#with these big drawings there always ends up being a song that inspires me through it and i couldn't really find one for this

[capnhanbers]

I'm a mean green mother from outer space and I'm BAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(scene from chapter 139)

[stvharrngton]

closer

a/n: part 2 to fuck about it is here! it’s inspired by another parx song and one of my favourites at that :^)

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 3.3k

warnings: smut, 18+ minors dni, unprotected p in v, thigh riding, exes/fwb to lovers, soft dom!steve vibes, angst at the start

taglist: @inkluvs @dukesmebby @sweetbabygirlsworld @variant-lokitty @kennedy-brooke

I got my space but what I’d pay, for you

The red numbers on the clock read 04:37. You weren’t sure what sleep you had managed to get, if any. Steve’s soft snores next to you now are too much of a distraction.

You were in his bed, in his bedroom, but you didn’t feel present. It felt like groundhog day, same old shit different day. You and Steve would hook up after a party or a random phone call at 1AM, you’d sleep over, go back to acting like you hated each other and do it all over again a couple days later.

You went from spending every waking minute together to only seeing each other in mutual friend spaces, to only being close in secret. And man, what you wouldn’t give to go right back to the start.

It all felt too much. Too much being here, next to him, when you didn’t belong here. Not really. You had to get out.

You gently rose from the bed, fearful of waking Steve, tiptoeing your way out of his room and downstairs to the kitchen. You sighed before pouring yourself a glass of water. You contemplated if you could get back to your place in just your panties and one of Steve’s old t-shirts without raising any suspicion.

I need you closer or I need it over

“Couldn’t sleep?” A low raspy voice asked from behind you.

It would have startled you if you didn’t go through this exact routine every other week.

“Something like that.” You shrugged, taking a sip of the cool water.

You felt his eyes on you, raking up and down your body. You couldn’t bear to return the favour, his big brown eyes eager to draw you in. The chest hair decorating his pecs, the boxers hanging low on his hips all too dangerous.

“You wanna head back to bed?” Steve asked, tone calm and quiet, “It’s way too early.” He stretched his arm around your back. A simple gesture yet one you couldn’t stand.

“I’m just gonna go home, Steve.” You shrugged his arm off you, spinning on your heel to start up the stairs again.

“What? Are you crazy?!” Steve started, quick to follow you, “It’s like five in the morning, you’re not going anywhere. Just come back to bed.”

You sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat, “I don’t think I can do this anymore, Steve.”

The boy had the nerve to roll his eyes, scoffing at your statement under his breath. “Come on, this again?” He was flailing his hands about now, “This was supposed to be fun, remember? No strings attached, no feelings.”

You laughed in disbelief, “You said no feelings, Steve. You said no strings attached. You barely gave me five minutes to process our breakup which you never gave me a real reason for, by the way.”

The tears began to well in your eyes, purely out of anger and frustration. You felt awful inside, full of regret and nausea. Except you didn’t really regret entering this agreement with Steve, not in the beginning at least, longing to get those intimate moments with him whenever you could.

“But my feelings are still very much here, Steve. And it’s just, fuck–, it’s just too much. So, I’m ending it.”

‘Cause you’re the holiday I celebrate too late, you’re the eyes that I gave up trying to captivate

Steve stood there in the middle of his kitchen dumbfounded. Lips moving but no words were coming out. He couldn’t think of anything to say, nothing that would make you crawl back into bed with him at least. Instead, he let you get angrier, get more upset, he let you keep talking.

“You’re so selfish, Steve. We always hookup when you want to, on your terms. You’re saying you never once considered how I felt?”

“What do you want me to say? That I’m sorry, huh?” Steve asked, his tone a little harsh and condescending. He was tugging at his hair now, frustration evident in the tinge of red on the top of his ears.

“I want to know why.” You said, wet eyes blinking up at the boy, your lips downturned into a frown.

“Why, what?” Steve shot back with.

“I want to know why you broke up with me, Steve.” You sighed, shoulders slumped, “I deserve that much from you.”

He sighed, the angry, frustrated look on his face became one of sadness and despair. Tongue poking the side of his cheek, his eyes not able to meet your own. Instead his gaze was focused on his feet, a guilty feeling churning in his stomach.

“Cause I didn’t deserve you, okay?” He began, voice shaky, “So I sabotaged us, broke my own heart before you could, you know? Before you found someone better.”

You thought he was ridiculous, that the reason was some sort of cop out. The typical ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ schtick. But you knew Steve, and you knew when he was being serious or telling the truth and unfortunately, this was one of those times.

He grabbed your arm, wrapped his fingers around your wrist as you rolled your eyes, urging you to stay and listen. “I know it sounds crazy and really stupid but it was easier that way. It was too late before I realised I made a massive mistake.”

‘Cause I love you, or I want to, but I don’t know how

The kitchen was silent, save for the dripping tap in the kitchen sink, the ticking clock on the wall. The silence wasn’t awkward, nor was it comfortable. You were appreciative of his honesty, but it didn’t make it sting any less. Knowing that Steve threw your relationship down the toilet because of his self esteem was upsetting, especially when you thought Steve was nothing but the perfect boyfriend.

“Steve–,” your features softened, your pent up frustration faltering.

“No, let me finish, please?” Steve asked, eyes pleading, “It’s the least I owe you.”

You nodded reluctantly, stood barefoot in the middle of the kitchen at five-thirty AM. He started with a sigh, fingers running through his messy bed hair.

“I was stupid,” he started, taking your hands in his much larger ones now, “you know, I overthought everything. I acted crazy, because you– you were perfect and I loved you but I just didn’t know how to.”

His speech was heartfelt and sincere, a real tug at your heartstrings. In your time apart your feelings for Steve never once faltered, you still loved him, adored him. You felt bitterness towards him because he seemed fine, no heartbreak, no tears. What you didn’t know was that Steve’s head was still filled with thoughts of you, thoughts and dreams that kept him awake at night with a chest full of regret.

“Loved?” you breathed, doe eyes blinking up at the boy. You knew you had no right, but it hurt thinking that Steve had ever stopped loving you. Made your heart sink to the pit of your stomach, your brain was telling you to leave, to not stick around long enough to hear the end of the tragic song but your legs simply wouldn’t move.

Steve tried his luck, long fingers reaching up to stroke at your soft cheek. Your eyes fluttered closed at his touch, missing the soft intimacy you craved so much from your ex-boyfriend.

“Love.” He whispered matter of factly, a soft smile creeping on his lips. “I love you. Never stopped.”

There was something in the way he looked at you, a glint of hope, a glimmer of longing. You tried to ignore the butterflies fluttering throughout your stomach, tried to ignore Steve’s soft lips and the sprinkling of freckles and moles across his skin.

“Why wouldn’t you say something, Steve?” You spoke softly this time, a total 180 of your prior tone. So badly you wanted to wrap your arms around him, to pull him in closer but your head was fuzzy, unsure where you stood.

“Are you kidding me?” He scoffed jokingly, “I thought you’d never want to speak to me again, let alone have a serious conversation where I begged you to take me back ‘cause I’m a giant idiot.”

“You’re right,” you chuckled, “you are a giant idiot, Harrington.”

“You can say that again.” Steve sighed, both hands reaching up to cup your cheeks now, thumbs stroking over your skin, “I know you probably have loads of questions which I will definitely answer, but right now all I can think about is kissing you.”

“Are you asking if you can kiss me?” You asked, a subtle teasing lacing your tone. Voice playful and hopeful. Steve was right, you did have questions and you had no idea where you stood but all that could wait. All you wanted was his lips on yours.

“Can I?” Steve whispered, voice all saccharine sweet, low and sultry. Lips inching in closer to yours.

You let your actions speak for you, hands climbing up his chest, dainty fingers finding their way to Steve’s neck. You saw a glimpse of his smirk before your lips were brushing against his own.

You let yourself melt into the kiss, Steve’s soft lips sucking you right in. The kiss felt different than usual, rather than hot and messy, rushed and horny, it was sweet, passionate. Slow and soft. It felt like Steve, your Steve.

It felt like a lifetime that you were stood in Steve’s kitchen, lips melding together perfectly. His large hands began to wander your body, fists bunching his old t-shirt that swamped your body. You pulled away from one another, foreheads resting against one another, the tip of Steve’s nose brushing along the slope of yours, chests heaving as you both took a breath.

The pair of you both sported wide grins as Steve mumbled out, “That was nice.”

“Yeah, it was.” You replied, voice all sing-songy, teeth gnawing on your bottom lip playfully, “I’d like to do it again sometime.”

“Yeah?” Steve chirped, thumb swiping over your bottom lip, “How ‘bout right now?”

You squealed when he wrapped his arms around your waist, hoisting you up so you could wrap your legs around him, heels crossed at his tailbone. His lips were back on yours in an instant as he carried you through to the lounge, falling back onto the couch with you in tow.

Steve’s hands wandered down your back as you were perched in his lap, your fingers curling through the strands of soft brown hair atop his head. Steve hummed at the feeling, the vibrations rumbling in his chest as he kissed you a little harder, a little deeper. You were no stranger to makeout sessions with Steve, even post breakup, but this felt right. This felt normal, like you knew you wouldn’t ever have to skip out at seven AM again before anyone saw you.

The boy pulled away from you, lips pressing short, quick kisses to the column of your throat, mumbling between pecks, “You’re perfect, my beautiful girl.” Steve cooed.

You whimpered at both the feeling of his lips on your neck and the words that left his mouth. You couldn’t help but let it hit you right in your lower stomach, pressure building with every kiss of Steve’s lips, every squeeze of your ass with his large hands.

“Your girl?” You asked innocently, eyelashes fluttering as you felt the heat rise up your body, goose pimples simultaneously covering your skin.

“That’s right, honey,” Steve breathed, “my girl.”

Your hips began to move absentmindedly. The feeling of Steve’s lips on your skin, his hands all over your body, his words an aphrodisiac and the more he kept talking, the more needy, desperate you became.

“And what does my sweet girl want, hm?” Steve asked softly, one of his hands skimming underneath your t-shirt, his fingers brushing over your tits, thumb circling over one of your nipples.

“Fuck,” you whined, arching your back and pressing your chest further into Steve’s touch, “you, Steve. I want you. Please?”

He chuckled at how fragile you sounded, your whines and whimpers only serving as music to his ears. “I’m all yours, baby.” The boy responded, hand sneaking lower, fingers circling over your clit over the material of your panties.

You let out a strangled moan at the almost-there contact, feeling the arousal poole at your core. You bucked your hips into Steve’s hand, hands bracings themselves on his shoulders as you began to grind your heat over his meaty thigh, his fingers rubbing at your clit with every movement.

“Oh, that’s it, baby,” he cooed, “there you go. That feel good, huh?”

Steve’s voice was syrupy sweet as he whispered in your ear, urging you to chase your high, to make yourself feel good at his expense. You could only respond to his question with a high pitched whine, a sound that had Steve all giddy, grinning from ear to ear.

“God, look at you, sweetheart,” Steve mused, cheeks flushed and eyes hazy with lust, “making a mess of yourself all over my thigh. Fuck.”

Your hips began to move faster, desperately trying to get yourself to your climax along with Steve’s fingers on your throbbing clit. You whimpered the boy’s name into the early morning sunrise, eyes heavy and heart longing for him.

Steve coaxed you to your first orgasm with his skilful fingers, soft words of praise and encouragement whispered under his breath. You came undone with a shrill cry, a sweet groan of curse words and pretty noises tumbled from your lips as you shook against Steve’s thigh.

He hushed you with his lips, kisses swallowing up your moans and whines. He hummed against your lips as your orgasm washed over you, your fingernails digging into his shoulders as you let the tension leave your body.

The boy had a subtle smirk on his face when you pulled away, cheeks flushed and his bottom lip settled firmly between his teeth. You giggled as you tried to hide your face away in the crook of his neck, the smell of sleep still evident on his skin.

“Ah, ah,” he teased, “let me see you.” He spoke quietly, pulling you back gently as he cupped your cheek with one hand. “Beautiful,” he cooed with a gentle kiss to your lips.

You felt the heat creep up your cheeks at his admission, the feeling of Steve’s hands on you and his hard cock pressing into your core through the cotton of his boxers ever present in the front of your mind. You felt him tense as you moved over the bulge gently, the sound music to your ears.

“Fuck,” he breathed. Steve’s eyes fluttered closed, his large hands moving to your thighs, his fingers digging into the doughy flesh. It only spurred you on, the noises leaving his pretty lips, the way his head was rolled back against the back of the couch.

“Baby,” he whined, “fuck. I gotta feel you. Please?” Steve’s eyes were wide and glassy, pupils dilated and dark. His cock was aching and begging to be touched, desperate to be swallowed by your pillowy walls.

You nodded with intent, standing up to rid yourself of your shorts and underwear as Steve did with his boxers. You watched with a slack jaw as Steve’s cock sprang to attention, hard and thick against the thick trail of hair that decorated his lower stomach.

Breath hitching in your throat, Steve lathered up his cock with his own saliva, fingers wrapping around his length as he ushered you back onto his lap. You held onto Steve’s shoulders as you lowered yourself onto his cock, both of you groaning at the stretch.

You sunk down inch by inch until Steve was buried in your pussy to the hilt. The stretch was a sweet pain, sinful and worth every wince. The boy cursed as you began to move, gentle and slow as you gave him a nod, a hint to pull you along his length. Steve could only abide as he moved his hands to your ass, palms squeezing the flesh as he pulled you back and forth in his lap.

“Jesus,” he groaned, throaty and raspy, eyes trained on your face, how your features were twisted in pleasure, “you feel so fucking good.”

You could only whine in response, mind too busy to focus on anything else except for how the tip of Steve’s cock was brushing that sweet spot deep inside you. You began to move your hips faster, fingernails leaving pretty marks in his freckled skin, your wetness dripping down Steve’s cock, a sticky mess trickling down his heavy balls.

Steve was losing his mind, the sound of skin slapping against skin, your ass coming down against his thighs as you rode him, the poor boy was in a tiz. He didn’t know where he wanted his hands most; your hips or your waist, your ass or your tits, on your face or in your hair. The decision was impossible.

Closer. Steve needed you closer. Sure, your bodies were entwined, his cock buried inside you, your hands all over each other. But it wasn’t enough. He shifted you both forward on the couch, his arms wrapped around the small of your back, your legs instinctively wrapping around his own.

You were sat chest to chest in his lap, his hand shoving your, his, t-shirt up your chest, your nipples free to brush up against the coarse hair of his chest. You both moaned out loud at the close contact, his hands on your back urging you to grind on his length.

