#winter miele

[hirak0s]

❛ You asked to see me? ❜ (for Rose!)

"Oh yes! Come in, make some tea... I've finally finished that song..." He had his guitar out, and he was strumming along... Paperwork was neatly stacked on his desk, and it looked like it was finished, just needing to be delivered to the other squads and the first.

[ravensofskyhold]

Kaistaa lyrics & translation

Lyrics:

Hi Käärijä Hi Bess Haluuksä lähtee ajeleen? Tottakai tottakai Okei, let's go

Mä en haluu nukkuu sun kaa Mulla oli mieles muuta En haluu asuntolainaa, mitään vakiopaikkaa, lähtee talvee pakoon Espanjaan Jos hiljaisuutta puuttuu, mun kaa niin aika hiton harvoin sitä saat niin sano, oisko se OK, jos ei osteta Volvoo Oltais naapurin kaa kolmistaan

Mullei oo pelkääjälle paikkaa Mä painan kaasun pohjaan

Ajan omaa kaistaa, Viel ku on aikaa, Vielä ku on bensaa suonissa, Sä voit hyppää kyytiin tai jäädä nyyhkiin, Miettii jonkun toisen huolia, Ajan omaa kaistaa, Voit tulla maistaa nopeeta elämää mun huulilta, Mun sydän on täynnä, Sit ku tankki on tyhjä, Aion elää ku oon elossa

Mulla on isääntymisen aikeet, mut lisääntymisen paineet Tääl on synnytystalkoot, olkoot, yks hailee Elämä on yht Lintsii, mut käymät vielä kaikki laitteet Ikääntyminen on iisii, mut mut kasvu vaan niin vaikeet

Taas viikonloppuna hiiala-hiiala-hopsansaa Näin huputiti-hummani laukkaa jälleen Möttönen pöydässä poksahtaa, se on viikon Koistinen kaupan päälle Äiti pojastaan pappia toivoi, sai sadomasokistisen toyboyn, se on henkilökohtainen voi-voi-voi-voi-voi

Ajan omaa kaistaa, Viel ku on aikaa, Vielä ku on bensaa suonissa, Sä voit hyppää kyytiin tai jäädä nyyhkiin, Miettii jonkun toisen huolia, Ajan omaa kaistaa, Voit tulla maistaa nopeeta elämää mun huulilta, Mun sydän on täynnä, Sit ku tankki on tyhjä, Aion elää ku oon elossa

Jotain liikoja haluan kai, et aina ois lauantai, mä (en) syntyny vaan synnyttämään Jotain liikoja haluan kai, et aina ois lauantai, mä en syntyny vaan synnyttämään

Ajan omaa kaistaa, Viel ku on aikaa, Vielä ku on bensaa suonissa, Sä voit hyppää kyytiin tai jäädä nyyhkiin, Miettii jonkun toisen huolia, Ajan omaa kaistaa, Voit tulla maistaa nopeeta elämää mun huulilta, Mun sydän on täynnä, Sit ku tankki on tyhjä, Aion elää ku oon elossa

Translation:

Hi Käärijä Hi Bess Do you wanna go for a drive? Of course of course Okay, let's go

I don't want to sleep next to you (translator's note 1) I had something else in mind I don't want a mortgage, a regular haunt (t.n. 2), go to Spain to escape the winter If silence is missing, with me well you're going to get that so damn rarely so say, would it be OK, if we didn't buy a Volvo Would be throuple with the neighbour (t.n. 3)

I don't have a place/seat for someone who's afraid (t.n. 4) I'm putting the pedal to the metal

I drive on my own lane, While there's still time, While there's still petrol in the veins, (ref. 1) You can jump in (or: you can ride with me), Or stay and sob, Thinking about someone else's worries, I drive on my own lane, You can come and taste fast life from my lips, My heart is full, Once the fuel tank is empty, I'm going to live while I'm alive

