#it feels so... intimate. complex. layered. and very sexy

[winterswake]

DOCTOR WHO — The Zygon Inversion

[sitp-recs]

HP Rec Fest, Day 28

I’ve been reccing underrated fics since this blog was created and so I thought “there’s no easier @hprecfest prompt than this one” lol famous last words, this post took me ages to prepare 😂 I was initially overwhelmed by the amount of fics that came to mind, and going through my bookmarks and old recs only made it worse. How was I supposed to shortlist?? In the end I gave up and decided to rec 2 Drarry fics + 2 rare pairs. I could have included so many more but I really didn’t want this to become a tl;dr post and these rec blurbs are already going out of control, so here we go!

Day 28) an under-rated fic:

Drarry

In Dreams by @moonflower-rose (E, 38k)

Harry wasn't expecting to ever see Draco Malfoy again. He also wasn't expecting to walk into a political conspiracy that morning either, but apparently that's exactly what the day has in store for him.

I’ve screamed quite a few times about this fic (see my rec here) and every time I do it’s in the hopes that more folks will stop whatever they’re doing and go feast on this. not only a delicious and intriguing case fic with Rosie’s trademark epic dialogue and superb sense of humour, this also wins the award of best fic opening I have ever read. the way I gasped at chapter one and am forever haunted by its utterly devastating ending oh my god!!! my heart belongs to this gritty Harry, and the slow burn is masterfully crafted within the urgency of their teamwork to solve the mystery combining comfort, grief and hope in a thrilling, poignant and perfectly paced adventure. plus, the emotional payoff is chef’s kiss, honestly I cannot recommend this enough!

Survival of the Species by @romaine2424 (E, 47k)

Draco approaches Harry on the 9 ¾ platform, after their sons have boarded the Hogwarts Express, and invites him over for tea. The discussion they have leads them on an adventure that neither could have expected. There be dragons! HPDH compliant but before any other canon info had been released.

considering this masterpiece was published back in 2007 I think I’m allowed to say this is definitely a formative story when it comes to the creature genre, more specifically Veela fic. I first read this a couple years ago and my jaw legit dropped at the amount of world-building and carefully researched lore that went into this. so detailed and intricate and different from everything I’ve seen before or since, I was truly fascinated and couldn’t stop reading. kudos to the amazing slow burn covering years of their struggles stuck together in a dragon cave and having to rely on each other to survive. I loved seeing the hardships and how they genuinely came to care for each other, definitely one of the most moving and convincing Veela love stories I’ve read in the fandom.

Rare pair

With a Look by earlybloomingparentheses (Ginny + Deamus, E, 5k)

Now, twenty years old and done with boys and looking forward very much to putting her hand down some lucky girl’s shirt later this evening, Ginny looks at Dean Thomas’s gold-painted fingernails and feels heat pool between her legs.

I think about this fic every now and then - such a sensitive, thought-provoking and beautiful homage to the 🏳️‍🌈 community. the visceral and contemplative tone takes it beyond your regular PWP, and I’ve rarely seen gender and queerness explored quite like this. seeing Ginny figuring out and owning her identify is mesmerizing. her voice is powerful, sexy, earnest and articulates so many complex and layered feelings - I was particularly moved by the inner turmoil of not looking “queer enough”. I’m sure this fic will be eye-opening and comforting to so many people out there, and that’s why I never cease to rec it. an intimate character study, a sinfully hot and self-indulgent threesome but above anything, a poignant love letter to the queer community.

Passion, Patents, and Pen Pals at the Ministry by @violetclarity and @yrfrndfrnkly, art by @anaxandria-writes and @veelawings (Hermione/Pansy, T, 32k)

After an extremely ill-timed lovers'-tiff-turned-food-fight at the Ministry leaves her less one boyfriend and suspended without pay for six months, Hermione pleads for some position–anything–to fill her days until her suspension is up. The good news is, her temporary position in the Magical Games & Sports's Ludicrous Patents office is just down the corridor from Harry's office in General Inquiries. The bad news is Harry's officemate is Pansy Parkinson, the Ministry's operations are shockingly outdated, and every altercation between Hermione and Pansy winds up a headline in MoM's internal rogue gossip zine, Hot Goss.

rivals to secret pen pals to lovers yes please?? this hilarious Pansmione is a ship triumph and yet criminally underrated. I had a blast getting into the world of Ministry gossip & politics, and immediately fell in love with all the characters, l especially with this lovely meddling Harry. it’s SO MUCH FUN to watch poor him (and Blaise omg what a duo) in the middle of a ladies’ tug of war. I’m impressed by the amount of world-building especially around their workplace, not to mention all the side interactions and the fun, organic slow burn. I love this take on identity porn with tons of banter and Pansy and Mione connecting through their shared worldview and feminist principles, such a power couple ✊🏼 the mix of semi-epistolary, witty dialogue, dorky meddling friends and mild angst make for peak entertaining, I laughed non-stop and cheered so bad for them. femslash ftw!!!

[bhaalble]

Like genuinely. no malice to the writer they can have whatever take they want on their work. I also don't really think they were intending to cast judgement on people who do ascend him in the same way everyone quoting them is. But I do deeply disagree with it! Primarily on the ground that a. you can ascend Astarion without romancing him so is it still a kink thing then and b. Its not like the game gives you a checkbox that this is going to make him lean real hard into a sexy dominant role so unless the player is going in knowing the outcomes. I dont know that its quite fair to say they would only do it to sate some kind of fantasy.

But even assuming every player walks in with that knowledge. A list off the top of my head for why a player might ascend him. And just to add an extra layer of challenge I'm not even going to include "wants to do an evil route". I'll assume this is a player who has the best, or at least no harmful, intentions for Astarion. Reasons they might Ascend him regardless include

-Wants him to be able to walk in the sun! To cross running water and control his hunger and walk in homes without invitation. Your PC doesn't want him to be held back by the limitations of spawndom that clearly cause him a lot of pain

-Hatred for Cazador and relating to wanting to humiliate and steal from him in a deeply intimate way. This was a big one for my own gith Tav because they projected a lot of their feelings about the Emperor and mind flayers in general onto Cazador. I can't imagine I have the only PC who would come to that conclusion, especially many Dark Urge PCs.

-Extra power in the fight against the Absolute. You're going up against an elder brain and the Dead Three. For the sake of the city there might be many Tavs who think the power of a Vampire Ascendant might be a valuable asset in the coming fight, particularly when they have a willing volunteer who they have a relatively positive relationship with and who knows the stakes well enough to at least play along.

-For a more pragmatic (if callous) Tav, there are 6006 vampire spawn that will have to be dealt with, many of which are nearly feral from centuries in a dungeon and all of whom are likely starving. While its not my personal belief it is very easy to have created a guy who thinks that one Vampire Ascendant in full control of his body will be easier to deal with long term than a blood crazed army just being turned loose on the city without warning.

-BECAUSE HE ASKED!! I cannot emphasize enough this man has been so consistent about saying he wants to do this. If you defeat Cazador without him he breaks up with you because you have denied him even the choice to transcend what he is now. Whether or not its a good choice for him on a moral or mental health level it is explicitly what he wants! And I have built more than one guy who see this and go I think actually you've had enough of other people deciding what's best for you.

And that's just off the top of my head. There are a million more factors I haven't even conceived of out there. This isn't me pitching Ascended as secretly the good end or suggesting there's not good reasons to go for unascended route. Its just very strange to me to create an extremely meta reason why someone might make a choice in a game, decide that's the ONLY reason someone would go through with it, and then judge them based off its supposition. Its a disservice to the complexity of the situation imo to turn it into "either you want to fuck nasty or you want to be a good s/o which is it then?"

God protect me they did an article on that Ascendant route take....I cannot do two ratty Astarion posts in a row (he can do this) (hes never won the idgaf war)

[andawaywego]

If you’re still taking prompts, can I make a suggestion? Could you maybe write one about Jamie being busy starting up the leafling (or something) and Dani feels a little neglected so she buys something sexy to get Jamie’s attention.

so i actually had a few prompts for Dani buying lingerie. i guess we were all thinking it, huh? this kinda got away from me, but i hope you like it! smutty smut ahoy.

..

Valentine’s Day, Jamie is learning, is one of the most brutal holidays there is; at least, it is when you own a flower shop. Two years in and it’s a hard lesson. Tiring, even. Exhausting. The orders start pouring in starting about a week out and then it’s practically nonstop until the whole thing is over.

Last year, it felt like they got through it by the skin of their teeth. By the end of it, she and Dani had gotten so good at communicating a lot of information quickly—order sizes, specifics, pickup times—that they’ve almost become mind readers. At least when it comes to each other.

This became especially useful once they hit wedding season that same year and Jamie only realizes how much she’s come to rely on this anomaly once she’s without it.

On Valentine’s Day this year, Dani is sick and at their apartment resting and Jamie is forced to finish everything up on her own. It could be worse, she thinks, because the timing is at least a little less suffocating than it may have been if she’d had to send Dani home early the day before. The only business she’s really had all day were customers coming by to pick up their orders or last-minute love day stragglers coming in to buy whatever she had left.

It could be worse. Really it could.

By the time she closes things up, the whole shop sort of looks like someone took a large vacuum to it, sucking up just about all the plant life from the displays and walls. It looks sort of like a ghost town. Jamie briefly imagines a tumbleweed rolling by. Locks the door behind herself. Turns her feet towards home.

She worries as she walks, the complex where they live only a few blocks from the shop itself. Wonders if maybe she should stop somewhere and get some soup for Dani or something, and then remembers that it’s Valentine’s Day and decides to avoid going to a restaurant.

She can always come back out and brave the headache later. Right now, she’s mostly focused on getting home to check on her girlfriend.

The apartment is quiet when she steps inside. It isn’t as if she was expecting any different, but it still catches her off guard. Only the lamp by the sofa is clicked on, meaning that the rest of the space is shadowed in darkness. The radiators by the window hum and it’s a little too hot—buildings like this, she’s learned, don’t know the meaning of “happy medium.” They spend the summers fanning themselves like southern church ladies and the winter much the same. Fall is reserved for wearing too many layers as they wait for the building manager to decide to turn on the radiators.

She shrugs off her jacket and hangs it on the coat rack. Keeps her boots on for now even though Dani hates that in case she ends up having to go back out. Heads toward the hallway, toward the bedroom, where she assumes Dani must be resting. Walks slowly to keep the floorboard-squeaking to a minimum.

It isn’t until she passes by the bathroom that she hears it: the music drifting gently from the bedroom. A soft drum beat and a voice singing. She doesn’t immediately recognize the song, too busy wondering why Dani is listening to music while she rests. Gives up on tip-toeing and just hurries the rest of the way.

And then, well—

Hot and stuffy in the apartment from the radiators, sweating a bit in her shirt right at the small of her back, and a shiver still trembles through Jamie’s body when she steps into the bedroom, when she sees what’s waiting for her.

“Hey,” says Dani, perched at the bottom of the bed and smiling in that way Jamie knows she only does when she is very, very nervous.

“I thought you were sick,” says Jamie.

“I know. I’m sorry. I just wanted some time to set all of this up.”

All of this being the record she’s got playing from the stereo in the corner of the room, the candles she has lit on top of the television and on the table next to her side of the bed, and, most importantly, what she’s wearing.

Her makeup, her hair, decked out like every single fantasy Jamie’s ever had and never before let herself consider. Worst of all: she’s wearing lingerie. Purple lingerie. Purple lingerie that hardly leaves anything to the imagination. Jamie swallows so hard it hurts a little.

And she’s seen Dani naked before. Of course, she has. Plenty of times. She’s seen her in nice underwear that matched the bra she had on a handful of times, too. But this is different. Lovely on her or not, those things were still functional as undergarments. And this? This isn’t.

This is see-through lace and long, smooth legs. It’s ruffles and a short-sleeved silk robe that’s hanging off her shoulders just enough to make Jamie’s mouth water.

This isn’t functional. This was designed to cause the exact reaction that it has; this was designed to be taken off.

Dani rolls her shoulders back and flutters her eyelashes in a way that should be silly, but only succeeds in making Jamie’s blood race more thoroughly through her veins. “You’re staring,” she says, playing innocence so well that Jamie almost feels guilty about her inability to tear her eyes away.

Except Dani bought this at some point just for the sole purpose of sitting on their bed looking like that. She did that knowing full well that Jamie wouldn’t be able to keep from eyeing the curves and sways of her, the pale skin and soft lines of her jaw and neck. Wouldn’t be able to want anything more than to press Dani back into their mattress and cover every inch of her, lace and all, with her mouth, her tongue, her hands, and—

“Yeah,” she says. “I am.”

“Something the matter?” asks Dani, so utterly dedicated to this flirtatious act of naivete.

“No, I’m good. Perfect.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Yep.” Jamie turns to glance at the record player as “All Out of Love” comes on. “Cheery song.”

Dani’s act falters. She blushes. “I didn’t know this was on here. It’s...new.”

Jamie frowns and walks over to the record player, reaching for the unfamiliar album sleeve. “Oh? What is it?”

She feels almost guilty for knocking Dani off her game, but she’s so desperately starved for context, for anything concrete to grasp onto so that she doesn’t just pounce, that she just waits for an answer. As it turns out, she doesn’t need one; the cover speaks for itself.

“Wait,” she says, looking it over. “Is this…?”

“You’re not allowed to laugh,” says Dani, pointing at her sternly.

Jamie smiles. “Not laughing. I just can’t believe you actually bought this.”

“The commercials were very convincing!”

“Did you actually call the place?” is her next question because she can’t imagine her girlfriend calling some commercial-boasted number to buy a four-record album named Secret Love just for this occasion. Jamie usually has to call and make her doctor’s appointments for her.

Dani blinks. “No,” she says. “I sent them a check.”

Jamie grins. Can’t help it. Loves Dani so very much at this moment. “Just one payment of $19.95?” she teases and it works: Dani smiles, too, looking less nervous by the second.

“It’s a good deal, you know,” she says.

“I never said it wasn’t.”

“You had a tone.”

“I did not have a tone.”

“Sure you did.”

Jamie isn’t actually sure how she’s managing to control herself anymore. That silk robe slipping off Dani’s shoulder looks so enticing; she wants to press her mouth to the skin it’s left uncovered. Wants other things, too—so many she can hardly decide where to start.

She sets the album back down and takes a few, slow steps towards her girlfriend. Still too far, but closer. “You went to all this trouble,” she says, “for me?”

Dani’s expression softens and she gets to her feet, moving closer. “Yeah, Jay. I did. We’ve just been...so busy lately, which is great! Don’t get me wrong! But...you’ve had so much on your plate and it’s stressful and I didn’t want us to...not get a Valentine’s Day. You know?”

Jamie isn’t sure what there is to say to that except for: “I love you.”

Another step forward and then Dani is grabbing her hands. “I love you, too,” she says, hypnotizing in this outfit, in this lighting, all the time. Her gaze sticks to the pale skin visible through the lace at Dani’s waist, so distracted that she hardly notices when she’s being turned around and pushed back toward the bed, gently guided by Dani’s hands on her shoulders to sit down on the mattress.

The mattress isn’t very tall, which means that, when Dani sinks to her knees, she’s only really a head shorter than Jamie. Her palms run up Jamie’s trouser-covered thighs, fingers curling around them a bit to guide them open a bit so that she can slide her body between them, get closer. Her body is fever-hot and Jamie has the sudden thought that she may not make it out of this surprise alive.

Dani has a knack for making her feel like she’s two seconds from a heart attack every time they’re intimate already. Now she’s wearing lingerie and looking at Jamie like that and Jamie doesn’t know where to put her hands, or where to settle her eyes.

The swell of Dani’s breasts is enticing, so she looks it over for a bit, and then there’s her freckled collarbones, the sleek and taut muscles of her neck. Her pink lips. Jamie feels hot, sweating in her clothes from the heat of the radiators.

Dani looks up at her, blue and brown eyes bright and eager beneath the flutter of her eyelashes. Normally, Jamie would be filling the air with mindless, nervous chatter, trying to calm herself down before the main event, but it feels different this time. The silence, save for the gentle croon of another sappy love song coming from the record player, seems sacred. She doesn’t want to break it for anything.

She curls her fingers in the ends of Dani’s hair, brushing it behind her shoulders, and then Dani is leaning up and she’s leaning down and they’re kissing. Dani’s hands fist the fabric of Jamie’s shirt right at her hips and Jamie cups her face and cranes her neck, and it’s too fucking hot. They should open a window. But Dani’s kisses are hungry and eager and there’s this knot of pain in Jamie’s chest because of it, so she doesn’t dare break away.