“Fucking hell,” Steve moaned, plump lips engulfing one of your nipples, tongue licking over the bud, “you’re amazing. Can’t believe I let this pussy go.”

Word vomit of praise and lustful ramblings was Steve’s tell tale sign that he was close to his own climax, his orgasm right around the corner. Your fingers were stuck in the boy’s hair, your lips flying to his, kissing him like your life depended on it.

“Steve,” you moaned between kisses, noses knocking against one another. Your hips seemed to pick up the pace with every roll, your clit throbbing and aching.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He asked, forehead resting against yours, his big brown eyes wide and enticing. His lips brushed against your own with every word he spoke, “You making yourself feel good on my cock?”

“Yes,” you cried, eyes squeezed closed as you felt the coil in your lower stomach tighten, “please, I’m gonna cum, Stevie, shit—.”

“Yeah? Fuck,” Steve groaned, hand snaking between your clammy bodies so he could rub at your delicate clit. “gonna cum f’me, pretty? Make a mess all over my cock, yeah? That’s a good girl.”

“Oh, Steve,” you moaned loudly, eyes fluttering closed as you felt the beginnings of your orgasm rock your body. Your hips rocked faster, harder, desperately chasing your climax.

“That’s my girl,” he cooed, “gonna let me cum inside you? Fill up this pretty little pussy like she deserves.”

“Yesyesyes,” you chanted as the coil snapped, warmth spreading throughout your body as you came undone. Steve wasn’t far behind you, two more rolls of your hips and he was painting your insides with his seed.

He cried out your name like a song, face buried in your neck as his fingers dug in the skin of your waist. His toes curled in the plush carpet as he whined and whimpered into your soft flesh.

The orange-y pink glow of the sunrise over the horizon basked you both in a golden gleam. The rays covered Steve in a pretty radiance, one you hadn’t seen in a while. A weight off his shoulders, perhaps, or an old flame in his lap.

Neither of you spoke for a while, too busy taking in the comfortable silence. You hadn’t moved a muscle, cept to rest your head on the boy’s chest, his fingers drawing delicate patterns on your bare skin.

You didn’t know what this meant for you, both of you were pretty clueless where this left you, where Steve’s confession would take your relationship. But you didn’t care. Not one bit.

You only had tomorrow to look forward to now.

[polarisbibliotheque]

Can You Hear The Rumble? - Vergil x Reader

Music Inspired Fics (Devil May Music) - Cirice, by Ghost

Pairing: Vergil x Reader

Summary: Everyone knew the kind of demon a hunter should be wary about is the one who plays with their victim's minds. You and Vergil were very proud on the outside - but how would it be when having to save each other on the inside for the first time?

TRIGGER WARNING: A lot of blood, cuts, bruises, scars and suffering on both Vergil and the reader's sides. The reader also struggles with perfection and self-loathing - in a "I'm never going to be a good person" kind of way, because I needed to get more intimate on the reader's part as well - and there are scenes with the reader covered in cuts and bleeding, though not self-imposed, it could be read like that. Those scenes are the reader's and Vergil's internal images of themselves. Reader and Vergil meet each other on their imperfections and the darkest parts of their souls, so BE WARNED. This might not be everyone's cup of tea and there are lots of potential triggers.

Author's Note: @tokkis-shelf asked me if Vergil's part of the Halloween special was inspired by Cirice, and here we are now. It is what kickstarted the song-fic requests! As with a lot of people, I think, Cirice is pretty personal to me.

In the video, it was so comforting to me seeing the black sheep being represented hahahaha and I guess that's why people love it so much. The part where they hold hands? I died, I'd never let go, I cry my soul out upon watching. (I did a very similar drawing to that scene when I was in school around 15 years ago, so it drop-kicked me out of my body xD)

Now, when writing this, I kept in mind that this song has a double meaning and can be quite comforting and quite manipulative at the same time - hence why I use the "can't you see that you're lost without me?" in two different situations, 'cause I think Cirice can be interpreted in so many ways and each person takes what they need from this song. I hope you guys like it!!

Plus, the song the reader and Dante sing at the end is The Power of Love, by Huey Lewis and The News

Cirice, by Ghost

“Can’t you see that you’re lost…?”

It happened every time Vergil walked in the darkness.

That voice in the back of his head, silently taunting him, the hiss of a quiet viper in the hopes of taking him back to the darkest parts of his soul. Quiet, lurking, whispering… Mundus always there, somewhere in the folds of his consciousness, guiding him back into the void – luring Vergil back into his shackles.

“Can’t you see that you’re lost without me?”

As if Vergil couldn’t belong anywhere else, as if his place was in Hell. After all he had been through, after all the sins he perpetrated, he believed wholeheartedly there was no hope for him at all – only a fool’s hope; only a glimmer of a wish he wasn’t as tainted as he was… A desire to not be such a monster as he was.

Pacing quietly through the empty cathedral, Vergil had already learned not to give in to those thoughts – to keep them at bay, as only a whisper in the darkness, of trickster voices that would always remind him of how inhuman he was.

It was times like this Vergil longed for the faint glimmer of the moon, or the warm ghostly light of a candle. It was easy to get lost in the dark, but a single ray of light could help through the direst of situations. That night, though, it seemed like the moon had fallen asleep behind the curtains of the clouds – Selene hiding her tears for her earthly lover in his eternal sleep.

None of you knew what that night entailed – you weren’t even certain what you were dealing with. That was the reason why Lady strutted in the Devil May Cry, not too fond of taking a job she didn’t know if it was up to her abilities.

“Well, looks like I have a new one for you to pay your debt, big guy!” Her singsong voice interrupted the ambience of the jukebox; Lady entering the shop with Kalina Ann and all.

“Eh, I’m never gonna be free of my debt, Lady, let’s be honest.” Dante sighed, putting his feet down and throwing his magazine across the table, shooting her a serious glare. “But things have been borin’ lately, so one of your odd jobs’ not gonna hurt. Whaddya have for me?”

“You talk as if I never help you enough to maintain this place.” She lifted one eyebrow, approaching the big desk at the middle of the shop.

“Gotta give the woman credit, Dante. Last month’s bills were on her.” You shrugged as you had finally come out of your shower, happy to see Lady around, still drying your hair with the towel as you went down the stairs.

“See? Someone who has a bit of common sense.” Her smile was nothing short of devilish as she gestured towards you.

“You know where you are, Lady. ‘Common sense’ isn’t much of a thing in this household.” You greeted her by quickly blowing her a kiss while passing by, making your way towards the couch where Vergil was quietly reading.

“Ey, you’re hurtin’ my feelings like that.” Dante put one of his hands over his heart, laughing alongside you as you kept on your way. “But fine. I’ll give ya that, Lady. So, what’s up? What job do you wanna throw at me this time?”

“I am not throwing it at you.” And there it was: you could always see when Dante stroke a nerve when Lady got defensive and with that fiery stare on her multicolored eyes. “If you wanna do it, great, if you don’t, I can deal with it myself just fine. I’m here to be a good friend since you can barely afford all that pizza you keep stuffing yourself with!”

As you sat by Vergil’s side, you both exchanged a telling glare. Just like you, Vergil was used to observing people. Granted, he didn’t know Lady as much as Dante or even you, but he did know her since he was very young. That fiery, easy-to-anger personality had been there since they first met at the Temen-ni-gru – and Vergil argued it was one of Lady’s traits that would never change.

Something he was quite pleased with, if he had to be honest with himself. It was a good trait for a human demon hunter like her. Dante always praised human’s hearts and particularly their love and empathy – Vergil praised their burning anger that made them unconquerable in the direst of circumstances.

“Jeez, alright, alright, don’t shoot me!” Dante raised his hands as if he was at gunpoint, making you wheeze quietly. Vergil side-eyed you for a while – half judging, half holding his own laugh. “It’s not like I have much of a choice, do I?”

“Humpf.” Lady rolled her eyes and took a slice of pizza from the box resting on the desk, pointing at Dante with it right after. “You know I wouldn’t bring you something if it wasn’t important.”

“Actually, you would.” With those words, Dante rested his arms crossed on the table – all the while, you and Vergil watched it all as if it was a show. Who needed a TV when you had those two? “But you’re bein’ too dodgy ‘bout it, babe. What’s goin’ on?”

“I got a call from a priest in a city nearby.” Lady’s answer was uncharacteristically quiet, followed by a bite from the pizza while she seemed pensive and in any hurry to chew it. “I’ve done some jobs there, know the guy, he’s nice. All the times he called me, it was always a quick, good-paying job. He said some weird things have been happening at the cathedral for the last couple of weeks.”

“Not to sound mean, but there’s always somethin’ strange happenin’ at churches.” Dante’s eyes carried a bit of skepticism: ‘weird things’ didn’t always entail a job for the Devil May Cry – and it usually ended with all of you hunting a rogue raccoon or something.

“I know. But this guy, he doesn’t get scared easy, ok? He’s one of those types of priests who’ll try to shoot down a couple of demons with a shotgun and, if that doesn’t work, he gives me a call.” Those words, though, made you and the Spardas raise your eyebrows. Indeed, it was a rare type of priest, but a good one to keep as acquaintance. “He said the cathedral is increasingly quiet, even from noises outside, with occasional distant noises that are not done by any of those who live there. After it all started, the other priests reported having weird nightmares, of being chased by something in the dark, inside the cathedral – this thing whispering things they can’t understand. Alright if it happened to one or two, but soon all of them started waking up in the middle of the night with similar nightmares – and, catch this, the higher ups of the clergy didn’t tell the common priests about it, but they all reported the very same dream.” Those words caught everyone’s attention. Vergil finally closed his book and leaned forward, paying attention to Lady’s retelling of the priest’s misfortunes. “The priest has been trying to figure out what’s going on, but some old books appear to go missing from the library, only to re-appear as if nothing has happened. Some books are missing pages, something that never happened before. He also said the inside of the cathedral has been getting darker and darker as the weeks go by. As if something is approaching – his words, not mine.”

Vergil immediately furrowed his brows and seemed to turn into an ice sculpture right by your side. You risked a glance, finding him with his usual dark aura – pensive, somber and quiet; hunter’s eyes showing themselves in a matter of seconds.

“Rare are the creatures in Hell in search for knowledge…” He muttered loud enough for his brother and Lady to turn their attention to him. “But those who do, are usually among the worst. Haunting noises, torn books, nightmares, dead silence and total darkness…”

“What? You think those Hell Piranhas came out of their pit?” Dante’s question had a bit of fun in the words, but his eyes were serious and he didn’t allow his lips to smile.

“Could be. Could also be a demon trying to mimic them to hide something else.”

“Hell Piranhas?” You and Lady didn’t need a cue to ask at the very same time. Neither of you had ever heard of that – and both of you had heard of a lot.

“This is not their name, but it is how Dante calls them since we were kids.” Vergil almost sighed in response.

“How we both called ‘em. Mister smart-pants over here isn’t that much better than lil’ ol’ me.” Dante winked at both of you, making you giggle quietly in return. “They’re kinda like illusion demons, but they like stayin’ in the darkness and gatherin’ knowledge. Usually work for someone bigger, though.”

“And even if they don’t, they swallow up all their knowledge and that is dangerous in itself. Afterwards, they feed from the victims they have been toying for so long.” Vergil continued Dante’s thought, ignoring his brother’s previous words. The more you didn’t think about what Dante had said about him, the better – for Vergil couldn’t deny it. “They hunt in packs, and the more victims, the more powerful they become. Some call them the Pit Deceivers, others call them the Lie Weavers…”

“You call them Hell Piranhas.” You concluded bluntly, making Vergil stare at the horizon with emptiness in his eyes – he could say all he wanted, flex all his demonic knowledge, you heard the Piranhas and now you’d never forget it.

“I never heard of them.” Lady had her eyebrows furrowed, searching her memory for some story like that.

“They either don’t leave the pit that much or not many humans survive to tell the story. That’s why.” Dante pointed at a great, old book Vergil had left on one of the tables a long time ago and now it was its official resting place. “You can find it only in the likes of the Codex Daemonica.”

“So either we have them around, or it’s something else. Something bigger. Right?” As you asked, Vergil only agreed with his head as the attentions turned to you. “Or something mimicking the Piranhas.” And Vergil had to sigh at your addition. He would never have peace again. “The mimic or the master, what kind of demon would the Piranhas answer to? If they are that obscure, I take it their existence is more of a niche knowledge in Hell rather than a common information.”

“On that, you are correct…” Vergil murmured in response, falling back into his pensive demeanor. You knew he would be lost for a while.

“See? Good thing I brought this for you, then.” Lady waved dismissively at Dante, but you could sense a little edge in her playful voice. Dealing with big things was fine, same as dealing with cruel demons and the ones that played the big-scary-one persona. Unknown demons were another kind of monster – one only Dante and Vergil used to deal with. “Plus, they always pay well.”

“Eh, I won’t be seein’ much of that money, if I know ya well.” Dante scoffed, having a small smile hidden in the corner of his lips; his tone and demeanor, though, were quite somber and you knew the red devil was taking it seriously.

“If you don’t mind, Dante, I would like to take over this one.” Vergil finally declared while getting up from the couch. “I know some of the hellish creatures who might make use of the Weavers or mimic them.”

“Fine for me, I’m needin’ some time to rest.” Dante sighed, but looked right back at you while Vergil rested his book on the big Devil May Cry desk. “But I’m gonna feel a lot better with someone around to keep an eye on ‘im, pretty thing.”

“Well, I didn’t intend on letting you guys deal with this all by yourselves anyway.” You got up from the couch, immediately receiving a glare from Vergil. “I’m going, blue devil, whether you want it or not. I want to get acquainted with these Piranhas.”

Vergil only closed his eyes, letting out the longest and most regretful sigh you ever heard in your life.

And there you were – although Vergil lost track of you quite a while ago. He knew the stirrings rippling through his heart when you were in danger; and being the fierce human you were, Vergil wasn’t worried about having you search for the demons in the cathedral.

There was, though, a slight uneasiness. That voice echoing in the darkest parts of his soul, it always came as an omen – causing nothing but destruction, inside or outside of himself. Vergil never could really say which one would be, but both were devastating.

“Veeeeergil…”

His steps came to a dry halt in the middle of the cathedral. The night outside the colorful stained-glass windows was pitch black, robbing the colors of their warmth and light – the fire on the candles, long dead in that cold night. The whisper that crept to his ears, like stark chalk on a chalkboard, dragged itself through the marble floor and took a hold of his soul in its clutches.

