#herbie plush

[liquidtwilight]

Herbie has acquired a lil raincoat and cow pajamies

[reanimationstation]

drops these batim MOTW doodles here and scurries away. i don't know if i ever?? mentioned it here??? but anyways im a part of this campaign now :]c and i'm playing my favorite background gent character, Scott

so naturally i decided to doodle everyone after the second session

our keeper is @sbpstudios (playing prophet and thomas as pictured), sammy belongs to @queenofcats17 , plush is lili's, herby is @lairde-lampblack , and joey is @wally-franks-stan

[jellycatsdaily]

Jellycat of the Day | 15th October 2023

↳ Herbie Highland Cow

"Host of the Highland Games!"

[riversiderambling]

my sweet femme got me this sweet guy! he’s called Herbie :^)

herbie highland cow

[pummelingbat]

had to commute to an appointment today, so i took Herbie on his first outing for emotional support ☺️💚 we stopped for lunch & pastries

[thekeymonster]

Herby Bunnies - Botanimal Pet Portrait

Final 2 days to help get the Catterpillar Plush to its goal!

[therhythmafterthesummer]

Herbie (M) ~Bang Chan | 02

Pairing: Mechanic!Chan x F.Reader Themes: Smut | Fluff | Friends to Lovers (kind of) Word Count: ~5k | AO3 Synopsis: As it turned out, your hot mechanic friend also had a crush on you. After rocking your world in his repair shop’s office, you wake up the next day on his bed in his clothes, ready to spend a lazy morning together. [This is a second and final part to Herbie]. Warnings: curvy/chubby reader · pet names · this is like super domestic · graphic depictions of intercourse (smut warnings under the cut).

Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.

Author’s Note: does it count as friends to lovers if they already fucked and were planning to go on a date???? i honestly don’t know lol. but anyway, i felt like writing the morning after the events of Herbie, so here we are ! i think i’ve gotten all the wiggles out with this one, so for now i hope this remains as a two shot~

Smut Warnings: oral [F.Rec] · nipple play · protected penetration (piv) · honestly there’s hardly anything to warn about this is all so soft

Disclaimer: the story represented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

You could feel movement all around, you could hear movement all around. The gentle rustle of fabric, soft tapping sounds on the tiles, the flow of water… You weren’t really sure if you were fully awake and actually noticing these things, or if you were still dreaming. All you knew for sure was that the pillow under your head, the one between your thighs, and the duvet over your frame were incredibly soft and comfortable.

After a long while, you felt movement again, and then you felt warmth. 

The gentle feeling of plush lips on your forehead brought your senses back to the land of the living, and, in a second, you remembered. Herbie had died on you, Chris had saved you once again, he’d made you feel loved and wanted and cared for in just a few hours, he’d brought you to his place and talked with you until you both were too tired to keep your eyes open, he’d given you one of his t-shirts to wear to bed, and right now, he’d just kissed your forehead and he was pulling away.

“Where you going…?” You mumbled, blindly reaching for him.

Chris chuckled, leaning in and pressing a kiss on your cheek. “I have to walk Wolfgang. I’ll be back in no time, you continue sleeping. Hm?”

A pout made its way onto your lips, but you hummed in agreement anyway, because there was no way you’d stop him from taking Wolfgang on a walk. Wolfgang deserved all the walks.

With one more kiss to your forehead and a ‘be right back, beautiful’, Chris left the room, and after a few minutes you heard the front door open and close behind him. You changed positions, laying on your other side–taking special care to move the pillow between your legs with you, because there was nothing more comfortable when you had big thighs than having a pillow between your legs when you laid on your side.

As you laid there, only half awake, your brain started recounting the events of the night. You’d been at Chris’ place a couple of times throughout the past handful of months, but never this late, and never this long. You’d always been comfortable with him, but yesterday, sitting face to face on his sofa, with Wolfgang napping on the floor right by your feet was just something else.

It was nice to be able to talk so freely with him, even more than you were already doing before. The topics ranged from what you were going to do with Herbie, to commenting on whichever show you both had been watching these days, and even to heartfelt confessions.

‘Always knew I was attracted to you, but I’m gonna be fully honest, the moment you kept talking to me after our two hour video call where all I did was ramble about Pokémon, I knew there was no going back for me’, Chris had told you, and you had simply laughed, telling him how oddly specific that was, to which he also laughed and offered a ‘you’re laughing, but I’ve seriously had people ghost me after something like that. Some just don’t get it!’

You clearly fell asleep again, because the next thing you registered was Chris slinging an arm over your waist and pulling you back to his chest. You vaguely registered the ‘welcome back, baby’ that came out of your mouth, just like you vaguely registered Chris’ lips on your neck, pressing soft kisses on your skin while he mumbled a ‘thank you, pretty’.

You laid there in Chris’ arms for a while, until he started to snore and you started to feel like you really needed to go to the bathroom. Chris was holding on tight to you, so you had a bit of difficulty pulling yourself away from his embrace. He seemed to barely even register it, his snoring remained steady as you walked past a sleeping Wolfgang, out of the room, and into the bathroom.

After relieving yourself and splashing a bit of water on your face, you cringed a bit at the fact that you couldn’t apply your moisturiser, but as you looked at the brand new toothbrush Chris had given you last night, sitting right next to his in a cup on the sink, you figured it was a small price to pay for being here. You looked at yourself in the mirror, admittedly smiling a bit like a fool as you remembered the events of the night again. Sigh, I’m down bad, bad, huh? was all you could think while a small giggle passed your lips.

With a fresh face, an empty bladder, and a minty mouth, you finally made your way back to Chris’ room, yawning and stretching a bit before you finally tucked yourself back under the covers to find a pouty Chris looking at you with only one eye open. You just smiled at him and gave him a quick peck before you snuggled closer, tucking your head under his chin.

Chris hummed, bringing an arm under your neck to curl around your shoulders, just as he took a hold of your thigh to hoist it over his hip and push a leg between yours, essentially tangling your limbs together so you could be as close as possible. Even if it was just a simple gesture, your heart was racing, feeling just so incredibly full.

“Would it scare you off if I told you I like waking up with you on my bed?” Chris mumbled against your hair, leisurely dragging his hand up and down your bare thigh as he spoke.

“It takes a lot to scare me off”, you chuckled, giving in to the urge of attaching your lips to his collarbone. How could you not kiss him there when he was shirtless and his skin looked just so incredibly kissable? And even more so when the gentle morning light filtering through the drapes was enough for you to see his skin flush with each peck of your lips.

After a few moments of you just kissing Chris’ collarbones, his chest, his neck, you felt the warmth of his hand leave your thigh, only to appear again on your chin. He tilted your head up a bit to get you to look at him. There was such a sincere smile on his lips, you just weren’t sure where to focus, on that smile, on his brown eyes, or on the barely perceptible freckles under them. You just couldn’t help the heat that spread over your face at the sight.

“You’re so incredibly beautiful, you know?” Chris leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “And cute”, another one on your cheek bone. “Pretty”, and another on the tip of your nose.

Heat pooled in the pit of your stomach, just with his words and his gentle kisses you could feel minute shivers running up and down your spine and the fine hairs on your arms stand on end. Before you could even say anything, Chris was kissing you, slowly, tenderly savouring you. He returned his hand to your thigh, squeezing all the way up, holding you tight against him as he finally reached your bum to sneak his fingers under your underwear so he could grab a proper handful, eliciting the tiniest moan to fly past your lips and get lost in his mouth.

You brought your hands to his head to card your fingers through his hair, lightly scratching his scalp as you went, and, with a groan, Chris moved, gently pushing you onto your back as he laid on top of you, not stopping the movements of his lips against yours for a second.

With a hand still tangled in his hair, barely pulling the strands, and the other roaming his back, you just let yourself enjoy the feel of him pressed against you. His warm skin under your hands, his weight on you, his lips on you, there was honestly nothing else on your mind other than Chris and his warmth.

