#overlayed with different rock songs

[apollos-boyfriend]

mr mcchill,,,

my favorite conspiracy theorist,,,, there is So Much going on behind those eyes but none of it is coherent

send me a character!

#muse talk #loganprobably #ask game #if u looked inside his mind u would hear every conspiracy theory ever all at once #overlayed with different rock songs #it’s a Mess

[gerogerigaogaigar]

In the wake of the Drake/Kendrick beef its become clear that a lot of people here don't know what hip-hop is and/or don't know how to listen to it. Instead of dunking on people's ignorance I'd like to offer up an educational opportunity. Hip-hop can be difficult to get into if you come from an exclusively white and rock oriented upbringing. It simply listens differently than other popular music and you have to learn how to listen to it. This is honestly true of all music, but white america grows up with modern rock and pop that more or less derive their structure from tin pan alley music of the early 1900's. Hip-hop is a derivative of the 70's disco scene. Disco had an even more dance oriented feel than the funk that it spun off from. And funk was already more rhythm heavy than the Soul and Rhythm & Blues that birthed the funk scene.

Hip-hop is, first and foremost, a black artform and I am not black. So I'm not trying to position myself as a community ambassador or anything, but I do get that there are some barriers that white suburban kids face when it comes to getting into hip-hop. I also know that I am very, very into hip-hop so being a suburban white kid is clearly not an excuse for dismissing an entire artform. And racism isn't something you are it's something you do. So its time to stop talking about Weird Al and Eminem* whenever someone asks if you like rap. Right now it is time to learn how to listen.

*all due respect to eminem, he's actually really good, but we aren't talking about white rappers right now

When listening to rap one of the first things you need to pay attention to is the rapper's flow. A rapper's instrument is their voice, but unlike what you may be used to rap vocals are part of the percussion. In the songs included below, try to listen for how the vocals create a rhythmic counterpoint to the instrumentals. and listen for how rappers use rhyme as well as rhythm to create a pleasing cadence. Don't worry about what they're saying, listen to how they say it.

All Caps We start with All Caps, an absolute beast of a song. MF DOOM meets the frantic energy of the beat with a steady even flow that feels effortless. DOOM interlocks Rhyme schemes and uses matching vowel sounds throughout the verses to create the illusion that he is just dropping thoughts off the top of his head. The maneuver he pulls in the last stanza always blows my mind. making a *pop* sound to onomatopoetically match the vowel sound in pot, got, and snot while also rhyming troubles and bubbles.

A Milli Next up is Lil Wayne. Much like DOOM he can bury rhyme schemes for days, but instead of a smooth even flow he goes in bursts of frantic energy to contrast the very steady beat.

Ultimate Denzel Curry is probably one of the best in the trap scene and Ultimate is an early track where he is nailing the lazy beat, angry delivery thing. his shouted couplets overlay the trilled snare to create a texture that is actually very typical of trap music.

Izzo (H.O.V.A.) Jay-Z has a triumphant tone and a sing-songy cadence to his voice. He tends to match the percussive parts of his raps to the downbeat of the drums and it further emphasizes the strings from the Jackson Five sample and his more melodic lilting.

Bad Character You might notice that Quasimoto sounds... uh... well its Madlib with his voice pitched up. Weirdly Quas has a totally different cadence than Madlib. The timbre of his voice is so distinctive but he raps so casually. It almost feels like he is disconnected from the beat, but he's still right on it. It is a weird quirky atmosphere.

ATliens ATliens is the first song on the list with multiple rappers on it. Big Boi is a master of the straightforward 90's gangsta style while Andre 3000 has a supernatural sense for where he is on the beat that allows him to dodge and weave around it. the two of them work together by giving a back and forth between the extreme steadyness of Big Boi and the extreme wonkiness of Andre 3000.

Protect Ya Neck The Wu-Tang Clan had a lot of members and Protect Ya Neck has all of them on it. It would take forever to explain the different styles of the whole Clan so I'm just gonna let you hear it all yourself. even if you can't tell them all apart it is still pretty easy to tell when they pass the mic.

Ready Or Not Wyclef Jean and Ms. Lauryn Hill are two of the best rappers, and also Pras is here. The interpolation of soul hooks that show off Lauryn Hill's singing skills were standard for the group, but Hill could switch from singing to rapping on a dime. Even when they are rapping there is a sense of soul music underlying their music.

Life's A Bitch Another track with a laid back beat. I couldn't tell you when Nas takes a fucking breath in this song. he just goes and goes. everyone on this is so smooth.

Fix Up, Look Sharp Finally I had to get some really rowdy shit on here. Dizze Rascal's flow is so bombastic. he hits every downbeat as hard as possible and almost drowns out the steady snare-kick beat with his voice alone. Like Jay-Z he is also very sing-songy.

To Be Continued ===> Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part4 | Part 5 | Part 6

#hip hop #kendrick lamar #drake #kendrick drake beef

[m1ssunderstanding]

Get Back Rewatch 55 Years On: Day 14

Who is this talking to Ringo? Press? A boy scruff? Someone who wants their project produced by Apple? He tries George too.

Again, I love the "freak-out" as John calls it. They really could've had so much fun together under different circumstances. (Different being neither of them ever dated John) But John's so sweet saying, "Id like it to be part of her new LP. Our new LP."

I wonder what Robert Fraser thought of the beard.

Why are we playing 20 Flight Rock now, Paul? It's just overlayed over a montage to change "scenes", but I wonder what the real context was.

Billy. What a little ray of sunshine honestly.

"So what should we do that's fun? Besides work?" I feel like every day, John has a little adorable quote, and this is today's. Words to live by.

I don't remember if Get Back includes the "Oh Darling" version where John's answering back between lines in conversation with the lyrics. I sincerely hope so. Peter Jackson was probably like "well I can only include so much homosexuality before people have too many questions."

Ringo, you smooth criminal. I love that he just has this trick he learned as a teenager that the Beatles were all impressed by, back when Ringo was the scary gangster with the car and the beard, and he still does it for them like ten years later. It's so endearing.

Another cute John and Yoko moment: "It's just that screaming all the way." "Poor John." "Yes, it's so terrible." She's teasing him and being sweet to him at the same time. Cuties.

George asks Paul where his Rickenbacker is. "Isn't that one much better?" And Paul makes up some shit about the Hoffner being lighter. You nostalgic little bitch. Poor baby.

John's little guilty look at the camera when he's almost just taken something on film. It's cute. He looks like a naughty kid. But it's kind of a cool moment. It shows just how relaxed and natural he is. He's not performing for or worried about the cameras at all. What we're seeing of him today is just him. You know? Idk I think it's nice.

What's with the little pigeon noises in the middle of a recording, guys? They're so weird smh

Poor Glyn. He's just trying to do his job and he has to deal with fucking Leopold and Leob over here. He gives them some instruction. There's a look between the two of them. And then it's all, "Don't interrupt" "Hey son" "Stahhs when" "Hey" "they're recording. We're bloody Stahhs you know." "Look fuckface. Don't comment." "The cheek." The impenetrable wall of Lennon and McCartney, folks.

"Well, we'll have to do it sitting down. Or we get too excited." It's heartbreaking to me how obvious it is that they're still just having the absolute time of their lives together and that, as John put it, "the minutes are crumbling away."

Literally what the hell is with Dennis smacking Paul's ass (as like a 'good job, your band wants to put your song out as the single' I guess) and nobody reacting? Linda would've been like "ope, time to find a new head of Apple films." (Dave Spinoza on RAM, anyone?) He really does look so proud of himself, though. Happy for you, baby.

Oh, right, that's what Robert thinks. Paul looks like his working class fantasy. (DH Lawrence. Victorian Miner.)

And I'm just going to add this, since Peter Jackson REFUSES. Paul: Can't afford to mess around here, you know. Then

#paul mccartney #the beatles #john lennon #mclennon #ringo starr #george harrison #get back

[chevvy-yates]

CLUB OWNER

Falco ‘Garnet’ Ritter is the owner of the place he named ‘HELL BUNKER’, a location that hosts diverse technoise parties and concerts (but also some other music genres). He’s also the inventor of Chrome Chamber Rave as well as the radio station ‘109.6 HELL BUNKER.FM’.

He has earned himself quite a high cred and respect in the Night City party business as his location and main event is unique compared to other technoise events in the city. His vision simply was to bring European technoise (back) to the NUSA, especially hard tech from his home country Germany. He wants people of Night City to experience that technoise from Europe hits differently than other technoise does, especially the one from Germany (as technoise roots lie there)¹. He’s well known in the underground scene and also appreciated by Maelstroms. He used to be deejay-ing at Totentanz years ago and the location gave him a lot of inspiration for creating HELL BUNKER afterwards. He’s mostly known under the artist name ‘Garnet’² rather than under his real name. So in the first place Garnet is a musician and a business owner. But since he’s got ears and eyes everywhere to keep his club clean he may also have important info for mercs and he’s not easy to fight because of his installed Gorilla arms cyberware. He often acts as a bouncer for his own club. It’s likely to happen that you might get thrown out by him personally if you behave inappropriately. He doesn’t make any excuses. Chrome Chamber Rave especially has strict rules such as a certain dress code you gotta have to wear, otherwise you may not be able to enter.

SET LIST

Garnet still deejays at CCR. His setlist is of course all hard technoise yet he concentrates to mix it with more emotions and a touch of industrial, even some lyrics and tends to venture further than that. Each song is unique to itself and can be a true experience if you are willing to let yourself soaked in and let it touch your soul.

“Technoise may not be able to save the world, but it will save your soul.”

— Falco ‘Garnet’ Ritter

—

Cover artwork by me. Steal and you will be doomed. I‘ve chosen tracks only by one artist named ‘Roman Gehrecke’. This artist is the closest to what I imagine Garnet would produce as well. So I decided to borrow the music for Falco. Of course all the music belongs to Roman Gehrecke! There's one song at the end of it I see as the one that is always played at last so the audience knows ok after that it's done. This song is also not by the artist mentioned above but has a well known melody majority knows.