I have intentions to become a dad, but the pressure to reproduce There's a childbirth bee (t.n. 5) going on here, whatever, I don't care Life is an (Linnanmäki) amusement park, but I haven't been to all the rides yet Aging is easy but growing up is just so difficult

On the weekend hiiala-hiiala-hopsansaa again Here's how my huputiti-horsey gallops again (ref. 2) Moët & Chandon/Champagne pops at the table, it's a week-long hangover on the house Mom wanted her son to become a priest (ref. 3) What she got was a sadomasochistic toyboy That's a personal oh-dear-dear-dear-dear

I drive on my own lane, While there's still time, While there's still petrol in the veins, You can jump in (or: you can ride with me), Or stay and sob, Thinking about someone else's worries, I drive on my own lane, You can come and taste fast life from my lips, My heart is full, Once the fuel tank is empty, I'm going to live while I'm alive

I guess I want too much something That it'd always be Saturday I wasn't born just to give birth I guess I want too much something That it'd always be Saturday I wasn't born just to give birth

I drive on my own lane, While there's still time, While there's still petrol in the veins, You can jump in (or: you can ride with me), Or stay and sob, Thinking about someone else's worries, I drive on my own lane, You can come and taste fast life from my lips, My heart is full, Once the fuel tank is empty, I'm going to live while I'm alive

translator's notes: 1: technically "I don't want to sleep with you", but sleep as in, actual sleep 2: could also be "a permanent job"? 3: could also be "would have a threesome with the neighbour"? 4: shotgun seat in Finnish can be called "pelkääjän paikka", lit. the seat/place of the afraid one 5: synnytys = childbirth, giving birth, talkoot = bee (as in, voluntary, unpaid gathering for carrying out a major task, such as harvesting or construction, as a community)

References to other media: 1: reference to Bensaa suonissa by Rauli “Badding” Somerjoki (or the movie Bensaa suonissa (1970)) 2: reference to Juokse sinä humma by Tapio Rautavaara 3: reference to Äiti pojastaan pappia toivoi by Kolmas nainen

[jamiebluewind]

Eclipse the kitten update

(please don't glitch tumblr it's the tenth time I've tried!!!)

Previous post

Welp! Winter's boy has a respiratory infection. It was causing him to wheeze so to the vet we went! Luckily it wasn't a diaphram issue (which had us worried because of his umbilical hernia). His hernia also came up normal on his x-rays.

(X-rays left out because might bother people, but I can send them on request)

He's on meds several times a day and taking them like a champ, but had to be put in a pen with limited free playtime (because nothing will stop Mr Indestructible from running around the house with all the grace of a car with no breaks). We DID get a reply after just a week from a really nice person who was going to give us one (shocked us let me tell ya because it was BIG dog sized). Unfortunately, they left it outside for us to pick up and someone else just... took it. Right out of their yard. And since all we had was a small cat carrier to keep him in (which was kinda cruel for more than a day or two tops), we ordered a cat playpen that we got for a decent price. We kept looking until it got here, but no luck. Still! It's a nice playpen and we have it set up so he doesn't have to jump if he doesn't want to (plus more vertical to enjoy later on). Sarah's mom also let us borrow her water fountain!

We went to a new vet as ours was booked up (and he had already been wheezing a day). Everyone basically fell in love with him instantly. He left with a little toy from the tech, they gave Winter a jar of honey (one of the people in the office has bees and they wanted to give her something for caring about a kitten that most wouldn't have despite him having a treatable condition), and they've been checking in on how he is recovering (very well since I first typed this actually). He's basically got an entire vet office wrapped around his little paw.

Also, the non-profit we're taking him to for his surgery had a cancelation and his got moved up to the 12th! Counting down the days yall.