Finally detaching himself from your mouth, Chris trailed kisses all the way to your neck, where he settled to suck and nibble on your skin, making you squirm and whine softly. One of his fingers twisted on the side of your underwear as he continued his motions on your neck, seemingly in no hurry to take the garment off at all, almost like he was doing it just to keep his fingers busy, or even to tease you a bit–if that were the case, it was certainly working.

Trailing all the way back up your throat, his mouth found yours again, and he kissed you deeply, pushing his tongue inside your mouth as soon as you parted your lips for him. He was wearing only his boxers, so you could feel him already hard against you. That, coupled with his kisses, with his hold on you, had wetness pooling at your core, all combined had lewd noises escaping your mouth.

When Chris finally untwisted his fingers from your underwear, he propped himself on one elbow for leverage, moving his hand up from where it’d been pressed against your hip, slowly dragging it all the way up to your ribs, bringing the hem of the tee you were wearing with it, encouraging goosebumps to raise on your skin with the soft movement.

“Mind if I take this off?” Chris mumbled against your lips, pressing a brief kiss on your lips for good measure.

You just shook your head, giving him the go-ahead. If he didn’t get you naked now you were sure you’d combust, you never thought you’d ever needed anyone in your life quite like you were needing Chris at this very moment.

Chris shuffled a bit, moving to kneel between your legs just as he took a hold of the hem of your t-shirt, carefully pulling it over your head, leaving you in nothing but your knickers.

“Fuck…” You could see his eyes jump all over you, taking in the sight of your bare chest, and it occurred to you then that he hadn’t seen your full naked body last night. He might’ve ravished your cunt like a starved man, but that didn’t seem to stop him from blushing at the sight of your bare breasts. “Look at these…”

Cupping your tits, Chris squeezed them gently, kneaded them, just overall felt them in his hands, warming you up, and you couldn’t help but flush. 

“Thought you were an ass guy”.

Chris’ eyes snapped back up to yours, and he laughed, but the movement of his hands didn’t stop. “Baby, I’m an everything guy. Fuck, wish I had more hands. Wanna touch you everywhere”.

His comment made you laugh, too, but the sound quickly caught in your throat as soon as his thumbs dragged over your nipples.

He did it again, with a bit more pressure this time. The action had heat creeping on your face, and you couldn’t help but bite your lip to contain the obscene sounds that were threatening to come out of your mouth. Chris, on the other hand, looked absolutely delighted.

“You’re sensitive here, too, huh?” He had a smirk plastered on his face, and whichever thought that was crossing your mind completely flew out the window the second he started to roll your nipples between his fingers, applying the tiniest bit of pressure, just enough to make you close your eyes and your thighs twitch. “Don’t hold back, gorgeous. Let me hear those pretty noises I know you can make. Hm?”

You didn’t think you could flush any further, but here you were, feeling heat everywhere. On your face, your neck, between your legs… And the feeling seemed to intensify the further he worked your chest, the further you let quiet noises slip out of your lips as you barely held his gaze.

“Chris?”

“Hm?”

“Want… Want your mouth”.

As soon as you said the words, Chris dived, gently sucking one of your nipples into his mouth. You simply moaned, threading your fingers through his hair once again to further push him against your chest. With his mouth on one nipple and his fingers on the other, his motions had sparks of pleasure coursing through your body, shooting straight to your now aching core.

Chris focused on your chest for a while, shifting his mouth from one nipple to the other occasionally to provide equal attention, mumbling mindless words of praise in between, ‘gorgeous tits… So soft here, huh…? Wanna kiss you all over…’ effectively driving you up the wall. You yourself could hear the desperation in your voice whenever you moaned or whined or whimpered under his tongue, and it was right when you were close to begging for more that he finally detached his mouth from your chest entirely, swearing under his breath.

In one swift movement he’d yanked your underwear off, pushed your legs apart, and found his way between your thighs, attaching his mouth to your clit and sucking on it. The movement was so sudden you just couldn’t contain your sounds of delight, what started as a moan ended as an incredulous laugh that Chris matched immediately, the rumble of his laugh enhancing the tingles of pleasure that extended to all your limbs. He removed his mouth from your heat only long enough to shift his weight so he could lay comfortably on his stomach, take a hold of the back of your thighs, and push them towards your chest to get better access to your centre.

As soon as his mouth resumed its motions between your legs you sighed, melting completely under the gentle nudges of his tongue.

After bringing one of your thighs over his shoulder, Chris blindly reached for your hand. As soon as he found his target, he took a hold of your hand and brought it to his head, and you couldn’t help but chuckle softly as you dragged your fingertips over his scalp.

“So you… Like it when I play with your hair?”

Chris just hummed in response, with a hint of a smile in the way his eyes crinkled at the corners, sucking a tad bit harder on your clit to make his point. You just laughed, not because it was particularly funny, but because it was the only way your body knew how to express the feelings coursing through you right now. And when you tugged on his hair, he just buried himself deeper, closing his eyes and humming once again, a sound of unadulterated satisfaction that had fire burning deep inside of you.

He was moving just so leisurely, like he had all the time in the world to be just here, right between your legs, a complete contrast to how borderline desperate he’d been last night. Every time he opened his eyes and looked at you, you could barely even hold his gaze, the slow but precise licks and sucks and kisses had your head swimming, had you quietly moaning and whimpering as you got lost in the stars twinkling in his eyes.

Much like yesterday, he looked at you with want, need, hunger, but in a different way. A softer, gentler way that somehow also had your toes curling, had you throwing your head back in glee, and had your heart growing ten sizes in your chest.

Detaching his lips from you briefly, Chris got a finger in his mouth, thoroughly coating it in his saliva to then bring it to your entrance, pushing it in to lightly massage your sweet spot as the hand he had on the thigh over his shoulder kept squeezing your flesh.

You could feel your legs start to tremble as he added more fingers, as he increased his speed, stuffing you full of three of his digits while his hand moved up your thigh to rest on your lower belly, kneading and gripping the soft skin in tandem with his mouth on your clit and his fingers in your cunt, and you honestly were starting to think you’d died and gone to heaven. 

You genuinely weren’t sure how long Chris spent working you up, touching you, kissing you, fucking you open with his fingers, kneading your soft flesh with his hand. It could’ve been seconds, minutes, or even hours, but neither of you seemed to mind or care at all; all you cared about was the feel of him between your legs, the smell of his shampoo on the pillow below your head, his hair between your fingers, and how incredibly close he was getting you to your impending release.

Nothing had ever tasted sweeter than Chris’ name on your tongue once he finally pushed you over the edge, nothing had ever felt as satisfying as the way he softly sucked and licked at your clit to drag the very last wave of pleasure he could out of you. Your body slumped when you started to come down from your high, and your legs twitched a bit when he placed one final kiss on your clit and removed his fingers from your still sensitive walls.

Chris kissed his way up your body, lightly sucking on your skin as he went until his mouth found yours, leaving you breathless with the passion of his kiss and the slow grind of his hips against your core, surely getting his underwear drenched in your juices as he continuously dragged the outline of his erection over your folds. He didn’t seem to mind or care at all, in fact, he seemed to be just completely lost in the feel of you under him, in the feel of your tongue against his own, and the feel of your fingers gently running down his back.

“Baby…” You mumbled, resting one of your hands on his shoulder and the other on his round bottom. “Baby, need to breathe”.

Chris chuckled, pulling his mouth from yours to repeatedly kiss your cheeks, finally stopping the movement of his hips between your legs, but keeping himself flush to your body. “Sorry”.

“No, you’re not”, you laughed, still slightly breathless, but you hugged him tight anyway.

“No, I’m not”, Chris gave you a cheeky smile, looking absolutely pleased with himself, and, honestly, while you still felt pleasure coursing through your body from your orgasm, you just couldn’t find it in you to pretend to be mad at him.

Pulling himself off of you fully to give you a breather, Chris got rid of his underwear, and you propped yourself on your elbows to just look at him in all his glory, broad, strong, naked… 

“You’re unfairly handsome, you now?”

Chris giggled, a pink tint coloured his cheeks, and he shook his head side to side while he found his way between your legs once again, kneeling on the bed, sitting back on his heels and looking down at you with an incredibly fascinating mix of endearment and lust swimming in his eyes. Scooting as close to you as he could, he placed a hand on your thigh just as he brought the other close to his mouth to spit on it. After spreading his saliva all over his shaft, he finally closed his fist around his length to leisurely stroke himself.