It was a different kind of sound – different from the ones inside himself, calling him to the darkness. It was from the outside… The Lie Weavers. Slowly coming up, finding him as their next victim. He was close to one of the places they were certainly lurking in the shadows, patiently waiting for someone they could consume.

Vergil never feared the darkness. Tightening his grip around Yamato, his steps resumed his way, approaching the places in the cathedral the faint light of the night could barely touch. Those demons should have known their end was near, and he was the harbinger of their demise – he expected all kinds of trickery, of resistance, of fight from them.

He did not expect to hear a familiar voice, filled with uncertainty.

“Vergil…?”

Halting his steps once more, this time his silvery eyes lost their predatorial gaze as his heart jumped in his chest – even if for a slight second.

“Mother?”

His answer was but a whisper before he was swallowed by darkness.

*

When engaging with illusion demons, one should be aware of not falling into their element: when engulfed by it, those demons were more powerful than expected, able to subdue even the strongest of foes. Breaking from their control required mental and emotional discipline rather than brute force.

It was a slight second – a foolish slip from his human soul, disarmed by the trickery of Eva’s voice – and Vergil was surrounded by a sea of darkness and turmoil. His heart stirred with anger towards himself for being such a child, a vulnerable stupid child, tricked by a puppet of something his heart missed so much.

Eva was long dead. There was no demon able to bring her back. And he would never see her again. All that logic was tossed aside in a spark of a second by his stupid human heart, trembling upon hearing her speak his name again. Granted, Vergil only heard his mother in his dreams, barely remembering how her voice sounded in reality, and this time he heard outside himself – but he should have seen it coming. Illusion demons, trickster demons, cruel demons… They all relied on the barely closed scars inside his damned human soul.

Vergil could always count on them to re-open those wounds, making him bleed as much as he did on the floor of that cursed cemetery so many years ago – and he was a fool to fall for it after he had been through so much.

“Vergil… Can you hear me…?”

“I can, you damned deceiver. You can stop these theatrics – mimicking my dead mother will not affect me.” His voice cut through the dark like the sharpest of ice, his predatorial gaze back into his silver eyes.

“I… Don’t understand you, son. I cannot find you.” Her voice had a tinge of sorrow and desperation – but it was exactly like Eva’s voice. Vergil remembered it with a tinge of gold, probably a result of the haze of nostalgia, but today it was grounded and melancholic – perhaps, that was how Eva had always sounded… He just didn’t remember it. “I can’t find you. You aren’t home.”

“I haven’t been home for a long while.” Vergil didn’t even try to hide the growl that raised from his chest as he argued with that creature. He was used to having a puppet of his mother parading in front of him to hurt his human soul even more, but that was already getting on his nerves. Taunting him about the fact his mother ran to find him that fateful night wasn’t part of the usual games those filthy demons played – and to say they were honing his wrath was an understatement. “And I will never be back.”

“I… I cannot see you, Vergil. Where are you…? Why…?” He could hear the weeping in her voice, faint sobbing while the desperation made her words tremble. Vergil raised his head in the darkness, holding his own heart not to quiver: she wasn’t real and it was all a gimmick to affect him. He would not be affected. He was stronger than that. “Why couldn’t I save you? Those demons they… They hurt you, didn’t they? Oh, my child! My son! They hurt you and I could do nothing! I couldn’t be your mother!”

“Enough with this, filthy, hellish creature!” His voice finally exploded from his chest, roaring in the dark and echoing through the void, finding only silence. “You have no right to desecrate my mother’s memory like this! Shut your putrid mouth and stop with your rancid lies!”

The glint of the Yamato being unsheathed made the darkness recoil for a split second, only to envelop the Dark Slayer once more. His grip was tight, his eyes fiercely looking for his first opponent to direct a very well-placed judgement cut that could end all those creatures with just one swing of his hand. Vergil had enough and all the patience he carried in his being wouldn’t be enough to stop him from overkilling those demons – he just had to know where to direct his wrath.

“Don’t say those words, Vergil… You are not… Not like this.” Her voice still trembled, and his hand was still certain around Yamato. Vergil knew quite well at that state he was a weapon of mass destruction, he just had to find his opponent. His soul was screaming for him to do that, to put a stop to all that mockery. “You are good… You are my son.”

Vergil would have sliced that demon into a thousand million pieces without flinching, even if it took the form of his mother – but his eyes widened as a soft, warm hand touched his face. In all those years being taunted by demons, being tricked and mocked, seeing so many puppets of Eva, Sparda and Dante, none of them had touched him… And none of them genuinely felt like them.

It had been so many lost years he hadn’t felt his mother’s touch – last time, she could cup his entire face, thumb lovingly caressing his innocent eyebrows, but now her thumb could only reach his cheekbones. Nevertheless, it felt like her: not like a golden, nostalgic lost memory of how she felt, but exactly like Eva’s hands, even with the slight roughness of her continuous gardening.

“It took me so long to find you… I am so sorry.”

“You are not my mother.”

“Don’t say that.” Her answer was a sorrowful whisper, her thumb now carefully caressing his sharp cheekbone. Vergil closed his eyes, unable to move, convincing himself all of that wasn’t real and not allowing his heart to sway – forcing his arms to remain frozen by his side, fighting the urge to embrace her. Reminding himself: his mother was dead, killed while trying to save him, a long time ago, and nothing could bring her back. “Your heart hasn’t hardened as much as not to recognize me. You…” Her voice once more became soft, as if trying to do the same with his soul. “You are not a monster… You are my son, my Vergil.”

With those words, Eva’s hand was finally met with a tear – melting the ice from those silvery eyes.

*

There was an impending storm rumbling inside your chest.

Whenever that turmoil took ahold of your heart, you knew Vergil was in trouble. You had just finished checking your side of the cathedral, finding some things out of the ordinary but no demons, when the waves became aggressive in your chest. Your steps were already taking you to meet him, but you found yourself walking even hastier – the sound, though, eaten by the shadows that seemed to only grow around you.

Neither of you had calm seas of feelings: they usually raged like a maelstrom of emotions you could barely get through without some destruction – be it internal or external. But there was a certain note of melancholy and desperation in your heart at that moment that made you know Vergil was hurting – and that hurting, you knew quite well.

It was almost ironic how you apparently despised each other at the beginning, but after a while you came to understand; that aversion was there because you, in a certain way, were a mirror of each other. You could see in him the traits in your soul you disliked the most, and Vergil did see in you the same thing – those traits, however, were the same ones that brought you together, and made both you and Vergil feel seen and understood for the first time in your lives.

He didn’t judge your sins, as you didn’t judge his. To your eyes, he was never a monster, and to his, you could never be as crooked as you thought you were. You found each other in imperfection and, in that, you managed to talk and feel on the same level – after that, every feeling of admiration, care and love was easy to blossom.

You understood that storm, that thunder rumbling inside your chest at that very moment. You could feel it exactly the way he felt – and you knew Vergil needed help… Even if he would never say so himself.

You couldn’t hear or see him, though. You found yourself exactly at his area of patrol in the cathedral, but there was no clue as where your blue devil had gone – and for him to completely disappear, imposing presence and all, was quite an achievement in itself. The air was stiff, heavy as if the windows had never been opened, eating up any sound from the inside and the outside. The darkness was heavier than the one you had previously patrolled, shadows allowing only a few glimpses of the opulent decoration and the path in front of you – although, you couldn’t see more than a few meters beyond your feet.

If you couldn’t trust your sight or your hearing to find him, you could trust your heart: the storm would guide you. Closing your eyes, you allowed your feelings to take over, following with your footsteps in the direction you could hear his soul calling.

Those shadow creatures wouldn’t be able to hide him from you: no matter what happened or where you found yourselves, you would always be able to feel Vergil’s presence and find him in the darkest of hours.

And as the thunder in your chest cracked violently, your feet came to a halt and you opened your eyes.

Right in front of you, there was only darkness. Not like in the shadows that took the cathedral little by little, but pitch-black darkness, that no light could cast aside. To enter it would mean to be completely bare: vulnerable, lost, without guidance, naked – but the screaming in your soul made it very clear Vergil was in there.

Contrary to your lover, you were afraid of the dark. You always preferred to have a little light by your side, for you never knew what could be lurking alongside you, ready to pounce and drag you to certain suffering and death. You protected yourself by being forever vigilant, as you always did – a trait that exhausted you, yes, but luckily, in the last few years, you had Vergil around to keep a light by you when your body started giving out.

For that reason, you would never fear entering the darkness for him.

And with a deep breath, your bold steps took you inside the dark.

*

Your feet were cold, bare, stumbling over a sticky floor. Even if your eyes could see only darkness, you felt the freezing air of that night slicing your skin: you were shirtless and something was hurting… Oozing. The cold wind mixed with a faint warmness that leaked from the open wounds on your skin.

Blood. You were bleeding.

Your arms immediately wrapped around you – those scars, they were showing. They never showed before.

Running your hands quickly over your body, you could feel the warm blood slipping through your fingers; some wounds barely holding themselves closed while others still poured as in the day they were created.

That was the version of yourself you used to fiercely hide. None of those wounds were physical, none of them could be seen… But whenever you looked in the mirror, you saw them there, under your skin, under your soul, quietly resting until you couldn’t hide them anymore.

“You are lost…”

It was always the same voice, of something dark, something inside you that could break your soul if you didn’t shove it back into the darkness like you always did. That was why you were afraid; that was why Vergil always kept a faint glow by your side whenever you couldn’t hold yourself together. The dark was dangerous to you – to both of you.

“You are lost without me…”

“I can survive quite well without you…!” You growled to the darkness, keeping that part of yourself at bay. The part that gave in to the pain, that bathed in the blood and didn’t want to get up… And the part that would bathe and rise in rage, making you survive at great cost to those around you.

You were past that. And you didn’t need that to survive. You didn’t have to survive, you could live.

“Can’t you see that you’re lost…?”

“Vergil!” Your scream was a roar in the dark, looking for the one you plunged into the darkness to find. You wouldn’t give in to the trickery of those Piranhas – and you would get Vergil out of there.

They would learn they shouldn’t fear only the son of Sparda: they should also fear you.

“You think you can find him…?” After the mischievous ethereal voice questioned, you heard a giggle rippling around your feet as you stumbled on the sticky floor to find your lover. “You think you are that good? You think you aren’t a monster?”

You furrowed your brows, doing your best to ignore the voices. You knew it was that part inside of you that always taunted how broken you were, how imperfect your soul was. For the longest time you believed there was nothing good in you, nothing to save you from a life of loneliness, until you crossed paths with Vergil.

He was broken too – and he would never judge the things you did to survive your lethal wounds.

“Vergil! Can you hear me?! I’m here to find you!”

“How chivalrous, how heroic! What are you trying to accomplish?” The giggles pooled around your feet, threatening to drag you inside that pool of viscous darkness. “Trying to prove yourself? You’re never going to be perfect. You’re a black sheep, an outcast, remember? The likes of you aren’t heroes.”

“Oh, I’m no hero…” You growled back, fighting against the things trying to pull you back; fighting against the pain of the freezing cold and warmness of blood. “I’m a fucking fighter. You’re messing with the wrong kind of monster, fucking Hell Piranhas.”

“Piranhas…?” A faint whisper in the dark broke whatever control those things were trying to have over your body, starting at your feet. It was Vergil’s whisper – followed by a louder speaking tone. “Y/n! I can feel you, where are you?!”

“Trying to find you!” You screamed back, immediately dragging your feet towards Vergil. You couldn’t see him, but you could feel where he was – and there was nothing those demons could do against that.

The darkness seemed to shift for a couple of seconds. You couldn’t understand what was happening, but you saw a faint, ghostly pale glow in the dark – almost imperceptible, but your heart knew, you could finally see Vergil.

And, in return, he could see you. Moving his feet, Vergil dragged heavy shackles through the floor, screeching in a horrid, soul scratching sound as he willed his body to move towards you. You could hear him grunting with the effort, another set of chains being dragged as Vergil moved his arms – slowly, but surely, wearing all of his strength to get to you.

You felt the viscous ripples of the floor creeping up your legs, almost on your knees, doing their best to pull you away – back into the darkness, back to the taunting voices, to the doubt, the hurt, the self-loathing.

“Vergil! Let me hear your voice! You’re still there, right?!”

“Yes. I am always here.” His answer came with grunts of effort, barely above the noise of the chains screeching around him.

The darkness shifted again, and his form became even more visible, as yours did to him – followed by a scream that rumbled in his chest, Vergil managed to get even closer. That made something spark inside yourself, that thundering storm breaking in your soul cracking in a scream that broke the insidious tentacles holding you back and making you lunge forward.

Once again, the glow you diffused only to each other seemed to get stronger as the darkness wavered.

“Y/n…” He growled once more, the shackles screaming on the floor as he reached out to you.

“Vergil…!” You reached out in return, barely making out the form of his fingers in the dark.

As you were almost touching each other’s hands, the heavy, muffling darkness faltered once more. You could finally see one another, as you were in that godforsaken place.

Vergil was shirtless, his body covered in wounds – new and old – bleeding profusely. His silvery eyes were red, sunken in deep shadow, surrounded by a deep purple mist on his dry skin. You could see his bones under his pale skin covered in so many lacerations you wouldn’t even know where to start healing him. His knuckles were battered, showing the flesh underneath, as well as his wrists covered by heavy iron shackles – wounds from fighting against them for so long. His hands were still long and elegant, but bony and covered in bruises.

You had never seen Vergil so hurt, so broken, so… Vulnerable.

In return, his eyes took in shock the vision of you: as shirtless as him, as battered and wounded as he was. Even if not locked in the shackles he wore for so long in Hell, you walked barefoot leaving a trail of blood behind you. Those scars, those wounds, those bruises… He knew they were there, but he had never seen those. You looked weak and tired, bloodshot eyes under dry skin, as if you hadn’t slept in ages… And those things you fought so much to conceal, now crystal clear in front of him.

Those were the scars you carried inside yourselves. The wounds you had to fight against every day – that you had to try to heal, even if sometimes it seemed impossible. The things you would never show, but, somehow, you managed to sense it in each other… Now you could see it, clear as a bright night.

And, even if you wouldn’t admit to yourselves, those were the very same breaking thunders that would keep you moving – fiercely fighting, fiercely surviving.

As you took in each other’s internal selves, Vergil’s silvery eyes finally found yours.

A loud thundering noise shook the floor underneath your feet twice, as your hearts rumbled alongside the devastating sound. You lunged forward, holding Vergil’s hand as if your life depended on it. Never breaking your eye contact, Vergil held your hand with the strength you would expect of the legendary Dark Slayer. You made each other stronger, and there was nothing that could come between you now.

