of many names, but apparently the people here call him “Wizard”. His long beard, excessively tall and crooked wooden cane, and long tattered trench coat suggested that the nickname was founded from his appearance rather than his mystical powers. Wizard aimlessly pointed at several parts around the property and claimed creative genius and manual effort on several of the art pieces. Free from his wizardly mysterious speech about the purpose of the East Jesus art installation, I walked around to each piece to appreciate the handiwork.

After a morning of interesting conversation and much to think about, I drove back to Palm Springs, enjoying the Palm Tree farms along the way.

Next stop was the Moorten Botanical Garden. I heard about a beautiful cactus greenhouse and was excited to see it for myself. The botanical garden held all kinds of desert plants, from the dense fountain-style leaves of the Aloe Vera plant to tiny button cacti. At the entrance of the garden and final stop of the botanical garden loop was a shop with an array of succulents and desert plants that were for sale. I desperately wanted one but my small living space and airplane baggage limitations held me back from making a spontaneously rash decision to purchase a new plant friend.

With a couple hours remaining before I had to head to the airport, I decided to head out to Indian Canyon to see the biggest California Fan Palm Oasis in the world. I didn’t bring any athletic shoes so I wasn’t going to be able to go on a very aggressive hike, but I found two short hikes to explore.

The loop hike at Andreas Canyon was a living, ecological dichotomy. In the desert hills of Agua Caliente Nature Preserve was a lush green oasis sustained by the stream formed from the snowmelt of mountains many miles away. Walking into the valley of the dry barren mountains, I felt my lungs being coated with the moisture from the oasis surrounding me. To the right of the trail was a rock wall carved out from years of steady water erosion, and to my left was the flowing of a crystal clear stream that supplied the nutrients for the massive palm trees that provided my shade.

The loop took me on on the canyon on the south bank of the stream where I could get a aerial view of the oasis against the backdrop of red stone. Back when I would go hiking in the Pacific Northwest, I would be in awe as I looked at a mountaintop view of dense forest around me and ask the daunting question “How many trees do you think we can see from here?”. Asking this question at this particular spot on my hike didn’t seem so daunting. In fact from where I stood, I could probably give you an accurate number within the hour.

It was growing dark and the time to return the rental car was creeping near so I began my drive back to the airport. With a camera full of photos and a happy heart filled with new memories with an old friend, I was heading home to Denver with a smile on my face.

[thesinglesjukebox]

SAMPA THE GREAT - FINAL FORM

[7.38]

Ascending to the sidebar...

William John: "How you supposed to be Black down under?" mused Sampa the Great in 2017, before relenting to an undulant groove. It's not a question I can answer, but in a nation built on the genocide of Indigenous people and with a Home Affairs minister and his prejudiced lackeys hell-bent on characterising all African refugees as violent gang members, it's likely to be something close to: "with great difficulty." All the more reason, then, to celebrate this moment of fearlessness from an African-Australian artist (well -- she's as much American as Australian, but we do have a habit of claiming foreign high achievers as our own). A majestic, honking beat, built around the Sylvers' "Stay Away From Me," wouldn't require much work from any vocalist to mould into a slapper for the ages. But Sampa takes no chances, contrasting an assonant, almost restrained chorus with verses heavy on braggadocio. "Young veteran; new classic," she spits, beatifying herself and rewriting the unfortunate, Snow White antipodean rap canon herself with a single breath. [8]

Ian Mathers: It takes a bold performance to not just stand up to, but dominate over those strong Sylvers horns, and Sampa is up for it. "Young veteran, new classic" is the kind of line that plenty of new performers essay, and sometimes it sees charming at best (or foolishly presumptive at worst), but with "Final Form" if anything it seems like Sampa is confident enough to underplay her case. [9]

Edward Okulicz: Her final form emerges over a sample that makes it sound like the opening credits of a kick-ass action film, and it's a thrilling moment. If anything though, the endless horizon of those horns blares a little too much and drowns Sampa out. But she's got enough presence to always be in charge of her own look-at-me-I'm-awesome track, and when she says "Last name Tembo, first name Eve," I'm not sure if she means she's the first, or if she fancies herself as the next Eve. Either seems fine to me. Releasing this in the thick of Melbourne's winter is perverse, though. [8]