Instead, she lifts one of her hands and curves her fingers around Dani’s breast, pushing her palm against it to make the rough lace fabric brush against her nipple. Feels it poke up against her skin a bit and Dani’s answering moan vibrates her lips, flicking her tongue out to tickle the roof of Jamie’s mouth. Jamie scoots forward on the bed to be closer and lifts her other hand to do the same with Dani’s neglected breast.

“Jamie,” Dani pants as she rips her mouth away, eyes clenched shut, “this is supposed to be about you.”

Jamie smiles. “Trust me,” she says,“it is.”

Dani’s eyes open. “That’s not what I mean.”

“What do you mean, then?”

A long look of consideration. Jamie momentarily stops her movements at Dani’s chest. And then Dani unbuttons her trousers and starts tugging at them, saying, “Get these off. That’s what I mean.”

Jamie takes them off. Her shirt, too. Drops each of them to the floor carelessly, too eager for the next part to worry about where they land. In all the rush, Dani begins to slip the silk robe from her shoulders, but Jamie stops her with a shake of her head.

Says, “Leave it on,” with the sort of breathlessness that makes Dani smile.

She leaves it on.

Jamie brushes her thumb against Dani’s nipple and then trails her fingers up the bony press of her sternum. Cups her jaw and cranes her neck down to kiss her, hot press of lips together and Dani gasping into her mouth.

Wanting to be closer in a way this particular position won’t allow, she breaks away from the kiss and guides Dani up by the shoulders until she is sliding her knees onto the mattress on either side of Jamie’s thighs, straddling her. She rolls her hips down and now Jamie can feel the fabric covering Dani’s body against her own skin. Fears she’ll go mad from desire before she can do anything about it.

It’s cooler in just her underwear, certainly, but that doesn’t mean the friction of their bodies together isn’t creating a fine layer of sweat between them. Their legs slide together and Jamie is so wet, so ready, that it’s beginning to hurt a little.

She kisses Dani’s neck and slides her lips up to the corner of her jaw, to her earlobe. She nibbles a little, then scrapes her teeth down to her neck again. Nips at her pulse point then smoothes it over with her tongue. Dani curses against her hair, breath a hot spread across Jamie’s scalp as she rolls her hips down.

A moment later, her hand is working its way inside Jamie’s panties, fingertips brushing against her clit very lightly and it’s Jamie’s turn to curse.

“Fuck.”

Dani smiles, kisses her forehead. “Doing okay?” she asks, that impersonation of complete chastity back in her voice, in her lips, the way her head tilts flirtatiously as Jamie meets her eyes.

“Doing great,” Jamie manages through gritted teeth. She is fighting back the urge to simply reach between them and push Dani’s hand against her harder. She drops her head and presses her lips against one of Dani’s nipples through the lace, mouthing at it hotly and making Dani sag against her, a little boneless, with a moan.

Payback, she thinks, is definitely a bitch.

She can be one, too.

She grips Dani’s hips in that tight, fierce way that Dani likes—thinks it must be at least a little painful, but maybe that’s why Dani likes it—and rolls up into her hand in a way that pushes the back of it between Dani’s own legs.

“Jay,” breathes Dani, and her expression is purposefully seductive, playful even as she is genuinely reacting to Jamie’s movements. She flutters her eyelashes with the best of them and she is the only woman Jamie’s ever been with that can make her go mad just by smiling at her. “Lie back.”

Jamie doesn’t understand the order at first, can’t wrap her head around it because Dani’s fingers are circling her clit now. It isn’t until that hand pulls away and Dani gets back, slowly, to her feet to give her room that she gets it. It feels like every part of her is positively vibrating as she uses her hands to slide back and back. Lowers herself to the mattress all the way and tilts her chin down so she can watch her girlfriend climb up her body in this ridiculously erotic and mind-numbing way.

“God, how are you not naked yet?” she asks, pressing her lips to Jamie’s breastbone, dipping down to tongue at the edge of her bra.

“How are you not fucking me yet?” Jamie returns, just to see Dani’s reaction—the way her cheeks go even pinker, the way she blinks in surprise at her sudden vulgarity.

She swallows thickly. “Patience is a virtue, you know.”

“Not when you look like that it’s not.”

Dani tugs the left cup of Jamie’s bra down and ducks her head to hide the way her expression changes, lips curling around Jamie’s nipple. Jamie can feel her smiling. “Like what?”

“You’re a tease, you know that? You’re such a bloody tease.”

Her mouth moves down to Jamie’s ribcage. “Would you like to lodge a formal complaint?” she asks.

Jamie curls her fingers into her girlfriend’s hair and cranes her neck to get a better look at her in that damned lingerie. “If you don’t touch me soon then yeah, I would.”

She feels the blunt edge of Dani’s teeth below her belly button, scraping down to the waistband of her panties. “Your request has been noted,” says Dani, her voice even and sort of mockingly robotic. “Please allow three to four business for—”

Jamie’s laugh cuts her off, fingers combing through her hair until Dani finally lifts her eyes to look at her again. “Dani, I love you,” she says.

“I love you, too.”

“But you have to do something, or I’m going to—”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Dani catches the edge of Jamie’s panties between her teeth and begins to pull them down like that, laughing around the material as Jamie wiggles and shifts her hips, giggling like a maniac, to try and help. Eventually, hands are required to finish the job. Jamie isn’t actually sure what Dani was thinking.

Goofy, ridiculous Dani. She’s the only woman Jamie’s ever loved, the only woman she’s been able to laugh in bed with, and she went out and bought sexy lingerie, called a number from a commercial to get the proper mood music, sat here on their bed on Valentine’s Day to surprise her.

Jamie doesn’t understand her life, doesn’t understand how she could possibly ever deserve this.

Once her panties are all the way gone and Jamie is naked, save for her bra, Dani’s eyes linger between her legs, a loose smile fixed on those pretty lips. “There you are,” she says.

“There I am,” Jamie exhales, shakily. “Now—”

She should be expecting it, but she isn’t, and so Jamie makes the most embarrassing sound ever when Dani’s tongue first makes contact. An electric shock between her legs, a match being struck, and she arches a little too much off the bed, one of her arms going back so she can comb her fingers through her own hair. Slams her eyes shut to keep from coming almost immediately—this won’t be her only chance, she’s sure of it, but she wants this first one to last—and then has to look, so she opens them back up.

And Dani is always a sight between her legs like this, but she’s on her knees and bent down in a way that makes her breasts hang deliciously, bumping a bit as she licks and curls her lips around Jamie’s clit. Jamie brings her other hand down and brushes her hair out of the way, over her shoulder, so she can see her mouth work.

“Fucking fuck, Dani,” she says, so eloquent with a beautiful woman bobbing between her legs.

Dani hums in response and Jamie can’t help it, groans a little too loudly. That fucking silk robe and the contrast of purple lace to pale skin, blonde hair fisted in her hand, and then Dani brings one of her hands up and slips a finger inside and Jamie feels, very suddenly, like she is splitting apart at every seam that’s ever kept her together.

The sound of Dani fucking her like this is almost obscene. It’s slick and loud, the suction of her mouth audible as she alternates movements against Jamie’s clit. She’s smiling despite how busy her mouth is and then she slips a second finger in, then a third.

It’s so hot, sweat pearling on her chest and forehead. Her hair feels damp at the base of her skull, she feels sort of like she has a fever but everywhere, and fuck—

She nearly bites through her bottom lip as she comes, trying to keep quiet. Her pulse drums like waves on the shore as it whitewashes through her ears, her veins.

Dani pulls back, licking her lips clean sloppily and her eyes are so dark that Jamie feels like she's burning again in moments.

“Come here,” she croaks, propping herself up on her elbows. Hopes that Dani knows what she means.

She must, though, because she doesn’t come up on the side of the bed. Instead, she just straddles Jamie’s waist, giving Jamie a full and uninterrupted view of what she’s wearing again.

“God,” is the next thing she says. Then, “You know how to pick ’em, huh?” as she tugs a bit on the end of the robe.

Dani smiles, somehow shy despite everything else. “You like it then?” she asks, like she has no idea, like she didn’t just fuck Jamie stupid while wearing the sexiest thing to ever exist. “Successful Valentine’s Day?”

Jamie rolls her eyes affectionately. “And the award for Understatement of the Year goes to—”

Dani pushes at her shoulder, giggling. “Hey,” she says. “Give me a break. I stuck out like a sore thumb in the shop I got this from.”

“I doubt that.”

“No, really! Like, three shop girls came over to help me because I was so lost.” She looks so sincerely flustered by this that Jamie can’t help but be endeared by it. “They kept asking me what my ‘boyfriend’—” and she uses air quotes there, “—likes to see me in. What his favorite color is.”

Jamie laughs. “What did you say?”

“I told them I didn’t have a boyfriend.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“And what did they say to that?”

“They asked me what my husband likes then.”

Jamie nearly chokes on her tongue from laughing so hard. Almost knocks Dani to the floor, too.

And, yeah, it’s a pretty successful Valentine’s Day.

[tartareus]

Fiona Goode as layers !

LAYER ONE : THE OUTSIDE

NAME -   fiona borgia vandenheuvel goode

EYE COLOUR -   vivid hazel although her gaze visibly darkens when she’s angry

HAIR STYLE / COLOUR -   like her father before her fiona has golden blonde hair, a family genetic trait that seemed to almost skip her daughter. fiona personally hates it when her hair is too long and has never had it any longer than at shoulder length. naturally straight with the odd curls at the tips, the supreme likes to keep a classic look that is just hers, with hair cascading down in gentle waves framing her face, but with a modern air to it. eventually, when she begins to lose her hair, fiona takes on wearing wigs ( high quality ones that try to mimic what her hair was like but just won’t curl right ) and headwraps sometimes

HEIGHT -   5ft 8 / 1,73m,  that tall and still refusing to wear heels that are smaller than 5 inch

CLOTHING STYLE -  black, copious amounts of it. it is not just because she is a widow, she has been fond of the colour ever since she was a teen and not only she finds it classy and charming, it also helps that it gives her an even more threatening and severe look. the cut is flattering, hugging her curves pleasantly but not too much as she’d rather take a classy look than a sexy one anytime. in the odd occasion that she wears other colours, she goes straight to red - vivid blood red or the dark crimson piece she loves so much. she's never wearing cheap stuff - hell, even her sleepwear is from chanel - because fiona loves fancy things, always has && will not hesitate to spoil herself buying them. overall she is stylish, even if she hardly ever leaves her comfort zone and drops the classics that are her favourites , like chanel and prada.

BEST PHYSICAL FEATURE -    to me, it’s her jawline (she’s got a jawline for days - beautiful), but if you were to ask her she’d probably say it’s her legs. they are long, smooth and give her a lean look && while she knows there’s nothing particularly special about them fiona has learnt to use her legs in a way that could easily rival marlene dietrich.

LAYER TWO : THE INSIDE

FEARS -   her own death, losing cordelia for good, lack of power, not being loved, being lonely,witch hunters

GUILTY PLEASURE - oh boy, i could say so many things here - sex, alcohol, manipulating people - but let’s be honest she’s not feeling guilty about any of these, they’re just plain pleasures for her. so i’m going with the REAL deal here: crispy spicy fried chicken ! i kid you not ! catch fiona smuggling into the academy some kfc in the middle of the night after she’s done some shit like killing a student or digging up a racist psycho, that is all the comfort food she needs.

BIGGEST PET PEEVE - lack of respect, insubordination and incompetence, seriously...the quickest way to get her to turn your brain into scrambled eggs is by doing any of these. she will not have it.

AMBITIONS FOR THE FUTURE - tbh it really depends on the verse, it used to be becoming the supreme, then it became being powerful. i think, in the way i chose to play her, it’s keep her powers and position as supreme as she becomes immortal ; on a side track, patching up things with her daughter is one of her goals, but it never really makes it to her main ambition.

LAYER THREE : THOUGHTS

FIRST THOUGHTS UPON WAKING UP -   when she’s not waking up with a random joe or jane ( in which she wakes up like “who the hell is that? get out.”) beside her, considering the amount of alcohol she drinks, fiona usually wakes up with a hangover and a thundering headache so it’s something along the lines of “  goddamnit, close the drapes ! where's that  painkiller ?? ”

WHAT YOU THINK ABOUT MOST -   “what can i do to get what i want ?” she’s always after ways to get something for herself, manipulate people so they are useful for her

WHAT YOU THINK ABOUT BEFORE BED -   she takes a stiff drink and wishes there was someone to hold her - wishing that she truly had someone there for her, because at the end of the day, after parties and fancy meetings, that’s exactly what fiona is: alone and lonely.

WHAT YOUR BEST QUALITY IS -   she gets shit done, just goes for it with heart and soul - oh, wait...she doesn’t have one...well, semantics aside, she really applies 100% of herself to whatever she does. that dedication extends to her love life too. she might not be the most romantic person around and will try and manipulate things into her favour but if she really likes you she will do everything in her power to make it clear that you matter and that she cares about you.

LAYER FOUR : WHAT’S BETTER ?

SINGLE OR GROUP DATES - she does well in parties and places full of people, she’s extroverted and can be oh so charming and sweet when she wants to, but she’d prefer single dates if she’s serious - especially in the beginning - as they are more private and intimate. once she feels confident that this relationship might work, she’ll be happy enough to show you off to pretty much everybody she knows ( and take the opportunity to claim you as her own, as a way to mark her territory because she sucks at sharing )

TO BE LOVED OR RESPECTED -   love never got her that far, respect is fickle so it’s neither, she’d rather be feared. the respect would come after this.

BEAUTY OR BRAINS -   brains, always, what’s the point of looking good and being a total idiot ? she values beauty (in herself and in others) but nothing compares to a cunning mind.

DOGS OR CATS - it might come as a surprise, given her own feline nature, but fiona loves dogs and always wanted to have one but...well, she doesn’t want to clean up after them && have all the responsibility that comes with having one so...she’d rather not have them to save herself from the headache.

LAYER FIVE : DO YOU…

LIE -   it might be surprising how much she tells the truth to be honest ? fiona is a truth teller, as crass and mean as that truth might come out, by default except when she lies, a shame is: she has to lie way too often.

BELIEVE IN YOURSELF - oh, she’ll make it seem like she’s THE shit, like she knows everything and that YOU need her... but does that meet her own standards ? no. she despises false modesty ( fiona knows she’s smart and powerful, no denying on her vain nature ) but she is, deep down, a little insecure

BELIEVE IN LOVE -   "pft, love is for fools and silly school girls.” yes, of course she does.

WANT SOMEONE - yes.

LAYER SIX : EVER BEEN …

BEEN ON STAGE - in fancy parties when she has to talk about someone and once when she went along with stevie in a tour 

DONE DRUGS – the million dollar question that should be asked here is which drugs fiona hasn’t done yet ?

CHANGED WHO YOU WERE TO FIT IN - no, she’d rather change the people around her than change herself.

LAYER SEVEN : FAVOURITES

FAVOURITE COLOUR -   black and red. she despises pastels because she never looked good on them

FAVOURITE ANIMAL – panthers.

FAVOURITE MOVIE - she'll say she likes some obscure french movie full of philosophy and complex female themes but that’s bullshit. in reality fiona is a slut for old hollywood movies like singing in the rain and to catch a thief, 80’s slashers and, surprise, the odd nancy meyers movie every once in a blue moon

FAVOURITE GAME – scheming, no just kidding…am i? chess is a bore to her, especially because she never really worked the nerve to learn the rules right. she’d take gin rummy and poker anytime ( not that she’s any good at them though )

LAYER EIGHT : AGE

DAY YOUR NEXT BIRTHDAY WILL BE -   october 17th,she’s a libra sun, leo rising with a scorpio moon

HOW OLD WILL YOU BE -   if she had lived long enough to actually have another birthday she’d be 63

AGE YOU LOST YOUR VIRGINITY -  18

DOES AGE MATTER – depends on the situation; by default she finds younger people annoying with all their antics and will not hesitate to tell them so.

LAYER NINE : IN A PERSON

BEST PERSONALITY -   someone who won’t be threatened by her or insecure by her status and actions, she likes confident and capable people, someone who won’t back down and won’t quit at the first issue they run into. someone fierce yet passionate, someone intriguing

BEST EYE COLOUR -   dark brown

BEST HAIR COLOUR – she’s usually attracted to brunettes and raven haired people.

BEST THING TO DO WITH A PARTNER -   sex. kidding, i mean, it really depends on the relationship and the partner ? she’s all for long conversations and dancing by the moonlight but she’s not the type who’ll be making grand love speeches, telling you how infatuated she is with you. Don’t expect any of that. She will however take you to places like paris and Greece, long vacations are a thing that Fiona is very prone to, especially with a partner.