Recommendation: ‚Gefallene Engel‘, ‚Anderswelt‘, ‚Stimmen der Tiefe‘ and ‚Schutt und Asche‘ – best listened to via headphones and making time for it should you want to try to get soaked into.

———

¹ "Technoise and its various derivations dominate much of the German scene. If you're hip, you already know about Technoise. If not, listen up. Technoise is quite popular with the discerning young punk; it was popularized by Germany's own NetWerk actually, you've got your Overlay style from London, Jazznetic from Rotterdam and Echo from Frankfurt. In addition, there are people producing Frock (Fractal Rock) all over the place. The good thing is, Technoise is quite easy to produce. You only need a small computer, some software and you're ready to buzz. Those of you with a message might miss the political attitude, but you're missing the point. Technoise is strictly for partying, tripping and dancing. People meet and dance up to the runner's point. Maybe that's a political statement in itself, oder?" — Eurosource Plus – The New Eurotheater Sourcebook for Cyberpunk

² Garnet first is a song by my favorite band D'espairsRay I still love to this day (they ain't anything to do with techno). And second a gemstone that has the color of a darkened red, which I also try to give him as a main color theme of his wardrobe (together with black ofc).

#chrome chamber rave #about: garnet #about: chrome chamber rave #Cyberpunk 2078 – Pandemonium #cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk #lore #rave #technoise #I'm so pleased to have created him #he rounds up my thoughts about technoise in the cp universe #so I didn't have to use Ryder for it and Ry can just enjoy go there listen to the music instead <3 #but he's been part of it which I'll post with the next part #Spotify

[darkpoisonouslove]

Trivia Tuesday

Who says Trivia Tuesday is only for written works?

I have been putting this off for 3 months but I wanted to share this compilation of my favorite moments from my Daylight video for Griffin x Valtor and do some commentary on them, talk about the process behind this video.

*I chose to overlay the song from the beginning instead of making you listen to the different segments that go with the footage smashed together in a cacophony. Here's the full video if you want to reference which parts of the song correspond to the respective segments.

There is no reason for me to bring this up other than that in the og video the line "you and I drink the poison from the same vine" just so happens to play while this is going on. I swear that was not on purpose. I chose the vine attack against Valtor because of the dark green glow around the stem which looks like Griffin's magic in order to make this more convincing... and then I realized that this moment happened right as that lyric was playing.

This whole segment starting from Griffin and Faragonda and then switching to Valtor in his lonely tower before Griffin contacts him because she wants to talk to him too and can't tear herself away is just so wistful and nostalgic and the music (especially in the actual video) only adds to that vibe. They're both brooding - out of the daylight - because they despise their obsession with each other but still can't help it.

I especially love that he proceeds to break into Alfea to talk to her and she blasts him with a vortex of books because she sensed his presence (I just didn't include that part in this compilation because then I'd have to post the entire video). It is a headcanon that I've had for a while that because they were partners for so long and the Dragon Fire is the most powerful magic which created the whole universe, Griffin has learned to home in on his magical signature because she can distinguish it from anyone else's.

-- Join me. -- A horrible idea.

I find this moment utterly hilarious. I don't really have anything else to say about it but I guess I can share the process of picking the dialogue for the video. Valtor's lines were easier to pick because they mostly come from a couple of scenes but I had to scour the entire season 1 (aka every scene with Griffin) to figure out which of Griffin's lines can be useful and then I had to piece together actual conversations from them, the one above being my magnum opus.

I simply enjoy the way I made these two different scenes fit together into one to make it look like his whole "teleporting in your chair" shtick happens right in front of Griffin's and the viewer's eyes. This is why I love video editing!

This one! Oh, this was a legendary moment for me! A whole new step in my video making career. I feel like I unlocked a whole new part of my brain when I realized that I could use the mirror effect to showcase Griffin's spell creating her clone. I have never used the mirror effect before and finding such great application for it that adds to the story (because I wasn't sure my idea with the spell was coming through before I came up with this) was certainly a highlight of my video making process.

Kind of on the other end of the spectrum this is here because I wanted to explain that the vortex is the portal that Griffin opens to sneak back to her office and catch Valtor off guard while he's watching her clone. I wasn't sure all of that was clear but I was running out of ideas, mental energy and remaining seconds from the song so I kind of had to speedrun that if I wanted to fit everything in the video.

I thought Valtor deserved a taste of his own medicine (aka payback for the illusion spell he used on Griffin, Faragonda and Saladin at Light Rock lake). Is this scenario realistic? Mayhaps not. But! Griffin used to study under Lysslis with him so she could have picked up some very convincing illusion magic too!

I'm thinking that perhaps I would have been able to provide more insight into the video and my thoughts on it if I had written this back in January when I could still remember the process of making this but it is what it is. I got to talk about it again and rediscover some of the joys that this particular video brought to me which was fun! And now this post works as a throwback to refresh all our memory on my latest efforts in video making before we see where I go from here.

#winx club #griffin x valtor #winx griffin #winx valtor #covenshipping #my video #video #trivia tuesday

[girlreviews]

Review #128: A Night At The Opera, Queen

Growing up in England, Queen and their songs are just part of life. I kind of love thinking about how a tiny little island has so much of its own art, music, and culture, and how when you step away from it you see how quirky and cool it is. Queen and their hits are still on heavy rotation on the radio, get people dancing at parties and big events, and every Millennial has probably seen the We Will Rock You musical 20 times.

So how is it that I had never actually listened to a single Queen album from start to finish? I since learned I am far from alone on this. Most of us haven’t! It makes sense. Everyone has the Greatest Hits album, and that’s what they know.

I was DELIGHTED by A Night At The Opera. Queen in their truest form, the most British sounding record ever. Lazing On A Sunday Afternoon is silly, whimsical, operatic, has a Kinks vibe, and lets you appreciate the harmonizing ooooohs and aaaahs that are signature.

Every song has its own persona and they’re all really different, but you can hear how they informed later Queen — the rhythm in ‘39 reminds me of Fat Bottom Girls. It’s different but it is just a glimpse into future paths of future songs. It’s the kick drum I think. It’s also completely beautiful, folky, gentle and whistful. But like they do, they overlay their melodic solos and the rich backing vocals so you end up with what sounds like Simon & Garfunkel if they got stuck at a pub lock in and forgot they were American.

Guitars and their solos sound like they are singing, answering the vocal melody. They really just weave between lighthearted and snarling serious. There is an entire song that is really big and brash that’s literally a love letter to a car. I really feel that, even though I drive a Prius hatchback. I AM in love with my car, and finally a song exists that acknowledges that love. Okay the song has existed since 1975, but I didn’t know that. I’m a late adopter I guess. In this track Freddie is singing about breaking up with his girlfriend so he can be in love with his car. I’m sort of inspired by the idea that one can be complete with nothing more than the freedom and autonomy of a car. It’s tongue in cheek for sure but that’s what’s beautiful about music — it can mean anything to anyone. I can listen to it sincerely if I want to.

You’re My Best Friend is still so sweet, and musically wonderful. What better way to express love and gratitude to someone than by a song in which you tell someone “you make me live”. I love it. It’s charming. It’s such a simple but deep sentiment.

I can’t help but hear The Kinks in these more whimsical songs, like Seaside Rendezvous, it’s the tinkery piano, the vocal effects, I swear this song actually DOES feature a kazoo or something similar. It’s got big Victorian seaside holiday energy. I can’t imagine that’s not what they were going for. It’s so British. It’s so unique. It’s so much more complicated than you initially hear. There’s so much to unpack in every song.

Okay, so Bohemian Rhapsody came to us via this record. Most of us heard it later when it was re-released and popularized by Wayne’s World in the 90s. Obviously it’s iconic and that’s why my mother and her girlfriends went out one night and on the way home Bohemian Rhapsody came on the radio. They got pulled over and questioned about their sobriety because they were witnessed recreating the scene in the car with Wayne and Garth. They were just rocking out.

I heard Bohemian Rhapsody REALLY young. I have vivid memories of sitting in the backseat hearing it and just being totally moved by it. I realize now it’s mostly because I heard it and understood it to be true and autobiographical. I sat and despaired that Freddie Mercury’s mother killed a man and now he’s gone and thrown it all away. I was so sad. I thought it was all true and happened. I got teary-eyed whenever it came on. I was a very sensitive child, if you couldn’t tell, and it wasn’t unusual for me to be moved to tears by music and words, even when I was tiny. That hasn’t changed much, either. I often wonder or wish that I could experience this song through someone else’s ears. What might they notice that I don’t? How might they feel?

I have a friend that shares my love of just going for a drive for no reason to look around and get lost. We often stick Bohemian Rhapsody on to lift our spirits and snap us out of a funk. It’s all the things and covers all emotions. It’s genuinely a journey, and honestly the entire record leading up to it is a journey too. Literally, like a night out at the opera.

