#*US. just be be perfectly clear. this song is a thing in my country is what im trying to say

[kalmeria]

please watch my magnum opus (volume up!!)

[video description: a clip from the music video of eccentric party night by the five eccentrics from ensemble stars, but the audio is replaced with rumadai by arsenium. end description]

[heartsforvin]

THE GREATEST

billie fr was in my head makin this song cus why did it describe everything that happened to me in the past so perfectly ???? MORE TOXIC!VINNIE CUS YALL FREAKS N LUV HIM (twin)

pairing: vinnie hacker x fem!reader

warnings: angst, cussing, arguing, use of pet names, mentions of being used, mentions of sex, toxic relationship,degrading words used, if i missed anything lmk !

summary: it was clear vinnie never truly loved you and only wanted you for one thing, but coming to terms with it was the difficult part

during the early days of your relationship with vinnie, everything was great. nice dates, movie nights in, he even took you out of the country a few times.

as the months progressed and days went by, you noticed a change in the man you grew to love.

he’d become distant, only really calling, texting, and coming to your place in convenience to himself.

the two of you haven’t been together for too, too long, only about two years. in that two years you’ve shared parts and sides of you you’ve never shared before.

so when he stopped coming by just because he truly missed you and actually wanted to see you, you were crushed.

you didn’t know how to tell him, so you’ve kept it inside for months on end.

you love vinnie, truly, truly love him, but you’re feeling like he doesn’t love you anymore.

or never did.

◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡

“baby come on, just once for me, please?”

you and vinnie were laying in his bed, you cuddled into him with your leg around his. his hand was on your ass, squeezing every so often, trying to tell you he wanted something.

you knew what he wanted, it’s all he’s been wanting for weeks now. the two of you barely even spoke an actual sentence that didn’t include him asking for sex.

he barely complimented you, barely touched you in the soft, loving way he used to, barely even talked to you.

“vinnie, no.” you push his chest as he leans in for a kiss.

he scoffs and rolls his eyes as he unwraps himself from your embrace. your heart sinks at the loss of contact.

even if the relationship is crumbling, you still love to feel his warm embrace, still loving that feeling, the feeling of him in your arms.

“when you’d become such a prude? you used to be all up on me, now it’s like i don’t exist.”

you just sit there staring at the man in front of you, internally scoffing to yourself at his choice of words.

you weren’t a slut and you definitely were not a prude. you used to love sex with the blonde, that was until it only became sex.

he was really good at it, that you cannot lie about. things change though, he’s changed.

vinnie stands there with his arms crossed, thinking to himself what he definitely should not be thinking when the two of you are in the middle of an argument.

“come on,” he coaxes, rubbing your arm in the way he used to when the two of you would be in the mood. “you know you won’t be mad anymore once we start.”

now that, you actually do audibly scoff at. not believing he even thought to say something like that.

all it’s been for the past few weeks is sex, him asking you for nudes when he’s out of town and ‘misses you’, and not enough actual love.

you’re surprised with yourself honestly. you love him so much, that’s why you can’t escape.

you have to though. it’s obviously clear he doesn’t love you the way you do anymore.

“you don’t love me.” the words come out so soft, you almost didn’t hear yourself speak.

vinnie crosses his arms over his chest again and rolls his eyes at you. of course he loves you, why would he still be with you if he didn’t?

“i love you, baby.” the pet name sounds sour coming out of his mouth now that he’s only using you for one thing.

you cringe at the name, hoping for once he’d actually call you by your real name for once.

standing up off the bed, you’re now face to face with the man. the height do is noticeable and for a minute, you think it’s cute how vinnie is a few inches taller than you.

you open your mouth to speak but suddenly nothing comes out, like you’re at a loss for words.

oddly enough, you kind of are. for weeks on end you’ve felt like just an object to the man. you can’t believe this is happening, you thought he was the one.

sitting back on the bed, you cross your legs as you face your boyfriend, who still had the same expression on his face.

“no, you don’t love me, vinnie. you haven’t for weeks — what makes you think that?!” his outburst scares you and you physically jump.

he does nothing to comfort you though, you’ve pissed him off and he wants to know why you think he doesn’t love you.

“all i’ve been to you is sex. any time it’s convenient to you, any time your dick is hard i’m your girlfriend again, but only for a short amount of time. i’m sick of this!”

sobs escape your mouth, cheeks and eyes red as you cry out to your boyfriend. all you’ve ever wanted was unconditional love from the boy in front of you.

vinnie’s silent in front of you, suddenly having no words to speak. you sigh, a choked sob leaving you as you wipe your tears.

“i can’t keep fucking doing this, vinnie!” you scream out, letting out all your pent up anger.

he just lets you, taking it head on as you cry your heart out to him.

you so badly want to crash into his chest, for him to hold you and reassure you that everything will be okay.

“baby—no, you do not get to fucking ‘baby’ me when you’re quite literally the one using me!”

vinnie knows everything you’re saying is true. he stopped loving you awhile ago but didn’t want to let you go.

he knew it was wrong, he knew using you for his own pleasure wasn’t right and you deserved so much better.

“do you know how it feels to be used?” you ask, sniffing and rubbing your tear stained cheeks.

vinnie nods his head, knowing full well. “doesn’t feel good, does it?” vinnie nods at your question.

you stand up, coming face to face with him again. “when did you stop loving me?”

that was the first question you wanted the answer to. you needed to know exactly when he stopping showing you the affection you did him.

vinnie sighs. “i want you to know first, that in the beginning i did love you. i loved you so much it physically hurt,” he starts, making you tear up. “but after awhile it just became too much, and all i really wanted was sex.”

you stay silent as he continues. “i didn’t want to break your heart and break up, so i just thought if we stayed together and kept doing what we do, it wouldn’t hurt you so bad.”

you scoff and laugh at his words. “you thought instead of coming to me and telling me you didn’t love me anymore, and that fucking me just because you didn’t want to hurt me, is better?”

your tone is visibly irritated, and vinnie knows he’s fucked up big time. he rubs his hand over his face and sighs.

“well when you put it like that it sounds awful.”he tells you. once the words leave his mouth he immediately wants to take it back, it was such an obvious statement.

you push his chest in frustration but he doesn’t get very far, landing back on his feet. “maybe because it is?” you question sarcastically.

you can’t stand the way he’s acting right now, like this whole thing was absolutely no big deal. you loved him with your whole heart, he knows things most people don’t.

you trusted him.

“i didn’t want to hurt you.” his voice is soft, low tone. he truly didn’t want to hurt you, he just thought this was the best thing to do.

he stopped loving you, that he knew. he wanted to keep the sexual aspect of the relationship though, so he didn’t think much of it.

“why didn’t you just come to me instead of basically faking your love for me?” your voice cracked at the words, making vinnie’s heart break on the inside.

he sighs, running a hand through his hair as he tries to piece the right words.

“i really don’t know,” he starts. “everything became too much, i told you that. i wanted to tell you, then something got in the way and then i just decided to do the one thing i know that would put all of it aside for a bit.”

you knew what that was, and hearing him say it out loud instead of the thought lingering in your head hurt more than you could imagine.

you felt disgusted, ashamed at yourself for letting him just outright use you like that. for the sex, for your body, everything.

vinnie reaches out to grab your hand, but you back away and shake your head.

the last thing you want right now is for him to touch you in any sort of way. everything hurts, and feeling his touch would completely break you.

“i made it all look painless because i didn’t want to upset you,” you speak, looking down at the ground before facing the boy in front of you. “so i guess i hurt myself in the end, but you’re still the cause.”

the cause.

vinnie’s chest tightened at those two words. he can’t believe he did this, cant believe he was the cause of you feeling so disgusted and ashamed.

“i’m not going to say i’m sorry, because i know that won’t help it any. looking back, i fucked up more than ever and i feel absolutely fucking awful for putting you through this.”

tears well in your eyes as he continues. “you’re one of the most kindest, sweetest people i know, and knowing now how much hurt i’ve put you through over the past few weeks, makes me feel awful.”

he sighs, hoping he’s making sense and hoping you’ll take his words into consideration.

“i will say im sorry for making you feel used. when you sent those things while i was out of town, i thought it wasn’t just for my desire, but yours too.”

you sniffle and wipe your eyes. “i did it to make you happy. so i wouldn’t upset you. the pictures don’t bother me as much as the sex does,” you explain.

“you knew i took that seriously, you knew that was important to me when we first got together. yet, you took it for granted.”

you did consent to everything he had done, so it wasn’t like it was unconsenual and nothing you really didn’t want.

he nodded his head, knowing you were right. “i know, and i feel terrible for making you feel like this.”

you sigh and try to dry your eyes. sitting back on the bed, you move up to the headboard and hold your legs against your chest.

“i just wanted what i gave you.” you whispered.

vinnie knew what you meant. you gave all your love to him but he never did the same, just used you.

“you don’t know how long i waited and waited, hoping that one day you’d give me the love and passion i gave to you,” you sniffle. “but it never came.”

vinnie stays quiet, having nothing to say because he knew nothing would make up for any of this.

mere minutes passed before you spoke up again. you looked at him, teary and red eyed before saying, “i think i need some time to regroup and space,” you say quietly. “just give me a minute and i’ll leave.”

vinnie nodded and left his room without a word. the minute his bedroom door shut, that’s when you let it all let go. you couldn’t hold back anything.

you felt so stupid and oblivious to the situation. you did notice change in him, but you didn’t want it to be true.

after a few minutes, you wiped your eyes and stood up off the bed. you grabbed your things and put your shoes on, leaving vinnies room.

giving him a weak smile, you head straight to the front door without a word. you open the door before turning your head to face vinnie.

“i’ll be back for my stuff another day, just gimme time, please.” your voice cracks as you speak.

vinnie nods and tries his best to not run to you and hold you in his arms. he knows it’s over, it was over the minute this whole argument started.

“i’ll be here, take all the time you need.” with that, you give him a small smile before leaving his apartment.

as you walked to the elevator, you thought you truly were the greatest person right now. keeping your feelings in when he did that to you for so long. you’re just glad it’s over now.

hi hi !!! currently at work when i post this !! network is down and i have nothing else to do so i decided to finish this !!

i hope you all enjoyed <33

tags: @cosmicanakin , @anqeliclust , @native2princess , @sturnioloshacker , @visualbutterflysworld , @bernelflo , @leqonsluv3r , @0strawberrysorbet0 , @slvthrs , @lovingsturniolo , @louloulemons-blog , @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom , @khxna , @laylasbunbunny , @hallecarey1 , @kriissy4gov , @supabhad , @kayleighh , @violet0182 , @defnotayonna , @jpg3 , @eddieslut69

[jadeshifting]

— 100 SCRIPTING IDEAS.

TODAY’S ISSUE: ROAD TRIPS

　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　

(can you tell that i’ve been watching a lot of supernatural and that a lottttt of my lovely brain matter is made up of dreamy thoughts of 1967 chevy impalas? anyways.) here’s a list of 100 road trip-related things to include in your script, blending safety precautions with vivid, romanticized gestures to ensure your trip is the ride-or-die experience

BAREFOOT ON THE BLACKTOP . you kick off your shoes at an empty overlook, dancing barefoot on the sun-warmed pavement to music from the car—your laughter carried by the wind like a love song in itself

BLANKETED BACKSEAT . you turn the backseat into a cozy nest of blankets and cushy pillows for stargazing out the sunroof, or sneaky naps on peaceful stretches of empty road

BREAKDOWN IMMUNITY . the car never breaks down, runs out of gas, or overheats—smooth sailing guaranteed

BREEZE ON DEMAND . every time you roll the windows down, the breeze sweeps through your hair in the most cinematic way, always giving you your effortlessly windswept moment

CACTUS ADOPTION . you pull over at one of those random desert gift shops, buy a tiny cactus, and name it something dumb like Spike. now you have a plant baby for the rest of your time on the road (always room for more company)

CAMPSITE WITH A VIEW . campsites you stop at are free, with stunning starry skies, a gentle breeze, and no mosquitoes

CANDIDS . your lover or other travel companions appreciate you in all your windblown, on-the-road charm, and take plenty of perfectly cinematic pics to reflect that (you’ll never run out of “this was your mom when she was younger” pics from this trip)

CANDY STAYS SOLID . it never melts, even if it’s left in the car on scorching days

CAR CHARCUTERIE . you pack a fancy charcuterie board for snacking on the go—because road trip food doesn’t always have to be basic or dripping in grease

CAR ROOF . you lay on the roof of the car—middle of the night to admire the crystal-clear stars out on the dark roads, or middle of the day to find ridiculous shapes in the billowing clouds

CAR WASH . you have to stop at least once to rinse off the car, and to show off how good you look when you accidentally get sprayed with the hose (bonus points if it turns into an all-out washer frenzy and everyone ends up soaked)

CHERRY STEMS . make pit stops for cherry slushies, though you have to challenge your lover to a knot-tying contest with the stems (loser owes the winner, duh)

CHILLED DRINKS . your cooler ensures you can always crack open icy bottles of soda, sparkling waters, and chilled juice

COFFEE KEEPER . your lover hands you their still-warm mug from the roadside cafe, trusting you to hold it steady as they drive, fingers brushing every time they reach over for a sip—shared warmth lingering like a secret between you

COFFEE STOPS . gas station coffee actually tastes like a barista brewed it (not like a troll spat in it)

COMPLIMENTARY PRIZES . your stays at hotels and motels include complimentary snacks, crisp sodas and drinks for the road, and little bars of soap that you can take with you (you’ll never use them, but they’re good souvenirs)

CORNFIELD CONFESSIONS . you’re bound to find yourself on a random country road lined with cornfields—you stop, take a slow walk through the fields, and whisper secrets to your companion, or maybe just for the corn stalks to hear. they’ll keep them for you

CROISSANT STOPS . hunt for bakeries in between the greasy diners and roadside attractions, savor flaky pastries and share buttery kisses with your lover

DASHBOARD POLAROIDS . take snapshots and tuck them into the dashboard—like an evolving scrapbook of your route

DASHBOARD STARRY NIGHTS . park at a quiet overlook, the kind that sits atop a twinkling town—lean back against the dashboard, and watch the stars flicker like they’re putting on a show just for you, fall asleep in the car overnight and know that you’re safe

DIVE BAR CRAWL . find the dimmest, shadiest dive bar on your route to have a cheeseburger at, and ignore whatever sticky stain is on the table because you’re so immersed in winning the game of pool afterwards

DREAMY HITCHHIKERS . you meet fascinating characters with wild stories at each pit stop, the kind of people that keep you chattering about them until you meet another—you have countless stories by the time your trip is done, even if they aren’t your own

DRIVE-IN DREAMING . pull up to a small-town drive-in theater, snuggle under a blanket barely big enough for the two of you, and enjoy whatever grainy film they’re showing (including the little cluster of mosquitos drawn to the projection)

EARBUD ENTANGLEMENT . when the radio cuts out in the middle of nowhere, untangle those wired earbuds—hopefully your worst challenge so far—then share them, one earbud each, and lean your head on their shoulder until the radio recovers

FARM STANDS . roadside farm stand litter the parts of your route that traverse through the old back country, you snag a warm blackberry pie and a bottle of freezing lemonade, and devour it with sticky fingers while the sun sets behind the hills

FAST FOOD INSURANCE . drive-throughs have no lines and mess up zero orders (imagine the time you’d lose having to walk all the way inside, faint)

FIREWORKS FROM THE FREEWAY . somewhere along the stretch of road, you catch fireworks bursting far off on the horizon; you both roll down the windows, laughter mingling with the breeze, turning a moment of chance into unplanned exhilaration

FIZZY CHEERS . keep a champagne, a sparkling water, or at least a soda pop on hand that you can shake up—at least once you’ll have to pop a bottle and toast to the scenery or your adventures

FLAT-FREE TIRES . no popped tires, ever, no matter the terrain or debris

FOOD TRUCK CRAWL . dedicate at least a day to eating at every food truck you find along the way—you never know what gems you’ll find roadside

FOREVER PHONE SIGNAL . even in the middle of nowhere or heading up to the peaks of the mountains, your phone bars stay strong

GAS STATION GOURMAND . you comb through aisles of offbeat snacks with reverence—spicy chips, sugared sodas, neon candies—and present your finds to your lover who’s pumping gas, their smile your prize

GAS STATION LUXE . at all the rest stops, the bathrooms are shockingly clean and smell like cooling mint and lavender

GHOST TALES . you’re bound to drive through some creepy areas late at night, make up some tales to scare the shit out of eachother—maybe it’ll lighten the mood (or make it worse, shrug)

GINGHAM DAYDREAMS . spot a cute country diner with red gingham curtains and grab coffee swirled with cream and sugar inside while you plan your imaginary life as locals

GOLDEN HOUR . your lover catches you staring at them while they drive, golden-hour light spilling across their face, and with a smirk they say, “What?”—but you only laugh softly, pressing your forehead to the window, the only answer the quickened beat of your heart

GRIMY GLAMOUR . with the angelic outfits you must have planned for your trip, it shouldn’t be difficult to turn a grimy rest stop into a photo op that’s inspired—bonus points if you take pictures by the gas pump when you don’t even pump your own gas (if you do, why isn’t your lover doing it for you, hm?)