LAYER TEN : FINISH THE SENTENCE

I LOVE -  “ the thrill of the hunt, my dance; I love the delicious high magic and power give me, that no drug could ever imitate.”

I FEEL -   “ like I’m slipping away, fading as the world goes on without me. ”

I HIDE -   “ how much i truly care. ”

I MISS -   “ loving and being loved. ”

I WISH -   “ cordelia would understand that all I’ve done was to make sure she was tough enough to be able to survive this ugly wide wicked world”

tagged by : no one, i just stole it lmao tagging:  @copiesofme​​ (dolores) ;  @bloodykneestm​​ (ransom) ; @rosemalice​​ (avis) ; @gdvas​​ (marie) ; @flyingupward​​ (imogene) ; @hismanners​​ && @fencetm​​ !! + anyone that wants to do this, just say i tagged ya !!

[alitheamateur]

The Grind- Chapter 8

Warnings: Language. Fluff.

A/N: OHHHH, CHAPTER 8, HOW I LOVE YOU. This is one of my favorite chapters in the entire book, and I only hope you do enjoy it! It’s Colton and Liv, intimately behind closed doors, just how I like them. AND, DRUM ROLL.....You’ll even get a little insight into the mind of our boy Colton Ritter!!!

(GIFS FROM GOOGLE)

I hadn’t attempted to track Colton down once the weigh in concluded. He had hands to shake, and plenty of pictures to pose for. And as for me, there were a few colleagues I needed to speak with amongst the mass of people as well, before stealing away to him upstairs. Kate was on the list, a reporter for one of the local television news stations, who happened to live in the same apartment complex as I did. We weren’t tight pals by any means, but always spoke in passing every morning before work, and there was the occasional invitation to her flat for a drink to unwind. As a matter of fact, it seemed unwinding was precisely what Kate had in mind this particular evening, too. Her whining insistence on sharing a Cosmo in the lounge wouldn’t cease unless I caved. But, I was certain to make it a clear point that I only had time for ONE quick drink, and discreetly sent Colton a text to inform him I may be arriving a little behind schedule. 

As promised, Kate let me part after a single drink order and some simple small talk over some perfectly salted mixed nuts. We exchanged predictions on how we thought tomorrow night would go and where she had bought the camel colored satchel bag she was displaying in the seat next to her. Then, out of the sheer goodness of my heart, I even sat quietly listening to the horror story of her latest blind date mishap. Bless that poor girl, she really was a catch. Confident, very intelligent, lightyears ahead of other anchors in the city her age. To most men though, her every quality was one that intimidated their sensitive ego, making it a struggle to find a match who would encourage her success, rather than smother it.

I left her alone in the bar with her sorrows, honestly feeling a bit bad for abandoning her to drown them, then aimlessly wandered to find the elevator. Thankfully, I reach Colton’s floor without any company in the confines of the metal box. Creepy, awkward elevator conversation was #4 on the list of things I hated as much as cherry licorice.  I walked down the lengthy hallway lined with plum and green patterned carpet, then patted two light knocks on room 1893, and waited zealously. My toes patted in anticipation, and my lips buzzed a bit from the leftover coating of my stout Cosmopolitan.  The door opened surprisingly quick after my tapping by a handsome fellow adorning a pair of light grey boxer shorts.

“Damn, I was really hopin’ you were that pizza I ordered from downstairs.”

I kicked the door open further sending him back to hit the papered wall to the left, and he snuffled from a closed mouth grin.

“Sorry to disappoint,” I snarled. “And come on now, Ritter. You can’t be opening your door looking like that. You’ll have the maids brawling for who gets to bring up your extra towels.” I gestured a hand toward him, alluding to his quite painfully sexy, underwear model-esque appearance.

The tv was muted on ESPN, only a gold desk lamp casting light into the rather large room. A king size bed stationed closest to the wall with the double windows, covers unturned, and curtains drawn. Faint music danced over my ears, something from the classic rock genre. Journey, maybe? Our taste in music had thankfully been another similarity discovered sometime in the days of our courtship. I bent over removing one shoe at a time, to hurl them in the corner. I so loved my beautiful collection of pumps, but my feet could only take small doses. My ankles begged for my past preference of high-top tennis to return.

“So, I thought we’d just hang out in bed. Watch a movie or somethin’? I kinda just wanna relax. Unless you wanna go out? I can get dressed.” His words offered to go out, but his crooked eyebrow & pursed lips said otherwise.

“Staying in is perfect, babe. As long as you promise to share that pizza you’ve got comin’. Black olives?”

“Yep. Jalapeños only on my half.” It was miracle. I had found a man who compromised on the most important thing in my life. Food.

“You know the way to my heart, Colt.” I smoothed tiny circles with my flattened hand over the comforter of the bed, enticing him to join me. Rather than lightly crawling up next to me, he lunged wildly to flop weightlessly in the empty spot.

“I brought ya’ a t-shirt if you wanna change. It’s in my bag by the bathroom, I think. Figured you’d be wearin’ one of those sexy lil’ business suits you’re always prancin’ around in t’ torture me.” He reiterated his remark by grazing the small line of my exposed stomach. “I didn’t want cha’ to be uncomfortable all night.”

“All night? Is that an invitation? Whatever on earth would make you think I’d want to spend the night in this gorgeous hotel room with you, Colton?” I threw a hand to my chest and closed my eyes in a prudish manner.

“ ‘Cause you, Liv Caroline Elliot, just cannot resist me.”

Although he was right, I wasn’t about to give in defeatedly and just admit guilt. He always gave an effort to come off so self-confident, and poised even, like he himself was the holy grail to mankind. Somewhat similar to how Mendez carried himself. But, I was well aware it was all an exterior front for the twisted, emotional mess he was inside. He was like one of those candies with the crunchy, seemingly unbreakable shell that had smooth filling in the middle. By this point I had pretty well pulverized that outer layer, and it really wasn’t as difficult as imagined.

“You’re just so sure about that, aren’t ya’? But I think I could say the same when it comes to you, my overly confident friend.” One finger prodded his flexed peck.

“I think we both know I can’t resist ya’, two-one. And I ain’t a bit scared to say so.” I had sat up ready to climb from the bed and retrieve the t-shirt he mentioned, but was immediately yanked in a near whiplash motion down on top of him. He gave me a look that I wished I could bottle up and carry in my purse every day. It was a look of total admiration, torturous passion, and loving fulfilment. There were no smiles, or laughing from either of us. The room was simply clouded with a haze of love so thick it was nearly visible to the human eye. I grazed my nose to his, not daring to disrupt the conversation our eyes were exchanging, and kissed him with opened lids. It was returned, with his addition of a spirited squeeze to my tail. One thing I had noted about Colton, was he could draw me into the deepest depths of a moment, hold it for delayed second or two, then undoubtedly jerk away from the overwhelming rush of emotion like he had been stung by an angry bee. But I’d wait for him to open the heavy iron gate to that conversation regarding his slightly detached demeanor.

“I love you, Colt.”

“And I love you, gorgeous. Now, go’n get changed. Imma pick a movie for us.”

The path of my outfit left behind me was enough payback for the little winking stunt he pulled earlier at the weigh in.

By the time I appeared from the bathroom, the pizza had been delivered, the covers turned back, a 6-pack on the night stand, and an unbelievably attractive man awaiting me. My makeup washed off and hair knotted into a messy bun, I was pant-less wearing a baggy soft t-shirt that smelled of Colton’s bodywash, and ready to sink into bed with him. I didn’t want tomorrow to come because I was certain there was no way it could measure up to this.  

“Okay, so we got The Purge, or one of my personal favorites, the classic Harold & Kumar go to White Castle. You pick.”

“Shouldn’t we watch something like Fight Club, or, I don’t know… Rocky instead? That seems more your style.” I suggested raising one knee on the bed to boost myself up into the chill of the sheets. I loved the way his tanned, furry legs looked bold against the bleached white of the bedsheets.

“Although Rocky does top my movie list any day of the week, I can watch things that don’t involve fist to face violence, you punk. I ain’t a total adrenaline whore. I’ll have you know that I even saw The Notebook. Twice.” He informed me very matter of factly.

“I’m gonna go out on a limb here & say that date ended very well for you.” My mouth mimicked the act of vomit thinking about the lines he cooed into the ears of that poor girl causing her to all but leap into bed with him.

“Is somebody jealous? C’mon now, babe. Past is the past.”

There had only been one suitor he had been semi-serious with previously. Her name was Amber, they dated for 6 months, and he caught her in the locker room at Mac’s in a quite compromising position with his Physical Therapist. That was really all the details he shared, & it was definitely all I needed to hear. However, I knew his lack of romantic relationships was plenty compensated by his plethora of casual sex partners. The fact that he was experienced was extremely clear to me after that night in the ring at the gym. He worked fervently taking metal notes of what dips in my skin he could kiss that caused a gentle hum of pleasure, and which ones caused an almost violent writhing. 14 partners in his twenty-six years, a number I was far from comfortable with, but it wasn’t about to send me running scared either.

“Your past just seems to be a lot more.. eventful than mine.”  I admitted placing the sweating beer bottle between my greasy lips, and dropped my head in sheepish discomfort.

“First of all, you know damn well that don’t mean shit to me. You gotta think more of me than that, Livvy. ‘N second, that’s just all the more fun I get to have bein’ your little teacher, huh?” Both brows raised and fell in unison at his perverse inuendo.

“Get over yourself, PUH-LEASE.”

By this very crude point in the conversation, he’d eaten his entire hearty side of the pizza in addition to two slices of my black olive half, and I was 3 beers deep. The chatting began rolling so immensely, the tv remained off, and instead we’d left his iPod to shuffle at random through his vast array of musical tastes. We prodded question upon question about the other, shoveling for every fiber of detail we could harvest.  I was stunned in utter disbelief that he had never even been out of the country, and he seemed nearly repulsed in the discovery that I still wasn’t a Steelers fan despite living in The Burgh for coming up on three years. At some point I can’t recall, he stepped from the bed to open the drawn curtains, exposing the twinkling illuminations of the still very lively city even at the hour approaching 1 a.m.

He observed the world below him like he had created this kingdom himself. Colton was Pittsburgh through and through down to the marrow, and I wouldn’t change it for all the money in the world. The grouping of blue moonlight and changing street lights coated him in a glow almost angelic. He was laid smooth on his back, a bended arm beneath is pillow, and I laid in sideways position with my head situated across the rippling muscles of his inked abdomen, his fingers twirled lazily around an escaped hair from my updo. With passing minutes his words slowly developed a raspy, almost thorny tenor and his answering and asking of questions now more dawdled. He was like a tenacious child battling the certain feeling of sleep that enraptured him, afraid he may miss a revelation of crucial importance if he dozed off.

“Baby, I know I haven’t told you, but I want ya’ to know your article is really, really excellent. And I’m damn proud a’ ya’.“

I was confused at the compliment since he hadn’t read as much as one sentence from my piece yet. “Colt, it’s not even done yet. And how would you know since you’ve yet to see it, ya’ goof.”

“It’s your work, Liv. You’re a natural, kinda like me with fighting, ya’ know? It’s what we do best. And besides, you’re always sayin’ how proud you are of me, so I want ya’ to know someone feels that way about you, too. You got no idea how amazing you really are, do ya’ girl?”

His compliments nearly made tears spill from my welling eyes. This simple, yet so utterly perplexing man loved me to his core. I could feel it in his words right that second, and in the way his scarred knuckles brushed my cheek sending a shockwave of serenity to my soul. I had never fallen so deeply for someone in such a way, much less in just a few months’ time, and I was honestly terrified at every feeling I harbored for him. I shifted to rest my palms on his chest making eye contact with his flecked eyes.

“Why are you always so good to me, huh? Better be careful, babe.. People may think you’re going soft.” I warned, raising my brows to appear concerned.

“Oh, but you’ll be able to assure them that Colton Ritter is far, farrrrr from soft, baby…” One swift, lascivious movement now rendered me pinned at my sides by both wrists under two strong, veined hands. Although the act seemed to be hinting toward a much more lustful direction, he simply touched his lips to the corner of my slightly gaped mouth with a single extended kiss, lilting a melodious “I love you.”

                                                        Colton

She dozed off an hour or so before I had. The barely noticeable, gentle buzzing of her snoring mouth gave her away. The cotton-like thickness of my dry tongue screamed for a drink shortly after, so I had to scoot her head from crease of my arm, careful not to pull on the hair fluffed on top of her head. She had wallowed trying to get comfortable, I’m sure the damn hardness of my bicep wasn’t the best replacement for a pillow, and tangled strands of her blonde hair were brushing over her lashes. I often wished maybe I could give the gym a little break, and soften up a bit. Just so she’d be able to sleep tucked into my chest at night without feeling like she’d get a black eye if I moved the wrong way.

My high-school wresting t-shirt she slept in climbed up her belly, exposing more of the clean shade of white boy-shorts she wore underneath, and a teasing curve of the underside of her breast. I had seen my fair share of naked women in life, more beyond Liv’s level of comfort. But her? Damn it… She wasn’t Playboy, plastic lipped, and chiseled from head to toe like most empty fuckers like me would look for. Liv’s beauty was more palatable, and desirable to the real man. Beauty that maybe most people would miss out on. But me? She entranced me the minute she stabbed me with those emerald green eyes.

Her buttery soft skin, her blonde hair usually wild like the winds of Chicago. Not the kitchen sink blonde like you’d see down at the infested strip clubs downtown either. No, this was the sunshine yellow she was born with. Sandy, smooth blonde intertwined with some strands of caramel like the inside of a chewy candy bar..

Her perfect, pink, creamy buds painted rosy circles on the inside of the thin cotton of her shirt, and I thought very much that she might’ve been the sexiest thing I had ever seen. The screaming hard on pinned under my boxers said so. And despite the trickle of drool out the side of her slumbering mouth, and the smearing black of yesterday’s makeup stained under her eyes, I couldn’t look away. As if I’d even want to. And hell, if I wasn’t in love with this Indiana girl in every sense of the word.

                                                         Liv

Despite my desperate prayers for time to halt for just one night, it insisted on passing into the morning. I had slid from the bed just before dawn to close the dark curtains of the room, wanting to make sure he got undisturbed, restful sleep for what this day was going to require from him. And selfishly, it as also an attempt to keep our room as black as the unexplored ocean, foolishly thinking maybe the rising sun would just pass us by if I didn’t allow its light in. We had eventually forced ourselves to sleep the night before, after several attempts to kiss goodnight. One kiss, lead to three more, which lead to fifteen more, each holding more and more desire to carry those kisses elsewhere over the span of the other persons body. But, painfully so, I squandered it insisting he better get some shut eye.

Now, the digital clock on the nightstand closest to his side of the bed flashed 5:49 a.m., and I expected his internal clock to start stirring him very soon. From the sliver of dawn intruding through the minimal crack of the patterned drapes, I watched him sleep. Admired would be a better word. His lids smoothly sealed, no crinkles of struggle about them, and his mouth gently puckered. I made mental note of his naturally suntanned, unscathed face in the state it was now, knowing full well tonight would render it not so.  There were no bruises, no splits in his lips, no blackened eyes. He was the nearest thing to physical perfection I had ever laid eyes on. I hoped he couldn’t sense my focused staring.

Suddenly, I felt a growing itch in my nose, a building sneeze approaching. Trying at all costs to avoid waking his lifeless form, I pinched my nostrils shut in effort to trap the noise from escaping. However, the harsh flinch my body released sent a jolt over the entire mattress. Colt inhaled a loud, groggy breath and stretched his hand to grasp for my side of the bed.

“Hey, you,” he said rubbing the rest from his waking eyes.

The hearty drift of his accent from the hours of 4 to 9 a.m. could very near send me straight into orgasm.

“Sorry, babe. I tried not to wake you.”

He rolled over to face me dragging his arm around my waist to pull me into his chest, I smiled and draped a bare leg over his warm body.

“I ain’t got no problem at all gettin’ woken up by the likes a’ you, baby.” He crowded me with a drowsy kiss, his tongue curling slightly under my top lip. I could feel him rattle with laughter at the sensual pant he sucked out of me.

“You’re not so bad yourself, sir. How’d you sleep?”

“Like a baby with a full belly. You?”

I kicked back the covers, breaking the wall of warmth it had closed around us and scooted to raise on the edge of the bed.

“Great. I’m thinking of getting one of these mattresses for my place. It may take up every inch of my entire bedroom, but it’d be well worth it.”

“Hey hey hey, where you think you’re going, little lady?!” Colton was propped on both arms, scowling at me under a lined forehead. “You ain’t even gonna have breakfast with a man? I feel so cheap.”