#album review #music #music review #rolling stone top 500 #queen #a night at the opera #freddie mercury

[lunaremy]

favorite thing about them

he's really fun and high energy, and when you look at it closely he's really just like a little son. He's just kind of weird and it's adorable!

least favorite thing about them

For some odd reason, I don't have one? His character is surprisingly strong

favorite line

either that one time during planet technopolis where he threatened to beat magnet (presumably like 4 years younger than him at the most) up or the fact that 30% of the time you kill him he screams so fucking loud and it's hillarious if not scary as heck at first because it just sounds like they blew the voice actor up in real life

brOTP

literal bros as in brothers again, but Red and White get along really well and as a writer it's adorable to see a less harsh side of Red whenever he's looking up to White. As a duo they're really funny and work surprisingly well. Also with him and Magnet, but the friendship part comes from them being "rivals" if anything, but i'm not too sure how to describe it other than it's fascinating. On another note, regarding that "writer" part, the same philosophy applies to Red and Aqua so it's fun whenever they get along. Especially since it can be seen that Red is acting like a good sibling, in a manner similar to White

OTP

Can't really see one.

nOTP

self explanatory

random headcanon

He and Pink watch the same TV shows, but have vastly different philosophies about what's going on in the shows, so it just sounds like they're both talking about nonsense if one were to observe them having watch parties together. And then Pretty gets involved (intended to watch more a serious ya show with Pink but then got wrapped up in fucking yugioh or whatever) and the whole thing sounds like they're arguing but they're actually having loads of fun

unpopular opinion

idk............ idk. Sometimes i think he should just be allowed to blow shit up i bet if white had sicced him on buggler as soon as he was born the entirety of r1 would've never happened

song i associate with them

something that came to mind was a weird tune on my phone where it was a hard-rock fast paced guitar solo, but it was shittily overlayed with the "BUNS KETCHUP PICKLE CHEESE" song from teen titans go. that's him when he cook burger with famil. It's not on my laptop so i'll show you later.

favorite picture of them

weird son that loves to eat tree bark (affectionate)

#bomberman #super bomberman r #red bomber

[deep-hearts-core]

1998

This should be an interesting one. Since 1999 was the first year without the orchestra and the language rule, 1998 is going to look and sound VERY different from the contests I'm used to.

Croatia Classic costume change and classic Balkan ballad. Danijela has very good control over her voice, but the staging (specifically her hand movements, but also that one long shot) was sort of awkward. She looked and felt out of place on that stage, especially in the black outfit. Melody also seemed... not simple, but overly familiar? To me it felt like it was composed out of bits of other songs that I know and can't remember and that put me off a little bit. But not in a formulaic way. I dunno.

Greece Forgettable but not unenjoyable rock song. I don't like her voice nearly as much though.

France Loving the chill vibes here and Marie is fun to watch. I really liked the verses in this. Good stage presentation - although, I don't know if she was sick or just has a naturally raspy voice but something seemed slightly off about her singing.

Spain This man is like... if a classic rom-com protagonist with a boombox was sopping wet pathetic and also John Green. Not a bad song. I like the sentiment I suppose. There's this extremely 1990s thing going on with the synths that I'm not crazy about.

Switzerland Twee ending is twee but otherwise I really like this song. I fuck with the violin and Gunvor sounds good and she looks good in that dress (in the long shots. In the closer shots I keep getting distracted because it looks like she just wore a bra onstage). However. Those backup dancers needed to chill. Specifically there's this shoulder shrug thing they do right at the beginning that just does not fit the vibes and it BOTHERED me.

Slovakia Good to know that the terrible VFX overlays have been around for 25+ years. Thanks Slovakia, hated that. It's a beautiful language and the song was pretty enough, if not all that engaging, so it's a shame that parts of it were too low for Kristina. She had to whisper the first two notes of this one repeating phrase which sounded just a little creepy.

Poland This had a really strong opening and honestly I do like this song a lot but the lead singer just isn't bringing it vocally. She's not bad. I just don't think that head voice as a register really works here. It makes the song seem low-energy and her tone quality seem just the littlest bit shrill.

Israel I think this win was deserved. I don't really like the nasally tq that Dana has, but she's a good performer. Like a lot of other high ranking songs from this era, I don't think I've ever heard this song in full before, but the verses hold up to the chorus and everything feels consistent with the greater idea of the song. Good use of the background lights. And, also, shoutouts to the backing singers. They sounded good and the sound mixing for them was done really well... which, in Eurovision, is not always easy...

Germany "German Austin Powers runs into the audience, caresses several men, climbs onto the side stage" is something that I should hate, but I kind of love it. Like fuck this guy but also fuck, this guy! The whole thing with the cowbells was also very funny. Love a good Stefan Raab song.

Malta Chiara is such a good singer. Like she just sounds good and satisfying everywhere in the song no matter the volume, emotion, or register. WHICH IS WHY IT'S A DAMN SHAME THAT THIS SONG BORES ME TO TEARS. If you have a good singer (and good staging), give her a good song and maybe an actually attractive dress, cmon Malta I know you can do it she looked so good in 2005.

Hungary It just doesn't do it for me. IDK.

Slovenia This one too. It really didn't capture my attention. Although better than Hungary, I think.

Ireland Not bad. Clearly following on from Katrina and the Waves. I wasn't expecting her to have such a deep voice, but she sounds pretty good! Lol at the completely abandoned keyboard just sitting on the stage though.

Portugal I love the instrumentation here. The song is cute but the vocals and the way it draws back during the sung portions is less fun than the bits where it's just the bagpipes and the guitar.

Romania Malina doesn't come into herself here until that high note. It's an OK song but she's too quiet for it and the staging is too simple.

UK This is fun, I'm into it. Not my favorite by any means and not particularly a standout but it's good.

Cyprus I really enjoy how anthemic that chorus is. The backup singers were also used really well, in a way that made them sound like a full choir rather than five people.

Netherlands Queen Edsilia! Sounds good looks good feels good. No notes.

Sweden I'm not sold on it. She sounds ok I guess, but isn't she a country singer? I feel like maybe I would have been more into it if they'd sent her in a genre she did more? Iunno.

Belgium She's so cute and the whole package just comes together. Not usually my sort of song, but after the run of mostly boring songs I'm so refreshed by how much I enjoy this.

Finland I will be honest, I don't fully know what's going on here and I don't know how I feel about it.

Norway Cute. I like the vibes on this guy, how the camerawork incorporates the live orchestra, and the color scheme.

Estonia For some reason was not expecting this to be a piano ballad, but it's good.

Turkey Looks nice sounds nice. At this point my attention has started to wane quite a bit so unless it's super good or super bad I don't have much to say.

FYROM Wasn't expecting to like it, I don't hate it! Not the worst debut they could have had.

My top 25 1)France 2)Netherlands 3)Belgium 4)Germany 5)Switzerland 6)Ireland 7)Spain 8)Norway 9)Israel 10)Cyprus 11)Portugal 12)Estonia 13)Poland 14)Malta 15)Croatia 16)FYROM 17)Turkey 18)UK 19)Sweden 20)Slovakia 21)Slovenia 22)Romania 23)Greece 24)Hungary 25)Finland

Miscellaneous Thoughts that first interval act is such a colonial project. i think all the people angsting about how uk-heavy this year's hosting was should go back and watch eurovision 1998. "ok, we're going to explain the tiebreak rules" *proceeds to have the most competitive voting sequence of any eurovision i've ever watched*. i don't think they have explained the tiebreak rules on air since then, maybe not even when voting systems changed and the tiebreak rules also changed. it's giving the abba video they showed right before sweden swept the juries in 2023. a bit confused by the 2 separate voting graphics used, where one is a map and the other is the scoreboard with the winning country's flag waving. similar designs were also used in '99 and i was curious about it then too. my suspicion is that the map graphic is displayed while they reorganize the scoreboard to show standing order instead of running order but i'm not 1000% certain about that. good to know that greece and cyprus really have been exchanging douze since the dawn of time, especially considering that the crowd anticipated both of those douzes lmao nah, but like. this was such a strong year and it was so quintessentially chaotic and eurovision. the predictable douzes, the close voting, no one being able to find dana for like five minutes after the announcement. terry wogan was actually integrated into the hosting well, which graham norton was... not. i love it. this is one i'd love to watch again or recommend to people who haven't seen older contests before.

#esc reviews

[groovesnjams]

“Simulation Swarm” by Big Thief

MG:

I’m somewhat proud that Grooves N Jams has avoided Big Thief as long as we have, especially because in my limited self-awareness I always knew that -- let’s face it -- it was going to be my fault when we eventually succumbed and, look, here we are! There is so much I really almost despise about this band; they are abject to me, they are the film forming on a glass of milk in my mind and they are that same glass of milk curdling in my stomach. I hate Adrienne Lenker’s soft, passive, baby voice. I hate the way the folky, picked guitars on “Simulation Swarm” burble up like vomit from my mouth as my consciousness hovers somewhere above my trembling body. But I won’t belie the point: I love this song. How could I not? It provokes such a passionate emotional response from me.

Though my obsession was fomenting well before they released their list, Pitchfork recently compared the group to Dave Matthews Band (maybe the band has faced this comparison before) and that resonates. As a tween, DMB haunted me like the blood on Lady Macbeth’s hands -- if “Ants Marching” is so terrible (and on some plane of reality, yes, it is) then why does my body thrill to hear it? In retrospect, an as an adult, I can hear how “Ants Marching” is kids’ music. It’s busy and alive and constantly surging toward explosion. There’s a fucking fiddle solo, what was I supposed to do? “Simulation Swarm,” however, sounds much more obviously like “Satellite:” mannered, pirouetting, mature. I could basically tune “Satellite” out. In many ways, my inability to tune “Simulation Swarm” out any longer feels like some kind of long suppressed horror refusing to be denied.

Part of its allure is the constant, largely idiosyncratic and nonsensical stream of babble. I like to overlay my own idiosyncratic and nonsensical stream of babble, but when I pay close attention to lines like “You believe, I believe, too, that you are the river of light” I can see there’s really no need. Big Thief get it -- replacing full, robust thoughts layered through intrinsic meaning and extrinsic definition with vibes and mythology and aesthetics. But the line that really gets me, the line that keeps “Simulation Swarm” spinning on tilt, is quite simple: once again. How to ever get off a ride that voluntarily restarts mid-run? This song is a trap.

DV:

“Milk” is a perfect comparison for Big Thief’s brand of indie rock: I was force-fed it as a kid, spent years trying to make my peace with it by experimenting with different varieties and brands, and as an adult finally realized I had a lactose allergy. “Simulation Swarm” is a guitar figure in search of a hook in search of a melody: it’s four minutes that feel like twenty. It’s background music for running your blender to make a protein shake or your sink’s disposal to churn your uneaten food into sewer-friendly slurry (I am assuming no one listens to Big Thief outside of the USA, despite their repeated attempts to perform in an apartheid state.) I appreciate MG’s struggle with this bad song but do not share it, which admittedly may be because I’ve never heard “Satellite” before today. Someone please let me know when Big Thief try rewriting Vertical Horizon, and that’ll be my cue to grapple with what it all means.