HIDDEN GEM GAS STATIONS . you stumble across plenty of gas stations with charming shops, delicious snacks, and most importantly: clean bathrooms

INTERIOR LIGHTS . customizable mood lighting inside the car—cozy purples and night sky blues for evening drives, electric neon pinks and yellows for when it’s hyper late at night

LATE NIGHT PASTRIES . in a sleepy town, you and your companions wander into a 24-hour bakery, the scent of freshly baked croissants wrapping around you like a warm hug—sitting side by side on a bench outside, nibbling on buttery treats, the world still and waiting for tomorrow

LIGHTER FLICK FABLES . use an old-school lighter (of your own, or borrowed from the gruff gas station attendant) to roast mini marshmallows at a pitstop and tell stupid, terrifically creepy campfire stories with tired grins

LIKE A DJ BOOTH . the car has an absolutely killer sound system that you can fully trust to provide arguably the most crucial facet of your trip (what’s the point of anything without a cinematic soundtrack?)

LOCAL LOVE . the locals always give you great tips on where to eat, visit, or explore whenever you’re visiting (no one gives you the evil eye for being out of town)

LOST & LOVING IT . you take a wrong turn on purpose, just to stumble on a scenic route or some unexpected roadside attraction that’s unbelievably weird but just perfect enough to feel like fate

LOVE-LOCKED . find a bridge to leave a love lock with your initials on it—the proof of your trip is eternal, and your love with the person you took it with

LUXURY IS A MINDSET . rundown motels can be the peak of your trip with the beaten-up quilts wrapping around you and whoever you’re snuggling, the carpeting under your sore feet, and the buzz of the cheap TV playing some grainy film you’d see at your grandmother’s house

LYRICAL GENIUSES . your road trip companions know the words to the songs on your playlist (so you actually have someone to sing along with)

MAIN STREET MAGIC . wander down the Main Street of a tiny town, hold hands while you browse antique stores and the little local coffee shop like you’re building a storybook life, even just for a few hours

MAP-MARKED MEMORY . with an old paper map sprawled across your lap, you mark the stops with little hearts—here’s where you kissed by the river, here’s where you found the world’s best pie, here’s where the day felt endless and perfect

MIDNIGHT MILKSHAKES . a 24-hour diner on the edge of nowhere becomes a sacred stop, the two of you sharing a single strawberry milkshake, pink foam bubbling against your lips as your knees bump beneath the table

MIDNIGHT SWIMMING . stop at a lake under the stars (if there’s no lakes, there’s always local pools to be broken into), go for a dip in the middle of the night, hold on tight to your lover (even if you’re not scared)

MIRROR SCRIBBLES . keep a dry-erase marker handy so you can leave little notes on the windows (or so you can scribble things like “graduation trip, cashapp $10” on the back windshield)

MORNING MISSIONS . your breakfast stops consist of stacks of pancakes at roadside diners, all the syrup you can imagine, and steaming coffee enjoyed in cozy booths to prepare you for the day ahead

MUSIC GENIE . your playlist seems to curate itself without any help—every song feels like it was perfectly destined for your current stretch of road

NAPKIN NOTES . leave a little love note on a pie-stained napkin from a roadside diner and tuck it into your lover’s bag for them to find later—old-school romance at its finest

NECK MASSAGES . as the road drags on, you massage your lover’s neck so they don’t get stiff from driving, your fingers working their skin gently while they give you that “you’re too good to me” look out of the corner of their eye

NEVER-LOST GPS . your navigation system always finds the quickest, safest, and most scenic routes—you never get turned around

OCEAN OVERLOOK . you pull off the winding road to a quiet bluff, where the sea stretches endlessly below—your lover resting their head on your shoulder as the two of you sit on the hood of the car, wrapped in a shared blanket, breathing in salt-kissed air and listening to waves crash

OLD-SCHOOL . give a paper map a shot—there’s something charming about a crinkled map that you can’t quite tell up from down on

OVERNIGHT OASIS . you spend at least one night at a kitschy roadside motel, hang string lights in the room, and earn bonus points if you and your lover pretend it’s your honeymoon suite

OVERNIGHT TALKS . you have the kind of nights driving through to morning, and you stay awake to keep the driver company—you have the kind of talks that flow into deep questions and love over sleepy giggles on the dark road

OWL VISION . crystal-clear visibility on dark roads and during rainstorms

PASSENGER PRINCESS PERKS . your lover is more than happy to handle the wheel while you lounge, snack, and play the part of DJ—being spoiled is half the fun, no?

PEN PALS . you buy postcards and write cute little messages to send home, so you have a stack of them to return to

PETROL . at a quiet gas station, the scent of petrol lingers sweetly in the summer heat while you lean lazily against the car, your lover watching you with an affection so soft it feels like a whispered secret

PHOTO BOOTH HOPPING . you and your lover stop at every roadside diner or shop with a photo booth, you take enough snapshots to fill an album with proof of your love on the road

PICNIC PERFECT . the rest stops you visit have finely manicured picnic areas, where you can actually sit on picnic benches to enjoy your five-dollar food

PINNED POLAROID . a gas station break turns cinematic when your friend snaps a Polaroid of you mid-sip of Coke—your blurry smile and sunlit hair forever pinned to the car’s dashboard

POP THE QUESTION . buy ring pops at a rest stop and exchange them with your lover like they’re three-carat diamonds—it’s the thought that counts

POWER NAPS . snuggling in the backseat to nap feels almost too cozy, you sink into the seat cushions dreamily and sleep tight

PROSE PIXIE . your lover lets you entertain them while they drive by reading your favorite novel out loud to them—soothed by the sound of your voice, while you get to enjoy your favorite narrative all the same

QUIET DRIVE . you get moments of silence, holding hands with your lover while they drive, lulled by nothing but the hum of the car and your own breathing

RAINBOW SIGHTINGS . driving through the rain isn’t for nothing, since rainbows appear after all of them

RAIN-SWEPT . s summer storm sends rain cascading down the windshield like liquid silver; you park in an empty lot, the car becoming your refuge, as you both sit there hand in hand, surrounded by the rhythm of the world outside

ROADSIDE GOURMET . the best greasy-spoon diners and taco trucks appear on your route (somehow exactly when you’re hungry, hm)

ROADSIDE REVELATIONS . long, quiet stretches of road are the place to share your deepest, darkest secrets and confessions with your travel companions—trust grows with the miles

ROCKY BEACH . pull off at a hidden rocky beach, skip stones, and collect driftwood tokens to stash in the trunk as souvenirs—the best kind of beach is the kind with no sand, you’ll want to remember it forever

ROOT BEER FLOATS . you park at a vintage soda fountain, sip on a giant root beer float under the beating sun with two straws, and argue playfully over who gets the last sip

SELF-CLEANING INTERIOR . no crumbs, stains, or sticky messes—ever

SHARED SHERBET. an orange sherbet cone sits precariously in their grip as you lean over to steal a bite, lips brushing their knuckles for a half-second too long—sweetness lingering long after the ice cream melts

SNACK HOLDERS . the cupholders manage to fit anything you need, from your morning coffee cups to family-sized chip bags

SNACK SMUGGLER . your best friend hands you a crinkling bag of gummy worms they stashed like contraband, grinning as they remind you why road trips taste better when snacks are sneakily passed between seats

STARGAZING . you pull over under a sky so clear the stars feel close enough to touch, sprawling on the car hood side by side—hands brushing as you name the constellations you know and make up stories for the ones you don’t

STORM STOPS . you find quaint inns or diners when rain hits, making bad weather feel romantic, rather than inconvenient

STRETCH ROOM . the car always feels just roomy enough for everyone, without you having to lug some massive RV down the highway

SUNRISES . make sure you wake up early enough to watch the sunrise together, the way the pinks and golds light up the windshield, and whisper to eachother while the world is still waking up

SUNVISOR ANGEL . reapply your lipstick in the sun visor mirror, and smirk a little bit because you know they’re sneaking a glance at you longingly

SUGAR STOP . your lover buys you a pack of your favorite candy, unprompted at a gas station—a quiet indulgence shared between kisses sticky with sweetness and the crinkle of wrappers in the cup holder

SUNDAE FUN . you pull into a sun-drenched diner with chrome stools and checkered floors, where your lover orders the tallest ice cream sundae on the menu—two spoons, one glass, and a cascade of whipped cream that melts faster than you can catch it, leaving you both giggling through shared bites, the sweetness lingering long after the last cherry is gone

TIRE BLOWOUT . but only so you have an excuse to watch your lover change a tire, and give them a little bit of motivation to hurry up and get back in the car

TOUCHY DRIVER . your lover can’t keep their hands off of you while driving, holding your hand and stroking it with their thumb gently, placing a steady hand on your knee or your thigh, and leaning over to steal kisses (though they should probably keep their eyes on the road)

TRAVEL TOKENS . gather little keepsakes—pressed pennies, matchbooks, postcards, or receipts with dumb doodles on the back, so you can keep them all together and remember even the tiniest details from your trip

TRUCKER GLITZ . one of the places you stop for gas must have tacky trucker hats you can get to match, bonus points if they’re bedazzled

TUCKED AWAY NAPS . borrow your lover’s worn-out charcoal gray sweatshirt, curl up with it as a pillow against the window and pretend the hum of the road is a lullaby

TWILIGHT FIREFLIES . fireflies appear in the evening, adding an unexpectedly moody and intimate glow to your rest stops

VINTAGE MOTEL . you stumble upon a roadside relic bathed in neon glow, its sign flickering like a heartbeat from another era—inside, you and your lover collapse onto a creaky bedspread patterned with faded roses, sharing laughter that echoes off chipped walls and stories whispered under the hum of a buzzing fluorescent light

WEATHER WHISPERER . the weather seems to very conveniently adjust to be perfect for driving and sightseeing

WILDFLOWERS . you collect the wildflowers at the pit stops and along the cracked blacktop of gas stations, because the prettiest flowers always seem to thrive outside of gardens

WINDCHIME FIND . you spot a rusted roadside antique shop and stumble upon a delicate windchime, its soft notes singing into the afternoon as you mull over hanging it on the rearview mirror—a gentle soundtrack for the miles ahead

WORLD’S LARGEST EVERYTHING . make a pact to stop at every “world’s largest” attraction on the way to your destination (i’m partial to the world’s largest peanut. sue me)

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 11/5/2024

i am going to do my absolute fucking best to stay off the internet today. also the next time i write one of these i will be goddamn thirty. yeesh.

listening

it took three hours to make a normally brisk 50-minute trip back from the airport on sunday bc there were simply so many accidents. my phone wasn't charging, i was kind of locked into the one way i actually knew how to get home, it was pouring, and the only radio station that was reliably coming through was the local dad rock station.

i don't think i've ever actually heard this song all the way through before! i have of course heard the chorus in eight billion advertisements and trailers etc, but i tuned in right at the lyrics

I was a willow last night in my dream I bent down over a clear running stream Sang you the song that I heard up above And you kept me alive with your sweet flowing love

big ren faire lady of shallott vibes.

-

reading

witch hat atelier, the first twelve volumes that are out in english anyway. let's yoink the setup from the fan wiki.

Coco, a girl living in a small village, had been dreaming of becoming a magician since little. But people who don't know how to use magic since birth are unable to become magicians, or witness the moment magic occurs. But one day, Coco accidentally saw Qifrey, a magician that was visiting the village casting a spell. Ecstatic to finally know how magic works, she tries it immediately and transforms her mother into a stone statue. With the help of Qifrey and his disciples, Coco will embark in a magical journey to save her mother.

this gets a lot of ghibli comparisons, and i get it-- there's a lot of concern about healing scars from a near-cataclysmic magical war, lots of contraptions, bucolic countryside, loving shots of food, etc. i think there is a focus on academia and cohort-building, and how networking is a profession all to itself, that we do not generally see in ghibli films. i think the comp pull should go beyond the aesthetics, as well, but ghibli is still a good comp-- the world of witch hat atelier is dangerous and can hurt or kill you, but it treats the reader's heart with the same care a ghibli movie will. things may not be happily ever after or go perfectly at all times, but there are no twists for the sake of twists, and it doesn't sneer or make fun of you for caring about a character. there are no whedonesque "well THAT happened!" moments. these characters are going to learn and grow and you will learn and grow along with them goddamnit. it is queer but incidentally queer. the folx side of the fags-folx spectrum will feel very welcome here but this is not a tenderqueer kind of gay book. characters are incidentally gay because of course they are, that's just how the world works, look at all the fullness of human expression you can encounter in your one short life, why NOT be gay

i did not expect this series to kickstart a fresh wave of grief for my own academic experience. coco leans on her cohort so much and they truly do work together to solve problems and come up with good solutions and i wish i had had that kind of astronomy experience. it's kind of cold comfort that i don't know and have never heard of a woman having a good astronomy experience.

witch hat atelier: very fun to sink into the details on a page (Kamome Shirahama knows how functional but pretty clothes work), endlessly charming veneer on a very taut game of political ethics happening in the grownups' background

-

watching

happy noirvember!!!

Another Man's Poison (1952, dir. Rapper) courtesy of Kanopy's little revolving carousel of new noir films.

An English mystery writer (Bette Davis) kills her husband, then tries to kill a man (Gary Merrill) posing as her husband.