Always so witty, this one. “I just assumed you had a lot on your agenda today, Colt. I don’t want to hover.”

I was puzzled constantly over when to stick around, and when to leave him be. Appear as committed, but not obsessed. Interested but not overbearing. I had never been with an older man before, were the rules different?  Sure, he was only 26 to my almost 23, but nonetheless older. Did the “hard to get rule” expire with men in their late-twenties?

“Livvy, stop worryin’, baby. Mornings before a fight are actually pretty laid back. I’ll spend most of the day with my headphones in my ears, prolly take a dip in the jacuzzi,” he was rolling his eyes, motioning his hands back and forth to explain the boring schedule of his day. “Then, meet the guys in Mac’s room to talk things out before we head to the venue. So, at least lemme order us some room service so I can enjoy breakfast with my girl, ight? Unless you got somethin’ else I could eat for breakfast? It’s the most important meal of the day, y’know…”

Damn this pig. This sexy, magnificently tantalizing pig.

I hurled the hotel menu on the desk speedily toward him, “Cold shower, Ritter. Cold shower.”

If he wanted breakfast in bed with me, who I was I to deny? Rolling my puffy morning eyes at him, I crept back into bed.

“Waffles, please! And bacon. Oh! Fruit on the side, too. And coffee. Don’t forget coffee.”

Like he said, breakfast is the most important meal of the day, right?

The man was impressed with my appetite for food, among other things as well. “Yes, ma’am!” he obliged. “Anythin’ else for the princess?”

“Maybe some whipped cream? For the waffles, of course….”

I was even surprised at myself for the boldness he brought out in me. Sex was a very.. taboo thing back home. Matter of fact, I never even got “the talk” from my parents, and instead was left to the uneducated murmurs of my fellow sheltered classmates. But with Colton, I felt audacious when it came to the topic. Mind you, the things he said most of the time could sent me blushing under the table, but I was growing more comfortable with his dirty remarks and was even starting to throw in my own ornery overtone on occasion.

“Oh shit. You a damn tease, Liv Elliott. A dirty, dirty tease.”

Our indulgent spread of breakfast variety was carted to the door in a very prompt fashion. I obviously indulged more than he, devouring two Belgian waffles, 3 strips of the crispiest peppered bacon I’d ever had the pleasure of eating, a grapefruit, and two cups of coffee. He enlightened me that he could’ve eaten every morsel in front of him, but it wouldn’t be a good idea to cram all the carbs and fat into his stomach, in case it made him feel sluggish. So, regretfully it was egg whites, two slices of dry wheat toast, and a protein shake for him. I did entice him to take just one bite of my syrup sopped waffle though.

“Sheesh, I’m gonna need a solid nap later to recover from that overload.” I crashed backwards onto the feather pillow behind me, crossing my hands over the settling food baby in my stomach.

“Hey, do me a favor will ya’? Wear that sexy fuckin’ leather jacket o’ yours I like so much tonight? I know I won’t see ya’ before the fight, but I want you to wear it out to celebrate after. My little badass, front-page writer out on the town.” He was kissing my individual fingertips one at a time.

“Sounds like you’ve got it all planned out then.” My gut bubbled with hope that tonight would bring to pass every detail he had said. Him, the newly crowned Middleweight Champ on my arm, and me, the newest front-page writer for the Pitt Pilot. Could life be that perfect for us?

“Course. A man with a plan.”  I admired how he trampled every aspect of life with blinding confidence, and I wished he could somehow hypnotize me to do the same. “As much as I hate to leave good company, babe, I should get home. Let you get all angry and pouty and what not.” I sighed into a near pout, sincerely wishing I could spend the entire day as a part of his prep team.

“You’re probably right, baby doll. I can’t believe Mac ain’t been here beatin’ my door down yet.”

I was gathering my day-old clothes to redress, and Colt rose to begin lightly packing his gym bag. He threw in an unfolded change of shorts, his red headphones, then I saw him pick up the gloves I’d gifted him.

“C’mere, two-one..” I zipped my khakis up and lifted my hair out from under the neck of my shirt, then obliged to his request. He held one glove in each hand and squared them even to my chin. 

“Kiss ‘em for luck?”

My heart hiccupped, and I topped his hands with mine and dipped my puckered lips to the padded mitts with an audible “mwah.”

“That’s it. The magic touch! The final nail in that jackoff Mendez’s coffin. A kiss of luck from my girl. Now, got one more kiss on that pretty little mouth for these?” he begged, one finger pointing to his own sinful lips.

I closed in on him with fierce eye contact. “I think I may have just one little measly kiss left in here somewhere for you, champ.”

My mouth was so close to his that the words nearly vibrated off of his parting lips, and I gently cupped his dimpled cheek. It was a lethal concoction made of salaciousness and loving romance that was slowly poisoning my entire body with bliss. Colton’s hand swept down the side of my head, combing through the tangled hair he had gathered it into his fist at the back of my neck. I was locked to him and I never knew being captured could feel so, so good. My tongue covered almost every surface in his mouth, mapping it out. He withdrew and I could feel his lips spreading upward into a smile.

“Wow. I think I may need to drown myself in an ice bath now. A cold shower ain’t gonna wipe that one outta my mind.”

I was pleased that I had to same affect on him, and his did on me.

“Good luck tonight. You don’t need it. You’ve got this. Step into that cage ready to battle. Clear eyes, okay? I love you, Colt.”

“Clear eyes. I got it, baby. And I love you too, Elliott. More than you fuckin’ know.”

TAGS: @torialeysha @eap1935

[allaboutaemin]

Looking back at K-pop group SHINee’s extraordinary 10-year career

T/W: Death, suicide.

We speak to people close to the band to trace the making of six of their iconic songs over a decade of triumph and tragedy 

When SHINee debuted in 2008, K-pop looked very different to how it does today. Although a phenomenon within Asia, it was distinctively niche in the west. The industry, however, was moving forward, particularly in terms of the production quality of its music and videos, and on May 25, SHINee’s Onew, Minho, Jonghyun, Key, and youngest member Taemin (who was only 14 at the time) joined K-pop’s burgeoning ranks. Their debut was the sweet mid-tempo R&B song “Replay”, and their home was SM Entertainment, the long-standing entertainment giant who were, at the time, experiencing major success with another boy group, Super Junior. What set SHINee apart from other K-pop groups was “the harmonic trinity of fresh new sounds, their vigorous nature, and the creative visuals”, says SM’s creative director Min Hee-Jin, who has worked with the group since the beginning. Contemporary R&B has always been SHINee’s base sound, but as early as 2009 they were reaching towards sophisticated funk, lush ballads, and electronica, and would balance this exploration with the powerful, layered vocals that had became their signature. Min singles out their second album Romeo as a turning point for the group, visually as well as musically: in the video for bubbly electro-pop song “Juliette”, the members sported bright clothes and clashing accessories that accentuated their youthfulness. “The visualisation of that album reflected their identity the best,” she recalls. “I aimed to put the group’s signature colour (pearl aqua) on the map, as well as each member’s individual style.” In December last year, mere months away from their 10-year anniversary, news broke that 27-year-old Jonghyun had died by suicide. Although SHINee hadn’t released anything during that year, the members had been busy, with acclaimed solo albums by Taemin and Jonghyun, and acting gigs for Minho and Key. The gut-wrenching shock and outpouring of grief following Jonghyun’s death brought the industry to a standstill. Devastated ‘Shawols’ (a term for individuals within the group’s fandom, SHINee World) flocked to social media to try and make sense of their loss, even today leaving daily messages on Jonghyun’s Instagram posts. In the numb months that followed, Jonghyun’s already completed Poet | Artist album was released, and SHINee performed a previously scheduled Japanese concert as a farewell to their bandmate. Having been encouraged by Jonghyun’s mother to continue making music together, the four members began to pick up the pieces, eventually celebrating their 10th anniversary with a new album and a fanmeet, where Minho humbly asked for fans’ support as they moved forward with their lives. To celebrate SHINee’s 10th anniversary, we’ve looked at six of the most significant singles they released since their debut, and spoke to some of the people who helped make them what they were. “RING DING DONG”, OCTOBER 16, 2009 SHINee won several new act categories at Asian music awards in their first year, but it was the 2009, The Year Of Us EP that accelerated their trajectory. Out was the R&B of their debut single, and in was “Ring Ding Dong”s rhymically dense ‘afro-electro’ (as SM Entertainment call it). The group’s jeans and bowl cuts were replaced with aggressive red, black, and grey styling, and feathered hair. “The idea that got me started was creating a melody with a bongo sound,” says composer and lyricist Yoo Young-Jin, who wrote and arranged several of SHINee’s hits. “SHINee might have felt puzzled when they first heard it. They probably never imagined they’d receive a song in this style.” A heavily produced earworm about the shock of falling in love, “Ring Ding Dong” is unarguably a product of its musically outré time, the period (roughly 2008-2011) commonly known within the genre as ‘K-pop’s Golden Age’. The melody’s power to ingrain, however, hasn’t dimmed (it’s since been refreshed as a killer rock version, with its bongo rhythms front and centre, and as an ambitious rock/electro mashup), and the hook and dance is still so adored that Minho, Onew, and Jonghyun played it into an appearance on Korea’s Saturday Night Live in 2015. “I can’t forget when I first saw their dance practice video. Watching them perform with fire in their eyes completely captivated me,” says Yoo Young-Jin. “No matter how long the recording took, Jonghyun always sung with the same energy for the main vocals, (the) dubbing, (and) even the chorus. It was the same for Onew – he said he didn’t mind re-recording, no matter how many times he had to do so. Taemin, the youngest, but with the most ambition; Key with the special and unique charms; and Minho, who always fulfilled his role perfectly within the overall performances – it was a joy to work on their music.” “SHERLOCK”, MARCH 21, 2012 By 2012, Danish songwriter/producer Thomas Troelsen was a veteran collaborator with SM Entertainment, attracted, he says, by their “taking risks on really insane records. When I write for these guys, I try to think of it as a science-fiction project.” Following a year of shows and Japanese promotions, “Sherlock” was SHINee’s first Korean single since 2010’s winsome “Hello”; it was also K-pop’s first ever ‘hybrid remix’, seamlessly joining two album cuts (the new jack swing of “Clue” and the striding, percussive “Note”) that Troelsen also penned. The idea came from a senior A&R at SM, and the result is coy one moment and showy the next, with the harmonies on the chorus exploding as the group execute a sliding march forward, a little like an upright Russian folk dance. US choreographer Tony Testa says he tried to “create the illusion” that each of the members were “alone, retracing memories, their blurred bodies trailing behind as if trying to piece together their lives”. “It was my first experience in K-pop, but I could see they could dance well, so I brought choreography I felt would help them grow,” he adds. “They worked so hard. I think they were at a phase in their careers when they knew they had something special and really wanted to prove themselves.” The song’s complexity, and SHINee’s performance (particularly the confrontational energy live) signalled a coming of age for the band. Their metamorphosis, which had included controversially sexy teasers that shocked Shawols accustomed to seeing their idols as boyish or, at most, slightly outlandish, was timely – a new generation of idols, including labelmates EXO, were arriving to steal old crowns. “Sherlock”, however, allowed SHINee to step into a sphere that was entirely their own. “EVERYBODY”, OCTOBER 14, 2013 “We show something new with every release,” Onew told The Korea Times in 2012. “Initially, we can feel a bit awkward (in the new shoes), but then we fill them.” Around this time, K-pop songs were frequently incorporating dubstep but, rather than emulate others, “Everybody” juxtaposed SHINee’s melodic sensibilities with the grinding wub-wub of ‘complextro’ (complex electro). “The first time I heard the song, it reminded me of being a kid,” says Tony Testa. “The odd mechanical sounds were like (the) wind-up teeth and action figures I used to play with.” His childhood memories formed the backbone of the song’s choreography and influenced the video’s concept, in which Minho ‘winds up’ the members, dressed as toy soldiers. The “go-go gadget helicopter” move is a stand out for Testa, particularly live – he says he was “continually amending the dance because the track went through so many changes.” It’s also a tribute to the producers’ considerate touch, and SHINee’s vocal strength, that despite the pressing weight of complextro’s hallmarks, it holds a carefree lightness to match its breezy lyrics. “‘Everybody’ would have never worked in Europe – never ever,” says Thomas Troelsen, unwittingly pinpointing why so many westerners, hungry for new approaches to pop, often fall for K-pop. It sounds like nothing else from that era (nor would SHINee make another song like it), but as a benchmark for K-pop’s audaciousness and SHINee’s chameleonic allure, “Everybody” is unforgettable. “VIEW”, MAY 18, 2015 Before British writers/producers Greg Bonnick and Hayden Chapman, aka LDN Noise, made a mark with some of K-pop’s biggest songs (including EXO’s “Monster” and Red Velvet’s “Dumb Dumb”), they were obsessed with SHINee’s “Sherlock”. “(It) was a song and MV we really fell in love with on discovering K-pop – the vocals, the styling, everything,” says Bonnick. When it came to writing “View”, their first credit for SHINee, he says they “wanted to create something fresh rather than trying to do what K-pop had already done. ​We were vibing in the studio and once it started coming together on the topline and production, it was one of the quickest turnarounds from writing a song to it actually coming out​.” The ease with which SHINee’s vocals carry the understated instrumental is remarkable; Jonghyun’s graceful lyrics float high and strong above the cyclical bass, while members double up on lines of verse for extra colour and bring an endearing playfulness to the ad-libs. The faithful adoption of deep house influences eliminates K-pop’s showstopping choruses, but gives the track a lean, elastic quality. The video’s depiction of youthful, summery freedom also broke new ground for SHINee, with Thailand’s back streets replacing the glossy soundstages of their previous videos. As much as K-pop’s ingrained rigidity allowed for, it was naturalistic and intimate, helping make “View” a pronounced and successful change of sound and visual identity. “TELL ME WHAT TO DO”, NOVEMBER 16, 2016 “Tell Me What To Do” began life penned by Americans, including the Grammy-nominated Mike Daley and Grammy-winning Dewain Whitmore Jr, before being rearranged by Yoo Young-Jin. “I vividly remember we changed melody and the lyrics in the hook so many times that I lost count,” says Yoo. “Normally, we modify it once or twice.” SHINee ended up recording it “five or six times”. The track’s magnificent ruse is that for all the lightness of its dance-orientated sound, its true nature is saturated in melancholy and pain. “When you think of breaking up with a loved one, you regard it as the end,” says Yoo. “However, it could be seen as a desperation to bring attention to fading love. It’s such a bitter thing to happen, where fluttering love turns into something that’s just common, like air.” Opened and closed by Taemin, who shifts its tone from questioning to resignation, the story’s depth comes via the back-to-back rap sections (Minho’s is rough and self-realising, Key’s rhythmic and retrospective), and Onew and Jonghyun, two of K-pop’s most distinctive voices, suffuse it with compelling, powerful emotion. “Tell Me What To Do” was SHINee’s last single with five members. The raw, unhampered ache in Jonghyun’s voice makes it a hard listen in 2018, but its dark flame is a poignant reminder that for all the slick moves, unnatural hair colours, and fantastical MVs, SHINee’s greatest strength is music that profoundly resonates with listeners. “GOOD EVENING”, MAY 28, 2018 In late April, the question hanging over whether SHINee would continue as a group was answered as they emerged united for their 10th anniversary with a trilogy of episodic EPs called The Story of Light. “Good Evening”, the first of three lead singles, had its house-driven lead track “already done but (with) no melody,” says US singer/songwriter Bryan Jackson. “And that’s where I came in.” Jackson used elements from 90s R&B group 112’s “Cupid” in the track and worked alongside writers/producers The Fliptones to complete it. “I think the song’s a perfect fit given the heartbreak they went through. It’s about not just loving yourself, but loving others and being a light for those in the dark.” Replacing the synchronisation they’re renowned for, Japanese choreographer Koharu Sugawara portrayed SHINee’s deep emotional bond through loose moves, which she says allowed them to “present their own unique interpretation” of her initial instructions. Their eyes avoid the cameras, and the group dance facing one another more than the audience, stemming from a desire to create a “dance that expresses a sense of love”, where “the way the members conversed with one another showed what love is”. “I wanted SHINee dancing towards ‘SHINee’, I wanted it to be a ‘conversation’,” says Koharu. The music video alludes to Jonghyun’s absence (the third single would be dedicated to him), but “Good Evening”, while delicate, is not encumbered by the grief that precedes it. Rather, SHINee make it nimble and airy, an elegant display of strength and the tying together of old sounds and new. But ultimately it’s so much more – a celebration of life and the closing and opening of chapters, its existence an affirmation of all five members’ talent and ambition, their journey, and the hard work undertaken to rise, succeed, and forever be SHINee.