#big thief #simulation swarm #adult contemporary #dave matthews band #remember when dave poured literal shit onto people in the chicago river #anyway vertical horizon did have bangers #music

[cutielatias]

🎆Músicas de 2023🎇

Hot wings(I wanna party)(sped up/slowed)(layalaya loop overlay)

E.T (cover by Everyone dies in Utah)

Sweetest poison (by Nu Pagadi)

Gladiator (by RaVaughn Brown)

Lollipop (candyman) (by Aqua)

Balkanize (by Tzusing)

Can't remember to forget you (cover by Midnight red)

(Don't fear) the reaper (by Blue Oyster)

Broke my car radio (slowed+reverb) (by Ericdoa)

Strong Enough (Bratz soundtrack)

Catch my breath (slowed & reverb) (by Kelly Clarkson)

Kiss Kiss (by Holly Valance)

When Did your heart go missing? (by Rooney)

Work it (Barbie Big City Big Dreams soundtrack)

Hey,Mickey! (by Baby Tate)

Casual Sex (by Darkest days)

Time Bomb (by All Time Low)

A Different side of me (by Allstar weekend)

Mr. Wonderful (by Allstar weekend)

Uniform (normal/instrumental) (by Bloc Party)

Go gyal (by Ahzee)

Alone (by Offer Nissim)

Se ela dança eu danço(DJ Lívia Drum remix) (by MC Leozinho)

Pra me provocar (by MC Koringa)

Girlfriend (by Hemlocke Springs)

Jenny (by The Click Five)

If you can't hang (by Sleeping with sirens)

Automotivo Super Mario World 2 (by DJ NK3)

Amber (by 311)

Under the influence(slowed/normal) (by Chris Brown)

S.O.S (Let the music play) (by Jordin Sparks)

Whirring (by The Joy Formidable)

Camera shy (by School Boy Humor)

Mary (by Alex G)

Why can't I (by Liz Phair)

Kiss me again (by ROY BEE)

Sueño Nikté (Nikté soundtrack)

Mr Loverboy (by Little Mix)

From zero to hero (by Sarah Connor)

Les z'anges (by Soan)

The boys are back (High School Musical 3 soundtrack)

Kiss Kiss Bang Bang (by Paddock Park)

Only boy (in the world) (cover by Kevin Vasquez)

Hippo Grotto (v2) (Madagascar 2 game soundtrack)

L'Étoile D'afrique-#18 (normal/slowed/sped up) (by VDYCD)

You make me sick (by Pink)

Kugutsu (by Tsukiko amano)

Make you Love me (by Kaci Brown)

Tragic on the dancefloor (by Girl Friend)

Poison (by Girl Friend)

Bed Love (by Mario)

Destruir tudo de novo (by Dead Fish)

To tell you the truth (by Written by Wolves)

Self Love (by Metro Boomin)

Because the Night (Live Unplugged) (by 10,000 Maniacs)

Keep it Rolling (by Bloc Party)

Close To the Mirror (by Sylvain Lux)

Party Addict x Hotel room service (mashup)

I'II Do it (sped up/normal) (by Ayesha Erotica)

Alejandro (Rock cover by Helia)

Party Addict(sped up/slowed/normal) (by Kets4eki)

Chinatown (by Wild Nothing)

Gimme More (Jiafei ft Cupcakke version)

Unknown song "everybody knows that"

Cannibal love (by Horrormovies)

Ta Ta Ta (sped up/normal) (by Bayanni)

Hands Up! X Hey Baby (mashup) (sped up)

P.U.N.K. Girl (by Heavenly)

Mona Lisa (by Dominic Fike)

Distracted (by Honey Revenge)

Waste my time (by Girl Friend)

Fate (by Shiro Sagisu)

SHAKE THAT SHIT! (sped up/slowed/normal) (by Jnhygs)

More than friends (slowed+reverb/normal) (by INNA)

Jerk! (Sped up+reverb/slowed/normal) (by Jnhygs)

You & Me (by 6earlyhuman)

Ifeelsick (by Dion Dugas)

La canción de Alicia/Under the stars (lost media song)(both original version/cover by Richardvox)

Wine Pon You(normal/speed up) (by Doja Cat)

Can't remember to forget you (Acoustic cover by Siren Jean)

Moonlight (by Kali Uchis)

Calling (by Metro Boomin)

Bad Boy (KYANU Mix) (by Cascada)

Table For Two (by Nicole)

Back from the dead (by Skillet)

Undefeatable (Sonic Frontiers ost)

Sleepwalker (slowed) (by Akiaura)

Shinigami eyes (by Grimes)

Chammak challo (by Ra.One)

Me and my husband (by Mitski)

Met her on the internet (instrumental) (by Kempachii)

Look don't touch(normal/sped up/slowed) (by Odetari)

Sins (let me in) (by Kanii)

We Found Love (Glee Cast version)

L'Art Du Savoir (slowed/normal) (by VDYCD)

Sway (by Vanessa Carlton)

FASHION (by Britney Manson)

Say yes to heaven (by Lana del Rey)

High Life (by Bloc Party)

You're too slow (by Odetari)

Right side of the bed (by Atreyu)

Draw me Inside (by Skillet)

Not Tomorrow (Silent Hill soundtrack)

Wishful Thinking (Silent Hill 2 soundtrack)

Ecstacy (remix) (by Suicidal-Idol)

Himno Potaxie/ Ye Hua Xiang (by Jiafei)

Cry Baby (by Heidi)

Yutopia (by Heidi)

Suisou (by Heidi)

Dom Perignon (SATOMIC REMIX) (by Poshlaya molly)

Dumebi (by Rema)

If it's lovin on your mind (by Spice Girls)

How long (by Paula Toledo)

Hayyoda (by Anirudh Ravichander, Priya Mali)

As lovers Go (by Dashboard Confessional)

Donkey Kong Country 2- Bramble Blast x Hatsune miku

Life imitates life (by Quannic)

E.T. (Prismatic World Tour Instrumental with backing vocals)

Because of you (by Ne-Yo)

Not Responsible (slowed/speed up) (by Amon)

Get Back x 4 minutes (mashup)

Emily Brown (by Alice)

Miss Your Touch (by Cassie)

#provavelmente eu vou adicionar mais coisas/botar as tags mas por enquanto vai ficar assim

[flutternozzle]

downloaded an album of rare phase 1 gorillaz songs earlier, and the majority of it was stuff i was aware of and had been looking for.. but there was also some stuff i'd never heard of before, and looking it seems like it's a mix of genuine rare tracks i just didn't know abt and.. fan-made tracks being passed off as legit 🤔

some of the strange stuff so far is..

"intro" - not "intro" from demon days, and not a proper track as much as atmospheric music with some voice clips and sound effects overlayed?? i took a guess that it was probably the intro sequence from the "celebrity take down" dvd, and it looks like i was right 😆 so a cool lil thing, but not rly a track as such!!

"5/4 (bbc radio 1 demo)" - the track i downloaded was listed as a demo, but it's actually this version of the song from a radio 1 live session - still a rly cool version tho!!

"m1a1 (early mix)" - getting into more dubious territory now.. supposedly an early mix of "m1a1" but i'm p sure it's just a fanmade edit, with more of the "day of the dead" opening theme (which the actual song does sample) poorly slapped on to the start of m1a1, and not a real gorillaz song 😅

"rock the house (phi life cypher version)" - i can't find the version i downloaded on youtube, so that's a link to the "live from the forum, 2001" recording of the song. the version i have is obviously the vocals from a different live performance poorly slapped over the instrumental of the album version of "rock the house" and it sounds awful 😭 from what i can find, this phi life cypher version of the song was only ever performed live, and there's no actual studio version of it 🤔

everything else i got i'm p sure is legit, i might make another post talking abt it at some point ^_^

[nwdsc]

(▶︎ Come Back To Me, But Lightly | L.T. Leif | Lost Map Recordsから)

Come Back To Me, But Lightly by L.T. Leif

ALBUM OUT 27TH JANUARY 2023 An adopted member of the Scottish DIY music scene whose life and art has been heavily shaped by northern landscapes and climes, L.T. Leif is rooted in the self-sufficient spirit of the Canadian prairies, and carries with them the indelible experience of spells spent living in Iceland and Finland. Leif has been involved in many bands and projects, first entering the scene with Calgary orchestral pop sweethearts The Consonant C. Since the group disbanded in 2011, Leif has explored many configurations and approaches, from experimental noise collaborations with the infamous Bug Incision crew to playing sold-out shows with the punk-hearted OK JAZZ, drumming with slacker-rock bands (Hex Ray and Hungry Freaks), playing synths with Matt Swann (of Astral Swanns), and singing in a witch choir (Hermitess). Leif’s admirers include K Records maestro Calvin Johnson (they toured together with The Believer Magazine). Demoed in a room on Glasgow’s Great Western Road and built intercontinentally with contributions both remote and in-person from pals near and far including Clea Anaïs, Bill Wells, Matt Swann, eagleowl’s Clarissa Cheong and Bart Owl, Faith Eliott and Mark Hamilton (Woodpigeon), Come Back To Me, But Lightly is a magical collection of sensually sylvan songs about “the body, loss as a decision, and knowing your own desire as a radical act,” says Leif. “It has a lot of imagery and thought from the northern places I’ve been living, and takes inspiration from minimalist writers, painters, and thinkers. This album comes from a six-year long space of change, from a life I was living as someone afraid of my own brain and body, into someone a lot more openly unshiney. Painful and seeping. I think that distance and decisions and loss and conflict are all things that can birth you into a different kind of being.” About the first single from the album ‘No Birds’, Leif writes: “I read once that some of the hardest and most valuable work to be done under capitalism is in wanting what you want to want [I first encountered this in Jenny Odell’s How to Do Nothing, an excellent anti-capitalist book about the attention economy]. The forthcoming album is about the blazing sun, and about changing my life completely! And this song came from the first edge of it, when I was starting to see what it was that I wanted: the dual realities of what is already and what is desired instead, overlayed like the hands of a ghost. It’s a kind of infidelity towards the life you’re living and its surrounding culture, even when beloved, when you begin to imagine something differently: that fresh day slipping out past the curtain. “The tension here comes from how what I was imagining didn’t exist yet within the culture I was living in, how even if I could see it there clearly as an option, people all around me were confidently denying it. I don’t think I knew exactly what it was that I wanted yet, but I could see it there, glimmering! The flashlight of desire. “All that wanting helps you choose what you let become real. This song is a treatise towards the shimmery possibilities we feel in there from time to time, when they are different from what’s been handed down to us. The cover image is of the beloved hands of a long-term partner, taken when our lives were entwined, but the wrong ones for both of us, before I moved away and built a new kind of life.” クレジット2022年12月27日リリース

#2212 #RC

[gopeachllama]

Cuban Cigars and Cardinal Kisses

a.n/: ... ok in my defense, its still nessian month somewhere....