Alfred Soto: From the Sylvers sample to the first-recorded use of "melanin" in a hook, "Final Form" has buoyancy that's unreal. I'm not sure it's a classic yet, but I wanna hear it again. And again. [7]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: Silentjay's anthemic production and slick sample-flipping are strong enough to warrant a completely instrumental version, and the existence of the extended intro indicates that everyone involved was aware of this. It finds a strong partner in Sampa, her voice overflowing with the confidence needed to sell both the music and lyrics here. Still, it's all rather tired and unexciting in 2019, and the slickness of Sampa's delivery -- something more evocative on a track like "Energy" -- is absent here, overtaken by a need to create something a bit more declaratory. [5]

Will Adams: The track's admittedly a bit stationary, but Sampa's urgent delivery sells it. And then it inexplicably, frustratingly ends on a fade out. A mission statement this forceful deserves punctuation, not a trail-off into nothing. [6]

Vikram Joseph: Sampa's flow spits and crackles effortlessly over bombastic, peacocking brass, and the segue between the first and second verse is exquisite, the two linked by a tantalisingly brief soul sample which, unfortunately, is barely seen again. It's a shame that the chorus feels like such a lull; at the very least, each iteration of it is twice as long as it needs to be, sapping momentum from a song that relies upon it. [6]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: Silentjay's production job here is near-flawless -- both the sample flip and the original synth bits. It's the platonic ideal of a soul-sampling beat, mixing in The Sylvers both vocally and instrumentally until the lost love of the original track is completely denatured and turning it into something triumphant. And yet, the production here is completely overshadowed by Sampa Tempo herself, who truly lives up to her chosen moniker. Her command of her choppy, playful flow is so skillful that she bends the beat to her will instead of the other way around, and her lyrics, which literally stride the globe in their ambitions, match her skill. It's a full barrage of a song, an unrelenting display of talent for three-and-a-half minutes. [10]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]

[thesinglesjukebox]

SUMMER WALKER X DRAKE - GIRLS NEED LOVE (REMIX) [5.14] But do they need a remix?

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: Summer Walker's yearning is so pure that Drake comes off as only slightly sleazy as he sells her on "dick with no complications." This is a vibe record so unassailable and nondescript that not even Drake can capsize or colonize it -- there's barely a song for him to take over, just two smooth singers not talking about much. [5]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: "Girls Need Love" finally feels complete: with Drake's sentimental crooning, we witness the tragedy that comes with being discouraged from declaring one's desire for love. For some, Drake is the closest thing to an understanding partner they'll ever hear. Others will see through him, yet remain content with settling -- the seeming impossibility of filling a loveless void can lead to chasing hollow romance. Arsenio Archer's unhurried beat situates listeners in a 3am haze, like someone recognizing the small pleasure and underwhelming banality of intimacy mid-coitus. It'll do. After all, why would you think you could do better? [7]

Tobi Tella: The original was one of my favorite songs of last year, an incredibly honest slow jam. I love the pointing out of the double standard, how guys can talk about wanting a girl all they want but when a woman does it, it's clingy and desperate. It felt like an honest declaration from the heart. But then Drake jumped on it, attempting to be the "thug" the lyrics describe despite his hardest bars of last year being about taking medication to sleep on a flight, and I just tune out. Summer Walker, I know girls need love but like... does it have to be from him? [6]

Ryo Miyauchi: Summer Walker deserves better than a sleepwalking Drake for this remix, though his lack of engagement also underlines the song's point that men don't listen to women and their needs. Drake also subtly cosigns the song's woozy, screwed-up R&B production that he brought in his wake, and Walker provides a nice counter to the male narrative often accompanied by that aesthetic. She sounds trapped, unable to realize her own desires, in an emotionally suffocating OVO-informed world. That said, the beat's slow crawl kills a lot of the energy put forth by Walker, who needs to ditch this passive-aggressive sound to really speak her mind. [5]

Ian Mathers: Ah, the paradox of Fucking Drake; I almost certainly wouldn't have heard this perfectly fine song without his presence getting it more attention, but the version without him is absolutely better. [6]