[waterstar2016]

“Two Shades of Green” Part 12

18+ Content

I’m up to 18 followers. Thank you for reading.

***Disclaimer....Credit goes out to the creative geniuses that made tmnt. Immogene my oc just likes to play in the world you created.***

On the Inside, Immogene was a bundle of nerves. She swore she saw the desire in Raphs eyes and it fuelled her own. What was she getting into? Raphael towered over her. Hell, if she wanted to play hide-n-seek, she would just have to stand behind him. He was so sexy, and just him being close to her made her quiver. The question was, did he want her too?

Raph was cautiously following Immogene to shower. He’d waited until she turned the corner to get up off the mat. He needed to find out if she felt the same. She’d bit her lip and looked at him with heat in her eyes, and there was a slight flush to her cheeks. It really looked like she wanted him to follow, but he was nervous.

He wanted to feel that hot and sexy body up against his. Would she let him touch her so intimately? When she was straddling his face all he could smell was a hint of blackberries and mint. The last time he smelled that was when he was lifting and she hugged him. A thought hit him like a freight train, and something in him clicked instinctively. No wonder it made him drool...she was aroused by him. Raphael grins. In the ring, it took everything in him not to tear off those tight little pants right then and there.

Raph clenches his fists and vows that he wouldn’t take her tonight, he needed her to know that he could give her pleasure first. Those books and videos had helped. When Raph was really interested in something he would dive into the subject. The female body was very complex, but he understood that one of the most important things was to pay attention to the females responses. He’d even gotten up the courage to talk to April. Most awkward conversation ever. He still couldn’t look at April in the eye.

He knew his size might scare her, but after talking to his father again, he was reassured that her being part Amazon would ease things for them. In doing more research he found out that his fingers were about the size of a decently proportioned human cock. He chuckled to himself “poor humans.” But no, as much as he wanted to...he wouldn’t take her that way tonight, but he would make her his. If she would have him.

Immogene had walked into the bathroom heart pounding. She’d left the door unlocked. She walked into the large space and turned the lights on low. Immogene glances in the mirror and saw that she was flushed. As she starts undressing, she closely examines her body. She still has that soft layer on her. Sighing, she takes down her hair and shakes it out. The waves and occasional ringlet fall to the middle of her back. Glancing at the door she closes her eyes and calms her breathing. She walks in the large shower stall and turns on the taps. The warm water cascades over her body and she tried to think of something else while she lathers up.

Raph is standing outside the door listening to her get ready for the shower, he hears the swish as her clothes fall to the floor and the water start. He’s never been so nervous in his life. Time to test the waters. He shakes is himself of his fear, just like he had to when jumping out of that god damned plane. He knows she always locks the door. This time it wasn’t. Raph opens the door.

She was just rinsing the foam off of her body and she heard the door open. Then a click as it was being locked. She froze, and her heart starts racing. She reaches up to snag a towel she had left on the top the stall wall to try and cover her body. She looks down and smirks. She really did to get some bigger towels. Immogene stands there looking at the water swirl down the drain, trembling with her heart in her throat.

Raph can just make out her shape though the gray and green tinted ice cubed shape blocks of glass. He starts to move towards the entrance to the shower.

All she hears is that damned deep voice, and it’s chuckling. With her eyes still cast down she sees a set of two toed green feet enter the stall...and she swallows. She hears him say “Princess, ur gonna need more than one of those towels to cover what you got.” She slowly raises her eyes. There was Raph, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed. She meets his gaze and she sees that his eyes are slowly travelling over her barely covered curves.

Immogene manages to get out an “Uh hi, Raph.” He starts walking slowly and confidently towards her, his muscles flexing, and her knees grow week.

Raph walks up to her and puts his arms on either side of her shoulders and leans down. Immogene is utterly surrounded. Suddenly, she lets out a giggle and he looks at her. “Ok princess why ya giggling? Not that I don’t find it endearing and all.” She looks up at him and sighs out “O Raph, all my life I’ve been called the big girl. I’ve always felt awkward. Right now, with you, I feel positively little...and I really like it.” Raph’s gaze softens. “That’s right princess, you ain’t bigger than me.”

Raph lowers his face and Immogene realizes he is going to kiss her. His lips touch hers. He groans at his first taste and she was surprised at how soft his lips were. The kiss deepens, their mouths becoming more entwined. Raph takes one of his large hands and wraps it around the back of her neck, lightly grabbing a handful of her hair and pulling her into him. She gasps. She’s never been kissed like this before. She feels his dominance over her and a thrill rolls through her spine. Raph pulls away slightly at her tremble. “I swear Gen you are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. I know I can be gruff, but you make me want to be soft”...he quirks his head and smirks...”Well, not all soft”.

Immogene laughs, eyes like lighting up with delight and rests her head and fingers against is plastron, lightly tracing her fingernails over the whorls and shapes. To Raph, the sensation of what she was doing makes him chur. Immogene hears it and thinks it’s the most erotic sound she’s ever heard.

Raph coughs a little over his chur, and says “I seem to have interrupted your shower. I think you were about to wash your hair? She nods, not knowing what to say. “Well, turn around and drop that towel so I can wash it for you.” She inhales sharply and obeys his instructions. She turns and stares at the patterns in the tile while she takes the towel from around her, and tosses it away. For a full minute, Raph just stares at the lush curves he is now faced with. He can see more tattoos covering her body. He feels himself grow harder. He’s left his shorts on to give him a barrier in hopes of helping himself keep control. He takes a couple of deep breaths and reaches for the shampoo.

She’s waiting for him to touch her. She thinks ‘What’s taking so long did he change his mind?’ “Raph?“ she hesitantly calls out. Raph smiles and starts rubbing the slippery shampoo in her hair, trying not to look at her ass. His large hands expertly rubbing the suds through her long tresses. “Patience princess, having you naked in front of me is hard on my self-control, you’re sexy as fuck.” Immogene shivers again at the timber of his voice. Raph continues “I will take you, but not tonight. Tonight is about you. I’m gonna make you scream my name princess.”

Immogen’s knees almost buckle at his words, and she can feel her arousal start to drip down her thighs. Raph feels Gen start to relax as he washes her hair. He moves closer to her and pushes his body against her back, he hears a moan and it almost makes him lose his control. He thinks ‘Come on Raph you’ve got this, focus on her.’ Raph diligently washes out all the soap and applies her conditioner. He loves the texture and length of her hair. After rinsing it out he moves the long stands over the left side of her shoulder and starts nuzzling, kissing and ever so lightly nipping her neck. Immogene starts rubbing her ass against his front desperate for friction.

She stops. She’s felt him through his shorts. She gasps out...”Raph? What the fuck is that?” She glances backwards at him with her eyes wide. She remembers playing baseball last summer, and now that’s what she feels pushing up against her ass. A goddamned baseball bat. Raph chuckles low...”Well, you know how huge I am? Well...it’s everywhere princess.” “Raph, how in the fuck is that even going to fit?” “O princess it will fit...I just gotta make sure we take it slow and you’re ready for it.”

Raphs expression suddenly goes soft and he wraps his arms around her waist and talks to her with his lips on the curve of her neck...”I’d never hurt you princess...tonight I’m gonna show you just what I feel about you...I may not be the best with words all the time but I can sure show you.” She turns her head to look up at him and reaches up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. He licks her ear and plays with her daith piercing, gently flicking the heart shaped ring.

Raph’s hand starts trailing down her body tracing some her tattoos. She hears him groan and all of a sudden he grabs both of her wrists and pushes them up and over her head. Clasping them together with one hand he pins them to the wall. “Holy fuck!” She yells. He answers by chuckling deeply. He’s taking control, but at the same time she can tell he’s being so careful with her. She feels him pause his fingers journey at the scar where the star had hit her flesh, and he growls and threatens “Anyone who ever fucking hurts you again will die.” A small whimper escapes her throat as he reaches her ass. “O princess your not gonna be able to hold those sounds in very long”...Raph continues trailing his finger down her ass crack.

Immogene closes her legs fearing rejection when he feels how wet she is. He growls low and says “What ya doin princess? Don’t you dare close those on me.” She quietly says “Um Raph? I know we’re in a shower and all, but you’re driving me fucking crazy and I’m super wet and worried that you...” Raph groans interrupting. ”That is so fucking hot, your wet pussy is all I’ve been thinking about for a long time. Raph takes his hand and touches the back of her thighs, moves it in between them and firmly moves her legs further apart.

He releases her wrists and drops to his knees behind her and reaches up again with his thick finger. Ever so gently he caresses her slit, sliding it up and down. She is so wet, and he rolls his head grasping for more control as he realizes she’s shaved. Her juices are coating his finger. She can hear him growling and telling her how beautiful she is. Her legs start to shake. Raph is drawn to that tantalizing scent. He has to taste her.

She feels his breath on her ass. He’s inhaling her in and she can feel him tremble. She hears him mumble something about blackberries and mint. He takes his hands and places them on her hips putting pressure on the hip bone making her stick her ass further out towards him. Immogene’s shoulder and arms are resting into the wall for support. He takes his face and slowly presses it into her. She can feel his tongue reach in and start licking. She screams his name and feels him chuckle while he continues feasting on her. His tongue is expertly dancing, sliding and flicking. He slides as much of it as he can into her, and she discovers just how long a mutant turtle tongue is. “Fucking hell Raphael!

He pulls away from her and stands up then spins her around and sees her fully naked for the first time. “Holy heaven and hell Gen, your fucking gorgeous, I love every inch of your body. Your so strong and your soft curves make me crazy.” She feels a flush at his very generous compliment. His head lowers and nuzzles her breasts licking each of her nipples and pulling on them gently with his teeth.

Immogene is on fire, the only thing that she is aware of is what Raph is doing to her body. He takes his thick finger and trails a line down her body following all the dips and curves. When he reaches her pussy he dips in at the top and slowly starts working her clit. Immogene starts moaning incoherently calling his name over and over. He ever so slowly takes that thick digit and starts rubbing her entrance. His other hand holding her waist supporting her while his mouth latches onto her nipple. She gasps arching towards him.

At her sound, he shoves his finger in...she screams his name and starts to sob with pleasure. “That’s it princess, let me hear you, I want to know your body.” Raph feels her walls clamp down on his finger and knows she wants release. He continues thrusting in and out, enjoying those sounds just a little more before he will give her what she wants. He slowly pulls his finger out and chuckles at her sound of disappointment. “Don’t worry princess I’m gonna make you come so hard your gonna forget yer own name.” He reaches behind her while lowering his head to hers, kissing her passionately. Immogene can taste herself on his lips. Raph suddenly grabs her ass and hoists her up onto his shoulders. Her back is against the smooth tiled wall, legs hanging over his shell. She takes her arms and rests them on the stall walls, gripping the edges with her hands. She looks down and sees him gazing up at her between her legs. He grins and slowly inches closer to her liquid centre. “Raph please! I can’t take much more!” As she yells he squeezes her ass hard and pulls her pussy to his face. He nuzzles in, latches onto her clit, and starts gently sucking, while slightly moving his head back and fourth. He alternates between licking and sucking until he feels her start to shake. He knows shes close. Immogene hears him mumble between her legs for her to come for him.

She can feel the vibrations of his words on her clit. She closes her eyes and arches towards him, he picks up the pace, settling on a swift but steady circular motion of his tongue. “O Raph, don’t stop!” Raph feels her legs start to tremble and he starts circling even faster. She’s tossing her head from side to side. Her juices pouring out onto his chin. Suddenly she screams, her back arching and calls his name. “Raphael!” Her orgasm rips through her like a tidal wave. Raph slows his licks bringing her down. He lovingly caresses her folds with his tongue until she stops shaking. He eases her legs from off his shoulders and shell and lowers both of them to the floor. He pulls her down into his lap. He rests his head on her shoulder pressing kisses into it. She can feel him smiling as she tries to control the beating of her heart. He settles her legs around him and his arms circle around her. She wraps her arms around his neck.

“Raph what the fuck?” Immogene says as she pulls away from the embrace far enough to be able to look at his face. He’s got the biggest grin on his face that she’s ever seen. He looks at her with a mischievous look in his eyes.

Slowly he takes one of his hands away from her back and proceeds to suck off her juices that are still clinging to it. She stares at him blinking and he seductively chuckles. Raph looks at her and says “Now princess, that’s what I meant when I said when I first saw you.” She feels like an empty husk but she laughs and buries her head in his shoulder whispering “Raph where in the fuck did you learn how to do that?” He responds, “Well Donnie ain’t the only one who likes to read you know? Well, I mean when I’m really interested in the subject I don’t mind it” She throws her head back and laughs. Raph then adds “By the way princess you’re delicious.” She groans against the involuntary tremor that his voice causes in her body.

She’s straddling him and she feels his member strain up towards her through his shorts. “Raph” she breathlessly asks “what about you?” Raph pulls back slightly looking at her and calmly responds “Princess as much as I’d love to fuck you right now, you’re not ready for me yet.” Now it’s her turn to look seductively at him and he gasps at the look he sees in her deep green eyes. “Raph, I understand that you want to be careful with me and that’s so sweet, but who said anything about fucking?”

Raph stares open mouthed wonder as she starts kissing her way down his plastron, her tongue slipping out to lick him as she moves downwards. She makes sure to look up at him when she reaches the top of his shorts. Raph grits his teeth struggling for control. She sees the massive bulge in his shorts and gulps. “Well, here goes nothing.” She starts running her tongue over the bulge through the fabric and she feels Raph tense. His hands lightly grab her head. “Princess, your gonna kill me.” Raph groans. Immogene loves the sound of that rumble.

She takes a deep breath and reaches for the zipper and starts to pull. The largest cock she has ever seen in springs in front of her, and eyes go wide. “Uh Raph, holy shit...” She glances up at him and he smiles almost sheepishly and shrugs. She slightly shakes her head and looks back down at the monster cock before her. Her earlier assessment of a baseball bat was correct. She wiggles back on her knees with her ass up in the air to get in a better position. Raph growls. She grins and grasps his large member in her hand. She couldn’t get it around him, and she could feel him throbbing. She could see the slightest drop of pre-cum at the tip. She leans down and licks. The taste was incredible! It reminded her of a really dark and salty caramel.

Raph threw his head back and groaned. She started working him while sucking on his tip. She couldn’t get much more than a few inches of his cock in her mouth. She drags her tongue down his shaft and starts licking his balls. Raph was moaning her name and thrusting his hips. She saw him reach up and grip the handrail...a few moments later she heard the sound like a can being crushed and she giggles while sliding her tongue from his balls to the head of his cock. She could feel that Raph was getting close. She started tonguing his balls in earnest while stroking his shaft adding a twisting motion with her hand. All of a sudden Raph tenses and lets out a roar. “Fuck Gen!” His load shoots across her back and hits the shower wall.

Raph was left with his head hanging and chest heaving. “Well, princess I guess it’s a good thing that we’re already in the shower.” Immogene laughs and points her head towards the handrail, and he sees that it’s crushed. Raph chuckles deeply...”Oops.” He reaches behind her to turn on the water. He stands and the bends down to pick her up and holds her tightly to his chest.

Immogene sighs contentedly as he proceeds to lovingly wash all his cum off her body. Setting her down they stand there together under the spray. Raphs hands are running up and down her back. After they dry off she puts on her housecoat. She moves in front of the mirror and starts brushing her hair smiling. He comes up behind her.

Immogene sees their reflection in the mirror, and it looks so right. Raphs massive form towers over and surrounds her, he looks at her in the mirror and meets her gaze. Two shades of green meet and lock.

His arms roam down her body to hold her around her stomach. “Princess that was amazing.” They leave the bathroom and Raph walks up beside her and grabs her hand. His huge digits twining with her smaller ones. The lair is dark. They walk to her bedroom. Upon reaching the door Raph picks her up, carries her in and sets her down on the bed. She notices he looks unsure.

Immogene rests her hand on his shoulder and smiles reassuringly at him “Raph? Will you stay with me tonight? There’s enough room, I think.” She sees Raph immediately relax. He chuckles “Yeah princess, from now on your gonna have a really hard time keeping me out of your bed.” She lays down with Raph tucked up behind her. Raph’s large arm wraps around her waist and he kisses her shoulder. She sighs contentedly. That night, sleep came to Immogene easy. She was safe in Raph’s arms.

To be continued...

@devilsnevercry1388

[dislocatedskeleton]

Portrait of Deana Lawson, Sabine Mirlesse, 2011

Sabine Mirlesse: How did you begin taking pictures?  

