#dj crystal clear

[purplelito1996]

Jayo Felony - Take A Rode Slowed & Chopped By Dj Crystal Clear

[lactoseintolerentswag]

Donnie Tech Part 1/?

After many moons here are the promised observations of the cartoon shtick logic of Donnie's weapons for season one!! Will link a season two and movie version Eventually, but keep in mind I can't explain in depth how each bit of tech works, rather that I can pinpoint the functions for the visual bit. Keep in mind that Donnie's tech can pretty much do any ridiculous thing you can put your mind to, and that it can also backfire in any ridiculous way you can put your mind to.

Tech Bo:

Collapsible, can become a shorter version of itself easily stored

Shoot a grappling hook AND function as a zip line

Can form a rocket from either end (usually at the same time, resulting in the bo spinning)

Is equipped to be a fire extinguisher

Can shoot out lasers

Has a button that activates the "Shopping Cart Protocol" to lock the Turtle Tank if it goes outside a set perimeter

Top can turn into a rocket powered fist

Turn into a giant drill

Turn into a saw

Turn into a tranquilizer

Turn into a tennis ball shooter

Turn into a selfie stick

Top can turn into a disco ball of "multidimensional reflective orb neutralizer"

Battle Shell:

Has rotary engines (think jet turbine or computer fan) that help him fly around. He calls them "rotors" for short

Can transform into a seat so April can sit on his back

Can split up into a DJ set up in "music mode"

Jet Pack Shell:

His fastest mode of transportation

Not much is shown, but April had a significant difficulty controlling it

Spider Shell:

Has four arms with three fingers

Arms can turn into saws

Has a seemingly endless toolkit inside that includes basic things like hammers and wrenches, but also blowtorches

Goggles:

Has night vision

Can function as binoculars

Is able to summon is tech ("communicates with microwave transceiver with class c encryption protocols")

Read mystic energy signatures after adding the crystal they found in Draxum's lab

Gauntlet:

Has an app that can tap into every security camera in NY

Bug Slapper:

Has a green Mad Dogs sticker on the side

Compacts itself into a metal suitcase and then expand back into a vehicle

So far only uses Big Mama's webbing material as projectiles

Shelldon:

Began as an automated smart lair designed with the intent as a cleaning assistant

Has a "disposal unit" which unlocks several of Donnie's weapons such as: guns, pinchers, drills, and flamethrowers

Can carry at least two turtles (Mikey and Donnie)

Is nicknamed "Cyber Bishop" by Donnie

Uses surfer dude slang: “dude”, “gnarly”, “buzzkill”, “okey dokey”, “dawg”, “you beefed it”, “brohounds"

As a smart lair has clear favoritism towards Donnie until tampered with. As a drone they share more of a familial or pet like relationship, and Shelldon has room to sometimes poke at Donnie's faults as well

In conclusion there's not much to worry about breaking canon, the physics of our reality, or understanding complicated tech and science to write about Donnie's tech. He can do whatever he wants as long as it's silly, overly dramatic, and includes an unnecessary amount of purple guns. His tech bo is especially flexible with breaking the rules even before we get to his ninpo powers.

I'm keeping the Turtle Tank separate, because it also deserves its own post. Happy writing!

[moronkyne]

Random D.A.M.N. Crew headcanons

✧༺✦✮✦༻∞༺✦✮✦༻✧ ✧༺✦✮✦༻∞༺✦✮✦༻✧

✫ Gavin is hella Moisturized. And Freelancer has naturally dry skin. I like to imagine Gavin with this crystal clear glass skin and Freelancer suffers with hella acne.

✫ Freelancer does graphic design/Digital art and Dear is more of the oil painting/Clay sculpting side of things. They tried to swap and teach one another…Yeah, no.

✫ Huxleys deathly afraid to Jay-Walk. (Is that how u spell it) Meanwhile Freelancer crosses the road without thinking twice about it.

✫ Freelancer is the type of person to like all kinds of music, so naturally, they love every single friends playlist. You give them DJ perms? The Temptations from Damien’s playlist. The Neighborhood from Laskos. Chase Atlantic from Gavins—Etc etc.

✫ Not necessarily D.A.M.N. Crew, but I feel like Lasko and Guy would make decent DnD buddies. Honeys the one who got Guy into DnD. Hey! Also. Honey and Lasko Cousin/half siblings just popped into the brain oh no

✫ They all have matching bracelets that resemble their empowerments (made by your truly, Freelancer) regardless if it’s their favorite color or a color that “looks good on them”

✫ The crew goes camping a LOT. Laskos in charge of marshmallows—(flashbacks)—Huxley and Damien the fire wood. Gavin and Freelancer have the tents (bc magic. Yk. Gavin.) and Dear come with bug spray, sunscreen, first aid, etc.

I’m sorry this isn’t a headcanon but FUCKKKK GAVIN. DO I LIKE GAVIN? FUCKKKKKKKWKKKKKEKKK GREAAH BABABBAGYYYYY HOLYGY SHIT IM SUPPOSED TO BR DOING PAPERWWORK BUT FUCKOhhesanasshole

[ofstoriesandstardust]

crystal clear on a star lit night (javi - twisters)

note: wrote this for funnies and on a whim trapped in the post-Niall Horan concert parking lot. enjoy! :)

summary: You and Javi kiss for the first time on the lawn at a Niall Horan concert.

word count: 795

Tyler tells you all casually one morning that an old bull riding friend-turned-radio DJ had extra lawn tickets to Niall Horan’s show in Arkansas if you all wanted to drive up there to catch the show. 

You choke on your coffee. 

“Wasn’t he that guy in One Direction?” Dani muses.

“That silly British boy band?” Javi asks with a curious glance. “All the girls in school liked them.” 

“Niall is Irish.” You choke and the group turns to you. “And unless someone wants to risk suffering bodily harm, we’re going.” 

“I’ll load the truck!” Kate says with a bright smile over the rim of her mug. 

“It’s gonna be a long drive, ain’t it?” Lilly mutters. 

-

All in all, it doesn’t even end up being that bad of a road trip. The two hours are filled with the rare sight of you on aux, taking One Direction requests, and Kate telling you about how she used to secretly buy their albums. 

Boone and Lilly fight over the snacks and you think Tyler’s eye starts twitching when you make the car sing What Makes You Beautiful, but the lot of you have had way longer stretches with everyone in worse moods. 

Boone and Lilly realize they know the opener, Del Water Gap, dancing their way across your guys secluded area of the lawn. Kate dances with you during the opening songs and you think you even catch Tyler bopping his head a few times, despite his insistence that he did not like this type of music. 

When Niall slows down the show, opening it for the acoustic set, you find yourself seated next to Javi. You wrap your arms around his, tucking your head into his shoulder. 

“Having a good time?” He whispers as Niall begins to play The Show. 

You nod. “The best.” You pause for a minute. “Did you know it’s been ten years since I’ve seen Niall?” 

A smirk forms on his face but there’s no real smugness hidden behind it. “You’ve told me that four times.” 

You shrug, feeling your face go hot. “I’m just excited, s’all.” 

Javi smiles, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as you turn back to the concert. 

You clutch him a little tighter, both missing the knowing looks of your friends from behind you. 

While you and Javi had both separately realized your more than platonic feelings for the other, you both had told your friends separately that you didn’t think the other returned them. 

And despite their, in their opinion, fairly obvious meddling, the two of you stayed teetering on the precipice of something more without ever actually becoming something more. 

It’s when you squeeze Javi’s arm, realizing Niall is playing This Town that Javi realizes. 

You’re not even looking at him, the action done out of reflex. He’ll tell you later that this is when he realized he couldn’t spend a second more without kissing you and when you ask why he didn’t then, he’ll tell you it would’ve been a crime to disturb you when you were so happy. 

(Boone jokes Javi was afraid of risking major bodily harm if he had interrupted the concert to kiss you.)

So there, on a dewy lawn in the middle of Rogers, Arkansas, after Niall has concluded the show, does Javi kiss you for the first time. 

You let out a surprised noise in the back of your throat as he does, his hands finding purchase on your hips, tucked into your belt loops. The soft fabric of your sweatshirt rubs against his fingers as he feels you tug on his shirt, pulling him ever so closer to you. The once-cautious kiss goes further as you tilt your head and the whooping behind you could never be mistaken as cheers for the man who’d just left the stage. 

Niall’s encore couldn’t have a come at a better time, saving Javi from a charge of public indecency as you pull away, nudging your nose with his. “Look,” You whisper. “I told you it wasn’t over yet.” 

“You sure did tell me.” He says and you snort, pressing one quick chaste kiss on his lips before making him stand up to dance with you. 

After the close of the show, for real this time, Tyler is surveying the crowd, trying to figure out the quickest way out when you tug on his sleeve. “One more for the road?” 

He laughs, leaning down to press another kiss to your lips. “Darling, you can have all the kisses on the road. And off. And whenever.” 

Someone clears their throat from behind you and you both turn, glancing at Dani as she starts ushering you both after Tyler. 

“Just so we’re clear — no sex in the back of truck.”

[aesthetic-gamersnail]

Incorrect Quotes from Trolls 3 round five (I welcome you all back)

Branch: It's a cautionary tale!

of fear and lust and pride!

Based on actual events

where people DIE.

Poppy: No one died

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

JD: If Clay is the sun, then I'm a disco ball

Cause I'm just as bright and fun, if you've had alcohol

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

JD: Take my card in case you change your mind. I also dj and I designed that font, sooooooo BOYE

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Clay: *knocking at the the bathroom door* You've been in there a very long time! You're either doing drugs or very constipated from using drugs!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Clay: Floyd, you tried the fast life, embrace the math life!

JD: That's a forced rhyme-

Clay: JD, GET OFF MY DICK!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Floyd: This picture of George Michael is something I like to hold when I'm singing.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Clay: Do you have a pink shirt I could wear tomorrow?

JD: No.

Floyd: Yes, what shade?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

JD: This guy at Spencer's gifts is hooking me up with a case of crystal pepsi! It's like regular pepsi - just clear!

Bruce: Yeah...wasn't that discontinued many years ago?

JD: THAT'S WHAT MAKES IT SO AWESOME!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Branch: From now on, the ladies are gonna get to love the REAL Branch!

...And the dudes....

Oh my god, I'm totally biii.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

JD: Happiness comes,

when everything's numb.

Who needs cocaaaaaine?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Branch: My problems were myriad

Poppy: I was having my period

Branch:

Poppy:*breaks into uncontrollable laughter*

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Poppy: I shouldn't watch this crap,

that's not who I am

but with this kid

*looks at Branch beating someone up*

DAAAAAMMMMMMNNN

[cho-aaacho]

(Flufftober 2023) Drunken Confession

Main Masterlist I Archive Of Our Own

Flufftober 2023 Masterlist I Prompts List

Tags : Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Drunken Confessions, Drunken Kissing, Flufftober 2023, Reader is genderless

(Flufftober Day 26)

"What happened?"

The pulsating electric music flowed through the entire bar, entertaining the crowd with enchanting light. It was a night where everyone could feel their freedom and enjoy their lives without worries, escaping from reality.

The nightlife era began to invade your veins and evoke your very mind to join in and embark on an extraordinary nighttime.

Some people danced with playful abandon, their movements synchronizing with the electric beat, slapping anything within reach, and attempting to focus on the beat of the music. The DJ, despite playing the same music every 10 minutes, had an enthusiastic crowd circling him.

You meandered your gaze on the table, where a crystal-clear glass stood gracefully. Honestly, you have the urge to savor its contents, tempting you to taste the burning sensation over your taste buds, but you remember that your main priority isn't drinking. With lazy eyes, you turned away.

"He's drunk," Piers remarked with a pause. "I'm sorry for involving you in this situation."

You sighed in mild irritation, observing just how bad Jake was. Well, he was certainly old enough to look after himself, yet he still relied on you. He always needed your guide to walk through everything as if you were his moral compass.

"No, it's okay, Piers. Thank you for calling me," you retorted, dripping with a subtle sarcasm. "Sometimes we need some challenges, but instead of starting at level 1, we jump straight to the boss level."

Piers laughed, detecting the fun-loving tone in your voice. He found himself unable to stifle fits of laughter; his gaze fell toward you and shifted to Jake, who was now comfortably sleeping on the couch.

For the past 2 hours, he has become increasingly annoyed by Jake's behavior after participating in a weird competition to see who could drink more. Well, it isn't a good idea to brag to a bunch of people. They were just stupid guys.

"You're so right. So, what's the plan now? Are you leaving our Crazy Bald here, or..."

"Of course, I'll be driving him home, Piers. So please, I need your help to carry him to my car."

You leaned in closer and circled your hand around Jake's neck, touching his neck with your fingertips, feeling his warmth with your softness, and feeling his mystery around your presence. Piers, on the other hand, is wandering his gaze; he's a bit confused with your expression.

And without warning, Jake opens his eyes, scanning your details with his eyes and trying to tell you something with those eyes. His blue met you, melting you away with those gazes of his. A rosy hue painted his face, and you are 100% sure that he is still drunk.

"Come on, Jake. Don't be a baby and wake up! Piers and I will help you. I know you were too drunk to walk."

"I love you." Jake mused, his fingertips delicately tracing your cheeks, his thumb pressing your lips, and his touch traveling around your earlobe, moving to your neck, and moving down until he stopped after Piers slapped him.

"What the hell, Jake?" Piers commented. "You stole my start!" 

You found yourself surprised, but in this state, his actions cannot be blamed. Isn't it?

Initially, you couldn't catch up with his words; they felt like alien to you. But something inside your mind was awakening, and you didn't know what it was.

"I love you; please be mine..."

With a gentle lean, he softly planted a kiss on your lips. The taste of alcohol mingled with your heavy breath as his tongue invaded passionately inside yours.

He stopped momentarily and said, "I love you," sealing another velvety kiss before falling into a slumber on the couch again.

Note : Jake's story ends in this chapter and the last two parts will be Jack Krauser and William Birkin. So put your hands up, Krauser and Birkin fans!

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 7,145 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female!Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: S10/S11, The Reapers Warnings: language, sexuality, nothing else really in this one but get ready for the next one haha A/N: All gifs made by me. :) This is Part 8 of a series! Find all the parts on my pinned post, the Master List! Summary: Alexandria tries to figure out how to survive. Daryl and Y/N explore their closeness and keep filling in the gaps of their lives. Daryl and DJ bond some more.