His shackles immediately screeched back, pulling Vergil violently away from you. At the same time, you were grabbed by the viscous darkness – your knees, your legs, your abdomen, your arms. It pulled you back with vicious strength, doing its best to drag you away from him – back into the darkness.

“Don’t let me go!” You screamed back, tightening your grip around his bony hand.

“I will never let go!” He growled, doing the same, trying to drag his body forward – failing to notice you willed yourself towards him as he pulled you into his arms. Those silvery eyes never moved away from yours.

“You are lost…! Lost…!”

The voices chanted and screeched around you, doing their best to drag you apart. For a moment, your hand slipped and you let out a desperate scream, hurting your lungs as you were almost pulled back into the void. Vergil’s cry resembled a roar as he willed his body to move and tightened his grip in a way he didn’t hold even Yamato.

He hadn’t held his brother’s hand once. This time he wouldn’t make the same mistake. This time, he would hold you even if that damned the both of you to the darkest pits of Hell.

“Can’t you see…? Can’t you see that…?”

“I am lost…!” You barked back to the voices, still staring into Vergil’s eyes, trying to catch your breath while your lungs stung as if you were inhaling a thousand knives.

As Vergil looked into your eyes, though, he knew exactly what you were going to say – and he could safely say it was the very same thing he struggled to find the words to.

“Without you.” His answer came in a dark tone, ragged from the effort he too made to be able to hold your hand.

The thunder rumbled twice again – the voices shrieked and you suddenly found yourselves being launched into each other’s arms as the forces that bind you broke into a million pieces.

Vergil’s arms wrapped around you, one of his hands holding your head close to his chest, as you wrapped yours around his waist, keeping him as close as you could. His head rested on top of yours, and you kept your eyes closed – washing away the blood above his heart with the tears that streamed down your face.

“Don’t ever hide from me.” Vergil’s voice was uncharacteristically shaky, somber but reassuring. You had never been so vulnerable in front of him – and even upon seeing you like that, his reaction was to take you in his arms, to welcome you. “I’m not afraid of the dark.”

“And I’m not afraid of your darkness.” You tightened your arms around his cold, bony body as you felt tears running through your hair. “I can see beyond your glimmer, and I’m not afraid of what’s in the dark.” Your voice shook as you took a deep breath and Vergil’s arms held you even closer – his body shaking with the tears falling from his eyes. “It’s you. And I’m never afraid of you.”

“Neither am I of you.”

His answer was but a whisper – a whisper enough to break the darkness into a memory to be kept away in the deepest pits of Hell.

I can feel the thunder that’s breaking in your heart I can see through the scars inside you

*

*

*

*

“You killed the Piranhas from Hell with the power of love?”

Vergil wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear. Or die. Or both.

Probably both.

The whole crew was there as you and Vergil never came back from the job as quickly as expected – and when you did, it looked like you hadn’t slept in days.

The priest was more than happy with the result of your work – even though you never discovered why the Weavers decided to come out of hiding nor what they wanted. The congregation was just happy they were gone and the whole reason behind it would be a long-term thing for the Devil May Cry to work on – or to keep an eye on; maybe something bigger was approaching.

You and Vergil didn’t feel like going back to the shop, though. When you were hurt physically, things were very much ok to deal with, but when the wounds were emotional… You needed time for yourselves.

Unlike his brother, Vergil was a little more responsible with his money – and you, a lot more than the two. You managed to find somewhere to spend a few nights… Which involved the both of you talking out everything you felt and saw. It was harrowing at first, something neither of you were versed in and honestly were terrified of, but it eventually brought you even closer together.

So, to say you had defeated the Lie Weavers with the power of love was something that killed Vergil inside.

And you could almost see his internal self, glaring at you with a ‘really, after all of this you say this kind of foolishness’ look in his sad, silvery eyes, as Lady stared at both of you and made the question everyone was thinking.

“Yep. Power of love, it’s a curious thing.” You shrugged, making Vergil physically groan by your side while Dante slapped his table with a huge grin on his face.

“Make a one man weep, make another man sing! Hell yeah, Back To The Future, babe!” He winked back at you as you smiled in response.

“Of all the people you could end up dating, Vergil…” Trish sat on Dante’s desk, crossing her long legs while sporting a devilish smile on her rosy lips. It was interesting how her voice could never really sound like Eva’s. “It had to be someone who references the same songs as your brother.”

“Alas, fate plays many games…” Vergil rolled his eyes, but as they rested on you, there was a vulnerability you saw only once in that pitch black darkness. “But it is kind enough to give us what we need.”

No one ever really understood what he meant, but Dante was the only one who managed to see something inside his brother’s silvery eyes that could only reflect in yours – and that made him genuinely smile.

Indeed, you would never be the romance of a fairy tale book or a romantic comedy – but you could see what lied beyond each other’s scars; taking a glimpse at the worst of each other without fear and finding whatever light was left inside. You could understand – and that was much more than most lovers in the world would ever have.

[power-chords]

Some Miami Vice Thots*:

Big Screen, I Notice More Stuff: That club is called MANSION. Linkin Park (from Agoura Hills, or what seems to me to be the Westchester, NY of the San Fernando Valley — Californians please correct me if I'm wrong), mashed up with Jay-Z (a Black billionaire from the mean streets of Bed-Stuy, the New New Gatsby/Big Joe Turner). Relevant to bullet point immediately below.

According to Michael Mann Miami in the mid-aughts is Age of Discovery (Digital Edition) meets Crime Family Feudalism in recursive recurrence, multiple timelines and identities inhabiting the same geographic vectors (everyone is always forever in motion). The very first interaction Sonny has with someone who is not a team member is a bartender who says she is from Lisboa, to which Sonny replies, "But you got your tan in Miami." This is what I read: She's the "reformed" Portuguese equivalent of the character in this Butch Walker song. She came from money, she lost it perhaps, but she's been since... repossessed? There's a more sinister interpretation under the surface, since she is under the roof of a powerful (and possibly related) employer whose business operations require unwavering loyalty + utmost discretion in exchange for protection (which in this case is also exploitation). Tan, in other words, as a form of Midas touch. Sacrifice to a sun(/SON!!!) god (or is Sonny more of a defecting Samson figure, speaking to an inert "Neon" Delilah who will only feign at seduction/betrayal, moving through the moves?). So already these two characters are speaking in code to each other, which is an amazing storytelling device on Mann's behalf, and you can shake so much out of that.

Derived from the above: "My Mommy and Daddy know me," hilarious line btw, becomes double-doublespeak, quadruple-speak! Not only is he pretending to tell the truth under a fabricated fundamental, the statement itself is yet another subtextual lie. His parents don't really know him, they just thought they did, which is why he's run off to become what he's become. Rico is the partner who acts out of duty first, love secondarily; Sonny is the Byronic inverse. Diaspora southern gothic. I like to think this is the mythic re-interpretation/inspiration Mann wishes a certain American population would draw from, in lieu of... current political/pop cultural figureheads.

Gina tenderly comforting the injured Zito... this shot is seconds long and yet captures my heart every time! Where is the backstory fic for these two!

Once again, the Rico/Trudy sex scene is a definite contender for the most affectionate, respectful, and sensual one in Hollywood history

Oh, Isabella. My girl Isabella. I overheard someone in the lobby call this film "such a guy movie." I don't know what drugs these people are on. Especially when counterpart to the hypermasculine satirical camp is the sensitivity and sympathy with which Mann portrays the situation of women, how we are exploited either way/anyway, deprived of romantic trust/human partnership by being put at risk by men and also by them denied the agency of taking risks for ourselves. There's both heartbreak and hypocrisy in how she attacks Sonny at the end, screaming "Who are you!" (The audience's heartbreak is: We have an instinctive uneasy sense of the systems that force her, and the rest of us, to live as hypocrites. Who are any of us, anymore, really!)

I was like MICHAEL DO THE GARMENTO CRIME DRAMA W/ ME and he was like "I made Miami Vice already, dummy! Pay attention!" Me: "OK!!!" [Pays a visit to Auerbach's Keller in Grand Central Terminal and then stays up until 5 AM playtesting West Village: Walpurgisnacht/watching the Chicago & Miami Postmodern Pseudepigrapha about Non-Recourse Factoring]

The "color coding" in this film is bonkers. More on that eventually, I'm still chewing on it.

The duality of Man(n)ager: the tragic pathos imbued to Alonzo vs. the vaudevillian coercion of Nicholas. "Why is this happening to me?!" cracks me the fuck up. This most powerful, literally biblical quandary of them all, the whole of Mann's filmography boiled down to its most singular and direct (I.E., truthful) expression, in the form of a persecuted exclamation, and it's played for laughs. Because what can you do except laugh! It's Job(/lowercase job) as circus performance, as a cabaret act. Job's poetry parodied into factional slogans and Shandyan-American dick jokes. I can't believe people think this is a stupid movie, it's pretending to be stupid!!!

*The appropriate spelling for this film in particular

[ailius-suffers-through-art]

again, too lazy to draw a whole comic so plot summary here:

rpg au kinda inspired by that one animation meme on youtube by Mintartem

as always, please note that the twins are aged up to 18 in this

So basically, towards the end of weirdmaggedon bill is facing down the pines family in the fearamid when too much weirdness leaks through the rift and everyone gets dragged into a different dimension. This dimension just so happens to be a D&D themed one.

Everyone wakes up to find themself stuck as a different race and class, including bill.

Dipper and Mabel end up as half elves; Dipper being a Wizard and Mabel being a Bard who only sings cheesy boyband songs.

Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford find out they've become wood elves; Ford being an Artificer and Stanley a Rogue.

Lastly, Bill comes to as a regular old human sorcerer.

Bill, for once, has to play by this dimensions rules, as the god who governs it (the DM) is stronger than he is. Of course, this doesn't mean he can't have fun where he is, though, so he charismas himself an army and makes himself the big bad evil guy™ of the campaign.

Ford and Dipper share a nerd bonding moment about where they are before getting serious again and trying to figure out how to escape this place.

The party immediately splits (much to the chagrin of both nerds) as Mabel sprints after the nearest hot fantasy guy and Stan heads to the market to scam people out of their gold. Dipper ends up getting left with Stanley since Ford immediately takes off after Mabel to look after her.

Cue cute Grunkle bonding for both siblings.

After a couple days and a lvl up to multiclass ranger, Dipper is thrown a bone by a deity and told that if he manages to defeat the BBEG™ they might be able to leave. Once he has that, he manages to scrounge up a bit of info from tavern gossips about who the BBEG is and sets off for the ominous castle behind the town.

He tries to get Stan to come with him, but the man is having too much fun getting rich. So, alone but overconfident, he busts down Bill's door and tries to burn his face off. This obviously does not work and dip gets put straight into bills mini prison.

They bicker for a while and Dipper nearly escapes by tricking a guard into giving him lunch in his cell and taking his keys and making a run for it, but he gets caught after setting around half the castle on fire.

He gets brought to Bill, who is fed up with him and is about to execute him, when one of Bill's minions lets him know about an attack on his forces somewhere in the middle of the forest. Badabing badaboom guess who is suddenly useful again?

So Bill switches his tune real fast and tries to coerce Dip into leading him to the location using his nature navigation skills, and Dip reluctantly agrees so he has a chance to gtfo of there.

Blah blah blah they find the monster and end up having to hide somewhere and slowly start to bond because Bill finds Dip annoyingly endearing and realizes he's decently competent, and Dip comes to appreciate Bill's chaos and comes to enjoy their butting of heads.

Ford and Mabel eventually end up rejoining Stan and they go on a quest to find Dipper. In the meantime, Dipper and Bill annoy eachother in various wacky ways whilst trying to solve the mystery of who keeps threating Bill's BBEG status.

NOW that i've caught you guys up to speed, here's a moment that came to me in the middle of the night that compelled me to draw it. Takes place after these dorks officially get together.

[outer-andromeda]

Also I realized I haven't made a proper post about Beetlejuice closing on Broadway. And it HAS been like-

*checks computer's calendar*

Almost four weeks since their last show in the Marquis (oh god already!?). So uh- let's do that. Never too late to be emotional amiright.

Long post ahead. Feel free to read if you're up to it. Just a bunch of rambling and venting about the show and more. ✨

—————

—————

Let's start with the beginning.

I'm not gonna lie, the first time I ever heard one of the songs was from a Tiktok video. A cosplay video. With "The Whole Being Dead Thing P. 2" playing. I had no idea the song came from a musical at the time but I remember enjoying it a lot, to the point of leaving the video on loop simply to listen to the beginning bit of the song over and over again. I had no idea where to look for it and didn't try to look for it either so I kind of forgot about it eventually.

Then October 2020 came around the corner. Halloween was approaching. And Mads mentioned Beetlejuice the Musical to me. I was sort of drifting along different fandoms at the time while also trying to figure out myself and do as well as I could in school after the first lockdown... So uh- strange and unusual times indeed. 😭

I wasn't sure what I was getting into. But then I checked Shnikkles's animatic of "Invisible (Reprise) / Say My Name" on YouTube. (I always loved this artist for their work on Steven Universe so I was still following what they were doing on socials.)

And in THAT FUCKING MOMENT. That's when the brainrot began.

And also my embarrassing simping phase for Alex Brightman which turned out to be admiration for the guy... And a lot of gender envy. But but we ain't gonna be talking about that.

After that moment, I started listening to the whole cast recording. FINALLY recognizing the song I had heard months ago on that freaking cosplay video. And then I started drawing the man. After Halloween, both me and Mads made BJsonas based on our Beetlejuice costumes... Which turned out to become, with time and a lot of character and design changes, the Veda and Zeta you know and (hopefully) love.

Then I suggested both girls meeting Beej. Which then turned into an AU. Which then became the Sequel Musical project/concept and which inspired the human AU.

The human AU (later renamed the Feral Fam AU, then the Lawrence AU in current days) was mostly made for comfort. We turned Beej into an anxious, grumpy, touch-starved cuddley guy with strong paternal instincts who was incredibly sweet and soft for the girls but who was in deep denial.

... Which... To be honest, is sorta still the case. 😭 But now the story is a lot more flushed out and has depth and work into it. And Mads and I both love how much the way we portray the guy has changed over the months. We love that he's more than what I described. That he's still a comfort character but he's also still Beej. He still has flaws and he's still an asshole but he's slowly developing into something more as the story keeps going.

(And we love character development in this household heheh >:D)

And thanks to that, Beej became a very important comfort character to me. Beetlejuice the Musical came at a time where things were getting confusing and rough. Where choices had to be made. Where changes were supposed to occur. Where something was ending and I had to move on to something else; in this case, moving on from high school and being a teen, and going to college and learning how to be an adult.