In his review in New Statesman and Nation, Frank Hauser wrote "No one has ever accused Bette Davis of failing to rise to a good script; what this film shows is how far she can go to meet a bad one."

a plot that could only happen in a country where appearances are everything. i must agree with mr hauser and most of the critics of the time who said Huh???? to the script and basic premise. AND the ending is a little too pat. a breakneck ninety minutes filmed in three months where its stage play bones show. however i really like Bette Davis and it's so much fun to watch Bette Davis pace around an English manor house like a caged tiger.

-

playing

fallow week, i am having a consistent problem with the now five year old gaming rig overheating and once i solve that issue i am very excited to play Red Dead Redemption the original (thank you again @pasta-pardner !)

-

making

deep cleaned my entire house. drove three hundred miles this weekend to pick up my sister and her friend from the airport, go to the ren faire, come back from the ren faire, and take them back to the airport. houston delivered to me some of the worst fucking driving experiences i have ever had here. really upsetting torrential downpour for nearly an hour on a road with no shoulder to speak of.

the actual ren faire was fun! i did not realize how vital a chair or bench with a fucking back was to my rest and recovery. it was nice to go with fellow adults and not help wrangle several small children, as fun as a kid-friendly experience can be. got my overpriced gyro for the year. got my bootleg anime merch for the year. wish it hadn't rained but i feel very smug for packing enough umbrellas and ponchos.

[yunhsuanhuang]

LOVE SONGS IN A FOREIGN LANGUAGE | YH HUANG

With apologies to A.L.

When I'm seventeen, I put a picture of Loretta Lynn in the back of my clear phone case. With the same care my best friends take in decorating trading cards of Jungkook and Jisoo, I get a pair of tweezers and my most expensive stickers, and make an afternoon out of sticking little daisies all over a glossy black-and-white printout of Loretta in the 70's. In the picture she's leaning against a tree, her dark hair long and thick, smiling at the viewer with the same unshakable confidence she's always had.

The next day, I slap my phone face-down on the cafeteria table. My friends go oh-my-god and you-actually-did-it and wait-that's-kinda-cute. We propose swapping some of our cards–I get Minho, she gets Randy– until the conversation derails to exams and teachers and the presentation that's due on Wednesday but none of us have started.

Then it's two weeks later, and when I wake up, thirteen hours after Kentucky does, I read that Loretta Lynn has passed away. A clickbait news site uses the same picture for her obituary.

Sometimes I feel like everything I love is already gone and I just don't know it yet.

-

so why do you like country music, my friend Alex asks me once.

Alex is American, but the South is as alien a place to him as it is to me– he grew up in suburban New Hampshire, after all, in an impossibly huge house bursting with beach-themed paraphernalia. America, to him, is Dunkin' Donuts and perfectly manicured lawns and the pale foam of the Atlantic cutting itself open over and over again against the sharpness of the rocks.

I squint at my phone. It's late, and I'm probably supposed to be asleep by now, but I'm fifteen and the year is 2020 and time stopped mattering somewhere in the middle of March. It's not like I have school tomorrow, anyway.

I type and retype my message for a while. Then, because it sounds about as good a reason as any, I say, idk i just like the fiddles

It's true. I do like the fiddles, and the steel guitar and the autoharp and the banjos too– the joyful clatter of it, the melody so much like flight. During quarantine, I spend a lot of time lying on the bedroom floor with my headphones on, blaring bluegrass at ear-destroying volumes. Maybe if I play it loud enough, if I squeeze my eyes shut hard enough, I can transport myself into the real thing: a honky-tonk with wood-panelled walls, heat and whiskey in the air, some familiar rhythm reverberating through the floorboards. Sometimes I even imagine myself there in the crowd, singing along.

–

In 1957, a song called Geisha Girl by Hank Locklin topped the country and western charts. It's about this American guy who arrives in Japan, falls in love with the titular Japanese geisha, and leaves his American wife for her. Well-trodden ground, both in art and in reality– after World War 2 ended, tens of thousands of Japanese women married American men for love, for money or for everything in between. Locklin's Geisha Girl became so popular that a song was released in reply to it–Skeeter Davis' Lost to a Geisha Girl, in which Davis takes on the persona of the man’s lover back home, scorning her fickle-hearted husband. As is common in reply songs, lyrics from the original are changed to fit the new perspective:

Locklin sings, Have you ever heard a love song that you didn't understand / when you met her in a teahouse on the island of Japan?

Davis sings: Why a love song with no meaning makes you happy, I don't know / I've lost you to a geisha girl where the ocean breezes blow.

A song you don't understand.  A song with no meaning. A song in a language you don't speak. What's the difference, anyway?

In post-war Japan, a whole plethora of country music bands sprung up around the country, playing American hits for homesick soldiers: Tennessee Waltz, Lovesick Blues, Your Cheatin’ Heart.. The closer they were to the originals, the better. They'd bill themselves as the Japanese Hank Williams or John Denver or Patsy Cline. The catch? Some of these singers barely spoke English. painstakingly memorising each lyric until their L's and R's sounded just right. Yet, every Friday night they'd get up on that stage and sing songs they didn't understand about a country they'd never been to. 

Just a few years ago, America had been Japan's worst enemy. But here their sons and daughters were, singing American songs, working in American jobs, marrying American men. In the present day, you could almost argue that the tables’ve turned: middle-schoolers debate anime at the cafeteria table; red-blooded blue-collar workers drive Toyotas and ride Kawasakis.

One thing that's stayed the same, though– American boys, Japanese girls. Love songs in a foreign language. Kind of a funny thing.

–

For hundreds of years, the West has been fascinated by the geisha. In Puccini’s 1904 opera Madama Butterfly, fifteen-year-old Butterfly is making her living as one when she’s bought by an American soldier named Pinkerton. He marries her, knocks her up, then ditches her in Japan while he marries an American woman. The whole time, Butterfly’s left to pine for him, and when Pinkerton returns to Japan with his wife, Butterfly stabs herself so that her son will be able to live in America with his father. 

(Pinkerton, as you can probably tell, is kind of an ass.)

I keep thinking about Butterfly in that lonely, empty house in Japan, waiting for someone who didn’t love her back. I keep thinking about Alex: Alex and his horrible stupid round glasses and his old embarrassing love of Panic! at the Disco and his stupid cringe emojis, Alex who’s still the smartest person I know, Alex who was the first guy to ever pay attention to me. When I’m sixteen, I think about him almost constantly, a constant hum of obsession in the back of my head. I know I’m in love with him because that’s how all the songs go: Randy Travis declares that it’s deeper than the holler / stronger than the river; Deana Carter says it’s bittersweet / green on the vine; Keith Whitley confesses that it’s what I hear when you don’t say a thing.

Alex asks me, so what do you like about country music? And I don't know what to say to him, so I say nothing at all.

–

They read it in the tea leaves and it's written in the sand

I found love by the heart-full in a foreign distant land

–

Alex likes Johnny Cash, Waylon Jennings, the outlaws and the jailhouses and the pistols at the hip.  My classmates like the feminist murder ballads, where they think she did it but they just can't prove it, where afterwards the girls sell Tennessee ham and strawberry jam / and they don't lose any sleep at night. I personally have a fondness for the silly and unserious: Alan Jackson extolling the virtues of grape snow cones, George Strait selling me the Golden Gate.

In the end, though, what I end up listening to most are the old songs– the really old ones, all the way back to the dawn of recording, the Golden Age of the radio.  These songs, collected in the 1920s and 30s, are impressively varied in lyrical content: you’ve got the ones that are basically a soap opera stuffed into three minutes flat (Lorena, My Heart’s Tonight In Texas); the religious ones (Anchored in Love, Will the Circle Be Unbroken); the relatable ones (Give Me Your Love); the unrelatable ones (The Dying Soldier, No Depression In Heaven). What I like about them, I guess, is the familiar hiss of the vinyl, the way the lyrics are both specific and universal at once, their ability to make a time and a place that you’ve never been to before feel, inexplicably, like home.

Alex and I aren't anywhere near poor– his parents are both surgeons, and I spend my evenings trying not to fall asleep in increasingly expensive private lessons. But then again, neither were the Japanese country singers of the fifties and sixties, mainly college kids from elite families who could afford custom-made cowboy hats and genuine guitars. Hell, even the prince of Japan was said to be a country music fan in his youth. None of us have worked in the fields or in the mines, none of our parents have had to tell us here's your one chance, Fancy, don't let me down. We're the people Garth was referring to when he sang about that black-tie affair, those social graces, the ivory tower.

What does it mean to understand a song? How do you sing something and really, truly mean it?

–

When I'm sixteen, my fun fact on the first day of school is that I listen to country music. When I go out with my friends, I wear ankle-length denim skirts and lacy blouses and tie my hair in twin ponytails. I beg and beg them to listen to Loretta, to Dolly, to Patsy. In response, they buy me a Cowboy of the Month calendar and save me in their phones as "the horse girl".  In one inexplicable picture that we've since lost, I've got my face in my hands, trying to hide my laughter, as my friends gleefully blast a Fox News clip about Randy Travis' drunken escapades.

So maybe my taste in music is the most interesting thing about me. What else is there? I'm not very pretty, only sometimes funny, and, to my eternal embarrassment, not good at all at being Asian. If I was smarter– fine, if I was Alex, Alex with his books and essays and critical theory– I might say that I do everything I do because I don't want to be the whitest girl in a room full of Asians (lame, boring, suck-up) but the most interesting thing in a room full of white people (exotic, rare, unique). A geisha girl, dressed in Oriental style. 

Even so, I don't like to think that that's all there is to it. You can shrink the world down to words on a page, map out the complicated intersections of nations and culture and war that make up the popular imagination of America, call it pentatonic scales, the mixolydian mode. Of course there's value in that, I know– but all that stuff's a foreign language to me. You can try to explain why music sounds the way it does, but in the end you just have to hear it for yourself.

–

For a genre obsessed with authenticity, modern country music's chock-full of performers: Toby Keith singing We'll put a boot in your ass, it's the American way, Hardy singing My small town is smaller than yours, Jason Aldean singing, I sit back and think about them good ol' days / The way we were raised and our southern ways.

A geisha's a performer, too, in a way. She trains her whole life to sing, to dance, to entertain. In yet another adaptation of Madama Butterfly, David Henry Hwang's play M. Butterfly, a Communist actor seduces a French man by pretending to be a woman for years. When the actor's finally caught, he's asked how he got away with it. He responds: Because when he finally met his fantasy woman, he wanted more than anything to believe that she was, in fact, a woman.

Don't tell this to anyone else, but when I curl my hair and put on lip-gloss and toddle around in heels, wondering if Alex would like what he sees, I feel like I'm a walking caricature in the shape of a girl. When I’m online with him I simper, I preen, I ask stupid questions just to keep him talking to me– and he likes it, or at least I really hope he does. Sometimes, in the middle of the night, I wonder what'll happen if I stop performing. I wonder if there’s anything left of me below the performance.

I used to worry that I fell in love with something that doesn't exist: the myth of America, the barbeques and the cornfields and the porches, the honky-tonk and the church social and the choir all singing, the cowboys on their vast, empty ranches. A place that's already gone, or else never existed at all– but what does that matter? An unreal place for an unreal girl. If everyone's performing, then no one is.

–

How much of this is true, then?

It's true as backroads and cold beer and pickup trucks. True as private jets and cowboy hats and exaggerated drawls. True as Nashville and Wallen and the CMAs. Which is to say, it's as true a story as you want it to be.

–

Tell the home folks that I'm happy, with someone that's true I know

I love a pretty geisha girl where the ocean breezes blow

–

In the months around my eighteenth birthday, my parents start screaming at each other. Suffice to say, they never really stop. I take up temporary residence in the school library instead, and spend my afternoons staring at maths textbooks while regretting every decision I’ve ever made. My exams are drawing closer. I’m sure I’ll fail them. It doesn’t feel real. Nothing does. I can’t bring myself to look at my future, I can’t, and yet like the long black train / coming down the line I know what’s going to happen when it hits me, and I know, I know– it’s not gonna be good. I start learning how to fall asleep to the background noise of things getting thrown. When my friends come over to study, they call the house beautiful. I guess it is.

On the way back from school, pressed into a corner of a sardine-packed bus, I put one earphone in and watch the sunset fall over the expressway, the heat turning the sky a gorgeous, deadly pink. Loretta Lynn sings: Well, I look out the window and what do I see? / The breeze is a-blowing the leaves from the trees / Everything is free, everything but me. The Chicks sing: She needs wide open spaces / Room to make her big mistakes. John Prine sings: Make me an angel that flies from Montgomery / make me a poster of an old rodeo / Just give me one thing that I can hold on to / To believe in this livin' is just a hard way to go.

Meanwhile, in my headphones, a thousand different stories unfold, familiar missives from some far-off place:  a son buries his parents. A wife kills her husband. Two childhood friends fall in love. A girl convinces her father to let her marry her boyfriend. A woman pins a runaway to a motel wall. Somebody calls his ex, even though he shouldn’t. A mother sells her daughter to an older man. A traveller gets on a train. The unfamiliar place names rush past. Amarillo, Charleston, Jackson, Cheyenne, Chattahoochee: evidence of an existence outside of calculus and grammar and pushing my desk against my door to block it. In my head I picture as if through a window some wide, sprawling prairie, some open starry sky, and think of Mary Oliver – so this is the world. I’m not in it. It’s beautiful.

–

(Meanwhile, online: it’s a different story.)

–

If it was a breakup, would it have been better? There's no shortage of breakup songs in country music, after all. Like, What right does she have to take you away / when for so long, you were mine? Like, I'm crazy for loving you / Crazy for thinking that my love could hold you Like, Nothing much for us to say / One last goodbye and you drove away.

Instead, it’s the stupidest, most mundane of reasons: we just stop talking. I couldn’t tell you exactly why. For me, I’m wrapped up in exams, family stuff, a clown car full of childhood friends crashing their way back into my life without warning; for him, he’s busy at Harvard, busy with his new friends and new projects and new– 

Okay. Fine. His new girlfriend.

I can’t blame him. I don’t have any right to. I still don’t know whether I actually loved him or I was just sixteen, lonely and looking to write myself into a song. Still, after I learn that he’s dating her, I fall into a haze of social-media stalking: I scroll through their Instagrams, their Twitters, anything that’ll tell me more about who he was, who they are. She’s cute, I’ll give her that, and they’re cute together, the kind of forever and ever, amen couple whose profiles are full of heart-shaped chocolates, of candid kisses and in-jokes I’ll never get to hear.

(A love song with no meaning. A language you don't speak.)

For weeks and weeks on end I dream of him, but the really funny thing is that even in these dreams he’s nothing but a spectre: texting me, calling me, writing long-winded letters in the mail.  The closest I ever get is this dream where I’m walking through his hometown, the one I looked up in Google Earth in a fit of desperation. It’s just like I thought it would be, every house gorgeous and stately and ancient, the trees barren but still grand. My hometown’s always been warm. It’s the one thing I have in common with the people in the songs, that overwhelmingly oppressive heat, the kind that sucks all the energy out of your bones. Even though Alex lives at the edge of America, Stephen King and sweaters country, in the dream it’s not cold at all– Georgia hot, hometown hot. As I run from house to house, ringing every doorbell, the roads seem to stretch out beneath my feet until the next door seems oceans and continents away. Nobody’s home. Nobody’s there. In the dream, I’m not surprised.