Iris Xie: Drake is the equivalent of a slow jam snake who seeps into the airwaves and provides faux warmth. Also, dammit Drake, why do you always got to make it all about you? "You don't really call on me like you should," like really? He is re-directing himself as a symbol of that desire that could fulfill that need? I'm so sick of how his singing lulls listeners into a false sense of comfort that smooths over the really insidious lyrics he continues to sing, creating an aural sensation of premium fuckboy. This song is also saddening, if only because Summer Walker's lines about "girls can't say" are unfortunately very true (thanks for reinforcing said bullshit, misogyny and sexism!) There's also a moment where Summer Walker sings, "Please don't get in your feelings" to take a stab at him to not get feelings, because he's just as fallible too. But that little jab is overshadowed by Drake, for his narrative is practically omnipresent. He is still being the nice guy who will fuck her and give her what she needs, no sweat, he understands when he sings, "I get it, I'm on your side, guys get their way all the time." But we get no sense of aftermath -- this is just a fantasy for a vacuum-sealed desire, set to a Ziploc bag of airless alt-R&B. Sure, a girl can fuck like a guy too, what a tired trope, but even that sense of agency is skewed. Why? Because Drake always manages to warp it back to re-centering around him, always him, "I get it, I'm on your side, guys get their way all the time." We don't get her reply afterward, just a re-iteration of her original desire, "Girls need love, too," now overshadowed because it fits so neatly inside of his ability to give in such precise ways that are convenient to him and his desires. This is meant to be an ode to consensual mutual sex without feels, but "Girls Need Love" comes off as a display of Drake's special brand of opportunism. [4]

Katherine St Asaph: Summer Walker's part is low-key to a fault, as if turning her "lazy singing Drake" into an entire career pitch. Drake remains Drake: lazy singing, waiting three whole seconds before saying the words "like you should." But he's finally found a duet partner as soporific as he is. How is this a track where she mentions screaming and he mentions BDSM, yet from beat to vocals, everything sounds like they find foreplay a little too strenuous? [3]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox ]

[the-morgan]

Remi Aboderin: Anthony Joshua not Nigeria’s best

New Post has been published on https://vip.anthonyjoshua.club/remi-aboderin-anthony-joshua-not-nigerias-best/

Remi Aboderin: Anthony Joshua not Nigeria’s best

Boxing promoter turned administrator Remi Aboderin sat down with TAIWO ALIMI and ADEYINKA AKINTUNDE to talk about how his background stimulated his passion for fisticuffs, Anthony Joshua, present and future of Nigerian boxing.

His passion for boxing was fuelled by his father from childhood. He would sit at his feet while watching Muhammad Ali and other legends in the 70s. Watching and studying, he developed an undying love for the sweet science kindled by Ali vs Foreman 1974 Rumble in the Jungle, and Thrilla in Manila Ali vs Joe Frazier (1975) and many others that drew the world’s attention to make boxing the most watched sports in that era.

Oluwaremilekun Aboderin better known as Remi Aboderin a.k.a ‘Don King of Nigeria’ got hooked and even in adulthood could not wriggle out of it. He returned soon after he had graduated and worked briefly as a journalisat to promoting boxers and boxing shows. He would not let go even when boxing took a plunge no thanks to the all-embracing attention given football by those in sport authority. He kept on digging and today, Aboderin, sits atop the administrative office of Nigerian Boxing Board of Control (NBB of C) as the general secretary and the West African Boxing Union, (WABU) as president.

“My love for boxing started from childhood. Then, boxing was the number sport in the world. Your parent must not find you playing football, but when you come home crying beaten by your age-mate from outside, your parents would ask you to go back. They want you to be tough.

“We had NTA Sports then on Saturdays, and what they showed most was boxing. My father was a lover of boxing and he always invited me to watch with him. I was also opportune to watch the “Rumble in the Jungle” between Muhammad Ali and George Foreman. That was where the love began.”

In Nigeria, he was also drawn to boxing through the exploit of Hogan Kid Bassey, Obisia Nwankpa, Dele Jonathan, Joe ‘Atomic Bomb’ Lasisi that made the sport glorious in the 70s and 80s.

“Though, there was Emmanuel Okala and many great footballers then, boxing no doubt, was the king of sports.

“Boxing was the sport our former President, Nnamdi Azikiwe was involved in. It is a show of your manliness that got the ladies flocking around you.”