This fic was inspired by the mv of suit & tie by justin timberlake (the source of this AMAZING gif). its honestly one of my favourite mvs of all time. i watched again recently and it just screamed nessian to me so i wrote this. if you wanna get into the vibesTM of the fic then i highly recommend watching the mv before you read it!

reblogs and comment are highly appreciated!

Fandom: A Court Thorns and Rose by Sarah J Maas

Relationship: Nesta Archeron & Cassain

Warnings: Explicit sexual content

Word Count: 5500

Ao3

~~~

Like most other nights at Velaris Lounge, there was already a drink waiting for the man at his arrival. Picked from their finest, and most expensive collection; a finger of Lagavulin’s sixteen years-old single malt scotch whiskey in a crystal tumbler, as so directed by the gentleman. Cassian Khan, six feet and two inches of fine grooming and tailored suit, strode inside through the exclusive entrance way. Liquor in hand, he stood for a moment, lazily scanning the scene before him with deep inhale. He welcomed the soft ambience lighting, the sharp scent of spiced tobacco smoke and the quiet chatter of wealthy men and women overlayed by the sensual drawl of jazz instruments. Cassian’s blood thrummed in time with the low rhythmic thump of the bass. Day light did not reach this place. The place where night – its sole ruler – became something wholly living, pulsating, breathing. This was Cassian’s home. His fucking castle. Sending a roguish smile and a wink to the waitress still standing-by, he headed for his preferred seat by the foot of the stage.

He spotted Rhysand before he sat down. His childhood friend was draped elegantly over his throne of cushioned velvet, one leg crossed over the other, and taking long drags from the joint between his lips. Wicked delight glinted in Rhys’ dark eyes as he watched his friend unbutton his jacket and drop into his own lounge chair across from him. There were no strobe lights directly over the area where they sat; the darkness surrounding Rhys wore him just as finely as his thousand-dollar suit.

Rhys picked up his own, amber-coloured drink and tipped it in Cassian’s direction, “brother,” He greeted. Opaque slivers of smoke curled out and around his teeth and dissolved into the air as he spoke. “Just in time.”

So, it seemed. Their other friend, Azriel, was nowhere to be seen. Cassian’s gestures mirrored Rhys’ as he toasted his friend and took sip from his drink. The liquor ran down his throat, smooth as honey, and he sprawled against the back of his seat. He reached into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and fished out two slim packages, handing one to Rhys and working on the other. Once the plastic wrapping was removed, he brought it to his faced and dragged the length of it under his nose as he inhaled. The aroma of spice and rich wood flooded his senses and he let out a low, satisfied hum. With an eager smirk, Cassian prepared the crisp Cuban Montecristo No.2 with sturdy, brown fingers. When he was done, he raised the lit cigar to his mouth and took a deep breath. Coating his tongue, expanding his lungs, and coursing through his veins, he allowed the heady fumes to fill him. And he came alive.

Cassian scrutinised his companion through the tendrils of smoke as he exhaled, “looking a little eager tonight, Rhys. A special night?”

“Isn’t it always?” Rhys drawled as he watched the sinuous bodies on stage from the corner of his eye.

Cassian couldn’t argue with that. Nights at Velaris Lounge seemed to exist in an entirely different space and time.

Cassian and Rhys’ continued talking, and there was no shortage of subject matters, with Cassian being the head of security for Rhys’ company. They usually avoided mixing work and pleasure, though Rhys’ often proclaimed that both could be the same thing under the right circumstances. Cassian was inclined to agree.

Soon, the conversation was swallowed up by a lull in the music and a dim of the lights. Cassian readied himself by settling further into his chair. The music quickened in tempo, and anticipation charged through air as trumpets beckoned the start of the performance. His arrival was announced through the speakers, in a sweeping, grandiose declaration.

His best friend since childhood, and the remaining member of their trio; Azriel glided onto centre-stage with hard forged confidence. A lit joint in one hand, and a crystal tumbler in the other, Azriel sang. Smoothing, melodic sounds as he moved around the mic stand with loose limbs and an easy smile on his face. It always warmed Cassian, seeing his friend like that. Seeing how he changed when he was on his stage. So different to the man he was outside of this place. To how he used to be. It was a gentle, endearing reminder to Cassian, of their struggles, their triumphs. Of how far they’ve come – how far he’scome and never looked back.

The bass thrummed, trumpets shrilled, and drums pounded. The timbre of Azriel’s voice streamed effortlessly alongside the various overlaying pitches of the backup singers. The song was all jazzy and funky at the same time, that had Cassian idly tapping his foot in time with the beat. This performance was unfamiliar to his ears. Usually, Azriel made the effort to rehearse his potential performances with his brothers present. And though this wasn’t the first time, it still occurred rarely enough that it had him slightly arching his eyebrows up in surprise.

Before he could think anything more of it, the tempo of the music changed, lowering in pitch and slowing to a steady beat, the rhythmic thump of the bass vibrated the ground at his very feet. The lights flashed before going out completely, blanketing everything under darkness. There was a charge of bated breath in the air, but Cassian was never afraid of the dark. Blood thrummed through his veins in anticipation.

A single spotlight turned on and landed on centre stage. Revealing Azriel’s silent retreat, as if he had melted into the very shadows. But she stood there, in his place. Cassian’s breath hitched at the unfamiliar figure. Burnished gold hair spilling down her back, long legs clad in thigh-high stockings and stiletto heels. And black laced lingerie, covering across her generous breasts, her perky ass, and a garter belt strung around her at the dips of her waist. Piercing steel-grey eyes.

She stood for a breath. One, two, three. And then shemoved.

Cassian catalogued it all. Every flick of her fingers, every sway of her hips, every arch of her back. The gleam of her pearly-white teeth anytime she smiled just wide enough. And Cassian knew, that even when this was all over, she would continue to haunt him every time he closed his eyes.

The pale strobe light casted over her in black and white. Highlighting the curves of her body, with shadows mingling in every dip. The valley of her breast, the ridge down the middle of her toned, flat stomach, the notches of her spine. Cassian felt the phantom press of marble on the tips of his fingers, and they flexed uselessly on the arm of his chair. He wondered if it would feel just as cold if he caressed her unblemished skin. Every now and then, her skin would shimmer; it was beads of moisture that got caught under the spotlight. Perhaps it was droplets of her perfume, that he could smell the barest hints of this close to the stage. Or maybe it was her sweat. Cassian couldn’t tell the difference with the scent. Not that he cared one single bit.

He blinked, and in the next moment, she was on the ground, hands and knees on either side of the turned over mic stand. She dipped low, her cleavage only a breath away from the cool surface of the stage. Then, she reached down her body, and thrusted the mic stand through her splayed open legs. Cassian bit down on an audible groan. She was steel forged in fire and melded under the steady beat of a synth bass drum. It was a brutal, devastating kind of beauty. Cassian may have been a little bit in love. And undeniably rock-fucking-hard in his pants.

In on final turn, she was on her back and propped up on an elbow. Then, so slowly, in time with the bass, much like his own thundering heartbeat, she raised one leg. It stopped for a beat when it was perpendicular to the ground. And she waited, like she knew there was not a single breath being drawn in the room. Like she knew all eyes were latched onto her. The movement was slower, again, when it continued. She stretched herself, and Cassian lost the battle to look away from the thin strip of black lace nestled between her thighs. Her leg eventually rested on her shoulder, held there with a single finger twirled around the heel of her stiletto. The music dropped out completely, and silence consumed the Lounge. The air went heavy, a tangible taste in Cassian’s mouth. And then she tipped her head back, hair flowing to the floor in golden waves, and basking the length of her neck to the single spotlight above. The corners of her mouth curled, oh so slowly. Her cardinal red lips standing out on her pale skin, like blood spilt on pristine marble. She smiled, shamelessly, secretly. The sight of her wide open to the patrons of the Lounge and filthy promise stained on her lips; so debauched, Cassian could hear Rhys shifting in his seat breaking through the silence. He felt the burn in his lungs from the lack of air, but he didn’t dare to move in the slightest. Afraid he would shatter the moment completely. But before Cassian could think to greedily take in every inch of her, the stages plunged into darkness once again. And when light returned, she was gone, and Azriel was there. The mic stand up righted, and a casting knowing smirk. At him.

The music went back to its previous tempo, as strobe lights flashed and soft chatter resumed within the audience. But it was all a dull noise in his ears.

“Who is she?” Cassian sounded a little breathless.

Rhys continued to watch the space she had just vacated. “She showed up a week ago, asking for a job. We told her that we weren’t looking for any new dancers… And she just stripped right there, down to her under-things and started moving. She didn’t even wait for the band,” He turned back to Cassian, and that wicked smile was back in full force, “Az hired her before she even finished her piece.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about her?” There was a slight edge in his voice, but Cassian never got his answer. The music ebbed, cueing the end of Azriel’s performance. As usual, He didn’t linger for the moderate applause. Grabbing a glass of liquor off a tray waiting for him at the base of the stage, he stepped off, and headed straight for his two friends.

“Spectacular as always, Az,” Rhys remarked as Azriel loosened his tie and dropped into the remaining empty seat. Cassian saluted the arrival his friend with a tip of his drink in his direction before upending in one swig and signalling for another one. He pulled out a fresh, new Cuban from his pocket and passed it to Azriel. The latter knowingly took his time. Getting it ready with deft, scarred fingers before finally bringing it up to his lips before, again, taking a slow drag from it. Cassian’s whole body thrummed with question; the words mingled on his tongue along with the sharp aftertaste of expensive whiskey. But Azriel beat him to it.

