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lustbile-archive · 4 years

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Hey, Bartender!

YutaxReader

Word Count: 4.3k

Summary/Warnings: The usual for this series. Smut Yuta and Reader are complete strangers. Sharp object play, blood play, and semi public. Yuta just being generally suspicious at times.

This is a part of my Club X series. The other works can be found in the masterlist Here

(I recommend reading the other works to get a better idea of how club x works)

Maybe it wasn’t in your best interest to wander over to this side of town in the first place.

It definitely wasn’t in your best interest to willingly walk into the messy apartment of a man you had only been messaging since the night before, but he seemed nice enough and you needed something of a distraction. Plus he promised you a few free drinks and a nice movie, so why not take a chance and lean back into his old worn couch?

You weren’t surprised when he made a move on you. Yeah you had explicitly told him you weren’t looking for a hookup tonight, but he was still some random guy from a dating app that you were really only using for some attention and free alcohol so you couldn’t even feign shock when his rough fingers landed far too close to the hem of your dress.

Luckily, you were only a few drinks in, and his stuff was cheap and watered down, so you simply brushed him off and walked out of his door and back into the dark and unfamiliar street.

Not many people would walk out of an unsuccessful tinder date and immediately stumble into a shady club, but tonight you weren’t in the same mindset as many people. In your eyes, your judgment was already a little off tonight, so what was the harm of adding to it?

The blaring white of the neon sign almost felt hypnotic when you passed it on the way to the bus stop. Was it there when you walked by earlier? You didn’t remember seeing it, but maybe they just hadn’t opened yet. It was as if your feet moved on their own, moving you to walk through the cramped doors, the fact that there was no waiting line to enter the building completely ignored by you.

The deep bass that shook the floor pecked at your head like a sculptor trying to carve a likeness from the marble of your skull, the red lights making you feel like you stepped directly into an unknown hell. The air smelled strangely sweet and it was as if it clung to your skin the second you stepped in. Sweaty bodies filled every space of the room, the amount of energy pumping into the atmosphere made you feel lightheaded and overwhelmed. The small voice in the back of your mind repeating that you should leave was slowly being suffocated by a sudden urge to move.

You stumbled over your own feet, shoulders of people rushing past shoving and pushing you around. Though the roughness of their bodies were drowned out when you saw the bar stools lined up one by one.

A drink. That’s why you came in. That’s what you convinced yourself of as you crawled into one of the seats at the end of the bar, the vinyl of the seat was split and cracked exposing the foam underneath.

Once you're seated, it’s like a crash after a sugar rush. You're sleepier than you were on your way through the crowd, but the small buzz of energy was still there. Your forehead meets the palms of your hands as you lean on the worn wood of the bar, it takes strong will to ignore the sticky substance that your elbow had landed in as you try to even your breathing.

“Someone needs a drink,” mean spirited sarcasm dripped from the voice in front of you, a small laugh punctuating the words of what you assumed was the bartender. How’d he get over so quickly?

“You could say that again,” you slowly lift your head, your skull feeling like it was filled with sludge.

When your eyes meet the ones of the boy in front of you, you can’t help but notice the shift that happens behind his eyes. He’s still amused by your misery, but there’s something there that almost reads as recognition, as a knowing. It seemed like the devious grin he wore twitched down to a concerned frown, but only for a moment. Or maybe you were letting your need for normal human interaction mess with your head. Either way you ignore it for more important matters.

“You wouldn’t happen to have wine back there would you?” the small smile he offers has a tinge of pity that makes you cringe.

“I’ll see what I can find,” you try not to flinch when his hand meets your arm in what was meant to be a comforting tap, “are you partial to red or white?” he’s already turned to look at the bottles lined behind him, turning momentarily to add, “or something tells me you might be a rosé type hm?”

“I’m not really in a position to be picky right now,” you offer a tight lipped smile at his assumption, as no amount of time that you’ve spent talking to this boy warrants him making assumptions about you.

You turn in your seat, letting your eyes fall over the crowd of people around you. You can’t help but notice that there’s an unspoken perimeter surrounding the bar that hinders the club goers from crowding too close. From what you can tell from the types of people that chose this place as their place of the night, you’d assume there’d be a group of party girls taking shots or a handful of boys with weak relationships with their masculinity placing bets on who could chug a beer faster, but it was nothing like that.

There were a few other people seated at the bar, but none close to you, and even then they seemed to be in a similar situation as you. Even from the long length of the bar, you could see a few people slowly sipping drinks with their heads dipped low, one man even having his face pressed flat against the wood seemingly passed out.

A cold glass touching your arm pulls you from your thoughts and makes you jump. You turn faster than you planned making you feel dizzy as it feels like your brain has started to freely float in your head. The presence of the bartender was confusing as you had thought he would leave after giving you your drink.

“Here,” he smiles in a way that should read as nice, but there’s something behind his wide eyes that makes you shiver as your fingers wrap around the glass, “I hope you like it, it’s a good one.”

The liquid swirling in the glass is a cool lilac. It swirls with blues and whites and almost looks like it glitters below the low lights. You look up at the boy in front of you warily, your teeth gnawing on your bottom lip before you bring the glass to your lips.

It’s cool as it slides past your drying lips, the taste almost like candy as the alcohol bleeds into your veins. There was nothing you could compare it to, as it was a flavor you’ve never had in your life. With only one swallow in your system, you already feel your muscles relaxing, the nerves that bit at you calming as your mind was set into slow motion.

“It’s really good,” you smile up at him in a way that can only be described as gooey, but you can’t suppress the warm feeling that floods you regardless of the temperature of the drink.

“I’m glad you like it, it’s a favorite of mine,” the underlying meaning of his words pass completely over your head as he reaches for a glass a few feet away and begins to wipe it with the rag on his hip. Was that glass there when you sat down?

“So,” he starts, he leans against the bar as he twirls the glass between his fingers, “what brings you to a club like this? You don’t seem like the type to be in here.”

“Bad week,” you shrug as you bring the glass back to your lips momentarily, “bad life.”

You only quietly mutter the last part into the rim of your glass, but he seems to hear it regardless. You always assumed spilling your guts to a bartender wasn’t something that actually happened, or at least happened to people much more inebriated than you, but the response fell from your lips so naturally there was no holding them back.

“That’s what I figured,” he shakes his head slowly, before lifting the glass to inspect it for any spots. Once he’s content with the cleanliness, he places it down and looks at you again, “but I guess it’s my job to help.”

“Help?” your head tilts as you speak, a dry laugh coming out as an exhale from your nose, “aside from keeping my glass full I don’t know if there’s much you can do.”

“Of course there is,” his eyes squint as he assesses you, the smile he offers makes his teeth look too sharp for his mouth, is this what it’s like to be hunted by a shark? “Like I said it’s my job.”

“Your job to keep random club goers happy?”

His head shakes again, and you nearly jump from your skin when the tips of his fingers brush the back of your hand, “not club goers. You.”

The look he holds in his eyes suddenly shifts with the single word. The stare he gives you is hard and almost unnerving, but you can’t force yourself to look away. It’s as if he’s trapped you frozen in your seat.

“And how are you going to do that?” you wanted to sound doubtful, maybe accusatory, but your voice comes out small and curious.