Because I gotta kinda mention it, this hit us where it hurts. Between the vet visit and testing, the pen, and the estimated cost for the surgery and followup, it's gonna cost us more than $2k (as long as nothing ELSE goes wrong). We're lucky that we're all super careful with our money, but there's only so much we can save up with three people below the poverty line. Still worth it though. I mean, look at this doofus

He is so stubborn that we can't leave scratch posts upright because he keeps doing THIS! XD

I'm linking Winter's paypal, but I 1000% understand if you can't help out. Still, a reblog and a word or three mean a LOT to all of us so if you got a minute, I'd love some new post additions to show Winter.

(Truth be told, the only reason all the updates are posted on my tumblr is because I'm the longest winded out of the three of us and I take like 5 billion pictures. XD )

Speaking of, there WOULD be a bonus pic of him and his sister (Melanite, aka Miel) playing under my chair as my cat (Danny) looks on from a safe place, but tumblr kept glitching when I added it.

Edit: surgery update

[chargoeson]

Hello! Writeblr re-Introduction

hiiiii pals! I made my writeblr introduction last year and it was such a good intro to the community! but as time goes on and organizations fall i want to re-introduce myself and my writing without any associations.

my name is Charlotte, but you can call me Char as well. She/Her, I'm 25, queer, and live in the Pacific Northwest of the United States.

I write literary fiction with a special affection for surrealism and dream-like vibes. I do have a couple soft fantasy and short story projects that I've made posts for, but I'll stick to my litfic on this pinned post as they are my passion projects!

themes I often explore in these books are: isolation, anxiety, complex relationships between mothers and daughters, bisexuality, winter, dissociation, and overall rural misery!

I have a bachelor's degree in English Language and Literature and paid special attention to Gothic and Romantic movements.

on top of writing, I also love quilting/sewing, collage making, playing Stardew Valley and Baldur's Gate 3, and doing DIY home renovations.

Reading is my passion, even more so than writing! My favorite authors are Murakami, Mieko Kawakami, the Bronte sisters, Iain Reid, Han Kang, and Ottessa Moshfegh.

my three main WIPS can stand alone but are technically a trilogy. read about them after the cut!

The Ballad of a Blue Whale-- This novella was written in November, 2023. It follows Maren Hara, a recent college graduate who has to move back in with her father, a rigid and unfeeling doctor. To cope with the emotional distance of her father and the slow dissolution of her relationships she begins walking through the night. Both to be away from home and removed from her current life. It’s during these walks she finds a jazz bar in an adjoining city. The patrons, and especially the owner of this bar, captivate her. At the core of the narrative is her inability to open herself to others, and how attempts to do so are physically and mentally cataclysmic, although necessary. As she finds herself, she loses both her old life and this interim space. 

I Want to Build a Home with You-- This novel is in the first draft/development stage. I began in December, 2023. Its events follow Leonie Richards as she walks her grandmother, famed novelist Hellen Barnaby, through the final weeks of her life then inherits her home. Leonie, once an infamous performance artist, decides to settle into a life of portrait painting for a small but wealthy pool of clients left to her by her grandmother. Her old peers. After Hellen’s death, Leonie’s final connections to the outside world are her strange clients, the art store clerk, and her uncle Ox who is embittered by his lack of inheritance. The longer she stays in the home, the stranger things seem to be. She wakes up ragged, dirt under her fingernails with memories of a rock formation in the forest she has never seen. Forest spirits or generational curse, there is a limerence threatening her life. 

No Glory-- Special Agent Seth Barnaby has been tasked with investigating the mysterious, possibly cult-associated murders of young women across the state, but this one could be the key. To decode the newest set of clues he teams up with Director of Anthropology Dr. Miel Noh and they get into the field. The small town misleads them at every turn, from an odd boy named Calf to the corpse of a girl who was staying in his family’s motel. With Seth’s checkered past he recognizes the patterns, but time is of the essence and if they don’t find answers another woman could die. With no way out, they return to the only lead Seth knows: an institutionalized man who confessed to the first murder that brought Seth to the FBI years ago.

and that's a wrap! thank you for reading, would love to reconnect with writers from last year as well as new friends. feel free to slide into my asks, follow, or join the tag list.

tags: @annlillyjose @coffeeandcalligraphy @subtlefires @belovedviolence @onomatopiya @thelaughingstag

[chicinsilk]

US Vogue October 1, 1962

Balenciaga Haute Couture Collection Fall/Winter 1962-63. Dorothy McGowan wears a honey-brown wool tweed suit and matching suede hat.