“So, Cass. How do you like your birthday present?” flicking an eyebrow upwards, he smirked around the cigar propped in the corner of his mouth.

Cassian tensed and waited a moment, carefully choosing his words. “My birthday is in July, jackass.” But Cassian was never the careful type.

Rhys gave a short laughed before replying, “we’ll take that as a thank you.”

“Hello, boys,” A sweet voice came from behind Cassian’s ear. It was once of their long-time waitstaff-turned-dancers. A gorgeous, lithe, little thing. Dressed in sleek, black slacks and a sheer-laced bralette. And even though they smiled politely at both Cassian and Azriel, and placed a new drink in front of the former, Cassian knew the real reason for their appearance.

“Doll,” strobe lights glittered in Rhys’ eyes as he reached for their hand and pressed a kiss onto delicate fingers, “you were absolutely exquisite tonight.”

The dancer melted as they dropped into the space under the man’s arm. And even Cassian marvelled at the way the ambient light made their black skin glow like obsidian.

Azriel sent a soft smile in their direction, “Tarquin,” he greeted with a slight nod. They went to answer, but words were all for naught when Rhys began ghosting his lips along the crook of their neck and shoulder.

Cassian went back to the important matter at hand, “her name?”

Toying with the lace at the edge of Tarquin’s bralette, Rhys didn’t bother to look Cassian’s way as his smile turned feline, “Narcissus.”

He waited for more but when his friend didn’t go to elaborate – more interested with tracing his tongue in the hollow of Tarquin’s collarbone – Azriel did it for him. “It’s an alias, of course. But she had that look in her eyes, you know? Like she was one of us. It didn’t matter to me what her name was.”

Narcissus. The word struck a chord deep within Cassian. And even though he didn’t know her real name, he had to have her. He may go mad if he didn’t. Perhaps he already had. One of the staff girls melted from the shadows and spoked into Azriel’s ear. His gaze shifted to behind Rhys’ head and Cassian followed it with his own to a couple sitting a few tables down from them. She was halfway on her partner’s lap, rubbing idle circles into his splayed thigh and giggling at whatever he was whispering into her hair, while he met Azriel’s stare from the corner of his eye with wicked promise. Azriel’s lips tipped up lazily from one corner when he returned his heavy gaze back to his friends.

“The couple over there would like to express their praises,” He just said.

Cassian scoffed and Rhys waved an idle hand, “I’ll see you in the morning then, brother.”

Azriel stood and drained the rest of his drink before meeting Cassian eye with a slight tug of his mouth and flicking his chin in the general direction of the bar behind him. Cassian jerked his head over his shoulder and scanned the length of the bar. His attention snagged on a familiar small back, and stockings and stiletto clad legs hooked around the leg of a bar stool. He almost lurched from his seat as he looked back to the two men with him. But Azriel was gone. Already at the other table, one hand placed on the man’s shoulder and pressing a kiss onto the woman’s cheek. Tarquin was straddling Rhys. His friend lightly caressed a single finger up and down their spine while his other hand remained draped across the back of the lounge as the pair traded deep kisses that would have been inappropriate in any other public setting. Cassian and his two closest and longest friends; well, they never made the habit of saying goodbye to each other. He left the sitting area and headed for the bar.

Cassian stepped up to the bar just in time to hear a low voice ask the bartender, “scotch. Neat.”

He didn’t miss a beat. “From the finest bottle for the lady. And make it a double.”

The lady did not move to face the newcomer. Only with a slight tip of her chin, she watched him with piercing, unreadable eyes as he watched her. All of her: loose golden hair, long neck, straight back, legs crossed, one hand on her knee. She sat on that bar stool like it was her throne. She wore a slim black dress now, hiding nothing Cassian hadn’t already seen for himself when she was on that stage. He flexed his hand at his side and sent her a cool, suave smile.

“On the house,” he said as he settled into the stool next to the dancer. “For your captivating opening performance at the Lounge.”

When both drinks were handed to them, Cassian tipped his toward the woman and took a generous swig. “I’m-”

“I know who you are. Mister Khan,” she cut him off, luscious lips in a straight line and manicured nails rapping on the bar surface.

Cassian was thankful that he had already sat down, for he would have been rendered to his knees at the mere sound of her voice had he not. It was the slight curl of her tongue, and a curve of her lips, that gave it a breathy, raspy sound. She had a faint accent. French. If Cassian hadn’t already decided to take her to his bed, he most certainly did now. He wanted to know how his name would sound from those sinful lips. He wanted to know what her moans sounded like. Her cries of extasy. Her laugh.

“You are my boss, no?” She asked, peering over the rim of the crystal glass at her mouth.

I am if you want me to be. “Technically.” Along with Rhysand and Azriel, they all own equal shares of Velaris Lounge. “But I prefer the term benefactor.”

There it finally was. A small tug at the corner of her mouth. And Cassian relaxed, satisfied at the sight of it. She eyed the Cuban cigar that was still between Cassian’s fingers. Without any further prompt, he offered the unlit end to her. She took hold of it between two lithe fingers and brought it to her mouth. And Cassian watched in utter reverence. As if the scene unfolded before him in slow motion. Her lips wrapped around the thick end of the cigar. And Cassian’s hand curled hard around the edge of the table. shadows swarmed into the hollow of her cheeks, as she inhaled. And Cassian stopped breathing entirely. Her eyes flashed as she watched him the whole time. As if she could see. Somehow, in the dim, ambient lighting. The cinch in his jaw. The sudden, unbearable tightness in his pants. As if she could hear. Somehow, over the entrancing melody of jazz instruments. The depraved thoughts going through his mind. Of the way he ached to know what her lipstick would look like smudge all over his cock. And then, as if she knew. She curled her lips slightly around the cigar, before removing it from her mouth. Leaving behind a perfect imprint of her cardinal stained lips. Teeth grinding together, Cassian had to physically force down a groan.

Doing anything at all to wade through the thick haze of arousal clouding his mind, he rasped, “so how has the lounge been treating you so far.”

“This place is called the city of dreams, no?” she said, “I never believed that, until I came here. That it could be this simple.”

Cassian couldn’t help the pride that bloomed in his chest. One of us. Azriel had said. “What do you dream of?”

Her eyes wandered behind them to the stage, remained there for a heartbeat, then returned to him. Resolve glinted in them. “To have everything I’ve ever wanted.”

A dangerous smile overtook his features, “well, Velaris is the kind of place where getting everything you want is just the beginning.”

She turned in her seat to fully face him. The slit of her dress shifted in the process, exposing the entire length of her thigh and the laced hem of her thigh-high stockings around it. Cassian’s eyes dropped to it instantly. And like some compulsion, his idle hand went to ghost a single finger over it. She didn’t move away.

“And what is it that you want, mister Khan?” those words ran smooth from her lips, like the expensive scotch she held in her hand.

Cassian wanted to be set ablaze by the heat in her ember eyes.

“I want to know your real name, sweetheart.”

The woman blinked slowly. “Why should I tell you?” she breathed. Her voice now barely over a whisper. The casual glances to his lips occurred far more frequently.

“Because,” Cassian’s words turned heavy as the atmosphere became sharp, like a kindle before a flame, “I need to be able to remind you what it is when I’m fucking you so hard that you won’t remember it.”

If she was flustered at his crude language, she hadn’t shown it. Cassian had no doubt that a woman such as herself was used to receiving such propositions from all kinds of people. She only regarded him; one second, two seconds. Then, her eyelids fluttered, and her lips curved slowly. She smiled; that same secret smile she had given earlier. To no one in particular, on that stage where no one could take their eyes off her. She brought the cigar back to her mouth and took a long drag. The glowing end that illuminated the space between them was nothing compared to the inferno of desire raging within Cassian. Pinning him with an unwavering glaze, she leaned forward, as delicate tendrils of smoke curled around her blood-red lips like silver flames. The last of it danced along Cassian’s cheek when she drew close enough to whisper his damnation.

“Nesta.”

***

The first time he fucked her that night, they barely made it to the couch just beyond the foyer of his penthouse apartment. Cassian took Nesta as she was when he first laid eyes on her. Midnight laced lingerie, garter belt, thigh-high stockings, stilettos, and all. Her dress and coat, and his tie and suit jacket were promptly discarded somewhere by the front door, as he pushed her down on knees and elbows, and pressed her face firmly into the soft, cool surface. Cassian was enthralled, possessed, savaged. And he barely had half the mind to rip open a condom and roll it onto his cock, as he moved aside the damp slit of her panties to reveal a swollen, throbbing cunt. Nesta was ready for him. He had made sure of that when he spent the better part of the drive home with his hand up her dress, as cunning fingers rubbed at her clit over the rough material of her panties. He was pretty sure there would soon be a speeding ticket with his name on it. But he couldn’t bring his self to give a fuck. He only hoped that the image taken by the speeding camera; of Nesta moaning and writhing in the passenger seat of his European sports car, would dissuade the cops from sending it. Cassian wound his hand around the back of Nesta’s garter belt and fisted the other into her hair, as he fucked her in ruthless, powerful thrusts. He came, harder than he ever had in his life. Spilling into the condom inside of her with bruising fingertips and clenched teeth. And Nesta followed not seconds later, with Cassian groaning and uttering filthy fucking promises into her skin.

He fulfilled those promises, just moments later. When Nesta was barely over the throws of her earth-shattering orgasm. Her ruined panties and stilettoes were gone, and her lace bra was push down beneath the curve of her breasts. Her sensitive nipples puckered from the earlier onslaught of Cassian’s tongue and teeth. She mewled at the feeling of the heated skin of her ass pressing onto the cool granite surface when Cassian lifted her onto his dining table. Anticipation pooled in her eyes like molten silver when two rough hands spread her knees wide apart. Cassian never considered himself a religious man. But there was something so unequivocally holy in that moment; Nesta’s gasping and moaning her pleas in abandon, while Cassian knelt and worshipped her flesh. Fingers and tongue worked in expert harmony, as he tasted every inch of her sopping cunt.