“I wholeheartedly believe you’re the pretty one in this relationship”.

A teasing smile spread on your face, and you quirked a brow at him, ignoring any possible self-deprecating comment your brain immediately came up with at that moment, choosing instead to focus on holding back the laugh that was threatening to come out of your mouth. “Oh? So we’re in a relationship?”

“If you want to be”, Chris tightened his hold on your thigh, but kept the movement of the hand working his cock the same slow, steady pace.

“Do you?”

“I do”, Chris answered in a heartbeat, giving you a genuine smile, an adorable smile that made his eyes disappear and his dimples show on his cheeks, and you were sure your heart was about to burst out of your chest.

You replied confidently anyway, because if there was one thing that Chris made you feel was confident, and fearless. “I do, too”.

Chris was about to say something, but whatever it was died on his tongue, replaced with a groan when Wolfgang suddenly jumped on the bed and found his way towards you, sniffing you and attempting to lick your cheeks, making you laugh while you tried to pull away.

Chris let go of his cock immediately, taking a hold of Wolfgang’s collar to keep him from jumping on you and crushing you. “Dude, this is quite possibly the worst moment for you to show affection. Go away”.

Wolfgang, however, took this as a sign to start playing, shifting his attention from you to Chris in a heartbeat and trying to jump on his shoulders, hitting your leg with his wagging tail in the process. “Dude!”

You honestly couldn’t stop laughing.

“Come here, you giant twit”, Chris scooped Wolfgang into his arms. With admittedly a bit of difficulty since his dog kept trying to play while Chris held him, he got out of bed and left the bedroom entirely. You could hear Wolfgang’s tail hitting the walls as they went, just like you could hear Chris lecturing him. ‘You can’t do this to me. You gotta understand the act of making puppies is very, very sacred. Think of the bro code, dude. You can’t just interrupt and jump on my girl like that!’

Your laughs turned to soft chuckles, and you reached for your eyes to wipe the tears that had collected at the corners. Shuffling could be heard in the living room, and then you heard running water.

After a moment, Chris came back into the room, huffing in annoyance, and ruffling his hair. The sight of his length half hard and bobbing between his legs with every step was oddly amusing to you.

“What’d you do?” You asked as soon as Chris was back into your arms and nestled between your legs so he could kiss you.

“Gave him a scolding and a Kong filled with treats to entertain himself”, he mumbled between kisses, propping himself on an elbow.

The cold feeling of his still slightly moist hand dragging down your side made you shiver.

“Don’t scold Wolfgang. He’s a good boy, he just wants to play”, you chuckled, speaking between kisses.

“What about me?” Chris pulled himself away from your hold, reaching for his nightstand. “I wanna play, too, but I can’t if he’s here”.

“Got performance anxiety?” You watched Chris rummage the first drawer of his nightstand, where he clearly didn’t find what he was looking for.

Chris chuckled, opening the second drawer and rummaging the contents there, too. “Why? Wanna get fucked with an audience? Can’t give you that, babe. I want you all to myself”.

He finally found what he was looking for, a condom, which he immediately opened and rolled over his once again fully hard length. “Besides, doesn’t it unsettle you a bit to have Wolfgang specifically watch us have sex?”

“Only if he tries to get involved”, you chuckled.

“Freaky, huh?”

You licked your lips when Chris got comfortable between your legs again and started to drag the head of his cock up and down your slit. “Not even close to being the weirdest thing about me”.

“True”, he chuckled. “The way you wash the dishes both fascinates me and puzzles me to this day”.

He just kept dragging the tip of his length all over your cunt, spreading your juices around, stopping at your entrance sometimes but not going in. He was very obviously teasing you, and you couldn’t help but whine. “Babe…”

“What?” He grinned at you, brushing your clit with his tip briefly, only to dip back down to tease your entrance.

“Christopher”, a pout made its way onto your lips, just as you rolled your hips to try and get him to go in. Sadly, it didn’t work. If anything, it only made Chris giggle.

“God, you’re just so cute”, he was giggling still, and you would’ve probably said something about it, had he not eased himself into your heat with one swift movement, filling you up fully, making you gasp. 

Chris leaned into you, propping himself on his elbows to plant a kiss on your lips. You simply hugged him close, caressing his lower back, softly tracing the dimples there with one of your fingers just as your free hand made its way to his bum again, squeezing once he started to move, ever so slowly.

“So, so cute”, Chris mumbled against your lips, and you just hummed in response. 

Parting from your lips, he started a trail of kisses from your cheek to your neck, mumbling between each press of his lips against your skin. “So soft, too…”

He dragged his hand up and down your thigh, squeezing sporadically, keeping that slow pace of his hips. “Tight…” 

You couldn’t help but whine, your brain once again turning to putty with every drag of his cock against your walls, with every tight squeeze to your soft flesh, with every love bite he left on your skin… Bringing your other hand to his buttock, you grabbed a handful in each hand, revelling in the way Chris groaned against your neck and how his pace picked up the tiniest bit.

A part of you–a very needy, greedy part of you–wanted to beg him to go faster, to go harder, but another part of you simply wanted to enjoy his slow and precise movements, especially when Chris seemed to be enjoying it all just like this.

As you dragged the tip of one of your fingers up his spine, he swore under his breath and kissed you, so deeply you weren’t sure what had you involuntarily clenching around him, if it was the feeling of his tongue against yours, or his cock stretching you open and hitting the utmost sensitive areas within your walls.

Detaching himself from your mouth, Chris pressed his forehead against yours, the lack of barrier letting your soft moans freely spill from your lips.

One of his hands found yours, linking your fingers together, holding it tight and pressing it to the mattress as you mindlessly whispered sweet nothings to him. How good he felt inside of you, how well he was fucking you open, how handsome he was… Anything and everything that came to your hazy mind, all while Chris just groaned lowly, sounding just so incredibly lost in the feeling of you and your body it almost made you lightheaded.

Burying his cock as deep as he could, he stilled, catching your mouth in a heated kiss when you buried your hand in his hair and tugged.

“Sit on me”, Chris mumbled against your mouth, pressing a brief kiss on your lips right after for good measure.

You simply nodded in response. The sudden lack of his body heat, of his length inside of you, of his weight on you, almost gave you whiplash, but you moved regardless, and as soon as Chris was on his back, you straddled him, keeping yourself lifted enough to align his cock with your entrance.

You couldn’t help but moan once he was back within your warmth, just like Chris didn’t seem to be able to hold back his groan of satisfaction when he was snugly buried to the hilt. Bringing his hands to your hips, he squeezed hard on your soft flesh, swearing under his breath as he took in the sight of you fully sitting on his lap.

“Fuck, look at you–” He all but choked on his words as soon as you started to move, bracing yourself on his chest for leverage so you could bounce on his cock.

“Was this what you’d imagined?” You asked, admittedly a bit breathless. “During your–Fuck… Your hip thrust sets?”

“Baby…” Planting his feet firmly on the bed, and with his tight grip on your hips, Chris started to thrust up, so suddenly you fell on your elbows at either side of his head, moaning loudly. “It’s… So… Much… Better”, he emphasised each word with sharp thrusts, hitting your walls just right, making you whine.

You tried your best to match his pace, bringing your hips down when he brought his up. You could feel your soft flesh rippling every time your bodies collided, and you honestly couldn’t contain the sounds that were flying past your lips as Chris kept relentlessly ramming into you.

“You’re a fucking dream”, Chris groaned, pulling one of your arms behind your back and holding it in place with one of his strong hands to keep you flush against his body, chest against chest, while his other hand moved from your hip to grab a handful of your ass. “You take it so fucking well, fuck…”

All you could do was whine as you buried your head in the crook of his neck, attaching your lips to his throat in an attempt to muffle the pathetic sounds that were coming out of your mouth. As soon as your free hand made its way into Chris’ hair and tugged, he groaned, and his hands tightened their hold on you in response.