I still feel like a teen. I'm not that good at adulting. But I've matured. I've went through shit, shit that's affected me deeply. But despite everything, I'm still here. And that musical was there every step of the way. The story, the characters, the cast... They unconsciously played a big part in my life and I'll never be too thankful.

I've got to meet new people, try different things, discover new incredible artists that I still follow and admire to this day, some that I can proudly call my friends. It helped me get closer to my partner and finally start dating her (almost 2 years and still going babeyyy).

I've got to be part of an incredible, deeply loving community and I'm not planning on going anywhere anytime soon. I like to think the Beetlejuice fandom feels like another home now. I'm not well known within this fandom. Or atleast I don't think I am. I tend to draw more of the human guy than the bug beverage man himself which isn't something everyone is interested in. But still. I feel at peace here.

And I'm so so grateful I got to discover this musical. So so grateful I got to get close to so many people. So so grateful I got to experience the show before it closed. I am absolutely aware of how lucky I was to get to see it not once, but twice in a row. And the LAST DAMN SHOW.

It was a dream come true. It was the momentum I needed before the Broadway run ended. The ending I needed. I'm still sad it closed, I'll always miss the cast and crew videos of Alex and Elizabeth's bows, Kerry's lipbalm taste testing, backstage videos of the actors just being complete dumbasses and having so much fun...

I'll just miss the Broadway cast and crew so much. It doesn't feel the same without them, even with the Tour going on. It feels like a whole different show when it's the same story (with necessary changes), the same songs, the same characters... But the general vibe isn't the same.

I've been relistening to the cast recording a lot now. Appreciating every song instead of just a few ones. Delia quickly became one of my favorite after seeing the last show (If you know, you know. Leslie fucking KILLED it that night). If anything, every character became my favorite. I started loving them all a lot more than before. Understanding them more than ever. Even Beetlejuice himself, although he's the character I've focused on the most for the past two years. I finally feel like I now have a good grasp on his character, something I've always had trouble with for a long time.

So uh... Boy. This is getting long. Long story short... Thank you. Thank you Beetlejuice the Musical. Thank you to the cast, thank you to the crew. Thank you to the wonderful people I got to meet. Thank you to the friends I got to make. Thank you to my dearest partner. This musical has a very special place in my heart now thanks to all of you.

Hey guys? Love you guys. 💚🖤💚🖤💚

As for BJ content? Well... You can bet your asses I ain't fucking done drawing this man. He's gonna be sticking around for a veeeery long time.

[eldritchmochi]

yeah I am pretty young lmao, I'll spare you from another playlist by just naming some artists that gave me inspiration for god knows at some point

first off you mentioned Hozier, which I kinda only mention because he released a new album recently. Arctic Monkeys and Father John Misty are kinda in the same boat as him. More like the same lake.

The Amazing Devil and The Oh Hellos never fail to give me some sort of D&D/character inspiration. Ghost does?? something??? as well with characters, but specific ones. Same with Steam Powered Giraffe.

other than that, Library Magic by The Head And The Heart is very Wizard, along with The Magician by Andy Shauf. and because I just can't go without mentioning it, Queen is my favorite band. :)

that's all! with any luck it'll end up being useful somehow lol

hozier is one of those artists who i dont listen to on purpose like ever i dont thinki could name a single song of his with confidence BUT i know his voice starkly as one i really lusted after pre-t. i saw he just dropped a new album and i HAVE to give it a listen to especially the video of sssomething or other (full album mv??? pLEASE) because it stars domnall gleeson and i am still horny for that man even after all these years (he's the actor for hux for context lmao)

queen is also one of my long time favs, though definitely a band i dont know in and out the way i do with a lot of more modern punk bands lmao. freddie has and always will be Gender (god the video for i want to break free was IT for me in like 8th grade right around when i came out)

ive seen spg live before!! they are *great* experience even if you're not deep into the lore (i had friends who were big lore fans). i have heard precisely One And A Half Ghost Songs and im keeping it that way on purpose because its just sooooooo funny that im not into them because aesthetically they are way up my alley (and one of my sibs, a number of irl buddies, and MANY artists i follow are all nuts for them)

ive some passing familiarity with the artic monkeys, enough that i can pick out a number of their more popular songs on the radio even if i cant name them (i am garbage at song titles tho so)

i'll have to check out the rest, especially good Wizards Songs 👀

in response!! further things to check out:

FUNKY.FM - playlist by alexmoukala who is one of my FAVOURITE video game composers. i know him primarily through twitter where he posts snippets of remixed or reimagined video game music... but FUNKY (this one is particularly relevant to u based of ur playlist shared w me)

ye old spooky club 1995 - playlist by unnerving governess who i am 90% sure is gothic charmschool. i know i got the link thru her but i thiiink she also made it (another playlist that may vibe w u based off your playlist)

creature feature, especially the album "the greatest show unearthed" (ookey spooky rock with a lot of vincent price era horror camp and a lot of really impressive technical skill. i want it to be halloween damnit)

the mind electric by the miracle musical (behold, the essence of the inside of my brain but in tangible form. it is. incredibly ominous. do recommend headphones for max goosebumps (includes a lot of records played backwards type sounds and other distortions))

dance monkey by tones and i (one of my big essek songs since i get a lot of that vibe where he's beholden to his station for *so much* that its a disservice to his growth as a person)

bottom is a rock by mother mother (my m9 as a whole song. the chorus has a line for each of them i stg and if i could reliably draw i would do an old school lyricstuck to it)

my verdict on ur playlist btw is that it is very solid and cohesive a+, but *just* to the left of my tastes, largely because a lot of it skews 70s/80s which just by nature of the beast lacks the bass i like (because it was mixed entirely different compared to modern music, which is better suited for sounding big when played digitally through smaller speakers. ive heard some of these bands on big sound systems and theyre MUCH more in line with my tastes then lmao)

[allqrcoded]

Devlog 5: Where are we headed? + Year end origin stories

Welcome back.

In all seriousness, I don't know how to number these things. Does the counter restart once the game you were talking about last dev log finishes production? Do you just keep on continuing despite now starting a new project? Either way, I'll go on & keep this as is. The year's almost ending and I feel like it's about time to announce the new game I'm working on (as if it weren't obvious that the MCs were revealed in my art blog months ago, but either way...)

With angel care officially being released on July of this year along with into sun&dark being a mini game jam project I sent out within the same time, there left a hole in my heart where handling a big project such as a game cemented itself in. Albeit, working on angel care has been a wild journey to say the least, but throughout it, I found out that telling stories through games allows me to merge the 2 things I love doing (writing & art). If making comics didn't click for me and solely writing a novel makes me worry about the specific character designs that might get lost, then making games is perfect.

Whilst the characters of angel care were solely made out of new OCs, Lucas and Del from sundark were actually repurposed characters from an old story I never completed. The universes weren't exactly the same, but the concept of doomsday remained. Rex from this new project, Descent to Negative Zero, follows the same repurposing. This time, it's about someone who comes back… Again, yes, but that trope is my favorite.

Origin stories

If you've been a follower of my art blog since last year, you might've seen a character I drew during October, Ace, with another character from a fandom I was active in (Daybreak.) He was a submission in a contest, but never got in, so I shelved him for a bit until this year, thinking that I could use him for an RPGMaker game in the future, since I always had the dream to make one (and guess where we are right now...) A bit dismayed because I had a fondness for him at that time, I clung onto that "maybe." And so, he sat there for a while, and eventually, my fondness for him faded away once I got the idea of angel care. Long live his skater boy and bunny motif along with his pink dyed hair.

And, look! Some drafts of the AC trio from last year too. But, moving onto Ace and fast forward to the final stretches of the AC bug-fixing hell...

(^ I remember back then that I really liked this final piece. Sometimes I keep thinking to myself that last year's events were from 2 years ago.)

My mind then drifted to Ace again... Disappearances and mist snatching, huh? Well, disappearing sounds good for a plot point, but I still need to work around the mist thing (Daybreak character entrails he left that I needed to clean up before he's completely separate from it.) The bunny motif and the pink hair were cute too. I wasn't too sure about the skater thing, so I decided to change it.

Long story short, he transformed from a skater to a shoegazer (my projection. I just wanted to include that song genre into this because I love it and for the sake of OST potential too). Kyle (the dude I used to draw him with a lot) needed a replacement too, so thus, his skater boy gene got transferred to Josh, his new best friend. Whilst that whole tangent was a big factor in the repurposing stage, in terms of clothes, Rexosh both wear some items in my closet that I just took and adjusted a bit -- both came from thrift stores, actually! Knowing that, I decided to make them thrifters and have them go to one in an early game flashback.

Right now, I don't have the jacket Josh wears because that's being tailored, but most of the elements are inspired by that.

I won’t spoil too much of the plot, but I will say that it’s connected to one of my previous games. Dt-z almost became a short summer visual novel until sundark came along and replaced it instead. Whilst its main element in the story stayed the same, it turned more puzzle-focused in the end.

Progress report/since when?

Starting up the project during summer, it’s been around four months since I made the first (yes, since it did get corrupted in some instances) RPGMaker file for it. Right now, I’m around coding the mid-point of the game with a bunch of placeholders in the project to get the ball rolling in the coding space since making parallax maps takes a while for me. Dt-z is more visually out there than AC, with the use of shadow overlays and what not. Making them for dozens of maps is a bit tedious (so, that’s why I’m putting that job in the late coding stage), but the end result is stunning.

As I’m writing this, I’ve paused on coding one of the mid-game puzzles. Surprisingly, I get a lot of stuff done in the weekends with this project. Making the solutions for them is a bit time-consuming, yes, but seeing it play out makes it worth it. Unlike AC, I don’t have all the time in the world to work on this game because of IRL matters, etc. So, the fact that I still managed to get a good amount of progress in just 4 months is pretty good. The dialogue doc for this game is also done in areas regarding important cutscenes, including a rough draft of what the end game would be like (right now, it's longer than AC's script page count wise! Maybe that's because I included some flavor text there.) I still have to adjust aspects of the script to keep their situation plausible there, but other than that, it's good. Without any context, here are some screenshots of what the maps look like from October and a recent one I took:

Albeit, I still need to adjust some things accordingly, but since this project is still in its baby stage, I'm not prioritizing that sort of thing right now.

So far, I'm trying to avoid the trend of RPGMaker game puzzles needing to find a key in every room and while puzzle making is a thing I'm not that experienced with, I realized that I took most of my inspiration with them with the games I've been playing these months, Death Mark and Spirit Hunter: NG.

Of course, me picking up those games wasn't because of wanting to take inspiration from them first — I just wanted a way to de-stress, but after a bit, I took some mental notes in my mind. NG's puzzles are very satisfying to solve. Whilst this dev log isn't focused on what games I played for the month, let's just say that I preferred NG over DM for a variety of things.

Moreover, I've been adjusting the endings and the way you get lore tidbits through the story to make the true end of the game pack more of a punch so that by the time you go ending hunting, you won't get dragged down by the same realizations the characters go through. There's a lot of flavor text I have to write, essentially.

Let's talk about themes

Continuing the trend of wanting to explore themes close to my heart in my bigger projects, Dt-z is in the same light with AC. Whilst the mood is entirely different (color palette not so cool/winter, characters being younger, even the premise being puzzle focused), Dt-z's themes were the ones that more or less defined my summers, just like how AC defined my winters (even if where I lived didn't snow, but, nevertheless, the phrasing still sticks).

I like to think that making art, helps me process stuff a bit and that's why I still got an itch in me to take up another big project similar to AC despite me knowing that this year would be busier than the last. I'm remaining vague here to not spoil the entire plot of it, but let's say that I hold the message I want to say through this dear to my heart. There's a lot I want to say regarding these two games (including sundark!), but I want to work on letting my audience make up their own conclusion on the work just based off the content without my involvement.

Albeit, as an artist, I've always had this selfish desire in me to want everyone to get this one conclusion — this one reading on what I worked on because with every piece I make, there's always a message I want to tell. But, through the years, I've gotten to the point where I stopped pseudo-denying the fact that people aren't like that. I've started even enjoying other readings of my work because through them, I get to see more perspectives I haven't even considered whilst keeping the main point in mind. So, let's just say that AC is about death and angels and winter and friendship and love. And with Dt-z, it's about love too because love is just universal.

Thanks for coming

Restraining myself from talking more about Dt-z's details… In summary, I've been enjoying working on this project. Rexosh really are fun to draw & I want to share their story sometime once I'm finished. I want to write more trivia blogs later on with my released games (especially AC because I have a lot to talk about there), but for now, I'll keep on going.

[ascendthisday]

Down On The Farm

gif by veilofmegiddo

Pairing: Richard Fortus/Robin Finck

Word Count: 2,500~

Info: Gay, Boys Being Boys, "Roommates", How Do I Tag, Pet-Play, Lingerie, Animal Play, Animal Ears, literal cowboy, Stockings, Tails, Muscles, Thighs, Tattoos, Overstimulation, Wordcount: Over 1.000, Intimacy, Hand Jobs, Nipple Play, Large Breasts (but in a boy way), Bells, previous orgasm denial

Summary: “I look,” Richard paused as he ran his palms over his ribs, “insane. I look fucking crazy, Robin.”

Authors Note: happy new years!!! this is mostly- if not entirely, inspired by THIS fortus fanart by the dear @4tusmylove like!!! holy fuck!!! his titties!!!! also : title from that one gnr song. anyways, this came out a little more intimate and fluffy and just . sweeter than intended but they're my babies sooo :P anyways, thanks for being patient with me sorry it's been like a month!!! im just busy with life but im getting back into my groove

“I look,” Richard paused as he ran his palms over his ribs, “insane. I look fucking crazy, Robin.” With every small movement he made, the bell around his neck rang out a clicker-clack noise. When he inhaled, it dung. At the smallest turn of his neck, it banged. He couldn’t move without the bronze bringing attention to him. “No. No, you look cute.” Robin grinned from his lazy seat on their shared bed. It was the truth! The main outfit was sickeningly tight, leaving nothing hidden in the soft white fabric. His flag was clearly at half mast already, if you get what I mean, but outside of that- every rippling muscle in his body was clear and sharp. The chest of the leotard was open, leaving his breasts clearly out for the world to see. It regrouped at the neck with a prim white collar met in the middle with a bow and the aforementioned bell.