When they finally made it to the bed, Nesta was bare down to only her stockings – at Cassian’s adamant insistence. Her soaked panties were left with his thousand-dollar suit; crumpled on the dining area floor. Her bra and garter belt were practically torn off and dumped along the way of their frantic journey to his bedroom. Her long, burnished gold hair was spread generously over his charcoal bed sheets, like golden silk on molten rock. Briefly, Cassian wondered if those lavish strands were long enough to brush against the plush carpet on the floor, while her head was tipped over the edge of his bed, and his hard length plunged deep into her awaiting mouth. Cassian banished the thought instantly, lest their latest coupling end far too soon for his liking. One stocking clad leg was thrown over his shoulder. While the other, was pressed into the memory foam mattress, held down hard by a large, muscled hand. Cassian was drunk on the sight of Nesta like this. She was wholly stretched out by him; beyond anything he has ever attempted before with anyone else. And he silently thanked whatever depraved God watching over them, for her lithe, dancer’s body that could take it, and then some.

The blush that began at her cheeks, slowly made its way down her neck and to her chest. Mascara was smudged around her glazed eyes; faint tracks of it running down her face and into her hairline. The sleek lines of her dark red lipstick were nothing but whispers of what it once was on those beautiful, luscious lips. Perfect, cock-sucking lips. No doubt Cassian would find the rest of it imprinted on his plush, Italian leather couch. At that point in the night, Nesta’s mouth was open in a constant ‘O’ shape. Her pink, wet tongue periodically coming out to tangle with his. She was a sight of pure debauchery. And it was nothing short of a masterpiece. With each powerful thrust, Nesta body jerked with the force of it, her supple breasts bouncing in tandem. And Cassian was hypnotised by the rhythmic movement of her hardened nipples.

Cassian had taken many women to his Californian king-size bed. Beautiful women. Exquisite women. Some of them shy, some of them playful. And most were downright sinful. But Nesta. Nesta, Nesta. Cassian Khan felt like one of the greats. Like fucking Michelangelo, like Sandro Botticelli. Seeing how he was making her writhe beneath him like that; manicured fingers twisted in the bed sheets, arched back, neck bared, skin painted in the soft glow of the spectrum of city lights glittering through the floor to ceiling windows. Seeing how she was open completely, and unyieldingly to him. Taunt flesh rippling under the pearly skin of her flat stomach. Her soddened, swollen cunt, stretched deliciously around his considerable girth. She was priceless renaissance painting that belonged in a museum for the world to see. The Dance of Narcissus, he would call it.

With a guttered groan, Cassian broke through the moans, the pants, and the slick sounds of rock-hard flesh rubbing against soft, wet flesh. “Sweetheart, your pussy is perfect. Like it was made for me.” He couldn’t look away. At Nesta stretched out before him. A precious oasis to a dying, dehydrated man. He would do anything. Give anything – his cock, his time, his money – to keep her coming back to his bed.

“One day, I’m going to fuck you raw. Would you like that, sweetheart?” Nesta could only whimper in response. Which spurred Cassian to go faster, deeper. Harder. “I’ll fuck you so hard. Stuff you so full of my cum, you won’t walk properly for a week.”

Cassian snaked his free hand up her body, fingers caressing over her sensitive skin along the way. He drove it into her hair and gripped harshly onto the strands at the back of her head. “You’ll get up on that stage, and dance for all those filthy-minded men. But it’ll be me dripping out of your tight, little pussy and down your gorgeous legs.”

“Cass!” Nesta cried out. Desperate to touch him, she reached out, digging her sharp nails into his tensed bicep. Cassian welcomed the pain.

“Fuck Nesta. So, fucking perfect for me.” He knew he was close to his release, but he wanted her clenching around him before that. With hard tug of her hair, he made Nesta look him in the eye. Cassian felt the muscles of her thigh trembling at her impending climax beneath the hand that held down her leg to the mattress. “One more time, sweetheart. Come for me, I know you can.”

Nesta shattered around him, just like that. Never taking her eyes from him the entire time, as she gasped and thrashed beneath him. Incoherent words spilt in between each heaved breath. Cassian could only comprehend a word here and there; it was mostly in French. And he didn’t stop. Even as she cried out, begging for reprieve. Begging for more. Cassian pushed her legs even further apart, driving deeper into her limp, pliant body, brushing against places that had never been touched. A bead of sweat rolled down the length of his forehead and nose, before landing in the valley of Nesta’s breasts. Cassian breath stuttered as his cock tightened. And there were barely seconds for him to pull out completely from her over-sensitive flesh. Nesta choked at the sudden loss, but Cassian ignored her muffled protests. In one swift motion, he ripped the condom from his throbbing cock, and pumped the exposed length, once, twice, thrice. And Cassian came undone. He shouted Nesta’s name as ribbons of cum painted her breasts and stomach. Nesta. Nesta. Nesta. He chanted her name over and, and over again. Until he was nothing. Until her name was but an imprint forever in his memory. A promise.

***

They had fucked one more time. Hours later, in the watery, grey light of dawn. Cassian awoke to soft mounds pressed against his back. To tongue and teeth dragging along the stubble on his jawline, and a delicate hand wrapped firmly around his erection. There was nothing separating their skin from head to toe. Nesta’s stocking were nowhere in sight. Not that Cassian cared to look anywhere beyond what was right in front of him at that moment. They shifted in unison, and she straddled him. Somehow, in all their lazy moments, Nesta had already rolled a condom it onto his shaft, while his eyelids were still heavy with sleep. And before he had the chance to touch her, she wordlessly sank onto him, teeth embedded into her bottom lip. Nesta waited, impaled on Cassian’s cock. Adjusting to his sheer size despite already having him twice before. Her flush was gone, but her skin was littered with the evidence of their carnal frenzy from merely hours ago. The first light of day, lit hair up like a golden vail spilling over her shoulders. She was breathtaking, so he told her. But she had not paid attention to his adorations. No, for the first time since they met the previous night. Nesta drank the entirely bare, magnificent sight of him. Her eyes ran over his rich brown skin. Every mountain and valley of muscle in his arms and abdomen. The notch of his throat. The sharp, brutal planes of his face. His molten, hazel eyes. The intricate black lines of ink that spanned his pectorals and biceps.

“Homme exquis.” Nesta murmured softly, as she lifted her hips.

Bodies, supple and hard, moved together. Deeply, and slowly with the rising sun. Chasing any lingering tastes of Cuban cigars and single-malt scotch. Once more. Cassian would want to have her once more, to match the frantic, carnal passion from the previous night. But he restrained himself. Being too content with that moment in the silence of an early morning. With Nesta tracing his tattoo with fingertips and tongue, and Cassian’s nosed buried into her damp hair. She must have showered while he slept. And he was consumed with the scent of him on her. He thought of her using his shampoo, his soap, his towel, and something small and warm burrowed deep within his chest.

They found their releases with each other, Nesta right after Cassian. And when Cassian emerged from his bathroom fifteen minutes later. A towel wrapped low around his sore hips, and tendrils of steam following his steps. Nesta was gone with the final shades of night. But promises of her remained, littered all over his apartment. Stockings draped over the bathroom rack next to a damp towel. A lace bra, hanging off his bedroom doorknob. Black panties laid out on his granite dining table. A garter belt slung over the back of the leather couch stained with cardinal lipstick kisses. Cassian kept them all with a secret smile on his face. Later, when the night would return in all its magnificent beauty. He would put on a fresh, expensive suit. And He would return to his castle. To his friends. To Nesta. And he would do it all over again.

#acotar #acotar fic #nessian #nessian fanfiction #nessian fic #nessian smut #nessian modern au #nessian month

[thetaoofzoe]

Fic: You, The Boy, and The Golden Shoes 1/1

Title: You, The Boy, and The Golden Shoes

Pairing: Henry Cavill X YOU (AU)

Word Count: 1890

Summary: Girl you are a fucking mess. How you managed to keep a top tier lad such as Henry, your sanity and a flagging perfume company is beyond me. 

Rating: Nothing you wouldn’t share with mum. Slice of life, fluff, reality, tiny bit of angst, but it has a happy ending. :)

Note: This is a bit different than my usual fare, and of course AU, so I hope you like it. 

You knew that if you stood there one moment longer, sodden in the cold drizzle, bare knees scraped and bleeding, face illuminated by the sickly pink neon Girls Girls Girls sign, and staring drunkenly at the plump old ladies eating ice cream inside the sweets shop, you’d likely start screaming.

What else was there to do on a wet Friday night, but scream into the void?

‘Show us yer tits!’

A man’s ugly voice jerked you out of your despair.

It took a moment to force focus from the ice cream ladies to the window’s watery reflection in time to see the raggedy white car crawling along the edge of the kerb, slow enough so that the equally as raggedy man in a splotchy tie dyed shirt could give you a right old shouting at. The driver behind him leaned on the car horn and with tires hydroplaning on the wet road the white car moved on.

I deserve it, you thought, and tried to push your wig upright on your head again.

The synthetic strands were waterlogged and the entire thing had begun to make its migration down one side of your head as if searching for dry refuge.

You are a fucking mess, girl, your mouthed to your reflection.

Making a sour face, you tried to use the edges of your dirty fingers to clean up the oozing mascara. But you only succeeded in smearing the sticky water proof khol down your cheeks and ended up looking as if you were preparing for some concrete jungle camouflage.

Maybe becoming one with the macadam was a good idea. It was the perfect time to just disappear and never come back, especially considering how you’d just ruined your life. The strap of your shiny gold dress slithered off of your shoulder and with a growl of frustration you hooked it with your thumb and dragged it up again.