Though, he did not get to wear gloves, he built up a deportment and carriage akin to a boxer. “My friends know I don’t talk much, but if it is fight, let us fight. I don’t look for trouble, but when trouble breaks out, I stay with it.

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“I grew up in tough environments; Ajegunle and Agege and so boxing was the in-thing for us.”

At a point, he drifted away from boxing, but the bond between them proved too strong.

“Whatever God has destined for you, you would fulfil it. I was trained as a journalist and I worked in newspaper houses. In 1999 I saw a boxing show on TV. It was shabbily arranged, and I thought I could do better that that. I thought I could go into boxing promotion. I asked around, and I was told that there was the NBB of C, in charge of boxing. I was taken to late Sir Walter Batowei, a journalist with FRCN and general secretary of NBB of C. He later became vice president under the presidency of Chief Godwin Kanu.  I got registered in 1999, and my first pro motion was in 2000.”

Like a true fighter, Aboderin did not let the knockdown occasioned by lull in boxing dampen his courage.  “If you are into something, you will keep forging ahead whether good or bad. I will not say I was encouraged or discouraged, I just forge ahead. A boxer will always tell you that he will defeat somebody, even if he is not sure of victory. It is in the blood.

“Boxing is in so many facets. It is about a promoter having one or two boxers that are good and you want to promote them. If you have a show and your boxer is good and he wins, even if you do not get money there, your boxer can be invited from outside the country to box. You just have to keep promoting your boxers. A promoter must have boxers on his bill. The most important thing is putting your boxer in the forefront and that is what I did. I just keep pushing.”

An incurable optimist- the promoter turned administrator- is certain Nigeria is blessed with natural and good boxers. He boldly expressed that good days are back for Nigerian boxing.  “Right now, GOtv is doing wonderful things for boxing in Nigeria.”

Aboderin revealed that GOtv has been able to expose and change the lives of established and many up and coming boxers. “Aside from recognized boxers, GOtv has done about five GOtv boxing series every year. About 80 boxers have been discovered, and 25 potential champions picked.

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“Most of the boxers making waves are GOtv products. It has helped to discover them but they also need regular bouts and endorsements to feed their families.

“I can say aloud that boxing is back, thanks to GOtv and Flykite. If not for COVID-19, we would have had four boxing shows between April and July. If in a year, we can have about four to five shows staged by other promoters to add to GOtv’s five in a year that would be enough. For your information, two international fights organized by GOtv would have happened but COVID-19 pandemic disrupting it.”

He said the cable network provider has also lifted the social and economic status of boxers.

“Taiwo ‘Esepo’ Agbaje recently talked about how he bought some okadas (commercial motorcycles) and tricycles (keke) after winning N1million to N2million at ‘GOtv Boxing Night. Someone that could hardly feed himself now has a business bringing steady income to help himself and his family. This is due to the intervention of GOtv.

“If the tempo had continued, he would have had some fights, maybe commonwealth title, and make good money for himself. His coaches and manager would make someth8ing too.”

Aboderin, who is also big on entertainment, said all hands must be on deck to create more good boxers while hinting that boxing is capable of taking crime out of the youths and creating more jobs.

“Beyond money, the right policy must be put in place. This is what will drive sponsorship and money. What do I mean by enabling environment? Nigeria government need to make policy statement that will make corporate bodies know that they should invest in Nigerian sports.”

“It is an error to say that the best of our boxers are abroad, they are here in Nigeria and if they get conducive environment they can be greater.”

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He was bold to add that Nigeria has better heavyweight boxers than world heavyweight champion Anthony Joshua (AJ).

“We see a lot of Nigerian boxers doing well abroad. The name on everybody’s lips today is Anthony Joshua. What happens to our boxers here? Is it that they cannot make it unless they go out?

“It is unfortunate that we keep talking about AJ. We have better boxers right here in Nigeria. We have a boxer that was actually taken out after the Olympics; Efe Ajagba. He is one of the best heavyweight fighters in the industry now and he was trained here. He has done 13 professional fights so far and has won nine by TKO.

“Tyson Fury, AJ’s next opponent is already talking about Ajagba. We have the materials, what we do not have is the enabling environment. For Fury to call Ajagba out means that he is good.