“Give me a spin, baby.” Robin drawled, drawing circles in the air with his pointer finger. Richard sputtered and fussed, but he obeyed in the end. His feet softly padded against the floor as he gave a slow cautious spin. Robin let out a low whistle as he took in the sight of his lover. As Richard turned, the thin cow tail tacked to his bottom swooshed against his pale skin. “You look so damn sexy.” Robin grinned and gently rose from the bed. The thud of his soft steps was deeply dulled by his socks, which were printed with black spots on a knitted white background that danced up his thighs. “Oh- shut up.” Richard guffawed as he faced Robin once more- this time, his cheeks covered in a scarlet blush.

His arms nervously crossed over his bare chest. The tattoos that normally decorate his arms were covered up to the middle of his bicep, covered by the same print of fabric as his muscular tree trunk legs. “I dunno if I can, not with such a pretty little cow in front of me.” The rockstar grinned, walking up behind Richard and pulling him into his torso. A soft fluttery whine slipped from his lips as he leaned into the man. It wasn’t uncommon for Robin to wander around their flat shirtless- but in this instance, it added so very deeply to their relationship dynamic. They were so different, but the exact same in an odd way. Robin wrapped his arms around the guitarist, swaying the two of them to a nonexistent rhythm. He was always doing this- using his ever-so-fantastic mind to subconsciously create music through the tiniest of actions.

He dragged his hands up across Richard's arms, climbed his shoulders, and rested them upon the beginning of his neck. He didn’t apply any pressure. There was no harm in his actions. He just let them lay there atop the big black bow and push their weight into the cold brass. The man basically purred as he cradled his lover and began to hum into his ear. It was a familiar tune he repeated, one they had performed as a duet many times before. Beautiful, both in the literal naming sense and in a technical sense. He was calculated in his movement, though. Careful not to knock off the headband he had just helped Richard place on his head. Two twin horns jutted out of his black choppy hair, towering over a pair of soft folded ears below them. The unbelievably fluffy pink fabric under the black and white splotched layer on top of it looked impossibly soft, and Robin could easily get lost in the sensation of rubbing them if he would allow himself.

The best part of it all? One little tag pierced into the right ear that proudly read “ROBIN.” It was scribbled in his own messy handwriting, of course.

“You are so goddamn beautiful, you know that? Thank you for doing this for me.” Robin grinned, slowly peeling himself off of him. Richard fussed as he turned to find the man quickly roaming to the bedside table and back. He hadn’t directly seen what the guitarist had grabbed, but everyone knew Robin wasn’t Robin without his camera. “Just sit all pretty for me, please?” He begged, camera in one hand and the other nervously playing with the ends of his big brown waves. Richard stood there and thought about it. Hard. But, hell- you only live once, right? “As long as you promise to keep it to yourself.” He softly smiled while attempting his best seductive walk to the bed. He only had to walk a few steps, but he still strolled with pointed toes and swinging hips.

Robin approached him almost fearfully, palms sweating and a sort of perverted yearning in his features. In a way, everything about the two of them was perverted and they had no shame behind it! It was just in their nature. In a handful of flashes from far too many angles, Robin was finished with his photo shoot. “Yeah- yeah, these are good.” He mumbles, flicking back and forth with the mechanical buttons. “You sound like a total fuckin’ fangirl right now.” Richard snorts, bell ringing out as he was folding one of his legs over the other. “That’s because I am. These are like- amazing. I know you’re loyal to the whole puppy-boy thing but, God- maybe I’ve found your true calling.” He coyly teases, carefully putting his camera down on their dresser.

Their fun had only just begun, but the feeling of lust already sat heavy in the air.

Robin strolled toward him, an air of confidence surrounding him as he approached his lover. Richard was nothing but impressed by his behavior, the usually meek man being turned into this unfamiliar illusion of pride. He stood in front of him, shoulders pushed back and head held high as he gazed down at the flushed man. One of his worn hands carefully floated towards Richard, cupping his head in his large palm. "You look pretty. I think I said that already, but you really do." He grinned and scratched his blunt nails softly against Richard's jaw. He always did shit like that- the smallest signs of intimacy.

Richard let out a low- almost gravely purring sound as he leaned into the guitarist's embrace. Carefully, Robin toed his way around the bed and, in a borderline weightless way, shuffled behind Richard. His folded legs encaged Richards' wide hips. Robin rested his forehead against the slight curve where his lover's spine blends into neck, allowing his slightly greasy black mane to tickle at his skin. He let out shallow hunched breaths- but, he was perfectly calm. “My favorite.” He mumbled, gently holding his thigh and running his fingertips across the bold hem that ran across his femur. “What’s your favorite? My little costume?” Richard snorted through a deep throaty laugh.

“No, you. You’re just- I don’t know how else to say it, my favorite.” Robin stumbled. His normal aura of sexual dominance and confidence was flushed away for a moment of rawness. He was quite the lover and honestly very physically intimate with no shame behind it, but he wasn’t quite the wordsmith that other men were. He preferred to show love in the smaller, less verbal ways- so this bordered on being proposed for Richard. “Oh my God. Hi, yes- you’re my favorite too? I love you so much.” Richard babbled, overcome with such a strange form of pure admiration for his lover. Hell- he was making it hard for him to focus on the outfit when he was just throwing out confessionals like this!

“Thanks.” Robin giggled, tone suddenly much less antsy. Although his face was still blushed and his heart was pounding, he wanted to play! He began to carefully dance his fingers up his body. They cruised against the wide sea of white fabric and paused just below the bloom of his breasts. Everyone who’s anyone knew Richard had big tits, I mean, just look at him! But, very few would acknowledge it to him. Robin would, though. Because, of course he would! Infact, there would be days where he’d grab Richard just before they went on stage and insist that he unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt- you know, to give the girls a little bit of fanservice.

He softly brought up the worn pads of his fingertips to tease around his nipples. Hell, he didn’t even actually touch his areola- just danced around them. Sliding down his fingers, he pulled them back along the bottom line where they meet his ribcage, and pushed forward while beginning to fully cup them. “These are so nice.” Robin grinned. “Thank you.” Richard airly replied, the blush across his cheeks coming out almost verbally. He flexed his clothed arms as he leaned into the little touch Robin graced him with. Robin let one hand slowly wander down toward his groin while keeping the other stationary at his breast.

He gently began to tweak Richards' nipple. It wasn’t painful, but there was a very unique sensation behind it. Really, indescribable in a sense. Like stepping on a Lego but underwater while on ecstasy, almost. The pressure between his fingers grew as he worked closer toward Richard’s cock. It was like the ultimate distraction. He thought everything all at once, yet nothing at the same thing. All of his thought’s rambled in an incoherent rhythm- the kind of rhythm not even Robin could produce. Robin reached between his legs, pushing his torso into his spine, and absorbed the pure warmth radiating off of him. It was lust in the most concentrated way possible.

Roughly, he tugged apart the snaps of his garment that lay hidden between his thighs. It should have brought his attention closer to his cock, but it didn't. Here’s another thing about Richard Fortus- the man’s got unbelievably sensitive nipples! I mean, really, his tits ache like he’s supposed to be breastfeeding something! Robin always held that above his head in their scenes to keep him in a comfortable mushy headspace. His cock fled the tight white fabric like all hell, springing up and plopping against his thigh with shocking vigor.

Robin ignored the sensual part of his brain screaming to tease the hell out of Richard, instead he chose to jump straight into the pure raw sexual part of it all. Foreplay is fun, but they know each other's bodies so impossibly well that they can pinpoint when it’s needed and when it's purely for fun. So, he wrapped his hangs around his cock and gave him a few beginners strokes. That first bit of real contact- God, Richard thought he was dying. “Oh my goodness.” He sputtered, gasping through a moan. “You’re so cute.” Robin grinned as he rubbed quick circles across the bud of his nipple. He peered over his shoulder, still careful to avoid the horned headband, and snickered as he watched the man's thighs tense.

He had been given so little- so few sensations to work off of, and yet he teetered closer to the edge by the second. Why? Because they had been playing this game for a while. Robin would dance circles around him and keep him just on the precipice of success, and then stop touching him entirely. He had done it for the last week or so, and Richard couldn’t handle much more. But, it was so incredibly fun, in a morbid way. “You’re gonna kill me.” Richard huffed out, sweat beading through his bangs. Robin just hummed and continued to flick his wrist. Occasionally, he’d lose tempo and punish Richard by clamping down on his nipple just a little harder- in a good way.

“Robin, ‘m not joking. If you keep going, I’m gonna come.” He chewed out his words through euphoric babbling. There’s this sort of itch that only Robin can scratch inside of him- an itch that’ll never be solved by anyone else's hands. He pushes him to a level of unimaginable euphoria. Every. Single. Time. Robin wordlessly continued to pump away at his cock. It was a sort of silent permission Richard could only assume and hope for the best, because there was no way he could possibly hold back.

There's not enough words invented to describe the adrenaline speeding through his veins as he comes. It hurts- his nipple hurts, but it's such a good hurt. It's bursting pressure coursing throughout every ounce of his being and it's so amazingly too much. He doesn't get to come down. No, Robin doesn't allow him to. He continues to jerk him off until Richard is gasping for air and desperately trying to writhe out of his grasp. Then, he lets go. Richard borderline collapses as he heaves for air, tears unbeknownst to him previously dropping onto the sheets. He's not sad, though. He's so very happy and just overwhelmed with tears. Proof of a good orgasm, really. If there's any drug in the world he craved, it was Robin's touch.

"You okay?" Robin mumbles against the shell of his ear, carefully wrapping his arms around his midsection. He wasn't sure how long it took for him to come down from his high, whether it was minutes or weeks. But, when he did he was filled with a wide appreciation for his lover. Robin didn't demand to get off after him, he never did, instead he busied himself with caring for the hazed man. Richard tiredly nodded, almost too exhausted to keep his head up. "Wicked," He smiled, "do you want me to take this off?" Robin asked as he plucked at the white bodysuit. "I'll keep it on, for now." Richard slurred. "Well, alright. Whatever floats your boat, but can I atleast take off the ears?" He asked, careful not to pop that bubble of post-orgasm serenity.

He, with the most feathery touch he could muster, slipped off the soft headband and discarded to their slightly messy floor. That was a problem for another day. "Do you want me to clean you up right now? We could just lay- if you want, of course." He questioned, knowing even if they laid together now that he'd still end up sneaking out of bed to get a rag and clean off his lover soon enough. "Just lay with me, please." Richard spoke just above a whisper. Robin didn't reply, instead he just pulled him into the plush bed with him and stayed there. His big waves of hair created magnificent swirls and patterns of halos around their heads. He didn't mean to, but soon enough the soft bubbling breaths of Richard succumbing to sleep had him dozing off as well. Maybe he could clean him up in the morning.

This was true peace. Just the two of them, always and forever.

[chrisryanspeaks]

Interview with Personal Trainer

We had the chance to interview the incredibly talented Willem Smit about his band and the upcoming music. Check out our full interview below: 1. Can you share the story behind the formation of your band? What challenges (if any) do you face with rotating band mates? Before Personal Trainer started, I was in another band called Canshaker Pi. When a band was going for a while and more people got involved, I think I started to take the songwriting and music-making process a little more seriously. Things started to take longer to be a finalized product, which meant there was a lot more thinking involved. Personal Trainer started as a name on bandcamp where I would throw stuff I recorded online, without being too picky. I "released" a bunch of EPs and I had a little project where I made three records in three days. This was very freeing and fast-paced. Then I decided I wanted something similar live. I would ask a handful of people to play some simple songs with me without rehearsing too much. This slowly changed in a line-up with rotating band members, as in bars and at shows I would ask lots of people if they wanted to join my band. Casper van der Lans, who played bass in the band, convinced me to start recording and putting out the music too. The big challenge of the rotating members for me was that, in the end, most people wouldn't rehearse too much, but I would rehearse with a lot of different people. I was looking for spontaneity, and found out that I was getting a little busy going through songs with different people, on top of writing, recording and putting out the music, doing all the planning, and booking all the shows. The production of the songs changed too: they weren't two or three chord songs anymore, they got more and more layered, so it was great to have a slightly more set version of the live band, where everyone was a little more involved with how we'd approach things live. I think the songs basically asked for a set group. 2. Could you walk us through your songwriting process on “Intangible”? What inspired this track? For intangible I had come up with a chorus before anything else, which rarely happens. I bounce a lot of material I make on to a soundcloud link and sometimes listen to it while cycling through Amsterdam, to hopefully get some ideas for the songs. I had a fragment of about 15 seconds of the chorus to intangible, with gibberish lyrics on my phone for about a year, together with a revolving cast of about 30 song ideas, and at some point I heard it and thought: I should finish this. I worked a while on how the bass and tempo should be. I remember I wanted to go for a slightly slower version, with thinner, drier drums and I wanted the bass to sound a bit more like what I'd heard from Thundercat. Really into "untitled 03" and hits like "King Kunta" by Kendrick Lamar at the time. There was some Dutch pop bands and stuff like Justin Timberlake too that inspired me a little. After trying out a lot of things I decided to ask band mates Kick Kluiving and Ruben van Weehberg to record the bass and drums to some songs with me and co-producer Casper van der Lans. Production wise we kind of restarted a bit from there and it turned into the finished product 3. Who are your biggest musical influences, and how do they shape your sound? When I was 16 I listened to a lot of Pavement, early Beck, The Breeders, Ought, Gilla band and Scram C Baby, and I think that stuff will always be floating around somewhere. I think over time I've become a little less judgemental about music on first listen. I hope I've become a little more patient listener with "open ears" or whatever, and I try and see the good things about songs or artists that I would maybe write off quite quickly before. It feels like I can draw inspiration from a lot of different sounds, which feels good. I decided I'm not scared to lose the cohesion by making different sounding songs, because I believe it will probably make sense as a whole, coming from the same brain. 4. What message or impact do you hope to convey with your music? I think I have no clear message, I like to make music. My main concern is that I'm happy with what I make, which is really hard. Maybe it's getting even increasingly hard! That occupies most space in my head. It feels like there's no room for what I'd want other people to hear when they listen to it. While making music I do try and think about what I would personally think I'd hear when I hear a song for the first time, as well as on my twentieth listen. I would like for as many people as possible to hear the records and watch the shows. The dream would be that enough people will buy tickets to shows and buy the records so I can keep making records and playing shows. Visit Personal Trainer Check out “Intangible” below:   Read the full article

[audiofuzz]