Balenciaga Collection Haute Couture Automne/Hiver 1962-63. Dorothy McGowan porte un tailleur en tweed de laine brun miel et chapeau en daim assorti.

Photo Bert Stern voguea archive

[tickety-boooo]

Good Omens Poetry: #chillomenstober day 10

The fourth prompt is: Yellow. I wrote a freeform poem in french! Forgive me for any grammatical mistakes, I am quite rusty but I tried my best! Wishing my high school french prof was here to correct my work xD

C'est la couleur de tes yeux Qui me fait toujours sourire Même quand je suis seul Je pense à toi dans ces moments Une chaleur pendant l'hiver Quand je désire Que tu me prennes dans tes bras Ou le jaune des feuilles d'automne Qui tombent dans un tas Et font le craquement sous nos pieds Les rayons dorés de soleil Nourrissent les tournesols Donc ils poussent bien en été Et aussi les abeilles Qui travaillent dur dans la ruche Le miel du printemps est le plus sucré La beauté dans tes yeux On le trouve partout Tu es toujours avec moi Mon cher

English Translation It's the color of your eyes That always makes me smile Even when I'm alone I think of you in these moments A warmth during winter When I long For you to take me in your arms Or the yellow of autumn leaves That fall in a pile And make a crunch under our feet The golden rays of the sun Feed the sunflowers So they thrive in the summertime And also the bees Who work hard in the hive Spring honey is the most sweet The beauty in your eyes It is found everywhere You are always with me My dear

[honowyn-art]

A training Miel, I tried new colors on her and I think it will be her winter fluff! But I'll draw her more fluffy in the future hehe

[brentchua]

hold nyc, f/w 2025

aprèsrush

featuring from top to bottom NELSON MIELES, HENRY RANK, GRAY EBERLEY, RAZAK SALIFOU, IKCE WICASA QUILES, DANIEL CLENNEY, JUNO MARLEY GUNN, ELIJAH BARNHART, SKYLAR IRBY, DYLAN LEE, IAN BROOK, VITOR JUSTINO DRUMMOND, ASHER LONDON, BARAK SHAMIR, CHRISTIAN ARCIGA, OLIVER THRALL, GABBRIEL RICCIERI, VLAD OGURTSOW, RYAN WINTER, EDUARDO TOZZI, and HUNTER WARR.

hair CHRISTIAN CRUSH @ ORIBE

make up AUGMENT

casting BRENT CHUA

for full story please visit:

models.com

[hirak0s]

"Then let me take the tiger out for some taiyaki and tea~ We can negotiate over that, perhaps?"

"Good choice, sir. Aaaand, since I'm feeling generous... want some intel for eventual negotiations?"

"Said legendary tiger has quite legendary good taste, and REALLY likes chocolate-filled taiyaki~ Trust me, it's a guaranteed success, Captain."

[ginabiggs]

Winter x Summer

Postcard art of Abeille x Miel from Love Not Found

[allthefakepeople]

Description:

Cold. After everything that had happened prior to the holiday break and the constant crying and feelings of anger and betrayal, all that seemed to be left behind was a bone-deep chill. aka Simon tries to come back to Hillerska after the winter holiday and ignore the opinions of those around him. Unfortunately the voices are too loud. Luckily Wille is there for him when he needs it most.

Read it on AO3

hi folks!

last fic i'm positing today

this one i've always been extremely proud of.

the original was written for @simons-purplehoodie and you can find it HERE

i hope you enjoy!