Previous Chapter - Part 7

“Except for losin’ you, it was the lowest I’ve ever been, I think… Every fuckin’ day I thought ‘bout givin’ up. Woulda been easier to,” Daryl drawled softly. You were tucked in against him with his arm around you, your hand resting on his bare chest, head on his shoulder, looking up through your lashes at him. His fingers were trailing over the bare skin on your shoulder and your upper arm. “When I was in there,” he paused, wondering if he should even tell you this, “I—I was hallucinatin’ at one point. I dunno if it was the lack of sleep, or dehydration, or hunger but—” He gulped. “I saw ya in there. In the cell with me—crystal clear as if I could reach out and touch you.”

You leaned up on your elbow, your eyes wide and sad and striking. “Daryl…” There were tears in them.

“I just remember askin’ ya where ya were… Screamin’ it. I just wanted to know where ya were…” he trailed off. A shadow fell over his face for a moment, before he grabbed your hand that was resting on his chest and held it gently in his, his thumb moving over the back of it. This grounded him in this moment instead of in the torture he was reliving as he told you. You were still looking at him sorrowfully. You could hardly believe what he’d been through. They’d fed him fucking dog food. He’d been beaten and starved… humiliated. You felt sick. You saw the muscle in his jaw tense as he clenched his teeth together. He finally looked over and caught your eyes again. “You’re the reason I didn’t give up. I just—I still believed ya were alive and out there… somewhere.”

You sighed, pain aching in your chest, that canyon created by your worry and sadness wedged between your eyebrows. You’d spent the last couple hours going through so much of it, just talking, but you knew there was far more. The thick scar on his leg, the “X” that looked like a brand burned into his back... more. A lot more. And that was just him. You hadn’t even talked about any of your darkest moments. You figured he’d read about them soon enough in your journal. “The next time I see Negan, I’m gonna punch him in the face.”

Daryl actually chuckled. “I’d like to see that actually. But if he talks to ya again, I’ll probably beat ya to it. He ain’t the same as he was but…” He shook his head.

You leaned up and kissed him, brushing away his hair from his forehead. You placed another kiss near his jaw.

You’d been surprised when you woke up that Daryl was still asleep with you in his arms. He was usually the earliest riser. You’d been unable to resist placing a gentle kiss on his jawline then too, and he had stirred immediately, blinking open his bright blue eyes and tightening his arm around you. “Part of me thought this was all gonna be a dream I’d wake up from today,” he’d said, his fingertips dimpling into your softness.

You’d shaken your head, giving him a sleepy smile, your fingers splaying out on his chest. “Nope,” you’d said. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You ran your fingers through his wavy brown hair and he leaned into the touch of your fingertips. You chewed your bottom lip nervously for a moment before speaking what was on your mind. “Daryl?”

“Mmm,” he hummed, hardly moving, and certainly not opening his eyes. He was that comfortable with you tucked in against, stroking his hair. It was like a dream.

“Did you ever—” you broke off, and Daryl sensed perhaps some stress in your voice, because now he did open his eyes and looked right at you. You bit your bottom lip nervously. “Did you ever tell her about me?”

“Leah?” he asked, though it wasn’t necessary. Daryl gulped and felt an unpleasant tightness in his chest, as if someone was tightening a belt around his diaphragm or pushing a weight down onto his lungs. He avoided your eyes as if he still felt guilty over this other relationship despite the fact that you’d tried to relieve him of any such notion. He nodded. “I did. But I also didn’t…”

You leaned up on your elbow. Curiosity tugged at your brow. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I had the tattoo already. She asked me about it. I told her that I’d lost you. She knew—I mean, she could tell that it was—that you were—” He struggled to find the right words. He finally gave up and just cleared his throat. “But I never told her anythin’ else. I dunno why really…” His hand drifted up to your bare shoulder and his index finger drew absent circles on it. “It just felt—sacred.”

Your heart ached at his words and you leaned up and kissed him softly, the pillow of your lips against his as light as a breeze. You felt his blue eyes on you and now he was the one who looked at you with a questioning glance. “Hmm?” you prompted him, sliding your fingers down another wavy strand of his brown hair. It was soft and shiny from your shower together the night before.

“What’re we gonna do about the kids?” he asked. “I mean—‘bout DJ mostly? Are we gonna tell him that we—uhh… are we—?”

This almost made you laugh. “Together?” you finished for him. He nodded. “What do you want?”

His eyes flickered over your face for a moment. The early morning light had the halo of fly-aways around your face glowing. “I dun ever want this to end,” he said softly.

You smiled at him, small at first and then growing and blooming like petals opening in the daylight. You were staggering—how much light you still contained. “Me neither,” you agreed. “But about DJ—mmm,” you nodded thoughtfully, leaning against his broad chest. “I think we need to take it slow. It’s been a lot lately—losing our home, finding Maggie, finding his dad, all these new people, a new community… I want the two of you to build a bond naturally, you know? Day by day.”

Daryl nodded in agreement. “Me too. Alrigh’. But, uhh—I’mma have a hard time keepin’ my hands off ya, too,” he drawled. You grinned at him.

“Same.”

He suddenly swept you over so you were caged beneath him again. You let out a surprised laugh and draped your arms around his neck. He was just kissing along your collarbone when you both heard a distinctive bark outside and then a knock on the front door.

“Ah, shit,” Daryl murmured, pulling back and hanging his head. “S’Maggie and the kids.” He hastily climbed out of bed and tugged on his pants. You slipped out from under the sheets and he tossed your clothes to you, before grabbing his own shirt and pulling it on.

Another loud knock. “Daryl?” Maggie’s voice came through the front door.

“Comin’!” Daryl called out. You started to make a dash for the room you’d been sharing with DJ but Daryl caught you around the waist in the doorway and pulled you in for one last deep kiss. You smiled up at him, a little lightheaded almost, before darting down the hall.

Daryl unlocked and tugged open the door. Maggie was there with RJ, Jude, DJ, and Hershel, giving him a curious look. “Everythin’ okay?” she asked.

Daryl nodded, avoiding her eyes, feeling his face and chest flush involuntarily. He wondered if she could sense that something had happened between the two of you. Was that the real reason why’d she’d suggested he patch you up and the kids stay put last night? To give the two of you some more time alone? Hmm. If she had been that devious or clear-sighted, he ought to fucking thank her. “Yeah. Good. All good,” Daryl drawled, scruffing a hand through his hair.

Maggie nodded. “How’s Y/N doin’?”

“Uhh—oh. Yeah, she’s fine. Got her all—all fixed up last night.” And then some. “Gash on her arm didn’t need stitches. Should heal fine,” Daryl nodded. “We were just gettin’ ready to head up to the meetin’ house,” he said, avoiding Maggie’s eyes again, still afraid she’d be able to see what had happened somehow. Dog barked happily and came bursting into the house, pushing past Daryl followed by a stampede of the kids. He managed to give DJ’s shoulder a fond squeeze as he ran by and he looked up from beneath his wavy hair and smiled. “Hey! Where’s my hug?” he called after the others. Jude and RJ circled back and Daryl knelt down to grab them into his arms. “Missed you,” he said, smiling at them.

“Missed you!” they both said back, smiles on their faces and light in their brown eyes. It warmed Daryl through and through.

“Alrigh’, go on in and play,” Daryl drawled, ruffling RJ’s hair.

“Is Aunt Y/N still here?” Jude asked, her brown eyes big and bright.

“Mhm, she’s right inside,” Daryl said, pointing toward the hallway. DJ was already headed straight toward you. You met him halfway, now in a fresh change of clothes.

“Mom!” he called, hurrying to accept the hug you were offering with a broad smile on your face.

You squeezed him tight and breathed in his smell. “Oh, I missed you. How are you? Alright?” He nodded, and then noticed the bandage on your arm. “Oh—it’s just a little cut. Nothing to worry about,” you said, catching his expression. “Sleep okay? Have fun?” He nodded.

Judith and RJ came bounding up behind DJ grinning. “Are you alright?” Judith asked, eyeing the bandage now too.

“Completely fine,” you reassured her. “Daryl fixed it up for me as good as new.” She seemed satisfied with that answer.

“How did the supply run go? Did you find some food for everyone?” she asked.

You cocked an eyebrow at her. “We did. And we all came back safe and sound, so I’d say that’s a good trip, yeah?”

“How much food did you find?” Judith still seemed worried.

You gave her a long look and then reached for her hand with both of yours and smoothed it between them. “Are you worrying about that?” you asked her gently, a rhetorical question. You could see it in her eyes. “We found enough for now. And we’ll go find more.”

She glanced over at RJ, who had run off to play with Dog in the living room. DJ had gone into the spare room to change into some clean clothes. “But that means you and Uncle Daryl will have to leave again. And Aunt Maggie and probably more. And we just got you and Aunt Maggie back.”

Your heart was breaking in your chest. You nodded again. “Yeah, I know. And we wish we didn’t have to leave so much. But once we get this place up and running again, things will be better. You’ll see.”

Judith ducked her head a little, adjusting the sheriff’s hat that had been Carl’s and her dad’s before that. “Everyone leaves… and what if no one ever comes back?”

“Oh, Judith.” You opened your arms for a hug and she leaned right in and you squeezed her extra tight. “I’m so sorry about your mom and dad. I miss them too. I was hoping to find them here with all of you.” You pulled back just enough to look into her sad brown eyes. “But me finding all of you after all this time should tell you that they aren’t gone forever. And I just know they are doing everything they can to get back here to you and your brother. It’s okay to be sad about it, or mad, or lost, or sometimes to feel nothing at all. But I know you’ve got so many people here who love you and would do absolutely anything for you and RJ. Including me.”

Judith managed a small smile for you and you were relieved to see how it brightened her face.

Daryl appeared at the end of the hall, and you didn’t know he’d seen and heard the whole exchange you’d just had with Judith. His chest was aching, but at the same time he felt filled with a wholesome warmth that had been previously rare in this life, but was becoming commonplace now since having found you again. “Ya ready?” he drawled.

“Yeah,” you said standing up. “Let me just say bye to DJ fast. You’ll all be okay here for a bit?” you asked Jude, and she nodded. You went down the hall and knocked on the bedroom door. “DJ? I’m heading out for a bit, just up the street, okay?” The door opened and there he was, his hair a little wild with static since he’d just pulled a different shirt on.

“Are you gonna tell me about the supply run? About what happened to your arm?” he asked, his expression quite serious.

You nodded slowly. “Sure. If you really want.” He nodded again. “Okay. It’ll have to wait until after I get back though, alright? Gimme another hug.” He obliged and you kissed the top of his head before he flitted off to rejoin everyone out in the living room.

Soon, you and Daryl were accompanying Maggie up the street to the meeting house. Hershel had stayed back at Daryl’s. Judith’s worry and DJ’s grim question were on your mind. “When did they turn into such—little people, you know?” you asked, glancing over at Daryl. “Worrying about this place, worrying about us just like we worry about them,” you said.

Maggie nodded her agreement. “I don’t know. But I guess it means we’ve taught them right,” she drawled in her sweet southern accent. “Though I know we all wish they didn’t have to worry about anything.”

The core of Alexandria’s leadership was already gathered inside the meeting house when the three of you arrived. The mood was tense as Gabriel explained that all the MREs you’d managed to procure from the military base would only last one week. Considering the close call it had been, it was like a slap in the face.

You swore under your breath and leaned forward on your hands on the table in front of you. Daryl shifted beside you, his arms crossed over his broad chest, and his posture stiff. He wished more than anything that he could just reach for you, rest his hand on the small of your back, but this was all too new, too precious still for him to do that so blatantly in front of everyone. “That’s it? A week?” he drawled, disappointment and anxiety increasing the gruff quality to his deep voice.

Gabriel nodded.

“We can make it work,” Aaron said, though you noted that he looked thoroughly worried too.

Carol voiced her skepticism, and you had to agree with her. You straightened up and shook your head. “We don’t have time for the usual solutions,” you said. “We need a windfall of food and we need it now. We need it yesterday.” You locked eyes with Maggie and Daryl caught onto it immediately.

“What?”

“I know where we can find food, and a lot of it. The place we lived before this. Meridian. It’s got plenty of food, water, crops, and animals. Backstock. All of it.”

“Yeah, and now it’s gone,” Elijah said.

You shook your head, your gaze still fixed down toward the rough wood table in front of you. “It’s not gone. Not exactly. At least, not in the same way that my home, Fox Hollow, is.”

The trauma behind your words hit Daryl as if he was permeating the air around you, like it was bleeding out from you. He tried to study your expression more closely but it was difficult to read your profile.

Maggie sighed heavily. There was a tense moment before Rosita asked the question on everyone’s minds.

“So, what happened out there?”

Your eyes shut for a long moment and then you murmured a quiet “excuse me,” and headed for the door to step outside into the open air for a moment. Carol straightened up as if to go after you and Daryl did the same, on his feet first, but Maggie stopped them. “It’s alright. She just needs a second. She’ll be alright.” Maggie had, of course, already heard you recount the fall of your home several times. But that didn’t mean it got any easier.

And then came the story of how Meridian had fallen to The Reapers. Its people—slaughtered.

“What exactly happened to Y/N’s community, Fox Hollow she called it?” Carol asked. “She made it sound—worse somehow, though I’m not sure how that’s possible.”

You were coming back in as Carol asked it. You seemed steady again and Daryl gave you a glance as if to ask if you were okay. You nodded and resumed your place next to him, standing at the table again. “My people weren’t caught off-guard in quite the same way Maggie’s were. We had scouts who had seen some sign of these Reapers in the days before they showed up, not that we knew exactly who or what they were after... In fact, one of our scouts had gone missing. We were ready for something, but we didn’t know exactly what was coming. We’d doubled the watch and taken more precautions. Stocked ammunition at the guard posts and the walls. They came. My people fought.” Your eyes shut for a moment again as you steeled yourself against the images wanting to surge forward in your mind’s eye. “Those people—they burned everything to the ground, destroyed the walls to get inside, killed everyone, and took what we had. But they couldn’t stay there. There was nothing left to live in by the time it was over. I don’t think that was their original plan. They didn’t expect a fight. So, instead, they took all the supplies and looked for a new place to take.” “Meridian,” Maggie said, nodding. “Though we’re not sure exactly how much time there was between the two.”

“How’d you survive?” Aaron asked you, amazement on his face mixed with deep empathy.

A far-off look grew in your eyes and they were blurred with tears you had to blink away. “Luck. DJ and I had been out on a hunting trip, pretty far away. It had been his choice to go. Otherwise, we’d probably be dead too. We came back and—Fox Hollow was gone. Everything was gone.” Your voice sounded haunted. There was no other word for it.