Interview with Personal Trainer

We had the chance to interview the incredibly talented Willem Smit about his band and the upcoming music. Check out our full interview below: 1. Can you share the story behind the formation of your band? What challenges (if any) do you face with rotating band mates? Before Personal Trainer started, I was in another band called Canshaker Pi. When a band was going for a while and more people got involved, I think I started to take the songwriting and music-making process a little more seriously. Things started to take longer to be a finalized product, which meant there was a lot more thinking involved. Personal Trainer started as a name on bandcamp where I would throw stuff I recorded online, without being too picky. I "released" a bunch of EPs and I had a little project where I made three records in three days. This was very freeing and fast-paced. Then I decided I wanted something similar live. I would ask a handful of people to play some simple songs with me without rehearsing too much. This slowly changed in a line-up with rotating band members, as in bars and at shows I would ask lots of people if they wanted to join my band. Casper van der Lans, who played bass in the band, convinced me to start recording and putting out the music too. The big challenge of the rotating members for me was that, in the end, most people wouldn't rehearse too much, but I would rehearse with a lot of different people. I was looking for spontaneity, and found out that I was getting a little busy going through songs with different people, on top of writing, recording and putting out the music, doing all the planning, and booking all the shows. The production of the songs changed too: they weren't two or three chord songs anymore, they got more and more layered, so it was great to have a slightly more set version of the live band, where everyone was a little more involved with how we'd approach things live. I think the songs basically asked for a set group. 2. Could you walk us through your songwriting process on “Intangible”? What inspired this track? For intangible I had come up with a chorus before anything else, which rarely happens. I bounce a lot of material I make on to a soundcloud link and sometimes listen to it while cycling through Amsterdam, to hopefully get some ideas for the songs. I had a fragment of about 15 seconds of the chorus to intangible, with gibberish lyrics on my phone for about a year, together with a revolving cast of about 30 song ideas, and at some point I heard it and thought: I should finish this. I worked a while on how the bass and tempo should be. I remember I wanted to go for a slightly slower version, with thinner, drier drums and I wanted the bass to sound a bit more like what I'd heard from Thundercat. Really into "untitled 03" and hits like "King Kunta" by Kendrick Lamar at the time. There was some Dutch pop bands and stuff like Justin Timberlake too that inspired me a little. After trying out a lot of things I decided to ask band mates Kick Kluiving and Ruben van Weehberg to record the bass and drums to some songs with me and co-producer Casper van der Lans. Production wise we kind of restarted a bit from there and it turned into the finished product 3. Who are your biggest musical influences, and how do they shape your sound? When I was 16 I listened to a lot of Pavement, early Beck, The Breeders, Ought, Gilla band and Scram C Baby, and I think that stuff will always be floating around somewhere. I think over time I've become a little less judgemental about music on first listen. I hope I've become a little more patient listener with "open ears" or whatever, and I try and see the good things about songs or artists that I would maybe write off quite quickly before. It feels like I can draw inspiration from a lot of different sounds, which feels good. I decided I'm not scared to lose the cohesion by making different sounding songs, because I believe it will probably make sense as a whole, coming from the same brain. 4. What message or impact do you hope to convey with your music? I think I have no clear message, I like to make music. My main concern is that I'm happy with what I make, which is really hard. Maybe it's getting even increasingly hard! That occupies most space in my head. It feels like there's no room for what I'd want other people to hear when they listen to it. While making music I do try and think about what I would personally think I'd hear when I hear a song for the first time, as well as on my twentieth listen. I would like for as many people as possible to hear the records and watch the shows. The dream would be that enough people will buy tickets to shows and buy the records so I can keep making records and playing shows. Visit Personal Trainer Check out “Intangible” below:   Read the full article

[allinmycorner]

I remember going home when I was in middle school, grabbing a snack and then settling down to watch TRL to see what the top videos were for that day. I was a big Backstreet Boy fan so I always cheered for them to be on the list and hoped they were number one. But I loved watching the music videos and I also loved Pop-Up video, where they would put facts either about the song, the video or just some fun trivia (like popping up a fact about how most people in Africa are Muslim so they don't celebrate Christmas during the video for "Do They Know It's Christmas?").

So I was pretty excited for this theme night.

Paula Abdul joined the panel to judge the remaining stars as they danced routines inspired by some iconic music videos. They were tasked to incorporate the dance moves from the videos while remaining true to the dance style assigned to them. And then in the second round, we had the team dances.

Who is still standing after Music Video Night and who had to say Bye, Bye, Bye? Find out!

Lele and Brandon: Lele had a great night and Brandon was right that she didn't deserve to go home. It looks like the judges agreed - I caught Derek mouthing "Wow" after her elimination and then he and a concerned-looking Bruno had a pow-wow. She was assigned to dance to Shakira's "Whenever, Wherever" and rose to the challenge, letting her hips do the talking. Yes, she her lifts were a little clunky but everything else was amazing. She should've made it further but I'm glad she made as far as she did. We'll miss you, Lele.

Ariana and Pasha: This is likely to become another iconic routine. Ariana really channeled Britney for her cha-cha to "I'm a Slave 4 U" and I think incorporated the classic moves best into her cha-cha. She really did nail the middle where she led the pros in the routine from the video. Everyone was absolutely on point and Ariana looked like a pro herself. No wonder she topped the leaderboard and earned immunity from the dance off next time!

Xochitl and Val: Xochitl talked about directing a music video for a friend and how it was a great experience. She and Val then did a jazz routine to Gwen Stefani's "Hollaback Girl" and she handled it well until she had a little malfunction with her costume. She struggled to put on the replica of Stefani's band coat and her hat fell off. But she seemed to recover nicely to finish the routine, though the stumble did cost her some points with the judges.

Charity and Artem: I was a bit surprised Charity ended up in the bottom three but I think it might be the jolt she needs. The judges gave her some good critiques for her jazz routine to Janet Jackson's "All for You" but I don't know if she can achieve the one thing she needs to really elevate her performances - have an emotional connection rather than just focusing on being technically perfect. All the female pros spent time with her and had a brunch with her but I don't know if it's something you can teach. Paula talked about how Janet Jackson tapped into her inner power and channeled that, which is what Charity needs to do. I just don't know if she can.

Jason and Daniella: I don't know why Derek thought Jason's routine was more of a Week 1 or 2 dance. I thought it was great. One of the judges noted it was a proper jazz routine and I thought it felt like something that would be performed on Broadway. Jason and Daniella really captured the feel of "Take On Me" and still made it feel fresh and new. I think they should've been higher.

Alyson and Sasha: I think Charity needs to learn from Alyson. While Alyson isn't the most technical dancer, there is something about her ability to connect with the music that elevates them. I could tell she was having fun with her quickstep to Christina Aguilera's "Candyman" and she let that give her energy to tackle the dance. And it shone through in her performance, drawing people in. That's what Charity needs to tap into and channel to elevate her performances.

Barry and Peta: Barry's reaction to seeing Bruno in the video for Elton John's "I'm Still Standing" was priceless. I loved it. He also had a lot of fun with his quickstep, much like Peta. There were times where it didn't feel very "quick" but I'm not sure if that was due to the music or Barry. Because when he did step it up, he handled it well and made the routine shine. Either way, it was pretty fun to watch - especially when he got to shower Bruno with some glitter.

Harry and Rylee: Harry and Rylee were assigned to dance a jazz routine to NSYNC's "It's Gonna Be Me" so Lance Bass stopped by to give Harry some tips and to help with the choreography. During the routine, Harry was strongest when dancing the video choreography with Gleb and Alan but didn't carry that confidence over when he was dancing with Rylee. There's more to say about Harry but I'll wait for the team dances.

Now it's time for the team dances! Harry and Alyson were appointed the team captains. Harry chose Lele, Xochitl and Charity for his team and they were assigned Gangnam Style as their song. So they chose to name themselves Team Young 'N Style since everyone on the team were younger members of the competition. Meanwhile, Alyson's team included Jason, Ariana and Barry and they were assigned "Everybody (Backstreet's Back)" for their song. So they decided to call themselves Team 4 Everybody.

Team Young 'N Style: This was a fun routine to watch. Everyone was in sync and rose to the challenge. I believe Lele and Brandon had the strongest solo portion and it just highlighted how much of a shame it was that they were eliminated. Derek noted afterwards that Harry is better in a group than solo and I have to agree. He was strongest when everyone danced together but was weak in his solo portion. Unfortunately, I don't think he and Rylee can just dance in a group until the end of the competition so he needs to figure out how to bring that to his solo routines.

Team 4 Everybody: It was another fun routine though maybe not as tight as Team Young 'N Style's. Jason, Alyson and Ariana had strong solo sections while Barry's was the weakest. But they clearly had a lot of fun together and I think Alyson really stepped up as the team captain. I also loved the end where they all switched partners and danced in same sex couples. And I loved how much of a Backstreet fan Ariana is that she nearly collapsed in tears when AJ McLean walked into the room to give them some pointers in rehearsal. Same, Ariana, same.

And Music Video Night is in the books. I wonder after a string of unexpected eliminations - Mira, Mauricio and now Lele - if the producers are considering bringing back the judges' save. Or maybe we'll go the entire season without it. Right now, I feel I could only understand Alyson possibly winning it all as she has been the most improved dancer in my opinion. But I guess we'll see what happens next time.

Speaking of next time, Billy Porter will be the guest judge as the remaining couples dance to the music of the one and only Whitney Huston. Can't wait to share my thoughts on those performances as well as the dance off!

See you then!

[djmossback]

Spacebar 10/21/23

Third Space Saturday

Tasting Notes:

I’ve been on vacation from my day job all this week. So I ostensibly had more time than usual to prepare, but I was spending it going through the detritus that had built up over the last 29 years of homeowning, child raising, earning a living and being a closet hoarder. And record collector. Is there really a difference? Yes and no. It’s nice to have this archive to draw from, but it’s so out of control that I lose track. I’m not sure if that is a minus. It certainly makes the sets interesting. My friend Andy, in an excerpt from his unpublished book “Extinct-Ophonics,” 1) describes it as “accumulation,” not “collecting,” and this certainly applies to me and my process. I try to exist on the edge of knowledge and discovery. Of exploration and storytelling, even if the story writes itself. I am continually in awe of other people’s creations, and I try to honor them. Even though some things are amusing to me, it’s definitely not a joke. I genuinely like what I play.

I did manage to show up on time and not cause a lot of chaos doing it. Elevator worked for me, so I didn’t get trapped in it like last time. I was greeted almost immediately by the 36th St. Crew: S8n and Geneva, Leah and Airman Mike. It was great to see them there. They are family. And, instead of me playing records at the party like I used to, I did it in public. My son Sam and his person Maddy, along with a couple of other friends, came by later. And stayed late, too.

I started with the Shannon cut I wrote about last month, but did not go back to the compilation it came from again, even though I left “Easy Lover” out of the crate in favor of “Sususudio,” which I didn’t end up playing. I had so many new 12” records to get to. The set cruised pretty well, and I felt good. Technically, it was the best I’ve performed since I started working as a DJ again. I did struggle with the sound, which Julie came up and helped with. I am so grateful to her. She is a great person to work with.

The highlight of the early crowd were the people who came in dressed up in old people costumes. S8n came up and asked me how it felt being in an episode of “Golden Girls.” I told him they were so much fun. Door person Samson told me that he thought it was a mixture of actual old people and young people pretending to be old. Whatever, I thought they were great.

As a matter of fact, all the crowds that filtered through were really great to play for. I apologized to the listener who requested “Pinball Wizard.” I don’t play requests, but I would have played that. Going to look for a 7”. I asked her which version, and she said “Oh, the original.” It follows that a DJ playing an arcade would have that song. My bad.

Things flowed well. I managed to establish a good vibe, and did the things that I do well, better than usual. Maybe I’m more confident, perhaps having loved ones in attendance helped, I don’t know. I played a few tracks that got Tavis dancing behind the bar, which is always inspiring. I threw in some reggae tracks that flowed nicely. I’m not a genre DJ, which I don’t have enough discipline to do, or interest in doing in the first place. I was having such a good time that I forgot to enter the tracks in my log; I think I reconstructed things right, but who knows. You get the drift.

The big moment was when Sean Patton and David Cross came into the bar. Will had invited them, and they included us in their post-show downtown crawl. Will instructed Cyberjewel to play the track “Do They Know It’s Halloween?” by the North American Hallowe’en Prevention Initiative. It was a surprise, and I of course, being a disorganized old, didn’t have a clue what it was about. Jules got it on YouTube, and I wedged it in after the OMD>Closer>NORF NORF combo. Mr. Cross came up and asked me where I found it, and I pointed to Julie. I felt like a total dweeb. I just looked it up, and found out it came out in 2005, and promptly ordered a vinyl copy to have in the crate; it may prove useful next to Band Aid in the Christmas Mix. The celebs bailed after that. I can’t believe we pulled it off, frankly, although if I had mixed the record in, it would have sounded better.

TommyTime came in after the Blonde Redhead show, stayed for the Bush Tetras track, and then left. “Someone’s got to open the store tomorrow!” Hashtag Tommy Time.

I managed to pick up where I left off, and put on the Bob Seger cut “Ramblin’ Gamblin’ Man,” which just thunders. Great drum sound. The remainder of the night was a good representation of what I’m trying to do when everything works, cutting back and forth across the decades. One of the good things about the “blob of information” 2) is that surprisingly, people are open to things outside the mainstream, which doesn’t really exist anymore anyway.

I was feeling so inspired that I tacked an extra hour onto the set, starting with the Gorillaz cut. I was trying out some things that I had just acquired, putting some contemporary artists next to old pop records and seeing how things worked together.

I ended promptly at 0200. Packed up my stuff, wiped down the surfaces and got out of the bar staff’s hair. Just a really great night.

Thank you. Next Third Space Saturday is November 18th, 2023. Drop in if you can.

1) Interested readers can read the full excerpt in Maggot Brain #14, available at Third Man Records. Hopefully, someone will put this book out soon. It is brilliant.

2) Another quote from my man Andy. Really, you should pick up the latest issue of Maggot Brain if you haven’t already. I know print is horribly passe, but then again, so are vinyl records. Right Lefsetz?