Deana Lawson: I’m from Rochester, New York—the home of Eastman Kodak, which is interesting– but actually I did not have any art background in high school. I went into my undergrad with the intention of being an International Business major. It wasn’t until the end of my sophomore year that I realized I wanted to be on the creative end of the spectrum. At the time I thought it would be fashion design. I applied to Parsons, but luckily I didn’t get in because if I had I might not be sitting and interviewing with you right now.  I knew that I wanted to go into the creative arts and I started taking art classes and fumbled miserably, did terrible on 3D assignments and painting, and then finally took my first photo class. Right away, I was just kind of blown away by some of the photographers that I was looking at, but I didn’t realize that I really could be a photographer until I was referred to African-American photographers like Carrie Mae Weems and Renée Cox. We had an assignment to write about an artist and I hadn’t seen any artists of color and I was like “Are there any black photographers at all??” And the teacher was like “yeah, there is this woman, I forget her name… but I think it’s like Lorna Simpson or something?” Well, I just spent that next whole evening so entranced by Lorna’s work. Just to have that model– to realize that not only did I like to make pictures but that I could actually do this, you know, was absolutely important to reaffirm myself as an artist.  

SM: So not having any role models that were black and female at first and until you were exposed to them you didn’t feel like you could be a photographer— Is there something about your work you make that consciously relates directly to your being female and black?  

DL: Definitely this belief that knowledge is gained through the body, through experiences, through giving birth for example. Whereas to me, a Western concept of intelligence is built off of what school you go to or what institution you’re connected to. I definitely reaffirm knowledge through community, through family, through being a mother, through being a wife, and through my friendships. I think that comes through in the people that I choose to photograph. I think my representation of sexuality is very different than some male photographers’. I try to contextualize sexuality with ideas of the psychic. I connect sexuality with… love and not divested from that which at times becomes pornographic.  

SM: And as for being African-American?  

DL: One thing I will say is that I remember while I was in grad school there were other artists dealing with similar issues such as family, the body, psychology. One of them was a white male photographer—and we were actually making quite similar work. Somehow it seemed in critiques that the blackness of the subject was brought up, while whiteness was invisible. You know if I were dealing with issues of family, it was always taken as being about issues of ‘black family’ as if it were it’s own category. Actually, I think that there is a part of me that feels like “what is Deana” versus “how am I representing Deana as coming from a collective African-American community?” “What part is me and what part is an attempt to represent this shared aesthetic and shared experience?” Coming from a working class background in Rochester, New York and being black—I think class and my blackness definitely visually affect what I’m doing.

SM: I wanted to ask you about this term used to describe your work for the PS1 Greater New York show you did—hoping you could elaborate on it—phrase “sacred sexuality”?  

DL: I remember watching “The Divine Horseman”, which is a film made by Maya Deren where she went to Haiti and filmed certain rituals and practices. The narrator mentioned a phrase “the eternal erotic” which I just found fascinating—the phrase has stuck with me throughout the years…The idea of the “eternal erotic” is something that I believe surpasses modern notions of attractiveness and sexiness.  What I imagine to be eternally erotic involves a spiritual aura that resides in the physical body, and informs how one moves, thinks, and loves in the world.  I use this idea as psychic material when thinking about photographs, and working with subjects.

SM: You’re quoted in an article in TimeOut magazine as having commented that “[your] own being is found in union with those [you] take pictures of”—which I found to be a very poetic statement, unusually mystical sounding given our time, and very beautiful as an idea. It’s not exactly trendy to talk like that nowadays—

DL: That is the damn truth!

SM: –Right. So could you maybe elaborate on it?  

DL: Whoever I photograph I start from the premise that they are a magnificent human being and that my experience as a human being interacting with theirs makes all that that much more complex. We live in a culture right now where we are really isolated… isolated in our apartments, or in our suburban homes, etc. When I’m photographing a subject I guess I really am trying to figure out who I am as a human being too. You know, in a sense, I’m actually trying to learn something through them sharing their time and image with me. Oftentimes I might end up being friends with someone I’ve photographed for a while. There is one woman who lives in the neighborhood, I actually just stopped by yesterday… it’s this ongoing friendship/relationship to the point where I call her my fairy godmother. She is about seventy-five years old. She has definitely influenced me in many ways beyond someone with just an amazing photograph. Visually my work definitely comes across as working class like I said– not only are there black people in it, but it is about working class black people. It’s definitely worthy to affirm that body. That body is worthy to be considered a piece of art. The same thing is true when it comes to even just talking about my work, even within ‘black art speak’, you don’t know what’s being said. Not only do we have a responsibility to be true to this visually as artists but also in the language through which we speak. I think it’s important to affirm my vernacular from Rochester. That is part of the work as well.  

SM: How do the photographs you take relate to the family snapshot? What distinguishes between the two for you?  

DL: Oftentimes I tell people that the family album was my first inspiration, and that I even still love to look at family albums, even others peoples’. I love that gap or space between that moment and what is the reality, what is left out and what is kept. Looking at old photos of my aunts and my mom, celebrations, ceremonies, cookouts, effected my intention or my purpose in terms of wanting the image to feel really familial even if the subjects aren’t related. I might also stage certain photographs when the subjects aren’t related when they are meant to come off as boyfriend and girlfriend or mother and daughter. I want that feeling. In terms of lighting, I love warm tungsten lighting. However, with my photographs I’m using a 6x7 and a 4x5 camera so they become kind of like the heightened version of the family snapshot.  

SM: What do people in your photographs think of the work?  

DL: I think sometimes they’re shocked in the sense of not necessarily recognizing themselves! Barbara for example is really excited about the show. I think they feel excited, and honored, I guess, to be validated in that way by any sort of gallery situation.  

SM: Let’s talk about access. Do you find that you are permitted into your subjects’ homes and intimate spaces more easily because you have the same color skin or because you’re female? Do you feel like the people you photograph trust you more to represent them? I ask because you talk about the desire to represent a certain community and it’s an ambitious task to set out on, full of layers—do you think that you are granted access because you are part of that community whereas a white male might have more difficulty?  

DL: I think it’s a yes and no answer. Subjects have told me straight out that they wouldn’t have decided to pose for me if I wasn’t a woman. And they’ve said like “there’s something about you where I feel comfortable to do certain things” –maybe because they are picking up on my energy, and they feel secure with me photographing them. However, I do think there is a history of certain people having a legacy of access whether it be the access to go to art school, to buy a camera, to travel around and make their pictures—I think that isn’t unusual. What I think is more unusual is people who haven’t had that sort of access to the art world, or to the academic world of photography, to be able to self-represent.  

SM: Versus the history of a colonial bird’s eye view, that your work instead may be absent of ‘othering’?

DL: I think people assume that because I’m black.

SM: But you know, at least in my own personal experience in seeing your images for the first time, I didn’t know who took them. I couldn’t necessarily guess either. And when I did find out more about you it didn’t mean I was suddenly relieved. In my opinion it comes from the feeling of the images themselves…

DL: That’s an amazing compliment. There is a certain energy going into the work I’m making that I can’t talk about from a logical or rational viewpoint. There is a love for the people that I’m photographing, even when I’m making a profane picture, that love is the underlying gaze.  

SM: Can you talk about the ‘Assemblage’ piece you did and about how you change the context of those pictures?  

DL: I work with a lot of appropriated images anyway. I often gather images from the subject—I have a photo from Barbara for example that came straight off her mantel that is really freakin’ amazing and I printed it the same size as every other picture and it blended in right away. In some ways you couldn’t distinguish between which images I took and which were appropriated. ‘Assemblage’ wasn’t initially meant to be a piece, it was just an image-board. When I was at LMCC (Lower Manhattan Community Council) and we had to switch our studios. I got this weird space and I was trying to figure out how to put this work on the wall in this different environment and that’s when it became a corner piece, which I think activated it in a certain way. I definitely think there is a certain energy to that piece that also is imbedded with the other straightforward work, represent colonialism, popular culture, celebrity, but also being curated through my personal experience and my eye, you know I listen to Biggie Smalls and then you’ll see a picture of my husband’s friend from the American University, or you’ll see, like, you know, images of war in Uganda. It’s all intermixed. I’m still a part of this continuum right now– this cultural currency, or the way images are circulated. I’m a part of it in the art world, I’m a part of it by looking. I guess the ‘Assemblage’ became a reflection of that.  But I also wanted it to be like this organism too that could grow. With each new installation it has to be improvised. Freestyle. I need to be responding in the moment to what is juxtaposed against what and what energy happens when you take this picture versus another—in that way it’s kind of mimicking the tradition of improvisation in black music. I like working in that space. I think I always have that improvisational mode. I know I’m going to be showing up at someone’s house, I might not know what that house is going to look like, I might never have been in that house before, but I’ll have all my equipment. Or I’ll know I’ll be photographing that subject but I’m not quite sure what she’s gonna wear– so all that stuff is decided on in the moment.  

SM: Instead of stating that you yourself work in an improvisational way, point-blank, you choose to connect it to something cultural – like a legacy of improvisation in black music…

DL: Oh, definitely. For sure.  

SM: Okay, so this might sound too direct or as though I’m being entirely ‘politically incorrect’ or naïve, but I can’t help but be interested and find it relevant and just want to know how you feel – are you improvisational because you simply are? Or are you improvisational in your work practice because you feel it’s part of your identity as an African-American artist? Drawing attention to that point is important I think because it get’s tricky if you were to say for example “oh she’s improvisational because she’s part of a particular community or ethnic background”—it can be problematic…  

DL:  I hear what you’re saying. I think it’s problematic if you say it, but, for me, I find being improvisational to be this amazing characteristic of black culture, so when I associate myself with that, I’m actually feeling like wow, I’m connected in a way, being a part of that, but doing it in my own way, through my photography, whereas someone else might be doing it through freestyle hip-hop, or through dancing. Someone might have a problem with me saying this. Someone black might have a problem with me saying that.

SM: You’ve done a few artist-in-residence programs, most recently at Light Work in Syracuse, could you tell me what your take on these kinds of programs is?  

DL: I think these residencies are needed. Artists can get caught up in life, whether it be work or anything that takes them away from making their own art. I really need sustained time. I do a lot of things, you know. I’m a mother. I have to get my son ready for school in the morning. I gotta cook. I do need that time to just dedicate to my work and that’s important. I also think– you know you were asking before about if I felt the presence of my female-ness in my work and so forth– I never really had the luxury of being in a studio environment and when I think of traditional philosophers, you know, sitting with a pipe thinking for a long time about these theories and sh*t… I mean, girl, I don’t have that kind of quietude! I don’t think a lot of women do. Even that mess though can be used for material for your work. Which is what I do. For example the image ‘Baby sleep’ –that is directly drawn from real sh*t! You know what I’m saying? When I’m printing, I definitely like to be in my own zone. But when I’m shooting, like right now I’m actually at a residency in Woodstock, I’ve been going back and forth because of the show, but when my family dropped me off up there they were like “What are you going to do up here?” and I was like “I don’t know!” Like, “this is the weirdest time-warp place” but as soon as I got off the bus back to NY I thanked God. I’m constantly stimulated in NY, but I do think for me at this point I definitely need to leave to shoot. Even though there are so many people here and there is definitely access, there’s also definitely something of New York that makes me feel scatterbrained and not focused at all. When I went down South to visit a friend of mine about two years ago to do this shoot I road-tripped for three weeks and I was just shooting, shooting, shooting! That was the last big amount of work that I’ve made and I was on this vibe, conjuring images. Here in the city it’s very distracting. I think you do have to be part of the game here though, in terms of the commercial aspect of it.  

[jamesginortonblog]

Belleville reviews

I will add other reviews as they appear, so check this post for updates.

Stage Review **** - Belleville is 100 minutes of rising suspense and edge-of-your-seat tension that has a couple of gross-out moments, a few seconds of nudity that will make women of a certain age gasp in admiration, and an awful lot going for it. The big draw is [...] James Norton, who can add his growing maturity as a stage actor to a CV that is already bulging with scorching turns on TV and film. He’s terrific. He delivers a complex, multi-layered performance that excites, shocks and disturbs. [...] .Imogen Poots is emerging as a hugely watchable stage actress. She has a moment here, with a large chef’s knife and a big toenail, that will remain with me, and you, forever. The audience was aghast.

Financial Times **** - Herzog allows the marital relationship of late-twenties Americans Abby and Zack to present itself gradually, Michael Longhurst directs with a discreet touch . [...]  Imogen Poots, making a rare stage appearance, flakes convincingly as Abby; James Norton as Zack holds most of it in until his psychological dam bursts. Malachi Kirby and Faith Alabi have a brief but surprisingly important francophone coda. It makes for powerful viewing, but as I say, perhaps not the thing if what you’re after is a slice of seasonal good cheer.

Plays To See ***** - Although the writing covers various themes and angles, Michael Longhurst’s direction helps to move time along in a sophisticated and intelligent manner, meaning that the chronology of the narrative is credible and the action feels fluid and natural.Malachi Kirby and Faith Alabi are excellent in their roles as a young French couple that contrast and conflict with Abby and Zach, and their characters have many dimensions that are explored and demonstrated throughout the play. Dominating the majority of the action, Imogen Poots and James Norton visibly pour everything into the execution of their roles, and it’s due to their impeccably emotive and intense performances that the production delivers the impact that it does.

The Up Coming ***** - Those who are not fans of intense melodramatic human stories don’t need to worry. Belleville is mainly characterised by an amazing cast with absolutely flawless performances by Imogen Poots and James Norton. They are not only convincing as a couple struggling to save their relationship but they also play wonderfully as individuals. As the story progresses it’s easy to realise how destructive these two human beings are, and how much pain they inflict on each other as a result. The loss of a mother, the birth of a child and some past regrets make up the main points of conflict, giving both actors the chance to elevate Amy Herzog’s script to a mesmerising level. We can’t forget about the two supporting roles in this drama. Malachi Kirby and Faith Alabi complete the cast as the apartment’s landlord and his wife, living in the same building and clearly affected by the chaotic couple and their misadventures. Their dialogue is often in French and there is a realistic approach to the cultural differences in all the scenes the four performers have together. The set is impeccable and very intimate. The rooms are displayed in such a way that the audience is placed at the same level as the stage, so we all feel as if we are inside this apartment with these characters. The colours and the design of the different rooms are very smart, setting the tone for the climax perfectly, as the action usually occurs between the kitchen, the bathroom and the living room. 

The Times **** - Michael Longhurst directs a psychological thriller dressed up as a sitcom, with the perfect Paris flat set by Tom Scutt. Doors slam, accidents happen, there are farcical vomiting scenes. The timeline seems off and yet the tension keeps ratcheting up until, despite myself, I was riveted. Why did he do that? When will he tell her the big secret? And why does he keep confiscating her phone? Imogen Poots is brilliant as Abby, mercurial and self-obsessed but not, surely, bonkers. James Norton is equally good as the erratic Zack. It’s hard to know which side we are on, especially when it becomes clear that the Parisian kitchenette has a very sharp knife. Baguette anyone? It’ll keep you guessing, that’s for sure.

Telegraph **** Riveting and troubling insights on the frailty of human relationships - What makes the evening so disquieting – and accomplished – is that we’re witness to the accumulative power of subtle nudges – each eggs the other on, wittingly and unwittingly, towards a primeval forest of fear, hurt and rage.  Norton just keeps making smart career moves: Zack combines some of the vicar-next-door niceness viewers loved in Granchester with the psychotic intensity at which the actor excelled as reviled rapist Tommy Lee Royce in Happy Valley. This former medical student looks so dependable, in white T-shirt and jeans, flashing a sexy, toothsome smile as he nibbles healingly at Abby’s stubbed toe – the duo even make out on the sofa at one moment of rekindled ardour. He registers relatable hurt when Abby displays a viciousness straight out of the Edward Albee book of marital put-downs, yet there’s also an inscrutable gleam in his eye that suggests he shouldn’t be allowed to toy too much with that kitchen knife.