“They’re at Meridian now. We just need to take it back,” Maggie said. The faces around the room were grim.

Rosita shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “Maggie, this sounds like a suicide mission.”

You were leaned back against one of the pillars now, your jaw set. “Anyone have a better idea?” The silence was deafening. “We aren’t asking anyone to go who doesn’t want to. Aaron’s right too, Alexandria does need people here to help it hang on until we can get back. But this plan is the way we make it until we can rebuild. It’s the way we make it past next week.” You stood up with your feet firmly planted. “So, I’m in.”

Daryl was on his feet next. “Me too. Anybody else?” There were more than you expected. Only Carol, Rosita, and Aaron wanted to stay behind. And you couldn’t blame them.

After the meeting disbanded, you walked back to Daryl’s. He stayed close beside you and you could feel that something had shifted and a weight was on his shoulders again that hadn’t been there since you’d kissed him the night before. Maggie and Carol walked alongside you both. You discussed preparations for leaving. Carol said she’d look after the kids while you were away, and for that you were grateful. You knew she’d protect them with her life if it came to it.

Daryl looked particularly grim after Maggie and Carol had departed and the two of you were alone again in the kitchen of his little townhouse. That weight you’d noticed was practically dragging him toward the floor now. The two of you were standing in the kitchen alone. The kids had taken Dog outside for some exercise, giving the two of you a few moments to talk. Daryl was leaned back against the counter with his blue eyes fixed on you across the small space.

“I can see you thinking it,” you said.

“Hmm?” he hummed.

“You want to tell me to stay here, just like you did with the supply run to the base.”

Daryl ducked his head and gulped at the tightness in his throat. Of course he wanted you to stay here. He knew for a fact that with this mission they were heading straight back into a potential shitstorm of danger and death. He’d seen how these people operated in the woods that day when you’d found each other again. “I just keep thinkin’ that if somethin’ goes wrong, which seems goddamn likely, the kids could lose a lot of us. DJ could lose both of us.” The uneasiness on his face was plain. It was bordering on fear.

You sighed and he watched your lips tighten into a thin line for a brief moment. “If something goes wrong, in all likelihood most of our people back here are gonna starve. Including our kids, our son.” Daryl felt a jolt like electricity at those words. Our son. “I’m not staying behind. I’m going along to do every damn thing I can to make sure that doesn’t happen. You can’t ask me to sit on the sidelines of this one.” You crossed the kitchen to him and your hands landed on his sides lightly. “And the last thing I want right now is to be separated from you.” Your eyes searched his face. “After everything we’ve been through, I’m not doing that by choice, not for something like this. We do this together. I don’t want to lose you again.”

Daryl felt a burst of heat in the center of his chest that slowly crept upwards toward his face. “I dun want that either. I just got ya back. But—” he chewed on his bottom lip for a moment. “—I want ya safe too. Or at least safer. And these assholes—sounds like they kill first and ask questions later.”

You nodded gravely, but your expression was strong and determined. “They do. That’s why I’m going.”

Daryl sighed. You were resolved. He nodded. “Alright. If tha’s the way it is, tha’s the way it is.”

You clasped his face with one hand, your thumb moving lightly over his jawline, and one corner of your mouth twitched up slightly. The effect was a sad sort of smile. “It’s gonna be okay.” It came out in a whisper.

Daryl gulped and you felt his hand alight on your hip. The other landed gently on the graceful curve of your neck. His eyes flitted over your face for a moment and then he leaned in and found his lips softly with yours. You could somehow feel his anxiety and his yearning in that kiss… You gave way beneath him softly, melting under his touch, and Daryl only wanted to keep you safe all the more desperately. The thought of this disappearing from him after having just found it again was almost unbearable, almost paralyzing.

You pulled back and just then there was a stampede of feet in through the front door, accompanied by the tapping of Dog’s paws. You smiled at him now, and it warmed him, lessened the sick feeling that had remained in the pit of his stomach despite your reassurances that everything would be fine.

Daryl straightened up as RJ burst in through the kitchen doorway and ran to hug Daryl around the middle. You grinned at the scene and Daryl committed that to memory—you in that little kitchen of his, grinning. DJ came in next and gave you and Daryl a smile that reminded you of Daryl’s; no teeth showing, but that curve of the corners of his mouth.

“Well, I gotta go check out that truck Aaron mentioned. We can at least take a vehicle part of the way,” he drawled. You nodded.

“Alright. I’ll make myself useful around here,” you said.

“Can I come?” DJ asked, directing the question at Daryl.

“Ya wanna? Would be good to have some help. Ya know yer way ‘round a tool box or an engine?” he drawled, a small smile on his face at DJ’s desire to spend time with him again.

DJ shrugged. “Not really. But I’m a fast learner. Can I, Mom?” he asked, glancing at you eagerly.

You nodded. “Yeah. Of course,” you said, smiling. You kissed the top of his head. “Just stick with Daryl, okay?” DJ nodded.

The two of them set out down the sidewalk, side by side, and you watched them from the window until they disappeared around the corner. Jude and RJ were coloring in the living room with Dog lying beside them on the floor. You meandered down to the spare room and picked through you and DJ’s meager belongings. You really needed to track down some more clothes for the two of you.

“I’m gonna pop next door to see Carol, okay?” you said to Judith and RJ. “You guys good to hang here for a bit?” Judith nodded. “Okay. Don’t go off anywhere without telling someone, alright?” She nodded again and then went back to her drawing.

Just a block or so away, Daryl and DJ arrived at Aaron’s where the truck in question was sitting half in the garage. “Alrigh’,” Daryl drawled, walking around and opening the driver’s side door to pop the hood latch. There was a metallic clunk noise and he returned to stand in front of the grill beside DJ. “Well, open it up,” Daryl said, a half-smile on his face. Daylight’s burnin.”

DJ gripped the hood and lifted, but it caught on the latch still, as Daryl knew it would. His tongue poked out the corner of his mouth as he tried again to the same effect. “There’s still a latch hooked,” Daryl explained, feeling with his fingers under the edge and finding the flat metal piece. “Right here. Ya gotta push it to the side and then lift. Feel it?”

DJ felt for the latch, followed Daryl’s instructions, and the hood rose up and stayed propped open. Daryl pulled over a 5 gallon bucket and DJ stepped onto it so he could better look into the engine compartment. “Yer mom never taught ya ‘bout hood latches? About engines?”

DJ shook his head. “We haven’t used cars or trucks much,” he explained. “Seems like we walk everywhere. Or—” he broke off suddenly, looking sad.

“Hmm?” Daryl asked, leaning on one elbow on the edge of the engine compartment.

“Well, we—we had horses… for a while. At home,” he explained.

“Mmm,” Daryl hummed. “‘M sorry. We used to have some here. They’re gone now too.” DJ nodded. “Yer mom never was great with mechanical stuff anyway,” Daryl went on, a fond smile on his face. “I taught her enough to get by when I could but—I don’t think she liked it much,” he said with a laugh. “But somebody should teach ya. I’ve got an important job for ya,” he said, changing the subject. “Hold this flashlight for me so I can see in this damn thing.” Daryl clicked on a sturdy silver flashlight and handed it to DJ. “Point it right here. See this? This is where the oil dipstick is. That’s how we check the oil level. Too much or not enough oil can be big trouble,” Daryl explained, pulling the dipstick free, wiping it on a spare rag, and replacing and withdrawing it again. “All good,” he said, leaning over to show DJ. “See right there? Level’s gotta be between those lines.”

This is how the two of them went along, side by side, for quite a while. Daryl explained everything as he worked and had DJ actually replace a bad hose with him. They checked the tire pressure and tread, the radiator, heater, bypass hoses, the belts… And all the while they talked comfortably a lot of things—about fishing and hunting, about holidays, about things DJ and you had seen and done, about Daryl living in the woods, about Rick and Michonne and others who were gone one way or another. There was a comfortable lull for a while as Daryl spliced together some wiring to fix what looked like mouse damage. Then DJ broke it again.

“What should I call you?” he asked suddenly.

Daryl looked over at him and then withdrew his hands from his work, facing DJ and leaning one arm on the edge of the engine compartment again. He sighed and nervously chewed on his bottom lip, considering the pensive look on his son’s face. He scruffed a hand back through his hair. “Well—‘m yer father. Ain’t nothin’ gonna change that. But—‘dad’ is somethin’ else. Tha’s somethin’ tha’s earned. Ya can call me Daryl if ya want, and if someday ‘Dad’ seems right to ya, if I earn it, well…” he nodded, “then alright. But tha’s all up to you about if and when.”

DJ seemed contemplative still about Daryl’s answer and only nodded, before resuming his role as Daryl’s assistant.

It was moving toward evening when there were footsteps around the side of the truck and you appeared with a sparkling light in your eyes and a happy smile on your lips at the two of them side by side with dirty hands. “Am I interrupting?” you asked.

“Nah,” Daryl said, wiping his hands on a rag. “Just finished up actually. Couldn’ta done it without DJ. Got a future mechanic here, I think,” Daryl said, taking the flashlight back from him.

“Oh, good to know,” you said, watching your son leap happily down from his perch on the bucket. “That’s certainly something I always need help with,” you laughed. You brushed DJ’s hair back from his face fondly. “Wait outside for me for a sec, bud?” DJ nodded and stepped around the truck to stand on the driveway.

“Ya alrigh’?” Daryl drawled, still wiping the dirt and grease from his hands.

You nodded. “Yeah. Carol helped me track down some more clothes for me and DJ. We hardly have anything after being on the road again.” Daryl nodded. “Anyway, I’m gonna take DJ for a quick walk before it gets dark, talk to him about the run and what’s coming next. See you back at the house in a bit?” Daryl nodded, his eyes drinking in the sight of you. He still worried sometimes that you were a mirage.

“Yeah,” he drawled. His voice was soft and sweet, like warm maple syrup. “See ya in a few.” Walking the perimeter of Alexandria beside DJ, you were battling your own nerves. Leaving him again so soon was going to be hard, especially with such a dangerous and grim task ahead. He peppered you with questions about the supply run to the base, about the swarm of the dead soldiers, about why you didn’t get the guns and ammo too, “could we get a tank?!”, about how your arm got hurt, about Daryl and his crossbow and his two knives that helped keep you and Carol alive… and still he was bursting with more questions. You answered them all patiently. He seemed to have run out finally and you walked silently beside each other for a few minutes, your arm draped around his shoulders. until he was looking up at you. You smiled down at him and brushed aside the curtain of his long wavy hair that was hanging in his eyes. Just like his dad, you thought tenderly.

“You’re leaving again,” he said seriously.

You drew in a long, deep breath slowly, held it, and then let it out. Your eyes were fixed toward the gap in the wall. It was shrinking slowly with the repair efforts, but not fast enough. The outside world was visible, peeking through, and if you all weren’t careful it would start to leak in. You nodded in response to DJ’s question. “Yes.”

“It’s to go after them?” he asked.

You looked down at him and met his worried eyes. “Not exactly. It’s more about food and supplies than it is about them,” you explained.

“But you’re going to kill them. Right? They killed almost all of us. And then they hurt Aunt Maggie and her family.” You thought you could hear a tremble of anger in his voice and your brow furrowed. You bent down in front of him, your hands on his shoulders.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen. It’s likely that you’re right, that it will come to killing. But you need to remember that isn’t always the way things need to go. It’s not always the way things should go. But we do what we need to, to survive.”

He nodded and you brushed the back of your fingers over his cheek and gave him a fond look before straightening up.

You walked for another minute before DJ spoke up again. “Is Dad going?” he asked.

You snapped over to look at him so fast you thought you might have tweaked something in your neck. You felt tears in your eyes and a lump in your throat. That was the first time he’d referred to Daryl as just “Dad.” You tried to pull it together and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, he’s going with.”

DJ nodded and looked thoughtful. “It’ll be okay then,” he said. “I don’t think he’d ever let anything happen to you.”

That was too much for you to handle and a few tears escaped out onto your cheeks as you grabbed DJ in a tight hug and kissed the top of his head as you straightened back up, hurriedly swiping the tearstains from your cheeks. “Yeah. It’s gonna be fine,” you agreed. “Love you.”

DJ looked up at you again. “Love you too, Mom.”

That night, you and Daryl settled all the kids down together in the spare room and then collapsed back on the couch, finally alone again. Daryl’s blue eyes were studying the shape of you next to him. You leaned back more heavily into the cushions and sighed, finally meeting his gaze. “Do you think they bought it?” you asked, leaned up on your elbow on the back of the couch, your chin propped on the heel of your palm.

“What, that I’m sleepin’ on the couch?” he laughed. He paused for a moment. “Prob’ly. ‘Cept Jude. That girl sees every damn thing.” You laughed softly but then your mind turned to the next day’s journey.

“Are we insane? For trying this?” you asked him.

Daryl nodded. “Prob’ly.” There was extra grit and gravel in his voice now. “But ain’t no way ‘round it.”

You rubbed at your tired eyes. “Yeah… I just wish there was a way to know that we’re doing the right thing beforewe do it.” You laughed wryly. “Isn’t that the truth about all of life?” You glanced over at Daryl beside you.

“Some things it’s easy to know are right,” he drawled quietly, even a little shyly again, ducking your gaze for a moment. You had the distinct impression he was talking about you. “Hey—” Daryl’s hand found you gently and his fingers laced in between yours. He tilted his head toward his bedroom. “C’mon. Let’s steal a little time for ourselves.”

A smile came back to your lips. You nodded. “Please. That sounds perfect.”

You fell into bed together again, pulling away the layers of the day’s clothes until both of you were just skin. Your worries drifted to the floor with the folds of cotton and denim for a time. Daryl seemed softer than the night before when the two of you had collided, but it was no less intense or fiery. Instead, it burned slowly but heated you to your core in an instant. The roughness of his palms over your skin as he ran them from the flare of your rib cage down the indent of your waist and then to the prominence of your hip was intoxicating. You were biting down on your lip to stop yourself from waking the entire house as he kissed nearly every part of you. Your heart pounded as the muscles in his back, taught and strong, rippled and tensed under your fingertips. His name escaping you in that breathy gasp had him nearly over the edge in an instant and when the two of you finally hit your peak together it was pure, extended bliss which didn’t lessen when you collapsed down beside each other, spent and bleary with happiness and afterglow and waiting sleep.