“How do we get endorsements when companies are not endorsing regular fights? A company in Nigeria went to London to endorse AJ, who never for once said he wants to represent Nigeria. There is the claim that he came to Nigeria and he was driven back, that never happened. He is a British-born Nigerian boxer.”

He also frowned at the number of boxing sanctioning bodies explaining  that they retard progress. “Why boxing also left the number one sports position in the world, is because of the too many sanctioning bodies. In football, we have FIFA alone coming with the sledge hammer, but in boxing, we have the WBC, WBF, WBA, WBO, IBF and others.

“But thank God for what is happening now because boxing is the second most loved sport in the world. Four major bodies have been picked now to sanction boxing. That is WBA, WBC, IBF, and WBO. If this has been done years back, boxing would have been at par with football.”

Aboderin comes from one of the largest families in Ibadan, and late Chief Olu Aboderin, owner of Punch Newspapers is uncle to his father. He is a Chelsea fan and enjoys watching football too.

TKO WITH ABODERIN

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ON ANTHONY JOSHUA

AJ is not a Nigerian boxer. It is unfortunate that our leaders go after finished product, and neglect raw material. The westerners see the raw talent and they come here to pick them. Samuel Peters was in Nigeria he went to the Olympics and he was discovered and picked, he went to America and became a world beater.

IF NOT BOXING ADMINISTRATOR…

I would have been a journalist or maybe a policeman. I have read a lot of crime books and wanted to be a crime buster. Most of my guys in the Police force now are in top positions; maybe I would have become a Police Commissioner by now.

ALI OR TYSON

I would have said Tyson because he comes with all the power of George Foreman, but Ali will any day go the distance as much as 15 rounds with Tyson. I love Tyson, but Ali was the greatest. I go for Ali

JOSHUA VS FURY VS WILDER

Boxing these days is more of entertainment. It is not as brutal as it used to be. I don’t see AJ not advancing well. Anytime from now, I see him fighting Tyson Fury or Deontay Wilder. I prefer he fights Wilder, who has not fought man big names. AJ has fought Joseph Parker, Wladimir Klitschko, and other big names. If AJ meets Deontey, I believe that he will win.

ON NBB OF C

If there is a rift between the promoter and boxer, they come to us. We look at the contract signed by a boxer and if the boxer tries to play a fast one on the promoter by going to another person that can pay more, we ask him to honour the signed contract, and if he refuses, he can be sanctioned. That is the role we play. We safeguard the promoters’ money for the boxer.

BOXING & JOB CREATION  

Boxing can create jobs for over four million people in Nigeria. In Lagos alone, on my list I have about 200 boxers, and no matter how bad, 40 will be good boxers. In Ibadan, they will be up to 200. A boxer needs at least four people for a bout; coaches, physician and manager.

TO BE A GOOD BOXER 

It’s easy to be a boxer, and in actual fact anybody can be a boxer all you need is the interest, and as long as you are medically fit you will come with your coach to us (NBB of C). You will be issued a license you will then put on gloves get into the ring and either gets beaten or you beat your opponent, either win or lose you will be referred to as a “Champ” all boxers are champs.

But to be a good amateur boxer you must train hard and win most of your fights and thus get an opportunity to represent the country at international meets then you are referred to as a good amateur boxer. But to be a good pro boxer you must train very hard, keep your body in tremendous physical condition, spend majority of your youths life in the boxing gym by cutting out unnecessary excesses, as explained by Muhammad Ali, the actual boxing is done in the gym (training), what people pay to come and watch on bouts days is the entertainment aspect of the game.

HOBBIES & PHILOSOPHY

I just finished reading Segun Adeniyi’s book on late Nigeria president, Umaru Yar’Adua. When I was younger I used to finish a book in one and a half days. I read all the Hardly Chase, Nick Carter and Harold Robbins series. I believe that everything in life has been ordained by God. I believe so much in God. God is in charge of every one’s life.

FASHION & STYLE 

I love to dress simply. When I am travelling, I wear knickers, polo shirt and slippers, due to the stress of checking in. However on big occasions such as boxing convention abroad I will wear my agbada (Yoruba flowing robe), and the westerners usually notice me and scramble to take pictures with me. Aside from that, I go with whatever is trending.