Sometimes I worry that everything I love is already gone, but I guess I knew that already. That doesn’t mean I didn’t love it. 

–

When I'm eighteen, my parents spend a small fortune on a family holiday to America, some last-ditch effort at holding the household together. I miss most of it, however, because the moment I step off the plane I come down with the worst cold I've ever had in my life. Thankfully, during the last couple of days I begin to feel a little bit more like a human being and not just a collection of symptoms, so I manage to go down with my family to the shore.

Maybe it's the ghost of the fever coming back to haunt me, or maybe it's just December, but the beach is bitingly cold, the evening light only just poking through the clouds. Standing there, I find myself thinking– predictably– of Alex. We haven't talked in months, at this point: the last thing I texted him was im in the us lol to which he responded Haha enjoy, and that's about it.

On some other shore, so far away we might still be in different countries, Alex is at Harvard writing essays about America– learning how to understand it, how to shape it, how to make it somewhere he can love without reservation. But I'm not him. I know, now, that I know nothing at all about America: not the blue and far-off one in my songs. but the real place, full of contradictions, land of guns and welfare and Walmart and the Free.

I keep going back to what Alex asked me when I was fifteen, when we barely knew each other: so why do you like country music? And it's only here, now, freezing in a down jacket on the California coast, that I finally have an answer for him.

I think: because every good country song is a love song in its own way.

I think: because country music is the only thing I've ever known how to love.

I think: I have stood and watched the sun rise from the waters of the sea / and I've wondered how much beauty in this cruel world can there be / My dreams are all worth dreaming and it makes my life worthwhile / to see my pretty geisha girl dressed in oriental style.

I think: does there really need to be a reason, A?

From somewhere behind me, I hear someone call my name. I turn. It's my mother yelling: “Come back to the car! It's getting cold!”

“Coming!” I yell back, and run to her.

–

Before I have to go back home, I manage to get my hands on a Shania Twain t-shirt, which honestly makes the entire trip worth it.

[khaleesiofalicante]

Now these are all random thoughts with no order, but I still need to get them out of my system (and my notes lol)

David's thoughts not appearing and him not having a POV makes me so fucking nervous, because the last time it happened it turned out to be the saddest shit ever 😭

WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN ARCAID ARE NOT A CANON EVENT???? AND THEY AREN'T TOGETHER IN IALS??? My mind refuses to accept that😤. Also the fact that Arthur said “We’re destined to be together, Kincaid.”, and they are the couple that is not canon is my 13th reason 🙂

The song rec in Lance's chapter being She by Dodie??? Haven't recovered yet, thanks :)

I remember Arthur saying in IALS that "You were bigger than the whole sky" was his favorite song from the midnights album and now I'm feeling Arcaid feels not in a good way😭😭

Everyone in this gen is a whore and I say good for them!! Theia literally using her travel year to go see Lance, Joan thirsting over Régine, Iris and Hermes, Arthur and Kincaid (both self explanatory), and don't get me started on Cami! I am proud of them😌

I'm still curious about what happened to David's book. I mean, I know it wasn't published, and Max was angry at Rafael about it, but what bullshit excuse did they used???

Rafael and Max's relationship 🥺🥺. Rafael being scared for Max, and Max wanting to protect his family and everything just going to shit because of the Clave... They better fix this relationship or I'm throwing hands!

You should listen to "Fuiste tú" by Ricardo Arjona and "El triste" by José José. They give me IALS vibes. Funny thing is that those two are really famous in my country, and I've heard them a thousand times, but just recently I paid attention and I am heartbroken 🥰

I have a theory Max won't become Other Max after seeing all the damage it created. Like, seeing the consequences, and telling David he can't do it but feeling bad about it. Still not sure because that whore is capable of anything

And I have ANOTHER theory that David will die soon. Like, in a battle or in between the fight with Idris and that's why Max invented time travel. Because he never got to grow old (?) with him. But maybe that would also mean Lance activating the prophecy for him... Besides, Other Max said he took 720 years to figure it out, but he didn't said what year he is from... Idk, maybe it could be because you didn't want to do math but I don't trust you anymore😑

I love Rafael, Anjali and Cami but omfg they NEED TO CHIILL!!! I feel they would judge me so hard LMAO. I am that girl who's motto is "if tomorrow isn't the due date, today isn't the do date". And I procrastinate so much but the worst part is I know I can pull it off because I have done entire projects 20 minutes before they're due and I've gotten 10s, and studying for exams with time?? Nah, I like to study with someone's study cards 10 minutes before the exam AND I also pull that off so yeah... I love Cami but she would probably dislike me 😂

Every time I remember Other Max waited 720 years to see David again, I remember this scene of IALS and feel 80% worse 🥲 “Alec hasn’t spoken to me for two days and I already feel like I’m decaying,” bapak told him. “Decaying?” Max made a face. “Like a corpse?” The man clutched his face. “13 years, Max. 13 bloody years. How on earth did you manage that?”

I would sell a kidney to know why tf Other Max does the shit he does sigh

I'm really curious about the changes from Other Max's timeline and this because of the White Warlock thing Max has going on. Like, we've cleared that the money did have an impact on it, so not only does it affect keeping the institute, I guess it would affect Lance and AJ going to different schools, maybe Arthur not meeting Harry?

Arcaid are together (briefly) in IALS but they don't end up together rip.

She by Dodie is funnily enough a song that perfectly fits Lance and Kincaid - more reasons why they are alike!!!

We'll find out about David's book soon (I think).

Thank you thank you for your song recs. I love them. I haven't been the same since you recced me Tú sí sabes quererme. It's one of my fave songs ever - and so very blackbane too.

And yes, everything is literally because I don't wanna do math. DO NOT MAKE ME.

I guess we'll find out what Other Max does and why he does it when he return to the Other Timeline during the interlude.

And yes, it does affect the schools they go to. For instance, Arthur and Harry meet in a public school instead of Silverstone. You actually get a lil context about this in the next chapter :)

[blueguydraws]

Russia, Israel and sharks

During history classes i think we all were thinking just how could have people been so cruel and dumb back in the day, salting the land, burning towns on the enemies land, targetting people based on the association of ethnicity. And everyone in the classroom was relieved how lucky it is that we are not that backwards anymore in the civilised world and age. We were also shocked how could everyone have gone mad and how the world turned upisde down during the 40 all over europe and asia. It must have been the genious manipulation of propaganda.

But no, we have to admit sadly that they didnt had to do much if anything, most people simply are just like that, they barely need a push to sucumb to that way of thinking, it doesnt take years of propaganda, but about 5 minutes of news.

A few months ago a man in egypt was eaten by a shark, the video is quiet disturbing, but then it came out that he was russian, living in egypt for about 4 years. And twitter immediately become full with such tweets:

And hundreds of extremely distastefull and sadistic comments celebrating this. If someone questioned them, they just wrote how many ukrainian died in the war if they even responded something coherent. When questioned what did he had to do with any of that, the best they could say is that well russians are evil annyway and he propably supported putin too. Its good that there is one less of them.

War footages were also all over social media, i saw a few where they put loony toons sound effects over deaths, of course bright text made it clear that those were russian soldiers (othervise no one could even tell) and you can have the luxury of laughing at it guilt free instead of virtously clutching your pearls. The ones where someone got bombed while taking a piss or sleeping got particularly many likes and retweets.

Acthual unga bunga bronze age mindset.

Collective punishment and gladiator games, things we tought we abandoned centuries ago, but it didnt even took anything for peole to immediately re embrace it with open arms.

At this point we have to admit that the reason for this is that its just simply part of human nature (not that) deep down. Wich makes sense after all. Humans have been existing for about 300 000 years, but we had our current socially acceptable moral system for about a hundred. Playing civilisation for a few centuries arent gonna be enough to weed out the instinctual cavemen out of us. Wich reminded me to this song by MARINA, "savages", it hit the nail on the head perfectly:

And while maybe war footage is not being shared here, this kind of behavior is definitely not absent from tumblr either.

By the way, talking about ukrain and russia, what do you even know about them? What is the diference between the two? The average internet activist couldnt have been able to point it out on a map before the war. Arent all the news regarding ukrain were talking about how the far right is on the rise in there? But suddenly it become my little UwU ukrain once the war started. My point is that for the avegare person around the world the only diference between the two nation is that one happened to attack the other not the other way around. If history would have went a bit diferently, now you all were laughing at the death of those same poor ukrainian soldiers.

I saw once a tweet made by a guy who just found out that many ukrainians, especially in the army, are deeply religious, and the country is very conservative, and said that he isnt sure he can fully support them anymore lmao.

It was also very cringe how everyone who didnt even heard about Zelensky before started to simp for a random middle eastern politican and made heroic edits about him for the sole virtue of getting attacked, its embarrassing at best.

Did you knew that he was in the panama papers by the way?

And now again with the conflict between israel, palestine and hamas. People just cant behave civilised.

I dont know what is so hard about simply having multiple opinions at the same time, you can easily agree that Palestine should be freed from Israel's influence while also condemning HAMAS.

Many people have been taking off their masks and it often comes from the most suprising groups.

I couldnt have belived that the time comes when people here will support a far right religious fundamentalist terror group.

"but yoU CAnT TelL tHE oprEsSed How REbeLL" I heard many times by now

Yes i can, for example rape, mowing down civilians and parading their bodies like trophies are simply just not part of any military operation and you shouldnt do it, idk why it is a controverial opinion currently.

Also do you think all the extremist groups in the middle east wouldnt want to kill all the jews annyway even if Israel would have been nice? Or you for that matter since i assume the average person reading this isnt a beliver.

The average liberal person with "they/them, ACAB, UwU" in their bio the second there is an armed conflict:

[hairklipz]

Review 02: Racoon - Till Monkeys Fly

Released: 01/01/00AV

Genre: Rock / Subgenre: Alt. Indie Rock a/o Pop Rock

Till Monkeys Fly is the first LP released from Dutch Rock Band Racoon. This record is a diverse showcase of the very talented Bart van der Weide and an impressive debut. The album has incredible feel-good moments while still keeping room for extremely heartfelt and raw cuts. VDW's vocals are fun and playful but also emotional when needed. He is absolutely the star of this album for me. Let's Listen.

Track One starts with those vocals I was talking about. You immediately hear how talented VDW is and how delicate his vocals can be fine. The song quickly turns into a very classic late 90's rock ballad until cut through with the other side of VDW's vocals. You find he can bring a more aggressive tone to match the song when needed. What better a track to show off his dynamic delivery than a song about how silly the bads and goods of life can be.

Track Two delivers one of my favorite messages off the whole record. 'By Your Side' is the unofficial title track of the album, proclaiming he and whoever will be together, alright and fine until monkeys fly which (as far as we know) will be forever. This track is that exact feel-good type of song I was talking about. The chorus of this song has an pretty but light harmony followed by a catchy melody showing more of those skilled vocals. The second verse starts with one of my favorite lines 'I know that I ain't easy and its difficult to please me but you proved more than alright'. It is just such a cute message along with the rest of this song. By the end of writing this paragraph I did not want to even go on to the next song despite it being probably my 25th listen.

Track Three shifts the tone and displays the other side of VDW's writing. I love when an older track feels like a time-capsule and gives us a look into what people were thinking even half way across the world. The lyrics, had you not known both the time and place they were recorded, feels relevant to a 22 year old American experiencing an overwhelming amount of information by way of the internet. Only to find these lyrics were written about the state of the late 20th Century Dutch Media. Besides the writing, VDW gives his most impressive vocal performance that only can be appreciated with a proper sit-down.

Track Four continues the more melancholy tone but lyrically the song is sort of motivational. It seems to be an important person trying to cheer you on while you are being a stubborn, depressed asshole. In 'Smoothly' we get a taste of some of the orchestral sections and I love it. Cello (maybe bass I don't know) hits the spot for me and this song is no different. My first listen of the album, this song kind of just came and went but when I gave it my second, more intentional listen, it clicked for me. The situation feels relatable and the instrumental is beautiful.

Track Five titled 'Impossible' feels like the aftermath of the last track's discussion. This track is what happens, both sonically and lyrically, when things don't work out the way that you want. VDW knows that being with him is impossible but he can't quite figure out why. Maybe he isn't looking in himself past just the shallow 'I suck' mantra. As far as the sounds of this track, it is the first real rock song and it is clear with VDW's change in delivery from the last song. 'Impossible' isn't my favorite song but perfect for the album. As you start to grasp the story that we are following, every track fits perfectly into its position and gives it purpose.

Track Six was the first single for this record and it brought the band some decent exposure in their home country. I can understand the popularity but I'm not crazy about this one. It is definitely catchy and I love the playful lyrics but it makes me question if I was reading into the first few songs correctly.

Track Seven feels like it is a few riffs, chords and pedals from being a 'Sunny Day Real Estate' song (this may be blasphemous but some parts do...). While listening to this track, I feel like it would be the kind of song that you would hear at a concert live and then go home to be disappointed by the studio version. I honestly have been sitting with this song on repeat trying to decide if I like it or hate it. As of right now I am neutral about it. I don't hate it but I can't see myself coming back to it like the ones before.

Track Eight was one were I was able to make out a lot more comparisons than before. The first one I caught onto was when the lead will sing a line and then kind of repeat it with a bit of attitude or bounce. This reminds me of Jamiroquai funny enough considering their two styles are in completely different realms. Another one comes from the line 'thanks for all you did in the blue days'. The instrumental, harmony and maybe even the lyrics feel like a Pinegrove song so much to me that it is almost uncanny. Besides the comparisons, this track has a lot of what I like in it but just barely hits for me. In 'Blue Days', the strings make their return but make me wish there was a little bit more done with them. As the chorus comes to an end, VDW reasons 'you're an asshole but you're learning'. Right before the word 'learning' the strings walk down but end in this certain note that always annoys me. I do not think that this is a bad thing BUT it is a personal preference. (Please listen to this part of the song to understand what I am talking about because my music theory isn't good enough to describe it). When songs do said 'progression' it always feels overdone which is definitely biased because maybe it wasn't overdone at the time. Other than that stupid bratty opinion, this song is great and deserves a listen. Like I said, it ALMOST hits for me.

Track Nine starts off a few trumpets short of being a ska song. I should clarify that I don't think that is necessarily a bad thing rather a natural influence from the time. As the song progresses, it moves away from that sound and is kind of psychedelic in the guitars. Funny enough I actually enjoy the 'ska' part more than the chorus but overall didn't have many thoughts about this song.

Track Ten didn't catch my attention until the second half of the track. VDW's voice sounds so delicate alongside the harmonics being played. I really enjoyed his choices here. This section is short-lived much like the song as a whole and is followed by the chorus one last time to end the song.

Track Eleven feels like it is picking up back up where we left off several songs ago. At this point in the album, I am not sure if the album has a connected story but this certainly feels like the same place where we were six songs ago. VDW seems to be coming into contact with the person spoken about in the beginning of the album but is feeling indifferent about it. They are feeling nostalgic about the past but also annoyed that he is being reminded of it. He compares this person to a shooting star, one so rare that this second meeting is so unlikely but must mean something. To me, this song is the unofficial sixth track on the album and the songs in between were little breaks.