The longer you stayed there taking a pounding, the longer your clit rubbed against his lower abdomen, the more you felt your sanity slip between your fingers, leaving nothing in your mind but Chris and his cock ramming into you and his hands holding onto you.

You wanted to tell him how close you were, but you honestly weren’t sure if the words came out of your mouth at all. All you knew for sure was that after one particularly hard thrust you finally found your gratifying relief, mindlessly biting on Chris’ shoulder to somehow keep your mind a bit grounded through it all.

You vaguely registered Chris swearing, loudly, repeatedly, until the hand on your rear pushed you flush against him and the most delicious sounds flew past his lips as he came. You clenched around him, somewhat on purpose, somewhat because he just sounded so incredibly hot when he groaned and moaned so close to your ear you just couldn’t help your body’s reaction to him.

“Fucking hell…” Chris mumbled, turning his head enough to absentmindedly press kisses on your cheek, finally letting go of your arm and your buttock so he could wrap his arms tightly around your waist, holding you close.

You turned your head fully, catching his mouth in yours for a slow, gentle kiss, moving the hand that had been held on your back to softly caress his cheek while the other simply played with the more than mussed curls on his head. 

You both laid there for a moment, until Chris muttered a ‘gimme a sec, baby. Gotta get rid of this fucking condom before I go soft and cum gets everywhere’. 

So you got off of him, dropping to the side to catch your breath as you watched him leave the room to dispose of the soiled latex and come back in less than a minute. As soon as he was back on the bed he asked you to lay on top of him again, and you did, chuckling a bit once you straddled him and rested your weight on him.

“So this is why you wanted me, huh? So you could use me as your own personal weighted blanket?”

Chris just laughed, wrapping an arm around your waist and burying a hand in your hair to softly massage your scalp. “How do you even come up with this stuff?”

“I’m a part-time comedian”, tucking your head under his chin, you couldn’t help but sigh, feeling content, and immensely satisfied.

Chris hummed, placing a kiss on the top of your head. “And a full time cutie”.

You pulled yourself away from his neck briefly, regarding him with a smile before you kissed him.

“Have you ever had Venezuelan food?” Chris asked as soon as you pulled back from the kiss, softly caressing your back.

“No, why?”

“There’s this really good place in the city centre I think you’d like… Was thinking maybe we could go there tonight”.

You quirked a brow at him with a teasing smile on your lips. “For our date?”

“God, yeah”, Chris giggled, blushing a bit as if he hadn’t just fucked you dumb, and somehow the sight of him blushing made your face heat up as well. “For someone so dense, you’re incredibly confident sometimes, you know? No wonder you got me all smitten like a fool”.

“Ohhh, you’re smitten?” You couldn’t help but tease him further.

“And like a fool. That’s a very important part”, Chris grinned at you.

You kissed him, because why wouldn’t you when he was so cute and hot and his lips were so kissable? Especially when he was almost glowing with the after-effects of his high, and when he was looking at you with borderline sparkly eyes.

“I like you so much, Chris. It’s embarrassing”, you mumbled against his mouth, pressing another kiss on his lips to emphasise your statement.

“At least we can be embarrassing fools together”, Chris giggled, but the sound quickly turned into an annoyed groan as he felt the bed dip again when Wolfgang jumped on it, carrying a penguin plushie in his mouth, doing little hops, and wagging his tail so fervently all you could do was coo and laugh.

Herbie had indeed been a bad financial investment, but, at this very moment, all that monetary loss seemed to pale in comparison to how happy and full you felt. As you rolled off of Chris and he lunged at Wolfgang, essentially wrestling with his dog while he laughed, you were more than certain that it had all been worth it, and that you were more than ready to build your romantic relationship with Chris.

Tagging: @raspbinniecreme · @staaa96 · @oiminho · @starshine-moon · @biribarabiribbaem · @100layersofdaddyissues · @dearalice · @alexis-reads-fics · @xcookiemonsteer · @knowleeknow · @chanlovesme · @liminaldaydream · @sstarryreads · @svngiem · @notastraykid · @princelingperfect · @peepeepoopooharrie · @aestheticsluut · @skzhomiehopper · @cessixja · @mimzibee · @hipsdofangirl · @djeniryuu · @floatingcoffecup · @hakunaamaatittiessss · @minnysproutgriffinteddy · @moonmooncr · @waiting-for-the-barbarians in purple: can’t be tagged. If you want to be removed (or if i tagged you incorrectly) from the list just PM me. If you want to be added fill in this form~

© therhythmafterthesummer 2023. all rights reserved. do not repost or translate.

Constructive feedback (or even keysmashes, really) is always welcome :)

[readyforthegarden]

Eternal - Part Three

A vampire!gvf multi-part dark romance AU (Josh Kiszka x reader, GVF x reader)

Warnings: 18+ Only Minors DNI. Mentions of blood, death, vampirism. Mentions of biting and sex.

WC: 2838

There was a heaviness about your body as you stretched it under the covers, turning onto your side and curling into the pillow, inhaling the lavender scent in the soft, plush material. Your eyes popped open once your brain registered the smell. Your pillows didn’t smell like fresh lavender. Yours smelled like the last traces of fabric softener after too long between washes and old makeup you’d fallen asleep in. Sitting up your eyes scanned the room as your head spun a bit. You were in a large four-post bed, a fluffy, black duvet surrounding you. You turned, grabbing one of the pillows, an invisibly herby floral cloud floating up from the movement while your palm ran over the satin. 

“Well, at least he’s accommodating to guests.” you murmured to yourself. You glanced next to you on the bed, but there was no one. The empty spot next to you looked untouched, the sheets still tucked tightly into the bed on that side. As your eyes looked over the empty bed, you saw your dress folded neatly at the end. You were about to get up and get dressed, letting the blanket fall from you and sliding out of bed, when a knock sounded at the door, and before you could answer, it opened. You grabbed at the duvet, tugging it back over your bare chest and clutching it there as a familiar looking man stepped in. 

“Oh good you’re awak-oh I’m so sorry!” the tall man with curls down to his shoulders’ eyes went wide, a blush crossing his cheeks as he took in your state of undress. You held the duvet tighter, making sure you were completely covered in front of this stranger. He turned around, facing the door before he continued to speak. “Mr. Kiszka asked me to take you home, I was checking to see if you were up.”

“Yeah, I am.” you huffed. “Didn’t chalk Josh up to a guy who lets his roommate take his one night stands home.” 

“He’s otherwise disposed at the moment, but trust me when I say he would prefer being the one taking you home.” the man said, still facing the wall. Rolling your eyes, you leaned over best you could and grabbed your clothes, dragging them across the bed and clearing your throat. The man didn’t move and you sighed. 

“Do you mind stepping out so I can get dressed?” you huffed. The man turned slightly, his dark curls bouncing over his shoulders as he quickly glanced back at you again and grabbed the door.

“Oh y-yeah yeah, I’m sorry, just, come out when you’re done, and I’ll take you home.” he closed the door with a soft click and you waited a few seconds before starting to dress, slipping your panties on and tugging your dress over your head. You tried to reach the zipper behind you, but struggled, your arms tired like you’d been holding them over your head for hours. Letting another sigh escape your lips before padding over to the door, you opened it. The man turned around, giving you a soft, crooked smile. “I need help with my zipper.”

“Sure, yeah.” you turned around, feeling his hands tug the seams together in one hand and pulling the tag up your back. “There, all set.” he murmured as he let go, and you turned back around. 

“My shoes…” you trailed off, trying to think of where you left them. They were in your hands in the library, and then you couldn’t remember if you’d had them in the bedroom. The man picked up a small bag on the floor, handing them to you.

“Josh thought your shoes would be too uncomfortable to wear home, so he had these brought for you.” you took the bag from his hand and peeked in, noting your heels were in there, along with your small purse and a pair of black velvet ballet flats. You shuffled them from the bag, slipping them on and wiggling your toes in the taught material of the new shoes, stretching them out a little.