“You look smart,” he pinches the skin on the back of your hand, before he turns it over to pet at the sensitive skin of your wrist, “I think you can figure it out.”

“We’re supposed to do that in a crowded club?” you play along, your fingers returning the favor as you brush them against the length of his arm. The offer didn’t sound unappealing, he was gorgeous. Enough that you questioned why he had chosen being a bartender in a shady club as his profession, and if he wasn’t working and he offered to take you home you wouldn’t say no. But in the middle of a club?

He shrugs before he wears a devious smile, “everyone else is.”

Your chin juts forward and you eyes widen in confusion, before you turn slightly to face the crowd. You’re not sure why you made sure not to turn enough to lose his touch.

What he said was true. Maybe you were too eager to get a drink when you first walked in, or maybe you just chose to ignore it, but he was right. The crowd that once seemed like it was only filled with dancing bodies, takes on a new monstrous form as you look at it now. There’s still people dancing, but as you look closer you begin to notice greedy hands and desperate mouths moving without a care of who could see. Skirts push up and underwear pushed to the side as random couples, and even a few groups, enjoy the pleasures of one another.

“Oh my god,” you turn back to face the grinning man in front of you, your fingers wrapping around his arm in an attempt to ground yourself, “what kind of club is this?”

“Oh come on,” he sounds unimpressed at your shock, his nails now gently scratching at your skin, “you’re grown, don’t act like you’ve never seen it before.”

“But I- I don’t know what…” you stutter over your words. The sight was a shock, and you can’t help but feel a bit scandalized, but there’s no way for you to ignore the warmth that settles in the seat of your underwear at what you saw and what he’s suggesting.

“But I’m still technically on the clock so we’d have to be quick,” he ignores your rambling as he pulls away from your skin to untie the small black apron he had wrapped around his hips.

“You want to have sex with me in, not only a crowed club, but a crowded club that you work at?” your fingers grip at the edge of the bar as you lose his arm to hold to, your body all but vibrating as he scans the space at the side of the bar for something, or someone. There’s no ignoring the way your heart begins to rapidly beat in your chest.

“You won’t believe me if I tell you why it’s okay for this to happen,” his casualty to the situation makes you curl into yourself, “but there’s a reason you're here, so there’s no point in acting like you don’t want it to happen.”

Your mouth closes tightly at his accusation, but you have no points to argue. He was something of a charmer, you wouldn’t be surprised if he could convince you to help him rob a bank at this point. You’d be ashamed to admit out loud that the idea of this is getting you excited.

He waves a younger guy over, before turning back to you, “you want it. It’s impossible for you not to,” he clicks his tongue as his eyes travel your body. You lift slightly from your seat in anticipation, your legs shaking in response, “but you still seem apprehensive, so what do you say we go somewhere quick and private?”

You wordlessly nod as your nails dig into the old wood of the bar. The guy he motioned over is now leaning over the bar with eyebrows raised in curiosity, as the bartender leans to whisper something about covering for him while he’s gone. The knowing smile the guy offers in response makes your hair stand on end in embarrassment at the idea of someone else knowing what you were about to do.

Your embarrassment fades slightly as you watch the man begin to round the corner of the bar to reach you. Your heartbeat reaches your throat as the situation you’ve found yourself in begins feeling too real.

The younger guy presses himself against the bar, patiently waiting for the man to pass. All he offers is a teasing, ‘we told you someone would come’ earning him an irritated swat on the shoulder.

The grip around your wrist is tighter than you would have expected as he begins to pull you along his side. When you glance back at the boy left at the bar in curiosity, all you’re offered is a sly wink.

The trek through the sweaty bodies on the dance floor is nothing like the one you took earlier. It was as if people were purposefully moving out of the way of the cold man you trailed behind. You would have thought that was exactly what was happening too, if it wasn’t for the fact that no one spared you two a glance.

You can’t hide the cringe that hits your nerves when the bathroom sign comes into view, you hesitant steps only making him tug you harder behind you. Was this really his idea of somewhere private?

The door of the men’s restroom creaks loudly as he swings it open, a loud bang ringing out in the space when it hits the graffitied wall. Surprisingly, it’s empty when you enter, and for a restroom there doesn’t seem to be any strong smells. Your curious eyes dancing around the room are interrupted as he shoves you into one of the bigger stalls, a small yelp sounding from your chest as you shoulder bumps against the door frame.

When you turn his back is facing you as he tries to latch the door, giving you an opportunity to admire his form. His shoulders shifting under the shirt and the short sleeves allows you to see the muscle of his back moving. He’s almost gaunt in his slouching stance but that does nothing to erase how much he intimidates you.

You anxiously swallow your saliva when he turns to face you, the smile he shows different than any he had given you at the bar. If people could be evil incarnate, it would be the man in front of you. You shrink into yourself as he devours you with his eyes.

“Remember I said we gotta be quick,” he grabs your waists tightly in callused fingers making you squeak, before he roughly turns you to press your front into the wall, his chest immediately meeting your back, “there you go.”

You hear the sharp metallic sound of your dress’ zipper being shoved down roughly, you can only pray that he didn’t break it when the fabric pools around your ankles. You aren’t given the opportunity to check, before he’s pressing you tighter against the wall, your face pressed flat against the tiled walls, and one of his rough hands grabs the back of your neck while the other falls between your legs. The motions happening to fast for your mind to keep up, your life being set to fast forward.

He pets at the dampening fabric of your underwear, barely ghosting the tips of his fingers over your core. You pant in impatience as your hips begin to roll in search of friction.

“I thought we had to be quick?” you attempt to ask innocently, but the question comes out more demanding then you had intended, your thighs softly clinching desperately. You don’t remember the thought forming in your mind before it escaped your mouth, but you’ll be glad if it makes him pick up the pace.

There’s a dry laugh from the man behind you before he shifts to dig the heel of his hand into your aching clit. You whine loudly in response seemingly forgetting someone could walk in at any time as his fingers dig harshly into the back of your neck.

“Just wanted to get you ready, but you’re already wet aren’t you?” he shoves the fabric to the side, his fingers quickly dipping into where your arousal drips out of you, a pleased groan rattling his chest, “of course you are. I knew you’d be.”

“Please,” you plead, your hips rolling faster when he dips two fingers into you, pushing and pulling you apart.

“You’ve been dripping for me the moment I gave you that drink haven’t you?” his hips press forward into you back, digging his erection into the flesh of your ass. You desperately rut into it the best you can as he kicks at your feet making you spread your legs further.

“You’re right though,” he hums at the quiet noise you make as he pulls his fingers away. He wipes them on the skin of your thigh, before he moves to mess with the fabric and zipper of his jeans, “gotta fuck you quick hm?”

Even with his hand away from your skin and his hips away from yours, your hips still twitch and dip in search for pleasure. Your hands lay flat on the grimy wall, your nails gently scratching lines into the chipping paint.

You gasp when his wet and sticky tip hits the inside of your thigh, the way it spreads his arousal against your skin telling you that he slowly running his hand up the length.

“You good?” he mutters into the air as he moves to press against your entrance, not moving to enter you until you answer him.

“Please I need it so bad,” you huff in frustration as your walls begin to flutter in anticipation, “please, please, please.”