Track Twelve serves as a stage for Bart van der Weide to be very 'Particular' in his singing choices and lyrics. This song feels like two messages to me. 1. Could be a meeting between this person we have been following through the album. If this were a stage of grief (in this case, the grief of a breakup) it would be acceptance. He is happy with the people he has around to support him and doesn't care where things go from here. 2. Could just be a song about loving the bros (I don't like this idea as much). If it is the former, this track fits nicely into my fake album as track seven.

Track Thirteen has more harmonic comparisons to Pinegrove at several different points which I like. 'Chick Song' is as if VDW made peace with the pain he felt earlier but one more meeting or something has re-opened the wound as he reassures himself that things are this way for a reason. To him, he is who is and it is up to him to deal with it, not someone else. I really enjoyed the guitar in this song both in the quieter verses and in the harder breakdowns later in the track.

Track Fourteen is the first song where VDW really changes up his vocal delivery into a more talking tone. If you didn't know he was some sort of European before, this would be the song where you start to squint your ears and maybe decide to make a google search. In 'Telephone Song', a restless VDW is waiting for a call from 'her'. He is unsure what to expect, he cares but doesn't care, he wants to do something to distract but can't and it all culminates to said person calling and telling him to not worry. The days and days of anxiety was for nothing. He felt confident that he needs nothing from her in the last song only to have this call make or break his whole week.

Track Fifteen is another break from my made-up storyline. Considering I have become so invested in said storyline, the breaks from it have become significantly less exciting than the others despite them still being great songs. Something I do like about this stand-alone song is that it feels like VDW is writing about an experience he is actively living rather than one in retrospect. It is almost like he is in the middle of a bender that he is not really enjoying but it is going along for the ride.

Finally at Track Sixteen we come to the end of the album. Although I would've preferred the album to finish up with 'Telephone Song', 'Whatever Song' brings us to the end and reminds us where he is. He is still recovering, still dealing with the problems he within him and still loves the person he's been writing about.

'Till Monkeys Fly' was an unexpected 'concept album' that had me half-invested in both the sounds and the story itself. Sitting at sixteen songs in total, the album feels as though it could've been cut in half and made more of an impact (in my opinion). An argument could be made that the tracks I counted as 'breaks in the story' were perhaps ways that Van Der Weide was coping with the situation. Even if this is the case, I think the songs that remained true to the story had those most impact and kept me more invested. The diversity in this album is something to be appreciated and it is shown most through the vocal delivery. I am walking away from this album very indifferent as the elements that made my favorite tracks were present in my least favorite but inconsistently. Overall I think this record starts as a cute love letter that slowly burns and makes for an interesting story and a worthwhile listen. Let me know what you think.

6.8/10

-Hairklipz 03/03/24AV

[mattysmind19]

Your Musical Theme

Music is a huge passion of mine. I love how music can take you back to time or place and you associate those feelings or experiences with certain music. I personally love all genres of music and am always open to listening to something I haven’t heard before.

When creating this playlist, I tried to stay in the overall theme of that warm climate place you maybe live in or travel to from time to time. For me it’s my home in Florida this is where I grew up, so I am no stranger to a beach playlist. I tried to compile songs that relate to that overall theme, but I tried to pull from multiple different genres. I chose 6 songs from the rock, hip-hop/rap, country, and electronic genres.

Starting with the rock songs, I have two. First is the song “In the summertime” by Mungo Jerry. This one might be a little obvious why I chose it for my theme of that warm climate destination. But to elaborate this song personally reminds me of that scene in movies when the characters all come together and just enjoy the time at the lake or at a pool and nothing matters, you’re just purely enjoying each other’s company and the summertime. To further paint the picture of summertime the opening lyric of the song is “In the summertime when the weather is high you can stretch right up and touch the sky” this makes me imagine a perfect summer day not a cloud in the sky. The song is also just fun it’s a fun instrumental and the lyrics are so catchy anyone can sing along. The song is also from 1970 a time I was not around for, but I can still appreciate this great tune!

The second rock song I chose is “Island In The Sun” by Weezer. This song came out in 2001 and has a strong guitar presence in the beat but again the lyrics are super catchy! If you put this song on the next time you go to the beach or the pool, I bet anyone close enough to hear it will sing along! The band sings “when you’re on a holiday you can’t find the words to say all the things that come to you, and I want to feel it too on an island in the sun” this snippet is the first verse and then the first line of the second verse. This about sums up most people’s tropical vacation traveling to that warm destination just enjoying being in the sun!

Song number 3 is none other than “Summertime” by Will Smith. If this summer classic isn’t on your beach playlist, I would highly recommend it. It is considered a rap song and yes Will is rapping but it is laid back and the beat is dare I say groovy. This song takes me back to the moments on the beach with loved ones while the sun is setting, and the day is coming to an end. This song to me just perfectly matches that vibe and setting.

Taking us to song number 4 which is “Summertime Magic” by Childish Gambino. Has the theme become clear yet? Like the Will Smith song this is song screams sunsets in the summer at the beach with your friends. The song with grab your attention right from the start with those steel drums that stay in the beat for the duration of the song. The childish Gambino comes in with his vocals again so catchy and groovy. With this song you can’t help but dance. Coming from someone who can barely clap on beat I can’t help but dance to this song I seem to lose control of my shoulders and hips once this song comes on.

For song number 5, I chose “As She’s Walking Away” by Zac Brown Band. This is my country pick for this little playlist. Now country has never been my favorite genre but there are a small group of songs that you’ll find in my library that are considered country. This being one of them I think this is great and fun song that all of us can relate to. The lyrics are about someone falling in love and contemplating what to say and what to do as they pursue the love interest. The summertime is a great time to meet someone or travel with your significant other. My favorite line is “Don’t be fallin’ in love as she’s walking away” this is kind of hard to avoid because sometimes we are paralyzed by love but it’s more important to share your feelings with that special someone.

Taking us to number 6 the final song in the playlist I’m going with “Sun Models” by Odesza. This is an electronic song but there are lyrics, however they are kind of faint throughout the song I personally connect with and appreciate the beat more than anything. This is the song you listen to driving home windows down music turned up loud and the cool wind whipping past you, but you’re kept warm by that suntan you just got from your beach day. It is the perfect song to end a night on!

So, this my playlist, short and sweet with the overall theme of those summertime moments in the sun shared with the ones you love the most.

Please find the links to all of the songs mentioned above below. :)

[jeepinitrealjku]

Your Musical Theme

The theme and unifying idea that I decided to choose for this assignment is “tribute.” I decided to choose this theme because many tribute songs are so much more than a simple tribute when you fully listen to the song and analyze the lyrics. I chose this theme because it is extremely relevant to me. A lot of the songs I like are tribute songs because it allows me to reminisce on two very important people - my grandparents - who I lost many years ago.

“Difficult” by Eminem - Rap

“Difficult” is a rap song that is dedicated to a best friend of Eminem - Proof - who passed away in 2006. “Difficult” is a song with a very low, slowed down tempo, allowing for the melody of the song to seem very dull and sad, but at the same time having some higher notes to allow for an opposite perspective. The consonance in this song is very well put together, allowing for the use of the different notes to make the listener feel a certain way, allowing for the proper absorption of the lyrical meaning. This song is very real and raw, allowing it to seem as if Eminem is speaking directly to whoever he is speaking to. It contributes well to the message of “tribute” especially well because it feels so real and raw. It is very clear after listening to the song and reading the lyrics that Eminem put all of his feelings and thoughts about his best friend into this song, making it feel very personal to not only himself but every listener.

“Headlights” by Eminem ft. Nate Ruess - Rap

This song illustrates beautifully the way that people grow to recognize that some things are out of one’s control. This is a tribute to Eminem’s mother as a way of saying thank you for being both his mother and his father. Like many of Eminem’s songs, it has a very slow and calm tempo, but the melody is more upbeat and continues this path further into the song. Having a very good consonance, the use of the high notes allows for some happy moments or, in Eminem’s case, a moment of realization. The lyrics “I guess we are who we are” repeat throughout the song, showing that he has realized that it is not his mother’s fault for how she was, but it was due to a variety of outside factors. This song has pain and love all in one, allowing for a true tribute and a thank you to his mother for doing all that she did for him, even if he could not realize these things until later in life. 

“Give Heaven Some Hell” by HARDY - Country

A song that is a tribute that anyone can use for a friend who was gone too soon, this song hits close to the heart. Its tempo starts off very slow and low and progresses through the song into a more upbeat, higher pitch that continues throughout as HARDY reminisces and remembers his dear friend. This song also fits well into the category of consonance. The music, notes, and lyrics fit together all too well, allowing for the melody to just flow smoothly. This song carries a very consistent structure, allowing for new verses to fit in all while allowing for the use of all that he hopes his friend will do up above to repeat multiple times. This is such a great tribute song for many, many people and gives out amazing emotional content, allowing everyone who relates to this song to think of all the good things they wish their lost friend is doing up above. As HARDY himself wrote under this song, “Give Heaven Some Hell is one of my favorite songs I have ever written & having my buddies in the music video meant a whole lot. If you’ve ever lost a friend or someone you love, I hope this helps you & gives ya hope.”

“You Should Be Here” by Cole Swindell - Country

An emotional song that is a tribute to Cole Swindell’s dad, who unexpectedly passed away in 2013 while he was on a radio tour. A truly memorable song with a heartfelt, smooth, and consistent tempo equal with that of the melody, this song will always be a favorite tribute song of mine. This song has good consonance, every lyric and note flowing perfectly together, and creating a heartfelt message. When thinking of the theme for this assignment, this was the first song to come to mind when I chose it. This is a song that my family holds close because it reminds us all of my grandfather who passed when I was eight years old. It is difficult to watch the music video and sometimes even listen to the song without tearing up because it hits so close to home. Due to this, I believe that this song carries heaps of emotional content and clearly passes along the message of loving a lost one very, very clearly.

“Angel” by Sarah McLachlan - Folk

“Angel” is tributed to Jonathan Melvoin, who died of a heroin overdose in 1996 while touring as the Smashing Pumpkins’ keyboardist, but could be a tribute song for just about anyone. McLachlan’s use of the piano throughout this song allows for a consistent tone and melody all throughout, allowing for the pitch to sound beautifully consistent and “flowy” through the song. While the song uses consonance, it also uses dissonance with McLachlan’s pitch in her voice going high/low as the piano notes do the opposite. Although I have never been a fan of this genre of music, this folk styled song communicates its message very well. Even though today the song lyrics have become a TikTok joke, it evokes its emotional content well simply by the pitch of McLachlan’s voice and how she uses the delicate, yet higher notes.

“Whale Song” by Carina Nour & Gibs - Electronic

The beginning of this song is almost surreal. The combination of the melody and tempo almost simulates what it feels like and sounds like to be under water in the ocean. Using a combination of low and high notes as well as an “echoy” effect simulates this perfectly. It is very calming, picking up further into the song, and almost feels surreal - like a fever dream. It is a song that I could feel myself get lost in and it perfectly depicts exactly how an ocean sounds and feels if it were to be put into a song. Although there are no lyrics, I feel as though this song clarifies what it is meant to well - a tribute to the ocean and the tides. It felt as though I was surrounded by the ocean and was listening to the noises perfectly! Even without lyrics, this song has a very great meaning behind it and I believe that even without knowing the meaning prior to listening, connecting the sounds will allow you to picture an ocean setting.

Word count: 1202

[fried-berries]

this is going to be a long post

as I mentioned, youtube did that thing where it offers to translate it into the language your device is in, but I don't quite agree with it so I translated it myself for my friend and music enjoyer @ratwalks:

another day I'm wondering if I'm making any progress the noise with which I struggle now slowly harmonizes should I see another day when I don't see the sprouts of my hope, that won't die? still, around people I'm amazed and confused¹ what am I supposed to do? in my brain there's smoke around company pure confusion I regurgitate² a few words but nothing sounds smooth or like the voices I hear peace interrupted, the train is passing³ that every day stunts⁴ me completely cuz I know that everyone hears it it's a small town, one hundred not-strangers⁵ so many days and so many people and I still don't recognize their temperaments secret codes - frequencies that my ears barely hear⁶ a palette of tones of which I've never heard⁷ how to use it or recognize it but with the darkness in front of my eyes I still brave trying to exist in their eyes so many attempts to understand to communicate myself; the day that I can I feel finally a little warmth on top of the skin that barely feels you so I live still for that day of which I speak to turn it into an everyday thing because maybe a little rhythm with all that hum will cut through the mismatch�� and clear my⁹ mind

¹ the machine translation (MT from here on out) renders this as "I wonder about people", which is technically true, but I think this conveys the sense better. the verb "čuditi se" means both to be amazed and confused, and since this won't fit the metre anyways I elected to put both meanings in there

² MT renders this as "throw up", but "ispovratiti" can also be understood as "to regurgitate", in the sense of regurgitating information you're force-fed at school especially and I wanted to keep that double meaning

³ "proš'o voz" (in this instance used in the present tense, "prolazi voz") is equivalent to "that ship has sailed"

⁴ MT has "distracts" here, but "ometati", to me, means something more than that. I would have put "bothers me", but that has a different connotation in English, and I'm struggling to explain the difference. to me, "ometati" has none of the internal-oriented connotations that "to bother" does

⁵ this may be because I have not lived in Serbia in a decade, but to me "acquaintance" doesn't translate "poznanik" quite right, especially in the context of a small town. in a small town, you're not just acquainted, everyone knows your parents and your siblings and your grandparents and how your great uncle died and about the feud you have with your neighbors over their fence choices and so on and so forth - at least the small towns my parents grew up

⁶ MT renders "these ears of mine can barely hear" but I elected not to use that, on account of the fact that Serbian's near-complete free word order means that the original sentence doesn't scan nearly as unusually as the MT does in English

⁷ MT's "I don't know about" is a perfectly acceptable way to translate this line, but it carries a double meaning that I don't discern as being present in the original so I altered it to be a bit harder to read as also meaning something like "I'm not sure about"

⁸ MT renders "discord" but to me that felt a little stronger, while in my experience "nesklad" can mean simply that something doesn't fit or doesn't agree

⁹ MT rendered this as "THE mind" (emphasis mine) but I think in context this refers to the speaker's mind specifically, and I think that is a distinction worth preserving, as it's more personal phrasing than what the MT has

-

I've translated a few other Serbian songs into English for my friends, but I've never really put them out into the world before. I also haven't lived in Serbia or a majority BCMS speaking country in over ten years, so if I mistranslated something or if you have OpinionsTM, please tell me!! just be nicey maybe?

but yeah I wanted to translate this song because I really liked it and I thought that was happening on the meta level was So Cool. using a vocaloid that's made to sing Japanese to make a song in Serbian is probably pretty hard, and the end result makes it really sound like she's struggling to communicate. I was glad for the lyrics in your comment and in the video, or I wouldn't have been able to follow along at some points with my auditory processing disorder, but I think the end result makes it all the sweeter? because I can still understand it, which speaks to the wonderful adaptivity of the human brain and the fact that having an accent doesn't mean you shouldn't use the language

as someone for who English is a second language, and who's autistic, the struggle with communication really hit me. awesome song op 👍

【hacune miku】 dan 【srpska vokaloid pesma】

[randofics]

Night Drive

TFP Optimus prime x southern reader

I was listening to some romantic country songs and thought this one up. It starts off slow. Optimus needs some love so let's give it to him. Soft dom Optimus but who am I kidding there's no way he wouldn't be a dom.