“Wow, remind me to hook up with more rich dudes.” you joked under your breath. The tall man chuckled a bit before clearing his throat, offering you the ride home again. You followed him down the dim hallway, back down the large staircase. Instead of the front door, he led you towards another, smaller hallway, and through a door, out towards a garage. As the lights flickered on you were greeted with a menagerie of cars. SUVs, sports cars, motorcycles, in all different colors. “Ooh, do I get to pick my uber?”

“Unfortunately, no.” the man shook his head, pointing towards a black Cadillac Escalade. “I have orders to take you home in that.”

“Orders?” your eyebrows raised. The man stopped at the trunk of the car, turning back to you as you folded your arms across your chest. “What do you mean, ‘orders’”?

“I work for Mr. Kiszka.” he explained. “I’m kind of like a glorified butler.”

“So not a roommate?” you clarified. The man shook his head. “I recognize you from the club. What’s your name?”

“Daniel.” he reached out a hand, and you took it, meeting his strong grip with one of your own. “You can call me Danny though.” you gave him your name and he smiled at you, moving to open the back passenger door. 

“Oh, I would prefer sitting up front, if you don’t mind.” you smiled sheepishly. “I tend to get car sick in the back.” Danny nodded, closing the door and moving back a bit, opening the front passenger door. You climbed in and he shut the door once you were secured into the seat. He moved around and climbed into the drivers seat, turning on the car and backing out of the parking space in the large garage.

The drive back to the city was longer than you realized last night, although you had been distracted by the attentions of the man your current travel companion worked for. You felt a small flame of heat flicker in your lower abdomen as you recalled the way Joshua had touched you, the way his mouth worked you over so intensely and perfectly. Glancing down at your lap,  you watched as your legs opened slightly at the thought of that man between them again, and you swallowed hard when you saw a faint, pink mark. That part had been a dream, right? Surely you dreamt that Josh had bitten you and drank your blood. Vampires were absolutely not real. 

Yet the tip of your finger ran over the small scar, subtly lifting up the hem of your skirt to see a matching one only a few centimeters away. Staring at the bite mark, you felt your heart start to beat faster. You felt dizzy, finally tearing your eyes away from your thigh and resting your forehead against the cool car window. The late spring day was chilly and rainy, exactly what you needed, leaving an alleged vampires home.

“You’re not about to puke, are you?” you opened your eyes, glancing over at Danny, who was nervously glancing at you from the road and back. 

“No, I’m just a little dizzy.” you replied softly, straightening up in your seat.

“Oh, in that bag with your shoes, there should be a smaller one in there, it’s for that.” Danny seemed relieved to hear you weren’t about to stain the upholstery, no doubt he’d be the one having to scrub it clean if you did. You leaned forward slowly, grabbing the bag from the floor of the car, placing it back on your lap. You rummaged around your shoes and purse, until your fingers felt more velvet. You pulled out a pouch, and heard soft rattling inside. Pulling open the mouth, you reached inside, grasping hard plastic and pulling out a bottle, two more resting inside. 

“Iron pills?” you furrowed your brow, looking into the bag. “Vitamin D, B12…what is this?” you looked up at Danny, who cleared his throat nervously.

“Well for the uh…the drinking…of your blood.” he shrugged as nonchalantly as possible. You stared at him for a few seconds.

“Oh my god.” you muttered. “Oh my god. Oh my GOD! This is real?! That wasn’t a dream?” you looked from Danny to the road, out your window to the trees passing by. “Danny, are vampires fucking real?!”

“Um…well,” Danny looked over at you briefly. He was trying to figure out how to best deliver his answer, already seeing you start to freak out. “Yes.” 

“Oh fuck,” you tossed the supplements back into the bag and shoved it to the floor between your legs again. You reached over and clasped a hand on Danny’s forearm. “Oh god…your boss is a vampire.”

“I’m aware.” Danny chuckled at your concern. “Are you okay?”

“I-I don’t know.” you let go of his arm and sat back in your seat. “Can you take me back? I need to see him. I need to see them.”

“Them?” Danny looked puzzled and slightly nervous. “What do you mean?”

“Them! The fangs!” you pointed at your own mouth. “Josh’s fangs. I need to see them again.”

“While I’m sure Mr. Kiszka would love being woken up to you sticking your fingers in his mouth to look at his fangs,” Danny deadpanned. “we’re almost to your apartment.” you hadn’t realized you were already back in the city, and he was right, you were only a few blocks away from your home. You raised your hand to your mouth, biting on your thumb nail anxiously as your world reformed around you. Sooner than you wanted, you were faced with being alone, as Danny pulled up to the curb outside your building. 

You unbuckled your seatbelt slowly, leaning again to pick up the bag at your feet. The rattling of the vitamin supplements made you sigh anxiously.

“Hey, I know this is a lot.” Danny leaned on his elbow on the center console, moving in closer with a soft voice. You shot him a look and rolled your eyes.

“Well you seem to be handling it very well.” you snapped. Danny just nodded.

“I’ve known for a while, I’ve adjusted.” he offered simply. “My advice for right now is go home, take those pills, take a shower, and take a nap. You’re going to need it. Between just you and me, Mr. Kiszka doesn’t send his dates home with vitamins, so he must prefer you.”

“Do most of them make it home in the first place?” you asked lowly, looking seriously at Danny. His lips pressed into a thin line and stayed silent, and you had your answer. “Good to know.”

“Go get some more rest. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you soon.” Danny gave you a small wink. You drew in a sharp breath. “Hey, that’s a good thing. I promise.” nodded, you grabbed the door handle with your right hand, the bag with your belongings in the other, and stepped out of the SUV. Danny stayed parked outside until you were inside the building, not budging until you stepped into the elevator in your building and disappearing from sight. 

Once inside your apartment, you were greeted by a yowling Jameson, pacing by the door since the moment he heard your keys down the hall. He rubbed against your ankles as you walked in, nearly tripping you while weaving between your legs in your attempt to shut the door and lock it again. 

“Yes, Jameson, I’ll feed you, give me a frickin’ minute.” you grumbled as he yowled loudly again. “I bet you woke the neighbors this morning screaming like that.” you tossed the bag on your kitchen counter and moved to the pantry, reaching for one of the cans of wet cat food you kept for Jameson’s breakfast. You placed the mushy seafood mix onto a small plate, setting it next to his dry food and water bowls, watching him scurry and purr as he gobbled it up. 

Now that he was satisfied, you grabbed the bag, taking your heels out and tossing them into the closet with your other shoes, and kicking the flats off into there as well. You set your purse on the little table by the door with your key bowl, then moved to the bathroom. Turning on the water of your shower, you stripped out of last nights clothes, putting them in your small hamper and letting the bathroom fill up with steam from the hot water.

You took the pill containers from the bag, looking over the supplements again. You being sent home with these, like Danny said, must mean that Josh seemed to like you. Or at least wanted you alive longer. You looked at your body in the fogging mirror, standing with your leg at an angle to look at the bite mark again. The small pink scars were lighter now, seemingly still healing from when you last looked. 

‘That’s one bright side,’ you thought, picking up the iron pills again. ‘I wouldn’t be covered in scars if I saw him again.’ pausing, you mulled over your words. Did you want to see him again? The climax he brought you to had been unlike any other, for that alone you’d pick up the phone if he called. The bite, you couldn’t remember feeling any pain, but you remembered the feeling of him drawing from you, making your thighs shake a bit. You gripped the edge of the bathroom sink in one hand, your mind reliving the memory all over, the image of him staring up at you from between your legs making your heart beat quicken. Steadying yourself, you took the caps off the pill bottles, pouring one of each into your palm and tossing them into your mouth, quickly turning on the faucet and letting water pool in your cupped hands, slurping it up to wash them down. Better to be prepared now instead of sorry later, you figured.

After you took your time in the shower, you padded in your robe out to the living room, deciding to check your phone. A few messages from Willa, asking about your night. You decided to respond briefly, a few eggplant emojis that would suffice for now, until you were ready to talk about it more in depth. You definitely couldn’t tell her about the other part to your night, she would think you’re insane. You were having a hard time thinking you weren’t yourself. But as you scrolled through you notifications, you saw message from an unsaved number, two simple lines.