Daryl had tossed one of his t-shirts to you when your flushed and overheated skin cooled and left you chilled and you tugged it on and settled down against him, his arm tightening around you securely. You looked into one another’s eyes, still smiling coyly occasionally, eyes heavy with impending sleep. Daryl bent toward you and kissed your forehead and another wave of happiness and pure contentment that had been entirely absent for a decade crashed over you again.

He chewed on his bottom lip nervously. “I meant what I said yesterday, ya know.”

“Hmm?”

“I never stopped lovin’ you. And I never stopped lookin’.” He still sounded vaguely like he was trying to convince you. You looked into his bright blue eyes again and nodded, pressing a hand to the center of his strong chest, knowing that your initials were there in black and white, in ink, beneath your fingers.

“I know. I love you too,” you whispered back, and then you tucked in against him and closed your eyes and sleep took both of you gently and quickly.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Your breath rose in a cloud as you stepped down off the last step into the subway terminal. It was eerily quiet compared to the thunder of the storm overhead. The hair on the back of your neck stood on end as you moved farther inside. Daryl was beside you and you exchanged a glance with him. He could read the unease on your face. Before long, Negan was speaking what you were feeling.

“Not to sound like a broken record, but I think we ought to take a breath, hunker down, wait for the storm to pass,” he said. His tall frame was stiff and rigid.

“Ain’t what I asked,” Daryl drawled. “I asked which way. Tha’s the only damn reason yer here. So which way is it?”

Maggie chewed him out next when he didn’t answer fast enough. “You don’t wanna go in there?” she asked, referring to the gaping darkness ahead in the tunnel.

“No. I don’t,” Negan admitted.

“I don’t give a shit,” she snapped at him. “Which way?”

This time he answered, and the group started to move off. Daryl whistled to Dog and glanced over at you, some concern growing on his face at your expression. “You good?”

You stared again at the long, dark tunnel ahead. You let out a wry laugh. “Not to sound like an 80’s cop movie but—I’ve got a bad feeling about this. Maybe Negan’s right.”

He was standing close enough to hear that. “God Bless America,” he chuckled to himself. “Somebody else with a fuckin’ lick of sense. Daryl—you can’t ignore that,” he insisted, “considering the source. You and I both know you’ll put plenty of weight on that opinion. Me not wanting to go in there? It ain’t ‘cuz I’m a chicken. It’s because if we go in there and bad shit goes down—walkers, tunnel collapse, flooding—we are up shit’s creek without a paddle. This is a genuinely bad idea,” Negan said. “And you want to just walk the Love of your life, with a capital fucking L, right in there? Really?”

“Negan, shut the fuck up and stop fucking listenin’ in on my goddamn conversation. And don’t. talk. about her,” Daryl growled. Negan threw his hands up and backed off, pacing a tight circle up on the platform. Daryl gulped and sighed, rubbing a hand over his forehead. He caught your eyes again. “We ain’t got time to burn here. Shit is desperate back home and we dun even know how long this whole thing is gonna take, not to mention gettin’ the supplies back if we even manage to get 'em. I think we gotta go ahead and work with what we can,” he drawled.

You eyed the tunnel one more time but the sick feeling in your stomach remained the same. Your hand strayed to the hilt of your knife and you loosened it in your sheath. “Alright,” you conceded.

The last few members of the party who had remained on the platform hopped down, following Maggie. Several of them purposely bumped into Negan on their way. You were left standing there a few feet from him and happened to catch his eyes once the two of you were alone.

“You see that shit?” he asked with a dry laugh and a roll of his eyes.

“What, you think you don’t deserve it?” you said coldly. “Look, just because you and I happen to fucking agree about the creepy tunnel—that doesn’t make us friends.” You left him standing there and accepted Daryl’s waiting hand to help you down off the platform onto the tracks and into the dark.

[bubblesandgutz]

Every Record I Own - Day 783: Neutral Milk Hotel In the Aeroplane Over the Sea

I'm not sure when In the Aeroplane Over the Sea became so divisive. It's a love it or hate it record. Even its early advocates have taken to a certain reevaluation of Neutral Milk Hotel, with the asinine "they're not even the best Elephant 6 band" hot take becoming fairly standard music snob commentary. If Olivia Tremor Control or Apples in Stereo had blown up instead, I'm sure they'd face the same criticism. Honestly, I'm not even sure when this album became popular enough for it to have an intense cult following and adamant detractors, but for me, this album was a complete game-changer when it came out in 1998.

I had a college radio show when the station manager added Aeroplane to the "indie" rotation. DJs were required to play a certain number of songs from the three-dozen-or-so albums in the rotation of their assigned genre, and being that I was officially an "indie" DJ, I had to break up my playlists of hardcore records with the occasional "college rock" tune from the station manager's weekly picks.

I abhorred the majority of stuff in the indie rotation, but I didn't have much of a choice in the matter. I remember begrudgingly picking out the Neutral Milk Hotel CD simply because it was on Merge Records, which meant it might at least sound like Superchunk, and playing it on air without previously hearing a note of their music. I don't even remember which song I played, but I was so blown away that I smuggled the CD out of the DJ booth and took it home.

Stealing from the radio station was bad business, though I knew more than a few fellow DJs who supplemented their personal music libraries with stolen promo albums. I mean, who was going to miss a Big Boys LP from the station's neglected vinyl closet? But to steal a CD that was currently in rotation? That was risky.

I couldn't help it. I was so fascinated by what I'd heard that I was willing to risk getting busted. I took the CD home and immediately put it on the stereo, sat on the couch, and listened to the whole album with my undivided attention.

It was 1998 and I was a twenty-year-old hardcore kid. I had begun to feel a little bored and underwhelmed by the lack of sonic diversity in the punk world and had begun listening to a lot of folk and country music when I got tired of listening to music where I was getting yelled at. So when the opening chords of acoustic guitar kicked off "King of Carrot Flowers Pt. 1," my ears perked up. Jeff Mangum's voice---double tracked and compressed to a rich, almost-in-the-red saturation---comes in with his cryptic lyrics describing a tumultuous childhood and adolescent sexual awakening. An accordion and bass creep into the mix as the song builds to the climax, only for the band to switch gears into "King of Carrot Flowers Pt. 2 and 3," where Mangum repeatedly professes his love for Jesus Christ against a backdrop of fuzz bass, dissonant singing saw, and tape manipulations. The song eventually explodes into a blown-out punk-tinged pop tune where everything---acoustic guitar included---is cranked to the point of distortion.

Every song seemed to offer something new: the horns and woeful singing saw of the title track, the austere performance and stream-of-consciousness lyrics on "Two Headed Boy," the mournful Eastern European-influenced instrumentation of "The Fool"... it all flowed together like some strange collage of yesteryear sounds, but pushed to the limits of a DIY recording studio's compressors. And in the center of it all was Jeff Mangum---an untrained singer with crystal-clear diction weaving Burroughs-esque vignettes that were purportedly inspired by Anne Frank. There were references to the loss of childhood innocence, war, death, sex, communism, and religion, but all described in a detached and surrealist manner. The music exuded joy, but the lyrics seemed more like excerpts from The Naked Lunch.

I can't understate how much this recalibrated my brain back in 1998. The year prior, all my friends had fallen head over heels in love with OK Computer. While I have since grown to appreciate Radiohead, I did not share my peers' initial enthusiasm. As far as I was concerned, any major label band with a big recording budget and a hot producer was capable of making a lush record with all kinds of cool sounds and wild guitar effects. But Aeroplane? This sounded like a bunch of down-and-out weirdo college kids with their grandparents' instruments making magic in some basement recording studio.

I loved the music, but I was particularly drawn to Mangum's lyrics. I gravitated towards punk as a teenager because the music actually seemed to mean something. Minor Threat sang about being an outsider. Dead Kennedys sang about the cultural climate of the late '70s / early '80s. Minutemen sang about history and how the present reflected the past. Even my love for country and folk music centered on protest songs, outlaws, and earnest heartbreak. But I was reaching the point where it felt like all the bands I loved were singing about the same thing. Rebellion felt codified. You had to sing about certain things or the zines wouldn't like you. And along came Neutral Milk Hotel where the lyrics were somehow borderline non-sensical while simultaneously seeming far more earnest and honest than anything else I was listening to at the time.

Aeroplane didn't leave my 5-CD disc player for the remainder of the '90s. And I am still upset that I was just a few months shy of turning 21 when they opened for Fuck at a bar in Seattle that summer. Within a year Botch would write and record "C. Thomas Howell as the Soul Man," a song that's essentially about feeling that the earnestness and honesty of hardcore was being replaced by lyrical formulas. In hindsight, I can't help but think that Neutral Milk Hotel had showed me that you didn't have to sing about animal rights or hating cops to be profound or passionate. And I also can't help but wonder if the fuzz bass breakdown in that song was a subconscious homage to the bass tone on Aeroplane.

Twenty-five years later, I can't say that I listen to Aeroplane all that much anymore. At some point I learned every lyric and chord progression on the album. I'd heard bands like Bright Eyes and The Decemberists borrow heavily from Neutral Milk Hotel without actually capturing any of their wonder, mystery, or charm. Long story short, I got too familiar with the record and bummed on the imitators they spawned. So maybe in some sense I do understand why people are so critical of the album. But listening to it this morning, I still think it's a fantastic record and I can't deny how it completely altered my listening habits. Aeroplane is one of those records that impacted me in a way only a handful of other albums have in my lifetime. And for that reason, I'll always be a fan.

[pjisskullourful]

🆄🆂🅴 🅼🅴

🚬Ethan × reader

part 6/??? [parts1-5]

NSFW🚨 literally unsafe nastiness ° Ethan Torchio/female reader insert ✨ cameo by: Damiano David ° a vacation brings out a very different side of your boyfriend [based july 2023] wordcount:::  9,318 ° 🎧USE ME playlist to add to your reading experience ° as superbly prompted by @vittoriaisfuckingpathetic: a little scene where ethan and reader are hanging out [...] it's warm out and ethan isn't wearing a shirt. and the reader is just. is absolutely [...] thirsting over ethan's arms and chest (ethan is well aware of this, because he's purposefully making her hot and bothered all day) 💋 & commissioned by the legit badass that is my girl kat (@mistressofthecats-blog) 💋 [commissions are back! secure the 7th spot in my cue here!!]

° [ITA:] facile: simple - cazzo: fuck

You had no idea what time it was when you rolled over in the hotel bed, hesitantly cracking your eyes open. Your boyfriend was gone from the bed and the world of Ibiza was drenched in sunshine.

You were surprised that you didn’t feel worse - you had been expecting the wrath of all of those martinis and cocktails you’d consumed at the nightclub. But you were pleased to find yourself nausea-free. You were feeling fatigued and a little fuzzy in your head, but with enough coffee you would be able to make something of this day, the first day of your vacation.

You eased yourself out of the bed and started to look for Ethan. It didn’t take long for you to locate him, he hadn’t left the suite, taking up a seat on the attached balcony. Wrapped in a white bathrobe, he was taking his time to smoke a cigarette. You collected a pair of sunglasses from your handbag before even considering joining him.

He turned his head at the sound of the door sliding open and acknowledged you with a smile. “Hey, party girl.” You approached where he was seated. “I thought I would have to inject the espresso directly into your veins to get you out of bed.”

“What can I say? I like to be unpredictable.” You said as you draped your arms around him from where you stood beside his chair. You slipped your hands over the soft material covering his chest as you leaned down. You kissed him on top of the head and made to take the cigarette from between his fingers. He took evasive movements, preventing your theft. “How long have you been awake?”

“A bit under an hour.” He said after a quick look at the screen of his mobile phone.

“Have you eaten yet?”

“Nope, should I get the room service menu?”

“Please.” You responded, prompting him to get up.

While he was inside, you took up the seat on the opposite side of the table. You plucked a cigarette out of the open packet and lit up. Then you tried to restore some order to your hair, using your fingers to comb through the strands that had been left loose all night. You were well on your way to feeling like a human again, dodging that zombie-state a hangover could bring out.

Picking from the menu, you each ordered breakfast. There was something in the way that he was looking at you that gave you pause. It was making you feel like you were being assessed, with him looking at you more seriously than the situation called for.

“You’re in a better mood this morning, hm?” He said, giving you a small insight into what he was thinking.

But it only served to confuse you. You cocked your head to one side as you had a drag of your cigarette. What was he comparing this mood to?

Because you had only been having fun on this trip so far. Last night had been an absolute blast, it had felt like the perfect way to kick off this vacation - to you, at least. Everyone had been all smiles as you toasted in the craziness of the active club.

Not all of your memories were crystal clear, but everything that you could recall was positive. You remembered Thomas’ dance moves dominating the dancefloor. You could remember Victoria invading the DJ booth, energetically bouncing as she played as many Lady Gaga tracks as you asked for.

You had been feeling victorious over how things were blooming between her and Tatianna. You and Ethan had included your friend on the group trip to fix her up with Victoria. And you had been thrilled to see sparks flying between the two women at the airport. Things had progressed and you had seen them sharing more than one kiss before the end of the night at the club. You had been immediately happy for them, and proud of your matchmaking skills, so that couldn’t be the source of the bad mood he was alluding to.

You had video evidence of him enjoying himself, without a single thing to worry him. At one point, you had spotted him and Damiano showing off some Vogue-style hand and arm choreography for one another. This unserious dance-off had been too cute for you to resist capturing it with your phone’s camera. The old friends had reminded you of two kids on the playground, laughing and play-swatting at each other.

Your picture of the night was one of no issues for either of you. You couldn’t understand where his perspective had come from at all.

“It’s good, I’m glad you’re leaving the brat in last night.” He said.

You leaned forward. “Brat?”

“Oh, come on, you remember. You weren’t that drunk when we got back here.” He said.

Before he could add any more details to this surprising account, he was interrupted by a knock on the door. He left his cigarette burning in the ashtray as he got up to answer it.

He had succeeded in shocking you. The end of the night had been so insignificant to you that you were genuinely stunned over him remembering it at all. There had been making out in the taxi and you had been feeling that it would lead to more when you got to the privacy of your room.

But that had gotten derailed once you were settling into your room. You had realised just how tired you were, how much the travel and clubbing had drained you. You knew that you wouldn’t be able to give him your best and you had told him as much, with more than a few sassy comments colouring your delivery. He hadn’t helped you out of your dress and when you had fallen asleep, it had been on your own side of the bed.

You were staring at him, slack-jawed as he wheeled the food cart out to the balcony. You didn’t pay any attention to the dishes and drinks.

“I can’t believe you just called me a brat.” You said.

He shrugged as he set your waffles down in front of you. “Well, don’t act like one and I won’t call you one. Facile.”