18+ Under the cut

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

Optimus was many things but you were sure he didn't have a sexual (bone) in him. He never did or said anything towards anyone that was even accidentally sexual. But he was most definitely attractive at least to you. His voice was so deep and it sent shivers down your spine when he spoke to you. You knew however that you couldn't make a move on him. He's centuries older and not even the same species let alone size.

You were on your phone sitting on the couch when his voice caught your attention. He stood next to Rachet at the computer asking him something. With your earbuds in it was hard to tell what he was saying. He noticed you looking at him and gave you a smile continuing his chat with Rachet. You looked back to your phone and an idea came to your mind. You swapped to your camera and took a picture of him as he leaned forward hands on the edge of the table holding the computers.

You made it your home screen pic knowing that you barely used your phone when you were out in public. Let alone not have any apps open so it wasn't covered. You chuckled when you looked the photo over again. You were startled by Optimus's voice as he called to you. He had turned around and was looking at you. You took out your earbuds so you could hear him properly. " Come with me y/n." You stood and without question jogged down the steps to the concrete floor. He transformed into his alt mode and popped his driver side door open for you.

"Where we headed Op?" You buckled your seatbelt and placed your hands on his steering wheel. "You'll see." He drove out through the bases tunnel and into the cool desert night. "You mind if I put on some music?" He chuckled. "Go ahead." His radio came on and you twisted the dial to a country music station. He mentioned once that he rather liked country music, and you thought it fit his personality perfectly. As he continued to drive you looked out the window watching the desert go by in a blur.

He slowed and turned down a dirt road. You were far from town and there wasn't an artificial light in sight, only the stars and his headlights. Your heartrate quickened as you thought about what he was planning. You were sure he wouldn't do anything nefarious but it still made you a bit nervous. He drove up a hill and parked giving you a view of the Nevada desert. Large rock pillars were scattered about below, and the stars shown spectacularly. "I come here occasionally to think or clear my processor." "So why did you bring me here?" "Well it's also rather beautiful like you." You blushed at his compliment.

He did not just compliment you! You couldn't believe it, he had never even shown signs that he liked you more than as a friend. "Th- thank you Optimus." You didn't know what else to say and neither did he apparently as he didn't say anything either. You looked at the stars through his windshield, leaning back against his seat. (Sugarland- want to) started to play on the radio making the awkward atmosphere turn comfortable again. You relaxed as the calming music played. Suddenly a shooting star flew across the sky and you wished this moment wouldn't end anytime soon. As you looked at the stars you tried to find constellations. You eventually found Ursa major but couldn't find anything else. The song soon ended but it was quickly followed by (Luke Bryan- Drunk on you). The lyrics made you blush and your heart beat faster again.

Optimus had noticed the change in atmosphere as well as the lyrics. As he pictured what the man was singing about he couldn't help but think how similar his description of the woman was to you. You were wearing cowboy boots and well used bell bottom jeans with a tight t-shirt. The song slowd a bit as the man sang some of the last lyrics.

So let's slip on out where it's a little bit darker

And when it gets a little bit hotter

We'll take it off on out in the water

Those lyrics left him thinking about you in the water of a pond at night, your clothes hanging on the branch of a tree. How he would love to hold you and kiss you as you swam in the cool water.

He turned on his holoform which fizzled as it became visible. It startled you at first but when you realized it was just his holoform you relaxed again. You had seen it a couple of times and you couldn't help but think it was just as attractive as the real thing. "Hey." "Hello." He smiled at you. This was so awkward! Yet you also wished you were in his lap right now. You noticed the shirt his holoform had on was a plaid button up with a white shirt underneath. He usually had a generals uniform on but you guessed this holoform was for civilian work. (Lee Brice- Rumor) came on next and you turned the volume down a bit. You decided to try something.

You leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek. "What was that for?" He looked perplexed. "Cause your always so sweet and for that compliment earlier." "Perhaps I should compliment you more often then." You blushed madly as he gave you a small grin. He most definitely just flirted with you. "Why don't you come over here so I can compliment other parts of you." You were as red as a tomato now. "Um o-ok." You climbed over the center console and into his lap. His hands landed on your hips. "How about we follow what this man is singing about? Let's give the others something to talk about." You squeaked at that making him chuckle. "Would you like that?" You nodded in response and his hand cups your cheek, bringing you closer. Your lips connect and you moan into him. Your hands go up to his hair to pull on the black and grey locks.

He deepens the kiss sliding his tongue into your mouth. He pulls your hips flush to his and places a hand on the small of your back. When you break away from him for air he takes the chance to attack your neck. When he finds your sweet spot you mewl and tug his hair harder. "Op-Optimus!"

"Mmm." That sound sends shivers down your spine. He licks your throat making you thrust your hips into him. He grunts at your movement. He grabs your rear with both hands and thrusts into your clothed core making you arch your back. He kisses you again as he ruts into you. Your nails scratching his back. You cry out at a particularly well placed thrust. His hands roam over your back and sides as he thrusts into you harder he lifts your shirt over your head suddenly and then starts to kiss your chest. Your coil tightens as his thrusts get rougher.

"Come on baby let go." He growls in your ear making your coil tighten even further. You're almost there. He let's out a possessive growl that makes your coil finally snap. Your thighs tighten on his hips and your body goes rigid as you release. You cry out his name and that tips him over the edge. He uses both hands to push your hips into him as much as possible. He grunts and growls in your ear as he releases. You relax in his arms and try to steady your breath. Your hand goes to his cheek making him look at you. You kiss him sweetly and feel him relax under you. Pulling away you press your forehead against his. "I suppose I should take you home so you can rest." You sigh then yawn confirming that you are tired. "Can we stay like this for a bit?" He chuckles. "Of course darling."

[asherlockstudy]

How to do perfect staging: a lesson from Italy

I mentioned at some point I might actually make a post drooling over Italy's Måneskin performance and staging. I was kinda bored to be honest and decided against it but then all those trashy rumours that try to bring the winners down seemed so disgraceful and embarrassing to me that I decided again to do it. Now, the truth is that their performance was a little better in the semi-final introduction act. Perhaps this was due to the anxiety of the Grand Final. This is why I am going to use photos and gifs from that act and perhaps this will show to some that the perfect package might need a little bit of everything, and not just slap your language on the audience's ears with the expectation that this alone is always enough. *Did I make this too personal?*

Anyway, I digress. And I don’t mean that the Grand Final performance wasn’t still the best of the night, I just mean it wasn’t at the same God Tier level as the semifinal one.

Here's why the Italians took advantage of the Dutch stage until its very last millimeter and way more cleverly than any other country.

This is the only act that starts from the back of the stage, where the singer Damiano David waits for us alone.

Even with the rest of the 25 competing countries, this intro makes you forget that you are watching a contest with 26 countries as guests. Unlike anyone else, Italy looks like the host, like this place belongs to them and the frontman waits for you to show you around and possibly drag you to the world of Måneskin. In fact, you almost forget it’s Eurovision - this now looks like a Måneskin concert or, even better, a more private space of theirs with an ominous industrial feel. One of the most impactful things now is the lighting. Take a look at it. Almost all contestants throw all the lights on themselves or on some important prop they have prepared. The Italians are the only ones who chose to just light the stage itself. The simple white lights on the black stage give the impression of depth and it is the only act which shows emphatically the size of the stage. Why this? Well, we already established that in the first seconds the viewers feel they are in a new space belonging exclusively to Måneskin - the lights make us feel that their area is vast and dark and we are about to be drawn to its depths.

Damiano indeed guides us to the front as he sings, where the rest of the band are on the top of a platform. The other members won’t come down and join Damiano until he sings the appropriate verse “Buona sera, signore e signori” (=Good evening, ladies and gentlemen) and accompany it with a theatrical flamboyant bow (that feels very Italian). That’s when, technically introduced to the audience after the official greeting, bassist Victoria de Angelis and guitarist Thomas Raggi come off the platform and join Damiano.

There’s nothing excessive about the visual effects. Only the use of white lights that give the perception of depth and in the background the big shadows of the group’s silhouettes. They are in the front and they cast their shadows in the back; they create to you a feeling of being trapped by them but do you really want to escape?

When the second verse starts, Victoria and Thomas take the paths left and right of the stage and leave Damiano alone. They take even more advantage of the stage and in a typical classic rock band way. These two play with the side cameras but the focus is more on Damiano, whose verse sounds more like a tongue-twister. Since the cameras are rightfully on Damiano, I must now address the elephant in the room. Damiano is particularly attractive. In fact, the whole band is almost mind-bogglingly attractive and they clearly take a lot of care about how exactly they are going to look but Damiano, as the frontman, does especially so. So let’s talk about the outfit. They all have essentially the same outfit, however it is cut differently for each based on the person’s looks and personality. Isn’t it fantastic?

Damiano, who oozes confidence and sex appeal, has accordingly the most “provocative” outfit of the four. His chest and arms are bare so that his many tattoos can be seen. I’ll talk about the other outfits later as they all have their place in the... uh... white lights.

During the second chorus Victoria and Thomas return at the center and after the chorus it is time for the first solo; Victoria’s. The cameras are now on her but the lighting remains modest to accentuate the dark beat of her bass.

Victoria is the only girl of the group and the most dressed of them all - how refreshing! Her outfit is more similar to Thomas but she is buttoned up in the front. How does she wish to underscore her uniqueness as the woman of the band? But of course, with long flamboyant girly sleeves that come to delicious contrast with her aggressive stomping and her wide strides. Both her hairstyle and her outfit is inspired or basically just outright 70′s classic rock look.

It’s time for the bridge of the song right after her solo and Damiano has his attention on her and also draws the viewer’s attention to her some more. This part of the song is lower and softer - in relative terms - that’s why Damiano “chooses” her to sing it to. The lights now turn red, the intensity rises but there’s light flirtatiousness between them, with many smiles to each other and the camera that turns around them as they launch at each other playfully.

Then the song gets darker, more intense, the guitar stronger than the bass and Damiano’s voice turns to a scream. For this part, he turns to his bro, guitarist Thomas and he now draws the attention to him.

He grabs Thomas by the neck in an intense, intimate way (that doesn’t mean sexual, just intimate. His interaction with Victoria wasn’t sexual either). It is clear that through different ways Måneskin want to stress how good and close their relations are and that their singer, who is apparently a show stealer by birth, wants to ensure that they all get equal amount of attention from their audience. I love this.

True enough, nobody is left behind! The last chorus starts with a drums solo and Damiano goes up to the platform to now meet and introduce to us Ethan Torchio. Ethan stands up and his giant shadow is on the now blue background: this is the moment for the - so I hear - somewhat shy drummer to shine in his own aesthetic. The Italians leave none of their assets to fall down and Ethan’s impressive hair rightfully steals the show.

Just like Victoria and Thomas look alike, so do Ethan and Damiano, that’s why their costumes are the most similar. Ethan has a vest that covers him more than Damiano but leaves his arms bare. Because whose else the arms do you need to see if not the drummer’s?

This song has something peculiar because it was not a song originally written for Eurovision; it slows down in the end and  does not end on some impressive note from the singer as usual but with the last solo we expect, that of the guitarist, because everything is fair in Måneskin! The focus has to leave Damiano, so now it’s the time for the visual effects to finally catch fire, literally,  because nobody is allowed to take their eyes off them! Måneskin use a huge amount of pyro that however feels appropriate for the intense chorus and the ending guitar solo.

Thomas steps up for his solo and I forget we are in 2021. This is the most 70s thing I would ever hope to see.

In a hell of pyro, Thomas looks like he was tranferred right from a 70s rock ‘n roll concert. His outfit would be gladly taken by Keith Richards of the Rolling Stones. The unbuttoned jacket with this boho tie, such a classic 70s fashion touch. His haircut and even his FACE are the epitome of the 70s - what an ending sequence!

But hey we reached the end and this is Eurovision, the song slows down dangerously. Like I said, the Italians forbid us to get distracted. The attention must return to Damiano ASAP. Damiano says one last line and takes the audience with him to the very end with a death drop.

There you have it. Måneskin had me holding my breath for the full three minutes and I did not want to take my eyes off my TV. There are countless shows that are awesome - in this very Eurovision as well - but I was impressed by how they seemed to have found the perfect balance for everything in every single moment. They found the perfect stage concept for the song, they relied on visual effects only when they needed them and they stressed every twist and turn of their sound with a perfectly fitting move or interaction. They also all effortlessly could hold your attention and they made sure that they all would, with members often helping bring out other members. This performance was beautiful and, above all, clever which is why it was undoubtedly the worthiest of the win.  

[lil-sweater-slut]

Harley’s In Hawaii

Doctor Strange x f!Reader

Warnings- 18+ indefinitely,  Unprotected sex, minor Dom!Strange moments with bratty reader, fingering, oral (f receiving) use of pet names i.e ‘Little one’, slight pervy Strange vibes (listening to reader masturbate), drinking, choking, hair pulling.

Word Count: 3.5 k

A/N: reader in this is supposed to be 21+ since it’s mentions drinking, but I know not every country is like that so if your country allows 18+ drinking rock on you’re the better part of the world. This is also one of my first fics where I tried not including Y/N and spent a long ass time on making it detailed as I could. It is also song inspired so if you wanna listen the version that made me think of this here's the link

“I’m not the kind of man that goes out once a week you know.” Stephen exasperates behind you as he adjusts the collar on his dark blue button down. “Especially to some tiny bar that’s never been cleaned, and you can feel the old beer sticking to your shoes”.  You clicked your tongue in response to his poor attitude, “Oh don’t be such a diva Strange.”

 Popping your lips to evenly blend your lip gloss. You took one last glance at yourself in the hallway mirror as your darling friends yelled for you to hurry up downstairs, “by the time we get there, the line is gonna be to the Kamar Taj!” Shang yells up. Turning on your heel, you looked up at Stephen, putting his chin between your index finger and your thumb, “Try to relax and have some fun, won’t ya?” You blew him a kiss with a wink and headed for the stairs, slightly swaying your hips, knowing damn well that his piercing blue eyes were trained on you. It was little behaviors and things like these that got him riled up, his pupils dilating with lust and his blood pressure so high it’s worrisome.

You had hit him like a semitruck during an ice storm. You haven’t left his mind since you became apart of the sanctum. You were inherently talented, graceful-ish, and you were down right the most beautiful creature he has ever seen.

He had tried to keep any impure thoughts he had about you at bay, it wasn’t necessarily the hardest thing for a while considering all you wore around the sanctum were robes but he heard you pleasuring yourself in your room one day by mistake.

He was only walking around the sanctum to clear his head on a problem, coming down your hall he heard the soft moans behind your bedroom door. He tried not to listen; he really did. But then his ears perked when he swore, he heard his name fall from your lips. It must have been a trick of the ear. So, he stayed and listened, no. It was not a trick; you were saying his name like a prayer as you played with yourself.  Your moans got progressively louder as you got closer and closer to your climax, Strange only getting harder by the second. He shook his head, disappointed with himself and left your door to go relieve his own issue.