Your rambling is cut off with a deep groan when he fills you in once thrust. Being filled so suddenly melts your brain as your nails claw at the wall. You feel yourself clench a few times around him, but his stillness and lack of verbal response tells you he’s not as affected as you.

He shushes and coos at you as both hands find a place on your hips, his thumbs rubbing comforting circles into your skin.

Once you’ve gone quiet, he slowly leans back, only slipping a few inches out of you. You hear him adjust his stance before he starts roughly thrusting into you. His thrusts are slow and short, pulling against every hypersensitive nerve inside you as he never fully leaves your body. He uses his hands that grip your hips to pull you to rock back and meet his thrusts at an equal pace.

Your legs shake as you try to hold yourself up, his hips knocking you into the wall in front of you. With your fingers curling desperately in search for something to hold, you reach behind you. A sigh of content slips from your mouth when you find his wrist, your fingers wrapping around it as he knocks into you making a content growl fall from his mouth.

Mentally you’ve left the bathroom you're in, you mind slipping into a space where only you and this man you barely know are existing. Not even the sharp coolness of the wall biting at your nipples through your thin bralette is enough to break your facade as one of his hands slowly runs up the dip of your spine. With only one hand gripping your hip, he’s thrown slightly off balance, forcing your body to slam flat against the wall with his unrelenting pace.

“It will only hurt for a second,” his promise is muddled in your brain, the words making no sense to you as your body is wracked with pleasure. You only begin to understand what he said when you begin to feel it.

A small bite of pain, the warning of a bee sting telling you it’s about to get worse. His fingers press flat against your shoulder blade as something, what you assume is a ring you didn’t notice him wearing, begins to slowly cut open the skin.

You quietly sob into the air as the pain mixing with your unnatural amount of pleasure floods your veins. Tears slip down your face suddenly as he stops cutting into you to wrap his arm around your waist and his fingers search for the space between your legs.

“What did you do?” you want to ask in curiosity as the pain subsides momentarily, but the words die on your tongue. At the exact moment his greedy fingers find your buzzing clit, his tongue flattens against the fresh cut on your back as he lets your blood spread on his taste buds.

A quiet muffled, ‘I knew you’d taste sweet,’ is all you hear before his lips wrap fully around the wound. He harshly sucks at the tender skin as his fingers rub rough tight circles into your bundle of nerves making new tears slip from your eyes.

The pain in your shoulder, mixed with the blooming pleasure between your thighs, makes your whole body shutter against his. The beginning promises of an orgasm crawling across your skin.

If it wasn’t for the cut he created on your skin, you probably would have been more concerned with how your nails dig harshly into the skin of his wrist. Your eyes roll back and loud moans rip from your chest as the tip of his tongue presses into your cut at the same time you begin to come.

He’s teeth dig into the tender skin next to the wound as your walls clamp tightly around him. Another growl is pulled from him and his hips still as he begins to come as well. The feeling of his come spilling deep inside of you and his still moving fingers, flooding your system with another wave of pleasure.

You feared your eyes would fall out from how far they roll back into your skull, your orgasm ripping you apart at the seams as you become completely consumed by it. His hot panting breath now hitting your neck as he tries to sooth you with soft kisses to the space below your jaw.

His fingers relent, moving instead to pet at your stomach, as he slowly pulls his softening length out of your shivering body. With your forehead pressed against the cool wall, he begins to gather your dress from the floor.

With careful fingers, he adjusts your underwear to hide where he’s made a mess of you, the fabric of your dress joining to cling to your sweaty skin.

He pulls you to rest against his chest as he begins to rock you back and forth. If your mind was clear you’d be aware enough to suppress the dopey smile that graces your features. The damp air that surrounds you is thick, and would have been suffocating if it wasn’t for your mind being too delirious to register the feeling. You’re in his arms for what feels like decades as your breathing evens and your legs gain strength. The fact that you stand in a restroom is completely ignored as you think you could comfortably stay here forever.

Once he feels you’re coherent enough, he speaks, “you need to get out of here,” you only hum in content and confusion before he continues, “you need to get home sweetheart. The last bus leaves soon.”

You petulantly whine as you turn in his arms. Your own circle around his neck as you tiredly press your nose into the space of his shoulder. He laughs at your sudden clinginess. He was told it would happen once you’ve met, but he never thought it would be as immediate as the other boys had made it seem.

“You’ll be fine,” he pulls you away slightly, enough to look into your eyes and bump his nose against yours, “if you get on the bus you’ll be safe until you get home.”

“You?” you whisper, your proximity making your lips brush against his, the small contact making your heart leap. The word alone doesn’t make much sense to even you, but he seems to understand as he offers a warm smile.

“Next time you come I’ll be here, and if I’m not at the bar ask for Yuta,” his fingers brush against your back where he left his mark, now protected and slowly healing under the fabric of your dress, “but I should know that you're coming before you get here.”

#nct smut #yuta smut #yuta #nct #yuta nakamoto #clubx #nct imagines #nct fanfic #nct oneshot #nct series #yuta imagines #yuta oneshot

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nessie-senpai · 6 years

Video

When the club you go to has a random appearance of #Seungri from #BigBang XD what a mad night! Love it! @seungriseyo . . #clubbing #edm #kpop #승리 #빅방 #clubX #Hongdae #홍대 #Hongdae #NYE #NewYears #SoAmazing #votd #live (at Seoul, South Korea)

#live #kpop #clubbing #newyears #votd #nye #soamazing #clubx #bigbang #빅방 #승리 #hongdae #홍대 #seungri #edm

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farmdelosreyestedeschi · 4 years

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youtube

pasko,xmas,Sangingka beach club,X mas,farm Tedeschi & sanginka style, punta bulocawe,carles iloilo,Philippines

#paskoxmasSangingka beach clubX masfarm Tedeschi & sanginka style punta bulocawecarles iloiloPhilippines #pasko #xmas #cristmas #christmas #xmas sangingka #xmas farm tedeschi #xmas carles

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vioenkeli · 5 years

Photo

@jonneaaronofficial #jonneaaron #jonneaaronofficial #nextgig #tomorrow #2november2019 @vikinglinesuomi #msvikingxprs #clubx #Helsinki #Finland🇫🇮 #tiikerinraidatour #tiikerinraidatkiertue 🔥🐯🔥 📸: Jonne Liimatainen (presso Viking XPRS) https://www.instagram.com/p/B4UPozoIZ3KWHiFsCph-rgIBGpcQ98d7lFF_Y80/?igshid=iwo2dra1fdyv

#jonneaaron #jonneaaronofficial #nextgig #tomorrow #2november2019 #msvikingxprs #clubx #helsinki #finland🇫🇮#tiikerinraidatour #tiikerinraidatkiertue

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adhd-in-space · 3 years

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Tag game where you pick a photo that’s already in your camera roll that sums you up

I was tagged by @seagull-laugh-girl and @plz-let-me-nap

Goblin vibes with coffee and a peace sign

I tag @los-v-er-clubx and @lademoiselledulac

#if anyone wants context to this #I was hiding from the cameras at work to have a coffee #so I pulled the bin out and hid in the little space where it goes

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shewritestheblues · 4 years

Text

The Elevator Bae x Chapter 4

Chapter FOUR

Erik x Black OC (Phoenix)

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Reruns of Martin plays in the tv as Phoenix whips up her pancake batter. She has turkey bacon and hash browns done on the stove. A knock on the door turns into a beat brin made on the door.