He returned to his seat, his bowl of yogurt and cup of coffee set up before him. He appeared entirely unbothered by the conversation. You could tell that he thought he had made a winning argument and this incensed you. You picked up a piece of strawberry from your plate and tossed it across the table, aiming for his face.

Instead it bounced off of his shoulder and he looked at you, eyebrows raised. “You didn’t want that one?”

“I am not a brat.” You said, determined to defend yourself.

“I don’t know how you think I should be reacting here, baby.” He said, folding his arms on the table instead of picking up the spoon. He was staring you down, potentially just as determined as you. “We got back to the room, I told you how ready I was to fool around, you turned around to get the lube, then all of a sudden you were having a hissy fit.

“You threw things- they’re still on the ground, by the way. You swore at everything.” He said and you clenched your jaw as you listened to his vivid recollection of what had been a non-event to you. “And what was it about? Face cream, fucking face cream. ‘Cause you forgot to pack the whole set, so you only have nine, instead of ten.

“And when I offered to help you look, you told me to go and fuck myself with something hard and sandpaper-y.” He said.

You had to bow your head in an effort to conceal the chuckles you felt rising up. You were a drama queen when drunk, but you were also really funny. You had a way with words, clearly having enough impact to stick in his mind.

“‘Cause that was the only way I was gonna get a fuck ‘cause you didn’t feel like it anymore, and-... are you- are you literally laughing right now?”

You raised your head, no longer trying to hide it. “It’s funny. It’s a funny thing to say, it’s poetic in its way. Obviously I wasn’t being serious. Aren’t you used to my bullshit by now? I blow off steam and I blow it off in a big, crazy, loud, swearing, stupid way. But then once it’s out of my system, it’s all over, all gone, the demon is exorcised and I move on. In the case of last night, I moved straight into sleep.”

“Yeah, without even cuddling me.” He pointed out.

“You could have spooned me if you were so desperate for cuddles.”

He picked up his coffee, but held off from having a sip. “Did you even put the fucking cream on your face before you went to sleep?”

This set you off laughing again, louder than before as you slumped back in your chair. “No. I was too out of it. I didn’t even take my makeup off, I just passed out.”

He shook his head, but you could see the beginnings of a smile on his face. “You’re hopeless. You know that, right? Absolutely hopeless.”

“Yeah, I’m an idiot.”

Now he was smirking. “And a brat.”

You picked up more pieces of strawberry to throw at him. “Stop calling me that. I had one bad moment. And I’m sorry, I’m sorry that it ruined your night, or whatever. But I’m only human, Ethan. I was fucking exhausted, drunk as Hell and frustrated, so I snapped.” You found a blueberry amongst the fruit that had come with your breakfast and you chucked this at him, managing to hit his forehead. “Are you gonna punish me all day over this?”

“Not at all. If you’re happy today, then so am I.” He said, the picture of serenity.

“Great. ‘Cause I wanna get back to enjoying my vacation.” You said. You picked up your fork and stabbed into some of the berries that remained on your plate. “I’ll clean up the mess that I made on my own and then we can just move on.”

“Sounds perfect to me.” He said. “I’m amazed that you’ve gone this long without checking your phone.” You looked up from your waffles, wondering what he was trying to start now. “I was thinking that you would be dying for updates from Tati.”

You shrugged as you chewed your food. “I’ll check it later.”

“Really? Wow. Last night all that you cared about was playing Cupid.” He said.

You showed him a wide smile. “‘Cause I’m so good at it.”

You were ready to get back to focusing on the positives. And it seemed that he was, too. Because there was no more name-calling and the two of you started to discuss how you would fit in with the group’s plan for the day. The rest of the fruit went into your mouth, instead of going hurtling through the air.

*** *** ***

You were by the side of the pool, set up on one of the lounge chairs. You had just finished up your conversation with Tatianna, getting all of the details (and then some) of how things had progressed with Victoria.

You had barely had enough time to take a sip of your iced coffee before you were being approached again. This time it was your boyfriend. Ethan had ditched his bathrobe, walking around in just his speedo. This was enough to get your eyes off of your friend and her new fling.

He came over to stand at your side. “You’re not busy, are you baby?”

A sarcastic quip popped into your head immediately, you didn’t even have to go looking for it. But you thought better of it before opening your mouth. Judging by everything he had said this morning, he’d had more than his fair share of your sarcasm and sassy comments.

So you pushed the thought away, showing him a smile instead. “I’ve got an abundance of time for you.”

“Cool. Can you help me apply this?” He asked, holding up a bottle of sunblock for you to see. “I know you hate the greasy feeling on your hands, but…”

“You need my help?” You asked as you registered this unexpected request.

“Please.” He said. “I did my face, but- it’s such a sunny day and there aren’t as many shade cloths around the pool as I thought there would be. I really don’t wanna get a burn.”

“Of course, sit down then.”

He handed the product over and sat down towards the end of the lounge, his back to you. You brushed the few strands of hair that had escaped his bun off the back of his neck and got to work applying the sunscreen.

You worked it across his muscular shoulders, then moved down his back. Concentrating on the task at hand, your eyes looked over the area your fingers were exploring, leading you to notice the complete lack of scratches on his back. It was a shame, like you were looking at an unfinished painting. Maybe if you’d had the stamina for sex last night, there could be fresh claw marks all over him.

You cleared your throat and tried to give yourself a distraction before your thoughts could go too far down the wrong paths. “Do you want the tea?”

He glanced over his shoulder at you. “I thought you got a coffee.”

“No, the tea on Tati.”

“Oh, right. Yeah.”

“They did.” You said of your friends’ sexual rendezvous.

“Nice. Good for them.” He said, making you laugh.

“Turn around.” You instructed.

He readjusted, now facing you for further application. “But seriously, good for Vic, I think they’re gonna be good for each other. Obviously Tati is great, a million times better than the last chick Vic was with.” He rolled his eyes just at the thought. “The definition of stuck up.”

You couldn’t help yourself, you were trying to behave - but rubbing the sunscreen into his pectorals presented too many temptations. You didn’t even check to see if anyone was looking, you just grabbed his nipples. Between each thumb and forefinger, you pinched them, a smile forming on your lips.

He gave a full-body flinch, leaning back and pushing you away at the same time. He furrowed his brow as you started to giggle. “What was that for?”

You pulled your sunglasses down a little, meeting his eye. “You don’t have to go in the pool if you wanna get wet.”

“Baby…” He said quietly. “If you’re feeling that way- you should have said something before we left the room.”

“I didn’t want to be antisocial. It’s a group trip, after all.”

“So, what’s different now?” He asked, his eyes darting around to make sure no one was about to catch you in this conversation.

“How about we get social with just each other?”

He got to his feet, putting some distance between you. “I should have known this would happen when I asked you for help.”

“Oh, are you disappointed in me now? Was this not your intention all along?” You asked. You were surprised when he didn’t immediately deny it, even more surprised when you saw the hints of a smile tugging at the side of his mouth. “Ethan?”

“No.” He said, but there was something off about his tone of voice. “As if.” You narrowed your eyes as you watched him, trying to figure out what he was playing at. “Don’t worry about the rest, really. I’ll do the rest of my tummy and my legs, since you can’t keep your hands to yourself.”

You watched his progress, all the while attempting to determine what he was up to. You were certain that something was afoot, but you were on the outside. What was he trying to accomplish, was there a point to getting you worked up over his body?

He finished applying the sunscreen to his exposed skin. “I would ask you to check if I missed any spots, but you would probably enjoy that an inappropriate amount.” He discarded the bottle onto the lounge next to yours, where his robe was already lying.

“You’ve sure got me all figured out, babe.” You said, unable to keep yourself from getting a little sarcastic with your delivery.

He blew you a kiss before turning away. Seconds later he was slipping into the crystal clear water. You pushed your sunglasses back up the bridge of your nose and had a sip of your iced coffee, biting down on the straw a little.

You reclined back in the chair, but you weren’t feeling very relaxed. You rubbed your hands on your legs, trying to get rid of the unpleasant residue left by the sunscreen.

All the while, you were watching Ethan. Thanks to the side of the pool, you couldn’t see much of him, just his head that bobbed with the flow of the water. He appeared innocent enough as he chatted with Thomas and his girlfriend.

Sooner or later, you would get to the bottom of whatever your boyfriend was plotting.

You moved your attention to your phone, replying to a message from Nico. You looked through the group chat that was made up of your co-workers, but you didn’t find anything worth responding to. Then you started scrolling through social media.

When that got old, you pulled a magazine out of your handbag. You flicked it open, but you felt no motivation to start reading. Nothing in Kerrang could drag your attention away from Ethan.

For whatever reason, your boyfriend wanted you to take notice of him and you couldn’t help doing just that.

One thing that you took notice of was that he seemed to be spending only a small amount of time actually in the pool. While still talking to Thomas and his girlfriend, Ethan had boosted himself out, sitting on the lip of the pool. He had looked back, checking up on you.

When the couple split off, he had seemed like he was going to swim properly, pushing off from the wall, but only after glancing at you again. But he only swam to the other side of the pool, using his arms to lift himself out. He seemed to move in slow-motion. This action wasn’t complete without another glance in your direction.

Then he was just wandering around the area that surrounded the pool, stopping to talk to so many of the friends that had come to Ibiza - never leaving your line of sight. He was doing a lot of unnecessary stretching. You would read one sentence of your article, then look up to spot him flexing one muscle or another.

Was he on the verge of running a marathon, what was the point of him getting so limber? And why couldn’t you stop watching?

He was clearly teasing you. Was he getting you wound up simply because he could? Was it all just for his amusement? You hadn’t planned on spending the day getting hot and bothered over him, but he knew that it didn’t take much to get you into such a headspace. You only hoped that his plan included some kind of pay-off for you.

Or else you would have to come up with a plan of your own.

Also in your line of sight were Thomas and his girlfriend, treading water very close together. They were sharing a lot of kisses and even when you weren’t watching, you could hear her flirtatious laughter as they got lost in their own world.

Elsewhere, Tatianna and Victoria were looking very cosy together. In the shade, they were sharing a love seat. Tatianna had her head rested in Victoria’s lap as Victoria slowly ran her fingers through her new companion’s hair. They were doing a lot of laughing as well.

At present, you weren’t feeling much happiness towards your friend and the connection she was exploring. Instead you were hung up on your own jealousy. You were bitter over not having your person to be similarly horny with - Hell, you would have settled for just being cute with Ethan at this point.

You were glad for the distraction of Damiano headed your way. He was very late in joining the group and he didn’t instantly strive to be the centre of attention, just quietly taking up the seat beside yours.

“How are you the last one to arrive when you literally had no booze last night?” You asked teasingly.

He smiled sheepishly. “I got lost in the gift shop.”

“Oh, cazzo…”

“No, no, it’s totally not that bad. There’s still gifts left in that shop, on God.” He said. “I had to go in to get my grandma a souvenir magnet.”

“Okay, that’s adorable.”

As you were trying to give him all of your attention, Ethan wandered back into your field of vision. You didn’t even have to turn your head, still facing Damiano even though you couldn’t help watching Ethan. He seemed to have found the perfect spot and he sat down, ass on the tiles as he dangled his legs into the water. He leaned back, bracing himself with his hands on the ground behind him as the sun’s rays beat down on his bare chest.

“Yeah, it’s like a little family tradition. If you go somewhere new, you’ve gotta buy a magnet with the name of the place on it for grandma.” Damiano was saying and you dragged your eyes back over to him. “Because she had this huge collection from all the places she’s been, back when she was travelling all the time, before grandpa got sick.”

“You are so damn wholesome.” You said.

“And I got some bits and pieces for other people, as well.” He said. “And then I had to find the right place for dinner tonight.”

He explained to you that this was no easy feat - not with a group of this size. He had to find something within a reasonable distance of the hotel, someplace that could meet everyone’s dietary requirements. The restaurant’s menu needed to have at least one dish that could meet the standards of the group’s fussiest eater, which was Victoria.

On his mobile phone, he showed you the menu. But these dishes held very little significance for you. This was the same case with the words he was saying.

You knew that it was rude. You were also aware that a large quantity of women would do literally anything to get to share a conversation with him.

But you couldn’t help yourself, your eyes were back on your boyfriend. Your mind was wandering, looking at all that was so purposefully on display was inspiring memories to pop into your head. They were rushing at you, and soon you were imagining what it would be like to go further than you had in those past experiences. These thoughts had a temperature to them and your mouth rested open.

Damiano cleared his throat. “Look, I’m trying to not take this personally, ‘cause I get that you’re probably hungover. But are you listening to a single word that I’m saying?”

“What? Yeah, of course I am. The restaurant looks great.” You tried your best to recover, training your eyes back on him. “So, did you have fun last night?”

It didn’t take long for your attention to be captured by Ethan once again. Movement caught your eye, alerting you to the fact that he was retying his hair.

Something so mundane, you had seen him complete this action thousands of times. But right now it was utterly fascinating to you, too fascinating for you to do anything but watch.

With his arms raised and his hands in motion, you tracked how all of those toned muscles worked together. You noticed every single flex and got hungry for him to let you feel his power. Having him use his strength against you felt like the most worthwhile way to be spending your time currently.

Behind your sunglasses, your eyes moved down to his nipples and you thought about pinching them again. But you wouldn’t be giggling this time around. This time would be for real, you wanted to know how he would respond. You wondered how the expression on his face would alter.

It was the thought about what he would do to you in retaliation that got your heart beating faster.

And this was probably exactly what he wanted, which was a frustrating outcome. As he finished fixing the hair elastic into place around his bun, he looked directly at you.

And there was a smile on his face - it was small, but it was there, a departure from his typical ‘resting business-meeting face’ that earned him such teasing. With no one else closeby, it was quite clear what he was smiling about. He was smug, most likely congratulating himself on getting you all hot and bothered.

“Ethan should be in jail.” You blurted it out carelessly.

You saw Damiano visibly flinch at your exaggerated statement. “Fucking Hell. What kind of feral shit were you two freaks doing to each other last night?”

You shook your head, dismissing the misinterpretation. “No, nothing like that. But just look at him- don’t you agree that he’s a menace to society?”

“I mean, I guess.” Damiano didn’t sound very convinced. He didn’t see it the same as you, he hadn’t been victim to Ethan’s obnoxious flaunting before.

It was a while later when Ethan approached you, putting an end to your solitude. Your eyes moved up-and-down his body, because your mind was still full of depraved thoughts.