You moved into a lovely house with lots of trees and plants with Wanda after a few months of gaining your own independence and learning to have more responsibility with your powers. Soon after some discussion with the new Avengers, joined the new group of heroes. The open flirting started shortly after. It was at that playful area where it’s sort of clear you are just friends but standing in a room, the sexual tension bounces off the walls like a tennis match.  You often tease him with shorts, low cut tops/tanks. Things that make him stare at you for a prolonged amount of time that makes you worry sometimes that he could pounce at any moment.

But tonight, you had up the ante when you came out of your new shared bathroom with Wanda, wearing a white halter top and a pair of light high waisted flare jeans that accentuated the curve of your ass so perfectly. On top of whatever you just did grabbing his chin like that…he’s never been the one to be made submissive. An action that won’t be prohibited later…

You had decided to invite the whole team out for a night out, free crappy drinks all night if you pay a small fine at the entrance. The bar you decided to go to was one that led downstairs to a big open dancefloor, lots of flashing lights and a speedy crew of bartenders. As Strange said, yes it wasn’t the cleanest of places in town, however, they played relatively good music that you can dance to, and the bartenders were nicer than at the other places.

Arriving outside the bar the group of you including Wanda, Strange, you, Shang, Sam, and Bucky waited in the line that went halfway across the town square. It was at the beginning of February so you can imagine how badly you cursed yourself for wearing your chosen top, and of course discouraging the idea for a jacket because “the people need to see the fit.” Strange smirked down at you in arrogance as your arms wrapped around yourself in attempt to keep you warm. You scowl up at Strange as he chuckles, “Oh I bet you think this is sooo funny, don’t you?” Nodding in response, Stephen leaned towards your ear, his hot breath fanning over your ear as he whispers, “say the magic word and I can give you my jacket…” shivers traveling down your spin, you chalk it up to just being cold. “I’m not begging for you Strange…” Your jaw twitching in defiance. Strange then places your chin between his index finger and thumb, your eyes never breaking contact with his sharp blues, “We’ll see about that later won’t we little one?”

He released your chin with a satisfied smirk as you gulped and kept your eyes forward. Strange did wrap his jacket around you in a move of chivalry that earned a scoff from you, you stopped immediately when Stephen gave you a look of disapproval for the attitude followed by a slow shake of his head. Waiting in line was agony, almost thirty-minutes of it. The team groaned in annoyance every now and then, you assured them that this place was worth it regardless of the wait time. Here and there some guys would walk through the line between everyone to get to a different bar, some of them touching your waist to get you to move which would earn them a glowering look from Strange. He was insanely protective for someone who hasn’t even had the pleasure of having you underneath him. Your mind started wondering to flashes of what he might look like on top of you…

His dark hair falling in his face...

Muscles contorting with every movement he makes…

How rough or soft he might touch you…

The little whimpers and moans he could make as he slides so nicely into you-

“Helloooooo” Wanda waves her ringed hand Infront of your face, your eyes blinking rapidly out of your daze, “I- “clearing your throat to stop it from wavering, “sorry, what’s up?” Wanda giggles, her bright smile bringing you back to reality, “come on darling we’re being let in now.” She links her arm in with yours, ID’s being checked by security when your welcomed by the bass pulsating in your chest and purple lights setting the vibe for the evening as you walk down the circling staircase. The bar itself was set in the middle of the building with dimmed warm lights, to the back were tables and several love seats for people to sit, and off to the right was the dance floor as a few stragglers started to fill it.

Wanda and you approached the bar, your eyes wandering for the rest of the group. She assured you that everyone has gotten their drinks by now and were probably off to the side avoiding the crowd since they all weren’t the socialist of butterflies. Well except maybe Shang who was already on the dance floor double-fisting two drinks. “Someone’s gonna have to keep an eye on him you know…” You mention to Wanda, her eyes following yours to the dance floor where Shang was, “Neh, I’m sure he’ll be fine but it’s not like he won’t be on the floor alone for much longer.” She encouraged you. You cheer your drinks and sling them back, the alcohol momentarily burning your throat, with that you two started ordering a few more rounds to loosen you up for the dancefloor.

Strange was off to the side with Buck and Sam. The two arguing about best tracks, Stephens eyes rolling in annoyance, he refocuses his attention on trying to find you in a vast sea of people who were all too close to each other. A fire of jealousy sprouted in his chest as his mind wandered to you dancing, a man getting dangerously close to what’s not his, or even just the looks you must be attracting from the way you look, the way you dance,

hips rocking back and forth…

His jaw grinding at the thoughts in his head. A tap on the side of his arm brings him back, “relax man, she’ll kill anyone that gets too close for comfort” Sam smiles trying to comfort him. Strange smiles half-heartedly, “Yeah I know…I’m just- ““protective.” Bucky interjects. Strange nodding slightly as he finishes off the rest of his drink.

The bar was playing music that ranged from the late 90’s to early 2000’s and some songs that were hits from now. Strange kept his eyes trained on the wave of people on the dance floor, hopping to even just catch a glance at you. People started leaving the dancefloor as a remixed version of ‘Harleys and Hawaii’s’ by Katy perry started to play. The beat reverberating from his feet to his chest, eyes following people leaving the dancefloor for more drinks. The lights on the dancefloor faded from rouge pinks violets and Carolina blues.

Another tap to his arm pulled his attention to Sam who nodded his head in the direction of the dancefloor “Don’t look now but there’s your girl” Strange whips his head, peering at the cramped stage with people and flashing purple and blue lights to see you back-to-back with Wanda butt bumping into each other, one arm above your head, your body moving along with the beat and hips swaying back and forth. He just stared at you, time slowing in his head to help capture this moment, your skin gleaming with a sheen of sweat, the biggest grin on your face.

His heart seizing in his chest watching you, butterflies erupting in his stomach, heat rising to his cheeks and moving down his shaft as a mischievous smile spread across his lips. “Gentlemen, if you’ll excuse me…” He smiles to Sam, handing him his drink. He stuffs one of his hands into his gently pressed slacks, as ‘Closer’ by nine-inch nails starts fades in, Strange’s strides landing on beat with the music as you unsuspectedly drop your body low and sway your hips to the song as the alcohol floods your system, making you feel more comfortable with yourself on the dancefloor.

Strange dodges multiple people trying to block from getting to you, waving each young woman from his direction, eyes never leaving your body. You turned your torso, rolling your body when you opened your eyes, stunned to see Strange no more than seven feet from you, standing and leering right into your soul. You continued to sway your hips, Stephen’s eyes roaming from your ass to your eyes, white and green lights flashing behind you. When Strange makes eye contact with you again, he motions with his pointer finger for you to come to him, beckoning you to him.

You immediately felt heat come between your legs at the motion, your mouth agape in awe as you strut your way to him. As you got closer and closer, you couldn’t help but notice how attractive he looks under the colorful lights, his top couple buttons undone peaking some black chest hair underneath. He looked stoic as ever as you approached, completely unreadable and that frightened you. “Yes?” you inquire at him innocently with doe eyes, he clenches his jaw as he narrowed his eyes at you, “What do you think you’re doing little one?” You shrugged, taking a sip from your beverage as you continued to play innocent. “It’s called ‘having fun’ Strange…. you should try it sometime.”

You tried to move away from him when a firm grip on your wrist stopped you, you looked down to see Stephen’s scarred hand wrapped tightly around your lower arm. You glanced back at him through your eyelashes, raising an eyebrow as if questioning if he’s gonna do what he’s always wanted finally. He leaned forward, close to your ear, “If you don’t get your ass to the car immediately…so help me God, I will defile you on this dancefloor right here, right now.” His voice vibrating to your chest as heat floods between your legs once again. You nodded your head as you hurriedly went up the stairs as Strange followed closely behind you, giving your right ass cheek a slight smack, which earned a squeal from you.

Stephen opened the back door for you to settle yourself in as he went along behind you. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders as he asked for the driver to take you two back to his house. The driver nodded in response and Strange put up the privacy screen. You bit the inner part of your cheek knowing what was probably coming next. Stephen moved his hand to your cheek, forcing you to look up at him and into his eyes, his face was inches from yours, you could smell the whiskey on his breath, “Before we do anything both of us may regret…I need to know if this is okay…you’ve been drinking, heavily, for that matter. Is this what you want?”

His eyes wandering yours for any hint of hesitance, as your heart swells at his question. In response you smash your lips to him, a surprise noise escaping Strange’s throat but then giving into the kiss knowing it was okay. His hand traveled into your hair, bringing your face closer to him as his other arm travels down and wrapping around your waist, urging you to straddle his lap. You do so compliantly, tongues meshing together in a battle of dominance.

You settle yourself down on his slacked lap, your clit sliding down against his hardened cock underneath you as a moan came from your lips. “Oh I love that sound…give it to me again…” He whispers, thrusting up against you. Another strangled moan comes from you. He grins and pulls your lips back to him.

Your hands are wandering over each other’s clothed forms when the car stops outside Stephen’s apartment. The agonizing wait up to his room in the elevator was hell in itself, he couldn’t keep his hands off of you as his hands wandered up your stomach, over your breast and finding a comfortable place at your neck as he ravished your neck with bites and replaces them with soft kisses, his goatee tickling you a little. Once getting to his door and getting each other inside, it was fair game now. Stephen pried your top from your body, letting out a breathy “oh…” taking in the fact you weren’t wearing a bra. You looked down at your breasts and back at him as he ogles you. He blinks quickly when he grabs the back of your head, pulling you in for another passionately heated kiss.

Fireworks were shooting off in your stomach, you knew that you must have been so soaked through your panties, you couldn’t wait. Didn’t want to wait. You ripped open Strange’s button down, black buttons flying every which way. You did imagine him in your head correctly, muscular with some chisel around his chest and abs, black chest hair and a happy trail with some silver hairs scattered here and there. He grabs your chin forcing you too look up at him, he kisses your lips one last time before he nods, knowing exactly what you were thinking.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, his wrapping around your waist, you lead each other to the white love seat in his living room, the large open window letting in enough moonlight for you to see each other without the distortion of the dark. You raked your fingers through his dark locks as your other hand fumbles around with his belt, “Stupid…expensive piece of shit.” You mumble in between lip bites and pecks. You finally undo the belt and pull his slacks down along with his black briefs to reveal his illustrious member. The head was an angry red, leaking with precum as it bobbed in your presence. It was large and wider than you would have imagined. You licked your lips as you prepared to take it all in your mouth before Strange grasped your face in between one of his hands, squeezing your cheeks forcefully

“When I cum tonight, it will be deep inside you…. not down your throat…not tonight anyway…” He finishes caressing your hair. You nod in response, “Now…lay down. Don’t move.” You lay down on your back on the loveseat slowly, afraid to break eye contact with Stephen.

When you get yourself comfortable, Strange prowls over your body, he kisses your lips, moving down your neck to your breasts, giving each one a great amount of attention between his teeth and tongue. He moves lower down your body, leaving bites in his wake when he is staring right at your pretty pussy in front of him. He looks up with his lust blown blue orbs for permission, nodding hurriedly at him as you brush back some hairs back that escaped from their gel holds. He starts slowly, giving soft kitten licks to your clit, circling it with his tongue, seeing what gives you more of a reaction. You moans grow louder and louder with each different movement, closing your eyes in ecstasy.

Strange slowly moves his hands, one wrapped underneath your thigh while the other moves up to your core. He tests your reaction when placing on finger into you, loving the way you arch your back at the new penetration. He smirks into you as he adds his ring finger into you, fucking you with his fingers that he so desperately hated in the past, now loving the way they pull moans and pleads from your lips. He moves them in a “come here” motion just gingerly touching that soft spot inside, his tongue still expertly circling around your bundle of nerves. You arched your back, bucking your hips, grabbing anything you could in this moment. “Oh Fuck yeah Stephen just like that…yes…”

You moved your hand back down to Stranges hair, pushing it back as you grinded you hips into his face. You heard the lewd noises that came from you, the squelching that came from below you as Stephen fucks you into oblivion with his fingers, cleaning up his mess with his tongue. Surely the man was going to drown with how wet you are. You panted trying to get his attention, you tried pulling his face up only for him to smack your hand away, stopping to look at you menacingly, “Don’t.” Your eyes widened, hands up in defense. He wrapped one of his muscular arms underneath you, rolling you on top of him, straddling his hips once again. Your slick dripping down on his hardening cock. He leaves his arm around you, his hand tangling in your hair once again, “You’re going to cum on me while I fuck into you…You will not try to run…you will not tell me to stop or to slow down. Do you understand little one?”

You agree with a small nod, your eyes hazy and lust blown. Strange tugs on your hair slightly, “Words Darling. Use your words.” He tugs back again, his head now teasing at your entrance, “Yes sir…” You whisper. Stephen lets out a deep breath as he thrusts up into you hard and fast, the impact making you scream out in a mixture of pain and pleasure, your head falling back as Stephen lets out a strangled moan. Slowly he starts picking up the pace once he thinks you’re ready, using the strength of his thighs to thrust into you, his cock bottoming out into you.

His cock was dragging along your walls, perfectly hitting that spongy part on your walls. You could feel it, that coil was ready to snap at any minute as he continued to fuck up into you, your moans were garbled between praises, begs and Strange’s name…

“Yes, just like that...it feels so fucking good”

“Oh don’t you dare stop…”

“Stephen…Stephen…”

He could feel it, you’re clamping down on him so fucking hard, his mind flashes back to you in your room with your toy, “I know for a fact that you can be a hell of a lot louder than that.” He snaps up into you, moving his hands to wrap around your throat. You instinctively wrapped your hand around his wrist, getting closer and closer to your release. With another hard thrust hitting your cervix and brushing against your g-spot, you arched back, as white flashes behind your eyes and the coil finally snaps. A guttural moan ripping through your lungs.

Strange sat in awe of your current state, a few more thrusts and he followed closely behind you, as his cum fills you to the brim, eyes never once leaving your shambled form. You fall forward onto his hot, sweat slicked chest as it rises and falls, Strange burying his face in the crook of your neck, placing soft kisses along you jaw and cheek in praise as you attempt to catch your breath yourself.

“Good Girl…You did so well for me...” He whispers.

You move back far enough to give him a quick peck on the lips, “Don’t expect that every time Strange…”

[elrielsdaughter]

Waltz of War (pt.1)

pairing: elain x azriel (elriel)

summary: the war is here, azriel and elain are highschool sweethearts, azriel needs to go to war, elain will wait for him.

word count: 1k

song: we'll meet again - vera lynn

a/n: this was supposed to be released on elriel month but shit happens, anyways, i hope you enjoy reading as much as i love writing it, please be kind and any kind of feedback is appreciated. <3

Azriel had always had clear since he was just a child that if there was a war he would be the first to step forward as his father had done, his grandfather before him, accept his position in a battalion to go to enemy flanks. He would be fine and would fill his house with pride, just dying for his country was something that, despite sounding fateful, had always been an ideal, an ideal death for a soldier who risked his life for their country.