Ava!

Phoenix swings the door open to find Ava and Mica holding up orange juice and liquor.

“What’s brunch without liquor?” Mica says walking in. She immediately looks through the cabinets for a pitcher and begins missing up mimosas. Ava sits on a stool at the kitchen counter while Phoenix starts making the pancakes.

“Let’s just get straight to it, what’s up with Erik?” Ava asks.

Mica pours their drinks. “Who is Erik?”

“A nigga that she want.”

Mica eyes Phoenix for her to explain. She tries to focus on the task at hand of flipping her pancakes.

“Ma’am, get to talking.”

“He lives here. I met him on the elevator. We’ve run into each other from time to time.”

Ava slams her hand on the counter. “Mica, she’s fucking with us. Coby said they be having moments on the elevator, flirting and shit. But come to find out, he’s messing with Sydney--”

“BIG BOOTY SYDNEY?”

“He’s not messing with her.”

Ava’s head snaps over to her. “How you know?”

Phoenix bites her lip as she makes their plates. “He told me.”

“When he say this?”

“Wait, wait,” Mica intervens, “How y’all know he was allegedly messing with Syd?”

Ava has a mouth full of bacon at this point just spilling the little beans that she has. “We seen her in the garage and she was all asking Philly about if she seen the nigga because he left her place like a theif in the night and never called her back.”

“Damn! This nigga a savage and you like him?” Mica turns to Phoenix with concern.

“That is not what she said, Mica. But, he told me last night, this morning, whatever… that she’s cool but he ain’t feeling her in that way.”

“Let me guess, on the elevator?” Ava sticks her tongue out teasing Phoenix. Phoenix gives her the middle finger. Mica swats her hand, “Focus. What exactly did he say?”

“Well… he mentioned having his eye on someone else,” Mica and Ava share a look as Phoenix continued. “And I told him he should tell Sydney he doesn’t like her.”

“...that’s it?” Mica says stuffing hash browns in her mouth.

“No, he-- well, I told him he looks tired and get some rest when I was getting off the elevator. Then he says, “Goodnight baby girl.” and winks at me all flirty and shit.”

“Oh girl, niggas love throwing in a baby girl,” Mica says refilling her glass. “I wouldn’t think nothing of that.”

Phoenix looks to Ava for her input.

“Honestly Philly, I don’t know. Because yeah, niggas just be talking but at the same time, we dont know who this man is. For all we know, you could be making all this shit up.”

“Why would I make this up?”

“No, no I’m not saying you are at all. My point is, only you can judge the vibe between y’all because we don’t know who he is.”

“What he look like?” Mica says with a mouth full of pancakes.

“He’s tall, brown, nice teeth, dreads.”

“Oh, so he’s a daddy. Yeah, you can’t trust those.”

Ava almost spit out her drink from laughing.

-------

The gold chain with a ring hanging from it that sits around Erik’s neck, swings back and forth as he does his last few push ups. He sits up on his floor, rolling his neck and stretching it. His phone lights up on the coffee table in front of him.

Text: Sydney

He swipes to close it without reading it. He gets up and goes into the bathroom, turning on the shower. He steps out of his sweaty clothes and steps in. The warmth of the water stings the new small scar on his abdomen. Biting his lip until the slight pain fades away. Allowing the water to run over his body, he closes his eyes releasing a long sigh.

After washing his body and face, he puts on fresh clothes and relaxes on his huge sectional couch. It’s been a long week for Erik and a day of just chilling is exactly what he needed and wanted. He searched through Netflix with nothing really catching his eye. So he picked up his phone, opening Sydney’s text. It was the 4th text she had sent him since he left her place a few nights ago.

Sydney: E, What’s up?

Sydney: So you’re not going to text me back?

Sydney: Are you okay?

Sydney: so you’re just gonna go ghost. Most niggas wait until after they hit. At this point, I dont even care.

His thumb hovered over the keyboard. Phoenix’s words singing in his ear, I think you should tell her. Communication is key.

She was right, just letting her know he’s not into to her like that is the right thing to do. But, he definitely took the part about communication being about him being more open about liking her instead. He finally types a response.

Erik: Hey. my bad, i’ve been busy. working.

Sydney: you have some free time now? You just left and i wanted to see you.

Erik: Im free but i dont really wanna chill. I like you Syd, but as a friend.

Sydney: wow. Ok

With that out the way, Erik opened his Instagram app, scrolling up his timeline. He comes across a picture that his friend, Shawn posted. Shawn went out to the opening of Club X the night before. He was one of the promoters. As Erik swipes through Shawn’s pics, he notices one that he’s in with four women. One of them being Phoenix. The caption says ‘ClubX now open. Come get lit with the dopest DJ in the city.’ Erik taps the photo to reveal the tags. @DJPhoenixBlue , @AmazingAva , @Micaxoxo , @CamrenMarie. Did he just find Phoenix’s IG page? Without a second thought, he clicks her page and yes… yes he did find elevator bae’s page. He carefully looked and admired every picture. He found himself looking at a pic from June 2016 when Phoenix was back in Detroit, walking through downtown with one of her old friends. That’s when he knew he was doing the most. He scrolled back to the top of her page, reading her bio. He clicks the soundcloud link that’s attached and takes a listen. He nods his head to the R&B beat. It was definitely a vibe. He let her playlist play. He laid his head back onto the couch, closing his eyes. He was on the 5th beat before he sat up to sounds of his stomach rumbling.

“Shit.” He goes into the kitchen, Phoenix’s music still playing. There wasn’t much left in his refrigerator with him being gone for days. He turns the music off to focus on searching through his various food apps to order something. He found himself back on Phoenix’s Instagram page. He leans back on his kitchen counter, completing forgetting about food. He debates with himself if he should follow her. He stood there with his thumb hanging over the follow button. “Fuck it.” he thinks. He taps follow. He came this far, he might as well like a few pics.

He orders from a cafe he likes that’s not too far from his home. It’ll be there in 20 minutes. He finds his way back into the living room, on the couch. He settles with rewatching Naruto. Only made sense because it was his favorite.

---------

Mica helps Phoenix load up the dirty dishes into her dishwasher as Ava rolls them a blunt. Phoenix gave more than enough detail about every encounter she has had with Erik since meeting him. She even told them about the dream she had about him. Mica doesn’t seem to like the idea of Erik while Ava tried to convince Phoenix to shoot her shot with him. Phoenix figured it wouldn’t hurt to ‘think about it.’

After finishing their breakfast and cleaning up, the women are sitting out on Phoenix’s balcony, smoking and trying to make plans for Camren. Her birthday was the weekend coming up and Camren made it clear that she wanted to do Hoodrat things with her friends. That was her only request. They already have a surprise girls trip that they planned months ago, but the three of them would make her ratchet dreams come true.

“Let’s do a surprise dinner and take her ass to the club,” Phoenix says, passing the blunt to Mica. “I can get us a section.”

“Yeahhhh, get some big ass pictures of her face and bottles.” Ava added.