The Track List

2100

Let The Music Play, Shannon (LP cut)

Let’s Dance, David Bowie (12” single)

Kiss You All Over, Exile (7” single)

War Ina Babylon, Max Romeo (LP cut)

I’ve Been Thinking About You, LondonBeat (12” single)

Rise, Herb Alpert (12” single)

The Magnificent Seven, The Clash (7” single)

Pressure Drop, The Maytals (LP cut)

The Things That Dreams Are Made Of, Human League (LP cut)

Outstanding, Gap Band (LP cut)

Things We Do For Love, 10CC (7” single)

Let It Whip, Dazz Band (7” single)

Whip It, DEVO (7” single)

Word Up, Cameo (12” single)

Every 1’s A Winner, Hot Chocolate (LP cut)

Pumped Up Kicks, Foster The People (LP cut)

Hippychick, SOHO (12” single)

Jive Talkin’, Bee Gees (7” single)

Rock With You, Michael Jackson (7” single)

Got To Be Real, Cheryl Lynn (7” single)

Couldn’t Get It Right, Climax Blues Band (7” single)

Roxanne, The Police (7” single)

Crazy Little Thing Called Love, Queen (7” single)

Drivin’ My Life Away, Eddie Rabbit (7” single)

Wanderer, Donna Summer (7” single)

Can’t Get Blue Monday Out Of My Head, Kylie Minogue (12” single)

Meaning Of Love, Depeche Mode (12” single)

Knock On Wood, Amii Stewart (12” single)

Walking The Dog, Rufus Thomas (7” single)

Cheap Sunglasses, ZZ Top (LP cut)

Too Many Creeps, Bush Tetras (7” single)

Scratchcard Lanyard, Dry Cleaning (7” single)

Joan Of Arc, O.M.D (12” single)

Closer, Nine Inch Nails (LP cut)

Norf Norf, Vince Staples (LP cut)

Some track that we played for David Cross, who came up and asked me where I found it.

Ramblin’ Gamblin’ Man, Bob Seger System (LP cut)

Give It Up Or Turnit A Loose, James Brown (7” single)

DO THE DU, A Certain Ratio (12” single)

Pick Up The Pieces, Average White Band (LP cut)

Fire-Eater, Rusty Bryant (LP cut)

Only So Much Oil In The Ground, Tower Of Power (LP cut)

Boogie Oogie Oogie, Taste Of Honey (LP cut)

Pressure, Ari Lennox (LP cut)

Dirty Rat, Orbital (LP cut)

West End Girls, Pet Shop Boys (12” single)

Dancing With Myself, Gen X (7” single)

Ex’s & Oh’s, Elle King (LP cut)

Black Sap Scriptures, Plague Vendor (LP cut)

Hair Of The Dog, Nazareth (LP cut)

Walk This Way, RUN-D.M.C. (12” single)

What’s Inside A Girl?, The Cramps (12” single)

The Futures So Bright I Gotta Wear Shades, Timbuk 3 (LP cut)

Pay To Cum, Bad Brains (7” single)

Blood Of The Prophets, Max Romeo (LP cut)

Them Changes, Thundercat (LP cut)

YAH, Kendrick Lamar (LP cut)

America’s Most Blunted, Madvillain (12” single)

She’s Crafty, Beastie Boys (LP cut)

Charley Says! (Roller Boogie Baby), King Tim III (LP cut)

Clint Eastwood, Gorillaz (12” single)

Declaration Of Rights, Abyssinians (LP cut)

Promises, Promises, Naked Eyes (7” single)

blue bones (deathwish,) billy nomates (LP cut)

This Life, Kendra Morris (7” single)

Genius Of Love, Tom Tom Club (12” single)

Uptown Top Ranking, Althea and Donna (LP cut)

Down By The River, PJ Harvey (7” single)

Keep Your Fingers Out The Jam, Fatback (Tribute to IGA) (LP cut)

Time (Clock Of The Heart,) Culture Club (7” single)

Magic, Olivia Newton John (7” single)

Remembering Me, Cate le Bon (LP cut)

Ms. Fat Booty, Mos Def (12” single)

Money Ain’t A Thing, Jay Z w/ Jermaine Dupre (LP cut)

Madison Time, Ray Bryant Combo (LP cut)

Pipeliners Blues, Moon Mullican (LP cut)

Say Man, Bo Diddley (LP cut)

Hang ‘em High, Booker T (LP cut)

0200

[biglisbonnews]

BABYNYMPH Bites Back Harder With 'Ice' At the intersection of militant hyper-femininity and ironic, performative masculinity lies the warped world of BABYNYMPH. Drawing on the sounds of deconstructed club, slut pop, Ibiza summer hits and SoundCloud rap, the rising talent has been quickly making moves in the hyperpop sphere, collaborating with the likes of Chase Icon, Basside and famously garnering a remix from the late great SOPHIE for single "clown shit" — and she's just getting started.Related | SOPHIE Sends BAYLI and BABYNYMPH's 'clown shit' Up the WallNow, BABYNYMPH is back with the lead single "Ice" off her forthcoming debut EP Pornopop - Abhorrence​, and she's going right for the jugular. Featuring a screaming UK bass-inspired bassline and screaming vocals, the track sees BABYNYMPH unleashing her full fury on an adrenaline-pumping instrumental with frenzied threats to "fuck you with a knife" for a manic, sexually-charged atmosphere. It's a song that you'll want to rage and throw hands to every time it comes on in the club.The first release off of BABYNYMPH's own independent label KUNTHOUSE, the forthcoming EP is set to explore themes of dysphoria, fear, aggression and how sexual trauma can impact sexuality, reclaiming those experiences and turning them into something positive. Finding refuge in the catharsis of the club, BABYNYMPH injects a sense of fun into her music in a big fusion of genres that sees the artist delivering serve after serve.Ahead of the PAPER premiere of "Ice" we caught up with BABYNYMPH to talk about the single, her upcoming EP and what's next for the artist.What was the inspiration for “Ice?”The main inspiration behind “Ice” was to create an aggressive “don’t fuck with me” type of anthem after going through a very negative sexual experience. I wanted to channel beast energy, making a clear statement that I bite back and I bite harder. An “Arm the Dolls” theme song in a way.What was the writing process for “Ice” like?I came up with the lyrics spontaneously while just playing around in a studio in Berlin. I wrote the beat first. At the moment I have been dealing with a lot of anger and negative emotions related to a recent unfortunate event. So I just tried to experiment with my vocals, pushing them to the limit and going full-on rage mode. It was not necessarily meant to make it to the final cut, but I ended up loving it so much, I made the decision to fully dive into that cutthroat and unapologetically literal, aggressive manic direction. The recording process itself has been more of a fun little silly play-around moment. Basically, random fun ideas accidentally turned into a very fitting lyrical context, refreshing the BABYNYMPH sound. There was also something very appealing about sounding as masculine and hysterical as possible on that record. I can serve you a hyper-femme doll with a bro attitude. I can serve you dyke with the most bimbo attitude ever. All these social tribes and binary behaviors are being taken too seriously and come with way too many expectations for something that is just a construction of humanity practically not based on any logical factors. I’m over it. I’m all of that.What do you hope people take away from the track?Honestly just go the fuck off to it, it’s a banger (lol) and, of course, to not mess up with the dolls.How do you see “Ice” fitting into the overall EP?Even though the execution of the track is an upbeat, fun and stupid expression of aggression, It is following the overall theme of the EP — expressing my associations with the violent aspects of sexual acts, a reflection of my own ways of coping and losing trust, which leads to being in a constant self-defense mode, which sometimes can totally limit the amount of potential positive experiences because you instantly exclude the chance for a graceful interaction. I always like to add fun factors in everything though, you can get the meaning and relate, you might not understand shit and just vibe to the music in the clubs. Both are fine with me.For the uninitiated, how would you describe BABYNYMPH?"Cunt."What does the future hold for BABYNYMPH?The whole EP is going to be released next month via my own independent label “KUNTHOUSE”. I wanted to have full control of whatever I do creatively without any limits or potential censorship, as I believe that no art should be censored. I want to create a whole universe and an ecosystem around my concepts, ideas and vision. I am very collaborative by nature as well, so including my friends and exchanging ideas collectively to come up with something even more exciting just makes the most sense to me. This is how cultural progress is being done. Gatekeeping is giving insecurity to me.Photo courtesy of BABYNYMPH https://www.papermag.com/babynymph-ice-2659606776.html

[coghive]

iNTELLECT and Procyse Are Challenging Listners To Look At "The Big Picture"

“We destroy arguments and every lofty opinion raised against the knowledge of God, and take every thought captive to obey Christ,” 2 Corinthians 10:5 When we are transformed by the truth, we can no longer attempt to adhere to the views of the world. We now understand there is a larger purpose that demands both reverence and submission. As our hearts are changed, the narrow scope that is seen by the flesh is not able to satisfy the Spirit within us. Faith-based hip hop artists iNTELLECT (Ohio) and Procyse (Colorado) are raising a banner with their latest single, The Big Picture. “Seeing the big picture has been the sole reason behind what we do,” explains iNTELLECT. “God gives us a different perspective on everything. He provides us with purpose.” Procyse added, “We have been called to make an impact and this single is another step in that direction.” DJ Navin Johnson joins the boom bap duo adding his signature cuts to the production by F-Plus. The Big Picture hits digital music platforms on January 27, 2023. The Big Picture - iNTELLECT and Procyse https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uSul2E8qDkc Support iNTELLECT: Instagram | Facebook | Website Procyse: Instagram Song Details Title: The Big Picture Artists: iNTELLECT, Procyse Release Date: January 27, 2023 Production: F-Plus Engineering: iNTELLECT Feature: DJ Navin Johnson About Procyse Denver artist Procyse has always been inspired by the need to convey truth via music. Procyse boldly combines his heart for the gospel with his music in an effort to spread hope among the hopeless through a gritty boom bap sound. About iNTELLECT With a distinct flow, iNTELLECT has used his gift to spread the message of salvation through faith in Jesus Christ to areas throughout the Midwest. Drawing his inspiration from the Gospel and life experience, iNTELLECT combines biblically sound doctrine with hip hop beats. “Being that I grew up in a home with a Christian mother and an alcoholic father, my mother has been one of the most influential persons in my life. I watched how she constantly prayed for my father (who eventually came to salvation before his death) and I became a firsthand witness on how faith and prayer can change the direst of situations. I watched how she studied the Word of God and how she passionately lived the Christian life while I was growing up. Even though at times I had strayed away from the path, she always told me that God had a plan for my life. Her influence has helped me see the importance of not only living a life of integrity but also to present myself to God as one approved, a worker who does not need to be ashamed and who correctly handles the word of truth (2 Tim. 2:15).” ? Music and the Message have always been a passion for iNTELLECT. “I’ve always loved hip hop music; the beats, the lyrics, the whole nine. But at the end of the day, if it’s not God-inspired, it’s powerless.” And recognizing the call to share his faith, iNTELLECT continues to use his talents and gifts to reach a lost generation. Read the full article

[mr-no-life]

History and Music.

HI! Wow it feels like forever since I made a new post here. I had a whole elaborate idea of reviewing my favorite things for the month of August, but life had other plans. So, Fall is finally upon us and to the general U.S that means Halloween is around the corner (even though in my mind October is the spooky season). So, now that being said, let’s discuss something a bit different, Bards and War. 

Back in June one of the albums I had reviewed (and quite liked) was The War to End all Wars by Sabaton and it got me thinking. Throughout history there has always been “the Bard '' someone to sing a song about events long past. Wherever there is a story to tell, big or small, someone is there to record it for future generations. As long as humans could speak, we have sought out ways to preserve our history. Whether you are William Shakespeare or you just happened to be in the right place at the wrong time, there have been (and always will be) people writing history. Events in history have often been a driving force for a lot of artists. Let’s look at the 60s through the 80s for instance. The political climate (and the fallout thereof) has given light to a lot of classic pieces we know and love today (Fortunate Son by Creedence Clearwater Revival comes to mind with this). The difference with this and bands like Sabaton is that those songs are made in the moment and are made in reflection of the time, but what about the events that happened before “The Modern Era”? The allure of bygone eras and the mystery shrouded  events that leave us wondering “So what actually happened?” have always been a siren call for artists and musicians. The ups and downs of human history are essentially ripe for the picking when  it comes to interpretations. Books, poems, news articles and more have always been a healthy starting spot for those who wish to draw inspiration from them. 

Now, you are probably wondering, “Why and how does a tangent about Bards and war have to do with music and sound design??” Well, the way I see it, music is just poetry with a musical arrangement. Music is a very effective and flexible storytelling mechanism. Not only is it a creative way to explain something that could be absolutely boring to some people, but you also ignite curiosity in those who wish to dive deeper. Or can make an excellent companion piece for a much bigger project. But, the point of this long-winded tangent is that a lot of music today really started out as ways to share stories of days past or to express one’s opinion on a current event that will grab someone’s attention. 

Now it would be very easy to dive into character designs of Bards from the media (I'm thinking of one Jaskier from the Witcher comes to mind) but that is not my place to talk. Instead, I am going to explain how a Power metal band from Sweden and a Black metal band from Ukraine (honestly at this point if I mention anything about Ukraine it is nothing political) have in common when it comes to sharing history. 

Let’s start with a brief explanation of the bands in question. Hailing from Sweden and with bangers like “To Hell and Back” and “Primo Victoria” you’ve by no doubt heard of Sabaton. Amassing a nice little niche of metal-heads and history nerds (of which I am both) albeit they do cover some deep topics (such as everyone’s favorite angry mustachio man) it is largely in a lively entertaining fashion. When compared to Ukrainian based Black/Death metal band 1914, shit gets HEAVY. 1914 is actually a more recent discovery and the main inspiration behind this piece. They mainly focus on the atrocities of World War 1 (hence the name) and whew boy, if their goal was to make you uncomfortable, well congrats, they did it in spades.  The Great War (released in 2019) and the 2022 follow up The War to End all Wars are not Sabaton’s first dip into WW1 history. These two albums focus primarily on bringing to light some small details that most people may not have known about a war largely forgotten about. The effectiveness is almost hard to describe because I often find myself digging deeper into these events. This leads back to what I mentioned earlier, music is an effective delivery system to have a nice summary about something, even if the event is tragic and depressing. Speaking of depression, the band 1914 is essentially (the way I like to describe it) “Sabaton but more gritty.” Tone also affects a song’s delivery as well and they nail the dark horrors of war to a T.  Hell, the  lead singer  has a bayonetted  rifle as a microphone stand  (nothing to nit pick,  just aesthetically on point). I have not  heard a  whole lot  about  them, but I have heard  bits from their latest album Where Fear and Weapons Meet and woof it’s a hard  listen to. I'm not a Black metal fan by default, but I can see where fans may like this. 

So what is the overall conclusion? Well, in short , if it were not for History, we would not have people (like Bards) to sing about them. 

This was an odd topic to try and write out, so if it seems all over the place and a bit short I apologize, next month (which is soon yikes) will be more on par with  the technical side of music. This month I wanted  to experiment  with  a little more freeform history. Maybe down the road we will revisit this topic again. Until then, I hope you enjoyed this and  I hope to see you again next time. If  you have any questions or care to  support me click the  like  HERE for  links to social media and donations.

Stay Safe 😊