-miels 💜

[cloneloverrrrr]

𝗦𝗹𝗲𝗲𝗽𝗶𝗻𝗴 / 𝗖𝘂𝗱𝗱𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗛𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗰𝗮𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗪𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗠𝘆 𝗙𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗖𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗲𝘀 ⠀

𝗖𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗲𝘀 𝘅 𝗦/𝗢 𝗙𝗲𝗺 𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 ⠀

𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹 𝗳𝗿𝗲𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗿𝗲𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗴 𝗶𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗴𝗿𝗲𝗲 𝗼𝗿 𝗱𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗮𝗴𝗿𝗲𝗲 ⠀

😬⠀

Tag list : @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @hellhound5925 @blueink-bluesoul @freesia-writes @wolffegirlsunite @idontgetanysleep @ilovestarwarsmen725

Anyone else who wants to join in🥰

⠀

𝗪𝗼𝗹𝗳𝗳𝗲 ⠀

⠀

• Would keep a slight distance between you both until he feels more open and relaxed⠀

•Will hold you until he knows your in a peaceful sleep then he will kiss your temple and turn over ⠀

•Once he is fully open and an established trust is formed with you both he wont keep his hands off you, he will trace small circles into your exposed skin and pepper you with kisses ⠀⠀

•If you wake up from a bad dream or not feeling too good he will instantly reach for his blaster to ensure no danger and to get you back off to sleep he will kiss your neck, your ears, your temples and his body will mould into yours

•He gives off alot of body heat and is perfect for cold winter nights ⠀

•You will always be little spoon no matter what ⠀

⠀

𝗙𝗶𝘃𝗲𝘀⠀

⠀

•No doubt about it he will take most of the room and you'll need to push him over to his side during the night⠀

•He falls asleep within seconds but will need to be touching you whether its spooning, legs touching, holding your hands if you are sleeping opposite each other ⠀

•If you have a bad dream he will hold you close and whisper sweet nothings in your ears until he knows you drifted off again ⠀

•He loves the feeling of his S/O in his bed next to him he feels a sense of pride ⠀

•He will always wake you up in the morning with something hard pushed into your back⠀

⠀

𝗚𝗿𝗲𝗴𝗼𝗿⠀

⠀

•He will joke you off to sleep telling many stories to make you laugh and once you've dosed off a big smile will splatter across his face ⠀

•He is 100% a switch, loves to spoon you but loves it when your small body spoons him and gives him head scratches and rubs⠀

•If you wake up for what ever reason bad dream feeling sick etc he will cradle you in his arms until your sleeping again⠀

•He is one for getting crumbs in the bed as he loves a snack before he sleeps

⠀

⠀

𝗧𝘂𝗽 ⠀

•He likes to ensure his bun is tight before sleeping as he doesn't like hair all over his face ⠀

•He likes to be the little spoon ALL the time because he has alot of bad dreams and he loves it when you hold him it relaxes him to no end ⠀

•He lays on his back alot and lord does this man snore sometimes you need to slap him to wake him up then he will instantly turn over and hold onto you for dear life as he falls back to sleep⠀

•When he is big spoon he will ghost his fingertips over your curves and admire you as you both fall to sleep ⠀

[ghostwise]

Matacuervos, ch. 2 Introduction to conversational Antivan Read on AO3

The word ‘honeymoon’ was exactly the same in Antivan: luna de miel. This coincidence delighted Hamal, as did the language, which, for all its associations with his beloved, was objectively one full of poetry and art.

Why was a sleeping shrimp a cautionary tale? What did it mean if something was from the year of soup, or fresh as a lettuce? And how could he not admire the way Zevran came alive when speaking Antivan, with all its twists and turns?

He had some time; though the proposal had been spontaneous, the wedding was anything but. There were rings to procure, a chapel to settle on, and assassins to evade. Still, Hamal was in a hurry most unlike him. The mystery of that tongue beckoned him. To learn it was to learn Zevran a little better, so he set about this task immediately.