“That would make her so happy.” Mica says between coughs and laughs.

They finalize their plans for the weekend. They are taking Camren out to eat, the club and will surprise her with their planned vacation when she wakes up the next morning with a hangover, contemplating life. Ava and Mica say their goodbyes to Phoenix and leave out to wait for the elevator. When the doors open, they come face to face with Erik. He’s alone in the cabin. He recognizes them immediately as the girls in the pictures with Phoenix and Shawn. He moves over to the left of the cabin. Mica stands center and Ava to the right. Silence sits over the three of them. Erik could feel that one of them is staring fire into the side of his face. When he turns to them, Mica is giving him the worst death stare he’s experienced in his life. They stare at each other.

“Is your name Erik?”

“Yeah. Do I know you?

Ava’s head snaps quickly in his direction. She hadn’t even thought about who the man was in the cabin with them. Mica remembered every detail Phoenix gave about what Erik looked like. He’s tall, brown, nice teeth, dreads.

“Nah, you don’t know me,” Mica says, turning to fully face him. “But what you do need to know is when it comes to Philly, I’ll kick yo’ ass, you pretty muthafucker.”

Erik is confused and caught off guard. Who in the hell is this woman. Is Philly, Phoenix? He really didn’t know how to respond to this threat. Ava pinches the bridge of her nose. She can’t take Mica, NOWHERE!

“Who the fuck is Philly?”

“Oh my God,” Ava intervenes, “You have to excuse her. She’s high as fuck.” Ava grabs Mica’s arm and pulled her to the right side of the cabin, away from Erik. “We’re friends of Phoenix, nice to meet you.”

Erik eyes Mica who seems uninterested in him. “Nice to meet y’all too… I think.”

The elevator doors open and Ava steps out, dragging Mica with her. Watching the two of them made Erik laugh. As he made his way to his car, it hit him what Mica and Ava said. She talked to her friends about him? What in the hell did she say for her friends to be so protective? Either way, he couldn’t stop the redness from forming on his cheeks.

Once Ava and Mica were in Ava’s car, without skipping a beat, Mica facetimes Phoenix. “Sis. We just seen your pretty ass man on the elevator.”

“What?”

“What?” Mica says in a mocking tone. “You love playing stupid. Ya’ boy Erik. I had to let him know he better be on some real shit when it comes to you.”

“MICA!” Phoenix covers her face with her free hand.

“You’re welcome. And he is fine though. I see why you pressed but I still don’t trust his ass.”

-------

The next morning, Phoenix started her day with some morning yoga. She had a few errands to run before a studio session later that night. She needed to go to the bank, do a little grocery shopping and reup on some hair products. She had used the last of her Miss Jessie’s curl cream the night of the club opening. Her hair has been in that same bun since. Putting on some dark denim shorts and a red one shoulder crop top, paired with some red vans, she headed out.

Luckily, when Phoenix arrived at the bank, her favorite banker, Ms. Kim was there. Whenever she’d have to go to the bank, she loved going to her to handle her money. Ms. Kim was an older, black woman that gave her all of the cool, auntie vibes. Ms. Kim was the one who helped Phoenix set up a seperate account for her business account and tax account. She honestly made everything easier.

“Good Afternoon, Miss Phoenix,” Ms. Kim stands, greeting Phoenix has she approached her desk.

“Hi, Ms. Kim.”

Ms. Kim motions for Phoenix to take a seat.

“How have you been little lady? Busy I take it since it’s been a few weeks since I’ve seen you in here.”

Phoenix smiles, “Yeah, I’ve been working like crazy.”

“That’s good. At least you’re busy doing something you love though, right?

“Yes. I wouldn’t trade it for anything, honestly.”

“I’m glad. Now what can I help you with today?”

Phoenix digs into her purse, pulling out two checks. “I want to deposit these and send a little something to my Mom. She’s been bugging me about a purse.” She shakes her head. Ms. Kim laughs and takes the checks and does her magic. She knows just how Phoenix wanted to break up the checks into each of her accounts, which is why Phoenix loved her so much. She never had to ask too many questions. She just knew what to do.

------

Phoenix made her way to the farmers market, getting as much food as she could fit into her basket. She always did this, knowing the struggles of carrying all of the tote bags up to her apartment. But without fail, she did this to herself, every time. Loading her groceries into her car, she heads home. She didn’t have much on her mind but she wasn’t fully there as she pulls into the parking garage of her apartment. She parks her car and starts grabbing her bags from her trunk when one falls and she smashes her carton of eggs. She pouts, pissed off with herself about dropping the bag.

“You have to be kidding me!” She stands there, holding her face trying not to be too upset about it.

“You need some help?” Phoenix turns to find Erik walking in her direction, his keys in hand. She was a bit frozen when she saw him. He was wearing a fitted white shirt with grey joggers and his dreads were braided back. She just stood there, staring at him until his laugh shook her from her trance. He loved how his presence would stall her.

“Umm, no. I’m okay. I don’t wanna hold you up.” She picks up the bag that fell and tries to grab more bags from the trunk. Erik didn’t say anything, he just reached for the bags in her hands, taking them from her.

“Erik…” she tries to protest.

“Girl, grab the rest of the bags and c’mon. I’m not in a rush.”

She was lowkey shocked but did what he said. She grabbed the rest of the bags and closed her trunk, locking her doors. He stood, holding the majority of her groceries so she hit the call button.

“You really didn’t have to--”

“I wanted to. If I’m right here, you don’t need to be carrying all of this up alone.”

“Thank You.” she says in a low tone.

The elevator doors open and they step inside headed up to Floor 7. Phoenix tried to avoid looking at Erik. One, he was looking damn good right now and two, she never knew how she’d react to him.

“You look beautiful today. I like the whole messy bun flow you got going on.” he finally says.

“OH SHIT! I'm sorry, Thank you. You just reminded me that I forgot to pick up some stuff for my hair.”

“What do you use on your hair?”

“Um this Miss Jessie’s curl cream and this Shea Moisture leave in. I completely forgot and I’m all out of both.”

The elevator doors open and Erik follows her to her door. Taking note of the ‘702’ on her door. She pushes the heavy door open and holds it open for him. He follows her into the kitchen, placing the many bags on the counter. Phoenix struggles to get her hand out of the handle of one of the bags, not realizing she’s still holding her keys. Her phone starts ringing in her back pocket. She’s panicking trying to get her hand free and getting her phone. Watching her struggle was a good time for Erik. He walked up to her, taking her keys from her hand and taking the bag from her wrist. His hands were rough and warm and it caught her off guard… as usual.

“Thanks.” She answers her phone just in time. It’s another engineer that she was suppose to have the studio session with. He called to tell her that the artist they were supposed to work with, cancelled so it wasn't a point in going tonight. She was disappointed. She hated when people would cancel last minute being that the studio was her happy place.

The disappointment she felt was all over her face as she hung up the phone.

“Everything okay?” Erik asked. For a moment, she forgot that he was there.

“Yeah, the artist I was suppose to have a studio session with cancelled on me.”

“Oh yeah, you’re a DJ.”

She never told him that. How would he know that? “Yeah… I’m just gonna go by myself though. I have some stuff that I need to get done.”