What’s On Stage  **** - Norton is perfectly cast as Zack: the picture of outward masculinity and yet strangely wet behind the ears as well. Poots too seems entirely together until she’s hobbling around drunk and taking a knife to a blackened toenail. At its simplest, this is a portrait of care and the pressures that come with it. Their relationship is full of real, lived details – the tenderness and shorthand that betrays their history - under Michael Longhurst’s direction, but, with Natasha Chivers’ clever lighting and Ben and Max Ringham’s unnerving urban soundscape, he subverts the tricks and tropes of horror with real skill

The Art Desk **** - prickly and unnerving Imogen Poots and James Norton in terrific form as American expats living on the edge - Committing to the stage at a time when they could be forgiven for thinking only of the screen, James Norton and Imogen Poots are in accent-perfect, emotionally precise form as two 28-year-old married Americans inhabiting gently rundown rented digs in Belleville […] Herzog has great fun larding her text with the necessary clues, and Poots and Norton bring to this emotional cat-and-mouse game a ready physicality and ease that draw the audience in,

RadioTimes **** James Norton is brilliant as a man on the edge - Norton is utterly compelling as a man on the edge. As his lies unravel, Zack grows desperate and reveals a darker side.Poots is equally brilliant as Abby, who’s so caught up in her own unhappiness, she fails to notice her husband’s strange behaviour. Poots doesn’t waste a sentence as she flounces around the stage – angry, funny and terribly cruel by turns. Between the blazing rows are fleeting moments of tenderness and affection. All the action takes place within 24 hours in their small, messy flat and director Michael Longhurst ratchets up the tension. Pulsing, unsettling music between the scenes adds to the sense of foreboding. At times it’s hard to watch, but impossible to tear your eyes away.This is the UK debut of Belleville and the Donmar’s intimate auditorium is perfect for this claustrophobic play. At only an hour and 40 minutes with no interval, it’s short but packs a punch. There were audible gasps and whimpers from the audience when their drunken night out spirals out of control.It could be taken as an indictment of indulged, self-obsessed millennials, but it’s also a heart-wrenching, stomach-churning portrayal of a marriage in crisis.

The Independent *** -   James Norton and Imogen Poots excel as fraught Americans in Paris in Amy Herzog's sharp-eared study of a young marriage that is starting to unravel. [...] For my taste, the final scenes are overly melodramatic – simplifying what had been complex – and I am not sure that the entire set-up bears much scrutiny when you ponder it afterwards.  But Herzog has an excruciatingly good ear for marital strains; the acting is terrific; and Michael Longhurst paces the show absorbingly.

The Guardian *** Amy Herzog’s tale of uprooted Americans sinks into melodrama but is elevated by a central pair who reveal all the nuances of a marriage in crisis - Fortunately the acting, in Michael Longhurst’s production, is very good. Poots made an impressive West End debut earlier this year in Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? and once again she plays a wife slowly waking up to the truth about her husband. Physically, Poots reminds me of a young Goldie Hawn; emotionally, she has the capacity to show the accident-prone self-absorption of a certain kind of American while at same time enlisting your sympathy for her isolation. Norton, who seems to be the epitome of good-looking normality, also gradually reveals Zack’s insecurity as if peeling the layers off an onion. They make a dynamic couple and there is staunch support from Malachi Kirby as their furtively pot-smoking landlord and Faith Alabi as his watchfully censorious wife.

Evening Standard *** -  In this UK premiere of Amy Herzog’s unsettling drama there’s a fizzy chemistry between the leads. James Norton and Imogen Poots play a recently wed American couple, relishing bohemian life in Paris. They’re attractive but also maddening — Norton and Poots make their marriage seem like a grenade with the pin removed. […]  Director Michael Longhurst achieves an atmosphere of barely suppressed violence. Poots is excellent at probing Abby’s unhappy self-obsession, and Norton skilfully suggests two very different sides of Zack — a vanity that can be menacingly icy, and a fumbling, fidgety desperation.

London Theatre *** -  It’s an anxious, edgy but perplexing play about characters dancing around the abyss of their lives and failing relationship together.It is, however, at least partially redeemed by the quietly stunning performances of James Norton and Imogen Poots, two fast-rising stage and screen actors, whose naturalistic and complicated unease with each other is palpable. Also extraordinary is Malachi Kirby, named a BAFTA Breakthrough Brit in 2016, as the landlord and Faith Alabi as his partner.

TimeOut *** - Herzog and director Michael Longhurst give us a brilliantly acted but uneven psychological thriller. Norton offers a masterclass in simultaneous menace and vulnerability, a sort of millennial Willy Loman, whilst Poots is fantastic as a fraying woman gradually, agonisingly forcing herself to confront the fact that something has gone terribly awry with her life. At its best ‘Belleville’ comes close to being a perfect depiction of corrosive male narcissism. But it always backs away.

British Theatre Guide - Although it is set just before Christmas with a birth in the offing, Belleville is far, far away from the standard fare at this time of year, more likely to send audience members home in a state of shock than with a big post-panto smile on their faces.Under Michael Longhurst’s direction on a hyper-realistic set designed by Tom Scutt, Imogen Poots once again shines as moody Abby, while James Norton almost hits the same heights, although is very slightly less convincing in conveying the duality of his character’s personality.

Theatre Cat  **** - As you can tell, it’s all a bit Albee, and there is something bracingly merciless – in this age of compulsory compassion – about Herzog’s depiction of someone both mentally ill and shrilly entitled who systematically wrecks a life, marriage and indeed a flat. But it is also horribly entertaining. James Norton’s as clean-cut Zack takes a remarkable journey from calm doctorliness to utter dissolution, and Poots is fearless, pitch-perfect and generally mesmerising.   Malachi Kirby and Faith Alabi are perfect as the neighbours: younger, saner, their hardworking immigrant decency a shaming foil to the lost-soul , self-indulgent Westerneners.

The Stage ** Superbly acted and impeccable staged production of a lurid and bloodless domestic psychological thriller - The worm in the bud of romance wriggles here, too: how well do we ever know each other, however much we believe we’re in love?Yet none of it is very original, and having reached a hysterical pitch, the action is rather abruptly cut off and abandoned. Norton and Poots execute the steps of the familiar dance of deception, double bluff and crack-up with skill and conviction – both are queasily absorbing. But they’re more than this dull-edged psychodrama deserves.

Cultural Capital - What makes this a worthwhile are the two central performances from James Norton and Imogen Poots who bring credibility to their characters and help to disguise some of the weakness of the material. Actors, of course, do far more than read the words their given, with this show being a case in point, and in large part, the audience investment created at the start of the show, comes from their ability to breathe life into Abby and Zack, encouraging your interest in what happens to them. 

[monicamichellefairytales]

Sex Positive for Chronic Illness and Disability RecommendationsAASECTPsychology TodayGaps in the Research: Identity and Sexual Communication and Gender Minorities with Physical DisabilitiesPeople with disabilities (PWD) have become the largest minority group in the world, with the number of PWD increasing to approximately 10% of the world’s population.16 million people in the US experience physical disabilities. 40 Percent of the US population live with chronic illness.  The current research is focused on sexual self-esteem and social attitudes on sexuality, not how People with Disabilities (PWD) negotiate sex/engage sexually.There is a need for research about the sexual expressions and partner communication among people with disabilities.More research is needed on more of a social framework, instead of from a solely medical model. Like disability, gender is a social construct. Still today, society relies on the gender binary system, the concept that everyone must be one of two genders: man or woman.In the past 15-20 years, research has begun to expand regarding the self-described sexual identities of those who have disabilities .Some of these identities included gender identity/presentation, sexual orientation, and relationship types, as well as the impact having one or more disabilities has on sexual satisfaction and more. More recently, the body of literature exploring experiences and issues around the sexual expression PWD has developed, both nationally and internationally, covering a wide range of topics within the field of study. Misconceptions of Sex and DisabilityPeople with disabilities are not desirable.The sexual well-being and the sexual desire of physically disabled people often is unrecognized in the public domain and research. The media reinforce normative conceptions of sexual activity and sexual behavior, and determine what is “sexy”, sexually disenfranchising disabled people. There are people in the world who treat disabled people like desexualized children. I found this to be true for people who are visibly disabled, and it’s called infantilization. Disabled people are often thought of as being incapable of having their own wants and desires and because of that there is also a misconception that people in interabled relationships (where one partner is abled and another is not) are taking advantage them. Why is pleasure so important?Pleasure is an affirmation of life. Pleasure is defined as an addition to life or a form of luxury rather than a centrally motivating and defining feature of social action. Sexual pleasure is powerful in making one feel alive. It can enhance an intimate relationship. It can add a sense of connectedness to the world or to each other. It can heal a sense of emotional isolation so many of us feel even though we are socially integrated. It helps layout the foundation of body acceptance and it is anecdote to pain, both emotional and physical. When we do not include a discourse of pleasure, gender minorities with disabilities may perpetuate their asexual and victimization status. Negative sexual messages about gender minorities with disabilities fuel negative attitudes and misguided beliefs about sexual potential can take their toll on sexual self-esteem. Low sexual self-esteem combined with the likes of physical limitations, diminished sensation, lack of escalating arousal, difficulty with ejaculation, or difficulty with orgasm may make sex and sexual relationships seem pointless, may reaffirm unexpressed beliefs of asexuality.  Identities and Coming Out LGBTQ with DisabilitiesThe term “coming out” is one that seems most commonly used among members of the LGBTQ community when referring to the process of sharing identity/identities with others or “publicly communicating one’s sexual orientation and sexual identity. LGBTQ individuals frequently face stigma and being pathologized when they disclose their gender identity or sexual orientation to others, the process of choosing to whom, when, and how to “come out” regarding one’s LGBTQ identity can be difficult and stressful. Coming out around sexual orientation can be very complex, multi-layered process that includes a stage regarding decisions around sexual expression, and having one’s needs around sexuality met. Given the similarities of individuals who have to “come out” or disclose a less than obvious or “invisible” disability to a partner, it is possible that LGBTQ identified people with disabilities may be required to perform their coming out process more than once with the same partner, around different identities. by Monica Michelle

[aurelliocheek]

Welcome to the Jungle: Making of Shadow of the Tomb Raider

In 2013, a videogame icon made its return to the screen. In 2018, at the peak of her career, she took players on an adventure that climaxed in the emotional grand finale of a celebrated trilogy.

Lara Croft is undoubtedly one of the most renowned characters in videogames history, who first took players on her adventures in 1996. A fearless female Indiana Jones, who dual-wielded her way through dangerous caves and ancient tombs and pistol-wipped her enemies into oblivion. Many sequels and movies accompanied the British archaeologist on her way to popcultural immortality, and it was in 2013, when Crystal Dynamics and Eidos Montréal brought her back in a more than well-received reboot. In September 2018, Eidos released the third and final sequel of a trilogy that portrayed a young and unexperienced Lara Croft from her early beginnings to the peak of her career.

On the following pages, Eidos Montréal‘s Narrative Designer Jason Dozois, Animation Director Wilson Mui and Audio Director Rob Bridgett take us on a trip to learn more about how the studio approached the trilogy‘s grand finale– enjoy!

The Narrative Heart of Tomb Raider Jason Dozois worked in the games industry for over 17 years, mainly as a Narrative and Level Designer for various projects. In 2010, Dozois joined Eidos Montréal, his previous projects including »Deus Ex: Mankind Divided« and »Tomb Raider«.

»I was the Narrative Director on Shadow of the Tomb Raider where I managed a team of writers and worked closely with all other departments to make sure the story and flow of the game was consistent and what we wanted it to be. That means a lot of discussions with all the different trades – from concept artists, to level artists, lighting, animation, and audio. Narrative has always been my main interest. In the past with smaller teams, the level designers worked on the integration and assembly of the game, so they most directly influenced the story through the integration of gameplay. As teams got bigger over time, more specialization was needed, and when the opportunity appeared to focus solely on narrative, I jumped at it.

Headlessly rushing into things isn’t the smartest thing to do – and Lara has to find out for herself. To defeat her enemy, she has to become one with the jungle.

The Challenge of Storytelling »Narrative Design in a video game is very complex,« Jason explains. »Even in a more linear story like the one we have in Shadow of the Tomb Raider, the player still has immense control over the pacing and how fast or slowly they progress through certain levels. So a lot of the work is making sure people understand what they need to understand at any given moment in the story. Through extensive playtesting, we evaluate if we’re on track and make adjustments to narrative elements of the game as we go. We plan out the high level of the story, then we break down each individual level into subsections, and plot those out. The rubber really hits the road when we start building it. We are delivering a video game not a document. So the real measure of something is on screen. And if it doesn’t work on screen we adjust/change/cut to make it work.«

Conception for Shadow of the Tomb Raider and Lara‘s long-lasting battle against her nemesis Trinity started very early on. »At a high level, Lara’s arc was planned from the beginning. The lower level you get the more open it was for us to interpret and deliver the best story and experience we possibly could. The main goal was to complete the origin story in a satisfying way. Now everyone’s vision of what that is, is a little bit different. So my job was to curate all the possibilities and make sure we had the best one. We wanted to really push Lara’s characterization in this game, push the envelop on both sides: light and dark. There are a lot of dark moments in this game but there are many really quiet and intimate moments as well, and I’m very proud of these; the game has a nice pacing and variety. There’s a scene with Lara and Jonah in the jungle where they’re talking about their pasts and you get a nice sense of who they are. They feel like real people.«

Create, Review, Repeat Iterating and adapting are a crucial part of every development process, and Shadow of the Tomb Raider was no exception. »We worked a lot on the main opponent of the story« Jason recalls. »His first iteration was more classic, and since he didn’t have a lot of screen time, this wasn’t connecting with most of us, or our playtest audience. As we improved him and made him more relatable, we created another problem; some people thought he was too sympathetic. So what we did was create a new character: Commander Rourke. HE would be the military lead of Trinity. The ›fist‹ to balance the ›heart‹ of our main opponent, Dr. Dominguez.

One of my favorite sequences of the game is the tailing sequence in ›Day of the Dead‹, near the beginning of the game. In that sequence we expose Trinity (Dr. Dominguez and Commander Rourke) as well as show Lara’s obsessiveness in her pursuit of them. And while the geometry of the level had been locked for a long time, we revised the content of that tailing sequence several times until it was just right. It’s very important to introduce your characters in a memorable way and I’m very happy with the introductions we did in the Day of the Dead level.«

Shortly after Lara‘s first appearance in Tomb Raider, she grew from an innocent adventurer to a killer – even though in self-defense – in almost no time, which partly felt pretty heavy. In »Rise of the Tomb Raider«, players were already used to her having no problem killing and even executing people, and to a certain degree it was ok, as it came with her growing into a way more experienced adventurer who knows how to take care of herself. In Shadow of the Tomb Raider, Lara even goes a large step further.

»It’s not just about escalation, it’s about momentum. We certainly had a character momentum and evolution coming from the previous two games. And we took that to an extreme in this game, Lara is going too far. She is so competent and capable that she’s potentially a danger to the whole world, not just to herself. And in the game she learns to temper and moderate her actions, becoming more strategic and less reactive in the process.«

Ending up too sympathetic for a villain, the team had to find an emotional counter-weight Dr. Dominguez and eventually created Commander Rourke.

Environment meets Narrative »It’s not a coincidence we chose the jungle,« Jason clarifies. »The story world should be a reflection of the character. The first time you arrive in the jungle, you feel like you’re in a new world. This was done intentionally. The jungle is personified by the jaguar and Lara’s trial with that predator teaches her how to be like it and use the environment as a weapon. So stealth and environmental abilities are at the forefront of this game. They are an expression of Lara herself. The jungle has the power of life and death, as does Lara.

Already well-known to fans of the series are the vast number of collectibles: relics, documents, murals, crypts and more, giving players not only something to do but also serve as a means of telling people more about the story and the region‘s background – but there is more. »One of the new ways of expanding the narrative along with relics, documents, and murals, were the side quests and the hubs. We wanted this game to be a more social experience. Not only about traversal and combat, but actual interaction (non-violent) with people. Each hub had its own theme, all different variations of Tomb Raiding. The first hub was Tomb Raiding as Pillaging. Outsiders are coming to this town, stealing artifacts and the people are suffering. The second hub, Paititi, was Tomb Raiding as Anthropology. We learn about the culture and the people and the main conflict between the rebels and the Cult of Kukulkan. The final hub was Tomb Raiding as Adventure. We wanted to harken back to a more innocent time, a feeling of wonder and excitement of discovery. All these themes are reflected in the side missions present in each hub.«

In Times of Diversity With diversity being an important and evergrowing topic today, more and more developers choose female protagonists for their titles, for example Chloe Frazier and Nadine Ross in Naughty Dog‘s »Uncharted: The Lost Legacy«. And while Lara Croft has always been a true badass, she was also well-known for her sexiness, which may seem like a challenge for writers and designers who want to adequately bring such a character on today‘s screen.

»Lara is an iconic and strong character. She drives the story forward. That’s the role of a protagonist in a story. It’s no more difficult to write a story for a female lead character than a male lead character. Each character has their own unique take on life and we simply need to give them an objective and tough challenges and have them push through those challenges. In our case we had external and internal challenges as well as interpersonal challenges (Lara’s relationship with Jonah) that gave us multiple layers to play with.