‘Be ready at 8pm. Wear black.’ 

It was sent in the early hours, while you had still been asleep in his home. You didn’t bother replying, but before you laid down for a quick nap, you let yourself peruse your closet for your best black outfit. Once you’d settled on it, you disrobed, crawling under you covers and snuggling into your own bed. As you settled, you felt as if you could still smell the traces of the lavender from Josh’s house, though every trace in your hair and skin had been washed away.

The light was less blinding this time as you found yourself sat in the branches, feet dangling as you glanced over, the ground seemingly miles below you. The leaves around you shaded your eyes as they adjusted to the new surroundings. The wind wasn’t as harsh this time, just a gentle breeze moving the strands of your hair around softly. You placed your hand on the trunk of the tree where you sat, eager to feel the pulsing again. The tree thrummed from inside, almost pushing against your palm. A peace filled you as you timed your breathing with it, contentedness claiming you.

After a while, the wind started to pick up, and you heard the familiar whistle from the last time you were here. Opening your eyes and looking down, you could see the perimeter of the light had gotten smaller, and the black, smokey shadows were darting around outside it, speeding in circles around you. You curled up into the tree, hoping that it would encase you in its branches again and keep you safe. As the screaming wind around the tree continued, you heard your name being called through it. It was quiet and soft, as if you shouldn’t have been able to hear it at all over the piercing sounds. You tried to see where it was coming from, figure out who it was calling to you. 

In your twisting around in search of the source, you didn’t realize that you’d lost your grip on the branch you had been perched on, slipping off with a surprised gasp as you plummeted to the ground below. You tried to grab onto other branches as you fell, fear and terror building in your stomach with each failed attempt as the long green grass hiding stone hard earth beneath it got closer and closer.

You heard your name one more time, a loud, angry cry on the wind before everything went black.

Taglist:

@joshsindigostreak @lvnterninthenight @allieisacrybaby @xserenax-13 @sarakay-gvf @shutupdevvie @myownparadise96 @watchingovergvf2 @gretavanfleetposts @sacredthefran @josiee-gvf @highdefkiszka @ascendingtostardust @joshkiszkatoothgap @andeejoness @gardensgatedaisy @kkdarling @demonrat444 @teddiie @writingcold @dannyandthekiszkas @gretavanbestie @lightmylove-gvf @tearsofbri @paleshadow-ofadragon @gretavanslut @like-a-woman-in-a-dream @starshine-wagner @objectsinspvce @josh-iamyour-mama @mountain-in-springtime @cal-a-bungaa @capturethechaos @sunfl0wer-power @jankandjonch @gvfpal @allybjt @hippievanfleet

[queenofcats17]

Fun updates from this week's MOTW!

We found out last week that there was something in the pipes that attacked Wally, so Joey and Samy went to get Jack out of the sewers. And when we got him out we found the thing!

Which is...a kelpie. That's eaten some of the ink rats that apparently live in the walls.

Mango made a joke about Sammy casting spell of frow up to get the ink out of the kelpie and I decided to actually do that. So the kelpie threw up the rats and ink.

And then Joey had a horsegirl moment and we connected with the kelpie and found out that it came to the studio because it was hungry and it couldn't find anything to eat where it was living.

And...uh...long story short, Sammy and Joey have a horse daughter now. We bonded with it and it is our child now. It's just a baby

Sammy also got his hand stuck to our horse child for a little because he wanted to pat its head and forgot that kelpies have adhesive powers

Other updates include:

-Scott stomping on an inky rat king and getting ink all over his socks

-Herby and new addition Plush moving through the walls with the Sammy from the mirror studio (who has dubbed himself Apollo) and finding out that Jack both knows about Apollo and is friends with him. Herby has also dubbed Jack "Stinkman" because he works in the sewers

-Henry chewing out "Susie" (who's really Alice from the mirror dimension) for being mean to Joey

-"Susie" flirting with Scott and bonding over not trusting Joey at all

-Also there are just... a shit ton of ink rats in the walls. They're Apollo's congregation. And he was mad something was eating them

Joey is played by @wally-franks-stan

Herby (and now Henry) is played by @lairde-lampblack

Scott is played by @reanimationstation

Plush is played by @liliflower137

And our DM is @sbpstudios

[elizabethbitc]

I am obsessed with this vintage Herbie plush

He looks so silly!

[liquidtwilight]

I must take him everywhere

[luuurien]

DOMi & JD BECK - NOT TiGHT

(Nu-Jazz, Neo-Soul, Jazz Fusion)

Two of jazz's brightest prodigal talents link up for an energetic, if one-note collaborative project that attempts to bottle their explorative, technically complex playing styles into a cohesive album package. NOT TiGHT never quite figures out what it wants to be, but Domi Degalle's eccentric keyboard work and JD Beck's frenetic drum grooves keep things moving smoothly nonetheless.

☆☆☆½

I get why NOT TiGHT has gotten so much attention, but that's also part of my problems with it. Anyone who has been engaged with the contemporary jazz scene over the past few years has seen videos of Domi Degalle and JD Beck performing at one point or another, whether it be behind Thundercat and Ariana Grande on a cover of Them Changes, or the two of them making covers of   Madvillainy tracks, their incredibly impressive chops - Degalle performing on both keyboards and bass and Beck on drums - and ear on the pulse of hip-hop and electronic sounds that people love most made them two of the most relevant and talked about up-and-comers right now. On their debut project together NOT TiGHT, released on Anderson .Paak's own Blue Note imprint APESHIT, attempts to bottle their explorative, technically complex playing styles into a cohesive album package. At times, the magic of NOT TiGHT shines incredibly bright, but they pull themselves back so much throughout that oftentimes the album fails to be more than colorful, noisy wallpaper. While I don't find comparing artists to one another a particularly useful way of pointing out issues with an album or song, NOT TiGHT's sound sits at an intersection of modern jazz that can only be drawn out knowing the people on either side of it. There's the off-kilter, lo-fi haze of artists like Jacob Mann, riding on beds of fuzzy synthesizers and plucky electronic drum loops, and there's the explosive, colorful stylings of nu-jazz groups like Ebi Soda and High Pulp blending improvisation and rich jazz harmonic language into fast-paced grooves pulled from drum 'n' bass and alternative rap. NOT TiGHT's sound sits somewhere between those two styles, and Degalle and Beck, for the most part, do quite the stellar job at making expressive and intense jazz warm and accessible to a larger audience. The mixing is warm and focuses on a thick low-end and softer high tones, and Beck's fluffy drumset never smacks the mix too hard, always keeping things plush and mellow while having enough presence to provide forward movement - if there's one thing NOT TiGHT does best, it's tonal consistency. There's a certain pull to how tracks like WHATUP and U DON'T HAVE TO ROB ME so beautifully blend bubbly, bright jazz melodies into speedy, yet soft drum breaks, nu-jazz madness that still leaves room for you to breathe. It's intricate, but NOT TiGHT never gets so tangled that Degalle and Beck lose the sense of charm and personality within their demanding compositions. When they bring collaborators into the mix, things only get better: the aforementioned Thundercat brings his gooey basslines for two consecutive tracks on BOWLiNG and the title track, letting Degalle focus more on her keyboard work rather than trying to manage both melodies and a bassline; indie rock golden boy Mac Demarco hops aboard for TWO SHRiMPS; jazz legend Herbie Hancock appears drenched in vocoder for MOON while beloved guitarist Kurt Rosenwinkle brings smooth lovely guitar work to WHOA; Anderson .Paak appears on both the neo-soul highlight TAKE A CHANCE and posse cut PiLOT alongside Snoop Dogg and Busta Rhymes. There's tons of different ideas floating around NOT TiGHT, but Degalle and Beck have the focus and might to pull it all off. It never goes much further than that, though, and that's where many of my frustrations with NOT TiGHT lie. Everything sounds nice, and there's no song on here that's especially bad (SMiLE and TWO SHRiMPS are both repetitive and bland, but that's about it), but it never strays far from its low-key, playful jazz fusion, and it leaves NOT TiGHT as a full, 44-minute listen to feel underwhelming and unfulfilling by the end of things. Sure, it's nice to listen to, but apart from the few jumps in energy given by collaborative tracks like TAKE A CHANCE and PiLOT, there's not much of a difference in how they move from cozy nu-jazz to breakneck improvisation on WHATUP and SNiFF, or on the title track and WHOA, or any other combination of two songs here that check all the same boxes in different orders. It stops feeling exciting watching them go all out by the end of the album when it's already happened so many times before - a cool party trick someone's already done twelve times that night - and because of their constant reliance on that energetic, fast-paced nu-jazz style every time they need to pick up the pace, NOT TiGHT loses a ton of leverage it gets from having two of the strongest musicians out there today working together. They know their instruments well, but they're still figuring out exactly what that looks like in an album context, the looser environment of live performance allowing them to mess with things and react to things more organically than when trying to carve out the defined peaks and valleys of U DON'T HAVE TO ROB ME or MOON. By all means, NOT TiGHT's sound is a fantastic one, but it begins to wear thin as the slickness of it all gets rid of the antics and goofiness that makes watching them perform together at a concert or in a YouTube video so electrifying. It's the biggest thing keeping NOT TiGHT from going from being just a well-performed album to one that is both well-performed and consistently thrilling all the way through. Degalle and Beck have what it takes to keep moving forward together and take things further than they already have, and just because NOT TiGHT has trouble expanding on their sound doesn't mean the album isn't a successful outing in the slightest. More often than not, it's fun to listen to, easy to connect with, and with enough surprise turns to suck you back in when things start to get a little mushy. It might be missing that layer of grit needed to take things to the next level, but there's no denying just how exciting a start this is for the two of them, coming right out of the gate with a distinct sound and the concrete proof that their sound will never get old when it's this impressive to listen to. At the core of NOT TiGHT, it's two friends putting their all into making music that they love together, and that passion beams through everything they do here, no matter how exhilarating or banal things get.