Erik sways back and forth, debating on if he should ask. Phoenix starts putting away her groceries. She assumed Erik would just leave at that point but he continued to stand there with his hands in his pocket. She stops what she’s doing and eyes him suspiciously.

“This is weird, but would you mind if I tagged along with you? To the studio.”

She was NOT expecting that. Suddenly Ava’s words rang in her ear. Shoot your shot. The thought of that made her nervous but she stopped the nerves in their tracks. What’s the worst that could happen? He wouldn’t ask if he wasn’t interested, right?

“Uh, yeah sure… wait, weren’t you going somewhere before you helped me with my bags?”

Erik leans over onto her counter, rubbing his hands together. “Yeah, but it wasn’t important. Just chilling with some homies.”

“So you’re just gonna bail on your friends to hang out with me? You don’t even know me.”

“You don’t really know me but I’m all up in ya’ kitchen right now.”

He had a point. She just shook her head and finishes putting away her groceries. He watched her every move. It’s still pretty early so Phoenix still has time to go out and get her hair products before heading to the studio.

“Well everything’s put away. I’m gonna go get my hair stuff. You can just meet me in the garage around 8. Is that cool?”

Eriks stands up straight, “Yeah.”

She smiles and grabs her purse, walking to the door. Erik follows. He waits for her by the elevators as she locks her door. When the elevators opens for them, Mya steps off.

“Hey Phoenix.”

“Hey, Mya.” she waves at her. Mya looks at Erik and then back to Phoenix, mouthing to her, “YAS SIS!” Phoenix laughs. Erik is going up to his place to wait for her so she says bye to him and watches him step in and the doors close. She patiently waits for the cabin to come back down to take her down to the parking garage. Making it to the beauty supply, she buys way more than she needed. Getting some new Mane Choice shampoo, a long, curly ponytail (because you never know when you’ll need one), the curl creams she came for and some hair accessories. She could never control herself in the beauty supply store. It was like a candy store for black girls.

She made her way back home and couldn’t resist washing her hair to try her new products and honestly, she couldn’t wait to retire that messy bun.

------

Erik waits in the parking garage for Phoenix. Checking his phone, it’s now 8:12pm. He’s not usually a patient man but he would wait for as long as he needed for her. Finally a ding from the elevators alerts him that someone is getting off. Phoenix steps out with fresh curls that are still partially wet. She had changed into some black joggers and a Snoop Dogg T-Shirt with her backpack hanging on one arm.

“I’m sorry. I really had to wash my hair.”

He smiles at her. “It’s not a problem, baby girl.”

There’s that name again. She stares at him. “Uh, yeah. You ready?”

“Lead the way.”

He follows her to her car. He steps around her, opening her door for her. She smiles a thank you and he walks around, getting into the passenger seat. She holds up the Aux cord.

“This is my only offer. Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

“You’re the DJ. Let me hear what you like to listen to.”

Phoenix proceeds to plug in her phone and put her playlist on shuffle. Megan thee Stallion x Cash Shit comes on blasting through the speakers as Phoenix pulls out onto the road. She raps along.

Yeah, I’m in my bag // but I’m in his too.

That’s why every time you see me // I got some new shows. AH!

Erik enjoys the show of Phoenix rapping along to every song that comes on. He even joins in when Dreamville x Got Me comes on.

I got you long as you got me // And I got you long as you got me

----

Walking into the studio building, Phoenix greets the security guy at the front desk. This is her favorite studio to work in so she knows everyone who works out of the building by name.

“Hey, Larry.”

“Hello, Miss Blue.”

She loves that he calls her that. Erik nods at Larry and Larry does the same. They continue to an elevator that takes them to the third floor. Walking into the huge studio, Phoenix flicks on the lights and begins setting up her laptop, pulling out her writing notebook. Erik looks around. Blue and green lights, light up the booth that sits in front of them.

“You want something to drink? There’s all types of stuff in the fridge.” Phoenix asks, sitting in a big, comfy chair.

“Nah, I’m good for now.” Erik sits next to her. He sits and just watches as she finishes setting up everything. She has a few samples that she made in her files so she starts with those first. A very smooth R&B Style beat with drums begins to play through the speakers. Phoenix digs in her backpack and pulls out a bag of weed.

“You smoke?” she asks, taking out a back wood.

“Yeah.”

“When I come here alone, this is how I set the mood.”

He watches her carefully as she breaks the weed down so effortlessly. She bobs her head to the beat, filling the back wood with the weed. He could tell, this was her zone. She seemed so relaxed here. Even he couldn’t shake her up right now.

“So, Erik,” She adds emphasis to his name. “Tell me something.”

“What you wanna know?” he watches as she begins to perfectly lick the blunt closed. He’s mesmerized.

“What do you do?”

“In the Navy… engineer.”

She looks at him as she lights the blunt and takes a drag. She slowly releases the smoke. “You from here?”

“Yeah. Grew up in Oakland. You?”

“Nah… I’m from Detroit.”

“Damn, that’s what’s up. When did you come out here?”

She hands him the blunt. “Last year. My career started taking off. I was flying out here like every other week so I just moved out here.”

“You like it?”

“I love it.”

They passed the blunt back and forth until it was gone. The same beat still playing in the background. Phoenix was feeling her high and the beat. Melodies started coming to her as she sung a series of Ahhhs and Heyyys until they formed into lyrics and she wrote them down in her notebook.

“Damn girl, you can sing?”

“I can hold a note or two.”

“Have you ever wrote and recorded any songs for yourself?”

“I have a few.”

“Can I hear one?”

She’s hesitant at first but she goes through her files and finds a song she wrote when she broke up with her ex. As the song played, Erik paid close attention to every word, every note. He felt like he could hear her pain in her voice. She noticed the focused expression on his face. Like he was trying to figure out the exact story that inspired the song.

“Wrote this last year when I came out here. My ex… he uh, he cheated and had a baby.”

The song ends and she goes back to the beats she was listening to before.

“You’ve been single since?” he asks.

“Yeah. Just been working. If I’m gonna give a nigga my time, he has to understand my work. He can’t get in the way of that, ya’ know?”

“I get it.”

“How long have you been single?”

Erik sits back in his chair, rubbing his beard. “I’ve actually never really been in a relationship.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. Life just didn’t seem to allow me to do all of that.”

“Why?”

Erik was never one to open up to people. Maybe it was the weed or maybe it was the vibe, but he felt safe with Phoenix in this moment. “I had to take care of myself growing up. Parents died young so I didn’t have time for distractions. Got into college early. Went to MIT,” Phoenix eyes grew big at that. “Went straight into the navy after that.”

“Do you think things have changed for you now? Like… maybe you would be able to try out a relationship or something?”

“Well, where I am now, if that’s what I wanted to do, I’ll figure it out. But it’s like you said, it has to be somebody that understands my work.”

She nods and turns to work on the beat that’s playing. After making a few adjustments, she figured out just what it was missing. She looked to Erik and noticed he was vibing out to the new, improved beat.

“You like it?”

“Hell yeah. I fuck with this.”

That made her happy. She loved when other people were vocal about her work.

“Can I ask you something, Erik?”

“Wassup?”

“So… what really happened with you and Sydney?”