The life of a soldier was his ideal since he could remember, he used to play as a soldier going to war with his father, he threw the rocks in his back garden as if they were bombs imagining that he was on the battlefield and they exploded perfectly, his helmet was a bowl his mother used to use for pasta and his weapon a perfectly sized cushion from the small living room. He would drop to the ground, roll and hide behind a tree before killing as many enemies as he had in front of him by swinging his small arms forcefully as he shot towards them.

He remembered the faces of his mother and father watching him with tenderness and the pride behind them before his mother scolded him for dirtying his clean clothes, telling him that Rhysand was never dirty and he also played on the floor, shaking him for a while to get the dirt off of him while his father laughed. So it was okay to go to his death like that, while he made the pride of his family and his country shine after his death. If that was the price for peace of course he would do it, at least he thought so. He had thought about all that before entering high school, it was all a sad dream but his dream after all, at that time there was not much for him in his home to lose, nothing that would make him really stay.

Azriel looked at the bus in front of him with some resentment, the paint somewhat worn from the many trips it had made around the country, thinking and doing were two completely different things, he had realized that and only seeing the bus being boarded by so many young men produced a fear in his womb that he couldn’t explain, but he was already there, and he wouldn’t run home only to be despised by his parents and thrown out on the street. He still wanted to defend the country, but he wondered if there was another way to do things, to talk and not kill each other like everyone said they should to maintain peace. The enemies he would face were young people like him who would also want to get home, would want to hug their parents one last time, would want to do so many things before they die, they could all have an Elain waiting for them.

He turned his body and turned his back on the transport that would soon take him to the military base, his eyes quickly averted at the look of tears and fear in front of him, the brown eyes full of pain as the delicate hands of his girlfriend tried their best to wipe the tears from her cheeks, to no avail. He let out a low chuckle.

His hands went to her soft, wet skin, brushing away the non-stopping tears with the pad of his thumb.

“You said you wouldn't cry, my love” he spoke over the lump in his throat that had been tightening all day.

His thumb pausing to caress her cheek soothingly, Elain did nothing more than rub her cheek against his hand, her anguished eyes squeezed shut as if she didn’t want to let go of him. The pink dress she was wearing was Azriel’s favorite of course, she had put it on that morning to say goodbye to him, when he had seen her arrive that morning he almost burst into tears, because she looks beautiful and he would miss the sigh of her.

“How can I not cry? The war takes you from my side, and you leave me here. How am I going to survive without you?" Elain’s voice was breathy, she seemed to choke on her sobs, her chest rising and falling irregularly.

"I’ll be back when you least expect it." At least that’s what he hoped, there were many situations that could separate them forever, but he wasn’t going to allow himself to think about that "I’ll show up in front of your house with the roses you like so much and I’ll ask your father your hand in marriage."

That only made her cry harder, her nose already red from crying, the tears bathing her cheeks was a sight that Azriel could not bear to see under any circumstances, Elain’s pain was something that pierced his bones, as if the simple fact that she cried was a sin, it was a sin that someone like her cried out her pain, she should never feel bad or sad, he moved his hand away from her cheek and cupped her face with both hands showing her a small but bright smile. She looked at him, the pout on her lips something tender and painful to see, he would miss everything about her.

From her pouts to her brown eyes, her wavy, soft hair, her hugs and the warmth of her arms, her scent and what it meant, her endless talks about ballet and flowers, watching her dance with such passion that it gave him goosebumps, her tender gestures when something bothered her, the loving kisses that used to lift his spirit on the worst of days, the late talks they had before leaving her at her house, the millions of dates she planned for him.

He had to stop, the tears were already threatening to be seen, everything was too much, if he cried Elain would not be able to compose herself in any way. So he sucked in a breath until he felt his lungs burst to have the strength to speak.

“My love, you know that no matter what happens…” he approached her face, planting a kiss on each of her cheeks “I will always come back to you Elain, my Elain, you are the pride of my heart my kind and sweet girl."

Elain nodded, taking a deep breath herself, wiping away her tears with the back of her hand, and launched herself at him with open arms, pressing Azriel’s body against hers as if releasing him from her meant losing him forever. Azriel buried his face in the crook of her neck and shoulder, breathing in her scent, his arms like iron bands encircling her delicate body, lifting her off the floor for a few seconds. Allowing himself a second of pain before he put her down, his heart buckling in pain.

Without letting go, they looked into each other’s eyes and spoke heart to heart, their feelings palpable and known to each other, firm as the ground they were standing on.

“Come back to me, Azriel, just… come back.” She barely finished the sentence when her soft lips met his.

The last kiss, bitter and sad and full of helplessness, the memory that Azriel would treasure with every part of his soul before walking away from her completely, a part of his heart staying with her. He took Elain’s hand, looking at the silver band with the cobalt gemstone shining proudly on her finger, a promise. Like the one they just made.

"I will write to you every day, no matter if my letters take time to arrive." With his finger he removed a strand of hair that fell over her eyes and put it behind her ear "I’m always thinking of you, my petal."

“As I always think of you, take good care of yourself Az,” her words so weak that Azriel had to make sure he heard well, but he nodded.

He looked behind her at Rhysand, Feyre, Nesta, and Cassian who were letting go of eachother just as painfully as they were.

Rhysand held Nyx in his arms, he spoke to him but Azriel couldn’t hear what he was saying, Feyre cried on his shoulder hugging him tightly while her husband cried with her, and a little away from them Cassian hugged Nesta, whispering words of eternal love while she trembled against his body, her tears visible and nodding as she responded kissing his cheeks desperately.

He would miss his home, his parents, Elain’s sisters who had become his, all the memories that were there, every step he had to take to get to the Archeron house, and above all he would miss Elain. Mor and Amren, who had said their goodbyes in the evening, unable to go in that moment because of their sadness.

He told his goodbyes with one last kiss to Elain and a big hug for Feyre, Nesta and a small kiss on the forehead for Nyx, he carried his bag full of his most valuable and necessary items to the bus and got on it followed by Rhysand and Cassian who were trying to cheer up eachother, even though they knew they had a long, bitter ride ahead of them before they reached the base, but Azriel stared out the window. Looking and looking at Elain as she shook her hand in goodbye while linking her arm tightly on Nesta’s arm, a smile brighter than the sun waved him off. The three men raised their hands to say goodbye and the bus moved on taking them to their destination.

He wasn't a devotee, or a believer of any God, but he prayed during that ride.

Please, please, take care of her while I'm gone.

[the-witches-you-couldnt-burn]

Like I did with you

So I’ve been procrastinating hard during my study break for my exams, but here have a song fic!

Ghost of you by 5SOS

Genius comments: The song tells the tale of a heartbroken lover who has lost his significant other – due to a breakup or even suicide/death – and is refusing to accept the fact that she is never coming back.

I didn’t feel like writing angst and whenever I hear this song I feel like ballroom dancing (and I have).

Also thank you to the lovely people on the Maribat discord server!

Ao3

The sequel ‘It started with a whisper’ is up!

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Gotham Academy implemented a new ‘Study Abroad’ program due to recent funding from a local humanitarian. This program gave the students of Gotham Academy a chance to study abroad in Europe and vice versa. Countries like Sweden, Greece, Germany, Ireland and more participated in the program; offering a multitude of high schools with many different courses.

And because of that very wealthy benefactor, his son got first pick on where he would like to study. This was 100% not a forced decision at all to subtly keep track of the happenings of Paris. With that the Ice Prince of Gotham took the City of Love by storm.

He had been at Collège Françoise Dupont for the past few months, and it’s been hell. The class he had been placed into was ripping apart at the seams. There were two students that the class gravitated towards; he observed some of the others meeting in secret, without the knowledge of their respective ‘leaders’.

The first student that held the majority of the class’ focus was Lila Rossi. She was a black hole with beady green eyes, who dragged who ever was in her reach to an agonising fate. Damian saw through her deceptions and rejected her flirtations. The students that followed her, ate up whatever lie she spat out. Rossi soon learned that lies about the Wayne family and Gotham wouldn’t fly with him.

“Really? You worked with Monsieur Wayne?” The pink clad girl, Rose, squeaked.

Damian had just walked into class on his second day at the hell hole and already regretted it. He shot a glare towards the large group, “Who ever told you that is severely misinformed. My father has never worked with a minor from Europe, due to potential rumours and allegations it could cause. It is not a threat but a promise if a lie of similar caliber is spread there will be a lawsuit.” And with that he walked towards his seat in the back, the Ice Prince had cast his decree, the class’ atmosphere had frozen over.

The second student was Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Those that surrounded her were Alix Kubdel, Chloé Bourgeois, Max Kanté, Lê Chiến Kim and the occasional secret appearance from Juleka Couffaine. They didn’t view Dupain-Cheng through rose coloured lenses, they were always grounded and opinions were respected. Damian, who was a loner without Jon at his side, was satisfied by himself; Marinette respected that and didn’t force him to socialise like Lila tried to.

So that leads us to this. He stood against a sidewall of the giant banquet hall, staring out at the crowd before him. Jon was walking to wards him with a can of sprite in hand. Jon had moved to Paris with him but had been placed into a different class. The boy who was the epitome of sunshine stuck around the Ice Prince, their friendship is an enigma to the Françoise Dupont students.

Jon’s face was flushed. He had just gotten a drink after dancing for the past hour. Tonight was the night of the Collège’s formal dance for their graduating class. Skirts of all colours and fabrics swirled, as their partners (majority of whom had matching suits) twirled them to the music.

Jon, gesturing to the crowd, asked him whether he was going to stand there all night or dance. Taking a sip of his drink a smirk appears on his face, “unless the great Damian Wayne is to much of a coward to dance.”

Here I am waking up

Still can't sleep on your side

Damian’s head snapped towards the taller boy, “Are you seriously using my ego to get me to dance?”

Jon raising an eyebrow, “Well?”

If I can dream long enough

The temperamental teen stormed off, grumbling about “Jon being as bad as Todd”. Scanning the room he search for a suitable partner, there was no way he would embarrass himself by dancing alone.

You'd tell me I'd be just fine

I'll be just fine

He spotted Dupain-Cheng stood off to the side, alone. She was draped in a layered white dress with black hemming. As he neared, he realised that the asymmetrical skirt was actually a light blush with her signature apple blossom flowers embroidered. She looked up at him and he straightened his stance, slowing his pace. Her sapphire eyes locked on to his, her bangs curled off to the side along with the rest of her hair in beach waves.

So I drown it out like I always do

She gifted him a small smile, a usual occurrence within her interactions with him. He offered his left hand, bowing his head slightly. “Dupain-Che—“ he cleared his throat, “Marinette. Would you do me the honour of joining me in this dance?”

Dancing through our house

With the ghost of you

Her eyes widened, not expecting the Arabian God of a teen before her to ask her such a question. She saw his temper during class during his spats with Lila and how he kept to himself without the presence of Jon. But here he was in a fitted Armani suit that made his green eyes glow, and hair messily slicked to the side. Marinette looked at his hand, glad that her makeup mostly hid her blush.

And I chase it down

“I am...” She paused to find the right word, “I am a bad dancer. It is better for everyone that I don’t participate.”

“I can think of nothing less appealing than an evening of watching other people dance.” A small gasp escaped from her mouth before she could stop it. She watched as his mouth twitch’s downwards before his facade returned with full strength. “If you do not wish, to I won’t force you. But if you’ll allow me I’ll guide you through the dance to make sure it isn’t an utter disaster.”

With a shot of truth

Marinette’s lips quirked, giggling as she took his hand, “Your funeral Damian.”

What had he gotten himself into?

The two entered the dance floor, taking up the dance support hold. Their dance had the basic steps of the waltz, with a promenade and many spins; some as a couple and some were just Mari. Damian soon found he enjoy watching the sparkles in her dress light up as she spun. It became even more enjoyable when he discovered that the dress was her own creation.

Dancing through our house

The two made quiet conversations during their dance. Damian pulled her closer by the waist as they repeated the basic steps, their bodies perfectly in tune with each other. “You are a fine dancer despite your protests”

With the ghost of you

Marinette tilted her head up at him, blinding him with a dazzling smile. Damian’s heart fluttered, the two always had a mutual respect but it seems to have grown into a fond appreciation.

From the tables scattered around the dance floor there was a blond, with his fist clenched. Lila had dragged him off of the floor as soon as Damian and Marinette made their debuts; together. The brunette was now off angrily gossiping to Alya and any other who’d listen. It was a hot topic between Lila and Alya that Marinette loved him, although now, as he watched her dance with Damian, he was unsure as to whether that was ever true. He sat there, glued to his seat, watching the spectacle before him.

Cleaning up today

Found that old Zepplin shirt

The two dancers didn’t notice that everyone had cleared off the floor to watch them. They danced in sync, no movement was made without the other following it. Adrien had realised awhile ago that even though he didn’t have romantic feelings for Marinette, he cherished her friendship. That relationship was now tarnished due to the path he took when he first revealed his knowledge of the deceptions. His father had forced him to keep Lila happy, even if it made him miserable.

You wore when you ran away

And no one could feel your hurt

He had lost her, and he was unsure as to whether he could gain any semblance of their relationship back.

We're too young, too dumb

To know things like love

Damian lifted his partner’s right hand and twirled her three times, they both were content within their own world. The two swayed before turning together and walking around the now open space.

But I know better now (Better now)

Marinette flushed as she realised what was happening around her, leaning towards her partner she whispered, “I think we’ve become an impromptu entertainment.”

Too young, too dumb

To know things like love

Too young, too dumb

Damian subtly gazed behind her seeing their peers in a circle surrounding them. He was on the inside looking out, and he wouldn’t trade it for the world. He whispered reassurances in her ear, he wished to finish the song before he released her from his embrace. The two drowned out their audience, focusing on each other and the beat of the song.

So I drown it out like I always do

Dancing through our house

With the ghost of you

And I chase it down

With a shot of truth

That my feet don't dance

Like they did with you

The melody slowly faded off as the last lines were sung. The two finished on a basic waltz step before swaying in each other’s arms. The music ends and there is silence, blood rushed to their ears and their breaths mingled.

The two stayed in the other’s embrace, face-to-face, staring. They broke out of their trance by clapping. Looking around Marinette saw many of her peers and most of the supervising teachers applauding their performance.

Their friends broke through the crowd, Jon patted Damian’s shoulder (retracting before he got bit) while Chloe and Alix pulled Marinette back to their table to discuss what Disney magic had befallen the couple. The bluenette glanced back at her partner, mouthing a silent goodbye.

The crowd dispersed but were still buzzing from their display. Marinette was bombarded with questions, not only from her friends, but from other students about her dancing with the demon. Her stuttered replies did little to quench the crowd’s thirst. Her face must be comparable to that of a tomato.

Damian, having noticed the building crowd and Marinette’s uncomfortable stance, broke away from Jon. The crowd parted like the red sea, unwilling to be the one to anger the Ice Prince.

He offered her his arm (to which she took) and escorted her out to the patio outside. She stayed entwined with him, as she looked out at the stray Parisian night; leaning her head onto his should. Here the two could breathe. Here the two of them could be their present selves, no ghostly facades needed. It seems they could drown out anything in the presence of each other.

Unbeknownst to them, Jon had recorded their dance, along with their previous and present interactions of that night. He thought for a second to use it as blackmail material but decided to just send it off anyways. Oh the chaos it caused.