[kakivino]

Querciabella 2018 Chianti Classico

Absolutely singing from first drop to last. Mid-weight finesse takes shape in the form of red fruit-dark fruit mélange with violet, thyme, sandalwood and earth. Pretty, moreish with come-hither perfume, buoyant acidity and silky tannins. Marvellous focus and freshness. A sangiovese lover's dream (sic). What a difference a year in the cellar makes. — ★★★★

Appellation: Chianti Classico Region: Chianti, Toscana, Italy Subzone: Greve, Radda and Gaiole Cépage: 100% Sangiovese Abv: 14.5% Production: 150,000 Élevage: 12 months in French oak barriques and tonneaux (10% new), 3 in bottle Distributor: Asiaeuro

Critic Reviews:

The 2018 Chianti Classico is classy, polished and exceptionally beautiful. Like so many wines in 2018, the Chianti Classico is aromatic and gracious in feel, more finesse than power. Silky tannins wrap around a core of bright Sangiovese fruit. From start to finish, the 2018 is all class. Drink: 2022–2033. Antonio Galloni (Vinous, 09/2020) 93

Querciabella Chianti Classico 2018 is fine and expressive on the nose: really focused cherry and plum fruit with fine green notes and lovely aromas. The palate is supremely fresh and balanced with lovely focus to the fresh, elegant red berry fruits, as well as nice herby, slightly spicy complexity. Really bright and expressive. Jamie Goode (Wineanorak.com) 95

This red shows some depth to the black cherry, black currant, iron and tobacco aromas and flavors. There is a hint of tar, and the firm structure is well-integrated. Drink now through 2032. Bruce Sanderson (Wine Spectator, 06/2021) 90

Luscious, juicy fruit on the palate and silky tannins that make their mark. Beautiful balance and elegant and concentrated at the same time. Amazing length and focus. Walter Speller (Jancis Robinson) 17.5

Sweet wood nuances lead with cinnamon, clove and a touch of vanilla eventually ceding to wild cherry and wet soil. On the palate, forest berries are laced with chocolate. The fruit is concentrated and plush with ripe, powdery tannins giving effortless support. This is its usual sophisticated and polished self, with lots of juiciness. Yields are a low 30 hl/ha and ageing is in a combination of French oak tonneaux and barriques, 10% new. Give this another year for the wood to integrate. Michaela Morris (Decanter, 03/2021) 91

This wine combines fruit from high-elevation vineyards on three soil types (predominantly sandstone, galestro and limestone) to give flavors of pure red cherry laced with soft notes of tobacco and herbs. Scents of pink petals add lift, and the wine stays integrated through a fresh, vibrant finish. Stephanie Johnson (Wine & Spirits, 04/2021) 92

Remains 100 per cent sangiovese, as it has been since 2012, as a three-commune collection; Ruffoli in Greve (40 per cent), on the Volpaia side and across the valley to Radda (20) and San Polo in Rosso from Gaiole (20), across the ravine from Ama. The totality of the Gaiole fruit is raised on Alberese, the Radda in schisty Galestro and Ruffoli, well Ruffoli is really about elevation. A no extremities vintage following a very cold winter and no climate spikes save for the early August heat. The Querciabella richness is foiled but also optimized by a three-part mineral harmony that does not so much cut but adds three district notes to the wine. The epiphany may or not begin with this 2018 but the textural perception has undergone a transformational alteration, now in defence against the drying effect of sangiovese’s tannin. The winemaking team has moved forward from the experimental stage into a full-on working contract with Piedmontese cappello sommerso, keeping the cap submerged for extended periods (up to 45 days). The high elevation fruit is particularly promising, forging true connectivity with the process. You get it completely, intuit the polish and this Annata just melts straight into inherit structure, again with thanks for a portion that has settled early. The wheel is constantly turning for Querciabella’s wines. Stupendo. Drink 2022-2032. Michael Godel (Wine Align, 05/2021) 94

[joyphuljellyphish]

Concert Review: Pink Talking Fish (2/3/24)

Allow me, if you will, to introduce you to a concept so wild, an idea so ludicrous, ingenious, and lofty, that it's never before been done (much less attempted): mastering the likes of Pink Floyd, The Talking Heads, and Phish. Three of the most abstract, conceptually intricate bands to exist. But woven together all at once. What musical nerds (or geniuses, take your pick) would attempt such a melding of music? Meet the Pink Talking Phish. Yes, you read that right. Yes, it is what you think it is.

What sort of people need to come together to form a band that not only aims for, but achieves, this complex musical mesh? Four ordinary, friendly guys - the kind that’ll stand in the cold and smoke a cigarette with you after the show and listen patiently to your review. 

First up is Eric Gould - seemingly unpresumptuous bassist who, in my humble opinion, is the glue of this helter-skelter band, as well as “the one who came up with this concept” - and it shows. Drawing inspiration from the likes of Cymande, Herbie Hancock, and Sly & The Family Stone, he touts an impressive resume as a previous member of the late and great Particle - another band known for exploring the edges and borders of genres.

Now that you’ve met the mad scientists behind this genius/insane-but-definitely-high experiment, let’s return to reality and the concert - held at Auburn’s Odd Fellows Lodge (ie, “The Foothill Fillmore”) and oh-so-generously hosted by Keep Smiling Productions. Let me set the scene: 

The first thing you’ll notice about the venue is the almost absurdly plush, deep carpeting under your feet (rare to encounter a carpeted venue, though understandable – especially as the night went on and beers were spilt). Your attention, though, will quickly be drawn to the entirety of the room; almost as if mass or a Girl Scout Badging Ceremony had recently ended, the cozy space features a single small stage (donned with proudly-displayed American flags hanging in the background) – and that’s about it. 

The simple, humble nature of the room was a perfect canvas for the signature light show frequently present at the venue – which deserves its own featured article, if you ask me. Beaming radiantly across every inch of all four walls was a psychedelic visual show straight out of the Electric Kool-Aid Acid tests. From graphics of sexy silhouetted women to new-wave-style minimalist flashes of black and white patterns, the awe-inspiring light show followed the vibrations and intensity levels of the band through every twist and turn.