“Hey creep, is your magazine a good read?” He asked.

You readjusted in your chair and took a cursory glance at the pages you were currently open to. “Uh-huh, very interesting.”

“Awesome.” He sat down on the chair next to yours. “I’m guessing that Damiano told you about the dinner plans for tonight.” You nodded your head and plucked up your handbag, shoving your mobile phone inside. “And he told you what time the reservation is for…” You returned your magazine to the bag, then turned yourself around to place your feet on the ground. “So you’ll know when you have to be ready.”

You stood up. “Yeah, Damiano made sure I knew all that. But it doesn’t matter.”

“It doesn’t?” He repeated, his brow furrowed as you took your first step. “What does that mean?”

“I’m not going to dinner.” You said, starting to walk in the direction of the pool area’s exit.

He quickly followed along. “How come? Is something wrong?”

“No, not at all.” You said, pleased with yourself in this moment. “I’m just gonna be too busy to go.”

“Busy, with what exactly?”

You made sure there was a wall between you and everyone at the pool before you stopped walking. “Fucking my boyfriend.”

He stood opposite you, rolling his eyes as he scoffed. “Fucking… because that’s your…”

While he was still talking, you put your hands to the hem of your blouse. You lifted the material and his words were halted by you exposing your bare breasts to him. Instantly his wide eyes were taking in this sight and you were feeling like you had beat him - whatever game he had been playing was now over.

You let the shirt fall back down so that you could grab his hand with yours, he was still silent, but you weren’t.

“Let’s go.” You said, beginning to lead him back up to your suite.

*** *** ***

You acted upon your eagerness before you were back to the privacy of your suite. These impulses had been gaining power for hours and you were done with holding back.

Once you were alone in the elevator, you launched yourself at him. As you shared breathless kisses, your hands had grabbed for his hair, your fingers seeking to get rid of the hair-tie. Once it was free, you wrapped the long hair around your fingers and he was holding you to his body.

You barely heard the elevator’s automated ding to signal that you had reached your level. He grabbed your hand and led the way to your door. You were grinning as you kept up with him, ecstatic that the two of you were finally on the same page.

But when the door of your suite was shut, his demeanour changed. You moved to stand in front of him (intending to secure more kisses) and found a different look on his face. His eyes were no longer wide and now he wore an expression of annoyance - not unlike how he had looked when ranting at you at the start of the day. It shifted the atmosphere and you were stopped in your tracks from getting another kiss.

“Get on your knees.” He said it without any kindness, far too firm for it to be mistaken as a request.

But you were too surprised to be able to do anything at first, so startled that you could have laughed. “What are-?”

Your words were halted when he placed both of his hands on your shoulders. He didn’t have to tell you what he was talking about when he could so easily just show you. He pushed down and you went with this movement, bending your knees. You lowered yourself to the carpeted floor, tilting your head back so that you could keep your eyes on his serious face.

“I guess you don’t feel like saying please.” You said as his stony exterior stirred something inside of you.

“I guess I don’t feel like dealing with anymore fuckin’ attitude out of you.” He said, prompting you to open your mouth because you were ready with your reply. You were ready to defend yourself, and argue if you had to. You were going to remind him of the outcome of this morning’s discussion - that he was going to be happy if you were. And you hadn’t done anything worthy of being called a brat today.

But before you could breathe a single syllable, he was snapping his fingers, surprising you again. Your mouth hung open as you stared at him.

“I’m gonna teach you a lesson about how sometimes you go too far with your attitude and it’s not the kind of thing that I’m just gonna let fly.” He said.

You found that any argumentative things to say were floating out of your head. Instead you were taking in his position of authority. You weren’t accustomed to carrying yourself like a submissive, but the way he was acting impressed upon you that it would be correct to behave as such.

Everything that you had anticipated for this afternoon was swiftly flying out the window.

But you had no motivation to resist this altered dynamic. You didn’t dislike how small you felt in this moment, positioned at his feet. You were granted a view of his body that differed from the typical, and the curves of his muscles were more defined - inviting you to stare more. It prompted more admiration, encouraging you to feel small in comparison. You registered the fact that he had all of the power, and you had none.

“Are you ready to learn your lesson?” He asked of you.

There was no fight or sass in you, all that you wanted to do was consent. “Yes.”

“Then you can stand up.”

You were already feeling a little shaky as you got to your feet, ready to be blown away by him.

His hands returned to your body, grabbing you by the biceps. You saw his jaw clench, that displeased look remaining. He pushed you backwards and you were trying to not lose your balance as he started walking forward, moving you in his momentum. Until your back reached the wall. You were pressed into the wall with him leaning in, filling your personal space. And you welcomed it, licking your lips as you tilted your head in anticipation of getting a kiss.

Before this could happen, you were being spun around. He moved too quickly for you to keep up and before you knew what was going on, your front was being shoved to the wall. Your heart was pounding, this was more than you could have imagined and your thighs were twitching.

“You want me to kiss you, is that what you want, baby?” He asked, and there was something about hearing him taunt that made you want to melt. “Because if that’s how you want it, just say. And we can kiss and have all of the eye-contact and I’ll give you everything you want.” Another shove got your face closer to the wall. “But I could have sworn that you said you were ready to learn your lesson.”

“I am ready.” You said.

“You’re definitely not ready.”

Before you could even start asserting your willingness to do all of this, he interrupted your thoughts by grabbing for the fly of your denim shorts. He unbuttoned them, swiftly pulling the zipper down. With them loosened he could tug them down, yanking until they were tumbling, falling down to the ground.

Then his hands went to your panties and he grabbed two fistfuls of the thin material (which was no longer dry). You expected these to be pulled down too. Instead he moved his fists in opposite directions, stretching the material to its absolute limit. Until you were hearing the lingerie rip, falling limp onto your skin. You gasped and it felt like there was fire coursing through your veins.

Slap. The sound of his open hand striking your bare butt seemed to echo in the otherwise-silent room.

You felt the stinging follow-up to this strike so much deeper than the surface. It rattled through you, the powerful action demanding a powerful response. Your heart skipped over a few beats as you settled into the fact that you had no idea what was going to happen next.

You were yanked away from the wall, feeling as weightless as a ragdoll when he swept you up into his arms. With the side of your body pressed to him, your feet were taken from the ground.

“You can say stop at any time, okay?” He told you, the harsh edge taken out of his tone briefly.

“Okay.” You repeated without any real intention of interrupting him with that mood-killer of a word.

Aside from showing you this small mercy, he wasn’t done with laying down the law and you soon found yourself being tossed onto the unmade bed. You landed on your chest and didn’t instantly roll over to look at him, or seek a more comfortable position. Instead, with your thoughts racing, you waited for his guidance on what came next.

This came in the form of him climbing onto the bed alongside you. He wrapped a hand around the back of your neck, applying enough pressure to keep you from raising your head.

You could get yourself free if you truly wanted to. It wouldn’t take all of your strength and you could execute it in about three moves.

But that didn’t interest you at all. You were savouring how it felt to be at his mercy. It was so arousing to know how little he was holding back. You wanted to know all of the desires that had prompted this change in him, you wanted to experience them all.

His free hand was used to smack one of your ass cheeks. Your breath got caught in your throat because this was the hardest he had ever spanked you. Immediately it set the tone, another sign of how he wasn’t holding back. This wasn’t going to be like any past spankings, it wasn’t part of a seduction or to tease you into getting hornier. There was no playfulness in how he wanted to make his point.

Your other cheek was treated to its own equally hard smack. You squeezed your eyes shut and your heart was beating harder with each passing second.

You were still feeling the effects of the second spank when the third landed upon your butt. Blood was rushing to this area, his hands leaving behind pink marks, which were only going to get brighter.

You couldn’t hold back the moan that came in response to the fourth spank. The intensity was so much, building up a pressure that dominated your thoughts, demanding that nothing else be thought of.

He took his hand off of your neck, using it to grab a section of your hair. He tugged, prompting you to lift your head from the sheets. “Did you say something, babe?”

“Nope.” You quickly responded.

“Good, because I-” He struck your ass. “-am not-” You experienced another slap. “-done.”

He released your hair and shoved you back down to the mattress. You arched your back, showing your willingness by presenting your butt to him. You were soon feeling the seventh spank. You audibly gasped, your toes curling a little.

“I’m a fan of these noises you’re making.” He said, during the fragile calm between spanks. “You wanna make some more for me?”

You turned your head, resting your cheek on the covers. “Yes.”

From your current viewpoint you couldn’t look at him properly. Mostly you could see the arm that was keeping you held down, the muscles tensed as he exerted his control. You wondered if he was erect by now, or was it just you getting all worked up?

You smiled when you felt the next spank, letting out a loud whimper as more of your body responded to this. You licked your lips, you had decided that the way your skin was stinging felt good. You were starting to hope for him to hit you hard enough to make you feel it each time you sat down tomorrow.

Your pussy was throbbing as he landed a sharp slap onto each cheek. You whined loudly for him. Feeling the absence of any shame, you were prepared to get even louder for him. He had moved you into the mindset that you would do whatever it took.

“Does that hurt?” He asked as you were waiting for the next spank to come.

“I can take it.” You said, giving your sore ass a quick wiggle.

“Still so confident.”

You continued to wait for the thrill of another spank, unwilling to catch your breath. Instead you felt him moving around the bed and his hand left the back of your neck.

From his new position, he reached a hand under your body. You hadn’t been given any kind of guidance to move, so you were still as you observed what he was doing. The palm of his hand faced upwards as he slid his hand down to your crotch.

Your heart leapt when his finger moved between your labia majora, making contact with your clitoral hood. You were already so turned on that you were instantly sensitive to the touch.

“Oh.” He said and you were biting into your bottom lip. “I can’t even pretend to be surprised that you’re this wet.”

You hummed in response, delighted by the way he had started to rub you. You shut your eyes and sank into this treatment, not bothering to question his motives.

Remaining face-down, you felt the potential of melting at his touch. He worked his finger in little circles over the hood with the perfect amount of pressure. You whimpered again, hoping this was to his liking as you indulged in this wonderful stimulation.

But before he could take you up to that next, blissful level he was taking his hand away. You froze, too caught off-guard to know what to do.

Your mouth hung open as you waited, absolutely yearning for more. He didn’t provide it, pulling his hand out from underneath you, then you were feeling the mattress shift as he got up. You were too stunned to give him any attitude about this, silently turning your head so you could watch him. He was calmly walking across the floor, going over to shut the curtains (which you hadn’t noticed until this moment).

The suite got darker, but you could still see him as he slid his swimwear off. You saw how his erect cock pointed out directly in front of him, now that it was freed. You couldn’t help squirming a little as he came back over to the mattress.

Instead of progressing and climbing on top of you, he resumed his spot sitting next to you. You grabbed for handfuls of the bedsheets as you anticipated what he would do next. You knew exactly what you wanted (the picture was so clear in your head), but you also knew that you were in no position to lay out any kind of demands of him.

He slid his hand under your body, touching your clitoris again. It pulsed against his finger as he gave you more of that Heavenly pressure. There was so much heat pooling in your cunt, which started to spread as he stroked the moist bud up-and-down. It didn’t take long for you to start making more noises for him.

These excited moans and whines were muffled when his available hand went to the back of your head, turning it, then pushing your face back into the mattress. You didn’t object, you just concentrated on how good his consistent stroking felt.

You quivered against the mattress as you giddily explored more of this pleasure. You weren’t thinking about your sore ass as your fists shook around the sheets, getting taken away from every other part of your experience.

This moment seemed to stretch out and you weren’t sure how much time was passing as he went on manipulating your clitoral hood. Even though you were hungering for more than this, you kept your greediness to yourself. Because the way that his finger worked over the slicked peak did feel really good - it was turning your legs to jelly and it was better than getting nothing from him. It was best to not push your luck with him right now.

It felt like he was settling into a promising rhythm when he stopped, pulling away a second time. Your fists continued to shake as you tried to catch your breath.

You gave your feet a little kick as the frustration rushed into you. You had to fight for it to not get the better of you, because all that you wanted to do was swear (maybe raise your voice a little). But that was the opposite of the behaviour he was currently seeking, and you had dedicated yourself to doing whatever it took. And what it took was putting up with this teasing.

He got up for a second time, but you didn’t watch what he was doing beyond the bed. You heard movements but you were concentrating on taking deep breaths, trying to find a way to tap back into your patience.

You caught your first whiff of cigarette smoke, then a second later, the mattress was shifting under his weight when he returned.

He started to slide his hand under you, resuming that spot at your pussy. Your breath came in quicker at the feel of his touch on your clitoral hood.

“Do you like that?” He asked, working his finger in circles. “Is this the attention you’ve been dying for all day?”

You squirmed with a whimper. “Fuck yes.”

You sank into the pleasure even more, obsessed with every masterful swirl of his finger. Your eyes were shut as you stopped caring about trying to predict when he would stop next, just focused on the heat that this treatment sent pumping through your body. You fell for the teasing, fell for it unashamedly.

The pressure from his finger increased, sparking more excitement from you. You put the energy buzzing inside of you to use, starting to work your hips in the interest of more pressure. You rocked your hips, trying to match his tempo as the possibility of him stopping floated out of your head. Instead you were letting the sensations build, anticipating how they could ruin you.

The smell of cigarette smoke was coming in stronger as all of your senses feasted on this moment. He was still stroking you to perfection and you made sure to keep moaning for him.

You weren’t close - more so on the path to getting close. But the disappointment was present all the same when he stopped yet again. You lamented the loss of this momentum with a whine.

“Don’t worry babe, I am going to fuck you.” He said, drawing his hand out from underneath you. “But first you’ve gotta clean your horny mess off of my hand.”

“Okay.” You said, turning your head.

He shoved his hand into your face and obediently you opened your mouth - even though there was something else you would rather be sucking on. He placed two of his fingers between your lips and you began rubbing your tongue against them, collecting the accumulated moisture. You felt somewhat dazed as you looked at him, it seemed like it had been hours since you had properly looked at him. As he exhaled a cloud of smoke, you thought that he appeared slightly bored.

He pulled his hand back, a string of saliva falling from your lip. In a flash, he was moving again. He sprang up onto his knees and moved into the space behind you. Before you had the time to glance back at him, he was prompting movement from you as well, his hands going to your hips. He pulled them up and you walked your knees forward, lifting your ass into the air.

Your head remained resting on the mattress while you braced yourself with your knees set up beneath you. He got himself lined up with you, his knees close to yours. He stayed upright as he got even closer. You arched your back, incredibly keen for him to finally do away with the dreadful distance between the two of you.