You then glanced down at your dirty gold lamé pumps. The sudden shift of your booze heavy head caused your stomach to roil unpleasantly and wanting to prevent seeing those 5 whiskey sours and cherries make an encore appearance, you looked up at the ice cream ladies.

They seem to be enjoying themselves, you thought, miserably. I hope they rot. 

In the reflection you could see yet another car slowing and coming to a stop directly behind you.

‘Oh fuck me,’ you muttered, when you saw a tall dark haired man get out and pop open a clear plastic umbrella to shield himself from the drizzle.

A vague thought drifted like a fluffy cloud across your drink addled brain.

Looks like the same umbrella that I have. Really, similar… hmm I wonder where I left it.  I really liked that umbrella.

The man walked close and a painful tension clenched between your shoulder blades. You hoped he was either heading for the candy shop or the porno house and not about to harass you.

‘I’ve been looking everywhere for you!’ he shouted.

The anger was clear and sharp in his voice and mingled with an overlay of concern. In the window’s reflection you watched him drag a hand through his curls.

Henry. 

‘Why did you run off like that?’ he asked, quieter this time and moved close to hold the umbrella over you.

You watched the old ladies abruptly burst into laughter over something. Then the one with her back to the window suddenly turned round to look you directly in the face. They had obviously been talking about the nutcase who was watching them through the window and embarrassed, you turned to face the man behind you.

‘How did you find me?’ you asked him and messily palmed the rain from your face.

Henry sighed and looked heavenward as if asking for deliverance from your special brand of crazy.

‘You’re not hard to miss,’ he said gesturing to your ruined and mud splattered evening gown.

You looked down at yourself and self consciously dragged the slipping strap back up onto your shoulder again.

‘Well, that’s what happens when you go crawling through the hedge.’

Henry gaped at you a moment then one-handed, shrugged out of his evening jacket and draped it about your shoulders. His hand drifted to your lower back and it was such a familiar gesture that it couldn’t be more of a Henry-move if he tried.

Mmm, he smells good though, you mused, catching his scent from the jacket and clutching the lapels of the jacket tighter.

Although you were grateful for his chivalry, you didn’t allow him to exert that soft, manly pressure against your back to hurry you along to the car. You wanted to wallow for a moment longer.

Henry stopped trying to guide you to safety and just stood there, observing you sympathetically and fortunately, silently. He had a tendency to talk every problem to death until he felt better about the situation, no matter how you felt about it. But, he was getting better about that and you put a hash mark on his side of your mental scoreboard.

Wanting to explain yourself and your outlandish behaviour, you spread your hands and tried to speak. But you couldn’t find a coherent explanation for why you did what you did.

‘I’m sorry,’ you said finally.

‘Why did you run away?’ he asked, jumping at the chance to get the conversation rolling.

Looking up at him, you scoffed with disbelief.

‘Why did I run away?’ you sneered in response.

The fundraiser had been a disaster. You had been a fucking disaster.

All you needed was for the earth to open you up and swallow you up to your neck, leaving your head free for birds to perch on. But no, you had to deal with the ramifications of the worst moments of your life. 

It all started at the beginning of the year when a recluse aunt dropped a strange and failing fragrance company into your lap. Did she give you actual ownership where you could reap the benefits of being a company woman? 

No.

 She’d made you the figurehead who did all of the work to keep the business afloat whilst she did whatever recluses did in the south of France.

So, who could blame you for taking a little credit here and there as your hard work began to increase market shares. Who could blame you for slipping into her vacated persona and eventually into her name? It helped the business, for Christ sakes!

It definitely helped to have a face with the name so that people could deal directly with you, rather than by carrier pigeon, of whatever archaic method of communication your aunt liked to use. You never understood what she wanted anyway, so you ran things the way you saw fit.

From that point everything had proceeded swimmingly. You had a flourishing career, a bright future and a handsome lad. Henry was amazing and the sex…oh Jesus.

That was, until your reclusive aunt decided that the reclusive lifestyle just wasn’t for her any more. She’d turned up at a fundraiser you’d organised, in order to steal your spotlight once again. Word had spread like a raging grease fire that you were a fraud and you had tried to swindle a poor little old lady out of her fortunes. When in truth, it was you who saved the drowning business with its foul scent combinations and turned it a healthy, popular and thriving company.

So what did you do? When all accusing eyes were pinned on you?

You ran. As usual.

It really didn’t help that the house where the fundraiser was being held, was on a steep hill surrounded by thick hedges. It also didn’t help that you’d tried to leave through a balcony door that dumped you right out at the apex of that hill. It was a long way down and your rump became acquainted with every rock and bump and mudslide this side of the Mississippi.

You ripped your dress, muddied your 5000 quid shoes and dislodged your fabulous wig. And it was only later that you found refuge and solace on a high street off shoot road that boasted curries, candy and naked girls.

And that’s also where Henry found you.

‘If this is about what your aunt said,’ he began and you stiffened, waiting for the blow of his disapproval and eventual breakup. ‘It… doesn’t make sense.’

You looked up to meet his unbearably fond gaze.

‘You did all of the work. If it weren’t for you, there would be no business. You are the rightful head of it. Not her.’

‘Henry,’ you sighed, relief choking off your words.

You cleared your throat.

See? Amazing lad, isn’t he.

‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t more honest. I–‘

‘You didn’t lie to me,’ he said, smiling a little to reassure you, his hand sliding about your waist to pull you close. ‘If you had to stretch the truth a little to succeed well…’

He shrugged lazily as if it all didn’t matter one whit to him.

Holding your wig so that it wouldn’t slide forward, you leaned in to kiss him, grateful that you still hadn’t ruined everything. At least in his eyes, for Henry always saw the best in you.

‘Thank you. But… I still trashed my reputation.’

And in business, reputation was Queen.

Henry was about to say something, but the soft ring tone of the beginning of the 80s song ‘Take on me’ interrupted him. 

It was your publicist.

‘Hello?’ you asked, defeated and hesitant, bracing for the fury.

Henry righted your wig and mashed it down on your head to prevent it from shifting like an awkward cake.

‘Why did you run off?’ she laughed. ‘I saw you! You took a swan dive out of the window! Are you coming back?’

‘Coming back?’ you asked, looking at Henry.

He pointed to himself with brows raised as if asking, /me/?

You shook your head.

‘Well, yes. This is your company and your fundraiser, right? We can’t make the final toast with you.’

You were flabbergasted. Surely you weren’t welcomed back after what had happened.

‘But, my aunt,’ you began. ‘She… I… I shouldn’t have said that I was–‘

The publicist cut you off.

‘Look, honey. It’s true, her name is on the deed, but we all know who’s the star. You can write it off as a publicity stunt and come out with a new perfume called… Escape or something. With notes of tobacco , mud and whiskey. They’ll love it.’

You stood in stunned silence and the knot in your chest slowly unravelled as the realisation that you hadn’t ruined your life began to dawn.

‘I can’t come back now. I’m a mess. I’ll leave you to do the toast for me. Just tell them something. You’re good at that.’

‘Ok, honey. I’m going with the Escape thing, ok? So you’d better come up with something amazing.’

You disconnected the call and stood there, leaning against Henry and contemplating this peculiar turn of events.

‘All right?’ he asked and you nodded.

‘Can I at least get you into the car?’ he continued gently. ‘You’re shivering. Let me take you home.’

‘I’d rather have some ice cream, if you don’t mind.’

You saw him look through the window behind you and smile.

‘I could go for some as well,’ he replied and together you walked into the shop.

Suddenly life wasn’t quite so bad.

-end

#henry cavill #henry cavill smut #henry cavill x you #reader insert #august walker #clark kent #man of steel #geralt #the witcher

[evilphone]

[fishklok] 🎼📚🍀!

🎼 Your favorite music to draw to right now?

i really just put on my massive playlist of all my liked songs on spotify on shuffle and let it play whatever it wants! So it's all over the place but 90% rock and metal.

at least i'll never run out of music while i draw...

📚 How many layers do you typically use?

3! one for the background color, one that i use for the pose sketch, and then later repurpose for the colors, and then one for the lines! That's my baseline, but oftentimes i'll add a few multiply or overlay layers if i want to adjust all the colors at once.

🍀 You wish your art was more..(fill in the blank)

Consistent! I feel like I have a lot of trouble drawing the same character the same every time.

for example, i feel like toki especially looks different literally every time i draw him lmao.

#thanks!

[d-stabilize]

Piers: in terms of music I make i tend to stick with punk and punk adjacent genres with the occasional rock influence since that's what i enjoy writing and producing the most plus thats what my fans expect. I'll put electric beats in the background and overlay different aspects of my songs when I want something fancier and when I'm in a silly mood ill open up my audio editing programs and edit the fuck out of my voice and music. Its fun and kinda relaxing but most importantly it reset my music pallet and helps me with artist block lol. As for stuff I like to listen to i tend to enjoy majority of genres but when it comes to pop i usually just listen to what marnie recommends because she knows what i like. I have a playlist of electrofunk and 8bit gaming music i listen to when I need to concentrate on paperwork tho marnie has been adding electric swing to my playlists lol and ill indulge in the occasional country tho that genre can be hit or miss for me but I find that if I stick to only woman country singers ill get more hits then misses. Also I like rap and hip hop when im in the mood for it

Piers: so what kind of music do you like?

N: I listen to the sounds of nature and palpitoad singing

Piers:

N:

Piers:

N: what genre is the band "talking heads"

#txt #i dont know anything about music genres i just channeled the emotions i feel when ppl try to explain it to me #MathRockShipping