I must admit, dear reader, that I found myself in line for a drink as the band started up - always a disappointment, but a commitment we make nonetheless. However, even from the next room over as I waited for my tequila and sprite, I could sense the energy of the crowd as the band kicked the night off with Phish’s “Ha Ha Ha” (these virgin ears took in this song for the first time that night; I’m still trying to wrangle the wild world of Phish).

By the time I’d returned to the lit-up and almost palpably-vibrating room, the band had sunk their teeth deep into an incredibly true-to-form version of Pink Floyd’s “Money” - the crowd had relaxed into a singular swaying mass of people sharing a journey together. 

Said journey took a quick turn as the band somehow perfectly transitioned from the dark and brooding “Money” into The Talking Heads’ “I’ve Got a Girlfriend”, a bouncy pick-me-up that prepared us for a personal highlight of the evening: a wild roller coaster ride on Phish’s “Bathtub Gin” - a song repeatedly teased at absolutely unexpected moments throughout the evening (smack dab in the middle of Floyd’s “Pigs”, for instance). “Gin” began as it typically would, with James slamming away on the keyboards and Kehoe pushing the song along with the ever-recognizable melody that carries the song. It wasn’t until we’d all thought the song was coming to a close that the real fun began; the collective tempo shifted from its laid-back walking pace to a gradual mosh-pit-worthy allegro that had us all struggling to keep up with dancing, especially atop such soft and lush carpeting.

First set ended with a funky stroll through Phish’s “Moma Dance”, a dance-y and laid-back respite after the hotfoot “Gin” we’d all expended our energy dancing our way through. And to great applause, the band exited, and the crowd smoked weed.

Set two began with a decision made by us, your humble dancers, after being posed the following quandary by the band: Would we rather hear Phish’s “The Curtain”, or the classic “Foreplay/Long Time” by Boston (allowed on the setlist, I later learned, because Phish has covered the song perhaps twice in their career)? To little surprise, the crowd opted for Boston’s energetic, dynamic hit - which was covered well, coming from someone who can admit she is not typically a Boston fan.

Whatever feelings I may have had about the “Foreplay” cover dissipated as the band tweaked a perfect transition into the complex orchestral masterpiece of Phish’s “Divided Sky”, sending the crowd rocketing into the sky onto a singular shared cloud of bliss — the emotional rollercoaster of this show, I cannot stress enough, was unlike any I’ve ever ridden. 

As quickly as the crowd had settled into the ethereal, dreamy rapture of “Divided Sky”, the band ripped the plush carpet from beneath our feet with a swift and sly maneuver into the raw ferocity of Floyd’s “Pigs.” As if previously asked, the crowd collectively floated down from our Cloud Nine of “Divided Sky” and raged with varying levels of passion to the band’s version of “Pigs”, which they did not rush nor alter much at all; I looked around to find the whole lot of us shouting the lyrics as if we were front and center at a political rally at one point – but hadn’t we just been blissed out in the Divided Sky?! As a reminder that indeed we had, the band dropped in a few appropriate-yet-inappropriately-placed teases of “Bathtub Gin.”

Upping the ante on tongue-in-cheek mood shifts, the band wrenched us from a long and angsty “Pigs” right into the bubbly, lovey-dovey “Home (Naive Melody)” by The Talking Heads. And suddenly, we were lifted back up as one and our distressed emotive faces quickly morphed into those full of love, marriage proposals, feelings of young love, yadda yadda. As light and joyfully as David Byrne’s lamp, the crowd bopped and melted to the gushy lyrics of one of the best love songs of all time (if you ask me - which you can, and I’ll tell you I’m correct). The quite literally shocking emotional exchange from “Pigs” into “Home” was perhaps my favorite moment of the night - an act of dark comedy and a commentary on all the shit in life I love to critique. A major kudos to the band for this boldly satirical choice.

[pummelingbat]

i show people Herbie like i'm showing off pictures of my child. it's just compulsive at this point, like i hang out with someone i haven't seen in awhile and when they ask how i've been i say "do you want to see my plush. my fucking plush. he's my whole life now."

[nemorialex]

The Circle

Full Moon tonight. Well, it was actually a Successor Moon, with the white one being full and the Green Moon being a very full gibbous. Alex has a theory that they intend to prove tonight: They were going to perform Earth Magic, which required one full moon, so hopefully the spell wouldn’t be picky about a whole extra moon being just barely not quite as bright as it could be. And if the spell didn’t work? Then the Double Fulls were just a day or so away, and they could give it a shot then.

Waiting an extra hour sounded dreadful.

Alex had been preparing for this. They found and rewrote the spell in their journal, practicing under their breath for ease of communication when the time came. They dug circles and lines into the snow over and over and over again until they were as close to perfect as the human hand could create. A heavy shopping bag full of sage, herbs, and far too many white candles sat on the counter of the greenhouse, ready to be set to work. And, of course, next to that bag a shoebox was dedicated to holding a few of Dirk’s worldly possessions they planed on using (the sword didn’t fit inside however, so it was gently placed on top.)

A large breakfast of french toast with jams and applesauce, sausages, one of Peckett’s whole eggs (which amounted to half a dozen regular chicken eggs on it’s own) and some shortbread cookies was prepared. Alex had tried to get as much rest as they could last night, which was much less successful but that was almost par for the course at this point. On the bright side, they were cleaned, almost rested, full of food, so very well prepared, and they had done this spell before and survived! With worse conditions! This would be fine. They would be fine.

(Jay was briefed on what the spell contained, when and where Alex would be preforming it, and some contingency plans on if things turned sour. Just in case. Alex was not being reckless or stupid with this, not at all. They were prepared. They were over prepared.)

It was pretty late into the evening when both moons breached the horizon. Alex had spent the last bits of daylight trekking out to the clearing they found and setting the stage. Circles dug into the hard ground swept free of snow, with lines crossing, connecting, and dividing the various rings. An herby mixture prepared earlier was sprinkled into the tiny trenches. Fat white candles were erected at cardinal points and lit quickly. Thank goodness it wasn’t breezy today, but the light powdering of snow in the clearing was a visual reminder of how freaking cold the winter twilight hours could be. They couldn’t even set a proper campfire for warmth! The candles did well enough at illuminating the small scene, but not providing the much-needed comfort, so they’d better hurry it up if they wanted to keep those gloved fingers.

Right… Dirk’s belongings. That messed up shirt they had cut through on their second fight, in the temple. They had picked it up on their way out because leaving old torn clothes soaked in blood in a public space was just impolite, if not kind of disturbing. They hadn’t gone back and taken it out of their sylladex until now, and they blamed the fact that they seldom used the device. That was folded as neatly as possible and placed in the middle of the circle. There was a plush, a magazine, a silly santa figurine for some reason, and the dumb mono-colored pencle box set carefully between lit candles. The sword was laid with respect just inside the circle, between themself and that stupid shirt.

Taking a step back to double check (and perhaps admire) their handiwork, Alex was hit with a wave of… Not exactly deja vu, and maybe not all the way into nostalgia, but they could not help but make comparisons to last time. It wasn’t snowy, then. It was still just as dark, with crisp pale light filtering through the trees and the warm candles. The design was a little different, they could see that in their mind’s eye now that they had an active comparison. The candles they had last time were the tall skinny kind they’d found in the mansion for fancy tablesettings, not fat sturdy ones meant to last a while. The last circle was so barren by comparison, while this one- full of trinkets- felt more like a funeral shrine.

That’s not what this was. He wasn’t dead (he wasn’t exactly alive, either) and it wasn’t wrong that they wanted him back. That others wanted him back. He was just so “Strider” stubborn that he wasn’t going to ask for help on this, especially not from Alex. He didn’t like Alex, and the nature of that dislike was still in a questionable haze, but it didn’t matter. This wasn’t out of romantic gesture, this wasn’t an opportunity to hold it over his head, this was helping someone that they knew, and cared about, and who had friends who cared about him. He wasn’t dead (his Base was) he was just… Lost. Unhoused and wayward. And they could do something to help. And that’s what they were doing.

Alex took a deep breath and let it out in a shivering puff of visible air. They opened their journal to the bookmarked page, beginning the spell…