Numbers and colors first. Days of the week and directions.

Hello, goodbye, please and thank you. Love songs and lullabies. All the vital parts of the language: kiss me, come here, yes.

Terms of endearment captured him the most. He’d already learned some: Amor, corazón, mi vida. Certainly he had many of his own: Ma vhenan, emma lath, mir atish’an. But he liked Zevran’s best, because he heard them so often in that sweet voice, whispered into his ear at market, or amid a flurry of sheets and pillows.

He devoted himself to all this and more.

“You are learning quickly!” Zevran observed, Antiva City far behind them. His smile shone, like the ironbark ring Hamal had gifted him.

“I have a good teacher,” Hamal said simply with a laugh.

Equally thrilling were Zevran’s attempts at speaking Elvhen.

In Zevran’s accent, ma vhenan became something like ven ( which in Antivan meant ‘come here,’ as in, stay with me always), or something like venas (which in Antivan meant ‘veins,’ as in, you are in my blood). As Zevran might say, the interplay of their mother tongues danced.

And when the time came, he said his wedding vows in Antivan.

The process of translating the words from Elvhen to Common, then to Antivan, took he and Zevran the better part of an afternoon—but time moved slower in love, it seemed. Thank the Creators for that. And Zevran had insisted on reciprocating the gift.

In the end they were left with three copies of their wedding vows: one in their respective mother tongues, one in that awkward yet vital bridge of Common, and one in the language of their chosen homes.

A charm, like turning a ring three times to make a wish. Such excess of love and language was like spring after a cold winter.

Such was marriage.

.

Following a quick ceremony in a rural chapel, they vanished into the northern region of the country. They moved quickly, careful not to be tracked—that bloody night in Antiva City remained fresh in both their minds—but their travel involved more pleasure than it did business. They were newlyweds, after all.

There were fruits here that could never grow in Ferelden, sold in little street carts, arranged with such artful skill that it almost seemed a shame to eat them. There were shops selling hand-made sandals and ornate patterned belts, and the smell of the leather damn near made Zevran cry with joy.

Hamal felt he could lose himself in this feeling forever, and with this thought came a startling realization: that Antiva with Zevran felt more like home than Clan Sabrae without Zevran ever could.

He promptly bought Zevran the sword and leather scabbard he’d been admiring.

Every night they went to a different inn, falling into one another; effortless and joyful, the way they fit together, almost like it’d been long-rehearsed. Hamal might whisper something he’d overheard a giggling couple say on the street. Whatever it meant, it caused Zevran to fall back laughing, unable to hide the blush rising to his cheeks.

And every day brought about a new vocabulary lesson so that Hamal could more easily navigate his new home. Over their shared morning coffee, Zevran coached him in important phrases. How to trade, how to ask directions.

“No entiendo. Necesito traducción, por favor.”

“No entendo, nescito…”

“Ne-ce-sito,” Zevran said, elaborating a little. “Like ‘necessity’.”

“Right,” Hamal said, trying again. “Necesito traducción, por favor?”

He’d stumbled through many an awkward translation error, but oh, he tried. It was as much a mark of commitment as the vows they had taken together; as precious the rings that now adorned both their fingers. It was like every word Hamal learned in Antivan translated simply to I do, I do, I do.

“Just like that,” Zevran said, satisfied. “That’s my boy.”

Hamal’s smile pulled at his peeling sunburn, his eyes glinting fiercely with pride.

.

“You know, I grew up near here,” Zevran told him one morning.

He had a map rolled out on the table in front of him. On it were the beginnings of something; a nebulous sketch of the task ahead, a road neither of them knew just yet.

“Did you?” Hamal asked. “Were you born near here?”

“Here, in Rialto,” Zevran said, gesturing. “I lived there before the Crows… acquired me.”