I can’t speak for other games, but this is Tomb Raider. Lara is ubiquitous; everyone knows who she is. When working on other games most non-gamers have no idea about the characters or games I work on. But when it comes to Tomb Raider, everyone knows. It’s a license that crossed over in to the popular culture in multiple different ways. The challenge with Lara, like other iconic characters, is to keep her in the present, in the now. These stories are meant to feel timeless, but they’re not set in the past. They are always set in the present. So the main challenge is to keep Lara feeling like she is part of our current time and tastes, which is why adjustments were to make when the origin trilogy was started.

In terms of difficulty, Lara’s final adventure takes her skills to the ultimate test.

Achieving Memorable Greatness Considering the amount of people working on a massive project like Shadow of the Tomb Raider, chances are high that, in hindsight, different members of the team have different personal highlights.

»I’ll pick two things: 1) From purely story and character, I love the fact that Lara’s impatience causes the story to happen. Normally a story starts with an event from the outside; Lara is her own inciting incident. This surprised a lot of people and the guilt she feels over her actions early in the game drive the story forward. And 2) I love the relationship between Lara and Jonah in the game. They are a nicely balanced duo, the range of emotions they both show and the performances that Camilla and Earl gave for those characters, is ultimately my favorite part of the game‘s narrative. If there was another sequel coming up, I’d love to see more of the lighter side of Lara’s personality. We glimpsed it at times in this game, but I’d love to see more« Jason ponders.

A Personal Wishlist Even with an impressive portfolio, one can still dream. »I love the legend of ›Zelda‹ series and RPGs in general, including ›Skyrim‹. I’ve never worked on a massive RPG with an open world, like one of those games, and I would love to be involved with helping to create a world and characters like that.«

Jason Dozois is Narrative Director at Eidos Montréal

The post Welcome to the Jungle: Making of Shadow of the Tomb Raider appeared first on Making Games.

Welcome to the Jungle: Making of Shadow of the Tomb Raider published first on https://leolarsonblog.tumblr.com/

[mrmichaelchadler]

Funny, Character-Driven Sex Education Improves with Each Episode

To find out what works, you have to try things. Some of those things will be awkward. Some will fail. Some will work, and so maybe you lean into those things. To learn what’s right for you, you have to be ready to experiment. That’s true of sex, and of love, and of storytelling. It’s certainly true of “Sex Education,” the new Netflix series from Laurie Nunn. Not everything in these initial eight episodes could be called effective, and some of it is downright gawky. But as the series progresses; as the performances of Asa Butterfield, Gillian Anderson, and the rest of the cast grow more layered; and as “Sex Education” becomes more confident and aware of what it is and what it wants, it starts to feel great. It feels healthy and funny and sexy and complicated and sad. And perhaps most importantly, it feels like a story well-told.

The story in question: What happens when the sexually repressed teenage son of a sex therapist decides to start doling out some counseling of his own to his fellow high-schoolers? Otis (Butterfield) begins to explore that question at the behest of classmate Maeve (Emma Mackey), an intelligent young woman with a cultivated tough-girl exterior she uses to deflect some of the cruelties hurled at her by the other students. He’s encouraged in this by his best friend Eric (Ncuti Gatwa), an openly gay student whose eagerness to embrace life acts as a kind of armor of his own. What Otis lacks in sexual experience of his own, he makes up for in empathy and secondhand knowledge, the latter accrued over years of living with his mother Jean (Anderson). But as some of the many students who come to him for advice will learn, Otis also picked up his mother’s struggles with healthy communication and blind spots—issues with which his friends will become intimately and sometimes distressingly familiar.

If the setup “virginal teen offers effective sex and relationship counseling to fellow students in exchange for money” sounds farfetched to you, it’s with good reason. “Sex Education” absolutely requires a willingness to accept the premise and move on. The series makes that relatively easy to do, thanks to two major factors: grounded performances that acknowledge and embrace the absurdity, and the embrace of a familiar, comfortable framework. We’ll return to the acting, but let’s begin with the unexpected, and surprisingly effective, means through which the story is told. “Sex Education” is a bit of a procedural, and its loose adherence to that form allows the series to reach and explore more than it might otherwise.

Perhaps more importantly, the recognizable cues of the procedural make it easier to take the leap the show asks. Yes, it’s absurd, but “Sex Education” isn’t interested in realism. As every episode begins, we’re shown a brief scene from the life of one of Otis and Maeve’s classmates, a scene tied in some way to their particular struggle. Adam (Connor Swindells) can’t climax. Lily (Tanya Reynolds) is just dying to lose her virginity. Ruby (Mimi Keene) doesn’t know what to do about a nude photo that’s been leaked. The list goes on. Because this is a high school, and not the New York of “Law & Order,” most of these characters return, dancing around the periphery if not playing a significant supporting role. Yet even if the characters have continuing stories, their sex-problem-of-the-week stories allow the series to tackle a wide range of issues with some thoughtfulness, getting in, exploring, and getting out with speed.

That’s a feat accomplished in part because the cast is almost uniformly good. Butterfield, extremely well cast in his role, makes this emotional teenage savant feel not just engaging to watch, but almost entirely plausible; it takes a scene of him talking another teenager off the ledge of a sparkly fake moon at a school dance to render his powers insufficient. Like his character, Butterfield is a great listener—as good as he is when he’s the center of a scene, his silent reactions might be even better. The same can be said of Anderson, whose delivery of Jean’s often uncomfortably frank dialogue occasionally (and appealingly) approaches camp territory, but whose scenes contemplating her son in his absence are among the show’s best. Several in the supporting cast also excel, notably Mackey, Reynolds, Kedar Williams-Stirling (as Maeve’s paramour Jackson), and especially Gatwa, who leaps wholeheartedly into Eric’s more playful scenes and plays those that ache with admirable, effective restraint.

Such restraint is invaluable, because while “Sex Education” benefits from the quality of its cast and the form of its overall structure, it is occasionally hindered by writing and direction. Perhaps more than any other member of the cast, Gatwa seems to identify the moments that could easily go too far, underplaying scenes grounded in a few particularly hoary tropes. If actors like Gatwa can compensate for such stumbles, there are others, Alistair Petrie as the sneering school headmaster in particular, that seem to highlight the show’s shortcomings. “Sex Education” makes some pretty bit tonal leaps, and most of them are successful; nearly all of them that don’t are linked by broad performances and writing that, if not exactly harmful, is considerably less thoughtful than the whole.

There’s a similar tension in the direction, a few big swings that don’t work as well as those that precede and follow, including a couple unexpectedly surreal moments that seem to have sprung straight from a fan-edited version of “Trainspotting”. By and large, however, directors Kate Herron and Ben Taylor exercise a restraint that mirrors that of the performers, allowing the cast to unpack the complexities of the relationships while the camera uncovers the isolation and loneliness of life as a teenager through shots that highlight isolation, distance, and smallness. Two bikers pedal down a long, empty road, glimpsed from far, far above. Two teenagers open lockers side by side, standing close together yet separated by a solid, black wall. A young man briefly walks away from his coat to ask for directions, and the camera pans with him; when he and the camera return, the coat is gone, and he’s alone. It’s smart stuff, with roots in the emotional lives of these kids. That focus allows even the most ridiculous moments to feel rooted in something genuine.

“Sex Education” won’t be for everybody. The humor is often very dark, the awkwardness so cringe-inducing it can be difficult to watch. But like a well-meaning teen therapist, its intentions are so good that it’s difficult to hold much against the series. Like a generous partner, it’s willing to experiment and find a balance that works. And like sex—like good sex anyway—it’s often an absolute pleasure.

Full season screened for review. 

from All Content http://bit.ly/2TB1VLK

[kylekozmikdeluxo]

The above photo showcases a stained glass window that was photographed for the cover of The Beach Boys’ late 1967 release WILD HONEY.

WILD HONEY, turning 50 tomorrow, is my personal favorite Beach Boys album.

Not the best album they’ve done. I believe that honor, as cliche as this may sound, belongs to PET SOUNDS. In second place would be 1970′s SUNFLOWER, a real group effort. That also is pretty cliche, as SUNFLOWER is often considered to be the best post-PET SOUNDS Beach Boys album. Then after those two, it would be a near-tie between 1965′s THE BEACH BOYS TODAY! (the album that arguably thrust the band into their golden period) and this gem.

WILD HONEY was a rather hastily whipped-up album. 1967 wasn’t a fruitful year for the brothers Wilson, Mike Love, Al Jardine, and Bruce Johnston. Brian Wilson, amidst mental health issues and several other problems, put a halt to his opus-in-the-making SMiLE around the springtime. One of SMiLE’s biggest components, the epic ‘Heroes and Villains,’ was reworked into a 3 1/2-minute single that was released in July to moderate sales and mixed reception. This particular miss affected Brian, still feeling he had to match or top The Beatles, deeply...

Another big blow occurred that same summer, when the band at last minute pulled out of the legendary Monterey Pop Festival. Overnight, The Beach Boys went from respected band to relic. ‘Good Vibrations,’ a #1 hit single in October of 1966, was the end. SMILEY SMILE, released in SMiLE’s place in September, polarized listeners. Old time fans who were expecting surfing and hot rod songs must’ve been shocked, the hip crowd wrote it off as outdated surfer garbage, and fans - aware of what SMiLE was going to be - were very disappointed. Instead of a complex LP full of layered pocket symphonies, they got strange, very druggy, stripped down reinventions of SMiLE material.

The image problem was exacerbated. A review of WILD HONEY in Rolling Stone magazine made it clear that Brian Wilson was no pop genius, that he was “overrated” and just another tossaway Beatle wannabe. By the end of 1967, it was not cool to like The Beach Boys. Americans dropped them faster than a moldy sandwich... Just a year after ‘Good Vibrations’ shot to #1 on the Billboard chart...

Brian deliberately left the “race” he was in with John Lennon and Paul McCartney. SMILEY SMILE was a retreat, but he was on to something. SMILEY SMILE was The Beach Boys going raw, minimalist... Long before the “cool” and “hip” Bob Dylan did it with JOHN WESLEY HARDING, before The Beatles did it with their self-titled album, before The Rolling Stones ditched psychedelia for hard-driving blues-based rock... Brian was already two steps ahead.

The band at one point intended to release a live album next. After a series of August concerts went over poorly in Hawaii, they then decided to “make” a live album in the studio. Very raw versions of their hits were recorded at the Wally Heider studio, along with covers of contemporary songs... They planned to add some canned audience sounds, and release the set as LEI’D IN HAWAII. It did not happen. For obvious reasons...

Instead of pulling something like that, the band decided to get to work on a new studio album later in September. Like SMILEY SMILE before it, the music wouldn’t be an attempt to be the greatest. No more SMiLE-like ambitions, no more tries at keeping up with The Beatles and everyone else... The result was WILD HONEY.

It’s a bit hard for me to describe what makes WILD HONEY so great. The album runs less than 25 minutes long, each of its 11 tracks are shorter than 3 minutes, and the tone throughout is mostly energetic. Each track breezes by, all of them just the right length. As straightforward as one can get with a Beach Boys album, just rock ‘n’ roll... Yet this simple record blends in R&B and soul influences, with a dash of subtle psychedelia. 1967 was a year of eclectic albums and many diverse sounds, WILD HONEY sounds unlike anything released in 1967... That says *a lot*.

Not psychedelic in the San Francisco sense, or even the New York sense. No mindboggling, hazy-sounding numbers or swirling head-spinners. WILD HONEY mixes all of its ideas in a way that’s barely been imitated years later. The simplistic rock beat, the soulful brass, the use of theremin, the organ, the barroom piano... While the Beach Boys’ vocal harmonies aren’t quite front-and-center here, they unify what we’re hearing and create a unique psychedelic sound. It’s one of a kind...

The songs themselves? Some love ditties, a few with a real sexy drive to them, intimate songs about the country air, a party rocker about how she boogalooed it, and even a little fragment reminder of SMiLE. It doesn’t seem groundbreaking on the surface, but actually hearing, it produces an optimistic feeling like no other. Something’s quite airy about it, everything feels right after it’s over. For some reason, the last few minutes or so of this gem felt like a dud. ‘How She Boogalooed It,’ I felt, was out of place on the album, and ‘Mama Says’ was a pleasant but ultimately unnecessary ending. Where were the outtakes ‘Lonely Days’ and ‘Time To Get Alone’?

In the recent months, I’m finding myself loving these final three minutes of the LP. ‘How She Boogalooed It’ is almost like the fun goodbye breather, after the ethereal beauty of ‘Let The Wind Blow.’ The fun send-off, and then a treat - ‘Mama Says.’ Just the silly “eat a lot, sleep a lot” chant that was originally going to be on the SMiLE track ‘Vega-Tables.’

Perhaps it was the all-new stereo mix of WILD HONEY that helped me appreciate this climax, and also many other things I had never heard before. WILD HONEY, for whatever reason, was given a very dodgy mono mix back when it was first released. The songs, despite their qualities, sounded muddy and underproduced. Released earlier this year, the archival set 1967 - SUNSHINE TOMORROW, contained WILD HONEY in fully-remastered stereo. Let me tell you, this mix uncovers all the little nuances in the music that were buried in all the previous versions... Hearing them in this form, they sound very timely, very 1967 yet still ahead of where the music scene was back then. Brian’s very much hard at work here, contrary to the popular story that Brian resigned from production altogether after the collapse of SMiLE.

While SMiLE-like ambitions aren’t to be found here, the new mixes reveal that these songs were indeed layered and carefully thought-out. It says a lot when a new mix of something makes you love something you already have loved for years in a whole new way.

SUNSHINE TOMORROW packed the goods... Some WILD HONEY session materials, the *entire* master tape of LEI’D IN HAWAII, some SMILEY SMILE outtakes, little odds & ends, and some live tracks. It was an excellent set through-and-through. Hearing the few “work-in-progress” sessions pieces of the WILD HONEY songs were a revelation, and it was great to finally hear formerly-rare tracks that were never even bootlegged. Things like ‘Honey Get Home’ and the like. The LEI’D IN HAWAII material initially left me puzzled, but on subsequent listens, I find great joy in these quieter “live” versions of the classics. Even without the production wizardry and resources, The Beach Boys are The Beach Boys. They *had* it.

Little did I know that The Beach Boys enterprise released *two* digital-only sequels to this collection, the first of which I picked up the other day: SUNSHINE TOMORROW 2 - THE STUDIO SESSIONS.

You want deep? This collection dives *deep*. Like, trench deep, into the WILD HONEY sessions, throwing in plenty of SMILEY SMILE and LEI’D IN HAWAII stuff as well. The other collection is called LIVE SUNSHINE, and it’s going for about $50. I’ll scoop that up some other time, I’m more interested in studio material... Both of these collections completely delivered. Hearing even more of the little nuances that you couldn’t get off of the original WILD HONEY mix, wonderful! (Pun intended.) A cappella versions of some of the songs? So cool. Some of the unfinished LEI’D IN HAWAII stuff rules, too, such as a backing track of ‘Barbara Ann’ that suggested that The Beach Boys in that state could really *rock*. An outtake called ‘L Tune’ double-confirms that.

I would’ve never imagined, 5-6 years ago, that archive sets would even be considered for the SMILEY/HONEY period of The Beach Boys.

The Beach Boys have done excellent archival sets before. 1993′s GOOD VIBRATIONS: THIRTY YEARS OF THE BEACH BOYS had a whole disc of SMiLE material along with plenty of outtakes, alt. mixes, and live tracks. THE PET SOUNDS SESSIONS needed no explanation, 2001′s HAWTHORNE, CA contained some great rarities. In 2011, they got back on the game with THE SMILE SESSIONS, following that up with plenty of live albums... Then in 2015 came BEACH BOYS’ PARTY! UNCOVERED AND UNPLUGGED, a gargantuan set dedicated to what is and has been a very divisive Beach Boys record... But one that revealed that there was something unique under the surface, one more.

With that set out, I wondered... Will they do a SMILEY/HONEY set in 2017? They did... And boy, did they...

Now I’m hoping next year, we get a set with all the FRIENDS and 20/20 sessions and everything else recorded around that time period. And you can bet your bippy that I’m *craving* a complete SUNFLOWER sessions archive set that collects *everything* recorded from January 1969 to July 1970!

[personinthepalace]

#you know what. i just love to observe their phisycal interactions#it feels so... intimate. complex. layered. and very sexy#watch clara's face when twelve is circling around her#the way twelve quitely but firmly said i'll be the judge of time...#oh my god. they're just HOT via @winterswake

DOCTOR WHO — The Zygon Inversion