He looks at her. He couldn’t read her like he usually could. “Nothing. We hung out. Chilled at her place. Got so high, we both passed out and I left. She wanted to do more but like I told you, I wasn’t feeling it.”

She played with her fingers. He rolled his chair closer to her and lifted her chin so she’s looking at him. “You don’t have to worry about her.”

“What?” She moved back. “I’m not worried about her. I was just-- nothing, never mind.”

He didn’t push her to continue. She opted to ask him more generic questions.

“Anyways… um, what’s your favorite color?”

If this is how she wanted this to go, he’d play along. “My favorite color is black. Yours?”

“Blue.” she smiled.

By the end of the session, Phoenix had finished two beats. She even showed Erik how to work a few buttons so he could help her record a few hooks and a verse. By the end of the session, they knew a lot more about each other. Erik’s last name is Stevens and he was 31. He loved french toast and watching anime. Phoenix was 27 with a birthday coming in just a few months. Erik may or may not be plotting to get her something. She loved animals and told him about her most embarrassing moment in high school when she was performing for pep rally and tripped on her own two feet in front of the whole school. They had a good time with each other. It was almost 2am when they left.

As they waited for the elevator, Erik stood dangerously close to Phoenix. She could feel like body heat and she wanted so bad to wrap her arms around him for him to warm her up.

“I had a good time with you tonight, Philly.”

“I had a good time with you too, Stevens.” She poked his chest.

The elevator arrives and they step on, Floor 7 and Penthouse floor as their destinations. The ride up was a comfortable, tired silence. As Phoenix got off on her floor, Erik reached for her hand, stopping her right between the open doors. He rubbed the back of her hand with his thumbs. He licked his lips and she watched with her mouth parted slightly. He knew just what he was doing. “Goodnight, baby girl.”

If this nigga dont stop this!

“Goodnight, E.”

He was surprised at the nickname. Sure, most people called him E, but coming from her, at this moment, felt different. Like equivalent to his ‘baby girl.’ He felt a rush move through his chest as she slowly slid her hand from his, stroking his fingers and smiled at him. She stood on the other side of the doors until the doors shut. This time, it was Erik with jelly legs. He caught himself by leaning back on the back wall of the cabin as it traveled up. He has never felt like this with no woman… ever!

When he made it into his place, he stripped out of his clothes and took a hot shower. Thinking of the way her hand felt in his made his dick twitch under the warm water. He stroked it a few times before choosing to just wash up and go to bed. He really didn’t understand this feeling and didn’t want to process it right now. He just wanted to have this moment. Whatever it was. As he made himself comfortable in his cool sheets, he picked up his phone, opening Instagram. Phoenix’s story the first one highlighted at the top of his screen. He clicked it and 4 minutes ago, she posted a photo of the city’s view from her bedroom with the caption ‘Nights like This❤️ ’

There it is… that feeling in his chest again. He locks his phone and drifts off to sleep with Phoenix as the last thought on his mind.

#erik x phoenix #the elevator bae #shewritestheblues

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your-wifes-lovers · 3 years

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No games, no bull shit - just an intense role playing adventure with experienced bulls

Mention if you have partied on SLS or Clubx - we are open to working with couples we know

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undressjess · 3 years

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Come see tonight at @xsgentsclub! • Not local to #evansvilleindiana? I’ve still got you, boo! Just mosey on over to my b|0 & check the top l1nk for mooooore! • 📸: @m.waddell_photography HMUA: @processedpretty Costume: @shein_us Stockings: @clubkixies Braids: @cherenee_ • #nursejessa #clubxs #knotlessbraids #sundayfunday (at XS) https://www.instagram.com/p/CKK1PfvFY-p/?igshid=18ajit0h8ndzg

#evansvilleindiana #nursejessa #clubxs #knotlessbraids #sundayfunday

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clubxoda · 4 years

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NUEVO CENTRO DEL UNIVERSO, BANDAS AUSSIES PARA SU PLACER DE ESCUCHA.(CLUBX)

Alguna vez escuché decir a un amigo que las verdaderas bandas de garaje siguen tocando en su garaje, ciertamente le decimos así a esta música porque los chicos enojados de los sesentas veían en ese lugar un paraíso para desahogarse, un espacio para convertirse en los reyes del mundo aunque fuese nada más en lo que durase el ensayo, los amplis prendidos, la aguja sobre el disco. Me gusta esta música porque dice mucho con realmente poco, primitivo, así es como uno vive, así es como me gusta que suenen las guitarras, y que lo que diga quien canta sea lo que me pasa por la mañana o un sábado por la noche o lo que le diría a una chica que me gusta, sin rodeos porque no se necesita una canción de 8 minutos para decirlo, mucho menos ponerle disfraces a la guitarra si con subirle el tono y el reverb al amplificador me alcanza. Un acorde, lo mejor, dos acordes, bien, tres acordes, ok, cuatro, equis, dijo alguna vez Peter Kember, bien ahí, estoy totalmente de acuerdo. La rebeldía y el talento de aquellos jóvenes que nos cautivaron grabando sólo 45’s y que difícilmente gozaron de fama fuera de su estado, refiriéndome específicamente a los grupos yankees, mediante un largo proceso de búsqueda de personas contagiadas de La Obsesión, llámelos coleccionistas, melómanos, músicos o entusiastas de este sonido, hizo posible que todas estas joyas llegaran a nuestros oídos, pues, como reza el título de una de las compilaciones más entrañables del género, ‘volvieron de la tumba’ donde estaban enterrados a fin de que no se perdiera la esencia del sonido de aquellos tiempos, la crudeza estaba de vuelta, los chicos que ensayaban en la cochera habían triunfado al final.

No era de sorprenderse que del otro lado del mundo los jóvenes, inspirados por los héroes que sonaban en esas salvajes compilaciones de sencillos y lados B, comenzaran su banda y, poniéndole cada uno su toque de talento y creatividad, lograran explotar un sonido que rogaba una nueva explosión, como aquella que tuvo lugar fugazmente en los ochentas, década del revival, que acabó por generar gran serie de bandas clones que imitaron hasta el cansancio y desgastaron los riffs de sus predecesores para lograr aburrirnos, se necesitaba música fresca, hacerle justicia una vez más al pedal de Fuzz y Reverb.

The Henchmen, The Deakins, The Atlantics, The Master’s Apprentices, The Elois, The Missing Links, The Easybeats y The Chosen Few, por nombrar algunos. ¿Qué tienen en particular estos grupos, aparte de lo genial de sus nombres? AUSTRALIA. Es sorprendente la cantidad de actos a mediados de los sesentas que con gran capacidad emulaban lo que del otro lado del mar se hacía, y sí, tal antecedente ayudó para lo que hoy por hoy se vive en dicho país. No se trata de elogiar una vez más Tame Impalas, Wolfmothers, Jets o The Vines, a esos mañana o pasado les vuelven a escribir un artículo. Regresémos a lo básico, a la cochera.