Hamal considered Zevran’s careful choice of words; he knew what he meant, so he didn’t ask for clarification. Instead, he gave him a warm smile, gentle and encouraging.

“I would love to see it, if you’re up to visiting.”

“Perhaps. If we have the time,” Zevran said. “But really, amor , the place means very little to me. I have no childhood home, unless you count the brothel my mother worked at. I had no family there. No friends. None that would remember me, anyway.”

“Still,” Hamal said, “It is your birthplace, vhenan . That alone makes it special. Consider it a sentimental request from your husband?”

The question lingered for a moment, then Zevran rolled up the map quietly. He planted a quick kiss on Hamal’s cheek.

“That, I can do,” he said. “Besides, what better place to continue our investigation into the Crows, than where I first encountered them myself? Perhaps the Crows are still active in Rialto, gathering their recruits the same way they did back then. We ought to investigate.”

“It seems a sound approach,” Hamal murmured. His eyes slid from the map over to Zevran. “So, ma vhenan. Back to business, is it?”

Zevran paused. “Yes. I suppose so.”

That single syllable carried more weight than either of them were prepared for; it heralded the arrival of something unforeseen. A change. An end. Or a beginning.

There was no shame in flinching from it.

Zevran smoothly tossed the map aside, and turned to his husband with a smile.

“For now, let us just enjoy the last day of our honeymoon. What do you say, amor? ”

Hamal laughed. The sound bloomed in Zevran’s chest. But it was settled.

The next day, they departed for Rialto.

[chicinsilk]

US Vogue October 1, 1962

Balenciaga Haute Couture Collection Fall/Winter 1962-63. Dorothy McGowan wears a honey-brown wool double-breasted coat, seven-eighths length, revealing an inch or two of straight black skirt. Matching suede hat.

Balenciaga Collection Haute Couture Automne/Hiver 1962-63. Dorothy McGowan porte un manteau croisé, sept huitièmes de longueur en laine couleur miel, laissant apparaître un pouce ou deux de jupe noire droite. Chapeau en daim assorti.

Photo Bert Stern voguea archive

[effyeffa]

overly specific playlists for overly specific occasions 2024 edition

winter 23/24. dreamy mix of many different genres for when someone asks me hey what have you been listening to lately. old songs new songs happy songs sad songs everything from adrianne lenker to marco castello, a frequent rotation

lover. i definitely did NOT make this one to impress one specific person whose taste matches mine in the most miraculous of ways no no. but we will fall in love listening to beach house

fall for you. have you ever put on mitski i'm your man and leonard cohen i'm your man back to back. no? well here's your chance. and i can tell you more about this world, so much more

tasty tunes. synth-heavy dance tunes, good vibes. la femme, miel de montagne, LA priest etc. dinner party background groove

summer roads. one thing almost all of the tracks in this playlist have in common is that they were at some point featured in a skate vid. many classics (bob dylan, cocteau twins) modern classics (frank ocean, cass mccombs) and timeless jams (daniel johnston, mazzy star)

touch. this one's for lying on a big old sofa with your best friends half asleep drunk on love and too tired to go to bed. rhye, james blake, kevin morby

what's the last four years been about? when jockstrap said. What's it all about. i give you bon iver, i give you angel olsen, i give you fiona apple with the answers. i give you black country new road with the musical equivalent of a greek tragedy. dig in.

springsummer 23. don't recall what kind of headspace i was in for this one but we're feeling a wide range of emotions here. tamino and yo la tengo, andrew bird, dope lemon, king krule. the overarching theme may or may not being hopelessly in love with someone impossible

all the in between. mama you've been on my mind. another lovesick one. lots of oldies with new stuff sprinkles in, a short and sweet moment in time. might have cried to this playlist, or written notes app poetry.

transitional. it's raining and you're gazing out a train window dramatically, there is a sweet nostalgia in this but also darkness, rough around the edges. from amyl and the sniffers to flume, moodswings and movement.