“Put your hands behind your back.” He ordered.

There were tremors in your hands as you lifted them up, crossing one wrist over the other at the small of your back. Instantly he grabbed for this, wrapping his fingers around your wrists. It was just another way for him to exert his power over you, and you gave into it, you were more than ready to lose control.

He began to lean into you, his hips meeting your butt before you felt his dick at your pussy. Instead of delving inside of you, he pushed forward, his shaft rubbing against your labia majora. His dick was smeared with your wetness as he stroked himself back-and-forth in this area. You bit the inside of your cheek, fighting back the urge to complain over how you definitely didn’t need any further warming up.

You were still waiting for penetration when he startled you with a spank to your raised ass. You could have screamed.

But you were swiftly forgetting about the pain, distracted by the sensation of him starting to bury himself inside of your pussy. Your gut tightened and for a second you forgot to breathe. He was seemingly done with making you wait, pushing his hips forward to fill as much of you as quickly as he could. You welcomed it, feeling a glimmer of relief.

You were given a moment to adjust as he leisurely took a drag from his cigarette. You heard him exhale deeply while your own breathing remained shallow.

Your body was already overly-sensitive when he started to work his hips at a quick pace. It was instantly exciting, at the threshold of what you could take. It was an effort for you to get yourself meeting his thrusts, trying to catch up with him.

You greeted almost every powerful thrust with a whimper. These vocalisations got louder when he pulled your face out of the covers, grabbing and tugging on your hair. Your desperate noises accompanied the consistent slapping of skin-on-skin as his pacing persisted, unfailing.

Your hands uselessly curled into fists and you wished you had the sheets to grip onto. At the same time, your walls were clenching around him, greedy in a way that you had no power over. You could feel yourself getting closer.

His hand pulled at your hair, bringing your head further back. Then he released the strands and repositioned to grab your throat, holding it securely. A new wave of pleasure rushed you as your ability to breathe became a little restricted.

And he wasn’t letting go, his fingers holding steady as you felt the slight pressure on your windpipe. Your mouth opened as he kept pounding you, so intent on destroying you. Your tongue slithered down, seeking out where his thumb was resting against your face.

“Oh, my God…” You rasped before you wrapped your lips around the tip of his thumb.

When his next jerk into you brought him deeper, colliding with your sweet spot, your eyes rolled up. Your breathing halted and your long-bullied composure was facing a very powerful threat. It wanted to shatter, poised to burst inside of you as the pleasure kept rising.

But would he allow that? You weren’t confident that you had enough strength left to do what it took to be obedient.

“I need to…” Your words came out in a choked sob.

His fingers loosened on your neck. “Sorry, you need to breathe?”

“No.” You said and if your hands were free, you would have pushed him back to choking you. “Need to come, fuckin’ Hell, baby.”

His concern disappeared just as fast as it had presented itself and he was back to working you over at full-force. His hand resumed its squeeze on your neck, the other still locked around your wrists. “Should I let you? Hm, do I need to let you come?”

“Oh, Ethan…” You whimpered pathetically. “Please.”

“Yes, beg me just like that.”

“Please. Pleasepleaseplease, please, please.” You rushed to say them all, stopping when you ran out of breath. You inhaled and pleaded more, your voice wanting to fail you as your effort went to keeping your body in motion with his. “Please Ethan…”

You were quaking as your body lingered at that intimidating edge. You squirmed into his jackhammering, the pleasure and the tension were an incomprehensible force inside of you. You sputtered out more pleas, existing only in this state of desperation.

It was past the point of too much and you screamed when he let go of your wrists so that he could slap you on the ass. Your body seized, unable to figure out what to do with the surprise.

“Come then, you brat.” He instructed.

You let the relief burst into you, thoroughly falling apart at the next collision of his tip at your sweet spot. Spasming, your pussy gushed out all of the pent-up desire and you forgot yourself.

The overdue climax made you go limp, your body slightly lowering towards the mattress. You cupped your burning hot face in your hands and your mind felt like a plate of scrambled eggs. You fell out of his reckless pacing.

You flinched, screaming a little when his hand fell to your ass for more spanking. In a whole new way, you were ridiculously weak compared to him.

“Don’t quit on me yet.” He growled.

You had absolutely no response to this as you were close to being overwhelmed by the friction created by his continuous fucking. You felt like you were going to melt into a puddle, so far past the point of coming as his dick throbbed inside of you.

But your state wasn’t the priority. Your job was to make it easy for him to use you. Your knees were wobbly but you kept them planted on the bed, conscious of keeping your butt raised for him. You wanted to crumple, but you didn’t, you put your effort into receiving each of his impassioned pumps.

Until it was enough, until the squeezing of your pussy milked his release out of him. Moving unpredictably, he started to unload into you, moaning as he filled your cunt with a new heat.

His hands relaxed on you as he lazily grinded into you to finish himself off. You bowed your head down to the bed, shutting your eyes as you were ready to drift off to the sound of him gasping your name, amongst other curse words.

You were grateful to finally get to lie down, moving your head to the pillow as you started to catch your breath. The scent of his cigarette swarmed into your nostrils.

He landed onto the mattress next to you, the harshness taken out of his words when he spoke. “You okay, creep?”

You opened your eyes a little, finding him lying on his back beside you. You smiled, still feeling the giddy affects of your afterglow. “I’m great. I’d be even better with a cigarette in hand, but I’ll survive.”

He lifted himself up so that he could kiss you before he got out of the bed. You rolled onto your side, planning to fall asleep before bothering to get up like him. Your eyes drifted over to the drawn curtains and you noticed that there wasn’t the same glare of sunlight pushing in around the edges, apparently the sun had begun to set.

He wandered back into your line of sight, an unlit cigarette and one of your lighters in hand. He joined you on the bed, handing these items to you.

You placed the fresh cigarette between your lips, surveying him as you ignited the lighter. “So you got all of that out of your system, eh?”

He smiled. “To tell the truth, I wasn’t particularly mad about the whole thing. Your tantrum was annoying, a really shitty note to end the night on- but mostly, I wanted to get back at you for all of that attitude.”

You raised your head from the pillow, you were feeling some of your energy come back. “You weren’t that mad, are you seri-...? I’d hate to get you actually mad, then you might reach all new levels of obnoxiousness.”

He feigned surprise, wide-eyed. “Obnoxious? I would never.”

You rolled your eyes, taking a drag of your cigarette. “Oh yes you would. You were being the most teasing son of a bitch that’s ever existed. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much unnecessary titty-flexing in my whole life.”

“Well you’re the idiot that fell for the world’s most teasing son of a bitch.” He said, leaning in to place a kiss on your lips.

“Yep, that was a big-time idiot move.” You said in response to the smug look on his face.

He ran his fingers tenderly up-and-down the side of your neck. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“Nope, not at all. I really liked it.”

“Yeah, I could feel how much you were enjoying that part.” He said, securing another kiss. “Maybe I should do that more…” He kissed you deeply and you draped an arm around his neck as your body naturally turned towards his.

You lightly sucked on his lower lip before allowing the kiss to be broken. “When are you gonna ask if my ass is hurting?”

“Right now.” He said, trailing his fingertips down your spine. “Did I hurt that fine ass?”

“A little, you gonna kiss it better?” You teased.

“Dream on, creep.” He said. “I love you.”

You tightened your arm around him, wanting him closer. “I love you too.” You hesitated before kissing him, your mouths inches apart. “Obnoxious son of a bitch.”

“Yeah, but I’m your obnoxious son of a bitch.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[mischas]

What would've happened if season 2 started differently if DJ never existed? Let's face it the guy was a snooze.

Oh yes, the DJ storyline sucks. And for many reasons. The actors don't have chemistry, he looks so much older than even Ben (which he was!), the borderline racist tone, the extremely classist tone, and the character switch they do on Marissa to make her reduce him to "the yard guy" which we know s1 Marissa would never dream of doing. She dated Ryan for a year without giving a toss about what his upbringing means to be enmeshed with hers. So that's all so frustrating.

Something this show did was resolve their storylines very poorly. They move at breakneck speed and it caught up with them in s2 when they had to scramble. And I understand to a degree, this is network tv in the 2000s, but we know now that JS and co needed to be reigned the fuck in even in s1 so they wouldn't exhaust every decent storyline in two episodes.

So anyway, in order for RM to ever have a chance of a real reunion, I'd have Marissa and Ryan really get into what tore them apart pre-Theresa. Which was Oliver. And the show demonized Marissa for it entirely which was insane (and led to character backlash online which JS was voraciously paying attention to). Marissa plays catch-up to Ryan's moral superiority from then on and it's infuriating. So I'd fix that shit. Remind the audience that Ryan broke her trust first with breaking into her locker and stealing her letter. Something that other teen shows, particular supernatural ones, do is ponder the idea of your beloved's agency vs their safety. The show says that Ryan is in the right for breaking into her locker because he's right that Oliver is evil/crazy/in love with Marissa/possibly putting her in danger. And it's an interesting moral dilemma if done well, but they don't do shit with it in the aftermath. Marissa has to painfully grovel at Ryan's feet all because she didn't believe him when he had zero evidence. Ridiculous.

And because this is tv let's distill this into a scene at the end of 202 when Ryan gets to go home feeling morally superior about breaking things off with Marissa before they've even started again because he's so concerned with her white lie. Like whatever dude. Like he hasn't been sleeping in Theresa's bed all summer. I imagine Marissa coming to him after the carnival and pushing him about these things. Also, it drives me crazy that 127 even has Ryan not fully gleeful about Theresa possibly getting an abortion. Sandy is the only one making sense there. Ryan is 17 years old yet they want him to have the countenance of someone who's 35. That's a problem throughout the show, really. I'm not saying he'd be skipping around Newport joyful but it is so insane to play it out like this is a wanted pregnancy for anyone involved. And for it to happen to the one Latinx character they've semi-centered (in southern California!) is... something. As well as the DV storyline and the original Eddie storyline they really wanted to go with. God, a mess. Anyway. When Ryan is informed of the supposed miscarriage in 201, we're supposed to believe Ryan doesn't even see Theresa for... months? She tells him not to come back but come on this is Ryan! Ryan who we're told is noble and good. He wouldn't go back to Chino to even hug her??? It's so crystal clear that the show wants to quickly move past this bomb they created in s1. Anyway, I'd want Ryan and Marissa to have a real conversation about how that summer impacted their lives and that'd inevitably bring up how he slept with Theresa two whole seconds after the Oliver melodrama blew up. Which could bring about a frank discussion about how they both use sex as a distraction rather than an act of love.

And let's say they talk about these things and still decide they shouldn't be together, I think that'd bring with it a good tension. Keep them in one another's lives because they're in the same circles. Maybe even do similar storylines with other love interests, but sprinkle in some pining and close encounters that give audiences what they really want. It's partly what SS get in s2, though the show drops the ball on why they're not together since they don't flesh out Seth's reasons for leaving beyond 201 and they don't come close to touching Summer's abandonment issues like they should.

If it's clear that I've thought about this before, you'd be right. Lol. I think s2 has an ok framework but could've been tweaked even a little bit to be really, really good.

[sarvodayaholiday]

Unveiling Bali's Must-Visit Gems: A Traveler's Guide

Embark on your journey hassle-free! For any travel-related query, trust Sarvodaya Holiday. Visit us at www.sarvodayaholiday.com today!

Bali, often hailed as the "Island of the Gods," is a mesmerizing destination that offers a blend of natural beauty, cultural richness, and adventure. With its lush landscapes, stunning beaches, vibrant culture, and warm hospitality, Bali beckons travelers from across the globe. If you're planning a trip to this Indonesian paradise, here's a curated list of top places to explore to make your Bali experience truly unforgettable.

1. Ubud: Cultural Heart of Bali

Nestled amidst terraced rice paddies and lush rainforests, Ubud is a haven for art lovers, nature enthusiasts, and spiritual seekers. Explore the town's vibrant markets, where you can shop for handmade crafts, textiles, and intricate artwork. Visit the Sacred Monkey Forest Sanctuary to observe playful macaques in their natural habitat, or rejuvenate your body and soul with a yoga class or traditional Balinese spa treatment.

2. Uluwatu Temple: Cliffside Serenity

Perched on the edge of dramatic cliffs overlooking the Indian Ocean, Uluwatu Temple is renowned for its breathtaking sunset views and traditional Kecak dance performances. Explore the temple grounds, adorned with intricate stone carvings, and witness the mesmerizing sight of the sun sinking below the horizon as the waves crash against the cliffs below.

3. Tanah Lot: Iconic Sea Temple

A symbol of Bali's spiritual heritage, Tanah Lot is a majestic sea temple perched atop a rocky outcrop, surrounded by the shimmering waters of the Indian Ocean. Marvel at the temple's timeless beauty as it appears to float on the horizon, especially during sunset when the sky is painted in hues of orange and gold. Don't forget to explore the surrounding area, where you'll find local markets and cultural performances.

4. Tegallalang Rice Terraces: Picturesque Landscapes

Located just north of Ubud, the Tegallalang Rice Terraces offer a glimpse into Bali's agrarian heritage with their intricate system of stepped rice paddies. Trek through the emerald-green fields, marveling at the stunning vistas and interacting with local farmers as they tend to their crops. Capture postcard-perfect photos of this iconic landscape, which has graced the covers of countless travel magazines.

5. Nusa Penida: Untouched Paradise

Escape the crowds and discover the raw beauty of Nusa Penida, a rugged island located southeast of Bali. With its pristine beaches, towering cliffs, and crystal-clear waters teeming with marine life, Nusa Penida is a paradise for snorkelers, divers, and nature lovers. Visit iconic landmarks such as Kelingking Beach and Angel's Billabong, or embark on a scenic hike to explore hidden waterfalls and secluded coves.

6. Seminyak: Chic Beachside Retreat

Indulge in luxury and relaxation in Seminyak, Bali's upscale beach resort town known for its trendy beach clubs, boutique shops, and world-class dining scene. Lounge on pristine beaches, sip cocktails at stylish beachfront bars, or pamper yourself with a spa day at one of the many luxury resorts. After dark, experience Seminyak's vibrant nightlife with live music, DJ sets, and beach bonfires under the stars.

7. Mount Batur: Sunrise Trekking Adventure

For outdoor enthusiasts seeking adventure, a sunrise trek to the summit of Mount Batur is a must-do experience. Begin your journey in the early hours of the morning, hiking through the darkness to reach the summit in time for sunrise. As the first light of dawn illuminates the landscape, revel in panoramic views of the surrounding mountains, crater lakes, and distant islands—a truly awe-inspiring moment that will stay with you forever.