The Living Eyes. (Anti-Fade Records) Pertenecientes a la ciudad portuaria de Geelong (que será mencionada varias veces a partir de ahora) son un conjunto de 4 tipos aferrados al 60’s revival, guitarras estridentes y un vocal desquiciado incluido, con apenas dos largas duración (The Living Eyes, 2013 y Living Large, 2015) y unos cuantos sencillos, grabados en baja fidelidad –como tanto nos gusta- los convierte en un referente obligado, basta con escuchar su ep Livin’, el tema homónimo y A Mind In My Own, en el lado b, pero asegurándose de que el volumen sea enfermo, vamos, lo merecen, los Master’s Apprentices estarían orgullosos, lo juro.

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Hierophants. (Anti-fade, Aarght!!, Goner) Geelong, otra vez, que conste que advertí. Esta tengo que admitir que es una favorita personal, porque siempre sentiré nostalgia y cariño profundo por los desaparecidos Frowning Clouds, a los cuales jamás tuve la fortuna de ver, como sea, esta banda reúne a quienes para mi gusto, eran el alma de las nubes frunciendo el ceño, hablo del vocalista/guitarrista Zak Olsen y el bajista Jake Robertson a quienes se les une otro tipo en la batería y una chica en el teclado, una chica, en el teclado. Y aunque para su álbum debut modificaron en gran parte el sonido para introducir tintes pegándole al new wave, no se les puede negar que todos y cada uno de sus demos son puro oro. Surf, Garaje, Psych, es como mezclar a los Troggs con el Ty Segall crudo del 2007, querrás bailar, romper algo, tocar tu guitarra de aire, la prueba ahí está, directamente en el tubo, teclea ‘Wray Gunn’ y verás a lo que me refiero, te vas a menear, después ‘Human Being Human Going’ con un video que incluye a unos tales Ado and The Leaves (guys know their shit) debajo de unos coloridos efectos psicodélicos, te dará por poner a los Zakary Thaks sólo para aventarte contra la pared porque no tienes una batería al lado para aventarte encima, y mi consentida, que no sé cómo no la editaron jamás para sencillo, se trata de ‘Gang Gang Bird’ con un video grabado directamente desde el cuarto de alguien, amontonados, pero se hace lo que se puede, es solo Rock and Roll, ¿no? Gloria por siempre a The Frowning Clouds, sus ex miembros siguen en pie deleitándonos.

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Straight Arrows (Juvenile, HoZac, Goodbye Boozy) Ya era turno de remitirnos a la capital Australiana, y es que repasar el catálogo de estos jóvenes punks es una delicia, especialmente porque en ratos suenan al garaje a la escuela del pacífico noroeste de Norteamérica (Rocky and The Riddlers, Kingsmen o The Wailers) pero después le suben de intensidad y pareciese que se transforman en una banda de Punk, de esas que grababan como si estuvieran dentro de una caverna y el eco te derrite los oídos, y si alguna de estas bandas del listado rinde tributo a la revolución (por años casi invisible) que causó Lenny Kaye al recopilar todos esos ‘One Hit Wonders’ e intitulándolos ‘Nuggets’, son estos tipos y lo dejan en claro, canciones simples pero cuidadosamente armadas para que batería, bajo y la guitarra fuzzy suenen a la vieja usanza, vamos, hasta tienen una versión del clásico ‘Lies’ de los Knickerbockers. Hablarles de una u otra canción es menospreciarlos, por favor sírvase de dar un paseo por dos largas duraciones (It’s Happening de 2010 y Rising de 2014) y un bonche de sencillos y ep’s, ¿recuerdan lo de hacerle justicia al fuzz? A esto, cavernícolas, me refería.

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Cobwebbs (Lost Race, Sonic Masala, Saturno) Brisbane es una de las ciudades más grandes del país que nos concierne y es el lugar de origen de las Telarañas, quienes van más por el lado psych de los Nuggets anterioirmente mencionados y le imprimen todas esas tardes pegados a las tornamesas a su sonido, porque no se quedan en la onda garage/psych, se les nota que quieren ir de la mano del shoegaze, si, shoegaze aussie, dream pop y demás cosas interesantísimas que hacen pensar que se trata de una agrupación contemporánea que bien podría ser de Austin TX, meca de la psicodelia, pero no, y no quisiera animar ni motivar el uso de aditivos para mejorar la experiencia auditiva que uno tiene al escuchar su álbum ‘All Around’, pero tampoco es mi intención engañarlos, pipa, encendedor y audífonos de calidad son recomendables, compruébelo usted mismo. Canciones que si bien son un poco más largas, digamos, pasan de los 4 minutos pero sin caer en el absurdo, son también pasajes que van desde un sonido crudo que va subiendo desde un solo riff hasta formar un muro de sonido, con vocales que apenas y son entendibles pues se pierden entre los instrumentos, pero que cuando logran hacerse un espacio entre ellos, te llegan directo a la cara cual escupitajo, ‘Locals Only’, reza el título de la canción que abre su más reciente tapa, ‘Wold Wide Webbs’ una voz que ladra como perro, bajo potente y solos de guitarra invertidos, y otra vez ese sonido que pareciera sale del sótano y que suena a través de todo el disco, vaya outsiders, vaya psychsters, hay quienes aún rinden culto a los pioneros, Roky Erickson, Jim Quarles, Tommy James o Kim Fowley, eso da fe en la humanidad.

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Los Tones (Groovie Records) De vuelta a Sydney, la (otra) cereza del pastel, pronunciados como ‘los touns’ son unos contemporáneos de esos que lo hacen ver tan fácil que te vuelves loco. Melodías pegajosas, sencillas de unos cuantos acordes y el punteo clásico acompañando todo aquello, y si, si querían más alaridos de perro, despáchense hasta reventar, Bodie Jarman, el frontman con bigote a la actor porno vintage, tiene hasta para llevar. Cuando un amigo me los puso pensé que se trataba de los Uh Bones, de Illinois, el primer corte de su único larga duración ‘Psychotropic’ (aquí no incitamos a nada, según) así me lo hizo pensar, sin embargo estos van un poquito más allá, ‘Shake Down’, ‘Buchanan Hammer’ (a lo Mourning Reign y su potente Satisfaction Guaranteed), y ese magnífico ‘Can’t Get Enough’ que recuerda a los Parrots de Madrid, qué gran disco, suena Psychotropic para que empiece la fiesta, suelta la botella y coge tu guitarra de aire, será inevitable que te pongas a bailar. Desafortunadamente el disco fue un tremendo sold out, pero la web está para salvarnos, que nada ni nadie te impida escuchar a estos bellacos.

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Son solo 5 agrupaciones que merecen ser escuchadas, dirijamos los oídos hacia países que pensábamos tenían una escena muerta, Australia no acaba aquí, por supuesto, pero esta es la probadita para que usted se decida a comprar el producto completo, King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard, The Murlocs, The Babe Rainbow, Pipe Eye, Ausmuteants, ORB, son la punta del Iceberg, afortunadamente decidimos chocar y hundirnos hasta el fondo, La Obsesión así lo dicta y no podemos hacer nada al respecto. Las verdaderas bandas de garaje están haciendo música desde ahí, qué gusto, un placer poder apreciarles, hasta el próximo número, salud.

Keep Music Evil.

Reyes Carlos. <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<< <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<< <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<< <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

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dreamgirl4certain · 5 years

Text

The Elevator Bae

ONE TWO THREE

Chapter FOUR

Erik x Black OC (Phoenix)

Word Count: 5k