Conclusion

From the verdant rice terraces of Ubud to the pristine beaches of Nusa Penida, Bali offers a diverse array of experiences that cater to every traveler's preferences. Whether you're seeking cultural immersion, outdoor adventure, or simply relaxation in a tropical paradise, Bali's top attractions promise an unforgettable journey filled with beauty, adventure, and enchantment. So pack your bags, embark on a Bali trip, and prepare to be enchanted by the magic of this timeless island destination.

[purplelito1996]

Botany Boyz - Thought Of Many Wayz Slowed & Chopped By Dj Crystal Clear

[moochilatv]

The Death Beats and Charley Young presents: Energy

Drumwave Mix

It's a original combination between 80's vibe mix with new electronic style.

The Death Beats join forces with acclaimed Synthwave artists Cassetter and Color Theory, alongside singer / songwriter Charley Young, to lay down a chaotic and dystopian fusion of Darksynth, Jungle, and Techno, set to a foundation of UK DnB.

Unearthly synth tones forge an immersive musical landscape, building towards a crescendo of driving rhythms, hefty bass lines, and rhythmic arpeggios as the track switches effortlessly between genres and styles.

Color Theory’s unsettling harmonies parallel a barrage of hostile vocal hooks from Charley Young, adding an antagonistic dimension as their performances cut through the powerful instrumentation, further fueling the chaos and disorder.

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BIO:

Bass Music producer Gary J Robinson lays down an intense mix of Drum & Bass, Dubstep, Future Bass, House and Synthwave as he slips between his studios in the UK and Mexico. Best described as an unstable cocktail of dark cinematic grandeur and retro fuelled synth tones, The Death Beats music strikes a balance between ominous atmospherics, sweeping melodies and all out dance-floor chaos.

Emerging from the Drum & Bass scene of the late nineties, Gary started out by collaborating with a number of game changing producers including Drumsound & Simon Bassline Smith, Spirit and Total Science. His early releases went on to gain the support of heavy-weight DJs such as Fabio, Goldie and Grooverider.

The Death Beats sees Gary draw on inspiration from every corner of the Dance Music world in order to create his signature sound. Along the way he’s been lucky enough to collaborate with a host of legendary artists including Crystal Clear, Doctor P, Eric Martin, Yah Kid K and pioneering UK Folk duo Harbottle & Jonas.

Arizona based songwriter Alisse Garn, whose vocal talents under the guise of Little Panda have also played an important role in defining The Death Beats sound. ‘Streets of Rage’, their collaboration with Mexican Drum & Bass producer Isaac Maya was released on Jessica Audiffred’s A-Records label too much acclaim and is generally considered to be the first Synthwave Drum & Bass anthem.

In addition to rocking airwaves and dance floors Gary’s music is regularly featured in film and TV, with credits in movies such as Eliminators, How Bruce Lee Changed The World, Playmobil The Movie, Timefreak, Tracers and Venom – Let There Be Carnage, as well as TV shows including Beauty & The Beast, Chicago Fire, Madame Secretary, Shameless and The Magicians. His portfolio also includes a number of popular reality shows such as Keeping up with the Kardashians, Life of Kylie and Selling Sunset.

The Death Beats continue to lay down a dynamic selection of upfront electronic music in the style of artists including Dimension, Diskord, Nero, Sub Focus and The Prodigy.

[f1-giuki]

Well hello darling 👀

I saw your plea for escape from contract law, so here I come! *falls of the disk-horse like a drunk knight*

Red, White and Orange-Nassau buuuuut… make it switched!

For Want of a Nail: Charles as the prince and Max as the music genius 👀 the scene I shall leave up to you 🫶🌻

Hello darling!! Sorry if it took me a shit ton of time to answer but I’ve been away and I was overwhelmed by the amount of things I had to do sjsjsjs.

Yoongi’s third mixtape just came out, and the amygdala performance inspired me to write this thingy and the amount of lestappen content of both yesterday and this morning made me crazy eheheh, so here it is💖💖

If in Red, White & Orange-Nassau the roles were inverted Charles would be the perfect prince charming, very pretty, very media trained, without a political opinion, the middle man in everything, and Max would be a punk-rock singer, a bit of a mixture between Lewis Capaldi in sense of talent and sense of humour, and Joe Strummer. Max is against monarchies and he hates rich people who don't pay taxes, so Charles is his number one enemy. Charles doesn't have an opinion about Max, he just thinks he's a bit untidy, with his long hair and his vintage leather jacket, and sometimes he talks a lot of shit.

But back to the scene, it's the kiss scene:👀👀

[...]

As the DJ lets the beat drop Charles and Charlotte look at each other and laugh, he kisses her then, holding her waist gently and she cups his face gently with her slender fingers. They both smile in it and something starts gnawing up his stomach, something green and unpleasant. Jealousy. Max realises which feeling it is as he sees his feet carrying him away from the ballroom, wandering and getting lost in the Royal Palace of Monaco.

Charlotte starts laughing as their kiss ends. But she turns serious once she doesn't spot Max anymore in the room. She taps Charles’s shoulder. You can tell him, her glance says. Charles nods and he wiggles out of the crowd, trying to think where Max might have gone. He looks back at Charlotte in the middle of the dancefloor and she rolls her eyes and indicates the left. Charles raises a thumbs up to her and he starts walking towards Max. He knows that there is only one room that Max could have gone to that way. He reaches the top floor and hears the sound of a piano echoing in the empty hall.

Max is playing, beautifully, Clair de Lune by Debussy. The picture is idyllic, the room is dark, the giant crystal chandelier is turned off, but there is a bit of light peeking inside. There is a huge open window on a wall and the sea breeze is moving the soft white curtains. The Moon and the stars are out in the sky. A nice finishing touch if it were a painting. Charles grins and rests with a shoulder leaning on the door post, listening to Max. Maybe this is what being in the painting The Boulevard Montmartre at Night feels like. Charles doesn't say anything for the five minutes of the piece.

"Debussy, huh?" Charles asks.

Max looks at him with a gaze that Charles cannot describe differently from nostalgic. "Yeah, it helps me clear my mind," he answers quietly, blinking a few times to better see in the dark the man in front of him.

"Didn't take you for a classical piano guy, to be honest," Charles says with his nice accent. He seems both amused and endeared. Max wishes he wouldn't have to think about such things.

Max rolls his eyes and he moves a bit to the side on the piano chair, to make space for Charles. The Monegasque sits down and Max starts playing again, Charles can't take his eyes off Max's hands. Max can't stop think about their thighs touching. He clears his throat and looks at Charles. Wrong move. Max coughs a little bit more.

"Debussy is one of my favourite composers. He was an impressionist musician, he's, how can I explain this to you while I'm drunk... Oh! Think about Monet, think about Impression sunrise, the painting, the mellow and blurry and slightly numb feeling you get by looking at it. His music is that way, too. Instead of using the precision and clarity of the classical scales, Debussy preferred the ambiguity and vagary of the pentatonic and whole-tone scales, which is like, complicated shit, I don't have the mental capacity to explain it to you..." Max says, gesticulating like a madman as Charles looks at him with a dopey smile. He should stop, that's what Max is thinking about.

"May I?" Charles asks and Max nods.

The Dutchman watches as Charles puts his hands on the piano. They feel awfully at ease, in a position Max strangely recognise, relaxed and tangerine shaped. "That's C major, everything starts from it," Max says and Charles grins and starts playing a tune that is much too familiar to Max. It's Reverie by Debussy and Max's brain goes haywire. He can't understand anything anymore, Charles is there, next to him, their arms brushing as the Monegasque plays the piano so softly. Max has to focus on the notes to be sure that he isn't dreaming the whole thing.

Max keeps his mouth shut in religious silence. Everything is Charles, his hands, delicate and with a royal ring on them, travelling on the keyboard of the beautiful piano forte. Those are the hands of a pianist, a tormented one, one that Max would like to know, maybe write a song with. Hands he would like to hold and turn warm when they're cold. He doesn't understand what has changed. Confusion is still present in him mind, with a flowery warmth.

When Charles stops playing his eyes are spanking. He lowers his hand and the knuckles brush against the back of Max's hand at their sides. Max looks at Charles’s face in profile, gaze running down his features touched by a ray of moonlight. Max's cheeks feel too, it's something as intoxicating as the liquor he drank, but it's not liquor, it's more dangerous. The Palace is awfully quiet, the party seems like a distant memory, Monaco is not the centre of the world anymore. Max feels silly to admit it, but his world just ended up in that empty room with white clothes over expensive furniture.

Charles keeps looking at him, holding his gaze, softening his smile.

“I really like Debussy too, he's true to his feelings. I am usually numb to most things, but he makes me feel emotions I thought I buried deep somewhere...” he says, his accent peaking out more prominently.

Max nods and looks at their hands, they are next to each other, Charles's pinky on the C major note, Max's pinky on the B right behind it.

"He's not the only one who makes me feel things..." Charles whispers as he moves his finger imperceptibly and Max decides to do something stupid. The angles of his mouth quirk up and he caresses Charles’s finger. A spark.

“I'm going to do something very stupid, is it okay?” Max asks.

"Mhm..." Charles murmurs and he turns his head close to Max's.

Wow, those are a pair of green eyes, like the forests in Belgium.

It is all very anticlimactic. Max's heartbeat feels heavy in his eardrums, but as their lips touch everything stops. The only thing left is the ringing in his ear, but it stops too as Charles’s slender pianist hands adorn his face like a crown jewel. Max feels like the most stupid idiot on Earth. Of course Charles had to be a pianist, a romantic who loves impressionism. If their lips weren't tangling Max would beg him on his knees to play Chopin. He would gladly cry and kiss him some more. Charles moves one of his hands on the juncture of Max's neck and his brain shuts down.

The kiss is like watching the Abduction of Proserpina, with hands gripping the poetic soft flesh, conflicting feelings, standing in astonished awe. Max likes it. So he lets himself taste Charles’s lips, sweeter than honey and intoxicating as red wine. He leans into the kiss and Charles’s mouth opens, welcoming his tongue. It is something so trivial but Max swears he has never experienced such a deed or posed his hands on such a wonderful pair of hips. Charles’s thumb gently stroking his cheek, and that turns too much for Max, he can't hold himself in composure anymore, he moans in Charles’s mouth, with no intention of stopping.

But something happens in Charles’s brain, though, and Max can't feel his hands on him anymore. The Monegasque releases him. He looks Max in the eyes, green and sparkly, with a hint of gold. Max can't find an answer in that brief glimpse he catches, not in his current state. He hears Charles say a quick French curse and, differently from the kiss, Charles runs away quickly, before Max can even steady himself on the piano stool. He rests his head on the piano, a cacophony of notes play as he touches his lips with shaky fingers.

“Shit!”

-

Hope you like this babes!!! Thank you for saving me from fucking contract law i hate that shit💖

[headstrongblake]

❛  you're all mine to use, aren't you?  ❜ / kassy & nick / @thewholecrew

it's relentless. & if he didn't know any better, he'd swear kassy was trying to kill him. and she just might, he thinks as another pictures comes through his phone, grip tightening around the device. nick can do nothing more but shake his head, attempting to force his attention back on the bank manager as they wade through paperwork for the nightclub and warehouses. he releases a controlled breath but god if she keeps this up he doesn't know how he'll manage to wait until the new years eve party tonight to see her. this'll be the last time he mentions to her what a hectic schedule he has for the day.

the day passes painfully slow for nick. he tried throughout the day to shift his focus to his work from kassy. there's a massive event tonight at the nightclub and nick does his best to ensure they're all prepared. more bouncers on for the night. more bartenders and servers & there's even a famous DJ that's flown in from LA though he's pretty sure that connection is due to chase' guilt over the summer and exactly why they haven't seen the musician around who left for a tour. he needs his focus here and not on the way kassy's fingers feel trailing down his chest, or the softness of her skin as his lips graze his favourite spot. he needs to focus on work, but every text that comes through causes him to strain against his jeans. she's fucking gorgeous, can anyone blame him?

by the time he spots both destruction and trouble getting their hand stamp at the door, crystal eyes dart around the room for anyone else octavia could occupy her time with. he has to be alone with kassy. just has to. it's no longer a want or a thought, but an overwhelming painful need to get his hands on kassy. another calculated breath comes forth as the two girls find there way to him but like he has all day, he does his best to stiffle the desire to have kassy. she makes it very clear that she's in control and if he were to do something about it tonight after she's spent all day toying with him, he doesn't know how long she'd continue to relentlessly tease him.

"and now the party can really begin." nick offered a smirk towards the pair of them, his breath hitching in his throat as kassy comes to stand in front of him, with her back pressed against him. thank god for the lighting in this place because even he can't blink away the lust that swirls in his eyes. his hand comes to rest on kassy's waist while octavia chatters on about how incredible the place looks and how much fun they're going to have tonight. but as kassy leans back against him ever so slightly his fingers tighten against kassy's waist, desire rushing through him. octavia glanced around, hopefully looking for grant or anyone else, and nick lowered his head, "you're a devil." he murmured against kassy's ear.

kassy's delicate touch reaches in between them covered by the darkness of the club and nick has no choice but to bite down on his bottom lip as her finger dances dangerously close to his zipper. "yeah...yeah, i'll be around." nick answered octavia, tripping over his words as he did so. teeth clench together as octavia disappeared into the sea of people and before nick has the chance to move his hand from kassy's waist to her wrist, she quickly catches his wrist instead, tugging him along to upstairs. he has to admit, putting in the private rooms upstairs was the best decision yet.

"do you know how much i've needed you all day?" he asked finally once they're alone. but the cheshire cat smile she gives him with a tilt of her head as she nears him tells him she absolutely does. fuck, he's in for a great deal of trouble with this one. it takes all his willpower not to flip them so she's pressed between the wall and himself, leaving bruising kisses along her skin and instead, he patiently threads his fingers into her hair, crystal hues swimming with desire. his lip part to whispers all the things he's thought about all day, but as her lips near his, he quickly chases her kiss. it's too short. too teasing as, "you're all mine to use, aren't you?" vibrates against his lips. he groans to her triumphant smirk, his body tensing as her hand slips into his jeans. "fuck," he breathes out, lashes fluttering as his head tilted against the back wall, "yes." he answered finally, god yes, he's hers to do whatever she wants with. "all yours to use." he repeated her words with a hungry moan.

[lightsounds]

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